But of his grace god hath me preserved
By the wyse counseyle of these aungelles thre:
From hell gates they have my lyfe conserved
In tyme of warre, whan lovers lusty,
And bryght Phebus was fresshest unto se
In Gemynys, the lusty and glad season,
Whan to wedde caught fyrst occasyon.
My joye was sette in especyall
To have wedded one excellent in fayrnes,
And thrugh her beaute have made my selfe thrall
Under the yocke of everlastynge dystresse;
But god alonely of his high goodnes
Hath by an aungell, as ye have herde me tell,
Stopped my passage from that peryllous hell.
Amonge these aungelles, that were in nombre thre,
There appered one out of the southe,
Whiche spake fyrst of all the trynyte
All of one sentence, the mater is full couthe;
And he was called Johan with the golden mouthe,
Which concluded by sentence full notable,
Wyves of custome ben gladly varyable.
After this Johan, the story sayth also,
In confyrmacyon of theyr fragylyte,
How that Peter, called acorbylio,
Affermeth playnly, how that wyves be
Dyverse of herte, full of duplycyte,
Mayterfull, hasty, and eke proude,
Crabbed of langage whan they lyst crye aloude.
Who taketh a wyfe receyveth a great charge,
In whiche he is full lyke to have a fall:
With tempest tossed, as is a besy barge;
There he was fre he maketh hymselfe thrall.
Wyves of porte ben full imperyall,
Husbandes dare not theyr lustes gaynsaye,
But lovely please and mekely them obaye.
The husbandes ever abydeth in travayle;
One labour passed there cometh an other newe,
And every daye she begynneth a batayle,
And in complaynynge chaungeth chere and hewe.
Under suche falsnes she fayneth to be true;
She maketh hym rude as is a dull asse,
Out of whose daunger impossyble is to passe.
Thus wedlocke is an endlesse penaunce,
Husbandes knowe that have experyence,
A martyrdom and a contynuaunce
In sorowe everlastynge, a deedly vyolence;
And this of wyves is gladly the sentence
Upon theyr husbandes, whan they lyst to be bolde,
How they alone governeth the housholde.
And yf her husbande happen for to thryve,
She sayth it is her prudent purveyaunce:
If they go abacke ayenwarde and unthryve,
She sayth it is his mysgovernaunce.
He bereth the blame of all suche ordynaunce;
And yf they be poore and fall in dystresse,
She sayth it is his foly and lewdnesse.
And yf so be he be no werkman good,
It may well happe he shall have an horne,
A large bone to stuffe with his hood;
A mowe behynde, and fayned cheere beforne:
And yf it fall that theyr good be lorne
By aventure, eyther at even or morowe,
The sely husbande shall have all the sorowe.
An husbande hath greate cause to care
For wyfe, for chylde, for stuffe and meyne,
And yf ought lacke she wyll bothe swere and stare,
He is a wastour and shall never the:
And Salomon sayth there be thynges thre,
Shrewde wyves, rayne, and smokes blake
Make husbandes ofte theyr houses to forsake.