The Devil Is A Gentleman.

Virtue's Office Never Breaks Men's Troth.

Let Fame, That All Hunt After In Their Lives, Live Regist'red Upon Our Brazen Tombs And Then Grace Us In The Disgrace Of Death; When, Spite Of Cormorant Devouring Time, Th' Endeavor Of This Present Breath May Buy That Honor Which Shall Bate His Scythe's Keen Edge And Make Us Heirs Of All Eternity.

Heaven Give You Many, Many Merry Days.

An Earnest Conjuration From The King, As England Was His Faithful Tributary, As Love Between Them Like The Palm Might Flourish, As Peace Should Still Her Wheaten Garland Wear And Stand A Comma 'tween Their Amities, And Many Such-like As's Of Great Charge, That, On The View And Knowing Of These Contents, Without Debatement Further, More Or Less, He Should The Bearers Put To Sudden Death, Not Shriving Time Allow'd.

Cold Indeed, And Labor Lost: Then Farewell Heat, And Welcome Frost!