University of Virginia Library

ARISTIPPUS

Enter two Schollars.
Slaves are they that heape up mountaines,
Still desiring more and more,
Still let's carouse in Bacchus fountaines,
Never dreaming to be poore.
Give us then a cup of liquor,
Fill it up unto the brim,
For then me thinks my wits grow quicker,
When my braines in liquor swimme.
1. Schol.
What ayles thou, thou musing man?
Diddle diddle dooe.

2. Schol.
Quench thy sorrowes in a Canne,
Diddle diddle dooe.

Aristippus:
But come you Lads that love Canary,
Let us have a mad segarie:
Hether, hether, hether, hether,
All good fellowes flocke together.

Arist.
I wish you all carefully,
Drinke Sacke but sparingly,
Spend your coyne thriftily,
Keepe your health warily,
Take heed of ebriety,
Wine is an enemy,
Good is sobriety,
Fly baths and venery.

1 Schol.
There is a drinke made of the Stygian Lake,
Or else of the waters the Furies doe make,
No name there is bad enough by which it to call,
But yet as I wist, it is ycleped Ale;
Men drinks it thick, and pisse it out thin,
Mickle filth by Saint Loy that it leaves within,
But I of complexion am wondrous sanguine,
And will love by th' Marrow a cup of Wine,
To live in delight was ever my wonne,
For I was Epicurus his own sonne,
That held opinion, that plainly delight
Was very felicity perfite:
A Bowle of Wine is wondrous {boone} cheere
To make one blythe, buxome, and deboneere,
'Twill give me such valour, and so much courage,
As cannot be found 'twixt Hull and Carthage.

2 Schol.
Fill me a Bowle of Sack with Roses crown'd.
Fil't to the brim, I'l have my temples bound
With flowry Chaplets, and this day permit
My Genius to be free, and frolike it;
Let me drinke deep, then fully warm'd with Wine
I'l chaunt Æneas praise, that every line
Shall prove immortall, till my moistned Quill
Melt into Verses, and Nectar like distill;
I'm sad, or dull, till Bowles brim-fil'd infuse
New life in me, new spirit in my Muse:
But once reviv'd with Sack, pleasing desires
In my child hood kindle such active fires,
That my gray haires seeme fled, my wrinkl'd face
Growne smooth as Hebes, youth, and beæuties grace,
To my shrunke veines, fresh blood and spirits bring,
Warme as the Summer, sprightfull as the Spring;
Then all the world is mine: Crœsus is poore,
Compar'd with me, he is rich that askes no more:
And I in Sack have all, which is to me
My home, my life, health, wealth, and liberty,
Then have I conquer'd all, I boldly dare
My Trophies with the Pelean youth compare,
Him I will equall, as his sword, my Pen
My conquer'd world of cares, his world of men,
Doe not Atrides, Nestors ten desire,
But ten such drinkers as that aged sire,
His streame of honied words flowed from the Wine,
And Sack his Counsell was, as he was thine.
Who euer purchast a rich Indian mine,
But Bacchus first, and next the Spanish Wine?
Then fill my bowle, that if I dye to morrow.
Killing cares to day, I have out-liv'd my sorrow.

Sim.
Aristippus is better in every letter,
Than Faber the Parisiensis.
Then Scotus, Sencinas, and Thomas Aquinas,
Or Gregory Gandavensis:
Than Cardan and Ramus, than old Paludanus,
Albertus and Gabriella,
Than Pico Mercatus, or Scaliger Natus,
Than Niphus or Zabarella,
Hortado, Trombetus, were fooles with Toletus,
Zanardus, and Will de Hales.
With Occham, Iavellus, and mad Algazellus,
Phyloponus, and Natalis;
The Conciliatur was but a meere prater,
And so was Apolinaris:
Iandunus, Plotinus, the Dunce Eugubinus:
With Mæsius, Savil, and Swarez,
Fonseca, Durandus, Becanus, Holandus,
Pererius, Avienture;
Old Trisme gift us, whose Volumes have mist us.
Ammonius, Bonaventure
Mirandula, Comes, with Proclus and Somes,
And Guido, the Carmelita:
The nominall Schooles, and the Colledge of fooles,
No longer is my delight a:
Hang {Beirewood} and Carter, in Crakenthorps Garter,
Let Keckerman too bemoane us,
Ile be no more beaten, for greasie Iacke Seaten,
Or conning of Sandersonus.
The censure of Cato's, shall never amate us,
Their frosty beards cannot nip us:
Your Ale is too muddy, good Sack is our study,
Our Tutor is Aristippus.

Aristip.
We care not for money, riches, or wealth,
Old Sack is our mony, old Sack is our health,
Then let's flocke hither
Like birds of a feather,
To drinke, to fling,
To laugh and sing,
Conferring our notes together,
Conferring our notes together.
Come let us laugh, let us drinke, let us sing,
The Winter with us is as good as the Spring,
We care not a feather
For wind, or for weather,
But night and day
We sport and play,
Conferring our notes together
Conferring our notes together.