Hee That Lives Well Is

Were There No Hearers, There Would Be No Backbiters.

Good Newes May Bee Told At Any Time, But Ill In The Morning.

A Dead Bee Maketh No Hony.

A Woman Conceales What Shee Knowes Not.

Shall I, To Please Another Wine-sprung Minde, Lose All Mine Own? God Hath Giv'n Me A Measure Short Of His Can And Body; Must I Find A Pain In That, Wherein He Finds A Pleasure?