The Force Of His Own

This Is Some Fellow, Who Having Been Prais'd For Bluntness, Doth Affect A Saucy Roughness And Constrains The Garb Quite From His Nature: He Can't Flatter, He! An Honest Mind And Plain,--he Must Speak Truth! And They Will Take It So; If Not He's Plain. These Kind Of Knaves I Know, Which In This Plainness Harbor More Craft, And Far Corrupter Ends, Than Twenty Silly, Ducking Observants, That Stretch Their Duty Nicely.

Now Join Your Hands, And With Your Hands Your Hearts.

Why, What's The Matter, That You Have Such A February Face, So Full Of Frost, Of Storm And Cloudiness?

The Object Of Art Is To Give Life A Shape.

Here Is A Rural Fellow That Will Not Be Denied Your Highness' Presence: He Brings You Figs.