To Show Our Simple Skill, That Is

My Crown Is In My Heart, Not On My Head.

Though Death Be Poor, It Ends A Mortal Woe.

For My Part, If A Lie May Do Thee Grace, I'll Gild It With The Happiest Terms I Have.

I Prithee Gentle Friend, Let Thy Fair Wisdom, Not Thy Passions, Sway In This Uncivil And Unjust Extent Against Thy Peace.

Suspicion Shall Be All Stuck Full Of Eyes.