_Constable._ Marry, he told me so himself; and he said, he car’d not who knew it. _Henry_ V. _Shakespear._ He never broke any man’s head but his own, and that was against a post when he was drunk. _Ibid._ _Millament._ Sententious Mirabell! pr’ythee don’t look with that violent and inflexible wise face, like Solomon at the dividing of the child in an old tapestry hanging. _Way of the world._ A true critic in the perusal of a book, is like a dog at a feast, whose thoughts and stomach are wholly set upon what the guests fling away, and consequently is apt to snarl most when there are the fewest bones. _Tale of a Tub._ In the following instances the ridicule is made to appear from the behaviour of the persons introduced. _Mascarille._ Te souvient-il, vicomte, de cette demi-lune, que nous emportâmes sur les ennemis au siege d’Arras? _Jedelet._ Que veux tu dire avec ta demi-lune? c’etoit bien une lune toute entiere. _Moliere les Precieuses Ridicules, sc. 11._ _Slender._ I came yonder at Eaton to marry Mrs. Anne Page; and she’s a great lubberly boy. _Page._ Upon my life then you took the wrong. _Slender._ What need you tell me that? I think so, when I took a boy for a girl: if I had been marry’d to him, for all he was in woman’s apparel, I would not have had him. _Merry Wives of Windsor._ _Valentine._ Your blessing, Sir. _Sir Sampson._ You’ve had it already, Sir: I think I sent it you to-day in a bill for four thousand pound; a great deal of money, Brother Foresight. _Foresight._ Ay indeed, Sir Sampson, a great deal of money for a young man; I wonder what can he do with it. _Love for Love, act 2. sc. 7._ _Millamant._ I nauseate walking; ’tis a country-diversion; I lothe the country, and every thing that relates to it. _Sir Wilful._ Indeed! hah! look ye, look ye, you do? nay, ’tis like you may---- here are choice of pastimes here in town, as plays and the like; that must be confess’d indeed. _Millamant._ Ah l’etourdie! I hate the town too. _Sir Wilful._ Dear heart, that’s much---- hah! that you should hate ’em both! hah! ’tis like you may; there are some can’t relish the town, and others can’t away with the country---- ’tis like you may be one of those, Cousine. _Way of the world, act 4. sc. 4._ _Lord Froth._ I assure you, Sir Paul, I laugh at no body’s jest but my own, or a lady’s: I assure you, Sir Paul. _Brisk._ How? how, my Lord? what, affront my wit! Let me perish, do I never say any thing worthy to be laugh’d at?