Sir, You Shall Taste My Anno Domini.

Like Hungry Guests, A Sitting Audience Looks / Plays Are Like Suppers; Poets Are The Cooks / The Founder's You; The Table Is This Place / The Carvers We; The Prologue Is The Grace / Each Act A Course, Each Scene, A Different Dish.

Courage, The Highest Gift, That Scorns To Bend To Mean Devices For A Sordid End. Courage--an Independent Spark From Heaven's Bright Throne, By Which The Soul Stands Raised, Triumphant High, Alone. Great In Itself, Not Praises Of The Crowd, Above All Vice, It Stoops Not To Be Proud. Courage, The Mighty Attribute Of Powers Above, By Which Those Great In War, Are Great In Love. The Spring Of All Brave Acts Is Seated Here, As Falsehoods Draw Their Sordid Birth From Fear.

How A Little Love And Good Company Improves A Woman.

A Good Husband Makes A Good Wife At Any Time.

Aimwell: Then You Understand Latin, Mr. Bonniface? Bonniface: Not I, Sir, As The Saying Is, But He Talks It So Very Fast That I'm Sure It Must Be Good.