Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date:

You two! said Lady Margaret. What will William Belet think? […] Finally Edith broke the silence. He thinks we're fopdoodles! she said. And they all laughed.

Before they went to see Glinda, however, they were taken to a room of the Castle, where Dorothy washed her face and combed her hair, and the Lion shook the dust out of his mane, and the Scarecrow patted himself into his best shape, and the Woodman polished his tin and oiled his joints.

Alas! We two, we two, thou say'st! Yea, one wast thou with me That once of old.