Stranger:
For twenty silver pieces he is yours.
Captain:
That's cheap, if he has skill. Yes, there might be
Profit in him at that. Has he a trade?
Stranger:
He is a carpenter.
Captain:
A carpenter!
Why, for a good one I'ld give all my purse.
Stranger:
No, twenty silver pieces is the price;
Though 'tis a slave a king might joy to own.
I've taught him to imagine palaces
So high, and tower'd so nobly, they might seem
The marvelling of a God-delighted heart
Escaping into ecstasy; he knows,
Moreover, of a stuff so rare it makes
Smaragdus and the dragon-stone despised;
And yet the quarries whereof he is wise
Would yield enough to house the tribes of the world
In palaces of beautiful shining work.