For Washing His Hands, None Sels His

Brabling Curres Never Want Torne Eares.

Hee That Falles Into The Durt, The Longer He Stayes There, The Fowler He Is.

At The Games End We Shall See Who Gaines.

If A Donkey Bray At You, Don't Bray At Him.

Death Keeps No Calendar.