Now Would I Give A Thousand Furlongs

From Women's Eyes This Doctrine I Derive: They Sparkle Still The Right Promethean Fire; They Are The Books, The Arts, The Academes, That Show, Contain And Nourish All The World.

You Have Too Much Respect Upon The World; They Lose It That Do Buy It With Much Care

As A Decrepit Father Takes Delight To See His Active Child Do Deeds Of Youth, So I, Made Lame By Fortune's Dearest Spite, Take All My Comfort Of Thy Worth And Truth.

Do You Bite Your Thumb At Us, Sir?

Covering Discretion With A Coat Of Folly.