VIOLA.
So thou mayst say, the king lies by a beggar, if a beggar dwell
near him; or the church stands by thy tabor, if thy tabor stand
by the church.

CLOWN.
You have said, sir. To see this age! A sentence is but a cheveril
glove to a good wit; how quickly the wrong side may be turn'd
outward!

VIOLA.
Nay, that's certain; they that dally nicely with words may
quickly make them wanton.

CLOWN.
I would, therefore, my sister had had no name, sir.

VIOLA.
Why, man?

CLOWN.
Why, sir, her name's a word; and to dally with that word might
make my sister wanton. But, indeed, words are very rascals since
bonds disgrac'd them.

VIOLA.
Thy reason, man?

CLOWN.
Troth, sir, I can yield you none without words; and words are