Be Not Afeard; The Isle Is Full

Et Tu Brute! (you Too, Brutus!)

Silence Is Only Commendable In A Neat's Tongue Dried, And A Maid Not Vendible.

One Sees More Devils Than Vast Hell Can Hold

For Grief Is Crowned With Consolation.

I Humbly Do Beseech Of Your Pardon, For Too Much Loving You