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Thou seyst, som folk desiren us for richesse, |
| Somme for oure shape, and somme for oure fairnesse, |
| 265 | And som for she kan outher synge or daunce, |
| And som for gentillesse and daliaunce, |
| Som for hir handes and hir armes smale; |
| Thus goth al to the devel by thy tale. |
| Thou seyst, men may nat kepe a castel wal, |
| 270 | It may so longe assailled been overal. |
| And if that she be foul, thou seist that she |
| Coveiteth every man that she may se; |
| For as a spaynel she wol on hym lepe |
| Til that she fynde som man hir to chepe; |
| 275 | Ne noon so grey goos gooth ther in the lake |
| As, seistow, wol been withoute make; |
| And seyst, it is an hard thyng for to welde |
| A thyng that no man wole, his thankes, helde. |
| Thus seistow, lorel, whan thow goost to bedde, |
| 280 | And that no wys man nedeth for to wedde, |
| Ne no man that entendeth unto hevene - |
| With wilde thonder-dynt and firy levene |
| Moote thy welked nekke be tobroke! |
| Thow seyst that droppyng houses, and eek smoke, |
| 285 | And chidyng wyves maken men to flee |
| Out of hir owene hous, a! benedicitee! |
| What eyleth swich an old man for to chide? |
| Thow seyst, we wyves wol oure vices hide |
| Til we be fast, and thanne we wol hem shewe, - |
| 290 | Wel may that be a proverbe of a shrewe! |
|
| You say, some men desire us for our gold, |
| Some for our shape and some for fairness told: |
| 265 | And some, that she can either sing or dance, |
| And some, for courtesy and dalliance; |
| Some for her hands and for her arms so small; |
| Thus all goes to the devil in your tale. |
| You say men cannot keep a castle wall |
| 270 | That's long assailed on all sides, and by all. |
| And if that she be foul, you say that she |
| Hankers for every man that she may see; |
| For like a spaniel will she leap on him |
| Until she finds a man to be victim; |
| 275 | And not a grey goose swims there in the lake |
| But finds a gander willing her to take. |
| You say, it is a hard thing to enfold |
| Her whom no man will in his own arms hold. |
| This say you, worthless, when you go to bed; |
| 280 | And that no wise man needs thus to be wed, |
| No, nor a man that hearkens unto heaven. |
| With furious thunder-claps and fiery levin |
| May your thin, withered, wrinkled neck be broke: |
| You say that dripping eaves, and also smoke, |
| 285 | And wives contentious, will make men to flee |
| Out of their houses; ah, benedicite! |
| What ails such an old fellow so to chide? |
| You say that all we wives our vices hide |
| Till we are married, then we show them well; |
| 290 | That is a scoundrel's proverb, let me tell! |
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