Now I perceive the devil understands Welsh. And 'tis no marvel he is so humorous. By'r Lady, he is a good musician.

For what good turn?
Messenger: For the best turn of the bed.

There's the humour of it.

How low am I, thou painted maypole?
(Hermia to Helena)

You lie, in faith; for you are call'd plain Kate,
And bonny Kate and sometimes Kate the curst;
But Kate, the prettiest Kate in Christendom
Kate of Kate Hall, my super-dainty Kate,
For dainties are all Kates, and therefore, Kate,
Take this of me, Kate of my consolation;
Hearing thy mildness praised in every town,
Thy virtues spoke of, and thy beauty sounded,
Yet not so deeply as to thee belongs,
Myself am moved to woo thee for my wife.

Better a witty fool, than a foolish wit.