Elizabethan Peasant 1: Look yonder! Someone has writ upon that ceiling that thou art most easily gulled!
Elizabethan Peasant 2: More fool they, for I cannot read.
Elizabethan Peasant 1: *sighing, lowers his visage unto his palm*
Elizabethan Peasant 1: Lo, hast thou learned to read?
Elizabethan Peasant 2: Verily, and to compose as well.
Elizabethan Peasant 1: With haste, then, how is the word “i cup” composed?
Elizabethan Peasant 1: what ho, I know a sporting jest! What art thou when thou art a peasant and art occupied in a privy?
Elizabethan Peasant 2: I wist not, but certain am I that thou shalt tell me speedily.
Elizabethan Peasant 1: Most verily, thou art a peon.
Elizabethan Child: Father, I have not yet broken fast and am filled with pangs of hunger.
Elizabethan Father: Hail, Filled With Pangs Of Hunger! Mine own name is Wybert.
