These are the wordes of Kynge Lamuel, & ye lesson yt his mother taught him.

My sonne, thou sonne of my body: O my deare beloued sonne,

geue not ouer thy substaunce & mynde vnto women, which are the destruccio eue of kynges.

O Lamuel, geue kinges no wyne, geue kynges & prynces no stronge drynke:

lest they beinge dronken forget the lawe, & regarde not ye cause of the poore, & of all soch as be in aduersite.

Geue stronge drynke vnto soch as are condempned to death, & wyne vnto those yt mourne:

that they maye drynke it, & forget their misery & aduersite.

Be thou an aduocate & stonde in iudgment thyself, to speake for all soch as be dome & sucourles.

With yi mouth defende ye thinge yt is laufull and right, and ye cause of ye poore and helplesse.

Who so fyndeth an honest faithful woma, she is moch more worth the perles.

The herte of hir husbande maye safely trust in her, so that he shal haue no nede of spoyles.

She wil do him good & not euel all ye dayes of hir life.

She occupieth woll & flax, & laboureth gladly wt hir handes.

She is like a marchauntes shippe, that bryngeth hir vytayles from farre.

She is vp in ye night season, to prouyde meate for hir housholde, & foode for hir maydens.

She considreth lode, & byeth it, and wt the frute of hir handes she planteth a vynyarde.

She gyrdeth hir loynes with strength, and courageth hir armes.

And yf she perceaue that hir houswifrie doth good, hir candle goeth not out by night.

She layeth hir fyngers to the spyndle, & hir hande taketh holde of ye rocke.

She openeth hir hande to ye poore, yee she stretcheth forth hir hades to soch as haue nede.

She feareth not yt the colde of wynter shal hurte hir house, for all hir housholde folkes are duble clothed.

She maketh hir self fayre ornametes, hir clothige is whyte sylke & purple.

Hir hu?bade is moch set by in ye gates, whe he sytteth amonge ye rulers of ye londe.

She maketh cloth of sylke & selleth it, and delyuereth a gyrdle vnto ye marchaut.

Stregth and honoure is hir clothinge, & in the latter daye she shal reioyse.

She openeth hir mouth with wy?dome, & in hir toge is the lawe of grace.

She loketh wel to the wayes of hir housholde, & eateth not hir bred with ydilnes.

Hir children arise & call hir blessed, & hir hu?bande maketh moch of her.

Many daughters there be yt gather riches together, but thou goest aboue the all.

As for fauor, it is disceatfull, and beutie is a vayne thinge: but a woman that feareth the LORDE, she is worthy to be praysed.

Geue her of the frute of hir handes, and let hir owne workes prayse her in the gates.