For whan I gaue you an ynche, ye tooke an ell.

Set the cart before the hors.

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Ye can not sée the wood for trées.

Let the world slide, let the world go;
A fig for care, and a fig for woe!
If I can't pay, why I can owe,
And death makes equal the high and low.

She speaketh as she would créepe into your bosome. And when the meale mouth hath woon the bottome of your stomake, than will the pickthanke it tell To your most enmies, you to bye and fell. To tell tales out of schoole, that is hir great lust. Looke what she knowth, blab it wist, out it must.

A woman hath nyne lyues like a cat.

He that will not whan he may, Whan he would, he shall haue nay.