For thine own bowels, which do call thee [sire],
30 The mere effusion of thy proper loins,
Do curse the gout, [serpigo], and the rheum,
For ending thee no sooner. Thou hast nor youth nor age.
But, as it were, an after-dinner’s sleep,
Dreaming on both; for [all thy blessed] youth
35 Becomes [as aged], and doth beg the alms
Of palsied eld; and when thou art old and rich,
Thou hast neither heat, affection, limb, nor [beauty],
To make thy riches pleasant. What’s [yet] in this