Of Chastity, The Ornaments Are Chaste.

The Wound Of Peace Is Surety, Surety Secure; But Modest Doubt Is Called The Beacon Of The Wise, The Tent That Searches To Th' Bottom Of The Worst.

Opinion, A Sovereign Mistress Of Effects.

Who Are The Violets Now That Strew The Lap Of The New-come Spring?

They Lie Deadly That Tell You Have Good Faces.

We Wound Our Modesty And Make Foul The Clearness Of Our Deservings, When Of Ourselves We Publish Them.