The Words Of Mercury Are Harsh After

I Was Not Born Under A Rhyming Planet, Nor I Cannot Woo To In Festival Terms.

The Fringed Curtains Of Thine Eye Advance, And Say What Thou Seest Yond.

He Kills Her In Her Own Humor.

The Worm Is Not To Be Trusted.

My Conscience Hath A Thousand Several Tongues, And Every Tongue Brings In A Several Tale, And Every Tale Condemns Me For A Villain. Perjury, Perjury, In The High'st Degree; Murder, Stern Murder In The Dir'st Degree, Throng To The Bar, Crying All, 'guilty!, Guilty!