Manes. I serve in stead of a master a mouse,[787] whose house is a tub, whose dinner is a crust, and whose bed is a boord.
Psyllus. Then art thou in a state of life which philosophers commend: a crum for thy supper, an hand for thy cup, and thy clothes for thy sheets; for Natura paucis contenta. 5
Gran. Manes, it is pitie so proper a man should be cast away upon a philosopher; but that Diogenes, that dogge,[788] should have Manes, that dog-bolt,[789] it grieveth nature and spiteth art: the one having found thee so dissolute—absolute[790] I would say—in bodie, the other so single—singular—in minde. 10
Manes. Are you merry? It is a signe by the trip of your tongue and the toyes[791] of your head that you have done that to day which I have not done these three dayes.
Psyllus. Whats that?
Manes. Dined. 15
Gran. I thinke Diogenes keepes but cold cheare.
Manes. I would it were so; but hee keepeth neither hot nor cold.
Gran. What then, luke warme? That made Manes runne from his master the last day.[792] 20
Psyllus. Manes had reason, for his name foretold as much.