Bride.
Besse, of such shapes, when your turne coms to marry
A carefull mynd, in choyse of husband beare,
For if your browes from former smothnes varry,
Thinke on this speach, It commeth with a feare:
Which I am past, perplexe me no feare can.
Being sure I haue a constant honest man.
Iane.
Belieue you haue, and t'is enough they say,
But you and I agree not in a mynde,
I read in storyes men will run astray,
Yet make their foolish wiues beleeue th'are kind:
And therefore since they are so cunning knowne
He keepe my selfe a maide and trust to none.
Had I one sutor swore himselfe loue-sicke,
Another for his Mistris sake would die,
A third thorow Cupids power growne lunaticke,
A fourth that languishing past hope did lye:
And so fift, sixt, and seauenth in loues passion,
My Maiden-head for them should ner'e change fashion.
Aeneas told many a cogging tale,
To Dido that renowned worthy Queene,
And Iason with his flatterings did preuaile,
Yet falser knaues in loue were neuer seene:
And at this instant hower, as they were then,
The world aboundeth with deceitfull men.
Doll.
Iane, thats too true, for to you all I sweare,
How I was bobd by one tis shame to tell,
A smoother fellow neuer wench did heare,
And as I liue, I thought he lou'd me well:
Heere you shall fee one of his cunning letters,
Which 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.
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