Lives in these touches, livelier than life.

[Enter certain SENATORS, who pass over the stage.]

PAINTER.
How this lord is followed!

POET.
The senators of Athens: happy man!

PAINTER.
Look, more!

POET.
You see this confluence, this great flood of visitors.
I have, in this rough work, shap'd 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.

PAINTER.
How shall I understand you?

POET.
I will unbolt to you.
You see how all conditions, how all minds--