What makes a good wife?

Imagine my disappointment, then, when I found out the invitation was to the latest production from Bell Shakespeare, opening in Canberra on September 26. (And to clarify, disappointed only because the concept of a school for wives is one that appealed to me greatly, Bell Shakespeare performances are never anything but superb.)

No one teaches you how to be a wife. Or indeed gives you any instruction on what men are looking for in one.

According to Arnolde, the protagonist of Moliere's play, all a wife really needs to know is ''how to pray, how to love, how to knit and how to sew''.

He's had his ward, the lovely Agnes, tucked away in a convent since she was four. Now she's 18 he fully intends to marry her (and we won't go into the moral implications of it all, an unsettling situation that even stirred things up in 1662 when it was first performed). He's worried that an intelligent woman would cheat on him, so he keeps Agnes as innocent and naive as he can until she's of a marrying age.

In women, as in everything, I make the choice alone.

I am rich enough, I believe, to choose this humble bride;

She owns nothing but what I give her, she has no sense of pride,

She submits to complete dependence, having neither money nor rank,

So for the fact she'll live comfortably, she has entirely me to thank.

Is that what men want?

According to Sydney's Anglican Church perhaps they do. The Church has suggested a new wedding vow that asks the bride if she will ''honour and submit'' to her husband, as ''the church submits to Christ''.

The Archbishop of Sydney, Peter Jensen, apparently one of the world's most conservative Anglican bishops, defended the new vow.

''In the last three or four decades a certain egalitarianism has crept into society and the way people think and I understand that's the reigning philosophy,'' he told ABC television.

''I just happen to think it's wrong, unhelpful, and in the end we will find it's better to recognise that men and women are different, that we have at certain points different responsibilities and men will be better men if we acknowledge that.''

I'll admit I'm sometimes intrigued by this concept, of submissive, surrendered, Stepford wives. There are times when I could think of nothing nicer than ''complete dependence'', where I'm stripped of any responsibility and all I have to do is follow instruction. Hand over the pin money and dinner's on the table.

As Arnolde puts it:

You see, marriage, Agnes, is not a game; a wife has serious duties.

I haven't bred you for some women's club, to cavort with other beauties.

No, women were made for dependence; and men, for omnipotence.

Males have supreme qualities, which in females, have no equivalents.

A husband governs, a wife submits, like a soldier to his superior,

And just as a valet to his master is deferential and inferior,

Or as a novice in a monastery, who blindly submits to his abbot,

Thus a wife's docility should become a natural habit.

Women today don't understand this; don't let them lead you astray.

Don't imitate those mischievous whores that we hear about every day.

And don't be duped by the crafty male, or drawn into conversation:

Remember that you are a part of me, and therefore, of my reputation -

And a reputation is a fragile thing, which can easily be destroyed;

So any attempt to make light of it is something a wife must avoid.

But it's not how we function in modern day life, is it? Yes, Archbishop Jensen, men and women are different, but equal and both quite capable of living together as adults in an equal relationship.

But that brings us back to what's expected. There is more to it than prayers, love and some handicrafts. Love is the big thing. But when dealing with the little things it can blur the detail.

Perhaps love encompasses it all, but a good wife should be kind and considerate, caring and never mean. She should have an opinion, one that is valued, but one she's willing to keep to herself sometimes. A good wife should be patient and tolerant, and happy enough, on occasions, not to get her own way.

Sometimes I am none of these things. If there were a school for wives I would fail miserably I am sure.

But, now that I think of it, I have had some instruction on how to be a good wife.

Almost 17 years ago I undertook a pre-marriage course through the Catholic Church. They're still running, covering such topics as ''the nature of commitment'', ''expectations of marriage'', ''intimate communication'' and ''managing conflict''. I must not have been paying too much attention, been too busy thinking about my dress, the cake, the venue of my wedding day (and if you know me at all you know that's not the case).

I remember we had to draw where we thought we would be in five, 10 years' time. I remember watching a video about ''sexuality'', which talked about mercury levels and asexual fish. I remember wondering how the marriage of the poor girl who was there on her own every week was going to survive. I think, now, I was probably just thinking ''we love each other, we'll manage'' and we have. For love is not something that can be planned, as Arnolde finds out. His plan to marry Agnes goes spectacularly wrong when young Horace declares his love for her:

From the moment I saw this woman, I went off like a rocket!

And Agnes too on Horace:

Suddenly his eyes meet mine; I go all funny at the knees.

Perhaps all a wife needs to know is how to love, and all she needs is to be loved. And if she can knit and sew that's a bonus.

Bell Shakespeare's The School for Wives starts at the Playhouse on September 26. Tickets from $33. canberratheatrecentre.com.au

Twitter: @karenhardyCT