Let me seal your lips for ever:
For, did I think that anything but th' air
Could carry these words from you, I should wish
You had no breath at all.--Now, sir, in your contemplation?
You are studying to become a great wise fellow.
BOSOLA. O, sir, the opinion of wisdom is a foul tetter<39>
that runs all over a man's body: if simplicity direct us to have
no evil, it directs us to a happy being; for the subtlest folly
proceeds from the subtlest wisdom: let me be simply honest.
ANTONIO. I do understand your inside.
BOSOLA. Do you so?
ANTONIO. Because you would not seem to appear to th' world
Puff'd up with your preferment, you continue
This out-of-fashion melancholy: leave it, leave it.
BOSOLA. Give me leave to be honest in any phrase, in any compliment
whatsoever. Shall I confess myself to you? I look no higher than
I can reach: they are the gods that must ride on winged horses.
A lawyer's mule of a slow pace will both suit my disposition and
business; for, mark me, when a man's mind rides faster than his horse
can gallop, they quickly both tire.
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