Thou Frothy Tickle-brained Hedge-pig!

I Had Rather Live With Cheese And Garlic In A Windmill.

What Are You Doing Sister? / Killing Swine.

A Countenance More In Sorrow Than In Anger.

Now, My Co-mates And Brothers In Exile, Hath Not Old Custom Made This Life More Sweet Than That Of Painted Pomp? Are Not These Woods More Free From Peril Than The Envious Court?

They Told Me I Was Everything. 'tis A Lie, I Am Not Ague-proof.