Nay,  quod  this  monk,  by  God  and  Seint  Martin,
He  n*is  no  more  cosin  unto  me,
Than  is  the  leef  that  hangeth  on  the  tree:
I  clepe  him  so  by  Seint  Cenis  of  France
To  han  the  more  cause  of  acquaintance
Of  you,  which  I  have  loved  specially
Aboven  alle  women  sikerly,
This  swere  I  you  on  my  professioun:
Telleth  your  grefe,  lest  that  he  come  adoun,
And  hasteth  you,  and  goth  away  anon.
My  dere  love,  quod  she,  o  my  Dan  John,

*  Undo,  ruin.  2  /.e.,my  Breviary.  '  Will  or  nilL

A  A


354  THE  CAin^ERBURT  TALES.  13089-13124*

Ful  lefe  were  me  this  conseil  for  to  hide,
But  out  it  mote,  I  may  no  lenger  abide.
Myn  husbond  is  to  me  the  werste  man,
That  ever  was  sith  that  the  world  began:
But  sith  I  am  a  wif,  it  sit  not  me
To  tellen  no  wight  of  our  privetee,
Neither  in  bed,  ne  in  non  other  place ;
God  shUde  I  shulde  it  tellen  for  his  gra<je ;
A  wif  ne  shal  not  sayn  of  hire  husbond
But  all  honour,  as  I  can  understond ;
Save  unto  you  thus  moch  I  tellen  shal :
As  helpe  me  God,  he  is  nought  worth  at  all.
In  no  degree,  the  value  of  a  flie.
But  yet  me  greveth  most  his  nigardie :
And  wel  ye  wot,  that  women  naturally
Desiren  thinges  sixe,  as  wel  as  I.
They  wolden  that  hir  husbondes  shulden  be
Hardy,  and  wise,  and  riche,  and  therto  free.
And  buxome*  to  his  wif,  and  fresh  a-bedde.
But  bv  that  ilke  Lord  that  for  us  bledde,
For  his  honour  myselven  for  to  array,
A  sonday  next  I  muste  nedes  pay
An  hundred  franks,  or  elles  am  I  lome.
Yet  were  me  lever  that  I  were  unbome.
