Fort. By travel, boys, I have seen all these things.
Andel. And these are sights for none but gods and kings.
Shad. Yes, and for Christian creatures, if they be not blind.
Fort. In these two hands do I grip all the world.
This leather purse, and this bald woollen hat
Make me a monarch. Here’s my crown and sceptre!
In progress will I now go through the world.
I’ll crack your shoulders, boys, with bags of gold
Ere I depart; on Fortune’s wings I ride,
And now sit in the height of human pride.
Fortune. (Coming forward.) Now, fool, thou liest; where thy proud feet do tread,
These shall throw down thy cold and breathless head.
Fort. O sacred deity, what sin is done,
That Death’s iron fist should wrestle with thy son? [All kneel.
Fortune. Thou art no son of Fortune, but her slave:
Thy cedar hath aspired to his full height.
Thy sun-like glory hath advanced herself
Into the top of pride’s meridian,
And down amain it comes. From beggary
I plumed thee like an ostrich, like that ostrich
Thou hast eaten metals, and abused my gifts,
Hast played the ruffian, wasted that in riots
Which as a blessing I bestowed on thee.
Fort. Forgive me, I will be more provident.
Fortune. No, endless follies follow endless wealth.
Thou hadst thy fancy, I must have thy fate,
Which is, to die when th’art most fortunate.
This inky thread, thy ugly sins have spun,
Black life, black death; faster! that it were done.