The Bride | Page 6

such as we:
That will not keepe them from the charmers charme?Mens flatteries doe maiden-heads much harme.
Bride.
Flatterers are of all to be reiected,?As well of wiues as you that are but maydes,?We praise not faults wherewith men are infected,?Nor yeeld applause to euery one perswades:
Our praysing men thus vnderstand you must,?Tis meant of those are honest, louing, iust.
Why there are men doe erre in what you hold,?Chast batchelers that neuer meane to match,?Who for the siugle life smooth tales haue told,?And yet the fleshly knaues will haue a snatch:
Ile ne're trust those that of themselues doe boast,?The great'st presisians will deceiue you most.
I knew a prating fellow would maintaine,?A married man had but two merry dayes,?His wedding day the ioyfull first of twaine,?For then God giue you ioy, euen all men sayes:
The second merry day of married life,?Is that whereon he burieth his wife.
And woemen vnto shippes he would compare,?Saying as they continually lacke mending,?So wiues still out of repairations are,?And vrge their husbands daily vnto spending:
Yea worse disgrace, he would presume to speake:?Which I will spare, least I offend the weake.
But note the badnesse of this wretches life,?That counted woemen abiect things forsaken,?He raune away at last with's neighbours wife,?Worthy of hanging were the rascall taken:
Such odious actes haue such dishonest mates,?that against marriage, rude and senceles prates.
But you most wilfull wenches that oppose,?Against the state that you are borne to honour,?A prophesie vnto you Ile disclose,?And she that here doth take most nice vpon her:
Pray note it well, for there is matter in it,?And for to doe you good thus I beginne it.
When fish with fowle change elements together,?The one forsaking aire, the other water,?And they that woare the finne, to weare the feather,?Remaining changelings all the worlds time after:
The course of nature will be so beguilde,?One maide shall get another maide with childe.
When euery Crow shall turne to be a Parret,?And euery Starre out-shine the glorious Sunne,?And the new water works runne white and clarret,?That come to towne by way of Islington,
Woemen and men shall quite renounce each other.?And maides shall bee with childe, like Merlins mother.
Grace.
Like Merlins mother, how was that I pray,?For I haue heard he was a cunning man,?There lines not snch another at this day,
Nor euer was, since Brittans first began:?Tell vs the story, and we well will minde it.?Because they say, In written bookes we finde it.
Bride.
Marry this Merlins mother was welsh Lady,?That liued in Carnaruan beautious maide,?And loue of Lords and Knights shee did not way by,?But set all light, and euery one denay'd:
All Gentlemen, (as all you knowe be there,)?That came a wooing were no wit the neere.
At length it hapned that this gallant girle,?Which scorned all men that she euer saw,?Holding her selfe to be a matchlesse Pearle,?And such a Loadestone that could Louers draw:
Grew belly-full, exceeding bigge and plumpe,?Which put her Mayden-credit in a dumpe.
Time running course, and her full stomacke fed,?When consumation of fewe months expired,?Shee husbandlesse, a mayde was brought to bed,?Of that rare Merlin that the world admired:
This to be honest, all her friends did doubt it,?Much prittle prattle was in Wales about it.
So that ere long, the strangnes of the thing,?To heare that Lady Adhan had a childe,?Caus'd famous Arthur (being Brittans King)?Send for her to the Court, and reason milde:
To know how this rare matter could be done,?And make her finde a father for her sonne.
She told his Maiestie with sighes and teares,?That keeping beautie carefull from the Sunne,?Within her chamber safely shut from feares,?Till Phoebus horses to the West were runne:
The doores fast lock'd, and she her selfe alone,?Came in a gallant stranger, meere vnknowne.
Who euer came in courting manner to her,?With all the louing courage could be thought:?So powerfull in perswasions force to woe her,?That to his will constrained she was brought:
Although her heart did firme deniall vow,?Yet she was forc'd to yeeld and knew not how.
So oft he came (quoth she) priuate and strange,?When I shut vp my selfe in most sad humor,?That I began to finde an inward change,?Which brought me quickly to an outward tumor:
An't please your highnes I was in such case,?That to the world I durst not show my face.
My foes reioyced, all my friends were sad,?My selfe in sorrow spent both day and night,?No satisfaction my wrong'd honour had,?Was neuer maide in such perplexed plight:
To be with child whether I will or no,?And for my child, no humane father know.
Had I bin married (quoth she) as I ought,?And with my loue, the loue of man requited,?I had not to this woefull state bin brought,?In all contempt, disgracefully despighted:
And tearmed strumpet by the rude vnciuill,?Who say my sonne is bastard to the diuell.
Wherefore I wish Ladies of my degree,?And all the rest inferiour sorts of maydes,?To take a warning (for their good) by me,?Yeelding affection when kind