O God Of Battles! Steel My Soldiers’

Come, Swear It, Damn Thyself, Lest, Being Like One Of Heaven, The Devils Themselves Should Fear To Seize Thee; Therefore Be Double-damned, Swear,--thou Art Honest.

Away, You Cut-purse Rascal! You Filthy Bung, Away! By This Wine, I'll Thrust My Knife In Your Mouldy Chaps, An You Play The Saucy Cuttle With Me. Away, You Bottle-ale Rascal! You Basket-hilt Stale Juggler, You!

The Nature Of Bad News Affects The Teller.

This Music Crept By Me Upon The Waters, Allaying Both Their Fury And My Passion With Its Sweet Air: Thence I Have Follow’d It.

But O, How Bitter A Thing It Is To Look Into Happiness Through Another Man's Eyes.