"Ey! Goddes mercy!" seyde oure Hooste tho, "Now swich a wyf I pray God kepe me fro! Lo, whiche sleightes and subtilitees In wommen been! for ay as bisy as bees Been they, us sely men for to deceyve, And from the soothe evere wol they weyve; By this Marchauntes tale it preveth weel. But doutelees, as trewe as any steel I have a wyf, though that she povre be, But of hir tonge a labbyng shrewe is she, And yet she hath an heep of vices mo; Therof no fors! lat alle swiche thynges go. But wyte ye what? In conseil be it seyd, Me reweth soore I am unto hire teyd. For, and I sholde rekenen every vice Which that she hath, ywis I were to nyce; And cause why, it sholde reported be And toold to hire of somme of this meynee, -- Of whom, it nedeth nat for to declare, Syn wommen konnen outen swich chaffare; And eek my wit suffiseth nat therto, To tellen al, wherfore my tale is do." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FUN HOUSE FABLE by KAREN SWENSON FUCHSIA HEDGES IN CONNACHT by PADRAIC COLUM SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: RUTHERFORD MCDOWELL by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE COMMON LOT by JAMES MONTGOMERY THE PROGRESS OF POETRY by JONATHAN SWIFT AN EARNEST SUIT [TO HIS UNKIND MISTRESS NOT TO FORESAKE HIM] by THOMAS WYATT |