A City That Parlies Is Half Gotten.

The Worst Speak Something Good; If All Want Sense, God Takes A Text, And Preacheth Patience.

Take Heede Of An Oxe Before, Of An Horse Behind, Of A Monke On All Sides.

To The Counsell Of Fooles A Woodden Bell.

For A Morning Raine Leave Not Your Journey. [for A Morning Rain Leave Not Your Journey.]

Least At Thine Own Things Laugh.