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I mene of women; for all ther cheres queint
Truft them not to moch, ther truthe is but trefon,
The fairift outward wel can thei ypaint,
Ther ftedfaftneffe endurith but a fefon,
For thei faine frendlines and worchin trefon,
And for thei are chaungable naturally,
Beware therefore, The blind eteth many a flie.

What wight on lyve ytrustith on ther cheres
Shall have at laft his guerdon and his mede;
Thei can fhave nerir than rafours or fheres:
Al is not gold that fbinith, men take hede,
Their galle is hid undir a fugrid wede;
It is but queint ther fantasie to' afpie,
Beware therefore, The blind eteth many' a flie.
Though all the worldè doe his bufie cure
To make women standin in ftableneffe
It would not be; it is against nature;
The worlde is doc when thei lacke doublenes,
For thei laugh and love not, this is expreffe ;
To truft on them it is but fantasic,
Beware therfore, The blind eteth many' a flie.
Women of kindè hath condicions thre;
The first is that thei be full of diffeite,
To fpinnin alfo is ther propertie,
And women have a wondirfull conseite,
For thei can wepe oft, and all is a fleite,
And when thei lift the tere is in the eye,
Beware therfore, The blind eteth many' a flie.

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In foth to faie, though all the yerth so wanne
Wer parchement smoth, white and fcribabell,
And the gret fe, that called is the' Ocean,
Were tournid into ynke blackir then fabell,
Eche sticke a pen, eche man a fcrivener abel,
Not coud thei writin woman's trechirie,
Beware therfore, The blind eteth many' a flie.

Explicit.

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A balade declaring that womens chaflite doeth moche excel all trefure worldly.

In womanhede, as auctours al ywrite,

Most thing commendid is chafte honefte,

Thing moft flaund'erous ther nobles to atwite,
As when women of hafty fraëlte

Exceden the bondes of wifely chastite,

For what availeth lynage or rial blode
When of ther lyving the report 'is not gode?
The holy bed defoilid of mariage
For ones defoiled may not recovered be,

The vice goth forth and the froward langage
By many' a relme and many' a grete cite;
Slaundir hath a custome, and that' is grete pite,
That true or fals, by a contrarious foune,
Onis areised it goth not lyghtly downe:
For when a lechour by force or mastry
Defoulid hath of virgins the clennes,
Vidous oppressed, and lye in advoutry,

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Affailid wives that ftode in ftablenes,

Who may then ther slaundèrous harme redresse
When ther gode name is hurt by foch report?
For fame loft ones can ner bave his refort.

A thefe may robbe a man of his richeffe,
And by fome mene make reftitucion,
And some man maye dyfherit and oppreffe
A povir man from his poffeffion,
And aftir make him fatisfaccion,
But No man may restore in no degre
A maide robbid of her virginite.

A man may also bete a caftil doune,

And bilde it aftir more freshe to the fight,

Exile a man out of his regioune,

And him revoke whether it be wrong or right,

But No man bath the porvir ne the might
For to restore the palace virginal

Of Chaftite when brokin is the wal.

Men may alfo put out of ther fervice, And officirs remeve out of ther place, And at a day, when Fortune lift devife, They may again restorid be to grace,' But Ther n'is timè notbir fet ne space,

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To ravishe thing which they may not restore,
For it is faide, and hath be said ful yore,
The emeraud grene of parfite chafite

Stole ones away may not recovered be.

And hard it is to ravifhe a trefour
Whiche of nature is not recuparable;
Lordship may not of kinge nor emperour
Reforme a thinge whiche is nat reformable ;
Rust of defamè is inseparable,

And Maidinhode yloft of nerve or yore
No man on live may it again reftore.

The Romanes olde thorough ther pacience Suffirid tyrauntes in ther tyranyes

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On ther cites to do grete violence,
The peple to oppreffe with ther roberies,
But them to punishe they set gret espies
On falfe avouterers, as it is wel couth,

Which widowes ravish and maidens in ther youth. 63
Explicit.

Chaucer's wordes unto bis own fcrivenere.

ADAM Scrivenere, yf ever it the befalle

Boece or Troiles for to write new

Under thy longe lockes thou maist have the fcalle,
But after my makynge thou write more true,
So ofte adaye I mote thy werke renew
It to correcte and eke to rubbe and scrape,
And al is thorow thy negligence and rape.

End of Chaucer's Works.

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John Gower unto the noble King Henry IV.

Noble worthie Kyng Henrie the Ferth!
In whom the gladdè fortune is befall
The peple to governe here upon yerth,
God hath the chosen in comfort of us all;

The worship of this land, which was doun fal,
Now ftant upright through grace of thy godenesse,
Which every man is hold for to blesse.

The most high God of his juftice alone
The right whiche longith to thy regalie
Declarid hath to ftande in thy perfone,
And more then God maie no man justific,
Thy title' is knowe upon thyne aunceftric,
The land'is folk hath eke thy right affirmed,
So ftant thy reigne of God and man confirmed.
There is no man maie faie in othirwife
That God hymfelf ne hath the right declared,
Whereof the lande is bounde to thy fervice,
Whiche for defaute of helpe hath long ycared,
But now there is no mann'is hertè spared
To love, and ferve, and worchin thy plesaunce,
And all this is through God'is purveiaunce.

In alle thing whiche is of God begonne
There foloweth grace, if it be well governed,
Thus tellin thei whiche olde bokis conne,
Wherof, my Lorde, I wote well thou art lerned,
Afke of thy God, fo fhalt thou not be werned

Of no request the whiche is refonable,

For God unto the gode is favourable.

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