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John Skelton
Quote #9
Maide, wydowe, or wyffe.
More from John Skelton
When I remember again How my Philip was slain, Never half the pain Was between you twain, Pyramus and Thisbe, As then befell to me. I wept …
Like Andromach, Hector's wife, Was weary of her life, When she had lost her joy, Noble Hector of Troy; In like manner also Increaseth my de…
PLA ce bo! Who is there, who? Di le xi! Dame Margery, Fa, re, my, my. Wherefore and why, why? For the soul of Philip Sparrow That was late …
For though my ryme be ragged, Tattered and jagged, Rudely rayne beaten, Rusty and moughte eaten, It hath in it some pyth.
I say, thou mad March hare, I wonder how ye dare Open your jangling jaws To preach in any clause, Like prating popping daws, Against her ex…
In the spight of his teeth.
Old proverbe says, That byrd ys not honest That fyleth hys owne nest.
He knew what is what.
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