Proverbs 7

Great^{(i) 1} My sonne, kepe my wordes, & laye vp my commaundementes by the. ² Kepe my commaundementes and my lawe, euen as the apple of thyne eye, and thou shalt lyue. ³ Bynde them vpon thy fyngers, and wryte them in the table of thyne hert. ⁴ Saye vnto wysdome: thou art my syster, and call vnderstandynge thy kynswoman: ⁵ that they maye kepe the from the straunge woman, and from the harlot which geueth swete wordes. ⁶ For out of the wyndowe of my house I loked thorowe the latysse, ⁷ & behelde the symple people: and amonge other yonge folkes I spyed one yonge foole, ⁸ goinge ouer the stretes, by the corner in the waye towarde the harlottes house, ⁹ in the twylight of the euenynge, when it beganne nowe to be nyght & darcke. ¹⁰ And beholde, there mett hym a woman wt open tokens of an harlot, onely her herte was hyde, ¹¹ She was full of loude wordes, & redy to daly: whose fete coulde not abyde in the house, ¹² nowe is the without, now in the stretes, and layeth abayte in euery corner, ¹³ she caught the yongeman, kyssed hym, and was not ashamed, sayinge: ¹⁴ I had a vowe of peace offerynges to paye, and thys daye I perfourme it. ¹⁵ Therfore came I forth to mete the, that I myght seke thy face, and so I haue founde the. ¹⁶ I haue deckte my bed with couerynges and clothes of Egypte. ¹⁷ My bed haue I made to smell of Mirre, Aloes, and Cynamon. ¹⁸ Come lett vs ly together, and take oure pleasure tyll it be daye lyght: and we wyll enioye the pleasures of loue. ¹⁹ For the good man is not at home, he is gone farre of. ²⁰ He hath taken the bagge of moneye with hym: And will retourne home at the appoynted solempne feste? ²¹ Thus with many swete wordes she ouercame him, and with her flatterynge lyppes she entysed hym ²² sodenlye to folowe her: as it were an oxe led to the slaughter, & lyke as it were a foole that laugheth when he goeth to the stockes, to be punyshed, ²³ so longe tyll she had wounded hys lyuer with her dart: lyke as yf a byrde hasted to the snare, not knowynge that the parell of hys lyfe lyeth ther vpon. ²⁴ Heare me nowe therfore, O my chyldren, and marcke the wordes of my mouth. ²⁵ Let not thyne herte wandre in her wayes, and be not thou disceaued in her pathes. ²⁶ For many one hath she wounded and cast downe, yee many a stronge man hath bene slayne by the meanes of her. ²⁷ Her houses are the waye vnto hell, and brynge men downe into the chambers of death.