They bothe made their husbands for to die, That one for love, that other was for hate. Luna her husband on an ev’ning late Empoison’d had, for that she was his foe: Lucia liquorish lov’d her husband so, That, for he should always upon her think, She gave him such a manner* love-drink, *sort of That he was dead before it were the morrow: And thus algates* husbands hadde sorrow. *always Then told he me how one Latumeus Complained to his fellow Arius That in his garden growed such a tree, On which he said how that his wives three Hanged themselves for heart dispiteous. “O leve* brother,” quoth this Arius, *dear “Give me a plant of thilke* blessed tree, *that And in my garden planted shall it be.” Of later date of wives hath he read, That some have slain their husbands in their bed, And let their *lechour dight them* all the night, *lover ride them* While that the corpse lay on the floor upright: And some have driven nails into their brain, While that they slept, and thus they have them slain: Some have them given poison in their drink: He spake more harm than hearte may bethink. And therewithal he knew of more proverbs, Than in this world there groweth grass or herbs. “Better (quoth he) thine habitation Be with a lion, or a foul dragon, Than with a woman using for to chide. Better (quoth he) high in the roof abide, Than with an angry woman in the house, They be so wicked and contrarious: They hate that their husbands loven aye.” He said, “A woman cast her shame away When she cast off her smock;” and farthermo’, “A fair woman, but* she be chaste also, *except Is like a gold ring in a sowe’s nose. Who coulde ween,* or who coulde suppose *think The woe that in mine heart was, and the pine?* *pain And when I saw that he would never fine* *finish To readen on this cursed book all night, All suddenly three leaves have I plight* *plucked Out of his book, right as he read, and eke I with my fist so took him on the cheek, That in our fire he backward fell adown. And he up start, as doth a wood* lion, *furious And with his fist he smote me on the head, That on the floor I lay as I were dead. And when he saw how still that there I lay, He was aghast, and would have fled away, Till at the last out of my swoon I braid,* *woke “Oh, hast thou slain me, thou false thief?” I said “And for my land thus hast thou murder’d me? Ere I be dead, yet will I kisse thee.” And near he came, and kneeled fair adown, And saide”, “Deare sister Alisoun, As help me God, I shall thee never smite: That I have done it is thyself to wite,* *blame Forgive it me, and that I thee beseek.”* *beseech And yet eftsoons* I hit him on the cheek, *immediately; again