Let None Say, I Will Not Drinke

If Folly Were Griefe Every House Would Weepe. [if Folly Were Grief, Every House Would Weep.]

Take Heed Of A Young Wench, A Prophetesse, And A Lattin Bred Woman.

Fine Dressing Is A Foule House Swept Before The Doores.

Dry Feet, Warme Head, Bring Safe To Bed.

He That Will Not Have Peace, God Gives Him Warre. [he That Will Not Have Peace, God Gives Him War.]