He praises who wishes to sell.

Of all complexions the culled sovereignty Do meet, as at a fair, in her fair cheek, Where several worthies make one dignity, Where nothing wants that want itself doth seek.

Thy wish was father, Harry, to that thought.

He that is proud eats up himself; pride in his glass, his trumpet, his chronicle; and whatever praises itself but in the deed, devours the deed in the praise

One good deed dying tongueless slaughters a thousand waiting upon that. Our praises are our wages.

And with faint praises one another damn.