There Is Flattery In Friendship.

Let Husbands Know Their Wives Have Sense Like Them. They See, And Smell, And Have Their Palates Both For Sweet And Sour, As Husbands Have.

Here Comes Monseiur Le Beau. Rosalind: With His Mouth Full Of News. Celia: Which He Will Put On Us, As Pigeons Feed Their Young. Rosalind: Then Shall We Be News-crammed. Celia: All The Better; We Shall Be The More Marketable.

Thy Wit Is A Very Bitter Sweeting; It Is A Most Sharp Sauce.

Exit, Pursued By A Bear.

To Set A Gloss On Faint Deeds, Hollow Welcomes, Recanting Goodness, Sorry Ere 'tis Shown; But Where There Is True Friendship, There Needs None.