It Is A Note Of Upstart Greatness

Custom Is The Most Certain Mistress Of Language, As The Public Stamp Makes The Current Money.

Doing, A Filthy Pleasure Is, And Short; And Done, We Straight Repent Us Of The Sport: Let Us Not Rush Blindly On Unto It, Like Lustful Beasts, That Only Know To Do It: For Lust Will Languish, And That Heat Decay, But Thus, Thus, Keeping Endless Holy-.

Nor Shall Our Cups Make Any Guilty Men; But At Our Parting, We Will Be, As When We Innocently Met.

Follow A Shadow, It Still Flies You, Seem To Fly, It Will Pursue: So Court A Mistress, She Denies You; Let Her Alone, She Will Court You. Say Are Not Women Truly, Then, Styled But The Shadows Of Us Men?

How Near To Good Is What Is Fair!