or no good,
That hath in love his time spent and used.
Men wist, his Lady his asking withstood;
Ere that he were of her, plainly refused.
Or waste and vain were all that he had mused:
Wherefore he can none other remedy,
But on his Lady shapeth him to lie.

"Every woman," he saith, "is light to get,
Can none say, 'Nay!' if she be well ysought;
Whoso may leisure have with her to treat
Of his purpose ne shall be failen ought
But he on madness be so deep ybrought
That he shende all with open homeliness;
That loven women not, as that I guess."

To slaunder women thus, what may profit
To gentles? namely, that them armen should,
And in defence of women them delight
As that the Order of Gentilesse would?
If that a man list gentle to be held
He must all flee that thereto is contrary.
A slanderous tongue is his great adversary!

A foul vice is of tongue to be light.
For _whoso mochil clappeth, gabbeth oft_.
The Tongue of Man so swift is, and so wight
That when it is yraised up on loft,
Reason it sueth so slowly and soft,
That it him never overtaken may.
Lord! so these men been trusty in assay!

Albeit that men find one woman nice,
Inconstant, recheless, and variable,
Deignous and proud, full filled of malice,
Withouten faith or love, and deceivable,
Sly, quaint, false, in all untrust culpable,
Wicked or fierce, or full of cruelty:
Yet followeth not that such all women be!

When the high God angellis formed had,
Among them alle formed were there none
That founden were malicious and bad?
Yes! all men wot that there were many one
That for their pride fell from heaven anon.
Should we, forthy, give all angels proud name?
Nay, he that that sustaineth, is to blame!

Of twelve Apostles, one a traitor was;
The remenant yet good weren and true.
So if it happen men finden, percase,
A woman false; such good is to eschew:
And deeme not that they be all untrue.
I see well, that men's owne falseness
Them causeth woman for to trust the less.

O, every man ought have a hearte tender
Unto woman, and deem her honourable;
Whether her shape be thick, or else slender,
Or she be good or bad! It is no fable.
Every wight wot, that wit hath reasonable,
That of a woman, he descended is:
Then is it shame of her to