The works of our ancient, learned, & excellent English poet, Jeffrey Chaucer as they have lately been compar'd with the best manuscripts, and several things added, never before in print : to which is adjoyn'd The story of the siege of Thebes, by John Lidgate ... : together with The life of Chaucer, shewing his countrey, parentage, education, marriage, children, revenues, service, reward, friends, books, death : also a table, wherein the old and obscure words in Chaucer are explained, and such words ... that either are, by nature or derivation, Arabick, Greek, Latine, Italian, French, Dutch, or Saxon, mark'd with particular notes for the better understanding of their original.

A Praise of Women.

ALtho thee list of women evill to speak, And sain of hem worse than they de∣serve, I pray to God y^• her neckes to break, Or on som evil death mote tho janglers sterve For every man were holden hem to serve, And do hem worship, honour, and servise, In every manner that they best coud devise.

For we ought first to think on w^t manere They bring vs forth, and w^t pain they endure First in our birth, and sith fro yere to yere How busely they done their busie cure, To keepe vs fro every misaventure In our youth when we have no might Our selfe to keepe, neither by day nor night.

Alas, how may we say on hem but wele, Of whom we were fostred and ybore, And ben all our succour, & ever true as stele, And for our sake full oft they suffer sore, * Without women were all our joy lore, Wherfore we ought all women to obey In all goodnesse, I can no more say.

This is wel knowne, and hath ben or this, That women ben cause of all lightnesse, Of knighthood, norture, eschuing all mallis, Encrease of worship, and of all worthinesse, Thereto curteis & meke, & ground of all good∣nesse, Glad and merry, & true in every wise That any gentill hert can thinke or devise.

And though any would trust to your vn∣truth, And to your faire words would aught assent, In good faith me thinketh it wer great ruth, That other women shuld for her gilt be shent, That never knew, ne wist nouʒt of her entent, Ne list not to heare the faire words ye write, Which ye you paine fro day to day tendite.

But who may beware of your tales vntrue, That ye so busily paint and endite, For ye will swere that ye never knew, Ne saw the woman, neither much ne lite, Save only her, to whom ye had delite, As for to serve of all that ever ye sey, And for her love must ye needs dey.

Then will ye swere y^• ye knew never before What love was, ne his dredfull observaunce, But now ye feele that he can wound sore, Wherfore ye put you into her governaunce, Whom love hath ordeind you to serve & do ple∣sance W^th al your miʒt your litle lives space Which endeth soone, but if she do you grace.

And then to bed will he soone draw, And soone sicke ye will you then faine, And swere fast your Lady hath you slaw, And brought you suddainly inso high a paine y^t fro your death may no man you restraine, With a daungerous looke of her eyen two, That to your death must ye needs go.

Thus will ye morne, thus will ye sigh sore, As though your hert anon in two wold brest, And swere fast that ye may live no more, Mine owne Lady, that might if ye lest Bring mine hert somedele into rest, As if you list mercy on me to have, Thus your vntrouth will ever mercy crave.

Thus woll ye plain, tho ye nothing smert, These innocent creatures for to beguile, And swere to hem, so wounded is your hert For her love, that ye may live no while. Scarsly so long as one might go a mile, So hieth death to bring you to an end, But if your soverain Lady list you to amend.

And if for routh she comfort you in any wise For pity of your false othes sere, So y^• innocent weneth y^t it be as you devise, And weneth your heart be as she may here, Thus for to comfort & somwhat do you chere. Then woll these janglers deme of her full ill, And saine that ye have her fully at your will.

Lo how ready her tonges been, and prest To speake harme of women causelesse, Alas, why might ye not as well say the best, As for to deme hem thus guiltlesse, In your hert iwis there is no gentilnesse, That of your own gilt list thus women fame, Now by my trouth, me think ye be too blame.

* For of women cometh this worldly wele, Wherfore we ouʒt to worship hem evermore, And though it mishap one, we ought for to hele, For it is all through our false lore, That day and night we paine vs evermore With many an oth, these women to beguile With false tales, and many a wicked wile.

* And if falshede should be reckened & told In women, iwis full trouth were, Not as in men, by a thousand fold, Fro all vices iwis they stand cleare, In any thing that I could of heare, But if enticing of these men it make, That hem to flatteren connen never slake.

* I would fain wete where euer ye coud here, Without mens tising, w^t women did amis,

Forther ye may get hem, ye lie fro yere to yere And many a gabbing ye make to hem iwis, For I could neuer heare, ne knowen ere this, Where euer ye coud find-in any place, That euer women besought you of grace.

There ye you pain, with all your ful might, With all your heart, and all your businesse, To pleasen hem both by day and night, Praying hem of her grace and gentilnesse, To haue pitie upon your great distresse, And y^t they wold on your paine haue routh, And slea you not, sens ye meane but trouth.

Thus may ye see that they ben faultlesse, And innocent to all your werkes slie, And all your crafts that touch falsenesse, They know hem not, ne may hem not espie, So sweare ye, that ye must needs die, But if they would of her womanhead Vpon you rew, ere that ye be dead.

And then your lady, and your herts queene Ye call hem, and therewith ye sighe sore, And say, my lady I trow that it be seene In what plite that I haue liued full yore, But now I hope that ye woll no more In these paines suffer me for to dwell, For all goodnesse twis ye be the well.

Lo which a painted processe can ye make, These harmlesse creatures for to beguile, And when they slepe, ye paine you to wake, And to bethinke you on many a wicked wile, But ye shall see the day that ye shal curse the while That ye so busily did your entent Hem to beguile, that falshed neuer ment.

For this ye know wel, though I would lie, In women is all trouth and stedfastnesse, For in good faith I neuer of hem sie But much worship, bountie, and gentilnesse, Right comming, faire, & full of mekenesse, Good and glad, and lowly I you ensure, Is this goodly angellike creature.

And if it hap a man be in disease, She doeth her businesse, and her full paine With al her might, him to comfort & please If fro his disease she might him restraine, In word ne deed ywis she woll not faine, But with all her might she doth her businesse To bring him out of his heauinesse.

Lo what gentillesse these women haue, If we could know it for our rudenesse, How busie they be us to keepe and saue, Both in heale, and also in sicknesse, And alway right sorrie for our distresse, In euery manner, thus shew they routh, That in hem is all goodnesse and trouth.

And sith we find in hem gentilnesse & trouth, Worship, bountie, and kindnesse euermore, Let neuer this gentillesse through your slouth In her kind trouth be aught forlore That in women is, and hath ben full yore, * For in reuerence of the heauens queene, We ought to worship all women y^t beene.

For of all creatures y^t euer wer get & borne, This wote ye well a woman was y^• best, By her was recouered y^• blisse y^• we had lorne, And through y^• woman shall we come to rest, And ben ysaued, if that our selfe lest, Wherefore me thinketh, if y^• we had grace, We oughten honour women in every place.

Therefore I rede, that to our liues end, Fro this time forth, while y^t we haue space, That we haue trespaced, pursue to amend, Praying our Ladie well of all grace To bring us unto that blisful place, There as she & good women shal be in fere In heauen aboue, among the angels clere.

Explicit.