Guest
I have of late, but wherefore I know not, lost all my mirth and indeed, it goes so heavily with my disposition; that this goodly frame the Earth, seemes to me a sterrill Promontory; this most excellent Canopy the Ayre, look you, this brave ore-hanging firmament, this Majestical Roof, fretted with golden fire: why, it appeares no other thing to me, then a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. What a piece of work is a man, How noble in Reason, how infinite in faculties, how like an angel in apprehension how like a God ! the beauty of the world, the paragon of animals. and yet to me, what is this quintessence of dust? Man delights not me; no, nor Woman neither; —The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark (Act II, Scene ii, 285-300)
