I Go, I Go, Look How I

Miracles Are Ceased; And Therefore We Must Needs Admit The Means, How Things Are Perfected.

Men That Make Envy And Crooked Malice Nourishment, Dare Bite The Best.

Speak The Speech, I Pray You, As I Pronounced It To You-trippingly On The Tongue; But If You Mouth It, As Many Of Your Players Do, I Had As Lief The Town-crier Spoke My Lines. Nor Do Not Saw The Air Too Much With Your Hand, Thus, But Use All Gently; For In The Very Torrent, Tempest, And As I May Say, The Whirlwind Of Your Passion, You Must Acquire And Beget A Temperance That May Give It Smoothness.

Be Merry; You Have Cause, So Have We All, Of Joy; For Our Escape Is Much Beyond Our Loss . . . . Then Wisely Weigh Our Sorrow With Our Comfort.

Vile Worm, Thou Wast O'erlook'd Even In Thy Birth.