Give Loosers Leave To Talke.

Take Heed Of A Step-mother; The Very Name Of Her Sufficeth.

You Cannot Make A Windmill Go With A Pair Of Bellows.

A Rugged Stone Growes Smooth From Hand To Hand.

To Fine Folkes A Little Ill Finely Wrapt.

O What A Sight Were Man, If His Attires Did Alter With His Minde; And Like A Dolphins Skinne, His Clothes Combin'd With His Desires!