Ill Wéede Growth Fast.

Be Of Comfort, And Your Heavy Sorrow Part Equally Among Us; Storms Divided, Abate Their Force, And With Less Rage Are Guided.

Love Me Litle, Love Me Long.

It Had Need To Bee A Wylie Mouse That Should Breed In The Cats Eare.

There Is No Fyre Without Some Smoke.

She Is Nether Fish Nor Flesh, Nor Good Red Herring.