Yet hard it is
That holding of peace
When men shall deem thee dastard,
Or deem the lie said soothly;
But woeful is home-witness,
Unless right good thou gettest it.
Ah, on another day
Drive the life from out him,
And pay the liar back for his lying.
Now behold the fourth rede:
If ill witch thee bideth,
Woe-begatting by the way,
Good going further
Rather than guesting,
Though thick night be on thee.
Far-seeing eyes
Need all sons of men
Who wend in wrath to war;
For baleful women
Bide oft by the highway,
Swords and hearts to soften.
And now the fifth rede:
As fair as thou seest
Brides on the bench abiding,
Let not love's silver
Rule over thy sleeping;
Draw no woman to kind kissing!
For the sixth thing, I rede
When men sit a-drinking
Amid ale-words and ill-words,
Dead thou naught
With the drunken fight-staves
For wine stealeth wit from many.
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