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Thou seyst, som folk desyre us for richesse, Somme for our shap, and somme for our fairnesse; And som, for she can outher singe or daunce, And som, for gentillesse and daliaunce; Som, for hir handes and hir armes smale; Thus goth al to the devel by thy tale. Thou seyst, men may nat kepe a castel-wal; It may so longe assailled been over-al. Thou seyst, som folk desyre us for richesse, Somme for our shap, and somme for our fairnesse; And som, for she can outher singe or daunce, And som, for gentillesse and daliaunce; Som, for hir handes and hir armes smale; Thus goth al to the devel by thy tale. Thou seyst, men may nat kepe a castel-wal; It may so longe assailled been over-al.
And if that she be foul, thou seist that she Coveiteth every man that she may se; For as a spaynel she wol on him lepe, Til that she finde som man hir to chepe; Ne noon so grey goos goth ther in the lake, As, seistow, that wol been with-oute make. And seyst, it is an hard thing for to welde A thing that no man wol, his thankes, helde. Thus seistow, lorel, whan thow goost to bedde; And that no wys man nedeth for to wedde, Ne no man that entendeth unto hevene. With wilde thonder-dint and firy levene Mote thy welked nekke be to-broke! And if that she be foul, thou seist that she Coveiteth every man that she may se; For as a spaynel she wol on him lepe, Til that she finde som man hir to chepe; Ne noon so grey goos goth ther in the lake, As, seistow, that wol been with-oute make. And seyst, it is an hard thing for to welde A thing that no man wol, his thankes, helde. Thus seistow, lorel, whan thow goost to bedde; And that no wys man nedeth for to wedde, Ne no man that entendeth unto hevene. With wilde thonder-dint and firy levene Mote thy welked nekke be to-broke!
Thow seyst that dropping houses, and eek smoke, And chyding wyves, maken men to flee Out of hir owene hous; a! benedicite! What eyleth swich an old man for to chyde? Thow seyst, we wyves wol our vyces hyde Til we be fast, and than we wol hem shewe; Wel may that be a proverbe of a shrewe! Thow seyst that dropping houses, and eek smoke, And chyding wyves, maken men to flee Out of hir owene hous; a! benedicite! What eyleth swich an old man for to chyde? Thow seyst, we wyves wol our vyces hyde Til we be fast, and than we wol hem shewe; Wel may that be a proverbe of a shrewe!

Original Text

Modern Text

Thou seyst, som folk desyre us for richesse, Somme for our shap, and somme for our fairnesse; And som, for she can outher singe or daunce, And som, for gentillesse and daliaunce; Som, for hir handes and hir armes smale; Thus goth al to the devel by thy tale. Thou seyst, men may nat kepe a castel-wal; It may so longe assailled been over-al. Thou seyst, som folk desyre us for richesse, Somme for our shap, and somme for our fairnesse; And som, for she can outher singe or daunce, And som, for gentillesse and daliaunce; Som, for hir handes and hir armes smale; Thus goth al to the devel by thy tale. Thou seyst, men may nat kepe a castel-wal; It may so longe assailled been over-al.
And if that she be foul, thou seist that she Coveiteth every man that she may se; For as a spaynel she wol on him lepe, Til that she finde som man hir to chepe; Ne noon so grey goos goth ther in the lake, As, seistow, that wol been with-oute make. And seyst, it is an hard thing for to welde A thing that no man wol, his thankes, helde. Thus seistow, lorel, whan thow goost to bedde; And that no wys man nedeth for to wedde, Ne no man that entendeth unto hevene. With wilde thonder-dint and firy levene Mote thy welked nekke be to-broke! And if that she be foul, thou seist that she Coveiteth every man that she may se; For as a spaynel she wol on him lepe, Til that she finde som man hir to chepe; Ne noon so grey goos goth ther in the lake, As, seistow, that wol been with-oute make. And seyst, it is an hard thing for to welde A thing that no man wol, his thankes, helde. Thus seistow, lorel, whan thow goost to bedde; And that no wys man nedeth for to wedde, Ne no man that entendeth unto hevene. With wilde thonder-dint and firy levene Mote thy welked nekke be to-broke!
Thow seyst that dropping houses, and eek smoke, And chyding wyves, maken men to flee Out of hir owene hous; a! benedicite! What eyleth swich an old man for to chyde? Thow seyst, we wyves wol our vyces hyde Til we be fast, and than we wol hem shewe; Wel may that be a proverbe of a shrewe! Thow seyst that dropping houses, and eek smoke, And chyding wyves, maken men to flee Out of hir owene hous; a! benedicite! What eyleth swich an old man for to chyde? Thow seyst, we wyves wol our vyces hyde Til we be fast, and than we wol hem shewe; Wel may that be a proverbe of a shrewe!