Affliction Teacheth A Wicked Person Sometime To

Ods Me I Marle What Pleasure Or Felicity They Have In Taking Their Roguish Tobacco. It Is Good For Nothing But To Choke A Man, And Fill Him Full Of Smoke And Embers.

Let Those That Merely Talk And Never Think, That Live In The Wild Anarchy Of Drink

The Poet Is The Nearest Borderer Upon The Orator.

Neither Do Thou Lust After That Tawny Weed Tobacco.

We Are Persons Of Quality, I Assure You, And Women Of Fashion, And Come To See And To Be Seen.