"The glories of our blood and state, Are shadows, not substantial things; There is no armour against fate, Death lays his icy hand on kings. Scepter and crown must tumble down, And, in the dust, be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade."
"Knaves will thrive when honest plainness knows not how to live."
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Source: James Shirley (1793). “The Maid's Revenge. A Tragedy [in Five Acts, in Prose and Verse].”, p.38
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