The Words Of Mercury Are

My Brain More Busy Than The Labouring Spider Weaves Tedious Snares To Trap Mine Enemies.

Spirits Are Not Finely Touched But To Fine Issues, Nor Nature Never Lends The Smallest Scruple Of Her Excellence But Like A Thrifty Goddess She Determines Herself The Glory Of A Creditor,both Thanks And Use.

For Naught So Vile That On The Earth Doth Live But To The Earth Some Special Good Doth Give.

By That Sin Fell The Angels.

Every Subject's Duty Is The Kings, But Every Subject's Soul Is His Own.