A sweet disorder in the dresse
Kindles in cloathes a wantonnesse.

A sweet disorder in the dresse
Kindles in cloathes a wantonnesse.

(Cloten:) Thou villain base,
Know'st me not by my clothes?
(Guiderius:) No, nor thy tailor, rascal,
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(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.

And now, my honey love,
Will we return unto thy father's house
And revel it as bravely read more

And now, my honey love,
Will we return unto thy father's house
And revel it as bravely as the best,
With silken coats and caps and golden rings,
With ruffs and cuffs and farthingales and things;
With scarfs and fans and double change of brav'ry,
With amber bracelets, beads, and all this knav'ry.

Dress does not give knowledge.
[Sp., La ropa no da ciencia.]

Dress does not give knowledge.
[Sp., La ropa no da ciencia.]

If most of us are ashamed of shabby clothes and shoddy furniture,
let us be more ashamed of shabby read more

If most of us are ashamed of shabby clothes and shoddy furniture,
let us be more ashamed of shabby ideas and shoddy
philosophies. . . . It would be a sad situation if the wrapper
were better than the meat wrapped inside it.

He will come to her in yellow stockings, and 'tis a color she
abhors, and cross-gartered, a fashion she read more

He will come to her in yellow stockings, and 'tis a color she
abhors, and cross-gartered, a fashion she detests; and he will
smile upon her, which will now be so unsuitable to her
disposition, being addicted to a melancholy as she is, that it
cannot but turn him into a notable contempt.

Their feet through faithless leather met the dirt,
And oftener chang'd their principles than shirt.

Their feet through faithless leather met the dirt,
And oftener chang'd their principles than shirt.

To treat a poor wretch with a bottle of Burgundy, and fill his
snuff-box, is like giving a pair read more

To treat a poor wretch with a bottle of Burgundy, and fill his
snuff-box, is like giving a pair of laced ruffles to a man that
has never a shirt on his back.

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.