Forsooth, O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I! Is it not monstrous that this Lady here, but in a fiction, in a dream of cider, hath resorted to talking with yon cushion? Verily what's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba?!
I had as lief the town-crier spoke my lines. One may smile, and smile, and be a villain!
Vinr em ek vina minna!