Richard Brathwait

"A wily wench there was (as I have read) Who us’d to capricorn her husband’s head."

"Skin more pure than Ida’s snow, Whiter far than Moorish milk, Sweeter than ambrosia too, Softer than the Paphian silk, Indian plumes or thistle-down, Or May-blossoms newly blown, Is my mistress rosy-pale, Adding beauty to her veil."

"To Banbury came I, O profane one! Where I saw a Puritane-one Hanging of his cat on Monday, For killing of a mouse on Sunday."

"I'd rather die Maid, and lead apes in Hell Than wed an inmate of Silenus' Cell."