Hasty wrath and heedless hazardy do breed repentance late and lasting infamy.
Fly from wrath; sad be the sights and bitter fruits of war; a thousand furies wait on wrathful swords.
For there is nothing lost, that may be found, if sought.
Change still doth reign, and keep the greater sway.
For since mine eyes your joyous sight did miss, my cheerful day is turned to cheerless night.
Woe to the man that first did teach the cursed steel to bite in his own flesh, and make way to the living spirit!