Their degrees of consanguinity and alliance are very strange; for being thus akin and allied to one another, we found that none was either father or mother, brother or sister, uncle or aunt, nephew or niece, son-in-law or daughter-in-law, godfather or godmother, to the other; unless, truly, a tall flat-nosed old fellow, who, as I perceived, called a little shitten-arsed girl of three or four years old, father, and the child called him daughter.
Their distinction of degrees of kindred was thus: a man used to call a woman, my lean bit; the woman called him, my porpoise.

Those, said Friar John, must needs stink damnably of fish when they have rubbed their bacon one with the other.

One, smiling on a young buxom baggage, said, Good morrow, dear currycomb.

She, to return him his civility, said, The like to you, my steed.

Ha! ha! ha! said Panurge, that is pretty well, in faith; for indeed it stands her in good stead to currycomb this steed.