Soft Pity Enters An Iron Gate.

Let Gentleness My Strong Enforcement Be.

And Oftentimes, To Win Us To Our Harm, The Instruments Of Darkness Tell Us Truths, Win Us With Honest Trifles, To Betray's In Deepest Consequence

My Salad Days, When I Was Green In Judgment.

A Substitute Shines Brightly As A King Until A King Be By, And Then His State Empties Itself, As Dot An Inland Brook Into The Main Of Waters.

And Nothing Is, But What Is Not.