_Cler._ But what one great man dreames of that but you? All take their births and birth-rights left to them (Acquir'd by others) for their owne worths purchase, 300 When many a foole in both is great as they: And who would thinke they could winne with their worths Wealthy possessions, when, wonne to their hands, They neyther can judge justly of their value, Nor know their use? and therefore they are puft 305 With such proud tumours as this Monsieur is, Enabled onely by the goods they have To scorne all goodnesse: none great fill their fortunes; But as those men that make their houses greater, Their housholds being lesse, so Fortune raises 310 Huge heapes of out-side in these mightie men, And gives them nothing in them. _Gui._ True as truth: And therefore they had rather drowne their substance In superfluities of brickes and stones (Like Sysiphus, advancing of them ever, 315 And ever pulling downe) then lay the cost Of any sluttish corner on a man, Built with Gods finger, and enstil'd his temple. _Bal._ Tis nobly said, my lord. _Gui._ I would have these things Brought upon stages, to let mightie misers 320 See all their grave and serious miseries plaid, As once they were in Athens and olde Rome. _Cler._ Nay, we must now have nothing brought on stages, But puppetry, and pide ridiculous antickes: Men thither come to laugh, and feede fool-fat, 325 Checke at all goodnesse there, as being prophan'd: When, wheresoever goodnesse comes, shee makes The place still sacred, though with other feete Never so much tis scandal'd and polluted. Let me learne anything that fits a man, 330 In any stables showne, as well as stages. _Bal._ Why, is not all the world esteem'd a stage?