“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!”

“A woman impudent and mannish grownIs not more loath'd than an effeminate man.”

“Ah me, how weak a thingThe heart of woman is!”

“Constant you are, But yet a woman; and for secrecy, No lady closer; for I well believe Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know.”