BELL. Vainlove, and abroad so early! Good-morrow; I thought a
contemplative lover could no more have parted with his bed in a
morning than he could have slept in't.

VAIN. Bellmour, good-morrow. Why, truth on't is, these early
sallies are not usual to me; but business, as you see, sir--
[Showing Letters.] And business must be followed, or be lost.

BELL. Business! And so must time, my friend, be close pursued, or
lost. Business is the rub of life, perverts our aim, casts off the
bias, and leaves us wide and short of the intended mark.

VAIN. Pleasure, I guess you mean.

BELL. Ay; what else has meaning?

VAIN. Oh, the wise will tell you -

BELL. More than they believe--or understand.

VAIN. How, how, Ned! A wise man say more than he understands?

BELL. Ay, ay! Wisdom's nothing but a pretending to know and
believe more than we really do. You read of but one wise man, and
all that he knew was, that he knew nothing. Come, come, leave
business to idlers and wisdom to fools; they have need of 'em. Wit
be my faculty, and pleasure my occupation; and let Father Time
shake his glass. Let low and earthly souls grovel till they have
worked themselves six foot deep into a grave. Business is not my
element--I roll in a higher orb, and dwell -