I Profess Not Talking: Only This, Let

O That Men's Ears Should Be To Counsel Deaf But Not To Flattery!

Therefore The Moon, The Governess Of Floods, Pale In Her Anger Washes All The Air, That Rheumatic Diseases Do Abound; And Through This Distemperature We See The Seasons Alter: Hoary-headed Frosts Fall In The Fresh Lap Of The Crimson Rose.

I'll Privily Away; I Love The People, But Do Not Like To Stage Me To Their Eyes; Though It Do Well, I Do Not Relish Well Their Loud Applause And Aves Vehement, Nor Do I Think The Man Of Safe Discretion That Does Not Affect It.

Alack, There Lies More Peril In Thine Eye Than Twenty Of Their Swords: Look Thou But Sweet, And I Am Proof Against Their Enmity.

Civil Dissension Is A Viperous Worm That Gnaws The Bowels Of The Commonwealth.