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Come knock and enter, and no sooner in, but every man betake him to his legs.
That dreamers often lie.
And we mean well in going to this mask, but 'tis no wit to go.
I dreamt a dream tonight.
Well, what yours?
And so did I.
Why, may I ask?
This wind you talk of blows us from ourselves: supper is done, and we shall come too late.
I fear too early, for my mind misgives some consequences yet hanging in the stars shall bitterly begin his fearful date with this night's revels, and expire the term of a despised life closed in my breast, by some vile forfeit of untimely death.But he that hath the steerage of my course direct my sail! On lusty gentleman.
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