You May Be On Land, Yet Not

The More Women Looke In Their Glasse, The Lesse They Looke To Their House. [the More Women Look In Their Glass, The Less They Look To Their House.]

Where There Is No Honour, There Is No Griefe.

Were It Not For The Bone In The Legge, All The World Would Turne Carpenters (to Make Them Crutches).

The Crow Bewailes The Sheepe, And Then Eates It.

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?