 | [The Vnluckie Firmentie] |  |
4. The fourth parte.
How Beede in returning to the pot with the Ladle againe, prisoned on of his handes in a Creame pot, & how he did chyde wt his wife till she brake the Ladle on his hed, & won the mastrye of him with the losse of one of her eyes.
Thoughe
Beede his latter laboure lost
His former pleasure, quit that cost
If that had ended all,
But as the Prouerbe doth expresse
To sweete meate, a sowre messe
Of sawce doth often fall.
His former pleasure, quit that cost
If that had ended all,
But as the Prouerbe doth expresse
To sweete meate, a sowre messe
Of sawce doth often fall.
For as I sayde, he dyd not byde
To here the man and wyfe chyde
For that which he had done,
But stale awaye with softe noyce
And dyd not at his lucke reioyce
But made an inwarde mone.
To here the man and wyfe chyde
For that which he had done,
But stale awaye with softe noyce
And dyd not at his lucke reioyce
But made an inwarde mone.
For that he had so euyll sped
Beynge by his folye led
Where he myght shame haue got
And where he on his full gorge,
Sustayned such a sore discharge
Of hote and peryllous shotte
Beynge by his folye led
Where he myght shame haue got
And where he on his full gorge,
Sustayned such a sore discharge
Of hote and peryllous shotte
And when he being thus bestadde
The mylke house founde agayne had
Which longe he mased sought,
The Ladle then he dyd restore
Unto the Pot, from whence before
With Potage he had brought.
The mylke house founde agayne had
Which longe he mased sought,
The Ladle then he dyd restore
Unto the Pot, from whence before
With Potage he had brought.
The Moone had then her perfyte lyght
And showen in at the wyndowe bryght
That opened to the South,
Wherby Beede dyd soone espye
A Erthen pytcher standynge by
Whiche had a mylky mouth.
And showen in at the wyndowe bryght
That opened to the South,
Wherby Beede dyd soone espye
A Erthen pytcher standynge by
Whiche had a mylky mouth.
And as it is a Glottens gyse
That wherupon he settes his eyes
That seemeth meate to be,
His stomacke wyll begyn to gnawe
Tyll parte be in his gredy mawe
Of that his eye doth see.
That wherupon he settes his eyes
That seemeth meate to be,
His stomacke wyll begyn to gnawe
Tyll parte be in his gredy mawe
Of that his eye doth see.
For in the Pot, that there stode
Was sweete Creame thycke and good
Which Beede dyd from the shelfe
Quickely take, and in it pryed
And what it was when he espyed
He laughed to hym selfe.
Was sweete Creame thycke and good
Which Beede dyd from the shelfe
Quickely take, and in it pryed
And what it was when he espyed
He laughed to hym selfe.
Saynge mawgre all ill lucke
He woulde therat haue one plucke
Before he thence dyd passe.
But Spoone coulde he none fynde
And suppynge was not in his mynde
Wherfore he forced was.
He woulde therat haue one plucke
Before he thence dyd passe.
But Spoone coulde he none fynde
And suppynge was not in his mynde
Wherfore he forced was.
Into the pot hys fyst to thrust
To satisfye his gredy lust
And hoggysshe appetyte
But of his fyst the greatnes
And the pottes mouth streatnes
Dyd marre his purpose quite
To satisfye his gredy lust
And hoggysshe appetyte
But of his fyst the greatnes
And the pottes mouth streatnes
Dyd marre his purpose quite
Because throughe hardely goynge in
Ther of, and chafynge of the skyn
Wwich was both harde and tough
The bloude so fast into it fell
That sodaynely it gan to swell
Then had he worke ynoughe
Ther of, and chafynge of the skyn
Wwich was both harde and tough
The bloude so fast into it fell
That sodaynely it gan to swell
Then had he worke ynoughe
For out it woulde not come agayne
Thoughe he and houre full or twayne
Dyd struggle with it sore,
He wrange and wrested, pluckte and haylde
He fret and chafed, curst and raylde
His hap he did deplore.
Thoughe he and houre full or twayne
Dyd struggle with it sore,
He wrange and wrested, pluckte and haylde
He fret and chafed, curst and raylde
His hap he did deplore.
Wysshynge that the tyme and howre
That he from his owne bowre
Proceded lyke a mome,
To se his wynes cosen wed
That he ther with a broken hed
Had kept him selfe at home.
That he from his owne bowre
Proceded lyke a mome,
To se his wynes cosen wed
That he ther with a broken hed
Had kept him selfe at home.
And when he from his bed did ryse
His hungry stomacke to suffyse
To wysshe he nowe begyns
That the Thresholde of the doore,
Had hym tumbled in the floore
And broken both his shynnes.
His hungry stomacke to suffyse
To wysshe he nowe begyns
That the Thresholde of the doore,
Had hym tumbled in the floore
And broken both his shynnes.
His wife that a sleepe had taken
In the meane whyle, was nowe waken
And when her Mate she myst.
In a musynge moode she was
For howe the worlde was come to pas
With hym she lytle wyst.
In the meane whyle, was nowe waken
And when her Mate she myst.
In a musynge moode she was
For howe the worlde was come to pas
With hym she lytle wyst.
Yet thought she, by hys longe taryeng
That there had hapt some miscaryinge
And therfore was in dreede,
For she thought that veryly
He had choked hymselfe with Furmentie
Because he came not to bed.
That there had hapt some miscaryinge
And therfore was in dreede,
For she thought that veryly
He had choked hymselfe with Furmentie
Because he came not to bed.
Up she rose to go looke
The waye to the mylke house she tooke
Where busylye God wot
Her Husbande in his shryt she founde
Barefoote on the colde ground
Wrestlynge with the pot.
The waye to the mylke house she tooke
Where busylye God wot
Her Husbande in his shryt she founde
Barefoote on the colde ground
Wrestlynge with the pot.
Syr (quoth she) what do you meane?
Speake softe (quoth he) noughty queane
The Deuyll plucke out thy tonge
Then softely she agayne dyd saye
What is the matter I you praye
That you haue ben so longe.
Speake softe (quoth he) noughty queane
The Deuyll plucke out thy tonge
Then softely she agayne dyd saye
What is the matter I you praye
That you haue ben so longe.
But he was in such a rage
As one that shulde on a Stage
The parte of Herode playe,
That all in vayne dyd Mawde speake
For he his fume dyd seke to wreake
And then began a fraye.
As one that shulde on a Stage
The parte of Herode playe,
That all in vayne dyd Mawde speake
For he his fume dyd seke to wreake
And then began a fraye.
For a woman as you knowe
Can very ill abyde a blowe
And therfore in her mynde
That Deuyll put it at the last,
The she shulde be no more agast
To folowe all her kynde.
Can very ill abyde a blowe
And therfore in her mynde
That Deuyll put it at the last,
The she shulde be no more agast
To folowe all her kynde.
Which is to paye vsurye
For any kynde of Iniurie,
By men vnto them offerde
And Beede as I vnderstand
A buffet with his emptye hande
To Mawde his wife then proferde
For any kynde of Iniurie,
By men vnto them offerde
And Beede as I vnderstand
A buffet with his emptye hande
To Mawde his wife then proferde
The which she tooke in ill parte
Saynge syr be shrewe thy harte
For (you) was come from home:
If thou do so muche agayne
Thou Loute quoth she I tell the playne
I wyll dresse the lyke a mome.
Saynge syr be shrewe thy harte
For (you) was come from home:
If thou do so muche agayne
Thou Loute quoth she I tell the playne
I wyll dresse the lyke a mome.
What (quoth he) euen playne Loute,
Then is it tyme to looke about
Your tawntynge will I charme
If I coulde from mee discharge
This Creame pot, that I once at large
Myght haue my other arme.
Then is it tyme to looke about
Your tawntynge will I charme
If I coulde from mee discharge
This Creame pot, that I once at large
Myght haue my other arme.
But she lyke a subtill shrewe
His Cowardely Courage well knewe.
And therfore was she bolde
T vomyte out her bytter bane
That all the trayne in Turneagayn lane
Myght there haue learnde to scolde.
His Cowardely Courage well knewe.
And therfore was she bolde
T vomyte out her bytter bane
That all the trayne in Turneagayn lane
Myght there haue learnde to scolde.
Beede layde on with threates amayne
Mawde with tawntes replyed agayne
For a worde, she gaue him fyue,
Bonayre and Buxum was forgot
Then Beede sawe it booted not
Agaynst the streame to stryue
Mawde with tawntes replyed agayne
For a worde, she gaue him fyue,
Bonayre and Buxum was forgot
Then Beede sawe it booted not
Agaynst the streame to stryue
And therwith all he dyd forbeare
His hastie wordes and spake her fayre
Which put her in a Courage
To vse with him such kynde of playe
That after tyll his dyenge daye
He curst his Cosynes Maryage.
His hastie wordes and spake her fayre
Which put her in a Courage
To vse with him such kynde of playe
That after tyll his dyenge daye
He curst his Cosynes Maryage.
For the more that Beede sought
His wife to sylence to haue brought
The lowder styll she crowes,
And whan her powder all was spent
Then vaylyauntly her selfe she bent
To fall to handye blowes.
His wife to sylence to haue brought
The lowder styll she crowes,
And whan her powder all was spent
Then vaylyauntly her selfe she bent
To fall to handye blowes.
But Beedes fortune was so ill
His better hande yet beynge styll
Within the Creame pot fast,
That about his balde noddle
To rap a good the wodden Ladle
His wife was not agast.
His better hande yet beynge styll
Within the Creame pot fast,
That about his balde noddle
To rap a good the wodden Ladle
His wife was not agast.
Cryinge lowde at euery strype
I wyll the teache, thou greedy Grype
Good maner more to knowe,
The man had small defence God wot
Yet now and then with the pot
He warded well her blowe.
I wyll the teache, thou greedy Grype
Good maner more to knowe,
The man had small defence God wot
Yet now and then with the pot
He warded well her blowe.
But she layde one suche lyll,
That he was forst agaynst his wyll
That kynde of warde forgo,
Or els in wylfull dyngynge stroke
The Erthe Pot wolde soone haue broke
And spylde the Creeme also.
That he was forst agaynst his wyll
That kynde of warde forgo,
Or els in wylfull dyngynge stroke
The Erthe Pot wolde soone haue broke
And spylde the Creeme also.
So that the sely man was fayne
Upon the Frontresse of his brayne
To take his wyues blessynge,
Who quyte a sundre on his noule
At lengh dyd breake the Ladle boule
Wherby she caught a dressynge
Upon the Frontresse of his brayne
To take his wyues blessynge,
Who quyte a sundre on his noule
At lengh dyd breake the Ladle boule
Wherby she caught a dressynge
Thoughe a peece that backe dyd flye
And gaue her such a blowe in the eye
That refte therof the syght,
And then to bed she went in payne
With more losse to her then gayne
For all her cunninge fyght.
And gaue her such a blowe in the eye
That refte therof the syght,
And then to bed she went in payne
With more losse to her then gayne
For all her cunninge fyght.
| [The Vnluckie Firmentie] | |