King Stephen was a worthy peere,
His breeches cost him but a crowne;
He held them sixpence read more

King Stephen was a worthy peere,
His breeches cost him but a crowne;
He held them sixpence all too deere,
Therefore he call'd the taylor lowne.

Sister, look ye,
How, by a new creation of my tailor's
I've shook off old mortality.

Sister, look ye,
How, by a new creation of my tailor's
I've shook off old mortality.

Thy gown? Why, ay--come, tailor, let us see't.
O mercy, God, what masquing stuff is there?
What's read more

Thy gown? Why, ay--come, tailor, let us see't.
O mercy, God, what masquing stuff is there?
What's this, a sleeve? 'Tis like a demi-cannon.
What, up and down carved like an apple tart?
Here's snip and nip and cut and slish and slash,
Like to a censer in a barber's shop.
Why, what's a devil's name, tailor, call'st thou this?

Thy clothes are all the soul thou hast.

Thy clothes are all the soul thou hast.

(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.

One commending a Tayler for his dexteritie in his profession,
another standing by ratified his opinion, saying tailors had read more

One commending a Tayler for his dexteritie in his profession,
another standing by ratified his opinion, saying tailors had
their business at their fingers' ends.
- William Hazlitt,

All his reverend wit
Lies in his wardrobe.

All his reverend wit
Lies in his wardrobe.

What a fine man
Hath your tailor made you!

What a fine man
Hath your tailor made you!

Get me some French tailor
To new-create you.

Get me some French tailor
To new-create you.