They, Who Know No Evil, Will Suspect

Still To Be Neat, Still To Be Drest, As You Were Going To A Feast, Still To Be Powder'd, All Perfum'd. Lady, It Is To Be Presumed, Though Art's Hid Causes Are Not Found, All Is Not Sweet, All Is Not Sound.

Soul Of The Age! The Applause, Delight, The Wonder Of Our Stage! My Shakespeare , Rise; I Will Not Lodge Thee By Chaucer Or Spenser , Or Bid Beaumont Lie A Little Further, To Make Thee A Room; Thou Art A Monument, Without A Tomb, And Art Alive Still, While Thy Book Doth Live, And We Have Wits To Read , And Praise To Give .

Calumnies Are Answered Best With Silence.

To Speak And To Speak Well Are Two Things. A Fool May Talk, But A Wise Man Speaks.

We Are Persons Of Quality, I Assure You, And Women Of Fashion, And Come To See And To Be Seen.