“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!”

“Boldness be my friend.”

“To fear the foe, since fear oppresseth strength,Gives, in your weakness, strength unto your foe,And so your follies fight against yourself.Fear, and be slain--so worse can come to fight;And fight and die is death destroying death,Where fearing dying pays death servile breath.”

“Ring the alarum-bell! Blow, wind! come, wrack! At least we'll die with harness on our back.”