The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne, Burnt on the water.

O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath!

Old Time the clock-setter.

What, with my tongue in your tail? nay, come again, Good Kate; I am a gentleman.

Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud.

The jury passing on the prisoner's life may in the sworn twelve have a thief or two guiltier than him they try.

But, indeed, words are very rascals, since bonds [vows] disgraced them." Viola: "Thy reason, man?" Feste: "Troth [Truthfully], sir, I can yield you none without words, and words are grown so false, I am loathe to prove reason with them.