“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!”

“Confusion now hath made his masterpiece.”

“And where two raging fires meet together, they do consume the thing that feeds their fury.”

“And thou, all-shaking thunder,Strike flat the thick rotundity o' the world!Crack nature's moulds, all germens spill at onceThat makes ingrateful man!”