Each substance of a grief hath twenty shadows

What is your substance, whereof are you made,That millions of strange shadows on you tend?

By the apostle Paul, shadows to-night Have struck more terror to the soul of Richard Than can the substance of ten thousand soldiers Armed in proof and led by shallow Richmond.

Some there be that shadows kiss; Such have but a shadow's bliss.

Come like shadows, so depart!

O, grief hath changed me since you saw me last, And careful hours, with Time's deformed hand, Have written strange defeatures in my face.