What? Do I Love Her,

Some Rise By Sin, And Some By Virtue Fall.

And Thus I Clothe My Naked Villainy With Odd Old Ends Stol'n Out Of Holy Writ; And Seem A Saint, When Most I Play The Devil.

Golden Lads And Girls All Must As Chimney Sweepers Come To Dust.

If It Be A Sin To Covet Honor, I Am The Most Offending Soul.

Every Man Has His Fault, And Honesty Is His.