False Face Must Hide What The False

God Has Given You One Face, And You Make Yourself Another.

Tremble, Thou Wretch, That Hast Within Thee Undivulged Crimes Unwhipped Of Justice.

That Affable Familiar Ghost Which Nightly Gulls Him With Intelligence.

Arise, Fair Sun, And Kill The Envious Moon, Who Is Already Sick And Pale With Grief That Thou, Her Maid, Art Far More Fair Than She. . . .

Of All Complexions The Culled Sovereignty Do Meet, As At A Fair, In Her Fair Cheek, Where Several Worthies Make One Dignity, Where Nothing Wants That Want Itself Doth Seek.