“Well, daughter of Eva?” Father makes answer.
“Casting the blame on the women,” saith she. “Right so did Adam, and all his sons have trod of his steps.”
“I thought she deserved it,” saith Father.
“She deserved it a deal less than he!” quoth Aunt Joyce, in an heat. “He sinned with his eyes open, and she was deceived of the serpent.”
“Look you, she blamed the serpent, belike,” saith Sir Robert, laughing.
“I take it, she was an epitome in little of all future women, as Adam of all men to come,” saith Father. “But, Joyce, methinks Paul scarce beareth thee out.”
“I have heard folks to say Paul was not a woman’s friend,” saith Sir Robert.
“That’s not true,” quoth Aunt Joyce.
“Why, how so, my mistress?” Sir Robert makes merry answer. “He bade them keep silence in the churches, and be subject to the men, and not to teach: was that over courteous, think you?”
“Call me a Frenchman, if I stand that!” crieth Aunt Joyce. “Sir Robert Stafford, be so good as listen to me.”