Much Rain Wears The Marble.

Modest Wisdom Plucks Me From Over-credulous Haste.

O! Let Me Not Be Mad, Not Mad, Sweet Heaven; Keep Me In Temper; I Would Not Be Mad!

Fight To The Last Gasp.

Now The Good Gods Forbid That Our Renowned Rome, Whose Gratitude Towards Her Deserved Children Is Enrolled In Jove's Own Book, Like An Unnatural Dam Should Now Eat Up Her Own!

We Will Draw The Curtain And Show You The Picture.