path: root/14282-0.txt

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14282 ***

A mery Dialogue, declaringe the propertyes of shrowde shrewes, and
honest wyues, not onelie verie pleasaunte, but also not a lytle
profitable: made by ye famous clerke D. Erasmus. Roterodamus.
Translated into Englyshe.

A mery Dia-
 logue, declaringe the propertyes
 of shrowde shrewes,
and ho-
 nest wyues, not onelie verie
 pleasaunte, but also not a

lytle profitable: made
 by ye famous clerke
 D. Erasmus.

Roteroda-
 mus.
 
 Translated into
 Englyshe.
 

Anno. M.CCCCC.
 LVII.

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Eulalia. God spede, & a thousand mine old acqueintāce.
xantippa.

xan. As many agayn, my dere hert. Eulalia. me semets ye ar warē
much faire now of late.

Eula. Saye you so? gyue you me a mocke at the first dash.

xan. Nay veryly but I take you so.

Eula. Happely mi new gown maketh me to loke fayrer then I sholde
doe.

xan. Sothe you saye, I haue not sene a mynioner this many dayes, I
reken it Englishe cloth.

Eu. It is english stuff and dyed in Venis.

xan. It is softer then sylke what an oriente purpel colore here is
who gaue you so rich a gift.

Eu. How shoulde honeste women come by their gere? but by their
husbandes.

xā. Happy arte thou that hathe suche an husband, but I wolde
to god for his passyon, that I had maryed an husband of clowts, when I had
maried col my good mā.

Eula. Why say ye so. I pray you, are you at oddes now.

xā. I shal neuer be at one wt him ye se how
beggerly I go. I haue not an hole smock to put on my backe, and he is wel
contente with all: I praye god I neuer come in heuen & I be not
ashamed oftimes to shewe my head, when I se other wiues how net and trim
they go that ar matched with farre porer mē then he is.

Eula. The apparell of honest wiues is not in the aray of the body,
nor in the tirements of their head as saynte Peter the apostle teacheth vs
(and that I learned a late at a sermon) but in good lyuynge and honest
conuersacion and in the ornamentes of the soule, the cōmon buenes ar
painted up, to please manye mennes eies we ar trime ynough yf we please
our husbands only.

xan. But yet my good man so euyll wylling to bestow ought vpon his
wyfe, maketh good chere, and lassheth out the dowrye that hee hadde with
mee no small pot of wine.

Eulaly, where vpon?

xantipha, wheron hym lykethe beste, at the tauerne, at the stewes
and at the dyce.

Eulalia Peace saye not so.

xan. wel yet thus it is, then when he cōmeth home to me at
midnight, longe watched for, he lyeth rowtyng lyke a sloyne all the leue
longe nyght, yea and now and thē he all bespeweth his bed, and worse
then I will say at this tyme.

Eulali. Peace thou dyshonesteth thy self, when thou doest
dishonesteth thy husbād.

xantip. The deuyl take me bodye and bones but I had leuer lye by a
sow with pigges, then with suche a bedfelowe.

Eulali. Doest thou not then take him vp, wel favoredly for stūbling.

Xantip. As he deserueth I spare no tonge.

Eulalia. what doth he thē.

xantip. At the first breake he toke me vp vengeably, trusting that
he shoulde haue shakē me of and put me to scilence with his crabid
wordes.

Eula Came neuer your hote wordes vnto hādstrokes.

xantip. On a tyme we fel so farre at wordes yt we wer
almost by ye eares togither.

Eula what say you womā?

xan. He toke vp a staffe wandryng at me, as the deuill had bene on
hym ready to laye me on the bones.

Eula. were thou not redye to ron in at the bēch hole.

xanti. Nay mary I warrant the. I gat me a thre foted stole in hand,
& he had but ones layd his littell finger on me, he shulde not haue
founde me lame. I woulde haue holden his nose to the grindstōe

Eulalia. A newe found shelde, ye wanted but youre dystaffe to haue
made you a speare.

xantip. And he shoulde not greatlye a laughed at his parte.

Eulali. Ah my frynde. xantyppa. that way is neither good nor godly,

xantippa what is neither good nor godly. yf he wyll not vse me, as
hys wyfe: I wil not take him for my husbande.

Eulalya. But Paule sayeth that wyues shoulde bee boner and buxome
vnto their husbandes with all humylytye, and Peter also bryngethe vs an
example of Sara, that called her husbande Abrahame, Lorde.

xantippa. I know that as well as you thē ye same
paule say that men shoulde loue theyr wyues, as Christ loues his spouse
the churche let him do his duete I wil do myne.

Eula. But for all that, when the matter is so farre that the one
muste forber the other it is reason that the woman giue place vnto the
man,

xan. Is he meete to be called my husbāde that maketh me his
vnderlynge and his dryuel?

Eula. But tel me dame xātip. Would he neuer offre the stripes
after that

xātip. Not a stripe, and therin he was the wyser man for &
he had he should haue repented euery vayne in hys harte.

Eulali. But thou offered him foule wordes plentie,

xantip. And will do.

Eula. What doth he ye meane seasō.

xantip. What doth he sometyme cowcheth an hogeshed, somtime he doth
nothing but stande and laughe at me, other whyle takethe hys Lute wheron
is scarslie three strynges layenge on that as fast as he may dryue because
he would not here me.

Eula. Doeth that greue thee?

xantippa. To beyonde home, manie a tyme I haue much a do to hold my
handes.

Eula. Neighbour. xantip. wylt thou gyue me leaue to be playn with
the.

xantippa Good leaue haue you.

Eula. Be as bolde on me agayne our olde acquayntaunce and amite,
euen frō our chyldhode, would it should be so.

xantippa. Trueth you saie, there was neuer woman kinde that I
fauoured more

Elaly Whatsoeuer thy husbād be, marke well this, chaunge thou
canst not, In the olde lawe, where the deuill hadde cast aboone betwene
the man and the wife, at the worste waye they myght be deuorsed, but now
that remedie is past, euē till death depart you he must nedes be thy
husbande, and thou hys wyfe,

xan. Il mote they thryue & thei that taken away that liberty
from vs

Eulalia. Beware what thou sayest, it was christes act.

Xā. I can euil beleue that

Eula. It is none otherwyse, now it is beste that eyther of you one
beyng with an other, ye laboure to liue at reste and peace.

xantyppa. Why? can I forgeue him a new,

Eu. It lieth great parte in the womē, for the orderinge of
theyr husbandes.

xan. Leadest thou a mery life with thine.

Eula Now all is well.

xan. Ergo ther was somwhat to do at your fyrste metying

Eula. Neuer no greate busynes, but yet as it, happeneth now and
than betwene man & womā, there was foule cloudes a loft, that
might haue made a storme but that they were ouer blowen with good
humanitie and wyse handlynge. Euery man hath hys maner and euery mā
hath his seueral aptite or mynde, and thinkes hys owne way best, & yf
we list not to lie there liueth no mā without faulte, which yf anie
were elles, ywis in wedlocke they ought to know and not vtterly hated

xan, you say well,

Eulalya. It happeneth many times that loue dayes breketh betwene
man and wife, before ye one be perfitly knowē vnto the
other beware of that in any wife, for when malice is ones begon, loue is
but barely redressed agayne, namely, yf the mater grow furthe unto bytter
checkes, & shamfull raylinges such things as are fastened with glew,
yf a manne wyll all to shake them strayght waye whyle the glew is warme,
they soone fal in peces, but after ye glew is ones dried vp
they cleue togither so fast as anie thing, wherefore at the beginning a
meanes must be made, that loue mai encrease and be made sure betwene ye
man & the wife, & that is best brought aboute by gentilnesse and
fayre condycions, for the loue that beautie onelie causeth, is in a maner
but a cheri faire

Xan. But I praye you hartelye tell me, by what pollycy ye brought your
good man to folow your daunce.

Eula. I wyll tell you on this condicyon, that ye will folowe me.

xan. I can.

Eula, It is as easy as water if ye cā find in your hart to do
it, nor yet no good time past for he is a yong mā, and you ar but
agirle of age, and I trowe it is not a yere ful sins ye wer maried.

Xā All thys is true

Eulalia. I wyll shew you then. But you must kepe it secret

xantip. with a ryght good wyl.

Eula. This was my chyefe care, to kepe me alwayes in my housbandes
fauoure, that there shulde nothyng angre him I obserued his appetite and
pleasure I marked the tymes bothe whan he woulde be pleased and when he
wold be all byshrwed, as they tameth the Elephantes and Lyons or suche
beastes that can not be wonne by strēgth

xantyppa. Suche a beaste haue I at home.

Eula. Thei that goth vnto the Elephantes weare no white garmentes,
nor they that tame wylde bulles, weare no blasynge reedes, for experience
teacheth, that suche beastes bee madde with those colours, like as the
Tygers by the sound of tumbrels be made so wode, that thei plucke
theymself in peces. Also thei yt breake horses haue their
termes and theyr soundes theyr hadlynges, and other knackes to breake
their wyldnes, wyth all. Howe much more then is it oure duetyes that ye
wyues to use suche craftes toward our husbandes with whō all our lyfe
tyme wil we, nyl we is one house, and one bed.

xantip. furthwith your tale.

Eula, whē I had ones marked there thynges. I applied my selfe
unto hym, well ware not to displease him.

xantip. How could thou do that.

Eulalya. Fyrste in the ouerseynge my householde, which is the very
charge and cure of wyues, I wayted euer, not onely gyuynge hede that
nothing shoulde be forgotten or undoone, but that althynges should be as
he woulde haue it, wer it euer so small a trifle.

xā. wherin.

Eulalia. As thus. Yf mi good man had a fantasye to this thynge, or
to that thyng, or if he would haue his meate dressed on this fashion, or
that fashion.

xan. But howe couldest thou fashyon thye selfe after hys wyll and
mynde, that eyther woulde not be at home or elles be as freshe as a saulte
heryng.

Elali. Abyde a while. I come not at that yet, yf my husband wer
very sad at anye tyme, no time to speake to him. I laughed not nor tryfled
him as many a woman doth but I looked rufully and heauyly, for as a glasse
(if it be a true stone) representeth euer ye physnamy of hym
that loketh in it, so lykewyse it becommeth a wedded woman alway to agre
vnto the appetite of her husbande, that she be not mery whē he
murneth, nor dysposed to play whē he is sad. And if that at any time
he be waiward shrewshaken, either I pacyfye hym with faire wordes, or I
let hym alone, vntyll the wynd be ouerblowen gyuing him neuer a word at
al, vntil the time come that I may eyther excuse my faute, or tell hym of
hys. In lyke wyse when he commeth home wel whitled, I gyue hym gentyll and
fayre woordes, so with fayre entreatynge I gette hym to bed.

xantyppa, O careful state of wyues, whē they muste be gladde
and fayne to followe their husbandes mindes, be thei eluyshe, dronken, or
doying what myschiefe they liste.

Eula. As whoe saieth this gentill dealynge serueth not for bothe
partyes, for they spyte of theyr berdes muste suffre many thynges in our
demeanor, yet a time ther is, whē in a weighty matter it is laufull
that the wyfe tell the good mā his faute, if that it be matter of
substaunce, for at lyght trifles, it is best to play byll under wynge.

xantyp. what tune is that

Eula. when he is ydle, neither angry, pensife, nor ouersen, then
betwixt you two secretly he must be told his faute gētly, or rather
intreated, that in this thynge or that he play the better husbande to loke
better to his good name and fame and to his helth and this tellyng must be
myxt with mery conceites and pleasaunt wordes many times I make a meane to
tel my tale after this fashyon, that he shall promise me, he shal take no
displeasure wyth my thynge, that I a foolyshe woman shall breake vnto hym,
that pertayneth eyther to hys helthe worshyppe or welth. When I haue sayde
that I woulde, I chop cleane from that communication and falle into some
other pastime, for this is all our fautes, neyghbour Xantippa, that whē
we begyn ones to chat our tounges neuer lie.

Xantip. So men say

Eulalia. Thus was I well ware on, that I neuer tell my husbād
his fautes before companie, nor I neuer caried any cōplaynte furthe a
dores: the mendes is soner made whē none knoweth it but two, and
there were anie suche faute that myght not be wel borne nor amēded by
ye wyues tellige, it is more laudable that the wife make
complaynte vnto the Parentes and kynsfolke of her husband, then vnto her
own, and so to moderate her complaynte that she seme not to hate hym but
hys vice nor let her play all the blabbe, that in some poynt vnutered, he
may know & loue his wiues curteysy.

Xantip. She had nede be aswellerned womā, that would do all
this.

Eu. Mary through suche demeanoure, we shall sterre our husbādes
vnto lyke gentylnesse.

Xan: There be some that cannot be amended with all the gentyll
handlynge in the worlde.

Eula: In faith I thyncke nay, but case there be, marke this wel the
good man must be for borne, howe soeuer the game goeth, then is it better
to haue him alwayes at one point or ells more kinde and louing throw oure
gentill handlinge, then to haue him worse and worse throwe our
cursednesse, what wyll you say and I tell you of husbādes that hath
won theyr wiues by suche curtesie, howe muche more are we boūde to
use the same towarde our husbandes.

Xantip. Than shall you tell of one farre vnlyke vnto thyne husband.

Eula. I am aquented with a certayne gentelman well lerned and a
veri honest man, he maried a yonge wyfe, a mayden of. xvii. yeare olde
brede and brought vp of a chylde in the countre vnder her fathers and
mother wing (as gentilmen delite to dwel in the countre) to hunt &
hawke This yong gētilman would haue one that were unbrokē,
because he might the soner breake her after hys owne mind, he begā to
entre her in learning syngynge, and playinge, and by lytle and lytle to
vse here to repete suche thynges as she harde at sermons, and to instruct
her with other things that myght haue doone her more good in time to come.
This gere, because it was straūge vnto this young womā which at
home was brought vp in all ydelnesse, and with the light communication of
her fathers seruantes, and other pastimes, begā to waxe greuouse
& paynfull, vnto her. She withdrew her good mynde and dylygence and whē
her husband called vpon her she put ye finger in the eye, and
wepte and many times she would fal downe on the grounde, beatynge her head
agaynst the floure, as one that woulde be out of thys worlde. When there
was no healpe for this gere, the good man as though he hadde bene wel
asked his wyfe yf she woulde ryde into the countre with him a sporting
vnto her fathers house, so that she graunted anone. When they were cōmē
thyther, the gentilman left his wyfe with her mother & her sisters he
wēt furth an huntynge with his father in lawe, there betwene theym
two, he shewed al together, how that he hadde hoped to haue had a louynge
companion to lead his lyfe withall, now he hath one that is alwaies
blubberynge and pyninge her selfe awaye withoute anye remedie, he prayeth
him to lay to hys hande in amendinge his doughters fautes her father
answered yt he had ones giuen hym his doughter, and yf that she
woulde not be rewled by wordes (a goddes name take Stafforde lawe) she was
his owne. Then the gētylman sayd agayne, I know that I may do but I
had leuer haue her amēded eyther by youre good counsell or
commaundement, then to come vnto that extreme waies, her father promised
that he would fynde a remedye. After a dai or two, he espied time and
place whē he might be alone with his doughter. Then he loked soureli
vpō his doughter, as though he had bene horne woode with her, he
began to reherse how foule a beaste she was, how he feared many tymes that
she neuer haue bestowed her. And yet sayde he much a doe, vnto my great
coste and charg, I haue gottē the one that moughte lye by any Ladyes
syde, and she were a quene and yet thou not perceiuying what I haue done
for the nor knowynge that thou hast suche a man whiche but of his goodnes
myghte thynke thee to euill to be stoye in his kytchen, thou contrariest
al his mind to make a short tale he spake so sharpely to her, that she
feared that he wold haue beaten her. It is a man of asubtyll and wylye
wytte, whyche wythout a vysarde is ready to playe anye maner of parte. Thē
this yonge wife what for feare, and for trouthe of the matter, cleane
stryken oute of countenaunce, fell downe at her fathers fete desyryng hym
that he wolde forgette and forgiue her all that was past and euer after
she woulde doe her duetye Her father forgaue her, and promised that she
shoulde finde him a kynd and a louynge father, yf so be that she
perfourmed her promyse.

xantippa. How dyd she afterwarde?

Eulalya, whē she was departed frō her father she came
backe into a chaumber, and there by chaunce found her husband alone she
fel on her knees to hym and said. Mā in tymes paste, I neyther knewe
you nor my selfe, from this daye froward ye shall se me cleane chaunged,
onelye pardon that is past, with that her husbande toke her in his armes
& kyssed her sayinge she should lacke nothyng yf she woulde holde her
in that mind.

xantip. Why did she cōtinue so.

Eulalya. Euen tyll her endynge daye, nor there was none so vyle a
thynge but that she woulde laye handes on it redely with all her herte, if
her husband wolde let her, so great loue was begō and assured betwene
them and many a daye after, shee thanked god yt euer she met
with such a mā. For yf she had not she sayd she had ben cleane caste
awaye.

xan. We haue as greate plentie of suche housbandes, as of white
crowes.

Eulalya. Now, but for werieng you? I coulde tell you a thynge that
chaunced a late in this same citye.

xantyppa. I haue litell to doe, and I lyke your communicacyon very
well.

Eulalia. There was a certaine gentilmā he as suche sort of men
do, vsed much huntyng in the cuntre, where he happened on a younge
damoysell, a very pore womās child on whō he doted a man well
stryken in age, and for her sake he lay oftē out of his owne house
his excuse was hūtîg. This mās wife an exceding honest womā,
halfe deale suspecte the mater, tried out her husbandes falshed, on a tyme
whē he had taken his iourney fourth of the town vnto some other
waies, she wente vnto that poore cotage and boulted out all the hoole
matter, where he laye on nights, wheron he drāke, what thyng thei had
to welcō him withall. There was neither one thyng nor other, but bare
walles. This good womā returned home, and sone after came againe
brynginge wt her a good soft bed, and al therto belongyng and
certain plate besydes that she gaue them moneye, chargynge them that if
the Gentilmā came agayne, they shold entreate him better not beyng
knowē al this while that she was his wyfe, but fayued her to be her
sister. Not long after her husband stale thether againe, he sawe the howse
otherwyse decked, and better fare then he was wounte to haue. He asked,
frome whence commeth al this goodly gere? They sayde that an honeste
matrone, a kynsewoman of hys hadde broughte it thyther and commaunded
thenm that he should be well cherished when so euer he came, by and by his
hart gaue him that it was hys wiues dede, whan he came home he demaūded
of her yf she hadde bene there or nay, she sayd yea. Then he asked her for
what purpose she sente all that housholde stuffe thyther. Man (said she)
ye haue bē tenderly brought vp. I perceiued that ye were but corslie
handled there, me thought that it was my part, seing it was your wyll and
pleasure to be there ye shoulde be better loked to.

Xantippa. She was one of goddes fooles. I woulde rather for a bed
haue layd vnder him a bundel of nettels: or a burden of thistels.

Eula. But here the end her husbande perceyuyng the honeste of her
great pacience neuer after laye from her, but made good cheare at home
with his owne. I am sure ye knowe Gilberte the holāder.

Xan. Very well.

Eu. He (as it is not vnknowē maried an old wife in his florishîg
youth.

Xā. Per aduēture he maried the good and notthe woman.

Eulalia. There sayde ye well, setting lytell stoore by hys olde
wife, hunted a callette, with whom he kept much companie abrode, he dined
or supped litell at home. What wouldest thou haue sayd to ye
gere.

Xantip. What woulde I a said? I wolde haue flowē to the hores
toppe and I wolde haue crowned myne husbande at hys oute goinge to her
with a pysbowle,that he so ēbawlmed might haue gon vnto his souerayne
ladie.

Eula. But how much wiselier dyd this woman? She desyred that yonge
woman home vnto her, and made her good chere, so by that meanes she
brought home also her husband without ani witchraft or sorserie, and yf
that at anye season he supped abrode with her she would sende vnto them
some good dayntie morsel, and byd him make good chere

Xantippa. I had leuer be slayne then I woulde be bawde vnto myne
owne husbande.

Eulalia. Yea, but consyder all thynges well, was not that muche
better, then she shoulde be her shrewyshnesse, haue putte her husbandes
minde cleane of from her, and so haue ledde all her life in trouble and
heuynesse.

Xantippa. I graunte you well, that it was better so but I coulde
not abyde it.

Eulalya. I wyll tell you a prety story more, and so make an ende
One of oure neyghboures, a well disposed and a goddes man, but that he is
some what testie, on a day pomeld his wife well and thriftely aboute the
pate and so good a woman as euer was borne, she picked her into an inner
parler, and there weepynge and sobbynge, eased her heuye harte, anone
after, by chaunce her husbande came into the same place, and founde hys
wyfe wepyng. What sitest thou heare sayth he seighing & sobbîg
like a child Thē she like a wise woman sayde. Is it not more honesty
for me to lamente my dolours here in a secret place, thē to make
wondering and on oute crye in the strete, as other womē do. At so
wyfely and womanly a saing his hart melted, promysynge her faythfullye and
truelie that he woulde neuer laye stroke on her afterwarde, nor neuer did.

Xantippa. No more wil mine god thanke my selfe.

Eulalya. But then ye are alwaies one at a nother, agreinge lyke
dogges and cattes.

Xan. What wouldest thou that I should do?

Eu. Fyrst & formest, whatsoeuer thy husbande doeth sayde thou
nothinge, for his harte must be wonne by lytell and litel by fayre meanes,
gentilnesse and forbearing at the last thou shalte eyther wynne him or at
the least waie thou shalt leade a better life thē thou doest now.

Xantippa. He his beyonde goddes forbode, he wil neuer amende.

Eulalia. Eye saye not so, there is no beest so wild but by fayre
handling be tamed, neuer mistrust man thē. Assay a moneth or two,
blame me and thou findest not that my counsell dooeth ease. There be some
fautes wyth you thoughe thou se them, be wyse of this especyall that thou
neuer gyue hym foule wordes in the chambre, or inbed but be sure that all
thynges there bee full of pastyme and pleasure. For yf that place which is
ordeined to make amēdes for all fautes and so to renew loue, be
polluted, eyther with strife or grugynges, then fayre wel al hope of loue
daies, or atonementes, yet there be some beastes so wayward and
mischeuous, that when theyr husbandes hath them in their arms a bed, they
scholde & chyde making yt same plesure their lewd
condicions (that expelseth all displeasures oute of their husbandes mynde
unpleasaunt and lytell set bi corrupting the medecine that shuld haue
cured al deadly greifes, & odible offēces.

xantip. That is no newes to me.

Eula. Though the woman shulde be well ware and wyse that she shulde
neuer be disobedient vnto her husbād yet she ought to be most circūspect
that at meting she shew her selfe redy and pleasaunt unto him.

xantyppa. Yea vnto a man, holde well withall but I am combred with
a beast.

Eula. No more of those wordes, most commonly our husbādes ar
euyll through our owne faute, but to returne againe vnto our taile they
that ar sene in the olde fables of Poetes sai that Venus whome they make
chiefe lady of wedlocke (hath a girdle made by the handy worke of Vulcan
her Lorde, and in that is thrust al that enforceth love and with that she
girdeth her whan so ever she lyeth wyth her housbande

xantippa. A tale of a tubbe.

Eulalya. A tayle it is, but herkē what the taile meaneth.

xantippa. Tell me.

Eulalia That techeth us that the wyfe ought to dyspose her selfe
all the she maye that lieng by her husbād she shew him al the plesure
that she cā; Wherby the honest love of matrimony may reuiue and be
renewed, & that there with be clene dispatched al grudges & malice

xant. But how shall we come by the thys gyrdle?

Eula. We nede neyther wytchraft nor enchauntment, ther is non of
them al, so sure as honest condiciōs accompayned with good feloshyp.

xan. I can not fauoure suche an husbande as myne is.

Eula, It is moste thy profyt that he be no longer suche. If thou
couldest by thy Circes craft chaunge thin husband into an hogge, or a bore
wouldest thou do it?

xantip. God knoweth.

Eu. Art thou in dout? haddest thou leauer marye an hogge than a mā.

Xantip. Mary I had leauer haue a manne.

Eulalia. wel, what and thou coudest by sorcery make him of a drōkarde
a soober man, of a vnthrifte a good housbande of an ydell losell a towarde
body, woldest thou not doe it?

xantip. yes, hardely, woulde I doe it. But where shoulde I learne
the cunnyng?

Eula. For soth that cōning hast thou in the if thou wouldest
vtter it, thyn must he be, mauger thy head, the towarde ye
makest him, the better it is for the, thou lokest on nothing but on his
leude cōdicions, and thei make the half mad, thou wouldest amende hym
and thou puttest hym farther oute of frame, loke rather on his good
condicions, and so shalt thou make him better. It is to late calagayne
yesterdaie before thou were maryed unto hym. It was tyme to cōsyder
what his fautes were for a women shold not only take her husbande by the
eyes but by the eares. Now it is more tyme to redresse fautes thē to
fynd fautes.

xantt. What woman euer toke her gusband by the eares.

Eulali. She taketh her husbande by the eyes that loketh on nothyng,
but on the beautye and pulcritude of the body. She taketh him by the
eares, that harkeneth diligētly what the common voice sayth by him

xantip. Thy counsaile is good, but it commeth a day after the
faire.

Eula. Yet it commeth time ynough to bringe thyne husbande to a
greate furtheraunce to that shall bee yf God sende you anie frute
togither.

xantippa. We are spede alredy of that.

Eulaly. How long ago.

Xantip. A good whyle ago

Eulalia. How many monethes old is it.

Xantip. It lacketh lytle of. vii.

Eula What a tale is this, ye reken the monethes by nightes and
dayes double.

Xantippa. Not so.

Eula. It can not be none other wyse, yf ye reken from the mariage
day.

xantippa. yea, but what thē, I spake with him before we were
maried.

Eulalia. Be children gotten by speakinge.

xantip. It befell so that he mette me alone and begon to ticke at
me, and tickled me vnder the arme holes and sydes to make me laugh. I
might not awaie with ticklynge, but fell downe backewarde vpon a bedde and
he a lofte, neuer leuinge kyssynge on me, what he did els I can not saye,
but by sayncte Marie within a while after my bely beganne to swell.

Eula. Go now and disprayse thine husbāde whiche yf he gette
children by playe, what wyll he do whē he goeth to it in good ernest.

xantippa, I fere me I am payed agayin.

Eula. Good locke God hath sent a fruitfull grounde, a good tylmā.

Xantip. In that thing he might haue lesse laboure and more thanke.

Eula. Few wyues finde at theyr husbandes in that behalf but were ye
thē sure togither.

xanti. yea that we were

Eula. The offence is the lesse. Is it a man chylde.

xantip. yea.

Eula. He shal make you at one so that ye wil bow & forbere.
What saieth other mē by thin husband, they that be his cōpanions,
they delite with him abrode

xā, They say that he is meruelous gentyl, redy to do euery man
pleasure, liberal and sure to his frende.

Eula. And that putteth me in good cōfort that he wyll be ruled
after our counsayll.

xantip. But I fynde him not so.

Eula. Order thy selfe to him as I haue tolde thee, and cal me no
more true sayer but a lier, if he be not so good vnto the as to anie
creature liuinge Again cōsidre this he is yet but a childe, I thinke
he passethe not. xxiiij. the blacke oxe neuer trode on hys fote, nowe it
is but loste laboure to recken vpon anye deuorse.

xantippa. Yet manye a tyme and ofte I haue troubled my braynes
withal

Eulalia. As for that fantasye whensoeuer it commeth into your mynd
first of all counte how naked a thynge woman is, deuorsed from man. It is
the hyghest dignitie that longethe to the wyfe to obsequyous vnto her
spouse. So hath natyre ordeined so god hath appoynted, that the woman
shoulde be ruled al by the man loke onely vppon this whiche is trouth,
thine husbande he is, other canste thou none haue. Againe forgette not
that swete babe be gotten of both your bodies what thin beste thou to do
with that, wilte thou take it awaye with thee? Thou shalte bereue thyne
husband his ryght wylt thou leue it with hym? thou shalt spoile thy self
of thy chefeste Jewell thou haste. Beside all this tell me trueth hast
thou none euyll wyllers, Besyde all thys tell me trueth, hast thou none
euyll wyllers.

xan. I haue a stepdame I warrant you, and myne husbandes mother
euen such another.

Eula. Do they hate the so deadly.

xantip. They woulde se me hanged.

Eula. Thē forget not thē what greater plesure couldest
thou shew them then to se the deuorsed from thine husband and to led a
wydowes lyfe. Yea and worse thē a wydow, for wydowes be at their
choise.

xantippa. I holde well with youre coūsell, but I can not awaye
with the paynes.

Eulalia. yet recken what paines ye toke or ye colde teache your
paret to speake.

xantippa. Exceadynge much.

Eu. And thinke you much to labour a lytel in reforming your husbād
with whō you may liue merely all the dayes of your lyfe. What busines
doe mē put thē self to be wel & easly horsed & shal we
think our selues to good to take paines that we mai haue our husbādes
gētil & curteise vnto vs.

xantip. What shal I do.

Eu. I haue told you al redy, se that al thing be clene & trim
at home, that no sluttysh or vnclenlye syghtes dryue hym oute a dores. Be
your selfe alwayes redy at a becke, berynge continuali in minde what reuerēce
the wife oweth vnto her husbād. Be neyther in your dūpes, nor
alwayes on your mery pinnes go nether to homely nor to nycely. Let your
meat be cleane dressed, you know yourhusbādes diet. What he loueth
best that dresse. Moreouer shewe your selfe louinge and fayre spokē
vnto thē where he loueth, call them now and thē vnto your table.
At meate, se that al thinges be well sauored, and make good there, And whē
that he is toppe heuy playing on his lute, sytte thou by and singe to him
so shalte thou make hym keepe home, and lessen hys expences This shall he
thynke at length, in faythe I am a fonde felowe that maketh suche chere
with a strumpet abroode with greate lossee bothe of substance and name,
seyng that I haue a wyfe at home bothe muche fayrer, and one that loueth
me ten times better, with whome I may be both clenlyer receiued and
dayntelier cherisshed

xantip. Beleuest thou that it will take and I put it into a profe.

Eulali. Looke on me. I warrante it or ought longe I wyll in hande
with thyne husbande, & I will tell hym his part.

xantippa. ye marie that is well sayde. But be wyse that he espie
not our casle, he would plaie his fages, all the house should be to lytle
for hym.

Eulalia. Take no thoughte. I shall so conuey my matters, that he
shall dysclose all together hym selfe, what busynesse is betwene you, that
done I wyll handell him pretelie as I thinke beste, and I truste to make
him a new man for the and when I se my time I wyl make a lie for thee, how
louinge thou hast spoken of him.

xantippa. Chryst spede vs and bringe our pupose well aboute.

Eulalia. He will not fayle the so thou do thy good wyll.

There was a man that maried a woman whiche hadde great riches and beawtye.
Howe bee it she hadde suche an impedyment of nature that she was domme and
coulde not speake, whiche thynge made him ryghte pensyfe, and sayd,
wherfore vpon a daye as he walked alone ryght heuye in hearte thynkynge
vpon his wyfe. There came one to hym and asked him what was the cause of
his heuynesse whiche answered that it was onely bycause his wife was borne
dōme. To whome this other said I shal shewe the soone a remedy and a
medicyne (therfore that is thus) go tak an aspen leafe and lay it vnder
her tōge this night shee beinge a sleape, and I warrant the that shee
shall speake on the morowe whiche man beyng glad of thys medycyne prepared
therfore and gathered aspen leaues, wherfore he layd thre of them vnder
her tonge whan shee was a sleape. And on the morow when he him selfe
awaked he Desyrous to know how hys medicine wrought being in bed with her,
he demaunded of her how she did, and sodēly she answered and sayd, I
beshrewe thy harte for waking me so early, and so by the vertue of that
medycyne she was restored to her speche. But in cōclusion her spech
encresed day by day and she was so curst of cōdycyon that euery daie
she brauled and chyd with her husbande, so muche at the laste he was more
weped, and had much more trouble and disease wyth her shrewed wordes then
he hadde before whē she was dumme, wherfore as he walked another time
alone he happened to mete agayne with the same personne that taught hym
the sayde medycine and sayde to hym thys wyse. Syr ye taught me a medicin
but late to make my domme wyfe to speake, byddynge me lay an aspen leafe
vnder her toūg when she sleapte, and I layde three Aspen leaves
there. Wherfore nowe she speaketh. But yet she speaketh soo much & so
shrewdlye that I am more werier of her now, then I was when she was dōme:
Wherfore I praie you teache me a medycine to modyfye her that she speake
not so muche. This other answered and sayd thus. Sir I am a deuyl of hel
but I am one of thē that haue least power there. Al be yet I haue
power to make a womā to speake, but and yf a woman begin ones to
speake, I nor al the deuyls in hel that haue the mooste power be not able
to make a woman to be styll, nor to cause her to leue speakyng.

The end of this pleasant dialogue declaryng the seueral properties of ye
two contrary disposers of the wyues aforesayde.

Imprinted at London in Paules
 church yearde, at the sygne of
 the
Sunne, by Antony
 Kytson.




 [This section produced by David Widger]


A mery Dialogue, declaringe the propertyes of shrowde shrewes, and
honest wyues, not onelie verie pleasaunte, but also not a lytle
profitable: made by ye famous clerke D. Erasmus. Roterodamus.
Translated into Englyshe.

A mery Dia-
 logue, declaringe the propertyes
 of shrowde shrewes,
and ho-
 nest wyues, not onelie verie
 pleasaunte, but also not a

lytle profitable: made
 by ye famous clerke
 D. Erasmus.

Roteroda-
 mus.
 
 Translated into
 Englyshe.
 

Anno. M.CCCCC.
 LVII.

    Return to the first section without the original page images


[Illustration]

Eulalia. God spede, & a thousand mine old acqueintāce.
xantippa.

xan. As many agayn, my dere hert. Eulalia. me semets ye ar
warē much faire now of late.

Eula. Saye you so? gyue you me a mocke at the first dash.

xan. Nay veryly but I take you so.

Eula. Happely mi new gown maketh me to loke fayrer then I
sholde doe.

xan. Sothe you saye, I haue not sene a mynioner this many
dayes, I reken it Englishe cloth.

Eu. It is english stuff and dyed in Venis.

xan. It is softer then sylke what an oriente purpel colore
here is who gaue you so rich a gift.

Eu. How shoulde honeste women come by their gere? but by
their husbandes.

xā. Happy arte thou that hathe suche an husband, but I
wolde to god for his passyon, that I had maryed an husband of
clowts, when I had maried col my good mā.

Eula. Why say ye so. I pray you, are you at oddes now.

[Illustration]

xā. I shal neuer be at one wt him ye se how
beggerly I go. I haue not an hole smock to put on my backe, and he
is wel contente with all: I praye god I neuer come in heuen & I
be not ashamed oftimes to shewe my head, when I se other wiues how
net and trim they go that ar matched with farre porer mē then
he is.

Eula. The apparell of honest wiues is not in the aray of the
body, nor in the tirements of their head as saynte Peter the apostle
teacheth vs (and that I learned a late at a sermon) but in good
lyuynge and honest conuersacion and in the ornamentes of the soule,
the cōmon buenes ar painted up, to please manye mennes eies we
ar trime ynough yf we please our husbands only.

xan. But yet my good man so euyll wylling to bestow ought
vpon his wyfe, maketh good chere, and lassheth out the dowrye that
hee hadde with mee no small pot of wine.

Eulaly, where vpon?

xantipha, wheron hym lykethe beste, at the tauerne, at the
stewes and at the dyce.

[Illustration]

Eulalia Peace saye not so.

xan. wel yet thus it is, then when he cōmeth home to me
at midnight, longe watched for, he lyeth rowtyng lyke a sloyne all
the leue longe nyght, yea and now and thē he all bespeweth his
bed, and worse then I will say at this tyme.

Eulali. Peace thou dyshonesteth thy self, when thou doest
dishonesteth thy husbād.

xantip. The deuyl take me bodye and bones but I had leuer lye
by a sow with pigges, then with suche a bedfelowe.

Eulali. Doest thou not then take him vp, wel favoredly for stūbling.

Xantip. As he deserueth I spare no tonge.

Eulalia. what doth he thē.

xantip. At the first breake he toke me vp vengeably, trusting
that he shoulde haue shakē me of and put me to scilence with
his crabid wordes.

Eula Came neuer your hote wordes vnto hādstrokes.

xantip. On a tyme we fel so farre at wordes yt we
wer almost by ye eares togither.

Eula what say you womā?

xan. He toke vp a staffe wandryng at me, as the deuill had
bene on hym ready to laye me on the bones.

[Illustration]

Eula. were thou not redye to ron in at the bēch hole.

xanti. Nay mary I warrant the. I gat me a thre foted stole in
hand, & he had but ones layd his littell finger on me, he shulde
not haue founde me lame. I woulde haue holden his nose to the
grindstōe

Eulalia. A newe found shelde, ye wanted but youre dystaffe to
haue made you a speare.

xantip. And he shoulde not greatlye a laughed at his parte.

Eulali. Ah my frynde. xantyppa. that way is neither good nor
godly,

xantippa what is neither good nor godly. yf he wyll not vse
me, as hys wyfe: I wil not take him for my husbande.

Eulalya. But Paule sayeth that wyues shoulde bee boner and
buxome vnto their husbandes with all humylytye, and Peter also
bryngethe vs an example of Sara, that called her husbande Abrahame,
Lorde.

[Illustration]

xantippa. I know that as well as you thē ye
same paule say that men shoulde loue theyr wyues, as Christ loues
his spouse the churche let him do his duete I wil do myne.

Eula. But for all that, when the matter is so farre that the
one muste forber the other it is reason that the woman giue place
vnto the man,

xan. Is he meete to be called my husbāde that maketh me
his vnderlynge and his dryuel?

Eula. But tel me dame xātip. Would he neuer offre the
stripes after that

xātip. Not a stripe, and therin he was the wyser man for
& he had he should haue repented euery vayne in hys harte.

Eulali. But thou offered him foule wordes plentie,

xantip. And will do.

Eula. What doth he ye meane seasō.

xantip. What doth he sometyme cowcheth an hogeshed, somtime
he doth nothing but stande and laughe at me, other whyle takethe hys
Lute wheron is scarslie three strynges layenge on that as fast as he
may dryue because he would not here me.

Eula. Doeth that greue thee?

xantippa. To beyonde home, manie a tyme I haue much a do to
hold my handes.

[Illustration]

Eula. Neighbour. xantip. wylt thou gyue me leaue to be playn
with the.

xantippa Good leaue haue you.

Eula. Be as bolde on me agayne our olde acquayntaunce and
amite, euen frō our chyldhode, would it should be so.

xantippa. Trueth you saie, there was neuer woman kinde that I
fauoured more

Elaly Whatsoeuer thy husbād be, marke well this, chaunge
thou canst not, In the olde lawe, where the deuill hadde cast aboone
betwene the man and the wife, at the worste waye they myght be
deuorsed, but now that remedie is past, euē till death depart
you he must nedes be thy husbande, and thou hys wyfe,

xan. Il mote they thryue & thei that taken away that
liberty from vs

Eulalia. Beware what thou sayest, it was christes act.

Xā. I can euil beleue that

Eula. It is none otherwyse, now it is beste that eyther of
you one beyng with an other, ye laboure to liue at reste and peace.

[Illustration]

xantyppa. Why? can I forgeue him a new,

Eu. It lieth great parte in the womē, for the orderinge
of theyr husbandes.

xan. Leadest thou a mery life with thine.

Eula Now all is well.

xan. Ergo ther was somwhat to do at your fyrste metying

Eula. Neuer no greate busynes, but yet as it, happeneth now
and than betwene man & womā, there was foule cloudes a
loft, that might haue made a storme but that they were ouer blowen
with good humanitie and wyse handlynge. Euery man hath hys maner and
euery mā hath his seueral aptite or mynde, and thinkes hys owne
way best, & yf we list not to lie there liueth no mā
without faulte, which yf anie were elles, ywis in wedlocke they
ought to know and not vtterly hated

xan, you say well,

Eulalya. It happeneth many times that loue dayes breketh
betwene man and wife, before ye one be perfitly knowē
vnto the other beware of that in any wife, for when malice is ones
begon, loue is but barely redressed agayne,

[Illustration]

namely, yf the mater grow furthe unto bytter checkes, & shamfull
raylinges such things as are fastened with glew, yf a manne wyll all
to shake them strayght waye whyle the glew is warme, they soone fal
in peces, but after ye glew is ones dried vp they cleue
togither so fast as anie thing, wherefore at the beginning a meanes
must be made, that loue mai encrease and be made sure betwene ye
man & the wife, & that is best brought aboute by gentilnesse
and fayre condycions, for the loue that beautie onelie causeth, is
in a maner but a cheri faire.

Xan. But I praye you hartelye tell me, by what pollycy ye
brought your good man to folow your daunce.

Eula. I wyll tell you on this condicyon, that ye will folowe
me.

xan. I can.

Eula, It is as easy as water if ye cā find in your hart
to do it, nor yet no good time past for he is a yong mā, and
you ar but agirle of age, and I trowe it is not a yere ful sins ye
wer maried.

[Illustration]

Xā All thys is true

Eulalia. I wyll shew you then. But you must kepe it secret

xantip. with a ryght good wyl.

Eula. This was my chyefe care, to kepe me alwayes in my
housbandes fauoure, that there shulde nothyng angre him I obserued
his appetite and pleasure I marked the tymes bothe whan he woulde be
pleased and when he wold be all byshrwed, as they tameth the
Elephantes and Lyons or suche beastes that can not be wonne by strēgth

xantyppa. Suche a beaste haue I at home.

Eula. Thei that goth vnto the Elephantes weare no white
garmentes, nor they that tame wylde bulles, weare no blasynge
reedes, for experience teacheth, that suche beastes bee madde with
those colours, like as the Tygers by the sound of tumbrels be made
so wode, that thei plucke theymself in peces. Also thei yt
breake horses haue their termes and theyr soundes theyr hadlynges,
and other knackes to breake their wyldnes, wyth all.

[Illustration]

Howe much more then is it oure duetyes that ye wyues to
use suche craftes toward our husbandes with whō all our lyfe
tyme wil we, nyl we is one house, and one bed.

xantip. furthwith your tale.

Eula, whē I had ones marked there thynges. I applied my
selfe unto hym, well ware not to displease him.

xantip. How could thou do that.

Eulalya. Fyrste in the ouerseynge my householde, which is the
very charge and cure of wyues, I wayted euer, not onely gyuynge hede
that nothing shoulde be forgotten or undoone, but that althynges
should be as he woulde haue it, wer it euer so small a trifle.

xā. wherin.

Eulalia. As thus. Yf mi good man had a fantasye to this
thynge, or to that thyng, or if he would haue his meate dressed on
this fashion, or that fashion.

xan. But howe couldest thou fashyon thye selfe after hys wyll
and mynde, that eyther woulde not be at home or elles be as freshe
as a saulte heryng.

[Illustration]

Elali. Abyde a while. I come not at that yet, yf my husband
wer very sad at anye tyme, no time to speake to him. I laughed not
nor tryfled him as many a woman doth but I looked rufully and
heauyly, for as a glasse (if it be a true stone) representeth euer ye
physnamy of hym that loketh in it, so lykewyse it becommeth a wedded
woman alway to agre vnto the appetite of her husbande, that she be
not mery whē he murneth, nor dysposed to play whē he is
sad. And if that at any time he be waiward shrewshaken, either I
pacyfye hym with faire wordes, or I let hym alone, vntyll the wynd
be ouerblowen gyuing him neuer a word at al, vntil the time come
that I may eyther excuse my faute, or tell hym of hys. In lyke wyse
when he commeth home wel whitled, I gyue hym gentyll and fayre
woordes, so with fayre entreatynge I gette hym to bed.

xantyppa, O careful state of wyues, whē they muste be
gladde and fayne to followe their husbandes mindes, be thei eluyshe,
dronken, or doying what myschiefe they liste.

[Illustration]

Eula. As whoe saieth this gentill dealynge serueth not for
bothe partyes, for they spyte of theyr berdes muste suffre many
thynges in our demeanor, yet a time ther is, whē in a weighty
matter it is laufull that the wyfe tell the good mā his faute,
if that it be matter of substaunce, for at lyght trifles, it is best
to play byll under wynge.

xantyp. what tune is that

Eula. when he is ydle, neither angry, pensife, nor ouersen,
then betwixt you two secretly he must be told his faute gētly,
or rather intreated, that in this thynge or that he play the better
husbande to loke better to his good name and fame and to his helth
and this tellyng must be myxt with mery conceites and pleasaunt
wordes many times I make a meane to tel my tale after this fashyon,
that he shall promise me, he shal take no displeasure wyth my
thynge, that I a foolyshe woman shall breake vnto hym, that
pertayneth eyther to hys helthe worshyppe or welth.

[Illustration]

When I haue sayde that I woulde, I chop cleane from that
communication and falle into some other pastime, for this is all our
fautes, neyghbour Xantippa, that whē we begyn ones to chat our
tounges neuer lie.

Xantip. So men say

Eulalia. Thus was I well ware on, that I neuer tell my husbād
his fautes before companie, nor I neuer caried any cōplaynte
furthe a dores: the mendes is soner made whē none knoweth it
but two, and there were anie suche faute that myght not be wel borne
nor amēded by ye wyues tellige, it is more laudable
that the wife make complaynte vnto the Parentes and kynsfolke of her
husband, then vnto her own, and so to moderate her complaynte that
she seme not to hate hym but hys vice nor let her play all the
blabbe, that in some poynt vnutered, he may know & loue his
wiues curteysy.

Xantip. She had nede be aswellerned womā, that would do
all this.

[Illustration]

Eu. Mary through suche demeanoure, we shall sterre our husbādes
vnto lyke gentylnesse.

Xan: There be some that cannot be amended with all the
gentyll handlynge in the worlde.

Eula: In faith I thyncke nay, but case there be, marke this
wel the good man must be for borne, howe soeuer the game goeth, then
is it better to haue him alwayes at one point or ells more kinde and
louing throw oure gentill handlinge, then to haue him worse and
worse throwe our cursednesse, what wyll you say and I tell you of
husbādes that hath won theyr wiues by suche curtesie, howe
muche more are we boūde to use the same towarde our husbandes.

Xantip. Than shall you tell of one farre vnlyke vnto thyne
husband.

Eula. I am aquented with a certayne gentelman well lerned and
a veri honest man, he maried a yonge wyfe, a mayden of. xvii. yeare
olde brede and brought vp of a chylde in the countre vnder her
fathers and mother wing

[Illustration]

(as gentilmen delite to dwel in the countre) to hunt & hawke
This yong gētilman would haue one that were unbrokē,
because he might the soner breake her after hys owne mind, he begā
to entre her in learning syngynge, and playinge, and by lytle and
lytle to vse here to repete suche thynges as she harde at sermons,
and to instruct her with other things that myght haue doone her more
good in time to come. This gere, because it was straūge vnto
this young womā which at home was brought vp in all ydelnesse,
and with the light communication of her fathers seruantes, and other
pastimes, begā to waxe greuouse & paynfull, vnto her. She
withdrew her good mynde and dylygence and whē her husband
called vpon her she put ye finger in the eye, and wepte
and many times she would fal downe on the grounde, beatynge her head
agaynst the floure, as one that woulde be out of thys worlde.

[Illustration]

When there was no healpe for this gere, the good man as though he
hadde bene wel asked his wyfe yf she woulde ryde into the countre
with him a sporting vnto her fathers house, so that she graunted
anone. When they were cōmē thyther, the gentilman left his
wyfe with her mother & her sisters he wēt furth an huntynge
with his father in lawe, there betwene theym two, he shewed al
together, how that he hadde hoped to haue had a louynge companion to
lead his lyfe withall, now he hath one that is alwaies blubberynge
and pyninge her selfe awaye withoute anye remedie, he prayeth him to
lay to hys hande in amendinge his doughters fautes her father
answered yt he had ones giuen hym his doughter, and yf
that she woulde not be rewled by wordes (a goddes name take
Stafforde lawe) she was his owne. Then the gētylman sayd
agayne, I know that I may do but I had leuer haue her amēded
eyther by youre good counsell or commaundement,

[Illustration]

then to come vnto that extreme waies, her father promised that he
would fynde a remedye. After a dai or two, he espied time and place
whē he might be alone with his doughter. Then he loked soureli
vpō his doughter, as though he had bene horne woode with her,
he began to reherse how foule a beaste she was, how he feared many
tymes that she neuer haue bestowed her. And yet sayde he much a doe,
vnto my great coste and charg, I haue gottē the one that
moughte lye by any Ladyes syde, and she were a quene and yet thou
not perceiuying what I haue done for the nor knowynge that thou hast
suche a man whiche but of his goodnes myghte thynke thee to euill to
be stoye in his kytchen, thou contrariest al his mind to make a
short tale he spake so sharpely to her, that she feared that he wold
haue beaten her. It is a man of asubtyll and wylye wytte, whyche
wythout a vysarde is ready to playe anye maner of parte.

[Illustration]

Thē this yonge wife what for feare, and for trouthe of the
matter, cleane stryken oute of countenaunce, fell downe at her
fathers fete desyryng hym that he wolde forgette and forgiue her all
that was past and euer after she woulde doe her duetye Her father
forgaue her, and promised that she shoulde finde him a kynd and a
louynge father, yf so be that she perfourmed her promyse.

xantippa. How dyd she afterwarde?

Eulalya, whē she was departed frō her father she
came backe into a chaumber, and there by chaunce found her husband
alone she fel on her knees to hym and said. Mā in tymes paste,
I neyther knewe you nor my selfe, from this daye froward ye shall se
me cleane chaunged, onelye pardon that is past, with that her
husbande toke her in his armes & kyssed her sayinge she should
lacke nothyng yf she woulde holde her in that mind.

xantip. Why did she cōtinue so.

[Illustration]

Eulalya. Euen tyll her endynge daye, nor there was none so
vyle a thynge but that she woulde laye handes on it redely with all
her herte, if her husband wolde let her, so great loue was begō
and assured betwene them and many a daye after, shee thanked god yt
euer she met with such a mā. For yf she had not she sayd she
had ben cleane caste awaye.

xan. We haue as greate plentie of suche housbandes, as of
white crowes.

Eulalya. Now, but for werieng you? I coulde tell you a thynge
that chaunced a late in this same citye.

xantyppa. I haue litell to doe, and I lyke your communicacyon
very well.

Eulalia. There was a certaine gentilmā he as suche sort
of men do, vsed much huntyng in the cuntre, where he happened on a
younge damoysell, a very pore womās child on whō he doted
a man well stryken in age, and for her sake he lay oftē out of
his owne house his excuse was hūtîg. This mās wife
an exceding honest womā, halfe deale suspecte the mater, tried
out her husbandes falshed,

[Illustration]

on a tyme whē he had taken his iourney fourth of the town vnto
some other waies, she wente vnto that poore cotage and boulted out
all the hoole matter, where he laye on nights, wheron he drāke,
what thyng thei had to welcō him withall. There was neither one
thyng nor other, but bare walles. This good womā returned home,
and sone after came againe brynginge wt her a good soft
bed, and al therto belongyng and certain plate besydes that she gaue
them moneye, chargynge them that if the Gentilmā came agayne,
they shold entreate him better not beyng knowē al this while
that she was his wyfe, but fayued her to be her sister. Not long
after her husband stale thether againe, he sawe the howse otherwyse
decked, and better fare then he was wounte to haue. He asked, frome
whence commeth al this goodly gere? They sayde that an honeste
matrone, a kynsewoman of hys hadde broughte it thyther and
commaunded

[Illustration]

thenm that he should be well cherished when so euer he came, by and
by his hart gaue him that it was hys wiues dede, whan he came home
he demaūded of her yf she hadde bene there or nay, she sayd
yea. Then he asked her for what purpose she sente all that housholde
stuffe thyther. Man (said she) ye haue bē tenderly brought vp.
I perceiued that ye were but corslie handled there, me thought that
it was my part, seing it was your wyll and pleasure to be there ye
shoulde be better loked to.

Xantippa. She was one of goddes fooles. I woulde rather for a
bed haue layd vnder him a bundel of nettels: or a burden of
thistels.

Eula. But here the end her husbande perceyuyng the honeste of
her great pacience neuer after laye from her, but made good cheare
at home with his owne. I am sure ye knowe Gilberte the holāder.

Xan. Very well.

Eu. He (as it is not vnknowē maried an old wife in his
florishîg youth.

[Illustration]

Xā. Per aduēture he maried the good and notthe
woman.

Eulalia. There sayde ye well, setting lytell stoore by hys
olde wife, hunted a callette, with whom he kept much companie
abrode, he dined or supped litell at home. What wouldest thou haue
sayd to ye gere.

Xantip. What woulde I a said? I wolde haue flowē to the
hores toppe and I wolde haue crowned myne husbande at hys oute
goinge to her with a pysbowle,that he so ēbawlmed might haue
gon vnto his souerayne ladie.

Eula. But how much wiselier dyd this woman? She desyred that
yonge woman home vnto her, and made her good chere, so by that
meanes she brought home also her husband without ani witchraft or
sorserie, and yf that at anye season he supped abrode with her she
would sende vnto them some good dayntie morsel, and byd him make
good chere

Xantippa. I had leuer be slayne then I woulde be bawde vnto
myne owne husbande.

[Illustration]

Eulalia. Yea, but consyder all thynges well, was not that
muche better, then she shoulde be her shrewyshnesse, haue putte her
husbandes minde cleane of from her, and so haue ledde all her life
in trouble and heuynesse.

Xantippa. I graunte you well, that it was better so but I
coulde not abyde it.

Eulalya. I wyll tell you a prety story more, and so make an
ende One of oure neyghboures, a well disposed and a goddes man, but
that he is some what testie, on a day pomeld his wife well and
thriftely aboute the pate and so good a woman as euer was borne, she
picked her into an inner parler, and there weepynge and sobbynge,
eased her heuye harte, anone after, by chaunce her husbande came
into the same place, and founde hys wyfe wepyng. What sitest thou
heare sayth he seighing & sobbîg like a child Thē she
like a wise woman sayde. Is it not more honesty for me to lamente my
dolours here in a secret place, thē to make wondering and on
oute crye in the strete,

[Illustration]

as other womē do. At so wyfely and womanly a saing his hart
melted, promysynge her faythfullye and truelie that he woulde neuer
laye stroke on her afterwarde, nor neuer did.

Xantippa. No more wil mine god thanke my selfe.

Eulalya. But then ye are alwaies one at a nother, agreinge
lyke dogges and cattes.

Xan. What wouldest thou that I should do?

Eu. Fyrst & formest, whatsoeuer thy husbande doeth sayde
thou nothinge, for his harte must be wonne by lytell and litel by
fayre meanes, gentilnesse and forbearing at the last thou shalte
eyther wynne him or at the least waie thou shalt leade a better life
thē thou doest now.

Xantippa. He his beyonde goddes forbode, he wil neuer amende.

Eulalia. Eye saye not so, there is no beest so wild but by
fayre handling be tamed, neuer mistrust man thē. Assay a moneth
or two, blame me and thou findest not that my counsell dooeth ease.
There be some fautes wyth you thoughe

[Illustration]

thou se them, be wyse of this especyall that thou neuer gyue hym
foule wordes in the chambre, or inbed but be sure that all thynges
there bee full of pastyme and pleasure. For yf that place which is
ordeined to make amēdes for all fautes and so to renew loue, be
polluted, eyther with strife or grugynges, then fayre wel al hope of
loue daies, or atonementes, yet there be some beastes so wayward and
mischeuous, that when theyr husbandes hath them in their arms a bed,
they scholde & chyde making yt same plesure their
lewd condicions (that expelseth all displeasures oute of their
husbandes mynde unpleasaunt and lytell set bi corrupting the
medecine that shuld haue cured al deadly greifes, & odible offēces.

xantip. That is no newes to me.

Eula. Though the woman shulde be well ware and wyse that she
shulde neuer be disobedient vnto her husbād yet she ought to be
most circūspect

[Illustration]

that at meting she shew her selfe redy and pleasaunt unto him.

xantyppa. Yea vnto a man, holde well withall but I am combred
with a beast.

Eula. No more of those wordes, most commonly our husbādes
ar euyll through our owne faute, but to returne againe vnto our
taile they that ar sene in the olde fables of Poetes sai that Venus
whome they make chiefe lady of wedlocke (hath a girdle made by the
handy worke of Vulcan her Lorde, and in that is thrust al that
enforceth love and with that she girdeth her whan so ever she lyeth
wyth her housbande

xantippa. A tale of a tubbe.

Eulalya. A tayle it is, but herkē what the taile
meaneth.

xantippa. Tell me.

Eulalia That techeth us that the wyfe ought to dyspose her
selfe all the she maye that lieng by her husbād she shew him al
the plesure that she cā; Wherby the honest love of matrimony
may reuiue and be renewed, & that there with be clene dispatched
al grudges & malice

[Illustration]

xant. But how shall we come by the thys gyrdle?

Eula. We nede neyther wytchraft nor enchauntment, ther is non
of them al, so sure as honest condiciōs accompayned with good
feloshyp.

xan. I can not fauoure suche an husbande as myne is.

Eula, It is moste thy profyt that he be no longer suche. If
thou couldest by thy Circes craft chaunge thin husband into an
hogge, or a bore wouldest thou do it?

xantip. God knoweth.

Eu. Art thou in dout? haddest thou leauer marye an hogge than
a mā.

Xantip. Mary I had leauer haue a manne.

Eulalia. wel, what and thou coudest by sorcery make him of a
drōkarde a soober man, of a vnthrifte a good housbande of an
ydell losell a towarde body, woldest thou not doe it?

xantip. yes, hardely, woulde I doe it. But where shoulde I
learne the cunnyng?

Eula. For soth that cōning hast thou in the if thou
wouldest vtter it, thyn must he be, mauger thy head, the towarde ye
makest him, the better it is for the,

[Illustration]

thou lokest on nothing but on his leude cōdicions, and thei
make the half mad, thou wouldest amende hym and thou puttest hym
farther oute of frame, loke rather on his good condicions, and so
shalt thou make him better. It is to late calagayne yesterdaie
before thou were maryed unto hym. It was tyme to cōsyder what
his fautes were for a women shold not only take her husbande by the
eyes but by the eares. Now it is more tyme to redresse fautes thē
to fynd fautes.

xantt. What woman euer toke her gusband by the eares.

Eulali. She taketh her husbande by the eyes that loketh on
nothyng, but on the beautye and pulcritude of the body. She taketh
him by the eares, that harkeneth diligētly what the common
voice sayth by him

xantip. Thy counsaile is good, but it commeth a day after the
faire.

Eula. Yet it commeth time ynough to bringe thyne husbande to
a greate furtheraunce to that shall bee yf God sende you anie frute
togither.

[Illustration]

xantippa. We are spede alredy of that.

Eulaly. How long ago.

Xantip. A good whyle ago

Eulalia. How many monethes old is it.

Xantip. It lacketh lytle of. vii.

Eula What a tale is this, ye reken the monethes by nightes
and dayes double.

Xantippa. Not so.

Eula. It can not be none other wyse, yf ye reken from the
mariage day.

xantippa. yea, but what thē, I spake with him before we
were maried.

Eulalia. Be children gotten by speakinge.

xantip. It befell so that he mette me alone and begon to
ticke at me, and tickled me vnder the arme holes and sydes to make
me laugh. I might not awaie with ticklynge, but fell downe
backewarde vpon a bedde and he a lofte, neuer leuinge kyssynge on
me, what he did els I can not saye, but by sayncte Marie within a
while after my bely beganne to swell.

Eula. Go now and disprayse thine husbāde whiche yf he
gette children by playe, what wyll he do whē he goeth to it in
good ernest.

[Illustration]

xantippa, I fere me I am payed agayin.

Eula. Good locke God hath sent a fruitfull grounde, a good
tylmā.

Xantip. In that thing he might haue lesse laboure and more
thanke.

Eula. Few wyues finde at theyr husbandes in that behalf but
were ye thē sure togither.

xanti. yea that we were

Eula. The offence is the lesse. Is it a man chylde.

xantip. yea.

Eula. He shal make you at one so that ye wil bow &
forbere. What saieth other mē by thin husband, they that be his
cōpanions, they delite with him abrode

xā, They say that he is meruelous gentyl, redy to do
euery man pleasure, liberal and sure to his frende.

Eula. And that putteth me in good cōfort that he wyll be
ruled after our counsayll.

xantip. But I fynde him not so.

Eula. Order thy selfe to him as I haue tolde thee, and cal me
no more true sayer but a lier, if he be not so good vnto the as to
anie creature liuinge Again cōsidre this he is yet but a
childe, I thinke he passethe not.

[Illustration]

xxiiij. the blacke oxe neuer trode on hys fote, nowe it is but loste
laboure to recken vpon anye deuorse.

xantippa. Yet manye a tyme and ofte I haue troubled my
braynes withal

Eulalia. As for that fantasye whensoeuer it commeth into your
mynd first of all counte how naked a thynge woman is, deuorsed from
man. It is the hyghest dignitie that longethe to the wyfe to
obsequyous vnto her spouse. So hath natyre ordeined so god hath
appoynted, that the woman shoulde be ruled al by the man loke onely
vppon this whiche is trouth, thine husbande he is, other canste thou
none haue. Againe forgette not that swete babe be gotten of both
your bodies what thin beste thou to do with that, wilte thou take it
awaye with thee? Thou shalte bereue thyne husband his ryght wylt
thou leue it with hym? thou shalt spoile thy self of thy chefeste
Jewell thou haste. Beside all this tell me trueth hast thou none
euyll wyllers, Besyde all thys tell me trueth, hast thou none euyll
wyllers.

[Illustration]

xan. I haue a stepdame I warrant you, and myne husbandes
mother euen such another.

Eula. Do they hate the so deadly.

xantip. They woulde se me hanged.

Eula. Thē forget not thē what greater plesure
couldest thou shew them then to se the deuorsed from thine husband
and to led a wydowes lyfe. Yea and worse thē a wydow, for
wydowes be at their choise.

xantippa. I holde well with youre coūsell, but I can not
awaye with the paynes.

Eulalia. yet recken what paines ye toke or ye colde teache
your paret to speake.

xantippa. Exceadynge much.

Eu. And thinke you much to labour a lytel in reforming your
husbād with whō you may liue merely all the dayes of your
lyfe. What busines doe mē put thē self to be wel &
easly horsed & shal we think our selues to good to take paines
that we mai haue our husbādes gētil & curteise vnto
vs.

xantip. What shal I do.

[Illustration]

Eu. I haue told you al redy, se that al thing be clene &
trim at home, that no sluttysh or vnclenlye syghtes dryue hym oute a
dores. Be your selfe alwayes redy at a becke, berynge continuali in
minde what reuerēce the wife oweth vnto her husbād. Be
neyther in your dūpes, nor alwayes on your mery pinnes go
nether to homely nor to nycely. Let your meat be cleane dressed, you
know yourhusbādes diet. What he loueth best that dresse.
Moreouer shewe your selfe louinge and fayre spokē vnto thē
where he loueth, call them now and thē vnto your table. At
meate, se that al thinges be well sauored, and make good there, And
whē that he is toppe heuy playing on his lute, sytte thou by
and singe to him so shalte thou make hym keepe home, and lessen hys
expences This shall he thynke at length, in faythe I am a fonde
felowe that maketh suche chere with a strumpet abroode with greate
lossee bothe of substance and name, seyng that I haue a wyfe

[Illustration]

at home bothe muche fayrer, and one that loueth me ten times better,
with whome I may be both clenlyer receiued and dayntelier cherisshed

xantip. Beleuest thou that it will take and I put it into a
profe.

Eulali. Looke on me. I warrante it or ought longe I wyll in
hande with thyne husbande, & I will tell hym his part.

xantippa. ye marie that is well sayde. But be wyse that he
espie not our casle, he would plaie his fages, all the house should
be to lytle for hym.

Eulalia. Take no thoughte. I shall so conuey my matters, that
he shall dysclose all together hym selfe, what busynesse is betwene
you, that done I wyll handell him pretelie as I thinke beste, and I
truste to make him a new man for the and when I se my time I wyl
make a lie for thee, how louinge thou hast spoken of him.

xantippa. Chryst spede vs and bringe our pupose well aboute.

Eulalia. He will not fayle the so thou do thy good wyll.

[Illustration]

There was a man that maried a woman whiche hadde great riches and
beawtye. Howe bee it she hadde suche an impedyment of nature that
she was domme and coulde not speake, whiche thynge made him ryghte
pensyfe, and sayd, wherfore vpon a daye as he walked alone ryght
heuye in hearte thynkynge vpon his wyfe. There came one to hym and
asked him what was the cause of his heuynesse whiche answered that
it was onely bycause his wife was borne dōme. To whome this
other said I shal shewe the soone a remedy and a medicyne (therfore
that is thus) go tak an aspen leafe and lay it vnder her tōge
this night shee beinge a sleape, and I warrant the that shee shall
speake on the morowe whiche man beyng glad of thys medycyne prepared
therfore and gathered aspen leaues, wherfore he layd thre of them
vnder her tonge whan shee was a sleape.

[Illustration]

And on the morow when he him selfe awaked he Desyrous to know how
hys medicine wrought being in bed with her, he demaunded of her how
she did, and sodēly she answered and sayd, I beshrewe thy harte
for waking me so early, and so by the vertue of that medycyne she
was restored to her speche. But in cōclusion her spech encresed
day by day and she was so curst of cōdycyon that euery daie she
brauled and chyd with her husbande, so muche at the laste he was
more weped, and had much more trouble and disease wyth her shrewed
wordes then he hadde before whē she was dumme, wherfore as he
walked another time alone he happened to mete agayne with the same
personne that taught hym the sayde medycine and sayde to hym thys
wyse. Syr ye taught me a medicin but late to make my domme wyfe to
speake, byddynge me lay an aspen leafe vnder her toūg when she
sleapte, and I layde three Aspen leaves there.

[Illustration]

Wherfore nowe she speaketh. But yet she speaketh soo much & so
shrewdlye that I am more werier of her now, then I was when she was
dōme: Wherfore I praie you teache me a medycine to modyfye her
that she speake not so muche. This other answered and sayd thus. Sir
I am a deuyl of hel but I am one of thē that haue least power
there. Al be yet I haue power to make a womā to speake, but and
yf a woman begin ones to speake, I nor al the deuyls in hel that
haue the mooste power be not able to make a woman to be styll, nor
to cause her to leue speakyng.

The end of this pleasant dialogue declaryng the seueral properties
of ye two contrary disposers of the wyues aforesayde.

Imprinted at London in Paules
 church yearde, at the sygne of

the Sunne, by Antony
 Kytson.

*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14282 ***