I Will Praise Any Man That Will

Make The Doors Upon A Woman's Wit, And It Will Out At The Casement; Shut That, And 'twill Out At The Key-hole; Stop That, 'twill Fly With The Smoke Out At The Chimney.

Parting Is Such Sweet Sorrow

For What Good Turn? Messenger: For The Best Turn Of The Bed.

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

But Most It Is Presumption In Us When The Help Of Heaven We Count The Act Of Men.