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.