The horn, the horn, the lusty horn Is not a thing to laugh to scorn.
Go hang yourself, you naughty mocking uncle!
O thou invisible spirit of wine, if thou has no name to be known by, let us call thee devil....O God, that men should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains! that we should, with joy, pleasance revel and applause, transform ourselves into beasts!
And I will make it felony to drink small beer.
Who can be patient in extremes?
I can get no remedy against this consumption of the purse: borrowing only lingers and lingers it out, but the disease is incurable.