O good old man, how well in thee appears The constant service of the antique world, When service sweat for duty, not for meed! Thou art not for the fashion of these times, Where none will sweat but for promotion, And having that do choke their service up Even with the having. . . .

You have witchcraft in your lips, there is more eloquence in a sugar touch of them than in the tongues of the French council; and they should sooner persuade Harry of England than a general petition of monarchs.

That which hath made them drunk hath made me bold; What hath quenched them hath given me fire.

Many that are not mad have, sure, more lack of reason.

Ideas are the very coinage of your brain.

Virtuous and fair, royal and gracious.

For so work the honey bees, creatures that by a rule in nature teach the act of order to a peopled kingdom.