vanity, God wot, in sweven is, Swevens engender of repletións, And oft of fume, and of complexións, When humours be too abundant in a wight. Certes this dream, which ye have mette tonight, Cometh of the great supefluity Of yourë redë cholera , pardie, Which causeth folk to dreaden in their dreams Of arrows, and of fire with redë beams, Of redë beastës, that they will them bite, Of conteke, and of whelpës great and lite; Right as the humour of meláncholy Causeth full many a man in sleep to cry, For fear of bullës, or of bearës blake, Or ellës that black devils will them take, Of other humours could I tell also, That workë many a man in sleep much woe; That I will pass as lightly as I can. Lo, Cato, which that was so wise a man, Said he not thus, ‘Ne do no force of dreams,’ Now, Sir,” quoth she, “when we fly from these beams, For Goddë’s love, as take some laxatife; On peril of my soul, and of my life, I counsel you the best, I will not lie, That both of choler, and meláncholy, Ye purgë you; and, for ye shall not tarry, Though in this town is no apothecáry, I shall myself two herbës teachë you, That shall be for your health, and for your prow; And in our yard the herbës shall I find, The which have of their property by kind To purgë you beneath, and eke above. Sirë, forget not this for Goddë’s love; Ye be full choleric of complexión; Ware that the sun, in his ascensión, You findë not replete of humours hot; And if it do, I dare well lay a groat, That ye shall have a fever tertiane, Or else an ague, that may be your bane, A day or two ye shall have digestives Of wormës, ere ye take your laxatives, Of laurel, centaury, and fumeterére, Or else of elder-berry, that groweth there, Of catapuce, or of the gaitre-berries, Or herb ivy growing in our yard, that merry is: Pick them right as they grow, and eat them in, Be merry, husband, for your father’s kin; Dreadë no dream; I can say you no more.”
“Madame,” quoth he, “ grand mercy of your lore, But natheless, as touching Dan Catoún, That hath of wisdom such a great renown, Though that he bade no dreamës for to dread, By God, men may in oldë bookës read Of many a man more of authority Than ever Cato was, so may I thé, That all the reversë say of his senténce, And have well founden