His life was gentle; and the elements So mixed in him, that Nature might stand up And say to all the world, THIS WAS A MAN!

Who knows himself a braggart, Let him fear this; for it will come to pass That every braggart will be found an ass.

Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale?

There is not one wise man in twenty that will praise himself.

Hide not thy poison with such sugar'd words

Now my charms are all o'erthrown.

Whose heart the accustom'd sight of death makes hard.