Whose sublime pursuits, restricted
To celestial things, make even
The most innocent thought seem wicked,
Are by no means likely persons
To divert a man afflicted
With this melancholy madness:
Better take him into the thickest
Throng of Rome, there flesh and bone
Goddesses he 'll find, and fitter.--

CLAUDIUS.
Ah! you speak but as the vulgar:
Is it not the bliss of blisses
To adore some lovely being
In the ideal, in the distance,
Almost as a vision?--

ESCARPIN.
Yes;
'T is delightful; I admit it,
But there 's good and better: think
Of the choice that once a simple
Mother gave her son: she said:
"Egg or rasher, which will I give thee?"
And he said: "The rasher, mother,
But with the egg upon it, prithee".
"Both are best", so says the proverb.

CLAUDIUS.
Well, if tastes did n't sometimes differ,