Mech. Faith, reasonable learning; a smattering in the Latin tongue.
A little rhetoric, with wrangling sophistry,
Were his preparatives unto his art.
Vel. After these preparatives (if you call them so)
The physic wrought well; for a few years' practice
Brought him in wondrous credit, and preferments
Came tumbling in: O, such a sudden rise
Hath Fortune for her minions! blame him not then,
Though he look high on't.
Mech. Nay, for his pride, of weaker souls term'd state,
It hurts none but himself.
Drap. Yet to my seeming it is very strange,
That from so base beginning men can breathe
Such soaring fames.
Mech. Strange! it's not strange a whit,
Dunghills and marish bogs dart store of vapours
And viscous exhalations against heaven,
Which borrowing lustre there (though basely bred)
Seem yet like glorious planets, fairest stars,
To the weak eyes of wond'ring ignorance,
When wise men know they are but meteors.
But here comes the orator.
Enter Prate.
Prate. What, Precedent, I say!
Come and attend me to the senate-house.
Pre. I am ready, sir; if you have copia verborum,
I have copia rerum, in a buckram bag here.
Prate. Your lordship's pleasure!
Mech. Master orator, 'tis not unknown—my suit—