Virtue Is Beauty, But The Beauteous Evil.

Do Not Spread The Compost On The Weeds.

Where The Greater Malady Is Fixed, The Lesser Is Scarce Felt.

I Am A Great Eater Of Beef, And I Believe That Does Harm To My Wit.

I Am In Blood Stepp'd In So Far, That, Should I Wade No More, Returning Were As Tedious As Go O'er.

God Mark Thee To His Grace! Thou Was The Prettiest Babe That E'er I Nursed. And Might I Live To See Thee Married Once, I Have My Wish.