Things Bad Begun Make Strong Themselves By

I Am Sir Oracle, And When I Ope My Lips, Let No Dog Bark.

Have You Not Love Enough To Bear With Me, When That Rash Humor Which My Mother Gave Me Makes Me Forgetful.

Indeed, Sir, He That Sleeps Feels Not The Toothache; But A Man That Were To Sleep Your Sleep, And A Hangman To Help Him To Bed, I Think He Would Change Places With His Officer; For Look You, Sir, You Know Not Which Way You Shall Go.

So May The Outward Shows Be Least Themselves; The World Is Still Deceived With Ornament.

Though Justice Be Thy Plea Consider This, That In The Course Of Justice None Of Us Should See Salvation.