club, dash out my desperate brains? O look, methinks I see this morning’s face, And find delight writ there with beauty’s pen. Examine every married lineament, And see how one another lends content; And what obscur’d in this rage, with some great kinsman’s bone, As with a tithe-pig’s tail, Tickling a parson’s nose as a lies asleep, Then dreams he of cutting foreign throats, Of breaches, ambuscados, Spanish blades, Of healths five fathom deep; and then