So May He Rest, His Faults Lie

When We Our Betters See Bearing Our Woes, We Scarcely Think Our Miseries Our Foes.

If You Spend Word For Word With Me, I Shall Make Your Wit Bankrupt.

'tis Not To Make Me Jealous To Say My Wife Is Fair, Feeds Well, Loves Company, Is Free Of Speech, Sings, Plays, And Dances Well; Where Virtue Is, These Are More Virtuous.

The Fire Seven Times Tried This; Seven Times Tried That Judgement Is That Did Never Choose Amiss Some There Be That Shadows Kiss; Such Have But A Shadows Bliss, There Be Fool Alive, I Wis Silverd O'er, And So Was This Take What Wife You Will To Bed I Will Ever Be Your Head. So Be Gone; You Are Sped.

What Are You Doing Sister? / Killing Swine.