His gayeſt flooriſhes are but Gaſcoignes Weedes, or Tarletons trickes, or Greenes crankes, or Marlowes bravadoes; his jeſts, but the dregges of common ſcurrilitie, or the ſhreds of the Theater, or the of-ſcouring of new pamflets: […]

As plesaunt to the ere as the blacke sanctus Of a sad sorte vpon a mery pyn.

Well, gentlemen, I was standing with her just inside the window, in all innocence, as God is my judge, when he rushed like a madman into the room, called her the vilest name that a man could use to a woman, and welted her across the face with the stick he had in his hand.

His seconde hawke wexyd gery And was with flyenge wery. She had flowyn so oft, That on the rode loft She perkyd her to rest.