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But Since The Affairs Of Men Rests Still Incertain, Let's Reason With The Worst That May Befall.

He Makes A July's Day Short As December.

He That Loves To Be Flattered Is Worthy O' The Flatterer.

Nothing 'gainst Times Scythe Can Make Defence.

Canst Thou, O Partial Sleep, Give Thy Repose To The Wet Sea-boy In An Hour So Rude, And In The Calmest And Most Stillest Night, With All Appliances And Means To Boot, Deny It To A King?