You Take My Life When You Do

To Wilful Men, The Injuries That They Themselves Procure Must Be Their Schoolmasters.

Our Fancies Are More Giddy And Unfirm, More Longing, Wavering, Sooner Lost And Won, Than Women's Are.

Discharge My Followers; Let Them Hence Away, From Richard's Night To Bolingbrooke's Fair Day.

Call Me What Instrument You Will, Though You Can Fret Me, You Cannot Play Upon Me.

Well, Whiles I Am A Beggar, I Will Rail, And Say There Is No Sin But To Be Rich; And Being Rich, My Virtue Then Shall Be To Say There Is No Vice But Beggary