Once on a Lord Mayor's Day, in Cheapside, when Skulls could not well pass through that scum of men, For quick despatch Skulls made no longer stay Than but to breathe, and everyone gave way;...
Be the mistress of my choice, Clean in manners, clear in voice; Be she witty, more than wise, Pure enough, though not precise; Be she showing in her dress, Like a civil wilderness,...
In sober mornings do thou not rehearse The holy incantation of a verse; But when that men have both well drunk, and fed, Let my enchantments then be sung, or read....
What need we marry women, when Without their use we may have men, And such as will in short time be For murder fit, or mutiny? As Cadmus once a new way found, By throwing teeth into the ground;...