To The Counsell Of Fooles A Woodden

He That Will Learn To Pray, Let Him Go To Sea.

The Tree That God Plants, No Winde Hurts It.

Without Businesse Debauchery.

When A Knave Is In A Plumtree He Hath Neither Friend Nor Kin.

For A Morning Raine Leave Not Your Journey. [for A Morning Rain Leave Not Your Journey.]