Truly Thou Art Damned, Like

Well, While I Live I'll Fear No Other Thing So Sore As Keeping Safe Nerissa's Ring.

Will Fortune Never Come With Both Hands Full, But Write Her Fair Words Still In Foulest Terms?

The Bay-trees In Our Country Are All Withered, And Meteors Fright The Fixèd Stars Of Heaven. The Pale-faced Moon Looks Bloody On The Earth, And Lean-looked Prophets Whisper Fearful Change. Rich Men Look Sad, And Ruffians Dance And Leap; The One In Fear To Lose What They Enjoy, The Other To Enjoy By Rage And War. These Signs Forerun The Death Or Fall Of Kings.

Say, What Abridgement Have You For This Evening? What Masque, What Music? How Shall We Beguile The Lazy Time If Not With Some Delight?

Thy Wit Is A Very Bitter Sweeting; It Is A Most Sharp Sauce.