The Wanton Wife of Bath.
To the Tune of, Flying Fame, etc.
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IN Bath a wanton wife did dwell,
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as Chaucer he doth write;
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Who did in pleasure spend her days,
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in many fond delight;
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Upon a time sore sick she was,
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and at the length did dye,
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Her soul at last to heaven's gate,
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did knock most mightily.
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Then Adam came unto the gate,
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Who knocketh there? quoth he.
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I am the Wife of Bath, she said,
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and fain would come to thee.
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Thou art a sinner, Adam said,
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and here no place shall have.
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Alas, for you good Sir, she said,
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now gip you doting knave;
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I will come in, in spight, she said,
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of all such churles as thee;
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Thou wert the causer of our woe,
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and our pain misery:
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And first broke God's commandments,
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in pleasure of thy wife.
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When Adam heard her tell this tale,
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he ran away for life.
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Then down came Jacob at the gate,
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and bids her pack to hell.
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Thou false deceiver, why, said she,
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thou maist be there as well;
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For thou deceiv'dst thy father dear,
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and thine own brother too.
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Away went Jacob presently,
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and made no more ado.
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She knocks again with might and main
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and Lot he chides her straight:
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Why then, quoth she, thou drunken ass,
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who bids thee here to wait?
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With thy two daughters thou didst lye,
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on them two bastards got;
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And thus most tauntingly she chast
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against poor silly Lot.
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Who knocks there, quoth Judith then,
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with such shrill sounding notes?
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Alas, fine minks you cannot hear,
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quoth she, for cutting throats.
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Good Lord, how Judith blusht for shame,
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when she heard her say so.
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King David hearing of the same,
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he to the gate did go,
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Quod David, Who knocks there so loud,
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and maketh all this strife?
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You were more kind, good Sir, she said,
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unto Uriahs wife;
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And when thou causedst thy servant
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in battel to be slain,
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Thou caused then more strife then I,
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who would come here so fain.
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The woman's mad, said Solomon,
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that thus doth taunt a King.
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Not half so mad as you, she said,
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I know in many a thing;
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Thou hadst seven hundred wives at once,
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for whom thou didst provide,
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For all this, three hundred whores
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thou didst maintain beside;
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And those made thee forsake thy God,
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and worship stocks and stones,
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Besides the charge they put thee to
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in breeding of young bones;
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Hadst thou not been besides thy wits,
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thou wouldst not have ventured;
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And therefore I do marvel much,
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how thou this place have enter'd.
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I never heard, quoth Jonas then,
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so vile a scold as this.
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Thou whorson runaway, quoth she,
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thou diddest more amiss.
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I think, quod Thomas, womens tongues
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of aspen-leaves are made.
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Thou unbelieving wretch, quoth she,
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all is not true that's said.
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When Mary Magdalen heard then,
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she came unto the gate,
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Quoth she, Good woman you must think
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upon your former state;
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No sinner enters in this place,
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quoth Mary Magdalen, then
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'Twere ill for you fair mistress mine,
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she answered her again.
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You for your honesty, quoth she,
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should once been stoned to death,
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Had not our Saviour Christ come by,
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and written on the earth,
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It was not your occupation,
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you are become divine;
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I hope my soul in Christ's Passion
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shall be as safe as thine.
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Then rose the good Apostle Paul,
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unto this wife he said,
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Except thou shake thy sins away,
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thou here shalt be denied.
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Remember Paul what thou hast done;
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although a lewd desire;
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How thou didst persecute God's Church,
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with wrath as hot as fire.
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Then up starts Peter at the last,
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and to the gate he highs,
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Fond fool, quoth he, knock not so fast,
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thou weariest Christ with cries.
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Peter, said she, content thyself,
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for mercy may be won;
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I never did deny my Christ,
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as thou thyself hast done.
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When as our Saviour Christ heard this,
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with heavenly Angels bright,
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He comes unto this sinful soul,
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who trembled at his sight:
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Of him for mercy she did crave,
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quoth he, Thou hast refused
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My proffer, grace, and mercy both,
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and much my name abused.
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Sore have I sinned, O Lord, she said,
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and spent my time in vain,
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But bring me like a wandring sheep
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into thy flock again:
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O Lord my God, I will amend
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my former wicked vice:
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The thief at these poor silly words,
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past into paradise.
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My laws and my commandments,
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saith Christ, were known to thee,
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But of the same in any wise,
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nor yet one word did ye.
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I grant the same, O Lord, quoth she
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most lewdly did I live,
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But yet the loving father did
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his prodigal son forgive.
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So I forgive thy soul, he said,
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through thy repenting cry,
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Come therefore into my joy,
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I will not thee deny.
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