But Thought's The Slave Of

They Were Devils Incarnate.

I'll Take Thy Word For Faith, Not Ask Thine Oath; Who Shuns Not To Break One Will Sure Crack Both.

That Is Honor's Scorn Which Challenges Itself As Honor's Born And Is Not Like The Sire. Honors Thrive When Rather From Our Acts We Them Derive Than Our Foregoers.

Fight, Gentlemen Of England! Fight, Bold Yeomen! Draw, Archers, Draw Your Arrows To The Head! Spur Your Proud Horses Hard, And Ride In Blood; Amaze The Welkin With Your Broken Staves!

O! That A Man Might Know The End Of This Day's Business, Ere It Come; But It Sufficeth That The Day Will End, And Then The End Is Known.