Pisc. And wherefore (if I may further trouble you, being as you see a stranger) do you wear so gaudy, but withal so ill-assorted, a garb?
Lun. Why, Sir, I'll tell you. Do you read the Morning Post?
Pisc. Alas, Sir, I do not.
Lun. 'Tis pity of your life you do not. For, look you, not to read the Post, and not to know the newest and most commended fashions, are but one and the same thing. And yet this raiment, that I wear, is not the newest fashion. No, nor has it ever been, nor will it ever be, the fashion.
Ven. I can well believe it.
Lun. And therefore 'tis, Sir, that I wear it. 'Tis but a badge of greatness. My deeds you see around you. Si monumentum quæris, circumspice! You know Latin?
Ven. Not I, Sir! It shames me to say it.
Lun. You are then (let me roundly tell you) monstrum horrendum, informe, ingens, cui lumen ademptum!
Ven. Sir, you may tell it me roundly—or, if you list, squarely—or again, triangularly. But if, as you affirm, I see your deeds around me, I would fain know which they be.