I'd have you better know this trade of ours:
'Tis a profession, sirs, to ravish admiration:
Its nursing-father is the Law; its birth
Derives from heaven. All other trades bear stamp
Of frail humanity upon them, mix'd,
I grant, with show of wisdom—but your parasite
Is sprung from Jove: and tell me, who in heaven
Is Jove's compeer? 'Tis he that under name
Of Philian, enters ev'ry mansion—own it
Who will, gentle or simple, prince or artisan: