In Venus toyes

Was all her joyes,

Seldome sayde she naye;

At the laste she thought,

That her husbande was nought,

And purposed on a daye, To shorten his lyfe,

And as a true wyfe

She wolde it not delaye.

To fulfyll her lust,

In a well she hym thrust,
Without any fraye;

And made countenaunce sad

As thoughe she be sory had;

Also in good faye,

A reed onyon wolde she kepe,

To make her eyes wepe,

In her kerchers I saye.

She was than stedfast and stronge,
And kepte her a wydowe veraye longe,

In faythe almoost two dayes;
Bycause she made greate mone,
She wolde not lye longe alone,

For fere of sodayne frayes;

Leste her husbande dede

Wolde come to her bedde,

Thus in her mynde she sayes. The fourthe husbande she cought, That was lyke her nexte nought,

For he vsed his playes

With maydens, wyues and nonnes;
None amysse to hym commes,
Lyke they be of layes;
Hym she lyked yll,

She prayed the fende hym kyll,
Bycause he vsed her wayes:
This mannes name was Harry,
He coude full clene cary,

He loued prety gayes.
So it happened at the last

An halfepeny halter made hym fast,

And therin he swayes;
Than she toke great thought,

As a woman that careth nought,
So for his soule she prayes;
And bycause she was seke
She wedded the same weke,

For very pure pyte and wo.
Yet or she was wedded,
Thryse had she bedded,

And great hast made therto. The husbande had sone ynowe, But Emlyn bended her browe,

And thought she had not so, But to ease her louer

She toke another,

That lustely coude do;

One that yonge was,

That coude ofte her basse,

Whiche she had fantesy to.

He coude well awaye,

With her lusty playe,

And neuer wolde haue do. Bycause he coude clepe her, She called hym a whypper;

And as they were togyder They bothe swetely played; A sergeaunt them afrayed,

And sayd they were full queuer. They were than full wo,

The frere wolde ben a go,

He cursed that he came thyder; Whether they were leue or lothe, He set them in the stockes bothe, He wolde none dysceyuer. In myddes of the market

Full well was set,

In full fayre wether,

For it dyd hayle and thonder;

On them many men dyd wonder,

But Emlyne laughed ever; She thought it but a jape,

To se men at her gape,

Therof she shamed neuer ; And sayd for her sportynge, It is but for japynge,

That we be brought hyder; It is nother treason nor felony, But a knacke of company,

And dye had I leuer

Than it forsake,

For I wyll mery make,

Whyle youthe hathe fayre wether. Whan her husbande it knewe

Sore dyd he it rewe,

And was so heuy and wo,

He toke a surfet with a cup,

That made hym tourne his heels vp,

And than was he a go.
And whan she was at large,
Care she dyde dyscharge,

And in her mynde thought tho;
Nowe wyll I haue my luste,
With all them that wyll juste,

In spyte of them that saythe so.
And bycause she loued rydynge,
At the stewes was her abydynge,
Without wordes mo;

And all that wolde entre,
She durst on them ventre,
Veray gentyll she was lo;
And longe or she were dede,
She wente to begge her brede,

Suche fortune had she tho;

God dyd bete her surely,
With the rodde of pouerte,

Or she dyde hens go.
Than she dyed as ye shall,
But what of her dyde befall,

Naye there do I ho;

But they that rede this erly or late,
I praye Jesu theyr soules take,

Amen saye ye also.

FINIS.

Imprynted at London without Newegate, in Saynt Pulker's Parysshe,

by me John Skot, dwellynge in the Olde Bayly.