XXXIII
He hunts not fish, but as an officer, Stayes in his court, at his owne net, and there All suitors of all sorts themselves enthrall; So on his backe lyes this whale wantoning, And in his gulfe-like throat, sucks every thing That passeth neare. Fish chaseth fish, and all, Flyer and follower, in this whirlepoole fall; O might not states of more equality Consist? and is it of necessity That thousand guiltlesse smals, to make one great, must die?