Much Rain Wears The Marble.

To Beguile The Time, Look Like The Time.

But Virtue Never Will Be Mov'd, Though Lewdness Court It In A Shape Of Heaven.

Fruits That Blossom First Will First Be Ripe.

When Caesar Says, 'do This', It Is Performed.

Give Sorrow Words; The Grief That Does Not Speak Knits Up The O-er Wrought Heart And Bids It Break.