Verse 1
My sonne kepe my words, and lay vp my commaundements by thee.
Verse 2
Kepe my commaundementes & my lawe, euen as the apple of thyne eye, and thou shalt liue.
Verse 3
Binde them vpon thy fingers, and wryte them in the table of thyne heart.
Verse 4
Say vnto wysdome, thou art my sister: and call vnderstanding thy kinsewoman:
Verse 5
That they may kepe thee from the straunge woman, and from the forraine woman which geueth sweete wordes.
Verse 6
For at the windowe of my house I loked through the windowe,
Verse 7
And behelde among the simple people and among the chyldren a young man voyde of wyt,
Verse 8
Goyng ouer the streate by the corner in the way towarde her house
Verse 9
In the twylight of the euening, when it began nowe to be night and darke:
Verse 10
And behold there met hym a woman with open tokens of an harlot, onlye her heart was hid:
Verse 11
She was full of loude wordes and redye to dallie, whose feete coulde not abide in the house:
Verse 12
Nowe is she without, nowe in the streates, and lyeth in wayte at euery corner.
Verse 13
She caught hym and kissed him, and was not ashamed, saying:
Verse 14
I had a vowe of peace offeringes to pay, and this day I perfourme it:
Verse 15
Therefore came I foorth to meete thee, that I might seeke thy face, and so haue I founde thee.
Verse 16
I haue deckt my bed with coueringes of tapessarie, and clothes of Egypt.
Verse 17
My bed haue I made to smell of Myrre, Aloes, and Cinamon.
Verse 18
Come let vs take our fill of loue vntyll the morning, and let vs solace our selues with the pleasures of loue.
Verse 19
For the good man is not at home, he is gone farre of.
Verse 20
He hath taken the bagge of money with hym, and wyll returne at the appointed solempne feast.
Verse 21
Thus with many sweete wordes she ouercame him, and with her flattering lippes she entised hym.
Verse 22
Sodainly he folowed her, as it were an oxe led to the slaughter, and lyke as it were a foole that laugheth when he goeth to the stockes to be punished,
Verse 23
So long tyll she had wounded his lyuer with her dart: lyke as if a byrde hasted to the snare, not knowing that the perill of his life lieth thervpon.
Verse 24
Heare me now therfore O my chylde, and marke the wordes of my mouth:
Verse 25
Let not thyne heart wander in her wayes, and be not thou deceaued in her pathes.
Verse 26
For many one hath she wounded and cast downe, yea many a strong man hath ben slaine by the meanes of her.
Verse 27
Her house is the way vnto hell, and bryng men downe into the chaumbers of death.