Alla the kyng comth hoom, soone after this,
Unto his castel of the which I tolde,
And asketh where his wyf and his child is.
The constable gan aboute his herte colde,
880 And pleynly al the manere he hym tolde,
As ye han herd - I kan telle it no bettre -
And sheweth the kyng his seel and eek his lettre,


       Alla the king came home soon after this
Unto his castle, of the which I've told,
And asked for wife and child, whom he did miss.
The constable about his heart grew cold,
880 And plainly all the story he then told,
As you have heard, I cannot tell it better,
And showed the king his seal and the false letter.


And seyde, "Lord, as ye comanded me,
Up peyne of deeth, so have I doon, certein."
885 This messager tormented was til he
Moste biknowe, and tellen plat and pleyn
Fro nyght to nyght in what place he had leyn,
And thus, by wit and sotil enquerynge,
Ymagined was, by whom this harm gan sprynge.


And said, "My lord, as you commanded me,
On pain of death, so have I done- in vain!"
885 The messenger was tortured until he
Made known the facts to all men, full and plain,
From night to night, in what beds he had lain.
And thus, by dint of subtle questioning,
'Twas reasoned out from whom this harm did spring.


890        The hand was knowe that the lettre wroot,
And al the venym of this cursed dede,
But in what wise certeinly I noot.
Th'effect is this, that Alla, out of drede,
His mooder slow - that may men pleynly rede -
895 For that she traitoure was to hir ligeance,
Thus endeth olde Donegild, with meschance!


890        The hand was known, now, that the letter wrote,
And all the venom of this cursed deed,
But in what wise I certainly know not,
The effect is this, that Alla, for her meed,
His mother slew, as men may plainly read,
895 She being false to her sworn allegiance,
And thus old Donegild ended with mischance.

       The sorwe that this Alla, nyght and day,
Maketh for his wyf, and for his child also,
Ther is no tonge that it telle may-
900 But now wol I unto Custance go,
That fleteth in the see in peyne and wo,
Fyve yeer and moore, as liked Cristes sonde,
Er that hir ship approched unto londe.


       The sorrow that this Alla, night and day,
Felt for his wife, and for his child also,
There is no human tongue on earth to say.
900 But now will I back to fair Constance go,
Who drifted on the seas, in pain and woe,
Five years and more, as was Lord Christ's command,
Before her ship approached to any land.


       Under an hethen castel, atte laste,
905 Of which the name in my text toght I fynde,
Custance and eek hir child the see upcaste.
Almyghty god that saved al mankynde,
Have on Custance and on hir child som mynde,
That fallen is in hethen hand eft soone,
910 In point to spille, as I shal telle yow soone.


       Under a heathen castle, at the last,
905 Whereof the name not in my text I find,
Constance and her young son the sea did cast.
Almighty God, Redeemer of mankind,
Have Constance and her little child in mind!
Who must fall into heathen hands and soon
910 Be near to death, as I shall tell anon.

       Doun fro the castel comth ther many a wight
To gauren on this ship and on Custance,
But shortly from the castel on a nyght
The lordes styward - God yeve hym meschance!-
915 A theef that hadde reneyed oure creance,
Cam into the ship allone, and seyde he sholde
Hir lemman be, wherso she wolde or nolde.


       Down from the castle came full many a wight
To stare upon the ship and on Constance.
But briefly, from the castle, on a night,
The warden's steward- God give him mischance!-
915 A thief who had renounced allegiance
To Christ, came to the ship and said he should
Possess her body, whether or not she would.


       Wo was this wrecched womman tho bigon!
Hir child cride, and she cride pitously,
920 But blisful Marie heelp hir right anon,
For with hir struglyng wel and myghtily,
The theef fil over bord al sodeynly,
And in the see he dreynte for vengeance,
And thus hath Crist unwemmed kept Custance.


       Woe for this wretched woman then began,
Her child cried out and she cried, piteously;
920 But blessed Mary helped her soon; the man
With whom she struggled well and mightily,
This thief fell overboard all suddenly,
And in the sea was drowned by God's vengeance;
And thus has Christ unsullied kept Constance.

925        O foule lust of luxurie, lo, thyn ende!
Nat oonly that thou feyntest mannes mynde,
But verraily thou wolt his body shende.
Th'ende of thy werk or of thy lustes blynde
Is compleynyng. Hou many oon may men fynde,
930 That noght for werk somtyme, but for th'entente
To doon this synne, been outher slayn or shente!


925        O foul desire of lechery, lo thine end!
Not only dost thou cripple a man's mind,
But verily dost thou his body rend;
The end of all thy work and thy lusts blind
Is bitterness; how many may we find
930 That not for actions but for mere intent
To do this sin, to shame or death are sent.


How may this wayke womman han this strengthe
Hire to defende agayn this renegat?
O Golias, unmesurable of lengthe,
935 Hou myghte David make thee so maat,
So yong, and of armure so desolaat?
Hou dorste he looke upon thy dredful face?
Wel may men seen, it nas but Goddes grace!


How could this poor weak woman have the strength
To keep herself against that renegade?
Goliath of immeasurable length,
935 How could young David such a death have made,
So slight and without armour? How arrayed
Himself to look upon that dreadful face?
Men may well see, it was but God's own grace!


Who yaf Judith corage or hardynesse
940 To sleen hym, Olofernus, in his tente,
And to deliveren out of wrecchednesse
The peple of God? I seyde, for this entente
That right as God spirit of vigour sente
To hem, and saved hem out of meschance,
945 So sente he myght and vigour to Custance.


Who gave to Judith courage all reckless
940 To slay him, Holofernes, in his tent,
And to deliver out of wretchedness
The folk of God? I say, for this intent
That just as God a soul of vigour sent
To them, and saved them out of their mischance,
945 So sent He might and vigour to Constance.


       Forth gooth hir ship thurghout the narwe mouth
Of Jubaltar and Septe, dryvynge alway,
Somtyme west, and somtyme north and south,
And somtyme est, ful many a wery day;
950 Til Cristes mooder - blessed be she ay! -
Hath shapen, thurgh hir endelees goodnesse,
To make an ende of al hir hevynesse.


       Forth went her ship and through the narrow mouth
Of Ceuta and Gibraltar, on its way,
Sometimes to west, and sometimes north or south,
Aye and sometimes east, many a weary day,
950 Until Christ's Mother - blest be she for aye! -
Did destine, out of good that is endless,
To make an end of Constance' heaviness.

       Now lat us stynte of Custance but a throwe,
And speke we of the Romayn Emperour,
955 That out of Surrye hath by lettres knowe
The slaughtre of Cristen folk, and dishonour
Doon to his doghter by a fals traytour,
I mene the cursed wikked Sowdanesse,
That at the feeste leet sleen both moore and lesse;


       But let us leave this Constance now, and turn
To speak of that same Roman emperor
955 Who does, from Syria, by letters, learn
The slaughter of Christians and the dishonour
Done to his daughter by a vile traitor -
I mean that old sultana, years ago,
Who, at the feast, slew all men, high and low.


960 For which this emperour hath sent anon
His senatour with roial ordinance,
And othere lordes, God woot many oon,
On Surryens to taken heigh vengeance.
They brennen, sleen, and brynge hem to meschance
965 Ful many a day, but shortly, this is th'ende,
Homward to Rome they shapen hem to wende.


960 For which this emperor did send anon
A senator, with royal ordinance,
And other lords, God knows, and many a one,
On Syrians to take full high vengeance.
They burn, they slay, they give them all mischance
965 Through many a day; but, briefly to make end,
Homeward to Rome, at last, the victors wend.

       This senatour repaireth with victorie
To Rome-ward saillynge ful roially,
And mette the ship dryvynge, as seith the storie,
970 In which Custance sit ful pitously.
Nothyng ne knew he what she was, ne why
She was in swich array, ne she nyl seye
Of hire estaat, thogh that she sholde deye.


       This senator returned with victory
To Rome again, sailing right royally,
And found the drifting ship, so tells the story
970 In which our Constance sat so piteously,
Nothing he knew of who she was, or why
She was in such a condition; nor would she say
Aught of herself, though she might die that day.


He bryngeth hire to Rome, and to his wyf
975 He yaf hire, and hir yonge sone also,
And with the senatour she ladde hir lyf.
Thus kan oure Lady bryngen out of wo
Woful Custance, and many another mo.
And longe tyme dwelled she in that place,
980 In hooly werkes evere, as was hir grace.


He took her into Rome, and to his wife
975 Gave her in charge, and her young son also;
And in his house she lived awhile her life.
Thus can Our Lady bring from deepest woe
Most woeful Constance, aye and more, we know.
And for a long time dwelt she in that place,
980 Engaged in God's good works, such was her grace.


The senatoures wyf hir aunte was,
But for all that she knew hir never the moore.
I wol no lenger tarien in this cas,
But to kyng Alla, which I spake of yoore,
985 That wepeth for his wyf and siketh soore,
I wol retourne, and lete I wol Custance
Under the senatoures governance.


The senator's good wife her own aunt was,
Yet for all that she knew her never the more;
I will no longer tarry in this case,
But to King Alla, whom we left, of yore,
985 Weeping for his lost wife and sighing sore.
I will return, and I will leave Constance
Under the senator's roof and governance.

       Kyng Alla, which that hadde his mooder slayn,
Upon a day fil in swich repentance
990 That, if I shortly tellen shal and playn,
To Rome he comth, to receyven his penance;
And putte hym in the popes ordinance
In heigh and logh, and Jesu Crist bisoghte
Foryeve hise wikked werkes that he wroghte.


       King Alla, who had had his mother slain,
Upon a day fell to such repentance,
990 That, but to tell it briefly and be plain,
To Rome he came to pay his just penance
And put himself in the pope's ordinance,
In high and low; and Jesus Christ he sought
To pardon all the wicked deeds he'd wrought.


995        The fame anon thurgh Rome toun is born
How Alla kyng shal comen on pilgrymage,
By herbergeours that wenten hym biforn,
For which the Senatour, as was usage,
Rood hym agayns, and many of his lynage,
1000 As wel to shewen his heighe magnificence
As to doon any kyng a reverence.


995        The news anon through all Rome town was borne,
How King Alla would come on pilgrimage,
By harbingers that unto him were sworn;
Whereat the senator, as was usage,
Rode out to him, with many of his lineage,
1000 As well to show his own magnificence
As do to any king a reverence.

       Greet cheere dooth this noble senatour
To kyng Alla, and he to hym also,
Everich of hem dooth oother greet honour;
1005 And so bifel, that inwith a day or two
This senatour is to kyng Alla go
To feste; and shortly, if I shal nat lye,
Custances sone wente in his compaignye.


       Great welcome gave this noble senator
To King Alla, and he to him also;
Each of them showed the other much honour;
1005 And so befell that, in a day or so,
This senator to King Alla did go
To feast, and briefly, if I may not lie,
Constance' young son went in his company.


       Som men wolde seyn, at requeste of Custance
1010 This senatour hath lad this child to feeste;
I may nat tellen every circumstance,
Be as be may, ther was he at the leeste,
But sooth is this, that at his moodres heeste
Biforn Alla durynge the metes space,
1015 The child stood, lookynge in the kynges face.


       Some men would say, 'twas instance of Constance
1010 That sent him with the senator to feast;
I cannot tell you every circumstance,
Be it as may be, he was there, at least.
But truth is that, at his mother's behest,
Before the king, during the banquet's space,
1015 The child stood, looking in King Alla's face.


This Alla kyng hath of this child greet wonder,
And to the senatour he seyde anon,
"Whos is that faire child, that stondeth yonder?"
"I noot," quod he, "by God and by Seint John!
1020 A mooder he hath, but fader hath he noon,
That I of woot." But shortly, in a stounde,
He tolde Alla how that this child was founde.


This child aroused within the king great wonder,
And to the senator he said, anon:
"Whose is the fair child that is standing yonder?"
"I know not," said he, "by God and Saint John!
1020 A mother he has, but father has he none
That I know of"- and briefly, at a bound,
He told King Alla how this child was found.


"But God woot," quod this senatour also,
"So vertuous a lyvere in my lyf
1025 Ne saugh I nevere as she, ne herde of mo
Of worldly wommen, mayde, ne of wyf;
I dar wel seyn, hir hadde levere a knyf
Thurghout hir brest, than ben a womman wikke,
There is no man koude brynge hir to that prikke."


"But God knows," said this senator, as well,
"So virtuous a liver, in my life
1025 I never saw, as she is, nor heard tell
Of earthly woman, maiden, no nor wife.
I dare say, she would rather have a knife
Thrust through her breast than play a female trick;
There is no man could bring her to the prick."

1030        Now was this child as lyke unto Custance,
As possible is a creature to be.
This Alla hath the face in remembrance
Of dame Custance, and theron mused he,
If that the childes mooder were aught she
1035 That is his wyf; and prively he sighte
And spedde hym fro the table that he myghte.


1030        Now this boy was as like unto Constance
As it was possible for one to be.
Alla had kept the face in remembrance
Of Dame Constance, and thereon now mused he:
Mayhap the mother of the child was she
1035 Who was his wife; and inwardly he sighed,
And left the table with a hasty stride.


"Parfay," thoghte he, "fantome is in myn heed!
I oghte deme, of skilful juggement,
That in the salte see my wyf is deed."
1040 And afterward he made his argument:
"What woot I, if that Crist have hyder ysent
My wyf by see, as wel as he hir sente
To my contree fro thennes that she wente?"


"In faith," thought he, "a phantom's in my head!
I ought to hold, by any right judgment,
That in the wide salt sea my wife is dead."
1040 And afterward he made this argument:
"How know I but that Christ has hither sent
My wife by sea, as surely as she went
To my own land, the which was evident?"


And, after noon, hoom with the senatour
1045 Goth Alla, for to seen this wonder chaunce.
This senatour dooth Alla greet honour,
And hastifly he sente after Custance.
But trusteth weel, hir liste nat to daunce
Whan that she wiste wherfore was that sonde;
1050 Unnethe upon hir feet she myghte stonde.


And, after noon, home with the senator
1045 Went Alla, all to test this wondrous chance.
The senator did Alla great honour,
And hastily he sent for fair Constance.
But, trust me, she was little fain to dance
When she had heard the cause of that command.
1050 Scarcely upon her two feet could she stand.


       Whan Alla saugh his wyf, faire he hir grette,
And weep, that it was routhe for to see.
For at the firste look he on hir sette,
He knew wel verraily that it was she.
1055 And she for sorwe, as doumb stant as a tree,
So was hir herte shet in hir distresse,
Whan she remembred his unkyndenesse.


       When Alla saw his wife, he greeted her,
Then wept till it was a sad thing to see.
For, at the first glance, when she entered there,
He knew full truly that it was she.
1055 And she for grief stood dumb as ever tree;
So was her heart shut up in her distress
When she remembered his unkindliness.


Twyes she swowned in his owene sighte.
He weep, and hym excuseth pitously.
1060 "Now God," quod he, "and alle hise halwes brighte
So wisly on my soule as have mercy,
That of youre harm as giltelees am I
As is Maurice my sone, so lyk youre face;
Elles the feend me fecche out of this place!"


Twice did she swoon away there, in his sight;
He wept and he protested piteously.
1060 "Now God," said he, "and all His angels bright
So truly on my spirit have mercy
As of your ills all innocent am I,
As is Maurice, my son, so like your face,
Or may the foul devil take me from this place!"


1065        Long was the sobbyng and the bitter peyne
Er that hir woful hertes myghte cesse,
Greet was the pitee for to heere hem pleyne,
Thurgh whiche pleintes gan hir wo encresse.
I pray yow alle my labour to relesse;
1070 I may nat telle hir wo until tomorwe,
I am so wery for to speke of sorwe.


1065        Long was the sobbing and the bitter pain
Before their woeful hearts could find surcease;
Great was the pity to hear them complain,
Whereof their sorrows surely did increase.
I pray you all my labour to release;
1070 I cannot tell their grief until tomorrow,
I am so weary, speaking long of sorrow.


But finally, whan that the sothe is wist,
That Alla giltelees was of hir wo,
I trowe an hundred tymes been they kist,
1075 And swich a blisse is ther bitwix hem two,
That, save the joye that lasteth everemo
Ther is noon lyk that any creature
Hath seyn, or shal, whil that the world may dure.


But, truth being known and all doubt now dismissed,
And Alla proven guiltless of her woe,
I think a hundred times they must have kissed,
1075 And such great bliss there was between the two
That, save the joy that nevermore shall go,
There was naught like it, present time or past,
Nor shall be, ever, while the world shall last.

Tho preyde she hir housbonde mekely,
1080 In relief of hir longe pitous pyne,
That he wolde preye hir fader specially
That, of his magestee, he wolde enclyne
To vouche sauf som day with hym to dyne.
She preyde hym eek, he wolde by no weye
1085 Unto hir fader no word of hir seye.


Then prayed she of her husband, all meekly,
1080 As for her pain a splendid anodyne,
That he would pray her father, specially,
That, of his majesty, he would incline
And that, some day, would come with him to dine;
She prayed him, also, he should in no way
1085 Unto her father one word of her say.


       Som men wolde seyn, how that the child Maurice
Dooth this message unto this emperour,
But, as I gesse, Alla was nat so nyce
To hym that was of so sovereyn honour,
1090 As he that is of Cristen folk the flour,
Sente any child, but it is bet to deeme
He wente hymself, and so it may wel seeme.


       Some men would say, it was the child Maurice
Did bear this message to the emperor;
But, as I guess, King Alla was too nice
In etiquette to one of such honour
1090 As he that was of Christendom the flower,
To send a child; and it is best to deem
He went himself, and so it well may seem.


       This emperour hath graunted gentilly
To come to dyner, as he hym bisoughte,
1095 And wel rede I he looked bisily
Upon this child, and on his doghter thoghte.
Alla goth to his in, and as him oghte
Arrayed for this feste in every wise
As ferforth as his konnyng may suffise.


       This emperor has granted, graciously,
To come to dinner, as he's been besought,
1095 And, well I think, he pondered busily
Upon the child, and on his daughter thought.
Alla went to his inn, and, as he ought,
Made ready for the feast in every wise
As far as his experience could devise.


1100        The morwe cam, and Alla gan hym dresse
And eek his wyf, this emperour to meete,
And forth they ryde in joye and in galdnesse,
And whan she saugh hir fader in the strete,
She lighte doun and falleth hym to feete.
1105 "Fader," quod she, "youre yonge child Custance
Is now ful clene out of youre remembrance.


1100        The morrow came, and Alla rose to dress,
And, too, his wife, the emperor to meet;
And forth they rode in joy and happiness.
And when she saw her father in the street,
She lighted down, and falling at his feet,
1105 "Father," said she, "your young child, your Constance,
Is now gone clean out of your remembrance.


I am youre doghter Custance," quod she,
"That whilom ye han sent unto Surrye.
It am I, fader, that in the salte see
1110 Was put allone, and dampned for to dye.
Now goode fader, mercy I yow crye,
Sende me namoore unto noon hethenesse,
But thonketh my lord heere of his kyndenesse."


I am your daughter Constance," then said she,
"That once you sent to Syria. 'Tis I.
It is I, father, who, on the salt sea,
1110 Was sent, alone to drift and doomed to die.
But now, good father, mercy must I cry:
Send me no more to heathendom, godless,
But thank my lord, here, for his kindliness."


       Who kan the pitous joye tellen al
1115 Bitwixe hem thre, syn they been thus ymette?
But of my tale make an ende I shal,
The day goth faste, I wol no lenger lette.
This glade folk to dyner they hem sette,
In joye and blisse at mete I lete hem dwelle,
1120 A thousand foold wel moore than I kan telle.


       But all the tender joy, who'll tell it all
1115 That was between the three who thus are met?
But of my tale, now, make an end I shall;
The day goes fast, I will no longer fret.
These happy folk at dinner are all set,
And there, in joy and bliss, I let them dwell;
1120 Happier a thousand fold than I can tell.

       This child Maurice was sithen emperour
Maad by the pope, and lyved cristenly.
To Cristes chirche he dide greet honour;
But I lete all his storie passen by-
1125 Of Custance is my tale specially-
In the olde Romayn geestes may men fynde
Maurices lyf; I bere it noght in mynde.


       This child Maurice was, since then, emperor
Made by the pope, and lived right christianly.
Unto Christ's Church he did a great honour;
But I let all his story pass me by.
1125 Of Constance is my tale, especially.
In ancient Roman histories men may find
The life of Maurice; I've it not in mind.

       This kyng Alla, whan he his tyme say,
With his Custance, his hooly wyf so sweete,
1130 To Engelond been they come the righte way,
Wher as they lyve in joye and in quiete.
But litel while it lasteth, I yow heete,
Joye of this world, for tyme wol nat abyde;
Fro day to nyght it changeth as the tyde.


       This King Alla, when came the proper day,
With his Constance, his saintly wife so sweet,
1130 To England went again, by the straight way,
Where they did live in joy and quiet meet.
But little while it lasts us, thus complete.
Joy of this world, for time will not abide;
From day to day it changes as the tide.


1135 Who lyved evere in swich delit o day
That hym ne moeved outher conscience
Or ire, or talent, or som-kyn affray,
Envye, or pride, or passion, or offence?
I ne seye but for this ende this sentence,
1140 That litel while in joye or in plesance
Lasteth the blisse of Alla with Custance.


1135 Who ever lived in such delight one day
That was not stirred therefrom by his conscience,
Desire, or anger, or some kindred fray,
Envy, or pride, or passion, or offense?
I say but to one ending this sentence:
1140 That but a little while in joy's pleasance
Lasted the bliss of Alla and Constance.

For deeth, that taketh of heigh and logh his rente,
Whan passed was a yeer, evene as I gesse,
Out of this world this kyng Alla he hente,
1145 For whom Custance hath ful greet hevynesse.
Now lat us praye God his soule blesse,
And dame Custance, finally to seye,
Toward the toun of Rome goth hir weye.


For death, that takes from high and low his rent,
When but a year had passed, as I should guess,
Out of the world King Alla quickly sent,
1145 For whom Constance felt heavy wretchedness.
Now let us pray that God his soul will bless!
And of Dame Constance, finally to say,
Towards the town of Rome she took her way.

       To Rome is come this hooly creature,
1150 And fyndeth ther hir freendes hoole and sounde.
Now is she scaped al hire aventure,
And whan that she hir fader hath yfounde,
Doun on hir knees falleth she to grounde,
Wepynge for tendrenesse, in herte blithe,
1155 She heryeth God an hundred thousande sithe.


       To Rome is come this holy one and pure,
1150 And finds that all her friends are safe and sound;
For now she's done with all her adventure;
And when she'd come there, and her father found,
Down on her two knees fell she to the ground,
Weeping but joyful gave she God her praise
1155 A hundred thousand times for all his ways.


       In vertu and in hooly almus-dede
They lyven alle, and never asonder wende
Til

       Owre Hoost upon his stiropes stood anon,
And seyde, "Goode men, herkeneth everych on!
1165 This was a thrifty tale for the nones!
Sir Parisshe Prest," quod he, "for Goddes bones,
Telle us a tale, as was thi forward yore.
I se wel that ye lerned men in lore
Can moche good, by Goddes dignitee!"


       Our host upon his stirrups stood, anon,
And said: "Good men, now listen, every one;
1165 This was useful story, for the nonce!
Sir parish priest," said he, "for God his bones.
Tell us a tale, as you agreed before.
I see well that you learned men of lore
Have learned much good, by God's great dignity!"


1170        The Parson him answerde, "Benedicite!
What eyleth the man, so synfully to swere?"
Oure Host answerde, "O Jankin, be ye there?
I smelle a Lollere in the wynd," quod he.
"Now! goode men," quod oure Hoste, "herkeneth me;
1175 Abydeth, for Goddes digne passioun,
For we schal han a predicacioun;
This Lollere heer wil prechen us somwhat."


1170        The parson answered: "Benedicite!
What ails the man, so sinfully to swear?"
Our host replied: "Ho, Jenkin, are you there?
I smell a Lollard in the wind," said he.
"Ho, good men!" said our host, "now listen to me;
1175 Wait but a bit, for God's high passion do,
For we shall have a sermon before we're through;
This Lollard here will preach to us somewhat."


       "Nay, by my fader soule, that schal he nat!"
Seyde the Shipman, "Heer schal he nat preche;
1180 He schal no gospel glosen here ne teche.
We leven alle in the grete God," quod he;
"He wolde sowen som difficulte,
Or springen cokkel in oure clene corn.
And therfore, Hoost, I warne thee biforn,
1185 My joly body schal a tale telle,
And I schal clynken you so merry a belle,
That I schal waken al this compaignie.
But it schal not ben of philosophie,
Ne phislyas, ne termes queinte of lawe.
1190 Ther is but litel Latyn in my mawe!"


       "Nay, by my father's soul, that shall he not!"
Replied the sailor; "Here he shall not preach,
1180 Nor comment on the gospels here, nor teach.
We all believe in the great God," said he,
"But he would sow among us difficulty,
Or sprinkle cockles in our good clean corn;
And therefore, host, beforehand now, I warn
1185 My jolly body shall a story tell
And I will clink for you so merry a bell
That it shall waken all this company;
But it shall not be of philosophy,
Nor yet of physics, nor quaint terms of law;
1190 There is but little Latin in my maw."

The Prologe of the Wyves Tale of Bathe
       "Experience, though noon auctoritee
Were in this world, were right ynogh to me
To speke of wo that is in mariage;
For, lordynges, sith I twelf yeer was of age,
5 Thonked be God, that is eterne on lyve,
Housbondes at chirche dore I have had fyve -
For I so ofte have ywedded bee -
And alle were worthy men in hir degree.
But me was toold, certeyn, nat longe agoon is,
10 That sith that Crist ne wente nevere but onis
To weddyng in the Cane of Galilee,
That by the same ensample, taughte he me,
That I ne sholde wedded be but ones.
Herkne eek, lo, which a sharpe word for the nones,
15 Biside a welle Jhesus, God and Man,
Spak in repreeve of the Samaritan.
"Thou hast yhad fyve housbondes," quod he,
"And thilke man the which that hath now thee
Is noght thyn housbonde;" thus seyde he certeyn.
20 What that he mente ther by, I kan nat seyn;
But that I axe, why that the fifthe man
Was noon housbonde to the Samaritan?
How manye myghte she have in mariage?
Yet herde I nevere tellen in myn age
25 Upon this nombre diffinicioun.
Men may devyne, and glosen up and doun,
But wel I woot, expres, withoute lye,
God bad us for to wexe and multiplye;
That gentil text kan I wel understonde.
30 Eek wel I woot, he seyde, myn housbonde
Sholde lete fader and mooder, and take to me;
But of no nombre mencioun made he,
Of bigamye, or of octogamye;
Why sholde men speke of it vileynye?


      "Experience, though no authority
Were in this world, were good enough for me,
To speak of woe that is in all marriage;
For, masters, since I was twelve years of age,
5 Thanks be to God who is forever alive,
Of husbands at church door have I had five;
For men so many times have married me;
And all were worthy men in their degree.
But someone told me not so long ago
10 That since Our Lord, save once, would never go
To wedding that at Cana in Galilee,
Thus, by this same example, showed he me
I never should have married more than once.
Lo and behold! What sharp words, for the nonce,
15 Beside a well Lord Jesus, God and man,
Spoke in reproving the Samaritan:
"For thou hast had five husbands," thus said he,
"And he whom thou hast now to be with thee
Is not thine husband." Thus he said that day,
20 But what he meant thereby I cannot say;
And I would ask now why that same fifth man
Was not husband to the Samaritan?
How many might she have, then, in marriage?
For I have never heard, in all my age,
25 Clear exposition of this number shown,
Though men may guess and argue up and down.
But well I know and say, and do not lie,
God bade us to increase and multiply;
That worthy text can I well understand.
30 And well I know he said, too, my husband
Should father leave, and mother, and cleave to me;
But no specific number mentioned He,
Whether of bigamy or octogamy;
Why should men speak of it reproachfully?

35       Lo, heere the wise kyng, daun Salomon;
I trowe he hadde wyves mo than oon-
As, wolde God, it leveful were to me
To be refresshed half so ofte as he!
Which yifte of God hadde he, for alle hise wyvys!
40 No man hath swich that in this world alyve is.
God woot, this noble kyng, as to my wit,
The firste nyght had many a myrie fit
With ech of hem, so wel was hym on lyve!
Yblessed be God, that I have wedded fyve;
45 (Of whiche I have pyked out the beste,
Bothe of here nether purs and of here cheste.
Diverse scoles maken parfyt clerkes,
And diverse practyk in many sondry werkes
Maketh the werkman parfyt sekirly;
50 Of fyve husbondes scoleiyng am I.)
Welcome the sixte, whan that evere he shal.
For sothe I wol nat kepe me chaast in al.
Whan myn housbonde is fro the world ygon,
Som Cristen man shal wedde me anon.
55 For thanne th'apostle seith that I am free,
To wedde, a Goddes half, where it liketh me.
He seith, that to be wedded is no synne,
Bet is to be wedded than to brynne.
What rekketh me, thogh folk seye vileynye
60 Of shrewed Lameth and of bigamye?
I woot wel Abraham was an hooly man,
And Jacob eek, as ferforth as I kan,
And ech of hem hadde wyves mo than two,
And many another holy man also.
65 Whanne saugh ye evere in any manere age,
That hye God defended mariage
By expres word? I pray you, telleth me,
Or where comanded he virginitee?
I woot as wel as ye it is no drede,
70 Th'apostel, whan he speketh of maydenhede;
He seyde that precept therof hadde he noon.
Men may conseille a womman to been oon,
But conseillyng is no comandement;
He putte it in oure owene juggement.
75 For hadde God comanded maydenhede,
Thanne hadde he dampned weddyng with the dede;
And certein, if ther were no seed ysowe,
Virginitee, wherof thanne sholde it growe?
Poul dorste nat comanden, atte leeste,
80 A thyng of which his maister yaf noon heeste.
The dart is set up of virginitee;
Cacche who so may, who renneth best lat see.


35       Lo, there's the wise old king Dan Solomon;
I understand he had more wives than one;
And now would God it were permitted me
To be refreshed one half as oft as he!
Which gift of God he had for all his wives!
40 No man has such that in this world now lives.
God knows, this noble king, it strikes my wit,
The first night he had many a merry fit
With each of them, so much he was alive!
Praise be to God that I have wedded five!
45 (Of whom I did pick out and choose the best
Both for their nether purse and for their chest
Different schools make divers perfect clerks,
Different methods learned in various works
Make the good workman perfect, certainly.
50 Of full five husbands tutoring am I.)
Welcome the sixth whenever come he shall.
Forsooth, I'll not keep chaste for good and all;
When my good husband from the world is gone,
Some Christian man shall marry me anon;
55 For then, the apostle says that I am free
To wed, in God's name, where it pleases me.
He says that to be married is no sin;
Better to marry than to burn within.
What care I though people speak reproachfully
60 Of wicked Lamech and his bigamy?
I know well Abraham was holy man,
And Jacob, too, as far as know I can;
And each of them had spouses more than two;
And many another holy man also.
65 Or can you say that you have ever heard
That God has ever by His express word
Marriage forbidden? Pray you, now, tell me.
Or where commanded he virginity?
I read as well as you no doubt have read
70 The apostle when he speaks of maidenhead;
He said, commandment of the Lord he'd none.
Men may advise a woman to be one,
But such advice is not commandment, no;
He left the thing to our own judgment so.
75 For had Lord God commanded maidenhood,
He'd have condemned all marriage as not good;
And certainly, if there were no seed sown,
Virginity, where then should it be grown?
Paul dared not to forbid us, at the least,
80 A thing whereof his master'd no behest.
The dart is set up for virginity;
Catch it who can; who runs best let us see.

       But this word is nat taken of every wight,
But ther as God lust gyve it of his myght.
85 I woot wel, th'apostel was a mayde;
But nathelees, thogh that he wroot and sayde
He wolde that every wight were swich as he,
Al nys but conseil to virginitee;
And for to been a wyf, he yaf me leve
90 Of indulgence, so it is no repreve
To wedde me, if that my make dye,
Withouten excepcioun of bigamye.
Al were it good no womman for to touche,
He mente, as in his bed or in his couche;
95 For peril is bothe fyr and tow t'assemble;
Ye knowe what this ensample may resemble.
This is al and som, he heeld virginitee
Moore parfit than weddyng in freletee.
Freletee clepe I, but if that he and she
100 Wolde leden al hir lyf in chastitee.


      But this word is not meant for every wight,
But where God wills to give it, of His might.
85 I know well that the apostle was a virgin;
Nevertheless, and though he wrote and urged in,
He would that everyone were such as he,
All is not counsel to virginity;
And so to be a wife he gave me leave
90 Out of permission; there's no shame should grieve
In marrying me, if that my mate should die,
Without exception, too, of bigamy.
And though 'twere good no woman flesh to touch,
He meant, in his own bed or on his couch;
95 For peril 'tis fire and tow to assemble;
You know what this example may resemble.
This is the sum: he held virginity
Nearer perfection than marriage for frailty.
And frailty's all, I say, save he and she
100 Would lead their lives throughout in chastity.

       I graunte it wel, I have noon envie,
Thogh maydenhede preferre bigamye;
Hem liketh to be clene, body and goost.
Of myn estaat I nyl nat make no boost,
105 For wel ye knowe, a lord in his houshold,
He nath nat every vessel al of gold;
Somme been of tree, and doon hir lord servyse.
God clepeth folk to hym in sondry wyse,
And everich hath of God a propre yifte -
110 Som this, som that, as hym liketh shifte.
       Virginitee is greet perfeccioun,
And continence eek with devocioun.
But Crist, that of perfeccioun is welle,
Bad nat every wight he sholde go selle
115 Al that he hadde, and gyve it to the poore,
And in swich wise folwe hym and his foore.
He spak to hem that wolde lyve parfitly,
And lordynges, by youre leve, that am nat I.
I wol bistowe the flour of myn age
120 In the actes and in fruyt of mariage.


      I grant this well, I have no great envy
Though maidenhood's preferred to bigamy;
Let those who will be clean, body and ghost,
Of my condition I will make no boast.
105 For well you know, a lord in his household,
He has not every vessel all of gold;
Some are of wood and serve well all their days.
God calls people unto him in various ways,
And each one has from God a proper gift,
110 Some this, some that, as pleases him to shift.
       Virginity is great perfection known,
And continence also with devotion shown.
But Christ, who of perfection is the well,
Bade not each separate man he should go sell
115 All that he had and give it to the poor
And follow him in such wise going before.
He spoke to those that would live perfectly;
And, masters, by your leave, such am not I.
I will devote the flower of all my age
120 To all the acts and harvests of marriage.

       Telle me also, to what conclusion
Were membres maad of generacion,
And of so parfit wys a wright ywroght?
Trusteth right wel, they were nat maad for noght.
125 Glose whoso wole, and seye bothe up and doun,
That they were maked for purgacioun
Of uryne, and oure bothe thynges smale
Were eek to knowe a femele from a male,
And for noon other cause, -say ye no?
130 The experience woot wel it is noght so.
So that the clerkes be nat with me wrothe,
I sey this: that they maked ben for bothe,
That is to seye, for office and for ese
Of engendrure, ther we nat God displese.
135 Why sholde men elles in hir bookes sette
That man shal yelde to his wyf hire dette?
Now wherwith sholde he make his paiement,
If he ne used his sely instrument?
Thanne were they maad upon a creature
140 To purge uryne, and eek for engendrure.


       Tell me also, to what purpose or end
The genitals were made, that I defend,
And for what benefit was man first wrought?
Trust you right well, they were not made for naught.
125 Explain who will and argue up and down
That they were made for passing out, as known,
Of urine, and our two belongings small
Were just to tell a female from a male,
And for no other cause - ah, say you no?
130 Experience knows well it is not so;
And, so the clerics be not with me wroth,
I say now that they have been made for both,
That is to say, for duty and for ease
In getting, when we do not God displease.
135 Why should men otherwise in their books set
That man shall pay unto his wife his debt?
Now wherewith should he ever make payment,
Except he used his blessed instrument?
Then on a creature were devised these things
140 For urination and engenderings.