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Amanda

Or, The Reformed Whore. Composed, and made by Thomas Cranley

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The Author to his Booke.

Goe little Booke, the issue of my braine.
Begot in bondage, now at last made free:
To keepe thee still in prison, 'twere in vaine.
Make triall how the world will favour thee,
If none receive thee turne againe to me.
I am no starter, here thou shalt me finde,
Shift for thy selfe, be gone, thou knowst my minde.
But whether shall I have thee goe at first?
Vnto the Criticke? no, let him alone.
Many are bad, but he of all is worst.
I'de rather thou should'st die, and goe to none,
Be sure avoide his hands, of any one.
Shun Momus too, lest he at thee doe carpe,
And Zoilus for his rebukes are sharpe.
Avoide their sight, and then goe where thou wilt,
Thy meaning's good, how ere it take effect,
Although with words of art thou art not guilt.
Some, thy unlearned plainenesse will respect,
And perchance fancie this thy Dialect.
That may please some, which will not profit all,
Although thy lines are not didacticall.
Chiefely, I send thee to the female sexe,
Whom I doe truely honour, and regard:
Thy ready service shall attend their becks,
Without expecting profit, or reward:
Oh that some one, would take thee to their guard.


Mayst thou please them (as I could wish it so)
I care not if the rest be pleas'd, or no.
In thy first interprize, thou conquerd'st one,
And drag'd her by thy force out of the mire.
Let that encourage thee, and suffer none
To shun thy strong encounter, till thou try her,
Boldly goe on, and neither faint nor tyre.
God knowes, so happy the successe may be,
To one resisting, thou mayst conquer three.
Thou hast thy charge, and now thou mayst be gone.
Goe to the Countrey, City, and the Court:
They all yeeld matter for to worke upon.
I send in earnest, goe not thou in sport;
To great aswell as meane doe thou resort.
If so thou be esteem'd of any worth,
I shall be glad that ere I sent thee forth.