five husbands have I had, and three were good and two bad. By good, I
mean that they were old and rich, and gave themselves up to me body
and soul, for they loved me well, and had given me all their
property.

"Now for the two of them that were bad. The first bad one was my
fourth husband. He was gay; but I tell you I could be gayer, and
between us things came to a pretty pass. However, in the end I went
on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, and when I came back it pleased God
that he should die, and I buried him as he deserved, and God rest his
soul. My fifth was a scholar. He had studied at one time at Oxford
and then came to live with a neighbour of mine. I had met him before,
but I first really loved him at the funeral. I was weeping, or doing
my best to pretend to, and had my handkerchief over my face, but
looking out under it I noticed his legs and feet as he was walking
along in the procession, and prettier legs, I swear, I never saw.
'Tis true he was only twenty and I forty, but I was buxom enough and
had money and looks. At the end of the month we were married. O dear
me, what a life I led with him! It was I who was infatuated this
time, alas! I made over to him all my property, and much I repented
that. Not one thing would he do that I wished, and worse, he once
boxed my ears so hard that I became quite deaf. At the same time I
would not give in to him, and though he threatened to leave me and
quoted the authority of the ancient Romans for doing so, I stuck to
my own way of life.

"And now I'll tell you why I tore the pages out of his book. He had a
book he was always reading and laughing at. A great many authors'
works were bound up in it--Valerius and Theophrastus and a cardinal
of Rome named St. Jerome, and other bishops, and Tertullian, also the