Fair Youth, I Would I Could Make

The Lady Doth Protest Too Much, Methinks.

Fair Thoughts And Happy Hours Attend On You.

Honour Travels In A Strait So Narrow Where One But Goes Abreast.

For In The Fatness Of These Pursy Times Virtue Itself Of Vice Must Pardon Beg.

But Yet, I Say, If Imputation And Strong Circumstances, Which Lead Directly To The Door Of Truth, Will Give You Satisfaction, You May Have It.