Security is the chief enemy of mortals.
Away, you cut-purse rascal! you filthy bung, away! By this wine, I'll thrust my knife in your mouldy chaps, an you play the saucy cuttle with me. Away, you bottle-ale rascal! you basket-hilt stale juggler, you!
Jesters do oft prove prophets.
The leopard does not change his spots.
Men's vows are women's traitors
He is winding the watch of his wit; by and by it will strike.