There's nothing left but to dream of her." While thus soliloquising, kicking the pebbles as an accompaniment to his thoughts, Vane neared the corner of Moor Fields leading to Cripples Gate and was pounced upon by a couple of noisy fellows, friends of his, who, newly sprung with wine, would have him go with them to the "Bear and Staff" close to the Gate.
"No--no," protested Vane, "I'm not in the mood." "The very reason why you should drink," quoth one.
"But I've sworn not to touch a drop of anything stronger than coffee or chocolate for a week.

I had too much port last night." "Worse and worse.

Hang it man, whatever you may have been at Oxford University you are no disputant now.

Your resolution to be virtuous for a week won't last a day unless you strengthen it.

And what strengthens the wit more than wine ?" "Get thee gone Satan.