Listen To Many, Speak To A Few.

Where Souls Do Couch On Flowers We'll Hand In Hand.

Speak Comfortable Words.

I Have Of Late--but Wherefore I Know Not--lost All My Mirth, Forgone All Custom Of Exercise.

Nor Age So Eat Up My Invention.

I Can Counterfeit The Deep Tragedian; Speak And Look Back, And Pry On Every Side, Tremble And Start, At Wagging Of A Straw, Intending Deep Suspicion.