I Am A Foe To Tyrants, And

The Seeming Truth Which Cunning Times Put On To Entrap The Wisest.

Aand In The End, Having My Freedom, Boast Of Nothing Else But That I Was A Journeyman To Grief?

Out Of My Sight! Thou Dost Infect Mine Eyes.

He That Filches From Me My Good Name Robs Me Of That Which Enriches Him And Makes Me Poor Indeed.

Things Won Are Done, Joy's Soul Lies In The Doing.