[The Courte of Vertu :: :: University of Virginia Library

Ye women and maydes of Citie & country,
Leue your leude lightnes, lerne som honesty
If an of you the truth wyll regarde,
Spoke wyth simplicitie, let it be hearde.

And heare not only, but folowe the same,
Lest God discouer you to your great shame.
Remember your synnes, and rufully rue,
Lest after this barker a byter insue.

In Esay the prophete there may you fynde,
The plages yt for proude womē God hath assignde
The daughters of Syon (sayth he in that place)
Do tryp on theyr toes, wyth counterfayt pace,

Wyth stretched out necks, and nyce wanton eies
But now wil I plage them for theyr proude guise
They wold not my voyce here when that I cald,
Therfore for fayre heare they now shalbe bald.

For gyrdles of gold, they shall haue lose bandes,
Theyr husbandes shall fall in thenemies handes.
Theyr beautie shall fade, & they shall waxe dūne,
Theyr faces shall wyther, all burnt wyth sunne.

In stede of gay stomachers that thei now weare
They shall weare sackloth in greate dread & feare.
Theyr brooches and ouches and garlandes gay.
Theyr partlets and pynnes I wyll take away.

Theyr hookes and hedbāds wherin they delight,
Hearlace and fyllets their heades wyth to dyght,
Perles & precious stones, gold wroght by mās art
Gold rings & iewels, wheron was theyr hart.

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Theyr spāgs & their chains, their collers & hooues,
Theyr vales and theyr glasses, & theyr gay gloues,
Bonets and taches, and slyppers so thyn,
Settyng foorth beautie, and shewyng whyte skyn.

Theyr smockes, theyr kerchers, & bracelets also,
And euery thyng els I wyll take them fro.
And for the swete smell that they do now vse,
They shall haue stynkyng that all men refuse.

For theyr great ryches and rayment costly,
They shall be naked and in pouertie.
But leste ye should thynk this is but my mynde,
Reade Esay the third, and there shall ye fynde.

Whether that your lyfe from vertue rebell,
Or if it accord to Christ his gospell.
For I can not thynke but then ye shall see,
That ten tymes as prowde as they were you be:

For whyche ye deserue (ye can not deney)
To be plagued ten tymes as muche as they.
For Christ in the Gospell playnly discust,
Who so dothe a woman see, and doth hee lust.

Hath presently in adultery done synne.
Then wo be to suche as trayne men therin.
For yf a mans eyes to lust do hym moue,
The woman dothe cause it, as I can proue.

For Christ in the gospell also doth say,
Offences must nedes be, thys is no nay,
But wo be to them, through whō they be brought,
That is to say, suche as make men do nought.

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Let women in hart then ryghtly recorde,
If they cause not men to offend the Lord:
Whych all their whole lyfe for naught els prouide
But paynt out them selues of men to be spyde.

As men are adulterers, so are they whores,
That these wais mens souls consumes & deuoures
If they commyt synne that doo but desyre,
Much more do those women through theyr attyre.

Whych curlyng theyr hear, & painting their face
Tempt and entice men, vayne loue to imbrace,
To daly and dance, suche women delyght,
Inuentyng newe tricks, from mornyng to nyght:

In pastyme and play theyr pleasure styll is,
And all the long day to clyp and kisse.
No good wyll suche doo wythin or wythout,
But dasse on theyr tayle, & pricke through a clout.

And some to be small, so streyneth theyr lace,
That they cleane depriue from colour their face
The ryght course of bloud, so stoppyng wythall,
That often they faynt, and to the ground fall.

Yet though theyr smal wast ful oft make thē swoūd
Theyr froks must haue buttocks most mōstrously roūd
Lyke dancyng gyantes they go in the strete,
As though theyr hung houpes about theyr fine fete

That Salomon sayth ryght true styll is it,
That recheles women doo by the way syt,
For suche as go by, they styll doo prepare,
The vnwyse to snarle in theyr wycked snare.

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For women and maydens syt now adayes,
In wyndowes and doores, theyr beautie to praise,
The eyes of suche women thys is no nay,
Dooe wounde foolyshe men that passe by the way:

Whyche is the whole cause (as semeth to me)
That men report of them worse then they be.
For why the scripture doth clerely preferre,
Our gate and behauour to teache what we are.

A tree by hys fruite men truly shall knowe,
And dedes what man is, doo perfectly showe.
When suche perceaue men theyr pryde to despyse:
They leaue theyr old toyes, and new tricks deuise.

The fashion is changed, but streyght they wyll
Haue other newe fangles, worse or as yll:
When I was a boy, I nowe well remember,
(Though I at that tyme of age were but tender)

That women theyr breastes dyd shew & lay out.
And wel was ye mayd whose dugs then wer stoute
Which vsance at fyrst came vp in the stues.
Which mens wyues and daughters after dyd vse.

The preachers at that, then gan out to crye,
And honest men dyd it lothe and defye:
Wherfore they left of that foule synfull guyse,
But streight thei laid down their hear to their eies

So as fast as gods word one synne doth blame,
They deuyse other as yll as the same.
And this varietie of Englyshe folke,
Dothe cause all wyse people vs for to mocke.

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For all discrete nations vnder the sonne,
Do vse at thys day as they fyrst begonne:
And neuer doo change, but styll doo frequent,
Theyr old guyse, what euer fond folkes do inuent.

But we here in England lyke fooles and apes,
Do by our vayne fangles deserue mocks and iapes,
For all kynde of countreys dooe vs deryde,
In no constant custome sythe we abyde.

For we neuer knowe howe in our aray,
We may in fyrme fashion stedfastly stay.
But nowe to my purpose, I mynde not to put,
In no womans head to become a slut.

For though God to pryde haue geuen his curse,
I esteme slutty shenes to be muche worse.
For cleannes is vertue none can denaye,
If pryde and excesse be banysht away.

But change of proude rayment now dayly vsed,
Ought of all good women to be refused.
Thys day my cassocke, to morow my frocke,
Next day my vardygne nyghest my smocke.

Thys day my kyrtell, wyth partlet and gowne,
To morowe a furred cap iust on my crowne,
Next day a veluet cap, or a frenche hoode.
Who can beleue that suche women be good?

Some weare a cheyne, and some a blacke lace,
And colours also to paynt with theyr face:
Wherwith they doo make theyr faces to shyne.
Since god made the world such pride was nere sene

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In doyng of the whyche this is no dout,
The Image of God they blot and put out.
Lo thus are they paynted out to be sold,
With many mo gaudes then here can be told:

Forgettyng obedience, hatyng Gods lawe,
And lyue with theyr makes, without loue or awe.
And many oppressors thys day doth reygne,
That robbe & pyll poore men, wiues to maynteyn.

And fearyng least theyr great pride shold be lesse,
The poore mans cause they wyll neuer redresse
To mayntayne theyr wiues that proud are & nyse,
Lewde lubbers sometyme doo rebell and ryse.

A lowte with a lorde wyll proudely checkmate,
And is not content wyth hys poore estate.
Agaynst men of honour, the person vyle,
Prowdly presumeth, wo worth the whyle,

Boyes agaynst elders preferment dyd take,
And at theyr own wyl wold magistrates make:
For by theyr apparell none can now know,
The hygh estate from the most poore and low.

Eche lasse lyke a lady is clothed in sylke,
That dayly doth go to market with mylke.
Whych neuer theyr port could yet maynteyn well.
Unlesse they were whores, & their husbands steale

Besyde the vndecent maner to see,
That eche one doth go in others degree,
Uayne women loue not the men graue and sage,
But rufflers that rudely raue can, and rage:

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Whose feruent desyre must always prouyde,
To set foorth theyr wyues in pompe and in pryde.
For so that suche women may haue theyr wyll,
They passe not although theyr husbdāes doo spyll.

Such wepe when theyr husbāds be sick in dead,
And turne it to laughter when they be dead.
Wherfore suche proude women are lyke in hell,
To be rewarded with proude Iesabell:

Unlesse they repent, and shortly amend:
Whyche God gyue them grace yet once to intend,
That I myght haue cause yet once in my dayes:
As muche for to wryte to theyr laude and prayse.

For blessed be they that hold them content,
With cleane apparell, honest and decent,
And women bearyng of beautie the name,
Without discrete maners ioynde with the same.

Salomon dothe them no better allowe,
Then a gold ryng in the nose of a sowe.
Therfore let old women honestly lyue,
And good examples to yong women gyue.

That one by an others conuersation,
May learne to leaue theyr abhomination,
That vertuous dedes in those of the Citie,
May be example vnto the countrey.

For they of the countrey euer take hede,
How they of the citie doo weare theyr wede:
Therfore I may say, and so I say wyll,
The Citie is fyrst the Author of yll

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My prayer therfore shalbe day and nyght,
That eche parte may mende and walk here aright,
That I may report the maydes of my countrey,
Thankes be to God haue lerned honestye:
Whyche God graunt me grace, to see in my tyme,
Thus make I an ende, of thys symple ryme.