The First Act's Doubtful, But We Say,

Let My Muse Fail Of Thy Former Helps, And Only Use Her Inadulterate Strength. What's Done By Me Hereafter Shall Smell Of The Lamp, Not Thee.

Next, When I Cast Mine Eyes And See That Brave Vibration Each Way Free, O How That Glittering Taketh Me!

Give Me A Kiss, And To That Kiss A Score: Then To That Twenty, Add A Hundred More.

Tears Are The Noble Language Of Eyes, And When True Love Of Words Is Destitute. The Eye By Tears Speak, While The Tongue Is Mute.

Twixt Kings And Tyrants There's This Difference Known; Kings Seek Their Subjects' Good: Tyrants Their Own.