The Tale

Whilom there was dwelling in Lombardy A worthy knight, that born was at Pavie, In which he liv’d in great prosperity; And forty years a wifeless man was he, And follow’d aye his bodily delight On women, where as was his appetite, As do these foolës that be seculeres. And, when that he was passed sixty years, Were it for holiness, or for dotáge, I cannot say, but such a great coráge Haddë this knight to be a wedded man, That day and night he did all that he can To espy where that he might wedded be; Praying our Lord to grantë him, that he Mightë once knowen of that blissful life That is betwixt a husband and his wife, And for to live under that holy bond With which God firstë man and woman bond. “None other life,” said he, “is worth a bean; For wedlock is so easy, and so clean, That in this world it is a paradise.” Thus said this oldë knight, that was so wise. And certainly, as sooth as God is king, To take a wife it is a glorious thing, And namely when a man is old and hoar, Then is a wife the fruit of his treasór; Then should he take a young wife and a fair, On which he might engender him an heir, And lead his life in joy and in solace; Whereas these bachelors singen “Alas!” When that they find any adversity In love, which is but childish vanity. And truëly it sits well to be so, That bachelors have often pain and woe: On brittle ground they build, and brittleness They findë, when they weenë sickerness: They live but as a bird or as a beast, In liberty, and under no arrest; Whereas a wedded man in his estate Liveth a life blissful and ordinate, Under the yoke of marriáge y-bound; Well may his heart in joy and bliss abound. For who can be so buxom as a wife? Who is so true, and eke so áttentíve To keep him, sick and whole, as is his make? For weal or woe she will him not forsake: She is not weary him to love and serve, Though that he lie bedrid until he sterve. And yet some clerkës say it is not so; Of which he, Theophrast, is one of tho: What force though Theophrast list for to lie?