Chr. Why are bad novels written, but for you?
Car. That league with Egypt, was it not through you?
Chr. And Lais loves that lout—and all for you!
Car. And our new admiral's tower—
Chr. (impatiently to Cario). May fall, I trust,
Upon your noisy head!—But in brief, my friend,
Are not all things that are done done for you?
For, good or bad, you are alone the cause.
Ay, and in war, that side is safe to win
Into whose scale you throw the golden weight.
Pl. Am I indeed so potent as all this?
Chr. Yea, by great heaven, and very much more than this,
Since none hath ever had his fill of you:
Of all things else there comes satiety;
We tire of Love—
Car. Of loaves—
Chr. Of music—
Car. Sweetmeats—
Chr. Of honour—
Car. Cheesecakes—
Chr. Valour—
Car. Of dried figs—
Chr. Ambition—
Car. Biscuit—
Chr. High command—
Car. Pea-soup.
Chr. Of you alone is no man filled too full.
Still Plutus follows his guides unwillingly. His experiences as the guest of men have not hitherto been pleasant:—
Pl. If I perchance took lodging with a miser,
He digs me a hole i' the earth, and buries me;
And if some honest friend shall come to him,
