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¶ Lord, that lenest us lyf
Ant lokest uch an lede,
Forte cocke with knyf
Nast thou none nede;
Bothe wepmon ant wyf
Sore mowe drede
Lest thou be sturne with strif
For bone that thou bede
In wunne:
That monkune
Shulde shilde hem from sunne.
Nou hath prude the pris
In everuche plawe;
By mony wymmon unwis
Y sugge mi sawe,
For yef a ledy lyne is
Leid after lawe,
Uch a strumpet that ther is
Such drahtes wol drawe
In prude:
Uch a screwe wol hire shrude
Thah he nabbe nout a smoke hire foule ers to hude!
Furmest in boure
Were boses ybroht;
Levedis to honoure
Ichot he were wroht;
Uch gigelot wol loure
Bote he hem habbe soht;
Such shrewe fol soure
Ant duere hit hath aboht
In helle:
With develes he shule duelle
For the clogges that cleveth by here chelle!
Nou ne lacketh hem no lyn
Boses in to beren:
He sitteth ase a slat swyn
That hongeth is eren.
Such a joustynde gyn
Uch wrecche wol weren;
Al hit cometh in declyn,
This gigelotes geren
Upo lofte:
The Devel may sitte softe
Ant holden his halymotes ofte!
Yef ther lyth a loket
By er outher eye,
That mot with worse be wet
For lac of other leye.
The bout ant the barbet
Wyth frountel shule feye.
Habbe he a fauce filet,
He halt hire hed heye
To shewe
That heo be kud ant knewe,
For strompet in rybaudes rewe!
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¶ Lord, who lends us life
And watches over everyone,
To point a knife
You have no need;
Both man and woman
Must fearfully dread
Lest you be stern with strife
Over the request you made
In bliss:
That mankind
Should refrain from sin.
Nowadays pride takes the praise
At every social occasion;
By example of many foolish women
I express my verdict,
For if a lady’s clothing is
Fitted according to fashion,
Every strumpet that’s around
Will follow such tricks
Haughtily:
Every shrewish girl will dress herself up
Though she hasn’t a smock to hide her foul arse!
First into lady’s chamber
Were brought hair buns over cheeks;
For the honor of ladies
I know they were devised;
Every vain girl will scowl
Unless she’s obtained them;
This shrew full bitterly
And dearly has bought it
In hell:
With devils she shall dwell
For the clumps that cling in her hairnet!
Nowadays they don’t lack linen
To support their hair buns:
They sit like a baited pig
That hangs its ears.
Such a jousting device
Each wench will wear;
All comes to decline,
This vain girl’s fashion
Up on top:
The Devil may sit comfortably
And hold his court sessions often!
If there lies a curl
By either ear or eye,
It may be wet down with a worse fluid
For lack of any other lye.
The loop and the cloth band
Has to match the forehead piece.
She has a faux-silk headband,
Yet she holds her head high
To show
That she’s recognized and known,
As a strumpet in rogues’ company!
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