Au. Say you so, that is serving yourself and not me; keep it for yourself.  I am not so bashful as to want any Body to help me.

Ch. You do very well.

Au. Do you carve for a Wolf?  Have you invited a Vulture?

Ch. You fast.  You don’t eat.

Au. I eat more than any Body.

Ch. Nay, rather, you lye more than any Body.  Pray be as free as if you were at your own House.

Au. I take myself to be there.  I do so.  I am resolv’d so to do.  I design to do so.

Ch. How does this Wine please you?  Does this Wine please your Palate?

Au. Indeed it pleases me very well.  Indeed it pleases mightily.  It pleases me well enough.  It pleases me very well.

Ch. Which had you rather have, Red or White?

It is no Matter what Colour it is.

Au. Indeed I like both alike.  It is no Matter what Colour ’tis, so the Taste be pleasing.  I don’t much mind how the Wine pleases the Eye, so it do but please the Palate.  I an’t much mov’d at the Sight of it, if the Taste be but grateful.  It is no great Matter what Colour it is of, or what Colour it has, if it does but taste well.  I don’t desire to please my Eyes if I can but please my Taste.  If it do but please the Palate, I don’t regard the Colour, if it be well relish’d.

Ch. I believe so:  But there are some Persons that are mighty deeply read in Table Philosophy, who deny that the Wine can be good, unless it pleases four Senses:  The Eye, with its Colour; the Nose, with its Smell; the Palate, with its Taste; the Ears, by its Fame and Name.

Au. O ridiculous!  What signifies Fame to Drink?

Ch. As much as many that have a good Palate mightily approve of Lovain Wine, when they believe it to be Bern Wine.

Au. It may be, they had spoiled their Palate by much Drinking.

Ch. No, before they had drank one Drop.  But I have a Mind to hear your Opinion, who are a Man of great Skill in these Matters.

Au. Our Countrymen prefer White before Red, because the Red is a little more upon the Acid, and the White a smaller Wine; but that is the milder, and in my Opinion the more wholsome.

Ch. We have a pale red Wine, and a yellow Wine, and a purple Colour Wine.  This is new Wine, this Year’s Wine.  This is two Years old, if any Body is for an old Wine.  We have some four Years old, but it is grown flat and dead with Age.  The Strength is gone with Age.

Au. Why, you’re as rich as Lucullus.

Ch. Soho, Boy, where are you a loitering?  You give us no Attendance; don’t you see we have no Wine here?  What if a Fire should happen now?  How should we put it out?  Give every one a full Glass. Austin, What’s the matter that you are not merry?  What makes you sit so Melancholy?  What’s the Matter with you, that you an’t chearful?  You are either troubled at something, or you’re making Verses.  You play the Crysippus now, you want a Melissa to feed you.