Chaucer’s Portraits: The Wife of Bath & Clerk

     Befell that, in that season, on a day

In Southwark, at the Tabard, as I lay

Ready to start upon my pilgrimage

To Canterbury, full of devout homage,

There came at nightfall to that hostelry

Some nine and twenty in a company

Of sundry persons who had chanced to fall

In fellowship, and pilgrims were they all

That toward Canterbury town would ride.

The rooms and stables spacious were and wide,

And well we there were eased, and of the best.

And briefly, when the sun had gone to rest,

So had I spoken with them, every one,

That I was of their fellowship anon,

And made agreement that we’d early rise

To take the road, as you I will apprise.

But none the less, whilst I have time and space,

Before yet farther in this tale I pace,

It seems to me accordant with reason

To inform you of the state of every one

Of all of these, as it appeared to me,

And who they were, and what was their degree,

And even how arrayed^[1] there at the inn;

And with a knight thus will I first begin.

THE CLERK

A clerk from Oxford was with us also,

Who’d turned to getting knowledge, long ago.

As meagre was his horse as is a rake,

Nor he himself too fat, I’ll undertake,

But he looked hollow and went soberly.

Right threadbare was his overcoat; for he

Had got him yet no churchly benefice^[2],

Nor was so worldly as to gain office.

For he would rather have at his bed’s head

Some twenty books, all bound in black and red,

Of Aristotle and his philosophy

Than rich robes, fiddle, or gay psaltery.

Yet, and for all he was philosopher,

He had but little gold within his coffer;^[3]

But all that he might borrow from a friend

On books and learning he would swiftly spend,

And then he’d pray right busily for the souls

Of those who gave him wherewithal for schools.

Of study took he utmost care and heed.

Not one word spoke he more than was his need;

And that was said in fullest reverence

And short and quick and full of high good sense.

Pregnant of moral virtue was his speech;

And gladly would he learn and gladly teach.

THE WIFE OF BATH

There was a housewife come from Bath, or near,

Who- sad to say- was deaf^[4] in either ear.

At making cloth she had so great a bent

She bettered those of Ypres and even of Ghent.

In all the parish there was no goodwife

Should offering make before her, on my life;

And if one did, indeed, so wroth was she

It put her out of all her charity.

Her kerchiefs were of finest weave and ground;

I dare swear that they weighed a full ten pound

Which, of a Sunday, she wore on her head.

Her hose were of the choicest scarlet red,

Close gartered, and her shoes were soft and new.

Bold was her face, and fair, and red of hue.

She’d been respectable throughout her life,

With five churched husbands^[5] bringing joy and strife,

Not counting other company in youth;

But thereof there’s no need to speak, in truth.

Three times she’d journeyed to Jerusalem;^[6]

And many a foreign stream she’d had to stem;

At Rome she’d been, and she’d been in Boulogne,

In Spain at Santiago, and at Cologne.

She could tell much of wandering by the way:

Gap-toothed^[7] was she, it is no lie to say.

Upon an ambler easily she sat,

Well wimpled, aye, and over all a hat^[8]

As broad as is a buckler or a targe;^[9]

A rug was tucked around her buttocks large,

And on her feet a pair of sharpened spurs.

In company well could she laugh her slurs.

The remedies of love she knew, perchance,

For of that art she’d learned the old, old dance.