complaints I have heard of you I do not all believe;'tis my slowness that I do not, for I know you lack not folly to commit them and have ability enough to make such knaveries yours.
You would answer very well to a whipping
Scurvy, old, filthy, scurry lord
Methink thou art a general offence, and every man should beat thee. I think thou wast created for men to breathe themselves upon you
You are not worth another word, else I'd call you knave
France is a dog hole, and it no more merits the tread of a man's foot
She is too mean to have her name repeated
He's a most notable coward, an infinite and endless liar, an hourly promise breaker, the owner of not one good quality
I spoke with her but once, and found her wondrous cold
For I knew the young Count to be dangerous and lascivious boy, who is a whale to virginity, and devours up all the fry it finds
Drunkenness is his best virtue, for he will be swine drunk, and in his sleep he does little harm, save to his bedclothes about him
He hath out-villiain'd villainy so far that the rarity redeems him
He excels his brother for a coward, yet his brother is reputed one of the best there is. In a retreat he outruns any lackey, marry, in the coming on he has the cramp
Use the carp as you may, for he looks like a poor, decayed, ingenious, foolish, rascally knave
I saw the man today, if man he be
This woman's an easy glove, my lord, she goes off and on at pleasure.
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