Of the frankelyn that wold haue had the frere gone. xxxii.

¶ A ryche fraynklyn dwellyn in the countie of * * * had a frere in his house, of whom he could neuer be ryd any meanes, but he wold tarrye by the space of a senyght[65] and wold neuer depart; wherfore the franklyn was sore grevud and sadly wery of hym. On a tyme as he and hys wyfe and this frere were togydder, he faynyd hymselfe very angry wyth hys wyfe, in somoche that he smote her. Thys frere perseyuyng well what they ment sayd * * * I haue bene here this seuenyght whan ye were frendys, and I will tarrye a fortenyght lenger but I wyll se you frendys agayne, or I depart. The franklyn, perceyuynge that he coude no good nor wold not depart by none other meanes, answeryd hym shortely and sayd: by God! frere, but thou shalt abyde here no longer; and toke hym by the shulders, and thrust hym out of the dorys of the house.

By this ye may se, that he that wyl lerne no good by examples in a maner to hym shewyd, is worthy to be taught wyth open rebuke.

Of the prest that sayd Our Lady was not so curyous a woman. xxxiii.

¶ In the towne of Bottelley dwellyd a mylner, whiche had a good homely wenche to his doughter, whome the curate of the nexte towne louyd, and, as the fame went, had her at hys pleasure. But on a tyme thys curat prechyd of those curyouse wyues now a dayes, and whether it were for the nonys,[66] or whether it cam oute at all aduenturys, he had penyd to say thus in hys sermon: ye wyues, ye be so curyous in all your warkes, that ye wot not what ye meane, but ye shold folow Oure Lady. For Our Lady was nothynge so curyous as ye be; but she was a good homely wenche lyke the mylners doughter of Botteley. At whych sayng all the parishons made gret laughyng, and specyally they that knew that he louyd that same wenche.

By this ye may se, it is gret foly for a man that is suspectyd with any person to praise or to name the same parson openly, lest it bryng hym in forther sclaunder.

Of the good man that sayde to his wyfe he had euyll fare. xxxiv.

¶ A frere Lymytour[67] come into a pore mannys howse in the countrey, and because thys pore man thought thys frere myght do hym some good, he therefore thought to make hym good chere. But bycause hys wyfe wold dresse hym no good mete for coste, he therfore at dyner tyme sayd thus: by God! wyfe, bycause thou dyddest dresse me no good mete to my dyner, were it not for mayster frere, thou shouldest haue halfe a dosyn strypes. Nay, syr, quod the frere, I pray you spare not for me; wherwyth the wyfe was angry, and therfore at souper she caused them to fare wors.