That made me that I coude nat withdraw
My chambre of Venus from a good felaw.
Yet have I Martes merke upon my face,
And also in another privee place.
For God so wisly be my salvation,
I loved never by no discretion,
But ever folwed min appetit,

All were he shorte, longe, blake, or white,
I toke no kepe, so that he liked me,
How poure he was, ne eke of what degree.
What shuld I saye? but at the monthes ende
This joly clerk Jankin, that was so hende,
Hath wedded me with gret solempnitee,
And to him yave I all the lond and fee,
That ever was me yeven therbefore:
But afterward repented me ful sore.
He n'olde suffre nothing of my list.
By God he smote me ones with his fist,
For that I rent out of his book a lefe,
That of the stroke myn ere wex al defe.
Stibborne I was, as is a leonesse,
And of my tonge a veray jangleresse,
And walke I wold, as I had don beforn,
Fro hous to hous, although he had it sworn:
For which he oftentimes wolde preche,
And me of olde Romaine gestes teche.
How he Sulpitius Gallus left his wif,
And hire forsoke for terme of all his lif,
Not but for open-heded he hire say
Loking out at his dore upon a day.

Another Romaine told he me by name,
That, for his wif was at a sommer game
Without his weting, he forsoke hire eke.

And than wold he upon his Bible seke

That ilke proverbe of Ecelesiaste,

Wher he commandeth, and forbedeth faste,
Man shal not suffer his wif go roule aboute.

Than wold he say right thus withouten doute:
Who so that bildeth his hous all of salwes,
And pricketh his blind hors over the falwes,
And suffereth his wif to go seken halwes,
Is worthy to be honged on the galwes.
But all for nought, I sette not an hawe
Of his proverbes, ne of his olde sawe;
Ne I wold not of him corrected be.
'I hate hem that my vices tellen me,
And so do mo of us (God wote) than I.
This made him wood with me all utterly;
I n'olde not forbere him in no cas.

Now wol I say you soth by Seint Thomas,
Why that I rent out of his book a lefe,
For which he smote me, so that I was defe.
He had a book, that gladly night and day
For his disport he wolde it rede alway,
He cleped it Valerie, and Theophrast,

And with that book he lough alway ful fast.
And eke ther was a clerk somtime at Rome,
A cardinal, that highte Seint Jerome,
That made a book again Jovinian,

Which book was ther, and eke Tertullian,
Crisippus, Trotula, and Helowis,

That was abbesse not fer fro Paris;
And eke the paraboles of Salomon,
Ovides art, and bourdes many on;
And alle thise were bonden in o volume.
And every night and day was his custume
(Whan he had leiser and vacation

From other worldly occupation)

To reden in this book of wikked wives.
He knew of hem mo legendes and mo lives,
Than ben of goode wives in the Bible.

For trusteth wel, it is an impossible, That any clerk wol speken good of wives, (But if it be of holy seintes lives)

Ne of non other woman never the mo.
Who peinted the leon, telleth me, who?
By God, if wimmen hadden written stories,
As clerkes han, within hir oratories,

They wold have writ of men more wikkednesse,
Than all the merke of Adam may
redresse.
The children of Mercury and of Venus
Ben in hir werking ful contrarious.
Mercury loveth wisdom and science,
And Venus loveth riot and dispence.
And for hir divers disposition,
Eche falleth in others exaltation.
As thus, God wote, Mercury is desolat
In Pisces, wher Venus is exaltat,

And Venus falleth wher Mercury is reised.
Therfore no woman of no clerk is preised.
The clerk whan he is old, and may nought do
Of Venus werkes not worth his old sho,
Than siteth he doun, and writeth in his dotage,
That wimmen cannot kepe hir mariage.

But now to purpos, why I tolde thee,
That I was beten for a book parde.

Upon a night Jankin, that was our sire,
Red on his book, as he sate by the fire,
Of Eva first, that for hire wikkednesse
Was all mankinde brought to wretchednesse,
For which that Jesu Crist himself was slain,
That bought us with his herte-blood again.

Lo here expresse of wimmen may ye find, That woman was the losse of all mankind.

Tho redde he me how Sampson lost his heres Sleping, his lemman kitte hem with hire sheres, Thurgh whiche treson lost he both his eyen.

Tho redde he me, if that I shal not lien,
Of Hercules, and of his Deianire,
That caused him to set himself a-fire.

Nothing forgat he the care and the wo,
That Socrates had with his wives two;
How Xantippa cast pisse upon his hed.
This sely man sat still, as he were ded,
He wiped his hed, no more dorst he sain,
But, er the thonder stint ther cometh rain.

Of Pasiphae, that was the quene of Crete, For shrewednesse him thought the tale swete. Fie, speke no more (it is a grisely thing) Of hire horrible lust and hire liking. Of Clitemnestra for hire lecherie That falsely made hire husbond for to die, He redde it with ful good devotion. He told me eke, for what occasion Amphiorax at Thebes lost his lif: My husbond had a legend of his wif Eriphile, that for an ouche of gold Hath prively unto the Grekes told, Wher that hire husbond hidde him in a place, For which he had at Thebes sory grace. Of Lima told he me, and of Lucie: They bothe made hir husbondes for to die, That on for love, that other was for hate. Lima hire husbond on an even late Empoysoned hath, for that she was his fo: Lucia likerous loved hire husbond so,

That for he shuld alway upon hire thinke,
She yave him swiche a maner love-drinke,
That he was ded er it were by the morwe:
And thus algates husbondes hadden sorwe.
Than told he me, how on Latumeus
Complained to his felaw Arius,

That in his gardin growed swiche a tree,
On which he said how that his wives three
Honged hemself for hertes despitous.
O leve brother, quod this Arius,
Yeve me a plant of thilke blessed tree,
And in my gardin planted shal it be.

Of later date of wives hath he redde,
That som han slain hir husbonds in hir bedde,
And let hir lechour dight hem all the night,
While that the corps lay in the flore upright:
And som han driven nailes in hir brain,

While that they slepe, and thus they han hem slain:

Som han hem yeven poyson in hir drink:
He spake more harm than herte may bethinke.
And therwithall he knew of mo proverbes,
Than in this world their growen grass or herbes.
Bet is (quod he) thin habitation

Be with a leon, or a foule dragon,

Than with a woman using for to chide.

Bet is (quod he) high in the roof abide, Than with an angry woman doun in the hous, They ben so wikked and contrarious: They haten, that hir husbonds loven ay.

He sayd, a woman cast hire shame away, Whan she cast of hire smock; and forthermo, A faire woman, but she be chast also,