Of One That Lov'd Not Wisely But

We Will Draw The Curtain And Show You The Picture.

He Uses His Folly Like A Stalking-horse, And Under The Presentation Of That He Shoots His Wit.

As Many Arrows, Loosed Several Ways, Come To One Mark...so Many A Thousand Actions, Once Afoot, End In One Purpose.

You Must Not Think That We Are Made Of Stuff So Fat And Dull That We Can Let Our Beard Be Shook With Danger And Think It Pastime.

When He Shall Die, Take Him And Cut Him Out In Little Stars, And He Will Make The Face Of Heaven So Fine That All The World Will Be In Love With Night And Pay No Worship To The Garish Sun.