Geoffrey Chaucer - The Merchant's Prologue (in Middle English) lyrics

The Prologe of the Marchantes Tale "Wepyng and waylyng, care and oother sorwe I knowe ynogh, on even and a-morwe," Quod the marchant, "and so doon other mo That wedded been. I trowe that it be so, For wel I woot it fareth so with me. I have a wyf, the worste that may be; For thogh the feend to hire ycoupled were, She sholde hym overmacche, I dar wel swere. What sholde I yow reherce in special Hir hye malice? She is a shrewe at al. Ther is a long and large difference Bitwix Grisildis grete pacience And of my wyf the pa**yng crueltee. Were I unbounden, also moot I thee! I wolde nevere eft comen in the snare. We wedded men lyven in sorwe and care. Assaye whoso wole, and he shal fynde That I seye sooth, by Seint Thomas of Ynde, As for the moore part - I sey nat alle. God shilde that it sholde so bifalle! A! goode sire hoost, I have ywedded bee Thise monthes two, and moore nat, pardee; And yet, I trowe, he that al his lyve Wyflees hath been, though that men wolde him ryve Unto the herte, ne koude in no manere Tellen so muchel sorwe as I now heere Koude tellen of my wyves cursednesse!" Now," quod oure hoost, "Marchaunt, so God yow blesse, Syn ye so muchel knowen of that art Ful hertely I pray yow telle us part." "Gladly," quod he, "but of myn owene soore, For soory herte, I telle may namoore."