On Pain Of Death, No Person Be

Look To Her, Moor, If Thou Has Eyes To See. She Has Deceived Her Father, And May Thee.

It May Do Good; Pride Hath No Other Glass To Show Itself But Pride, For Supple Knees Feed Arrogance And Are The Proud Man's Fees.

The Heavens Forbid But That Our Loves And Comforts Should Increase Even As Our Days Do Grow!

Time Is The Nurse And Breeder Of All Good.

Tis In Ourselves That We Are Thus, Or Thus.