Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye; I feel my heart new opened. O, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes favours! There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, More pangs and fears than wars or women have; And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again. Shakespeare.King Henry VIII., Act III. Scene 2. (Wolsey on the Vicissitudes of Life.)