The Pardoner went white with rage, and could not answer a word; but
the Host went on, "I'll have no more dealings with you, nor with any
angry man." We all burst out laughing, for it was obvious that the
Pardoner was furious with himself for forgetting that he had exposed
himself before telling his tale, and so had lost the chance of
reaping money from us for his false relics.

The gentle Knight interposed. "Sir Pardoner," he said, "no more of
this. You were fairly answered. And you, Sir Host, my dear friend, I
pray you kiss the Pardoner, and, Pardoner, kiss him in your turn, and
let us laugh and go gaily on as we did before." So they two kissed
and were friends again, and we went on our way.

The Wife of Bath had been talking to the Monk in an undertone. Seeing
her opportunity in the pause following the Host's and Pardoner's
quarrel, she addressed the company at large.

"Even if there was no authority to back me, my own experience, I can
tell you, would give me the right to speak of the trials of marriage.
Why, since I was twelve I have had five wedded husbands, and now I am
a widow again I am quite ready to welcome the sixth. God meant me to
marry and I shall do my duty; but I shall always rule my husband."

Here the Pardoner broke in. "I was thinking of taking a wife myself,"
he said, "but if the wife is to be master I must think more of the
matter." "Oh! there is worse to come," she returned. "There is a
bitterer draught ere you get to the bottom of this cup." "Well, tell
us your story all the same," he answered, "and spare no man!" "Why,
so I will," she said, "but let no man be offended. I speak in jest,
you know, though the jest may be rather sharp. Well, as I was saying,