Despair And Die. The Ghosts

A Man Cannot Make Him Laugh; But That's No Marvel; He Drinks No Wine.... If I Had A Thousand Sons, The First Human Principle I Would Teach Them Should Be, To Forswear Thin Potations And To Addict Themselves To Sack.

Words, Words, Mere Words, No Matter From The Heart.

You Are Not Wood, You Are Not Stones, But Men; And Being Men, Hearing The Will Of Caesar, It Will Inflame You, It Will Make You Mad.

It Is A Tale Told By An Idiot, Full Of Sound And Fury; Signifying Nothing.

It Was A Lover And His Lass, With A Hey, And A Ho, And A Hey Nonino, That O'er The Green Corn-field Did Pass, In The Spring Time, The Only Pretty Ring Time, When Birds Do Sing, Hey Ding A Ding, Ding; Sweet Lovers Love The Spring.