I charge you, lady young and fair,
Straightway to lay your arms aside.
Lay by your armour, would you dare
To spread the slaughter far and wide?
O lady, lay your armour by,
Conceal your curling hair also,
For never was a man could fly
The coils that o’er your bosom flow.
And if you answer, lady fair,
That north or south you ne’er took life,
Your very eyes, your glance, your air
Can murder without axe or knife.
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And oh! If you but bare your knee,
If you your soft hand’s palm advance,
You’ll slaughter many a company.
What more is done with shield and lance?
Oh, hide your bosom limey white,
Your naked side conceal from me.
Ah, show them not in all men’s sight,
Your breasts more bright than flowering tree.
And if in you there’s shame or fear
For all the murders you have done,
Let those bright eyes no more appear,
Those shinning teeth be seen of none.
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Lady, we tremble far and near!
Be with these conquests satisfied,
And lest, I perish, lady dear,
Oh, lay those arms of yours aside.
PIERCE FERRITER (Died 1653)