¶ Here is the book of maid Emlyn that had .v. husbands and all kockoldes she would make their beards whether they would or no / and give them to were a pretty hood full of belles.  
 Maid Emlyn and one of her cuckolded husbands   


will ye here of meruaylles  
drawn out of gospels  
Of maid Emlynne  
That had husbands five  
And all did never thrive  
She could so well spin  
loving to go gay  
And seldom for to pray  
For she was born in Lynne  
oft wolde she seek  
The taverns in the weke  
till her wit was thin  
Full sweetly wolde she kys  
With galauntes ywys  
And say it was no sin  
Thus collynge in arms  
Some men caught harms  
Full little did they win  
And if her husband said ought  
look what she soonest cought  
At his heed she wolde it flynge  
She wolde lay lorell thou  
I will teach thee I trow  
Of thy language to blynne  
It is pity that a knave  
A pretty woman should haue  
That knoweth not gold from tin  
I trow thou Ialouse be  
between my cousin and me  
That is called sir Sym  
though I go oft thither  
We do nought together  
But pricked ballads sing  
And I so cunning be  
The more worship is to the  
giving thank to him  
For he me first taught  
So I my cunning caught  
when I went a brosshynge  
With such words douse  
This little pretty mouse  
The young lusty prymme  
She could bite and whyne  
when she fawe her time  
And with a pretty gynne  
give her husband an horn  
To blow with on the morn  
Beshrowe her white skin  
And oft wolde she sleke  
To make smooth her cheek  
With red roses therein  
Than wolde she meet  
With her leman sweet  
And cut with him  
talking for their pleasure  
That cock with the feather  
Is gone an hunting  
himself all alone  
To the wode he is gone  
To here the kockowe sing  
Thus with her playfere  
Maketh she merry cheer  
The husband knoweth nothing  
She giveth money plenty  
because new love is daynte  
unto her swetynge  
And prayeth oft to come  
To play there as shineth no son  
So at the next meeting  
She giveth her husband a prick  
That made him double quick  
So good was the greeting  
Kocke called of the bone  
That never was master at home  
But as an vnderlynge  
His wife made him so wise  
That he wolde turn a penny twice  
And than he called it a farthing  
nothing believed he  
But that he did with his eyes se  
Full true was his meaning  
She cherished him with breed and cheese  
That his life he did lese  
Than made she mourning  
And drank devoutly for his soul  
The handbell oft did she colle  
Full great sorrow making  
This sorry widow  
But a while I trow  
mourning did make  
when he was gone  
A young lusty one  
She did than take  
long wolde she not tarry  
Lest she did myscary  
But full oft spake  
To hast the wedding  
And all for beddynge  
Some sport to make  
Her heart to ease  
And the flesh to please  
sorrows to aslake  
In it out Ioyenge  
That wanton playing  
For the old husbands sake  
yet by your leave  
A frere did she give  
Of her love a flake  
And said in her oven  
At any maner of season  
That he should bake  
There is rome enough  
For other and for you  
And space to set a cake  
¶ The second husband Nycoll  
That poor sely sonle  
might not escape  
A kockolde to die  
It was his destenye  
As man unfortunate  
His wife vndeuoute  
oft wolde go about  
And step over many a lake  
making boast in her mode  
That her husband can no more good  
Than can an untaught ape  
Thus by her school  
Made him a fool  
And called him dodypate  
So from his thryfte  
She did him lift  
And therof crest the date  
She made him sad  
And said he was bad  
crooked legged like a stake  
She liked not his face  
And fayed he mouthed was  
most like an hawk  
This good man case  
Was loath to displease  
But yet thought somewhat  
thinking in his mind  
That a man can finde  
A wife never to late  
For of their property  
shrews all they be  
And slyle can they prate  
All women be such  
though the man here the breach  
They will be ever checkemate  
Faced like an angel  
tongued like a devil of hell  
Great causers of debate  
They look full smooth  
And be false of love  
venomous as a snake  
desiring to be praised  
A loft to be raised  
As an high estate  
And these wanton dames  
oft changeth their names  
As An / jane / Besse and Kate.  
Thus thinketh he  
In his mind rejoicingly  
And nought dare say  
For he that is maysterfast  
Full oft is aghast  
And dare not ronne and play  
If she be glad  
Than is he sad  
And fear of a sudden fray  
For womans pride  
Is to laugh and chide  
every hour in a day  
when she doth loure  
And beginneth to snowre  
piteously doth he say  
What do ye lack  
Ony thing sweet heart  
That I to you give may  
She answered him  
With words grotchynge  
Wysshynge herself in clay  
And saith that she lacks  
Many pretty knacks  
As beads and girdles gay  
And the best sport  
That should me comfort  
which is a sweet play  
I can it not haue  
For so god me save  
Thy power is not to pay  
There is nought  
Nought may be cought  
I can no more say  
Many men now here  
Can not women cheer  
But maketh oft delay  
The wife doth mone  
It is not at home  
And borroweth till a day  
What it is I trow  
Well enough ye know  
It is no need to say  
Thus say the wives  
If their husbands thryues  
That they the causers be  
They gete two ways  
both with work and plays  
By their huswyuery  
With their sweet lips  
And lusty hyppes  
They work so plesauntly  
Some will fall anon  
For they be not strong  
They be weyke in the knee  
Be they poor or be they rich  
I beshrew all such  
A men now say ye  
They think it is as great alms  
As to say the seven psalms  
And doth it for charity  
To gete gowns and furs  
These nysebeceturs  
Of men she weth their pity  
sometime for their lust  
Haue it they must  
Or seek will they be  
If it do stick  
And she feel it quick  
Full slyle doth she  
begin for to groan  
And wyssheth she had line alone  
What aileth you than saith he  
She saythe sir I am with child  
It is yours by Mary mild  
And so he weeneth it be  
when played is the play  
jack the husband must pay  
This daily may ye se  
He was glad ywys  
Of that that is not his  
And doth it up keep  
She that doth mock him  
A neither mannes concubine  
And his child eke  
Lo thus doth lands  
Fall in wrong airs hands  
The causers may well weep  
And worse doth happen truly  
The broder the sister doth mary  
And in bed together sleep  
To sin syghtely will the child draw  
That is bekoten without lawe  
wedlock is very sweet  
But ones for all  
The day come shall  
The cry shall be welawaye  
Of all wedlock brekers  
Thus saythe great prechers  
their debts shall they truly pay  
All they that doth offend  
go grant them to amend  
And therfore let us pray.  
¶ But now of Emlyne to speak  
And more of her to treat  
truly for to say  
when the second husband was dede  
The thyrde husband dyde she wed  
In full goodly array  
But as the devil wolde  
Or the pies were cold  
Fell a sudden fray  
Moyses had a new brother  
It wolde be none other  
And all came thorughe play  
But maid maydenhode myssynge  
Knoweth what longeth to kissing  
It is no need to say  
She loved well I trow  
And gave him sorrow enough  
But ones on the day  
With him wolde she chide  
He durst not look aside  
The bound must ever okaye  
This man was old  
And of complexion cold  
nothing lusty to play  
She was full rank  
And of conditions crank  
And redy was alway  
In Venus toys  
Was all her joys  
seldom said she nay  
At the last she thought  
That her husband was nought  
And purposed on a day  
To shorten his life  
And as a true wife  
She wolde it not delay  
maid Emlyn.  
To fulfil her lust  
In a well she him thrust  
Without any fray  
And made countenance sad  
As though she be sorry had  
Also in good faye  
A reed onion wolde she keep  
To make her eyes weep  
In her kerchers I say  
She was than steadfast and strong  
And kept her a widow very long  
In faith almost two dayes  
because she made great mone  
She wolde not lie long alone  
For fear of sudden frays  
Leste her husband dede  
Wolde come to her bed  
Thus in her mind she says.  
¶ The fourthe husband she cought  
That was like her next nought  
For he used his plays  
With maidens wives and nonnes  
None amiss to him comes  
like they be of lays  
him she liked ill  
She prayed the fiend him kill  
because he used her ways  
This mannes name was harry  
He could full clene carry  
He loved pretty gayes  
So it happened at the last  
An halfpenny halter made him fast  
And therein he sways  
Than she took great thought  
As a woman that careth nought  
So for his soul she prays  
And because she was seek  
She wedded the same weke  
For very pure pity and wo  
yet or she was wedded  
Chryse had she bedded  
And great hast made thereto  
The husband had sone enough  
But Emlyn bended her brow  
And thought she had not so  
But to ease her lover  
She took another  
That lustily could do  
One that young was  
That could oft her base  
which she had fantesy to  
He could well away  
With her lusty play  
And never wolde haue do  
because he could clepe her  
She called him a whypper  
And as they were together  
They both sweetly played  
A sergeant them afraid  
And said they were full queuer  
They were than full wo  
The frere wolde ben a go  
He cursed that he came thither  
Whether they were leave or loath  
He set them in the stocks both  
He wolde none dysceyuer  
In mids of the market  
Full well was set  
In full fair wether  
For it did hail and thunder  
On them many men did wonder  
But Emlyne laughed ever  
She thought it but a jape  
To se men at her gape  
Therof she shamed never  
And said for her sporting  
It is but for Iapynge  
That we be brought hither  
It is neither treason nor felony  
But a knack of company  
And die had I lever  
Than it forsake  
For I will merry make  
while youth hath fair wether  
when her husband it knew  
Sore did he it rue  
And was so heavy and wo  
He took a surfet with a cup  
That made him turn his heles up  
And than was he a go  
And when she was at large  
Care she dyde discharge  
And in her mind thought tho  
now will I haue my lust  
With all them that will just  
In spite of them that saythe so  
And because she loved riding  
At the stews was her abiding  
Without words mo  
And all that wolde entre  
She durst on them ventre  
very gentle she was lo  
And long or she were dede  
She went to beg her breed  
such fortune had she tho  
God did bete her surely  
With the rod of poverty  
Or she dyde hens go  
Than she dyed as ye shall  
But what of her dyde befall  
nay there do I ho  
But they that rede this early or late  
I pray Iesu their souls take  
Amen say ye also.   
¶ Finis.   

¶ imprinted at London without Newegate in saint Pulkers parish by me Iohn Skot / dwellyge in the old Bayly.  

John: SCOTT.   printer's device of John Skot (1521-37) a shield (with the monogram of John Skot) surmounted by a helmet, which is suspended from a tree and supported by two mythical beasts. 
I S   border (foot) piece with initials of John Skot