Now the place he fought for is base, his rival unworthy, his
adversary injurious, officers corrupt, court infectious; and how well is
he that may be his own man, his own master, that may live safely in a
mean distance, at pleasure, free from starving, free from burning? But
if his designs speed well, ere he be warm in that feat, his mind is
possessed of an higher. What he hath is but a degree to what he would
have. Now he scorneth what he formerly aspired to. His success doth not
give him so much contentment as provocation; neither can he be at rest
so long as he hath one, either to overlook, or to match, or to emulate
him. When his country friend comes to visit him, he carries him up to
the awful presence, and now in his sight, crowding nearer to the chair
of state, desires to be looked on, desires to be spoken to by the
greatest, and studies how to offer an occasion, lest he should seem
unknown, unregarded; and if any gesture of the least grace fall happily
upon him, he looks back upon his friend, lest he should carelessly let
it pass, without a note; and what he wanteth in sense he supplies in
history. His disposition is never but shamefully unthankful, for unless
he have all he hath nothing. It must be a large draught, whereof he will
not say that those few drops do not slake but inflame him. So still he
thinks himself the worse for small favours. His wit so contrives the
likely plots of his promotion, as if he would steal it away without
God's knowledge, besides His will.
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