For evil deeds may better than bad words be borne.
Fly from wrath; sad be the sights and bitter fruits of war; a thousand furies wait on wrathful swords.
Vaine is the vaunt, and victory unjust, that more to mighty hands, then rightfull cause doth trust.
The gentle minde by gentle deeds is knowne.
All that in this delightful garden grows should happy be and have immortal bliss.
Woe to the man that first did teach the cursed steel to bite in his own flesh, and make way to the living spirit!