Ross You Must Have Patience, Madam. Lady

Reason Thus With Life: If I Do Lose Thee, I Do Lose A Thing That None But Fools Would Keep.

Even So; An't Please Your Worship, Brakenbury, You May Partake Of Any Thing We Say: We Speak No Treason, Man; We Say The King Is Wise And Virtuous, And His Noble Queen Well Struck In Years, Fair, And Not Jealous; We Say That Shore's Wife Hath A Pretty Foot, A Cherry Lip, A Bonny Eye, A Passing Pleasing Tongue; And That The Queen's Kindred Are Made Gentlefolks.

Let Me Say Amen Betimes Lest The Devil Cross My Prayer, For Here He Comes In The Likeness Of A Jew.

Love's Gentle Spring Doth Always Fresh Remain.

Your Worm Is Your Only Emperor For Diet; We Fat All Creatures Else To Fat Us, And We Fat Ourselves For Maggots.