I was a coward on instinct.
[S]ince brevity is the soul of wit, And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes, I will be brief.
Why, there's a wench! Come on, and kiss me, Kate.
Tis no sin for a man to labor in his vocation.
Swift as shadow, short as any dream
In thy face I see the map of honour, truth and loyalty.