The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs of Apollo. You that; we this way.

“Have I not reason, beldams as you are, Saucy and overbold? How did you dare To …”

“Those palates who, not yet two summers younger, must have inventions to delight…”

“She speaks poniards, and every word stabs.”

“I will receive it sir with all diligence of spirit. Put your bonnet to his righ…”