The Poorest Service Is Repaid With Thanks.

And When Love Speaks, The Voice Of All The Gods Makes Heaven Drowsy With The Harmony.

We Must Take The Current When It Serves, Or Lose Our Ventures.

How Every Fool Can Play Upon The Word!

Hamlet: Is This A Prologue, Or The Posy Of A Ring? Ophelia: 'tis Brief, My Lord. Hamlet: As Woman's Love.

For He Was Likely, Had He Been Put On, To Have Proved Most Royally.