MIT. You paint forth a monster.

COR. He will prefer all countries before his native, and thinks he can
never sufficiently, or with admiration enough, deliver his affectionate
conceit of foreign atheistical policies. But stay --
[ENTER MACILENTE.
Observe these: he'll appear himself anon.

MIT. O, this is your envious man, Macilente, I think.

COR. The same, sir.


ACT I

SCENE I. -- The Country.

ENTER MACILENTE, WITH A BOOK.

MACI. "Viri est, fortunae caecitatem facile ferre."
'Tis true; but, Stoic, where, in the vast world,
Doth that man breathe, that can so much command
His blood and his affection? Well, I see
I strive in vain to cure my wounded soul;
For every cordial that my thoughts apply
Turns to a corsive and doth eat it farther.
There is no taste in this philosophy;
'Tis like a potion that a man should drink,
But turns his stomach with the sight of it.