She cares not a fart for her Foe:
She knows that alwaies she’s shot-free,
To kill her no sword will prevaile,
But if she’s taken prisoner,
She’s prest to death by the naile.
She doth not esteem of your rich men,
But alwaies sticks close to the poor;
Nor she cares not for your clean shifters,
Nor for such as brave cloaths wear;
She loves all such as are non-suited,