(3)
All modest women these dresses they scorn,
Wherewith these gaukies themselves do adorn,
Which is nothing else but the simptoms of pride,
Or else for the fashion to co’er their din hyde.
The lads when they see them in markets so fine,
He thinks with himself if this lass were but mine,
No fear of riches and gold in great store,
A well mounted lass, and what would he have more.
But mark and you’ll see how the tocher is paid,
When he gets the first night of his beautiful bride,
Next morning the merchants are all at his door,
For the braws that the bride wore seven years before.
And thus begins his sad sorrow and wreck,
In paying the debt which he ne’er did contract,
His prompted up nothing thus did him deceive,
And led him to ruin like old mother Eve.
A woman that’s modest I duly will prize,
For she shines more bright than the stars in the skies,
While by a lew’d woman you may see indeed,
How a man he is brought to a morsal of bread.
But that if you be for a virtuous wife,
To yield you the pleasure and comfort of life,
Take one that her mother has learned right well,
To card a few rowands and spin at her wheel.
A well tempered lass that can sew and knit,
And order her business as she thinks fit,
Wears no out-landish dress without nor within,
But only such cloaths as her mother did spin.
For these giglet gaukies as here you may see,
They are good for nothing but pleasing the eye,
And bringing a man to sorrow and strife,
They’re fitter for misses than to be a wife.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The KENT-SHIRE TRAGEDY.
A Lady lov’d a gallant sailor,
and she ador’d him as her life,
