This world is not for aye, nor ’tis not strange
That even our loves should with our fortunes change
For ’tis a question left us yet to prove,
Whether love lead fortune or else fortune love.
The great man down, you mark his favourite flies;
The poor advanced makes friends of enemies;
And hitherto doth love on fortune tend;
For who not needs shall never lack a friend;
And who in want a hollow friend doth try
Directly seasons him his enemy.