The Doctrine of the Fair Helm-Maker to the Light o’ Loves

Now think on't, Nell the glover fair.
That wont my scholar once to be,
And you, Blanche Slippermaker there,
Your case in mine I'd have you see :
Look all to right and left take ye ;
Forbear no man ; for trulls that bin
Old have nor course nor currency,
No more than money that's called in.

You, Sausage-buckStress debonair,
That dance and trip it brisk and free,
And Guillemette Upholstress, there,
Look you transgress not Love's decree:
Soon must you shut up shop, per die ;
Soon old you'll grow, faded and thin,
Worth, like some old priest's visnomy,
No more than money that's called in.

Jenny the batter, have a care
Lest some false lover tamper thee ;
And Kitty Spurmaker, beware ;
Deny no man that proffers fee ;
For girls that are not bright o' blee
Men's scorn and not their service win :
Foul eld gets neither love nor gree,
No more than money that's called in.

Envoi
Wenches, give ear and list (quo' she)
Wherefore I weep and make this din ;
'Tis that there is no help for me,
No more than money that's called in.