Thou fool, I ne'er do things by halves, Farthings are made for Irish slaves; No brass for me, it must be gold, Or fifty pounds in silver told.

This film is heavy.

[…]God, or the ascent apocalypses with the prae-mortem ascent to heaven of an elect hero.

[…] as the worthy dame was parcel blind and more than parcel deaf, knowledge was excluded by two principal entrances […]