To Saucy Doubts And Fears.

To Say The Truth, So Judas Kissed His Master And Cried, 'all Hail!' When As He Meant All Harm.

Something Is Rotten In The State Of Denmark.

The Wound Of Peace Is Surety, Surety Secure.

The Teeming Autumn Big With Rich Increase, Bearing The Wanton Burden Of The Prime Like Widowed Wombs After Their Lords Decease.

The Cunning Livery Of Hell.