The Bride

Excerpt

THE BRIDE TO ALL MAYDES.

  Not out of bubble blasted Pride,
  Doe I oppose myselfe a Bride,
  In scornefull manner with vpbraides:
  Against all modest virgin maides.
  As though I did dispise chast youth,
  This is not my intent of truth,
  I know they must liue single liues,
  Before th'are graced to be wiues.
  But such are only touch'd by me,
  That thinke themselues as good as wee:
  And say girles, Weomens fellows arr,
  Nay sawcely, Our betters farr:
  Yea will dispute, they are as good,
  Such Wenches vex me to the blood,
  And are not to be borne with all:
  Those I doe here in question call,
  Whome with the rules of reasons Arte:
  He teach more wit before we part,
  Sylence, of kindnes I beseech,
  Doe you finde eares, and weele finde speach.

THE BRIDE

Virgins, and fellow maydes (that were of late)
   Take kindly heere my wedding dayes a dew,
   I entertayne degree aboue your state:
For Marriage life's beyond the single crew,
  Bring me to Church as custome sayes you shall,
   And then as wife, farewell my wenches all.

I goe before you vnto Honour now,
And Hymen's Rites with ioy doe vndertake
For life, I make the constant Nuptiall vow,
Striue you to follow for your credits sake,
   For greater grace to Womankind is none
   Then Ioyne with husband, faithfull two in one.

God Honoured thus, our great Grand-mother Eue
And gaue thereby the blessing of increase,
For were not mariage we must all beleeue,
The generations of the earth would cease.
   Mankind should be extinguish'd and decreas'd
   And all the world would but consist of beast.

Which caused me to finde my Mayden folly,
And having found it, to reforme the same:
Though some of you, thereat seeme melancholy
That I for ever doe renounce your name.
  I not respect what censure you can giue,
   Since with a loving Man I meane to liue.

Whose kindest heart, to me is worth you all,
Him to content, my soule in all things seekes,
Say what you please, exclaiming chide and brall,
Ile turne disgrace unto your blushing cheekes.
   I am your better now by Ring and Hatt,
   No more playn Rose, but Mistris you know what.

Marrie therefore and yeald increase a store,
Else to what purpose weare you breed and borne:
Those that receaue, and nothing giue therefore:
Are fruitles creatures, of contempt and scorne,
   The excellence of all things doth consist,
   In giuing, this no reason can resist.

The glorious Sun, in giving forth his light,
The Earth in plants, and hearbs & countles things
The trees their fruit, The Empresse of the Night
She bountious gives to rivers flouds and springs,
   And all that heaven, and all that earth containes,
   Their goodnes, in Increase of guifts explaynes.

But what doe you that neither give nor take,
(As only made for hearing, and for seeing,)
Although created helpers for Mans sake:
Yet Man no whit the better for your being,
   That spend consume and Idle out your howers,
   Like many garden-paynted vselesse flowers....