Wanton wife of Bath

The

WANTON WIFE

of

BATH.

A Curious old Ballad,

From an ancient Copy in Black-print.

Peterhead: Printed by P. Buchan.

THE WIFE OF BATH.

In Bath a wanton wife did dwell,
as Chaucer he doth write.
Who did in pleasure spend her days,
and many a fond delight.

Upon a time sore sick she was,
and at the length did die;
And then her soul at heavens gate
did knock most mightily.

First Adam came unto the gate;
who knocketh there quoth he,
I am the wife of Bath she said;
and fain would come to thee.

Thou art a sinner Adam said,
and ⟨here⟩ no place ⟨shall⟩ have.
And so ⟨art thou⟩ I trow quoth she
now gip you doting Knave.

I will come in, in spite she ⟨said⟩
of all such churls as thee;
Thou art the causer of our woe,

our pain and misery.

And first broke God's commandiments,
in pleasure of thy wife-
When Adam heard her tell this tale,
he ran away for life.

Then down came Jacob at the gate,
and bid her ⟨pack⟩ to hell;
Thou ⟨false deceiving⟩ knave quoth she,
⟨thou⟩ mayst be there as well,

For thou ⟨deceivest⟩ thy Father dear,
and thine own brother too.
Away slunk Jacob presently,
and made no more ado.

She knocks again with might and main,
and Lot he chides her straight,
How now quoth she, thou drunken ass,
who bade thee here to prate?

With thy two daughters thou didst lye,
on them two bastards got;
And thus most tauntingly she chaft

against poor silly Lot.

Who calleth there quoth Judith then,
with such shrill sounding notes?
This fine minkes surely came not here,
Quoth she, for cutting throats.

Good lord, how Judith blush'd for shame,
when she heard her say so!
King David hearing o' the same,
he to the the gate would go.

Quoth David who knoks there so loud,
and maketh all this ⟨strife⟩?
You were more kind good Sir, she said,
unto Uriahs wife.

And when thy servant thou didst cause
In battle to be slain;
Thou causedst far more strife than I,
who would come here so fain.

The woman's mad quoth Solomon,
that thus doth taunt a king.
Not half so mad as you, she said,

I trow in many a thing-

Thou had seven hundred wives at once,
for whom thou didst provide:
And yet god wot three hundred whores
thou didst mantain beside:

And they made thee forsake thy God,
and worship stocks and stones;
Besides the charge they put you to
In breeding of young bones.

Hadst thou not been beside thy wits,
Thou wouldst not thus have ventured;
And therefore I do marvel much,
how thou this place hast entered.

I never heard quoth Jonas then,
so vile a scold as this.
Thou whore-son tun away quoth she,
thou didest more amiss.

They say quoth Thomas, womens tongues
of aspen leavss are made.
Thou unbelieving wretch quoth she,

all is not true that’s said.

When Mary Magdalene heard her then
she came unto the gate;
Quoth she good woman, you must think
upon your former state,

No sinner enters in this place,
quoth Mary Magdalene. Then
’Twere ill for you, fair mistress mind,
she answered her again:

You for your honesty quoth she,
had once been stoned to death;
Had not our Saviour Christ come by,
and written on the earth:

It was not by your occupation,
you are become divine:
I hope my soul in Christ his passion,
shall be as safe as thine.

Uprose the good apostle Paul,
and to this wife he cried,
Except thou shake thy sins away

thou here shalt be denied.

Remember Paul what thou hast done,
all through a lewd desire:
How thou didst persecute Gods church,
with wrath as hot as fire.

Then up starts Peter at the last,
and to the gate he hies:
Fond fool quoth he knock not so fast,
thou weariest Christ with cries.

Peter said she content thyself,
for mercy may be won;
I never did deny my Christ,
as thou thyself hast done.

When as our Saviour Christ heard this,
with heavenly angels bright;
He comes unto this sinful soul;
who trembled at his sight.

Of him for mercy she did crave,
quoth he thou hast refuf'd,
My proffered grace, and mercy both,

and much my ⟨name⟩ abus'd.

Sore have I sinn’d Lord she said,
and spent my time in vain;
But bring me like a wandering sheep
into thy fold again.

O Lord my God, I will amend
my former wicked vice:
The thief for one poor silly word
past into paradice.

My laws and my commandiments,
saith Christ were known to thee,
But of the same in any wise,
Not yet one word did ye.

I grant the same, O Lord quoth she;
most lewedly did I live;
But yet the loving father did
his prodigal son forgive.

So I forgive thy soul, he said,
through thy ⟨repenting⟩ cry;
Come ⟨enter⟩ then into my rest,
I will not thee deny.

FINIS.