Dwell at home, daughter, and love thy work much,
And so thou shalt, my lief child, wax the sooner rich.
A merry thing ’tis evermore,
A man to be served of his own store,
My lief child.
Acquaint thee not with each man that goeth by the street,
Though any man speak to thee, swiftly[[98]] thou him greet;
By him do not stand, but let him his way depart,
Lest he by his villainy should tempt thy heart.
For all men be not true