Nicholas Udall, Thersytes (London: William Tysdale, 1562):

  Thersites.  When I consider my shoulders that so brode be
When the other partes of my bodye I do beholde
I verely thynke that none in chrystente
With me to medele dare be so bolde
O good lorde howe brode is my brest
And stronge with all for hole is my chest
He that should medle with me shall haue shrewde rest
Beholde you my handes, my legges and my feete
Euery parte is stronge proportionable and mete

John Lyly, Campaspe (London: Thomas Dawson for Thomas Cadman, 1584):

[Melip.] I came to Plato and to Aristotle, and to diuerse other none refusing to come, sauing an old obscure fellowe, who sitting in a tub turned towardes the sonne, read Greek to a young boy, him when I willed to appeare before Alexander, he answered, if Alexander would faine see me, let him come to me, if learne of mee, lette him come to me, whatsoe|uer it be, let him come to me: why, said I, he is a king, hee answered, why I am a Philosopher, why, but he is Alexander, I but I am Diogenes. I was halfe angry to see one so crooked in his shape, to be so crabbed in his sayinges. So going my way, I said thou shalt repent it, if thou commest not to Alexander: nay, smiling answered hee, Alexander may repent it, if he come not to Diogenes: vertue must be sought, not offered: and so turning himself to his cell, he grunted I know not what, like a pig vnder a tub. (1.3)

  Arist.  Thou hast reason to contemn the court, being both in bodye and minde too crooked for a courtier.
  Diog.  As good bee crooked, and endeuour to make my selfe straight from the court, as to bee straighte, and learne to be crooked at the court. (1.3)

John Lyly, Sapho and Phao (London: Thomas Cadman, 1584):

[Venus]  What doth Vulcan all day but endeuour to be as crabbed in maners, as he is crooked in body? (1.1)

George Peele, The Araygnement of Paris (London: Henrie Marsh, 1584):

  Ven.  Shepherdes abde, let Colins corps bee wittnes of the paine
That Thestilis endures in loue, a plague for her dysdaine.
Beholde the organ of our wrathe, this rusty churle is hee,
She dotes on his yllfauored face, so muche accurst is shee.
She singeth an old songe called the woing of Colman.
A foule croked Churle enters & Thestilis a faire lasse wooeth him. he crabedly refuzeth her, and goethe out of place. (3.5)
Vulcan following one of Dianas Nymphs.
  Vul.  Why nymphe, what need ye run so fast? what though but black I be?
I haue more preetie knackes to please, then euerie eye doth see·
And though I goe not so vpright, and though I am a smith,
To make me gratious you may haue some other thinge therewith. (4.1)

The True Tragedie of Richard the Third (London: Thomas Creede, 1594):

  Poe.  What maner of man was this Richard Duke of Gloster?
  Tru.  A man ill shaped, crooked backed, lame armed, withal,
Valiantly minded, but tyrannous in authoritie. (A4)

William Shakespeare, 3 Henry VI (1590-91), in The Riverside Shakespeare, ed. G. Blakemore Evans and J. J. M. Tobin, 2nd ed. (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1997):

[Glou.]  Why, love forswore me in my mother’s womb;
And for I should not deal in her soft laws,
She did corrupt frail nature with some bribe,
To shrink mine arm up like a wither’d shrub,
To make an envious mountain on my back,
Where sits deformity to mock my body;
To shape my legs of an unequal size,
To disproportion me in every part,
Like to a chaos, or an unlick’d bear-whelp
That carries no impression like the dam.
And am I then a man to be belov’d?
O monstrous fault, to harbor such a thought!
Then since this earth affords no joy to me
But to command, to check, to o’erbear such
As are of better person than myself,
I’ll make my heaven to dream upon the crown,
And whiles I live, t’ account this world but hell,
Until my misshap’d trunk that bears this head
Be round impaled with a glorious crown. (3.2.153-71)