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Now old Tredgortha's dead and gone,
We ne'er shall see him more;
He used to wear an read more
Now old Tredgortha's dead and gone,
We ne'er shall see him more;
He used to wear an old grey coat,
All buttoned down before.
They were attempting to put on
Raimant from naked bodies won.
They were attempting to put on
Raimant from naked bodies won.
(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.
Each Bond-street buck conceits, unhappy elf;
He shows his clothes! alas! he shows himself.
O that they read more
Each Bond-street buck conceits, unhappy elf;
He shows his clothes! alas! he shows himself.
O that they knew, these overdrest self-lovers,
What hides the body oft the mind discovers.
Not caring, so that sumpter-horse, the back
Be hung with gaudy trappings, in what course
Yea, rags read more
Not caring, so that sumpter-horse, the back
Be hung with gaudy trappings, in what course
Yea, rags most beggarly, they clothe the soul.
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.
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.
When this old cap was new
'Tis since two hundred years.
When this old cap was new
'Tis since two hundred years.
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.