When we our betters see bearing our woes,
e scarcely think our miseries our foes.
lio alone suffers, suffers must i' the mind,
Leaving free things and happy shows behind ;
But then the mind much sufferance doth o'erskip,
When grief hath mates, and bearing-fellowship
How light and portable my pain seems now,
When that which makes me bend -makes the king bow.
121
Act. iv. Sce. i.
Our means secure us, and our mere defects
Prove our commodities. 122
As flies to wanton boys, are we to the gods,
They kill us for their sport. 123
Sce, iii.
The stars above us 3 govern our conditions ;
Else one self mate and mate could not beget
Such different issues. 124
