A Man Cannot Make Him Laugh -

Men's Evil Manners Live In Brass; Their Virtues We Write In Water.

'twas Merry When You Wagered On Your Angling, When Your Diver Did Hang A Salt Fish On His Hook, Which He With Fervency Drew Up.

Of All The Flowers, Me Thinks A Rose Is Best.

Suspicion Shall Be All Stuck Full Of Eyes.

How Slow This Old Moon Wanes! She Lingers My Desires, Like To A Stepdame, Or A Dowager, Long Withering Out A Young Man's Revenue.