Methinks in sadness I can see the Moor,
Othello, looking blacker than before;
Therefore, good John, we look to you
To put this house in order, and to Tame the Shrew.
The very age and body of the time (reflecting mirrors)
Proclaims this sale a Comedy of Errors,
While England wastes her thousands, ’tis not soothing,
To say this is Much Ado about Nothing;
For to the wise and thoughtful this would seem
A summer cloud or Midsummer Night’s Dream.