First Gent. ’Tis well known I am a Gentleman. My father was a man of £500 a year, and he held something in capite too.
Second Gent. So does my Lord something—
Foolish Lord. Nay, by my troth, what I hold in capite is worth little or nothing.
2.
Fool’s Experience.
Page. He that’s first a scholar, and next in love, the year after is either an arrant fool or a madman.
Master. How came your knavery by such experience?
Page. As fools do by news: somebody told me so, and I believe it.
3.
Modern Sybarite.
——softly, ye villains!—the rogues of chairmen have trundled me over some damn’d nutshell or other, that gave me such a jerk as has half murder’d me.