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God that died for us all And drank both eysell and gall Bring theym oute of bale And graunt theym good liff and long That woll listyn to my song And tend to my tale. Ther was a man in my contré Which had wyves thre In processe of tyme. By the fyrst wyff a child he had Which was a propre lad And a hasty hyne. Hys fader loved hym well; And his moder never a dele — I tell you as I think. All she thought lost, by the rode, Of all that ever did hym good Of mete or of drynk. Nott half inough therof he had And yett forsoth it was right bad, Yett she thought it lost. Therfor evill mott she fare, For ofte she did hym moch care As farforth as she durst. The goodwiff to her husband gan say, “For to putt this boye away I rede you in haste. For in fayth it is a shrewed lad; I wold som other man hym had That wold hym better chaste.” The goodman answered agayn, And said, “Dame, I shall thee sayn, He is butt yong of age. He shall abide with me a yere Till he be strenger To wynne better wage. “We have a man, a strong freke, Which kepyth on the feld our nete, And slepith half the day. He shall com home, be Mary myld; The boy shall into the feld And kepe hem if he may.” The goodwiff was glad verament And therto sone she assent And said, “It is best.” Upon the morowe when it was day Forth went the litell boye: To the feld he was preste. Upon his bak he bare his staff. Of no man he ne gaff: He was mery inowgh. He went forth, the soth to sayn, Till he com on the playn. His dynner oute he drewe. When he sawe it was so bad Lytill lust therto he had And putt it up anon. Iwysse, he was nott for to wyte. He seyde, “I will ete but a lyghte Tyl nyght that I come home.” Uppon an hill he hym set. An olde man therwith he met, Cam walkyng be the wey. He seide, “God spede, good son.” He seide, “Sir, welcome, The sothe for to saye.” The olde man was hungrid sore And sayde, “Son, hast thou any mete astore That thou mayst geve me?” The boye seide, “So God me save, Thow shalt se suche as I have, And welcome shalt thou be.” The lytill boye gaffe hym suche as he had And bad him ete and be glad And seide, “Welcome trewly.” The olde man, for to pleise, He ete and made him at eise, And sayde, “Sir, gramarcy. “For the mete that thow hast geve me I shall gyffe thee gyftis thre That shall not be forgete.” The boye sayde, “As I trowe, It were best that I hadde a bowe Byrdys for to shete.” “Bowe and bolte thou shalt have ryve That shall laste thee all thi lyve And ever alyke mete. Shete whersoever thou wilt, Thow shalt never fayle of it: The markys thou shalte kepe.” The bowe anon in hand he felt And his boltys under his belt. Lyghtely than he drewe. He saide, “Had I now a pipe, Thouh it were never so lite Than were I mery inowe.” “A pipe thou shalte have also: True mesure it shall goo, I put thee owte of dowte. All that ever that pipe dothe here, They shall not hemself after astere But lepe and daunce abowte. “Let se, what shall that other be? For thou shalt have yeftis thre As I thee hyght before.” The boye than lowde lowgh And sayde, “Be my trowth I have inowe; I will desire no more.” The olde man saide to hym, “Aplyght, Thow shalt have as I thee hyghte. Therfore sey on, let se.” The lytill boye seyde full sone, “I have a steppemoder at home. She is a shrowe to me. “When my fadir gewyth me mete She wold the devill had me cheke, She stareth so in my face. When she lokyth on me so Yef she myght lette a rappe goo That myght rynge all the place.” The olde man sayde to him tho, “Yef she loke on thee so She shall begynne to blowe. All that maye her heere, They shall hem not astere But laugh upon a rowe.” “Farewele,” saide the olde man, “No more, than, I ne can, But take my leve of thee. Allmyghty God that best may Spede yow both nyghte and daye.” “Gramarcy, syr,” sayde he. Than aftyrward whan it was nyghte Home went the boy full ryght. This was his ordinaunce: He toke his pipe and began to blow; Than all his bestis on a row Abowte him begun to daunce. The boye went pypyng thorow the towne. The bestis folowid him be the sowne Unto his fadirs close. Whan he was come home He beshet hem everychone And into the halle he goos. His fader at sooper sat. The boye spyed wele that And spake to him anoon. He seyde, “Welcome. Where be my bestys, good son? Hast thou broughte hem home?” “Ye, fadir, in good faye, I have kepte hem all this daye, And now they are shet.” A capons legge he toke him tho And sayde, “Jak, that is wele do. Boy, thou shalte fare the bet.” That grevid his dame herte sore: Ever she was tenid more and more. Than she starid in his face. And she let go a gret blaste That every man therof was agaste That was in that place. Ever they lowgh and had good game. The wyffe wex red for shame; She wolde fayne be agon. Jak seide, “Wele I wote I trow this game were wele smote Though it had be a gon stone.” Ful egerly lokid she on him tho. Another rappe she let goo; And ever she awey went. Jak seid, “Will ye se? My moder can let a pelet fle Or ever she astent.” Ever they lough and had good game. The wyffe went awaye for shame: She was in moche sorow. The goodman seide, “Go thi weye, For it is tyme, be my faye: Thyn arce is not to borowe.” Aftir that, will ye here, Tho into that howse cam a frere That lay ther al nyghte. Owre dame thoughth him a saynte. Anon to him she made a pleynte And tolde to hym anon ryght: “I have a boy that in this howse wons; He is a shrew for the nons. He doth me moche care. I may not loke ons hym upon But I have a shame, be Seynt Jhon; I telle the how I fare. “Mete hym in the fylde tomorow. Loke thou bete hym and do hym sorowe And make the boye lame. Iwis it is a cursed byche. I trow the boye be some wycche: He dothe me moche shame.” The frere seid, “I will wete.” She prayde him not forgete, “For that will greve me sore.” The frere seide, “In good faye, But I lasshe wele that boye Truste me never more.” Upon the morow the boye arose And into the felde he goos. His bestis gan he dryve. The frere went oute at the gate; He went he had come too late And ran aftyr full ryve. Whan he cam into that londe The lytill boye ther he founde And his bestis echon. He seide, “Boye, God gif thee shame. What haste thou do to thy dame? Have do and tel me anon. “But yf thou can escuse thee the bet Be my trouth thi narce shall be bete. I will no lenger abyde.” The boye seide, “What aylith thee? My dame farith as wele as ye. Thow haste no cause to chyde.” The boye sayde, “Will thou wite How fele byrdis I can shete And other thyngis all? I trowe though I be but lyght Yonder birde shall I smyte And geve it thee I shall.” Ther sat a byrde on a brere. “Shete on that,” quod the frere, “That lystyth me to se.” The boye smote it on the hede That it felle doune ther dede: It myghte no lenger flee. The frere into the hegge went And the birde up he hente As it was for to don. The boye leyde aside his bowe Full hastly, as I trowe, And tooke his pype sone. Whan the frere the pipe herde, As a wodman he ferde And began to lepe abowte. Amonge the bowis smale and grete Aboute lyghtly gan he lepe, But he cowde nowhere owte. Bremblis cracched hym in the face And eke in many another place. His body began to blede. He rent his clothis by and by, His girdill and his chapelery And all his other weede. Ever the boye blewe and lewh amonge. How the frere lepe and wronge! He leped wonder hye. Than sayed the boye and sware withall, “Be my trowth, here is a sporte ryall For any man to se with yee.” Ever the frere hyld up his hande And callid to hym amonge And prayed hym, “Be stylle, And here my trowth I plyghte to thee, Thou shalte never have harme of me: I will do thee non ylle.” The boye seide to hym that tyde, “Crepe owte on that other syde, And hye thee thou were go. My dame made a pleynte to thee And now I can non other se: Thow must compleyne to her also.” The frere oute of the hegge wente, All to-raged and to-rente And torne on every syde. Unneth he had any clowte For to wende hys body abowte His arsse for to hyde. Bothe his fyngers and his face Were crached in many a place And berayed all with bloode. Every man that hym gan se, They were hym fayne for to fle. They went the frere had bene woode. Whan he cam to his oste Of his jorney made he no boste. He was both tame and tale. Moche sorow in hert he had, For every man was adrad Whan he came into the hall. The goodwyf sayed, “Where hast thou be? In shrewde place as semyth me, Me thynke be thyn araye.” He seid, “I have be with thy son; The devill of helle hym overcom, For certis I ne maye.” Than cam in the goodman. “Lo, sir,” seid the goodwyf than, “Here is a shrewid araye. Thy son that is to thee so leef and dere Hath almoste slayne this holy frere, Alas, and weleaweye.” The goodman seide, “Benedicité! What hath my boye don to thee? Tell me anon blyve.” The frere seyde, “Be Seynt Jame, I have dauncid in the devillis name.” The goodman seyde to hym belyve — These woordis seyde he tho: “And thou haddist lorne thi lyf so Thou haddist be in grete synne.” The frere seide, “I shall tell why: Me thoughte the pipe went so merely That I cowde not blynne.” “Be my trowth,” than seide he, “Than is that a mery gle, Or ellys thou art to blame. That pipe will I here truly.” The frere saide, “So will not I, Be God and be Seynte Jame.” Afterward whan it was nyghte, Homeward went the boy ryght As it was for to done. As soon as he came into the hall Anon his fader did hym call And seide, “Boye, come heder anon.” “Herke boy, now thou arte here, What hast thou don to this frere? Telle me withowte lettynge.” “Fader,” he seide, “in good faye, I did ryght not nought to hym this day But pipe him a sprynge.” “That pipe,” he seide, “will I here.” “Nay, for God,” quod the frere, “That were an evill thynge.” The goodman sayde, “Ys, be Goddis grace.” The frere seide, “Alas, alas”; His handis he gan wrynge. “For Goddis love,” quod the frere, “And ye will the pipe here, Bynde me to the poste. Iwis I can no better rede: I wote I shall be dede. My lyffe wyll sone be loste.” Ropys anon they had in hond And to the poste they hym bond That stode in the hall. Tho that at souper satte They had good game and lough therat And seid, “Now the frere shall not fall.” Than spake the goodman. To his son he seyde than, “Pipe on what thou wylte.” “All redy, fader,” seide he, “I shall yow shewe of my gle: Ye shall have a fytte.” As soon as the pype wente They myghte not hemselfe stent But began to daunce and lepe. All that ever myght it here, They myght not themself asstere, But worled on a hepe. Tho that at souper satte, Over the table anon they lepte And sterid in that stounde. They that sat on the forme Had no tyme hem to turne; They were borne to the grounde. The goodman was in dispeyre: Streyte he sterte owte of the cheyre With an hevy chere. Som sterte over the stoke And brake her shynnes ageyn the bloke, And som felle in the fyre. The goodwyfe cam in behynde. She began to lepe and wynde And sharpely for to shake. But when she lokid on litill Jak, Her arsse to hym spake And lowde began to crake. The frere was allmoste loste: He beete his hede ageyne the poste. He had non other grace. The rope rubbid off the skynne I woote the blode ranne doune be hym In many dyvers place. The boye went pypyng in the strete And after hym hoole all the hepe: They myghte never astentt. They went owte at the dore so thyke That eche man fell in others neke, So myghtely oute they wente. They that dwellyd therby Harde the pype sekyrly In place ther they sat. Anon they lepte over the hacche; They had no tome to undo the lacche, They were so lothe to lette. And tho that laye in ther bedde, Anon they hyld up ther hede, Bothe the lesse and eke the more. In the strete, as I hard saye, In feyth they toke the ryght waye As nakyd as they were bore. Whan thay wer gaderid all abowte, Than was ther a grete route In the medyll of the strete. Some were lame and myghte not goo, Yt they hoppid aboute also And some began to crepe. The boye sayde, “Fader, wyll ye reste?” “In feyth,” he seide, “I holde it beste,” With ryght a good chere. “Make an ende whan thou wilte. In feyth this was the meryest fytte That I hard this sewyn yere.” Whan the pype went no more Than they amerveylid sore Of the governaunce. “Seynt Mary,” sayde some, “Where is all this myrth become That made us for to daunce?” Every man was of good chere. Thank the goodwyfe and the frere: They were all dysmayde.1 He that hath not all his will, Be it good or be it ylle, He holdyth hym not apayde. Now have ye herd all insame How Jak pleyde with his dame And pypid before the frere. Hym lykyd nothyng the boyes lay; Therfor he toke his leve and went his wey Somedele with hevy chere. The goodman norysshyd forth his chylde. The stepmoder was to hym mylde. And fare wele all in fere: That Lorde yow kepe, frendis all, That dranke both eysill and gall, Holy God in His empere.     Amen. Here endyth the tale of Jak and his stepdame

(see note); (t-note) vinegar; bile harm will attend all boy precocious lad not a bit; (see note) wasted, by the cross; (t-note) food truly may she suffer gave him a lot of grief As much as she dared mistress of the household; (see note) advise badly-behaved wish discipline master of the household I shall tell you stronger man; (see note) cattle; (t-note) by; (see note) (see note) them if he can truly to that; assented He was ready for the field bore He cared for nobody’s opinion (see note) came; clearing appetite stowed it away at once Certainly; not to blame; (t-note) little truth very hungry saved up gave encouraged him to made himself comfortable thanks given; (t-note) forgotten; (see note) believe shoot arrow; quickly always equally suitable; (t-note) miss it You will hit the targets arrows Easily If I had No matter how little tune restrain themselves afterwards; (see note) three gifts promised (t-note) Truly shrew gives choked; (see note) (t-note) Grant; a fart then If all together I can do no more, then straight arrangement one after another began sound enclosure shut every one of them up hall (main room) He (the father) Yes; in good faith (certainly) enclosed gave him then eat better [because of your good work] annoyed his mother’s heart deeply enraged amusement turned would gladly have been gone I well know this target would have been well hit Even if it had been [with] a pellet Very fiercely each time she turned away; (t-note) discharge a missile Before she ever stops entertainment; (t-note) (t-note) Your backside is not a satisfactory witness; (see note) Then; friar (see note) straight away lives brat for sure causes me a lot of trouble cannot glance at him once Without being embarrassed; (see note) Make sure; (t-note) Certainly; (see note) believe I will find out [if he is a witch] Unless (t-note) believed quickly countryside every one give Stop; (t-note) Unless you can excuse yourself really well your ass; beaten; (see note) longer wait What is wrong with you Do you want to know many; shoot believe; only little give brier; (see note) Shoot at; said I’d like to see that fly hedge he picked up As needed to be done lunatic he behaved But he could nowhere [get] out Brambles scratched also right away belt; scapular clothing laughed in between leapt and twisted amazingly high swore besides entertainment fit for a king eye at the same time quiet that time the far side hurry yourself to be gone complaint I can see no alternative Very ragged and ripped to shreds He hardly had a rag To twist around his body scratched smeared glad thought; crazy lodging day’s work tame and meek; (see note) frightened dangerous outfit I certainly can’t nasty state of affairs so beloved (see note) Gracious right away (see note) quickly If you had lost your life that way; (see note) You would have been (see note) merrily stop (i.e., the father) instrument (t-note) I really want to hear I do not want to directly hither; (t-note) delay I didn’t do a single thing dance tune before; said; (see note) Yes If you want to hear the pipe know no better advice know Those spoke up (t-note) some of my music tune stop themselves (t-note) control themselves whirled in a throng Those moved; moment bench (see note) Immediately he bounded sad expression the post broke their shins against the post; (t-note) (t-note) wriggle quickly thunder luck on different the whole crowd stop in such a throng neck forcefully nearby certainly where lower half-door leisure reluctant to wait those held Both low-ranking people and also high heard born; (t-note) gathered assemblage walk Yet in the last seven years; (see note); (t-note) very much marveled About the behavior What became of all this music Credit He who does not get what he wants does not feel satisfied together; (t-note) The boy’s tune pleased him not at all With a somewhat sober face continued to bring up together (see note)