Fire at advancement, to beare state, and flourish;50
In his rise therefore shall my bounties shine:
None lothes the world so much, nor loves to scoffe it,
But gold and grace will make him surfet of it.
What, D'Ambois!—
Buss.He, sir.
Mons.Turn'd to earth, alive!
Up man, the sunne shines on thee.
Buss.Let it shine:[55]