Thou Art The Mars Of Malcontents.

O, Men's Vows Are Women's Traitors! All Good Seeming, By Thy Revolt, O Husband, Shall Be Thought Put On For Villainy, Not Born Where't Grows, But Worn A Bait For Ladies.

What's His Offense? Groping For Trout In A Peculiar River.

There Is No Slander In An Allowed Fool, Though He Do Nothing But Rail.

All That Glitters Is Not Gold.

They Are Hare-brain'd Slaves.