HEAR. A grove of pikes are rushes to him: hail More frights you than a shower of bullets him--
SLICER. The Dutch come up like broken beer;[132] the Irish Savour of usquebaugh; the Spanish they Smell like unto perfume at first, but then After a while end in a fatal steam--
HEAR. One drum's his table, the other is his music: His sword's his knife; his colours are his napkins; Carves nourishing horse, as he is us'd to do The hostile paynim,[133] or we venison; eats Gunpowder with his meat instead of pepper, Then drinks o'er all his bandoleers, and fights--
SLICER. Secrets are rank'd and order'd in his belly, Just like tobacco-leaves laid in a sweat. Here lies a row of Indian secrets, then Something of's own on them; on that, another Of China counsels, cover'd with a lid Of Newfoundland discoveries: next, a bed Of Russia policies; on them, a lay Of Prester-Johnian whispers--
HEAR. Slights a tempest; Counts lightning but a giving fire, and thunder The loud report when heaven hath discharg'd. H' hath with his breath[134] suppli'd a breach: When he's once fix'd, no engine can remove him.
SLICER. 'Twould be a policy worth hatching to Have him dissected, if 'twere not too cruel. All states would lie as open as his bowels: Turkey in's bloody liver; Italy Be found in's reins; Spain busy in his stomach; Venice would float in's bladder; Holland sail Up and down all his veins; Bavaria lie Close in some little gut, and _ragioni_ _Di Stato_[135] generally reek in all.
CRE. I see my son's too happy: he is born To be some man of action; some engine For th' overthrow of kingdoms.
HEAR. Troth, he may Divert the torrent of the Turkish rule Into some other track: dam up the stream Of that vast headlong monarchy, if that He want not means to compass his intents.
CRE. The Turkish monarchy's a thing too big For him to manage: he may make perhaps The governor of some new little island, And there plant faith and zeal; but for the present, M' ambition's only to contrive a match Between Sir Thomas Bitefig's only daughter And (if I may so call him now) my son: 'Twill raise his fortunes somewhat.
SLICER. We have got One that will do more good with's tongue that way Than that uxorious show'r that came from heaven: But you must oil it first.