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Oh what a goodly outside falsehood hath!
Oh what a goodly outside falsehood hath!
The gentle Hawke halfe mans her selfe.
The gentle Hawke halfe mans her selfe.
Men at some time are masters of their fates.
The fault, dear Brutus, is not is our stars,
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Men at some time are masters of their fates.
The fault, dear Brutus, is not is our stars,
But in ourselves, that we are underlings.
Three helping one another, beare the burthen of sixe.
Three helping one another, beare the burthen of sixe.
The smallest worm will turn, being trodden on,
And doves will peck in safeguard of their brood.
The smallest worm will turn, being trodden on,
And doves will peck in safeguard of their brood.
Who dainties love shall beggars prove.
Who dainties love shall beggars prove.
