Modesty Sets Off One Newly Come To

He That Goeth Farre Hath Many Encounters.

Gold Thou Mayst Safely Touch; But If It Stick Unto Thy Hands, It Woundeth To The Quick.

No Day So Clear But Hath Dark Clouds.

He Plaies Well That Winnes. [he Plays Well That Wins.]

Money, Thou Bane Of Bliss, And Source Of Woe, Whence Cam'st Thou, That Thou Art So Fresh And Fine? I Know Thy Parentage Is Base And Low: Man Found Thee Poor And Dirty In A Mine.