Wyf of Bathe Translation from Old English

My fourthe housbonde was a revelour,This is to seyn, he hadde a paramour;And I was yong and ful of ragerye,Stiborn and strong, and Ioly as a pye.Wel coude I daunce to an harpe smale,And singe, y-wis, as any nightingale,Whan I had dronke a draughte of swete wyn.Metellius, the foule cherl, the swyn,That with a staf birafte his wyf hir lyf,For she drank wyn, thogh I hadde been his wyf,He sholde nat han daunted me fro drinke;And, after wyn, on Venus moste I thinke:For al so siker as cold engendreth hayl,A likerous mouth moste han a likerous tayl.In womman vinolent is no defence,This knowen lechours by experience. | “My fourth husband was a partier and a philanderer, and I was young and carefree and very headstrong. Give me a little wine, and I’d sing and dance all night long. You remember that old story about the ancient man named Metellius who beat his wife to death because she drank too much wine? Well, he sure wouldn’t have stopped me from drinking! I always get horny when I’m drunk because sex and alcohol usually go hand-in-hand. And as any womanizer can tell you, women have a hard time fending off men’s advances when they’re drunk. |

Original Text | Modern Text | But, lord Crist! whan that it remembreth meUpon my yowthe, and on my Iolitee,It tikleth me aboute myn herte rote.Unto this day it dooth myn herte boteThat I have had my world as in my tyme.But age, allas! that al wol envenyme,Hath me biraft my beautee and my pith;Lat go, fare-wel, the devel go therwith!The flour is goon, ther is na-more to telle,The bren, as I best can, now moste I selle;But yet to be right mery wol I fonde.Now wol I tellen of my fourthe housbonde. | “Oh Lord in heaven! Remembering all those fun times I had when I was young tickles me to my core. It makes me glad knowing that I had those experiences in my youth. Too bad age has stolen my beauty and youthful energy. Oh well. I don’t need them anyway! I’m not young any more, and that’s just all there is to it. Now I just need to make