While Thou Livest Keep A Good Tongue

And Oftentimes, To Win Us To Our Harm, The Instruments Of Darkness Tell Us Truths, Win Us With Honest Trifles, To Betray's In Deepest Consequence

Every Man Has His Fault, And Honesty Is His.

Tis Much When Sceptres Are In Children's Hands, But More When Envy Breeds Unkind Division: There Comes The Ruin, There Begins Confusion.

O Helena, Goddess, Nymph, Perfect, Divine! To What, My Love, Shall I Compare Thine Eyne? Crystal Is Muddy. O, How Ripe In Show Thy Lips, Those Kissing Cherries, Tempting Grow!

Affliction Is Enamoured Of Thy Parts, And Thou Art Wedded To Calamity.