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Subject terms
Marriage -- Early works to 1800.
Link to this Item
http://name.umdl.umich.edu/a05124.0001.001
Cite this Item
"The fyftene joyes of maryage." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/a05124.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed June 10, 2024.
Pages
And here begynneth the fyrst Ioye of maryage
[illustration]
THe fyrst Ioy of maryage is thisAs whan a man oftenderyeres isFlourynge in youth / pleasaunt fresshe and gayThen in this worlde / nothynge may hym dysmay.He other mynde / desyre nor appetyte
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Conforte / lykynge / pleasure / Ioye / ne delyteHath he except / how he may tye his poyntesTo cause his hose / to syt well on his IoyntesAnd make his vysage / and his lymmes fayreHe brussheth oft his goune / and other gayreHis hede he combeth smothe ryght as hym lykethWherof the heres / pruneth he and pykethAnd maketh hym as clenly as he canThat folke may say / there gooth a goodly manSo wyll he synge / daunce / and balades makeAnd vpon hym / mo entrepryses takeThat he can do / or may atchyeue perchaunceThynkynge therby / hym selfe so to enhaunceThe fayrest creature that he can espyeHe wyll beholde / with ryght a lusty eyeAs vysynge well / where he suche one may fyndeA Iolynet accordynge to his myndeAnd whan he hath her fast in his demayneIoyous he is / ryght mery / gladde and fayneFor paraduenture so the case may standeThat by his faders / or his moders landeOr by theyr other goodes he may maynteneHis Iolynets / and go ryght well beseneLyuynge in rest and ease habundauntlyBeholdynge other folkes certaynlyIn to the bonde of maryage ybroughtThan in his mynde he casteth and his thoughtLyke as the fysshe behelde the lepe / so heDemeth / these wedded men in blysse beHauynge the bayte / and pasture at theyr wyllWherof they may / theyr appetyte fulfyllRyght well he seeth the beatute of theyr wyuesSupposynge that they haue so mery lyues
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With them so well appoynted and arayedFor whiche the sely husbande hath not payedIt may so be percase / at many seasonSome folke wyll say / and she we this man by reasonThat so her owne fader / or hermoderHer hath arayed / and demeth he none oderAnd so this yonge man / torneth hym abouteThe lepe / wherin of wedded a routeEnclosed be / and thenne he dooth enquereOf maryage / a lytell here and thereSoone here vpon / aryseth suche a wyndeAnd smoke / that he therof is made so blyndeThat he vn ware / in to the lepe is castWherin he shall be kepte and holden fastAnd where as he was wonte in tyme aforeTo synge and daunce / that may well be forboreOf poyntes byenge / purses / or thynges lykeHerof shall he not nede / whyles he may pykeUpon the bayte / tyll he therof be fullHis besynes may cause hym to be dullNow Ioyeth he a whyle / and hym delytethTo do pleasaunce / ryght well he hym acquytethNewly so entred / in to the foresayd ginAnd for a tyme nothynge dysmayed therinSupposynge out to go / but there yet styllHe must abyde / and dwell maugre his wyllAnd to repent / there is no tyme ne houreFor with the swete mete / the sauces soureContynuaunce wyll cause hym to assaySyth he can not escape by ony wayAnd for to put his wyfe in suche degreAs appertayneth of necessyteIt hym behoueth honeste to saue
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Andlo may be / his wyfe an herte may haueRyght good / desyrynge to be fresshe and gayFor peraduenture / she this other dayWas at a feest / where she dyde well aduyseWomen of her degre / all otherwyseThan she / appoynted / clothed / and araydeWithin her mynde / than to her selfe she saydeThat by her byrthe / she ought as well as theyTo be apparayled and in as good areySo she compaceth / castynge in her mynd▪The day and houre / out craftely to fyndeTo her good man / this mater to declareBut her entent to shewe / yet wyll she spareTyll she with hym / at nyght be gone to beddeFor there these wyues trust well to be speddeOf suche petycyons / as they requyreAccordynge to theyr wylles and desyreWhan that this wyfe / in bedde is layde thusSadly she sayth / for loue of cryst IhesusSyr lete me be in rest / for euyll at easeI am / and he whiche gladly wolde her pleaseAnswereth and sayth / tell me wherfore it isThat greueth you / she sayth grete cause y wysHaue I / for ye care nothynge what I sayeOr shewe to you / in ernest or in playeHe sayeth than / why speke ye in suche a wyseBy god and all his sayntes in paradyseShe sayth / no myster it is that ye it kneweFor whan I speke to you but wordes feweLytell accompt therof or rekenyngeye make certayne / demynge for other thyngeSuche wordes I haue / and yet it is not soWhiche causeth me / oft tymes to be wo
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Truly sayth he ye shall tell your dyseaseThan answereth she / syr syth it may you pleaseFor so the I shall you tell / this is the casThis other daye at suche a feest I wasThe whiche in trouth / me plased nothynge weleAnd wherfore I shall tell you euery deleWhan I there was / I thynke it verylyThere was no wyfe arayed soo symplyThough she were neuer of soo lowe degreAs I was than / ye may byleue well meHow be it syr / surely I saye not thisFor praysynge of my selfe / but soo it isI thaynke god of his mercy and graceThat I am comen / of as good a placeAs ony gentyl woman that was thereI me reporte / to suche as knowen whereMy lygnage and myn ancestres but lateAbydynge were / and for myn owne estateThis saye I not / sauynge I am ashamedThat ye or elles / my kynne shall be defamedNothynge care I / of clothynge what I haueSo that alwaye / your honour ye may saueAnd than sayth he / in what estate were theyAt thylke feest / now tell me I you prayeNow by my trouth / syth ye wyll knowe algateShe sayth / there was not one in her estateEgall to me / but she a newe gowne hadAnd was than better besene and cladOf what clothe were / these gownes sayth heOf scarlet fyne / of grene or perce sayth sheFurred ryght wele / with menyuer or grayWith traynes longe / and sleues large / so theyHad eke of rede / or grene / all gyrdelles good
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Hangynge vnto the grounde / and by the rodeTheyr gownes were made of the newest gyseAnd of the best maner / one coude deuyseBut there had I vpon my weddynge gowneWell ouer worne / and of the olde facyonWhiche ouer lytell / and to shorte for meIs waxen as ye may perceyue and seFor I am growen more / syth it was madeThan at my maryage / whan I it hadeFor whan I gyuen was to you aloneI was but yonge and lytell of personeAnd so moche wasted am I now for payneWhiche I of late haue had / that in certayneI seme now wele a moder for to beTo her that myght be moder vnto meAnd in good sayth so sore asshamed was IWhan that I was amonge this companyThat I ne coude ne durste make countenaunceAnd yet had I more payne and dyspleasaunceWhan that a lady there / of suche a placeAfore them all wolde saye vnto my faceGrete shame it was my clothes were so badAnd wondred why that I no better hadFor whiche they toke to me but lytell hedeUnneth they turne them wolde / so god me spedeTo warde me / saue of theyr gentylnesseOf very pyte and of lowelynesseThe good man than her husbande answered thoye knowe ryght wele that we haue moche to doWherfore my loue now herken what I sayeRemembre ye the same tyme and the dayeWhan in to maryage we entred werePlente of money / plate or other gere
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We had but small ryght wele herofye knoweFor whiche your selfe ye may suppose and troweThat it he houeth vs now for to byeBeddes and other thynges hastelyeAnd at this tyme syluerne golde in storeLytell haue we how be it ferthermoreyet must we bye / for wynnynge and encresKyne and other catelles neuerthelesIn suche a place / for our prouysyonAlso this other daye there fell a downThe pygnon of our hous / for couertureIt lacketh / wherfore dame I you assureMade must it be in haast of very nedeAnd also other maters for to spedeI haue / for whiche grete money shall I spendeOr I may brynge my werkes to an endeAnd ouer this certes within shorte spaceUnto thassyse holden at suche a placeFor me to go it is well necessaryBycause of suche a plee I may not taryeThat for your londe I haue to pursue thereOf whiche as yet I may saye this and swereI haue had lytell prouffyte or auayleBut spende my goodes / laboure and trauayleA syr she sayd / now wote I well that yeNone otherwyse can speke but repreue meOf my landes / this may I not abydeAnd in her bedde / vnto that other sydeAll hastely she turneth with a groneSayenge / for goddes loue let me aloneFor neuer shall I speke to you aga••••••What deuyll sayth this man why do y〈…〉〈…〉layneAnd are so wroth / without cause resonab••…••…
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I am not fyr / the say th / ne yet culpableThough ye but lytell had / whan ye me tokeFor dyuers to me spake / that I forsokeOf .xx. places / whiche wolde noo good craueSo that they myght onely my body haueIn maryage withouten golde or renteMy person was to them suffycyenteBut so it was / that ye ofte came and wenteAnd many a messenger vnto me senteBy suche subtyll maner crafte and meneSo that all other I refused cleneAnd had noo wyll / ony to haue but yowFor whiche grete blame & maulgre haue I nowBothe of my lorde / my fader be ye sureAnd of my moder / out of all mesuresWherof I may haue hate and grete dysdayneAnd syr this questyon I aske agayneIf ony woman / at this sayd feest thereIn suche a wyse cladde or arayed wereAs I beynge to me / in lyke estateNay syr not one / I was infortunateThyder to come / for by saynt Iohan I sayeThe symplest gownes / that they gaue a wayeUnto theyr chamberers / were better clothThan is the gowne / whiche on my body gothOn londayes / or on the holy dayeSo wote I not herof what is to sayeMoche people good out of this worlde departeWherof grete domage is / but for my parteI saye / yf god were pleased I sholde decesseTo you it wolde be lytell heuynesseFor noo dyspleasure / wolde ye for me takeBut hastely gete you an other make
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By god sayth he / that is nothynge well saydSuche symple wordes / myght aparte be laydFor there is nothynge that I for you doBut wele ye ought to take regarde thertoTurne you to me / & what thynge ye lyke bestI shall perfourme / for goddes sake let me restSayth she / now sothly nothynge alyeth meAnd wolde our lorde / that in lyke caas were yeBut neuer shall ye touche me after thisNo shall sayth he / no syr she sayth y wysTo make all wele / than thynketh he and saythIf I were deed I knowe it by my faythUnto an other / soone wolde ye maryed beNay syr by hym that dyed on a treeTouchynge suche pleasure / as I vnto this dayeHaue had in maryage / I swere and sayeDurynge my lyfe / that neuer mouth of manShall touche to myn / and she to wepe beganSayenge these wordes / to god I make auowIf that I knewe to lyue here after yowI sholde so deale / that I afore wolde goThe teeres fell downe fro her eyen twoThus he demaundeth her with wordes fayreAll be it soo / she thynketh the contrayreThe good man demeth than / he is all easedBut yet agayne / in mynde is he dyspleasedSupposynge / that of nature she is coldeOf body chast / & deale with no man woldeAlso he troweth that she hym loueth weleThus he in herte is eased euery deleBycause he seeth her som what wepe aforeHe trusteth that she loueth hym the moreWherof he hath a pyteous herte and mynde
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And can not be in rest tyll that he fyndeThe wayes how he may her content & easeAll that he can / he dooth her for to pleaseIn dyuers wyse / with laboure and trauayleBut all for nought / it may nothynge auayleFor she alwaye a wayteth for to pykeUpon the stroke that she afore dyde strykeThat is to saye / a newe gowne wolde she haueThe whiche for cruell stomocke nolde she craueShe passeth tyme / and no good wyll she doBut at suche houre as she was not wonte toUp ryseth she / and after all that dayeA cursed angry there maketh she alwayeAnd not one fayre worde than wyll she spekeSo in her breste the malyce dooth she stekeSoone after this cometh the seconde nyghtThat she to bedde must go as is it ryghtWith her good man / & whan that she is laydeIn bedde / than he whiche is not wele apaydeBeholdeth wele loketh and taketh kepeOn her to knowe / whether that she wake or slepeHe wele aduyseth yf her armes botheBe couered wele and surely with the clotheAnd heleth them yf nede or mayster beWher with anone suche countenaunce maketh sheAs thoughe she were out of her slepe a wakedSlepe ye sayth he / I thought ye had ben nakedNay syr she sayd / what be ye not appeasedSayth he / no syr myn herte is lytell easedSyghynge sayth she I thanke god of his soundeI haue yuoughe to lyue vpon the groundeBy god sayth he / dame we shall haue ynoweOf worldly goodes / and nere to her he drowe
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Sayenge I haue be thought me of a thyngeye shall be at my cosynnes weddyngeAnd ye shall haue ordeyned as goodly gereFor you as ony gentyl woman thereCertes she sayth / all thoughe ye saye the bestOf all this yere / I wyll go to no feestNow by my fayth he sayth but yet ye shallAnd what ye wyll demaunde haue gowne & allWhat I demaunde she sayth / that is ryght noughtFor syr so god me helpe that all hath wroughtI aske not to be Ioly for enuyGladde wolde I be forsothe yf neuer IOut of your hous but vnto chyrche sholde passeMatyns to here euen songe and masseI saye it not ne yet no wayes secheSauynge onely for suche vngoodly specheAs was amonges other whiche I kneweBy my gossyp / whome I fynde euer treweFor she the wordes harde all openlyThe whiche she shewed me full secretelyThan thynketh moche this poore newe wedded manAnd in his mynde to compace he beganConsyderynge in what caas that he stodeA newe husholde hauynge lytell godeAnd moche to do he had by many a wayeNot purueyed wele grete sommes to payeAnd fyfty scutes or syxty for this gowneHe must bestowe / and shortly laye it downeAnd in his thought / cast a cheuysaunceFor there may be none other waye ne chaunceBut that this gowne nedely must be hadWherwith and other gere she shall be cladFor he perceyued hath / by his aduyse
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His wyfe a woman is / bothe good and wyseHe thanketh god / the lorde of heuen blysseSo fayre a Iuell / to gyue hym as she isFrom one syde to an other / he turneth ofteIn bedde he slepeth not though he lye softeAnd it may happen soo / his wyfe this seethWhiche subtyll is / and she within her teethWyll laughe / whan that she knoweth his conceytewhome she hath ouercome / with her deceyteAfter this nyght / whan comen is the moroweAryseth vp this good man full of soroweAll ouercome with syghes / that he hath takeThe nyght afore / for his good wyues sakeAnd in auenture to the market gotheWith pawne or credence / for to by the clotheAnd straytly vnto marchauntes he hym byndethOr elles to them suche Iuelles as he fyndethWhether they be of syluer / or of goldeWhiche he somtyme had / of his fader oldeThen selleth he / or elles .x. pounde or moreOf rente in mortgage layeth he therforeShortly this man / dooth so his maters spedeThat he hath all suche thynges as in that nedeWher with he cometh home all spedylyAnd to haue thanke he demeth verylyShe syenge this / made semblaunt hym beforeAs though suche cost myght well haue ben forboreAnd that nothynge / she sette by gowne ne gayreThat he home brought with hym for her repayreCursynge all them with tonge / & not with thoughtThat fyrst so grete estate and porte vp broughtAnd whan she knewe that thynge was sure she saydTo her good man and hym besought and prayed
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He neuer sholde reproue her of the dayeThat she had made hym spende for her arayeHis money or his goodes / and neuermoreHer to rebuke / or elles vmbrayde therforeFor by the gowne set I nothynge she saythSo that I may me kepe frome colde in faythAnd alway haue one peny in my purseWhiche wyll suffyse to me though it were worseAnone was made this gowne / and eke an hoodAlso a gyrdell whiche was ryche and goodAnd now are comen the termes & the houreswhan that he must content his credytouresAnd this poore man not able is to payeBycause his golde and syluer ben awayeAnd lenger wyll they not forbere this manBut execute in all the haast they canThey curse on hym / & she the same perceyuethAnd therof all the circumstaunce conceyuethAnd perauenture afore this curse procedeOr elles after the lawe dooth hym sorbedeIn chyrche to be / wherfore his companyMen wyll esche we and grudge all vtterlyHauynge dysdayne with hym to drynke & eteAnd he but lytell hath and none can geteOf money out of daunger hym to bryngeGod wote what Ioye he hath in his lyuyngeHis wyfe goth cryenge in the hous abouteWher with a noyse she maketh and a showteAnd thus she sayth / ha cursed be the houreThat I was euer in my moders boureForth brought or borne / alas it had not happedThat in the cloth / wherin I was fyrst lappedI had be buryed / for neuer so grete shame
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Betydde to ony woman ne dyffameAs to me and my kynne / now shall belaydAlas I laboure sore / and fast she saydAnd all the laboure besynesse and costThat I haue done of many a daye is lostIn twenty places or moo I had be maryedIf I so wolde / but lyke a fole I taryedFor where I myght grete honour & auayleHaue had / and rychesse / therof now I fayleI knowe how that theyr wyues be byseneThat wolde haue maryed me / which doth meAnd therfore haue I heuynesse and woThat deth the lyfe nyll take my body froThus she complayneth her withouten careOf her husbande / or how the good man fareFor hooly she hath sette her mynde vponHer owne estate / and shortely she is gonUnto this maryage / and where she sholdeHaue thought vpon her husbande she ne woldeBut to this poore man putteth all the wyteLyke as an hors that can bothe playne & byteThis woman dooth / and she is cause of allFor she this man hath made so bestyallSom what for sorowe / or elles wyse by playeThat well nygh wasted is his wytte a wayeSo that he wyll not vnderstonde ne knoweThat she is in defaute / wyll he not troweAnd though he se the maters euydentyet of necessytee he is contentBut of the thought & sorowes to enquereIt is but waast / syth ye the causes hereOf this man whiche can neyther rest ne slepeThat thynketh euery houre and taketh kepe
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How that he may in ease this woman setteAnd fynde some remedy to paye his detteBut yet is he more angry for his wyfeWhiche curseth hym / than all that other stryfeThus soroweth he / in pouertee downe fallAnd frome that payne recouer neuer shallPrycked he is / but smarte can he none feleThat all is Ioye / to hym it semeth weleThus is this man within the lepe yclosedAnd parauenture so he is dysposedThat he nothynge therof dooth hym repentFor yf that he out of the same were hentSoone wolde he go agayne in to that gynneAnd all his payne and woo newly begynneyet sholde he neuer be in soo good casAs he hath ben afore he maryed wasAnd there this poore man shall vse his lyfeEndynge his dayes in wretchednes & stryfe
¶Thus endeth the fyrst Ioye of maryage.
¶Here begynnes the se∣conde Ioye of maryage.
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[illustration]
AS for the seconde Ioye of maryageIt is whan yt this wyfe of her courageFeleth that she so rychely is arayedIn suche a wyse as here tofore is saydAnd knoweth well ynough yt she is fayreThan wyll she go frome home to take the ayreTo many feestes and assembles ekeAnd also holy sayntes for to sekeOn dyuers pylgrymages wyll she goAll though the husbande be not pleased soHer Iourney enterpryseth she to rydeWith her cosyon and gossyppes at a tydeAnd specyally for her kynnesmannes sakeHer pylg•••••…•••••… deuoutly wyll she takeAnd perauenture yet it may soo beThat this man is as nyghe kynne vnto weAs vnto her / but soo hym for to call
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wonte and accustomed is she ouerallIt may be thought for some entent or causeShe calleth hym soo / but there I leue a clauseHer moder than seynge her besynesseCometh somtyme to this man I gesseAnd as a woman can begynne to clatterShe sayth his herte to tycle and flatterThis foresayd man / her cosyn is of blodeFor her to go with suche a company is goodAnd other whyle the husbande is lotheThat she sholde go / sayth sadly by his otheHow he none horses hath ne other thyngeHer to conuey to feest or gaderyngeThan shall the gossyp or her cosyn sayeI am ryght lothe by god and by this dayeTo go / for myn hous so god me spedeMoche thynge haue I to do of very nedeAnd were it not honour to you and meSpeke wolde I not as now so mote I theFor syr soo god me helpe I knowe it weleyour wyfe to go is pleased neuer a deleShe is a woman leest that loueth waastOf ony lyuynge / for euer she dooth haastHome warde whan she at ony place is outeFor your expence & charge she hath suche douteSo this good man / whos wysdome is to secheAnd sore abused with theyr flaterynge specheDemaundeth who goth in this campanyOf men and other / and she sayth certaynlyMy cosyon and my godfader alsoMy god moder and many an other moyour moder in lawe / whiche is your wyues moderMy good cosyn your wyfe / and dyuers other
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Also the wyues of suche a place in dedeAnd your cosyn and hers haue ye no dredeOther there be mo / dwellynge in your streteI dare well saye this company is meteA kynges doughter for to be amongeAnd be ye sure she wyll not tarye longeSoo is this sely man on honoure setteThat in no wyse wyll he this vyage letteAnd perauenture she that thus dooth spekeShall haue a go wne or other thynges to brekeThe mater that the persone may be playdAnd thus it falleth ofte as it is saydHe sayth this company is good and fayreBut she moche hath to do / and grete reparreAt home how be it / for to goo as thanShe hath a lycence gyuen by this manwhiche to her sayth / be ware how by the dayesye be demeaned trauaylynge on your wayesAlso take hede at nyght ye lodge you sureAnd god you kepe frome euyll auentureThe good wyfe than / whiche doth perceyue & hereThat she hath leue / maketh coūtenaunce & chereAt home for to abyde yet had she leuerThan forth to ryde / & from her home dysseuerShe sayth my loue this tyme no cause haue IOut for to goo with suche a companyI praye you that I may not goo this seasonHer cosyn than was nyghe herynge that reasonAnswered and sayd / what cosyn ye shall gooyour gentyll husband wyll that it be sooThe good man than a lytell abacke doth draweAnd thus he sayth vnto his moder in laweNe were it for the trust I haue in yow
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She sholde not go / this make I god auowHa my good sone she sayth by heuen kyngeThat made this worlde / and euery other thyngeye may as surely and withouten dredeSuffre her to go as for to saye your credeThus they departe and on theyr waye be goneAnd as they go / these wordes than sayth oneUnto an other he hath some IalousyeIt semeth wele he dredeth IeopardyeThus is he mocked by these womens arteFor now come galauntes forth on euery partewhiche at the feest afore by auentureThis foresayd werke haue made and put in vreAnd there awaytynge ben vpon theyr nedeFor to conclude and so forth to procedeBut how this wyfe now fested is & seruedFor loue of her good man all vndeseruedAnd god wote how she doth herselfe applyeTo reuell daunce / and for to synge on hyeAlso she maketh good and mery chereBut god wote how she prayseth her bedfereThe husbande lefte at home whyle she is outeAnd seeth herselfe so praysed amonge the routeCertes these galauntes than her do aduyseAnd se she is apparaylled in suche wysePerceyuynge well her chere and countenaunceShortely to hex eche one hym doth auaunceOne profreth moche / an orher offreth moreHarde is to me the cause to tell wherforeThe Ioly chere the praty trotte and pacewith the demeanynge of a womans faceWyll gyue these louers cause & hardynesseTo sewe for grace vnto theyr worthynesse
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One to her wordes gracyous dooth sayeAnd other comēth asnygh her as he mayAnd setteth his fote a lofte on hers playneEke by the honde quyckly he doth her strayneAlso an other his loke casteth a sydeFull pyteously and sharpely for a tydeAn other than vnto her dooth presenteA dyamonde ryght fayre and oryenteOr elles a ryche rubye with a ryngeWhiche she receyueth with some other thyngeBy whiche thynges may she well vnderstandeOf theyr entent / and fele it with her handeIf she haue ony reason brayne or wytAnd other whyles by fortune happeth itThat frome her chayre alyght wyll she adownTo doo some werkes of deuocyonOr vnto Uenus to doo sacrefyseBut how can I not saye ne in what wyseThis sely man at home in poore degreeIs made and brought vnto necessyteeFor thylke estate that his wyfe doth pretendeThe mater thus hath dryuen to an endeAnd made her go to gaderynges and feestesAmonge a wycked company of gestesFor vnto her they yolden be in trustTo haue theyr pleasures appetytes and lustUpon none other thynge do they aweyteBut how they may doo this poore man deceyteThe stroke wherof he hath without escapeWhiche comynly is called but a IapeSo he is causer of his propre shameNone other wyght therof is for to blameAnd thus it happeth by contynuaunce
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That what by sygnesspeche or countenaunceTrouth of the thynge wherof he was in douteAll openly reported is abouteWherby he falleth Ialouse in a rageOut of the whiche there is no wyght so sageThat hym can moue / for who that feruentlyOf woman feleth the cruell maladyThere is no medycyne that may hym cureThe sekenesse is so sharpe without mesureThan wyll he bete her bytterly and curseWherby the werkes maketh he moche worseFor chastyce can he not by daye ne nyghtHis wyfe but by his betynge maketh lyghtAnd hote the loue bytwne her & her frendeThus dryueth he the mater to an endeAnd soo he other whyles fortune mayOne of her lymmes breke or kytte a wayWherby his castell or his pyle he losethThan as a mased beest he hym dysposythWithouten care and all he setteth at noughtThus hath he founde ye payne whiche he hath soughtAnd neuer after wyll she loue hym moreBycause that he hath beten her so soreBut for to passe the tyme and make a she weAnd of fayre wordes speketh she but feweThere this poore man in turment payne & woLyueth and yet he thynketh not soAnd all these soro wes / he for Ioyes doth takeSoo in the lepe he is I vndertakeEnclosed depe / and yfhe were withouteYet shortely wolde he in withouten douteThere vseth he his lyfe in paynes alwayesAnd wretchedly / thus endeth he his dayes
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Thus endeth the seconde Ioye of maryage.
¶Here begynneth the thyrde Ioye of maryage.
[illustration]
ANother Ioye whiche named is the thryddeOf maryage in no wyse may be hyddeThe whiche I purpose shortely to dclareAccordynge to myn auctour and not spareThe whiche is whan man in youth doth weddeA yonge mayde / and whan they bothe in beddeHaue had theyr pleasures largely and desyreAnd well aswaged is the brennynge fyreThe hoot heruest is well ouerbloweAs it with me and other is I troweSoone after this her bely doth aryse
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And waxeth grete / as is the comyn gyseWherof the husbande alwaye hath the nameAnd perauenture he nothynge to blameIs of the dede / for so it happeth ofteAs some men saye in preuy counseyllsofteAnd therat meryly wyll laughe or humBut this is de secretes mulierumThe husbande than in to suche thought doth fallAnd turmentes that he ronne and trotte shallTo gete the wyfe all she shall nedeForth on his Iourney swyftely doth he spedeAnd yf he tryppe or stomble by the wayeHe may fall in the myre by nyght or dayeAnd grete auenture shall be yf he bryngeUytaylles that may be good to her lykyngeAll thoughe he hath done neuer so grete payneWhyles he was out / tyll he came home agayneAnd ofte it happeth so that for suche meteAs comynly she vsed hath to eteBothe lust and appetyte from her do pasBycause her stomacke is not as it wasThan she desyreth to haue thynges straungeAnd noueltees her dyerte for to chaungeFor whiche this poore man must trotte on foteOr elles ryde there is none other boteBothe nyght & daye / to gete where he may fyndeSuche delycates as may content her myndeAnd in this turment seuen yeres and moreIs this good man / and yet she euermoreNothynge wyll do but playe the wanton soThat therof pyte hath this husbande thoWhiche of the hous alwaye the charge doth bereAnd se all thynges well ordred euery where
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Erly to ryse / and late to goo to beddeHe must and se all maters be wellspedeAnd on his husholde / after suche estateAs he is of remembreth he algateNow dooth the tyme approche of trauaylyngeAnd she a chylde in to the worlde shall bryngeGod faders than in haast / god moders ekeAs she wyll ordre / besyly to sekeHe hath grete thought and out goth in an heteThe nourysses and gossyppes for to geteWhiche must her kepe of chylde whyle she lyeth inWhat tyme his double sorowe dooth begynFor so they drynke the wyne in euery houreAs in to olde botes one dyde it poureNow lyenge in her trauayle payne and woThis wyfe auoweth twenty waye and moOn pylgrymage to go for her good spedeTo be put out of her grete payne and dredeThis poore man auoweth eke for torydeUnto all halowes / and now on euery sydeThe gossyppes come / and this good man must geteSuche vytayles as they may well drynke and eteSo that they may in suche a wyse be easedAs they shall holde them well content & pleasedThis done / the wyfe and gossyppes talke togyderAnd fast they carye in for drede of wederAll be it soo / this good man hath the payneThat trauayle must in wynde snowe hayle or rayneAnd whan he is forth passed on his wayeOne of the gossyppes wyll these wordes sayeAlas my gossyp whiche now is withouteAn harde fytte hath / that am I out of douteA foule and euyll weder now it is
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No force an other sayth so haue I blysseHe is ryght wele at ease / and so be weBut yf it fortune soo / somtyme that heFayle of suche thynge as were vnto theyr payeOne of the gossyppes to the wyfe shall sayeGossyp I meruayle moche / and so dooth allThis felawshyp / that it so is befallAnd we haue wonder what it may amountThat your husbande doth make so lytell countOf you or of your yonge chylde here in troutheA gentyll herte wolde pyte haue and routheBeholde it wele / conceyue what he wolde doyf ye had chyldren fyue or syxe yet moIt doth appere he leuoth you but lyteWherof bothe ye and we may haue dyspyteConsydred where ye lust hym for to takeHe hath more honoure truely for your sakeThan euer ony of his lygnage boreHaue had in dayes passed heretoforeBy god I saye / that is our lorde IhesusRather than my husbande serued me thusI had well leuer / eyther he were deedOr elles that he none eye had in his heedThan sayth an other / gossyp fynde some boteLet not this man thus cast you vnderfoteFor he shall doo to you whan ye be laydeAs moche agayne or more / now haue I saydeAn other sayth / my cosyon I meruayleye take no more regarde to your auayleConsydred / ye be wyse of good lygnageAnd he not lyke to you / though maryageHath coupled you and all men hygh & loweHow ye hym suffre vnderstonde and knowe
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And he doth you so grete domage alwayeThan doth the wyfe answere agayne and sayeTruely my dere gossyppes what is the bestTo do as in this caas so haue I restNothynge knowe I ne wayes fynde I canTo helpe my selfe he is so euyll manAn euyll man he is / one of them saythBut I shall tell you truely by my faythMy gossyppes that be here / they knowe well whanI was fyrst maryed to myn husbande thanMen sayd he was so dyuers of his wyllThat it was wonder but he wolde me kyllBy god my gossyp though he so were namedI thanke our lorde he is now ryght wele tamedFor he had leuer fall and breke his armeThan me to do dyspleasure hurte or harmeBut fyrst whan we togyder maryed wereTo speke than he began with angry chereAnd for to stryke as dooth a carlysshe monBut by the sacrament of god anonFast with my tethe I toke the brydell soThat he me bette no more, but tymes twoWherin he played the very fole and moreFor after was I moche wors than beforeAnd he hath tolde my gossyp sykerlyThat he in me coude put no remedyNow may I speke and do all that I wyllAnd be it ryght or wronge vntrouth or, skyllAlwaye with me the last worde shall remayneSo whan he speketh I chekke hym vp agayneThere is no game lyke it / whiche is to playeWith players and put besynesse awayeFor gossyp neuer man yet was so harde
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I you eusure but yfhe be answardeWell by his wyfe she shall soone make hym freAnd debonarye / yf that she wytty beAn other sayth / my cosyn be well wareye speke to hym / and for no drede ye spareWhan he cometh home / and saye the best ye canAnd in this wyse / gouerned is this manThan drynke they fast & saye saynt Iohn̄ to boroweAnd take theyr leue vnto the nexte moro weWhat tyme agayne they wyll retourne to seThe maner all / how she shall gouerned beBut whan this poore man cometh home agayneWith vytaylles and with other thynge certayneAnd seeth there is grete waast made in his housOf goddes and he is inly couetousThan salleth he heuynesse and payneFor thought that hym doth by the herte constrayneAn houre or two by nyght he doth aryueFor he hath comen ferre to se his wyueAnd for to vnderstonde yet ferthermoreHow that she dooth / he coueyteth ryght soreWhether she be hole / or how it with her isIn ony wyse to knowe wyll he not mysOne nyght frome home he dare not lodge withouteOf his expence he hath suche fere and douteIn to his hous with Ioye entred is heAnd all his seruauntes there in theyr degreInstructed be and taught in suche a wyseLyke as the good wyfe lyst afore deuyseFor elles though neuer so good & true were thayThey sholde not tarye there well halse a dayeNow he demaundeth how the good wyfe dothAnd therof wyll he vnderstonde the soth
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Than sayth her chamberer whiche dooth her kepeSyr she is very seke and may not slepeSyth ye departed hens ete myght she notBut lytell she amended is god wotThan is this man all sorowfull and saddeWhiche hath ben wette wt reyne & harde bestaddeFor oftentyme by hym and other mooParauenture it may well happen sooThat he is faynte and his hors at assayeFor he hath passed by an euyll wayeAnd they percas of all the daye aforeHaue neyther dronke ne eten lasse ne moreAnd yet wyll not this poore man ete a bytteTyll tyme that he may vnderstonde & wytteHow his wyfe dooth / & than the chambrerereOlde matrones / & the nouryse drawen nereAnd seruauntes whiche enfourmed ben how theyAfter theyr charge shall them demeane alweyThey she we theyr personages as they were wrothThan wyll not he abyde / but vp he gothIn to the chambre / comynge her agayneAnd at his entre / softely she dooth playneUpon the bedde afore her leneth heSayenge my bestbyloued how do yeRyght seke she sayth my lorde / and than he thereDemaundeth how in what a wyse and whereMy loue sayth she / ye knowe well that oflateI am made feble / and in poore estateThan answereth he to her as in this wyseHaue ye not ordeyned so that some colyseOf a fatte capon for you may be madeNow syr so god me helpe / ryght so I haddeShe sayth of late / but they it can not make
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In fayth quod he loue I shall vndertakeTo make you one full well and holsomlyThe whiche shall no man touche but ye and IAnd ye shall ete it for the loue of meShe sayth my loue I wyll well it so beThis good man than goth to the coke in hastHe stampeth fast and ordeyned herrepastFast chydeth he / and sayth they be but bestesFor they can dyght no metes at requestesThan hastely he dooth this soupynge bereUnto this wyfe / and whan he cometh thereWith prayer he enforceth her to takeSomwhat therof and ete well for his sakeAnd so she dooth and sayth syr good it isBut so was not that they haue made or thisFor it was nothynge worth a symple fleAnd with that worde frome her departeth heTo souper / and adowne he dooth hym fetteAnd therupon the vytaylles be forth fetteNone of the delycates that gossyppes eteThe daye afore / whiche were not for hym meteNot perauenture of the messes che••eHe had but of the fragmentes and belefeWhereof the olde wyues haue take theyr fyllAnd god wote in what wyse they dranke theyrtyllThus was this wery man at souper feddeWher with he is content and goth to beddeAll sobrely with heuynesse and soro weAnd whan that comen is the nexte inoro weUnto his wyfe he góoth / and in this wyseHe sayth / my loue tyme is ye a wake and ryseAnd go to masse for we so moche do spendeThat all our money nygh is at an ende
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This cost is grete / we may not bere out itAnd she answereth a syr it is not yetNo whyle syth I was layde / & so grete payneI haue that yet I can not well sustayneMyselfe / but now I wote it and byleueYe thynge it longe / & sore it doth you greueThat I ne laboure in the hous agayneIn suche a wyse as though I sholde be slayneI vnderstonde it is your mynde and wyllThat iu this wyse I sholde my selfe do kyllAlas I se in tyme to come that IRyght moche shall haue to su••••••e certaynlyIf that I sholde haue x or xii. yet moChyldren / but god defende that it be soFor yf it myght hym please I wolde be gladdeThat neuer one after this tyme I haddeAnd please it to god that I more chylde haue neuerBut his cōmaundement be perfourmed euerIn me and all his wyll lowly obeydHa sayd this man / alas what haue ye saydYe mone yourselfe without cause or enchesonFor I dare saye and make it good by reosonWas neuer poore man yet of myn estateThat suffre hath soo moche as I of lateFrome hens forth in it shall me lyke & pleaseThat whan ye wyll ye aryse or take your easeThan sayth she thus / my counseyll is that oneGo streyght vnto my gossyppes all anoneAnd saye to them they come no more to meFor I am euyll dysposed in certaynteMy loue sayth he they shall come and haue allSuche thynges as may them please in specyallSyr than sayth she / no more let me be styll
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And do ye all thynges as it is your wyllThan cometh a matrone with a wryngled faceAn olde kepster with whome is lytell graceAnd to the good man out her mynde doth brekePease syr she sayth / no mo suche wordes spekeFor to a woman that is voyde of brayneAnd feble / and so tender in certayneGrete peryll is to speke so in her payneAnd ther withall she draweth the courtayneSo doth this man lyue sorowfully alwayesAnd wretchedly so shall he ende his dayes
¶ Here endeth the thyrde Ioye of maryage.
¶ Here begynneth the fourth Ioye of maryage.
[illustration]
THe fourth Ioye of maryage to tellIs as to go fronte purgatorye to hell
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For it is whan he whiche hath maryed beKepynge an housholde after his degrewhere he hath dwelled styll .viii. yeres euenAnd hath of yonge chyldren ••••r•• or seuenPassynge full many an euyll nyght & dayeUnhappely as ye haue herde me sayewherof he hath had many an euyll endeThus is his youth gretely made colde & spendeAnd it were tyme for hym sore to re••••••teIf that he coude / as synners sholde in lenteBut of his hous whiche he must kepe algateHe is soo inly wery and soo mateThat what someuer the wyfe wyll speke or doNought careth he / ne taketh hede thertoFor he as harde and dull is as an assewhiche for no prycke ne sporre wyll faster passeThis poore man doughters hath yet one or twayneThe whiche may fortune wolde be maryed fayneThey redy be and on the houre they taryeAwaytynge fast who wyll come them to maryeThey be in Ioye▪and it may happen toThe man is poore / and lyueth in care & woNygh moneyles / and hath no grete substaunceFor maryage to make his cheuysaunceAlso vnto his sones he must byeHis doughters & his other small meynyeDoublettes hosyn kyrtels and vytayleAnd many an other thynge withouten fayleHis sayd doughters he must repayre and kepeAll honestely and gaye / elles wyll they wepeAnd for thre thynges this nedely must be doneOne is bycause they may be asked soneOf dyuers galauntes dwellynge them aboute
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An other is withouten ony douteAll were it so that this good man ne woldeyet so to be / for nothynge it ne sholdeFor why the wyfe hath passed the same waysAnd she ne wyll it suffre by this dayeAlso there is an other reason whyBycause they haue good myndes & hertes hyeAnd are accustomed to be fresshe & gayFor otherwyse wyll they not be ne mayAnd in auenture yf they otherwyseEntred were / anone they wolde practyseTo haue theyr Iolynettes / for helpe and easeBut there an ende / of that I holde my peaseSo is this man on euery parte dysmaydThese charges berynge / as afore is saydAnd perauenture soo he is bestaddeThat symplely and poorely he is claddeOf whiche araye yet careth he nothyngeSo he may haue a passe tyme and lyuyngeAnd this suffyseth well to hym alwayeAs to the fyss he doth in the lepe to playeWhyles he may haue a tyme and suffraunceTherin to lyue and languysshe ni penaunceAnd yet therby abbredged ben his dayesSo fareth it by suche a man alwayesThe whiche in to the lepe of housholdyngeIs put where he shall suffre suche turmentyngeAs I haue sayd / and other innumerableAnd thus he seeth these thynges so chargeableThat all he sette at nought soo he lyue mayAs doth an hors morfounded by the wayeWhiche none accompte doth set by sporre ne thyngeThat may to hym be done in trauaylyage
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This not withstondynge / wheder he wyll or notForth hym behoueth for to goo and trotTo gouerne londe and lyuelode whiche is hisRyght after suche estate as he of isAnd perauenture he hath horsest wayneThe whiche be lene & poore for lacke of grayneAnd it soo fortune may he hath but oneOr yet not one / but forth he gooth anoneAnd .xx. myle or fourty from his placeHe trauaylleth / within a lytell spaceUnto the parlyament / or to thassyseWhere he hath for to sewe in dyuers wyseFor suche a cause▪as other thynges amongeHath ben dependant in the lawe there longeA payre of botes well of thre yeres oldeOr foure he hath to kepe his legges frome coldeThe whiche full ofte haue mended ben aloweRyght craftely for drede it sholde be knoweSo that parte whiche was somtyme on the kneAmyddes the shynne must nedely vsed beFull ofte they chaunged haue theyr former faceAnd that hath brought them from aboue so baceA rustye payre of sporres he hath ekeWherof one of the rowelles be to sekeAlso of .x. yeres olde he hath a gowneNot of the newest gyse ne facyowneThe whiche for drede that he sholde it appereExcepte on hygh feestes he nolde it wereOr elles whan he frome home sholde go or rydeAll other tymes it was layde clene a sydeThe cause why it was of so olde a shappeMay be for soo it fallen is by happeThat gownes be made all in a newe gyfe
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But this to hym dooth well ynoughe suffyfeAnd in his wayes yf that he se or hereOny Instrumentes or playes ay they answereAs semeth hym by so wynge in his ereOf his housholde bycause his mynde is thereHe lyues harde and poorely by the wayesSo do his horses / and his page alwayesWhiche page is all to ragged and to rentAs pluto was that rode to parlyamentUpon his syde a rustye sworde and badHe ware the whiche his mayster goten hadIn flaunders at a bataylle / also heThose bowges caryed that were wonte to beOfte vsed to conueye bothe nygh and farreHis legge harneys alwayes in tyme of warreSortely to speke / he doth all that he mayWith lytell cost to trauayle by the wayeFor he at home ynough hath for to spendeAlso these aduocates to hym offendeSergeauntes gryffyers / and suche a companyeSo largely take of hym that he doth hyeHome warde as fast as he his hors can dryueAnd perauenture whan he cometh to his wyueIt is nygh the mornynge as the nyghtAnd whan he is at home he doeth alyghtWhere he noo souper fynde can ne espyeBycause his wyfe and other companyeUnto theyr beddes were gone som what aforeOr he came home / but he dare saye no moreBut taketh all in pacyence and greeFor here vnto accustomed hath he beAnd yf it happe that he come in good houreWery and sadde with trauayle and laboure
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Pensyfe heuy / and of his charges greuedSupposynge to be welcomed and releuedHow be it many tymes he hath hadAnd he doth thynke ryght euyll chere & badThe good wyfe chydeth than & clappeth fastAs though a tempest were or thonder blastWithin the hous / and yf that this good manLyst to cōmaunde / or bydde his seruaūtes thanTo gete hym ony thynge that he wolde haueThere is not in his hous so lewde a knaueThat maketh accompte therby ne wyll obeySo by theyr dame afore taught ben all theyWherfore to speke he loseth tyme and payneBut she ther with be pleased in certayneAnd yf his ladde in ony wyse demandeMete for hym selfe / or for his hors prouandeHe shall be checked and rebuked soThat he shall not dare speke suche wordes moAlso this poore man that is soo lageWyll make no noyse for hymne for his pageBut taketh all in pacyence and saythDame ye do well / and yours in good faythTher with she answereth hym all hastelyye haue more lost and spent now folylyThan ye wyll wynne of all these yerest wayeI tolde you late in twenty deuylles wayeye sholde haue made ourhenhous close or nowA martron eten hath this tell I yowThre of myn olde hennes ye shall perceyueWhat harme we haue therby / thus ye deceyueBy god I knowe yfye may lyue your ageye shall be poorest man of your lygnageFayre dame sayth heno mosuche wordes saye
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I haue ynough / and so shall haue alwayOur lorde I thanke / and yf it do hym pleaseI am content / and thynke me well at easeFor of my kynred there ben full ryght good menIn your kynred / hase now / sayth she thenBy saynt Mary / I knowe not where they beAnd at the leest I coude them neuer seDame by my fayth he sayth / some be ryght godeOf my lygnage / I wolde ye vnderstodeThe whiche be worthe as moche or more than yeWhat they / she sayth / be they lyke vnto meye dame sayth he / nay syr by god sayth sheI tell you well your dedes were but smallwithout my frendes helpe in especyallNow fayre dame / for goddes loue sayth heHaue pacyence / and lete suche wordes beCertes she sayth / yf that my frendes were hereAnd you suche / wordes had / they wolde answereyou well ynough / then he the mater feresLeest it by her / sholde come vnto theyr eresWherfore to kepe all thynges in pacyenceNo more sayth he / but resteth with sylenceAnd here with all / begynneth for to wepeA lytell chylde / that can not go but crepeAnd she anone / a rodde taketh in her handeAnd in dyspyte / of this good poore husbandeMore than for other cause or chastysyngeUpon the buttockes / she dooth it bete and dyngeThis lytell babe / and than he sayth no moreBete it fayre dame / and waxeth wrothe therforeAnd she begynneth for to chyde and cryeIn all the deuylles names of hell on hyeTo gouerne them / she sayth ye haue no payne
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They cost you nought / but I haue cause to playneFor alway vpon them I must attendeGod gyue it shamefull deth / and euyll endeHa fayre dame sayth he / that is foule saydwith that the nouryce shortely dooth out braydeAnd sayth a syr / full lytell do ye knoweThe sorowe that here is amonge vs I troweAnd what payne that it were to you / yf yeSholde kepe and nourysshe them so as do weNow by my trouth / than sayth the chamberereIt is grete shame to you syr / wyll ye hereFor whan that you come home / we sholde be fayneOf your comynge / but ye make noyse and playneAnd all your hous / ye set in grete debateThis man seynge this / and ther with is chekmateHow he on euery syde is prycked soreAnd he can gete no remedy therforeAll wery gooth he souperles to beddeAnd yf he soupe / god wote how he is feddeOr eased / after he to slepe dooth lye,And hereth all the nyght his chyldren cryeFor wytyngly the nouryce and the moderDo let them crye / they wyll it be none otherIn grete dyspyte of hym whiche all the nyghtDooth passe in sorowe / vnto the dayes lyghtAll these tourmentes / he for Ioye dooth holdeFor why / none otherwyse he lyue ne woldeTherfore he is / and alway shall abydeIn sorowe thought / and care on euery sydeAnd wretchydly his dayes in payne and woHe shall endure / and make an ende ryght so
¶Here endeth the fourth Ioye of maryage.
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¶Here begynneth the fyfth Ioye of maryage.
[illustration]
OF marayge for to declare or wryteThe fyfth Ioye / now god wolde I were quyteSo lytell fruyte or pleasure stante therinThat I am wery falfe or I begynWhiche is whan yt the good man whiche is maryedLonge tyme in trauayle hath / and wo taryedAnd many a payne endured hath beforeWhose youth is gretely ouer drawen therforeAnd he is veray wery faynte and mateBut by auenture it may so be algateHe hath a wyfe more greter of lygnageThen he / and eke more yonger of heraege
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The whiche be two grete and doutfull thyngesTo medle with / and namely in weddyngesFor better none can do hymselfe to wasteThan in these twayne / to lappe or put in hasteHis body / and well vnderstonde it whyFor two repungnaunce / they be truelyWherfore agaynge nature it were and ryghtThey sholde accorde by daye or elles nyghtAnd other whyles so is that he and sheSome chylde may haue / or elles that none there beThis not withstandynge she is nothynge setteTo payne / for why / the good mau wyll not letteBut she be kepte in pleasure ease and weleWherfore he traueyleth / and dooth euery deleWhiche is to mayntene suche a Ioly stateAnd costyous / as she wyllkepe algateAnd yf she wolde haue thynge that there is notThat she may haue it / he wyll go or troteFor she wyll not make lo wer ne empeyreHer lygnage by her dyete ne her geyreThe husbande taketh all this for honoureAnd thanketh god entyerly of that houreIn whiche he of his grace / her hath hym sentSo what she dooth or sayth he is contentAnd often tyme it happeth at a tydeWhan they begyn / to vercyfy or chydeShe sayth to hym by maner of manaceYe knowe ryght well / of what an house or placeI comen am / and was not gyuen to theA drabble or elles a dreuyll for to beShe sayth as soone / as I wyll sende or wryteUnto my kynne and frendes of this dyspyteAnone they wyll come hyder for tose
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How I do here / and therfore dare not heFor ony cause / ones touche her with his handeWith staffe ne stycke / for all his goodes and landeThough he with mouthe / grete wordes hath ysayd.As styll he is / and muet as a maydeIn bondage grete / me semeth that he isAnd so it may well be that she or thisHad by her frendes maryed ben aforneUnto / a rycher man / and better borneThan he / and in a hygher state be setteIf that in her had ben no faute ne letteBut for there was before some lytell IapeThat in her yought fortuned for to scapeTo cole her thryst / as dyuers folkes well troweShe had not elles ben maryed hafe so lo weWherof the husbande had no knowlegyngeOr perauenture he hath herde some thyngeBut this good man / of suche fayth and beleueIs made / that this thynge lytell dooth hym greueFor he hath herde it, sayde / and so worne or thenOf many folkes / and of ryght good menThat all suche cursed langage was contryuedAgaynst his wyfe / and he the same beleuedThey saye it is bostynges and auauntesMade by the meanes of Ioly frsshe galauntesAnd other sklaundrers that speketh shameOf women good / and falsely them defameWhan they togyders in the stretes walkeThus of good men and women wyll they talkeWhat tyme that they nothynge may elles doUnthryfrely thus speke they euer moWherin god wote / grete sȳne do they & wrongesIn suche vngoodly wyse to vse theyr tonges
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And yf so be this wyfe beholde and seHer husbande beynge in so lo we degreThat he all Ioye hath lefte / dysporte and playeThynkynge to make a cheuysaunce some wayeUpon her lande / or elles it may be fallOf cheuysaunce he hath ynough at allAnd is a very nygarde / and a chyncheThat wyll not frely spende / but spare and pyncheThe whiche no pleasaunt thynge is to the wyfeThat purposeth to lyue a lusty lyfeBycause that she in seasons of the yereWyll haue these noueltees / though they be dereAs well in vytayle / gounes as atyreGrydels and other thynges at her desyreLyke as she seeth her felawes vse and wereAt feestes and daunces euery whereThere as her cosyns / and her gossyppes beAnd with an other man / that alwayes sheUseth to call her cosyn euermoAnd peraduenture yet he is not soAlso somtymes well it fortune mayThat for the grete pleasures ease and playShe hath / and seeth in many a sundry wyseDysdayne her husbande she wyll and dyspyseAnd make a frende / suche as she wyll desyreHer hasbande then / in water or in fyreMay lye / for she wyll loue hym neuermoreSom folke wolde deme she were to blame therforeBut ye must take the mater otherwyseFor all is longe vpon his couytyseAnd he is sadde / and in perplexyteBut she is lyght / and in prosperyteNot entred into thought ne negardy▪
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She is but yonge / and so she wyll applyHer youthe in pleasure / lustes and delyteAege is not mete vnto her appetyteSo louynge is she / to her loue and kyndeThat to suche place / as she demeth hym to fyndeOfte wyll she take / her Iourney forthe and walkeOr secretely / and softly forthe wyll she stalkeUnto her frende / that lusty is and fressheFor veray loue her lymmes to refressheAnd it may happen many tymes that sheSauynge her worshyp / seldon may hym seThen for to speke her good name and honoureHer messenger she sendeth at an houreThat he shall come / and se her hastelyThe whiche is done ryght well and honestlySoone after this / whan comen is the nyghtAnd this good man and she withouten lyghtBe layde in bedde / and he somwhat wolde playWith her / whose mynde is with her frende awayThis gentyll galaunt / whome of .viii. dayes & moShe hath not seen / and yet it may be soThat on the moro we he wyll come for his wageAll hote and hasty / hongry in a rageFor perauenture he hath suche a tatcheThat he hath morned sore / and keped watcheBothe in the gardyns / also in the streteAnd they ne myght yet of longe tymes meteNe speke to gyder / but on the moro we whanThis man shall come / he wyll be hasty thanHis appetyte and h••nger to aswageGrete and wonder is / to speke of his courageAnd it may fortune otherwyse I troweThat they haue had leyser ynough to knowe
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And so suche pleasure / as a man may thynkeBut I dare neyther speke ne loke but wynkeMyn auctour wryteth / but so wyll not IThat she demeaneth her ryght wantonlyHe sayth an hondred thynges she can makeThat toucheteth loue / for her good frendes sakeAnd many a token wyll shewe and sygneOf loue / / the whiche I can not well deuyneShe maketh eke melancolyes amongeWhiche to her husbande made she not of longeAlso her loue dooth besynes and payneTo do her pleasure / as he can agayneSo many praty Iapes he wyll begynThat she grete Ioye / and conforte hath therinAnd those suche maner Iapes ben or playeThat wedded men can not / ne wyll assayeAnd yf the can / afore or that they weddeThose they forbere / and set at nought in beddeWherfore to she we it to a wyfe or techeThe whiche more able is to rede or precheThen for to lerne percase moche more than heThe good wyfe can in her necessyteTherfore he wyll not teche her in that guyseFor she / than he more connynge is and wyseNow whan this wyfe / her loue hath at her wyllAnd they haue tyme / and leaser to fulfyllTheyr appetytes / suche Ioyes as they sheweTogyder / men haue herde of but a feweFor there no wyght is / that can tell or sayeThe pleasure that haue ben betwene them twayeAnd so she hath had suche dysporte and spedeThat nothynge prayseth she her husbandes dedeAfter the whiche pleasures / Ioye and game
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As grete delyte / and pleasure taketh the dameOf her good man / as one that tasteth wyneWhiche hath reboyled / and wyll neuer fyneAfter he hath dronke good wyne or yopocrasAnd other whyle yet / thus may stande the caseA drynker good whiche hath a feruent thyrsteAnd drynketh small and musty wynes fyrsteHe thynketh them good ynough / his thyrst so greteIs / and the dryenes of his mouthe and heteBut after he therof hath dronke his fyllHe fyndeth a cursed tarage and an yllAnd yf that he sholde drawe agayne and tasteyet though he myght / he nolde vnto it hasteBut in defaute of better wene it wereRyght so knowe ye that this good wyfe dooth hereThe whiche her louer / alway hath at nedeAt her desyres / suche maters for to spedeAnd taketh a taste somtyme at requestOf her husbande / for lacke of her good gestTo passe the tyme and dryue the nyght awayeBut other whyle / whan he hath luste to playeAnd she not so / she sayth lete me be styllAbyde / and towardes mornynge doyour wyllNay certes dame / so wyll I not sayth heWherfore I pray you / torne you vnto meNay loue she sayth / by god and by saynt Mayreye shall do me grete pleasure for to taryeUnto the moro we / and then he torneth awayeAnd dare not touche her ne no mo wordes sayeSo all the nyght / he lyeth styll in restAnd slepeth metely well at her requestThen this good wyfe / that on her loue dooth thyngeNot carynge whyder her husbande flete or synge
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Entendeth for to se vpon the morneHero wne loue / whome she hath longe forborneSayth to her selfe / for she is not aloneMy husbande shall not yet touche my personeTomoro we / and therfore erly she aroseAud lefte her husbande / routynge in the noseAnd maketh suche a countenaunce as sheA houswyfe good / and houssholder sholde beAnd peraduenture the husbande is in beddeWhyles that his wyfes meters is well speddeBy her good loue / and she hath her desyreAnd he content is / with his wage and hyreThus all that day / she is so well apaydeThat neyther seruaunt nedeth she ne maydeIn euery place / so ordreth she the houseAnd skyppeth aboute / as qnyckely as a mouseShe clappeth to the doores and the wykketAnd is as mery as it were a crykketAnd somtyme it may fortune other wyseWhan that she wyll not frome her bedde a ryseBut lyke a wanton or nycet playThen wyll she playne / a lytell afore the dayAnd this good man dooth aske her what she eylethIn trouthe she sayth / I thynke my herte me feylethWithin my syde / I haue so grete a payneAnd in my bely whiche do me sore constrayneThat it is meruayle / but as Cryst me saueI deme syr that the same sykenes I haueThe whiche wonte was afore tyme me to takeAnd namely whan I ouermoche dyde wakeTorne you to me sayth he I you requyreBy god sayth she / I am as hote as fyreFor this nyght haue I had so sore a fytte
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That lytell haue I slepte / or nothynge yetThen this good man her clepeth with his armeAnd feleth well that she is very warmeHe sayth then / trouth now saye ye certaynlyBut she hath other maner maladyOf feuers / than that she wyll tell or she weFor peraduenture / this false wyle shre weThought that she was with her loue in her dremeWhiche made the swetynge frome her body stremeThen this good man / her felynge in this heteDooth couer her frome wynde / lest that the sweteSholde in warde passe / all so daynly or drynkeWhiche were a peryllous thynge as he dooth thyngeTo her sayth he / dame kepe you well and sureLye styll in bedde / whyle your swete dooth endureAnd I shall cause suche werkes to be dooneAs nedefull is / and vp he ryseth soonePerchaunce withouten fyre or candell lyghtSome what afore the day / within the nyghtAnd whan he so is vp all hastelyHe maketh a fyre for her / whiche easelyLyeth in her bedde / and laugheth by her selfeThat in the derke / he walketh lyke an elfeAn other tyme / yf this good man play woldeWith her / as I here to fore haue toldeShe well excuseth her / in luche a wyseFull ofte / as ye haue herde me late deuyseTo scape a way / euer wyll she fynde a meneFor she his dede / not prayseth worthe a beneAnd yet hath he / grete besynes y wysieAt many a tyme / her for to coll and kysseBut god wote how she is eased therforeIf she be suche one / as is sayd to fore
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Unto this man / the good wyfe wyll say thusI wolde that it myght please our lorde Ihesusye neuermore sholde doo / ne yet assaySuche thynges as ye or this haue herde me sayye sholde forbere / and how what wolde yet notDo it your selfe sayth he / nay god it wotSayth she / for yf yt ye suche thynge wolde spareB othe ye and I sholde moche the better fareIf I had knowen this or ye dyde me weddeI neuer wolde haue gone vnto mannes beddewhat saye ye dame / now speketh this good manFor what encheson dyde ye mary thanI note quod she / but whan I was a maydeSo as my fader and my moder saydeI dyde / and thought she spake suche wordes wasteyet peraduenture afore she toke a tastewhat thynge is this to say / the good man saythI founde you neuer afore this by my faythTo saythe trouthe in your entencyonBut alway fast in this opynyonI wote not by my soule she sayth my loueThis knoweth well the myghty lorde aboueNe were it not / for your pleasure aloneNow neuer wolde I do it by saynt IhoneThis man well eased is / as god it woldeAnd to hym selfe he sayth / my wyfe is coldewherof he maketh none accompte ne taleAnd peraduenture she is whyte or paleOf nature feble / and complexcyonBut he hath her / in his subieccyonAnd her he clepeth / and he kysseth soThat all his pleasure / hath he or she goAnd this good wyfe / whiche for the tyme is there
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Thynketh on other thynges and elles whereShe wolde she were / and god wote heuelyIs she content / but well and womanlyShe kepeth her kyll / and dooth hym as rioche goodAs cast a stone agaynst a pyece of woodFor helpe hym selfe / can he not ne socoureAnd she nothynge is gladde of his laboureHow be it other dyde ryght well aforeAnd she asyde turneth her chere therforeA lytell / for that tyme / so stant the casFor this is not / the good wyne ypocraswhiche she afore at other tymes hadThis dooth her sore anoye / for it is badMy loue she sayth / ye make me all a foleBetter it were for you vpon a stoleTo sytte / and of suche besynes you restThis good man whiche all taketh for the bestKepeth hym as well / and derely as he mayThat he of longe tyme wyll by no wayDo her dyspleasure / trespace or offenceThe payne he dooth endure with pacyenceHe doubteth lore the good wyfe to dyspleaseAnd so he resteth / som what for his easeFor he beleueth well / that of the gameNothynge she wolde / in ony wyse attameSo putteth he hym selfe in suche dotageThat he supposeth well it were domageTo her complexyon she is so loweAnd symple eke suche wordes for to knoweBycause percase / that lately of her heweShe is dyscoloured in a maner newewherfore the mater better he beleuethAnd it may fortune after thus it preueth
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That this good wyfe a goune or other thyngeOf her husbande wolde haue to her lykyngeShe knoweth well by his condycyonwhan tyme is best to make a mocyonAduysynge in her mynde hym to begyleTo haue all her desyre / and on this wyleRemembreth she / that whan they and no moIn chambre be / and it dooth fortune soThat they in pleasures and delytes beAnd in her mynde / she dooth perceyue and seThat he with some thynge wolde haue to doThen wyll she put her good wyll there vntoAnd to make hym suche dalyaunce and chereThat it is meruaylous to tell or hereFor why / a woman lerned in that arteA thousande thynges newe vpon her parteCan do / to make good chere and dalyaunceTo whome she lust / suche is the guyse of fcaunceSo in this dede the good man is well easedFor he is not accustomed to be pleasedwith so good maner chere / and contenaunceShe clepeth hym with all the cyrcumstaunceAnd on the vysage / kysseth she hym oftewhere as she lyketh / with her lyppes softeThen this good man in this maner dooth sayI deme ye wyll aske some thynge by my fayOf me / and she sayth nay my trende as nowNothynge but make good chere I craue of yowFor yf it pleased god / I wolde deuyseTo haue none other Ioye ne paradyseThan euermore bytwene your armes twayneTo be / wherby exyled were my payneTruely my loue / and also god me saue
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None other blysse wolde I desyre to haueFor my mouthe touched not ne neuer shallNo mannes mouthe / but yours in specyallSauynge your cosyns and myn / well may ye wyt.And not but whan ye lyst to commaunde itSyr I beleue so gracyous and sweteThere is no man as ye / ne to me meteMy loue sayth he / yf it a squyre wereI wolde beleue you for to be your fereBy / god she sayth / whan ones I dyde you seFerre of / the same syght so rauyshed meAnd yet I dyde you but beholde a lyteThan ye had all myn herte / loue and delyteI wolde haue had none other by my choysThough it had ben the dolphyn of vyennoysI thynke almyghty god / wyll it so beThat I shall lyue with you / and you with meFor why / my fader and my moder botheDyspleased were with me / and wonder wrotheBycause to haue suche one I nolde accordeBut neuer wolde I by our blyssed lordeThough that one wolde haue stayne me wt a knyfeyet thought I euer for to be your wyfeAnd I ne knowe what thynge that this may beSauynge I thynke it is our destyneThan dooth this man his pleasure as hym lykethAnd she is yelden therwithall and pykethA countenaunce and sayth / now wote ye whatI wyll demaunde / my loue refuse not thatTo promyse me I you beseche and prayThe good man sayth / I wyll it not denayyf that it be suche thynge as I may doRyght well dysposed wyll I be therto
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My loue she sayth / the wyfe of suche a manA furred goune with myneuers had onThis other daye / and yf that I durst craueI wolde praye you / that suche one I may haueSyr by my soule / for pryde or for enuyI saye it not / ne for to be IolyBut for by cause syr / that I thynke ye beAs able as her husbande to kepe meAnd of more sustaunce / yf I sholde not lyeTo maynteyne me / bothe well and honestlyeAnd she is not to make comparysonThat knowe ye well / as vnto my personNe syr to haue honoure / praye or laudeI saye it not for gyle / deceyte / ne fraudeBut for this woman hath so grete a prydeI wolde be gladds that she layde it asydeAnd for none other thynge so haue I blysThan this good man / whiche perauenture isA grete nygarde / thynketh in his ententeThat she of gounes hath suffycyenteAnd so a whyle he resteth in a thoughtAnd sayth my loue yf that it be well soughtHaue ye not gounes ynowe you to suffyseOf dyuers sortes furred in goodly wyseyes syr she sayth / for yf I but a gouneHad and no mo / though it were a russet brouneI wolde not recke / and yet it were grete shameThan sayth this man / now care ye not good dameNow lete them speke / & talke ynough with soroweFor we of them / nothynge do begge ne boroweBy god ye saye the trout he / but wyll ye hereI am not lyke vnto a chamberereOf theyrs / and not so well cladde ne besene
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As is my syster / ne as other beneAnd yet of yeres / more olde I am than shewhiche is a foule / and an euyll thynge to seThen peraduenture / wyll this man consentThat shortely she shall haue all her ententAnd what she wyll desyre in suche a ragewhiche vnto hym / is nothynge but domageFor whan that her demaunde / and her requestShe hath / for to be fresshe than is she prestTo go where feestes / and these daunces bewherof no maner prouffyte geteth hePeraduenture she shall her dresse and payntAnd haue so lytell vertue and restrayntThat she in suche vnthryfty wyfe shall preueAnd neuer man suppose wolde ne beleueAnd yf this gowne her please not / wy•••• ye knoweShe hath an other loue / ye may well trowewhiche peradtenture hath no ryches greteAnd is a galaunt fresshe / and can not geteMore than to holde / and maytene his degreAnd therfore soone / aduyse herselfe dooth sheUpon an other galaunt stoute and gayThe whiche a dyamounde this other daywhan that she was / at suche a maner festeUnto her wolde haue gyuen as a gesteAnd sent vnto her / by her chambererewell twenty scutes / in his best manereOr thyrty / but so soone she ne them tokeHow be it / she gaue a goodly lokeAll though she gretely / dyde refuse as thanwherby suche comforte / toke this gentylmanThat he spake to her chamberere agaynewhome he met goynge / to warde a fountayne
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Or elles where / and to her thus he saydeO Iane my veray loue / come hyder maydeI haue to speke some thynges with you nowwell syr sayth she / whan that it pleaseth youGood Iane he sayth / ye knowe ryght well the loueThat I vnto your maystresse haue / aboueAll other creatures / now I you prayTell me yf ye haue herde her of me sayOny wordes / syr by my fayth sayth sheNothynge certayne / but good and honesteAnd she wolde you none euyll / hurte ne harmewith that he taketh her softely by the armeSaynge good Iane my loue remembre meThat I to her may recommaunded beAnd in good faythe here a goune I you gyuewith all my herte / and seruyce whyle I lyueNow certes sayth the chamberere agayneThat redy is to take the goune and faynewhiche he to her presenteth as I saySyr I wyll not receyue it by no wayBy god sayth he fayre Iane / but yet ye shallIt is god wote / a symple gyfte at allAnd then he sayth vnto the chamberereI pray you that to morowe I may hereSome newes of you / and thus god be your guydeFare well syth ye / no lenger may abydeThan to her maystres streyght she gooth / and saythFolkes haue I founde / in good poynt by my faythwhat be they sayth her maystresse / tell me nowThe same it is / the whiche ryght well ye knowAnd he as yet / is in good cas and plyteFor he is taken / with the feuers whyteIn suche a wyse / that what is best to do
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He knoweth not / loue dooth constrayne hym soThe wyfe sayth than / a goodly man he isAnd gracyous / ye say full sothe y wysThe chamberere than sayth for in my dayesSuche one I neuer knewe at all assayesHe is moost fayre full ryche / and well y shapeMoost true of loue withouten deceyte or IapeAnd he can do ynough / his loue to pleaseA lady myght / with hym be well at easeO Iane she sayth / by god I can not haueNo suche thynges of myn husbande as I craueAnd yet yf he me hate / he playeth the foleFor we shall brynge hym / in to an other scoleBy god my Iane / I haue so loued longeThis gentylman / though I haue kepte my tongeThat to none other / coude I gyue myn herteSo am I take / that I can not asterteAnd this grete foly is / by god aboueFor ony woman thus to sette her loueOn ony man / that in this worlde is hereAnd I shall tell you why / Iane wyll ye hereFor whan these men / on women lordes beAll sodoynly in moost necessyteCauseles theo wyll forsake them and betrayeAnd therof make / a tryfle or playeThen cometh this galaunt or that other parteAnd to the chamberere he speketh a parteSaynge in this maner / with handes vpTogyder Ioyned / close as ony cupMy fayre loue Iane / ryghthumbly I you prayTharye wyll do / and helpe all that ye maySo that my werke ye well achyeue and spedeAnd I shall neuer fayle you at your nede
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So ye my maystresse / shall be euermoThen answereth she / and sayth yf I myght soSyr for your loue / I wolde speke what I myghtBut neuer medled I by day ne nyghtOf thynges suche / alas my loue sayth heWhat shall I do / for goddes loue counceyle meBy god she sayth / best is for you to spekeyour selfe / and vnto her your stomacke brekeAll well to poynte / the mater comen isFor of her husbande / hath she late or thisA goune desyred / onely but of clotheWhiche he denayed her / and she is wrotheI counceyle you / tomorowe that ye beTymely at chyrche / where as ye may he••seAnd whan it happeth you / with her to meteSo as it lyketh you / ye may her greteThere may ye shewe / your mater and ententAnd suche as ye wyll / gyue to her presentAll be it so / that she it wyll not takeyet more she wyll you prayse I vndertakeyour largesse and your bounte shall the leAlas my loue / me leuer were that sheTake it that I wyll gyue her / than refuseNow syr sayth Iane / she wyll make her excuseBut I shall say you / what thynge ye shall doAfter that ye / haue offred her vntoThat thynge the whiche / ye wolde her gyue indedeAnd she refuse it / than your cause to speddeDelyuer it to me / and at the lestTo cause hex take it / I shall do my bestFor Ianone / can knowe her mynde and feleNow truely gentyll Iane / ye say ryght weleThen gooth the chamberere / in Crystes name
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And whan she cometh home / she sayth madameA longe tyme it is / yf it you pleaseOr that some folke be brought to hertes easeAnd who is that good Ia••e / tell me anoney wys medame / ye knowe the same monWhat do away / I pray you tell me howIt is fayre Iane / what tydynge with you nowCertes madame / he wyll not fayle tomoroweIn chyrche to speke with you / and all his soroweUnto you wyll he shewe / so as he canye may be sure / he is a gentylmanBut well and wysely / gouerne you alwayAnd make it straunge / so as ye goodly mayNot ouer moche of straungenes ne dysdayneUse may ye not / but so betwene twayneDemeane yon womanly / in hope that graceTherof shall growe within a lytell spaceUpon the morowe this wyfe gooth to kyrkeAs whan a thynge shall be / nedes must it wyrkeSo dooth this galaunt / whiche thre houres & moreIn good deuocyon god wote aforePasseth the tyme / and draweth to a placeWhere he the holy water / in her faceMay cast / and for to kepe all thynge frome shameHe vnto other women dooth the sameThe whiche with her / be present than and thereAnd they thanken hym in theyr best manerBut this poore man / wolde do them more seruyceIf he so myght / and dooth hym well aduyseThat this good wyfe / styll testeth in her seteLyuynge in hope / some grace of her to geteAnd sayth his bedes demeanynge hym with allAs swetely as an ymage in a wall
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And god wote / she is dressed proprelyAfter her power / whiche he well dooth espyBeholdynge how she kneleth in her peweSo well apparayled / with so fresshe a heweAnd vnto her / anone he draweth nereWhere at theyr leyser / they do speke in fereBut nothynge wyll she say / but herkeneth styllUnto the tyme / that he hath spoken his wyllNe nothynge of hym / then wyll she receyueBut so she answereth hym / that he perceyueMay well / that she hym loueth peramoureAnd that she dredeth not / but dyshonoureWherof he is well eased / and agoFrome her / and frome the chamberere alsoAnd so he walketh forthe his stacyonThen entren they in to collacyon!That is to wete / the maystresse and her maydeRemembrynge well / suche wordes as were saydAnd shortely / so conclude vpon theyr dedeHow that theyr werke / they may perfourme & spedeAnd then the chamberere sayth secretelyMadame I knowe well / he hath grete enuyTo speke to me but I wyll to hym sayThat ye nothynge for hym / by ony wayWyll do / and therfore wrothe I wyll me makeFor pure pyte / the whiche I on hym takeAnd I shall to hym say / our syre is outSo he at nyght may come withouten douteInto your chambre secretely I troweI shall hym let / as though ye dyde not knoweAnd I shall shewe as I were wrothe / wherforeHe shall you pray / well better and the moreAnd syth he afterwarde / shall lenger tary
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The same thynge I wyll do brynge and caryWhiche he wolde gyue you / for I knowe that heTomorowe wyll delyuer it to meAnd I to hym shall say / so god me saueThat ye it neyther / wyll receyue ne haueAnd whan it happeth shall / that after sooneThe proces and the actes be well dooneWherfore the goune / he gyueth you in rewardeThe whiche afore he put in to my wardeThen ye therfore / shall chyde me fast and blameAfore hym / saynge / damoysell fye for shameWherfore dyde ye / this thynge with you retayneWhy wolde not ye delyuer it agayneBut how someuer it come to passe / knowe yeThat I shall put all thynge in certaynteFor some there be that haue ryght many a wyleWherby innumerable they begyleOf women good / and neuer can be styllNow Iane / frome this daye forwarde do your wyllForthe gooth this galaunt than / and so dooth meteThe chamberere / somdele without the streteAnd asketh her / what newes the hath broughtOf her maystresse / by god sayth she ryght noughtI haue her founde / so daungerous and straungeThat sore I drede shame wyll make her to chaungeBut for because I medled haue so ferreThynkynge no tyme is / lenger to deferreThis mater / I shall say you what is bestThat ye may do / to brynge your mynde in restThyder shall ye go this nyght to werke and spedeyour maters / and yet haue I so grete dredeThat she wyll to her husande me accuseOr to her frendes / but I thynke and muse
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That yf she wyll receyue / suche thynges as yeTo her wolde gyue / your dede soone spedde shall beAnd yet by god / I shall proue and assayTo cause her take it shortely yf I mayFor well it is / at poynt to brynge abouteThe mater / for her husbande ryden outIs now / and hath denyed her vtterlyA goune / wherof she hath so grete enuyThat it is meruayle / and this galaunt thoTwenty scutes / or thyrty / elles moDelyuereth vnto her / and Iane sayth thanBy god ye be an honourable manBut well ye se / how I aduyse meAnd yet I drede that troubled shall I beFor neuer dyde I thus / for man or nowAs I for you haue done / I make auoweAnd wyll ye knowe / how grete daungere that IHaue put me in / and I shall tell you whyFor yf so be / that knowen were one wordeThat ony thynge I sholde do by our lordeHerin / I sholde haue euer suche a blameThat neuer after / myght I loke for shameBut for bycause I truste you perfytelyI shall me put / in this grete IeoperdyKnowynge that she / you loueth well at allAnd that our syre is out / wherfore ye shallThis same nyght / come fayre and honestlyUnto her chambre / and I secretelyWyll let you in / for neyther harre ne lockeShall cause you eyther / for to call or knockeAnd thus at .xii. houres within the nyghtye must walke in the derke withouten lyghtFor that tyme sadly / dooth she slepe alway
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And there is but a lytell chylde in sayTo her in bedde than shall ye go and lyeFor I can se / none other remedyAnd peraduenture your dede shall be goodNow whan a man / all naked is by the rodeIn bedde with her / that naked is and bareA full grete thynge it is and she vnwareAnd whan she seeth none other choys ne redeAs styll she lyeth then / as she were dedeSo sore she dredeth shame and vylanyThat in the derke she may not se to cryeFor though she answere straungely on the dayAt suche a sodayne countre she ne mayO Iane my loue / this gentyll galaunt saythI neuer shall haue peny by my faythBut ye therof that one halfe and well moreShall haue alway / so wele ye do therforeWhan nyght shall come the galaunt gothe a paceAs Iane hym hath / aduysed to the pleaceAnd she vnto her maystresse secretelyHath shewed all the processe manerlyAnd whan this galaunt comen is and crepteInto the bedde / she letteth as she slepteThis galaunt there / her shortely doth embrasThen starteth she and sayth / who is there alasMy loue sayth he / no more for it is IA by the sacrament of god I cryeShe sayth it shall not come to passe yet soAnd thynketh for to call / on Iane whiche thoNo worde to her agayne answerde or saydHa now I se it wele / I am betrayedMyn auctor sayth / the fyght togyder botheIn dyuers wyse / and she is passynge wrothe
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And fast she panteth / bothe for fere and yreWheihe is as angrye / as the brennynge fyreAnd sore abasshed of this rekenyngeye may well knowe / it is a pyteous thyngeA woman onely whan she lacketh helpeNo more of strength is then a lytell whelpeBut yf it had not ben for drede of shameMore hyghe she wold haue cryed in goddes nameThen she dyde than but all was for the bestThat she to saue her honoure so dyde restWas neuer fythyll / shalmeulx / pype ne roteThat better dyde accorde in euery noteOf musyk / or in gemetrye then theyWhiche enterpryse / gode tyme agayne to playThus for the husbande that tyme beynge onteRyght well to poynt ye werke they brynge abouteNow hath this wyfe ye gowne that was denayedBy her good man / and she is wele apayedAnd for bycause he nolde it to her gyueIt shall cost hym full dere yf she may lyueAll be it so that he in tymes aforeWele more then it was wrothe hath payed therforeAnd this good wyfe / all thynges to excuseAnd bycause no wyght her of sholde museHer moder wyll she cause with dylygenceThis goune to gyue her in his presenceAll boubtes to auoyde that he may haueThus honestly she can her worshyp saueAnd she her moder maketh to byleueThat this clothe she hath bought as she can preueOf those lytell thynges whiche she soldeWherof her husbande yet she neuer toldeSo he therof dothe vnderstende no dele
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Or parauenture he may knowe it weleAnd so it happeth ofte with her and moAfter this goune another cometh alsoThat is to wyte / a newe thynge must be hadFor her that she / may honestly be cladAlso of gyrdels harneysed two or threOf syluer gylte / elles angry wyll she beOr other thynges / wherof her husbande thanWyll be as sore dyspleased as he canThe whiche is veray melancolyousOr lyke to Naball auarycyousAs I haue sayd afore / and he dothe doubteOr narowly he pryeth and loketh outeSo that he wele perceyue hathe some thyngeWherin he toke no pleasure nor lykyngeOr vnto hym it hathe be tolde or shewedOr her good loue / this galaunt all be shrewedBy some fast frende of his this hath he knowenFor at longe rennynge out it shall be blowenThen entreteth he in rage of IalousyAnd putteth hym in to an agonyAnone he maketh semblaunt to go outeAnd cometh at nyght / starynge all abouteFull sodaynly supposynge in his myndeOute of araye some folkes to fyndeThe whiche is not so easely to be doneThen hydeth he hym in his chambre soneAnd by auenture / some thynge dothe espyeWherfore he chydeth and she can wele replyeShe feleth that she wylye is and sageAnd that she comen is of good lygnageThis sely man remembreth hym agayneOf his frendes how they haue spoken playne
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So they in ryot and grete debateAnd sorowe and care / shall rest vpon his pateFor Ioyes shall he neuer haue in dedeFro that tyme forth / but euer gnawe and fedeOn heuynesse / and euer amonge a lyeShall cast be in the vysage pratelyHis cheuysaunce / shall lessen sodaynlyAlso his pore body shall be dryeSo shall he cesse of werkes and besynesseAnd neuer lyue in wele nor lustynesseThus closed in the lepe / abyde shall heThese paynes takynge for prosperyteFor yf that he this lepe were not withinyet neuer wolde he / tary rest ne blynneUnto the tyme that he therto myght crepeAnd put hym selfe in to the same more depeThus he ne wolde that otherwyse he wereRyght so this poore man / as ye may hereShall euer languysshe in captyuyteAnd depe within the lepe shall barred beSo wretchely his dayes shall he endeFro suche auenture god vs all defende
¶Here endeth the fyfth Ioye of maryage.
¶Here begynneth the syxte Ioye of maryage.
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[illustration]
THe syxte Ioye of maryage it is soThat he whiche was wedded longe agoEndured hath the trauayles / and the payneAs I afore haue sayd / all or certayneOf them / and hath a wyfe especyallDyuers of her condycyons at allA veray subtyll falfe and wyle shreweShe is / as I here after shall you sheweCautelous wylfull / and eke malycyousFro warde / wanton / nyse and dysdaynousAnd her husbande a good man is and playneThe whiche her loueth well / and she agayneLoueth hym I trowe / wherfore alway he
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So as he may by possybylyteDothe vnto her / all pleasures that he canFor she of body is a good womanHow be it holly her entencyonIs sette so fast and her oppynyonThat euer by some crafte or subtyllyteFayle wyll she not to haue the soueraynteAnd or her husbande werkes wyll she knowewheder he of his degree be hyghe or loweSo wyll she medle ofte answere and spekeyf myster be / and many maters brekeSuche is of her the dysposycyonAnd after nature the condycyonOf all wyues / what husbandes so they haueOr at leest / the maystrye wyll they craueFor tho this wyfe be wele & wante ryʒt noughtyet euer wyll she set her mynde and thoughtTo brynge her husbande / into wo and careAnd make hym thynke and muse / euyll fareAnd otherwhyles it may fortune soThat he and she in chambre and no moBe all the nyght and som what of the dayeIn theyr delytes Ioye dysporte and playeAnd they togyder kysse and make good cheBut he aryseth fyrst that theyr dynereMay redy be / and also he must thynkeDo other thynges mo then mete and drynkeThe hous aboute and whan tyme is to dyneHe calleth her but she wyll not enclyneUnto his speche but sendeth downe anoneHer lytell chylde or of her seruauntes onewhiche vnto hym then shall these wordes sayeSyr in good fayth she wyll not dyne to daye
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wele sayth the good man / go agayne in hastAnd byd her come anone to this repastThen gothe the seruaunt or the chylde and saythMy mayster byddeth you come now by my faythTo dyner sone for he wyll nothynge eateTyll ye be come and set with hym at meteGo say to hym I wyll not dyne sayth sheUpon whiche answere streyght to her gothe heAnd sayth to her what ayleth you my dereShe speketh not / wherfore he draweth nereAnd sayth what chere my loue and is dysmaydeHow be it he hath sene suche pagentes playdeAfore that tyme / but for request ne wordeThat can be sayd she nyll go to the bordeBut playe ryght so / and perchaunce in no wysewyll dyne that day for thynge he can deuyseAnother tyme / vnder her arme a sydeHe ledeth her as thoughe she were a brydeAnd they to dyner go / but colde is allThe vytaylles on the table grete and smallFor so longe hath she saused them to tarye▪Thus often tymes wyll she do contrayreTo reason / and suche countenaunce and cherewith maners wyll she make at her dyner••That no thynge wyll she ete / ne bytteFor whiche so dull and mate he is of wytteAnd lyke a mased beest for wele the moreHe loueth her / and hath her dere therforeFor suche melancolyes she dothe hym gyueIn thought and heuynesse to cause hym lyuewherin ryght wele she dothe and cunnynglySyth he wyll suffre it so curteyslyFor why a woman for to gete the grace
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Of hym whome she hath bounden in her laceHath not to do / syth that he loueth her weleWith herte / body / mynde and euery deleAnd dooth her all the pleasures that he mayHer nedeth not / with suche one for to playBut she must set her thought holy to geteThe loue of hym / the whiche her dooth for yeteAnd by her setteth / none accompte ne taleShe sholde assay to make suche one aualeUnto her hande by chere and countenaunceBy pleasaunt speche / with all the cyrcumstaunceA fayre dede / she thynketh to haue wroughtWhan she her husbande / in to care hath broughtIt happeth other whyle this man gooth outHer werkes / and his besynes aboutAnd whan he home warde dooth retorne agayneWith hym he bryngeth of his frendes twayneIn to his hous / by cause he hath to doWith them / or elles ryght well it may be soThat they of hym haue perfyte cognysaunceOr elles they be of his acquayntaunceWhan he without is / as is sayd beforeHis yoman or his page / he sendeth aforeUnto his wyfe / and prayeth her hertelyFor to make redy / well and honestlyThe houses all about / and other thyngeFor suche frendes as he wolde with hym bryngeBycause to them / he gretely is beholdeAlso he prayeth her hastely that she woldeOrdayne vytayles to make them well at easeFor what he can / he wyll do them to pleaseAnd he with them percase hath for to doNow gooth this messenger his wyfe vnto
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And salueth her and sayth / madame truelyMy mayster cometh / and in his companyTwo of his frendes / men of good estateFor to be lodged here this nyght algateWherfore he prayeth you ryght specyallyTo se the souper dyght be / and redyAnd she dooth answere saynge / what haue IAnd do with / feestes / or of his companyWhy cometh he not hymselfe to se it dyghtI wote not sayeth the seruaunte by thys lyghtBut thus to say / he hath commaunded meThon arte accursed knaue by god / sayth sheThis fela we than holdeth his peas anoneAnd she in to a chambre is a goneSuche one she is / whiche dooth none otherwyseAnd wors is / she hath a praty guyseFor all the seruauntes here and there aboutBothe one and other / shortely she / sendeth outAnd ouer this / yf chamberere there beOr of her doughters / one / or two / or threThe whiche at home abyde / be taught how theyUnto the good man of the house shall sayWhan he cometh home / and now he comen isAnd calleth vpon a doughter fyrst of hisOr elles a chamberere / and sayth is allThynges redy made / the whiche we nede shallIn fayth she sayth / my maystresse is full sekeYour seruauntes and your meyny be to sekeAnd certaynly as yet / nothynge is doneWherwith the good man waxeth angry sooneHow be it / bothe his frendes forth withallHe bryngeth them curteysly in to the hallOr in to other places elles wh••re
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As they be of estate / and fyndeth thereNothynges redy for to make them gladdeIt is no nede to alke / yf he be saddeFor perauenture his frendes whiche he broughtPerceyue ryght wele enpryntynge in theyr thoughtThat where he sente his seruaunt or his pageAfore vnto his wyfe on his massageThey myght wele thynke that his commaundementWas not so sure as acte of parlaymentThis good man then dothe call his folkes on hyeBut none of them he fynde can nor espyeExcepte a pore knaue or elles a maydeThat nought can do / and then he in a braydeGothe to his wyues chambre sodaynlyAnd her to speketh hygh and hastelyWherfore haue ye not done I you demaundeAs by my messagere I dyde comaundeA syr she sayth so many thynges yeCommaunde / that by the holy trynyteOne shall not vnderstande ne knowe wele howWhat for to do / o saynt Mary nowThen sayth this man / clawynge fast his hedeNow of this worlde / the moost vngodely dedeAnd euyll haue ye done and vncurteyslySe here the folkes / that I moost specyallyAm bounde vnto / how may I do thertoSayth she / what wolde ye syr that I sholde doNow with your cosyns moche to do haue weIt she weth wele an vnwyse man be yeDo as ye wyll after your guyse for ICare not therof a rysshe / nor yet a flyFayre dame sayth he I you demaunde wherforeYe haue sente out / your seruauntes here tofore
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Knewe I quod she / that ye suche besynesseHad daken on hande / how be it neuerthelesseShe sente them for the / in dyspyte wyttynglyOf this good man / afore all by and byThen he the whiche wyll suffre and obeyeUnto her faute / dothe no mo wordes sayeBut fro her gothe with care and heuy chereFor parauenture suche his gestes wereThat he had leuer / an hondreth scutes and moreHaue spente but she / nothynge dothe care therforeShe hath hym sene and knoweth he wyll not byteAnd that afore he was not wonte to smyteShortly to speke he torneth hym abouteAnd of his folkes gadreth in a routeSuche as he fyndeth and dothe the best he canTo welles of werke he demaundeth thanFayre / fyne / whyte and other naperye wareOf dyapre and byddeth that they none spareAnd table clothes or they to souper goBut of the good wyfe / he is answerde soTo waylles she sayth ryght good & fyne there beAnd for moche better men / in theyr degreThen be these folkes / and of as good a placeThey gete none other as euer haue I graceThese other clothes in vessels ben to stepeAs wasshynge tubbes / layed in the water depeHow be it for the to waylles I say not thisFor erly haue I lost the kayes y wysOf the dores / se how the chamberereDothe seke them besyly bothe here and thereAnd of the bedde she torneth to and froThe strawe / also the good wyfe thus sayth thoI wote not what I haue done of late so bad
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My wytte and eke my heed is made so maddeWith besynes / and mased is my brayneThat where for to renne / I ne wote certayneTruely sayth he / I am begyled wele▪The coffres shall I breke now euery deleA fayre thynge do ye than / the good wyfe saythAnd I shall tary with you by my faythI wolde ye had them all in pyeces brokenSo that they neuer sholde be shytte ne lokenSuche thynge somtyme a man may do in hasteThat after warde he shall repent the wasteThan how to do / he knoweth not what is bestBut for all this / he is in peas and restSupposynge that she she weth hym the troutheAnd forth with all / without ony sloutheUnto the table go they for to suppeOf fresshe pypes / then to fyll the cuppeGrete nede it were for wyne wherof they spendeGooth lowe / and draweth fast vnto an endeAnd it as now / is neyther good ne ableWell for to serue these gentylmen at tableAnd though that he byd one for to goHe geteth none / bycause she wyll not soAnd as for these fruyte or other thyngeAt his commaundement / or elles byddyngeNone can be had / for yf he wyll them haueUnto his neyghboure he must sende his knaueAfore the table his page and theyrs standeAnd them amonge they compte and vnderstandeSeynge the wyues cursed loke and chereThey say bycause our maysters comen ben hereThe wyfe is wrothe but after souper thenTyme dooth approche yt these good gentylmen
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Shall go to bedde / and this man dothe entreteHis wyfe for shetes whyte / but he can geteNone good ne fyne / bycause erly that dayAfore the good wyfe lost hath euery kayHedshetes wolde he haue / and pylowes whyteAnd she them kepeth frome his ghestes quyteIn comen shetes so all that nyght they lyBut erly in the mornynge hastelyThese frendes aryse / and hom warde them auaunceWhiche haue wele knowen the wyues countenaūceTheyr pages by the waye haue comynyngeWherof the mannes page made rekenyngeTo them afore and laughen by the wayNothynge content the whiche togyder sayThey wyll not theder come agayne of longeSuche comenynge these pages haue amongeBetter had ben this good man to haue lostMoche of his good then to haue ben theyr hostAnd so to brynge them theder to his shameWherof the wyfe all holly was to blameThe same moro we / I meruayle moche sayth heUnto his wyfe / o benedycyteOf your maners / for why I knowe not howI shall demeane or gouerne me with yowAne maria / with me is moche to doShe sayth. I nourysshe chekyns duckes pygges alsoAnd euermore I laboure and I spynneAnd do all that I may some thynge to wynneyet can I not one houre haue on the dayOfrest ne ease / and ye trauayle alwayAboute nothynge / but euer wast and spendeAnd of our goodes destroye and make an endeUpon suche men with whiche I nothynge haue
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To do / thus ye wyll neyther gete ne saueWith them sayth he / yes these good men be theyThat bothe vs helpe / anoye or hyndre mayThen sadly he remembreth in his myndeHow that his wyfe so gentyll is and kyndeThat whan a galaunt cometh he dothe thynkeAnone she wyll cause hym to ete and drynkeAnd vpon hym no good thynge shall be sparedWherfore to her hath sayd and declaredThat he wyll not this galaunt come more thereAnd ther vppon he byddeth her forbereTo drawe hym to her hous / for he nothyngeThere hath to do / and she sayth I shall bryngeHym whan me Iust and cause him to comeynneWher wt gret noyse bytwene them doth begȳneThe good man angrye then these wordes saythWherin he sheweth wele the fole he playethNow by the sacrament of god yf IAfter this tyme can fynde or elles espyeHe wt you speke / I shall make you more wrotheThen euer ye were / all be you leue or lotheNow by my fayth she sayth nothynge I reckeAll thoughe he were hye hanged by the neckeBut now I se ryght wele / it is full sotheA good woman the whiche no synnes dotheShall haue asmoche reproue / & more dyffaineThen she ye whiche dothe wyckednes attayneShe sayth yf that I suche a woman wereWhiche dyde her gouerne euyll in manereI had no nede then for to be dysmaydeFor moche better she had done she saydeThen I now do / and thus he and the wyueTogyder make a noyse / and so they stryue
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This in auenture / by the malyce greteOf hym or her / in suche a fume and heteThey fall / that they wyll not togyder lyOf longe tymes in this melancolyAnd that it is / that she desyreth soresFor this squyer / of whome he spake aforeShall perauenture come within the nyghtIn at the backe dore out of his syghtOr elles clyme in at a wyndowe hyeAnd to the wyues bed go secretelyNot for to synne / ne do her hurte ne harmeBut in her good mannes stede to kepe her warmeFor other bodye she was good and treweAs it is sayd afore / or elles of neweMyn auctor baryeth somwhat in his taleAnd taketh a knkko for the nyghtyngaleAfter all this the thynge is well appeasedAnd for bycause the good wyfe shall be pleasedThis good man dothe begynne her for to flatreAnd she can suffre hym to speke and clatreFor euer wolde a woman flatred beAnd lyghtly / troweth it in certaynteyf it in praysynge be of her godenesseOf beaute bounte / or of / gentylnesseThus passeth he the tyme tyll at the lasteHis wyfe he fyndeth somtyme spekynge fasteUnto this forsayd squyre in his placeOr in the chyrche / or elles where as she wasAt suche a feest and in to IalousyeHe entreth in his mynde / more feruentlyeThen euer a dayes afore he dydeBy meane wherof so now it is betydeOf worldly Ioye he dothe hymselfe defayte
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And entreth in to the thought and awayteHe lyeth and requereth subtyllyHer to espye or take with some folyWherin he playeth the very fole alwayeBycause the noble herte of man ne mayeNe ought of womens werkes to enquereFor yfhe sholde / the faute knowe and hereOnes of his wyfe / he myght fall in suche plyteThat medecyne neuer sholde hym hele ne quyteAnd then his shame / he sercheth in his myndeEnquerynge fast and he the same doth fyndeGood reason is that he endure therbyThe shame whiche he afore sought besylyAs in this case I counte hym cast awayAnd lost / for on his body and goodes alwayGrete peryll renneth & aege cometh hym vponSo is he folysshe lyke a beestly manIn euery thynge by reason of the playAnd he within the lepe I dare well sayYclosed is / in sorowe and heuynesseWhiche he doth take / for Ioye and gladnesseSeynge that he / ne wolde but it were soThus shall he dwell in paynes euermoAnd so shall ende his dayes wretchydlySyth he wyll fynde / none other remedy
¶Here endeth the .vi. Ioye of maryage.
¶Here begynneth the .vii. Ioye of maryage
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THe .vii. Ioye of maryage to knoweIs as I fynde it wryten on the roweWhan that somtyme / the man whiche maryed isHathe founde a wyfe / as I haue sayd or thisWhiche is a felowe good / at euery seasonAnd neuer wyll refuse nor forsake reasonWhan it is profered her / but knowe ye mayThoughe she be good / as ye haue herde me sayAnd of her body chast or other wyseYet euer hathe she suche maner guyseThe whiche a rule is named generallIn maryage and vsed ouer allFor euery wyfe byleueth veraylyAnd holdeth this oppynyon sted fastlyThat her husbande the weykest creatureAnd moost wretche is & leest werke may endure.As in regarde / vnto the secrete crafteOf all other whiche in the worlde be lafteAnd so it happeth ofte / and hathe benseneThat whan a yonge lusty man and greneDothe marye hym vnto a good true maydeAnd they theyr pleasures take and be apaydeIn suche a wyse that maruayle is to hereAnd take all that he may within a yereOf theyr dysporte / or elles in two or threOr mo in dyuers wyse so may it beWherby theyr youthe is greatly waxen coldeBut yet the good wyfe by an hundreth foldeHer wasteth not so moche / as dothe the manIn no maner for she so wysely canHer body kepe / fro besynesse and payneWith laboure wyll she not herselfe constrayneNor yet with pensyfnesse to saye the sothe
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With care ne sorowe / so as the good man dotheAnd though they dyde but play / and make solaceYet wolde she not waste in so shorte a spaceAs her good man dothe in this secrete playsWher with then he / she bettre may awayeBut trouthe it is / whan women chyldrebereAnd they be grete / lyuynge in drede and fereWhan they drawe nere theyr tyme of chyldes byrtheThey suffrs peynes grete withouten myrtheMyn auctor sayth that it is to accounteTo mannes peyne / the whiche all dothe surmounteHe sayth the husbande peynes be wele moreThe whiche must thynke / and care all thynges foreAboute his housholde / as he hathe to doHe suffreth anger trouble peyne and woBut of the sorowe / and the anguysshe greteOf chyldes byrthe / all dothe he clene forgeteHow be it many wordes dooth he spekeWhiche in his brest he myght well shyt and stekeFor I wyll not those wordes put in rymeBut holde my tongue / and speke whan it is tymeHe sayth these husbandes bely be to geteBut wyues do no good / but drynke and eteAnd after this it falleth saunce fayleThat for suche thoughtes / labours and trauayleThe husbande gretely wasted is and spentWherfore his mynde he setteth and ententSome elles where / applyenge not the gameMore then of custome / for to please our dameAnd also yfhe wolde the fayte assayFor lacke of power / perchaunce he ne mayPerfourme his appetyte / desyre and wyllWherfore as in that cace / he holdeth hym styll
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But this good wyfe / yet leueth not the crafteHer luste / ne courage be not her byrafteAs hotte she is as euer she was beforeAnd so it is that he may do no moreThenne for be cause / her lyueree / and her feeOf her delytes dayly mynysshed beWhiche she was wont to haue of her good monIn noyse ryot bothe they falle anoneLyke as her leuere / mynyssheth lyte and lyteThey so begynne to gren as they wolde byteAnd though this lyuere / wyll her not suffyceYet euyll dothe she not / for she is wyseBut she ne leueth of deme / that heIn power is / moche wors thenne other beAnd she the more belueth it by reasonBecause afore she neuer in her seasonNon other man / but hym onely assayedOf whome she neyther was content ne payedAnd he to her was in suffycyenteWithout her lyuere ofte she came and wenteAnd yet by reason / and the ordynaunceOf holy chirche / it is a suffysaunceOne man vnto one woman to be knytBut other whyle / the wyfe wyll Ieoparde itFor to assaye of other / two or threYf they so symple as her husbande beAnd thenne she whiche / ye crafte so dare assayeParauenture beleueth it alwayeMore certaynly thenne she hathe done aforeAnd suche a fela we taketh she therforeThat of the crafte / ye whiche she dothe begynneBut yf it be for drede / she may not blynneOr elles / with plente / she be satysfyed
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She wyll not be content / ne pacyfyedFor whan this felawe cometh happylyHe is enfamyned wherfore meruaylouslyDothe he / and she her husbande thynketh onReputynge hym / a veray semple monAnd of ryght lytell power she byleuethThe better for so surely she it preuethFor suche thynges as somtyme cometh by steltheIs better for a sykely wyues heltheThen suche as she at home hathe but a lyteHauynge therto no lust nor appetyteAnd thus she is in fast byleue and sureExperyence alwaye dothe her assureAnd sometyme so fortuneth it that sheAnother gossyp / whiche hathe maryed beAnd knoweth reason / whan it is to her shewedGood in her maners beynge and wele thewedThe whiche byleueth eke that her husbandeAs dothe that other / for she can vnderstandeAnd parauenture she hathe taken assayeOf other mo as ye haue herde me sayeWherof wele gretter is the werke and dedeThen of the good man hauynge lytell medeWhiche gyueth not hym selfe to so grete payneFor why he knoweth wele / that for certayneNyghe hym alwaye good plente shall he fyndeBut knoweye wele / that many meu by kyndeUse contrary to this that women doFor surely they byleuen euermoWhat maner women so they haue and weddeThey be moost wyse / and best for them in beddeOf all other / but this rule other whyleDo fayle / and that is by deceyte and gyie
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Amonge rybauldes lyuynge in despeyreTo whome no wytte ne reason dothe repayreOfte it is sene / that maryed men wyll prayseThe maners of theyr wyues and vpreyseAnd euery verture whiche they in them fyndeThey shewe supposynge / surely in theyr myndeThat better women / be there none then theyNe lyke to them none can be founde they sayeIn goodnesse ferre all other they excedeSuche appetyte to them haue they at nedeThus dothe myn auctor speke of wedded menAnd forth withall thus he declereth thenSaynge / that gladly ofte it hathe ben seneThat whan a woman / hathe a wydowe beneThen shortely to another wyll she maryeAnd other whyles she nyll abyde ne taryeA moneth but she wyll her wedde agayneFor to assaye and proue in certayneyf that another of his power beSo symple in his werkes as was heThe whiche out of this worlde of late is pastAnd thus in wedlocke she is bounden fastWherin she kepeth neyther trouthe ne faythBut wasteth folyly myn auctor saythLoseth and gyueth moche goodes a wayeFor whiche her husbande many a wery dayeHath had in loboure / or yt they haue ben gotenAfter his degree / but all hathe she forgotenBy many maner wayes dothe she spendeAs well vpon her lemman / or her frendeAs olde baudes / and on her confessourA frere prechour / or elles a lymatourWhiche yerely hathe of her alpensyon
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For she of hym hathe absolucyonSuche folkes haue grete power of the popeFor to absoyle / enserche / and for to gropeThe conscyence of wydowes and of wyuesAnd them to teche how they shall lede theyr ly∣uesThis man her husbande on yt other sydeAs warely / as he can dothe hym gydeWithouten grete expence or elles costeAnd casteth accompte / what he hath wonne or losteOf marchaundyses / after suche degreeAs he is of / and shortly fyndeth heThat in his godes he gothe faste abakkeAnd knoweth well ynough there is grete lakkeThenne he ta syghe / and sorowe dothe begynneAnd whan that he / his compter is withynneUnto his wyfe / the whiche he loueth moreThenne that he dothe hym selfe he speketh therforeAnd thus he sayth myn owne loue veraymentI knowe not how our goodes be waste or spentOr where they be become I can not telleGolde or syluer wherwith / we bye and selleWyne corne / and other marchaundyseAnd yet alwaye I take hede and aduyseThe beest wyse that I can loke or espyeAnd haue to euery thynge / as good an eyeAs is possyble vnto me to haueOure goodes for to gouerne rule and saueSo that one gowne / that good is for my corceI dare not haue / A syr she sayth no forceAnd whan that he is / in a secrete placeUnto his wyfe he speketh / this percaseTruely / but late it hathe be shewed to meSome wordes whiche dyspleasaunt to me be
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By god my loue ryght so it dooth appereFor of longe tyme ye haue made euyll chereShe sayth / I haue ben sore affrayed and draddeThat ye some hurte or heuynesse haue haddeOr that some of your frendes had ben pastTo god / or had ben kepte in pryson fastWith englysshe men / ytake at some affrayNay nothynge so / but moche wors than ye do sayIt is / Aue maria sayth she thanIf it please you / tell me good gentylmanWhat thynge it is / fayne wolde I that I kneweCertes sayth he / my faythfull frende and trueHath shewed me / that suche one maynteneth yowAnd other thynges he hath sayd ynowThen she begynneth for to crosse and blisAnd many meruayles maketh she of thisDemurely she begynneth for to smyleMy loue she sayth / meke no wors chere a whyleOf all my synnes / as quyte I wolde I wereAnd eke towarde almyghty god as clereAs I of hym am / and she ther withallHer handes lyfteth / and letteth them fallUpon her heed / and sayth myn owne herte dereBy this all onely wyll I not now swereBut to the deuyll gyue I all at onesUnder my handes / all be it flesshe and bonesIf euer mannes mouthe yet touched myneExcept your mouthe / your kynnesmen and cosyneAnd neuer but at your commaundementThe whiche ye knowe was but in good ententFy / fy sayth the / what maner is itI am ryght gladde that ye dome to witI doubted it had ben some other thynge
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But now I knowe from whens cometh this lesyngeAnd all these wordes vnto you shewed ofneweBut for what cause wolde god that ye kneweHe hathe it sayd to you for by my faythRyght sore abassed wolde ye be she saythFor so moche as he maketh hym your good frendeBut I ryght well am eased in my myndeFor he awaked hathe / the slepynge catteMy loue sayth he now tell me what is thatSyr care ye not therof she sayth but lyteAn other tyme I shall do you to wyteTruely sayth he I wyll knowe it anoneBy god my loue ye be an hastly monShe sayth I was ryght wrothe be cause that yeMade hym to come so ofte for to beWithin youre hous / but I forbere to sayeBe cause that ye loued hym so well alwayeTell me sayth he / certes my loue as nowShe sayth no nede it is to tell it youI praye you she it me so as it isHe sayth. And the thenne swetely dothe hym kysseAnd clyp saynge my dere loue and myn lordeHa that falle traytour whiche make wolde dyscordeByt wexte vst weyne / and do you euyll or gryfeGod gyue hym veray vengeaunce and myschyefeTell me my loue sayth he / what maner wyghtHe is that thus wolde do / and what he hyghtNow in good fayth my lorde whome I loue besteAboue all thynges that in this worlde do resteThat false traytour and that sclaunderourHathe prayed me to be his paramoureThe whiche ye trust and louen so entyerThis hathe he ben aboute more thenne two yereBut I alwayes haue hym full well refused
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With grete payne / and maners that I vsedAnd whan he came in to your hous ye thoughtIt for your your loue had ben / but it was noughtFor with his false flatterynge wordes gayHe came for no cause / but you to betrayNe neuer ceased he tyll tyme that ISay hd tat I wolde tell you it certaynlyNothynge her of to me was charge ne cureFor of my selfe alway was I so sureAnd though I suche vnthryfty maners hateyet wolde I not make noyse wrathe ne debateBet wene you thus and hym / me thought no nedeIt was / bycause I kepte hym from the dedeAlas there was no faute in hym truelyFor to haue done you shame and velonyA saynt Mary sayth the good man thoHe is a traytoure that I trusted soFor neuer had I of hym ony douteBy god she sayth / yf he come in and outeAnd that I knowe that he dooth with you spekeOr dele then vp / our housholde may we brekeFor after that I shall none with you holdeIf ye so do / for syluer ne for goldeShe sayth / in fayth ye nede not me to gardeI am suffycyent my selfe to wardeIf it please god / I wyll not now begynAgaynst his lawes to do / or vse a synneWith handes Ioyned / to god almyght I prayThat fyre frome heuen aboue descende mayAnd brenne my body all to nought and spylWell rather than I sholde be in suche wyllThen the clepeth hym in her armes twayeAnd sayth my lorde / herken what I saye
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Ouer false I were / yf I sholde euyll doTo you that be so fayre and good thertoFor what I wyll / my loue ye wyll the sameBut yf I loued you well I were to blameI wyll that ye so god me saue and mendeYour hous frome hym forbede wolde and defendeWith whome your frende / me falsely hath accusedAnd you deceyued thus / and sore abusedNow be it frely do I gyue or sellMy soule vnto the foulest fende of hellIf euer he to me spake lesse or moreBut not withstandynge yet by cryst therforeI wyll not that he come in place where IShall happen for to be in companyThan she to wepe began ryght tenderlyAnd this good man appeased her spedelyPromysynge her with othes grete that heWolde kepe and holde all thynges whiche that sheAfore had sayd / excepte he nolde defendeThis felawe frome his house / and there an endeAll be it in his herte with some remorsHe shall be charged sore / but yet no forceFor so it happeth in conclusyonThat suche dyspleasure and deuysyonBet wene hym and his frende herof dooth fallThat he the gretest ennemy of allTo hym shall be / the whiche for loue hym toldeHath all the trouthe / whome he beleuene woldeSo this good man a veray beest is madeSuche Ioyes of the husholde he hath hadAnd in the lepe he is yclosed depeOut of the whiche he shall not lyghtly crepeAnd this good wyfe moche better in her guyse
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Shall do / then euer she dyde or coude deuyseAnd neuer man of her shall tell hym thyngeFor he wyll not beleue suche rekenyngeAnd he the whiche this velony hath doneThe best beloued frende shall be then soneThat he shall haue / and thus aege hym vponShortely dooth fall / and pouerte anoneWher with perchaunce so sore he may be greuedThat neuer after shall he be releuedSuche is the pleasure / whiche this man hath foundeWithin the lepe / and yet folkes on the groundeWyll speke to hym after theyr fantasyOne sayth of hym / thus as he passeth byHe is good Iohan / an other maketh a she weWith his fynger / an other vnthryfty shreweSayth that it is grete domage for to seThis sely man in suche perplexyteAnother sayth / no force of hym in fayIt is nothynge but good ryght of the playSo lyueth he / with payne in pacyenceAnd all these sore wes dooth hym none offenceThe whiche for Ioyes alwaye taketh heBycause he wyll that it none other beSo shall he euermore dwell in dystresAnd ende his dayes in payne and wretchednes
¶ Here endeth the seuenth Ioye of maryage.
¶ Here begynneth the eyght Ioye of maryage.
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[illustration]
UNto the .viii. Ioye syth I must goOf maryage / knowe ye that it is soAs whan a man suche meane hath founde & skyftThus he vn ware in to the lepe is leftWherin he hath had grete felycyteTakynge his pleasures / yeres two or threAnd hath so besy ben to repe and soweThat well the hote heruest is ouer bloweThen other mennes werke wyll he assayNo man at base ne barres may sporte alwayAnd peraduenture he hath had greuaunceynough of trouble / and of dyspleasaunceWherof enfebled gretely than is he
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So that regarde taketh he none to flePerchaunce his wyfe / hath chyldren thre or moAnd grete with chylde agayne she gooth alsoBut she more seke is or this chylde be borneThan she of all these other was beforneWherfore the good man is in thought and dredeTo gete her suche thynge as she must haue nedeBut this good man / dooth his auowes makeTo dyuers holy sayntes for her sakeAnd also she auoweth in that houreUnto our blessyd lady of RochemadoureSo happeth it / as god wyll after thisAnd saynt Mary that she delyuered isOf suche a fayre chylde and goodly thyngeAs myght be well the sone vnto a kyngeShe lyeth longe in bed / now in this wyseThe gossyppes to her come / as is the guyseAnd maketh arete / andtt mery syynge vpWhere besely gooth rounde about the cupAnd so it falleth she hath two or threGossyppes / the whiche abyde with her / and beWithin the house to rule merelyWith her / and gossyp in her companyAnd so shall peraduenture be that theyMay talke of tryftles / whiche I wyll not sayAnd more goodes spende they in suche wyseThen for to fynde the housholde wolde suffyseThe newe tyme approcheth her / and sheIs puryfyed with solempnyteUnto the feldes then / to roue and playeShe and her gossyppes take the ryde wayeWhere as they speke to go on pylgrymageAnd fast they entrepryse for theyr vyage
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For what thynge so the husbande hath to doThey care nothynge / ne haue regarde thertoThen this good wyfe of whome we speke of nowSayth to her gossyppes I wote neuer howI may haue lycence to performe this dedeAnd they her answere saynge haue no dredeGood gentyll gossyp / for we haue no doubteBut ye shall brynge your purpose well abouteAnd we shall go and vs dysporte togyderWhan god well sende tyme and merye wederNow haue they entreprysed as I sayeThis forlayd vyage and departe awayeOne frome an other a myle two or moreAnd thenne this wyfe of whome we spake aforeCometh to her hous. And whan she draweth nereUnto her housbande she maketh euyll chereAnd he is lately comen frome the towneOr elles frome other werkes and setteth downeAnd her demaundeth how it with her isHa syr sayth she I am ryght wrothe y wysOur lytell chylde is euyll at ease and sekeWherof the good man is as angrye ekeAnd sorowfull and cometh it to seeWhan he it seeth / the teres falle in his eyeFor pure pytye / and thenne cometh nyght vponAnd whan they be in secrete place alloneThe wyfe begynneth for to sygh and sayeTruely my loue ye me forgete alwayeAnd how sayth he thynke ye not on sayth sheWhan that I was in grete infyrmyteOf our yonge chylde / and that I made auoweUnto our lady of rochemadoure / and noweTherof it semeth ye take lytell hede
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O god he sayth / my loue ye knowe what nedeTher is / and how moche that I haue to doGood syr she sayth. I put case it be soyet neuer shall I be at ease ne gladdeBy god tyll I this pylgrymage haue madeAnd by my fayth because we do not sekeThese sayntes therfore is oure chylde so sekeMy loue sayth he god knoweth well your good wyllAnd myn also. Ha syr she sayth be styllFor certaynly yf it please god and youI wyll accordynge vnto myn auoweGo with my cosyns and my gossyppes alsUnto our lady I wyll not be falsThen this good man the mater myndeth soreAnd peraduenture hath not all in storeThat to this vyage sholde be requysyteAccordynge to his wyfes appetyteNow is he brought to suche encombraunceThat nedely must he must he make a cheuysaunceOf horses / and perchaunce for them shall payeA certayne hyre to trauayle by the wayeAfter suche porte / estate or elles degreAs he is / and it behoueth that sheA newe gowne haue to ryde in honestlyAnd peraduenture in that companyA gentyll galaunt is / the whiche shall doWith ryght good wyll some seruyce her vntoAlso this good man percase with her gotheOn pylgrymage all be he neuer so wrotheyf he so do / moche better were that tydeFor hym at home to tary or abydeAlway so sore she wyll hym chyde or chekkeThat he shall bere the stones vpon his nekke
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And neuer can she be content ne fayneBut whan that he hath hurte myschefe or payneNow in that Iourney / as she sytteth softeUpon the horse / she her complayneth ofteAnone she sayth / one styrope is to longeAnother is to shorte and lacketh a thongeAlso she sayth / her horse dooth trotte to soreAnd eke to harde / and she is seke therforeThen frome her horse she must alyght anoneAnd she agayne shall sette be hym vponThis good man then / for he shall not be ydleOuer suche a brydge / must lede her by the brydleOr elles a peryllous path / or a narowe wayAnd whan they come be frome this IourneyIf he therby haue had wele or dysporteThat it of her longe / she wyll reporteAnd yf that ony losse / or euyll fallShe chydeth and sayth / on hym it is longe allSo thus and other wyse his goodes wafteHis housholde eke / and his expence in hasteThen mynysshed be / and she sayth hym beforneHow by his chyldren whiche that she hath borneShe gretly wasted is / and this man soyclosed is within the lepe alsoIn sorowes grete / and paynes sharpe and soreAnd taketh them for Ioyes euermoreIn whiche alway he shall be and remayneAnd wretchedly his dayes ende in payne
¶ Here endeth the eyght Ioye of maryage.
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¶ Here begynneth the nynth Ioye of maryage.
[illustration]
THe nynthe Ioye of maryage is whenOne of these yonge lusty and fresshe menIs put in to the pryson or the lepeOf husbandry and can not go ne lepeOut of the same / and grete pleasure hath haddewhiche newely hath be founde in dayes gladdeAnd peraduenture euyll is his wyfeAs many be / wherby aryseth stryfeAnd he a man is of good gouernaunceThe whiche none euyll iuffre wyll perchaunceHow be it dyuers argumentes haue beneAnd other whyles strokes them betweneSo in suche warre / well thyrty or moreThey haue contynued / and ye may knowe therfore
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He hath had moche to suffre and sustayneFor so may be that he hath had certayneGrete parte of sorowes / and aduersyteesThe whiche afore be sayd / in theyr degreesAnd many other suche as ben conteynedHere after in this lytell boke vnfaynedBut neuerthelesse / he dooth remayne alwayUyctoryous / what euer she do or sayAnd hath not ben in shame and velonyThough moche to suffre he hath had therbyAnd for to thynke vpon bycause that heperchauce hath doughters fayre / wel two or threwhiche wysely he hath maryed here and thereTo put them out of Ieoperdy and fereSo happeth it that in a lytell spaceSuche fortune hath this sely man and graceThat for the euyll nyghtes and the dayesAnd colde whiche he hath taken many wayesA cheuysaunce to make / this man dooth fallIn sekenes of the goute / then forth withallOr elles for aege / he is vn weldy soThat he can neyther vp aryse ne goAnd whan that he is set in suche a placeAs he shall in remayne his lyfes spaceIn euyll maner tourned is the chaunceFor than the warre is ended and dystaunceAnd wors it is for dyuers tymes a dayeOf veray hate she wyll vnto hym sayeShe is ryght well assured in certayneHow for his synnes / he hath all that payneAnd one may thynke / whan she afore hym isThus wyll he to her say / my loue y wysye be the thynge that I owebest to loue
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Of all the worlde / excepte our lorde aboueAnd ye also of dutye ben yboundeTo loue me moost of all that lyue on groundeBut wyte ye well / my loue that it is soSome thynges be / that folkes vnto me doswherwith I am not well contente sayth heye knowe of ryght I am and so shall beThe lorde and mayster of this house whyles IMay lyue / but yet folkes do not lyke truelyTo me / for yf that I a poore man werewhiche sholde go fetche his brede bothe ferre & nereMen wolde not do to me as is done nowAnd ye my loue may vnderstanden howThat I haue done grete payne and dylygenceTo make a cheuysaunce for our expenceyour doynges to sustayne / and your estateAnd all our chyldren whiche to me of lateBehaue them selfe full symply as ye seHa what wolde ye that one sholde do sayth sheTo you is doone the best we can or mayAnd ye wote not what we demaunde or sayNow sayth this man / holde your peas good dameAnd kepe your tonge in rest for worldly shameThe sone also to hym dooth speke and rayleSo what this good man sayth may not auayleAnd thus she and the sone departe hym froHis herytage emperynge euernioAnd for the good man / no prouysyonIs made / and thus they in conclusyonAgre and make accorde bytwene them botheThat neuer creature / whiche cometh or gotheShall with hym speke / and then the sone anonThe gouernaunce presume wyll hym vpon
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And take the rule more than he dyde aforeAnd well content his moder is therforeFor she so dooth supporte hym and mayteneAlso they make well euery man to weneThat he is fall in to a frenesyOr is retorned to his InfancyThus vnto euery wyght sayth she and heAnd this good man must take it all in greFor other remedy none may be haddeAmonge them so harde he is bestaddeAnd as to me I well beleue certayneThis is one of the greatest erthely payneAnd sorowe / that on the grounde a man may feleThus this good man his penaunce dooth ryght weleAnd so shall be in mornynge euermoreEndrnge his dayes wretchedly and soreCursynge the tyme that in the lepe he cameTo be enclosed / and in this wyse made tame▪
¶Here endeth the nynth Ioye of maryage.
¶Here begnneth the tenth Ioye of maryage.
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[illustration]
THe tenthe Ioye of maryage to wyteIs as I fynde it in a boke y wryteWhan that he whiche in to the lepe is broughtBycause that he hath sene so as he thoughtOther fysshes them baynynge in the sameWhiche to his demynge / had a mery gameAnd so he trauayled hath tyll tyme heIn to the lepe hath founde the ryght entreAnd one may say that he by subtylteMade was to come / in to that gynne and beOf maryage / lyke as a fouler oldeThese byrdes taketh in the wynter coldeWith other byrdes whiche he afore hath had
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And for that feate hathe them well taught and made▪And bereth them about vpon his backeWithin his panyer or elles a sackeWhiche with a threde be teyed by the foteFor to remayne there is none other boteMoche eased were these poore byrdes yf theyMyght be at lyberte and fle awayAs other do frome a ryuer or a dykeUnto an other where they myght fede / and pykeOf euery maner vytayle / for them meteWhan other se these byrdes by the feteYteyed fast / they haste vnto the gynneAnd sodaynly they be taken therinBut yf it be some wyle byrdes that haueExperyence them to preserue and saueFrome suche daungere / and wysely can be wareSurely to kepe them frome the nette or snareFor they in tyme afore haue herde and seneOf other byrdes whiche in that case haue beneThis not withstandynge they that wydded areOf whiche we shewe the passe tyme and declareHaue them aduysed of this crafte / and theyBut lytell euyll thought in it alwayOr elles percase without aduyse in hasteIn to the gynne one hath his body casteWhere as in Ioyes demed he to taryNeuerthelesse / he fyndeth the contraryAnd other whyles it may fortune soThat for suche thynges as shewed are them toBy totelers or flatterers that vseTo cause descorde / and falsely folke accnseThe wyfe shall neuer more for erthely thyngeHer husbande loue / vnto her last endynge
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Then wyll she saye vnto her moder thusOr to our cosyn / by our lorde IhesusWhan I with hym in bedde am layde adouneHis flesshe it stynketh lyke a caryouneAnd he to her shall neuer plaesure doNe loue / but euer lyue in malyce soAnd ofte it happeth / many men that heIn suche estate / of hyghe and lowe degreAnd women bothe yet wyll they not lyue chasteBut ease them selfe by other meanes in hasteAnd whan that she a whyle hath ben awayWith her good loue / for to dysporte and playAnd largely hath her parte had of the gameThen her to kepe frome velony and shameSome of her frendes good / wyll she entretePeace with her moder shortely sor to geteThe whiche by coloure / and craftely can sayeThat she within her house hath ben alwayeThe poore doughter pryuely is goneFor she so sore her dredde / that her good monWolde her haue bet / as he hath doone or thanWherfore vnto her moders house she ranneAnd he hathe wonder where that she may beBut so it was that afterwardes heWithin her moders house / soone dooth her fyndeTo whome he speketh with an hasty myndeWhat deuyll brought the hyder / and for whyDeparted thou frome home so sodaynlySyr by our lorde she sayth / for drede that yeWithouten cause / sore wolde haue stryken meThen sayth the moder / certes me were leuerThat ye sone / and my doughter sholde dysse•…•…And that ye leue her here with me to kepe
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Then for to bete her alway tyll she wepeFor I knowe well / my doughter hath not doneDefaute to you / but ye be angry soneBeholde this mater / loke theron and seIf she of euyll gouernaunce had beShe had be lost / but ye may se hereFrome shame and mysrule for to kepe her clereStreyght vnto me she came / for she ne hadNone other helpe / wherof ye may be gladAnd she by ryght / her may repente and reweThat she to you / hath ben so kynde and trweAnd it may fortune other whyles that theyDemaunde to be departed bysome weyWherfore the husbande dooth accuse the wyfeAnd she agayne / as sharpe as swerde or knyfeUnto the husbande quyckely dooth the sameye may be sure / her tonge shall not be lameSo are they in the lepe / and wolde be outBut so it may not be withouten douteIt is no tyme them to repente / for whyThen is none other way ne remedyAfore the lawe / faste do they plede theyr causeAnd by theyr aduocates she we many a clauseBut other whyle allegge they no cause whyThey sholde haue theyr entente so hastelyThan sayth ye Iuge ryght playnly in IugementUnto them thus by good aduysementThe lawe it wyll that ye togyder holdeIn company your lyues and housholdeAnd here vnto the Iuge them dooth aduyseBut so to do / yet be they not so wyseFor why / suche goodes as they hadde aforeThey haue mysse vsed euyll spente and lore
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And yet they be not werye but endureIn theyr oppynyons stydfaste and sureSo mokke and skorne them folkes ferre and nereWhiche of the mater / vnderstande or hereAnd other whyles / causes reasonnableOne dooth alledge / and thynges acceptableFor whiche the Iuge departeth them a sondreAll be it so that folkes vpon it wondreThenne one of them or other folysshelyWyll vse them selfe in lyuynge vycyouselySome tyme the woman gothe fro twone to towneAnd in to the mennys chambres vp and downeWhere she her pleasures taketh of the gameAnd parauenture he wyll do the sameSupposynge they ben at theyr lyberteOut of the lepe of maryage and freeBut yet be they in wors cas thenne beforeAnd thus this man hym wasteth more and moreOf what astate so euer that he beAnd in the same maner / wasteth sheFor neuer after maye they wedde agayneDurynge theyr lyues by the lawes playneOf fraunce but yet in englonde other wyseThey vse and haue a custome and a gyseWhiche is an other for to take and weddeMan or woman / where best they can be speddeMen thynke in fraunce / suche shamed be for euerAs in that wyse contynue and perserueAnd namely yf they be of hyghe parentageBorne or descended / for a good lynageFor parauenture a galaunt openlyWithin his hous shall kepe her shame fullySo shall he be within the lepe adowne
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In sorowe care and lementacyonWhere he alwaye in paynes and dystresseShall lyue and ende his dayes in wretchednesse
¶ Here endeth the .x. Ioye of maryage
¶ Here begynneth the .xi. Ioye of maryage
[illustration]
THe .xi. Ioye of maryage to sayeIs whan a yonge lusty man and gayeA gentyll ioly galaunt wyllgo outeFor his dysporte / the countrees hym abouteInto ryght many places all the yereAnd in especyall he wyll go where
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These ladyes and the gentylwomen beAfter thestate condycyon or degreeThat he is of / and for that he is yongeAnd amerous / he preceth them amongeNo charge hathe he of ony other thyngeSo that he may contynue his lyuyngeIn pleasures whiche by nyghtes and by dayesRyght many profres maketh and assayesAnd yf it fortune so that he may fyndeA lady or a gentylwoman kyndeWith whome he hathe some thynge to do or sayHis mynde and wyll applyeth he alwayAnd dothe his best / her for to please and serueTo that entente he may her grace deserueAnd somtyme cometh he in suche placeWhere as a mayde he fyndeth fayre of faceAnd parauenture not so grete is heOf lygnage / ne of noble as is sheAnd for that she so goodly is and fayreThese supplyauntes somtyme to her repayreAnd them amonge one is that dothe entreteHer for to haue / and profereth gyftes greteWhome she but lyte refuseth or denyethFor euery gentylwoman her applyethThe whiche debonayre is and hathe pyteCompassyon to haue in that degreeOn suche as them / humbly beseche and prayeIn goodly wyse / they ought not to denayeyf theyr petycyon be resonnableWithouten vylonye / an〈…〉〈…〉ourableTorne we agayne to this fayre damoysellThat of her maners somwhat I may tellOf her conceytes and dysposycyon
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whiche by constraynt or elles oppressyoneOf suche a poore felowe is forlayneAnd neuer shall she▪ fynde ne gete agayneThat she hathe lost / for where she was a maydeSo hathe this homely felowe her betraydeThat she is grete wt chylde / ye whiche her damePerceyueth wele / for she knoweth of the gameAnd in that crafte she wylye is and felfeFor so it fortune may / that she hathe alseSomtyme ben / in lyke condycyonThe better can she fynde prouysyonAnd neuer shall this felowe touche her moreNor come to her as he was wonte beforeThe wyfe this mater wyll / so rule and gydeThis counseyll kepynge closse on euery sydeAll thynges muste be taken as they beOf reason / wysedome / and necessyteThis poore damoseyll with chylde / is gretewhiche of conceyuynge / hathe the tyme foryeteFor of herselfe knoweth she but lyteHow she was brought in to suche ease & plyteAnd she nothynges knoweth of that arteNe what it is she toke so lytell parteBut yf it please our lorde god she shall knoweHow sedes groweth after they be soweThe moder auyseth wele and seeth her hewewhiche knoweth the olde testament and neweAnd calleth her into a secrete placeShe sayth come hyder with an euyll graceHaue I not sayd to the afore this houreThat thou hast lost thy worshyp and honoureTo do as thou hast done thus folylyBut whan a thynge is done what remedye
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That thou arte grete with chylde I knowe it wele / Tell me the trouthe and drede the neuer a deleNow fayre moder I wote not as ye sayeTo tell you trouthe wheder it be so or nayeThen sayth the moder / it semeth me alwayewhan that the morowe cometh euery dayeI here the coughe / and pytously forbrakeAnd dyuers other countenaunces makeNow truely so it is she sayth madameHa sayth her moder holde thy pease for shameThou arte with chylde / tell it not all abouteNe to none erthely persone breke it outAnd alwaye take a good respecte and hedeTo do as I the shall commaunde and bedeMadame so shall I do in euery thyngeAnd lowely you obeye / and your byddyngeThe moder then sayth to her doughter thoHast thou not sene so often come and goInto our hous suche a yonge squyer ofteAnd she sayth yes madame with wordes softeNow then aduyse the wele for incertayneTomorowe heder wyll he come agayneThen take good hede that thou make hym good chereIn godly wyse and in thy best manereAnd whan that other gentylmen and meThou seest togyder talke / then cast an eyeOn hym alwaye / and this good moder soHer doughter techeth wele how she shall doAlso I the commaunde and charge yf heOf ony maner thynges speke to theHerken hym wele / and answere curteyllyAnd swetely rule thy speche and manerlyAnd yf he speke of loue / or thynges lyke
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Thenne other whyles softely gyue a sykeAnd thanke hym hertyly / but say y wysThou knowest not yet / what maner thynge loue isNe it to lerne / thou wylte not the applyRule and demeane the well and womanlyAnd golde or syluer yf he proffre theThenne take it not in hast / but herken meyf he the proffre Iuell crosse or ryngeGyrdell bracelet owcheor other thyngeRefuse it gracyouesely / but at the lastyf he it often offre the and fastReceyue it thenne / in goodly wyse and takeFor loue of hym / saynge that for his sakeThou wyll it kepe / thykynge no vyllonyeShame ne deceyte / that shall ensuye therbyAnd whan he taketh leue of the to goThenne hym demaunde or he departe the froyf one shall see hym hastyly agaynewherof say that / thou wolde be glad and fayneHere is this galaunt come whiche shall be castynto the lepe / and therin holden fastFor why the dame wyll cause hym for to weddeHer doughter sone / and with her do to beddeyf that she can by ony carfte or wyleThis galaunt she porposeth to be gyleFor he moche hathe / of herytage and rentAnd is / but symple and an InnocentNow cometh he this damoysell to seeIn hast for ouer wele at ease is heRyght many galaūtes bent haue theyr engyneTo take this damoysell / and vndermyneThe lady taketh a squyer by the handeOr elles a knyght and other sytte or stande
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whiche Ioyeously togyder talke and rayleThis galaunt eke draweth to the damoysayleAnd by the hande he dothe her take and holdeSayenge fayre damoysell good god it woldeThat ye my thought wele knewe and vnderstodeAnd how may I she sayth for any godeKnowe it / but yf ye wyll it to me sayewhat do ye thynke suche thynges as ye ne mayTelle me / nay by my fayth I wolde that yeKnewe it so that It were not sayd by meTruely she sayth and laugheth pratylyye telle a thynge to me / so meruaylouselywhiche to be done it is as / in possybleAs for to cause an horse walke in vysybleyf it had lyked you this glaunt saythAnd no dyspleasyr taken in good faythI wolde haue playnely shewed you my thoughtNow syr sayth she telle on and spare it noughtSo moche of you knowe I that by the rodeye wyll not say / ne shewe thynge / but all godeMaystresse he sayth / ye knowe ryght welle that IAm but a poore gentylman for whyI wote I am vn worthy / and vnableTo be youre loue / or with you compaygnableFor ye be gentyll fayre and gracyouseAnd of all vertues full and beauteuouseAnd yf it pleased you to do to meSuche honour that your louer I myght beI durst maste myn avaunt that with good wylleI sholde do all the pleasyrs you vntylleThat any man / by possybylyteMay to his lady do in soueraynteI shall you serue / and eke your honour kepe
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More thenne myn owne whether ye wake or slepeGraunt mercy syr thenne sayth this damoysellBut for the loue of god speke neuer adellOf suche thynges vnto me after thisFor I knowe not what maner thynge loue isNe yet I wyll not lerne it ferthermoreFor it is not doctryne ne the loreThe whiche my moder hathe me taught alwayeThenne sayth this squyer damoysell in fayMy fayre lady of whome ye speke is goodBut I wolde not yet that she vnderstodeSuche thynges as be sayd be twexte vs twayeA syr she sayth yf you I haue herde sayeThis other daye / that ye sholde maryed beWherof I maruayle and ye come to meAnd speke suche ydell wordes / and thenne heSayth damoysell ObenedycyteNow by my faythe yf that it please yoweI shall neuer other wedde I make auoweWhyle that I lyue / so that ye wyll me takeAs for youre seruaunt and I vndertakeThat with my seruyce ye shall be contenteWhat wolde ye haue me deshonoured and shenteShe sayth / nay yet me leuer were to dyeSayth he / thenne for to do you vyllonyeFor goodes loue be styll and speke no moreHerof and I shall tell you syr wherforeyf that / my / moder it perceyue or wytteI shall destroyed be I knowe wele itAnd parauenture the moder maketh a sygneThat of her spekynge she shall cesse and fyneAnd thenne this galaunt gyueth her a ryngeUnder her hande or elles some other thynge
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Saynge to her / fayre lady I you prayTake this and kepe it / for my loue alwayCertes sayth she I wyll not take noAlas my loue he sayth / why saye ye soI pray you hertely / and in her handeHe putteth it agayne so as they standeAnd she it taketh and sayth / this I receyueTo haue your loue as you may well perceyueWithout thought of thynge / but all honoureI take wytenesse vnto my sauyoureThe lady of that house thus speketh thenIn curteyse wyse vnto the gentyll menTo moro we must I go with goddes graceUnto a blyssed lady of suche a placeOn pylgrymage to suche a toune here byTruely madame they say / ryght vertuouslyAnd well ye speke / and forth withall they goTo souper / and this galaunt euermoAnenst this damoysell is put or setThat he to her may talke withouten letAnd she so well can make her personageIn suche a wyse / that he halfe in a rageWith loue is take of her that was so bryghtAnd beauteuous as semed to his syghtThe moro we cometh this company must rydeOn pylgrymage / and lenger not abydeAnd all men say they can not se ne fyndeAn horse amonge them all yt bereth behyndeExcepte this galaūtes horse there by saynt loyWherof grete pleasure taketh he and IoyFor one the damoysell behynde his backeDooth sette vpon his horse / and he no lackeFyndeth therin / and she clyppeth hym fast
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To holde her on the horse / that he ne castHer doune / and god wote ther with he is easedAs an hauke whiche hathe an heron seasedNow draweth he nyghe the lepe withouten boteThey do this foresayd vyage god it woteWith perfyte mynde / and good entencyonAnd home retorne / as made is mencyonWhere merely / they set them doune to meteWith suche vytayles as they can fynde and geteAnd after mete the lady fayre and wellGooth to her chambre / and this damoysellTo whome she sayth / whan thou spekest wt this manSay vnto hym as sadly as thou canThat there is one / whiche spoken hath to theOf maryage but thou ne wylte accorded beAs yet / and yf he offre the to takeThanke hym / and say that he must meanes makeTo me / and put the mater to my wyllAnd that I do therin thou shalte fulfyllOn my behalfe / and say that there is noneLyuynge in this worlde I excepte not oneThat thou louest halfe so wele in certaynteAs hym / so as may stande with honesteAnd all they after walketh twayne and twayneTogyder arme in arme to the gardeyneWhere as amonge the herbes / and the flouresThey smell and taste the holsom swete odouresAnd playenge take the floures by the stalkeWhiche to theyr nose they put so as they walkeOne taketh a gelofer or vyolereAn other plucketh of the englentereAnd euery one of them as they espyeTake herbe or floure after theyr fantasye
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This galaunt squyre with the doughter gotheAnd telleth her euery thynge / but she is wrotheAlas she sayth / speke no more so for IShall yf ye do / forsake your companyWhat wolde ye do me semeth ye supposeTo cause me / myn honoure for to loseHaue ye not herde of late dayes ysaydeThat one to mary me hath spoke and praydeNow by my soule he sayth I can not blameHym / though to mary you / he wolde attameBut I thynke that of myn habylyteI am as good in value as is heAnd eke as able / seruyce you to doAs is the man of whome that ye speke soNow by my fayth she sayth than with a sykeI wolde that he were to your persone lykeGraunt mercy fayre damoysell he saythFor of your grete curteysy in faythWell more than I am worthy / ye me prayseBut ye myn honoure gretely may vp rayseyf ye wolde take me as your man to graceTo do you seruyce all my lyues spaceAnd she sayth syr graunt mercy ther withallThis must be spoken in especyallUnto my fader sadly and my moderAnd to my kynne / and frendes dyuers oderThan sayth he thus / yf I myght knowe yt theySholde be content / I wold bothe speke & preyA syr she sayth / be ware that ye ne sayeThat ye to me haue spoken by ony wayFor rather wolde I suffre dethe / than yeSholde ony wordes she we of preuyteThat hathe be sayd in ony maner wyse
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Byt wene vst wayne / nay that is not my guyseSayth he / whiche to the moder speketh sooneAnd as god wolde in suche poynte was the moonewhan he vnto the moder made requestThat he all his desyre had at the leestFor she and other haue them trouthes plyghtAnd peraduenture caused them at nyghtTo gyder / for to lye in bedde and slepeNow is this poore squyre plonged depewithin the lepe / and spedely they makeThe weddynge / for this gentyl womans sakeAnd hastely they do this mater spedeBycause her frendes haue grete doute and dredeLeste ony let may come in this matereFor in the wynde the weder was clereThe nyght is come after they be weddeThis damoysell with man must go to beddeAnd knoweye wele / the olde wyle damewyll teche her doughter / som what of the gameHow she ryght may denly shall her demeaneAs though she were an holy vyrgyn cleaneMyn auctour sayth her moder dooth her techeThat whan her husbande wyll vnto her recheShe shall for drede tremble / quake and cryeAnd hym withstande / and how that she shall lyeIn many maner wyse as sholde a maydeUpon the nyght whan she fyrst is assaydeAlso the moder dooth her well enfourmeHow she shall her demeane / and in what fourmewhan that this galaunt her wolde enforce or strykeAlso sodaynly than shall she sterte and sykeAs though she wrre cast in colde water depeUp to the brestes / also she shall wepe
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But in conclusyon as to the dedeShe playneth metely wele whan she must nedeAnd yet the fader and the moder botheFor loue and pyte angry be and wrothewhiche that they haue vpon theyr doughter yongeSupposynge that this man hath doone her wrongeAnd causes them in presence to be broughtNow hath this squyre founde that he hath soughtHere may ye se one of the gretest payneFor she whiche with aladde hath ben forlayneOr monethes thre may passe and come abouteShall haue a baby lapped in a clouteOftymes a go then Ioyes and pleasaunceTo heuynes be tourned and penaunceAnd peraduenture he shall her after beteAnd manace curse and chyde with wordes greteAnd neuer after shall good housholde kepeSo in the lepe he put is for to stepeAnd out therof he neuer shall departeOf soro we and heuynes he shall haue parteAnd euer more abyde shall in dystresEndynge his dayes in care and wretchednes
¶Here endeth the enleueth Ioye of maryage.
¶Here begynneth the twelfth Ioye of maryage.
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[illustration]
THe twelfth Ioye of maryage for to sayIs whan ayonge man by many a dayIn suche a maner comen hath and goneThat he in to the lepe hath founde anoneThe streyght entre / and also ferthermoreHe hath her founde whome he demaunded foreAnd he some other myght percas haue hadBut for no thynge he wolde / and he is gladOf this / for as hym semeth he hath seteHis loue so wele / that no man coude do beteAnd that he was so happy her to fyndewhiche so good is / and mete vnto his myndeAnd peraduenture suche a man is he
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As by her councell wyll well ruled beSo that whan ony wyght hath for to dowith hym / he sayth I shall go speke vntoThe good wyfe of our house / and yf she wyllIt shall be doone / and yf so be she nyllIn no wyse shall the mater take effecteAs pleaseth her she wyll graunt or reiecteAnd here it cometh to the poynte anoneI put the case he be a gentylmonAnd that his prynce an army do preparewith whiche he is commaunded for to fareThen yf the wyfe it wyll for the shall he goAnd yf she do replye / he shall not soUnto the wyfe / thus may he say perchaunceMy loue I must me spedely auaunceStreyght to the kynges army well arayedAnd she shall say syr / be ye not afrayedwhat wyll ye go and cause you to be slayneHow sholde we do yfye come not agayneye thynke but lyte what shall become of meAnd in good poynt / than sholde your chyldren beBut shortely for to speke / yf it her pleaseHe shall go forthe / and somtyme for her easeOfhym the hous she can delyuer clenewhan that her lyketh best / here what I meneFor whyder it pleaseth her hym out to sendeHe shall go quyckely forthe / and there an endeUnto suche sayntes as she auo we hath madewhiche to perfourme for her he wyll be gladeAnd whyder yt it be wynde / snowe hayle or rayneUpon her byddynge shall he go certayneAnd so may be a galaunt herynge thisThe whiche her lemman or her louer is
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And knoweth the entres of the house aboutWell vnderstandynge that this man is outDesyrynge with her for to speke and talkeWithouten taryenge wyll to her walkeFor lenger in no wyse may he abydeBut on the nyght / whan come is the tydeIn to her house he entreth secretelyAnd where as the good man was wonte tolyThis homely galaunt boldely lyeth hym douneWhiche hath god wote a grete deuocyonFor to accomplysshe his desyres and wyllAnd this good wyfe her kepeth close and styllThe whiche dysdeyneth for to crye or callRyght well in paeyence she taketh allFor whan some woman seeth a man dooth takeGrete payne and labour onely for her sakeOf pyte neuer wyll she hym refuseAnd though that she sholde deye he shall her vseShe hath a bowe that by her standeth bentAnd he artyllery that must be spentIt happeth ofte he in the house abydethAnd in a corner preuyly hym hydethWhan that a lytell dogge dooth at hym bayAnd yf the good man / what is that wyll sayThe wyfe wyll answere / syr it is a ratteThat he dooth barke / or elles at the catteFor ofte tymes afore he hath doone soThus wyll she say with many wordes moSo shortly for to speke this man is trappedAnd in the lepe he closed is and lappedShe maketh hym the chyldren for to bereWhan they wolde play / and dady here and thereAlso she causeth hym to take and holde
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Her spyndell and the thredes to vnfoldeUpon the saterday / whan she dooth releAnd she wyll chyde yf he do not weleNow hath he foūde a thynge whiche he hath soughtAnd vpon hym newly dooth fall a thoughtFor warre begynneth in that regyonAnd euery man vnto the strongest touneWyll drawe that he can fynde to saue his lyfeBut he at home abyde must with his wyfeAnd may not leue her wherfore he perchaunceIs take prysoner / and grete fynaunceThen must he pay / or elles in pryson dwellThis can this man of care and sorowe tellWhiche in his husholde kepynge he hath foundeFor nyght and day he must trotte on the groundeUytayles to gete / or for some other nedeAnd shortly for to say so dooth he spedeThat his poore body neuer shall haue restUnto the tyme he put be in his chestThen falleth he in sykenes and in aegeWherby with hym is past lust and courageWell lesse than prayed shall he be alwayAnd lyke a foulecouer be cast awayWhiche is not wrothe to occupy that crafteSo is all Ioye and pleasure hym beraftThe wyfe hath doughters two or thre or moWhiche wolde be maryed / and they be not soWherfore they prayse this good man but a lyteBut haue hym in dysdayne / and grete dyspyteIn to the goute he falleth seke and soreAnd helpe hymselfe so shall he neuer moreFor euyll paynes suche as he hath hadWhiche with his wyfe / hath thus ben ouerlad
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Than may this poore man his synnes wepeWithin the lepe / where he is closed depeOut of the whiche he neuer shall departeBut styll remayne / and euer take his parteOf Ioyes suche as be in maryageWhiche he from youth hath founde vnto his aegeAnd yet hym fallen is more heuynesseFor he ne dare cause for to synge a messeNe make his last wyll and testamentBut yf his wyfe ther vnto wyll consentFor he to her so buxome is and bondeThat body and soule he putteth in her handeThus vsyth he his lyfe in languysshyngeAlway / and eke a sorowfull endyngeHe shall sustayne and wretchedly his dayesThis man shall ende withouten myrth or playesAnd all is the cause of his good wyfeThat causeth hym so to be caytyfe
¶ Here endeth the twelfth Ioye of maryage.
¶ Here begynneth the .xiii. Ioye of maryage
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The .xiii. Ioye of maryage is soThat whan that he whiche wedded is alsoWithin the lepe hathe ben and dwelled thereWith his good wyfe well syxe or seuen yereOr elles peraduenture more or lesseThe certaynte wherof I do but gesseAnd demeth he is sure by his aduyseThat he hath founde a woman good and wyseWith whome he rested hath in grete pleasaunceAnd he a gentylman may be perchaunceWhiche for to gete hym worshyp and honoureWolde put hym forthe / to do his best deuoureThen to his wyfe he wyll declare and say
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My loue I must ryde out on my IourneyTo suche a londe nyghe to the realme of fraunceWhere I may wynne grete fame and valyaunceAnd she ther with ofte wolde hym clyppe and kysWepynge and syghynge / and say O what is thysAlas my loue wyll ye departe so sooneLeuynge me here with all this charge to dooneAnd in no wyse ye vnderstande certayneIf ones or neuer ye shall come home agayneBothe nyght and daye she dooth vpon her sydeAll that she can to cause hym to abydeMy loue sayth he. I must of veray nedeThis Iourney take on me how so I spedeOr elles shall I lese / bothe the fees and wageAll that I haue and eke myn herytageThe whiche I holde / and with goddes graceI shall come home agayne in lytell spaceAnd in aduenture he gooth ouer the seWith suche a prynce or in a grete armeTo gete hym honoure / or for chyualrySo of his wyfe than taketh he congyeWhiche maketh all the dole that one can makeAt suche departynge for her husbandes sakeFor yf he be suche one as loueth honourThere is no wyfe loue ne peramourThat frome the dede of armes may hym holdeIf he an hardy persone be and boldeTurne we agayne to this noble man anoneThe whiche vpon his vyage forthe is goneAnd vnto god he recommaundeth allHis wyfe and his chyldren in especyallIt happeth that he ouer the see gooth clereAnd where his ennemyes are he draweth nere
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His fortune may so by aduenture varyThat yeres thre or foure he shall out taryHow he is deed the wyfe than hath herde sayWherof she maketh sorowes nyght and daySo grete that for to here it is meruayleBut alway may she not so wepe and wayleFor blyssed be god / she dooth appece at lastAnd so it happeth that she is maryed fastUnto an other man / and dooth forgeteHer olde husbande / and all the Ioyes greteAnd loue / that she vnto hym bare in her myndeHere may ye se / that she can torne and wyndeFor now the solace and the pleasures oldeAnd feruent loue with her be waxen coldeWhiche to her husbande she was wonte to makeAnd reason why / for she a newe hath takeThe folkes then / suche as afore haue seneThe maner of the delynge them bytweneSayth that this newe man she loueth moreThan that she dyde her husbande here to foreBut so it is as fortune dooth constrayneHer other husbande cometh home agayneWhiche olde and feble growen is to seFor alway at his pleasure was not heAnd whan he to his countree draweth nereOf newes hastely he doeth enquereBothe of his wyfe / and of his chyldren allGrete doute he hath / how it is with them allSupposynge they be deed or elles greuedSome otherwyse whiche he wolde were releuedAnd prayeth god them for to saue and kepeFull pytously well nye in poynte to wepeAnd it may happen well in the same houre
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That this man prayed deuoutly foro socureHe whiche the wyfe so wedded late agayneEnbraceth her fast in his armes twayneThan hereth he how that they maryed wereBut how he pleased is suche newes to hereI trowe the sorowe of Abraham & the payneWas not so grete / whiche his sone sholde haue slayneNe yet the sorowe of Iacob and his soneTo his were lyke / ne none vnder the sonneFor Tantalus whiche cheyned lyeth in hellCan not of greter payne and sorowe tellThan this poore man whiche dooth hym selfe so castIn suche a sorowe as shall endure and lastPerpetuelly / whiche he shall not recureNe yet forgete / but in the same endureAnd other whyle the chyldren haue grete shameTo se theyr moder / brought in suche defameAnd neuer shall they mary one ne otherOf many a yere / for mysrule of the motherIt fortune may / somtyme that in batayleAs it dooth oft / some man dooth not preuayleBut at askarmysshe / slayne is cruellyOr in a felde myn auctour sayth / for whyOfte happeth it / that he whiche hath the ryghtShall vaynquysshed be / or elles put vnto flyghtI put case that this man gooth to his wyfeAnd in his yre wyll make debate and stryfeWith her and with her husbande wedded neweNow what a vengeaunce herof may enseweHe cometh home with swerdes snarpe and bryghtAnd peraduenture late within the nyghtWhiche fyndeth them togyder bothe in beddeThan swereth he by the blode that Ihesus bledde
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They shall be slayne withouten ony remedyAnd they aryse bothe all hastelyA fore that he the doores can vp brekeAnd ryght pyteously to hym dooth spekeAlas my loue she sayth / what do ye nowI wende ye had ben deed I make auowBy many a man it hath benshewed and saydThat ye were slayne and in your graue ylaydeBut for that I wolde knowe the certaynteI was vnmaryed more than yeres threAnd suche a sorowe made I nyght and dayThat all my wytte and reason fyll awayHelples I was / longe tyme in wo and careAnd god it wote full euyll dyde I fareThat ye were deed / eche man sayd out of douteAnd I ne coude well brynge ye worlde abouteWherfore my frendes aduysed me to maryAnd so I dyde / for what cause sholde I taryYe neuer sente me worde / how that ye dydeBut ye alway your counceyle fro me hydeAnd as this wyly woman stode and talkedThe newly wedded husbande / softely stalkedAnd toke a bowe in hande / and dyde it bendeAnd boldly sayd / he wolde his place defendeThan sayd the wyfe vnto her husbandes botheGood gentyll syrs / yfye wolde not be wrotheBut well agre / I trust you bothe to pleaseMy selfe / and you at euery tyme well easeThe olde husbāde thus knowȳge of theyr dedeDeparteth sodaynly / for he must nedeWith shame ynough / and hasteth hym awayAnd they within the house fast laugh and playAnd after this so seke he is and sadde
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That he within a whyle is waxen maddeWherfore I say / he that may fortune soAs dyde this man whiche wolde for honour goThe way in to the lepe of maryageStreyght hath he founde as byrde in to the cageHow be it he afore was not so wyseOf so grete Ieoperdyes to take aduyseSo shall he lede his lyfe and hym enableTo be a sole / and mete to bere the bableAnd at the last in paynes greuouslyHe shall his dayes ende / and wretchedly
¶Here endeth the .xiii. Ioye of maryage.
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