THE CANTERBURY TALES
Dread not mankind, do them no reverence,
For though thy husband armed be in mail,
The arrows of thy crabbed eloquence
Shall pierce his armour and his breast impale;
In jealousy I charge that thou him bind,
And thou shalt make him couch as doth a quail.
If thou be fair, go forth where throngs be dense
To show thy duds and face without a veil;
If thou be foul, be lavish of expense;
To find thee lovers follow aye the trail;
Be aye of cheer as light as leaf i' the wind,
And let him weep and wring his hands and wail!
Here endeth the Clerk of Oxford his Tale.
172
