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Shewa good man his errour and he turnes it to a vertue, but an
ill, it doubles his fault.
Shewa good man his errour and he turnes it to a vertue, but an
ill, it doubles his fault.
And thus I clothe my naked villany
With old odd ends, stol'n out of holy writ,
And read more
And thus I clothe my naked villany
With old odd ends, stol'n out of holy writ,
And seem a saint when most I play the devil.
Cover your selfe with your shield, and care not for cryes.
Cover your selfe with your shield, and care not for cryes.
Retirement without literary amusements is death itself, and a
living tomb.
Retirement without literary amusements is death itself, and a
living tomb.
What's gone, and what's past help,
Should be past grieve.
What's gone, and what's past help,
Should be past grieve.
If we cannot do what we want, we must do what we can.
If we cannot do what we want, we must do what we can.
Who paies the Physitian, does the cure.
Who paies the Physitian, does the cure.
Hath not thy rose a canker, Somerset?
Hath not thy rose a thorn, Plantagenet?
Hath not thy rose a canker, Somerset?
Hath not thy rose a thorn, Plantagenet?
