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{{script|Complicatio}}: You know me, ma’am, that I uphold | {{script|Complicatio}}: You know me, ma’am, that I uphold <br> | ||
Unyokèd idleness in thought and deed and patter <br> | |||
Of | Of he — <br> | ||
{{script|Nuncle}} — or she. <br> | |||
{{Script|Complicatio}} Aye, or she, or they, or xe <br> | |||
{{Script|Queen}}: The heavens doth annoint!<br> | |||
{{Script|Nuncle}} Prey tarry not with each declension, sir:<br> | |||
Her majesty doth get the point.<br> | |||
whose expertise one must <br> | |||
Engage on divers subject-matters: <br> | |||
Yegads, they are inconstant. Oafish! Slow! Inattendery. Oh! | Yegads, they are inconstant. Oafish! Slow! Inattendery. Oh! | ||
<div class="wrap"> | |||
Yet herein will I imitate the sun, | Yet herein will I imitate the sun, | ||
Who doth permit the base contagious clouds | Who doth permit the base contagious clouds | ||
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I'll so offend, to make offence a skill; | I'll so offend, to make offence a skill; | ||
Redeeming time when men think least I will. | Redeeming time when men think least I will. | ||
</div> | |||
Revision as of 13:52, 23 October 2022
Complicatio: You know me, ma’am, that I uphold
Unyokèd idleness in thought and deed and patter
Of he —
Nuncle — or she.
Complicatio Aye, or she, or they, or xe
Queen: The heavens doth annoint!
Nuncle Prey tarry not with each declension, sir:
Her majesty doth get the point.
whose expertise one must
Engage on divers subject-matters:
Yegads, they are inconstant. Oafish! Slow! Inattendery. Oh!
Yet herein will I imitate the sun, Who doth permit the base contagious clouds To smother up his beauty from the world, That, when he please again to be himself, Being wanted, he may be more wonder'd at, By breaking through the foul and ugly mists305 Of vapours that did seem to strangle him. If all the year were playing holidays, To sport would be as tedious as to work; But when they seldom come, they wish'd for come, And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents.310 So, when this loose behavior I throw off And pay the debt I never promised, By how much better than my word I am, By so much shall I falsify men's hopes; And like bright metal on a sullen ground,315 My reformation, glittering o'er my fault, Shall show more goodly and attract more eyes Than that which hath no foil to set it off. I'll so offend, to make offence a skill; Redeeming time when men think least I will.