Swiche as the world may of us deme, That wimmen loven us for wood. Hit shal don us as moche good, And to our herte as moche availe To countrepeise ese and travaile, (660) 1750 As we had wonne hit with labour; For that is dere boght honour At regard of our grete ese. And yit thou most us more plese; Let us be holden eek, therto, 1755 Worthy, wyse, and gode also, And riche, and happy unto love. For goddes love, that sit above, Though we may not the body have Of wimmen, yet, so god yow save! (670) 1760 Let men glewe on us the name; Suffyceth that we han the fame.' 'I graunte,' quod she, 'by my trouthe! Now, Eolus, with-outen slouthe, Tak out thy trumpe of gold, let see, 1765 And blow as they han axed me, That every man wene hem at ese, Though they gon in ful badde lese.' This Eolus gan hit so blowe, That through the world hit was y-knowe. (680) 1770 Tho com the seventh route anoon, And fel on kneës everichoon, And seyde, 'Lady, graunte us sone The same thing, the same bone, That [ye] this nexte folk han doon.' 1775 'Fy on yow,' quod she, 'everichoon! Ye masty swyn, ye ydel wrecches, Ful of roten slowe tecches! What? false theves! wher ye wolde Be famous good, and no-thing nolde (690) 1780 Deserve why, ne never roughte? Men rather yow to-hangen oughte! For ye be lyk the sweynte cat, That wolde have fish; but wostow what? He wolde no-thing wete his clowes. 1785 Yvel thrift come on your Iowes, And eek on myn, if I hit graunte, Or do yow favour, yow to avaunte! Thou Eolus, thou king of Trace! Go, blow this folk a sory grace,' (700) 1790 Quod she, 'anoon; and wostow how? As I shal telle thee right now; Sey: "These ben they that wolde honour Have, and do noskinnes labour, Ne do no good, and yit han laude; 1795 And that men wende that bele Isaude Ne coude hem noght of love werne; And yit she that grint at a querne Is al to good to ese hir herte."' This Eolus anon up sterte, (710) 1800 And with his blakke clarioun He gan to blasen out a soun, As loude as belweth wind in helle. And eek therwith, [the] sooth to telle, This soun was [al] so ful of Iapes, 1805 As ever mowes were in apes. And that wente al the world aboute, That every wight gan on hem shoute, And for to laughe as they were wode; Such game fonde they in hir hode. (720) 1810 Tho com another companye, That had y-doon the traiterye, The harm, the gretest wikkednesse That any herte couthe gesse;