All's not Gospell that comes out of his mouth.
His words are but wind.
Nothing but Say-soes.
Many talke of Robin Hood that never shot in's bow.
Can't you farewell but you must cry roast?
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All's not Gospell that comes out of his mouth.
His words are but wind.
Nothing but Say-soes.
Many talke of Robin Hood that never shot in's bow.
Can't you farewell but you must cry roast?
A man may love his house well and yet not ride on the ridge.
He bellow•• like a bull, but is as weake as a bull∣rush —
Much branne and little meale.
Weare a horne and blow it not.
He loves to heare himself speake.
Great barkers are no bi∣ters.
Brag's a good dog.
The greatest talkers, are not the greatest doers.
He is poore, can promise nothing.
Every cocke's proud on 's own dunghill.
He's where he would be.
He brags as if he had har∣rowed hell.
He that useth to lie, is not alwayes beleeved when he sayes true.
He swaggers as though the whole towne was his owne.
You brag of many good morrowes.
Greene thoughts and great minds.
Among the common people Scoggin's a doctor.
Keepe your winde to coole your porridge.
He spake of a fox, but when all came to all, it was but a ferne brake.
Doeth he doe as he sayes?
He's good at words, is he so at swords?
As proud as a peacocke.
He puts himself into the number of onyons, but is not worth a scallion.
He makes a great show, but's not worth a great.
Empty vessells make the greatest sound.
He thinkes hee's now a fine fellow.
Great cry and little wooll.
Great boast and small rost.
Bare words are no lawfull bargaine.
I'le out vie him with bid∣ding.