Act I, Scene 14

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• Shakespeare. Good night, good rest. Ah, neither be my share:
  She bade good night that kept my rest away;
  And daff'd me to a cabin hang'd with care,
  To descant on the doubts of my decay. 185
  'Farewell,' quoth she, 'and come again tomorrow:'
  Fare well I could not, for I supp'd with sorrow.

• Shakespeare. Yet at my parting sweetly did she smile,
  In scorn or friendship, nill I construe whether:
  'T may be, she joy'd to jest at my exile, 190
  'T may be, again to make me wander thither:
  'Wander,' a word for shadows like myself,
  As take the pain, but cannot pluck the pelf.