And too soon Marred are those so early Made.
Right joyous are we to behold your face, Most worthy brother England; fairly met!
If by chance I talk a little wild, forgive me; I had it from my father.
He is winding the watch of his wit; by and by it will strike.
Having my freedom, boast of nothing else.
Then was I as a tree whose boughs did bend with fruit; but in one night, a storm or robbery, call it what you will, shook down my mellow hangings, nay, my leaves, and left me bare to weather.