Pitee Renneth Soone In Gentil Herte.

At The Ches With Me She (fortune) Gan To Pleye; With Her False Draughts (pieces) Dyvers/she Staal On Me, And Took Away My Fers. And When I Sawgh My Fers Awaye, Allas! I Kouthe No Lenger Playe.

With Empty Hand No Man Can Lure A Hawk.

With Emptie Hands Men May No Haukes Lure.

To Maken Vertue Of Necessite.

Trouthe Is The Hyest Thyng That Man May Kepe.