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(Cloten:) Thou villain base,
Know'st me not by my clothes?
(Guiderius:) No, nor thy tailor, rascal,
read more
(Cloten:) Thou villain base,
Know'st me not by my clothes?
(Guiderius:) No, nor thy tailor, rascal,
Who is thy grandfather. He made those clothes,
Which, as it seems, make thee.
Be pain in dress, and sober in your diet;
In short, my deary, kiss me! and be quiet.
Be pain in dress, and sober in your diet;
In short, my deary, kiss me! and be quiet.
He was a wight of high renowne,
And thosne but of a low degree;
Itt's pride that read more
He was a wight of high renowne,
And thosne but of a low degree;
Itt's pride that putts the countrye downe,
Man, take thine old cloake about thee.
He that is proud of the rustling of his silks, like a madman,
laughs at the ratling of his read more
He that is proud of the rustling of his silks, like a madman,
laughs at the ratling of his fetters. For indeed, Clothes ought
to be our remembrancers of our lost innocency.
She wears her clothes as if they were thrown on her with a
pitchfork.
She wears her clothes as if they were thrown on her with a
pitchfork.
Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,
But not expressed in fancy; rich, not gaudy,
For read more
Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,
But not expressed in fancy; rich, not gaudy,
For the apparel oft proclaims the man,
And they in France of the best rank and station
Are of a most select and generous chief in that.
Old Rose is dead, that good old man,
We ne'er shall see him more;
He used to read more
Old Rose is dead, that good old man,
We ne'er shall see him more;
He used to wear an old blue coat
All buttoned down before.
How his eyes languish! how his thoughts adore
That painted coat, which Joseph never wore!
He shows, read more
How his eyes languish! how his thoughts adore
That painted coat, which Joseph never wore!
He shows, on holidays, a sacred pin,
That touch'd the ruff, that touched Queen Bess' chin.
