Live And Die In Aristotle's Works.

Confess And Be Hanged.

My Men Like Satyrs Grazing On The Lawns, / Shall With Their Goat-feet Dance An Antic Hay.

Cut Is The Branch That Might Have Grown Full Straight, And Burned Is Apollo's Laurel Bough, That Sometime Grew Within This Learned Man. Faustus Is Gone.

All Live To Die, And Rise To Fall.

All Places Shall Be Hell That Are Not Heaven.