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Villainous abominable misleader of youth!
– William Shakespeare
Do thou amend thy face, and I’ll amend my life.
I never saw thy face but I think upon hell-fire.
There’s no room for faith, truth, nor honesty in this bosom of thine. It is all filled up with guts and midriff.
Thou whoreson impudent embossed rascal!
A fool go with thy soul, whither it goes!
The dullest peasant in his camp.
Such toasts-and-butter, with hearts in their bellies no bigger than pins’ heads.
Thou whoreson mandrake.
Thou wouldn’t eat thy dead vomit up, And howl’st to find it.
You are as a candle, the better part burnt out.
You scullion! You rampallian! You fustilarian! I’ll tickle your catastrophe!
He hath eaten me out of house and home, he hath put all my substance into that fat belly of his.
O, he is as tedious As a tired horse, a railing wife, Worse than a smoky house.
Old white-bearded Satan!
There’s no more faith in thee than in a stewed prune.
As fat as butter.
A pox on this gout! or a gout on this pox!
Go, ye giddy goose.
So, so, thou common dog, didst thou disgorge Thy glutton bosom.
You re as rheumatic as two dry toasts.
You filthy bung, away!
Hang yourself, you muddy conger, hang yourself!
Away, you bottle-ale rascal.
You whoreson upright rabbit!
What a disgrace it is for me to remember thy name!
He lives upon mouldy stewed prunes and dried cakes.
Feed, and be fat.
Alas, poor ape, how thou sweat’st!
I cannot endure such a fustian rascal.