And The More Pity That Great Folk

A Hundred Thousand Welcomes: I Could Weep, And I Could Laugh; I Am Light And Heavy: Welcome.

I Shall Despair. There Is No Creature Loves Me; And If I Die No Soul Will Pity Me: And Wherefore Should They, Since That I Myself Find In Myself No Pity To Myself?

Art Thou Not, Fatal Vision, Sensible To Feelings As To Sight?

Two Starving Men Cannot Be Twice As Hungry As One; But Two Rascals Can Be Ten Times As Vicious As One.

Now Let It Work. Mischief, Thou Art Afoot. Take Thou What Course Thou Wilt.