Now, Good Digestion Wait On Appetite, And

She Told Her, While She Kept It, 'twould Make Her Amiable And Subdue My Father Entirely To Her Love, But If She Lost It Or Made A Gift Of It, My Father's Eye Should Hold Her Loathed And His Spirits Should Hunt After New Fancies.

For In The Fatness Of These Pursy Times Virtue Itself Of Vice Must Pardon Beg.

One Sin, I Know, Another Doth Provoke. Murder's As Near To Lust As Flame To Smoke.

When A Father Gives To His Son, Both Laugh; When A Son Gives To His Father, Both Cry.

You Saw Her Fair, None Else Being By, Herself Pois'd With Herself In Either Eye; But In That Crystal Scales Let There Be Weigh'd Your Lady's Love Against Some Other Maid That I Will Show You Shining At This Feast, And She Shall Scant Show Well That Now Seems Best.