|

Shakespeare Insults
From Measure for Measure
Thy bones are hollow, impiety has made a feast of thee
Come, you are a tedious fool.
Your bum is the greatest thing about you, so that, in the beastliest sense, you are Pomey the Great
O you beast, o faithless coward, o dishonest wretch. Wilt thou be made a man out of my vice
I'll pray a thousand prayers for your death
Thy sin is not accidental, but a trade
It is certain that when he makes water his urine is congealed ice
Silence that fellow, I would he had some casuse to prattle for himself
Away with those giglets
A fool, a coward, one all of luxury, an ass, a madman
|