¶ Of the Frere in the Pulpet That Bad the Woman Leue Her Babelynge. LVIII
¶ In a certayne parrysshe churche in London, after the olde laudable and accustomed maner, there was a frere Mynor, all thoughe he were nat the best clerke nor coulde nat make the best sermondes, yet by the lycence of the curate he there prechyd to the Parysshons. Among the whyche audyence there was a wyfe at that tyme lytell disposed to contemplacyon, [who] talked wyth a gossype of hers of other femenyne tales so loude that the frere harde and somwhat was perturbed therwith. To whome therfore openly the frere spake and sayd: thou woman there in the tawny gowne, holde thy peace and leaue thy babelynge; thou troublest the worde of God. This woman therwith sodenly abasshed, because the frere spake to her so openly, that all the people her behelde, answered shortly and said: I beshrowe his harte that babeleth more of us two. At the which seyng the people dyd laughe, because they felte but lytell frute in hys sermonde.
By this tale a man may lerne to beware howe he openly rebuketh any other, and in what audyence, lest it come to his owne reprofe.