THE WIFE OF BATH’S TALE

Here begins the Tale of the Wife of Bath.

In the olden days of good King Arthur,

Of whom Britons still speak with great honor,

This whole land was all filled up with fairies.

The elf queen, with her pretty company, 860

Went dancing then through many a green mead.

I think this was the old belief, indeed;

I speak of many hundred years ago.

But now no one sees elves and fairies go,

For now all the charity and prayers 865

Of limitors48 and other holy friars,

Who haunt through every land and every stream

As thick as motes floating in a sun beam,

Blessing halls and chambers, kitchens, bowers,

Cities, boroughs, castles, and high towers, 870

Barns and villages, cowsheds and dairies—

This is the reason why there are no fairies.

For there where once was wont to walk an elf,

Now there the begging friar walks himself

In the afternoons and in the mornings, 875

He says his matins and his holy things

As he walks all throughout his begging grounds.

Now women may go safely all around.

In every bush and under every tree,

There is no other incubus49 but he, 880

And he’ll do them no harm but dishonor.

So it happened that this good King Arthur

Once had a lusty knight, a bachelor,

Who, one day, came riding from the river,

And it chanced that, as he was born, alone, 885

He saw a maiden walking on her own,

From which maid, then, no matter what she said,

By very force, he took her maidenhead;

This oppressive violence caused such clamor,

And such a suit for justice to King Arthur 890

That soon this knight was sentenced to be dead,

By the course of law, and should have lost his head—

By chance that was the law back long ago—

Except the queen and other ladies also

So long had then prayed to the king for grace 895

Till he had granted his life in that place,

And gave him to the queen, to do her will,

To choose whether she would him save or kill.

The queen then thanked the king with all her might,

And after this, thus spoke she to the knight, 900

When, on a day, she saw that it was time.

“You stand,” she said, “in this state for your crime:

That of your life, you’ve no security.

I grant you life, if you can tell to me

What thing it is that women most desire. 905

Keep your neck-bone from the ax now, sire!

And if, at once, the answer you don’t know,

Still, I will give you leave so you can go

A twelvemonth and a day, to search and learn

Sufficient answer before you return; 910

Before you leave, I’ll have security

That here you’ll surrender up your body.”

Woe was this knight, and he sighs sorrowfully;

But what! He can’t do all he likes completely.

And at last, he decided that he’d wend 915

His way and come back home at the year’s end,

With such an answer as God would convey;

He takes his leave and goes forth on his way.

He seeks in every house and every place

Where he has hopes that he’ll find some good grace 920

To learn the thing that women love the most,

But he could not arrive on any coast

Where he might find out about this matter,

Two creatures who agreed on it together.

Some said that all women best loved richness, 925

Some said honor, and some said jolliness,

Some, rich array, and some said lust in bed,

And often times to be widowed and wed.

Some said that our hearts were most often eased

When we could be both flattered and well pleased. 930

He got quite near the truth, it seems to me.

A man shall win us best with flattery,

Solicitude, and eager busyness.

Thus we are captured, both the more and less.

And some said that the best of all love we 935

To do what pleases us, and to be free,

And that no man reproves us for our folly,

But says that we are wise and never silly.

For truly, there is not one of us all,

If any one will claw us where it galls, 940

That we won’t kick when what he says is true.

Try, and he’ll find it so who will so do;

For, be we ever so vicious within,

We want to be held wise and clean of sin.

And some say that we find it very sweet 945

To be thought dependable and discreet,

And in one purpose steadfastly to dwell,

And not betray a thing that men us tell.

A rake handle isn’t worth that story.

We women can’t keep secrets, by God’s glory; 950

See Midas—will you hear the tale withal?

Once Ovid, among some other things small,

Said Midas covered up with his long hair,

On his head two ass’s ears that grew there,

And this flaw he did hide as best he might 955

Quite cleverly from every mortal’s sight,

So that, save for his wife, no one did know.

He loved her most, and trusted her also;

He prayed her that to no other creature

She would tell how he was so disfigured. 960

She swore to him, “No”; all this world to win,

She would not do that villainy or sin,

To make her husband have so foul a name.

She wouldn’t tell because of her own shame.

But, nonetheless, it seemed to her she died 965

Because so long she must that secret hide;

She thought it swelled so sorely near her heart

That some word from her must, by needs, depart;

Since she dared not tell it to any man,

Down to the marsh that was nearby, she ran— 970

Until she got there, her heart was on fire—

And as a bittern50 bellows in the mire,

Down by the water, she did her mouth lay:

“Thou water, with your sound do not betray:

To thee I tell, and no one else,” she said; 975

“My husband has long ass ears on his head!

Now is my heart all whole; now is it out.

I could no longer keep it, without doubt.”

Here you see, if a time we might abide,

Yet it must out; we can no secret hide. 980

If of this tale you want to hear the rest,

Read Ovid, and there you will learn it best.

This knight, about whom my tale is concerned,

Seeing that the answer he’d not learned—

That is to say, what women love the best— 985

Sorrowful was the spirit in his breast.

But home he goes; no more might he sojourn;

The day had come when homeward he must turn.

And on his way, it happened he did ride,

With all his cares, near to a forest’s side, 990

Where he saw come together for a dance,

Some four and twenty ladies there by chance;

Toward which dance he eagerly did turn,

In hopes some wisdom from them he might learn.

But truly, before he had arrived there, 995

The dancing ladies vanished—who knew where.

No creature saw he left there who bore life,

Save on the green, he saw sitting a wife—

A fouler creature, none imagine might.

This old wife then arose to meet the knight. 1000

“Sir knight, there’s no road out of here,” said she.

“What you are seeking, by your faith, tell me.

Perhaps, then, you’ll be better prospering.”

She said, “These old folks can know many things.”

“Beloved mother,” said this knight, “it’s fate 1005

That I am dead unless I can relate

What thing it is that women most desire.

Could you tell me, I’d well repay your hire.”

“Pledge me your troth,” said she, “here in my hand,

And swear to me the next thing I demand, 1010

You shall do it if it lies in your might,

And I’ll tell you the answer before night.”

“I grant,” he said, “you have this pledge from me.”

“Then, sire, I dare well boast to you,” said she,

“Your life is safe, and I will stand thereby; 1015

Upon my life, the queen will say as I.

Let see who is the proudest of them yet

Who wears either a coverchief or hairnet

Who dares say ‘Nay’ to what I will you teach.

Let us go forth without a longer speech.” 1020

Then she whispered a message in his ear,

And bade him to be glad, and have no fear.

When they came to the court, this knight did say

That, as he’d pledged, he had held to his day,

And he said his answer was ready then. 1025

Many noble wives and many maidens

And many widows, because wise are they,

With the queen sitting as the judge that day,

Were all assembled, his answer to hear;

And then this knight was told he should appear. 1030

It was commanded that there should be silence

And that the knight should tell in audience

The thing that worldly women love the best.

The knight did not stand like a beast at rest;

At once to his question then he answered 1035

With manly voice, so all the court it heard:

“My liege lady, generally,” said he,

“Women desire to have sovereignty

As well over their husbands as their loves,

And to be in mastery them above. 1040

This is your greatest desire, though me you kill.

Do as you like; I am here at your will.”

In all the court, there was no wife or maiden

Nor widow who denied what he had said then,

But they said he was worthy of his life. 1045

And with that word, then, up jumps the old wife,

Whom the knight had seen sitting on the green:

“Mercy,” said she, “my sovereign lady queen!

Before your court departs, by me do right.

I taught this very answer to this knight; 1050

For which he pledged to me his troth and hire,

So that the first thing I’d of him require,

This he would do, if it lay in his might.

Before the court, then I pray you, sir knight,”

Said she, “that you now take me for your wife, 1055

For well you know that I have saved your life.

Upon my faith, if I say false, say ‘nay.’ ”

This knight answered, “Alas, and well away!

I know that was my promise, I’ll be blessed.

But for God’s love now, choose a new request! 1060

Take all my goods, and let my body go.”

“Oh no,” said she, “I curse us both then so!

For though I may be foul and poor and old,

I’d not want all the metal, ore, or gold

That’s buried in the earth or lies above, 1065

Unless I were your lady and your love.”

“My love?” said he, “oh, no, my damnation!

Alas, that one of my birth and station

Ever should so foully disparaged be!”

But all for naught; the end is this, that he 1070

Constrained was here; by needs, he must her wed,

And take his old wife, and go off to bed.

Now here some men would want to say perhaps

That I take no care—so it is a lapse—

To tell you all the joy and the array 1075

That at the wedding feast was on that day:

To which, my answer here is short and small:

I say there was no joy or feast at all.

Only sorrow and heaviness, I say.

For privately he wedded her next day, 1080

And all day after, he hid like an owl,

For woe was he that his wife looked so foul.

Great was the woe the knight had in his thoughts,

When he was with his wife to their bed brought;

He wallows and he writhes there, to and fro. 1085

His old wife just lay smiling, even so,

And said, “Oh husband dear, God save my life!

Like you, does every knight fare with his wife?

Is this the law here in the house of Arthur?

Is each knight to his wife aloof with her? 1090

I am your own love, and I am your wife;

And I am she who has just saved your life.

Surely, toward you I have done only right;

Why fare you thus with me on this first night?

You’re faring like a man who’s lost his wits! 1095

What’s my guilt? For love of God, now tell it,

And it will be amended if I may.”

“Amended?” said this knight, “alas! No way!

It will not be amended, this I know.

You are so loathly, and so old also, 1100

And come from such low lineage, no doubt,

Small wonder that I wallow and writhe about.

I would to God my heart burst in my breast!”

“Is this,” said she, “the cause of your unrest?”

“Yes,” said he, “no wonder is, that’s certain.” 1105

“Sir,” said she, “I could mend this again,

If I liked, before there’d passed days three,

If you might now behave well toward me.

But since you speak now of such gentleness

As descends to you down from old richness, 1110

So that, because of it, you’re gentle men,

Such arrogance is just not worth a hen.

See who is most virtuous all their lives,

In private and in public, and most strives

To always do what gentle deeds he can: 1115

Now take him for the greatest gentle man.

Christ wills we claim from him our gentleness,

Not from our elders and from their old richness.

Though they leave us their worldly heritage,

And we claim that we’re from high lineage, 1120

Yet they may not bequeath a single thing

To us here of their virtuous living,

Which is what made them be called gentle men;

This is the path they bade us follow then.

Well can he, the wise poet of Florence, 1125

Who’s named Dante,51 speak forth with this sentence.

Lo, Dante’s tale is in this kind of rhyme:

‘Seldom up his family tree’s branches climbs

A man’s prowess, for God in his goodness,

Wills that from him we claim our gentleness’; 1130

For, from our elders, we may no thing claim

But temporal things that may hurt us and maim.

And every man knows this as well as me,

If gentleness were planted naturally

In a certain lineage down the line, yet 1135

They’d not cease in public or in private,

From gentleness, to do their fair duty;

They might not then do vice or villainy.

Take fire and bring it in the darkest house,

From here to mountains of the Caucasus, 1140

And let men shut the doors and go return;

Yet still the fire will lie as fair and burn

Like twenty thousand men might it behold;

Its natural duty it will always hold,

On my life, till extinguished it may be. 1145

Here, may you well see how gentility

Is not connected to one’s possessions,

Since folks don’t follow its operation

Always, as does the fire, lo, in its kind.

For, God knows it, men may well often find 1150

That a lord’s son does shame and villainy;

And he who wants praise for his gentility,

Since a gentle house he was born into,

And had elders full of noble virtue,

And who will not himself do gentle deeds, 1155

And dead gentle ancestors hardly heeds,

He is not gentle, be he duke or earl;

A villain’s sinful deeds do make a churl.

For such gentleness is only fame

From your elders’ high goodness and their name, 1160

Which is a thing your person does not own.

Your gentleness must come from God alone.

Thus our true gentleness must come from grace;

It’s not a thing bequeathed us with our place.

Think how noble, as says Valerius,52 1165

Was this one Tullius Hostillius,53

Nobility did poverty succeed.

Read Seneca, and Boethius54 read;

There you shall see expressly that, indeed,

The man is gentle who does gentle deeds. 1170

And therefore, my dear husband, I conclude:

Though my ancestors were humble and rude,

Yet may the high God, and for this I pray,

Grant me grace to live virtuously each day.

I am gentle, whenever I begin, 1175

To live virtuously and to waive sin.

You reproach me for poverty, indeed,

High God above, on whom we base our creed,

In willing poverty did live his life.

And certainly each man, maiden, or wife 1180

May understand that Jesus, heaven’s king,

Would not choose a vicious way of living.

Glad poverty’s an honest thing, it’s true;

Thus Seneca and other clerks say, too.

He who sees he’s well paid by poverty, 1185

Though he had no shirt, he seems rich to me.

He is a poor man who can only covet,

For he wants what he lacks power to get;

He who has naught, and does not covet, too,

Is rich, though he a peasant seems to you. 1190

True poverty, it sings out properly;

Now Juvenal55 says of it merrily:

‘The poor man, when he should go by the way,

Before the thieves, this man can sing and play.’

Poverty is a hateful good, I guess, 1195

A great encouragement to busyness;

Great improver of wisdom and good sense

For him who can suffer it with patience.

Poverty, though miserable seems its name,

Is a possession no one else will claim. 1200

Poverty often, when a man is low,

Can make him both his God and himself know.

Poverty’s an eyeglass, it seems to me,

Through which he might his good and true friends see.

And sire, now, if I don’t grieve you, therefore 1205

For poverty don’t blame me anymore.

Now, sire, with old age you have reproached me;

And truly, sire, though no authority

Were in books, you gentlemen of honor

Say folks to an old man should show favor 1210

And call him father, in your gentleness;

And I shall find authorities, I guess.

Now, since you say that I am foul and old,

You don’t have to fear to be a cuckold;

For filth and age, so far as I can see, 1215

Are great wardens upon one’s chastity.

But, nonetheless, since I know your delight,

I shall fulfill your worldly appetite.

Choose now,” said she, “of these things, one of two:

Till I die, to have me foul and old, too, 1220

And be to you a true and humble wife,

And never displease you in all my life,

Or else you can have now a fair, young thing,

And take your chances with the visiting

That happens at your house because of me, 1225

Or in some other place, as well may be.

Choose yourself whichever one will please you.”

This knight now ponders and sighs sorely, too,

But finally, he said in this way here:

“My lady and my love and wife so dear, 1230

I put myself in your wise governing;

Choose yourself which one may be most pleasing

And most honor to both you and me too.

I do not care now which one of the two;

What pleases you suffices now for me.” 1235

“Then have I got mastery from you,” said she,

“Since I may choose and govern all the rest?”

“Yes, truly, wife,” said he, “I think it best.”

“Kiss me,” said she, “we are no longer angry,

For, by my troth, to you I will both be— 1240

Yes, now both fair and good, as will be plain.

I pray to God that I might die insane,

Unless to you I’m also good and true

As any wife’s been, since the world was new.

Unless tomorrow I’m as fair to see 1245

As any queen or empress or lady,

Who is between the east and then the west,

Do with my life and death as you think best.

Cast up the curtain; how it is, now see.”

And when the knight saw all this verily, 1250

That she now was so fair and so young, too,

For joy he seized her within his arms two,

His heart was all bathed in a bath of bliss.

A thousand times in a row, he did her kiss,

And she obeyed him then in everything 1255

That was to his pleasure or his liking.

And thus they both lived until their lives’ end

In perfect joy; and Jesus Christ us send,

Husbands meek and young and fresh in bed,

And the grace to outlive those whom we wed; 1260

I pray that Jesus may shorten the lives

Of those who won’t be governed by their wives;

And old and stingy niggards who won’t spend,

To them may God a pestilence soon send!


48 limitors: Friars who paid for the rights to beg in a specific territory. See the General Prologue’s friar, line 209.

49 incubus: Evil spirits believed to have intercourse with human women that always ended in pregnancy.

50 bittern: A bird that lives in marshes and whose voice resembles that of a bellowing ox.

51 Dante: Dante Alighieri (1265–1321), the prominent Florentine poet whose works elevating the vernacular for the purposes of sophisticated literary expression were important to the shape of Chaucer’s career. There are similarities here between the old woman’s ideas about intrinsic virtue and those found in Dante’s Convivio; but these ideas are also widespread and found in many sources in Chaucer’s time.

52 Valerius: Valerius Maximus, Roman author, early first century.

53 Tullius Hostellius: Third king of Rome, who rose to great heights from humble beginnings.

54 Boethius: Early Christian philosopher from Rome, late fifth through early sixth century, author of The Consolation of Philosophy, a work he wrote when he was imprisoned in Pavia and that Chaucer translated; it influenced Chaucer’s ideas about free will.

55 Juvenal: Roman poet (first to second century), who was most famous for his Satires.