In masker‘s cloak and hood，
Each hating what the other loved，
Face to face we stood：
‘That I have met with such，’ said he，
‘Bodes me little good.’
‘Let others boast their fill，’ said I，
‘But never dare to boast
That such as I had such a man
For lover in the past；
Say that of living men I hate
Such a man the most.‘
‘A loony’d boast of such a love，‘
He in his rage declared：
But such as he for such as me—
Could we both discard
This beggarly habiliment—
Had found a sweeter word.