Coris. I, that forgot
I was made of flesh and blood, and thought the silk
Spun by the diligent worm out of their entrails,
Too coarse to clothe me, and the softest down
Too hard to sleep on; that disdain'd to look
On virtue being in rags, that from my servants
Expected adoration, am made justly
The scorn of my own bondwoman.
Cleon. I know I cannot
Last long, that's all my comfort.
Mar. What a true mirror
Were this sad spectacle for secure greatness!
Here they, that never see themselves, but in
The glass of servile flattery, might behold
The weak foundation upon which they build
Their trust in human frailty. Happy are those,
That knowing, in their births, they are subject to
Uncertain change, are still prepared, and arm'd
For either fortune: a rare principle,
And, with much labour, learn'd in wisdom's school!
For, as these bondmen, by their actions, show
That their prosperity, like too large a sail
For their small bark of judgment, sinks them with
A fore-right gale of liberty, ere they reach
The port they long to touch at: so these wretches,
Swollen with the false opinion of their worth,
And proud of blessings left them, not acquired;
That did believe they could with giant arms
Fathom the earth, and were above their fates,
Those borrow'd helps, that did support them, vanish'd,
Fall of themselves, and by unmanly suffering
Betray their proper weakness, and make known
Their boasted greatness was lent, not their own.
Cleon. O for some meat! they sit long.
Coris. We forgot,
When we drew out intemperate feasts till midnight;
Their hunger was not thought on, nor their watchings;
Nor did we hold ourselves served to the height,
But when we did exact and force their duties
Beyond their strength and power.
Asot. We pay for 't now:
Re-enter Poliphron, Cimbrio, Gracculo, Zanthia, and Olympia, drunk and quarrelling.
Cimb. Do not hold me:
Not kiss the bride!
Poliph. No, sir.
Mar. [coming forward] Hold!