Therefore another prologue must tell he is not a lion

Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day And make me travel forth without my cloak, To let base clouds o'ertake me in my way, Hiding they brav'ry in their rotten smoke?

How lush and lusty the grass looks! how green!

O father Abram, what these Christians are, Whose own hard dealing teaches them suspect The thoughts of others!

The appurtenance of welcome is fashion and ceremony.

Man, proud man, drest in a little brief authority, most ignorant of what he's most assur d, glassy essence, like an angry ape, plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven, as make the angels weep.

Faster than spring-time showers comes thought on thought.