In the dead vast and middle of the night.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): Hamlet. Act i. Sc. 2.

Beat all your feathers as flat down as pancakes.

Thomas Middleton (1580-1627): The Roaring Girl. Act i. Sc. 1.

Flat burglary as ever was committed.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): Much Ado about Nothing. Act iv. Sc. 2.

Th' ethereal mould

Incapable of stain would soon expel

Her mischief, and purge off the baser fire,

Victorious. Thus repuls'd, our final hope

Is flat despair.

John Milton (1608-1674): Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 139.

Virtue could see to do what virtue would

By her own radiant light, though sun and moon

Were in the flat sea sunk. And Wisdom's self

Oft seeks to sweet retired solitude,

Where with her best nurse Contemplation

She plumes her feathers and lets grow her wings,

That in the various bustle of resort

Were all-to ruffled, and sometimes impair'd.

He that has light within his own clear breast

May sit i' th' centre and enjoy bright day;

But he that hides a dark soul and foul thoughts

Benighted walks under the midday sun.

John Milton (1608-1674): Comus. Line 373.