Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher

Who doubting tyranny, and fainting under
Fortune's false lottery, desperately run
To death, for dread of death; read more

Who doubting tyranny, and fainting under
Fortune's false lottery, desperately run
To death, for dread of death; that soul's most stout,
That, bearing all mischance, dares last it out.

Thou wilt scarce be a man before thy mother.

Thou wilt scarce be a man before thy mother.

Oh, woman, perfect woman! what distraction
Was meant to mankind when thou wast made a devil!
What read more

Oh, woman, perfect woman! what distraction
Was meant to mankind when thou wast made a devil!
What an inviting hell invented.

Then, my good girls, be more than women, wise:
At least be more than I was; and be sure
read more

Then, my good girls, be more than women, wise:
At least be more than I was; and be sure
You credit anything the light gives life to
Before a man.

Corruption is a tree, whose branches are
Of an immeasurable length: they spread
Ev'rywhere; and the dew read more

Corruption is a tree, whose branches are
Of an immeasurable length: they spread
Ev'rywhere; and the dew that drops from thence
Hath infected some chairs and stools of authority.