Le poème décrit les femmes comme étant vaniteuses et avares, possessives et matérialistes. On les voit bourses à la ceinture, parées d’amples costumes et de divers bijoux. Chacune est prise au dépourvu par l’apparition subite de la mort et la plupart discourent sur ce qu’il leur a été promis mais qu'elles n’auront point. Dans le livre enluminé, le style vestimentaire laisse croire que les modèles proviennent de la cour, le dessinateur étant probablement un familier de la noblesse. Le rôle des femmes change en cette fin du 15 ième siècle et l’évolution sociale met de l’avant certains modèles féminins plus raffinés.

DEATH
Come along, Newlywed,
Who have set your heart
On dancing and being beautifully dressed
For parties and for choosing your wedding day
Dancing, I come to grab you.
Today you will be put in the ground.
Death never comes at your pleasure.
Joy flees like fire on straw.

La Nouvelle Mariee et la Femme Enceinte

La Revendeuse et la Prostitue

PROSTITUTE
I gave in to this sin
For unbridled pleasure.
Hang the ones who led me there
And left me to the trade.
If I had been well brought up
And guided in the first place,
I would never have been found like this.
The end follows the beginning.

DEATH
Follow my procession, Sister,
You have to account for your deeds.
If you haven't shown pity
For the poor, you will be ashamed.
You don't rise to paradise
Except by steps of charity.
Study your account.
Everything you do is counted there.

La Religieuse et la Sorciere

La Femme de Chambre et la Recommanderesse

CHAMBERMAID
What ! My mistress promised
To arrange my marriage and give me a dowry,
And besides I have other friends
Who will help her do it up right.
Oh ! I will be leaving without doing anything.
I appeal, it's wrong.
I wouldn't know how to keep quiet.
Few people want Death.

DEATH
God surely loves pious women
Who have clear consciences
And he hates hypocrites above all.
They wear hoods without veils
Like some nuns, in high collars.
Through hypocrisy they
Are depraved, in secret sins,
Before God and His company.

L'Hypocrite et la Folle

L'Hotesse et la Nourrice

WETNURSE
I must go to the dance
As the priests go to Communion.
I would like to hang back
But I feel swelling under my chlothing,
Between my arms, when I breathe.
This child is dying of plague.
Sudden death is a great pity.
One may not have an hour or a half hour.