The Wearer Knowes, Where The

Warre Is Deaths Feast.

The Fatt Man Knoweth Not, What The Leane Thinketh.

A Good Heart Cannot Lye

Who Goes To Bed, And Doth Not Pray, Maketh Two Nights To Every Day!

I Had Rather Aske Of My Sire Browne Bread, Then Borrow Of My Neighbour White.