Some made a cradle of the ermined capes
Of kingly mantles; some across the tire
Of pontiffs rode, like demons; others played
Under the crown which girded with empire
A baby’s or an idiot’s brow, and made
Their nests in it. The old anatomies
Sate hatching their bare broods under the shade
Of demon wings, and laughed from their dead eyes
To reassume the delegated power,
Array’d in which those worms did monarchize,