The lyf so short, the craft so long to lerne.
Who then may trust the dice, at Fortune's throw?
Take a cat, nourish it well with milk and tender meat, make it a couch of silk.
By God, if women had written stories, As clerks had within here oratories, They would have written of men more wickedness Than all the mark of Adam may redress.
Make a virtue of necessity.
'My lige lady, generally,' quod he, 'Wommen desyren to have sovereyntee As well over hir housbond as hir love.'