Fair Portia’s counterfeit? What demi-god
Hath come so near creation, and what
Doth the demi-god, forsaken caitiff, charge
Per dozen? Move these eyes? Or, whether riding
On the balls of mine, seem they in motion?
Ask me an easier one.
Here are severed lips parted with sugar breath;
Wonder if Jones—but, no! Perish
The thought! And, also, perish Jones,
The ringboned, spavined Jobberwock,