Virtue's Office Never Breaks Men's Troth.

The Wound Of Peace Is Surety, Surety Secure.

Youth To Itself Rebels, Though None Else Near.

I Am Not Only Witty In Myself, But The Cause That Wit Is In Other Men.

For This, Be Sure, Tonight Thou Shalt Have Cramps, Side-stitches That Shall Pen Thy Breath Up. Urchins Shall Forth At Vast Of Night That They May Work All Exercise On Thee. Thou Shalt Be Pinched As Thick As Honeycomb, Each Pinch More Stinging Than Bees That Made 'em.

Now Let It Work. Mischief, Thou Art Afoot. Take Thou What Course Thou Wilt.