In Time The Savage Bull Doth Bear

The Weakest Kind Of Fruit Drops Earliest To The Ground.

There Is Nothing But Roguery To Be Found In Villainous Men.

This England Never Did, Nor Never Shall, Lie At The Proud Foot Of A Conqueror, But When It First Did Help To Wound Itself. Now These Her Princes Are Come Home Again, Come The Three Corners Of The World In Arms, And We Shall Shock Them. Nought Shall Make Us Rue, If England To Itself Do Rest But True.

For I Can Raise No Money By Vile Means.

But No Perfection Is So Absolute, That Some Impurity Doth Not Pollute.