Season Your Admiration For A While.

O Comfort-killing Night, Image Of Hell, Dim Register And Notary Of Shame, Black Stage For Tragedies And Murders Fell, Vast Sin-concealing Chaos, Nurse Of Blame!

Think'st Thou It Honourable For A Noble Man Still To Remember Wrongs?

That If You Be Honest And Fair, Your Honesty Should Admit No Discourse To Your Beauty.

Now The Melancholy God Protect Thee, And The Tailor Make Thy Garments Of Changeable Taffeta, For Thy Mind Is Opal.

Were't Not For Laughing, I Should Pity Him.