have fought with the men, I will be cruel with the

maids, and cut off their heads.

which is a disgrace to them, if they bear it.

Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?

I do bite my thumb, sir.

With Cupid's arrow; she hath Dian's wit;

And, in strong proof of chastity well arm'd,

From love's weak childish bow she lives unharm.

Draw, if you be men. Gregory, remember thy swashing blow.

Part, fools!

Put up your swords; you know not what you do.

To call hers exquisite, in question more:

These happy masks that kiss fair ladies' brows

Being black put us in mind they hide the fair;

He that is strucken blind cannot forget

The precious treasure of his eyesight lost:

Show me a mistress that is passing fair,

What doth her beauty serve, but as a note

Where I may read who pass'd that passing fair?

Farewell: thou canst not teach me to forget.