Outdid the meat, outdid the frolic wine.

He loves his bonds who, when the first are broke, Submits his neck into a second yoke.

Conquer we shall, but, we must first contend! It's not the fight that crowns us, but the end.

The first act's doubtful, but we say, it is the last commends the play.

Here a pretty Baby lies Sung asleep with Lullabies: Pray be silent, and not stirre The easie earth that covers her.

Who with a little cannot be content, endures an everlasting punishment.

Seldom comes Glory till a man be dead.