To Business That We Love We Rise

O How Wretched Is That Poor Man That Hangs On Princes Favors! There Is Betwixt That Smile We Would Aspire To, That Sweet Aspect Of Princes, And Their Ruin, More Pangs And Fears Than Wars Or Women Have, And When He Falls, He Falls Like Lucifer, Never To Hope Again.

What's To Come Is Still Unsure: In Delay There Lies No Plenty; Then Come Kiss Me, Sweet And Twenty, Youth's A Stuff Will Not Endure.

You Blocks, You Stones, You Worse Than Senseless Things!

In Thy Face I See The Map Of Honour, Truth And Loyalty.

There Is None But He Whose Being I Do Fear; And Under Him My Genius Is Rebuked, As It Is Said Mark Antony's Was By Caesar.