What Else May Hap, To Time I

Think'st Thou It Honourable For A Noble Man Still To Remember Wrongs?

Profit Is A Blessing, If It's Not Stolen.

When Death Doth Close His Tender Dying Eyes.

The Crow Doth Sing As Sweetly As The Lark When Neither Is Attended; And I Think The Nightingale, If She Should Sing By Day When Every Goose Is Cackling, Would Be Thought No Better A Musician Than The Wren. How Many Thing By Season Seasoned Are To Their Right Praise And True Perfection!

I Am A Subject, And I Challenge Law. Attorneys Are Denied Me, And Therefore Personally I Lay My Claim To My Inheritance Of Free Descent.