The Bride | Page 4

still I keepe, & meane to shew his betters.
In Romane hand, on guilded paper writ,?Pray Dorothy read you it to the rest,?But whether his owne head inuented it,?Or robd some printed Booke, I doe protest:
I cannot tell, but his owne name is to it,?Which proues he takes vpon him for to doe it.

The Loue Letter.
_The truest heart, shall nought but falshood cherish,?The mildest man, a cruell tyrant prooue,?The water drops, the hardest flint shall perish,?The hilles shall walke, and massie earth remooue:
The brightest Sun shall turne to darkesome clowde,?Ere I prooue false, where I my loue haue vowde._
_Ere I prooue false, the world desolu'd shall be,?To that same nothing that it was before,?Ere I prooue false mine eyes shall cease to see,?And breath of life shall breath in me no more:
The strong built frame shall moue from his foundation?Ere I remoue my soules determination._
_Death shall forget to kill, and men to dye,?Condemned soules shall laugh, and cease to mourne,?The lowest hell shall rise and meete the skye,?Time shall forget his course and backe returne:
Contrary vnto kinde each thing shall proue,?Ere I be false or once forget my loue._
_Oh then deare heart regard my sad estate,?My passions griefe and wofull lamentation,?Oh pittie me ere pittie come too late,?That hold thee deare past mans imagination:
Preserue my life and say that thou wilt haue me,?Or else I die the whole world cannot saue me_.
Grace.
This is a Ballad I haue heard it sung.
Doll.
Well, be or be not, that's not to the matter,?But who will trust a louers pen or tongue,?That vse all protestations thus to flatter:
For this base fellow that was so perplext,?Sent this one monday, and was married next.
Sara.
Now out vpon him most dissembling creature,?Ile warrant you that he can neuer thriue,?He showes himselfe, euen of as bad a nature,?As euer was in any man aliue:
Alas poore foole that hath this fellow got,?Shee hath a Iewell of him, hath she not?
Nell.
Yes surely hath she, (waying all things deepe,)?A louer that will tast as sweete as gall,?One that is better farre to hang then keepe,?And I perswade me you doe thinke so all:
Excepting onely partiall Mistris Bride,?For she stands stoutly to the married side.
Bride.
So farre as reason, and as right requires,?I will defend them both by word and deede,?Yet haue I no apology for lyers,?And ill conditions that false hearts doe breede:
"All that are married be not faithfull kinde,?Nor all vnmarried, are not chast in minde."
Are there not maids (vpon your coscience speake?)?Knowne to your selues as well as you knowe me,?Will vowe their loue to men, and falsly breake,?Which in the number of your Virgins be,
That will delude some halfe a score young men,?And hauing gull'd them, take some other then.
I will not name her was in loue with ten,?But in your eares i'le note her secret; harke,?She had both Courtiers, Cockneys, Country-men,?Yet in the ende a Saylor boards her Barke:
And therefore put not men in all the blame,?But speake the trueth, and so the diuell shame.
Grace.
I knowe the partie well that you doe meane,?And thus much for her I dare boldly say,?To diuers sutors though she seemed to leane,?To trye her fortunes out the wisest way:
Yet did she neuer plight her faith to any,?But vnto him she had, among so many:
And ther's no doubt but diuers doe as she,?Your selfe in conscience, haue had more then one,?To whom in shewe you would familiar be,?And comming to the point why you would none:?Ciuilitie allowes a courteous cariage,?To such as proffer loue by way of marriage.
An affable behauiour may be vsed,?And kinde requitall answere kinde deseart,?And yet no honest man thereby abused,?With fained showes, as if he had the heart:
When there is purpose of no such intent?To gull him with his time and mony spent.
Mall.
Were I to giue maides counsell, they to take it,?And that they would consent to doe as I,?Who offered us his loue, we would forsake it,?And like Dianes Nymphs would liue and die:
For I protest your louers should haue none,?But wiues and widdowes to put tricks vpon.
We would reuenge the crafty double dealing,?Thousands of harmelesse virgins doe endure,?By their deceitfull art of kinde-hart stealing,?Keeping our loues vnto our selues secure:
And credit to their vowes, should be no other,?But in at one eare, and goe out at t'other.
Bride.
This you would doe, and y'are in that minde now,?But I perswade me tis but rashly spoken,?And therefore Mary make no foolish vow,?For if you doe in conscience t'will be broken:
Say you doe meane to keepe you free from man,?But to be sure, still put in If you can.
Or else you may presume aboue your power,?Twixt words and deedes, great difference often growes,?You may be taken such a louing hower,?Your heart may all be Cupids to dispose:
Then vve shall haue you sicke, & pine and grieue,?And nothing but a husband can relieue.
Aske but your