No Fear Literature: The Canterbury Tales: The Wife of Bath's Tale Prologue to the Wife of Bath’s Tale Page 3

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Original Text	Modern Text
But this word is nat take of every wight, But ther as God list give it of his might. I woot wel, that thapostel was a mayde; But natheless, thogh that he wroot and sayde, He wolde that every wight were swich as he, Al nis but conseil to virginitee; And for to been a wyf, he yaf me leve Of indulgence; so it is no repreve To wedde me, if that my make dye, With-oute excepcioun of bigamye. Al were it good no womman for to touche, He mente as in his bed or in his couche; For peril is bothe fyr and tow tassemble; Ye knowe what this ensample may resemble. This is al and som, he heeld virginitee More parfit than wedding in freletee. Freeltee clepe I, but-if that he and she Wolde leden al hir lyf in chastitee.	But this word is nat take of every wight, But ther as God list give it of his might. I woot wel, that thapostel was a mayde; But natheless, thogh that he wroot and sayde, He wolde that every wight were swich as he, Al nis but conseil to virginitee; And for to been a wyf, he yaf me leve Of indulgence; so it is no repreve To wedde me, if that my make dye, With-oute excepcioun of bigamye. Al were it good no womman for to touche, He mente as in his bed or in his couche; For peril is bothe fyr and tow tassemble; Ye knowe what this ensample may resemble. This is al and som, he heeld virginitee More parfit than wedding in freletee. Freeltee clepe I, but-if that he and she Wolde leden al hir lyf in chastitee.
I graunte it wel, I have noon envye, Thogh maydenhede preferre bigamye; Hem lyketh to be clene, body and goost, Of myn estaat I nil nat make no boost. For wel ye knowe, a lord in his houshold, He hath nat every vessel al of gold; Somme been of tree, and doon hir lord servyse. God clepeth folk to him in sondry wyse, And everich hath of God a propre yifte, Som this, som that,—as him lyketh shifte.	I graunte it wel, I have noon envye, Thogh maydenhede preferre bigamye; Hem lyketh to be clene, body and goost, Of myn estaat I nil nat make no boost. For wel ye knowe, a lord in his houshold, He hath nat every vessel al of gold; Somme been of tree, and doon hir lord servyse. God clepeth folk to him in sondry wyse, And everich hath of God a propre yifte, Som this, som that,—as him lyketh shifte.

Original Text	Modern Text
But this word is nat take of every wight, But ther as God list give it of his might. I woot wel, that thapostel was a mayde; But natheless, thogh that he wroot and sayde, He wolde that every wight were swich as he, Al nis but conseil to virginitee; And for to been a wyf, he yaf me leve Of indulgence; so it is no repreve To wedde me, if that my make dye, With-oute excepcioun of bigamye. Al were it good no womman for to touche, He mente as in his bed or in his couche; For peril is bothe fyr and tow tassemble; Ye knowe what this ensample may resemble. This is al and som, he heeld virginitee More parfit than wedding in freletee. Freeltee clepe I, but-if that he and she Wolde leden al hir lyf in chastitee.	But this word is nat take of every wight, But ther as God list give it of his might. I woot wel, that thapostel was a mayde; But natheless, thogh that he wroot and sayde, He wolde that every wight were swich as he, Al nis but conseil to virginitee; And for to been a wyf, he yaf me leve Of indulgence; so it is no repreve To wedde me, if that my make dye, With-oute excepcioun of bigamye. Al were it good no womman for to touche, He mente as in his bed or in his couche; For peril is bothe fyr and tow tassemble; Ye knowe what this ensample may resemble. This is al and som, he heeld virginitee More parfit than wedding in freletee. Freeltee clepe I, but-if that he and she Wolde leden al hir lyf in chastitee.
I graunte it wel, I have noon envye, Thogh maydenhede preferre bigamye; Hem lyketh to be clene, body and goost, Of myn estaat I nil nat make no boost. For wel ye knowe, a lord in his houshold, He hath nat every vessel al of gold; Somme been of tree, and doon hir lord servyse. God clepeth folk to him in sondry wyse, And everich hath of God a propre yifte, Som this, som that,—as him lyketh shifte.	I graunte it wel, I have noon envye, Thogh maydenhede preferre bigamye; Hem lyketh to be clene, body and goost, Of myn estaat I nil nat make no boost. For wel ye knowe, a lord in his houshold, He hath nat every vessel al of gold; Somme been of tree, and doon hir lord servyse. God clepeth folk to him in sondry wyse, And everich hath of God a propre yifte, Som this, som that,—as him lyketh shifte.