Virtuous and fair, royal and gracious.
You cannot call it love, for at your age the heyday in the blood is tame
A lion among ladies is a most dreadful thing.
So we'll live, And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh at gilded butterflies.
'Sblood, you starveling, you elf-skin, you dried neat's tongue, you bull's pizzle, you stock-fish! O for breath to utter what is like thee! you tailor's-yard, you sheath, you bowcase; you vile standing-tuck!
Many a true word hath been spoken in jest.