Glory is like a circle in the water
What drink'st thou oft, instead of homage sweet, But poisoned flattery?
To hold, as 't were, the mirror up to nature.
Wise men ne'er sit and wail their woes, but presently prevent the ways to wail.
Base men being in love have then a nobility in their natures more than is native to them.
Sweets grown common lose their dear delight.