Tell men of high condition, That manage the estate, Their purpose is ambition, Their practise only hate, And if they once reply Then give them all the lie.
Tell them that brave it most, They beg for more by spending Who in their greatest cost Seek nothing but commending. And if they once reply Then give them all the lie.
Tell zeale it wants devotion Tell love it is but lust, Tell time it meets but motion, Tell flesh it is but dust. And wish them not reply For thou must give the lie.
Tell age it daily wasteth, Tell honor how it alters. Tell beauty how she blasteth Tell favour how it falters And as they shall reply, Give every one the lie.
[He goes on. You get the idea.]
So when thou hast as I Commanded thee, done blabbing, Although to give the lie, Deserves no less than stabbing, Stab at thee, he that will, No stab thy soule can kill.
[There's a bit more about a grave, but that ruins my joke, so I'll leave it.] -- Sir Walter Raleigh