Gently To Hear, Kindly To Judge.

What Hands Are Here? Ha! They Pluck Out Mine Eyes! Will All Great Neptune’s Ocean Wash This Blood Clean From My Hand? No; This My Hand Will Rather The Multitudinous Seas Incarnadine, Making The Green One Red.” “my Hands Are Of Your Colour; But I Shame To Wear A Heart So White. A Little Water Clears Us Of This Deed: How Easy It Is Then! Your Constancy Hath Left You Unattended.

A Very Scurvy Fellow.

I Cannot Draw A Cart, Nor Eat Dried Oats; If It Be Man's Work, I'll Do't.

No, I Will Be The Pattern Of All Patience; I Will Say Nothing.

Love Thrives Not In The Heart That Shadows Dreadeth