No Evil Lost Is Wailed When It

No Man Means Evil But The Devil, And We Shall Know Him By His Horns.

You May My Glories And My State Depose, But Not My Griefes; Still Am I King Of Those.

Your Bait Of Falsehood Takes This Carp Of Truth, And Thus Do We Of Wisdom And Of Reach, With Windlasses And With Assays Of Bias, By Indirections Find Directions Out.

Having My Freedom, Boast Of Nothing Else.

I Do The Wrong, And First Begin To Brawl. The Secret Mischiefs That I Set Abroach I Lay Unto The Grievous Charge Of Others.