"Alas!" cried he, "thou hast found me an archer that will make thy wife to wring!" I would that thou hadst ne'er said one word to me, or that I had never passed thy way, or e'en that my right forefinger had been stricken off ere that this had happened! In haste I smote, but grieve I sore at leisure!" Prologue, p. 5.

"Nay," quoth Robin, laughing loudly, "many do like me and wish me well, but few call me honest." Part Second, p 55.

"Come, fill us some sack!" cried Robin. "Let us e're be merry while we may, for man is but dust, and he hath but a span to live here till the worm getteth him, as our good gossip Swanthold sayeth; so let life be merry while it lasts, say I. Nay, never look down i' the mouth, sir Sheriff. Who knowest but that thou mayest...