Of all creatures women be best,
Cuius contrarium verum est.

In every place ye may well see
That women be trewe as tirtill on tree,
Not liberal in langage but ever in secree,
And gret joye amonge them is for to be.

The stedfastnes of women will never be don,
So gentil, so curtes, they be everichon,
Meke as a lambe, still as a stone,
Croked nor crabbed find ye none.

Men be more cumbers a thousandfold,
And I mervail how they dare be so bold
Against women for to hold,
Seeing them so pascient, softe and cold.

For tell a woman all your counsaile
And she can kepe it wonderly well:
She had lever go quik to hell
Than to her neighbour she wold it tell.

Now say well by women or elles be still,
For they never displesed man by ther will:
To be angry or wroth they can no skill,
For I dare say they think non ill.

Trow ye that women list to smater,
Or against ther husbondes for to clater?
Nay! they had lever fast, bred and water,
Then for to dele in suche a matter.

To the tavern they will not go,
Nor to the alehous never the mo,
For, God wot, ther hartes wold be wo
To spende ther husbondes money so.