I wonder that you will still be talking. Nobody marks you.
Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud.
O jest unseen, inscrutable, invisible, As a nose on a man's face, or a weathercock on a steeple.
Let those that play your clowns speak no more than is set down for them.
Sometimes when we are labeled, when we are branded our brand becomes our calling.
O love, be moderate, allay thy ecstasy, In measure rain thy joy, scant this excess!