+ There was an olde woman, the whiche bargayned with a surgean to heale her sore eyes; and whanne he hadde made her eies hole, and that she sawe better, she couenaunted that he shulde be payde his moneye, and not before. So he layde a medycyne to her eyes, that shulde not be taken awaye the space of v dayes, in whiche tyme she myghte nat loke vppe. Euery daye, whan he came to dresse her, he bare awaye some what of her householde stouffe, table clothes, candelstickes and disshes. He lefte no thinge, that he coulde carye clene. So whan her eies were hole, she loked vp, and sawe that her householde stouffe was caryede awaye. She sayde to the surgian, that came and required his money for his labour: syr, my promise was to pay you, whan ye made me se better than I did before. That is trouth, quod he. Mary, quod she, but I se worse nowe than I did. Before ye layde medicins to myn eies, I sawe moche fayre stouffe in myn house, and now I se nothinge at all. + _Of hym that had the custodi of a warde._ xc. + A certayn man, that had the custody of a ward and his goodes, and in shorte space had spente all awaye, was by the gouernour of the cite commanded to bring in his bookes of _Introitus et exitus_, that is to saye, of entraunce and layenge oute, and to gyue accompte of the orphlins[275] goodes. So whan he came, he shewed fyrste his mouthe, and sayde, here it wente in: and after he shewed vp his ****, and sayde: here hit wente out, and other bookes of _Introitus et exitus_ I haue none. + _Of the excellent paynter, that had foule children._ xci. + There was a peinter in Rome that was an excellent counnynge man, and bycause he had foule children, one sayde to him: by my feyth, I maruayle that you paynte so goodelye, and gette so foule chyldren. Yea, quod the peynter, I make my chyldren in the darke, and I peynte those fygures by daye lyght.[276] [275] See the new edition of Nares _in voce_. _Orphlin_ is merely a contraction of the French _orphelin_. [276] "A Skilfull Painter such rare pictures drew, That every man his workemanship admir'd: So neere the life in beautie, forme and hew, As if dead Art 'gainst Nature had conspir'd. Painter, sayes one, thy wife's a pretty woman, I muse such ill-shapt children thou hast got, Yet mak'st such pictures as their likes makes no man, I prethee tell the cause of this thy lot? Quoth he, I paint by day when it is light, And get my children in the darke at night."-- Taylor's _Sculler_, 1612 (Works, 1630, iii. 22). + _Of the scoffer that made a man a south sayer._ xcii.