Too Much To Know Is

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.

Say, What Abridgement Have You For This Evening? What Masque, What Music? How Shall We Beguile The Lazy Time If Not With Some Delight?

You Have Dancing Shoes With Nimble Soles. I Have A Soul Of Lead.

The Pow'r That I Have On You Is To Spare You; The Malice Towards You To Forgive You.

I Love Him For His Sake; And Yet I Know Him A Notorious Liar, Think Him A Great Way Fool, Solely A Coward; Yet These Fix'd Evils Sit So Fit In Him That They Take Place When Virtue's Steely Bones Looks Bleak I' Th' Cold Wind; Withal, Full Oft We See Cold Wisdom Waiting On Superfluous Folly.