“Get thee to a nunnery.”

“Wolves and bears, they say, casting their savagery aside, have done like offices of pity.”

“What, no more ceremony? See, my women! Against the blown rose may they stop their nose That kneel'd unto the buds.”

“I am not bound to please thee with my answer.”

“Away, 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!”

“They have a plentiful lack of wit.”

“A man in all the world's new fashion planted, That hath a mint of phrases in his brain.”

“Yet writers say, as in the sweetest budThe eating canter dwells, so eating loveInhabits in the finest wits of all.”