When some one peculiar quality
Doth so possess a man, that it doth draw
All his affects, his spirits and his powers,
In their confluctions, all to run one way,
This may be truly said to be a humour....
I will scourge those apes,
And to those courteous eyes oppose a mirror,
As large as is the stage whereon we act;
Where they shall see the time's deformity
Anatomized in every nerve and sinew,
With constant courage and contempt of fear....
My strict hand
Was made to seize on vice, and with a gripe
Squeeze out the humour of such spongy souls
As lick up every idle vanity.
(Every man out of his humour, Prologue.)
[138]: Comparez le Volpone au Légataire de Regnard, le seizième siècle qui finit au dix-huitième qui commence.
Good morning to the day, and, next, my gold!
Open the shrine, that I may see my saint.
Hail the world's soul and mine!... O thou son of Sol,
But brighter than thy father, let me kiss,
With adoration, thee and every relick
Of sacred treasure in this blessed room!
(Acte I, sc. i.)