Let me embrace thee, sour adversity, for wise men say it is the wisest course.
My love to thee is sound, sans crack or flaw.
Slanders, sir, for the satirical rogue says here that old men have grey beards, that their faces are wrinkled, their eyes purging think amber and plum-tree gum, and that they have a plentiful lack of wit, together with most weak hams.
The purest treasure mortal times can afford is a spotless reputation.
Better a witty fool than a foolish wit.
In brief, sir, study what you most affect.