Chapter 5

My son, here is good advice for thy heeding; listen to wise counsel,

if thou wouldst be circumspect, if thou wouldst have ever on thy lips the maxims of prudence. First, give no credence to the wiles of woman;

honey-sweet words the temptress1 may use, all her talk be soothing as oil,

but oh, the dregs of that cup are bitter; a two-edged sword brings no sharper pang.

Death’s road she follows, her feet set towards the grave;

far from the highway that leads to life is the maze she treads.

Heed, then, my warning, and depart from it never;

shun her company, do not go near her doors.

Wouldst thou squander the pride of thy manhood upon heartless strangers like these?

If thus thou wilt spend all thy hopes, bestow all thy pains, upon an alien home that is no home of thine,

a time will come at last when health and strength shall be wasted away. Then thou wilt complain bitterly,

Alas, why did I spurn every precept, reject every warning,

unheard, unheeded, every lesson I was taught?

No marvel, had I paid the last penalty, with the assembled people for my judges!

Nay, drink, and drink deep, at thy own well, thy own cistern;

thence let thy offspring abound, like waters from thy own fountain flowing through the public streets;

only let them be thy own, let there be no commerce between thyself and strangers.

A blessing on that fountain of thine! take thy pleasure with the bride thy manhood wins for thee.

Thy own bride, gentle as a hind, graceful as a doe; be it her bosom that steals away thy senses with the delight of a lover that loves still.

What, my son, wouldst thou yield to the wiles of a stranger, dally with her embraces that is none of thine?

The Lord is watching, and knows what a man’s errand is, let him betake himself where he will.

The sinner will be ensnared by his own guilt, caught in the toils of his own wrong-doing;

doomed by his own incontinence, by his own great folly bemused.