Which example may justly be a sufficient warning
for all young Men to beware the feigned
fidelity of unconstant Maidens.
ALl youthful wights at liberty, whom Love did never thrall; I wish that my decay may be a warning to you all!
That have a sore, bred in my breast, although it be not strange; Yet will it bring me to the grave, without some sudden change.
For I, by suit, have servèd one two years and somewhat more, And now I can no longer serve; my heart it is so sore.
Which heart I let to Usury, through greedy fond desire; Not doubting to receive home twain, when I would them require.
But if that every Usurer had such good hap as I, There would not be so many men would use this usury.
My Debtor hath deceivèd me; for she is from me fled: And I am left among the briars to bring a fool to bed.
So that I silly [innocent] man remain each day in doubtful case: For Death doth daily lie in wait to 'rest me with his mace.
And cast me into prison strong, the door is made of grass: And I might bless my hour of birth, if it were come to pass.
For, lo, my careful choice doth choose to keep me still in thrall; And doth regard my love no more than stone that lies in wall.
Whereby I see that women's hearts are made of marble stone: I see how careless they can be, when pensive men do moan.
I sowed both pure and perfect seed on fair and pleasant ground; In hope, though harvest brought some pain, some profit might be found.
But now the harvest ended is; and for my faithful seeds, And all my pain and labour past, I have nought else but weeds.
I thrust my hand among the thorns, in hope the rose to find: I pricked my hand, and eke my heart; yet left the rose behind.
Not I, but many more I know in love do lack relief: But I, as cause doth me compel, do wail my pain and grief.
I doubtless cannot be the first that Love hath put to pain: Nor yet I shall not be the last that Women will disdain.
If I, poor wretch, should think upon the pains that I have past; Or if I could recount the cares that she hath made me taste:
Into despair it would me drive, and cleave my heart in twain; Or else bereave me of my wits, to think upon the pain.
I never spent one day in joy, my careful heart doth know; Since first I lent my love to her, by whom my grief doth grow.
There are no greater pains assigned for damnèd ghosts in hell, Than I do suffer for her sake, that I do love so well.
The price that I have paid for love, not many men would give: But I my bargain shall repent as long as I do live.
I paid for love, and that full dear: yet I received right nought. I never was so much deceived in anything I bought.
If every woman on her friend such pity used to take; Then shortly men will run to love, as bears unto a stake.
But now let Venus fire her forge! Let Cupid's shaft be sent! They can no more increase my woe: for all my love is spent.
But here, good Reader, thou mayst see how Love hath paid my hire! To leave me burning in the flame; compelled to blow the fire.
But if that thou, good friend, desire to live in happy state: Then seek in time to shun mishap! Repentance comes too late!
Frequent not women's company; but see thou from them swerve! For thy reward shall be but small whatever thou deserve.
Take heed, for thou mayst come in thrall before that thou beware: And when thou art entanglèd once, thou canst not fly the snare.
Take thou not this to be a jest; but think it to be true! Before thou prove, as I have done: lest proof do make thee rue.
Yet if thou chance to place thy love; take heed What thou dost say! And see thou place thy talk in print, or else beware a fray!
And thus I end: not doubting but these words may well suffice To warn thy greedy heart of harm, and ease thy roving eyes.
Ease by Disease hath made me to halt: Time hath so turned my sugar to salt.
R. WITC
FINIS.
Imprinted at London, by
Richard Jones.
