What Else May Hap, To Time I

Do Not, As Some Ungracious Pastors Do, Show Me The Steep And Thorny Way To Heaven; Whilst, Like A Puff'd And Reckless Libertine, Himself The Primrose Path Of Dalliance Treads And Recks Not His Own Read.

Words Pay No Debts, Give Her Deeds.

Conceal Me What I Am, And Be My Aid For Such Disguise As Haply Shall Become The Form Of My Intent.

Be Just, And Fear Not.

I Had Rather Chop This Hand Off At A Blow, And With The Other Fling It At Thy Face.