In wyfhod I wol use myn instrument As frely as my Makere hath it sent. If I be daungerous, God yeve me sorwe! Myn housbonde shal it have bothe eve and morwe, When that hym list come forth and paye his dette.
Now, sire, now wol I telle forth my tale.— As evere moote I drynken wyn or ale, I shal seye sooth, tho housbondes that I hadde, As thre of hem were goode, and two were badde.
After that day we hadden never debaat. God helpe me so, I was to hym as kynde As any wyf from Denmark unto Ynde, And also trewe, and so was he to me. I prey to God, that sit in magestee, So blesse his soule for his mercy deere.