![]() The Good Wife Taught Her Daughter
Lordship is the same activity Whether performed by lord or lady. Or a lord who happens to be a lady, All the source and all the faults. A woman steadfast in looking is a callot, And any woman in the wrong place Or outside of her proper location Is, by definition, a foolish woman. The harlot is talkative and wandering By the way, not bearing to be quiet, Not able to abide still at home, Now abroad, now in the streets, Now lying in wait near the corners, Her hair straying out of its wimple. The collar of her shift and robe Pressed one upon the other. She goes to the green to see to her geese, And trips to wrestling matches and taverns. The said Margery left her home In the parish of Bishopshill, And went to a house, the which The witness does not remember, And stayed there from noon Of that day until the darkness of night. But a whip made of raw hippopotamus Hide, trimmed like a corkscrew, And anon the creature was stabled In her wits as well as ever she was biforn, And prayed her husband as so soon As he came to her that she might have The keys to her buttery To take her meat and drink. He should never have my good will For to make my sister for to sell Candle and mustard in Framlyngham, Or fill her shopping list with crossbows, Almonds, sugar and cloth. The captainess, the vowess, Must use herself to work readily As other gentilwomen doon, In the innermost part of her house, In a great chamber far from the road. So love your windows as little as you can, For we be, either of us, weary of other. From Volume 189, Number 4, January 2007 Copyright © The Poetry Foundation |