Certayn chapters take[n] out of the Proverbs of Salomo[n] wyth other chapters of the holy Scripture; & certayne Psalmes of David, translated into English metre, by Iohn Hall. Whych Proverbes of late were set forth, Imprinted and untruely entituled, to be thee doynges of Mayster Thomas Sternhold ... as by thys Copye it may be perceaved |
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The .ix. chapter of Ecclesiasticus. |
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 | Certayn chapters take[n] out of the Proverbs of Salomo[n] |  |
The .ix. chapter of Ecclesiasticus.
Argumentum. Chap. ix.
Howe that men shuld behaue them selfewyth wyues that be theyr owne
An olde frende is the beste of all
for he is truelye knowen.
Be
not gelous ouer thy wyfe
But kepe thi house wtoutē strife
That she shew not some poīt of yl
Of wicked doctrine the to spil
Geue not thy power, nor yet thy lyfe
Unto an whore that maketh stryfe
Lest she redound wtin thy strength
And so cōfound thy soule at length
Loke yu not then on women nought
That vpō men set al theyr thoughte
But vpon soch set not thy care
Lest that she twiche the in her snare
Se thou eschew thy selfe alwaye
From her that vse to daunce & playe
Heare thou her not in any wyse
Tho she full oft do the intyse
Behold not a mayde, I say to the
Lest thou be dismayd of her beautie
Cast not thy mynd on harlots then
Nor on thee kynde of euyll women
Lest thou destroy thy self in age
And eke anoy thyne herytage
Be not gasinge I say to the
At euerye thynge in the cytye
Do not wander in euery strete
And turne away thy face her fro
The womā gay wil work moch wo
And loke not on the great beauty
Of any one vnknowen to the
For many mē the whych dyd stare
On strāge womē that were so faire
Were perished through their desire
Which kindled lyke burnyng fyre
An aduouterous woman wyth yre
She shalbe thus trodē in the myre
Under the feete as dort and clay
Of all that goeth vpon the waye
Many a man wonder haue had
of a strāge womā were thei not mad
Yes for they were as cleane outcast
Her wordes did fare as a fiery blast
Thus kepe the styl in godly lyfe
Set not thi wil on āother mās wife
Syt not wyth her at any sted
Lye not with her vpon the bed
No talke wt her make thou at wine
Lest that to her yu shuldest enclyne
And so thou & thy bloude shuld fall
And on the land destroyed all
Forsake not you a good olde frend
For such a new thou shalt not fynd
For a new frēd is like new wyne
Which is not kind tyl it be fyne
Let him be old then shalt yu be sure
To drīke hī be bold wt great plesure
Do not desyre, the honour therfore
That a sinner doth kepe in store
Thou doest not know ye destructyō
The which doth flow & come thē on
kepe yu fro ye mā ye hath power to stay
Thou nedest not thā of death to fraye
And se yu make wt him no strife
Lest that he take frō the lyfe
Remēber how in the cytye
Thou styl doest go in ieopardie
And take good hede of an euyl neybor
Lest wt his dede he ye deuoure
With wyse men be in companye
It shal do the, greate honestie
Let iust mē be, thy gestes alwayes
And merely, geue god the prayse
Se euer styl, that thou be kynde
And wt good wyl, kepe god in mind
Let all the wordes, with good intēt
Be on the lordes, commaūdement
The craftsmā, maketh gorgious ende
Al other then, doeth it cōmend
Princes that rule, their people well
Ful oft they wyl of wysdom tel
A mā that many wordes doeth vse
A wyse mā than, wyl them refuse
For such a one I say to the
Doth make moch mone, in a cytye
Ther is so moch tymeryte
Without it, such men can not be
He is past shame, I say therfore
Mē shal him blame, and eke habore
But kepe thi house wtoutē strife
That she shew not some poīt of yl
Of wicked doctrine the to spil
Geue not thy power, nor yet thy lyfe
Unto an whore that maketh stryfe
Lest she redound wtin thy strength
And so cōfound thy soule at length
Loke yu not then on women nought
That vpō men set al theyr thoughte
But vpon soch set not thy care
Lest that she twiche the in her snare
Se thou eschew thy selfe alwaye
From her that vse to daunce & playe
Heare thou her not in any wyse
Tho she full oft do the intyse
Behold not a mayde, I say to the
Lest thou be dismayd of her beautie
Cast not thy mynd on harlots then
Lest thou destroy thy self in age
And eke anoy thyne herytage
Be not gasinge I say to the
At euerye thynge in the cytye
Do not wander in euery strete
And turne away thy face her fro
The womā gay wil work moch wo
And loke not on the great beauty
Of any one vnknowen to the
For many mē the whych dyd stare
On strāge womē that were so faire
Were perished through their desire
Which kindled lyke burnyng fyre
An aduouterous woman wyth yre
She shalbe thus trodē in the myre
Under the feete as dort and clay
Of all that goeth vpon the waye
Many a man wonder haue had
of a strāge womā were thei not mad
Yes for they were as cleane outcast
Her wordes did fare as a fiery blast
Thus kepe the styl in godly lyfe
Set not thi wil on āother mās wife
Lye not with her vpon the bed
No talke wt her make thou at wine
Lest that to her yu shuldest enclyne
And so thou & thy bloude shuld fall
And on the land destroyed all
Forsake not you a good olde frend
For such a new thou shalt not fynd
For a new frēd is like new wyne
Which is not kind tyl it be fyne
Let him be old then shalt yu be sure
To drīke hī be bold wt great plesure
Do not desyre, the honour therfore
That a sinner doth kepe in store
Thou doest not know ye destructyō
The which doth flow & come thē on
kepe yu fro ye mā ye hath power to stay
Thou nedest not thā of death to fraye
And se yu make wt him no strife
Lest that he take frō the lyfe
Remēber how in the cytye
Thou styl doest go in ieopardie
And take good hede of an euyl neybor
Lest wt his dede he ye deuoure
With wyse men be in companye
Let iust mē be, thy gestes alwayes
And merely, geue god the prayse
Se euer styl, that thou be kynde
And wt good wyl, kepe god in mind
Let all the wordes, with good intēt
Be on the lordes, commaūdement
The craftsmā, maketh gorgious ende
Al other then, doeth it cōmend
Princes that rule, their people well
Ful oft they wyl of wysdom tel
A mā that many wordes doeth vse
A wyse mā than, wyl them refuse
For such a one I say to the
Doth make moch mone, in a cytye
Ther is so moch tymeryte
Without it, such men can not be
He is past shame, I say therfore
Mē shal him blame, and eke habore
Thus endeth the .ix. chap. of Ecclesiasticus, and here after foloweth
the .iii. chapter of the second epystle of Saynte Paul to the Thessalonyans.
| Certayn chapters take[n] out of the Proverbs of Salomo[n] | |