Venus Smiles Not In A House Of

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.

Ay; Beauty's Princely Majesty Is Such, Confounds The Tongue And Makes The Senses Rough.

We Make Ourselves Fools To Disport Ourselves And Spend Our Flatteries To Drink Those Men Upon Whose Age We Void It Up Again With Poisonous Spite And Envy.

Death, Not Romeo, Take My Maidenhead!

Oh What Fools We Mortals Are.