All right, I'll catch you in the street, you rat, you toadstool.

May I never grow an inch up or down if I don't push your master into a dunghill, and I'll give you the same medicine, I will, by Hercules, I will, no matter if you call down Olympian Jupiter himself! I'll take care of your eight inch ringlets and your two cent master into the bargain.

I'll have my teeth into you, either you'll cut out the laughing, or I don't know myself.

Yes, even if you had a golden beard.
I'll bring the wrath of Minerva down on you and on the fellow that first made a come-here out of you.

No, I never learned geometry or criticism or other foolishness like that, but I know my capital letters and I can divide any figure by a hundred, be it in asses, pounds or sesterces.
Let's have a show-down, you and I will make a little bet, here's my coin; you'll soon find out that your father's money was wasted on your education, even if you do know a little rhetoric.