For Some Must Watch, While Some Must

O Jest Unseen, Inscrutable, Invisible, As A Nose On A Man's Face, Or A Weathercock On A Steeple.

How Many Ages Hence Shall This Our Lofty Scene Be Acted Over In States Unborn And Accents Yet Unknown!

Well-apparel'd April On The Heel Of Limping Winter Treads.

For Conspiracy, I Know Not How It Tastes, Though It Be Dished For Me To Try How.

Lady, You Know No Rules Of Charity, Which Renders Good For Bad, Blessings For Curses.