Beware of the fury of the patient man.
All empire is no more than power in trust.
The perverseness of my fate is such that he's not mine because he's mine too much.
So the false spider, when her nets are spread, deep ambushed in her silent den does lie.
You see through love, and that deludes your sight, As what is straight seems crooked through the water.
Riches cannot rescue from the grave, which claims alike the monarch and the slave.