Of that ignorance which in sight
Even of truth the true goal misses.
And as it appears not wise
Thus to enter a strange city
Unattended and unknown,
Asking even my way, 'tis fitter
That 'till night doth conquer day,
Here while light doth last, to linger;
By your dress and by these books
Round you, like a learned circle
Of wise friends, I see you are
A great student, and the instinct
Of my soul doth ever draw me
Unto men to books addicted.

CYPRIAN. Have you studied much?

DEMON. Well, no;
But I've knowledge quite sufficient
Not to be deemed ignorant.

CYPRIAN. Then, what sciences know you?

DEMON. Many.

CYPRIAN. Why, we cannot reach even one
After years of studious vigil,
And can you (what vanity!)
Without study know so many?