We have a pretty witty king, Whose word no man relies on; He never said a foolish thing, Nor ever did a wise one. - John Wilmot, 2nd Earl of Rochester

But a meek humble Man of modest Sense, Who, Preaching Peace, does practice Continence; Whose pious life's a proof he does believe, Mysterious Truths, which no Man can conceive. If upon Earth there dwell such God-like Men, I'll here Recant my Paradox to them; Adore those Shrines of Virtue, homage pay, And, with the rabble world, their Laws obey. If such there are, yet grant me This at least, Man differs more from Man, than Man from Beast.

Here lies our sovereign lord the king, Whose word no man relies on; He never says a foolish thing, Nor ever does a wise one.

Then talk not of Inconstancy, False Hearts, and broken Vows; If I, by Miracle, can be This live-long Minute true to thee, 'Tis all that Heav'n allows.