But how? ay, there's the rub! pausing I've got my cue:
The world's a masquerade! the masquers, you, you, you.
To Boxes, Bit, and Gallery.
Lud! what a group the motley scene discloses!
False wits, false wives, false virgins, and false spouses!
Statesmen with bridles on; and, close beside 'em,
Patriots in party-colour'd suits that ride 'em:
There Hebes, turn'd of fifty, try once more
To raise a flame in Cupids of threescore;
These in their turn, with appetites as keen,