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The Works of Henry Fielding, vol. 12

Act 1 — SCENE IV.

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Grizzle (solus.) [1] Where art thou, Grizzle? where are now thy glories? Where are the drums that waken thee to honour? Greatness is a laced coat from Monmouth-street, Which fortune lends us for a day to wear, To-morrow puts it on another's back. The spiteful sun but yesterday survey'd His rival high as Saint Paul's cupola; Now may he see me as Fleet-ditch laid low.

[Footnote 1: Mr Banks has (I wish I could not say too servilely) imitated this of Grizzle in his Earl of Essex: Where art thou, Essex, &c.]

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