About eyght dayes, or soone after

"About eyght dayes, or soone after Our maryage, the tyme for to passe My wyfe I toke, and dyd set her Upon my knee for to solace; And began her for to enbrace, Sayenge, syster, go get the tyme loste; We must thynke to labour a pace To recompence that it hathe us coste.

"Than for to despyte she up arose, And drewe her faste behynde me, To me sayenge, is this the glose? Alas, pore caytyfe, well I se That I never shall have, quod she, With you more than payne and tormente: I am in an evyll degre; I have now loste my sacramente.

"For me be to longe with you here, Alas, I ought well for to thynke What we sholde do within ten yere, Whan we shall have at our herte brynke Many chyldren on for to thynke, And crye after us without fayle For theyr meate and theyr drynke; Then shall it be no mervayle.

"Cursed be the houre that I ne was Made a none in some cloyster, Never there for to passe; Or had be made some syster, In servage with a clousterer. It is not eyght dayes sythe oure weddynge That we two togyther weere: By god, ye speke to soone of werkynge."