Some would blame and be angry at themselves to perceive themselves tickled with so vain a pleasure our humours are never too vain that are pleasant let them be what they may, if they constantly content a man of common understanding, I could not have the heart to blame him.
I am very much obliged to Fortune, in that, to this very hour, she has offered me no outrage beyond what I was well able to bear. Is it not her custom to let those live in quiet by whom she is not importuned?
"Quanto quisque sibi plum negaverit,
A diis plum feret: nil cupientium
Nudus castra peto . . . .
Multa petentibus
Desunt multa."
["The more each man denies himself, the more the gods give him.
Poor as I am, I seek the company of those who ask nothing; they who
desire much will be deficient in much."
—Horace, Od., iii. 16,21,42.]
If she continue her favour, she will dismiss me very well satisfied:
"Nihil supra
Deos lacesso."
["I trouble the gods no farther."—Horace, Od., ii. 18, 11.]
But beware a shock: there are a thousand who perish in the port. I easily comfort myself for what shall here happen when I shall be gone, present things trouble me enough:
"Fortunae caetera mando."
["I leave the rest to fortune."—Ovid, Metam., ii. 140.]