Tempt Not A Desperate Man

Through Tattered Clothes, Small Vices Do Appear. Robes And Furred Gowns Hide All.

You Are Yoked With A Lamb, That Carries Anger As The Flint Bears Fire; Who, Much Enforced, Shows A Hasty Spank, And Straight Is Cold Again.

I May Neither Choose Who I Would, Nor Refuse Who I Dislike; So Is The Will Of A Living Daughter Curbed By The Will Of A Dead Father.

I Have Touched The Highest Point Of All My Greatness.

Thoughts Are But Dreams Till Their Effects Are Tried.