My sone, yf thou be suertie for yi neghboure, thou hast fastened thine hode wt another ma:

yee thou art boude with thine owne wordes, and taken wt thine owne speach.

Therfore (my sonne) do this, discharge thy self, for thou art come i to yi neghbours daunger. Go thy waye then soone, & intreate thy neghboure:

let not thyne eyes slepe, ner thine eye lyddes slomber.

Saue thy self as a doo fro ye honde, & as a byrde fro the hode of the fouler.

Go to the Emmet (thou slogarde) cosidre hir wayes, & lerne to be wyse.

She hath no gyde, no teacher, no leder:

yet in the sommer she prouideth hir meate, & gathereth hir foode together i ye haruest.

How loge wilt thou slepe, thou slogish ma? Wha wilt thou aryse out of thy slepe?

Yee slepe on still a litle, slober a litle, folde thine handes together yet a litle, that thou mayest slepe:

so shal pouerte come vnto the as one yt trauayleth by the waye, & necessite like a wapened man.

A dissemblynge person, a wicked man goeth with a frowarde mouth:

he wyncketh with his eyes, he tokeneth wt his fete, he poynteth wt his fyngers,

he is euer ymageninge myschefe & frowardnesse in his hert, & causeth discorde.

Therfore shal his destruccion come hastely vpo him, sodenly shal he be all tobroken, and not be healed.

There be sixe thinges, which the LORDE hateth, & the seuenth he vtterly abhorreth:

A proude loke, a dyssemblynge tonge, hades that shed innocent bloude,

an herte yt goeth aboute wt wicked ymaginacios, fete that be swift in rennynge to do myschefe,

a false wytnesse yt bringeth vp lyes, & soch one as soweth discorde amonge brethren.

My sonne, kepe thy fathers comaundemetes, & forsake not ye lawe of thy mother.

Put the vp together in thine herte, and bynde the aboute thy necke.

That they maye lede the where thou goest, preserue the when thou art aslepe, & yt when thou awakest, thou mayest talke of the

(For the commaundement is a lanterne, and the lawe a light: yee chastenynge & nurtoure is ye waye of life)

that they maye kepe the fro the euell woman, & from the flaterynge tonge of the harlott:

yt thou lust not after her beuty in thine herte, & lest thou be take wt hir fayre lokes.

An harlot wil make a ma to begg his bred, but a maried woman wil hunt for ye precious life.

Maye a man take fyre in his bosome, and his clothes not be brent?

Or can one go vpon hote coales, and his fete not be hurte?

Euen so, who so euer goeth in to his neghbours wife, and toucheth her, can not be vngiltie.

Men do not vtterly despyse a thefe, that stealeth to satisfie his soule, when he is hongerie:

but yf he maye be gotten, he restoreth agayne seuen tymes asmoch, or els he maketh recompence with all the good of his house.

But who so comitteth aduoutrie with a woma, he is a foole, and bryngeth his life to destruccion.

He getteth him self also shame & dishonor, soch as shal neuer be put out.

For the gelousy & wrath of the ma will not be itreated,

no though thou woldest ofre him greate giftes to make amendes, he will not receaue them.