( 4 )
I'm fear'd your inn it be to warm,
For too much hotness is not best:
Such hotness there may do me harm,
And keep me that I do not rest:
I know your way, it is to hell,
For you are none of the eleven :
Go haste you then unto your cell,
My way is only unto heaven.
That way is by the gates of heil,
If you intend there for to go.
Go, dame, I will not you compel,
But I with you will go also,
Where smoke and darkness did abound,
And pick and sulphur burned still,
With yells and cries, hills did rebound,
The fiend himself came to the gate,
And asked him where he had been?
Do ye not know and have forgot,
Seeking this wife could not be seen.
Good dame, he said, would you be here,
I pray you then tell me your name?
The wife of Beith, since that you speer,
But to come in I were to blame.
I will not have you here, good dame,
For you were mistress of the flyting,
If once within this gate you come,
I will be troubled with your biting.
Cummer, go back, and let me be,
Here are too many of your rout:
For women lewd like unto thee,
I cannot turn my foot about.
