To A Great Night, A Great Lanthorne.

Whether Shall The Oxe Goe, Where He Shall Not Labour?

There Is No Heat Of Affection But Is Joyned With Some Idlenesse Of Brain, Says The Spaniard.

The Great Put The Little On The Hooke.

Every Bees Hony Is Sweet.

He That Will Do Thee A Good Turne, Either He Will Be Gon Or Dye.