Of their own misery and want.
BUTLER.

* * * * *

LONDON:

1818.


MATTHEW. Oh! it's your only fine humour, sir. Your true melancholy
breeds your perfect fine wit, sir. I am melancholy myself, divers
times, sir; and then do I no more but take pen and paper presently,
and overflow you half a score or a dozen of sonnets at a sitting.

STEPHEN. Truly, sir, and I love such things out of measure.

MATTHEW. Why, I pray you, sir, make use of my study: it's at your
service.

STEPHEN. I thank you, sir, I shall be bold, I warrant you. Have you a
stool there, to be melancholy upon?

BEN JONSON, _Every Man in his Humour_, Act 3, Sc. I

Ay esleu gazouiller et siffler oye, comme dit le commun
proverbe, entre les cygnes, plutoust que d'estre entre
tant de gentils poetes et faconds orateurs mut du tout
estime.