In Priscum. Xxxi

When Priscus, rais'd from low to high estate,
Rode through the street in pompous jollity,
Caius, his poor familiar friend of late,
Bespake him thus, "Sir, now you know not me,"
"'Tis likely, friend," quoth Priscus, "to be so,
For at this time myself I do not know."