As you were going to a feast.[178:2]
Epicœne; Or, the Silent Woman. Act i. Sc. 1.
Give me a look, give me a face,
That makes simplicity a grace;
Robes loosely flowing, hair as free,—
Such sweet neglect more taketh me
Than all the adulteries of art:
They strike mine eyes, but not my heart.
Epicœne; Or, the Silent Woman. Act i. Sc. 1.
That old bald cheater, Time.