“Ay,” saith she, and combed away.
“And,” said I, “with what excuse came he?”
“Excuse?” quoth she. “Marry, I heard none at all.”
“None!” I cried, tarrying in the doffing of my subtunic. “Were you not ill angered to behold such a traitor?”
“Dame Cicely,” saith she, slowly pulling the loose hairs forth of the comb, “if you would take pattern by me, and leave troubling yourself touching your neighbours’ doings, you should have fewer griefs to mourn over.”
Could the left sleeve of my subtunic, which I was then a-doffing, have spoke unto me, I am secure he should have ’plained that he met with full rough treatment at my hands.
“Good for you, Dame, an’ you so can!” said I somewhat of a heat. “So long as my neighbours do well, I desire not to mell (meddle) nor make in their matters. But if they do ill—”
“Why, then do I desire it even less,” saith she, “for I were more like to get me into a muddle. Mine own troubles be enough for me, and full too many.”
“Dear heart! had you ever any?” quoth I.
“In very deed, I do ensure you,” saith she, “for this comb hath one of his teeth split, and he doth not only tangle mine hair, but giveth me vile wrenches betimes, when I look not for them. And ’tis but a month gone, at Betesi (Béthizy), that I paid half-a-crown for him. The rogue cheated me, as my name is Bess. I could find in mine heart to give him a talking.”