Art Made Tongue-tied By Authority.

Thou Slave, Thou Wretch, Thou Coward! Thou Little Valiant, Great In Villainy! Thou Ever Strong Upon The Stronger Side! Thou Fortune's Champion, That Dost Never Fight But Where Her Humorous Ladyship Is By To Teach Thee Safety.

We Make Ourselves Fools To Disport Ourselves And Spend Our Flatteries To Drink Those Men Upon Whose Age We Void It Up Again With Poisonous Spite And Envy.

Is This A Dagger Which I See Before Me, The Handle Toward My Hand?

The Painful Warrior Famous For Fight, After A Thousand Victories, Once Foil'd, Is From The Books Of Honor Razed Quite, And All The Rest Forgot For Which He Toil'd

You Know That Love Will Creep In Service Where It Cannot Go.