A Conference of the Hunter with a Tutor, whilom the Angler his eyes be closed in sleep. The Angler awaking relateth his Vision. The Hunter chaunteth 'A Bachanalian Ode.'
PISCATOR, VENATOR, TUTOR.
Venator. He hath left us, but methinks we are not to lack company, for look you, another is even now at hand, gravely apparelled, and bearing upon his head Hoffmann's Lexicon in four volumes folio.
Piscator. Trust me, this doth symbolise his craft. Good morrow. Sir. If I rightly interpret these that you bear with you, you are a teacher in this learned place?
Tutor. I am, Sir, a Tutor, and profess the teaching of divers unknown tongues.