Lord, What Fools These Mortals

Let Not Our Babbling Dreams Affright Our Souls; Conscience Is But A Work That Cowards Use, Devised At First To Keep The Strong In Awe: Our Strong Arms Be Our Conscience, Swords Our Law!

I Think The King Is But A Man As I Am: The Violet Smells To Him As It Doth To Me.

The Gallantry Of His Grief Did Put Me Into A Towering Passion.

Educated Men Are So Impressive.

I Told You, Sir, They Were Red-hot With Drinking; So Full Of Valor That They Smote The Air, For Breathing In Their Faces, Beat The Ground For Kissing Of Their Feet.