And. Sir, virtue's perfection
Is at the height in him. Whatever after
Ages bear, or give the name of worth to,
Must, if compar'd to him, be but as foils
To set his glory off the brighter.
Nor are the men only thus taken with him;
There's not a lady in the land but sighs
With passion for him, and dreams on him a-nights.
Husbands grow jealous of him, yet with joy
That they are Plangus' rivals.
Eph. All this is nothing.
Men talk'd as loud of me when I was young.
And. Yea, but they say, sir, you were
Not half so mincing in your carriage, nor so majestic.
Besides——
Eph. I hope they do not make comparisons.
[Starts.
And. Sir, I thought we could not have discours'd on a
More welcome theme than what is full of Plangus.
Eph. No more you cannot. Let him as a less star
Enjoy his splendour, but it must not be so great
To darken me; but, prythee, do they compare us then?
And. You're discompos'd, sir!—I have done.
Eph.Nay, nothing
But the remembrance of a foolish dream—what say they?
And. Why, sir, some went so far to say, they wonder'd
A lady of my years could marry the father,
Though a king, when I might have had Plangus himself.