Plutus Himself, That Knows The Tinct And

What Can Be Avoided Whose End Is Purposed By The Mighty Gods?

And To Be Merry Best Becomes You; For, Out Of Question, You Were Born In A Merry Hour. Beatrice No, Sure, My Lord, My Mother Cried; But Then There Was A Star Danced, And Under That Was I Born.

He That Is Giddy Thinks The World Turns Round.

Conceal Me What I Am, And Be My Aid For Such Disguise As Haply Shall Become The Form Of My Intent.

Men's Vows Are Women's Traitors