Devant vos en vostre ostel;
Si ne m’avez riens donné,
Ne mes gages acquitez,
C’est vilanie.
Foi que doi sainte Marie,
Ensi ne vos sieurré-je mie.
M’aumosnière est mal garnie,
Et ma male mal farsie.
He proceeds to state that when he went home to his wife (for Colin Muset also was a married minstrel), he was ill received if his purse and wallet were empty; but it was very different when they were full. His wife then sprang forward and threw her arms round his neck; she took his wallet from his horse with alacrity, while his lad conducted the animal cheerfully to the stable, and his maiden killed a couple of capons, and prepared them with piquant sauce. His daughter brought a comb for his hair. “Then,” he exclaims, “I am master in my own house.”
Ma fame va destroser