Falsehood Falsehood Cures

At Christmas I No More Desire A Rose Than Wish A Snow In May's New-fangled Mirth; But Like Of Each Thing That In Season Grows.

For In My Youth I Never Did Apply Hot And Rebellious Liquors In My Blood.

This Sleep Is Sound Indeed; This Is A Sleep That From This Golden Rigol Hath Divorc'd So Many English Kings.

How Every Fool Can Play Upon The Word!

Thou Seest I Have More Flesh Than Another Man, And Therefore More Frailty.