The wright's chaste wife : or "A fable of a wryght that was maryde to a pore wydows dowtre the whiche wydow havyng noo good to geve with her gave as for a precyous Johelle to hym a Rose garlond the whyche she affermyd wold never fade while she kept truly her wedlok." : a merry tale / by Adam of Cobsam from a ms. in the library of the Archbishop of Canterbury, at Lambeth, about 1462 A.D. ; copied and edited by Frederick J. Furnivall.

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The wright's chaste wife : or "A fable of a wryght that was maryde to a pore wydows dowtre the whiche wydow havyng noo good to geve with her gave as for a precyous Johelle to hym a Rose garlond the whyche she affermyd wold never fade while she kept truly her wedlok." : a merry tale / by Adam of Cobsam from a ms. in the library of the Archbishop of Canterbury, at Lambeth, about 1462 A.D. ; copied and edited by Frederick J. Furnivall. Adam, of Cobsam, active approximately 1462. Furnivall, Frederick James, 1825-1910. Clouston, W. A. (William Alexander), 1843-1896. Lambeth Palace Library. Manuscript. no. 306. 2nd ed., rev., 1869 viii, 28 p. ; 23 cm. London : Published for the Early English Text Society by N. Trübner, 1865 [i.e. 1869] Early English Text Society (Series). Original series,nos. 12, 84. "Women," a poem from the same manuscript: p. 25-26. Note concerning source: "Wright's chaste wife": 1 leaf appended to The Babees book, ed. by F. J. Furnivall, 1868. (Original series, no. 32) Accompanied by "Additional analogues of 'The wright's chaste wife' / by W. A. Clouston." (p. 25-39) (Original series, no. 84)

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The Wright's Chaste Wife, OR "A Fable of a wrygħt that was maryde to a pore wydows dowtre / the whiche wydow havyng noo good to geve with her / gave as for a precyous Johełł to hym a Rose garlond / the whyche sche affermyd wold never fade while sche kept truly her wedlok."

A Merry Tale, by Adam of Cobsam, From a MS. in the Library of the Archbishop of Canterbury, at Lambeth, about 1462 A.D.

COPIED AND EDITED BY FREDERICK J. FURNIVALL.

[Second Edition, revised, 1869.]

LONDON: PUBLISHED FOR THE EARLY ENGLISH TEXT SOCIETY, BY N. TRÜBNER & CO., 60, PATERNOSTER ROW.

MDCCCLXV.

THE WRIGHT'S CHASTE WIFE.

[MS. Lambeth 306, leaves 178-187.]

Ałłmyghty god, maker of alle, Saue you my souereyns in towre & halle, My sovereigns, And send yoū good grace! If ye wyłł a stounde blynne, Of a story I wyłł begynne, I will tell you a tale And telle you ałł the cas, Meny farleyes þat I haue herde, Ye would haue wondyr how yt ferde; Lystyn, and ye schałł here; Of a wryght I wyłł you telle, of a wright That some tyme in thys land gan dwelle, of this land, And lyued by hys myster. Whether that he were yn or owte, who, at work, was afraid of no earthly man. Of erthely man hadde he no dowte, To werke hows, harowe, nor plowgh, Or other werkes, what so they were, Thous wrought he hem farre and nere, And dyd tham wele I-nough. Thys wryght would wedde no wyfe, At first he would wed no wife, Butt yn yougeth to lede hys lyfe In myrthe and oþer melody; Ouer ałł where he gan wende, for wherever he went he was welcome; Ałł they seyd "welcome, frende, Sytt downe, and do gla[d]ly." Tyłł on a tyme he was wyllyng, but at last he wished As tyme comyth of alle thyng, (So seyth the profesye,) A wyfe for to wedde & haue to have a spouse to look after his goods. That myght hys goodes kepe and saue, And for to leue ałł foly. Ther dwellyd a wydowe in þat contre A widow near had a fair daughter That hadde a doughter feyre & fre; Of her, word sprang wyde, For sche was bothe stabyłł & trewe, true and meek. Meke of maners, and feyr of hewe; So seyd men in that tyde. The wryght seyde, "so god me saue, Such a wyfe would I haue Her the wright would like to lie by him, To lye nyghtly by my syde." He þought to speke wyth þat may, And rose erly on a daye and therefore went to her mother And þyder gan he to ryde. The wryght was welcome to þe wyfe, And her saluyd ałł so blyve, And so he dyd her doughter fre: For the erand that he for cam̄ and proposed for the maiden. Tho he spake, þat good yeman̄; Than to hym seyd sche: The wydowe seyd, "by heuen kyng, The mother says she can only give him as a portion I may geue wyth her no þing, (And þat forthynketh me;) Saue a garlond I wyłł the geue, a garland Ye schałł neuer see, whyle ye lyve, None such in thys contre: Haue here thys garlond of roses ryche, of roses In ałł thys lond ys none yt lyche, For ytt wyłł euer be newe, that will keep its colour Wete þou wele withowtyn fable, Ałł the whyle thy wyfe ys stable while his wife is true, The chaplett wolle hold hewe; And yf thy wyfe vse putry, but change when she is faithless. Or tolle eny man to lye her by, Than wolle yt change hewe, And by the garlond þou may see, Fekyłł or fals yf þat sche be, Or ellys yf sche be trewe." Of thys chaplett hym was fułł fayne, The wright is delighted with his garland and wife, And of hys wyfe, was nott to layne; He weddyd her fułł sone, marries her and takes her home; And ladde her home wyth solempnite, And hyld her brydałł dayes thre. Whan they home come, Thys wryght in hys hart cast, and then begins to think that when he is out at work If that he walkyd est or west As he was wonte to done, "My wyfe þat ys so bryght of ble, men will try to corrupt his wife. Men wolle desyre her fro me, And þat hastly and sone;" Butt sone he hym byþought So he plans a crafty room and tower, That a chambyr schuld be wrought Bothe of lyme and stone, Wyth wallys strong as eny stele, And dorres sotylly made and wele, He owte framyd yt sone; The chambyr he lett make fast, and builds it soon with plaster of Paris, Wyth plaster of parys þat wyłł last, Such ous know I neuer none; Ther ys [ne] kyng ne emperoure, which no one could ever get out of if he once got into it, And he were lockyn in þat towre, That cowde gete owte of þat wonne. Nowe hath he done as he þought, And in the myddes of the flore wrought A wondyr strange gyle, for there was a trapdoor in the middle, A trapdoure rounde abowte That no man myght come yn nor owte; It was made wyth a wyle, That who-so touchyd yt eny thyng, and if any one only touched it, down he'd go into a pit. In to þe pytt he schuld flyng Wythyn a lytyłł whyle. For hys wyfe he made that place, This was to stop any tricks with his wife. That no man schuld beseke her of grace, Nor her to begyle. By þat tyme þe lord of the towne Just then the town Lord Hadde ordeynyd tymbyr redy bowne, An halle to make of tre. After the wryght the lord lett sende, sends for him to build a Hall, For þat he schuld wyth hym lende Monythys two or thre. (a job for two or three months,) The lord seyd, "woult þou haue þi wyfe? I wyłł send after her blyve and offers to fetch his wife too. That sche may com to the." The wryght hys garlond hadde take wyth hym̄, That was bryght and no þing dymme, Yt wes feyre on to see. The lord axyd hym as he satt, He sees the wright's garland, and asks what it means. "Felowe, where hadyst þou þis hatte That ys so feyre and newe?" The wryght answerd ałł so blyue, And seyd, "syr, I hadde yt wyth my wyfe, "Sir, it will And þat dare me neuer rewe; Syr, by my garlond I may see tell me whether my wife is false or true; Fekyłł or fals yf þat sche be, Or [MS. of] yf þat sche be trewe; And yf my wyfe loue a paramoure, and will change its colour if she go wrong." Than wyłł my garlond vade coloure, And change wyłł yt the hewe." The lord þought "by godys myght, That wyłł I wete thys same nyght "I'll try that," thinks the Lord, Whether thys tale be trewe." To the wryghtys howse anon he went, and goes to the wright's wife. He fonde the wyfe ther-in presente That was so bryght and schene; Sone he hayled her trewly, And so dyd sche the lord curtesly: Sche seyd, "welcome ye be;" Thus seyd the wyfe of the hows, "Syr, howe faryth my swete spouse She asks after her husband, That hewyth vppon your tre?" "Sertes, dame," he seyd, "wele, but the Lord And I am come, so haue I hele, To wete the wylle of the; My loue ys so vppon the cast declares his own love for her, That me thynketh my hert wolle brest, It wolle none otherwyse be; Good dame, graunt me thy grace and prays her to grant him his will. To pley with the in some preuy place For gold and eke for fee." "Good syr, lett be youre fare, She entreats him to let that be, And of such wordes speke no mare For hys loue þat dyed on tre; Hadde we onys begonne þat gle, My husbond by his garlond myght see; For sorowe he would wexe woode." "Certes, dame," he seyd, "naye; but he presses her, Loue me, I pray you, in þat ye maye: For godys loue change thy mode, Forty marke schałł be youre mede and offers her 40 marks. Of syluer and of gold[e] rede, And that schałł do the good." "Syr, that deede schałł be done; On this she con∣sents if he'll put down the money. Take me that mony here anone." "I swere by the holy rode I thought when I cam hydder For to bryng [or hyng. ? MS.] yt ałł to-gydder, As I mott broke my heele." Ther sche toke xl marke The 40 marks she takes, Of syluer and gold styff and sterke: Sche toke yt feyre and welle; Sche seyd, "in to the chambyr wyłł we, and tells him to go Ther no man schałł vs see; No lenger wyłł we spare." into the secret chamber. Vp the steyer they gan 1 MS. gar hye: Upstairs he goes, The stepes were made so queyntly That farther myght he nott fare. The lord stumbyllyd as he went in hast, stumbles, He fełł doune in to þat chaste and pops down 40 feet through the wright's trapdoor. Forty fote and somedele more. The lord began to crye; The wyfe seyd to hym in hye, "Syr, what do ye there?" "Dame, I can nott seye howe He prays the That I am come hydder nowe To thys hows þat ys so newe; I am so depe in thys sure flore That I ne can come owte att no dore; Good dame, on me þou rewe!" good dame to have pity on him. "Nay," says she, "not till my hus∣band sees you." "Nay," sche seyd, "so mut y the, Tyłł myne husbond come and se, I schrewe hym þat yt þought." The lord arose and lokyd abowte The Lord tries to get out, but can't, If he myght eny where gete owte, Butt yt holpe hym̄ ryght nogħt, The wallys were so thycke wythyn̄, That he no where myght owte wynne But helpe to hym̄ were brought; And euer the lord made euyłł chere, and then threatens the wife, And seyd, "dame, þou schalt by thys dere." Sche seyd that sche ne rougħt; Sche seyd "I recke nere but she doesn't care for that, Whyle I am here and þou art there, I schrewe herre þat þe doth drede." The lord was sone owte of her þought, The wyfe went in to her lofte, and goes away to her work. Sche satte and dyd her dede. Than yt fełł on þat oþer daye, Next day the Lord begs for food. Of mete and drynke he gan her pray, There of he hadde gret nede. He seyd, "dame, for seynt charyte, Wyth some mete þou comfort me." Sche seyd, "nay, so god me spede, "You'll get none from me For I swere by swete seynt Iohne, Mete ne drynke ne getyst þou none Butt þou wylt swete or swynke; unless you sweat for it," says she; "spin me some flax." For I haue both hempe and lyne, And a betyngstocke fułł fyne, And a swyngyłł good and grete; If þou wylt worke, tell me sone." "Dame, bryng yt forthe, yt schałł be done, He says he will: Fułł gladly would I ete." Sche toke the stocke in her honde, she throws him the tools, And in to the pytt sche yt sclang Wyth a grete hete: Sche brought the lyne and hempe on her backe, the flax and hemp, "Syr lord," sche seyd, "haue þou þat, and says, "Work away." And lerne for to swete." Ther sche toke hym a bonde For to occupy hys honde, And bade hym fast on to bete. He leyd yt downe on the [? MS. this.] stone, He does, And leyd on strockes wełł good wone, lays on well, And sparyd nott on to leyne. Whan þat he hadde wrought a thraue, Mete and drynke he gan to craue, and then asks for his food, And would haue hadde yt fayne; "That I hadde somewhat for to ete Now after my gret swete; Me thynketh yt were rygħt, For I haue labouryd nyght and daye for he's toiled night and day. The for to plese, dame, I saye, And therto putt my myght." The wyfe seyd "so mutt I haue hele, The wife And yf þi worke be wrought wele Thou schalt haue to dyne." Mete and drynke sche hym bare, gives him meat and drink Wyth a thrafe of flex mare Of fułł long boundyn lyne. and more flax, So feyre the wyfe the lord gan praye That he schuld be werkyng aye, and keeps him up to his work. And nought þat he schuld blynne; The lord was fayne to werke tho, Butt hys men knewe nott of hys woo Nor of þer lordes pyne. The stuard to þe wryght gan saye, The Steward asks the wright after his Lord, "Sawe þou owte of my lord to-daye, Whether that he ys wende?" The wryght answerde and seyd "naye; I sawe hym nott syth yesterdaye; I trowe þat he be schent." The stuard stode þe wryght by, then notices the garland, And of hys garlond hadde ferly What þat yt be-mente. The stuard seyd, "so god me saue, and asks who gave it him. Of thy garlond wondyr I haue, And who yt hath the sent." "Syr," he seyd, "be the same hatte "Sir, it will tell me whether my wife goes bad." I can knowe yf my wyfe be badde To me by eny other man̄; If my floures ouþer fade or falle, Then doth my wyfe me wrong wyth-alle, As many a woman can̄. The stuard þought "by godes mygħt, "I'll prove that this very night," says the steward, That schałł I preue thys same nygħt Whether þou blys or banne," And in to hys chambyr he gan gone, gets plenty of money, and goes off And toke tresure fułł good wone, And forth he spedde hem than̄. Butt he ne stynt att no stone Tyłł he vn-to þe wryghtes hows come to the wright's house, That ylke same nygħt. He mett the wyfe amydde the gate, Abowte þe necke he gan her take, takes her round the neck, and offers her all And seyd "my dere wyght, Ałł the good þat ys myne I wyłł the geue to be thyne he has, to lie by her that night. To lye by the ałł nyght." Sche seyd, "syr, lett be thy fare, She refuses, My husbond wolle wete wyth-owtyn̄ mare And I hym dyd that vnrygħt; I would nott he myght yt wete For ałł the good that I myght gete, So Ihesus 1 MS. Iħc mutt me spede For, and eny man lay me by, as her husband would be sure to know of it. My husbond would yt wete truly, It ys wythowtyn eny drede." The stuard seyd "for hym þat ys wrought, The steward urges her again, There-of, dame, drede the nogħt Wyth me to do that dede; Haue here of me xx marke and offers her 20 marks. Of gold and syluer styf and starke, Thys tresoure schałł be thy mede." "Syr, and I graunt þat to yoū, She says, "Then don't tell any one," Lett no man wete butt we two nowe." He seyd, "nay, wythowtyn drede." The stuard þought, 'sykerly Women beth both queynte & slye.' The mony he gan her bede; takes his money, He þought wele to haue be spedde, And of his erand he was onredde Or he were fro hem̄ I-gone. Vp the sterys sche hym leyde sends him up the quaint stairs, Tyłł he saw the wryghtes bedde: Of tresoure þought he none; He went and stumblyd att a stone; and lets him tumble through the trapdoor. In to þe seller he fylle sone, Downe to the bare flore. The lord seyd "what deuyłł art þoū? "What the devil are you?" says the Lord. And þou hadest falle on me nowe, Thowe hadest hurt me fułł sore." The stuard stert and staryd abowte If he mygħt ower gete owte The steward finds he can't get out; Att hole lesse or mare. The lord seyd, "welcome, and sytt be tyme, For þou schalt helpe to dyght thys lyne For ałł thy fers[e] fare." The stuard lokyd on the knygħt, He seyd, "syr, for godes myght, and wonders why his Lord is there. My lord, what do you here?" He seyd "felowe, wyth-owtyn oth, For o erand we come bothe, "We both came on one errand, man." The sothe wolle I nott lete." Tho cam the wyfe them vn-to, The wife asks what they're doing; And seyd, "syres, what do you to, Wyłł ye nott lerne to swete?" Than seyd þe lord her vn-to, the Lord says, 'Dame, your lyne ys I-doo, "Your flax is done, and I want my dinner." Nowe would I fayne ete: And I haue made yt ałł I-lyke, Fułł clere, and no þing thycke, Me thynketh yt gret payne." The stuard seyd "wyth-owtyn dowte, The steward says if he ever gets out he'll crack her skull. And euer I may wynne owte, I wyłł breke her brayne." "Felowe, lett be, and sey nott so, But the wife chaffs him, For þou schalt worke or euer þou goo, Thy wordes þou torne agayne, says he'll soon be glad to eat his words, Fayne þou schalt be so to doo, And thy good wylle put þerto; As a man buxome and bayne Thowe schalt rubbe, rele, and spynne, and unless he rubs and reels, he'll get no meat. And þou wolt eny mete wynne, That I geue to god a gyfte." The stuard seyd, "then haue I wondyr; "I'll die for hunger first, unhouseled," answers he. Rather would I dy for hungyr Wyth-owte hosyłł or shryfte." The lord seyd, "so haue I hele, Thowe wylt worke, yf þou hungyr welle, What worke þat the be brought." The lord satt and dyd hys werke, The Lord works away, The stuard drewe in to the derke, Gret sorowe was in hys þought. The lord seyd, "dame, here ys youre lyne, Haue yt in godes blessyng and myne, I hold yt welle I-wrought." Mete and drynke sche gaue hym yn̄, and gets his food and drink. "The stuard," sche seyd, "wolle he nott spynne, Wyłł he do ryght nogħt?" The lord seyd, "by swete sen Ione, Of thys mete schałł he haue none None of it will he give to the steward, That ye haue me hydder brought." The lord ete and dranke fast, but eats it all up, The stuard hungeryd att þe last, For he gaue hym nought. The stuard satt ałł in a stody, Hys lord hadde forgote curtesy: Tho 1 [MS. The] seyd þe stuard, "geue me some." The lord seyd, "sorowe haue þe morsełł or sope That schałł come in thy throte! and won't give him one crumb: Nott so much as o crome! Butt þou wylt helpe to dyght þis lyne, let him work and earn some for himself. Much hungyr yt schałł be thyne Though þou make much mone." Vp he rose, and went therto, The steward gives in, "Better ys me þus to doo Whyle yt must nedys be do." The stuard began fast to knocke, asks for work; the wife throws it him, The wyfe þrew hym a swyngelyng stocke, Hys mete þerwyth to myn̄; Sche brought a swyngyłł att þe last, "Good syres," sche seyd, "swyngylle on fast; For no þing that ye blynne." Sche gaue hym̄ a stocke to sytt vppon̄, And seyd "syres, þis werke must nedys be done, Ałł that that ys here yn̄." The stuard toke vp a stycke to saye, "Sey, seye, swyngyłł better yf ye may, and steward and Lord are both spinning away Hytt wyłł be the better to spynne." Were þe lord neuer so gret, Yet was he fayne to werke for hys mete to earn their dinner, Though he were neuer so sadde; Butt þe stuard þat was so stowde, Was fayne to swyngelle þe scales owte, Ther-of he was nott glad. The lordys meyne þat were att home while the Lord's people cannot make out what has become of him. Wyst nott where he was bycome, They were fułł sore adrad. The proctoure of þe parysche chyrche rygħt Then the Proctor sees the wright Came and lokyd on þe wryght, He lokyd as he ware madde; Fast þe proctoure gan hym frayne, "Where hadest þou þis garlond gayne? and asks where he got his gar∣land from. It ys euer lyke newe." The wryght gan say "felowe, Wyth my wyfe, yf þou wylt knowe; "With my wife; That dare me nott rewe; For ałł the whyle my wyfe trew ys, and while she is true it will never fade, My garlond wolle hold hewe I-wys, And neuer falle nor fade; And yf my wyfe take a paramoure, but if she's false it will." Than wolle my garlond vade þe floure, That dare I ley myne hede." The proctoure þought, "in good faye The proctor thinks he'll test this, That schałł I wete thys same daye Whether yt may so be." To the wryghtes hows he went, goes to the wright's wife He grete þe wyfe wyth feyre entente, Sche seyd "syr, welcome be ye." "A! dame, my loue ys on you fast and declares his love for her; Syth the tyme I sawe you last; I pray you yt may so be That ye would graunt me of your grace To play wyth you in some priuy place, he must have her or die. Or ellys to deth mutt me." Fast þe proctoure gan to pray, And euer to hym̄ sche seyd "naye, She says nay, That wolle I nott doo. Hadest þou done þat dede wyth me, as her husband will know of it by his garland. My spouse by hys garlond myght see, That schuld torne me to woo." The proctoure seyd, "by heuen kyng, The proctor If he sey to the any þing He schałł haue sorowe vn-sowte; Twenty marke I wolle þe geue, offers her 20 marks. It wolle þe helpe welle to lyue, The mony here haue I brought." Nowe hath sche the tresure tane, These she takes; And vp þe steyre be they gane, they go upstairs, (What helpyth yt to lye?) The wyfe went the steyre be-syde, The proctoure went a lytyłł to wyde and the proctor tumbles into the cellar, He fełł downe by and by. Whan he in to þe seller felle, He wente to haue sonke in to helle, and thinks he is going to hell. He was in hart fułł sory. The stuard lokyd on the knyght, And seyd "proctoure, for godes myght, The steward asks him to sit down; Come and sytt vs by." The proctoure began to stare, For he was he wyst neuer whare, he doesn't know where he is, Butt wele he knewe þe knyght And the stuard þat swyngelyd þe lyne. He seyd "syres, for godes pyne, but asks what the Lord and steward are after there, What do ye here thys nygħt?" The stuard seyd, "god geue the care, Thowe camyst to loke howe we fare, Nowe helpe þis lyne were dyght." He stode styłł in a gret þought, What to answer he wyst noght: "By mary fułł of mygħt," The proctoure seyd, "what do ye in þis yne working the wife's flax; For to bete thys wyfees lyne? For Ihesus loue, ffułł of myght," The proctoure seyd ryght as he þougħt, "For me yt schałł be euyłł wrougħt he, the proctor, will never do the like, And I may see arygħt, For I lernyd neuer in lond it's not his trade. For to haue a swyngełł in hond By day nor be nyght." The stuard seyd, "as good as þoū The steward says, "We're as good as you, and yet We hold vs that be here nowe, And lett preue yt be sygħt; Yet must vs worke for owre mete, have to work for our food." Or ellys schałł we none gete, Mete nor drynke to owre honde." The lord seyd, "why flyte ye two? The Lord says, "And you'll have to work ere you go." I trowe ye wyłł werke or ye goo, Yf yt be as I vndyrstond." Abowte he goys twyes or thryes; They ete & drunke in such wyse They eat and drink, and give the proctor nothing, That þey geue hym ryght noght. The proctoure seyd, "thynke ye no schame, Yheue me some mete, (ye be to blame,) to his great disgust, Of that the wyfe ye brougħt." The stuard seyd "euyłł spede the soppe If eny morcełł come in thy throte Butt þou wyth vs hadest wrought." The proctoure stode in a stody till at last Whether he mygħt worke hem by; And so to torne hys þougħt, To the lord he drewe nere, And to hym seyd wyth myld[e] chere, "That mary mott the spede!" The proctoure began to knocke, he too knocks for work, The good wyfe rawte hym a rocke, For therto hadde sche nede; Sche seyd "whan I was mayde att home, Other werke cowde I do none My lyfe ther-wyth to lede." Sche gaue hym in hande a rocke hynde, gets a distaff and some winding to do, And bade hem fast for to wynde Or ellys to lett be hys dede. "Yes, dame," he seyd, "so haue I hele, I schałł yt worke both feyre & welle As ye haue taute me." He wauyd vp a strycke of lyne, And he span wele and fyne and spins away well. By-fore the swyngełł tre. The lord seyd "þou spynnest to grete, Therfor þou schalt haue no mete, That þou schalt wełł see." Thus þey satt and wrought fast Thus they all sit and work till the wright comes home. Tyłł þe wekedayes were past; Then the wryght, home came he, And as he cam by hys hows syde As he approaches he hears a noise, He herd [?MS. hard] noyse that was nott ryde Of persons two or thre; One of hem knockyd lyne, A-nothyr swyngelyd good and fyne By-fore the swyngyłł tre, The thyrde did rele and spynne, Mete and drynke ther-wyth to wynne, Gret nede ther-of hadde he. Thus þe wryght stode herkenyng; Hys wyfe was ware of hys comyng, his wife comes to meet him, And ageynst hym went sche. "Dame," he seyd, "what ys þis dynne? I here gret noyse here wythynne; and he asks what all that noise is about. Tełł me, so god the spede." "Syr," sche seyd, "workemen thre "Why, three workmen have come to help us, dear. Be come to helpe you and me, Ther-of we haue gret nede; Fayne would I wete what they were." Who are they?" Butt when he sawe hys lord there, The wright sees his Lord in the pit, Hys hert bygan to drede: To see hys lord in þat place, He þought yt was a strange cas, And seyd, "so god hym spede, and asks how What do ye here, my lord and knygħt? Tełł me nowe for godes mygħt Howe cam thys vn-to?" he came there. The knyght seyd "What ys best rede? Mercy I aske for my mysdede, The Lord asks mercy: he is very sorry. My hert ys wondyr wo." "So ys myne, verament, "So am I," says the wright, "to see you among the flax and hemp," To se you among thys flex and hempe, Fułł sore yt ruytħ me; To se you in such hevynes, Fułł sore myne hert yt doth oppresse, By god in trinite." The wryght bade hys wyfe lett hym̄ owte, and orders his wife to let the Lord out. "Nay, þen sorowe come on my snowte If they passe hens to-daye "No, bother my snout if I do," says the wife, "before his lady sees what he wanted to do with me." Tyłł that my lady come and see Howe þey would haue done wyth me, Butt nowe late me saye." Anon sche sent after the lady brygħt So she sends for the dame to fetch her lord home, For to fett home her lord and knyght, Therto sche seyd nogħt; Sche told her what they hadde ment, And of ther purpos & ther intente and tells her what he and his companions came there for. The lady That they would haue wrought. Glad was þat lady of that tydyng; When sche wyst her lord was lyuyng, Ther-of sche was fułł fayne: Whan sche came vn-to þe steyre abouen̄, Sche lokyd vn-to þe seller downe, looks down into the cellar, and says, "Good sirs, what are you doing?" And seyd,—þis ys nott to leyne,— "Good syres, what doo you here?" "Dame, we by owre mete fułł dere, "Earning our meat full dear: Wyth gret trauayle and peyne; I pray you helpe þat we were owte, help us out, and I'll never come here again." And I wyłł swere wyth-owtyn dowte Neuer to come here agayne." The lady spake the wyfe vn-tylle, The lady asks the wife why And seyd "dame, yf yt be youre wylle, What doo thes meyny here?" the men are there. The carpentarys wyfe her answerd sykerly, The wife says they wanted to lie with her, and offered her gold and silver; "Ałł they would haue leyne me by; Euerych, in ther manere, Gold and syluer they me brought, And forsoke yt, and would yt noght, The ryche gyftes so clere. Wyllyng þey were to do me schame, I toke ther gyftes wyth-owtyn blame, she took their gifts, and there they are. And ther they be ałł thre." The lady answerd her anon̄, The lady says she really wants her lord for herself, "I haue thynges to do att home Mo than two or thre; I wyst my lord neuer do ryght noght Of no þing þat schuld be wrought, Such as fallyth to me." The lady lawghed and made good game and laughs heartily when the three culprits come out. Whan they came owte ałł in-same From the swyngyłł tre. The knyght seyd "felowys in fere, The Lord says, I am glad þat we be here, By godes dere pyte; Dame, and ye hadde bene wyth vs, "Ah, you'd have worked too if you'd been with us, Ye would haue wrought, by swete Ihesus, As welle as dyd we." And when they cam vp abouen̄ They turnyd abowte and lokyd downe, The lord seyd, "so god saue me, Yet hadde I neuer such a fytte I never had such a turn in my life before, I can tell you." As I haue hadde in þat lowe pytte; So mary so mutt me spede." The knyght and thys lady bryght, Then the Lord and lady go home, Howe they would home that nygħt, For no thyng they would abyde; And so they went home; Thys seyd Adam of Cobsam̄. The letter between the b and a has had the lower part marked over. But it must mean a long s. as ADAM of COBSAM says. By the weye as they rode Throwe a wode in ther playeng, On their way home For to here the fowlys syng They hovyd stylle and bode. they halt, The stuard sware by godes ore, and the steward and proctor swear they'll never go back for five and forty years. And so dyd the proctoure much more, That neuer in ther lyfe Would they no more come in þat wonne Whan they were onys thens come, Thys forty yere and fyve. Of the tresure that they brought, The lady gives all their money to the wright's wife. The lady would geue hem ryght noght, Butt gaue yt to the wryghtes wyfe. Thus the wryghtes garlond was feyre of hewe, The garland is fresh as ever. And hys wyfe bothe good and trewe: There-of was he fułł blythe; I take wytnes att gret and smałł, Thus trewe bene good women ałł Thus true are all good women now alive! That nowe bene on lyve, So come thryste on ther hedys Whan they mombyłł on ther bedys Ther pater noster ryue. Here ys wretyn a geste of the wryght Here then is written a tale of the Wright and his Garland. That hadde a garlond wełł I-dyght, The coloure wyłł neuer fade. Now god, þat ys heuyn kyng, God grant us all his blessing, Graunt vs ałł hys dere blessyng Owre hertes for to glade; And ałł tho that doo her husbondys rygħt, and may all true faithful wives Pray we to Ihesu fułł of myght, That feyre mott hem byfalle, And that they may come to heuen blys, come to heaven's bliss, For thy dere moderys loue ther-of nott to mys, Alle good wyues alle. Now alle tho that thys tretys hath hard, and be such Ihesu graunt hem, for her reward, As trew louers to be true lovers as the As was the wryght vn-to hys wyfe And sche to hym duryng her lyfe. wright and his wife were. Amen! Amen, for charyte. Here endyth the wryghtes processe trewe Here ends our tale of the Garland Wyth hys garlond feyre of hewe That neuer dyd fade the coloure. It was made, by the avyse Of hys wywes moder wytty and wyse, Of flourys most of honoure, which was made of White Roses, Of roses whyte þat wyłł nott fade, Whych floure ałł ynglond doth glade, the flowers that gladden all England, Wyth trewloues medelyd in sygħt; Vn-to the whych floure I-wys The loue of god and of the comenys and receive the love of God, and of the Com∣mons too. Subdued May be subdied; the word has been corrected. bene of rygħt. Explicit.