In Jest, There Is Truth.

In Right And Service To Their Noble Country.

To Whom God Will, There Be The Victory.

Use Every Man After His Desert, And Who Should Scape Whipping?

Now I Am Past All Comforts Here, But Prayer.

I Am Not Yet Of Percy's Mind, The Hotspur Of The North; He That Kills Me Some Six Or Seven Dozen Of Scots As A Breakfast, Washes His Hands, And Says To His Wife, 'fie Upon This Quiet Life! I Want Work.