Thus labour’d he, till that the day gan daw, And then he took a sop in fine clarré, And upright in his beddë then sat he. And after that he sang full loud and clear, And kiss’d his wife, and madë wanton cheer. He was all coltish, full of ragerie 2894 And full of jargon as a flecked pie. The slackë skin about his neckë shaked, While that he sang, so chanted he and craked. 2895 But God wot what that May thought in her heart, When she him saw up sitting in his shirt In his nightcap, and with his neckë lean: She praised not his playing worth a bean. Then said he thus; “My restë will I take Now day is come, I may no longer wake; And down he laid his head and slept till prime. And afterward, when that he saw his time, Up rosë January, but freshë May Heldë her chamber till the fourthë day, As usage is of wivës for the best. For every labour some time must have rest, Or ellës longë may he not endure;