William Shakspeare.
“O might I kiss the hand of my deliverer, whose clear-sightedness throweth such manifest and plenary light upon my innocence!”
Sir Thomas.
“How so? What light, in God’s name, have I thrown upon it as yet?”
William Shakspeare.
“Oh! those voices! those faeries and spirits! whence came they? None can deal with ’em but the devil, the parson, and witches. And does not the devil oftentimes take the very form, features, and habiliments of knights, and bishops, and other good men, to lead them into temptation and destroy them? or to injure their good name, in failure of seduction?
“He is sure of the wicked; he lets them go their ways out of hand.
“I think your worship once delivered some such observation, in more courtly guise, which I would not presume to ape. If it was not your worship, it was our glorious lady the queen, or the wise Master Walsingham, or the great Lord Cecil. I may have marred and broken it, as sluts do a pancake, in the turning.”
Sir Thomas.
“Why! ay, indeed, I had occasion once to remark as much.”