Great(i)
3 For the lyppes of an harlot are a droppyng hony combe and her throte is more glisterynge them oyle.
4 But at the last she is as bytter as wormwod, and as sharpe as a two edged swerde.
5 Her fete go downe vnto death and her steppes pearse thorowe vnto hell.
6 Parchaunse thou dwellynge with her wylt ponder the path of lyfe? so vnstedfast are her wayes, that thou canst not knowe them.
7 Heare me nowe therfore (O my sonnes) & departe not from the wordes of my mouth.
8 Kepe thy waye farre from her, and come not nye the dores of her house.