Wife of Bath, criminal justice & men’s subordination to women

Wife of Bath illustration from Ellesmere Chaucer

In the Wife of Bath’s Prologue within Geoffrey Chaucer’s fourteenth-century Canterbury Tales, Alisoun accused her husband Jankyn of murdering her. Actual murder victims never make such accusations. Alisoun concocted her accusation of murder to strike back at Jankyn and make him subordinate to her. In the subsequent Wife of Bath’s Tale, women court leaders suspended punishing a man for rape in order to promote men’s subordination to women. The Wife of Bath’s Prologue and Tale present criminal justice as a pretext for promoting men’s subordination to women.

Alisoun initiated domestic violence against her husband Jankyn. Living within gynocentric society, Jankyn found a measure of humor and enjoyment in reading literature of men’s sexed protest, including the venerable classics Theophrastus’s Golden Book on Marriage and Valerius’s letter to his friend Rufinus. Alisoun responded violently to Jankyn’s peaceful reading:

And when I saw he would never cease
Reading on this cursed book all night,
All suddenly have I plucked three leaves
Out of his book, right as he read, and also
I with my fist so hit him on the cheek
That in our fire he fell down backwards. [1]

Jankyn got back up and hit her back. She fell down and then claimed that he, a battered spouse, murdered her. When Jankyn came to kiss her and apologize, she struck him again. In medieval Europe, men were punished as perpetrators of domestic violence and as victims of domestic violence. Peace came to their household not through criminal justice, but by the husband making himself subordinate to his wife. Alisoun explained:

We made an agreement between our two selves.
He gave me all the control in my hand,
To have the governance of house and land,
And of his tongue, and of his hand also;
And made him burn his book immediately right then.
And when I had gotten unto me,
By mastery, all the sovereignty,
And that he said, ‘My own true wife,
Do as you please the rest of all thy life;
Guard thy honor, and guard also my reputation’ —
After that day we never had an argument. [2]

Alisoun’s sovereignty over Jankyn encompassed what he said, what he did, and even what he read. Political structures of oppression seldom reach that extent of personal domination.

In the Wife of Bath’s Tale, public and personal support for women’s domination of men allowed a knight to escape punishment under law for rape. While out hunting, the knight saw a maiden walking. While most men, like most male primates, don’t rape, this knight raped that maiden. Rape of women has been considered a serious crime throughout recorded history. The Wife of Bath reported that the knight was condemned to death for raping the maiden. However, the queen and other courtly ladies intervened. They were delegated authority to decide whether the knight would be executed.

The queen declared that the knight’s punishment would be remitted if he declared satisfactorily what women most desire. The queen gave the knight up to twelve months to declare publicly what women most desire. The knight desperately searched for the saving answer. What women want has always been a vigorous topic of public discussion in gynocentric society. The knight heard many different answers. He despaired of finding the saving one. Finally, an ugly woman offered to solve the riddle for the knight if he would do whatever she requested of him. The knight agreed. The ugly woman whispered the answer to him.

The knight successfully declared publicly what women want. The queen’s ad hoc court of justice publicly assembled:

Very many a noble wife, and many a maid,
And many a widow, because they are wise,
The queen herself sitting as a justice,
Are assembled, to hear his answer;
And afterward this knight was commanded to appear.
Silence was commanded to every person,
And that the knight should tell in open court
What thing that worldly women love best.

Before that court, the knight courageously declared to the queen:

“My liege lady, without exception,” he said,
“Women desire to have sovereignty
As well over her husband as her love,
And to be in mastery above him.
This is your greatest desire, though you kill me.
Do as you please; I am here subject to your will.”

The women sitting in judgment of him universally acclaimed the knight’s answer. In response to his public recognition of women’s interest in dominating men, the women exercised their dominance by freeing him from the death penalty for raping a woman.

The knight, however, was still beholden to the women who had provided the answer that saved him. She, the “loathly lady,” was low-born, ugly, old, and poor. She ordered the knight to marry her. The knight was horrified at that request. But he had given his word. Empathy and generosity can save women from oppressive terms of ill-considered agreements. Men are much less likely to benefit from such favor. The knight was forced to wed and sleep with the loathly lady. In short, under today’s understanding, he was raped.

Men’s lack of good life choices is sustained through men’s subordination to women and romantic fantasies. In despair at not having fulfilling alternatives for living his life, the knight repressed his desires, nullified his independent thinking, and surrendered his rational agency to his wife, the loathly lady:

“My lady and my love, and wife so dear,
I put me in your wise governance;
Choose yourself which may be most pleasure
And most honor to you and me also.

The loathly lady carefully confirmed her husband’s total subordination to her:

“Then have I gotten mastery of you,” she said,
“Since I may choose and govern as I please?”
“Yes, certainly, wife,” he said, “I consider it best.”

Then, in the fairytale of all fairytales, the wife turned into a beautiful young woman. Men today internalize this fairytale with the common saying, “happy wife, happy life.”[3]

The injustices of criminal justice are in part a problem of imagination. Few today can even imagine asking the question, “what do men most desire?” A satisfactory answer is not that men are dogs. Most men don’t desire sovereignty or mastery over others, be those others women or men. Most men surely desire not to be treated as criminally suspect persons, and to receive due process and equal justice under law. A good beginning to answering the question “what do men most desire?” is to recognize the highly disproportionate number of men prisoners and ask, “Why are so many more men than women imprisoned?”

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[1] Geoffrey Chaucer, The Wife of Bath’s Prologue and Tale, ll. 788-93, modernized English from Benson (2008). Subsequent quotes, unless otherwise noted, are from id., ll. 812-22, 1026-30, 1037-42, 1230-33, 1236-38.

[2] Mann (2002), p. ix, expresses concern that since 1992, “this reluctance to credit Chaucer with a ‘real sympathy’ with women has persisted and intensified.” Mann earnestly pondered whether Chaucer wrote “without incurring the charge of antifeminism.” Id. p. 25. For scholars today, the charge of antifeminism is as serious as the charge of murder, at least if the victim is a woman. Chaucer probably wrote for noble ladies. See note [14] and related text in my post on the Griseldas of Boccaccio, Petrarch, and Chaucer.

[3] McTaggert (2012) p. 61, n. 3, observes:

Suffice it to say that Chaucer scholarship remains undecided about whether the Wife’s text makes a case for feminism or not.

Such Chaucer scholarship should simply declare its worthlessness and shift to the more important task of appreciating Boccaccio’s Corbaccio.

[image] Wife of Bath illumination from the Ellesmere Chaucer, f. 72r (probably first or second decade of the fifteenth century). MS EL 26 C 9 in Huntington Library, San Marino, California.


Benson, Larry, trans. 2008. Geoffrey Chaucer. The Wife of Bath’s Prologue and Tale. The Geoffrey Chaucer Page, Harvard University.

Mann, Jill. 2002. Feminizing Chaucer. Woodbridge, Suffolk, UK: D.S. Brewer.

McTaggart, Anne. 2012. “What Women Want?: Mimesis and Gender in Chaucer’s Wife of Bath’s Prologue and Tale.” Contagion: Journal of Violence, Mimesis, and Culture. 19 (1): 41-67.

fathers as wallets: legal history of child support & custody

boy with bike

In U.S. law, fatherhood outside of marriage implies the obligation to make substantial, recurring payments to the mother (“child support”). These payments are based on the father’s income, not the child’s need. Unmarried fathers’ obligation to pay money to mothers hasn’t been associated with the father receiving any custody rights. In 1877, the Supreme Court of Minnesota in Olson v. Johnson made clear that unmarried fathers essentially have the legal status of wallets.

The story of Olson v. Johnson is shocking. In Minnesota in 1871, Olson was legally declared to be the father of a child for which Johnson had the natural status of mother. Under that legal determination, Olson was ordered to pay Johnson “for the support and maintenance of the child”:

certain sums, varying from $1 to $1.50 per week, to be paid semi-annually, and he was also adjudged to give a bond to the county commissioners of said county, in the sum of $800, conditioned for the faithful performance of the judgment. [1]

Olson fulfilled these legal obligations of fathers as wallets.

In 1875, Johnson married a man in Iowa. She immediately abandoned the child she had with Olson. Olson then petitioned the court for custody of the child, return of his bond, and termination of his weekly payments to Johnson. Olson offered to make a new bond securing his support of his child. The court refused all three of these requests. It declared that Olson had no interest in ensuring that his payments went to support his child. It declared that Olson, legally established as the child’s father, had no more legal right to custody of the child than had anyone else. These weren’t subtle aspects of the court’s judgment. In its brief opinion, the Supreme Court of Minnesota forthrightly declared:

The judgment in the bastardy proceedings, not having been appealed from, is conclusive. One effect of the judgment is to compel the plaintiff to pay to the mother a specified allowance for the support and maintenance of the child, to the custody of which she, as mother, is in law entitled.  If she neglects to support and maintain the child, this is no reason why the plaintiff should be relieved from the payment of the allowance, nor from the obligation of his bond; and as for any proposition to substitute something else in the place of the allowance and his bond, there is no authority whatever for entertaining it. … As respects such remedies, the plaintiff would not be the real party in interest. As father of the child he has, in law, no better title to its custody, and no more right to act for it, than any other person. [2]

This court’s judgment wasn’t aberrational. Child custody decisions in Britain and the U.S. have for centuries been justified on the basis of “the best interests of the child.” That abstract justification has enabled family law in action to be based on deeply entrenched gender stereotypes. A fundamental gender stereotype is that, compared to women, men are less important to children’s lives.

Family law is profoundly biased against men. A thinker who has extensively studied Massachusetts family courts has suggested, with detailed analysis, that men are better off not presenting their side to family court. That’s a travesty of justice. Marriage equality should extend to gender equality under family law. If that can’t be recognized as a matter of justice, it should at least be recognized as vital to men’s incentives and the long-run economic future of the U.S.

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[1] Tron Olson v. Mathea Johnson, Feb. 2, 1877, 23 Minn. 301, decided by the Supreme Court of Minnesota. The previous quote “for the support and maintenance of the child” is given in id. and apparently is from the district court’s judgment.

[2] Id. I’ve omitted the within-text citation “Tyler on Infancy, § 189.”

[image] Boy with bike in southern New Jersey in 1937. Photo courtesy of Elmer Galbi.

medieval Latin freedom of speech: cuius contrarium

A Nobel-Prize-winning British scientist was recently fired for making jesting comments that some misconstrued to be words disparaging women scientists. Even in more tolerant medieval Europe, merely printing in English words of Socrates disparaging women was a dangerous business. Medieval Latin offered relatively favorable freedom of speech. Men writing in Latin could protest against gynocentrism, cry out about injustices against men, and criticize women’s behaviors. Medieval Latin freedom of speech is poignantly represented in medieval macaronic texts that switch to Latin to express men’s sexed protests. Medieval Latin subverted dominant vernacular discourse about women with the declaration “of whom the opposite is true {cuius contrarium verum est}”:

Of all creatures women be best.
Cuius contrarium verum est.

Men be more cumbersome a thousandfold,
and I marvel how they dare be so bold,
against women for to hold,
seeing women so patient, soft, and slow to anger.
Cuius contrarium verum est.

For by women men be reconciled,
for by women was man never beguiled,
for women be of the condition of courteous Griselda
for they be so meek and mild.
Cuius contrarium verum est.

Now say well by women or else be still,
for they never displeased man by their will;
to be angry or wrathful they have no skill,
for I dare say they think no ill.
Cuius contrarium verum est.

{ Of all creatures women be best:
Cuius contrarium verum est.

Men be more cumbers a thowsandfold,
And I mervayll how they dare be so bold,
Agaynst women for to hold,
Seyng them so pascyent, softe and cold.
Cuius contrarium verum est.

For by women men be reconsiled,
For by women was never man begiled,
For they be of the condicion of curtes Gryzell
For they be so meke and mylde.
Cuius contrarium verum est.

Now say well by women or elles be still,
For they never displesed man by ther will;
To be angry or wroth they can no skill,
For I dare say they thynk non yll.
Cuius contrarium verum est. }[1]

Medieval macaronic texts used Latin to express men’s sexed protest in the context of the politically foundational story of the Trojan War. The first book printed in English was William Caxton’s Compendium of the Histories of Troy {Recuyell of the Hystoryes of Troye}, printed in Bruges in 1473. Caxton’s patron was Lady Margaret, who had far more power and privilege than almost all men. Caxton described obsequiously how she learned of the first part of his translation, and how she commissioned him to continue:

The right high, excellent, and right virtuous princess, my right redoubted Lady, my Lady Margaret, by the grace of God sister unto the King of England and of France, my sovereign lord, Duchess of Burgundy, of Lotryk, of Brabant, of Limburg, and of Luxembourg, Countess of Flanders, of Artois, and of Burgundy, Palatine of Hainault, of Holland, of Zealand and of Namur,  Marquesse of the Holy Empire, Lady of Frisia, of Salins and of Mechlin, sent for me to speak with her good Grace of various matters, among which I let her Highness have knowledge of the foresaid beginning of this work, which anon {she} commanded me to show the said five or six quires to her said Grace; and when she had seen them anon she found fault in my English, which she commanded me to amend, and moreover commanded me directly to continue and make an end of the remainder then not translated; whose dreadful commandment I dared in no way disobey, because I am a servant to her said Grace and receive of her a yearly fee and other many good and great benefits (and also hope many more to receive of her Highness) [2]

Greeks fought against the Trojans in the Trojan War. More personally, men killed other men for the sake of sexual access to women. Paris wanted Helen, who was married to Menelaus. Agamemnon gave up Chryseis, who was sleeping with him, and then sought Briseis, who was Achilles’s lover. And so on and so on, dead men and more dead men. Lady Margaret’s support for Caxton’s work on the Trojan War suggests that she, like eminent women writers of the Middle Ages, had loving concern for men.[3]

Helen and Paris: story of Trojan War

Caxton’s version of the Trojan War is relatively sympathetic to Helen. Helen in Caxton’s version is not merely the most beautiful woman in Greece, but the most beautiful woman in the world. Moreover, she is depicted as curious. That indicates intellectual agency. Caxton’s version doesn’t presume that Priam raped Helen. It depicts Helen as having strong, independent sexuality. In Caxton’s version, Priam returns Helen to the Greeks. The Greeks planned to burn Helen at the stake. However, Ulysses intervened with eloquent words and saved her.[4] Homer was a preeminent teacher of ethics in Greco-Roman culture. Odysseus / Ulysses was one of Homer’s great heroes. Caxton’s version of the Trojan War, at least in its main text, instructed men to act like Ulysses in defending Helen against punishment for her part in the destructive Trojan War.[5]

Caxton’s version, however, condemned the destruction of war with explicit references to men’s deaths. Caxton recognized that different accounts existed of the Trojan War. Caxton pointed to concern for men’s deaths in summarizing the common theme of the different accounts:

all accord in conclusion with the general destruction of that noble city of Troy, and the death of so many noble princes, and likewise kings, dukes, earls, barons, knights, and common people, and the ruin irreparable of that city that never since was re-built; which may be an example to all men during the world how dreadful and dangerous it is to begin a war and what harms, losses, and death follow. [6]

Expressing concern for men’s deaths, or even just concern for violence against men, is unusual. But the expected response is apathy.

Criticizing women is much more dangerous than attempting to draw attention to men’s deaths. Caxton concluded his work on the Trojan War with an epilogue castigating Helen for inciting men to kill other men. Caxton apparently realized that openly criticizing women could get him killed, if not literally, then at least symbolically and economically. Like a willful child facing a threatening mother, Caxton made a rebellious gesture behind his back. Caxton printed in Latin the epilogue castigating Helen for inciting men to kill other men. Many readers of his book, written nearly exclusively in English, surely didn’t understand Latin. Caxton was thus less subject to attack for the contents of his epilogue.

In the hope of contributing to a renaissance of medieval Latin freedom of speech, here is Caxton’s Latin epilogue, with an English translation:

I want to weep for Troy, which fell to the Greeks only by the will of fate
that was captured only by deceit and to the ground razed.
A destructive harlot was the cause of such an evil —
a female lethal {Helen}, a woman full of evil.
Even if you {Helen} are washed, if your whole life is good
you still will not be unknown nor without mark of disgrace.
Only just bent to Paris’s will, only just, and Theseus’s long ago,
would you agree to avoid a relapse into the same vice anew?
The tale of old shall cause the future to be feared:
the same inequities of yesterday can befall the world tomorrow.
Why do you escape from the stage, you who hand over all others to death?
Why don’t you, gathering of destruction, fall in ruin?
This woman who deserves death, is loved anew with the love of before
and returned to the victor and the delights of the couch.

{ Pergama flere volo, fata danais data solo
Solo capta dolo, capta redacta solo
Causa mali talis, meretrix fuit exicialis
Femina letalis, femina plena malis
Si fueris lota, si vita sequens bona tota
Si eris ignota, non eris abs[que] nota
Passa prius paridem, [per]idis modo thesia pridem
Es facture fidem, ne redeas in idem
Rumor de veteri, faciet ventura timeri
Cras poterunt fieri, turpia sicut heri
Scena quid euadis, morti qui cetera tradis
Cur tu non cladis, concia clade cadis
Femina digna mori, reamatur amore priori
Reddita victori, deliciis[que] thori. }[7]

Medieval Latin literature encompasses much more than just scholastics pondering the nature of angels and clerics issuing church-bureaucratic documents. Medieval Latin literature includes a wide range of subjects, diverse viewpoints, and many different styles of writing. Marcolf’s earthy, subversive confrontation with King Solomon was written in medieval Latin, as were accounts of the outrageous life of Aesop. Northern France produced medieval Latin poetry (Moriuht, Jezebel, and Semiramis) that had all the obscene sophistication of classical Arabic verse. Medieval Latin freedom of speech can help to expand freedom of speech today.

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[1] From fifteenth-century English lyric printed in Salisbury (2002), Select Secular Lyrics of the Fourteenth and Fifteenth Centuries. I’ve modernized the English for greater accessibility. Id. mistitles the poem Abuse of Women. The poem would be more appropriately titled Repression of Men’s Sexed Protest. For a tendentious interpretation of the poem in support of current dominant ideology, Kazik (2011).

A less learned strategy is dodging and weaving. For example, the twelfth-century French poem Evangile aux femmes consists of four-line stanzas. The first three lines of the stanzas praise women, while the fourth line subverts the previous three. For brief discussion, Fiero, Pfeffer & Allain (1989) p. 23.

[2] William Caxton’s preface to Compendium of the Histories of Troy {Recuyell of the Hystoryes of Troye}, from Eliot (1910) pp. 6-7. I’ve modernized the English. Recuyell of the Hystoryes of Troye is Caxton’s translation into English of Raoul Lefèvre’s French text Recoeil des histoires de Troyes, written in 1464. In addition to printing his English translation, Caxton also printed Lefèvre’s French text.

[3] Virgil’s Aeneid describes how the Trojan warrior Aeneas fled from Troy when the Greeks overran it. In Virgil’s epic myth, Aeneas traveled westward and eventually founded what become the Roman Empire. Medieval rulers in England, Burgundy, and France claimed direct descent from Trojan heroes. In 1477, Margaret’s husband Charles I died in battle against France and the Burgundian kingdom collapsed. Coldiron (2014) pp. 40-2, 46. Margaret was probably well aware of the violence that her husband faced. She may also have courageously opposed devaluation of men’s lives.

[4] Characteristics of Helen in Caxton’s Recuyell of the Hystoryes of Troye:

  1. Helen is the most beautiful woman in world, while Polyxena is the most beautiful woman in Troy. This claim also occurs in the John Lydgate’s early fifteenth century Troy Book (medieval poem The Siege of Troy) and the Laud Troy Book from the early fifteenth century. Maguire (2009) p. 40; p. 218, n. 54.
  2. Helen “after the custom of women … had great desire to know by experience.” Id. p. 223, n. 12 (quotation is from Caxton’s version).
  3. Helen makes “a token or sign to Paris that he approached to her.” Paris within the text isn’t described as raping Helen. Id. p. 128 (quotation from Caxton’s version). Raoul Lefèvre’s prologue, however, declares that his third book treats the “general destruction of Troy by the Greeks because of the ravishing of Dame Helen, wife of Menelaus” (closely modernized English translation). Sommer (1894) p. 7. Ravishing could mean rape. Caxton makes no mention of Helen in his incipit / prologue. Cf. Coldiron (2014) p. 57, n. 29.
  4. Priam returns Helen, Greeks plan to burn her at the stake, but Ulysses successfully intervenes. Maguire (2009) pp. 128-9.

[5] Late in the fifteenth century, Margery Wellysborn signed her name to the flyleaf of the copy of Recuyell of the Historyes of Troye now in the Royal College of Physicians, London. In addition, she wrote “most special in my mind without any” (modernized English). See Wang (2004) pp. 187-8.

[6] Caxton’s epilogue to Book 3, Recuyell of the Hystoryes of Troye, modernized English. Coldiron (2015) p. 58, detects in Caxton’s paratexts and his Recuyell of the Hystoryes of Troye “the problematic connection between women and warfare.”

[7] From Coldiron (2015) p. 56, n. 27. The Latin text is also available in Sommer (1894) p. 703. The text is a cento made from Carmina Burana 101, “Hecuba’s Tears,” from Latin trans. Marshall (2014) pp. 143-5. Here’s the Latin text of Carmina Burana 101. I’ve modified Marshall’s translation to account for textual differences and my sense of a better translation.

The penultimate couplet of Caxton’s epilogue differs significantly from Carmina Burana 101. Caxton’s penultimate couplet is:

Scena quid evadis, morti qui cetera tradis
Cur tu non cladis, concia clade cadis

The corresponding couplet from Carmina Burana 101 is:

Seva, quid evadis? non tradita cetera tradis!
Cur rea tu cladis non quoque clade cadis?

{ O hellcat, why go you free? Unbetrayed, you betray all the rest!
Why do you, the culprit of the fall, fall not also dead? }

Trans. Marshall (2014) p. 143. In Caxton’s couplet, the word concia is difficult. It doesn’t occur in major medieval Latin dictionaries. The word concio, apparently a variant of contio, is attested with the meaning of a gathering of monks. Concio evidently draws upon the verb form conciō. My translation of concia as “gathering” (in reference to the female Helen) is conjectural-contextual. I’m grateful to David Konstan for advice on translation. All errors in translation, and errors and outrages in this post generally, are my own responsibility.

A version of Carmina Burana 101 exists as a scribal addition following Historia Troianorum and preceding Geoffrey of Monmouth’s Historia Regum Britanniae in Bibliotheque Municipale (Douai, France) MS. 880. The scribe declares his name as Bernardus. See Hammer (1931). Id., p. 121-2 describes the poem as “mis-inspired” and adds:

The poor taste of these lines does not call for any comment, and, if a modern parallel is in place, the term ‘doggerel’ will best characterize Bernardus’ poetical accomplishment.

That’s merely narrow-mindedness. Showing further development of intellectual parochialism and anti-men bias, Coldiron (2014), pp. 53-4, misandristically declares the poem misogynistic. Another scholar observes of the poem:

It looks as if it was a floating school-poem, anonymous but of great popularity, on which more than one poet exercised his ingenuity by way of expansion or imitation.

Sedgwich (1933) p. 82. That’s reasonably interpreted as considerable poetic success. Academics today should celebrate this poem for its trangressiveness and as an example of medieval Latin freedom of speech.

[image] Helen and Paris traveling from Macedonia to Troy.  Hand-painted woodcut from Heinrich Steinhöwel’s German translation of Giovanni Boccaccio’s De mulieribus claris. Woodcut in book printed by Johannes Zainer at Ulm ca. 1474. Thanks to Wikimedia Commons.


Coldiron, Anne E. B. 2015. Printers without borders: translation and textuality in the Renaissance. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Eliot, Charles W., ed. 1910. Prefaces and prologues to famous books, with introductions, notes and illustrations. The Five-Foot Shelf of Books, “The Harvard Classics.” Vol. 39. New York: P.F. Collier & Son.

Fiero, Gloria, Wendy Pfeffer, and Mathé Allain. 1989. Three medieval views of women: La contenance des fames, Le bien des fames, Le blasme des fames. New Haven, Conn: Yale University Press.

Hammer, Jacob. 1931. “Some Leonine Summaries of Geoffrey of Monmouth’s Historia Regum Britanniae and Other Poems.” Speculum 6 (1): 114-123.

Joanna Kazik. 2011. “‘Of all creatures women be best, / Cuius contrarium verum est’: Gendered Power in Selected Late Medieval and Early Modern Texts.” Text Matters – A Journal of Literature, Theory and Culture. 1 (1): 76-91.

Maguire, Laurie E. 2009. Helen of Troy: from Homer to Hollywood. Chichester, U.K.: Wiley-Blackwell.

Marshall, Tariq. 2014. The Carmina Burana: Songs from Benediktbeuren: a full and faithfull translation with critical annotations. 3rd edition. Los Angeles: Marshall Memorial Press.

Salisbury, Eve. 2002. The trials and joys of marriage. Kalamazoo, Mich: Published for TEAMS in association with the University of Rochester by Medieval Institute Publications, Western Michigan University.

Sedgwick, W. B. 1933. “‘Pergama Flere Volo.'” Speculum 8 (1): 81-82.

Sommer, H. Oskar, ed. 1894. William Caxton and Raoul Lefèvre. The recuyell of the historyes of Troy (vol. 1, vol. 2). London: D. Nutt. Alternate: Facsimile of Wynkyn de Worde’s edition of 1503.

Wang, Yu-Chiao. 2004. “Caxton’s Romances and Their Early Tudor Readers.” Huntington Library Quarterly. 67 (2): 173-188.