Prides Fall; Or, A warning for all English Women.
By the Example of a strange Monster, born late in Germany, by a Merchants proud Wife at
Geneva. The Tune is, All you that love good fellows.
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ENglands fair dainty Dames,
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see here the fall of Pride,
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Wantonness leave in time,
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that God may be your guide:
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I was a Dutch-land Vrow,
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shining in beauty bright.
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And a brave Merchants Wife,
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in whom he took delight.
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All things I had at will,
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my heart could wish or crave,
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My dyet dainty fair,
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my garments rich and brave:
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No wife in Germany,
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where I in pleasure dwel'd,
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For golden bravery
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my person so exceld:
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My Coaches richly wrought,
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and deckt with pearl and gold,
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Carried me up and down
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whereas my pleasure would:
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The earth I deem'd too base,
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my feet to tread upon,
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My blooming Crimson Cheeks,
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felt neither Wind nor Sun,
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My beauty made me think,
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my self an Angel bright,
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Framed of heavenly mold,
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and not an earthly wight:
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For my souls happinesse,
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Gods Holy Bible Book,
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I had my Looking-Glasse,
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where I most pleasure took.
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There was no fashion found,
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that might advance my pride;
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But in my Looking-glasse,
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my fancy soon espy'd:
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Every vain foolish toy,
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changeth my wanton mind,
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And they best pleased me,
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that could new fashions find.
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Yet all these earthly joys,
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yeilded me small content,
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o that dame Nature had,
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ne'r a Child to me sent,
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That makes my heart to bleed,
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for which offence to God,
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He therefore grievously,
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scourged me with his Rod,
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And in m[y T]ender womb,
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of so pure flesh and blood,
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Created he, strange to see,
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a most deformed brood:
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That women of wanton pride,
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may take example by,
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How they in fashions fond,
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offend the Lord on high.
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When the Babe came to light,
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and I brought to my bed,
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No cost was spar'd that night,
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to stand me in my stead:
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My Nurses young and fair,
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fit for a Royal Queen,
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Gave all attendance there,
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as it was daily seen.
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Never had Merchants Wife,
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of Ladies such a train,
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That came in gentle sort,
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at the hour of my pain:
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But when my swelling Womb,
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yielded up natures due,
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Such a strange Monster then,
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never man hardly knew,
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The second part, to the same Tune.
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FOr it affrighted so,
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all the whole company,
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That e're one said in heart,
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vengeance now draweth nigh,
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It had two faces strange,
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and two heads painted fair,
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On the brows curled locks,
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such as our wantons wear.
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One hand held right the shape,
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of a fair Looking-glass,
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In which I took delight,
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how my vain beauty was:
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Right the shape of a Rod
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scourging me for my sin:
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The other seem'd to have,
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perfectly seen therein.
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These womens wantonness,
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and their vain foolish minds,
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Never contented are
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with that thing God assigns:
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Look to it London Dames
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God keepeth plagues in store,
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And now the second part
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of this song sheweth more.
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Grief and care kills my heart,
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where God offended is,
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As the poor Merchants wife,
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did worldly comforts miss:
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Strange were the miseries
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that she so long endur'd,
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No ease by womens help,
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could be as then procur'd.
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Hereupon speaks the child,
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with a voice fearfully,
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Mother, your wanton Pride,
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brings this your misery:
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Let your life soon amend,
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or else the mighty God,
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Will scourge your wantonness,
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with a more sharper Rod.
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About his neck a flaunting Ruff,
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it had now gallantly,
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Starched with white and blew,
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seemly unto the eye:
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With laces long and broad,
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as now are womens bands,
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Thus heavy wanton pride
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first in Gods anger stands.
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The breast was plated o're,
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as still the Merchants be,
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Now as lewd women wear,
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to hide adultery:
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Every part, every limb,
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had not true natures frame,
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But to shew to the world
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this my great sin and shame.
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From the head to the foot,
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Monster-like was it born,
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Every part had the shape
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of fashions daily worn:
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On the feet pinked shooes,
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insteps had Roses red:
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Which in silk now is us'd,
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so vainly are we led.
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Thus hath my flesh and blood,
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nourisht now near my heart:
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Puts me in mind of sin,
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and bids me now convert:
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O let all women then,
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take heed of wanton pride,
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Angels have fallen from heaven
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and for that sin have dy'd.
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No sooner brought to light
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was this fruit of my youth,
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But to the Counsel-house
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it was brought for a truth:
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Where to the Magistrates,
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in a most fearful sort:
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Began aloud to speak,
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and these words did report.
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I am a Messenger,
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now sent from God on high,
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To bid you all repent,
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Christ coming draweth nigh.
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Repent you all with speed,
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this is a Message sure,
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The world seems at an end,
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and cannot long endure.
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Pride is the Prince of sin,
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which is our chief delight.
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Man-kind repent with speed,
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before the Lord doth smite;
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This is my last adieu,
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repentance soon provide:
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These were his latest words,
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and so the Monster dy'd.
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Great was the fear of those,
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that the same speeches heard
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God grant all Christians may
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have their minds well prepar'd
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With true repentance,
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Gods mercy to implore,
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That never woman-kind
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may bring such fruit forth more:
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And you fair English Dames,
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that in pride do excel,
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This woful misery,
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in your hearts print full well.
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Let not pride be your guide,
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for pride will have a fall
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Maid and Wife, let my life,
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be warning to you all.
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