Smooth Runs The Water Where The Brook

The Robbed That Smiles, Steals Something From The Thief.

I Say, Without Characters, Fame Lives Long.

Wisdom And Fortune Combating Together, If That The Former Dare But What It Can, No Chance May Shake It.

Such An Act That Blurs The Grace And Blush Of Modesty; Calls Virtue Hypocrite; Takes Off The Rose From The Fair Forehead Of An Innocent Love, And Sets A Blister There; Makes Marriage Vows As False As Dicers' Oaths.

Ring The Alarum-bell! Blow, Wind! Come, Wrack! At Least We'll Die With Harness On Our Back.