I had rather live / With cheese and garlic in a windmill, far, / Than feed on cates and have him talk to me / In any summer house in Christendom.
After, he made an harlot, a ribald, come to him alone for to touch his members and his body, to move to lechery.
They are thus more actorlike in some respects, but arguably less actors (than their forebears, or peasants) in other respects. In any case they are not plausibly the exaggerated actors marching around the metatheory of actor-centric social science.
Thick as autumnal leaves that strow the brooks / In Vallombrosa,[…].
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