Covetousnesse Breaks The Bag.

Well May Hee Smell Fire, Whose Gowne Burnes.

Pull Downe Your Hatt On The Winds Side.

There Are Three Waies, The Vniversities, The Sea, The Court.

He Hath Great Neede Of A Foole, That Plaies The Foole Himselfe.

Storms Make The Oak Grow Deeper Roots.