Haste Is Needful In A Desperate Case.

Truth Hath A Quiet Breast.

The Native Hue Of Resolution Is Sicklied O'er With The Pale Cast Of Thought; And Enterprises Of Great Pitch And Moment, With This Regard, Their Currents Turn Awry, And Lose The Name Of Action.

I Would Not Lose So Great An Honor As One Man More Methinks Would Share With Me For The Best Hope I Have.

Awake, Dear Heart, Awake. Thou Hast Slept Well. Awake.

Forbear To Judge, For We Are Sinners All.