While Thou Livest Keep A Good Tongue

Wolves And Bears, They Say, Casting Their Savagery Aside, Have Done Like Offices Of Pity.

Fair Ladies, Masked, Are Roses In Their Bud; Dismasked, The Damask Sweet Commixture Shown, Are Angels Vailing Clouds, Or Roses Blown.

Suspicion Always Haunts The Guilty Mind.

Covering Discretion With A Coat Of Folly.

Me, Poor Man, My Library Was Dukedom Large Enough.