_Mom_. Alas, my noble Lord, he is not rich, Nor titles hath, nor in his tender cheekes The standing lake of Impudence corrupts; Hath nought in all the World, nor nought wood have, To grace him in the prostituted light. But if a man wood consort with a soule Where all mans Sea of gall and bitternes Is quite evaporate with her holy flames, And in whose powers a Dove-like innocence Fosters her own deserts, and life and death Runnes hand in hand before them, all the Skies Cleere, and transparent to her piercing eyes, Then wood my friend be something, but till then A _Cipher_, nothing, or the worst of men. _Foul_. Sweet Lord, lets goe visit him. _Enter Goose-cappe_. _Goos_. Pray, good my Lord, what's that you talke on? _Mom_. Are you come from your necessarie busines, Sir _Gyles_? we talke of the visiting of my sicke friend _Clarence_. _Goos_. O good my Lord lets visite him, cause I knowe his brother. _Hip_. Know his brother, nay then Count doe not denie him. _Goos_. Pray my Lord whether was eldest, he or his elder brother? _Mom_. O! the younger brother eldest while you live, sir _Gyles_. _Goos_. I say so still my Lord, but I am so borne downe with truth, as never any Knight ith world was I thinke. _Ta_. A man wood thinke he speakes simply now; but indeed it is in the will of the parents, to make which child they will youngest, or eldest: For often we see the youngest inherite, wherein he is eldest. _Eug_. Your logicall wit my Lord is able to make any thing good. _Mom_. Well come sweet Lords, and Ladies, let us spend The time till supper-time with some such sights, As my poore house is furnished withall, Pictures, and jewels; of which implements, It may be I have some will please you much. _Goos_, Sweet Lord, lets see them. [_Exeunt_. [SCENE 2.] _Enter Clarence, and Doctor_. _Do_. I thinke your disease sir, be rather of the minde then the body. _Cla_. Be there diseases of the minde _Doctor_? _Do_. No question sir, even as there be of the body. _Cla_. And cures for them too? _Do_. And cures for them too, but not by Physick. _Cla_. You will have their diseases, greifes? will you not? _Do_. Yes, oftentimes. _Cla_. And doe not greifes ever rise out of passions? _Do_. Evermore. _Cla_. And doe not passions proceed from corporall distempers? _Do_. Not the passions of the minde, for the minde many times is sicke, when the bodie is healthfull. _Cla_. But is not the mindes-sicknes of power to make the body sicke? _Do_. In time, certaine. _Cla_. And the bodies ill affections able to infect the mind? _Do_. No question. _Cla_. Then if there be such a naturall commerce of Powers betwixt them, that the ill estate of the one offends the other, why shood not the medicines for one cure the other? _Do_. Yet it will not you see. _Hei mihi quod nullis amor est medicabilis herbis_.[44]