O Madam, My Old Heart Is Cracked,

Never Anything Can Be Amiss, When Simpleness And Duty Tender It.

Tears Harden Lust, Though Marble Wear With Raining.

This Royal Throne Of Kings, This Scepter'd Isle, This Earth Of Majesty, This Seat Of Mars, This Other Eden, Demi-paradise.

I Told You, Sir, They Were Red-hot With Drinking; So Full Of Valor That They Smote The Air, For Breathing In Their Faces, Beat The Ground For Kissing Of Their Feet.

Conscience Is A Thousand Swords.