both you here with many a cursed oth, / Sweare she is yours, and stirre vp bloudie frayes, / To win a willow bough, whilest other weares the bayes.
[We] have […] a strong inclination to make a farce of it, and mingle buffoonry with the most serious scenes.
Phil put his arms around him. Drew him in close, pressed his cheek to Dane's the way the Mafiosi in the fifties would kiss somebody right before they punched his ticket.
'Yar!' said she, 'you little meddlesome wretch, I have you now! I will serve you out for telling the salmon where I was!'
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