A Beggar's Book Outworths A Noble's Blood.

Did He So Often Lodge In Open Field, In Winter's Cold And Summer's Parching Heat, To Conquer France, His True Inheritance?

O, She's Warm! If This Be Magic, Let It Be An Art Lawful As Eating.

Truth Hath A Quiet Breast.

Time Travels In Divers Paces With Divers Persons. I'll Tell You Who Time Ambles Withal, Who Time Trots Withal, Who Time Gallops Withal, And Who He Stands Still Withal.

Now Is The Winter Of Our Discontent.