Sweet babes must babies have, but shrewd girles must be beaten.
7 Thinke now no more to heare of warme fine shining snow,
Nor blushing Lillyes, nor pearles Rubie hidden row,
Nor of that golden sea, whose waves in curles are broken:
But of thy soule fraught with such ungratefulnesse,
As where thou soone mightst help, most there thou dost oppresse:
Ungratefull who is cald, the worst of ills is spoken.
8 Yet worse than worse, I say thou art a Thiefe. A thiefe?
Now God forbid: a thiefe, and of worst thieves a thiefe;
Thieves steale for neede, & steale for goods, which paine recovers: