Jesus tourned him about, and behelde her saynge: Doughter be off goode comforte, thy fayth hath made the safe.

When the captain offered a free round of grog to the crew, every man Jack of them lined up for a cupful.

[…] she said, sharply, if we women had great fists as big as yours there might be a juster spurting of noseblood, Broad One.

Pray, Madam! let me have none of your chasmatical impertinence.