Patience, Leonard Campbell Taylor

HERE is a free rendering of the Prologue to the Wife of Bath’s Tale by Chaucer. This is the third of five poems in Keith Jacka’s series “English Girls.” 

THE WIFE OF BATH

The Wife of Bath trod the Marriage Path,
Husbands five took her to wive.

Three dowered her with Gold and Land,
She had them eating out of her hand.

Those three were rich, but also old,
Not long before their blood grew cold.

Said she: “I can’t keep chaste for years,
I only wait till a man appears.

“No sooner a husband’s dead and gone,
Another one shall take me on.

“I tantalise a little bit,
I make them beg; I tell them ‘Sit.’

“What have I got? I’ve got what they need,
They’re all the same from Adam’s seed.

“A shapely breast, a rounded bum,
Will hold men’s eyes till Kingdom Come.

“But husband four put me in my place,
I fell down hard, fell flat on my face.

“He set it all up; me safely wed,
He looked about; who else could he bed?

“He had an eye; he played the field,
No trouble for him to make them yield.

“I seethed inside; I raged with spite,
To see another woman his delight.

“I had my methods to do him down,
No need to shout; no need to frown.

“I sizzled him, in his own grease
Of jealousy. He got no peace.

“I flirted with men, flirted with all,
High born, low born, short and tall.

“I took away his chance to rest,
My tongue never stopped; I was his pest.

“He couldn’t stand my piercing tones,
His body shook with piteous groans.

“The Medic came; he shook his head:
‘He’s given up; he’ll soon be dead.’

“Husband five was my boy Johnny,
Handsome, brave, and blithe and bonny.

“I loved him, and he loved me;
In our cosy nest we did agree.

“But Johnny boy had an education,
Could read and write, do multiplication.

“In time he returned to his precious books,
Instead of smiles, distracted looks.

“What book did he read? Now that was the worst,
That’s what made me fit to burst.

“A book of bad women and lustful girls,
Exploiting men, those moral pearls.

“It all began with Eve, of course,
Gave birth to Sin; she was its source.

“Then God made Helen, so perfect in Beauty
Who can expect Perfection of Duty.

“There was Hélöise, her only woe
Was being forbidden to come and go,

“Shut behind some Convent walls;
But Abelard, he lost his Balls.

“Samson, Delilah; he was a giant;
Putty in her hands; witless, pliant.

“Shorn of his strength, and then made blind,
Through docile trust in womankind.

“And when I saw my Johnny’s look,
Intent upon his cursed book,

“I ranted and raged; but he kept on reading,
Ignoring me; he wasn’t heeding.

“So I pounced, I grabbed, I ripped those pages,
Just where his eyes were glued for ages.

“He yelled in fury; up he jumped,
He swung his fist; my head he thumped.

“So hard upon my left side ear,
I’m deaf along there, many a year.

“I fell down dead; so I made it look,
Right on top of his nasty book.

“He was aghast, down on his knees,
Said: ‘Alison, my dear one, please.

” ‘Forgive me, never again I’ll hit
You, Love, but still you asked for it.’

“Up I got, and straightway took
And burnt to ash that horrible book.

“Some ups and downs, and heavy weather,
But still and all we stuck together.

“From that day on I was kind and true,
Nothing at all for him to rue.

“Of all my men ’twas him I loved best;
God bless his soul; in peace may he rest.”

                                           — Keith Jacka

Author’s Note:

Metre: Four stresses per line.

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