The Merchant's Tale
Richard
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Old January, wealthy knight,
Thought he’d wed to his delight,
He chose a bride so young and fair,
A named May, with golden hair.
Oh, January, don't you see,
Young May’s not what she seems to be,
With so bold and tricks so sly,
This tale will you wondering why!
They married in a grand affair,
food and wine beyond compare,
But January was old blind,
While May had something else in mind.
Young Damian, a squire sweet,
Caught May’s eye, oh what a treat,
They whispered secrets, planned their game,
While January, none wiser, lame.
In the garden lush and green,
May Damian were oft seen,
They climbed a tree, the was set,
For a tryst that none would soon forget.
Blinded knight, he stood below,
While May and Damian’s did grow,
Suddenly his sight returned anew,
Caught them the act, it’s true!
May cried out, a clever dame,
“It’s for your sight, I’m not to blame,
I with the squire so dear,
To bring your vision back, my dear!”
So if you wed a maiden young,
And think your life will be so sung,
Remember January’s tale of woe,
And be wary, lest your sight throw!
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