You Peasant Swain! You Whoreson Malt-horse Drudge!

We Must Be Gentle Now We Are Gentlemen.

Be As Just And Gracious Unto Me, As I Am Confident And Kind To Thee.

Slander Lives Upon Succession, For Ever Housed Where It Gets Possession.

Death Is My Son-in-law. Death Is My Heir. My Daughter He Hath Wedded. I Will Die, And Leave Him All. Life, Living, All Is Death’s.

I Never See Thy Face But I Think Upon Hell-fire.