Grace Me No Grace, Nor Uncle Me

A Kind Of Excellent Dumb Discourse.

Murder Most Foul, As In The Best It It; But This Most Foul, Strange, And Unnatural.

An Honest Man, Sir, Is Able To Speak For Himself, When A Knave Is Not.

You Peasant Swain! You Whoreson Malt-horse Drudge!

Being Daily Swallowed By Men's Eyes, They Surfeited With Honey And Began To Loathe The Taste Of Sweetness, Whereof A Little More Than A Little Is By Much Too Much. So, When He Had Occasion To Be Seen, He Was But As The Cuckoo Is In June. Heard, Not Regarded.