Thou say’st, we wives will our vices hide, Till we be fast,* and then we will them shew. *wedded Well may that be a proverb of a shrew.* *ill-tempered wretch Thou say’st, that oxen, asses, horses, hounds, They be *assayed at diverse stounds,* *tested at various Basons and lavers, ere that men them buy, seasons Spoones, stooles, and all such husbandry, And so be pots, and clothes, and array,* *raiment But folk of wives make none assay, Till they be wedded, — olde dotard shrew! — And then, say’st thou, we will our vices shew. Thou say’st also, that it displeaseth me, But if * that thou wilt praise my beauty, *unless And but* thou pore alway upon my face, *unless And call me faire dame in every place; And but* thou make a feast on thilke** day *unless **that That I was born, and make me fresh and gay; And but thou do to my norice* honour, *nurse <12> And to my chamberere* within my bow’r, *chamber-maid And to my father’s folk, and mine allies;* *relations Thus sayest thou, old barrel full of lies. And yet also of our prentice Jenkin, For his crisp hair, shining as gold so fine, And for he squireth me both up and down, Yet hast thou caught a false suspicioun: I will him not, though thou wert dead to-morrow. But tell me this, why hidest thou, *with sorrow,* *sorrow on thee!* The keyes of thy chest away from me? It is my good* as well as thine, pardie. *property What, think’st to make an idiot of our dame? Now, by that lord that called is Saint Jame, Thou shalt not both, although that thou wert wood,* *furious Be master of my body, and my good,* *property The one thou shalt forego, maugre* thine eyen. *in spite of What helpeth it of me t’inquire and spyen? I trow thou wouldest lock me in thy chest. Thou shouldest say, ‘Fair wife, go where thee lest; Take your disport; I will believe no tales; I know you for a true wife, Dame Ales.’* *Alice We love no man, that taketh keep* or charge *care Where that we go; we will be at our large. Of alle men most blessed may he be, The wise astrologer Dan* Ptolemy, *Lord That saith this proverb in his Almagest:<13> ‘Of alle men his wisdom is highest, That recketh not who hath the world in hand. By this proverb thou shalt well understand, Have thou enough, what thar* thee reck or care *needs, behoves How merrily that other folkes fare? For certes, olde dotard, by your leave, Ye shall have [pleasure] <14> right enough at eve. He is too great a niggard that will werne* *forbid A man to light a candle at his lantern; He shall have never the less light, pardie.