Thou knowest no less but all I have unclasped to thee, the book even of my secret soul.

Give me excess of it that, surfeiting, the appetite may sicken and so die.

Confine?

To faults, madonna, that drink and good counsel will a amend.

Now, from the beginning...

So you go find the gas passer, and you have him premedicate this patient.

I, Francis MacKenzie Bledsoe, being of sound mind and body,