He does it with a better grace, but I do it more natural.

Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 3.

Is there no respect of place, parsons, nor time in you?

Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 3.

Sir To.  Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale?

Clo.  Yes, by Saint Anne, and ginger shall be hot i' the mouth too.

Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 3.

My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that colour.

Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 3.

These most brisk and giddy-paced times.