FOOL:
What art thou, more than mine hat?
Dost blown away by light at that!
When I turn back and laugh at thee,
Thou dost naught, so much as frown at me!
Me? I'll smile at death I know,
We'll have a fine gentlemanly row,
But at it's best I'll mention thee,
For I'm certain Death'll agree,

He'll shake my hand and whisper to me,
"O that coward!, with thy flesh he'll flee!"
SHADOW:
Well Sir! How fine a gentleman thou art!
About to die, but playing the part;
Of a showman, indeed a show!
With none less than Death, thou shalt row!
But in meantime must I let thee know,
For all the fun at my expense
Thou hast lost all commonsense,
For when thou cuss with stiffened lip,
Mine own retort thou dost equip.
Forget not, when I am lost;
Thy earthly flask too shall be toss'd,
Thus making thee as small a grain,
As thy shadow, with whom
Thee, in this desert reign.

Published on December 7th, 2022