What A Deformed Thief This Fashion Is.

Who Alone Suffers Suffers Most I' Th' Mind, Leaving Free Things And Happy Shows Behind; But Then The Mind Much Sufferance Doth O'erskip When Grief Hath Mates, And Bearing Fellowship.

It Is A Wise Father That Knows His Own Child.

The Gloomy Shade Of Death.

But As The Unthought-on Accident Is Guilty To What We Wildly Do, So We Profess Ourselves To Be The Slaves Of Chance, And Flies Of Every Wind That Blows.

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