Pal. You have made me
(I thank you, cousin Arcite) almost wanton
With my captivity; what a misery
It is to live abroad, and every where!
’Tis like a beast, methinks! I find the court here,
I’m sure a more content; and all those pleasures,
That woo the wills of men to vanity,
I see thro’ now: and am sufficient
To tell the world, ’tis but a gaudy shadow
That old time, as he passes by, takes with him.