This principle is old, but true as fate,— Kings may love treason, but the traitor hate. - Thomas Dekker

And though mine arm should conquer twenty worlds,
There ’s a lean fellow beats all conquerors.

Art thou poor, yet hast thou golden slumbers?
O sweet content!
Art thou rich, yet is thy mind perplex'd?
O punishment!

ONAELIA:You are like common beadles, apt to lash
Almost to death poor wretches not worth striking,
But fawn with slavish flattery on damned vices
So great men act them. You clap hands at those,
Where the true poet indeed doth scorn to gild
A gaudy tomb with glory of his verse,
Which coffins stinking carrion.