And let a scholar all earth's volumes carry, he will be but a walking dictionary: a mere articulate clock.

Make ducks and drakes with shillings.

I pray, what flowers are these? The pansy this, O, that's for lover's thoughts.

Flatterers look like friends, as wolves like dogs.

Tis immortality to die aspiring, As if a man were taken quick to heaven.

Perfect happiness, by princes sought, Is not with birth born, nor exchequers bought.

An ill weed grows apace.