It is the very error of the moon; She comes more nearer earth than she was wont, And makes men mad.

Tis a happy thing To be the father unto many sons.

Had I but served my God with half the zeal I served my king, he would not in mine age have left me naked to mine enemies.

More of your conversation would infect my brain.

Thou weedy elf-skinned canker-blossom!

Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice; Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment.

Wooing, wedding, and repenting is as a Scotch jig, a measure, and a cinque-pace: the first suit is hot and hasty like a Scotch jig--and full as fantastical; the wedding, mannerly modest, as a measure, full of state and ancientry; and then comes repentance and with his bad legs falls into the cinque-pace faster and faster, till he sink into his grave.