Best Men Oft Are Moulded Out Of

Thou Art A Soul In Bliss; But I Am Bound Upon A Wheel Of Fire; That Mine Own Tears Do Scald Like Molten Lead.

He's Loved Of The Distracted Multitude, Who Like Not In Their Judgement, But Their Eyes.

Because I Cannot Flatter And Look Fair, Smile In Men's Faces, Smooth, Deceive, And Cog, Duck With French Nods And Apish Courtesy, I Must Be Held A Rancorous Enemy.

Jesters Do Oft Prove Prophets.

An Angel; Or, If Not, An Earthly Paragon.