Mon. I had thought he had bin a gentleman at least.
Val. Because of his attire?
Mon. True.
Val. O the attire
In these corrupted daies is no true signe
To shew the gentleman; peasants now weare robes,
In the habilments of noblemen.
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.
Thou might'st bee proud, great Lord, of my abundance,
For in this beautie I shall more renowne
Our noble progenie then all the pennes
Of the best Poets that ere writ of men.
Unto your health a health! let Musique sound, [Musick.
That what I taste in Musique may be drown'd.
So fill more wine, we use to drinke up all;
Wine makes good blood and cheeres the heart withal.