Some humor after a poet/playwright of some years past.  Bonus points if you can identify the person.

A most notable coward, an infinite and endless liar, an hourly promise breaker, the owner of no one good quality.

His wit’s as thick as a Tewkesbury mustard.

I’ll beat thee, but I would infect my hands.

More of your conversation would infect my brain.

Thine face is not worth sunburning.

Regarding a letter:

By my life, this is my lady’s hand these be her
very C’s, her U’s and her T’s and thus makes she her
great P’s.

Regarding the location of a certain…gentleman:

First Man. Now, Second Man, where’s Third Man?
Second Man. At supper.
First Man. At supper! Where?
Second Man. Not where he eats, but where he is eaten….
First Man. Where is Third Man?
Second Man. In heaven; send hither to see: if your messenger find him not there, seek him i’ the other place yourself. But indeed, if you find him not within this month, you shall nose him as you go up the stairs into the lobby.

OK, and from a ringer:

Money can’t buy love, but it improves your bargaining position.