āFor she had eyes and chose me.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
āThere is no love-broker in the world can more prevail in man's commendation with woman than report of valor.ā
āI'll look to like; if looking, liking move.ā
āWhat made me love thee? let that persuade thee, there's something extraordinary in theeā