No Fear Literature: The Canterbury Tales: The Wife of Bath's Tale The Wife of Bath’s Tale Page 5

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Original Text	Modern Text
This knight, of which my tale is specially, Whan that he saugh he mighte nat come therby, This is to seye, what wommen loven moost, With-inne his brest ful sorweful was the goost; But hoom he gooth, he mighte nat soiourne. The day was come, that hoomward moste he tourne, And in his wey it happed him to ryde, In al this care, under a forest-syde, Wher-as he saugh upon a daunce go Of ladies foure and twenty, and yet mo; Toward the whiche daunce he drow ful yerne, In hope that som wisdom sholde he lerne. But certeinly, er he came fully there, Vanisshed was this daunce, he niste where. No creature saugh he that bar lyf, Save on the grene he saugh sittinge a wyf; A fouler wight ther may no man devyse. Agayn the knight this olde wyf gan ryse, And seyde, ‘sir knight, heer-forth ne lyth no wey. Tel me, what that ye seken, by your fey? Paraventure it may the bettre be; Thise olde folk can muchel thing,’ quod she.	This knight, of which my tale is specially, Whan that he saugh he mighte nat come therby, This is to seye, what wommen loven moost, With-inne his brest ful sorweful was the goost; But hoom he gooth, he mighte nat soiourne. The day was come, that hoomward moste he tourne, And in his wey it happed him to ryde, In al this care, under a forest-syde, Wher-as he saugh upon a daunce go Of ladies foure and twenty, and yet mo; Toward the whiche daunce he drow ful yerne, In hope that som wisdom sholde he lerne. But certeinly, er he came fully there, Vanisshed was this daunce, he niste where. No creature saugh he that bar lyf, Save on the grene he saugh sittinge a wyf; A fouler wight ther may no man devyse. Agayn the knight this olde wyf gan ryse, And seyde, ‘sir knight, heer-forth ne lyth no wey. Tel me, what that ye seken, by your fey? Paraventure it may the bettre be; Thise olde folk can muchel thing,’ quod she.
‘My leve mooder,’ quod this knight certeyn, ‘I nam but deed, but-if that I can seyn What thing it is that wommen most desyre; Coude ye me wisse, I wolde wel quyte your hyre.’	‘My leve mooder,’ quod this knight certeyn, ‘I nam but deed, but-if that I can seyn What thing it is that wommen most desyre; Coude ye me wisse, I wolde wel quyte your hyre.’

Original Text	Modern Text
This knight, of which my tale is specially, Whan that he saugh he mighte nat come therby, This is to seye, what wommen loven moost, With-inne his brest ful sorweful was the goost; But hoom he gooth, he mighte nat soiourne. The day was come, that hoomward moste he tourne, And in his wey it happed him to ryde, In al this care, under a forest-syde, Wher-as he saugh upon a daunce go Of ladies foure and twenty, and yet mo; Toward the whiche daunce he drow ful yerne, In hope that som wisdom sholde he lerne. But certeinly, er he came fully there, Vanisshed was this daunce, he niste where. No creature saugh he that bar lyf, Save on the grene he saugh sittinge a wyf; A fouler wight ther may no man devyse. Agayn the knight this olde wyf gan ryse, And seyde, ‘sir knight, heer-forth ne lyth no wey. Tel me, what that ye seken, by your fey? Paraventure it may the bettre be; Thise olde folk can muchel thing,’ quod she.	This knight, of which my tale is specially, Whan that he saugh he mighte nat come therby, This is to seye, what wommen loven moost, With-inne his brest ful sorweful was the goost; But hoom he gooth, he mighte nat soiourne. The day was come, that hoomward moste he tourne, And in his wey it happed him to ryde, In al this care, under a forest-syde, Wher-as he saugh upon a daunce go Of ladies foure and twenty, and yet mo; Toward the whiche daunce he drow ful yerne, In hope that som wisdom sholde he lerne. But certeinly, er he came fully there, Vanisshed was this daunce, he niste where. No creature saugh he that bar lyf, Save on the grene he saugh sittinge a wyf; A fouler wight ther may no man devyse. Agayn the knight this olde wyf gan ryse, And seyde, ‘sir knight, heer-forth ne lyth no wey. Tel me, what that ye seken, by your fey? Paraventure it may the bettre be; Thise olde folk can muchel thing,’ quod she.
‘My leve mooder,’ quod this knight certeyn, ‘I nam but deed, but-if that I can seyn What thing it is that wommen most desyre; Coude ye me wisse, I wolde wel quyte your hyre.’	‘My leve mooder,’ quod this knight certeyn, ‘I nam but deed, but-if that I can seyn What thing it is that wommen most desyre; Coude ye me wisse, I wolde wel quyte your hyre.’