The Wife of Bath's Tale PDF

The Wife of Bath’s Tale 50 Saying his matins and his holy things, Walking his limit round from town to town. from The Canterbury Tales Women can now go sa...

The Wife of Bath’s Tale 50 Saying his matins and his holy things, Walking his limit round from town to town. from The Canterbury Tales Women can now go safely up and down Geoffrey Chaucer, translated by Nevill By every bush or under every tree; Coghill There is no other incubus but he, 55 So there is really no one else to hurt you The Prologue And he will do no more than take your virtue. The Pardoner started up, and thereupon Now it so happened, I began to say, “Madam,” he said, “by God and by St. John, Long, long ago in good King Arthur’s day, There was a knight who was a lusty liver. That’s noble preaching no one could surpass! 60 One day as he came riding from the river I was about to take a wife; alas! He saw a maiden walking all forlorn 5 Am I to buy it on my flesh so dear? Ahead of him, alone as she was born. There’ll be no marrying for me this year!” “You wait,” she said, “my story’s not begun. And of that maiden, spite of all she said, You’ll taste another brew before I’ve done; By very force he took her maidenhead. You’ll find it doesn’t taste as good as ale; 65 This act of violence made such a stir, 10 And when I’ve finished telling you my tale So much petitioning to the king for her, Of tribulation in the married life That he condemned the knight to lose his head By course of law. He was as good as dead In which I’ve been an expert as a wife, (It seems that then the statutes took that view) That is to say, myself have been the whip. 70 But that the queen, and other ladies too, So please yourself whether you want to sip Implored the king to exercise his grace 15 At that same cask of marriage I shall broach. Be cautious before making the approach, So ceaselessly, he gave the queen the case For I’ll give instances, and more than ten. And granted her his life, and she could choose And those who won’t be warned by other men, Whether to show him mercy or refuse. By other men shall suffer their correction, 75 The queen returned him thanks with all her might, And then she sent a summons to the knight 20 So Ptolemy has said, in this connection. At her convenience, and expressed her will: You read his Almagest; you’ll find it there.” “You stand, for such is the position still, “Madam, I put it to you as a prayer,” In no way certain of your life,” said she, The Pardoner said, “go on as you began! 80 “Yet you shall live if you can answer me: Tell us your tale, spare not for any man. 25 Instruct us younger men in your technique.” What is the thing that women most desire? “Gladly,” she said, “if you will let me speak, Beware the axe and say as I require. But still I hope the company won’t reprove me “If you can’t answer on the moment, though, Though I should speak as fantasy may move me, I will concede you this: You are to go 85 A twelvemonth and a day to seek and learn And please don’t be offended at my views; Sufficient answer, then you shall return. 30 They’re really only offered to amuse. I shall take gages from you to extort Surrender of your body to the court.” The Tale Sad was the knight and sorrowfully sighed, When good King Arthur ruled in ancient days 90 But there! All other choices were denied, (A king that every Briton loves to praise) And in the end he chose to go away This was a land brim-full of fairy folk. And to return after a year and day The Elf-Queen and her courtiers joined and broke Armed with such answer as there might be sent 35 Their elfin dance on many a green mead, To him by God. He took his leave and went. Or so was the opinion once, I read, 95 He knocked at every house, searched every place, Hundreds of years ago, in days of yore. Yes, anywhere that offered hope of grace. But no one now sees fairies any more. What could it be that women wanted most? For now the saintly charity and prayer But all the same he never touched a coast, 40 Of holy friars seem to have purged the air; Country, or town in which there seemed to be They search the countryside through field and stream 100 Any two people willing to agree. As thick as motes that speckle a sun-beam, Some said that women wanted wealth and treasure, Blessing the halls, the chambers, kitchens, bowers, “Honor,” said some, some “Jollity and pleasure,” Cities and boroughs, castles, courts and towers, Some “Gorgeous clothes” and others “Fun in bed,” 45 Thorpes, barns and stables, outhouses and dairies, “To be oft widowed and remarried,” said And that’s the reason why there are no fairies. 105 Others again, and some that what most mattered Wherever there was wont to walk an elf Was that we should be cossetted and flattered. To-day there walks the holy friar himself That’s very near the truth, it seems to me; As evening falls or when the daylight springs, A man can win us best with flattery.  To dance attendance on us, make a fuss, Of four and twenty ladies, nay, and more. 110 Ensnares us all, the best and worst of us. Eagerly he approached, in hope to learn Some say the things we most desire are these: 170 Some words of wisdom ere he should return; Freedom to do exactly as we please, But lo! Before he came to where they were, With no one to reprove our faults and lies, Dancers and dance all vanished into air! Rather to have one call us good and wise. There wasn’t a living creature to be seen 115 Truly there’s not a woman in ten score Save one old woman crouched upon the green. Who has a fault, and someone rubs the sore, 175 A fouler-looking creature I suppose But she will kick if what he says is true; Could scarcely be imagined. She arose You try it out and you will find so too. And said, “Sir knight, there’s no way on from here. However vicious we may be within Tell me what you are looking for, my dear, 120 We like to be thought wise and void of sin. For peradventure that were best for you; Others assert we women find it sweet 180 We old, old women know a thing or two.” When we are thought dependable, discreet “Dear Mother,” said the knight, “alack the day! And secret, firm of purpose and controlled, I am as good as dead if I can’t say Never betraying things that we are told. What thing it is that women most desire; 125 But that’s not worth the handle of a rake; If you could tell me I would pay your hire.” Women conceal a thing? For Heaven’s sake! 185 “Give me your hand,” she said, “and swear to do Remember Midas? Will you hear the tale? Whatever I shall next require of you Among some other little things, now stale, —If so to do should lie within your might— Ovid relates that under his long hair And you shall know the answer before night.” 130 The unhappy Midas grew a splendid pair “Upon my honor,” he answered, “I agree.” Of ass’s ears; as subtly as he might, 190 “Then,” said the crone, “I dare to guarantee He kept his foul deformity from sight; Your life is safe; I shall make good my claim. Save for his wife, there was not one that knew. Upon my life the queen will say the same. He loved her best, and trusted in her too. Show me the very proudest of them all 135 He begged her not to tell a living creature In costly coverchief or jeweled caul That he possessed so horrible a feature. 195 That dare say no to what I have to teach. And she—she swore, were all the world to win, Let us go forward without further speech.” She would not do such villainy and sin And then she crooned her gospel in his ear As saddle her husband with so foul a name; And told him to be glad and not to fear. 140 Besides to speak would be to share the shame. They came to court. This knight, in full array, Nevertheless she thought she would have died 200 Stood forth and said, “O Queen, I’ve kept my day Keeping this secret bottled up inside; And kept my word and have my answer ready.” It seemed to swell her heart and she, no doubt, There sat the noble matrons and the heady Thought it was on the point of bursting out. Young girls, and widows too, that have the grace Fearing to speak of it to woman or man, Of wisdom, all assembled in that place, Down to a reedy marsh she quickly ran 205 And there the queen herself was throned to hear And reached the sedge. Her heart was all on fire And judge his answer. Then the knight drew near And, as a bittern bumbles in the mire, And silence was commanded through the hall. She whispered to the water, near the ground, The queen gave order he should tell them all 150 “Betray me not, O water, with thy sound! What thing it was that women wanted most. To thee alone I tell it: It appears 210 He stood not silent like a beast or post, My husband has a pair of ass’s ears! But gave his answer with the ringing word Ah! My heart’s well again, the secret’s out! Of a man’s voice and the assembly heard: I could no longer keep it, not a doubt.” “My liege and lady, in general,” said he, 155 And so you see, although we may hold fast “A woman wants the self-same sovereignty A little while, it must come out at last, 215 Over her husband as over her lover, We can’t keep secrets; as for Midas, well, And master him; he must not be above her. Read Ovid for his story; he will tell. That is your greatest wish, whether you kill This knight that I am telling you about Or spare me; please yourself. I wait your will.” 160 Perceived at last he never would find out In all the court not one that shook her head What it could be that women loved the best. 220 Or contradicted what the knight had said; Faint was the soul within his sorrowful breast, Maid, wife, and widow cried, “He’s saved his life!” As home he went, he dared no longer stay; And on the word up started the old wife, His year was up and now it was the day. The one the knight saw sitting on the green, 165 As he rode home in a dejected mood And cried, “Your mercy, sovereign lady queen! Suddenly, at the margin of a wood, 225 Before the court disperses, do me right! He saw a dance upon the leafy floor ’Twas I who taught this answer to the knight,  For which he swore, and pledged his honor to it, Such as descends from ancient wealth and worth. That the first thing I asked of him he’d do it, If that’s the claim you make for gentlemen So far as it should lie within his might. Such arrogance is hardly worth a hen. 230 Before this court I ask you then, sir knight, Whoever loves to work for virtuous ends, To keep your word and take me for your wife; 290 Public and private, and who most intends For well you know that I have saved your life. To do what deeds of gentleness he can, If this be false, deny it on your sword!” Take him to be the greatest gentleman. “Alas!” he said, “Old lady, by the Lord Christ wills we take our gentleness from Him, 235 I know indeed that such was my behest, Not from a wealth of ancestry long dim, But for God’s love think of a new request, 295 Though they bequeath their whole establishment Take all my goods, but leave my body free.” By which we claim to be of high descent. “A curse on us,” she said, “if I agree! Our fathers cannot make us a bequest I may be foul, I may be poor and old, Of all those virtues that became them best 240 Yet will not choose to be, for all the gold And earned for them the name of gentlemen, That’s bedded in the earth or lies above, 300 But bade us follow them as best we can. Less than your wife, nay, than your very love!” “Thus the wise poet of the Florentines, “My love?” said he. “By heaven, my damnation! Dante by name, has written in these lines, Alas that any of my race and station For such is the opinion Dante launches: 245 Should ever make so foul a misalliance!” ‘Seldom arises by these slender branches Yet in the end his pleading and defiance 305 Prowess of men, for it is God, no less, All went for nothing, he was forced to wed. Wills us to claim of Him our gentleness.’ He takes his ancient wife and goes to bed. For of our parents nothing can we claim Now peradventure some may well suspect Save temporal things, and these may hurt and maim. 250 A lack of care in me since I neglect “But everyone knows this as well as I; To tell of the rejoicings and display 310 For if gentility were implanted by Made at the feast upon their wedding-day. The natural course of lineage down the line, I have but a short answer to let fall; Public or private, could it cease to shine I say there was no joy or feast at all, In doing the fair work of gentle deed? 255 Nothing but heaviness of heart and sorrow. No vice or villainy could then bear seed. He married her in private on the morrow 315 “Take fire and carry it to the darkest house And all day long stayed hidden like an owl, Between this kingdom and the Caucasus, It was such torture that his wife looked foul. And shut the doors on it and leave it there, Great was the anguish churning in his head It will burn on, and it will burn as fair 260 When he and she were piloted to bed; As if ten thousand men were there to see, He wallowed back and forth in desperate style. 320 For fire will keep its nature and degree, His ancient wife lay smiling all the while; I can assure you, sir, until it dies. At last she said “Bless us! Is this, my dear, “But gentleness, as you will recognize, How knights and wives get on together here? Is not annexed in nature to possessions. 265 Are these the laws of good King Arthur’s house? Men fail in living up to their professions; Are knights of his all so contemptuous? 325 But fire never ceases to be fire. I am your own beloved and your wife, God knows you’ll often find, if you inquire, And I am she, indeed, that saved your life; Some lording full of villainy and shame. And certainly I never did you wrong. If you would be esteemed for the mere name 270 Then why, this first of nights, so sad a song? Of having been by birth a gentleman You’re carrying on as if you were half-witted 330 And stemming from some virtuous, noble clan, Say, for God’s love, what sin have I committed? And do not live yourself by gentle deed I’ll put things right if you will tell me how.” Or take your father’s noble code and creed, “Put right?” he cried. “That never can be now! You are no gentleman, though duke or earl. 275 Nothing can ever be put right again! Vice and bad manners are what make a churl. You’re old, and so abominably plain, 335 “Gentility is only the renown So poor to start with, so low-bred to follow; For bounty that your fathers handed down, It’s little wonder if I twist and wallow! Quite foreign to your person, not your own; God, that my heart would burst within my breast!” Gentility must come from God alone. 280 “Is that,” said she, “the cause of your unrest?” That we are gentle comes to us by grace “Yes, certainly,” he said, “and can you wonder?” 340 And by no means is it bequeathed with place. “I could set right what you suppose a blunder, “Reflect how noble (says Valerius) That’s if I cared to, in a day or two, Was Tullius surnamed Hostilius, If I were shown more courtesy by you. Who rose from poverty to nobleness. 285 Just now,” she said, “you spoke of gentle birth, And read Boethius, Seneca no less, 345 Thus they express themselves and are agreed: The knight thought long, and with a piteous groan ‘Gentle is he that does a gentle deed.’ 405 At last he said, with all the care in life, And therefore, my dear husband, I conclude “My lady and my love, my dearest wife, That even if my ancestors were rude, I leave the matter to your wise decision. Yet God on high—and so I hope He will— You make the choice yourself, for the provision 350 Can grant me grace to live in virtue still, Of what may be agreeable and rich A gentlewoman only when beginning 410 In honor to us both, I don’t care which; To live in virtue and to shrink from sinning. Whatever pleases you suffices me.” “As for my poverty which you reprove, “And have I won the mastery?” said she, Almighty God Himself in whom we move, “Since I’m to choose and rule as I think fit?” 355 Believe, and have our being, chose a life “Certainly, wife,” he answered her, “that’s it.” Of poverty, and every man or wife 415 “Kiss me,” she cried. “No quarrels! On my oath Nay, every child can see our Heavenly King And word of honor, you shall find me both, Would never stoop to choose a shameful thing. That is, both fair and faithful as a wife; No shame in poverty if the heart is gay, May I go howling mad and take my life 360 As Seneca and all the learned say. Unless I prove to be as good and true He who accepts his poverty unhurt 420 As ever wife was since the world was new! I’d say is rich although he lacked a shirt. And if to-morrow when the sun’s above But truly poor are they who whine and fret I seem less fair than any lady-love, And covet what they cannot hope to get. Than any queen or empress east or west, 365 And he that, having nothing, covets not, Do with my life and death as you think best. Is rich, though you may think he is a sot. 425 Cast up the curtain, husband. Look at me!” “True poverty can find a song to sing. And when indeed the knight had looked to see, Juvenal says a pleasant little thing: Lo, she was young and lovely, rich in charms. ‘The poor can dance and sing in the relief In ecstasy he caught her in his arms, 370 Of having nothing that will tempt a thief.’ His heart went bathing in a bath of blisses Though it be hateful, poverty is good, 430 And melted in a hundred thousand kisses, A great incentive to a livelihood, And she responded in the fullest measure And a great help to our capacity With all that could delight or give him pleasure. For wisdom, if accepted patiently. So they lived ever after to the end 375 Poverty is, though wanting in estate, In perfect bliss; and may Christ Jesus send A kind of wealth that none calumniate. 435 Us husbands meek and young and fresh in bed, Poverty often, when the heart is lowly, And grace to overbid them when we wed. Brings one to God and teaches what is holy, And—Jesu hear my prayer!—cut short the lives Gives knowledge of oneself and even lends Of those who won’t be governed by their wives; 380 A glass by which to see one’s truest friends. And all old, angry niggards of their pence, And since it’s no offense, let me be plain; 440 God send them soon a very pestilence! Do not rebuke my poverty again. “Lastly you taxed me, sir, with being old. Yet even if you never had been told 385 By ancient books, you gentlemen engage Yourselves in honor to respect old age. To call an old man ‘father’ shows good breeding, And this could be supported from my reading. “You say I’m old and fouler than a fen. 390 You need not fear to be a cuckold, then. Filth and old age, I’m sure you will agree, Are powerful wardens over chastity. Nevertheless, well knowing your delights, I shall fulfill your worldly appetites. 395 “You have two choices; which one will you try? To have me old and ugly till I die, But still a loyal, true, and humble wife That never will displease you all her life, Or would you rather I were young and pretty 400 And chance your arm what happens in a city Where friends will visit you because of me, Yes, and in other places too, maybe. Which would you have? The choice is all your own.”