Marry A Widdow Before She Leave Mourning.

Marry A Widdow Before She Leave Mourning.

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?

Money Wants No Followers.

It's More Paine To Doe Nothing Then Something.

Hee That Hath A Fox For His Mate, Hath Neede Of A Net At His Girdle.