POET. Good day, sir.
PAINTER. I am glad y'are well.
POET. I have not seen you long; how goes the world?
PAINTER. It wears, sir, as it grows.
POET. 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 conjur'd to attend! I know the merchant.
PAINTER. I know them both; th' other's a jeweller.
- 1st World Library