Well said good Susan, now thou pay'st her home.
Bride.
A little favour pray, good Mistris Sue,
You haue a time to heare aswell as speake:
You challenge more by odds then is your due,
And stand on Arguments are childish weake:
Of freedome, liberty, and all content,
But in the aire your breath is vainely spent.
It is your shame to bost you haue your will,
And that you are in feare of no controwle,
Your cases Sufan, are more bad and ill,
Most dangerous to body and to soule:
A woman to her will hath oft bin try'd,
To run with errour, on the left hand side.
Pray did not danger then to Eue befall,
When she tooke liberty without her heda,
The Serpent ouercame her therwithall,
And thorow will, she wilfull was misled:
Yelding assoone as Sathan did intice,
And of her husband neuer tooke aduise.
In wit to men we are inferiour far,
For arts for learning, and Ingenious things,
No rare Inuentions in our braynes there are,
That publique profit to a kingdome brings:
Tis they that must all callings execute,
And wee of all their labours reape the fruite.
They are Diuines for soules true happines,
They Maiestraites to right offensiue wronges,
They souldiers for their martiall valiantnes,
They artizans, for all to vse belonges:
They husbandmen to worke the earths increase,
And they the some of womens ioye and peace.
And shall not we performe obedience then?
As wee are bound by law of God and nature,
Yealding true harts affection unto men,
Ordain'd to rule and gouerne euery creature:
Why then of all on earth that liue and moue,
We should degenerate and monsters proue.
Besse.
Monsters (forsoth) nere sleepe in maidens beds,
But they are lodged with your married wiues,
The knotty browes, and rugged butting heds,
Concerne not vs, professing single liues,
To learne your horne-booke we have no deuotion
Keepe monsters to your selues, we scorne the motion.