Hen. O Kate, nice customs curtsey to great kings. Dear Kate, you and I cannot be confined within the weak list of a country’s fashion; we are the makers of manners, Kate; and the liberty that follows our places stops the mouths of all find-faults, as I will do yours, for upholding the nice fashion of your country, in denying me a kiss: therefore, patiently, and yielding [kissing her]. You have witchcraft in your lips, Kate; there is more eloquence in the sugar touch of them than in the tongues of the French council, and they should sooner persuade Harry of England than a general petition of monarchs.
Henry V., v. 2.
Mortimer. Direct mine arms, I may embrace his neck,
And in his bosom spend my latter gasp;
Oh, tell me, when my lips do touch his cheeks,
That I may kindly give one fainting kiss.
1 Henry VI., ii. 5.
(Suffolk to Lady Margaret.)