(Fortunes proud mushrome shot up in a night)
Stand like an Atlas under our Kings arme;
Which greatnesse with him Monsieur now envies
As bitterly and deadly as the Guise.120
Tam. What! he that was but yesterday his maker,
His raiser, and preserver?
Mont. Even the same.
Each naturall agent works but to this end,
To render that it works on like it selfe;