Look, what a horse should have he did not lack, Save a proud rider on his back.

The good I stand on is my truth and honesty.

Give me my sin again.

We must be gentle now we are gentlemen.

By innocence I swear, and by my youth, I have one heart, one bosom, and one truth, And that no woman has, nor never none Shall mistress be of it save I alone.

I must to the barber's, monsieur, for methinks I am marvellous hairy about the face.

There was never yet philosopher that could endure the toothache patiently