A nurse attends him to lay straight his limbs,
Present his gruel, and respect his whims.
300
Now, shall this dotard from our hero hold
His lands and lordships? Shall he hide his gold?
That which he cannot use, and dare not show,
And will not give—why longer should he owe?
Yet, 'twould be murder should we snap the locks,
And take the thing he worships from the box;
So let him dote and dream: but, till he die,