Sin Will Pluck On Sin.

O, Here Will I Set Up My Everlasting Rest And Shake The Yoke Of Inauspicious Stars From The World-wearied Flesh

Gloucester, We Have Done Deeds Of Charity, Made Peace Of Enmity, Fair Love Of Hate, Between These Swelling Wrong-incensed Peers.

Now See That Noble And Most Sovereign Reason, Like Sweet Bells Jangled, Out Of Tune And Harsh.

Thou Mak'st Me Merry: I Am Full Of Pleasure; Let Us Be Jocund

O, While You Live, Tell Truth, And Shame The Devil!