I remember a mass of things, but nothing distinctly; a quarrel,
but nothing wherefore. O God, that men should read more

I remember a mass of things, but nothing distinctly; a quarrel,
but nothing wherefore. O God, that men should put an enemy in
their mouths to steal away their brains! that we should with
joy, pleasance, revel, and applause transform ourselves into
beasts!

In honest plainness thou hast heard me say
My daughter is not for thee; and now, in madness,
read more

In honest plainness thou hast heard me say
My daughter is not for thee; and now, in madness,
Being full of supper and distemp'ring draughts,
Upon malicious knavery does thou come
To start my quiet.

I will ask him for my place again: he shall tell me I am a
drunkard! Had I as read more

I will ask him for my place again: he shall tell me I am a
drunkard! Had I as many mouths as Hydra, such an answer would
stop them all. To be now a sensible man, by and by a fool, and
presently a beast! O strange! Every inordinate cup is unblest,
and the ingredient is a devil.

All learned, and all drunk!

All learned, and all drunk!

. . . And when night
Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons
Of Belial, flown read more

. . . And when night
Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons
Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine.

Shall I, to please another wine-sprung minde,
Lose all mine own? God hath giv'n me a measure
read more

Shall I, to please another wine-sprung minde,
Lose all mine own? God hath giv'n me a measure
Short of His can and body; must I find
A pain in that, wherein he finds a pleasure?

Beware the deadly fumes of that insane elation
Which rises from the cup of mad impiety,
And read more

Beware the deadly fumes of that insane elation
Which rises from the cup of mad impiety,
And go, get drunk with that divine intoxication
Which is more sober far than all sobriety.

I told you, sir, they were redhot with drinking;
So full of valor that they smote the air
read more

I told you, sir, they were redhot with drinking;
So full of valor that they smote the air
For breathing in their faces, beat the ground,
For kissing of their feet; yet always bending
Towards their project.

Soon as the potion works, their human count'nance,
Th' express resemblance of the gods, is chang'd
Into read more

Soon as the potion works, their human count'nance,
Th' express resemblance of the gods, is chang'd
Into some bruitish form of wolf or bear,
Or ounce or tiger, hog, or bearded goat,
All other parts remaining as they were;
And they, so perfect in their misery,
Not once perceive their foul disfigurement.