Thus every man doth know, doth know,

And his beginning see,

But none so wise can shew, can shew, What will his ending be.

No sooner was his father dead,
And closed in his grave,

But this his wild and wanton son,
His mind to lewdness gave.

And being but of tender years
Found out such company,
Which prov'd his fatal overthrow,
And final misery.

In gluttony and drunkenness
He daily took delight,
And still in strumpet's company
He spent the silent night,

Forgetting quite that drunkenness,
And filthy lechery,

Of all the sins will soonest bring
. A man to misery.

Within the seas of wanton love,
His heart was drowned so deep,
A night he could not quietly
Without strange women sleep.

And therefore kept them secretly
To feed his foul desire,

Apparrell'd all like gallant youths
In pages' trim attire.

Their garments were of crimson silk,
Bedeckt with cloth of gold,
Their curled hair was white as milk,
Most comely to behold.

He gave them for their cognizance
A purple bleeding heart,

In which two silver arrows seem'd
The same in twain to part.

Thus secret were his wanton sports, Thus private was his pleasure, Thus harlots in the shape of men, Did waste away his treasure.

Oh, woe to lust and treachery!
Oh, woe to such a vice!
That buys repentance all too late ;
And at too dear a price.

Yet he repented not at all,
So wilful was his mind,
He could not see his infamy,

For sin had made him blind.

But in his heart desired a change
Of wanton pleasures so,
That day by day he wishes still,
Strange women for to know.

And so discharging of his train,
And selling of his land,
To travel into country's strange,
He quickly took in hand.

And into Antwerp speedily,
Thus all aflaunt he goes,
To see the dainty Flemish girls,
And gallant Dutchland froes.

For still, quoth he, the Dutchland froes

Are kind to Englishmen,

I'll have my pleasure of those girls,

Or never come again :

And being arriv'd in Antwerp streets,

He met a lovely dame,

That was a widow's daughter dear,

Of good report and fame.

Her beauty, like the purple rose,

So glistered in his eye, That ravish'd with the sam

Her secret company.

But she like to an honest maid,
By no means would consent,
To satisfy his lustful eye,

As was his false intent.

An hundred days he wholly spent,
As many nights in vain,
As many angels he consum'd,
Her maidenhead to gain.

But nothing he prevail'd at all,
Untill that Satan's aid,
And cursed counsel helping him,
For to deflower this maid.

For like a lustful lecher he

Found such convenient time, That he enforced her to drink, Till she was drunk with wine.

And being overcharged with wine,
As maiden-heads be weak,
He ravish'd her there, when that she
Could no resistance make.

For being senseless there, she lost

Her sweet virginity,

Which she had kept full twenty years, With great severity.

Therefore, good virgins, take good heed,

Lest you be thus beguiled,

When wine is settled in your brain,
You may be got with child.

And mark, I pray, what then befell
Unto this modest dame,
When she recovers her lost sense
And knew of her defame.

In pining grief she languish'd long
Like Philomel by night,

And would not come, for very shame,
In honest maidens sight.

Her womb at last began to swell,

Her babe received life;

And being neither widow nor maid,

Nor yet a married wife,

Did wish that she had ne'er been born,

Or in her cradle died,

Then angels at the gate of heaven
Had crown'd her virgin bright.

This babe that breedeth in my womb,
Quoth she, shall ne'er be born,
Nor called a bastard by such wives

That hold such love in scorn.