Whatever man shall thee wed before God with a ring Honour him and worship him, and bow over all things Meekly answer him, and not too sharply

And so thou shalt slake his anger, and be his darling. Fair words slaketh wrath my dear child.

Sweet of speech shalt thou be, glad, of mild mood True in word and in deed, in life and soul good Keep thee from sin, from indecency, and shame And look that thou bear thee so well, that men say to thee no blame

A good name far winneth my dear child.

Be thou of appearance sad, and ever of fair cheer That thy cheer change not, for naught that thou mayest hear

Fare not as a flighty person, for naught that may betide

Laugh thou not too loud, nor yawn thou not too wide Laughing thou mayest and fair mouth make my

dear child.

When thou goest by the way go thou not too fast
Wag not with thy head, thy shoulders away to-cast
Be not of many words, swear thou not too greatly
All such manners my dear child, thou must forsake
Evil play evil name my dear child.

Go thou not to town, as it were to gaze
From house to house, for to seek the maze

Go thou not to market, thy cloth for to sell

Nor go thou not to tavern, thy worship to sell He that tavern haunteth his thrift forsaketh, my dear child.

Zif you be in any stede / þer good drynke is a lofte
Whethir pou serue / or sitte softe

Mesurely take per offe / pt pe falle no blame

Zif you be ofte dronken / it fallithe the to grete schame pat mesure louethe e skille ofte hathe his wille my leue

childe.

Goe þou noght to wrastelynge / ne schetynge at þe cokke

As it were a strumpet / or a gegelotte

Wone at home doughter / † kepe þin owen wike And so þou schalt my leue child / sone ware riche Mery is owne pinge to kepe my dere childe

Awheynte pe noght withe il ke man/ pt pou metest in Þe strete

And þei he speke foule to pe / faire pou him grete

. Þou forthe in þe weie / longe by none þou stande .. þou þorow no vyleyny þin hert no þinges chaunge For alle ben nought trewe pi faire spekyn my leue

childe

For none wronge couetise / zifte pou ne take But you wete wele whi / sone þou it forsake Goode wise men withe ziftis / men may ouergone Thow þei were also trewe / as euer was þe stone Bounden he is Fat zifte takithe my dere chüde In othir mannys house / make þou none maistrye Ne blame pou no þinge / þí þou seiste withe þi eye I pray þe my dere childe / loke þou bere þe so wele þat alle men may seyen / Þou art so trewe as stele

Gode name is golde worthe my leue childe

If thou be in any place, where good drink is aloft Whether thou serve, or sit softly

Measurely take thereof, that to thee there fall no blame If thou be oft drunken, it falleth thee to great shame He that loveth measure and skill oft hath his will

my dear child.

Go thou not to wrestling, nor shooting at the cock As it were a strumpet, or a giglot [silly, flighty wanton]

Dwell at home daughter, and keep thy own wike [house]

And so thou shalt my dear child, soon be rich. Merry it is one's own things to keep my dear child.

Acquaint thee not with each man that thou meetest in the street

And though he speak foul to thee, fair thou him greet
Hie thou forth in the way, long by none thou stand
Do thou through no indecency thy heart nothing change
For all be not true that speak fair my dear child.
For no wrong covetousness, take thou any gifts
But thou wit well why, soon thou forsake it
Good wise men with gifts, men may over-gone
Though thou wert as true, as ever was the stone
Bound he is that taketh gift my dear child.

In other man's house, make thou no mastery
Nor blame thou no thing that thou seest with thy eye
I pray thee my dear child, look thou bear thee so well
That all men may say, thou art as true as steel.
Good name is worth gold my dear child.

Be you no chider /ne of wordis bolde

To mysseyn þi neyboure / neither zonge ne olde
Be þou noght to mody / ne to envyouse

For noght þ1 may be tyde / in othir mannys house
Exbyouse hertë hym selfe fretithe mp dere child

And zif þi neyboures wif / haue riche atyire
Ther for make þou no stryue / ne bren þou noght as fyire
But panke god of þt good / pt he hathe þe zeuen
And so you schalt my good child / in grete ese leuen
at ese he is p' seldam thankithe my leue childe

Housewifly schalt þou goen / on þe werke day
Pride † reste † ydelchipe / do it alle away
And when þe haliday is come / wise schalt þou be
þe Haliday to wurchipe / x god schalle loue þe.
More for worschipe pan for pride my dere childe
Withe ryche robys & garlondys / z swiche þinge
Ne countirfete no ladijs / as þi lorde were a kynge
Withe swiche as he may þe fynde / payede schalt you be
þat he lees noght his manhed / for þe love of pe
Ouere done pride makpthe nakid spde my lete childe
Mekille schame ben wymmen worthi / x so hem
schalle be tide

þat bryngyn her lordis in mischef / for here mekille pride

Be wele wise doughtere / † kepe þin owen gode

For aftir þe wrenne hathe veynes / men schalle late hir blode

is thrifte warithe thonne pt spendithe more pan wynne mp tere childe

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Be thou no chider, nor of words bold

To speak ill of thy neighbour, neither young nor old. Be thou not too moody, nor too envious,

For nought that may betide, in other man's house,

Envious heart fretteth himself, my dear child.
And if thy neighbour's wife have rich attire,
Therefore make thou no strife, nor burn thou not as fire
But thank God of that good, that he hath given thee
And so thou shalt, my good child, in great ease live
At ease he is that seldom thanketh my dear chiki.
Housewife-like shalt thou go on the week day,
Pride and rest and idleness, put it all away,
And when the holyday is come, wise shalt thou be
The holyday to worship, and God shall love thee
More for worship than for pride, my dear child.
With rich robes and garlands, and such things
Do not counterfeit ladies, as if thy lord were a king,
With such as he may find thee, pleased shalt thou be
That he lose not his manhood for the love of thee

Overdone pride maketh naked side, my dear child. Much shame are women worthy of, and so shall betide them,

That bringing their lords in mischief, for their much pride

Be well wise, daughter, and keep thy own goods, For after the wren hath veins, men shall let her

blood,

His thrift waxeth thin that spendeth more than he winneth, my dear child.