Are monologue (Act 3) — Cynthia's Revels; Or, The Fountain of Self-Love

Patience, gentle Crites. This knot of spiders will be soon dissolved, And all their webs swept out of Cynthia's court, When once her glorious deity appears, And but presents itself in her full light: 'Till when, go in, and spend your hours with us, Your honour'd friends. Time and Phronesis, In contemplation of our goddess' name. Think on some sweet and choice invention now, Worthy her serious and illustrious eyes, That from the merit of it we may take Desired occasion to prefer your worth, And make your service known to Cynthia. It is the pride of Arete to grace Her studious lovers; and, in scorn of time, Envy, and ignorance, to lift their state Above a vulgar height. True happiness Consists not in the multitude of friends, But in their worth, and choice. Nor would I have Virtue a popular regard pursue: Let them be good that love me, though but few.