Of the husbande that cryed ble under the bed. lxxiv.

¶ In London there was a certayne artifycer hauyng a fayre wife, to whom a lusty galante made pursute to accomplisshe his pleasure. This woman, denyeng, shewed the matter vnto her husband whiche, moued therewith, bad his wyfe to appoynte him a tyme to come secretly to lye with her all nyght, and with great crakes and othes sware that, agaynst his comyng, he wolde be redy harneysed and wolde put him in ieopardye of his lyfe, except he wolde make hym a great amendes. Thys nyght was then appoynted; at whiche tyme thys courtyer came at his houre, and entred in at the chamber, and set his two-hande sworde downe, and sayde these wordes: stande thou there, thou sworde, the dethe of thre men! This husbande lyenge vnder the bedde in harneys, herynge these wordes, lay still for fere. The courtyer anone gat him to bed with the wyfe about his prepensed busynesse; and within an houre or two the husbande, beynge wery of lyenge, beganne to remoue hym. The courtyer, that hearynge, asked the wyfe what thinge that was that remoued vnder the bedde; whiche, excusyng the matter, sayd it was a lytell shepe, that was wonte dayly to go about the house; and the husbande, that herynge, anone cryed ble, as it had ben a shepe. And so in conclusyon, whan the courtyer sawe his tyme, he rose and kissed the wyfe, and took his leaue and departed. And as sone as he was gone the husbande arose; and, whan the wyfe loked on him, somwhat abasshed began to make a sad countenance; and [she] sayde; alas! syr, why did you * *

The remainder of this tale is wanting.

By this tale ye may se, that he is not wyse that will put his confydence in bosters and great crakers, whiche ofte tymes wyll do but lytell, when it comes to the poynte.

Of the shomaker that asked the colyer what tydynges in hell.[119] lxxv.

¶ A souter[120] syttynge in his shope, that sawe a colyer come by, deryded hym, because he was so blacke, and asked hym, what newes from hell and howe the deuyll fared. To whome the colyer answeryd hym: he was well, whan I sawe hym laste; for he was rydynge and waited but for a souter to plucke on his botes.

By this ye may se that he that vseth to deryde other folkes is somtyme him selfe more deryded and mocked.