Good day, sir. I am glad you're well. I have not seen you long: how goes the world? It wears, sir, as it grows. Ay, that's well known: But what particular rarity? what strange, Which manifold record not matches? See, Magic of bounty! all these spirits thy power Hath conjured to attend. I know the merchant. I know them both; th' other's a jeweller. O, 'tis a worthy lord. Nay, that's most fix'd. A most incomparable man, breathed, as it were, To an untirable and continuate goodness: He passes. I have a jewel here-- O, pray, let's see't: for the Lord Timon, sir? If he will touch the estimate: but, for that-- 'When we for recompense have praised the vile, It stains the glory in that happy verse Which aptly sings the good.' 'Tis a good form. And rich: here is a water, look ye. You are rapt, sir, in some work, some dedication To the great lord. A thing slipp'd idly from me. Our poesy is as a gum, which oozes From whence 'tis nourish'd: the fire i' the flint Shows not till it be struck; our gentle flame Provokes itself and like the current flies Each bound it chafes. What have you there? A picture, sir. When comes your book forth? Upon the heels of my presentment, sir. Let's see your piece. 'Tis a good piece. So 'tis: this comes off well and excellent. Indifferent. Admirable: how this grace Speaks his own standing! what a mental power This eye shoots forth! how big imagination Moves in this lip! to the dumbness of the gesture One might interpret. It is a pretty mocking of the life. Here is a touch; is't good? I will say of it, It tutors nature: artificial strife Lives in these touches, livelier than life. How this lord is follow'd! The senators of Athens: happy man! Look, more! You see this confluence, this great flood of visitors. I have, in this rough work, shaped out a man, Whom this beneath world doth embrace and hug With amplest entertainment: my free drift Halts not particularly, but moves itself In a wide sea of wax: no levell'd malice Infects one comma in the course I hold; But flies an eagle flight, bold and forth on, Leaving no tract behind. How shall I understand you? I will unbolt to you. You see how all conditions, how all minds, As well of glib and slippery creatures as Of grave and austere quality,