Alas, How Love Can Trifle

Thanks, Sir; All The Rest Is Mute.

Words Are Easy, Like The Wind; Faithful Friends Are Hard To Find.

Good Morrow, Fair Ones; Pray You, If You Know, Where In The Purlieus Of This Forest Stands A Sheep-cote Fenc'd About With Olive Trees?

The Devil Shall Have His Bargain; For He Was Never Yet A Breaker Of Proverbs--he Will Give The Devil His Due.

The Eagle Suffers Little Birds To Sing.