King Lear: What is your name? Kent / Caius: Caius. King Lear: And whence do you hale? Kent / Caius: From Bonking, Sire. King Lear: Well, yes, lad as … - Christopher Moore

King Lear: How hath my fool offended?
Regan: He hath shagged me roughly, against my will, and finished too soon.
King Lear: By force- Pocket? He isn't eight-stone on a feast day- he couldn't shag a cat by force.
Pocket: That's not true, sire. If the cat is distracted with a trout, then - well, uh, never mind.

The Ghost: I'm sorry to haunt you while you're rogering the help.
Pocket: The rogering has not commenced, wisp. I have barely bridled the horse for a moist and bawdy ride. Now, go away!

Heinous fuckery most foul!