By this hand of flesh, Would it might never write good court-hand more, If I discover . What do you think of me, That I am a chouse?

a show of fumes and fancies

This resistance, on the writer's part, could well account for his mildly enigmatic, unfinal and anti-climactic denouements, often narrativised as happy endings of sorts, without actually being felt to be so by the characters, not even ironically.

[…] [he] spent a lot of time wanly imagining how warm and secure marriage must make men feel […]