āEnjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber.ā
āGet thee to a nunnery.ā
āWolves and bears, they say, casting their savagery aside, have done like offices of pity.ā
āWhat, no more ceremony? See, my women! Against the blown rose may they stop their nose That kneel'd unto the buds.ā
āI am not bound to please thee with my answer.ā
āAway, you cut-purse rascal! you filthy bung, away! By this wine, I'll thrust my knife in your mouldy chaps, an you play the saucy cuttle with me. Away, you bottle-ale rascal! you basket-hilt stale juggler, you!ā
āSit by my side, and let the world slip: we shall ne'er be younger.ā
āAll things that are, are with more spirit chased than enjoyed.ā
āLet the stoics say what they please, we do not eat for the good of living, but because the meat is savory and the appetite is keen.ā