āAll dark and comfortless.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
āBlind is his love, and best befits the dark.ā
āNow entertain conjecture of a time When creeping murmur and the poring dark Fills the wide vessel of the universe.ā
āWe should hold day with the Antipodes,If you would walk in absence of the sun.ā