Welcome, said I? O orificial rhetoric, wipe thy everlasting
mouth, and afford me a more Indian metaphor than that
for the brave princely blood of a Saxon. Oratory, uncask the
bard hutch of thy compliments, and with the triumphantest
trope in thy treasury do trewage unto him. What impotent
speech with his eight parts may not specify, this unestimable
gift, holding his peace, shall as it were (with tears I speak it)
do, whereby as it may seem or appear to manifest or declare,
and yet it is, and yet it is not, and yet it may be a diminutive
oblation meritorious to your high pusillanimity and indignity.
Why should I go gadding and fizgigging (=gadding about) after
firking flantado amphibologies? (=frisking, flaunting equivocations)
Wit is wit, and goodwill is goodwill. With all the wit I have, I here,
according to the premises, offer up unto you the city’s general
goodwill, which is a gilded can, in manner and form following, for
you and the heirs of your body lawfully begotten to drink healths
in. The scholastical squitter-books clout you up canopies and
foot-cloths of verses.