It Is A Basilisk Unto Mine Eye,

She Is A Woman, Therefore To Be Won.

A Man Loves The Meat In His Youth That He Cannot Endure In His Age.

How Oft The Sight Of Means To Do Ill Deeds Makes Ill Deeds Done!

There Is A History In All Men's Lives, Figuring The Nature Of The Times Deceased, The Which Observed, A Man May Prophesy, With A Near Aim, Of The Main Chance Of Things As Yet Not Come To Life, Which In Their Seeds And Weak Beginnings Lie Intreasured.

It Is Not, Nor It Cannot, Come To Good, But Break, My Heart, For I Must Hold My Tongue.