i heard about your son. i'm sorry.
 two-hundred-sixty-six brown bess muskets, forty-one casks of powder, balls, tamping.
my heavens, personal correspondence of.  lord cornwallis.
thank you.
for trying to impose some decency on that sort.
dearly beloved, we are gathered here in the sight of god to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony.
for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, 'til death do they part.
it's not time for vengeance, it's time to mourn and.
about a hundred and twenty. less than a third.
may i help you try to find solace with the word of god?
colonel, let us help his soul find it's place with the almighty and.
yes, he does.