His Life and Genius 163 



askance at truth," and he bitterly blamed fortune 

 that did not provide better for his life than 

 41 public means which public manners breed." 

 His name had received a brand and his nature 

 been subdued to an employment and environment 

 which sank him socially below the lofty eminence 

 on which his genius then entitled him to stand, 

 and has now in glory throned him. Yet, after 

 all, he passionately resents the censorious com- 

 ments of the world, defiantly declaring that it is 

 better to be esteemed vile than to lose the just 

 pleasure of conduct which, although esteemed 

 vile by others, is not so to his own feeling, they 

 counting bad what he thinks good. 



No, I am that I am ; and they that level 



At my abuses reckon up their own ; 



I may be straight, though themselves be bevel, 



By their rank thoughts my deed must not be shown. 



He foresees clearly the day when the friendly 

 communion with his patron shall end, and the 

 latter by advised respects and reasons of settled 

 gravity pass him strangely with scarce a greeting 

 glance, much, in fact, as in the play of Henry IV. 

 he represents Prince Hal as passing his old com- 

 panion, Falstaff, without mark of recognition. 

 Such, however, is his extravagantly professed 

 devotion that in meekest self-abnegation he en- 

 treats him not ever to think of him if it would be 

 a pain to remember him, not so much as mention 

 his name lest the world should mock and shun 

 him for his former friendship, protesting that he 



