Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sty
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The mutterings retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotel
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question...
Oh, do not ask, "What is it?"
Let us go and make our visit
In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo
For I have known them all already, know them all:
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?
No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, on that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two
Advise the prince, no doubt, an easy toll,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous---
Almost, at times, the Fool.