"Mine husband is not at home, he is went
Forth in his journey, a farre way hence,
A bagge with money be hath with him hent,
As him thought needfull for his expence,
Unto my word giue faith and credence,
Now is the Moone yong, and of light dull,
Ere he come home, it woll be at the full."

Thus craftely hath she him besette
With her lime roddes, panter, and snare,
The selie soule caught in her nette,
Of her sugred mouth alas nothing ware,
Thus is he left gracelesse and bare
Of helpe, comfort, and ghostly succour,
And furthermore, as saith mine authour.

As a beast led to his death, doth pant,
This yong man followeth her in that stound,
And as a wanton lambe full ignorant,
How he is pulled and drawen to be bound,
Unto the time he hath his deaths wound,
And like a bird that hasteth to the grin,
Not knowing the perill of his life therein.

"Now gentle sonne," saith Salomon, "take hede
My words in thy breast keepe and make fast,
Let her not thy mind in her waies mislede,
Be not deceiued, lese not thy tast,
Many hath she wounded, many doune cast,
Many strong by her hath lost their breath,
Her waies, waies of hell leading to death."

And in this little narration precedent,
The womans manifold gilt I attend,
The yong man alas how she hath shent,
Deceiued her husband, her own next friend,
In these both, her God she doth offend,
To break her spousail, to her is of no weight.
Furdermore to shew womans craft and sleight;

A woman at her dore sate on a stall,
To see folke passe by streets of the cite,
With eye and countenance eke she gan call,
"If there be any prety one come nere to me,
Come hither ye piggesnye, ye little babe,"
At last she said to a yong man hertelesse,
Of her deceit vnware and defencelesse:

"Much sweeter" she saith, "more acceptable
Is drinke, whan it is stollen priuely,
Than whan it is taken in forme auowable:
Bread hid and gotten jeoperdously,
Must needs be sweet, and semblably,
Uenison stolne is aye the sweeter,

The ferther the narrower fet the better."

And whom this woman (saith Salomon) festes,
The yong man woteth not whom she doth fede,
Of the dark deepnesse of hell ben her ghests,
Beware yong man therefore I thee rede,
And how be it cheefly for thy good spede,
This werk to compile I haue take in charge,
I must of pity my charity enlarge.

With the selie man which is thus begiled,
Her husband I mean, I woll wepe and waile
His painfull infortune, whereby reuiled
Causelesse he is, neuer to conuaile,
Euery man yong and old woll him assaile
With words of occasion, with the loth name,
And alas good soule, he nothing to blame.

But she that coud so ill do and wold,
Hers be the blame for her demerite,
And leaue that opprobrous name cokold,
To a proper to him as in dispite,
Ransake yet we would if we might,
Of this worde the true ortographie,
The very discent and ethimologie.

The well and ground of the first inuencion,
To know the ortographie we must deriue,
Which is coke and cold, in composicion,
By reason, as nigh as I can contriue,
Than how it is written we know beliue,
But yet lo, by what reason and ground,
Was it of these two wordes compound.

As of one cause to giue very judgement,
Themilogie let vs first behold:
Eche letter an hole word doth represent,
As C, put for colde, and O, for 'old,
K, is for knaue, thus diuers men hold,
The first parte of this name we haue found,
Let vs ethimologise the second.

As the first finder ment I am sure,
C, for calot, for of, we haue O,
L, for leude, D, for demeanure,
The craft of the enuentour ye may see lo,
How one name signifieth persones two,
A colde old knaue, cokold himselfe wening,
And eke a calot of leude demeaning.

The second cause of thimposicion,
Of this foresaid name of jelousie,
To be jelouse is greatest occasion
To be cokold, that men can aspie,
And though the passion be very firie,
And of continuell feruence and heete,
The pacient aye suffreth cold on his feete.
And who that is jelous, and aye in a drede,
Is full of melancolie and gallie ire,
His wiues nose (if she misse trede,)
He woll cut off, ye and conspire
His death who that woll her desire:
Which she perceiuing brasteth his gall,
And anone his great woodnesse doth fall.

As soone as she hath knit him that knot,
Now is he tame that was so rámagious,
Mekely sitteth he doune and taketh his lot,
Layed been now his lookes so furious,
And he but late as a cocke bataylous,
Hote in his quarell, to auenge him bold,
Now is he called both coke and cold.

This saying, to all curtesie dissonant,
Which seemeth that it of malice grewe,
In this rude treatise I woll not plant,
As parcell thereof, but onely to shewe,
The opinion of the talcatife shrewe,
Which in ill saying is euer merie,
No man as I thereof so werie.

But I as parcell of this my booke,
Woll graffe in some sad counsaile whereby,
The wedded man, if he daigne looke
In it, the better shall mowe him gie,
And prouide for his said infortunie,
Which as I haue said, with him complaine
I woll, as partener of his great paine.

As most expedient to his weale,
I would all jelousie were abject,
If he be jelous, that he it conceale,
And in his labour be circumspect,
To know her wayes if they seeme suspect,
-And not for to breake, for one word broken,
She woll not misse but she woll be wroken.

Forbid her not, that thou noldest haue don,
For looke what thing she is forbod,
To that of all things she is most prone,
Namely if it be ill and no good,
Till it be executed she nigh wood,
Soch is a woman, and soch is her feat,
Her craft by craft, labour to defeat.

If thou hereafter, now a single man,
Shouldest be jelous if thou haddest a wife,
Wedde not but if thou can trust woman,
For els shouldest lede a carefull life,
That thou most lothest should be full rife,
Yet I nill gainesay inatrimonie,
But Melius est nubere quam uri.

That is to say, better is in wedlocke,
A wife to take, as the church doth kenne,
Than to been vnder the fleshes yoke,
In fleshly lust alway for to brenne,
But as I said, for all jelous menne,
So they liue chaste, I hold it lasse ill,
That they wedde not, than them self spill.

The single man which is yet to wedde,
And not the wedded man, thus I rede,
To warne him now he is too farre spedde,
It is too late him to forbedde,

But let him take as for his owne need,
Soch counsaile as is him before told,
These words folowing eke to behold.

Thy water to keep the wiseman doth teach,
That thou in no wise let it haue issue,
At a narow rifte, way it woll seach,
And semblably the woman vntrue,
To giue her free walke in al wise eschue,
If she at large, not at thine hand walke,
She woll thee shame, thou shalt it not balke.

Wedded or single, thus saith the wiseman,
Her that both day and night euermore,
Lithe in thy bosome, wife or yet lemman,
Lone not to hote, least thou repent sore,
Least she thee bring into some ill lore,
Thy wife not to loue yet I nill support,
But that thou dote not, thus I thee exhort.

Lo if thou loue her, loue eke thine honestie,
Be she not idell, for what woll betide,
If she sit idell, of very necessitie,

Her mind woll search ferre and eke wide,
Namely if she be not accompanide,

How accompanied, not with yong men,

But with maidens I meane or women.

Maiden seruants be right conuenient,
In house to helpe to dooe her seruice,
In whom she may vse her commaundement,
In the season at her owne deuice:

To teach hem good, yeue her thine aduice,
To make them huswiues, thus businesse
May yet refraine her from idlenesse.

But bide not her that thou wolt haue do,
Of thine entent that might be letting,
But craftely encourage her thereto
By other meanes, as by commending,
And not too moch, but duely menging
Both praise and blame, and in thy reason
First praise wisely the place and season.

Of faithfull will, and herte full tender,
One thing I call into remembrance
Again which, though my wit be slender,
After my power and suffisaunce,

1 purpose to make a purueyaunce,
Sith women of nature been vnchaungeable,
Freale, not ware, also disceiuable.

Be it that thy wife be excellently good,
That none be better of disposicion,

In processe of time she might turn her mood,
By some misse liuers instigacion,
Diuers men to thilke occupacion,
Aplien daily, minde and eke herte,
From hir goodnesse women to peruert.

If thou aspie any suspect person,
Draw to thy wife, beware in all wise
To him nor her of thy suspeccion

Breake not one worde, though thine herte agrise,
Kindle no fire, no smoke woll arise,
Though he be of a corrupt entent,
She perauenture is not of assent.

EXPLICIT.

THE LETTER OF CUPID.

This letter was made by Thomas Occleve of the office of the privy seale, Chaucer's scholar; and was by him termed, A Treatise of the Conversation of Men and Women in the little Island of Albion; which got him such hatred among the gentlewomen of the court, that he was inforced to recant in that book of his, called Planctus proprius.

CUPID, vnto whose commaundement,
The gentill kinrede of goddes on hie,
And people infernal been obedient,
And all mortall folke seruen busely,
Of the goddesse sonne Cythera onely,
To all tho that to our deite,
Been subjects, hertely greeting send we.

In general we woll that ye know,
That ladies of honour and of reuerence,
And other gentilwomen hauen sowe
Soch seed of complaint in our audience,
Of men that do hem outrage and offence,
That it our cares grieueth for to here,
So pitous is theffect of this matere,

Passing all londes, on the litell yle
That cleped is Albion, they most complaine,
They say that there is crop and rote of guile,
So con tho men dissimule and faine,
With standing dropes in hir eyen twaine,
Whan that hertes feeleth no distresse,
To blindeu women with hir doublenesse,

Hir wordes spoken be so sighingly,
With so pitous chere and counteĥaunce,
That euery wight that meaneth trewly,
Deemeth they in herte haue such grenaunce,
They say so importable is hir penaunce,
That but hir lady lust to shew hem grace,
They right anone must steruen in the place.

"Ah lady mine," they say, "I you ensure,
As doth me grace, and I shall euer be
(While that my life may last and endure)
To you as humble and low in ech degre,
As possible is, and keep all things as secre,
Right as your selfe list that I do,

And els mine berte mote brast in two."

Ful hard it is to know a mans herte,
For outward may no man the trouth deme,
Whan word out of mouth may none sterte,
But it by reson semed euery wight to queme,
So it is said of herte as it would seme,
O faithful woman full of innocence,
Thou art disceiued by false apparence.
By processe moueth oft womans pite,
Wening all thing were as these men sey,
They graunt hem grace of hir benignite,
For that men should not for hir sake dey,
Aud with good herte sette hem in the wey
Of blisfull loue, keepe it if they conne,
And thus otherwhile women bethe ywonne.

And whan this man the pan hath by the stele,
And fully is in his possessioun,

With that woman keepeth he no more to dele,
After if he may finde in the toun
Any woman his blind affectioun
Unto bestow, yuel mote he preue,

A man for all his othes is hard to beleeue.

And for that every false man hath a make,
As unto euery wight is light to know,
Whan this traitour this woman hath forsake,
He fast spedeth him unto his felow,
Til he be there his herte is on a low,
His false disceit may him not suffise,
But of his traison telleth all the wise.

Is this a faire auaunt, is this honour,
A man himself accuse thus and diffame,
Is it good to confesse himself a traitour?
And bring a woman to sclandrous name,
And tell how he her body hath do shame ?
No worship may he thus to him conquer,
But great disclaunder vnto him and her.

To her nay, yet was it no reprefe,
For all for vertue was that she wrought,
But he that brewed hath all this mischefe,
That spake so faire, and fasly inward thought,
His be the sclaunder, as it by reson ought,
And vnto her thanke perpetuell,
That in soch a need help can so well.
Although through mens sleight and subtilty,
A sely simple and innocent woman
Betraied is, no wonder sith the city
Of Troy, as the storie tell can,
Betrayed was through the disceit of man,
And set on fyre, and all downe ouerthrowe,
And finally destroied as men knowe.

Betray nat men cities great, and kings, What wight is it that can shape remedy Ayenst these falsely purposed things, Who can by crafte soch craftes espy But man, whose wit is ever redy taply To thing that sowning is to falshede? Women bethe ware of false men I rede.

And farthermore have these men in vsage,
That where they nat likely been to speed,
Soch as they ben, with a double visage,
They procuren for to pursewe hir need,
He prayeth him in his cause to proceed,
And largely guerdoneth he his travaile,
Litel wote women how men hem assaile.

Another wretch vnto his felow saith,
"Thou fishest faire, she that thee hath fired
Is false inconstaunt, and hath no faith,
She for the rode of folke is so desired,
And as an horse fro day to day she is hired,
That whan thou twinnest fro her company,
Commeth another, and blered is thine eye.

"Now pricke on fast, and ride thy journey
While thou art there, for she behind thy back
So liberall is, she woll nothing withsey,
But smattly of another take a smack,
Thus fare these women all the pack,
Who so hem trusteth hanged mote he bee,
Ever they desire chaunge and nolveltee."
Whereof proceedeth this, but of envy?
For he himselfe her ne winne may,
He speaketh her reprefe and villany,
As mans blabbing tonge is wont alway,
Thus divers men full oft make assay
For to distourbe folke in sondry wise,
For they may not obtaine hir emprise.

Many one eke would for no good,
That hath in love his time spent and vsed,
Men wish that his lady his asking withstood,
Ere that he were of her plainly refused,
Or waste and vaine all that he had mused,
Wherefore he can none other remedy,
But on his lady shapeth him to ly.
"Every woman" he saith "is light to gete,
Can none say nay, if she be well ysought,
Who so may leiser have with her to trete,
Of his purpose shall he fayle nought,
But he on madnesse be so depe brought,
That he shende all with open homelynesse,
That loven women, they doten as I gesse."

To slander women thus what may profite,
To gentillesse namely, that hem arme should
In defence of women, and hem delite,
As that the ordre of gentillesse wold,
If that a man list gentill to be hold,
He must all eschewe that thereto is contrary,
A sclaundrous tonge is his great adversary.

A foule vice is, of tonge to be light,
For who so moch clapeth gabbeth oft,
The tonge of man so swift is and so wight,
That whan it is reised vp on loft,
Reason is shewed so slowly and soft
That it him never ouertake may,
Lord so these men been trusty in assay.

Men beare eke women vpon hond,
That lightly and without any paine,
They wonen be, they can no wight withstond,
That his disease list to hem complaine,
They be so freele, they may hem not refraine,
But who so liketh hem, may lightly haue,
So be hir hertes easie into graue.

To maister Iohan de Moone, as I suppose
Than it was a leude occupacioun,
In making of the Romante of the rose,
So many a sigh imaginacioun,

And perilles for to rollen vp and doun,
The long processe, so many a slight cautell,
For to disceiue a sely damosell.

Nought can I say, ne my wit comprehend,
That art, pain, and subtilty should faile,
For to conquere, and sone make an end;
Whan men a feble place shall assaile,
And sone also to vanquish a battaile,
Of which no wight may make resistence,
Ne herte hath none to make any defence,

Than mote folow of necessitee,

Sith art asketh so great engine and paine,
A woman to disceiue what so she bee,
Of constaunce be they not so baraine,
As that some of these clarkes saine,
But they be as women ought to bee,
Sadde, constant, and fulfilled of pitee.

How frendly was Medea to Tason,
In conquering of the flece of gold,
How falsly quit he her true affection,
By whom victory he gate as he wold,
How may this man for shame be so bold
To falsen her, that fro his death and shame,

Him kept, and gate him so great prise and name.

Of Troy also the traitour Eneas,

The faithlesse wretch, how he him forswore
To Dido, that queene of Cartage was,
That him releued of his smertes sore,
What gentillesse might she haue do more,
Than she with herte vnfained to him kidde,
And what mischef to her therof after betidde.

In my legend of natures may men find,
Who so liketh therein for to rede,
That othe ne behest may man bind,
Of reprouable shame haue they no drede,
In mannes herte trouth hath no stede,

The soile is naught, there may no trouth grow,
To woman namely it is not vnknow.

Clerkes saine also there is no malice,
Unto womans wicked crabbidnesse,
O woman, how shalt thou thy self cheuice,
Sith men of thee soch harme witnesse,
Beth ware women of hir fikelnesse,
Kepe thine owne, what men clappe or crake,
And some of hem shall smart I vndertake.

Malice of women what is it to drede,
They slea no man, distroy no citees,
Ne oppresse folke, ne ouerlede,
Betray empires, realmes, or duchees,
Ne bireuen men hir lands ne bir mees,
Enpoison folke, ne houses set on fire,
Ne false contracts make for no hire.
YOL. I.

Trust, parfite loue, entire charitee,
Feruent will, and entalented corage,
All thewes good, as sitteth well to bee,
Haue women euer of custome and vsage,.
And well they conne mans ire asswage,
With soft words, discrete and benigne,

What they be inward, they shew outward by signe.
Womans herte vnto no cruelty
Enclined is, but they be charitable,
Pitous, deuoute, full of humility,
Shamefast, debonaire, and amiable,
Dredefull, and of wordes measurable,
What women these haue not parauenture,
Followeth not the way of hir nature.

Men saine our first mother nathelesse
Made all mankind lese his libertee,
And naked it of joy doubtlesse,
For Goddes heste disobeyed she,
Whan she presumed to taste of the tree
That God forbad that she eate therof should,
And ne had the Deuill be, no more she would.

The enuious swelling, that the fend our foe,
Had vnto man in herte for his wealth,
Sent a serpent, and made her for to goe
To diceiue Eue: and thus was mans wealth
Birafte him by the fende in a stealth,
The woman not knowing of that disceipt,
God wote full ferre was it from her conceipt.

Wherfore I say, this good woman Eue,
Our father Adam disceined nought,
There may no man for disceipt it preue,
Properly, but that she in herte and thought,
Had it compassed first or she it wrought,
And for soch was not ber impression,
Men may it call no disceipt of her, by reason.

Ne no wight disceiueth, but he purpose
The fend this disceipt cast, and nothing she:
Than is it wrong to deeme or suppose,
That of his harme she should the cause be,
Wyte the fende and his be the maugre,
And excused haue her innocence,
Saue onely that she brake obedience.

And touching this, full fewe men there be,
Unnethes any dare I safely say,

Fro day to day, as men may all day see,
But that the heste of God they disobay,
Haue this in mind sirs I you pray,
If that ye be discrete and reasonable,
Ye woll her hold the more excusable.

And where men say, in man is stedfastnesse,
And woman is of her courage vnstable!
Who may of Adam beare soch a witnesse?
Telleth me this, was he not chaungeable?
They both weren in o case semblable,
Saue willing the fende disceiued Eue,
And so did she not Adam by your leue.

Yet was this sinne happy to mankind,
The fende disceiued was for all his sleight,
For aught he coud him in his sleights wind:
For his trespace, came fro Heauen on height.
God to discharge man of his weight,
Flesh and blood tooke of a virgine,
And suffred death, him to deliuer of pine.

Na