Farces and tumbling tricks are pleasant to the spectators, but a wearisome toil to those by whom they are performed.
And that this is so, we see that princes divert themselves sometimes in disguising their quality, awhile to depose themselves, and to stoop to the poor and ordinary way of living of the meanest of their people.
"Plerumque gratae divitibus vices Mundaeque parvo sub lare pauperum Coenae, sine aulaeis et ostro, Soliicitam explicuere frontem." ["The rich are often pleased with variety; and the plain supper in a poor cottage, without tapestry and purple, has relaxed the anxious brow."-- Horace, Od., iii.

29, 13.] Nothing is so distasteful and clogging as abundance.

What appetite would not be baffled to see three hundred women at its mercy, as the grand signor has in his seraglio?
And, of his ancestors what fruition or taste of sport did he reserve to himself, who never went hawking without seven thousand falconers?
And besides all this, I fancy that this lustre of grandeur brings with it no little disturbance and uneasiness upon the enjoyment of the most tempting pleasures; the great are too conspicuous and lie too open to every one's view.

Neither do I know to what end a man should more require of them to conceal their errors, since what is only reputed indiscretion in us, the people in them brand with the names of tyranny and contempt of the laws, and, besides their proclivity to vice, are apt to hold that it is a heightening of pleasure to them, to insult over and to trample upon public observances.

Plato, indeed, in his Goygias, defines a tyrant to be one who in a city has licence to do whatever his own will leads him to do; and by reason of this impunity, the display and publication of their vices do ofttimes more mischief than the vice itself.