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Full text of "The wright's chaste wife ; or, A fable of a wryght ... : a merry tale"

VICTORIA UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 




This book is purchased from 

The Schofield Fund 

given in memory of 

William Henry Schofield 

Victoria College, B.A. 1889 

Harvard University, Ph. D. 1895 

Professor of Comparative Literature 

Harvard University, 1906-20. 

Harvard Exchange P rofessor at 

University of Berlin, 1907 

Lecturer at the Sorbonne and 

University of Copenhagen, 1910. 

Harvard Exchange Professor at 

Western Colleges, 1918. 



BERLIN: ASHER & CO., 13, UNTER DEN LINDEN. 

NEW YORK: C. SCRIBNER & CO. ; LEYPOLDT & HOLT. 

PHILADELPHIA : J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO. 



OB 



"A Fable of a wrygKt that was maryde to a pore 

wydows dowtre / the whiche wydow havyng 

noo good to geve with her / gave as for 

a precyous Johett to hyra a Rose 

garlond / the whyche sche affermyd 

wold never fade while sche 

kept truly her wedlok." 



L ftmg f&ale, frj Jitam af 

a MS. in the Library of the Archbishop of Canterbury, 
at Lambeth, about 1462 A.D. 



COPIED AND EDITED BY 



FREDERICK J. PTTRNIVALL. 

\\\XS V 



LONDON : 
PUBLISHED FOE THE EARLY ENGLISH TEXT SOCIETY 

BY KEGAN PAUL, TEENCH, TEUBNER & CO., LIMITED, 

DRYDEN HOUSE, 43, GERRARD STREET, SOHO, W. 

1865. 
[Reprinted 1891, 1905.] 



PR 
I i 13 



wo. 12,84 



UIOZ 
2.1-1-31 



Original Merits, 12. 

RICHARD CLAY ii SOUS, LIMITED, LONDON AND BUNGAY. 



PREFACE. 



GOOD wine needs no bush, and this tale needs no Preface. 
I shall not tell the story of it let readers go to the verse 
itself for that ; nor shall I repeat to those who begin it the 
exhortation of the englisher of Sir Generides, 

" for goddes sake, or ye hens wende, 
Here this tale unto the ende." (11. 3769-70.) 

If any one having taken it up is absurd enough to lay it 
down without finishing it, let him lose the fun, and let all 
true men pity him. Though the state of morals disclosed by 
the story is not altogether satisfactory, yet it is a decided 
improvement on that existing in Roberd of Brunne's time in 
1303, for he had to complain of the lords of his day : 

Also do fese lordynges, 

J)e[y] trespas moche yn twey pynges ; 

Jpey rauys a mayden a^cns here vvyl, 

And mennys wyuys ]?ey lede awey Jjertyl. 

A grete vylanye ]?arte he dons 

3yf he make therof hys rouse [boste] : 

})e dede ys confusyun, 

And more ys J>e dyffamacyun. 



VI PREFACE. 

The volume containing the poein was shown to me by Mr 
Stubbs, the Librarian at Lambeth, in order that I might see 
the version of Sir Gyngelayne, son of Sir Gawain, which Mr 
Morris is some day, I trust, to edit for the Society in one of 
his Gawain volumes. 1 Finding the present poem also on the 
paper leaves, I copied it out the same afternoon, and here it 
is for a half-hour's amusement to any reader who chooses to 
take it up. 

The handwriting of the MS. must be of a date soon after 
1460, and this agrees well with the allusion to Edward the 
Fourth's accession, and the triumph of the White Eose o'er the 
Ked alluded to in the last lines of the poem. The Garlond, 

It was made . . . 

Of flourys most of honoure, 

Of roses whyte j)at wytt nott fade, 

Whych floure aft ynglond doth glade. . . 

Yn-to the whych floure I-wys 

The loue of God and of the comonys 

Subdued bene of ryght. 

For, that the Commons of England were glad of their 
Yorkist king, and loved Duke Richard's son, let Holinshed's 
record prove. He testifies : 

" Wherevpon it was againe demanded of the commons, if they 
would admit and take the said erle as their prince and souereigne 
lord j which all with one voice cried : Yea, yea. . . 

" Out of the ded stocke sprang a branch more mightie than the 
stem ; this Edward the Fourth, a prince so highlie fauoured of the 
peple, for his great liberalitie, clemencie, vpright dealing, and courage, 
that aboue all other, he with them stood in grace alone : by reason 
whereof, men of all ages and degrees to him dailie repaired, some 
offering themselues and their men to ioepard their liues with him, 
and other plentiouslie gaue monie to support his charges, and to 
mainteine his right." 

1 The since printing of the Romance in the Percy Folio MS. Ballads and 
Romances, (Lybiiis Disconivs, ii. 404,) will probably render this unnecessary. 
(1869.) 



PREFACE. VII 

Would that we knew as much of Adam of Cobsam as of 
our White-Kose king. He must have been one of the Chaucer 
breed/ but more than this poem tells of him I cannot learn. 

3, 8t George's Square, N.W., 
23 November, 1865. 

P.S. There are other Poeins about Edward IV. in the volume, 
which will be printed separately. 2 One on Women is given at the 
end of the present text. 



PP.S. 1869. Mr C. H. Pearson, the historian of the 
Early and Middle Ages of England, has supplied me with the 
immediate original of this story. He says : 

"The Wright's Chaste Wife is a reproduction of one of tiie 
Gesta Romanorum. cap. 69, de Castitate, ed. Keller. The Latin 
story begins ' Gallus regnavit prudens valde.' The Carpenter gets a 
shirt with his wife, which is never to want washing unless one of 
them is unfaithful. The lovers are three Knights (milifes), and they 
are merely kept on bread and water, not made to work ; nor is any 
wife introduced to see her lord's discomfiture. The English version, 
therefore, is much quainter and fuller of incident than its original. 
But the 'morality' of the Latin story is rich beyond description. 
' The wife is holy Mother Church/ ' the Carpenter is the good 
Christian,' ' the shirt is our Faith, because, as the apostle says, it is 
impossible to please God without faith.' The Wright's work typifies 
* the building up the pure heart by the works of mercy.' The three 
Knights are 'the pride of life, the lust of the eyes, and the lust of 
the flesh.' f These you must shut up in the chamber of penance till 
you get an eternal reward from the eternal King.' ' Let us therefore 
pray God,' &c." 

With the Wright's Chaste Wife may also be compared 
the stories mentioned in the Notes, p. 20, and the Ballad 
' ' The Fryer well fitted ; or 

1 Chaucer brings off his Carpenter, though, triumphant, and not with the 
swived wife and broken arm that he gives his befooled Oxford craftsman 
in The Miller e* Tale. (1869.) 

2 In Political, Edigious, and Love Poems, E. E. Text Soc., 1867. 



V1I1 PREFACE. 

A Pretty jest that once befel, 

How a maid put a Fryer to cool in the well " 

printed "in the Bagford Collection; in the Roxburghe (ii. 
172); the Pepys (iii. 145); the Douce (p. 85); and in Wit 
and Mirth, an Antidote to Melancholy, 8vo. 1682 ; also, in an 
altered form, in Pills to purge Melancholy, 170 7, i. 340; or 
1719, iii. 325 " ; and the tune of which, with an abstract of the 
story, is given in Chappell's Popular Music, i. 2 73-5. The Friar 
makes love to the Maid ; she refuses Jiim for fear of hell-fire. 

Tush, quoth the Friar, thou needst not doubt ; 
If thou wert in Hell, I could sing thee out. 

So she consents if he '11 bring her an angel of money. He 
goes home to fetch it, and she covers the well over with a 
cloth. When he comes back, and has given her the money, 
she pretends that her father is coming, tells the Friar to run 
behind the cloth, and down he flops into the well. She won't 
help him at first, because if ne could sing her out of hell, he 
can clearly sing himself out of the well ; but at last she does 
help him out, keeps his money because he 's dirtied the water, 
and sends him home dripping along the street like a new- 
washed sheep. 



THE WEIGHT'S CHASTE WIFE, 

[MS. Lambeth 306, leaves 178-187.] 



Athnyghty god, maker of alle, 
Saue you my souereyns in towre halle, 
3 And send you good grace ! 
If ye wyft a stounde Wynne, 
Of a story I wyft begynne, 
6 And telle you aft the cas, 
Meny farleyes pat I haue herde, 
Ye would haue wondyr how yt ferde ; 
9 Lystyn, and ye schaft here ; 
Of a wryght I wyft you telle, 
That some tyme in thys land gan dwelle, 

12 And lyued by hys myster. 

Whether that he were yn or owte, 
Of erthely man hadde he no dowte, 

15 To werke hows, harowe, nor plowgh, 
Or other werkes, what so they were", 
Thous wrought he hem farre and nere, 

18 And dyd tham wele I-nough. 

Thys wryght would wedde no wyfe, 
Butt yn yougeth to lede hy lyfe 

21 In myrthe and ojjer melody ; 
Oner alt where he gan wende^ 
Atl they seyd " welcome, frende, 

24 Sytt downe, and do gla[d]ly." 



My sovereigns, 



I will tell you a 
tale 



of a wright 
of this land, 



who, at work, was 
afraid of no 
earthly man. 



At first he would 
wed no wife, 

[leaf 178, back] 

for wherever he 
went he was 
welcome ; 



THE WRIGHT FALLS IN LOVE, AND PROPOSES. 



but at last he 
wished 



to have a spouse 
to look after his 
goods. 



A widow near had 
a fair daughter 



true and 
meek. 



Her the wright 
would like to lie 
by him, 



and therefore 
went to her 
mother 



and proposed for 
the maiden. 



The mother says 
she can only 
give him as a 
portion 

a garland 



of roses 



that will keep its 
colour 

[leaf 179] 

while his wife is 
true, 



Tyft on a tyme he was wyllyng, 
As tyme comyth of alle thyng, 

27 (So seyth the profesye,) 
A wyfe for to wedde & haue 
That myght hys goodes kepe and sane, 

30 And for to leue ait foly. 

Ther dwellyd a wydowe in J>at contre 
That hadde a doughter feyre & fre ; 

33 Of her, word sprang wyde, 

For sche was bothe stabyft & trewe, 
Meke of maners, and feyr 1 of hewe ; 

36 So seyd men in that tyde. 

The. wryght seyde, " so god me saue, 
Such a wyfe would I haue 

39 To lye nyghtly by my syde." 
He fought to speke wyth )>at may, 
And rose erly on a daye 

42 And Jjyder gan he to ryde. 

The wryght was welcome to ]>e wyfe, 
And her saluyd aft so blyve, 

45 And so he dyd her doughter fre : 
For the erand that he for cam* 
Tho he spake, J>at good yeman) ; 

48 Than to hym seyd sche : 

The wydowe seyd, " by heuen kyng, 
I may geue wyth her no ])ing, 

51 (And ]?at forthynketh me ;) 
Saue a garlond I wyft the geue, 
Ye schalt neuer see, whyle ye lyve, 

54 None such in thys contre : 

Haue here thys garlond of roses ryche, 
In aft thys lond ys none yt lyche, 

57 For ytt wytt euer be newe, 
Wete ]?ou wele w/t//owtyn fable, 
Aft the whyle thy wyfe ys stable 

60 The chaplett wolle hold hewe ; 



HE RECEIVES A ROSE GARLAND WITH HIS WIFE. 



And yf thy wyfe vse putry, 
Or tolle eny man to lye her by, 

63 Than wolle yt change hewe, 
And by the garlond J>ou may see, 
Fekyft or fals yf J?at sche be, 

66 Or ellys yf sche be trewe." 

Of thys chaplett hym was futt fayne, 
And of hys wyfe, was nott to layne ; 

69 He weddyd her futt sone, 

And ladde her home wyth solempnite, 
And hyld her brydatt dayes thre. 

72 Whan they home come, 
Thys wryght in hys hart cast, 
If that he walkyd est or west 

75 As he was wonte to done, 

" My wyfe J?at ys so bryght of ble, 
Men wolle desyre her* fro me, 

78 And J?at hastly and sone ; " 
Butt sone he hym byjjought 
That a chambyr schulcl be wrought 

81 Bothe of lyme and stone, 

Wyth wallys strong as eny stele, 
And dorres sotylly made and wele, 

84 He owte framyd yt sone ; 
The chambyr he lett make fast, 
Wyth plaster of parys \>ai wyft last, 

87 Such ous know I neuer none ; 
Ther ys [ne] kyng ne empe?-oure, 
And he were lockyn in J?at towre, 

90 That cowde gete owte of pat wonne. 
Nowe hath he done as he fought, 
And in the myddes of the flore wrought 

93 A wondyr strange gyle, 
A trapdoure rounde abowte 
That no man myght come yn nor owte ; 

96 It was made wyth a wyle, 



but change when 
she is faithless. 



The wright is 
delighted with his 
garland and wife, 

marries her ' 
and takes her 
home; 



and then begins 
to think that 
when he is out at 
work 

men will try to 
corrupt his wife. 



So he plans a 
crafty room and 
tower. 



and builds it soon 
with plaster of 
Paris, 



which no one 
could ever get out 
of if he once got 
into it, 



for there was a 
trapdoor in the 
middle, 

[leaf 179, back] 



4 THE WRIGHT GOES TO WORK, AND LEAVES HIS WIFE AT HOME. 



and if any one 
only touched it, 
down he'd go into 
a pit. 

This was to stop 
any tricks with 
his wife. 



That who-so touchyd yt eny thyng, 
In to ]?e pytt he schuld flyng 
99 Wythyn a lytyft whyle. 

For hys wyfe he made that place, 
That no man schuld beseke her of grace, 
102 Nor her to begyle. 



Just then the 
town Lord 



sends for him to 
build a Hall, 



(a job for two or 
three months,) 

and offers to 
fetch his wife too. 



He sees the 
Wright's garland, 
and asks what it 
means. 



' Sir, it will 



tell me whether 
my wife is false 
or true ; 

[i MS. on 

and will change 
its colour if she 
go wrong." 



"I'll try that," 
thinks the Lord, 



and goes to the 
wright's wife. 



By J>at tyme J?e lord of the towne 
Hadde ordeynyd tymbyr redy bowne, 

105 An halle to make of tre. 

After the wryght the lord lett sende, 
For J>at he schuld wyth hym lende 

108 Monythys two or thre. 

The lord seyd, " woult J>ou haue J>i wyfe ? 
I wytt send after her blyve 

111 That sche may com to the." 

The wryght hys garlond hadde take wyth hyiff, 
That was bryght and no Jring dymme, 

114 Yt wes feyre on to see. 

The lord axyd hym as he satt, 

" Felowe, where hadyst j>ou J)is hatte 

117 That ys so feyre and newe 1 " 
The wryght answerd alt so blyue, 
And seyd, " syr, I hadde yt wyth my wyfe, 

1 20 And Jjat dare me neuer' rewe ; 
Syr, by my garlond I may see 
Fekyft or fals yf J>at sche be, 

123 Or 1 yf )>at sche be trewe ; 

'And yf my wyfe loue a paramoure, 
Than wyft my garlond vade coloure, 

126 And change wytt yt the hewe." 
The lord Bought " by godys myght, 
That wytt I wete thys same nyght 

129 Whether thys tale be trewe." 

To the wryghtys howse anon he went, 
He fonde the wyfe ther-in presente 



THE LORD BRIBES THE WRIGHt's WIFE TO LIE WITH HIM. 



132 That was so bryght and schene ; 
Sone he hayled her trewly, 

And so dyd sche the lord curtesly : 
135 Sche seyd, " welcome ye be ; " 

Thus seyd the wyfe of the hows, 

" Syr, ho we faryth my swete spouse 
138 That hewyth vppon your* tre 1 " 

" Sertes, dame," lie seyd, " wele, 

And I am come, so haue I hele, 
141 To wete the wylle of the ; 

My loue ys so vppon the cast 

That me thynketh my hert wolle brest, 
144 It wolle none otherwyse be ; 

Good dame, graunt me thy grace 

To pley with the in some preuy place 
147 For gold and eke for fee." 

" Good syr, lett be youre fare, 

And of such wordes speke no mare 
150 For hys loue fat dyed on tre ; 

Hadde we onys begonne ]>at gle, 

My husbond by his garlond myght see ; 
153 For sorowe he would wexe woode." 

" Certes, dame," he seyd, " naye; 

Loue me, I pray you, in J?at ye maye : 
156 For godys loue change thy mode, 

Forty marke schatt be youre mede 

Of syluer and of gold[e] rede, 
159 And that schaft do the good." 

" Syr, that deede schatt be done ; 

Take me that mony here anone." 
162 "I swere by the holy rode 

I thought when I cam hydder* 

For to bryng 1 yt att to-gydder>, n orhyng. IMS.] 
165 As I mott broke my heele." 

Ther sche toke xl marke 

Of syluer and gold styff and sterke : 



[leaf 180] 



She asks after her 
husband, 



but the Lord 



declares his own 
love for her, 



and prays her to 
grant him his 
will. 



She entreats him 
to let that be, 



but he presses 
her, 



and offers her 
40 marks. 



On this she con- 
sents if he'll put 
down the money. 



The 40 marks she 
takes, 



THE LORD IS DROPPED THROUGH A TRAPDOOR, 



and tells him to 
go 

[leaf 180, back] 
into the secret 
chamber. 

Upstairs he goes, 



stumbles, 

and pops down 40 
feet through the 
Wright's trapdoor. 



He prays the 



good dame to 
have pity on him. 
" Nay," says she, 
" not till my hus- 
band sees you." 



The Lord tries to 
get out, but can't, 



and then 
threatens the 
wife, 



but she doesn't 
care for that, 



and goes away to 
her work. 



168 Sche toke yt feyre and welle ; 

Sche seyd, "in to the chambyr wyti we, 

Ther no man schaft vs see ; 
171 No lenger wyft we spare." 

Vp the steyer they gan 1 hye : 

The stepes were made so queyntly 
174 That farther myght he nott fare. 

The lord stumbyllyd as he went in hast, 

He feft doune in to j)at chaste 
177 Forty fote and somedele more. 

The lord began to crye; 

The wyfe seyd to hym in hye, 
180 " Syr, what do ye there ? " 

" Dame, I can nott seye howe 

That I am come hydder nowe 
183 To thys hows J?at ys so newe ; 

I am so depe in thys sure flore 

That I ne can come owte att no dore ; 
186 Good dame, on me fou rewe ! " 

" Nay," sche seyd, " so mut y the, 

Tyli myne husbond come and se, 
189 I schrewe hym jjat yt Bought." 

The lord arose and lokyd abowte 

If he myght eny where gete owte, 
192 Butt yt holpe hynJ ryght noght, 

The wallys were so thycke w?/t/iyn), 

That he no where myght owte wynne 
195 But helpe to hynJ were brought \ 

And euer the lord made euytt chere, 

And seyd, "dame, Jjou schalt by thys dere." 
198 Sche seyd that sche ne rought ; 

Sche seyd " I recke nere 

Whyle I am here and J>ou art there, 
201 I schrewe herre Jjat J?e doth drede." 

The lord was sone owte of her fought, 

The wyfe went in to her lofte, 
1 MS. gar 



AND HAS TO BEAT FLAX TO EARN HIS DINNER. 



204 Sche satte and dyd her dodc. 

Than yt felt on fat o})er daye, 

Of mete and drynke he gan her pray, 
207 There of he hadde gret nede. 

He seyd, "dame, for seynt chary te, 

Wyth some mete fou comfort me." 
210 Sche seyd, "nay, so god me spede, 

For I swere by swete seynt lohne, 

Mete ne drynke ne getyst fou none 
213 Butt fou wylt swete or swynke ; 

For I haue both hempe and lyne, 

And a betyngstocke futt fyne, 
216 And a swyngyft good and grete ; 

If fou wylt worke, tell me sone." 

" Dame, bryng yt forthe, yt schatt be done, 
219 Fuft gladly would I ete." 

Sche toke the stocke in her honde, 

And in to the pytt sche yt sclang 
222 Wyth a grete hete : 

Sche brought the lyne and hempe on her backe, 

" Syr lord," sche seyd, " haue fou fat, 
225 And lerne for to swete." 

Ther sche toke hym a bonde 

For to occupy hys honde, 
228 And bade hym fast on to. bete. 

He leyd yt. downe on the l stone, p ? MS. this.] 

And leyd on strockes weft good wone, 
231 And sparyd nott on to leyne. 

Whan fat he hadde wrought a thraue, 

Mete and drynke he gan to craue, 
234 And would haue hadde yt fayne ; 

" That 1 1 hadde somewhat for to ete 

Now after my gret swete ; 
237 Me thynketh yt were ryght, 

For I haue labouryd nyght and daye 

The for to plese, dame, I sayo, 
240 And therto putt my myght." 



Next day the 
Lord begs for 
food. 



[leaf 181] 



" You'll get none 
from me 



unless you sweat 
for it," says she ; 
" spin me some 
flax." 



He says he will : 



she throws him 
the tools, 



the flax and hemp, 

and says, " Work 
away." 



He does, 
lays on well, 



and then asks for 
his food, 



for he's toiled 
night and day. 



THE STEWARD RESOLVES TO TEMPT THE WRIGHT'S WIFE. 



The wife 



gives him 
meat and drink 
[leaf 181, back] 
and more flax, 



and keeps him up 
to his work. 



The wyfe seyd " so mutt I haue hele, 
And yf f i worke be wrought wele 

243 Thou schalt haue to dyne." 

Mete and drynke sche hym bare, 
"Wyth a thrafe of flex mare 

246 Of futt long boundyn lyne. 

So feyre the wyfe the lord gan praye 
That he schuld be werkyng aye, 

249 And nought fat he schuld blynne ; 
The lord was fayne to werke tho, 
Butt hys men knewe nott of hys woo 

252 Nor of f er lordes pyne. 



The Steward asks 
the wright after 
his Lord, 



then notices the 
garland, 



and asks who 
gave it him. 



" Sir, it will tell 
me whether my 
wife goes had." 



" I'll prove that 
this very night," 
says the steward, 



gets plenty of 
money, and 
goes off 



The stuard to f e wryght gan saye, 
" Sawe f ou owte of my lord to-daye, 

255 Whether that he ys wende ? " 

The wryght answerde and seyd " naye ; 
I sawe hym nott syth yesterday e ; 

258 I trowe fat he be schent." 
The stuard stode f e wryght by, 
And of hys garlond hadde ferly 

261 What fat yt be-mente. 

The stuard seyd, " so god me saue, 
Of thy garlond wondyr I haue, 

264 And who yt hath the sent." 

" Syr," he seyd, " be the same hatte 
I can knowe yf my wyfe be badde 

267 To me by eny other man) ; 

If my floures ouf er fade or falle, 

Then doth my wyfe me wrong wyth-alle, 

270 As many a woman can)." 

The stuard fought " by godes myght, 
That schatt I preue thys same nyght 

273 Whether fou blys or banne," 

And in to hys chambyr he gan gone, 
And toke tresure fult good wone, 



AND THINKS HE HAS SUCCEEDED SO WELL. 



276 And forth he spedde hem than). 
Butt he ne stynt att no stone 
Tytt he vn-to )>e wryghtes hows come 

279 That ylke same nyght. 

He mett the wyfe amydde the gate, 
Abowte J>e necke he gan her take, 

282 And seyd " my dere wyght, 
Att the good fat ys myne 
I wytt the geue to be thyne 

285 To lye by the att nyght." 

Sche seyd, t{ syr, lett be thy fare, 

My husbond wolle wete wyth-owtyn) mare 

288 And I hym dyd that vnrygfct ; 
I would nott he myght yt wete 
For att the good that I myght gete, 

291 So Ihesus 1 mutt me spede 
For, and eny man lay me by, 
My husbond would yt wete truly, 

294 It ys wythowtyn eny drede." 

The stuard seyd " for hym fat ys wrought, 
There-of, dame, drede the noght 

297 Wyth me to do that dede; 
Haue here of me xx marke 
Of gold and syluer styf and starke, 

300 Thys tresoure schatt be thy mede." 
" Syr, and I graunt fiat to you, 
Lett no man wete butt 1 we two nowe." 

303 He seyd, " nay, wythowtyn drede." 
The stuard fought, ' sykerly 
Women beth both qusynte & slye.' 

306 The mony he gan her bede ; 

He fought wele to haue be spedde, 
And of his erand he was onredde 

309 Or he were fro hem ) I-gone. 
Vp the sterys sche hyin leyde 

1 MS. Itlc 
2 



to the Wright's 
house, 



takes her round 

the neck, 

and offers her all 

[leaf 182] 

he has, to lie by 
her that night. 



She refuses, 



as her husband 
would be sure to 
know of it. 



The steward 
urges her again, 



and offers her 20 
marks. 



She says, " Then 
don't tell any 
one," 



takes his money, 



sends him up the 
quaint stairs, 



10 



THE STEWARD IS SHOT THROUGH THE TRAPDOOR, 



and lets him 
tumble through 
the trapdoor. 



" What the devil 
are you ? " says 
the Lord. 



[leaf 182, back] 

The steward finds 
he can't get out j 



and wonders why 
his Lord is there. 



" We both came 
on one errand, 
man." 

The wife asks 
what they're 
doing; 



the Lord says, 

" Your flax is 
done, and I want 
my dinner." 



The steward says 
if he ever gets out 
he'll crack 
her skull. 



But the wife 
chaffs him, 

says he'll soon be 
glad to eat 
his words, 



Tytt lie saw the wryghtes bedde : 
312 Of tresoure Jjought lie none ; 

He went and stumblyd att a stone ; 

In to jje seller 5 he fylle sone, 
315 Downe to the bare flore. 

The lord seyd " what deuytt art Jjou 1 

And jjou hadest falle on me nowe, 
318 Thowe hadest hurt me futt sore." 

The stnard stert and staryd abowte 

If he mygfrt ower gete owte 
321 Att hole lesse or mare. 

The lord seyd, " welcome, and sytt be tyme, 

For ]>ou schalt helpe to dyght thys lyne 
324 For att thy fers[e] fare." 

The stuard lokyd on the knyght, 

He seyd, " syr, for godes myght, 
327 My lord, what do yon here ? " 

He seyd " felowe, wyth-owtyn oth, 

For o erand we come bothe, 
330 The sothe wolle I nott lete." 

Tho cam the wyfe them vn-to, 

And seyd, "syres, what do you to, 
333 Wyft ye nott lerne to swete 1 " 

Than seyd ]je lord her vn-to, 

1 Dame, your* lyne ys I-doo, 

336 Nowe would I fayne ete : 

And I haue made yt att I-lyke, 

Futt clere, and no jjing thycke, 
339 Me thynketh yt gret payne." 

The stuard seyd " wyth-owtyn dowte, 

And euer I may wynne owte, 
342 I wytt breke her brayne." 

" Felowe, lett Ita, and sey nott so, 

For Jjou schalt worke or euer Jjou goo, 
345 Thy wordes Jjou tome agayne, 

Fayne Jjou schalt be so to doo, 

And thy good wylle put Jjerto ; 



BUT IS PROUD, AND WILL NOT WORK FOR HIS DINNER. 11 

348 As a man buxome and baync 

Thowe schalt rubbe, rele, and spynne, and unless he 

rubs and reels, 

And ]?ou wolt eny mete wynne, he'll get no meat. 

351 That I geue to god a gyfte." 

The stuard seyd, " then haue I wondyr ; "riidiefor 

-r, . , T T T i P T hunger first, 

Kather would I ay lor hungyr unhouseied," 

354 Wyth-owte hosytt or shryfte." 

The lord seyd, " so haue I hele, 

Thowe wylt worke, yf ]?ou hungyr welle, [leaf iss] 

357 What worke }>at the be brought." 

The lord satt and dyd hys werke, The Lord 

The stuard drewe in to the derke, 
360 Gret sorowe was in hys Bought. 

The lord seyd, " dame, here ys youre lyne, 

Haue yt in godes blessyng and myne, 
363 I hold yt welle I-wrought." 

Mete and drynke sche gaue hym yn), and gets ins 

" The stuard,"- sche seyd, " wolle he nott spynne, 
366 Wyft he do ryght noght ? " 

The lord seyd, " by swete sen lone, 

Of thys mete schatt he haue none None of it win he 

369 That ye haue me hydder brought." Se^rd?" 

The lord ete and dranke fast, but eats it ail up, 

The stuard hungeryd att j)e last, 
372 For he gaue hyni nought. 

The stuard satt att in a stody, 

Hys lord hadde forgote curtesy : 
375 Tho ! seyd jje stuard, " geue me some." [i MS, The] 

The lord seyd, " sorowe haue )>e morsett or sope 

That schatt come in thy throte ! and won't give 

_ -, , , him one crumb : 

378 JNott so much as o crome ! 

Butt j?ou wylt helpe to dyght jjis lyne, i e t him work and 

Much hungyr yt schatt be thyne %* for 

381 Though jjou make much nione." 

Yp he rose, and went therto, The steward 

" Better ys me ]?us to doo 
384 Whyle yt must nedys be do." 



12 



THE STEWARD IS OBLIGED TO WORK AFTER ALL. 



asks for work ; 
the wife throws 
it him, 



[leaf 183, back] 

and steward and 
Lord are both 
spinning away 



to earn their 
dinner, 



while the Lord's 
people cannot 
make out whathas 
become of him. 



The stuard began fast to knocke, 

The wyfe Jjrew hym a swyngelyng stocke, 

387 Hys mete Jjerwyth to wyn) ; 

Sche brought a swyngytt att J>e last, 

" Good syres," sche seyd, " swyngylle on fast ; 

390 For no j>ing that ye blynne." 

Sche gaue hym } a stocke to sytt vppon), 

And seyd "syres, Jus werke must nedys be done, 

393 Att that that ys here ynl" 

The stuard toke vp a stycke to saye, 
" Sey, seye, swyngytt better yf ye may, 

396 Hytt wytt be the better to spynne." 
"Were pe lord neuer so gret, 
Yet was he fayne to werke for hys mete 

399 Though he were neu<5r so sadde ; 
Butt ]?e stuard pat was so stowde, 
Was fayne to swyngelle ]>e scales owte, 

402 Ther-of he was nott glad. 

The lordys meyne Jjat were att home 
Wyst nott where he was bycome, 

405 They were futt sore adrad. 



Then the Proctor 
sees the wright 



and asks where 
he got his gar- 
land from. 



"With my wife; 



and while she is 
true it will 
never fade, 



but if she's false 
it will." 



The proctoure of J> e parysche chyrche rygftt 
Came and lokyd on Jje wryght, 

408 He lokyd as he ware madde ; 
Fast ]?e proctoure gan hym frayne, 
" Where hadest J>ou jjis garlond gayne ? 

411 It ys euer lyke newe." 

The wryght gan say " felowe, 
Wyth my wyfe, yf Jjou wylt knowe ; 

414 That dare me nott rewe ; 

For att the whyle my wyfe trew ys, 
My garload wolle hold hewe I-wys, 

417 And neuer falle nor fade j 

And yf my wyfe take a paramoure, 
Than wolle my garlond vade Jje floure, 

420 That dare I ley myne hede." 



THE PROCTOR TEMPTS THE WIFE, AND IS TRAPDOORED. 



13 



The proctoure fought, " in good faye 
That schaft I wete thys same daye 

423 Whether yt may so be." 

To the wryghtes hows he went, 

He grete J?e wyfe wyth feyre entente, 

426 Sche seyd "syr, welcome be ye." 
" A ! dame, my loue ys 011 you fast 
Syth the tyme I sawe you last ; 

429 I pray you yt may so be 

That ye would graunt me of your 1 grace 
To play wytA you in some pn'uy place, 

432 Or ellys to deth mutt me." 
Fast J?e proctoure gan to pray, 
And euer to hym* sche seyd " naye, 

435 That wolle I nott doo. 

Hadest J>ou done J>at dede wyih me, 
My spouse by hys garlond myght see, 

438 That schuld torne me to woo." 

The proctoure seyd, " by heuen kyng, 
If he sey to the any Jnng 

441 He schatt haue sorowe vn-sowte ; 
Twenty marke I wolle Jje geue, 
It wolle J>e helpe welle to lyue, 

444 The mony here haue I brought." 
No we hath sche the tresure tane, 
And vp J>e steyre be they gane, 

447 (What helpyth yt to lye ?) 

The wyfe went the steyre be-syde, 
The proctoure went a lytytt to wyde 

450 He felt downe by and by. 
Whan he in to J>e seller felle, 
He wente to haue sonke in to helle, 

453 He was in hart full sory. 

The stuard lokyd on the knyght, 
And seyd "proctoure, for godes myght, 

456 Come and sytt vs by." 

The proctoure began to stare, 



The proctor 
thinks he'll 
test this, 



goes to the 
wright's wife 



and declares his 
love for her ; 



lie must have her 
or die. 

[leaf 184] 



She says nay, 



as her husband 
will know of it 
by his garland. 



The proctor 



offers her 20 
marks. 



These she takes ; 
they go upstairs, 



and the proctor 
tumbles into the 
cellar, 



and thinks he is 
going to hell. 



The steward 
asks him to 
sit down; 



14 



THE PROCTOR CAN T MAKE OUT WHERE HE HAS GOT TO. 



but asks what 
the Lord and 
steward are 
after there, 



he doesn't know For lie was he wyst lieuer whare, 

459 Butt wele lie knewe J>e knyglit 

And the stuard fat swyngelyd Jje lyne. 

He seyd " syres, for godes pyne, 
462 What do ye here thys nyght ? " 

The stuard seyd, " god geue the care, 

Thowe camyst to loke howe we fare, 
465 Nowe helpe Jjis lyne were dyght." 

He stode styft in a gret fought, 

What to answer he wyst noght : 
468 " By mary futt of myght," 

The proctoure seyd, " what do ye in J?is yne 

For to bete thys wyfees lyne ? 
[leaf 184, back] 471 For Ihesus lone, ffutt of myght," 

The proctoure seyd ryght as he Jjought. 

" For me yt schatt be euytt wrought 
474 And I may see aryght, 

For I lernyd neuer in lond? 

For to haue a swyngeft in hond 
477 By day nor be nyght." 

The stuard seyd, " as good as J>ou. 

We hold vs that be here nowe, 
480 And lett preue yt be sygfrt ; 

Yet must vs worke for owre mete, 

Or ellys schaft we none gete, 
483 Mete nor drynke to owre honde." 

The lord seyd, " why flyte ye two 1 

I trowe ye wytt werke or ye goo, 
486 Yf yt be as I vndyrstond." 

Abowte he goys twyes or thryes ; 

They ete & drunke in such wyse 
489 That J>ey geue hym ryght noght. 

The proctoure seyd, " thynke ye no schame, 

Yheue me some mete, (ye be to blame,) 
492 Of that the wyfe ye brought." 

The stuard seyd " euyft spede the soppo 

If eny morceft come in thy tlirote 



working the 
wife's flax j 



he, the proctor, 
will never do 
the. like, 

it's not his trade. 



The steward says, 
" We're as good 
as you, and yet 



have to work for 
our food." 



The Lord says, 
" And you'll have 
to work ere 
you go." 



They eat and 
drink, and give 
the proctor 
nothing, 



to his great 
disgust, 



HE HAS TO WIND AND SPIN FOR HIS DINNER. 



15 



495 Butt ]>ou w?/t/i vs hadest wrought." 
The proctoure stode in a stody 
Whether he myght worke hem by ; 
498 And so to torne hys fought, 
To the lord he drewe nere, 
And to hym seyd wyt,h myld[e] chere, 

501 That mary mott the spede ! " 
The proctoure began to knocke, 
The good wyfe rawte hym a rocke, 

504 For therto hadde sche nede ; 

Sche seyd "whan I was mayde att home, 
Other werke cowde I do none 

507 My lyfe ther-wyth to lede." 

Sche gaue hym in hande a rocke hynde, 
And bade hem fast for to wynde 

510 Or ellys to lett be hys dede. 

"Yes, dame," he seyd, " so haue I hele, 
I schatt yt worke both feyre & welle 

513 As ye haue taute me." 

He wauyd vp a strycke of lyne, 
And he span Wele and fyne 

516 By-fore the swyngelt tre. 

The lord seyd " Jjou spynnest to grete, 
Therfor foil schalt haue no mete, 

519 That Jjou schalt weft see." 

Thus ey satt and wrought fast 
Tytt j>e wekedayes were past 

522 Then the wryght, home came he, 
And as he cam by hys hows syde 
He herd 1 noyse that was nott ryde 

525 Of persons two or thre ; 
One of hem knockyd lyne, 
A-nothyr swyngelyd good and fyne 

528 By-fore the swyngytt tre, 

The thyrde did rele and spynne, 
Mete and drynke ther-wyth to wynne, 

531 Gret nede ther-of hadde he. 



till at last 



he too knocks for 
work, 



gets a distaff and 
some winding to 
do, 

[leaf 185] 



and spins 
away well. 



Thus they all 
sit and work till 
the wright 
comes home. 

As he approaches 

he hears a noise, 

[ ' ? MS. hard] 



16 THE WRIGHT COMES HOME AND FINDS THE THREE CULPRITS. 



his wife comes to 
meet him, 



and he asks what 
all that noise 
is about. 

"Why, three 
workmen have 
come to help 
us, dear. 



Who are they?" 

The wright 
sees his Lord 
in the pit, 



and asks how 
[leaf 185, back] 



he came there. 



The Lord asks 
mercy : he is 
very sorry. 

" So am I," says 
the wright, " to 
see you among 
the flax 
and hemp," 



and orders his 
wife to let the 
Lord out. 
" No, bother my 
snout if I do," 
says the wife, 
" before his lady 
sees what he 
wanted to do 
\vith me." 

So she sends 
for the dame to 
fetch her 
lord home, 



Thus Jje wryght stode herkenyng ; 

Hys wyfe was ware of hys coinyng, 
534 And ageynst hym went sche. 

" Dame," he seyd, " what ys pis dynne 1 

I here gret noyse here wythynne ; 
537 Tett me, so god the spede." 

" Syr," sche seyd, " workemen thre 

Be come to helpe you and me, 
540 Ther-of we haue gret nede ; 

Fayne would I wete what they were." 

Butt when he sawe hys lord there, 
543 Hys hert bygan to drede : 

To see hys lord in pat place, 

He j>ought yt was a strange cas, 
546 And seyd, " so god hym spede, 

What do ye here, my lord and knyght ? 

Tett me nowe for godes myght 
549 Howe cam thys vn-to ? " 

The knyght seyd " What ys best rede 1 

Mercy I aske for my mysdede, 
552 My hert ys wondyr wo." 

" So ys myne, veramewt, 

To se you among thys flex and hempe, 
555 Fuft sore yt ruyth me ; 

To se you in such hevynes, 

Fuft sore myne hert yt doth oppresse, 
558 By god in trinite." 

The wryght bade hys wyfe lett hynJ owte, 

" Nay, pen sorowe come on my snowte 
561 If they passe hens to-daye 

Tyft that my lady come and see 

Howe pey would haue done wyth me, 
564 Butt nowe late me saye." 

Anon sche sent after the lady bryght 

For to fett home her lord and knyght, 
567 Therto sche seyd noght ; 

Sche told her what they hadde ment, 



THE LORD'S WIFE SEES HIM IN THE CELLAR. 



17 



And of ther purpos & ther intente 

570 That they would haue wrought. 
Glad was fat lady of that tydyng ; 
When sche wyst her lord was lyuyng, 

573 Ther-of sche was fuft fayne : 

Whan, sche came vn-to f e steyre abouen), 
Sche lokyd vn-to ]>e seller downe, 

576 And seyd, fis ys nott to leyne, 
" Good syres, what doo you here 1 " 
" Dame, we by owre mete fuft dere, 

579 Wyth gret trauayle and peyne ; 
I pray you helpe fat we were owte, 
And I wyft swere w?/t7i-owtyn dowte 

582 Neuer to come here agayne." 
The lady spake the wyfe vn-tylle, 
And seyd " dame, yf yt be youre wylle, 

585 What doo thes meyny here 1 " 

The carpentarys wyfe her answerd sykerly, 
" Aft they would haue leyne me by ; 

588 Euerych, in ther manere, 

Gold and syluer they me brought, 
And forsoke yt, and would yt noght, 

591 The ryche gyftes so clere. 

Wyllyng fey were to do me schame, 
I toke ther gyftes wyth-owtyn blame, 

594 And ther they be aft thre." 
The lady answerd her anon), 
" I haue thynges to do att home 

597 Mo than two or thre ; 

I wyst my lord neuer do ryght noght 
Of no f ing fat schuld be wrought, 

600 Such as fallyth to me." 

The lady lawghed and made good game 
Whan they came owte aft in-same 

603 From the swyngyft tre. 

The knyght seyd " felowys in fere, 
I am glad fat we be here, 



and tells her 
what he and his 
companions came 
there for. 
The lady 



looks down into 
the cellar, 
and says, " Good 
sirs, what are 
you doing?" 

" Earning our 
meat full dear : 



help us out, and 
I'll never come 
here again." 



The lady asks 
the wife why 
[leaf 186] 
the men are 
there. 

The wife says 
they wanted to 
lie with her, and 
offered her gold 
and silver ; 



she took their 
gifts, and there 
they are. 

The lady says 
she really wants 
her lord for 
herself, 



and laughs 
heartily when 
the three 
culprits come out. 

The Lord says, 



18 



THE WRIGHT ' WIFE SETS THE CULPRITS FREE. 



" Ah, you'd have 
worked too if 
you'd been 
with us, 



I never had such 
a turn in my life 
before, I can tell 
you." 

Then the Lord 
and lady go 
home, 



as ADAM of 

COBSAM says. 

(leaf 186, back] 
On their 
way home 



they halt, 

and the steward 
and proctor 
swear they'll 
never go back for 
five and forty 
years. 



The lady gives 
all their money to 
the wright's wife. 



The garland is 
fresh as ever. 



Thus true are all 
good women 
now alive ! 



606 By godes dere pyte ; 

Dame, and ye hadde bene wyth vs, 

Ye would haue wrought, by swete Ihesus, 

609 As welle as dyd we." 

And when they cam vp abouen) 
They turnyd abowte and lokyd downe, 

612 The lord seyd, " so god saue me, 
Yet hadde I neuer such a fytte 
As I haue hadde in J?at lowe pytte ; 

615 So mary so mutt me spede." 

The knyght and thys lady bryght, 
Howe they would home that nyght, 

618 For no thyng they would abyde ; 
And so they went home ; 
Thys seyd Adam of Cobsairj'. 1 

621 By the weye as they rode 

Throwe a wode in ther playeng, 
For to here the fowlys syng 

624 They hovyd sty lie and bode. 
The stuard sware by godes ore, 
And so dyd the proctoure much more, 

627 That neuer in ther lyfe 

Would they no more come in b#t wonnc 
Whan they were onys thens come, 

630 Thys forty yere and fyve. 

Of the tresure that they brought, 
The lady would geue hem ryght noght, 

633 Butt gaue yt to the wryghtes wyfe. 

Thus the wryghtes gaiiond was feyre of hcwe, 
And hys wyfe bothe good and trewe : 

636 There-of was he futt blythe ; 
I take wytnes att gret and small, 
Thus trewe bene good women aft 

639 That nowe bene on lyve, 

So come thryste on ther hedys 

1 The letter between the ~b and a has had the lower part 
marked over. But it must mean a long/. 



MAY ALL GOOD WIVES GO TO HEAVEN ! 

"Whan they mombylt on ther bedys 
642 Ther pater iwster ryue. 

Here ys wretyn a geste of the wryght 

That hadde a garlond welt I-dyght, 
645 The coloure wytt neuer fade. 

Now god, J>at ys heuyn kyng, 

Graunt vs alt hys dere blessyng 
648 Owre hertes for to glade ; 

And alt tho that doo her husbondys ryght, 

Pray we to Ihesu fult of myght, 
651 That feyre mott hem byfalle, 

And that they may come to heuen blys,. 

For thy dere moderys loue ther-of nott to mys, 
654 Alle good wyues alle. 

Now alle tho that thys tretys hath hard, 

Ihesu graunt hem, for her reward, 
657 As trew loners to be 

As was the wryght vn-to hys wyfe 

And sche to hym duryng her lyfe. 
660 Amen, for charyte. 

Here endyth the wryghtes processe trewe 
Wyth hys garlond feyre of hewe 

663 That neuer dyd fade the colonre. 
It was made, by the avyse 
Of hys wywes moder wytty and wyse, 

666 Of floury s most of honoure, 

Of roses whyte jjat wytt nott fade, 
Whych floure att ynglond doth glade, 

669 Wyth trewloues medelyd in syght ; 
Vn-to the whych floure I-wys 
The loue of god and of the comenys 

672 Subdued 1 bene of ryght. 

Explicit. 
1 May be subdicd; the word has been corrected. 



19 



Here then is 
written a tale 
of the Wright and 
his Garland. 



God grant us all 
his blessing, 



and may all true 
faithful wives 



come to heaven's 
bliss, 



and be such 



true lovers as the 
[leaf 187] 

wright and his 
wife were. 
Amen ! 

Here ends our 
tale of the 
Garland 



which was made 
of White Roses, 

the flowers that 
gladden all 
England, 



and receive the 
love of God, and 
of the Com- 
mons too. 



20 



NOTES, 



The two first of the three operations of flax-dressing described in lines 526-- 
529, p. 15, Qne of hem knockyd lyne> 

A-nothyr swyngelyd good and fyne 

By-fore the swyngytt-tre, 
The thyrde did rele and spynne, 

must correspond to the preliminary breaking of the plant, and then the scutching or 
beating to separate the coarse tow or hards from the tare or fine hemp. Except so 
far as the swingle served as a heckle, the further heckling of the flax, to render the 
fibre finer and cleaner, was dispensed with, though heckles (iron combs) must have 
been in use when the poem was written inasmuch as hekele, hekelare, hekelyn, and 
hekelynge, are in the Promptorium, ab. 1440 A.D. Under Hatchell, Randle Holme 
gives a di'awing of a heckle. 

The lines through the h's in the MS. are not, I believe, marks of contraction. 
There are no insettings of the third lines, or spaces on changes of subject, in the MS. 

For reference to two analogous stories to that of the Poem, I am indebted 
to Mr Thomas Wright. The first is that of Constant Dnhamel in the third 
volume of Barbazan, and the second that of the Prioress and her three Suitors in 
the Minor Poems of Dan John Lydgate, published by the Percy Society, ed. 
Halliwell. 

In the Barbazan tale " the wife is violently solicited by three suitors, the 
priest, the provost, and the forester, who on her refusal persecute her husband. To 
stop their attacks she gives them appointments at her house immediately after one 
another, so that when one is there and stripped for the bath, another comes, and, 
pretending it is her husband, she conceals them one after another in a large tub 
full of feathers, out of which they can see all that is going on in the room. She 
then sends successively for their three wives to come and bathe with her, the bath 
being still in the same room, and as each is stripped naked in the bath, she in- 
troduces her own husband, who dishonours them one after another, one o Vcnvcrse, 
with rather aggravating circumstances, and all in view of their three husbands. 
Finally the latter are turned out of the house naked, or rather well feathered, then 
hunted by the whole town and their dogs, well bitten and beaten." 

(If any one wants to see a justification of the former half of the proverb quoted 
by Roberd of Brunne, Frenche men gynne yn kcherye 

And Englys men yn enuye, 

let him read the astounding revelation made of the state of the early French mind 
by the tales in the 3rd and 4th vols. of Barbazan's Fabliaux, ed. 1808.) 

The second story, told by Lydgate, is as follows : A prioress is wooed by " a 
young knyght, a parson of a paryche, and a burges of a borrow." She promises 
herself to the first if he will lie for a night in a chapel sewn up in a sheet like a 
corpse ; to the second, if he will perform the funeral service over the knight, and 
bury him ; to the third, if he will dress up like a devil, and frighten both parson 
and knight. This the burges Sir John does well, but is himself terrified at the 
corpse getting up : all three run away from one another : the knight falls on a 
stake, and into a snare set for bucks, and breaks his fore top in falling from the 
tree ; the merchant gets tossed by a bull ; the parson breaks his head and jumps 
into a bramble bush ; and the prioress gets rid of them all, but not before she has 
made the "burges" or " marchaunt" pay her twenty marks not to tell his wife and 
the country generally of his tricks. Minor Poems, p. 107117, ed. 1840. 



21 



GLOSSARY. 



And, 89, 292, if. 
Bayne, .348, ready. 

Blynne, 4, cease, stop ; AS. 

blinnan. 
Blyue, 44, 110, 118, speedily. 

Bonde, 226, a bund-le ; DM. 

bondt, a bavin, a bush of thornes. 
Brayne, 342, scull. 

Broke 165, enjoy. AS. brucan, 
Germ, brauchen. H. Coleridge. 

Brydalle, 71, AS. bryd-dl, bride 
ale, marriage feast. 

By, 197, buy. 

Chaste, 176, chest, box, pit. 

Dowte, 14, fear. 

Dyght, 323, 379, prepare, dress. 

Fare, 148, 324, going on, wish, 

project. 

Fere, 604, company. 
Flyte, 484, wrangle, quarrel ; 

AS. ^7, strife, wrangling. 
Forthynketh, 51, repents, makes 

sorry; AS. for\>encan> to despair. 
Frayne, 409, ask; AS. fregnan, 

Goth, fraihnan. 
Gan, 22, did. 

Geue to God a gyfte, 351, 1 make 
a vow, 1 promise you, I'll take my 
oath. 

Hele, 140, salvation. 
Hovyd, 624, halted, stopt. 
Hynde, 508? natty; hende, gentle. 
I-doo, 335, done, finished. 
I-dyght, 644, prepared. 



In-same, 602, together. 
Layne, 68, hide, conceal. 

Lende, 107, stay; ?AS. landian, 

to land, or lengian, to prolong. 
Leyne, 231, lay, beat. 

Lyne, 214, AS. lin, flax; Irope, 

246. 

Meyne, 403, household. 
Myster, 12, trade; Fr. mestier. 
0, 329, one. 

Onredde, 308 ; AS. unret, unrot, 
uncheerful, sorrowful, or unr&d, 
imprudent. 

0]?re, 205, second. 

Putry, 61, adultery; O.Fr.puterie, 
whoring. 

Rawte, 503, reached, gave. 

Eewe, 186, have pity. 

Rocke, 503, 508 ; Du. een Rocke, 
Spinrock, A Distaffe, or a Spin- 
rock ; Rocken, To Winde Flaxe or 
Wool upon a Rock (Hexham). 
Dan. rok, O.N. rokkr, G. rocken : 
" a distaff held in the hand from 
which the thread was spun by 
twirling a ball below. 'What, 
shall a woman with a rokke drive 
thee away ? ' ' Digby Mysteries, 
p. 11 (HalliweH). "An Instru- 
ment us'd in some Parts for the 
spinning of Flax and Hemp." 
Phillips ; for reeling and spinning 
(1. 529). 

Rought, 198, AS. rohte, p. of 

recan, to reck, care for. 
Ryde, 524, light, small, AS. 

geryd, levis, seauus. Lye. 



22 



GLOSSARY. 



Ry e, 642, Du. rijf, rife, or 

abundant. 
Scales, 401 ; ? husks, bark, or rind, 

see shoves *, in Swyngylle, below. 
Schent, 258, destroyed ; AS. 

scendan. 

Stounde, 4, short time, 
Strycke, 514, " Strike of Flax, is 

as much as is heckled at one 

Handful." Phillips. 

Swyngylle, 216, "Swingle-Staff, 
a Stick to beat Flax with," Phil. ; 
AS. swingele, a whip, lash. " To 
swingle, to beat; a Term among 
Flax- dressers." Phillips. Thqugh 
Handle Holme, Bfc. HI., ch. vin. 
No. xxxiii., gives the Swingle-Tree 
of a Coach- Pole (these are made 
of wood, and are fastened by Iron 
, hooks, stables (sic) chains and 
pinns to the Coach-pole, to the 
which Horses are fastened by their 
Harnish when there is more then 
two to draw the Coach), yet at 
Chap, vi., iv., p. 285, col. 1, he 
says, " He beareth Sable, a Swingle 
Hand erected, Surmounting of a 
Swingle Foot, Or. This is a 
Wooden Instrument made like a 
Fauehion, with an hole cut in the 
top of it, to hold it by : It is used 
for the clearing of Hemp and Flax 
from the large broken Stalks or 
* Shoves, by the help of the said 
Swingle Foot, which it is hung 
upon, which said Stalks being first 
broken, bruised, and cut into 
shivers by a Brake. 
S. 3, such erected in Fesse 0. born 
by Flaxlowe. 

S. 3, such in Pale A., born by 
Swinqler" 

(A drawing is given by Holme, 
No. 4, on the plate opposite p. 
285.) 

" Swingowing is the beating off the 
bruised inward stalk of the Hemp 



or Flax, from the outward pill, 
which as (sic) the Hemp or Flax, 
p. 106, col. 2. 

Spinning is to twist the Flax hairs 
into Yarn or Thrid. Reeling is to 
wind the Yarn of the Wheel Spool 
on a Reel," p. 107, Col. 2. 

Take, 161, deliver. 

The, 187, thrive. 

Tolle, 62, entice (H. H. Gibbs). 

Tre, 105, wood, timber. 

Trewloves, 669, either figures like 
true-lovers' knots, or the imitations 
of the herb or flower Truelove, 
which is given by Coles as Herb 
Paris (a quatrefoil whose leaves 
bear a sort of likeness to a true- 
lovers' knot), and in Halliwell as 
one-berry v but I cannot find that 
Edward IV. had any such plants 
on his arms or badge. Knots were 
often worn as badges, see Ed- 
monston's Heraldry, Appendix, 
Knots. On the other hand, Wille- 
ment (Regal Heraldry) notices that 
the angels attending Richard II. 
in the picture at Wilton, had 
collars worked with white roses 
and broom-buds ; and trueloves, if 
a plant be meant by it, may have 
been Edward's substitute for the 
broom (planta genista). The 
Trewloves bear, one, Ar. on a chev. 
sa., three cinquefoils, or ; the other, 
Ar. on a chev. sa., a quatrefoil of 
the field. 

Vade, 1 125, 419,fade; Du. vadden 

(Hexham). 

Wone, 275, store, quantity. 
Wonne, 90, 628, dwelling. 
Woode, 153, wild, mad. 
Yheue, 491, give. 

Yougeth, 20, youth, bachelor's 
freedom. 



1 The use of the flat vade (1. 419, p. 12) within 2 lines of the sharp /ade 
(1. 417), corresponds with the flat ' stowde,' 1. 400, p. 12, riming with 'owte,' 
1. 401, badde with hatte, 1. 265-6. Cost, brest, 1. 142-H, are careless rimes too. 



23 



WOMEN, 

[Lambeth MS. 306, leaf 135.] 



Women), women), loue of women), 
make bare purs vriih some men), 
Some be nyse as a nonne hene, 1 
4. 3it al thei be nat soo. 
some be lewde, 
some all be schrewde ; 
Go sclirewes wher/thei goo. 

8 Sum! be nyse, and some be fonde, 
And some be tame, y vndirstonde, 
And some cane take brede of a manes hande, 2 

Yit all thei be nat soo. 
12 [Some be lewde, &c.] 

Some cane part with-outen hire, [leaf iss, back] 

And some make bate in eueri chire, 
And some cheke mate with oure Sire, 
16 Yit all they be nat so. 
Some be lewde, 
and sume be schreuede, 
go wher they goo. 

1 The Rev. J. R. Lumby first told me of the proverb ' As white as a nun's 
hen,' the nuns being famous, no doubt, for delicate poultry. John Heywood 
has in his Proverbes, 1562 (first printed, 1546), p. 43 of the Spencer Society's 
reprint, 1867, ghe tooke thenterteinment of the yong men 

All in daliaunce, as nice as a Nun's lien. 

The proverb is quoted by Wilson in his Arte of Khetori^ue^ 1553 CHazlitt's 
Proverbs, p. 69). 

2 For honde. 



24 WOMEN. 

20 Som be browne, and some be whit, 
And some be tender as a ttripe, 
And some of theym be chiry ripe, 

Yit all thei be not soo. 
24 Sume be lewde, 

and some be schrewede, 
go wher they goo. 

Some of then? be treue of love 
28 Benetfi. J>e gerdeH, but nat above, 
And in a hode aboue cane chove, 
Yit all thei do nat soo. 

Some be lewde, 

32 and some be schreude, 

go where they goo. 

Some cane whister, & some cane crie, 
Some cane fiater, and some can lye, 
36 And some cane sette be moke awrie, 
Yit all thei do nat soo. 
Sume be lewde, 
and sume be schreuede, 
40 go where thei goo. 

He that made this songe full good, 
Came of be north and of be sothern) blode, 
And some-what kyne to Eobyn) Hode, 
44 Yit all we be nat soo. 
Some be lewde, 
and some be schrewede, 
go where they goo. 

48 Some be lewde, some be [s]chrwde, 
Go where they goo. 

Explicit. 

P.S. This Poem was printed by Mr Halliwell in Reliquia Antigua, vol. i., 
p. 248, and reprinted by Mr Thomas Wright, at p. 103 of his edition of Songs 
and Carols for the Percy Society, 1847. As, besides minor differences, the 
reprint has manne, and the original nanne, for what I read as nonne, 1. 3, 
while both have withowte for with oure, 1. 15, and accripe for a ttripe, 1. 21 
(see Halliwell's Dictionary, " accripe^ a herb ? "), I have not cancelled this 
impression. The other version of the song, from Mr Wright's MS. in his text, 
pp. 89 91, differs a good deal from that given above. 



Richard Clay <L toons, Limited, London and tiungay. 



25 



ADDITIONAL ANALOGUES 

OF 

"THE WRIGHT'S CHASTE WIFE." 

BY W. A. CLOUSTOK 

THE numerous versions of this old and wide-spread story should 
be divided into two groups : I. Those in which there is a test of 
chastity, and the lovers are entrapped; II. Those in which there 
is no such test, but the suitors are (a) entrapped, or (b) engaged to 
perform unpleasant or dangerous tasks. 

I. It is probable that some oral version of The Wright's Chaste 
Wife suggested to Massinger the plot of his comedy of The Picture 
(printed in 1630) : Mathias, a Bohemian knight, about to go to the 
wars, expresses to his confidant Baptista, a great scholar, his fears 
lest his wife Sophia, on whom he doated fondly, should prove 
unfaithful during his absence. Baptista gives him a picture of his 
wife, saying : 

" Carry it still about you, and as oft' 
As you desire to know how slie's affected, 
With curious eyes peruse it. While it keeps 
The figure it has now entire and perfect 
She is not only innocent in fact 
But imattempted ; but if once it vary 
From the true form, and what's now white and red 
Incline to yellow, rest most confident 
She's with all violence courted, but unconquered ; 
But if it turn all black, 'tis an assurance 
The fort by composition or surprise 
Is forced, or with her free consent surrendered." 

On the return of Mathias from the wars, he is loaded with rich gifts 
by Honoria, the wife of his master Ferdinand, king of Hungary ; and 
when he expresses his desire to return to his fair and virtuous wife, 
Honoria asks him if his wife is as fair as she, upon which he shows 
her the picture. The queen resolves to win his love merely to 
gratify her own vanity and persuades him to remain a month at 
court. She then despatches two libertine courtiers to attempt the 
virtue of Mathias' wife. They tell her Mathias is given to the 



26 " THE WRIGHT'S CHASTE WIFE " : 

society of strumpets moreover, not young, but old and ugly ones ; 
so poor Sophia begins to waver. Meanwhile the queen makes 
advances to Mathias, which at first he rejects; but afterwards, seeing 
a change in his wife's picture, he consents, when the queen says she 
will think over it and let him know her decision. Sophia, at first 
disposed to entertain her suitors' proposals, on reflection determines 
to punish their wickedness ; and, pretending to listen favourably to 
one of them, she causes him to be stripped to his shirt and locked in 
a room, where he is compelled to spin flax (like the suitors in our 
story), or go without food. The other fares no better, and the play 
concludes with the exposure of the libertines to the king and queen, 
their attendants, and the lady's husband. 

The 69th chapter of the continental Gesta Romanorum (translated 
by Swan) is to the following effect : l A carpenter receives from his 
mother-in-law a shirt, having the wonderful quality of remaining 
unsoiled so long as he and his wife were faithful to each other. The 
emperor, who had employed him in the erection of a palace, is 
astonished to observe his shirt always spotless, and asks him the 
cause of it; to which he replies, that it is a proof of his wife's 
unsullied virtue. A soldier, having overheard this, sets off to attempt 
the wife's chastity, but she contrives to lock him in a room, where 
she keeps him on bread and water. Two other soldiers successively 
visit her on the same errand, and share their comrade's fate. When 
the carpenter has finished his job, he returns home and shows the 
unsullied shirt to his wife, who in her turn exhibits to him the three 
soldiers, whom he sets free on their promising to reform their ways. 

The general resemblance of our story to this Gesta version does 
not, I think, render it therefore certain, or even probable, that the 
latter is the source whence it was derived ; since a test similar to 
that of the Garland (for which a shirt is substituted in the Gesta) 
occurs both in the Indian original and in an intermediate Persian 
form, which is of Indian extraction. 

In the celebrated Persian story-book, Nakhshabi's Tuti Ndma 
(Tales of a Parrot), written about A.D. 1306, the wife of a soldier, on 
his leaving home to enter the service of a nobleman, gives him a 
nosegay which, she tells him, would remain in full bloom while she 
was faithful to him. After some time, the nobleman inquired of the 
soldier how he managed to procure a fresh nosegay every day in mid- 
winter, and was informed that its perennial bloom betokened his 

1 Here given somewhat more fully than in the additional postscript to the 
Preface to the second edition of The Wrights Chaste Wife, 1869. 



ADDITIONAL ANALOGUES. 27 

wife's chastity. The nobleman sends one of his cooks to try to form 
an intimacy with the soldier's wife, but she craftily entraps him. A 
second cook is despatched to learn the fate of the first, and meets 
with a similar reception. At last the nobleman himself sets off 
with his attendants among whom was the soldier to visit the 
chaste wife. He is received by her with great courtesy, and his two 
cooks, dressed as female slaves, are made by the wife to wait upon 
him at supper. The happy soldier then returns his wife the nosegay, 
fresh and blooming as ever. 

The oldest form of the story yet known is found in the great 
Sanskrit collection entitled Kathd Sarit Sdr/ara 1 (Book II., ch. 13) : 
A merchant named Guhasena is compelled to leave his wife, Deva- 
smita, for a season, on important business matters. The separation 
is very painful to both, and the pain is aggravated by fears on the 
wife's part of her husband's inconstancy. To make assurance doubly 
sure, Siva was pleased to appear to them in a dream, and giving them 
two red lotuses, the god said to them : " Take each of you one of 
these lotuses in your hand ; and if either of you shall be unfaithful 
during your separation, the lotus in the hand of the other shall fade, 
but not otherwise." The husband set out on his journey, and 
arriving in the country of Kataha he began to buy and sell jewels 
there. Four young merchants, learning the purport of his lotus and 
the virtue of his wife, set off to put it to the proof. On reaching the 
city where the chaste Devasmita resided, they bribe a female ascetic 
to corrupt the lady, so she goes to her house, and adopting the device 
of the little she-dog see ch. xxviii. of Swan's Gesta Romanorum? 
which she pretends is her own co-wife in a former birth, re-born in 
that degraded form, because she had been over-chaste, and warns 
Devasmita that such should also be her fate if she did not " enjoy 
herself " during her husband's absence. The wise Devasmita said to 
herself : " This is a novel conception of duty ; no doubt this woman 
has laid a treacherous snare for me," and so she said to the ascetic : 
" Eeverend lady, for this long time I have been ignorant of this duty, 
so procure me an interview with some agreeable man." Then the 

1 'Ocean of the Streams of Story,' written in Sanskrit verse, by Somadeva, 
towards J;he end of the llth century, after a similar work, the Vrihat Ka'hd, 

has hitherto been 
Professor C. H. 
the tales, has lately 
been published, in two vols., large 8vo, at Calcutta. 

2 Taken into the Gesta, probably from the Disciplina Clericalis of P. Alfonsus. 
The incident is also the subject of a fabliau, and occurs in all the Eastern 
versions of the Book of Sindibdd. 



28 " THE WRIGHT'S CHASTE WIFE " : 

ascetic said : " There are residing here some young merchants, who 
have come from a distant country, so I will bring them to you." The 
crafty old hag returns home delighted with the success of her 
stratagem. In the meantime Devasmita resolves to punish the four 
young merchants. So calling her maids, she instructs them to 
prepare some wine mixed with datura (a stupefying drug), and to 
have a dog's foot of iron made as soon as possible. Then she causes 
one of her maids to dress herself to resemble her mistress. The 
ascetic introduces one of the young libertines into the lady's house in 
the evening, and then returns home. The maid, disguised as her 
mistress, receives the young merchant with great courtesy, and, 
having persuaded him to drink freely of the drugged wine till he 
became senseless, the other women strip off his clothes, and, after 
branding him on the forehead with the dog's foot, during the night 
push him into a filthy ditch. On recovering consciousness he returns 
to his companions, and tells them, in order that they should share 
his fate, that he had been robbed on his way home. The three other 
merchants in turn visit the house of Devasmita, and receive the same 
treatment. Soon afterwards the pretended devotee, ignorant of the 
result of her device, visits the lady, is drugged, her ears and nose are 
cut off, and she is flung into a foul pond. In the sequel, Devasmita, 
disguised in man's apparel, proceeds to the country of the young 
libertines, where her husband had been residing for some time, and, 
going before the king, petitions him to assemble all his subjects, 
alleging that there are among the citizens four of her slaves who had 
run away. Then she seizes upon the four young merchants, and 
claims them as her slaves. The other merchants indignantly cried 
out that these were reputable men, and she answered that if their 
foreheads were examined they would be found marked with a dog's 
foot. On seeing the four young men thus branded, the king was 
astonished, and Devasmita thereupon related the whole story, and all 
the people burst out laughing, and the king said to the lady : " They 
are your slaves by the best of titles." The other merchants paid a 
large sum of money to the chaste wife to redeem them from slavery, 
and a fine to the king's treasury. And Devasmita received the 
money, and recovered her husband; was honoured by all men, 
returned to her own city, and was never afterwards separated from 
her beloved. 

Tests of chastity such as those in the above stories are very 
common in our old European romances. In Amadis de Gaul it is a 
garland ; in Perce Forest it is a rose, which, borne by a wife or a 






ADDITIONAL ANALOGUES. 29 

maiden of immaculate virtue, retains its bloom, but withers if the 
wearer is unchaste. In Tristram, Perceval, La Morte d' Arthur, and 
Ariosto, the test is a cup, the wine in which is spilled by the 
unfaithful lover or wife who attempts to drink from it. In one of 
the fabliaux of the northern minstrels of France the test is a 
mantle, ' Le Manteau mal taille ' : an English rendering of this, 
entitled 'The Boy and the Mantle,' is found in Percy's Rdiques. 
And in Spenser we have the girdle of Florimel. 

II. To the first subdivision (a) of the second group of variants, 
in which there is no test of chastity, but the suitors are entrapped, 
belongs the fabliau in Barbazan, torn, iii., of ' Constant du Hamel, 
on la Dame qui atrappa un Pretre, un Prevost, et un Forestier,' an 
abstract of which will be found in the original notes to our story ; 
also the old ballad of The Friar well-fitted, of which some account 
is furnished by Dr Furnivall in an additional Postscript to his 
Preface (Second Edition, 1869). 1 

In an imperfect MS. text of the Book of the Thousand and One 
Nights, brought from Constantinople by Wortley Montagu, and now in 
the Bodleian Library, Oxford, there are two versions : Nights 726- 
728, 'The Lady of Cairo and her Three. Gallants/ and Nights 738- 
743, ' The Virtuous Woman of Cairo and her Four Suitors.' Dr Jona- 
than Scott has given a translation of the second of these in the sixth 
volume of his edition of the Arabian Nights: The lady is solicited 
by the judge, the collector- general of port-duties, the chief of the 
butchers, and a rich merchant. She makes an assignation with each 

1 For members of the E. E. T. S. who possess only the 1865 edition, it may 
be as well to reproduce Dr Furnivall's note here : 

"With The Wright's Chaste Wife may also he compared the ballad of 
' The Fryer well-fitted ; or 

A Pretty jest that once hefel, 
How a maid put a Fryer to cool in the well,' 

printed 'in the Bagfor.l Collection; in the Roxburghe (ii, 172); the Pepys 
(iii. 145) ; the Douce (p. 85) ; and in Wit and Mirth, an Antidote to Melancholy, 
8vo, 1682, also, in an altered form, in Pills to Purge Melancholy, 1707, i. 340, 
or 1719, iii. 325 ' ; and the tune of which, with an abstract of the story, is given 
in Chappell's Popular Music, i. 273-5. The Friar makes love to the maid ; she 
refuses him for fear of hell-fire. 

Tush, quoth the Friar, thou needest not doubt ; 
If thou wert in Hell, I could sing thee out. 

So she consents if he'll bring her an angel of money. He goes home to fetch it, 
and she covers the well with a cloth. When he comes back and has given her 
the money, she pretends that her father is coming, tells the Friar to run behind 
the cloth, and down he flops into the well. She won't help him at first, because 
if he could sing her out of hell, he could clearly sing himself out of the well : 
but at last she does help him out, keeps his money because he's dirtied the water, 
and sends him home dripping along the street like a new-washed sheep." 



3D 

at her own house of course at different hours and acquaints her 
husband of her plan to punish them, and at the same time reap some 
profit. The judge comes first, and presents her with a rosary of 
pearls. She makes him undress, and put on a robe of yellow muslin, 
and a parti-coloured cap her husband all the time looking at him 
through an opening in the door of a closet. Presently a loud knock 
is heard at the street-door, and on the pretence that it is her husband, 
the judge is pushed into an adjoining room. The three other suitors, 
as they successively arrive, bring each a valuable present, and are 
treated in like manner. The husband now enters, and the lady tells 
him to the consternation, doubtless, of the imprisoned suitors that 
in returning from the bazaar she had met four antic fellows, whom 
she had a great mind to bring home with her for his amusement. 
He affects to be vexed that she had not done so, since he must go 
from home to-morrow. The lady then says they are, after all, in the 
next room, upon which the husband insists on their being brought 
before him, one after another. So the judge is dragged forth in his 
absurd attire, and compelled to caper like a buffoon, after which he 
is made to tell a story, and is then dismissed. The others, having in 
turn gone through a similar performance, are also sent packing. 

There is another Arabian version in the famous romance of the 
Seven Vazirs, which now forms part of the Thousand and One Nights. 
The wife of a merchant, during one of his journeys of business, had 
a young man as a substitute, Avho happened one day to be engaged 
in a street brawl, and was apprehended by the police. She dressed 
herself in her richest apparel, and repaired to the wall, or chief of 
the police, and begged him to release her ' brother/ who was her 
only protector, and against whom hired witnesses had sworn falsely. 
The wall, seeing her great beauty, consents, on condition that she 
should receive him at her house. She appoints a certain evening, 
and the wall, enraptured, gives her twenty dinars (about ten pounds 
of our money), saying, " Expend this at the bath ; " and so she left 
the wall with his heart busy thinking of all her charms. In like 
manner to be brief the lady arranges with the kazi, or judge, the 
vazir, or minister of state, and the hajib, or city governor, that they 
should come to her the same evening, appointing, of course, a differ- 
ent hour for each. She then goes to a joiner, and desires him to 
make her a large cabinet with four compartments. The poor crafts- 
man, also smitten with her beauty, asks, as his only reward, that he 
should be permitted to spend an evening with her. "In that case," 
says she, " you must make a fifth compartment," and appointed an 



ADDITIONAL ANALOGUES. 31 

hour for him to visit her, the same evening she had fixed for the four 
city officials. When the wall arrived, she feasted him abundantly, 
then taking off his robes, dressed him in gay-coloured clothes, and 
plied him with wine till he was intoxicated ; and when he had written 
an order to the jailor to release the young man, lo ! there was a loud 
knocking at the gate. " Who is coming 1 " asks the wali, in alarm. 
" It is my husband," replies the lady; "get into this cabinet, and I 
will return presently and let you out." Thus, as they came, the 
crafty lady entraps the four dignitaries and the poor joiner. Having 
sent a servant to the prison with the wall's order, her lover soon 
arrived, and they both set off for another city, with all the valuables 
-they could carry. In the morning the landlord of the house, finding 
the gate open, entered, and hearing voices from the cabinet was 
alarmed, and summoned the neighbours. The cabinet was carried 
to the palace of the sultan, who sent for carpenters and smiths, and 
caused it to be broken open, when lo ! he discovered the wali, the 
kazi, the vazir, the hajib, and the poor joiner in their fantastic 
dresses. And the sultan laughed till he almost fainted, and com- 
manded the story to be written from first to last. Search was made 
for the lady and her lover, but they were never discovered. 1 

In the Persian romance entitled Balidr-i Danish, or ' Spring of 
Knowledge/ by Inayatu-'llah of Delhi, a lady named Gohera, whose 
husband was in the hands of the police, makes assignations with the 
kotwal (chief of police) and the kazi, one of whom is entrapped in a 
great jar, the other in a chest ; and next morning she causes porters 
to carry them before the sultan, who orders them to be punished, and 
her husband to be set at liberty. And in the Persian tales of the 
' Thousand and One Days ' (Hazdr-yek Ruz), by Mukhlis, of Ispahan 
(Day 146 ff.), Aruya, the virtuous wife of a merchant, entraps, with 
her husband's sanction, a judge, a doctor, and the city governor. 

The story is known, in various forms, throughout India, where, 
indeed, it had its origin. In the Indian Antiquary, 1873, there is a 
translation by G. H. Damant, of a folk-tale of Dinajpur, entitled 
'The Touchstone/ in the concluding portion of which a young 
woman consents to receive at her house the kotwal at the first watch 
of the night ; the king's counsellor at the second watch ; the king's 
minister at the third watch ; and the king himself at the fourth watch. 
She smears the kotwal with molasses, pours water on him, covers his 
whole body with cotton wool, and then secures him near the window. 

1 In the Bodleian MS. of The Nights referred to above, this story is told 
separately from the Seven Vazirs. Nifjhts, 726728. 



32 " THE WRIGHT'S CHASTE WIFE " : 

The counsellor is hidden under a mat ; the minister behind a bamboo- 
screen; and when the king comes, last of all, and sees the frightful 
figure of the kotwal in the window, he asks what it is, and she, 
replies that it is a rakshasa (a species of demon), upon which the 
king, minister, and counsellor flee from the house in dread of the 
monster. The kotwal is then released, and makes the best of his 
way home in his hideous condition. 

In Miss Stokes' charming Indian Fairy Tales (No. 28), a mer- 
chant's clever wife, daring his absence, takes four hanks of thread to 
the bazaar to sell, and is accosted in turn by the kotwal, the vazir, the 
kazi, and the king, to each of whom she grants an interview at her 
house, at different hours, and contrives to entrap them into chests. . 
In the morning she hires four stout coolies, who take the chests on 
their .backs, and proceeding to the houses of her suitors, disposes of 
them to their sons for various sums of money, telling each that the 
chest contained something he would value far beyond the sum she 
asked. A very similar Bengali version, ' Adi's Wife,' is given by 
Damant in the Indian Antiquary" vol. ix. p. 2. And there is a 
curious variant in Narrain Sawmy's Select Tamil Tales, Madras, 
1839, in which Eamakistnan (an Indian Scogin or Tyl Eulenspiegel) 
entraps the raja and his domestic chaplain, whom he induces to dis- 
guise themselves as women, on the pretext that he would introduce 
them to the beautiful wife of a man who had lately come to lodge at 
his house. The jester having locked them, one after the other, in 
the same room, when they recognize each other they are much ashamed, 
and softly request to be let out, but this Ramakistuan does only after 
they have solemnly promised to forgive him a hundred offences every 
day. 

"We now come to a second Sanskrit form of the story in the 
Katlid Sarit Sdgara (Book I. ch. 4), from which the foregoing Indian, 
Persian, and Arabian versions have evidently been adapted or imitated. 
The storyteller, Vararuchi, relates that before proceeding to Himalaya 
to propitiate Siva with austerities, he deposited in the hand of the 
merchant Hiranyadatta all his wealth for the maintenance of his 
family during his absence, at the same time informing his wife 
Upakosa of it, and he thus proceeds : 

" Upakosa, on her part anxious for my success, remained in her 
own house, bathing every day in the Ganges, strictly observing her 
vow. One day, when spring had come, she being still beautiful, 
though thin and slightly pale, and charming to the eyes of men, like 
the streak of the new moon, was seen by the king's domestic chaplain 



ADDITIONAL ANALOGUES. 33 

while going to bathe in the Ganges, and also by the head magistrate, 
and by the prince's minister ; and immediately they all became a 
target for the arrows of love. It happened, too, somehow or other, 
that she took a long time bathing that day, and as she was returning 
in the evening, the prince's minister laid violent hands on her; but 
she with great presence of mind said to him : ' Dear sir, I desire this 
as much as you, but I am of respectable family, and my husband is 
away from home. How can I act thus 1 Some one might perhaps 
see us, and then misfortune would befall you as well as me. There- 
fore you must come without fail to my house in the first watch of 
the night of the spring-festival, when the citizens are all excited [and 
will not observe you].' When she had said this, and pledged herself, 
he let her go ; but as chance would have it, she had not gone many 
steps further before she was stopped by the king's domestic cha-plain. 
She made a similar assignation with him also, for the second watch 
of the same night ; and so he too was, though with difficulty, induced 
to let her go. But after she had gone a little further, up comes a 
third person, the head magistrate, and detains the trembling lady. 
Then she made a similar assignation with him also, for the third 
watch of the same night ; and having by great good fortune got him 
to release her, she went home all trembling. Of her own accord she 
told her handmaids the arrangements she had made, reflecting, ' Death 
is better for a woman of good family, when her husband is away, than 
to meet the eyes of people who lust after beauty.' Full of these 
thoughts and regretting me, the virtuous lady spent that night in 
fasting, lamenting her own beauty. 

" Early the next morning she sent a maidservant to the merchant 
Hiranyadatta to ask for some money in order that she might honour 
the Brahmans. Then that merchant also came, and said to her in 
private : ' Show me love, and then I will give you what your husband 
deposited.' When she heard that, she reflected that she had no 
witness to prove the deposit of her husband's wealth, and perceived 
that the merchant was a villain ; and so, tortured with sorrow and 
grief, she made a fourth and last assignation with him for the last 
watch of the same night ; and so he went away. In the meanwhile 
she had prepared by her handmaids, in a large vat, lamp-black mixed 
with oil and scented with musk and other perfumes, and she made 
ready four pieces of rag anointed with it, and she caused to be made 
a large trunk with a fastening outside. 

"So on that day of the spring-festival the prince's minister came 
in the first watch of the night in gorgeous array. When he had 



34 "THE WRIGHT'S CHASTE WIFE": 

entered without being observed, Upakosd said to him : ' I will not 
receive you until you have bathed ; so go in and bathe.' The simple- 
ton agreed to that, and was taken by the handmaids into a secret, dark 
inner apartment. There they took off his under-garments and his 
jewels, and gave him by way of an under-garment a single piece of 
rag, and they smeared the rascal from head to foot with a thick coating 
of that lamp-black and oil, pretending it was an unguent, without his 
detecting it. While they continued rubbing it into every limb, the 
second watch of the night came, and the chaplain arrived ; the hand- 
maids thereupon said to the minister : ' Here is the king's chaplain 
come, a great friend of Vararuchi's, so creep into this box ; ' and they 
bundled him into the trunk, just as he was, all naked, with the utmost 
precipitation ; and then they fastened it outside with a bolt. The 
priest too was brought inside into the dark room on the pretence of a 
bath, and was in the same way stripped of his garments and orna- 
ments, and made a fool of by the handmaids by being rubbed with 
lamp-black and oil, with nothing but the piece of rag on him, until 
in the third watch the chief magistrate arrived. The handmaids 
immediately terrified the priest with the news of his arrival, and 
pushed him into the trunk like his predecessor. After they had 
bolted him in, they brought in the magistrate on the pretext of giving 
him a bath, and so he, like his fellows, with the piece of rag for his 
only garment, was bamboozled by being continually anointed with 
lamp-black, until in the last watch of the night the merchant arrived. 
The handmaids made use of his arrival to alarm the magistrate, and 
bundled him also into the trunk, and fastened it on the outside. 

" So those three being shut up inside the box, as if they were 
bent on accustoming themselves to live in the hell of blind darkness, 
did not dare to speak on account of fear, though they touched one 
another. Then Upakosa brought a lamp into the room, and making 
the merchant enter it, said to him : ' Give me that money which my 
husband deposited with you.' When he heard that, the rascal, observ- 
ing that the room was empty, said : ' I told you that I would give 
you the money your husband deposited with me.' Upakosa, calling 
the attention of the people in the trunk, said : ' Hear, ye gods, 
this speech of Hiranyadatta.' When she had said this, she blew 
out the light ; and the merchant, like the others, on the pretext of a 
bath was anointed .by the handmaids for a long time with lamp-black. 
Then they told him to go, for the darkness was over, and at the close 
of the night they took him by the neck and pushed him out of the 
door sorely against his will. Then he made the best of his way home, 



ADDITIONAL ANALOGUES. 35 

with only the piece of rag to cover his nakedness, and smeared with 
the black dye, with the dogs biting him at every step, thoroughly 
ashamed of himself, and at last reached his own house ; and when he 
got there, he did not dare to look his slaves in the face while they 
were washing off that black dye. The path of vice is indeed a 
painful one. 

" In the early morning, Upakosa, accompanied by her handmaids, 
went, without informing her parents, to the palace of King Nanda, 
and there herself stated to the king that the merchant Hiranyadatta 
was endeavouring to deprive her of money deposited with him by 
her husband. The king, in order to inquire into the matter, im- 
mediately had the merchant summoned, who said : ' I have nothing 
in my keeping belonging to this lady.' Upakosa then said : ' I have 
witnesses, my lord. Before he went, my husband put the household 
gods into a box, and this merchant with his own lips admitted the 
deposit in their presence. Let the box be brought here, and ask the 
gods yourself.' Having heard this, the king in astonishment ordered 
the box to be brought. Thereupon in a moment that trunk was 
carried in by many men. Then Upakosa said : ' Relate truly, gods, 
what that merchant said, and then go to your houses : if you do not, 
I will burn you, or open the box in court.' Hearing that, the men 
in the box, beside themselves with fear, said : ' It is true, the 
merchant admitted the deposit in our presence.' Then the merchant, 
being utterly confounded, confessed all his guilt. But the king, 
being unable to restrain his curiosity, after asking permission of 
Upakosa, opened the chest there in court by breaking the fastening, 
and those three men were dragged out, looking like three lumps of 
solid darkness, and were with difficulty recognised by the king and 
his ministers. The whole assembly then burst out laughing, and the 
king in his curiosity asked Upakosa what was the meaning of this ; 
so the virtuous lady told the whole story. All present in court 
expressed their approbation of Upakosa's conduct, observing : ' The 
virtuous behaviour of Avomen of good family, who are protected by 
their own excellent disposition only, 1 is incredible.' Then all those 
coveters of their neighbour's wife were deprived of all their living 
and banished from the country. Who prospers by immorality? 
Upakosa was then dismissed by the king, who showed his great 
regard for her by a present of much wealth, and said to her : * Hence- 
forth thou art my sister ; ' and so she returned home." 

1 Instead of being confined in the zenana, or harem. Somadeva wrote before 
the Muhammadan conquest of India. 



36 'THE WRIGHT'S CHASTE WIFE": 

Such is the fine story of the virtuous Upakosa, according to 
Professor Tawney's translation, of which the Arabian version in the 
Seven Vazirs is a rather clumsy imitation. But before attempting a 
comparison of the several versions, there remain to be adduced those 
of the second subdivision (b) of the group in which there is no 
magical test of chastity, and to which belongs Lydgate's metrical tale 
of The Lady Prioress and her Three Wooers, an abstract of which is 
cited by Dr Furnivall in the original notes to our story. 

If Lydgate did not adapt his tale from Boccaccio (Decameron, 
Day IX., Nov. 1), both versions must have been derived from a 
common source. Boccaccio's story is to this effect : A widow lady in 
Pistoia had two lovers, one called Binuccio, the other Alexander, of 
whom neither was acceptable to her. At a time when she was 
harassed by their importunities, a person named Scannadio, of repro- 
bate life and hideous aspect, died and was buried. His death 
suggested to the lady a mode of getting rid of her lovers, by asking 
them to perform a service which she thought herself certain they 
would not undertake. She acquainted Alexander that the body of 
Scannadio, for a purpose she would afterwards explain, was to be 
brought to her dwelling, and that, as she felt a horror at receiving 
such an inmate, she offered him her love if he would attire himself 
in the dead garments of Scannadio, occupy his place in the coffin, 
and allow himself to be conveyed to her house in his stead. To 
Rinuccio she sentr to request that he would bring the corpse of 
Scannadio at midnight to her habitation. Both lovers, contrary to 
her expectation, agree to fulfil her desires. During the night she 
watches the event, and soon perceives Rinuccio coming along, bearing 
Alexander, who was equipped in the shroud of Scannadio. On the 
approach of some watchmen with a light, Rinuccio throws down his 
burden and runs off, while Alexander returns home in the dead man's 
clothes. Next day each demands the love of his mistress, which she 
refuses, pretending to believe that no attempt had been made to fulfil 
her commands (Durilop). ' Lydgate's story is a very great improve- 
ment on this of the illustrious Florentine : the Lady Prioress pretends 
the "corpse" had been arrested for debt; and the adventures of her 
three suitors are ingeniously conceived, and told with much humour. 

Under the title of 'The Wicked Lady of Antwerp and her 
Lovers,' Thorpe, in his Northern Mythology, gives a story which is 
cousin-german to those of Boccaccio and Lydgate : A rich woman in 
Antwerp led a very licentious life, and had four lovers, all of whom 
visited her in the evenings, but at different hours, so that no one 






ADDITIONAL ANALOGUES. 37 

knew anything of the others. The Long Wapper 1 one night assumed 
the form of this lady. At ten o'clock came the first lover, and Long 
Wapper said to him : " What dost thou desire 1 " " I desire you for 
a wife," said the spark. " Thou shalt have me," replied the Wapper, 
" if thou wilt go instantly to the churchyard of our Lady, and there 
sit for two hours on the transverse of the great cross." "Good," said 
he, " that shall be done," and he went and did accordingly. At half- 
past ten came the second. "What dost thou want]" asked the 
Long Wapper. " I wish to marry you," answered the suitor. "Thou 
shalt have me," replied the Wapper, "if thou wilt go previously to 
the churchyard of our Lady, there take a coffin, drag it to the foot of 
the great cross, and lay thyself in it till midnight." " Good," said 
the lover, " that shall be done at once," and he went and did so. 
About eleven o'clock came the third. Him the Long Wapper com- 
missioned to go to the coffin at the foot of the cross in our Lady's 
churchyard, to knock thrice on the lid, and to wait there till midnight. 
At half- past eleven came the fourth, and Wapper asked him what his 
wishes were. "To wed you," answered he. "Thou shalt do so," 
replied Wapper, " if thou wilt take the iron chain in the kitchen, 
and dragging it after thee, run three times round the cross in the 
churchyard of our Lady." " Good," said the spark, " that I will do." 
The first had set himself on the cross, but had fallen dead with 
fright to the earth on seeing the second place the coffin at his feet. 
The second died with fright when the third struck thrice on the 
coffin. The third fell down dead when the fourth came rattling his 
chain, and the fourth knew not what to think when he found his 
three rivals lying stiff and cold around the cross. With all speed he 
ran from the churchyard to the lady to tell her what had happened. 
But she, of course, knew nothing of the matter ; when, however, on 
the following day, she was informed of the miserable death of her 
lovers, she put an end to her own life. 

We have here a very curious and tragical version of the self-same 
story which the Monk of Bury or whosoever was the author has 
told so amusingly of the Lady Prioress and her Three Wooers. In 
the Far North, where our story is also current, magical arts are 
employed in punishment of importunate and objectionable suitors : 
In the latter part of the tale of ' The Mastermaid ' (Dasent's 
Popular Tales from the Norse), the heroine takes shelter in the hut 
of a crabbed old crone, who is killed by an accident, and the maid 

1 A Flemish sprite, whose knavish exploits resemble those of our English 
Robin Goodfellow. Thorpe. 



38 " THE WRIGHT'S CHASTE WIFE " : 

is thus left alone. A constable, passing by, and seeing a beautiful 
girl at the window, falls in love with her, and having brought a 
bushel of money, she consents to marry him ; but at night, just when 
they have got into bed, she says that she has forgot to make up the 
fire; this the doting bridegroom undertakes to do himself, but no 
sooner has he laid hold of the shovel, than she cries out : " May you 
hold the shovel, and the shovel hold you, and may you heap burning 
coals over yourself till morning breaks!" 'So there stood the 
constable all night, heaping coals of fire on his own head till day- 
break, when he was released from the spell, and ran home. In like 
manner, on the second night the damsel casts her spells over an 
attorney, who is made to hold the handle of the porch-door till 
morning ; and on the third night the sheriff is compelled to hold the 
calf's- tail, and the calf's-tail to hold him, till morning breaks, when 
he goes home in sorry plight. In an Icelandic version, the calf's-tail 
is the only device adopted by the young witch, but it proves equally 
efficacious for her purposes. 

These are all the versions of this world-wide story with which I 
am at present acquainted : some of them are taken from the appendix 
to my privately-printed Book of Siudibdd. Regarding the immediate 
source of Adam of Cobsam's diverting tale, I do not think that was 
the Gesta version, with which it corresponds only in outline ; both 
were doubtless adapted independently fiom some orally-current form 
of the story. If we assume that the Katlid Sarit Sdgara faithfully 
represents its prototype of the 6th century the Vrihat Katlid 
then for the elements of The Wright's Chaste Wife we must go to 
two different but cognate tales in that collection : for the garland as 
the test of chastity we have the lotus-flower in the story of Guhasena ; 
and the entrapping of the suitors we find in the story of Upakosa. 
Of the Eastern versions cited, the prototype of The Wright's Chaste 
Wife is the story of the soldier's wife in the Tuti Ndma a work, 
it is true, which does not date earlier than A.D. 1306, but it was 
derived from a much older Persian work of the same description, 
which again was based upon a Sanskrit story-book, of which the 
Suka Saptati (Seventy Tales of a Parrot) is the modern representa- 
tive. The two stories in the Vrihat Katlid or rather, portions of 
them seem thus to have been fused into one at an early date, and 
reached Europe in a form similar to the Gesta and Adam of Cobsam's 
versions. But the story of Upakosa also found its way to Europe 
separately, and not through the Arabian versions assuredly, since 
these are much later than the times of the Trouveres. Moreover, the 



ADDITIONAL ANALOGUES. 39 

fabliau has preserved incidents of the Indian story, which are omitted 
in the Arabian versions, with comparatively little modification, 
namely : that of the bath a common preliminary to farther intimacy 
in tales of gallantry ; the smearing of the naked suitors with lamp- 
black and oil they are ' feathered ' in the falliau ; and the dogs 
snapping the heels of the roguish merchant. That Boccaccio was 
not the inventor of his version seems evident, from the existence of 
analogous popular tales in Northern Europe. Be this as it may, 
Adam of Cobsam's story has furnished us with a curious illustration 
of Baring-Gould's remark : " How many brothers, sisters, uncles, 
aunts, and cousins of all degrees a little story has ! and how few of 
the tales we listen to can lay any claim to originality ! " 

GLASGOW, April 1886. 



NO. 84. 



R. CLAV AND SONS, CHAUCER PRESS, BUNOAY.