The world's grown naught, such judgement then is base,
For Hares and Asses weare the lion's case.[184]
_Mon_. 'Tis very costly and exceeding rich.
_Val_. Ritches to me are like trash to the poore,
I have them in abundance; gold's my slave,
I keep him prisoner in a three-fold chest
And yet his kindred daily visit me.
_Mon_. Lord, how diligent
Is this rich clothed fellow.
_Val_. Were he proud
And should but dare to stand still when I call,
I'de run him th[o]rough with a killing frowne.
_Mon_. Why then belike his service is for love.
_Val_. Why so are all the servants that attend mee.
They keepe themselves in satin, velvets, gold,
At their owne charges, and are diligent
Daies, moneths, and yeeres, to gaine an amorous smile.
Looke on my face with an indifferent eye,
And thou shalt finde more musicke in my lookes
Then in _Amphions_ Lute or _Orpheus_ Harpe;
Mine eye consists of numbers like the soule,
And if there be a soule tis in mine ey;
For, of the harmony these bright starres make,
I comprehend the formes of all the world;
The story of the Syrens in my voyce
I onely verified, for Millions stand
Inchanted when I speake, and catch my words
As they were orient pearle to adorn their eares;
_Circe_ is but a fable, I transforme
The vertuous, valiant, and the most precise,
Into what forme of minde my fancie please.
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