Sonnet 3, by NY Shakespeare Exchange

Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest
Now is the time that face should form another;
Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest,
Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother.
For where is she so fair whose uneared womb
Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry?
Or who is he so fond will be the tomb
Of his self-love, to stop posterity?
Thou art thy mother's glass and she in thee
Calls back the lovely April of her prime;
So thou through windows of thine age shalt see,
Despite of wrinkles, this thy golden time.
     But if thou live, remembered not to be,
     Die single and thine image dies with thee.

Sonnet 3, from The Sonnet Project, by the New York Shakespeare Exchange.

Oh, can modern day singles ever heed such deft, such lyrical dating advice?  At first I wondered if Ron Cohen as the bartender was the father of the young man in plaid.  Then, I saw that more likely the sonnet was about him, single all these years, facing the prospects of an empty legacy.

Still he is kind enough to advise the young man not to fall on the same childless tracks and instead go for it.  The fatherly advisor takes a turn, not quite as bawdy as the Nurse in `Romeo and Juliet, at egging the young man to have sex with that lady with black hair and impregnate her longing, virginal womb.