I Stand For Judgment: Answer: Shall I

No, No, I Am But Shadow Of Myself: You Are Deceived, My Substance Is Not Here.

Come, Seeling Night, Scarf Up The Tender Eye Of Pitiful Day, And With Thy Bloody And Invisible Hand Cancel And Tear To Pieces That Great Bond Which Keeps Me Pale. Light Thickens, And The Crow Makes Wing To Th' Rooky Wood. Good Things Of Day Begin To Droop And Drowse, While Night's Black Agents To Their Prey Do Rouse.

Me, Poor Man, My Library Was Dukedom Large Enough.

All Dark And Comfortless.

Travelers Never Did Lie, Though Fools At Home Condemn Them.