I'll Say She Looks As Clear As

Gloucester: I Do Not Know That Englishman Alive With Whom My Soul Is Any Jot At Odds, More Than The Infant That Is Born To-night: I Thank My God For My Humility.

I Have Heard It Said There Is An Art Which In Their Piedness Shares With Great Creating Nature.

Dead Shepherd, Now I Find Thy Saw Of Might. Whoever Lov'd That Lov'd Not At First Sight.

Tongues I'll Hang On Every Tree That Shall Civil Sayings Show. . . .

Now Let It Work. Mischief, Thou Art Afoot. Take Thou What Course Thou Wilt.