If it be foe, fondling, how dar’st thou trust it?
2
EMBLEMA.
Friend faber, cast me a round hollow ball,
Blown full of wind, for emblem of this All;
Adorn it fair, and flourish every part
With flowers and fruits, with brooks, beasts, fish, and fowl,
With rarest cunning of thy curious art: 5
And grave in gold, about my silver bowl,
Thus rolls the world, the idol of mankind,