A talk of ten wives on their husbands' ware / ed. by Frederick J. Furnivall.

A Talk of Ten Wives on their Husbands' Ware

[folio 56v]

LEve, lystynes to me Two wordys or thre, And [Every final d, g, m, n, has a curl to it, which in some cases umst meane.] herkenes to my songe; And I schall tell ȝow a tale, Howe .x. wyffys satt at þ^e nale, And noman hem a-monge.

"Sen we haue no othere songe [Forto singen vs amonge,] Talys lett vs tell Off owre hosbondes ware, Wych of hem most worthy are To-day to bere the bell.

And I schall nowe begyn att myne: I knowe the mett [measure, length.] well & fyne, The lenȝte of a snayle, And euer he warse is from day to day. To grete god euer I pray To gyve hym evyle hayle."

¶ The secund wyffe sett her nere, And seyd, "by the rode, I haue a ware [folio 57r] That is two so mene [middling; 'twice as poor.'] :

I mett [meted, measured.] hym in þ^e morowe tyde, When he was in his moste pryde, The lenȝte of .iij. bene.

"Howe schuld I be served with that? I wold gybbe, owre gray catt, Were cord þere on! By sayne peter owte of rome, I se neuer a wars lome Stondyng opon mone."

¶ The .iij. wyffe was full woo, And seyd that "I haue one of thoo That noȝte is at nede; Owre syre breche, when hit is torn, Hys pentyll pepythe owte be-forn Lyke a warbrede [? Warbot. 'A worme, escarbot, Palsgrave.' Halliwell. Cp. 'War-beetles. The large maggots which are bred in the backs of cattle. Norfolk.' Ib.] ;

"Hit growethe all with-in þ^e here: Sychon se I neuer ere, Stondyng opon schare ['The pubes of a man.' Halliwell, quoting this passage. 'The fork of the legs,' from A.S. sceare shears, scissors.] . [folio 57v] Ȝett the schrewe is hodles, And of all thynge goodles! There cryste gyve hym care!"

¶ The .iiij. wyffe of the floke Seyd, "owre syre fydecoke [For fyde, cp. our Fiddle, fiddle-de-dee, nonsense; fiddle-head, stupid, etc.] ffayn wold I skyfte [shift, change; A.S. sciftan.] : He is longe, and he is smalle, And ȝett hathe þ^e fydefalle [For fyde, cp. our Fiddle, fiddle-de-dee, nonsense; fiddle-head, stupid, etc.] ; God gyve hym sory thryfte!

"The leste fyngere on my honde Is more than he, whan he dothe stonde: Alasse that I am lorn! Sory mowntyng com there-on! He schold a be a womon Had he be eere born."

¶ The .v. wyffe was full fayn When sche hard her felowys playn, And vp sche gan stond: "Now ȝe speke of a tarse ['Mentula, virga:' Halliwell, citing this passage.] ! [folio 58r] In all þ^e warld is not a warse Than hathe my hosbond.

"Owre syre bradys [? sheds his horns; ? braid, to draw a sword out of the scabbard.] lyke a dere He pysses his tarse euery ȝere, Ryȝte as dothe a boke: When men speke of archery, He mon stond faste there-by, Or ellys hys schote woll troke [fall short: Halliwell, quoting these lines. ?A.S. trucan fail.] ."

¶ The .vj. wyffe hyȝte sare; Sche seyd: "my hosbondys ware Is of good a-syse [measure, standard of weight, etc.] ; He is whyte as ony mylke, He is softe as ony sylke, Ȝett sertis he may not ryse.

I lyrke [jerk. Lirt to toss, West. and Cumb. Dial. P. 368: Halliwell, citing this passage.] hym vp with my hond, And pray hym that he woll stond, And ȝett he lythe styll.

When I se that all is noȝte, I thynke mony a thro [fierce.] thoȝte; [folio 58v] Bot cryste wote my wyll."

¶ The .vij. wyffe sat on the bynch, And sche caste her legge on wrynch, And bad fyll the wyne: "By seynt Iame of galys, In englond ne in walys Is not a wars than myne!

"Whon owre syre comys In, And lokes after that sory pyne That schuld hengge bytwen his leggis, He is lyke, by the rode, A sory laueroke [lark.] satt on brode Opon two adyll eggis."

¶ The .viij. wyffe was wll I-taȝte, And seyd, "seldom am I saȝte, And so I well may: When the froste fresys, Owre syris tarse lesys, And all-way gose a-way.

[folio 59r] When the ȝeke [A.S. geac a cuckoo.] gynnys to synge, Then the schrewe begynnys to sprynge, Lyke a humbulbe; He cowres vp on othere two,— I know not the warse of tho, I schrew hem all thre!"

¶ The .ix. wyffe sett hem nyȝe, And held a mett [measure.] vp on hyȝe The lenȝte of a fote:

"Here is a pyntell of a fayre lenȝte, But he berys a sory strenȝte,— God may do boote [remedy, help.] ;—

"I bow hym, I bend hym, I stroke hym, I wend [turn.] hym; The deuell mot hym sterve! Be he hote, be he cold, Tho I torn hym two fold, Ȝett he may not serve."

¶ The .x. wyffe be-gan her tale, [folio 59v] And seyd, "I haue on of the smale, Was wyndowed a-way. Of all noȝtes it is noȝte: Sertis, and hit schuld be boȝte, He is not worth a nay" Amen.