Hot And Hasty, Like A Scotch Jig.

Truth Needs No Color; Beauty, No Pencil.

Desperate Times Breed Desperate Measures

And Gentlemen In England Now-a-bed Shall Think Themselves Accurs'd They Were Not Here, And Hold Their Manhoods Cheap Whiles Any Speaks That Fought With Us Upon Saint Crispin's Day.

Give Sorrow Words; The Grief That Does Not Speak Knits Up The O-er Wrought Heart And Bids It Break.

The Pleasing Punishment That Women Bear.