What, think’st to make an idiot of our dame? Now, by that lord that callëd is Saint Jame, 1859 Thou shalt not both, although that thou wert wood, 1860 Be master of my body, and my good, The one thou shalt forego, maugré 1861 thine eyen. What helpeth it of me t’ inquire and spyen? I trow thou wouldest lock me in thy chest. Thou shouldest say, ‘Fair wife, go where thee lest; 1862 Take your disport; I will believe no tales; I know you for a true wife, Dame Ales.’ 1863