Selected quad for the lemma: mind_n
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A19320
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The seuen sorowes that women haue when theyr husbandes be deade. Compyled by Robert Copland
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Copland, Robert, fl. 1508-1547.
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1565
(1565)
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STC 5734; ESTC S116521
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9,951
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27
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al thyng shal be wel Thanked be God ye be out of det God haue his soule that hath you so well set ye nede not to sequester vnder the bysshoppe And that is sene by our warehous and shoppe And I am sure there is muche owyng you Mary sayth she I can not shew you how For he occupied muche more without Than within and that causeth me dout How to get inwarde that other men haue And I am ashamed on them for to craue For all my sorow payne and thought Is for to gather that to hym was aught For he was fre and lent it here and there To them that would browe euery where How be it yet for his owne sowle sake Here and there somwhat I wyll ay take As they may paye for I wyll none trouble For I ensure you though that it were double I set not by it but I wyll haue all ryght As nyghe as I can of euery wyght For what by tayle by wrytyng and by score I am ryght sure ther is ought me more Than I wyl say and that they would maruayle One can not lyue with scoryng on the taile Noywys neybour and that you know full wel As wel as I me nede not ther offoâ— to tell For it is a new thyng for to take in hand To order all thynges right as it shoulde stande For one that is but lytle wount ther to No remedy but it must nedes be do But how be it I shall tell you what If I coulde wel rule and guyde all that Without the dore as I cane that with in I would not care therfore scantly a pyn But or it be longe neyghbour I trust It shall be ordred parâ—ly as I lust ye ye neyghbour sayth he I dare trust your wit That well ynough ye wyll puruey for it And what I can do ye shall fynde me redy Whan that ye nede both late and erly And fare you well I take my leue as now Neyghbour she sayth I pray god thanke you ¶ The .vii. sorowe UOis laste sorow yf any sorow be Is so the wydow of her chairte Now must perfourme her husbandes intent Touching his wyll his mynde and tesstament And so she doth as nygh as she can So that no where ther is any man That can demaunde of ryght and duty But she them pleaseth well and honestly So that her name is so wel spredde That many delyteth her for to wedde Wouers com with many a proude offre Some with loue and other som with proffre Som come gayly and all in pleasure Som come poorely wyth countenaunce demure Som launcheth mony largely fro theyr powches Some sheweth tynges Ieweles and riche owches Some sendeth her a tokne or a Capon Som sendeth her wyne other sendeth venyson And all for to kendle and set her hert on fire To cause her to bowe and folow ther desyre But this wydow as stedfast as a wall As she well can thanketh them greatly all Excusyng her as she can do full well For certayne causes more that I can tell How be it perchaunce that she woulde fayne But she casteth in her mynde agayne yf I should wedde and holde me vnto one That myght fortune all this chere were gone Me thynke I lede a metely mety lyfe Whiche I should not yf that I whre a wyfe To bed I go and ryse whan I wyll All that I do is reason and skyll I commaunde other but noue commandeth me And eke I stande at myne owne liberte How be it I do note in consynence Whether to wedde or lyue in continence For I am yonge and may the worlde increase And vnto me it is full harde to cease The wanton delyte that younge women haue And ferther more my good name for to saue For the resorte that here do com dayly I take suche thought and so much care y t I Wote not well in what estate to abyde For yf a yonge man shoulde me betide That were to sharpe or hath no worldli shifte Than myght I say a dew fare wel my thryfte And yf I sholde hym in any wyse contray Than myght perchaunce that we two shoulde vart In the deuyls name peke thee out at the dore And so me bete saying olde wyddred hore Or lay to pledge suche as I haue or sell yet had I leuer neuer with none to mell yf he be olde and a waywarde wyght He is yll to please eyther day or nyght Euer hummyng at thys thyng and that And alway chydyng and wotes not for what And yf he fall ones in ialowsy The deuyl than troubleth his fantasy Thus I ne wote by god and by my soule How that I may now me selfe controule He that I had me thought was very yll But yf god pleased I wolde I had hym styll So than this wydow hee selfe to comforte Unto a frende of hers dothe resorte With her neyghbours and goynge be the way They chaunce to walke ouer an olde raw say Whiche is to broke and the pauement â—ore Than taketh she vpher clothes a fore For fylyng rememberyng her husbandes entent Thai euer amended that broken pauement Saynge our lorde Iesu graunt hym his grace That was wont to lay stones in this place But if that I may lyue an other yere They shal be layde as well as euer they were Ah true wydowe so true louyng and kynde Thy husbandes dedes be not fro thy mynde Now all true wydowes as ye do entende In all our sorowes Chryst you comforte sende ¶ Finis deo laus et honor Lenuoy of R. Copland â—O lytle quayre god gyue the wel to sayle To that good sheppe ycleped Bertelet For through it thou mayst the more preuayle Agaynst the rockes that blyndly ben yset Up on the land thy substaunce for to fret And from all nacyous if that it be thy lot Lest thou be hurt medle not with a Scot. ¶ And to thy readers as custome is to say Do thy deuoyr but to wydowes chefely Desyringe them to take it as in play For that to do was myne entent truely Desyryng them to accept my fantasy And to amende thyne englyshe where is nede For to pastime myne intent was in dede ¶ Explicit ¶ Imprented at London in Lothburi ouer agaynste Sainct Margarytes church by me Wyllyam Copland
she than makyng great mone Sayng wo is me thys tyme for to se Now must I both husband and wyfe be yet what of that I may take such sorow Parauenture to dye or to morowe Nay let it be for I wyl take no thought Sorow wyl ryght soone bryng me to nought Now syth he be gon wel what remedy Other be wyddwes as wel as I Than sytteth she sadly downe on the benche What Ione I say and called her wenche Come hyther Ione to me is your hous drest I pray god gyue all chrysten soules good rest And w t her knyfe bytwene her fyngers two She dalieth waggyng it to and fro With dydle dydle dydle tyrle tyrle tyrle The brayne rennyth and ther of no terle As in suche a case and than wyl requyre O sorowe great more hote than the fyre Now is thys woman in greate fantasy And no maruayle yet hathe she no couse whi For haply he was vnto her vnkynde But for al that as clene out of her mynd Of womanhed and eke of here kyndnes She dothe forget hys waywerde folyshnes And dote performe the tenour of hys wyl And is in purpose hys mynd to fulfyl Remembrynge greatly how the pore soule is In great peryl yf he haue left ought amysse And than a gayne her owne selfe for to chere Her mayde she calleth as I dyd saye ere Com hyther I one and god on my arande God and desire my gossyp Coplande My gosseyp Miles and my gssip Susan My gossip Stodarde and my neybour An The good wyfe Rychardson the good wyfe Gayes And to Peters vyfe pray them streyght wayes To do so moch as to come speke with me And whan thou hast done loke that thou hie the And take a pot and go to saint Iohans heade For a quart of Muscadel and newe bread â— couple of bounes or maunchettes newe bake For I promyse thee my hert doth ake Anone maystresse sayth she as a good damsell And douth her message right fayre and well And whan the gossyppes assembled be What chere goode gossyp than sayeth she and she Be ye of good chere and thanke god of all This worlde ye se doth tourne lyke as a ball Now vp and now downe now to and now fro Now myrth than Ioye nowe care and than wo A good man god haue mercy on thy soule By my trouth whan I dyd her the bell tole My hert erned and I shall tell you why Ah good man thou speke ful meryly Thys day seuen nyght and now thou art ful lowe Now by my faythe in al this strete I trowe Is not his felow in euery degree By my sowle yf ye wyll beleue me I trowe he wyll neuer out of my mynde Surly gossyp he was euer kynde A Iesu howe he woulde you prayes His mynde was so occupyed alwayes On this worlde in his myrth and his game I harde hym neuer no man defame Ah gossyp gossyp sayth thys wydow than Though I say it he was an honest man He left me so to dryue the wat a way That I am bounde for hym dayly to pray For by thys syluere and wyne in this cuppe And therewith she made a soppe Saynge of gossyppes my hert is so sore That I care not whyche ende doth go a fore And therewyth putteth it in to her mouthe And swere by hym that dyed in the southe There was neuer sorow wo nor smerte That euer dyd go more nerer my herte Alacke good woman take it not so heuyly Sayth her gossyppes lest that ye dye Now he is gone there is no better reede Thus this wydowe they comfort euery day The best they can to dryue her care a way ¶ The syxte sorowe Now hath thys wydow thanked be Iesu Performed the buriyng as to her is due Sadly and wysely me nede not to tell She hath behaued her ther in so well That I dare sweare if it chaunce her agayne She can it do with lesse coste and payne But for all that she is to hym so kynde Thao she wyl not forget his monethes minde Nor his annuuersary at the yeres ende She doth so well that eche doth here commende She renneth not hourly fro house to hous But kepeth home as duly as a mous Erly she ryseth and lyeth downe late And laboureth sore to kepe her estate Walkyng sadly in towne and strete Without acquayntaunce of them that she mete And somtyme hereth how folke doth der prayes Unus Se ye yonder wydowe that goeth that wayes I ensuer you she is a sadde woman By my trouth if I were a sengleman If I had fourty pounde and fourty there by I could fynde in my herte to make her lady Alyus ye but I pray you is she of any substaunce That would make a man any fortheraunce Unus ye by sant Mary I holde her well at ease I tell you if that ye coulde her please Or haue her good wyll than were it cocke For better it were to haue her in her smocke Than som other that hath more good It is a great treasure to haue womanhood Alius That is truth but I shall tell you one thyng Many that been so smothe in their goyng Been also shrewed as is the deuell of hell And neuer cease but euer fyght and yell Euer vnquiet and alway chyde and brall And that freteth a man both herte and gall And many tymes in stede of fleshe or fyshe A dede mannes head is serued in a dyshe And he ther with is made so very mate That hous and profite he doth in maner hate For I haue herde a hundred tymes and mo That wyues smoke cause men there hous to for go Unus He that is afrayde to treade on the grasse Through medowes I counsell hym not to passe He must aduenture that shuche a thyng wyll haue Often he for goeth that fereth for to craue Thus been these wowers euer in greate doubt That sumtyme do bryng ther mater so a bout That they went to haue God by the cote And haue the dyuel fast a bout the throte As I haue herde say I wote not what it meaneth The matter goeth not as some folke weneth But what of that we must forth on procede To our wydowe Iesu be oure spede She lyueth so well and so honestly That all her knowledge woweth her company Fro the tauerne daunces and common players And wanton may games she kepeht her alwaies Pleasaunt pylgrymages wylsdon and Crome She seketh not but tarieth styll at home So chaunceth it that on a festfulday Whan that folke wandred â—o pastyme and play This woman at home hath a delyte to be Saufe to the dore no farther walketh she And on thresholde fortuneth to syt Than som neyghbour happeneth to se it And to her cometh to pastyme and to talke For she no lust hath a brode as than to walke with good euen fayre wydowe how do ye to day well I thanke you as a lone woman may That hath great charges and but smal counsel wel neyghbour sayth he