Within The Book And Volume Of Thy

No Might Nor Greatness In Mortality Can Censure 'scape; Back- Wounding Calumny The Whitest Virtue Strikes. What King So Strong Can Tie The Gall Up In The Slanderous Tongue?

Dost Thou Think, Because Thou Art Virtuous, There Shall Be No More Cakes And Ale?

Is It Possible That Love Should Of A Sudden Take Such A Hold?

Thus Did I Keep My Person Fresh And New, My Presence, Like A Robe Pontifical, Ne'er Seen But Wondered At, And So My State, Seldom But Sumptuous, Showed Like A Feast.

Let Me Tell You, Cassius, You Yourself Are Much Condemned To Have An Itching Palm.