Min Be The Travaille, And Thin Be

Soun Is Noght But Air Ybroken, And Every Speche That Is Spoken, Loud Or Privee, Foul Or Fair, In His Substaunce Is But Air; For As Flaumbe Is But Lighted Smoke, Right So Soun Is Air Ybroke.

Forbid Us Something, And That Thing We Desire.

One Cannot Scold Or Complain At Every Word. Learn To Endure Patiently, Or Else, As I Live And Breathe, You Shall Learn It Whether You Want Or Not.

Take A Cat, Nourish It Well With Milk And Tender Meat, Make It A Couch Of Silk.

Death Is The End Of Every Worldly Pain.