[5.]In my conceit Sir John, you were to blame,
To make a quiet good wife, a mad dame.
[26.] Some Gentlemen were sitting at a Coffee-house together, one was asking what News there was? T'other told him, There was forty thousand Men rose to day, which made them all stare about, and asked him to what end they rose, and what did they intend? Why faith, says he, only to go to bed at Night again.
Of Milo the Glutton.
[6.]Milo with haste to cram his greedy gut,
One of his thumbs into the bone had cut.
Then straight, it noysed was about by some,
That he had lost his stomacke with his thumbe.
To which one said. No worse hap fall unto him,
But, if a poore man finde it, 'twill undo him.