Pride's fall: Or, A warning for all English Women.  
By the Example of a strange Monster born of late in Germany, by a Mercha●t● to proud Wife in Geneva.  
The Tune is, All you that love good Fellows.  

TB   


Englands' fair dainty Dames,  
see here the fall of Pride,  
Wantonness leave in time,  
that God may be your guide;  
I was a Dutch-land Vrow,  
shining in beauty bright,  
And a brave Merchant's wife,  
in whom he took delight.   

All things I had at will,  
my heart could with or crave  
My diet dainty fare,  
my garments rich and brave:  
No wife in Germany,  
where I in pleasure dwel'd,  
For Golden bravery,  
my person so excelled.   

My Coaches richly wrought,  
and decked with pearl and gold  
Carried me up and down,  
whereas my pleasure would:  
The earth I deemed too base,  
my feet to tread upon,  
My blooming crimson cheeks,  
felt neither wind nor sun.   

My beauty made me think  
myself an Angel bright,  
Framed of heavenly mould,  
and not an earthly Wight:  
For my souls happiness,  
God's holy Bible book,  
I had my Looking-glass,  
where I most pleasure took.   

There was no fashion found  
that might advance my pride,  
But in my Looking-glass  
my fancy soon espied:  
Every vain foolish toy,  
changeth my wanton mind,  
And they best pleased me,  
that could new fashions find.   

Yet all those earthly joys,  
yielded me small content,  
In that Dame nature had  
ne'er a child to me sent:  
That makes my heart to bleed,  
for which offence to God,  
He therefore grievously  
scourged me with his Rod.   

And in my tender womb,  
of so pure flesh and blood,  
Created he, strange to see,  
a most deformed brood:  
That women of wanton pride,  
may take example by,  
Now they in fashion fond,  
offend the Lord on high.   

When the babe came to light,  
and I brought to my bed,  
No cost was spared that night,  
to stand me in my steed:  
Nigh Nurses young and fair,  
fit for a Royal Queen,  
Gave all attendance there,  
as it was daily seen.   

Never had Merchant's wife,  
of Ladies such a train,  
That came in gentle sort,  
at the hour of my pain:  
But when my swelling womb,  
yielded up natures due,  
Such a strange monster than  
never man hardly knew.    

The second part,  
to the same Tune.  

FOr it affrighted so  
all the whole company,  
That e'er one said in heart,  
vengeance now draweth nigh  
It had two faces strange,  
and two heads painted fair,  
On the brows curled locks,  
such as our wantoness ware.   

One hand held right the shape  
of a fair looking-glass,  
In which I took delight,  
how my vain beauty was;  
Right the shape of a Rod,  
scourging me for my Sin,  
The other seemed to have,  
perfectly seen therein.   

These women's wantonness,  
and their vain foolish minds,  
Never contentented are  
with that thing God assigns;  
Look to it London Dantes,  
God keepeth Plagues in store,  
And now the second part  
of this Song showeth more,   

Grief and care kills my heart,  
where God offended is,  
As the poor Merchant's wife,  
did worldly comfort miss:  
Strange were the miseries,  
that she so long endured,  
No ease by women's help,  
could be as then procured.   

Hereupon speaks the child,  
with a voice fearfully,  
Mother your wanton pride,  
bring this your misery;  
Let your life soon amend,  
or else the mighty God,  
Will scourge your wantonness  
with a more sharper Rod,   

About his neck a flaunting Ruff  
it had now gallantly,  
Starched with white and blue,  
seeming unto the eyr.  
With laces long and broad,  
as now are women's bands,  
Thus heavy wanton Pride,  
first in God's anger stands.   

The breast was plated o'er,  
as still the Merchants be,  
Now as lewd women wear,  
to hide Adultery:  
Every part, every limb,  
had not true nature's frame,  
But to show to the world,  
this my great sin and shame.   

From the head to the foot,  
monster like was it born,  
Every part had the shape  
of fashions daily worn:  
On the feet pinked shoes,  
insteps had Roses red,  
Which in silk now is used,  
so vainly are we fed.   

Thus hath my flesh and blood,  
nourished now near my heart,  
Puts me now in mind of Sin,  
and bids me now convert;  
O let us women then  
take heed of wanton pride,  
Angels have fallen from Heaven  
and for that sin have died.   

No sooner brought to light.  
was this fruit of my youth,  
But to the Council-house  
it was brought for a truth;  
Where to the Magistrates  
in a most fearful sort,  
Began aloud to speak,  
and these words did report.   

I am a messenger,  
now sent from God on high,  
To bid you all repent,  
Christ coming draweth nigh,  
Repent you all with speed,  
this is a message sure,  
The world seems at an end,  
and cannot long endure.   

Pride is the Prince of sin,  
Which is our chief delight,  
Mankind repent with speed,  
before the Lord do smite,  
This is my last adieu,  
repentance soon provide,  
These were his latest words,  
and so the monster died.   

Great was the fear of those,  
that these same speeches heard  
God grant all Christians may  
have their minds well prepared  
With true repentance,  
God's mercy to implore,  
That never womankind,  
may bring such fruit forth more  
And you fair English dames,  
that in pride do excel,  
This woeful misery,  
in your hearts print full well:  
Let not Pride be your guide,  
for Pride will have a fall,  
Maid and Wife, let my life,  
be warning to you all.     

Printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, and J. Wright.