The Wound Of Peace Is Surety, Surety

Promising Is The Very Air O' Th' Time; It Opens The Eyes Of Expectation. Performance Is Ever Duller For His Act; And, But In The Plainer And Simpler Kind Of People, The Deed Of Saying Is Quite Out Of Use. To Promise Is Most Courtly And Fashionable; Performance Is A Kind Of Will Or Testament Which Argues A Great Sickness In His Judgment That Makes It.

This Fellow Pecks Up Wit, As Pigeons Peas; And Utters It Again When God Doth Please: He Is Wit's Pedler; And Retails His Wares.

Sound Trumpets! Let Our Bloody Colours Wave! And Either Victory, Or Else A Grave.

We Must Take The Current When It Serves, Or Lose Our Ventures.

An Old Black Ram Is Tupping Your White Ewe