Part 16

God spede you, maysters, everychone, Wote ye not whyther my wyfe is gone? I pray God the dyvell take her, For all that I do I can not make her, But she wyll go a gaddynge very myche 5 Lyke an Antony pyg[229] with an olde wyche, Whiche ledeth her about hyther and thyther; But, by our lady, I wote not whyther. But, by goggis[230] blod, were she come home Unto this my house, by our lady of Crome,[231] 10 I wolde bete her or that I drynke. Bete her, quotha? yea, that she shall stynke! And at every stroke lay her on the grounde, And trayne[232] her by the here[233] about the house rounde. I am evyn mad that I bete her not nowe, 15 But I shall rewarde her, hard[e]ly,[234] well ynowe; There is never a wyfe betwene heven and hell Whiche was ever beten halfe so well. Beten, quotha? yea, but what and she therof dye? Then I may chaunce to be hanged shortly. 20 And whan I have beten her tyll she smoke, And gyven her many a c.[235] stroke, Thynke ye that she wyll amende yet? Nay, by our lady, the devyll spede whyt![236] Therfore I wyll not bete her at all. 25 And shall I not bete her? no shall?[237] Whan she offendeth and doth a-mys, A i _b_ And kepeth not her house, as her duetie is? Shall I not bete her, if she do so? Yes, by cokkis[238] blood, that shall I do; 30 I shall bete her and thwak her, I trow, That she shall beshyte the house for very wo. But yet I thynk what my neybour wyll say than, He wyll say thus: "Whom chydest thou, Johan Johan?" "Mary," will I say! "I chyde my curst wyfe, 35 The veryest drab that ever bare lyfe, Whiche doth nothying but go and come, And I can not make her kepe her at home." Than I thynke he wyll say by and by,[239] "Walke her cote,[240] Johan Johan, and bete her hardely." 40 But than unto hym myn answere shal be, "The more I bete her the worse is she: And wors and wors make her I shall." He wyll say than, "bete her not at all." "And why?" shall I say, "this wolde be wyst,[241] 45 Is she not myne to chastice as I lyst?" But this is another poynt worst of all, The folkis wyll mocke me whan they here me brall;[242] But for all that, shall I let[243] therfore To chastyce my wyfe ever the more, 50 And to make her at home for to tary? Is not that well done? yes, by Saynt Mary, That is a poynt[244] of an honest man For to bete his wyfe well nowe and than. Therfore I shall bete her, have ye no drede! 55 And I ought to bete her, tyll she be starke dede. And why? by God, bicause it is my pleasure, And if I shulde suffre her, I make you sure, Nought shulde prevayle[245] me, nother staffe nor waster,[246] Within a whyle she wolde be my mayster. 60 Therfore I shall bete her by cokkes mother, Both on the tone syde and on the tother, Before and behynde; nought shall be her bote,[247] From the top of the heed to the sole of the fote. But, masters, for Goddis sake, do not entrete 65 For her, whan that she shal be bete; But, for Goddis passion, let me alone, And I shall thwak her that she shall grone: Wherfore I beseche you, and hartely you pray, And I beseche you say me not nay, 70 But that I may beate her for this ones; A ii And I shall beate her, by cokkes bones, That she shall stynke lyke a pole-kat; But yet, by goggis body, that nede nat, For she wyll stynke without any betyng, 75 For every nyght ones she gyveth me an hetyng; From her issueth suche a stynkyng smoke, That the savour therof almost doth me choke. But I shall bete her nowe, without fayle; I shall bete her toppe and tayle, 80 Heed, shulders, armes, legges, and all, I shall bete her, I trowe that I shall; And, by goggis boddy, I tell you trewe, I shall bete her tyll she be blacke and blewe. But where the dyvell trowe ye she is gon? 85 I holde a noble[248] she is with Syr Jhān; I fere I am begyled alway, But yet in faith I hope well nay; Yet I almost enrage that I ne can Se the behavour of our gentylwoman. 90 And yet, I thynke, thyther as she doth go Many an honest wyfe goth thyther also, For to make some pastyme and sporte. But than my wyfe so ofte doth thyther resorte That I fere she wyll make me weare a fether. 95 But yet I nede not for to fere nether, For he is her gossyp, that is he. But abyde a whyle, yet let me se, Where the dyvell hath our gyssypry[249] begon? My wyfe had never chylde, daughter nor son. 100 Nowe if I forbede her that she go no more, Yet wyll she go as she dyd before, Or els wyll she chuse some other place; And then the matter is in as yll case. But in fayth all these wordes be in wast, 105 For I thynke the matter is done and past; And whan she cometh home she wyll begyn to chyde, But she shall have her payment styk by her syde; For I shall order her, for all her brawlyng, That she shall repent to go a catter-wawlyng.[250] 110

[_Enter_ TYB.]

_Tyb._ Why, whom wylt thou beate, I say, thou knave?

_Johan._ Who, I, Tyb? none, so God me save.

_Tyb._ Yes, I harde the say thou woldest one bete.

_Johan._ Mary, wyfe, it was stokfysshe[251] in Temmes Strete, Whiche wyll be good meate agaynst Lent. A ii _b_ 115 Why, Tyb, what haddest thou thought that I had ment?

_Tyb._ Mary, me thought I harde the bawlyng. Wilt thou never leve this wawlyng?[252] Howe the dyvell dost thou thy selfe behave? Shall we ever have this worke, thou knave? 120

_Johan._ What! wyfe, how sayst thou? was it well gest of me That thou woldest be come home in safete, As sone as I had kendled a fyre? Come warme the, swete Tyb, I the requyre.

_Tyb._ O, Johan Johan, I am afrayd, by this lyght, 125 That I shalbe sore syk this nyght.

_Johan_ [_aside_]. By cokkis soule, nowe, I dare lay a swan That she comes nowe streyght fro Syr Johan; For ever whan she hath fatched of hym a lyk, Than she comes home, and sayth she is syk. 130

_Tyb._ What sayst thou?

_Johan._ Mary, I say, It is mete for a woman to go play Abrode in the towne for an houre or two.

_Tyb._ Well, gentylman, go to, go to.

_Johan._ Well, let us have no more debate. 135

_Tyb_ [_aside_]. If he do not fyght, chyde, and rate, Braule and fare as one that were frantyke, There is nothyng that may hym lyke.[253]

_Johan_ [_aside_]. If that the parysshe preest, Syr Jhān, Dyd not se her nowe and than, And gyve her absolution upon a bed, For wo and payne she wolde sone be deed.

_Tyb._ For goddis sake, Johan Johan, do the not displease, Many a tyme I am yll at ease. What thynkest nowe, am not I somwhat syk? 145

_Johan_ [_aside_]. Nowe wolde to God, and swete Saynt Dyryk,[254] That thou warte in the water up to the throte, Or in a burnyng oven red hote, To se an I wolde pull the out.

_Tyb._ Nowe, Johan Johan, to put the out of dout, 150 Imagyn thou where that I was Before I came home.

_Johan._ My percase,[255] Thou wast prayenge in the Churche of Poules Upon thy knees for all Chrysten soules.

_Tyb._ Nay.

_Johan._ Than if thou wast not so holy, 155 Shewe me where thou wast, and make no lye?

_Tyb._ Truely, Johan Johan, we made a pye, I and my gossyp Margery, And our gossyp the preest, Syr Jhān, A iii And my neybours yongest doughter An; 160 The preest payde for the stuffe and the makyng, And Margery she payde for the bakyng.

_Johan._ By cokkis lylly woundis,[256] that same is she, That is the most bawde hens to Coventre.

_Tyb._ What say you?

_Johan._ Mary, answere me to this: 165 Is not Syr Johan a good man?

_Tyb._ Yes, that he is.

_Johan._ Ha, Tyb, if I shulde not greve the, I have somewhat wherof I wolde meve the.[257]

_Tyb._ Well, husbande, nowe I do conject That thou hast me somewhat in suspect; 170 But, by my soule, I never go to Syr Johan But I fynde hym lyke an holy man, For eyther he is sayenge his devotion, Or els he is goynge in processyon.

_Johan_ [_aside_]. Yea, rounde about the bed doth he go, 175 You two together, and no mo; And for to fynysshe the procession, He lepeth up and thou lyest downe.

_Tyb._ What sayst thou?

_Johan._ Mary, I say he doth well, For so ought a shepherde to do, as I harde tell, 180 For the salvation of all his folde.

_Tyb._ Johan Johan!

[_Johan._] What is it that thou wolde?

_Tyb._ By my soule I love thee too too,[258] And I shall tell the, or I further go, The pye that was made, I have it nowe here, 185 And therwith I trust we shall make good chere.

_Johan._ By kokkis body that is very happy.

_Tyb._ But wotest who gave it?

_Johan._ What the dyvel rek I?

_Tyb._ By my fayth, and I shall say trewe, than The Dyvell take me, and it were not Syr Johan. 190

_Johan._ O holde the peas, wyfe, and swere no more, But I beshrewe both your hartes therfore.

_Tyb._ Yet peradventure, thou hast suspection Of that was never thought nor done.

_Johan._ Tusshe, wife, let all suche matters be, 195 I love thee well, though thou love not me: But this pye doth nowe catche harme, Let us set it upon the harth to warme.

_Tyb._ Than let us eate it as fast as we can. But bycause Syr Jhān is so honest a man, 200 I wolde that he shulde therof eate his part.

_Johan._ That were reason, I thee ensure.

_Tyb._ Than, syns that it is thy pleasure, I pray the than go to hym ryght, A iii _b_ And pray hym come sup with us to nyght. 205

_Jhan_ [_aside_]. Shall he cum hyther? by kokkis soule I was a-curst Whan that I graunted to that worde furst! But syns I have sayd it, I dare not say nay, For than my wyfe and I shulde make a fray; But whan he is come, I swere by goddis mother, 210 I wold gyve the dyvell the tone[259] to cary away the tother.

_Tyb._ What sayst?

_Johan._ Mary, he is my curate, I say, My confessour and my frende alway, Therfore go thou and seke hym by and by, And tyll thou come agayne, I wyll kepe the pye. 215

_Tyb._ Shall I go for him? nay, I shrewe me than! Go thou, and seke, as fast as thou can, And tell hym it.

_Johan._ Shall I do so? In fayth, it is not mete for me to go.

_Tyb._ But thou shalte go tell hym, for all that. 220

_Johan._ Than shall I tell hym, wotest [thou] what? That thou desyrest hym to come make some chere.

_Tyb._ Nay, that thou desyrest hym to come sup here.

_Johan._ Nay, by the rode, wyfe, thou shalt have the worshyp And the thankes of thy gest, that is thy gossyp. 225

_Tyb_ [_aside_]. Full ofte I se my husbande wyll me rate, For this hether commyng of our gentyll curate.

_Johan._ What sayst, Tyb? let me here that agayne.

_Tyb._ Mary, I perceyve very playne That thou hast Syr Johan somwhat in suspect; 230 But by my soule, as far as I conject, He is vertuouse and full of charyte.

_Johan_ [_aside_]. In fayth, all the towne knoweth better, that he Is a hore-monger, a haunter of the stewes, An ypocrite, a knave, that all men refuse; 235 A lyer, a wretche, a maker of stryfe, Better than they knowe that thou art my good wyfe.

_Tyb._ What is that, that thou hast sayde?

_Johan._ Mary, I wolde have the table set and layde, In this place or that, I care not whether. 240

_Tyb._ Than go to, brynge the trestels[260] hyther. Abyde[261] a whyle, let me put of my gown! But yet I am afrayde to lay it down, For I fere it shal be sone stolen.

[_Johan._] And yet it may lye safe ynough unstolen. 245

[_Tyb._] It may lye well here, and I lyst,-- But, by cokkis soule, here hath a dogge pyst; And if I shulde lay it on the harth bare, A iv It myght hap to be burned, or I were ware, Therfore I pray you,[262] take ye the payne 250 To kepe my gowne tyll I come agayne. But yet he shall not have it, by my fay, He is so nere the dore, he myght ron away; But bycause that ye be trusty and sure Ye shall kepe it, and it be your pleasure; 255 And bycause it is arrayde[263] at the skyrt, Whyle ye do nothyng, skrape of the dyrt.

[_Johan._] Lo, nowe am I redy to go to Syr Jhan, And byd hym come as fast as he can.

[_Tyb._] Ye, do so without ony taryeng. 260 But I say, harke! thou hast forgot one thyng; Set up the table, and that by and by.[264] Nowe go thy ways.

[_Johan._] I go shortly;[265] But se your candelstykkis be not out of the way.

_Tyb._ Come agayn, and lay the table I say; 265 What! me thynkkis, ye have sone don!

_Johan._ Nowe I pray God that his malediction Lyght on my wyfe, and on the baulde[266] preest.

_Tyb._ Nowe go thy ways and hye the! seest?

_Johan._ I pray to Christ, if my wyshe be no synne, 270 That the preest may breke his neck, whan he comes in.

_Tyb._ Now cūm again.

_Johan._ What a myschefe wylt thou, fole!

_Tyb._ Mary, I say, brynge hether yender stole.

_Johan._ Nowe go to, a lyttell wolde make me For to say thus, a vengaunce take the! 275

_Tyb._ Nowe go to hym, and tell hym playn, That tyll thou brynge hym, thou wylt not come agayn.

_Johan._ This pye doth borne here as it doth stande.

_Tyb._ Go, washe me these two cuppes in my hande.

_Johan._ I go, with a myschyefe lyght on thy face! 280

_Tyb._ Go, and byd hym hye hym a pace, And the whyle I shall all thynges amende.

_Johan._ This pye burneth here at this ende. Understandest thou?

_Tyb._ Go thy ways, I say.

_Johan._ I wyll go nowe, as fast as I may. 285

_Tyb._ How, come ones agayne: I had forgot; Loke, and there be ony ale in the pot.

_Johan._ Nowe a vengaunce and a very myschyefe Lyght on the pylde[267] preest, and on my wyfe, On the pot, the ale, and on the table, 290 The candyll, the pye, and all the rable, On the trystels, and on the stole; A iv _b_ It is moche ado to please a curst fole.

_Tyb._ Go thy ways nowe, and tary no more, For I am a hungred very sore. 295

_Johan._ Mary, I go.

_Tyb._ But come ones agayne yet; Brynge hyther that breade, lest I forget it.

_Johan._ I-wys it were tyme for to torne The pye, for y-wys it doth borne.

_Tyb._ Lorde! how my husbande nowe doth patter, 300 And of the pye styl doth clatter. Go nowe, and byd hym come away; I have byd the an hundred tymes to day.

_Johan._ I wyll not gyve a strawe, I tell you playne, If that the pye waxe cold agayne. 305

_Tyb._ What! art thou not gone yet out of this place? I had went,[268] thou haddest ben come agayn in the space: But, by cokkis soule, and I shulde do the ryght, I shulde breke thy knaves heed to nyght.

_Johan._ Nay, than if my wyfe be set a chydyng, 310 It is tyme for me to go at her byddyng. There is a proverbe, whiche trewe nowe preveth, He must nedes go that the dyvell dryveth. [_He goes to the Priest's house._] How mayster curate, may I come in At your chamber dore, without ony syn. 315

SYR JHAN _the Preest_.

Who is there nowe that wolde have me? What! Johan Johan! what newes with the?

_Johan._ Mary, Syr, to tell you shortly, My wyfe and I pray you hartely, And eke desyre you wyth all our myght, 320 That ye wolde come and sup with us to nyght.

_Syr J._ Ye must pardon me, in fayth I ne can.

_Johan._ Yes, I desyre you, good Syr Johan, Take payne this ones; and, yet at the lest, If ye wyll do nought at my request, 325 Yet do somewhat for the love of my wyfe.

_Syr J._ I wyll not go, for makyng of stryfe. But I shall tell the what thou shalte do, Thou shall tary and sup with me, or thou go.

_Johan._ Wyll ye not go than? why so? 330 I pray you tell me, is there any dysdayne, Or ony enmyte, betwene you twayne?

_Syr J._ In fayth to tell the, betwene the and me, She is as wyse a woman as any may be; I know it well; for I have had the charge B i 335 Of her soule, and serchyd her conscyens at large. I never knew her but honest and wyse, Without any yvyll, or any vyce, Save one faut, I know in her no more, And because I rebuke her, now and then, therfore, 340 She is angre with me, and hath me in hate; And yet that that I do, I do it for your welth.

_Johan._ Now God yeld it yow, god master curate, And as ye do, so send you your helth, Ywys I am bound to you a plesure. 345

_Syr J._ Yet thou thynkyst amys, peradventure, That of her body she shuld not be a good woman, But I shall tell the what I have done, Johan, For that matter; she and I be somtyme aloft, And I do lye uppon her, many a tyme and oft, 350 To prove her, yet could I never espy That ever any dyd worse with her than I.

_Johan._ Syr, that is the lest care I have of nyne, Thankyd be God, and your good doctryne; But yf it please you, tell me the matter, 355 And the debate[269] betwene you and her.

_Syr J._ I shall tell the, but thou must kepe secret.

_Johan._ As for that, Syr, I shall not let.

_Syr J._ I shall tell the now the matter playn,-- She is angry with me and hath me in dysdayn 360 Because that I do her oft intyce To do some penaunce, after myne advyse, Because she wyll never leve her wrawlyng,[270] But alway with the she is chydyng and brawlyng; And therfore I knowe, she hatyth [my] presens. 365

_Johan._ Nay, in good feyth, savyng your reverens.

_Syr J._ I know very well, she hath me in hate.

_Johan._ Nay, I dare swere for her, master curate: [_Aside_] But, was I not a very knave? I thought surely, so god me save, 370 That he had lovyd my wyfe, for to deseyve me, And now he quytyth hym-self; and here I se He doth as much as he may, for his lyfe, To styn[te][271] the debate betwene me and my wyfe.

_Syr J._ If ever she dyd, or though[t][272] me any yll, 375 Now I forgyve her with m[y][273] fre wyll; Therfore, Johan Johan, now get the home And thank thy wyfe, and say I wyll not come.

_Johan._ Yet, let me know, now, good Syr Johan, B i _b_ Where ye wyll go to supper than. 380

_Syr J._ I care nat greatly and I tell the. On saterday last, I and ii or thre Of my frendes made an appoyntement, And agaynst this nyght we dyd assent That in a place we wolde sup together; 385 And one of them sayd, he[274] wolde brynge thether Ale and bread; and for my parte, I Sayd, that I wolde gyve them a pye, And there I gave them money for the makynge; And an-other sayd, she wolde pay for the bakyng; 390 And so we purpose to make good chere For to dryve away care and thought.

_Johan._ Than I pray you, Syr, tell me here, Whyther shulde all this geare be brought?

_Syr J._ By my fayth, and I shulde not lye, 395 It shulde be delyvered to thy wyfe, the pye.

_Johan._ By God! it is at my house, standyng by the fyre.

_Syr J._ Who bespake that pye? I the requyre.

_Johan._ By my feyth, and I shall not lye, It was my wyfe, and her gossyp Margerye, 400 And your good masshyp,[275] callyd Syr Johan, And my neybours yongest doughter An; Your masshyp payde for the stuffe and makyng, And Margery she payde for the bakyng.[276]

_Syr J._ If thou wylte have me nowe, in faithe I wyll go. 405

_Johan._ Ye, mary, I beseche your masshyp do so, My wyfe taryeth for none but us twayne; She thynketh longe or I come agayne.

_Syr J._ Well nowe, if she chyde me in thy presens, I wylbe content, and take [it] in pacyens. 410

_Johan._ By cokkis soule, and she ones chyde, Or frowne, or loure, or loke asyde, I shall brynge you a staffe as myche as I may heve, Than bete her and spare not; I gyve you good leve To chastyce her for her shreude varyeng. 415 [_They return to_ JOHAN'S _house_.]

_Tyb._ The devyll take the for thy long taryeng! Here is not a whyt of water, by my gowne, To washe our handes that we myght syt downe; Go and hye the, as fast as a snayle, And with fayre water fyll me this payle. 420

_Johan._ I thanke our Lorde of his good grace That I cannot rest longe in a place.

_Tyb._ Go, fetche water, I say, at a worde, B ii For it is tyme the pye were on the borde; And go with a vengeance, & say thou art prayde. 425

_Syr. J._ A! good gossyp! is that well sayde?

_Tyb._ Welcome, myn owne swete harte, We shall make some chere or we departe.

_Johan._ Cokkis soule, loke howe he approcheth nere Unto my wyfe: this abateth my chere. [_Exit._] 430

_Syr J._ By God, I wolde ye had harde the tryfyls, The toys, the mokkes, the fables, and the nyfyls,[277] That I made thy husbande to beleve and thynke! Thou myghtest as well into the erthe synke, As thou coudest forbeare laughyng any whyle. 435

_Tyb._ I pray the let me here part of that wyle.

_Syr J._ Mary, I shall tell the as fast as I can. But peas, no more--yonder cometh thy good man.

[_Re-enter_ JOHAN.]

_Johan._ Cokkis soule, what have we here? As far as I sawe, he drewe very nere 440 Unto my wyfe.

_Tyb._ What, art come so sone? Gyve us water to wasshe nowe--have done.

_Than he bryngeth the payle empty._