HEU. Mistress Superbia, a gentlewoman of my acquaintance, wished me to devise her a new set for her ruff and an odd tire. I pray, sir, help me out with it. PHA. Ah, boy, in my conceit 'tis a hard matter to perform. These women have well-nigh tired me with devising tires for them, and set me at a nonplus for new sets. Their heads are so light, and their eyes so coy, that I know not how to please them. HEU. I pray, sir, she hath a bad face, and fain would have suitors. Fantastical and odd apparel would perchance draw somebody to look on her. PHA. If her face be nought, in my opinion, the more view it the worse. Bid her wear the multitude of her deformities under a mask, till my leisure will serve to devise some durable and unstained blush of painting. HEU. Very good, sir. PHA. Away, then, hie thee again; meet me at the court within this hour at the farthest. [_Exit_ HEURESIS.] O heavens! how have I been troubled these latter times with women, fools, babes, tailors, poets, swaggerers, gulls, ballad-makers! They have almost disrobed me of all the toys and trifles I can devise. Were it not that I pity the multitude of printers, these sonnet-mongers should starve for conceits for all Phantastes. But these puling lovers--I cannot but laugh at them, and their encomiums of their mistresses. They make, forsooth, her hair of gold, her eyes of diamond, her cheeks of roses, her lips of rubies, her teeth of pearl, and her whole body of ivory; and when they have thus idoled her like Pygmalion, they fall down and worship her.[222] Psyche, thou hast laid a hard task upon my shoulders to invent at every one's ask. Were it not that I refresh my dulness once a day with thy most angelical presence, 'twere impossible for me to undergo it. SCAENA TERTIA. COMMUNIS SENSUS, _a grave man, in a black velvet cassock like a councillor, speaks coming out of the door_. COMMUNIS SENSUS, PHANTASTES. COM. SEN. I cannot stay, I tell you. 'Tis more than time I were at court. I know my sovereign Psyche hath expected me this hour. PHA. In good time; yonder comes Common Sense. I imagine it should be he by his voice. COM. SEN. Crave my counsel! Tell me what manner of man he is? Can he entertain a man in his house? Can he hold his velvet cap in one hand, and vail[223] his bonnet with the other? Knows he how to become a scarlet gown? Hath he a pair of fresh posts at his door?[224] PHA. He's about some hasty state matters. He talks of posts, methinks. COM. SEN. Can he part a couple of dogs brawling in the street? Why, then, choose him mayor. Upon my credit, he'll prove a wise officer. PHA. Save you, my lord; I have attended your leisure this hour.