"A word to th' wise," and show thyself my scholar!
There thou may'st filch and revel; all may yield
Some secret profit to thy sharking hand.
'Tis an old miser gives a sordid dinner,
And weeps o'er every sparing dish at table;
Then if I do not find thou dost devour
All thou canst touch, e'en to the very coals,
I will disown thee! Lo! old Skin-flint comes;
In his dry eyes what parsimony stares!—D'Israeli.
Sosipater. (Book ix. § 22, p. 595.)
A. If you consider well, my Demylus,
Our art is neither low nor despicable;
But since each rude and untaught blockhead dares
Present himself as cook profess'd, the art
Has sunk in estimation, nor is held
In that respect and honour as of old.—
Imagine to yourself a cook indeed,
Versed from his infancy in all the arts
And mysteries of his trade; a person, too,
Of shining talents, well instructed in
The theory and practice of his art;
From such a one you will be taught to prize
And value as you ought, this first of arts.
There are but three of any character
Now living: Boidion is one, and then
Chariades, and, to crown all, myself;
The rest, depend upon it, are beneath
Your notice.
B. How is that?
A. Believe me, truth;
We three are the supporters of the school
Of Sicyon; he, indeed, was prince of cooks,
And as a skill'd professor, taught us first
The motion of the stars, and the whole scheme
And science of astrology; he then
Inform'd us of the rules of architecture,
And next instructed us in physics, and
The laws of motion, and th' inventions rare
