A House And A Woman Sute Excellently.

He That Lies With The Dogs, Riseth With Fleas.

He That's Long A Giving, Knowes Not How To Give.

Sorrow Was All My Soul; I Scarce Believed, Till Grief Did Tell Me Roundly, That I Lived.

To A Crafty Man, A Crafty And An Halfe.

He That Hath Love In His Brest, Hath Spurres In His Sides.