Andrew:
:What is love? 'tis not hereafter,
:Present mirth hath present laughter;
:What's to come is still unsure:
:In delay there lies no plenty,--
:Then come kiss me, Sweet-and-twenty,
:Youth's a stuff will not endure. (II.iii.52).

Shakespeare closes the play with Feste alone on the stage, singing directly to the audience "of man's inexorable progress from childhood's holiday realm ... into age, vice, disillusionment, and death. ... [This] pessimism is informed and sweetened, however, not only