Which Can Say More Than This Rich

Have You Not A Moist Eye, A Dry Hand, A Yellow Cheek, A White Beard, A Decreasing Leg, An Increasing Belly? Is Not Your Voice Broken, Your Wind Short, Your Chin Double, Your Wit Single, And Every Part About You Blasted With Antiquity?

A Substitute Shines Brightly As A King Until A King Be By, And Then His State Empties Itself, As Dot An Inland Brook Into The Main Of Waters.

O Villains, Vipers, Dogs, Easily Won To Fawn On Any Man!

I Feel Within Me A Peace Above All Earthly Dignities, A Still And Quiet Conscience.

We Cannot All Be Masters.