Mean And Mighty, Rotting Together, Have One

For Thou Hast Given Me In This Beauteous Face A World Of Earthly Blessings To My Soul, If Sympathy Of Love Unite Our Thoughts.

My Liege, And Madam, To Expostulate What Majesty Should Be, What Duty Is, Why Day Is Day, Night Night, And Time Is Time, Were Nothing But To Waste Night, Day And Time. Therefore, Since Brevity Is The Soul Of Wit, And Tediousness The Limbs And Outward Flourishes, I Will Be Brief.

Tis The Eye Of Childhood That Fears A Painted Devil.

No Longer Mourn For Me When I Am Dead Than You Shall Hear The Surly Sullen Bell Give Warning To The World That I Am Fled From This Vile World, With Vilest Worms To Dwell.

A Little Water Clears Us Of This Deed.