breath;
    Thus are you scorn’d aboue, and curst beneath. 
      Me thinks that man (vnhappy though he be)
    Is now thrice happy in respect of me,
    Who hath no friend; for that in hauing none
    He is not stirr’d as I am, to bemone 40
    My miserable losse, who but in vaine,
    May euer looke to find the like againe. 
    This more then mine own selfe; that who had seene
    His care of me where euer I had beene,
    And had not knowne his actiue spirit before,
    Vpon some braue thing working euermore: 
    He would haue sworne that to no other end
    He had been borne:  but onely for my friend. 
    I had been happy if nice Nature had
    (Since now my lucke falls out to be so bad) 50
    Made me vnperfect, either of so soft
    And yeelding temper, that lamenting oft,
    I into teares my mournefull selfe might melt;
    Or else so dull, my losse not to haue felt. 
    I haue by my too deare experience bought,
    That fooles and mad men, whom I euer thought
    The most vnhappy, are in deede not so: 
    And therefore I lesse pittie can bestowe
    (Since that my sence, my sorrowe so can sound)
    On those in Bedlam that are bound, 60
    And scarce feele scourging; and when as I meete
    A foole by Children followed in the Streete,
    Thinke I (poor wretch) thou from my griefe art free,
    Nor couldst thou feele it, should it light on thee;
    But that I am a Christian, and am taught
    By him who with his precious bloud me bought,
    Meekly like him my crosses to endure,
    Else would they please me well, that for their cure,
    When as they feele their conscience doth them brand,
    Vpon themselues dare lay a violent hand; 70
    Not suffering Fortune with her murdering knife,
    Stand like a Surgeon working on the life,
    Deserting this part, that ioynt off to cut,
    Shewing that Artire, ripping then that gut,
    Whilst the dull beastly World with her squint eye,
    Is to behold the strange Anatomie. 
      I am persuaded that those which we read
    To be man-haters, were not so indeed,
    The Athenian Timon, and beside him more
    Of which the Latines, as the Greekes haue store; 80
    Nor not did they all humane manners hate,
    Nor yet maligne mans dignity and state. 
    But finding our fraile life how euery day,
    It like a bubble vanisheth away: 
    For this condition did mankinde detest,
    Farre more incertaine then that of the beast. 
      Sure heauen doth hate this world and deadly too,
    Else as it hath done it would neuer doe,
    For if it did not, it would ne’re permit
    A man of so much vertue, knowledge, wit, 90