_Gro_. 'Tis this that swells his pride Beyond those lymitts his late modestie Ever observd. This makes him count the Soldier As his owne creature, and to arrogate All prosperous proceedings to himself; Detracts from you and all men, you scarce holding The second place. _Bar_. When I gave him the first: I robd myself, for it was justly mine. The labourinthes of pollicie I have trod To find the clew of safetie, for my Cuntrie Requird a head more knowing and a courage As bold as his,--though I must say 'tis great. His stile of Excellencie was my guift; Money, the strength and fortune of the war, The help of _England_ and the aide of _Fraance_, I only can call mine: and shall I then, Now in the sun-set of my daie of honour, When I should passe with glory to my rest And raise my Monument from my Cuntries praises, Sitt downe and with a boorish patience suffer The harvest that I labourd for to be Anothers spoile? the peoples thancks and praises, Which should make faire way for me to my grave, To have another object? the choice fruites Of my deepe projects grace anothers Banquet? No; this ungratefull Cuntry, this base people, Most base to my deserts, shall first with horrour Know he that could defeat the _Spanish_ counsailes And countermyne their dark works, he that made The State what 'tis, will change it once againe Ere fall with such dishonour. _Mod_. Be advisd, Sir; I love you as a friend, and as a wise man Have ever honourd you: be as you were then, And I am still the same. Had I not heard Theis last distemperd words, I would have sworne That in the making up of _Barnavelt_ Reason had only wrought, passion no hand in't. But now I find you are lesse then a man, Lesse then a common man, and end that race You have so long run strongly like a child, For such a one old age or honours surfeyts Againe have made you. _Bar_. This to me? _Mod_. To you, Sir: For is't not boyish folly (youthfull heat I cannot call it) to spume downe what all His life hath labourd for? Shall _Barnavelt_ That now should studie how to die, propound New waies to get a name? or keep a being A month or two to ruyn whatsoever The good succes of forty yeeres employment In the most serious affaires of State Have raisd up to his memory? And for what? Glory, the popular applause,--fine purchase For a gray beard to deale in! _Gro_. You offend him. _Mod_. 'Tis better then to flatter him as you doe. Be but yourself againe and then consider What alteration in the State can be By which you shall not loose. Should you bring in (As heaven avert the purpose and the thought Of such a mischief) the old Tirrany That _Spaine_ hath practisd, do you thinck you should be Or greater then you are or more secure From danger? Would you change the goverment, Make it a Monarchie? Suppose this don And any man you favourd most set up, Shall your authoritie by him encrease? Be not so foolishly seducd; for what Can hope propose to you in any change Which ev'n now you posses not?