Crack'd In Pieces By Malignant Death.

Pardon, Gentles All, The Flat Unraised Spirits That Have Dared On This Unworthy Scaffold To Bring Forth So Great An Object.

As Good Luck Would Have It, Comes In One Mistress Page, Gives Intelligence Of Ford's Approach, And In Her Invention, And Ford's Wife's Distraction, They Conveyed Me Into A Buck-basket.

So Fair And Foul A Day I Had Not Seen.

Love's Not Time's Fool, Though Rosy Lips And Cheeks Within His Bending Sickle's Compass Come.

Rumour: "upon My Tongues Continual Slanders Ride, The Which In Every Language I Pronounce, Stuffing The Ears Of Men With False Reports.