In Thy Youth Wast As True A

Death Where Is Thy Sting? Love, Where Is Thy Glory?

It Is A Basilisk Unto Mine Eye, Kills Me To Look On't.

He Is Deformed, Crooked, Old And Sere, Ill-faced, Worse Bodied, Shapeless Everywhere; Vicious, Ungentle, Foolish, Blunt, Unkind; Stigmatical In Making, Worse In Mind.

Away, You Mouldy Rogue, Away!

I See, Sir, You Are Liberal In Offers. You Taught Me First To Beg, And Now Methinks You Teach Me How A Beggar Should Be Answered.