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Corrupter of words!
– William Shakespeare
Shall this fellow live?
Lo, how hollow the fiend speaks within him!
Youth, whatsoever thou art, thou art but a scurvy fellow.
I’ll ne’er believe a madman till I see his brains.
He is a stone, a very pebble stone.
If you spend word for word with me, I shall make your wit bankrupt.
What braggardism is this?
The sourest-natured dog that lives.
‘Bastard virtues’; that indeed know not their fathers, and therefore have no names.
She is lumpish, heavy, melancholy.
Degenerate and base art thou.
Pig-like he whines.
How now you whoreson peasant! Where have you been these two days loitering?
She is peevish, sullen, froward, Proud, disobedient, stubborn, lacking duty.
I throw thy name against the bruising stones.
An ass-head, and a coxcomb, and a knave, a thin-faced knave, a gull.
We’ll thwack him hence with distaffs.
This babble shall not henceforth trouble me.
O illiterate loiterer!
I hold him but a fool that will endanger His body for a girl that loves him not.
Thou subtle, perjured, false, disloyal man!
She hath more hair than wit, and more faults than hairs, and more wealth than faults.
Many a man there is (even at this present, Now, while I speak this) holds his wife by th’ arm, That little thinks she has been sluiced in ‘s absence And his pond fished by his next neighbour, by Sir Smile, his neighbour.
She is spread of late into a goodly bulk.
A callot Of boundless tongue, who late hath beat her husband, And now baits me!
Hated too, worse than the great’st infection that e’er was heard of read!
Be intelligent to me.
I see this is the time that the unjust man doth thrive.