Few men have virtue to withstand the highest bidder.

Few men have virtue to withstand the highest bidder.

What, shall one of us,
That struck for the foremost man of all this world
But for read more

What, shall one of us,
That struck for the foremost man of all this world
But for supporting robbers--shall we now
Contaminate our fingers with base bribes,
And sell the mighty space of our large honors
For so much trash as may be grasped thus?

No mortal thing can bear so high a price,
But that with mortal thing it may be bought.

No mortal thing can bear so high a price,
But that with mortal thing it may be bought.

'Tis gold
Which buys admittance--oft it doth--yea, and makes
Diana's rangers false themselves, yield up
read more

'Tis gold
Which buys admittance--oft it doth--yea, and makes
Diana's rangers false themselves, yield up
This deer to th' stand o' th' stealer: and 'tis gold
Which makes the true man kill'd and saves the thief,
Nay, sometimes hangs both thief and true man.

There is thy gold--worse poison to men's souls,
Doing more murder in this loathsome world,
Than these read more

There is thy gold--worse poison to men's souls,
Doing more murder in this loathsome world,
Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell.
I sell thee poison; thou hast sold me none
Farewell. Buy food and get thyself in flesh.

Every man has his price.

Every man has his price.

By gold all good faith has been banished; by gold our rights are
abused; the law itself is influenced read more

By gold all good faith has been banished; by gold our rights are
abused; the law itself is influenced by gold, and soon there will
be an end of every modest restraint.
[Lat., Auro pulsa fides. auro venalia jura,
Aurum lex sequitur, mox sine lege pudor.]

But here more slow, where all are slaves to gold,
Where looks are merchandise, and smiles are sold.

But here more slow, where all are slaves to gold,
Where looks are merchandise, and smiles are sold.

And ye sall walk in silk attire,
And siller hae to spare,
Gin ye'll consent to be read more

And ye sall walk in silk attire,
And siller hae to spare,
Gin ye'll consent to be his bride,
Nor think o'Donald mair.