By my troth, ’s but a night-gown in respect of yours: cloth o’ gold, and cuts, and laced with silver, set with pearls, down sleeves, side sleeves, and skirts, round underborne with a bluish tinsel […]

If ye refuse […] ye shall be devoured with the sword.

Take warning in time, cocklings; look sharp — but not in this direction, if you please.'

I just heard a plonk – did something fall down in the kitchen?