[To season love] that of it doth not taste!
The sun not yet thy [sighs] from heaven clears,
Thy old groans ring yet in my [ancient] ears;
Lo, here upon thy cheek the stain doth sit
Of an old tear that is not wash'd off yet.
If e'er thou wast thyself and these woes thine,
Thou and these woes were all for Rosaline;
And art thou chang'd? pronounce this sentence then:
Women may fall when there's no strength in men.