And when they are separated, they think of each other and say in their hearts, 'When I see him I shall do thus and thus to him, or say this to him, I shall beseech him concerning this or that.' And all their special pleasure, their chief desire and their perfect joy is to do pleasure and obedience one to the other, if they love one another.[10] The greater part of the Menagier's book is concerned, however, not with the theoretical niceties of wifely submission, but with his creature comforts.

His instructions as to how to make a husband comfortable positively palpitate with life; and at the same time there is something indescribably homely and touching about them; they tell more about the real life of a burgess's wife than a hundred tales of Patient Griselda or of Jehanne la Quentine.

Consider this picture (how typical a product of the masculine imagination!) of the stout bread-winner, buffeted about in all weathers and amid all discomforts, nobly pursuing the task of earning his living, and fortified by the recollection of a domesticated little wife, darning his stockings at home by the fire, and prepared to lavish her attentions on the weary hero in the evening.

The passage is an excellent example of the Menagier's vivid and simple style, and of the use of incidents drawn from everyday life to illustrate his thesis, which is one of the chief charms of the book.
Fair sister, if you have another husband after me, know that you should think much of his comfort, for after a woman has lost her first husband she commonly finds it difficult to find another according to her estate, and she remains lonely and disconsolate for a long time[F]; and more so still, if she lose the second.

Wherefore cherish the person of your husband carefully, and, I pray you, keep him in clean linen, for 'tis your business.