Farewell, Good Salisbury, And Good Luck Go

Thy Food Is Such As Hath Been Belch'd On By Infected Lungs.

Good Wine Needs No Bush.

What Fates Impose, That Men Must Needs Abide; It Boots Not To Resist Both Wind And Tide.

Yet But Three Come One More. Two Of Both Kinds Make Up Four. Ere She Comes Curst And Sad. Cupid Is A Knavish Lad. Thus To Make Poor Females Mad.

Ten Kisses Short As One, One Long As Twenty.