Go to, thou art a used wineskin, a wasted bit of boarfat not meet for hounds. Thou knowest full thou didst mistake thy where and thy wherefore, wherefore thou dost in giant clouds of drivel raise protest. Wert thou a candle thou wouldst shed no light; a cupboard, an' thou wouldst be bare; a glass, then empty of all good sport. Go thou to the Father and confess thy sins in good faith and be thou well-shrived, ere thou turn well-shriveled. Go to, thou clubfoot, thou jackanapes. Get thee to confession.