To Go To Bed After Midnight Is

Muster Your Wits; Stand In Your Own Defence.

I Can Give The Loser Leave To Chide.

Give Every Man Thy Ear, But Few Thy Voice.

Yes, Faith; It Is My Cousin's Duty To Make Curtsy And Say 'father, As It Please You.' But Yet For All That, Cousin, Let Him Be A Handsome Fellow, Or Else Make Another Curtsy And Say 'father, As It Please Me.

Unless Hours Were Cups Of Sack, And Minutes Capons, And Clocks The Tongues Of Bawds, And Dials The Signs Of Leaping-houses, And The Blessed Sun Himself A Fair Hot Wench In Flame-colored Taffeta, I See No Reason Why Thou Shouldst Be So Superfluous To Demand The Time Of The Day.