Against Women Unconstaunt

Balade.

Madame, for your newe-fangelnesse, Many a servaunt have ye put out of grace, I take my leve of your unstedfastnesse, For wel I wot, whyl ye have lyves space, Ye can not love ful half yeer in a place; To newe thing your lust is ever kene; In stede of blew, thus may ye were al grene.

Right as a mirour nothing may enpresse, But, lightly as it cometh, so mot it pace, So fareth your love, your werkes bereth witnesse. Ther is no feith that may your herte enbrace; But, as a wedercok, that turneth his face With every wind, ye fare, and that is sene; In stede of blew, thus may ye were al grene.

Ye might be shryned, for your brotelnesse, Bet than Dalyda, Creseide or Candace; For ever in chaunging stant your sikernesse, That tache may no wight fro your herte arace; If ye lese oon, ye can wel tweyn purchace; Al light for somer, ye woot wel what I mene, In stede of blew, thus may ye were al grene.

Explicit.