Cyn monologue (Act 5) — Cynthia's Revels; Or, The Fountain of Self-Love

When hath Diana, like an envious wretch, That glitters only to his soothed self, Denying to the world the precious use Of hoarded wealth, withheld her friendly aid? Monthly we spend our still-repaired shine, And not forbid our virgin-waxen torch To burn and blaze, while nutriment doth last: That once consumed, out of Jove's treasury A new we take, and stick it in our sphere, To give the mutinous kind of wanting men Their look'd-for light. Yet what is their desert? Bounty is wrong'd, interpreted as due; Mortals can challenge not a ray, by right, Yet do expect the whole of Cynthia's light. But if that deities withdrew their gifts For human follies, what could men deserve But death and darkness? It behoves the high, For their own sakes, to do things worthily.