My Joy Is Death- Death, At Whose

Sweet Mercy Is Nobility's True Badge.

Let Not Our Babbling Dreams Affright Our Souls; Conscience Is But A Work That Cowards Use, Devised At First To Keep The Strong In Awe: Our Strong Arms Be Our Conscience, Swords Our Law!

I Will Not Be Sworn But Love May Transform Me To An Oyster

Will Fortune Never Come With Both Hands Full, But Write Her Fair Words Still In Foulest Terms?

Look Like The Innocent Flower, But Be The Serpent Under It.