_Johan._ I chafe the wax-- [_Aside._] And I chafe it so hard that my fyngers krakks; And eke the smoke puttyth out my eyes two: I burne my face, and ray my clothys also, B iii 510 And yet I dare not say one word, And they syt laughyng yender at the bord. _Tyb._ Now, by my trouth, it is a prety jape, For a wyfe to make her husband her ape. Loke of Jhan Jhan, which maketh hard shyft 515 To chafe the wax, to stop therwith the clyft. _Johan_ [_aside_]. Ye, that a vengeance take ye both two, Both hym and the, and the and hym also; And that ye may choke with the same mete At the furst mursell that ye do ete. 520 _Tyb._ Of what thyng now dost thou clatter, Jhan Jhan? or whereof dost thou patter? _Johan._ I chafe the wax, and make hard shyft To stopt her-with of the payll the ryft. _Syr J._ So must he do, Jhan Jhan, by my father kyn, 525 That is bound of wedlok in the yoke. _Johan_ [_aside_]. Loke how the pyld preest crammyth in; That wold to God he myght therwith choke. _Tyb._ Now, Master Parson, pleasyth your goodnes To tell us some tale of myrth or sadnes, 530 For our pastyme, in way of communycacyon. _Syr J._ I am content to do it for our recreacyon, And of iii myracles I shall to you say. _Johan._ What, must I chafe the wax all day, And stond here, rostyng by the fyre? 535 _Syr J._ Thou must do somwhat at thy wyves desyre! I know a man whych weddyd had a wyfe, As fayre a woman as ever bare lyfe, And within a senyght after, ryght sone He went beyond se, and left her alone, 540 And taryed there about a vii yere; And as he cam homeward he had a hevy chere, For it was told hym that she was in heven. But, when that he comen home agayn was, He found his wyfe, and with her chyldren seven, 545 Whiche she had had in the mene space; Yet had she not had so many by thre Yf she had not had the help of me. Is not this a myracle, yf ever were any, That this good wyfe shuld have chyldren so many 550 Here in this town, whyle her husband shuld be Beyond the se, in a farre contre. _Johan._ Now, in good soth, this is a wonderous myracle, But for your labour, I wolde that your tacle B iii _b_ Were in a skaldyng water well sod. 555 _Tyb._ Peace, I say, thou lettest the worde of God.