Were There No Fooles, Badd Ware Would

A Blustering Night, A Faire Day. [a Blustering Night, A Fair Day.]

Presents Of Love Fear Not To Be Ill Taken Of Strangers.

The Scalded Head Feares Cold Water.

Shall I, To Please Another Wine-sprung Minde, Lose All Mine Own? God Hath Giv'n Me A Measure Short Of His Can And Body; Must I Find A Pain In That, Wherein He Finds A Pleasure?

Shewa Good Man His Errour And He Turnes It To A Vertue, But An Ill, It Doubles His Fault.