IV.2
This is a gift that I have, simple, simple; a foolish extravagant spirit, full of forms, figures, shapes, objects, ideas, apprehensions, motions, revolutions: these are begot in the ventricle of memory, nourished in the womb of pia mater, and delivered upon the mellowing of occasion. But the gift is good in those in whom it is acute, and I am thankful for it.

V.1
His humour is lofty, his discourse peremptory, 
his tongue filed, his eye
ambitious, his gait majestical, and his general 
behavior vain, ridiculous, and thrasonical. He is 
too picked, too spruce, too affected, too odd, as it 
were, too peregrinate, as I may call it.

He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer 
than the staple of his argument. I abhor such
fanatical phantasimes, such insociable and 
point-devise companions; such rackers of
orthography.