Farewell! A Long Farewell To All My

When Workmen Strive To Do Better Than Well, They Do Confound Their Skill In Covetousness.

You See Me Here, You Gods, A Poor Old Man, As Full Of Grief As Age; Wretched In Both.

Antonio: Will You Stay No Longer? Nor Will You Not That I Go With You? Sebastian: By Your Patience, No. My Stars Shine Darkly Over Me; The Malignancy Of My Fate Might, Perhaps, Distemper Yours; Therefore I Shall Crave Of You Your Leave That I May Bear My Evils Alone. It Were A Bad Recompense For Your Love To Lay Any Of Them On You.

When Once Our Grace We Have Forgot, Nothing Goes Right.

All Dark And Comfortless.