745 Hath much deform’d us, fashioning our humours
Even to the opposed end of our intents:
And what in us hath seem’d ridiculous,—
[748] As love is full of unbefitting strains;
All wanton as a child, skipping, and vain;
750 Form’d by the eye, and therefore, like the eye,
[751] Full of strange shapes, of habits and of forms,
Varying in subjects as the eye doth roll
To every varied object in his glance:
Which parti-coated presence of loose love