What A Fool Honesty Is.

What Hands Are Here? Ha! They Pluck Out Mine Eyes! Will All Great Neptune’s Ocean Wash This Blood Clean From My Hand? No; This My Hand Will Rather The Multitudinous Seas Incarnadine, Making The Green One Red.” “my Hands Are Of Your Colour; But I Shame To Wear A Heart So White. A Little Water Clears Us Of This Deed: How Easy It Is Then! Your Constancy Hath Left You Unattended.

We Are Time's Subjects, And Time Bids Be Gone.

The Due Of Honor In No Point Omit.

Look How The World's Poor People Are Amazed At Apparitions, Signs And Prodigies!

To Persist In Doing Wrong Extenuates Not The Wrong, But Makes It Much More Heavy.