To You Your Father Should Be As

And Oft, My Jealousy Shapes Faults That Are Not.

But She Makes Hungry Where She Most Satisfies.

We Go To Gain A Little Patch Of Ground That Hath In It No Profit But The Name.

Tis Gold Which Buys Admittance--oft It Doth--yea, And Makes Diana's Rangers False Themselves, Yield Up This Deer To Th' Stand O' Th' Stealer: And 'tis Gold Which Makes The True Man Kill'd And Saves The Thief, Nay, Sometimes Hangs Both Thief And True Man.

If I Be Waspish, Best Beware My Sting.