Though She Be But Little, She Is

O Judgment ! Thou Art Fled To Brutish Beasts, And Men Have Lost Their Reason !

As Good Luck Would Have It.

The Weariest And Most Loathed Worldly Life, That Age, Ache, Penury And Imprisonment Can Lay On Nature Is A Paradise, To What We Fear Of Death.

How Many Fond Fools Serve Mad Jealousy!

Lord, Lord, How Subject We Old Men Are To This Vice Of Lying!