To Stand Against The Deep Dread-bolted Thunder,

Cry Havoc And Let Slip The Dogs Of War!

Pray, Do Not Mock Me. I Am A Very Foolish Fond Old Man, Fourscore And Upward, Not An Hour More Nor Less; And, To Deal Plainly, I Fear I Am Not In My Perfect Mind.

Thanks, Sir; All The Rest Is Mute.

When Remedies Are Past, The Griefs Are Ended By Seeing The Worst, Which Late On Hopes Depended.

The Sun With One Eye Vieweth All The World.