I had a dream, it was on a gondola under the twilight sky, there you were, there I was and then there was the merchant of Venice.
In sooth, I know not why I am so sad;
It wearies me; you say it wearies you;
But how I caught it, found it, or came by it,
What stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born,
I am to learn;
And such a want-wit sadness makes of me
That I have much ado to know myself.
I hold the world but as a world, '*';
A stage where every man must play a part
And mine I did on so many occasions,
the two 'tis heart will not forget,
That much I owe you.