Ballade
To be a woman’s
fine, a man far better.
You maids, you
widows keep this to the letter:
Don’t haste or
fret to see yourselves soon wed.
It’s said that
manless you are honour’s debtor;
If finding food
and clothes though does not fetter,
Let no man master
both your house and bed.
Take my advice: Be
wary where you tread
It seems to me,
where’er I cast my gaze,
That if a woman
choose – though nobly bred
And rich in goods
– to wed she all her days
Will spend short-tethered;
if alone she stays
Instead both pure
and chaste she’ll, I profess,
Be mistress of a
life excelling praise.
With marriage I’ve
no quarrel, nonetheless
Not tied by
husbands women prosper best.
Maids fair of face
make wives plain to behold,
Poor frumps, poor
drudges; take care, young and old!
From wedlock’s
hold I thus should clearly sheer.
Alas, once they
are wed they’ve soon extolled
A love which they
believe cannot grow cold;
This they will rue
within just half a year:
The yoke of
marriage makes life far too drear!
Of this all those
who’ve wed are well aware!
And women make
much clamour out of fear
When husbands seek
distraction here and there,
Spend nights and
days in inn and gambling lair;
Then wives swear
that they rue their foolishness,
But friends and
family can’t ease their care.
So stay on guard,
and hear what I profess:
Not tied by
husbands women prosper best.
The man comes home
at times drunk as a lord,
Pesters his wife,
exhausted by her chores;
No time to pause
if she the house shall run.
And should she
feel like countering his roars,
He strikes her in
the face or to the floor;
That drink-logged
vat’s commands she may not shun.
For all he’ll do
is rant and rave at one,
So are things
done; poor wife who such must bear!
And if with other
women he’s begun,
What joy to rule
the home when he’s not there.
You maids, you
women, quench your thirst elsewhere
Ere you would
hitch yourself up to distress.
Though you a view
opposed to mine all share,
I simply do not
care, but still profess:
Not tied by
husbands women prosper best.
Unkept, a woman
must man’s wealth forgo;
His will though
likewise she need never know.
And freedom, I
maintain, is of great worth.
Without account
she’s free to come and go;
Though she must
spin to earn her bread, all know
To feed one mouth
it takes a lesser purse.
Not tied, she’s
envied everywhere on earth,
And though a
husband’s income is denied,
As mistress she is
master of her hearth.
To freely move is
joy none can deride.
To sleep or wake
at will she may decide,
With none to chide
– so stay untied, don’t rest.
Lost freedom is
the worst ill ever tried.
Wives everywhere,
though good blokes line your nest,
Not tied by
husbands women prosper best.
Princess
Though women may
have wealth none can deny,
They’re viewed as
slaves by men both low and high.
Should they with
fine words ply, then stop them short
And tell them to
push off if they should try;
In number good men
with white ravens vie.
Away from all
gifts shy that they have brought,
As soon as in
their mesh the woman’s caught,
Love is as nought, it’s seen repeatedly.
In marriage man’s
deception’s grimly taught,
With sorrows
fraught, she suffers constantly;
He squanders all
her wealth, won’t let her be.
No game for free,
but heavy curse no less.
Oft money rules
not love when you can see
Such men run till
their lungs burst out their chest.
Not tied by
husbands women prosper best.
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