Ben Jonson

Nay, if he take you in hand, sir, with an argument,
He'll bray you in a mortar.

Nay, if he take you in hand, sir, with an argument,
He'll bray you in a mortar.

The burnt child dreads the fire.

The burnt child dreads the fire.

The master of art or giver of wit,
Their belly.

The master of art or giver of wit,
Their belly.

Great honours are great burdens, but on whom
They are cast with envy, he doth bear two loads.
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Great honours are great burdens, but on whom
They are cast with envy, he doth bear two loads.
His cares must still be double to his joys,
In any dignity.

The thirst that from the soul doth rise,
Doth ask a drink divine;
But might I of read more

The thirst that from the soul doth rise,
Doth ask a drink divine;
But might I of Jove's nectar sup,
I would not change for thine.