For the dominion that each of his darlings,
His friends so trusty, aids to found.
If a man, however, might pluck from the tyrant
Each several garments of the royal garb,
And from him sever the various servants,
And likewise the power that once he possessed,
Then might you see that he is most like
To one of the men that now most busily
Press about him in painful service;
He might well be worse, but I think no better.
If such an one ever, all unwitting,
Happened to lose by lack of fortune
State and raiment and ready service,
And the power also which we have pictured:
If any of such things he sees no longer,
I know he will fancy that he has fallen
Deep in a dungeon, or himself he deems
In shackles fastened. This I may show,
That from over-measure in any matter,
In food or in dress, or in wine-drinking,
Or in sweetmeats, sorest waxes
The mighty frenzy of fierce desire
That clouds sore the inmost spirit
Of every mortal. Thence come most often
Evil pride of heart and profitless strife.
When rage is burning, within their bosoms
Their hearts are whelmed with waves enormous
Of seething passion, and soon thereafter
Are gripped in turn with grievous gloom,
Firmly caught. Anon there comes
