Th' embroider'd suit at least he deem'd his prey;
That suit an unpaid tailor snatched away.

Th' embroider'd suit at least he deem'd his prey;
That suit an unpaid tailor snatched away.

Yes, if they would thank their maker,
And seek no further, but they have new creators,
God read more

Yes, if they would thank their maker,
And seek no further, but they have new creators,
God tailor and god mercer.

May Moorland weavers boast Pindaric skill,
And tailors' lays be longer than their bill!
While punctual beaux read more

May Moorland weavers boast Pindaric skill,
And tailors' lays be longer than their bill!
While punctual beaux reward the grateful notes,
And pay for poems--when they pay for coats.

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.

It takes nine tailors to make a man.
[Fr., Il faut neuf tailleurs pour faire un homme.]

It takes nine tailors to make a man.
[Fr., Il faut neuf tailleurs pour faire un homme.]

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?

Get me some French tailor
To new-create you.

Get me some French tailor
To new-create you.

A tailor, though a man of upright dealing,--
True but for lying,--honest but for stealing,--
Did fall read more

A tailor, though a man of upright dealing,--
True but for lying,--honest but for stealing,--
Did fall one day extremely sick by chance
And on the sudden was in wondrous trance.

(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.