Ay, Is It Not A Language I

Would It Not Grieve A Woman To Be Over-mastered By A Piece Of Valiant Dust? To Make An Account Of Her Life To A Clod Of Wayward Marle?

I Am As True As Truth's Simplicity, And Simpler Than The Infancy Of Truth.

Weariness Can Snore Upon The Flint When Resting Sloth Finds The Down Pillow Hard.

This We Prescribe, Though No Physician; Deep Malice Makes Too Deep Incision; Forget, Forgive; Conclude And Be Agreed; Our Doctors Say This Is No Month To Bleed.

There's Villainous News Abroad.