I Say, Without Characters, Fame

Where The Greater Malady Is Fixed, The Lesser Is Scarce Felt.

My Purpose Is, Indeed, A Horse Of That Color.

Virtue That Transgresses Is But Patched With Sin; And Sin That Amends Is But Patched With Virtue.

Enough No More; Tis Not So Sweet Now As It Was Before.

Think'st Thou I'd Make A Life Of Jealousy, To Follow Still The Changes Of The Moon With Fresh Suspicions? No; To Be Once In Doubt Is Once To Be Resolved.