# A Satyr Against Hypocrites/The Wanton Wife of Bath

This is a hand-written copy of the anonymous ballad The Wanton Wife of Bath. It says 'by Paul Moore, Esq.' although this is presumably a reference to the person who wrote it out, as the work had appeared in print in 1600.
The Wanton Wife of Bath
by Paul Moore Esq$^r$.
In Bath a wanton Wife did dwell, As Chaucer he doth write; Who did in pleasure spend her days, In many a fond delight
Upon a time sore sick she was, And at the length did die; Her soul at last at Heavn's Gate, Did knock most mightily.
Then Adam came unto the Gate, Who knocketh there? quoth he; I am the Wife of Bath, she said, And fain would come to thee.
Thou art a sinner, Adam said, And here no place shall have, Alas for you good Sir, she said, Now giss you doting Knave.
I will come in, in spight she said, Of all such Churls as thee; Thou wert the causer of our Woe, Our pain and misery.
And first broke God's commandments, In pleasure of thy Wife: When Adam heard her tell this tale, He run away for life.
Then down came Jacob at the Gate, And bids her pack to Hell, Thou false deceiver, why, said she, Thou may'st be there as well.
For thou deceiv'd'st thy Father dear, And thine own Brother too. Away went Jacob presently, And made no more ado.
She knocks again with might and main, And Lot he chides her straight: Why then, quoth she, thou drunken ass, Who bid thee here to wait.
With thy two Daughters thou didst lye, On them two Bastards got; And thus most tauntingly she chast Against poor silly Lot.
Who calleth there quoth Judith then With such shrill sounding notes? This fine minks surely cannot hear. Quoth she, for cutting throats.
Good Lord, how Judith blush'd for shame When she heard here say so; King David hearing at the same,
He to the Gate did go.
Quoth David, who knocks there so loud, And maketh all this strife? You were more kinnd, good Sir, she said, Unto Uriah's Wife.
And when thou caused'st thy servant In battle to be slain, Thou caused'st them more strife than I, Who would come here so fain.
The Woman's mad, quoth Soloman, That thus doth taunt a King. Not half so mad as you, she said, I know in many a thing.
Thou haddest Seven Hundred Wives, For whom thou did'st provide, Yet for all this, three hundred Whores, Thou did'st maintain beside.
And those made thee forsake thy God, And worship stocks and stones; Besides the charge they put thee too In breeding of young bones.
Had'st thou not been besides thy Wits, Thou would'st not thus have ventur'd; And therefore I do marvel much How thou this place hast enter'd.
I never heard, quoth Jonas then, So vile a scold as this, Thou Whore-son, runaway, quoth she Thou diddest more amiss.
I think, quoth Thomas, Womens Tongues Of aspen leaves are made Thou unbelieving Wretch, quoth she, All is not true that's said.
When Mary Magdalen heard her then, She came unto the Gate; Quoth she, good Woman, you must think Upon your former state.
No Sinner enters in this Place, Quoth Mary Magdalene then 'Twere ill for you, fair mistress mild She answered her again.
You for your honesty, quoth she, Should once been stoned to Death, Had not our Saviour Christ come by, And written on the Earth.
It was not your occupation, You are become divine, I hope my Soul in Christ's passion, Shall be as safe as thine.
Then rose the good apostle Paul, Unto this Wife he cry'd. Except thou shake thy Sins away, Thou here shalt be deny'd.
Remember Paul, what thou hast done, All thro' a lewd Desire, How thou did'st persecute God's Church, With wrath as hot as fire.
Then up starts Peter at the last, And to the Gate he hies, Fond fool, quoth he, knock not so fast, Thou weariest Christ with cries.
Peter, said she, content thyself, For Mercy may be won; I never did deny my Christ, As thou thyself hast done.
When as our Saviour Christ heard this, With Heavenly Angels bright, He comes unto this sinful Soul, Who trembled at his sight.
Of him for Mercy she did crave, Quoth he, thou hast refus'd My proffer'd Grace, and Mercy both, And much my name abus'd.
Sore have I sinned, O Lord, she said, And spent my time in vain, But bring me like a wand'ring sheep Into thy Flock again.
O Lord my God, I will amend My former wicked Vice, The theif at these poor silly words, Past into Paradise.
My Laws and my Commandments, Saith Christ were known to thee, But of the same, in anywise, Nor yet one word did ye.
I grant the same, O Lord, quoth she; Most lewdly did I live, But yet the loving Father did His prodigal son forgive.
So I forgive thy soul, he said, Through thy repenting Cry, Come you therefore into my Joy, I will not thee deny.