_Duch._ We do confiscate, Towards the satisfying of your accounts, All that you have. _Ant._ I am all yours; and 'tis very fit All mine should be so. _Duch._ So, sir, you have your pass. _Ant._ You may see, gentlemen, what 'tis to serve A prince with body and soul. [_Exit._ _Bos._ Here's an example for extortion: what moisture is drawn out of the sea, when foul weather comes, pours down, and runs into the sea again. _Duch._ I would know what are your opinions Of this Antonio. _2nd Off._ He could not abide to see a pig's head gaping: I thought your grace would find him a Jew. _3rd Off._ I would you had been his officer, for your own sake. _4th Off._ You would have had more money. _1st Off._ He stopped his ears with black wool, and to those came to him for money said he was thick of hearing. _2nd Off._ Some said he was an hermaphrodite, for he could not abide a woman. _4th Off._ How scurvy proud he would look when the treasury was full! Well, let him go. _1st Off._ Yes, and the chippings of the buttery fly after him, to scour his gold chain. _Duch._ Leave us. [_Exeunt_ Officers. What do you think of these? _Bos._ That these are rogues that in's prosperity, But to have waited on his fortune, could have wished His dirty stirrup rivetted through their noses, And followed after's mule, like a bear in a ring; Would have prostituted their daughters to his lust; Made their first-born intelligencers; thought none happy But such as were born under his blest planet, And wore his livery: and do these lice drop off now? Well, never look to have the like again: He hath left a sort of flattering rogues behind him; Their doom must follow. Princes pay flatterers In their own money: flatterers dissemble their vices, And they dissemble their lies; that's justice. Alas, poor gentleman! _Duch._ Poor! he hath amply filled his coffers. _Bos._ Sure, he was too honest. Pluto,[127] the god of riches, When he's sent by Jupiter to any man, He goes limping, to signify that wealth That comes on God's name comes slowly; but when he's sent On the devil's errand, he rides post and comes in by scuttles. Let me show you what a most unvalued jewel You have in a wanton humour thrown away, To bless the man shall find him. He was an excellent Courtier and most faithful; a soldier that thought it As beastly to know his own value too little As devilish to acknowledge it too much. Both his virtue and form deserved a far better fortune: His discourse rather delighted to judge itself than show itself: His breast was filled with all perfection, And yet it seemed a private whispering-room, It made so little noise of't. _Duch._ But he was basely descended.