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diff --git a/2383-h/2383-h.htm b/2383-h/2383-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1204120 --- /dev/null +++ b/2383-h/2383-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,43363 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Canterbury Tales, and Other Poems, by Geoffrey Chaucer</title> + +<style type="text/css"> + +body { margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 20%; + text-align: justify; } + +h1, h2, h3, h4, h5 {text-align: center; font-style: normal; font-weight: +normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: .5em; margin-bottom: .5em;} + +h1 {font-size: 300%; + margin-top: 0.6em; + margin-bottom: 0.6em; + letter-spacing: 0.12em; + word-spacing: 0.2em; + text-indent: 0em;} +h2 {font-size: 150%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} +h3 {font-size: 130%; margin-top: 1em;} +h4 {font-size: 120%;} +h5 {font-size: 110%;} + +.no-break {page-break-before: avoid;} /* for epubs */ + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always; margin-top: 4em;} + +hr {width: 80%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + +p {text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-bottom: 0.25em; } + +.p2 {margin-top: 2em;} + +p.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-size: 90%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +p.center {text-align: center; + text-indent: 0em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.right {text-align: right; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.footnote {font-size: 90%; + text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +sup { vertical-align: top; font-size: 0.6em; } + +a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:hover {color:red} + +</style> + +</head> + +<body> + +<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Canterbury Tales, and Other Poems, by Geoffrey Chaucer</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online +at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Canterbury Tales<br /> + and Other Poems</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Geoffrey Chaucer</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Editor: David Laing Purves</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: November, 2000 [eBook #2383]<br /> +[Most recently updated: December 6, 2022]</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Donal O’Danachair</div> +<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CANTERBURY TALES, AND OTHER POEMS ***</div> + +<h1>The Canterbury Tales</h1> + +<h3>and Other Poems</h3> + +<h2 class="no-break">of Geoffrey Chaucer</h2> + +<h4> +Edited for Popular Perusal<br/> +by<br/> +D. Laing Purves</h4> + +<hr /> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2>Contents</h2> + +<table summary="" style=""> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap01">PREFACE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap02">LIFE OF CHAUCER</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap03">THE CANTERBURY TALES</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap04">The General Prologue</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap05">The Knight’s Tale</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap06">The Miller’s tale</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap07">The Reeve’s Tale</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap08">The Cook’s Tale</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap09">The Man of Law’s Tale</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap10">The Wife of Bath’s Tale</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap11">The Friar’s Tale</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap12">The Sompnour’s Tale</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap13">The Clerk’s Tale</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap14">The Merchant’s Tale</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap15">The Squire’s Tale</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap16">The Franklin’s Tale</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap17">The Doctor’s Tale</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap18">The Pardoner’s Tale</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap19">The Shipman’s Tale</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap20">The Prioress’s Tale</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap21">Chaucer’s Tale of Sir Thopas</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap22">Chaucer’s Tale of Melibœus</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap23">The Monk’s Tale</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap24">The Nun’s Priest’s Tale</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap25">The Second Nun’s Tale</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap26">The Canon’s Yeoman’s Tale</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap27">The Manciple’s Tale</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap28">The Parson’s Tale</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap29">Preces de Chauceres</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap30">THE COURT OF LOVE <1></a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap31">THE CUCKOO AND THE NIGHTINGALE <1></a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap32">THE ASSEMBLY OF FOWLS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap33">THE FLOWER AND THE LEAF <1></a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap34">THE HOUSE OF FAME</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap35">TROILUS AND CRESSIDA</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap36">CHAUCER’S DREAM <1></a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap37">THE PROLOGUE TO THE LEGEND OF GOOD WOMEN</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap38">CHAUCER’S A.B.C.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap39">MISCELLANEOUS POEMS</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<p> +Transcriber’s Note. +</p> + +<p> +1. Modern scholars believe that Chaucer was not the author of +these poems. +</p> + +<hr /> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3>Transcriber’s Notes:</h3> + +<p> +Credits: This e-text was scanned, re-formatted and edited with extra notes by +Donal O’ Danachair (kodak_seaside@hotmail.com). I would like to acknowledge the +help of Edwin Duncan, Juris Lidaka and Aniina Jokinnen in identifying some of +the poems no Longer attributed to Chaucer. This e-text, with its notes, is +hereby placed in the public domain. +</p> + +<p> +Preface: The preface is for a combined volume of poems by Chaucer and Edmund +Spenser. The Spenser poems will shortly be available as a separate E-text. +</p> + +<p> +Spelling and punctuation: These are the same as in the book as far as possible. +Accents have been removed. Diereses (umlauts) have been removed from English +words and replaced by “e” in German ones. The AE and OE digraphs have been +transcribed as two letters. The British pound (currency) sign has been replaced +by a capital L. Greek words have been transliterated. +</p> + +<p> +Footnotes: The original book has an average of 30 footnotes +per page. These were of three types: +(A) Glosses or explanations of obsolete words and phrases. +These have been treated as follows: +1. In the poems, they have been moved up into the right-hand +margin. Some of them have been shortened or paraphrased in +order to fit. +Explanations of single words have a single asterisk at the +end of the word and at the beginning of the explanation*. *like this +If two words in the same line have explanations +the first* has one and the second**, two. *like this **and this +Explanations of phrases have an asterisk at the +start and end *of the phrase* and of the explanation *like this* +Sometimes these glosses wrap onto the next line, still in the +right margin. If you read this e-text using a monospaced font +(like Courier in a word processor such as MS Word, or the +default font in most text editors) then the marginal notes are +right-justified. +2. In the prose tales, they have been imbedded into the text in +square brackets after the word or phrase they refer to [like this]. +(B) Etymological explanations of these words. These are +indicted by a number in angle brackets in the marginal +gloss.* The note will be found at the *like this <1> +end of the poem or section. +(C) Longer notes commenting on or explaining the text. These +are indicated in the text by numbers in angle brackets thus: <1>. +The note will be found at the end of the poem or section. +</p> + +<p> +Latin: Despite his declared aim of editing the tales “for popular perusal”, +Purves has left nearly all Latin quotations untranslated. I have translated +them as well as I could — any errors are my fault, not his. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap01"></a>PREFACE.</h2> + +<p> +THE object of this volume is to place before the general reader +our two early poetic masterpieces — The Canterbury Tales and +The Faerie Queen; to do so in a way that will render their +“popular perusal” easy in a time of little leisure and unbounded +temptations to intellectual languor; and, on the same conditions, +to present a liberal and fairly representative selection from the +less important and familiar poems of Chaucer and Spenser. +There is, it may be said at the outset, peculiar advantage and +propriety in placing the two poets side by side in the manner +now attempted for the first time. Although two centuries divide +them, yet Spenser is the direct and really the immediate +successor to the poetical inheritance of Chaucer. Those two +hundred years, eventful as they were, produced no poet at all +worthy to take up the mantle that fell from Chaucer’s shoulders; +and Spenser does not need his affected archaisms, nor his +frequent and reverent appeals to “Dan Geffrey,” to vindicate for +himself a place very close to his great predecessor in the literary +history of England. If Chaucer is the “Well of English +undefiled,” Spenser is the broad and stately river that yet holds +the tenure of its very life from the fountain far away in other +and ruder scenes. +</p> + +<p> +The Canterbury Tales, so far as they are in verse, have been +printed without any abridgement or designed change in the +sense. But the two Tales in prose — Chaucer’s Tale of +Melibœus, and the Parson’s long Sermon on Penitence — have +been contracted, so as to exclude thirty pages of unattractive +prose, and to admit the same amount of interesting and +characteristic poetry. The gaps thus made in the prose Tales, +however, are supplied by careful outlines of the omitted matter, +so that the reader need be at no loss to comprehend the whole +scope and sequence of the original. With The Faerie Queen a +bolder course has been pursued. The great obstacle to the +popularity of Spencer’s splendid work has lain less in its +language than in its length. If we add together the three great +poems of antiquity — the twenty-four books of the Iliad, the +twenty-four books of the Odyssey, and the twelve books of the +Aeneid — we get at the dimensions of only one-half of The +Faerie Queen. The six books, and the fragment of a seventh, +which alone exist of the author’s contemplated twelve, number +about 35,000 verses; the sixty books of Homer and Virgil +number no more than 37,000. The mere bulk of the poem, then, +has opposed a formidable barrier to its popularity; to say +nothing of the distracting effect produced by the numberless +episodes, the tedious narrations, and the constant repetitions, +which have largely swelled that bulk. In this volume the poem +is compressed into two-thirds of its original space, through the +expedient of representing the less interesting and more +mechanical passages by a condensed prose outline, in which it +has been sought as far as possible to preserve the very words of +the poet. While deprecating a too critical judgement on the +bare and constrained precis standing in such trying +juxtaposition, it is hoped that the labour bestowed in saving the +reader the trouble of wading through much that is not essential +for the enjoyment of Spencer’s marvellous allegory, will not be +unappreciated. +</p> + +<p> +As regards the manner in which the text of the two great works, +especially of The Canterbury Tales, is presented, the Editor is +aware that some whose judgement is weighty will differ from +him. This volume has been prepared “for popular perusal;” and +its very <i>raison d’être</i> would have failed, if the ancient +orthography had been retained. It has often been affirmed by +editors of Chaucer in the old forms of the language, that a little +trouble at first would render the antiquated spelling and +obsolete inflections a continual source, not of difficulty, but of +actual delight, for the reader coming to the study of Chaucer +without any preliminary acquaintance with the English of his +day — or of his copyists’ days. Despite this complacent +assurance, the obvious fact is, that Chaucer in the old forms has +not become popular, in the true sense of the word; he is not +“understanded of the vulgar.” In this volume, therefore, the text +of Chaucer has been presented in nineteenth-century garb. But +there has been not the slightest attempt to “modernise” +Chaucer, in the wider meaning of the phrase; to replace his +words by words which he did not use; or, following the example +of some operators, to translate him into English of the modern +spirit as well as the modern forms. So far from that, in every +case where the old spelling or form seemed essential to metre, +to rhyme, or meaning, no change has been attempted. But, +wherever its preservation was not essential, the spelling of the +monkish transcribers — for the most ardent purist must now +despair of getting at the spelling of Chaucer himself — has been +discarded for that of the reader’s own day. It is a poor +compliment to the Father of English Poetry, to say that by such +treatment the bouquet and individuality of his works must be +lost. If his masterpiece is valuable for one thing more than any +other, it is the vivid distinctness with which English men and +women of the fourteenth century are there painted, for the study +of all the centuries to follow. But we wantonly balk the artist’s +own purpose, and discredit his labour, when we keep before his +picture the screen of dust and cobwebs which, for the English +people in these days, the crude forms of the infant language +have practically become. Shakespeare has not suffered by +similar changes; Spencer has not suffered; it would be surprising +if Chaucer should suffer, when the loss of popular +comprehension and favour in his case are necessarily all the +greater for his remoteness from our day. In a much smaller +degree — since previous labours in the same direction had left +far less to do — the same work has been performed for the +spelling of Spenser; and the whole endeavour in this department +of the Editor’s task has been, to present a text plain and easily +intelligible to the modern reader, without any injustice to the old +poet. It would be presumptuous to believe that in every case +both ends have been achieved together; but the laudatores +temporis acti - the students who may differ most from the plan +pursued in this volume — will best appreciate the difficulty of +the enterprise, and most leniently regard any failure in the +details of its accomplishment. +</p> + +<p> +With all the works of Chaucer, outside The Canterbury Tales, it +would have been absolutely impossible to deal within the scope +of this volume. But nearly one hundred pages, have been +devoted to his minor poems; and, by dint of careful selection +and judicious abridgement — a connecting outline of the story in +all such cases being given — the Editor ventures to hope that he +has presented fair and acceptable specimens of Chaucer’s +workmanship in all styles. The preparation of this part of the +volume has been a laborious task; no similar attempt on the +same scale has been made; and, while here also the truth of the +text in matters essential has been in nowise sacrificed to mere +ease of perusal, the general reader will find opened up for him a +new view of Chaucer and his works. Before a perusal of these +hundred pages, will melt away for ever the lingering tradition or +prejudice that Chaucer was only, or characteristically, a coarse +buffoon, who pandered to a base and licentious appetite by +painting and exaggerating the lowest vices of his time. In these +selections — made without a thought of taking only what is to +the poet’s credit from a wide range of poems in which hardly a +word is to his discredit — we behold Chaucer as he was; a +courtier, a gallant, pure-hearted gentleman, a scholar, a +philosopher, a poet of gay and vivid fancy, playing around +themes of chivalric convention, of deep human interest, or +broad-sighted satire. In The Canterbury Tales, we see, not +Chaucer, but Chaucer’s times and neighbours; the artist has lost +himself in his work. To show him honestly and without disguise, +as he lived his own life and sung his own songs at the brilliant +Court of Edward III, is to do his memory a moral justice far +more material than any wrong that can ever come out of +spelling. As to the minor poems of Spenser, which follow The +Faerie Queen, the choice has been governed by the desire to +give at once the most interesting, and the most characteristic of +the poet’s several styles; and, save in the case of the Sonnets, +the poems so selected are given entire. It is manifest that the +endeavours to adapt this volume for popular use, have been +already noticed, would imperfectly succeed without the aid of +notes and glossary, to explain allusions that have become +obsolete, or antiquated words which it was necessary to retain. +An endeavour has been made to render each page self- +explanatory, by placing on it all the glossarial and illustrative +notes required for its elucidation, or — to avoid repetitions that +would have occupied space — the references to the spot where +information may be found. The great advantage of such a plan +to the reader, is the measure of its difficulty for the editor. It +permits much more flexibility in the choice of glossarial +explanations or equivalents; it saves the distracting and time- +consuming reference to the end or the beginning of the book; +but, at the same time, it largely enhances the liability to error. +The Editor is conscious that in the 12,000 or 13,000 notes, as +well as in the innumerable minute points of spelling, +accentuation, and rhythm, he must now and again be found +tripping; he can only ask any reader who may detect all that he +could himself point out as being amiss, to set off against +inevitable mistakes and misjudgements, the conscientious labour +bestowed on the book, and the broad consideration of its fitness +for the object contemplated. +</p> + +<p> + From books the Editor has derived valuable help; as from Mr +Cowden Clarke’s revised modern text of The Canterbury Tales, +published in Mr Nimmo’s Library Edition of the English Poets; +from Mr Wright’s scholarly edition of the same work; from the +indispensable Tyrwhitt; from Mr Bell’s edition of Chaucer’s +Poem; from Professor Craik’s “Spenser and his Poetry,” +published twenty-five years ago by Charles Knight; and from +many others. In the abridgement of the Faerie Queen, the plan +may at first sight seem to be modelled on the lines of Mr Craik’s +painstaking condensation; but the coincidences are either +inevitable or involuntary. Many of the notes, especially of those +explaining classical references and those attached to the minor +poems of Chaucer, have been prepared specially for this edition. +The Editor leaves his task with the hope that his attempt to +remove artificial obstacles to the popularity of England’s +earliest poets, will not altogether miscarry. +</p> + +<p class="right">D. LAING PURVES. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap02"></a>LIFE OF GEOFFREY CHAUCER.</h2> + +<p> +NOT in point of genius only, but even in point of time, Chaucer +may claim the proud designation of “first” English poet. He +wrote “The Court of Love” in 1345, and “The Romaunt of the +Rose,” if not also “Troilus and Cressida,” probably within the +next decade: the dates usually assigned to the poems of +Laurence Minot extend from 1335 to 1355, while “The Vision +of Piers Plowman” mentions events that occurred in 1360 and +1362 — before which date Chaucer had certainly written “The +Assembly of Fowls” and his “Dream.” But, though they were +his contemporaries, neither Minot nor Langland (if Langland +was the author of the Vision) at all approached Chaucer in the +finish, the force, or the universal interest of their works and the +poems of earlier writer; as Layamon and the author of the +“Ormulum,” are less English than Anglo-Saxon or Anglo- +Norman. Those poems reflected the perplexed struggle for +supremacy between the two grand elements of our language, +which marked the twelfth and thirteenth centuries; a struggle +intimately associated with the political relations between the +conquering Normans and the subjugated Anglo-Saxons. +Chaucer found two branches of the language; that spoken by +the people, Teutonic in its genius and its forms; that spoken by +the learned and the noble, based on the French Yet each branch +had begun to borrow of the other — just as nobles and people +had been taught to recognise that each needed the other in the +wars and the social tasks of the time; and Chaucer, a scholar, a +courtier, a man conversant with all orders of society, but +accustomed to speak, think, and write in the words of the +highest, by his comprehensive genius cast into the simmering +mould a magical amalgamant which made the two half-hostile +elements unite and interpenetrate each other. Before Chaucer +wrote, there were two tongues in England, keeping alive the +feuds and resentments of cruel centuries; when he laid down his +pen, there was practically but one speech — there was, and ever +since has been, but one people. +</p> + +<p> +Geoffrey Chaucer, according to the most trustworthy traditions- +for authentic testimonies on the subject are wanting — was born +in 1328; and London is generally believed to have been his +birth-place. It is true that Leland, the biographer of England’s +first great poet who lived nearest to his time, not merely speaks +of Chaucer as having been born many years later than the date +now assigned, but mentions Berkshire or Oxfordshire as the +scene of his birth. So great uncertainty have some felt on the +latter score, that elaborate parallels have been drawn between +Chaucer, and Homer — for whose birthplace several cities +contended, and whose descent was traced to the demigods. +Leland may seem to have had fair opportunities of getting at the +truth about Chaucer’s birth — for Henry VIII had him, at the +suppression of the monasteries throughout England, to search +for records of public interest the archives of the religious +houses. But it may be questioned whether he was likely to find +many authentic particulars regarding the personal history of the +poet in the quarters which he explored; and Leland’s testimony +seems to be set aside by Chaucer’s own evidence as to his +birthplace, and by the contemporary references which make him +out an aged man for years preceding the accepted date of his +death. In one of his prose works, “The Testament of Love,” the +poet speaks of himself in terms that strongly confirm the claim +of London to the honour of giving him birth; for he there +mentions “the city of London, that is to me so dear and sweet, +in which I was forth growen; and more kindly love,” says he, +“have I to that place than to any other in earth; as every kindly +creature hath full appetite to that place of his kindly engendrure, +and to will rest and peace in that place to abide.” This tolerably +direct evidence is supported — so far as it can be at such an +interval of time — by the learned Camden; in his Annals of +Queen Elizabeth, he describes Spencer, who was certainly born +in London, as being a fellow-citizen of Chaucer’s — “Edmundus +Spenserus, patria Londinensis, Musis adeo arridentibus natus, ut +omnes Anglicos superioris aevi poetas, ne Chaucero quidem +concive excepto, superaret.” <1> The records of the time notice +more than one person of the name of Chaucer, who held +honourable positions about the Court; and though we cannot +distinctly trace the poet’s relationship with any of these +namesakes or antecessors, we find excellent ground for belief +that his family or friends stood well at Court, in the ease with +which Chaucer made his way there, and in his subsequent +career. +</p> + +<p> +Like his great successor, Spencer, it was the fortune of Chaucer +to live under a splendid, chivalrous, and high-spirited reign. +1328 was the second year of Edward III; and, what with Scotch +wars, French expeditions, and the strenuous and costly struggle +to hold England in a worthy place among the States of Europe, +there was sufficient bustle, bold achievement, and high ambition +in the period to inspire a poet who was prepared to catch the +spirit of the day. It was an age of elaborate courtesy, of high- +paced gallantry, of courageous venture, of noble disdain for +mean tranquillity; and Chaucer, on the whole a man of peaceful +avocations, was penetrated to the depth of his consciousness +with the lofty and lovely civil side of that brilliant and restless +military period. No record of his youthful years, however, +remains to us; if we believe that at the age of eighteen he was a +student of Cambridge, it is only on the strength of a reference in +his “Court of Love”, where the narrator is made to say that his +name is Philogenet, “of Cambridge clerk;” while he had already +told us that when he was stirred to seek the Court of Cupid he +was “at eighteen year of age.” According to Leland, however, +he was educated at Oxford, proceeding thence to France and +the Netherlands, to finish his studies; but there remains no +certain evidence of his having belonged to either University. At +the same time, it is not doubted that his family was of good +condition; and, whether or not we accept the assertion that his +father held the rank of knighthood — rejecting the hypotheses +that make him a merchant, or a vintner “at the corner of Kirton +Lane” — it is plain, from Chaucer’s whole career, that he had +introductions to public life, and recommendations to courtly +favour, wholly independent of his genius. We have the clearest +testimony that his mental training was of wide range and +thorough excellence, altogether rare for a mere courtier in those +days: his poems attest his intimate acquaintance with the +divinity, the philosophy, and the scholarship of his time, and +show him to have had the sciences, as then developed and +taught, “at his fingers’ ends.” Another proof of Chaucer’s good +birth and fortune would he found in the statement that, after his +University career was completed, he entered the Inner Temple - +- the expenses of which could be borne only by men of noble +and opulent families; but although there is a story that he was +once fined two shillings for thrashing a Franciscan friar in Fleet +Street, we have no direct authority for believing that the poet +devoted himself to the uncongenial study of the law. No special +display of knowledge on that subject appears in his works; yet +in the sketch of the Manciple, in the Prologue to the Canterbury +Tales, may be found indications of his familiarity with the +internal economy of the Inns of Court; while numerous legal +phrases and references hint that his comprehensive information +was not at fault on legal matters. Leland says that he quitted the +University “a ready logician, a smooth rhetorician, a pleasant +poet, a grave philosopher, an ingenious mathematician, and a +holy divine;” and by all accounts, when Geoffrey Chaucer +comes before us authentically for the first time, at the age of +thirty-one, he was possessed of knowledge and +accomplishments far beyond the common standard of his day. +</p> + +<p> +Chaucer at this period possessed also other qualities fitted to +recommend him to favour in a Court like that of Edward III. +Urry describes him, on the authority of a portrait, as being then +“of a fair beautiful complexion, his lips red and full, his size of a +just medium, and his port and air graceful and majestic. So,” +continues the ardent biographer, — “so that every ornament that +could claim the approbation of the great and fair, his abilities to +record the valour of the one, and celebrate the beauty of the +other, and his wit and gentle behaviour to converse with both, +conspired to make him a complete courtier.” If we believe that +his “Court of Love” had received such publicity as the literary +media of the time allowed in the somewhat narrow and select +literary world — not to speak of “Troilus and Cressida,” which, +as Lydgate mentions it first among Chaucer’s works, some have +supposed to be a youthful production — we find a third and not +less powerful recommendation to the favour of the great co- +operating with his learning and his gallant bearing. Elsewhere +<2> reasons have been shown for doubt whether “Troilus and +Cressida” should not be assigned to a later period of Chaucer’s +life; but very little is positively known about the dates and +sequence of his various works. In the year 1386, being called as +witness with regard to a contest on a point of heraldry between +Lord Scrope and Sir Robert Grosvenor, Chaucer deposed that +he entered on his military career in 1359. In that year Edward +III invaded France, for the third time, in pursuit of his claim to +the French crown; and we may fancy that, in describing the +embarkation of the knights in “Chaucer’s Dream”, the poet +gained some of the vividness and stir of his picture from his +recollections of the embarkation of the splendid and well- +appointed royal host at Sandwich, on board the eleven hundred +transports provided for the enterprise. In this expedition the +laurels of Poitiers were flung on the ground; after vainly +attempting Rheims and Paris, Edward was constrained, by cruel +weather and lack of provisions, to retreat toward his ships; the +fury of the elements made the retreat more disastrous than an +overthrow in pitched battle; horses and men perished by +thousands, or fell into the hands of the pursuing French. +Chaucer, who had been made prisoner at the siege of Retters, +was among the captives in the possession of France when the +treaty of Bretigny — the “great peace” — was concluded, in +May, 1360. Returning to England, as we may suppose, at the +peace, the poet, ere long, fell into another and a pleasanter +captivity; for his marriage is generally believed to have taken +place shortly after his release from foreign durance. He had +already gained the personal friendship and favour of John of +Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, the King’s son; the Duke, while Earl +of Richmond, had courted, and won to wife after a certain +delay, Blanche, daughter and co-heiress of Henry Duke of +Lancaster; and Chaucer is by some believed to have written +“The Assembly of Fowls” to celebrate the wooing, as he wrote +“Chaucer’s Dream” to celebrate the wedding, of his patron. The +marriage took place in 1359, the year of Chaucer’s expedition to +France; and as, in “The Assembly of Fowls,” the formel or +female eagle, who is supposed to represent the Lady Blanche, +begs that her choice of a mate may be deferred for a year, 1358 +and 1359 have been assigned as the respective dates of the two +poems already mentioned. In the “Dream,” Chaucer +prominently introduces his own lady-love, to whom, after the +happy union of his patron with the Lady Blanche, he is wedded +amid great rejoicing; and various expressions in the same poem +show that not only was the poet high in favour with the +illustrious pair, but that his future wife had also peculiar claims +on their regard. She was the younger daughter of Sir Payne +Roet, a native of Hainault, who had, like many of his +countrymen, been attracted to England by the example and +patronage of Queen Philippa. The favourite attendant on the +Lady Blanche was her elder sister Katherine: subsequently +married to Sir Hugh Swynford, a gentleman of Lincolnshire; +and destined, after the death of Blanche, to be in succession +governess of her children, mistress of John of Gaunt, and +lawfully-wedded Duchess of Lancaster. It is quite sufficient +proof that Chaucer’s position at Court was of no mean +consequence, to find that his wife, the sister of the future +Duchess of Lancaster, was one of the royal maids of honour, +and even, as Sir Harris Nicolas conjectures, a god-daughter of +the Queen — for her name also was Philippa. +</p> + +<p> +Between 1359, when the poet himself testifies that he was made +prisoner while bearing arms in France, and September 1366, +when Queen Philippa granted to her former maid of honour, by +the name of Philippa Chaucer, a yearly pension of ten marks, or +L6, 13s. 4d., we have no authentic mention of Chaucer, express +or indirect. It is plain from this grant that the poet’s marriage +with Sir Payne Roet’s daughter was not celebrated later than +1366; the probability is, that it closely followed his return from +the wars. In 1367, Edward III. settled upon Chaucer a life- +pension of twenty marks, “for the good service which our +beloved Valet — ‘dilectus Valettus noster’ — Geoffrey Chaucer +has rendered, and will render in time to come.” Camden +explains ‘Valettus hospitii’ to signify a Gentleman of the Privy +Chamber; Selden says that the designation was bestowed “upon +young heirs designed to he knighted, or young gentlemen of +great descent and quality.” Whatever the strict meaning of the +word, it is plain that the poet’s position was honourable and +near to the King’s person, and also that his worldly +circumstances were easy, if not affluent — for it need not be said +that twenty marks in those days represented twelve or twenty +times the sum in these. It is believed that he found powerful +patronage, not merely from the Duke of Lancaster and his wife, +but from Margaret Countess of Pembroke, the King’s daughter. +To her Chaucer is supposed to have addressed the “Goodly +Ballad”, in which the lady is celebrated under the image of the +daisy; her he is by some understood to have represented under +the title of Queen Alcestis, in the “Court of Love” and the +Prologue to “The Legend of Good Women;” and in her praise +we may read his charming descriptions and eulogies of the daisy +— French, “Marguerite,” the name of his Royal patroness. To +this period of Chaucer’s career we may probably attribute the +elegant and courtly, if somewhat conventional, poems of “The +Flower and the Leaf,” “The Cuckoo and the Nightingale,” &c. +“The Lady Margaret,” says Urry, “. . . would frequently +compliment him upon his poems. But this is not to be meant of +his Canterbury Tales, they being written in the latter part of his +life, when the courtier and the fine gentleman gave way to solid +sense and plain descriptions. In his love-pieces he was obliged +to have the strictest regard to modesty and decency; the ladies +at that time insisting so much upon the nicest punctilios of +honour, that it was highly criminal to depreciate their sex, or do +anything that might offend virtue.” Chaucer, in their estimation, +had sinned against the dignity and honour of womankind by his +translation of the French “Roman de la Rose,” and by his +“Troilus and Cressida” — assuming it to have been among his +less mature works; and to atone for those offences the Lady +Margaret (though other and older accounts say that it was the +first Queen of Richard II., Anne of Bohemia), prescribed to him +the task of writing “The Legend of Good Women” (see +introductory note to that poem). About this period, too, we +may place the composition of Chaucer’s A. B. C., or The Prayer +of Our Lady, made at the request of the Duchess Blanche, a +lady of great devoutness in her private life. She died in 1369; +and Chaucer, as he had allegorised her wooing, celebrated her +marriage, and aided her devotions, now lamented her death, in a +poem entitled “The Book of the Duchess; or, the Death of +Blanche.<3> +</p> + +<p> +In 1370, Chaucer was employed on the King’s service abroad; +and in November 1372, by the title of “Scutifer noster” — our +Esquire or Shield-bearer — he was associated with “Jacobus +Pronan,” and “Johannes de Mari civis Januensis,” in a royal +commission, bestowing full powers to treat with the Duke of +Genoa, his Council, and State. The object of the embassy was +to negotiate upon the choice of an English port at which the +Genoese might form a commercial establishment; and Chaucer, +having quitted England in December, visited Genoa and +Florence, and returned to England before the end of November +1373 — for on that day he drew his pension from the Exchequer +in person. The most interesting point connected with this Italian +mission is the question, whether Chaucer visited Petrarch at +Padua. That he did, is unhesitatingly affirmed by the old +biographers; but the authentic notices of Chaucer during the +years 1372-1373, as shown by the researches of Sir Harris +Nicolas, are confined to the facts already stated; and we are left +to answer the question by the probabilities of the case, and by +the aid of what faint light the poet himself affords. We can +scarcely fancy that Chaucer, visiting Italy for the first time, in a +capacity which opened for him easy access to the great and the +famous, did not embrace the chance of meeting a poet whose +works he evidently knew in their native tongue, and highly +esteemed. With Mr Wright, we are strongly disinclined to +believe “that Chaucer did not profit by the opportunity . . . of +improving his acquaintance with the poetry, if not the poets, of +the country he thus visited, whose influence was now being felt +on the literature of most countries of Western Europe.” That +Chaucer was familiar with the Italian language appears not +merely from his repeated selection as Envoy to Italian States, +but by many passages in his poetry, from “The Assembly of +Fowls” to “The Canterbury Tales.” In the opening of the first +poem there is a striking parallel to Dante’s inscription on the +gate of Hell. The first Song of Troilus, in “Troilus and +Cressida”, is a nearly literal translation of Petrarch’s 88th +Sonnet. In the Prologue to “The Legend of Good Women”, +there is a reference to Dante which can hardly have reached the +poet at second- hand. And in Chaucer’s great work — as in The +Wife of Bath’s Tale, and The Monk’s Tale — direct reference by +name is made to Dante, “the wise poet of Florence,” “the great +poet of Italy,” as the source whence the author has quoted. +When we consider the poet’s high place in literature and at +Court, which could not fail to make him free of the hospitalities +of the brilliant little Lombard States; his familiarity with the +tongue and the works of Italy’s greatest bards, dead and living; +the reverential regard which he paid to the memory of great +poets, of which we have examples in “The House of Fame,” and +at the close of “Troilus and Cressida” <4>; along with his own +testimony in the Prologue to The Clerk’s Tale, we cannot fail to +construe that testimony as a declaration that the Tale was +actually told to Chaucer by the lips of Petrarch, in 1373, the +very year in which Petrarch translated it into Latin, from +Boccaccio’s “Decameron.”<5> Mr Bell notes the objection to +this interpretation, that the words are put into the mouth, not of +the poet, but of the Clerk; and meets it by the counter- +objection, that the Clerk, being a purely imaginary personage, +could not have learned the story at Padua from Petrarch — and +therefore that Chaucer must have departed from the dramatic +assumption maintained in the rest of the dialogue. Instances +could be adduced from Chaucer’s writings to show that such a +sudden “departure from the dramatic assumption” would not be +unexampled: witness the “aside” in The Wife of Bath’s +Prologue, where, after the jolly Dame has asserted that “half so +boldly there can no man swear and lie as a woman can”, the +poet hastens to interpose, in his own person, these two lines: +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“I say not this by wives that be wise,<br/> +But if it be when they them misadvise.” +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +And again, in the Prologue to the “Legend of Good Women,” +from a description of the daisy — +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“She is the clearness and the very light,<br/> +That in this darke world me guides and leads,” +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +the poet, in the very next lines, slides into an address to his lady: +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“The heart within my sorrowful heart you dreads<br/> +And loves so sore, that ye be, verily,<br/> +The mistress of my wit, and nothing I,” &c. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +When, therefore, the Clerk of Oxford is made to say that he will +tell a tale — +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + “The which that I<br/> +Learn’d at Padova of a worthy clerk,<br/> +As proved by his wordes and his werk.<br/> +He is now dead, and nailed in his chest,<br/> +I pray to God to give his soul good rest.<br/> +Francis Petrarc’, the laureate poete,<br/> +Highte this clerk, whose rhetoric so sweet<br/> +Illumin’d all Itaile of poetry. . . .<br/> +But forth to tellen of this worthy man,<br/> +That taughte me this tale, as I began.” . . . +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +we may without violent effort believe that Chaucer speaks in his +own person, though dramatically the words are on the Clerk’s +lips. And the belief is not impaired by the sorrowful way in +which the Clerk lingers on Petrarch’s death — which would be +less intelligible if the fictitious narrator had only read the story +in the Latin translation, than if we suppose the news of +Petrarch’s death at Arqua in July 1374 to have closely followed +Chaucer to England, and to have cruelly and irresistibly mingled +itself with our poet’s personal recollections of his great Italian +contemporary. Nor must we regard as without significance the +manner in which the Clerk is made to distinguish between the +“body” of Petrarch’s tale, and the fashion in which it was set +forth in writing, with a proem that seemed “a thing +impertinent”, save that the poet had chosen in that way to +“convey his matter” — told, or “taught,” so much more directly +and simply by word of mouth. It is impossible to pronounce +positively on the subject; the question whether Chaucer saw +Petrarch in 1373 must remain a moot-point, so long as we have +only our present information; but fancy loves to dwell on the +thought of the two poets conversing under the vines at Arqua; +and we find in the history and the writings of Chaucer nothing +to contradict, a good deal to countenance, the belief that such a +meeting occurred. +</p> + +<p> +Though we have no express record, we have indirect testimony, +that Chaucer’s Genoese mission was discharged satisfactorily; +for on the 23d of April 1374, Edward III grants at Windsor to +the poet, by the title of “our beloved squire” — dilecto Armigero +nostro — unum pycher. vini, “one pitcher of wine” daily, to be +“perceived” in the port of London; a grant which, on the +analogy of more modern usage, might he held equivalent to +Chaucer’s appointment as Poet Laureate. When we find that +soon afterwards the grant was commuted for a money payment +of twenty marks per annum, we need not conclude that +Chaucer’s circumstances were poor; for it may be easily +supposed that the daily “perception” of such an article of +income was attended with considerable prosaic inconvenience. +A permanent provision for Chaucer was made on the 8th of +June 1374, when he was appointed Controller of the Customs in +the Port of London, for the lucrative imports of wools, skins or +“wool-fells,” and tanned hides — on condition that he should +fulfil the duties of that office in person and not by deputy, and +should write out the accounts with his own hand. We have +what seems evidence of Chaucer’s compliance with these terms +in “The House of Fame”, where, in the mouth of the eagle, the +poet describes himself, when he has finished his labour and +made his reckonings, as not seeking rest and news in social +intercourse, but going home to his own house, and there, “all so +dumb as any stone,” sitting “at another book,” until his look is +dazed; and again, in the record that in 1376 he received a grant +of L731, 4s. 6d., the amount of a fine levied on one John Kent, +whom Chaucer’s vigilance had frustrated in the attempt to ship a +quantity of wool for Dordrecht without paying the duty. The +seemingly derogatory condition, that the Controller should +write out the accounts or rolls (“rotulos”) of his office with his +own hand, appears to have been designed, or treated, as merely +formal; no records in Chaucer’s handwriting are known to exist +— which could hardly be the case if, for the twelve years of his +Controllership (1374-1386), he had duly complied with the +condition; and during that period he was more than once +employed abroad, so that the condition was evidently regarded +as a formality even by those who had imposed it. Also in 1374, +the Duke of Lancaster, whose ambitious views may well have +made him anxious to retain the adhesion of a man so capable +and accomplished as Chaucer, changed into a joint life-annuity +remaining to the survivor, and charged on the revenues of the +Savoy, a pension of L10 which two years before he settled on +the poet’s wife — whose sister was then the governess of the +Duke’s two daughters, Philippa and Elizabeth, and the Duke’s +own mistress. Another proof of Chaucer’s personal reputation +and high Court favour at this time, is his selection (1375) as +ward to the son of Sir Edmond Staplegate of Bilsynton, in Kent; +a charge on the surrender of which the guardian received no +less a sum than L104. +</p> + +<p> +We find Chaucer in 1376 again employed on a foreign mission. +In 1377, the last year of Edward III., he was sent to Flanders +with Sir Thomas Percy, afterwards Earl of Worcester, for the +purpose of obtaining a prolongation of the truce; and in January +13738, he was associated with Sir Guichard d’Angle and other +Commissioners, to pursue certain negotiations for a marriage +between Princess Mary of France and the young King Richard +II., which had been set on foot before the death of Edward III. +The negotiation, however, proved fruitless; and in May 1378, +Chaucer was selected to accompany Sir John Berkeley on a +mission to the Court of Bernardo Visconti, Duke of Milan, with +the view, it is supposed, of concerting military plans against the +outbreak of war with France. The new King, meantime, had +shown that he was not insensible to Chaucer’s merit — or to the +influence of his tutor and the poet’s patron, the Duke of +Lancaster; for Richard II. confirmed to Chaucer his pension of +twenty marks, along with an equal annual sum, for which the +daily pitcher of wine granted in 1374 had been commuted. +Before his departure for Lombardy, Chaucer — still holding his +post in the Customs — selected two representatives or trustees, +to protect his estate against legal proceedings in his absence, or +to sue in his name defaulters and offenders against the imposts +which he was charged to enforce. One of these trustees was +called Richard Forrester; the other was John Gower, the poet, +the most famous English contemporary of Chaucer, with whom +he had for many years been on terms of admiring friendship — +although, from the strictures passed on certain productions of +Gower’s in the Prologue to The Man of Law’s Tale,<6> it has +been supposed that in the later years of Chaucer’s life the +friendship suffered some diminution. To the “moral Gower” and +“the philosophical Strode,” Chaucer “directed” or dedicated his +“Troilus and Cressida;” <7> while, in the “Confessio Amantis,” +Gower introduces a handsome compliment to his greater +contemporary, as the “disciple and the poet” of Venus, with +whose glad songs and ditties, made in her praise during the +flowers of his youth, the land was filled everywhere. Gower, +however — a monk and a Conservative — held to the party of +the Duke of Gloucester, the rival of the Wycliffite and +innovating Duke of Lancaster, who was Chaucer’s patron, and +whose cause was not a little aided by Chaucer’s strictures on the +clergy; and thus it is not impossible that political differences +may have weakened the old bonds of personal friendship and +poetic esteem. Returning from Lombardy early in 1379, +Chaucer seems to have been again sent abroad; for the records +exhibit no trace of him between May and December of that +year. Whether by proxy or in person, however, he received his +pensions regularly until 1382, when his income was increased +by his appointment to the post of Controller of Petty Customs +in the port of London. In November 1384, he obtained a +month’s leave of absence on account of his private affairs, and a +deputy was appointed to fill his place; and in February of the +next year he was permitted to appoint a permanent deputy — +thus at length gaining relief from that close attention to business +which probably curtailed the poetic fruits of the poet’s most +powerful years. <8> +</p> + +<p> +Chaucer is next found occupying a post which has not often +been held by men gifted with his peculiar genius — that of a +county member. The contest between the Dukes of Gloucester +and Lancaster, and their adherents, for the control of the +Government, was coming to a crisis; and when the recluse and +studious Chaucer was induced to offer himself to the electors of +Kent as one of the knights of their shire — where presumably he +held property — we may suppose that it was with the view of +supporting his patron’s cause in the impending conflict. The +Parliament in which the poet sat assembled at Westminster on +the 1st of October, and was dissolved on the 1st of November, +1386. Lancaster was fighting and intriguing abroad, absorbed in +the affairs of his Castilian succession; Gloucester and his friends +at home had everything their own way; the Earl of Suffolk was +dismissed from the woolsack, and impeached by the Commons; +and although Richard at first stood out courageously for the +friends of his uncle Lancaster, he was constrained, by the refusal +of supplies, to consent to the proceedings of Gloucester. A +commission was wrung from him, under protest, appointing +Gloucester, Arundel, and twelve other Peers and prelates, a +permanent council to inquire into the condition of all the public +departments, the courts of law, and the royal household, with +absolute powers of redress and dismissal. We need not ascribe +to Chaucer’s Parliamentary exertions in his patron’s behalf, nor +to any malpractices in his official conduct, the fact that he was +among the earliest victims of the commission.<9> In December +1386, he was dismissed from both his offices in the port of +London; but he retained his pensions, and drew them regularly +twice a year at the Exchequer until 1388. In 1387, Chaucer’s +political reverses were aggravated by a severe domestic +calamity: his wife died, and with her died the pension which had +been settled on her by Queen Philippa in 1366, and confirmed to +her at Richard’s accession in 1377. The change made in +Chaucer’s pecuniary position, by the loss of his offices and his +wife’s pension, must have been very great. It would appear that +during his prosperous times he had lived in a style quite equal to +his income, and had no ample resources against a season of +reverse; for, on the 1st of May 1388, less than a year and a half +after being dismissed from the Customs, he was constrained to +assign his pensions, by surrender in Chancery, to one John +Scalby. In May 1389, Richard II., now of age, abruptly +resumed the reins of government, which, for more than two +years, had been ably but cruelly managed by Gloucester. The +friends of Lancaster were once more supreme in the royal +councils, and Chaucer speedily profited by the change. On the +12th of July he was appointed Clerk of the King’s Works at the +Palace of Westminster, the Tower, the royal manors of +Kennington, Eltham, Clarendon, Sheen, Byfleet, Childern +Langley, and Feckenham, the castle of Berkhamstead, the royal +lodge of Hathenburgh in the New Forest, the lodges in the +parks of Clarendon, Childern Langley, and Feckenham, and the +mews for the King’s falcons at Charing Cross; he received a +salary of two shillings per day, and was allowed to perform the +duties by deputy. For some reason unknown, Chaucer held this +lucrative office <10> little more than two years, quitting it +before the 16th of September 1391, at which date it had passed +into the hands of one John Gedney. The next two years and a +half are a blank, so far as authentic records are concerned; +Chaucer is supposed to have passed them in retirement, +probably devoting them principally to the composition of The +Canterbury Tales. In February 1394, the King conferred upon +him a grant of L20 a year for life; but he seems to have had no +other source of income, and to have become embarrassed by +debt, for frequent memoranda of small advances on his pension +show that his circumstances were, in comparison, greatly +reduced. Things appear to have grown worse and worse with +the poet; for in May 1398 he was compelled to obtain from the +King letters of protection against arrest, extending over a term +of two years. Not for the first time, it is true — for similar +documents had been issued at the beginning of Richard’s reign; +but at that time Chaucer’s missions abroad, and his responsible +duties in the port of London, may have furnished reasons for +securing him against annoyance or frivolous prosecution, which +were wholly wanting at the later date. In 1398, fortune began +again to smile upon him; he received a royal grant of a tun of +wine annually, the value being about L4. Next year, Richard II +having been deposed by the son of John of Gaunt <11> — +Henry of Bolingbroke, Duke of Lancaster — the new King, four +days after hits accession, bestowed on Chaucer a grant of forty +marks (L26, 13s. 4d.) per annum, in addition to the pension of +L20 conferred by Richard II. in 1394. But the poet, now +seventy-one years of age, and probably broken down by the +reverses of the past few years, was not destined long to enjoy +his renewed prosperity. On Christmas Eve of 1399, he entered +on the possession of a house in the garden of the Chapel of the +Blessed Mary of Westminster — near to the present site of +Henry VII.’s Chapel — having obtained a lease from Robert +Hermodesworth, a monk of the adjacent convent, for fifty-three +years, at the annual rent of four marks (L2, 13s. 4d.) Until the +1st of March 1400, Chaucer drew his pensions in person; then +they were received for him by another hand; and on the 25th of +October, in the same year, he died, at the age of seventy-two. +The only lights thrown by his poems on his closing days are +furnished in the little ballad called “Good Counsel of Chaucer,” +— which, though said to have been written when “upon his +death-bed lying in his great anguish, “breathes the very spirit of +courage, resignation, and philosophic calm; and by the +“Retractation” at the end of The Canterbury Tales, which, if it +was not foisted in by monkish transcribers, may be supposed the +effect of Chaucer’s regrets and self-reproaches on that solemn +review of his life-work which the close approach of death +compelled. The poet was buried in Westminster Abbey; <12> +and not many years after his death a slab was placed on a pillar +near his grave, bearing the lines, taken from an epitaph or +eulogy made by Stephanus Surigonus of Milan, at the request of +Caxton: +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“Galfridus Chaucer, vates, et fama poesis<br/> +Maternae, hoc sacra sum tumulatus humo.” <13> +</p> + +<p> +About 1555, Mr Nicholas Brigham, a gentleman of Oxford who +greatly admired the genius of Chaucer, erected the present +tomb, as near to the spot where the poet lay, “before the chapel +of St Benet,” as was then possible by reason of the “cancelli,” +<14> which the Duke of Buckingham subsequently obtained +leave to remove, that room might be made for the tomb of +Dryden. On the structure of Mr Brigham, besides a full-length +representation of Chaucer, taken from a portrait drawn by his +“scholar” Thomas Occleve, was — or is, though now almost +illegible — the following inscription:— +</p> + +<p class="center"> +M. S.<br/> +QUI FUIT ANGLORUM VATES TER MAXIMUS OLIM,<br/> +GALFRIDUS CHAUCER CONDITUR HOC TUMULO;<br/> +ANNUM SI QUAERAS DOMINI, SI TEMPORA VITAE,<br/> +ECCE NOTAE SUBSUNT, QUE TIBI CUNCTA NOTANT.<br/> +25 OCTOBRIS 1400.<br/> +AERUMNARUM REQUIES MORS.<br/> +N. BRIGHAM HOS FECIT MUSARUM NOMINE SUMPTUS<br/> +1556. <15> +</p> + +<p> +Concerning his personal appearance and habits, Chaucer has not +been reticent in his poetry. Urry sums up the traits of his aspect +and character fairly thus: “He was of a middle stature, the latter +part of his life inclinable to be fat and corpulent, as appears by +the Host’s bantering him in the journey to Canterbury, and +comparing shapes with him.<16> His face was fleshy, his +features just and regular, his complexion fair, and somewhat +pale, his hair of a dusky yellow, short and thin; the hair of his +beard in two forked tufts, of a wheat colour; his forehead broad +and smooth; his eyes inclining usually to the ground, which is +intimated by the Host’s words; his whole face full of liveliness, a +calm, easy sweetness, and a studious Venerable aspect. . . . As +to his temper, he had a mixture of the gay, the modest, and the +grave. The sprightliness of his humour was more distinguished +by his writings than by his appearance; which gave occasion to +Margaret Countess of Pembroke often to rally him upon his +silent modesty in company, telling him, that his absence was +more agreeable to her than his conversation, since the first was +productive of agreeable pieces of wit in his writings, <17> but +the latter was filled with a modest deference, and a too distant +respect. We see nothing merry or jocose in his behaviour with +his pilgrims, but a silent attention to their mirth, rather than any +mixture of his own. . . When disengaged from public affairs, his +time was entirely spent in study and reading; so agreeable to +him was this exercise, that he says he preferred it to all other +sports and diversions.<18> He lived within himself, neither +desirous to hear nor busy to concern himself with the affairs of +his neighbours. His course of living was temperate and regular; +he went to rest with the sun, and rose before it; and by that +means enjoyed the pleasures of the better part of the day, his +morning walk and fresh contemplations. This gave him the +advantage of describing the morning in so lively a manner as he +does everywhere in his works. The springing sun glows warm in +his lines, and the fragrant air blows cool in his descriptions; we +smell the sweets of the bloomy haws, and hear the music of the +feathered choir, whenever we take a forest walk with him. The +hour of the day is not easier to be discovered from the reflection +of the sun in Titian’s paintings, than in Chaucer’s morning +landscapes. . . . His reading was deep and extensive, his +judgement sound and discerning. . . In one word, he was a great +scholar, a pleasant wit, a candid critic, a sociable companion, a +steadfast friend, a grave philosopher, a temperate economist, +and a pious Christian.” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +Chaucer’s most important poems are “Troilus and Cressida,” +“The Romaunt of the Rose,” and “The Canterbury Tales.” Of +the first, containing 8246 lines, an abridgement, with a prose +connecting outline of the story, is given in this volume. With the +second, consisting of 7699 octosyllabic verses, like those in +which “The House of Fame” is written, it was found impossible +to deal in the present edition. The poem is a curtailed translation +from the French “Roman de la Rose” — commenced by +Guillaume de Lorris, who died in 1260, after contributing 4070 +verses, and completed, in the last quarter of the thirteenth +century, by Jean de Meun, who added some 18,000 verses. It is +a satirical allegory, in which the vices of courts, the corruptions +of the clergy, the disorders and inequalities of society in general, +are unsparingly attacked, and the most revolutionary doctrines +are advanced; and though, in making his translation, Chaucer +softened or eliminated much of the satire of the poem, still it +remained, in his verse, a caustic exposure of the abuses of the +time, especially those which discredited the Church. +</p> + +<p> +The Canterbury Tales are presented in this edition with as near +an approach to completeness as regard for the popular character +of the volume permitted. The 17,385 verses, of which the +poetical Tales consist, have been given without abridgement or +purgation — save in a single couplet; but, the main purpose of +the volume being to make the general reader acquainted with +the “poems” of Chaucer and Spenser, the Editor has ventured to +contract the two prose Tales — Chaucer’s Tale of Melibœus, +and the Parson’s Sermon or Treatise on Penitence — so as to +save about thirty pages for the introduction of Chaucer’s minor +pieces. At the same time, by giving prose outlines of the omitted +parts, it has been sought to guard the reader against the fear +that he was losing anything essential, or even valuable. It is +almost needless to describe the plot, or point out the literary +place, of the Canterbury Tales. Perhaps in the entire range of +ancient and modern literature there is no work that so clearly +and freshly paints for future times the picture of the past; +certainly no Englishman has ever approached Chaucer in the +power of fixing for ever the fleeting traits of his own time. The +plan of the poem had been adopted before Chaucer chose it; +notably in the “Decameron” of Boccaccio — although, there, the +circumstances under which the tales were told, with the terror +of the plague hanging over the merry company, lend a grim +grotesqueness to the narrative, unless we can look at it +abstracted from its setting. Chaucer, on the other hand, strikes +a perpetual key-note of gaiety whenever he mentions the word +“pilgrimage;” and at every stage of the connecting story we +bless the happy thought which gives us incessant incident, +movement, variety, and unclouded but never monotonous +joyousness. +</p> + +<p> +The poet, the evening before he starts on a pilgrimage to the +shrine of St Thomas at Canterbury, lies at the Tabard Inn, in +Southwark, curious to know in what companionship he is +destined to fare forward on the morrow. Chance sends him +“nine and twenty in a company,” representing all orders of +English society, lay and clerical, from the Knight and the Abbot +down to the Ploughman and the Sompnour. The jolly Host of +the Tabard, after supper, when tongues are loosened and hearts +are opened, declares that “not this year” has he seen such a +company at once under his roof-tree, and proposes that, when +they set out next morning, he should ride with them and make +them sport. All agree, and Harry Bailly unfolds his scheme: each +pilgrim, including the poet, shall tell two tales on the road to +Canterbury, and two on the way back to London; and he whom +the general voice pronounces to have told the best tale, shall be +treated to a supper at the common cost — and, of course, to +mine Host’s profit — when the cavalcade returns from the saint’s +shrine to the Southwark hostelry. All joyously assent; and early +on the morrow, in the gay spring sunshine, they ride forth, +listening to the heroic tale of the brave and gentle Knight, who +has been gracefully chosen by the Host to lead the spirited +competition of story-telling. +</p> + +<p> +To describe thus the nature of the plan, and to say that when +Chaucer conceived, or at least began to execute it, he was +between sixty and seventy years of age, is to proclaim that The +Canterbury Tales could never be more than a fragment. Thirty +pilgrims, each telling two tales on the way out, and two more +on the way back — that makes 120 tales; to say nothing of the +prologue, the description of the journey, the occurrences at +Canterbury, “and all the remnant of their pilgrimage,” which +Chaucer also undertook. No more than twenty-three of the 120 +stories are told in the work as it comes down to us; that is, only +twenty-three of the thirty pilgrims tell the first of the two stories +on the road to Canterbury; while of the stories on the return +journey we have not one, and nothing is said about the doings +of the pilgrims at Canterbury — which would, if treated like the +scene at the Tabard, have given us a still livelier “picture of the +period.” But the plan was too large; and although the poet had +some reserves, in stories which he had already composed in an +independent form, death cut short his labour ere he could even +complete the arrangement and connection of more than a very +few of the Tales. Incomplete as it is, however, the magnum +opus of Chaucer was in his own time received with immense +favour; manuscript copies are numerous even now — no slight +proof of its popularity; and when the invention of printing was +introduced into England by William Caxton, The Canterbury +Tales issued from his press in the year after the first English- +printed book, “The Game of the Chesse,” had been struck off. +Innumerable editions have since been published; and it may +fairly be affirmed, that few books have been so much in favour +with the reading public of every generation as this book, which +the lapse of every generation has been rendering more +unreadable. +</p> + +<p> +Apart from “The Romaunt of the Rose,” no really important +poetical work of Chaucer’s is omitted from or unrepresented in +the present edition. Of “The Legend of Good Women,” the +Prologue only is given — but it is the most genuinely Chaucerian +part of the poem. Of “The Court of Love,” three-fourths are +here presented; of “The Assembly of Fowls,” “The Cuckoo and +the Nightingale,” “The Flower and the Leaf,” all; of “Chaucer’s +Dream,” one-fourth; of “The House of Fame,” two-thirds; and +of the minor poems such a selection as may give an idea of +Chaucer’s power in the “occasional” department of verse. +Necessarily, no space whatever could be given to Chaucer’s +prose works — his translation of Boethius’ Treatise on the +Consolation of Philosophy; his Treatise on the Astrolabe, +written for the use of his son Lewis; and his “Testament of +Love,” composed in his later years, and reflecting the troubles +that then beset the poet. If, after studying in a simplified form +the salient works of England’s first great bard, the reader is +tempted to regret that he was not introduced to a wider +acquaintance with the author, the purpose of the Editor will +have been more than attained. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +The plan of the volume does not demand an elaborate +examination into the state of our language when Chaucer wrote, +or the nice questions of grammatical and metrical structure +which conspire with the obsolete orthography to make his +poems a sealed book for the masses. The most important +element in the proper reading of Chaucer’s verses — whether +written in the decasyllabic or heroic metre, which he introduced +into our literature, or in the octosyllabic measure used with such +animated effect in “The House of Fame,” “Chaucer’s Dream,” +&c. — is the sounding of the terminal “e” where it is now silent. +That letter is still valid in French poetry; and Chaucer’s lines can +be scanned only by reading them as we would read Racine’s or +Molière’s. The terminal “e” played an important part in +grammar; in many cases it was the sign of the infinitive — the +“n” being dropped from the end; at other times it pointed the +distinction between singular and plural, between adjective and +adverb. The pages that follow, however, being prepared from +the modern English point of view, necessarily no account is +taken of those distinctions; and the now silent “e” has been +retained in the text of Chaucer only when required by the +modern spelling, or by the exigencies of metre. +</p> + +<p> +Before a word beginning with a vowel, or with the letter “h,” +the final “e” was almost without exception mute; and in such +cases, in the plural forms and infinitives of verbs, the terminal +“n” is generally retained for the sake of euphony. No reader +who is acquainted with the French language will find it hard to +fall into Chaucer’s accentuation; while, for such as are not, a +simple perusal of the text according to the rules of modern +verse, should remove every difficulty. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to Life of Geoffrey Chaucer +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +1. “Edmund Spenser, a native of London, was born with a Muse +of such power, that he was superior to all English poets of +preceding ages, not excepting his fellow-citizen Chaucer.” +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +2. See introduction to “The Legend of Good Women”. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +3. Called in the editions before 1597 “The Dream of Chaucer”. +The poem, which is not included in the present edition, does +indeed, like many of Chaucer’s smaller works, tell the story of a +dream, in which a knight, representing John of Gaunt, is found +by the poet mourning the loss of his lady; but the true “Dream +of Chaucer,” in which he celebrates the marriage of his patron, +was published for the first time by Speght in 1597. John of +Gaunt, in the end of 1371, married his second wife, Constance, +daughter to Pedro the Cruel of Spain; so that “The Book of the +Duchess” must have been written between 1369 and 1371. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +4. Where he bids his “little book”<br/> +“Subject be unto all poesy,<br/> +And kiss the steps, where as thou seest space,<br/> +Of Virgil, Ovid, Homer, Lucan, Stace.” +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +5. See note 1 to The Tale in The Clerk’s Tale. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +6. See note 1 to The Man of Law’s Tale. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +7. “Written,” says Mr Wright, “in the sixteenth year of the reign +of Richard II. (1392-1393);” a powerful confirmation of the +opinion that this poem was really produced in Chaucer’s mature +age. See the introductory notes to it and to the Legend of Good +Women. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +8. The old biographers of Chaucer, founding on what they took +to be autobiographic allusions in “The Testament of Love,” +assign to him between 1354 and 1389 a very different history +from that here given on the strength of authentic records +explored and quoted by Sir H. Nicolas. Chaucer is made to +espouse the cause of John of Northampton, the Wycliffite Lord +Mayor of London, whose re-election in 1384 was so +vehemently opposed by the clergy, and who was imprisoned in +the sequel of the grave disorders that arose. The poet, it is said, +fled to the Continent, taking with him a large sum of money, +which he spent in supporting companions in exile; then, +returning by stealth to England in quest of funds, he was +detected and sent to the Tower, where he languished for three +years, being released only on the humiliating condition of +informing against his associates in the plot. The public records +show, however, that, all the time of his alleged exile and +captivity, he was quietly living in London, regularly drawing his +pensions in person, sitting in Parliament, and discharging his +duties in the Customs until his dismissal in 1386. It need not be +said, further, that although Chaucer freely handled the errors, +the ignorance, and vices of the clergy, he did so rather as a man +of sense and of conscience, than as a Wycliffite — and there is +no evidence that he espoused the opinions of the zealous +Reformer, far less played the part of an extreme and self- +regardless partisan of his old friend and college-companion. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +9. “The Commissioners appear to have commenced their +labours with examining the accounts of the officers employed in +the collection of the revenue; and the sequel affords a strong +presumption that the royal administration [under Lancaster and +his friends] had been foully calumniated. We hear not of any +frauds discovered, or of defaulters punished, or of grievances +redressed.” Such is the testimony of Lingard (chap. iv., 1386), +all the more valuable for his aversion from the Wycliffite +leanings of John of Gaunt. Chaucer’s department in the London +Customs was in those days one of the most important and +lucrative in the kingdom; and if mercenary abuse of his post +could have been proved, we may be sure that his and his +patron’s enemies would not have been content with simple +dismissal, but would have heavily amerced or imprisoned him. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +10. The salary was L36, 10s. per annum; the salary of the Chief +Judges was L40, of the Puisne Judges about L27. Probably the +Judges — certainly the Clerk of the Works — had fees or +perquisites besides the stated payment. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +11. Chaucer’s patron had died earlier in 1399, during the exile +of his son (then Duke of Hereford) in France. The Duchess +Constance had died in 1394; and the Duke had made reparation +to Katherine Swynford — who had already borne him four +children — by marrying her in 1396, with the approval of +Richard II., who legitimated the children, and made the eldest +son of the poet’s sister-in-law Earl of Somerset. From this long- +illicit union sprang the house of Beaufort — that being the +surname of the Duke’s children by Katherine, after the name of +the castle in Anjou (Belfort, or Beaufort) where they were born. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +12. Of Chaucer’s two sons by Philippa Roet, his only wife, the +younger, Lewis, for whom he wrote the Treatise on the +Astrolabe, died young. The elder, Thomas, married Maud, the +second daughter and co-heiress of Sir John Burghersh, brother +of the Bishop of Lincoln, the Chancellor and Treasurer of +England. By this marriage Thomas Chaucer acquired great +estates in Oxfordshire and elsewhere; and he figured +prominently in the second rank of courtiers for many years. He +was Chief Butler to Richard II.; under Henry IV. he was +Constable of Wallingford Castle, Steward of the Honours of +Wallingford and St Valery, and of the Chiltern Hundreds; and +the queen of Henry IV. granted him the farm of several of her +manors, a grant subsequently confirmed to him for life by the +King, after the Queen’s death. He sat in Parliament repeatedly +for Oxfordshire, was Speaker in 1414, and in the same year +went to France as commissioner to negotiate the marriage of +Henry V. with the Princess Katherine. He held, before he died +in 1434, various other posts of trust and distinction; but he left +no heirs-male. His only child, Alice Chaucer, married twice; +first Sir John Philip; and afterwards the Duke of Suffolk — +attainted and beheaded in 1450. She had three children by the +Duke; and her eldest son married the Princess Elizabeth, sister +of Edward IV. The eldest son of this marriage, created Earl of +Lincoln, was declared by Richard III heir-apparent to the +throne, in case the Prince of Wales should die without issue; but +the death of Lincoln himself, at the battle of Stoke in 1487, +destroyed all prospect that the poet’s descendants might +succeed to the crown of England; and his family is now believed +to be extinct. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +13. “Geoffrey Chaucer, bard, and famous mother of poetry, is +buried in this sacred ground.” +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +14. Railings. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +15 Translation of the epitaph: This tomb was built for Geoffrey +Chaucer, who in his time was the greatest poet of the English. If +you ask the year of his death, behold the words beneath, which +tell you all. Death gave him rest from his toil, 25th of October +1400. N Brigham bore the cost of these words in the name of +the Muses. 1556. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +16. See the Prologue to Chaucer’s Tale of Sir Thopas. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +17. See the “Goodly Ballad of Chaucer,” seventh stanza. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +18. See the opening of the Prologue to “The Legend of Good +Women,” and the poet’s account of his habits in “The House of +Fame”. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap03"></a>THE CANTERBURY TALES.</h2> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap04"></a>THE PROLOGUE.</h2> + +<p> +WHEN that Aprilis, with his showers swoot*, *sweet<br/> +The drought of March hath pierced to the root,<br/> +And bathed every vein in such licour,<br/> +Of which virtue engender’d is the flower;<br/> +When Zephyrus eke with his swoote breath<br/> +Inspired hath in every holt* and heath *grove, forest<br/> +The tender croppes* and the younge sun *twigs, boughs<br/> +Hath in the Ram <1> his halfe course y-run,<br/> +And smalle fowles make melody,<br/> +That sleepen all the night with open eye,<br/> +(So pricketh them nature in their corages*); *hearts, inclinations<br/> +Then longe folk to go on pilgrimages,<br/> +And palmers <2> for to seeke strange strands,<br/> +To *ferne hallows couth* in sundry lands; *distant saints known*<3><br/> +And specially, from every shire’s end<br/> +Of Engleland, to Canterbury they wend,<br/> +The holy blissful Martyr for to seek,<br/> +That them hath holpen*, when that they were sick. *helped +</p> + +<p> +Befell that, in that season on a day,<br/> +In Southwark at the Tabard <4> as I lay,<br/> +Ready to wenden on my pilgrimage<br/> +To Canterbury with devout corage,<br/> +At night was come into that hostelry<br/> +Well nine and twenty in a company<br/> +Of sundry folk, *by aventure y-fall *who had by chance fallen<br/> +In fellowship*, and pilgrims were they all, into company.* <5><br/> +That toward Canterbury woulde ride.<br/> +The chamber, and the stables were wide,<br/> +And *well we weren eased at the best.* *we were well provided<br/> +And shortly, when the sunne was to rest, with the best*<br/> +So had I spoken with them every one,<br/> +That I was of their fellowship anon,<br/> +And made forword* early for to rise, *promise<br/> +To take our way there as I you devise*. *describe, relate +</p> + +<p> +But natheless, while I have time and space,<br/> +Ere that I farther in this tale pace,<br/> +Me thinketh it accordant to reason,<br/> +To tell you alle the condition<br/> +Of each of them, so as it seemed me,<br/> +And which they weren, and of what degree;<br/> +And eke in what array that they were in:<br/> +And at a Knight then will I first begin. +</p> + +<p> +A KNIGHT there was, and that a worthy man,<br/> +That from the time that he first began<br/> +To riden out, he loved chivalry,<br/> +Truth and honour, freedom and courtesy.<br/> +Full worthy was he in his Lorde’s war,<br/> +And thereto had he ridden, no man farre*, *farther<br/> +As well in Christendom as in Heatheness,<br/> +And ever honour’d for his worthiness<br/> +At Alisandre <6> he was when it was won.<br/> +Full often time he had the board begun<br/> +Above alle nations in Prusse.<7><br/> +In Lettowe had he reysed,* and in Russe, *journeyed<br/> +No Christian man so oft of his degree.<br/> +In Grenade at the siege eke had he be<br/> +Of Algesir, and ridden in Belmarie. <8><br/> +At Leyes was he, and at Satalie,<br/> +When they were won; and in the Greate Sea<br/> +At many a noble army had he be.<br/> +At mortal battles had he been fifteen,<br/> +And foughten for our faith at Tramissene.<br/> +In listes thries, and aye slain his foe.<br/> +This ilke* worthy knight had been also *same <9><br/> +Some time with the lord of Palatie,<br/> +Against another heathen in Turkie:<br/> +And evermore *he had a sovereign price*. *He was held in very<br/> +And though that he was worthy he was wise, high esteem.*<br/> +And of his port as meek as is a maid.<br/> +He never yet no villainy ne said<br/> +In all his life, unto no manner wight.<br/> +He was a very perfect gentle knight.<br/> +But for to telle you of his array,<br/> +His horse was good, but yet he was not gay.<br/> +Of fustian he weared a gipon*, *short doublet<br/> +Alle *besmotter’d with his habergeon,* *soiled by his coat of mail.*<br/> +For he was late y-come from his voyage,<br/> +And wente for to do his pilgrimage. +</p> + +<p> +With him there was his son, a younge SQUIRE,<br/> +A lover, and a lusty bacheler,<br/> +With lockes crulle* as they were laid in press. *curled<br/> +Of twenty year of age he was I guess.<br/> +Of his stature he was of even length,<br/> +And *wonderly deliver*, and great of strength. *wonderfully nimble*<br/> +And he had been some time in chevachie*, *cavalry raids<br/> +In Flanders, in Artois, and Picardie,<br/> +And borne him well, *as of so little space*, *in such a short time*<br/> +In hope to standen in his lady’s grace.<br/> +Embroider’d was he, as it were a mead<br/> +All full of freshe flowers, white and red.<br/> +Singing he was, or fluting all the day;<br/> +He was as fresh as is the month of May.<br/> +Short was his gown, with sleeves long and wide.<br/> +Well could he sit on horse, and faire ride.<br/> +He coulde songes make, and well indite,<br/> +Joust, and eke dance, and well pourtray and write.<br/> +So hot he loved, that by nightertale* *night-time<br/> +He slept no more than doth the nightingale.<br/> +Courteous he was, lowly, and serviceable,<br/> +And carv’d before his father at the table.<10> +</p> + +<p> +A YEOMAN had he, and servants no mo’<br/> +At that time, for *him list ride so* *it pleased him so to ride*<br/> +And he was clad in coat and hood of green.<br/> +A sheaf of peacock arrows<11> bright and keen<br/> +Under his belt he bare full thriftily.<br/> +Well could he dress his tackle yeomanly:<br/> +His arrows drooped not with feathers low;<br/> +And in his hand he bare a mighty bow.<br/> +A nut-head <12> had he, with a brown visiage:<br/> +Of wood-craft coud* he well all the usage: *knew<br/> +Upon his arm he bare a gay bracer*, *small shield<br/> +And by his side a sword and a buckler,<br/> +And on that other side a gay daggere,<br/> +Harnessed well, and sharp as point of spear:<br/> +A Christopher on his breast of silver sheen.<br/> +An horn he bare, the baldric was of green:<br/> +A forester was he soothly* as I guess. *certainly +</p> + +<p> +There was also a Nun, a PRIORESS,<br/> +That of her smiling was full simple and coy;<br/> +Her greatest oathe was but by Saint Loy;<br/> +And she was cleped* Madame Eglentine. *called<br/> +Full well she sang the service divine,<br/> +Entuned in her nose full seemly;<br/> +And French she spake full fair and fetisly* *properly<br/> +After the school of Stratford atte Bow,<br/> +For French of Paris was to her unknow.<br/> +At meate was she well y-taught withal;<br/> +She let no morsel from her lippes fall,<br/> +Nor wet her fingers in her sauce deep.<br/> +Well could she carry a morsel, and well keep,<br/> +That no droppe ne fell upon her breast.<br/> +In courtesy was set full much her lest*. *pleasure<br/> +Her over-lippe wiped she so clean,<br/> +That in her cup there was no farthing* seen *speck<br/> +Of grease, when she drunken had her draught;<br/> +Full seemely after her meat she raught*: *reached out her hand<br/> +And *sickerly she was of great disport*, *surely she was of a lively<br/> +And full pleasant, and amiable of port, disposition*<br/> +And *pained her to counterfeite cheer *took pains to assume<br/> +Of court,* and be estately of mannere, a courtly disposition*<br/> +And to be holden digne* of reverence. *worthy<br/> +But for to speaken of her conscience,<br/> +She was so charitable and so pitous,* *full of pity<br/> +She woulde weep if that she saw a mouse<br/> +Caught in a trap, if it were dead or bled.<br/> +Of smalle houndes had she, that she fed<br/> +With roasted flesh, and milk, and *wastel bread.* *finest white bread*<br/> +But sore she wept if one of them were dead,<br/> +Or if men smote it with a yarde* smart: *staff<br/> +And all was conscience and tender heart.<br/> +Full seemly her wimple y-pinched was;<br/> +Her nose tretis;* her eyen gray as glass;<13> *well-formed<br/> +Her mouth full small, and thereto soft and red;<br/> +But sickerly she had a fair forehead.<br/> +It was almost a spanne broad I trow;<br/> +For *hardily she was not undergrow*. *certainly she was not small*<br/> +Full fetis* was her cloak, as I was ware. *neat<br/> +Of small coral about her arm she bare<br/> +A pair of beades, gauded all with green;<br/> +And thereon hung a brooch of gold full sheen,<br/> +On which was first y-written a crown’d A,<br/> +And after, *Amor vincit omnia.* *love conquers all*<br/> +Another Nun also with her had she,<br/> +[That was her chapelleine, and PRIESTES three.] +</p> + +<p> +A MONK there was, a fair *for the mast’ry*, *above all others*<14><br/> +An out-rider, that loved venery*; *hunting<br/> +A manly man, to be an abbot able.<br/> +Full many a dainty horse had he in stable:<br/> +And when he rode, men might his bridle hear<br/> +Jingeling <15> in a whistling wind as clear,<br/> +And eke as loud, as doth the chapel bell,<br/> +There as this lord was keeper of the cell.<br/> +The rule of Saint Maur and of Saint Benet, <16><br/> +Because that it was old and somedeal strait<br/> +This ilke* monk let olde thinges pace, *same<br/> +And held after the newe world the trace.<br/> +He *gave not of the text a pulled hen,* *he cared nothing<br/> +That saith, that hunters be not holy men: for the text*<br/> +Ne that a monk, when he is cloisterless;<br/> +Is like to a fish that is waterless;<br/> +This is to say, a monk out of his cloister.<br/> +This ilke text held he not worth an oyster;<br/> +And I say his opinion was good.<br/> +Why should he study, and make himselfe wood* *mad <17><br/> +Upon a book in cloister always pore,<br/> +Or swinken* with his handes, and labour, *toil<br/> +As Austin bid? how shall the world be served?<br/> +Let Austin have his swink to him reserved.<br/> +Therefore he was a prickasour* aright: *hard rider<br/> +Greyhounds he had as swift as fowl of flight;<br/> +Of pricking* and of hunting for the hare *riding<br/> +Was all his lust,* for no cost would he spare. *pleasure<br/> + I saw his sleeves *purfil’d at the hand *worked at the end with a<br/> +With gris,* and that the finest of the land. fur called “gris”*<br/> +And for to fasten his hood under his chin,<br/> +He had of gold y-wrought a curious pin;<br/> +A love-knot in the greater end there was.<br/> +His head was bald, and shone as any glass,<br/> +And eke his face, as it had been anoint;<br/> +He was a lord full fat and in good point;<br/> +His eyen steep,* and rolling in his head, *deep-set<br/> +That steamed as a furnace of a lead.<br/> +His bootes supple, his horse in great estate,<br/> +Now certainly he was a fair prelate;<br/> +He was not pale as a forpined* ghost; *wasted<br/> +A fat swan lov’d he best of any roast.<br/> +His palfrey was as brown as is a berry. +</p> + +<p> +A FRIAR there was, a wanton and a merry,<br/> +A limitour <18>, a full solemne man.<br/> +In all the orders four is none that can* *knows<br/> +So much of dalliance and fair language.<br/> +He had y-made full many a marriage<br/> +Of younge women, at his owen cost.<br/> +Unto his order he was a noble post;<br/> +Full well belov’d, and familiar was he<br/> +With franklins *over all* in his country, *everywhere*<br/> +And eke with worthy women of the town:<br/> +For he had power of confession,<br/> +As said himselfe, more than a curate,<br/> +For of his order he was licentiate.<br/> +Full sweetely heard he confession,<br/> +And pleasant was his absolution.<br/> +He was an easy man to give penance,<br/> +*There as he wist to have a good pittance:* *where he know he would<br/> +For unto a poor order for to give get good payment*<br/> +Is signe that a man is well y-shrive.<br/> +For if he gave, he *durste make avant*, *dared to boast*<br/> +He wiste* that the man was repentant. *knew<br/> +For many a man so hard is of his heart,<br/> +He may not weep although him sore smart.<br/> +Therefore instead of weeping and prayeres,<br/> +Men must give silver to the poore freres.<br/> +His tippet was aye farsed* full of knives *stuffed<br/> +And pinnes, for to give to faire wives;<br/> +And certainly he had a merry note:<br/> +Well could he sing and playen *on a rote*; *from memory*<br/> +Of yeddings* he bare utterly the prize. *songs<br/> +His neck was white as is the fleur-de-lis.<br/> +Thereto he strong was as a champion,<br/> +And knew well the taverns in every town.<br/> +And every hosteler and gay tapstere,<br/> +Better than a lazar* or a beggere, *leper<br/> +For unto such a worthy man as he<br/> +Accordeth not, as by his faculty,<br/> +To have with such lazars acquaintance.<br/> +It is not honest, it may not advance,<br/> +As for to deale with no such pouraille*, *offal, refuse<br/> +But all with rich, and sellers of vitaille*. *victuals<br/> +And *ov’r all there as* profit should arise, *in every place where&<br/> +Courteous he was, and lowly of service;<br/> +There n’as no man nowhere so virtuous.<br/> +He was the beste beggar in all his house:<br/> +And gave a certain farme for the grant, <19><br/> +None of his bretheren came in his haunt.<br/> +For though a widow hadde but one shoe,<br/> +So pleasant was his In Principio,<20><br/> +Yet would he have a farthing ere he went;<br/> +His purchase was well better than his rent.<br/> +And rage he could and play as any whelp,<br/> +In lovedays <21>; there could he muchel* help. *greatly<br/> +For there was he not like a cloisterer,<br/> +With threadbare cope as is a poor scholer;<br/> +But he was like a master or a pope.<br/> +Of double worsted was his semicope*, *short cloak<br/> +That rounded was as a bell out of press.<br/> +Somewhat he lisped for his wantonness,<br/> +To make his English sweet upon his tongue;<br/> +And in his harping, when that he had sung,<br/> +His eyen* twinkled in his head aright, *eyes<br/> +As do the starres in a frosty night.<br/> +This worthy limitour <18> was call’d Huberd. +</p> + +<p> +A MERCHANT was there with a forked beard,<br/> +In motley, and high on his horse he sat,<br/> +Upon his head a Flandrish beaver hat.<br/> +His bootes clasped fair and fetisly*. *neatly<br/> +His reasons aye spake he full solemnly,<br/> +Sounding alway th’ increase of his winning.<br/> +He would the sea were kept <22> for any thing<br/> +Betwixte Middleburg and Orewell<23><br/> +Well could he in exchange shieldes* sell *crown coins <24><br/> +This worthy man full well his wit beset*; *employed<br/> +There wiste* no wight** that he was in debt, *knew **man<br/> +So *estately was he of governance* *so well he managed*<br/> +With his bargains, and with his chevisance*. *business contract<br/> +For sooth he was a worthy man withal,<br/> +But sooth to say, I n’ot* how men him call. *know not +</p> + +<p> +A CLERK there was of Oxenford* also, *Oxford<br/> +That unto logic hadde long y-go*. *devoted himself<br/> +As leane was his horse as is a rake,<br/> +And he was not right fat, I undertake;<br/> +But looked hollow*, and thereto soberly**. *thin; **poorly<br/> +Full threadbare was his *overest courtepy*, *uppermost short cloak*<br/> +For he had gotten him yet no benefice,<br/> +Ne was not worldly, to have an office.<br/> +For him was lever* have at his bed’s head *rather<br/> +Twenty bookes, clothed in black or red,<br/> +Of Aristotle, and his philosophy,<br/> +Than robes rich, or fiddle, or psalt’ry.<br/> +But all be that he was a philosopher,<br/> +Yet hadde he but little gold in coffer,<br/> +But all that he might of his friendes hent*, *obtain<br/> +On bookes and on learning he it spent,<br/> +And busily gan for the soules pray<br/> +Of them that gave him <25> wherewith to scholay* *study<br/> +Of study took he moste care and heed.<br/> +Not one word spake he more than was need;<br/> +And that was said in form and reverence,<br/> +And short and quick, and full of high sentence.<br/> +Sounding in moral virtue was his speech,<br/> +And gladly would he learn, and gladly teach. +</p> + +<p> +A SERGEANT OF THE LAW, wary and wise,<br/> +That often had y-been at the Parvis, <26><br/> +There was also, full rich of excellence.<br/> +Discreet he was, and of great reverence:<br/> +He seemed such, his wordes were so wise,<br/> +Justice he was full often in assize,<br/> +By patent, and by plein* commission; *full<br/> +For his science, and for his high renown,<br/> +Of fees and robes had he many one.<br/> +So great a purchaser was nowhere none.<br/> +All was fee simple to him, in effect<br/> +His purchasing might not be in suspect* *suspicion<br/> +Nowhere so busy a man as he there was<br/> +And yet he seemed busier than he was<br/> +In termes had he case’ and doomes* all *judgements<br/> +That from the time of King Will. were fall.<br/> +Thereto he could indite, and make a thing<br/> +There coulde no wight *pinch at* his writing. *find fault with*<br/> +And every statute coud* he plain by rote *knew<br/> +He rode but homely in a medley* coat, *multicoloured<br/> +Girt with a seint* of silk, with barres small; *sash<br/> +Of his array tell I no longer tale. +</p> + +<p> +A FRANKELIN* was in this company; *Rich landowner<br/> +White was his beard, as is the daisy.<br/> +Of his complexion he was sanguine.<br/> +Well lov’d he in the morn a sop in wine.<br/> +To liven in delight was ever his won*, *wont<br/> +For he was Epicurus’ owen son,<br/> +That held opinion, that plein* delight *full<br/> +Was verily felicity perfite.<br/> +An householder, and that a great, was he;<br/> +Saint Julian<27> he was in his country.<br/> +His bread, his ale, was alway *after one*; *pressed on one*<br/> +A better envined* man was nowhere none; *stored with wine<br/> +Withoute bake-meat never was his house,<br/> +Of fish and flesh, and that so plenteous,<br/> +It snowed in his house of meat and drink,<br/> +Of alle dainties that men coulde think.<br/> +After the sundry seasons of the year,<br/> +So changed he his meat and his soupere.<br/> +Full many a fat partridge had he in mew*, *cage <28><br/> +And many a bream, and many a luce* in stew**<29> *pike **fish-pond<br/> +Woe was his cook, *but if* his sauce were *unless*<br/> +Poignant and sharp, and ready all his gear.<br/> +His table dormant* in his hall alway *fixed<br/> +Stood ready cover’d all the longe day.<br/> +At sessions there was he lord and sire.<br/> +Full often time he was *knight of the shire* *Member of Parliament*<br/> +An anlace*, and a gipciere** all of silk, *dagger **purse<br/> +Hung at his girdle, white as morning milk.<br/> +A sheriff had he been, and a countour<30><br/> +Was nowhere such a worthy vavasour<31>. +</p> + +<p> + An HABERDASHER, and a CARPENTER,<br/> +A WEBBE*, a DYER, and a TAPISER**, *weaver **tapestry-maker<br/> +Were with us eke, cloth’d in one livery,<br/> +Of a solemn and great fraternity.<br/> +Full fresh and new their gear y-picked* was. *spruce<br/> +Their knives were y-chaped* not with brass, *mounted<br/> +But all with silver wrought full clean and well,<br/> +Their girdles and their pouches *every deal*. *in every part*<br/> +Well seemed each of them a fair burgess,<br/> +To sitten in a guild-hall, on the dais. <32><br/> +Evereach, for the wisdom that he can*, *knew<br/> +Was shapely* for to be an alderman. *fitted<br/> +For chattels hadde they enough and rent,<br/> +And eke their wives would it well assent:<br/> +And elles certain they had been to blame.<br/> +It is full fair to be y-clep’d madame,<br/> +And for to go to vigils all before,<br/> +And have a mantle royally y-bore.<33> +</p> + +<p> +A COOK they hadde with them for the nones*, *occasion<br/> +To boil the chickens and the marrow bones,<br/> +And powder merchant tart and galingale.<br/> +Well could he know a draught of London ale.<br/> +He could roast, and stew, and broil, and fry,<br/> +Make mortrewes, and well bake a pie.<br/> +But great harm was it, as it thoughte me,<br/> +That, on his shin a mormal* hadde he. *ulcer<br/> +For blanc manger, that made he with the best <34> +</p> + +<p> +A SHIPMAN was there, *wonned far by West*: *who dwelt far<br/> +For ought I wot, be was of Dartemouth. to the West*<br/> +He rode upon a rouncy*, as he couth, *hack<br/> +All in a gown of falding* to the knee. *coarse cloth<br/> +A dagger hanging by a lace had he<br/> +About his neck under his arm adown;<br/> +The hot summer had made his hue all brown;<br/> +And certainly he was a good fellaw.<br/> +Full many a draught of wine he had y-draw<br/> +From Bourdeaux-ward, while that the chapmen sleep;<br/> +Of nice conscience took he no keep.<br/> +If that he fought, and had the higher hand,<br/> +*By water he sent them home to every land.* *he drowned his<br/> +But of his craft to reckon well his tides, prisoners*<br/> +His streames and his strandes him besides,<br/> +His herberow*, his moon, and lodemanage**, *harbourage<br/> +There was none such, from Hull unto Carthage **pilotage<35><br/> +Hardy he was, and wise, I undertake:<br/> +With many a tempest had his beard been shake.<br/> +He knew well all the havens, as they were,<br/> +From Scotland to the Cape of Finisterre,<br/> +And every creek in Bretagne and in Spain:<br/> +His barge y-cleped was the Magdelain. +</p> + +<p> +With us there was a DOCTOR OF PHYSIC;<br/> +In all this worlde was there none him like<br/> +To speak of physic, and of surgery:<br/> +For he was grounded in astronomy.<br/> +He kept his patient a full great deal<br/> +In houres by his magic natural.<br/> +Well could he fortune* the ascendent *make fortunate<br/> +Of his images for his patient,.<br/> +He knew the cause of every malady,<br/> +Were it of cold, or hot, or moist, or dry,<br/> +And where engender’d, and of what humour.<br/> +He was a very perfect practisour<br/> +The cause y-know,* and of his harm the root, *known<br/> +Anon he gave to the sick man his boot* *remedy<br/> +Full ready had he his apothecaries,<br/> +To send his drugges and his lectuaries<br/> +For each of them made other for to win<br/> +Their friendship was not newe to begin<br/> +Well knew he the old Esculapius,<br/> +And Dioscorides, and eke Rufus;<br/> +Old Hippocras, Hali, and Gallien;<br/> +Serapion, Rasis, and Avicen;<br/> +Averrois, Damascene, and Constantin;<br/> +Bernard, and Gatisden, and Gilbertin. <36><br/> +Of his diet measurable was he,<br/> +For it was of no superfluity,<br/> +But of great nourishing, and digestible.<br/> +His study was but little on the Bible.<br/> +In sanguine* and in perse** he clad was all *red **blue<br/> +Lined with taffeta, and with sendall*. *fine silk<br/> +And yet *he was but easy of dispense*: *he spent very little*<br/> +He kept *that he won in the pestilence*. *the money he made<br/> +For gold in physic is a cordial; during the plague*<br/> +Therefore he loved gold in special. +</p> + +<p> +A good WIFE was there OF beside BATH,<br/> +But she was somedeal deaf, and that was scath*. *damage; pity<br/> +Of cloth-making she hadde such an haunt*, *skill<br/> +She passed them of Ypres, and of Gaunt. <37><br/> +In all the parish wife was there none,<br/> +That to the off’ring* before her should gon, *the offering at mass<br/> +And if there did, certain so wroth was she,<br/> +That she was out of alle charity<br/> +Her coverchiefs* were full fine of ground *head-dresses<br/> +I durste swear, they weighede ten pound <38><br/> +That on the Sunday were upon her head.<br/> +Her hosen weren of fine scarlet red,<br/> +Full strait y-tied, and shoes full moist* and new *fresh <39><br/> +Bold was her face, and fair and red of hue.<br/> +She was a worthy woman all her live,<br/> +Husbands at the church door had she had five,<br/> +Withouten other company in youth;<br/> +But thereof needeth not to speak as nouth*. *now<br/> +And thrice had she been at Jerusalem;<br/> +She hadde passed many a strange stream<br/> +At Rome she had been, and at Bologne,<br/> +In Galice at Saint James, <40> and at Cologne;<br/> +She coude* much of wand’rng by the Way. *knew<br/> +Gat-toothed* was she, soothly for to say. *Buck-toothed<41><br/> +Upon an ambler easily she sat,<br/> +Y-wimpled well, and on her head an hat<br/> +As broad as is a buckler or a targe.<br/> +A foot-mantle about her hippes large,<br/> +And on her feet a pair of spurres sharp.<br/> +In fellowship well could she laugh and carp* *jest, talk<br/> +Of remedies of love she knew perchance<br/> +For of that art she coud* the olde dance. *knew +</p> + +<p> +A good man there was of religion,<br/> +That was a poore PARSON of a town:<br/> +But rich he was of holy thought and werk*. *work<br/> +He was also a learned man, a clerk,<br/> +That Christe’s gospel truly woulde preach.<br/> +His parishens* devoutly would he teach. *parishioners<br/> +Benign he was, and wonder diligent,<br/> +And in adversity full patient:<br/> +And such he was y-proved *often sithes*. *oftentimes*<br/> +Full loth were him to curse for his tithes,<br/> +But rather would he given out of doubt,<br/> +Unto his poore parishens about,<br/> +Of his off’ring, and eke of his substance.<br/> +*He could in little thing have suffisance*. *he was satisfied with<br/> +Wide was his parish, and houses far asunder, very little*<br/> +But he ne left not, for no rain nor thunder,<br/> +In sickness and in mischief to visit<br/> +The farthest in his parish, *much and lit*, *great and small*<br/> +Upon his feet, and in his hand a staff.<br/> +This noble ensample to his sheep he gaf*, *gave<br/> +That first he wrought, and afterward he taught.<br/> +Out of the gospel he the wordes caught,<br/> +And this figure he added yet thereto,<br/> +That if gold ruste, what should iron do?<br/> +For if a priest be foul, on whom we trust,<br/> +No wonder is a lewed* man to rust: *unlearned<br/> +And shame it is, if that a priest take keep,<br/> +To see a shitten shepherd and clean sheep:<br/> +Well ought a priest ensample for to give,<br/> +By his own cleanness, how his sheep should live.<br/> +He sette not his benefice to hire,<br/> +And left his sheep eucumber’d in the mire,<br/> +And ran unto London, unto Saint Paul’s,<br/> +To seeke him a chantery<42> for souls,<br/> +Or with a brotherhood to be withold:* *detained<br/> +But dwelt at home, and kepte well his fold,<br/> +So that the wolf ne made it not miscarry.<br/> +He was a shepherd, and no mercenary.<br/> +And though he holy were, and virtuous,<br/> +He was to sinful men not dispitous* *severe<br/> +Nor of his speeche dangerous nor dign* *disdainful<br/> +But in his teaching discreet and benign.<br/> +To drawen folk to heaven, with fairness,<br/> +By good ensample, was his business:<br/> +*But it were* any person obstinate, *but if it were*<br/> +What so he were of high or low estate,<br/> +Him would he snibbe* sharply for the nones**. *reprove **nonce,occasion<br/> +A better priest I trow that nowhere none is.<br/> +He waited after no pomp nor reverence,<br/> +Nor maked him a *spiced conscience*, *artificial conscience*<br/> +But Christe’s lore, and his apostles’ twelve,<br/> +He taught, and first he follow’d it himselve. +</p> + +<p> +With him there was a PLOUGHMAN, was his brother,<br/> +That had y-laid of dung full many a fother*. *ton<br/> +A true swinker* and a good was he, *hard worker<br/> +Living in peace and perfect charity.<br/> +God loved he beste with all his heart<br/> +At alle times, were it gain or smart*, *pain, loss<br/> +And then his neighebour right as himselve.<br/> +He woulde thresh, and thereto dike*, and delve, *dig ditches<br/> +For Christe’s sake, for every poore wight,<br/> +Withouten hire, if it lay in his might.<br/> +His tithes payed he full fair and well,<br/> +Both of his *proper swink*, and his chattel** *his own labour* **goods<br/> +In a tabard* he rode upon a mare. *sleeveless jerkin +</p> + +<p> +There was also a Reeve, and a Millere,<br/> +A Sompnour, and a Pardoner also,<br/> +A Manciple, and myself, there were no mo’. +</p> + +<p> +The MILLER was a stout carle for the nones,<br/> +Full big he was of brawn, and eke of bones;<br/> +That proved well, for *ov’r all where* he came, *wheresoever*<br/> +At wrestling he would bear away the ram.<43><br/> +He was short-shouldered, broad, a thicke gnarr*, *stump of wood<br/> +There was no door, that he n’old* heave off bar, *could not<br/> +Or break it at a running with his head.<br/> +His beard as any sow or fox was red,<br/> +And thereto broad, as though it were a spade.<br/> +Upon the cop* right of his nose he had *head <44><br/> +A wart, and thereon stood a tuft of hairs<br/> +Red as the bristles of a sowe’s ears.<br/> +His nose-thirles* blacke were and wide. *nostrils <45><br/> +A sword and buckler bare he by his side.<br/> +His mouth as wide was as a furnace.<br/> +He was a jangler, and a goliardais*, *buffoon <46><br/> +And that was most of sin and harlotries.<br/> +Well could he steale corn, and tolle thrice<br/> +And yet he had a thumb of gold, pardie.<47><br/> +A white coat and a blue hood weared he<br/> +A baggepipe well could he blow and soun’,<br/> +And therewithal he brought us out of town. +</p> + +<p> +A gentle MANCIPLE <48> was there of a temple,<br/> +Of which achatours* mighte take ensample *buyers<br/> +For to be wise in buying of vitaille*. *victuals<br/> +For whether that he paid, or took *by taile*, *on credit<br/> +Algate* he waited so in his achate**, *always **purchase<br/> +That he was aye before in good estate.<br/> +Now is not that of God a full fair grace<br/> +That such a lewed* mannes wit shall pace** *unlearned **surpass<br/> +The wisdom of an heap of learned men?<br/> +Of masters had he more than thries ten,<br/> +That were of law expert and curious:<br/> +Of which there was a dozen in that house,<br/> +Worthy to be stewards of rent and land<br/> +Of any lord that is in Engleland,<br/> +To make him live by his proper good,<br/> +In honour debtless, *but if he were wood*, *unless he were mad*<br/> +Or live as scarcely as him list desire;<br/> +And able for to helpen all a shire<br/> +In any case that mighte fall or hap;<br/> +And yet this Manciple *set their aller cap* *outwitted them all* +</p> + +<p> +The REEVE <49> was a slender choleric man<br/> +His beard was shav’d as nigh as ever he can.<br/> +His hair was by his eares round y-shorn;<br/> +His top was docked like a priest beforn<br/> +Full longe were his legges, and full lean<br/> +Y-like a staff, there was no calf y-seen<br/> +Well could he keep a garner* and a bin* *storeplaces for grain<br/> +There was no auditor could on him win<br/> +Well wist he by the drought, and by the rain,<br/> +The yielding of his seed and of his grain<br/> +His lorde’s sheep, his neat*, and his dairy *cattle<br/> +His swine, his horse, his store, and his poultry,<br/> +Were wholly in this Reeve’s governing,<br/> +And by his cov’nant gave he reckoning,<br/> +Since that his lord was twenty year of age;<br/> +There could no man bring him in arrearage<br/> +There was no bailiff, herd, nor other hine* *servant<br/> +That he ne knew his *sleight and his covine* *tricks and cheating*<br/> +They were adrad* of him, as of the death *in dread<br/> +His wonning* was full fair upon an heath *abode<br/> +With greene trees y-shadow’d was his place.<br/> +He coulde better than his lord purchase<br/> +Full rich he was y-stored privily<br/> +His lord well could he please subtilly,<br/> +To give and lend him of his owen good,<br/> +And have a thank, and yet* a coat and hood. *also<br/> +In youth he learned had a good mistere* *trade<br/> +He was a well good wright, a carpentere<br/> +This Reeve sate upon a right good stot*, *steed<br/> +That was all pomely* gray, and highte** Scot. *dappled **called<br/> +A long surcoat of perse* upon he had, *sky-blue<br/> +And by his side he bare a rusty blade.<br/> +Of Norfolk was this Reeve, of which I tell,<br/> +Beside a town men clepen* Baldeswell, *call<br/> +Tucked he was, as is a friar, about,<br/> +And ever rode the *hinderest of the rout*. *hindmost of the group* +</p> + +<p> +A SOMPNOUR* was there with us in that place, *summoner <50><br/> +That had a fire-red cherubinnes face,<br/> +For sausefleme* he was, with eyen narrow. *red or pimply<br/> +As hot he was and lecherous as a sparrow,<br/> +With scalled browes black, and pilled* beard: *scanty<br/> +Of his visage children were sore afeard.<br/> +There n’as quicksilver, litharge, nor brimstone,<br/> +Boras, ceruse, nor oil of tartar none,<br/> +Nor ointement that woulde cleanse or bite,<br/> +That him might helpen of his whelkes* white, *pustules<br/> +Nor of the knobbes* sitting on his cheeks. *buttons<br/> +Well lov’d he garlic, onions, and leeks,<br/> +And for to drink strong wine as red as blood.<br/> +Then would he speak, and cry as he were wood;<br/> +And when that he well drunken had the wine,<br/> +Then would he speake no word but Latin.<br/> +A fewe termes knew he, two or three,<br/> +That he had learned out of some decree;<br/> +No wonder is, he heard it all the day.<br/> +And eke ye knowen well, how that a jay<br/> +Can clepen* “Wat,” as well as can the Pope. *call<br/> +But whoso would in other thing him grope*, *search<br/> +Then had he spent all his philosophy,<br/> +Aye, Questio quid juris,<51> would he cry. +</p> + +<p> +He was a gentle harlot* and a kind; *a low fellow<52><br/> +A better fellow should a man not find.<br/> +He woulde suffer, for a quart of wine,<br/> +A good fellow to have his concubine<br/> +A twelvemonth, and excuse him at the full.<br/> +Full privily a *finch eke could he pull*. *“fleece” a man*<br/> +And if he found owhere* a good fellaw, *anywhere<br/> +He woulde teache him to have none awe<br/> +In such a case of the archdeacon’s curse;<br/> +*But if* a manne’s soul were in his purse; *unless*<br/> +For in his purse he should y-punished be.<br/> +“Purse is the archedeacon’s hell,” said he.<br/> +But well I wot, he lied right indeed:<br/> +Of cursing ought each guilty man to dread,<br/> +For curse will slay right as assoiling* saveth; *absolving<br/> +And also ’ware him of a significavit<53>.<br/> +In danger had he at his owen guise<br/> +The younge girles of the diocese, <54><br/> +And knew their counsel, and was of their rede*. *counsel<br/> +A garland had he set upon his head,<br/> +As great as it were for an alestake*: *The post of an alehouse sign<br/> +A buckler had he made him of a cake. +</p> + +<p> +With him there rode a gentle PARDONERE <55><br/> +Of Ronceval, his friend and his compere,<br/> +That straight was comen from the court of Rome.<br/> +Full loud he sang, “Come hither, love, to me”<br/> +This Sompnour *bare to him a stiff burdoun*, *sang the bass*<br/> +Was never trump of half so great a soun’.<br/> +This Pardoner had hair as yellow as wax,<br/> +But smooth it hung, as doth a strike* of flax: *strip<br/> +By ounces hung his lockes that he had,<br/> +And therewith he his shoulders oversprad.<br/> +Full thin it lay, by culpons* one and one, *locks, shreds<br/> +But hood for jollity, he weared none,<br/> +For it was trussed up in his wallet.<br/> +Him thought he rode all of the *newe get*, *latest fashion*<56><br/> +Dishevel, save his cap, he rode all bare.<br/> +Such glaring eyen had he, as an hare.<br/> +A vernicle* had he sew’d upon his cap. *image of Christ <57><br/> +His wallet lay before him in his lap,<br/> +Bretful* of pardon come from Rome all hot. *brimful<br/> +A voice he had as small as hath a goat.<br/> +No beard had he, nor ever one should have.<br/> +As smooth it was as it were new y-shave;<br/> +I trow he were a gelding or a mare.<br/> +But of his craft, from Berwick unto Ware,<br/> +Ne was there such another pardonere.<br/> +For in his mail* he had a pillowbere**, *bag <58> **pillowcase<br/> +Which, as he saide, was our Lady’s veil:<br/> +He said, he had a gobbet* of the sail *piece<br/> +That Sainte Peter had, when that he went<br/> +Upon the sea, till Jesus Christ him hent*. *took hold of<br/> +He had a cross of latoun* full of stones, *copper<br/> +And in a glass he hadde pigge’s bones.<br/> +But with these relics, whenne that he fond<br/> +A poore parson dwelling upon lond,<br/> +Upon a day he got him more money<br/> +Than that the parson got in moneths tway;<br/> +And thus with feigned flattering and japes*, *jests<br/> +He made the parson and the people his apes.<br/> +But truely to tellen at the last,<br/> +He was in church a noble ecclesiast.<br/> +Well could he read a lesson or a story,<br/> +But alderbest* he sang an offertory: *best of all<br/> +For well he wiste, when that song was sung,<br/> +He muste preach, and well afile* his tongue, *polish<br/> +To winne silver, as he right well could:<br/> +Therefore he sang full merrily and loud. +</p> + +<p> +Now have I told you shortly in a clause<br/> +Th’ estate, th’ array, the number, and eke the cause<br/> +Why that assembled was this company<br/> +In Southwark at this gentle hostelry,<br/> +That highte the Tabard, fast by the Bell.<59><br/> +But now is time to you for to tell<br/> +*How that we baren us that ilke night*, *what we did that same night*<br/> +When we were in that hostelry alight.<br/> +And after will I tell of our voyage,<br/> +And all the remnant of our pilgrimage.<br/> +But first I pray you of your courtesy,<br/> +That ye *arette it not my villainy*, *count it not rudeness in me*<br/> +Though that I plainly speak in this mattere.<br/> +To tellen you their wordes and their cheer;<br/> +Not though I speak their wordes properly.<br/> +For this ye knowen all so well as I,<br/> +Whoso shall tell a tale after a man,<br/> +He must rehearse, as nigh as ever he can,<br/> +Every word, if it be in his charge,<br/> +*All speak he* ne’er so rudely and so large; *let him speak*<br/> +Or elles he must tell his tale untrue,<br/> +Or feigne things, or finde wordes new.<br/> +He may not spare, although he were his brother;<br/> +He must as well say one word as another.<br/> +Christ spake Himself full broad in Holy Writ,<br/> +And well ye wot no villainy is it.<br/> +Eke Plato saith, whoso that can him read,<br/> +The wordes must be cousin to the deed.<br/> +Also I pray you to forgive it me,<br/> +*All have I* not set folk in their degree, *although I have*<br/> +Here in this tale, as that they shoulden stand:<br/> +My wit is short, ye may well understand. +</p> + +<p> +Great cheere made our Host us every one,<br/> +And to the supper set he us anon:<br/> +And served us with victual of the best.<br/> +Strong was the wine, and well to drink us lest*. *pleased<br/> +A seemly man Our Hoste was withal<br/> +For to have been a marshal in an hall.<br/> +A large man he was with eyen steep*, *deep-set.<br/> +A fairer burgess is there none in Cheap<60>:<br/> +Bold of his speech, and wise and well y-taught,<br/> +And of manhoode lacked him right naught.<br/> +Eke thereto was he right a merry man,<br/> +And after supper playen he began,<br/> +And spake of mirth amonges other things,<br/> +When that we hadde made our reckonings;<br/> +And saide thus; “Now, lordinges, truly<br/> +Ye be to me welcome right heartily:<br/> +For by my troth, if that I shall not lie,<br/> +I saw not this year such a company<br/> +At once in this herberow*, am is now. *inn <61><br/> +Fain would I do you mirth, an* I wist* how. *if I knew*<br/> +And of a mirth I am right now bethought.<br/> +To do you ease*, and it shall coste nought. *pleasure<br/> +Ye go to Canterbury; God you speed,<br/> +The blissful Martyr *quite you your meed*; *grant you what<br/> +And well I wot, as ye go by the way, you deserve*<br/> +Ye *shapen you* to talken and to play: *intend to*<br/> +For truely comfort nor mirth is none<br/> +To ride by the way as dumb as stone:<br/> +And therefore would I make you disport,<br/> +As I said erst, and do you some comfort.<br/> +And if you liketh all by one assent<br/> +Now for to standen at my judgement,<br/> +And for to worken as I shall you say<br/> +To-morrow, when ye riden on the way,<br/> +Now by my father’s soule that is dead,<br/> +*But ye be merry, smiteth off* mine head. *unless you are merry,<br/> +Hold up your hands withoute more speech. smite off my head* +</p> + +<p> +Our counsel was not longe for to seech*: *seek<br/> +Us thought it was not worth to *make it wise*, *discuss it at length*<br/> +And granted him withoute more avise*, *consideration<br/> +And bade him say his verdict, as him lest.<br/> +Lordings (quoth he), now hearken for the best;<br/> +But take it not, I pray you, in disdain;<br/> +This is the point, to speak it plat* and plain. *flat<br/> +That each of you, to shorten with your way<br/> +In this voyage, shall tellen tales tway,<br/> +To Canterbury-ward, I mean it so,<br/> +And homeward he shall tellen other two,<br/> +Of aventures that whilom have befall.<br/> +And which of you that bear’th him best of all,<br/> +That is to say, that telleth in this case<br/> +Tales of best sentence and most solace,<br/> +Shall have a supper *at your aller cost* *at the cost of you all*<br/> +Here in this place, sitting by this post,<br/> +When that ye come again from Canterbury.<br/> +And for to make you the more merry,<br/> +I will myselfe gladly with you ride,<br/> +Right at mine owen cost, and be your guide.<br/> +And whoso will my judgement withsay,<br/> +Shall pay for all we spenden by the way.<br/> +And if ye vouchesafe that it be so,<br/> +Tell me anon withoute wordes mo’*, *more<br/> +And I will early shape me therefore.” +</p> + +<p> +This thing was granted, and our oath we swore<br/> +With full glad heart, and prayed him also,<br/> +That he would vouchesafe for to do so,<br/> +And that he woulde be our governour,<br/> +And of our tales judge and reportour,<br/> +And set a supper at a certain price;<br/> +And we will ruled be at his device,<br/> +In high and low: and thus by one assent,<br/> +We be accorded to his judgement.<br/> +And thereupon the wine was fet* anon. *fetched.<br/> +We drunken, and to reste went each one,<br/> +Withouten any longer tarrying<br/> +A-morrow, when the day began to spring,<br/> +Up rose our host, and was *our aller cock*, *the cock to wake us all*<br/> +And gather’d us together in a flock,<br/> +And forth we ridden all a little space,<br/> +Unto the watering of Saint Thomas<62>:<br/> +And there our host began his horse arrest,<br/> +And saide; “Lordes, hearken if you lest.<br/> +Ye *weet your forword,* and I it record. *know your promise*<br/> +If even-song and morning-song accord,<br/> +Let see now who shall telle the first tale.<br/> +As ever may I drinke wine or ale,<br/> +Whoso is rebel to my judgement,<br/> +Shall pay for all that by the way is spent.<br/> +Now draw ye cuts*, ere that ye farther twin**. *lots **go<br/> +He which that hath the shortest shall begin.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sir Knight (quoth he), my master and my lord,<br/> +Now draw the cut, for that is mine accord.<br/> +Come near (quoth he), my Lady Prioress,<br/> +And ye, Sir Clerk, let be your shamefastness,<br/> +Nor study not: lay hand to, every man.”<br/> +Anon to drawen every wight began,<br/> +And shortly for to tellen as it was,<br/> +Were it by a venture, or sort*, or cas**, *lot **chance<br/> +The sooth is this, the cut fell to the Knight,<br/> +Of which full blithe and glad was every wight;<br/> +And tell he must his tale as was reason,<br/> +By forword, and by composition,<br/> +As ye have heard; what needeth wordes mo’?<br/> +And when this good man saw that it was so,<br/> +As he that wise was and obedient<br/> +To keep his forword by his free assent,<br/> +He said; “Sithen* I shall begin this game, *since<br/> +Why, welcome be the cut in Godde’s name.<br/> +Now let us ride, and hearken what I say.”<br/> +And with that word we ridden forth our way;<br/> +And he began with right a merry cheer<br/> +His tale anon, and said as ye shall hear. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Prologue +</p> + +<p> +1. Tyrwhitt points out that “the Bull” should be read here, not +“the Ram,” which would place the time of the pilgrimage in the +end of March; whereas, in the Prologue to the Man of Law’s +Tale, the date is given as the “eight and twenty day of April, +that is messenger to May.” +</p> + +<p> +2. Dante, in the “Vita Nuova,” distinguishes three classes of +pilgrims: palmieri - palmers who go beyond sea to the East, +and often bring back staves of palm-wood; peregrini, who go +the shrine of St Jago in Galicia; Romei, who go to Rome. Sir +Walter Scott, however, says that palmers were in the habit of +passing from shrine to shrine, living on charity — pilgrims on the +other hand, made the journey to any shrine only once, +immediately returning to their ordinary avocations. Chaucer +uses “palmer” of all pilgrims. +</p> + +<p> +3. “Hallows” survives, in the meaning here given, in All Hallows +— All-Saints — day. “Couth,” past participle of “conne” to +know, exists in “uncouth.” +</p> + +<p> +4. The Tabard — the sign of the inn — was a sleeveless coat, +worn by heralds. The name of the inn was, some three +centuries after Chaucer, changed to the Talbot. +</p> + +<p> +5. In y-fall,” “y” is a corruption of the Anglo-Saxon “ge” +prefixed to participles of verbs. It is used by Chaucer merely to +help the metre In German, “y-fall,” or y-falle,” would be +“gefallen”, “y-run,” or “y-ronne”, would be “geronnen.” +</p> + +<p> +6. Alisandre: Alexandria, in Egypt, captured by Pierre de +Lusignan, king of Cyprus, in 1365 but abandoned immediately +afterwards. Thirteen years before, the same Prince had taken +Satalie, the ancient Attalia, in Anatolia, and in 1367 he won +Layas, in Armenia, both places named just below. +</p> + +<p> +7. The knight had been placed at the head of the table, above +knights of all nations, in Prussia, whither warriors from all +countries were wont to repair, to aid the Teutonic Order in their +continual conflicts with their heathen neighbours in “Lettowe” +or Lithuania (German. “Litthauen”), Russia, &c. +</p> + +<p> +8. Algesiras was taken from the Moorish king of Grenada, in +1344: the Earls of Derby and Salisbury took part in the siege. +Belmarie is supposed to have been a Moorish state in Africa; +but “Palmyrie” has been suggested as the correct reading. The +Great Sea, or the Greek sea, is the Eastern Mediterranean. +Tramissene, or Tremessen, is enumerated by Froissart among +the Moorish kingdoms in Africa. Palatie, or Palathia, in +Anatolia, was a fief held by the Christian knights after the +Turkish conquests — the holders paying tribute to the infidel. +Our knight had fought with one of those lords against a heathen +neighbour. +</p> + +<p> +9. Ilke: same; compare the Scottish phrase “of that ilk,” — +that is, of the estate which bears the same name as its owner’s +title. +</p> + +<p> +10. It was the custom for squires of the highest degree to carve +at their fathers’ tables. +</p> + +<p> +11. Peacock Arrows: Large arrows, with peacocks’ feathers. +</p> + +<p> +12. A nut-head: With nut-brown hair; or, round like a nut, the +hair being cut short. +</p> + +<p> +13. Grey eyes appear to have been a mark of female beauty in +Chaucer’s time. +</p> + +<p> +14. “for the mastery” was applied to medicines in the sense of +“sovereign” as we now apply it to a remedy. +</p> + +<p> +15. It was fashionable to hang bells on horses’ bridles. +</p> + +<p> +16. St. Benedict was the first founder of a spiritual order in the +Roman church. Maurus, abbot of Fulda from 822 to 842, did +much to re-establish the discipline of the Benedictines on a true +Christian basis. +</p> + +<p> +17. Wood: Mad, Scottish “wud”. Felix says to Paul, “Too +much learning hath made thee mad”. +</p> + +<p> +18. Limitour: A friar with licence or privilege to beg, or +exercise other functions, within a certain district: as, “the +limitour of Holderness”. +</p> + +<p> +19. Farme: rent; that is, he paid a premium for his licence to +beg. +</p> + +<p> +20. In principio: the first words of Genesis and John, employed +in some part of the mass. +</p> + +<p> +21. Lovedays: meetings appointed for friendly settlement of +differences; the business was often followed by sports and +feasting. +</p> + +<p> +22. He would the sea were kept for any thing: he would for +anything that the sea were guarded. “The old subsidy of +tonnage and poundage,” says Tyrwhitt, “was given to the king +‘pour la saufgarde et custodie del mer.’ — for the safeguard and +keeping of the sea” (12 E. IV. C.3). +</p> + +<p> +23. Middleburg, at the mouth of the Scheldt, in Holland; +Orwell, a seaport in Essex. +</p> + +<p> +24. Shields: Crowns, so called from the shields stamped on +them; French, “ecu;” Italian, “scudo.” +</p> + +<p> +25. Poor scholars at the universities used then to go about +begging for money to maintain them and their studies. +</p> + +<p> +26. Parvis: The portico of St. Paul’s, which lawyers frequented +to meet their clients. +</p> + +<p> +27. St Julian: The patron saint of hospitality, celebrated for +supplying his votaries with good lodging and good cheer. +</p> + +<p> +28. Mew: cage. The place behind Whitehall, where the king’s +hawks were caged was called the Mews. +</p> + +<p> +29. Many a luce in stew: many a pike in his fish-pond; in those +Catholic days, when much fish was eaten, no gentleman’s +mansion was complete without a “stew”. +</p> + +<p> +30. Countour: Probably a steward or accountant in the county +court. +</p> + +<p> +31. Vavasour: A landholder of consequence; holding of a duke, +marquis, or earl, and ranking below a baron. +</p> + +<p> +32. On the dais: On the raised platform at the end of the hall, +where sat at meat or in judgement those high in authority, rank +or honour; in our days the worthy craftsmen might have been +described as “good platform men”. +</p> + +<p> +33. To take precedence over all in going to the evening service +of the Church, or to festival meetings, to which it was the +fashion to carry rich cloaks or mantles against the home- +coming. +</p> + +<p> +34. The things the cook could make: “marchand tart”, some +now unknown ingredient used in cookery; “galingale,” sweet or +long rooted cyprus; “mortrewes”, a rich soup made by stamping +flesh in a mortar; “Blanc manger”, not what is now called +blancmange; one part of it was the brawn of a capon. +</p> + +<p> +35. Lodemanage: pilotage, from Anglo-Saxon “ladman,” a +leader, guide, or pilot; hence “lodestar,” “lodestone.” +</p> + +<p> +36. The authors mentioned here were the chief medical text- +books of the middle ages. The names of Galen and Hippocrates +were then usually spelt “Gallien” and “Hypocras” or “Ypocras”. +</p> + +<p> +37. The west of England, especially around Bath, was the seat +of the cloth-manufacture, as were Ypres and Ghent (Gaunt) in +Flanders. +</p> + +<p> +38. Chaucer here satirises the fashion of the time, which piled +bulky and heavy waddings on ladies’ heads. +</p> + +<p> +39. Moist; here used in the sense of “new”, as in Latin, +“mustum” signifies new wine; and elsewhere Chaucer speaks of +“moisty ale”, as opposed to “old”. +</p> + +<p> +40. In Galice at Saint James: at the shrine of St Jago of +Compostella in Spain. +</p> + +<p> +41. Gat-toothed: Buck-toothed; goat-toothed, to signify her +wantonness; or gap-toothed — with gaps between her teeth. +</p> + +<p> +42. An endowment to sing masses for the soul of the donor. +</p> + +<p> +43. A ram was the usual prize at wrestling matches. +</p> + +<p> +44. Cop: Head; German, “Kopf”. +</p> + +<p> +45. Nose-thirles: nostrils; from the Anglo-Saxon, “thirlian,” to +pierce; hence the word “drill,” to bore. +</p> + +<p> +46. Goliardais: a babbler and a buffoon; Golias was the founder +of a jovial sect called by his name. +</p> + +<p> +47. The proverb says that every honest miller has a thumb of +gold; probably Chaucer means that this one was as honest as his +brethren. +</p> + +<p> +48. A Manciple — Latin, “manceps,” a purchaser or contractor - +- was an officer charged with the purchase of victuals for inns +of court or colleges. +</p> + +<p> +49. Reeve: A land-steward; still called “grieve” — Anglo-Saxon, +“gerefa” in some parts of Scotland. +</p> + +<p> +50. Sompnour: summoner; an apparitor, who cited delinquents +to appear in ecclesiastical courts. +</p> + +<p> +51. Questio quid juris: “I ask which law (applies)”; a cant law- +Latin phrase. +</p> + +<p> +52 Harlot: a low, ribald fellow; the word was used of both +sexes; it comes from the Anglo-Saxon verb to hire. +</p> + +<p> +53. Significavit: an ecclesiastical writ. +</p> + +<p> +54. Within his jurisdiction he had at his own pleasure the young +people (of both sexes) in the diocese. +</p> + +<p> +55. Pardoner: a seller of pardons or indulgences. +</p> + +<p> +56. Newe get: new gait, or fashion; “gait” is still used in this +sense in some parts of the country. +</p> + +<p> +57. Vernicle: an image of Christ; so called from St Veronica, +who gave the Saviour a napkin to wipe the sweat from His face +as He bore the Cross, and received it back with an impression +of His countenance upon it. +</p> + +<p> +58. Mail: packet, baggage; French, “malle,” a trunk. +</p> + +<p> +59. The Bell: apparently another Southwark tavern; Stowe +mentions a “Bull” as being near the Tabard. +</p> + +<p> +60. Cheap: Cheapside, then inhabited by the richest and most +prosperous citizens of London. +</p> + +<p> +61. Herberow: Lodging, inn; French, “Herberge.” +</p> + +<p> +62. The watering of Saint Thomas: At the second milestone on +the old Canterbury road. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap05"></a>THE KNIGHT’S TALE <1></h2> + +<p> +WHILOM*, as olde stories tellen us, *formerly<br/> +There was a duke that highte* Theseus. *was called <2><br/> +Of Athens he was lord and governor,<br/> +And in his time such a conqueror<br/> +That greater was there none under the sun.<br/> +Full many a riche country had he won.<br/> +What with his wisdom and his chivalry,<br/> +He conquer’d all the regne of Feminie,<3><br/> +That whilom was y-cleped Scythia;<br/> +And weddede the Queen Hippolyta<br/> +And brought her home with him to his country<br/> +With muchel* glory and great solemnity, *great<br/> +And eke her younge sister Emily,<br/> +And thus with vict’ry and with melody<br/> +Let I this worthy Duke to Athens ride,<br/> +And all his host, in armes him beside. +</p> + +<p> +And certes, if it n’ere* too long to hear, *were not<br/> +I would have told you fully the mannere,<br/> +How wonnen* was the regne of Feminie, <4> *won<br/> +By Theseus, and by his chivalry;<br/> +And of the greate battle for the nonce<br/> +Betwixt Athenes and the Amazons;<br/> +And how assieged was Hippolyta,<br/> +The faire hardy queen of Scythia;<br/> +And of the feast that was at her wedding<br/> +And of the tempest at her homecoming.<br/> +But all these things I must as now forbear.<br/> +I have, God wot, a large field to ear* *plough<5>;<br/> +And weake be the oxen in my plough;<br/> +The remnant of my tale is long enow.<br/> +I will not *letten eke none of this rout*. *hinder any of<br/> +Let every fellow tell his tale about, this company*<br/> +And let see now who shall the supper win.<br/> +There *as I left*, I will again begin. *where I left off* +</p> + +<p> +This Duke, of whom I make mentioun,<br/> +When he was come almost unto the town,<br/> +In all his weal, and in his moste pride,<br/> +He was ware, as he cast his eye aside,<br/> +Where that there kneeled in the highe way<br/> +A company of ladies, tway and tway,<br/> +Each after other, clad in clothes black:<br/> +But such a cry and such a woe they make,<br/> +That in this world n’is creature living,<br/> +That hearde such another waimenting* *lamenting <6><br/> +And of this crying would they never stenten*, *desist<br/> +Till they the reines of his bridle henten*. *seize<br/> +“What folk be ye that at mine homecoming<br/> +Perturben so my feaste with crying?”<br/> +Quoth Theseus; “Have ye so great envy<br/> +Of mine honour, that thus complain and cry?<br/> +Or who hath you misboden*, or offended? *wronged<br/> +Do telle me, if it may be amended;<br/> +And why that ye be clad thus all in black?” +</p> + +<p> +The oldest lady of them all then spake,<br/> +When she had swooned, with a deadly cheer*, *countenance<br/> +That it was ruthe* for to see or hear. *pity<br/> +She saide; “Lord, to whom fortune hath given<br/> +Vict’ry, and as a conqueror to liven,<br/> +Nought grieveth us your glory and your honour;<br/> +But we beseechen mercy and succour.<br/> +Have mercy on our woe and our distress;<br/> +Some drop of pity, through thy gentleness,<br/> +Upon us wretched women let now fall.<br/> +For certes, lord, there is none of us all<br/> +That hath not been a duchess or a queen;<br/> +Now be we caitives*, as it is well seen: *captives<br/> +Thanked be Fortune, and her false wheel,<br/> +That *none estate ensureth to be wele*. *assures no continuance of<br/> +And certes, lord, t’abiden your presence prosperous estate*<br/> +Here in this temple of the goddess Clemence<br/> +We have been waiting all this fortenight:<br/> +Now help us, lord, since it lies in thy might. +</p> + +<p> +“I, wretched wight, that weep and waile thus,<br/> +Was whilom wife to king Capaneus,<br/> +That starf* at Thebes, cursed be that day: *died <7><br/> +And alle we that be in this array,<br/> +And maken all this lamentatioun,<br/> +We losten all our husbands at that town,<br/> +While that the siege thereabouten lay.<br/> +And yet the olde Creon, wellaway!<br/> +That lord is now of Thebes the city,<br/> +Fulfilled of ire and of iniquity,<br/> +He for despite, and for his tyranny,<br/> +To do the deade bodies villainy*, *insult<br/> +Of all our lorde’s, which that been y-slaw, *slain<br/> +Hath all the bodies on an heap y-draw,<br/> +And will not suffer them by none assent<br/> +Neither to be y-buried, nor y-brent*, *burnt<br/> +But maketh houndes eat them in despite.”<br/> +And with that word, withoute more respite<br/> +They fallen groff,* and cryden piteously; *grovelling<br/> +“Have on us wretched women some mercy,<br/> +And let our sorrow sinken in thine heart.” +</p> + +<p> +This gentle Duke down from his courser start<br/> +With hearte piteous, when he heard them speak.<br/> +Him thoughte that his heart would all to-break,<br/> +When he saw them so piteous and so mate* *abased<br/> +That whilom weren of so great estate.<br/> +And in his armes he them all up hent*, *raised, took<br/> +And them comforted in full good intent,<br/> +And swore his oath, as he was true knight,<br/> +He woulde do *so farforthly his might* *as far as his power went*<br/> +Upon the tyrant Creon them to wreak*, *avenge<br/> +That all the people of Greece shoulde speak,<br/> +How Creon was of Theseus y-served,<br/> +As he that had his death full well deserved.<br/> +And right anon withoute more abode* *delay<br/> +His banner he display’d, and forth he rode<br/> +To Thebes-ward, and all his, host beside:<br/> +No ner* Athenes would he go nor ride, *nearer<br/> +Nor take his ease fully half a day,<br/> +But onward on his way that night he lay:<br/> +And sent anon Hippolyta the queen,<br/> +And Emily her younge sister sheen* *bright, lovely<br/> +Unto the town of Athens for to dwell:<br/> +And forth he rit*; there is no more to tell. *rode +</p> + +<p> +The red statue of Mars with spear and targe* *shield<br/> +So shineth in his white banner large<br/> +That all the fieldes glitter up and down:<br/> +And by his banner borne is his pennon<br/> +Of gold full rich, in which there was y-beat* *stamped<br/> +The Minotaur<8> which that he slew in Crete<br/> +Thus rit this Duke, thus rit this conqueror<br/> +And in his host of chivalry the flower,<br/> +Till that he came to Thebes, and alight<br/> +Fair in a field, there as he thought to fight.<br/> +But shortly for to speaken of this thing,<br/> +With Creon, which that was of Thebes king,<br/> +He fought, and slew him manly as a knight<br/> +In plain bataille, and put his folk to flight:<br/> +And by assault he won the city after,<br/> +And rent adown both wall, and spar, and rafter;<br/> +And to the ladies he restored again<br/> +The bodies of their husbands that were slain,<br/> +To do obsequies, as was then the guise*. *custom +</p> + +<p> +But it were all too long for to devise* *describe<br/> +The greate clamour, and the waimenting*, *lamenting<br/> +Which that the ladies made at the brenning* *burning<br/> +Of the bodies, and the great honour<br/> +That Theseus the noble conqueror<br/> +Did to the ladies, when they from him went:<br/> +But shortly for to tell is mine intent.<br/> +When that this worthy Duke, this Theseus,<br/> +Had Creon slain, and wonnen Thebes thus,<br/> +Still in the field he took all night his rest,<br/> +And did with all the country as him lest*. *pleased<br/> +To ransack in the tas* of bodies dead, *heap<br/> +Them for to strip of *harness and of **weed, *armour **clothes<br/> +The pillers* did their business and cure, *pillagers <9><br/> +After the battle and discomfiture.<br/> +And so befell, that in the tas they found,<br/> +Through girt with many a grievous bloody wound,<br/> +Two younge knightes *ligging by and by* *lying side by side*<br/> +Both in *one armes*, wrought full richely: *the same armour*<br/> +Of whiche two, Arcita hight that one,<br/> +And he that other highte Palamon.<br/> +Not fully quick*, nor fully dead they were, *alive<br/> +But by their coat-armour, and by their gear,<br/> +The heralds knew them well in special,<br/> +As those that weren of the blood royal<br/> +Of Thebes, and *of sistren two y-born*. *born of two sisters*<br/> +Out of the tas the pillers have them torn,<br/> +And have them carried soft unto the tent<br/> +Of Theseus, and he full soon them sent<br/> +To Athens, for to dwellen in prison<br/> +Perpetually, he *n’olde no ranson*. *would take no ransom*<br/> +And when this worthy Duke had thus y-done,<br/> +He took his host, and home he rit anon<br/> +With laurel crowned as a conquerour;<br/> +And there he lived in joy and in honour<br/> +Term of his life; what needeth wordes mo’?<br/> +And in a tower, in anguish and in woe,<br/> +Dwellen this Palamon, and eke Arcite,<br/> +For evermore, there may no gold them quite* *set free +</p> + +<p> +Thus passed year by year, and day by day,<br/> +Till it fell ones in a morn of May<br/> +That Emily, that fairer was to seen<br/> +Than is the lily upon his stalke green,<br/> +And fresher than the May with flowers new<br/> +(For with the rose colour strove her hue;<br/> +I n’ot* which was the finer of them two), *know not<br/> +Ere it was day, as she was wont to do,<br/> +She was arisen, and all ready dight*, *dressed<br/> +For May will have no sluggardy a-night;<br/> +The season pricketh every gentle heart,<br/> +And maketh him out of his sleep to start,<br/> +And saith, “Arise, and do thine observance.” +</p> + +<p> +This maketh Emily have remembrance<br/> +To do honour to May, and for to rise.<br/> +Y-clothed was she fresh for to devise;<br/> +Her yellow hair was braided in a tress,<br/> +Behind her back, a yarde long I guess.<br/> +And in the garden at *the sun uprist* *sunrise<br/> +She walketh up and down where as her list.<br/> +She gathereth flowers, party* white and red, *mingled<br/> +To make a sotel* garland for her head, *subtle, well-arranged<br/> +And as an angel heavenly she sung.<br/> +The greate tower, that was so thick and strong,<br/> +Which of the castle was the chief dungeon<10><br/> +(Where as these knightes weren in prison,<br/> +Of which I tolde you, and telle shall),<br/> +Was even joinant* to the garden wall, *adjoining<br/> +There as this Emily had her playing. +</p> + +<p> +Bright was the sun, and clear that morrowning,<br/> +And Palamon, this woful prisoner,<br/> +As was his wont, by leave of his gaoler,<br/> +Was ris’n, and roamed in a chamber on high,<br/> +In which he all the noble city sigh*, *saw<br/> +And eke the garden, full of branches green,<br/> +There as this fresh Emelia the sheen<br/> +Was in her walk, and roamed up and down.<br/> +This sorrowful prisoner, this Palamon<br/> +Went in his chamber roaming to and fro,<br/> +And to himself complaining of his woe:<br/> +That he was born, full oft he said, Alas!<br/> +And so befell, by aventure or cas*, *chance<br/> +That through a window thick of many a bar<br/> +Of iron great, and square as any spar,<br/> +He cast his eyes upon Emelia,<br/> +And therewithal he blent* and cried, Ah! *started aside<br/> +As though he stungen were unto the heart.<br/> +And with that cry Arcite anon up start,<br/> +And saide, “Cousin mine, what aileth thee,<br/> +That art so pale and deadly for to see?<br/> +Why cried’st thou? who hath thee done offence?<br/> +For Godde’s love, take all in patience<br/> +Our prison*, for it may none other be. *imprisonment<br/> +Fortune hath giv’n us this adversity’.<br/> +Some wick’* aspect or disposition *wicked<br/> +Of Saturn<11>, by some constellation,<br/> +Hath giv’n us this, although we had it sworn,<br/> +So stood the heaven when that we were born,<br/> +We must endure; this is the short and plain. +</p> + +<p> +This Palamon answer’d, and said again:<br/> +“Cousin, forsooth of this opinion<br/> +Thou hast a vain imagination.<br/> +This prison caused me not for to cry;<br/> +But I was hurt right now thorough mine eye<br/> +Into mine heart; that will my bane* be. *destruction<br/> +The fairness of the lady that I see<br/> +Yond in the garden roaming to and fro,<br/> +Is cause of all my crying and my woe.<br/> +I *n’ot wher* she be woman or goddess, *know not whether*<br/> +But Venus is it, soothly* as I guess, *truly<br/> +And therewithal on knees adown he fill,<br/> +And saide: “Venus, if it be your will<br/> +You in this garden thus to transfigure<br/> +Before me sorrowful wretched creature,<br/> +Out of this prison help that we may scape.<br/> +And if so be our destiny be shape<br/> +By etern word to dien in prison,<br/> +Of our lineage have some compassion,<br/> +That is so low y-brought by tyranny.” +</p> + +<p> +And with that word Arcita *gan espy* *began to look forth*<br/> +Where as this lady roamed to and fro<br/> +And with that sight her beauty hurt him so,<br/> +That if that Palamon was wounded sore,<br/> +Arcite is hurt as much as he, or more.<br/> +And with a sigh he saide piteously:<br/> +“The freshe beauty slay’th me suddenly<br/> +Of her that roameth yonder in the place.<br/> +And but* I have her mercy and her grace, *unless<br/> +That I may see her at the leaste way,<br/> +I am but dead; there is no more to say.”<br/> +This Palamon, when he these wordes heard,<br/> +Dispiteously* he looked, and answer’d: *angrily<br/> +“Whether say’st thou this in earnest or in play?”<br/> +“Nay,” quoth Arcite, “in earnest, by my fay*. *faith<br/> +God help me so, *me lust full ill to play*.” *I am in no humour<br/> +This Palamon gan knit his browes tway. for jesting*<br/> +“It were,” quoth he, “to thee no great honour<br/> +For to be false, nor for to be traitour<br/> +To me, that am thy cousin and thy brother<br/> +Y-sworn full deep, and each of us to other,<br/> +That never for to dien in the pain <12>,<br/> +Till that the death departen shall us twain,<br/> +Neither of us in love to hinder other,<br/> +Nor in none other case, my leve* brother; *dear<br/> +But that thou shouldest truly farther me<br/> +In every case, as I should farther thee.<br/> +This was thine oath, and mine also certain;<br/> +I wot it well, thou dar’st it not withsayn*, *deny<br/> +Thus art thou of my counsel out of doubt,<br/> +And now thou wouldest falsely be about<br/> +To love my lady, whom I love and serve,<br/> +And ever shall, until mine hearte sterve* *die<br/> +Now certes, false Arcite, thou shalt not so<br/> +I lov’d her first, and tolde thee my woe<br/> +As to my counsel, and my brother sworn<br/> +To farther me, as I have told beforn.<br/> +For which thou art y-bounden as a knight<br/> +To helpe me, if it lie in thy might,<br/> +Or elles art thou false, I dare well sayn,” +</p> + +<p> +This Arcita full proudly spake again:<br/> +“Thou shalt,” quoth he, “be rather* false than I, *sooner<br/> +And thou art false, I tell thee utterly;<br/> +For par amour I lov’d her first ere thou.<br/> +What wilt thou say? *thou wist it not right now* *even now thou<br/> +Whether she be a woman or goddess. knowest not*<br/> +Thine is affection of holiness,<br/> +And mine is love, as to a creature:<br/> +For which I tolde thee mine aventure<br/> +As to my cousin, and my brother sworn<br/> +I pose*, that thou loved’st her beforn: *suppose<br/> +Wost* thou not well the olde clerke’s saw<13>, *know’st<br/> +That who shall give a lover any law?<br/> +Love is a greater lawe, by my pan,<br/> +Than may be giv’n to any earthly man:<br/> +Therefore positive law, and such decree,<br/> +Is broke alway for love in each degree<br/> +A man must needes love, maugre his head.<br/> +He may not flee it, though he should be dead,<br/> +*All be she* maid, or widow, or else wife. *whether she be*<br/> +And eke it is not likely all thy life<br/> +To standen in her grace, no more than I<br/> +For well thou wost thyselfe verily,<br/> +That thou and I be damned to prison<br/> +Perpetual, us gaineth no ranson.<br/> +We strive, as did the houndes for the bone;<br/> +They fought all day, and yet their part was none.<br/> +There came a kite, while that they were so wroth,<br/> +And bare away the bone betwixt them both.<br/> +And therefore at the kinge’s court, my brother,<br/> +Each man for himselfe, there is no other.<br/> +Love if thee list; for I love and aye shall<br/> +And soothly, leve brother, this is all.<br/> +Here in this prison musten we endure,<br/> +And each of us take his Aventure.” +</p> + +<p> +Great was the strife and long between these tway,<br/> +If that I hadde leisure for to say;<br/> +But to the effect: it happen’d on a day<br/> +(To tell it you as shortly as I may),<br/> +A worthy duke that hight Perithous<14><br/> +That fellow was to the Duke Theseus<br/> +Since thilke* day that they were children lite** *that **little<br/> +Was come to Athens, his fellow to visite,<br/> +And for to play, as he was wont to do;<br/> +For in this world he loved no man so;<br/> +And he lov’d him as tenderly again.<br/> +So well they lov’d, as olde bookes sayn,<br/> +That when that one was dead, soothly to sayn,<br/> +His fellow went and sought him down in hell:<br/> +But of that story list me not to write.<br/> +Duke Perithous loved well Arcite,<br/> +And had him known at Thebes year by year:<br/> +And finally at request and prayere<br/> +Of Perithous, withoute ranson<br/> +Duke Theseus him let out of prison,<br/> +Freely to go, where him list over all,<br/> +In such a guise, as I you tellen shall<br/> +This was the forword*, plainly to indite, *promise<br/> +Betwixte Theseus and him Arcite:<br/> +That if so were, that Arcite were y-found<br/> +Ever in his life, by day or night, one stound* *moment<15><br/> +In any country of this Theseus,<br/> +And he were caught, it was accorded thus,<br/> +That with a sword he shoulde lose his head;<br/> +There was none other remedy nor rede*. *counsel<br/> +But took his leave, and homeward he him sped;<br/> +Let him beware, his necke lieth *to wed*. *in pledge* +</p> + +<p> +How great a sorrow suff’reth now Arcite!<br/> +The death he feeleth through his hearte smite;<br/> +He weepeth, waileth, crieth piteously;<br/> +To slay himself he waiteth privily.<br/> +He said; “Alas the day that I was born!<br/> +Now is my prison worse than beforn:<br/> +*Now is me shape* eternally to dwell *it is fixed for me*<br/> +Not in purgatory, but right in hell.<br/> +Alas! that ever I knew Perithous.<br/> +For elles had I dwelt with Theseus<br/> +Y-fettered in his prison evermo’.<br/> +Then had I been in bliss, and not in woe.<br/> +Only the sight of her, whom that I serve,<br/> +Though that I never may her grace deserve,<br/> +Would have sufficed right enough for me.<br/> +O deare cousin Palamon,” quoth he,<br/> +“Thine is the vict’ry of this aventure,<br/> +Full blissfully in prison to endure:<br/> +In prison? nay certes, in paradise.<br/> +Well hath fortune y-turned thee the dice,<br/> +That hast the sight of her, and I th’ absence.<br/> +For possible is, since thou hast her presence,<br/> +And art a knight, a worthy and an able,<br/> +That by some cas*, since fortune is changeable, *chance<br/> +Thou may’st to thy desire sometime attain.<br/> +But I that am exiled, and barren<br/> +Of alle grace, and in so great despair,<br/> +That there n’is earthe, water, fire, nor air,<br/> +Nor creature, that of them maked is,<br/> +That may me helpe nor comfort in this,<br/> +Well ought I *sterve in wanhope* and distress. *die in despair*<br/> +Farewell my life, my lust*, and my gladness. *pleasure<br/> +Alas, *why plainen men so in commune *why do men so often complain<br/> +Of purveyance of God*, or of Fortune, of God’s providence?*<br/> +That giveth them full oft in many a guise<br/> +Well better than they can themselves devise?<br/> +Some man desireth for to have richess,<br/> +That cause is of his murder or great sickness.<br/> +And some man would out of his prison fain,<br/> +That in his house is of his meinie* slain. *servants <16><br/> +Infinite harmes be in this mattere.<br/> +We wot never what thing we pray for here.<br/> +We fare as he that drunk is as a mouse.<br/> +A drunken man wot well he hath an house,<br/> +But he wot not which is the right way thither,<br/> +And to a drunken man the way is slither*. *slippery<br/> +And certes in this world so fare we.<br/> +We seeke fast after felicity,<br/> +But we go wrong full often truely.<br/> +Thus we may sayen all, and namely* I, *especially<br/> +That ween’d*, and had a great opinion, *thought<br/> +That if I might escape from prison<br/> +Then had I been in joy and perfect heal,<br/> +Where now I am exiled from my weal.<br/> +Since that I may not see you, Emily,<br/> +I am but dead; there is no remedy.” +</p> + +<p> +Upon that other side, Palamon,<br/> +When that he wist Arcita was agone,<br/> +Much sorrow maketh, that the greate tower<br/> +Resounded of his yelling and clamour<br/> +The pure* fetters on his shinnes great *very <17><br/> +Were of his bitter salte teares wet. +</p> + +<p> +“Alas!” quoth he, “Arcita, cousin mine,<br/> +Of all our strife, God wot, the fruit is thine.<br/> +Thou walkest now in Thebes at thy large,<br/> +And of my woe thou *givest little charge*. *takest little heed*<br/> +Thou mayst, since thou hast wisdom and manhead*, *manhood, courage<br/> +Assemble all the folk of our kindred,<br/> +And make a war so sharp on this country<br/> +That by some aventure, or some treaty,<br/> +Thou mayst have her to lady and to wife,<br/> +For whom that I must needes lose my life.<br/> +For as by way of possibility,<br/> +Since thou art at thy large, of prison free,<br/> +And art a lord, great is thine avantage,<br/> +More than is mine, that sterve here in a cage.<br/> +For I must weep and wail, while that I live,<br/> +With all the woe that prison may me give,<br/> +And eke with pain that love me gives also,<br/> +That doubles all my torment and my woe.” +</p> + +<p> +Therewith the fire of jealousy upstart<br/> +Within his breast, and hent* him by the heart *seized<br/> +So woodly*, that he like was to behold *madly<br/> +The box-tree, or the ashes dead and cold.<br/> +Then said; “O cruel goddess, that govern<br/> +This world with binding of your word etern* *eternal<br/> +And writen in the table of adamant<br/> +Your parlement* and your eternal grant, *consultation<br/> +What is mankind more *unto you y-hold* *by you esteemed<br/> +Than is the sheep, that rouketh* in the fold! *lie huddled together<br/> +For slain is man, right as another beast;<br/> +And dwelleth eke in prison and arrest,<br/> +And hath sickness, and great adversity,<br/> +And oftentimes guilteless, pardie* *by God<br/> +What governance is in your prescience,<br/> +That guilteless tormenteth innocence?<br/> +And yet increaseth this all my penance,<br/> +That man is bounden to his observance<br/> +For Godde’s sake to *letten of his will*, *restrain his desire*<br/> +Whereas a beast may all his lust fulfil.<br/> +And when a beast is dead, he hath no pain;<br/> +But man after his death must weep and plain,<br/> +Though in this worlde he have care and woe:<br/> +Withoute doubt it maye standen so.<br/> +“The answer of this leave I to divines,<br/> +But well I wot, that in this world great pine* is; *pain, trouble<br/> +Alas! I see a serpent or a thief<br/> +That many a true man hath done mischief,<br/> +Go at his large, and where him list may turn.<br/> +But I must be in prison through Saturn,<br/> +And eke through Juno, jealous and eke wood*, *mad<br/> +That hath well nigh destroyed all the blood<br/> +Of Thebes, with his waste walles wide.<br/> +And Venus slay’th me on that other side<br/> +For jealousy, and fear of him, Arcite.” +</p> + +<p> +Now will I stent* of Palamon a lite**, *pause **little<br/> +And let him in his prison stille dwell,<br/> +And of Arcita forth I will you tell.<br/> +The summer passeth, and the nightes long<br/> +Increase double-wise the paines strong<br/> +Both of the lover and the prisonere.<br/> +I n’ot* which hath the wofuller mistere**. *know not **condition<br/> +For, shortly for to say, this Palamon<br/> +Perpetually is damned to prison,<br/> +In chaines and in fetters to be dead;<br/> +And Arcite is exiled *on his head* *on peril of his head*<br/> +For evermore as out of that country,<br/> +Nor never more he shall his lady see.<br/> +You lovers ask I now this question,<18><br/> +Who lieth the worse, Arcite or Palamon?<br/> +The one may see his lady day by day,<br/> +But in prison he dwelle must alway.<br/> +The other where him list may ride or go,<br/> +But see his lady shall he never mo’.<br/> +Now deem all as you liste, ye that can,<br/> +For I will tell you forth as I began. +</p> + +<p> +When that Arcite to Thebes comen was,<br/> +Full oft a day he swelt*, and said, “Alas!” *fainted<br/> +For see this lady he shall never mo’.<br/> +And shortly to concluden all his woe,<br/> +So much sorrow had never creature<br/> +That is or shall be while the world may dure.<br/> +His sleep, his meat, his drink is *him byraft*, *taken away from him*<br/> +That lean he wex*, and dry as any shaft. *became<br/> +His eyen hollow, grisly to behold,<br/> +His hue sallow, and pale as ashes cold,<br/> +And solitary he was, ever alone,<br/> +And wailing all the night, making his moan.<br/> +And if he hearde song or instrument,<br/> +Then would he weepen, he might not be stent*. *stopped<br/> +So feeble were his spirits, and so low,<br/> +And changed so, that no man coulde know<br/> +His speech, neither his voice, though men it heard.<br/> +And in his gear* for all the world he far’d *behaviour <19><br/> +Not only like the lovers’ malady<br/> +Of Eros, but rather y-like manie* *madness<br/> +Engender’d of humours melancholic,<br/> +Before his head in his cell fantastic.<20><br/> +And shortly turned was all upside down,<br/> +Both habit and eke dispositioun,<br/> +Of him, this woful lover Dan* Arcite. *Lord <21><br/> +Why should I all day of his woe indite?<br/> +When he endured had a year or two<br/> +This cruel torment, and this pain and woe,<br/> +At Thebes, in his country, as I said,<br/> +Upon a night in sleep as he him laid,<br/> +Him thought how that the winged god Mercury<br/> +Before him stood, and bade him to be merry.<br/> +His sleepy yard* in hand he bare upright; *rod <22><br/> +A hat he wore upon his haires bright.<br/> +Arrayed was this god (as he took keep*) *notice<br/> +As he was when that Argus<23> took his sleep;<br/> +And said him thus: “To Athens shalt thou wend*; *go<br/> +There is thee shapen* of thy woe an end.” *fixed, prepared<br/> +And with that word Arcite woke and start.<br/> +“Now truely how sore that e’er me smart,”<br/> +Quoth he, “to Athens right now will I fare.<br/> +Nor for no dread of death shall I not spare<br/> +To see my lady that I love and serve;<br/> +In her presence *I recke not to sterve.*” *do not care if I die*<br/> +And with that word he caught a great mirror,<br/> +And saw that changed was all his colour,<br/> +And saw his visage all in other kind.<br/> +And right anon it ran him ill his mind,<br/> +That since his face was so disfigur’d<br/> +Of malady the which he had endur’d,<br/> +He mighte well, if that he *bare him low,* *lived in lowly fashion*<br/> +Live in Athenes evermore unknow,<br/> +And see his lady wellnigh day by day.<br/> +And right anon he changed his array,<br/> +And clad him as a poore labourer.<br/> +And all alone, save only a squier,<br/> +That knew his privity* and all his cas**, *secrets **fortune<br/> +Which was disguised poorly as he was,<br/> +To Athens is he gone the nexte* way. *nearest <24><br/> +And to the court he went upon a day,<br/> +And at the gate he proffer’d his service,<br/> +To drudge and draw, what so men would devise*. *order<br/> +And, shortly of this matter for to sayn,<br/> +He fell in office with a chamberlain,<br/> +The which that dwelling was with Emily.<br/> +For he was wise, and coulde soon espy<br/> +Of every servant which that served her.<br/> +Well could he hewe wood, and water bear,<br/> +For he was young and mighty for the nones*, *occasion<br/> +And thereto he was strong and big of bones<br/> +To do that any wight can him devise. +</p> + +<p> +A year or two he was in this service,<br/> +Page of the chamber of Emily the bright;<br/> +And Philostrate he saide that he hight.<br/> +But half so well belov’d a man as he<br/> +Ne was there never in court of his degree.<br/> +He was so gentle of conditioun,<br/> +That throughout all the court was his renown.<br/> +They saide that it were a charity<br/> +That Theseus would *enhance his degree*, *elevate him in rank*<br/> +And put him in some worshipful service,<br/> +There as he might his virtue exercise.<br/> +And thus within a while his name sprung<br/> +Both of his deedes, and of his good tongue,<br/> +That Theseus hath taken him so near,<br/> +That of his chamber he hath made him squire,<br/> +And gave him gold to maintain his degree;<br/> +And eke men brought him out of his country<br/> +From year to year full privily his rent.<br/> +But honestly and slyly* he it spent, *discreetly, prudently<br/> +That no man wonder’d how that he it had.<br/> +And three year in this wise his life be lad*, *led<br/> +And bare him so in peace and eke in werre*, *war<br/> +There was no man that Theseus had so derre*. *dear<br/> +And in this blisse leave I now Arcite,<br/> +And speak I will of Palamon a lite*. *little +</p> + +<p> +In darkness horrible, and strong prison,<br/> +This seven year hath sitten Palamon,<br/> +Forpined*, what for love, and for distress. *pined, wasted away<br/> +Who feeleth double sorrow and heaviness<br/> +But Palamon? that love distraineth* so, *afflicts<br/> +That wood* out of his wits he went for woe, *mad<br/> +And eke thereto he is a prisonere<br/> +Perpetual, not only for a year.<br/> +Who coulde rhyme in English properly<br/> +His martyrdom? forsooth*, it is not I; *truly<br/> +Therefore I pass as lightly as I may.<br/> +It fell that in the seventh year, in May<br/> +The thirde night (as olde bookes sayn,<br/> +That all this story tellen more plain),<br/> +Were it by a venture or destiny<br/> +(As when a thing is shapen* it shall be), *settled, decreed<br/> +That soon after the midnight, Palamon<br/> +By helping of a friend brake his prison,<br/> +And fled the city fast as he might go,<br/> +For he had given drink his gaoler so<br/> +Of a clary <25>, made of a certain wine,<br/> +With *narcotise and opie* of Thebes fine, *narcotics and opium*<br/> +That all the night, though that men would him shake,<br/> +The gaoler slept, he mighte not awake:<br/> +And thus he fled as fast as ever he may.<br/> +The night was short, and *faste by the day *close at hand was<br/> +That needes cast he must himself to hide*. the day during which<br/> +And to a grove faste there beside he must cast about, or contrive,<br/> +With dreadful foot then stalked Palamon. to conceal himself.*<br/> +For shortly this was his opinion,<br/> +That in the grove he would him hide all day,<br/> +And in the night then would he take his way<br/> +To Thebes-ward, his friendes for to pray<br/> +On Theseus to help him to warray*. *make war <26><br/> +And shortly either he would lose his life,<br/> +Or winnen Emily unto his wife.<br/> +This is th’ effect, and his intention plain. +</p> + +<p> +Now will I turn to Arcita again,<br/> +That little wist how nighe was his care,<br/> +Till that Fortune had brought him in the snare.<br/> +The busy lark, the messenger of day,<br/> +Saluteth in her song the morning gray;<br/> +And fiery Phoebus riseth up so bright,<br/> +That all the orient laugheth at the sight,<br/> +And with his streames* drieth in the greves** *rays **groves<br/> +The silver droppes, hanging on the leaves;<br/> +And Arcite, that is in the court royal<br/> +With Theseus, his squier principal,<br/> +Is ris’n, and looketh on the merry day.<br/> +And for to do his observance to May,<br/> +Remembering the point* of his desire, *object<br/> +He on his courser, starting as the fire,<br/> +Is ridden to the fieldes him to play,<br/> +Out of the court, were it a mile or tway.<br/> +And to the grove, of which I have you told,<br/> +By a venture his way began to hold,<br/> +To make him a garland of the greves*, *groves<br/> +Were it of woodbine, or of hawthorn leaves,<br/> +And loud he sang against the sun so sheen*. *shining bright<br/> +“O May, with all thy flowers and thy green,<br/> +Right welcome be thou, faire freshe May,<br/> +I hope that I some green here getten may.”<br/> +And from his courser*, with a lusty heart, *horse<br/> +Into the grove full hastily he start,<br/> +And in a path he roamed up and down,<br/> +There as by aventure this Palamon<br/> +Was in a bush, that no man might him see,<br/> +For sore afeard of his death was he.<br/> +Nothing ne knew he that it was Arcite;<br/> +God wot he would have *trowed it full lite*. *full little believed it*<br/> +But sooth is said, gone since full many years,<br/> +The field hath eyen*, and the wood hath ears, *eyes<br/> +It is full fair a man *to bear him even*, *to be on his guard*<br/> +For all day meeten men at *unset steven*. *unexpected time <27><br/> +Full little wot Arcite of his fellaw,<br/> +That was so nigh to hearken of his saw*, *saying, speech<br/> +For in the bush he sitteth now full still.<br/> +When that Arcite had roamed all his fill,<br/> +And *sungen all the roundel* lustily, *sang the roundelay*<28><br/> +Into a study he fell suddenly,<br/> +As do those lovers in their *quainte gears*, *odd fashions*<br/> +Now in the crop*, and now down in the breres**, <29> *tree-top<br/> +Now up, now down, as bucket in a well. **briars<br/> +Right as the Friday, soothly for to tell,<br/> +Now shineth it, and now it raineth fast,<br/> +Right so can geary* Venus overcast *changeful<br/> +The heartes of her folk, right as her day<br/> +Is gearful*, right so changeth she array. *changeful<br/> +Seldom is Friday all the weeke like.<br/> +When Arcite had y-sung, he gan to sike*, *sigh<br/> +And sat him down withouten any more:<br/> +“Alas!” quoth he, “the day that I was bore!<br/> +How longe, Juno, through thy cruelty<br/> +Wilt thou warrayen* Thebes the city? *torment<br/> +Alas! y-brought is to confusion<br/> +The blood royal of Cadm’ and Amphion:<br/> +Of Cadmus, which that was the firste man,<br/> +That Thebes built, or first the town began,<br/> +And of the city first was crowned king.<br/> +Of his lineage am I, and his offspring<br/> +By very line, as of the stock royal;<br/> +And now I am *so caitiff and so thrall*, *wretched and enslaved*<br/> +That he that is my mortal enemy,<br/> +I serve him as his squier poorely.<br/> +And yet doth Juno me well more shame,<br/> +For I dare not beknow* mine owen name, *acknowledge <30><br/> +But there as I was wont to hight Arcite,<br/> +Now hight I Philostrate, not worth a mite.<br/> +Alas! thou fell Mars, and alas! Juno,<br/> +Thus hath your ire our lineage all fordo* *undone, ruined<br/> +Save only me, and wretched Palamon,<br/> +That Theseus martyreth in prison.<br/> +And over all this, to slay me utterly,<br/> +Love hath his fiery dart so brenningly* *burningly<br/> +Y-sticked through my true careful heart,<br/> +That shapen was my death erst than my shert. <31><br/> +Ye slay me with your eyen, Emily;<br/> +Ye be the cause wherefore that I die.<br/> +Of all the remnant of mine other care<br/> +Ne set I not the *mountance of a tare*, *value of a straw*<br/> +So that I could do aught to your pleasance.” +</p> + +<p> +And with that word he fell down in a trance<br/> +A longe time; and afterward upstart<br/> +This Palamon, that thought thorough his heart<br/> +He felt a cold sword suddenly to glide:<br/> +For ire he quoke*, no longer would he hide. *quaked<br/> +And when that he had heard Arcite’s tale,<br/> +As he were wood*, with face dead and pale, *mad<br/> +He start him up out of the bushes thick,<br/> +And said: “False Arcita, false traitor wick’*, *wicked<br/> +Now art thou hent*, that lov’st my lady so, *caught<br/> +For whom that I have all this pain and woe,<br/> +And art my blood, and to my counsel sworn,<br/> +As I full oft have told thee herebeforn,<br/> +And hast bejaped* here Duke Theseus, *deceived, imposed upon<br/> +And falsely changed hast thy name thus;<br/> +I will be dead, or elles thou shalt die.<br/> +Thou shalt not love my lady Emily,<br/> +But I will love her only and no mo’;<br/> +For I am Palamon thy mortal foe.<br/> +And though I have no weapon in this place,<br/> +But out of prison am astart* by grace, *escaped<br/> +I dreade* not that either thou shalt die, *doubt<br/> +Or else thou shalt not loven Emily.<br/> +Choose which thou wilt, for thou shalt not astart.” +</p> + +<p> +This Arcite then, with full dispiteous* heart, *wrathful<br/> +When he him knew, and had his tale heard,<br/> +As fierce as lion pulled out a swerd,<br/> +And saide thus; “By God that sitt’th above,<br/> +*N’ere it* that thou art sick, and wood for love, *were it not*<br/> +And eke that thou no weap’n hast in this place,<br/> +Thou should’st never out of this grove pace,<br/> +That thou ne shouldest dien of mine hand.<br/> +For I defy the surety and the band,<br/> +Which that thou sayest I have made to thee.<br/> +What? very fool, think well that love is free;<br/> +And I will love her maugre* all thy might. *despite<br/> +But, for thou art a worthy gentle knight,<br/> +And *wilnest to darraine her by bataille*, *will reclaim her<br/> +Have here my troth, to-morrow I will not fail, by combat*<br/> +Without weeting* of any other wight, *knowledge<br/> +That here I will be founden as a knight,<br/> +And bringe harness* right enough for thee; *armour and arms<br/> +And choose the best, and leave the worst for me.<br/> +And meat and drinke this night will I bring<br/> +Enough for thee, and clothes for thy bedding.<br/> +And if so be that thou my lady win,<br/> +And slay me in this wood that I am in,<br/> +Thou may’st well have thy lady as for me.”<br/> +This Palamon answer’d, “I grant it thee.”<br/> +And thus they be departed till the morrow,<br/> +When each of them hath *laid his faith to borrow*. *pledged his faith* +</p> + +<p> +O Cupid, out of alle charity!<br/> +O Regne* that wilt no fellow have with thee! *queen <32><br/> +Full sooth is said, that love nor lordeship<br/> +Will not, *his thanks*, have any fellowship. *thanks to him*<br/> +Well finden that Arcite and Palamon.<br/> +Arcite is ridd anon unto the town,<br/> +And on the morrow, ere it were daylight,<br/> +Full privily two harness hath he dight*, *prepared<br/> +Both suffisant and meete to darraine* *contest<br/> +The battle in the field betwixt them twain.<br/> +And on his horse, alone as he was born,<br/> +He carrieth all this harness him beforn;<br/> +And in the grove, at time and place y-set,<br/> +This Arcite and this Palamon be met.<br/> +Then change gan the colour of their face;<br/> +Right as the hunter in the regne* of Thrace *kingdom<br/> +That standeth at a gappe with a spear<br/> +When hunted is the lion or the bear,<br/> +And heareth him come rushing in the greves*, *groves<br/> +And breaking both the boughes and the leaves,<br/> +Thinketh, “Here comes my mortal enemy,<br/> +Withoute fail, he must be dead or I;<br/> +For either I must slay him at the gap;<br/> +Or he must slay me, if that me mishap:”<br/> +So fared they, in changing of their hue<br/> +*As far as either of them other knew*. *When they recognised each<br/> +There was no good day, and no saluting, other afar off*<br/> +But straight, withoute wordes rehearsing,<br/> +Evereach of them holp to arm the other,<br/> +As friendly, as he were his owen brother.<br/> +And after that, with sharpe speares strong<br/> +They foined* each at other wonder long. *thrust<br/> +Thou mightest weene*, that this Palamon *think<br/> +In fighting were as a wood* lion, *mad<br/> +And as a cruel tiger was Arcite:<br/> +As wilde boars gan they together smite,<br/> +That froth as white as foam, *for ire wood*. *mad with anger*<br/> +Up to the ancle fought they in their blood.<br/> +And in this wise I let them fighting dwell,<br/> +And forth I will of Theseus you tell. +</p> + +<p> +The Destiny, minister general,<br/> +That executeth in the world o’er all<br/> +The purveyance*, that God hath seen beforn; *foreordination<br/> +So strong it is, that though the world had sworn<br/> +The contrary of a thing by yea or nay,<br/> +Yet some time it shall fallen on a day<br/> +That falleth not eft* in a thousand year. *again<br/> +For certainly our appetites here,<br/> +Be it of war, or peace, or hate, or love,<br/> +All is this ruled by the sight* above. *eye, intelligence, power<br/> +This mean I now by mighty Theseus,<br/> +That for to hunten is so desirous —<br/> +And namely* the greate hart in May — *especially<br/> +That in his bed there dawneth him no day<br/> +That he n’is clad, and ready for to ride<br/> +With hunt and horn, and houndes him beside.<br/> +For in his hunting hath he such delight,<br/> +That it is all his joy and appetite<br/> +To be himself the greate harte’s bane* *destruction<br/> +For after Mars he serveth now Diane.<br/> +Clear was the day, as I have told ere this,<br/> +And Theseus, with alle joy and bliss,<br/> +With his Hippolyta, the faire queen,<br/> +And Emily, y-clothed all in green,<br/> +On hunting be they ridden royally.<br/> +And to the grove, that stood there faste by,<br/> +In which there was an hart, as men him told,<br/> +Duke Theseus the straighte way doth hold,<br/> +And to the laund* he rideth him full right, *plain <33><br/> +There was the hart y-wont to have his flight,<br/> +And over a brook, and so forth on his way.<br/> +This Duke will have a course at him or tway<br/> +With houndes, such as him lust* to command. *pleased<br/> +And when this Duke was come to the laund,<br/> +Under the sun he looked, and anon<br/> +He was ware of Arcite and Palamon,<br/> +That foughte breme*, as it were bulles two. *fiercely<br/> +The brighte swordes wente to and fro<br/> +So hideously, that with the leaste stroke<br/> +It seemed that it woulde fell an oak,<br/> +But what they were, nothing yet he wote*. *knew<br/> +This Duke his courser with his spurres smote,<br/> +*And at a start* he was betwixt them two, *suddenly*<br/> +And pulled out a sword and cried, “Ho!<br/> +No more, on pain of losing of your head.<br/> +By mighty Mars, he shall anon be dead<br/> +That smiteth any stroke, that I may see!<br/> +But tell to me what mister* men ye be, *manner, kind <34><br/> +That be so hardy for to fighte here<br/> +Withoute judge or other officer,<br/> +As though it were in listes royally. <35><br/> +This Palamon answered hastily,<br/> +And saide: “Sir, what needeth wordes mo’?<br/> +We have the death deserved bothe two,<br/> +Two woful wretches be we, and caitives,<br/> +That be accumbered* of our own lives, *burdened<br/> +And as thou art a rightful lord and judge,<br/> +So give us neither mercy nor refuge.<br/> +And slay me first, for sainte charity,<br/> +But slay my fellow eke as well as me.<br/> +Or slay him first; for, though thou know it lite*, *little<br/> +This is thy mortal foe, this is Arcite<br/> +That from thy land is banisht on his head,<br/> +For which he hath deserved to be dead.<br/> +For this is he that came unto thy gate<br/> +And saide, that he highte Philostrate.<br/> +Thus hath he japed* thee full many year, *deceived<br/> +And thou hast made of him thy chief esquier;<br/> +And this is he, that loveth Emily.<br/> +For since the day is come that I shall die<br/> +I make pleinly* my confession, *fully, unreservedly<br/> +That I am thilke* woful Palamon, *that same <36><br/> +That hath thy prison broken wickedly.<br/> +I am thy mortal foe, and it am I<br/> +That so hot loveth Emily the bright,<br/> +That I would die here present in her sight.<br/> +Therefore I aske death and my jewise*. *judgement<br/> +But slay my fellow eke in the same wise,<br/> +For both we have deserved to be slain.” +</p> + +<p> +This worthy Duke answer’d anon again,<br/> +And said, “This is a short conclusion.<br/> +Your own mouth, by your own confession<br/> +Hath damned you, and I will it record;<br/> +It needeth not to pain you with the cord;<br/> +Ye shall be dead, by mighty Mars the Red.<37> +</p> + +<p> +The queen anon for very womanhead<br/> +Began to weep, and so did Emily,<br/> +And all the ladies in the company.<br/> +Great pity was it as it thought them all,<br/> +That ever such a chance should befall,<br/> +For gentle men they were, of great estate,<br/> +And nothing but for love was this debate<br/> +They saw their bloody woundes wide and sore,<br/> +And cried all at once, both less and more,<br/> +“Have mercy, Lord, upon us women all.”<br/> +And on their bare knees adown they fall<br/> +And would have kissed his feet there as he stood,<br/> +Till at the last *aslaked was his mood* *his anger was<br/> +(For pity runneth soon in gentle heart); appeased*<br/> +And though at first for ire he quoke and start<br/> +He hath consider’d shortly in a clause<br/> +The trespass of them both, and eke the cause:<br/> +And although that his ire their guilt accused<br/> +Yet in his reason he them both excused;<br/> +As thus; he thoughte well that every man<br/> +Will help himself in love if that he can,<br/> +And eke deliver himself out of prison.<br/> +Of women, for they wepten ever-in-one:* *continually<br/> +And eke his hearte had compassion<br/> +And in his gentle heart he thought anon,<br/> +And soft unto himself he saide: “Fie<br/> +Upon a lord that will have no mercy,<br/> +But be a lion both in word and deed,<br/> +To them that be in repentance and dread,<br/> +As well as-to a proud dispiteous* man *unpitying<br/> +That will maintaine what he first began.<br/> +That lord hath little of discretion,<br/> +That in such case *can no division*: *can make no distinction*<br/> +But weigheth pride and humbless *after one*.” *alike*<br/> +And shortly, when his ire is thus agone,<br/> +He gan to look on them with eyen light*, *gentle, lenient*<br/> +And spake these same wordes *all on height.* *aloud* +</p> + +<p> +“The god of love, ah! benedicite*, *bless ye him<br/> +How mighty and how great a lord is he!<br/> +Against his might there gaine* none obstacles, *avail, conquer<br/> +He may be called a god for his miracles<br/> +For he can maken at his owen guise<br/> +Of every heart, as that him list devise.<br/> +Lo here this Arcite, and this Palamon,<br/> +That quietly were out of my prison,<br/> +And might have lived in Thebes royally,<br/> +And weet* I am their mortal enemy, *knew<br/> +And that their death li’th in my might also,<br/> +And yet hath love, *maugre their eyen two*, *in spite of their eyes*<br/> +Y-brought them hither bothe for to die.<br/> +Now look ye, is not this an high folly?<br/> +Who may not be a fool, if but he love?<br/> +Behold, for Godde’s sake that sits above,<br/> +See how they bleed! be they not well array’d?<br/> +Thus hath their lord, the god of love, them paid<br/> +Their wages and their fees for their service;<br/> +And yet they weene for to be full wise,<br/> +That serve love, for aught that may befall.<br/> +But this is yet the beste game* of all, *joke<br/> +That she, for whom they have this jealousy,<br/> +Can them therefor as muchel thank as me.<br/> +She wot no more of all this *hote fare*, *hot behaviour*<br/> +By God, than wot a cuckoo or an hare.<br/> +But all must be assayed hot or cold;<br/> +A man must be a fool, or young or old;<br/> +I wot it by myself *full yore agone*: *long years ago*<br/> +For in my time a servant was I one.<br/> +And therefore since I know of love’s pain,<br/> +And wot how sore it can a man distrain*, *distress<br/> +As he that oft hath been caught in his last*, *snare <38><br/> +I you forgive wholly this trespass,<br/> +At request of the queen that kneeleth here,<br/> +And eke of Emily, my sister dear.<br/> +And ye shall both anon unto me swear,<br/> +That never more ye shall my country dere* *injure<br/> +Nor make war upon me night nor day,<br/> +But be my friends in alle that ye may.<br/> +I you forgive this trespass *every deal*. *completely*<br/> +And they him sware *his asking* fair and well, *what he asked*<br/> +And him of lordship and of mercy pray’d,<br/> +And he them granted grace, and thus he said: +</p> + +<p> +“To speak of royal lineage and richess,<br/> +Though that she were a queen or a princess,<br/> +Each of you both is worthy doubteless<br/> +To wedde when time is; but natheless<br/> +I speak as for my sister Emily,<br/> +For whom ye have this strife and jealousy,<br/> +Ye wot* yourselves, she may not wed the two *know<br/> +At once, although ye fight for evermo:<br/> +But one of you, *all be him loth or lief,* *whether or not he wishes*<br/> +He must *go pipe into an ivy leaf*: *“go whistle”*<br/> +This is to say, she may not have you both,<br/> +All be ye never so jealous, nor so wroth.<br/> +And therefore I you put in this degree,<br/> +That each of you shall have his destiny<br/> +As *him is shape*; and hearken in what wise *as is decreed for him*<br/> +Lo hear your end of that I shall devise.<br/> +My will is this, for plain conclusion<br/> +Withouten any replication*, *reply<br/> +If that you liketh, take it for the best,<br/> +That evereach of you shall go where *him lest*, *he pleases<br/> +Freely without ransom or danger;<br/> +And this day fifty weekes, *farre ne nerre*, *neither more nor less*<br/> +Evereach of you shall bring an hundred knights,<br/> +Armed for listes up at alle rights<br/> +All ready to darraine* her by bataille, *contend for<br/> +And this behete* I you withoute fail *promise<br/> +Upon my troth, and as I am a knight,<br/> +That whether of you bothe that hath might,<br/> +That is to say, that whether he or thou<br/> +May with his hundred, as I spake of now,<br/> +Slay his contrary, or out of listes drive,<br/> +Him shall I given Emily to wive,<br/> +To whom that fortune gives so fair a grace.<br/> +The listes shall I make here in this place.<br/> +*And God so wisly on my soule rue*, *may God as surely have<br/> +As I shall even judge be and true. mercy on my soul*<br/> +Ye shall none other ende with me maken<br/> +Than one of you shalle be dead or taken.<br/> +And if you thinketh this is well y-said,<br/> +Say your advice*, and hold yourselves apaid**. *opinion **satisfied<br/> +This is your end, and your conclusion.”<br/> +Who looketh lightly now but Palamon?<br/> +Who springeth up for joye but Arcite?<br/> +Who could it tell, or who could it indite,<br/> +The joye that is maked in the place<br/> +When Theseus hath done so fair a grace?<br/> +But down on knees went every *manner wight*, *kind of person*<br/> +And thanked him with all their heartes’ might,<br/> +And namely* these Thebans *ofte sithe*. *especially *oftentimes*<br/> +And thus with good hope and with hearte blithe<br/> +They take their leave, and homeward gan they ride<br/> +To Thebes-ward, with his old walles wide. +</p> + +<p> +I trow men woulde deem it negligence,<br/> +If I forgot to telle the dispence* *expenditure<br/> +Of Theseus, that went so busily<br/> +To maken up the listes royally,<br/> +That such a noble theatre as it was,<br/> +I dare well say, in all this world there n’as*. *was not<br/> +The circuit a mile was about,<br/> +Walled of stone, and ditched all without.<br/> +*Round was the shape, in manner of compass,<br/> +Full of degrees, the height of sixty pas* *see note <39>*<br/> +That when a man was set on one degree<br/> +He letted* not his fellow for to see. *hindered<br/> +Eastward there stood a gate of marble white,<br/> +Westward right such another opposite.<br/> +And, shortly to conclude, such a place<br/> +Was never on earth made in so little space,<br/> +For in the land there was no craftes-man,<br/> +That geometry or arsmetrike* can**, *arithmetic **knew<br/> +Nor pourtrayor*, nor carver of images, *portrait painter<br/> +That Theseus ne gave him meat and wages<br/> +The theatre to make and to devise.<br/> +And for to do his rite and sacrifice<br/> +He eastward hath upon the gate above,<br/> +In worship of Venus, goddess of love,<br/> +*Done make* an altar and an oratory; *caused to be made*<br/> +And westward, in the mind and in memory<br/> +Of Mars, he maked hath right such another,<br/> +That coste largely of gold a fother*. *a great amount<br/> +And northward, in a turret on the wall,<br/> +Of alabaster white and red coral<br/> +An oratory riche for to see,<br/> +In worship of Diane of chastity,<br/> +Hath Theseus done work in noble wise.<br/> +But yet had I forgotten to devise* *describe<br/> +The noble carving, and the portraitures,<br/> +The shape, the countenance of the figures<br/> +That weren in there oratories three. +</p> + +<p> +First in the temple of Venus may’st thou see<br/> +Wrought on the wall, full piteous to behold,<br/> +The broken sleepes, and the sikes* cold, *sighes<br/> +The sacred teares, and the waimentings*, *lamentings<br/> +The fiery strokes of the desirings,<br/> +That Love’s servants in this life endure;<br/> +The oathes, that their covenants assure.<br/> +Pleasance and Hope, Desire, Foolhardiness,<br/> +Beauty and Youth, and Bawdry and Richess,<br/> +Charms and Sorc’ry, Leasings* and Flattery, *falsehoods<br/> +Dispence, Business, and Jealousy,<br/> +That wore of yellow goldes* a garland, *sunflowers <40><br/> +And had a cuckoo sitting on her hand,<br/> +Feasts, instruments, and caroles and dances,<br/> +Lust and array, and all the circumstances<br/> +Of Love, which I reckon’d and reckon shall<br/> +In order, were painted on the wall,<br/> +And more than I can make of mention.<br/> +For soothly all the mount of Citheron,<41><br/> +Where Venus hath her principal dwelling,<br/> +Was showed on the wall in pourtraying,<br/> +With all the garden, and the lustiness*. *pleasantness<br/> +Nor was forgot the porter Idleness,<br/> +Nor Narcissus the fair of *yore agone*, *olden times*<br/> +Nor yet the folly of King Solomon,<br/> +Nor yet the greate strength of Hercules,<br/> +Th’ enchantments of Medea and Circes,<br/> +Nor of Turnus the hardy fierce courage,<br/> +The rich Croesus *caitif in servage.* <42> *abased into slavery*<br/> +Thus may ye see, that wisdom nor richess,<br/> +Beauty, nor sleight, nor strength, nor hardiness<br/> +Ne may with Venus holde champartie*, *divided possession <43><br/> +For as her liste the world may she gie*. *guide<br/> +Lo, all these folk so caught were in her las* *snare<br/> +Till they for woe full often said, Alas!<br/> +Suffice these ensamples one or two,<br/> +Although I could reckon a thousand mo’. +</p> + +<p> +The statue of Venus, glorious to see<br/> +Was naked floating in the large sea,<br/> +And from the navel down all cover’d was<br/> +With waves green, and bright as any glass.<br/> +A citole <44> in her right hand hadde she,<br/> +And on her head, full seemly for to see,<br/> +A rose garland fresh, and well smelling,<br/> +Above her head her doves flickering<br/> +Before her stood her sone Cupido,<br/> +Upon his shoulders winges had he two;<br/> +And blind he was, as it is often seen;<br/> +A bow he bare, and arrows bright and keen. +</p> + +<p> +Why should I not as well eke tell you all<br/> +The portraiture, that was upon the wall<br/> +Within the temple of mighty Mars the Red?<br/> +All painted was the wall in length and brede* *breadth<br/> +Like to the estres* of the grisly place *interior chambers<br/> +That hight the great temple of Mars in Thrace,<br/> +In thilke* cold and frosty region, *that<br/> +There as Mars hath his sovereign mansion.<br/> +In which there dwelled neither man nor beast,<br/> +With knotty gnarry* barren trees old *gnarled<br/> +Of stubbes sharp and hideous to behold;<br/> +In which there ran a rumble and a sough*, *groaning noise<br/> +As though a storm should bursten every bough:<br/> +And downward from an hill under a bent* *slope<br/> +There stood the temple of Mars Armipotent,<br/> +Wrought all of burnish’d steel, of which th’ entry<br/> +Was long and strait, and ghastly for to see.<br/> +And thereout came *a rage and such a vise*, *such a furious voice*<br/> +That it made all the gates for to rise.<br/> +The northern light in at the doore shone,<br/> +For window on the walle was there none<br/> +Through which men mighten any light discern.<br/> +The doors were all of adamant etern,<br/> +Y-clenched *overthwart and ende-long* *crossways and lengthways*<br/> +With iron tough, and, for to make it strong,<br/> +Every pillar the temple to sustain<br/> +Was tunne-great*, of iron bright and sheen. *thick as a tun (barrel)<br/> +There saw I first the dark imagining<br/> +Of felony, and all the compassing;<br/> +The cruel ire, as red as any glede*, *live coal<br/> +The picke-purse<45>, and eke the pale dread;<br/> +The smiler with the knife under the cloak,<br/> +The shepen* burning with the blacke smoke *stable <46><br/> +The treason of the murd’ring in the bed,<br/> +The open war, with woundes all be-bled;<br/> +Conteke* with bloody knife, and sharp menace. *contention, discord<br/> +All full of chirking* was that sorry place. *creaking, jarring noise<br/> +The slayer of himself eke saw I there,<br/> +His hearte-blood had bathed all his hair:<br/> +The nail y-driven in the shode* at night, *hair of the head <47><br/> +The colde death, with mouth gaping upright.<br/> +Amiddes of the temple sat Mischance,<br/> +With discomfort and sorry countenance;<br/> +Eke saw I Woodness* laughing in his rage, *Madness<br/> +Armed Complaint, Outhees*, and fierce Outrage; *Outcry<br/> +The carrain* in the bush, with throat y-corve**, *corpse **slashed<br/> +A thousand slain, and not *of qualm y-storve*; *dead of sickness*<br/> +The tyrant, with the prey by force y-reft;<br/> +The town destroy’d, that there was nothing left.<br/> +Yet saw I brent* the shippes hoppesteres, <48> *burnt<br/> +The hunter strangled with the wilde bears:<br/> +The sow freting* the child right in the cradle; *devouring <49><br/> +The cook scalded, for all his longe ladle.<br/> +Nor was forgot, *by th’infortune of Mart* *through the misfortune<br/> +The carter overridden with his cart; of war*<br/> +Under the wheel full low he lay adown.<br/> +There were also of Mars’ division,<br/> +The armourer, the bowyer*, and the smith, *maker of bows<br/> +That forgeth sharp swordes on his stith*. *anvil<br/> +And all above depainted in a tower<br/> +Saw I Conquest, sitting in great honour,<br/> +With thilke* sharpe sword over his head *that<br/> +Hanging by a subtle y-twined thread.<br/> +Painted the slaughter was of Julius<50>,<br/> +Of cruel Nero, and Antonius:<br/> +Although at that time they were yet unborn,<br/> +Yet was their death depainted there beforn,<br/> +By menacing of Mars, right by figure,<br/> +So was it showed in that portraiture,<br/> +As is depainted in the stars above,<br/> +Who shall be slain, or elles dead for love.<br/> +Sufficeth one ensample in stories old,<br/> +I may not reckon them all, though I wo’ld. +</p> + +<p> +The statue of Mars upon a carte* stood *chariot<br/> +Armed, and looked grim as he were wood*, *mad<br/> +And over his head there shone two figures<br/> +Of starres, that be cleped in scriptures,<br/> +That one Puella, that other Rubeus. <51><br/> +This god of armes was arrayed thus:<br/> +A wolf there stood before him at his feet<br/> +With eyen red, and of a man he eat:<br/> +With subtle pencil painted was this story,<br/> +In redouting* of Mars and of his glory. *reverance, fear +</p> + +<p> +Now to the temple of Dian the chaste<br/> +As shortly as I can I will me haste,<br/> +To telle you all the descriptioun.<br/> +Depainted be the walles up and down<br/> +Of hunting and of shamefast chastity.<br/> +There saw I how woful Calistope,<52><br/> +When that Dian aggrieved was with her,<br/> +Was turned from a woman to a bear,<br/> +And after was she made the lodestar*: *pole star<br/> +Thus was it painted, I can say no far*; *farther<br/> +Her son is eke a star as men may see.<br/> +There saw I Dane <53> turn’d into a tree,<br/> +I meane not the goddess Diane,<br/> +But Peneus’ daughter, which that hight Dane.<br/> +There saw I Actaeon an hart y-maked*, *made<br/> +For vengeance that he saw Dian all naked:<br/> +I saw how that his houndes have him caught,<br/> +And freten* him, for that they knew him not. *devour<br/> +Yet painted was, a little farthermore<br/> +How Atalanta hunted the wild boar;<br/> +And Meleager, and many other mo’,<br/> +For which Diana wrought them care and woe.<br/> +There saw I many another wondrous story,<br/> +The which me list not drawen to memory.<br/> +This goddess on an hart full high was set*, *seated<br/> +With smalle houndes all about her feet,<br/> +And underneath her feet she had a moon,<br/> +Waxing it was, and shoulde wane soon.<br/> +In gaudy green her statue clothed was,<br/> +With bow in hand, and arrows in a case*. *quiver<br/> +Her eyen caste she full low adown,<br/> +Where Pluto hath his darke regioun.<br/> +A woman travailing was her beforn,<br/> +But, for her child so longe was unborn,<br/> +Full piteously Lucina <54> gan she call,<br/> +And saide; “Help, for thou may’st best of all.”<br/> +Well could he painte lifelike that it wrought;<br/> +With many a florin he the hues had bought.<br/> +Now be these listes made, and Theseus,<br/> +That at his greate cost arrayed thus<br/> +The temples, and the theatre every deal*, *part <55><br/> +When it was done, him liked wonder well. +</p> + +<p> +But stint* I will of Theseus a lite**, *cease speaking **little<br/> +And speak of Palamon and of Arcite.<br/> +The day approacheth of their returning,<br/> +That evereach an hundred knights should bring,<br/> +The battle to darraine* as I you told; *contest<br/> +And to Athens, their covenant to hold,<br/> +Hath ev’reach of them brought an hundred knights,<br/> +Well-armed for the war at alle rights.<br/> +And sickerly* there trowed** many a man, *surely <56> **believed<br/> +That never, sithen* that the world began, *since<br/> +For to speaken of knighthood of their hand,<br/> +As far as God hath maked sea and land,<br/> +Was, of so few, so noble a company.<br/> +For every wight that loved chivalry,<br/> +And would, *his thankes, have a passant name*, *thanks to his own<br/> +Had prayed, that he might be of that game, efforts, have a<br/> +And well was him, that thereto chosen was. surpassing name*<br/> +For if there fell to-morrow such a case,<br/> +Ye knowe well, that every lusty knight,<br/> +That loveth par amour, and hath his might<br/> +Were it in Engleland, or elleswhere,<br/> +They would, their thankes, willen to be there,<br/> +T’ fight for a lady; Benedicite,<br/> +It were a lusty* sighte for to see. *pleasing<br/> +And right so fared they with Palamon;<br/> +With him there wente knightes many one.<br/> +Some will be armed in an habergeon,<br/> +And in a breast-plate, and in a gipon*; *short doublet.<br/> +And some will have *a pair of plates* large; *back and front armour*<br/> +And some will have a Prusse* shield, or targe; *Prussian<br/> +Some will be armed on their legges weel;<br/> +Some have an axe, and some a mace of steel.<br/> +There is no newe guise*, but it was old. *fashion<br/> +Armed they weren, as I have you told,<br/> +Evereach after his opinion.<br/> +There may’st thou see coming with Palamon<br/> +Licurgus himself, the great king of Thrace:<br/> +Black was his beard, and manly was his face.<br/> +The circles of his eyen in his head<br/> +They glowed betwixte yellow and red,<br/> +And like a griffin looked he about,<br/> +With kemped* haires on his browes stout; *combed<57><br/> +His limbs were great, his brawns were hard and strong,<br/> +His shoulders broad, his armes round and long.<br/> +And as the guise* was in his country, *fashion<br/> +Full high upon a car of gold stood he,<br/> +With foure white bulles in the trace.<br/> +Instead of coat-armour on his harness,<br/> +With yellow nails, and bright as any gold,<br/> +He had a beare’s skin, coal-black for old*. *age<br/> +His long hair was y-kempt behind his back,<br/> +As any raven’s feather it shone for black.<br/> +A wreath of gold *arm-great*, of huge weight, *thick as a man’s arm*<br/> +Upon his head sate, full of stones bright,<br/> +Of fine rubies and clear diamants.<br/> +About his car there wente white alauns*, *greyhounds <58><br/> +Twenty and more, as great as any steer,<br/> +To hunt the lion or the wilde bear,<br/> +And follow’d him, with muzzle fast y-bound,<br/> +Collars of gold, and torettes* filed round. *rings<br/> +An hundred lordes had he in his rout* *retinue<br/> +Armed full well, with heartes stern and stout. +</p> + +<p> +With Arcita, in stories as men find,<br/> +The great Emetrius the king of Ind,<br/> +Upon a *steede bay* trapped in steel, *bay horse*<br/> +Cover’d with cloth of gold diapred* well, *decorated<br/> +Came riding like the god of armes, Mars.<br/> +His coat-armour was of *a cloth of Tars*, *a kind of silk*<br/> +Couched* with pearls white and round and great *trimmed<br/> +His saddle was of burnish’d gold new beat;<br/> +A mantelet on his shoulders hanging,<br/> +Bretful* of rubies red, as fire sparkling. *brimful<br/> +His crispe hair like ringes was y-run,<br/> +And that was yellow, glittering as the sun.<br/> +His nose was high, his eyen bright citrine*, *pale yellow<br/> +His lips were round, his colour was sanguine,<br/> +A fewe fracknes* in his face y-sprent**, *freckles **sprinkled<br/> +Betwixte yellow and black somedeal y-ment* *mixed <59><br/> +And as a lion he *his looking cast* *cast about his eyes*<br/> +Of five and twenty year his age I cast* *reckon<br/> +His beard was well begunnen for to spring;<br/> +His voice was as a trumpet thundering.<br/> +Upon his head he wore of laurel green<br/> +A garland fresh and lusty to be seen;<br/> +Upon his hand he bare, for his delight,<br/> +An eagle tame, as any lily white.<br/> +An hundred lordes had he with him there,<br/> +All armed, save their heads, in all their gear,<br/> +Full richely in alle manner things.<br/> +For trust ye well, that earles, dukes, and kings<br/> +Were gather’d in this noble company,<br/> +For love, and for increase of chivalry.<br/> +About this king there ran on every part<br/> +Full many a tame lion and leopart.<br/> +And in this wise these lordes *all and some* *all and sundry*<br/> +Be on the Sunday to the city come<br/> +Aboute prime<60>, and in the town alight. +</p> + +<p> +This Theseus, this Duke, this worthy knight<br/> +When he had brought them into his city,<br/> +And inned* them, ev’reach at his degree, *lodged<br/> +He feasteth them, and doth so great labour<br/> +To *easen them*, and do them all honour, *make them comfortable*<br/> +That yet men weene* that no mannes wit *think<br/> +Of none estate could amenden* it. *improve<br/> +The minstrelsy, the service at the feast,<br/> +The greate giftes to the most and least,<br/> +The rich array of Theseus’ palace,<br/> +Nor who sate first or last upon the dais.<61><br/> +What ladies fairest be, or best dancing<br/> +Or which of them can carol best or sing,<br/> +Or who most feelingly speaketh of love;<br/> +What hawkes sitten on the perch above,<br/> +What houndes liggen* on the floor adown, *lie<br/> +Of all this now make I no mentioun<br/> +But of th’effect; that thinketh me the best<br/> +Now comes the point, and hearken if you lest.* *please +</p> + +<p> +The Sunday night, ere day began to spring,<br/> +When Palamon the larke hearde sing,<br/> +Although it were not day by houres two,<br/> +Yet sang the lark, and Palamon right tho* *then<br/> +With holy heart, and with an high courage,<br/> +Arose, to wenden* on his pilgrimage *go<br/> +Unto the blissful Cithera benign,<br/> +I meane Venus, honourable and digne*. *worthy<br/> +And in her hour <62> he walketh forth a pace<br/> +Unto the listes, where her temple was,<br/> +And down he kneeleth, and with humble cheer* *demeanour<br/> +And hearte sore, he said as ye shall hear. +</p> + +<p> +“Fairest of fair, O lady mine Venus,<br/> +Daughter to Jove, and spouse of Vulcanus,<br/> +Thou gladder of the mount of Citheron!<41><br/> +For thilke love thou haddest to Adon <63><br/> +Have pity on my bitter teares smart,<br/> +And take mine humble prayer to thine heart.<br/> +Alas! I have no language to tell<br/> +Th’effecte, nor the torment of mine hell;<br/> +Mine hearte may mine harmes not betray;<br/> +I am so confused, that I cannot say.<br/> +But mercy, lady bright, that knowest well<br/> +My thought, and seest what harm that I feel.<br/> +Consider all this, and *rue upon* my sore, *take pity on*<br/> +As wisly* as I shall for evermore *truly<br/> +Enforce my might, thy true servant to be,<br/> +And holde war alway with chastity:<br/> +That make I mine avow*, so ye me help. *vow, promise<br/> +I keepe not of armes for to yelp,* *boast<br/> +Nor ask I not to-morrow to have victory,<br/> +Nor renown in this case, nor vaine glory<br/> +Of *prize of armes*, blowing up and down, *praise for valour*<br/> +But I would have fully possessioun<br/> +Of Emily, and die in her service;<br/> +Find thou the manner how, and in what wise.<br/> +I *recke not but* it may better be *do not know whether*<br/> +To have vict’ry of them, or they of me,<br/> +So that I have my lady in mine arms.<br/> +For though so be that Mars is god of arms,<br/> +Your virtue is so great in heaven above,<br/> +That, if you list, I shall well have my love.<br/> +Thy temple will I worship evermo’,<br/> +And on thine altar, where I ride or go,<br/> +I will do sacrifice, and fires bete*. *make, kindle<br/> +And if ye will not so, my lady sweet,<br/> +Then pray I you, to-morrow with a spear<br/> +That Arcita me through the hearte bear<br/> +Then reck I not, when I have lost my life,<br/> +Though that Arcita win her to his wife.<br/> +This is th’ effect and end of my prayere, —<br/> +Give me my love, thou blissful lady dear.”<br/> +When th’ orison was done of Palamon,<br/> +His sacrifice he did, and that anon,<br/> +Full piteously, with alle circumstances,<br/> +*All tell I not as now* his observances. *although I tell not now*<br/> +But at the last the statue of Venus shook,<br/> +And made a signe, whereby that he took<br/> +That his prayer accepted was that day.<br/> +For though the signe shewed a delay,<br/> +Yet wist he well that granted was his boon;<br/> +And with glad heart he went him home full soon. +</p> + +<p> +The third hour unequal <64> that Palamon<br/> +Began to Venus’ temple for to gon,<br/> +Up rose the sun, and up rose Emily,<br/> +And to the temple of Dian gan hie.<br/> +Her maidens, that she thither with her lad*, *led<br/> +Th’ incense, the clothes, and the remnant all<br/> +That to the sacrifice belonge shall,<br/> +The hornes full of mead, as was the guise;<br/> +There lacked nought to do her sacrifice.<br/> +Smoking* the temple full of clothes fair, *draping <65><br/> +This Emily with hearte debonnair* *gentle<br/> +Her body wash’d with water of a well.<br/> +But how she did her rite I dare not tell;<br/> +But* it be any thing in general; *unless<br/> +And yet it were a game* to hearen all *pleasure<br/> +To him that meaneth well it were no charge:<br/> +But it is good a man to *be at large*. *do as he will*<br/> +Her bright hair combed was, untressed all.<br/> +A coronet of green oak cerriall <66><br/> +Upon her head was set full fair and meet.<br/> +Two fires on the altar gan she bete,<br/> +And did her thinges, as men may behold<br/> +In Stace of Thebes <67>, and these bookes old.<br/> +When kindled was the fire, with piteous cheer<br/> +Unto Dian she spake as ye may hear. +</p> + +<p> +“O chaste goddess of the woodes green,<br/> +To whom both heav’n and earth and sea is seen,<br/> +Queen of the realm of Pluto dark and low,<br/> +Goddess of maidens, that mine heart hast know<br/> +Full many a year, and wost* what I desire, *knowest<br/> +To keep me from the vengeance of thine ire,<br/> +That Actaeon aboughte* cruelly: *earned; suffered from<br/> +Chaste goddess, well wottest thou that I<br/> +Desire to be a maiden all my life,<br/> +Nor never will I be no love nor wife.<br/> +I am, thou wost*, yet of thy company, *knowest<br/> +A maid, and love hunting and venery*, *field sports<br/> +And for to walken in the woodes wild,<br/> +And not to be a wife, and be with child.<br/> +Nought will I know the company of man.<br/> +Now help me, lady, since ye may and can,<br/> +For those three formes <68> that thou hast in thee.<br/> +And Palamon, that hath such love to me,<br/> +And eke Arcite, that loveth me so sore,<br/> +This grace I pray thee withoute more,<br/> +As sende love and peace betwixt them two:<br/> +And from me turn away their heartes so,<br/> +That all their hote love, and their desire,<br/> +And all their busy torment, and their fire,<br/> +Be queint*, or turn’d into another place. *quenched<br/> +And if so be thou wilt do me no grace,<br/> +Or if my destiny be shapen so<br/> +That I shall needes have one of them two,<br/> +So send me him that most desireth me.<br/> +Behold, goddess of cleane chastity,<br/> +The bitter tears that on my cheekes fall.<br/> +Since thou art maid, and keeper of us all,<br/> +My maidenhead thou keep and well conserve,<br/> +And, while I live, a maid I will thee serve. +</p> + +<p> +The fires burn upon the altar clear,<br/> +While Emily was thus in her prayere:<br/> +But suddenly she saw a sighte quaint*. *strange<br/> +For right anon one of the fire’s *queint<br/> +And quick’d* again, and after that anon *went out and revived*<br/> +That other fire was queint, and all agone:<br/> +And as it queint, it made a whisteling,<br/> +As doth a brande wet in its burning.<br/> +And at the brandes end outran anon<br/> +As it were bloody droppes many one:<br/> +For which so sore aghast was Emily,<br/> +That she was well-nigh mad, and gan to cry,<br/> +For she ne wiste what it signified;<br/> +But onely for feare thus she cried,<br/> +And wept, that it was pity for to hear.<br/> +And therewithal Diana gan appear<br/> +With bow in hand, right as an hunteress,<br/> +And saide; “Daughter, stint* thine heaviness. *cease<br/> +Among the goddes high it is affirm’d,<br/> +And by eternal word writ and confirm’d,<br/> +Thou shalt be wedded unto one of tho* *those<br/> +That have for thee so muche care and woe:<br/> +But unto which of them I may not tell.<br/> +Farewell, for here I may no longer dwell.<br/> +The fires which that on mine altar brenn*, *burn<br/> +Shall thee declaren, ere that thou go henne*, *hence<br/> +Thine aventure of love, as in this case.”<br/> +And with that word, the arrows in the case* *quiver<br/> +Of the goddess did clatter fast and ring,<br/> +And forth she went, and made a vanishing,<br/> +For which this Emily astonied was,<br/> +And saide; “What amounteth this, alas!<br/> +I put me under thy protection,<br/> +Diane, and in thy disposition.”<br/> +And home she went anon the nexte* way. *nearest<br/> +This is th’ effect, there is no more to say. +</p> + +<p> +The nexte hour of Mars following this<br/> +Arcite to the temple walked is<br/> +Of fierce Mars, to do his sacrifice<br/> +With all the rites of his pagan guise.<br/> +With piteous* heart and high devotion *pious<br/> +Right thus to Mars he said his orison<br/> +“O stronge god, that in the regnes* old *realms<br/> +Of Thrace honoured art, and lord y-hold* *held<br/> +And hast in every regne, and every land<br/> +Of armes all the bridle in thine hand,<br/> +And *them fortunest as thee list devise*, *send them fortune<br/> +Accept of me my piteous sacrifice. as you please*<br/> +If so be that my youthe may deserve,<br/> +And that my might be worthy for to serve<br/> +Thy godhead, that I may be one of thine,<br/> +Then pray I thee to *rue upon my pine*, *pity my anguish*<br/> +For thilke* pain, and thilke hote fire, *that<br/> +In which thou whilom burned’st for desire<br/> +Whenne that thou usedest* the beauty *enjoyed<br/> +Of faire young Venus, fresh and free,<br/> +And haddest her in armes at thy will:<br/> +And though thee ones on a time misfill*, *were unlucky<br/> +When Vulcanus had caught thee in his las*, *net <69><br/> +And found thee ligging* by his wife, alas! *lying<br/> +For thilke sorrow that was in thine heart,<br/> +Have ruth* as well upon my paine’s smart. *pity<br/> +I am young and unconning*, as thou know’st, *ignorant, simple<br/> +And, as I trow*, with love offended most *believe<br/> +That e’er was any living creature:<br/> +For she, that doth* me all this woe endure, *causes<br/> +Ne recketh ne’er whether I sink or fleet* *swim<br/> +And well I wot, ere she me mercy hete*, *promise, vouchsafe<br/> +I must with strengthe win her in the place:<br/> +And well I wot, withoute help or grace<br/> +Of thee, ne may my strengthe not avail:<br/> +Then help me, lord, to-morr’w in my bataille,<br/> +For thilke fire that whilom burned thee,<br/> +As well as this fire that now burneth me;<br/> +And do* that I to-morr’w may have victory. *cause<br/> +Mine be the travail, all thine be the glory.<br/> +Thy sovereign temple will I most honour<br/> +Of any place, and alway most labour<br/> +In thy pleasance and in thy craftes strong.<br/> +And in thy temple I will my banner hong*, *hang<br/> +And all the armes of my company,<br/> +And evermore, until that day I die,<br/> +Eternal fire I will before thee find<br/> +And eke to this my vow I will me bind:<br/> +My beard, my hair that hangeth long adown,<br/> +That never yet hath felt offension* *indignity<br/> +Of razor nor of shears, I will thee give,<br/> +And be thy true servant while I live.<br/> +Now, lord, have ruth upon my sorrows sore,<br/> +Give me the victory, I ask no more.” +</p> + +<p> +The prayer stint* of Arcita the strong, *ended<br/> +The ringes on the temple door that hong,<br/> +And eke the doores, clattered full fast,<br/> +Of which Arcita somewhat was aghast.<br/> +The fires burn’d upon the altar bright,<br/> +That it gan all the temple for to light;<br/> +A sweete smell anon the ground up gaf*, *gave<br/> +And Arcita anon his hand up haf*, *lifted<br/> +And more incense into the fire he cast,<br/> +With other rites more and at the last<br/> +The statue of Mars began his hauberk ring;<br/> +And with that sound he heard a murmuring<br/> +Full low and dim, that saide thus, “Victory.”<br/> +For which he gave to Mars honour and glory.<br/> +And thus with joy, and hope well to fare,<br/> +Arcite anon unto his inn doth fare.<br/> +As fain* as fowl is of the brighte sun. *glad +</p> + +<p> +And right anon such strife there is begun<br/> +For thilke* granting, in the heav’n above, *that<br/> +Betwixte Venus the goddess of love,<br/> +And Mars the sterne god armipotent,<br/> +That Jupiter was busy it to stent*: *stop<br/> +Till that the pale Saturnus the cold,<70><br/> +That knew so many of adventures old,<br/> +Found in his old experience such an art,<br/> +That he full soon hath pleased every part.<br/> +As sooth is said, eld* hath great advantage, *age<br/> +In eld is bothe wisdom and usage*: *experience<br/> +Men may the old out-run, but not out-rede*. *outwit<br/> +Saturn anon, to stint the strife and drede,<br/> +Albeit that it is against his kind,* *nature<br/> +Of all this strife gan a remedy find.<br/> +“My deare daughter Venus,” quoth Saturn,<br/> +“My course*, that hath so wide for to turn, *orbit <71><br/> +Hath more power than wot any man.<br/> +Mine is the drowning in the sea so wan;<br/> +Mine is the prison in the darke cote*, *cell<br/> +Mine the strangling and hanging by the throat,<br/> +The murmur, and the churlish rebelling,<br/> +The groyning*, and the privy poisoning. *discontent<br/> +I do vengeance and plein* correction, *full<br/> +I dwell in the sign of the lion.<br/> +Mine is the ruin of the highe halls,<br/> +The falling of the towers and the walls<br/> +Upon the miner or the carpenter:<br/> +I slew Samson in shaking the pillar:<br/> +Mine also be the maladies cold,<br/> +The darke treasons, and the castes* old: *plots<br/> +My looking is the father of pestilence.<br/> +Now weep no more, I shall do diligence<br/> +That Palamon, that is thine owen knight,<br/> +Shall have his lady, as thou hast him hight*. *promised<br/> +Though Mars shall help his knight, yet natheless<br/> +Betwixte you there must sometime be peace:<br/> +All be ye not of one complexion,<br/> +That each day causeth such division,<br/> +I am thine ayel*, ready at thy will; *grandfather <72><br/> +Weep now no more, I shall thy lust* fulfil.” *pleasure<br/> +Now will I stenten* of the gods above, *cease speaking<br/> +Of Mars, and of Venus, goddess of love,<br/> +And telle you as plainly as I can<br/> +The great effect, for which that I began. +</p> + +<p> +Great was the feast in Athens thilke* day; *that<br/> +And eke the lusty season of that May<br/> +Made every wight to be in such pleasance,<br/> +That all that Monday jousten they and dance,<br/> +And spenden it in Venus’ high service.<br/> +But by the cause that they shoulde rise<br/> +Early a-morrow for to see that fight,<br/> +Unto their reste wente they at night.<br/> +And on the morrow, when the day gan spring,<br/> +Of horse and harness* noise and clattering *armour<br/> +There was in the hostelries all about:<br/> +And to the palace rode there many a rout* *train, retinue<br/> +Of lordes, upon steedes and palfreys.<br/> +There mayst thou see devising* of harness *decoration<br/> +So uncouth* and so rich, and wrought so weel *unkown, rare<br/> +Of goldsmithry, of brouding*, and of steel; *embroidery<br/> +The shieldes bright, the testers*, and trappures** *helmets<73><br/> +Gold-hewen helmets, hauberks, coat-armures; **trappings<br/> +Lordes in parements* on their coursers, *ornamental garb <74>;<br/> +Knightes of retinue, and eke squiers,<br/> +Nailing the spears, and helmes buckeling,<br/> +Gniding* of shieldes, with lainers** lacing; *polishing <75><br/> +There as need is, they were nothing idle: **lanyards<br/> +The foamy steeds upon the golden bridle<br/> +Gnawing, and fast the armourers also<br/> +With file and hammer pricking to and fro;<br/> +Yeomen on foot, and knaves* many one *servants<br/> +With shorte staves, thick* as they may gon**; *close **walk<br/> +Pipes, trumpets, nakeres*, and clariouns, *drums <76><br/> +That in the battle blowe bloody souns;<br/> +The palace full of people up and down,<br/> +There three, there ten, holding their questioun*, *conversation<br/> +Divining* of these Theban knightes two. *conjecturing<br/> +Some saiden thus, some said it shall he so;<br/> +Some helden with him with the blacke beard,<br/> +Some with the bald, some with the thick-hair’d;<br/> +Some said he looked grim, and woulde fight:<br/> +He had a sparth* of twenty pound of weight. *double-headed axe<br/> +Thus was the halle full of divining* *conjecturing<br/> +Long after that the sunne gan up spring.<br/> +The great Theseus that of his sleep is waked<br/> +With minstrelsy, and noise that was maked,<br/> +Held yet the chamber of his palace rich,<br/> +Till that the Theban knightes both y-lich* *alike<br/> +Honoured were, and to the palace fet*. *fetched<br/> +Duke Theseus is at a window set,<br/> +Array’d right as he were a god in throne:<br/> +The people presseth thitherward full soon<br/> +Him for to see, and do him reverence,<br/> +And eke to hearken his hest* and his sentence**. *command **speech<br/> +An herald on a scaffold made an O, <77><br/> +Till the noise of the people was y-do*: *done<br/> +And when he saw the people of noise all still,<br/> +Thus shewed he the mighty Duke’s will.<br/> +“The lord hath of his high discretion<br/> +Considered that it were destruction<br/> +To gentle blood, to fighten in the guise<br/> +Of mortal battle now in this emprise:<br/> +Wherefore to shape* that they shall not die, *arrange, contrive<br/> +He will his firste purpose modify.<br/> +No man therefore, on pain of loss of life,<br/> +No manner* shot, nor poleaxe, nor short knife *kind of<br/> +Into the lists shall send, or thither bring.<br/> +Nor short sword for to stick with point biting<br/> +No man shall draw, nor bear it by his side.<br/> +And no man shall unto his fellow ride<br/> +But one course, with a sharp y-grounden spear:<br/> +*Foin if him list on foot, himself to wear. *He who wishes can<br/> +And he that is at mischief shall be take*, fence on foot to defend<br/> +And not slain, but be brought unto the stake, himself, and he that<br/> +That shall be ordained on either side; is in peril shall be taken*<br/> +Thither he shall by force, and there abide.<br/> +And if *so fall* the chiefetain be take *should happen*<br/> +On either side, or elles slay his make*, *equal, match<br/> +No longer then the tourneying shall last.<br/> +God speede you; go forth and lay on fast.<br/> +With long sword and with mace fight your fill.<br/> +Go now your way; this is the lordes will.<br/> +The voice of the people touched the heaven,<br/> +So loude cried they with merry steven*: *sound<br/> +God save such a lord that is so good,<br/> +He willeth no destruction of blood. +</p> + +<p> +Up go the trumpets and the melody,<br/> +And to the listes rode the company<br/> +*By ordinance*, throughout the city large, *in orderly array*<br/> +Hanged with cloth of gold, and not with sarge*. *serge <78><br/> +Full like a lord this noble Duke gan ride,<br/> +And these two Thebans upon either side: +</p> + +<p> +And after rode the queen and Emily,<br/> +And after them another company<br/> +Of one and other, after their degree.<br/> +And thus they passed thorough that city<br/> +And to the listes came they by time:<br/> +It was not of the day yet fully prime*. *between 6 & 9 a.m.<br/> +When set was Theseus full rich and high,<br/> +Hippolyta the queen and Emily,<br/> +And other ladies in their degrees about,<br/> +Unto the seates presseth all the rout.<br/> +And westward, through the gates under Mart,<br/> +Arcite, and eke the hundred of his part,<br/> +With banner red, is enter’d right anon;<br/> +And in the selve* moment Palamon *self-same<br/> +Is, under Venus, eastward in the place,<br/> +With banner white, and hardy cheer* and face *expression<br/> +In all the world, to seeken up and down<br/> +So even* without variatioun *equal<br/> +There were such companies never tway.<br/> +For there was none so wise that coulde say<br/> +That any had of other avantage<br/> +Of worthiness, nor of estate, nor age,<br/> +So even were they chosen for to guess.<br/> +And *in two ranges faire they them dress*. *they arranged themselves<br/> +When that their names read were every one, in two rows*<br/> +That in their number guile* were there none, *fraud<br/> +Then were the gates shut, and cried was loud;<br/> +“Do now your devoir, younge knights proud<br/> +The heralds left their pricking* up and down *spurring their horses<br/> +Now ring the trumpet loud and clarioun.<br/> +There is no more to say, but east and west<br/> +In go the speares sadly* in the rest; *steadily<br/> +In go the sharpe spurs into the side.<br/> +There see me who can joust, and who can ride.<br/> +There shiver shaftes upon shieldes thick;<br/> +He feeleth through the hearte-spoon<79> the prick.<br/> +Up spring the speares twenty foot on height;<br/> +Out go the swordes as the silver bright.<br/> +The helmes they to-hewen, and to-shred*; *strike in pieces <80><br/> +Out burst the blood, with sterne streames red.<br/> +With mighty maces the bones they to-brest*. *burst<br/> +He <81> through the thickest of the throng gan threst*. *thrust<br/> +There stumble steedes strong, and down go all.<br/> +He rolleth under foot as doth a ball.<br/> +He foineth* on his foe with a trunchoun, *forces himself<br/> +And he him hurtleth with his horse adown.<br/> +He through the body hurt is, and *sith take*, *afterwards captured*<br/> +Maugre his head, and brought unto the stake,<br/> +As forword* was, right there he must abide. *covenant<br/> +Another led is on that other side.<br/> +And sometime doth* them Theseus to rest, *caused<br/> +Them to refresh, and drinken if them lest*. *pleased<br/> +Full oft a day have thilke Thebans two *these<br/> +Together met and wrought each other woe:<br/> +Unhorsed hath each other of them tway* *twice<br/> +There is no tiger in the vale of Galaphay, <82><br/> +When that her whelp is stole, when it is lite* *little<br/> +So cruel on the hunter, as Arcite<br/> +For jealous heart upon this Palamon:<br/> +Nor in Belmarie <83> there is no fell lion,<br/> +That hunted is, or for his hunger wood* *mad<br/> +Or for his prey desireth so the blood,<br/> +As Palamon to slay his foe Arcite.<br/> +The jealous strokes upon their helmets bite;<br/> +Out runneth blood on both their sides red,<br/> +Sometime an end there is of every deed<br/> +For ere the sun unto the reste went,<br/> +The stronge king Emetrius gan hent* *sieze, assail<br/> +This Palamon, as he fought with Arcite,<br/> +And made his sword deep in his flesh to bite,<br/> +And by the force of twenty is he take,<br/> +Unyielding, and is drawn unto the stake.<br/> +And in the rescue of this Palamon<br/> +The stronge king Licurgus is borne down:<br/> +And king Emetrius, for all his strength<br/> +Is borne out of his saddle a sword’s length,<br/> +So hit him Palamon ere he were take:<br/> +But all for nought; he was brought to the stake:<br/> +His hardy hearte might him helpe naught,<br/> +He must abide when that he was caught,<br/> +By force, and eke by composition*. *the bargain<br/> +Who sorroweth now but woful Palamon<br/> +That must no more go again to fight?<br/> +And when that Theseus had seen that sight<br/> +Unto the folk that foughte thus each one,<br/> +He cried, Ho! no more, for it is done!<br/> +I will be true judge, and not party.<br/> +Arcite of Thebes shall have Emily,<br/> +That by his fortune hath her fairly won.”<br/> +Anon there is a noise of people gone,<br/> +For joy of this, so loud and high withal,<br/> +It seemed that the listes shoulde fall. +</p> + +<p> +What can now faire Venus do above?<br/> +What saith she now? what doth this queen of love?<br/> +But weepeth so, for wanting of her will,<br/> +Till that her teares in the listes fill* *fall<br/> +She said: “I am ashamed doubteless.”<br/> +Saturnus saide: “Daughter, hold thy peace.<br/> +Mars hath his will, his knight hath all his boon,<br/> +And by mine head thou shalt be eased soon.”<br/> + The trumpeters with the loud minstrelsy,<br/> +The heralds, that full loude yell and cry,<br/> +Be in their joy for weal of Dan* Arcite. *Lord<br/> +But hearken me, and stinte noise a lite,<br/> +What a miracle there befell anon<br/> +This fierce Arcite hath off his helm y-done,<br/> +And on a courser for to shew his face<br/> +He *pricketh endelong* the large place, *rides from end to end*<br/> +Looking upward upon this Emily;<br/> +And she again him cast a friendly eye<br/> +(For women, as to speaken *in commune*, *generally*<br/> +They follow all the favour of fortune),<br/> +And was all his in cheer*, as his in heart. *countenance<br/> +Out of the ground a fire infernal start,<br/> +From Pluto sent, at request of Saturn<br/> +For which his horse for fear began to turn,<br/> +And leap aside, and founder* as he leap *stumble<br/> +And ere that Arcite may take any keep*, *care<br/> +He pight* him on the pummel** of his head. *pitched **top<br/> +That in the place he lay as he were dead.<br/> +His breast to-bursten with his saddle-bow.<br/> +As black he lay as any coal or crow,<br/> +So was the blood y-run into his face.<br/> +Anon he was y-borne out of the place<br/> +With hearte sore, to Theseus’ palace.<br/> +Then was he carven* out of his harness. *cut<br/> +And in a bed y-brought full fair and blive* *quickly<br/> +For he was yet in mem’ry and alive,<br/> +And always crying after Emily. +</p> + +<p> +Duke Theseus, with all his company,<br/> +Is come home to Athens his city,<br/> +With alle bliss and great solemnity.<br/> +Albeit that this aventure was fall*, *befallen<br/> +He woulde not discomforte* them all *discourage<br/> +Then said eke, that Arcite should not die,<br/> +He should be healed of his malady.<br/> +And of another thing they were as fain*. *glad<br/> +That of them alle was there no one slain,<br/> +All* were they sorely hurt, and namely** one, *although **especially<br/> +That with a spear was thirled* his breast-bone. *pierced<br/> +To other woundes, and to broken arms,<br/> +Some hadden salves, and some hadden charms:<br/> +And pharmacies of herbs, and eke save* *sage, Salvia officinalis<br/> +They dranken, for they would their lives have.<br/> +For which this noble Duke, as he well can,<br/> +Comforteth and honoureth every man,<br/> +And made revel all the longe night,<br/> +Unto the strange lordes, as was right.<br/> +Nor there was holden no discomforting,<br/> +But as at jousts or at a tourneying;<br/> +For soothly there was no discomfiture,<br/> +For falling is not but an aventure*. *chance, accident<br/> +Nor to be led by force unto a stake<br/> +Unyielding, and with twenty knights y-take<br/> +One person all alone, withouten mo’,<br/> +And harried* forth by armes, foot, and toe, *dragged, hurried<br/> +And eke his steede driven forth with staves,<br/> +With footmen, bothe yeomen and eke knaves*, *servants<br/> +It was *aretted him no villainy:* *counted no disgrace to him*<br/> +There may no man *clepen it cowardy*. *call it cowardice*<br/> +For which anon Duke Theseus *let cry*, — *caused to be proclaimed*<br/> +To stenten* alle rancour and envy, — *stop<br/> +The gree* as well on one side as the other, *prize, merit<br/> +And either side alike as other’s brother:<br/> +And gave them giftes after their degree,<br/> +And held a feaste fully dayes three:<br/> +And conveyed the kinges worthily<br/> +Out of his town a journee* largely *day’s journey<br/> +And home went every man the righte way,<br/> +There was no more but “Farewell, Have good day.”<br/> +Of this bataille I will no more indite<br/> +But speak of Palamon and of Arcite. +</p> + +<p> +Swelleth the breast of Arcite and the sore<br/> +Increaseth at his hearte more and more.<br/> +The clotted blood, for any leache-craft* *surgical skill<br/> +Corrupteth and is *in his bouk y-laft* *left in his body*<br/> +That neither *veine blood nor ventousing*, *blood-letting or cupping*<br/> +Nor drink of herbes may be his helping.<br/> +The virtue expulsive or animal,<br/> +From thilke virtue called natural,<br/> +Nor may the venom voide, nor expel<br/> +The pipes of his lungs began to swell<br/> +And every lacert* in his breast adown *sinew, muscle<br/> +Is shent* with venom and corruption. *destroyed<br/> +Him gaineth* neither, for to get his life, *availeth<br/> +Vomit upward, nor downward laxative;<br/> +All is to-bursten thilke region;<br/> +Nature hath now no domination.<br/> +And certainly where nature will not wirch,* *work<br/> +Farewell physic: go bear the man to chirch.* *church<br/> +This all and some is, Arcite must die.<br/> +For which he sendeth after Emily,<br/> +And Palamon, that was his cousin dear,<br/> +Then said he thus, as ye shall after hear. +</p> + +<p> +“Nought may the woful spirit in mine heart<br/> +Declare one point of all my sorrows’ smart<br/> +To you, my lady, that I love the most:<br/> +But I bequeath the service of my ghost<br/> +To you aboven every creature,<br/> +Since that my life ne may no longer dure.<br/> +Alas the woe! alas, the paines strong<br/> +That I for you have suffered and so long!<br/> +Alas the death, alas, mine Emily!<br/> +Alas departing* of our company! *the severance<br/> +Alas, mine hearte’s queen! alas, my wife!<br/> +Mine hearte’s lady, ender of my life!<br/> +What is this world? what aske men to have?<br/> +Now with his love, now in his colde grave<br/> +Al one, withouten any company.<br/> +Farewell, my sweet, farewell, mine Emily,<br/> +And softly take me in your armes tway,<br/> +For love of God, and hearken what I say.<br/> +I have here with my cousin Palamon<br/> +Had strife and rancour many a day agone,<br/> +For love of you, and for my jealousy.<br/> +And Jupiter so *wis my soule gie*, *surely guides my soul*<br/> +To speaken of a servant properly,<br/> +With alle circumstances truely,<br/> +That is to say, truth, honour, and knighthead,<br/> +Wisdom, humbless*, estate, and high kindred, *humility<br/> +Freedom, and all that longeth to that art,<br/> +So Jupiter have of my soul part,<br/> +As in this world right now I know not one,<br/> +So worthy to be lov’d as Palamon,<br/> +That serveth you, and will do all his life.<br/> +And if that you shall ever be a wife,<br/> +Forget not Palamon, the gentle man.” +</p> + +<p> +And with that word his speech to fail began.<br/> +For from his feet up to his breast was come<br/> +The cold of death, that had him overnome*. *overcome<br/> +And yet moreover in his armes two<br/> +The vital strength is lost, and all ago*. *gone<br/> +Only the intellect, withoute more,<br/> +That dwelled in his hearte sick and sore,<br/> +Gan faile, when the hearte felte death;<br/> +Dusked* his eyen two, and fail’d his breath. *grew dim<br/> +But on his lady yet he cast his eye;<br/> +His laste word was; “Mercy, Emily!”<br/> +His spirit changed house, and wente there,<br/> +As I came never I cannot telle where.<84><br/> +Therefore I stent*, I am no divinister**; *refrain **diviner<br/> +Of soules find I nought in this register.<br/> +Ne me list not th’ opinions to tell<br/> +Of them, though that they writen where they dwell;<br/> +Arcite is cold, there Mars his soule gie.* *guide<br/> +Now will I speake forth of Emily. +</p> + +<p> +Shriek’d Emily, and howled Palamon,<br/> +And Theseus his sister took anon<br/> +Swooning, and bare her from the corpse away.<br/> +What helpeth it to tarry forth the day,<br/> +To telle how she wept both eve and morrow?<br/> +For in such cases women have such sorrow,<br/> +When that their husbands be from them y-go*, *gone<br/> +That for the more part they sorrow so,<br/> +Or elles fall into such malady,<br/> +That at the laste certainly they die.<br/> +Infinite be the sorrows and the tears<br/> +Of olde folk, and folk of tender years,<br/> +In all the town, for death of this Theban:<br/> +For him there weepeth bothe child and man.<br/> +So great a weeping was there none certain,<br/> +When Hector was y-brought, all fresh y-slain,<br/> +To Troy: alas! the pity that was there,<br/> +Scratching of cheeks, and rending eke of hair.<br/> +“Why wouldest thou be dead?” these women cry,<br/> +“And haddest gold enough, and Emily.”<br/> +No manner man might gladden Theseus,<br/> +Saving his olde father Egeus,<br/> +That knew this worlde’s transmutatioun,<br/> +As he had seen it changen up and down,<br/> +Joy after woe, and woe after gladness;<br/> +And shewed him example and likeness.<br/> +“Right as there died never man,” quoth he,<br/> +“That he ne liv’d in earth in some degree*, *rank, condition<br/> +Right so there lived never man,” he said,<br/> +“In all this world, that sometime be not died.<br/> +This world is but a throughfare full of woe,<br/> +And we be pilgrims, passing to and fro:<br/> +Death is an end of every worldly sore.”<br/> +And over all this said he yet much more<br/> +To this effect, full wisely to exhort<br/> +The people, that they should them recomfort.<br/> +Duke Theseus, with all his busy cure*, *care<br/> +*Casteth about*, where that the sepulture *deliberates*<br/> +Of good Arcite may best y-maked be,<br/> +And eke most honourable in his degree.<br/> +And at the last he took conclusion,<br/> +That there as first Arcite and Palamon<br/> +Hadde for love the battle them between,<br/> +That in that selve* grove, sweet and green, *self-same<br/> +There as he had his amorous desires,<br/> +His complaint, and for love his hote fires,<br/> +He woulde make a fire*, in which th’ office *funeral pyre<br/> +Of funeral he might all accomplice;<br/> +And *let anon command* to hack and hew *immediately gave orders*<br/> +The oakes old, and lay them *on a rew* *in a row*<br/> +In culpons*, well arrayed for to brenne**. *logs **burn<br/> +His officers with swifte feet they renne* *run<br/> +And ride anon at his commandement.<br/> +And after this, Duke Theseus hath sent<br/> +After a bier, and it all oversprad<br/> +With cloth of gold, the richest that he had;<br/> +And of the same suit he clad Arcite.<br/> +Upon his handes were his gloves white,<br/> +Eke on his head a crown of laurel green,<br/> +And in his hand a sword full bright and keen.<br/> +He laid him *bare the visage* on the bier, *with face uncovered*<br/> +Therewith he wept, that pity was to hear.<br/> +And, for the people shoulde see him all,<br/> +When it was day he brought them to the hall,<br/> +That roareth of the crying and the soun’.<br/> +Then came this woful Theban, Palamon,<br/> +With sluttery beard, and ruggy ashy hairs,<85><br/> +In clothes black, y-dropped all with tears,<br/> +And (passing over weeping Emily)<br/> +The ruefullest of all the company.<br/> +And *inasmuch as* the service should be *in order that*<br/> +The more noble and rich in its degree,<br/> +Duke Theseus let forth three steedes bring,<br/> +That trapped were in steel all glittering.<br/> +And covered with the arms of Dan Arcite.<br/> +Upon these steedes, that were great and white,<br/> +There satte folk, of whom one bare his shield,<br/> +Another his spear in his handes held;<br/> +The thirde bare with him his bow Turkeis*, *Turkish.<br/> +Of brent* gold was the case** and the harness: *burnished **quiver<br/> +And ride forth *a pace* with sorrowful cheer** *at a foot pace*<br/> +Toward the grove, as ye shall after hear. **expression +</p> + +<p> +The noblest of the Greekes that there were<br/> +Upon their shoulders carried the bier,<br/> +With slacke pace, and eyen red and wet,<br/> +Throughout the city, by the master* street, *main <86><br/> +That spread was all with black, and wondrous high<br/> +Right of the same is all the street y-wrie.* *covered <87><br/> +Upon the right hand went old Egeus,<br/> +And on the other side Duke Theseus,<br/> +With vessels in their hand of gold full fine,<br/> +All full of honey, milk, and blood, and wine;<br/> +Eke Palamon, with a great company;<br/> +And after that came woful Emily,<br/> +With fire in hand, as was that time the guise*, *custom<br/> +To do th’ office of funeral service. +</p> + +<p> +High labour, and full great appareling* *preparation<br/> +Was at the service, and the pyre-making,<br/> +That with its greene top the heaven raught*, *reached<br/> +And twenty fathom broad its armes straught*: *stretched<br/> +This is to say, the boughes were so broad.<br/> +Of straw first there was laid many a load.<br/> +But how the pyre was maked up on height,<br/> +And eke the names how the trees hight*, *were called<br/> +As oak, fir, birch, asp*, alder, holm, poplere, *aspen<br/> +Willow, elm, plane, ash, box, chestnut, lind*, laurere, *linden, lime<br/> +Maple, thorn, beech, hazel, yew, whipul tree,<br/> +How they were fell’d, shall not be told for me;<br/> +Nor how the goddes* rannen up and down *the forest deities<br/> +Disinherited of their habitatioun,<br/> +In which they wonned* had in rest and peace, *dwelt<br/> +Nymphes, Faunes, and Hamadryades;<br/> +Nor how the beastes and the birdes all<br/> +Fledden for feare, when the wood gan fall;<br/> +Nor how the ground aghast* was of the light, *terrified<br/> +That was not wont to see the sunne bright;<br/> +Nor how the fire was couched* first with stre**, *laid **straw<br/> +And then with dry stickes cloven in three,<br/> +And then with greene wood and spicery*, *spices<br/> +And then with cloth of gold and with pierrie*, *precious stones<br/> +And garlands hanging with full many a flower,<br/> +The myrrh, the incense with so sweet odour;<br/> +Nor how Arcita lay among all this,<br/> +Nor what richess about his body is;<br/> +Nor how that Emily, as was the guise*, *custom<br/> +*Put in the fire* of funeral service<88>; *appplied the torch*<br/> +Nor how she swooned when she made the fire,<br/> +Nor what she spake, nor what was her desire;<br/> +Nor what jewels men in the fire then cast<br/> +When that the fire was great and burned fast; +</p> + +<p> +Nor how some cast their shield, and some their spear,<br/> +And of their vestiments, which that they wear,<br/> +And cuppes full of wine, and milk, and blood,<br/> +Into the fire, that burnt as it were wood*; *mad<br/> +Nor how the Greekes with a huge rout* *procession<br/> +Three times riden all the fire about <89><br/> +Upon the left hand, with a loud shouting,<br/> +And thries with their speares clattering;<br/> +And thries how the ladies gan to cry;<br/> +Nor how that led was homeward Emily;<br/> +Nor how Arcite is burnt to ashes cold;<br/> +Nor how the lyke-wake* was y-hold *wake <90><br/> +All thilke* night, nor how the Greekes play *that<br/> +The wake-plays*, ne keep** I not to say: *funeral games **care<br/> +Who wrestled best naked, with oil anoint,<br/> +Nor who that bare him best *in no disjoint*. *in any contest*<br/> +I will not tell eke how they all are gone<br/> +Home to Athenes when the play is done;<br/> +But shortly to the point now will I wend*, *come<br/> +And maken of my longe tale an end. +</p> + +<p> +By process and by length of certain years<br/> +All stinted* is the mourning and the tears *ended<br/> +Of Greekes, by one general assent.<br/> +Then seemed me there was a parlement<br/> +At Athens, upon certain points and cas*: *cases<br/> +Amonge the which points y-spoken was<br/> +To have with certain countries alliance,<br/> +And have of Thebans full obeisance.<br/> +For which this noble Theseus anon<br/> +Let* send after the gentle Palamon, *caused<br/> +Unwist* of him what was the cause and why: *unknown<br/> +But in his blacke clothes sorrowfully<br/> +He came at his commandment *on hie*; *in haste*<br/> +Then sente Theseus for Emily.<br/> +When they were set*, and hush’d was all the place *seated<br/> +And Theseus abided* had a space *waited<br/> +Ere any word came from his wise breast<br/> +*His eyen set he there as was his lest*, *he cast his eyes<br/> +And with a sad visage he sighed still, wherever he pleased*<br/> +And after that right thus he said his will.<br/> +“The firste mover of the cause above<br/> +When he first made the faire chain of love,<br/> +Great was th’ effect, and high was his intent;<br/> +Well wist he why, and what thereof he meant:<br/> +For with that faire chain of love he bond* *bound<br/> +The fire, the air, the water, and the lond<br/> +In certain bondes, that they may not flee:<91><br/> +That same prince and mover eke,” quoth he,<br/> +“Hath stablish’d, in this wretched world adown,<br/> +Certain of dayes and duration<br/> +To all that are engender’d in this place,<br/> +Over the whiche day they may not pace*, *pass<br/> +All may they yet their dayes well abridge.<br/> +There needeth no authority to allege<br/> +For it is proved by experience;<br/> +But that me list declare my sentence*. *opinion<br/> +Then may men by this order well discern,<br/> +That thilke* mover stable is and etern. *the same<br/> +Well may men know, but that it be a fool,<br/> +That every part deriveth from its whole.<br/> +For nature hath not ta’en its beginning<br/> +Of no *partie nor cantle* of a thing, *part or piece*<br/> +But of a thing that perfect is and stable,<br/> +Descending so, till it be corruptable.<br/> +And therefore of His wise purveyance* *providence<br/> +He hath so well beset* his ordinance,<br/> +That species of things and progressions<br/> +Shallen endure by successions,<br/> +And not etern, withouten any lie:<br/> +This mayst thou understand and see at eye.<br/> +Lo th’ oak, that hath so long a nourishing<br/> +From the time that it ’ginneth first to spring,<br/> +And hath so long a life, as ye may see,<br/> +Yet at the last y-wasted is the tree.<br/> +Consider eke, how that the harde stone<br/> +Under our feet, on which we tread and gon*, *walk<br/> +Yet wasteth, as it lieth by the way.<br/> +The broade river some time waxeth drey*. *dry<br/> +The greate townes see we wane and wend*. *go, disappear<br/> +Then may ye see that all things have an end.<br/> +Of man and woman see we well also, —<br/> +That needes in one of the termes two, —<br/> +That is to say, in youth or else in age,-<br/> +He must be dead, the king as shall a page;<br/> +Some in his bed, some in the deepe sea,<br/> +Some in the large field, as ye may see:<br/> +There helpeth nought, all go that ilke* way: *same<br/> +Then may I say that alle thing must die.<br/> +What maketh this but Jupiter the king?<br/> +The which is prince, and cause of alle thing,<br/> +Converting all unto his proper will,<br/> +From which it is derived, sooth to tell<br/> +And hereagainst no creature alive,<br/> +Of no degree, availeth for to strive.<br/> +Then is it wisdom, as it thinketh me,<br/> +To make a virtue of necessity,<br/> +And take it well, that we may not eschew*, *escape<br/> +And namely what to us all is due.<br/> +And whoso grudgeth* ought, he doth folly, *murmurs at<br/> +And rebel is to him that all may gie*. *direct, guide<br/> +And certainly a man hath most honour<br/> +To dien in his excellence and flower,<br/> +When he is sicker* of his goode name. *certain<br/> +Then hath he done his friend, nor him*, no shame *himself<br/> +And gladder ought his friend be of his death,<br/> +When with honour is yielded up his breath,<br/> +Than when his name *appalled is for age*; *decayed by old age*<br/> +For all forgotten is his vassalage*. *valour, service<br/> +Then is it best, as for a worthy fame,<br/> +To dien when a man is best of name.<br/> +The contrary of all this is wilfulness.<br/> +Why grudge we, why have we heaviness,<br/> +That good Arcite, of chivalry the flower,<br/> +Departed is, with duty and honour,<br/> +Out of this foule prison of this life?<br/> +Why grudge here his cousin and his wife<br/> +Of his welfare, that loved him so well?<br/> +Can he them thank? nay, God wot, neverdeal*, — *not a jot<br/> +That both his soul and eke themselves offend*, *hurt<br/> +And yet they may their lustes* not amend**. *desires **control<br/> +What may I conclude of this longe serie*, *string of remarks<br/> +But after sorrow I rede* us to be merry, *counsel<br/> +And thanke Jupiter for all his grace?<br/> +And ere that we departe from this place,<br/> +I rede that we make of sorrows two<br/> +One perfect joye lasting evermo’:<br/> +And look now where most sorrow is herein,<br/> +There will I first amenden and begin.<br/> +“Sister,” quoth he, “this is my full assent,<br/> +With all th’ advice here of my parlement,<br/> +That gentle Palamon, your owen knight,<br/> +That serveth you with will, and heart, and might,<br/> +And ever hath, since first time ye him knew,<br/> +That ye shall of your grace upon him rue*, *take pity<br/> +And take him for your husband and your lord:<br/> +Lend me your hand, for this is our accord.<br/> +*Let see* now of your womanly pity. *make display*<br/> +He is a kinge’s brother’s son, pardie*. *by God<br/> +And though he were a poore bachelere,<br/> +Since he hath served you so many a year,<br/> +And had for you so great adversity,<br/> +It muste be considered, *’lieveth me*. *believe me*<br/> +For gentle mercy *oweth to passen right*.” *ought to be rightly<br/> +Then said he thus to Palamon the knight; directed*<br/> +“I trow there needeth little sermoning<br/> +To make you assente to this thing.<br/> +Come near, and take your lady by the hand.”<br/> +Betwixte them was made anon the band,<br/> +That hight matrimony or marriage,<br/> +By all the counsel of the baronage.<br/> +And thus with alle bliss and melody<br/> +Hath Palamon y-wedded Emily.<br/> +And God, that all this wide world hath wrought,<br/> +Send him his love, that hath it dearly bought.<br/> +For now is Palamon in all his weal,<br/> +Living in bliss, in riches, and in heal*. *health<br/> +And Emily him loves so tenderly,<br/> +And he her serveth all so gentilly,<br/> +That never was there worde them between<br/> +Of jealousy, nor of none other teen*. *cause of anger<br/> +Thus endeth Palamon and Emily<br/> +And God save all this faire company. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to The Knight’s Tale. +</p> + +<p> +1. For the plan and principal incidents of the “Knight’s Tale,” +Chaucer was indebted to Boccaccio, who had himself borrowed +from some prior poet, chronicler, or romancer. Boccaccio +speaks of the story as “very ancient;” and, though that may not +be proof of its antiquity, it certainly shows that he took it from +an earlier writer. The “Tale” is more or less a paraphrase of +Boccaccio’s “Theseida;” but in some points the copy has a +distinct dramatic superiority over the original. The “Theseida” +contained ten thousand lines; Chaucer has condensed it into less +than one-fourth of the number. The “Knight’s Tale” is supposed +to have been at first composed as a separate work; it is +undetermined whether Chaucer took it direct from the Italian of +Boccaccio, or from a French translation. +</p> + +<p> +2. Highte: was called; from the Anglo-Saxon “hatan”, to bid or +call; German, “Heissen”, “heisst”. +</p> + +<p> +3. Feminie: The “Royaume des Femmes” — kingdom of the +Amazons. Gower, in the “Confessio Amantis,” styles +Penthesilea the “Queen of Feminie.” +</p> + +<p> +4. Wonnen: Won, conquered; German “gewonnen.” +</p> + +<p> +5. Ear: To plough; Latin, “arare.” “I have abundant matter for +discourse.” The first, and half of the second, of Boccaccio’s +twelve books are disposed of in the few lines foregoing. +</p> + +<p> +6. Waimenting: bewailing; German, “wehklagen” +</p> + +<p> +7. Starf: died; German, “sterben,” “starb”. +</p> + +<p> +8. The Minotaur: The monster, half-man and half-bull, which +yearly devoured a tribute of fourteen Athenian youths and +maidens, until it was slain by Theseus. +</p> + +<p> +9. Pillers: pillagers, strippers; French, “pilleurs.” +</p> + +<p> +10. The donjon was originally the central tower or “keep” of +feudal castles; it was employed to detain prisoners of +importance. Hence the modern meaning of the word dungeon. +</p> + +<p> +11. Saturn, in the old astrology, was a most unpropitious star to +be born under. +</p> + +<p> +12. To die in the pain was a proverbial expression in the French, +used as an alternative to enforce a resolution or a promise. +Edward III., according to Froissart, declared that he would +either succeed in the war against France or die in the pain — +“Ou il mourroit en la peine.” It was the fashion in those times to +swear oaths of friendship and brotherhood; and hence, though +the fashion has long died out, we still speak of “sworn friends.” +</p> + +<p> +13. The saying of the old scholar Boethius, in his treatise “De +Consolatione Philosophiae”, which Chaucer translated, and +from which he has freely borrowed in his poetry. The words are +“Quis legem det amantibus? +Major lex amor est sibi.” +(“Who can give law to lovers? Love is a law unto himself, and +greater”) +</p> + +<p> +14. “Perithous” and “Theseus” must, for the metre, be +pronounced as words of four and three syllables respectively — +the vowels at the end not being diphthongated, but enunciated +separately, as if the words were printed Pe-ri-tho-us, The-se-us. +The same rule applies in such words as “creature” and +“conscience,” which are trisyllables. +</p> + +<p> +15. Stound: moment, short space of time; from Anglo-Saxon, +“stund;” akin to which is German, “Stunde,” an hour. +</p> + +<p> +16. Meinie: servants, or menials, &c., dwelling together in a +house; from an Anglo-Saxon word meaning a crowd. Compare +German, “Menge,” multitude. +</p> + +<p> +17. The pure fetters: the very fetters. The Greeks used +“katharos”, the Romans “purus,” in the same sense. +</p> + +<p> +18. In the medieval courts of Love, to which allusion is +probably made forty lines before, in the word “parlement,” or +“parliament,” questions like that here proposed were seriously +discussed. +</p> + +<p> +19. Gear: behaviour, fashion, dress; but, by another reading, the +word is “gyre,” and means fit, trance — from the Latin, “gyro,” I +turn round. +</p> + +<p> +20. Before his head in his cell fantastic: in front of his head in +his cell of fantasy. “The division of the brain into cells, +according to the different sensitive faculties,” says Mr Wright, +“is very ancient, and is found depicted in mediaeval +manuscripts.” In a manuscript in the Harleian Library, it is +stated, “Certum est in prora cerebri esse fantasiam, in medio +rationem discretionis, in puppi memoriam” (it is certain that in +the front of the brain is imagination, in the middle reason, in the +back memory) — a classification not materially differing from +that of modern phrenologists. +</p> + +<p> +21. Dan: Lord; Latin, “Dominus;” Spanish, “Don.” +</p> + +<p> +22. The “caduceus.” +</p> + +<p> +23. Argus was employed by Juno to watch Io with his hundred +eyes but he was sent to sleep by the flute of Mercury, who then +cut off his head. +</p> + +<p> +24. Next: nearest; German, “naechste”. +</p> + +<p> +25. Clary: hippocras, wine made with spices. +</p> + +<p> +26. Warray: make war; French “guerroyer”, to molest; hence, +perhaps, “to worry.” +</p> + +<p> +27. All day meeten men at unset steven: every day men meet at +unexpected time. “To set a steven,” is to fix a time, make an +appointment. +</p> + +<p> +28. Roundelay: song coming round again to the words with +which it opened. +</p> + +<p> +29. Now in the crop and now down in the breres: Now in the +tree-top, now down in the briars. “Crop and root,” top and +bottom, is used to express the perfection or totality of anything. +</p> + +<p> +30. Beknow: avow, acknowledge: German, “bekennen.” +</p> + +<p> +31. Shapen was my death erst than my shert: My death was +decreed before my shirt ws shaped — that is, before any clothes +were made for me, before my birth. +</p> + +<p> +32. Regne: Queen; French, “Reine;” Venus is meant. The +common reading, however, is “regne,” reign or power. +</p> + +<p> +33. Launde: plain. Compare modern English, “lawn,” and +French, “Landes” — flat, bare marshy tracts in the south of +France. +</p> + +<p> +34. Mister: manner, kind; German “muster,” sample, model. +</p> + +<p> +35. In listes: in the lists, prepared for such single combats +between champion and accuser, &c. +</p> + +<p> +36. Thilke: that, contracted from “the ilke,” the same. +</p> + +<p> +37. Mars the Red: referring to the ruddy colour of the planet, to +which was doubtless due the transference to it of the name of +the God of War. In his “Republic,” enumerating the seven +planets, Cicero speaks of the propitious and beneficent light of +Jupiter: “Tum (fulgor) rutilis horribilisque terris, quem Martium +dicitis” — “Then the red glow, horrible to the nations, which +you say to be that of Mars.” Boccaccio opens the “Theseida” by +an invocation to “rubicondo Marte.” +</p> + +<p> +38. Last: lace, leash, noose, snare: from Latin, “laceus.” +</p> + +<p> +39. “Round was the shape, in manner of compass, +Full of degrees, the height of sixty pas” +The building was a circle of steps or benches, as in the ancient +amphitheatre. Either the building was sixty paces high; or, more +probably, there were sixty of the steps or benches. +</p> + +<p> +40. Yellow goldes: The sunflower, turnsol, or girasol, which +turns with and seems to watch the sun, as a jealous lover his +mistress. +</p> + +<p> +41. Citheron: The Isle of Venus, Cythera, in the Aegean Sea; +now called Cerigo: not, as Chaucer’s form of the word might +imply, Mount Cithaeron, in the south-west of Boetia, which was +appropriated to other deities than Venus — to Jupiter, to +Bacchus, and the Muses. +</p> + +<p> +42. It need not be said that Chaucer pays slight heed to +chronology in this passage, where the deeds of Turnus, the +glory of King Solomon, and the fate of Croesus are made +memories of the far past in the time of fabulous Theseus, the +Minotaur-slayer. +</p> + +<p> +43. Champartie: divided power or possession; an old law-term, +signifying the maintenance of a person in a law suit on the +condition of receiving part of the property in dispute, if +recovered. +</p> + +<p> +44. Citole: a kind of dulcimer. +</p> + +<p> +45. The picke-purse: The plunderers that followed armies, and +gave to war a horror all their own. +</p> + +<p> +46. Shepen: stable; Anglo-Saxon, “scypen;” the word +“sheppon” still survives in provincial parlance. +</p> + +<p> +47. This line, perhaps, refers to the deed of Jael. +</p> + +<p> +48. The shippes hoppesteres: The meaning is dubious. We may +understand “the dancing ships,” “the ships that hop” on the +waves; “steres” being taken as the feminine adjectival +termination: or we may, perhaps, read, with one of the +manuscripts, “the ships upon the steres” — that is, even as they +are being steered, or on the open sea — a more picturesque +notion. +</p> + +<p> +49. Freting: devouring; the Germans use “Fressen” to mean +eating by animals, “essen” by men. +</p> + +<p> +50. Julius: i.e. Julius Caesar +</p> + +<p> +51. Puella and Rubeus were two figures in geomancy, +representing two constellations-the one signifying Mars +retrograde, the other Mars direct. +</p> + +<p> +52. Calistope: or Callisto, daughter of Lycaon, seduced by +Jupiter, turned into a bear by Diana, and placed afterwards, with +her son, as the Great Bear among the stars. +</p> + +<p> +53. Dane: Daphne, daughter of the river-god Peneus, in +Thessaly; she was beloved by Apollo, but to avoid his pursuit, +she was, at her own prayer, changed into a laurel-tree. +</p> + +<p> +54. As the goddess of Light, or the goddess who brings to light, +Diana — as well as Juno — was invoked by women in childbirth: +so Horace, Odes iii. 22, says:— +</p> + +<p> +“Montium custos nemorumque, Virgo,<br/> +Quae laborantes utero puellas<br/> +Ter vocata audis adimisque leto,<br/> +Diva triformis.” +</p> + +<p> +(“Virgin custodian of hills and groves, three-formed goddess +who hears and saves from death young women who call upon +her thrice when in childbirth”) +</p> + +<p> +55. Every deal: in every part; “deal” corresponds to the +German “Theil” a portion. +</p> + +<p> +56. Sikerly: surely; German, “sicher;” Scotch, “sikkar,” certain. +When Robert Bruce had escaped from England to assume the +Scottish crown, he stabbed Comyn before the altar at Dumfries; +and, emerging from the church, was asked by his friend +Kirkpatrick if he had slain the traitor. “I doubt it,” said Bruce. +“Doubt,” cried Kirkpatrick. “I’ll mak sikkar;” and he rushed +into the church, and despatched Comyn with repeated thrusts of +his dagger. +</p> + +<p> +57. Kemped: combed; the word survives in “unkempt.” +</p> + +<p> +58. Alauns: greyhounds, mastiffs; from the Spanish word +“Alano,” signifying a mastiff. +</p> + +<p> +59. Y-ment: mixed; German, “mengen,” to mix. +</p> + +<p> +60. Prime: The time of early prayers, between six and nine in +the morning. +</p> + +<p> +61. On the dais: see note 32 to the Prologue. +</p> + +<p> +62. In her hour: in the hour of the day (two hours before +daybreak) which after the astrological system that divided the +twenty-four among the seven ruling planets, was under the +influence of Venus. +</p> + +<p> +63. Adon: Adonis, a beautiful youth beloved of Venus, whose +death by the tusk of a boar she deeply mourned. +</p> + +<p> +64. The third hour unequal: In the third planetary hour; +Palamon had gone forth in the hour of Venus, two hours before +daybreak; the hour of Mercury intervened; the third hour was +that of Luna, or Diana. “Unequal” refers to the astrological +division of day and night, whatever their duration, into twelve +parts, which of necessity varied in length with the season. +</p> + +<p> +65. Smoking: draping; hence the word “smock;” “smokless,” in +Chaucer, means naked. +</p> + +<p> +66. Cerrial: of the species of oak which Pliny, in his “Natural +History,” calls “cerrus.” +</p> + +<p> +67. Stace of Thebes: Statius, the Roman who embodied in the +twelve books of his “Thebaid” the ancient legends connected +with the war of the seven against Thebes. +</p> + +<p> +68. Diana was Luna in heaven, Diana on earth, and Hecate in +hell; hence the direction of the eyes of her statue to “Pluto’s +dark region.” Her statue was set up where three ways met, so +that with a different face she looked down each of the three; +from which she was called Trivia. See the quotation from +Horace, note 54. +</p> + +<p> +69. Las: net; the invisible toils in which Hephaestus caught Ares +and the faithless Aphrodite, and exposed them to the +“inextinguishable laughter” of Olympus. +</p> + +<p> +70. Saturnus the cold: Here, as in “Mars the Red” we have the +person of the deity endowed with the supposed quality of the +planet called after his name. +</p> + +<p> +71. The astrologers ascribed great power to Saturn, and +predicted “much debate” under his ascendancy; hence it was +“against his kind” to compose the heavenly strife. +</p> + +<p> +72. Ayel: grandfather; French “Aieul”. +</p> + +<p> +73. Testers: Helmets; from the French “teste”, “tete”, head. +</p> + +<p> +74. Parements: ornamental garb, French “parer” to deck. +</p> + +<p> +75. Gniding: Rubbing, polishing; Anglo-Saxon “gnidan”, to rub. +</p> + +<p> +76. Nakeres: Drums, used in the cavalry; Boccaccio’s word is +“nachere”. +</p> + +<p> +77. Made an O: Ho! Ho! to command attention; like “oyez”, the +call for silence in law-courts or before proclamations. +</p> + +<p> +78. Sarge: serge, a coarse woollen cloth +</p> + +<p> +79. Heart-spoon: The concave part of the breast, where the +lower ribs join the cartilago ensiformis. +</p> + +<p> +80. To-hewen and to-shred: “to” before a verb implies +extraordinary violence in the action denoted. +</p> + +<p> +81. He through the thickest of the throng etc.. “He” in this +passage refers impersonally to any of the combatants. +</p> + +<p> +82. Galaphay: Galapha, in Mauritania. +</p> + +<p> +83. Belmarie is supposed to have been a Moorish state in +Africa; but “Palmyrie” has been suggested as the correct +reading. +</p> + +<p> +84. As I came never I cannot telle where: Where it went I +cannot tell you, as I was not there. Tyrwhitt thinks that +Chaucer is sneering at Boccacio’s pompous account of the +passage of Arcite’s soul to heaven. Up to this point, the +description of the death-scene is taken literally from the +“Theseida.” +</p> + +<p> +85. With sluttery beard, and ruggy ashy hairs: With neglected +beard, and rough hair strewn with ashes. “Flotery” is the general +reading; but “sluttery” seems to be more in keeping with the +picture of abandonment to grief. +</p> + +<p> +86. Master street: main street; so Froissart speaks of “le +souverain carrefour.” +</p> + +<p> +87. Y-wrie: covered, hid; Anglo-Saxon, “wrigan,” to veil. +</p> + +<p> +88. Emily applied the funeral torch. The “guise” was, among the +ancients, for the nearest relative of the deceased to do this, with +averted face. +</p> + +<p> +89. It was the custom for soldiers to march thrice around the +funeral pile of an emperor or general; “on the left hand” is +added, in reference to the belief that the left hand was +propitious — the Roman augur turning his face southward, and +so placing on his left hand the east, whence good omens came. +With the Greeks, however, their augurs facing the north, it was +just the contrary. The confusion, frequent in classical writers, is +complicated here by the fact that Chaucer’s description of the +funeral of Arcite is taken from Statius’ “Thebaid” — from a +Roman’s account of a Greek solemnity. +</p> + +<p> +90. Lyke-wake: watching by the remains of the dead; from +Anglo-Saxon, “lice,” a corpse; German, “Leichnam.” +</p> + +<p> +91. Chaucer here borrows from Boethius, who says: +“Hanc rerum seriem ligat, +Terras ac pelagus regens, +Et coelo imperitans, amor.” +(Love ties these things together: the earth, and the ruling sea, +and the imperial heavens) +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap06"></a>THE MILLER’S TALE.</h2> + +<h3>THE PROLOGUE.</h3> + +<p> +When that the Knight had thus his tale told<br/> +In all the rout was neither young nor old,<br/> +That he not said it was a noble story,<br/> +And worthy to be *drawen to memory*; *recorded*<br/> +And *namely the gentles* every one. *especially the gentlefolk*<br/> +Our Host then laugh’d and swore, “So may I gon,* *prosper<br/> +This goes aright; *unbuckled is the mail;* *the budget is opened*<br/> +Let see now who shall tell another tale:<br/> +For truely this game is well begun.<br/> +Now telleth ye, Sir Monk, if that ye conne*, *know<br/> +Somewhat, to quiten* with the Knighte’s tale.” *match<br/> +The Miller that fordrunken was all pale,<br/> +So that unnethes* upon his horse he sat, *with difficulty<br/> +He would avalen* neither hood nor hat, *uncover<br/> +Nor abide* no man for his courtesy, *give way to<br/> +But in Pilate’s voice<1> he gan to cry,<br/> +And swore by armes, and by blood, and bones,<br/> +“I can a noble tale for the nones* *occasion,<br/> +With which I will now quite* the Knighte’s tale.” *match<br/> +Our Host saw well how drunk he was of ale,<br/> +And said; “Robin, abide, my leve* brother, *dear<br/> +Some better man shall tell us first another:<br/> +Abide, and let us worke thriftily.”<br/> +By Godde’s soul,” quoth he, “that will not I,<br/> +For I will speak, or elles go my way!”<br/> +Our Host answer’d; “*Tell on a devil way*; *devil take you!*<br/> +Thou art a fool; thy wit is overcome.”<br/> +“Now hearken,” quoth the Miller, “all and some:<br/> +But first I make a protestatioun.<br/> +That I am drunk, I know it by my soun’:<br/> +And therefore if that I misspeak or say,<br/> +*Wite it* the ale of Southwark, I you pray: *blame it on*<2><br/> +For I will tell a legend and a life<br/> +Both of a carpenter and of his wife,<br/> +How that a clerk hath *set the wrighte’s cap*.” *fooled the carpenter*<br/> +The Reeve answer’d and saide, “*Stint thy clap*, *hold your tongue*<br/> +Let be thy lewed drunken harlotry.<br/> +It is a sin, and eke a great folly<br/> +To apeiren* any man, or him defame, *injure<br/> +And eke to bringe wives in evil name.<br/> +Thou may’st enough of other thinges sayn.”<br/> +This drunken Miller spake full soon again,<br/> +And saide, “Leve brother Osewold,<br/> +Who hath no wife, he is no cuckold.<br/> +But I say not therefore that thou art one;<br/> +There be full goode wives many one.<br/> +Why art thou angry with my tale now?<br/> +I have a wife, pardie, as well as thou,<br/> +Yet *n’old I*, for the oxen in my plough, *I would not*<br/> +Taken upon me more than enough,<br/> +To deemen* of myself that I am one; *judge<br/> +I will believe well that I am none.<br/> +An husband should not be inquisitive<br/> +Of Godde’s privity, nor of his wife.<br/> +So he may finde Godde’s foison* there, *treasure<br/> +Of the remnant needeth not to enquere.” +</p> + +<p> +What should I more say, but that this Millere<br/> +He would his wordes for no man forbear,<br/> +But told his churlish* tale in his mannere; *boorish, rude<br/> +Me thinketh, that I shall rehearse it here.<br/> +And therefore every gentle wight I pray,<br/> +For Godde’s love to deem not that I say<br/> +Of evil intent, but that I must rehearse<br/> +Their tales all, be they better or worse,<br/> +Or elles falsen* some of my mattere. *falsify<br/> +And therefore whoso list it not to hear,<br/> +Turn o’er the leaf, and choose another tale;<br/> +For he shall find enough, both great and smale,<br/> +Of storial* thing that toucheth gentiless, *historical, true<br/> +And eke morality and holiness.<br/> +Blame not me, if that ye choose amiss.<br/> +The Miller is a churl, ye know well this,<br/> +So was the Reeve, with many other mo’,<br/> +And harlotry* they tolde bothe two. *ribald tales<br/> +*Avise you* now, and put me out of blame; *be warned*<br/> +And eke men should not make earnest of game*. *jest, fun +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Prologue to the Miller’s Tale +</p> + +<p> +1. Pilate, an unpopular personage in the mystery-plays of the +middle ages, was probably represented as having a gruff, harsh +voice. +</p> + +<p> +2. Wite: blame; in Scotland, “to bear the wyte,” is to bear the +blame. +</p> + +<h3>THE TALE.</h3> + +<p> +Whilom there was dwelling in Oxenford<br/> +A riche gnof*, that *guestes held to board*, *miser *took in boarders*<br/> +And of his craft he was a carpenter.<br/> +With him there was dwelling a poor scholer,<br/> +Had learned art, but all his fantasy<br/> +Was turned for to learn astrology.<br/> +He coude* a certain of conclusions *knew<br/> +To deeme* by interrogations, *determine<br/> +If that men asked him in certain hours,<br/> +When that men should have drought or elles show’rs:<br/> +Or if men asked him what shoulde fall<br/> +Of everything, I may not reckon all. +</p> + +<p> +This clerk was called Hendy* Nicholas; *gentle, handsome<br/> +Of derne* love he knew and of solace; *secret, earnest<br/> +And therewith he was sly and full privy,<br/> +And like a maiden meek for to see.<br/> +A chamber had he in that hostelry<br/> +Alone, withouten any company,<br/> +Full *fetisly y-dight* with herbes swoot*, *neatly decorated*<br/> +And he himself was sweet as is the root *sweet<br/> +Of liquorice, or any setewall*. *valerian<br/> +His Almagest,<1> and bookes great and small,<br/> +His astrolabe,<2> belonging to his art,<br/> +His augrim stones,<3> layed fair apart<br/> +On shelves couched* at his bedde’s head, *laid, set<br/> +His press y-cover’d with a falding* red. *coarse cloth<br/> +And all above there lay a gay psalt’ry<br/> +On which he made at nightes melody,<br/> +So sweetely, that all the chamber rang:<br/> +And Angelus ad virginem<4> he sang.<br/> +And after that he sung the kinge’s note;<br/> +Full often blessed was his merry throat.<br/> +And thus this sweete clerk his time spent<br/> +After *his friendes finding and his rent.* *Attending to his friends,<br/> + and providing for the<br/> + cost of his lodging*<br/> +This carpenter had wedded new a wife,<br/> +Which that he loved more than his life:<br/> +Of eighteen year, I guess, she was of age.<br/> +Jealous he was, and held her narr’w in cage,<br/> +For she was wild and young, and he was old,<br/> +And deemed himself belike* a cuckold. *perhaps<br/> +He knew not Cato,<5> for his wit was rude,<br/> +That bade a man wed his similitude.<br/> +Men shoulde wedden after their estate,<br/> +For youth and eld* are often at debate. *age<br/> +But since that he was fallen in the snare,<br/> +He must endure (as other folk) his care.<br/> +Fair was this younge wife, and therewithal<br/> +As any weasel her body gent* and small. *slim, neat<br/> +A seint* she weared, barred all of silk, *girdle<br/> +A barm-cloth* eke as white as morning milk *apron<6><br/> +Upon her lendes*, full of many a gore**. *loins **plait<br/> +White was her smock*, and broider’d all before, *robe or gown<br/> +And eke behind, on her collar about<br/> +Of coal-black silk, within and eke without.<br/> +The tapes of her white volupere* *head-kerchief <7><br/> +Were of the same suit of her collere;<br/> +Her fillet broad of silk, and set full high:<br/> +And sickerly* she had a likerous** eye. *certainly **lascivious<br/> +Full small y-pulled were her browes two,<br/> +And they were bent*, and black as any sloe. *arched<br/> +She was well more *blissful on to see* *pleasant to look upon*<br/> +Than is the newe perjenete* tree; *young pear-tree<br/> +And softer than the wool is of a wether.<br/> +And by her girdle hung a purse of leather,<br/> +Tassel’d with silk, and *pearled with latoun*. *set with brass pearls*<br/> +In all this world to seeken up and down<br/> +There is no man so wise, that coude thenche* *fancy, think of<br/> +So gay a popelot*, or such a wench. *puppet <8><br/> +Full brighter was the shining of her hue,<br/> +Than in the Tower the noble* forged new. *a gold coin <9><br/> +But of her song, it was as loud and yern*, *lively <10><br/> +As any swallow chittering on a bern*. *barn<br/> +Thereto* she coulde skip, and *make a game* *also *romp*<br/> +As any kid or calf following his dame.<br/> +Her mouth was sweet as braket,<11> or as methe* *mead<br/> +Or hoard of apples, laid in hay or heath.<br/> +Wincing* she was as is a jolly colt, *skittish<br/> +Long as a mast, and upright as a bolt.<br/> +A brooch she bare upon her low collere,<br/> +As broad as is the boss of a bucklere.<br/> +Her shoon were laced on her legges high;<br/> +She was a primerole,* a piggesnie <12>, *primrose<br/> +For any lord t’ have ligging* in his bed, *lying<br/> +Or yet for any good yeoman to wed. +</p> + +<p> +Now, sir, and eft* sir, so befell the case, *again<br/> +That on a day this Hendy Nicholas<br/> +Fell with this younge wife to rage* and play, *toy, play the rogue<br/> +While that her husband was at Oseney,<13><br/> +As clerkes be full subtle and full quaint.<br/> +And privily he caught her by the queint,* *cunt<br/> +And said; “Y-wis,* but if I have my will, *assuredly<br/> +For *derne love of thee, leman, I spill.”* *for earnest love of thee<br/> +And helde her fast by the haunche bones, my mistress, I perish*<br/> +And saide “Leman, love me well at once,<br/> +Or I will dien, all so God me save.”<br/> +And she sprang as a colt doth in the trave<14>:<br/> +And with her head she writhed fast away,<br/> +And said; “I will not kiss thee, by my fay*. *faith<br/> +Why let be,” quoth she, “let be, Nicholas,<br/> +Or I will cry out harow and alas!<15><br/> +Do away your handes, for your courtesy.”<br/> +This Nicholas gan mercy for to cry,<br/> +And spake so fair, and proffer’d him so fast,<br/> +That she her love him granted at the last,<br/> +And swore her oath by Saint Thomas of Kent,<br/> +That she would be at his commandement,<br/> +When that she may her leisure well espy.<br/> +“My husband is so full of jealousy,<br/> +That but* ye waite well, and be privy, *unless<br/> +I wot right well I am but dead,” quoth she.<br/> +“Ye muste be full derne* as in this case.” *secret<br/> +“Nay, thereof care thee nought,” quoth Nicholas:<br/> +“A clerk had *litherly beset his while*, *ill spent his time*<br/> +*But if* he could a carpenter beguile.” *unless<br/> +And thus they were accorded and y-sworn<br/> +To wait a time, as I have said beforn.<br/> +When Nicholas had done thus every deal*, *whit<br/> +And thwacked her about the lendes* well, *loins<br/> +He kiss’d her sweet, and taketh his psalt’ry<br/> +And playeth fast, and maketh melody.<br/> +Then fell it thus, that to the parish church,<br/> +Of Christe’s owen workes for to wirch*, *work<br/> +This good wife went upon a holy day;<br/> +Her forehead shone as bright as any day,<br/> +So was it washen, when she left her werk. +</p> + +<p> +Now was there of that church a parish clerk,<br/> +The which that was y-cleped Absolon.<br/> +Curl’d was his hair, and as the gold it shone,<br/> +And strutted* as a fanne large and broad; *stretched<br/> +Full straight and even lay his jolly shode*. *head of hair<br/> +His rode* was red, his eyen grey as goose, *complexion<br/> +With Paule’s windows carven on his shoes <16><br/> +In hosen red he went full fetisly*. *daintily, neatly<br/> +Y-clad he was full small and properly,<br/> +All in a kirtle* of a light waget*; *girdle **sky blue<br/> +Full fair and thicke be the pointes set,<br/> +And thereupon he had a gay surplice,<br/> +As white as is the blossom on the rise*. *twig <17><br/> +A merry child he was, so God me save;<br/> +Well could he letten blood, and clip, and shave,<br/> +And make a charter of land, and a quittance.<br/> +In twenty manners could he trip and dance,<br/> +After the school of Oxenforde tho*,<18> *then<br/> +And with his legges caste to and fro;<br/> +And playen songes on a small ribible*; *fiddle<br/> +Thereto he sung sometimes a loud quinible* *treble<br/> +And as well could he play on a gitern.* *guitar<br/> +In all the town was brewhouse nor tavern,<br/> +That he not visited with his solas*, *mirth, sport<br/> +There as that any *garnard tapstere* was. *licentious barmaid*<br/> +But sooth to say he was somedeal squaimous* *squeamish<br/> +Of farting, and of speeche dangerous.<br/> +This Absolon, that jolly was and gay,<br/> +Went with a censer on the holy day,<br/> +Censing* the wives of the parish fast; *burning incense for<br/> +And many a lovely look he on them cast,<br/> +And namely* on this carpenter’s wife: *especially<br/> +To look on her him thought a merry life.<br/> +She was so proper, and sweet, and likerous.<br/> +I dare well say, if she had been a mouse,<br/> +And he a cat, he would *her hent anon*. *have soon caught her*<br/> +This parish clerk, this jolly Absolon,<br/> +Hath in his hearte such a love-longing!<br/> +That of no wife took he none offering;<br/> +For courtesy he said he woulde none.<br/> +The moon at night full clear and brighte shone,<br/> +And Absolon his gitern hath y-taken,<br/> +For paramours he thoughte for to waken,<br/> +And forth he went, jolif* and amorous, *joyous<br/> +Till he came to the carpentere’s house,<br/> +A little after the cock had y-crow,<br/> +And *dressed him* under a shot window <19>, *stationed himself.*<br/> +That was upon the carpentere’s wall.<br/> +He singeth in his voice gentle and small;<br/> +“Now, dear lady, if thy will be,<br/> +I pray that ye will rue* on me;” *take pity<br/> +Full well accordant to his giterning.<br/> +This carpenter awoke, and heard him sing,<br/> +And spake unto his wife, and said anon,<br/> +What Alison, hear’st thou not Absolon,<br/> +That chanteth thus under our bower* wall?” *chamber<br/> +And she answer’d her husband therewithal;<br/> +“Yes, God wot, John, I hear him every deal.”<br/> +This passeth forth; what will ye bet* than well? *better +</p> + +<p> +From day to day this jolly Absolon<br/> +So wooeth her, that him is woebegone.<br/> +He waketh all the night, and all the day,<br/> +To comb his lockes broad, and make him gay.<br/> +He wooeth her *by means and by brocage*, *by presents and by agents*<br/> +And swore he woulde be her owen page.<br/> +He singeth brokking* as a nightingale. *quavering<br/> +He sent her piment <20>, mead, and spiced ale,<br/> +And wafers* piping hot out of the glede**: *cakes **coals<br/> +And, for she was of town, he proffer’d meed.<21><br/> +For some folk will be wonnen for richess,<br/> +And some for strokes, and some with gentiless.<br/> +Sometimes, to show his lightness and mast’ry,<br/> +He playeth Herod <22> on a scaffold high.<br/> +But what availeth him as in this case?<br/> +So loveth she the Hendy Nicholas,<br/> +That Absolon may *blow the bucke’s horn*: *“go whistle”*<br/> +He had for all his labour but a scorn.<br/> +And thus she maketh Absolon her ape,<br/> +And all his earnest turneth to a jape*. *jest<br/> +Full sooth is this proverb, it is no lie;<br/> +Men say right thus alway; the nighe sly<br/> +Maketh oft time the far lief to be loth. <23><br/> +For though that Absolon be wood* or wroth *mad<br/> +Because that he far was from her sight,<br/> +This nigh Nicholas stood still in his light.<br/> +Now bear thee well, thou Hendy Nicholas,<br/> +For Absolon may wail and sing “Alas!” +</p> + +<p> +And so befell, that on a Saturday<br/> +This carpenter was gone to Oseney,<br/> +And Hendy Nicholas and Alison<br/> +Accorded were to this conclusion,<br/> +That Nicholas shall *shape him a wile* *devise a stratagem*<br/> +The silly jealous husband to beguile;<br/> +And if so were the game went aright,<br/> +She shoulde sleepen in his arms all night;<br/> +For this was her desire and his also.<br/> +And right anon, withoute wordes mo’,<br/> +This Nicholas no longer would he tarry,<br/> +But doth full soft unto his chamber carry<br/> +Both meat and drinke for a day or tway.<br/> +And to her husband bade her for to say,<br/> +If that he asked after Nicholas,<br/> +She shoulde say, “She wist* not where he was; *knew<br/> +Of all the day she saw him not with eye;<br/> +She trowed* he was in some malady, *believed<br/> +For no cry that her maiden could him call<br/> +He would answer, for nought that might befall.”<br/> +Thus passed forth all thilke* Saturday, *that<br/> +That Nicholas still in his chamber lay,<br/> +And ate, and slept, and didde what him list<br/> +Till Sunday, that* the sunne went to rest. *when<br/> +This silly carpenter *had great marvaill* *wondered greatly*<br/> +Of Nicholas, or what thing might him ail,<br/> +And said; “I am adrad*, by Saint Thomas! *afraid, in dread<br/> +It standeth not aright with Nicholas:<br/> +*God shielde* that he died suddenly. *heaven forbid!*<br/> +This world is now full fickle sickerly*. *certainly<br/> +I saw to-day a corpse y-borne to chirch,<br/> +That now on Monday last I saw him wirch*. *work<br/> +“Go up,” quod he unto his knave*, “anon; *servant.<br/> +Clepe* at his door, or knocke with a stone: *call<br/> +Look how it is, and tell me boldely.”<br/> +This knave went him up full sturdily,<br/> +And, at the chamber door while that he stood,<br/> +He cried and knocked as that he were wood:* *mad<br/> +“What how? what do ye, Master Nicholay?<br/> +How may ye sleepen all the longe day?”<br/> +But all for nought, he hearde not a word.<br/> +An hole he found full low upon the board,<br/> +Where as the cat was wont in for to creep,<br/> +And at that hole he looked in full deep,<br/> +And at the last he had of him a sight.<br/> +This Nicholas sat ever gaping upright,<br/> +As he had kyked* on the newe moon. *looked <24><br/> +Adown he went, and told his master soon,<br/> +In what array he saw this ilke* man. *same +</p> + +<p> +This carpenter to *blissen him* began, *bless, cross himself*<br/> +And said: “Now help us, Sainte Frideswide.<25><br/> +A man wot* little what shall him betide. *knows<br/> +This man is fall’n with his astronomy<br/> +Into some woodness* or some agony. *madness<br/> +I thought aye well how that it shoulde be.<br/> +Men should know nought of Godde’s privity*. *secrets<br/> +Yea, blessed be alway a lewed* man, *unlearned<br/> +That *nought but only his believe can*. *knows no more<br/> +So far’d another clerk with astronomy: than his “credo.”*<br/> +He walked in the fieldes for to *pry<br/> +Upon* the starres, what there should befall, *keep watch on*<br/> +Till he was in a marle pit y-fall.<26><br/> +He saw not that. But yet, by Saint Thomas!<br/> +*Me rueth sore of* Hendy Nicholas: *I am very sorry for*<br/> +He shall be *rated of* his studying, *chidden for*<br/> +If that I may, by Jesus, heaven’s king!<br/> +Get me a staff, that I may underspore* *lever up<br/> +While that thou, Robin, heavest off the door:<br/> +He shall out of his studying, as I guess.”<br/> +And to the chamber door he gan him dress* *apply himself.<br/> +His knave was a strong carl for the nonce,<br/> +And by the hasp he heav’d it off at once;<br/> +Into the floor the door fell down anon.<br/> +This Nicholas sat aye as still as stone,<br/> +And ever he gap’d upward into the air.<br/> +The carpenter ween’d* he were in despair, *thought<br/> +And hent* him by the shoulders mightily, *caught<br/> +And shook him hard, and cried spitously;* *angrily<br/> +“What, Nicholas? what how, man? look adown:<br/> +Awake, and think on Christe’s passioun.<br/> +I crouche thee<27> from elves, and from wights*. *witches<br/> +Therewith the night-spell said he anon rights*, *properly<br/> +On the four halves* of the house about, *corners<br/> +And on the threshold of the door without.<br/> +“Lord Jesus Christ, and Sainte Benedight,<br/> +Blesse this house from every wicked wight,<br/> +From the night mare, the white Pater-noster;<br/> +Where wonnest* thou now, Sainte Peter’s sister?” *dwellest<br/> +And at the last this Hendy Nicholas<br/> +Gan for to sigh full sore, and said; “Alas!<br/> +Shall all time world be lost eftsoones* now?” *forthwith<br/> +This carpenter answer’d; “What sayest thou?<br/> +What? think on God, as we do, men that swink.*” *labour<br/> +This Nicholas answer’d; “Fetch me a drink;<br/> +And after will I speak in privity<br/> +Of certain thing that toucheth thee and me:<br/> +I will tell it no other man certain.” +</p> + +<p> +This carpenter went down, and came again,<br/> +And brought of mighty ale a large quart;<br/> +And when that each of them had drunk his part,<br/> +This Nicholas his chamber door fast shet*, *shut<br/> +And down the carpenter by him he set,<br/> +And saide; “John, mine host full lief* and dear, *loved<br/> +Thou shalt upon thy truthe swear me here,<br/> +That to no wight thou shalt my counsel wray*: *betray<br/> +For it is Christes counsel that I say,<br/> +And if thou tell it man, thou art forlore:* *lost<28><br/> +For this vengeance thou shalt have therefor,<br/> +That if thou wraye* me, thou shalt be wood**.” *betray **mad<br/> +“Nay, Christ forbid it for his holy blood!”<br/> +Quoth then this silly man; “I am no blab,* *talker<br/> +Nor, though I say it, am I *lief to gab*. *fond of speech*<br/> +Say what thou wilt, I shall it never tell<br/> +To child or wife, by him that harried Hell.” <29> +</p> + +<p> +“Now, John,” quoth Nicholas, “I will not lie,<br/> +I have y-found in my astrology,<br/> +As I have looked in the moone bright,<br/> +That now on Monday next, at quarter night,<br/> +Shall fall a rain, and that so wild and wood*, *mad<br/> +That never half so great was Noe’s flood.<br/> +This world,” he said, “in less than half an hour<br/> +Shall all be dreint*, so hideous is the shower: *drowned<br/> +Thus shall mankinde drench*, and lose their life.” *drown<br/> +This carpenter answer’d; “Alas, my wife!<br/> +And shall she drench? alas, mine Alisoun!”<br/> +For sorrow of this he fell almost adown,<br/> +And said; “Is there no remedy in this case?”<br/> +“Why, yes, for God,” quoth Hendy Nicholas;<br/> +“If thou wilt worken after *lore and rede*; *learning and advice*<br/> +Thou may’st not worken after thine own head.<br/> +For thus saith Solomon, that was full true:<br/> +Work all by counsel, and thou shalt not rue*. *repent<br/> +And if thou worke wilt by good counseil,<br/> +I undertake, withoute mast or sail,<br/> +Yet shall I save her, and thee, and me.<br/> +Hast thou not heard how saved was Noe,<br/> +When that our Lord had warned him beforn,<br/> +That all the world with water *should be lorn*?” *should perish*<br/> +“Yes,” quoth this carpenter,” *full yore ago*.” *long since*<br/> +“Hast thou not heard,” quoth Nicholas, “also<br/> +The sorrow of Noe, with his fellowship,<br/> +That he had ere he got his wife to ship?<30><br/> +*Him had been lever, I dare well undertake,<br/> +At thilke time, than all his wethers black,<br/> +That she had had a ship herself alone.* *see note <31><br/> +And therefore know’st thou what is best to be done?<br/> +This asketh haste, and of an hasty thing<br/> +Men may not preach or make tarrying.<br/> +Anon go get us fast into this inn* *house<br/> +A kneading trough, or else a kemelin*, *brewing-tub<br/> +For each of us; but look that they be large,<br/> +In whiche we may swim* as in a barge: *float<br/> +And have therein vitaille suffisant<br/> +But for one day; fie on the remenant;<br/> +The water shall aslake* and go away *slacken, abate<br/> +Aboute prime* upon the nexte day. *early morning<br/> +But Robin may not know of this, thy knave*, *servant<br/> +Nor eke thy maiden Gill I may not save:<br/> +Ask me not why: for though thou aske me<br/> +I will not telle Godde’s privity.<br/> +Sufficeth thee, *but if thy wit be mad*, *unless thou be<br/> +To have as great a grace as Noe had; out of thy wits*<br/> +Thy wife shall I well saven out of doubt.<br/> +Go now thy way, and speed thee hereabout.<br/> +But when thou hast for her, and thee, and me,<br/> +Y-gotten us these kneading tubbes three,<br/> +Then shalt thou hang them in the roof full high,<br/> +So that no man our purveyance* espy: *foresight, providence<br/> +And when thou hast done thus as I have said,<br/> +And hast our vitaille fair in them y-laid,<br/> +And eke an axe to smite the cord in two<br/> +When that the water comes, that we may go,<br/> +And break an hole on high upon the gable<br/> +Into the garden-ward, over the stable,<br/> +That we may freely passe forth our way,<br/> +When that the greate shower is gone away.<br/> +Then shalt thou swim as merry, I undertake,<br/> +As doth the white duck after her drake:<br/> +Then will I clepe,* ‘How, Alison? How, John? *call<br/> +Be merry: for the flood will pass anon.’<br/> +And thou wilt say, ‘Hail, Master Nicholay,<br/> +Good-morrow, I see thee well, for it is day.’<br/> +And then shall we be lordes all our life<br/> +Of all the world, as Noe and his wife.<br/> +But of one thing I warne thee full right,<br/> +Be well advised, on that ilke* night, *same<br/> +When we be enter’d into shippe’s board,<br/> +That none of us not speak a single word,<br/> +Nor clepe nor cry, but be in his prayere,<br/> +For that is Godde’s owen heste* dear. *command<br/> +Thy wife and thou must hangen far atween*, *asunder<br/> +For that betwixte you shall be no sin,<br/> +No more in looking than there shall in deed.<br/> +This ordinance is said: go, God thee speed<br/> +To-morrow night, when men be all asleep,<br/> +Into our kneading tubbes will we creep,<br/> +And sitte there, abiding Godde’s grace.<br/> +Go now thy way, I have no longer space<br/> +To make of this no longer sermoning:<br/> +Men say thus: Send the wise, and say nothing:<br/> +Thou art so wise, it needeth thee nought teach.<br/> +Go, save our lives, and that I thee beseech.” +</p> + +<p> +This silly carpenter went forth his way,<br/> +Full oft he said, “Alas! and Well-a-day!,’<br/> +And to his wife he told his privity,<br/> +And she was ware, and better knew than he<br/> +What all this *quainte cast was for to say*. *strange contrivance<br/> +But natheless she fear’d as she would dey, meant*<br/> +And said: “Alas! go forth thy way anon.<br/> +Help us to scape, or we be dead each one.<br/> +I am thy true and very wedded wife;<br/> +Go, deare spouse, and help to save our life.”<br/> +Lo, what a great thing is affection!<br/> +Men may die of imagination,<br/> +So deeply may impression be take.<br/> +This silly carpenter begins to quake:<br/> +He thinketh verily that he may see<br/> +This newe flood come weltering as the sea<br/> +To drenchen* Alison, his honey dear. *drown<br/> +He weepeth, waileth, maketh *sorry cheer*; *dismal countenance*<br/> +He sigheth, with full many a sorry sough.* *groan<br/> +He go’th, and getteth him a kneading trough,<br/> +And after that a tub, and a kemelin,<br/> +And privily he sent them to his inn:<br/> +And hung them in the roof full privily.<br/> +With his own hand then made he ladders three,<br/> +To climbe by *the ranges and the stalks* *the rungs and the uprights*<br/> +Unto the tubbes hanging in the balks*; *beams<br/> +And victualed them, kemelin, trough, and tub,<br/> +With bread and cheese, and good ale in a jub*, *jug<br/> +Sufficing right enough as for a day.<br/> +But ere that he had made all this array,<br/> +He sent his knave*, and eke his wench** also, *servant **maid<br/> +Upon his need* to London for to go. *business<br/> +And on the Monday, when it drew to night,<br/> +He shut his door withoute candle light,<br/> +And dressed* every thing as it should be. *prepared<br/> +And shortly up they climbed all the three.<br/> +They satte stille well *a furlong way*. *the time it would take<br/> +“Now, Pater noster, clum,”<32> said Nicholay, to walk a furlong*<br/> +And “clum,” quoth John; and “clum,” said Alison:<br/> +This carpenter said his devotion,<br/> +And still he sat and bidded his prayere,<br/> +Awaking on the rain, if he it hear.<br/> +The deade sleep, for weary business,<br/> +Fell on this carpenter, right as I guess,<br/> +About the curfew-time,<33> or little more,<br/> +For *travail of his ghost* he groaned sore, *anguish of spirit*<br/> +*And eft he routed, for his head mislay.* *and then he snored,<br/> +Adown the ladder stalked Nicholay; for his head lay awry*<br/> +And Alison full soft adown she sped.<br/> +Withoute wordes more they went to bed,<br/> +*There as* the carpenter was wont to lie: *where*<br/> +There was the revel, and the melody.<br/> +And thus lay Alison and Nicholas,<br/> +In business of mirth and in solace,<br/> +Until the bell of laudes* gan to ring, *morning service, at 3.a.m.<br/> +And friars in the chancel went to sing. +</p> + +<p> +This parish clerk, this amorous Absolon,<br/> +That is for love alway so woebegone,<br/> +Upon the Monday was at Oseney<br/> +With company, him to disport and play;<br/> +And asked upon cas* a cloisterer** *occasion **monk<br/> +Full privily after John the carpenter;<br/> +And he drew him apart out of the church,<br/> +And said, “I n’ot;* I saw him not here wirch** *know not **work<br/> +Since Saturday; I trow that he be went<br/> +For timber, where our abbot hath him sent.<br/> +And dwellen at the Grange a day or two:<br/> +For he is wont for timber for to go,<br/> +Or else he is at his own house certain.<br/> +Where that he be, I cannot *soothly sayn.*” *say certainly*<br/> +This Absolon full jolly was and light,<br/> +And thought, “Now is the time to wake all night,<br/> +For sickerly* I saw him not stirring *certainly<br/> +About his door, since day began to spring.<br/> +So may I thrive, but I shall at cock crow<br/> +Full privily go knock at his window,<br/> +That stands full low upon his bower* wall: *chamber<br/> +To Alison then will I tellen all<br/> +My love-longing; for I shall not miss<br/> +That at the leaste way I shall her kiss.<br/> +Some manner comfort shall I have, parfay*, *by my faith<br/> +My mouth hath itched all this livelong day:<br/> +That is a sign of kissing at the least.<br/> +All night I mette* eke I was at a feast. *dreamt<br/> +Therefore I will go sleep an hour or tway,<br/> +And all the night then will I wake and play.”<br/> +When that the first cock crowed had, anon<br/> +Up rose this jolly lover Absolon,<br/> +And him arrayed gay, *at point devise.* *with exact care*<br/> +But first he chewed grains<34> and liquorice,<br/> +To smelle sweet, ere he had combed his hair.<br/> +Under his tongue a true love <35> he bare,<br/> +For thereby thought he to be gracious. +</p> + +<p> +Then came he to the carpentere’s house,<br/> +And still he stood under the shot window;<br/> +Unto his breast it raught*, it was so low; *reached<br/> +And soft he coughed with a semisoun’.* *low tone<br/> +“What do ye, honeycomb, sweet Alisoun?<br/> +My faire bird, my sweet cinamome*, *cinnamon, sweet spice<br/> +Awaken, leman* mine, and speak to me. *mistress<br/> +Full little thinke ye upon my woe,<br/> +That for your love I sweat *there as* I go. *wherever<br/> +No wonder is that I do swelt* and sweat. *faint<br/> +I mourn as doth a lamb after the teat<br/> +Y-wis*, leman, I have such love-longing, *certainly<br/> +That like a turtle* true is my mourning. *turtle-dove<br/> +I may not eat, no more than a maid.”<br/> +“Go from the window, thou jack fool,” she said:<br/> +“As help me God, it will not be, ‘come ba* me.’ *kiss<br/> +I love another, else I were to blame”,<br/> +Well better than thee, by Jesus, Absolon.<br/> +Go forth thy way, or I will cast a stone;<br/> +And let me sleep; *a twenty devil way*. *twenty devils take ye!*<br/> +“Alas!” quoth Absolon, “and well away!<br/> +That true love ever was so ill beset:<br/> +Then kiss me, since that it may be no bet*, *better<br/> +For Jesus’ love, and for the love of me.”<br/> +“Wilt thou then go thy way therewith?” , quoth she.<br/> +“Yea, certes, leman,” quoth this Absolon.<br/> +“Then make thee ready,” quoth she, “I come anon.”<br/> +[And unto Nicholas she said *full still*: *in a low voice*<br/> +“Now peace, and thou shalt laugh anon thy fill.”]<36><br/> +This Absolon down set him on his knees,<br/> +And said; “I am a lord at all degrees:<br/> +For after this I hope there cometh more;<br/> +Leman, thy grace, and, sweete bird, thine ore.*” *favour<br/> +The window she undid, and that in haste.<br/> +“Have done,” quoth she, “come off, and speed thee fast,<br/> +Lest that our neighebours should thee espy.”<br/> +Then Absolon gan wipe his mouth full dry.<br/> +Dark was the night as pitch or as the coal,<br/> +And at the window she put out her hole,<br/> +And Absolon him fell ne bet ne werse,<br/> +But with his mouth he kiss’d her naked erse<br/> +Full savourly. When he was ware of this,<br/> +Aback he start, and thought it was amiss;<br/> +For well he wist a woman hath no beard.<br/> +He felt a thing all rough, and long y-hair’d,<br/> +And saide; “Fy, alas! what have I do?”<br/> +“Te he!” quoth she, and clapt the window to;<br/> +And Absolon went forth at sorry pace.<br/> +“A beard, a beard,” said Hendy Nicholas;<br/> +“By God’s corpus, this game went fair and well.”<br/> +This silly Absolon heard every deal*, *word<br/> +And on his lip he gan for anger bite;<br/> +And to himself he said, “I shall thee quite*. *requite, be even with<br/> +Who rubbeth now, who frotteth* now his lips *rubs<br/> +With dust, with sand, with straw, with cloth, with chips,<br/> +But Absolon? that saith full oft, “Alas!<br/> +My soul betake I unto Sathanas,<br/> +But me were lever* than all this town,” quoth he *rather<br/> +I this despite awroken* for to be. *revenged<br/> +Alas! alas! that I have been y-blent*.” *deceived<br/> +His hote love is cold, and all y-quent.* *quenched<br/> +For from that time that he had kiss’d her erse,<br/> +Of paramours he *sette not a kers,* *cared not a rush*<br/> +For he was healed of his malady;<br/> +Full often paramours he gan defy,<br/> +And weep as doth a child that hath been beat.<br/> +A softe pace he went over the street<br/> +Unto a smith, men callen Dan* Gerveis, *master<br/> +That in his forge smithed plough-harness;<br/> +He sharped share and culter busily.<br/> +This Absolon knocked all easily,<br/> +And said; “Undo, Gerveis, and that anon.”<br/> +“What, who art thou?” “It is I, Absolon.”<br/> +“What? Absolon, what? Christe’s sweete tree*, *cross<br/> +Why rise so rath*? hey! Benedicite, *early<br/> +What aileth you? some gay girl,<37> God it wote,<br/> +Hath brought you thus upon the viretote:<38><br/> +By Saint Neot, ye wot well what I mean.”<br/> +This Absolon he raughte* not a bean *recked, cared<br/> +Of all his play; no word again he gaf*, *spoke<br/> +For he had more tow on his distaff<39><br/> +Than Gerveis knew, and saide; “Friend so dear,<br/> +That hote culter in the chimney here<br/> +Lend it to me, I have therewith to don*: *do<br/> +I will it bring again to thee full soon.”<br/> +Gerveis answered; “Certes, were it gold,<br/> +Or in a poke* nobles all untold, *purse<br/> +Thou shouldst it have, as I am a true smith.<br/> +Hey! Christe’s foot, what will ye do therewith?”<br/> +“Thereof,” quoth Absolon, “be as be may;<br/> +I shall well tell it thee another day:”<br/> +And caught the culter by the colde stele*. *handle<br/> +Full soft out at the door he gan to steal,<br/> +And went unto the carpentere’s wall<br/> +He coughed first, and knocked therewithal<br/> +Upon the window, light as he did ere*. *before <40><br/> +This Alison answered; “Who is there<br/> +That knocketh so? I warrant him a thief.”<br/> +“Nay, nay,” quoth he, “God wot, my sweete lefe*, *love<br/> +I am thine Absolon, my own darling.<br/> +Of gold,” quoth he, “I have thee brought a ring,<br/> +My mother gave it me, so God me save!<br/> +Full fine it is, and thereto well y-grave*: *engraved<br/> +This will I give to thee, if thou me kiss.”<br/> +Now Nicholas was risen up to piss,<br/> +And thought he would *amenden all the jape*; *improve the joke*<br/> +He shoulde kiss his erse ere that he scape:<br/> +And up the window did he hastily,<br/> +And out his erse he put full privily<br/> +Over the buttock, to the haunche bone.<br/> +And therewith spake this clerk, this Absolon,<br/> +“Speak, sweete bird, I know not where thou art.”<br/> +This Nicholas anon let fly a fart,<br/> +As great as it had been a thunder dent*; *peal, clap<br/> +That with the stroke he was well nigh y-blent*; *blinded<br/> +But he was ready with his iron hot,<br/> +And Nicholas amid the erse he smote.<br/> +Off went the skin an handbreadth all about.<br/> +The hote culter burned so his tout*, *breech<br/> +That for the smart he weened* he would die; *thought<br/> +As he were wood*, for woe he gan to cry, *mad<br/> +“Help! water, water, help for Godde’s heart!” +</p> + +<p> +This carpenter out of his slumber start,<br/> +And heard one cry “Water,” as he were wood*, *mad<br/> +And thought, “Alas! now cometh Noe’s flood.”<br/> +He sat him up withoute wordes mo’<br/> +And with his axe he smote the cord in two;<br/> +And down went all; he found neither to sell<br/> +Nor bread nor ale, till he came to the sell*, *threshold <41><br/> +Upon the floor, and there in swoon he lay.<br/> +Up started Alison and Nicholay,<br/> +And cried out an “harow!” <15> in the street.<br/> +The neighbours alle, bothe small and great<br/> +In ranne, for to gauren* on this man, *stare<br/> +That yet in swoone lay, both pale and wan:<br/> +For with the fall he broken had his arm.<br/> +But stand he must unto his owen harm,<br/> +For when he spake, he was anon borne down<br/> +With Hendy Nicholas and Alisoun.<br/> +They told to every man that he was wood*; *mad<br/> +He was aghaste* so of Noe’s flood, *afraid<br/> +Through phantasy, that of his vanity<br/> +He had y-bought him kneading-tubbes three,<br/> +And had them hanged in the roof above;<br/> +And that he prayed them for Godde’s love<br/> +To sitten in the roof for company.<br/> +The folk gan laughen at his phantasy.<br/> +Into the roof they kyken* and they gape, *peep, look.<br/> +And turned all his harm into a jape*. *jest<br/> +For whatsoe’er this carpenter answer’d,<br/> +It was for nought, no man his reason heard.<br/> +With oathes great he was so sworn adown,<br/> +That he was holden wood in all the town.<br/> +For every clerk anon right held with other;<br/> +They said, “The man was wood, my leve* brother;” *dear<br/> +And every wight gan laughen at his strife.<br/> +Thus swived* was the carpentere’s wife, *enjoyed<br/> +For all his keeping* and his jealousy; *care<br/> +And Absolon hath kiss’d her nether eye;<br/> +And Nicholas is scalded in the tout.<br/> +This tale is done, and God save all the rout*. *company +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Miller’s Tale +</p> + +<p> +1. Almagest: The book of Ptolemy the astronomer, which +formed the canon of astrological science in the middle ages. +</p> + +<p> +2. Astrolabe: “Astrelagour,” “astrelabore”; a mathematical +instrument for taking the altitude of the sun or stars. +</p> + +<p> +3. “Augrim” is a corruption of algorithm, the Arabian term for +numeration; “augrim stones,” therefore were probably marked +with numerals, and used as counters. +</p> + +<p> +4. Angelus ad virginem: The Angel’s salutation to Mary; Luke i. +28. It was the “Ave Maria” of the Catholic Church service. +</p> + +<p> +5. Cato: Though Chaucer may have referred to the famous +Censor, more probably the reference is merely to the “Moral +Distichs,” which go under his name, though written after his +time; and in a supplement to which the quoted passage may be +found. +</p> + +<p> +6. Barm-cloth: apron; from Anglo-Saxon “barme,” bosom or +lap. +</p> + +<p> +7. Volupere: Head-gear, kerchief; from French, “envelopper,” +to wrap up. +</p> + +<p> +8. Popelet: Puppet; but chiefly; young wench. +</p> + +<p> +9. Noble: nobles were gold coins of especial purity and +brightness; “Ex auro nobilissimi, unde nobilis vocatus,” (made +from the noblest (purest) gold, and therefore called nobles) says +Vossius. +</p> + +<p> +10. Yern: Shrill, lively; German, “gern,” willingly, cheerfully. +</p> + +<p> +11. Braket: bragget, a sweet drink made of honey, spices, &c. +In some parts of the country, a drink made from honeycomb, +after the honey is extracted, is still called “bragwort.” +</p> + +<p> +12. Piggesnie: a fond term, like “my duck;” from Anglo-Saxon, +“piga,” a young maid; but Tyrwhitt associates it with the Latin, +“ocellus,” little eye, a fondling term, and suggests that the “pigs- +eye,” which is very small, was applied in the same sense. +Davenport and Butler both use the word pigsnie, the first for +“darling,” the second literally for “eye;” and Bishop Gardner, +“On True Obedience,” in his address to the reader, says: “How +softly she was wont to chirpe him under the chin, and kiss him; +how prettily she could talk to him (how doth my sweet heart, +what saith now pig’s-eye).” +</p> + +<p> +13. Oseney: A once well-known abbey near Oxford. +</p> + +<p> +14. Trave: travis; a frame in which unruly horses were shod. +</p> + +<p> +15. Harow and Alas: Haro! was an old Norman cry for redress +or aid. The “Clameur de Haro” was lately raised, under peculiar +circumstances, as the prelude to a legal protest, in Jersey. +</p> + +<p> +16. His shoes were ornamented like the windows of St. Paul’s, +especially like the old rose-window. +</p> + +<p> +17. Rise: Twig, bush; German, “Reis,” a twig; “Reisig,” a copse. +</p> + +<p> +18. Chaucer satirises the dancing of Oxford as he did the French +of Stratford at Bow. +</p> + +<p> +19. Shot window: A projecting or bow window, whence it was +possible shoot at any one approaching the door. +</p> + +<p> +20. Piment: A drink made with wine, honey, and spices. +</p> + +<p> +21. Because she was town-bred, he offered wealth, or money +reward, for her love. +</p> + +<p> +22. Parish-clerks, like Absolon, had leading parts in the +mysteries or religious plays; Herod was one of these parts, +which may have been an object of competition among the +amateurs of the period. +</p> + +<p> +23 .”The nighe sly maketh oft time the far lief to be loth”: a +proverb; the cunning one near at hand oft makes the loving one +afar off to be odious. +</p> + +<p> +24. Kyked: Looked; “keek” is still used in some parts in the +sense of “peep.” +</p> + +<p> +25. Saint Frideswide was the patroness of a considerable priory +at Oxford, and held there in high repute. +</p> + +<p> +26. Plato, in his “Theatetus,” tells this story of Thales; but +it has since appeared in many other forms. +</p> + +<p> +27. Crouche: protect by signing the sign of the cross. +</p> + +<p> +28. Forlore: lost; german, “verloren.” +</p> + +<p> +29. Him that harried Hell: Christ who wasted or subdued hell: in +the middle ages, some very active exploits against the prince of +darkness and his powers were ascribed by the monkish tale- +tellers to the saviour after he had “descended into hell.” +</p> + +<p> +30. According to the old mysteries, Noah’s wife refused to +come into the ark, and bade her husband row forth and get him +a new wife, because he was leaving her gossips in the town to +drown. Shem and his brothers got her shipped by main force; +and Noah, coming forward to welcome her, was greeted with a +box on the ear. +</p> + +<p> +31. “Him had been lever, I dare well undertake, +At thilke time, than all his wethers black, +That she had had a ship herself alone.” +i.e. +“At that time he would have given all his black wethers, if she +had had an ark to herself.” +</p> + +<p> +32. “Clum,” like “mum,” a note of silence; but otherwise +explained as the humming sound made in repeating prayers; +from the Anglo-Saxon, “clumian,” to mutter, speak in an under- +tone, keep silence. +</p> + +<p> +33. Curfew-time: Eight in the evening, when, by the law of +William the Conqueror, all people were, on ringing of a bell, to +extinguish fire and candle, and go to rest; hence the word +curfew, from French, “couvre-feu,” cover-fire. +</p> + +<p> +34. Absolon chewed grains: these were grains of Paris, or +Paradise; a favourite spice. +</p> + +<p> +35. Under his tongue a true love he bare: some sweet herb; +another reading, however, is “a true love-knot,” which may +have been of the nature of a charm. +</p> + +<p> +36. The two lines within brackets are not in most of the +editions: they are taken from Urry; whether he supplied them or +not, they serve the purpose of a necessary explanation. +</p> + +<p> +37. Gay girl: As applied to a young woman of light manners, +this euphemistic phrase has enjoyed a wonderful vitality. +</p> + +<p> +38. Viretote: Urry reads “meritote,” and explains it from +Spelman as a game in which children made themselves giddy by +whirling on ropes. In French, “virer” means to turn; and the +explanation may, therefore, suit either reading. In modern slang +parlance, Gerveis would probably have said, “on the rampage,” +or “on the swing” — not very far from Spelman’s rendering. +</p> + +<p> +39. He had more tow on his distaff: a proverbial saying: he was +playing a deeper game, had more serious business on hand. +</p> + +<p> +40. Ere: before; German, “eher.” +</p> + +<p> +41. Sell: sill of the door, threshold; French, “seuil,” Latin, +“solum,” the ground. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap07"></a>THE REEVE’S TALE.</h2> + +<h3>THE PROLOGUE.</h3> + +<p> +WHEN folk had laughed all at this nice case<br/> +Of Absolon and Hendy Nicholas,<br/> +Diverse folk diversely they said,<br/> +But for the more part they laugh’d and play’d;* *were diverted<br/> +And at this tale I saw no man him grieve,<br/> +But it were only Osewold the Reeve.<br/> +Because he was of carpenteres craft,<br/> +A little ire is in his hearte laft*; *left<br/> +He gan to grudge* and blamed it a lite.** *murmur **little.<br/> +“So the* I,” quoth he, “full well could I him quite** *thrive **match<br/> +With blearing* of a proude miller’s eye, *dimming <1><br/> +If that me list to speak of ribaldry.<br/> +But I am old; me list not play for age; <2><br/> +Grass time is done, my fodder is now forage.<br/> +This white top* writeth mine olde years; *head<br/> +Mine heart is also moulded* as mine hairs; *grown mouldy<br/> +And I do fare as doth an open-erse*; *medlar <3><br/> +That ilke* fruit is ever longer werse, *same<br/> +Till it be rotten *in mullok or in stre*. *on the ground or in straw*<br/> +We olde men, I dread, so fare we;<br/> +Till we be rotten, can we not be ripe;<br/> +We hop* away, while that the world will pipe; *dance<br/> +For in our will there sticketh aye a nail,<br/> +To have an hoary head and a green tail,<br/> +As hath a leek; for though our might be gone,<br/> +Our will desireth folly ever-in-one*: *continually<br/> +For when we may not do, then will we speak,<br/> +Yet in our ashes cold does fire reek.* *smoke<4><br/> +Four gledes* have we, which I shall devise**, *coals ** describe<br/> +Vaunting, and lying, anger, covetise*. *covetousness<br/> +These foure sparks belongen unto eld.<br/> +Our olde limbes well may be unweld*, *unwieldy<br/> +But will shall never fail us, that is sooth.<br/> +And yet have I alway a coltes tooth,<5><br/> +As many a year as it is passed and gone<br/> +Since that my tap of life began to run;<br/> +For sickerly*, when I was born, anon *certainly<br/> +Death drew the tap of life, and let it gon:<br/> +And ever since hath so the tap y-run,<br/> +Till that almost all empty is the tun.<br/> +The stream of life now droppeth on the chimb.<6><br/> +The silly tongue well may ring and chime<br/> +Of wretchedness, that passed is full yore*: *long<br/> +With olde folk, save dotage, is no more. <7> +</p> + +<p> +When that our Host had heard this sermoning,<br/> +He gan to speak as lordly as a king,<br/> +And said; “To what amounteth all this wit?<br/> +What? shall we speak all day of holy writ?<br/> +The devil made a Reeve for to preach,<br/> +As of a souter* a shipman, or a leach**. *cobbler <8><br/> +Say forth thy tale, and tarry not the time: **surgeon <9><br/> +Lo here is Deptford, and ’tis half past prime:<10><br/> +Lo Greenwich, where many a shrew is in.<br/> +It were high time thy tale to begin.” +</p> + +<p> +“Now, sirs,” quoth then this Osewold the Reeve,<br/> +I pray you all that none of you do grieve,<br/> +Though I answer, and somewhat set his hove*, *hood <11><br/> +For lawful is *force off with force to shove.* *to repel force<br/> +This drunken miller hath y-told us here by force*<br/> +How that beguiled was a carpentere,<br/> +Paraventure* in scorn, for I am one: *perhaps<br/> +And, by your leave, I shall him quite anon.<br/> +Right in his churlish termes will I speak,<br/> +I pray to God his necke might to-break.<br/> +He can well in mine eye see a stalk,<br/> +But in his own he cannot see a balk.”<12> +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Prologue to the Reeves Tale. +</p> + +<p> + 1. “With blearing of a proude miller’s eye”: dimming his eye; +playing off a joke on him. +</p> + +<p> +2. “Me list not play for age”: age takes away my zest for +drollery. +</p> + +<p> +3. The medlar, the fruit of the mespilus tree, is only edible when +rotten. +</p> + +<p> +4. Yet in our ashes cold does fire reek: “ev’n in our ashes live +their wonted fires.” +</p> + +<p> +5. A colt’s tooth; a wanton humour, a relish for pleasure. +</p> + +<p> +6. Chimb: The rim of a barrel where the staves project beyond +the head. +</p> + +<p> +7. With olde folk, save dotage, is no more: Dotage is all that is +left them; that is, they can only dwell fondly, dote, on the past. +</p> + +<p> +8. Souter: cobbler; Scottice, “sutor;”’ from Latin, “suere,” to +sew. +</p> + +<p> +9. “Ex sutore medicus” (a surgeon from a cobbler) and “ex +sutore nauclerus” (a seaman or pilot from a cobbler) were both +proverbial expressions in the Middle Ages. +</p> + +<p> +10. Half past prime: half-way between prime and tierce; about +half-past seven in the morning. +</p> + +<p> +11. Set his hove; like “set their caps;” as in the description of +the Manciple in the Prologue, who “set their aller cap”. “Hove” +or “houfe,” means “hood;” and the phrase signifies to be even +with, outwit. +</p> + +<p> +12. The illustration of the mote and the beam, from Matthew. +</p> + +<h3>THE TALE.<1></h3> + +<p> +At Trompington, not far from Cantebrig,* *Cambridge<br/> +There goes a brook, and over that a brig,<br/> +Upon the whiche brook there stands a mill:<br/> +And this is *very sooth* that I you tell. *complete truth*<br/> +A miller was there dwelling many a day,<br/> +As any peacock he was proud and gay:<br/> +Pipen he could, and fish, and nettes bete*, *prepare<br/> +And turne cups, and wrestle well, and shete*. *shoot<br/> +Aye by his belt he bare a long pavade*, *poniard<br/> +And of his sword full trenchant was the blade.<br/> +A jolly popper* bare he in his pouch; *dagger<br/> +There was no man for peril durst him touch.<br/> +A Sheffield whittle* bare he in his hose. *small knife<br/> +Round was his face, and camuse* was his nose. *flat <2><br/> +As pilled* as an ape’s was his skull. *peeled, bald.<br/> +He was a market-beter* at the full. *brawler<br/> +There durste no wight hand upon him legge*, *lay<br/> +That he ne swore anon he should abegge*. *suffer the penalty +</p> + +<p> +A thief he was, for sooth, of corn and meal,<br/> +And that a sly, and used well to steal.<br/> +His name was *hoten deinous Simekin* *called “Disdainful Simkin”*<br/> +A wife he hadde, come of noble kin:<br/> +The parson of the town her father was.<br/> +With her he gave full many a pan of brass,<br/> +For that Simkin should in his blood ally.<br/> +She was y-foster’d in a nunnery:<br/> +For Simkin woulde no wife, as he said,<br/> +But she were well y-nourish’d, and a maid,<br/> +To saven his estate and yeomanry:<br/> +And she was proud, and pert as is a pie*. *magpie<br/> +A full fair sight it was to see them two;<br/> +On holy days before her would he go<br/> +With his tippet* y-bound about his head; *hood<br/> +And she came after in a gite* of red, *gown <3><br/> +And Simkin hadde hosen of the same.<br/> +There durste no wight call her aught but Dame:<br/> +None was so hardy, walking by that way,<br/> +That with her either durste *rage or play*, *use freedom*<br/> +*But if* he would be slain by Simekin *unless<br/> +With pavade, or with knife, or bodekin.<br/> +For jealous folk be per’lous evermo’:<br/> +Algate* they would their wives *wende so*. *unless *so behave*<br/> +And eke for she was somewhat smutterlich*, *dirty<br/> +She was as dign* as water in a ditch, *nasty<br/> +And all so full of hoker*, and bismare**. *ill-nature **abusive speech<br/> +Her thoughte that a lady should her spare*, *not judge her hardly<br/> +What for her kindred, and her nortelrie* *nurturing, education<br/> +That she had learned in the nunnery. +</p> + +<p> +One daughter hadde they betwixt them two<br/> +Of twenty year, withouten any mo,<br/> +Saving a child that was of half year age,<br/> +In cradle it lay, and was a proper page.* *boy<br/> +This wenche thick and well y-growen was,<br/> +With camuse* nose, and eyen gray as glass; *flat<br/> +With buttocks broad, and breastes round and high;<br/> +But right fair was her hair, I will not lie.<br/> +The parson of the town, for she was fair,<br/> +In purpose was to make of her his heir<br/> +Both of his chattels and his messuage,<br/> +And *strange he made it* of her marriage. *he made it a matter<br/> +His purpose was for to bestow her high of difficulty*<br/> +Into some worthy blood of ancestry.<br/> +For holy Church’s good may be dispended* *spent<br/> +On holy Church’s blood that is descended.<br/> +Therefore he would his holy blood honour<br/> +Though that he holy Churche should devour. +</p> + +<p> +Great soken* hath this miller, out of doubt, *toll taken for grinding<br/> +With wheat and malt, of all the land about;<br/> +And namely* there was a great college *especially<br/> +Men call the Soler Hall at Cantebrege,<4><br/> +There was their wheat and eke their malt y-ground.<br/> +And on a day it happed in a stound*, *suddenly<br/> +Sick lay the manciple* of a malady, *steward <5><br/> +Men *weened wisly* that he shoulde die. *thought certainly*<br/> +For which this miller stole both meal and corn<br/> +An hundred times more than beforn.<br/> +For theretofore he stole but courteously,<br/> +But now he was a thief outrageously.<br/> +For which the warden chid and made fare*, *fuss<br/> +But thereof *set the miller not a tare*; *he cared not a rush*<br/> +He *crack’d his boast,* and swore it was not so. *talked big* +</p> + +<p> +Then were there younge poore scholars two,<br/> +That dwelled in the hall of which I say;<br/> +Testif* they were, and lusty for to play; *headstrong <6><br/> +And only for their mirth and revelry<br/> +Upon the warden busily they cry,<br/> +To give them leave for but a *little stound*, *short time*<br/> +To go to mill, and see their corn y-ground:<br/> +And hardily* they durste lay their neck, *boldly<br/> +The miller should not steal them half a peck<br/> +Of corn by sleight, nor them by force bereave* *take away<br/> +And at the last the warden give them leave:<br/> +John hight the one, and Alein hight the other,<br/> +Of one town were they born, that highte Strother,<7><br/> +Far in the North, I cannot tell you where.<br/> +This Alein he made ready all his gear,<br/> +And on a horse the sack he cast anon:<br/> +Forth went Alein the clerk, and also John,<br/> +With good sword and with buckler by their side.<br/> +John knew the way, him needed not no guide,<br/> +And at the mill the sack adown he lay’th. +</p> + +<p> +Alein spake first; “All hail, Simon, in faith,<br/> +How fares thy faire daughter, and thy wife.”<br/> +“Alein, welcome,” quoth Simkin, “by my life,<br/> +And John also: how now, what do ye here?”<br/> +“By God, Simon,” quoth John, “need has no peer*. *equal<br/> +Him serve himself behoves that has no swain*, *servant<br/> +Or else he is a fool, as clerkes sayn.<br/> +Our manciple I hope* he will be dead, *expect<br/> +So workes aye the wanges* in his head: *cheek-teeth <8><br/> +And therefore is I come, and eke Alein,<br/> +To grind our corn and carry it home again:<br/> +I pray you speed us hence as well ye may.”<br/> +“It shall be done,” quoth Simkin, “by my fay.<br/> +What will ye do while that it is in hand?”<br/> +“By God, right by the hopper will I stand,”<br/> +Quoth John, “and see how that the corn goes in.<br/> +Yet saw I never, by my father’s kin,<br/> +How that the hopper wagges to and fro.”<br/> +Alein answered, “John, and wilt thou so?<br/> +Then will I be beneathe, by my crown,<br/> +And see how that the meale falls adown<br/> +Into the trough, that shall be my disport*: *amusement<br/> +For, John, in faith I may be of your sort;<br/> +I is as ill a miller as is ye.” +</p> + +<p> +This miller smiled at their nicety*, *simplicity<br/> +And thought, “All this is done but for a wile.<br/> +They weenen* that no man may them beguile, *think<br/> +But by my thrift yet shall I blear their eye,<9><br/> +For all the sleight in their philosophy.<br/> +The more *quainte knackes* that they make, *odd little tricks*<br/> +The more will I steal when that I take.<br/> +Instead of flour yet will I give them bren*. *bran<br/> +The greatest clerks are not the wisest men,<br/> +As whilom to the wolf thus spake the mare: <10><br/> +Of all their art ne count I not a tare.”<br/> +Out at the door he went full privily,<br/> +When that he saw his time, softely.<br/> +He looked up and down, until he found<br/> +The clerkes’ horse, there as he stood y-bound<br/> +Behind the mill, under a levesell:* *arbour<11><br/> +And to the horse he went him fair and well,<br/> +And stripped off the bridle right anon.<br/> +And when the horse was loose, he gan to gon<br/> +Toward the fen, where wilde mares run,<br/> +Forth, with “Wehee!” through thick and eke through thin.<br/> +This miller went again, no word he said,<br/> +But did his note*, and with these clerkes play’d, *business <12><br/> +Till that their corn was fair and well y-ground.<br/> +And when the meal was sacked and y-bound,<br/> +Then John went out, and found his horse away,<br/> +And gan to cry, “Harow, and well-away!<br/> +Our horse is lost: Alein, for Godde’s bones,<br/> +Step on thy feet; come off, man, all at once:<br/> +Alas! our warden has his palfrey lorn.*” *lost<br/> +This Alein all forgot, both meal and corn;<br/> +All was out of his mind his husbandry*. *careful watch over<br/> +“What, which way is he gone?” he gan to cry. the corn*<br/> +The wife came leaping inward at a renne*, *run<br/> +She said; “Alas! your horse went to the fen<br/> +With wilde mares, as fast as he could go.<br/> +Unthank* come on his hand that bound him so *ill luck, a curse<br/> +And his that better should have knit the rein.”<br/> +“Alas!” quoth John, “Alein, for Christes pain<br/> +Lay down thy sword, and I shall mine also.<br/> +I is full wight*, God wate**, as is a roe. *swift **knows<br/> +By Godde’s soul he shall not scape us bathe*. *both <13><br/> +Why n’ had thou put the capel* in the lathe**? *horse<14> **barn<br/> +Ill hail, Alein, by God thou is a fonne.*” *fool<br/> +These silly clerkes have full fast y-run<br/> +Toward the fen, both Alein and eke John;<br/> +And when the miller saw that they were gone,<br/> +He half a bushel of their flour did take,<br/> +And bade his wife go knead it in a cake.<br/> +He said; I trow, the clerkes were afeard,<br/> +Yet can a miller *make a clerkes beard,* *cheat a scholar* <15><br/> +For all his art: yea, let them go their way!<br/> +Lo where they go! yea, let the children play:<br/> +They get him not so lightly, by my crown.”<br/> +These silly clerkes runnen up and down<br/> +With “Keep, keep; stand, stand; jossa*, warderere. *turn<br/> +Go whistle thou, and I shall keep* him here.” *catch<br/> +But shortly, till that it was very night<br/> +They coulde not, though they did all their might,<br/> +Their capel catch, he ran alway so fast:<br/> +Till in a ditch they caught him at the last. +</p> + +<p> +Weary and wet, as beastes in the rain,<br/> +Comes silly John, and with him comes Alein.<br/> +“Alas,” quoth John, “the day that I was born!<br/> +Now are we driv’n till hething* and till scorn. *mockery<br/> +Our corn is stol’n, men will us fonnes* call, *fools<br/> +Both the warden, and eke our fellows all,<br/> +And namely* the miller, well-away!” *especially<br/> +Thus plained John, as he went by the way<br/> +Toward the mill, and Bayard* in his hand. *the bay horse<br/> +The miller sitting by the fire he fand*. *found<br/> +For it was night, and forther* might they not, *go their way<br/> +But for the love of God they him besought<br/> +Of herberow* and ease, for their penny. *lodging<br/> +The miller said again,” If there be any,<br/> +Such as it is, yet shall ye have your part.<br/> +Mine house is strait, but ye have learned art;<br/> +Ye can by arguments maken a place<br/> +A mile broad, of twenty foot of space.<br/> +Let see now if this place may suffice,<br/> +Or make it room with speech, as is your guise.*” *fashion<br/> +“Now, Simon,” said this John, “by Saint Cuthberd<br/> +Aye is thou merry, and that is fair answer’d.<br/> +I have heard say, man shall take of two things,<br/> +Such as he findes, or such as he brings.<br/> +But specially I pray thee, hoste dear,<br/> +Gar <16> us have meat and drink, and make us cheer,<br/> +And we shall pay thee truly at the full:<br/> +With empty hand men may not hawkes tull*. *allure<br/> +Lo here our silver ready for to spend.” +</p> + +<p> +This miller to the town his daughter send<br/> +For ale and bread, and roasted them a goose,<br/> +And bound their horse, he should no more go loose:<br/> +And them in his own chamber made a bed.<br/> +With sheetes and with chalons* fair y-spread, *blankets<17><br/> +Not from his owen bed ten foot or twelve:<br/> +His daughter had a bed all by herselve,<br/> +Right in the same chamber *by and by*: *side by side*<br/> +It might no better be, and cause why,<br/> +There was no *roomer herberow* in the place. *roomier lodging*<br/> +They suppen, and they speaken of solace,<br/> +And drinken ever strong ale at the best.<br/> +Aboute midnight went they all to rest.<br/> +Well had this miller varnished his head;<br/> +Full pale he was, fordrunken, and *nought red*. *without his wits*<br/> +He yoxed*, and he spake thorough the nose, *hiccuped<br/> +As he were in the quakke*, or in the pose**. *grunting **catarrh<br/> +To bed he went, and with him went his wife,<br/> +As any jay she light was and jolife,* *jolly<br/> +So was her jolly whistle well y-wet.<br/> +The cradle at her beddes feet was set,<br/> +To rock, and eke to give the child to suck.<br/> +And when that drunken was all in the crock* *pitcher<18><br/> +To bedde went the daughter right anon,<br/> +To bedde went Alein, and also John.<br/> +There was no more; needed them no dwale.<19><br/> +This miller had, so wisly* bibbed ale, *certainly<br/> +That as a horse he snorted in his sleep,<br/> +Nor of his tail behind he took no keep*. *heed<br/> +His wife bare him a burdoun*, a full strong; *bass <20><br/> +Men might their routing* hearen a furlong. *snoring +</p> + +<p> +The wenche routed eke for company.<br/> +Alein the clerk, that heard this melody,<br/> +He poked John, and saide: “Sleepest thou?<br/> +Heardest thou ever such a song ere now?<br/> +Lo what a compline<21> is y-mell* them all. *among<br/> +A wilde fire upon their bodies fall,<br/> +Who hearken’d ever such a ferly* thing? *strange <22><br/> +Yea, they shall have the flow’r of ill ending!<br/> +This longe night there *tides me* no rest. *comes to me*<br/> +But yet no force*, all shall be for the best. *matter<br/> +For, John,” said he, “as ever may I thrive,<br/> +If that I may, yon wenche will I swive*. *enjoy carnally<br/> +Some easement* has law y-shapen** us *satisfaction **provided<br/> +For, John, there is a law that sayeth thus,<br/> +That if a man in one point be aggriev’d,<br/> +That in another he shall be relievd.<br/> +Our corn is stol’n, soothly it is no nay,<br/> +And we have had an evil fit to-day.<br/> +And since I shall have none amendement<br/> +Against my loss, I will have easement:<br/> +By Godde’s soul, it shall none, other be.”<br/> +This John answer’d; Alein, *avise thee*: *have a care*<br/> +The miller is a perilous man,” he said,<br/> +“And if that he out of his sleep abraid*, *awaked<br/> +He mighte do us both a villainy*.” *mischief<br/> +Alein answer’d; “I count him not a fly.<br/> +And up he rose, and by the wench he crept.<br/> +This wenche lay upright, and fast she slept,<br/> +Till he so nigh was, ere she might espy,<br/> +That it had been too late for to cry:<br/> +And, shortly for to say, they were at one.<br/> +Now play, Alein, for I will speak of John. +</p> + +<p> +This John lay still a furlong way <23> or two,<br/> +And to himself he made ruth* and woe. *wail<br/> +“Alas!” quoth he, “this is a wicked jape*; *trick<br/> +Now may I say, that I is but an ape.<br/> +Yet has my fellow somewhat for his harm;<br/> +He has the miller’s daughter in his arm:<br/> +He auntred* him, and hath his needes sped, *adventured<br/> +And I lie as a draff-sack in my bed;<br/> +And when this jape is told another day,<br/> +I shall be held a daffe* or a cockenay <24> *coward<br/> +I will arise, and auntre* it, by my fay: *attempt<br/> +Unhardy is unsely, <25> as men say.”<br/> +And up he rose, and softely he went<br/> +Unto the cradle, and in his hand it hent*, *took<br/> +And bare it soft unto his beddes feet.<br/> +Soon after this the wife *her routing lete*, *stopped snoring*<br/> +And gan awake, and went her out to piss<br/> +And came again and gan the cradle miss<br/> +And groped here and there, but she found none.<br/> +“Alas!” quoth she, “I had almost misgone<br/> +I had almost gone to the clerkes’ bed.<br/> +Ey! Benedicite, then had I foul y-sped.”<br/> +And forth she went, till she the cradle fand.<br/> +She groped alway farther with her hand<br/> +And found the bed, and *thoughte not but good* *had no suspicion*<br/> +Because that the cradle by it stood,<br/> +And wist not where she was, for it was derk;<br/> +But fair and well she crept in by the clerk,<br/> +And lay full still, and would have caught a sleep.<br/> +Within a while this John the Clerk up leap<br/> +And on this goode wife laid on full sore;<br/> +So merry a fit had she not had *full yore*. *for a long time*<br/> +He pricked hard and deep, as he were mad. +</p> + +<p> +This jolly life have these two clerkes had,<br/> +Till that the thirde cock began to sing.<br/> +Alein wax’d weary in the morrowing,<br/> +For he had swonken* all the longe night, *laboured<br/> +And saide; “Farewell, Malkin, my sweet wight.<br/> +The day is come, I may no longer bide,<br/> +But evermore, where so I go or ride,<br/> +I is thine owen clerk, so have I hele.*” *health<br/> +“Now, deare leman*,” quoth she, “go, fare wele: *sweetheart<br/> +But ere thou go, one thing I will thee tell.<br/> +When that thou wendest homeward by the mill,<br/> +Right at the entry of the door behind<br/> +Thou shalt a cake of half a bushel find,<br/> +That was y-maked of thine owen meal,<br/> +Which that I help’d my father for to steal.<br/> +And goode leman, God thee save and keep.”<br/> +And with that word she gan almost to weep.<br/> +Alein uprose and thought, “Ere the day daw<br/> +I will go creepen in by my fellaw:”<br/> +And found the cradle with his hand anon.<br/> +“By God!” thought he, “all wrong I have misgone:<br/> +My head is *totty of my swink* to-night, *giddy from my labour*<br/> +That maketh me that I go not aright.<br/> +I wot well by the cradle I have misgo’;<br/> +Here lie the miller and his wife also.”<br/> +And forth he went a twenty devil way<br/> +Unto the bed, there as the miller lay.<br/> +He ween’d* t’ have creeped by his fellow John, *thought<br/> +And by the miller in he crept anon,<br/> +And caught him by the neck, and gan him shake,<br/> +And said; “Thou John, thou swines-head, awake<br/> +For Christes soul, and hear a noble game!<br/> +For by that lord that called is Saint Jame,<br/> +As I have thries in this shorte night<br/> +Swived the miller’s daughter bolt-upright,<br/> +While thou hast as a coward lain aghast*.” *afraid<br/> +“Thou false harlot,” quoth the miller, “hast?<br/> +Ah, false traitor, false clerk,” quoth he,<br/> +“Thou shalt be dead, by Godde’s dignity,<br/> +Who durste be so bold to disparage* *disgrace<br/> +My daughter, that is come of such lineage?”<br/> +And by the throate-ball* he caught Alein, *Adam’s apple<br/> +And he him hent* dispiteously** again, *seized **angrily<br/> +And on the nose he smote him with his fist;<br/> +Down ran the bloody stream upon his breast:<br/> +And in the floor with nose and mouth all broke<br/> +They wallow, as do two pigs in a poke.<br/> +And up they go, and down again anon,<br/> +Till that the miller spurned* on a stone, *stumbled<br/> +And down he backward fell upon his wife,<br/> +That wiste nothing of this nice strife:<br/> +For she was fall’n asleep a little wight* *while<br/> +With John the clerk, that waked had all night:<br/> +And with the fall out of her sleep she braid*. *woke<br/> +“Help, holy cross of Bromeholm,” <26> she said;<br/> +“In manus tuas! <27> Lord, to thee I call.<br/> +Awake, Simon, the fiend is on me fall;<br/> +Mine heart is broken; help; I am but dead:<br/> +There li’th one on my womb and on mine head.<br/> +Help, Simkin, for these false clerks do fight”<br/> +This John start up as fast as e’er he might,<br/> +And groped by the walles to and fro<br/> +To find a staff; and she start up also,<br/> +And knew the estres* better than this John, *apartment<br/> +And by the wall she took a staff anon:<br/> +And saw a little shimmering of a light,<br/> +For at an hole in shone the moone bright,<br/> +And by that light she saw them both the two,<br/> +But sickerly* she wist not who was who, *certainly<br/> +But as she saw a white thing in her eye.<br/> +And when she gan this white thing espy,<br/> +She ween’d* the clerk had wear’d a volupere**; *supposed **night-cap<br/> +And with the staff she drew aye nere* and nere*, *nearer<br/> +And ween’d to have hit this Alein at the full,<br/> +And smote the miller on the pilled* skull; *bald<br/> +That down he went, and cried,” Harow! I die.”<br/> +These clerkes beat him well, and let him lie,<br/> +And greithen* them, and take their horse anon, *make ready, dress<br/> +And eke their meal, and on their way they gon:<br/> +And at the mill door eke they took their cake<br/> +Of half a bushel flour, full well y-bake. +</p> + +<p> +Thus is the proude miller well y-beat,<br/> +And hath y-lost the grinding of the wheat;<br/> +And payed for the supper *every deal* *every bit<br/> +Of Alein and of John, that beat him well;<br/> +His wife is swived, and his daughter als*; *also<br/> +Lo, such it is a miller to be false.<br/> +And therefore this proverb is said full sooth,<br/> +“*Him thar not winnen well* that evil do’th, *he deserves not to gain*<br/> +A guiler shall himself beguiled be:”<br/> +And God that sitteth high in majesty<br/> +Save all this Company, both great and smale.<br/> +Thus have I quit* the Miller in my tale. *made myself quits with +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Reeve’s Tale +</p> + +<p> +1. The incidents of this tale were much relished in the Middle +Ages, and are found under various forms. Boccaccio has told +them in the ninth day of his “Decameron”. +</p> + +<p> +2. Camuse: flat; French “camuse”, snub-nosed. +</p> + +<p> +3. Gite: gown or coat; French “jupe.” +</p> + +<p> +4. Soler Hall: the hall or college at Cambridge with the gallery +or upper storey; supposed to have been Clare Hall. +(Transcribers note: later commentators identify it with King’s +Hall, now merged with Trinity College) +</p> + +<p> +5. Manciple: steward; provisioner of the hall. See also note 47 +to the prologue to the Tales. +</p> + +<p> +6. Testif: headstrong, wild-brained; French, “entete.” +</p> + +<p> +7. Strother: Tyrwhitt points to Anstruther, in Fife: Mr Wright +to the Vale of Langstroth, in the West Riding of Yorkshire. +Chaucer has given the scholars a dialect that may have belonged +to either district, although it more immediately suggests the +more northern of the two. +(Transcribers note: later commentators have identified it with a +now vanished village near Kirknewton in Northumberland. +There was a well-known Alein of Strother in Chaucer’s +lifetime.) +</p> + +<p> +8. Wanges: grinders, cheek-teeth; Anglo-Saxon, “Wang,” the +cheek; German, “Wange.” +</p> + +<p> +9. See note 1 to the Prologue to the Reeves Tale +</p> + +<p> +10. In the “Cento Novelle Antiche,” the story is told of a mule, +which pretends that his name is written on the bottom of his +hind foot. The wolf attempts to read it, the mule kills him with a +kick in the forehead; and the fox, looking on, remarks that +“every man of letters is not wise.” A similar story is told in +“Reynard the Fox.” +</p> + +<p> +11. Levesell: an arbour; Anglo-Saxon, “lefe-setl,” leafy seat. +</p> + +<p> +12. Noth: business; German, “Noth,” necessity. +</p> + +<p> +13. Bathe: both; Scottice, “baith.” +</p> + +<p> +14. Capel: horse; Gaelic, “capall;” French, “cheval;” Italian, +“cavallo,” from Latin, “caballus.” +</p> + +<p> +15. Make a clerkes beard: cheat a scholar; French, “faire la +barbe;” and Boccaccio uses the proverb in the same sense. +</p> + +<p> +16. “Gar” is Scotch for “cause;” some editions read, however, +“get us some”. +</p> + +<p> +17. Chalons: blankets, coverlets, made at Chalons in France. +</p> + +<p> +18. Crock: pitcher, cruse; Anglo-Saxon, “crocca;” German, +“krug;” hence “crockery.” +</p> + +<p> +19. Dwale: night-shade, Solanum somniferum, given to cause +sleep. +</p> + +<p> +20. Burdoun: bass; “burden” of a song. It originally means the +drone of a bagpipe; French, “bourdon.” +</p> + +<p> +21. Compline: even-song in the church service; chorus. +</p> + +<p> +22. Ferly: strange. In Scotland, a “ferlie” is an unwonted or +remarkable sight. +</p> + +<p> +23. A furlong way: As long as it might take to walk a furlong. +</p> + +<p> +24. Cockenay: a term of contempt, probably borrowed from the +kitchen; a cook, in base Latin, being termed “coquinarius.” +compare French “coquin,” rascal. +</p> + +<p> +25. Unhardy is unsely: the cowardly is unlucky; “nothing +venture, nothing have;” German, “unselig,” unhappy. +</p> + +<p> +26. Holy cross of Bromeholm: A common adjuration at that +time; the cross or rood of the priory of Bromholm, in Norfolk, +was said to contain part of the real cross and therefore held in +high esteem. +</p> + +<p> +27. In manus tuas: Latin, “in your hands”. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap08"></a>THE COOK’S TALE.</h2> + +<h3>THE PROLOGUE.</h3> + +<p> +THE Cook of London, while the Reeve thus spake,<br/> +For joy he laugh’d and clapp’d him on the back:<br/> +“Aha!” quoth he, “for Christes passion,<br/> +This Miller had a sharp conclusion,<br/> +Upon this argument of herbergage.* *lodging<br/> +Well saide Solomon in his language,<br/> +Bring thou not every man into thine house,<br/> +For harbouring by night is perilous.<br/> +*Well ought a man avised for to be* *a man should take good heed*<br/> +Whom that he brought into his privity.<br/> +I pray to God to give me sorrow and care<br/> +If ever, since I highte* Hodge of Ware, *was called<br/> +Heard I a miller better *set a-work*; *handled<br/> +He had a jape* of malice in the derk. *trick<br/> +But God forbid that we should stinte* here, *stop<br/> +And therefore if ye will vouchsafe to hear<br/> +A tale of me, that am a poore man,<br/> +I will you tell as well as e’er I can<br/> +A little jape that fell in our city.” +</p> + +<p> +Our Host answer’d and said; “I grant it thee.<br/> +Roger, tell on; and look that it be good,<br/> +For many a pasty hast thou letten blood,<br/> +And many a Jack of Dover<1> hast thou sold,<br/> +That had been twice hot and twice cold.<br/> +Of many a pilgrim hast thou Christe’s curse,<br/> +For of thy parsley yet fare they the worse.<br/> +That they have eaten in thy stubble goose:<br/> +For in thy shop doth many a fly go loose.<br/> +Now tell on, gentle Roger, by thy name,<br/> +But yet I pray thee be not *wroth for game*; *angry with my jesting*<br/> +A man may say full sooth in game and play.”<br/> +“Thou sayst full sooth,” quoth Roger, “by my fay;<br/> +But sooth play quad play,<2> as the Fleming saith,<br/> +And therefore, Harry Bailly, by thy faith,<br/> +Be thou not wroth, else we departe* here, *part company<br/> +Though that my tale be of an hostelere.* *innkeeper<br/> +But natheless, I will not tell it yet,<br/> +But ere we part, y-wis* thou shalt be quit.”<3> *assuredly<br/> +And therewithal he laugh’d and made cheer,<4><br/> +And told his tale, as ye shall after hear. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Prologue to the Cook’s Tale +</p> + +<p> +1. Jack of Dover: an article of cookery. (Transcriber’s note: +suggested by some commentators to be a kind of pie, and by +others to be a fish) +</p> + +<p> +2. Sooth play quad play: true jest is no jest. +</p> + +<p> +3. It may be remembered that each pilgrim was bound to tell +two stories; one on the way to Canterbury, the other returning. +</p> + +<p> +4. Made cheer: French, “fit bonne mine;” put on a pleasant +countenance. +</p> + +<h3>THE TALE.</h3> + +<p> +A prentice whilom dwelt in our city,<br/> +And of a craft of victuallers was he:<br/> +Galliard* he was, as goldfinch in the shaw**, *lively **grove<br/> +Brown as a berry, a proper short fellaw:<br/> +With lockes black, combed full fetisly.* *daintily<br/> +And dance he could so well and jollily,<br/> +That he was called Perkin Revellour.<br/> +He was as full of love and paramour,<br/> +As is the honeycomb of honey sweet;<br/> +Well was the wenche that with him might meet.<br/> +At every bridal would he sing and hop;<br/> +He better lov’d the tavern than the shop.<br/> +For when there any riding was in Cheap,<1><br/> +Out of the shoppe thither would he leap,<br/> +And, till that he had all the sight y-seen,<br/> +And danced well, he would not come again;<br/> +And gather’d him a meinie* of his sort, *company of fellows<br/> +To hop and sing, and make such disport:<br/> +And there they *sette steven* for to meet *made appointment*<br/> +To playen at the dice in such a street.<br/> +For in the towne was there no prentice<br/> +That fairer coulde cast a pair of dice<br/> +Than Perkin could; and thereto *he was free *he spent money liberally<br/> +Of his dispence, in place of privity.* where he would not be seen*<br/> +That found his master well in his chaffare,* *merchandise<br/> +For oftentime he found his box full bare.<br/> +For, soothely, a prentice revellour,<br/> +That haunteth dice, riot, and paramour,<br/> +His master shall it in his shop abie*, *suffer for<br/> +All* have he no part of the minstrelsy. *although<br/> +For theft and riot they be convertible,<br/> +All can they play on *gitern or ribible.* *guitar or rebeck*<br/> +Revel and truth, as in a low degree,<br/> +They be full wroth* all day, as men may see. *at variance +</p> + +<p> +This jolly prentice with his master bode,<br/> +Till he was nigh out of his prenticehood,<br/> +All were he snubbed* both early and late, *rebuked<br/> +And sometimes led with revel to Newgate.<br/> +But at the last his master him bethought,<br/> +Upon a day when he his paper<2> sought,<br/> +Of a proverb, that saith this same word;<br/> +Better is rotten apple out of hoard,<br/> +Than that it should rot all the remenant:<br/> +So fares it by a riotous servant;<br/> +It is well lesse harm to let him pace*, *pass, go<br/> +Than he shend* all the servants in the place. *corrupt<br/> +Therefore his master gave him a quittance,<br/> +And bade him go, with sorrow and mischance.<br/> +And thus this jolly prentice had his leve*: *desire<br/> +Now let him riot all the night, or leave*. *refrain<br/> +And, for there is no thief without a louke,<3><br/> +That helpeth him to wasten and to souk* *spend<br/> +Of that he bribe* can, or borrow may, *steal<br/> +Anon he sent his bed and his array<br/> +Unto a compere* of his owen sort, *comrade<br/> +That loved dice, and riot, and disport;<br/> +And had a wife, that held *for countenance* *for appearances*<br/> +A shop, and swived* for her sustenance. *prostituted herself<br/> + . . . . . . . <4> +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Cook’s Tale +</p> + +<p> +1. Cheapside, where jousts were sometimes held, and which +was the great scene of city revels and processions. +</p> + +<p> +2. His paper: his certificate of completion of his apprenticeship. +</p> + +<p> +3. Louke: The precise meaning of the word is unknown, but it +is doubtless included in the cant term “pal”. +</p> + +<p> +4. The Cook’s Tale is unfinished in all the manuscripts; but in +some, of minor authority, the Cook is made to break off his +tale, because “it is so foul,” and to tell the story of Gamelyn, on +which Shakespeare’s “As You Like It” is founded. The story is +not Chaucer’s, and is different in metre, and inferior in +composition to the Tales. It is supposed that Chaucer expunged +the Cook’s Tale for the same reason that made him on his death- +bed lament that he had written so much “ribaldry.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap09"></a>THE MAN OF LAW’S TALE.</h2> + +<h3>THE PROLOGUE.</h3> + +<p> +Our Hoste saw well that the brighte sun<br/> +Th’ arc of his artificial day had run<br/> +The fourthe part, and half an houre more;<br/> +And, though he were not deep expert in lore,<br/> +He wist it was the eight-and-twenty day<br/> +Of April, that is messenger to May;<br/> +And saw well that the shadow of every tree<br/> +Was in its length of the same quantity<br/> +That was the body erect that caused it;<br/> +And therefore by the shadow he took his wit*, *knowledge<br/> +That Phoebus, which that shone so clear and bright,<br/> +Degrees was five-and-forty clomb on height;<br/> +And for that day, as in that latitude,<br/> +It was ten of the clock, he gan conclude;<br/> +And suddenly he plight* his horse about. *pulled <1> +</p> + +<p> +“Lordings,” quoth he, “I warn you all this rout*, *company<br/> +The fourthe partie of this day is gone.<br/> +Now for the love of God and of Saint John<br/> +Lose no time, as farforth as ye may.<br/> +Lordings, the time wasteth night and day,<br/> +And steals from us, what privily sleeping,<br/> +And what through negligence in our waking,<br/> +As doth the stream, that turneth never again,<br/> +Descending from the mountain to the plain.<br/> +Well might Senec, and many a philosopher,<br/> +Bewaile time more than gold in coffer.<br/> +For loss of chattels may recover’d be,<br/> +But loss of time shendeth* us, quoth he. *destroys +</p> + +<p> +It will not come again, withoute dread,*<br/> +No more than will Malkin’s maidenhead,<2><br/> +When she hath lost it in her wantonness.<br/> +Let us not moulde thus in idleness.<br/> +“Sir Man of Law,” quoth he, “so have ye bliss,<br/> +Tell us a tale anon, as forword* is. *the bargain<br/> +Ye be submitted through your free assent<br/> +To stand in this case at my judgement.<br/> +Acquit you now, and *holde your behest*; *keep your promise*<br/> +Then have ye done your devoir* at the least.” *duty<br/> +“Hoste,” quoth he, “de par dieux jeo asente; <3><br/> +To breake forword is not mine intent.<br/> +Behest is debt, and I would hold it fain,<br/> +All my behest; I can no better sayn.<br/> +For such law as a man gives another wight,<br/> +He should himselfe usen it by right.<br/> +Thus will our text: but natheless certain<br/> +I can right now no thrifty* tale sayn, *worthy<br/> +But Chaucer (though he *can but lewedly* *knows but imperfectly*<br/> +On metres and on rhyming craftily)<br/> +Hath said them, in such English as he can,<br/> +Of olde time, as knoweth many a man.<br/> +And if he have not said them, leve* brother, *dear<br/> +In one book, he hath said them in another<br/> +For he hath told of lovers up and down,<br/> +More than Ovide made of mentioun<br/> +In his Epistolae, that be full old.<br/> +Why should I telle them, since they he told?<br/> +In youth he made of Ceyx and Alcyon,<4><br/> +And since then he hath spoke of every one<br/> +These noble wives, and these lovers eke.<br/> +Whoso that will his large volume seek<br/> +Called the Saintes’ Legend of Cupid:<5><br/> +There may he see the large woundes wide<br/> +Of Lucrece, and of Babylon Thisbe;<br/> +The sword of Dido for the false Enee;<br/> +The tree of Phillis for her Demophon;<br/> +The plaint of Diane, and of Hermion,<br/> +Of Ariadne, and Hypsipile;<br/> +The barren isle standing in the sea;<br/> +The drown’d Leander for his fair Hero;<br/> +The teares of Helene, and eke the woe<br/> +Of Briseis, and Laodamia;<br/> +The cruelty of thee, Queen Medea,<br/> +Thy little children hanging by the halse*, *neck<br/> +For thy Jason, that was of love so false.<br/> +Hypermnestra, Penelop’, Alcest’,<br/> +Your wifehood he commendeth with the best.<br/> +But certainly no worde writeth he<br/> +Of *thilke wick’* example of Canace, *that wicked*<br/> +That loved her own brother sinfully;<br/> +(Of all such cursed stories I say, Fy),<br/> +Or else of Tyrius Apollonius,<br/> +How that the cursed king Antiochus<br/> +Bereft his daughter of her maidenhead;<br/> +That is so horrible a tale to read,<br/> +When he her threw upon the pavement.<br/> +And therefore he, *of full avisement*, *deliberately, advisedly*<br/> +Would never write in none of his sermons<br/> +Of such unkind* abominations; *unnatural<br/> +Nor I will none rehearse, if that I may.<br/> +But of my tale how shall I do this day?<br/> +Me were loth to be liken’d doubteless<br/> +To Muses, that men call Pierides<6><br/> +(Metamorphoseos <7> wot what I mean),<br/> +But natheless I recke not a bean,<br/> +Though I come after him with hawebake*; *lout <8><br/> +I speak in prose, and let him rhymes make.”<br/> +And with that word, he with a sober cheer<br/> +Began his tale, and said as ye shall hear. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Prologue to The Man of Law’s Tale +</p> + +<p> +1. Plight: pulled; the word is an obsolete past tense from +“pluck.” +</p> + +<p> +2. No more than will Malkin’s maidenhead: a proverbial saying; +which, however, had obtained fresh point from the Reeve’s +Tale, to which the host doubtless refers. +</p> + +<p> +3. De par dieux jeo asente: “by God, I agree”. It is +characteristic that the somewhat pompous Sergeant of Law +should couch his assent in the semi-barbarous French, then +familiar in law procedure. +</p> + +<p> +4. Ceyx and Alcyon: Chaucer treats of these in the introduction +to the poem called “The Book of the Duchess.” It relates to the +death of Blanche, wife of John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, the +poet’s patron, and afterwards his connexion by marriage. +</p> + +<p> +5. The Saintes Legend of Cupid: Now called “The Legend of +Good Women”. The names of eight ladies mentioned here are +not in the “Legend” as it has come down to us; while those of +two ladies in the “legend” — Cleopatra and Philomela — are her +omitted. +</p> + +<p> +6. Not the Muses, who had their surname from the place near +Mount Olympus where the Thracians first worshipped them; but +the nine daughters of Pierus, king of Macedonia, whom he +called the nine Muses, and who, being conquered in a contest +with the genuine sisterhood, were changed into birds. +</p> + +<p> +7. Metamorphoseos: Ovid’s. +</p> + +<p> +8. Hawebake: hawbuck, country lout; the common proverbial +phrase, “to put a rogue above a gentleman,” may throw light on +the reading here, which is difficult. +</p> + +<h3>THE TALE. <1></h3> + +<p> +O scatheful harm, condition of poverty,<br/> +With thirst, with cold, with hunger so confounded;<br/> +To aske help thee shameth in thine hearte;<br/> +If thou none ask, so sore art thou y-wounded,<br/> +That very need unwrappeth all thy wound hid.<br/> +Maugre thine head thou must for indigence<br/> +Or steal, or beg, or borrow thy dispence*. *expense +</p> + +<p> +Thou blamest Christ, and sayst full bitterly,<br/> +He misdeparteth* riches temporal; *allots amiss<br/> +Thy neighebour thou witest* sinfully, *blamest<br/> +And sayst, thou hast too little, and he hath all:<br/> +“Parfay (sayst thou) sometime he reckon shall,<br/> +When that his tail shall *brennen in the glede*, *burn in the fire*<br/> +For he not help’d the needful in their need.” +</p> + +<p> +Hearken what is the sentence of the wise:<br/> +Better to die than to have indigence.<br/> +*Thy selve* neighebour will thee despise, *that same*<br/> +If thou be poor, farewell thy reverence.<br/> +Yet of the wise man take this sentence,<br/> +Alle the days of poore men be wick’*, *wicked, evil<br/> +Beware therefore ere thou come to that prick*. *point +</p> + +<p> +If thou be poor, thy brother hateth thee,<br/> +And all thy friendes flee from thee, alas!<br/> +O riche merchants, full of wealth be ye,<br/> +O noble, prudent folk, as in this case,<br/> +Your bagges be not fill’d with *ambes ace,* *two aces*<br/> +But with *six-cinque*, that runneth for your chance;<2> *six-five*<br/> +At Christenmass well merry may ye dance. +</p> + +<p> +Ye seeke land and sea for your winnings,<br/> +As wise folk ye knowen all th’ estate<br/> +Of regnes*; ye be fathers of tidings, *kingdoms<br/> +And tales, both of peace and of debate*: *contention, war<br/> +I were right now of tales desolate*, *barren, empty.<br/> +But that a merchant, gone in many a year,<br/> +Me taught a tale, which ye shall after hear. +</p> + +<p> +In Syria whilom dwelt a company<br/> +Of chapmen rich, and thereto sad* and true, *grave, steadfast<br/> +Clothes of gold, and satins rich of hue.<br/> +That widewhere* sent their spicery, *to distant parts<br/> +Their chaffare* was so thriftly** and so new, *wares **advantageous<br/> +That every wight had dainty* to chaffare** *pleasure **deal<br/> +With them, and eke to selle them their ware. +</p> + +<p> +Now fell it, that the masters of that sort<br/> +Have *shapen them* to Rome for to wend, *determined, prepared*<br/> +Were it for chapmanhood* or for disport, *trading<br/> +None other message would they thither send,<br/> +But come themselves to Rome, this is the end:<br/> +And in such place as thought them a vantage<br/> +For their intent, they took their herbergage.* *lodging +</p> + +<p> +Sojourned have these merchants in that town<br/> +A certain time as fell to their pleasance:<br/> +And so befell, that th’ excellent renown<br/> +Of th’ emperore’s daughter, Dame Constance,<br/> +Reported was, with every circumstance,<br/> +Unto these Syrian merchants in such wise,<br/> +From day to day, as I shall you devise* *relate +</p> + +<p> +This was the common voice of every man<br/> +“Our emperor of Rome, God him see*, *look on with favour<br/> +A daughter hath, that since the the world began,<br/> +To reckon as well her goodness and beauty,<br/> +Was never such another as is she:<br/> +I pray to God in honour her sustene*, *sustain<br/> +And would she were of all Europe the queen. +</p> + +<p> +“In her is highe beauty without pride,<br/> +And youth withoute greenhood* or folly: *childishness, immaturity<br/> +To all her workes virtue is her guide;<br/> +Humbless hath slain in her all tyranny:<br/> +She is the mirror of all courtesy,<br/> +Her heart a very chamber of holiness,<br/> +Her hand minister of freedom for almess*.” *almsgiving +</p> + +<p> +And all this voice was sooth, as God is true;<br/> +But now to purpose* let us turn again. *our tale <3><br/> +These merchants have done freight their shippes new,<br/> +And when they have this blissful maiden seen,<br/> +Home to Syria then they went full fain,<br/> +And did their needes*, as they have done yore,* *business **formerly<br/> +And liv’d in weal*; I can you say no more. *prosperity +</p> + +<p> +Now fell it, that these merchants stood in grace* *favour<br/> +Of him that was the Soudan* of Syrie: *Sultan<br/> +For when they came from any strange place<br/> +He would of his benigne courtesy<br/> +Make them good cheer, and busily espy* *inquire<br/> +Tidings of sundry regnes*, for to lear** *realms **learn<br/> +The wonders that they mighte see or hear. +</p> + +<p> +Amonges other thinges, specially<br/> +These merchants have him told of Dame Constance<br/> +So great nobless, in earnest so royally,<br/> +That this Soudan hath caught so great pleasance* *pleasure<br/> +To have her figure in his remembrance,<br/> +That all his lust*, and all his busy cure**, *pleasure **care<br/> +Was for to love her while his life may dure. +</p> + +<p> +Paraventure in thilke* large book, *that<br/> +Which that men call the heaven, y-written was<br/> +With starres, when that he his birthe took,<br/> +That he for love should have his death, alas!<br/> +For in the starres, clearer than is glass,<br/> +Is written, God wot, whoso could it read,<br/> +The death of every man withoute dread.* *doubt +</p> + +<p> +In starres many a winter therebeforn<br/> +Was writ the death of Hector, Achilles,<br/> +Of Pompey, Julius, ere they were born;<br/> +The strife of Thebes; and of Hercules,<br/> +Of Samson, Turnus, and of Socrates<br/> +The death; but mennes wittes be so dull,<br/> +That no wight can well read it at the full. +</p> + +<p> +This Soudan for his privy council sent,<br/> +And, *shortly of this matter for to pace*, *to pass briefly by*<br/> +He hath to them declared his intent,<br/> +And told them certain, but* he might have grace *unless<br/> +To have Constance, within a little space,<br/> +He was but dead; and charged them in hie* *haste<br/> +To shape* for his life some remedy. *contrive +</p> + +<p> +Diverse men diverse thinges said;<br/> +And arguments they casten up and down;<br/> +Many a subtle reason forth they laid;<br/> +They speak of magic, and abusion*; *deception<br/> +But finally, as in conclusion,<br/> +They cannot see in that none avantage,<br/> +Nor in no other way, save marriage. +</p> + +<p> +Then saw they therein such difficulty<br/> +By way of reason, for to speak all plain,<br/> +Because that there was such diversity<br/> +Between their bothe lawes, that they sayn,<br/> +They trowe* that no Christian prince would fain** *believe **willingly<br/> +Wedden his child under our lawe sweet,<br/> +That us was given by Mahound* our prophete. *Mahomet +</p> + +<p> +And he answered: “Rather than I lose<br/> +Constance, I will be christen’d doubteless<br/> +I must be hers, I may none other choose,<br/> +I pray you hold your arguments in peace,<4><br/> +Save my life, and be not reckeless<br/> +To gette her that hath my life in cure,* *keeping<br/> +For in this woe I may not long endure.” +</p> + +<p> +What needeth greater dilatation?<br/> +I say, by treaty and ambassadry,<br/> +And by the Pope’s mediation,<br/> +And all the Church, and all the chivalry,<br/> +That in destruction of Mah’metry,* *Mahometanism<br/> +And in increase of Christe’s lawe dear,<br/> +They be accorded* so as ye may hear; *agreed +</p> + +<p> +How that the Soudan, and his baronage,<br/> +And all his lieges, shall y-christen’d be,<br/> +And he shall have Constance in marriage,<br/> +And certain gold, I n’ot* what quantity, *know not<br/> +And hereto find they suffisant surety.<br/> +The same accord is sworn on either side;<br/> +Now, fair Constance, Almighty God thee guide! +</p> + +<p> +Now woulde some men waiten, as I guess,<br/> +That I should tellen all the purveyance*, *provision<br/> +The which the emperor of his noblesse<br/> +Hath shapen* for his daughter, Dame Constance. *prepared<br/> +Well may men know that so great ordinance<br/> +May no man tellen in a little clause,<br/> +As was arrayed for so high a cause. +</p> + +<p> +Bishops be shapen with her for to wend,<br/> +Lordes, ladies, and knightes of renown,<br/> +And other folk enough, this is the end.<br/> +And notified is throughout all the town,<br/> +That every wight with great devotioun<br/> +Should pray to Christ, that he this marriage<br/> +Receive *in gree*, and speede this voyage. *with good will, favour* +</p> + +<p> +The day is comen of her departing, —<br/> +I say the woful fatal day is come,<br/> +That there may be no longer tarrying,<br/> +But forward they them dressen* all and some. *prepare to set out*<br/> +Constance, that was with sorrow all o’ercome,<br/> +Full pale arose, and dressed her to wend,<br/> +For well she saw there was no other end. +</p> + +<p> +Alas! what wonder is it though she wept,<br/> +That shall be sent to a strange nation<br/> +From friendes, that so tenderly her kept,<br/> +And to be bound under subjection<br/> +of one, she knew not his condition?<br/> +Husbands be all good, and have been *of yore*, *of old*<br/> +That knowe wives; I dare say no more. +</p> + +<p> +“Father,” she said, “thy wretched child Constance,<br/> +Thy younge daughter, foster’d up so soft,<br/> +And you, my mother, my sov’reign pleasance<br/> +Over all thing, out-taken* Christ *on loft*, *except *on high*<br/> +Constance your child her recommendeth oft<br/> +Unto your grace; for I shall to Syrie,<br/> +Nor shall I ever see you more with eye. +</p> + +<p> +“Alas! unto the barbarous nation<br/> +I must anon, since that it is your will:<br/> +But Christ, that starf* for our redemption, *died<br/> +So give me grace his hestes* to fulfil. *commands<br/> +I, wretched woman, *no force though I spill!* *no matter though<br/> +Women are born to thraldom and penance, I perish*<br/> +And to be under mannes governance.” +</p> + +<p> +I trow at Troy when Pyrrhus brake the wall,<br/> +Or Ilion burnt, or Thebes the city,<br/> +Nor at Rome for the harm through Hannibal,<br/> +That Romans hath y-vanquish’d times three,<br/> +Was heard such tender weeping for pity,<br/> +As in the chamber was for her parting;<br/> +But forth she must, whether she weep or sing. +</p> + +<p> +O firste moving cruel Firmament,<5><br/> +With thy diurnal sway that crowdest* aye, *pushest together, drivest<br/> +And hurtlest all from East till Occident<br/> +That naturally would hold another way;<br/> +Thy crowding set the heav’n in such array<br/> +At the beginning of this fierce voyage,<br/> +That cruel Mars hath slain this marriage. +</p> + +<p> +Unfortunate ascendant tortuous,<br/> +Of which the lord is helpless fall’n, alas!<br/> +Out of his angle into the darkest house;<br/> +O Mars, O Atyzar,<6> as in this case;<br/> +O feeble Moon, unhappy is thy pace.* *progress<br/> +Thou knittest thee where thou art not receiv’d,<br/> +Where thou wert well, from thennes art thou weiv’d. <7> +</p> + +<p> +Imprudent emperor of Rome, alas!<br/> +Was there no philosopher in all thy town?<br/> +Is no time bet* than other in such case? *better<br/> +Of voyage is there none election,<br/> +Namely* to folk of high condition, *especially<br/> +Not *when a root is of a birth y-know?* *when the nativity is known*<br/> +Alas! we be too lewed*, or too slow. *ignorant +</p> + +<p> +To ship was brought this woeful faire maid<br/> +Solemnely, with every circumstance:<br/> +“Now Jesus Christ be with you all,” she said.<br/> +There is no more,but “Farewell, fair Constance.”<br/> +She *pained her* to make good countenance. *made an effort*<br/> +And forth I let her sail in this manner,<br/> +And turn I will again to my matter. +</p> + +<p> +The mother of the Soudan, well of vices,<br/> +Espied hath her sone’s plain intent,<br/> +How he will leave his olde sacrifices:<br/> +And right anon she for her council sent,<br/> +And they be come, to knowe what she meant,<br/> +And when assembled was this folk *in fere*, *together*<br/> +She sat her down, and said as ye shall hear. +</p> + +<p> +“Lordes,” she said, “ye knowen every one,<br/> +How that my son in point is for to lete* *forsake<br/> +The holy lawes of our Alkaron*, *Koran<br/> +Given by God’s messenger Mahomete:<br/> +But one avow to greate God I hete*, *promise<br/> +Life shall rather out of my body start,<br/> +Than Mahomet’s law go out of mine heart. +</p> + +<p> +“What should us tiden* of this newe law, *betide, befall<br/> +But thraldom to our bodies, and penance,<br/> +And afterward in hell to be y-draw,<br/> +For we *renied Mahound our creance?* *denied Mahomet our belief*<br/> +But, lordes, will ye maken assurance,<br/> +As I shall say, assenting to my lore*? *advice<br/> +And I shall make us safe for evermore.” +</p> + +<p> +They sworen and assented every man<br/> +To live with her and die, and by her stand:<br/> +And every one, in the best wise he can,<br/> +To strengthen her shall all his friendes fand.* *endeavour<8><br/> +And she hath this emprise taken in hand,<br/> +Which ye shall heare that I shall devise*; *relate<br/> +And to them all she spake right in this wise. +</p> + +<p> +“We shall first feign us *Christendom to take*; *embrace Christianity*<br/> +Cold water shall not grieve us but a lite*: *little<br/> +And I shall such a feast and revel make,<br/> +That, as I trow, I shall the Soudan quite.* *requite, match<br/> +For though his wife be christen’d ne’er so white,<br/> +She shall have need to wash away the red,<br/> +Though she a fount of water with her led.” +</p> + +<p> +O Soudaness*, root of iniquity, *Sultaness<br/> +Virago thou, Semiramis the second!<br/> +O serpent under femininity,<br/> +Like to the serpent deep in hell y-bound!<br/> +O feigned woman, all that may confound<br/> +Virtue and innocence, through thy malice,<br/> +Is bred in thee, as nest of every vice! +</p> + +<p> +O Satan envious! since thilke day<br/> +That thou wert chased from our heritage,<br/> +Well knowest thou to woman th’ olde way.<br/> +Thou madest Eve to bring us in servage*: *bondage<br/> +Thou wilt fordo* this Christian marriage: *ruin<br/> +Thine instrument so (well-away the while!)<br/> +Mak’st thou of women when thou wilt beguile. +</p> + +<p> +This Soudaness, whom I thus blame and warray*, *oppose, censure<br/> +Let privily her council go their way:<br/> +Why should I in this tale longer tarry?<br/> +She rode unto the Soudan on a day,<br/> +And said him, that she would *reny her lay,* *renounce her creed*<br/> +And Christendom of priestes’ handes fong*, *take<9><br/> +Repenting her she heathen was so long; +</p> + +<p> +Beseeching him to do her that honour,<br/> +That she might have the Christian folk to feast:<br/> +“To please them I will do my labour.”<br/> +The Soudan said, “I will do at your hest,*” *desire<br/> +And kneeling, thanked her for that request;<br/> +So glad he was, he wist* not what to say. *knew<br/> +She kiss’d her son, and home she went her way. +</p> + +<p> +Arrived be these Christian folk to land<br/> +In Syria, with a great solemne rout,<br/> +And hastily this Soudan sent his sond,* *message<br/> +First to his mother, and all the realm about,<br/> +And said, his wife was comen out of doubt,<br/> +And pray’d them for to ride again* the queen, *to meet<br/> +The honour of his regne* to sustene. *realm +</p> + +<p> +Great was the press, and rich was the array<br/> +Of Syrians and Romans met *in fere*. *in company*<br/> +The mother of the Soudan rich and gay<br/> +Received her with all so glad a cheer* *face<br/> +As any mother might her daughter dear<br/> +And to the nexte city there beside<br/> +A softe pace solemnely they ride. +</p> + +<p> +Nought, trow I, the triumph of Julius<br/> +Of which that Lucan maketh such a boast,<br/> +Was royaller, or more curious,<br/> +Than was th’ assembly of this blissful host<br/> +But O this scorpion, this wicked ghost,* *spirit<br/> +The Soudaness, for all her flattering<br/> +Cast* under this full mortally to sting. *contrived +</p> + +<p> +The Soudan came himself soon after this,<br/> +So royally, that wonder is to tell,<br/> +And welcomed her with all joy and bliss.<br/> +And thus in mirth and joy I let them dwell.<br/> +The fruit of his matter is that I tell;<br/> +When the time came, men thought it for the best<br/> +That revel stint,* and men go to their rest. *cease +</p> + +<p> +The time is come that this old Soudaness<br/> +Ordained hath the feast of which I told,<br/> +And to the feast the Christian folk them dress<br/> +In general, yea, bothe young and old.<br/> +There may men feast and royalty behold,<br/> +And dainties more than I can you devise;<br/> +But all too dear they bought it ere they rise. +</p> + +<p> +O sudden woe, that ev’r art successour<br/> +To worldly bliss! sprent* is with bitterness *sprinkled<br/> +Th’ end of our joy, of our worldly labour;<br/> +Woe *occupies the fine* of our gladness. *seizes the end*<br/> +Hearken this counsel, for thy sickerness*: *security<br/> +Upon thy glade days have in thy mind<br/> +The unware* woe of harm, that comes behind. *unforeseen +</p> + +<p> +For, shortly for to tell it at a word,<br/> +The Soudan and the Christians every one<br/> +Were all *to-hewn and sticked* at the board, *cut to pieces*<br/> +But it were only Dame Constance alone.<br/> +This olde Soudaness, this cursed crone,<br/> +Had with her friendes done this cursed deed,<br/> +For she herself would all the country lead. +</p> + +<p> +Nor there was Syrian that was converted,<br/> +That of the counsel of the Soudan wot*, *knew<br/> +That was not all to-hewn, ere he asterted*: *escaped<br/> +And Constance have they ta’en anon foot-hot*, *immediately<br/> +And in a ship all steereless,* God wot, *without rudder<br/> +They have her set, and bid her learn to sail<br/> +Out of Syria *again-ward to Itale.* *back to Italy* +</p> + +<p> +A certain treasure that she thither lad,* *took<br/> +And, sooth to say, of victual great plenty,<br/> +They have her giv’n, and clothes eke she had<br/> +And forth she sailed in the salte sea:<br/> +O my Constance, full of benignity,<br/> +O emperores younge daughter dear,<br/> +He that is lord of fortune be thy steer*! *rudder, guide +</p> + +<p> +She bless’d herself, and with full piteous voice<br/> +Unto the cross of Christ thus saide she;<br/> +“O dear, O wealful* altar, holy cross, *blessed, beneficent<br/> +Red of the Lambes blood, full of pity,<br/> +That wash’d the world from old iniquity,<br/> +Me from the fiend and from his clawes keep,<br/> +That day that I shall drenchen* in the deepe. *drown +</p> + +<p> +“Victorious tree, protection of the true,<br/> +That only worthy were for to bear<br/> +The King of Heaven, with his woundes new,<br/> +The white Lamb, that hurt was with a spear;<br/> +Flemer* of fiendes out of him and her *banisher, driver out<br/> +On which thy limbes faithfully extend,<10><br/> +Me keep, and give me might my life to mend.” +</p> + +<p> +Yeares and days floated this creature<br/> +Throughout the sea of Greece, unto the strait<br/> +Of Maroc*, as it was her a venture: *Morocco; Gibraltar<br/> +On many a sorry meal now may she bait,<br/> +After her death full often may she wait*, *expect<br/> +Ere that the wilde waves will her drive<br/> +Unto the place *there as* she shall arrive. *where +</p> + +<p> +Men mighten aske, why she was not slain?<br/> +Eke at the feast who might her body save?<br/> +And I answer to that demand again,<br/> +Who saved Daniel in the horrible cave,<br/> +Where every wight, save he, master or knave*, *servant<br/> +Was with the lion frett*, ere he astart?** *devoured ** escaped<br/> +No wight but God, that he bare in his heart. +</p> + +<p> +God list* to shew his wonderful miracle *it pleased<br/> +In her, that we should see his mighty workes:<br/> +Christ, which that is to every harm triacle*, *remedy, salve<br/> +By certain meanes oft, as knowe clerkes*, *scholars<br/> +Doth thing for certain ende, that full derk is<br/> +To manne’s wit, that for our, ignorance<br/> +Ne cannot know his prudent purveyance*. *foresight +</p> + +<p> +Now since she was not at the feast y-slaw,* *slain<br/> +Who kepte her from drowning in the sea?<br/> +Who kepte Jonas in the fish’s maw,<br/> +Till he was spouted up at Nineveh?<br/> +Well may men know, it was no wight but he<br/> +That kept the Hebrew people from drowning,<br/> +With drye feet throughout the sea passing. +</p> + +<p> +Who bade the foure spirits of tempest,<11><br/> +That power have t’ annoye land and sea,<br/> +Both north and south, and also west and east,<br/> +Annoye neither sea, nor land, nor tree?<br/> +Soothly the commander of that was he<br/> +That from the tempest aye this woman kept,<br/> +As well when she awoke as when she slept. +</p> + +<p> +Where might this woman meat and drinke have?<br/> +Three year and more how lasted her vitaille*? *victuals<br/> +Who fed the Egyptian Mary in the cave<br/> +Or in desert? no wight but Christ *sans faille.* *without fail*<br/> +Five thousand folk it was as great marvaille<br/> +With loaves five and fishes two to feed<br/> +God sent his foison* at her greate need. *abundance +</p> + +<p> +She drived forth into our ocean<br/> +Throughout our wilde sea, till at the last<br/> +Under an hold*, that nempnen** I not can, *castle **name<br/> +Far in Northumberland, the wave her cast<br/> +And in the sand her ship sticked so fast<br/> +That thennes would it not in all a tide: <12><br/> +The will of Christ was that she should abide. +</p> + +<p> +The Constable of the castle down did fare* *go<br/> +To see this wreck, and all the ship he sought*, *searched<br/> +And found this weary woman full of care;<br/> +He found also the treasure that she brought:<br/> +In her language mercy she besought,<br/> +The life out of her body for to twin*, *divide<br/> +Her to deliver of woe that she was in. +</p> + +<p> +A manner Latin corrupt <13> was her speech,<br/> +But algate* thereby was she understond. *nevertheless<br/> +The Constable, when him list no longer seech*, *search<br/> +This woeful woman brought he to the lond.<br/> +She kneeled down, and thanked *Godde’s sond*; *what God had sent*<br/> +But what she was she would to no man say<br/> +For foul nor fair, although that she should dey.* *die +</p> + +<p> +She said, she was so mazed in the sea,<br/> +That she forgot her minde, by her truth.<br/> +The Constable had of her so great pity<br/> +And eke his wife, that they wept for ruth:* *pity<br/> +She was so diligent withoute slouth<br/> +To serve and please every one in that place,<br/> +That all her lov’d, that looked in her face. +</p> + +<p> +The Constable and Dame Hermegild his wife<br/> +Were Pagans, and that country every where;<br/> +But Hermegild lov’d Constance as her life;<br/> +And Constance had so long sojourned there<br/> +In orisons, with many a bitter tear,<br/> +Till Jesus had converted through His grace<br/> +Dame Hermegild, Constabless of that place. +</p> + +<p> +In all that land no Christians durste rout;* *assemble<br/> +All Christian folk had fled from that country<br/> +Through Pagans, that conquered all about<br/> +The plages* of the North by land and sea. *regions, coasts<br/> +To Wales had fled the *Christianity *the Old Britons who<br/> +Of olde Britons,* dwelling in this isle; were Christians*<br/> +There was their refuge for the meanewhile. +</p> + +<p> +But yet n’ere* Christian Britons so exiled, *there were<br/> +That there n’ere* some which in their privity not<br/> +Honoured Christ, and heathen folk beguiled;<br/> +And nigh the castle such there dwelled three:<br/> +And one of them was blind, and might not see,<br/> +But* it were with thilk* eyen of his mind, *except **those<br/> +With which men maye see when they be blind. +</p> + +<p> +Bright was the sun, as in a summer’s day,<br/> +For which the Constable, and his wife also,<br/> +And Constance, have y-take the righte way<br/> +Toward the sea a furlong way or two,<br/> +To playen, and to roame to and fro;<br/> +And in their walk this blinde man they met,<br/> +Crooked and old, with eyen fast y-shet.* *shut +</p> + +<p> +“In the name of Christ,” cried this blind Briton,<br/> +“Dame Hermegild, give me my sight again!”<br/> +This lady *wax’d afrayed of that soun’,* *was alarmed by that cry*<br/> +Lest that her husband, shortly for to sayn,<br/> +Would her for Jesus Christe’s love have slain,<br/> +Till Constance made her hold, and bade her wirch* *work<br/> +The will of Christ, as daughter of holy Church +</p> + +<p> +The Constable wax’d abashed* of that sight, *astonished<br/> +And saide; *“What amounteth all this fare?”* *what means all<br/> +Constance answered; “Sir, it is Christ’s might, this ado?*<br/> +That helpeth folk out of the fiendes snare:”<br/> +And *so farforth* she gan our law declare, *with such effect*<br/> +That she the Constable, ere that it were eve,<br/> +Converted, and on Christ made him believe. +</p> + +<p> +This Constable was not lord of the place<br/> +Of which I speak, there as he Constance fand,* *found<br/> +But kept it strongly many a winter space,<br/> +Under Alla, king of Northumberland,<br/> +That was full wise, and worthy of his hand<br/> +Against the Scotes, as men may well hear;<br/> +But turn I will again to my mattere. +</p> + +<p> +Satan, that ever us waiteth to beguile,<br/> +Saw of Constance all her perfectioun,<br/> +And *cast anon how he might quite her while;* *considered how to have<br/> +And made a young knight, that dwelt in that town, revenge on her*<br/> +Love her so hot of foul affectioun,<br/> +That verily him thought that he should spill* *perish<br/> +But* he of her might ones have his will. *unless +</p> + +<p> +He wooed her, but it availed nought;<br/> +She woulde do no sinne by no way:<br/> +And for despite, he compassed his thought<br/> +To make her a shameful death to dey;* *die<br/> +He waiteth when the Constable is away,<br/> +And privily upon a night he crept<br/> +In Hermegilda’s chamber while she slept. +</p> + +<p> +Weary, forwaked* in her orisons, *having been long awake<br/> +Sleepeth Constance, and Hermegild also.<br/> +This knight, through Satanas’ temptation;<br/> +All softetly is to the bed y-go,* *gone<br/> +And cut the throat of Hermegild in two,<br/> +And laid the bloody knife by Dame Constance,<br/> +And went his way, there God give him mischance. +</p> + +<p> +Soon after came the Constable home again,<br/> +And eke Alla that king was of that land,<br/> +And saw his wife dispiteously* slain, *cruelly<br/> +For which full oft he wept and wrung his hand;<br/> +And ill the bed the bloody knife he fand<br/> +By Dame Constance: Alas! what might she say?<br/> +For very woe her wit was all away. +</p> + +<p> +To King Alla was told all this mischance<br/> +And eke the time, and where, and in what wise<br/> +That in a ship was founden this Constance,<br/> +As here before ye have me heard devise:* *describe<br/> +The kinges heart for pity *gan agrise,* *to be grieved, to tremble*<br/> +When he saw so benign a creature<br/> +Fall in disease* and in misaventure. *distress +</p> + +<p> +For as the lamb toward his death is brought,<br/> +So stood this innocent before the king:<br/> +This false knight, that had this treason wrought,<br/> +*Bore her in hand* that she had done this thing: *accused her falsely*<br/> +But natheless there was great murmuring<br/> +Among the people, that say they cannot guess<br/> +That she had done so great a wickedness. +</p> + +<p> +For they had seen her ever virtuous,<br/> +And loving Hermegild right as her life:<br/> +Of this bare witness each one in that house,<br/> +Save he that Hermegild slew with his knife:<br/> +This gentle king had *caught a great motife* *been greatly moved<br/> +Of this witness, and thought he would inquere by the evidence*<br/> +Deeper into this case, the truth to lear.* *learn +</p> + +<p> +Alas! Constance, thou has no champion,<br/> +Nor fighte canst thou not, so well-away!<br/> +But he that starf for our redemption, *died<br/> +And bound Satan, and yet li’th where he lay,<br/> +So be thy stronge champion this day:<br/> +For, but Christ upon thee miracle kithe,* *show<br/> +Withoute guilt thou shalt be slain *as swithe.* *immediately* +</p> + +<p> +She set her down on knees, and thus she said;<br/> +“Immortal God, that savedest Susanne<br/> +From false blame; and thou merciful maid,<br/> +Mary I mean, the daughter to Saint Anne,<br/> +Before whose child the angels sing Osanne,* *Hosanna<br/> +If I be guiltless of this felony,<br/> +My succour be, or elles shall I die.” +</p> + +<p> +Have ye not seen sometime a pale face<br/> +(Among a press) of him that hath been lad* *led<br/> +Toward his death, where he getteth no grace,<br/> +And such a colour in his face hath had,<br/> +Men mighte know him that was so bestad* *bested, situated<br/> +Amonges all the faces in that rout?<br/> +So stood Constance, and looked her about. +</p> + +<p> +O queenes living in prosperity,<br/> +Duchesses, and ye ladies every one,<br/> +Have some ruth* on her adversity! *pity<br/> +An emperor’s daughter, she stood alone;<br/> +She had no wight to whom to make her moan.<br/> +O blood royal, that standest in this drede,* *danger<br/> +Far be thy friendes in thy greate need! +</p> + +<p> +This king Alla had such compassioun,<br/> +As gentle heart is full filled of pity,<br/> +That from his eyen ran the water down<br/> +“Now hastily do fetch a book,” quoth he;<br/> +“And if this knight will sweare, how that she<br/> +This woman slew, yet will we us advise* *consider<br/> +Whom that we will that shall be our justice.” +</p> + +<p> +A Briton book, written with Evangiles,* *the Gospels<br/> +Was fetched, and on this book he swore anon<br/> +She guilty was; and, in the meanewhiles,<br/> +An hand him smote upon the necke bone,<br/> +That down he fell at once right as a stone:<br/> +And both his eyen burst out of his face<br/> +In sight of ev’rybody in that place. +</p> + +<p> +A voice was heard, in general audience,<br/> +That said; “Thou hast deslander’d guilteless<br/> +The daughter of holy Church in high presence;<br/> +Thus hast thou done, and yet *hold I my peace?”* *shall I be silent?*<br/> +Of this marvel aghast was all the press,<br/> +As mazed folk they stood every one<br/> +For dread of wreake,* save Constance alone. *vengeance +</p> + +<p> +Great was the dread and eke the repentance<br/> +Of them that hadde wrong suspicion<br/> +Upon this sely* innocent Constance; *simple, harmless<br/> +And for this miracle, in conclusion,<br/> +And by Constance’s mediation,<br/> +The king, and many another in that place,<br/> +Converted was, thanked be Christe’s grace! +</p> + +<p> +This false knight was slain for his untruth<br/> +By judgement of Alla hastily;<br/> +And yet Constance had of his death great ruth;* *compassion<br/> +And after this Jesus of his mercy<br/> +Made Alla wedde full solemnely<br/> +This holy woman, that is so bright and sheen,<br/> +And thus hath Christ y-made Constance a queen. +</p> + +<p> +But who was woeful, if I shall not lie,<br/> +Of this wedding but Donegild, and no mo’,<br/> +The kinge’s mother, full of tyranny?<br/> +Her thought her cursed heart would burst in two;<br/> +She would not that her son had done so;<br/> +Her thought it a despite that he should take<br/> +So strange a creature unto his make.* *mate, consort +</p> + +<p> +Me list not of the chaff nor of the stre* *straw<br/> +Make so long a tale, as of the corn.<br/> +What should I tellen of the royalty<br/> +Of this marriage, or which course goes beforn,<br/> +Who bloweth in a trump or in an horn?<br/> +The fruit of every tale is for to say;<br/> +They eat and drink, and dance, and sing, and play. +</p> + +<p> +They go to bed, as it was skill* and right; *reasonable<br/> +For though that wives be full holy things,<br/> +They muste take in patience at night<br/> +Such manner* necessaries as be pleasings *kind of<br/> +To folk that have y-wedded them with rings,<br/> +And lay *a lite* their holiness aside *a little of*<br/> +As for the time, it may no better betide. +</p> + +<p> +On her he got a knave* child anon, *male <14><br/> +And to a Bishop and to his Constable eke<br/> +He took his wife to keep, when he is gone<br/> +To Scotland-ward, his foemen for to seek.<br/> +Now fair Constance, that is so humble and meek,<br/> +So long is gone with childe till that still<br/> +She held her chamb’r, abiding Christe’s will +</p> + +<p> +The time is come, a knave child she bare;<br/> +Mauricius at the font-stone they him call.<br/> +This Constable *doth forth come* a messenger, *caused to come forth*<br/> +And wrote unto his king that clep’d was All’,<br/> +How that this blissful tiding is befall,<br/> +And other tidings speedful for to say<br/> +He* hath the letter, and forth he go’th his way. *i.e. the messenger +</p> + +<p> +This messenger, to *do his avantage,* *promote his own interest*<br/> +Unto the kinge’s mother rideth swithe,* *swiftly<br/> +And saluteth her full fair in his language.<br/> +“Madame,” quoth he, “ye may be glad and blithe,<br/> +And thanke God an hundred thousand sithe;* *times<br/> +My lady queen hath child, withoute doubt,<br/> +To joy and bliss of all this realm about. +</p> + +<p> +“Lo, here the letter sealed of this thing,<br/> +That I must bear with all the haste I may:<br/> +If ye will aught unto your son the king,<br/> +I am your servant both by night and day.”<br/> +Donegild answer’d, “As now at this time, nay;<br/> +But here I will all night thou take thy rest,<br/> +To-morrow will I say thee what me lest.*” *pleases +</p> + +<p> +This messenger drank sadly* ale and wine, *steadily<br/> +And stolen were his letters privily<br/> +Out of his box, while he slept as a swine;<br/> +And counterfeited was full subtilly<br/> +Another letter, wrote full sinfully,<br/> +Unto the king, direct of this mattere<br/> +From his Constable, as ye shall after hear. +</p> + +<p> +This letter said, the queen deliver’d was<br/> +Of so horrible a fiendlike creature,<br/> +That in the castle none so hardy* was *brave<br/> +That any while he durst therein endure:<br/> +The mother was an elf by aventure<br/> +Become, by charmes or by sorcery,<br/> +And every man hated her company. +</p> + +<p> +Woe was this king when he this letter had seen,<br/> +But to no wight he told his sorrows sore,<br/> +But with his owen hand he wrote again,<br/> +“Welcome the sond* of Christ for evermore *will, sending<br/> +To me, that am now learned in this lore:<br/> +Lord, welcome be thy lust* and thy pleasance, *will, pleasure<br/> +My lust I put all in thine ordinance. +</p> + +<p> +“Keepe* this child, albeit foul or fair, *preserve<br/> +And eke my wife, unto mine homecoming:<br/> +Christ when him list may send to me an heir<br/> +More agreeable than this to my liking.”<br/> +This letter he sealed, privily weeping.<br/> +Which to the messenger was taken soon,<br/> +And forth he went, there is no more to do’n.* *do +</p> + +<p> +O messenger full fill’d of drunkenness,<br/> +Strong is thy breath, thy limbes falter aye,<br/> +And thou betrayest alle secretness;<br/> +Thy mind is lorn,* thou janglest as a jay; *lost<br/> +Thy face is turned in a new array;* *aspect<br/> +Where drunkenness reigneth in any rout,* *company<br/> +There is no counsel hid, withoute doubt. +</p> + +<p> +O Donegild, I have no English dign* *worthy<br/> +Unto thy malice, and thy tyranny:<br/> +And therefore to the fiend I thee resign,<br/> +Let him indite of all thy treachery<br/> +‘Fy, mannish,* fy! O nay, by God I lie; *unwomanly woman<br/> +Fy, fiendlike spirit! for I dare well tell,<br/> +Though thou here walk, thy spirit is in hell. +</p> + +<p> +This messenger came from the king again,<br/> +And at the kinge’s mother’s court he light,* *alighted<br/> +And she was of this messenger full fain,* *glad<br/> +And pleased him in all that e’er she might.<br/> +He drank, and *well his girdle underpight*; *stowed away (liquor)<br/> +He slept, and eke he snored in his guise under his girdle*<br/> +All night, until the sun began to rise. +</p> + +<p> +Eft* were his letters stolen every one, *again<br/> +And counterfeited letters in this wise:<br/> +The king commanded his Constable anon,<br/> +On pain of hanging and of high jewise,* *judgement<br/> +That he should suffer in no manner wise<br/> +Constance within his regne* for to abide *kingdom<br/> +Three dayes, and a quarter of a tide; +</p> + +<p> +But in the same ship as he her fand,<br/> +Her and her younge son, and all her gear,<br/> +He shoulde put, and crowd* her from the land, *push<br/> +And charge her, that she never eft come there.<br/> +O my Constance, well may thy ghost* have fear, *spirit<br/> +And sleeping in thy dream be in penance,* *pain, trouble<br/> +When Donegild cast* all this ordinance.** *contrived **plan, plot +</p> + +<p> +This messenger, on morrow when he woke,<br/> +Unto the castle held the nexte* way, *nearest<br/> +And to the constable the letter took;<br/> +And when he this dispiteous* letter sey,** *cruel **saw<br/> +Full oft he said, “Alas, and well-away!<br/> +Lord Christ,” quoth he, “how may this world endure?<br/> +So full of sin is many a creature. +</p> + +<p> +“O mighty God, if that it be thy will,<br/> +Since thou art rightful judge, how may it be<br/> +That thou wilt suffer innocence to spill,* *be destroyed<br/> +And wicked folk reign in prosperity?<br/> +Ah! good Constance, alas! so woe is me,<br/> +That I must be thy tormentor, or dey* *die<br/> +A shameful death, there is no other way. +</p> + +<p> +Wept bothe young and old in all that place,<br/> +When that the king this cursed letter sent;<br/> +And Constance, with a deadly pale face,<br/> +The fourthe day toward her ship she went.<br/> +But natheless she took in good intent<br/> +The will of Christ, and kneeling on the strond* *strand, shore<br/> +She saide, “Lord, aye welcome be thy sond* *whatever thou sendest +</p> + +<p> +“He that me kepte from the false blame,<br/> +While I was in the land amonges you,<br/> +He can me keep from harm and eke from shame<br/> +In the salt sea, although I see not how<br/> +As strong as ever he was, he is yet now,<br/> +In him trust I, and in his mother dere,<br/> +That is to me my sail and eke my stere.”* *rudder, guide +</p> + +<p> +Her little child lay weeping in her arm<br/> +And, kneeling, piteously to him she said<br/> +“Peace, little son, I will do thee no harm:”<br/> +With that her kerchief off her head she braid,* *took, drew<br/> +And over his little eyen she it laid,<br/> +And in her arm she lulled it full fast,<br/> +And unto heav’n her eyen up she cast. +</p> + +<p> +“Mother,” quoth she, “and maiden bright, Mary,<br/> +Sooth is, that through a woman’s eggement* *incitement, egging on<br/> +Mankind was lorn,* and damned aye to die; *lost<br/> +For which thy child was on a cross y-rent:* *torn, pierced<br/> +Thy blissful eyen saw all his torment,<br/> +Then is there no comparison between<br/> +Thy woe, and any woe man may sustene. +</p> + +<p> +“Thou saw’st thy child y-slain before thine eyen,<br/> +And yet now lives my little child, parfay:* *by my faith<br/> +Now, lady bright, to whom the woeful cryen,<br/> +Thou glory of womanhood, thou faire may,* *maid<br/> +Thou haven of refuge, bright star of day,<br/> +Rue* on my child, that of thy gentleness *take pity<br/> +Ruest on every rueful* in distress. *sorrowful person +</p> + +<p> +“O little child, alas! what is thy guilt,<br/> +That never wroughtest sin as yet, pardie?* *par Dieu; by God<br/> +Why will thine harde* father have thee spilt?** *cruel **destroyed<br/> +O mercy, deare Constable,” quoth she,<br/> +“And let my little child here dwell with thee:<br/> +And if thou dar’st not save him from blame,<br/> +So kiss him ones in his father’s name.” +</p> + +<p> +Therewith she looked backward to the land,<br/> +And saide, “Farewell, husband rutheless!”<br/> +And up she rose, and walked down the strand<br/> +Toward the ship, her following all the press:* *multitude<br/> +And ever she pray’d her child to hold his peace,<br/> +And took her leave, and with an holy intent<br/> +She blessed her, and to the ship she went. +</p> + +<p> +Victualed was the ship, it is no drede,* *doubt<br/> +Abundantly for her a full long space:<br/> +And other necessaries that should need* *be needed<br/> +She had enough, heried* be Godde’s grace: *praised <15><br/> +For wind and weather, Almighty God purchase,* *provide<br/> +And bring her home; I can no better say;<br/> +But in the sea she drived forth her way. +</p> + +<p> +Alla the king came home soon after this<br/> +Unto the castle, of the which I told,<br/> +And asked where his wife and his child is;<br/> +The Constable gan about his heart feel cold,<br/> +And plainly all the matter he him told<br/> +As ye have heard; I can tell it no better;<br/> +And shew’d the king his seal, and eke his letter +</p> + +<p> +And saide; “Lord, as ye commanded me<br/> +On pain of death, so have I done certain.”<br/> +The messenger tormented* was, till he *tortured<br/> +Muste beknow,* and tell it flat and plain, *confess <16><br/> +From night to night in what place he had lain;<br/> +And thus, by wit and subtle inquiring,<br/> +Imagin’d was by whom this harm gan spring. +</p> + +<p> +The hand was known that had the letter wrote,<br/> +And all the venom of the cursed deed;<br/> +But in what wise, certainly I know not.<br/> +Th’ effect is this, that Alla, *out of drede,* *without doubt*<br/> +His mother slew, that may men plainly read,<br/> +For that she traitor was to her liegeance:* *allegiance<br/> +Thus ended olde Donegild with mischance. +</p> + +<p> +The sorrow that this Alla night and day<br/> +Made for his wife, and for his child also,<br/> +There is no tongue that it telle may.<br/> +But now will I again to Constance go,<br/> +That floated in the sea in pain and woe<br/> +Five year and more, as liked Christe’s sond,* *decree, command<br/> +Ere that her ship approached to the lond.* *land +</p> + +<p> +Under an heathen castle, at the last,<br/> +Of which the name in my text I not find,<br/> +Constance and eke her child the sea upcast.<br/> +Almighty God, that saved all mankind,<br/> +Have on Constance and on her child some mind,<br/> +That fallen is in heathen hand eftsoon* *again<br/> +*In point to spill,* as I shall tell you soon! *in danger of<br/> + perishing*<br/> +Down from the castle came there many a wight<br/> +To gauren* on this ship, and on Constance: *gaze, stare<br/> +But shortly from the castle, on a night,<br/> +The lorde’s steward, — God give him mischance, —<br/> +A thief that had *renied our creance,* *denied our faith*<br/> +Came to the ship alone, and said he would<br/> +Her leman* be, whether she would or n’ould. *illicit lover +</p> + +<p> +Woe was this wretched woman then begone;<br/> +Her child cri’d, and she cried piteously:<br/> +But blissful Mary help’d her right anon,<br/> +For, with her struggling well and mightily,<br/> +The thief fell overboard all suddenly,<br/> +And in the sea he drenched* for vengeance, *drowned<br/> +And thus hath Christ unwemmed* kept Constance. *unblemished +</p> + +<p> +O foul lust of luxury! lo thine end!<br/> +Not only that thou faintest* manne’s mind, *weakenest<br/> +But verily thou wilt his body shend.* *destroy<br/> +Th’ end of thy work, or of thy lustes blind,<br/> +Is complaining: how many may men find,<br/> +That not for work, sometimes, but for th’ intent<br/> +To do this sin, be either slain or shent? +</p> + +<p> +How may this weake woman have the strength<br/> +Her to defend against this renegate?<br/> +O Goliath, unmeasurable of length,<br/> +How mighte David make thee so mate?* *overthrown<br/> +So young, and of armour so desolate,* *devoid<br/> +How durst he look upon thy dreadful face?<br/> +Well may men see it was but Godde’s grace. +</p> + +<p> +Who gave Judith courage or hardiness<br/> +To slay him, Holofernes, in his tent,<br/> +And to deliver out of wretchedness<br/> +The people of God? I say for this intent<br/> +That right as God spirit of vigour sent<br/> +To them, and saved them out of mischance,<br/> +So sent he might and vigour to Constance. +</p> + +<p> +Forth went her ship throughout the narrow mouth<br/> +Of *Jubaltare and Septe,* driving alway, *Gibraltar and Ceuta*<br/> +Sometime west, and sometime north and south,<br/> +And sometime east, full many a weary day:<br/> +Till Christe’s mother (blessed be she aye)<br/> +Had shaped* through her endeless goodness *resolved, arranged<br/> +To make an end of all her heaviness. +</p> + +<p> +Now let us stint* of Constance but a throw,** *cease speaking<br/> +And speak we of the Roman emperor, **short time<br/> +That out of Syria had by letters know<br/> +The slaughter of Christian folk, and dishonor<br/> +Done to his daughter by a false traitor,<br/> +I mean the cursed wicked Soudaness,<br/> +That at the feast *let slay both more and less.* *caused both high<br/> + and low to be killed*<br/> +For which this emperor had sent anon<br/> +His senator, with royal ordinance,<br/> +And other lordes, God wot, many a one,<br/> +On Syrians to take high vengeance:<br/> +They burn and slay, and bring them to mischance<br/> +Full many a day: but shortly this is th’ end,<br/> +Homeward to Rome they shaped them to wend. +</p> + +<p> +This senator repaired with victory<br/> +To Rome-ward, sailing full royally,<br/> +And met the ship driving, as saith the story,<br/> +In which Constance sat full piteously:<br/> +And nothing knew he what she was, nor why<br/> +She was in such array; nor she will say<br/> +Of her estate, although that she should dey.* *die +</p> + +<p> +He brought her unto Rome, and to his wife<br/> +He gave her, and her younge son also:<br/> +And with the senator she led her life.<br/> +Thus can our Lady bringen out of woe<br/> +Woeful Constance, and many another mo’:<br/> +And longe time she dwelled in that place,<br/> +In holy works ever, as was her grace. +</p> + +<p> +The senatores wife her aunte was,<br/> +But for all that she knew her ne’er the more:<br/> +I will no longer tarry in this case,<br/> +But to King Alla, whom I spake of yore,<br/> +That for his wife wept and sighed sore,<br/> +I will return, and leave I will Constance<br/> +Under the senatores governance. +</p> + +<p> +King Alla, which that had his mother slain,<br/> +Upon a day fell in such repentance;<br/> +That, if I shortly tell it shall and plain,<br/> +To Rome he came to receive his penitance,<br/> +And put him in the Pope’s ordinance<br/> +In high and low, and Jesus Christ besought<br/> +Forgive his wicked works that he had wrought. +</p> + +<p> +The fame anon throughout the town is borne,<br/> +How Alla king shall come on pilgrimage,<br/> +By harbingers that wente him beforn,<br/> +For which the senator, as was usage,<br/> +Rode *him again,* and many of his lineage, *to meet him*<br/> +As well to show his high magnificence,<br/> +As to do any king a reverence. +</p> + +<p> +Great cheere* did this noble senator *courtesy<br/> +To King Alla and he to him also;<br/> +Each of them did the other great honor;<br/> +And so befell, that in a day or two<br/> +This senator did to King Alla go<br/> +To feast, and shortly, if I shall not lie,<br/> +Constance’s son went in his company. +</p> + +<p> +Some men would say,<17> at request of Constance<br/> +This senator had led this child to feast:<br/> +I may not tellen every circumstance,<br/> +Be as be may, there was he at the least:<br/> +But sooth is this, that at his mother’s hest* *behest<br/> +Before Alla during *the meates space,* *meal time*<br/> +The child stood, looking in the kinges face. +</p> + +<p> +This Alla king had of this child great wonder,<br/> +And to the senator he said anon,<br/> +“Whose is that faire child that standeth yonder?”<br/> +“I n’ot,”* quoth he, “by God and by Saint John; *know not<br/> +A mother he hath, but father hath he none,<br/> +That I of wot:” and shortly in a stound* *short time <18><br/> +He told to Alla how this child was found. +</p> + +<p> +“But God wot,” quoth this senator also,<br/> +“So virtuous a liver in all my life<br/> +I never saw, as she, nor heard of mo’<br/> +Of worldly woman, maiden, widow or wife:<br/> +I dare well say she hadde lever* a knife *rather<br/> +Throughout her breast, than be a woman wick’,* *wicked<br/> +There is no man could bring her to that prick.* *point +</p> + +<p> +Now was this child as like unto Constance<br/> +As possible is a creature to be:<br/> +This Alla had the face in remembrance<br/> +Of Dame Constance, and thereon mused he,<br/> +If that the childe’s mother *were aught she* *could be she*<br/> +That was his wife; and privily he sight,* *sighed<br/> +And sped him from the table *that he might.* *as fast as he could* +</p> + +<p> +“Parfay,”* thought he, “phantom** is in mine head. *by my faith<br/> +I ought to deem, of skilful judgement, **a fantasy<br/> +That in the salte sea my wife is dead.”<br/> +And afterward he made his argument,<br/> +“What wot I, if that Christ have hither sent<br/> +My wife by sea, as well as he her sent<br/> +To my country, from thennes that she went?” +</p> + +<p> +And, after noon, home with the senator.<br/> +Went Alla, for to see this wondrous chance.<br/> +This senator did Alla great honor,<br/> +And hastily he sent after Constance:<br/> +But truste well, her liste not to dance.<br/> +When that she wiste wherefore was that sond,* *summons<br/> +Unneth* upon her feet she mighte stand. *with difficulty +</p> + +<p> +When Alla saw his wife, fair he her gret,* *greeted<br/> +And wept, that it was ruthe for to see,<br/> +For at the firste look he on her set<br/> +He knew well verily that it was she:<br/> +And she, for sorrow, as dumb stood as a tree:<br/> +So was her hearte shut in her distress,<br/> +When she remember’d his unkindeness. +</p> + +<p> +Twice she swooned in his owen sight,<br/> +He wept and him excused piteously:<br/> +“Now God,” quoth he, “and all his hallows bright* *saints<br/> +So wisly* on my soule have mercy, *surely<br/> +That of your harm as guilteless am I,<br/> +As is Maurice my son, so like your face,<br/> +Else may the fiend me fetch out of this place.” +</p> + +<p> +Long was the sobbing and the bitter pain,<br/> +Ere that their woeful heartes mighte cease;<br/> +Great was the pity for to hear them plain,* *lament<br/> +Through whiche plaintes gan their woe increase.<br/> +I pray you all my labour to release,<br/> +I may not tell all their woe till to-morrow,<br/> +I am so weary for to speak of sorrow. +</p> + +<p> +But finally, when that the *sooth is wist,* *truth is known*<br/> +That Alla guiltless was of all her woe,<br/> +I trow an hundred times have they kiss’d,<br/> +And such a bliss is there betwixt them two,<br/> +That, save the joy that lasteth evermo’,<br/> +There is none like, that any creature<br/> +Hath seen, or shall see, while the world may dure. +</p> + +<p> +Then prayed she her husband meekely<br/> +In the relief of her long piteous pine,* *sorrow<br/> +That he would pray her father specially,<br/> +That of his majesty he would incline<br/> +To vouchesafe some day with him to dine:<br/> +She pray’d him eke, that he should by no way<br/> +Unto her father no word of her say. +</p> + +<p> +Some men would say,<17> how that the child Maurice<br/> +Did this message unto the emperor:<br/> +But, as I guess, Alla was not so nice,* *foolish<br/> +To him that is so sovereign of honor<br/> +As he that is of Christian folk the flow’r,<br/> +Send any child, but better ’tis to deem<br/> +He went himself; and so it may well seem. +</p> + +<p> +This emperor hath granted gentilly<br/> +To come to dinner, as he him besought:<br/> +And well rede* I, he looked busily *guess, know<br/> +Upon this child, and on his daughter thought.<br/> +Alla went to his inn, and as him ought<br/> +Arrayed* for this feast in every wise, *prepared<br/> +*As farforth as his cunning* may suffice. *as far as his skill* +</p> + +<p> +The morrow came, and Alla gan him dress,* *make ready<br/> +And eke his wife, the emperor to meet:<br/> +And forth they rode in joy and in gladness,<br/> +And when she saw her father in the street,<br/> +She lighted down and fell before his feet.<br/> +“Father,” quoth she, “your younge child Constance<br/> +Is now full clean out of your remembrance. +</p> + +<p> +“I am your daughter, your Constance,” quoth she,<br/> +“That whilom ye have sent into Syrie;<br/> +It am I, father, that in the salt sea<br/> +Was put alone, and damned* for to die. *condemned<br/> +Now, goode father, I you mercy cry,<br/> +Send me no more into none heatheness,<br/> +But thank my lord here of his kindeness.” +</p> + +<p> +Who can the piteous joye tellen all,<br/> +Betwixt them three, since they be thus y-met?<br/> +But of my tale make an end I shall,<br/> +The day goes fast, I will no longer let.* *hinder<br/> +These gladde folk to dinner be y-set;<br/> +In joy and bliss at meat I let them dwell,<br/> +A thousand fold well more than I can tell. +</p> + +<p> +This child Maurice was since then emperor<br/> +Made by the Pope, and lived Christianly,<br/> +To Christe’s Churche did he great honor:<br/> +But I let all his story passe by,<br/> +Of Constance is my tale especially,<br/> +In the olde Roman gestes* men may find *histories<19><br/> +Maurice’s life, I bear it not in mind. +</p> + +<p> +This King Alla, when he his time sey,* *saw<br/> +With his Constance, his holy wife so sweet,<br/> +To England are they come the righte way,<br/> +Where they did live in joy and in quiet.<br/> +But little while it lasted, I you hete,* *promise<br/> +Joy of this world for time will not abide,<br/> +From day to night it changeth as the tide. +</p> + +<p> +Who liv’d ever in such delight one day,<br/> +That him not moved either conscience,<br/> +Or ire, or talent, or *some kind affray,* *some kind of disturbance*<br/> +Envy, or pride, or passion, or offence?<br/> +I say but for this ende this sentence,* *judgment, opinion*<br/> +That little while in joy or in pleasance<br/> +Lasted the bliss of Alla with Constance. +</p> + +<p> +For death, that takes of high and low his rent,<br/> +When passed was a year, even as I guess,<br/> +Out of this world this King Alla he hent,* *snatched<br/> +For whom Constance had full great heaviness.<br/> +Now let us pray that God his soule bless:<br/> +And Dame Constance, finally to say,<br/> +Toward the town of Rome went her way. +</p> + +<p> +To Rome is come this holy creature,<br/> +And findeth there her friendes whole and sound:<br/> +Now is she scaped all her aventure:<br/> +And when that she her father hath y-found,<br/> +Down on her knees falleth she to ground,<br/> +Weeping for tenderness in hearte blithe<br/> +She herieth* God an hundred thousand sithe.** *praises **times +</p> + +<p> +In virtue and in holy almes-deed<br/> +They liven all, and ne’er asunder wend;<br/> +Till death departeth them, this life they lead:<br/> +And fare now well, my tale is at an end<br/> +Now Jesus Christ, that of his might may send<br/> +Joy after woe, govern us in his grace<br/> +And keep us alle that be in this place. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Man of Law’s Tale +</p> + +<p> +1. This tale is believed by Tyrwhitt to have been taken, with no +material change, from the “Confessio Amantis” of John Gower, +who was contemporary with Chaucer, though somewhat his +senior. In the prologue, the references to the stories of Canace, +and of Apollonius Tyrius, seem to be an attack on Gower, who +had given these tales in his book; whence Tyrwhitt concludes +that the friendship between the two poets suffered some +interruption in the latter part of their lives. Gower was not the +inventor of the story, which he found in old French romances, +and it is not improbable that Chaucer may have gone to the +same source as Gower, though the latter undoubtedly led the +way. +(Transcriber’s note: later commentators have identified the +introduction describing the sorrows of poverty, along with the +other moralising interludes in the tale, as translated from “De +Contemptu Mundi” (“On the contempt of the world”) by Pope +Innocent.) +</p> + +<p> +2. Transcriber’ note: This refers to the game of hazard, a dice +game like craps, in which two (“ambes ace”) won, and eleven +(“six-cinque”) lost. +</p> + +<p> +3. Purpose: discourse, tale: French “propos”. +</p> + +<p> +4. “Peace” rhymed with “lese” and “chese”, the old forms of +“lose” and “choose”. +</p> + +<p> +5. According to Middle Age writers there were two motions of +the first heaven; one everything always from east to west above +the stars; the other moving the stars against the first motion, +from west to east, on two other poles. +</p> + +<p> +6. Atyzar: the meaning of this word is not known; but “occifer”, +murderer, has been suggested instead by Urry, on the authority +of a marginal reading on a manuscript. +(Transcriber’s note: later commentators explain it as derived +from Arabic “al-ta’thir”, influence - used here in an astrological +sense) +</p> + +<p> +7. “Thou knittest thee where thou art not receiv’d, +Where thou wert well, from thennes art thou weiv’d” +i.e. +“Thou joinest thyself where thou art rejected, and art declined +or departed from the place where thou wert well.” The moon +portends the fortunes of Constance. +</p> + +<p> +8. Fand: endeavour; from Anglo-Saxon, “fandian,” to try +</p> + +<p> +9. Feng: take; Anglo-Saxon “fengian”, German, “fangen”. +</p> + +<p> +10. Him and her on which thy limbes faithfully extend: those +who in faith wear the crucifix. +</p> + +<p> +11. The four spirits of tempest: the four angels who held the +four winds of the earth and to whom it was given to hurt the +earth and the sea (Rev. vii. 1, 2). +</p> + +<p> +12. Thennes would it not in all a tide: thence would it not move +for long, at all. +</p> + +<p> +13. A manner Latin corrupt: a kind of bastard Latin. +</p> + +<p> +14. Knave child: male child; German “Knabe”. +</p> + +<p> +15. Heried: honoured, praised; from Anglo-Saxon, “herian.” +Compare German, “herrlich,” glorious, honourable. +</p> + +<p> +16. Beknow: confess; German, “bekennen.” +</p> + +<p> +17. The poet here refers to Gower’s version of the story. +</p> + +<p> +18. Stound: short time; German, “stunde”, hour. +</p> + +<p> +19. Gestes: histories, exploits; Latin, “res gestae”. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap10"></a>THE WIFE OF BATH’S TALE.</h2> + +<h3>THE PROLOGUE. <1></h3> + +<p> +Experience, though none authority* *authoritative texts<br/> +Were in this world, is right enough for me<br/> +To speak of woe that is in marriage:<br/> +For, lordings, since I twelve year was of age,<br/> +(Thanked be God that *is etern on live),* *lives eternally*<br/> +Husbands at the church door have I had five,<2><br/> +For I so often have y-wedded be,<br/> +And all were worthy men in their degree.<br/> +But me was told, not longe time gone is<br/> +That sithen* Christe went never but ones *since<br/> +To wedding, in the Cane* of Galilee, *Cana<br/> +That by that ilk* example taught he me, *same<br/> +That I not wedded shoulde be but once.<br/> +Lo, hearken eke a sharp word for the nonce,* *occasion<br/> +Beside a welle Jesus, God and man,<br/> +Spake in reproof of the Samaritan:<br/> +“Thou hast y-had five husbandes,” said he;<br/> +“And thilke* man, that now hath wedded thee, *that<br/> +Is not thine husband:” <3> thus said he certain;<br/> +What that he meant thereby, I cannot sayn.<br/> +But that I aske, why the fifthe man<br/> +Was not husband to the Samaritan?<br/> +How many might she have in marriage?<br/> +Yet heard I never tellen *in mine age* *in my life*<br/> +Upon this number definitioun.<br/> +Men may divine, and glosen* up and down; *comment<br/> +But well I wot, express without a lie,<br/> +God bade us for to wax and multiply;<br/> +That gentle text can I well understand.<br/> +Eke well I wot, he said, that mine husband<br/> +Should leave father and mother, and take to me;<br/> +But of no number mention made he,<br/> +Of bigamy or of octogamy;<br/> +Why then should men speak of it villainy?* *as if it were a disgrace +</p> + +<p> +Lo here, the wise king Dan* Solomon, *Lord <4><br/> +I trow that he had wives more than one;<br/> +As would to God it lawful were to me<br/> +To be refreshed half so oft as he!<br/> +What gift* of God had he for all his wives? *special favour, licence<br/> +No man hath such, that in this world alive is.<br/> +God wot, this noble king, *as to my wit,* *as I understand*<br/> +The first night had many a merry fit<br/> +With each of them, so *well was him on live.* *so well he lived*<br/> +Blessed be God that I have wedded five!<br/> +Welcome the sixth whenever that he shall.<br/> +For since I will not keep me chaste in all,<br/> +When mine husband is from the world y-gone,<br/> +Some Christian man shall wedde me anon.<br/> +For then th’ apostle saith that I am free<br/> +To wed, *a’ God’s half,* where it liketh me. *on God’s part*<br/> +He saith, that to be wedded is no sin;<br/> +Better is to be wedded than to brin.* *burn<br/> +What recketh* me though folk say villainy** *care **evil<br/> +Of shrewed* Lamech, and his bigamy? *impious, wicked<br/> +I wot well Abraham was a holy man,<br/> +And Jacob eke, as far as ev’r I can.* *know<br/> +And each of them had wives more than two;<br/> +And many another holy man also.<br/> +Where can ye see, *in any manner age,* *in any period*<br/> +That highe God defended* marriage *forbade <5><br/> +By word express? I pray you tell it me;<br/> +Or where commanded he virginity?<br/> +I wot as well as you, it is no dread,* *doubt<br/> +Th’ apostle, when he spake of maidenhead,<br/> +He said, that precept thereof had he none:<br/> +Men may counsel a woman to be one,* *a maid<br/> +But counseling is no commandement;<br/> +He put it in our owen judgement.<br/> +For, hadde God commanded maidenhead,<br/> +Then had he damned* wedding out of dread;** *condemned **doubt<br/> +And certes, if there were no seed y-sow,* *sown<br/> +Virginity then whereof should it grow?<br/> +Paul durste not commanden, at the least,<br/> +A thing of which his Master gave no hest.* *command<br/> +The dart* is set up for virginity; *goal <6><br/> +Catch whoso may, who runneth best let see.<br/> +But this word is not ta’en of every wight,<br/> +*But there as* God will give it of his might. *except where*<br/> +I wot well that th’ apostle was a maid,<br/> +But natheless, although he wrote and said,<br/> +He would that every wight were such as he,<br/> +All is but counsel to virginity.<br/> +And, since to be a wife he gave me leave<br/> +Of indulgence, so is it no repreve* *scandal, reproach<br/> +To wedde me, if that my make* should die, *mate, husband<br/> +Without exception* of bigamy; *charge, reproach<br/> +*All were it* good no woman for to touch *though it might be*<br/> +(He meant as in his bed or in his couch),<br/> +For peril is both fire and tow t’assemble<br/> +Ye know what this example may resemble.<br/> +This is all and some, he held virginity<br/> +More profit than wedding in frailty:<br/> +(*Frailty clepe I, but if* that he and she *frailty I call it,<br/> +Would lead their lives all in chastity), unless*<br/> +I grant it well, I have of none envy<br/> +Who maidenhead prefer to bigamy;<br/> +It liketh them t’ be clean in body and ghost;* *soul<br/> +Of mine estate* I will not make a boast. *condition +</p> + +<p> +For, well ye know, a lord in his household<br/> +Hath not every vessel all of gold; <7><br/> +Some are of tree, and do their lord service.<br/> +God calleth folk to him in sundry wise,<br/> +And each one hath of God a proper gift,<br/> +Some this, some that, as liketh him to shift.* *appoint, distribute<br/> +Virginity is great perfection,<br/> +And continence eke with devotion:<br/> +But Christ, that of perfection is the well,* *fountain<br/> +Bade not every wight he should go sell<br/> +All that he had, and give it to the poor,<br/> +And in such wise follow him and his lore:* *doctrine<br/> +He spake to them that would live perfectly, —<br/> +And, lordings, by your leave, that am not I;<br/> +I will bestow the flower of mine age<br/> +In th’ acts and in the fruits of marriage.<br/> +Tell me also, to what conclusion* *end, purpose<br/> +Were members made of generation,<br/> +And of so perfect wise a wight* y-wrought? *being<br/> +Trust me right well, they were not made for nought.<br/> +Glose whoso will, and say both up and down,<br/> +That they were made for the purgatioun<br/> +Of urine, and of other thinges smale,<br/> +And eke to know a female from a male:<br/> +And for none other cause? say ye no?<br/> +Experience wot well it is not so.<br/> +So that the clerkes* be not with me wroth, *scholars<br/> +I say this, that they were made for both,<br/> +That is to say, *for office, and for ease* *for duty and<br/> +Of engendrure, there we God not displease. for pleasure*<br/> +Why should men elles in their bookes set,<br/> +That man shall yield unto his wife her debt?<br/> +Now wherewith should he make his payement,<br/> +If he us’d not his silly instrument?<br/> +Then were they made upon a creature<br/> +To purge urine, and eke for engendrure.<br/> +But I say not that every wight is hold,* *obliged<br/> +That hath such harness* as I to you told, *equipment<br/> +To go and use them in engendrure;<br/> +Then should men take of chastity no cure.* *care<br/> +Christ was a maid, and shapen* as a man, *fashioned<br/> +And many a saint, since that this world began,<br/> +Yet ever liv’d in perfect chastity.<br/> +I will not vie* with no virginity. *contend<br/> +Let them with bread of pured* wheat be fed, *purified<br/> +And let us wives eat our barley bread.<br/> +And yet with barley bread, Mark tell us can,<8><br/> +Our Lord Jesus refreshed many a man.<br/> +In such estate as God hath *cleped us,* *called us to<br/> +I’ll persevere, I am not precious,* *over-dainty<br/> +In wifehood I will use mine instrument<br/> +As freely as my Maker hath it sent.<br/> +If I be dangerous* God give me sorrow; *sparing of my favours<br/> +Mine husband shall it have, both eve and morrow,<br/> +When that him list come forth and pay his debt.<br/> +A husband will I have, I *will no let,* *will bear no hindrance*<br/> +Which shall be both my debtor and my thrall,* *slave<br/> +And have his tribulation withal<br/> +Upon his flesh, while that I am his wife.<br/> +I have the power during all my life<br/> +Upon his proper body, and not he;<br/> +Right thus th’ apostle told it unto me,<br/> +And bade our husbands for to love us well;<br/> +All this sentence me liketh every deal.* *whit +</p> + +<p> +Up start the Pardoner, and that anon;<br/> +“Now, Dame,” quoth he, “by God and by Saint John,<br/> +Ye are a noble preacher in this case.<br/> +I was about to wed a wife, alas!<br/> +What? should I bie* it on my flesh so dear? *suffer for<br/> +Yet had I lever* wed no wife this year.” *rather<br/> +“Abide,”* quoth she; “my tale is not begun *wait in patience<br/> +Nay, thou shalt drinken of another tun<br/> +Ere that I go, shall savour worse than ale.<br/> +And when that I have told thee forth my tale<br/> +Of tribulation in marriage,<br/> +Of which I am expert in all mine age,<br/> +(This is to say, myself hath been the whip),<br/> +Then mayest thou choose whether thou wilt sip<br/> +Of *thilke tunne,* that I now shall broach. *that tun*<br/> +Beware of it, ere thou too nigh approach,<br/> +For I shall tell examples more than ten:<br/> +Whoso will not beware by other men,<br/> +By him shall other men corrected be:<br/> +These same wordes writeth Ptolemy;<br/> +Read in his Almagest, and take it there.”<br/> +“Dame, I would pray you, if your will it were,”<br/> +Saide this Pardoner, “as ye began,<br/> +Tell forth your tale, and spare for no man,<br/> +And teach us younge men of your practique.”<br/> +“Gladly,” quoth she, “since that it may you like.<br/> +But that I pray to all this company,<br/> +If that I speak after my fantasy,<br/> +To take nought agrief* what I may say; *to heart<br/> +For mine intent is only for to play. +</p> + +<p> +Now, Sirs, then will I tell you forth my tale.<br/> +As ever may I drinke wine or ale<br/> +I shall say sooth; the husbands that I had<br/> +Three of them were good, and two were bad<br/> +The three were goode men, and rich, and old<br/> +*Unnethes mighte they the statute hold* *they could with difficulty<br/> +In which that they were bounden unto me. obey the law*<br/> +Yet wot well what I mean of this, pardie.* *by God<br/> +As God me help, I laugh when that I think<br/> +How piteously at night I made them swink,* *labour<br/> +But, *by my fay, I told of it no store:* *by my faith, I held it<br/> +They had me giv’n their land and their treasor, of no account*<br/> +Me needed not do longer diligence<br/> +To win their love, or do them reverence.<br/> +They loved me so well, by God above,<br/> +That I *tolde no dainty* of their love. *cared nothing for*<br/> +A wise woman will busy her ever-in-one* *constantly<br/> +To get their love, where that she hath none.<br/> +But, since I had them wholly in my hand,<br/> +And that they had me given all their land,<br/> +Why should I take keep* them for to please, *care<br/> +But* it were for my profit, or mine ease? *unless<br/> +I set them so a-worke, by my fay,<br/> +That many a night they sange, well-away!<br/> +The bacon was not fetched for them, I trow,<br/> +That some men have in Essex at Dunmow.<9><br/> +I govern’d them so well after my law,<br/> +That each of them full blissful was and fawe* *fain<br/> +To bringe me gay thinges from the fair.<br/> +They were full glad when that I spake them fair,<br/> +For, God it wot, I *chid them spiteously.* *rebuked them angrily*<br/> +Now hearken how I bare me properly. +</p> + +<p> +Ye wise wives, that can understand,<br/> +Thus should ye speak, and *bear them wrong on hand,* *make them<br/> +For half so boldely can there no man believe falsely*<br/> +Swearen and lien as a woman can.<br/> +(I say not this by wives that be wise,<br/> +*But if* it be when they them misadvise.)* *unless* *act unadvisedly<br/> +A wise wife, if that she can* her good, *knows<br/> +Shall *beare them on hand* the cow is wood, *make them believe*<br/> +And take witness of her owen maid<br/> +Of their assent: but hearken how I said.<br/> +“Sir olde kaynard,<10> is this thine array?<br/> +Why is my neigheboure’s wife so gay?<br/> +She is honour’d *over all where* she go’th, *wheresoever<br/> +I sit at home, I have no *thrifty cloth.* *good clothes*<br/> +What dost thou at my neigheboure’s house?<br/> +Is she so fair? art thou so amorous?<br/> +What rown’st* thou with our maid? benedicite, *whisperest<br/> +Sir olde lechour, let thy japes* be. *tricks<br/> +And if I have a gossip, or a friend<br/> +(Withoute guilt), thou chidest as a fiend,<br/> +If that I walk or play unto his house.<br/> +Thou comest home as drunken as a mouse,<br/> +And preachest on thy bench, with evil prefe:* *proof<br/> +Thou say’st to me, it is a great mischief<br/> +To wed a poore woman, for costage:* *expense<br/> +And if that she be rich, of high parage;* * birth <11><br/> +Then say’st thou, that it is a tormentry<br/> +To suffer her pride and melancholy.<br/> +And if that she be fair, thou very knave,<br/> +Thou say’st that every holour* will her have; *whoremonger<br/> +She may no while in chastity abide,<br/> +That is assailed upon every side.<br/> +Thou say’st some folk desire us for richess,<br/> +Some for our shape, and some for our fairness,<br/> +And some, for she can either sing or dance,<br/> +And some for gentiless and dalliance,<br/> +Some for her handes and her armes smale:<br/> +Thus goes all to the devil, by thy tale;<br/> +Thou say’st, men may not keep a castle wall<br/> +That may be so assailed *over all.* *everywhere*<br/> +And if that she be foul, thou say’st that she<br/> +Coveteth every man that she may see;<br/> +For as a spaniel she will on him leap,<br/> +Till she may finde some man her to cheap;* *buy<br/> +And none so grey goose goes there in the lake,<br/> +(So say’st thou) that will be without a make.* *mate<br/> +And say’st, it is a hard thing for to weld *wield, govern<br/> +A thing that no man will, *his thankes, held.* *hold with his goodwill*<br/> +Thus say’st thou, lorel,* when thou go’st to bed, *good-for-nothing<br/> +And that no wise man needeth for to wed,<br/> +Nor no man that intendeth unto heaven.<br/> +With wilde thunder dint* and fiery leven** * stroke **lightning<br/> +Mote* thy wicked necke be to-broke. *may<br/> +Thou say’st, that dropping houses, and eke smoke,<br/> +And chiding wives, make men to flee<br/> +Out of their owne house; ah! ben’dicite,<br/> +What aileth such an old man for to chide?<br/> +Thou say’st, we wives will our vices hide,<br/> +Till we be fast,* and then we will them shew. *wedded<br/> +Well may that be a proverb of a shrew.* *ill-tempered wretch<br/> +Thou say’st, that oxen, asses, horses, hounds,<br/> +They be *assayed at diverse stounds,* *tested at various<br/> +Basons and lavers, ere that men them buy, seasons<br/> +Spoones, stooles, and all such husbandry,<br/> +And so be pots, and clothes, and array,* *raiment<br/> +But folk of wives make none assay,<br/> +Till they be wedded, — olde dotard shrew! —<br/> +And then, say’st thou, we will our vices shew.<br/> +Thou say’st also, that it displeaseth me,<br/> +But if * that thou wilt praise my beauty, *unless<br/> +And but* thou pore alway upon my face, *unless<br/> +And call me faire dame in every place;<br/> +And but* thou make a feast on thilke** day *unless **that<br/> +That I was born, and make me fresh and gay;<br/> +And but thou do to my norice* honour, *nurse <12><br/> +And to my chamberere* within my bow’r, *chamber-maid<br/> +And to my father’s folk, and mine allies;* *relations<br/> +Thus sayest thou, old barrel full of lies.<br/> +And yet also of our prentice Jenkin,<br/> +For his crisp hair, shining as gold so fine,<br/> +And for he squireth me both up and down,<br/> +Yet hast thou caught a false suspicioun:<br/> +I will him not, though thou wert dead to-morrow.<br/> +But tell me this, why hidest thou, *with sorrow,* *sorrow on thee!*<br/> +The keyes of thy chest away from me?<br/> +It is my good* as well as thine, pardie. *property<br/> +What, think’st to make an idiot of our dame?<br/> +Now, by that lord that called is Saint Jame,<br/> +Thou shalt not both, although that thou wert wood,* *furious<br/> +Be master of my body, and my good,* *property<br/> +The one thou shalt forego, maugre* thine eyen. *in spite of<br/> +What helpeth it of me t’inquire and spyen?<br/> +I trow thou wouldest lock me in thy chest.<br/> +Thou shouldest say, ‘Fair wife, go where thee lest;<br/> +Take your disport; I will believe no tales;<br/> +I know you for a true wife, Dame Ales.’* *Alice<br/> +We love no man, that taketh keep* or charge *care<br/> +Where that we go; we will be at our large.<br/> +Of alle men most blessed may he be,<br/> +The wise astrologer Dan* Ptolemy, *Lord<br/> +That saith this proverb in his Almagest:<13><br/> +‘Of alle men his wisdom is highest,<br/> +That recketh not who hath the world in hand.<br/> +By this proverb thou shalt well understand,<br/> +Have thou enough, what thar* thee reck or care *needs, behoves<br/> +How merrily that other folkes fare?<br/> +For certes, olde dotard, by your leave,<br/> +Ye shall have [pleasure] <14> right enough at eve.<br/> +He is too great a niggard that will werne* *forbid<br/> +A man to light a candle at his lantern;<br/> +He shall have never the less light, pardie.<br/> +Have thou enough, thee thar* not plaine** thee *need **complain<br/> +Thou say’st also, if that we make us gay<br/> +With clothing and with precious array,<br/> +That it is peril of our chastity.<br/> +And yet, — with sorrow! — thou enforcest thee,<br/> +And say’st these words in the apostle’s name:<br/> +‘In habit made with chastity and shame* *modesty<br/> +Ye women shall apparel you,’ quoth he,<15><br/> +‘And not in tressed hair and gay perrie,* *jewels<br/> +As pearles, nor with gold, nor clothes rich.’<br/> +After thy text nor after thy rubrich<br/> +I will not work as muchel as a gnat.<br/> +Thou say’st also, I walk out like a cat;<br/> +For whoso woulde singe the catte’s skin<br/> +Then will the catte well dwell in her inn;* *house<br/> +And if the catte’s skin be sleek and gay,<br/> +She will not dwell in house half a day,<br/> +But forth she will, ere any day be daw’d,<br/> +To shew her skin, and go a caterwaw’d.* *caterwauling<br/> +This is to say, if I be gay, sir shrew,<br/> +I will run out, my borel* for to shew. *apparel, fine clothes<br/> +Sir olde fool, what helpeth thee to spyen?<br/> +Though thou pray Argus with his hundred eyen<br/> +To be my wardecorps,* as he can best *body-guard<br/> +In faith he shall not keep me, *but me lest:* *unless I please*<br/> +Yet could I *make his beard,* so may I the. *make a jest of him* +</p> + +<p> +“Thou sayest eke, that there be thinges three, *thrive<br/> +Which thinges greatly trouble all this earth,<br/> +And that no wighte may endure the ferth:* *fourth<br/> +O lefe* sir shrew, may Jesus short** thy life. *pleasant **shorten<br/> +Yet preachest thou, and say’st, a hateful wife<br/> +Y-reckon’d is for one of these mischances.<br/> +Be there *none other manner resemblances* *no other kind of<br/> +That ye may liken your parables unto, comparison*<br/> +But if a silly wife be one of tho?* *those<br/> +Thou likenest a woman’s love to hell;<br/> +To barren land where water may not dwell.<br/> +Thou likenest it also to wild fire;<br/> +The more it burns, the more it hath desire<br/> +To consume every thing that burnt will be.<br/> +Thou sayest, right as wormes shend* a tree, *destroy<br/> +Right so a wife destroyeth her husbond;<br/> +This know they well that be to wives bond.” +</p> + +<p> +Lordings, right thus, as ye have understand,<br/> +*Bare I stiffly mine old husbands on hand,* *made them believe*<br/> +That thus they saiden in their drunkenness;<br/> +And all was false, but that I took witness<br/> +On Jenkin, and upon my niece also.<br/> +O Lord! the pain I did them, and the woe,<br/> +‘Full guilteless, by Godde’s sweete pine;* *pain<br/> +For as a horse I coulde bite and whine;<br/> +I coulde plain,* an’** I was in the guilt, *complain **even though<br/> +Or elles oftentime I had been spilt* *ruined<br/> +Whoso first cometh to the nilll, first grint;* *is ground<br/> +I plained first, so was our war y-stint.* *stopped<br/> +They were full glad to excuse them full blive* *quickly<br/> +Of things that they never *aguilt their live.* *were guilty in their<br/> + lives*<br/> +Of wenches would I *beare them on hand,* *falsely accuse them*<br/> +When that for sickness scarcely might they stand,<br/> +Yet tickled I his hearte for that he<br/> +Ween’d* that I had of him so great cherte:** *though **affection<16><br/> +I swore that all my walking out by night<br/> +Was for to espy wenches that he dight:* *adorned<br/> +Under that colour had I many a mirth.<br/> +For all such wit is given us at birth;<br/> +Deceit, weeping, and spinning, God doth give<br/> +To women kindly, while that they may live. *naturally<br/> +And thus of one thing I may vaunte me,<br/> +At th’ end I had the better in each degree,<br/> +By sleight, or force, or by some manner thing,<br/> +As by continual murmur or grudging,* *complaining<br/> +Namely* a-bed, there hadde they mischance, *especially<br/> +There would I chide, and do them no pleasance:<br/> +I would no longer in the bed abide,<br/> +If that I felt his arm over my side,<br/> +Till he had made his ransom unto me,<br/> +Then would I suffer him do his nicety.* *folly <17><br/> +And therefore every man this tale I tell,<br/> +Win whoso may, for all is for to sell;<br/> +With empty hand men may no hawkes lure;<br/> +For winning would I all his will endure,<br/> +And make me a feigned appetite,<br/> +And yet in bacon* had I never delight: *i.e. of Dunmow <9><br/> +That made me that I ever would them chide.<br/> +For, though the Pope had sitten them beside,<br/> +I would not spare them at their owen board,<br/> +For, by my troth, I quit* them word for word *repaid<br/> +As help me very God omnipotent,<br/> +Though I right now should make my testament<br/> +I owe them not a word, that is not quit* *repaid<br/> +I brought it so aboute by my wit,<br/> +That they must give it up, as for the best<br/> +Or elles had we never been in rest.<br/> +For, though he looked as a wood* lion, *furious<br/> +Yet should he fail of his conclusion.<br/> +Then would I say, “Now, goode lefe* tak keep** *dear **heed<br/> +How meekly looketh Wilken oure sheep!<br/> +Come near, my spouse, and let me ba* thy cheek *kiss <18><br/> +Ye shoulde be all patient and meek,<br/> +And have a *sweet y-spiced* conscience, *tender, nice*<br/> +Since ye so preach of Jobe’s patience.<br/> +Suffer alway, since ye so well can preach,<br/> +And but* ye do, certain we shall you teach* *unless<br/> +That it is fair to have a wife in peace.<br/> +One of us two must bowe* doubteless: *give way<br/> +And since a man is more reasonable<br/> +Than woman is, ye must be suff’rable.<br/> +What aileth you to grudge* thus and groan? *complain<br/> +Is it for ye would have my [love] <14> alone?<br/> +Why, take it all: lo, have it every deal,* *whit<br/> +Peter! <19> shrew* you but ye love it well *curse<br/> +For if I woulde sell my *belle chose*, *beautiful thing*<br/> +I coulde walk as fresh as is a rose,<br/> +But I will keep it for your owen tooth.<br/> +Ye be to blame, by God, I say you sooth.”<br/> +Such manner wordes hadde we on hand. +</p> + +<p> +Now will I speaken of my fourth husband.<br/> +My fourthe husband was a revellour;<br/> +This is to say, he had a paramour,<br/> +And I was young and full of ragerie,* *wantonness<br/> +Stubborn and strong, and jolly as a pie.* *magpie<br/> +Then could I dance to a harpe smale,<br/> +And sing, y-wis,* as any nightingale, *certainly<br/> +When I had drunk a draught of sweete wine.<br/> +Metellius, the foule churl, the swine,<br/> +That with a staff bereft his wife of life<br/> +For she drank wine, though I had been his wife,<br/> +Never should he have daunted me from drink:<br/> +And, after wine, of Venus most I think.<br/> +For all so sure as cold engenders hail,<br/> +A liquorish mouth must have a liquorish tail.<br/> +In woman vinolent* is no defence,** *full of wine *resistance<br/> +This knowe lechours by experience.<br/> +But, lord Christ, when that it rememb’reth me<br/> +Upon my youth, and on my jollity,<br/> +It tickleth me about mine hearte-root;<br/> +Unto this day it doth mine hearte boot,* *good<br/> +That I have had my world as in my time.<br/> +But age, alas! that all will envenime,* *poison, embitter<br/> +Hath me bereft my beauty and my pith:* *vigour<br/> +Let go; farewell; the devil go therewith.<br/> +The flour is gon, there is no more to tell,<br/> +The bran, as I best may, now must I sell.<br/> +But yet to be right merry will I fand.* *try<br/> +Now forth to tell you of my fourth husband,<br/> +I say, I in my heart had great despite,<br/> +That he of any other had delight;<br/> +But he was quit,* by God and by Saint Joce:<21> *requited, paid back<br/> +I made for him of the same wood a cross;<br/> +Not of my body in no foul mannere,<br/> +But certainly I made folk such cheer,<br/> +That in his owen grease I made him fry<br/> +For anger, and for very jealousy.<br/> +By God, in earth I was his purgatory,<br/> +For which I hope his soul may be in glory.<br/> +For, God it wot, he sat full oft and sung,<br/> +When that his shoe full bitterly him wrung.* *pinched<br/> +There was no wight, save God and he, that wist<br/> +In many wise how sore I did him twist.<20><br/> +He died when I came from Jerusalem,<br/> +And lies in grave under the *roode beam:* *cross*<br/> +Although his tomb is not so curious<br/> +As was the sepulchre of Darius,<br/> +Which that Apelles wrought so subtlely.<br/> +It is but waste to bury them preciously.<br/> +Let him fare well, God give his soule rest,<br/> +He is now in his grave and in his chest. +</p> + +<p> +Now of my fifthe husband will I tell:<br/> +God let his soul never come into hell.<br/> +And yet was he to me the moste shrew;* *cruel, ill-tempered<br/> +That feel I on my ribbes all *by rew,* *in a row<br/> +And ever shall, until mine ending day.<br/> +But in our bed he was so fresh and gay,<br/> +And therewithal so well he could me glose,* *flatter<br/> +When that he woulde have my belle chose,<br/> +Though he had beaten me on every bone,<br/> +Yet could he win again my love anon.<br/> +I trow, I lov’d him better, for that he<br/> +Was of his love so dangerous* to me. *sparing, difficult<br/> +We women have, if that I shall not lie,<br/> +In this matter a quainte fantasy.<br/> +Whatever thing we may not lightly have,<br/> +Thereafter will we cry all day and crave.<br/> +Forbid us thing, and that desire we;<br/> +Press on us fast, and thenne will we flee.<br/> +With danger* utter we all our chaffare;** *difficulty **merchandise<br/> +Great press at market maketh deare ware,<br/> +And too great cheap is held at little price;<br/> +This knoweth every woman that is wise.<br/> +My fifthe husband, God his soule bless,<br/> +Which that I took for love and no richess,<br/> +He some time was *a clerk of Oxenford,* *a scholar of Oxford*<br/> +And had left school, and went at home to board<br/> +With my gossip,* dwelling in oure town: *godmother<br/> +God have her soul, her name was Alisoun.<br/> +She knew my heart, and all my privity,<br/> +Bet than our parish priest, so may I the.* *thrive<br/> +To her betrayed I my counsel all;<br/> +For had my husband pissed on a wall,<br/> +Or done a thing that should have cost his life,<br/> +To her, and to another worthy wife,<br/> +And to my niece, which that I loved well,<br/> +I would have told his counsel every deal.* *jot<br/> +And so I did full often, God it wot,<br/> +That made his face full often red and hot<br/> +For very shame, and blam’d himself, for he<br/> +Had told to me so great a privity.* *secret<br/> +And so befell that ones in a Lent<br/> +(So oftentimes I to my gossip went,<br/> +For ever yet I loved to be gay,<br/> +And for to walk in March, April, and May<br/> +From house to house, to heare sundry tales),<br/> +That Jenkin clerk, and my gossip, Dame Ales,<br/> +And I myself, into the fieldes went.<br/> +Mine husband was at London all that Lent;<br/> +I had the better leisure for to play,<br/> +And for to see, and eke for to be sey* *seen<br/> +Of lusty folk; what wist I where my grace* *favour<br/> +Was shapen for to be, or in what place? *appointed<br/> +Therefore made I my visitations<br/> +To vigilies,* and to processions, *festival-eves<22><br/> +To preachings eke, and to these pilgrimages,<br/> +To plays of miracles, and marriages,<br/> +And weared upon me gay scarlet gites.* *gowns<br/> +These wormes, nor these mothes, nor these mites<br/> +On my apparel frett* them never a deal** *fed **whit<br/> +And know’st thou why? for they were used* well. *worn<br/> +Now will I telle forth what happen’d me:<br/> +I say, that in the fieldes walked we,<br/> +Till truely we had such dalliance,<br/> +This clerk and I, that of my purveyance* *foresight<br/> +I spake to him, and told him how that he,<br/> +If I were widow, shoulde wedde me.<br/> +For certainly, I say for no bobance,* *boasting<23><br/> +Yet was I never without purveyance* *foresight<br/> +Of marriage, nor of other thinges eke:<br/> +I hold a mouse’s wit not worth a leek,<br/> +That hath but one hole for to starte* to,<24> *escape<br/> +And if that faile, then is all y-do.* *done<br/> +[*I bare him on hand* he had enchanted me *falsely assured him*<br/> +(My dame taughte me that subtilty);<br/> +And eke I said, I mette* of him all night, *dreamed<br/> +He would have slain me, as I lay upright,<br/> +And all my bed was full of very blood;<br/> +But yet I hop’d that he should do me good;<br/> +For blood betoken’d gold, as me was taught.<br/> +And all was false, I dream’d of him right naught,<br/> +But as I follow’d aye my dame’s lore,<br/> +As well of that as of other things more.] <25><br/> +But now, sir, let me see, what shall I sayn?<br/> +Aha! by God, I have my tale again.<br/> +When that my fourthe husband was on bier,<br/> +I wept algate* and made a sorry cheer,** *always **countenance<br/> +As wives must, for it is the usage;<br/> +And with my kerchief covered my visage;<br/> +But, for I was provided with a make,* *mate<br/> +I wept but little, that I undertake* *promise<br/> +To churche was mine husband borne a-morrow<br/> +With neighebours that for him made sorrow,<br/> +And Jenkin, oure clerk, was one of tho:* *those<br/> +As help me God, when that I saw him go<br/> +After the bier, methought he had a pair<br/> +Of legges and of feet so clean and fair,<br/> +That all my heart I gave unto his hold.* *keeping<br/> +He was, I trow, a twenty winter old,<br/> +And I was forty, if I shall say sooth,<br/> +But yet I had always a colte’s tooth.<br/> +Gat-toothed* I was, and that became me well, *see note <26><br/> +I had the print of Sainte Venus’ seal.<br/> +[As help me God, I was a lusty one,<br/> +And fair, and rich, and young, and *well begone:* *in a good way*<br/> +For certes I am all venerian* *under the influence of Venus<br/> +In feeling, and my heart is martian;* *under the influence of Mars<br/> +Venus me gave my lust and liquorishness,<br/> +And Mars gave me my sturdy hardiness.] <25><br/> +Mine ascendant was Taure,* and Mars therein: *Taurus<br/> +Alas, alas, that ever love was sin!<br/> +I follow’d aye mine inclination<br/> +By virtue of my constellation:<br/> +That made me that I coulde not withdraw<br/> +My chamber of Venus from a good fellaw.<br/> +[Yet have I Marte’s mark upon my face,<br/> +And also in another privy place.<br/> +For God so wisly* be my salvation, *certainly<br/> +I loved never by discretion,<br/> +But ever follow’d mine own appetite,<br/> +All* were he short, or long, or black, or white, *whether<br/> +I took no keep,* so that he liked me, *heed<br/> +How poor he was, neither of what degree.] <25><br/> +What should I say? but that at the month’s end<br/> +This jolly clerk Jenkin, that was so hend,* *courteous<br/> +Had wedded me with great solemnity,<br/> +And to him gave I all the land and fee<br/> +That ever was me given therebefore:<br/> +But afterward repented me full sore.<br/> +He woulde suffer nothing of my list.* *pleasure<br/> +By God, he smote me ones with his fist,<br/> +For that I rent out of his book a leaf,<br/> +That of the stroke mine eare wax’d all deaf.<br/> +Stubborn I was, as is a lioness,<br/> +And of my tongue a very jangleress,* *prater<br/> +And walk I would, as I had done beforn,<br/> +From house to house, although he had it sworn:* *had sworn to<br/> +For which he oftentimes woulde preach prevent it<br/> +And me of olde Roman gestes* teach *stories<br/> +How that Sulpitius Gallus left his wife<br/> +And her forsook for term of all his<br/> +For nought but open-headed* he her say** *bare-headed **saw<br/> +Looking out at his door upon a day.<br/> +Another Roman <27> told he me by name,<br/> +That, for his wife was at a summer game<br/> +Without his knowing, he forsook her eke.<br/> +And then would he upon his Bible seek<br/> +That ilke* proverb of Ecclesiast, *same<br/> +Where he commandeth, and forbiddeth fast,<br/> +Man shall not suffer his wife go roll about.<br/> +Then would he say right thus withoute doubt:<br/> +“Whoso that buildeth his house all of sallows,* *willows<br/> +And pricketh his blind horse over the fallows,<br/> +And suff’reth his wife to *go seeke hallows,* *make pilgrimages*<br/> +Is worthy to be hanged on the gallows.”<br/> +But all for nought; I *sette not a haw* *cared nothing for*<br/> +Of his proverbs, nor of his olde saw;<br/> +Nor would I not of him corrected be.<br/> +I hate them that my vices telle me,<br/> +And so do more of us (God wot) than I.<br/> +This made him wood* with me all utterly; *furious<br/> +I woulde not forbear* him in no case. *endure<br/> +Now will I say you sooth, by Saint Thomas,<br/> +Why that I rent out of his book a leaf,<br/> +For which he smote me, so that I was deaf.<br/> +He had a book, that gladly night and day<br/> +For his disport he would it read alway;<br/> +He call’d it Valerie,<28> and Theophrast,<br/> +And with that book he laugh’d alway full fast.<br/> +And eke there was a clerk sometime at Rome,<br/> +A cardinal, that highte Saint Jerome,<br/> +That made a book against Jovinian,<br/> +Which book was there; and eke Tertullian,<br/> +Chrysippus, Trotula, and Heloise,<br/> +That was an abbess not far from Paris;<br/> +And eke the Parables* of Solomon, *Proverbs<br/> +Ovide’s Art, <29> and bourdes* many one; *jests<br/> +And alle these were bound in one volume.<br/> +And every night and day was his custume<br/> +(When he had leisure and vacation<br/> +From other worldly occupation)<br/> +To readen in this book of wicked wives.<br/> +He knew of them more legends and more lives<br/> +Than be of goodde wives in the Bible.<br/> +For, trust me well, it is an impossible<br/> +That any clerk will speake good of wives,<br/> +(*But if* it be of holy saintes’ lives) *unless<br/> +Nor of none other woman never the mo’.<br/> +Who painted the lion, tell it me, who?<br/> +By God, if women haddde written stories,<br/> +As clerkes have within their oratories,<br/> +They would have writ of men more wickedness<br/> +Than all the mark of Adam <30> may redress<br/> +The children of Mercury and of Venus,<31><br/> +Be in their working full contrarious.<br/> +Mercury loveth wisdom and science,<br/> +And Venus loveth riot and dispence.* *extravagance<br/> +And for their diverse disposition,<br/> +Each falls in other’s exaltation.<br/> +As thus, God wot, Mercury is desolate<br/> +In Pisces, where Venus is exaltate,<br/> +And Venus falls where Mercury is raised. <32><br/> +Therefore no woman by no clerk is praised.<br/> +The clerk, when he is old, and may not do<br/> +Of Venus’ works not worth his olde shoe,<br/> +Then sits he down, and writes in his dotage,<br/> +That women cannot keep their marriage.<br/> +But now to purpose, why I tolde thee<br/> +That I was beaten for a book, pardie. +</p> + +<p> +Upon a night Jenkin, that was our sire,* *goodman<br/> +Read on his book, as he sat by the fire,<br/> +Of Eva first, that for her wickedness<br/> +Was all mankind brought into wretchedness,<br/> +For which that Jesus Christ himself was slain,<br/> +That bought us with his hearte-blood again.<br/> +Lo here express of women may ye find<br/> +That woman was the loss of all mankind.<br/> +Then read he me how Samson lost his hairs<br/> +Sleeping, his leman cut them with her shears,<br/> +Through whiche treason lost he both his eyen.<br/> +Then read he me, if that I shall not lien,<br/> +Of Hercules, and of his Dejanire,<br/> +That caused him to set himself on fire.<br/> +Nothing forgot he of the care and woe<br/> +That Socrates had with his wives two;<br/> +How Xantippe cast piss upon his head.<br/> +This silly man sat still, as he were dead,<br/> +He wip’d his head, and no more durst he sayn,<br/> +But, “Ere the thunder stint* there cometh rain.” *ceases<br/> +Of Phasiphae, that was queen of Crete,<br/> +For shrewedness* he thought the tale sweet. *wickedness<br/> +Fy, speak no more, it is a grisly thing,<br/> +Of her horrible lust and her liking.<br/> +Of Clytemnestra, for her lechery<br/> +That falsely made her husband for to die,<br/> +He read it with full good devotion.<br/> +He told me eke, for what occasion<br/> +Amphiorax at Thebes lost his life:<br/> +My husband had a legend of his wife<br/> +Eryphile, that for an ouche* of gold *clasp, collar<br/> +Had privily unto the Greekes told,<br/> +Where that her husband hid him in a place,<br/> +For which he had at Thebes sorry grace.<br/> +Of Luna told he me, and of Lucie;<br/> +They bothe made their husbands for to die,<br/> +That one for love, that other was for hate.<br/> +Luna her husband on an ev’ning late<br/> +Empoison’d had, for that she was his foe:<br/> +Lucia liquorish lov’d her husband so,<br/> +That, for he should always upon her think,<br/> +She gave him such a manner* love-drink, *sort of<br/> +That he was dead before it were the morrow:<br/> +And thus algates* husbands hadde sorrow. *always<br/> +Then told he me how one Latumeus<br/> +Complained to his fellow Arius<br/> +That in his garden growed such a tree,<br/> +On which he said how that his wives three<br/> +Hanged themselves for heart dispiteous.<br/> +“O leve* brother,” quoth this Arius, *dear<br/> +“Give me a plant of thilke* blessed tree, *that<br/> +And in my garden planted shall it be.”<br/> +Of later date of wives hath he read,<br/> +That some have slain their husbands in their bed,<br/> +And let their *lechour dight them* all the night, *lover ride them*<br/> +While that the corpse lay on the floor upright:<br/> +And some have driven nails into their brain,<br/> +While that they slept, and thus they have them slain:<br/> +Some have them given poison in their drink:<br/> +He spake more harm than hearte may bethink.<br/> +And therewithal he knew of more proverbs,<br/> +Than in this world there groweth grass or herbs.<br/> +“Better (quoth he) thine habitation<br/> +Be with a lion, or a foul dragon,<br/> +Than with a woman using for to chide.<br/> +Better (quoth he) high in the roof abide,<br/> +Than with an angry woman in the house,<br/> +They be so wicked and contrarious:<br/> +They hate that their husbands loven aye.”<br/> +He said, “A woman cast her shame away<br/> +When she cast off her smock;” and farthermo’,<br/> +“A fair woman, but* she be chaste also, *except<br/> +Is like a gold ring in a sowe’s nose.<br/> +Who coulde ween,* or who coulde suppose *think<br/> +The woe that in mine heart was, and the pine?* *pain<br/> +And when I saw that he would never fine* *finish<br/> +To readen on this cursed book all night,<br/> +All suddenly three leaves have I plight* *plucked<br/> +Out of his book, right as he read, and eke<br/> +I with my fist so took him on the cheek,<br/> +That in our fire he backward fell adown.<br/> +And he up start, as doth a wood* lion, *furious<br/> +And with his fist he smote me on the head,<br/> +That on the floor I lay as I were dead.<br/> +And when he saw how still that there I lay,<br/> +He was aghast, and would have fled away,<br/> +Till at the last out of my swoon I braid,* *woke<br/> +“Oh, hast thou slain me, thou false thief?” I said<br/> +“And for my land thus hast thou murder’d me?<br/> +Ere I be dead, yet will I kisse thee.”<br/> +And near he came, and kneeled fair adown,<br/> +And saide”, “Deare sister Alisoun,<br/> +As help me God, I shall thee never smite:<br/> +That I have done it is thyself to wite,* *blame<br/> +Forgive it me, and that I thee beseek.”* *beseech<br/> +And yet eftsoons* I hit him on the cheek, *immediately; again<br/> +And saidde, “Thief, thus much am I awreak.* *avenged<br/> +Now will I die, I may no longer speak.” +</p> + +<p> +But at the last, with muche care and woe<br/> +We fell accorded* by ourselves two: *agreed<br/> +He gave me all the bridle in mine hand<br/> +To have the governance of house and land,<br/> +And of his tongue, and of his hand also.<br/> +I made him burn his book anon right tho.* *then<br/> +And when that I had gotten unto me<br/> +By mast’ry all the sovereignety,<br/> +And that he said, “Mine owen true wife,<br/> +Do *as thee list,* the term of all thy life, *as pleases thee*<br/> +Keep thine honour, and eke keep mine estate;<br/> +After that day we never had debate.<br/> +God help me so, I was to him as kind<br/> +As any wife from Denmark unto Ind,<br/> +And also true, and so was he to me:<br/> +I pray to God that sits in majesty<br/> +So bless his soule, for his mercy dear.<br/> +Now will I say my tale, if ye will hear. — +</p> + +<p> +The Friar laugh’d when he had heard all this:<br/> +“Now, Dame,” quoth he, “so have I joy and bliss,<br/> +This is a long preamble of a tale.”<br/> +And when the Sompnour heard the Friar gale,* *speak<br/> +“Lo,” quoth this Sompnour, “Godde’s armes two,<br/> +A friar will intermete* him evermo’: *interpose <33><br/> +Lo, goode men, a fly and eke a frere<br/> +Will fall in ev’ry dish and eke mattere.<br/> +What speak’st thou of perambulation?* *preamble<br/> +What? amble or trot; or peace, or go sit down:<br/> +Thou lettest* our disport in this mattere.” *hinderesst<br/> +“Yea, wilt thou so, Sir Sompnour?” quoth the Frere;<br/> +“Now by my faith I shall, ere that I go,<br/> +Tell of a Sompnour such a tale or two,<br/> +That all the folk shall laughen in this place.”<br/> +“Now do, else, Friar, I beshrew* thy face,” *curse<br/> +Quoth this Sompnour; “and I beshrewe me,<br/> +But if* I telle tales two or three *unless<br/> +Of friars, ere I come to Sittingbourne,<br/> +That I shall make thine hearte for to mourn:<br/> +For well I wot thy patience is gone.”<br/> +Our Hoste cried, “Peace, and that anon;”<br/> +And saide, “Let the woman tell her tale.<br/> +Ye fare* as folk that drunken be of ale. *behave<br/> +Do, Dame, tell forth your tale, and that is best.”<br/> +“All ready, sir,” quoth she, “right as you lest,* *please<br/> +If I have licence of this worthy Frere.”<br/> +“Yes, Dame,” quoth he, “tell forth, and I will hear.” +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Prologue to the Wife of Bath’s Tale +</p> + +<p> +1. Among the evidences that Chaucer’s great work was left +incomplete, is the absence of any link of connexion between the +Wife of Bath’s Prologue and Tale, and what goes before. This +deficiency has in some editions caused the Squire’s and the +Merchant’s Tales to be interposed between those of the Man of +Law and the Wife of Bath; but in the Merchant’s Tale there is +internal proof that it was told after the jolly Dame’s. Several +manuscripts contain verses designed to serve as a connexion; +but they are evidently not Chaucer’s, and it is unnecessary to +give them here. Of this Prologue, which may fairly be regarded +as a distinct autobiographical tale, Tyrwhitt says: “The +extraordinary length of it, as well as the vein of pleasantry that +runs through it, is very suitable to the character of the speaker. +The greatest part must have been of Chaucer’s own invention, +though one may plainly see that he had been reading the popular +invectives against marriage and women in general; such as the +‘Roman de la Rose,’ ‘Valerius ad Rufinum, De non Ducenda +Uxore,’ (‘Valerius to Rufinus, on not being ruled by one’s wife’) +and particularly ‘Hieronymus contra Jovinianum.’ (‘Jerome +against Jovinianus’) St Jerome, among other things designed to +discourage marriage, has inserted in his treatise a long passage +from ‘Liber Aureolus Theophrasti de Nuptiis.’ (‘Theophrastus’s +Golden Book of Marriage’).” +</p> + +<p> +2. A great part of the marriage service used to be performed in +the church-porch. +</p> + +<p> +3. Jesus and the Samaritan woman: John iv. 13. +</p> + +<p> +4. Dan: Lord; Latin, “dominus.” Another reading is “the wise +man, King Solomon.” +</p> + +<p> +5. Defended: forbade; French, “defendre,” to prohibit. +</p> + +<p> +6. Dart: the goal; a spear or dart was set up to mark the point of +victory. +</p> + +<p> +7. “But in a great house there are not only vessels of gold and +silver, but also of wood and of earth; and some to honour, and +some to dishonour.” — 2 Tim. ii 20. +</p> + +<p> +8. Jesus feeding the multitude with barley bread: Mark vi. 41, +42. +</p> + +<p> +9. At Dunmow prevailed the custom of giving, amid much +merry making, a flitch of bacon to the married pair who had +lived together for a year without quarrel or regret. The same +custom prevailed of old in Bretagne. +</p> + +<p> +10. “Cagnard,” or “Caignard,” a French term of reproach, +originally derived from “canis,” a dog. +</p> + +<p> +11. Parage: birth, kindred; from Latin, “pario,” I beget. +</p> + +<p> +12. Norice: nurse; French, “nourrice.” +</p> + +<p> +13. This and the previous quotation from Ptolemy are due to +the Dame’s own fancy. +</p> + +<p> +14. (Transcriber’s note: Some Victorian censorship here. The +word given in [brackets] should be “queint” i.e. “cunt”.) +</p> + +<p> +15. Women should not adorn themselves: see I Tim. ii. 9. +</p> + +<p> +16. Cherte: affection; from French, “cher,” dear. +</p> + +<p> +17. Nicety: folly; French, “niaiserie.” +</p> + +<p> +18. Ba: kiss; from French, “baiser.” +</p> + +<p> +19. Peter!: by Saint Peter! a common adjuration, like Marie! +from the Virgin’s name. +</p> + +<p> +20. St. Joce: or Judocus, a saint of Ponthieu, in France. +</p> + +<p> +21. “An allusion,” says Mr Wright, “to the story of the Roman +sage who, when blamed for divorcing his wife, said that a shoe +might appear outwardly to fit well, but no one but the wearer +knew where it pinched.” +</p> + +<p> +22. Vigilies: festival-eves; see note 33 to the Prologue to the +Tales. +</p> + +<p> +23. Bobance: boasting; Ben Jonson’s braggart, in “Every Man in +his Humour,” is named Bobadil. +</p> + +<p> +24. “I hold a mouse’s wit not worth a leek,<br/> + That hath but one hole for to starte to”<br/> + A very old proverb in French, German, and Latin. +</p> + +<p> +25. The lines in brackets are only in some of the manuscripts. +</p> + +<p> +26. Gat-toothed: gap-toothed; goat-toothed; or cat- or separate +toothed. See note 41 to the prologue to the Tales. +</p> + +<p> +27. Sempronius Sophus, of whom Valerius Maximus tells in his +sixth book. +</p> + +<p> +28. The tract of Walter Mapes against marriage, published +under the title of “Epistola Valerii ad Rufinum.” +</p> + +<p> +29. “Ars Amoris.” +</p> + +<p> +30. All the mark of Adam: all who bear the mark of Adam i.e. +all men. +</p> + +<p> +31. The Children of Mercury and Venus: those born under the +influence of the respective planets. +</p> + +<p> +32. A planet, according to the old astrologers, was in +“exaltation” when in the sign of the Zodiac in which it exerted +its strongest influence; the opposite sign, in which it was +weakest, was called its “dejection.” Venus being strongest in +Pisces, was weakest in Virgo; but in Virgo Mercury was in +“exaltation.” +</p> + +<p> +33. Intermete: interpose; French, “entremettre.” +</p> + +<h3>THE TALE. <1></h3> + +<p> +In olde dayes of the king Arthour,<br/> +Of which that Britons speake great honour,<br/> +All was this land full fill’d of faerie;* *fairies<br/> +The Elf-queen, with her jolly company,<br/> +Danced full oft in many a green mead<br/> +This was the old opinion, as I read;<br/> +I speak of many hundred years ago;<br/> +But now can no man see none elves mo’,<br/> +For now the great charity and prayeres<br/> +Of limitours,* and other holy freres, *begging friars <2><br/> +That search every land and ev’ry stream<br/> +As thick as motes in the sunne-beam,<br/> +Blessing halls, chambers, kitchenes, and bowers,<br/> +Cities and burghes, castles high and towers,<br/> +Thorpes* and barnes, shepens** and dairies, *villages <3> **stables<br/> +This makes that there be now no faeries:<br/> +For *there as* wont to walke was an elf, *where*<br/> +There walketh now the limitour himself,<br/> +In undermeles* and in morrowings**, *evenings <4> **mornings<br/> +And saith his matins and his holy things,<br/> +As he goes in his limitatioun.* *begging district<br/> +Women may now go safely up and down,<br/> +In every bush, and under every tree;<br/> +There is none other incubus <5> but he;<br/> +And he will do to them no dishonour. +</p> + +<p> +And so befell it, that this king Arthour<br/> +Had in his house a lusty bacheler,<br/> +That on a day came riding from river: <6><br/> +And happen’d, that, alone as she was born,<br/> +He saw a maiden walking him beforn,<br/> +Of which maiden anon, maugre* her head, *in spite of<br/> +By very force he reft her maidenhead:<br/> +For which oppression was such clamour,<br/> +And such pursuit unto the king Arthour,<br/> +That damned* was this knight for to be dead *condemned<br/> +By course of law, and should have lost his head;<br/> +(Paraventure such was the statute tho),* *then<br/> +But that the queen and other ladies mo’<br/> +So long they prayed the king of his grace,<br/> +Till he his life him granted in the place,<br/> +And gave him to the queen, all at her will<br/> +To choose whether she would him save or spill* *destroy<br/> +The queen thanked the king with all her might;<br/> +And, after this, thus spake she to the knight,<br/> +When that she saw her time upon a day.<br/> +“Thou standest yet,” quoth she, “in such array,* *a position<br/> +That of thy life yet hast thou no surety;<br/> +I grant thee life, if thou canst tell to me<br/> +What thing is it that women most desiren:<br/> +Beware, and keep thy neck-bone from the iron* *executioner’s axe<br/> +And if thou canst not tell it me anon,<br/> +Yet will I give thee leave for to gon<br/> +A twelvemonth and a day, to seek and lear* *learn<br/> +An answer suffisant* in this mattere. *satisfactory<br/> +And surety will I have, ere that thou pace,* *go<br/> +Thy body for to yielden in this place.”<br/> +Woe was the knight, and sorrowfully siked;* *sighed<br/> +But what? he might not do all as him liked.<br/> +And at the last he chose him for to wend,* *depart<br/> +And come again, right at the yeare’s end,<br/> +With such answer as God would him purvey:* *provide<br/> +And took his leave, and wended forth his way. +</p> + +<p> +He sought in ev’ry house and ev’ry place,<br/> +Where as he hoped for to finde grace,<br/> +To learne what thing women love the most:<br/> +But he could not arrive in any coast,<br/> +Where as he mighte find in this mattere<br/> +Two creatures *according in fere.* *agreeing together*<br/> +Some said that women loved best richess,<br/> +Some said honour, and some said jolliness,<br/> +Some rich array, and some said lust* a-bed, *pleasure<br/> +And oft time to be widow and be wed.<br/> +Some said, that we are in our heart most eased<br/> +When that we are y-flatter’d and y-praised.<br/> +He *went full nigh the sooth,* I will not lie; *came very near<br/> +A man shall win us best with flattery; the truth*<br/> +And with attendance, and with business<br/> +Be we y-limed,* bothe more and less. *caught with bird-lime<br/> +And some men said that we do love the best<br/> +For to be free, and do *right as us lest,* *whatever we please*<br/> +And that no man reprove us of our vice,<br/> +But say that we are wise, and nothing nice,* *foolish <7><br/> +For truly there is none among us all,<br/> +If any wight will *claw us on the gall,* *see note <8>*<br/> +That will not kick, for that he saith us sooth:<br/> +Assay,* and he shall find it, that so do’th. *try<br/> +For be we never so vicious within,<br/> +We will be held both wise and clean of sin.<br/> +And some men said, that great delight have we<br/> +For to be held stable and eke secre,* *discreet<br/> +And in one purpose steadfastly to dwell,<br/> +And not bewray* a thing that men us tell. *give away<br/> +But that tale is not worth a rake-stele.* *rake-handle<br/> +Pardie, we women canne nothing hele,* *hide <9><br/> +Witness on Midas; will ye hear the tale?<br/> +Ovid, amonges other thinges smale* *small<br/> +Saith, Midas had, under his longe hairs,<br/> +Growing upon his head two ass’s ears;<br/> +The whiche vice he hid, as best he might,<br/> +Full subtlely from every man’s sight,<br/> +That, save his wife, there knew of it no mo’;<br/> +He lov’d her most, and trusted her also;<br/> +He prayed her, that to no creature<br/> +She woulde tellen of his disfigure.<br/> +She swore him, nay, for all the world to win,<br/> +She would not do that villainy or sin,<br/> +To make her husband have so foul a name:<br/> +She would not tell it for her owen shame.<br/> +But natheless her thoughte that she died,<br/> +That she so longe should a counsel hide;<br/> +Her thought it swell’d so sore about her heart<br/> +That needes must some word from her astart<br/> +And, since she durst not tell it unto man<br/> +Down to a marish fast thereby she ran,<br/> +Till she came there, her heart was all afire:<br/> +And, as a bittern bumbles* in the mire, *makes a humming noise<br/> +She laid her mouth unto the water down<br/> +“Bewray me not, thou water, with thy soun’”<br/> +Quoth she, “to thee I tell it, and no mo’,<br/> +Mine husband hath long ass’s eares two!<br/> +Now is mine heart all whole; now is it out;<br/> +I might no longer keep it, out of doubt.”<br/> +Here may ye see, though we a time abide,<br/> +Yet out it must, we can no counsel hide.<br/> +The remnant of the tale, if ye will hear,<br/> +Read in Ovid, and there ye may it lear.* *learn +</p> + +<p> +This knight, of whom my tale is specially,<br/> +When that he saw he might not come thereby,<br/> +That is to say, what women love the most,<br/> +Within his breast full sorrowful was his ghost.* *spirit<br/> +But home he went, for he might not sojourn,<br/> +The day was come, that homeward he must turn.<br/> +And in his way it happen’d him to ride,<br/> +In all his care,* under a forest side, *trouble, anxiety<br/> +Where as he saw upon a dance go<br/> +Of ladies four-and-twenty, and yet mo’,<br/> +Toward this ilke* dance he drew full yern,** *same **eagerly <10><br/> +The hope that he some wisdom there should learn;<br/> +But certainly, ere he came fully there,<br/> +Y-vanish’d was this dance, he knew not where;<br/> +No creature saw he that bare life,<br/> +Save on the green he sitting saw a wife,<br/> +A fouler wight there may no man devise.* *imagine, tell<br/> +Against* this knight this old wife gan to rise, *to meet<br/> +And said, “Sir Knight, hereforth* lieth no way. *from here<br/> +Tell me what ye are seeking, by your fay.<br/> +Paraventure it may the better be:<br/> +These olde folk know muche thing.” quoth she.<br/> +My leve* mother,” quoth this knight, “certain, *dear<br/> +I am but dead, but if* that I can sayn *unless<br/> +What thing it is that women most desire:<br/> +Could ye me wiss,* I would well *quite your hire.”* *instruct <11><br/> +“Plight me thy troth here in mine hand,” quoth she, *reward you*<br/> +“The nexte thing that I require of thee<br/> +Thou shalt it do, if it be in thy might,<br/> +And I will tell it thee ere it be night.”<br/> +“Have here my trothe,” quoth the knight; “I grant.”<br/> +“Thenne,” quoth she, “I dare me well avaunt,* *boast, affirm<br/> +Thy life is safe, for I will stand thereby,<br/> +Upon my life the queen will say as I:<br/> +Let see, which is the proudest of them all,<br/> +That wears either a kerchief or a caul,<br/> +That dare say nay to that I shall you teach.<br/> +Let us go forth withoute longer speech<br/> +Then *rowned she a pistel* in his ear, *she whispered a secret*<br/> +And bade him to be glad, and have no fear. +</p> + +<p> +When they were come unto the court, this knight<br/> +Said, he had held his day, as he had hight,* *promised<br/> +And ready was his answer, as he said.<br/> +Full many a noble wife, and many a maid,<br/> +And many a widow, for that they be wise, —<br/> +The queen herself sitting as a justice, —<br/> +Assembled be, his answer for to hear,<br/> +And afterward this knight was bid appear.<br/> +To every wight commanded was silence,<br/> +And that the knight should tell in audience,<br/> +What thing that worldly women love the best.<br/> +This knight he stood not still, as doth a beast,<br/> +But to this question anon answer’d<br/> +With manly voice, that all the court it heard,<br/> +“My liege lady, generally,” quoth he,<br/> +“Women desire to have the sovereignty<br/> +As well over their husband as their love<br/> +And for to be in mast’ry him above.<br/> +This is your most desire, though ye me kill,<br/> +Do as you list, I am here at your will.”<br/> +In all the court there was no wife nor maid<br/> +Nor widow, that contraried what he said,<br/> +But said, he worthy was to have his life.<br/> +And with that word up start that olde wife<br/> +Which that the knight saw sitting on the green. +</p> + +<p> +“Mercy,” quoth she, “my sovereign lady queen,<br/> +Ere that your court departe, do me right.<br/> +I taughte this answer unto this knight,<br/> +For which he plighted me his trothe there,<br/> +The firste thing I would of him requere,<br/> +He would it do, if it lay in his might.<br/> +Before this court then pray I thee, Sir Knight,”<br/> +Quoth she, “that thou me take unto thy wife,<br/> +For well thou know’st that I have kept* thy life. *preserved<br/> +If I say false, say nay, upon thy fay.”* *faith<br/> +This knight answer’d, “Alas, and well-away!<br/> +I know right well that such was my behest.* *promise<br/> +For Godde’s love choose a new request<br/> +Take all my good, and let my body go.”<br/> +“Nay, then,” quoth she, “I shrew* us bothe two, *curse<br/> +For though that I be old, and foul, and poor,<br/> +I n’ould* for all the metal nor the ore, *would not<br/> +That under earth is grave,* or lies above *buried<br/> +But if thy wife I were and eke thy love.”<br/> +“My love?” quoth he, “nay, my damnation,<br/> +Alas! that any of my nation<br/> +Should ever so foul disparaged be.<br/> +But all for nought; the end is this, that he<br/> +Constrained was, that needs he muste wed,<br/> +And take this olde wife, and go to bed. +</p> + +<p> +Now woulde some men say paraventure<br/> +That for my negligence I do no cure* *take no pains<br/> +To tell you all the joy and all th’ array<br/> +That at the feast was made that ilke* day. *same<br/> +To which thing shortly answeren I shall:<br/> +I say there was no joy nor feast at all,<br/> +There was but heaviness and muche sorrow:<br/> +For privily he wed her on the morrow;<br/> +And all day after hid him as an owl,<br/> +So woe was him, his wife look’d so foul<br/> +Great was the woe the knight had in his thought<br/> +When he was with his wife to bed y-brought;<br/> +He wallow’d, and he turned to and fro.<br/> +This olde wife lay smiling evermo’,<br/> +And said, “Dear husband, benedicite,<br/> +Fares every knight thus with his wife as ye?<br/> +Is this the law of king Arthoures house?<br/> +Is every knight of his thus dangerous?* *fastidious, niggardly<br/> +I am your owen love, and eke your wife<br/> +I am she, which that saved hath your life<br/> +And certes yet did I you ne’er unright.<br/> +Why fare ye thus with me this firste night?<br/> +Ye fare like a man had lost his wit.<br/> +What is my guilt? for God’s love tell me it,<br/> +And it shall be amended, if I may.”<br/> +“Amended!” quoth this knight; “alas, nay, nay,<br/> +It will not be amended, never mo’;<br/> +Thou art so loathly, and so old also,<br/> +And thereto* comest of so low a kind, *in addition<br/> +That little wonder though I wallow and wind;* *writhe, turn about<br/> +So woulde God, mine hearte woulde brest!”* *burst<br/> +“Is this,” quoth she, “the cause of your unrest?”<br/> +“Yea, certainly,” quoth he; “no wonder is.”<br/> +“Now, Sir,” quoth she, “I could amend all this,<br/> +If that me list, ere it were dayes three,<br/> +*So well ye mighte bear you unto me.* *if you could conduct<br/> +But, for ye speaken of such gentleness yourself well<br/> +As is descended out of old richess, towards me*<br/> +That therefore shalle ye be gentlemen;<br/> +Such arrogancy is *not worth a hen.* *worth nothing<br/> +Look who that is most virtuous alway,<br/> +*Prive and apert,* and most intendeth aye *in private and public*<br/> +To do the gentle deedes that he can;<br/> +And take him for the greatest gentleman.<br/> +Christ will,* we claim of him our gentleness, *wills, requires<br/> +Not of our elders* for their old richess. *ancestors<br/> +For though they gave us all their heritage,<br/> +For which we claim to be of high parage,* *birth, descent<br/> +Yet may they not bequeathe, for no thing,<br/> +To none of us, their virtuous living<br/> +That made them gentlemen called to be,<br/> +And bade us follow them in such degree.<br/> +Well can the wise poet of Florence,<br/> +That highte Dante, speak of this sentence:* *sentiment<br/> +Lo, in such manner* rhyme is Dante’s tale. *kind of<br/> +‘Full seld’* upriseth by his branches smale *seldom<br/> +Prowess of man, for God of his goodness<br/> +Wills that we claim of him our gentleness;’ <12><br/> +For of our elders may we nothing claim<br/> +But temp’ral things that man may hurt and maim.<br/> +Eke every wight knows this as well as I,<br/> +If gentleness were planted naturally<br/> +Unto a certain lineage down the line,<br/> +Prive and apert, then would they never fine* *cease<br/> +To do of gentleness the fair office<br/> +Then might they do no villainy nor vice.<br/> +Take fire, and bear it to the darkest house<br/> +Betwixt this and the mount of Caucasus,<br/> +And let men shut the doores, and go thenne,* *thence<br/> +Yet will the fire as fair and lighte brenne* *burn<br/> +As twenty thousand men might it behold;<br/> +*Its office natural aye will it hold,* *it will perform its<br/> +On peril of my life, till that it die. natural duty*<br/> +Here may ye see well how that gentery* *gentility, nobility<br/> +Is not annexed to possession,<br/> +Since folk do not their operation<br/> +Alway, as doth the fire, lo, *in its kind* *from its very nature*<br/> +For, God it wot, men may full often find<br/> +A lorde’s son do shame and villainy.<br/> +And he that will have price* of his gent’ry, *esteem, honour<br/> +For* he was boren of a gentle house, *because<br/> +And had his elders noble and virtuous,<br/> +And will himselfe do no gentle deedes,<br/> +Nor follow his gentle ancestry, that dead is,<br/> +He is not gentle, be he duke or earl;<br/> +For villain sinful deedes make a churl.<br/> +For gentleness is but the renomee* *renown<br/> +Of thine ancestors, for their high bounte,* *goodness, worth<br/> +Which is a strange thing to thy person:<br/> +Thy gentleness cometh from God alone.<br/> +Then comes our very* gentleness of grace; *true<br/> +It was no thing bequeath’d us with our place.<br/> +Think how noble, as saith Valerius,<br/> +Was thilke* Tullius Hostilius, *that<br/> +That out of povert’ rose to high<br/> +Read in Senec, and read eke in Boece,<br/> +There shall ye see express, that it no drede* is, *doubt<br/> +That he is gentle that doth gentle deedes.<br/> +And therefore, leve* husband, I conclude, *dear<br/> +Albeit that mine ancestors were rude,<br/> +Yet may the highe God, — and so hope I, —<br/> +Grant me His grace to live virtuously:<br/> +Then am I gentle when that I begin<br/> +To live virtuously, and waive* sin. *forsake +</p> + +<p> +“And whereas ye of povert’ me repreve,* *reproach<br/> +The highe God, on whom that we believe,<br/> +In wilful povert’ chose to lead his life:<br/> +And certes, every man, maiden, or wife<br/> +May understand that Jesus, heaven’s king,<br/> +Ne would not choose a virtuous living.<br/> +*Glad povert’* is an honest thing, certain; *poverty cheerfully<br/> +This will Senec and other clerkes sayn endured*<br/> +Whoso that *holds him paid of* his povert’, *is satisfied with*<br/> +I hold him rich though he hath not a shirt.<br/> +He that coveteth is a poore wight<br/> +For he would have what is not in his might<br/> +But he that nought hath, nor coveteth to have,<br/> +Is rich, although ye hold him but a knave.* *slave, abject wretch<br/> +*Very povert’ is sinne,* properly. *the only true poverty is sin*<br/> +Juvenal saith of povert’ merrily:<br/> +The poore man, when he goes by the way<br/> +Before the thieves he may sing and play <13><br/> +Povert’ is hateful good,<14> and, as I guess,<br/> +A full great *bringer out of business;* *deliver from trouble*<br/> +A great amender eke of sapience<br/> +To him that taketh it in patience.<br/> +Povert’ is this, although it seem elenge* *strange <15><br/> +Possession that no wight will challenge<br/> +Povert’ full often, when a man is low,<br/> +Makes him his God and eke himself to know<br/> +Povert’ a spectacle* is, as thinketh me *a pair of spectacles<br/> +Through which he may his very* friendes see. *true<br/> +And, therefore, Sir, since that I you not grieve,<br/> +Of my povert’ no more me repreve.* *reproach<br/> +“Now, Sir, of elde* ye repreve me: *age<br/> +And certes, Sir, though none authority* *text, dictum<br/> +Were in no book, ye gentles of honour<br/> +Say, that men should an olde wight honour,<br/> +And call him father, for your gentleness;<br/> +And authors shall I finden, as I guess.<br/> +Now there ye say that I am foul and old,<br/> +Then dread ye not to be a cokewold.* *cuckold<br/> +For filth, and elde, all so may I the,* *thrive<br/> +Be greate wardens upon chastity.<br/> +But natheless, since I know your delight,<br/> +I shall fulfil your wordly appetite.<br/> +Choose now,” quoth she, “one of these thinges tway,<br/> +To have me foul and old till that I dey,* *die<br/> +And be to you a true humble wife,<br/> +And never you displease in all my life:<br/> +Or elles will ye have me young and fair,<br/> +And take your aventure of the repair* *resort<br/> +That shall be to your house because of me, —<br/> +Or in some other place, it may well be?<br/> +Now choose yourselfe whether that you liketh. +</p> + +<p> +This knight adviseth* him and sore he siketh,** *considered **sighed<br/> +But at the last he said in this mannere;<br/> +“My lady and my love, and wife so dear,<br/> +I put me in your wise governance,<br/> +Choose for yourself which may be most pleasance<br/> +And most honour to you and me also;<br/> +I *do no force* the whether of the two: *care not<br/> +For as you liketh, it sufficeth me.”<br/> +“Then have I got the mastery,” quoth she,<br/> +“Since I may choose and govern as me lest.”* *pleases<br/> +“Yea, certes wife,” quoth he, “I hold it best.”<br/> +“Kiss me,” quoth she, “we are no longer wroth,* *at variance<br/> +For by my troth I will be to you both;<br/> +This is to say, yea, bothe fair and good.<br/> +I pray to God that I may *sterve wood,* *die mad*<br/> +But* I to you be all so good and true, *unless<br/> +As ever was wife since the world was new;<br/> +And but* I be to-morrow as fair to seen, *unless<br/> +As any lady, emperess or queen,<br/> +That is betwixt the East and eke the West<br/> +Do with my life and death right as you lest.* *please<br/> +Cast up the curtain, and look how it is.” +</p> + +<p> +And when the knight saw verily all this,<br/> +That she so fair was, and so young thereto,<br/> +For joy he hent* her in his armes two: *took<br/> +His hearte bathed in a bath of bliss,<br/> +A thousand times *on row* he gan her kiss: *in succession*<br/> +And she obeyed him in every thing<br/> +That mighte do him pleasance or liking.<br/> +And thus they live unto their lives’ end<br/> +In perfect joy; and Jesus Christ us send<br/> +Husbandes meek and young, and fresh in bed,<br/> +And grace to overlive them that we wed.<br/> +And eke I pray Jesus to short their lives,<br/> +That will not be governed by their wives.<br/> +And old and angry niggards of dispence,* *expense<br/> +God send them soon a very pestilence! +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Wife of Bath’s Tale +</p> + +<p> +1. It is not clear whence Chaucer derived this tale. Tyrwhitt +thinks it was taken from the story of Florent, in the first book of +Gower’s “Confessio Amantis;” or perhaps from an older +narrative from which Gower himself borrowed. Chaucer has +condensed and otherwise improved the fable, especially by +laying the scene, not in Sicily, but at the court of our own King +Arthur. +</p> + +<p> +2. Limitours: begging friars. See note 18 to the prologue to the +Tales. +</p> + +<p> +3. Thorpes: villages. Compare German, “Dorf,”; Dutch, +“Dorp.” +</p> + +<p> +4. Undermeles: evening-tides, afternoons; “undern” signifies the +evening; and “mele,” corresponds to the German “Mal” or +“Mahl,” time. +</p> + +<p> +5. Incubus: an evil spirit supposed to do violence to women; a +nightmare. +</p> + +<p> +6. Where he had been hawking after waterfowl. Froissart says +that any one engaged in this sport “alloit en riviere.” +</p> + +<p> +7. Nice: foolish; French, “niais.” +</p> + +<p> +8. Claw us on the gall: Scratch us on the sore place. Compare, +“Let the galled jade wince.” Hamlet iii. 2. +</p> + +<p> +9. Hele: hide; from Anglo-Saxon, “helan,” to hide, conceal. +</p> + +<p> +10. Yern: eagerly; German, “gern.” +</p> + +<p> +11. Wiss: instruct; German, “weisen,” to show or counsel. +</p> + +<p> +12. Dante, “Purgatorio”, vii. 121. +</p> + +<p> +13. “Cantabit vacuus coram latrone viator” — “Satires,” x. 22. +</p> + +<p> +14. In a fabulous conference between the Emperor Adrian and +the philosopher Secundus, reported by Vincent of Beauvais, +occurs the passage which Chaucer here paraphrases: — “Quid +est Paupertas? Odibile bonum; sanitas mater; remotio Curarum; +sapientae repertrix; negotium sine damno; possessio absque +calumnia; sine sollicitudinae felicitas.” (What is Poverty? A +hateful good; a mother of health; a putting away of cares; a +discoverer of wisdom; business without injury; ownership +without calumny; happiness without anxiety) +</p> + +<p> +15. Elenge: strange; from French “eloigner,” to remove. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap11"></a>THE FRIAR’S TALE.</h2> + +<h3>THE PROLOGUE.<1></h3> + +<p> +This worthy limitour, this noble Frere,<br/> +He made always a manner louring cheer* *countenance<br/> +Upon the Sompnour; but for honesty* *courtesy<br/> +No villain word as yet to him spake he:<br/> +But at the last he said unto the Wife:<br/> +“Dame,” quoth he, “God give you right good life,<br/> +Ye have here touched, all so may I the,* *thrive<br/> +In school matter a greate difficulty.<br/> +Ye have said muche thing right well, I say;<br/> +But, Dame, here as we ride by the way,<br/> +Us needeth not but for to speak of game,<br/> +And leave authorities, in Godde’s name,<br/> +To preaching, and to school eke of clergy.<br/> +But if it like unto this company,<br/> +I will you of a Sompnour tell a game;<br/> +Pardie, ye may well knowe by the name,<br/> +That of a Sompnour may no good be said;<br/> +I pray that none of you be *evil paid;* *dissatisfied*<br/> +A Sompnour is a runner up and down<br/> +With mandements* for fornicatioun, *mandates, summonses*<br/> +And is y-beat at every towne’s end.”<br/> +Then spake our Host; “Ah, sir, ye should be hend* *civil, gentle<br/> +And courteous, as a man of your estate;<br/> +In company we will have no debate:<br/> +Tell us your tale, and let the Sompnour be.”<br/> +“Nay,” quoth the Sompnour, “let him say by me<br/> +What so him list; when it comes to my lot,<br/> +By God, I shall him quiten* every groat! *pay him off<br/> +I shall him telle what a great honour<br/> +It is to be a flattering limitour<br/> +And his office I shall him tell y-wis”.<br/> +Our Host answered, “Peace, no more of this.”<br/> +And afterward he said unto the frere,<br/> +“Tell forth your tale, mine owen master dear.” +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Prologue to the Friar’s tale +</p> + +<p> +1. On the Tale of the Friar, and that of the Sompnour which +follows, Tyrwhitt has remarked that they “are well engrafted +upon that of the Wife of Bath. The ill-humour which shows +itself between these two characters is quite natural, as no two +professions at that time were at more constant variance. The +regular clergy, and particularly the mendicant friars, affected a +total exemption from all ecclesiastical jurisdiction, except that +of the Pope, which made them exceedingly obnoxious to the +bishops and of course to all the inferior officers of the national +hierarchy.” Both tales, whatever their origin, are bitter satires +on the greed and worldliness of the Romish clergy. +</p> + +<h3>THE TALE.</h3> + +<p> +Whilom* there was dwelling in my country *once on a time<br/> +An archdeacon, a man of high degree,<br/> +That boldely did execution,<br/> +In punishing of fornication,<br/> +Of witchecraft, and eke of bawdery,<br/> +Of defamation, and adultery,<br/> +Of churche-reeves,* and of testaments, *churchwardens<br/> +Of contracts, and of lack of sacraments,<br/> +And eke of many another manner* crime, *sort of<br/> +Which needeth not rehearsen at this time,<br/> +Of usury, and simony also;<br/> +But, certes, lechours did he greatest woe;<br/> +They shoulde singen, if that they were hent;* *caught<br/> +And smale tithers<1> were foul y-shent,* *troubled, put to shame<br/> +If any person would on them complain;<br/> +There might astert them no pecunial pain.<2><br/> +For smalle tithes, and small offering,<br/> +He made the people piteously to sing;<br/> +For ere the bishop caught them with his crook,<br/> +They weren in the archedeacon’s book;<br/> +Then had he, through his jurisdiction,<br/> +Power to do on them correction. +</p> + +<p> +He had a Sompnour ready to his hand,<br/> +A slier boy was none in Engleland;<br/> +For subtlely he had his espiaille,* *espionage<br/> +That taught him well where it might aught avail.<br/> +He coulde spare of lechours one or two,<br/> +To teache him to four and twenty mo’.<br/> +For, — though this Sompnour wood* be as a hare, — *furious, mad<br/> +To tell his harlotry I will not spare,<br/> +For we be out of their correction,<br/> +They have of us no jurisdiction,<br/> +Ne never shall have, term of all their lives. +</p> + +<p> +“Peter; so be the women of the stives,”* *stews<br/> +Quoth this Sompnour, “y-put out of our cure.”* *care +</p> + +<p> +“Peace, with mischance and with misaventure,”<br/> +Our Hoste said, “and let him tell his tale.<br/> +Now telle forth, and let the Sompnour gale,* *whistle; bawl<br/> +Nor spare not, mine owen master dear.” +</p> + +<p> +This false thief, the Sompnour (quoth the Frere),<br/> +Had always bawdes ready to his hand,<br/> +As any hawk to lure in Engleland,<br/> +That told him all the secrets that they knew, —<br/> +For their acquaintance was not come of new;<br/> +They were his approvers* privily. *informers<br/> +He took himself at great profit thereby:<br/> +His master knew not always what he wan.* *won<br/> +Withoute mandement, a lewed* man *ignorant<br/> +He could summon, on pain of Christe’s curse,<br/> +And they were inly glad to fill his purse,<br/> +And make him greate feastes at the nale.* *alehouse<br/> +And right as Judas hadde purses smale,* *small<br/> +And was a thief, right such a thief was he,<br/> +His master had but half *his duety.* *what was owing him*<br/> +He was (if I shall give him his laud)<br/> +A thief, and eke a Sompnour, and a bawd.<br/> +And he had wenches at his retinue,<br/> +That whether that Sir Robert or Sir Hugh,<br/> +Or Jack, or Ralph, or whoso that it were<br/> +That lay by them, they told it in his ear.<br/> +Thus were the wench and he of one assent;<br/> +And he would fetch a feigned mandement,<br/> +And to the chapter summon them both two,<br/> +And pill* the man, and let the wenche go. *plunder, pluck<br/> +Then would he say, “Friend, I shall for thy sake<br/> +Do strike thee out of oure letters blake;* *black<br/> +Thee thar* no more as in this case travail; *need<br/> +I am thy friend where I may thee avail.”<br/> +Certain he knew of bribers many mo’<br/> +Than possible is to tell in yeare’s two:<br/> +For in this world is no dog for the bow,<3><br/> +That can a hurt deer from a whole know,<br/> +Bet* than this Sompnour knew a sly lechour, *better<br/> +Or an adult’rer, or a paramour:<br/> +And, for that was the fruit of all his rent,<br/> +Therefore on it he set all his intent. +</p> + +<p> +And so befell, that once upon a day.<br/> +This Sompnour, waiting ever on his prey,<br/> +Rode forth to summon a widow, an old ribibe,<4><br/> +Feigning a cause, for he would have a bribe.<br/> +And happen’d that he saw before him ride<br/> +A gay yeoman under a forest side:<br/> +A bow he bare, and arrows bright and keen,<br/> +He had upon a courtepy* of green, *short doublet<br/> +A hat upon his head with fringes blake.* *black<br/> +“Sir,” quoth this Sompnour, “hail, and well o’ertake.”<br/> +“Welcome,” quoth he, “and every good fellaw;<br/> +Whither ridest thou under this green shaw?”* shade<br/> +Saide this yeoman; “wilt thou far to-day?”<br/> +This Sompnour answer’d him, and saide, “Nay.<br/> +Here faste by,” quoth he, “is mine intent<br/> +To ride, for to raisen up a rent,<br/> +That longeth to my lorde’s duety.”<br/> +“Ah! art thou then a bailiff?” “Yea,” quoth he.<br/> +He durste not for very filth and shame<br/> +Say that he was a Sompnour, for the name.<br/> +“De par dieux,” <5> quoth this yeoman, “leve* brother, *dear<br/> +Thou art a bailiff, and I am another.<br/> +I am unknowen, as in this country.<br/> +Of thine acquaintance I will praye thee,<br/> +And eke of brotherhood, if that thee list.* *please<br/> +I have gold and silver lying in my chest;<br/> +If that thee hap to come into our shire,<br/> +All shall be thine, right as thou wilt desire.”<br/> +“Grand mercy,”* quoth this Sompnour, “by my faith.” *great thanks<br/> +Each in the other’s hand his trothe lay’th,<br/> +For to be sworne brethren till they dey.* *die<6><br/> +In dalliance they ride forth and play. +</p> + +<p> +This Sompnour, which that was as full of jangles,* *chattering<br/> +As full of venom be those wariangles,* * butcher-birds <7><br/> +And ev’r inquiring upon every thing,<br/> +“Brother,” quoth he, “where is now your dwelling,<br/> +Another day if that I should you seech?”* *seek, visit<br/> +This yeoman him answered in soft speech;<br/> +Brother,” quoth he, “far in the North country,<8><br/> +Where as I hope some time I shall thee see<br/> +Ere we depart I shall thee so well wiss,* *inform<br/> +That of mine house shalt thou never miss.”<br/> +Now, brother,” quoth this Sompnour, “I you pray,<br/> +Teach me, while that we ride by the way,<br/> +(Since that ye be a bailiff as am I,)<br/> +Some subtilty, and tell me faithfully<br/> +For mine office how that I most may win.<br/> +And *spare not* for conscience or for sin, *conceal nothing*<br/> +But, as my brother, tell me how do ye.”<br/> +Now by my trothe, brother mine,” said he,<br/> +As I shall tell to thee a faithful tale:<br/> +My wages be full strait and eke full smale;<br/> +My lord is hard to me and dangerous,* *niggardly<br/> +And mine office is full laborious;<br/> +And therefore by extortion I live,<br/> +Forsooth I take all that men will me give.<br/> +Algate* by sleighte, or by violence, *whether<br/> +From year to year I win all my dispence;<br/> +I can no better tell thee faithfully.”<br/> +Now certes,” quoth this Sompnour, “so fare* I; *do<br/> +I spare not to take, God it wot,<br/> +*But if* it be too heavy or too hot. *unless*<br/> +What I may get in counsel privily,<br/> +No manner conscience of that have I.<br/> +N’ere* mine extortion, I might not live, *were it not for<br/> +For of such japes* will I not be shrive.** *tricks **confessed<br/> +Stomach nor conscience know I none;<br/> +I shrew* these shrifte-fathers** every one. *curse **confessors<br/> +Well be we met, by God and by St Jame.<br/> +But, leve brother, tell me then thy name,”<br/> +Quoth this Sompnour. Right in this meane while<br/> +This yeoman gan a little for to smile. +</p> + +<p> +“Brother,” quoth he, “wilt thou that I thee tell?<br/> +I am a fiend, my dwelling is in hell,<br/> +And here I ride about my purchasing,<br/> +To know where men will give me any thing.<br/> +*My purchase is th’ effect of all my rent* *what I can gain is my<br/> +Look how thou ridest for the same intent sole revenue*<br/> +To winne good, thou reckest never how,<br/> +Right so fare I, for ride will I now<br/> +Into the worlde’s ende for a prey.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah,” quoth this Sompnour, “benedicite! what say y’?<br/> +I weened ye were a yeoman truly. *thought<br/> +Ye have a manne’s shape as well as I<br/> +Have ye then a figure determinate<br/> +In helle, where ye be in your estate?”* *at home<br/> +“Nay, certainly,” quoth he, there have we none,<br/> +But when us liketh we can take us one,<br/> +Or elles make you seem* that we be shape *believe<br/> +Sometime like a man, or like an ape;<br/> +Or like an angel can I ride or go;<br/> +It is no wondrous thing though it be so,<br/> +A lousy juggler can deceive thee.<br/> +And pardie, yet can I more craft* than he.” *skill, cunning<br/> +“Why,” quoth the Sompnour, “ride ye then or gon<br/> +In sundry shapes and not always in one?”<br/> +“For we,” quoth he, “will us in such form make.<br/> +As most is able our prey for to take.”<br/> +“What maketh you to have all this labour?”<br/> +“Full many a cause, leve Sir Sompnour,”<br/> +Saide this fiend. “But all thing hath a time;<br/> +The day is short and it is passed prime,<br/> +And yet have I won nothing in this day;<br/> +I will intend* to winning, if I may, *apply myself<br/> +And not intend our thinges to declare:<br/> +For, brother mine, thy wit is all too bare<br/> +To understand, although I told them thee.<br/> +*But for* thou askest why laboure we: *because*<br/> +For sometimes we be Godde’s instruments<br/> +And meanes to do his commandements,<br/> +When that him list, upon his creatures,<br/> +In divers acts and in divers figures:<br/> +Withoute him we have no might certain,<br/> +If that him list to stande thereagain.* *against it<br/> +And sometimes, at our prayer have we leave<br/> +Only the body, not the soul, to grieve:<br/> +Witness on Job, whom that we did full woe,<br/> +And sometimes have we might on both the two, —<br/> +This is to say, on soul and body eke,<br/> +And sometimes be we suffer’d for to seek<br/> +Upon a man and do his soul unrest<br/> +And not his body, and all is for the best,<br/> +When he withstandeth our temptation,<br/> +It is a cause of his salvation,<br/> +Albeit that it was not our intent<br/> +He should be safe, but that we would him hent.* *catch<br/> +And sometimes be we servants unto man,<br/> +As to the archbishop Saint Dunstan,<br/> +And to th’apostle servant eke was I.”<br/> +“Yet tell me,” quoth this Sompnour, “faithfully,<br/> +Make ye you newe bodies thus alway<br/> +Of th’ elements?” The fiend answered, “Nay:<br/> +Sometimes we feign, and sometimes we arise<br/> +With deade bodies, in full sundry wise,<br/> +And speak as reas’nably, and fair, and well,<br/> +As to the Pythoness<9> did Samuel:<br/> +And yet will some men say it was not he.<br/> +I *do no force of* your divinity. *set no value upon*<br/> +But one thing warn I thee, I will not jape,* jest<br/> +Thou wilt *algates weet* how we be shape: *assuredly know*<br/> +Thou shalt hereafterward, my brother dear,<br/> +Come, where thee needeth not of me to lear.* *learn<br/> +For thou shalt by thine own experience<br/> +*Conne in a chair to rede of this sentence,* *learn to understand<br/> +Better than Virgil, while he was alive, what I have said*<br/> +Or Dante also. <10> Now let us ride blive,* *briskly<br/> +For I will holde company with thee,<br/> +Till it be so that thou forsake me.”<br/> +“Nay,” quoth this Sompnour, “that shall ne’er betide.<br/> +I am a yeoman, that is known full wide;<br/> +My trothe will I hold, as in this case;<br/> +For though thou wert the devil Satanas,<br/> +My trothe will I hold to thee, my brother,<br/> +As I have sworn, and each of us to other,<br/> +For to be true brethren in this case,<br/> +And both we go *abouten our purchase.* *seeking what we<br/> +Take thou thy part, what that men will thee give, may pick up*<br/> +And I shall mine, thus may we bothe live.<br/> +And if that any of us have more than other,<br/> +Let him be true, and part it with his brother.”<br/> +“I grante,” quoth the devil, “by my fay.”<br/> +And with that word they rode forth their way,<br/> +And right at th’ent’ring of the towne’s end,<br/> +To which this Sompnour shope* him for to wend,** *shaped **go<br/> +They saw a cart, that charged was with hay,<br/> +Which that a carter drove forth on his way.<br/> +Deep was the way, for which the carte stood:<br/> +The carter smote, and cried as he were wood,* *mad<br/> +“Heit Scot! heit Brok! what, spare ye for the stones?<br/> +The fiend (quoth he) you fetch body and bones,<br/> +As farforthly* as ever ye were foal’d, *sure<br/> +So muche woe as I have with you tholed.* *endured <11><br/> +The devil have all, horses, and cart, and hay.”<br/> +The Sompnour said, “Here shall we have a prey,”<br/> +And near the fiend he drew, *as nought ne were,* *as if nothing<br/> +Full privily, and rowned* in his ear: were the matter*<br/> +“Hearken, my brother, hearken, by thy faith, *whispered<br/> +Hearest thou not, how that the carter saith?<br/> +Hent* it anon, for he hath giv’n it thee, *seize<br/> +Both hay and cart, and eke his capels* three.” *horses <12><br/> +“Nay,” quoth the devil, “God wot, never a deal,* whit<br/> +It is not his intent, trust thou me well;<br/> +Ask him thyself, if thou not trowest* me, *believest<br/> +Or elles stint* a while and thou shalt see.” *stop<br/> +The carter thwack’d his horses on the croup,<br/> +And they began to drawen and to stoop.<br/> +“Heit now,” quoth he; “there, Jesus Christ you bless,<br/> +And all his handiwork, both more and less!<br/> +That was well twight,* mine owen liart,** boy, *pulled **grey<13><br/> +I pray God save thy body, and Saint Loy!<br/> +Now is my cart out of the slough, pardie.”<br/> +“Lo, brother,” quoth the fiend, “what told I thee?<br/> +Here may ye see, mine owen deare brother,<br/> +The churl spake one thing, but he thought another.<br/> +Let us go forth abouten our voyage;<br/> +Here win I nothing upon this carriage.” +</p> + +<p> +When that they came somewhat out of the town,<br/> +This Sompnour to his brother gan to rown;<br/> +“Brother,” quoth he, “here wons* an old rebeck,<14> *dwells<br/> +That had almost as lief to lose her neck.<br/> +As for to give a penny of her good.<br/> +I will have twelvepence, though that she be wood,* *mad<br/> +Or I will summon her to our office;<br/> +And yet, God wot, of her know I no vice.<br/> +But for thou canst not, as in this country,<br/> +Winne thy cost, take here example of me.”<br/> +This Sompnour clapped at the widow’s gate:<br/> +“Come out,” he said, “thou olde very trate;* *trot <15><br/> +I trow thou hast some friar or priest with thee.”<br/> +“Who clappeth?” said this wife; “benedicite,<br/> +God save you, Sir, what is your sweete will?”<br/> +“I have,” quoth he, “of summons here a bill.<br/> +Up* pain of cursing, looke that thou be *upon<br/> +To-morrow before our archdeacon’s knee,<br/> +To answer to the court of certain things.”<br/> +“Now Lord,” quoth she, “Christ Jesus, king of kings,<br/> +So wis1y* helpe me, *as I not may.* *surely *as I cannot*<br/> +I have been sick, and that full many a day.<br/> +I may not go so far,” quoth she, “nor ride,<br/> +But I be dead, so pricketh it my side.<br/> +May I not ask a libel, Sir Sompnour,<br/> +And answer there by my procuratour<br/> +To such thing as men would appose* me?” *accuse<br/> +“Yes,” quoth this Sompnour, “pay anon, let see,<br/> +Twelvepence to me, and I will thee acquit.<br/> +I shall no profit have thereby but lit:* *little<br/> +My master hath the profit and not I.<br/> +Come off, and let me ride hastily;<br/> +Give me twelvepence, I may no longer tarry.” +</p> + +<p> +“Twelvepence!” quoth she; “now lady Sainte Mary<br/> +So wisly* help me out of care and sin, *surely<br/> +This wide world though that I should it win,<br/> +No have I not twelvepence within my hold.<br/> +Ye know full well that I am poor and old;<br/> +*Kithe your almes* upon me poor wretch.” *show your charity*<br/> +“Nay then,” quoth he, “the foule fiend me fetch,<br/> +If I excuse thee, though thou should’st be spilt.”* *ruined<br/> +“Alas!” quoth she, “God wot, I have no guilt.”<br/> +“Pay me,” quoth he, “or, by the sweet Saint Anne,<br/> +As I will bear away thy newe pan<br/> +For debte, which thou owest me of old, —<br/> +When that thou madest thine husband cuckold, —<br/> +I paid at home for thy correction.”<br/> +“Thou liest,” quoth she, “by my salvation;<br/> +Never was I ere now, widow or wife,<br/> +Summon’d unto your court in all my life;<br/> +Nor never I was but of my body true.<br/> +Unto the devil rough and black of hue<br/> +Give I thy body and my pan also.”<br/> +And when the devil heard her curse so<br/> +Upon her knees, he said in this mannere;<br/> +“Now, Mabily, mine owen mother dear,<br/> +Is this your will in earnest that ye say?”<br/> +“The devil,” quoth she, “so fetch him ere he dey,* *die<br/> +And pan and all, but* he will him repent.” *unless<br/> +“Nay, olde stoat,* that is not mine intent,” *polecat<br/> +Quoth this Sompnour, “for to repente me<br/> +For any thing that I have had of thee;<br/> +I would I had thy smock and every cloth.”<br/> +“Now, brother,” quoth the devil, “be not wroth;<br/> +Thy body and this pan be mine by right.<br/> +Thou shalt with me to helle yet tonight,<br/> +Where thou shalt knowen of our privity* *secrets<br/> +More than a master of divinity.” +</p> + +<p> +And with that word the foule fiend him hent.* *seized<br/> +Body and soul, he with the devil went,<br/> +Where as the Sompnours have their heritage;<br/> +And God, that maked after his image<br/> +Mankinde, save and guide us all and some,<br/> +And let this Sompnour a good man become.<br/> +Lordings, I could have told you (quoth this Frere),<br/> +Had I had leisure for this Sompnour here,<br/> +After the text of Christ, and Paul, and John,<br/> +And of our other doctors many a one,<br/> +Such paines, that your heartes might agrise,* *be horrified<br/> +Albeit so, that no tongue may devise,* — *relate<br/> +Though that I might a thousand winters tell, —<br/> +The pains of thilke* cursed house of hell *that<br/> +But for to keep us from that cursed place<br/> +Wake we, and pray we Jesus, of his grace,<br/> +So keep us from the tempter, Satanas.<br/> +Hearken this word, beware as in this case.<br/> +The lion sits *in his await* alway *on the watch* <16><br/> +To slay the innocent, if that he may.<br/> +Disposen aye your heartes to withstond<br/> +The fiend that would you make thrall and bond;<br/> +He may not tempte you over your might,<br/> +For Christ will be your champion and your knight;<br/> +And pray, that this our Sompnour him repent<br/> +Of his misdeeds ere that the fiend him hent.* *seize +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Friar’s Tale +</p> + +<p> +1. Small tithers: people who did not pay their full tithes. Mr +Wright remarks that “the sermons of the friars in the fourteenth +century were most frequently designed to impress the ahsolute +duty of paying full tithes and offerings”. +</p> + +<p> +2. There might astert them no pecunial pain: they got off with +no mere pecuniary punishment. (Transcriber’s note: “Astert” +means “escape”. An alternative reading of this line is “there +might astert him no pecunial pain” i.e. no fine ever escaped him +(the archdeacon)) +</p> + +<p> +3. A dog for the bow: a dog attending a huntsman with bow +and arrow. +</p> + +<p> +4. Ribibe: the name of a musical instrument; applied to an old +woman because of the shrillness of her voice. +</p> + +<p> +5. De par dieux: by the gods. +</p> + +<p> +6. See note 12 to the Knight’s Tale. +</p> + +<p> +7. Wariangles: butcher-birds; which are very noisy and +ravenous, and tear in pieces the birds on which they prey; the +thorn on which they do this was said to become poisonous. +</p> + +<p> +8. Medieval legends located hell in the North. +</p> + +<p> +9. The Pythoness: the witch, or woman, possesed with a +prophesying spirit; from the Greek, “Pythia.” Chaucer of +course refers to the raising of Samuel’s spirit by the witch of +Endor. +</p> + +<p> +10. Dante and Virgil were both poets who had in fancy visited +Hell. +</p> + +<p> +11. Tholed: suffered, endured; “thole” is still used in Scotland in +the same sense. +</p> + +<p> +12. Capels: horses. See note 14 to the Reeve’s Tale. +</p> + +<p> +13. Liart: grey; elsewhere applied by Chaucer to the hairs of an +old man. So Burns, in the “Cotter’s Saturday Night,” speaks of +the gray temples of “the sire” — “His lyart haffets wearing thin +and bare.” +</p> + +<p> +14. Rebeck: a kind of fiddle; used like “ribibe,” as a nickname +for a shrill old scold. +</p> + +<p> +15. Trot; a contemptuous term for an old woman who has +trotted about much, or who moves with quick short steps. +</p> + +<p> +16. In his await: on the watch; French, “aux aguets.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap12"></a>THE SOMPNOUR’S TALE.</h2> + +<h3>THE PROLOGUE.</h3> + +<p> +The Sompnour in his stirrups high he stood,<br/> +Upon this Friar his hearte was so wood,* *furious<br/> +That like an aspen leaf he quoke* for ire: *quaked, trembled<br/> +“Lordings,” quoth he, “but one thing I desire;<br/> +I you beseech, that of your courtesy,<br/> +Since ye have heard this false Friar lie,<br/> +As suffer me I may my tale tell<br/> +This Friar boasteth that he knoweth hell,<br/> +And, God it wot, that is but little wonder,<br/> +Friars and fiends be but little asunder.<br/> +For, pardie, ye have often time heard tell,<br/> +How that a friar ravish’d was to hell<br/> +In spirit ones by a visioun,<br/> +And, as an angel led him up and down,<br/> +To shew him all the paines that there were,<br/> +In all the place saw he not a frere;<br/> +Of other folk he saw enough in woe.<br/> +Unto the angel spake the friar tho;* *then<br/> +‘Now, Sir,’ quoth he, ‘have friars such a grace,<br/> +That none of them shall come into this place?’<br/> +‘Yes’ quoth the angel; ‘many a millioun:’<br/> +And unto Satanas he led him down.<br/> +‘And now hath Satanas,’ said he, ‘a tail<br/> +Broader than of a carrack<1> is the sail.<br/> +Hold up thy tail, thou Satanas,’ quoth he,<br/> +‘Shew forth thine erse, and let the friar see<br/> +Where is the nest of friars in this place.’<br/> +And *less than half a furlong way of space* *immediately* <2><br/> +Right so as bees swarmen out of a hive,<br/> +Out of the devil’s erse there gan to drive<br/> +A twenty thousand friars *on a rout.* *in a crowd*<br/> +And throughout hell they swarmed all about,<br/> +And came again, as fast as they may gon,<br/> +And in his erse they creeped every one:<br/> +He clapt his tail again, and lay full still.<br/> +This friar, when he looked had his fill<br/> +Upon the torments of that sorry place,<br/> +His spirit God restored of his grace<br/> +Into his body again, and he awoke;<br/> +But natheless for feare yet he quoke,<br/> +So was the devil’s erse aye in his mind;<br/> +That is his heritage, *of very kind* *by his very nature*<br/> +God save you alle, save this cursed Frere;<br/> +My prologue will I end in this mannere. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Prologue to the Sompnour’s Tale +</p> + +<p> +1. Carrack: A great ship of burden used by the Portuguese; the +name is from the Italian, “cargare,” to load +</p> + +<p> +2. In less than half a furlong way of space: immediately; +literally, in less time than it takes to walk half a furlong (110 +yards). +</p> + +<h3>THE TALE.</h3> + +<p> +Lordings, there is in Yorkshire, as I guess,<br/> +A marshy country called Holderness,<br/> +In which there went a limitour about<br/> +To preach, and eke to beg, it is no doubt.<br/> +And so befell that on a day this frere<br/> +Had preached at a church in his mannere,<br/> +And specially, above every thing,<br/> +Excited he the people in his preaching<br/> +To trentals, <1> and to give, for Godde’s sake,<br/> +Wherewith men mighte holy houses make,<br/> +There as divine service is honour’d,<br/> +Not there as it is wasted and devour’d,<br/> +Nor where it needeth not for to be given,<br/> +As to possessioners, <2> that may liven,<br/> +Thanked be God, in wealth and abundance.<br/> +“Trentals,” said he, “deliver from penance<br/> +Their friendes’ soules, as well old as young,<br/> +Yea, when that they be hastily y-sung, —<br/> +Not for to hold a priest jolly and gay,<br/> +He singeth not but one mass in a day.<br/> +“Deliver out,” quoth he, “anon the souls.<br/> +Full hard it is, with flesh-hook or with owls* *awls<br/> +To be y-clawed, or to burn or bake: <3><br/> +Now speed you hastily, for Christe’s sake.”<br/> +And when this friar had said all his intent,<br/> +With qui cum patre<4> forth his way he went,<br/> +When folk in church had giv’n him what them lest;* *pleased<br/> +He went his way, no longer would he rest,<br/> +With scrip and tipped staff, *y-tucked high:* *with his robe tucked<br/> +In every house he gan to pore* and pry, up high* *peer<br/> +And begged meal and cheese, or elles corn.<br/> +His fellow had a staff tipped with horn,<br/> +A pair of tables* all of ivory, *writing tablets<br/> +And a pointel* y-polish’d fetisly,** *pencil **daintily<br/> +And wrote alway the names, as he stood;<br/> +Of all the folk that gave them any good,<br/> +Askaunce* that he woulde for them pray. *see note <5><br/> +“Give us a bushel wheat, or malt, or rey,* *rye<br/> +A Godde’s kichel,* or a trip** of cheese, *little cake<6> **scrap<br/> +Or elles what you list, we may not chese;* *choose<br/> +A Godde’s halfpenny, <6> or a mass penny;<br/> +Or give us of your brawn, if ye have any;<br/> +A dagon* of your blanket, leve dame, *remnant<br/> +Our sister dear, — lo, here I write your name,—<br/> +Bacon or beef, or such thing as ye find.”<br/> +A sturdy harlot* went them aye behind, *manservant <7><br/> +That was their hoste’s man, and bare a sack,<br/> +And what men gave them, laid it on his back<br/> +And when that he was out at door, anon<br/> +He *planed away* the names every one, *rubbed out*<br/> +That he before had written in his tables:<br/> +He served them with nifles* and with fables. — *silly tales +</p> + +<p> +“Nay, there thou liest, thou Sompnour,” quoth the Frere.<br/> +“Peace,” quoth our Host, “for Christe’s mother dear;<br/> +Tell forth thy tale, and spare it not at all.”<br/> +“So thrive I,” quoth this Sompnour, “so I shall.” — +</p> + +<p> +So long he went from house to house, till he<br/> +Came to a house, where he was wont to be<br/> +Refreshed more than in a hundred places<br/> +Sick lay the husband man, whose that the place is,<br/> +Bed-rid upon a couche low he lay:<br/> +*“Deus hic,”* quoth he; “O Thomas friend, good day,” *God be here*<br/> +Said this friar, all courteously and soft.<br/> +“Thomas,” quoth he, “God *yield it you,* full oft *reward you for*<br/> +Have I upon this bench fared full well,<br/> +Here have I eaten many a merry meal.”<br/> +And from the bench he drove away the cat,<br/> +And laid adown his potent* and his hat, *staff <8><br/> +And eke his scrip, and sat himself adown:<br/> +His fellow was y-walked into town<br/> +Forth with his knave,* into that hostelry *servant<br/> +Where as he shope* him that night to lie. *shaped, purposed +</p> + +<p> +“O deare master,” quoth this sicke man,<br/> +“How have ye fared since that March began?<br/> +I saw you not this fortenight and more.”<br/> +“God wot,” quoth he, “labour’d have I full sore;<br/> +And specially for thy salvation<br/> +Have I said many a precious orison,<br/> +And for mine other friendes, God them bless.<br/> +I have this day been at your church at mess,* *mass<br/> +And said sermon after my simple wit,<br/> +Not all after the text of Holy Writ;<br/> +For it is hard to you, as I suppose,<br/> +And therefore will I teach you aye the glose.* *gloss, comment<br/> +Glosing is a full glorious thing certain,<br/> +For letter slayeth, as we clerkes* sayn. *scholars<br/> +There have I taught them to be charitable,<br/> +And spend their good where it is reasonable.<br/> +And there I saw our dame; where is she?”<br/> +“Yonder I trow that in the yard she be,”<br/> +Saide this man; “and she will come anon.”<br/> +“Hey master, welcome be ye by Saint John,”<br/> +Saide this wife; “how fare ye heartily?” +</p> + +<p> +This friar riseth up full courteously,<br/> +And her embraceth *in his armes narrow,* *closely<br/> +And kiss’th her sweet, and chirketh as a sparrow<br/> +With his lippes: “Dame,” quoth he, “right well,<br/> +As he that is your servant every deal.* *whit<br/> +Thanked be God, that gave you soul and life,<br/> +Yet saw I not this day so fair a wife<br/> +In all the churche, God so save me,”<br/> +“Yea, God amend defaultes, Sir,” quoth she;<br/> +“Algates* welcome be ye, by my fay.” *always<br/> +“Grand mercy, Dame; that have I found alway.<br/> +But of your greate goodness, by your leave,<br/> +I woulde pray you that ye not you grieve,<br/> +I will with Thomas speak *a little throw:* *a little while*<br/> +These curates be so negligent and slow<br/> +To grope tenderly a conscience.<br/> +In shrift* and preaching is my diligence *confession<br/> +And study in Peter’s wordes and in Paul’s;<br/> +I walk and fishe Christian menne’s souls,<br/> +To yield our Lord Jesus his proper rent;<br/> +To spread his word is alle mine intent.”<br/> +“Now by your faith, O deare Sir,” quoth she,<br/> +“Chide him right well, for sainte charity.<br/> +He is aye angry as is a pismire,* *ant<br/> +Though that he have all that he can desire,<br/> +Though I him wrie* at night, and make him warm, *cover<br/> +And ov’r him lay my leg and eke mine arm,<br/> +He groaneth as our boar that lies in sty:<br/> +Other disport of him right none have I,<br/> +I may not please him in no manner case.”<br/> +“O Thomas, *je vous dis,* Thomas, Thomas, *I tell you*<br/> +This *maketh the fiend,* this must be amended. *is the devil’s work*<br/> +Ire is a thing that high God hath defended,* *forbidden<br/> +And thereof will I speak a word or two.”<br/> +“Now, master,” quoth the wife, “ere that I go,<br/> +What will ye dine? I will go thereabout.”<br/> +“Now, Dame,” quoth he, “je vous dis sans doute, <9><br/> +Had I not of a capon but the liver,<br/> +And of your white bread not but a shiver,* *thin slice<br/> +And after that a roasted pigge’s head,<br/> +(But I would that for me no beast were dead,)<br/> +Then had I with you homely suffisance.<br/> +I am a man of little sustenance.<br/> +My spirit hath its fost’ring in the Bible.<br/> +My body is aye so ready and penible* *painstaking<br/> +To wake,* that my stomach is destroy’d. *watch<br/> +I pray you, Dame, that ye be not annoy’d,<br/> +Though I so friendly you my counsel shew;<br/> +By God, I would have told it but to few.”<br/> +“Now, Sir,” quoth she, “but one word ere I go;<br/> +My child is dead within these weeke’s two,<br/> +Soon after that ye went out of this town.” +</p> + +<p> +“His death saw I by revelatioun,”<br/> +Said this friar, “at home in our dortour.* *dormitory <10><br/> +I dare well say, that less than half an hour<br/> +Mter his death, I saw him borne to bliss<br/> +In mine vision, so God me wiss.* *direct<br/> +So did our sexton, and our fermerere,* *infirmary-keeper<br/> +That have been true friars fifty year, —<br/> +They may now, God be thanked of his love,<br/> +Make their jubilee, and walk above.<12><br/> +And up I rose, and all our convent eke,<br/> +With many a teare trilling on my cheek,<br/> +Withoute noise or clattering of bells,<br/> +Te Deum was our song, and nothing else,<br/> +Save that to Christ I bade an orison,<br/> +Thanking him of my revelation.<br/> +For, Sir and Dame, truste me right well,<br/> +Our orisons be more effectuel,<br/> +And more we see of Christe’s secret things,<br/> +Than *borel folk,* although that they be kings. *laymen*<13><br/> +We live in povert’, and in abstinence,<br/> +And borel folk in riches and dispence<br/> +Of meat and drink, and in their foul delight.<br/> +We have this worlde’s lust* all in despight** * pleasure **contempt<br/> +Lazar and Dives lived diversely,<br/> +And diverse guerdon* hadde they thereby. *reward<br/> +Whoso will pray, he must fast and be clean,<br/> +And fat his soul, and keep his body lean<br/> +We fare as saith th’ apostle; cloth* and food *clothing<br/> +Suffice us, although they be not full good.<br/> +The cleanness and the fasting of us freres<br/> +Maketh that Christ accepteth our prayeres.<br/> +Lo, Moses forty days and forty night<br/> +Fasted, ere that the high God full of might<br/> +Spake with him in the mountain of Sinai:<br/> +With empty womb* of fasting many a day *stomach<br/> +Received he the lawe, that was writ<br/> +With Godde’s finger; and Eli,<14> well ye wit,* *know<br/> +In Mount Horeb, ere he had any speech<br/> +With highe God, that is our live’s leech,* *physician, healer<br/> +He fasted long, and was in contemplance.<br/> +Aaron, that had the temple in governance,<br/> +And eke the other priestes every one,<br/> +Into the temple when they shoulde gon<br/> +To praye for the people, and do service,<br/> +They woulde drinken in no manner wise<br/> +No drinke, which that might them drunken make,<br/> +But there in abstinence pray and wake,<br/> +Lest that they died: take heed what I say —<br/> +But* they be sober that for the people pray — *unless<br/> +Ware that, I say — no more: for it sufficeth.<br/> +Our Lord Jesus, as Holy Writ deviseth,* *narrates<br/> +Gave us example of fasting and prayeres:<br/> +Therefore we mendicants, we sely* freres, *simple, lowly<br/> +Be wedded to povert’ and continence,<br/> +To charity, humbless, and abstinence,<br/> +To persecution for righteousness,<br/> +To weeping, misericorde,* and to cleanness. *compassion<br/> +And therefore may ye see that our prayeres<br/> +(I speak of us, we mendicants, we freres),<br/> +Be to the highe God more acceptable<br/> +Than youres, with your feastes at your table.<br/> +From Paradise first, if I shall not lie,<br/> +Was man out chased for his gluttony,<br/> +And chaste was man in Paradise certain.<br/> +But hark now, Thomas, what I shall thee sayn;<br/> +I have no text of it, as I suppose,<br/> +But I shall find it in *a manner glose;* *a kind of comment*<br/> +That specially our sweet Lord Jesus<br/> +Spake this of friars, when he saide thus,<br/> +‘Blessed be they that poor in spirit be’<br/> +And so forth all the gospel may ye see,<br/> +Whether it be liker our profession,<br/> +Or theirs that swimmen in possession;<br/> +Fy on their pomp, and on their gluttony,<br/> +And on their lewedness! I them defy.<br/> +Me thinketh they be like Jovinian,<15><br/> +Fat as a whale, and walking as a swan;<br/> +All vinolent* as bottle in the spence;** *full of wine **store-room<br/> +Their prayer is of full great reverence;<br/> +When they for soules say the Psalm of David,<br/> +Lo, ‘Buf’ they say, Cor meum eructavit.<16><br/> +Who follow Christe’s gospel and his lore* *doctrine<br/> +But we, that humble be, and chaste, and pore,* *poor<br/> +Workers of Godde’s word, not auditours?* *hearers<br/> +Therefore right as a hawk *upon a sours* *rising*<br/> +Up springs into the air, right so prayeres<br/> +Of charitable and chaste busy freres<br/> +*Make their sours* to Godde’s eares two. *rise*<br/> +Thomas, Thomas, so may I ride or go,<br/> +And by that lord that called is Saint Ive,<br/> +*N’ere thou our brother, shouldest thou not thrive;* *see note <17>*<br/> +In our chapiter pray we day and night<br/> +To Christ, that he thee sende health and might,<br/> +Thy body for to *wielde hastily.* *soon be able to move freely* +</p> + +<p> +“God wot,” quoth he, “nothing thereof feel I;<br/> +So help me Christ, as I in fewe years<br/> +Have spended upon *divers manner freres* *friars of various sorts*<br/> +Full many a pound, yet fare I ne’er the bet;* *better<br/> +Certain my good have I almost beset:* *spent<br/> +Farewell my gold, for it is all ago.”* *gone<br/> +The friar answer’d, “O Thomas, dost thou so?<br/> +What needest thou diverse friars to seech?* *seek<br/> +What needeth him that hath a perfect leech,* *healer<br/> +To seeken other leeches in the town?<br/> +Your inconstance is your confusioun.<br/> +Hold ye then me, or elles our convent,<br/> +To praye for you insufficient?<br/> +Thomas, that jape* it is not worth a mite; *jest<br/> +Your malady is *for we have too lite.* *because we have<br/> +Ah, give that convent half a quarter oats; too little*<br/> +And give that convent four and twenty groats;<br/> +And give that friar a penny, and let him go!<br/> +Nay, nay, Thomas, it may no thing be so.<br/> +What is a farthing worth parted on twelve?<br/> +Lo, each thing that is oned* in himselve *made one, united<br/> +Is more strong than when it is y-scatter’d.<br/> +Thomas, of me thou shalt not be y-flatter’d,<br/> +Thou wouldest have our labour all for nought.<br/> +The highe God, that all this world hath wrought,<br/> +Saith, that the workman worthy is his hire<br/> +Thomas, nought of your treasure I desire<br/> +As for myself, but that all our convent<br/> +To pray for you is aye so diligent:<br/> +And for to builde Christe’s owen church.<br/> +Thomas, if ye will learne for to wirch,* *work<br/> +Of building up of churches may ye find<br/> +If it be good, in Thomas’ life of Ind.<18><br/> +Ye lie here full of anger and of ire,<br/> +With which the devil sets your heart on fire,<br/> +And chide here this holy innocent<br/> +Your wife, that is so meek and patient.<br/> +And therefore trow* me, Thomas, if thee lest,** *believe **please<br/> +Ne strive not with thy wife, as for the best.<br/> +And bear this word away now, by thy faith,<br/> +Touching such thing, lo, what the wise man saith:<br/> +‘Within thy house be thou no lion;<br/> +To thy subjects do none oppression;<br/> +Nor make thou thine acquaintance for to flee.’<br/> +And yet, Thomas, eftsoones* charge I thee, *again<br/> +Beware from ire that in thy bosom sleeps,<br/> +Ware from the serpent, that so slily creeps<br/> +Under the grass, and stingeth subtilly.<br/> +Beware, my son, and hearken patiently,<br/> +That twenty thousand men have lost their lives<br/> +For striving with their lemans* and their wives. *mistresses<br/> +Now since ye have so holy and meek a wife,<br/> +What needeth you, Thomas, to make strife?<br/> +There is, y-wis,* no serpent so cruel, *certainly<br/> +When men tread on his tail nor half so fell,* *fierce<br/> +As woman is, when she hath caught an ire;<br/> +Very* vengeance is then all her desire. *pure, only<br/> +Ire is a sin, one of the greate seven,<br/> +Abominable to the God of heaven,<br/> +And to himself it is destruction.<br/> +This every lewed* vicar and parson *ignorant<br/> +Can say, how ire engenders homicide;<br/> +Ire is in sooth th’ executor* of pride. *executioner<br/> +I could of ire you say so muche sorrow,<br/> +My tale shoulde last until to-morrow.<br/> +And therefore pray I God both day and ight,<br/> +An irous* man God send him little might. *passionate<br/> +It is great harm, and certes great pity<br/> +To set an irous man in high degree. +</p> + +<p> +“Whilom* there was an irous potestate,** *once **judge<19><br/> +As saith Senec, that during his estate* *term of office<br/> +Upon a day out rode knightes two;<br/> +And, as fortune would that it were so,<br/> +The one of them came home, the other not.<br/> +Anon the knight before the judge is brought,<br/> +That saide thus; ‘Thou hast thy fellow slain,<br/> +For which I doom thee to the death certain.’<br/> +And to another knight commanded he;<br/> +‘Go, lead him to the death, I charge thee.’<br/> +And happened, as they went by the way<br/> +Toward the place where as he should dey,* *die<br/> +The knight came, which men weened* had been dead *thought<br/> +Then thoughte they it was the beste rede* *counsel<br/> +To lead them both unto the judge again.<br/> +They saide, ‘Lord, the knight hath not y-slain<br/> +His fellow; here he standeth whole alive.’<br/> +‘Ye shall be dead,’ quoth he, ‘so may I thrive,<br/> +That is to say, both one, and two, and three.’<br/> +And to the firste knight right thus spake he:<br/> +‘I damned thee, thou must algate* be dead: *at all events<br/> +And thou also must needes lose thine head,<br/> +For thou the cause art why thy fellow dieth.’<br/> +And to the thirde knight right thus he sayeth,<br/> +‘Thou hast not done that I commanded thee.’<br/> +And thus he did do slay them alle three. +</p> + +<p> +Irous Cambyses was eke dronkelew,* *a drunkard<br/> +And aye delighted him to be a shrew.* *vicious, ill-tempered<br/> +And so befell, a lord of his meinie,* *suite<br/> +That loved virtuous morality,<br/> +Said on a day betwixt them two right thus:<br/> +‘A lord is lost, if he be vicious.<br/> +[An irous man is like a frantic beast,<br/> +In which there is of wisdom *none arrest*;] *no control*<br/> +And drunkenness is eke a foul record<br/> +Of any man, and namely* of a lord. *especially<br/> +There is full many an eye and many an ear<br/> +*Awaiting on* a lord, he knows not where. *watching<br/> +For Godde’s love, drink more attemperly:* *temperately<br/> +Wine maketh man to lose wretchedly<br/> +His mind, and eke his limbes every one.’<br/> +‘The reverse shalt thou see,’ quoth he, ‘anon,<br/> +And prove it by thine own experience,<br/> +That wine doth to folk no such offence.<br/> +There is no wine bereaveth me my might<br/> +Of hand, nor foot, nor of mine eyen sight.’<br/> +And for despite he dranke muche more<br/> +A hundred part* than he had done before, *times<br/> +And right anon this cursed irous wretch<br/> +This knighte’s sone let* before him fetch, *caused<br/> +Commanding him he should before him stand:<br/> +And suddenly he took his bow in hand,<br/> +And up the string he pulled to his ear,<br/> +And with an arrow slew the child right there.<br/> +‘Now whether have I a sicker* hand or non?’** *sure **not<br/> +Quoth he; ‘Is all my might and mind agone?<br/> +Hath wine bereaved me mine eyen sight?’<br/> +Why should I tell the answer of the knight?<br/> +His son was slain, there is no more to say.<br/> +Beware therefore with lordes how ye play,* *use freedom<br/> +Sing placebo;<20> and I shall if I can,<br/> +*But if* it be unto a poore man: *unless<br/> +To a poor man men should his vices tell,<br/> +But not t’ a lord, though he should go to hell.<br/> +Lo, irous Cyrus, thilke* Persian, *that<br/> +How he destroy’d the river of Gisen,<21><br/> +For that a horse of his was drowned therein,<br/> +When that he wente Babylon to win:<br/> +He made that the river was so small,<br/> +That women mighte wade it *over all.* *everywhere<br/> +Lo, what said he, that so well teache can,<br/> +‘Be thou no fellow to an irous man,<br/> +Nor with no wood* man walke by the way, *furious<br/> +Lest thee repent;’ I will no farther say. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, Thomas, leve* brother, leave thine ire, *dear<br/> +Thou shalt me find as just as is as squire;<br/> +Hold not the devil’s knife aye at thine heaat;<br/> +Thine anger doth thee all too sore smart;* *pain<br/> +But shew to me all thy confession.”<br/> +“Nay,” quoth the sicke man, “by Saint Simon<br/> +I have been shriven* this day of my curate; *confessed<br/> +I have him told all wholly mine estate.<br/> +Needeth no more to speak of it, saith he,<br/> +But if me list of mine humility.”<br/> +“Give me then of thy good to make our cloister,”<br/> +Quoth he, “for many a mussel and many an oyster,<br/> +When other men have been full well at ease,<br/> +Hath been our food, our cloister for to rese:* *raise, build<br/> +And yet, God wot, unneth* the foundement** *scarcely **foundation<br/> +Performed is, nor of our pavement<br/> +Is not a tile yet within our wones:* *habitation<br/> +By God, we owe forty pound for stones.<br/> +Now help, Thomas, for *him that harrow’d hell,* *Christ <22><br/> +For elles must we oure bookes sell,<br/> +And if ye lack our predication,<br/> +Then goes this world all to destruction.<br/> +For whoso from this world would us bereave,<br/> +So God me save, Thomas, by your leave,<br/> +He would bereave out of this world the sun<br/> +For who can teach and worken as we conne?* *know how to do<br/> +And that is not of little time (quoth he),<br/> +But since Elijah was, and Elisee,* *Elisha<br/> +Have friars been, that find I of record,<br/> +In charity, y-thanked be our Lord.<br/> +Now, Thomas, help for sainte charity.”<br/> +And down anon he set him on his knee,<br/> +The sick man waxed well-nigh wood* for ire, *mad<br/> +He woulde that the friar had been a-fire<br/> +With his false dissimulation.<br/> +“Such thing as is in my possession,”<br/> +Quoth he, “that may I give you and none other:<br/> +Ye say me thus, how that I am your brother.”<br/> +“Yea, certes,” quoth this friar, “yea, truste well;<br/> +I took our Dame the letter of our seal”<23><br/> +“Now well,” quoth he, “and somewhat shall I give<br/> +Unto your holy convent while I live;<br/> +And in thine hand thou shalt it have anon,<br/> +On this condition, and other none,<br/> +That thou depart* it so, my deare brother, *divide<br/> +That every friar have as much as other:<br/> +This shalt thou swear on thy profession,<br/> +Withoute fraud or cavillation.”* *quibbling<br/> +“I swear it,” quoth the friar, “upon my faith.”<br/> +And therewithal his hand in his he lay’th;<br/> +“Lo here my faith, in me shall be no lack.”<br/> +“Then put thine hand adown right by my back,”<br/> +Saide this man, “and grope well behind,<br/> +Beneath my buttock, there thou shalt find<br/> +A thing, that I have hid in privity.”<br/> +“Ah,” thought this friar, “that shall go with me.”<br/> +And down his hand he launched to the clift,* *cleft<br/> +In hope for to finde there a gift.<br/> +And when this sicke man felte this frere<br/> +About his taile groping there and here,<br/> +Amid his hand he let the friar a fart;<br/> +There is no capel* drawing in a cart, *horse<br/> +That might have let a fart of such a soun’.<br/> +The friar up start, as doth a wood* lioun: *fierce<br/> +“Ah, false churl,” quoth he, “for Godde’s bones,<br/> +This hast thou in despite done for the nones:* *on purpose<br/> +Thou shalt abie* this fart, if that I may.” *suffer for<br/> +His meinie,* which that heard of this affray, *servants<br/> +Came leaping in, and chased out the frere,<br/> +And forth he went with a full angry cheer* *countenance<br/> +And fetch’d his fellow, there as lay his store:<br/> +He looked as it were a wilde boar,<br/> +And grounde with his teeth, so was he wroth.<br/> +A sturdy pace down to the court he go’th,<br/> +Where as there wonn’d* a man of great honour, *dwelt<br/> +To whom that he was always confessour:<br/> +This worthy man was lord of that village.<br/> +This friar came, as he were in a rage,<br/> +Where as this lord sat eating at his board:<br/> +Unnethes* might the friar speak one word, *with difficulty<br/> +Till at the last he saide, “God you see.”* *save +</p> + +<p> +This lord gan look, and said, “Ben’dicite!<br/> +What? Friar John, what manner world is this?<br/> +I see well that there something is amiss;<br/> +Ye look as though the wood were full of thieves.<br/> +Sit down anon, and tell me what your grieve* is, *grievance, grief<br/> +And it shall be amended, if I may.”<br/> +“I have,” quoth he, “had a despite to-day,<br/> +God *yielde you,* adown in your village, *reward you<br/> +That in this world is none so poor a page,<br/> +That would not have abominatioun<br/> +Of that I have received in your town:<br/> +And yet ne grieveth me nothing so sore,<br/> +As that the olde churl, with lockes hoar,<br/> +Blasphemed hath our holy convent eke.”<br/> +“Now, master,” quoth this lord, “I you beseek” —<br/> +“No master, Sir,” quoth he, “but servitour,<br/> +Though I have had in schoole that honour. <24><br/> +God liketh not, that men us Rabbi call<br/> +Neither in market, nor in your large hall.”<br/> +*“No force,”* quoth he; “but tell me all your grief.” *no matter*<br/> +Sir,” quoth this friar, “an odious mischief<br/> +This day betid* is to mine order and me, *befallen<br/> +And so par consequence to each degree<br/> +Of holy churche, God amend it soon.”<br/> +“Sir,” quoth the lord, “ye know what is to doon:* *do<br/> +*Distemp’r you not,* ye be my confessour. *be not impatient*<br/> +Ye be the salt of th’ earth, and the savour;<br/> +For Godde’s love your patience now hold;<br/> +Tell me your grief.” And he anon him told<br/> +As ye have heard before, ye know well what.<br/> +The lady of the house aye stiller sat,<br/> +Till she had hearde what the friar said,<br/> +“Hey, Godde’s mother;” quoth she, “blissful maid,<br/> +Is there ought elles? tell me faithfully.”<br/> +“Madame,” quoth he, “how thinketh you thereby?”<br/> +“How thinketh me?” quoth she; “so God me speed,<br/> +I say, a churl hath done a churlish deed,<br/> +What should I say? God let him never the;* *thrive<br/> +His sicke head is full of vanity;<br/> +I hold him in *a manner phrenesy.”* *a sort of frenzy*<br/> +“Madame,” quoth he, “by God, I shall not lie,<br/> +But I in other wise may be awreke,* *revenged<br/> +I shall defame him *ov’r all there* I speak; *wherever<br/> +This false blasphemour, that charged me<br/> +To parte that will not departed be,<br/> +To every man alike, with mischance.” +</p> + +<p> +The lord sat still, as he were in a trance,<br/> +And in his heart he rolled up and down,<br/> +“How had this churl imaginatioun<br/> +To shewe such a problem to the frere.<br/> +Never ere now heard I of such mattere;<br/> +I trow* the Devil put it in his mind. *believe<br/> +In all arsmetrik* shall there no man find, *arithmetic<br/> +Before this day, of such a question.<br/> +Who shoulde make a demonstration,<br/> +That every man should have alike his part<br/> +As of the sound and savour of a fart?<br/> +O nice* proude churl, I shrew** his face. *foolish **curse<br/> +Lo, Sires,” quoth the lord, “with harde grace,<br/> +Who ever heard of such a thing ere now?<br/> +To every man alike? tell me how.<br/> +It is impossible, it may not be.<br/> +Hey nice* churl, God let him never the.** *foolish **thrive<br/> +The rumbling of a fart, and every soun’,<br/> +Is but of air reverberatioun,<br/> +And ever wasteth lite* and lite* away; *little<br/> +There is no man can deemen,* by my fay, *judge, decide<br/> +If that it were departed* equally. *divided<br/> +What? lo, my churl, lo yet how shrewedly* *impiously, wickedly<br/> +Unto my confessour to-day he spake;<br/> +I hold him certain a demoniac.<br/> +Now eat your meat, and let the churl go play,<br/> +Let him go hang himself a devil way!” +</p> + +<p> +Now stood the lorde’s squier at the board,<br/> +That carv’d his meat, and hearde word by word<br/> +Of all this thing, which that I have you said.<br/> +“My lord,” quoth he, “be ye not *evil paid,* *displeased*<br/> +I coulde telle, for a gowne-cloth,* *cloth for a gown*<br/> +To you, Sir Friar, so that ye be not wrot,<br/> +How that this fart should even* dealed be *equally<br/> +Among your convent, if it liked thee.”<br/> +“Tell,” quoth the lord, “and thou shalt have anon<br/> +A gowne-cloth, by God and by Saint John.”<br/> +“My lord,” quoth he, “when that the weather is fair,<br/> +Withoute wind, or perturbing of air,<br/> +Let* bring a cart-wheel here into this hall, cause*<br/> +But looke that it have its spokes all;<br/> +Twelve spokes hath a cart-wheel commonly;<br/> +And bring me then twelve friars, know ye why?<br/> +For thirteen is a convent as I guess;<25><br/> +Your confessor here, for his worthiness,<br/> +Shall *perform up* the number of his convent. *complete*<br/> +Then shall they kneel adown by one assent,<br/> +And to each spoke’s end, in this mannere,<br/> +Full sadly* lay his nose shall a frere; *carefully, steadily<br/> +Your noble confessor there, God him save,<br/> +Shall hold his nose upright under the nave.<br/> +Then shall this churl, with belly stiff and tought* *tight<br/> +As any tabour,* hither be y-brought; *drum<br/> +And set him on the wheel right of this cart<br/> +Upon the nave, and make him let a fart,<br/> +And ye shall see, on peril of my life,<br/> +By very proof that is demonstrative,<br/> +That equally the sound of it will wend,* *go<br/> +And eke the stink, unto the spokes’ end,<br/> +Save that this worthy man, your confessour’<br/> +(Because he is a man of great honour),<br/> +Shall have the firste fruit, as reason is;<br/> +The noble usage of friars yet it is,<br/> +The worthy men of them shall first be served,<br/> +And certainly he hath it well deserved;<br/> +He hath to-day taught us so muche good<br/> +With preaching in the pulpit where he stood,<br/> +That I may vouchesafe, I say for me,<br/> +He had the firste smell of fartes three;<br/> +And so would all his brethren hardily;<br/> +He beareth him so fair and holily.” +</p> + +<p> +The lord, the lady, and each man, save the frere,<br/> +Saide, that Jankin spake in this mattere<br/> +As well as Euclid, or as Ptolemy.<br/> +Touching the churl, they said that subtilty<br/> +And high wit made him speaken as he spake;<br/> +He is no fool, nor no demoniac.<br/> +And Jankin hath y-won a newe gown;<br/> +My tale is done, we are almost at town. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Sompnour’s Tale +</p> + +<p> +1. Trentals: The money given to the priests for performing thirty +masses for the dead, either in succession or on the anniversaries +of their death; also the masses themselves, which were very +profitable to the clergy. +</p> + +<p> +2. Possessioners: The regular religious orders, who had lands +and fixed revenues; while the friars, by their vows, had to +depend on voluntary contributions, though their need suggested +many modes of evading the prescription. +</p> + +<p> +3. In Chaucer’s day the most material notions about the tortures +of hell prevailed, and were made the most of by the clergy, who +preyed on the affection and fear of the survivors, through the +ingenious doctrine of purgatory. Old paintings and illuminations +represent the dead as torn by hooks, roasted in fires, boiled in +pots, and subjected to many other physical torments. +</p> + +<p> +4. Qui cum patre: “Who with the father”; the closing words of +the final benediction pronounced at Mass. +</p> + +<p> +5. Askaunce: The word now means sideways or asquint; here it +means “as if;” and its force is probably to suggest that the +second friar, with an ostentatious stealthiness, noted down the +names of the liberal, to make them believe that they would be +remembered in the holy beggars’ orisons. +</p> + +<p> +6. A Godde’s kichel/halfpenny: a little cake/halfpenny, given for +God’s sake. +</p> + +<p> +7. Harlot: hired servant; from Anglo-Saxon, “hyran,” to hire; +the word was commonly applied to males. +</p> + +<p> +8. Potent: staff; French, “potence,” crutch, gibbet. +</p> + +<p> +9. Je vous dis sans doute: French; “I tell you without doubt.” +</p> + +<p> +10. Dortour: dormitory; French, “dortoir.” +</p> + +<p> +12. The Rules of St Benedict granted peculiar honours and +immunities to monks who had lived fifty years — the jubilee +period — in the order. The usual reading of the words ending +the two lines is “loan” or “lone,” and “alone;” but to walk alone +does not seem to have been any peculiar privilege of a friar, +while the idea of precedence, or higher place at table and in +processions, is suggested by the reading in the text. +</p> + +<p> +13. Borel folk: laymen, people who are not learned; “borel” +was a kind of coarse cloth. +</p> + +<p> +14. Eli: Elijah (1 Kings, xix.) +</p> + +<p> +15. An emperor Jovinian was famous in the mediaeval legends +for his pride and luxury +</p> + +<p> +16. Cor meum eructavit: literally, “My heart has belched forth;” +in our translation, (i.e. the Authorised “King James” Version - +Transcriber) “My heart is inditing a goodly matter.” (Ps. xlv. +1.). “Buf” is meant to represent the sound of an eructation, and +to show the “great reverence” with which “those in possession,” +the monks of the rich monasteries, performed divine service, +</p> + +<p> +17. N’ere thou our brother, shouldest thou not thrive: if thou +wert not of our brotherhood, thou shouldst have no hope of +recovery. +</p> + +<p> +18. Thomas’ life of Ind: The life of Thomas of India - i.e. St. +Thomas the Apostle, who was said to have travelled to India. +</p> + +<p> +19. Potestate: chief magistrate or judge; Latin, “potestas;” +Italian, “podesta.” Seneca relates the story of Cornelius Piso; +“De Ira,” i. 16. +</p> + +<p> +20. Placebo: An anthem of the Roman Church, from Psalm +cxvi. 9, which in the Vulgate reads, “Placebo Domino in regione +vivorum” — “I will please the Lord in the land of the living” +</p> + +<p> +21. The Gysen: Seneca calls it the Gyndes; Sir John Mandeville +tells the story of the Euphrates. “Gihon,” was the name of one +of the four rivers of Eden (Gen. ii, 13). +</p> + +<p> +22. Him that harrowed Hell: Christ. See note 14 to the Reeve’s +Tale. +</p> + +<p> +23. Mr. Wright says that “it was a common practice to grant +under the conventual seal to benefactors and others a brotherly +participation in the spiritual good works of the convent, and in +their expected reward after death.” +</p> + +<p> +24. The friar had received a master’s degree. +</p> + +<p> +25. The regular number of monks or friars in a convent was +fixed at twelve, with a superior, in imitation of the apostles and +their Master; and large religious houses were held to consist of +so many convents. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap13"></a>THE CLERK’S TALE.</h2> + +<h3>THE PROLOGUE.</h3> + +<p> +“SIR Clerk of Oxenford,” our Hoste said,<br/> +“Ye ride as still and coy, as doth a maid<br/> +That were new spoused, sitting at the board:<br/> +This day I heard not of your tongue a word.<br/> +I trow ye study about some sophime:* *sophism<br/> +But Solomon saith, every thing hath time.<br/> +For Godde’s sake, be of *better cheer,* *livelier mien*<br/> +It is no time for to study here.<br/> +Tell us some merry tale, by your fay;* *faith<br/> +For what man that is entered in a play,<br/> +He needes must unto that play assent.<br/> +But preache not, as friars do in Lent,<br/> +To make us for our olde sinnes weep,<br/> +Nor that thy tale make us not to sleep.<br/> +Tell us some merry thing of aventures.<br/> +Your terms, your coloures, and your figures,<br/> +Keep them in store, till so be ye indite<br/> +High style, as when that men to kinges write.<br/> +Speake so plain at this time, I you pray,<br/> +That we may understande what ye say.” +</p> + +<p> +This worthy Clerk benignely answer’d;<br/> +“Hoste,” quoth he, “I am under your yerd,* *rod <1><br/> +Ye have of us as now the governance,<br/> +And therefore would I do you obeisance,<br/> +As far as reason asketh, hardily:* *boldly, truly<br/> +I will you tell a tale, which that I<br/> +Learn’d at Padova of a worthy clerk,<br/> +As proved by his wordes and his werk.<br/> +He is now dead, and nailed in his chest,<br/> +I pray to God to give his soul good rest.<br/> +Francis Petrarc’, the laureate poet,<2><br/> +Highte* this clerk, whose rhetoric so sweet *was called<br/> +Illumin’d all Itale of poetry,<br/> +As Linian <3> did of philosophy,<br/> +Or law, or other art particulere:<br/> +But death, that will not suffer us dwell here<br/> +But as it were a twinkling of an eye,<br/> +Them both hath slain, and alle we shall die. +</p> + +<p> +“But forth to tellen of this worthy man,<br/> +That taughte me this tale, as I began,<br/> +I say that first he with high style inditeth<br/> +(Ere he the body of his tale writeth)<br/> +A proem, in the which describeth he<br/> +Piedmont, and of Saluces <4> the country,<br/> +And speaketh of the Pennine hilles high,<br/> +That be the bounds of all West Lombardy:<br/> +And of Mount Vesulus in special,<br/> +Where as the Po out of a welle small<br/> +Taketh his firste springing and his source,<br/> +That eastward aye increaseth in his course<br/> +T’Emilia-ward, <5> to Ferraro, and Venice,<br/> +The which a long thing were to devise.* *narrate<br/> +And truely, as to my judgement,<br/> +Me thinketh it a thing impertinent,* *irrelevant<br/> +Save that he would conveye his mattere:<br/> +But this is the tale, which that ye shall hear.” +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Prologue to the Clerk’s Tale +</p> + +<p> +1. Under your yerd: under your rod; as the emblem of +government or direction. +</p> + +<p> +2. Francesco Petrarca, born 1304, died 1374; for his Latin epic +poem on the carer of Scipio, called “Africa,” he was solemnly +crowned with the poetic laurel in the Capitol of Rome, on +Easter-day of 1341. +</p> + +<p> +3. Linian: An eminent jurist and philosopher, now almost +forgotten, who died four or five years after Petrarch. +</p> + +<p> +4. Saluces: Saluzzo, a district of Savoy; its marquises were +celebrated during the Middle Ages. +</p> + +<p> +5. Emilia: The region called Aemilia, across which ran the Via<br/> +Aemilia — made by M. Aemilius Lepidus, who was consul at<br/> +Rome B.C. 187. It continued the Flaminian Way from<br/> +Ariminum (Rimini) across the Po at Placentia (Piacenza) to<br/> +Mediolanum (Milan), traversing Cisalpine Gaul. +</p> + +<h3>THE TALE.<1></h3> + +<p> +*Pars Prima.* *First Part* +</p> + +<p> +There is, right at the west side of Itale,<br/> +Down at the root of Vesulus<2> the cold,<br/> +A lusty* plain, abundant of vitaille;* *pleasant **victuals<br/> +There many a town and tow’r thou may’st behold,<br/> +That founded were in time of fathers old,<br/> +And many another delectable sight;<br/> +And Saluces this noble country hight. +</p> + +<p> +A marquis whilom lord was of that land,<br/> +As were his worthy elders* him before, *ancestors<br/> +And obedient, aye ready to his hand,<br/> +Were all his lieges, bothe less and more:<br/> +Thus in delight he liv’d, and had done yore,* *long<br/> +Belov’d and drad,* through favour of fortune, *held in reverence<br/> +Both of his lordes and of his commune.* *commonalty +</p> + +<p> +Therewith he was, to speak of lineage,<br/> +The gentilest y-born of Lombardy,<br/> +A fair person, and strong, and young of age,<br/> +And full of honour and of courtesy:<br/> +Discreet enough his country for to gie,* *guide, rule<br/> +Saving in some things that he was to blame;<br/> +And Walter was this younge lordes name. +</p> + +<p> +I blame him thus, that he consider’d not<br/> +In time coming what might him betide,<br/> +But on his present lust* was all his thought, *pleasure<br/> +And for to hawk and hunt on every side;<br/> +Well nigh all other cares let he slide,<br/> +And eke he would (that was the worst of all)<br/> +Wedde no wife for aught that might befall. +</p> + +<p> +Only that point his people bare so sore,<br/> +That flockmel* on a day to him they went, *in a body<br/> +And one of them, that wisest was of lore<br/> +(Or elles that the lord would best assent<br/> +That he should tell him what the people meant,<br/> +Or elles could he well shew such mattere),<br/> +He to the marquis said as ye shall hear. +</p> + +<p> +“O noble Marquis! your humanity<br/> +Assureth us and gives us hardiness,<br/> +As oft as time is of necessity,<br/> +That we to you may tell our heaviness:<br/> +Accepte, Lord, now of your gentleness,<br/> +What we with piteous heart unto you plain,* *complain of<br/> +And let your ears my voice not disdain. +</p> + +<p> +“All* have I nought to do in this mattere *although<br/> +More than another man hath in this place,<br/> +Yet forasmuch as ye, my Lord so dear,<br/> +Have always shewed me favour and grace,<br/> +I dare the better ask of you a space<br/> +Of audience, to shewen our request,<br/> +And ye, my Lord, to do right *as you lest.* *as pleaseth you* +</p> + +<p> +“For certes, Lord, so well us like you<br/> +And all your work, and ev’r have done, that we<br/> +Ne coulde not ourselves devise how<br/> +We mighte live in more felicity:<br/> +Save one thing, Lord, if that your will it be,<br/> +That for to be a wedded man you lest;<br/> +Then were your people *in sovereign hearte’s rest.* *completely +</p> + +<p> +“Bowe your neck under the blissful yoke<br/> +Of sovereignty, and not of service,<br/> +Which that men call espousal or wedlock:<br/> +And thinke, Lord, among your thoughtes wise,<br/> +How that our dayes pass in sundry wise;<br/> +For though we sleep, or wake, or roam, or ride,<br/> +Aye fleeth time, it will no man abide. +</p> + +<p> +“And though your greene youthe flow’r as yet,<br/> +In creepeth age always as still as stone,<br/> +And death menaceth every age, and smit* *smiteth<br/> +In each estate, for there escapeth none:<br/> +And all so certain as we know each one<br/> +That we shall die, as uncertain we all<br/> +Be of that day when death shall on us fall. +</p> + +<p> +“Accepte then of us the true intent,* *mind, desire<br/> +That never yet refused youre hest,* *command<br/> +And we will, Lord, if that ye will assent,<br/> +Choose you a wife, in short time at the lest,* *least<br/> +Born of the gentilest and of the best<br/> +Of all this land, so that it ought to seem<br/> +Honour to God and you, as we can deem. +</p> + +<p> +“Deliver us out of all this busy dread,* *doubt<br/> +And take a wife, for highe Godde’s sake:<br/> +For if it so befell, as God forbid,<br/> +That through your death your lineage should slake,* *become extinct<br/> +And that a strange successor shoulde take<br/> +Your heritage, oh! woe were us on live:* *alive<br/> +Wherefore we pray you hastily to wive.” +</p> + +<p> +Their meeke prayer and their piteous cheer<br/> +Made the marquis for to have pity.<br/> +“Ye will,” quoth he, “mine owen people dear,<br/> +To that I ne’er ere* thought constraine me. *before<br/> +I me rejoiced of my liberty,<br/> +That seldom time is found in rnarriage;<br/> +Where I was free, I must be in servage!* *servitude +</p> + +<p> +“But natheless I see your true intent,<br/> +And trust upon your wit, and have done aye:<br/> +Wherefore of my free will I will assent<br/> +To wedde me, as soon as e’er I may.<br/> +But whereas ye have proffer’d me to-day<br/> +To choose me a wife, I you release<br/> +That choice, and pray you of that proffer cease. +</p> + +<p> +“For God it wot, that children often been<br/> +Unlike their worthy elders them before,<br/> +Bounte* comes all of God, not of the strene** *goodness<br/> +Of which they be engender’d and y-bore: **stock, race<br/> +I trust in Godde’s bounte, and therefore<br/> +My marriage, and mine estate and rest,<br/> +I *him betake;* he may do as him lest. *commend to him +</p> + +<p> +“Let me alone in choosing of my wife;<br/> +That charge upon my back I will endure:<br/> +But I you pray, and charge upon your life,<br/> +That what wife that I take, ye me assure<br/> +To worship* her, while that her life may dure, *honour<br/> +In word and work both here and elleswhere,<br/> +As she an emperore’s daughter were. +</p> + +<p> +“And farthermore this shall ye swear, that ye<br/> +Against my choice shall never grudge* nor strive. *murmur<br/> +For since I shall forego my liberty<br/> +At your request, as ever may I thrive,<br/> +Where as mine heart is set, there will I live<br/> +And but* ye will assent in such mannere, *unless<br/> +I pray you speak no more of this mattere.” +</p> + +<p> +With heartly will they sworen and assent<br/> +To all this thing, there said not one wight nay:<br/> +Beseeching him of grace, ere that they went,<br/> +That he would grante them a certain day<br/> +Of his espousal, soon as e’er he rnay,<br/> +For yet always the people somewhat dread* *were in fear or doubt<br/> +Lest that the marquis woulde no wife wed. +</p> + +<p> +He granted them a day, such as him lest,<br/> +On which he would be wedded sickerly,* *certainly<br/> +And said he did all this at their request;<br/> +And they with humble heart full buxomly,* *obediently <3><br/> +Kneeling upon their knees full reverently,<br/> +Him thanked all; and thus they have an end<br/> +Of their intent, and home again they wend. +</p> + +<p> +And hereupon he to his officers<br/> +Commanded for the feaste to purvey.* *provide<br/> +And to his privy knightes and squiers<br/> +Such charge he gave, as him list on them lay:<br/> +And they to his commandement obey,<br/> +And each of them doth all his diligence<br/> +To do unto the feast all reverence. +</p> + +<p> +*Pars Secunda* *Second Part* +</p> + +<p> +Not far from thilke* palace honourable, *that<br/> +Where as this marquis shope* his marriage, *prepared; resolved on<br/> +There stood a thorp,* of sighte delectable, *hamlet<br/> +In which the poore folk of that village<br/> +Hadde their beastes and their harbourage,* *dwelling<br/> +And of their labour took their sustenance,<br/> +After the earthe gave them abundance. +</p> + +<p> +Among this poore folk there dwelt a man<br/> +Which that was holden poorest of them all;<br/> +But highe God sometimes sende can<br/> +His grace unto a little ox’s stall;<br/> +Janicola men of that thorp him call.<br/> +A daughter had he, fair enough to sight,<br/> +And Griseldis this younge maiden hight. +</p> + +<p> +But for to speak of virtuous beauty,<br/> +Then was she one the fairest under sun:<br/> +Full poorely y-foster’d up was she;<br/> +No *likerous lust* was in her heart y-run; *luxurious pleasure*<br/> +Well ofter of the well than of the tun<br/> +She drank, <4> and, for* she woulde virtue please *because<br/> +She knew well labour, but no idle ease. +</p> + +<p> +But though this maiden tender were of age;<br/> +Yet in the breast of her virginity<br/> +There was inclos’d a *sad and ripe corage;* *steadfast and mature<br/> +And in great reverence and charity spirit*<br/> +Her olde poore father foster’d she.<br/> +A few sheep, spinning, on the field she kept,<br/> +She woulde not be idle till she slept. +</p> + +<p> +And when she homeward came, she would bring<br/> +Wortes,* and other herbes, times oft, *plants, cabbages<br/> +The which she shred and seeth’d for her living,<br/> +And made her bed full hard, and nothing soft:<br/> +And aye she kept her father’s life on loft* *up, aloft<br/> +With ev’ry obeisance and diligence,<br/> +That child may do to father’s reverence. +</p> + +<p> +Upon Griselda, this poor creature,<br/> +Full often sithes* this marquis set his eye, *times<br/> +As he on hunting rode, paraventure:* *by chance<br/> +And when it fell that he might her espy,<br/> +He not with wanton looking of folly<br/> +His eyen cast on her, but in sad* wise *serious<br/> +Upon her cheer* he would him oft advise;** *countenance **consider +</p> + +<p> +Commending in his heart her womanhead,<br/> +And eke her virtue, passing any wight<br/> +Of so young age, as well in cheer as deed.<br/> +For though the people have no great insight<br/> +In virtue, he considered full right<br/> +Her bounte,* and disposed that he would *goodness<br/> +Wed only her, if ever wed he should. +</p> + +<p> +The day of wedding came, but no wight can<br/> +Telle what woman that it shoulde be;<br/> +For which marvail wonder’d many a man,<br/> +And saide, when they were in privity,<br/> +“Will not our lord yet leave his vanity?<br/> +Will he not wed? Alas, alas the while!<br/> +Why will he thus himself and us beguile?” +</p> + +<p> +But natheless this marquis had *done make* *caused to be made*<br/> +Of gemmes, set in gold and in azure,<br/> +Brooches and ringes, for Griselda’s sake,<br/> +And of her clothing took he the measure<br/> +Of a maiden like unto her stature,<br/> +And eke of other ornamentes all<br/> +That unto such a wedding shoulde fall.* *befit +</p> + +<p> +The time of undern* of the same day *evening <5><br/> +Approached, that this wedding shoulde be,<br/> +And all the palace put was in array,<br/> +Both hall and chamber, each in its degree,<br/> +Houses of office stuffed with plenty<br/> +There may’st thou see of dainteous vitaille,* *victuals, provisions<br/> +That may be found, as far as lasts Itale. +</p> + +<p> +This royal marquis, richely array’d,<br/> +Lordes and ladies in his company,<br/> +The which unto the feaste were pray’d,<br/> +And of his retinue the bach’lery,<br/> +With many a sound of sundry melody,<br/> +Unto the village, of the which I told,<br/> +In this array the right way did they hold. +</p> + +<p> +Griseld’ of this (God wot) full innocent,<br/> +That for her shapen* was all this array, *prepared<br/> +To fetche water at a well is went,<br/> +And home she came as soon as e’er she may.<br/> +For well she had heard say, that on that day<br/> +The marquis shoulde wed, and, if she might,<br/> +She fain would have seen somewhat of that sight. +</p> + +<p> +She thought, “I will with other maidens stand,<br/> +That be my fellows, in our door, and see<br/> +The marchioness; and therefore will I fand* *strive<br/> +To do at home, as soon as it may be,<br/> +The labour which belongeth unto me,<br/> +And then I may at leisure her behold,<br/> +If she this way unto the castle hold.” +</p> + +<p> +And as she would over the threshold gon,<br/> +The marquis came and gan for her to call,<br/> +And she set down her water-pot anon<br/> +Beside the threshold, in an ox’s stall,<br/> +And down upon her knees she gan to fall,<br/> +And with sad* countenance kneeled still, *steady<br/> +Till she had heard what was the lorde’s will. +</p> + +<p> +The thoughtful marquis spake unto the maid<br/> +Full soberly, and said in this mannere:<br/> +“Where is your father, Griseldis?” he said.<br/> +And she with reverence, *in humble cheer,* *with humble air*<br/> +Answered, “Lord, he is all ready here.”<br/> +And in she went withoute longer let* *delay<br/> +And to the marquis she her father fet.* *fetched +</p> + +<p> +He by the hand then took the poore man,<br/> +And saide thus, when he him had aside:<br/> +“Janicola, I neither may nor can<br/> +Longer the pleasance of mine hearte hide;<br/> +If that thou vouchesafe, whatso betide,<br/> +Thy daughter will I take, ere that I wend,* *go<br/> +As for my wife, unto her life’s end. +</p> + +<p> +“Thou lovest me, that know I well certain,<br/> +And art my faithful liegeman y-bore,* *born<br/> +And all that liketh me, I dare well sayn<br/> +It liketh thee; and specially therefore<br/> +Tell me that point, that I have said before, —<br/> +If that thou wilt unto this purpose draw,<br/> +To take me as for thy son-in-law.” +</p> + +<p> +This sudden case* the man astonied so, *event<br/> +That red he wax’d, abash’d,* and all quaking *amazed<br/> +He stood; unnethes* said he wordes mo’, *scarcely<br/> +But only thus; “Lord,” quoth he, “my willing<br/> +Is as ye will, nor against your liking<br/> +I will no thing, mine owen lord so dear;<br/> +Right as you list governe this mattere.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then will I,” quoth the marquis softely,<br/> +“That in thy chamber I, and thou, and she,<br/> +Have a collation;* and know’st thou why? *conference<br/> +For I will ask her, if her will it be<br/> +To be my wife, and rule her after me:<br/> +And all this shall be done in thy presence,<br/> +I will not speak out of thine audience.”* *hearing +</p> + +<p> +And in the chamber while they were about<br/> +The treaty, which ye shall hereafter hear,<br/> +The people came into the house without,<br/> +And wonder’d them in how honest mannere<br/> +And tenderly she kept her father dear;<br/> +But utterly Griseldis wonder might,<br/> +For never erst* ne saw she such a sight. *before +</p> + +<p> +No wonder is though that she be astoned,* *astonished<br/> +To see so great a guest come in that place,<br/> +She never was to no such guestes woned;* *accustomed, wont<br/> +For which she looked with full pale face.<br/> +But shortly forth this matter for to chase,* *push on, pursue<br/> +These are the wordes that the marquis said<br/> +To this benigne, very,* faithful maid. *true <6> +</p> + +<p> +“Griseld’,” he said, “ye shall well understand,<br/> +It liketh to your father and to me<br/> +That I you wed, and eke it may so stand,<br/> +As I suppose ye will that it so be:<br/> +But these demandes ask I first,” quoth he,<br/> +“Since that it shall be done in hasty wise;<br/> +Will ye assent, or elles you advise?* *consider +</p> + +<p> +“I say this, be ye ready with good heart<br/> +To all my lust,* and that I freely may, *pleasure<br/> +As me best thinketh, *do you* laugh or smart, *cause you to*<br/> +And never ye to grudge,* night nor day, *murmur<br/> +And eke when I say Yea, ye say not Nay,<br/> +Neither by word, nor frowning countenance?<br/> +Swear this, and here I swear our alliance.” +</p> + +<p> +Wond’ring upon this word, quaking for dread,<br/> +She saide; “Lord, indigne and unworthy<br/> +Am I to this honour that ye me bede,* *offer<br/> +But as ye will yourself, right so will I:<br/> +And here I swear, that never willingly<br/> +In word or thought I will you disobey,<br/> +For to be dead; though me were loth to dey.”* *die +</p> + +<p> +“This is enough, Griselda mine,” quoth he.<br/> +And forth he went with a full sober cheer,<br/> +Out at the door, and after then came she,<br/> +And to the people he said in this mannere:<br/> +“This is my wife,” quoth he, “that standeth here.<br/> +Honoure her, and love her, I you pray,<br/> +Whoso me loves; there is no more to say.” +</p> + +<p> +And, for that nothing of her olde gear<br/> +She shoulde bring into his house, he bade<br/> +That women should despoile* her right there; *strip<br/> +Of which these ladies were nothing glad<br/> +To handle her clothes wherein she was clad:<br/> +But natheless this maiden bright of hue<br/> +From foot to head they clothed have all new. +</p> + +<p> +Her haires have they comb’d that lay untress’d* *loose<br/> +Full rudely, and with their fingers small<br/> +A crown upon her head they have dress’d,<br/> +And set her full of nouches <7> great and small:<br/> +Of her array why should I make a tale?<br/> +Unneth* the people her knew for her fairness, *scarcely<br/> +When she transmuted was in such richess. +</p> + +<p> +The marquis hath her spoused with a ring<br/> +Brought for the same cause, and then her set<br/> +Upon a horse snow-white, and well ambling,<br/> +And to his palace, ere he longer let* *delayed<br/> +With joyful people, that her led and met,<br/> +Conveyed her; and thus the day they spend<br/> +In revel, till the sunne gan descend. +</p> + +<p> +And, shortly forth this tale for to chase,<br/> +I say, that to this newe marchioness<br/> +God hath such favour sent her of his grace,<br/> +That it ne seemed not by likeliness<br/> +That she was born and fed in rudeness, —<br/> +As in a cot, or in an ox’s stall, —<br/> +But nourish’d in an emperore’s hall. +</p> + +<p> +To every wight she waxen* is so dear *grown<br/> +And worshipful, that folk where she was born,<br/> +That from her birthe knew her year by year,<br/> +*Unnethes trowed* they, but durst have sworn, *scarcely believed*<br/> +That to Janicol’ of whom I spake before,<br/> +She was not daughter, for by conjecture<br/> +Them thought she was another creature. +</p> + +<p> +For though that ever virtuous was she,<br/> +She was increased in such excellence<br/> +Of thewes* good, y-set in high bounte, *qualities<br/> +And so discreet, and fair of eloquence,<br/> +So benign, and so digne* of reverence, *worthy<br/> +And coulde so the people’s heart embrace,<br/> +That each her lov’d that looked on her face. +</p> + +<p> +Not only of Saluces in the town<br/> +Published was the bounte of her name,<br/> +But eke besides in many a regioun;<br/> +If one said well, another said the same:<br/> +So spread of here high bounte the fame,<br/> +That men and women, young as well as old,<br/> +Went to Saluces, her for to behold. +</p> + +<p> +Thus Walter lowly, — nay, but royally,-<br/> +Wedded with fortn’ate honestete,* *virtue<br/> +In Godde’s peace lived full easily<br/> +At home, and outward grace enough had he:<br/> +And, for he saw that under low degree<br/> +Was honest virtue hid, the people him held<br/> +A prudent man, and that is seen full seld’.* *seldom +</p> + +<p> +Not only this Griseldis through her wit<br/> +*Couth all the feat* of wifely homeliness, *knew all the duties*<br/> +But eke, when that the case required it,<br/> +The common profit coulde she redress:<br/> +There n’as discord, rancour, nor heaviness<br/> +In all the land, that she could not appease,<br/> +And wisely bring them all in rest and ease +</p> + +<p> +Though that her husband absent were or non,* *not<br/> +If gentlemen or other of that country,<br/> +Were wroth,* she woulde bringe them at one, *at feud<br/> +So wise and ripe wordes hadde she,<br/> +And judgement of so great equity,<br/> +That she from heaven sent was, as men wend,* *weened, imagined<br/> +People to save, and every wrong t’amend +</p> + +<p> +Not longe time after that this Griseld’<br/> +Was wedded, she a daughter had y-bore;<br/> +All she had lever* borne a knave** child, *rather **boy<br/> +Glad was the marquis and his folk therefore;<br/> +For, though a maiden child came all before,<br/> +She may unto a knave child attain<br/> +By likelihood, since she is not barren. +</p> + +<p> +*Pars Tertia.* *Third Part* +</p> + +<p> +There fell, as falleth many times mo’,<br/> +When that his child had sucked but a throw,* little while<br/> +This marquis in his hearte longed so<br/> +To tempt his wife, her sadness* for to know, *steadfastness<br/> +That he might not out of his hearte throw<br/> +This marvellous desire his wife t’asssay;* *try<br/> +Needless,* God wot, he thought her to affray.** *without cause<br/> + **alarm, disturb<br/> +He had assayed her anough before,<br/> +And found her ever good; what needed it<br/> +Her for to tempt, and always more and more?<br/> +Though some men praise it for a subtle wit,<br/> +But as for me, I say that *evil it sit* *it ill became him*<br/> +T’assay a wife when that it is no need,<br/> +And putte her in anguish and in dread. +</p> + +<p> +For which this marquis wrought in this mannere:<br/> +He came at night alone there as she lay,<br/> +With sterne face and with full troubled cheer,<br/> +And saide thus; “Griseld’,” quoth he “that day<br/> +That I you took out of your poor array,<br/> +And put you in estate of high nobless,<br/> +Ye have it not forgotten, as I guess. +</p> + +<p> +“I say, Griseld’, this present dignity,<br/> +In which that I have put you, as I trow* *believe<br/> +Maketh you not forgetful for to be<br/> +That I you took in poor estate full low,<br/> +For any weal you must yourselfe know.<br/> +Take heed of every word that I you say,<br/> +There is no wight that hears it but we tway.* *two +</p> + +<p> +“Ye know yourself well how that ye came here<br/> +Into this house, it is not long ago;<br/> +And though to me ye be right lefe* and dear, *loved<br/> +Unto my gentles* ye be nothing so: *nobles, gentlefolk<br/> +They say, to them it is great shame and woe<br/> +For to be subject, and be in servage,<br/> +To thee, that born art of small lineage. +</p> + +<p> +“And namely* since thy daughter was y-bore *especially<br/> +These wordes have they spoken doubteless;<br/> +But I desire, as I have done before,<br/> +To live my life with them in rest and peace:<br/> +I may not in this case be reckeless;<br/> +I must do with thy daughter for the best,<br/> +Not as I would, but as my gentles lest.* *please +</p> + +<p> +“And yet, God wot, this is full loth* to me: *odious<br/> +But natheless withoute your weeting* *knowing<br/> +I will nought do; but this will I,” quoth he,<br/> +“That ye to me assenten in this thing.<br/> +Shew now your patience in your working,<br/> +That ye me hight* and swore in your village *promised<br/> +The day that maked was our marriage.” +</p> + +<p> +When she had heard all this, she not amev’d* *changed<br/> +Neither in word, in cheer, nor countenance<br/> +(For, as it seemed, she was not aggriev’d);<br/> +She saide; “Lord, all lies in your pleasance,<br/> +My child and I, with hearty obeisance<br/> +Be youres all, and ye may save or spill* *destroy<br/> +Your owen thing: work then after your will. +</p> + +<p> +“There may no thing, so God my soule save,<br/> +*Like to* you, that may displease me: *be pleasing*<br/> +Nor I desire nothing for to have,<br/> +Nor dreade for to lose, save only ye:<br/> +This will is in mine heart, and aye shall be,<br/> +No length of time, nor death, may this deface,<br/> +Nor change my corage* to another place.” *spirit, heart +</p> + +<p> +Glad was the marquis for her answering,<br/> +But yet he feigned as he were not so;<br/> +All dreary was his cheer and his looking<br/> +When that he should out of the chamber go.<br/> +Soon after this, a furlong way or two,<8><br/> +He privily hath told all his intent<br/> +Unto a man, and to his wife him sent. +</p> + +<p> +A *manner sergeant* was this private* man, *kind of squire*<br/> +The which he faithful often founden had *discreet<br/> +In thinges great, and eke such folk well can<br/> +Do execution in thinges bad:<br/> +The lord knew well, that he him loved and drad.* *dreaded<br/> +And when this sergeant knew his lorde’s will,<br/> +Into the chamber stalked he full still. +</p> + +<p> +“Madam,” he said, “ye must forgive it me,<br/> +Though I do thing to which I am constrain’d;<br/> +Ye be so wise, that right well knowe ye<br/> +*That lordes’ hestes may not be y-feign’d;* *see note <9>*<br/> +They may well be bewailed and complain’d,<br/> +But men must needs unto their lust* obey; *pleasure<br/> +And so will I, there is no more to say. +</p> + +<p> +“This child I am commanded for to take.”<br/> +And spake no more, but out the child he hent* *seized<br/> +Dispiteously,* and gan a cheer** to make *unpityingly **show, aspect<br/> +As though he would have slain it ere he went.<br/> +Griseldis must all suffer and consent:<br/> +And as a lamb she sat there meek and still,<br/> +And let this cruel sergeant do his will +</p> + +<p> +Suspicious* was the diffame** of this man, *ominous **evil reputation<br/> +Suspect his face, suspect his word also,<br/> +Suspect the time in which he this began:<br/> +Alas! her daughter, that she loved so,<br/> +She weened* he would have it slain right tho,** *thought **then<br/> +But natheless she neither wept nor siked,* *sighed<br/> +Conforming her to what the marquis liked. +</p> + +<p> +But at the last to speake she began,<br/> +And meekly she unto the sergeant pray’d,<br/> +So as he was a worthy gentle man,<br/> +That she might kiss her child, ere that it died:<br/> +And in her barme* this little child she laid, *lap, bosom<br/> +With full sad face, and gan the child to bless,* *cross<br/> +And lulled it, and after gan it kiss. +</p> + +<p> +And thus she said in her benigne voice:<br/> +Farewell, my child, I shall thee never see;<br/> +But since I have thee marked with the cross,<br/> +Of that father y-blessed may’st thou be<br/> +That for us died upon a cross of tree:<br/> +Thy soul, my little child, I *him betake,* *commit unto him*<br/> +For this night shalt thou dien for my sake. +</p> + +<p> +I trow* that to a norice** in this case *believe **nurse<br/> +It had been hard this ruthe* for to see: *pitiful sight<br/> +Well might a mother then have cried, “Alas!”<br/> +But natheless so sad steadfast was she,<br/> +That she endured all adversity,<br/> +And to the sergeant meekely she said,<br/> +“Have here again your little younge maid. +</p> + +<p> +“Go now,” quoth she, “and do my lord’s behest.<br/> +And one thing would I pray you of your grace,<br/> +*But if* my lord forbade you at the least, *unless*<br/> +Bury this little body in some place,<br/> +That neither beasts nor birdes it arace.”* *tear <10><br/> +But he no word would to that purpose say,<br/> +But took the child and went upon his way. +</p> + +<p> +The sergeant came unto his lord again,<br/> +And of Griselda’s words and of her cheer* *demeanour<br/> +He told him point for point, in short and plain,<br/> +And him presented with his daughter dear.<br/> +Somewhat this lord had ruth in his mannere,<br/> +But natheless his purpose held he still,<br/> +As lordes do, when they will have their will; +</p> + +<p> +And bade this sergeant that he privily<br/> +Shoulde the child full softly wind and wrap,<br/> +With alle circumstances tenderly,<br/> +And carry it in a coffer, or in lap;<br/> +But, upon pain his head off for to swap,* *strike<br/> +That no man shoulde know of his intent,<br/> +Nor whence he came, nor whither that he went; +</p> + +<p> +But at Bologna, to his sister dear,<br/> +That at that time of Panic’* was Countess, *Panico<br/> +He should it take, and shew her this mattere,<br/> +Beseeching her to do her business<br/> +This child to foster in all gentleness,<br/> +And whose child it was he bade her hide<br/> +From every wight, for aught that might betide. +</p> + +<p> +The sergeant went, and hath fulfill’d this thing.<br/> +But to the marquis now returne we;<br/> +For now went he full fast imagining<br/> +If by his wife’s cheer he mighte see,<br/> +Or by her wordes apperceive, that she<br/> +Were changed; but he never could her find,<br/> +But ever-in-one* alike sad** and kind. *constantly **steadfast +</p> + +<p> +As glad, as humble, as busy in service,<br/> +And eke in love, as she was wont to be,<br/> +Was she to him, in every *manner wise;* *sort of way*<br/> +And of her daughter not a word spake she;<br/> +*No accident for no adversity* *no change of humour resulting<br/> +Was seen in her, nor e’er her daughter’s name from her affliction*<br/> +She named, or in earnest or in game. +</p> + +<p> +*Pars Quarta* *Fourth Part* +</p> + +<p> +In this estate there passed be four year<br/> +Ere she with childe was; but, as God wo’ld,<br/> +A knave* child she bare by this Waltere, *boy<br/> +Full gracious and fair for to behold;<br/> +And when that folk it to his father told,<br/> +Not only he, but all his country, merry<br/> +Were for this child, and God they thank and hery.* *praise +</p> + +<p> +When it was two year old, and from the breast<br/> +Departed* of the norice, on a day *taken, weaned<br/> +This marquis *caughte yet another lest* *was seized by yet<br/> +To tempt his wife yet farther, if he may. another desire*<br/> +Oh! needless was she tempted in as say;* *trial<br/> +But wedded men *not connen no measure,* *know no moderation*<br/> +When that they find a patient creature. +</p> + +<p> +“Wife,” quoth the marquis, “ye have heard ere this<br/> +My people *sickly bear* our marriage; *regard with displeasure*<br/> +And namely* since my son y-boren is, *especially<br/> +Now is it worse than ever in all our age:<br/> +The murmur slays mine heart and my corage,<br/> +For to mine ears cometh the voice so smart,* *painfully<br/> +That it well nigh destroyed hath mine heart. +</p> + +<p> +“Now say they thus, ‘When Walter is y-gone,<br/> +Then shall the blood of Janicol’ succeed,<br/> +And be our lord, for other have we none:’<br/> +Such wordes say my people, out of drede.* *doubt<br/> +Well ought I of such murmur take heed,<br/> +For certainly I dread all such sentence,* *expression of opinion<br/> +Though they not *plainen in mine audience.* *complain in my hearing* +</p> + +<p> +“I woulde live in peace, if that I might;<br/> +Wherefore I am disposed utterly,<br/> +As I his sister served ere* by night, *before<br/> +Right so think I to serve him privily.<br/> +This warn I you, that ye not suddenly<br/> +Out of yourself for no woe should outraie;* *become outrageous, rave<br/> +Be patient, and thereof I you pray.” +</p> + +<p> +“I have,” quoth she, “said thus, and ever shall,<br/> +I will no thing, nor n’ill no thing, certain,<br/> +But as you list; not grieveth me at all<br/> +Though that my daughter and my son be slain<br/> +At your commandement; that is to sayn,<br/> +I have not had no part of children twain,<br/> +But first sickness, and after woe and pain. +</p> + +<p> +“Ye be my lord, do with your owen thing<br/> +Right as you list, and ask no rede of me:<br/> +For, as I left at home all my clothing<br/> +When I came first to you, right so,” quoth she,<br/> +“Left I my will and all my liberty,<br/> +And took your clothing: wherefore I you pray,<br/> +Do your pleasance, I will your lust* obey. *will +</p> + +<p> +“And, certes, if I hadde prescience<br/> +Your will to know, ere ye your lust* me told, *will<br/> +I would it do withoute negligence:<br/> +But, now I know your lust, and what ye wo’ld,<br/> +All your pleasance firm and stable I hold;<br/> +For, wist I that my death might do you ease,<br/> +Right gladly would I dien you to please. +</p> + +<p> +“Death may not make no comparisoun<br/> +Unto your love.” And when this marquis say* *saw<br/> +The constance of his wife, he cast adown<br/> +His eyen two, and wonder’d how she may<br/> +In patience suffer all this array;<br/> +And forth he went with dreary countenance;<br/> +But to his heart it was full great pleasance. +</p> + +<p> +This ugly sergeant, in the same wise<br/> +That he her daughter caught, right so hath he<br/> +(Or worse, if men can any worse devise,)<br/> +Y-hent* her son, that full was of beauty: *seized<br/> +And ever-in-one* so patient was she, *unvaryingly<br/> +That she no cheere made of heaviness,<br/> +But kiss’d her son, and after gan him bless. +</p> + +<p> +Save this she prayed him, if that he might,<br/> +Her little son he would in earthe grave,* *bury<br/> +His tender limbes, delicate to sight,<br/> +From fowles and from beastes for to save.<br/> +But she none answer of him mighte have;<br/> +He went his way, as him nothing ne raught,* *cared<br/> +But to Bologna tenderly it brought. +</p> + +<p> +The marquis wonder’d ever longer more<br/> +Upon her patience; and, if that he<br/> +Not hadde soothly knowen therebefore<br/> +That perfectly her children loved she,<br/> +He would have ween’d* that of some subtilty, *thought<br/> +And of malice, or for cruel corage,* *disposition<br/> +She hadde suffer’d this with sad* visage. *steadfast, unmoved +</p> + +<p> +But well he knew, that, next himself, certain<br/> +She lov’d her children best in every wise.<br/> +But now of women would I aske fain,<br/> +If these assayes mighte not suffice?<br/> +What could a sturdy* husband more devise *stern<br/> +To prove her wifehood and her steadfastness,<br/> +And he continuing ev’r in sturdiness? +</p> + +<p> +But there be folk of such condition,<br/> +That, when they have a certain purpose take,<br/> +Thiey cannot stint* of their intention, *cease<br/> +But, right as they were bound unto a stake,<br/> +They will not of their firste purpose slake:* *slacken, abate<br/> +Right so this marquis fully hath purpos’d<br/> +To tempt his wife, as he was first dispos’d. +</p> + +<p> +He waited, if by word or countenance<br/> +That she to him was changed of corage:* *spirit<br/> +But never could he finde variance,<br/> +She was aye one in heart and in visage,<br/> +And aye the farther that she was in age,<br/> +The more true (if that it were possible)<br/> +She was to him in love, and more penible.* *painstaking in devotion +</p> + +<p> +For which it seemed thus, that of them two<br/> +There was but one will; for, as Walter lest,* *pleased<br/> +The same pleasance was her lust* also; *pleasure<br/> +And, God be thanked, all fell for the best.<br/> +She shewed well, for no worldly unrest,<br/> +A wife as of herself no thinge should<br/> +Will, in effect, but as her husbaud would. +</p> + +<p> +The sland’r of Walter wondrous wide sprad,<br/> +That of a cruel heart he wickedly,<br/> +For* he a poore woman wedded had, *because<br/> +Had murder’d both his children privily:<br/> +Such murmur was among them commonly.<br/> +No wonder is: for to the people’s ear<br/> +There came no word, but that they murder’d were. +</p> + +<p> +For which, whereas his people therebefore<br/> +Had lov’d him well, the sland’r of his diffame* *infamy<br/> +Made them that they him hated therefore.<br/> +To be a murd’rer is a hateful name.<br/> +But natheless, for earnest or for game,<br/> +He of his cruel purpose would not stent;<br/> +To tempt his wife was set all his intent. +</p> + +<p> +When that his daughter twelve year was of age,<br/> +He to the Court of Rome, in subtle wise<br/> +Informed of his will, sent his message,* *messenger<br/> +Commanding him such bulles to devise<br/> +As to his cruel purpose may suffice,<br/> +How that the Pope, for his people’s rest,<br/> +Bade him to wed another, if him lest.* *wished +</p> + +<p> +I say he bade they shoulde counterfeit<br/> +The Pope’s bulles, making mention<br/> +That he had leave his firste wife to lete,* *leave<br/> +To stinte* rancour and dissension *put an end to<br/> +Betwixt his people and him: thus spake the bull,<br/> +The which they have published at full. +</p> + +<p> +The rude people, as no wonder is,<br/> +Weened* full well that it had been right so: *thought, believed<br/> +But, when these tidings came to Griseldis.<br/> +I deeme that her heart was full of woe;<br/> +But she, alike sad* for evermo’, *steadfast<br/> +Disposed was, this humble creature,<br/> +Th’ adversity of fortune all t’ endure; +</p> + +<p> +Abiding ever his lust and his pleasance,<br/> +To whom that she was given, heart and all,<br/> +As *to her very worldly suffisance.* *to the utmost extent<br/> +But, shortly if this story tell I shall, of her power*<br/> +The marquis written hath in special<br/> +A letter, in which he shewed his intent,<br/> +And secretly it to Bologna sent. +</p> + +<p> +To th’ earl of Panico, which hadde tho* *there<br/> +Wedded his sister, pray’d he specially<br/> +To bringe home again his children two<br/> +In honourable estate all openly:<br/> +But one thing he him prayed utterly,<br/> +That he to no wight, though men would inquere,<br/> +Shoulde not tell whose children that they were, +</p> + +<p> +But say, the maiden should y-wedded be<br/> +Unto the marquis of Saluce anon.<br/> +And as this earl was prayed, so did he,<br/> +For, at day set, he on his way is gone<br/> +Toward Saluce, and lorde’s many a one<br/> +In rich array, this maiden for to guide, —<br/> +Her younge brother riding her beside. +</p> + +<p> +Arrayed was toward* her marriage *as if for<br/> +This freshe maiden, full of gemmes clear;<br/> +Her brother, which that seven year was of age,<br/> +Arrayed eke full fresh in his mannere:<br/> +And thus, in great nobless, and with glad cheer,<br/> +Toward Saluces shaping their journey,<br/> +From day to day they rode upon their way. +</p> + +<p> +*Pars Quinta.* *Fifth Part* +</p> + +<p> +*Among all this,* after his wick’ usage, *while all this was<br/> +The marquis, yet his wife to tempte more going on*<br/> +To the uttermost proof of her corage,<br/> +Fully to have experience and lore* *knowledge<br/> +If that she were as steadfast as before,<br/> +He on a day, in open audience,<br/> +Full boisterously said her this sentence: +</p> + +<p> +“Certes, Griseld’, I had enough pleasance<br/> +To have you to my wife, for your goodness,<br/> +And for your truth, and for your obeisance,<br/> +Not for your lineage, nor for your richess;<br/> +But now know I, in very soothfastness,<br/> +That in great lordship, if I well advise,<br/> +There is great servitude in sundry wise. +</p> + +<p> +“I may not do as every ploughman may:<br/> +My people me constraineth for to take<br/> +Another wife, and cryeth day by day;<br/> +And eke the Pope, rancour for to slake,<br/> +Consenteth it, that dare I undertake:<br/> +And truely, thus much I will you say,<br/> +My newe wife is coming by the way. +</p> + +<p> +“Be strong of heart, and *void anon* her place; *immediately vacate*<br/> +And thilke* dower that ye brought to me, *that<br/> +Take it again, I grant it of my grace.<br/> +Returne to your father’s house,” quoth he;<br/> +“No man may always have prosperity;<br/> +With even heart I rede* you to endure *counsel<br/> +The stroke of fortune or of aventure.” +</p> + +<p> +And she again answer’d in patience:<br/> +“My Lord,” quoth she, “I know, and knew alway,<br/> +How that betwixte your magnificence<br/> +And my povert’ no wight nor can nor may<br/> +Make comparison, it *is no nay;* *cannot be denied*<br/> +I held me never digne* in no mannere *worthy<br/> +To be your wife, nor yet your chamberere.* *chamber-maid +</p> + +<p> +“And in this house, where ye me lady made,<br/> +(The highe God take I for my witness,<br/> +And all so wisly* he my soule glade),** *surely **gladdened<br/> +I never held me lady nor mistress,<br/> +But humble servant to your worthiness,<br/> +And ever shall, while that my life may dure,<br/> +Aboven every worldly creature. +</p> + +<p> +“That ye so long, of your benignity,<br/> +Have holden me in honour and nobley,* *nobility<br/> +Where as I was not worthy for to be,<br/> +That thank I God and you, to whom I pray<br/> +Foryield* it you; there is no more to say: *reward<br/> +Unto my father gladly will I wend,* *go<br/> +And with him dwell, unto my lifes end, +</p> + +<p> +“Where I was foster’d as a child full small,<br/> +Till I be dead my life there will I lead,<br/> +A widow clean in body, heart, and all.<br/> +For since I gave to you my maidenhead,<br/> +And am your true wife, it is no dread,* *doubt<br/> +God shielde* such a lordes wife to take *forbid<br/> +Another man to husband or to make.* *mate +</p> + +<p> +“And of your newe wife, God of his grace<br/> +So grant you weal and all prosperity:<br/> +For I will gladly yield to her my place,<br/> +In which that I was blissful wont to be.<br/> +For since it liketh you, my Lord,” quoth she,<br/> +“That whilom weren all mine hearte’s rest,<br/> +That I shall go, I will go when you lest. +</p> + +<p> +“But whereas ye me proffer such dowaire<br/> +As I first brought, it is well in my mind,<br/> +It was my wretched clothes, nothing fair,<br/> +The which to me were hard now for to find.<br/> +O goode God! how gentle and how kind<br/> +Ye seemed by your speech and your visage,<br/> +The day that maked was our marriage! +</p> + +<p> +“But sooth is said, — algate* I find it true, *at all events<br/> +For in effect it proved is on me, —<br/> +Love is not old as when that it is new.<br/> +But certes, Lord, for no adversity,<br/> +To dien in this case, it shall not be<br/> +That e’er in word or work I shall repent<br/> +That I you gave mine heart in whole intent. +</p> + +<p> +“My Lord, ye know that in my father’s place<br/> +Ye did me strip out of my poore weed,* *raiment<br/> +And richely ye clad me of your grace;<br/> +To you brought I nought elles, out of dread,<br/> +But faith, and nakedness, and maidenhead;<br/> +And here again your clothing I restore,<br/> +And eke your wedding ring for evermore. +</p> + +<p> +“The remnant of your jewels ready be<br/> +Within your chamber, I dare safely sayn:<br/> +Naked out of my father’s house,” quoth she,<br/> +“I came, and naked I must turn again.<br/> +All your pleasance would I follow fain:* *cheerfully<br/> +But yet I hope it be not your intent<br/> +That smockless* I out of your palace went. *naked +</p> + +<p> +“Ye could not do so dishonest* a thing, *dishonourable<br/> +That thilke* womb, in which your children lay, *that<br/> +Shoulde before the people, in my walking,<br/> +Be seen all bare: and therefore I you pray,<br/> +Let me not like a worm go by the way:<br/> +Remember you, mine owen Lord so dear,<br/> +I was your wife, though I unworthy were. +</p> + +<p> +“Wherefore, in guerdon* of my maidenhead, *reward<br/> +Which that I brought and not again I bear,<br/> +As vouchesafe to give me to my meed* *reward<br/> +But such a smock as I was wont to wear,<br/> +That I therewith may wrie* the womb of her *cover<br/> +That was your wife: and here I take my leave<br/> +Of you, mine owen Lord, lest I you grieve.” +</p> + +<p> +“The smock,” quoth he, “that thou hast on thy back,<br/> +Let it be still, and bear it forth with thee.”<br/> +But well unnethes* thilke word he spake, *with difficulty<br/> +But went his way for ruth and for pity.<br/> +Before the folk herselfe stripped she,<br/> +And in her smock, with foot and head all bare,<br/> +Toward her father’s house forth is she fare.* *gone +</p> + +<p> +The folk her follow’d weeping on her way,<br/> +And fortune aye they cursed as they gon:* *go<br/> +But she from weeping kept her eyen drey,* *dry<br/> +Nor in this time worde spake she none.<br/> +Her father, that this tiding heard anon,<br/> +Cursed the day and time, that nature<br/> +Shope* him to be a living creature. *formed, ordained +</p> + +<p> +For, out of doubt, this olde poore man<br/> +Was ever in suspect of her marriage:<br/> +For ever deem’d he, since it first began,<br/> +That when the lord *fulfill’d had his corage,* *had gratified his whim*<br/> +He woulde think it were a disparage* *disparagement<br/> +To his estate, so low for to alight,<br/> +And voide* her as soon as e’er he might. *dismiss +</p> + +<p> +Against* his daughter hastily went he *to meet<br/> +(For he by noise of folk knew her coming),<br/> +And with her olde coat, as it might be,<br/> +He cover’d her, full sorrowfully weeping:<br/> +But on her body might he it not bring,<br/> +For rude was the cloth, and more of age<br/> +By dayes fele* than at her marriage. *many <11> +</p> + +<p> +Thus with her father for a certain space<br/> +Dwelled this flow’r of wifely patience,<br/> +That neither by her words nor by her face,<br/> +Before the folk nor eke in their absence,<br/> +Ne shewed she that her was done offence,<br/> +Nor of her high estate no remembrance<br/> +Ne hadde she, *as by* her countenance. *to judge from* +</p> + +<p> +No wonder is, for in her great estate<br/> +Her ghost* was ever in plein** humility; *spirit **full<br/> +No tender mouth, no hearte delicate,<br/> +No pomp, and no semblant of royalty;<br/> +But full of patient benignity,<br/> +Discreet and prideless, aye honourable,<br/> +And to her husband ever meek and stable. +</p> + +<p> +Men speak of Job, and most for his humbless,<br/> +As clerkes, when them list, can well indite,<br/> +Namely* of men; but, as in soothfastness, *particularly<br/> +Though clerkes praise women but a lite,* *little<br/> +There can no man in humbless him acquite<br/> +As women can, nor can be half so true<br/> +As women be, *but it be fall of new.* *unless it has lately<br/> + come to pass* +</p> + +<p> +*Pars Sexta* *Sixth Part* +</p> + +<p> +From Bologn’ is the earl of Panic’ come,<br/> +Of which the fame up sprang to more and less;<br/> +And to the people’s eares all and some<br/> +Was know’n eke, that a newe marchioness<br/> +He with him brought, in such pomp and richess<br/> +That never was there seen with manne’s eye<br/> +So noble array in all West Lombardy. +</p> + +<p> +The marquis, which that shope* and knew all this, *arranged<br/> +Ere that the earl was come, sent his message* *messenger<br/> +For thilke poore sely* Griseldis; *innocent<br/> +And she, with humble heart and glad visage,<br/> +Nor with no swelling thought in her corage,* *mind<br/> +Came at his hest,* and on her knees her set, *command<br/> +And rev’rently and wisely she him gret.* *greeted +</p> + +<p> +“Griseld’,” quoth he, “my will is utterly,<br/> +This maiden, that shall wedded be to me,<br/> +Received be to-morrow as royally<br/> +As it possible is in my house to be;<br/> +And eke that every wight in his degree<br/> +Have *his estate* in sitting and service, *what befits his<br/> +And in high pleasance, as I can devise. condition* +</p> + +<p> +“I have no women sufficient, certain,<br/> +The chambers to array in ordinance<br/> +After my lust;* and therefore would I fain *pleasure<br/> +That thine were all such manner governance:<br/> +Thou knowest eke of old all my pleasance;<br/> +Though thine array be bad, and ill besey,* *poor to look on<br/> +*Do thou thy devoir at the leaste way.”* * do your duty in the<br/> + quickest manner*<br/> +“Not only, Lord, that I am glad,” quoth she,<br/> +“To do your lust, but I desire also<br/> +You for to serve and please in my degree,<br/> +Withoute fainting, and shall evermo’:<br/> +Nor ever for no weal, nor for no woe,<br/> +Ne shall the ghost* within mine hearte stent** *spirit **cease<br/> +To love you best with all my true intent.” +</p> + +<p> +And with that word she gan the house to dight,* *arrange<br/> +And tables for to set, and beds to make,<br/> +And *pained her* to do all that she might, *she took pains*<br/> +Praying the chambereres* for Godde’s sake *chamber-maids<br/> +To hasten them, and faste sweep and shake,<br/> +And she the most serviceable of all<br/> +Hath ev’ry chamber arrayed, and his hall. +</p> + +<p> +Aboute undern* gan the earl alight, *afternoon <5><br/> +That with him brought these noble children tway;<br/> +For which the people ran to see the sight<br/> +Of their array, so *richely besey;* *rich to behold*<br/> +And then *at erst* amonges them they say, *for the first time*<br/> +That Walter was no fool, though that him lest* *pleased<br/> +To change his wife; for it was for the best. +</p> + +<p> +For she is fairer, as they deemen* all, *think<br/> +Than is Griseld’, and more tender of age,<br/> +And fairer fruit between them shoulde fall,<br/> +And more pleasant, for her high lineage:<br/> +Her brother eke so fair was of visage,<br/> +That them to see the people hath caught pleasance,<br/> +Commending now the marquis’ governance. +</p> + +<p> +“O stormy people, unsad* and ev’r untrue, *variable<br/> +And undiscreet, and changing as a vane,<br/> +Delighting ev’r in rumour that is new,<br/> +For like the moon so waxe ye and wane:<br/> +Aye full of clapping, *dear enough a jane,* *worth nothing <12>*<br/> +Your doom* is false, your constance evil preveth,** *judgment **proveth<br/> +A full great fool is he that you believeth.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus saide the sad* folk in that city, *sedate<br/> +When that the people gazed up and down;<br/> +For they were glad, right for the novelty,<br/> +To have a newe lady of their town.<br/> +No more of this now make I mentioun,<br/> +But to Griseld’ again I will me dress,<br/> +And tell her constancy and business. +</p> + +<p> +Full busy was Griseld’ in ev’ry thing<br/> +That to the feaste was appertinent;<br/> +Right nought was she abash’d* of her clothing, *ashamed<br/> +Though it were rude, and somedeal eke to-rent;* *tattered<br/> +But with glad cheer* unto the gate she went *expression<br/> +With other folk, to greet the marchioness,<br/> +And after that did forth her business. +</p> + +<p> +With so glad cheer* his guestes she receiv’d *expression<br/> +And so conningly* each in his degree, *cleverly, skilfully<br/> +That no defaulte no man apperceiv’d,<br/> +But aye they wonder’d what she mighte be<br/> +That in so poor array was for to see,<br/> +And coude* such honour and reverence; *knew, understood<br/> +And worthily they praise her prudence. +</p> + +<p> +In all this meane while she not stent* *ceased<br/> +This maid, and eke her brother, to commend<br/> +With all her heart in full benign intent,<br/> +So well, that no man could her praise amend:<br/> +But at the last, when that these lordes wend* *go<br/> +To sitte down to meat, he gan to call<br/> +Griseld’, as she was busy in the hall. +</p> + +<p> +“Griseld’,” quoth he, as it were in his play,<br/> +“How liketh thee my wife, and her beauty?”<br/> +“Right well, my Lord,” quoth she, “for, in good fay,* *faith<br/> +A fairer saw I never none than she:<br/> +I pray to God give you prosperity;<br/> +And so I hope, that he will to you send<br/> +Pleasance enough unto your lives end. +</p> + +<p> +“One thing beseech I you, and warn also,<br/> +That ye not pricke with no tormenting<br/> +This tender maiden, as ye have done mo:* *me <13><br/> +For she is foster’d in her nourishing<br/> +More tenderly, and, to my supposing,<br/> +She mighte not adversity endure<br/> +As could a poore foster’d creature.” +</p> + +<p> +And when this Walter saw her patience,<br/> +Her gladde cheer, and no malice at all,<br/> +And* he so often had her done offence, *although<br/> +And she aye sad* and constant as a wall, *steadfast<br/> +Continuing ev’r her innocence o’er all,<br/> +The sturdy marquis gan his hearte dress* *prepare<br/> +To rue upon her wifely steadfastness. +</p> + +<p> +“This is enough, Griselda mine,” quoth he,<br/> +“Be now no more *aghast, nor evil paid,* *afraid, nor displeased*<br/> +I have thy faith and thy benignity<br/> +As well as ever woman was, assay’d,<br/> +In great estate and poorely array’d:<br/> +Now know I, deare wife, thy steadfastness;”<br/> +And her in arms he took, and gan to kiss. +</p> + +<p> +And she for wonder took of it no keep;* *notice<br/> +She hearde not what thing he to her said:<br/> +She far’d as she had start out of a sleep,<br/> +Till she out of her mazedness abraid.* *awoke<br/> +“Griseld’,” quoth he, “by God that for us died,<br/> +Thou art my wife, none other I have,<br/> +Nor ever had, as God my soule save. +</p> + +<p> +“This is thy daughter, which thou hast suppos’d<br/> +To be my wife; that other faithfully<br/> +Shall be mine heir, as I have aye dispos’d;<br/> +Thou bare them of thy body truely:<br/> +At Bologna kept I them privily:<br/> +Take them again, for now may’st thou not say<br/> +That thou hast lorn* none of thy children tway. *lost +</p> + +<p> +“And folk, that otherwise have said of me,<br/> +I warn them well, that I have done this deed<br/> +For no malice, nor for no cruelty,<br/> +But to assay in thee thy womanhead:<br/> +And not to slay my children (God forbid),<br/> +But for to keep them privily and still,<br/> +Till I thy purpose knew, and all thy will.” +</p> + +<p> +When she this heard, in swoon adown she falleth<br/> +For piteous joy; and after her swooning,<br/> +She both her younge children to her calleth,<br/> +And in her armes piteously weeping<br/> +Embraced them, and tenderly kissing,<br/> +Full like a mother, with her salte tears<br/> +She bathed both their visage and their hairs. +</p> + +<p> +O, what a piteous thing it was to see<br/> +Her swooning, and her humble voice to hear!<br/> +“Grand mercy, Lord, God thank it you,” quoth she,<br/> +That ye have saved me my children dear;<br/> +Now reck* I never to be dead right here; *care<br/> +Since I stand in your love, and in your grace,<br/> +No *force of* death, nor when my spirit pace.* *no matter for* *pass +</p> + +<p> +“O tender, O dear, O young children mine,<br/> +Your woeful mother *weened steadfastly* *believed firmly*<br/> +That cruel houndes, or some foul vermine,<br/> +Had eaten you; but God of his mercy,<br/> +And your benigne father tenderly<br/> +Have *done you keep:”* and in that same stound* *caused you to<br/> +All suddenly she swapt** down to the ground. be preserved*<br/> + *hour **fell<br/> +And in her swoon so sadly* holdeth she *firmly<br/> +Her children two, when she gan them embrace,<br/> +That with great sleight* and great difficulty *art<br/> +The children from her arm they can arace,* *pull away<br/> +O! many a tear on many a piteous face<br/> +Down ran of them that stoode her beside,<br/> +Unneth’* aboute her might they abide. *scarcely +</p> + +<p> +Walter her gladdeth, and her sorrow slaketh:* *assuages<br/> +She riseth up abashed* from her trance, *astonished<br/> +And every wight her joy and feaste maketh,<br/> +Till she hath caught again her countenance.<br/> +Walter her doth so faithfully pleasance,<br/> +That it was dainty for to see the cheer<br/> +Betwixt them two, since they be met in fere.* *together +</p> + +<p> +The ladies, when that they their time sey,* *saw<br/> +Have taken her, and into chamber gone,<br/> +And stripped her out of her rude array,<br/> +And in a cloth of gold that brightly shone,<br/> +And with a crown of many a riche stone<br/> +Upon her head, they into hall her brought:<br/> +And there she was honoured as her ought. +</p> + +<p> +Thus had this piteous day a blissful end;<br/> +For every man and woman did his might<br/> +This day in mirth and revel to dispend,<br/> +Till on the welkin* shone the starres bright: *firmament<br/> +For more solemn in every mannes sight<br/> +This feaste was, and greater of costage,* *expense<br/> +Than was the revel of her marriage. +</p> + +<p> +Full many a year in high prosperity<br/> +Lived these two in concord and in rest;<br/> +And richely his daughter married he<br/> +Unto a lord, one of the worthiest<br/> +Of all Itale; and then in peace and rest<br/> +His wife’s father in his court he kept,<br/> +Till that the soul out of his body crept. +</p> + +<p> +His son succeeded in his heritage,<br/> +In rest and peace, after his father’s day:<br/> +And fortunate was eke in marriage,<br/> +All* he put not his wife in great assay: *although<br/> +This world is not so strong, it *is no nay,* *not to be denied*<br/> +As it hath been in olde times yore;<br/> +And hearken what this author saith, therefore; +</p> + +<p> +This story is said, <14> not for that wives should<br/> +Follow Griselda in humility,<br/> +For it were importable* though they would; *not to be borne<br/> +But for that every wight in his degree<br/> +Shoulde be constant in adversity,<br/> +As was Griselda; therefore Petrarch writeth<br/> +This story, which with high style he inditeth. +</p> + +<p> +For, since a woman was so patient<br/> +Unto a mortal man, well more we ought<br/> +Receiven all in gree* that God us sent. good-will<br/> +*For great skill is he proved that he wrought:* *see note <15>*<br/> +But he tempteth no man that he hath bought,<br/> +As saith Saint James, if ye his ’pistle read;<br/> +He proveth folk all day, it is no dread.* *doubt +</p> + +<p> +And suffereth us, for our exercise,<br/> +With sharpe scourges of adversity<br/> +Full often to be beat in sundry wise;<br/> +Not for to know our will, for certes he,<br/> +Ere we were born, knew all our frailty;<br/> +And for our best is all his governance;<br/> +Let us then live in virtuous sufferance. +</p> + +<p> +But one word, lordings, hearken, ere I go:<br/> +It were full hard to finde now-a-days<br/> +In all a town Griseldas three or two:<br/> +For, if that they were put to such assays,<br/> +The gold of them hath now so bad allays* *alloys<br/> +With brass, that though the coin be fair *at eye,* *to see*<br/> +It woulde rather break in two than ply.* *bend +</p> + +<p> +For which here, for the Wife’s love of Bath, —<br/> +Whose life and all her sex may God maintain<br/> +In high mast’ry, and elles were it scath,* — *damage, pity<br/> +I will, with lusty hearte fresh and green,<br/> +Say you a song to gladden you, I ween:<br/> +And let us stint of earnestful mattere.<br/> +Hearken my song, that saith in this mannere. +</p> + +<p> +L’Envoy of Chaucer. +</p> + +<p> +“Griseld’ is dead, and eke her patience,<br/> +And both at once are buried in Itale:<br/> +For which I cry in open audience,<br/> +No wedded man so hardy be t’ assail<br/> +His wife’s patience, in trust to find<br/> +Griselda’s, for in certain he shall fail. +</p> + +<p> +“O noble wives, full of high prudence,<br/> +Let no humility your tongues nail:<br/> +Nor let no clerk have cause or diligence<br/> +To write of you a story of such marvail,<br/> +As of Griselda patient and kind,<br/> +Lest Chichevache<16> you swallow in her entrail. +</p> + +<p> +“Follow Echo, that holdeth no silence,<br/> +But ever answereth at the countertail;* *counter-tally <17><br/> +Be not bedaffed* for your innocence, *befooled<br/> +But sharply take on you the governail;* *helm<br/> +Imprinte well this lesson in your mind,<br/> +For common profit, since it may avail. +</p> + +<p> +“Ye archiwives,* stand aye at defence, *wives of rank<br/> +Since ye be strong as is a great camail,* *camel<br/> +Nor suffer not that men do you offence.<br/> +And slender wives, feeble in battail,<br/> +Be eager as a tiger yond in Ind;<br/> +Aye clapping as a mill, I you counsail. +</p> + +<p> +“Nor dread them not, nor do them reverence;<br/> +For though thine husband armed be in mail,<br/> +The arrows of thy crabbed eloquence<br/> +Shall pierce his breast, and eke his aventail;<18><br/> +In jealousy I rede* eke thou him bind, *advise<br/> +And thou shalt make him couch* as doth a quail. *submit, shrink +</p> + +<p> +“If thou be fair, where folk be in presence<br/> +Shew thou thy visage and thine apparail:<br/> +If thou be foul, be free of thy dispence;<br/> +To get thee friendes aye do thy travail:<br/> +Be aye of cheer as light as leaf on lind,* *linden, lime-tree<br/> +And let him care, and weep, and wring, and wail.” +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Clerk’s Tale +</p> + +<p> +1. Petrarch, in his Latin romance, “De obedientia et fide uxoria +Mythologia,” (Of obedient and faithful wives in Mythology) +translated the charming story of “the patient Grizel” from the +Italian of Bocaccio’s “Decameron;” and Chaucer has closely +followed Petrarch’s translation, made in 1373, the year before +that in which he died. The fact that the embassy to Genoa, on +which Chaucer was sent, took place in 1372-73, has lent +countenance to the opinion that the English poet did actually +visit the Italian bard at Padua, and hear the story from his own +lips. This, however, is only a probability; for it is a moot point +whether the two poets ever met. +</p> + +<p> +2. Vesulus: Monte Viso, a lofty peak at the junction of the +Maritime and Cottian Alps; from two springs on its east side +rises the Po. +</p> + +<p> +3. Buxomly: obediently; Anglo-Saxon, “bogsom,” old English, +“boughsome,” that can be easily bent or bowed; German, +“biegsam,” pliant, obedient. +</p> + +<p> +4. Well ofter of the well than of the tun she drank: she drank +water much more often than wine. +</p> + +<p> +5. Undern: afternoon, evening, though by some “undern” +is understood as dinner-time — 9 a. m. See note 4 to the Wife of +Bath’s Tale. +</p> + +<p> +6. Very: true; French “vrai”. +</p> + +<p> +7. Nouches: Ornaments of some kind not precisely known; +some editions read “ouches,” studs, brooches. (Transcriber’s +note: The OED gives “nouches” as a form of “ouches,” +buckles) +</p> + +<p> +8. A furlong way or two: a short time; literally, as long as it +takes to walk one or two furlongs (a furlong is 220 yards) +</p> + +<p> +9. Lordes’ hestes may not be y-feign’d: it will not do merely to +feign compliance with a lord’s commands. +</p> + +<p> +10. Arace: tear; French, “arracher.” +</p> + +<p> +11. Fele: many; German, “viel.” +</p> + +<p> +12. Dear enough a jane: worth nothing. A jane was a small coin +of little worth, so the meaning is “not worth a red cent”. +</p> + +<p> +13. Mo: me. “This is one of the most licentious corruptions of +orthography,” says Tyrwhitt, “that I remember to have observed +in Chaucer;” but such liberties were common among the +European poets of his time, when there was an extreme lack of +certainty in orthography. +</p> + +<p> +14. The fourteen lines that follow are translated almost literally +from Petrarch’s Latin. +</p> + +<p> +15. For great skill is he proved that he wrought: for it is most +reasonable that He should prove or test that which he made. +</p> + +<p> +16. Chichevache, in old popular fable, was a monster that fed +only on good women, and was always very thin from scarcity of +such food; a corresponding monster, Bycorne, fed only on +obedient and kind husbands, and was always fat. The origin of +the fable was French; but Lydgate has a ballad on the subject. +“Chichevache” literally means “niggardly” or “greedy cow.” +</p> + +<p> +17. Countertail: Counter-tally or counter-foil; something exactly +corresponding. +</p> + +<p> +18. Aventail: forepart of a helmet, vizor. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap14"></a>THE MERCHANT’S TALE.</h2> + +<h3>THE PROLOGUE.<l></h3> + +<p> +“Weeping and wailing, care and other sorrow,<br/> +I have enough, on even and on morrow,”<br/> +Quoth the Merchant, “and so have other mo’,<br/> +That wedded be; I trow* that it be so; *believe<br/> +For well I wot it fareth so by me.<br/> +I have a wife, the worste that may be,<br/> +For though the fiend to her y-coupled were,<br/> +She would him overmatch, I dare well swear.<br/> +Why should I you rehearse in special<br/> +Her high malice? she is *a shrew at all.* *thoroughly, in<br/> +There is a long and large difference everything wicked*<br/> +Betwixt Griselda’s greate patience,<br/> +And of my wife the passing cruelty.<br/> +Were I unbounden, all so may I the,* *thrive<br/> +I woulde never eft* come in the snare. *again<br/> +We wedded men live in sorrow and care;<br/> +Assay it whoso will, and he shall find<br/> +That I say sooth, by Saint Thomas of Ind,<2><br/> +As for the more part; I say not all, —<br/> +God shielde* that it shoulde so befall. *forbid<br/> +Ah! good Sir Host, I have y-wedded be<br/> +These moneths two, and more not, pardie;<br/> +And yet I trow* that he that all his life *believe<br/> +Wifeless hath been, though that men would him rive* *wound<br/> +Into the hearte, could in no mannere<br/> +Telle so much sorrow, as I you here<br/> +Could tellen of my wife’s cursedness.”* *wickedness +</p> + +<p> +“Now,” quoth our Host, “Merchant, so God you bless,<br/> +Since ye so muche knowen of that art,<br/> +Full heartily I pray you tell us part.”<br/> +“Gladly,” quoth he; “but of mine owen sore,<br/> +For sorry heart, I telle may no more.” +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Prologue to the Merchant’s Tale +</p> + +<p> +1. Though the manner in which the Merchant takes up the +closing words of the Envoy to the Clerk’s Tale, and refers to +the patience of Griselda, seems to prove beyond doubt that +the order of the Tales in the text is the right one, yet in +some manuscripts of good authority the Franklin’s Tale +follows the Clerk’s, and the Envoy is concluded by this +stanza: — +“This worthy Clerk when ended was his tale, +Our Hoste said, and swore by cocke’s bones +‘Me lever were than a barrel of ale +My wife at home had heard this legend once; +This is a gentle tale for the nonce; +As, to my purpose, wiste ye my will. +But thing that will not be, let it be still.’” +</p> + +<p> +In other manuscripts of less authority the Host proceeds, in +two similar stanzas, to impose a Tale on the Franklin; but +Tyrwhitt is probably right in setting them aside as spurious, +and in admitting the genuineness of the first only, if it be +supposed that Chaucer forgot to cancel it when he had +decided on another mode of connecting the Merchant’s with +the Clerk’s Tale. +</p> + +<p> +2. Saint Thomas of Ind: St. Thomas the Apostle, who was +believed to have travelled in India. +</p> + +<h3>THE TALE.<l></h3> + +<p> +Whilom there was dwelling in Lombardy<br/> +A worthy knight, that born was at Pavie,<br/> +In which he liv’d in great prosperity;<br/> +And forty years a wifeless man was he,<br/> +And follow’d aye his bodily delight<br/> +On women, where as was his appetite,<br/> +As do these fooles that be seculeres.<2><br/> +And, when that he was passed sixty years,<br/> +Were it for holiness, or for dotage,<br/> +I cannot say, but such a great corage* *inclination<br/> +Hadde this knight to be a wedded man,<br/> +That day and night he did all that he can<br/> +To espy where that he might wedded be;<br/> +Praying our Lord to grante him, that he<br/> +Mighte once knowen of that blissful life<br/> +That is betwixt a husband and his wife,<br/> +And for to live under that holy bond<br/> +With which God firste man and woman bond.<br/> +“None other life,” said he, “is worth a bean;<br/> +For wedlock is so easy, and so clean,<br/> +That in this world it is a paradise.”<br/> +Thus said this olde knight, that was so wise.<br/> +And certainly, as sooth* as God is king, *true<br/> +To take a wife it is a glorious thing,<br/> +And namely* when a man is old and hoar, *especially<br/> +Then is a wife the fruit of his treasor;<br/> +Then should he take a young wife and a fair,<br/> +On which he might engender him an heir,<br/> +And lead his life in joy and in solace;* *mirth, delight<br/> +Whereas these bachelors singen “Alas!”<br/> +When that they find any adversity<br/> +In love, which is but childish vanity.<br/> +And truely it sits* well to be so, *becomes, befits<br/> +That bachelors have often pain and woe:<br/> +On brittle ground they build, and brittleness<br/> +They finde when they *weene sickerness:* *think that there<br/> +They live but as a bird or as a beast, is security*<br/> +In liberty, and under no arrest;* *check, control<br/> +Whereas a wedded man in his estate<br/> +Liveth a life blissful and ordinate,<br/> +Under the yoke of marriage y-bound;<br/> +Well may his heart in joy and bliss abound.<br/> +For who can be so buxom* as a wife? *obedient<br/> +Who is so true, and eke so attentive<br/> +To keep* him, sick and whole, as is his make?** *care for **mate<br/> +For weal or woe she will him not forsake:<br/> +She is not weary him to love and serve,<br/> +Though that he lie bedrid until he sterve.* *die<br/> +And yet some clerkes say it is not so;<br/> +Of which he, Theophrast, is one of tho:* *those<br/> +*What force* though Theophrast list for to lie? *what matter* +</p> + +<p> +“Take no wife,” quoth he, <3> “for husbandry,* *thrift<br/> +As for to spare in household thy dispence;<br/> +A true servant doth more diligence<br/> +Thy good to keep, than doth thine owen wife,<br/> +For she will claim a half part all her life.<br/> +And if that thou be sick, so God me save,<br/> +Thy very friendes, or a true knave,* *servant<br/> +Will keep thee bet than she, that *waiteth aye *ahways waits to<br/> +After thy good,* and hath done many a day.” inherit your property*<br/> +This sentence, and a hundred times worse,<br/> +Writeth this man, there God his bones curse.<br/> +But take no keep* of all such vanity, *notice<br/> +Defy* Theophrast, and hearken to me. *distrust +</p> + +<p> +A wife is Godde’s gifte verily;<br/> +All other manner giftes hardily,* *truly<br/> +As handes, rentes, pasture, or commune,* *common land<br/> +Or mebles,* all be giftes of fortune, *furniture <4><br/> +That passen as a shadow on the wall:<br/> +But dread* thou not, if plainly speak I shall, *doubt<br/> +A wife will last, and in thine house endure,<br/> +Well longer than thee list, paraventure.* *perhaps<br/> +Marriage is a full great sacrament;<br/> +He which that hath no wife, I hold him shent;* *ruined<br/> +He liveth helpless, and all desolate<br/> +(I speak of folk *in secular estate*): *who are not<br/> +And hearken why, I say not this for nought, — of the clergy*<br/> +That woman is for manne’s help y-wrought.<br/> +The highe God, when he had Adam maked,<br/> +And saw him all alone belly naked,<br/> +God of his greate goodness saide then,<br/> +Let us now make a help unto this man<br/> +Like to himself; and then he made him Eve.<br/> +Here may ye see, and hereby may ye preve,* *prove<br/> +That a wife is man s help and his comfort,<br/> +His paradise terrestre and his disport.<br/> +So buxom* and so virtuous is she, *obedient, complying<br/> +They muste needes live in unity;<br/> +One flesh they be, and one blood, as I guess,<br/> +With but one heart in weal and in distress.<br/> +A wife? Ah! Saint Mary, ben’dicite,<br/> +How might a man have any adversity<br/> +That hath a wife? certes I cannot say<br/> +The bliss the which that is betwixt them tway,<br/> +There may no tongue it tell, or hearte think.<br/> +If he be poor, she helpeth him to swink;* *labour<br/> +She keeps his good, and wasteth never a deal;* *whit<br/> +All that her husband list, her liketh* well; *pleaseth<br/> +She saith not ones Nay, when he saith Yea;<br/> +“Do this,” saith he; “All ready, Sir,” saith she.<br/> +O blissful order, wedlock precious!<br/> +Thou art so merry, and eke so virtuous,<br/> +And so commended and approved eke,<br/> +That every man that holds him worth a leek<br/> +Upon his bare knees ought all his life<br/> +To thank his God, that him hath sent a wife;<br/> +Or elles pray to God him for to send<br/> +A wife, to last unto his life’s end.<br/> +For then his life is set in sickerness,* *security<br/> +He may not be deceived, as I guess,<br/> +So that he work after his wife’s rede;* *counsel<br/> +Then may he boldely bear up his head,<br/> +They be so true, and therewithal so wise.<br/> +For which, if thou wilt worken as the wise,<br/> +Do alway so as women will thee rede. * *counsel<br/> +Lo how that Jacob, as these clerkes read,<br/> +By good counsel of his mother Rebecc’<br/> +Bounde the kiddes skin about his neck;<br/> +For which his father’s benison* he wan. *benediction<br/> +Lo Judith, as the story telle can,<br/> +By good counsel she Godde’s people kept,<br/> +And slew him, Holofernes, while he slept.<br/> +Lo Abigail, by good counsel, how she<br/> +Saved her husband Nabal, when that he<br/> +Should have been slain. And lo, Esther also<br/> +By counsel good deliver’d out of woe<br/> +The people of God, and made him, Mardoche,<br/> +Of Assuere enhanced* for to be. *advanced in dignity<br/> +There is nothing *in gree superlative* *of higher esteem*<br/> +(As saith Senec) above a humble wife.<br/> +Suffer thy wife’s tongue, as Cato bit;* *bid<br/> +She shall command, and thou shalt suffer it,<br/> +And yet she will obey of courtesy.<br/> +A wife is keeper of thine husbandry:<br/> +Well may the sicke man bewail and weep,<br/> +There as there is no wife the house to keep.<br/> +I warne thee, if wisely thou wilt wirch,* *work<br/> +Love well thy wife, as Christ loveth his church:<br/> +Thou lov’st thyself, if thou lovest thy wife.<br/> +No man hateth his flesh, but in his life<br/> +He fost’reth it; and therefore bid I thee<br/> +Cherish thy wife, or thou shalt never the.* *thrive<br/> +Husband and wife, what *so men jape or play,* *although men joke<br/> +Of worldly folk holde the sicker* way; and jeer* *certain<br/> +They be so knit there may no harm betide,<br/> +And namely* upon the wife’s side. * especially +</p> + +<p> +For which this January, of whom I told,<br/> +Consider’d hath within his dayes old,<br/> +The lusty life, the virtuous quiet,<br/> +That is in marriage honey-sweet.<br/> +And for his friends upon a day he sent<br/> +To tell them the effect of his intent.<br/> +With face sad,* his tale he hath them told: *grave, earnest<br/> +He saide, “Friendes, I am hoar and old,<br/> +And almost (God wot) on my pitte’s* brink, *grave’s<br/> +Upon my soule somewhat must I think.<br/> +I have my body foolishly dispended,<br/> +Blessed be God that it shall be amended;<br/> +For I will be certain a wedded man,<br/> +And that anon in all the haste I can,<br/> +Unto some maiden, fair and tender of age;<br/> +I pray you shape* for my marriage * arrange, contrive<br/> +All suddenly, for I will not abide:<br/> +And I will fond* to espy, on my side, *try<br/> +To whom I may be wedded hastily.<br/> +But forasmuch as ye be more than,<br/> +Ye shalle rather* such a thing espy<br/> +Than I, and where me best were to ally.<br/> +But one thing warn I you, my friendes dear,<br/> +I will none old wife have in no mannere:<br/> +She shall not passe sixteen year certain.<br/> +Old fish and younge flesh would I have fain.<br/> +Better,” quoth he, “a pike than a pickerel,* *young pike<br/> +And better than old beef is tender veal.<br/> +I will no woman thirty year of age,<br/> +It is but beanestraw and great forage.<br/> +And eke these olde widows (God it wot)<br/> +They conne* so much craft on Wade’s boat,<5> *know<br/> +*So muche brooke harm when that them lest,* *they can do so much<br/> +That with them should I never live in rest. harm when they wish*<br/> +For sundry schooles make subtle clerkes;<br/> +Woman of many schooles half a clerk is.<br/> +But certainly a young thing men may guy,* *guide<br/> +Right as men may warm wax with handes ply.* *bend,mould<br/> +Wherefore I say you plainly in a clause,<br/> +I will none old wife have, right for this cause.<br/> +For if so were I hadde such mischance,<br/> +That I in her could have no pleasance,<br/> +Then should I lead my life in avoutrie,* *adultery<br/> +And go straight to the devil when I die.<br/> +Nor children should I none upon her getten:<br/> +Yet *were me lever* houndes had me eaten *I would rather*<br/> +Than that mine heritage shoulde fall<br/> +In strange hands: and this I tell you all.<br/> +I doubte not I know the cause why<br/> +Men shoulde wed: and farthermore know I<br/> +There speaketh many a man of marriage<br/> +That knows no more of it than doth my page,<br/> +For what causes a man should take a wife.<br/> +If he ne may not live chaste his life,<br/> +Take him a wife with great devotion,<br/> +Because of lawful procreation<br/> +Of children, to th’ honour of God above,<br/> +And not only for paramour or love;<br/> +And for they shoulde lechery eschew,<br/> +And yield their debte when that it is due:<br/> +Or for that each of them should help the other<br/> +In mischief,* as a sister shall the brother, *trouble<br/> +And live in chastity full holily.<br/> +But, Sires, by your leave, that am not I,<br/> +For, God be thanked, I dare make avaunt,* *boast<br/> +I feel my limbes stark* and suffisant *strong<br/> +To do all that a man belongeth to:<br/> +I wot myselfe best what I may do.<br/> +Though I be hoar, I fare as doth a tree,<br/> +That blossoms ere the fruit y-waxen* be; *grown<br/> +The blossomy tree is neither dry nor dead;<br/> +I feel me now here hoar but on my head.<br/> +Mine heart and all my limbes are as green<br/> +As laurel through the year is for to seen.* *see<br/> +And, since that ye have heard all mine intent,<br/> +I pray you to my will ye would assent.” +</p> + +<p> +Diverse men diversely him told<br/> +Of marriage many examples old;<br/> +Some blamed it, some praised it, certain;<br/> +But at the haste, shortly for to sayn<br/> +(As all day* falleth altercation *constantly, every day<br/> +Betwixte friends in disputation),<br/> +There fell a strife betwixt his brethren two,<br/> +Of which that one was called Placebo,<br/> +Justinus soothly called was that other. +</p> + +<p> +Placebo said; “O January, brother,<br/> +Full little need have ye, my lord so dear,<br/> +Counsel to ask of any that is here:<br/> +But that ye be so full of sapience,<br/> +That you not liketh, for your high prudence,<br/> +To waive* from the word of Solomon. *depart, deviate<br/> +This word said he unto us every one;<br/> +Work alle thing by counsel, — thus said he, —<br/> +And thenne shalt thou not repente thee<br/> +But though that Solomon spake such a word,<br/> +Mine owen deare brother and my lord,<br/> +So wisly* God my soule bring at rest, *surely<br/> +I hold your owen counsel is the best.<br/> +For, brother mine, take of me this motive; * *advice, encouragement<br/> +I have now been a court-man all my life,<br/> +And, God it wot, though I unworthy be,<br/> +I have standen in full great degree<br/> +Aboute lordes of full high estate;<br/> +Yet had I ne’er with none of them debate;<br/> +I never them contraried truely.<br/> +I know well that my lord can* more than I; *knows<br/> +What that he saith I hold it firm and stable,<br/> +I say the same, or else a thing semblable.<br/> +A full great fool is any counsellor<br/> +That serveth any lord of high honour<br/> +That dare presume, or ones thinken it;<br/> +That his counsel should pass his lorde’s wit.<br/> +Nay, lordes be no fooles by my fay.<br/> +Ye have yourselfe shewed here to day<br/> +So high sentence,* so holily and well *judgment, sentiment<br/> +That I consent, and confirm *every deal* *in every point*<br/> +Your wordes all, and your opinioun<br/> +By God, there is no man in all this town<br/> +Nor in Itale, could better have y-said.<br/> +Christ holds him of this counsel well apaid.* *satisfied<br/> +And truely it is a high courage<br/> +Of any man that stopen* is in age, *advanced <6><br/> +To take a young wife, by my father’s kin;<br/> +Your hearte hangeth on a jolly pin.<br/> +Do now in this matter right as you lest,<br/> +For finally I hold it for the best.” +</p> + +<p> +Justinus, that aye stille sat and heard,<br/> +Right in this wise to Placebo answer’d.<br/> +“Now, brother mine, be patient I pray,<br/> +Since ye have said, and hearken what I say.<br/> +Senec, among his other wordes wise,<br/> +Saith, that a man ought him right well advise,* *consider<br/> +To whom he gives his hand or his chattel.<br/> +And since I ought advise me right well<br/> +To whom I give my good away from me,<br/> +Well more I ought advise me, pardie,<br/> +To whom I give my body: for alway<br/> +I warn you well it is no childe’s play<br/> +To take a wife without advisement.<br/> +Men must inquire (this is mine assent)<br/> +Whe’er she be wise, or sober, or dronkelew,* *given to drink<br/> +Or proud, or any other ways a shrew,<br/> +A chidester,* or a waster of thy good, *a scold<br/> +Or rich or poor; or else a man is wood.* *mad<br/> +Albeit so, that no man finde shall<br/> +None in this world, that *trotteth whole in all,* *is sound in<br/> +No man, nor beast, such as men can devise,* every point* *describe<br/> +But nathehess it ought enough suffice<br/> +With any wife, if so were that she had<br/> +More goode thewes* than her vices bad: * qualities<br/> +And all this asketh leisure to inquere.<br/> +For, God it wot, I have wept many a tear<br/> +Full privily, since I have had a wife.<br/> +Praise whoso will a wedded manne’s life,<br/> +Certes, I find in it but cost and care,<br/> +And observances of all blisses bare.<br/> +And yet, God wot, my neighebours about,<br/> +And namely* of women many a rout,** *especially **company<br/> +Say that I have the moste steadfast wife,<br/> +And eke the meekest one, that beareth life.<br/> +But I know best where wringeth* me my shoe, *pinches<br/> +Ye may for me right as you like do<br/> +Advise you, ye be a man of age,<br/> +How that ye enter into marriage;<br/> +And namely* with a young wife and a fair, * especially<br/> +By him that made water, fire, earth, air,<br/> +The youngest man that is in all this rout* *company<br/> +Is busy enough to bringen it about<br/> +To have his wife alone, truste me:<br/> +Ye shall not please her fully yeares three,<br/> +This is to say, to do her full pleasance.<br/> +A wife asketh full many an observance.<br/> +I pray you that ye be not *evil apaid.”* *displeased* +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” quoth this January, “and hast thou said?<br/> +Straw for thy Senec, and for thy proverbs,<br/> +I counte not a pannier full of herbs<br/> +Of schoole termes; wiser men than thou,<br/> +As thou hast heard, assented here right now<br/> +To my purpose: Placebo, what say ye?”<br/> +“I say it is a cursed* man,” quoth he, *ill-natured, wicked<br/> +“That letteth* matrimony, sickerly.” *hindereth<br/> +And with that word they rise up suddenly,<br/> +And be assented fully, that he should<br/> +Be wedded when him list, and where he would. +</p> + +<p> +High fantasy and curious business<br/> +From day to day gan in the soul impress* *imprint themselves<br/> +Of January about his marriage<br/> +Many a fair shape, and many a fair visage<br/> +There passed through his hearte night by night.<br/> +As whoso took a mirror polish’d bright,<br/> +And set it in a common market-place,<br/> +Then should he see many a figure pace<br/> +By his mirror; and in the same wise<br/> +Gan January in his thought devise<br/> +Of maidens, which that dwelte him beside:<br/> +He wiste not where that he might abide.* *stay, fix his choice<br/> +For if that one had beauty in her face,<br/> +Another stood so in the people’s grace<br/> +For her sadness* and her benignity, *sedateness<br/> +That of the people greatest voice had she:<br/> +And some were rich and had a badde name.<br/> +But natheless, betwixt earnest and game,<br/> +He at the last appointed him on one,<br/> +And let all others from his hearte gon,<br/> +And chose her of his own authority;<br/> +For love is blind all day, and may not see.<br/> +And when that he was into bed y-brought,<br/> +He pourtray’d in his heart and in his thought<br/> +Her freshe beauty, and her age tender,<br/> +Her middle small, her armes long and slender,<br/> +Her wise governance, her gentleness,<br/> +Her womanly bearing, and her sadness.* *sedateness<br/> +And when that he *on her was condescended,* *had selected her*<br/> +He thought his choice might not be amended;<br/> +For when that he himself concluded had,<br/> +He thought each other manne’ s wit so bad,<br/> +That impossible it were to reply<br/> +Against his choice; this was his fantasy.<br/> +His friendes sent he to, at his instance,<br/> +And prayed them to do him that pleasance,<br/> +That hastily they would unto him come;<br/> +He would abridge their labour all and some:<br/> +Needed no more for them to go nor ride,<7><br/> +*He was appointed where he would abide.* *he had definitively +</p> + +<p> +Placebo came, and eke his friendes soon, made his choice*<br/> +And *alderfirst he bade them all a boon,* *first of all he asked<br/> +That none of them no arguments would make a favour of them*<br/> +Against the purpose that he had y-take:<br/> +Which purpose was pleasant to God, said he,<br/> +And very ground of his prosperity.<br/> +He said, there was a maiden in the town,<br/> +Which that of beauty hadde great renown;<br/> +All* were it so she were of small degree, *although<br/> +Sufficed him her youth and her beauty;<br/> +Which maid, he said, he would have to his wife,<br/> +To lead in ease and holiness his life;<br/> +And thanked God, that he might have her all,<br/> +That no wight with his blisse parte* shall; *have a share<br/> +And prayed them to labour in this need,<br/> +And shape that he faile not to speed:<br/> +For then, he said, his spirit was at ease.<br/> +“Then is,” quoth he, “nothing may me displease,<br/> +Save one thing pricketh in my conscience,<br/> +The which I will rehearse in your presence.<br/> +I have,” quoth he, “heard said, full yore* ago, *long<br/> +There may no man have perfect blisses two,<br/> +This is to say, on earth and eke in heaven.<br/> +For though he keep him from the sinne’s seven,<br/> +And eke from every branch of thilke tree,<8><br/> +Yet is there so perfect felicity,<br/> +And so great *ease and lust,* in marriage, *comfort and pleasure*<br/> +That ev’r I am aghast,* now in mine age *ashamed, afraid<br/> +That I shall head now so merry a life,<br/> +So delicate, withoute woe or strife,<br/> +That I shall have mine heav’n on earthe here.<br/> +For since that very heav’n is bought so dear,<br/> +With tribulation and great penance,<br/> +How should I then, living in such pleasance<br/> +As alle wedded men do with their wives,<br/> +Come to the bliss where Christ *etern on live is?* *lives eternally*<br/> +This is my dread;* and ye, my brethren tway, *doubt<br/> +Assoile* me this question, I you pray.” *resolve, answer +</p> + +<p> +Justinus, which that hated his folly,<br/> +Answer’d anon right in his japery;* *mockery, jesting way<br/> +And, for he would his longe tale abridge,<br/> +He woulde no authority* allege, *written texts<br/> +But saide; “Sir, so there be none obstacle<br/> +Other than this, God of his high miracle,<br/> +And of his mercy, may so for you wirch,* *work<br/> +That, ere ye have your rights of holy church,<br/> +Ye may repent of wedded manne’s life,<br/> +In which ye say there is no woe nor strife:<br/> +And elles God forbid, *but if* he sent *unless<br/> +A wedded man his grace him to repent<br/> +Well often, rather than a single man.<br/> +And therefore, Sir, *the beste rede I can,* *this is the best counsel<br/> +Despair you not, but have in your memory, that I know*<br/> +Paraventure she may be your purgatory;<br/> +She may be Godde’s means, and Godde’s whip;<br/> +And then your soul shall up to heaven skip<br/> +Swifter than doth an arrow from a bow.<br/> +I hope to God hereafter ye shall know<br/> +That there is none so great felicity<br/> +In marriage, nor ever more shall be,<br/> +That you shall let* of your salvation; *hinder<br/> +So that ye use, as skill is and reason,<br/> +The lustes* of your wife attemperly,** *pleasures **moderately<br/> +And that ye please her not too amorously,<br/> +And that ye keep you eke from other sin.<br/> +My tale is done, for my wit is but thin.<br/> +Be not aghast* hereof, my brother dear, *aharmed, afraid<br/> +But let us waden out of this mattere,<br/> +The Wife of Bath, if ye have understand,<br/> +Of marriage, which ye have now in hand,<br/> +Declared hath full well in little space;<br/> +Fare ye now well, God have you in his grace.” +</p> + +<p> +And with this word this Justin’ and his brother<br/> +Have ta’en their leave, and each of them of other.<br/> +And when they saw that it must needes be,<br/> +They wroughte so, by sleight and wise treaty,<br/> +That she, this maiden, which that *Maius hight,* *was named May*<br/> +As hastily as ever that she might,<br/> +Shall wedded be unto this January.<br/> +I trow it were too longe you to tarry,<br/> +If I told you of every *script and band* *written bond*<br/> +By which she was feoffed in his hand;<br/> +Or for to reckon of her rich array<br/> +But finally y-comen is the day<br/> +That to the churche bothe be they went,<br/> +For to receive the holy sacrament,<br/> +Forth came the priest, with stole about his neck,<br/> +And bade her be like Sarah and Rebecc’<br/> +In wisdom and in truth of marriage;<br/> +And said his orisons, as is usage,<br/> +And crouched* them, and prayed God should them bless, *crossed<br/> +And made all sicker* enough with holiness. *certain +</p> + +<p> +Thus be they wedded with solemnity;<br/> +And at the feaste sat both he and she,<br/> +With other worthy folk, upon the dais.<br/> +All full of joy and bliss is the palace,<br/> +And full of instruments, and of vitaille, * *victuals, food<br/> +The moste dainteous* of all Itale. *delicate<br/> +Before them stood such instruments of soun’,<br/> +That Orpheus, nor of Thebes Amphioun,<br/> +Ne made never such a melody.<br/> +At every course came in loud minstrelsy,<br/> +That never Joab trumped for to hear,<br/> +Nor he, Theodomas, yet half so clear<br/> +At Thebes, when the city was in doubt.<br/> +Bacchus the wine them skinked* all about. *poured <9><br/> +And Venus laughed upon every wight<br/> +(For January was become her knight,<br/> +And woulde both assaye his courage<br/> +In liberty, and eke in marriage),<br/> +And with her firebrand in her hand about<br/> +Danced before the bride and all the rout.<br/> +And certainly I dare right well say this,<br/> +Hymeneus, that god of wedding is,<br/> +Saw never his life so merry a wedded man.<br/> +Hold thou thy peace, thou poet Marcian,<10><br/> +That writest us that ilke* wedding merry *same<br/> +Of her Philology and him Mercury,<br/> +And of the songes that the Muses sung;<br/> +Too small is both thy pen, and eke thy tongue<br/> +For to describen of this marriage.<br/> +When tender youth hath wedded stooping age,<br/> +There is such mirth that it may not be writ;<br/> +Assay it youreself, then may ye wit* *know<br/> +If that I lie or no in this mattere. +</p> + +<p> +Maius, that sat with so benign a cheer,* *countenance<br/> +Her to behold it seemed faerie;<br/> +Queen Esther never look’d with such an eye<br/> +On Assuere, so meek a look had she;<br/> +I may you not devise all her beauty;<br/> +But thus much of her beauty tell I may,<br/> +That she was hike the bright morrow of May<br/> +Full filled of all beauty and pleasance.<br/> +This January is ravish’d in a trance,<br/> +At every time he looked in her face;<br/> +But in his heart he gan her to menace,<br/> +That he that night in armes would her strain<br/> +Harder than ever Paris did Helene.<br/> +But natheless yet had he great pity<br/> +That thilke night offende her must he,<br/> +And thought, “Alas, O tender creature,<br/> +Now woulde God ye mighte well endure<br/> +All my courage, it is so sharp and keen;<br/> +I am aghast* ye shall it not sustene. *afraid<br/> +But God forbid that I did all my might.<br/> +Now woulde God that it were waxen night,<br/> +And that the night would lasten evermo’.<br/> +I would that all this people were y-go.”* *gone away<br/> +And finally he did all his labour,<br/> +As he best mighte, saving his honour,<br/> +To haste them from the meat in subtle wise. +</p> + +<p> +The time came that reason was to rise;<br/> +And after that men dance, and drinke fast,<br/> +And spices all about the house they cast,<br/> +And full of joy and bliss is every man,<br/> +All but a squire, that highte Damian,<br/> +Who carv’d before the knight full many a day;<br/> +He was so ravish’d on his lady May,<br/> +That for the very pain he was nigh wood;* *mad<br/> +Almost he swelt* and swooned where he stood, *fainted<br/> +So sore had Venus hurt him with her brand,<br/> +As that she bare it dancing in her hand.<br/> +And to his bed he went him hastily;<br/> +No more of him as at this time speak I;<br/> +But there I let him weep enough and plain,* *bewail<br/> +Till freshe May will rue upon his pain.<br/> +O perilous fire, that in the bedstraw breedeth!<br/> +O foe familiar,* that his service bedeth!** *domestic <11> **offers<br/> +O servant traitor, O false homely hewe,* *servant <12><br/> +Like to the adder in bosom shy untrue,<br/> +God shield us alle from your acquaintance!<br/> +O January, drunken in pleasance<br/> +Of marriage, see how thy Damian,<br/> +Thine owen squier and thy boren* man, *born <13><br/> +Intendeth for to do thee villainy:* *dishonour, outrage<br/> +God grante thee thine *homehy foe* t’ espy. *enemy in the household*<br/> +For in this world is no worse pestilence<br/> +Than homely foe, all day in thy presence. +</p> + +<p> +Performed hath the sun his arc diurn,* *daily<br/> +No longer may the body of him sojourn<br/> +On the horizon, in that latitude:<br/> +Night with his mantle, that is dark and rude,<br/> +Gan overspread the hemisphere about:<br/> +For which departed is this *lusty rout* *pleasant company*<br/> +From January, with thank on every side.<br/> +Home to their houses lustily they ride,<br/> +Where as they do their thinges as them lest,<br/> +And when they see their time they go to rest.<br/> +Soon after that this hasty* January *eager<br/> +Will go to bed, he will no longer tarry.<br/> +He dranke hippocras, clarre, and vernage <14><br/> +Of spices hot, to increase his courage;<br/> +And many a lectuary* had he full fine, *potion<br/> +Such as the cursed monk Dan Constantine<15><br/> +Hath written in his book *de Coitu;* *of sexual intercourse*<br/> +To eat them all he would nothing eschew:<br/> +And to his privy friendes thus said he:<br/> +“For Godde’s love, as soon as it may be,<br/> +Let *voiden all* this house in courteous wise.” *everyone leave*<br/> +And they have done right as he will devise.<br/> +Men drinken, and the travers* draw anon; *curtains<br/> +The bride is brought to bed as still as stone;<br/> +And when the bed was with the priest y-bless’d,<br/> +Out of the chamber every wight him dress’d,<br/> +And January hath fast in arms y-take<br/> +His freshe May, his paradise, his make.* *mate<br/> +He lulled her, he kissed her full oft;<br/> +With thicke bristles of his beard unsoft,<br/> +Like to the skin of houndfish,* sharp as brere** *dogfish **briar<br/> +(For he was shav’n all new in his mannere),<br/> +He rubbed her upon her tender face,<br/> +And saide thus; “Alas! I must trespace<br/> +To you, my spouse, and you greatly offend,<br/> +Ere time come that I will down descend.<br/> +But natheless consider this,” quoth he,<br/> +“There is no workman, whatsoe’er he be,<br/> +That may both worke well and hastily:<br/> +This will be done at leisure perfectly.<br/> +It is *no force* how longe that we play; *no matter*<br/> +In true wedlock coupled be we tway;<br/> +And blessed be the yoke that we be in,<br/> +For in our actes may there be no sin.<br/> +A man may do no sinne with his wife,<br/> +Nor hurt himselfe with his owen knife;<br/> +For we have leave to play us by the law.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus labour’d he, till that the day gan daw,<br/> +And then he took a sop in fine clarre,<br/> +And upright in his bedde then sat he.<br/> +And after that he sang full loud and clear,<br/> +And kiss’d his wife, and made wanton cheer.<br/> +He was all coltish, full of ragerie * *wantonness<br/> +And full of jargon as a flecked pie.<16><br/> +The slacke skin about his necke shaked,<br/> +While that he sang, so chanted he and craked.* *quavered<br/> +But God wot what that May thought in her heart,<br/> +When she him saw up sitting in his shirt<br/> +In his night-cap, and with his necke lean:<br/> +She praised not his playing worth a bean.<br/> +Then said he thus; “My reste will I take<br/> +Now day is come, I may no longer wake;<br/> +And down he laid his head and slept till prime.<br/> +And afterward, when that he saw his time,<br/> +Up rose January, but freshe May<br/> +Helde her chamber till the fourthe day,<br/> +As usage is of wives for the best.<br/> +For every labour some time must have rest,<br/> +Or elles longe may he not endure;<br/> +This is to say, no life of creature,<br/> +Be it of fish, or bird, or beast, or man. +</p> + +<p> +Now will I speak of woeful Damian,<br/> +That languisheth for love, as ye shall hear;<br/> +Therefore I speak to him in this manneare.<br/> +I say. “O silly Damian, alas!<br/> +Answer to this demand, as in this case,<br/> +How shalt thou to thy lady, freshe May,<br/> +Telle thy woe? She will alway say nay;<br/> +Eke if thou speak, she will thy woe bewray; * *betray<br/> +God be thine help, I can no better say.<br/> +This sicke Damian in Venus’ fire<br/> +So burned that he died for desire;<br/> +For which he put his life *in aventure,* *at risk*<br/> +No longer might he in this wise endure;<br/> +But privily a penner* gan he borrow, *writing-case<br/> +And in a letter wrote he all his sorrow,<br/> +In manner of a complaint or a lay,<br/> +Unto his faire freshe lady May.<br/> +And in a purse of silk, hung on his shirt,<br/> +He hath it put, and laid it at his heart. +</p> + +<p> +The moone, that at noon was thilke* day *that<br/> +That January had wedded freshe May,<br/> +In ten of Taure, was into Cancer glided;<17><br/> +So long had Maius in her chamber abided,<br/> +As custom is unto these nobles all.<br/> +A bride shall not eaten in the ball<br/> +Till dayes four, or three days at the least,<br/> +Y-passed be; then let her go to feast.<br/> +The fourthe day complete from noon to noon,<br/> +When that the highe masse was y-done,<br/> +In halle sat this January, and May,<br/> +As fresh as is the brighte summer’s day.<br/> +And so befell, how that this goode man<br/> +Remember’d him upon this Damian.<br/> +And saide; “Saint Mary, how may this be,<br/> +That Damian attendeth not to me?<br/> +Is he aye sick? or how may this betide?”<br/> +His squiers, which that stoode there beside,<br/> +Excused him, because of his sickness,<br/> +Which letted* him to do his business: *hindered<br/> +None other cause mighte make him tarry.<br/> +“That me forthinketh,”* quoth this January *grieves, causes<br/> +“He is a gentle squier, by my truth; uneasiness<br/> +If that he died, it were great harm and ruth.<br/> +He is as wise, as discreet, and secre’,* *secret, trusty<br/> +As any man I know of his degree,<br/> +And thereto manly and eke serviceble,<br/> +And for to be a thrifty man right able.<br/> +But after meat, as soon as ever I may<br/> +I will myself visit him, and eke May,<br/> +To do him all the comfort that I can.”<br/> +And for that word him blessed every man,<br/> +That of his bounty and his gentleness<br/> +He woulde so comforten in sickness<br/> +His squier, for it was a gentle deed. +</p> + +<p> +“Dame,” quoth this January, “take good heed,<br/> +At after meat, ye with your women all<br/> +(When that ye be in chamb’r out of this hall),<br/> +That all ye go to see this Damian:<br/> +Do him disport, he is a gentle man;<br/> +And telle him that I will him visite,<br/> +*Have I nothing but rested me a lite:* *when only I have rested<br/> +And speed you faste, for I will abide me a little*<br/> +Till that ye sleepe faste by my side.”<br/> +And with that word he gan unto him call<br/> +A squier, that was marshal of his hall,<br/> +And told him certain thinges that he wo’ld.<br/> +This freshe May hath straight her way y-hold,<br/> +With all her women, unto Damian.<br/> +Down by his beddes side sat she than,* *then<br/> +Comforting him as goodly as she may.<br/> +This Damian, when that his time he say,* *saw<br/> +In secret wise his purse, and eke his bill,<br/> +In which that he y-written had his will,<br/> +Hath put into her hand withoute more,<br/> +Save that he sighed wondrous deep and sore,<br/> +And softely to her right thus said he:<br/> +“Mercy, and that ye not discover me:<br/> +For I am dead if that this thing be kid.”* *discovered <18><br/> +The purse hath she in her bosom hid,<br/> +And went her way; ye get no more of me;<br/> +But unto January come is she,<br/> +That on his bedde’s side sat full soft.<br/> +He took her, and he kissed her full oft,<br/> +And laid him down to sleep, and that anon.<br/> +She feigned her as that she muste gon<br/> +There as ye know that every wight must need;<br/> +And when she of this bill had taken heed,<br/> +She rent it all to cloutes* at the last, *fragments<br/> +And in the privy softely it cast.<br/> +Who studieth* now but faire freshe May? *is thoughtful<br/> +Adown by olde January she lay,<br/> +That slepte, till the cough had him awaked:<br/> +Anon he pray’d her strippe her all naked,<br/> +He would of her, he said, have some pleasance;<br/> +And said her clothes did him incumbrance.<br/> +And she obey’d him, be her *lefe or loth.* *willing or unwilling*<br/> +But, lest that precious* folk be with me wroth, *over-nice <19><br/> +How that he wrought I dare not to you tell,<br/> +Or whether she thought it paradise or hell;<br/> +But there I let them worken in their wise<br/> +Till evensong ring, and they must arise. +</p> + +<p> +Were it by destiny, or aventure,* * chance<br/> +Were it by influence, or by nature,<br/> +Or constellation, that in such estate<br/> +The heaven stood at that time fortunate<br/> +As for to put a bill of Venus’ works<br/> +(For alle thing hath time, as say these clerks),<br/> +To any woman for to get her love,<br/> +I cannot say; but greate God above,<br/> +That knoweth that none act is causeless,<br/> +*He deem* of all, for I will hold my peace. *let him judge*<br/> +But sooth is this, how that this freshe May<br/> +Hath taken such impression that day<br/> +Of pity on this sicke Damian,<br/> +That from her hearte she not drive can<br/> +The remembrance for *to do him ease.* *to satisfy<br/> +“Certain,” thought she, “whom that this thing displease his desire*<br/> +I recke not, for here I him assure,<br/> +To love him best of any creature,<br/> +Though he no more haddee than his shirt.”<br/> +Lo, pity runneth soon in gentle heart.<br/> +Here may ye see, how excellent franchise* *generosity<br/> +In women is when they them *narrow advise.* *closely consider*<br/> +Some tyrant is, — as there be many a one, —<br/> +That hath a heart as hard as any stone,<br/> +Which would have let him sterven* in the place *die<br/> +Well rather than have granted him her grace;<br/> +And then rejoicen in her cruel pride.<br/> +And reckon not to be a homicide.<br/> +This gentle May, full filled of pity,<br/> +Right of her hand a letter maked she,<br/> +In which she granted him her very grace;<br/> +There lacked nought, but only day and place,<br/> +Where that she might unto his lust suffice:<br/> +For it shall be right as he will devise.<br/> +And when she saw her time upon a day<br/> +To visit this Damian went this May,<br/> +And subtilly this letter down she thrust<br/> +Under his pillow, read it if him lust.* *pleased<br/> +She took him by the hand, and hard him twist<br/> +So secretly, that no wight of it wist,<br/> +And bade him be all whole; and forth she went<br/> +To January, when he for her sent.<br/> +Up rose Damian the nexte morrow,<br/> +All passed was his sickness and his sorrow.<br/> +He combed him, he proined <20> him and picked,<br/> +He did all that unto his lady liked;<br/> +And eke to January he went as low<br/> +As ever did a dogge for the bow.<21><br/> +He is so pleasant unto every man<br/> +(For craft is all, whoso that do it can),<br/> +Every wight is fain to speak him good;<br/> +And fully in his lady’s grace he stood.<br/> +Thus leave I Damian about his need,<br/> +And in my tale forth I will proceed. +</p> + +<p> +Some clerke* holde that felicity *writers, scholars<br/> +Stands in delight; and therefore certain he,<br/> +This noble January, with all his might<br/> +In honest wise as longeth* to a knight, *belongeth<br/> +Shope* him to live full deliciously: *prepared, arranged<br/> +His housing, his array, as honestly* *honourably, suitably<br/> +To his degree was maked as a king’s.<br/> +Amonges other of his honest things<br/> +He had a garden walled all with stone;<br/> +So fair a garden wot I nowhere none.<br/> +For out of doubt I verily suppose<br/> +That he that wrote the Romance of the Rose <22><br/> +Could not of it the beauty well devise;* *describe<br/> +Nor Priapus <23> mighte not well suffice,<br/> +Though he be god of gardens, for to tell<br/> +The beauty of the garden, and the well* *fountain<br/> +That stood under a laurel always green.<br/> +Full often time he, Pluto, and his queen<br/> +Proserpina, and all their faerie,<br/> +Disported them and made melody<br/> +About that well, and danced, as men told.<br/> +This noble knight, this January old<br/> +Such dainty* had in it to walk and play, *pleasure<br/> +That he would suffer no wight to bear the key,<br/> +Save he himself, for of the small wicket<br/> +He bare always of silver a cliket,* *key<br/> +With which, when that him list, he it unshet.* *opened<br/> +And when that he would pay his wife’s debt,<br/> +In summer season, thither would he go,<br/> +And May his wife, and no wight but they two;<br/> +And thinges which that were not done in bed,<br/> +He in the garden them perform’d and sped.<br/> +And in this wise many a merry day<br/> +Lived this January and fresh May,<br/> +But worldly joy may not always endure<br/> +To January, nor to no creatucere. +</p> + +<p> +O sudden hap! O thou fortune unstable!<br/> +Like to the scorpion so deceivable,* *deceitful<br/> +That fhatt’rest with thy head when thou wilt sting;<br/> +Thy tail is death, through thine envenoming.<br/> +O brittle joy! O sweete poison quaint!* *strange<br/> +O monster, that so subtilly canst paint<br/> +Thy giftes, under hue of steadfastness,<br/> +That thou deceivest bothe *more and less!* *great and small*<br/> +Why hast thou January thus deceiv’d,<br/> +That haddest him for thy full friend receiv’d?<br/> +And now thou hast bereft him both his eyen,<br/> +For sorrow of which desireth he to dien.<br/> +Alas! this noble January free,<br/> +Amid his lust* and his prosperity *pleasure<br/> +Is waxen blind, and that all suddenly.<br/> +He weeped and he wailed piteously;<br/> +And therewithal the fire of jealousy<br/> +(Lest that his wife should fall in some folly)<br/> +So burnt his hearte, that he woulde fain,<br/> +That some man bothe him and her had slain;<br/> +For neither after his death, nor in his life,<br/> +Ne would he that she were no love nor wife,<br/> +But ever live as widow in clothes black,<br/> +Sole as the turtle that hath lost her make.* *mate<br/> +But at the last, after a month or tway,<br/> +His sorrow gan assuage, soothe to say.<br/> +For, when he wist it might none other be,<br/> +He patiently took his adversity:<br/> +Save out of doubte he may not foregon<br/> +That he was jealous evermore-in-one:* *continually<br/> +Which jealousy was so outrageous,<br/> +That neither in hall, nor in none other house,<br/> +Nor in none other place never the mo’<br/> +He woulde suffer her to ride or go,<br/> +*But if* that he had hand on her alway. *unless<br/> +For which full often wepte freshe May,<br/> +That loved Damian so burningly<br/> +That she must either dien suddenly,<br/> +Or elles she must have him as her lest:* *pleased<br/> +She waited* when her hearte woulde brest.** *expected **burst<br/> +Upon that other side Damian<br/> +Becomen is the sorrowfullest man<br/> +That ever was; for neither night nor day<br/> +He mighte speak a word to freshe May,<br/> +As to his purpose, of no such mattere,<br/> +*But if* that January must it hear, *unless*<br/> +That had a hand upon her evermo’.<br/> +But natheless, by writing to and fro,<br/> +And privy signes, wist he what she meant,<br/> +And she knew eke the fine* of his intent. *end, aim +</p> + +<p> +O January, what might it thee avail,<br/> +Though thou might see as far as shippes sail?<br/> +For as good is it blind deceiv’d to be,<br/> +As be deceived when a man may see.<br/> +Lo, Argus, which that had a hundred eyen, <24><br/> +For all that ever he could pore or pryen,<br/> +Yet was he blent;* and, God wot, so be mo’, *deceived<br/> +That *weene wisly* that it be not so: *think confidently*<br/> +Pass over is an ease, I say no more.<br/> +This freshe May, of which I spake yore,* *previously<br/> +In warm wax hath *imprinted the cliket* *taken an impression<br/> +That January bare of the small wicket of the key*<br/> +By which into his garden oft he went;<br/> +And Damian, that knew all her intent,<br/> +The cliket counterfeited privily;<br/> +There is no more to say, but hastily<br/> +Some wonder by this cliket shall betide,<br/> +Which ye shall hearen, if ye will abide. +</p> + +<p> +O noble Ovid, sooth say’st thou, God wot,<br/> +What sleight is it, if love be long and hot,<br/> +That he’ll not find it out in some mannere?<br/> +By Pyramus and Thisbe may men lear;* *learn<br/> +Though they were kept full long and strait o’er all,<br/> +They be accorded,* rowning** through a wall, *agreed **whispering<br/> +Where no wight could have found out such a sleight.<br/> +But now to purpose; ere that dayes eight<br/> +Were passed of the month of July, fill* *it befell<br/> +That January caught so great a will,<br/> +Through egging* of his wife, him for to play *inciting<br/> +In his garden, and no wight but they tway,<br/> +That in a morning to this May said he: <25><br/> +“Rise up, my wife, my love, my lady free;<br/> +The turtle’s voice is heard, mine owen sweet;<br/> +The winter is gone, with all his raines weet.* *wet<br/> +Come forth now with thine *eyen columbine* *eyes like the doves*<br/> +Well fairer be thy breasts than any wine.<br/> +The garden is enclosed all about;<br/> +Come forth, my white spouse; for, out of doubt,<br/> +Thou hast me wounded in mine heart, O wife:<br/> +No spot in thee was e’er in all thy life.<br/> +Come forth, and let us taken our disport;<br/> +I choose thee for my wife and my comfort.”<br/> +Such olde lewed* wordes used he. *foolish, ignorant<br/> +On Damian a signe made she,<br/> +That he should go before with his cliket.<br/> +This Damian then hath opened the wicket,<br/> +And in he start, and that in such mannere<br/> +That no wight might him either see or hear;<br/> +And still he sat under a bush. Anon<br/> +This January, as blind as is a stone,<br/> +With Maius in his hand, and no wight mo’,<br/> +Into this freshe garden is y-go,<br/> +And clapped to the wicket suddenly.<br/> +“Now, wife,” quoth he, “here is but thou and I;<br/> +Thou art the creature that I beste love:<br/> +For, by that Lord that sits in heav’n above,<br/> +Lever* I had to dien on a knife, *rather<br/> +Than thee offende, deare true wife.<br/> +For Godde’s sake, think how I thee chees,* *chose<br/> +Not for no covetise* doubteless, * covetousness<br/> +But only for the love I had to thee.<br/> +And though that I be old, and may not see,<br/> +Be to me true, and I will tell you why.<br/> +Certes three thinges shall ye win thereby:<br/> +First, love of Christ, and to yourself honour,<br/> +And all mine heritage, town and tow’r.<br/> +I give it you, make charters as you lest;<br/> +This shall be done to-morrow ere sun rest,<br/> +So wisly* God my soule bring to bliss! *surely<br/> +I pray you, on this covenant me kiss.<br/> +And though that I be jealous, wite* me not; *blame<br/> +Ye be so deep imprinted in my thought,<br/> +That when that I consider your beauty,<br/> +And therewithal *th’unlikely eld* of me, *dissimilar age*<br/> +I may not, certes, though I shoulde die,<br/> +Forbear to be out of your company,<br/> +For very love; this is withoute doubt:<br/> +Now kiss me, wife, and let us roam about.” +</p> + +<p> +This freshe May, when she these wordes heard,<br/> +Benignely to January answer’d;<br/> +But first and forward she began to weep:<br/> +“I have,” quoth she, “a soule for to keep<br/> +As well as ye, and also mine honour,<br/> +And of my wifehood thilke* tender flow’r *that same<br/> +Which that I have assured in your hond,<br/> +When that the priest to you my body bond:<br/> +Wherefore I will answer in this mannere,<br/> +With leave of you mine owen lord so dear.<br/> +I pray to God, that never dawn the day<br/> +That I *no sterve,* as foul as woman may, *do not die*<br/> +If e’er I do unto my kin that shame,<br/> +Or elles I impaire so my name,<br/> +That I bee false; and if I do that lack,<br/> +Do strippe me, and put me in a sack,<br/> +And in the nexte river do me drench:* *drown<br/> +I am a gentle woman, and no wench.<br/> +Why speak ye thus? but men be e’er untrue,<br/> +And women have reproof of you aye new.<br/> +Ye know none other dalliance, I believe,<br/> +But speak to us of untrust and repreve.”* *reproof +</p> + +<p> +And with that word she saw where Damian<br/> +Sat in the bush, and coughe she began;<br/> +And with her finger signe made she,<br/> +That Damian should climb upon a tree<br/> +That charged was with fruit; and up he went:<br/> +For verily he knew all her intent,<br/> +And every signe that she coulde make,<br/> +Better than January her own make.* *mate<br/> +For in a letter she had told him all<br/> +Of this matter, how that he worke shall.<br/> +And thus I leave him sitting in the perry,* *pear-tree<br/> +And January and May roaming full merry. +</p> + +<p> +Bright was the day, and blue the firmament;<br/> +Phoebus of gold his streames down had sent<br/> +To gladden every flow’r with his warmness;<br/> +He was that time in Geminis, I guess,<br/> +But little from his declination<br/> +Of Cancer, Jove’s exaltation.<br/> +And so befell, in that bright morning-tide,<br/> +That in the garden, on the farther side,<br/> +Pluto, that is the king of Faerie,<br/> +And many a lady in his company<br/> +Following his wife, the queen Proserpina, —<br/> +Which that he ravished out of Ethna,<26><br/> +While that she gather’d flowers in the mead<br/> +(In Claudian ye may the story read,<br/> +How in his grisly chariot he her fet*), — *fetched<br/> +This king of Faerie adown him set<br/> +Upon a bank of turfes fresh and green,<br/> +And right anon thus said he to his queen.<br/> +“My wife,” quoth he, “there may no wight say nay, —<br/> +Experience so proves it every day, —<br/> +The treason which that woman doth to man.<br/> +Ten hundred thousand stories tell I can<br/> +Notable of your untruth and brittleness * *inconstancy<br/> +O Solomon, richest of all richess,<br/> +Full fill’d of sapience and worldly glory,<br/> +Full worthy be thy wordes of memory<br/> +To every wight that wit and reason can. * *knows<br/> +Thus praised he yet the bounte* of man: *goodness<br/> +‘Among a thousand men yet found I one,<br/> +But of all women found I never none.’ <27><br/> +Thus said this king, that knew your wickedness;<br/> +And Jesus, Filius Sirach, <28> as I guess,<br/> +He spake of you but seldom reverence.<br/> +A wilde fire and corrupt pestilence<br/> +So fall upon your bodies yet to-night!<br/> +Ne see ye not this honourable knight?<br/> +Because, alas! that he is blind and old,<br/> +His owen man shall make him cuckold.<br/> +Lo, where he sits, the lechour, in the tree.<br/> +Now will I granten, of my majesty,<br/> +Unto this olde blinde worthy knight,<br/> +That he shall have again his eyen sight,<br/> +When that his wife will do him villainy;<br/> +Then shall be knowen all her harlotry,<br/> +Both in reproof of her and other mo’.”<br/> +“Yea, Sir,” quoth Proserpine,” and will ye so?<br/> +Now by my mother Ceres’ soul I swear<br/> +That I shall give her suffisant answer,<br/> +And alle women after, for her sake;<br/> +That though they be in any guilt y-take,<br/> +With face bold they shall themselves excuse,<br/> +And bear them down that woulde them accuse.<br/> +For lack of answer, none of them shall dien. +</p> + +<p> +All* had ye seen a thing with both your eyen, *although<br/> +Yet shall *we visage it* so hardily, *confront it*<br/> +And weep, and swear, and chide subtilly,<br/> +That ye shall be as lewed* as be geese. *ignorant, confounded<br/> +What recketh me of your authorities?<br/> +I wot well that this Jew, this Solomon,<br/> +Found of us women fooles many one:<br/> +But though that he founde no good woman,<br/> +Yet there hath found many another man<br/> +Women full good, and true, and virtuous;<br/> +Witness on them that dwelt in Christes house;<br/> +With martyrdom they proved their constance.<br/> +The Roman gestes <29> make remembrance<br/> +Of many a very true wife also.<br/> +But, Sire, be not wroth, albeit so,<br/> +Though that he said he found no good woman,<br/> +I pray you take the sentence* of the man: *opinion, real meaning<br/> +He meant thus, that in *sovereign bounte* *perfect goodness<br/> +Is none but God, no, neither *he nor she.* *man nor woman*<br/> +Hey, for the very God that is but one,<br/> +Why make ye so much of Solomon?<br/> +What though he made a temple, Godde’s house?<br/> +What though he were rich and glorious?<br/> +So made he eke a temple of false goddes;<br/> +How might he do a thing that more forbode* is? *forbidden<br/> +Pardie, as fair as ye his name emplaster,* *plaster over, “whitewash”<br/> +He was a lechour, and an idolaster,* *idohater<br/> +And in his eld he very* God forsook. *the true<br/> +And if that God had not (as saith the book)<br/> +Spared him for his father’s sake, he should<br/> +Have lost his regne* rather** than he would. *kingdom **sooner<br/> +I *sette not of* all the villainy *value not*<br/> +That he of women wrote, a butterfly.<br/> +I am a woman, needes must I speak,<br/> +Or elles swell until mine hearte break.<br/> +For since he said that we be jangleresses,* *chatterers<br/> +As ever may I brooke* whole my tresses, *preserve<br/> +I shall not spare for no courtesy<br/> +To speak him harm, that said us villainy.”<br/> +“Dame,” quoth this Pluto, “be no longer wroth;<br/> +I give it up: but, since I swore mine oath<br/> +That I would grant to him his sight again,<br/> +My word shall stand, that warn I you certain:<br/> +I am a king; it sits* me not to lie.” *becomes, befits<br/> +“And I,” quoth she, “am queen of Faerie.<br/> +Her answer she shall have, I undertake,<br/> +Let us no more wordes of it make.<br/> +Forsooth, I will no longer you contrary.” +</p> + +<p> +Now let us turn again to January,<br/> +That in the garden with his faire May<br/> +Singeth well merrier than the popinjay:* *parrot<br/> +“You love I best, and shall, and other none.”<br/> +So long about the alleys is he gone,<br/> +Till he was come to *that ilke perry,* *the same pear-tree*<br/> +Where as this Damian satte full merry<br/> +On high, among the freshe leaves green.<br/> +This freshe May, that is so bright and sheen,<br/> +Gan for to sigh, and said, “Alas my side!<br/> +Now, Sir,” quoth she, “for aught that may betide,<br/> +I must have of the peares that I see,<br/> +Or I must die, so sore longeth me<br/> +To eaten of the smalle peares green;<br/> +Help, for her love that is of heaven queen!<br/> +I tell you well, a woman in my plight <30><br/> +May have to fruit so great an appetite,<br/> +That she may dien, but* she of it have. “ *unless<br/> +“Alas!” quoth he, “that I had here a knave* *servant<br/> +That coulde climb; alas! alas!” quoth he,<br/> +“For I am blind.” “Yea, Sir, *no force,”* quoth she; *no matter*<br/> +“But would ye vouchesafe, for Godde’s sake,<br/> +The perry in your armes for to take<br/> +(For well I wot that ye mistruste me),<br/> +Then would I climbe well enough,” quoth she,<br/> +“So I my foot might set upon your back.”<br/> +“Certes,” said he, “therein shall be no lack,<br/> +Might I you helpe with mine hearte’s blood.”<br/> +He stooped down, and on his back she stood,<br/> +And caught her by a twist,* and up she go’th. *twig, bough<br/> +(Ladies, I pray you that ye be not wroth,<br/> +I cannot glose,* I am a rude man): *mince matters<br/> +And suddenly anon this Damian<br/> +Gan pullen up the smock, and in he throng.* *rushed <31><br/> +And when that Pluto saw this greate wrong,<br/> +To January he gave again his sight,<br/> +And made him see as well as ever he might.<br/> +And when he thus had caught his sight again,<br/> +Was never man of anything so fain:<br/> +But on his wife his thought was evermo’.<br/> +Up to the tree he cast his eyen two,<br/> +And saw how Damian his wife had dress’d,<br/> +In such mannere, it may not be express’d,<br/> +*But if* I woulde speak uncourteously. *unless*<br/> +And up he gave a roaring and a cry,<br/> +As doth the mother when the child shall die;<br/> +“Out! help! alas! harow!” he gan to cry;<br/> +“O stronge, lady, stowre! <32> what doest thou?” +</p> + +<p> +And she answered: “Sir, what aileth you?<br/> +Have patience and reason in your mind,<br/> +I have you help’d on both your eyen blind.<br/> +On peril of my soul, I shall not lien,<br/> +As me was taught to helpe with your eyen,<br/> +Was nothing better for to make you see,<br/> +Than struggle with a man upon a tree:<br/> +God wot, I did it in full good intent.”<br/> +“Struggle!” quoth he, “yea, algate* in it went. *whatever way<br/> +God give you both one shame’s death to dien!<br/> +He swived* thee; I saw it with mine eyen; *enjoyed carnally<br/> +And elles be I hanged by the halse.”* *neck<br/> +“Then is,” quoth she, “my medicine all false;<br/> +For certainly, if that ye mighte see,<br/> +Ye would not say these wordes unto me.<br/> +Ye have some glimpsing,* and no perfect sight.” *glimmering<br/> +“I see,” quoth he, “as well as ever I might,<br/> +(Thanked be God!) with both mine eyen two,<br/> +And by my faith me thought he did thee so.”<br/> +“Ye maze,* ye maze, goode Sir,” quoth she; *rave, are confused<br/> +“This thank have I for I have made you see:<br/> +Alas!” quoth she, “that e’er I was so kind.”<br/> +“Now, Dame,” quoth he, “let all pass out of mind;<br/> +Come down, my lefe,* and if I have missaid, *love<br/> +God help me so, as I am *evil apaid.* *dissatisfied*<br/> +But, by my father’s soul, I ween’d have seen<br/> +How that this Damian had by thee lain,<br/> +And that thy smock had lain upon his breast.”<br/> +“Yea, Sir,” quoth she, “ye may *ween as ye lest:* *think as you<br/> +But, Sir, a man that wakes out of his sleep, please*<br/> +He may not suddenly well take keep* *notice<br/> +Upon a thing, nor see it perfectly,<br/> +Till that he be adawed* verily. *awakened<br/> +Right so a man, that long hath blind y-be,<br/> +He may not suddenly so well y-see,<br/> +First when his sight is newe come again,<br/> +As he that hath a day or two y-seen.<br/> +Till that your sight establish’d be a while,<br/> +There may full many a sighte you beguile.<br/> +Beware, I pray you, for, by heaven’s king,<br/> +Full many a man weeneth to see a thing,<br/> +And it is all another than it seemeth;<br/> +He which that misconceiveth oft misdeemeth.”<br/> +And with that word she leapt down from the tree.<br/> +This January, who is glad but he?<br/> +He kissed her, and clipped* her full oft, *embraced<br/> +And on her womb he stroked her full soft;<br/> +And to his palace home he hath her lad.* *led<br/> +Now, goode men, I pray you to be glad.<br/> +Thus endeth here my tale of January,<br/> +God bless us, and his mother, Sainte Mary. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to The Merchant’s Tale +</p> + +<p> +1. If, as is probable, this Tale was translated from the French, +the original is not now extant. Tyrwhitt remarks that the scene +“is laid in Italy, but none of the names, except Damian and +Justin, seem to be Italian, but rather made at pleasure; so that I +doubt whether the story be really of Italian growth. The +adventure of the pear-tree I find in a small collection of Latin +fables, written by one Adoiphus, in elegiac verses of his fashion, +in the year 1315. . . . Whatever was the real origin of the Tale, +the machinery of the fairies, which Chaucer has used so happily, +was probably added by himself; and, indeed, I cannot help +thinking that his Pluto and Proserpina were the true progenitors +of Oberon and Titania; or rather, that they themselves have, +once at least, deigned to revisit our poetical system under the +latter names.” +</p> + +<p> +2. Seculeres: of the laity; but perhaps, since the word is of two- +fold meaning, Chaucer intends a hit at the secular clergy, who, +unlike the regular orders, did not live separate from the world, +but shared in all its interests and pleasures — all the more easily +and freely, that they had not the civil restraint of marriage. +</p> + +<p> +3. This and the next eight lines are taken from the “Liber +aureolus Theophrasti de nuptiis,” (“Theophrastus’s Golden +Book of Marriage”) quoted by Hieronymus, “Contra +Jovinianum,” (“Against Jovinian”) and thence again by John of +Salisbury. +</p> + +<p> +4. Mebles: movables, furniture, &c.; French, “meubles.” +</p> + +<p> +5. “Wade’s boat” was called Guingelot; and in it, according to +the old romance, the owner underwent a long series of wild +adventures, and performed many strange exploits. The romance +is lost, and therefore the exact force of the phrase in the text is +uncertain; but Mr Wright seems to be warranted in supposing +that Wade’s adventures were cited as examples of craft and +cunning — that the hero, in fact, was a kind of Northern +Ulysses, It is possible that to the same source we may trace the +proverbial phrase, found in Chaucer’s “Remedy of Love,” to +“bear Wattis pack” signifying to be duped or beguiled. +</p> + +<p> +6. Stopen: advanced; past participle of “step.” Elsewhere +“y-stept in age” is used by Chaucer. +</p> + +<p> +7. They did not need to go in quest of a wife for him, as they +had promised. +</p> + +<p> +8. Thilke tree: that tree of original sin, of which the special sins +are the branches. +</p> + +<p> +9. Skinked: poured out; from Anglo-Saxon, “scencan.” +</p> + +<p> +10. Marcianus Capella, who wrote a kind of philosophical +romance, “De Nuptiis Mercurii et Philologiae” (Of the Marriage +of Mercury and Philology) . “Her” and “him,” two lines after, +like “he” applied to Theodomas, are prefixed to the proper +names for emphasis, according to the Anglo- Saxon usage. +</p> + +<p> +11. Familiar: domestic; belonging to the “familia,” or household. +</p> + +<p> +12. Hewe: domestic servant; from Anglo-Saxon, “hiwa.” +Tyrwhitt reads “false of holy hue;” but Mr Wright has properly +restored the reading adopted in the text. +</p> + +<p> +13. Boren man: born; owing to January faith and loyalty +because born in his household. +</p> + +<p> +14. Hippocras: spiced wine. Clarre: also a kind of spiced wine. +Vernage: a wine believed to have come from Crete, although its +name — Italian, “Vernaccia” — seems to be derived from +Verona. +</p> + +<p> +15. Dan Constantine: a medical author who wrote about 1080; +his works were printed at Basle in 1536. +</p> + +<p> +16. Full of jargon as a flecked pie: he chattered like a magpie +</p> + +<p> +17. Nearly all the manuscripts read “in two of Taure;” but +Tyrwhitt has shown that, setting out from the second degree of +Taurus, the moon, which in the four complete days that Maius +spent in her chamber could not have advanced more than fifty- +three degrees, would only have been at the twenty-fifth degree +of Gemini — whereas, by reading “ten,” she is brought to the +third degree of Cancer. +</p> + +<p> +18. Kid; or “kidde,” past participle of “kythe” or “kithe,” to +show or discover. +</p> + +<p> +19. Precious: precise, over-nice; French, “precieux,” affected. +</p> + +<p> +20. Proined: or “pruned;” carefully trimmed and dressed +himself. The word is used in falconry of a hawk when she picks +and trims her feathers. +</p> + +<p> +21. A dogge for the bow: a dog attending a hunter with the +bow. +</p> + +<p> +22 The Romance of the Rose: a very popular mediaeval +romance, the English version of which is partly by Chaucer. It +opens with a description of a beautiful garden. +</p> + +<p> +23. Priapus: Son of Bacchus and Venus: he was regarded as +the promoter of fertility in all agricultural life, vegetable and +animal; while not only gardens, but fields, flocks, bees — and +even fisheries — were supposed to be under his protection. +</p> + +<p> +24. Argus was employed by Juno to watch Io with his hundred +eyes but he was sent to sleep by the flute of Mercury, who then +cut off his head. +</p> + +<p> +25. “My beloved spake, and said unto me, Rise up, my love, my +fair one, and come away. For lo, the winter is past, the rain is +over and gone: The flowers appear on the earth, the time of the +singing of the birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard +in our land.” +— Song of Solomon, ii. 10-12. +</p> + +<p> +26. “That fair field,<br/> +Of Enna, where Proserpine, gath’ring flowers,<br/> +Herself a fairer flow’r, by gloomy Dis<br/> +Was gather’d.”<br/> +— Milton, Paradise Lost, iv. 268 +</p> + +<p> +27. “Behold, this have I found, saith the preacher, counting one +by one, to find out the account: +Which yet my soul seeketh, but I find not: one man amongst a +thousand have I found, but a woman among all those I have not +found. +Lo, this only have I found, that God hath made man upright.” +Ecclesiastes vii. 27-29. +</p> + +<p> +28. Jesus, the son of Sirach, to whom is ascribed one of the +books of the Apochrypha — that called the “Wisdom of Jesus +the Son of Sirach, or Ecclesiasticus;” in which, especially in the +ninth and twenty-fifth chapters, severe cautions are given +against women. +</p> + +<p> +29. Roman gestes: histories; such as those of Lucretia, Porcia, +&c. +</p> + +<p> +30. May means January to believe that she is pregnant, and that +she has a craving for unripe pears. +</p> + +<p> +31. At this point, and again some twenty lines below, several +verses of a very coarse character had been inserted in later +manuscripts; but they are evidently spurious, and are omitted in +the best editions. +</p> + +<p> +32. “Store” is the general reading here, but its meaning is not +obvious. “Stowre” is found in several manuscripts; it signifies +“struggle” or “resist;” and both for its own appropriateness, and +for the force which it gives the word “stronge,” the reading in +the text seems the better. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap15"></a>THE SQUIRE’S TALE.</h2> + +<h3>THE PROLOGUE.</h3> + +<p> +“HEY! Godde’s mercy!” said our Hoste tho,* *then<br/> +“Now such a wife I pray God keep me fro’.<br/> +Lo, suche sleightes and subtilities<br/> +In women be; for aye as busy as bees<br/> +Are they us silly men for to deceive,<br/> +And from the soothe* will they ever weive,** *truth **swerve, depart<br/> +As this Merchante’s tale it proveth well.<br/> +But natheless, as true as any steel,<br/> +I have a wife, though that she poore be;<br/> +But of her tongue a labbing* shrew is she; *chattering<br/> +And yet* she hath a heap of vices mo’. *moreover<br/> +Thereof *no force;* let all such thinges go. *no matter*<br/> +But wit* ye what? in counsel** be it said, *know **secret, confidence<br/> +Me rueth sore I am unto her tied;<br/> +For, an’* I shoulde reckon every vice *if<br/> +Which that she hath, y-wis* I were too nice;** *certainly **foolish<br/> +And cause why, it should reported be<br/> +And told her by some of this company<br/> +(By whom, it needeth not for to declare,<br/> +Since women connen utter such chaffare <1>),<br/> +And eke my wit sufficeth not thereto<br/> +To tellen all; wherefore my tale is do.* *done<br/> +Squier, come near, if it your wille be,<br/> +And say somewhat of love, for certes ye<br/> +*Conne thereon* as much as any man.” *know about it*<br/> +“Nay, Sir,” quoth he; “but such thing as I can,<br/> +With hearty will, — for I will not rebel<br/> +Against your lust,* — a tale will I tell. *pleasure<br/> +Have me excused if I speak amiss;<br/> +My will is good; and lo, my tale is this.” +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Prologue to the Squire’s Tale +</p> + +<p> +1. Women connen utter such chaffare: women are adepts at +giving circulation to such wares. The Host evidently means that +his wife would be sure to hear of his confessions from some +female member of the company. +</p> + +<h3>THE TALE.<1></h3> + +<p> +*Pars Prima.* *First part* +</p> + +<p> +At Sarra, in the land of Tartary,<br/> +There dwelt a king that warrayed* Russie, <2> *made war on<br/> +Through which there died many a doughty man;<br/> +This noble king was called Cambuscan,<3><br/> +Which in his time was of so great renown,<br/> +That there was nowhere in no regioun<br/> +So excellent a lord in alle thing:<br/> +Him lacked nought that longeth to a king,<br/> +As of the sect of which that he was born.<br/> +He kept his law to which he was y-sworn,<br/> +And thereto* he was hardy, wise, and rich, *moreover, besides<br/> +And piteous and just, always y-lich;* *alike, even-tempered<br/> +True of his word, benign and honourable;<br/> +*Of his corage as any centre stable;* *firm, immovable of spirit*<br/> +Young, fresh, and strong, in armes desirous<br/> +As any bachelor of all his house.<br/> +A fair person he was, and fortunate,<br/> +And kept alway so well his royal estate,<br/> +That there was nowhere such another man.<br/> +This noble king, this Tartar Cambuscan,<br/> +Hadde two sons by Elfeta his wife,<br/> +Of which the eldest highte Algarsife,<br/> +The other was y-called Camballo.<br/> +A daughter had this worthy king also,<br/> +That youngest was, and highte Canace:<br/> +But for to telle you all her beauty,<br/> +It lies not in my tongue, nor my conning;* *skill<br/> +I dare not undertake so high a thing:<br/> +Mine English eke is insufficient,<br/> +It muste be a rhetor* excellent, *orator<br/> +*That couth his colours longing for that art,* * see <4>*<br/> +If he should her describen any part;<br/> +I am none such, I must speak as I can. +</p> + +<p> +And so befell, that when this Cambuscan<br/> +Had twenty winters borne his diadem,<br/> +As he was wont from year to year, I deem,<br/> +He let *the feast of his nativity* *his birthday party*<br/> +*Do crye,* throughout Sarra his city, *be proclaimed*<br/> +The last Idus of March, after the year.<br/> +Phoebus the sun full jolly was and clear,<br/> +For he was nigh his exaltation<br/> +In Marte’s face, and in his mansion <5><br/> +In Aries, the choleric hot sign:<br/> +Full lusty* was the weather and benign; *pleasant<br/> +For which the fowls against the sunne sheen,* *bright<br/> +What for the season and the younge green,<br/> +Full loude sange their affections:<br/> +Them seemed to have got protections<br/> +Against the sword of winter keen and cold.<br/> +This Cambuscan, of which I have you told,<br/> +In royal vesture, sat upon his dais,<br/> +With diadem, full high in his palace;<br/> +And held his feast so solemn and so rich,<br/> +That in this worlde was there none it lich.* *like<br/> +Of which if I should tell all the array,<br/> +Then would it occupy a summer’s day;<br/> +And eke it needeth not for to devise* *describe<br/> +At every course the order of service.<br/> +I will not tellen of their strange sewes,* *dishes <6><br/> +Nor of their swannes, nor their heronsews.* *young herons <7><br/> +Eke in that land, as telle knightes old,<br/> +There is some meat that is full dainty hold,<br/> +That in this land men *reck of* it full small: *care for*<br/> +There is no man that may reporten all.<br/> +I will not tarry you, for it is prime,<br/> +And for it is no fruit, but loss of time;<br/> +Unto my purpose* I will have recourse. *story <8><br/> +And so befell that, after the third course,<br/> +While that this king sat thus in his nobley,* *noble array<br/> +Hearing his ministreles their thinges play<br/> +Before him at his board deliciously,<br/> +In at the halle door all suddenly<br/> +There came a knight upon a steed of brass,<br/> +And in his hand a broad mirror of glass;<br/> +Upon his thumb he had of gold a ring,<br/> +And by his side a naked sword hanging:<br/> +And up he rode unto the highe board.<br/> +In all the hall was there not spoke a word,<br/> +For marvel of this knight; him to behold<br/> +Full busily they waited,* young and old. *watched +</p> + +<p> +This strange knight, that came thus suddenly,<br/> +All armed, save his head, full richely,<br/> +Saluted king, and queen, and lordes all,<br/> +By order as they satten in the hall,<br/> +With so high reverence and observance,<br/> +As well in speech as in his countenance,<br/> +That Gawain <9> with his olde courtesy,<br/> +Though he were come again out of Faerie,<br/> +Him *coulde not amende with a word.* *could not better him<br/> +And after this, before the highe board, by one word*<br/> +He with a manly voice said his message,<br/> +After the form used in his language,<br/> +Withoute vice* of syllable or letter. *fault<br/> +And, for his tale shoulde seem the better,<br/> +Accordant to his worde’s was his cheer,* *demeanour<br/> +As teacheth art of speech them that it lear.* *learn<br/> +Albeit that I cannot sound his style,<br/> +Nor cannot climb over so high a stile,<br/> +Yet say I this, as to *commune intent,* *general sense or meaning*<br/> +*Thus much amounteth* all that ever he meant, *this is the sum of*<br/> +If it so be that I have it in mind.<br/> +He said; “The king of Araby and Ind,<br/> +My liege lord, on this solemne day<br/> +Saluteth you as he best can and may,<br/> +And sendeth you, in honour of your feast,<br/> +By me, that am all ready at your hest,* *command<br/> +This steed of brass, that easily and well<br/> +Can in the space of one day naturel<br/> +(This is to say, in four-and-twenty hours),<br/> +Whereso you list, in drought or else in show’rs,<br/> +Beare your body into every place<br/> +To which your hearte willeth for to pace,* *pass, go<br/> +Withoute wem* of you, through foul or fair. *hurt, injury<br/> +Or if you list to fly as high in air<br/> +As doth an eagle, when him list to soar,<br/> +This same steed shall bear you evermore<br/> +Withoute harm, till ye be where *you lest* *it pleases you*<br/> +(Though that ye sleepen on his back, or rest),<br/> +And turn again, with writhing* of a pin. *twisting<br/> +He that it wrought, he coude* many a gin;** *knew **contrivance <10><br/> +He waited* in any a constellation, *observed<br/> +Ere he had done this operation,<br/> +And knew full many a seal <11> and many a bond<br/> +This mirror eke, that I have in mine hond,<br/> +Hath such a might, that men may in it see<br/> +When there shall fall any adversity<br/> +Unto your realm, or to yourself also,<br/> +And openly who is your friend or foe.<br/> +And over all this, if any lady bright<br/> +Hath set her heart on any manner wight,<br/> +If he be false, she shall his treason see,<br/> +His newe love, and all his subtlety,<br/> +So openly that there shall nothing hide.<br/> +Wherefore, against this lusty summer-tide,<br/> +This mirror, and this ring that ye may see,<br/> +He hath sent to my lady Canace,<br/> +Your excellente daughter that is here.<br/> +The virtue of this ring, if ye will hear,<br/> +Is this, that if her list it for to wear<br/> +Upon her thumb, or in her purse it bear,<br/> +There is no fowl that flyeth under heaven,<br/> +That she shall not well understand his steven,* *speech, sound<br/> +And know his meaning openly and plain,<br/> +And answer him in his language again:<br/> +And every grass that groweth upon root<br/> +She shall eke know, to whom it will do boot,* *remedy<br/> +All be his woundes ne’er so deep and wide.<br/> +This naked sword, that hangeth by my side,<br/> +Such virtue hath, that what man that it smite,<br/> +Throughout his armour it will carve and bite,<br/> +Were it as thick as is a branched oak:<br/> +And what man is y-wounded with the stroke<br/> +Shall ne’er be whole, till that you list, of grace,<br/> +To stroke him with the flat in thilke* place *the same<br/> +Where he is hurt; this is as much to sayn,<br/> +Ye muste with the flatte sword again<br/> +Stroke him upon the wound, and it will close.<br/> +This is the very sooth, withoute glose;* *deceit<br/> +It faileth not, while it is in your hold.” +</p> + +<p> +And when this knight had thus his tale told,<br/> +He rode out of the hall, and down he light.<br/> +His steede, which that shone as sunne bright,<br/> +Stood in the court as still as any stone.<br/> +The knight is to his chamber led anon,<br/> +And is unarmed, and to meat y-set.* *seated<br/> +These presents be full richely y-fet,* — *fetched<br/> +This is to say, the sword and the mirrour, —<br/> +And borne anon into the highe tow’r,<br/> +With certain officers ordain’d therefor;<br/> +And unto Canace the ring is bore<br/> +Solemnely, where she sat at the table;<br/> +But sickerly, withouten any fable,<br/> +The horse of brass, that may not be remued.* *removed <12><br/> +It stood as it were to the ground y-glued;<br/> +There may no man out of the place it drive<br/> +For no engine of windlass or polive; * *pulley<br/> +And cause why, for they *can not the craft;* *know not the cunning<br/> +And therefore in the place they have it laft, of the mechanism*<br/> +Till that the knight hath taught them the mannere<br/> +To voide* him, as ye shall after hear. *remove +</p> + +<p> +Great was the press, that swarmed to and fro<br/> +To gauren* on this horse that stoode so: *gaze<br/> +For it so high was, and so broad and long,<br/> +So well proportioned for to be strong,<br/> +Right as it were a steed of Lombardy;<br/> +Therewith so horsely, and so quick of eye,<br/> +As it a gentle Poileis <13> courser were:<br/> +For certes, from his tail unto his ear<br/> +Nature nor art ne could him not amend<br/> +In no degree, as all the people wend.* *weened, thought<br/> +But evermore their moste wonder was<br/> +How that it coulde go, and was of brass;<br/> +It was of Faerie, as the people seem’d.<br/> +Diverse folk diversely they deem’d;<br/> +As many heads, as many wittes been.<br/> +They murmured, as doth a swarm of been,* *bees<br/> +And made skills* after their fantasies, *reasons<br/> +Rehearsing of the olde poetries,<br/> +And said that it was like the Pegasee,* *Pegasus<br/> +The horse that hadde winges for to flee;* *fly<br/> +Or else it was the Greeke’s horse Sinon,<14><br/> +That broughte Troye to destruction,<br/> +As men may in the olde gestes* read. *tales of adventures<br/> +Mine heart,” quoth one, “is evermore in dread;<br/> +I trow some men of armes be therein,<br/> +That shape* them this city for to win: *design, prepare<br/> +It were right good that all such thing were know.”<br/> +Another rowned* to his fellow low, *whispered<br/> +And said, “He lies; for it is rather like<br/> +An apparence made by some magic,<br/> +As jugglers playen at these feastes great.”<br/> +Of sundry doubts they jangle thus and treat.<br/> +As lewed* people deeme commonly *ignorant<br/> +Of thinges that be made more subtilly<br/> +Than they can in their lewdness comprehend;<br/> +They *deeme gladly to the badder end.* *are ready to think<br/> +And some of them wonder’d on the mirrour, the worst*<br/> +That borne was up into the master* tow’r, *chief <15><br/> +How men might in it suche thinges see.<br/> +Another answer’d and said, it might well be<br/> +Naturally by compositions<br/> +Of angles, and of sly reflections;<br/> +And saide that in Rome was such a one.<br/> +They speak of Alhazen and Vitellon,<16><br/> +And Aristotle, that wrote in their lives<br/> +Of quainte* mirrors, and of prospectives, *curious<br/> +As knowe they that have their bookes heard.<br/> +And other folk have wonder’d on the swerd,* *sword<br/> +That woulde pierce throughout every thing;<br/> +And fell in speech of Telephus the king,<br/> +And of Achilles for his quainte spear, <17><br/> +For he could with it bothe heal and dere,* *wound<br/> +Right in such wise as men may with the swerd<br/> +Of which right now ye have yourselves heard.<br/> +They spake of sundry hard’ning of metal,<br/> +And spake of medicines therewithal,<br/> +And how, and when, it shoulde harden’d be,<br/> +Which is unknowen algate* unto me. *however<br/> +Then spake they of Canacee’s ring,<br/> +And saiden all, that such a wondrous thing<br/> +Of craft of rings heard they never none,<br/> +Save that he, Moses, and King Solomon,<br/> +Hadden *a name of conning* in such art. *a reputation for<br/> +Thus said the people, and drew them apart. knowledge*<br/> +Put natheless some saide that it was<br/> +Wonder to maken of fern ashes glass,<br/> +And yet is glass nought like ashes of fern;<br/> +*But for* they have y-knowen it so ferne** *because **before <18><br/> +Therefore ceaseth their jangling and their wonder.<br/> +As sore wonder some on cause of thunder,<br/> +On ebb and flood, on gossamer and mist,<br/> +And on all things, till that the cause is wist.* *known<br/> +Thus jangle they, and deemen and devise,<br/> +Till that the king gan from his board arise. +</p> + +<p> +Phoebus had left the angle meridional,<br/> +And yet ascending was the beast royal,<br/> +The gentle Lion, with his Aldrian, <19><br/> +When that this Tartar king, this Cambuscan,<br/> +Rose from the board, there as he sat full high<br/> +Before him went the loude minstrelsy,<br/> +Till he came to his chamber of parements,<20><br/> +There as they sounded diverse instruments,<br/> +That it was like a heaven for to hear.<br/> +Now danced lusty Venus’ children dear:<br/> +For in the Fish* their lady sat full *Pisces<br/> +And looked on them with a friendly eye. <21><br/> +This noble king is set upon his throne;<br/> +This strange knight is fetched to him full sone,* *soon<br/> +And on the dance he goes with Canace.<br/> +Here is the revel and the jollity,<br/> +That is not able a dull man to devise:* *describe<br/> +He must have knowen love and his service,<br/> +And been a feastly* man, as fresh as May, *merry, gay<br/> +That shoulde you devise such array.<br/> +Who coulde telle you the form of dances<br/> +So uncouth,* and so freshe countenances** *unfamliar **gestures<br/> +Such subtle lookings and dissimulances,<br/> +For dread of jealous men’s apperceivings?<br/> +No man but Launcelot,<22> and he is dead.<br/> +Therefore I pass o’er all this lustihead* *pleasantness<br/> +I say no more, but in this jolliness<br/> +I leave them, till to supper men them dress.<br/> +The steward bids the spices for to hie* *haste<br/> +And eke the wine, in all this melody;<br/> +The ushers and the squiers be y-gone,<br/> +The spices and the wine is come anon;<br/> +They eat and drink, and when this hath an end,<br/> +Unto the temple, as reason was, they wend;<br/> +The service done, they suppen all by day<br/> +What needeth you rehearse their array?<br/> +Each man wot well, that at a kinge’s feast<br/> +Is plenty, to the most*, and to the least, *highest<br/> +And dainties more than be in my knowing. +</p> + +<p> +At after supper went this noble king<br/> +To see the horse of brass, with all a rout<br/> +Of lordes and of ladies him about.<br/> +Such wond’ring was there on this horse of brass,<br/> +That, since the great siege of Troye was,<br/> +There as men wonder’d on a horse also,<br/> +Ne’er was there such a wond’ring as was tho.* *there<br/> +But finally the king asked the knight<br/> +The virtue of this courser, and the might,<br/> +And prayed him to tell his governance.* *mode of managing him<br/> +The horse anon began to trip and dance,<br/> +When that the knight laid hand upon his rein,<br/> +And saide, “Sir, there is no more to sayn,<br/> +But when you list to riden anywhere,<br/> +Ye muste trill* a pin, stands in his ear, *turn <23><br/> +Which I shall telle you betwixt us two;<br/> +Ye muste name him to what place also,<br/> +Or to what country that you list to ride.<br/> +And when ye come where you list abide,<br/> +Bid him descend, and trill another pin<br/> +(For therein lies th’ effect of all the gin*), *contrivance <10><br/> +And he will down descend and do your will,<br/> +And in that place he will abide still;<br/> +Though all the world had the contrary swore,<br/> +He shall not thence be throwen nor be bore.<br/> +Or, if you list to bid him thennes gon,<br/> +Trill this pin, and he will vanish anon<br/> +Out of the sight of every manner wight,<br/> +And come again, be it by day or night,<br/> +When that you list to clepe* him again *call<br/> +In such a guise, as I shall to you sayn<br/> +Betwixte you and me, and that full soon.<br/> +Ride <24> when you list, there is no more to do’n.’<br/> +Informed when the king was of the knight,<br/> +And had conceived in his wit aright<br/> +The manner and the form of all this thing,<br/> +Full glad and blithe, this noble doughty king<br/> +Repaired to his revel as beforn.<br/> +The bridle is into the tower borne,<br/> +And kept among his jewels lefe* and dear; *cherished<br/> +The horse vanish’d, I n’ot* in what mannere, *know not<br/> +Out of their sight; ye get no more of me:<br/> +But thus I leave in lust and jollity<br/> +This Cambuscan his lordes feastying,* *entertaining <25><br/> +Until well nigh the day began to spring. +</p> + +<p> +*Pars Secunda.* *Second Part* +</p> + +<p> +The norice* of digestion, the sleep, *nurse<br/> +Gan on them wink, and bade them take keep,* *heed<br/> +That muche mirth and labour will have rest.<br/> +And with a gaping* mouth he all them kest,** *yawning **kissed<br/> +And said, that it was time to lie down,<br/> +For blood was in his dominatioun: <26><br/> +“Cherish the blood, nature’s friend,” quoth he.<br/> +They thanked him gaping, by two and three;<br/> +And every wight gan draw him to his rest;<br/> +As sleep them bade, they took it for the best.<br/> +Their dreames shall not now be told for me;<br/> +Full are their heades of fumosity,<27><br/> +That caused dreams *of which there is no charge:* *of no significance*<br/> +They slepte; till that, it was *prime large,* *late morning*<br/> +The moste part, but* it was Canace; *except<br/> +She was full measurable,* as women be: *moderate<br/> +For of her father had she ta’en her leave<br/> +To go to rest, soon after it was eve;<br/> +Her liste not appalled* for to be; *to look pale<br/> +Nor on the morrow *unfeastly for to see;* *to look sad, depressed*<br/> +And slept her firste sleep; and then awoke.<br/> +For such a joy she in her hearte took<br/> +Both of her quainte a ring and her mirrour,.<br/> +That twenty times she changed her colour;<br/> +And in her sleep, right for th’ impression<br/> +Of her mirror, she had a vision.<br/> +Wherefore, ere that the sunne gan up glide,<br/> +She call’d upon her mistress’* her beside, *governesses<br/> +And saide, that her liste for to rise. +</p> + +<p> +These olde women, that be gladly wise<br/> +As are her mistresses answer’d anon,<br/> +And said; “Madame, whither will ye gon<br/> +Thus early? for the folk be all in rest.”<br/> +“I will,” quoth she, “arise; for me lest<br/> +No longer for to sleep, and walk about.”<br/> +Her mistresses call’d women a great rout,<br/> +And up they rose, well a ten or twelve;<br/> +Up rose freshe Canace herselve,<br/> +As ruddy and bright as is the yonnge sun<br/> +That in the Ram is four degrees y-run;<br/> +No higher was he, when she ready was;<br/> +And forth she walked easily a pace,<br/> +Array’d after the lusty* season swoot,** *pleasant **sweet<br/> +Lightely for to play, and walk on foot,<br/> +Nought but with five or six of her meinie;<br/> +And in a trench* forth in the park went she. *sunken path<br/> +The vapour, which up from the earthe glode,* *glided<br/> +Made the sun to seem ruddy and broad:<br/> +But, natheless, it was so fair a sight<br/> +That it made all their heartes for to light,* *be lightened, glad<br/> +What for the season and the morrowning,<br/> +And for the fowles that she hearde sing.<br/> +For right anon she wiste* what they meant *knew<br/> +Right by their song, and knew all their intent.<br/> +The knotte,* why that every tale is told, *nucleus, chief matter<br/> +If it be tarried* till the list* be cold *delayed **inclination<br/> +Of them that have it hearken’d *after yore,* *for a long time*<br/> +The savour passeth ever longer more;<br/> +For fulsomness of the prolixity:<br/> +And by that same reason thinketh me.<br/> +I shoulde unto the knotte condescend,<br/> +And maken of her walking soon an end. +</p> + +<p> +Amid a tree fordry*, as white as chalk, *thoroughly dried up<br/> +There sat a falcon o’er her head full high,<br/> +That with a piteous voice so gan to cry;<br/> +That all the wood resounded of her cry,<br/> +And beat she had herself so piteously<br/> +With both her winges, till the redde blood<br/> +Ran endelong* the tree, there as she stood *from top to bottom<br/> +And ever-in-one* alway she cried and shright;** *incessantly **shrieked<br/> +And with her beak herselfe she so pight,* *wounded<br/> +That there is no tiger, nor cruel beast,<br/> +That dwelleth either in wood or in forest;<br/> +But would have wept, if that he weepe could,<br/> +For sorrow of her; she shriek’d alway so loud.<br/> +For there was never yet no man alive,<br/> +If that he could a falcon well descrive;* *describe<br/> +That heard of such another of fairness<br/> +As well of plumage, as of gentleness;<br/> +Of shape, of all that mighte reckon’d be.<br/> +A falcon peregrine seemed she,<br/> +Of fremde* land; and ever as she stood *foreign <28><br/> +She swooned now and now for lack of blood;<br/> +Till well-nigh is she fallen from the tree. +</p> + +<p> +This faire kinge’s daughter Canace,<br/> +That on her finger bare the quainte ring,<br/> +Through which she understood well every thing<br/> +That any fowl may in his leden* sayn, **language <29><br/> +And could him answer in his leden again;<br/> +Hath understoode what this falcon said,<br/> +And well-nigh for the ruth* almost she died;. *pity<br/> +And to the tree she went, full hastily,<br/> +And on this falcon looked piteously;<br/> +And held her lap abroad; for well she wist<br/> +The falcon muste falle from the twist* *twig, bough<br/> +When that she swooned next, for lack of blood.<br/> +A longe while to waite her she stood;<br/> +Till at the last she apake in this mannere<br/> +Unto the hawk, as ye shall after hear:<br/> +“What is the cause, if it be for to tell,<br/> +That ye be in this furial* pain of hell?” *raging, furious<br/> +Quoth Canace unto this hawk above;<br/> +“Is this for sorrow of of death; or loss of love?<br/> +For; as I trow,* these be the causes two; *believe<br/> +That cause most a gentle hearte woe:<br/> +Of other harm it needeth not to speak.<br/> +For ye yourself upon yourself awreak;* *inflict<br/> +Which proveth well, that either ire or dread* *fear<br/> +Must be occasion of your cruel deed,<br/> +Since that I see none other wight you chase:<br/> +For love of God, as *do yourselfe grace;* *have mercy on<br/> +Or what may be your help? for, west nor east, yourself*<br/> +I never saw ere now no bird nor beast<br/> +That fared with himself so piteously<br/> +Ye slay me with your sorrow verily;<br/> +I have of you so great compassioun.<br/> +For Godde’s love come from the tree adown<br/> +And, as I am a kinge’s daughter true,<br/> +If that I verily the causes knew<br/> +Of your disease,* if it lay in my might, *distress<br/> +I would amend it, ere that it were night,<br/> +So wisly help me the great God of kind.** *surely **nature<br/> +And herbes shall I right enoughe find,<br/> +To heale with your hurtes hastily.”<br/> +Then shriek’d this falcon yet more piteously<br/> +Than ever she did, and fell to ground anon,<br/> +And lay aswoon, as dead as lies a stone,<br/> +Till Canace had in her lap her take,<br/> +Unto that time she gan of swoon awake:<br/> +And, after that she out of swoon abraid,* *awoke<br/> +Right in her hawke’s leden thus she said: +</p> + +<p> +“That pity runneth soon in gentle heart<br/> +(Feeling his simil’tude in paines smart),<br/> +Is proved every day, as men may see,<br/> +As well *by work as by authority;* *by experience as by doctrine*<br/> +For gentle hearte kitheth* gentleness. *sheweth<br/> +I see well, that ye have on my distress<br/> +Compassion, my faire Canace,<br/> +Of very womanly benignity<br/> +That nature in your princples hath set.<br/> +But for no hope for to fare the bet,* *better<br/> +But for t’ obey unto your hearte free,<br/> +And for to make others aware by me,<br/> +As by the whelp chastis’d* is the lion, *instructed, corrected<br/> +Right for that cause and that conclusion,<br/> +While that I have a leisure and a space,<br/> +Mine harm I will confessen ere I pace.”* *depart<br/> +And ever while the one her sorrow told,<br/> +The other wept, *as she to water wo’ld,* *as if she would dissolve<br/> +Till that the falcon bade her to be still, into water*<br/> +And with a sigh right thus she said *her till:* *to her*<br/> +“Where I was bred (alas that ilke* day!) *same<br/> +And foster’d in a rock of marble gray<br/> +So tenderly, that nothing ailed me,<br/> +I wiste* not what was adversity, *knew<br/> +Till I could flee* full high under the sky. *fly<br/> +Then dwell’d a tercelet <30> me faste by,<br/> +That seem’d a well of alle gentleness;<br/> +*All were he* full of treason and falseness, *although he was*<br/> +It was so wrapped *under humble cheer,* *under an aspect<br/> +And under hue of truth, in such mannere, of humility*<br/> +Under pleasance, and under busy pain,<br/> +That no wight weened that he coulde feign,<br/> +So deep in grain he dyed his colours.<br/> +Right as a serpent hides him under flow’rs,<br/> +Till he may see his time for to bite,<br/> +Right so this god of love’s hypocrite<br/> +Did so his ceremonies and obeisances,<br/> +And kept in semblance all his observances,<br/> +That *sounden unto* gentleness of love. *are consonant to*<br/> +As on a tomb is all the fair above,<br/> +And under is the corpse, which that ye wet,<br/> +Such was this hypocrite, both cold and hot;<br/> +And in this wise he served his intent,<br/> +That, save the fiend, none wiste what he meant:<br/> +Till he so long had weeped and complain’d,<br/> +And many a year his service to me feign’d,<br/> +Till that mine heart, too piteous and too nice,* *foolish, simple<br/> +All innocent of his crowned malice,<br/> +*Forfeared of his death,* as thoughte me, *greatly afraid lest<br/> +Upon his oathes and his surety he should die*<br/> +Granted him love, on this conditioun,<br/> +That evermore mine honour and renown<br/> +Were saved, bothe *privy and apert;* *privately and in public*<br/> +This is to say, that, after his desert,<br/> +I gave him all my heart and all my thought<br/> +(God wot, and he, that *other wayes nought*), *in no other way*<br/> +And took his heart in change of mine for aye.<br/> +But sooth is said, gone since many a day,<br/> +A true wight and a thiefe *think not one.* *do not think alike*<br/> +And when he saw the thing so far y-gone,<br/> +That I had granted him fully my love,<br/> +In such a wise as I have said above,<br/> +And given him my true heart as free<br/> +As he swore that he gave his heart to me,<br/> +Anon this tiger, full of doubleness,<br/> +Fell on his knees with so great humbleness,<br/> +With so high reverence, as by his cheer,* *mien<br/> +So like a gentle lover in mannere,<br/> +So ravish’d, as it seemed, for the joy,<br/> +That never Jason, nor Paris of Troy, —<br/> +Jason? certes, nor ever other man,<br/> +Since Lamech <31> was, that alderfirst* began *first of all<br/> +To love two, as write folk beforn,<br/> +Nor ever since the firste man was born,<br/> +Coulde no man, by twenty thousand<br/> +Counterfeit the sophimes* of his art; *sophistries, beguilements<br/> +Where doubleness of feigning should approach,<br/> +Nor worthy were t’unbuckle his galoche,* *shoe <32><br/> +Nor could so thank a wight, as he did me.<br/> +His manner was a heaven for to see<br/> +To any woman, were she ne’er so wise;<br/> +So painted he and kempt,* *at point devise,* *combed, studied<br/> +As well his wordes as his countenance. *with perfect precision*<br/> +And I so lov’d him for his obeisance,<br/> +And for the truth I deemed in his heart,<br/> +That, if so were that any thing him smart,* *pained<br/> +All were it ne’er so lite,* and I it wist, *little<br/> +Methought I felt death at my hearte twist.<br/> +And shortly, so farforth this thing is went,* *gone<br/> +That my will was his wille’s instrument;<br/> +That is to say, my will obey’d his will<br/> +In alle thing, as far as reason fill,* *fell; allowed<br/> +Keeping the boundes of my worship ever;<br/> +And never had I thing *so lefe, or lever,* *so dear, or dearer*<br/> +As him, God wot, nor never shall no mo’. +</p> + +<p> +“This lasted longer than a year or two,<br/> +That I supposed of him naught but good.<br/> +But finally, thus at the last it stood,<br/> +That fortune woulde that he muste twin* *depart, separate<br/> +Out of that place which that I was in.<br/> +Whe’er* me was woe, it is no question; *whether<br/> +I cannot make of it description.<br/> +For one thing dare I telle boldely,<br/> +I know what is the pain of death thereby;<br/> +Such harm I felt, for he might not byleve.* *stay <33><br/> +So on a day of me he took his leave,<br/> +So sorrowful eke, that I ween’d verily,<br/> +That he had felt as muche harm as I,<br/> +When that I heard him speak, and saw his hue.<br/> +But natheless, I thought he was so true,<br/> +And eke that he repaire should again<br/> +Within a little while, sooth to sayn,<br/> +And reason would eke that he muste go<br/> +For his honour, as often happ’neth so,<br/> +That I made virtue of necessity,<br/> +And took it well, since that it muste be.<br/> +As I best might, I hid from him my sorrow,<br/> +And took him by the hand, Saint John to borrow,* *witness, pledge<br/> +And said him thus; ‘Lo, I am youres all;<br/> +Be such as I have been to you, and shall.’<br/> +What he answer’d, it needs not to rehearse;<br/> +Who can say bet* than he, who can do worse? *better<br/> +When he had all well said, then had he done.<br/> +Therefore behoveth him a full long spoon,<br/> +That shall eat with a fiend; thus heard I say.<br/> +So at the last he muste forth his way,<br/> +And forth he flew, till he came where him lest.<br/> +When it came him to purpose for to rest,<br/> +I trow that he had thilke text in mind,<br/> +That alle thing repairing to his kind<br/> +Gladdeth himself; <34> thus say men, as I guess;<br/> +*Men love of [proper] kind newfangleness,* *see note <35>*<br/> +As birdes do, that men in cages feed.<br/> +For though thou night and day take of them heed,<br/> +And strew their cage fair and soft as silk,<br/> +And give them sugar, honey, bread, and milk,<br/> +Yet, *right anon as that his door is up,* *immediately on his<br/> +He with his feet will spurne down his cup, door being opened*<br/> +And to the wood he will, and wormes eat;<br/> +So newefangle be they of their meat,<br/> +And love novelties, of proper kind;<br/> +No gentleness of bloode may them bind.<br/> +So far’d this tercelet, alas the day!<br/> +Though he were gentle born, and fresh, and gay,<br/> +And goodly for to see, and humble, and free,<br/> +He saw upon a time a kite flee,* *fly<br/> +And suddenly he loved this kite so,<br/> +That all his love is clean from me y-go:<br/> +And hath his trothe falsed in this wise.<br/> +Thus hath the kite my love in her service,<br/> +And I am lorn* withoute remedy.” *lost, undone +</p> + +<p> +And with that word this falcon gan to cry,<br/> +And swooned eft* in Canacee’s barme** *again **lap<br/> +Great was the sorrow, for that hawke’s harm,<br/> +That Canace and all her women made;<br/> +They wist not how they might the falcon glade.* *gladden<br/> +But Canace home bare her in her lap,<br/> +And softely in plasters gan her wrap,<br/> +There as she with her beak had hurt herselve.<br/> +Now cannot Canace but herbes delve<br/> +Out of the ground, and make salves new<br/> +Of herbes precious and fine of hue,<br/> +To heale with this hawk; from day to night<br/> +She did her business, and all her might.<br/> +And by her bedde’s head she made a mew,* *bird cage<br/> +And cover’d it with velouettes* blue,<36> *velvets<br/> +In sign of truth that is in woman seen;<br/> +And all without the mew is painted green,<br/> +In which were painted all these false fowls,<br/> +As be these tidifes,* tercelets, and owls; *titmice<br/> +And pies, on them for to cry and chide,<br/> +Right for despite were painted them beside. +</p> + +<p> +Thus leave I Canace her hawk keeping.<br/> +I will no more as now speak of her ring,<br/> +Till it come eft* to purpose for to sayn *again<br/> +How that this falcon got her love again<br/> +Repentant, as the story telleth us,<br/> +By mediation of Camballus,<br/> +The kinge’s son of which that I you told.<br/> +But henceforth I will my process hold<br/> +To speak of aventures, and of battailes,<br/> +That yet was never heard so great marvailles.<br/> +First I will telle you of Cambuscan,<br/> +That in his time many a city wan;<br/> +And after will I speak of Algarsife,<br/> +How he won Theodora to his wife,<br/> +For whom full oft in great peril he was,<br/> +*N’had he* been holpen by the horse of brass. *had he not*<br/> +And after will I speak of Camballo, <37><br/> +That fought in listes with the brethren two<br/> +For Canace, ere that he might her win;<br/> +And where I left I will again begin.<br/> + . . . . <38> +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Squire’s Tale +</p> + +<p> +1. The Squire’s Tale has not been found under any other form +among the literary remains of the Middle Ages; and it is +unknown from what original it was derived, if from any. The +Tale is unfinished, not because the conclusion has been lost, but +because the author left it so. +</p> + +<p> +2. The Russians and Tartars waged constant hostilities between +the thirteenth and sixteenth centuries. +</p> + +<p> +3. In the best manuscripts the name is “Cambynskan,” and thus, +no doubt, it should strictly be read. But it is a most pardonable +offence against literal accuracy to use the word which Milton +has made classical, in “Il Penseroso,” speaking of +</p> + +<p> + “him that left half-told<br/> +The story of Cambuscan bold,<br/> +Of Camball, and of Algarsife,<br/> +And who had Canace to wife,<br/> +That owned the virtuous Ring and Glass,<br/> +And of the wondrous Horse of Brass,<br/> +On which the Tartar King did ride” +</p> + +<p> +Surely the admiration of Milton might well seem to the spirit of +Chaucer to condone a much greater transgression on his domain +than this verbal change — which to both eye and ear is an +unquestionable improvement on the uncouth original. +</p> + +<p> +4. Couth his colours longing for that art: well skilled in using +the colours — the word-painting — belonging to his art. +</p> + +<p> +5. Aries was the mansion of Mars — to whom “his” applies. +Leo was the mansion of the Sun. +</p> + +<p> +6. Sewes: Dishes, or soups. The precise force of the word is +uncertain; but it may be connected with “seethe,” to boil, and it +seems to describe a dish in which the flesh was served up amid a +kind of broth or gravy. The “sewer,” taster or assayer of the +viands served at great tables, probably derived his name from +the verb to “say” or “assay;” though Tyrwhitt would connect +the two words, by taking both from the French, “asseoir,” to +place — making the arrangement of the table the leading duty of +the “sewer,” rather than the testing of the food. +</p> + +<p> +7. Heronsews: young herons; French, “heronneaux.” +</p> + +<p> +8. Purpose: story, discourse; French, “propos.” +</p> + +<p> +9. Gawain was celebrated in mediaeval romance as the most +courteous among King Arthur’s knights. +</p> + +<p> +10. Gin: contrivance; trick; snare. Compare Italian, “inganno,” +deception; and our own “engine.” +</p> + +<p> +11. Mr Wright remarks that “the making and arrangement of +seals was one of the important operations of mediaeval magic.” +</p> + +<p> +12. Remued: removed; French, “remuer,” to stir. +</p> + +<p> +13. Polies: Apulian. The horses of Apulia — in old French +“Poille,” in Italian “Puglia” — were held in high value. +</p> + +<p> +14. The Greeke’s horse Sinon: the wooden horse of the Greek +Sinon, introduced into Troy by the stratagem of its maker. +</p> + +<p> +15. Master tower: chief tower; as, in the Knight’s Tale, the +principal street is called the “master street.” See note 86 to the +Knight’s Tale. +</p> + +<p> +16. Alhazen and Vitellon: two writers on optics — the first +supposed to have lived about 1100, the other about 1270. +Tyrwhitt says that their works were printed at Basle in 1572, +under the title “Alhazeni et Vitellonis Opticae.” +</p> + +<p> +17. Telephus, a son of Hercules, reigned over Mysia when the +Greeks came to besiege Troy, and he sought to prevent their +landing. But, by the art of Dionysus, he was made to stumble +over a vine, and Achilles wounded him with his spear. The +oracle informed Telephus that the hurt could be healed only by +him, or by the weapon, that inflicted it; and the king, seeking +the Grecian camp, was healed by Achilles with the rust of the +charmed spear. +</p> + +<p> +18. Ferne: before; a corruption of “forne,” from Anglo-Saxon, +“foran.” +</p> + +<p> +19. Aldrian: or Aldebaran; a star in the neck of the constellation +Leo. +</p> + +<p> +20. Chamber of parements: Presence-chamber, or chamber of +state, full of splendid furniture and ornaments. The same +expression is used in French and Italian. +</p> + +<p> +21. In Pisces, Venus was said to be at her exaltation or greatest +power. A planet, according to the old astrologers, was in +“exaltation” when in the sign of the Zodiac in which it exerted +its strongest influence; the opposite sign, in which it was +weakest, was called its “dejection.” +</p> + +<p> +22. Launcelot: Arthur’s famous knight, so accomplished and +courtly, that he was held the very pink of chivalry. +</p> + +<p> +23. Trill: turn; akin to “thirl”, “drill.” +</p> + +<p> +24. Ride: another reading is “bide,” alight or remain. +</p> + +<p> +25. Feastying: entertaining; French, “festoyer,” to feast. +</p> + +<p> +26. The old physicians held that blood dominated in the human +body late at night and in the early morning. Galen says that the +domination lasts for seven hours. +</p> + +<p> +27. Fumosity: fumes of wine rising from the stomach to the +head. +</p> + +<p> +28. Fremde: foreign, strange; German, “fremd” in the northern +dialects, “frem,” or “fremmed,” is used in the same sense. +</p> + +<p> +29. Leden: Language, dialect; from Anglo-Saxon, “leden” or +“laeden,” a corruption from “Latin.” +</p> + +<p> +30. Tercelet: the “tassel,” or male of any species of hawk; so +called, according to Cotgrave, because he is one third (“tiers”) +smaller than the female. +</p> + +<p> +31. “And Lamech took unto him two wives: the name of the +one Adah, and the name of the other Zillah” (Gen. iv. 19). +</p> + +<p> +32. Galoche: shoe; it seems to have been used in France, of a +“sabot,” or wooden shoe. The reader cannot fail to recall the +same illustration in John i. 27, where the Baptist says of Christ: +“He it is, who coming after me is preferred before me; whose +shoe’s latchet I am not worthy to unloose.” +</p> + +<p> +33. Byleve; stay; another form is “bleve;” from Anglo-Saxon, +“belitan,” to remain. Compare German, “bleiben.” +</p> + +<p> +34. This sentiment, as well as the illustration of the bird which +follows, is taken from the third book of Boethius, “De +Consolatione Philosophiae,” metrum 2. It has thus been +rendered in Chaucer’s translation: “All things seek aye to their +proper course, and all things rejoice on their returning again to +their nature.” +</p> + +<p> +35. Men love of proper kind newfangleness: Men, by their own +— their very — nature, are fond of novelty, and prone to +inconstancy. +</p> + +<p> +36. Blue was the colour of truth, as green was that of +inconstancy. In John Stowe’s additions to Chaucer’s works, +printed in 1561, there is “A balade whiche Chaucer made +against women inconstaunt,” of which the refrain is, “In stead of +blue, thus may ye wear all green.” +</p> + +<p> +37. Unless we suppose this to be a namesake of the Camballo +who was Canace’s brother — which is not at all probable — we +must agree with Tyrwhitt that there is a mistake here; which no +doubt Chaucer would have rectified, if the tale had not been +“left half-told,” One manuscript reads “Caballo;” and though not +much authority need be given to a difference that may be due to +mere omission of the mark of contraction over the “a,” there is +enough in the text to show that another person than the king’s +younger son is intended. The Squire promises to tell the +adventures that befell each member of Cambuscan’s family; and +in thorough consistency with this plan, and with the canons of +chivalric story, would be “the marriage of Canace to some +knight who was first obliged to fight for her with her two +brethren; a method of courtship,” adds Tyrwhitt, “very +consonant to the spirit of ancient chivalry.” +</p> + +<p> +38. (Trancriber’s note) In some manuscripts the following two +lines, being the beginning of the third part, are found: - +</p> + +<p> +Apollo whirleth up his chair so high,<br/> +Till that Mercurius’ house, the sly… +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap16"></a>THE FRANKLIN’S TALE.</h2> + +<h3>THE PROLOGUE. <1></h3> + +<p> +“IN faith, Squier, thou hast thee well acquit,<br/> +And gentilly; I praise well thy wit,”<br/> +Quoth the Franklin; “considering thy youthe<br/> +So feelingly thou speak’st, Sir, I aloue* thee, *allow, approve<br/> +*As to my doom,* there is none that is here *so far as my judgment<br/> +Of eloquence that shall be thy peer, goes*<br/> +If that thou live; God give thee goode chance,<br/> +And in virtue send thee continuance,<br/> +For of thy speaking I have great dainty.* *value, esteem<br/> +I have a son, and, by the Trinity;<br/> +*It were me lever* than twenty pound worth land, *I would rather*<br/> +Though it right now were fallen in my hand,<br/> +He were a man of such discretion<br/> +As that ye be: fy on possession,<br/> +*But if* a man be virtuous withal. *unless<br/> +I have my sone snibbed* and yet shall, *rebuked; “snubbed.”<br/> +For he to virtue *listeth not t’intend,* *does not wish to<br/> +But for to play at dice, and to dispend, apply himself*<br/> +And lose all that he hath, is his usage;<br/> +And he had lever talke with a page,<br/> +Than to commune with any gentle wight,<br/> +There he might learen gentilless aright.” +</p> + +<p> +Straw for your gentillesse!” quoth our Host.<br/> +“What? Frankelin, pardie, Sir, well thou wost* *knowest<br/> +That each of you must tellen at the least<br/> +A tale or two, or breake his behest.”* *promise<br/> +“That know I well, Sir,” quoth the Frankelin;<br/> +“I pray you have me not in disdain,<br/> +Though I to this man speak a word or two.”<br/> +“Tell on thy tale, withoute wordes mo’.”<br/> +“Gladly, Sir Host,” quoth he, “I will obey<br/> +Unto your will; now hearken what I say;<br/> +I will you not contrary* in no wise, *disobey<br/> +As far as that my wittes may suffice.<br/> +I pray to God that it may please you,<br/> +Then wot I well that it is good enow. +</p> + +<p> +“These olde gentle Bretons, in their days,<br/> +Of divers aventures made lays,<2><br/> +Rhymeden in their firste Breton tongue;<br/> +Which layes with their instruments they sung,<br/> +Or elles reade them for their pleasance;<br/> +And one of them have I in remembrance,<br/> +Which I shall say with good will as I can.<br/> +But, Sirs, because I am a borel* man, *rude, unlearned<br/> +At my beginning first I you beseech<br/> +Have me excused of my rude speech.<br/> +I learned never rhetoric, certain;<br/> +Thing that I speak, it must be bare and plain.<br/> +I slept never on the mount of Parnasso,<br/> +Nor learned Marcus Tullius Cicero.<br/> +Coloures know I none, withoute dread,* *doubt<br/> +But such colours as growen in the mead,<br/> +Or elles such as men dye with or paint;<br/> +Colours of rhetoric be to me quaint;* *strange<br/> +My spirit feeleth not of such mattere.<br/> +But, if you list, my tale shall ye hear.” +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Prologue to the Franklin’s Tale +</p> + +<p> +1. In the older editions, the verses here given as the prologue +were prefixed to the Merchant’s Tale, and put into his mouth. +Tyrwhitt was abundantly justified, by the internal evidence +afforded by the lines themselves, in transferring them to their +present place. +</p> + +<p> +2. The “Breton Lays” were an important and curious element in +the literature of the Middle Ages; they were originally +composed in the Armorican language, and the chief collection +of them extant was translated into French verse by a poetess +calling herself “Marie,” about the middle of the thirteenth +century. But though this collection was the most famous, and +had doubtless been read by Chaucer, there were other British or +Breton lays, and from one of those the Franklin’s Tale is taken. +Boccaccio has dealt with the same story in the “Decameron” +and the “Philocopo,” altering the circumstances to suit the +removal of its scene to a southern clime. +</p> + +<h3>THE TALE.</h3> + +<p> +In Armoric’, that called is Bretagne,<br/> +There was a knight, that lov’d and *did his pain* *devoted himself,<br/> +To serve a lady in his beste wise; strove*<br/> +And many a labour, many a great emprise,* *enterprise<br/> +He for his lady wrought, ere she were won:<br/> +For she was one the fairest under sun,<br/> +And eke thereto come of so high kindred,<br/> +That *well unnethes durst this knight for dread,* *see note <1>*<br/> +Tell her his woe, his pain, and his distress<br/> +But, at the last, she for his worthiness,<br/> +And namely* for his meek obeisance, *especially<br/> +Hath such a pity caught of his penance,* *suffering, distress<br/> +That privily she fell of his accord<br/> +To take him for her husband and her lord<br/> +(Of such lordship as men have o’er their wives);<br/> +And, for to lead the more in bliss their lives,<br/> +Of his free will he swore her as a knight,<br/> +That never in all his life he day nor night<br/> +Should take upon himself no mastery<br/> +Against her will, nor kithe* her jealousy, *show<br/> +But her obey, and follow her will in all,<br/> +As any lover to his lady shall;<br/> +Save that the name of sovereignety<br/> +That would he have, for shame of his degree.<br/> +She thanked him, and with full great humbless<br/> +She saide; “Sir, since of your gentleness<br/> +Ye proffer me to have so large a reign,<br/> +*Ne woulde God never betwixt us twain,<br/> +As in my guilt, were either war or strife:* *see note <2>*<br/> +Sir, I will be your humble true wife,<br/> +Have here my troth, till that my hearte brest.”* *burst<br/> +Thus be they both in quiet and in rest. +</p> + +<p> +For one thing, Sires, safely dare I say,<br/> +That friends ever each other must obey,<br/> +If they will longe hold in company.<br/> +Love will not be constrain’d by mastery.<br/> +When mast’ry comes, the god of love anon<br/> +Beateth <3> his wings, and, farewell, he is gone.<br/> +Love is a thing as any spirit free.<br/> +Women *of kind* desire liberty, *by nature*<br/> +And not to be constrained as a thrall,* *slave<br/> +And so do men, if soothly I say shall.<br/> +Look who that is most patient in love,<br/> +He *is at his advantage all above.* *enjoys the highest<br/> +Patience is a high virtue certain, advantages of all*<br/> +For it vanquisheth, as these clerkes sayn,<br/> +Thinges that rigour never should attain.<br/> +For every word men may not chide or plain.<br/> +Learne to suffer, or, so may I go,* *prosper<br/> +Ye shall it learn whether ye will or no.<br/> +For in this world certain no wight there is,<br/> +That he not doth or saith sometimes amiss.<br/> +Ire, or sickness, or constellation,* *the influence of<br/> +Wine, woe, or changing of complexion, the planets*<br/> +Causeth full oft to do amiss or speaken:<br/> +On every wrong a man may not be wreaken.* *revenged<br/> +After* the time must be temperance *according to<br/> +To every wight that *can of* governance. *is capable of*<br/> +And therefore hath this worthy wise knight<br/> +(To live in ease) sufferance her behight;* *promised<br/> +And she to him full wisly* gan to swear *surely<br/> +That never should there be default in her.<br/> +Here may men see a humble wife accord;<br/> +Thus hath she ta’en her servant and her lord,<br/> +Servant in love, and lord in marriage.<br/> +Then was he both in lordship and servage?<br/> +Servage? nay, but in lordship all above,<br/> +Since he had both his lady and his love:<br/> +His lady certes, and his wife also,<br/> +The which that law of love accordeth to.<br/> +And when he was in this prosperrity,<br/> +Home with his wife he went to his country,<br/> +Not far from Penmark,<4> where his dwelling was,<br/> +And there he liv’d in bliss and in solace.* *delight<br/> +Who coulde tell, but* he had wedded be, *unless<br/> +The joy, the ease, and the prosperity,<br/> +That is betwixt a husband and his wife?<br/> +A year and more lasted this blissful life,<br/> +Till that this knight, of whom I spake thus,<br/> +That of Cairrud <5> was call’d Arviragus,<br/> +Shope* him to go and dwell a year or twain *prepared, arranged<br/> +In Engleland, that call’d was eke Britain,<br/> +To seek in armes worship and honour<br/> +(For all his lust* he set in such labour); *pleasure<br/> +And dwelled there two years; the book saith thus. +</p> + +<p> +Now will I stint* of this Arviragus, *cease speaking<br/> +And speak I will of Dorigen his wife,<br/> +That lov’d her husband as her hearte’s life.<br/> +For his absence weepeth she and siketh,* *sigheth<br/> +As do these noble wives when them liketh;<br/> +She mourneth, waketh, waileth, fasteth, plaineth;<br/> +Desire of his presence her so distraineth,<br/> +That all this wide world she set at nought.<br/> +Her friendes, which that knew her heavy thought,<br/> +Comforte her in all that ever they may;<br/> +They preache her, they tell her night and day,<br/> +That causeless she slays herself, alas!<br/> +And every comfort possible in this case<br/> +They do to her, with all their business,* *assiduity<br/> +And all to make her leave her heaviness.<br/> +By process, as ye knowen every one,<br/> +Men may so longe graven in a stone,<br/> +Till some figure therein imprinted be:<br/> +So long have they comforted her, till she<br/> +Received hath, by hope and by reason,<br/> +Th’ imprinting of their consolation,<br/> +Through which her greate sorrow gan assuage;<br/> +She may not always duren in such rage.<br/> +And eke Arviragus, in all this care,<br/> +Hath sent his letters home of his welfare,<br/> +And that he will come hastily again,<br/> +Or elles had this sorrow her hearty-slain.<br/> +Her friendes saw her sorrow gin to slake,* *slacken, diminish<br/> +And prayed her on knees for Godde’s sake<br/> +To come and roamen in their company,<br/> +Away to drive her darke fantasy;<br/> +And finally she granted that request,<br/> +For well she saw that it was for the best. +</p> + +<p> +Now stood her castle faste by the sea,<br/> +And often with her friendes walked she,<br/> +Her to disport upon the bank on high,<br/> +There as many a ship and barge sigh,* *saw<br/> +Sailing their courses, where them list to go.<br/> +But then was that a parcel* of her woe, *part<br/> +For to herself full oft, “Alas!” said she,<br/> +Is there no ship, of so many as I see,<br/> +Will bringe home my lord? then were my heart<br/> +All warish’d* of this bitter paine’s smart.” *cured <6><br/> +Another time would she sit and think,<br/> +And cast her eyen downward from the brink;<br/> +But when she saw the grisly rockes blake,* *black<br/> +For very fear so would her hearte quake,<br/> +That on her feet she might her not sustene* *sustain<br/> +Then would she sit adown upon the green,<br/> +And piteously *into the sea behold,* *look out on the sea*<br/> +And say right thus, with *careful sikes* cold: *painful sighs*<br/> +“Eternal God! that through thy purveyance<br/> +Leadest this world by certain governance,<br/> +*In idle,* as men say, ye nothing make; *idly, in vain*<br/> +But, Lord, these grisly fiendly rockes blake,<br/> +That seem rather a foul confusion<br/> +Of work, than any fair creation<br/> +Of such a perfect wise God and stable,<br/> +Why have ye wrought this work unreasonable?<br/> +For by this work, north, south, or west, or east,<br/> +There is not foster’d man, nor bird, nor beast:<br/> +It doth no good, to my wit, but *annoyeth.* *works mischief* <7><br/> +See ye not, Lord, how mankind it destroyeth?<br/> +A hundred thousand bodies of mankind<br/> +Have rockes slain, *all be they not in mind;* *though they are<br/> +Which mankind is so fair part of thy work, forgotten*<br/> +Thou madest it like to thine owen mark.* *image<br/> +Then seemed it ye had a great cherte* *love, affection<br/> +Toward mankind; but how then may it be<br/> +That ye such meanes make it to destroy?<br/> +Which meanes do no good, but ever annoy.<br/> +I wot well, clerkes will say as them lest,* *please<br/> +By arguments, that all is for the best,<br/> +Although I can the causes not y-know;<br/> +But thilke* God that made the wind to blow, *that<br/> +As keep my lord, this is my conclusion:<br/> +To clerks leave I all disputation:<br/> +But would to God that all these rockes blake<br/> +Were sunken into helle for his sake<br/> +These rockes slay mine hearte for the fear.”<br/> +Thus would she say, with many a piteous tear. +</p> + +<p> +Her friendes saw that it was no disport<br/> +To roame by the sea, but discomfort,<br/> +And shope* them for to playe somewhere else. *arranged<br/> +They leade her by rivers and by wells,<br/> +And eke in other places delectables;<br/> +They dancen, and they play at chess and tables.* *backgammon<br/> +So on a day, right in the morning-tide,<br/> +Unto a garden that was there beside,<br/> +In which that they had made their ordinance* *provision, arrangement<br/> +Of victual, and of other purveyance,<br/> +They go and play them all the longe day:<br/> +And this was on the sixth morrow of May,<br/> +Which May had painted with his softe showers<br/> +This garden full of leaves and of flowers:<br/> +And craft of manne’s hand so curiously<br/> +Arrayed had this garden truely,<br/> +That never was there garden of such price,* *value, praise<br/> +*But if* it were the very Paradise. *unless*<br/> +Th’odour of flowers, and the freshe sight,<br/> +Would have maked any hearte light<br/> +That e’er was born, *but if* too great sickness *unless*<br/> +Or too great sorrow held it in distress;<br/> +So full it was of beauty and pleasance.<br/> +And after dinner they began to dance<br/> +And sing also, save Dorigen alone<br/> +Who made alway her complaint and her moan,<br/> +For she saw not him on the dance go<br/> +That was her husband, and her love also;<br/> +But natheless she must a time abide<br/> +And with good hope let her sorrow slide. +</p> + +<p> +Upon this dance, amonge other men,<br/> +Danced a squier before Dorigen<br/> +That fresher was, and jollier of array<br/> +*As to my doom,* than is the month of May. *in my judgment*<br/> +He sang and danced, passing any man,<br/> +That is or was since that the world began;<br/> +Therewith he was, if men should him descrive,<br/> +One of the *beste faring* men alive, *most accomplished*<br/> +Young, strong, and virtuous, and rich, and wise,<br/> +And well beloved, and holden in great price.* *esteem, value<br/> +And, shortly if the sooth I telle shall,<br/> +*Unweeting of* this Dorigen at all, *unknown to*<br/> +This lusty squier, servant to Venus,<br/> +Which that y-called was Aurelius,<br/> +Had lov’d her best of any creature<br/> +Two year and more, as was his aventure;* *fortune<br/> +But never durst he tell her his grievance;<br/> +Withoute cup he drank all his penance.<br/> +He was despaired, nothing durst he say,<br/> +Save in his songes somewhat would he wray* *betray<br/> +His woe, as in a general complaining;<br/> +He said, he lov’d, and was belov’d nothing.<br/> +Of suche matter made he many lays,<br/> +Songes, complaintes, roundels, virelays <8><br/> +How that he durste not his sorrow tell,<br/> +But languished, as doth a Fury in hell;<br/> +And die he must, he said, as did Echo<br/> +For Narcissus, that durst not tell her woe.<br/> +In other manner than ye hear me say,<br/> +He durste not to her his woe bewray,<br/> +Save that paraventure sometimes at dances,<br/> +Where younge folke keep their observances,<br/> +It may well be he looked on her face<br/> +In such a wise, as man that asketh grace,<br/> +But nothing wiste she of his intent.<br/> +Nath’less it happen’d, ere they thennes* went, *thence (from the<br/> +Because that he was her neighebour, garden)*<br/> +And was a man of worship and honour,<br/> +And she had knowen him *of time yore,* *for a long time*<br/> +They fell in speech, and forth aye more and more<br/> +Unto his purpose drew Aurelius;<br/> +And when he saw his time, he saide thus:<br/> +Madam,” quoth he, “by God that this world made,<br/> +So that I wist it might your hearte glade,* *gladden<br/> +I would, that day that your Arviragus<br/> +Went over sea, that I, Aurelius,<br/> +Had gone where I should never come again;<br/> +For well I wot my service is in vain.<br/> +My guerdon* is but bursting of mine heart. *reward<br/> +Madame, rue upon my paine’s smart,<br/> +For with a word ye may me slay or save.<br/> +Here at your feet God would that I were grave.<br/> +I have now no leisure more to say:<br/> +Have mercy, sweet, or you will *do me dey.”* *cause me to die* +</p> + +<p> +She gan to look upon Aurelius;<br/> +“Is this your will,” quoth she, “and say ye thus?<br/> +Ne’er erst,”* quoth she, “I wiste what ye meant: *before<br/> +But now, Aurelius, I know your intent.<br/> +By thilke* God that gave me soul and life, *that<br/> +Never shall I be an untrue wife<br/> +In word nor work, as far as I have wit;<br/> +I will be his to whom that I am knit;<br/> +Take this for final answer as of me.”<br/> +But after that *in play* thus saide she. *playfully, in jest*<br/> +“Aurelius,” quoth she, “by high God above,<br/> +Yet will I grante you to be your love<br/> +(Since I you see so piteously complain);<br/> +Looke, what day that endelong* Bretagne *from end to end of<br/> +Ye remove all the rockes, stone by stone,<br/> +That they not lette* ship nor boat to gon, *prevent<br/> +I say, when ye have made this coast so clean<br/> +Of rockes, that there is no stone seen,<br/> +Then will I love you best of any man;<br/> +Have here my troth, in all that ever I can;<br/> +For well I wot that it shall ne’er betide.<br/> +Let such folly out of your hearte glide.<br/> +What dainty* should a man have in his life *value, pleasure<br/> +For to go love another manne’s wife,<br/> +That hath her body when that ever him liketh?”<br/> +Aurelius full often sore siketh;* *sigheth<br/> +Is there none other grace in you?” quoth he,<br/> +“No, by that Lord,” quoth she, “that maked me.<br/> +Woe was Aurelius when that he this heard,<br/> +And with a sorrowful heart he thus answer’d.<br/> +“Madame, quoth he, “this were an impossible.<br/> +Then must I die of sudden death horrible.”<br/> +And with that word he turned him anon. +</p> + +<p> +Then came her other friends many a one,<br/> +And in the alleys roamed up and down,<br/> +And nothing wist of this conclusion,<br/> +But suddenly began to revel new,<br/> +Till that the brighte sun had lost his hue,<br/> +For th’ horizon had reft the sun his light<br/> +(This is as much to say as it was night);<br/> +And home they go in mirth and in solace;<br/> +Save only wretch’d Aurelius, alas<br/> +He to his house is gone with sorrowful heart.<br/> +He said, he may not from his death astart.* *escape<br/> +Him seemed, that he felt his hearte cold.<br/> +Up to the heav’n his handes gan he hold,<br/> +And on his knees bare he set him down.<br/> +And in his raving said his orisoun.* *prayer<br/> +For very woe out of his wit he braid;* *wandered<br/> +He wist not what he spake, but thus he said;<br/> +With piteous heart his plaint hath he begun<br/> +Unto the gods, and first unto the Sun.<br/> +He said; “Apollo God and governour<br/> +Of every plante, herbe, tree, and flower,<br/> +That giv’st, after thy declination,<br/> +To each of them his time and his season,<br/> +As thine herberow* changeth low and high; *dwelling, situation<br/> +Lord Phoebus: cast thy merciable eye<br/> +On wretched Aurelius, which that am but lorn.* *undone<br/> +Lo, lord, my lady hath my death y-sworn,<br/> +Withoute guilt, but* thy benignity *unless<br/> +Upon my deadly heart have some pity.<br/> +For well I wot, Lord Phoebus, if you lest,* *please<br/> +Ye may me helpe, save my lady, best.<br/> +Now vouchsafe, that I may you devise* *tell, explain<br/> +How that I may be holp,* and in what wise. *helped<br/> +Your blissful sister, Lucina the sheen, <9><br/> +That of the sea is chief goddess and queen, —<br/> +Though Neptunus have deity in the sea,<br/> +Yet emperess above him is she; —<br/> +Ye know well, lord, that, right as her desire<br/> +Is to be quick’d* and lighted of your fire, *quickened<br/> +For which she followeth you full busily,<br/> +Right so the sea desireth naturally<br/> +To follow her, as she that is goddess<br/> +Both in the sea and rivers more and less.<br/> +Wherefore, Lord Phoebus, this is my request,<br/> +Do this miracle, or *do mine hearte brest;* *cause my heart<br/> +That flow, next at this opposition, to burst*<br/> +Which in the sign shall be of the Lion,<br/> +As praye her so great a flood to bring,<br/> +That five fathom at least it overspring<br/> +The highest rock in Armoric Bretagne,<br/> +And let this flood endure yeares twain:<br/> +Then certes to my lady may I say,<br/> +“Holde your hest,” the rockes be away.<br/> +Lord Phoebus, this miracle do for me,<br/> +Pray her she go no faster course than ye;<br/> +I say this, pray your sister that she go<br/> +No faster course than ye these yeares two:<br/> +Then shall she be even at full alway,<br/> +And spring-flood laste bothe night and day.<br/> +And *but she* vouchesafe in such mannere *if she do not*<br/> +To grante me my sov’reign lady dear,<br/> +Pray her to sink every rock adown<br/> +Into her owen darke regioun<br/> +Under the ground, where Pluto dwelleth in<br/> +Or nevermore shall I my lady win.<br/> +Thy temple in Delphos will I barefoot seek.<br/> +Lord Phoebus! see the teares on my cheek<br/> +And on my pain have some compassioun.”<br/> +And with that word in sorrow he fell down,<br/> +And longe time he lay forth in a trance.<br/> +His brother, which that knew of his penance,* *distress<br/> +Up caught him, and to bed he hath him brought,<br/> +Despaired in this torment and this thought<br/> +Let I this woeful creature lie;<br/> +Choose he for me whe’er* he will live or die. *whether +</p> + +<p> +Arviragus with health and great honour<br/> +(As he that was of chivalry the flow’r)<br/> +Is come home, and other worthy men.<br/> +Oh, blissful art thou now, thou Dorigen!<br/> +Thou hast thy lusty husband in thine arms,<br/> +The freshe knight, the worthy man of arms,<br/> +That loveth thee as his own hearte’s life:<br/> +*Nothing list him to be imaginatif* *he cared not to fancy*<br/> +If any wight had spoke, while he was out,<br/> +To her of love; he had of that no doubt;* *fear, suspicion<br/> +He not intended* to no such mattere, *occupied himself with<br/> +But danced, jousted, and made merry cheer.<br/> +And thus in joy and bliss I let them dwell,<br/> +And of the sick Aurelius will I tell<br/> +In languor and in torment furious<br/> +Two year and more lay wretch’d Aurelius,<br/> +Ere any foot on earth he mighte gon;<br/> +Nor comfort in this time had he none,<br/> +Save of his brother, which that was a clerk.* *scholar<br/> +He knew of all this woe and all this work;<br/> +For to none other creature certain<br/> +Of this matter he durst no worde sayn;<br/> +Under his breast he bare it more secree<br/> +Than e’er did Pamphilus for Galatee.<10><br/> +His breast was whole withoute for to seen,<br/> +But in his heart aye was the arrow keen,<br/> +And well ye know that of a sursanure <11><br/> +In surgery is perilous the cure,<br/> +But* men might touch the arrow or come thereby. *except<br/> +His brother wept and wailed privily,<br/> +Till at the last him fell in remembrance,<br/> +That while he was at Orleans <12> in France, —<br/> +As younge clerkes, that be likerous* — *eager<br/> +To readen artes that be curious,<br/> +Seeken in every *halk and every hern* *nook and corner* <13><br/> +Particular sciences for to learn,—<br/> +He him remember’d, that upon a day<br/> +At Orleans in study a book he say* *saw<br/> +Of magic natural, which his fellaw,<br/> +That was that time a bachelor of law<br/> +All* were he there to learn another craft, *though<br/> +Had privily upon his desk y-laft;<br/> +Which book spake much of operations<br/> +Touching the eight and-twenty mansions<br/> +That longe to the Moon, and such folly<br/> +As in our dayes is not worth a fly;<br/> +For holy church’s faith, in our believe,* *belief, creed<br/> +Us suff’reth none illusion to grieve.<br/> +And when this book was in his remembrance<br/> +Anon for joy his heart began to dance,<br/> +And to himself he saide privily;<br/> +“My brother shall be warish’d* hastily *cured<br/> +For I am sicker* that there be sciences, *certain<br/> +By which men make divers apparences,<br/> +Such as these subtle tregetoures play. *tricksters <14><br/> +For oft at feaste’s have I well heard say,<br/> +That tregetours, within a halle large,<br/> +Have made come in a water and a barge,<br/> +And in the halle rowen up and down.<br/> +Sometimes hath seemed come a grim lioun,<br/> +And sometimes flowers spring as in a mead;<br/> +Sometimes a vine, and grapes white and red;<br/> +Sometimes a castle all of lime and stone;<br/> +And, when them liked, voided* it anon: *vanished<br/> +Thus seemed it to every manne’s sight.<br/> +Now then conclude I thus; if that I might<br/> +At Orleans some olde fellow find,<br/> +That hath these Moone’s mansions in mind,<br/> +Or other magic natural above.<br/> +He should well make my brother have his love.<br/> +For with an appearance a clerk* may make, *learned man<br/> +To manne’s sight, that all the rockes blake<br/> +Of Bretagne were voided* every one, *removed<br/> +And shippes by the brinke come and gon,<br/> +And in such form endure a day or two;<br/> +Then were my brother warish’d* of his woe, *cured<br/> +Then must she needes *holde her behest,* *keep her promise*<br/> +Or elles he shall shame her at the least.”<br/> +Why should I make a longer tale of this?<br/> +Unto his brother’s bed he comen is,<br/> +And such comfort he gave him, for to gon<br/> +To Orleans, that he upstart anon,<br/> +And on his way forth-ward then is he fare,* *gone<br/> +In hope for to be lissed* of his care. *eased of <15> +</p> + +<p> +When they were come almost to that city,<br/> +*But if it were* a two furlong or three, *all but*<br/> +A young clerk roaming by himself they met,<br/> +Which that in Latin *thriftily them gret.* *greeted them<br/> +And after that he said a wondrous thing; civilly*<br/> +I know,” quoth he, “the cause of your coming;”<br/> +Aud ere they farther any foote went,<br/> +He told them all that was in their intent.<br/> +The Breton clerk him asked of fellaws<br/> +The which he hadde known in olde daws,* *days<br/> +And he answer’d him that they deade were,<br/> +For which he wept full often many a tear.<br/> +Down off his horse Aurelius light anon,<br/> +And forth with this magician is be gone<br/> +Home to his house, and made him well at ease;<br/> +Them lacked no vitail* that might them please. *victuals, food<br/> +So well-array’d a house as there was one,<br/> +Aurelius in his life saw never none.<br/> +He shewed him, ere they went to suppere,<br/> +Forestes, parkes, full of wilde deer.<br/> +There saw he hartes with their hornes high,<br/> +The greatest that were ever seen with eye.<br/> +He saw of them an hundred slain with hounds,<br/> +And some with arrows bleed of bitter wounds.<br/> +He saw, when voided* were the wilde deer, *passed away<br/> +These falconers upon a fair rivere,<br/> +That with their hawkes have the heron slain.<br/> +Then saw he knightes jousting in a plain.<br/> +And after this he did him such pleasance,<br/> +That he him shew’d his lady on a dance,<br/> +In which himselfe danced, as him thought.<br/> +And when this master, that this magic wrought,<br/> +Saw it was time, he clapp’d his handes two,<br/> +And farewell, all the revel is y-go.* *gone, removed<br/> +And yet remov’d they never out of the house,<br/> +While they saw all the sightes marvellous;<br/> +But in his study, where his bookes be,<br/> +They satte still, and no wight but they three.<br/> +To him this master called his squier, +</p> + +<p> +And said him thus, “May we go to supper?<br/> +Almost an hour it is, I undertake,<br/> +Since I you bade our supper for to make,<br/> +When that these worthy men wente with me<br/> +Into my study, where my bookes be.”<br/> +“Sir,” quoth this squier, “when it liketh you.<br/> +It is all ready, though ye will right now.”<br/> +“Go we then sup,” quoth he, “as for the best;<br/> +These amorous folk some time must have rest.”<br/> +At after supper fell they in treaty<br/> +What summe should this master’s guerdon* be, *reward<br/> +To remove all the rockes of Bretagne,<br/> +And eke from Gironde <16> to the mouth of Seine.<br/> +He made it strange,* and swore, so God him save, *a matter of<br/> +Less than a thousand pound he would not have, difficulty*<br/> +*Nor gladly for that sum he would not gon.* *see note <17>*<br/> +Aurelius with blissful heart anon<br/> +Answered thus; “Fie on a thousand pound!<br/> +This wide world, which that men say is round,<br/> +I would it give, if I were lord of it.<br/> +This bargain is full-driv’n, for we be knit;* *agreed<br/> +Ye shall be payed truly by my troth.<br/> +But looke, for no negligence or sloth,<br/> +Ye tarry us here no longer than to-morrow.”<br/> +“Nay,” quoth the clerk, *“have here my faith to borrow.”* *I pledge my<br/> +To bed is gone Aurelius when him lest, faith on it*<br/> +And well-nigh all that night he had his rest,<br/> +What for his labour, and his hope of bliss,<br/> +His woeful heart *of penance had a liss.* *had a respite<br/> + from suffering*<br/> +Upon the morrow, when that it was day,<br/> +Unto Bretagne they took the righte way,<br/> +Aurelius and this magician beside,<br/> +And be descended where they would abide:<br/> +And this was, as the bookes me remember,<br/> +The colde frosty season of December.<br/> +Phoebus wax’d old, and hued like latoun,* *brass<br/> +That in his hote declinatioun<br/> +Shone as the burned gold, with streames* bright; *beams<br/> +But now in Capricorn adown he light,<br/> +Where as he shone full pale, I dare well sayn.<br/> +The bitter frostes, with the sleet and rain,<br/> +Destroyed have the green in every yard. *courtyard, garden<br/> +Janus sits by the fire with double beard,<br/> +And drinketh of his bugle horn the wine:<br/> +Before him stands the brawn of tusked swine<br/> +And “nowel”* crieth every lusty man *Noel <18><br/> +Aurelius, in all that ev’r he can,<br/> +Did to his master cheer and reverence,<br/> +And prayed him to do his diligence<br/> +To bringe him out of his paines smart,<br/> +Or with a sword that he would slit his heart.<br/> +This subtle clerk such ruth* had on this man, *pity<br/> +That night and day he sped him, that he can,<br/> +To wait a time of his conclusion;<br/> +This is to say, to make illusion,<br/> +By such an appearance of jugglery<br/> +(I know no termes of astrology),<br/> +That she and every wight should ween and say,<br/> +That of Bretagne the rockes were away,<br/> +Or else they were sunken under ground.<br/> +So at the last he hath a time found<br/> +To make his japes* and his wretchedness *tricks<br/> +Of such a *superstitious cursedness.* *detestable villainy*<br/> +His tables Toletanes <19> forth he brought,<br/> +Full well corrected, that there lacked nought,<br/> +Neither his collect, nor his expanse years,<br/> +Neither his rootes, nor his other gears,<br/> +As be his centres, and his arguments,<br/> +And his proportional convenients<br/> +For his equations in everything.<br/> +And by his eighte spheres in his working,<br/> +He knew full well how far Alnath <20> was shove<br/> +From the head of that fix’d Aries above,<br/> +That in the ninthe sphere consider’d is.<br/> +Full subtilly he calcul’d all this.<br/> +When he had found his firste mansion,<br/> +He knew the remnant by proportion;<br/> +And knew the rising of his moone well,<br/> +And in whose face, and term, and every deal;<br/> +And knew full well the moone’s mansion<br/> +Accordant to his operation;<br/> +And knew also his other observances,<br/> +For such illusions and such meschances,* *wicked devices<br/> +As heathen folk used in thilke days.<br/> +For which no longer made he delays;<br/> +But through his magic, for a day or tway, <21><br/> +It seemed all the rockes were away. +</p> + +<p> +Aurelius, which yet despaired is<br/> +Whe’er* he shall have his love, or fare amiss, *whether<br/> +Awaited night and day on this miracle:<br/> +And when he knew that there was none obstacle,<br/> +That voided* were these rockes every one, *removed<br/> +Down at his master’s feet he fell anon,<br/> +And said; “I, woeful wretch’d Aurelius,<br/> +Thank you, my Lord, and lady mine Venus,<br/> +That me have holpen from my cares cold.”<br/> +And to the temple his way forth hath he hold,<br/> +Where as he knew he should his lady see.<br/> +And when he saw his time, anon right he<br/> +With dreadful* heart and with full humble cheer** *fearful **mien<br/> +Saluteth hath his sovereign lady dear.<br/> +“My rightful Lady,” quoth this woeful man,<br/> +“Whom I most dread, and love as I best can,<br/> +And lothest were of all this world displease,<br/> +Were’t not that I for you have such disease,* *distress, affliction<br/> +That I must die here at your foot anon,<br/> +Nought would I tell how me is woebegone.<br/> +But certes either must I die or plain;* *bewail<br/> +Ye slay me guilteless for very pain.<br/> +But of my death though that ye have no ruth,<br/> +Advise you, ere that ye break your truth:<br/> +Repente you, for thilke God above,<br/> +Ere ye me slay because that I you love.<br/> +For, Madame, well ye wot what ye have hight;* *promised<br/> +Not that I challenge anything of right<br/> +Of you, my sovereign lady, but of grace:<br/> +But in a garden yond’, in such a place,<br/> +Ye wot right well what ye behighte* me, *promised<br/> +And in mine hand your trothe plighted ye,<br/> +To love me best; God wot ye saide so,<br/> +Albeit that I unworthy am thereto;<br/> +Madame, I speak it for th’ honour of you,<br/> +More than to save my hearte’s life right now;<br/> +I have done so as ye commanded me,<br/> +And if ye vouchesafe, ye may go see.<br/> +Do as you list, have your behest in mind,<br/> +For, quick or dead, right there ye shall me find;<br/> +In you hes all to *do me live or dey;* *cause me to<br/> +But well I wot the rockes be away.” live or die* +</p> + +<p> +He took his leave, and she astonish’d stood;<br/> +In all her face was not one drop of blood:<br/> +She never ween’d t’have come in such a trap.<br/> +“Alas!” quoth she, “that ever this should hap!<br/> +For ween’d I ne’er, by possibility,<br/> +That such a monster or marvail might be;<br/> +It is against the process of nature.”<br/> +And home she went a sorrowful creature;<br/> +For very fear unnethes* may she go. *scarcely<br/> +She weeped, wailed, all a day or two,<br/> +And swooned, that it ruthe was to see:<br/> +But why it was, to no wight tolde she,<br/> +For out of town was gone Arviragus.<br/> +But to herself she spake, and saide thus,<br/> +With face pale, and full sorrowful cheer,<br/> +In her complaint, as ye shall after hear.<br/> +“Alas!” quoth she, “on thee, Fortune, I plain,* *complain<br/> +That unware hast me wrapped in thy chain,<br/> +From which to scape, wot I no succour,<br/> +Save only death, or elles dishonour;<br/> +One of these two behoveth me to choose.<br/> +But natheless, yet had I lever* lose *sooner, rather<br/> +My life, than of my body have shame,<br/> +Or know myselfe false, or lose my name;<br/> +And with my death *I may be quit y-wis.* *I may certainly purchase<br/> +Hath there not many a noble wife, ere this, my exemption*<br/> +And many a maiden, slain herself, alas!<br/> +Rather than with her body do trespass?<br/> +Yes, certes; lo, these stories bear witness. <22><br/> +When thirty tyrants full of cursedness* *wickedness<br/> +Had slain Phidon in Athens at the feast,<br/> +They commanded his daughters to arrest,<br/> +And bringe them before them, in despite,<br/> +All naked, to fulfil their foul delight;<br/> +And in their father’s blood they made them dance<br/> +Upon the pavement, — God give them mischance.<br/> +For which these woeful maidens, full of dread,<br/> +Rather than they would lose their maidenhead,<br/> +They privily *be start* into a well, *suddenly leaped<br/> +And drowned themselves, as the bookes tell.<br/> +They of Messene let inquire and seek<br/> +Of Lacedaemon fifty maidens eke,<br/> +On which they woulde do their lechery:<br/> +But there was none of all that company<br/> +That was not slain, and with a glad intent<br/> +Chose rather for to die, than to assent<br/> +To be oppressed* of her maidenhead. *forcibly bereft<br/> +Why should I then to dien be in dread?<br/> +Lo, eke the tyrant Aristoclides,<br/> +That lov’d a maiden hight Stimphalides,<br/> +When that her father slain was on a night,<br/> +Unto Diana’s temple went she right,<br/> +And hent* the image in her handes two, *caught, clasped<br/> +From which image she woulde never go;<br/> +No wight her handes might off it arace,* *pluck away by force<br/> +Till she was slain right in the selfe* place. *same<br/> +Now since that maidens hadde such despite<br/> +To be defouled with man’s foul delight,<br/> +Well ought a wife rather herself to sle,* *slay<br/> +Than be defouled, as it thinketh me.<br/> +What shall I say of Hasdrubale’s wife,<br/> +That at Carthage bereft herself of life?<br/> +For, when she saw the Romans win the town,<br/> +She took her children all, and skipt adown<br/> +Into the fire, and rather chose to die,<br/> +Than any Roman did her villainy.<br/> +Hath not Lucretia slain herself, alas!<br/> +At Rome, when that she oppressed* was *ravished<br/> +Of Tarquin? for her thought it was a shame<br/> +To live, when she hadde lost her name.<br/> +The seven maidens of Milesie also<br/> +Have slain themselves for very dread and woe,<br/> +Rather than folk of Gaul them should oppress.<br/> +More than a thousand stories, as I guess,<br/> +Could I now tell as touching this mattere.<br/> +When Abradate was slain, his wife so dear <23><br/> +Herselfe slew, and let her blood to glide<br/> +In Abradate’s woundes, deep and wide,<br/> +And said, ‘My body at the leaste way<br/> +There shall no wight defoul, if that I may.’<br/> +Why should I more examples hereof sayn?<br/> +Since that so many have themselves slain,<br/> +Well rather than they would defouled be,<br/> +I will conclude that it is bet* for me *better<br/> +To slay myself, than be defouled thus.<br/> +I will be true unto Arviragus,<br/> +Or elles slay myself in some mannere,<br/> +As did Demotione’s daughter dear,<br/> +Because she woulde not defouled be.<br/> +O Sedasus, it is full great pity<br/> +To reade how thy daughters died, alas!<br/> +That slew themselves *for suche manner cas.* *in circumstances of<br/> +As great a pity was it, or well more, the same kind*<br/> +The Theban maiden, that for Nicanor<br/> +Herselfe slew, right for such manner woe.<br/> +Another Theban maiden did right so;<br/> +For one of Macedon had her oppress’d,<br/> +She with her death her maidenhead redress’d.* *vindicated<br/> +What shall I say of Niceratus’ wife,<br/> +That for such case bereft herself her life?<br/> +How true was eke to Alcibiades<br/> +His love, that for to dien rather chese,* *chose<br/> +Than for to suffer his body unburied be?<br/> +Lo, what a wife was Alceste?” quoth she.<br/> +“What saith Homer of good Penelope?<br/> +All Greece knoweth of her chastity.<br/> +Pardie, of Laedamia is written thus,<br/> +That when at Troy was slain Protesilaus, <24><br/> +No longer would she live after his day.<br/> +The same of noble Porcia tell I may;<br/> +Withoute Brutus coulde she not live,<br/> +To whom she did all whole her hearte give. <25><br/> +The perfect wifehood of Artemisie <26><br/> +Honoured is throughout all Barbarie.<br/> +O Teuta <27> queen, thy wifely chastity<br/> +To alle wives may a mirror be.” <28> +</p> + +<p> +Thus plained Dorigen a day or tway,<br/> +Purposing ever that she woulde dey;* *die<br/> +But natheless upon the thirde night<br/> +Home came Arviragus, the worthy knight,<br/> +And asked her why that she wept so sore.<br/> +And she gan weepen ever longer more.<br/> +“Alas,” quoth she, “that ever I was born!<br/> +Thus have I said,” quoth she; “thus have I sworn. “<br/> +And told him all, as ye have heard before:<br/> +It needeth not rehearse it you no more.<br/> +This husband with glad cheer,* in friendly wise, *demeanour<br/> +Answer’d and said, as I shall you devise.* *relate<br/> +“Is there aught elles, Dorigen, but this?”<br/> +“Nay, nay,” quoth she, “God help me so, *as wis* *assuredly*<br/> +This is too much, an* it were Godde’s will.” *if<br/> +“Yea, wife,” quoth he, “let sleepe what is still,<br/> +It may be well par’venture yet to-day.<br/> +Ye shall your trothe holde, by my fay.<br/> +For, God so wisly* have mercy on me, *certainly<br/> +*I had well lever sticked for to be,* *I had rather be slain*<br/> +For very love which I to you have,<br/> +But if ye should your trothe keep and save.<br/> +Truth is the highest thing that man may keep.”<br/> +But with that word he burst anon to weep,<br/> +And said; “I you forbid, on pain of death,<br/> +That never, while you lasteth life or breath,<br/> +To no wight tell ye this misaventure;<br/> +As I may best, I will my woe endure,<br/> +Nor make no countenance of heaviness,<br/> +That folk of you may deeme harm, or guess.”<br/> +And forth he call’d a squier and a maid.<br/> +“Go forth anon with Dorigen,” he said,<br/> +“And bringe her to such a place anon.”<br/> +They take their leave, and on their way they gon:<br/> +But they not wiste why she thither went;<br/> +He would to no wight telle his intent. +</p> + +<p> +This squier, which that hight Aurelius,<br/> +On Dorigen that was so amorous,<br/> +Of aventure happen’d her to meet<br/> +Amid the town, right in the quickest* street, *nearest<br/> +As she was bound* to go the way forthright *prepared, going <29><br/> +Toward the garden, there as she had hight.* *promised<br/> +And he was to the garden-ward also;<br/> +For well he spied when she woulde go<br/> +Out of her house, to any manner place;<br/> +But thus they met, of aventure or grace,<br/> +And he saluted her with glad intent,<br/> +And asked of her whitherward she went.<br/> +And she answered, half as she were mad,<br/> +“Unto the garden, as my husband bade,<br/> +My trothe for to hold, alas! alas!”<br/> +Aurelius gan to wonder on this case,<br/> +And in his heart had great compassion<br/> +Of her, and of her lamentation,<br/> +And of Arviragus, the worthy knight,<br/> +That bade her hold all that she hadde hight;<br/> +So loth him was his wife should break her truth* *troth, pledged word<br/> +And in his heart he caught of it great ruth,* *pity<br/> +Considering the best on every side,<br/> +*That from his lust yet were him lever abide,* *see note <30>*<br/> +Than do so high a churlish wretchedness* *wickedness<br/> +Against franchise,* and alle gentleness; *generosity<br/> +For which in fewe words he saide thus;<br/> +“Madame, say to your lord Arviragus,<br/> +That since I see the greate gentleness<br/> +Of him, and eke I see well your distress,<br/> +That him were lever* have shame (and that were ruth)** *rather **pity<br/> +Than ye to me should breake thus your truth,<br/> +I had well lever aye* to suffer woe, *forever<br/> +Than to depart* the love betwixt you two. *sunder, split up<br/> +I you release, Madame, into your hond,<br/> +Quit ev’ry surement* and ev’ry bond, *surety<br/> +That ye have made to me as herebeforn,<br/> +Since thilke time that ye were born.<br/> +Have here my truth, I shall you ne’er repreve* *reproach<br/> +*Of no behest;* and here I take my leave, *of no (breach of)<br/> +As of the truest and the beste wife promise*<br/> +That ever yet I knew in all my life.<br/> +But every wife beware of her behest;<br/> +On Dorigen remember at the least.<br/> +Thus can a squier do a gentle deed,<br/> +As well as can a knight, withoute drede.”* *doubt +</p> + +<p> +She thanked him upon her knees bare,<br/> +And home unto her husband is she fare,* *gone<br/> +And told him all, as ye have hearde said;<br/> +And, truste me, he was so *well apaid,* *satisfied*<br/> +That it were impossible me to write.<br/> +Why should I longer of this case indite?<br/> +Arviragus and Dorigen his wife<br/> +In sov’reign blisse ledde forth their life;<br/> +Ne’er after was there anger them between;<br/> +He cherish’d her as though she were a queen,<br/> +And she was to him true for evermore;<br/> +Of these two folk ye get of me no more. +</p> + +<p> +Aurelius, that his cost had *all forlorn,* *utterly lost*<br/> +Cursed the time that ever he was born.<br/> +“Alas!” quoth he, “alas that I behight* *promised<br/> +Of pured* gold a thousand pound of weight *refined<br/> +To this philosopher! how shall I do?<br/> +I see no more, but that I am fordo.* *ruined, undone<br/> +Mine heritage must I needes sell,<br/> +And be a beggar; here I will not dwell,<br/> +And shamen all my kindred in this place,<br/> +But* I of him may gette better grace. *unless<br/> +But natheless I will of him assay<br/> +At certain dayes year by year to pay,<br/> +And thank him of his greate courtesy.<br/> +My trothe will I keep, I will not he.”<br/> +With hearte sore he went unto his coffer,<br/> +And broughte gold unto this philosopher,<br/> +The value of five hundred pound, I guess,<br/> +And him beseeched, of his gentleness,<br/> +To grant him *dayes of* the remenant; *time to pay up*<br/> +And said; “Master, I dare well make avaunt,<br/> +I failed never of my truth as yet.<br/> +For sickerly my debte shall be quit<br/> +Towardes you how so that e’er I fare<br/> +To go a-begging in my kirtle bare:<br/> +But would ye vouchesafe, upon surety,<br/> +Two year, or three, for to respite me,<br/> +Then were I well, for elles must I sell<br/> +Mine heritage; there is no more to tell.” +</p> + +<p> +This philosopher soberly* answer’d, *gravely<br/> +And saide thus, when he these wordes heard;<br/> +“Have I not holden covenant to thee?”<br/> +“Yes, certes, well and truely,” quoth he.<br/> +“Hast thou not had thy lady as thee liked?”<br/> +“No, no,” quoth he, and sorrowfully siked.* *sighed<br/> +“What was the cause? tell me if thou can.”<br/> +Aurelius his tale anon began,<br/> +And told him all as ye have heard before,<br/> +It needeth not to you rehearse it more.<br/> +He said, “Arviragus of gentleness<br/> +Had lever* die in sorrow and distress, *rather<br/> +Than that his wife were of her trothe false.”<br/> +The sorrow of Dorigen he told him als’,* *also<br/> +How loth her was to be a wicked wife,<br/> +And that she lever had lost that day her life;<br/> +And that her troth she swore through innocence;<br/> +She ne’er erst* had heard speak of apparence** *before **see note <31><br/> +That made me have of her so great pity,<br/> +And right as freely as he sent her to me,<br/> +As freely sent I her to him again:<br/> +This is all and some, there is no more to sayn.” +</p> + +<p> +The philosopher answer’d; “Leve* brother, *dear<br/> +Evereach of you did gently to the other;<br/> +Thou art a squier, and he is a knight,<br/> +But God forbidde, for his blissful might,<br/> +But if a clerk could do a gentle deed<br/> +As well as any of you, it is no drede* *doubt<br/> +Sir, I release thee thy thousand pound,<br/> +As thou right now were crept out of the ground,<br/> +Nor ever ere now haddest knowen me.<br/> +For, Sir, I will not take a penny of thee<br/> +For all my craft, nor naught for my travail;* *labour, pains<br/> +Thou hast y-payed well for my vitaille;<br/> +It is enough; and farewell, have good day.”<br/> +And took his horse, and forth he went his way.<br/> +Lordings, this question would I aske now,<br/> +Which was the moste free,* as thinketh you? *generous <32><br/> +Now telle me, ere that ye farther wend.<br/> +I can* no more, my tale is at an end. *know, can tell +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to The Franklin’s Tale +</p> + +<p> +1. Well unnethes durst this knight for dread: This knight hardly +dared, for fear (that she would not entertain his suit.) +</p> + +<p> +2. “Ne woulde God never betwixt us twain, +As in my guilt, were either war or strife” +Would to God there may never be war or strife between us, +through my fault. +</p> + +<p> +3. Perhaps the true reading is “beteth” — prepares, makes ready, +his wings for flight. +</p> + +<p> +4. Penmark: On the west coast of Brittany, between Brest and +L’Orient. The name is composed of two British words, “pen,” +mountain, and “mark,” region; it therefore means the +mountainous country +</p> + +<p> +5. Cairrud: “The red city;” it is not known where it was +situated. +</p> + +<p> +6. Warished: cured; French, “guerir,” to heal, or recover from +sickness. +</p> + +<p> +7. Annoyeth: works mischief; from Latin, “nocco,” I hurt. +</p> + +<p> +8. Virelays: ballads; the “virelai” was an ancient French poem +of two rhymes. +</p> + +<p> +9. Lucina the sheen: Diana the bright. See note 54 to the +Knight’s Tale. +</p> + +<p> +10. In a Latin poem, very popular in Chaucer’s time, Pamphilus +relates his amour with Galatea, setting out with the idea +adopted by our poet in the lines that follow. +</p> + +<p> +11. Sursanure: A wound healed on the surface, but festering +beneath. +</p> + +<p> +12. Orleans: Where there was a celebrated and very famous +university, afterwards eclipsed by that of Paris. It was founded +by Philip le Bel in 1312. +</p> + +<p> +13. Every halk and every hern: Every nook and corner, Anglo- +Saxon, “healc,” a nook; “hyrn,” a corner. +</p> + +<p> +14. Tregetoures: tricksters, jugglers. The word is probably +derived — in “treget,” deceit or imposture — from the French +“trebuchet,” a military machine; since it is evident that much and +elaborate machinery must have been employed to produce the +effects afterwards described. Another derivation is from the +Low Latin, “tricator,” a deceiver. +</p> + +<p> +15. Lissed of: eased of; released from; another form of “less” or +“lessen.” +</p> + +<p> +16. Gironde: The river, formed by the union of the Dordogne +and Garonne, on which Bourdeaux stands. +</p> + +<p> +17. Nor gladly for that sum he would not gon: And even for +that sum he would not willingly go to work. +</p> + +<p> +18. “Noel,” the French for Christmas — derived from “natalis,” +and signifying that on that day Christ was born — came to be +used as a festive cry by the people on solemn occasions. +</p> + +<p> +19. Tables Toletanes: Toledan tables; the astronomical tables +composed by order Of Alphonso II, King of Castile, about 1250 +and so called because they were adapted to the city of Toledo. +</p> + +<p> +20. “Alnath,” Says Mr Wright, was “the first star in the horns of +Aries, whence the first mansion of the moon is named.” +</p> + +<p> +21. Another and better reading is “a week or two.” +</p> + +<p> +22. These stories are all taken from the book of St Jerome +“Contra Jovinianum,” from which the Wife of Bath drew so +many of her ancient instances. See note 1 to the prologue to the +Wife of Bath’s Tale. +</p> + +<p> +23. Panthea. Abradatas, King of Susa, was an ally of the +Assyrians against Cyrus; and his wife was taken at the conquest +of the Assyrian camp. Struck by the honourable treatment she +received at the captors hands, Abradatas joined Cyrus, and fell +in battle against his former alhes. His wife, inconsolable at his +loss, slew herself immediately. +</p> + +<p> +24. Protesilaus was the husband of Laedamia. She begged the +gods, after his death, that but three hours’ converse with him +might be allowed her; the request was granted; and when her +dead husband, at the expiry of the time, returned to the world of +shades, she bore him company. +</p> + +<p> +25. The daughter of Cato of Utica, Porcia married Marcus +Brutus, the friend and the assassin of Julius Caesar; when her +husband died by his own hand after the battle of Philippi, she +committed suicide, it is said, by swallowing live coals — all +other means having been removed by her friends. +</p> + +<p> +26. Artemisia, Queen of Caria, who built to her husband +Mausolus, the splendid monument which was accounted among +the wonders of the world; and who mingled her husband’s ashes +with her daily drink. “Barbarie” is used in the Greek sense, to +designate the non-Hellenic peoples of Asia. +</p> + +<p> +27. Teuta: Queen of Illyria, who, after her husband’s death, +made war on and was conquered by the Romans, B.C 228. +</p> + +<p> +28. At this point, in some manuscripts, occur thefollowing two<br/> +lines: —<br/> +“The same thing I say of Bilia,<br/> +Of Rhodegone and of Valeria.” +</p> + +<p> +29. Bound: prepared; going. To “boun” or “bown” is a good +old word, whence comes our word “bound,” in the sense of “on +the way.” +</p> + +<p> +30. That from his lust yet were him lever abide: He would +rather do without his pleasure. +</p> + +<p> +31. Such apparence: such an ocular deception, or apparition — +more properly, disappearance — as the removal of the rocks. +</p> + +<p> +32. The same question is stated a the end of Boccaccio’s version +of the story in the “Philocopo,” where the queen determines in +favour of Aviragus. The question is evidently one of those +which it was the fashion to propose for debate in the mediaeval +“courts of love.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap17"></a>THE DOCTOR’S TALE.</h2> + +<h3>THE PROLOGUE. <1></h3> + +<p> +[“YEA, let that passe,” quoth our Host, “as now.<br/> +Sir Doctor of Physik, I praye you,<br/> +Tell us a tale of some honest mattere.”<br/> +“It shall be done, if that ye will it hear,”<br/> +Said this Doctor; and his tale gan anon.<br/> +“Now, good men,” quoth he, “hearken everyone.”] +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Prologue to the Doctor’s Tale +</p> + +<p> +1. The authenticity of the prologue is questionable. It is found in +one manuscript only; other manuscripts give other prologues, +more plainly not Chaucer’s than this; and some manuscripts +have merely a colophon to the effect that “Here endeth the +Franklin’s Tale and beginneth the Physician’s Tale without a +prologue.” The Tale itself is the well-known story of Virginia, +with several departures from the text of Livy. Chaucer probably +followed the “Romance of the Rose” and Gower’s “Confessio +Amantis,” in both of which the story is found. +</p> + +<h3>THE TALE.</h3> + +<p> +There was, as telleth Titus Livius, <1><br/> +A knight, that called was Virginius,<br/> +Full filled of honour and worthiness,<br/> +And strong of friendes, and of great richess.<br/> +This knight one daughter hadde by his wife;<br/> +No children had he more in all his life.<br/> +Fair was this maid in excellent beauty<br/> +Aboven ev’ry wight that man may see:<br/> +For nature had with sov’reign diligence<br/> +Y-formed her in so great excellence,<br/> +As though she woulde say, “Lo, I, Nature,<br/> +Thus can I form and paint a creature,<br/> +When that me list; who can me counterfeit?<br/> +Pygmalion? not though he aye forge and beat,<br/> +Or grave or painte: for I dare well sayn,<br/> +Apelles, Zeuxis, shoulde work in vain,<br/> +Either to grave, or paint, or forge, or beat,<br/> +If they presumed me to counterfeit.<br/> +For he that is the former principal,<br/> +Hath made me his vicar-general<br/> +To form and painten earthly creatures<br/> +Right as me list, and all thing in my cure* is, *care<br/> +Under the moone, that may wane and wax.<br/> +And for my work right nothing will I ax* *ask<br/> +My lord and I be full of one accord.<br/> +I made her to the worship* of my lord;<br/> +So do I all mine other creatures,<br/> +What colour that they have, or what figures.”<br/> +Thus seemeth me that Nature woulde say. +</p> + +<p> +This maiden was of age twelve year and tway,* *two<br/> +In which that Nature hadde such delight.<br/> +For right as she can paint a lily white,<br/> +And red a rose, right with such painture<br/> +She painted had this noble creature,<br/> +Ere she was born, upon her limbes free,<br/> +Where as by right such colours shoulde be:<br/> +And Phoebus dyed had her tresses great,<br/> +Like to the streames* of his burned heat. *beams, rays<br/> +And if that excellent was her beauty,<br/> +A thousand-fold more virtuous was she.<br/> +In her there lacked no condition,<br/> +That is to praise, as by discretion.<br/> +As well in ghost* as body chaste was she: *mind, spirit<br/> +For which she flower’d in virginity,<br/> +With all humility and abstinence,<br/> +With alle temperance and patience,<br/> +With measure* eke of bearing and array. *moderation<br/> +Discreet she was in answering alway,<br/> +Though she were wise as Pallas, dare I sayn;<br/> +Her faconde* eke full womanly and plain, *speech <2><br/> +No counterfeited termes hadde she<br/> +To seeme wise; but after her degree<br/> +She spake, and all her worde’s more and less<br/> +Sounding in virtue and in gentleness.<br/> +Shamefast she was in maiden’s shamefastness,<br/> +Constant in heart, and ever *in business* *diligent, eager*<br/> +To drive her out of idle sluggardy:<br/> +Bacchus had of her mouth right no mast’ry.<br/> +For wine and slothe <3> do Venus increase,<br/> +As men in fire will casten oil and grease.<br/> +And of her owen virtue, unconstrain’d,<br/> +She had herself full often sick y-feign’d,<br/> +For that she woulde flee the company,<br/> +Where likely was to treaten of folly,<br/> +As is at feasts, at revels, and at dances,<br/> +That be occasions of dalliances.<br/> +Such thinges make children for to be<br/> +Too soone ripe and bold, as men may see,<br/> +Which is full perilous, and hath been yore;* *of old<br/> +For all too soone may she learne lore<br/> +Of boldeness, when that she is a wife. +</p> + +<p> +And ye mistresses,* in your olde life *governesses, duennas<br/> +That lordes’ daughters have in governance,<br/> +Take not of my wordes displeasance<br/> +Thinke that ye be set in governings<br/> +Of lordes’ daughters only for two things;<br/> +Either for ye have kept your honesty,<br/> +Or else for ye have fallen in frailty<br/> +And knowe well enough the olde dance,<br/> +And have forsaken fully such meschance* *wickedness <4><br/> +For evermore; therefore, for Christe’s sake,<br/> +To teach them virtue look that ye not slake.* *be slack, fail<br/> +A thief of venison, that hath forlaft* *forsaken, left<br/> +His lik’rousness,* and all his olde craft, *gluttony<br/> +Can keep a forest best of any man;<br/> +Now keep them well, for if ye will ye can.<br/> +Look well, that ye unto no vice assent,<br/> +Lest ye be damned for your wick’* intent, *wicked, evil<br/> +For whoso doth, a traitor is certain;<br/> +And take keep* of that I shall you sayn; *heed<br/> +Of alle treason, sov’reign pestilence<br/> +Is when a wight betrayeth innocence.<br/> +Ye fathers, and ye mothers eke also,<br/> +Though ye have children, be it one or mo’,<br/> +Yours is the charge of all their surveyance,* *supervision<br/> +While that they be under your governance.<br/> +Beware, that by example of your living,<br/> +Or by your negligence in chastising,<br/> +That they not perish for I dare well say,<br/> +If that they do, ye shall it dear abeye.* *pay for, suffer for<br/> +Under a shepherd soft and negligent<br/> +The wolf hath many a sheep and lamb to-rent.<br/> +Suffice this example now as here,<br/> +For I must turn again to my mattere. +</p> + +<p> +This maid, of which I tell my tale express,<br/> +She kept herself, her needed no mistress;<br/> +For in her living maidens mighte read,<br/> +As in a book, ev’ry good word and deed<br/> +That longeth to a maiden virtuous;<br/> +She was so prudent and so bounteous.<br/> +For which the fame out sprang on every side<br/> +Both of her beauty and her bounte* wide: *goodness<br/> +That through the land they praised her each one<br/> +That loved virtue, save envy alone,<br/> +That sorry is of other manne’s weal,<br/> +And glad is of his sorrow and unheal* — *misfortune<br/> +The Doctor maketh this descriptioun. — <5><br/> +This maiden on a day went in the town<br/> +Toward a temple, with her mother dear,<br/> +As is of younge maidens the mannere.<br/> +Now was there then a justice in that town,<br/> +That governor was of that regioun:<br/> +And so befell, this judge his eyen cast<br/> +Upon this maid, avising* her full fast, *observing<br/> +As she came forth by where this judge stood;<br/> +Anon his hearte changed and his mood,<br/> +So was he caught with beauty of this maid<br/> +And to himself full privily he said,<br/> +“This maiden shall be mine *for any man.”* *despite what any<br/> +Anon the fiend into his hearte ran, man may do*<br/> +And taught him suddenly, that he by sleight<br/> +This maiden to his purpose winne might.<br/> +For certes, by no force, nor by no meed,* *bribe, reward<br/> +Him thought he was not able for to speed;<br/> +For she was strong of friendes, and eke she<br/> +Confirmed was in such sov’reign bounte,<br/> +That well he wist he might her never win,<br/> +As for to make her with her body sin.<br/> +For which, with great deliberatioun,<br/> +He sent after a clerk <6> was in the town,<br/> +The which he knew for subtle and for bold.<br/> +This judge unto this clerk his tale told<br/> +In secret wise, and made him to assure<br/> +He shoulde tell it to no creature,<br/> +And if he did, he shoulde lose his head.<br/> +And when assented was this cursed rede,* *counsel, plot<br/> +Glad was the judge, and made him greate cheer,<br/> +And gave him giftes precious and dear.<br/> +When shapen* was all their conspiracy *arranged<br/> +From point to point, how that his lechery<br/> +Performed shoulde be full subtilly,<br/> +As ye shall hear it after openly,<br/> +Home went this clerk, that highte Claudius.<br/> +This false judge, that highte Appius, —<br/> +(So was his name, for it is no fable,<br/> +But knowen for a storial* thing notable; *historical, authentic<br/> +The sentence* of it sooth** is out of doubt); — *account **true<br/> +This false judge went now fast about<br/> +To hasten his delight all that he may.<br/> +And so befell, soon after on a day,<br/> +This false judge, as telleth us the story,<br/> +As he was wont, sat in his consistory,<br/> +And gave his doomes* upon sundry case’; *judgments<br/> +This false clerk came forth *a full great pace,* *in haste<br/> +And saide; Lord, if that it be your will,<br/> +As do me right upon this piteous bill,* *petition<br/> +In which I plain upon Virginius.<br/> +And if that he will say it is not thus,<br/> +I will it prove, and finde good witness,<br/> +That sooth is what my bille will express.”<br/> +The judge answer’d, “Of this, in his absence,<br/> +I may not give definitive sentence.<br/> +Let do* him call, and I will gladly hear; *cause<br/> +Thou shalt have alle right, and no wrong here.”<br/> +Virginius came to weet* the judge’s will, *know, learn<br/> +And right anon was read this cursed bill;<br/> +The sentence of it was as ye shall hear<br/> +“To you, my lord, Sir Appius so clear,<br/> +Sheweth your poore servant Claudius,<br/> +How that a knight called Virginius,<br/> +Against the law, against all equity,<br/> +Holdeth, express against the will of me,<br/> +My servant, which that is my thrall* by right, *slave<br/> +Which from my house was stolen on a night,<br/> +While that she was full young; I will it preve* *prove<br/> +By witness, lord, so that it you *not grieve;* *be not displeasing*<br/> +She is his daughter not, what so he say.<br/> +Wherefore to you, my lord the judge, I pray,<br/> +Yield me my thrall, if that it be your will.”<br/> +Lo, this was all the sentence of the bill.<br/> +Virginius gan upon the clerk behold;<br/> +But hastily, ere he his tale told,<br/> +And would have proved it, as should a knight,<br/> +And eke by witnessing of many a wight,<br/> +That all was false that said his adversary,<br/> +This cursed judge would no longer tarry,<br/> +Nor hear a word more of Virginius,<br/> +But gave his judgement, and saide thus:<br/> +“I deem* anon this clerk his servant have; *pronounce, determine<br/> +Thou shalt no longer in thy house her save.<br/> +Go, bring her forth, and put her in our ward<br/> +The clerk shall have his thrall: thus I award.” +</p> + +<p> +And when this worthy knight, Virginius,<br/> +Through sentence of this justice Appius,<br/> +Muste by force his deare daughter give<br/> +Unto the judge, in lechery to live,<br/> +He went him home, and sat him in his hall,<br/> +And let anon his deare daughter call;<br/> +And with a face dead as ashes cold<br/> +Upon her humble face he gan behold,<br/> +With father’s pity sticking* through his heart, *piercing<br/> +All* would he from his purpose not convert.** *although **turn aside<br/> +“Daughter,” quoth he, “Virginia by name,<br/> +There be two wayes, either death or shame,<br/> +That thou must suffer, — alas that I was bore!* *born<br/> +For never thou deservedest wherefore<br/> +To dien with a sword or with a knife,<br/> +O deare daughter, ender of my life,<br/> +Whom I have foster’d up with such pleasance<br/> +That thou were ne’er out of my remembrance;<br/> +O daughter, which that art my laste woe,<br/> +And in this life my laste joy also,<br/> +O gem of chastity, in patience<br/> +Take thou thy death, for this is my sentence:<br/> +For love and not for hate thou must be dead;<br/> +My piteous hand must smiten off thine head.<br/> +Alas, that ever Appius thee say!* *saw<br/> +Thus hath he falsely judged thee to-day.”<br/> +And told her all the case, as ye before<br/> +Have heard; it needeth not to tell it more. +</p> + +<p> +“O mercy, deare father,” quoth the maid.<br/> +And with that word she both her armes laid<br/> +About his neck, as she was wont to do,<br/> +(The teares burst out of her eyen two),<br/> +And said, “O goode father, shall I die?<br/> +Is there no grace? is there no remedy?”<br/> +“No, certes, deare daughter mine,” quoth he.<br/> +“Then give me leisure, father mine, quoth she,<br/> +“My death for to complain* a little space *bewail<br/> +For, pardie, Jephthah gave his daughter grace<br/> +For to complain, ere he her slew, alas! <7><br/> +And, God it wot, nothing was her trespass,* *offence<br/> +But for she ran her father first to see,<br/> +To welcome him with great solemnity.”<br/> +And with that word she fell a-swoon anon;<br/> +And after, when her swooning was y-gone,<br/> +She rose up, and unto her father said:<br/> +“Blessed be God, that I shall die a maid.<br/> +Give me my death, ere that I have shame;<br/> +Do with your child your will, in Godde’s name.”<br/> +And with that word she prayed him full oft<br/> +That with his sword he woulde smite her soft;<br/> +And with that word, a-swoon again she fell.<br/> +Her father, with full sorrowful heart and fell,* *stern, cruel<br/> +Her head off smote, and by the top it hent,* *took<br/> +And to the judge he went it to present,<br/> +As he sat yet in doom* in consistory. *judgment +</p> + +<p> +And when the judge it saw, as saith the story,<br/> +He bade to take him, and to hang him fast.<br/> +But right anon a thousand people *in thrast* *rushed in*<br/> +To save the knight, for ruth and for pity<br/> +For knowen was the false iniquity.<br/> +The people anon had suspect* in this thing, *suspicion<br/> +By manner of the clerke’s challenging,<br/> +That it was by th’assent of Appius;<br/> +They wiste well that he was lecherous.<br/> +For which unto this Appius they gon,<br/> +And cast him in a prison right anon,<br/> +Where as he slew himself: and Claudius,<br/> +That servant was unto this Appius,<br/> +Was doomed for to hang upon a tree;<br/> +But that Virginius, of his pity,<br/> +So prayed for him, that he was exil’d;<br/> +And elles certes had he been beguil’d;* *see note <8><br/> +The remenant were hanged, more and less,<br/> +That were consenting to this cursedness.* *villainy<br/> +Here men may see how sin hath his merite:* *deserts<br/> +Beware, for no man knows how God will smite<br/> +In no degree, nor in which manner wise<br/> +The worm of conscience may agrise* frighten, horrify<br/> +Of wicked life, though it so privy be,<br/> +That no man knows thereof, save God and he;<br/> +For be he lewed* man or elles lear’d,** *ignorant **learned<br/> +He knows not how soon he shall be afear’d;<br/> +Therefore I rede* you this counsel take, *advise<br/> +Forsake sin, ere sinne you forsake. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Doctor’s Tale +</p> + +<p> +1. Livy, Book iii. cap. 44, et seqq. +</p> + +<p> +2. Faconde: utterance, speech; from Latin, “facundia,” +eloquence. +</p> + +<p> +3. Slothe: other readings are “thought” and “youth.” +</p> + +<p> +4. Meschance: wickedness; French, “mechancete.” +</p> + +<p> +5. This line seems to be a kind of aside thrown in by Chaucer +himself. +</p> + +<p> +6. The various readings of this word are “churl,” or “cherl,” in +the best manuscripts; “client” in the common editions, and +“clerk” supported by two important manuscripts. “Client” +would perhaps be the best reading, if it were not awkward for +the metre; but between “churl” and “clerk” there can be little +doubt that Mr Wright chose wisely when he preferred the +second. +</p> + +<p> +7. Judges xi. 37, 38. “And she said unto her father, +Let . . . me alone two months, that I may go up and down upon +the mountains, and bewail my virginity, I and my fellows. And +he said, go.” +</p> + +<p> +8. Beguiled: “cast into gaol,” according to Urry’s explanation; +though we should probably understand that, if Claudius had not +been sent out of the country, his death would have been secretly +contrived through private detestation. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap18"></a>THE PARDONER’S TALE.</h2> + +<h3>THE PROLOGUE.</h3> + +<p> +OUR Hoste gan to swear as he were wood;<br/> +“Harow!” quoth he, “by nailes and by blood, <1><br/> +This was a cursed thief, a false justice.<br/> +As shameful death as hearte can devise<br/> +Come to these judges and their advoca’s.* *advocates, counsellors<br/> +Algate* this sely** maid is slain, alas! *nevertheless **innocent<br/> +Alas! too deare bought she her beauty.<br/> +Wherefore I say, that all day man may see<br/> +That giftes of fortune and of nature<br/> +Be cause of death to many a creature.<br/> +Her beauty was her death, I dare well sayn;<br/> +Alas! so piteously as she was slain.<br/> +[Of bothe giftes, that I speak of now<br/> +Men have full often more harm than prow,*] *profit<br/> +But truely, mine owen master dear,<br/> +This was a piteous tale for to hear;<br/> +But natheless, pass over; ’tis *no force.* *no matter*<br/> +I pray to God to save thy gentle corse,* *body<br/> +And eke thine urinals, and thy jordans,<br/> +Thine Hippocras, and eke thy Galliens, <2><br/> +And every boist* full of thy lectuary, *box <3><br/> +God bless them, and our lady Sainte Mary.<br/> +So may I the’,* thou art a proper man, *thrive<br/> +And like a prelate, by Saint Ronian;<br/> +Said I not well? Can I not speak *in term?* *in set form*<br/> +But well I wot thou dost* mine heart to erme,** *makest **grieve<4><br/> +That I have almost caught a cardiacle:* *heartache <5><br/> +By corpus Domini <6>, but* I have triacle,** *unless **a remedy<br/> +Or else a draught of moist and corny <7> ale,<br/> +Or but* I hear anon a merry tale, *unless<br/> +Mine heart is brost* for pity of this maid. *burst, broken<br/> +Thou *bel ami,* thou Pardoner,” he said, *good friend*<br/> +“Tell us some mirth of japes* right anon.” *jokes<br/> +“It shall be done,” quoth he, “by Saint Ronion.<br/> +But first,” quoth he, “here at this ale-stake* *ale-house sign <8><br/> +I will both drink, and biten on a cake.”<br/> +But right anon the gentles gan to cry,<br/> +“Nay, let him tell us of no ribaldry.<br/> +Tell us some moral thing, that we may lear* *learn<br/> +Some wit,* and thenne will we gladly hear.” *wisdom, sense<br/> +“I grant y-wis,”* quoth he; “but I must think *surely<br/> +Upon some honest thing while that I drink.” +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Prologue to the Pardoner’s Tale +</p> + +<p> +1. The nails and blood of Christ, by which it was then a fashion +to swear. +</p> + +<p> +2. Mediaeval medical writers; see note 36 to the Prologue to the +Tales. +</p> + +<p> +3. Boist: box; French “boite,” old form “boiste.” +</p> + +<p> +4. Erme: grieve; from Anglo-Saxon, “earme,” wretched. +</p> + +<p> +5. Cardiacle: heartache; from Greek, “kardialgia.” +</p> + +<p> +6. Corpus Domini: God’s body. +</p> + +<p> +7. Corny ale: New and strong, nappy. As to “moist,” see note +39 to the Prologue to the Tales. +</p> + +<p> +8. (Transcriber’s Note)In this scene the pilgrims are refreshing +themselves at tables in front of an inn. The pardoner is drunk, +which explains his boastful and revealing confession of his +deceits. +</p> + +<h3>THE TALE <1></h3> + +<p> +Lordings (quoth he), in churche when I preach,<br/> +I paine me to have an hautein* speech, *take pains **loud <2><br/> +And ring it out, as round as doth a bell,<br/> +For I know all by rote that I tell.<br/> +My theme is always one, and ever was;<br/> +Radix malorum est cupiditas.<3><br/> +First I pronounce whence that I come,<br/> +And then my bulles shew I all and some;<br/> +Our liege lorde’s seal on my patent,<br/> +That shew I first, *my body to warrent,* *for the protection<br/> +That no man be so hardy, priest nor clerk, of my person*<br/> +Me to disturb of Christe’s holy werk.<br/> +And after that then tell I forth my tales.<br/> +Bulles of popes, and of cardinales,<br/> +Of patriarchs, and of bishops I shew,<br/> +And in Latin I speak a wordes few,<br/> +To savour with my predication,<br/> +And for to stir men to devotion<br/> +Then show I forth my longe crystal stones,<br/> +Y-crammed fall of cloutes* and of bones; *rags, fragments<br/> +Relics they be, as *weene they* each one. *as my listeners think*<br/> +Then have I in latoun* a shoulder-bone *brass<br/> +Which that was of a holy Jewe’s sheep.<br/> +“Good men,” say I, “take of my wordes keep;* *heed<br/> +If that this bone be wash’d in any well,<br/> +If cow, or calf, or sheep, or oxe swell,<br/> +That any worm hath eat, or worm y-stung,<br/> +Take water of that well, and wash his tongue,<br/> +And it is whole anon; and farthermore<br/> +Of pockes, and of scab, and every sore<br/> +Shall every sheep be whole, that of this well<br/> +Drinketh a draught; take keep* of that I tell. *heed +</p> + +<p> +“If that the goodman, that the beastes oweth,* *owneth<br/> +Will every week, ere that the cock him croweth,<br/> +Fasting, y-drinken of this well a draught,<br/> +As thilke holy Jew our elders taught,<br/> +His beastes and his store shall multiply.<br/> +And, Sirs, also it healeth jealousy;<br/> +For though a man be fall’n in jealous rage,<br/> +Let make with this water his pottage,<br/> +And never shall he more his wife mistrist,* *mistrust<br/> +*Though he the sooth of her defaulte wist;* *though he truly<br/> +All had she taken priestes two or three. <4> knew her sin*<br/> +Here is a mittain* eke, that ye may see; *glove, mitten<br/> +He that his hand will put in this mittain,<br/> +He shall have multiplying of his grain,<br/> +When he hath sowen, be it wheat or oats,<br/> +So that he offer pence, or elles groats.<br/> +And, men and women, one thing warn I you;<br/> +If any wight be in this churche now<br/> +That hath done sin horrible, so that he<br/> +Dare not for shame of it y-shriven* be; *confessed<br/> +Or any woman, be she young or old,<br/> +That hath y-made her husband cokewold,* *cuckold<br/> +Such folk shall have no power nor no grace<br/> +To offer to my relics in this place.<br/> +And whoso findeth him out of such blame,<br/> +He will come up and offer in God’s name;<br/> +And I assoil* him by the authority *absolve<br/> +Which that by bull y-granted was to me.” +</p> + +<p> +By this gaud* have I wonne year by year *jest, trick<br/> +A hundred marks, since I was pardonere.<br/> +I stande like a clerk in my pulpit,<br/> +And when the lewed* people down is set, *ignorant<br/> +I preache so as ye have heard before,<br/> +And telle them a hundred japes* more. *jests, deceits<br/> +Then pain I me to stretche forth my neck,<br/> +And east and west upon the people I beck,<br/> +As doth a dove, sitting on a bern;* *barn<br/> +My handes and my tongue go so yern,* *briskly<br/> +That it is joy to see my business.<br/> +Of avarice and of such cursedness* *wickedness<br/> +Is all my preaching, for to make them free<br/> +To give their pence, and namely* unto me. *especially<br/> +For mine intent is not but for to win,<br/> +And nothing for correction of sin.<br/> +I recke never, when that they be buried,<br/> +Though that their soules go a blackburied.<5><br/> +For certes *many a predication *preaching is often inspired<br/> +Cometh oft-time of evil intention;* by evil motives*<br/> +Some for pleasance of folk, and flattery,<br/> +To be advanced by hypocrisy;<br/> +And some for vainglory, and some for hate.<br/> +For, when I dare not otherwise debate,<br/> +Then will I sting him with my tongue smart* *sharply<br/> +In preaching, so that he shall not astart* *escape<br/> +To be defamed falsely, if that he<br/> +Hath trespass’d* to my brethren or to me. *offended<br/> +For, though I telle not his proper name,<br/> +Men shall well knowe that it is the same<br/> +By signes, and by other circumstances.<br/> +Thus *quite I* folk that do us displeasances: *I am revenged on*<br/> +Thus spit I out my venom, under hue<br/> +Of holiness, to seem holy and true.<br/> +But, shortly mine intent I will devise,<br/> +I preach of nothing but of covetise.<br/> +Therefore my theme is yet, and ever was, —<br/> +Radix malorum est cupiditas. <3><br/> +Thus can I preach against the same vice<br/> +Which that I use, and that is avarice.<br/> +But though myself be guilty in that sin,<br/> +Yet can I maken other folk to twin* *depart<br/> +From avarice, and sore them repent.<br/> +But that is not my principal intent;<br/> +I preache nothing but for covetise.<br/> +Of this mattere it ought enough suffice.<br/> +Then tell I them examples many a one,<br/> +Of olde stories longe time gone;<br/> +For lewed* people love tales old; *unlearned<br/> +Such thinges can they well report and hold.<br/> +What? trowe ye, that whiles I may preach<br/> +And winne gold and silver for* I teach, *because<br/> +That I will live in povert’ wilfully?<br/> +Nay, nay, I thought it never truely.<br/> +For I will preach and beg in sundry lands;<br/> +I will not do no labour with mine hands,<br/> +Nor make baskets for to live thereby,<br/> +Because I will not beggen idlely.<br/> +I will none of the apostles counterfeit;* *imitate (in poverty)<br/> +I will have money, wool, and cheese, and wheat,<br/> +All* were it given of the poorest page, *even if<br/> +Or of the pooreste widow in a village:<br/> +All should her children sterve* for famine. *die<br/> +Nay, I will drink the liquor of the vine,<br/> +And have a jolly wench in every town.<br/> +But hearken, lordings, in conclusioun;<br/> +Your liking is, that I shall tell a tale<br/> +Now I have drunk a draught of corny ale,<br/> +By God, I hope I shall you tell a thing<br/> +That shall by reason be to your liking;<br/> +For though myself be a full vicious man,<br/> +A moral tale yet I you telle can,<br/> +Which I am wont to preache, for to win.<br/> +Now hold your peace, my tale I will begin. +</p> + +<p> +In Flanders whilom was a company<br/> +Of younge folkes, that haunted folly,<br/> +As riot, hazard, stewes,* and taverns; *brothels<br/> +Where as with lutes, harpes, and giterns,* *guitars<br/> +They dance and play at dice both day and night,<br/> +And eat also, and drink over their might;<br/> +Through which they do the devil sacrifice<br/> +Within the devil’s temple, in cursed wise,<br/> +By superfluity abominable.<br/> +Their oathes be so great and so damnable,<br/> +That it is grisly* for to hear them swear. *dreadful <6><br/> +Our blissful Lorde’s body they to-tear;* *tore to pieces <7><br/> +Them thought the Jewes rent him not enough,<br/> +And each of them at other’s sinne lough.* *laughed<br/> +And right anon in come tombesteres <8><br/> +Fetis* and small, and younge fruitesteres.** *dainty **fruit-girls<br/> +Singers with harpes, baudes,* waferers,** *revellers **cake-sellers<br/> +Which be the very devil’s officers,<br/> +To kindle and blow the fire of lechery,<br/> +That is annexed unto gluttony.<br/> +The Holy Writ take I to my witness,<br/> +That luxury is in wine and drunkenness. <9><br/> +Lo, how that drunken Lot unkindely* *unnaturally<br/> +Lay by his daughters two unwittingly,<br/> +So drunk he was he knew not what he wrought.<br/> +Herodes, who so well the stories sought, <10><br/> +When he of wine replete was at his feast,<br/> +Right at his owen table gave his hest* *command<br/> +To slay the Baptist John full guilteless.<br/> +Seneca saith a good word, doubteless:<br/> +He saith he can no difference find<br/> +Betwixt a man that is out of his mind,<br/> +And a man whiche that is drunkelew:* *a drunkard <11><br/> +But that woodness,* y-fallen in a shrew,* *madness **one evil-tempered<br/> +Persevereth longer than drunkenness. +</p> + +<p> +O gluttony, full of all cursedness;<br/> +O cause first of our confusion,<br/> +Original of our damnation,<br/> +Till Christ had bought us with his blood again!<br/> +Looke, how deare, shortly for to sayn,<br/> +Abought* was first this cursed villainy: *atoned for<br/> +Corrupt was all this world for gluttony.<br/> +Adam our father, and his wife also,<br/> +From Paradise, to labour and to woe,<br/> +Were driven for that vice, it is no dread.* *doubt<br/> +For while that Adam fasted, as I read,<br/> +He was in Paradise; and when that he<br/> +Ate of the fruit defended* of the tree, *forbidden <12><br/> +Anon he was cast out to woe and pain.<br/> +O gluttony! well ought us on thee plain.<br/> +Oh! wist a man how many maladies<br/> +Follow of excess and of gluttonies,<br/> +He woulde be the more measurable* *moderate<br/> +Of his diete, sitting at his table.<br/> +Alas! the shorte throat, the tender mouth,<br/> +Maketh that east and west, and north and south,<br/> +In earth, in air, in water, men do swink* *labour<br/> +To get a glutton dainty meat and drink.<br/> +Of this mattere, O Paul! well canst thou treat<br/> +Meat unto womb,* and womb eke unto meat, *belly<br/> +Shall God destroye both, as Paulus saith. <13><br/> +Alas! a foul thing is it, by my faith,<br/> +To say this word, and fouler is the deed,<br/> +When man so drinketh of the *white and red,* *i.e. wine*<br/> +That of his throat he maketh his privy<br/> +Through thilke cursed superfluity<br/> +The apostle saith, <14> weeping full piteously,<br/> +There walk many, of which you told have I, —<br/> +I say it now weeping with piteous voice, —<br/> +That they be enemies of Christe’s crois;* *cross<br/> +Of which the end is death; womb* is their God. *belly<br/> +O womb, O belly, stinking is thy cod,* *bag <15><br/> +Full fill’d of dung and of corruptioun;<br/> +At either end of thee foul is the soun.<br/> +How great labour and cost is thee to find!* *supply<br/> +These cookes how they stamp, and strain, and grind,<br/> +And turne substance into accident,<br/> +To fulfill all thy likerous talent!<br/> +Out of the harde bones knocke they<br/> +The marrow, for they caste naught away<br/> +That may go through the gullet soft and swoot* *sweet<br/> +Of spicery and leaves, of bark and root,<br/> +Shall be his sauce y-maked by delight,<br/> +To make him have a newer appetite.<br/> +But, certes, he that haunteth such delices<br/> +Is dead while that he liveth in those vices. +</p> + +<p> +A lecherous thing is wine, and drunkenness<br/> +Is full of striving and of wretchedness.<br/> +O drunken man! disfgur’d is thy face,<16><br/> +Sour is thy breath, foul art thou to embrace:<br/> +And through thy drunken nose sowneth the soun’,<br/> +As though thous saidest aye, Samsoun! Samsoun!<br/> +And yet, God wot, Samson drank never wine.<br/> +Thou fallest as it were a sticked swine;<br/> +Thy tongue is lost, and all thine honest cure;* *care<br/> +For drunkenness is very sepulture* *tomb<br/> +Of manne’s wit and his discretion.<br/> +In whom that drink hath domination,<br/> +He can no counsel keep, it is no dread.* *doubt<br/> +Now keep you from the white and from the red,<br/> +And namely* from the white wine of Lepe,<17> *especially<br/> +That is to sell in Fish Street <18> and in Cheap.<br/> +This wine of Spaine creepeth subtilly —<br/> +In other wines growing faste by,<br/> +Of which there riseth such fumosity,<br/> +That when a man hath drunken draughtes three,<br/> +And weeneth that he be at home in Cheap,<br/> +He is in Spain, right at the town of Lepe,<br/> +Not at the Rochelle, nor at Bourdeaux town;<br/> +And thenne will he say, Samsoun! Samsoun!<br/> +But hearken, lordings, one word, I you pray,<br/> +That all the sovreign actes, dare I say,<br/> +Of victories in the Old Testament,<br/> +Through very God that is omnipotent,<br/> +Were done in abstinence and in prayere:<br/> +Look in the Bible, and there ye may it lear.* *learn<br/> +Look, Attila, the greate conqueror,<br/> +Died in his sleep, <19> with shame and dishonour,<br/> +Bleeding aye at his nose in drunkenness:<br/> +A captain should aye live in soberness<br/> +And o’er all this, advise* you right well *consider, bethink<br/> +What was commanded unto Lemuel; <20><br/> +Not Samuel, but Lemuel, say I.<br/> +Reade the Bible, and find it expressly<br/> +Of wine giving to them that have justice.<br/> +No more of this, for it may well suffice. +</p> + +<p> +And, now that I have spoke of gluttony,<br/> +Now will I you *defende hazardry.* *forbid gambling*<br/> +Hazard is very mother of leasings,* *lies<br/> +And of deceit, and cursed forswearings:<br/> +Blasphem’ of Christ, manslaughter, and waste also<br/> +Of chattel* and of time; and furthermo’ *property<br/> +It is repreve,* and contrar’ of honour, *reproach<br/> +For to be held a common hazardour.<br/> +And ever the higher he is of estate,<br/> +The more he is holden desolate.* *undone, worthless<br/> +If that a prince use hazardry,<br/> +In alle governance and policy<br/> +He is, as by common opinion,<br/> +Y-hold the less in reputation. +</p> + +<p> +Chilon, that was a wise ambassador,<br/> +Was sent to Corinth with full great honor<br/> +From Lacedemon, <21> to make alliance;<br/> +And when he came, it happen’d him, by chance,<br/> +That all the greatest that were of that land,<br/> +Y-playing atte hazard he them fand.* *found<br/> +For which, as soon as that it mighte be,<br/> +He stole him home again to his country<br/> +And saide there, “I will not lose my name,<br/> +Nor will I take on me so great diffame,* *reproach<br/> +You to ally unto no hazardors.* *gamblers<br/> +Sende some other wise ambassadors,<br/> +For, by my troth, me were lever* die, *rather<br/> +Than I should you to hazardors ally.<br/> +For ye, that be so glorious in honours,<br/> +Shall not ally you to no hazardours,<br/> +As by my will, nor as by my treaty.”<br/> +This wise philosopher thus said he.<br/> +Look eke how to the King Demetrius<br/> +The King of Parthes, as the book saith us,<br/> +Sent him a pair of dice of gold in scorn,<br/> +For he had used hazard therebeforn:<br/> +For which he held his glory and renown<br/> +At no value or reputatioun.<br/> +Lordes may finden other manner play<br/> +Honest enough to drive the day away. +</p> + +<p> +Now will I speak of oathes false and great<br/> +A word or two, as olde bookes treat.<br/> +Great swearing is a thing abominable,<br/> +And false swearing is more reprovable.<br/> +The highe God forbade swearing at all;<br/> +Witness on Matthew: <22> but in special<br/> +Of swearing saith the holy Jeremie, <23><br/> +Thou thalt swear sooth thine oathes, and not lie:<br/> +And swear in doom* and eke in righteousness; *judgement<br/> +But idle swearing is a cursedness.* *wickedness<br/> +Behold and see, there in the firste table<br/> +Of highe Godde’s hestes* honourable, *commandments<br/> +How that the second best of him is this,<br/> +Take not my name in idle* or amiss. *in vain<br/> +Lo, rather* he forbiddeth such swearing, *sooner<br/> +Than homicide, or many a cursed thing;<br/> +I say that as by order thus it standeth;<br/> +This knoweth he that his hests* understandeth, *commandments<br/> +How that the second hest of God is that.<br/> +And farthermore, I will thee tell all plat,* *flatly, plainly<br/> +That vengeance shall not parte from his house,<br/> +That of his oathes is outrageous.<br/> +“By Godde’s precious heart, and by his nails, <24><br/> +And by the blood of Christ, that is in Hailes, <25><br/> +Seven is my chance, and thine is cinque and trey:<br/> +By Godde’s armes, if thou falsely play,<br/> +This dagger shall throughout thine hearte go.”<br/> +This fruit comes of the *bicched bones two,* *two cursed bones (dice)*<br/> +Forswearing, ire, falseness, and homicide.<br/> +Now, for the love of Christ that for us died,<br/> +Leave your oathes, bothe great and smale.<br/> +But, Sirs, now will I ell you forth my tale. +</p> + +<p> +These riotoures three, of which I tell,<br/> +Long *erst than* prime rang of any bell, *before<br/> +Were set them in a tavern for to drink;<br/> +And as they sat, they heard a belle clink<br/> +Before a corpse, was carried to the grave.<br/> +That one of them gan calle to his knave,* *servant<br/> +“Go bet,” <26> quoth he, “and aske readily<br/> +What corpse is this, that passeth here forth by;<br/> +And look that thou report his name well.”<br/> +“Sir,” quoth the boy, “it needeth never a deal;* *whit<br/> +It was me told ere ye came here two hours;<br/> +He was, pardie, an old fellow of yours,<br/> +And suddenly he was y-slain to-night;<br/> +Fordrunk* as he sat on his bench upright, *completely drunk<br/> +There came a privy thief, men clepe Death,<br/> +That in this country all the people slay’th,<br/> +And with his spear he smote his heart in two,<br/> +And went his way withoute wordes mo’.<br/> +He hath a thousand slain this pestilence;<br/> +And, master, ere you come in his presence,<br/> +Me thinketh that it were full necessary<br/> +For to beware of such an adversary;<br/> +Be ready for to meet him evermore.<br/> +Thus taughte me my dame; I say no more.”<br/> +“By Sainte Mary,” said the tavernere,<br/> +“The child saith sooth, for he hath slain this year,<br/> +Hence ov’r a mile, within a great village,<br/> +Both man and woman, child, and hind, and page;<br/> +I trow his habitation be there;<br/> +To be advised* great wisdom it were, *watchful, on one’s guard<br/> +Ere* that he did a man a dishonour.” *lest +</p> + +<p> +“Yea, Godde’s armes,” quoth this riotour,<br/> +“Is it such peril with him for to meet?<br/> +I shall him seek, by stile and eke by street.<br/> +I make a vow, by Godde’s digne* bones.” *worthy<br/> +Hearken, fellows, we three be alle ones:* *at one<br/> +Let each of us hold up his hand to other,<br/> +And each of us become the other’s brother,<br/> +And we will slay this false traitor Death;<br/> +He shall be slain, he that so many slay’th,<br/> +By Godde’s dignity, ere it be night.”<br/> +Together have these three their trothe plight<br/> +To live and die each one of them for other<br/> +As though he were his owen sworen brother.<br/> +And up they start, all drunken, in this rage,<br/> +And forth they go towardes that village<br/> +Of which the taverner had spoke beforn,<br/> +And many a grisly* oathe have they sworn, *dreadful<br/> +And Christe’s blessed body they to-rent;* *tore to pieces <7><br/> +“Death shall be dead, if that we may him hent.”* *catch<br/> +When they had gone not fully half a mile,<br/> +Right as they would have trodden o’er a stile,<br/> +An old man and a poore with them met.<br/> +This olde man full meekely them gret,* *greeted<br/> +And saide thus; “Now, lordes, God you see!”* *look on graciously<br/> +The proudest of these riotoures three<br/> +Answer’d again; “What? churl, with sorry grace,<br/> +Why art thou all forwrapped* save thy face? *closely wrapt up<br/> +Why livest thou so long in so great age?”<br/> +This olde man gan look on his visage,<br/> +And saide thus; “For that I cannot find<br/> +A man, though that I walked unto Ind,<br/> +Neither in city, nor in no village go,<br/> +That woulde change his youthe for mine age;<br/> +And therefore must I have mine age still<br/> +As longe time as it is Godde’s will.<br/> +And Death, alas! he will not have my life.<br/> +Thus walk I like a resteless caitife,* *miserable wretch<br/> +And on the ground, which is my mother’s gate,<br/> +I knocke with my staff, early and late,<br/> +And say to her, ‘Leve* mother, let me in. *dear<br/> +Lo, how I wane, flesh, and blood, and skin;<br/> +Alas! when shall my bones be at rest?<br/> +Mother, with you I woulde change my chest,<br/> +That in my chamber longe time hath be,<br/> +Yea, for an hairy clout to *wrap in me.’* *wrap myself in*<br/> +But yet to me she will not do that grace,<br/> +For which fall pale and welked* is my face. *withered<br/> +But, Sirs, to you it is no courtesy<br/> +To speak unto an old man villainy,<br/> +But* he trespass in word or else in deed. *except<br/> +In Holy Writ ye may yourselves read;<br/> +‘Against* an old man, hoar upon his head, *to meet<br/> +Ye should arise:’ therefore I you rede,* *advise<br/> +Ne do unto an old man no harm now,<br/> +No more than ye would a man did you<br/> +In age, if that ye may so long abide.<br/> +And God be with you, whether ye go or ride<br/> +I must go thither as I have to go.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nay, olde churl, by God thou shalt not so,”<br/> +Saide this other hazardor anon;<br/> +“Thou partest not so lightly, by Saint John.<br/> +Thou spakest right now of that traitor Death,<br/> +That in this country all our friendes slay’th;<br/> +Have here my troth, as thou art his espy;* *spy<br/> +Tell where he is, or thou shalt it abie,* *suffer for<br/> +By God and by the holy sacrament;<br/> +For soothly thou art one of his assent<br/> +To slay us younge folk, thou false thief.”<br/> +“Now, Sirs,” quoth he, “if it be you so lief* *desire<br/> +To finde Death, turn up this crooked way,<br/> +For in that grove I left him, by my fay,<br/> +Under a tree, and there he will abide;<br/> +Nor for your boast he will him nothing hide.<br/> +See ye that oak? right there ye shall him find.<br/> +God save you, that bought again mankind,<br/> +And you amend!” Thus said this olde man;<br/> +And evereach of these riotoures ran,<br/> +Till they came to the tree, and there they found<br/> +Of florins fine, of gold y-coined round,<br/> +Well nigh a seven bushels, as them thought.<br/> +No longer as then after Death they sought;<br/> +But each of them so glad was of the sight,<br/> +For that the florins were so fair and bright,<br/> +That down they sat them by the precious hoard.<br/> +The youngest of them spake the firste word:<br/> +“Brethren,” quoth he, “*take keep* what I shall say; *heed*<br/> +My wit is great, though that I bourde* and play *joke, frolic<br/> +This treasure hath Fortune unto us given<br/> +In mirth and jollity our life to liven;<br/> +And lightly as it comes, so will we spend.<br/> +Hey! Godde’s precious dignity! who wend* *weened, thought<br/> +Today that we should have so fair a grace?<br/> +But might this gold he carried from this place<br/> +Home to my house, or elles unto yours<br/> +(For well I wot that all this gold is ours),<br/> +Then were we in high felicity.<br/> +But truely by day it may not be;<br/> +Men woulde say that we were thieves strong,<br/> +And for our owen treasure do us hong.* *have us hanged<br/> +This treasure muste carried be by night,<br/> +As wisely and as slily as it might.<br/> +Wherefore I rede,* that cut** among us all *advise **lots<br/> +We draw, and let see where the cut will fall:<br/> +And he that hath the cut, with hearte blithe<br/> +Shall run unto the town, and that full swithe,* *quickly<br/> +And bring us bread and wine full privily:<br/> +And two of us shall keepe subtilly<br/> +This treasure well: and if he will not tarry,<br/> +When it is night, we will this treasure carry,<br/> +By one assent, where as us thinketh best.”<br/> +Then one of them the cut brought in his fist,<br/> +And bade them draw, and look where it would fall;<br/> +And it fell on the youngest of them all;<br/> +And forth toward the town he went anon.<br/> +And all so soon as that he was y-gone,<br/> +The one of them spake thus unto the other;<br/> +“Thou knowest well that thou art my sworn brother,<br/> +*Thy profit* will I tell thee right anon. *what is for thine<br/> +Thou knowest well that our fellow is gone, advantage*<br/> +And here is gold, and that full great plenty,<br/> +That shall departed* he among us three. *divided<br/> +But natheless, if I could shape* it so *contrive<br/> +That it departed were among us two,<br/> +Had I not done a friende’s turn to thee?”<br/> +Th’ other answer’d, “I n’ot* how that may be; *know not<br/> +He knows well that the gold is with us tway.<br/> +What shall we do? what shall we to him say?”<br/> +“Shall it be counsel?”* said the firste shrew;** *secret **wretch<br/> +“And I shall tell to thee in wordes few<br/> +What we shall do, and bring it well about.”<br/> +“I grante,” quoth the other, “out of doubt,<br/> +That by my truth I will thee not bewray.”* *betray<br/> +“Now,” quoth the first, “thou know’st well we be tway,<br/> +And two of us shall stronger be than one.<br/> +Look; when that he is set,* thou right anon *sat down<br/> +Arise, as though thou wouldest with him play;<br/> +And I shall rive* him through the sides tway, *stab<br/> +While that thou strugglest with him as in game;<br/> +And with thy dagger look thou do the same.<br/> +And then shall all this gold departed* be, *divided<br/> +My deare friend, betwixte thee and me:<br/> +Then may we both our lustes* all fulfil, *pleasures<br/> +And play at dice right at our owen will.”<br/> +And thus accorded* be these shrewes** tway *agreed **wretches<br/> +To slay the third, as ye have heard me say. +</p> + +<p> +The youngest, which that wente to the town,<br/> +Full oft in heart he rolled up and down<br/> +The beauty of these florins new and bright.<br/> +“O Lord!” quoth he, “if so were that I might<br/> +Have all this treasure to myself alone,<br/> +There is no man that lives under the throne<br/> +Of God, that shoulde have so merry as I.”<br/> +And at the last the fiend our enemy<br/> +Put in his thought, that he should poison buy,<br/> +With which he mighte slay his fellows twy.* *two<br/> +For why, the fiend found him *in such living,* *leading such a<br/> +That he had leave to sorrow him to bring. (bad) life*<br/> +For this was utterly his full intent<br/> +To slay them both, and never to repent.<br/> +And forth he went, no longer would he tarry,<br/> +Into the town to an apothecary,<br/> +And prayed him that he him woulde sell<br/> +Some poison, that he might *his rattes quell,* *kill his rats*<br/> +And eke there was a polecat in his haw,* *farm-yard, hedge <27><br/> +That, as he said, his eapons had y-slaw:* *slain<br/> +And fain he would him wreak,* if that he might, *revenge<br/> +Of vermin that destroyed him by night.<br/> +Th’apothecary answer’d, “Thou shalt have<br/> +A thing, as wisly* God my soule save, *surely<br/> +In all this world there is no creature<br/> +That eat or drank hath of this confecture,<br/> +Not but the mountance* of a corn of wheat, *amount<br/> +That he shall not his life *anon forlete;* *immediately lay down*<br/> +Yea, sterve* he shall, and that in lesse while *die<br/> +Than thou wilt go *apace* nought but a mile: *quickly*<br/> +This poison is so strong and violent.”<br/> +This cursed man hath in his hand y-hent* *taken<br/> +This poison in a box, and swift he ran<br/> +Into the nexte street, unto a man,<br/> +And borrow’d of him large bottles three;<br/> +And in the two the poison poured he;<br/> +The third he kepte clean for his own drink,<br/> +For all the night he shope him* for to swink** *purposed **labour<br/> +In carrying off the gold out of that place.<br/> +And when this riotour, with sorry grace,<br/> +Had fill’d with wine his greate bottles three, +</p> + +<p> +To his fellows again repaired he.<br/> +What needeth it thereof to sermon* more? *talk, discourse<br/> +For, right as they had cast* his death before, *plotted<br/> +Right so they have him slain, and that anon.<br/> +And when that this was done, thus spake the one;<br/> +“Now let us sit and drink, and make us merry,<br/> +And afterward we will his body bury.”<br/> +And with that word it happen’d him *par cas* *by chance<br/> +To take the bottle where the poison was,<br/> +And drank, and gave his fellow drink also,<br/> +For which anon they sterved* both the two. *died<br/> +But certes I suppose that Avicen<br/> +Wrote never in no canon, nor no fen, <28><br/> +More wondrous signes of empoisoning,<br/> +Than had these wretches two ere their ending.<br/> +Thus ended be these homicides two,<br/> +And eke the false empoisoner also. +</p> + +<p> +O cursed sin, full of all cursedness!<br/> +O trait’rous homicide! O wickedness!<br/> +O glutt’ny, luxury, and hazardry!<br/> +Thou blasphemer of Christ with villany,* *outrage, impiety<br/> +And oathes great, of usage and of pride!<br/> +Alas! mankinde, how may it betide,<br/> +That to thy Creator, which that thee wrought,<br/> +And with his precious hearte-blood thee bought,<br/> +Thou art so false and so unkind,* alas! *unnatural<br/> +Now, good men, God forgive you your trespass,<br/> +And ware* you from the sin of avarice. *keep<br/> +Mine holy pardon may you all warice,* *heal<br/> +So that ye offer *nobles or sterlings,* *gold or silver coins*<br/> +Or elles silver brooches, spoons, or rings.<br/> +Bowe your head under this holy bull.<br/> +Come up, ye wives, and offer of your will;<br/> +Your names I enter in my roll anon;<br/> +Into the bliss of heaven shall ye gon;<br/> +I you assoil* by mine high powere, *absolve <29><br/> +You that will offer, as clean and eke as clear<br/> +As ye were born. Lo, Sires, thus I preach;<br/> +And Jesus Christ, that is our soules’ leech,* *healer<br/> +So grante you his pardon to receive;<br/> +For that is best, I will not deceive. +</p> + +<p> +But, Sirs, one word forgot I in my tale;<br/> +I have relics and pardon in my mail,<br/> +As fair as any man in Engleland,<br/> +Which were me given by the Pope’s hand.<br/> +If any of you will of devotion<br/> +Offer, and have mine absolution,<br/> +Come forth anon, and kneele here adown<br/> +And meekely receive my pardoun.<br/> +Or elles take pardon, as ye wend,* *go<br/> +All new and fresh at every towne’s end,<br/> +So that ye offer, always new and new,<br/> +Nobles or pence which that be good and true.<br/> +’Tis an honour to evereach* that is here, *each one<br/> +That ye have a suffisant* pardonere *suitable<br/> +T’assoile* you in country as ye ride, *absolve<br/> +For aventures which that may betide.<br/> +Paraventure there may fall one or two<br/> +Down of his horse, and break his neck in two.<br/> +Look, what a surety is it to you all,<br/> +That I am in your fellowship y-fall,<br/> +That may assoil* you bothe *more and lass,* *absolve<br/> +When that the soul shall from the body pass. *great and small*<br/> +I rede* that our Hoste shall begin, *advise<br/> +For he is most enveloped in sin.<br/> +Come forth, Sir Host, and offer first anon,<br/> +And thou shalt kiss; the relics every one,<br/> +Yea, for a groat; unbuckle anon thy purse. +</p> + +<p> +“Nay, nay,” quoth he, “then have I Christe’s curse!<br/> +Let be,” quoth he, “it shall not be, *so the’ch.* *so may I thrive*<br/> +Thou wouldest make me kiss thine olde breech,<br/> +And swear it were a relic of a saint,<br/> +Though it were with thy *fundament depaint’.* *stained by your bottom*<br/> +But, by the cross which that Saint Helen fand,* *found <30><br/> +I would I had thy coilons* in mine hand, *testicles<br/> +Instead of relics, or of sanctuary.<br/> +Let cut them off, I will thee help them carry;<br/> +They shall be shrined in a hogge’s turd.”<br/> +The Pardoner answered not one word;<br/> +So wroth he was, no worde would he say. +</p> + +<p> +“Now,” quoth our Host, “I will no longer play<br/> +With thee, nor with none other angry man.”<br/> +But right anon the worthy Knight began<br/> +(When that he saw that all the people lough*), *laughed<br/> +“No more of this, for it is right enough.<br/> +Sir Pardoner, be merry and glad of cheer;<br/> +And ye, Sir Host, that be to me so dear,<br/> +I pray you that ye kiss the Pardoner;<br/> +And, Pardoner, I pray thee draw thee ner,* *nearer<br/> +And as we didde, let us laugh and play.”<br/> +Anon they kiss’d, and rode forth their way. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Pardoner’s Tale +</p> + +<p> +1. The outline of this Tale is to be found in the “Cento Novelle +Antiche,” but the original is now lost. As in the case of the Wife +of Bath’s Tale, there is a long prologue, but in this case it has +been treated as part of the Tale. +</p> + +<p> +2. Hautein: loud, lofty; from French, “hautain.” +</p> + +<p> +3. Radix malorum est cupiditas: “the love of money is the root +of all evil” (1 Tim.vi. 10) +</p> + +<p> +4.All had she taken priestes two or three: even if she had +committed adultery with two or three priests. +</p> + +<p> +5. Blackburied: The meaning of this is not very clear, but it is +probably a periphrastic and picturesque way of indicating +damnation. +</p> + +<p> +6. Grisly: dreadful; fitted to “agrise” or horrify the listener. +</p> + +<p> +7. Mr Wright says: “The common oaths in the Middle Ages +were by the different parts of God’s body; and the popular +preachers represented that profane swearers tore Christ’s body +by their imprecations.” The idea was doubtless borrowed from +the passage in Hebrews (vi. 6), where apostates are said to +“crucify to themselves the Son of God afresh, and put Him to +an open shame.” +</p> + +<p> +8. Tombesteres: female dancers or tumblers; from Anglo- +Saxon, “tumban,” to dance. +</p> + +<p> +9. “Be not drunk with wine, wherein is excess.” Eph. v.18. +</p> + +<p> +10. The reference is probably to the diligent inquiries Herod +made at the time of Christ’s birth. See Matt. ii. 4-8 +</p> + +<p> +11. A drunkard. “Perhaps,” says Tyrwhitt, “Chaucer refers to +Epist. LXXXIII., ‘Extende in plures dies illum ebrii habitum; +nunquid de furore dubitabis? nunc quoque non est minor sed +brevior.’” (“Prolong the drunkard’s condition to several days; +will you doubt his madness? Even as it is, the madness is no +less; merely shorter.”) +</p> + +<p> +12. Defended: forbidden; French, “defendu.” St Jerome, in his +book against Jovinian, says that so long as Adam fasted, he was +in Paradise; he ate, and he was thrust out. +</p> + +<p> +13. “Meats for the belly, and the belly for meats; but God shall +destroy both it and them.” 1 Cor. vi. 13. +</p> + +<p> +14. “For many walk, of whom I have told you often, and now +tell you even weeping, that they are the enemies of the cross of +Christ: Whose end is destruction, whose God is their belly, and +whose glory is in their shame, who mind earthly things.” Phil. +iii. 18, 19. +</p> + +<p> +15. Cod: bag; Anglo-Saxon, “codde;” hence peas-cod, pin-cod +(pin-cushion), &c. +</p> + +<p> +16. Compare with the lines which follow, the picture of the +drunken messenger in the Man of Law’s Tale. +</p> + +<p> +17. Lepe: A town near Cadiz, whence a stronger wine than the +Gascon vintages afforded was imported to England. French +wine was often adulterated with the cheaper and stronger +Spanish. +</p> + +<p> +18. Another reading is “Fleet Street.” +</p> + +<p> +19. Attila was suffocated in the night by a haemorrhage, +brought on by a debauch, when he was preparing a new +invasion of Italy, in 453. +</p> + +<p> +20. “It is not for kings, O Lemuel, it is not for kings to drink +wine, nor for princes strong drink; lest they drink, and forget +the law, and pervert the judgment of any of the afflicted.” Prov. +xxxi. 4, 5. +</p> + +<p> +21. Most manuscripts, evidently in error, have “Stilbon” and +“Calidone” for Chilon and Lacedaemon. Chilon was one of the +seven sages of Greece, and flourished about B.C. 590. +According to Diogenes Laertius, he died, under the pressure of +age and joy, in the arms of his son, who had just been crowned +victor at the Olympic games. +</p> + +<p> +22. “Swear not at all;” Christ’s words in Matt. v. 34. +</p> + +<p> +23. “And thou shalt swear, the lord liveth in truth, in judgement, +and in righteousness.” Jeremiah iv. 2 +</p> + +<p> +24. The nails that fastened Christ on the cross, which were +regarded with superstitious reverence. +</p> + +<p> +25. Hailes: An abbey in Gloucestershire, where, under the +designation of “the blood of Hailes,” a portion of Christ’s blood +was preserved. +</p> + +<p> +26. Go bet: a hunting phrase; apparently its force is, “go beat up +the game.” +</p> + +<p> +27. Haw; farm-yard, hedge Compare the French, “haie.” +</p> + +<p> +28. Avicen, or Avicenna, was among the distinguished +physicians of the Arabian school in the eleventh century, and +very popular in the Middle Ages. His great work was called +“Canon Medicinae,” and was divided into “fens,” “fennes,” or +sections. +</p> + +<p> +29. Assoil: absolve. compare the Scotch law-term “assoilzie,” +to acquit. +</p> + +<p> +30. Saint Helen, according to Sir John Mandeville, found the +cross of Christ deep below ground, under a rock, where the +Jews had hidden it; and she tested the genuineness of the sacred +tree, by raising to life a dead man laid upon it. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap19"></a>THE SHIPMAN’S TALE.<1></h2> + +<h3>THE PROLOGUE</h3> + +<p> +Our Host upon his stirrups stood anon,<br/> +And saide; “Good men, hearken every one,<br/> +This was a thrifty* tale for the nones. *discreet, profitable<br/> +Sir Parish Priest,” quoth he, “for Godde’s bones,<br/> +Tell us a tale, as was thy *forword yore:* *promise formerly*<br/> +I see well that ye learned men in lore<br/> +Can* muche good, by Godde’s dignity.” *know<br/> +The Parson him answer’d, “Ben’dicite!<br/> +What ails the man, so sinfully to swear?”<br/> +Our Host answer’d, “O Jankin, be ye there?<br/> +Now, good men,” quoth our Host, “hearken to me.<br/> +I smell a Lollard <2> in the wind,” quoth he.<br/> +“Abide, for Godde’s digne* passion, *worthy<br/> +For we shall have a predication:<br/> +This Lollard here will preachen us somewhat.”<br/> +“Nay, by my father’s soul, that shall he not,<br/> +Saide the Shipman; “Here shall he not preach,<br/> +He shall no gospel glose* here nor teach. *comment upon<br/> +We all believe in the great God,” quoth he.<br/> +“He woulde sowe some difficulty,<br/> +Or springe cockle <3> in our cleane corn.<br/> +And therefore, Host, I warne thee beforn,<br/> +My jolly body shall a tale tell,<br/> +And I shall clinke you so merry a bell,<br/> +That I shall waken all this company;<br/> +But it shall not be of philosophy,<br/> +Nor of physic, nor termes quaint of law;<br/> +There is but little Latin in my maw.”* *belly +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Prologue to the Shipman’s Tale +</p> + +<p> +1. The Prologue here given was transferred by Tyrwhitt from +the place, preceding the Squire’s Tale, which it had formerly +occupied; the Shipman’s Tale having no Prologue in the best +manuscripts. +</p> + +<p> +2. Lollard: A contemptuous name for the followers of +Wyckliffe; presumably derived from the Latin, “lolium,” tares, +as if they were the tares among the Lord’s wheat; so, a few lines +below, the Shipman intimates his fear lest the Parson should +“spring cockle in our clean corn.” +</p> + +<p> +3. Cockle: A weed, the “Agrostemma githago” of Linnaeus; +perhaps named from the Anglo-Saxon, “ceocan,” because it +chokes the corn. +(Transcriber’s note: It is also possible Chaucer had in mind +Matthew 13:25, where in some translations, an enemy sowed +“cockle” amongst the wheat. (Other translations have “tares” +and “darnel”.)) +</p> + +<h3>THE TALE. <1></h3> + +<p> +A Merchant whilom dwell’d at Saint Denise,<br/> +That riche was, for which men held him wise.<br/> +A wife he had of excellent beauty,<br/> +And *companiable and revellous* was she, *fond of society and<br/> +Which is a thing that causeth more dispence merry making*<br/> +Than worth is all the cheer and reverence<br/> +That men them do at feastes and at dances.<br/> +Such salutations and countenances<br/> +Passen, as doth the shadow on the wall;<br/> +Put woe is him that paye must for all.<br/> +The sely* husband algate** he must pay, *innocent **always<br/> +He must us <2> clothe and he must us array<br/> +All for his owen worship richely:<br/> +In which array we dance jollily.<br/> +And if that he may not, paraventure,<br/> +Or elles list not such dispence endure,<br/> +But thinketh it is wasted and y-lost,<br/> +Then must another paye for our cost,<br/> +Or lend us gold, and that is perilous. +</p> + +<p> +This noble merchant held a noble house;<br/> +For which he had all day so great repair,* *resort of visitors<br/> +For his largesse, and for his wife was fair,<br/> +That wonder is; but hearken to my tale.<br/> +Amonges all these guestes great and smale,<br/> +There was a monk, a fair man and a bold,<br/> +I trow a thirty winter he was old,<br/> +That ever-in-one* was drawing to that place. *constantly<br/> +This younge monk, that was so fair of face,<br/> +Acquainted was so with this goode man,<br/> +Since that their firste knowledge began,<br/> +That in his house as familiar was he<br/> +As it is possible any friend to be.<br/> +And, for as muchel as this goode man,<br/> +And eke this monk of which that I began,<br/> +Were both the two y-born in one village,<br/> +The monk *him claimed, as for cousinage,* *claimed kindred<br/> +And he again him said not once nay, with him*<br/> +But was as glad thereof as fowl of day;<br/> +“For to his heart it was a great pleasance.<br/> +Thus be they knit with etern’ alliance,<br/> +And each of them gan other to assure<br/> +Of brotherhood while that their life may dure.<br/> +Free was Dan <3> John, and namely* of dispence,** *especially **spending<br/> +As in that house, and full of diligence<br/> +To do pleasance, and also *great costage;* *liberal outlay*<br/> +He not forgot to give the leaste page<br/> +In all that house; but, after their degree,<br/> +He gave the lord, and sithen* his meinie,** *afterwards **servants<br/> +When that he came, some manner honest thing;<br/> +For which they were as glad of his coming<br/> +As fowl is fain when that the sun upriseth.<br/> +No more of this as now, for it sufficeth. +</p> + +<p> +But so befell, this merchant on a day<br/> +Shope* him to make ready his array *resolved, arranged<br/> +Toward the town of Bruges <4> for to fare,<br/> +To buye there a portion of ware;* *merchandise<br/> +For which he hath to Paris sent anon<br/> +A messenger, and prayed hath Dan John<br/> +That he should come to Saint Denis, and play* *enjoy himself<br/> +With him, and with his wife, a day or tway,<br/> +Ere he to Bruges went, in alle wise.<br/> +This noble monk, of which I you devise,* *tell<br/> +Had of his abbot, as him list, licence,<br/> +(Because he was a man of high prudence,<br/> +And eke an officer out for to ride,<br/> +To see their granges and their barnes wide); <5><br/> +And unto Saint Denis he came anon.<br/> +Who was so welcome as my lord Dan John,<br/> +Our deare cousin, full of courtesy?<br/> +With him he brought a jub* of malvesie, *jug<br/> +And eke another full of fine vernage, <6><br/> +And volatile,* as aye was his usage: *wild-fowl<br/> +And thus I let them eat, and drink, and play,<br/> +This merchant and this monk, a day or tway.<br/> +The thirde day the merchant up ariseth,<br/> +And on his needeis sadly him adviseth;<br/> +And up into his countour-house* went he, *counting-house <7><br/> +To reckon with himself as well may be,<br/> +Of thilke* year, how that it with him stood, *that<br/> +And how that he dispended bad his good,<br/> +And if that he increased were or non.<br/> +His bookes and his bagges many a one<br/> +He laid before him on his counting-board.<br/> +Full riche was his treasure and his hoard;<br/> +For which full fast his countour door he shet;<br/> +And eke he would that no man should him let* *hinder<br/> +Of his accountes, for the meane time:<br/> +And thus he sat, till it was passed prime. +</p> + +<p> +Dan John was risen in the morn also,<br/> +And in the garden walked to and fro,<br/> +And had his thinges said full courteously.<br/> +The good wife came walking full privily<br/> +Into the garden, where he walked soft,<br/> +And him saluted, as she had done oft;<br/> +A maiden child came in her company,<br/> +Which as her list she might govern and gie,* *guide<br/> +For yet under the yarde* was the maid. *rod <8><br/> +“O deare cousin mine, Dan John,” she said,<br/> +“What aileth you so rath* for to arise?” *early<br/> +“Niece,” quoth he, “it ought enough suffice<br/> +Five houres for to sleep upon a night;’<br/> +But* it were for an old appalled** wight, *unless **pallid, wasted<br/> +As be these wedded men, that lie and dare,* *stare<br/> +As in a forme sits a weary hare,<br/> +Alle forstraught* with houndes great and smale; *distracted, confounded<br/> +But, deare niece, why be ye so pale?<br/> +I trowe certes that our goode man<br/> +Hath you so laboured, since this night began,<br/> +That you were need to reste hastily.”<br/> +And with that word he laugh’d full merrily,<br/> +And of his owen thought he wax’d all red.<br/> +This faire wife gan for to shake her head,<br/> +And saide thus; “Yea, God wot all” quoth she.<br/> +“Nay, cousin mine, it stands not so with me;<br/> +For by that God, that gave me soul and life,<br/> +In all the realm of France is there no wife<br/> +That lesse lust hath to that sorry play;<br/> +For I may sing alas and well-away!<br/> +That I was born; but to no wight,” quoth she,<br/> +“Dare I not tell how that it stands with me.<br/> +Wherefore I think out of this land to wend,<br/> +Or elles of myself to make an end,<br/> +So full am I of dread and eke of care.” +</p> + +<p> +This monk began upon this wife to stare,<br/> +And said, “Alas! my niece, God forbid<br/> +That ye for any sorrow, or any dread,<br/> +Fordo* yourself: but telle me your grief, *destroy<br/> +Paraventure I may, in your mischief,* *distress<br/> +Counsel or help; and therefore telle me<br/> +All your annoy, for it shall be secre.<br/> +For on my portos* here I make an oath, *breviary<br/> +That never in my life, *for lief nor loth,* *willing or unwilling*<br/> +Ne shall I of no counsel you bewray.”<br/> +“The same again to you,” quoth she, “I say.<br/> +By God and by this portos I you swear,<br/> +Though men me woulden all in pieces tear,<br/> +Ne shall I never, for* to go to hell, *though I should<br/> +Bewray* one word of thing that ye me tell, *betray<br/> +For no cousinage, nor alliance,<br/> +But verily for love and affiance.”* *confidence, promise<br/> +Thus be they sworn, and thereupon they kiss’d,<br/> +And each of them told other what them list.<br/> +“Cousin,” quoth she, “if that I hadde space,<br/> +As I have none, and namely* in this place, *specially<br/> +Then would I tell a legend of my life,<br/> +What I have suffer’d since I was a wife<br/> +With mine husband, all* be he your cousin. *although<br/> +“Nay,” quoth this monk, “by God and Saint Martin,<br/> +He is no more cousin unto me,<br/> +Than is the leaf that hangeth on the tree;<br/> +I call him so, by Saint Denis of France,<br/> +To have the more cause of acquaintance<br/> +Of you, which I have loved specially<br/> +Aboven alle women sickerly,* *surely<br/> +This swear I you *on my professioun;* *by my vows of religion<br/> +Tell me your grief, lest that he come adown,<br/> +And hasten you, and go away anon.” +</p> + +<p> +“My deare love,” quoth she, “O my Dan John,<br/> +Full lief* were me this counsel for to hide, *pleasant<br/> +But out it must, I may no more abide.<br/> +My husband is to me the worste man<br/> +That ever was since that the world began;<br/> +But since I am a wife, it sits* not me *becomes<br/> +To telle no wight of our privity,<br/> +Neither in bed, nor in none other place;<br/> +God shield* I shoulde tell it for his grace; *forbid<br/> +A wife shall not say of her husband<br/> +But all honour, as I can understand;<br/> +Save unto you thus much I telle shall;<br/> +As help me God, he is nought worth at all<br/> +In no degree, the value of a fly.<br/> +But yet me grieveth most his niggardy.* *stinginess<br/> +And well ye wot, that women naturally<br/> +Desire thinges six, as well as I.<br/> +They woulde that their husbands shoulde be<br/> +Hardy,* and wise, and rich, and thereto free, *brave<br/> +And buxom* to his wife, and fresh in bed. *yielding, obedient<br/> +But, by that ilke* Lord that for us bled, *same<br/> +For his honour myself for to array,<br/> +On Sunday next I muste needes pay<br/> +A hundred francs, or elles am I lorn.* *ruined, undone<br/> +Yet *were me lever* that I were unborn, *I would rather*<br/> +Than me were done slander or villainy.<br/> +And if mine husband eke might it espy,<br/> +I were but lost; and therefore I you pray,<br/> +Lend me this sum, or elles must I dey.* *die<br/> +Dan John, I say, lend me these hundred francs;<br/> +Pardie, I will not faile you, *my thanks,* *if I can help it*<br/> +If that you list to do that I you pray;<br/> +For at a certain day I will you pay,<br/> +And do to you what pleasance and service<br/> +That I may do, right as you list devise.<br/> +And but* I do, God take on me vengeance, *unless<br/> +As foul as e’er had Ganilion <9> of France.” +</p> + +<p> +This gentle monk answer’d in this mannere;<br/> +“Now truely, mine owen lady dear,<br/> +I have,” quoth he, “on you so greate ruth,* *pity<br/> +That I you swear, and plighte you my truth,<br/> +That when your husband is to Flanders fare,* *gone<br/> +I will deliver you out of this care,<br/> +For I will bringe you a hundred francs.”<br/> +And with that word he caught her by the flanks,<br/> +And her embraced hard, and kissed her oft.<br/> +“Go now your way,” quoth he, “all still and soft,<br/> +And let us dine as soon as that ye may,<br/> +For by my cylinder* ’tis prime of day; *portable sundial<br/> +Go now, and be as true as I shall be .”<br/> +“Now elles God forbidde, Sir,” quoth she;<br/> +And forth she went, as jolly as a pie,<br/> +And bade the cookes that they should them hie,* *make haste<br/> +So that men mighte dine, and that anon.<br/> +Up to her husband is this wife gone,<br/> +And knocked at his contour boldely.<br/> +*“Qui est la?”* quoth he. “Peter! it am I,” *who is there?*<br/> +Quoth she; “What, Sir, how longe all will ye fast?<br/> +How longe time will ye reckon and cast<br/> +Your summes, and your bookes, and your things?<br/> +The devil have part of all such reckonings!<br/> +Ye have enough, pardie, of Godde’s sond.* *sending, gifts<br/> +Come down to-day, and let your bagges stond.* *stand<br/> +Ne be ye not ashamed, that Dan John<br/> +Shall fasting all this day elenge* gon? *see note <10><br/> +What? let us hear a mass, and go we dine.”<br/> +“Wife,” quoth this man, “little canst thou divine<br/> +The curious businesse that we have;<br/> +For of us chapmen,* all so God me save, *merchants<br/> +And by that lord that cleped is Saint Ive,<br/> +Scarcely amonges twenty, ten shall thrive<br/> +Continually, lasting unto our age.<br/> +We may well make cheer and good visage,<br/> +And drive forth the world as it may be,<br/> +And keepen our estate in privity,<br/> +Till we be dead, or elles that we play<br/> +A pilgrimage, or go out of the way.<br/> +And therefore have I great necessity<br/> +Upon this quaint* world to advise** me. *strange **consider<br/> +For evermore must we stand in dread<br/> +Of hap and fortune in our chapmanhead.* *trading<br/> +To Flanders will I go to-morrow at day,<br/> +And come again as soon as e’er I may:<br/> +For which, my deare wife, I thee beseek *beseech<br/> +As be to every wight buxom* and meek, *civil, courteous<br/> +And for to keep our good be curious,<br/> +And honestly governe well our house.<br/> +Thou hast enough, in every manner wise,<br/> +That to a thrifty household may suffice.<br/> +Thee lacketh none array, nor no vitail;<br/> +Of silver in thy purse thou shalt not fail.” +</p> + +<p> +And with that word his contour door he shet,* *shut<br/> +And down he went; no longer would he let;* *delay, hinder<br/> +And hastily a mass was there said,<br/> +And speedily the tables were laid,<br/> +And to the dinner faste they them sped,<br/> +And richely this monk the chapman fed.<br/> +And after dinner Dan John soberly<br/> +This chapman took apart, and privily<br/> +He said him thus: “Cousin, it standeth so,<br/> +That, well I see, to Bruges ye will go;<br/> +God and Saint Austin speede you and guide.<br/> +I pray you, cousin, wisely that ye ride:<br/> +Governe you also of your diet<br/> +Attemperly,* and namely** in this heat. *moderately<br/> +Betwixt us two needeth no *strange fare;* *ado, ceremony*<br/> +Farewell, cousin, God shielde you from care.<br/> +If any thing there be, by day or night,<br/> +If it lie in my power and my might,<br/> +That ye me will command in any wise,<br/> +It shall be done, right as ye will devise.<br/> +But one thing ere ye go, if it may be;<br/> +I woulde pray you for to lend to me<br/> +A hundred frankes, for a week or twy,<br/> +For certain beastes that I muste buy,<br/> +To store with a place that is ours<br/> +(God help me so, I would that it were yours);<br/> +I shall not faile surely of my day,<br/> +Not for a thousand francs, a mile way.<br/> +But let this thing be secret, I you pray;<br/> +For yet to-night these beastes must I buy.<br/> +And fare now well, mine owen cousin dear;<br/> +*Grand mercy* of your cost and of your cheer.” *great thanks* +</p> + +<p> +This noble merchant gentilly* anon *like a gentleman<br/> +Answer’d and said, “O cousin mine, Dan John,<br/> +Now sickerly this is a small request:<br/> +My gold is youres, when that it you lest,<br/> +And not only my gold, but my chaffare;* *merchandise<br/> +Take what you list, *God shielde that ye spare.* *God forbid that you<br/> +But one thing is, ye know it well enow should take too little*<br/> +Of chapmen, that their money is their plough.<br/> +We may creance* while we have a name, *obtain credit<br/> +But goldless for to be it is no game.<br/> +Pay it again when it lies in your ease;<br/> +After my might full fain would I you please.” +</p> + +<p> +These hundred frankes set he forth anon,<br/> +And privily he took them to Dan John;<br/> +No wight in all this world wist of this loan,<br/> +Saving the merchant and Dan John alone.<br/> +They drink, and speak, and roam a while, and play,<br/> +Till that Dan John rode unto his abbay.<br/> +The morrow came, and forth this merchant rideth<br/> +To Flanders-ward, his prentice well him guideth,<br/> +Till he came unto Bruges merrily.<br/> +Now went this merchant fast and busily<br/> +About his need, and buyed and creanced;* *got credit<br/> +He neither played at the dice, nor danced;<br/> +But as a merchant, shortly for to tell,<br/> +He led his life; and there I let him dwell. +</p> + +<p> +The Sunday next* the merchant was y-gone, *after<br/> +To Saint Denis y-comen is Dan John,<br/> +With crown and beard all fresh and newly shave,<br/> +In all the house was not so little a knave,* *servant-boy<br/> +Nor no wight elles that was not full fain<br/> +For that my lord Dan John was come again.<br/> +And shortly to the point right for to gon,<br/> +The faire wife accorded with Dan John,<br/> +That for these hundred francs he should all night<br/> +Have her in his armes bolt upright;<br/> +And this accord performed was in deed.<br/> +In mirth all night a busy life they lead,<br/> +Till it was day, that Dan John went his way,<br/> +And bade the meinie* “Farewell; have good day.” *servants<br/> +For none of them, nor no wight in the town,<br/> +Had of Dan John right no suspicioun;<br/> +And forth he rode home to his abbay,<br/> +Or where him list; no more of him I say. +</p> + +<p> +The merchant, when that ended was the fair,<br/> +To Saint Denis he gan for to repair,<br/> +And with his wife he made feast and cheer,<br/> +And tolde her that chaffare* was so dear, *merchandise<br/> +That needes must he make a chevisance;* *loan <11><br/> +For he was bound in a recognisance<br/> +To paye twenty thousand shields* anon. *crowns, ecus<br/> +For which this merchant is to Paris gone,<br/> +To borrow of certain friendes that he had<br/> +A certain francs, and some with him he lad.* *took<br/> +And when that he was come into the town,<br/> +For great cherte* and great affectioun *love<br/> +Unto Dan John he wente first to play;<br/> +Not for to borrow of him no money,<br/> +Bat for to weet* and see of his welfare, *know<br/> +And for to telle him of his chaffare,<br/> +As friendes do, when they be met in fere.* *company<br/> +Dan John him made feast and merry cheer;<br/> +And he him told again full specially,<br/> +How he had well y-bought and graciously<br/> +(Thanked be God) all whole his merchandise;<br/> +Save that he must, in alle manner wise,<br/> +Maken a chevisance, as for his best;<br/> +And then he shoulde be in joy and rest.<br/> +Dan John answered, “Certes, I am fain* *glad<br/> +That ye in health be come borne again:<br/> +And if that I were rich, as have I bliss,<br/> +Of twenty thousand shields should ye not miss,<br/> +For ye so kindely the other day<br/> +Lente me gold, and as I can and may<br/> +I thanke you, by God and by Saint Jame.<br/> +But natheless I took unto our Dame,<br/> +Your wife at home, the same gold again,<br/> +Upon your bench; she wot it well, certain,<br/> +By certain tokens that I can her tell<br/> +Now, by your leave, I may no longer dwell;<br/> +Our abbot will out of this town anon,<br/> +And in his company I muste gon.<br/> +Greet well our Dame, mine owen niece sweet,<br/> +And farewell, deare cousin, till we meet. +</p> + +<p> +This merchant, which that was full ware and wise,<br/> +*Creanced hath,* and paid eke in Paris *had obtained credit*<br/> +To certain Lombards ready in their hond<br/> +The sum of gold, and got of them his bond,<br/> +And home he went, merry as a popinjay.* *parrot<br/> +For well he knew he stood in such array<br/> +That needes must he win in that voyage<br/> +A thousand francs, above all his costage.* *expenses<br/> +His wife full ready met him at the gate,<br/> +As she was wont of old usage algate* *always<br/> +And all that night in mirthe they beset;* *spent<br/> +For he was rich, and clearly out of debt.<br/> +When it was day, the merchant gan embrace<br/> +His wife all new, and kiss’d her in her face,<br/> +And up he went, and maked it full tough. +</p> + +<p> +“No more,” quoth she, “by God ye have enough;”<br/> +And wantonly again with him she play’d,<br/> +Till at the last this merchant to her said.<br/> +“By God,” quoth he, “I am a little wroth<br/> +With you, my wife, although it be me loth;<br/> +And wot ye why? by God, as that I guess,<br/> +That ye have made a *manner strangeness* *a kind of estrangement*<br/> +Betwixte me and my cousin, Dan John.<br/> +Ye should have warned me, ere I had gone,<br/> +That he you had a hundred frankes paid<br/> +By ready token; he *had him evil apaid* *was displeased*<br/> +For that I to him spake of chevisance,* *borrowing<br/> +(He seemed so as by his countenance);<br/> +But natheless, by God of heaven king,<br/> +I thoughte not to ask of him no thing.<br/> +I pray thee, wife, do thou no more so.<br/> +Tell me alway, ere that I from thee go,<br/> +If any debtor hath in mine absence<br/> +Y-payed thee, lest through thy negligence<br/> +I might him ask a thing that he hath paid.” +</p> + +<p> +This wife was not afeared nor afraid,<br/> +But boldely she said, and that anon;<br/> +“Mary! I defy that false monk Dan John,<br/> +I keep* not of his tokens never a deal:** *care **whit<br/> +He took me certain gold, I wot it well. —<br/> +What? evil thedom* on his monke’s snout! — *thriving<br/> +For, God it wot, I ween’d withoute doubt<br/> +That he had given it me, because of you,<br/> +To do therewith mine honour and my prow,* *profit<br/> +For cousinage, and eke for belle cheer<br/> +That he hath had full often here.<br/> +But since I see I stand in such disjoint,* *awkward position<br/> +I will answer you shortly to the point.<br/> +Ye have more slacke debtors than am I;<br/> +For I will pay you well and readily,<br/> +From day to day, and if so be I fail,<br/> +I am your wife, score it upon my tail,<br/> +And I shall pay as soon as ever I may.<br/> +For, by my troth, I have on mine array,<br/> +And not in waste, bestow’d it every deal.<br/> +And, for I have bestowed it so well,<br/> +For your honour, for Godde’s sake I say,<br/> +As be not wroth, but let us laugh and play.<br/> +Ye shall my jolly body have *to wed;* *in pledge*<br/> +By God, I will not pay you but in bed;<br/> +Forgive it me, mine owen spouse dear;<br/> +Turn hitherward, and make better cheer.” +</p> + +<p> +The merchant saw none other remedy;<br/> +And for to chide, it were but a folly,<br/> +Since that the thing might not amended be.<br/> +“Now, wife,” he said, “and I forgive it thee;<br/> +But by thy life be no more so large;* *liberal, lavish<br/> +Keep better my good, this give I thee in charge.”<br/> +Thus endeth now my tale; and God us send<br/> +Taling enough, until our lives’ end! +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Shipman’s Tale +</p> + +<p> +1. In this Tale Chaucer seems to have followed an old French +story, which also formed the groundwork of the first story in +the eighth day of the “Decameron.” +</p> + +<p> +2. “He must us clothe”: So in all the manuscripts and from this +and the following lines, it must be inferred that Chaucer had +intended to put the Tale in the mouth of a female speaker. +</p> + +<p> +3. Dan: a title bestowed on priests and scholars; from +“Dominus,” like the Spanish “Don”. +</p> + +<p> +4. Bruges was in Chaucer’s time the great emporium of +European commerce. +</p> + +<p> +5. The monk had been appointed by his abbot to inspect and +manage the rural property of the monastery. +</p> + +<p> +6. Malvesie or Malmesy wine derived its name from Malvasia, a +region of the Morea near Cape Malea, where it was made, as it +also was on Chios and some other Greek islands. Vernage was +“vernaccia”, a sweet Italian wine. +</p> + +<p> + 7. Contour-house: counting-house; French, “comptoir.” +</p> + +<p> +8. Under the yarde: under the rod; in pupillage; a phrase +properly used of children, but employed by the Clerk in the +prologue to his tale. See note 1 to the Prologue to the Clerk’s +Tale. +</p> + +<p> +9. Genelon, Ganelon, or Ganilion; one of Charlemagne’s +officers, whose treachery was the cause of the disastrous defeat +of the Christians by the Saracens at Roncevalles; he was torn to +pieces by four horses. +</p> + +<p> +10. Elenge: From French, “eloigner,” to remove; it may mean +either the lonely, cheerless condition of the priest, or the strange +behaviour of the merchant in leaving him to himself. +</p> + +<p> +11. Make a chevisance: raise money by means of a borrowing +agreement; from French, “achever,” to finish; the general +meaning of the word is a bargain, an agreement. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap20"></a>THE PRIORESS’S TALE.</h2> + +<h3>THE PROLOGUE.</h3> + +<p> +“WELL said, by *corpus Domini,”* quoth our Host; *the Lord’s body*<br/> +“Now longe may’st thou saile by the coast,<br/> +Thou gentle Master, gentle Marinere.<br/> +God give the monk *a thousand last quad year!* *ever so much evil* <1><br/> +Aha! fellows, beware of such a jape.* *trick<br/> +The monk *put in the manne’s hood an ape,* *fooled him*<br/> +And in his wife’s eke, by Saint Austin.<br/> +Drawe no monkes more into your inn.<br/> +But now pass over, and let us seek about,<br/> +Who shall now telle first of all this rout<br/> +Another tale;” and with that word he said,<br/> +As courteously as it had been a maid;<br/> +“My Lady Prioresse, by your leave,<br/> +So that I wist I shoulde you not grieve,* *offend<br/> +I woulde deeme* that ye telle should *judge, decide<br/> +A tale next, if so were that ye would.<br/> +Now will ye vouchesafe, my lady dear?”<br/> +“Gladly,” quoth she; and said as ye shall hear. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Prologue to the Prioress’s Tale. +</p> + +<p> +1. A thousand last quad year: ever so much evil. “Last” means +a load, “quad,” bad; and literally we may read “a thousand +weight of bad years.” The Italians use “mal anno” in the same +sense. +</p> + +<h3>THE TALE. <1></h3> + +<p> +O Lord our Lord! thy name how marvellous<br/> +Is in this large world y-spread! <2> (quoth she)<br/> +For not only thy laude* precious *praise<br/> +Performed is by men of high degree,<br/> +But by the mouth of children thy bounte* *goodness<br/> +Performed is, for on the breast sucking<br/> +Sometimes showe they thy herying.* <3> *glory +</p> + +<p> +Wherefore in laud, as I best can or may<br/> +Of thee, and of the white lily flow’r<br/> +Which that thee bare, and is a maid alway,<br/> +To tell a story I will do my labour;<br/> +Not that I may increase her honour,<br/> +For she herselven is honour and root<br/> +Of bounte, next her son, and soules’ boot.* *help +</p> + +<p> +O mother maid, O maid and mother free!* *bounteous<br/> +O bush unburnt, burning in Moses’ sight,<br/> +That ravished’st down from the deity,<br/> +Through thy humbless, the ghost that in thee light; <4><br/> +Of whose virtue, when he thine hearte light,* *lightened, gladdened<br/> +Conceived was the Father’s sapience;<br/> +Help me to tell it to thy reverence. +</p> + +<p> +Lady! thy bounty, thy magnificence,<br/> +Thy virtue, and thy great humility,<br/> +There may no tongue express in no science:<br/> +For sometimes, Lady! ere men pray to thee,<br/> +Thou go’st before, of thy benignity,<br/> +And gettest us the light, through thy prayere,<br/> +To guiden us unto thy son so dear. +</p> + +<p> +My conning* is so weak, O blissful queen, *skill, ability<br/> +For to declare thy great worthiness,<br/> +That I not may the weight of it sustene;<br/> +But as a child of twelvemonth old, or less,<br/> +That can unnethes* any word express, *scarcely<br/> +Right so fare I; and therefore, I you pray,<br/> +Guide my song that I shall of you say. +</p> + +<p> +There was in Asia, in a great city,<br/> +Amonges Christian folk, a Jewery,<5><br/> +Sustained by a lord of that country,<br/> +For foul usure, and lucre of villainy,<br/> +Hateful to Christ, and to his company;<br/> +And through the street men mighte ride and wend,* *go, walk<br/> +For it was free, and open at each end. +</p> + +<p> +A little school of Christian folk there stood<br/> +Down at the farther end, in which there were<br/> +Children an heap y-come of Christian blood,<br/> +That learned in that schoole year by year<br/> +Such manner doctrine as men used there;<br/> +This is to say, to singen and to read,<br/> +As smalle children do in their childhead. +</p> + +<p> +Among these children was a widow’s son,<br/> +A little clergion,* seven year of age, *young clerk or scholar<br/> +That day by day to scholay* was his won,** *study **wont<br/> +And eke also, whereso he saw th’ image<br/> +Of Christe’s mother, had he in usage,<br/> +As him was taught, to kneel adown, and say<br/> +Ave Maria as he went by the way. +</p> + +<p> +Thus had this widow her little son y-taught<br/> +Our blissful Lady, Christe’s mother dear,<br/> +To worship aye, and he forgot it not;<br/> +For sely* child will always soone lear.** *innocent **learn<br/> +But aye when I remember on this mattere,<br/> +Saint Nicholas <6> stands ever in my presence;<br/> +For he so young to Christ did reverence. +</p> + +<p> +This little child his little book learning,<br/> +As he sat in the school at his primere,<br/> +He Alma redemptoris <7> hearde sing,<br/> +As children learned their antiphonere; <8><br/> +And as he durst, he drew him nere and nere,* *nearer<br/> +And hearken’d aye the wordes and the note,<br/> +Till he the firste verse knew all by rote. +</p> + +<p> +Nought wist he what this Latin was tosay,* *meant<br/> +For he so young and tender was of age;<br/> +But on a day his fellow gan he pray<br/> +To expound him this song in his language,<br/> +Or tell him why this song was in usage:<br/> +This pray’d he him to construe and declare,<br/> +Full oftentime upon his knees bare. +</p> + +<p> +His fellow, which that elder was than he,<br/> +Answer’d him thus: “This song, I have heard say,<br/> +Was maked of our blissful Lady free,<br/> +Her to salute, and eke her to pray<br/> +To be our help and succour when we dey.* *die<br/> +I can no more expound in this mattere:<br/> +I learne song, I know but small grammere.” +</p> + +<p> +“And is this song y-made in reverence<br/> +Of Christe’s mother?” said this innocent;<br/> +Now certes I will do my diligence<br/> +To conne* it all, ere Christemas be went; *learn; con<br/> +Though that I for my primer shall be shent,* *disgraced<br/> +And shall be beaten thries in an hour,<br/> +I will it conne, our Lady to honour.” +</p> + +<p> +His fellow taught him homeward* privily *on the way home<br/> +From day to day, till he coud* it by rote, *knew<br/> +And then he sang it well and boldely<br/> +From word to word according with the note;<br/> +Twice in a day it passed through his throat;<br/> +To schoole-ward, and homeward when he went;<br/> +On Christ’s mother was set all his intent. +</p> + +<p> +As I have said, throughout the Jewery,<br/> +This little child, as he came to and fro,<br/> +Full merrily then would he sing and cry,<br/> +O Alma redemptoris, evermo’;<br/> +The sweetness hath his hearte pierced so<br/> +Of Christe’s mother, that to her to pray<br/> +He cannot stint* of singing by the way. *cease +</p> + +<p> +Our firste foe, the serpent Satanas,<br/> +That hath in Jewes’ heart his waspe’s nest,<br/> +Upswell’d and said, “O Hebrew people, alas!<br/> +Is this to you a thing that is honest,* *creditable, becoming<br/> +That such a boy shall walken as him lest<br/> +In your despite, and sing of such sentence,<br/> +Which is against your lawe’s reverence?” +</p> + +<p> +From thenceforth the Jewes have conspired<br/> +This innocent out of the world to chase;<br/> +A homicide thereto have they hired,<br/> +That in an alley had a privy place,<br/> +And, as the child gan forth by for to pace,<br/> +This cursed Jew him hent,* and held him fast *seized<br/> +And cut his throat, and in a pit him cast. +</p> + +<p> +I say that in a wardrobe* he him threw, *privy<br/> +Where as the Jewes purged their entrail.<br/> +O cursed folk! O Herodes all new!<br/> +What may your evil intente you avail?<br/> +Murder will out, certain it will not fail,<br/> +And namely* where th’ honour of God shall spread; *especially<br/> +The blood out crieth on your cursed deed. +</p> + +<p> +O martyr souded* to virginity, *confirmed <9><br/> +Now may’st thou sing, and follow ever-in-one* *continually<br/> +The white Lamb celestial (quoth she),<br/> +Of which the great Evangelist Saint John<br/> +In Patmos wrote, which saith that they that gon<br/> +Before this Lamb, and sing a song all new,<br/> +That never fleshly woman they ne knew.<10> +</p> + +<p> +This poore widow waited all that night<br/> +After her little child, but he came not;<br/> +For which, as soon as it was daye’s light,<br/> +With face pale, in dread and busy thought,<br/> +She hath at school and elleswhere him sought,<br/> +Till finally she gan so far espy,<br/> +That he was last seen in the Jewery. +</p> + +<p> +With mother’s pity in her breast enclosed,<br/> +She went, as she were half out of her mind,<br/> +To every place, where she hath supposed<br/> +By likelihood her little child to find:<br/> +And ever on Christ’s mother meek and kind<br/> +She cried, and at the laste thus she wrought,<br/> +Among the cursed Jewes she him sought. +</p> + +<p> +She freined,* and she prayed piteously *asked* <11><br/> +To every Jew that dwelled in that place,<br/> +To tell her, if her childe went thereby;<br/> +They saide, “Nay;” but Jesus of his grace<br/> +Gave in her thought, within a little space,<br/> +That in that place after her son she cried,<br/> +Where he was cast into a pit beside. +</p> + +<p> +O greate God, that preformest thy laud<br/> +By mouth of innocents, lo here thy might!<br/> +This gem of chastity, this emeraud,* *emerald<br/> +And eke of martyrdom the ruby bright,<br/> +Where he with throat y-carven* lay upright, *cut<br/> +He Alma Redemptoris gan to sing<br/> +So loud, that all the place began to ring. +</p> + +<p> +The Christian folk, that through the streete went,<br/> +In came, for to wonder on this thing:<br/> +And hastily they for the provost sent.<br/> +He came anon withoute tarrying,<br/> +And heried* Christ, that is of heaven king, *praised<br/> +And eke his mother, honour of mankind;<br/> +And after that the Jewes let* he bind. *caused +</p> + +<p> +With torment, and with shameful death each one<br/> +The provost did* these Jewes for to sterve** *caused **die<br/> +That of this murder wist, and that anon;<br/> +He woulde no such cursedness observe* *overlook<br/> +Evil shall have that evil will deserve;<br/> +Therefore with horses wild he did them draw,<br/> +And after that he hung them by the law. +</p> + +<p> +The child, with piteous lamentation,<br/> +Was taken up, singing his song alway:<br/> +And with honour and great procession,<br/> +They crry him unto the next abbay.<br/> +His mother swooning by the biere lay;<br/> +Unnethes* might the people that were there *scarcely<br/> +This newe Rachel bringe from his bier. +</p> + +<p> +Upon his biere lay this innocent<br/> +Before the altar while the masses last’;* *lasted<br/> +And, after that, th’ abbot with his convent<br/> +Have sped them for to bury him full fast;<br/> +And when they holy water on him cast,<br/> +Yet spake this child, when sprinkled was the water,<br/> +And sang, O Alma redemptoris mater! +</p> + +<p> +This abbot, which that was a holy man,<br/> +As monkes be, or elles ought to be,<br/> +This younger child to conjure he began,<br/> +And said; “O deare child! I halse* thee, *implore <12><br/> +In virtue of the holy Trinity;<br/> +Tell me what is thy cause for to sing,<br/> +Since that thy throat is cut, to my seeming.” +</p> + +<p> +“My throat is cut unto my necke-bone,”<br/> +Saide this child, “and, as *by way of kind,* *in course of nature*<br/> +I should have died, yea long time agone;<br/> +But Jesus Christ, as ye in bookes find,<br/> +Will that his glory last and be in mind;<br/> +And, for the worship* of his mother dear, *glory<br/> +Yet may I sing O Alma loud and clear. +</p> + +<p> +“This well* of mercy, Christe’s mother sweet, *fountain<br/> +I loved alway, after my conning:* *knowledge<br/> +And when that I my life should forlete,* *leave<br/> +To me she came, and bade me for to sing<br/> +This anthem verily in my dying,<br/> +As ye have heard; and, when that I had sung,<br/> +Me thought she laid a grain upon my tongue. +</p> + +<p> +“Wherefore I sing, and sing I must certain,<br/> +In honour of that blissful maiden free,<br/> +Till from my tongue off taken is the grain.<br/> +And after that thus saide she to me;<br/> +‘My little child, then will I fetche thee,<br/> +When that the grain is from thy tongue take:<br/> +Be not aghast,* I will thee not forsake.’” *afraid +</p> + +<p> +This holy monk, this abbot him mean I,<br/> +His tongue out caught, and took away the grain;<br/> +And he gave up the ghost full softely.<br/> +And when this abbot had this wonder seen,<br/> +His salte teares trickled down as rain:<br/> +And groff* he fell all flat upon the ground, *prostrate, grovelling<br/> +And still he lay, as he had been y-bound. +</p> + +<p> +The convent* lay eke on the pavement *all the monks<br/> +Weeping, and herying* Christ’s mother dear. *praising<br/> +And after that they rose, and forth they went,<br/> +And took away this martyr from his bier,<br/> +And in a tomb of marble stones clear<br/> +Enclosed they his little body sweet;<br/> +Where he is now, God lene* us for to meet. *grant +</p> + +<p> +O younge Hugh of Lincoln!<13> slain also<br/> +With cursed Jewes, — as it is notable,<br/> +For it is but a little while ago, —<br/> +Pray eke for us, we sinful folk unstable,<br/> +That, of his mercy, God so merciable* *merciful<br/> +On us his greate mercy multiply,<br/> +For reverence of his mother Mary. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Prioress’s Tale +</p> + +<p> +1. Tales of the murder of children by Jews were frequent in the +Middle Ages, being probably designed to keep up the bitter +feeling of the Christians against the Jews. Not a few children +were canonised on this account; and the scene of the misdeeds +was laid anywhere and everywhere, so that Chaucer could be at +no loss for material. +</p> + +<p> +2. This is from Psalm viii. 1, “Domine, dominus noster,quam +admirabile est nomen tuum in universa terra.” +</p> + +<p> +3. “Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings hast Thou +ordained strength.” — Psalms viii. 2. +</p> + +<p> +4. The ghost that in thee light: the spirit that on thee alighted; +the Holy Ghost through whose power Christ was conceived. +</p> + +<p> +5. Jewery: A quarter which the Jews were permitted to inhabit; +the Old Jewry in London got its name in this way. +</p> + +<p> +6. St. Nicholas, even in his swaddling clothes — so says the +“Breviarium Romanum” —gave promise of extraordinary virtue +and holiness; for, though he sucked freely on other days, on +Wednesdays and Fridays he applied to the breast only once, and +that not until the evening. +</p> + +<p> +7. “O Alma Redemptoris Mater,” (“O soul mother of the +Redeemer”) — the beginning of a hymn to the Virgin. +</p> + +<p> +8. Antiphonere: A book of anthems, or psalms, chanted in the +choir by alternate verses. +</p> + +<p> +9. Souded; confirmed; from French, “soulde;” Latin, “solidatus.” +</p> + +<p> +10. “And they sung as it were a new song before the throne, and +before the four beasts, and the elders: and no man could learn +that song but the hundred and forty and four thousand, which +were redeemed from the earth. +These are they which were not defiled with women; for they are +virgins. These are they which follow the Lamb whithersoever he +goeth. These were redeemed from among men, being the +firstfruits unto God and to the Lamb.” +— Revelations xiv. 3, 4. +</p> + +<p> +11. Freined: asked, inquired; from Anglo-Saxon, “frinan,” +“fraegnian.” Compare German, “fragen.” +</p> + +<p> +12. Halse: embrace or salute; implore: from Anglo-Saxon +“hals,” the neck. +</p> + +<p> +14 A boy said to have been slain by the Jews at Lincoln in 1255, +according to Matthew Paris. Many popular ballads were made +about the event, which the diligence of the Church doubtless +kept fresh in mind at Chaucer’s day. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap21"></a>CHAUCER’S TALE OF SIR THOPAS.</h2> + +<h3>THE PROLOGUE.<1></h3> + +<p> +WHEN said was this miracle, every man<br/> +As sober* was, that wonder was to see, *serious<br/> +Till that our Host to japen* he began, *talk lightly<br/> +And then *at erst* he looked upon me, *for the first time*<br/> +And saide thus; “What man art thou?” quoth he;<br/> +“Thou lookest as thou wouldest find an hare,<br/> +For ever on the ground I see thee stare. +</p> + +<p> +“Approache near, and look up merrily.<br/> +Now ware you, Sirs, and let this man have place.<br/> +He in the waist is shapen as well as I; <2><br/> +This were a puppet in an arm t’embrace<br/> +For any woman small and fair of face.<br/> +He seemeth elvish* by his countenance, *surly, morose<br/> +For unto no wight doth he dalliance. +</p> + +<p> +“Say now somewhat, since other folk have said;<br/> +Tell us a tale of mirth, and that anon.”<br/> +“Hoste,” quoth I, “be not evil apaid,* *dissatisfied<br/> +For other tale certes can* I none, *know<br/> +Eut of a rhyme I learned yore* agone.” *long<br/> +“Yea, that is good,” quoth he; “now shall we hear<br/> +Some dainty thing, me thinketh by thy cheer.”* *expression, mien +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Prologue to Chaucer’s Tale of Sir Thopas +</p> + +<p> +1. This prologue is interesting, for the picture which it gives of +Chaucer himself; riding apart from and indifferent to the rest of +the pilgrims, with eyes fixed on the ground, and an “elvish”, +morose, or rather self-absorbed air; portly, if not actually stout, +in body; and evidently a man out of the common, as the closing +words of the Host imply. +</p> + +<p> +2. Referring to the poet’s corpulency. +</p> + +<h3>THE TALE <1></h3> + +<p> +The First Fit* *part +</p> + +<p> +Listen, lordings, in good intent,<br/> +And I will tell you verrament* *truly<br/> +Of mirth and of solas,* *delight, solace<br/> +All of a knight was fair and gent,* *gentle<br/> +In battle and in tournament,<br/> +His name was Sir Thopas. +</p> + +<p> +Y-born he was in far country,<br/> +In Flanders, all beyond the sea,<br/> +At Popering <2> in the place;<br/> +His father was a man full free,<br/> +And lord he was of that country,<br/> +As it was Godde’s grace. <3> +</p> + +<p> +Sir Thopas was a doughty swain,<br/> +White was his face as paindemain, <4><br/> +His lippes red as rose.<br/> +His rode* is like scarlet in grain, *complexion<br/> +And I you tell in good certain<br/> +He had a seemly nose. +</p> + +<p> +His hair, his beard, was like saffroun,<br/> +That to his girdle reach’d adown,<br/> +His shoes of cordewane:<5><br/> +Of Bruges were his hosen brown;<br/> +His robe was of ciclatoun,<6><br/> +That coste many a jane.<7> +</p> + +<p> +He coulde hunt at the wild deer,<br/> +And ride on hawking *for rivere* *by the river*<br/> +With gray goshawk on hand: <8><br/> +Thereto he was a good archere,<br/> +Of wrestling was there none his peer,<br/> +Where any ram <9> should stand. +</p> + +<p> +Full many a maiden bright in bow’r<br/> +They mourned for him par amour,<br/> +When them were better sleep;<br/> +But he was chaste, and no lechour,<br/> +And sweet as is the bramble flow’r<br/> +That beareth the red heep.* *hip +</p> + +<p> +And so it fell upon a day,<br/> +For sooth as I you telle may,<br/> +Sir Thopas would out ride;<br/> +He worth* upon his steede gray, *mounted<br/> +And in his hand a launcegay,* *spear <10><br/> +A long sword by his side. +</p> + +<p> +He pricked through a fair forest,<br/> +Wherein is many a wilde beast,<br/> +Yea, bothe buck and hare;<br/> +And as he pricked north and east,<br/> +I tell it you, him had almest *almost<br/> +Betid* a sorry care. *befallen +</p> + +<p> +There sprange herbes great and small,<br/> +The liquorice and the setewall,* *valerian<br/> +And many a clove-gilofre, <12><br/> +And nutemeg to put in ale,<br/> +Whether it be moist* or stale, *new<br/> +Or for to lay in coffer. +</p> + +<p> +The birdes sang, it is no nay,<br/> +The sperhawk* and the popinjay,** *sparrowhawk **parrot <13><br/> +That joy it was to hear;<br/> +The throstle-cock made eke his lay,<br/> +The woode-dove upon the spray<br/> +She sang full loud and clear. +</p> + +<p> +Sir Thopas fell in love-longing<br/> +All when he heard the throstle sing,<br/> +And *prick’d as he were wood;* *rode as if he<br/> +His faire steed in his pricking were mad*<br/> +So sweated, that men might him wring,<br/> +His sides were all blood. +</p> + +<p> +Sir Thopas eke so weary was<br/> +For pricking on the softe grass,<br/> +So fierce was his corage,* *inclination, spirit<br/> +That down he laid him in that place,<br/> +To make his steed some solace,<br/> +And gave him good forage. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, Saint Mary, ben’dicite,<br/> +What aileth thilke* love at me *this<br/> +To binde me so sore?<br/> +Me dreamed all this night, pardie,<br/> +An elf-queen shall my leman* be, *mistress<br/> +And sleep under my gore.* *shirt +</p> + +<p> +An elf-queen will I love, y-wis,* *assuredly<br/> +For in this world no woman is<br/> +Worthy to be my make* *mate<br/> +In town;<br/> +All other women I forsake,<br/> +And to an elf-queen I me take<br/> +By dale and eke by down.” <14> +</p> + +<p> +Into his saddle he clomb anon,<br/> +And pricked over stile and stone<br/> +An elf-queen for to spy,<br/> +Till he so long had ridden and gone,<br/> +That he found in a privy wonne* *haunt<br/> +The country of Faery,<br/> +So wild;<br/> +For in that country was there none<br/> +That to him durste ride or gon,<br/> +Neither wife nor child. +</p> + +<p> +Till that there came a great giaunt,<br/> +His name was Sir Oliphaunt,<15><br/> +A perilous man of deed;<br/> +He saide, “Child,* by Termagaunt, <16> *young man<br/> +*But if* thou prick out of mine haunt, *unless<br/> +Anon I slay thy steed<br/> +With mace.<br/> +Here is the Queen of Faery,<br/> +With harp, and pipe, and symphony,<br/> +Dwelling in this place.” +</p> + +<p> +The Child said, “All so may I the,* *thrive<br/> +To-morrow will I meete thee,<br/> +When I have mine armor;<br/> +And yet I hope, *par ma fay,* *by my faith*<br/> +That thou shalt with this launcegay<br/> +Abyen* it full sore; *suffer for<br/> +Thy maw* *belly<br/> +Shall I pierce, if I may,<br/> +Ere it be fully prime of day,<br/> +For here thou shalt be slaw.”* *slain +</p> + +<p> +Sir Thopas drew aback full fast;<br/> +This giant at him stones cast<br/> +Out of a fell staff sling:<br/> +But fair escaped Child Thopas,<br/> +And all it was through Godde’s grace,<br/> +And through his fair bearing. <17> +</p> + +<p> +Yet listen, lordings, to my tale,<br/> +Merrier than the nightingale,<br/> +For now I will you rown,* *whisper<br/> +How Sir Thopas, with sides smale,* *small <18><br/> +Pricking over hill and dale,<br/> +Is come again to town. +</p> + +<p> +His merry men commanded he<br/> +To make him both game and glee;<br/> +For needes must he fight<br/> +With a giant with heades three,<br/> +For paramour and jollity<br/> +Of one that shone full bright. +</p> + +<p> +“*Do come,*” he saide, “my minstrales *summon*<br/> +And gestours* for to telle tales. *story-tellers<br/> +Anon in mine arming,<br/> +Of romances that be royales, <19><br/> +Of popes and of cardinales,<br/> +And eke of love-longing.” +</p> + +<p> +They fetch’d him first the sweete wine,<br/> +And mead eke in a maseline,* *drinking-bowl<br/> +And royal spicery; of maple wood <20><br/> +Of ginger-bread that was full fine,<br/> +And liquorice and eke cumin,<br/> +With sugar that is trie.* *refined +</p> + +<p> +He didde,* next his white lere,** *put on **skin<br/> +Of cloth of lake* fine and clear, *fine linen<br/> +A breech and eke a shirt;<br/> +And next his shirt an haketon,* *cassock<br/> +And over that an habergeon,* *coat of mail<br/> +For piercing of his heart; +</p> + +<p> +And over that a fine hauberk,* *plate-armour<br/> +Was all y-wrought of Jewes’* werk, *magicians’<br/> +Full strong it was of plate;<br/> +And over that his coat-armour,* *knight’s surcoat<br/> +As white as is the lily flow’r, <21><br/> +In which he would debate.* *fight +</p> + +<p> +His shield was all of gold so red<br/> +And therein was a boare’s head,<br/> +A charboucle* beside; *carbuncle <22><br/> +And there he swore on ale and bread,<br/> +How that the giant should be dead,<br/> +Betide whatso betide. +</p> + +<p> +His jambeaux* were of cuirbouly, <23> *boots<br/> +His sworde’s sheath of ivory,<br/> +His helm of latoun* bright, *brass<br/> +His saddle was of rewel <24> bone,<br/> +His bridle as the sunne shone,<br/> +Or as the moonelight. +</p> + +<p> +His speare was of fine cypress,<br/> +That bodeth war, and nothing peace;<br/> +The head full sharp y-ground.<br/> +His steede was all dapple gray,<br/> +It went an amble in the way<br/> +Full softely and round<br/> +In land. +</p> + +<p> +Lo, Lordes mine, here is a fytt;<br/> +If ye will any more of it,<br/> +To tell it will I fand.* *try +</p> + +<p> +The Second Fit +</p> + +<p> +Now hold your mouth for charity,<br/> +Bothe knight and lady free,<br/> +And hearken to my spell;* *tale <25><br/> +Of battle and of chivalry,<br/> +Of ladies’ love and druerie,* *gallantry<br/> +Anon I will you tell. +</p> + +<p> +Men speak of romances of price* * worth, esteem<br/> +Of Horn Child, and of Ipotis,<br/> +Of Bevis, and Sir Guy, <26><br/> +Of Sir Libeux, <27> and Pleindamour,<br/> +But Sir Thopas, he bears the flow’r<br/> +Of royal chivalry. +</p> + +<p> +His goode steed he all bestrode,<br/> +And forth upon his way he glode,* *shone<br/> +As sparkle out of brand;* *torch<br/> +Upon his crest he bare a tow’r,<br/> +And therein stick’d a lily flow’r; <28><br/> +God shield his corse* from shand!** *body **harm +</p> + +<p> +And, for he was a knight auntrous,* *adventurous<br/> +He woulde sleepen in none house,<br/> +But liggen* in his hood, *lie<br/> +His brighte helm was his wanger,* *pillow <29><br/> +And by him baited* his destrer** *fed **horse <30><br/> +Of herbes fine and good. +</p> + +<p> +Himself drank water of the well,<br/> +As did the knight Sir Percivel, <31><br/> +So worthy under weed;<br/> +Till on a day - . . . +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to Chaucer’s Tale of Sir Thopas +</p> + +<p> +1. “The Rhyme of Sir Thopas,” as it is generally called, is +introduced by Chaucer as a satire on the dull, pompous, and +prolix metrical romances then in vogue. It is full of phrases +taken from the popular rhymesters in the vein which he holds up +to ridicule; if, indeed — though of that there is no evidence — it +be not actually part of an old romance which Chaucer selected +and reproduced to point his assault on the prevailing taste in +literature. +Transcriber’s note: The Tale is full of incongruities of every +kind, which Purves does not refer to; I point some of them out +in the notes which follow - marked TN. +</p> + +<p> +2. Poppering, or Poppeling, a parish in the marches of Calais of +which the famous antiquary Leland was once Rector. TN: The +inhabitants of Popering had a reputation for stupidity. +</p> + +<p> +3. TN: The lord of Popering was the abbot of the local +monastery - who could, of course, have no legitimate children. +</p> + +<p> +4. Paindemain: Either “pain de matin,” morning bread, or “pain +de Maine,” because it was made best in that province; a kind of +fine white bread. +</p> + +<p> +5. Cordewane: Cordovan; fine Spanish leather, so called from +the name of the city where it was prepared +</p> + +<p> +6. Ciclatoun: A rich Oriental stuff of silk and gold, of which was +made the circular robe of state called a “ciclaton,” from the +Latin, “cyclas.” The word is French. +</p> + +<p> +7. Jane: a Genoese coin, of small value; in our old statutes +called “gallihalpens,” or galley half-pence. +</p> + +<p> +8. TN: In Mediaeval falconry the goshawk was not regarded as +a fit bird for a knight. It was the yeoman’s bird. +</p> + +<p> +9. A ram was the usual prize of wrestling contests. TN: +Wrestling and archery were sports of the common people, not +knightly accomplishments. +</p> + +<p> +10. Launcegay: spear; “azagay” is the name of a Moorish +weapon, and the identity of termination is singular. +</p> + +<p> +12. Clove-gilofre: clove-gilliflower; “Caryophyllus hortensis.” +</p> + +<p> +13. TN: The sparrowhawk and parrot can only squawk +unpleasantly. +</p> + +<p> +14. TN: The sudden and pointless changes in the stanza form +are of course part of Chaucer’s parody. +</p> + +<p> +15. Sir Oliphaunt: literally, “Sir Elephant;” Sir John Mandeville +calls those animals “Olyfauntes.” +</p> + +<p> +16. Termagaunt: A pagan or Saracen deity, otherwise named +Tervagan, and often mentioned in Middle Age literature. His +name has passed into our language, to denote a ranter or +blusterer, as be was represented to be. +</p> + +<p> +17. TN: His “fair bearing” would not have been much defence +against a sling-stone. +</p> + +<p> +18. TN: “Sides small”: a conventional description for a woman, +not a man. +</p> + +<p> +19. Romances that be royal: so called because they related to +Charlemagne and his family. +</p> + +<p> +20. TN: A knight would be expected to have a gold or silver +drinking vessel. +</p> + +<p> +21. TN: The coat-armour or coat of arms should have had his +heraldic emblems on it, not been pure white +</p> + +<p> +22. Charboucle: Carbuncle; French, “escarboucle;” a heraldic +device resembling a jewel. +</p> + +<p> +23. Cuirbouly: “Cuir boulli,” French, boiled or prepared +leather; also used to cover shields, &c. +</p> + +<p> +24. Rewel bone: No satisfactory explanation has been furnished +of this word, used to describe some material from which rich +saddles were made. TN: The OED defines it as narwhal ivory. +</p> + +<p> +25. Spell: Tale, discourse, from Anglo-Saxon, “spellian,” to +declare, tell a story. +</p> + +<p> +26. Sir Bevis of Hampton, and Sir Guy of Warwick, two +knights of great renown. +</p> + +<p> +27. Libeux: One of Arthur’s knights, called “Ly beau +desconus,” “the fair unknown.” +</p> + +<p> +28. TN: The crest was a small emblem worn on top of a knight’s +helmet. A tower with a lily stuck in it would have been +unwieldy and absurd. +</p> + +<p> +29. Wanger: pillow; from Anglo-Saxon, “wangere,” because +the “wanges;” or cheeks, rested on it. +</p> + +<p> +30. Destrer: “destrier,” French, a war-horse; in Latin, +“dextrarius,” as if led by the right hand. +</p> + +<p> +31. Sir Percival de Galois, whose adventures were written in +more than 60,000 verses by Chretien de Troyes, one of the +oldest and best French romancers, in 1191. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap22"></a>CHAUCER’S TALE OF MELIBŒUS.</h2> + +<h3>THE PROLOGUE.</h3> + +<p> +“No more of this, for Godde’s dignity!”<br/> +Quoth oure Hoste; “for thou makest me<br/> +So weary of thy very lewedness,* *stupidity, ignorance <1><br/> +That, all so wisly* God my soule bless, *surely<br/> +Mine eares ache for thy drafty* speech. *worthless <2><br/> +Now such a rhyme the devil I beteche:* *commend to<br/> +This may well be rhyme doggerel,” quoth he.<br/> +“Why so?” quoth I; “why wilt thou lette* me *prevent<br/> +More of my tale than any other man,<br/> +Since that it is the best rhyme that I can?”* *know<br/> +“By God!” quoth he, “for, plainly at one word,<br/> +Thy drafty rhyming is not worth a tord:<br/> +Thou dost naught elles but dispendest* time. *wastest<br/> +Sir, at one word, thou shalt no longer rhyme.<br/> +Let see whether thou canst tellen aught *in gest,* *by way of<br/> +Or tell in prose somewhat, at the least, narrative*<br/> +In which there be some mirth or some doctrine.”<br/> +“Gladly,” quoth I, “by Godde’s sweete pine,* *suffering<br/> +I will you tell a little thing in prose,<br/> +That oughte like* you, as I suppose, *please<br/> +Or else certes ye be too dangerous.* *fastidious<br/> +It is a moral tale virtuous,<br/> +*All be it* told sometimes in sundry wise *although it be*<br/> +By sundry folk, as I shall you devise.<br/> +As thus, ye wot that ev’ry Evangelist,<br/> +That telleth us the pain* of Jesus Christ, *passion<br/> +He saith not all thing as his fellow doth;<br/> +But natheless their sentence is all soth,* *true<br/> +And all accorden as in their sentence,* *meaning<br/> +All be there in their telling difference;<br/> +For some of them say more, and some say less,<br/> +When they his piteous passion express;<br/> +I mean of Mark and Matthew, Luke and John;<br/> +But doubteless their sentence is all one.<br/> +Therefore, lordinges all, I you beseech,<br/> +If that ye think I vary in my speech,<br/> +As thus, though that I telle somedeal more<br/> +Of proverbes, than ye have heard before<br/> +Comprehended in this little treatise here,<br/> +*T’enforce with* the effect of my mattere, *with which to<br/> +And though I not the same wordes say enforce*<br/> +As ye have heard, yet to you all I pray<br/> +Blame me not; for as in my sentence<br/> +Shall ye nowhere finde no difference<br/> +From the sentence of thilke* treatise lite,** *this **little<br/> +After the which this merry tale I write.<br/> +And therefore hearken to what I shall say,<br/> +And let me tellen all my tale, I pray.” +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Prologue to Chaucer’s Tale of Melibœus. +</p> + +<p> +1. Chaucer crowns the satire on the romanticists by making the +very landlord of the Tabard cry out in indignant disgust against +the stuff which he had heard recited — the good Host ascribing +to sheer ignorance the string of pompous platitudes and prosaic +details which Chaucer had uttered. +</p> + +<p> +2. Drafty: worthless, vile; no better than draff or dregs; from +the Anglo-Saxon, “drifan” to drive away, expel. +</p> + +<h3>THE TALE.<1></h3> + +<p> +A young man called Melibœus, mighty and rich, begat upon his +wife, that called was Prudence, a daughter which that called was +Sophia. Upon a day befell, that he for his disport went into the +fields him to play. His wife and eke his daughter hath he left +within his house, of which the doors were fast shut. Three of his +old foes have it espied, and set ladders to the walls of his house, +and by the windows be entered, and beaten his wife, and +wounded his daughter with five mortal wounds, in five sundry +places; that is to say, in her feet, in her hands, in her ears, in her +nose, and in her mouth; and left her for dead, and went away. +When Melibœus returned was into his house, and saw all this +mischief, he, like a man mad, rending his clothes, gan weep and +cry. Prudence his wife, as farforth as she durst, besought him of +his weeping for to stint: but not forthy [notwithstanding] he gan +to weep and cry ever longer the more. +</p> + +<p> +This noble wife Prudence remembered her upon the sentence of +Ovid, in his book that called is the “Remedy of Love,” <2> +where he saith: He is a fool that disturbeth the mother to weep +in the death of her child, till she have wept her fill, as for a +certain time; and then shall a man do his diligence with amiable +words her to recomfort and pray her of her weeping for to stint +[cease]. For which reason this noble wife Prudence suffered her +husband for to weep and cry, as for a certain space; and when +she saw her time, she said to him in this wise: “Alas! my lord,” +quoth she, “why make ye yourself for to be like a fool? For +sooth it appertaineth not to a wise man to make such a sorrow. +Your daughter, with the grace of God, shall warish [be cured] +and escape. And all [although] were it so that she right now +were dead, ye ought not for her death yourself to destroy. +Seneca saith, ‘The wise man shall not take too great discomfort +for the death of his children, but certes he should suffer it in +patience, as well as he abideth the death of his own proper +person.’” +</p> + +<p> +Melibœus answered anon and said: “What man,” quoth he, +“should of his weeping stint, that hath so great a cause to weep? +Jesus Christ, our Lord, himself wept for the death of Lazarus +his friend.” Prudence answered, “Certes, well I wot, +attempered [moderate] weeping is nothing defended [forbidden] +to him that sorrowful is, among folk in sorrow but it is rather +granted him to weep. The Apostle Paul unto the Romans +writeth, ‘Man shall rejoice with them that make joy, and weep +with such folk as weep.’ But though temperate weeping be +granted, outrageous weeping certes is defended. Measure of +weeping should be conserved, after the lore [doctrine] that +teacheth us Seneca. ‘When that thy friend is dead,’ quoth he, ‘let +not thine eyes too moist be of tears, nor too much dry: although +the tears come to thine eyes, let them not fall. And when thou +hast forgone [lost] thy friend, do diligence to get again another +friend: and this is more wisdom than to weep for thy friend +which that thou hast lorn [lost] for therein is no boot +[advantage]. And therefore if ye govern you by sapience, put +away sorrow out of your heart. Remember you that Jesus +Sirach saith, ‘A man that is joyous and glad in heart, it him +conserveth flourishing in his age: but soothly a sorrowful heart +maketh his bones dry.’ He said eke thus, ‘that sorrow in heart +slayth full many a man.’ Solomon saith ‘that right as moths in +the sheep’s fleece annoy [do injury] to the clothes, and the small +worms to the tree, right so annoyeth sorrow to the heart of +man.’ Wherefore us ought as well in the death of our children, +as in the loss of our goods temporal, have patience. Remember +you upon the patient Job, when he had lost his children and his +temporal substance, and in his body endured and received full +many a grievous tribulation, yet said he thus: ‘Our Lord hath +given it to me, our Lord hath bereft it me; right as our Lord +would, right so be it done; blessed be the name of our Lord.”’ +</p> + +<p> +To these foresaid things answered Melibœus unto his wife +Prudence: “All thy words,” quoth he, “be true, and thereto +[also] profitable, but truly mine heart is troubled with this +sorrow so grievously, that I know not what to do.” “Let call,” +quoth Prudence, “thy true friends all, and thy lineage, which be +wise, and tell to them your case, and hearken what they say in +counselling, and govern you after their sentence [opinion]. +Solomon saith, ‘Work all things by counsel, and thou shall never +repent.’” Then, by counsel of his wife Prudence, this Melibœus +let call [sent for] a great congregation of folk, as surgeons, +physicians, old folk and young, and some of his old enemies +reconciled (as by their semblance) to his love and to his grace; +and therewithal there come some of his neighbours, that did him +reverence more for dread than for love, as happeneth oft. There +come also full many subtle flatterers, and wise advocates +learned in the law. And when these folk together assembled +were, this Melibœus in sorrowful wise showed them his case, +and by the manner of his speech it seemed that in heart he bare +a cruel ire, ready to do vengeance upon his foes, and suddenly +desired that the war should begin, but nevertheless yet asked he +their counsel in this matter. A surgeon, by licence and assent of +such as were wise, up rose, and to Melibœus said as ye may +hear. “Sir,” quoth he, “as to us surgeons appertaineth, that we +do to every wight the best that we can, where as we be +withholden, [employed] and to our patient that we do no +damage; wherefore it happeneth many a time and oft, that when +two men have wounded each other, one same surgeon healeth +them both; wherefore unto our art it is not pertinent to nurse +war, nor parties to support [take sides]. But certes, as to the +warishing [healing] of your daughter, albeit so that perilously +she be wounded, we shall do so attentive business from day to +night, that, with the grace of God, she shall be whole and +sound, as soon as is possible.” Almost right in the same wise the +physicians answered, save that they said a few words more: that +right as maladies be cured by their contraries, right so shall man +warish war (by peace). His neighbours full of envy, his feigned +friends that seemed reconciled, and his flatterers, made +semblance of weeping, and impaired and agregged [aggravated] +much of this matter, in praising greatly Melibœus of might, of +power, of riches, and of friends, despising the power of his +adversaries: and said utterly, that he anon should wreak him on +his foes, and begin war. +</p> + +<p> +Up rose then an advocate that was wise, by leave and by +counsel of other that were wise, and said, “Lordings, the need +[business] for which we be assembled in this place, is a full +heavy thing, and an high matter, because of the wrong and of +the wickedness that hath been done, and eke by reason of the +great damages that in time coming be possible to fall for the +same cause, and eke by reason of the great riches and power of +the parties both; for which reasons, it were a full great peril to +err in this matter. Wherefore, Melibœus, this is our sentence +[opinion]; we counsel you, above all things, that right anon thou +do thy diligence in keeping of thy body, in such a wise that thou +want no espy nor watch thy body to save. And after that, we +counsel that in thine house thou set sufficient garrison, so that +they may as well thy body as thy house defend. But, certes, to +move war or suddenly to do vengeance, we may not deem +[judge] in so little time that it were profitable. Wherefore we +ask leisure and space to have deliberation in this case to deem; +for the common proverb saith thus; ‘He that soon deemeth soon +shall repent.’ And eke men say, that that judge is wise, that soon +understandeth a matter, and judgeth by leisure. For albeit so +that all tarrying be annoying, algates [nevertheless] it is no +reproof [subject for reproach] in giving of judgement, nor in +vengeance taking, when it is sufficient and, reasonable. And +that shewed our Lord Jesus Christ by example; for when that +the woman that was taken in adultery was brought in his +presence to know what should be done with her person, albeit +that he wist well himself what he would answer, yet would he +not answer suddenly, but he would have deliberation, and in the +ground he wrote twice. And by these causes we ask deliberation +and we shall then by the grace of God counsel the thing that +shall be profitable.” +</p> + +<p> +Up started then the young folk anon at once, and the most part +of that company have scorned these old wise men and begun to +make noise and said, “Right as while that iron is hot men should +smite, right so men should wreak their wrongs while that they +be fresh and new:” and with loud voice they cried. “War! War!” +Up rose then one of these old wise, and with his hand made +countenance [a sign, gesture] that men should hold them still, +and give him audience. “Lordings,” quoth he, “there is full many +a man that crieth, ‘War! war!’ that wot full little what war +amounteth. War at his beginning hath so great an entering and +so large, that every wight may enter when him liketh, and lightly +[easily] find war: but certes what end shall fall thereof it is not +light to know. For soothly when war is once begun, there is full +many a child unborn of his mother, that shall sterve [die] young +by cause of that war, or else live in sorrow and die in +wretchedness; and therefore, ere that any war be begun, men +must have great counsel and great deliberation.” And when this +old man weened [thought, intended] to enforce his tale by +reasons, well-nigh all at once began they to rise for to break his +tale, and bid him full oft his words abridge. For soothly he that +preacheth to them that list not hear his words, his sermon them +annoyeth. For Jesus Sirach saith, that music in weeping is a +noyous [troublesome] thing. This is to say, as much availeth to +speak before folk to whom his speech annoyeth, as to sing +before him that weepeth. And when this wise man saw that him +wanted audience, all shamefast he sat him down again. For +Solomon saith, ‘Where as thou mayest have no audience, +enforce thee not to speak.’ “I see well,” quoth this wise man, +“that the common proverb is sooth, that good counsel wanteth, +when it is most need.” Yet [besides, further] had this Melibœus +in his council many folk, that privily in his ear counselled him +certain thing, and counselled him the contrary in general +audience. When Melibœus had heard that the greatest part of +his council were accorded [in agreement] that he should make +war, anon he consented to their counselling, and fully affirmed +their sentence [opinion, judgement]. +</p> + +<p> +(Dame Prudence, seeing her husband’s resolution thus taken, in +full humble wise, when she saw her time, begins to counsel him +against war, by a warning against haste in requital of either +good or evil. Melibœus tells her that he will not work by her +counsel, because he should be held a fool if he rejected for her +advice the opinion of so many wise men; because all women are +bad; because it would seem that he had given her the mastery +over him; and because she could not keep his secret, if he +resolved to follow her advice. To these reasons Prudence +answers that it is no folly to change counsel when things, or +men’s judgements of them, change — especially to alter a +resolution taken on the impulse of a great multitude of folk, +where every man crieth and clattereth what him liketh; that if all +women had been wicked, Jesus Christ would never have +descended to be born of a woman, nor have showed himself +first to a woman after his resurrection and that when Solomon +said he had found no good woman, he meant that God alone +was supremely good; <3> that her husband would not seem to +give her the mastery by following her counsel, for he had his +own free choice in following or rejecting it; and that he knew +well and had often tested her great silence, patience, and +secrecy. And whereas he had quoted a saying, that in wicked +counsel women vanquish men, she reminds him that she would +counsel him against doing a wickedness on which he had set his +mind, and cites instances to show that many women have been +and yet are full good, and their counsel wholesome and +profitable. Lastly, she quotes the words of God himself, when +he was about to make woman as an help meet for man; and +promises that, if her husband will trust her counsel, she will +restore to him his daughter whole and sound, and make him +have honour in this case. Melibœus answers that because of his +wife’s sweet words, and also because he has proved and assayed +her great wisdom and her great truth, he will govern him by her +counsel in all things. Thus encouraged, Prudence enters on a +long discourse, full of learned citations, regarding the manner in +which counsellors should be chosen and consulted, and the +times and reasons for changing a counsel. First, God must be +besought for guidance. Then a man must well examine his own +thoughts, of such things as he holds to be best for his own +profit; driving out of his heart anger, covetousness, and +hastiness, which perturb and pervert the judgement. Then he +must keep his counsel secret, unless confiding it to another shall +be more profitable; but, in so confiding it, he shall say nothing +to bias the mind of the counsellor toward flattery or +subserviency. After that he should consider his friends and his +enemies, choosing of the former such as be most faithful and +wise, and eldest and most approved in counselling; and even of +these only a few. Then he must eschew the counselling of fools, +of flatterers, of his old enemies that be reconciled, of servants +who bear him great reverence and fear, of folk that be drunken +and can hide no counsel, of such as counsel one thing privily +and the contrary openly; and of young folk, for their counselling +is not ripe. Then, in examining his counsel, he must truly tell his +tale; he must consider whether the thing he proposes to do be +reasonable, within his power, and acceptable to the more part +and the better part of his counsellors; he must look at the things +that may follow from that counselling, choosing the best and +waiving all besides; he must consider the root whence the +matter of his counsel is engendered, what fruits it may bear, +and from what causes they be sprung. And having thus +examined his counsel and approved it by many wise folk and +old, he shall consider if he may perform it and make of it a good +end; if he be in doubt, he shall choose rather to suffer than to +begin; but otherwise he shall prosecute his resolution steadfastly +till the enterprise be at an end. As to changing his counsel, a +man may do so without reproach, if the cause cease, or when a +new case betides, or if he find that by error or otherwise harm +or damage may result, or if his counsel be dishonest or come of +dishonest cause, or if it be impossible or may not properly be +kept; and he must take it for a general rule, that every counsel +which is affirmed so strongly, that it may not be changed for +any condition that may betide, that counsel is wicked. +Melibœus, admitting that his wife had spoken well and suitably +as to counsellors and counsel in general, prays her to tell him in +especial what she thinks of the counsellors whom they have +chosen in their present need. Prudence replies that his counsel in +this case could not properly be called a counselling, but a +movement of folly; and points out that he has erred in sundry +wise against the rules which he had just laid down. Granting +that he has erred, Melibœus says that he is all ready to change +his counsel right as she will devise; for, as the proverb runs, to +do sin is human, but to persevere long in sin is work of the +Devil. Prudence then minutely recites, analyses, and criticises +the counsel given to her husband in the assembly of his friends. +She commends the advice of the physicians and surgeons, and +urges that they should be well rewarded for their noble speech +and their services in healing Sophia; and she asks Melibœus +how he understands their proposition that one contrary must be +cured by another contrary. Melibœus answers, that he should +do vengeance on his enemies, who had done him wrong. +Prudence, however, insists that vengeance is not the contrary of +vengeance, nor wrong of wrong, but the like; and that +wickedness should be healed by goodness, discord by accord, +war by peace. She proceeds to deal with the counsel of the +lawyers and wise folk that advised Melibœus to take prudent +measures for the security of his body and of his house. First, she +would have her husband pray for the protection and aid of +Christ; then commit the keeping of his person to his true +friends; then suspect and avoid all strange folk, and liars, and +such people as she had already warned him against; then beware +of presuming on his strength, or the weakness of his adversary, +and neglecting to guard his person — for every wise man +dreadeth his enemy; then he should evermore be on the watch +against ambush and all espial, even in what seems a place of +safety; though he should not be so cowardly, as to fear where is +no cause for dread; yet he should dread to be poisoned, and +therefore shun scorners, and fly their words as venom. As to +the fortification of his house, she points out that towers and +great edifices are costly and laborious, yet useless unless +defended by true friends that be old and wise; and the greatest +and strongest garrison that a rich man may have, as well to keep +his person as his goods, is, that he be beloved by his subjects +and by his neighbours. Warmly approving the counsel that in all +this business Melibœus should proceed with great diligence and +deliberation, Prudence goes on to examine the advice given by +his neighbours that do him reverence without love, his old +enemies reconciled, his flatterers that counselled him certain +things privily and openly counselled him the contrary, and the +young folk that counselled him to avenge himself and make war +at once. She reminds him that he stands alone against three +powerful enemies, whose kindred are numerous and close, +while his are fewer and remote in relationship; that only the +judge who has jurisdiction in a case may take sudden vengeance +on any man; that her husband’s power does not accord with his +desire; and that, if he did take vengeance, it would only breed +fresh wrongs and contests. As to the causes of the wrong done +to him, she holds that God, the causer of all things, has +permitted him to suffer because he has drunk so much honey +<4> of sweet temporal riches, and delights, and honours of this +world, that he is drunken, and has forgotten Jesus Christ his +Saviour; the three enemies of mankind, the flesh, the fiend, and +the world, have entered his heart by the windows of his body, +and wounded his soul in five places — that is to say, the deadly +sins that have entered into his heart by the five senses; and in +the same manner Christ has suffered his three enemies to enter +his house by the windows, and wound his daughter in the five +places before specified. Melibœus demurs, that if his wife’s +objections prevailed, vengeance would never be taken, and +thence great mischiefs would arise; but Prudence replies that the +taking of vengeance lies with the judges, to whom the private +individual must have recourse. Melibœus declares that such +vengeance does not please him, and that, as Fortune has +nourished and helped him from his childhood, he will now assay +her, trusting, with God’s help, that she will aid him to avenge his +shame. Prudence warns him against trusting to Fortune, all the +less because she has hitherto favoured him, for just on that +account she is the more likely to fail him; and she calls on him +to leave his vengeance with the Sovereign Judge, that avengeth +all villainies and wrongs. Melibœus argues that if he refrains +from taking vengeance he will invite his enemies to do him +further wrong, and he will be put and held over low; but +Prudence contends that such a result can be brought about only +by the neglect of the judges, not by the patience of the +individual. Supposing that he had leave to avenge himself, she +repeats that he is not strong enough, and quotes the common +saw, that it is madness for a man to strive with a stronger than +himself, peril to strive with one of equal strength, and folly to +strive with a weaker. But, considering his own defaults and +demerits, — remembering the patience of Christ and the +undeserved tribulations of the saints, the brevity of this life with +all its trouble and sorrow, the discredit thrown on the wisdom +and training of a man who cannot bear wrong with patience — +he should refrain wholly from taking vengeance. Melibœus +submits that he is not at all a perfect man, and his heart will +never be at peace until he is avenged; and that as his enemies +disregarded the peril when they attacked him, so he might, +without reproach, incur some peril in attacking them in return, +even though he did a great excess in avenging one wrong by +another. Prudence strongly deprecates all outrage or excess; but +Melibœus insists that he cannot see that it might greatly harm +him though he took a vengeance, for he is richer and mightier +than his enemies, and all things obey money. Prudence +thereupon launches into a long dissertation on the advantages of +riches, the evils of poverty, the means by which wealth should +be gathered, and the manner in which it should be used; and +concludes by counselling her husband not to move war and +battle through trust in his riches, for they suffice not to maintain +war, the battle is not always to the strong or the numerous, and +the perils of conflict are many. Melibœus then curtly asks her +for her counsel how he shall do in this need; and she answers +that certainly she counsels him to agree with his adversaries and +have peace with them. Melibœus on this cries out that plainly +she loves not his honour or his worship, in counselling him to +go and humble himself before his enemies, crying mercy to them +that, having done him so grievous wrong, ask him not to be +reconciled. Then Prudence, making semblance of wrath, retorts +that she loves his honour and profit as she loves her own, and +ever has done; she cites the Scriptures in support of her counsel +to seek peace; and says she will leave him to his own courses, +for she knows well he is so stubborn, that he will do nothing for +her. Melibœus then relents; admits that he is angry and cannot +judge aright; and puts himself wholly in her hands, promising to +do just as she desires, and admitting that he is the more held to +love and praise her, if she reproves him of his folly) +</p> + +<p> +Then Dame Prudence discovered all her counsel and her will +unto him, and said: “I counsel you,” quoth she, “above all +things, that ye make peace between God and you, and be +reconciled unto Him and to his grace; for, as I have said to you +herebefore, God hath suffered you to have this tribulation and +disease [distress, trouble] for your sins; and if ye do as I say +you, God will send your adversaries unto you, and make them +fall at your feet, ready to do your will and your commandment. +For Solomon saith, ‘When the condition of man is pleasant and +liking to God, he changeth the hearts of the man’s adversaries, +and constraineth them to beseech him of peace of grace.’ And I +pray you let me speak with your adversaries in privy place, for +they shall not know it is by your will or your assent; and then, +when I know their will and their intent, I may counsel you the +more surely.” ‘“Dame,” quoth Melibœus, ‘“do your will and +your liking, for I put me wholly in your disposition and +ordinance.” +</p> + +<p> +Then Dame Prudence, when she saw the goodwill of her +husband, deliberated and took advice in herself, thinking how +she might bring this need [affair, emergency] unto a good end. +And when she saw her time, she sent for these adversaries to +come into her into a privy place, and showed wisely into them +the great goods that come of peace, and the great harms and +perils that be in war; and said to them, in goodly manner, how +that they ought have great repentance of the injuries and +wrongs that they had done to Melibœus her Lord, and unto her +and her daughter. And when they heard the goodly words of +Dame Prudence, then they were surprised and ravished, and had +so great joy of her, that wonder was to tell. “Ah lady!” quoth +they, “ye have showed unto us the blessing of sweetness, after +the saying of David the prophet; for the reconciling which we +be not worthy to have in no manner, but we ought require it +with great contrition and humility, ye of your great goodness +have presented unto us. Now see we well, that the science and +conning [knowledge] of Solomon is full true; for he saith, that +sweet words multiply and increase friends, and make shrews +[the ill-natured or angry] to be debonair [gentle, courteous] and +meek. Certes we put our deed, and all our matter and cause, all +wholly in your goodwill, and be ready to obey unto the speech +and commandment of my lord Melibœus. And therefore, dear +and benign lady, we pray you and beseech you as meekly as we +can and may, that it like unto your great goodness to fulfil in +deed your goodly words. For we consider and acknowledge +that we have offended and grieved my lord Melibœus out of +measure, so far forth that we be not of power to make him +amends; and therefore we oblige and bind us and our friends to +do all his will and his commandment. But peradventure he hath +such heaviness and such wrath to usward, [towards us] because +of our offence, that he will enjoin us such a pain [penalty] as we +may not bear nor sustain; and therefore, noble lady, we beseech +to your womanly pity to take such advisement [consideration] +in this need, that we, nor our friends, be not disinherited and +destroyed through our folly.” +</p> + +<p> +“Certes,” quoth Prudence, “it is an hard thing, and right +perilous, that a man put him all utterly in the arbitration and +judgement and in the might and power of his enemy. For +Solomon saith, ‘Believe me, and give credence to that that I +shall say: to thy son, to thy wife, to thy friend, nor to thy +brother, give thou never might nor mastery over thy body, while +thou livest.’ Now, since he defendeth [forbiddeth] that a man +should not give to his brother, nor to his friend, the might of his +body, by a stronger reason he defendeth and forbiddeth a man +to give himself to his enemy. And nevertheless, I counsel you +that ye mistrust not my lord: for I wot well and know verily, +that he is debonair and meek, large, courteous and nothing +desirous nor envious of good nor riches: for there is nothing in +this world that he desireth save only worship and honour. +Furthermore I know well, and am right sure, that he shall +nothing do in this need without counsel of me; and I shall so +work in this case, that by the grace of our Lord God ye shall be +reconciled unto us.” +</p> + +<p> +Then said they with one voice, “Worshipful lady, we put us +and our goods all fully in your will and disposition, and be ready +to come, what day that it like unto your nobleness to limit us or +assign us, for to make our obligation and bond, as strong as it +liketh unto your goodness, that we may fulfil the will of you and +of my lord Melibœus.” +</p> + +<p> +When Dame Prudence had heard the answer of these men, she +bade them go again privily, and she returned to her lord +Melibœus, and told him how she found his adversaries full +repentant, acknowledging full lowly their sins and trespasses, +and how they were ready to suffer all pain, requiring and +praying him of mercy and pity. Then said Melibœus, “He is well +worthy to have pardon and forgiveness of his sin, that excuseth +not his sin, but acknowledgeth, and repenteth him, asking +indulgence. For Seneca saith, ‘There is the remission and +forgiveness, where the confession is; for confession is neighbour +to innocence.’ And therefore I assent and confirm me to have +peace, but it is good that we do naught without the assent and +will of our friends.” Then was Prudence right glad and joyful, +and said, “Certes, Sir, ye be well and goodly advised; for right +as by the counsel, assent, and help of your friends ye have been +stirred to avenge you and make war, right so without their +counsel shall ye not accord you, nor have peace with your +adversaries. For the law saith, ‘There is nothing so good by way +of kind, [nature] as a thing to be unbound by him that it was +bound.’” +</p> + +<p> +And then Dame Prudence, without delay or tarrying, sent anon +her messengers for their kin and for their old friends, which +were true and wise; and told them by order, in the presence of +Melibœus, all this matter, as it is above expressed and declared; +and prayed them that they would give their advice and counsel +what were best to do in this need. And when Melibœus’ friends +had taken their advice and deliberation of the foresaid matter, +and had examined it by great business and great diligence, they +gave full counsel for to have peace and rest, and that Melibœus +should with good heart receive his adversaries to forgiveness +and mercy. And when Dame Prudence had heard the assent of +her lord Melibœus, and the counsel of his friends, accord with +her will and her intention, she was wondrous glad in her heart, +and said: “There is an old proverb that saith, ‘The goodness that +thou mayest do this day, do it, and abide not nor delay it not till +to-morrow:’ and therefore I counsel you that ye send your +messengers, such as be discreet and wise, unto your adversaries, +telling them on your behalf, that if they will treat of peace and +of accord, that they shape [prepare] them, without delay or +tarrying, to come unto us.” Which thing performed was indeed. +And when these trespassers and repenting folk of their follies, +that is to say, the adversaries of Melibœus, had heard what +these messengers said unto them, they were right glad and +joyful, and answered full meekly and benignly, yielding graces +and thanks to their lord Melibœus, and to all his company; and +shaped them without delay to go with the messengers, and obey +to the commandment of their lord Melibœus. And right anon +they took their way to the court of Melibœus, and took with +them some of their true friends, to make faith for them, and for +to be their borrows [sureties]. +</p> + +<p> +And when they were come to the presence of Melibœus, he +said to them these words; “It stands thus,” quoth Melibœus, +“and sooth it is, that ye causeless, and without skill and reason, +have done great injuries and wrongs to me, and to my wife +Prudence, and to my daughter also; for ye have entered into my +house by violence, and have done such outrage, that all men +know well that ye have deserved the death: and therefore will I +know and weet of you, whether ye will put the punishing and +chastising, and the vengeance of this outrage, in the will of me +and of my wife, or ye will not?” Then the wisest of them three +answered for them all, and said; “Sir,” quoth he, “we know well, +that we be I unworthy to come to the court of so great a lord +and so worthy as ye be, for we have so greatly mistaken us, and +have offended and aguilt [incurred guilt] in such wise against +your high lordship, that truly we have deserved the death. But +yet for the great goodness and debonairte [courtesy, gentleness] +that all the world witnesseth of your person, we submit us to +the excellence and benignity of your gracious lordship, and be +ready to obey to all your commandments, beseeching you, that +of your merciable [merciful] pity ye will consider our great +repentance and low submission, and grant us forgiveness of our +outrageous trespass and offence; for well we know, that your +liberal grace and mercy stretch them farther into goodness, than +do our outrageous guilt and trespass into wickedness; albeit that +cursedly [wickedly] and damnably we have aguilt [incurred +guilt] against your high lordship.” Then Melibœus took them +up from the ground full benignly, and received their obligations +and their bonds, by their oaths upon their pledges and borrows, +[sureties] and assigned them a certain day to return unto his +court for to receive and accept sentence and judgement, that +Melibœus would command to be done on them, by the causes +aforesaid; which things ordained, every man returned home to +his house. +</p> + +<p> +And when that Dame Prudence saw her time she freined +[inquired] and asked her lord Melibœus, what vengeance he +thought to take of his adversaries. To which Melibœus +answered, and said; “Certes,” quoth he, “I think and purpose me +fully to disinherit them of all that ever they have, and for to put +them in exile for evermore.” “Certes,” quoth Dame Prudence, +“this were a cruel sentence, and much against reason. For ye be +rich enough, and have no need of other men’s goods; and ye +might lightly [easily] in this wise get you a covetous name, +which is a vicious thing, and ought to be eschewed of every +good man: for, after the saying of the Apostle, covetousness is +root of all harms. And therefore it were better for you to lose +much good of your own, than for to take of their good in this +manner. For better it is to lose good with worship [honour], +than to win good with villainy and shame. And every man ought +to do his diligence and his business to get him a good name. +And yet [further] shall he not only busy him in keeping his good +name, but he shall also enforce him alway to do some thing by +which he may renew his good name; for it is written, that the +old good los [reputation <5>] of a man is soon gone and +passed, when it is not renewed. And as touching that ye say, +that ye will exile your adversaries, that thinketh ye much against +reason, and out of measure, [moderation] considered the power +that they have given you upon themselves. And it is written, +that he is worthy to lose his privilege, that misuseth the might +and the power that is given him. And I set case [if I assume] ye +might enjoin them that pain by right and by law (which I trow +ye may not do), I say, ye might not put it to execution +peradventure, and then it were like to return to the war, as it +was before. And therefore if ye will that men do you obeisance, +ye must deem [decide] more courteously, that is to say, ye must +give more easy sentences and judgements. For it is written, ‘He +that most courteously commandeth, to him men most obey.’ +And therefore I pray you, that in this necessity and in this need +ye cast you [endeavour, devise a way] to overcome your heart. +For Seneca saith, that he that overcometh his heart, overcometh +twice. And Tullius saith, ‘There is nothing so commendable in a +great lord, as when he is debonair and meek, and appeaseth him +lightly [easily].’ And I pray you, that ye will now forbear to do +vengeance, in such a manner, that your good name may be kept +and conserved, and that men may have cause and matter to +praise you of pity and of mercy; and that ye have no cause to +repent you of thing that ye do. For Seneca saith, ‘He +overcometh in an evil manner, that repenteth him of his victory.’ +Wherefore I pray you let mercy be in your heart, to the effect +and intent that God Almighty have mercy upon you in his last +judgement; for Saint James saith in his Epistle, ‘Judgement +without mercy shall be done to him, that hath no mercy of +another wight.’” +</p> + +<p> +When Melibœus had heard the great skills [arguments, reasons] +and reasons of Dame Prudence, and her wise information and +teaching, his heart gan incline to the will of his wife, considering +her true intent, he conformed him anon and assented fully to +work after her counsel, and thanked God, of whom proceedeth +all goodness and all virtue, that him sent a wife of so great +discretion. And when the day came that his adversaries should +appear in his presence, he spake to them full goodly, and said in +this wise; “Albeit so, that of your pride and high presumption +and folly, an of your negligence and unconning, [ignorance] ye +have misborne [misbehaved] you, and trespassed [done injury] +unto me, yet forasmuch as I see and behold your great humility, +and that ye be sorry and repentant of your guilts, it constraineth +me to do you grace and mercy. Wherefore I receive you into my +grace, and forgive you utterly all the offences, injuries, and +wrongs, that ye have done against me and mine, to this effect +and to this end, that God of his endless mercy will at the time of +our dying forgive us our guilts, that we have trespassed to him +in this wretched world; for doubtless, if we be sorry and +repentant of the sins and guilts which we have trespassed in the +sight of our Lord God, he is so free and so merciable [merciful], +that he will forgive us our guilts, and bring us to the bliss that +never hath end.” Amen. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to Chaucer’s Tale of Melibœus. +</p> + +<p> +1. The Tale of Melibœus is literally translated from a French +story, or rather “treatise,” in prose, entitled “Le Livre de +Melibee et de Dame Prudence,” of which two manuscripts, both +dating from the fifteenth century, are preserved in the British +Museum. Tyrwhitt, justly enough, says of it that it is indeed, as +Chaucer called it in the prologue, “‘a moral tale virtuous,’ and +was probably much esteemed in its time; but, in this age of +levity, I doubt some readers will be apt to regret that he did not +rather give us the remainder of Sir Thopas.” It has been +remarked that in the earlier portion of the Tale, as it left the +hand of the poet, a number of blank verses were intermixed; +though this peculiarity of style, noticeable in any case only in +the first 150 or 200 lines, has necessarily all but disappeared by +the changes of spelling made in the modern editions. The +Editor’s purpose being to present to the public not “The +Canterbury Tales” merely, but “The Poems of Chaucer,” so far +as may be consistent with the limits of this volume, he has +condensed the long reasonings and learned quotations of Dame +Prudence into a mere outline, connecting those portions of the +Tale wherein lies so much of story as it actually possesses, and +the general reader will probably not regret the sacrifice, made in +the view of retaining so far as possible the completeness of the +Tales, while lessening the intrusion of prose into a volume or +poems. The good wife of Melibœus literally overflows with +quotations from David, Solomon, Jesus the Son of Sirach, the +Apostles, Ovid, Cicero, Seneca, Cassiodorus, Cato, Petrus +Alphonsus — the converted Spanish Jew, of the twelfth century, +who wrote the “Disciplina Clericalis” — and other authorities; +and in some passages, especially where husband and wife debate +the merits or demerits of women, and where Prudence dilates +on the evils of poverty, Chaucer only reproduces much that had +been said already in the Tales that preceded — such as the +Merchant’s and the Man of Law’s. +</p> + +<p> +2. The lines which follow are a close translation of the original<br/> +Latin, which reads:<br/> + “Quis matrem, nisi mentis inops, in funere nati<br/> + Flere vetet? non hoc illa monenda loco.<br/> + Cum dederit lacrymas, animumque expleverit aegrum,<br/> + Ille dolor verbis emoderandus erit.”<br/> +Ovid, “Remedia Amoris,” 127-131. +</p> + +<p> +3. See the conversation between Pluto and Proserpine, in the +Merchant’s Tale. +</p> + +<p> +4. “Thy name,” she says, “is Melibœus; that is to say, a man +that drinketh honey.” +</p> + +<p> +5. Los: reputation; from the past participle of the Anglo-Saxon, +“hlisan” to celebrate. Compare Latin, “laus.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap23"></a>THE MONK’S TALE.</h2> + +<h3>THE PROLOGUE</h3> + +<p> +WHEN ended was my tale of Melibee,<br/> +And of Prudence and her benignity,<br/> +Our Hoste said, “As I am faithful man,<br/> +And by the precious corpus Madrian,<1><br/> +I had lever* than a barrel of ale, *rather<br/> +That goode lefe* my wife had heard this tale; *dear<br/> +For she is no thing of such patience<br/> +As was this Melibœus’ wife Prudence.<br/> +By Godde’s bones! when I beat my knaves<br/> +She bringeth me the greate clubbed staves,<br/> +And crieth, ‘Slay the dogges every one,<br/> +And break of them both back and ev’ry bone.’<br/> +And if that any neighebour of mine<br/> +Will not in church unto my wife incline,<br/> +Or be so hardy to her to trespace,* *offend<br/> +When she comes home she rampeth* in my face, *springs<br/> +And crieth, ‘False coward, wreak* thy wife *avenge<br/> +By corpus Domini, I will have thy knife,<br/> +And thou shalt have my distaff, and go spin.’<br/> +From day till night right thus she will begin.<br/> + ‘Alas!’ she saith, ‘that ever I was shape* *destined<br/> +To wed a milksop, or a coward ape,<br/> +That will be overlad* with every wight! *imposed on<br/> +Thou darest not stand by thy wife’s right.’ +</p> + +<p> +“This is my life, *but if* that I will fight; *unless<br/> +And out at door anon I must me dight,* *betake myself<br/> +Or elles I am lost, but if that I<br/> +Be, like a wilde lion, fool-hardy.<br/> +I wot well she will do* me slay some day *make<br/> +Some neighebour and thenne *go my way;* *take to flight*<br/> +For I am perilous with knife in hand,<br/> +Albeit that I dare not her withstand;<br/> +For she is big in armes, by my faith!<br/> +That shall he find, that her misdoth or saith. <2><br/> +But let us pass away from this mattere.<br/> +My lord the Monk,” quoth he, “be merry of cheer,<br/> +For ye shall tell a tale truely.<br/> +Lo, Rochester stands here faste by.<br/> +Ride forth, mine owen lord, break not our game.<br/> +But by my troth I cannot tell your name;<br/> +Whether shall I call you my lord Dan John,<br/> +Or Dan Thomas, or elles Dan Albon?<br/> +Of what house be ye, by your father’s kin?<br/> +I vow to God, thou hast a full fair skin;<br/> +It is a gentle pasture where thou go’st;<br/> +Thou art not like a penant* or a ghost. *penitent<br/> +Upon my faith thou art some officer,<br/> +Some worthy sexton, or some cellarer.<br/> +For by my father’s soul, *as to my dome,* *in my judgement*<br/> +Thou art a master when thou art at home;<br/> +No poore cloisterer, nor no novice,<br/> +But a governor, both wily and wise,<br/> +And therewithal, of brawnes* and of bones, *sinews<br/> +A right well-faring person for the nonce.<br/> +I pray to God give him confusion<br/> +That first thee brought into religion.<br/> +Thou would’st have been a treade-fowl* aright; *cock<br/> +Hadst thou as greate leave, as thou hast might,<br/> +To perform all thy lust in engendrure,* *generation, begettting<br/> +Thou hadst begotten many a creature.<br/> +Alas! why wearest thou so wide a cope? <3><br/> +God give me sorrow, but, an* I were pope, *if<br/> +Not only thou, but every mighty man,<br/> +Though he were shorn full high upon his pan,* <4> *crown<br/> +Should have a wife; for all this world is lorn;* *undone, ruined<br/> +Religion hath ta’en up all the corn<br/> +Of treading, and we borel* men be shrimps: *lay<br/> +Of feeble trees there come wretched imps.* *shoots <5><br/> +This maketh that our heires be so slender<br/> +And feeble, that they may not well engender.<br/> +This maketh that our wives will assay<br/> +Religious folk, for they may better pay<br/> +Of Venus’ payementes than may we:<br/> +God wot, no lusheburghes <6> paye ye.<br/> +But be not wroth, my lord, though that I play;<br/> +Full oft in game a sooth have I heard say.” +</p> + +<p> +This worthy Monk took all in patience,<br/> +And said, “I will do all my diligence,<br/> +As far as *souneth unto honesty,* *agrees with good manners*<br/> +To telle you a tale, or two or three.<br/> +And if you list to hearken hitherward,<br/> +I will you say the life of Saint Edward;<br/> +Or elles first tragedies I will tell,<br/> +Of which I have an hundred in my cell.<br/> +Tragedy *is to say* a certain story, *means*<br/> +As olde bookes maken us memory,<br/> +Of him that stood in great prosperity,<br/> +And is y-fallen out of high degree<br/> +In misery, and endeth wretchedly.<br/> +And they be versified commonly<br/> +Of six feet, which men call hexametron;<br/> +In prose eke* be indited many a one, *also<br/> +And eke in metre, in many a sundry wise.<br/> +Lo, this declaring ought enough suffice.<br/> +Now hearken, if ye like for to hear.<br/> +But first I you beseech in this mattere,<br/> +Though I by order telle not these things,<br/> +Be it of popes, emperors, or kings,<br/> +*After their ages,* as men written find, *in chronological order*<br/> +But tell them some before and some behind,<br/> +As it now cometh to my remembrance,<br/> +Have me excused of mine ignorance.” +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Prologue to The Monk’s Tale +</p> + +<p> +1. The Corpus Madrian: the body of St. Maternus, of Treves. +</p> + +<p> +2. That her misdoth or saith: that does or says any thing to +offend her. +</p> + +<p> +3. Cope: An ecclesiastcal vestment covering all the body like a +cloak. +</p> + +<p> +4. Though he were shorn full high upon his pan: though he were +tonsured, as the clergy are. +</p> + +<p> +5. Imps: shoots, branches; from Anglo-Saxon, “impian,” +German, “impfen,” to implant, ingraft. The word is now used in +a very restricted sense, to signify the progeny, children, of the +devil. +</p> + +<p> +6. Lusheburghes: base or counterfeit coins; so called because +struck at Luxemburg. A great importation of them took place +during the reigns of the earlier Edwards, and they caused much +annoyance and complaint, till in 1351 it was declared treason to +bring them into the country. +</p> + +<h3>THE TALE. <1></h3> + +<p> +I will bewail, in manner of tragedy,<br/> +The harm of them that stood in high degree,<br/> +And felle so, that there was no remedy<br/> +To bring them out of their adversity.<br/> +For, certain, when that Fortune list to flee,<br/> +There may no man the course of her wheel hold:<br/> +Let no man trust in blind prosperity;<br/> +Beware by these examples true and old. +</p> + +<p> +At LUCIFER, though he an angel were,<br/> +And not a man, at him I will begin.<br/> +For though Fortune may no angel dere,* *hurt<br/> +From high degree yet fell he for his sin<br/> +Down into hell, where as he yet is in.<br/> +O Lucifer! brightest of angels all,<br/> +Now art thou Satanas, that may’st not twin* *depart<br/> +Out of the misery in which thou art fall. +</p> + +<p> +Lo ADAM, in the field of Damascene <2><br/> +With Godde’s owen finger wrought was he,<br/> +And not begotten of man’s sperm unclean;<br/> +And welt* all Paradise saving one tree: *commanded<br/> +Had never worldly man so high degree<br/> +As Adam, till he for misgovernance* *misbehaviour<br/> +Was driven out of his prosperity<br/> +To labour, and to hell, and to mischance. +</p> + +<p> +Lo SAMPSON, which that was annunciate<br/> +By the angel, long ere his nativity; <3><br/> +And was to God Almighty consecrate,<br/> +And stood in nobless while that he might see;<br/> +Was never such another as was he,<br/> +To speak of strength, and thereto hardiness;* *courage<br/> +But to his wives told he his secre,<br/> +Through which he slew himself for wretchedness. +</p> + +<p> +Sampson, this noble and mighty champion,<br/> +Withoute weapon, save his handes tway,<br/> +He slew and all to-rente* the lion, *tore to pieces<br/> +Toward his wedding walking by the way.<br/> +His false wife could him so please, and pray,<br/> +Till she his counsel knew; and she, untrue,<br/> +Unto his foes his counsel gan bewray,<br/> +And him forsook, and took another new. +</p> + +<p> +Three hundred foxes Sampson took for ire,<br/> +And all their tailes he together band,<br/> +And set the foxes’ tailes all on fire,<br/> +For he in every tail had knit a brand,<br/> +And they burnt all the combs of that lend,<br/> +And all their oliveres* and vines eke. *olive trees <4><br/> +A thousand men he slew eke with his hand,<br/> +And had no weapon but an ass’s cheek. +</p> + +<p> +When they were slain, so thirsted him, that he<br/> +Was *well-nigh lorn,* for which he gan to pray *near to perishing*<br/> +That God would on his pain have some pity,<br/> +And send him drink, or elles must he die;<br/> +And of this ass’s check, that was so dry,<br/> +Out of a wang-tooth* sprang anon a well, *cheek-tooth<br/> +Of which, he drank enough, shortly to say.<br/> +Thus help’d him God, as Judicum <5> can tell. +</p> + +<p> +By very force, at Gaza, on a night,<br/> +Maugre* the Philistines of that city, *in spite of<br/> +The gates of the town he hath up plight,* *plucked, wrenched<br/> +And on his back y-carried them hath he<br/> +High on an hill, where as men might them see.<br/> +O noble mighty Sampson, lefe* and dear, *loved<br/> +Hadst thou not told to women thy secre,<br/> +In all this world there had not been thy peer. +</p> + +<p> +This Sampson never cider drank nor wine,<br/> +Nor on his head came razor none nor shear,<br/> +By precept of the messenger divine;<br/> +For all his strengthes in his haires were;<br/> +And fully twenty winters, year by year,<br/> +He had of Israel the governance;<br/> +But soone shall he weepe many a tear,<br/> +For women shall him bringe to mischance. +</p> + +<p> +Unto his leman* Dalila he told, *mistress<br/> +That in his haires all his strengthe lay;<br/> +And falsely to his foemen she him sold,<br/> +And sleeping in her barme* upon a day *lap<br/> +She made to clip or shear his hair away,<br/> +And made his foemen all his craft espien.<br/> +And when they founde him in this array,<br/> +They bound him fast, and put out both his eyen. +</p> + +<p> +But, ere his hair was clipped or y-shave,<br/> +There was no bond with which men might him bind;<br/> +But now is he in prison in a cave,<br/> +Where as they made him at the querne* grind. *mill <6><br/> +O noble Sampson, strongest of mankind!<br/> +O whilom judge in glory and richess!<br/> +Now may’st thou weepe with thine eyen blind,<br/> +Since thou from weal art fall’n to wretchedness. +</p> + +<p> +Th’end of this caitiff* was as I shall say; *wretched man<br/> +His foemen made a feast upon a day,<br/> +And made him as their fool before them play;<br/> +And this was in a temple of great array.<br/> +But at the last he made a foul affray,<br/> +For he two pillars shook, and made them fall,<br/> +And down fell temple and all, and there it lay,<br/> +And slew himself and eke his foemen all; +</p> + +<p> +This is to say, the princes every one;<br/> +And eke three thousand bodies were there slain<br/> +With falling of the great temple of stone.<br/> +Of Sampson now will I no more sayn;<br/> +Beware by this example old and plain,<br/> +That no man tell his counsel to his wife<br/> +Of such thing as he would *have secret fain,* *wish to be secret*<br/> +If that it touch his limbes or his life. +</p> + +<p> +Of HERCULES the sov’reign conquerour<br/> +Singe his workes’ land and high renown;<br/> +For in his time of strength he bare the flow’r.<br/> +He slew and reft the skin of the lion<br/> +He of the Centaurs laid the boast adown;<br/> +He Harpies <7> slew, the cruel birdes fell;<br/> +He golden apples reft from the dragon<br/> +He drew out Cerberus the hound of hell. +</p> + +<p> +He slew the cruel tyrant Busirus. <8><br/> +And made his horse to fret* him flesh and bone; *devour<br/> +He slew the fiery serpent venomous;<br/> +Of Achelous’ two hornes brake he one.<br/> +And he slew Cacus in a cave of stone;<br/> +He slew the giant Antaeus the strong;<br/> +He slew the grisly boar, and that anon;<br/> +And bare the heav’n upon his necke long. <9> +</p> + +<p> +Was never wight, since that the world began,<br/> +That slew so many monsters as did he;<br/> +Throughout the wide world his name ran,<br/> +What for his strength, and for his high bounte;<br/> +And every realme went he for to see;<br/> +He was so strong that no man might him let;* *withstand<br/> +At both the worlde’s ends, as saith Trophee, <10><br/> +Instead of boundes he a pillar set. +</p> + +<p> +A leman had this noble champion,<br/> +That highte Dejanira, fresh as May;<br/> +And, as these clerkes make mention,<br/> +She hath him sent a shirte fresh and gay;<br/> +Alas! this shirt, alas and well-away!<br/> +Envenomed was subtilly withal,<br/> +That ere that he had worn it half a day,<br/> +It made his flesh all from his bones fall. +</p> + +<p> +But natheless some clerkes her excuse<br/> +By one, that highte Nessus, that it maked;<br/> +Be as he may, I will not her accuse;<br/> +But on his back this shirt he wore all naked,<br/> +Till that his flesh was for the venom blaked.* *blackened<br/> +And when he saw none other remedy,<br/> +In hote coals he hath himselfe raked,<br/> +For with no venom deigned he to die. +</p> + +<p> +Thus sterf* this worthy mighty Hercules. *died<br/> +Lo, who may trust on Fortune *any throw?* *for a moment*<br/> +For him that followeth all this world of pres,* *near <11><br/> +Ere he be ware, is often laid full low;<br/> +Full wise is he that can himselfe know.<br/> +Beware, for when that Fortune list to glose<br/> +Then waiteth she her man to overthrow,<br/> +By such a way as he would least suppose. +</p> + +<p> +The mighty throne, the precious treasor,<br/> +The glorious sceptre, and royal majesty,<br/> +That had the king NABUCHODONOSOR<br/> +With tongue unnethes* may described be. *scarcely<br/> +He twice won Jerusalem the city,<br/> +The vessels of the temple he with him lad;* *took away<br/> +At Babylone was his sov’reign see,* *seat<br/> +In which his glory and delight he had. +</p> + +<p> +The fairest children of the blood royal<br/> +Of Israel he *did do geld* anon, *caused to be castrated*<br/> +And maked each of them to be his thrall.* *slave<br/> +Amonges others Daniel was one,<br/> +That was the wisest child of every one;<br/> +For he the dreames of the king expounded,<br/> +Where in Chaldaea clerkes was there none<br/> +That wiste to what fine* his dreames sounded. *end +</p> + +<p> +This proude king let make a statue of gold<br/> +Sixty cubites long, and seven in bread’,<br/> +To which image hathe young and old<br/> +Commanded he to lout,* and have in dread, *bow down to<br/> +Or in a furnace, full of flames red,<br/> +He should be burnt that woulde not obey:<br/> +But never would assente to that deed<br/> +Daniel, nor his younge fellows tway. +</p> + +<p> +This king of kinges proud was and elate;* *lofty<br/> +He ween’d* that God, that sits in majesty, *thought<br/> +Mighte him not bereave of his estate;<br/> +But suddenly he lost his dignity,<br/> +And like a beast he seemed for to be,<br/> +And ate hay as an ox, and lay thereout<br/> +In rain, with wilde beastes walked he,<br/> +Till certain time was y-come about. +</p> + +<p> +And like an eagle’s feathers wax’d his hairs,<br/> +His nailes like a birde’s clawes were,<br/> +Till God released him at certain years,<br/> +And gave him wit; and then with many a tear<br/> +He thanked God, and ever his life in fear<br/> +Was he to do amiss, or more trespace:<br/> +And till that time he laid was on his bier,<br/> +He knew that God was full of might and grace. +</p> + +<p> +His sone, which that highte BALTHASAR,<br/> +That *held the regne* after his father’s day, *possessed the kingdom*<br/> +He by his father coulde not beware,<br/> +For proud he was of heart and of array;<br/> +And eke an idolaster was he aye.<br/> +His high estate assured* him in pride; *confirmed<br/> +But Fortune cast him down, and there he lay,<br/> +And suddenly his regne gan divide. +</p> + +<p> +A feast he made unto his lordes all<br/> +Upon a time, and made them blithe be,<br/> +And then his officeres gan he call;<br/> +“Go, bringe forth the vessels,” saide he,<br/> +“Which that my father in his prosperity<br/> +Out of the temple of Jerusalem reft,<br/> +And to our highe goddes thanks we<br/> +Of honour, that our elders* with us left.” *forefathers +</p> + +<p> +His wife, his lordes, and his concubines<br/> +Aye dranke, while their appetites did last,<br/> +Out of these noble vessels sundry wines.<br/> +And on a wall this king his eyen cast,<br/> +And saw an hand, armless, that wrote full fast;<br/> +For fear of which he quaked, and sighed sore.<br/> +This hand, that Balthasar so sore aghast,* *dismayed<br/> +Wrote Mane, tekel, phares, and no more. +</p> + +<p> +In all that land magician was there none<br/> +That could expounde what this letter meant.<br/> +But Daniel expounded it anon,<br/> +And said, “O King, God to thy father lent<br/> +Glory and honour, regne, treasure, rent;* *revenue<br/> +And he was proud, and nothing God he drad;* *dreaded<br/> +And therefore God great wreche* upon him sent, *vengeance<br/> +And him bereft the regne that he had. +</p> + +<p> +“He was cast out of manne’s company;<br/> +With asses was his habitation<br/> +And ate hay, as a beast, in wet and dry,<br/> +Till that he knew by grace and by reason<br/> +That God of heaven hath domination<br/> +O’er every regne, and every creature;<br/> +And then had God of him compassion,<br/> +And him restor’d his regne and his figure. +</p> + +<p> +“Eke thou, that art his son, art proud also,<br/> +And knowest all these thinges verily;<br/> +And art rebel to God, and art his foe.<br/> +Thou drankest of his vessels boldely;<br/> +Thy wife eke, and thy wenches, sinfully<br/> +Drank of the same vessels sundry wines,<br/> +And heried* false goddes cursedly; *praised<br/> +Therefore *to thee y-shapen full great pine is.* *great punishment is<br/> + prepared for thee*<br/> +“This hand was sent from God, that on the wall<br/> +Wrote Mane, tekel, phares, truste me;<br/> +Thy reign is done; thou weighest naught at all;<br/> +Divided is thy regne, and it shall be<br/> +To Medes and to Persians giv’n,” quoth he.<br/> +And thilke same night this king was slaw* *slain<br/> +And Darius occupied his degree,<br/> +Though he thereto had neither right nor law. +</p> + +<p> +Lordings, example hereby may ye take,<br/> +How that in lordship is no sickerness;* *security<br/> +For when that Fortune will a man forsake,<br/> +She bears away his regne and his richess,<br/> +And eke his friendes bothe more and less,<br/> +For what man that hath friendes through fortune,<br/> +Mishap will make them enemies, I guess;<br/> +This proverb is full sooth, and full commune. +</p> + +<p> +ZENOBIA, of Palmyrie the queen, <12><br/> +As write Persians of her nobless,<br/> +So worthy was in armes, and so keen,<br/> +That no wight passed her in hardiness,<br/> +Nor in lineage, nor other gentleness.* *noble qualities<br/> +Of the king’s blood of Perse* is she descended; *Persia<br/> +I say not that she hadde most fairness,<br/> +But of her shape she might not he amended. +</p> + +<p> +From her childhood I finde that she fled<br/> +Office of woman, and to woods she went,<br/> +And many a wilde harte’s blood she shed<br/> +With arrows broad that she against them sent;<br/> +She was so swift, that she anon them hent.* *caught<br/> +And when that she was older, she would kill<br/> +Lions, leopards, and beares all to-rent,* *torn to pieces<br/> +And in her armes wield them at her will. +</p> + +<p> +She durst the wilde beastes’ dennes seek,<br/> +And runnen in the mountains all the night,<br/> +And sleep under a bush; and she could eke<br/> +Wrestle by very force and very might<br/> +With any young man, were he ne’er so wight;* *active, nimble<br/> +There mighte nothing in her armes stond.<br/> +She kept her maidenhood from every wight,<br/> +To no man deigned she for to be bond. +</p> + +<p> +But at the last her friendes have her married<br/> +To Odenate, <13> a prince of that country;<br/> +All were it so, that she them longe tarried.<br/> +And ye shall understande how that he<br/> +Hadde such fantasies as hadde she;<br/> +But natheless, when they were knit in fere,* *together<br/> +They liv’d in joy, and in felicity,<br/> +For each of them had other lefe* and dear. *loved +</p> + +<p> +Save one thing, that she never would assent,<br/> +By no way, that he shoulde by her lie<br/> +But ones, for it was her plain intent<br/> +To have a child, the world to multiply;<br/> +And all so soon as that she might espy<br/> +That she was not with childe by that deed,<br/> +Then would she suffer him do his fantasy<br/> +Eftsoon,* and not but ones, *out of dread.* *again *without doubt* +</p> + +<p> +And if she were with child at thilke* cast, *that<br/> +No more should he playe thilke game<br/> +Till fully forty dayes were past;<br/> +Then would she once suffer him do the same.<br/> +All* were this Odenatus wild or tame, *whether<br/> +He got no more of her; for thus she said,<br/> +It was to wives lechery and shame<br/> +In other case* if that men with them play’d. on other terms +</p> + +<p> +Two sones, by this Odenate had she,<br/> +The which she kept in virtue and lettrure.* *learning<br/> +But now unto our tale turne we;<br/> +I say, so worshipful a creature,<br/> +And wise therewith, and large* with measure,** *bountiful **moderation<br/> +So penible* in the war, and courteous eke, *laborious<br/> +Nor more labour might in war endure,<br/> +Was none, though all this worlde men should seek. +</p> + +<p> +Her rich array it mighte not be told,<br/> +As well in vessel as in her clothing:<br/> +She was all clad in pierrie* and in gold, *jewellery<br/> +And eke she *lefte not,* for no hunting, *did not neglect*<br/> +To have of sundry tongues full knowing,<br/> +When that she leisure had, and for t’intend* *apply<br/> +To learne bookes was all her liking,<br/> +How she in virtue might her life dispend. +</p> + +<p> +And, shortly of this story for to treat,<br/> +So doughty was her husband and eke she,<br/> +That they conquered many regnes great<br/> +In th’Orient, with many a fair city<br/> +Appertinent unto the majesty<br/> +Of Rome, and with strong hande held them fast,<br/> +Nor ever might their foemen do* them flee, *make<br/> +Aye while that Odenatus’ dayes last’. +</p> + +<p> +Her battles, whoso list them for to read,<br/> +Against Sapor the king, <14> and other mo’,<br/> +And how that all this process fell in deed,<br/> +Why she conquer’d, and what title thereto,<br/> +And after of her mischief* and her woe, *misfortune<br/> +How that she was besieged and y-take,<br/> +Let him unto my master Petrarch go,<br/> +That writes enough of this, I undertake. +</p> + +<p> +When Odenate was dead, she mightily<br/> +The regne held, and with her proper hand<br/> +Against her foes she fought so cruelly,<br/> +That there n’as* king nor prince in all that land, *was not<br/> +That was not glad, if be that grace fand<br/> +That she would not upon his land warray;* *make war<br/> +With her they maden alliance by bond,<br/> +To be in peace, and let her ride and play. +</p> + +<p> +The emperor of Rome, Claudius,<br/> +Nor, him before, the Roman Gallien,<br/> +Durste never be so courageous,<br/> +Nor no Armenian, nor Egyptien,<br/> +Nor Syrian, nor no Arabien,<br/> +Within the fielde durste with her fight,<br/> +Lest that she would them with her handes slen,* *slay<br/> +Or with her meinie* putte them to flight. *troops +</p> + +<p> +In kinges’ habit went her sones two,<br/> +As heires of their father’s regnes all;<br/> +And Heremanno and Timolao<br/> +Their names were, as Persians them call<br/> +But aye Fortune hath in her honey gall;<br/> +This mighty queene may no while endure;<br/> +Fortune out of her regne made her fall<br/> +To wretchedness and to misadventure. +</p> + +<p> +Aurelian, when that the governance<br/> +Of Rome came into his handes tway, <15><br/> +He shope* upon this queen to do vengeance; *prepared<br/> +And with his legions he took his way<br/> +Toward Zenobie, and, shortly for to say,<br/> +He made her flee, and at the last her hent,* *took<br/> +And fetter’d her, and eke her children tway,<br/> +And won the land, and home to Rome he went. +</p> + +<p> +Amonges other thinges that he wan,<br/> +Her car, that was with gold wrought and pierrie,* *jewels<br/> +This greate Roman, this Aurelian<br/> +Hath with him led, for that men should it see.<br/> +Before in his triumphe walked she<br/> +With gilte chains upon her neck hanging;<br/> +Crowned she was, as after* her degree, *according to<br/> +And full of pierrie her clothing. +</p> + +<p> +Alas, Fortune! she that whilom was<br/> +Dreadful to kinges and to emperours,<br/> +Now galeth* all the people on her, alas! *yelleth<br/> +And she that *helmed was in starke stowres,* *wore a helmet in<br/> +And won by force townes strong and tow’rs, obstinate battles*<br/> +Shall on her head now wear a vitremite; <16><br/> +And she that bare the sceptre full of flow’rs<br/> +Shall bear a distaff, *her cost for to quite.* * to make her living* +</p> + +<p> +Although that NERO were so vicious<br/> +As any fiend that lies full low adown,<br/> +Yet he, as telleth us Suetonius,<17><br/> +This wide world had in subjectioun,<br/> +Both East and West, South and Septentrioun.<br/> +Of rubies, sapphires, and of pearles white<br/> +Were all his clothes embroider’d up and down,<br/> +For he in gemmes greatly gan delight. +</p> + +<p> +More delicate, more pompous of array,<br/> +More proud, was never emperor than he;<br/> +That *ilke cloth* that he had worn one day, *same robe*<br/> +After that time he would it never see;<br/> +Nettes of gold thread had he great plenty,<br/> +To fish in Tiber, when him list to play;<br/> +His lustes* were as law, in his degree, *pleasures<br/> +For Fortune as his friend would him obey. +</p> + +<p> +He Rome burnt for his delicacy;* *pleasure<br/> +The senators he slew upon a day,<br/> +To heare how that men would weep and cry;<br/> +And slew his brother, and by his sister lay.<br/> +His mother made he in piteous array;<br/> +For he her wombe slitte, to behold<br/> +Where he conceived was; so well-away!<br/> +That he so little of his mother told.* *valued +</p> + +<p> +No tear out of his eyen for that sight<br/> +Came; but he said, a fair woman was she.<br/> +Great wonder is, how that he could or might<br/> +Be doomesman* of her deade beauty: *judge<br/> +The wine to bringe him commanded he,<br/> +And drank anon; none other woe he made,<br/> +When might is joined unto cruelty,<br/> +Alas! too deepe will the venom wade. +</p> + +<p> +In youth a master had this emperour,<br/> +To teache him lettrure* and courtesy; *literature, learning<br/> +For of morality he was the flow’r,<br/> +As in his time, *but if* bookes lie. *unless<br/> +And while this master had of him mast’ry,<br/> +He made him so conning and so souple,* *subtle<br/> +That longe time it was ere tyranny,<br/> +Or any vice, durst in him uncouple.* *be let loose +</p> + +<p> +This Seneca, of which that I devise,* *tell<br/> +Because Nero had of him suche dread,<br/> +For he from vices would him aye chastise<br/> +Discreetly, as by word, and not by deed;<br/> +“Sir,” he would say, “an emperor must need<br/> +Be virtuous, and hate tyranny.”<br/> +For which he made him in a bath to bleed<br/> +On both his armes, till he muste die. +</p> + +<p> +This Nero had eke of a custumance* *habit<br/> +In youth against his master for to rise;* *stand in his presence<br/> +Which afterward he thought a great grievance;<br/> +Therefore he made him dien in this wise.<br/> +But natheless this Seneca the wise<br/> +Chose in a bath to die in this mannere,<br/> +Rather than have another tormentise;* *torture<br/> +And thus hath Nero slain his master dear. +</p> + +<p> +Now fell it so, that Fortune list no longer<br/> +The highe pride of Nero to cherice;* *cherish<br/> +For though he were strong, yet was she stronger.<br/> +She thoughte thus; “By God, I am too nice* *foolish<br/> +To set a man, that is full fill’d of vice,<br/> +In high degree, and emperor him call!<br/> +By God, out of his seat I will him trice!* *thrust <18><br/> +When he least weeneth,* soonest shall he fall.” *expecteth +</p> + +<p> +The people rose upon him on a night,<br/> +For his default; and when he it espied,<br/> +Out of his doors anon he hath him dight* *betaken himself<br/> +Alone, and where he ween’d t’have been allied,* *regarded with<br/> +He knocked fast, and aye the more he cried friendship<br/> +The faster shutte they their doores all;<br/> +Then wist he well he had himself misgied,* *misled<br/> +And went his way, no longer durst he call. +</p> + +<p> +The people cried and rumbled up and down,<br/> +That with his eares heard he how they said;<br/> +“Where is this false tyrant, this Neroun?”<br/> +For fear almost out of his wit he braid,* *went<br/> +And to his goddes piteously he pray’d<br/> +For succour, but it mighte not betide<br/> +For dread of this he thoughte that died,<br/> +And ran into a garden him to hide. +</p> + +<p> +And in this garden found he churles tway,<br/> +That satte by a fire great and red;<br/> +And to these churles two he gan to pray<br/> +To slay him, and to girdon* off his head, *strike<br/> +That to his body, when that he were dead,<br/> +Were no despite done for his defame.* *infamy<br/> +Himself he slew, *he coud no better rede;* *he knew no better<br/> +Of which Fortune laugh’d and hadde game. counsel* +</p> + +<p> +Was never capitain under a king,<br/> +That regnes more put in subjectioun,<br/> +Nor stronger was in field of alle thing<br/> +As in his time, nor greater of renown,<br/> +Nor more pompous in high presumptioun,<br/> +Than HOLOFERNES, whom Fortune aye kiss’d<br/> +So lik’rously, and led him up and down,<br/> +Till that his head was off *ere that he wist.* *before he knew it* +</p> + +<p> +Not only that this world had of him awe,<br/> +For losing of richess and liberty;<br/> +But he made every man *reny his law.* *renounce his religion <19><br/> +Nabuchodonosor was God, said he;<br/> +None other Godde should honoured be.<br/> +Against his hest* there dare no wight trespace, *command<br/> +Save in Bethulia, a strong city,<br/> +Where Eliachim priest was of that place. +</p> + +<p> +But take keep* of the death of Holofern; *notice<br/> +Amid his host he drunken lay at night<br/> +Within his tente, large as is a bern;* *barn<br/> +And yet, for all his pomp and all his might,<br/> +Judith, a woman, as he lay upright<br/> +Sleeping, his head off smote, and from his tent<br/> +Full privily she stole from every wight,<br/> +And with his head unto her town she went. +</p> + +<p> +What needeth it of king ANTIOCHUS <20><br/> +To tell his high and royal majesty,<br/> +His great pride, and his workes venomous?<br/> +For such another was there none as he;<br/> +Reade what that he was in Maccabee.<br/> +And read the proude wordes that he said,<br/> +And why he fell from his prosperity,<br/> +And in an hill how wretchedly he died. +</p> + +<p> +Fortune him had enhanced so in pride,<br/> +That verily he ween’d he might attain<br/> +Unto the starres upon every side,<br/> +And in a balance weighen each mountain,<br/> +And all the floodes of the sea restrain.<br/> +And Godde’s people had he most in hate<br/> +Them would he slay in torment and in pain,<br/> +Weening that God might not his pride abate. +</p> + +<p> +And for that Nicanor and Timothee<br/> +With Jewes were vanquish’d mightily, <21><br/> +Unto the Jewes such an hate had he,<br/> +That he bade *graith his car* full hastily, *prepare his chariot*<br/> +And swore and saide full dispiteously,<br/> +Unto Jerusalem he would eftsoon,* *immediately<br/> +To wreak his ire on it full cruelly<br/> +But of his purpose was he let* full soon. *prevented +</p> + +<p> +God for his menace him so sore smote,<br/> +With invisible wound incurable,<br/> +That in his guttes carf* it so and bote,** *cut **gnawed<br/> +Till that his paines were importable;* *unendurable<br/> +And certainly the wreche* was reasonable, *vengeance<br/> +For many a manne’s guttes did he pain;<br/> +But from his purpose, curs’d* and damnable, *impious<br/> +For all his smart he would him not restrain;<br/> +But bade anon apparaile* his host. *prepare +</p> + +<p> +And suddenly, ere he was of it ware,<br/> +God daunted all his pride, and all his boast<br/> +For he so sore fell out of his chare,* *chariot<br/> +That it his limbes and his skin to-tare,<br/> +So that he neither mighte go nor ride<br/> +But in a chaire men about him bare,<br/> +Alle forbruised bothe back and side. +</p> + +<p> +The wreche* of God him smote so cruelly, *vengeance<br/> +That through his body wicked wormes crept,<br/> +And therewithal he stank so horribly<br/> +That none of all his meinie* that him kept, *servants<br/> +Whether so that he woke or elles slept,<br/> +Ne mighte not of him the stink endure.<br/> +In this mischief he wailed and eke wept,<br/> +And knew God Lord of every creature. +</p> + +<p> +To all his host, and to himself also,<br/> +Full wlatsem* was the stink of his carrain;** *loathsome **body<br/> +No manne might him beare to and fro.<br/> +And in this stink, and this horrible pain,<br/> +He starf* full wretchedly in a mountain. *dies<br/> +Thus hath this robber, and this homicide,<br/> +That many a manne made to weep and plain,<br/> +Such guerdon* as belongeth unto pride. *reward +</p> + +<p> +The story of ALEXANDER is so commune,<br/> +That ev’ry wight that hath discretion<br/> +Hath heard somewhat or all of his fortune.<br/> +This wide world, as in conclusion,<br/> +He won by strength; or, for his high renown,<br/> +They were glad for peace to him to send.<br/> +The pride and boast of man he laid adown,<br/> +Whereso he came, unto the worlde’s end. +</p> + +<p> +Comparison yet never might be maked<br/> +Between him and another conqueror;<br/> +For all this world for dread of him had quaked<br/> +He was of knighthood and of freedom flow’r:<br/> +Fortune him made the heir of her honour.<br/> +Save wine and women, nothing might assuage<br/> +His high intent in arms and labour,<br/> +So was he full of leonine courage. +</p> + +<p> +What praise were it to him, though I you told<br/> +Of Darius, and a hundred thousand mo’,<br/> +Of kinges, princes, dukes, and earles bold,<br/> +Which he conquer’d, and brought them into woe?<br/> +I say, as far as man may ride or go,<br/> +The world was his, why should I more devise?* *tell<br/> +For, though I wrote or told you evermo’,<br/> +Of his knighthood it mighte not suffice. +</p> + +<p> +Twelve years he reigned, as saith Maccabee<br/> +Philippe’s son of Macedon he was,<br/> +That first was king in Greece the country.<br/> +O worthy gentle* Alexander, alas *noble<br/> +That ever should thee falle such a case!<br/> +Empoison’d of thine owen folk thou were;<br/> +Thy six <22> fortune hath turn’d into an ace,<br/> +And yet for thee she wepte never a tear. +</p> + +<p> +Who shall me give teares to complain<br/> +The death of gentiless, and of franchise,* *generosity<br/> +That all this worlde had in his demaine,* *dominion<br/> +And yet he thought it mighte not suffice,<br/> +So full was his corage* of high emprise? *spirit<br/> +Alas! who shall me helpe to indite<br/> +False Fortune, and poison to despise?<br/> +The whiche two of all this woe I wite.* *blame +</p> + +<p> +By wisdom, manhood, and by great labour,<br/> +From humbleness to royal majesty<br/> +Up rose he, JULIUS the Conquerour,<br/> +That won all th’ Occident,* by land and sea, *West<br/> +By strength of hand or elles by treaty,<br/> +And unto Rome made them tributary;<br/> +And since* of Rome the emperor was he, *afterwards<br/> +Till that Fortune wax’d his adversary. +</p> + +<p> +O mighty Caesar, that in Thessaly<br/> +Against POMPEIUS, father thine in law, <23><br/> +That of th’ Orient had all the chivalry,<br/> +As far as that the day begins to daw,<br/> +That through thy knighthood hast them take and slaw,* slain*<br/> +Save fewe folk that with Pompeius fled;<br/> +Through which thou put all th’ Orient in awe; <24><br/> +Thanke Fortune that so well thee sped. +</p> + +<p> +But now a little while I will bewail<br/> +This Pompeius, this noble governor<br/> +Of Rome, which that fled at this battaile<br/> +I say, one of his men, a false traitor,<br/> +His head off smote, to winne him favor<br/> +Of Julius, and him the head he brought;<br/> +Alas! Pompey, of th’ Orient conqueror,<br/> +That Fortune unto such a fine* thee brought! *end +</p> + +<p> +To Rome again repaired Julius,<br/> +With his triumphe laureate full high;<br/> +But on a time Brutus and Cassius,<br/> +That ever had of his estate envy,<br/> +Full privily have made conspiracy<br/> +Against this Julius in subtle wise<br/> +And cast* the place in which he shoulde die, *arranged<br/> +With bodekins,* as I shall you devise.** *daggers **tell +</p> + +<p> +This Julius to the Capitole went<br/> +Upon a day, as he was wont to gon;<br/> +And in the Capitol anon him hent* *seized<br/> +This false Brutus, and his other fone,* *foes<br/> +And sticked him with bodekins anon<br/> +With many a wound, and thus they let him lie.<br/> +But never groan’d he at no stroke but one,<br/> +Or else at two, *but if* the story lie. *unless +</p> + +<p> +So manly was this Julius of heart,<br/> +And so well loved *estately honesty *dignified propriety*<br/> +That, though his deadly woundes sore smart,* *pained him<br/> +His mantle o’er his hippes caste he,<br/> +That ne man shoulde see his privity<br/> +And as he lay a-dying in a trance,<br/> +And wiste verily that dead was he,<br/> +Of honesty yet had he remembrance. +</p> + +<p> +Lucan, to thee this story I recommend,<br/> +And to Sueton’, and Valerie also,<br/> +That of this story write *word and end* *the whole* <25><br/> +How that to these great conquerores two<br/> +Fortune was first a friend, and since* a foe. *afterwards<br/> +No manne trust upon her favour long,<br/> +But *have her in await for evermo’;* *ever be watchful against her*<br/> +Witness on all these conquerores strong. +</p> + +<p> +The riche CROESUS, <26> whilom king of Lyde, —<br/> +Of which Croesus Cyrus him sore drad,* — *dreaded<br/> +Yet was he caught amiddes all his pride,<br/> +And to be burnt men to the fire him lad;<br/> +But such a rain down *from the welkin shad,* *poured from the sky*<br/> +That slew the fire, and made him to escape:<br/> +But to beware no grace yet he had,<br/> +Till fortune on the gallows made him gape. +</p> + +<p> +When he escaped was, he could not stint* *refrain<br/> +For to begin a newe war again;<br/> +He weened well, for that Fortune him sent<br/> +Such hap, that he escaped through the rain,<br/> +That of his foes he mighte not be slain.<br/> +And eke a sweven* on a night he mette,** *dream **dreamed<br/> +Of which he was so proud, and eke so fain,* *glad<br/> +That he in vengeance all his hearte set. +</p> + +<p> +Upon a tree he was set, as he thought,<br/> +Where Jupiter him wash’d, both back and side,<br/> +And Phoebus eke a fair towel him brought<br/> +To dry him with; and therefore wax’d his pride.<br/> +And to his daughter that stood him beside,<br/> +Which he knew in high science to abound,<br/> +He bade her tell him what it signified;<br/> +And she his dream began right thus expound. +</p> + +<p> +“The tree,” quoth she, “the gallows is to mean,<br/> +And Jupiter betokens snow and rain,<br/> +And Phoebus, with his towel clear and clean,<br/> +These be the sunne’s streames* sooth to sayn; *rays<br/> +Thou shalt y-hangeth be, father, certain;<br/> +Rain shall thee wash, and sunne shall thee dry.”<br/> +Thus warned him full plat and eke full plain<br/> +His daughter, which that called was Phanie. +</p> + +<p> +And hanged was Croesus the proude king;<br/> +His royal throne might him not avail.<br/> +Tragedy is none other manner thing,<br/> +Nor can in singing crien nor bewail,<br/> +But for that Fortune all day will assail<br/> +With unware stroke the regnes* that be proud:<27> *kingdoms<br/> +For when men truste her, then will she fail,<br/> +And cover her bright face with a cloud. +</p> + +<p> +O noble, O worthy PEDRO, <28> glory OF SPAIN,<br/> +Whem Fortune held so high in majesty,<br/> +Well oughte men thy piteous death complain.<br/> +Out of thy land thy brother made thee flee,<br/> +And after, at a siege, by subtlety,<br/> +Thou wert betray’d, and led unto his tent,<br/> +Where as he with his owen hand slew thee,<br/> +Succeeding in thy regne* and in thy rent.** *kingdom *revenues +</p> + +<p> +The field of snow, with th’ eagle of black therein,<br/> +Caught with the lion, red-colour’d as the glede,* *burning coal<br/> +He brew’d this cursedness,* and all this sin; *wickedness, villainy<br/> +The wicked nest was worker of this deed;<br/> +Not Charles’ Oliver, <29> that took aye heed<br/> +Of truth and honour, but of Armorike<br/> +Ganilien Oliver, corrupt for meed,* *reward, bribe<br/> +Broughte this worthy king in such a brike.* *breach, ruin +</p> + +<p> +O worthy PETRO, King of CYPRE <30> also,<br/> +That Alexandre won by high mast’ry,<br/> +Full many a heathnen wroughtest thou full woe,<br/> +Of which thine owen lieges had envy;<br/> +And, for no thing but for thy chivalry,<br/> +They in thy bed have slain thee by the morrow;<br/> +Thus can Fortune her wheel govern and gie,* *guide<br/> +And out of joy bringe men into sorrow. +</p> + +<p> +Of Milan greate BARNABO VISCOUNT,<30><br/> +God of delight, and scourge of Lombardy,<br/> +Why should I not thine clomben* wert so high? *climbed<br/> +Thy brother’s son, that was thy double ally,<br/> +For he thy nephew was and son-in-law,<br/> +Within his prison made thee to die,<br/> +But why, nor how, *n’ot I* that thou were slaw.* *I know not* *slain* +</p> + +<p> +Of th’ Earl HUGOLIN OF PISE the languour* *agony<br/> +There may no tongue telle for pity.<br/> +But little out of Pisa stands a tow’r,<br/> +In whiche tow’r in prison put was he,<br/> +Aud with him be his little children three;<br/> +The eldest scarcely five years was of age;<br/> +Alas! Fortune, it was great cruelty<br/> +Such birdes for to put in such a cage. +</p> + +<p> +Damned was he to die in that prison;<br/> +For Roger, which that bishop was of Pise,<br/> +Had on him made a false suggestion,<br/> +Through which the people gan upon him rise,<br/> +And put him in prison, in such a wise<br/> +As ye have heard; and meat and drink he had<br/> +So small, that well unneth* it might suffice, *scarcely<br/> +And therewithal it was full poor and bad. +</p> + +<p> +And on a day befell, that in that hour<br/> +When that his meate wont was to be brought,<br/> +The jailor shut the doores of the tow’r;<br/> +He heard it right well, but he spake nought.<br/> +And in his heart anon there fell a thought,<br/> +That they for hunger woulde *do him dien;* *cause him to die*<br/> +“Alas!” quoth he, “alas that I was wrought!”* *made, born<br/> +Therewith the teares fell from his eyen. +</p> + +<p> +His youngest son, that three years was of age,<br/> +Unto him said, “Father, why do ye weep?<br/> +When will the jailor bringen our pottage?<br/> +Is there no morsel bread that ye do keep?<br/> +I am so hungry, that I may not sleep.<br/> +Now woulde God that I might sleepen ever!<br/> +Then should not hunger in my wombe* creep; *stomach<br/> +There is no thing, save bread, that one were lever.”* *dearer +</p> + +<p> +Thus day by day this child begun to cry,<br/> +Till in his father’s barme* adown he lay, *lap<br/> +And saide, “Farewell, father, I must die;”<br/> +And kiss’d his father, and died the same day.<br/> +And when the woeful father did it sey,* *see<br/> +For woe his armes two he gan to bite,<br/> +And said, “Alas! Fortune, and well-away!<br/> +To thy false wheel my woe all may I wite.”* *blame +</p> + +<p> +His children ween’d that it for hunger was<br/> +That he his armes gnaw’d, and not for woe,<br/> +And saide, “Father, do not so, alas!<br/> +But rather eat the flesh upon us two.<br/> +Our flesh thou gave us, our flesh take us fro’,<br/> +And eat enough;” right thus they to him said.<br/> +And after that, within a day or two,<br/> +They laid them in his lap adown, and died. +</p> + +<p> +Himself, despaired, eke for hunger starf.* *died<br/> +Thus ended is this Earl of Pise;<br/> +From high estate Fortune away him carf.* *cut off<br/> +Of this tragedy it ought enough suffice<br/> +Whoso will hear it *in a longer wise,* *at greater length*<br/> +Reade the greate poet of ltale,<br/> +That Dante hight, for he can it devise <32><br/> +From point to point, not one word will he fail. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Monk’s Tale +</p> + +<p> +1. The Monk’s Tale is founded in its main features on +Bocccacio’s work, “De Casibus Virorum Illustrium;” (“Stories +of Illustrious Men”) but Chaucer has taken the separate stories +of which it is composed from different authors, and dealt with +them after his own fashion. +</p> + +<p> + 2. Boccaccio opens his book with Adam, whose story is told at +much greater length than here. Lydgate, in his translation from +Boccaccio, speaks of Adam and Eve as made “of slime of the +erth in Damascene the felde.” +</p> + +<p> +3. Judges xiii. 3. Boccaccio also tells the story of Samson; but +Chaucer seems, by his quotation a few lines below, to have +taken his version direct from the sacred book. +</p> + +<p> +4. Oliveres: olive trees; French, “oliviers.” +</p> + +<p> +5. “Liber Judicum,” the Book of Judges; chap. xv. +</p> + +<p> +6. Querne: mill; from Anglo-Saxon, “cyrran,” to turn, +“cweorn,” a mill, +</p> + +<p> +7.Harpies: the Stymphalian Birds, which fed on human flesh. +</p> + +<p> +8. Busiris, king of Egypt, was wont to sacrifice all foreigners +coming to his dominions. Hercules was seized, bound, and led +to the altar by his orders, but the hero broke his bonds and slew +the tyrant. +</p> + +<p> +9. The feats of Hercules here recorded are not all these known +as the “twelve labours;” for instance, the cleansing of the +Augean stables, and the capture of Hippolyte’s girdle are not in +this list — other and less famous deeds of the hero taking their +place. For this, however, we must accuse not Chaucer, but +Boethius, whom he has almost literally translated, though with +some change of order. +</p> + +<p> +10. Trophee: One of the manuscripts has a marginal reference +to “Tropheus vates Chaldaeorum” (“Tropheus the prophet of +the Chaldees”); but it is not known what author Chaucer meant +— unless the reference is to a passage in the “Filostrato” of +Boccaccio, on which Chaucer founded his “Troilus and +Cressida,” and which Lydgate mentions, under the name of +“Trophe,” as having been translated by Chaucer. +</p> + +<p> +11. Pres: near; French, “pres;” the meaning seems to be, this +nearer, lower world. +</p> + +<p> +12 Chaucer has taken the story of Zenobia from Boccaccio’s +work “De Claris Mulieribus.” (“Of Illustrious Women”) +</p> + +<p> +13. Odenatus, who, for his services to the Romans, received +from Gallienus the title of “Augustus;” he was assassinated in +A.D. 266 — not, it was believed, without the connivance of +Zenobia, who succeeded him on the throne. +</p> + +<p> +14. Sapor was king of Persia, who made the Emperor Valerian +prisoner, conquered Syria, and was pressing triumphantly +westward when he was met and defeated by Odenatus and +Zenobia. +</p> + +<p> +15. Aurelain became Emperor in A.D. 270. +</p> + +<p> +16. Vitremite: The signification of this word, which is spelled +in several ways, is not known. Skinner’s explanation, “another +attire,” founded on the spelling “autremite,” is obviously +insufficient. +</p> + +<p> +17. Great part of this “tragedy” of Nero is really borrowed, +however, from the “Romance of the Rose.” +</p> + +<p> +18. Trice: thrust; from Anglo-Saxon, “thriccan.” +</p> + +<p> +19. So, in the Man of Law’s Tale, the Sultaness promises her +son that she will “reny her lay.” +</p> + +<p> +20. As the “tragedy” of Holofernes is founded on the book of +Judith, so is that of Antiochus on the Second Book of the +Maccabees, chap. ix. +</p> + +<p> +21. By the insurgents under the leadership of Judas Maccabeus; +2 Macc. chap. viii. +</p> + +<p> +22. Six: the highest cast on a dicing-cube; here representing the +highest favour of fortune. +</p> + +<p> +23. Pompey had married his daughter Julia to Caesar; but she +died six years before Pompey’s final overthrow. +</p> + +<p> +24. At the battle of Pharsalia, B.C. 48. +</p> + +<p> +25. Word and end: apparently a corruption of the Anglo-Saxon +phrase, “ord and end,” meaning the whole, the beginning and +the end. +</p> + +<p> +26. At the opening of the story of Croesus, Chaucer has copied +from his own translation of Boethius; but the story is mainly +taken from the “Romance of the Rose” +</p> + +<p> +27. “This reflection,” says Tyrwhttt, “seems to have been +suggested by one which follows soon after the mention of +Croesus in the passage just cited from Boethius. ‘What other +thing bewail the cryings of tragedies but only the deeds of +fortune, that with an awkward stroke, overturneth the realms of +great nobley?’” — in some manuscripts the four “tragedies” that +follow are placed between those of Zenobia and Nero; but +although the general reflection with which the “tragedy” of +Croesus closes might most appropriately wind up the whole +series, the general chronological arrangement which is observed +in the other cases recommends the order followed in the text. +Besides, since, like several other Tales, the Monk’s tragedies +were cut short by the impatience of the auditors, it is more +natural that the Tale should close abruptly, than by such a +rhetorical finish as these lines afford. +</p> + +<p> +28. Pedro the Cruel, King of Aragon, against whom his brother +Henry rebelled. He was by false pretences inveigled into his +brother’s tent, and treacherously slain. Mr Wright has remarked +that “the cause of Pedro, though he was no better than a cruel +and reckless tyrant, was popular in England from the very +circumstance that Prince Edward (the Black Prince) had +embarked in it.” +</p> + +<p> +29. Not the Oliver of Charlemagne — but a traitorous Oliver of +Armorica, corrupted by a bribe. Ganilion was the betrayer of +the Christian army at Roncevalles (see note 9 to the Shipman’s +Tale); and his name appears to have been for a long time used in +France to denote a traitor. Duguesclin, who betrayed Pedro into +his brother’s tent, seems to be intended by the term “Ganilion +Oliver,” but if so, Chaucer has mistaken his name, which was +Bertrand — perhaps confounding him, as Tyrwhttt suggests, +with Oliver du Clisson, another illustrious Breton of those +times, who was also Constable of France, after Duguesclin. The +arms of the latter are supposed to be described a little above +</p> + +<p> +30. Pierre de Lusignan, King of Cyprus, who captured +Alexandria in 1363 (see note 6 to the Prologue to the Tales). +He was assassinated in 1369. +</p> + +<p> +31. Bernabo Visconti, Duke of Milan, was deposed and +imprisoned by his nephew, and died a captive in 1385. His death +is the latest historical fact mentioned in the Tales; and thus it +throws the date of their composition to about the sixtieth year +of Chaucer’s age. +</p> + +<p> +32. The story of Ugolino is told in the 33rd Canto of the +“Inferno.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap24"></a>THE NUN’S PRIEST’S TALE.</h2> + +<h3>THE PROLOGUE.</h3> + +<p> +“Ho!” quoth the Knight, “good sir, no more of this;<br/> +That ye have said is right enough, y-wis,* *of a surety<br/> +And muche more; for little heaviness<br/> +Is right enough to muche folk, I guess.<br/> +I say for me, it is a great disease,* *source of distress, annoyance<br/> +Where as men have been in great wealth and ease,<br/> +To hearen of their sudden fall, alas!<br/> +And the contrary is joy and great solas,* *delight, comfort<br/> +As when a man hath been in poor estate,<br/> +And climbeth up, and waxeth fortunate,<br/> +And there abideth in prosperity;<br/> +Such thing is gladsome, as it thinketh me,<br/> +And of such thing were goodly for to tell.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yea,” quoth our Hoste, “by Saint Paule’s bell.<br/> +Ye say right sooth; this monk hath clapped* loud; *talked<br/> +He spake how Fortune cover’d with a cloud<br/> +I wot not what, and als’ of a tragedy<br/> +Right now ye heard: and pardie no remedy<br/> +It is for to bewaile, nor complain<br/> +That that is done, and also it is pain,<br/> +As ye have said, to hear of heaviness.<br/> +Sir Monk, no more of this, so God you bless;<br/> +Your tale annoyeth all this company;<br/> +Such talking is not worth a butterfly,<br/> +For therein is there no sport nor game;<br/> +Therefore, Sir Monke, Dan Piers by your name,<br/> +I pray you heart’ly, tell us somewhat else,<br/> +For sickerly, n’ere* clinking of your bells, *were it not for the<br/> +That on your bridle hang on every side,<br/> +By heaven’s king, that for us alle died,<br/> +I should ere this have fallen down for sleep,<br/> +Although the slough had been never so deep;<br/> +Then had your tale been all told in vain.<br/> +For certainly, as these clerkes sayn,<br/> +Where as a man may have no audience,<br/> +Nought helpeth it to telle his sentence.<br/> +And well I wot the substance is in me,<br/> +If anything shall well reported be.<br/> +Sir, say somewhat of hunting, <1> I you pray.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nay,” quoth the Monk, “I have *no lust to play;* *no fondness for<br/> +Now let another tell, as I have told.” jesting*<br/> +Then spake our Host with rude speech and bold,<br/> +And said unto the Nunne’s Priest anon,<br/> +“Come near, thou Priest, come hither, thou Sir John, <2><br/> +Tell us such thing as may our heartes glade.* *gladden<br/> +Be blithe, although thou ride upon a jade.<br/> +What though thine horse be bothe foul and lean?<br/> +If he will serve thee, reck thou not a bean;<br/> +Look that thine heart be merry evermo’.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Host,” quoth he, “so may I ride or go,<br/> +But* I be merry, y-wis I will be blamed.” *unless<br/> +And right anon his tale he hath attamed* *commenced <3><br/> +And thus he said unto us every one,<br/> +This sweete priest, this goodly man, Sir John. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Prologue to the Nun’s Priest’s Tale +</p> + +<p> +1. The request is justified by the description of Monk in the +Prologue as “an out-rider, that loved venery.” +</p> + +<p> +2. On this Tyrwhitt remarks; “I know not how it has happened, +that in the principal modern languages, John, or its equivalent, +is a name of contempt or at least of slight. So the Italians use +‘Gianni,’ from whence ‘Zani;’ the Spaniards ‘Juan,’ as ‘Bobo +Juan,’ a foolish John; the French ‘Jean,’ with various additions; +and in English, when we call a man ‘a John,’ we do not mean it +as a title of honour.” The title of “Sir” was usually given by +courtesy to priests. +</p> + +<p> +3. Attamed: commenced, broached. Compare French, “entamer”, +to cut the first piece off a joint; thence to begin. +</p> + +<h3>THE TALE. <1></h3> + +<p> +A poor widow, *somedeal y-stept* in age, *somewhat advanced*<br/> +Was whilom dwelling in a poor cottage,<br/> +Beside a grove, standing in a dale.<br/> +This widow, of which I telle you my tale,<br/> +Since thilke day that she was last a wife,<br/> +In patience led a full simple life,<br/> +For little was *her chattel and her rent.* *her goods and her income*<br/> +By husbandry* of such as God her sent, *thrifty management<br/> +She found* herself, and eke her daughters two. *maintained<br/> +Three large sowes had she, and no mo’;<br/> +Three kine, and eke a sheep that highte Mall.<br/> +Full sooty was her bow’r,* and eke her hall, *chamber<br/> +In which she ate full many a slender meal.<br/> +Of poignant sauce knew she never a deal.* *whit<br/> +No dainty morsel passed through her throat;<br/> +Her diet was *accordant to her cote.* *in keeping with her cottage*<br/> +Repletion her made never sick;<br/> +Attemper* diet was all her physic, *moderate<br/> +And exercise, and *hearte’s suffisance.* *contentment of heart*<br/> +The goute *let her nothing for to dance,* *did not prevent her<br/> +Nor apoplexy shente* not her head. from dancing* *hurt<br/> +No wine drank she, neither white nor red:<br/> +Her board was served most with white and black,<br/> +Milk and brown bread, in which she found no lack,<br/> +Seind* bacon, and sometimes an egg or tway; *singed<br/> +For she was as it were *a manner dey.* *kind of day labourer* <2><br/> +A yard she had, enclosed all about<br/> +With stickes, and a drye ditch without,<br/> +In which she had a cock, hight Chanticleer;<br/> +In all the land of crowing *n’as his peer.* *was not his equal*<br/> +His voice was merrier than the merry orgon,* *organ <3><br/> +On masse days that in the churches gon.<br/> +Well sickerer* was his crowing in his lodge, *more punctual*<br/> +Than is a clock, or an abbay horloge.* *clock <4><br/> +By nature he knew each ascension<br/> +Of th’ equinoctial in thilke town;<br/> +For when degrees fiftene were ascended,<br/> +Then crew he, that it might not be amended.<br/> +His comb was redder than the fine coral,<br/> +Embattell’d <5> as it were a castle wall.<br/> +His bill was black, and as the jet it shone;<br/> +Like azure were his legges and his tone;* *toes<br/> +His nailes whiter than the lily flow’r,<br/> +And like the burnish’d gold was his colour,<br/> +This gentle cock had in his governance<br/> +Sev’n hennes, for to do all his pleasance,<br/> +Which were his sisters and his paramours,<br/> +And wondrous like to him as of colours.<br/> +Of which the fairest-hued in the throat<br/> +Was called Damoselle Partelote,<br/> +Courteous she was, discreet, and debonair,<br/> +And companiable,* and bare herself so fair, *sociable<br/> +Since the day that she sev’n night was old,<br/> +That truely she had the heart in hold<br/> +Of Chanticleer, locked in every lith;* *limb<br/> +He lov’d her so, that well was him therewith,<br/> +But such a joy it was to hear them sing,<br/> +When that the brighte sunne gan to spring,<br/> +In sweet accord, *“My lefe is fare in land.”* <6> *my love is<br/> +For, at that time, as I have understand, gone abroad*<br/> +Beastes and birdes coulde speak and sing. +</p> + +<p> +And so befell, that in a dawening,<br/> +As Chanticleer among his wives all<br/> +Sat on his perche, that was in the hall,<br/> +And next him sat this faire Partelote,<br/> +This Chanticleer gan groanen in his throat,<br/> +As man that in his dream is dretched* sore, *oppressed<br/> +And when that Partelote thus heard him roar,<br/> +She was aghast,* and saide, “Hearte dear, *afraid<br/> +What aileth you to groan in this mannere?<br/> +Ye be a very sleeper, fy for shame!”<br/> +And he answer’d and saide thus; “Madame,<br/> +I pray you that ye take it not agrief;* *amiss, in umbrage<br/> +By God, *me mette* I was in such mischief,** *I dreamed* **trouble<br/> +Right now, that yet mine heart is sore affright’.<br/> +Now God,” quoth he, “my sweven* read aright *dream, vision.<br/> +And keep my body out of foul prisoun.<br/> +*Me mette,* how that I roamed up and down *I dreamed*<br/> +Within our yard, where as I saw a beast<br/> +Was like an hound, and would have *made arrest* *siezed*<br/> +Upon my body, and would have had me dead.<br/> +His colour was betwixt yellow and red;<br/> +And tipped was his tail, and both his ears,<br/> +With black, unlike the remnant of his hairs.<br/> +His snout was small, with glowing eyen tway;<br/> +Yet of his look almost for fear I dey;* *died<br/> +This caused me my groaning, doubteless.” +</p> + +<p> +“Away,” <7> quoth she, “fy on you, hearteless!* *coward<br/> +Alas!” quoth she, “for, by that God above!<br/> +Now have ye lost my heart and all my love;<br/> +I cannot love a coward, by my faith.<br/> +For certes, what so any woman saith,<br/> +We all desiren, if it mighte be,<br/> +To have husbandes hardy, wise, and free,<br/> +And secret,* and no niggard nor no fool, *discreet<br/> +Nor him that is aghast* of every tool,** *afraid **rag, trifle<br/> +Nor no avantour,* by that God above! *braggart<br/> +How durste ye for shame say to your love<br/> +That anything might make you afear’d?<br/> +Have ye no manne’s heart, and have a beard?<br/> +Alas! and can ye be aghast of swevenes?* *dreams<br/> +Nothing but vanity, God wot, in sweven is,<br/> +Swevens *engender of repletions,* *are caused by over-eating*<br/> +And oft of fume,* and of complexions, *drunkenness<br/> +When humours be too abundant in a wight.<br/> +Certes this dream, which ye have mette tonight,<br/> +Cometh of the great supefluity<br/> +Of youre rede cholera,* pardie, *bile<br/> +Which causeth folk to dreaden in their dreams<br/> +Of arrows, and of fire with redde beams,<br/> +Of redde beastes, that they will them bite,<br/> +Of conteke,* and of whelpes great and lite;** *contention **little<br/> +Right as the humour of melancholy<br/> +Causeth full many a man in sleep to cry,<br/> +For fear of bulles, or of beares blake,<br/> +Or elles that black devils will them take,<br/> +Of other humours could I tell also,<br/> +That worke many a man in sleep much woe;<br/> +That I will pass as lightly as I can.<br/> +Lo, Cato, which that was so wise a man,<br/> +Said he not thus, *‘Ne do no force of* dreams,’<8> *attach no weight to*<br/> +Now, Sir,” quoth she, “when we fly from these beams,<br/> +For Godde’s love, as take some laxatife;<br/> +On peril of my soul, and of my life,<br/> +I counsel you the best, I will not lie,<br/> +That both of choler, and melancholy,<br/> +Ye purge you; and, for ye shall not tarry,<br/> +Though in this town is no apothecary,<br/> +I shall myself two herbes teache you,<br/> +That shall be for your health, and for your prow;* *profit<br/> +And in our yard the herbes shall I find,<br/> +The which have of their property by kind* *nature<br/> +To purge you beneath, and eke above.<br/> +Sire, forget not this for Godde’s love;<br/> +Ye be full choleric of complexion;<br/> +Ware that the sun, in his ascension,<br/> +You finde not replete of humours hot;<br/> +And if it do, I dare well lay a groat,<br/> +That ye shall have a fever tertiane,<br/> +Or else an ague, that may be your bane,<br/> +A day or two ye shall have digestives<br/> +Of wormes, ere ye take your laxatives,<br/> +Of laurel, centaury, <9> and fumeterere, <10><br/> +Or else of elder-berry, that groweth there,<br/> +Of catapuce, <11> or of the gaitre-berries, <12><br/> +Or herb ivy growing in our yard, that merry is:<br/> +Pick them right as they grow, and eat them in,<br/> +Be merry, husband, for your father’s kin;<br/> +Dreade no dream; I can say you no more.” +</p> + +<p> +“Madame,” quoth he, “grand mercy of your lore,<br/> +But natheless, as touching *Dan Catoun,* *Cato<br/> +That hath of wisdom such a great renown,<br/> +Though that he bade no dreames for to dread,<br/> +By God, men may in olde bookes read<br/> +Of many a man more of authority<br/> +Than ever Cato was, so may I the,* *thrive<br/> +That all the reverse say of his sentence,* *opinion<br/> +And have well founden by experience<br/> +That dreames be significations<br/> +As well of joy, as tribulations<br/> +That folk enduren in this life present.<br/> +There needeth make of this no argument;<br/> +The very preve* sheweth it indeed. *trial, experience<br/> +One of the greatest authors that men read <13><br/> +Saith thus, that whilom two fellowes went<br/> +On pilgrimage in a full good intent;<br/> +And happen’d so, they came into a town<br/> +Where there was such a congregatioun<br/> +Of people, and eke so *strait of herbergage,* *without lodging*<br/> +That they found not as much as one cottage<br/> +In which they bothe might y-lodged be:<br/> +Wherefore they musten of necessity,<br/> +As for that night, departe company;<br/> +And each of them went to his hostelry,* *inn<br/> +And took his lodging as it woulde fall.<br/> +The one of them was lodged in a stall,<br/> +Far in a yard, with oxen of the plough;<br/> +That other man was lodged well enow,<br/> +As was his aventure, or his fortune,<br/> +That us governeth all, as in commune.<br/> +And so befell, that, long ere it were day,<br/> +This man mette* in his bed, there: as he lay, *dreamed<br/> +How that his fellow gan upon him call,<br/> +And said, ‘Alas! for in an ox’s stall<br/> +This night shall I be murder’d, where I lie<br/> +Now help me, deare brother, or I die;<br/> +In alle haste come to me,’ he said.<br/> +This man out of his sleep for fear abraid;* *started<br/> +But when that he was wak’d out of his sleep,<br/> +He turned him, and *took of this no keep;* *paid this no attention*<br/> +He thought his dream was but a vanity.<br/> +Thus twies* in his sleeping dreamed he, *twice<br/> +And at the thirde time yet his fellaw again<br/> +Came, as he thought, and said, ‘I am now slaw;* *slain<br/> +Behold my bloody woundes, deep and wide.<br/> +Arise up early, in the morning, tide,<br/> +And at the west gate of the town,’ quoth he,<br/> +‘A carte full of dung there shalt: thou see,<br/> +In which my body is hid privily.<br/> +Do thilke cart arroste* boldely. *stop<br/> +My gold caused my murder, sooth to sayn.’<br/> +And told him every point how he was slain,<br/> +With a full piteous face, and pale of hue. +</p> + +<p> +“And, truste well, his dream he found full true;<br/> +For on the morrow, as soon as it was day,<br/> +To his fellowes inn he took his way;<br/> +And when that he came to this ox’s stall,<br/> +After his fellow he began to call.<br/> +The hostelere answered him anon,<br/> +And saide, ‘Sir, your fellow is y-gone,<br/> +As soon as day he went out of the town.’<br/> +This man gan fallen in suspicioun,<br/> +Rememb’ring on his dreames that he mette,* *dreamed<br/> +And forth he went, no longer would he let,* *delay<br/> +Unto the west gate of the town, and fand* *found<br/> +A dung cart, as it went for to dung land,<br/> +That was arrayed in the same wise<br/> +As ye have heard the deade man devise;* *describe<br/> +And with an hardy heart he gan to cry,<br/> +‘Vengeance and justice of this felony:<br/> +My fellow murder’d in this same night<br/> +And in this cart he lies, gaping upright.<br/> +I cry out on the ministers,’ quoth he.<br/> +‘That shoulde keep and rule this city;<br/> +Harow! alas! here lies my fellow slain.’<br/> +What should I more unto this tale sayn?<br/> +The people out start, and cast the cart to ground<br/> +And in the middle of the dung they found<br/> +The deade man, that murder’d was all new.<br/> +O blissful God! that art so good and true,<br/> +Lo, how that thou bewray’st murder alway.<br/> +Murder will out, that see we day by day.<br/> +Murder is so wlatsom* and abominable *loathsome<br/> +To God, that is so just and reasonable,<br/> +That he will not suffer it heled* be; *concealed <14><br/> +Though it abide a year, or two, or three,<br/> +Murder will out, this is my conclusioun,<br/> +And right anon, the ministers of the town<br/> +Have hent* the carter, and so sore him pined,** *seized **tortured<br/> +And eke the hostelere so sore engined,* *racked<br/> +That they beknew* their wickedness anon, *confessed<br/> +And were hanged by the necke bone. +</p> + +<p> +“Here may ye see that dreames be to dread.<br/> +And certes in the same book I read,<br/> +Right in the nexte chapter after this<br/> +(I gabbe* not, so have I joy and bliss), *talk idly<br/> +Two men that would, have passed over sea,<br/> +For certain cause, into a far country,<br/> +If that the wind not hadde been contrary,<br/> +That made them in a city for to tarry,<br/> +That stood full merry upon an haven side;<br/> +But on a day, against the even-tide,<br/> +The wind gan change, and blew right *as them lest.* *as they wished*<br/> +Jolly and glad they wente to their rest,<br/> +And caste* them full early for to sail. *resolved<br/> +But to the one man fell a great marvail<br/> +That one of them, in sleeping as he lay,<br/> +He mette* a wondrous dream, against the day: *dreamed<br/> +He thought a man stood by his bedde’s side,<br/> +And him commanded that he should abide;<br/> +And said him thus; ‘If thou to-morrow wend,<br/> +Thou shalt be drown’d; my tale is at an end.’<br/> +He woke, and told his follow what he mette,<br/> +And prayed him his voyage for to let;* *delay<br/> +As for that day, he pray’d him to abide.<br/> +His fellow, that lay by his bedde’s side,<br/> +Gan for to laugh, and scorned him full fast.<br/> +‘No dream,’ quoth he,’may so my heart aghast,* *frighten<br/> +That I will lette* for to do my things.* *delay<br/> +I sette not a straw by thy dreamings,<br/> +For swevens* be but vanities and japes.** *dreams **jokes,deceits<br/> +Men dream all day of owles and of apes,<br/> +And eke of many a maze* therewithal; *wild imagining<br/> +Men dream of thing that never was, nor shall.<br/> +But since I see, that thou wilt here abide,<br/> +And thus forslothe* wilfully thy tide,** *idle away **time<br/> +God wot, *it rueth me;* and have good day.’ *I am sorry for it*<br/> +And thus he took his leave, and went his way.<br/> +But, ere that he had half his course sail’d,<br/> +I know not why, nor what mischance it ail’d,<br/> +But casually* the ship’s bottom rent, *by accident<br/> +And ship and man under the water went,<br/> +In sight of other shippes there beside<br/> +That with him sailed at the same tide. +</p> + +<p> +“And therefore, faire Partelote so dear,<br/> +By such examples olde may’st thou lear,* *learn<br/> +That no man shoulde be too reckeless<br/> +Of dreames, for I say thee doubteless,<br/> +That many a dream full sore is for to dread.<br/> +Lo, in the life of Saint Kenelm <15> I read,<br/> +That was Kenulphus’ son, the noble king<br/> +Of Mercenrike, <16> how Kenelm mette a thing.<br/> +A little ere he was murder’d on a day,<br/> +His murder in his vision he say.* *saw<br/> +His norice* him expounded every deal** *nurse **part<br/> +His sweven, and bade him to keep* him well *guard<br/> +For treason; but he was but seven years old,<br/> +And therefore *little tale hath he told* *he attached little<br/> +Of any dream, so holy was his heart. significance to*<br/> +By God, I hadde lever than my shirt<br/> +That ye had read his legend, as have I.<br/> +Dame Partelote, I say you truely,<br/> +Macrobius, that wrote the vision<br/> +In Afric’ of the worthy Scipion, <17><br/> +Affirmeth dreames, and saith that they be<br/> +‘Warnings of thinges that men after see.<br/> +And furthermore, I pray you looke well<br/> +In the Old Testament, of Daniel,<br/> +If he held dreames any vanity.<br/> +Read eke of Joseph, and there shall ye see<br/> +Whether dreams be sometimes (I say not all)<br/> +Warnings of thinges that shall after fall.<br/> +Look of Egypt the king, Dan Pharaoh,<br/> +His baker and his buteler also,<br/> +Whether they felte none effect* in dreams. *significance<br/> +Whoso will seek the acts of sundry remes* *realms<br/> +May read of dreames many a wondrous thing.<br/> +Lo Croesus, which that was of Lydia king,<br/> +Mette he not that he sat upon a tree,<br/> +Which signified he shoulde hanged be? <18><br/> +Lo here, Andromache, Hectore’s wife, <19><br/> +That day that Hector shoulde lose his life,<br/> +She dreamed on the same night beforn,<br/> +How that the life of Hector should be lorn,* *lost<br/> +If thilke day he went into battaile;<br/> +She warned him, but it might not avail;<br/> +He wente forth to fighte natheless,<br/> +And was y-slain anon of Achilles.<br/> +But thilke tale is all too long to tell;<br/> +And eke it is nigh day, I may not dwell.<br/> +Shortly I say, as for conclusion,<br/> +That I shall have of this avision<br/> +Adversity; and I say furthermore,<br/> +That I ne *tell of laxatives no store,* *hold laxatives<br/> +For they be venomous, I wot it well; of no value*<br/> +I them defy,* I love them never a del.** *distrust **whit +</p> + +<p> +“But let us speak of mirth, and stint* all this; *cease<br/> +Madame Partelote, so have I bliss,<br/> +Of one thing God hath sent me large* grace; liberal<br/> +For when I see the beauty of your face,<br/> +Ye be so scarlet-hued about your eyen,<br/> +I maketh all my dreade for to dien,<br/> +For, all so sicker* as In principio,<20> *certain<br/> +Mulier est hominis confusio.<21><br/> +Madam, the sentence* of of this Latin is, *meaning<br/> +Woman is manne’s joy and manne’s bliss.<br/> +For when I feel at night your softe side, —<br/> +Albeit that I may not on you ride,<br/> +For that our perch is made so narrow, Alas!<br/> +I am so full of joy and of solas,* *delight<br/> +That I defy both sweven and eke dream.”<br/> +And with that word he flew down from the beam,<br/> +For it was day, and eke his hennes all;<br/> +And with a chuck he gan them for to call,<br/> +For he had found a corn, lay in the yard.<br/> +Royal he was, he was no more afear’d;<br/> +He feather’d Partelote twenty time,<br/> +And as oft trode her, ere that it was prime.<br/> +He looked as it were a grim lion,<br/> +And on his toes he roamed up and down;<br/> +He deigned not to set his feet to ground;<br/> +He chucked, when he had a corn y-found,<br/> +And to him ranne then his wives all.<br/> +Thus royal, as a prince is in his hall,<br/> +Leave I this Chanticleer in his pasture;<br/> +And after will I tell his aventure. +</p> + +<p> +When that the month in which the world began,<br/> +That highte March, when God first maked man,<br/> +Was complete, and y-passed were also,<br/> +Since March ended, thirty days and two,<br/> +Befell that Chanticleer in all his pride,<br/> +His seven wives walking him beside,<br/> +Cast up his eyen to the brighte sun,<br/> +That in the sign of Taurus had y-run<br/> +Twenty degrees and one, and somewhat more;<br/> +He knew by kind,* and by none other lore,** *nature **learning<br/> +That it was prime, and crew with blissful steven.* *voice<br/> +“The sun,” he said, “is clomben up in heaven<br/> +Twenty degrees and one, and more y-wis.* *assuredly<br/> +Madame Partelote, my worlde’s bliss,<br/> +Hearken these blissful birdes how they sing,<br/> +And see the freshe flowers how they spring;<br/> +Full is mine heart of revel and solace.”<br/> +But suddenly him fell a sorrowful case;* *casualty<br/> +For ever the latter end of joy is woe:<br/> +God wot that worldly joy is soon y-go:<br/> +And, if a rhetor* coulde fair indite, *orator<br/> +He in a chronicle might it safely write,<br/> +As for *a sov’reign notability* *a thing supremely notable*<br/> +Now every wise man, let him hearken me;<br/> +This story is all as true, I undertake,<br/> +As is the book of Launcelot du Lake,<br/> +That women hold in full great reverence.<br/> +Now will I turn again to my sentence. +</p> + +<p> +A col-fox, <22> full of sly iniquity,<br/> +That in the grove had wonned* yeares three, *dwelt<br/> +By high imagination forecast,<br/> +The same night thorough the hedges brast* *burst<br/> +Into the yard, where Chanticleer the fair<br/> +Was wont, and eke his wives, to repair;<br/> +And in a bed of wortes* still he lay, *cabbages<br/> +Till it was passed undern <23> of the day,<br/> +Waiting his time on Chanticleer to fall:<br/> +As gladly do these homicides all,<br/> +That in awaite lie to murder men.<br/> +O false murd’rer! Rouking* in thy den! *crouching, lurking<br/> +O new Iscariot, new Ganilion! <24><br/> +O false dissimuler, O Greek Sinon,<25><br/> +That broughtest Troy all utterly to sorrow!<br/> +O Chanticleer! accursed be the morrow<br/> +That thou into thy yard flew from the beams;* *rafters<br/> +Thou wert full well y-warned by thy dreams<br/> +That thilke day was perilous to thee.<br/> +But what that God forewot* must needes be, *foreknows<br/> +After th’ opinion of certain clerkes.<br/> +Witness on him that any perfect clerk is,<br/> +That in school is great altercation<br/> +In this matter, and great disputation,<br/> +And hath been of an hundred thousand men.<br/> +But I ne cannot *boult it to the bren,* *examine it thoroughly <26>*<br/> +As can the holy doctor Augustine,<br/> +Or Boece, or the bishop Bradwardine,<27><br/> +Whether that Godde’s worthy foreweeting* *foreknowledge<br/> +*Straineth me needly* for to do a thing *forces me*<br/> +(Needly call I simple necessity),<br/> +Or elles if free choice be granted me<br/> +To do that same thing, or do it not,<br/> +Though God forewot* it ere that it was wrought; *knew in advance<br/> +Or if *his weeting straineth never a deal,* *his knowing constrains<br/> +But by necessity conditionel. not at all*<br/> +I will not have to do of such mattere;<br/> +My tale is of a cock, as ye may hear,<br/> +That took his counsel of his wife, with sorrow,<br/> +To walken in the yard upon the morrow<br/> +That he had mette the dream, as I you told.<br/> +Womane’s counsels be full often cold;* *mischievous, unwise<br/> +Womane’s counsel brought us first to woe,<br/> +And made Adam from Paradise to go,<br/> +There as he was full merry and well at case.<br/> +But, for I n’ot* to whom I might displease *know not<br/> +If I counsel of women woulde blame,<br/> +Pass over, for I said it in my game.* *jest<br/> +Read authors, where they treat of such mattere<br/> +And what they say of women ye may hear.<br/> +These be the cocke’s wordes, and not mine;<br/> +I can no harm of no woman divine.* *conjecture, imagine<br/> +Fair in the sand, to bathe* her merrily, *bask<br/> +Lies Partelote, and all her sisters by,<br/> +Against the sun, and Chanticleer so free<br/> +Sang merrier than the mermaid in the sea;<br/> +For Physiologus saith sickerly,* *certainly<br/> +How that they singe well and merrily. <28><br/> +And so befell that, as he cast his eye<br/> +Among the wortes,* on a butterfly, *cabbages<br/> +He was ware of this fox that lay full low.<br/> +Nothing *ne list him thenne* for to crow, *he had no inclination*<br/> +But cried anon “Cock! cock!” and up he start,<br/> +As man that was affrayed in his heart.<br/> +For naturally a beast desireth flee<br/> +From his contrary,* if be may it see, *enemy<br/> +Though he *ne’er erst* had soon it with his eye *never before*<br/> +This Chanticleer, when he gan him espy,<br/> +He would have fled, but that the fox anon<br/> +Said, “Gentle Sir, alas! why will ye gon?<br/> +Be ye afraid of me that am your friend?<br/> +Now, certes, I were worse than any fiend,<br/> +If I to you would harm or villainy.<br/> +I am not come your counsel to espy.<br/> +But truely the cause of my coming<br/> +Was only for to hearken how ye sing;<br/> +For truely ye have as merry a steven,* *voice<br/> +As any angel hath that is in heaven;<br/> +Therewith ye have of music more feeling,<br/> +Than had Boece, or any that can sing.<br/> +My lord your father (God his soule bless)<br/> +And eke your mother of her gentleness,<br/> +Have in mnine house been, to my great ease:* *satisfaction<br/> +And certes, Sir, full fain would I you please.<br/> +But, for men speak of singing, I will say,<br/> +So may I brooke* well mine eyen tway, *enjoy, possess, or use<br/> +Save you, I hearde never man so sing<br/> +As did your father in the morrowning.<br/> +Certes it was of heart all that he sung.<br/> +And, for to make his voice the more strong,<br/> +He would *so pain him,* that with both his eyen *make such an exertion*<br/> +He muste wink, so loud he woulde cryen,<br/> +And standen on his tiptoes therewithal,<br/> +And stretche forth his necke long and small.<br/> +And eke he was of such discretion,<br/> +That there was no man, in no region,<br/> +That him in song or wisdom mighte pass.<br/> +I have well read in Dan Burnel the Ass, <29><br/> +Among his verse, how that there was a cock<br/> +That, for* a prieste’s son gave him a knock *because<br/> +Upon his leg, while he was young and nice,* *foolish<br/> +He made him for to lose his benefice.<br/> +But certain there is no comparison<br/> +Betwixt the wisdom and discretion<br/> +Of youre father, and his subtilty.<br/> +Now singe, Sir, for sainte charity,<br/> +Let see, can ye your father counterfeit?” +</p> + +<p> +This Chanticleer his wings began to beat,<br/> +As man that could not his treason espy,<br/> +So was he ravish’d with his flattery.<br/> +Alas! ye lordes, many a false flattour* *flatterer <30><br/> +Is in your court, and many a losengeour, * *deceiver <31><br/> +That please you well more, by my faith,<br/> +Than he that soothfastness* unto you saith. *truth<br/> +Read in Ecclesiast’ of flattery;<br/> +Beware, ye lordes, of their treachery.<br/> +This Chanticleer stood high upon his toes,<br/> +Stretching his neck, and held his eyen close,<br/> +And gan to crowe loude for the nonce<br/> +And Dan Russel <32> the fox start up at once,<br/> +And *by the gorge hente* Chanticleer, *seized by the throat*<br/> +And on his back toward the wood him bare.<br/> +For yet was there no man that him pursu’d.<br/> +O destiny, that may’st not be eschew’d!* *escaped<br/> +Alas, that Chanticleer flew from the beams!<br/> +Alas, his wife raughte* nought of dreams! *regarded<br/> +And on a Friday fell all this mischance.<br/> +O Venus, that art goddess of pleasance,<br/> +Since that thy servant was this Chanticleer<br/> +And in thy service did all his powere,<br/> +More for delight, than the world to multiply,<br/> +Why wilt thou suffer him on thy day to die?<br/> +O Gaufrid, deare master sovereign, <33><br/> +That, when thy worthy king Richard was slain<br/> +With shot, complainedest his death so sore,<br/> +Why n’had I now thy sentence and thy lore,<br/> +The Friday for to chiden, as did ye?<br/> +(For on a Friday, soothly, slain was he),<br/> +Then would I shew you how that I could plain* *lament<br/> +For Chanticleere’s dread, and for his pain. +</p> + +<p> +Certes such cry nor lamentation<br/> +Was ne’er of ladies made, when Ilion<br/> +Was won, and Pyrrhus with his straighte sword,<br/> +When he had hent* king Priam by the beard, *seized<br/> +And slain him (as saith us Eneidos*),<34> *The Aeneid<br/> +As maden all the hennes in the close,* *yard<br/> +When they had seen of Chanticleer the sight.<br/> +But sov’reignly* Dame Partelote shright,** *above all others<br/> +Full louder than did Hasdrubale’s wife, **shrieked<br/> +When that her husband hadde lost his life,<br/> +And that the Romans had y-burnt Carthage;<br/> +She was so full of torment and of rage,<br/> +That wilfully into the fire she start,<br/> +And burnt herselfe with a steadfast heart.<br/> +O woeful hennes! right so cried ye,<br/> +As, when that Nero burned the city<br/> +Of Rome, cried the senatores’ wives,<br/> +For that their husbands losten all their lives;<br/> +Withoute guilt this Nero hath them slain.<br/> +Now will I turn unto my tale again; +</p> + +<p> +The sely* widow, and her daughters two, *simple, honest<br/> +Hearde these hennes cry and make woe,<br/> +And at the doors out started they anon,<br/> +And saw the fox toward the wood is gone,<br/> +And bare upon his back the cock away:<br/> +They cried, “Out! harow! and well-away!<br/> +Aha! the fox!” and after him they ran,<br/> +And eke with staves many another man<br/> +Ran Coll our dog, and Talbot, and Garland;<br/> +And Malkin, with her distaff in her hand<br/> +Ran cow and calf, and eke the very hogges<br/> +So fear’d they were for barking of the dogges,<br/> +And shouting of the men and women eke.<br/> +They ranne so, them thought their hearts would break.<br/> +They yelled as the fiendes do in hell;<br/> +The duckes cried as men would them quell;* *kill, destroy<br/> +The geese for feare flewen o’er the trees,<br/> +Out of the hive came the swarm of bees,<br/> +So hideous was the noise, ben’dicite!<br/> +Certes he, Jacke Straw,<35> and his meinie,* *followers<br/> +Ne made never shoutes half so shrill<br/> +When that they woulden any Fleming kill,<br/> +As thilke day was made upon the fox.<br/> +Of brass they broughte beames* and of box, *trumpets <36><br/> +Of horn and bone, in which they blew and pooped,* **tooted<br/> +And therewithal they shrieked and they hooped;<br/> +It seemed as the heaven shoulde fall +</p> + +<p> +Now, goode men, I pray you hearken all;<br/> +Lo, how Fortune turneth suddenly<br/> +The hope and pride eke of her enemy.<br/> +This cock, that lay upon the fox’s back,<br/> +In all his dread unto the fox he spake,<br/> +And saide, “Sir, if that I were as ye,<br/> +Yet would I say (as wisly* God help me), *surely<br/> +‘Turn ye again, ye proude churles all;<br/> +A very pestilence upon you fall.<br/> +Now am I come unto the woode’s side,<br/> +Maugre your head, the cock shall here abide;<br/> +I will him eat, in faith, and that anon.’”<br/> +The fox answer’d, “In faith it shall be done:”<br/> +And, as he spake the word, all suddenly<br/> +The cock brake from his mouth deliverly,* *nimbly<br/> +And high upon a tree he flew anon.<br/> +And when the fox saw that the cock was gone,<br/> +“Alas!” quoth he, “O Chanticleer, alas!<br/> +I have,” quoth he, “y-done to you trespass,* *offence<br/> +Inasmuch as I maked you afear’d,<br/> +When I you hent,* and brought out of your yard; *took<br/> +But, Sir, I did it in no wick’ intent;<br/> +Come down, and I shall tell you what I meant.<br/> +I shall say sooth to you, God help me so.”<br/> +“Nay then,” quoth he, “I shrew* us both the two, *curse<br/> +And first I shrew myself, both blood and bones,<br/> +If thou beguile me oftener than once.<br/> +Thou shalt no more through thy flattery<br/> +Do* me to sing and winke with mine eye; *cause<br/> +For he that winketh when he shoulde see,<br/> +All wilfully, God let him never the.”* *thrive<br/> +“Nay,” quoth the fox; “but God give him mischance<br/> +That is so indiscreet of governance,<br/> +That jangleth* when that he should hold his peace.” *chatters +</p> + +<p> +Lo, what it is for to be reckeless<br/> +And negligent, and trust on flattery.<br/> +But ye that holde this tale a folly,<br/> +As of a fox, or of a cock or hen,<br/> +Take the morality thereof, good men.<br/> +For Saint Paul saith, That all that written is,<br/> +*To our doctrine it written is y-wis.* <37> *is surely written for<br/> +Take the fruit, and let the chaff be still. our instruction* +</p> + +<p> +Now goode God, if that it be thy will,<br/> +As saith my Lord, <38> so make us all good men;<br/> +And bring us all to thy high bliss. Amen. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Nun’s Priest’s Tale +</p> + +<p> +1. The Tale of the Nun’s Priest is founded on the fifth chapter +of an old French metrical “Romance of Renard;” the same story +forming one of the fables of Marie, the translator of the Breton +Lays. (See note 2 to the Prologue to the Franklin’s Tale.) +Although Dryden was in error when he ascribed the Tale to +Chaucer’s own invention, still the materials on which he had to +operate were out of cornparison more trivial than the result. +</p> + +<p> +2. Tyrwhitt quotes two statutes of Edward III, in which “deys” +are included among the servants employed in agricultural +pursuits; the name seems to have originally meant a servant who +gave his labour by the day, but afterwards to have been +appropriated exclusively to one who superintended or worked +in a dairy. +</p> + +<p> +3. Orgon: here licentiously used for the plural, “organs” or +“orgons,” corresponding to the plural verb “gon” in the next +line. +</p> + +<p> +4. Horloge: French, “clock.” +</p> + +<p> +5. Embattell’d: indented on the upper edge like the battlements +of a castle. +</p> + +<p> +6. My lefe is fare in land: This seems to have been the refrain of +some old song, and its precise meaning is uncertain. It +corresponds in cadence with the morning salutation of the cock; +and may be taken as a greeting to the sun, which is beloved of +Chanticleer, and has just come upon the earth — or in the sense +of a more local boast, as vaunting the fairness of his favourite +hen above all others in the country round. +</p> + +<p> +Transcriber’s note: Later commentators explain “fare in land” as +“gone abroad” and have identified the song: +</p> + +<p> +My lefe is fare in lond<br/> +Alas! Why is she so?<br/> +And I am so sore bound<br/> +I may not come her to.<br/> +She hath my heart in hold<br/> +Where ever she ride or go<br/> +With true love a thousand-fold. +</p> + +<p> +(Printed in The Athenaeum, 1896, Vol II, p. 566). +</p> + +<p> +7. “Avoi!” is the word here rendered “away!” It was frequently +used in the French fabliaux, and the Italians employ the word +“via!” in the same sense. +</p> + +<p> +8. “Ne do no force of dreams:” “Somnia ne cares;” — Cato +“De Moribus,” 1 ii, dist. 32 +</p> + +<p> +9. Centaury: the herb so called because by its virtue the centaur +Chiron was healed when the poisoned arrow of Hercules had +accidentally wounded his foot. +</p> + +<p> +10. Fumetere: the herb “fumitory.” +</p> + +<p> +11. Catapuce: spurge; a plant of purgative qualities. To its +name in the text correspond the Italian “catapuzza,” and French +“catapuce” — words the origin of which is connected with the +effects of the plant. +</p> + +<p> +12. Gaitre-berries: dog-wood berries. +</p> + +<p> +13. One of the greatest authors that men read: Cicero, who in +his book “De Divinatione” tells this and the following story, +though in contrary order and with many differences. +</p> + +<p> +14. Haled or hylled; from Anglo-Saxon “helan” hid, concealed +</p> + +<p> +15. Kenelm succeeded his father as king of the Saxon realm of +Mercia in 811, at the age of seven years; but he was slain by his +ambitious aunt Quendrada. The place of his burial was +miraculously discovered, and he was subsequently elevated to +the rank of a saint and martyr. His life is in the English “Golden +Legend.” +</p> + +<p> +16. Mercenrike: the kingdom of Mercia; Anglo-Saxon, +Myrcnarice. Compare the second member of the compound in +the German, “Frankreich,” France; “Oesterreich,” Austria. +</p> + +<p> +17. Cicero (“De Republica,” lib. vi.) wrote the Dream of +Scipio, in which the Younger relates the appearance of the +Elder Africanus, and the counsels and exhortations which the +shade addressed to the sleeper. Macrobius wrote an elaborate +“Commentary on the Dream of Scipio,” — a philosophical +treatise much studied and relished during the Middle Ages. +</p> + +<p> +18. See the Monk’s Tale for this story. +</p> + +<p> +19. Andromache’s dream will not be found in Homer; It is +related in the book of the fictitious Dares Phrygius, the most +popular authority during the Middle Ages for the history of the +Trojan War. +</p> + +<p> +20. In principio: In the beginning; the first words of Genesis and +of the Gospel of John. +</p> + +<p> +21. Mulier est hominis confusio: This line is taken from the +same fabulous conference between the Emperor Adrian and the +philosopher Secundus, whence Chaucer derived some of the +arguments in praise of poverty employed in the Wife of Bath’s +Tale proper. See note 14 to the Wife of Bath’s tale. The +passage transferred to the text is the commencement of a +description of woman. “Quid est mulier? hominis confusio,” &c. +(“What is Woman? A union with man”, &c.) +</p> + +<p> +22. Col-fox: a blackish fox, so called because of its likeness to +coal, according to Skinner; though more probably the prefix has +a reproachful meaning, and is in some way connected with the +word “cold” as, some forty lines below, it is applied to the +prejudicial counsel of women, and as frequently it is used to +describe “sighs” and other tokens of grief, and “cares” or +“anxieties.” +</p> + +<p> +23. Undern: In this case, the meaning of “evening” or +“afternoon” can hardly be applied to the word, which must be +taken to signify some early hour of the forenoon. See also note +4 to the Wife of Bath’s tale and note 5 to the Clerk’s Tale. +</p> + +<p> +24. Ganilion: a traitor. See note 9 to the Shipman’s Tale and +note 28 to the Monk’s Tale. +</p> + +<p> +25. Greek Sinon: The inventor of the Trojan Horse. See note 14 +to the Squire’s Tale +</p> + +<p> +26. Boult it from the bren: Examine the matter thoroughly; a +metaphor taken from the sifting of meal, to divide the fine flour +from the bran. +</p> + +<p> +27. Thomas Bradwardine, Archbishop of Canterbury in the +thirteenth century, who wrote a book, “De Causa Dei,” in +controversy with Pelagius; and also numerous other treatises, +among them some on predestination. +</p> + +<p> +28. In a popular mediaveal Latin treatise by one Theobaldus, +entitled “Physiologus de Naturis XII. Animalium” (“A +description of the nature of twelve animals”), sirens or +mermaids are described as skilled in song, and drawing unwary +mariners to destruction by the sweetness of their voices. +</p> + +<p> +29. “Nigellus Wireker,” says Urry’s Glossary, “a monk and +precentor of Canterbury, wrote a Latin poem intituled +‘Speculum Speculorum,’ (‘The mirror of mirrors’) dedicated to +William Longchamp, Bishop of Ely, and Lord Chancellor; +wherein, under the fable of an Ass (which he calls ‘Burnellus’) +that desired a longer tail, is represented the folly of such as are +not content with their own condition. There is introduced a tale +of a cock, who having his leg broke by a priest’s son (called +Gundulfus) watched an opportunity to be revenged; which at +last presented itself on this occasion: A day was appointed for +Gundulfus’s being admitted into holy orders at a place remote +from his father’s habitation; he therefore orders the servants to +call him at first cock-crowing, which the cock overhearing did +not crow at all that morning. So Gundulfus overslept himself, +and was thereby disappointed of his ordination, the office being +quite finished before he came to the place.” Wireker’s satire was +among the most celebrated and popular Latin poems of the +Middle Ages. The Ass was probably as Tyrwhitt suggests, +called “Burnel” or “Brunel,” from his brown colour; as, a little +below, a reddish fox is called “Russel.” +</p> + +<p> +30. Flattour: flatterer; French, “flatteur.” +</p> + +<p> +31. Losengeour: deceiver, cozener; the word had analogues in +the French “losengier,” and the Spanish “lisongero.” It is +probably connected with “leasing,” falsehood; which has been +derived from Anglo-Saxon “hlisan,” to celebrate — as if it meant +the spreading of a false renown +</p> + +<p> +32. Dan Russel: Master Russet; a name given to the fox, from +his reddish colour. +</p> + +<p> +33. Geoffrey de Vinsauf was the author of a well-known +mediaeval treatise on composition in various poetical styles of +which he gave examples. Chaucer’s irony is therefore directed +against some grandiose and affected lines on the death of +Richard I., intended to illustrate the pathetic style, in which +Friday is addressed as “O Veneris lachrymosa dies” (“O tearful +day of Venus”). +</p> + +<p> +34. “Priamum altaria ad ipsa trementem +Traxit, et in multo lapsantem sanguine nati +Implicuitque comam laeva, dextraque coruscum +Extulit, ac lateri capulo tenus abdidit ensem. +Haec finis Priami fatorum.” +(“He dragged Priam trembling to his own altar, slipping on the +blood of his child; He took his hair in his left hand, and with the +right drew the flashing sword, and hid it to the hilt [in his body]. +Thus an end was made of Priam”) +— Virgil, Aeneid. ii. 550. +</p> + +<p> +35. Jack Straw: The leader of a Kentish rising, in the reign of +Richard II, in 1381, by which the Flemish merchants in London +were great sufferers. +</p> + +<p> +36. Beams: trumpets; Anglo-Saxon, “bema.” +</p> + +<p> +37. “All scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is +profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for +instruction in righteousness: that the man of God may be +perfect, throughly furnished unto all good works.” — 2 Tim. iii. +16. +</p> + +<p> +THE EPILOGUE <1> +</p> + +<p> +“Sir Nunne’s Priest,” our hoste said anon,<br/> +“Y-blessed be thy breech, and every stone;<br/> +This was a merry tale of Chanticleer.<br/> +But by my truth, if thou wert seculere,* *a layman<br/> +Thou wouldest be a treadefowl* aright; *cock<br/> +For if thou have courage as thou hast might,<br/> +Thee were need of hennes, as I ween,<br/> +Yea more than seven times seventeen.<br/> +See, whate brawnes* hath this gentle priest, *muscles, sinews<br/> +So great a neck, and such a large breast<br/> +He looketh as a sperhawk with his eyen<br/> +Him needeth not his colour for to dyen<br/> +With Brazil, nor with grain of Portugale.<br/> +But, Sir, faire fall you for your tale’.”<br/> +And, after that, he with full merry cheer<br/> +Said to another, as ye shall hear. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Epilogue to the Nun’s Priest’s Tale +</p> + +<p> +1. The sixteen lines appended to the Tale of the Nun’s Priest +seem, as Tyrwhitt observes, to commence the prologue to the +succeeding Tale — but the difficulty is to determine which that +Tale should be. In earlier editions, the lines formed the opening +of the prologue to the Manciple’s Tale; but most of the +manuscripts acknowledge themselves defective in this part, and +give the Nun’s Tale after that of the Nun’s Priest. In the Harleian +manuscript, followed by Mr Wright, the second Nun’s Tale, and +the Canon’s Yeoman’s Tale, are placed after the Franklin’s tale; +and the sixteen lines above are not found — the Manciple’s +prologue coming immediately after the “Amen” of the Nun’s +Priest. In two manuscripts, the last line of the sixteen runs thus: +“Said unto the Nun as ye shall hear;” and six lines more +evidently forged, are given to introduce the Nun’s Tale. All this +confusion and doubt only strengthen the certainty, and deepen +the regret, that “The Canterbury Tales” were left at Chaucer’s, +death not merely very imperfect as a whole, but destitute of +many finishing touches that would have made them complete so +far as the conception had actually been carried into +performance. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap25"></a>THE SECOND NUN’S TALE <1></h2> + +<p> +The minister and norice* unto vices, *nurse<br/> +Which that men call in English idleness,<br/> +The porter at the gate is of delices;* *delights<br/> +T’eschew, and by her contrar’ her oppress, —<br/> +That is to say, by lawful business,* — *occupation, activity<br/> +Well oughte we to *do our all intent* *apply ourselves*<br/> +Lest that the fiend through idleness us hent.* *seize +</p> + +<p> +For he, that with his thousand cordes sly<br/> +Continually us waiteth to beclap,* *entangle, bind<br/> +When he may man in idleness espy,<br/> +He can so lightly catch him in his trap,<br/> +Till that a man be hent* right by the lappe,** *seize **hem<br/> +He is not ware the fiend hath him in hand;<br/> +Well ought we work, and idleness withstand. +</p> + +<p> +And though men dreaded never for to die,<br/> +Yet see men well by reason, doubteless,<br/> +That idleness is root of sluggardy,<br/> +Of which there cometh never good increase;<br/> +And see that sloth them holdeth in a leas,* *leash <2><br/> +Only to sleep, and for to eat and drink,<br/> +And to devouren all that others swink.* *labour +</p> + +<p> +And, for to put us from such idleness,<br/> +That cause is of so great confusion,<br/> +I have here done my faithful business,<br/> +After the Legend, in translation<br/> +Right of thy glorious life and passion, —<br/> +Thou with thy garland wrought of rose and lily,<br/> +Thee mean I, maid and martyr, Saint Cecilie. +</p> + +<p> +And thou, thou art the flow’r of virgins all,<br/> +Of whom that Bernard list so well to write, <3><br/> +To thee at my beginning first I call;<br/> +Thou comfort of us wretches, do me indite<br/> +Thy maiden’s death, that won through her merite<br/> +Th’ eternal life, and o’er the fiend victory,<br/> +As man may after readen in her story. +</p> + +<p> +Thou maid and mother, daughter of thy Son,<br/> +Thou well of mercy, sinful soules’ cure,<br/> +In whom that God of bounte chose to won;* *dwell<br/> +Thou humble and high o’er every creature,<br/> +Thou nobilest, *so far forth our nature,* *as far as our nature admits*<br/> +That no disdain the Maker had of kind,* *nature<br/> +His Son in blood and flesh to clothe and wind.* *wrap +</p> + +<p> +Within the cloister of thy blissful sides<br/> +Took manne’s shape th’ eternal love and peace,<br/> +That of *the trine compass* Lord and guide is *the trinity*<br/> +Whom earth, and sea, and heav’n, *out of release,* *unceasingly<br/> +*Aye hery;* and thou, Virgin wemmeless,* *forever praise* *immaculate<br/> +Bare of thy body, and dweltest maiden pure,<br/> +The Creator of every creature. +</p> + +<p> +Assembled is in thee magnificence <4><br/> +With mercy, goodness, and with such pity,<br/> +That thou, that art the sun of excellence,<br/> +Not only helpest them that pray to thee,<br/> +But oftentime, of thy benignity,<br/> +Full freely, ere that men thine help beseech,<br/> +Thou go’st before, and art their lives’ leech.* *healer, saviour. +</p> + +<p> +Now help, thou meek and blissful faire maid,<br/> +Me, flemed* wretch, in this desert of gall; *banished, outcast<br/> +Think on the woman Cananee that said<br/> +That whelpes eat some of the crumbes all<br/> +That from their Lorde’s table be y-fall;<5><br/> +And though that I, unworthy son of Eve,<6><br/> +Be sinful, yet accepte my believe.* *faith +</p> + +<p> +And, for that faith is dead withoute werkes,<br/> +For to worke give me wit and space,<br/> +That I be *quit from thennes that most derk is;* *freed from the most<br/> +O thou, that art so fair and full of grace, dark place (Hell)*<br/> +Be thou mine advocate in that high place,<br/> +Where as withouten end is sung Osanne,<br/> +Thou Christe’s mother, daughter dear of Anne. +</p> + +<p> +And of thy light my soul in prison light,<br/> +That troubled is by the contagion<br/> +Of my body, and also by the weight<br/> +Of earthly lust and false affection;<br/> +O hav’n of refuge, O salvation<br/> +Of them that be in sorrow and distress,<br/> +Now help, for to my work I will me dress. +</p> + +<p> +Yet pray I you, that reade what I write, <6><br/> +Forgive me that I do no diligence<br/> +This ilke* story subtilly t’ indite. *same<br/> +For both have I the wordes and sentence<br/> +Of him that at the sainte’s reverence<br/> +The story wrote, and follow her legend;<br/> +And pray you that you will my work amend. +</p> + +<p> +First will I you the name of Saint Cecilie<br/> +Expound, as men may in her story see.<br/> +It is to say in English, Heaven’s lily,<7><br/> +For pure chasteness of virginity;<br/> +Or, for she whiteness had of honesty,* *purity<br/> +And green of conscience, and of good fame<br/> +The sweete savour, Lilie was her name. +</p> + +<p> +Or Cecilie is to say, the way of blind;<7><br/> +For she example was by good teaching;<br/> +Or else Cecilie, as I written find,<br/> +Is joined by a manner conjoining<br/> +Of heaven and Lia, <7> and herein figuring<br/> +The heaven is set for thought of holiness,<br/> +And Lia for her lasting business. +</p> + +<p> +Cecilie may eke be said in this mannere,<br/> +Wanting of blindness, for her greate light<br/> +Of sapience, and for her thewes* clear. *qualities<br/> +Or elles, lo, this maiden’s name bright<br/> +Of heaven and Leos <7> comes, for which by right<br/> +Men might her well the heaven of people call,<br/> +Example of good and wise workes all; +</p> + +<p> +For Leos people in English is to say;<br/> +And right as men may in the heaven see<br/> +The sun and moon, and starres every way,<br/> +Right so men ghostly,* in this maiden free, *spiritually<br/> +Sawen of faith the magnanimity,<br/> +And eke the clearness whole of sapience,<br/> +And sundry workes bright of excellence. +</p> + +<p> +And right so as these philosophers write,<br/> +That heav’n is swift and round, and eke burning,<br/> +Right so was faire Cecilie the white<br/> +Full swift and busy in every good working,<br/> +And round and whole in good persevering, <8><br/> +And burning ever in charity full bright;<br/> +Now have I you declared *what she hight.* *why she had her name* +</p> + +<p> +This maiden bright Cecile, as her life saith,<br/> +Was come of Romans, and of noble kind,<br/> +And from her cradle foster’d in the faith<br/> +Of Christ, and bare his Gospel in her mind:<br/> +She never ceased, as I written find,<br/> +Of her prayere, and God to love and dread,<br/> +Beseeching him to keep her maidenhead. +</p> + +<p> +And when this maiden should unto a man<br/> +Y-wedded be, that was full young of age,<br/> +Which that y-called was Valerian,<br/> +And come was the day of marriage,<br/> +She, full devout and humble in her corage,* *heart<br/> +Under her robe of gold, that sat full fair,<br/> +Had next her flesh y-clad her in an hair.* *garment of hair-cloth +</p> + +<p> +And while the organs made melody,<br/> +To God alone thus in her heart sang she;<br/> +“O Lord, my soul and eke my body gie* *guide<br/> +Unwemmed,* lest that I confounded be.” *unblemished<br/> +And, for his love that died upon the tree,<br/> +Every second or third day she fast’,<br/> +Aye bidding* in her orisons full fast. *praying +</p> + +<p> +The night came, and to bedde must she gon<br/> +With her husband, as it is the mannere;<br/> +And privily she said to him anon;<br/> +“O sweet and well-beloved spouse dear,<br/> +There is a counsel,* an’** ye will it hear, *secret **if<br/> +Which that right fain I would unto you say,<br/> +So that ye swear ye will it not bewray.”* *betray +</p> + +<p> +Valerian gan fast unto her swear<br/> +That for no case nor thing that mighte be,<br/> +He never should to none bewrayen her;<br/> +And then at erst* thus to him saide she; *for the first time<br/> +“I have an angel which that loveth me,<br/> +That with great love, whether I wake or sleep,<br/> +Is ready aye my body for to keep; +</p> + +<p> +“And if that he may feelen, *out of dread,* *without doubt*<br/> +That ye me touch or love in villainy,<br/> +He right anon will slay you with the deed,<br/> +And in your youthe thus ye shoulde die.<br/> +And if that ye in cleane love me gie,”* *guide<br/> +He will you love as me, for your cleanness,<br/> +And shew to you his joy and his brightness.” +</p> + +<p> +Valerian, corrected as God wo’ld,<br/> +Answer’d again, “If I shall truste thee,<br/> +Let me that angel see, and him behold;<br/> +And if that it a very angel be,<br/> +Then will I do as thou hast prayed me;<br/> +And if thou love another man, forsooth<br/> +Right with this sword then will I slay you both.” +</p> + +<p> +Cecile answer’d anon right in this wise;<br/> +“If that you list, the angel shall ye see,<br/> +So that ye trow* Of Christ, and you baptise; *know<br/> +Go forth to Via Appia,” quoth she,<br/> +That from this towne stands but miles three,<br/> +And to the poore folkes that there dwell<br/> +Say them right thus, as that I shall you tell, +</p> + +<p> +“Tell them, that I, Cecile, you to them sent<br/> +To shewe you the good Urban the old,<br/> +For secret needes,* and for good intent; *business<br/> +And when that ye Saint Urban have behold,<br/> +Tell him the wordes which I to you told<br/> +And when that he hath purged you from sin,<br/> +Then shall ye see that angel ere ye twin* *depart +</p> + +<p> +Valerian is to the place gone;<br/> +And, right as he was taught by her learning<br/> +He found this holy old Urban anon<br/> +Among the saintes’ burials louting;* *lying concealed <9><br/> +And he anon, withoute tarrying,<br/> +Did his message, and when that he it told,<br/> +Urban for joy his handes gan uphold. +</p> + +<p> +The teares from his eyen let he fall;<br/> +“Almighty Lord, O Jesus Christ,”<br/> +Quoth he, “Sower of chaste counsel, herd* of us all; *shepherd<br/> +The fruit of thilke* seed of chastity *that<br/> +That thou hast sown in Cecile, take to thee<br/> +Lo, like a busy bee, withoute guile,<br/> +Thee serveth aye thine owen thrall* Cicile, *servant +</p> + +<p> +“For thilke spouse, that she took *but now,* *lately*<br/> +Full like a fierce lion, she sendeth here,<br/> +As meek as e’er was any lamb to owe.”<br/> +And with that word anon there gan appear<br/> +An old man, clad in white clothes clear,<br/> +That had a book with letters of gold in hand,<br/> +And gan before Valerian to stand. +</p> + +<p> +Valerian, as dead, fell down for dread,<br/> +When he him saw; and he up hent* him tho,** *took **there<br/> +And on his book right thus he gan to read;<br/> +“One Lord, one faith, one God withoute mo’,<br/> +One Christendom, one Father of all also,<br/> +Aboven all, and over all everywhere.”<br/> +These wordes all with gold y-written were. +</p> + +<p> +When this was read, then said this olde man,<br/> +“Believ’st thou this or no? say yea or nay.”<br/> +“I believe all this,” quoth Valerian,<br/> +“For soother* thing than this, I dare well say, *truer<br/> +Under the Heaven no wight thinke may.”<br/> +Then vanish’d the old man, he wist not where<br/> +And Pope Urban him christened right there. +</p> + +<p> +Valerian went home, and found Cecilie<br/> +Within his chamber with an angel stand;<br/> +This angel had of roses and of lily<br/> +Corones* two, the which he bare in hand, *crowns<br/> +And first to Cecile, as I understand,<br/> +He gave the one, and after gan he take<br/> +The other to Valerian her make.* *mate, husband +</p> + +<p> +“With body clean, and with unwemmed* thought, *unspotted, blameless<br/> +Keep aye well these corones two,” quoth he;<br/> +“From Paradise to you I have them brought,<br/> +Nor ever more shall they rotten be,<br/> +Nor lose their sweet savour, truste me,<br/> +Nor ever wight shall see them with his eye,<br/> +But he be chaste, and hate villainy. +</p> + +<p> +“And thou, Valerian, for thou so soon<br/> +Assented hast to good counsel, also<br/> +Say what thee list,* and thou shalt have thy boon.”** *wish **desire<br/> +“I have a brother,” quoth Valerian tho,* *then<br/> +“That in this world I love no man so;<br/> +I pray you that my brother may have grace<br/> +To know the truth, as I do in this place.” +</p> + +<p> +The angel said, “God liketh thy request,<br/> +And bothe, with the palm of martyrdom,<br/> +Ye shalle come unto this blissful rest.”<br/> +And, with that word, Tiburce his brother came.<br/> +And when that he the savour undernome* *perceived<br/> +Which that the roses and the lilies cast,<br/> +Within his heart he gan to wonder fast; +</p> + +<p> +And said; “I wonder, this time of the year,<br/> +Whence that sweete savour cometh so<br/> +Of rose and lilies, that I smelle here;<br/> +For though I had them in mine handes two,<br/> +The savour might in me no deeper go;<br/> +The sweete smell, that in my heart I find,<br/> +Hath changed me all in another kind.” +</p> + +<p> +Valerian said, “Two crownes here have we,<br/> +Snow-white and rose-red, that shine clear,<br/> +Which that thine eyen have no might to see;<br/> +And, as thou smellest them through my prayere,<br/> +So shalt thou see them, leve* brother dear, *beloved<br/> +If it so be thou wilt withoute sloth<br/> +Believe aright, and know the very troth. “ +</p> + +<p> +Tiburce answered, “Say’st thou this to me<br/> +In soothness, or in dreame hear I this?”<br/> +“In dreames,” quoth Valorian, “have we be<br/> +Unto this time, brother mine, y-wis<br/> +But now *at erst* in truth our dwelling is.” *for the first time*<br/> +How know’st thou this,” quoth Tiburce; “in what wise?”<br/> +Quoth Valerian, “That shall I thee devise* *describe +</p> + +<p> +“The angel of God hath me the truth y-taught,<br/> +Which thou shalt see, if that thou wilt reny* *renounce<br/> +The idols, and be clean, and elles nought.”<br/> +[And of the miracle of these crownes tway<br/> +Saint Ambrose in his preface list to say;<br/> +Solemnely this noble doctor dear<br/> +Commendeth it, and saith in this mannere +</p> + +<p> +“The palm of martyrdom for to receive,<br/> +Saint Cecilie, full filled of God’s gift,<br/> +The world and eke her chamber gan to weive;* *forsake<br/> +Witness Tiburce’s and Cecilie’s shrift,* *confession<br/> +To which God of his bounty woulde shift<br/> +Corones two, of flowers well smelling,<br/> +And made his angel them the crownes bring. +</p> + +<p> +“The maid hath brought these men to bliss above;<br/> +The world hath wist what it is worth, certain,<br/> +Devotion of chastity to love.”] <10><br/> +Then showed him Cecilie all open and plain,<br/> +That idols all are but a thing in vain,<br/> +For they be dumb, and thereto* they be deave;** *therefore **deaf<br/> +And charged him his idols for to leave. +</p> + +<p> +“Whoso that troweth* not this, a beast he is,” *believeth<br/> +Quoth this Tiburce, “if that I shall not lie.”<br/> +And she gan kiss his breast when she heard this,<br/> +And was full glad he could the truth espy:<br/> +“This day I take thee for mine ally.”* *chosen friend<br/> +Saide this blissful faire maiden dear;<br/> +And after that she said as ye may hear. +</p> + +<p> +“Lo, right so as the love of Christ,” quoth she,<br/> +“Made me thy brother’s wife, right in that wise<br/> +Anon for mine ally here take I thee,<br/> +Since that thou wilt thine idoles despise.<br/> +Go with thy brother now and thee baptise,<br/> +And make thee clean, so that thou may’st behold<br/> +The angel’s face, of which thy brother told.” +</p> + +<p> +Tiburce answer’d, and saide, “Brother dear,<br/> +First tell me whither I shall, and to what man?”<br/> +“To whom?” quoth he, “come forth with goode cheer,<br/> +I will thee lead unto the Pope Urban.”<br/> +“To Urban? brother mine Valerian,”<br/> +Quoth then Tiburce; “wilt thou me thither lead?<br/> +Me thinketh that it were a wondrous deed. +</p> + +<p> +“Meanest thou not that Urban,” quoth he tho,* *then<br/> +“That is so often damned to be dead,<br/> +And wons* in halkes** always to and fro, *dwells **corners<br/> +And dare not ones putte forth his head?<br/> +Men should him brennen* in a fire so red, *burn<br/> +If he were found, or if men might him spy:<br/> +And us also, to bear him company. +</p> + +<p> +“And while we seeke that Divinity<br/> +That is y-hid in heaven privily,<br/> +Algate* burnt in this world should we be.” *nevertheless<br/> +To whom Cecilie answer’d boldely;<br/> +“Men mighte dreade well and skilfully* *reasonably<br/> +This life to lose, mine owen deare brother,<br/> +If this were living only, and none other. +</p> + +<p> +“But there is better life in other place,<br/> +That never shall be loste, dread thee nought;<br/> +Which Godde’s Son us tolde through his grace<br/> +That Father’s Son which alle thinges wrought;<br/> +And all that wrought is with a skilful* thought, *reasonable<br/> +The Ghost,* that from the Father gan proceed, *Holy Spirit<br/> +Hath souled* them, withouten any drede.** *endowed them with a soul<br/> + **doubt<br/> +By word and by miracle, high God’s Son,<br/> +When he was in this world, declared here.<br/> +That there is other life where men may won.”* *dwell<br/> +To whom answer’d Tiburce, “O sister dear,<br/> +Saidest thou not right now in this mannere,<br/> +There was but one God, Lord in soothfastness,* *truth<br/> +And now of three how may’st thou bear witness?” +</p> + +<p> +“That shall I tell,” quoth she, “ere that I go.<br/> +Right as a man hath sapiences* three, *mental faculties<br/> +Memory, engine,* and intellect also, *wit <11><br/> +So in one being of divinity<br/> +Three persones there maye right well be.”<br/> +Then gan she him full busily to preach<br/> +Of Christe’s coming, and his paines teach, +</p> + +<p> +And many pointes of his passion;<br/> +How Godde’s Son in this world was withhold* *employed<br/> +To do mankinde plein* remission, *full<br/> +That was y-bound in sin and cares cold.* *wretched <12><br/> +All this thing she unto Tiburce told,<br/> +And after that Tiburce, in good intent,<br/> +With Valerian to Pope Urban he went. +</p> + +<p> +That thanked God, and with glad heart and light<br/> +He christen’d him, and made him in that place<br/> +Perfect in his learning, and Godde’s knight.<br/> +And after this Tiburce got such grace,<br/> +That every day he saw in time and space<br/> +Th’ angel of God, and every manner boon* *request, favour<br/> +That be God asked, it was sped* full anon. *granted, successful +</p> + +<p> +It were full hard by order for to sayn<br/> +How many wonders Jesus for them wrought,<br/> +But at the last, to telle short and plain,<br/> +The sergeants of the town of Rome them sought,<br/> +And them before Almach the Prefect brought,<br/> +Which them apposed,* and knew all their intent, *questioned<br/> +And to th’image of Jupiter them sent. +</p> + +<p> +And said, “Whoso will not do sacrifice,<br/> +Swap* off his head, this is my sentence here.” *strike<br/> +Anon these martyrs, *that I you devise,* *of whom I tell you*<br/> +One Maximus, that was an officere<br/> +Of the prefect’s, and his corniculere <13><br/> +Them hent,* and when he forth the saintes lad,** *seized **led<br/> +Himself he wept for pity that he had. +</p> + +<p> +When Maximus had heard the saintes lore,* *doctrine, teaching<br/> +He got him of the tormentores* leave, *torturers<br/> +And led them to his house withoute more;<br/> +And with their preaching, ere that it were eve,<br/> +They gonnen* from the tormentors to reave,** *began **wrest, root out<br/> +And from Maxim’, and from his folk each one,<br/> +The false faith, to trow* in God alone. *believe +</p> + +<p> +Cecilia came, when it was waxen night,<br/> +With priestes, that them christen’d *all in fere;* *in a company*<br/> +And afterward, when day was waxen light,<br/> +Cecile them said with a full steadfast cheer,* *mien<br/> +“Now, Christe’s owen knightes lefe* and dear, *beloved<br/> +Cast all away the workes of darkness,<br/> +And arme you in armour of brightness. +</p> + +<p> +Ye have forsooth y-done a great battaile,<br/> +Your course is done, your faith have ye conserved; <14><br/> +O to the crown of life that may not fail;<br/> +The rightful Judge, which that ye have served<br/> +Shall give it you, as ye have it deserved.”<br/> +And when this thing was said, as I devise,* relate<br/> +Men led them forth to do the sacrifice. +</p> + +<p> +But when they were unto the place brought<br/> +To telle shortly the conclusion,<br/> +They would incense nor sacrifice right nought<br/> +But on their knees they sette them adown,<br/> +With humble heart and sad* devotion, *steadfast<br/> +And loste both their heades in the place;<br/> +Their soules wente to the King of grace. +</p> + +<p> +This Maximus, that saw this thing betide,<br/> +With piteous teares told it anon right,<br/> +That he their soules saw to heaven glide<br/> +With angels, full of clearness and of light<br/> +Andt with his word converted many a wight.<br/> +For which Almachius *did him to-beat* *see note <15>*<br/> +With whip of lead, till he his life gan lete.* *quit +</p> + +<p> +Cecile him took, and buried him anon<br/> +By Tiburce and Valerian softely,<br/> +Within their burying-place, under the stone.<br/> +And after this Almachius hastily<br/> +Bade his ministers fetchen openly<br/> +Cecile, so that she might in his presence<br/> +Do sacrifice, and Jupiter incense.* *burn incense to +</p> + +<p> +But they, converted at her wise lore,* *teaching<br/> +Wepte full sore, and gave full credence<br/> +Unto her word, and cried more and more;<br/> +“Christ, Godde’s Son, withoute difference,<br/> +Is very God, this is all our sentence,* *opinion<br/> +That hath so good a servant him to serve<br/> +Thus with one voice we trowe,* though we sterve.** *believe **die +</p> + +<p> +Almachius, that heard of this doing,<br/> +Bade fetch Cecilie, that he might her see;<br/> +And alderfirst,* lo, this was his asking; *first of all<br/> +“What manner woman arte thou?” quoth he,<br/> +“I am a gentle woman born,” quoth she.<br/> +“I aske thee,” quoth he,”though it thee grieve,<br/> +Of thy religion and of thy believe.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ye have begun your question foolishly,”<br/> +Quoth she, “that wouldest two answers conclude<br/> +In one demand? ye aske lewedly.”* *ignorantly<br/> +Almach answer’d to that similitude,<br/> +“Of whence comes thine answering so rude?”<br/> +“Of whence?” quoth she, when that she was freined,* *asked<br/> +“Of conscience, and of good faith unfeigned.” +</p> + +<p> +Almachius saide; “Takest thou no heed<br/> +Of my power?” and she him answer’d this;<br/> +“Your might,” quoth she, “full little is to dread;<br/> +For every mortal manne’s power is<br/> +But like a bladder full of wind, y-wis;* *certainly<br/> +For with a needle’s point, when it is blow’,<br/> +May all the boast of it be laid full low.” +</p> + +<p> +“Full wrongfully begunnest thou,” quoth he,<br/> +“And yet in wrong is thy perseverance.<br/> +Know’st thou not how our mighty princes free<br/> +Have thus commanded and made ordinance,<br/> +That every Christian wight shall have penance,* *punishment<br/> +But if that he his Christendom withsay,* *deny<br/> +And go all quit, if he will it renay?”* *renounce +</p> + +<p> +“Your princes erren, as your nobley* doth,” *nobility<br/> +Quoth then Cecile, “and with a *wood sentence* *mad judgment*<br/> +Ye make us guilty, and it is not sooth:* *true<br/> +For ye that knowe well our innocence,<br/> +Forasmuch as we do aye reverence<br/> +To Christ, and for we bear a Christian name,<br/> +Ye put on us a crime and eke a blame. +</p> + +<p> +“But we that knowe thilke name so<br/> +For virtuous, we may it not withsay.”<br/> +Almach answered, “Choose one of these two,<br/> +Do sacrifice, or Christendom renay,<br/> +That thou may’st now escape by that way.”<br/> +At which the holy blissful faire maid<br/> +Gan for to laugh, and to the judge said; +</p> + +<p> +“O judge, *confused in thy nicety,* *confounded in thy folly*<br/> +Wouldest thou that I reny innocence?<br/> +To make me a wicked wight,” quoth she,<br/> +“Lo, he dissimuleth* here in audience; *dissembles<br/> +He stareth and woodeth* in his advertence.”** *grows furious **thought<br/> +To whom Almachius said, “Unsely* wretch, *unhappy<br/> +Knowest thou not how far my might may stretch? +</p> + +<p> +“Have not our mighty princes to me given<br/> +Yea bothe power and eke authority<br/> +To make folk to dien or to liven?<br/> +Why speakest thou so proudly then to me?”<br/> +“I speake not but steadfastly,” quoth she,<br/> +Not proudly, for I say, as for my side,<br/> +We hate deadly* thilke vice of pride. *mortally +</p> + +<p> +“And, if thou dreade not a sooth* to hear, *truth<br/> +Then will I shew all openly by right,<br/> +That thou hast made a full great leasing* here. *falsehood<br/> +Thou say’st thy princes have thee given might<br/> +Both for to slay and for to quick* a wight, — *give life to<br/> +Thou that may’st not but only life bereave;<br/> +Thou hast none other power nor no leave. +</p> + +<p> +“But thou may’st say, thy princes have thee maked<br/> +Minister of death; for if thou speak of mo’,<br/> +Thou liest; for thy power is full naked.”<br/> +“Do away thy boldness,” said Almachius tho,* *then<br/> +“And sacrifice to our gods, ere thou go.<br/> +I recke not what wrong that thou me proffer,<br/> +For I can suffer it as a philosopher. +</p> + +<p> +“But those wronges may I not endure,<br/> +That thou speak’st of our goddes here,” quoth he.<br/> +Cecile answer’d, “O nice* creature, *foolish<br/> +Thou saidest no word, since thou spake to me,<br/> +That I knew not therewith thy nicety,* *folly<br/> +And that thou wert in *every manner wise* *every sort of way*<br/> +A lewed* officer, a vain justice. *ignorant +</p> + +<p> +“There lacketh nothing to thine outward eyen<br/> +That thou art blind; for thing that we see all<br/> +That it is stone, that men may well espyen,<br/> +That ilke* stone a god thou wilt it call. *very, selfsame<br/> +I rede* thee let thine hand upon it fall, *advise<br/> +And taste* it well, and stone thou shalt it find; *examine, test<br/> +Since that thou see’st not with thine eyen blind. +</p> + +<p> +“It is a shame that the people shall<br/> +So scorne thee, and laugh at thy folly;<br/> +For commonly men *wot it well over all,* *know it everywhere*<br/> +That mighty God is in his heaven high;<br/> +And these images, well may’st thou espy,<br/> +To thee nor to themselves may not profite,<br/> +For in effect they be not worth a mite.” +</p> + +<p> +These wordes and such others saide she,<br/> +And he wax’d wroth, and bade men should her lead<br/> +Home to her house; “And in her house,” quoth he,<br/> +“Burn her right in a bath, with flames red.”<br/> +And as he bade, right so was done the deed;<br/> +For in a bath they gan her faste shetten,* *shut, confine<br/> +And night and day great fire they under betten.* *kindled, applied +</p> + +<p> +The longe night, and eke a day also,<br/> +For all the fire, and eke the bathe’s heat,<br/> +She sat all cold, and felt of it no woe,<br/> +It made her not one droppe for to sweat;<br/> +But in that bath her life she must lete.* *leave<br/> +For he, Almachius, with full wick’ intent,<br/> +To slay her in the bath his sonde* sent. *message, order +</p> + +<p> +Three strokes in the neck he smote her tho,* *there<br/> +The tormentor,* but for no manner chance *executioner<br/> +He might not smite her faire neck in two:<br/> +And, for there was that time an ordinance<br/> +That no man should do man such penance,* *severity, torture<br/> +The fourthe stroke to smite, soft or sore,<br/> +This tormentor he durste do no more; +</p> + +<p> +But half dead, with her necke carven* there *gashed<br/> +He let her lie, and on his way is went.<br/> +The Christian folk, which that about her were,<br/> +With sheetes have the blood full fair y-hent; *taken up<br/> +Three dayes lived she in this torment,<br/> +And never ceased them the faith to teach,<br/> +That she had foster’d them, she gan to preach. +</p> + +<p> +And them she gave her mebles* and her thing, *goods<br/> +And to the Pope Urban betook* them tho;** *commended **then<br/> +And said, “I aske this of heaven’s king,<br/> +To have respite three dayes and no mo’,<br/> +To recommend to you, ere that I go,<br/> +These soules, lo; and that *I might do wirch* *cause to be made*<br/> +Here of mine house perpetually a church.” +</p> + +<p> +Saint Urban, with his deacons, privily<br/> +The body fetch’d, and buried it by night<br/> +Among his other saintes honestly;<br/> +Her house the church of Saint Cecilie hight;* *is called<br/> +Saint Urban hallow’d it, as he well might;<br/> +In which unto this day, in noble wise,<br/> +Men do to Christ and to his saint service. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Nun’s Priest’s Tale +</p> + +<p> +1. This Tale was originally composed by Chaucer as a separate +work, and as such it is mentioned in the “Legend of Good +Women” under the title of “The Life of Saint Cecile”. Tyrwhitt +quotes the line in which the author calls himself an “unworthy +son of Eve,” and that in which he says, “Yet pray I you, that +reade what I write”, as internal evidence that the insertion of the +poem in the Canterbury Tales was the result of an afterthought; +while the whole tenor of the introduction confirms the belief +that Chaucer composed it as a writer or translator — not, +dramatically, as a speaker. The story is almost literally +translated from the Life of St Cecilia in the “Legenda Aurea.” +</p> + +<p> +2. Leas: leash, snare; the same as “las,” oftener used by +Chaucer. +</p> + +<p> +3. The nativity and assumption of the Virgin Mary formed the +themes of some of St Bernard’s most eloquent sermons. +</p> + +<p> +4. Compare with this stanza the fourth stanza of the Prioress’s +Tale, the substance of which is the same. +</p> + +<p> +5. “But he answered and said, it is not meet to take the +children’s bread, and cast it to dogs. And she said, Truth, Lord: +yet the dogs eat of the crumbs which fall from their master’s +table.” — Matthew xv. 26, 27. +</p> + +<p> +6. See note 1. +</p> + +<p> +7. These are Latin puns: Heaven’s lily - “Coeli lilium”; The way +of blind - “Caeci via”; Heaven and Lia - from “Coeli”, heaven, +and “Ligo,” to bind; Heaven and Leos - from Coeli and “Laos,” +(Ionian Greek) or “Leos” (Attic Greek), the people. Such +punning derivations of proper names were very much in favour +in the Middle Ages. The explanations of St Cecilia’s name are +literally taken from the prologue to the Latin legend. +</p> + +<p> +8. This passage suggests Horace’s description of the wise man, +who, among other things, is “in se ipse totus, teres, atque +rotundus.” (“complete in himself, polished and rounded”) — +Satires, 2, vii. 80. +</p> + +<p> +9. Louting: lingering, or lying concealed; the Latin original has +“Inter sepulchra martyrum latiantem” (“hiding among the tombs +of martyrs”) +</p> + +<p> +10. The fourteen lines within brackets are supposed to have +been originally an interpolation in the Latin legend, from which +they are literally translated. They awkwardly interrupt the flow +of the narration. +</p> + +<p> +11. Engine: wit; the devising or constructive faculty; Latin, +“ingenium.” +</p> + +<p> +12. Cold: wretched, distressful; see note 22 to the Nun’s Priest’s +Tale. +</p> + +<p> +13. Corniculere: The secretary or registrar who was charged +with publishing the acts, decrees and orders of the prefect. +</p> + +<p> +14. “I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I +have kept the faith: Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown +of righteousness” — 2 Tim. iv. 7, 8. +</p> + +<p> +15. Did him to-beat: Caused him to be cruelly or fatally beaten; +the force of the “to” is intensive. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap26"></a>THE CANON’S YEOMAN’S TALE. <1></h2> + +<h3>THE PROLOGUE.</h3> + +<p> +WHEN ended was the life of Saint Cecile,<br/> +Ere we had ridden fully five mile, <2><br/> +At Boughton-under-Blee us gan o’ertake<br/> +A man, that clothed was in clothes black,<br/> +And underneath he wore a white surplice.<br/> +His hackenay,* which was all pomely-gris,** *nag **dapple-gray<br/> +So sweated, that it wonder was to see;<br/> +It seem’d as he had pricked* miles three. *spurred<br/> +The horse eke that his yeoman rode upon<br/> +So sweated, that unnethes* might he gon.** *hardly **go<br/> +About the peytrel <3> stood the foam full high;<br/> +He was of foam, as *flecked as a pie.* *spotted like a magpie*<br/> +A maile twyfold <4> on his crupper lay;<br/> +It seemed that he carried little array;<br/> +All light for summer rode this worthy man.<br/> +And in my heart to wonder I began<br/> +What that he was, till that I understood<br/> +How that his cloak was sewed to his hood;<br/> +For which, when I had long advised* me, *considered<br/> +I deemed him some Canon for to be.<br/> +His hat hung at his back down by a lace,* *cord<br/> +For he had ridden more than trot or pace;<br/> +He hadde pricked like as he were wood.* *mad<br/> +A clote-leaf* he had laid under his hood, * burdock-leaf<br/> +For sweat, and for to keep his head from heat.<br/> +But it was joye for to see him sweat;<br/> +His forehead dropped as a stillatory* *still<br/> +Were full of plantain or of paritory.* *wallflower<br/> +And when that he was come, he gan to cry,<br/> +“God save,” quoth he, “this jolly company.<br/> +Fast have I pricked,” quoth he, “for your sake,<br/> +Because that I would you overtake,<br/> +To riden in this merry company.”<br/> +His Yeoman was eke full of courtesy,<br/> +And saide, “Sirs, now in the morning tide<br/> +Out of your hostelry I saw you ride,<br/> +And warned here my lord and sovereign,<br/> +Which that to ride with you is full fain,<br/> +For his disport; he loveth dalliance.”<br/> +“Friend, for thy warning God give thee good chance,”* *fortune<br/> +Said oure Host; “certain it woulde seem<br/> +Thy lord were wise, and so I may well deem;<br/> +He is full jocund also, dare I lay;<br/> +Can he aught tell a merry tale or tway,<br/> +With which he gladden may this company?”<br/> +“Who, Sir? my lord? Yea, Sir, withoute lie,<br/> +He can* of mirth and eke of jollity *knows<br/> +*Not but* enough; also, Sir, truste me, *not less than*<br/> +An* ye him knew all so well as do I, *if<br/> +Ye would wonder how well and craftily<br/> +He coulde work, and that in sundry wise.<br/> +He hath take on him many a great emprise,* *task, undertaking<br/> +Which were full hard for any that is here<br/> +To bring about, but* they of him it lear.** *unless **learn<br/> +As homely as he rides amonges you,<br/> +If ye him knew, it would be for your prow:* *advantage<br/> +Ye woulde not forego his acquaintance<br/> +For muche good, I dare lay in balance<br/> +All that I have in my possession.<br/> +He is a man of high discretion.<br/> +I warn you well, he is a passing* man.” *surpassing, extraordinary<br/> +Well,” quoth our Host, “I pray thee tell me than,<br/> +Is he a clerk,* or no? Tell what he is.” *scholar, priest<br/> +“Nay, he is greater than a clerk, y-wis,”* *certainly<br/> +Saide this Yeoman; “and, in wordes few,<br/> +Host, of his craft somewhat I will you shew,<br/> +I say, my lord can* such a subtlety *knows<br/> +(But all his craft ye may not weet* of me, *learn<br/> +And somewhat help I yet to his working),<br/> +That all the ground on which we be riding<br/> +Till that we come to Canterbury town,<br/> +He could all cleane turnen up so down,<br/> +And pave it all of silver and of gold.”<br/> +And when this Yeoman had this tale told<br/> +Unto our Host, he said; “Ben’dicite!<br/> +This thing is wonder marvellous to me,<br/> +Since that thy lord is of so high prudence,<br/> +Because of which men should him reverence,<br/> +That of his worship* recketh he so lite;** *honour **little<br/> +His *overest slop* it is not worth a mite *upper garment*<br/> +As in effect to him, so may I go;<br/> +It is all baudy* and to-tore also. *slovenly<br/> +Why is thy lord so sluttish, I thee pray,<br/> +And is of power better clothes to bey,* *buy<br/> +If that his deed accordeth with thy speech?<br/> +Telle me that, and that I thee beseech.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why?” quoth this Yeoman, “whereto ask ye me?<br/> +God help me so, for he shall never the* *thrive<br/> +(But I will not avowe* that I say, *admit<br/> +And therefore keep it secret, I you pray);<br/> +He is too wise, in faith, as I believe.<br/> +Thing that is overdone, it will not preve* *stand the test<br/> +Aright, as clerkes say; it is a vice;<br/> +Wherefore in that I hold him *lewd and nice.”* *ignorant and foolish*<br/> +For when a man hath over great a wit,<br/> +Full oft him happens to misusen it;<br/> +So doth my lord, and that me grieveth sore.<br/> +God it amend; I can say now no more.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thereof *no force,* good Yeoman, “quoth our Host; *no matter*<br/> +“Since of the conning* of thy lord, thou know’st, *knowledge<br/> +Tell how he doth, I pray thee heartily,<br/> +Since that be is so crafty and so sly.* *wise<br/> +Where dwelle ye, if it to telle be?”<br/> +“In the suburbes of a town,” quoth he,<br/> +“Lurking in hernes* and in lanes blind, *corners<br/> +Where as these robbers and these thieves by kind* *nature<br/> +Holde their privy fearful residence,<br/> +As they that dare not show their presence,<br/> +So fare we, if I shall say the soothe.”* *truth<br/> +“Yet,” quoth our Hoste, “let me talke to thee;<br/> +Why art thou so discolour’d of thy face?”<br/> +“Peter!” quoth he, “God give it harde grace,<br/> +I am so us’d the hote fire to blow,<br/> +That it hath changed my colour, I trow;<br/> +I am not wont in no mirror to pry,<br/> +But swinke* sore, and learn to multiply. <5> *labour<br/> +We blunder* ever, and poren** in the fire, *toil **peer<br/> +And, for all that, we fail of our desire<br/> +For ever we lack our conclusion<br/> +To muche folk we do illusion,<br/> +And borrow gold, be it a pound or two,<br/> +Or ten or twelve, or many summes mo’,<br/> +And make them weenen,* at the leaste way, *fancy<br/> +That of a pounde we can make tway.<br/> +Yet is it false; and aye we have good hope<br/> +It for to do, and after it we grope:* *search, strive<br/> +But that science is so far us beforn,<br/> +That we may not, although we had it sworn,<br/> +It overtake, it slides away so fast;<br/> +It will us make beggars at the last.”<br/> +While this Yeoman was thus in his talking,<br/> +This Canon drew him near, and heard all thing<br/> +Which this Yeoman spake, for suspicion<br/> +Of menne’s speech ever had this Canon:<br/> +For Cato saith, that he that guilty is, <6><br/> +Deemeth all things be spoken of him y-wis;* *surely<br/> +Because of that he gan so nigh to draw<br/> +To his Yeoman, that he heard all his saw;<br/> +And thus he said unto his Yeoman tho* *then<br/> +“Hold thou thy peace,and speak no wordes mo’:<br/> +For if thou do, thou shalt *it dear abie.* *pay dearly for it*<br/> +Thou slanderest me here in this company<br/> +And eke discoverest that thou shouldest hide.”<br/> +“Yea,” quoth our Host, “tell on, whatso betide;<br/> +Of all his threatening reck not a mite.”<br/> +“In faith,” quoth he, “no more do I but lite.”* *little<br/> +And when this Canon saw it would not be<br/> +But his Yeoman would tell his privity,* *secrets<br/> +He fled away for very sorrow and shame. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” quoth the Yeoman, “here shall rise a game;* *some diversion<br/> +All that I can anon I will you tell,<br/> +Since he is gone; the foule fiend him quell!* *destroy<br/> +For ne’er hereafter will I with him meet,<br/> +For penny nor for pound, I you behete.* *promise<br/> +He that me broughte first unto that game,<br/> +Ere that he die, sorrow have he and shame.<br/> +For it is earnest* to me, by my faith; *a serious matter<br/> +That feel I well, what so any man saith;<br/> +And yet for all my smart, and all my grief,<br/> +For all my sorrow, labour, and mischief,* *trouble<br/> +I coulde never leave it in no wise.<br/> +Now would to God my witte might suffice<br/> +To tellen all that longeth to that art!<br/> +But natheless yet will I telle part;<br/> +Since that my lord is gone, I will not spare;<br/> +Such thing as that I know, I will declare.” +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Prologue to the Canon’s Yeoman’s Tale +</p> + +<p> +1. “The introduction,” says Tyrwhitt, “of the Canon’s +Yeoman to tell a Tale at a time when so many of the original +characters remain to be called upon, appears a little +extraordinary. It should seem that some sudden resentment +had determined Chaucer to interrupt the regular course of his +work, in order to insert a satire against the alchemists. That +their pretended science was much cultivated about this time, +and produced its usual evils, may fairly be inferred from the +Act, which was passed soon after, 5 H. IV. c. iv., to make it +felony ‘to multiply gold or silver, or to use the art of +multiplication.’” Tyrwhitt finds in the prologue some colour +for the hypothesis that this Tale was intended by Chaucer to +begin the return journey from Canterbury; but against this +must be set the fact that the Yeoman himself expressly speaks +of the distance to Canterbury yet to be ridden. +</p> + +<p> +2. Fully five mile: From some place which the loss of the +Second Nun’s Prologue does not enable us to identify. +</p> + +<p> +3. Peytrel: the breast-plate of a horse’s harness; French, +“poitrail.” +</p> + +<p> +4. A maile twyfold: a double valise; a wallet hanging across +the crupper on either side of the horse. +</p> + +<p> +5. Multiply: transmute metals, in the attempt to multiply gold +and silver by alchemy. +</p> + +<p> +6. “Conscius ipse sibi de se putat omnia dici” (“The +conspirator believes that everything spoken refers to himself”) +— “De Moribus,” I. i. dist. 17. +</p> + +<h3>THE TALE. <1></h3> + +<p> +With this Canon I dwelt have seven year,<br/> +And of his science am I ne’er the near* *nearer<br/> +All that I had I have lost thereby,<br/> +And, God wot, so have many more than I.<br/> +Where I was wont to be right fresh and gay<br/> +Of clothing, and of other good array<br/> +Now may I wear an hose upon mine head;<br/> +And where my colour was both fresh and red,<br/> +Now is it wan, and of a leaden hue<br/> +(Whoso it useth, sore shall he it rue);<br/> +And of my swink* yet bleared is mine eye; *labour<br/> +Lo what advantage is to multiply!<br/> +That sliding* science hath me made so bare, *slippery, deceptive<br/> +That I have no good,* where that ever I fare; *property<br/> +And yet I am indebted so thereby<br/> +Of gold, that I have borrow’d truely,<br/> +That, while I live, I shall it quite* never; *repay<br/> +Let every man beware by me for ever.<br/> +What manner man that casteth* him thereto, *betaketh<br/> +If he continue, I hold *his thrift y-do;* *prosperity at an end*<br/> +So help me God, thereby shall he not win,<br/> +But empty his purse, and make his wittes thin.<br/> +And when he, through his madness and folly,<br/> +Hath lost his owen good through jupartie,* *hazard <2><br/> +Then he exciteth other men thereto,<br/> +To lose their good as he himself hath do’.<br/> +For unto shrewes* joy it is and ease *wicked folk<br/> +To have their fellows in pain and disease.* *trouble<br/> +Thus was I ones learned of a clerk;<br/> +Of that no charge;* I will speak of our work. *matter +</p> + +<p> +When we be there as we shall exercise<br/> +Our elvish* craft, we seeme wonder wise, *fantastic, wicked<br/> +Our termes be so *clergial and quaint.* *learned and strange<br/> +I blow the fire till that mine hearte faint.<br/> +Why should I tellen each proportion<br/> +Of thinges, whiche that we work upon,<br/> +As on five or six ounces, may well be,<br/> +Of silver, or some other quantity?<br/> +And busy me to telle you the names,<br/> +As orpiment, burnt bones, iron squames,* *scales <3><br/> +That into powder grounden be full small?<br/> +And in an earthen pot how put is all,<br/> +And, salt y-put in, and also peppere,<br/> +Before these powders that I speak of here,<br/> +And well y-cover’d with a lamp of glass?<br/> +And of much other thing which that there was?<br/> +And of the pots and glasses engluting,* *sealing up<br/> +That of the air might passen out no thing?<br/> +And of the easy* fire, and smart** also, *slow **quick<br/> +Which that was made? and of the care and woe<br/> +That we had in our matters subliming,<br/> +And in amalgaming, and calcining<br/> +Of quicksilver, called mercury crude?<br/> +For all our sleightes we can not conclude.<br/> +Our orpiment, and sublim’d mercury,<br/> +Our ground litharge* eke on the porphyry, *white lead<br/> +Of each of these of ounces a certain,* *certain proportion<br/> +Not helpeth us, our labour is in vain.<br/> +Nor neither our spirits’ ascensioun,<br/> +Nor our matters that lie all fix’d adown,<br/> +May in our working nothing us avail;<br/> +For lost is all our labour and travail,<br/> +And all the cost, a twenty devil way,<br/> +Is lost also, which we upon it lay. +</p> + +<p> +There is also full many another thing<br/> +That is unto our craft appertaining,<br/> +Though I by order them not rehearse can,<br/> +Because that I am a lewed* man; *unlearned<br/> +Yet will I tell them as they come to mind,<br/> +Although I cannot set them in their kind,<br/> +As sal-armoniac, verdigris, borace;<br/> +And sundry vessels made of earth and glass; <4><br/> +Our urinales, and our descensories,<br/> +Phials, and croslets, and sublimatories,<br/> +Cucurbites, and alembikes eke,<br/> +And other suche, *dear enough a leek,* *worth less than a leek*<br/> +It needeth not for to rehearse them all.<br/> +Waters rubifying, and bulles’ gall,<br/> +Arsenic, sal-armoniac, and brimstone,<br/> +And herbes could I tell eke many a one,<br/> +As egremoine,* valerian, and lunary,** *agrimony **moon-wort<br/> +And other such, if that me list to tarry;<br/> +Our lampes burning bothe night and day,<br/> +To bring about our craft if that we may;<br/> +Our furnace eke of calcination,<br/> +And of waters albification,<br/> +Unslaked lime, chalk, and *glair of an ey,* *egg-white<br/> +Powders diverse, ashes, dung, piss, and clay,<br/> +Seared pokettes,<5> saltpetre, and vitriol;<br/> +And divers fires made of wood and coal;<br/> +Sal-tartar, alkali, salt preparate,<br/> +And combust matters, and coagulate;<br/> +Clay made with horse and manne’s hair, and oil<br/> +Of tartar, alum, glass, barm, wort, argoil,* *potter’s clay<6><br/> +Rosalgar,* and other matters imbibing; *flowers of antimony<br/> +And eke of our matters encorporing,* *incorporating<br/> +And of our silver citrination, <7><br/> +Our cementing, and fermentation,<br/> +Our ingots,* tests, and many thinges mo’. *moulds <8><br/> +I will you tell, as was me taught also,<br/> +The foure spirits, and the bodies seven,<br/> +By order, as oft I heard my lord them neven.* *name<br/> +The first spirit Quicksilver called is;<br/> +The second Orpiment; the third, y-wis,<br/> +Sal-Armoniac, and the fourth Brimstone.<br/> +The bodies sev’n eke, lo them here anon.<br/> +Sol gold is, and Luna silver we threpe* *name <9><br/> +Mars iron, Mercury quicksilver we clepe;* *call<br/> +Saturnus lead, and Jupiter is tin,<br/> +And Venus copper, by my father’s kin. +</p> + +<p> +This cursed craft whoso will exercise,<br/> +He shall no good have that him may suffice;<br/> +For all the good he spendeth thereabout,<br/> +He lose shall, thereof have I no doubt.<br/> +Whoso that list to utter* his folly, *display<br/> +Let him come forth and learn to multiply:<br/> +And every man that hath aught in his coffer,<br/> +Let him appear, and wax a philosopher;<br/> +Ascaunce* that craft is so light to lear.** *as if **learn<br/> +Nay, nay, God wot, all be he monk or frere,<br/> +Priest or canon, or any other wight;<br/> +Though he sit at his book both day and night;<br/> +In learning of this *elvish nice* lore, * fantastic, foolish<br/> +All is in vain; and pardie muche more,<br/> +Is to learn a lew’d* man this subtlety; *ignorant<br/> +Fie! speak not thereof, for it will not be.<br/> +And *conne he letterure,* or conne he none, *if he knows learning*<br/> +As in effect, he shall it find all one;<br/> +For bothe two, by my salvation,<br/> +Concluden in multiplication* *transmutation by alchemy<br/> +Alike well, when they have all y-do;<br/> +This is to say, they faile bothe two.<br/> +Yet forgot I to make rehearsale<br/> +Of waters corrosive, and of limaile,* *metal filings<br/> +And of bodies’ mollification,<br/> +And also of their induration,<br/> +Oiles, ablutions, metal fusible,<br/> +To tellen all, would passen any Bible<br/> +That owhere* is; wherefore, as for the best, *anywhere<br/> +Of all these names now will I me rest;<br/> +For, as I trow, I have you told enough<br/> +To raise a fiend, all look he ne’er so rough. +</p> + +<p> +Ah! nay, let be; the philosopher’s stone,<br/> +Elixir call’d, we seeke fast each one;<br/> +For had we him, then were we sicker* enow; *secure<br/> +But unto God of heaven I make avow,* *confession<br/> +For all our craft, when we have all y-do,<br/> +And all our sleight, he will not come us to.<br/> +He hath y-made us spende muche good,<br/> +For sorrow of which almost we waxed wood,* *mad<br/> +But that good hope creeped in our heart,<br/> +Supposing ever, though we sore smart,<br/> +To be relieved by him afterward.<br/> +Such supposing and hope is sharp and hard.<br/> +I warn you well it is to seeken ever.<br/> +That future temps* hath made men dissever,** *time **part from<br/> +In trust thereof, from all that ever they had,<br/> +Yet of that art they cannot waxe sad,* *repentant<br/> +For unto them it is a bitter sweet;<br/> +So seemeth it; for had they but a sheet<br/> +Which that they mighte wrap them in at night,<br/> +And a bratt* to walk in by dayelight, *cloak<10><br/> +They would them sell, and spend it on this craft;<br/> +They cannot stint,* until no thing be laft. *cease<br/> +And evermore, wherever that they gon,<br/> +Men may them knowe by smell of brimstone;<br/> +For all the world they stinken as a goat;<br/> +Their savour is so rammish and so hot,<br/> +That though a man a mile from them be,<br/> +The savour will infect him, truste me.<br/> +Lo, thus by smelling and threadbare array,<br/> +If that men list, this folk they knowe may.<br/> +And if a man will ask them privily,<br/> +Why they be clothed so unthriftily,* *shabbily<br/> +They right anon will rownen* in his ear, *whisper<br/> +And sayen, if that they espied were,<br/> +Men would them slay, because of their science:<br/> +Lo, thus these folk betrayen innocence! +</p> + +<p> +Pass over this; I go my tale unto.<br/> +Ere that the pot be on the fire y-do* *placed<br/> +Of metals, with a certain quantity<br/> +My lord them tempers,* and no man but he *adjusts the proportions<br/> +(Now he is gone, I dare say boldely);<br/> +For as men say, he can do craftily,<br/> +Algate* I wot well he hath such a name, *although<br/> +And yet full oft he runneth into blame;<br/> +And know ye how? full oft it happ’neth so,<br/> +The pot to-breaks, and farewell! all is go’.* *gone<br/> +These metals be of so great violence,<br/> +Our walles may not make them resistence,<br/> +*But if* they were wrought of lime and stone; *unless*<br/> +They pierce so, that through the wall they gon;<br/> +And some of them sink down into the ground<br/> +(Thus have we lost by times many a pound),<br/> +And some are scatter’d all the floor about;<br/> +Some leap into the roof withoute doubt.<br/> +Though that the fiend not in our sight him show,<br/> +I trowe that he be with us, that shrew;* *impious wretch<br/> +In helle, where that he is lord and sire,<br/> +Is there no more woe, rancour, nor ire.<br/> +When that our pot is broke, as I have said,<br/> +Every man chides, and holds him *evil apaid.* *dissatisfied*<br/> +Some said it was *long on* the fire-making; *because of <11>*<br/> +Some saide nay, it was on the blowing<br/> +(Then was I fear’d, for that was mine office);<br/> +“Straw!” quoth the third, “ye be *lewed and **nice, *ignorant **foolish<br/> +It was not temper’d* as it ought to be.” *mixed in due proportions<br/> +“Nay,” quoth the fourthe, “stint* and hearken me; *stop<br/> +Because our fire was not y-made of beech,<br/> +That is the cause, and other none, *so the’ch.* *so may I thrive*<br/> +I cannot tell whereon it was along,<br/> +But well I wot great strife is us among.”<br/> +“What?” quoth my lord, “there is no more to do’n,<br/> +Of these perils I will beware eftsoon.* *another time<br/> +I am right sicker* that the pot was crazed.** *sure **cracked<br/> +Be as be may, be ye no thing amazed.* *confounded<br/> +As usage is, let sweep the floor as swithe;* *quickly<br/> +Pluck up your heartes and be glad and blithe.” +</p> + +<p> +The mullok* on a heap y-sweeped was, *rubbish<br/> +And on the floor y-cast a canevas,<br/> +And all this mullok in a sieve y-throw,<br/> +And sifted, and y-picked many a throw.* *time<br/> +“Pardie,” quoth one, “somewhat of our metal<br/> +Yet is there here, though that we have not all.<br/> +And though this thing *mishapped hath as now,* *has gone amiss<br/> +Another time it may be well enow. at present*<br/> +We muste *put our good in adventure; * *risk our property*<br/> +A merchant, pardie, may not aye endure,<br/> +Truste me well, in his prosperity:<br/> +Sometimes his good is drenched* in the sea, *drowned, sunk<br/> +And sometimes comes it safe unto the land.”<br/> +“Peace,” quoth my lord; “the next time I will fand* *endeavour<br/> +To bring our craft *all in another plight,* *to a different conclusion*<br/> +And but I do, Sirs, let me have the wite;* *blame<br/> +There was default in somewhat, well I wot.”<br/> +Another said, the fire was over hot.<br/> +But be it hot or cold, I dare say this,<br/> +That we concluden evermore amiss;<br/> +We fail alway of that which we would have;<br/> +And in our madness evermore we rave.<br/> +And when we be together every one,<br/> +Every man seemeth a Solomon.<br/> +But all thing, which that shineth as the gold,<br/> +It is not gold, as I have heard it told;<br/> +Nor every apple that is fair at eye,<br/> +It is not good, what so men clap* or cry. *assert<br/> +Right so, lo, fareth it amonges us.<br/> +He that the wisest seemeth, by Jesus,<br/> +Is most fool, when it cometh to the prefe;* *proof, test<br/> +And he that seemeth truest, is a thief.<br/> +That shall ye know, ere that I from you wend;<br/> +By that I of my tale have made an end. +</p> + +<p> +There was a canon of religioun<br/> +Amonges us, would infect* all a town, *deceive<br/> +Though it as great were as was Nineveh,<br/> +Rome, Alisandre,* Troy, or other three. *Alexandria<br/> +His sleightes* and his infinite falseness *cunning tricks<br/> +There coulde no man writen, as I guess,<br/> +Though that he mighte live a thousand year;<br/> +In all this world of falseness n’is* his peer. *there is not<br/> +For in his termes he will him so wind,<br/> +And speak his wordes in so sly a kind,<br/> +When he commune shall with any wight,<br/> +That he will make him doat* anon aright, *become foolishly<br/> +But it a fiende be, as himself is. fond of him*<br/> +Full many a man hath he beguil’d ere this,<br/> +And will, if that he may live any while;<br/> +And yet men go and ride many a mile<br/> +Him for to seek, and have his acquaintance,<br/> +Not knowing of his false governance.* *deceitful conduct<br/> +And if you list to give me audience,<br/> +I will it telle here in your presence.<br/> +But, worshipful canons religious,<br/> +Ne deeme not that I slander your house,<br/> +Although that my tale of a canon be.<br/> +Of every order some shrew is, pardie;<br/> +And God forbid that all a company<br/> +Should rue a singular* manne’s folly. *individual<br/> +To slander you is no thing mine intent;<br/> +But to correct that is amiss I meant.<br/> +This tale was not only told for you,<br/> +But eke for other more; ye wot well how<br/> +That amonges Christe’s apostles twelve<br/> +There was no traitor but Judas himselve;<br/> +Then why should all the remenant have blame,<br/> +That guiltless were? By you I say the same.<br/> +Save only this, if ye will hearken me,<br/> +If any Judas in your convent be,<br/> +Remove him betimes, I you rede,* *counsel<br/> +If shame or loss may causen any dread.<br/> +And be no thing displeased, I you pray;<br/> +But in this case hearken what I say. +</p> + +<p> +In London was a priest, an annualere, <12><br/> +That therein dwelled hadde many a year,<br/> +Which was so pleasant and so serviceable<br/> +Unto the wife, where as he was at table,<br/> +That she would suffer him no thing to pay<br/> +For board nor clothing, went he ne’er so gay;<br/> +And spending silver had he right enow;<br/> +Thereof no force;* will proceed as now, *no matter<br/> +And telle forth my tale of the canon,<br/> +That brought this prieste to confusion.<br/> +This false canon came upon a day<br/> +Unto the prieste’s chamber, where he lay,<br/> +Beseeching him to lend him a certain<br/> +Of gold, and he would quit it him again.<br/> +“Lend me a mark,” quoth he, “but dayes three,<br/> +And at my day I will it quite thee.<br/> +And if it so be that thou find me false,<br/> +Another day hang me up by the halse.”* *neck<br/> +This priest him took a mark, and that as swithe,* *quickly<br/> +And this canon him thanked often sithe,* *times<br/> +And took his leave, and wente forth his way;<br/> +And at the thirde day brought his money;<br/> +And to the priest he took his gold again,<br/> +Whereof this priest was wondrous glad and fain.* *pleased<br/> +“Certes,” quoth he, *“nothing annoyeth me* *I am not unwiling*<br/> +To lend a man a noble, or two, or three,<br/> +Or what thing were in my possession,<br/> +When he so true is of condition,<br/> +That in no wise he breake will his day;<br/> +To such a man I never can say nay.”<br/> +“What,” quoth this canon, “should I be untrue?<br/> +Nay, that were *thing y-fallen all of new!* *a new thing to happen*<br/> +Truth is a thing that I will ever keep,<br/> +Unto the day in which that I shall creep<br/> +Into my grave; and elles God forbid;<br/> +Believe this as sicker* as your creed. *sure<br/> +God thank I, and in good time be it said,<br/> +That there was never man yet *evil apaid* *displeased, dissatisfied*<br/> +For gold nor silver that he to me lent,<br/> +Nor ever falsehood in mine heart I meant.<br/> +And Sir,” quoth he, “now of my privity,<br/> +Since ye so goodly have been unto me,<br/> +And kithed* to me so great gentleness, *shown<br/> +Somewhat, to quite with your kindeness,<br/> +I will you shew, and if you list to lear,* *learn<br/> +I will you teache plainly the mannere<br/> +How I can worken in philosophy.<br/> +Take good heed, ye shall well see *at eye* *with your own eye*<br/> +That I will do a mas’try ere I go.”<br/> +“Yea,” quoth the priest; “yea, Sir, and will ye so?<br/> +Mary! thereof I pray you heartily.”<br/> +“At your commandement, Sir, truely,”<br/> +Quoth the canon, “and elles God forbid.”<br/> +Lo, how this thiefe could his service bede!* *offer +</p> + +<p> +Full sooth it is that such proffer’d service<br/> +Stinketh, as witnesse *these olde wise;* *those wise folk of old*<br/> +And that full soon I will it verify<br/> +In this canon, root of all treachery,<br/> +That evermore delight had and gladness<br/> +(Such fiendly thoughtes *in his heart impress*) *press into his heart*<br/> +How Christe’s people he may to mischief bring.<br/> +God keep us from his false dissimuling!<br/> +What wiste this priest with whom that he dealt?<br/> +Nor of his harm coming he nothing felt.<br/> +O sely* priest, O sely innocent! *simple<br/> +With covetise anon thou shalt be blent;* *blinded; beguiled<br/> +O graceless, full blind is thy conceit!<br/> +For nothing art thou ware of the deceit<br/> +Which that this fox y-shapen* hath to thee; *contrived<br/> +His wily wrenches* thou not mayest flee. *snares<br/> +Wherefore, to go to the conclusioun<br/> +That referreth to thy confusion,<br/> +Unhappy man, anon I will me hie* *hasten<br/> +To telle thine unwit* and thy folly, *stupidity<br/> +And eke the falseness of that other wretch,<br/> +As farforth as that my conning* will stretch. *knowledge<br/> +This canon was my lord, ye woulde ween;* *imagine<br/> +Sir Host, in faith, and by the heaven’s queen,<br/> +It was another canon, and not he,<br/> +That can* an hundred fold more subtlety. *knows<br/> +He hath betrayed folkes many a time;<br/> +Of his falseness it doleth* me to rhyme. *paineth<br/> +And ever, when I speak of his falsehead,<br/> +For shame of him my cheekes waxe red;<br/> +Algates* they beginne for to glow, *at least<br/> +For redness have I none, right well I know,<br/> +In my visage; for fumes diverse<br/> +Of metals, which ye have me heard rehearse,<br/> +Consumed have and wasted my redness.<br/> +Now take heed of this canon’s cursedness.* *villainy +</p> + +<p> +“Sir,” quoth he to the priest, “let your man gon<br/> +For quicksilver, that we it had anon;<br/> +And let him bringen ounces two or three;<br/> +And when he comes, as faste shall ye see<br/> +A wondrous thing, which ye saw ne’er ere this.”<br/> +“Sir,” quoth the priest, “it shall be done, y-wis.”* *certainly<br/> +He bade his servant fetche him this thing,<br/> +And he all ready was at his bidding,<br/> +And went him forth, and came anon again<br/> +With this quicksilver, shortly for to sayn;<br/> +And took these ounces three to the canoun;<br/> +And he them laide well and fair adown,<br/> +And bade the servant coales for to bring,<br/> +That he anon might go to his working.<br/> +The coales right anon weren y-fet,* *fetched<br/> +And this canon y-took a crosselet* *crucible<br/> +Out of his bosom, and shew’d to the priest.<br/> +“This instrument,” quoth he, “which that thou seest,<br/> +Take in thine hand, and put thyself therein<br/> +Of this quicksilver an ounce, and here begin,<br/> +In the name of Christ, to wax a philosopher.<br/> +There be full few, which that I woulde proffer<br/> +To shewe them thus much of my science;<br/> +For here shall ye see by experience<br/> +That this quicksilver I will mortify,<13><br/> +Right in your sight anon withoute lie,<br/> +And make it as good silver, and as fine,<br/> +As there is any in your purse, or mine,<br/> +Or elleswhere; and make it malleable,<br/> +And elles holde me false and unable<br/> +Amonge folk for ever to appear.<br/> +I have a powder here that cost me dear,<br/> +Shall make all good, for it is cause of all<br/> +My conning,* which that I you shewe shall. *knowledge<br/> +Voide* your man, and let him be thereout; *send away<br/> +And shut the doore, while we be about<br/> +Our privity, that no man us espy,<br/> +While that we work in this phiosophy.”<br/> +All, as he bade, fulfilled was in deed.<br/> +This ilke servant right anon out yede,* *went<br/> +And his master y-shut the door anon,<br/> +And to their labour speedily they gon. +</p> + +<p> +This priest, at this cursed canon’s biddIng,<br/> +Upon the fire anon he set this thing,<br/> +And blew the fire, and busied him full fast.<br/> +And this canon into the croslet cast<br/> +A powder, I know not whereof it was<br/> +Y-made, either of chalk, either of glass,<br/> +Or somewhat elles, was not worth a fly,<br/> +To blinden* with this priest; and bade him hie** *deceive **make haste<br/> +The coales for to couchen* all above lay in order<br/> +The croslet; “for, in token I thee love,”<br/> +Quoth this canon, “thine owen handes two<br/> +Shall work all thing that here shall be do’.”<br/> +*“Grand mercy,”* quoth the priest, and was full glad, *great thanks*<br/> +And couch’d the coales as the canon bade.<br/> +And while he busy was, this fiendly wretch,<br/> +This false canon (the foule fiend him fetch),<br/> +Out of his bosom took a beechen coal,<br/> +In which full subtifly was made a hole,<br/> +And therein put was of silver limaile* *filings<br/> +An ounce, and stopped was withoute fail<br/> +The hole with wax, to keep the limaile in.<br/> +And understande, that this false gin* *contrivance<br/> +Was not made there, but it was made before;<br/> +And other thinges I shall tell you more,<br/> +Hereafterward, which that he with him brought;<br/> +Ere he came there, him to beguile he thought,<br/> +And so he did, ere that they *went atwin;* *separated*<br/> +Till he had turned him, could he not blin.* *cease <14><br/> +It doleth* me, when that I of him speak; *paineth<br/> +On his falsehood fain would I me awreak,* *revenge myself<br/> +If I wist how, but he is here and there;<br/> +He is so variant,* he abides nowhere. *changeable +</p> + +<p> +But take heed, Sirs, now for Godde’s love.<br/> +He took his coal, of which I spake above,<br/> +And in his hand he bare it privily,<br/> +And while the prieste couched busily<br/> +The coales, as I tolde you ere this,<br/> +This canon saide, “Friend, ye do amiss;<br/> +This is not couched as it ought to be,<br/> +But soon I shall amenden it,” quoth he.<br/> +“Now let me meddle therewith but a while,<br/> +For of you have I pity, by Saint Gile.<br/> +Ye be right hot, I see well how ye sweat;<br/> +Have here a cloth, and wipe away the wet.”<br/> +And while that the prieste wip’d his face,<br/> +This canon took his coal, — *with sorry grace,* — *evil fortune<br/> +And layed it above on the midward attend him!*<br/> +Of the croslet, and blew well afterward,<br/> +Till that the coals beganne fast to brenn.* *burn<br/> +“Now give us drinke,” quoth this canon then,<br/> +“And swithe* all shall be well, I undertake. *quickly<br/> +Sitte we down, and let us merry make.”<br/> +And whenne that this canon’s beechen coal<br/> +Was burnt, all the limaile out of the hole<br/> +Into the crosselet anon fell down;<br/> +And so it muste needes, by reasoun,<br/> +Since it above so *even couched* was; *exactly laid*<br/> +But thereof wist the priest no thing, alas!<br/> +He deemed all the coals alike good,<br/> +For of the sleight he nothing understood. +</p> + +<p> +And when this alchemister saw his time,<br/> +“Rise up, Sir Priest,” quoth he, “and stand by me;<br/> +And, for I wot well ingot* have ye none; *mould<br/> +Go, walke forth, and bring me a chalk stone;<br/> +For I will make it of the same shape<br/> +That is an ingot, if I may have hap.<br/> +Bring eke with you a bowl, or else a pan,<br/> +Full of water, and ye shall well see than* *then<br/> +How that our business shall *hap and preve* *succeed*<br/> +And yet, for ye shall have no misbelieve* *mistrust<br/> +Nor wrong conceit of me, in your absence,<br/> +I wille not be out of your presence,<br/> +But go with you, and come with you again.”<br/> +The chamber-doore, shortly for to sayn,<br/> +They opened and shut, and went their way,<br/> +And forth with them they carried the key;<br/> +And came again without any delay.<br/> +Why should I tarry all the longe day?<br/> +He took the chalk, and shap’d it in the wise<br/> +Of an ingot, as I shall you devise;* *describe<br/> +I say, he took out of his owen sleeve<br/> +A teine* of silver (evil may he cheve!**) *little piece **prosper<br/> +Which that ne was but a just ounce of weight.<br/> +And take heed now of his cursed sleight;<br/> +He shap’d his ingot, in length and in brede* *breadth<br/> +Of this teine, withouten any drede,* *doubt<br/> +So slily, that the priest it not espied;<br/> +And in his sleeve again he gan it hide;<br/> +And from the fire he took up his mattere,<br/> +And in th’ ingot put it with merry cheer;<br/> +And in the water-vessel he it cast,<br/> +When that him list, and bade the priest as fast<br/> +Look what there is; “Put in thine hand and grope;<br/> +There shalt thou finde silver, as I hope.”<br/> +What, devil of helle! should it elles be?<br/> +Shaving of silver, silver is, pardie.<br/> +He put his hand in, and took up a teine<br/> +Of silver fine; and glad in every vein<br/> +Was this priest, when he saw that it was so.<br/> +“Godde’s blessing, and his mother’s also,<br/> +And alle hallows,* have ye, Sir Canon!” *saints<br/> +Saide this priest, “and I their malison* *curse<br/> +But, an’* ye vouchesafe to teache me *if<br/> +This noble craft and this subtility,<br/> +I will be yours in all that ever I may.”<br/> +Quoth the canon, “Yet will I make assay<br/> +The second time, that ye may take heed,<br/> +And be expert of this, and, in your need,<br/> +Another day assay in mine absence<br/> +This discipline, and this crafty science.<br/> +Let take another ounce,” quoth he tho,* *then<br/> +“Of quicksilver, withoute wordes mo’,<br/> +And do therewith as ye have done ere this<br/> +With that other, which that now silver is. “ +</p> + +<p> +The priest him busied, all that e’er he can,<br/> +To do as this canon, this cursed man,<br/> +Commanded him, and fast he blew the fire<br/> +For to come to th’ effect of his desire.<br/> +And this canon right in the meanewhile<br/> +All ready was this priest eft* to beguile, *again<br/> +and, for a countenance,* in his hande bare *stratagem<br/> +An hollow sticke (take keep* and beware); *heed<br/> +Of silver limaile put was, as before<br/> +Was in his coal, and stopped with wax well<br/> +For to keep in his limaile every deal.* *particle<br/> +And while this priest was in his business,<br/> +This canon with his sticke gan him dress* *apply<br/> +To him anon, and his powder cast in,<br/> +As he did erst (the devil out of his skin<br/> +Him turn, I pray to God, for his falsehead,<br/> +For he was ever false in thought and deed),<br/> +And with his stick, above the crosselet,<br/> +That was ordained* with that false get,** *provided **contrivance<br/> +He stirr’d the coales, till relente gan<br/> +The wax against the fire, as every man,<br/> +But he a fool be, knows well it must need.<br/> +And all that in the sticke was out yede,* *went<br/> +And in the croslet hastily* it fell. *quickly<br/> +Now, goode Sirs, what will ye bet* than well? *better<br/> +When that this priest was thus beguil’d again,<br/> +Supposing naught but truthe, sooth to sayn,<br/> +He was so glad, that I can not express<br/> +In no mannere his mirth and his gladness;<br/> +And to the canon he proffer’d eftsoon* *forthwith; again<br/> +Body and good. “Yea,” quoth the canon soon,<br/> +“Though poor I be, crafty* thou shalt me find; *skilful<br/> +I warn thee well, yet is there more behind.<br/> +Is any copper here within?” said he.<br/> +“Yea, Sir,” the prieste said, “I trow there be.”<br/> +“Elles go buy us some, and that as swithe.* *swiftly<br/> +Now, goode Sir, go forth thy way and hie* thee.” *hasten<br/> +He went his way, and with the copper came,<br/> +And this canon it in his handes name,* *took <15><br/> +And of that copper weighed out an ounce.<br/> +Too simple is my tongue to pronounce,<br/> +As minister of my wit, the doubleness<br/> +Of this canon, root of all cursedness.<br/> +He friendly seem’d to them that knew him not;<br/> +But he was fiendly, both in work and thought.<br/> +It wearieth me to tell of his falseness;<br/> +And natheless yet will I it express,<br/> +To that intent men may beware thereby,<br/> +And for none other cause truely.<br/> +He put this copper in the crosselet,<br/> +And on the fire as swithe* he hath it set, *swiftly<br/> +And cast in powder, and made the priest to blow,<br/> +And in his working for to stoope low,<br/> +As he did erst,* and all was but a jape;** *before **trick<br/> +Right as him list the priest *he made his ape.* *befooled him*<br/> +And afterward in the ingot he it cast,<br/> +And in the pan he put it at the last<br/> +Of water, and in he put his own hand;<br/> +And in his sleeve, as ye beforehand<br/> +Hearde me tell, he had a silver teine;* *small piece<br/> +He silly took it out, this cursed heine* *wretch<br/> +(Unweeting* this priest of his false craft), *unsuspecting<br/> +And in the panne’s bottom he it laft* *left<br/> +And in the water rumbleth to and fro,<br/> +And wondrous privily took up also<br/> +The copper teine (not knowing thilke priest),<br/> +And hid it, and him hente* by the breast, *took<br/> +And to him spake, and thus said in his game;<br/> +“Stoop now adown; by God, ye be to blame;<br/> +Helpe me now, as I did you whilere;* *before<br/> +Put in your hand, and looke what is there.” +</p> + +<p> +This priest took up this silver teine anon;<br/> +And thenne said the canon, “Let us gon,<br/> +With these three teines which that we have wrought,<br/> +To some goldsmith, and *weet if they be aught:* *find out if they are<br/> +For, by my faith, I would not for my hood worth anything*<br/> +*But if* they were silver fine and good, *unless<br/> +And that as swithe* well proved shall it be.” *quickly<br/> +Unto the goldsmith with these teines three<br/> +They went anon, and put them in assay* *proof<br/> +To fire and hammer; might no man say nay,<br/> +But that they weren as they ought to be.<br/> +This sotted* priest, who gladder was than he? *stupid, besotted<br/> +Was never bird gladder against the day;<br/> +Nor nightingale in the season of May<br/> +Was never none, that better list to sing;<br/> +Nor lady lustier in carolling,<br/> +Or for to speak of love and womanhead;<br/> +Nor knight in arms to do a hardy deed,<br/> +To standen in grace of his lady dear,<br/> +Than had this priest this crafte for to lear;<br/> +And to the canon thus he spake and said;<br/> +“For love of God, that for us alle died,<br/> +And as I may deserve it unto you,<br/> +What shall this receipt coste? tell me now.”<br/> +“By our Lady,” quoth this canon, “it is dear.<br/> +I warn you well, that, save I and a frere,<br/> +In Engleland there can no man it make.”<br/> +*“No force,”* quoth he; “now, Sir, for Godde’s sake, *no matter<br/> +What shall I pay? telle me, I you pray.”<br/> +“Y-wis,”* quoth he, “it is full dear, I say. *certainly<br/> +Sir, at one word, if that you list it have,<br/> +Ye shall pay forty pound, so God me save;<br/> +And n’ere* the friendship that ye did ere this *were it not for<br/> +To me, ye shoulde paye more, y-wis.”<br/> +This priest the sum of forty pound anon<br/> +Of nobles fet,* and took them every one *fetched<br/> +To this canon, for this ilke receipt.<br/> +All his working was but fraud and deceit.<br/> +“Sir Priest,” he said, “I keep* to have no los** *care **praise <16><br/> +Of my craft, for I would it were kept close;<br/> +And as ye love me, keep it secre:<br/> +For if men knewen all my subtlety,<br/> +By God, they woulde have so great envy<br/> +To me, because of my philosophy,<br/> +I should be dead, there were no other way.”<br/> +“God it forbid,” quoth the priest, “what ye say.<br/> +Yet had I lever* spenden all the good *rather<br/> +Which that I have (and elles were I wood*), *mad<br/> +Than that ye shoulde fall in such mischief.”<br/> +“For your good will, Sir, have ye right good prefe,”* *results of your<br/> +Quoth the canon; “and farewell, grand mercy.” *experiments*<br/> +He went his way, and never the priest him sey * *saw<br/> +After that day; and when that this priest should<br/> +Maken assay, at such time as he would,<br/> +Of this receipt, farewell! it would not be.<br/> +Lo, thus bejaped* and beguil’d was he; *tricked<br/> +Thus made he his introduction<br/> +To bringe folk to their destruction. +</p> + +<p> +Consider, Sirs, how that in each estate<br/> +Betwixte men and gold there is debate,<br/> +So farforth that *unnethes is there none.* *scarcely is there any*<br/> +This multiplying blint* so many a one, *blinds, deceive<br/> +That in good faith I trowe that it be<br/> +The cause greatest of such scarcity.<br/> +These philosophers speak so mistily<br/> +In this craft, that men cannot come thereby,<br/> +For any wit that men have how-a-days.<br/> +They may well chatter, as do these jays,<br/> +And in their termes set their *lust and pain,* *pleasure and exertion*<br/> +But to their purpose shall they ne’er attain.<br/> +A man may lightly* learn, if he have aught, *easily<br/> +To multiply, and bring his good to naught.<br/> +Lo, such a lucre* is in this lusty** game; *profit **pleasant<br/> +A manne’s mirth it will turn all to grame,* *sorrow <17><br/> +And empty also great and heavy purses,<br/> +And make folke for to purchase curses<br/> +Of them that have thereto their good y-lent.<br/> +Oh, fy for shame! they that have been brent,* *burnt<br/> +Alas! can they not flee the fire’s heat?<br/> +Ye that it use, I rede* that ye it lete,** *advise **leave<br/> +Lest ye lose all; for better than never is late;<br/> +Never to thrive, were too long a date.<br/> +Though ye prowl aye, ye shall it never find;<br/> +Ye be as bold as is Bayard the blind,<br/> +That blunders forth, and *peril casteth none;* *perceives no danger*<br/> +He is as bold to run against a stone,<br/> +As for to go beside it in the way:<br/> +So fare ye that multiply, I say.<br/> +If that your eyen cannot see aright,<br/> +Look that your minde lacke not his sight.<br/> +For though you look never so broad, and stare,<br/> +Ye shall not win a mite on that chaffare,* *traffic, commerce<br/> +But wasten all that ye may *rape and renn.* *get by hook or crook*<br/> +Withdraw the fire, lest it too faste brenn;* *burn<br/> +Meddle no more with that art, I mean;<br/> +For if ye do, your thrift* is gone full clean. *prosperity<br/> +And right as swithe* I will you telle here *quickly<br/> +What philosophers say in this mattere. +</p> + +<p> +Lo, thus saith Arnold of the newe town, <18><br/> +As his Rosary maketh mentioun,<br/> +He saith right thus, withouten any lie;<br/> +“There may no man mercury mortify,<13><br/> +But* it be with his brother’s knowledging.” *except<br/> +Lo, how that he, which firste said this thing,<br/> +Of philosophers father was, Hermes;<19><br/> +He saith, how that the dragon doubteless<br/> +He dieth not, but if that he be slain<br/> +With his brother. And this is for to sayn,<br/> +By the dragon, Mercury, and none other,<br/> +He understood, and Brimstone by his brother,<br/> +That out of Sol and Luna were y-draw.* *drawn, derived<br/> +“And therefore,” said he, “take heed to my saw. *saying<br/> +Let no man busy him this art to seech,* *study, explore<br/> +*But if* that he th’intention and speech *unless<br/> +Of philosophers understande can;<br/> +And if he do, he is a lewed* man. *ignorant, foolish<br/> +For this science and this conning,”* quoth he, *knowledge<br/> +“Is of the secret of secrets <20> pardie.”<br/> +Also there was a disciple of Plato,<br/> +That on a time said his master to,<br/> +As his book, Senior, <21> will bear witness,<br/> +And this was his demand in soothfastness:<br/> +“Tell me the name of thilke* privy** stone.” *that **secret<br/> +And Plato answer’d unto him anon;<br/> +“Take the stone that Titanos men name.”<br/> +“Which is that?” quoth he. “Magnesia is the same,”<br/> +Saide Plato. “Yea, Sir, and is it thus?<br/> +This is ignotum per ignotius. <22><br/> +What is Magnesia, good Sir, I pray?”<br/> +“It is a water that is made, I say,<br/> +Of th’ elementes foure,” quoth Plato.<br/> +“Tell me the roote, good Sir,” quoth he tho,* *then<br/> +“Of that water, if that it be your will.”<br/> +“Nay, nay,” quoth Plato, “certain that I n’ill.* *will not<br/> +The philosophers sworn were every one,<br/> +That they should not discover it to none,<br/> +Nor in no book it write in no mannere;<br/> +For unto God it is so lefe* and dear, *precious<br/> +That he will not that it discover’d be,<br/> +But where it liketh to his deity<br/> +Man for to inspire, and eke for to defend’* *protect<br/> +Whom that he liketh; lo, this is the end.” +</p> + +<p> +Then thus conclude I, since that God of heaven<br/> +Will not that these philosophers neven* *name<br/> +How that a man shall come unto this stone,<br/> +I rede* as for the best to let it gon. *counsel<br/> +For whoso maketh God his adversary,<br/> +As for to work any thing in contrary<br/> +Of his will, certes never shall he thrive,<br/> +Though that he multiply term of his live. <23><br/> +And there a point;* for ended is my tale. *end<br/> +God send ev’ry good man *boot of his bale.* *remedy for his sorrow* +</p> + +<p> +Note to the Canon’s Yeoman’s Tale +</p> + +<p> +1. The Tale of the Canon’s Yeoman, like those of the Wife of +Bath and the Pardoner, is made up of two parts; a long +general introduction, and the story proper. In the case of the +Wife of Bath, the interruptions of other pilgrims, and the +autobiographical nature of the discourse, recommend the +separation of the prologue from the Tale proper; but in the +other cases the introductory or merely connecting matter +ceases wholly where the opening of “The Tale” has been +marked in the text. +</p> + +<p> +2. Jupartie: Jeopardy, hazard. In Froissart’s French, “a jeu +partie” is used to signify a game or contest in which the +chances were exactly equal for both sides. +</p> + +<p> +3. Squames: Scales; Latin, “squamae.” +</p> + +<p> +4. Descensories: vessels for distillation “per descensum;” they +were placed under the fire, and the spirit to be extracted was +thrown downwards. +Croslets: crucibles; French, “creuset.”. +Cucurbites: retorts; distilling-vessels; so called from their +likeness in shape to a gourd — Latin, “cucurbita.” +Alembikes:stills, limbecs. +</p> + +<p> +5. Seared pokettes: the meaning of this phrase is obscure; but +if we take the reading “cered poketts,” from the Harleian +manuscript, we are led to the supposition that it signifies +receptacles — bags or pokes — prepared with wax for some +process. Latin, “cera,” wax. +</p> + +<p> +6. Argoil: potter’s clay, used for luting or closing vessels in +the laboratories of the alchemists; Latin, “argilla;” French, +“argile.” +</p> + +<p> +7. Citrination: turning to a citrine colour, or yellow, by +chemical action; that was the colour which proved the +philosopher’s stone. +</p> + +<p> +8. Ingots: not, as in its modern meaning, the masses of metal +shaped by pouring into moulds; but the moulds themslves into +which the fused metal was poured. Compare Dutch, +“ingieten,” part. “inghehoten,” to infuse; German, +“eingiessen,” part. “eingegossen,” to pour in. +</p> + +<p> +9. Threpe: name; from Anglo-Saxon, “threapian.” +</p> + +<p> +10. Bratt: coarse cloak; Anglo-Saxon, “bratt.” The word is +still used in Lincolnshire, and some parts of the north, to +signify a coarse kind of apron. +</p> + +<p> +11. Long on: in consequence of; the modern vulgar phrase “all +along of,” or “all along on,” best conveys the force of the +words in the text. +</p> + +<p> +12. Annualere: a priest employed in singing “annuals” or +anniversary masses for the dead, without any cure of souls; +the office was such as, in the Prologue to the Tales, Chaucer +praises the Parson for not seeking: Nor “ran unto London, +unto Saint Poul’s, to seeke him a chantery for souls.” +</p> + +<p> +13. Mortify: a chemical phrase, signifying the dissolution of +quicksilver in acid. +</p> + +<p> +14. Blin: cease; from Anglo-Saxon, “blinnan,” to desist. +</p> + +<p> +15. Name: took; from Anglo-Saxon, “niman,” to take. +Compare German, “nehmen,” “nahm.” +</p> + +<p> +16. Los: praise, reputataion. See note 5 to Chaucer’s tale of +Melibœus. +</p> + +<p> +17. Grame: sorrow; Anglo-Saxon, “gram;” German, “Gram.” +</p> + +<p> +18. Arnaldus Villanovanus, or Arnold de Villeneuve, was a +distinguished French chemist and physician of the fourteenth +century; his “Rosarium Philosophorum” was a favourite text-book +with the alchemists of the generations that succeeded. +</p> + +<p> +19. Hermes Trismegistus, counsellor of Osiris, King of +Egypt, was credited with the invention of writing and +hieroglyphics, the drawing up of the laws of the Egyptians, +and the origination of many sciences and arts. The +Alexandrian school ascribed to him the mystic learning which +it amplified; and the scholars of the Middle Ages regarded +with enthusiasm and reverence the works attributed to him — +notably a treatise on the philosopher’s stone. +</p> + +<p> +20. Secret of secrets: “Secreta Secretorum;” a treatise, very +popular in the Middle Ages, supposed to contain the sum of +Aristotle’s instructions to Alexander. Lydgate translated about +half of the work, when his labour was interrupted by his death +about 1460; and from the same treatise had been taken most +of the seventh book of Gower’s “Confessio Amantis.” +</p> + +<p> +21. Tyrwhitt says that this book was printed in the “Theatrum +Chemicum,” under the title, “Senioris Zadith fi. Hamuelis +tabula chymica” (“The chemical tables of Senior Zadith, son +of Hamuel”); and the story here told of Plato and his disciple +was there related of Solomon, but with some variations. +</p> + +<p> +22. Ignotum per ignotius: To explain the unknown by the +more unknown. +</p> + +<p> +23. Though he multiply term of his live: Though he pursue the +alchemist’s art all his days. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap27"></a>THE MANCIPLE’S TALE.</h2> + +<h3>THE PROLOGUE.</h3> + +<p> +WEET* ye not where there stands a little town, *know<br/> +Which that y-called is Bob-up-and-down, <1><br/> +Under the Blee, in Canterbury way?<br/> +There gan our Hoste for to jape and play,<br/> +And saide, “Sirs, what? Dun is in the mire.<2><br/> +Is there no man, for prayer nor for hire,<br/> +That will awaken our fellow behind?<br/> +A thief him might full* rob and bind *easily<br/> +See how he nappeth, see, for cocke’s bones,<br/> +As he would falle from his horse at ones.<br/> +Is that a Cook of London, with mischance? <3><br/> +Do* him come forth, he knoweth his penance; *make<br/> +For he shall tell a tale, by my fay,* *faith<br/> +Although it be not worth a bottle hay. +</p> + +<p> +Awake, thou Cook,” quoth he; “God give thee sorrow<br/> +What aileth thee to sleepe *by the morrow?* *in the day time*<br/> +Hast thou had fleas all night, or art drunk?<br/> +Or had thou with some quean* all night y-swunk,** *whore **laboured<br/> +So that thou mayest not hold up thine head?”<br/> +The Cook, that was full pale and nothing red,<br/> +Said to Host, “So God my soule bless,<br/> +As there is fall’n on me such heaviness,<br/> +I know not why, that me were lever* sleep, *rather<br/> +Than the best gallon wine that is in Cheap.”<br/> +“Well,” quoth the Manciple, “if it may do ease<br/> +To thee, Sir Cook, and to no wight displease<br/> +Which that here rideth in this company,<br/> +And that our Host will of his courtesy,<br/> +I will as now excuse thee of thy tale;<br/> +For in good faith thy visage is full pale:<br/> +Thine eyen daze,* soothly as me thinketh, *are dim<br/> +And well I wot, thy breath full soure stinketh,<br/> +That sheweth well thou art not well disposed;<br/> +Of me certain thou shalt not be y-glosed.* *flattered<br/> +See how he yawneth, lo, this drunken wight,<br/> +As though he would us swallow anon right.<br/> +Hold close thy mouth, man, by thy father’s kin;<br/> +The devil of helle set his foot therein!<br/> +Thy cursed breath infecte will us all:<br/> +Fy! stinking swine, fy! foul may thee befall.<br/> +Ah! take heed, Sirs, of this lusty man.<br/> +Now, sweete Sir, will ye joust at the fan?<4><br/> +Thereto, me thinketh, ye be well y-shape.<br/> +I trow that ye have drunken wine of ape,<5><br/> +And that is when men playe with a straw.” +</p> + +<p> +And with this speech the Cook waxed all wraw,* *wrathful<br/> +And on the Manciple he gan nod fast<br/> +For lack of speech; and down his horse him cast,<br/> +Where as he lay, till that men him up took.<br/> +This was a fair chevachie* of a cook: *cavalry expedition<br/> +Alas! that he had held him by his ladle!<br/> +And ere that he again were in the saddle<br/> +There was great shoving bothe to and fro<br/> +To lift him up, and muche care and woe,<br/> +So unwieldy was this silly paled ghost.<br/> +And to the Manciple then spake our Host:<br/> +“Because that drink hath domination<br/> +Upon this man, by my salvation<br/> +I trow he lewedly* will tell his tale. *stupidly<br/> +For were it wine, or old or moisty* ale, *new<br/> +That he hath drunk, he speaketh in his nose,<br/> +And sneezeth fast, and eke he hath the pose <6><br/> +He also hath to do more than enough<br/> +To keep him on his capel* out of the slough; *horse<br/> +And if he fall from off his capel eftsoon,* *again<br/> +Then shall we alle have enough to do’n<br/> +In lifting up his heavy drunken corse.<br/> +Tell on thy tale, of him *make I no force.* *I take no account*<br/> +But yet, Manciple, in faith thou art too nice* *foolish<br/> +Thus openly to reprove him of his vice;<br/> +Another day he will paraventure<br/> +Reclaime thee, and bring thee to the lure; <7><br/> +I mean, he speake will of smalle things,<br/> +As for to *pinchen at* thy reckonings, *pick flaws in*<br/> +That were not honest, if it came to prefe.”* *test, proof<br/> +Quoth the Manciple, “That were a great mischief;<br/> +So might he lightly bring me in the snare.<br/> +Yet had I lever* paye for the mare *rather<br/> +Which he rides on, than he should with me strive.<br/> +I will not wrathe him, so may I thrive)<br/> +That that I spake, I said it in my bourde.* *jest<br/> +And weet ye what? I have here in my gourd<br/> +A draught of wine, yea, of a ripe grape,<br/> +And right anon ye shall see a good jape.* *trick<br/> +This Cook shall drink thereof, if that I may;<br/> +On pain of my life he will not say nay.”<br/> +And certainly, to tellen as it was,<br/> +Of this vessel the cook drank fast (alas!<br/> +What needed it? he drank enough beforn),<br/> +And when he hadde *pouped in his horn,* *belched*<br/> +To the Manciple he took the gourd again.<br/> +And of that drink the Cook was wondrous fain,<br/> +And thanked him in such wise as he could. +</p> + +<p> +Then gan our Host to laughe wondrous loud,<br/> +And said, “I see well it is necessary<br/> +Where that we go good drink with us to carry;<br/> +For that will turne rancour and disease* *trouble, annoyance<br/> +T’accord and love, and many a wrong appease.<br/> +O Bacchus, Bacchus, blessed be thy name,<br/> +That so canst turnen earnest into game!<br/> +Worship and thank be to thy deity.<br/> +Of that mattere ye get no more of me.<br/> +Tell on thy tale, Manciple, I thee pray.”<br/> +“Well, Sir,” quoth he, “now hearken what I say.” +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Prologue to the Manciple’s Tale +</p> + +<p> +1. Bob-up-and-down: Mr Wright supposes this to be the village of +Harbledown, near Canterbury, which is situated on a hill, and near +which there are many ups and downs in the road. Like Boughton, +where the Canon and his Yeoman overtook the pilgrims, it stood on +the skirts of the Kentish forest of Blean or Blee. +</p> + +<p> +2. Dun is in the mire: a proverbial saying. “Dun” is a name for an +ass, derived from his colour. +</p> + +<p> +3. The mention of the Cook here, with no hint that he had already +told a story, confirms the indication given by the imperfect +condition of his Tale, that Chaucer intended to suppress the Tale +altogether, and make him tell a story in some other place. +</p> + +<p> +4. The quintain; called “fan” or “vane,” because it turned round like +a weather-cock. +</p> + +<p> +5. Referring to the classification of wine, according to its effects on +a man, given in the old “Calendrier des Bergiers,” The man of +choleric temperament has “wine of lion;” the sanguine, “wine of +ape;” the phlegmatic, “wine of sheep;” the melancholic, “wine of +sow.” There is a Rabbinical tradition that, when Noah was planting +vines, Satan slaughtered beside them the four animals named; hence +the effect of wine in making those who drink it display in turn the +characteristics of all the four. +</p> + +<p> +6. The pose: a defluxion or rheum which stops the nose and +obstructs the voice. +</p> + +<p> +7. Bring thee to his lure: A phrase in hawking — to recall a hawk to +the fist; the meaning here is, that the Cook may one day bring the +Manciple to account, or pay him off, for the rebuke of his +drunkenness. +</p> + +<h3>THE TALE. <1></h3> + +<p> +When Phoebus dwelled here in earth adown,<br/> +As olde bookes make mentioun,<br/> +He was the moste lusty* bacheler *pleasant<br/> +Of all this world, and eke* the best archer. *also<br/> +He slew Python the serpent, as he lay<br/> +Sleeping against the sun upon a day;<br/> +And many another noble worthy deed<br/> +He with his bow wrought, as men maye read.<br/> +Playen he could on every minstrelsy,<br/> +And singe, that it was a melody<br/> +To hearen of his cleare voice the soun’.<br/> +Certes the king of Thebes, Amphioun,<br/> +That with his singing walled the city,<br/> +Could never singe half so well as he.<br/> +Thereto he was the seemlieste man<br/> +That is, or was since that the world began;<br/> +What needeth it his features to descrive?<br/> +For in this world is none so fair alive.<br/> +He was therewith full fill’d of gentleness,<br/> +Of honour, and of perfect worthiness. +</p> + +<p> +This Phoebus, that was flower of bach’lery,<br/> +As well in freedom* as in chivalry, *generosity<br/> +For his disport, in sign eke of victory<br/> +Of Python, so as telleth us the story,<br/> +Was wont to bearen in his hand a bow.<br/> +Now had this Phoebus in his house a crow,<br/> +Which in a cage he foster’d many a day,<br/> +And taught it speaken, as men teach a jay.<br/> +White was this crow, as is a snow-white swan,<br/> +And counterfeit the speech of every man<br/> +He coulde, when he shoulde tell a tale.<br/> +Therewith in all this world no nightingale<br/> +Ne coulde by an hundred thousand deal* *part<br/> +Singe so wondrous merrily and well.<br/> +Now had this Phoebus in his house a wife;<br/> +Which that he loved more than his life.<br/> +And night and day did ever his diligence<br/> +Her for to please, and do her reverence:<br/> +Save only, if that I the sooth shall sayn,<br/> +Jealous he was, and would have kept her fain.<br/> +For him were loth y-japed* for to be; *tricked, deceived<br/> +And so is every wight in such degree;<br/> +But all for nought, for it availeth nought.<br/> +A good wife, that is clean of work and thought,<br/> +Should not be kept in none await* certain: *observation<br/> +And truely the labour is in vain<br/> +To keep a shrewe,* for it will not be. *ill-disposed woman<br/> +This hold I for a very nicety,* *sheer folly<br/> +To spille* labour for to keepe wives; *lose +</p> + +<p> +Thus writen olde clerkes in their lives.<br/> +But now to purpose, as I first began.<br/> +This worthy Phoebus did all that he can<br/> +To please her, weening, through such pleasance,<br/> +And for his manhood and his governance,<br/> +That no man should have put him from her grace;<br/> +But, God it wot, there may no man embrace<br/> +As to distrain* a thing, which that nature *succeed in constraining<br/> +Hath naturally set in a creature.<br/> +Take any bird, and put it in a cage,<br/> +And do all thine intent, and thy corage,* *what thy heart prompts<br/> +To foster it tenderly with meat and drink<br/> +Of alle dainties that thou canst bethink,<br/> +And keep it all so cleanly as thou may;<br/> +Although the cage of gold be never so gay,<br/> +Yet had this bird, by twenty thousand fold,<br/> +Lever* in a forest, both wild and cold, *rather<br/> +Go eate wormes, and such wretchedness.<br/> +For ever this bird will do his business<br/> +T’escape out of his cage when that he may:<br/> +His liberty the bird desireth aye. <2><br/> +Let take a cat, and foster her with milk<br/> +And tender flesh, and make her couch of silk,<br/> +And let her see a mouse go by the wall,<br/> +Anon she weiveth* milk, and flesh, and all, *forsaketh<br/> +And every dainty that is in that house,<br/> +Such appetite hath she to eat the mouse.<br/> +Lo, here hath kind* her domination, *nature<br/> +And appetite flemeth* discretion. *drives out<br/> +A she-wolf hath also a villain’s kind<br/> +The lewedeste wolf that she may find,<br/> +Or least of reputation, will she take<br/> +In time when *her lust* to have a make.* *she desires *mate<br/> +All these examples speak I by* these men *with reference to<br/> +That be untrue, and nothing by women.<br/> +For men have ever a lik’rous appetite<br/> +On lower things to perform their delight<br/> +Than on their wives, be they never so fair,<br/> +Never so true, nor so debonair.* *gentle, mild<br/> +Flesh is so newefangled, *with mischance,* *ill luck to it*<br/> +That we can in no thinge have pleasance<br/> +That *souneth unto* virtue any while. *accords with +</p> + +<p> +This Phoebus, which that thought upon no guile,<br/> +Deceived was for all his jollity;<br/> +For under him another hadde she,<br/> +A man of little reputation,<br/> +Nought worth to Phoebus in comparison.<br/> +The more harm is; it happens often so,<br/> +Of which there cometh muche harm and woe.<br/> +And so befell, when Phoebus was absent,<br/> +His wife anon hath for her leman* sent. *unlawful lover<br/> +Her leman! certes that is a knavish speech.<br/> +Forgive it me, and that I you beseech.<br/> +The wise Plato saith, as ye may read,<br/> +The word must needs accorde with the deed;<br/> +If men shall telle properly a thing,<br/> +The word must cousin be to the working.<br/> +I am a boistous* man, right thus I say. *rough-spoken, downright<br/> +There is no difference truely<br/> +Betwixt a wife that is of high degree<br/> +(If of her body dishonest she be),<br/> +And any poore wench, other than this<br/> +(If it so be they worke both amiss),<br/> +But, for* the gentle is in estate above, *because<br/> +She shall be call’d his lady and his love;<br/> +And, for that other is a poor woman,<br/> +She shall be call’d his wench and his leman:<br/> +And God it wot, mine owen deare brother,<br/> +Men lay the one as low as lies the other.<br/> +Right so betwixt a *titleless tyrant* *usurper*<br/> +And an outlaw, or else a thief errant, *wandering<br/> +The same I say, there is no difference<br/> +(To Alexander told was this sentence),<br/> +But, for the tyrant is of greater might<br/> +By force of meinie* for to slay downright, *followers<br/> +And burn both house and home, and make all plain,* *level<br/> +Lo, therefore is he call’d a capitain;<br/> +And, for the outlaw hath but small meinie,<br/> +And may not do so great an harm as he,<br/> +Nor bring a country to so great mischief,<br/> +Men calle him an outlaw or a thief.<br/> +But, for I am a man not textuel, *learned in texts<br/> +I will not tell of texts never a deal;* *whit<br/> +I will go to my tale, as I began. +</p> + +<p> +When Phoebus’ wife had sent for her leman,<br/> +Anon they wroughten all their *lust volage.* *light or rash pleasure*<br/> +This white crow, that hung aye in the cage,<br/> +Beheld their work, and said never a word;<br/> +And when that home was come Phoebus the lord,<br/> +This crowe sung, “Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo!”<br/> +“What? bird,” quoth Phoebus, “what song sing’st thou now?<br/> +Wert thou not wont so merrily to sing,<br/> +That to my heart it was a rejoicing<br/> +To hear thy voice? alas! what song is this?”<br/> +“By God,” quoth he, “I singe not amiss.<br/> +Phoebus,” quoth he, “for all thy worthiness,<br/> +For all thy beauty, and all thy gentleness,<br/> +For all thy song, and all thy minstrelsy,<br/> +*For all thy waiting, bleared is thine eye* *despite all thy watching,<br/> +With one of little reputation, thou art befooled*<br/> +Not worth to thee, as in comparison,<br/> +The mountance* of a gnat, so may I thrive; *value<br/> +For on thy bed thy wife I saw him swive.”<br/> +What will ye more? the crow anon him told,<br/> +By sade* tokens, and by wordes bold, *grave, trustworthy<br/> +How that his wife had done her lechery,<br/> +To his great shame and his great villainy;<br/> +And told him oft, he saw it with his eyen.<br/> +This Phoebus gan awayward for to wrien;* *turn aside<br/> +Him thought his woeful hearte burst in two.<br/> +His bow he bent, and set therein a flo,* *arrow<br/> +And in his ire he hath his wife slain;<br/> +This is th’ effect, there is no more to sayn.<br/> +For sorrow of which he brake his minstrelsy,<br/> +Both harp and lute, gitern* and psaltery; *guitar<br/> +And eke he brake his arrows and his bow;<br/> +And after that thus spake he to the crow. +</p> + +<p> +“Traitor,” quoth he, “with tongue of scorpion,<br/> +Thou hast me brought to my confusion;<br/> +Alas that I was wrought!* why n’ere** I dead? *made **was not<br/> +O deare wife, O gem of lustihead,* *pleasantness<br/> +That wert to me so sad,* and eke so true, *steadfast<br/> +Now liest thou dead, with face pale of hue,<br/> +Full guilteless, that durst I swear y-wis!* *certainly<br/> +O rakel* hand, to do so foul amiss *rash, hasty<br/> +O troubled wit, O ire reckeless,<br/> +That unadvised smit’st the guilteless!<br/> +O wantrust,* full of false suspicion! *distrust <3><br/> +Where was thy wit and thy discretion?<br/> +O! every man beware of rakelness,* *rashness<br/> +Nor trow* no thing withoute strong witness. *believe<br/> +Smite not too soon, ere that ye weete* why, *know<br/> +And *be advised* well and sickerly** *consider* *surely<br/> +Ere ye *do any execution *take any action<br/> +Upon your ire* for suspicion. upon your anger*<br/> +Alas! a thousand folk hath rakel ire<br/> +Foully fordone, and brought them in the mire.<br/> +Alas! for sorrow I will myself slee* *slay<br/> +And to the crow, “O false thief,” said he,<br/> +“I will thee quite anon thy false tale.<br/> +Thou sung whilom* like any nightingale, *once on a time<br/> +Now shalt thou, false thief, thy song foregon,* *lose<br/> +And eke thy white feathers every one,<br/> +Nor ever in all thy life shalt thou speak;<br/> +Thus shall men on a traitor be awreak. *revenged<br/> +Thou and thine offspring ever shall be blake,* *black<br/> +Nor ever sweete noise shall ye make,<br/> +But ever cry against* tempest and rain, *before, in warning of<br/> +In token that through thee my wife is slain.”<br/> +And to the crow he start,* and that anon, *sprang<br/> +And pull’d his white feathers every one,<br/> +And made him black, and reft him all his song,<br/> +And eke his speech, and out at door him flung<br/> +Unto the devil, *which I him betake;* *to whom I commend him*<br/> +And for this cause be all crowes blake.<br/> +Lordings, by this ensample, I you pray,<br/> +Beware, and take keep* what that ye say; *heed<br/> +Nor telle never man in all your life<br/> +How that another man hath dight his wife;<br/> +He will you hate mortally certain.<br/> +Dan Solomon, as wise clerkes sayn,<br/> +Teacheth a man to keep his tongue well;<br/> +But, as I said, I am not textuel.<br/> +But natheless thus taughte me my dame;<br/> +“My son, think on the crow, in Godde’s name.<br/> +My son, keep well thy tongue, and keep thy friend;<br/> +A wicked tongue is worse than is a fiend:<br/> +My sone, from a fiend men may them bless.* *defend by crossing<br/> +My son, God of his endeless goodness themselves<br/> +Walled a tongue with teeth, and lippes eke,<br/> +For* man should him advise,** what he speak. *because **consider<br/> +My son, full often for too muche speech<br/> +Hath many a man been spilt,* as clerkes teach; *destroyed<br/> +But for a little speech advisedly<br/> +Is no man shent,* to speak generally. *ruined<br/> +My son, thy tongue shouldest thou restrain<br/> +At alle time, *but when thou dost thy pain* *except when you do<br/> +To speak of God in honour and prayere. your best effort*<br/> +The firste virtue, son, if thou wilt lear,* *learn<br/> +Is to restrain and keepe well thy tongue;<4><br/> +Thus learne children, when that they be young.<br/> +My son, of muche speaking evil advis’d,<br/> +Where lesse speaking had enough suffic’d,<br/> +Cometh much harm; thus was me told and taught;<br/> +In muche speeche sinne wanteth not.<br/> +Wost* thou whereof a rakel** tongue serveth? *knowest **hasty<br/> +Right as a sword forcutteth and forcarveth<br/> +An arm in two, my deare son, right so<br/> +A tongue cutteth friendship all in two.<br/> +A jangler* is to God abominable. *prating man<br/> +Read Solomon, so wise and honourable;<br/> +Read David in his Psalms, and read Senec’.<br/> +My son, speak not, but with thine head thou beck,* *beckon, nod<br/> +Dissimule as thou wert deaf, if that thou hear<br/> +A jangler speak of perilous mattere.<br/> +The Fleming saith, and learn *if that thee lest,* **if it please thee*<br/> +That little jangling causeth muche rest.<br/> +My son, if thou no wicked word hast said,<br/> +*Thee thar not dreade for to be bewray’d;* *thou hast no need to<br/> +But he that hath missaid, I dare well sayn, fear to be betrayed*<br/> +He may by no way call his word again.<br/> +Thing that is said is said, and forth it go’th, <5><br/> +Though him repent, or be he ne’er so loth;<br/> +He is his thrall,* to whom that he hath said *slave<br/> +A tale, *of which he is now evil apaid.* *which he now regrets*<br/> +My son, beware, and be no author new<br/> +Of tidings, whether they be false or true; <6><br/> +Whereso thou come, amonges high or low,<br/> +Keep well thy tongue, and think upon the crow.” +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Manciple’s Tale +</p> + +<p> +1. “The fable of ‘The Crow,’ says Tyrwhitt, “which is the +subject of the Manciple’s Tale, has been related by so many +authors, from Ovid down to Gower, that it is impossible to +say whom Chaucer principally followed. His skill in new +dressing an old story was never, perhaps, more successfully +exerted.” +</p> + +<p> +2. See the parallel to this passage in the Squire’s Tale, and +note 34 to that tale. +</p> + +<p> +3. Wantrust: distrust — want of trust; so “wanhope,” despair - +- want of hope. +</p> + +<p> +4. This is quoted in the French “Romance of the Rose,” from +Cato “De Moribus,” 1. i., dist. 3: “Virtutem primam esse puta +compescere linguam.” (“The first virtue is to be able to +control the tongue”) +</p> + +<p> +5. “Semel emissum volat irrevocabile verbum.” (“A word once +uttered flies away and cannot be called back”) — Horace, +Epist. 1., 18, 71. +</p> + +<p> +6. This caution is also from Cato “De Moribus,” 1. i., dist. +12: “Rumoris fuge ne incipias novus auctor haberi.” (“Do not +pass on rumours or be the author of new ones”) +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap28"></a>THE PARSON’S TALE.</h2> + +<h3>THE PROLOGUE.</h3> + +<p> +By that the Manciple his tale had ended,<br/> +The sunne from the south line was descended<br/> +So lowe, that it was not to my sight<br/> +Degrees nine-and-twenty as in height.<br/> +Four of the clock it was then, as I guess,<br/> +For eleven foot, a little more or less,<br/> +My shadow was at thilke time, as there,<br/> +Of such feet as my lengthe parted were<br/> +In six feet equal of proportion.<br/> +Therewith the moone’s exaltation,* *rising<br/> +*In meane* Libra, gan alway ascend, *in the middle of*<br/> +As we were ent’ring at a thorpe’s* end. *village’s<br/> +For which our Host, as he was wont to gie,* *govern<br/> +As in this case, our jolly company,<br/> +Said in this wise; “Lordings every one,<br/> +Now lacketh us no more tales than one.<br/> +Fulfill’d is my sentence and my decree;<br/> +I trow that we have heard of each degree.* from each class or rank<br/> +Almost fulfilled is mine ordinance; in the company<br/> +I pray to God so give him right good chance<br/> +That telleth us this tale lustily.<br/> +Sir Priest,” quoth he, “art thou a vicary?* *vicar<br/> +Or art thou a Parson? say sooth by thy fay.* *faith<br/> +Be what thou be, breake thou not our play;<br/> +For every man, save thou, hath told his tale.<br/> +Unbuckle, and shew us what is in thy mail.* *wallet<br/> +For truely me thinketh by thy cheer<br/> +Thou shouldest knit up well a great mattere.<br/> +Tell us a fable anon, for cocke’s bones.” +</p> + +<p> +This Parson him answered all at ones;<br/> +“Thou gettest fable none y-told for me,<br/> +For Paul, that writeth unto Timothy,<br/> +Reproveth them that *weive soothfastness,* *forsake truth*<br/> +And telle fables, and such wretchedness.<br/> +Why should I sowe draff* out of my fist, *chaff, refuse<br/> +When I may sowe wheat, if that me list?<br/> +For which I say, if that you list to hear<br/> +Morality and virtuous mattere,<br/> +And then that ye will give me audience,<br/> +I would full fain at Christe’s reverence<br/> +Do you pleasance lawful, as I can.<br/> +But, truste well, I am a southern man,<br/> +I cannot gest,* rom, ram, ruf, <1> by my letter; *relate stories<br/> +And, God wot, rhyme hold I but little better.<br/> +And therefore if you list, I will not glose,* *mince matters<br/> +I will you tell a little tale in prose,<br/> +To knit up all this feast, and make an end.<br/> +And Jesus for his grace wit me send<br/> +To shewe you the way, in this voyage,<br/> +Of thilke perfect glorious pilgrimage, <2><br/> +That hight Jerusalem celestial.<br/> +And if ye vouchesafe, anon I shall<br/> +Begin upon my tale, for which I pray<br/> +Tell your advice,* I can no better say. *opinion<br/> +But natheless this meditation<br/> +I put it aye under correction<br/> +Of clerkes,* for I am not textuel; *scholars<br/> +I take but the sentence,* trust me well. *meaning, sense<br/> +Therefore I make a protestation,<br/> +That I will stande to correction.”<br/> +Upon this word we have assented soon;<br/> +For, as us seemed, it was *for to do’n,* *a thing worth doing*<br/> +To enden in some virtuous sentence,* *discourse<br/> +And for to give him space and audience;<br/> +And bade our Host he shoulde to him say<br/> +That alle we to tell his tale him pray.<br/> +Our Hoste had. the wordes for us all:<br/> +“Sir Priest,” quoth he, “now faire you befall;<br/> +Say what you list, and we shall gladly hear.”<br/> +And with that word he said in this mannere;<br/> +“Telle,” quoth he, “your meditatioun,<br/> +But hasten you, the sunne will adown.<br/> +Be fructuous,* and that in little space; *fruitful; profitable<br/> +And to do well God sende you his grace.” +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Prologue to the Parson’s Tale +</p> + +<p> +1. Rom, ram, ruf: a contemptuous reference to the alliterative +poetry which was at that time very popular, in preference even, +it would seem, to rhyme, in the northern parts of the country, +where the language was much more barbarous and unpolished +than in the south. +</p> + +<p> +2. Perfect glorious pilgrimage: the word is used here to signify +the shrine, or destination, to which pilgrimage is made. +</p> + +<h3>THE TALE. <1></h3> + +<p> +[The Parson begins his “little treatise” -(which, if given at +length, would extend to about thirty of these pages, and which +cannot by any stretch of courtesy or fancy be said to merit the +title of a “Tale”) in these words: —] +</p> + +<p> +Our sweet Lord God of Heaven, that no man will perish, but +will that we come all to the knowledge of him, and to the +blissful life that is perdurable [everlasting], admonishes us by +the prophet Jeremiah, that saith in this wise: “Stand upon the +ways, and see and ask of old paths, that is to say, of old +sentences, which is the good way, and walk in that way, and ye +shall find refreshing for your souls,” <2> &c. Many be the +spiritual ways that lead folk to our Lord Jesus Christ, and to the +reign of glory; of which ways there is a full noble way, and full +convenable, which may not fail to man nor to woman, that +through sin hath misgone from the right way of Jerusalem +celestial; and this way is called penitence. Of which men should +gladly hearken and inquire with all their hearts, to wit what is +penitence, and whence it is called penitence, and in what +manner, and in how many manners, be the actions or workings +of penitence, and how many species there be of penitences, and +what things appertain and behove to penitence, and what things +disturb penitence. +</p> + +<p> +[Penitence is described, on the authority of Saints Ambrose, +Isidore, and Gregory, as the bewailing of sin that has been +wrought, with the purpose never again to do that thing, or any +other thing which a man should bewail; for weeping and not +ceasing to do the sin will not avail — though it is to be hoped +that after every time that a man falls, be it ever so often, he may +find grace to arise through penitence. And repentant folk that +leave their sin ere sin leave them, are accounted by Holy Church +sure of their salvation, even though the repentance be at the last +hour. There are three actions of penitence; that a man be +baptized after he has sinned; that he do no deadly sin after +receiving baptism; and that he fall into no venial sins from day +to day. “Thereof saith St Augustine, that penitence of good and +humble folk is the penitence of every day.” The species of +penitence are three: solemn, when a man is openly expelled +from Holy Church in Lent, or is compelled by Holy Church to +do open penance for an open sin openly talked of in the +country; common penance, enjoined by priests in certain cases, +as to go on pilgrimage naked or barefoot; and privy penance, +which men do daily for private sins, of which they confess +privately and receive private penance. To very perfect penitence +are behoveful and necessary three things: contrition of heart, +confession of mouth, and satisfaction; which are fruitful +penitence against delight in thinking, reckless speech, and +wicked sinful works. +</p> + +<p> +Penitence may be likened to a tree, having its root in contrition, +biding itself in the heart as a tree-root does in the earth; out of +this root springs a stalk, that bears branches and leaves of +confession, and fruit of satisfaction. Of this root also springs a +seed of grace, which is mother of all security, and this seed is +eager and hot; and the grace of this seed springs of God, +through remembrance on the day of judgment and on the pains +of hell. The heat of this seed is the love of God, and the desire +of everlasting joy; and this heat draws the heart of man to God, +and makes him hate his sin. Penance is the tree of life to them +that receive it. In penance or contrition man shall understand +four things: what is contrition; what are the causes that move a +man to contrition; how he should be contrite; and what +contrition availeth to the soul. Contrition is the heavy and +grievous sorrow that a man receiveth in his heart for his sins, +with earnest purpose to confess and do penance, and never +more to sin. Six causes ought to move a man to contrition: 1. +He should remember him of his sins; 2. He should reflect that +sin putteth a man in great thraldom, and all the greater the +higher is the estate from which he falls; 3. He should dread the +day of doom and the horrible pains of hell; 4. The sorrowful +remembrance of the good deeds that man hath omitted to do +here on earth, and also the good that he hath lost, ought to +make him have contrition; 5. So also ought the remembrance of +the passion that our Lord Jesus Christ suffered for our sins; 6. +And so ought the hope of three things, that is to say, +forgiveness of sin, the gift of grace to do well, and the glory of +heaven with which God shall reward man for his good deeds. — +All these points the Parson illustrates and enforces at length; +waxing especially eloquent under the third head, and plainly +setting forth the sternly realistic notions regarding future +punishments that were entertained in the time of Chaucer:-] <3> +</p> + +<p> +Certes, all the sorrow that a man might make from the +beginning of the world, is but a little thing, at retard of [in +comparison with] the sorrow of hell. The cause why that Job +calleth hell the land of darkness; <4> understand, that he calleth +it land or earth, for it is stable and never shall fail, and dark, for +he that is in hell hath default [is devoid] of light natural; for +certes the dark light, that shall come out of the fire that ever +shall burn, shall turn them all to pain that be in hell, for it +sheweth them the horrible devils that them torment. Covered +with the darkness of death; that is to say, that he that is in hell +shall have default of the sight of God; for certes the sight of +God is the life perdurable [everlasting]. The darkness of death, +be the sins that the wretched man hath done, which that disturb +[prevent] him to see the face of God, right as a dark cloud doth +between us and the sun. Land of misease, because there be three +manner of defaults against three things that folk of this world +have in this present life; that is to say, honours, delights, and +riches. Against honour have they in hell shame and confusion: +for well ye wot, that men call honour the reverence that man +doth to man; but in hell is no honour nor reverence; for certes +no more reverence shall be done there to a king than to a knave +[servant]. For which God saith by the prophet Jeremiah; “The +folk that me despise shall be in despite.” Honour is also called +great lordship. There shall no wight serve other, but of harm +and torment. Honour is also called great dignity and highness; +but in hell shall they be all fortrodden [trampled under foot] of +devils. As God saith, “The horrible devils shall go and come +upon the heads of damned folk;” and this is, forasmuch as the +higher that they were in this present life, the more shall they be +abated [abased] and defouled in hell. Against the riches of this +world shall they have misease [trouble, torment] of poverty, and +this poverty shall be in four things: in default [want] of treasure; +of which David saith, “The rich folk that embraced and oned +[united] all their heart to treasure of this world, shall sleep in the +sleeping of death, and nothing shall they find in their hands of +all their treasure.” And moreover, the misease of hell shall be in +default of meat and drink. For God saith thus by Moses, “They +shall be wasted with hunger, and the birds of hell shall devour +them with bitter death, and the gall of the dragon shall be their +drink, and the venom of the dragon their morsels.” And +furthermore, their misease shall be in default of clothing, for +they shall be naked in body, as of clothing, save the fire in +which they burn, and other filths; and naked shall they be in +soul, of all manner virtues, which that is the clothing of the soul. +Where be then the gay robes, and the soft sheets, and the fine +shirts? Lo, what saith of them the prophet Isaiah, that under +them shall be strewed moths, and their covertures shall be of +worms of hell. And furthermore, their misease shall be in default +of friends, for he is not poor that hath good friends: but there is +no friend; for neither God nor any good creature shall be friend +to them, and evereach of them shall hate other with deadly hate. +The Sons and the daughters shall rebel against father and +mother, and kindred against kindred, and chide and despise each +other, both day and night, as God saith by the prophet Micah. +And the loving children, that whom loved so fleshly each other, +would each of them eat the other if they might. For how should +they love together in the pains of hell, when they hated each +other in the prosperity of this life? For trust well, their fleshly +love was deadly hate; as saith the prophet David; “Whoso +loveth wickedness, he hateth his own soul:” and whoso hateth +his own soul, certes he may love none other wight in no +manner: and therefore in hell is no solace nor no friendship, but +ever the more kindreds that be in hell, the more cursing, the +more chiding, and the more deadly hate there is among them. +And furtherover, they shall have default of all manner delights; +for certes delights be after the appetites of the five wits +[senses]; as sight, hearing, smelling, savouring [tasting], and +touching. But in hell their sight shall be full of darkness and of +smoke, and their eyes full of tears; and their hearing full of +waimenting [lamenting] and grinting [gnashing] of teeth, as +saith Jesus Christ; their nostrils shall be full of stinking; and, as +saith Isaiah the prophet, their savouring [tasting] shall be full of +bitter gall; and touching of all their body shall be covered with +fire that never shall quench, and with worms that never shall +die, as God saith by the mouth of Isaiah. And forasmuch as they +shall not ween that they may die for pain, and by death flee from +pain, that may they understand in the word of Job, that saith, +“There is the shadow of death.” Certes a shadow hath the +likeness of the thing of which it is shadowed, but the shadow is +not the same thing of which it is shadowed: right so fareth the +pain of hell; it is like death, for the horrible anguish; and why? +for it paineth them ever as though they should die anon; but +certes they shall not die. For, as saith Saint Gregory, “To +wretched caitiffs shall be given death without death, and end +without end, and default without failing; for their death shall +always live, and their end shall evermore begin, and their default +shall never fail.” And therefore saith Saint John the Evangelist, +“They shall follow death, and they shall not find him, and they +shall desire to die, and death shall flee from them.” And eke Job +saith, that in hell is no order of rule. And albeit that God hath +created all things in right order, and nothing without order, but +all things be ordered and numbered, yet nevertheless they that +be damned be not in order, nor hold no order. For the earth +shall bear them no fruit (for, as the prophet David saith, “God +shall destroy the fruit of the earth, as for them”); nor water shall +give them no moisture, nor the air no refreshing, nor the fire no +light. For as saith Saint Basil, “The burning of the fire of this +world shall God give in hell to them that be damned, but the +light and the clearness shall be given in heaven to his children; +right as the good man giveth flesh to his children, and bones to +his hounds.” And for they shall have no hope to escape, saith +Job at last, that there shall horror and grisly dread dwell without +end. Horror is always dread of harm that is to come, and this +dread shall ever dwell in the hearts of them that be damned. +And therefore have they lost all their hope for seven causes. +First, for God that is their judge shall be without mercy to them; +nor they may not please him; nor none of his hallows [saints]; +nor they may give nothing for their ransom; nor they have no +voice to speak to him; nor they may not flee from pain; nor they +have no goodness in them that they may shew to deliver them +from pain. +</p> + +<p> +[Under the fourth head, of good works, the Parson says: —] +</p> + +<p> +The courteous Lord Jesus Christ will that no good work be lost, +for in somewhat it shall avail. But forasmuch as the good works +that men do while they be in good life be all amortised [killed, +deadened] by sin following, and also since all the good works +that men do while they be in deadly sin be utterly dead, as for to +have the life perdurable [everlasting], well may that man that no +good works doth, sing that new French song, J’ai tout perdu — +mon temps et mon labour <5>. For certes, sin bereaveth a man +both the goodness of nature, and eke the goodness of grace. +For soothly the grace of the Holy Ghost fareth like fire, that +may not be idle; for fire faileth anon as it forleteth [leaveth] its +working, and right so grace faileth anon as it forleteth its +working. Then loseth the sinful man the goodness of glory, that +only is to good men that labour and work. Well may he be sorry +then, that oweth all his life to God, as long as he hath lived, and +also as long as he shall live, that no goodness hath to pay with +his debt to God, to whom he oweth all his life: for trust well he +shall give account, as saith Saint Bernard, of all the goods that +have been given him in his present life, and how he hath them +dispended, insomuch that there shall not perish an hair of his +head, nor a moment of an hour shall not perish of his time, that +he shall not give thereof a reckoning. +</p> + +<p> +[Having treated of the causes, the Parson comes to the manner, +of contrition — which should be universal and total, not merely +of outward deeds of sin, but also of wicked delights and +thoughts and words; “for certes Almighty God is all good, and +therefore either he forgiveth all, or else right naught.” Further, +contrition should be “wonder sorrowful and anguishous,” and +also continual, with steadfast purpose of confession and +amendment. Lastly, of what contrition availeth, the Parson says, +that sometimes it delivereth man from sin; that without it neither +confession nor satisfaction is of any worth; that it “destroyeth +the prison of hell, and maketh weak and feeble all the strengths +of the devils, and restoreth the gifts of the Holy Ghost and of all +good virtues, and cleanseth the soul of sin, and delivereth it +from the pain of hell, and from the company of the devil, and +from the servage [slavery] of sin, and restoreth it to all goods +spiritual, and to the company and communion of Holy Church.” +He who should set his intent to these things, would no longer be +inclined to sin, but would give his heart and body to the service +of Jesus Christ, and thereof do him homage. “For, certes, our +Lord Jesus Christ hath spared us so benignly in our follies, that +if he had not pity on man’s soul, a sorry song might we all sing.” +</p> + +<p> +The Second Part of the Parson’s Tale or Treatise opens with an +explanation of what is confession — which is termed “the +second part of penitence, that is, sign of contrition;” whether it +ought needs be done or not; and what things be convenable to +true confession. Confession is true shewing of sins to the priest, +without excusing, hiding, or forwrapping [disguising] of +anything, and without vaunting of good works. “Also, it is +necessary to understand whence that sins spring, and how they +increase, and which they be.” From Adam we took original sin; +“from him fleshly descended be we all, and engendered of vile +and corrupt matter;” and the penalty of Adam’s transgression +dwelleth with us as to temptation, which penalty is called +concupiscence. “This concupiscence, when it is wrongfully +disposed or ordained in a man, it maketh him covet, by covetise +of flesh, fleshly sin by sight of his eyes, as to earthly things, and +also covetise of highness by pride of heart.” The Parson +proceeds to shew how man is tempted in his flesh to sin; how, +after his natural concupiscence, comes suggestion of the devil, +that is to say the devil’s bellows, with which he bloweth in man +the fire of con cupiscence; and how man then bethinketh him +whether he will do or no the thing to which he is tempted. If he +flame up into pleasure at the thought, and give way, then is he +all dead in soul; “and thus is sin accomplished, by temptation, by +delight, and by consenting; and then is the sin actual.” Sin is +either venial, or deadly; deadly, when a man loves any creature +more than Jesus Christ our Creator, venial, if he love Jesus +Christ less than he ought. Venial sins diminish man’s love to +God more and more, and may in this wise skip into deadly sin; +for many small make a great. “And hearken this example: A +great wave of the sea cometh sometimes with so great a +violence, that it drencheth [causes to sink] the ship: and the +same harm do sometimes the small drops, of water that enter +through a little crevice in the thurrok [hold, bilge], and in the +bottom of the ship, if men be so negligent that they discharge +them not betimes. And therefore, although there be difference +betwixt these two causes of drenching, algates [in any case] the +ship is dreint [sunk]. Right so fareth it sometimes of deadly sin,” +and of venial sins when they multiply in a man so greatly as to +make him love worldly things more than God. The Parson then +enumerates specially a number of sins which many a man +peradventure deems no sins, and confesses them not, and yet +nevertheless they are truly sins: — ] +</p> + +<p> +This is to say, at every time that a man eateth and drinketh more +than sufficeth to the sustenance of his body, in certain he doth +sin; eke when he speaketh more than it needeth, he doth sin; eke +when he heareth not benignly the complaint of the poor; eke +when he is in health of body, and will not fast when other folk +fast, without cause reasonable; eke when he sleepeth more than +needeth, or when he cometh by that occasion too late to church, +or to other works of charity; eke when he useth his wife without +sovereign desire of engendrure, to the honour of God, or for the +intent to yield his wife his debt of his body; eke when he will not +visit the sick, or the prisoner, if he may; eke if he love wife, or +child, or other worldly thing, more than reason requireth; eke if +he flatter or blandish more than he ought for any necessity; eke +if he minish or withdraw the alms of the poor; eke if he apparail +[prepare] his meat more deliciously than need is, or eat it too +hastily by likerousness [gluttony]; eke if he talk vanities in the +church, or at God’s service, or that he be a talker of idle words +of folly or villainy, for he shall yield account of them at the day +of doom; eke when he behighteth [promiseth] or assureth to do +things that he may not perform; eke when that by lightness of +folly he missayeth or scorneth his neighbour; eke when he hath +any wicked suspicion of thing, that he wot of it no +soothfastness: these things, and more without number, be sins, +as saith Saint Augustine. +</p> + +<p> +[No earthly man may eschew all venial sins; yet may he refrain +him, by the burning love that he hath to our Lord Jesus Christ, +and by prayer and confession, and other good works, so that it +shall but little grieve. “Furthermore, men may also refrain and +put away venial sin, by receiving worthily the precious body of +Jesus Christ; by receiving eke of holy water; by alms-deed; by +general confession of Confiteor at mass, and at prime, and at +compline [evening service]; and by blessing of bishops and +priests, and by other good works.” The Parson then proceeds to +weightier matters:— ] +</p> + +<p> +Now it is behovely [profitable, necessary] to tell which be +deadly sins, that is to say, chieftains of sins; forasmuch as all +they run in one leash, but in diverse manners. Now be they +called chieftains, forasmuch as they be chief, and of them spring +all other sins. The root of these sins, then, is pride, the general +root of all harms. For of this root spring certain branches: as ire, +envy, accidie <6> or sloth, avarice or covetousness (to common +understanding), gluttony, and lechery: and each of these sins +hath his branches and his twigs, as shall be declared in their +chapters following. And though so be, that no man can tell +utterly the number of the twigs, and of the harms that come of +pride, yet will I shew a part of them, as ye shall understand. +There is inobedience, vaunting, hypocrisy, despite, arrogance, +impudence, swelling of hearte, insolence, elation, impatience, +strife, contumacy, presumption, irreverence, pertinacity, vain- +glory and many another twig that I cannot tell nor declare. . . .] +</p> + +<p> +And yet [moreover] there is a privy species of pride that waiteth +first to be saluted ere he will salute, all [although] be he less +worthy than that other is; and eke he waiteth [expecteth] or +desireth to sit or to go above him in the way, or kiss the pax, +<7> or be incensed, or go to offering before his neighbour, and +such semblable [like] things, against his duty peradventure, but +that he hath his heart and his intent in such a proud desire to be +magnified and honoured before the people. Now be there two +manner of prides; the one of them is within the heart of a man, +and the other is without. Of which soothly these foresaid things, +and more than I have said, appertain to pride that is within the +heart of a man and there be other species of pride that be +without: but nevertheless, the one of these species of pride is +sign of the other, right as the gay levesell [bush] at the tavern is +sign of the wine that is in the cellar. And this is in many things: +as in speech and countenance, and outrageous array of clothing; +for certes, if there had been no sin in clothing, Christ would not +so soon have noted and spoken of the clothing of that rich man +in the gospel. And Saint Gregory saith, that precious clothing is +culpable for the dearth [dearness] of it, and for its softness, and +for its strangeness and disguising, and for the superfluity or for +the inordinate scantness of it; alas! may not a man see in our +days the sinful costly array of clothing, and namely [specially] in +too much superfluity, or else in too disordinate scantness? As to +the first sin, in superfluity of clothing, which that maketh it so +dear, to the harm of the people, not only the cost of the +embroidering, the disguising, indenting or barring, ounding, +paling, <8> winding, or banding, and semblable [similar] waste +of cloth in vanity; but there is also the costly furring [lining or +edging with fur] in their gowns, so much punching of chisels to +make holes, so much dagging [cutting] of shears, with the +superfluity in length of the foresaid gowns, trailing in the dung +and in the mire, on horse and eke on foot, as well of man as of +woman, that all that trailing is verily (as in effect) wasted, +consumed, threadbare, and rotten with dung, rather than it is +given to the poor, to great damage of the foresaid poor folk, +and that in sundry wise: this is to say, the more that cloth is +wasted, the more must it cost to the poor people for the +scarceness; and furthermore, if so be that they would give such +punched and dagged clothing to the poor people, it is not +convenient to wear for their estate, nor sufficient to boot [help, +remedy] their necessity, to keep them from the distemperance +[inclemency] of the firmament. Upon the other side, to speak of +the horrible disordinate scantness of clothing, as be these cutted +slops or hanselines [breeches] , that through their shortness +cover not the shameful member of man, to wicked intent alas! +some of them shew the boss and the shape of the horrible +swollen members, that seem like to the malady of hernia, in the +wrapping of their hosen, and eke the buttocks of them, that fare +as it were the hinder part of a she-ape in the full of the moon. +And more over the wretched swollen members that they shew +through disguising, in departing [dividing] of their hosen in +white and red, seemeth that half their shameful privy members +were flain [flayed]. And if so be that they depart their hosen in +other colours, as is white and blue, or white and black, or black +and red, and so forth; then seemeth it, by variance of colour, +that the half part of their privy members be corrupt by the fire +of Saint Anthony, or by canker, or other such mischance. And +of the hinder part of their buttocks it is full horrible to see, for +certes, in that part of their body where they purge their stinking +ordure, that foul part shew they to the people proudly in despite +of honesty [decency], which honesty Jesus Christ and his friends +observed to shew in his life. Now as of the outrageous array of +women, God wot, that though the visages of some of them +seem full chaste and debonair [gentle], yet notify they, in their +array of attire, likerousness and pride. I say not that honesty +[reasonable and appropriate style] in clothing of man or woman +unconvenable but, certes, the superfluity or disordinate scarcity +of clothing is reprovable. Also the sin of their ornament, or of +apparel, as in things that appertain to riding, as in too many +delicate horses, that be holden for delight, that be so fair, fat, +and costly; and also in many a vicious knave, [servant] that is +sustained because of them; in curious harness, as in saddles, +cruppers, peytrels, [breast-plates] and bridles, covered with +precious cloth and rich bars and plates of gold and silver. For +which God saith by Zechariah the prophet, “I will confound the +riders of such horses.” These folk take little regard of the riding +of God’s Son of heaven, and of his harness, when he rode upon +an ass, and had no other harness but the poor clothes of his +disciples; nor we read not that ever he rode on any other beast. +I speak this for the sin of superfluity, and not for reasonable +honesty [seemliness], when reason it requireth. And moreover, +certes, pride is greatly notified in holding of great meinie +[retinue of servants], when they be of little profit or of right no +profit, and namely [especially] when that meinie is felonous +[violent ] and damageous [harmful] to the people by hardiness +[arrogance] of high lordship, or by way of office; for certes, +such lords sell then their lordship to the devil of hell, when they +sustain the wickedness of their meinie. Or else, when these folk +of low degree, as they that hold hostelries, sustain theft of their +hostellers, and that is in many manner of deceits: that manner of +folk be the flies that follow the honey, or else the hounds that +follow the carrion. Such foresaid folk strangle spiritually their +lordships; for which thus saith David the prophet, “Wicked +death may come unto these lordships, and God give that they +may descend into hell adown; for in their houses is iniquity and +shrewedness, [impiety] and not God of heaven.” And certes, but +if [unless] they do amendment, right as God gave his benison +[blessing] to Laban by the service of Jacob, and to Pharaoh by +the service of Joseph; right so God will give his malison +[condemnation] to such lordships as sustain the wickedness of +their servants, but [unless] they come to amendment. Pride of +the table apaireth [worketh harm] eke full oft; for, certes, rich +men be called to feasts, and poor folk be put away and rebuked; +also in excess of divers meats and drinks, and namely [specially] +such manner bake-meats and dish-meats burning of wild fire, +and painted and castled with paper, and semblable [similar] +waste, so that it is abuse to think. And eke in too great +preciousness of vessel, [plate] and curiosity of minstrelsy, by +which a man is stirred more to the delights of luxury, if so be +that he set his heart the less upon our Lord Jesus Christ, certain +it is a sin; and certainly the delights might be so great in this +case, that a man might lightly [easily] fall by them into deadly +sin. +</p> + +<p> +[The sins that arise of pride advisedly and habitually are deadly; +those that arise by frailty unadvised suddenly, and suddenly +withdraw again, though grievous, are not deadly. Pride itself +springs sometimes of the goods of nature, sometimes of the +goods of fortune, sometimes of the goods of grace; but the +Parson, enumerating and examining all these in turn, points out +how little security they possess and how little ground for pride +they furnish, and goes on to enforce the remedy against pride — +which is humility or meekness, a virtue through which a man +hath true knowledge of himself, and holdeth no high esteem of +himself in regard of his deserts, considering ever his frailty.] +</p> + +<p> +Now be there three manners [kinds] of humility; as humility in +heart, and another in the mouth, and the third in works. The +humility in the heart is in four manners: the one is, when a man +holdeth himself as nought worth before God of heaven; the +second is, when he despiseth no other man; the third is, when he +recketh not though men hold him nought worth; the fourth is, +when he is not sorry of his humiliation. Also the humility of +mouth is in four things: in temperate speech; in humility of +speech; and when he confesseth with his own mouth that he is +such as he thinketh that he is in his heart; another is, when he +praiseth the bounte [goodness] of another man and nothing +thereof diminisheth. Humility eke in works is in four manners: +the first is, when he putteth other men before him; the second is, +to choose the lowest place of all; the third is, gladly to assent to +good counsel; the fourth is, to stand gladly by the award +[judgment] of his sovereign, or of him that is higher in degree: +certain this is a great work of humility. +</p> + +<p> +[The Parson proceeds to treat of the other cardinal sins, and +their remedies: (2.) Envy, with its remedy, the love of God +principally and of our neighbours as ourselves: (3.) Anger, with +all its fruits in revenge, rancour, hate, discord, manslaughter, +blasphemy, swearing, falsehood, flattery, chiding and reproving, +scorning, treachery, sowing of strife, doubleness of tongue, +betraying of counsel to a man’s disgrace, menacing, idle words, +jangling, japery or buffoonery, &c. — and its remedy in the +virtues called mansuetude, debonairte, or gentleness, and +patience or sufferance: (4.) Sloth, or “Accidie,” which comes +after the sin of Anger, because Envy blinds the eyes of a man, +and Anger troubleth a man, and Sloth maketh him heavy, +thoughtful, and peevish. It is opposed to every estate of man — +as unfallen, and held to work in praising and adoring God; as +sinful, and held to labour in praying for deliverance from sin; +and as in the state of grace, and held to works of penitence. It +resembles the heavy and sluggish condition of those in hell; it +will suffer no hardness and no penance; it prevents any +beginning of good works; it causes despair of God’s mercy, +which is the sin against the Holy Ghost; it induces somnolency +and neglect of communion in prayer with God; and it breeds +negligence or recklessness, that cares for nothing, and is the +nurse of all mischiefs, if ignorance is their mother. Against +Sloth, and these and other branches and fruits of it, the remedy +lies in the virtue of fortitude or strength, in its various species of +magnanimity or great courage; faith and hope in God and his +saints; surety or sickerness, when a man fears nothing that can +oppose the good works he has under taken; magnificence, when +he carries out great works of goodness begun; constancy or +stableness of heart; and other incentives to energy and laborious +service: (5.) Avarice, or Covetousness, which is the root of all +harms, since its votaries are idolaters, oppressors and enslavers +of men, deceivers of their equals in business, simoniacs, +gamblers, liars, thieves, false swearers, blasphemers, murderers, +and sacrilegious. Its remedy lies in compassion and pity largely +exercised, and in reasonable liberality — for those who spend on +“fool-largesse,” or ostentation of worldly estate and luxury, +shall receive the malison [condemnation] that Christ shall give +at the day of doom to them that shall be damned: (6.) Gluttony; +— of which the Parson treats so briefly that the chapter may be +given in full: — ] +</p> + +<p> +After Avarice cometh Gluttony, which is express against the +commandment of God. Gluttony is unmeasurable appetite to eat +or to drink; or else to do in aught to the unmeasurable appetite +and disordered covetousness [craving] to eat or drink. This sin +corrupted all this world, as is well shewed in the sin of Adam +and of Eve. Look also what saith Saint Paul of gluttony: +“Many,” saith he, “go, of which I have oft said to you, and now +I say it weeping, that they be enemies of the cross of Christ, of +which the end is death, and of which their womb [stomach] is +their God and their glory;” in confusion of them that so savour +[take delight in] earthly things. He that is usant [accustomed, +addicted] to this sin of gluttony, he may no sin withstand, he +must be in servage [bondage] of all vices, for it is the devil’s +hoard, [lair, lurking-place] where he hideth him in and resteth. +This sin hath many species. The first is drunkenness, that is the +horrible sepulture of man’s reason: and therefore when a man is +drunken, he hath lost his reason; and this is deadly sin. But +soothly, when that a man is not wont to strong drink, and +peradventure knoweth not the strength of the drink, or hath +feebleness in his head, or hath travailed [laboured], through +which he drinketh the more, all [although] be he suddenly +caught with drink, it is no deadly sin, but venial. The second +species of gluttony is, that the spirit of a man waxeth all +troubled for drunkenness, and bereaveth a man the discretion of +his wit. The third species of gluttony is, when a man devoureth +his meat, and hath no rightful manner of eating. The fourth is, +when, through the great abundance of his meat, the humours of +his body be distempered. The fifth is, forgetfulness by too much +drinking, for which a man sometimes forgetteth by the morrow +what be did at eve. In other manner be distinct the species of +gluttony, after Saint Gregory. The first is, for to eat or drink +before time. The second is, when a man getteth him too delicate +meat or drink. The third is, when men take too much over +measure [immoderately]. The fourth is curiosity [nicety] with +great intent [application, pains] to make and apparel [prepare] +his meat. The fifth is, for to eat too greedily. These be the five +fingers of the devil’s hand, by which he draweth folk to the sin. +</p> + +<p> +Against gluttony the remedy is abstinence, as saith Galen; but +that I hold not meritorious, if he do it only for the health of his +body. Saint Augustine will that abstinence be done for virtue, +and with patience. Abstinence, saith he, is little worth, but if +[unless] a man have good will thereto, and but it be enforced by +patience and by charity, and that men do it for God’s sake, and +in hope to have the bliss in heaven. The fellows of abstinence be +temperance, that holdeth the mean in all things; also shame, that +escheweth all dishonesty [indecency, impropriety], sufficiency, +that seeketh no rich meats nor drinks, nor doth no force of [sets +no value on] no outrageous apparelling of meat; measure +[moderation] also, that restraineth by reason the unmeasurable +appetite of eating; soberness also, that restraineth the outrage of +drink; sparing also, that restraineth the delicate ease to sit long +at meat, wherefore some folk stand of their own will to eat, +because they will eat at less leisure. +</p> + +<p> +[At great length the Parson then points out the many varieties of +the sin of (7.) Lechery, and its remedy in chastity and +continence, alike in marriage and in widowhood; also in the +abstaining from all such indulgences of eating, drinking, and +sleeping as inflame the passions, and from the company of all +who may tempt to the sin. Minute guidance is given as to the +duty of confessing fully and faithfully the circumstances that +attend and may aggravate this sin; and the Treatise then passes +to the consideration of the conditions that are essential to a true +and profitable confession of sin in general. First, it must be in +sorrowful bitterness of spirit; a condition that has five signs — +shamefastness, humility in heart and outward sign, weeping with +the bodily eyes or in the heart, disregard of the shame that +might curtail or garble confession, and obedience to the penance +enjoined. Secondly, true confession must be promptly made, for +dread of death, of increase of sinfulness, of forgetfulness of +what should be confessed, of Christ’s refusal to hear if it be put +off to the last day of life; and this condition has four terms; that +confession be well pondered beforehand, that the man +confessing have comprehended in his mind the number and +greatness of his sins and how long he has lain in sin, that he be +contrite for and eschew his sins, and that he fear and flee the +occasions for that sin to which he is inclined. — What follows +under this head is of some interest for the light which it throws +on the rigorous government wielded by the Romish Church in +those days —] +</p> + +<p> +Also thou shalt shrive thee of all thy sins to one man, and not a +parcel [portion] to one man, and a parcel to another; that is to +understand, in intent to depart [divide] thy confession for shame +or dread; for it is but strangling of thy soul. For certes Jesus +Christ is entirely all good, in him is none imperfection, and +therefore either he forgiveth all perfectly, or else never a deal +[not at all]. I say not that if thou be assigned to thy penitencer +<9> for a certain sin, that thou art bound to shew him all the +remnant of thy sins, of which thou hast been shriven of thy +curate, but if it like thee [unless thou be pleased] of thy +humility; this is no departing [division] of shrift. And I say not, +where I speak of division of confession, that if thou have license +to shrive thee to a discreet and an honest priest, and where thee +liketh, and by the license of thy curate, that thou mayest not +well shrive thee to him of all thy sins: but let no blot be behind, +let no sin be untold as far as thou hast remembrance. And when +thou shalt be shriven of thy curate, tell him eke all the sins that +thou hast done since thou wert last shriven. This is no wicked +intent of division of shrift. Also, very shrift [true confession] +asketh certain conditions. First, that thou shrive thee by thy +free will, not constrained, nor for shame of folk, nor for malady +[sickness], or such things: for it is reason, that he that +trespasseth by his free will, that by his free will he confess his +trespass; and that no other man tell his sin but himself; nor he +shall not nay nor deny his sin, nor wrath him against the priest +for admonishing him to leave his sin. The second condition is, +that thy shrift be lawful, that is to say, that thou that shrivest +thee, and eke the priest that heareth thy confession, be verily in +the faith of Holy Church, and that a man be not despaired of the +mercy of Jesus Christ, as Cain and Judas were. And eke a man +must accuse himself of his own trespass, and not another: but he +shall blame and wite [accuse] himself of his own malice and of +his sin, and none other: but nevertheless, if that another man be +occasion or else enticer of his sin, or the estate of the person be +such by which his sin is aggravated, or else that be may not +plainly shrive him but [unless] he tell the person with which he +hath sinned, then may he tell, so that his intent be not to +backbite the person, but only to declare his confession. Thou +shalt not eke make no leasings [falsehoods] in thy confession +for humility, peradventure, to say that thou hast committed and +done such sins of which that thou wert never guilty. For Saint +Augustine saith, “If that thou, because of humility, makest a +leasing on thyself, though thou were not in sin before, yet art +thou then in sin through thy leasing.” Thou must also shew thy +sin by thine own proper mouth, but [unless] thou be dumb, and +not by letter; for thou that hast done the sin, thou shalt have the +shame of the confession. Thou shalt not paint thy confession +with fair and subtle words, to cover the more thy sin; for then +beguilest thou thyself, and not the priest; thou must tell it +plainly, be it never so foul nor so horrible. Thou shalt eke shrive +thee to a priest that is discreet to counsel thee; and eke thou +shalt not shrive thee for vain-glory, nor for hypocrisy, nor for +no cause but only for the doubt [fear] of Jesus’ Christ and the +health of thy soul. Thou shalt not run to the priest all suddenly, +to tell him lightly thy sin, as who telleth a jape [jest] or a tale, +but advisedly and with good devotion; and generally shrive thee +oft; if thou oft fall, oft arise by confession. And though thou +shrive thee oftener than once of sin of which thou hast been +shriven, it is more merit; and, as saith Saint Augustine, thou +shalt have the more lightly [easily] release and grace of God, +both of sin and of pain. And certes, once a year at the least way, +it is lawful to be houseled, <10> for soothly once a year all +things in the earth renovelen [renew themselves]. +</p> + +<p> +[Here ends the Second Part of the Treatise; the Third Part, +which contains the practical application of the whole, follows +entire, along with the remarkable “Prayer of Chaucer,” as it +stands in the Harleian Manuscript:—] +</p> + +<p> +De Tertia Parte Poenitentiae. [Of the third part of penitence] +</p> + +<p> +Now have I told you of very [true] confession, that is the +second part of penitence: The third part of penitence is +satisfaction, and that standeth generally in almsdeed and bodily +pain. Now be there three manner of almsdeed: contrition of +heart, where a man offereth himself to God; the second is, to +have pity of the default of his neighbour; the third is, in giving +of good counsel and comfort, ghostly and bodily, where men +have need, and namely [specially] sustenance of man’s food. +And take keep [heed] that a man hath need of these things +generally; he hath need of food, of clothing, and of herberow +[lodging], he hath need of charitable counsel and visiting in +prison and malady, and sepulture of his dead body. And if thou +mayest not visit the needful with thy person, visit them by thy +message and by thy gifts. These be generally alms or works of +charity of them that have temporal riches or discretion in +counselling. Of these works shalt thou hear at the day of doom. +This alms shouldest thou do of thine own proper things, and +hastily [promptly], and privily [secretly] if thou mayest; but +nevertheless, if thou mayest not do it privily, thou shalt not +forbear to do alms, though men see it, so that it be not done for +thank of the world, but only for thank of Jesus Christ. For, as +witnesseth Saint Matthew, chap. v., “A city may not be hid that +is set on a mountain, nor men light not a lantern and put it +under a bushel, but men set it on a candlestick, to light the men +in the house; right so shall your light lighten before men, that +they may see your good works, and glorify your Father that is +in heaven.” +</p> + +<p> +Now as to speak of bodily pain, it is in prayer, in wakings, +[watchings] in fastings, and in virtuous teachings. Of orisons ye +shall understand, that orisons or prayers is to say a piteous will +of heart, that redresseth it in God, and expresseth it by word +outward, to remove harms, and to have things spiritual and +durable, and sometimes temporal things. Of which orisons, +certes in the orison of the Pater noster hath our Lord Jesus +Christ enclosed most things. Certes, it is privileged of three +things in its dignity, for which it is more digne [worthy] than +any other prayer: for Jesus Christ himself made it: and it is +short, for [in order] it should be coude the more lightly, [be +more easily conned or learned] and to withhold [retain] it the +more easy in heart, and help himself the oftener with this orison; +and for a man should be the less weary to say it; and for a man +may not excuse him to learn it, it is so short and so easy: and +for it comprehendeth in itself all good prayers. The exposition +of this holy prayer, that is so excellent and so digne, I betake +[commit] to these masters of theology; save thus much will I +say, when thou prayest that God should forgive thee thy guilts, +as thou forgivest them that they guilt to thee, be full well ware +that thou be not out of charity. This holy orison aminisheth +[lesseneth] eke venial sin, and therefore it appertaineth specially +to penitence. This prayer must be truly said, and in very faith, +and that men pray to God ordinately, discreetly, and devoutly; +and always a man shall put his will to be subject to the will of +God. This orison must eke be said with great humbleness and +full pure, and honestly, and not to the annoyance of any man or +woman. It must eke be continued with the works of charity. It +availeth against the vices of the soul; for, assaith Saint Jerome, +by fasting be saved the vices of the flesh, and by prayer the +vices of the soul +</p> + +<p> +After this thou shalt understand, that bodily pain stands in +waking [watching]. For Jesus Christ saith “Wake and pray, that +ye enter not into temptation.” Ye shall understand also, that +fasting stands in three things: in forbearing of bodily meat and +drink, and in forbearing of worldly jollity, and in forbearing of +deadly sin; this is to say, that a man shall keep him from deadly +sin in all that he may. And thou shalt understand eke, that God +ordained fasting; and to fasting appertain four things: largeness +[generosity] to poor folk; gladness of heart spiritual; not to be +angry nor annoyed nor grudge [murmur] for he fasteth; and also +reasonable hour for to eat by measure; that is to say, a man +should not eat in untime [out of time], nor sit the longer at his +meal for [because] he fasteth. Then shalt thou understand, that +bodily pain standeth in discipline, or teaching, by word, or by +writing, or by ensample. Also in wearing of hairs [haircloth] or +of stamin [coarse hempen cloth], or of habergeons [mail-shirts] +<11> on their naked flesh for Christ’s sake; but ware thee well +that such manner penance of thy flesh make not thine heart +bitter or angry, nor annoyed of thyself; for better is to cast away +thine hair than to cast away the sweetness of our Lord Jesus +Christ. And therefore saith Saint Paul, “Clothe you, as they that +be chosen of God in heart, of misericorde [with compassion], +debonairte [gentleness], sufferance [patience], and such manner +of clothing,” of which Jesus Christ is more apaid [better +pleased] than of hairs or of hauberks. Then is discipline eke in +knocking of thy breast, in scourging with yards [rods], in +kneelings, in tribulations, in suffering patiently wrongs that be +done to him, and eke in patient sufferance of maladies, or losing +of worldly catel [chattels], or of wife, or of child, or of other +friends. +</p> + +<p> +Then shalt thou understand which things disturb penance, and +this is in four things; that is dread, shame, hope, and wanhope, +that is, desperation. And for to speak first of dread, for which +he weeneth that he may suffer no penance, thereagainst is +remedy for to think that bodily penance is but short and little at +the regard of [in comparison with] the pain of hell, that is so +cruel and so long, that it lasteth without end. Now against the +shame that a man hath to shrive him, and namely [specially] +these hypocrites, that would be holden so perfect, that they +have no need to shrive them; against that shame should a man +think, that by way of reason he that hath not been ashamed to +do foul things, certes he ought not to be ashamed to do fair +things, and that is confession. A man should eke think, that God +seeth and knoweth all thy thoughts, and all thy works; to him +may nothing be hid nor covered. Men should eke remember +them of the shame that is to come at the day of doom, to them +that be not penitent and shriven in this present life; for all the +creatures in heaven, and in earth, and in hell, shall see apertly +[openly] all that he hideth in this world. +</p> + +<p> +Now for to speak of them that be so negligent and slow to +shrive them; that stands in two manners. The one is, that he +hopeth to live long, and to purchase [acquire] much riches for +his delight, and then he will shrive him: and, as he sayeth, he +may, as him seemeth, timely enough come to shrift: another is, +the surquedrie [presumption <12>] that he hath in Christ’s +mercy. Against the first vice, he shall think that our life is in no +sickerness, [security] and eke that all the riches in this world be +in adventure, and pass as a shadow on the wall; and, as saith St +Gregory, that it appertaineth to the great righteousness of God, +that never shall the pain stint [cease] of them, that never would +withdraw them from sin, their thanks [with their goodwill], but +aye continue in sin; for that perpetual will to do sin shall they +have perpetual pain. Wanhope [despair] is in two manners [of +two kinds]. The first wanhope is, in the mercy of God: the other +is, that they think they might not long persevere in goodness. +The first wanhope cometh of that he deemeth that he sinned so +highly and so oft, and so long hath lain in sin, that he shall not +be saved. Certes against that cursed wanhope should he think, +that the passion of Jesus Christ is more strong for to unbind, +than sin is strong for to bind. Against the second wanhope he +shall think, that as oft as he falleth, he may arise again by +penitence; and though he never so long hath lain in sin, the +mercy of Christ is always ready to receive him to mercy. +Against the wanhope that he thinketh he should not long +persevere in goodness, he shall think that the feebleness of the +devil may nothing do, but [unless] men will suffer him; and eke +he shall have strength of the help of God, and of all Holy +Church, and of the protection of angels, if him list. +</p> + +<p> +Then shall men understand, what is the fruit of penance; and +after the word of Jesus Christ, it is the endless bliss of heaven, +where joy hath no contrariety of woe nor of penance nor +grievance; there all harms be passed of this present life; there as +is the sickerness [security] from the pain of hell; there as is the +blissful company, that rejoice them evermore each of the other’s +joy; there as the body of man, that whilom was foul and dark, is +more clear than the sun; there as the body of man that whilom +was sick and frail, feeble and mortal, is immortal, and so strong +and so whole, that there may nothing apair [impair, injure] it; +there is neither hunger, nor thirst, nor cold, but every soul +replenished with the sight of the perfect knowing of God. This +blissful regne [kingdom] may men purchase by poverty spiritual, +and the glory by lowliness, the plenty of joy by hunger and +thirst, the rest by travail, and the life by death and mortification +of sin; to which life He us bring, that bought us with his +precious blood! Amen. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Parson’s Tale +</p> + +<p> +1. The Parson’s Tale is believed to be a translation, more or less +free, from some treatise on penitence that was in favour about +Chaucer’s time. Tyrwhitt says: “I cannot recommend it as a very +entertaining or edifying performance at this day; but the reader +will please to remember, in excuse both of Chaucer and of his +editor, that, considering The Canterbury Tales as a great picture +of life and manners, the piece would not have been complete if +it had not included the religion of the time.” The Editor of the +present volume has followed the same plan adopted with regard +to Chaucer’s Tale of Melibœus, and mainly for the same +reasons. (See note 1 to that Tale). An outline of the Parson’s +ponderous sermon — for such it is — has been drawn; while +those passages have been given in full which more directly +illustrate the social and the religious life of the time — such as +the picture of hell, the vehement and rather coarse, but, in an +antiquarian sense, most curious and valuable attack on the +fashionable garb of the day, the catalogue of venial sins, the +description of gluttony and its remedy, &c. The brief third or +concluding part, which contains the application of the whole, +and the “Retractation” or “Prayer” that closes the Tale and the +entire “magnum opus” of Chaucer, have been given in full. +</p> + +<p> +2. Jeremiah vi. 16. +</p> + +<p> +3. See Note 3 to the Sompnour’s Tale. +</p> + +<p> +4. Just before, the Parson had cited the words of Job to God +(Job x. 20-22), “Suffer, Lord, that I may a while bewail and +weep, ere I go without returning to the dark land, covered with +the darkness of death; to the land of misease and of darkness, +where as is the shadow of death; where as is no order nor +ordinance, but grisly dread that ever shall last.” +</p> + +<p> +5. “I have lost everything - my time and my work.” +</p> + +<p> +6. Accidie: neglectfulness or indifference; from the Greek, +akedeia. +</p> + +<p> +7. The pax: an image which was presented to the people to be +kissed, at that part of the mass where the priest said, “Pax +Domini sit semper vobiscum.” (“May the peace of the Lord be +always with you”) The ceremony took the place, for greater +convenience, of the “kiss of peace,” which clergy and people, at +this passage, used to bestow upon each other. +</p> + +<p> +8. Three ways of ornamenting clothes with lace, &c.; in barring +it was laid on crossways, in ounding it was waved, in paling it +was laid on lengthways. +</p> + +<p> +9. Penitencer: a priest who enjoined penance in extraordinary +cases. +</p> + +<p> +10. To be houseled: to receive the holy sacrament; from Anglo- +Saxon, “husel;” Latin, “hostia,” or “hostiola,” the host. +</p> + +<p> +11. It was a frequent penance among the chivalric orders to +wear mail shirts next the skin. +</p> + +<p> +12. Surquedrie: presumption; from old French, “surcuider,” to +think arrogantly, be full of conceit. +</p> + +<h2><a name="chap29"></a>*PRECES DE CHAUCERES* <1> *Prayer of Chaucer*</h2> + +<p> +Now pray I to you all that hear this little treatise or read it, that +if there be anything in it that likes them, that thereof they thank +our Lord Jesus Christ, of whom proceedeth all wit and all +goodness; and if there be anything that displeaseth them, I pray +them also that they arette [impute] it to the default of mine +unconning [unskilfulness], and not to my will, that would fain +have said better if I had had conning; for the book saith, all that +is written for our doctrine is written. Wherefore I beseech you +meekly for the mercy of God that ye pray for me, that God have +mercy on me and forgive me my guilts, and namely [specially] +my translations and of inditing in worldly vanities, which I +revoke in my Retractions, as is the Book of Troilus, the Book +also of Fame, the Book of Twenty-five Ladies, the Book of the +Duchess, the Book of Saint Valentine’s Day and of the +Parliament of Birds, the Tales of Canter bury, all those that +sounen unto sin, [are sinful, tend towards sin] the Book of the +Lion, and many other books, if they were in my mind or +remembrance, and many a song and many a lecherous lay, of the +which Christ for his great mercy forgive me the sins. But of the +translation of Boece de Consolatione, and other books of +consolation and of legend of lives of saints, and homilies, and +moralities, and devotion, that thank I our Lord Jesus Christ, and +his mother, and all the saints in heaven, beseeching them that +they from henceforth unto my life’s end send me grace to bewail +my guilts, and to study to the salvation of my soul, and grant +me grace and space of very repentance, penitence, confession, +and satisfaction, to do in this present life, through the benign +grace of Him that is King of kings and Priest of all priests, that +bought us with his precious blood of his heart, so that I may be +one of them at the day of doom that shall be saved: Qui cum +Patre et Spiritu Sancto vivis et regnas Deus per omnia secula. +Amen. <2> +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Prayer of Chaucer +</p> + +<p> +1. The genuineness and real significance of this “Prayer of +Chaucer,” usually called his “Retractation,” have been warmly +disputed. On the one hand, it has been declared that the monks +forged the retractation. and procured its insertion among the +works of the man who had done so much to expose their abuses +and ignorance, and to weaken their hold on popular credulity: +on the other hand, Chaucer himself at the close of his life, is +said to have greatly lamented the ribaldry and the attacks on the +clergy which marked especially “The Canterbury Tales,” and to +have drawn up a formal retractation of which the “Prayer” is +either a copy or an abridgment. The beginning and end of the +“Prayer,” as Tyrwhitt points out, are in tone and terms quite +appropriate in the mouth of the Parson, while they carry on the +subject of which he has been treating; and, despite the fact that +Mr Wright holds the contrary opinion, Tyrwhitt seems to be +justified in setting down the “Retractation” as interpolated into +the close of the Parson’s Tale. Of the circumstances under +which the interpolation was made, or the causes by which it was +dictated, little or nothing can now be confidently affirmed; but +the agreement of the manuscripts and the early editions in +giving it, render it impossible to discard it peremptorily as a +declaration of prudish or of interested regret, with which +Chaucer himself had nothing whatever to do. +</p> + +<p> +2. “[You] Who with the Father and the Holy Spirit livest and +reignest God for ever and ever. Amen.” +</p> + +<h4>THE END OF THE CANTERBURY TALES</h4> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap30"></a>THE COURT OF LOVE.</h2> + +<p> +“The Court Of Love” was probably Chaucer’s first poem of any +consequence. It is believed to have been written at the age, and +under the circumstances, of which it contains express mention; +that is, when the poet was eighteen years old, and resided as a +student at Cambridge, — about the year 1346. The composition +is marked by an elegance, care, and finish very different from +the bold freedom which in so great measure distinguishes the +Canterbury Tales; and the fact is easily explained when we +remember that, in the earlier poem, Chaucer followed a beaten +path, in which he had many predecessors and competitors, all +seeking to sound the praises of love with the grace, the +ingenuity, and studious devotion, appropriate to the theme. The +story of the poem is exceedingly simple. Under the name of +Philogenet, a clerk or scholar of Cambridge, the poet relates +that, summoned by Mercury to the Court of Love, he journeys +to the splendid castle where the King and Queen of Love, +Admetus and Alcestis, keep their state. Discovering among the +courtiers a friend named Philobone, a chamberwoman to the +Queen, Philogenet is led by her into a circular temple, where, in +a tabernacle, sits Venus, with Cupid by her side. While he is +surveying the motley crowd of suitors to the goddess, +Philogenet is summoned back into the King’s presence, chidden +for his tardiness in coming to Court, and commanded to swear +observance to the twenty Statutes of Love — which are recited +at length. Philogenet then makes his prayers and vows to +Venus, desiring that he may have for his love a lady whom he +has seen in a dream; and Philobone introduces him to the lady +herself, named Rosial, to whom he does suit and service of love. +At first the lady is obdurate to his entreaties; but, Philogenet +having proved the sincerity of his passion by a fainting fit, +Rosial relents, promises her favour, and orders Philobone to +conduct him round the Court. The courtiers are then minutely +described; but the description is broken off abruptly, and we are +introduced to Rosial in the midst of a confession of her love. +Finally she commands Philogenet to abide with her until the +First of May, when the King of Love will hold high festival; he +obeys; and the poem closes with the May Day festival service, +celebrated by a choir of birds, who sing an ingenious, but what +must have seemed in those days a more than slightly profane, +paraphrase or parody of the matins for Trinity Sunday, to the +praise of Cupid. From this outline, it will be seen at once that +Chaucer’s “Court of Love” is in important particulars different +from the institutions which, in the two centuries preceding his +own, had so much occupied the attention of poets and gallants, +and so powerfully controlled the social life of the noble and +refined classes. It is a regal, not a legal, Court which the poet +pictures to us; we are not introduced to a regularly constituted +and authoritative tribunal in which nice questions of conduct in +the relations of lovers are discussed and decided — but to the +central and sovereign seat of Love’s authority, where the +statutes are moulded, and the decrees are issued, upon which +the inferior and special tribunals we have mentioned frame their +proceedings. The “Courts of Love,” in Chaucer’s time, had lost +none of the prestige and influence which had been conferred +upon them by the patronage and participation of Kings, Queens, +Emperors, and Popes. But the institution, in its legal or judicial +character, was peculiar to France; and although the whole spirit +of Chaucer’s poem, especially as regards the esteem and +reverence in which women were held, is that which animated +the French Courts, his treatment of the subject is broader and +more general, consequently more fitted to enlist the interest of +English readers. +(Transcriber’s note: Modern scholars believe that Chaucer was +not the author of this poem) +</p> + +<p> +The poem consists of 206 stanzas of seven lines each; of which, +in this edition, eighty-three are represented by a prose +abridgement. +</p> + +<p> +With timorous heart, and trembling hand of dread,<br/> +Of cunning* naked, bare of eloquence, *skill<br/> +Unto the *flow’r of port in womanhead* *one who is the perfection<br/> +I write, as he that none intelligence of womanly behaviour*<br/> +Of metres hath, <1> nor flowers of sentence,<br/> +Save that me list my writing to convey,<br/> +In that I can, to please her high nobley.* *nobleness +</p> + +<p> +The blossoms fresh of Tullius’* garden swoot** *Cicero **sweet<br/> +Present they not, my matter for to born:* <2> *burnish, polish<br/> +Poems of Virgil take here no root,<br/> +Nor craft of Galfrid <3> may not here sojourn;<br/> +Why *n’am I* cunning? O well may I mourn, *am I not*<br/> +For lack of science, that I cannot write<br/> +Unto the princess of my life aright! +</p> + +<p> +No terms are dign* unto her excellence, *worthy<br/> +So is she sprung of noble stirp* and high; *stock <4><br/> +A world of honour and of reverence<br/> +There is in her, this will I testify.<br/> +Calliope, <5> thou sister wise and sly,* *skilful<br/> +And thou, Minerva, guide me with thy grace,<br/> +That language rude my matter not deface! +</p> + +<p> +Thy sugar droppes sweet of Helicon<br/> +Distil in me, thou gentle Muse, I pray;<br/> +And thee, Melpomene, <6> I call anon<br/> +Of ignorance the mist to chase away;<br/> +And give me grace so for to write and say,<br/> +That she, my lady, of her worthiness,<br/> +Accept *in gree* this little short treatess,* *with favour* *treatise +</p> + +<p> +That is entitled thus, The Court of Love.<br/> +And ye that be metricians,* me excuse, *skilled versifiers<br/> +I you beseech, for Venus’ sake above;<br/> +For what I mean in this ye need not muse:<br/> +And if so be my lady it refuse<br/> +For lack of ornate speech, I would be woe<br/> +That I presume to her to write so. +</p> + +<p> +But my intent, and all my busy cure,* *care<br/> +Is for to write this treatise, as I can,<br/> +Unto my lady, stable, true, and sure,<br/> +Faithful and kind, since first that she began<br/> +Me to accept in service as her man;<br/> +To her be all the pleasure of this book,<br/> +That, when *her like,* she may it read and look. *it pleases her* +</p> + +<p> +When [he] was young, at eighteen year of age,<br/> +Lusty and light, desirous of pleasance,<br/> +Approaching* full sad and ripe corage,<7> *gradually attaining +</p> + +<p> +Then — says the poet — did Love urge him to do +him obeisance, and to go “the Court of Love to +see, a lite [little] beside the Mount of Citharee.” +<8> Mercury bade him, on pain of death, to +appear; and he went by strange and far countries +in search of the Court. Seeing at last a crowd of +people, “as bees,” making their way thither, the +poet asked whither they went; and “one that +answer’d like a maid” said that they were bound to +the Court of Love, at Citheron, where “the King +of Love, and all his noble rout [company], +</p> + +<p> +“Dwelleth within a castle royally.”<br/> +So them apace I journey’d forth among,<br/> +And as he said, so found I there truly;<br/> +For I beheld the town — so high and strong,<br/> +And high pinnacles, large of height and long,<br/> +With plate of gold bespread on ev’ry side,<br/> +And precious stones, the stone work for to hide. +</p> + +<p> +No sapphire of Ind, no ruby rich of price,<br/> +There lacked then, nor emerald so green,<br/> +Balais, Turkeis, <9> nor thing, *to my devise,* *in my judgement*<br/> +That may the castle make for to sheen;* *be beautiful<br/> +All was as bright as stars in winter be’n;<br/> +And Phoebus shone, to make his peace again,<br/> +For trespass* done to high estates twain, — *offence +</p> + +<p> +When he had found Venus in the arms of Mars, and hastened to +tell Vulcan of his wife’s infidelity <10>. Now he was shining +brightly on the castle, “in sign he looked after Love’s grace;” for +there is no god in Heaven or in Hell “but he hath been right +subject unto Love.” Continuing his description of the castle, +Philogenet says that he saw never any so large and high; within +and without, it was painted “with many a thousand daisies, red +as rose,” and white also, in signification of whom, he knew not; +unless it was the flower of Alcestis <11>, who, under Venus, +was queen of the place, as Admetus was king; +</p> + +<p> +To whom obey’d the ladies good nineteen <12>,<br/> +With many a thousand other, bright of face.<br/> +And young men fele* came forth with lusty pace, *many <13><br/> +And aged eke, their homage to dispose;<br/> +But what they were, I could not well disclose. +</p> + +<p> +Yet nere* and nere* forth in I gan me dress, *nearer<br/> +Into a hall of noble apparail,* *furnishings<br/> +With arras <14> spread, and cloth of gold, I guess,<br/> +And other silk *of easier avail;* *less difficult, costly, to attain*<br/> +Under the *cloth of their estate,* sans fail, *state canopy*<br/> +The King and Queen there sat, as I beheld;<br/> +It passed joy of *Elysee the feld.* *The Elysian Fields* +</p> + +<p> +There saintes* have their coming and resort, *martyrs for love<br/> +To see the King so royally beseen,* *adorned<br/> +In purple clad, and eke the Queen *in sort;* *suitably*<br/> +And on their heades saw I crownes twain,<br/> +With stones frett,* so that it was no pain, *adorned<br/> +Withoute meat or drink, to stand and see<br/> +The Kinge’s honour and the royalty. +</p> + +<p> +To treat of state affairs, Danger <15> stood by the +King, and Disdain by the Queen; who cast her eyes +haughtily about, sending forth beams that seemed +“shapen like a dart, sharp and piercing, and small and +straight of line;” while her hair shone as gold so fine, +“dishevel, crisp, down hanging at her back a yard in +length.” <16> Amazed and dazzled by her beauty, +Philogenet stood perplexed, till he spied a Maid, +Philobone — a chamberwoman of the Queen’s — who +asked how and on what errand he came thither. +Learning that he had been summoned by Mercury, she +told him that he ought to have come of his free will, +and that he “will be shent [rebuked, disgraced]” +because he did not. +</p> + +<p> +“For ye that reign in youth and lustiness,<br/> +Pamper’d with ease, and jealous in your age,<br/> +Your duty is, as far as I can guess,<br/> +To Love’s Court to dresse* your voyage, *direct, address<br/> +As soon as Nature maketh you so sage<br/> +That ye may know a woman from a swan, <17><br/> +Or when your foot is growen half a span. +</p> + +<p> +“But since that ye, by wilful negligence,<br/> +This eighteen year have kept yourself at large,<br/> +The greater is your trespass and offence,<br/> +And in your neck you must bear all the charge:<br/> +For better were ye be withoute barge* *boat<br/> +Amid the sea in tempest and in rain,<br/> +Than bide here, receiving woe and pain +</p> + +<p> +“That ordained is for such as them absent<br/> +From Love’s Court by yeares long and fele.* many<br/> +I lay* my life ye shall full soon repent; *wager<br/> +For Love will rive your colour, lust, and heal:* *health<br/> +Eke ye must bait* on many a heavy meal: *feed<br/> +*No force,* y-wis; I stirr’d you long agone *no matter*<br/> +To draw to Court,” quoth little Philobone. +</p> + +<p> +“Ye shall well see how rough and angry face<br/> +The King of Love will show, when ye him see;<br/> +By mine advice kneel down and ask him grace,<br/> +Eschewing* peril and adversity; *avoiding<br/> +For well I wot it will none other be;<br/> +Comfort is none, nor counsel to your ease;<br/> +Why will ye then the King of Love displease?” +</p> + +<p> +Thereupon Philogenet professed humble repentance, +and willingness to bear all hardship and chastisement +for his past offence. +</p> + +<p> +These wordes said, she caught me by the lap,* *edge of the garment<br/> +And led me forth into a temple round,<br/> +Both large and wide; and, as my blessed hap<br/> +And good. adventure was, right soon I found<br/> +A tabernacle <18> raised from the ground,<br/> +Where Venus sat, and Cupid by her side;<br/> +Yet half for dread I gan my visage hide. +</p> + +<p> +And eft* again I looked and beheld, *afterwards<br/> +Seeing *full sundry people* in the place, *people of many sorts*<br/> +And *mister folk,* and some that might not weld *craftsmen <19>*<br/> +Their limbes well, — me thought a wonder case. *use<br/> +The temple shone with windows all of glass,<br/> +Bright as the day, with many a fair image;<br/> +And there I saw the fresh queen of Carthage, +</p> + +<p> +Dido, that brent* her beauty for the love *burnt<br/> +Of false Aeneas; and the waimenting* *lamenting<br/> +Of her, Annelide, true as turtle dove<br/> +To Arcite false; <20> and there was in painting<br/> +Of many a Prince, and many a doughty King,<br/> +Whose martyrdom was show’d about the walls;<br/> +And how that fele* for love had suffer’d falls.** *many **calamities +</p> + +<p> +Philogenet was astonished at the crowd of people that +he saw, doing sacrifice to the god and goddess. +Philobone informed him that they came from other +courts; those who knelt in blue wore the colour in +sign of their changeless truth <21>; those in black, +who uttered cries of grief, were the sick and dying of +love. The priests, nuns, hermits, and friars, and all that +sat in white, in russet and in green, “wailed of their +woe;” and for all people, of every degree, the Court +was open and free. While he walked about with +Philobone, a messenger from the King entered, and +summoned all the new-come folk to the royal +presence. Trembling and pale, Philogenet approached +the throne of Admetus, and was sternly asked why he +came so late to Court. He pleaded that a hundred +times he had been at the gate, but had been prevented +from entering by failure to see any of his +acquaintances, and by shamefacedness. The King +pardoned him, on condition that thenceforth he should +serve Love; and the poet took oath to do so, “though +Death therefor me thirle [pierce] with his spear.” +When the King had seen all the new-comers, he +commanded an officer to take their oaths of +allegiance, and show them the Statutes of the Court, +which must be observed till death. +</p> + +<p> +And, for that I was letter’d, there I read<br/> +The statutes whole of Love’s Court and hail:<br/> +The first statute that on the book was spread,<br/> +Was, To be true in thought and deedes all<br/> +Unto the King of Love, the lord royal;<br/> +And, to the Queen, as faithful and as kind<br/> +As I could think with hearte, will, and mind. +</p> + +<p> +The second statute, Secretly to keep<br/> +Counsel* of love, not blowing** ev’rywhere *secrets **talking<br/> +All that I know, and let it sink and fleet;* *float<br/> +It may not sound in ev’ry wighte’s ear:<br/> +Exiling slander ay for dread and fear,<br/> +And to my lady, which I love and serve,<br/> +Be true and kind, her grace for to deserve. +</p> + +<p> +The third statute was clearly writ also,<br/> +Withoute change to live and die the same,<br/> +None other love to take, for weal nor woe,<br/> +For blind delight, for earnest nor for game:<br/> +Without repent, for laughing or for grame,* *vexation, sorrow<br/> +To bide still in full perseverance:<br/> +All this was whole the Kinge’s ordinance. +</p> + +<p> +The fourth statute, To *purchase ever to her,* *promote her cause*<br/> +And stirre folk to love, and bete* fire *kindle<br/> +On Venus’ altar, here about and there,<br/> +And preach to them of love and hot desire,<br/> +And tell how love will quite* well their hire: *reward<br/> +This must be kept; and loth me to displease:<br/> +If love be wroth, pass; for thereby is ease. +</p> + +<p> +The fifth statute, Not to be dangerous,* *fastidious, angry<br/> +If that a thought would reave* me of my sleep: *deprive<br/> +Nor of a sight to be over squaimous;* *desirous<br/> +And so verily this statute was to keep,<br/> +To turn and wallow in my bed and weep,<br/> +When that my lady, of her cruelty,<br/> +Would from her heart exilen all pity. +</p> + +<p> +The sixth statute, It was for me to use<br/> +Alone to wander, void of company,<br/> +And on my lady’s beauty for to muse,<br/> +And thinken it *no force* to live or die; *matter of indifference*<br/> +And eft again to think* the remedy, *think upon<br/> +How to her grace I might anon attain,<br/> +And tell my woe unto my sovereign. +</p> + +<p> +The sev’nth statute was, To be patient,<br/> +Whether my lady joyful were or wroth;<br/> +For wordes glad or heavy, diligent,<br/> +Whether that she me helde *lefe or loth:* *in love or loathing*<br/> +And hereupon I put was to mine oath,<br/> +Her for to serve, and lowly to obey,<br/> +And show my cheer,* yea, twenty times a day. *countenance +</p> + +<p> +The eighth statute, to my rememberance,<br/> +Was, For to speak and pray my lady dear,<br/> +With hourly labour and great entendance,* *attention<br/> +Me for to love with all her heart entere,* *entire<br/> +And me desire and make me joyful cheer,<br/> +Right as she is, surmounting every fair;<br/> +Of beauty well,* and gentle debonair. *the fountain +</p> + +<p> +The ninth statute, with letters writ of gold,<br/> +This was the sentence, How that I and all<br/> +Should ever dread to be too overbold<br/> +Her to displease; and truly so I shall;<br/> +But be content for all thing that may fall,<br/> +And meekly take her chastisement and yerd,* *rod, rule<br/> +And to offend her ever be afear’d. +</p> + +<p> +The tenth statute was, Equally* to discern *justly<br/> +Between the lady and thine ability,<br/> +And think thyself art never like to earn,<br/> +By right, her mercy nor her equity,<br/> +But of her grace and womanly pity:<br/> +For, though thyself be noble in thy strene,* *strain, descent<br/> +A thousand fold more noble is thy Queen. +</p> + +<p> +Thy life’s lady and thy sovereign,<br/> +That hath thine heart all whole in governance,<br/> +Thou may’st no wise it take to disdain,<br/> +To put thee humbly at her ordinance,<br/> +And give her free the rein of her pleasance;<br/> +For liberty is thing that women look,* *look for, desire<br/> +And truly else *the matter is a crook.* *things go wrong* +</p> + +<p> +Th’ eleventh statute, Thy signes for to know<br/> +With eye and finger, and with smiles soft,<br/> +And low to couch, and alway for to show,<br/> +For dread of spies, for to winken oft:<br/> +And secretly to bring a sigh aloft,<br/> +But still beware of over much resort;<br/> +For that peradventure spoileth all thy sport. +</p> + +<p> +The twelfth statute remember to observe:<br/> +For all the pain thou hast for love and woe,<br/> +All is too lite* her mercy to deserve, *little<br/> +Thou muste think, where’er thou ride or go;<br/> +And mortal woundes suffer thou also,<br/> +All for her sake, and think it well beset* *spent<br/> +Upon thy love, for it may not be bet.* *better (spent) +</p> + +<p> +The thirteenth statute, Whilom is to think<br/> +What thing may best thy lady like and please,<br/> +And in thine hearte’s bottom let it sink:<br/> +Some thing devise, and take for it thine ease,<br/> +And send it her, that may her heart appease:<br/> +Some heart, or ring, or letter, or device,<br/> +Or precious stone; but spare not for no price. +</p> + +<p> +The fourteenth statute eke thou shalt assay<br/> +Firmly to keep, the most part of thy life:<br/> +Wish that thy lady in thine armes lay,<br/> +And nightly dream, thou hast thy nighte’s wife<br/> +Sweetly in armes, straining her as blife:* *eagerly <22><br/> +And, when thou seest it is but fantasy,<br/> +See that thou sing not over merrily; +</p> + +<p> +For too much joy hath oft a woeful end.<br/> +It *longeth eke this statute for to hold,* *it belongs to the proper<br/> +To deem thy lady evermore thy friend, observance of this statute*<br/> +And think thyself in no wise a cuckold.<br/> +In ev’ry thing she doth but as she sho’ld:<br/> +Construe the best, believe no tales new,<br/> +For many a lie is told, that seems full true. +</p> + +<p> +But think that she, so bounteous and fair,<br/> +Could not be false: imagine this algate;* *at all events<br/> +And think that wicked tongues would her apair,* *defame<br/> +Sland’ring her name and *worshipful estate,* *honourable fame*<br/> +And lovers true to setten at debate:<br/> +And though thou seest a fault right at thine eye,<br/> +Excuse it blife, and glose* it prettily. *gloss it over +</p> + +<p> +The fifteenth statute, Use to swear and stare,<br/> +And counterfeit a leasing* hardily,** *falsehood **boldly<br/> +To save thy lady’s honour ev’rywhere,<br/> +And put thyself for her to fight boldly;<br/> +Say she is good, virtuous, and ghostly,* *spiritual, pure<br/> +Clear of intent, and heart, and thought, and will;<br/> +And argue not for reason nor for skill +</p> + +<p> +Against thy lady’s pleasure nor intent,<br/> +For love will not be counterpled* indeed: *met with counterpleas<br/> +Say as she saith, then shalt thou not be shent;* *disgraced<br/> +“The crow is white;” “Yea truly, so I rede:”* *judge<br/> +And aye what thing that she will thee forbid,<br/> +Eschew all that, and give her sov’reignty,<br/> +Her appetite to follow in all degree. +</p> + +<p> +The sixteenth statute, keep it if thou may: <23><br/> +Sev’n times at night thy lady for to please,<br/> +And sev’n at midnight, sev’n at morrow day,<br/> +And drink a caudle early for thine ease.<br/> +Do this, and keep thine head from all disease,<br/> +And win the garland here of lovers all,<br/> +That ever came in Court, or ever shall. +</p> + +<p> +Full few, think I, this statute hold and keep;<br/> +But truly this my reason *gives me feel,* *enables me to perceive*<br/> +That some lovers should rather fall asleep,<br/> +Than take on hand to please so oft and weel.* *well<br/> +There lay none oath to this statute adele,* *annexed<br/> +But keep who might *as gave him his corage:* *as his heart<br/> +Now get this garland, folk of lusty age! inspired him* +</p> + +<p> +Now win who may, ye lusty folk of youth,<br/> +This garland fresh, of flowers red and white,<br/> +Purple and blue, and colours full uncouth,* *strange<br/> +And I shall crown him king of all delight!<br/> +In all the Court there was not, to my sight,<br/> +A lover true, that he was not adread,<br/> +When he express* had heard the statute read. *plainly +</p> + +<p> +The sev’nteenth statute, When age approacheth on,<br/> +And lust is laid, and all the fire is queint,* *quenched<br/> +As freshly then thou shalt begin to fon,* *behave fondly<br/> +And doat in love, and all her image paint<br/> +In thy remembrance, till thou gin to faint,<br/> +As in the first season thine heart began:<br/> +And her desire, though thou nor may nor can +</p> + +<p> +Perform thy living actual and lust;<br/> +Register this in thine rememberance:<br/> +Eke when thou may’st not keep thy thing from rust,<br/> +Yet speak and talk of pleasant dalliance;<br/> +For that shall make thine heart rejoice and dance;<br/> +And when thou may’st no more the game assay,<br/> +The statute bids thee pray for them that may. +</p> + +<p> +The eighteenth statute, wholly to commend,<br/> +To please thy lady, is, That thou eschew<br/> +With sluttishness thyself for to offend;<br/> +Be jolly, fresh, and feat,* with thinges new, *dainty <24><br/> +Courtly with manner, this is all thy due,<br/> +Gentle of port, and loving cleanliness;<br/> +This is the thing that liketh thy mistress. +</p> + +<p> +And not to wander like a dulled ass,<br/> +Ragged and torn, disguised in array,<br/> +Ribald in speech, or out of measure pass,<br/> +Thy bound exceeding; think on this alway:<br/> +For women be of tender heartes ay,<br/> +And lightly set their pleasure in a place;<br/> +When they misthink,* they lightly let it pace. *think wrongly +</p> + +<p> +The nineteenth statute, Meat and drink forget:<br/> +Each other day see that thou fast for love,<br/> +For in the Court they live withoute meat,<br/> +Save such as comes from Venus all above;<br/> +They take no heed, *in pain of great reprove,* *on pain of great<br/> +Of meat and drink, for that is all in vain, reproach*<br/> +Only they live by sight of their sov’reign. +</p> + +<p> +The twentieth statute, last of ev’ry one,<br/> +Enrol it in thy hearte’s privity;<br/> +To wring and wail, to turn, and sigh, and groan,<br/> +When that thy lady absent is from thee;<br/> +And eke renew the wordes all that she<br/> +Between you twain hath said, and all the cheer<br/> +That thee hath made thy life’s lady dear. +</p> + +<p> +And see thy heart in quiet nor in rest<br/> +Sojourn, till time thou see thy lady eft,* *again<br/> +But whe’er* she won** by south, or east, or west, *whether **dwell<br/> +With all thy force now see it be not left<br/> +Be diligent, *till time* thy life be reft, *until the time that*<br/> +In that thou may’st, thy lady for to see;<br/> +This statute was of old antiquity. +</p> + +<p> +The officer, called Rigour — who is incorruptible by +partiality, favour, prayer, or gold — made them swear +to keep the statutes; and, after taking the oath, +Philogenet turned over other leaves of the book, +containing the statutes of women. But Rigour sternly +bade him forbear; for no man might know the statutes +that belong to women. +</p> + +<p> +“In secret wise they kepte be full close;<br/> +They sound* each one to liberty, my friend; *tend, accord<br/> +Pleasant they be, and to their own purpose;<br/> +There wot* no wight of them, but God and fiend, *knows<br/> +Nor aught shall wit, unto the worlde’s end.<br/> +The queen hath giv’n me charge, in pain to die,<br/> +Never to read nor see them with mine eye. +</p> + +<p> +“For men shall not so near of counsel be’n<br/> +With womanhead, nor knowen of their guise,<br/> +Nor what they think, nor of their wit th’engine;* *craft<br/> +*I me report to* Solomon the wise, <25> *I refer for proof to*<br/> +And mighty Samson, which beguiled thrice<br/> +With Delilah was; he wot that, in a throw,<br/> +There may no man statute of women know. +</p> + +<p> +“For it peradventure may right so befall,<br/> +That they be bound by nature to deceive,<br/> +And spin, and weep, and sugar strew on gall, <26><br/> +The heart of man to ravish and to reave,<br/> +And whet their tongue as sharp as sword or gleve:* *glaive, sword<br/> +It may betide this is their ordinance,<br/> +So must they lowly do their observance, +</p> + +<p> +“And keep the statute given them *of kind,* *by nature*<br/> +Of such as Love hath giv’n them in their life.<br/> +Men may not wit why turneth every wind,<br/> +Nor waxe wise, nor be inquisitife<br/> +To know secret of maid, widow, or wife;<br/> +For they their statutes have to them reserved,<br/> +And never man to know them hath deserved.” +</p> + +<p> +Rigour then sent them forth to pay court to Venus, +and pray her to teach them how they might serve and +please their dames, or to provide with ladies those +whose hearts were yet vacant. Before Venus knelt a +thousand sad petitioners, entreating her to punish “the +false untrue,” that had broken their vows, “barren of +ruth, untrue of what they said, now that their lust and +pleasure is allay’d.” But the mourners were in a +minority; +</p> + +<p> +Yet eft again, a thousand million,<br/> +Rejoicing, love, leading their life in bliss:<br/> +They said: “Venus, redress* of all division, *healer<br/> +Goddess eternal, thy name heried* is! *glorified<br/> +By love’s bond is knit all thing, y-wis,* *assuredly<br/> +Beast unto beast, the earth to water wan,* *pale<br/> +Bird unto bird, and woman unto man; <27> +</p> + +<p> +“This is the life of joy that we be in,<br/> +Resembling life of heav’nly paradise;<br/> +Love is exiler ay of vice and sin;<br/> +Love maketh heartes lusty to devise;<br/> +Honour and grace have they in ev’ry wise,<br/> +That be to love’s law obedient;<br/> +Love maketh folk benign and diligent; +</p> + +<p> +“Aye stirring them to dreade vice and shame:<br/> +In their degree it makes them honourable;<br/> +And sweet it is of love to bear the name,<br/> +So that his love be faithful, true, and stable:<br/> +Love pruneth him to seemen amiable;<br/> +Love hath no fault where it is exercis’d,<br/> +But sole* with them that have all love despis’d:” *only +</p> + +<p> +And they conclude with grateful honours to the goddess +— rejoicing hat they are hers in heart, and all inflamed +with her grace and heavenly fear. Philogenet now +entreats the goddess to remove his grief; for he also +loves, and hotly, only he does not know where — +</p> + +<p> +“Save only this, by God and by my troth;<br/> +Troubled I was with slumber, sleep, and sloth<br/> +This other night, and in a vision<br/> +I saw a woman roamen up and down, +</p> + +<p> +“Of *mean stature,* and seemly to behold, *middling height*<br/> +Lusty and fresh, demure of countenance,<br/> +Young and well shap’d, with haire sheen* as gold, *shining<br/> +With eyne as crystal, farced* with pleasance; *crammed<br/> +And she gan stir mine heart a lite* to dance; *little<br/> +But suddenly she vanish gan right there:<br/> +Thus I may say, I love, and wot* not where.” *know +</p> + +<p> +If he could only know this lady, he would serve and obey her +with all benignity; but if his destiny were otherwise, he would +gladly love and serve his lady, whosoever she might be. He +called on Venus for help to possess his queen and heart’s life, +and vowed daily war with Diana: “that goddess chaste I keepen +[care] in no wise to serve; a fig for all her chastity!” Then he +rose and went his way, passing by a rich and beautiful shrine, +which, Philobone informed him, was the sepulchre of Pity. “A +tender creature,” she said, +</p> + +<p> +“Is shrined there, and Pity is her name.<br/> +She saw an eagle wreak* him on a fly, *avenge<br/> +And pluck his wing, and eke him, *in his game;* *for sport*<br/> +And tender heart of that hath made her die:<br/> +Eke she would weep, and mourn right piteously,<br/> +To see a lover suffer great distress.<br/> +In all the Court was none, as I do guess, +</p> + +<p> +“That could a lover half so well avail,* *help<br/> +Nor of his woe the torment or the rage<br/> +Aslake;* for he was sure, withoute fail, *assuage<br/> +That of his grief she could the heat assuage.<br/> +Instead of Pity, speedeth hot Courage<br/> +The matters all of Court, now she is dead;<br/> +*I me report in this to womanhead.* *for evidence I refer to the<br/> + behaviour of women themselves.* +</p> + +<p> +“For wail, and weep, and cry, and speak, and pray, —<br/> +Women would not have pity on thy plaint;<br/> +Nor by that means to ease thine heart convey,<br/> +But thee receive for their own talent:* *inclination<br/> +And say that Pity caus’d thee, in consent<br/> +Of ruth,* to take thy service and thy pain, *compassion<br/> +In that thou may’st, to please thy sovereign.” +</p> + +<p> +Philobone now promised to lead Philogenet to “the fairest lady +under sun that is,” the “mirror of joy and bliss,” whose name is +Rosial, and “whose heart as yet is given to no wight;” +suggesting that, as he also was “with love but light advanc’d,” +he might set this lady in the place of her of whom he had +dreamed. Entering a chamber gay, “there was Rosial, womanly +to see;” and the subtle-piercing beams of her eyes wounded +Philogenet to the heart. When he could speak, he threw himself +on his knees, beseeching her to cool his fervent woe: +</p> + +<p> +For there I took full purpose in my mind,<br/> +Unto her grace my painful heart to bind. +</p> + +<p> +For, if I shall all fully her descrive,* *describe<br/> +Her head was round, by compass of nature;<br/> +Her hair as gold, she passed all alive,<br/> +And lily forehead had this creature,<br/> +With lively *browes flaw,* of colour pure, *yellow eyebrows <28><br/> +Between the which was mean disseverance<br/> +From ev’ry brow, to show a due distance. +</p> + +<p> +Her nose directed straight, even as line,<br/> +With form and shape thereto convenient,<br/> +In which the *goddes’ milk-white path* doth shine; *the galaxy*<br/> +And eke her eyne be bright and orient<br/> +As is the smaragd,* unto my judgment, *emerald<br/> +Or yet these starres heav’nly, small, and bright;<br/> +Her visage is of lovely red and white. +</p> + +<p> +Her mouth is short, and shut in little space,<br/> +Flaming somedeal,* not over red I mean, *somewhat<br/> +With pregnant lips, and thick to kiss, percase* *as it chanced<br/> +(For lippes thin, not fat, but ever lean,<br/> +They serve of naught, they be not worth a bean;<br/> +For if the bass* be full, there is delight; *kiss <29><br/> +Maximian <30> truly thus doth he write). +</p> + +<p> +But to my purpose: I say, white as snow<br/> +Be all her teeth, and in order they stand<br/> +Of one stature; and eke her breath, I trow,<br/> +Surmounteth all odours that e’er I fand* *found<br/> +In sweetness; and her body, face, and hand<br/> +Be sharply slender, so that, from the head<br/> +Unto the foot, all is but womanhead.* *womanly perfection +</p> + +<p> +I hold my peace of other thinges hid:<br/> +Here shall my soul, and not my tongue, bewray;<br/> +But how she was array’d, if ye me bid,<br/> +That shall I well discover you and say:<br/> +A bend* of gold and silk, full fresh and gay, *band<br/> +With hair *in tress, y-broidered* full well, *plaited in tresses*<br/> +Right smoothly kempt,* and shining every deal. *combed +</p> + +<p> +About her neck a flow’r of fresh device<br/> +With rubies set, that lusty were to see’n;<br/> +And she in gown was, light and summer-wise,<br/> +Shapen full well, the colour was of green,<br/> +With *aureate seint* about her sides clean, *golden cincture*<br/> +With divers stones, precious and rich:<br/> +Thus was she ray’d,* yet saw I ne’er her lich,** *arrayed **like +</p> + +<p> +If Jove had but seen this lady, Calisto and Alcmena had never +lain in his arms, nor had he loved the fair Europa, nor Danae, +nor Antiope; “for all their beauty stood in Rosial; she seemed +like a thing celestial.” By and by, Philogenet presented to her his +petition for love, which she heard with some haughtiness; she +was not, she said, well acquainted with him, she did not know +where he dwelt, nor his name and condition. He informed her +that “in art of love he writes,” and makes songs that may be +sung in honour of the King and Queen of Love. As for his name +— +</p> + +<p> +“My name? alas, my heart, why mak’st thou strange?* *why so cold<br/> +Philogenet I call’d am far and near, or distant?*<br/> +Of Cambridge clerk, that never think to change<br/> +From you, that with your heav’nly streames* clear *beams, glances<br/> +Ravish my heart; and ghost, and all in fere:* *all together<br/> +Since at the first I writ my bill* for grace, *petition<br/> +Me thinks I see some mercy in your face;” +</p> + +<p> +And again he humbly pressed his suit. But the lady disdained the +idea that, “for a word of sugar’d eloquence,” she should have +compassion in so little space; “there come but few who speede +here so soon.” If, as he says, the beams of her eyes pierce and +fret him, then let him withdraw from her presence: +</p> + +<p> +“Hurt not yourself, through folly, with a look;<br/> +I would be sorry so to make you sick!<br/> +A woman should beware eke whom she took:<br/> +Ye be a clerk: go searche well my book,<br/> +If any women be so light* to win: *easy<br/> +Nay, bide a while, though ye were *all my kin.”* *my only kindred* +</p> + +<p> +He might sue and serve, and wax pale, and green, and dead, +without murmuring in any wise; but whereas he desired her +hastily to lean to love, he was unwise, and must cease that +language. For some had been at Court for twenty years, and +might not obtain their mistresses’ favour; therefore she +marvelled that he was so bold as to treat of love with her. +Philogenet, on this, broke into pitiful lamentation; bewailing the +hour in which he was born, and assuring the unyielding lady that +the frosty grave and cold must be his bed, unless she relented. +</p> + +<p> +With that I fell in swoon, and dead as stone,<br/> +With colour slain,* and wan as ashes pale; *deathlike<br/> +And by the hand she caught me up anon:<br/> +“Arise,” quoth she; “what? have ye drunken dwale?* *sleeping potion <31><br/> +Why sleepe ye? It is no nightertale.”* *night-time<br/> +“Now mercy! sweet,” quoth I, y-wis afraid;<br/> +“What thing,” quoth she, “hath made you so dismay’d?” +</p> + +<p> +She said that by his hue she knew well that he was a lover; and +if he were secret, courteous, and kind, he might know how all +this could be allayed. She would amend all that she had missaid, +and set his heart at ease; but he must faithfully keep the statutes, +“and break them not for sloth nor ignorance.” The lover +requests, however, that the sixteenth may be released or +modified, for it “doth him great grievance;” and she complies. +</p> + +<p> +And softly then her colour gan appear,<br/> +As rose so red, throughout her visage all;<br/> +Wherefore methinks it is according* her *appropriate to<br/> +That she of right be called Rosial.<br/> +Thus have I won, with wordes great and small,<br/> +Some goodly word of her that I love best,<br/> +And trust she shall yet set mine heart in rest. +</p> + +<p> +Rosial now told Philobone to conduct Philogenet all over the +Court, and show him what lovers and what officers dwelt there; +for he was yet a stranger. +</p> + +<p> +And, stalking soft with easy pace, I saw<br/> +About the king standen all environ,* *around <32><br/> +Attendance, Diligence, and their fellaw<br/> +Furtherer, Esperance,* and many one; *Hope<br/> +Dread-to-offend there stood, and not alone;<br/> +For there was eke the cruel adversair,<br/> +The lover’s foe, that called is Despair; +</p> + +<p> +Which unto me spake angrily and fell,* *cruelly<br/> +And said, my lady me deceive shall:<br/> +“Trow’st thou,” quoth she, “that all that she did tell<br/> +Is true? Nay, nay, but under honey gall.<br/> +Thy birth and hers they be no thing egal:* *equal<br/> +Cast off thine heart, <33> for all her wordes white,<br/> +For in good faith she loves thee but a lite.* *little +</p> + +<p> +“And eke remember, thine ability<br/> +May not compare with her, this well thou wot.”<br/> +Yea, then came Hope and said, “My friend, let be!<br/> +Believe him not: Despair he gins to doat.”<br/> +“Alas,” quoth I, “here is both cold and hot:<br/> +The one me biddeth love, the other nay;<br/> +Thus wot I not what me is best to say. +</p> + +<p> +“But well wot I, my lady granted me<br/> +Truly to be my wounde’s remedy;<br/> +Her gentleness* may not infected be *noble nature<br/> +With doubleness,* this trust I till I die.” *duplicity<br/> +So cast I t’ avoid Despair’s company,<br/> +And take Hope to counsel and to friend.<br/> +“Yea, keep that well,” quoth Philobone, “in mind.” +</p> + +<p> +And there beside, within a bay window,<br/> +Stood one in green, full large of breadth and length,<br/> +His beard as black as feathers of the crow;<br/> +His name was Lust, of wondrous might and strength;<br/> +And with Delight to argue there he think’th,<br/> +For this was alway his opinion,<br/> +That love was sin: and so he hath begun +</p> + +<p> +To reason fast, and *ledge authority:* *allege authorities<br/> +“Nay,” quoth Delight, “love is a virtue clear,<br/> +And from the soul his progress holdeth he:<br/> +Blind appetite of lust doth often steer,* *stir (the heart)<br/> +And that is sin; for reason lacketh there:<br/> +For thou dost think thy neighbour’s wife to win;<br/> +Yet think it well that love may not be sin; +</p> + +<p> +“For God, and saint, they love right verily,<br/> +Void of all sin and vice: this know I weel,* *well<br/> +Affection of flesh is sin truly;<br/> +But very* love is virtue, as I feel; *true<br/> +For very love may frail desire akele:* *cool<br/> +For very love is love withoute sin.”<br/> +“Now stint,”* quoth Lust, “thou speak’st not worth a pin.” *cease +</p> + +<p> +And there I left them in their arguing,<br/> +Roaming farther into the castle wide,<br/> +And in a corner Liar stood talking<br/> +Of leasings* fast, with Flattery there beside; *falsehoods<br/> +He said that women *ware attire of pride, *wore<br/> +And men were found of nature variant,<br/> +And could be false and *showe beau semblant.* *put on plausible<br/> + appearances to deceive*<br/> +Then Flattery bespake and said, y-wis:<br/> +“See, so she goes on pattens fair and feat;* *pretty, neat<br/> +It doth right well: what pretty man is this<br/> +That roameth here? now truly drink nor meat<br/> +Need I not have, my heart for joy doth beat<br/> +Him to behold, so is he goodly fresh:<br/> +It seems for love his heart is tender and nesh.”* *soft <34> +</p> + +<p> +This is the Court of lusty folk and glad,<br/> +And well becomes their habit and array:<br/> +O why be some so sorry and so sad,<br/> +Complaining thus in black and white and gray?<br/> +Friars they be, and monkes, in good fay:<br/> +Alas, for ruth! great dole* it is to see, *sorrow<br/> +To see them thus bewail and sorry be. +</p> + +<p> +See how they cry and ring their handes white,<br/> +For they so soon* went to religion!, *young<br/> +And eke the nuns with veil and wimple plight,* *plaited<br/> +Their thought is, they be in confusion:<br/> +“Alas,” they say, “we feign perfection, <35><br/> +In clothes wide, and lack our liberty;<br/> +But all the sin must on our friendes be. <36> +</p> + +<p> +“For, Venus wot, we would as fain* as ye, *gladly<br/> +That be attired here and *well beseen,* *gaily clothed*<br/> +Desire man, and love in our degree,’<br/> +Firm and faithful, right as would the Queen:<br/> +Our friendes wick’, in tender youth and green,<br/> +Against our will made us religious;<br/> +That is the cause we mourn and waile thus.” +</p> + +<p> +Then said the monks and friars *in the tide,* *at the same time*<br/> +“Well may we curse our abbeys and our place,<br/> +Our statutes sharp to sing in copes wide, <37><br/> +Chastely to keep us out of love’s grace,<br/> +And never to feel comfort nor solace;* *delight<br/> +Yet suffer we the heat of love’s fire,<br/> +And after some other haply we desire. +</p> + +<p> +“O Fortune cursed, why now and wherefore<br/> +Hast thou,” they said, “bereft us liberty,<br/> +Since Nature gave us instrument in store,<br/> +And appetite to love and lovers be?<br/> +Why must we suffer such adversity,<br/> +Dian’ to serve, and Venus to refuse?<br/> +Full *often sithe* these matters do us muse. *many a time* +</p> + +<p> +“We serve and honour, sore against our will,<br/> +Of chastity the goddess and the queen;<br/> +*Us liefer were* with Venus bide still, *we would rather*<br/> +And have regard for love, and subject be’n<br/> +Unto these women courtly, fresh, and sheen.* *bright, beautiful<br/> +Fortune, we curse thy wheel of variance!<br/> +Where we were well, thou reavest* our pleasance.” *takest away +</p> + +<p> +Thus leave I them, with voice of plaint and care,<br/> +In raging woe crying full piteously;<br/> +And as I went, full naked and full bare<br/> +Some I beheld, looking dispiteously,<br/> +On Poverty that deadly cast their eye;<br/> +And “Well-away!” they cried, and were not fain,<br/> +For they might not their glad desire attain. +</p> + +<p> +For lack of riches worldly and of good,<br/> +They ban and curse, and weep, and say, “Alas!<br/> +That povert’ hath us hent,* that whilom stood *seized<br/> +At hearte’s ease, and free and in good case!<br/> +But now we dare not show ourselves in place,<br/> +Nor us embold* to dwell in company, *make bold, venture<br/> +Where as our heart would love right faithfully.” +</p> + +<p> +And yet againward shrieked ev’ry nun,<br/> +The pang of love so strained them to cry:<br/> +“Now woe the time,” quoth they, “that we be boun’!* *bound<br/> +This hateful order nice* will do us die! *into which we foolishly<br/> +We sigh and sob, and bleeden inwardly, entered<br/> +Fretting ourselves with thought and hard complaint,<br/> +That nigh for love we waxe wood* and faint.” *mad +</p> + +<p> +And as I stood beholding here and there,<br/> +I was ware of a sort* full languishing, *a class of people<br/> +Savage and wild of looking and of cheer,<br/> +Their mantles and their clothes aye tearing;<br/> +And oft they were of Nature complaining,<br/> +For they their members lacked, foot and hand,<br/> +With visage wry, and blind, I understand. +</p> + +<p> +They lacked shape and beauty to prefer<br/> +Themselves in love: and said that God and Kind* *Nature<br/> +Had forged* them to worshippe the sterre,** *fashioned **star<br/> +Venus the bright, and leften all behind<br/> +His other workes clean and out of mind:<br/> +“For other have their full shape and beauty,<br/> +And we,” quoth they, “be in deformity.” +</p> + +<p> +And nigh to them there was a company,<br/> +That have the Sisters warray’d and missaid,<br/> +I mean the three of fatal destiny, <38><br/> +That be our workers: suddenly abraid,* *aroused<br/> +Out gan they cry as they had been afraid;<br/> +“We curse,” quoth they, “that ever hath Nature<br/> +Y-formed us this woeful life t’endure.” +</p> + +<p> +And there eke was Contrite, and gan repent,<br/> +Confessing whole the wound that Cythere <39><br/> +Had with the dart of hot desire him sent,<br/> +And how that he to love must subject be:<br/> +Then held he all his scornes vanity,<br/> +And said that lovers held a blissful life,<br/> +Young men and old, and widow, maid, and wife. +</p> + +<p> +“Bereave me, Goddess!” quoth he, “of thy might,<br/> +My scornes all and scoffes, that I have<br/> +No power for to mocken any wight<br/> +That in thy service dwell: for I did rave;<br/> +This know I well right now, so God me save,<br/> +And I shall be the chief post* of thy faith, *prop, pillar<br/> +And love uphold, the reverse whoso saith.” +</p> + +<p> +Dissemble stood not far from him in truth,<br/> +With party* mantle, party hood and hose; *parti-coloured<br/> +And said he had upon his lady ruth,* *pity<br/> +And thus he wound him in, and gan to glose,<br/> +Of his intent full double, I suppose:<br/> +In all the world he said he lov’d her weel;<br/> +But ay me thought he lov’d her *ne’er a deal.* *never a jot* +</p> + +<p> +Eke Shamefastness was there, as I took heed,<br/> +That blushed red, and durst not be y-know<br/> +She lover was, for thereof had she dread;<br/> +She stood and hung her visage down alow;<br/> +But such a sight it was to see, I trow,<br/> +As of these roses ruddy on their stalk:<br/> +There could no wight her spy to speak or talk +</p> + +<p> +In love’s art, so gan she to abash,<br/> +Nor durst not utter all her privity:<br/> +Many a stripe and many a grievous lash<br/> +She gave to them that woulde lovers be,<br/> +And hinder’d sore the simple commonalty,<br/> +That in no wise durst grace and mercy crave,<br/> +For *were not she,* they need but ask and have; *but for her* +</p> + +<p> +Where if they now approache for to speak,<br/> +Then Shamefastness *returneth them* again: *turns them back*<br/> +They think, “If we our secret counsel break,<br/> +Our ladies will have scorn us certain,<br/> +And peradventure thinke great disdain:”<br/> +Thus Shamefastness may bringen in Despair;<br/> +When she is dead the other will be heir. +</p> + +<p> + “Come forth Avaunter! now I ring thy bell!” <40><br/> +I spied him soon; to God I make avow,* *confession<br/> +He looked black as fiendes do in Hell:<br/> +“The first,” quoth he, “that ever I did wow,* *woo<br/> +*Within a word she came,* I wot not how, *she was won with<br/> +So that in armes was my lady free, a single word*<br/> +And so have been a thousand more than she. +</p> + +<p> +“In England, Britain,* Spain, and Picardy, *Brittany<br/> +Artois, and France, and up in high Holland,<br/> +In Burgoyne,* Naples, and in Italy, *Burgundy<br/> +Navarre, and Greece, and up in heathen land,<br/> +Was never woman yet that would withstand<br/> +To be at my commandment when I wo’ld:<br/> +I lacked neither silver coin nor gold. +</p> + +<p> +“And there I met with this estate and that;<br/> +And her I broach’d, and her, and her, I trow:<br/> +Lo! there goes one of mine; and, wot ye what?<br/> +Yon fresh attired have I laid full low;<br/> +And such one yonder eke right well I know;<br/> +I kept the statute <41> when we lay y-fere:* *together<br/> +And yet* yon same hath made me right good cheer.” *also +</p> + +<p> +Thus hath Avaunter blowen ev’rywhere<br/> +All that he knows, and more a thousand fold;<br/> +His ancestry of kin was to Lier,* *Liar<br/> +For first he maketh promise for to hold<br/> +His lady’s counsel, and it not unfold; —<br/> +Wherefore, the secret when he doth unshit,* *disclose<br/> +Then lieth he, that all the world may wit.* *know +</p> + +<p> +For falsing so his promise and behest,* *trust<br/> +I wonder sore he hath such fantasy;<br/> +He lacketh wit, I trow, or is a beast,<br/> +That can no bet* himself with reason guy** *better **guide<br/> +By mine advice, Love shall be contrary<br/> +To his avail,* and him eke dishonour, *advantage<br/> +So that in Court he shall no more sojour.* *sojourn, remain +</p> + +<p> +“Take heed,” quoth she, this little Philobone,<br/> +“Where Envy rocketh in the corner yond,* *yonder<br/> +And sitteth dark; and ye shall see anon<br/> +His lean body, fading both face and hand;<br/> +Himself he fretteth,* as I understand devoureth<br/> +(Witness of Ovid Metamorphoseos); <42><br/> +The lover’s foe he is, I will not glose.* *gloss over +</p> + +<p> +“For where a lover thinketh *him promote,* *to promote himself*<br/> +Envy will grudge, repining at his weal;<br/> +It swelleth sore about his hearte’s root,<br/> +That in no wise he cannot live in heal;* *health<br/> +And if the faithful to his lady steal,<br/> +Envy will noise and ring it round about,<br/> +And say much worse than done is, out of doubt.” +</p> + +<p> +And Privy Thought, rejoicing of himself, —<br/> +Stood not far thence in habit marvellous;<br/> +“Yon is,” thought I, “some spirit or some elf,<br/> +His subtile image is so curious:<br/> +How is,” quoth I, “that he is shaded thus<br/> +With yonder cloth, I n’ot* of what color?” *know not<br/> +And near I went and gan *to lear and pore,* *to ascertain and<br/> + gaze curiously*<br/> +And frained* him a question full hard. *asked<br/> +“What is,” quoth I, “the thing thou lovest best?<br/> +Or what is boot* unto thy paines hard? *remedy<br/> +Me thinks thou livest here in great unrest,<br/> +Thou wand’rest aye from south to east and west,<br/> +And east to north; as far as I can see,<br/> +There is no place in Court may holde thee. +</p> + +<p> +“Whom followest thou? where is thy heart y-set?<br/> +But *my demand assoil,* I thee require.” *answer my question*<br/> +“Me thought,” quoth he, “no creature may let* *hinder<br/> +Me to be here, and where as I desire;<br/> +For where as absence hath out the fire,<br/> +My merry thought it kindleth yet again,<br/> +That bodily, me thinks, with *my sov’reign* *my lady* +</p> + +<p> +“I stand, and speak, and laugh, and kiss, and halse;* *embrace<br/> +So that my thought comforteth me full oft:<br/> +I think, God wot, though all the world be false,<br/> +I will be true; I think also how soft<br/> +My lady is in speech, and this on loft<br/> +Bringeth my heart with joy and great gladness;<br/> +This privy thought allays my heaviness. +</p> + +<p> +“And what I think, or where, to be, no man<br/> +In all this Earth can tell, y-wis, but I:<br/> +And eke there is no swallow swift, nor swan<br/> +So wight* of wing, nor half so yern** can fly; *nimble **eagerly<br/> +For I can be, and that right suddenly,<br/> +In Heav’n, in Hell, in Paradise, and here,<br/> +And with my lady, when I will desire. +</p> + +<p> +“I am of counsel far and wide, I wot,<br/> +With lord and lady, and their privity<br/> +I wot it all; but, be it cold or hot,<br/> +They shall not speak without licence of me.<br/> +I mean, in such as seasonable* be, *prudent<br/> +Tho* first the thing is thought within the heart, *when<br/> +Ere any word out from the mouth astart.”* *escape +</p> + +<p> +And with the word Thought bade farewell and yede:* *went away<br/> +Eke forth went I to see the Courte’s guise,<br/> +And at the door came in, so God me speed,<br/> +Two courtiers of age and of assise* *size<br/> +Like high, and broad, and, as I me advise,<br/> +The Golden Love and Leaden Love <43> they hight:* *were called<br/> +The one was sad, the other glad and light. +</p> + +<p> +At this point there is a hiatus in the poem, which abruptly ceases +to narrate the tour of Philogenet and Philobone round the +Court, and introduces us again to Rosial, who is speaking thus +to her lover, apparently in continuation of a confession of love: +</p> + +<p> +“Yes! draw your heart, with all your force and might,<br/> +To lustiness, and be as ye have said.” +</p> + +<p> +She admits that she would have given him no drop of favour, +but that she saw him “wax so dead of countenance;” then Pity +“out of her shrine arose from death to life,” whisperingly +entreating that she would do him some pleasance. Philogenet +protests his gratitude to Pity, his faithfulness to Rosial; and the +lady, thanking him heartily, bids him abide with her till the +season of May, when the King of Love and all his company will +hold his feast fully royally and well. “And there I bode till that +the season fell.” +</p> + +<p> +On May Day, when the lark began to rise,<br/> +To matins went the lusty nightingale,<br/> +Within a temple shapen hawthorn-wise;<br/> +He might not sleep in all the nightertale,* *night-time<br/> +But “Domine” <44> gan he cry and gale,* *call out<br/> +“My lippes open, Lord of Love, I cry,<br/> +And let my mouth thy praising now bewry.”* *show forth +</p> + +<p> +The eagle sang “Venite,” <45> bodies all,<br/> +And let us joy to love that is our health.”<br/> +And to the desk anon they gan to fall,<br/> +And who came late he pressed in by stealth<br/> +Then said the falcon, “Our own heartes’ wealth,<br/> +‘Domine Dominus noster,’ <46> I wot,<br/> +Ye be the God that do* us burn thus hot.” *make +</p> + +<p> +“Coeli enarrant,” <47> said the popinjay,* *parrot<br/> +“Your might is told in Heav’n and firmament.”<br/> +And then came in the goldfinch fresh and gay,<br/> +And said this psalm with heartly glad intent,<br/> +“Domini est terra;” <48> this Latin intent,* *means<br/> +The God of Love hath earth in governance:<br/> +And then the wren began to skip and dance. +</p> + +<p> +“Jube Domine; <49> O Lord of Love, I pray<br/> +Command me well this lesson for to read;<br/> +This legend is of all that woulde dey* *die<br/> +Martyrs for love; God yet their soules speed!<br/> +And to thee, Venus, sing we, *out of dread,* *without doubt*<br/> +By influence of all thy virtue great,<br/> +Beseeching thee to keep us in our heat.” +</p> + +<p> +The second lesson robin redbreast sang,<br/> +“Hail to the God and Goddess of our lay!”* *law, religion<br/> +And to the lectern amorously he sprang:<br/> +“Hail now,” quoth be, “O fresh season of May,<br/> +*Our moneth glad that singen on the spray!* *glad month for us that<br/> +Hail to the flowers, red, and white, and blue, sing upon the bough*<br/> +Which by their virtue maken our lust new!” +</p> + +<p> +The third lesson the turtle-dove took up,<br/> +And thereat laugh’d the mavis* in a scorn: *blackbird<br/> +He said, “O God, as might I dine or sup,<br/> +This foolish dove will give us all a horn!<br/> +There be right here a thousand better born,<br/> +To read this lesson, which as well as he,<br/> +And eke as hot, can love in all degree.” +</p> + +<p> +The turtle-dove said, “Welcome, welcome May,<br/> +Gladsome and light to lovers that be true!<br/> +I thank thee, Lord of Love, that doth purvey<br/> +For me to read this lesson all *of due;* *in due form*<br/> +For, in good sooth, *of corage* I pursue *with all my heart*<br/> +To serve my make* till death us must depart:” *mate<br/> +And then “Tu autem” <50> sang he all apart. +</p> + +<p> +“Te Deum amoris” <51> sang the throstel* cock: *thrush<br/> +Tubal <52> himself, the first musician,<br/> +With key of harmony could not unlock<br/> +So sweet a tune as that the throstel can:<br/> +“The Lord of Love we praise,” quoth he than,* *then<br/> +And so do all the fowles great and lite;* *little<br/> +“Honour we May, in false lovers’ despite.” +</p> + +<p> +“Dominus regnavit,” <53> said the peacock there,<br/> +“The Lord of Love, that mighty prince, y-wis,<br/> +He is received here and ev’rywhere:<br/> +Now Jubilate <54> sing:” “What meaneth this?”<br/> +Said then the linnet; “welcome, Lord of bliss!”<br/> +Out start the owl with “Benedicite,” <55><br/> +“What meaneth all this merry fare?”* quoth he. *doing, fuss +</p> + +<p> +“Laudate,” <56> sang the lark with voice full shrill;<br/> +And eke the kite “O admirabile;” <57><br/> +This quire* will through mine eares pierce and thrill; *choir<br/> +But what? welcome this May season,” quoth he;<br/> +“And honour to the Lord of Love must be,<br/> +That hath this feast so solemn and so high:”<br/> +“Amen,” said all; and so said eke the pie.* *magpie +</p> + +<p> +And forth the cuckoo gan proceed anon,<br/> +With “Benedictus” <58> thanking God in haste,<br/> +That in this May would visit them each one,<br/> +And gladden them all while the feast shall last:<br/> +And therewithal a-laughter* out he brast;”** *in laughter **burst<br/> +“I thanke God that I should end the song,<br/> +And all the service which hath been so long.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus sang they all the service of the feast,<br/> +And that was done right early, to my doom;* *judgment<br/> +And forth went all the Court, both *most and least,* *great and small<br/> +To fetch the flowers fresh, and branch and bloom;<br/> +And namely* hawthorn brought both page and groom, *especially<br/> +With freshe garlands party* blue and white, <59> *parti-coloured<br/> +And then rejoiced in their great delight. +</p> + +<p> +Eke each at other threw the flowers bright,<br/> +The primerose, the violet, and the gold;<br/> +So then, as I beheld the royal sight,<br/> +My lady gan me suddenly behold,<br/> +And with a true love, plighted many a fold,<br/> +She smote me through the very heart *as blive;* *straightway*<br/> +And Venus yet I thank I am alive. +</p> + +<p> +Explicit* *The End +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to The Court of Love +</p> + +<p> +1. So the Man of Law, in the prologue to his Tale, is made to +say that Chaucer “can but lewedly (ignorantly or imperfectly) on +metres and on rhyming craftily.” But the humility of those +apologies is not justified by the care and finish of his earlier +poems. +</p> + +<p> +2. Born: burnish, polish: the poet means, that his verses do not +display the eloquence or brilliancy of Cicero in setting forth his +subject-matter. +</p> + +<p> +3. Galfrid: Geoffrey de Vinsauf to whose treatise on poetical +composition a less flattering allusion is made in The Nun’s +Priest’s Tale. See note 33 to that Tale. +</p> + +<p> +4. Stirp: race, stock; Latin, “stirps.” +</p> + +<p> +5. Calliope is the epic muse — “sister” to the other eight. +</p> + +<p> +6. Melpomene was the tragic muse. +</p> + +<p> +7. The same is said of Griselda, in The Clerk’s Tale; though she +was of tender years, “yet in the breast of her virginity there was +inclos’d a sad and ripe corage” +</p> + +<p> +8. The confusion which Chaucer makes between Cithaeron and +Cythera, has already been remarked. See note 41 to the +Knight’s Tale. +</p> + +<p> +9. Balais: Bastard rubies; said to be so called from Balassa, the +Asian country where they were found. Turkeis: turquoise +stones. +</p> + +<p> +10. Spenser, in his description of the House of Busirane, speaks +of the sad distress into which Phoebus was plunged by Cupid, in +revenge for the betrayal of “his mother’s wantonness, when she +with Mars was meint [mingled] in joyfulness” +</p> + +<p> +11. Alcestis, daughter of Pelias, was won to wife by Admetus, +King of Pherae, who complied with her father’s demand that he +should come to claim her in a chariot drawn by lions and boars. +By the aid of Apollo — who tended the flocks of Admetus +during his banishment from heaven — the suitor fulfilled the +condition; and Apollo further induced the Moirae or Fates to +grant that Admetus should never die, if his father, mother, or +wife would die for him. Alcestis devoted herself in his stead; +and, since each had made great efforts or sacrifices for love, the +pair are fitly placed as king and queen in the Court of Love. +</p> + +<p> +12. In the prologue to the “Legend of Good Women,” Chaucer +says that behind the God of Love, upon the green, he “saw +coming in ladies nineteen;” but the stories of only nine good +women are there told. In the prologue to The Man of Law’s +Tale, sixteen ladies are named as having their stories written in +the “Saints’ Legend of Cupid” — now known as the “Legend of +Good Women” — (see note 5 to the Prologue to the Man of +Law’s Tale); and in the “Retractation,” at the end of the Parson’s +Tale, the “Book of the Twenty-five Ladies” is enumerated +among the works of which the poet repents — but there “xxv” is +supposed to have been by some copyist written for “xix.” +</p> + +<p> +13. fele: many; German, “viele.” +</p> + +<p> +14. Arras: tapestry of silk, made at Arras, in France. +</p> + +<p> +15. Danger, in the Provencal Courts of Love, was the +allegorical personification of the husband; and Disdain suitably +represents the lover’s corresponding difficulty from the side of +the lady. +</p> + +<p> +16. In The Knight’s Tale, Emily’s yellow hair is braided in a +tress, or plait, that hung a yard long behind her back; so that, +both as regards colour and fashion, a singular resemblance +seems to have existed between the female taste of 1369 and that +of 1869. +</p> + +<p> +17. In an old monkish story — reproduced by Boccaccio, and +from him by La Fontaine in the Tale called “Les Oies de Frere +Philippe” — a young man is brought up without sight or +knowledge of women, and, when he sees them on a visit to the +city, he is told that they are geese. +</p> + +<p> +18. Tabernacle: A shrine or canopy of stone, supported by +pillars. +</p> + +<p> +19. Mister folk: handicraftsmen, or tradesmen, who have +learned “mysteries.” +</p> + +<p> +20. The loves “Of Queen Annelida and False Arcite” formed the +subject of a short unfinished poem by Chaucer, which was +afterwards worked up into The Knight’s Tale. +</p> + +<p> +21. Blue was the colour of truth. See note 36 to the Squire’s +Tale. +</p> + +<p> +22. Blife: quickly, eagerly; for “blive” or “belive.” +</p> + +<p> +23. It will be seen afterwards that Philogenet does not relish it, +and pleads for its relaxation. +</p> + +<p> +24. Feat: dainty, neat, handsome; the same as “fetis,” oftener +used in Chaucer; the adverb “featly” is still used, as applied to +dancing, &c. +</p> + +<p> +25. Solomon was beguiled by his heathenish wives to forsake +the worship of the true God; Samson fell a victim to the wiles of +Delilah. +</p> + +<p> +26. Compare the speech of Proserpine to Pluto, in The +Merchant’s Tale. +</p> + +<p> +27. See note 91 to the Knight’s Tale for a parallel. +</p> + +<p> +28. Flaw: yellow; Latin, “flavus,” French, “fauve.” +</p> + +<p> +29. Bass: kiss; French, “baiser;” and hence the more vulgar +“buss.” +</p> + +<p> +30. Maximian: Cornelius Maximianus Gallus flourished in the +time of the Emperor Anastasius; in one of his elegies, he +professed a preference for flaming and somewhat swelling lips, +which, when he tasted them, would give him full kisses. +</p> + +<p> +31. Dwale: sleeping potion, narcotic. See note 19 to the Reeve’s +Tale. +</p> + +<p> +32. Environ: around; French, “a l’environ.” +</p> + +<p> +33. Cast off thine heart: i.e. from confidence in her. +</p> + +<p> +34. Nesh: soft, delicate; Anglo-Saxon, “nese.” +</p> + +<p> +35. Perfection: Perfectly holy life, in the performance of vows +of poverty, chastity, obedience, and other modes of mortifying +the flesh. +</p> + +<p> +36. All the sin must on our friendes be: who made us take the +vows before they knew our own dispositions, or ability, to keep +them. +</p> + +<p> +37. Cope: The large vestment worn in singing the service in the +choir. In Chaucer’s time it seems to have been a distinctively +clerical piece of dress; so, in the prologue to The Monk’s Tale, +the Host, lamenting that so stalwart a man as the Monk should +have gone into religion, exclaims, “Alas! why wearest thou so +wide a cope?” +</p> + +<p> +38. The three of fatal destiny: The three Fates. +</p> + +<p> +39. Cythere: Cytherea — Venus, so called from the name of +the island, Cythera, into which her worship was first introduced +from Phoenicia. +</p> + +<p> +40. Avaunter: Boaster; Philobone calls him out. +</p> + +<p> +41. The statute: i.e. the 16th. +</p> + +<p> +42. “Metamorphoses” Lib. ii. 768 et seqq., where a general +description of Envy is given. +</p> + +<p> +43. Golden Love and Leaden Love represent successful and +unsuccessful love; the first kindled by Cupid’s golden darts, the +second by his leaden arrows. +</p> + +<p> +44. “Domine, labia mea aperies — et os meam annunciabit +laudem tuam” (“Lord, open my lips — and my mouth will +announce your praise”) Psalms li. 15, was the verse with which +Matins began. The stanzas which follow contain a paraphrase of +the matins for Trinity Sunday, allegorically setting forth the +doctrine that love is the all-controlling influence in the +government of the +universe. +</p> + +<p> +45. “Venite, exultemus,” (“Come, let us rejoice”) are the first +words of Psalm xcv. called the “Invitatory.” +</p> + +<p> +46. “Domine Dominus noster:” The opening words of Psalm +viii.; “O Lord our Lord.” +</p> + +<p> +47. “Coeli enarrant:” Psalm xix. 1; “The heavens declare (thy +glory).” +</p> + +<p> +48. “Domini est terra”: Psalm xxiv. I; “The earth is the Lord’s +and the fulness thereof.” The first “nocturn” is now over, and +the lessons from Scripture follow. +</p> + +<p> +49. “Jube, Domine:” “Command, O Lord;” from Matthew xiv. +28, where Peter, seeing Christ walking on the water, says +“Lord, if it be thou, bid me come to thee on the water.” +</p> + +<p> +50: “Tu autem:” the formula recited by the reader at the end of +each lesson; “Tu autem, Domine, miserere nobis.” (“But do +thou, O Lord, have pity on us!”) +</p> + +<p> +51. “Te Deum Amoris:” “Thee, God of Love (we praise).” +</p> + +<p> +52. Not Tubal, who was the worker in metals; but Jubal, his +brother, “who was the father of all such as handle the harp and +organ” (Genesis iv. 21). +</p> + +<p> +53. “Dominus regnavit:” Psalm xciii. 1, “The Lord reigneth.” +With this began the “Laudes,” or morning service of praise. +</p> + +<p> +54. “Jubilate:” Psalm c. 1, “Make a joyful noise unto the Lord.” +</p> + +<p> +55. “Benedicite:” “Bless ye the Lord;” the opening of the Song +of the Three Children +</p> + +<p> +56. “Laudate:” Psalm cxlvii.; “Praise ye the Lord.” +</p> + +<p> +57. “O admirabile:” Psalm viii 1; “O Lord our God, how +excellent is thy name.” +</p> + +<p> +58. “Benedictus”: The first word of the Song of Zacharias +(Luke i. 68); “Blessed be the Lord God of Israel” +</p> + +<p> +59. In The Knight’s Tale we have exemplifications of the +custom of gathering and wearing flowers and branches on May +Day; where Emily, “doing observance to May,” goes into the +garden at sunrise and gathers flowers, “party white and red, to +make a sotel garland for her head”; and again, where Arcite +rides to the fields “to make him a garland of the greves; were it +of woodbine, or of hawthorn leaves” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap31"></a>THE CUCKOO AND THE NIGHTINGALE.</h2> + +<p> +[THE noble vindication of true love, as an exalting, purifying, +and honour-conferring power, which Chaucer has made in “The +Court of Love,” is repeated in “The Cuckoo and the +Nightingale.” At the same time, the close of the poem leads up +to “The Assembly of Fowls;” for, on the appeal of the +Nightingale, the dispute between her and the Cuckoo, on the +merits and blessings of love, is referred to a parliament of birds, +to be held on the morrow after Saint Valentine’s Day. True, the +assembly of the feathered tribes described by Chaucer, though +held on Saint Valentine’s Day, and engaged in the discussion of +a controversy regarding love, is not occupied with the particular +cause which in the present poem the Nightingale appeals to the +parliament. But “The Cuckoo and the Nightingale” none the less +serves as a link between the two poems; indicating as it does the +nature of those controversies, in matters subject to the supreme +control of the King and Queen of Love, which in the subsequent +poem we find the courtiers, under the guise of birds, debating in +full conclave and under legal forms. Exceedingly simple in +conception, and written in a metre full of musical irregularity +and forcible freedom, “The Cuckoo and the Nightingale” yields +in vividness, delicacy, and grace to none of Chaucer’s minor +poems. We are told that the poet, on the third night of May, is +sleepless, and rises early in the morning, to try if he may hear +the Nightingale sing. Wandering by a brook-side, he sits down +on the flowery lawn, and ere long, lulled by the sweet melody of +many birds and the well-according music of the stream, he falls +into a kind of doze — “not all asleep, nor fully waking.” Then +(an evil omen) he hears the Cuckoo sing before the Nightingale; +but soon he hears the Nightingale request the Cuckoo to +remove far away, and leave the place to birds that can sing. The +Cuckoo enters into a defence of her song, which becomes a +railing accusation against Love and a recital of the miseries +which Love’s servants endure; the Nightingale vindicates Love +in a lofty and tender strain, but is at last overcome with sorrow +by the bitter words of the Cuckoo, and calls on the God of +Love for help. On this the poet starts up, and, snatching a stone +from the brook, throws it at the Cuckoo, who flies away full +fast. The grateful Nightingale promises that, for this service, she +will be her champion’s singer all that May; she warns him +against believing the Cuckoo, the foe of Love; and then, having +sung him one of her new songs, she flies away to all the other +birds that are in that dale, assembles them, and demands that +they should do her right upon the Cuckoo. By one assent it is +agreed that a parliament shall be held, “the morrow after Saint +Valentine’s Day,” under a maple before the window of Queen +Philippa at Woodstock, when judgment shall be passed upon +the Cuckoo; then the Nightingale flies into a hawthorn, and +sings a lay of love so loud that the poet awakes. The five-line +stanza, of which the first, second, and fifth lines agree in one +rhyme, the third and fourth in another, is peculiar to this poem; +and while the prevailing measure is the decasyllabic line used in +the “Canterbury Tales,” many of the lines have one or two +syllables less. The poem is given here without abridgement.] +(Transcriber’s note: Modern scholars believe that Chaucer was +not the author of this poem) +</p> + +<p> +THE God of Love, ah! benedicite,<br/> +How mighty and how great a lord is he! <1><br/> +For he can make of lowe heartes high,<br/> +And of high low, and like for to die,<br/> +And harde heartes he can make free. +</p> + +<p> +He can make, within a little stound,* *moment<br/> +Of sicke folke whole, and fresh, and sound,<br/> +And of the whole he can make sick;<br/> +He can bind, and unbinden eke,<br/> +What he will have bounden or unbound. +</p> + +<p> +To tell his might my wit may not suffice;<br/> +For he can make of wise folk full nice,* — *foolish<br/> +For he may do all that he will devise, —<br/> +And lither* folke to destroye vice, *idle, vicious<br/> +And proude heartes he can make agrise.* *tremble +</p> + +<p> +Shortly, all that ever he will he may;<br/> +Against him dare no wight say nay;<br/> +For he can glad and grieve *whom him liketh.* *whom he pleases*<br/> +And who that he will, he laugheth or siketh,* *sigheth<br/> +And most his might he sheddeth ever in May. +</p> + +<p> +For every true gentle hearte free,<br/> +That with him is, or thinketh for to be,<br/> +Against May now shall have some stirring,* *impulse<br/> +Either to joy, or else to some mourning,<br/> +In no season so much, as thinketh me. +</p> + +<p> +For when that they may hear the birdes sing,<br/> +And see the flowers and the leaves spring,<br/> +That bringeth into hearte’s remembrance<br/> +A manner ease, *medled with grievance,* *mingled with sorrow*<br/> +And lusty thoughtes full of great longing. +</p> + +<p> +And of that longing cometh heaviness,<br/> +And thereof groweth greate sickeness,<br/> +And <2> for the lack of that that they desire:<br/> +And thus in May be heartes set on fire,<br/> +So that they brennen* forth in great distress. *burn +</p> + +<p> +I speake this of feeling truely;<br/> +If I be old and unlusty,<br/> +Yet I have felt the sickness thorough May<br/> +*Both hot and cold, an access ev’ry day,* *every day a hot and a<br/> +How sore, y-wis, there wot no wight but I. cold fit* +</p> + +<p> +I am so shaken with the fevers white,<br/> +Of all this May sleep I but lite;* *little<br/> +And also it is not like* unto me *pleasing<br/> +That any hearte shoulde sleepy be,<br/> +In whom that Love his fiery dart will smite, +</p> + +<p> +But as I lay this other night waking,<br/> +I thought how lovers had a tokening,* *significance<br/> +And among them it was a common tale,<br/> +That it were good to hear the nightingale<br/> +Rather than the lewd cuckoo sing. +</p> + +<p> +And then I thought, anon* it was day, *whenever<br/> +I would go somewhere to assay<br/> +If that I might a nightingale hear;<br/> +For yet had I none heard of all that year,<br/> +And it was then the thirde night of May. +</p> + +<p> +And anon as I the day espied,<br/> +No longer would I in my bed abide;<br/> +But to a wood that was fast by,<br/> +I went forth alone boldely,<br/> +And held the way down by a brooke’s side, +</p> + +<p> +Till I came to a laund* of white and green, *lawn<br/> +So fair a one had I never in been;<br/> +The ground was green, *y-powder’d with daisy,* *strewn with daisies*<br/> +The flowers and the *greves like high,* *bushes of the same height*<br/> +All green and white; was nothing elles seen. +</p> + +<p> +There sat I down among the faire flow’rs,<br/> +And saw the birdes trip out of their bow’rs,<br/> +There as they rested them alle the night;<br/> +They were so joyful of the daye’s light,<br/> +They began of May for to do honours. +</p> + +<p> +They coud* that service all by rote; *knew<br/> +There was many a lovely note!<br/> +Some sange loud as they had plain’d,<br/> +And some in other manner voice feign’d,<br/> +And some all out with the full throat. +</p> + +<p> +They proined* them, and made them right gay, *preened their feathers<br/> +And danc’d and leapt upon the spray;<br/> +And evermore two and two in fere,* *together<br/> +Right so as they had chosen them to-year* *this year<br/> +In Feverere* upon Saint Valentine’s Day. *February +</p> + +<p> +And the river that I sat upon,* *beside<br/> +It made such a noise as it ran,<br/> +Accordant* with the birde’s harmony, *keeping time with<br/> +Me thought it was the beste melody<br/> +That might be heard of any man. +</p> + +<p> +And for delight, I wote never how,<br/> +I fell in such a slumber and a swow, — *swoon<br/> +Not all asleep, nor fully waking, —<br/> +And in that swow me thought I hearde sing<br/> +The sorry bird, the lewd cuckow; +</p> + +<p> +And that was on a tree right faste by.<br/> +But who was then *evil apaid* but I? *dissatisfied<br/> +“Now God,” quoth I, “that died on the crois,* *cross<br/> +Give sorrow on thee, and on thy lewed voice!<br/> +Full little joy have I now of thy cry.” +</p> + +<p> +And as I with the cuckoo thus gan chide,<br/> +I heard, in the next bush beside,<br/> +A nightingale so lustily sing,<br/> +That her clear voice she made ring<br/> +Through all the greenwood wide. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, good Nightingale,” quoth I then,<br/> +“A little hast thou been too long hen;* *hence, absent<br/> +For here hath been the lewd cuckow,<br/> +And sung songs rather* than hast thou: *sooner<br/> +I pray to God that evil fire her bren!”* *burn +</p> + +<p> +But now I will you tell a wondrous thing:<br/> +As long as I lay in that swooning,<br/> +Me thought I wist what the birds meant,<br/> +And what they said, and what was their intent<br/> +And of their speech I hadde good knowing. +</p> + +<p> +There heard I the nightingale say:<br/> +“Now, good Cuckoo, go somewhere away,<br/> +And let us that can singe dwelle here;<br/> +For ev’ry wight escheweth* thee to hear, *shuns<br/> +Thy songes be so elenge,* in good fay.”** *strange **faith +</p> + +<p> +“What,” quoth she, “what may thee all now<br/> +It thinketh me, I sing as well as thou,<br/> +For my song is both true and plain,<br/> +Although I cannot crakel* so in vain, *sing tremulously<br/> +As thou dost in thy throat, I wot ne’er how. +</p> + +<p> +“And ev’ry wight may understande me,<br/> +But, Nightingale, so may they not do thee,<br/> +For thou hast many a nice quaint* cry; *foolish<br/> +I have thee heard say, ‘ocy, ocy;’ <3><br/> +How might I know what that should be?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah fool,” quoth she, “wost thou not what it is?<br/> +When that I say, ‘ocy, ocy,’ y-wis,<br/> +Then mean I that I woulde wonder fain<br/> +That all they were shamefully slain, *die<br/> +That meanen aught againe love amiss. +</p> + +<p> +“And also I would that all those were dead,<br/> +That thinke not in love their life to lead,<br/> +For who so will the god of Love not serve,<br/> +I dare well say he is worthy to sterve,* *die<br/> +And for that skill,* ‘ocy, ocy,’ I grede.”** *reason **cry +</p> + +<p> +“Ey!” quoth the cuckoo, “this is a quaint* law, *strange<br/> +That every wight shall love or be to-draw!* *torn to pieces<br/> +But I forsake alle such company;<br/> +For mine intent is not for to die,<br/> +Nor ever, while I live, *on Love’s yoke to draw.* *to put on love’s<br/> + yoke*<br/> +“For lovers be the folk that be alive,<br/> +That most disease have, and most unthrive,* *misfortune<br/> +And most endure sorrow, woe, and care,<br/> +And leaste feelen of welfare:<br/> +What needeth it against the truth to strive?” +</p> + +<p> +“What?” quoth she, “thou art all out of thy mind!<br/> +How mightest thou in thy churlishness find<br/> +To speak of Love’s servants in this wise?<br/> +For in this world is none so good service<br/> +To ev’ry wight that gentle is of kind; +</p> + +<p> +“For thereof truly cometh all gladness,<br/> +All honour and all gentleness,<br/> +Worship, ease, and all hearte’s lust,* *pleasure<br/> +Perfect joy, and full assured trust,<br/> +Jollity, pleasance, and freshness, +</p> + +<p> +“Lowlihead, largess, and courtesy,<br/> +Seemelihead, and true company,<br/> +Dread of shame for to do amiss;<br/> +For he that truly Love’s servant is,<br/> +Were lother* to be shamed than to die. *more reluctant +</p> + +<p> +“And that this is sooth that I say,<br/> +In that belief I will live and dey;<br/> +And, Cuckoo, so I rede* that thou, do y-wis.” *counsel<br/> +“Then,” quoth he, “let me never have bliss,<br/> +If ever I to that counsail obey! +</p> + +<p> +“Nightingale, thou speakest wondrous fair,<br/> +But, for all that, is the sooth contrair;<br/> +For love is in young folk but rage,<br/> +And in old folk a great dotage;<br/> +Who most it useth, moste shall enpair.* *suffer harm +</p> + +<p> +“For thereof come disease and heaviness,<br/> +Sorrow and care, and many a great sickness,<br/> +Despite, debate, anger, envy,<br/> +Depraving,* shame, untrust, and jealousy, *loss of fame or character<br/> +Pride, mischief, povert’, and woodness.* *madness +</p> + +<p> +“Loving is an office of despair,<br/> +And one thing is therein that is not fair;<br/> +For who that gets of love a little bliss,<br/> +*But if he be away therewith, y-wis,<br/> +He may full soon of age have his hair.* *see note <5>* +</p> + +<p> +“And, Nightingale, therefore hold thee nigh;<br/> +For, ’lieve me well, for all thy quainte cry,<br/> +If thou be far or longe from thy make,* *mate<br/> +Thou shalt be as other that be forsake,<br/> +And then thou shalt hoten* as do I.” *be called +</p> + +<p> +“Fie,” quoth she, “on thy name and on thee!<br/> +The god of Love let thee never the!* *thrive<br/> +For thou art worse a thousand fold than wood,* *mad<br/> +For many one is full worthy and full good,<br/> +That had been naught, ne hadde Love y-be. +</p> + +<p> +“For evermore Love his servants amendeth,<br/> +And from all evile taches* them defendeth, *blemishes<br/> +And maketh them to burn right in a fire,<br/> +In truth and in worshipful* desire, *honourable<br/> +And, when him liketh, joy enough them sendeth.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thou Nightingale,” he said, “be still!<br/> +For Love hath no reason but his will;<br/> +For ofttime untrue folk he easeth,<br/> +And true folk so bitterly displeaseth,<br/> +That for default of grace* he lets them spill.”** *favour **be ruined +</p> + +<p> +Then took I of the nightingale keep,<br/> +How she cast a sigh out of her deep,<br/> +And said, “Alas, that ever I was bore!<br/> +I can for teen* not say one worde more;” *vexation, grief<br/> +And right with that word she burst out to weep. +</p> + +<p> +“Alas!” quoth she, “my hearte will to-break<br/> +To heare thus this lewd bird speak<br/> +Of Love, and of his worshipful service.<br/> +Now, God of Love, thou help me in some wise,<br/> +That I may on this cuckoo be awreak!”* *revenged +</p> + +<p> +Methought then I start up anon,<br/> +And to the brook I ran and got a stone,<br/> +And at the cuckoo heartly cast;<br/> +And for dread he flew away full fast,<br/> +And glad was I when he was gone. +</p> + +<p> +And evermore the cuckoo, as he flay,* *flew<br/> +He saide, “Farewell, farewell, popinjay,”<br/> +As though he had scorned, thought me;<br/> +But ay I hunted him from the tree,<br/> +Until he was far out of sight away. +</p> + +<p> +And then came the nightingale to me,<br/> +And said, “Friend, forsooth I thank thee<br/> +That thou hast lik’d me to rescow;* *rescue<br/> +And one avow to Love make I now,<br/> +That all this May I will thy singer be.” +</p> + +<p> +I thanked her, and was right *well apaid:* *satisfied<br/> +“Yea,” quoth she, “and be thou not dismay’d,<br/> +Though thou have heard the cuckoo *erst than* me; <6> *before<br/> +For, if I live, it shall amended be<br/> +The next May, if I be not afraid. +</p> + +<p> +“And one thing I will rede* thee also,<br/> +Believe thou not the cuckoo, the love’s foe,<br/> +For all that he hath said is strong leasing.”* *falsehood<br/> +“Nay,” quoth I, “thereto shall nothing me bring<br/> +For love, and it hath done me much woe.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yea? Use,” quoth she, “this medicine,<br/> +Every day this May ere thou dine:<br/> +Go look upon the fresh daisy,<br/> +And, though thou be for woe in point to die,<br/> +That shall full greatly less thee of thy pine.* *sorrow +</p> + +<p> +“And look alway that thou be good and true,<br/> +And I will sing one of my songes new<br/> +For love of thee, as loud as I may cry:”<br/> +And then she began this song full high:<br/> +“I shrew* all them that be of love untrue.” *curse +</p> + +<p> +And when she had sung it to the end,<br/> +“Now farewell,” quoth she, “for I must wend,* *go<br/> + And, God of Love, that can right well and may,<br/> +As much joy sende thee this day,<br/> +As any lover yet he ever send!” +</p> + +<p> +Thus took the nightingale her leave of me.<br/> +I pray to God alway with her be,<br/> +And joy of love he send her evermore,<br/> +And shield us from the cuckoo and his lore;<br/> +For there is not so false a bird as he. +</p> + +<p> +Forth she flew, the gentle nightingale,<br/> +To all the birdes that were in that dale,<br/> +And got them all into a place in fere,* *together<br/> +And besought them that they would hear<br/> +Her disease,* and thus began her tale. *distress, grievance +</p> + +<p> +“Ye witte* well, it is not for to hide, *know<br/> +How the cuckoo and I fast have chide,* *quarrelled<br/> +Ever since that it was daylight;<br/> +I pray you all that ye do me right<br/> +On that foul false unkind bride.”* *bird +</p> + +<p> +Then spake one bird for all, by one assent:<br/> +“This matter asketh good advisement;<br/> +For we be fewe birdes here in fere,<br/> +And sooth it is, the cuckoo is not here,<br/> +And therefore we will have a parlement. +</p> + +<p> +“And thereat shall the eagle be our lord,<br/> +And other peers that been *of record,* *of established authority*<br/> +And the cuckoo shall be *after sent;* *summoned<br/> +There shall be given the judgment,<br/> +Or else we shall finally *make accord.* *be reconciled* +</p> + +<p> +“And this shall be, withoute nay,* *contradiction<br/> +The morrow after Saint Valentine’s Day,<br/> +Under a maple that is fair and green,<br/> +Before the chamber window of the Queen, <7><br/> +At Woodstock upon the green lay.”* *lawn +</p> + +<p> +She thanked them, and then her leave took,<br/> +And into a hawthorn by that brook,<br/> +And there she sat and sang upon that tree,<br/> +*“Term of life love hath withhold me;”* *love hath me in her<br/> +So loude, that I with that song awoke. service all my life* +</p> + +<p> +Explicit.* *The End +</p> + +<p> +The Author to His Book. +</p> + +<p> +O LEWD book! with thy foul rudeness,<br/> +Since thou hast neither beauty nor eloquence,<br/> +Who hath thee caus’d or giv’n the hardiness<br/> +For to appear in my lady’s presence?<br/> +I am full sicker* thou know’st her benevolence, *certain<br/> +Full agreeable to all her abying,* *merit<br/> +For of all good she is the best living. +</p> + +<p> +Alas! that thou ne haddest worthiness,<br/> +To show to her some pleasant sentence,<br/> +Since that she hath, thorough her gentleness,<br/> +Accepted thee servant to her dign reverence!<br/> +O! me repenteth that I n’had science,<br/> +And leisure als’, t’make thee more flourishing,<br/> +For of all good she is the best living. +</p> + +<p> +Beseech her meekly with all lowliness,<br/> +Though I be ferre* from her in absence, *far<br/> +To think on my truth to her and steadfastness,<br/> +And to abridge of my sorrows the violence,<br/> +Which caused is whereof knoweth your sapience;* *wisdom<br/> +She like among to notify me her liking,<br/> +For of all good she is the best living. +</p> + +<p> +Explicit. +</p> + +<p> +L’Envoy; To the Author’s Lady. +</p> + +<p> +Aurore of gladness, day of lustiness,<br/> +Lucern* at night with heav’nly influence *lamp<br/> +Illumin’d, root of beauty and goodness,<br/> +Suspires* which I effund** in silence! *sighs **pour forth<br/> +Of grace I beseech, allege* let your writing *declare<br/> +Now of all good, since ye be best living. +</p> + +<p> +Explicit. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Cuckoo and the Nightingale +</p> + +<p> +1. These two lines occur also in The Knight’s Tale; they +commence the speech of Theseus on the love follies of Palamon +and Arcite, whom the Duke has just found fighting in the forest. +</p> + +<p> +2. A stronger reading is “all.” +</p> + +<p> +3. “Ocy, ocy,” is supposed to come from the Latin “occidere,” +to kill; or rather the old French, “occire,” “occis,” denoting the +doom which the nightingale imprecates or supplicates on all +who do offence to Love. +</p> + +<p> +4. Grede: cry; Italian, “grido.” +</p> + +<p> +5.”But if he be away therewith, y-wis, +He may full soon of age have his hair”: +Unless he be always fortunate in love pursuits, he may full soon +have gray hair, through his anxieties. +</p> + +<p> +6. It was of evil omen to hear the cuckoo before the nightingale +or any other bird. +</p> + +<p> +7. The Queen: Philippa of Hainault, wife of Edward III. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap32"></a>THE ASSEMBLY OF FOWLS.</h2> + +<p> +[In “The Assembly of Fowls” — which Chaucer’s “Retractation” +describes as “The Book of Saint Valentine’s Day, or of the +Parliament of Birds” — we are presented with a picture of the +mediaeval “Court of Love” far closer to the reality than we find +in Chaucer’s poem which bears that express title. We have a +regularly constituted conclave or tribunal, under a president +whose decisions are final. A difficult question is proposed for +the consideration and judgment of the Court — the disputants +advancing and vindicating their claims in person. The attendants +upon the Court, through specially chosen mouthpieces, deliver +their opinions on the cause; and finally a decision is +authoritatively pronounced by the president — which, as in +many of the cases actually judged before the Courts of Love in +France, places the reasonable and modest wish of a sensitive +and chaste lady above all the eagerness of her lovers, all the +incongruous counsels of representative courtiers. So far, +therefore, as the poem reproduces the characteristic features of +procedure in those romantic Middle Age halls of amatory +justice, Chaucer’s “Assembly of Fowls” is his real “Court of +Love;” for although, in the castle and among the courtiers of +Admetus and Alcestis, we have all the personages and +machinery necessary for one of those erotic contentions, in the +present poem we see the personages and the machinery actually +at work, upon another scene and under other guises. The +allegory which makes the contention arise out of the loves, and +proceed in the assembly, of the feathered race, is quite in +keeping with the fanciful yet nature-loving spirit of the poetry +of Chaucer’s time, in which the influence of the Troubadours +was still largely present. It is quite in keeping, also, with the +principles that regulated the Courts, the purpose of which was +more to discuss and determine the proper conduct of love +affairs, than to secure conviction or acquittal, sanction or +reprobation, in particular cases — though the jurisdiction and +the judgments of such assemblies often closely concerned +individuals. Chaucer introduces us to his main theme through +the vestibule of a fancied dream — a method which be +repeatedly employs with great relish, as for instance in “The +House of Fame.” He has spent the whole day over Cicero’s +account of the Dream of Scipio (Africanus the Younger); and, +having gone to bed, he dreams that Africanus the Elder appears +to him — just as in the book he appeared to his namesake — and +carries him into a beautiful park, in which is a fair garden by a +river-side. Here the poet is led into a splendid temple, through a +crowd of courtiers allegorically representing the various +instruments, pleasures, emotions, and encouragements of Love; +and in the temple Venus herself is found, sporting with her +porter Richess. Returning into the garden, he sees the Goddess +of Nature seated on a hill of flowers; and before her are +assembled all the birds — for it is Saint Valentine’s Day, when +every fowl chooses her mate. Having with a graphic touch +enumerated and described the principal birds, the poet sees that +on her hand Nature bears a female eagle of surpassing loveliness +and virtue, for which three male eagles advance contending +claims. The disputation lasts all day; and at evening the +assembled birds, eager to be gone with their mates, clamour for +a decision. The tercelet, the goose, the cuckoo, and the turtle — +for birds of prey, water-fowl, worm-fowl, and seed-fowl +respectively — pronounce their verdicts on the dispute, in +speeches full of character and humour; but Nature refers the +decision between the three claimants to the female eagle herself, +who prays that she may have a year’s respite. Nature grants the +prayer, pronounces judgment accordingly, and dismisses the +assembly; and after a chosen choir has sung a roundel in honour +of the Goddess, all the birds fly away, and the poet awakes. It is +probable that Chaucer derived the idea of the poem from a +French source; Mr Bell gives the outline of a fabliau, of which +three versions existed, and in which a contention between two +ladies regarding the merits of their respective lovers, a knight +and a clerk, is decided by Cupid in a Court composed of birds, +which assume their sides according to their different natures. +Whatever the source of the idea, its management, and the whole +workmanship of the poem, especially in the more humorous +passages, are essentially Chaucer’s own.] +</p> + +<p> +THE life so short, the craft so long to learn,<br/> +Th’assay so hard, so sharp the conquering,<br/> +The dreadful joy, alway that *flits so yern;* *fleets so fast*<br/> +All this mean I by* Love, that my feeling *with reference to<br/> +Astoneth* with his wonderful working, *amazes<br/> +So sore, y-wis, that, when I on him think,<br/> +Naught wit I well whether I fleet* or sink, *float +</p> + +<p> +For *all be* that I know not Love indeed, *albeit, although*<br/> +Nor wot how that he *quiteth folk their hire,* *rewards folk for<br/> +Yet happeth me full oft in books to read their service*<br/> +Of his miracles, and of his cruel ire;<br/> +There read I well, he will be lord and sire;<br/> +I dare not saye, that his strokes be sore;<br/> +But God save such a lord! I can no more. +</p> + +<p> +Of usage, what for lust and what for lore,<br/> +On bookes read I oft, as I you told.<br/> +But wherefore speak I alle this? Not yore<br/> +Agone, it happed me for to behold<br/> +Upon a book written with letters old;<br/> +And thereupon, a certain thing to learn,<br/> +The longe day full fast I read and yern.* *eagerly +</p> + +<p> +For out of the old fieldes, as men saith,<br/> +Cometh all this new corn, from year to year;<br/> +And out of olde bookes, in good faith,<br/> +Cometh all this new science that men lear.* *learn<br/> +But now to purpose as of this mattere:<br/> +To reade forth it gan me so delight,<br/> +That all the day me thought it but a lite.* *little while +</p> + +<p> +This book, of which I make mention,<br/> +Entitled was right thus, as I shall tell;<br/> +“Tullius, of the Dream of Scipion:” <1><br/> +Chapters seven it had, of heav’n, and hell,<br/> +And earth, and soules that therein do dwell;<br/> +Of which, as shortly as I can it treat,<br/> +Of his sentence I will you say the great.* *important part +</p> + +<p> +First telleth it, when Scipio was come<br/> +To Africa, how he met Massinisse,<br/> +That him for joy in armes hath y-nome.* *taken <2><br/> +Then telleth he their speech, and all the bliss<br/> +That was between them till the day gan miss.* *fail<br/> +And how his ancestor Africane so dear<br/> +Gan in his sleep that night to him appear. +</p> + +<p> +Then telleth it, that from a starry place<br/> +How Africane hath him Carthage y-shew’d,<br/> +And warned him before of all his grace, <3><br/> +And said him, what man, learned either lewd,* *ignorant<br/> +That loveth *common profit,* well y-thew’d, *the public advantage*<br/> +He should unto a blissful place wend,* *go<br/> +Where as the joy is without any end. +</p> + +<p> +Then asked he,* if folk that here be dead *i.e. the younger Scipio<br/> +Have life, and dwelling, in another place?<br/> +And Africane said, “Yea, withoute dread;”* *doubt<br/> +And how our present worldly lives’ space<br/> +Meant but a manner death, <4> what way we trace;<br/> +And rightful folk should go, after they die,<br/> +To Heav’n; and showed him the galaxy. +</p> + +<p> +Then show’d he him the little earth that here is,<br/> +*To regard* the heaven’s quantity; *by comparison with<br/> +And after show’d he him the nine spheres; <5><br/> +And after that the melody heard he,<br/> +That cometh of those spheres thrice three,<br/> +That wells of music be and melody<br/> +In this world here, and cause of harmony. +</p> + +<p> +Then said he him, since earthe was so lite,* *small<br/> +And full of torment and of *harde grace,* *evil fortune<br/> +That he should not him in this world delight.<br/> +Then told he him, in certain yeares’ space,<br/> +That ev’ry star should come into his place,<br/> +Where it was first; and all should *out of mind,* *perish from memory*<br/> +That in this world is done of all mankind. +</p> + +<p> +Then pray’d him Scipio, to tell him all<br/> +The way to come into that Heaven’s bliss;<br/> +And he said: “First know thyself immortal,<br/> +And look aye busily that thou work and wiss* *guide affairs<br/> +To common profit, and thou shalt not miss<br/> +To come swiftly unto that place dear,<br/> +That full of bliss is, and of soules clear.* *noble <6> +</p> + +<p> +“And breakers of the law, the sooth to sayn,<br/> +And likerous* folk, after that they be dead, *lecherous<br/> +Shall whirl about the world always in pain,<br/> +Till many a world be passed, *out of dread;* *without doubt*<br/> +And then, forgiven all their wicked deed,<br/> +They shalle come unto that blissful place,<br/> +To which to come God thee sende grace!” +</p> + +<p> +The day gan failen, and the darke night,<br/> +That reaveth* beastes from their business, *taketh away<br/> +Berefte me my book for lack of light,<br/> +And to my bed I gan me for to dress,* *prepare<br/> +Full fill’d of thought and busy heaviness;<br/> +For both I hadde thing which that I n’old,* *would not<br/> +And eke I had not that thing that I wo’ld. +</p> + +<p> +But, finally, my spirit at the last,<br/> +Forweary* of my labour all that day, *utterly wearied<br/> +Took rest, that made me to sleepe fast;<br/> +And in my sleep I mette,* as that I say, *dreamed<br/> +How Africane, right in the *self array* *same garb*<br/> +That Scipio him saw before that tide,* *time<br/> +Was come, and stood right at my bedde’s side. +</p> + +<p> +The weary hunter, sleeping in his bed,<br/> +To wood again his mind goeth anon;<br/> +The judge dreameth how his pleas be sped;<br/> +The carter dreameth how his cartes go’n;<br/> +The rich of gold, the knight fights with his fone;* *foes<br/> +The sicke mette he drinketh of the tun; <7><br/> +The lover mette he hath his lady won. +</p> + +<p> +I cannot say, if that the cause were,<br/> +For* I had read of Africane beforn, *because<br/> +That made me to mette that he stood there;<br/> +But thus said he; “Thou hast thee so well borne<br/> +In looking of mine old book all to-torn,<br/> +Of which Macrobius *raught not a lite,* *recked not a little*<br/> +That *somedeal of thy labour would I quite.”* *I would reward you for<br/> + some of your labour*<br/> +Cytherea, thou blissful Lady sweet!<br/> +That with thy firebrand dauntest *when thee lest,* *when you please*<br/> +That madest me this sweven* for to mette, *dream<br/> +Be thou my help in this, for thou may’st best!<br/> +As wisly* as I saw the north-north-west, <8> *surely<br/> +When I began my sweven for to write,<br/> +So give me might to rhyme it and endite.* *write down +</p> + +<p> +This foresaid Africane me hent* anon, *took<br/> +And forth with him unto a gate brought<br/> +Right of a park, walled with greene stone;<br/> +And o’er the gate, with letters large y-wrought,<br/> +There were verses written, as me thought,<br/> +On either half, of full great difference,<br/> +Of which I shall you say the plain sentence.* *meaning +</p> + +<p> +“Through me men go into the blissful place <9><br/> +Of hearte’s heal and deadly woundes’ cure;<br/> +Through me men go unto the well of grace;<br/> +Where green and lusty May shall ever dure;<br/> +This is the way to all good adventure;<br/> +Be glad, thou reader, and thy sorrow off cast;<br/> +All open am I; pass in and speed thee fast.” +</p> + +<p> +“Through me men go,” thus spake the other side,<br/> +“Unto the mortal strokes of the spear,<br/> +Of which disdain and danger is the guide;<br/> +There never tree shall fruit nor leaves bear;<br/> +This stream you leadeth to the sorrowful weir,<br/> +Where as the fish in prison is all dry; <10><br/> +Th’eschewing is the only remedy.” +</p> + +<p> +These verses of gold and azure written were,<br/> +On which I gan astonish’d to behold;<br/> +For with that one increased all my fear,<br/> +And with that other gan my heart to bold;* *take courage<br/> +That one me het,* that other did me cold; *heated<br/> +No wit had I, for error,* for to choose *perplexity, confusion<br/> +To enter or fly, or me to save or lose. +</p> + +<p> +Right as betwixten adamantes* two *magnets<br/> +Of even weight, a piece of iron set,<br/> +Ne hath no might to move to nor fro;<br/> +For what the one may hale,* the other let;** *attract **restrain<br/> +So far’d I, that *n’ist whether me was bet* *knew not whether it was<br/> +T’ enter or leave, till Africane, my guide, better for me*<br/> +Me hent* and shov’d in at the gates wide. *caught +</p> + +<p> +And said, “It standeth written in thy face,<br/> +Thine error,* though thou tell it not to me; *perplexity, confusion<br/> +But dread thou not to come into this place;<br/> +For this writing *is nothing meant by* thee, *does not refer to*<br/> +Nor by none, but* he Love’s servant be; *unless<br/> +For thou of Love hast lost thy taste, I guess,<br/> +As sick man hath of sweet and bitterness. +</p> + +<p> +“But natheless, although that thou be dull,<br/> +That thou canst not do, yet thou mayest see;<br/> +For many a man that may not stand a pull,<br/> +Yet likes it him at wrestling for to be,<br/> +And deeme* whether he doth bet,** or he; *judge **better<br/> +And, if thou haddest cunning* to endite, *skill<br/> +I shall thee showe matter *of to write.”* *to write about* +</p> + +<p> +With that my hand in his he took anon,<br/> +Of which I comfort caught,* and went in fast. *took<br/> +But, Lord! so I was glad and well-begone!* *fortunate<br/> +For *over all,* where I my eyen cast, *everywhere*<br/> +Were trees y-clad with leaves that ay shall last,<br/> +Each in his kind, with colour fresh and green<br/> +As emerald, that joy it was to see’n. +</p> + +<p> +The builder oak; and eke the hardy ash;<br/> +The pillar elm, the coffer unto carrain;<br/> +The box, pipe tree; the holm, to whippe’s lash<br/> +The sailing fir; the cypress death to plain;<br/> +The shooter yew; the aspe for shaftes plain;<br/> +Th’olive of peace, and eke the drunken vine;<br/> +The victor palm; the laurel, too, divine. <11> +</p> + +<p> +A garden saw I, full of blossom’d boughes,<br/> +Upon a river, in a greene mead,<br/> +Where as sweetness evermore enow is,<br/> +With flowers white, blue, yellow, and red,<br/> +And colde welle* streames, nothing dead, *fountain<br/> +That swamme full of smalle fishes light,<br/> +With finnes red, and scales silver bright. +</p> + +<p> +On ev’ry bough the birdes heard I sing,<br/> +With voice of angels in their harmony,<br/> +That busied them their birdes forth to bring;<br/> +The pretty conies* to their play gan hie; *rabbits **haste<br/> +And further all about I gan espy<br/> +The dreadful* roe, the buck, the hart, and hind, *timid<br/> +Squirrels, and beastes small, of gentle kind.* *nature +</p> + +<p> +Of instruments of stringes in accord<br/> +Heard I so play a ravishing sweetness,<br/> +That God, that Maker is of all and Lord,<br/> +Ne hearde never better, as I guess:<br/> +Therewith a wind, unneth* it might be less, *scarcely<br/> +Made in the leaves green a noise soft,<br/> +Accordant* the fowles’ song on loft.** *in keeping with **above +</p> + +<p> +Th’air of the place so attemper* was, *mild<br/> +That ne’er was there grievance* of hot nor cold; *annoyance<br/> +There was eke ev’ry wholesome spice and grass,<br/> +Nor no man may there waxe sick nor old:<br/> +Yet* was there more joy a thousand fold *moreover<br/> +Than I can tell, or ever could or might;<br/> +There ever is clear day, and never night. +</p> + +<p> +Under a tree, beside a well, I sey* *saw<br/> +Cupid our lord his arrows forge and file;* *polish<br/> +And at his feet his bow all ready lay;<br/> +And well his daughter temper’d, all the while,<br/> +The heades in the well; and with her wile* *cleverness<br/> +She couch’d* them after, as they shoulde serve *arranged in order<br/> +Some for to slay, and some to wound and kerve.* *carve, cut +</p> + +<p> +Then was I ware of Pleasance anon right,<br/> +And of Array, and Lust, and Courtesy,<br/> +And of the Craft, that can and hath the might<br/> +To do* by force a wight to do folly; *make<br/> +Disfigured* was she, I will not lie; *disguised<br/> +And by himself, under an oak, I guess,<br/> +Saw I Delight, that stood with Gentleness. +</p> + +<p> +Then saw I Beauty, with a nice attire,<br/> +And Youthe, full of game and jollity,<br/> +Foolhardiness, Flattery, and Desire,<br/> +Messagerie, and Meed, and other three; <12><br/> +Their names shall not here be told for me:<br/> +And upon pillars great of jasper long<br/> +I saw a temple of brass y-founded strong. +</p> + +<p> +And [all] about the temple danc’d alway<br/> +Women enough, of whiche some there were<br/> +Fair of themselves, and some of them were gay<br/> +In kirtles* all dishevell’d went they there; *tunics<br/> +That was their office* ever, from year to year; *duty, occupation<br/> +And on the temple saw I, white and fair,<br/> +Of doves sitting many a thousand pair. <13> +</p> + +<p> +Before the temple door, full soberly,<br/> +Dame Peace sat, a curtain in her hand;<br/> +And her beside, wonder discreetely,<br/> +Dame Patience sitting there I fand,* *found<br/> +With face pale, upon a hill of sand;<br/> +And althernext, within and eke without,<br/> +Behest,* and Art, and of their folk a rout.** *Promise **crowd +</p> + +<p> +Within the temple, of sighes hot as fire<br/> +I heard a swough,* that gan aboute ren,** *murmur **run<br/> +Which sighes were engender’d with desire,<br/> +That made every hearte for to bren* *burn<br/> +Of newe flame; and well espied I then,<br/> +That all the cause of sorrows that they dree* *endure<br/> +Came of the bitter goddess Jealousy. +</p> + +<p> +The God Priapus <14> saw I, as I went<br/> +Within the temple, in sov’reign place stand,<br/> +In such array, as when the ass him shent* <15> *ruined<br/> +With cry by night, and with sceptre in hand:<br/> +Full busily men gan assay and fand* *endeavour<br/> +Upon his head to set, of sundry hue,<br/> +Garlandes full of freshe flowers new. +</p> + +<p> +And in a privy corner, in disport,<br/> +Found I Venus and her porter Richess,<br/> +That was full noble and hautain* of her port; *haughty <16><br/> +Dark was that place, but afterward lightness<br/> +I saw a little, unneth* it might be less; *scarcely<br/> +And on a bed of gold she lay to rest,<br/> +Till that the hote sun began to west.* *decline towards the wesr +</p> + +<p> +Her gilded haires with a golden thread<br/> +Y-bounden were, untressed,* as she lay; *loose<br/> +And naked from the breast unto the head<br/> +Men might her see; and, soothly for to say,<br/> +The remnant cover’d, welle to my pay,* *satisfaction <17><br/> +Right with a little kerchief of Valence;<18><br/> +There was no thicker clothe of defence. +</p> + +<p> +The place gave a thousand savours swoot;* *sweet<br/> +And Bacchus, god of wine, sat her beside;<br/> +And Ceres next, that *doth of hunger boot;*<19> *relieves hunger*<br/> +And, as I said, amiddes* lay Cypride, <20> *in the midst<br/> +To whom on knees the younge folke cried<br/> +To be their help: but thus I let her lie,<br/> +And farther in the temple gan espy, +</p> + +<p> +<See note 21 for the stories of the lovers in +the next two stanzas> +</p> + +<p> +That, in despite of Diana the chaste,<br/> +Full many a bowe broke hung on the wall,<br/> +Of maidens, such as go their time to waste<br/> +In her service: and painted over all<br/> +Of many a story, of which I touche shall<br/> +A few, as of Calist’, and Atalant’,<br/> +And many a maid, of which the name I want.* *do not have +</p> + +<p> +Semiramis, Canace, and Hercules,<br/> +Biblis, Dido, Thisbe and Pyramus,<br/> +Tristram, Isoude, Paris, and Achilles,<br/> +Helena, Cleopatra, Troilus,<br/> +Scylla, and eke the mother of Romulus;<br/> +All these were painted on the other side,<br/> +And all their love, and in what plight they died. +</p> + +<p> +When I was come again into the place<br/> +That I of spake, that was so sweet and green,<br/> +Forth walk’d I then, myselfe to solace:<br/> +Then was I ware where there sat a queen,<br/> +That, as of light the summer Sunne sheen<br/> +Passeth the star, right so *over measure* *out of all proportion*<br/> +She fairer was than any creature. +</p> + +<p> +And in a lawn, upon a hill of flowers,<br/> +Was set this noble goddess of Nature;<br/> +Of branches were her halles and her bowers<br/> +Y-wrought, after her craft and her measure;<br/> +Nor was there fowl that comes of engendrure<br/> +That there ne were prest,* in her presence, *ready <22><br/> +To *take her doom,* and give her audience. *receive her decision* +</p> + +<p> +For this was on Saint Valentine’s Day,<br/> +When ev’ry fowl cometh to choose her make,* *mate<br/> +Of every kind that men thinken may;<br/> +And then so huge a noise gan they make,<br/> +That earth, and sea, and tree, and ev’ry lake,<br/> +So full was, that unnethes* there was space *scarcely<br/> +For me to stand, so full was all the place. +</p> + +<p> +And right as Alain, in his Plaint of Kind, <23><br/> +Deviseth* Nature of such array and face; *describeth<br/> +In such array men mighte her there find.<br/> +This noble Emperess, full of all grace,<br/> +Bade ev’ry fowle take her owen place,<br/> +As they were wont alway, from year to year,<br/> +On Saint Valentine’s Day to stande there. +</p> + +<p> +That is to say, the *fowles of ravine* *birds of prey*<br/> +Were highest set, and then the fowles smale,<br/> +That eaten as them Nature would incline;<br/> +As worme-fowl, of which I tell no tale;<br/> +But waterfowl sat lowest in the dale,<br/> +And fowls that live by seed sat on the green,<br/> +And that so many, that wonder was to see’n. +</p> + +<p> +There mighte men the royal eagle find,<br/> +That with his sharpe look pierceth the Sun;<br/> +And other eagles of a lower kind,<br/> +Of which that *clerkes well devise con;* *which scholars well<br/> +There was the tyrant with his feathers dun can describe*<br/> +And green, I mean the goshawk, that doth pine* *cause pain<br/> +To birds, for his outrageous ravine.* *slaying, hunting +</p> + +<p> +The gentle falcon, that with his feet distraineth* *grasps<br/> +The kinge’s hand; <24> the hardy* sperhawk eke, *pert<br/> +The quaile’s foe; the merlion <25> that paineth<br/> +Himself full oft the larke for to seek;<br/> +There was the dove, with her eyen meek;<br/> +The jealous swan, against* his death that singeth; *in anticipation of<br/> +The owl eke, that of death the bode* bringeth. *omen +</p> + +<p> +The crane, the giant, with his trumpet soun’;<br/> +The thief the chough; and eke the chatt’ring pie;<br/> +The scorning jay; <26> the eel’s foe the heroun;<br/> +The false lapwing, full of treachery; <27><br/> +The starling, that the counsel can betray;<br/> +The tame ruddock,* and the coward kite; *robin-redbreast<br/> +The cock, that horologe* is of *thorpes lite.* *clock *little villages* +</p> + +<p> +The sparrow, Venus’ son; <28> the nightingale,<br/> +That calleth forth the freshe leaves new; <29><br/> +The swallow, murd’rer of the bees smale,<br/> +That honey make of flowers fresh of hue;<br/> +The wedded turtle, with his hearte true;<br/> +The peacock, with his angel feathers bright; <30><br/> +The pheasant, scorner of the cock by night; <31> +</p> + +<p> +The waker goose; <32> the cuckoo ever unkind; <33><br/> +The popinjay,* full of delicacy; *parrot<br/> +The drake, destroyer of his owen kind; <34><br/> +The stork, the wreaker* of adultery; <35> *avenger<br/> +The hot cormorant, full of gluttony; <36><br/> +The raven and the crow, with voice of care; <37><br/> +The throstle old;* and the frosty fieldfare.<38> *long-lived +</p> + +<p> +What should I say? Of fowls of ev’ry kind<br/> +That in this world have feathers and stature,<br/> +Men mighten in that place assembled find,<br/> +Before that noble goddess of Nature;<br/> +And each of them did all his busy cure* *care, pains<br/> +Benignely to choose, or for to take,<br/> +By her accord,* his formel <39> or his make.** *consent **mate +</p> + +<p> +But to the point. Nature held on her hand<br/> +A formel eagle, of shape the gentilest<br/> +That ever she among her workes fand,<br/> +The most benign, and eke the goodliest;<br/> +In her was ev’ry virtue at its rest,* *highest point<br/> +So farforth that Nature herself had bliss<br/> +To look on her, and oft her beak to kiss. +</p> + +<p> +Nature, the vicar of th’Almighty Lord, —<br/> +That hot, cold, heavy, light, and moist, and dry,<br/> +Hath knit, by even number of accord, —<br/> +In easy voice began to speak, and say:<br/> +“Fowles, take heed of my sentence,”* I pray; *opinion, discourse<br/> +And for your ease, in furth’ring of your need,<br/> +As far as I may speak, I will me speed. +</p> + +<p> +“Ye know well how, on Saint Valentine’s Day,<br/> +By my statute, and through my governance,<br/> +Ye choose your mates, and after fly away<br/> +With them, as I you *pricke with pleasance;* *inspire with pleasure*<br/> +But natheless, as by rightful ordinance,<br/> +May I not let,* for all this world to win, *hinder<br/> +But he that most is worthy shall begin. +</p> + +<p> +“The tercel eagle, as ye know full weel,* *well<br/> +The fowl royal, above you all in degree,<br/> +The wise and worthy, secret, true as steel,<br/> +The which I formed have, as ye may see,<br/> +In ev’ry part, as it best liketh me, —<br/> +It needeth not his shape you to devise,* — *describe<br/> +He shall first choose, and speaken *in his guise.* *in his own way* +</p> + +<p> +“And, after him, by order shall ye choose,<br/> +After your kind, evereach as you liketh;<br/> +And as your hap* is, shall ye win or lose; *fortune<br/> +But which of you that love most entriketh,* *entangles <40><br/> +God send him her that sorest for him siketh.”* *sigheth<br/> +And therewithal the tercel gan she call,<br/> +And said, “My son, the choice is to thee fall. +</p> + +<p> +“But natheless, in this condition<br/> +Must be the choice of ev’reach that is here,<br/> +That she agree to his election,<br/> +Whoso he be, that shoulde be her fere;* *companion<br/> +This is our usage ay, from year to year;<br/> +And whoso may at this time have this grace,<br/> +*In blissful time* he came into this place.” *in a happy hour*<br/> +With head inclin’d, and with full humble cheer,* *demeanour +</p> + +<p> +This royal tercel spake, and tarried not:<br/> +“Unto my sov’reign lady, and not my fere,* *companion<br/> +I chose and choose, with will, and heart, and thought,<br/> +The formel on your hand, so well y-wrought,<br/> +Whose I am all, and ever will her serve,<br/> +Do what her list, to do me live or sterve.* *die +</p> + +<p> +“Beseeching her of mercy and of grace,<br/> +As she that is my lady sovereign,<br/> +Or let me die here present in this place,<br/> +For certes long may I not live in pain;<br/> +*For in my heart is carven ev’ry vein:* *every vein in my heart is<br/> +Having regard only unto my truth, wounded with love*<br/> +My deare heart, have on my woe some ruth.* *pity +</p> + +<p> +“And if that I be found to her untrue,<br/> +Disobeisant,* or wilful negligent, *disobedient<br/> +Avaunter,* or *in process* love a new, *braggart *in the course<br/> +I pray to you, this be my judgement, of time*<br/> +That with these fowles I be all to-rent,* *torn to pieces<br/> +That ilke* day that she me ever find *same<br/> +To her untrue, or in my guilt unkind. +</p> + +<p> +“And since none loveth her so well as I,<br/> +Although she never of love me behet,* *promised<br/> +Then ought she to be mine, through her mercy;<br/> +For *other bond can I none on her knit;* *I can bind her no other way*<br/> +For weal or for woe, never shall I let* *cease, fail<br/> +To serve her, how far so that she wend;* *go<br/> +Say what you list, my tale is at an end.” +</p> + +<p> +Right as the freshe redde rose new<br/> +Against the summer Sunne colour’d is,<br/> +Right so, for shame, all waxen gan the hue<br/> +Of this formel, when she had heard all this;<br/> +*Neither she answer’d well, nor said amiss,* *she answered nothing,<br/> +So sore abashed was she, till Nature either well or ill*<br/> +Said, “Daughter, dread you not, I you assure.”* *confirm, support +</p> + +<p> +Another tercel eagle spake anon,<br/> +Of lower kind, and said that should not be;<br/> +“I love her better than ye do, by Saint John!<br/> +Or at the least I love her as well as ye,<br/> +And longer have her serv’d in my degree;<br/> +And if she should have lov’d for long loving,<br/> +To me alone had been the guerdoning.* *reward +</p> + +<p> +“I dare eke say, if she me finde false,<br/> +Unkind, janglere,* rebel in any wise, *boastful<br/> +Or jealous, *do me hange by the halse;* *hang me by the neck*<br/> +And but* I beare me in her service *unless<br/> +As well ay as my wit can me suffice,<br/> +From point to point, her honour for to save,<br/> +Take she my life and all the good I have.” +</p> + +<p> +A thirde tercel eagle answer’d tho:* *then<br/> +“Now, Sirs, ye see the little leisure here;<br/> +For ev’ry fowl cries out to be ago<br/> +Forth with his mate, or with his lady dear;<br/> +And eke Nature herselfe will not hear,<br/> +For tarrying her, not half that I would say;<br/> +And but* I speak, I must for sorrow dey.** *unless **die +</p> + +<p> +Of long service avaunt* I me no thing, *boast<br/> +But as possible is me to die to-day,<br/> +For woe, as he that hath been languishing<br/> +This twenty winter; and well happen may<br/> +A man may serve better, and *more to pay,* *with more satisfaction*<br/> +In half a year, although it were no more.<br/> +Than some man doth that served hath *full yore.* *for a long time* +</p> + +<p> +“I say not this by me for that I can<br/> +Do no service that may my lady please;<br/> +But I dare say, I am her truest man,* *liegeman, servant<br/> +*As to my doom,* and fainest would her please; *in my judgement<br/> +*At shorte words,* until that death me seize, *in one word*<br/> +I will be hers, whether I wake or wink.<br/> +And true in all that hearte may bethink.” +</p> + +<p> +Of all my life, since that day I was born,<br/> +*So gentle plea,* in love or other thing, *such noble pleading*<br/> +Ye hearde never no man me beforn;<br/> +Whoso that hadde leisure and cunning* *skill<br/> +For to rehearse their cheer and their speaking:<br/> +And from the morrow gan these speeches last,<br/> +Till downward went the Sunne wonder fast. +</p> + +<p> +The noise of fowles for to be deliver’d* *set free to depart<br/> +So loude rang, “Have done and let us wend,”* *go<br/> +That well ween’d I the wood had all to-shiver’d:* *been shaken to<br/> +“Come off!” they cried; “alas! ye will us shend!* pieces* *ruin<br/> +When will your cursed pleading have an end?<br/> +How should a judge either party believe,<br/> +For yea or nay, withouten any preve?”* *proof +</p> + +<p> +The goose, the duck, and the cuckoo also,<br/> +So cried “keke, keke,” “cuckoo,” “queke queke,” high,<br/> +That through mine ears the noise wente tho.* *then<br/> +The goose said then, “All this n’is worth a fly!<br/> +But I can shape hereof a remedy;<br/> +And I will say my verdict, fair and swith,* *speedily<br/> +For water-fowl, whoso be wroth or blith.”* *glad +</p> + +<p> +“And I for worm-fowl,” said the fool cuckow;<br/> +For I will, of mine own authority,<br/> +For common speed,* take on me the charge now; *advantage<br/> +For to deliver us is great charity.”<br/> +“Ye may abide a while yet, pardie,”* *by God<br/> +Quoth then the turtle; “if it be your will<br/> +A wight may speak, it were as good be still. +</p> + +<p> +“I am a seed-fowl, one th’unworthiest,<br/> +That know I well, and the least of cunning;<br/> +But better is, that a wight’s tongue rest,<br/> +Than *entremette him of* such doing *meddle with* <41><br/> +Of which he neither rede* can nor sing; *counsel<br/> +And who it doth, full foul himself accloyeth,* *embarrasseth<br/> +For office uncommanded oft annoyeth.” +</p> + +<p> +Nature, which that alway had an ear<br/> +To murmur of the lewedness behind,<br/> +With facond* voice said, “Hold your tongues there, *eloquent, fluent<br/> +And I shall soon, I hope, a counsel find,<br/> +You to deliver, and from this noise unbind;<br/> +I charge of ev’ry flock* ye shall one call, *class of fowl<br/> +To say the verdict of you fowles all.” +</p> + +<p> +The tercelet* said then in this mannere; *male hawk<br/> +“Full hard it were to prove it by reason,<br/> +Who loveth best this gentle formel here;<br/> +For ev’reach hath such replication,* *reply<br/> +That by skilles* may none be brought adown; *arguments<br/> +I cannot see that arguments avail;<br/> +Then seemeth it that there must be battaile.” +</p> + +<p> +“All ready!” quoth those eagle tercels tho;* *then<br/> +“Nay, Sirs!” quoth he; “if that I durst it say,<br/> +Ye do me wrong, my tale is not y-do,* *done<br/> +For, Sirs, — and *take it not agrief,* I pray, — *be not offended*<br/> +It may not be as ye would, in this way:<br/> +Ours is the voice that have the charge in hand,<br/> +And *to the judges’ doom ye muste stand.* *ye must abide by the<br/> + judges’ decision*<br/> +“And therefore ‘Peace!’ I say; as to my wit,<br/> +Me woulde think, how that the worthiest<br/> +Of knighthood, and had longest used it,<br/> +Most of estate, of blood the gentilest,<br/> +Were fitting most for her, *if that her lest;* *if she pleased*<br/> +And, of these three she knows herself, I trow,* *am sure<br/> +Which that he be; for it is light* to know.” *easy +</p> + +<p> +The water-fowles have their heades laid<br/> +Together, and *of short advisement,* *after brief deliberation*<br/> +When evereach his verdict had y-said<br/> +They saide soothly all by one assent,<br/> +How that “The goose with the *facond gent,* *refined eloquence*<br/> +That so desired to pronounce our need,* business<br/> +Shall tell our tale;” and prayed God her speed. +</p> + +<p> +And for those water-fowles then began<br/> +The goose to speak. and in her cackeling<br/> +She saide, “Peace, now! take keep* ev’ry man, *heed<br/> +And hearken what reason I shall forth bring;<br/> +My wit is sharp, I love no tarrying;<br/> +I say I rede him, though he were my brother,<br/> +But* she will love him, let him love another!” *unless +</p> + +<p> +“Lo! here a perfect reason of a goose!”<br/> +Quoth the sperhawke. “Never may she the!* *thrive<br/> +Lo such a thing ’tis t’have a tongue loose!<br/> +Now, pardie: fool, yet were it bet* for thee *better<br/> +Have held thy peace, than show’d thy nicety;* *foolishness<br/> +It lies not in his wit, nor in his will,<br/> +But sooth is said, a fool cannot be still.” +</p> + +<p> +The laughter rose of gentle fowles all;<br/> +And right anon the seed-fowls chosen had<br/> +The turtle true, and gan her to them call,<br/> +And prayed her to say the *soothe sad* *serious truth*<br/> +Of this mattere, and asked what she rad;* *counselled<br/> +And she answer’d, that plainly her intent<br/> +She woulde show, and soothly what she meant. +</p> + +<p> +“Nay! God forbid a lover shoulde change!”<br/> +The turtle said, and wax’d for shame all red:<br/> +“Though that his lady evermore be strange,* *disdainful<br/> +Yet let him serve her ay, till he be dead;<br/> +For, sooth, I praise not the goose’s rede* *counsel<br/> +For, though she died, I would none other make;* *mate<br/> +I will be hers till that the death me take.” +</p> + +<p> +*“Well bourded!”* quoth the ducke, “by my hat! *a pretty joke!*<br/> +That men should loven alway causeless,<br/> +Who can a reason find, or wit, in that?<br/> +Danceth he merry, that is mirtheless?<br/> +Who shoulde *reck of that is reckeless?* *care for one who has<br/> +Yea! queke yet,” quoth the duck, “full well and fair! no care for him*<br/> +There be more starres, God wot, than a pair!” <42> +</p> + +<p> +“Now fy, churl!” quoth the gentle tercelet,<br/> +“Out of the dunghill came that word aright;<br/> +Thou canst not see which thing is well beset;<br/> +Thou far’st by love, as owles do by light,—<br/> +The day them blinds, full well they see by night;<br/> +Thy kind is of so low a wretchedness,<br/> +That what love is, thou caust not see nor guess.” +</p> + +<p> +Then gan the cuckoo put him forth in press,* *in the crowd<br/> +For fowl that eateth worm, and said belive:* *quickly<br/> +“So I,” quoth he, “may have my mate in peace,<br/> +I recke not how longe that they strive.<br/> +Let each of them be solain* all their life; *single <43><br/> +This is my rede,* since they may not accord; *counsel<br/> +This shorte lesson needeth not record.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yea, have the glutton fill’d enough his paunch,<br/> +Then are we well!” saide the emerlon;* *merlin<br/> +“Thou murd’rer of the heggsugg,* on the branch *hedge-sparrow<br/> +That brought thee forth, thou most rueful glutton, <44><br/> +Live thou solain, worme’s corruption!<br/> +*For no force is to lack of thy nature;* *the loss of a bird of your<br/> +Go! lewed be thou, while the world may dare!” depraved nature is no<br/> + matter of regret.*<br/> +“Now peace,” quoth Nature, “I commande here;<br/> +For I have heard all your opinion,<br/> +And in effect yet be we ne’er the nere.* *nearer<br/> +But, finally, this is my conclusion, —<br/> +That she herself shall have her election<br/> +Of whom her list, whoso be *wroth or blith;* *angry or glad*<br/> +Him that she chooseth, he shall her have as swith.* *quickly +</p> + +<p> +“For since it may not here discussed be<br/> +Who loves her best, as said the tercelet,<br/> +Then will I do this favour t’ her, that she<br/> +Shall have right him on whom her heart is set,<br/> +And he her, that his heart hath on her knit:<br/> +This judge I, Nature, for* I may not lie *because<br/> +To none estate; I *have none other eye.* *can see the matter in<br/> + no other light*<br/> +“But as for counsel for to choose a make,<br/> +If I were Reason, [certes] then would I<br/> +Counsaile you the royal tercel take,<br/> +As saith the tercelet full skilfully,* *reasonably<br/> +As for the gentilest, and most worthy,<br/> +Which I have wrought so well to my pleasance,<br/> +That to you it ought be *a suffisance.”* *to your satisfaction* +</p> + +<p> +With dreadful* voice the formel her answer’d: *frightened<br/> +“My rightful lady, goddess of Nature,<br/> +Sooth is, that I am ever under your yerd,* *rod, or government<br/> +As is every other creature,<br/> +And must be yours, while that my life may dure;<br/> +And therefore grante me my firste boon,* *favour<br/> +And mine intent you will I say right soon.” +</p> + +<p> +“I grant it you,” said she; and right anon<br/> +This formel eagle spake in this degree:* *manner<br/> +“Almighty queen, until this year be done<br/> +I aske respite to advise me;<br/> +And after that to have my choice all free;<br/> +This is all and some that I would speak and say;<br/> +Ye get no more, although ye *do me dey.* *slay me* +</p> + +<p> +“I will not serve Venus, nor Cupide,<br/> +For sooth as yet, by no manner [of] way.”<br/> +“Now since it may none other ways betide,”* *happen<br/> +Quoth Dame Nature, “there is no more to say;<br/> +Then would I that these fowles were away,<br/> +Each with his mate, for longer tarrying here.”<br/> +And said them thus, as ye shall after hear. +</p> + +<p> +“To you speak I, ye tercels,” quoth Nature;<br/> +“Be of good heart, and serve her alle three;<br/> +A year is not so longe to endure;<br/> +And each of you *pain him* in his degree *strive*<br/> +For to do well, for, God wot, quit is she<br/> +From you this year, what after so befall;<br/> +This *entremess is dressed* for you all.” *dish is prepared* +</p> + +<p> +And when this work y-brought was to an end,<br/> +To ev’ry fowle Nature gave his make,<br/> +By *even accord,* and on their way they wend: *fair agreement*<br/> +And, Lord! the bliss and joye that they make!<br/> +For each of them gan other in his wings take,<br/> +And with their neckes each gan other wind,* *enfold, caress<br/> +Thanking alway the noble goddess of Kind. +</p> + +<p> +But first were chosen fowles for to sing,—<br/> +As year by year was alway their usance,* — *custom<br/> +To sing a roundel at their departing,<br/> +To do to Nature honour and pleasance;<br/> +The note, I trowe, maked was in France;<br/> +The wordes were such as ye may here find<br/> +The nexte verse, as I have now in mind: +</p> + +<p> +Qui bien aime, tard oublie. <45> +</p> + +<p> +“Now welcome summer, with thy sunnes soft,<br/> +That hast these winter weathers overshake * *dispersed, overcome<br/> +Saint Valentine, thou art full high on loft,<br/> +Which driv’st away the longe nightes blake;* *black<br/> +Thus singe smalle fowles for thy sake:<br/> +Well have they cause for to gladden* oft, *be glad, make mirth<br/> +Since each of them recover’d hath his make;* *mate<br/> +Full blissful may they sing when they awake.” +</p> + +<p> +And with the shouting, when their song was do,* *done<br/> +That the fowls maden at their flight away,<br/> +I woke, and other bookes took me to,<br/> +To read upon; and yet I read alway.<br/> +I hope, y-wis, to reade so some day,<br/> +That I shall meete something for to fare<br/> +The bet;* and thus to read I will not spare. *better +</p> + +<p> +Explicit.* *the end +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to The Assembly of Fowls +</p> + +<p> +1. “The Dream of Scipio” — “Somnium Scipionis” — occupies +most of the sixth book of Cicero’s “Republic;” which, indeed, as +it has come down to us, is otherwise imperfect. Scipio +Africanus Minor is represented as relating a dream which he had +when, in B.C. 149, he went to Africa as military tribune to the +fourth legion. He had talked long and earnestly of his adoptive +grandfather with Massinissa, King of Numidia, the intimate +friend of the great Scipio; and at night his illustrious ancestor +appeared to him in a vision, foretold the overthrow of Carthage +and all his other triumphs, exhorted him to virtue and patriotism +by the assurance of rewards in the next world, and discoursed +to him concerning the future state and the immortality of the +soul. Macrobius, about AD. 500, wrote a Commentary upon the +“Somnium Scipionis,” which was a favourite book in the Middle +Ages. See note 17 to The Nun’s Priest’s Tale. +</p> + +<p> +2. Y-nome: taken; past participle of “nime,” from Anglo-Saxon, +“niman,” to take. +</p> + +<p> +3. His grace: the favour which the gods would show him, in +delivering Carthage into his hands. +</p> + +<p> +4. “Vestra vero, quae dicitur, vita mors est.” (“Truly, as is said, +your life is a death”) +</p> + +<p> +5. The nine spheres are God, or the highest heaven, constraining +and containing all the others; the Earth, around which the +planets and the highest heaven revolve; and the seven planets: +the revolution of all producing the “music of the spheres.” +</p> + +<p> +6. Clear: illustrious, noble; Latin, “clarus.” +</p> + +<p> +7. The sicke mette he drinketh of the tun: The sick man dreams +that he drinks wine, as one in health. +</p> + +<p> +8. The significance of the poet’s looking to the NNW is not +plain; his window may have faced that way. +</p> + +<p> +9. The idea of the twin gates, leading to the Paradise and the +Hell of lovers, may have been taken from the description of the +gates of dreams in the Odyssey and the Aeneid; but the iteration +of “Through me men go” far more directly suggests the legend +on Dante’s gate of Hell:— +</p> + +<p> +Per me si va nella citta dolente,<br/> +Per me si va nell’ eterno dolore;<br/> +Per me si va tra la perduta gente. +</p> + +<p> +(“Through me is the way to the city of sorrow,<br/> +Through me is the way to eternal suffering;<br/> +Through me is the way of the lost people”) +</p> + +<p> +The famous line, “Lasciate ogni speranza, voi che entrate” — +“All hope abandon, ye who enter here” — is evidently +paraphrased in Chaucer’s words “Th’eschewing is the only +remedy;” that is, the sole hope consists in the avoidance of that +dismal gate. +</p> + +<p> +10. A powerful though homely description of torment; the +sufferers being represented as fish enclosed in a weir from +which all the water has been withdrawn. +</p> + +<p> +11. Compare with this catalogue raisonne of trees the ampler +list given by Spenser in “The Faerie Queen,” book i. canto i. In +several instances, as in “the builder oak” and “the sailing pine,” +the later poet has exactly copied the words of the earlier. +The builder oak: In the Middle Ages the oak was as +distinctively the building timber on land, as it subsequently +became for the sea. +The pillar elm: Spenser explains this in paraphrasing it into “the +vineprop elm” — because it was planted as a pillar or prop to +the vine; it is called “the coffer unto carrain,” or “carrion,” +because coffins for the dead were made from it. +The box, pipe tree: the box tree was used for making pipes or horns. +Holm: the holly, used for whip-handles. +The sailing fir: Because ships’ masts and spars were made of its +wood. +The cypress death to plain: in Spenser’s imitation, “the cypress +funeral.” +The shooter yew: yew wood was used for bows. +The aspe for shaftes plain: of the aspen, or black poplar, arrows +were made. +The laurel divine: So called, either because it was Apollo’s +tree — Horace says that Pindar is “laurea donandus Apollinari” (“to +be given Apollo’s laurel”) — or because the honour which it +signified, when placed on the head of a poet or conqueror, lifted +a man as it were into the rank of the gods. +</p> + +<p> +12. If Chaucer had any special trio of courtiers in his mind when +he excluded so many names, we may suppose them to be +Charms, Sorcery, and Leasings who, in The Knight’s Tale, come +after Bawdry and Riches — to whom Messagerie (the carrying +of messages) and Meed (reward, bribe) may correspond. +</p> + +<p> +13. The dove was the bird sacred to Venus; hence Ovid +enumerates the peacock of Juno, Jove’s armour bearing bird, +“Cythereiadasque columbas” (“And the Cythereian doves”) — +“Metamorphoses. xv. 386 +</p> + +<p> +14. Priapus: fitly endowed with a place in the Temple of Love, +as being the embodiment of the principle of fertility in flocks +and the fruits of the earth. See note 23 to the Merchant’s Tale. +</p> + +<p> +15. Ovid, in the “Fasti” (i. 433), describes the confusion of +Priapus when, in the night following a feast of sylvan and +Bacchic deities, the braying of the ass of Silenus wakened the +company to detect the god in a furtive amatory expedition. +</p> + +<p> +16. Hautain: haughty, lofty; French, “hautain.” +</p> + +<p> +17. Well to my pay: Well to my satisfaction; from French, +“payer,” to pay, satisfy; the same word often occurs, in the +phrases “well apaid,” and “evil apaid.” +</p> + +<p> +18. Valentia, in Spain, was famed for the fabrication of fine and +transparent stuffs. +</p> + +<p> +19. The obvious reference is to the proverbial “Sine Cerere et +Libero friget Venus,” (“Love is frozen without freedom and +food”) quoted in Terence, “Eunuchus,” act iv. scene v. +</p> + +<p> +20. Cypride: Venus; called “Cypria,” or “Cypris,” from the +island of Cyprus, in which her worship was especially +celebrated. +</p> + +<p> +21. Callisto, daughter of Lycaon, was seduced by Jupiter, +turned into a bear by Diana, and placed afterwards, with her +son, as the Great Bear among the stars. +Atalanta challenged Hippomenes, a Boetian youth, to a race in +which the prize was her hand in marriage — the penalty of +failure, death by her hand. Venus gave Hippomenes three +golden apples, and he won by dropping them one at a time +because Atalanta stopped to pick them up. +Semiramis was Queen of Ninus, the mythical founder of +Babylon; Ovid mentions her, along with Lais, as a type of +voluptuousness, in his “Amores,” 1.5, 11. +Canace, daughter of Aeolus, is named in the prologue to The +Man of Law’s Tale as one of the ladies whose “cursed stories” +Chaucer refrained from writing. She loved her brother +Macareus, and was slain by her father. +Hercules was conquered by his love for Omphale, and spun +wool for her in a woman’s dress, while she wore his lion’s skin. +Biblis vainly pursued her brother Caunus with her love, till she +was changed to a fountain; Ovid, “Metamorphoses.” lib. ix. +Thisbe and Pyramus: the Babylonian lovers, whose death, +through the error of Pyramus in fancying that a lion had slain his +mistress, forms the theme of the interlude in the “Midsummer +Night’s Dream.” +Sir Tristram was one of the most famous among the knights of +King Arthur, and La Belle Isoude was his mistress. Their story +is mixed up with the Arthurian romance; but it was also the +subject of separate treatment, being among the most popular of +the Middle Age legends. +Achilles is reckoned among Love’s conquests, because, +according to some traditions, he loved Polyxena, the daughter +of Priam, who was promised to him if he consented to join the +Trojans; and, going without arms into Apollo’s temple at +Thymbra, he was there slain by Paris. +Scylla: Love-stories are told of two maidens of this name; one +the daughter of Nisus, King of Megara, who, falling in love with +Minos when he besieged the city, slew her father by pulling +out the golden hair which grew on the top of his head, and on +which which his life and kingdom depended. Minos won the +city, but rejected her love in horror. The other Scylla, from +whom the rock opposite Charybdis was named, was a beautiful +maiden, beloved by the sea-god Glaucus, but changed into a +monster through the jealousy and enchantments of Circe. +The mother of Romulus: Silvia, daughter and only living child +of Numitor, whom her uncle Amulius made a vestal virgin, to +preclude the possibility that his brother’s descendants could +wrest from him the kingdom of Alba Longa. But the maiden +was violated by Mars as she went to bring water from a +fountain; she bore Romulus and Remus; and she was drowned +in the Anio, while the cradle with the children was carried down +the stream in safety to the Palatine Hill, where the she-wolf +adopted them. +</p> + +<p> +22. Prest: ready; French, “pret.” +</p> + +<p> +23. Alanus de Insulis, a Sicilian poet and orator of the twelfth +century, who wrote a book “De Planctu Naturae” — “The +Complaint of Nature.” +</p> + +<p> +24. The falcon was borne on the hand by the highest +personages, not merely in actual sport, but to be caressed and +petted, even on occasions of ceremony, Hence also it is called +the “gentle” falcon — as if its high birth and breeding gave it a +right to august society. +</p> + +<p> +25. The merlion: elsewhere in the same poem called “emerlon;” +French, “emerillon;” the merlin, a small hawk carried by ladies. +</p> + +<p> +26. The scorning jay: scorning humbler birds, out of pride of his +fine plumage. +</p> + +<p> +27. The false lapwing: full of stratagems and pretences to divert +approaching danger from the nest where her young ones are. +</p> + +<p> +28. The sparrow, Venus’ son: Because sacred to Venus. +</p> + +<p> +29. Coming with the spring, the nightingale is charmingly said +to call forth the new leaves. +</p> + +<p> +30. Many-coloured wings, like those of peacocks, were often +given to angels in paintings of the Middle Ages; and in +accordance with this fashion Spenser represents the Angel that +guarded Sir Guyon (“Faerie Queen,” book ii. canto vii.) as +having wings “decked with diverse plumes, like painted jay’s.” +</p> + +<p> +31. The pheasant, scorner of the cock by night: The meaning of +this passage is not very plain; it has been supposed, however, to +refer to the frequent breeding of pheasants at night with +domestic poultry in the farmyard — thus scorning the sway of +the cock, its rightful monarch. +</p> + +<p> +32. The waker goose: Chaucer evidently alludes to the passage +in Ovid describing the crow of Apollo, which rivalled the +spotless doves, “Nec servataris vigili Capitolia voce cederet +anseribus” — “nor would it yield (in whiteness) to the geese +destined with wakeful or vigilant voice to save the Capitol” +(“Metam.,” ii. 538) when about to be surprised by the Gauls in +a night attack. +</p> + +<p> +33. The cuckoo ever unkind: the significance of this epithet is +amply explained by the poem of “The Cuckoo and the +Nightingale.” +</p> + +<p> +34. The drake, destroyer: of the ducklings — which, if not +prevented, he will kill wholesale. +</p> + +<p> +35. The stork is conspicuous for faithfulness to all family +obligations, devotion to its young, and care of its parent birds in +their old age. Mr Bell quotes from Bishop Stanley’s “History of +Birds” a little story which peculiarly justifies the special +character Chaucer has given: — “A French surgeon, at Smyrna, +wishing to procure a stork, and finding great difficulty, on +account of the extreme veneration in which they are held by the +Turks, stole all the eggs out of a nest, and replaced them with +those of a hen: in process of time the young chickens came +forth, much to the astonishment of Mr and Mrs Stork. In a +short time Mr S. went off, and was not seen for two or three +days, when he returned with an immense crowd of his +companions, who all assembled in the place, and formed a +circle, taking no notice of the numerous spectators whom so +unusual an occurrence had collected. Mrs Stork was brought +forward into the midst of the circle, and, after some +consultation, the whole flock fell upon her and tore her to +pieces; after which they immediately dispersed, and the nest was +entirely abandoned.” +</p> + +<p> +36. The cormorant feeds upon fish, so voraciously, that when +the stomach is crammed it will often have the gullet and bill +likewise full, awaiting the digestion of the rest. +</p> + +<p> +37. So called from the evil omens supposed to be afforded by +their harsh cries. +</p> + +<p> +38. The fieldfare visits this country only in hard wintry weather. +</p> + +<p> +39. “Formel,” strictly or originally applied to the female of the +eagle and hawk, is here used generally of the female of all birds; +“tercel” is the corresponding word applied to the male. +</p> + +<p> +40. Entriketh: entangles, ensnares; french, “intriguer,” to +perplex; hence “intricate.” +</p> + +<p> +41. Entremette him of: meddle with; French, “entremettre,” to +interfere. +</p> + +<p> +42. The duck exhorts the contending lovers to be of light heart +and sing, for abundance of other ladies were at their command. +</p> + +<p> +43. Solain: single, alone; the same word originally as “sullen.” +</p> + +<p> +44. The cuckoo is distinguished by its habit of laying its eggs in +the nests of other and smaller birds, such as the hedge-sparrow +(“heggsugg”); and its young, when hatched, throw the eggs or +nestlings of the true parent bird out of the nest, thus engrossing +the mother’s entire care. The crime on which the emerlon +comments so sharply, is explained by the migratory habits of the +cuckoo, which prevent its bringing up its own young; and +nature has provided facilities for the crime, by furnishing the +young bird with a peculiarly strong and broad back, indented by +a hollow in which the sparrow’s egg is lifted till it is thrown out +of the nest. +</p> + +<p> +45. “Who well loves, late forgets;” the refrain of the roundel +inculcates the duty of constancy, which has been imposed on +the three tercels by the decision of the Court. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap33"></a>THE FLOWER AND THE LEAF</h2> + +<p> +[“The Flower and the Leaf” is pre-eminently one of those +poems by which Chaucer may be triumphantly defended against +the charge of licentious coarseness, that, founded upon his +faithful representation of the manners, customs, and daily life +and speech of his own time, in “The Canterbury Tales,” are +sweepingly advanced against his works at large. In an allegory — +rendered perhaps somewhat cumbrous by the detail of chivalric +ceremonial, and the heraldic minuteness, which entered so liberally +into poetry, as into the daily life of the classes for whom poetry +was then written — Chaucer beautifully enforces the lasting +advantages of purity, valour, and faithful love, and the fleeting +and disappointing character of mere idle pleasure, of sloth +and listless retirement from the battle of life. In the +“season sweet” of spring, which the great singer of Middle Age +England loved so well, a gentle woman is supposed to seek +sleep in vain, to rise “about the springing of the gladsome day,” +and, by an unfrequented path in a pleasant grove, to arrive at an +arbour. Beside the arbour stands a medlar-tree, in which a +Goldfinch sings passing sweetly; and the Nightingale answers +from a green laurel tree, with so merry and ravishing a note, +that the lady resolves to proceed no farther, but sit down on the +grass to listen. Suddenly the sound of many voices singing +surprises her; and she sees “a world of ladies” emerge from a +grove, clad in white, and wearing garlands of laurel, of agnus +castus, and woodbind. One, who wears a crown and bears a +branch of agnus castus in her hand, begins a roundel, in honour +of the Leaf, which all the others take up, dancing and singing in +the meadow before the arbour. Soon, to the sound of +thundering trumps, and attended by a splendid and warlike +retinue, enter nine knights, in white, crowned like the ladies; +and after they have jousted an hour and more, they alight and +advance to the ladies. Each dame takes a knight by the hand; +and all incline reverently to the laurel tree, which they +encompass, singing of love, and dancing. Soon, preceded by a +band of minstrels, out of the open field comes a lusty company +of knights and ladies in green, crowned with chaplets of +flowers; and they do reverence to a tuft of flowers in the middle +of the meadow, while one of their number sings a bergerette in +praise of the daisy. But now it is high noon; the sun waxes +fervently hot; the flowers lose their beauty, and wither with the +heat; the ladies in green are scorched, the knights faint for lack +of shade. Then a strong wind beats down all the flowers, save +such as are protected by the leaves of hedges and groves; and a +mighty storm of rain and hail drenches the ladies and knights, +shelterless in the now flowerless meadow. The storm overpast, +the company in white, whom the laurel-tree has safely shielded +from heat and storm, advance to the relief of the others; and +when their clothes have been dried, and their wounds from sun +and storm healed, all go together to sup with the Queen in +white — on whose hand, as they pass by the arbour, the +Nightingale perches, while the Goldfinch flies to the Lady of the +Flower. The pageant gone, the gentlewoman quits the arbour, +and meets a lady in white, who, at her request, unfolds the +hidden meaning of all that she has seen; “which,” says Speght +quaintly, “is this: They which honour the Flower, a thing fading +with every blast, are such as look after beauty and worldly +pleasure. But they that honour the Leaf, which abideth with the +root, notwithstanding the frosts and winter storms, are they +which follow Virtue and during qualities, without regard of +worldly respects.” Mr Bell, in his edition, has properly noticed +that there is no explanation of the emblematical import of the +medlar-tree, the goldfinch, and the nightingale. “But,” he says, +“as the fruit of the medlar, to use Chaucer’s own expression (see +Prologue to the Reeve’s Tale), is rotten before it is ripe, it may +be the emblem of sensual pleasure, which palls before it confers +real enjoyment. The goldfinch is remarkable for the beauty of its +plumage, the sprightliness of its movements, and its gay, +tinkling song, and may be supposed to represent the showy and +unsubstantial character of frivolous pleasures. The nightingale’s +sober outward appearance and impassioned song denote greater +depth of feeling.” The poem throughout is marked by the purest +and loftiest moral tone; and it amply deserved Dryden’s special +recommendation, “both for the invention and the moral.” It is +given without abridgement.] +(Transcriber’s note: Modern scholars believe that Chaucer was +not the author of this poem) +</p> + +<p> +WHEN that Phoebus his car of gold so high<br/> +Had whirled up the starry sky aloft,<br/> +And in the Bull <1> enter’d certainly;<br/> +When showers sweet of rain descended soft,<br/> +Causing the grounde, fele* times and oft, *many<br/> +Up for to give many a wholesome air,<br/> +And every plain was y-clothed fair +</p> + +<p> +With newe green, and maketh smalle flow’rs<br/> +To springe here and there in field and mead;<br/> +So very good and wholesome be the show’rs,<br/> +That they renewe what was old and dead<br/> +In winter time; and out of ev’ry seed<br/> +Springeth the herbe, so that ev’ry wight<br/> +Of thilke* season waxeth glad and light. *this +</p> + +<p> +And I, so glad of thilke season sweet,<br/> +Was *happed thus* upon a certain night, *thus circumstanced*<br/> +As I lay in my bed, sleep full unmeet* *unfit, uncompliant<br/> +Was unto me; but why that I not might<br/> +Rest, I not wist; for there n’as* earthly wight, *was not<br/> +As I suppose, had more hearte’s ease<br/> +Than I, for I n’had* sickness nor disease.** *had not **distress +</p> + +<p> +Wherefore I marvel greatly of myself,<br/> +That I so long withoute sleepe lay;<br/> +And up I rose three houres after twelf,<br/> +About the springing of the [gladsome] day;<br/> +And on I put my gear* and mine array, *garments<br/> +And to a pleasant grove I gan to pass,<br/> +Long ere the brighte sun uprisen was; +</p> + +<p> +In which were oakes great, straight as a line,<br/> +Under the which the grass, so fresh of hue,<br/> +Was newly sprung; and an eight foot or nine<br/> +Every tree well from his fellow grew,<br/> +With branches broad, laden with leaves new,<br/> +That sprangen out against the sunne sheen;<br/> +Some very red;<2> and some a glad light green; +</p> + +<p> +Which, as me thought, was right a pleasant sight.<br/> +And eke the birdes’ songes for to hear<br/> +Would have rejoiced any earthly wight;<br/> +And I, that could not yet, in no mannere,<br/> +Heare the nightingale of* all the year,<3> *during<br/> +Full busy hearkened with heart and ear,<br/> +If I her voice perceive could anywhere. +</p> + +<p> +And at the last a path of little brede* *breadth<br/> +I found, that greatly had not used be;<br/> +For it forgrowen* was with grass and weed, *overgrown<br/> +That well unneth* a wight mighte see: *scarcely<br/> +Thought I, “This path some whither goes, pardie!”* *of a surety<br/> +And so I follow’d [it], till it me brought<br/> +To a right pleasant arbour, well y-wrought, +</p> + +<p> +That benched was, and [all] with turfes new<br/> +Freshly y-turf’d, <4> whereof the greene grass,<br/> +So small, so thick, so short, so fresh of hue,<br/> +That most like to green wool, I wot, it was;<br/> +The hedge also, that *yeden in compass,* *went all around <5>*<br/> +And closed in all the greene herbere,* *arbour<br/> +With sycamore was set and eglatere,* *eglantine, sweet-briar +</p> + +<p> +Wreathed *in fere* so well and cunningly, *together*<br/> +That ev’ry branch and leaf grew *by measure,* *regularly*<br/> +Plain as a board, of *a height by and by:* *the same height side<br/> +I saw never a thing, I you ensure, by side*<br/> +So well y-done; for he that took the cure* *pains, care<br/> +To maken it, I trow did all his pain<br/> +To make it pass all those that men have seen. +</p> + +<p> +And shapen was this arbour, roof and all,<br/> +As is a pretty parlour; and also<br/> +The hedge as thick was as a castle wall,<br/> +That whoso list without to stand or go,<br/> +Though he would all day pryen to and fro,<br/> +He should not see if there were any wight<br/> +Within or no; but one within well might +</p> + +<p> +Perceive all those that wente there without<br/> +Into the field, that was on ev’ry side<br/> +Cover’d with corn and grass; that out of doubt,<br/> +Though one would seeken all the worlde wide,<br/> +So rich a fielde could not be espied<br/> +Upon no coast, *as of the quantity;* *for its abundance<br/> +For of all goode thing there was plenty. or fertility* +</p> + +<p> +And I, that all this pleasant sight [did] see,<br/> +Thought suddenly I felt so sweet an air<br/> +Of the eglentere, that certainly<br/> +There is no heart, I deem, in such despair,<br/> +Nor yet with thoughtes froward and contrair<br/> +So overlaid, but it should soon have boot,* *remedy, relief*<br/> +If it had ones felt this *savour swoot.* *sweet smell* +</p> + +<p> +And as I stood, and cast aside mine eye,<br/> +I was ware of the fairest medlar tree<br/> +That ever yet in all my life I seye,* *saw<br/> +As full of blossoms as it mighte be;<br/> +Therein a goldfinch leaping prettily<br/> +From bough to bough; and as him list he eat<br/> +Here and there of the buds and flowers sweet. +</p> + +<p> +And to the arbour side was adjoining<br/> +This fairest tree, of which I have you told;<br/> +And at the last the bird began to sing<br/> +(When he had eaten what he eate wo’ld)<br/> +So passing sweetly, that by many fold<br/> +It was more pleasant than I could devise;* *tell, describe<br/> +And, when his song was ended in this wise, +</p> + +<p> +The nightingale with so merry a note<br/> +Answered him, that all the woode rung,<br/> +So suddenly, that, *as it were a sote,* *like a fool <6>*<br/> +I stood astound’; so was I with the song<br/> +Thorough ravished, that, *till late and long,* *for a long time*<br/> +I wist not in what place I was, nor where;<br/> +Again, me thought, she sung e’en by mine ear. +</p> + +<p> +Wherefore I waited about busily<br/> +On ev’ry side, if that I might her see;<br/> +And at the last I gan full well espy<br/> +Where she sat in a fresh green laurel tree,<br/> +On the further side, even right by me,<br/> +That gave so passing a delicious smell,<br/> +*According to* the eglantere full well. *blending with* +</p> + +<p> +Whereof I had so inly great pleasure,<br/> +That, as me thought, I surely ravish’d was<br/> +Into Paradise, where [as] my desire<br/> +Was for to be, and no farther to pass,<br/> +As for that day; and on the sweete grass<br/> +I sat me down; for, *as for mine intent,* *to my mind*<br/> +The birde’s song was more *convenient,* *appropriate to my humour* +</p> + +<p> +And more pleasant to me, by many fold,<br/> +Than meat, or drink, or any other thing;<br/> +Thereto the arbour was so fresh and cold,<br/> +The wholesome savours eke so comforting,<br/> +That, as I deemed, since the beginning<br/> +Of the world was [there] never seen *ere than* *before then*<br/> +So pleasant a ground of none earthly man. +</p> + +<p> +And as I sat, the birdes heark’ning thus,<br/> +Me thought that I heard voices suddenly,<br/> +The most sweetest and most delicious<br/> +That ever any wight, I *trow truely,* *verily believe*<br/> +Heard in their life; for the harmony<br/> +And sweet accord was in so good musike,<br/> +That the voices to angels’ most were like. +</p> + +<p> +At the last, out of a grove even by,<br/> +That was right goodly, and pleasant to sight,<br/> +I saw where there came, singing lustily,<br/> +A world of ladies; but to tell aright<br/> +Their greate beauty, lies not in my might,<br/> +Nor their array; nevertheless I shall<br/> +Tell you a part, though I speak not of all. +</p> + +<p> +In surcoats* white, of velvet well fitting, *upper robes<br/> +They were clad, and the seames each one,<br/> +As it were a mannere [of] garnishing,<br/> +Was set with emeraldes, one and one,<br/> +*By and by;* but many a riche stone *in a row*<br/> +Was set upon the purfles,* out of doubt, *embroidered edges<br/> +Of collars, sleeves, and traines round about; +</p> + +<p> +As greate pearles, round and orient,* *brilliant<br/> +And diamondes fine, and rubies red,<br/> +And many another stone, of which I went* *cannot recall<br/> +The names now; and ev’reach on her head<br/> +[Had] a rich fret* of gold, which, without dread,** *band **doubt<br/> +Was full of stately* riche stones set; *valuable, noble<br/> +And ev’ry lady had a chapelet +</p> + +<p> +Upon her head of branches fresh and green, <7><br/> +So well y-wrought, and so marvellously,<br/> +That it was a right noble sight to see’n;<br/> +Some of laurel, and some full pleasantly<br/> +Had chapelets of woodbine; and sadly,* *sedately<br/> +Some of agnus castus <8> wearen also<br/> +Chapelets fresh; but there were many of tho’* *those +</p> + +<p> +That danced and eke sung full soberly;<br/> +And all they went *in manner of compass;* *in a circle*<br/> +But one there went, in mid the company,<br/> +Sole by herself; but all follow’d the pace<br/> +That she kept, whose heavenly figur’d face<br/> +So pleasant was, and her well shap’d person,<br/> +That in beauty she pass’d them ev’ry one. +</p> + +<p> +And more richly beseen, by many fold,<br/> +She was also in ev’ry manner thing:<br/> +Upon her head, full pleasant to behold,<br/> +A crown of golde, rich for any king;<br/> +A branch of agnus castus eke bearing<br/> +In her hand, and to my sight truely<br/> +She Lady was of all that company. +</p> + +<p> +And she began a roundell <9> lustily,<br/> +That “Suse le foyle, devers moi,” men call,<br/> +“Siene et mon joly coeur est endormy;” <10><br/> +And then the company answered all,<br/> +With voices sweet entuned, and so small,* *fine<br/> +That me thought it the sweetest melody<br/> +That ever I heard in my life, soothly.* *truly +</p> + +<p> +And thus they came, dancing and singing,<br/> +Into the middest of the mead each one,<br/> +Before the arbour where I was sitting;<br/> +And, God wot, me thought I was well-begone,* *fortunate<br/> +For then I might advise* them one by one, *consider<br/> +Who fairest was, who best could dance or sing,<br/> +Or who most womanly was in all thing. +</p> + +<p> +They had not danced but a *little throw,* *short time*<br/> +When that I hearde far off, suddenly,<br/> +So great a noise of thund’ring trumpets blow,<br/> +As though it should departed* have the sky; *rent, divide<br/> +And after that, within a while, I sigh,* *saw<br/> +From the same grove, where the ladies came out,<br/> +Of men of armes coming such a rout,* *company +</p> + +<p> +As* all the men on earth had been assembled *as if<br/> +Unto that place, well horsed for the nonce* *occasion<br/> +Stirring so fast, that all the earthe trembled<br/> +But for to speak of riches, and of stones,<br/> +And men and horse, I trow the large ones* *i.e. jewels<br/> +Of Prester John, <11> nor all his treasury,<br/> +Might not unneth* have bought the tenth party** *hardly **part +</p> + +<p> +Of their array: whoso list heare more,<br/> +I shall rehearse so as I can a lite.* *little<br/> +Out of the grove, that I spake of before,<br/> +I saw come first, all in their cloakes white,<br/> +A company, that wore, for their delight,<br/> +Chapelets fresh of oake cerrial, <12><br/> +Newly y-sprung; and trumpets* were they all. *trumpeters +</p> + +<p> +On ev’ry trump hanging a broad bannere<br/> +Of fine tartarium <13> was, full richly beat;* *embroidered with gold<br/> +Every trumpet his lord’s armes bare;<br/> +About their necks, with greate pearles set,<br/> +[Were] collars broad; for cost they would not let,* *be hindered by<br/> +As it would seem, for their scutcheons each one<br/> +Were set about with many a precious stone. +</p> + +<p> +Their horses’ harness was all white also.<br/> +And after them next, in one company,<br/> +Came kinges at armes and no mo’,<br/> +In cloakes of white cloth with gold richly;<br/> +Chaplets of green upon their heads on high;<br/> +The crownes that they on their scutcheons bare<br/> +Were set with pearl, and ruby, and sapphire, +</p> + +<p> +And eke great diamondes many one:<br/> +But all their horse harness, and other gear,<br/> +Was in a suit according, ev’ry one,<br/> +As ye have heard the foresaid trumpets were;<br/> +And, by seeming, they *were nothing to lear,* *had nothing to learn*<br/> +And their guiding they did all mannerly.* *perfectly<br/> +And after them came a great company +</p> + +<p> +Of heraldes and pursuivantes eke,<br/> +Arrayed in clothes of white velvet;<br/> +And, hardily,* they were no thing to seek, assuredly<br/> +How they on them shoulde the harness set:<br/> +And ev’ry man had on a chapelet;<br/> +Scutcheones and eke harness, indeed,<br/> +They had *in suit of* them that ’fore them yede.* *corresponding with*<br/> + *went<br/> +Next after them in came, in armour bright,<br/> +All save their heades, seemly knightes nine,<br/> +And ev’ry clasp and nail, as to my sight,<br/> +Of their harness was of red golde fine;<br/> +With cloth of gold, and furred with ermine,<br/> +Were the trappures* of their steedes strong, *trappings<br/> +Both wide and large, that to the grounde hung. +</p> + +<p> +And ev’ry boss of bridle and paytrel* *horse’s breastplate<br/> +That they had on, was worth, as I would ween,<br/> +A thousand pound; and on their heades, well<br/> +Dressed, were crownes of the laurel green,<br/> +The beste made that ever I had seen;<br/> +And ev’ry knight had after him riding<br/> +Three henchemen* upon him awaiting. *pages +</p> + +<p> +Of which ev’ry [first], on a short truncheon,* *staff<br/> +His lorde’s helmet bare, so richly dight,* *adorned<br/> +That the worst of them was worthy the ranson* *ransom<br/> +Of any king; the second a shielde bright<br/> +Bare at his back; the thirde bare upright<br/> +A mighty spear, full sharp y-ground and keen;<br/> +And ev’ry childe* ware of leaves green *page +</p> + +<p> +A freshe chaplet on his haires bright;<br/> +And cloakes white of fine velvet they ware<br/> +Their steedes trapped and arrayed right,<br/> +Without difference, as their lordes’ were;<br/> +And after them, on many a fresh courser,<br/> +There came of armed knightes such a rout,* *company, crowd<br/> +That they bespread the large field about. +</p> + +<p> +And all they waren, after their degrees,<br/> +Chapelets newe made of laurel green,<br/> +Some of the oak, and some of other trees;<br/> +Some in their handes bare boughes sheen,* *bright<br/> +Some of laurel, and some of oakes keen,<br/> +Some of hawthorn, and some of the woodbind,<br/> +And many more which I had not in mind. +</p> + +<p> +And so they came, their horses fresh stirring<br/> +With bloody soundes of their trumpets loud;<br/> +There saw I many an *uncouth disguising* *strange manoeuvring*<br/> +In the array of these knightes proud;<br/> +And at the last, as evenly as they could,<br/> +They took their place in middest of the mead,<br/> +And ev’ry knight turned his horse’s head +</p> + +<p> +To his fellow, and lightly laid a spear<br/> +Into the rest; and so the jousts began<br/> +On ev’ry part aboute, here and there;<br/> +Some brake his spear, some threw down horse and man;<br/> +About the field astray the steedes ran;<br/> +And, to behold their rule and governance,* *conduct<br/> +I you ensure, it was a great pleasuance. +</p> + +<p> +And so the joustes last’* an hour and more; *lasted<br/> +But those that crowned were in laurel green<br/> +Wonne the prize; their dintes* were so sore, *strokes<br/> +That there was none against them might sustene:<br/> +And the jousting was alle left off clean,<br/> +And from their horse the nine alight’ anon,<br/> +And so did all the remnant ev’ry one. +</p> + +<p> +And forth they went together, twain and twain,<br/> +That to behold it was a worthy sight,<br/> +Toward the ladies on the greene plain,<br/> +That sang and danced as I said now right;<br/> +The ladies, as soon as they goodly might,<br/> +They brake off both the song and eke the dance,<br/> +And went to meet them with full glad semblance.* *air, aspect +</p> + +<p> +And ev’ry lady took, full womanly,<br/> +By th’hand a knight, and so forth right they yede* *went<br/> +Unto a fair laurel that stood fast by,<br/> +With leaves lade the boughs of greate brede;* *breadth<br/> +And, to my doom,* there never was, indeed, *judgment<br/> +Man that had seene half so fair a tree;<br/> +For underneath it there might well have be* *been +</p> + +<p> +A hundred persons, *at their own pleasance,* *in perfect comfort*<br/> +Shadowed from the heat of Phoebus bright,<br/> +So that they shoulde have felt no grievance* *annoyance<br/> +Of rain nor haile that them hurte might.<br/> +The savour eke rejoice would any wight<br/> +That had been sick or melancholious,<br/> +It was so very good and virtuous.* *full of healing virtues +</p> + +<p> +And with great rev’rence they inclined low<br/> +Unto the tree so sweet and fair of hue;* *appearance<br/> +And after that, within a *little throw,* *short time*<br/> +They all began to sing and dance of new,<br/> +Some song of love, some *plaining of untrue,* *complaint of<br/> +Environing* the tree that stood upright; unfaithfulness*<br/> +And ever went a lady and a knight. *going round +</p> + +<p> +And at the last I cast mine eye aside,<br/> +And was ware of a lusty company<br/> +That came roaming out of the fielde wide;<br/> +[And] hand in hand a knight and a lady;<br/> +The ladies all in surcoats, that richly<br/> +Purfiled* were with many a riche stone; *trimmed at the borders<br/> +And ev’ry knight of green ware mantles on, +</p> + +<p> +Embroider’d well, so as the surcoats were;<br/> +And ev’reach had a chaplet on her head<br/> +(Which did right well upon the shining hair),<br/> +Maked of goodly flowers, white and red.<br/> +The knightes eke, that they in hande led,<br/> +In suit of them ware chaplets ev’ry one,<br/> +And them before went minstrels many one, +</p> + +<p> +As harpes, pipes, lutes, and psaltry,<br/> +All [clad] in green; and, on their heades bare,<br/> +Of divers flowers, made full craftily<br/> +All in a suit, goodly chaplets they ware;<br/> +And so dancing into the mead they fare.<br/> +In mid the which they found a tuft that was<br/> +All overspread with flowers in compass* *around, in a circle +</p> + +<p> +Whereunto they inclined ev’ry one,<br/> +With great reverence, and that full humbly<br/> +And at the last there then began anon<br/> +A lady for to sing right womanly,<br/> +A bargaret, <14> in praising the daisy.<br/> +For, as me thought, among her notes sweet,<br/> +She saide: “Si douce est la margarete.”<15> +</p> + +<p> +Then alle they answered her in fere* *together<br/> +So passingly well, and so pleasantly,<br/> +That it was a [most] blissful noise to hear.<br/> +But, I n’ot* how, it happen’d suddenly *know not<br/> +As about noon the sun so fervently<br/> +Wax’d hote, that the pretty tender flow’rs<br/> +Had lost the beauty of their fresh colours, +</p> + +<p> +Forshrunk* with heat; the ladies eke to-brent,** *shrivelled **very burnt<br/> +That they knew not where they might them bestow;<br/> +The knightes swelt,* for lack of shade nigh shent** *fainted **destroyed<br/> +And after that, within a little throw,<br/> +The wind began so sturdily to blow,<br/> +That down went all the flowers ev’ry one,<br/> +So that in all the mead there left not one; +</p> + +<p> +Save such as succour’d were among the leaves<br/> +From ev’ry storm that mighte them assail,<br/> +Growing under the hedges and thick greves;* *groves, boughs<br/> +And after that there came a storm of hail<br/> +And rain in fere,* so that withoute fail *together<br/> +The ladies nor the knights had not one thread<br/> +Dry on them, so dropping was [all] their weed.* *clothing +</p> + +<p> +And when the storm was passed clean away,<br/> +Those in the white, that stood under the tree,<br/> +They felt no thing of all the great affray<br/> +That they in green without *had in y-be:* *had been in*<br/> +To them they went for ruth, and for pity,<br/> +Them to comfort after their great disease;* *trouble<br/> +So fain* they were the helpless for to ease. *glad, eager +</p> + +<p> +Then I was ware how one of them in green<br/> +Had on a crowne, rich and well sitting;* *becoming<br/> +Wherefore I deemed well she was a queen,<br/> +And those in green on her were awaiting.* *in attendance<br/> +The ladies then in white that were coming<br/> +Toward them, and the knightes eke *in fere,* *together*<br/> +Began to comfort them, and make them cheer. +</p> + +<p> +The queen in white, that was of great beauty,<br/> +Took by the hand the queen that was in green,<br/> +And saide: “Sister, I have great pity<br/> +Of your annoy, and of your troublous teen,* *injury, grief<br/> +Wherein you and your company have been<br/> +So long, alas! and if that it you please<br/> +To go with me, I shall you do the ease, +</p> + +<p> +“In all the pleasure that I can or may;”<br/> +Whereof the other, humbly as she might,<br/> +Thanked her; for in right evil array<br/> +She was, with storm and heat, I you behight;* *assure<br/> +Arid ev’ry lady then anon aright,<br/> +That were in white, one of them took in green<br/> +By the hand; which when that the knights had seen, +</p> + +<p> +In like mannere each of them took a knight<br/> +Y-clad in green, and forth with them they fare<br/> +Unto a hedge, where that they anon right,<br/> +To make their joustes,<16> they would not spare<br/> +Boughes to hewe down, and eke trees square,<br/> +Wherewith they made them stately fires great,<br/> +To dry their clothes, that were wringing wet. +</p> + +<p> +And after that, of herbes that there grew,<br/> +They made, for blisters of the sun’s burning,<br/> +Ointmentes very good, wholesome, and new,<br/> +Wherewith they went the sick fast anointing;<br/> +And after that they went about gath’ring<br/> +Pleasant salades, which they made them eat,<br/> +For to refresh their great unkindly heat. +</p> + +<p> +The Lady of the Leaf then gan to pray<br/> +Her of the Flower (for so, to my seeming,<br/> +They should be called, as by their array),<br/> +To sup with her; and eke, for anything,<br/> +That she should with her all her people bring;<br/> +And she again in right goodly mannere<br/> +Thanked her fast of her most friendly cheer; +</p> + +<p> +Saying plainely, that she would obey,<br/> +With all her heart, all her commandement:<br/> +And then anon, without longer delay,<br/> +The Lady of the Leaf hath one y-sent<br/> +To bring a palfrey, *after her intent,* *according to her wish*<br/> +Arrayed well in fair harness of gold;<br/> +For nothing lack’d, that *to him longe sho’ld.* *should belong to him* +</p> + +<p> +And, after that, to all her company<br/> +She made to purvey* horse and ev’rything *provide<br/> +That they needed; and then full lustily,<br/> +Ev’n by the arbour where I was sitting,<br/> +They passed all, so merrily singing,<br/> +That it would have comforted any wight.<br/> +But then I saw a passing wondrous sight; +</p> + +<p> +For then the nightingale, that all the day<br/> +Had in the laurel sat, and did her might<br/> +The whole service to sing longing to May,<br/> +All suddenly began to take her flight;<br/> +And to the Lady of the Leaf forthright<br/> +She flew, and set her on her hand softly;<br/> +Which was a thing I marvell’d at greatly. +</p> + +<p> +The goldfinch eke, that from the medlar tree<br/> +Was fled for heat into the bushes cold,<br/> +Unto the Lady of the Flower gan flee,<br/> +And on her hand he set him as he wo’ld,<br/> +And pleasantly his winges gan to fold;<br/> +And for to sing they *pain’d them* both, as sore *made great exertions*<br/> +As they had done *of all* the day before. *during +</p> + +<p> +And so these ladies rode forth *a great pace,* *rapidly*<br/> +And all the rout of knightes eke in fere;<br/> +And I, that had seen all this *wonder case,* *wondrous incident*<br/> +Thought that I would assay in some mannere<br/> +To know fully the truth of this mattere,<br/> +And what they were that rode so pleasantly;<br/> +And when they were the arbour passed by, +</p> + +<p> +I *dress’d me forth,* and happ’d to meet anon *issued forth*<br/> +A right fair lady, I do you ensure;* *assure<br/> +And she came riding by herself alone,<br/> +All in white; [then] with semblance full demure<br/> +I her saluted, and bade good adventure* *fortune<br/> +Might her befall, as I could most humbly;<br/> +And she answer’d: “My daughter, gramercy!”* *great thanks <17> +</p> + +<p> +“Madame,” quoth I, “if that I durst enquere<br/> +Of you, I would fain, of that company,<br/> +Wit what they be that pass’d by this herbere?<br/> +And she again answered right friendly:<br/> +“My faire daughter, all that pass’d hereby<br/> +In white clothing, be servants ev’ry one<br/> +Unto the Leaf; and I myself am one. +</p> + +<p> +“See ye not her that crowned is,” quoth she<br/> +“[Clad] all in white?” — “Madame,” then quoth I, “yes:”<br/> +“That is Dian’, goddess of chastity;<br/> +And for because that she a maiden is,<br/> +In her hande the branch she beareth this,<br/> +That agnus castus <8> men call properly;<br/> +And all the ladies in her company, +</p> + +<p> +“Which ye see of that herbe chaplets wear,<br/> +Be such as have kept alway maidenhead:<br/> +And all they that of laurel chaplets bear,<br/> +Be such as hardy* were in manly deed, — *courageous<br/> +Victorious name which never may be dead!<br/> +And all they were so *worthy of their hand* *valiant in fight*<br/> +In their time, that no one might them withstand, +</p> + +<p> +“And those that weare chaplets on their head<br/> +Of fresh woodbind, be such as never were<br/> +To love untrue in word, in thought, nor deed,<br/> +But ay steadfast; nor for pleasance, nor fear,<br/> +Though that they should their heartes all to-tear,* *rend in pieces*<br/> +Would never flit,* but ever were steadfast, *change<br/> +*Till that their lives there asunder brast.”* *till they died* +</p> + +<p> +“Now fair Madame,” quoth I, “yet would I pray<br/> +Your ladyship, if that it mighte be,<br/> +That I might knowe, by some manner way<br/> +(Since that it hath liked your beauty,<br/> +The truth of these ladies for to tell me),<br/> +What that these knightes be in rich armour,<br/> +And what those be in green and wear the flow’r? +</p> + +<p> +“And why that some did rev’rence to that tree,<br/> +And some unto the plot of flowers fair?”<br/> +“With right good will, my daughter fair,” quoth she,<br/> +“Since your desire is good and debonair;* *gentle, courteous<br/> +The nine crowned be *very exemplair* *the true examples*<br/> +Of all honour longing to chivalry;<br/> +And those certain be call’d The Nine Worthy, <18> +</p> + +<p> +“Which ye may see now riding all before,<br/> +That in their time did many a noble deed,<br/> +And for their worthiness full oft have bore<br/> +The crown of laurel leaves upon their head,<br/> +As ye may in your olde bookes read;<br/> +And how that he that was a conquerour<br/> +Had by laurel alway his most honour. +</p> + +<p> +“And those that beare boughes in their hand<br/> +Of the precious laurel so notable,<br/> +Be such as were, I will ye understand,<br/> +Most noble Knightes of the Rounde Table,<19><br/> +And eke the Douceperes honourable; <20><br/> +Whiche they bear in sign of victory,<br/> +As witness of their deedes mightily. +</p> + +<p> +“Eke there be knightes old <21> of the Garter,<br/> +That in their time did right worthily;<br/> +And the honour they did to the laurer* *laurel <22><br/> +Is for* by it they have their laud wholly, *because<br/> +Their triumph eke, and martial glory;<br/> +Which unto them is more perfect richess<br/> +Than any wight imagine can, or guess. +</p> + +<p> +“For one leaf given of that noble tree<br/> +To any wight that hath done worthily,<br/> +An’* it be done so as it ought to be, *if<br/> +Is more honour than any thing earthly;<br/> +Witness of Rome, that founder was truly<br/> +Of alle knighthood and deeds marvellous;<br/> +Record I take of Titus Livius.” <23> +</p> + +<p> +And as for her that crowned is in green,<br/> +It is Flora, of these flowers goddess;<br/> +And all that here on her awaiting be’n,<br/> +It are such folk that loved idleness,<br/> +And not delighted in no business,<br/> +But for to hunt and hawk, and play in meads,<br/> +And many other such-like idle deeds. +</p> + +<p> +“And for the great delight and the pleasance<br/> +They have to the flow’r, and so rev’rently<br/> +They unto it do such obeisance<br/> +As ye may see.” “Now, fair Madame,”quoth I,<br/> +“If I durst ask, what is the cause, and why,<br/> +That knightes have the ensign* of honour *insignia<br/> +Rather by the leaf than by the flow’r?” +</p> + +<p> +“Soothly, daughter,” quoth she, “this is the troth:<br/> +For knights should ever be persevering,<br/> +To seek honour, without feintise* or sloth, *dissimulation<br/> +From well to better in all manner thing:<br/> +In sign of which, with leaves aye lasting<br/> +They be rewarded after their degree,<br/> +Whose lusty green may not appaired* be, *impaired, decayed +</p> + +<p> +“But ay keeping their beauty fresh and green;<br/> +For there is no storm that may them deface,<br/> +Nor hail nor snow, nor wind nor frostes keen;<br/> +Wherefore they have this property and grace:<br/> +And for the flow’r, within a little space,<br/> +Wolle* be lost, so simple of nature *will<br/> +They be, that they no grievance* may endure; *injury, hardship +</p> + +<p> +“And ev’ry storm will blow them soon away,<br/> +Nor they laste not but for a season;<br/> +That is the cause, the very truth to say,<br/> +That they may not, by no way of reason,<br/> +Be put to no such occupation.”<br/> +“Madame,” quoth I, “with all my whole service<br/> +I thank you now, in my most humble wise; +</p> + +<p> +“For now I am ascertain’d thoroughly<br/> +Of ev’ry thing that I desir’d to know.”<br/> +“I am right glad that I have said, soothly,<br/> +Aught to your pleasure, if ye will me trow,”* *believe<br/> +Quoth she again; “but to whom do ye owe<br/> +Your service? and which wolle* ye honour, *will<br/> +Tell me, I pray, this year, the Leaf or the Flow’r?” +</p> + +<p> +“Madame,” quoth I, “though I be least worthy,<br/> +Unto the Leaf I owe mine observance:”<br/> +“That is,” quoth she, “right well done, certainly;<br/> +And I pray God, to honour you advance,<br/> +And keep you from the wicked remembrance<br/> +Of Malebouche,* and all his cruelty; *Slander <24><br/> +And all that good and well-condition’d be. +</p> + +<p> +“For here may I no longer now abide;<br/> +I must follow the greate company,<br/> +That ye may see yonder before you ride.”<br/> +And forthwith, as I coulde, most humbly<br/> +I took my leave of her, and she gan hie* *haste<br/> +After them as fast as she ever might;<br/> +And I drew homeward, for it was nigh night, +</p> + +<p> +And put all that I had seen in writing,<br/> +Under support of them that list it read. <25><br/> +O little book! thou art so uncunning,* *unskilful<br/> +How dar’st thou put thyself in press, <26> for dread?<br/> +It is wonder that thou waxest not red!<br/> +Since that thou know’st full lite* who shall behold *little<br/> +Thy rude language, full *boistously unfold.* *unfolded in homely and<br/> + unpolished fashion* +</p> + +<p> +Explicit.* *The End +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to the Flower and the Leaf +</p> + +<p> +1. The Bull: the sign of Taurus, which the sun enters +in May. +</p> + +<p> +2. The young oak leaves are red or ashen coloured. +</p> + +<p> +3. Chaucer here again refers to the superstition, +noticed in “The Cuckoo and the Nightingale,” that it +was of good omen to hear the nightingale before the +cuckoo upon the advent of both with spring. +</p> + +<p> +4. The arbour was furnished with seats, which had +been newly covered with turf. +</p> + +<p> +5. “Yede” or “yead,” is the old form of go. +</p> + +<p> +6. Sote: fool — French “sot.” +</p> + +<p> +7. See note 59 to The Court of Love +</p> + +<p> +8. Agnus castus: the chaste-tree; a kind of willow. +</p> + +<p> +9. Roundell: French, “rondeau;” a song that comes +round again to the verse with which it opened, or that +is taken up in turn by each of the singers. +</p> + +<p> +10. In modern French form, “Sous la feuille, devers +moi, son et mon joli coeur est endormi” — “Under the +foliage, towards me, his and my jolly heart is gone to +sleep.” +</p> + +<p> +11. Prester John: The half-mythical Eastern potentate, +who is now supposed to have been, not a Christian +monarch of Abyssinia, but the head of the Indian +empire before Zenghis Khan’s conquest. +</p> + +<p> +12. Oak cerrial: of the species of oak which Pliny, in +his “Natural History,” calls “cerrus.” +</p> + +<p> +13. Tartarium: Cloth of Tars, or of Tortona. +</p> + +<p> +14. Bargaret: bergerette, or pastoral song. +</p> + +<p> +15. “Si douce est la margarete.”: “So sweet is the +daisy” (“la marguerite”). +</p> + +<p> +16. To make their joustes: the meaning is not very +obvious; but in The Knight’s Tale “jousts and array” +are in some editions made part of the adornment of +the Temple of Venus; and as the word “jousts” would +there carry the general meaning of “preparations” to +entertain or please a lover, in the present case it may +have a similar force. +</p> + +<p> +17. Gramercy: “grand merci,” French; great thanks. +</p> + +<p> +18. The Nine Worthies, who at our day survive in the +Seven Champions of Christendom. The Worthies +were favourite subjects for representation at popular +festivals or in masquerades. +</p> + +<p> +19. The famous Knights of King Arthur, who, being +all esteemed equal in valour and noble qualities, sat at +a round table, so that none should seem to have +precedence over the rest. +</p> + +<p> +20. The twelve peers of Charlemagne (les douze +pairs), chief among whom were Roland and Oliver. +</p> + +<p> +21. Chaucer speaks as if, at least for the purposes of +his poetry, he believed that Edward III. did not +establish a new, but only revived an old, chivalric +institution, when be founded the Order of the Garter. +</p> + +<p> +22. Laurer: laurel-tree; French, “laurier.” +</p> + +<p> +23. The meaning is: “Witness the practice of Rome, +that was the founder of all knighthood and marvellous +deeds; and I refer for corroboration to Titus Livius” — +who, in several passages, has mentioned the laurel +crown as the highest military honour. For instance, in +1. vii. c. 13, Sextus Tullius, remonstrating for the +army against the inaction in which it is kept, tells the +Dictator Sulpicius, “Duce te vincere cupimus; tibi +lauream insignem deferre; tecum triumphantes urbem +inire.” (“Commander, we want you to conquer; to +bring you the laurel insignia; to enter the city with you +in triumph”) +</p> + +<p> +24. Malebouche: Slander, personified under the title +of Evil-mouth — Italian, “Malbocca;” French, +“Malebouche.” +</p> + +<p> +25. Under support of them that list it read: the phrase +means — trusting to the goodwill of my reader. +</p> + +<p> +26. In press: into a crowd, into the press of +competitors for favour; not, it need hardly be said, +“into the press” in the modern sense — printing was +not invented for a century after this was written. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap34"></a>THE HOUSE OF FAME</h2> + +<p> +[Thanks partly to Pope’s brief and elegant paraphrase, in his +“Temple of Fame,” and partly to the familiar force of the style +and the satirical significance of the allegory, “The House of +Fame” is among the best known and relished of Chaucer’s minor +poems. The octosyllabic measure in which it is written — the +same which the author of “Hudibras” used with such admirable +effect — is excellently adapted for the vivid descriptions, the +lively sallies of humour and sarcasm, with which the poem +abounds; and when the poet actually does get to his subject, he +treats it with a zest, and a corresponding interest on the part of +the reader, which are scarcely surpassed by the best of The +Canterbury Tales. The poet, however, tarries long on the way +to the House of Fame; as Pope says in his advertisement, the +reader who would compare his with Chaucer’s poem, “may +begin with [Chaucer’s] third Book of Fame, there being nothing +in the two first books that answers to their title.” The first book +opens with a kind of prologue (actually so marked and called in +earlier editions) in which the author speculates on the causes of +dreams; avers that never any man had such a dream as he had +on the tenth of December; and prays the God of Sleep to help +him to interpret the dream, and the Mover of all things to +reward or afflict those readers who take the dream well or ill. +Then he relates that, having fallen asleep, he fancied himself +within a temple of glass — the abode of Venus — the walls of +which were painted with the story of Aeneas. The paintings are +described at length; and then the poet tells us that, coming out +of the temple, he found himself on a vast sandy plain, and saw +high in heaven an eagle, that began to descend towards him. +With the prologue, the first book numbers 508 lines; of which +192 only — more than are actually concerned with or directly +lead towards the real subject of the poem — are given here. The +second book, containing 582 lines, of which 176 will be found +in this edition, is wholly devoted to the voyage from the Temple +of Venus to the House of Fame, which the dreamer +accomplishes in the eagle’s claws. The bird has been sent by +Jove to do the poet some “solace” in reward of his labours for +the cause of Love; and during the transit through the air the +messenger discourses obligingly and learnedly with his human +burden on the theory of sound, by which all that is spoken must +needs reach the House of Fame; and on other matters suggested +by their errand and their observations by the way. The third +book (of 1080 lines, only a score of which, just at the outset, +have been omitted) brings us to the real pith of the poem. It +finds the poet close to the House of Fame, built on a rock of ice +engraved with names, many of which are half-melted away. +Entering the gorgeous palace, he finds all manner of minstrels +and historians; harpers, pipers, and trumpeters of fame; +magicians, jugglers, sorcerers, and many others. On a throne of +ruby sits the goddess, seeming at one moment of but a cubit’s +stature, at the next touching heaven; and at either hand, on +pillars, stand the great authors who “bear up the name” of +ancient nations. Crowds of people enter the hall from all regions +of earth, praying the goddess to give them good or evil fame, +with and without their own deserts; and they receive answers +favourable, negative, or contrary, according to the caprice of +Fame. Pursuing his researches further, out of the region of +reputation or fame proper into that of tidings or rumours, the +poet is led, by a man who has entered into conversation with +him, to a vast whirling house of twigs, ever open to the arrival +of tidings, ever full of murmurings, whisperings, and clatterings, +coming from the vast crowds that fill it — for every rumour, +every piece of news, every false report, appears there in the +shape of the person who utters it, or passes it on, down in earth. +Out at the windows innumerable, the tidings pass to Fame, who +gives to each report its name and duration; and in the house +travellers, pilgrims, pardoners, couriers, lovers, &c., make a +huge clamour. But here the poet meets with a man “of great +authority,” and, half afraid, awakes; skilfully — whether by +intention, fatigue, or accident — leaving the reader disappointed +by the nonfulfilment of what seemed to be promises of further +disclosures. The poem, not least in the passages the omission of +which has been dictated by the exigencies of the present +volume, is full of testimony to the vast acquaintance of Chaucer +with learning ancient and modern; Ovid, Virgil, Statius, are +equally at his command to illustrate his narrative or to furnish +the ground-work of his descriptions; while architecture, the +Arabic numeration, the theory of sound, and the effects of +gunpowder, are only a few among the topics of his own time of +which the poet treats with the ease of proficient knowledge. +Not least interesting are the vivid touches in which Chaucer +sketches the routine of his laborious and almost recluse daily +life; while the strength, individuality, and humour that mark the +didactic portion of the poem prove that “The House of Fame” +was one of the poet’s riper productions.] +</p> + +<p> +GOD turn us ev’ry dream to good!<br/> +For it is wonder thing, by the Rood,* *Cross <1><br/> +To my witte, what causeth swevens,* *dreams<br/> +Either on morrows or on evens;<br/> +And why th’effect followeth of some,<br/> +And of some it shall never come;<br/> +Why this is an avision<br/> +And this a revelation;<br/> +Why this a dream, why that a sweven,<br/> +And not to ev’ry man *like even;* *alike*<br/> +Why this a phantom, why these oracles,<br/> +I n’ot; but whoso of these miracles<br/> +The causes knoweth bet than I,<br/> +Divine* he; for I certainly *define<br/> +*Ne can them not,* nor ever think *do not know them*<br/> +To busy my wit for to swink* *labour<br/> +To know of their significance<br/> +The genders, neither the distance<br/> +Of times of them, nor the causes<br/> +For why that this more than that cause is;<br/> +Or if folke’s complexions<br/> +Make them dream of reflections;<br/> +Or elles thus, as others sayn,<br/> +For too great feebleness of the brain<br/> +By abstinence, or by sickness,<br/> +By prison, strife, or great distress,<br/> +Or elles by disordinance* *derangement<br/> +Of natural accustomance;* *mode of life<br/> +That some men be too curious<br/> +In study, or melancholious,<br/> +Or thus, so inly full of dread,<br/> +That no man may them *boote bede;* *afford them relief*<br/> +Or elles that devotion<br/> +Of some, and contemplation,<br/> +Causeth to them such dreames oft;<br/> +Or that the cruel life unsoft<br/> +Of them that unkind loves lead,<br/> +That often hope much or dread,<br/> +That purely their impressions<br/> +Cause them to have visions;<br/> +Or if that spirits have the might<br/> +To make folk to dream a-night;<br/> +Or if the soul, of *proper kind,* *its own nature*<br/> +Be so perfect as men find,<br/> +That it forewot* what is to come, *foreknows<br/> +And that it warneth all and some<br/> +Of ev’reach of their adventures,<br/> +By visions, or by figures,<br/> +But that our fleshe hath no might<br/> +To understanden it aright,<br/> +For it is warned too darkly;<br/> +But why the cause is, not wot I.<br/> +Well worth of this thing greate clerks, <2><br/> +That treat of this and other works;<br/> +For I of none opinion<br/> +Will as now make mention;<br/> +But only that the holy Rood<br/> +Turn us every dream to good.<br/> +For never since that I was born,<br/> +Nor no man elles me beforn,<br/> +Mette,* as I trowe steadfastly, *dreamed<br/> +So wonderful a dream as I,<br/> +The tenthe day now of December;<br/> +The which, as I can it remember,<br/> +I will you tellen ev’ry deal.* *whit +</p> + +<p> +But at my beginning, truste weel,* *well<br/> +I will make invocation,<br/> +With special devotion,<br/> +Unto the god of Sleep anon,<br/> +That dwelleth in a cave of stone, <3><br/> +Upon a stream that comes from Lete,<br/> +That is a flood of hell unsweet,<br/> +Beside a folk men call Cimmerie;<br/> +There sleepeth ay this god unmerry,<br/> +With his sleepy thousand sones,<br/> +That alway for to sleep their won* is; *wont, custom<br/> +And to this god, that I *of read,* *tell of*<br/> +Pray I, that he will me speed<br/> +My sweven for to tell aright,<br/> +If ev’ry dream stands in his might.<br/> +And he that Mover is of all<br/> +That is, and was, and ever shall,<br/> +So give them joye that it hear,<br/> +Of alle that they dream to-year;* *this year<br/> +And for to standen all in grace* *favour<br/> +Of their loves, or in what place<br/> +That them were liefest* for to stand, *most desired<br/> +And shield them from povert’ and shand,* *shame<br/> +And from ev’ry unhap and disease,<br/> +And send them all that may them please,<br/> +That take it well, and scorn it not,<br/> +Nor it misdeemen* in their thought, *misjudge<br/> +Through malicious intention;<br/> +And whoso, through presumption.<br/> +Or hate, or scorn, or through envy,<br/> +Despite, or jape,* or villainy, *jesting<br/> +Misdeem it, pray I Jesus God,<br/> +That dream he barefoot, dream he shod,<br/> +That ev’ry harm that any man<br/> +Hath had since that the world began,<br/> +Befall him thereof, ere he sterve,* *die<br/> +And grant that he may it deserve,* *earn, obtain<br/> +Lo! with such a conclusion<br/> +As had of his avision<br/> +Croesus, that was the king of Lyde,<4><br/> +That high upon a gibbet died;<br/> +This prayer shall he have of me;<br/> +I am *no bet in charity.* *no more charitable* +</p> + +<p> +Now hearken, as I have you said,<br/> +What that I mette ere I abraid,* *awoke<br/> +Of December the tenthe day;<br/> +When it was night to sleep I lay,<br/> +Right as I was wont for to do’n,<br/> +And fell asleepe wonder soon,<br/> +As he that *weary was for go*<5> *was weary from going*<br/> +On pilgrimage miles two<br/> +To the corsaint* Leonard, *relics of <6><br/> +To make lithe that erst was hard.<br/> +But, as I slept, me mette I was<br/> +Within a temple made of glass;<br/> +In which there were more images<br/> +Of gold, standing in sundry stages,<br/> +And more riche tabernacles,<br/> +And with pierrie* more pinnacles, *gems<br/> +And more curious portraitures,<br/> +And *quainte manner* of figures *strange kinds*<br/> +Of golde work, than I saw ever.<br/> +But, certainly, I wiste* never *knew<br/> +Where that it was, but well wist I<br/> +It was of Venus readily,<br/> +This temple; for in portraiture<br/> +I saw anon right her figure<br/> +Naked floating in a sea, <7><br/> +And also on her head, pardie,<br/> +Her rose garland white and red,<br/> +And her comb to comb her head,<br/> +Her doves, and Dan Cupido,<br/> +Her blinde son, and Vulcano, <8><br/> +That in his face was full brown. +</p> + +<p> +As he “roamed up and down,” the dreamer saw on the wall a +tablet of brass inscribed with the opening lines of the Aeneid; +while the whole story of Aeneas was told in the “portraitures” +and gold work. About three hundred and fifty lines are devoted +to the description; but they merely embody Virgil’s account of +Aeneas’ adventures from the destruction of Troy to his arrival in +Italy; and the only characteristic passage is the following +reflection, suggested by the death of Dido for her perfidious but +fate-compelled guest: +</p> + +<p> +Lo! how a woman doth amiss,<br/> +To love him that unknowen is!<br/> +For, by Christ, lo! thus it fareth,<br/> +It is not all gold that glareth.* *glitters<br/> +For, all so brook I well my head,<br/> +There may be under goodlihead* *fair appearance<br/> +Cover’d many a shrewed* vice; *cursed<br/> +Therefore let no wight be so nice* *foolish<br/> +To take a love only for cheer,* *looks<br/> +Or speech, or for friendly mannere;<br/> +For this shall ev’ry woman find,<br/> +That some man, *of his pure kind,* *by force of his nature<br/> +Will showen outward the fairest,<br/> +Till he have caught that which him lest;* *pleases<br/> +And then anon will causes find,<br/> +And sweare how she is unkind,<br/> +Or false, or privy* double was. *secretly<br/> +All this say I by* Aeneas *with reference to<br/> +And Dido, and her *nice lest,* *foolish pleasure*<br/> +That loved all too soon a guest;<br/> +Therefore I will say a proverb,<br/> +That he that fully knows the herb<br/> +May safely lay it to his eye;<br/> +Withoute dread,* this is no lie. *doubt +</p> + +<p> +When the dreamer had seen all the sights in the temple, he +became desirous to know who had worked all those wonders, +and in what country he was; so he resolved to go out at the +wicket, in search of somebody who might tell him. +</p> + +<p> +When I out at the doores came,<br/> +I fast aboute me beheld;<br/> +Then saw I but a large feld,* *open country<br/> +As far as that I mighte see,<br/> +WIthoute town, or house, or tree,<br/> +Or bush, or grass, or ered* land, *ploughed <9><br/> +For all the field was but of sand,<br/> +As small* as men may see it lie *fine<br/> +In the desert of Libye;<br/> +Nor no manner creature<br/> +That is formed by Nature,<br/> +There saw I, me to *rede or wiss.* *advise or direct*<br/> +“O Christ!” thought I, “that art in bliss,<br/> +From *phantom and illusion* *vain fancy and deception*<br/> +Me save!” and with devotion<br/> +Mine eyen to the heav’n I cast.<br/> +Then was I ware at the last<br/> +That, faste by the sun on high,<br/> +*As kennen might I* with mine eye, *as well as I might discern*<br/> +Me thought I saw an eagle soar,<br/> +But that it seemed muche more* *larger<br/> +Than I had any eagle seen;<br/> +This is as sooth as death, certain,<br/> +It was of gold, and shone so bright,<br/> +That never saw men such a sight,<br/> +But if* the heaven had y-won, *unless<br/> +All new from God, another sun;<br/> +So shone the eagle’s feathers bright:<br/> +And somewhat downward gan it light.* *descend, alight +</p> + +<p> +The Second Book opens with a brief invocation of Venus and +of Thought; then it proceeds: +</p> + +<p> +This eagle, of which I have you told,<br/> +That shone with feathers as of gold,<br/> +Which that so high began to soar,<br/> +I gan beholde more and more,<br/> +To see her beauty and the wonder;<br/> +But never was there dint of thunder,<br/> +Nor that thing that men calle foudre,* *thunderbolt<br/> +That smote sometimes a town to powder,<br/> +And in his swifte coming brenn’d,* *burned<br/> +That so swithe* gan descend, *rapidly<br/> +As this fowl, when that it beheld<br/> +That I a-roam was in the feld;<br/> +And with his grim pawes strong,<br/> +Within his sharpe nailes long,<br/> +Me, flying, at a swap* he hent,** *swoop *seized<br/> +And with his sours <10> again up went,<br/> +Me carrying in his clawes stark* *strong<br/> +As light as I had been a lark,<br/> +How high, I cannot telle you,<br/> +For I came up, I wist not how. +</p> + +<p> +The poet faints through bewilderment and fear; but the eagle, +speaking with the voice of a man, recalls him to himself, and +comforts him by the assurance that what now befalls him is for +his instruction and profit. Answering the poet’s unspoken +inquiry whether he is not to die otherwise, or whether Jove will +him stellify, the eagle says that he has been sent by Jupiter out +of his “great ruth,” +</p> + +<p> +“For that thou hast so truely<br/> +So long served ententively* *with attentive zeal<br/> +His blinde nephew* Cupido, *grandson<br/> +And faire Venus also,<br/> +Withoute guuerdon ever yet,<br/> +And natheless hast set thy wit<br/> +(Although that in thy head full lite* is) *little<br/> +To make bookes, songs, and ditties,<br/> +In rhyme or elles in cadence,<br/> +As thou best canst, in reverence<br/> +Of Love, and of his servants eke,<br/> +That have his service sought, and seek,<br/> +And pained thee to praise his art,<br/> +Although thou haddest never part; <11><br/> +Wherefore, all so God me bless,<br/> +Jovis holds it great humbless,<br/> +And virtue eke, that thou wilt make<br/> +A-night full oft thy head to ache,<br/> +In thy study so thou writest,<br/> +And evermore of love enditest,<br/> +In honour of him and praisings,<br/> +And in his folke’s furtherings,<br/> +And in their matter all devisest,* *relates<br/> +And not him nor his folk despisest,<br/> +Although thou may’st go in the dance<br/> +Of them that him list not advance.<br/> +Wherefore, as I said now, y-wis,<br/> +Jupiter well considers this;<br/> +And also, beausire,* other things; *good sir<br/> +That is, that thou hast no tidings<br/> +Of Love’s folk, if they be glad,<br/> +Nor of naught elles that God made;<br/> +And not only from far country<br/> +That no tidings come to thee,<br/> +But of thy very neighebours,<br/> +That dwellen almost at thy doors,<br/> +Thou hearest neither that nor this.<br/> +For when thy labour all done is,<br/> +And hast y-made thy reckonings, <12><br/> +Instead of rest and newe things,<br/> +Thou go’st home to thy house anon,<br/> +And, all so dumb as any stone,<br/> +Thou sittest at another book,<br/> +Till fully dazed* is thy look; *blinded<br/> +And livest thus as a hermite<br/> +Although thine abstinence is lite.”* <13> *little +</p> + +<p> +Therefore has Jove appointed the eagle to take the poet to the +House of Fame, to do him some pleasure in recompense for his +devotion to Cupid; and he will hear, says the bird, +</p> + +<p> +“When we be come there as I say,<br/> +More wondrous thinges, dare I lay,* *bet<br/> +Of Love’s folke more tidings,<br/> +Both *soothe sawes and leasings;* *true sayings and lies*<br/> +And more loves new begun,<br/> +And long y-served loves won,<br/> +And more loves casually<br/> +That be betid,* no man knows why, *happened by chance<br/> +But as a blind man starts a hare;<br/> +And more jollity and welfare,<br/> +While that they finde *love of steel,* *love true as steel*<br/> +As thinketh them, and over all weel;<br/> +More discords, and more jealousies,<br/> +More murmurs, and more novelties,<br/> +And more dissimulations,<br/> +And feigned reparations;<br/> +And more beardes, in two hours,<br/> +Withoute razor or scissours<br/> +Y-made, <14> than graines be of sands;<br/> +And eke more holding in hands,* *embracings<br/> +And also more renovelances* *renewings<br/> +Of old *forleten acquaintances;* *broken-off acquaintanceships*<br/> +More love-days,<15> and more accords,* *agreements<br/> +Than on instruments be chords;<br/> +And eke of love more exchanges<br/> +Than ever cornes were in granges.”* *barns +</p> + +<p> +The poet can scarcely believe that, though Fame had all the pies +[magpies] and all the spies in a kingdom, she should hear so +much; but the eagle proceeds to prove that she can. +</p> + +<p> +First shalt thou heare where she dwelleth;<br/> +And, so as thine own booke telleth, <16><br/> +Her palace stands, as I shall say,<br/> +Right ev’n in middes of the way<br/> +Betweene heav’n, and earth, and sea,<br/> +That whatsoe’er in all these three<br/> +Is spoken, *privy or apert,* *secretly or openly*<br/> +The air thereto is so overt,* *clear<br/> +And stands eke in so just* a place, *suitable<br/> +That ev’ry sound must to it pace,<br/> +Or whatso comes from any tongue,<br/> +Be it rowned,* read, or sung, *whispered<br/> +Or spoken in surety or dread,* *doubt<br/> +Certain *it must thither need.”* *it must needs go thither* +</p> + +<p> +The eagle, in a long discourse, demonstrates that, as all natural +things have a natural place towards which they move by natural +inclination, and as sound is only broken air, so every sound +must come to Fame’s House, “though it were piped of a mouse” +— on the same principle by which every part of a mass of water +is affected by the casting in of a stone. The poet is all the while +borne upward, entertained with various information by the bird; +which at last cries out — +</p> + +<p> +“Hold up thy head, for all is well!<br/> +Saint Julian, lo! bon hostel! <17><br/> +See here the House of Fame, lo<br/> +May’st thou not heare that I do?”<br/> +“What?” quoth I. “The greate soun’,”<br/> +Quoth he, “that rumbleth up and down<br/> +In Fame’s House, full of tidings,<br/> +Both of fair speech and of chidings,<br/> +And of false and sooth compouned;* *compounded, mingled<br/> +Hearken well; it is not rowned.* *whispered<br/> +Hearest thou not the greate swough?”* *confused sound<br/> +“Yes, pardie!” quoth I, “well enough.”<br/> +And what sound is it like?” quoth he<br/> +“Peter! the beating of the sea,”<br/> +Quoth I, “against the rockes hollow,<br/> +When tempests do the shippes swallow.<br/> +And let a man stand, out of doubt,<br/> +A mile thence, and hear it rout.* *roar<br/> +Or elles like the last humbling* *dull low distant noise<br/> +After the clap of a thund’ring,<br/> +When Jovis hath the air y-beat;<br/> +But it doth me for feare sweat.”<br/> +“Nay, dread thee not thereof,” quoth he;<br/> +“It is nothing will bite thee,<br/> +Thou shalt no harme have, truly.” +</p> + +<p> +And with that word both he and I<br/> +As nigh the place arrived were,<br/> +As men might caste with a spear.<br/> +I wist not how, but in a street<br/> +He set me fair upon my feet,<br/> +And saide: “Walke forth apace,<br/> +And take *thine adventure or case,* *thy chance of what<br/> +That thou shalt find in Fame’s place.” may befall*<br/> +“Now,” quoth I, “while we have space<br/> +To speak, ere that I go from thee,<br/> +For the love of God, as telle me,<br/> +In sooth, that I will of thee lear,* *learn<br/> +If this noise that I hear<br/> +Be, as I have heard thee tell,<br/> +Of folk that down in earthe dwell,<br/> +And cometh here in the same wise<br/> +As I thee heard, ere this, devise?<br/> +And that there living body n’is* *is not<br/> +In all that house that yonder is,<br/> +That maketh all this loude fare?”* *hubbub, ado<br/> +“No,” answered he, “by Saint Clare,<br/> +And all *so wisly God rede me;* *so surely god<br/> +But one thing I will warne thee, guide me*<br/> +Of the which thou wilt have wonder.<br/> +Lo! to the House of Fame yonder,<br/> +Thou know’st how cometh ev’ry speech;<br/> +It needeth not thee eft* to teach. *again<br/> +But understand now right well this;<br/> +When any speech y-comen is<br/> +Up to the palace, anon right<br/> +It waxeth* like the same wight** *becomes **person<br/> +Which that the word in earthe spake,<br/> +Be he cloth’d in red or black;<br/> +And so weareth his likeness,<br/> +And speaks the word, that thou wilt guess* *fancy<br/> +That it the same body be,<br/> +Whether man or woman, he or she.<br/> +And is not this a wondrous thing?”<br/> +“Yes,” quoth I then, “by Heaven’s king!”<br/> +And with this word, “Farewell,” quoth he,<br/> +And here I will abide* thee, *wait for<br/> +And God of Heaven send thee grace<br/> +Some good to learen* in this place.” *learn<br/> +And I of him took leave anon,<br/> +And gan forth to the palace go’n. +</p> + +<p> +At the opening of the Third Book, Chaucer briefly invokes +Apollo’s guidance, and entreats him, because “the rhyme is light +and lewd,” to “make it somewhat agreeable, though some verse +fail in a syllable.” If the god answers the prayer, the poet +promises to kiss the next laurel-tree <18> he sees; and he +proceeds: +</p> + +<p> +When I was from this eagle gone,<br/> +I gan behold upon this place;<br/> +And certain, ere I farther pace,<br/> +I will you all the shape devise* *describe<br/> +Of house and city; and all the wise<br/> +How I gan to this place approach,<br/> +That stood upon so high a roche,* *rock <19><br/> +Higher standeth none in Spain;<br/> +But up I climb’d with muche pain,<br/> +And though to climbe *grieved me,* *cost me painful effort*<br/> +Yet I ententive* was to see, *attentive<br/> +And for to pore* wondrous low, *gaze closely<br/> +If I could any wise know<br/> +What manner stone this rocke was,<br/> +For it was like a thing of glass,<br/> +But that it shone full more clear<br/> +But of what congealed mattere<br/> +It was, I wist not readily,<br/> +But at the last espied I,<br/> +And found that it was *ev’ry deal* *entirely*<br/> +A rock of ice, and not of steel.<br/> +Thought I, “By Saint Thomas of Kent, <20><br/> +This were a feeble fundament* *foundation<br/> +*To builden* a place so high; *on which to build<br/> +He ought him lite* to glorify *little<br/> +That hereon built, God so me save!” +</p> + +<p> +Then saw I all the half y-grave <21><br/> +With famous folke’s names fele,* *many<br/> +That hadde been in muche weal,* *good fortune<br/> +And their fames wide y-blow.<br/> +But well unnethes* might I know *scarcely<br/> +Any letters for to read<br/> +Their names by; for out of dread* *doubt<br/> +They were almost off thawed so,<br/> +That of the letters one or two<br/> +Were molt* away of ev’ry name, *melted<br/> +So unfamous was wox* their fame; *become<br/> +But men say, “What may ever last?”<br/> +Then gan I in my heart to cast* *conjecture<br/> +That they were molt away for heat,<br/> +And not away with stormes beat;<br/> +For on the other side I sey* *saw<br/> +Of this hill, that northward lay,<br/> +How it was written full of names<br/> +Of folke that had greate fames<br/> +Of olde times, and yet they were<br/> +As fresh as men had writ them there<br/> +The selfe day, right ere that hour<br/> +That I upon them gan to pore.<br/> +But well I wiste what it made;* *meant<br/> +It was conserved with the shade,<br/> +All the writing which I sigh,* *saw<br/> +Of a castle that stood on high;<br/> +And stood eke on so cold a place,<br/> +That heat might it not deface.* *injure, destroy +</p> + +<p> +Then gan I on this hill to go’n,<br/> +And found upon the cop* a won,** *summit <22> **house<br/> +That all the men that be alive<br/> +Have not the *cunning to descrive* *skill to describe*<br/> +The beauty of that like place,<br/> +Nor coulde *caste no compass* *find no contrivance*<br/> +Such another for to make,<br/> +That might of beauty be its make,* *match, equal<br/> +Nor one so wondrously y-wrought,<br/> +That it astonieth yet my thought,<br/> +And maketh all my wit to swink,* *labour<br/> +Upon this castle for to think;<br/> +So that the greate beauty,<br/> +Cast,* craft, and curiosity, *ingenuity<br/> +Ne can I not to you devise;* *describe<br/> +My witte may me not suffice.<br/> +But natheless all the substance<br/> +I have yet in my remembrance;<br/> +For why, me thoughte, by Saint Gile,<br/> +Alle was of stone of beryle,<br/> +Bothe the castle and the tow’r,<br/> +And eke the hall, and ev’ry bow’r,* *chamber<br/> +Withoute pieces or joinings,<br/> +But many subtile compassings,* *contrivances<br/> +As barbicans* and pinnacles, *watch-towers<br/> +Imageries and tabernacles,<br/> +I saw; and eke full of windows,<br/> +As flakes fall in greate snows.<br/> +And eke in each of the pinnacles<br/> +Were sundry habitacles,* *apartments or niches<br/> +In which stooden, all without,<br/> +Full the castle all about,<br/> +Of all manner of minstrales<br/> +And gestiours,<23> that telle tales<br/> +Both of weeping and of game,* *mirth<br/> +Of all that longeth unto Fame. +</p> + +<p> +There heard I play upon a harp,<br/> +That sounded bothe well and sharp,<br/> +Him, Orpheus, full craftily;<br/> +And on this side faste by<br/> +Satte the harper Arion,<24><br/> +And eke Aeacides Chiron <25><br/> +And other harpers many a one,<br/> +And the great Glasgerion; <26><br/> +And smalle harpers, with their glees,* *instruments<br/> +Satten under them in sees,* *seats<br/> +And gan on them upward to gape,<br/> +And counterfeit them as an ape,<br/> +Or as *craft counterfeiteth kind.* *art counterfeits nature*<br/> +Then saw I standing them behind,<br/> +Afar from them, all by themselve,<br/> +Many thousand times twelve,<br/> +That made loude minstrelsies<br/> +In cornmuse and eke in shawmies, <27><br/> +And in many another pipe,<br/> +That craftily began to pipe,<br/> +Both in dulcet <28> and in reed,<br/> +That be at feastes with the bride.<br/> +And many a flute and lilting horn,<br/> +And pipes made of greene corn,<br/> +As have these little herde-grooms,* *shepherd-boys<br/> +That keepe beastes in the brooms.<br/> +There saw I then Dan Citherus,<br/> +And of Athens Dan Pronomus, <29><br/> +And Marsyas <30> that lost his skin,<br/> +Both in the face, body, and chin,<br/> +For that he would envyen, lo!<br/> +To pipe better than Apollo.<br/> +There saw I famous, old and young,<br/> +Pipers of alle Dutche tongue, <31><br/> +To learne love-dances and springs,<br/> +Reyes, <32> and these strange things.<br/> +Then saw I in another place,<br/> +Standing in a large space,<br/> +Of them that make bloody* soun’, *martial<br/> +In trumpet, beam,* and clarioun; *horn <33><br/> +For in fight and blood-sheddings<br/> +Is used gladly clarionings.<br/> +There heard I trumpe Messenus. <34><br/> +Of whom speaketh Virgilius.<br/> +There heard I Joab trump also, <35><br/> +Theodamas, <36> and other mo’,<br/> +And all that used clarion<br/> +In Catalogne and Aragon,<br/> +That in their times famous were<br/> +To learne, saw I trumpe there.<br/> +There saw I sit in other sees,<br/> +Playing upon sundry glees,<br/> +Whiche that I cannot neven,* *name<br/> +More than starres be in heaven;<br/> +Of which I will not now rhyme,<br/> +For ease of you, and loss of time:<br/> +For time lost, this knowe ye,<br/> +By no way may recover’d be. +</p> + +<p> +There saw I play jongelours,* *jugglers <37><br/> +Magicians, and tregetours,<38><br/> +And Pythonesses, <39> charmeresses,<br/> +And old witches, and sorceresses,<br/> +That use exorcisations,<br/> +And eke subfumigations; <40><br/> +And clerkes* eke, which knowe well *scholars<br/> +All this magic naturel,<br/> +That craftily do their intents,<br/> +To make, in certain ascendents, <41><br/> +Images, lo! through which magic<br/> +To make a man be whole or sick.<br/> +There saw I the queen Medea, <42><br/> +And Circes <43> eke, and Calypsa.<44><br/> +There saw I Hermes Ballenus, <45><br/> +Limote, <46> and eke Simon Magus. <47><br/> +There saw I, and knew by name,<br/> +That by such art do men have fame.<br/> +There saw I Colle Tregetour <46><br/> +Upon a table of sycamore<br/> +Play an uncouth* thing to tell; *strange, rare<br/> +I saw him carry a windmell<br/> +Under a walnut shell.<br/> +Why should I make longer tale<br/> +Of all the people I there say,* *saw<br/> +From hence even to doomesday? +</p> + +<p> +When I had all this folk behold,<br/> +And found me *loose, and not y-hold,* *at liberty and unrestrained*<br/> +And I had mused longe while<br/> +Upon these walles of beryle,<br/> +That shone lighter than any glass,<br/> +And made *well more* than it was *much greater<br/> +To seemen ev’rything, y-wis,<br/> +As kindly* thing of Fame it is; <48> *natural<br/> +I gan forth roam until I fand* *found<br/> +The castle-gate on my right hand,<br/> +Which all so well y-carven was,<br/> +That never such another n’as;* *was not<br/> +And yet it was by Adventure* *chance<br/> +Y-wrought, and not by *subtile cure.* *careful art*<br/> +It needeth not you more to tell,<br/> +To make you too longe dwell,<br/> +Of these gates’ flourishings,<br/> +Nor of compasses,* nor carvings, *devices<br/> +Nor how they had in masonries,<br/> +As corbets, <49> full of imageries.<br/> +But, Lord! so fair it was to shew,<br/> +For it was all with gold behew.* *coloured<br/> +But in I went, and that anon;<br/> +There met I crying many a one<br/> +“A largess! largess! <50> hold up well!<br/> +God save the Lady of this pell,* *palace<br/> +Our owen gentle Lady Fame,<br/> +And them that will to have name<br/> +Of us!” Thus heard I cryen all,<br/> +And fast they came out of the hall,<br/> +And shooke *nobles and sterlings,* *coins <51><br/> +And some y-crowned were as kings,<br/> +With crownes wrought fall of lozenges;<br/> +And many ribands, and many fringes,<br/> +Were on their clothes truely<br/> +Then at the last espied I<br/> +That pursuivantes and herauds,* *heralds<br/> +That cry riche folke’s lauds,* *praises<br/> +They weren all; and ev’ry man<br/> +Of them, as I you telle can,<br/> +Had on him throwen a vesture<br/> +Which that men call a coat-armure, <52><br/> +Embroidered wondrously rich,<br/> +As though there were *naught y-lich;* *nothing like it*<br/> +But naught will I, so may I thrive,<br/> +*Be aboute to descrive* *concern myself with describing*<br/> +All these armes that there were,<br/> +That they thus on their coates bare,<br/> +For it to me were impossible;<br/> +Men might make of them a bible<br/> +Twenty foote thick, I trow.<br/> +For, certain, whoso coulde know<br/> +Might there all the armes see’n<br/> +Of famous folk that have been<br/> +In Afric’, Europe, and Asie,<br/> +Since first began the chivalry. +</p> + +<p> +Lo! how should I now tell all this?<br/> +Nor of the hall eke what need is<br/> +To telle you that ev’ry wall<br/> +Of it, and floor, and roof, and all,<br/> +Was plated half a foote thick<br/> +Of gold, and that was nothing wick’,* *counterfeit<br/> +But for to prove in alle wise<br/> +As fine as ducat of Venise, <53><br/> +Of which too little in my pouch is?<br/> +And they were set as thick of nouches* *ornaments<br/> +Fine, of the finest stones fair,<br/> +That men read in the Lapidaire, <54><br/> +As grasses growen in a mead.<br/> +But it were all too long to read* *declare<br/> +The names; and therefore I pass.<br/> +But in this rich and lusty place,<br/> +That Fame’s Hall y-called was,<br/> +Full muche press of folk there n’as,* *was not<br/> +Nor crowding for too muche press.<br/> +But all on high, above a dais,<br/> +Set on a see* imperial, <55> *seat<br/> +That made was of ruby all,<br/> +Which that carbuncle is y-call’d,<br/> +I saw perpetually install’d<br/> +A feminine creature;<br/> +That never formed by Nature<br/> +Was such another thing y-sey.* *seen<br/> +For altherfirst,* sooth to say, *first of all<br/> +Me thoughte that she was so lite,* *little<br/> +That the length of a cubite<br/> +Was longer than she seem’d to be;<br/> +But thus soon in a while she<br/> +Herself then wonderfully stretch’d,<br/> +That with her feet the earth she reach’d,<br/> +And with her head she touched heaven,<br/> +Where as shine the starres seven. <56><br/> +And thereto* eke, as to my wit, *moreover<br/> +I saw a greater wonder yet,<br/> +Upon her eyen to behold;<br/> +But certes I them never told.<br/> +For *as fele eyen* hadde she, *as many eyes*<br/> +As feathers upon fowles be,<br/> +Or were on the beastes four<br/> +That Godde’s throne gan honour,<br/> +As John writ in th’Apocalypse. <57><br/> +Her hair, that *oundy was and crips,* *wavy <58> and crisp*<br/> +As burnish’d gold it shone to see;<br/> +And, sooth to tellen, also she<br/> +Had all so fele* upstanding ears, *many<br/> +And tongues, as on beasts be hairs;<br/> +And on her feet waxen saw I<br/> +Partridges’ winges readily.<59><br/> +But, Lord! the pierrie* and richess *gems, jewellery<br/> +I saw sitting on this goddess,<br/> +And the heavenly melody<br/> +Of songes full of harmony,<br/> +I heard about her throne y-sung,<br/> +That all the palace walles rung!<br/> +(So sung the mighty Muse, she<br/> +That called is Calliope,<br/> +And her eight sisteren* eke, *sisters<br/> +That in their faces seeme meek);<br/> +And evermore eternally<br/> +They sang of Fame as then heard I:<br/> +“Heried* be thou and thy name, *praised<br/> +Goddess of Renown and Fame!”<br/> +Then was I ware, lo! at the last,<br/> +As I mine eyen gan upcast,<br/> +That this ilke noble queen<br/> +On her shoulders gan sustene* *sustain<br/> +Both the armes, and the name<br/> +Of those that hadde large fame;<br/> +Alexander, and Hercules,<br/> +That with a shirt his life lese.* <60> *lost<br/> +Thus found I sitting this goddess,<br/> +In noble honour and richess;<br/> +Of which I stint* a while now, *refrain (from speaking)<br/> +Of other things to telle you. +</p> + +<p> +Then saw I stand on either side,<br/> +Straight down unto the doores wide,<br/> +From the dais, many a pillere<br/> +Of metal, that shone not full clear;<br/> +But though they were of no richess,<br/> +Yet were they made for great nobless,<br/> +And in them greate sentence.* *significance<br/> +And folk of digne* reverence, *worthy, lofty<br/> +Of which *I will you telle fand,* *I will try to tell you*<br/> +Upon the pillars saw I stand.<br/> +Altherfirst, lo! there I sigh* *saw<br/> +Upon a pillar stand on high,<br/> +That was of lead and iron fine,<br/> +Him of the secte Saturnine, <61><br/> +The Hebrew Josephus the old,<br/> +That of Jewes’ gestes* told; *deeds of braver<br/> +And he bare on his shoulders high<br/> +All the fame up of Jewry.<br/> +And by him stooden other seven,<br/> +Full wise and worthy for to neven,* *name<br/> +To help him bearen up the charge,* *burden<br/> +It was so heavy and so large.<br/> +And, for they writen of battailes,<br/> +As well as other old marvailes,<br/> +Therefore was, lo! this pillere,<br/> +Of which that I you telle here,<br/> +Of lead and iron both, y-wis;<br/> +For iron Marte’s metal is, <62><br/> +Which that god is of battaile;<br/> +And eke the lead, withoute fail,<br/> +Is, lo! the metal of Saturn,<br/> +That hath full large wheel* to turn. *orbit<br/> +Then stoode forth, on either row,<br/> +Of them which I coulde know,<br/> +Though I them not by order tell,<br/> +To make you too longe dwell.<br/> +These, of the which I gin you read,<br/> +There saw I standen, out of dread,<br/> +Upon an iron pillar strong,<br/> +That painted was all endelong* *from top to bottom*<br/> +With tiger’s blood in ev’ry place,<br/> +The Tholosan that highte Stace, <63><br/> +That bare of Thebes up the name<br/> +Upon his shoulders, and the fame<br/> +Also of cruel Achilles.<br/> +And by him stood, withoute lease,* *falsehood<br/> +Full wondrous high on a pillere<br/> +Of iron, he, the great Homere;<br/> +And with him Dares and Dytus, <64><br/> +Before, and eke he, Lollius, <65><br/> +And Guido eke de Colempnis, <66><br/> +And English Gaufrid <67> eke, y-wis.<br/> +And each of these, as I have joy,<br/> +Was busy for to bear up Troy;<br/> +So heavy thereof was the fame,<br/> +That for to bear it was no game.<br/> +But yet I gan full well espy,<br/> +Betwixt them was a little envy.<br/> +One said that Homer made lies,<br/> +Feigning in his poetries,<br/> +And was to the Greeks favourable;<br/> +Therefore held he it but a fable.<br/> +Then saw I stand on a pillere<br/> +That was of tinned iron clear,<br/> +Him, the Latin poet Virgile,<br/> +That borne hath up a longe while<br/> +The fame of pious Aeneas.<br/> +And next him on a pillar was<br/> +Of copper, Venus’ clerk Ovide,<br/> +That hath y-sowen wondrous wide<br/> +The greate god of Love’s fame.<br/> +And there he bare up well his name<br/> +Upon this pillar all so high,<br/> +As I might see it with mine eye;<br/> +For why? this hall whereof I read<br/> +Was waxen in height, and length, and bread,* *breadth<br/> +Well more by a thousand deal* *times<br/> +Than it was erst, that saw I weel.<br/> +Then saw I on a pillar by,<br/> +Of iron wrought full sternely,<br/> +The greate poet, Dan Lucan,<br/> +That on his shoulders bare up than,<br/> +As high as that I might it see,<br/> +The fame of Julius and Pompey; <68><br/> +And by him stood all those clerks<br/> +That write of Rome’s mighty works,<br/> +That if I would their names tell,<br/> +All too longe must I dwell.<br/> +And next him on a pillar stood<br/> +Of sulphur, like as he were wood,* *mad<br/> +Dan Claudian, <69> the sooth to tell,<br/> +That bare up all the fame of hell,<br/> +Of Pluto, and of Proserpine,<br/> +That queen is of *the darke pine* *the dark realm of pain*<br/> +Why should I telle more of this?<br/> +The hall was alle fulle, y-wis,<br/> +Of them that writen olde gests,* *histories of great deeds<br/> +As be on trees rookes’ nests;<br/> +But it a full confus’d mattere<br/> +Were all these gestes for to hear,<br/> +That they of write, and how they hight.* *are called +</p> + +<p> + But while that I beheld this sight,<br/> +I heard a noise approache blive,* *quickly<br/> +That far’d* as bees do in a hive, *went<br/> +Against their time of outflying;<br/> +Right such a manner murmuring,<br/> +For all the world, it seem’d to me.<br/> +Then gan I look about, and see<br/> +That there came entering the hall<br/> +A right great company withal,<br/> +And that of sundry regions,<br/> +Of all kinds and conditions<br/> +That dwell in earth under the moon,<br/> +Both poor and rich; and all so soon<br/> +As they were come into the hall,<br/> +They gan adown on knees to fall,<br/> +Before this ilke* noble queen, *same<br/> +And saide, “Grant us, Lady sheen,* *bright, lovely<br/> +Each of us of thy grace a boon.”* *favour<br/> +And some of them she granted soon,<br/> +And some she warned* well and fair, *refused<br/> +And some she granted the contrair* *contrary<br/> +Of their asking utterly;<br/> +But this I say you truely,<br/> +What that her cause was, I n’ist;* *wist not, know not<br/> +For of these folk full well I wist,<br/> +They hadde good fame each deserved,<br/> +Although they were diversely served.<br/> +Right as her sister, Dame Fortune,<br/> +Is wont to serven *in commune.* *commonly, usually* +</p> + +<p> +Now hearken how she gan to pay<br/> +Them that gan of her grace to pray;<br/> +And right, lo! all this company<br/> +Saide sooth,* and not a lie. *truth<br/> +“Madame,” thus quoth they, “we be<br/> +Folk that here beseeche thee<br/> +That thou grant us now good fame,<br/> +And let our workes have good name<br/> +In full recompensatioun<br/> +Of good work, give us good renown<br/> +“I warn* it you,” quoth she anon; *refuse<br/> +“Ye get of me good fame none,<br/> +By God! and therefore go your way.”<br/> +“Alas,” quoth they, “and well-away!<br/> +Tell us what may your cause be.”<br/> +“For that it list* me not,” quoth she, *pleases<br/> +No wight shall speak of you, y-wis,<br/> +Good nor harm, nor that nor this.” +</p> + +<p> +And with that word she gan to call<br/> +Her messenger, that was in hall,<br/> +And bade that he should faste go’n,<br/> +Upon pain to be blind anon,<br/> +For Aeolus, the god of wind;<br/> +“In Thrace there ye shall him find,<br/> +And bid him bring his clarioun,<br/> +That is full diverse of his soun’,<br/> +And it is called Cleare Laud,<br/> +With which he wont is to heraud* *proclaim<br/> +Them that me list y-praised be,<br/> +And also bid him how that he<br/> +Bring eke his other clarioun,<br/> +That hight* Slander in ev’ry town, *is called<br/> +With which he wont is to diffame* *defame, disparage<br/> +Them that me list, and do them shame.”<br/> +This messenger gan faste go’n,<br/> +And found where, in a cave of stone,<br/> +In a country that highte Thrace,<br/> +This Aeolus, *with harde grace,* *Evil favour attend him!*<br/> +Helde the windes in distress,* *constraint<br/> +And gan them under him to press,<br/> +That they began as bears to roar,<br/> +He bound and pressed them so sore.<br/> +This messenger gan fast to cry,<br/> +“Rise up,” quoth he, “and fast thee hie,<br/> +Until thou at my Lady be,<br/> +And take thy clarions eke with thee,<br/> +And speed thee forth.” And he anon<br/> +Took to him one that hight Triton, <70><br/> +His clarions to beare tho,* *then<br/> +And let a certain winde go,<br/> +That blew so hideously and high,<br/> +That it lefte not a sky* *cloud <71><br/> +In all the welkin* long and broad. *sky<br/> +This Aeolus nowhere abode* *delayed<br/> +Till he was come to Fame’s feet,<br/> +And eke the man that Triton hete,* *is called<br/> +And there he stood as still as stone. +</p> + +<p> +And therewithal there came anon<br/> +Another huge company<br/> +Of goode folk, and gan to cry,<br/> +“Lady, grant us goode fame,<br/> +And let our workes have that name,<br/> +Now in honour of gentleness;<br/> +And all so God your soule bless;<br/> +For we have well deserved it,<br/> +Therefore is right we be well quit.”* *requited<br/> +“As thrive I,” quoth she, “ye shall fail;<br/> +Good workes shall you not avail<br/> +To have of me good fame as now;<br/> +But, wot ye what, I grante you.<br/> +That ye shall have a shrewde* fame, *evil, cursed<br/> +And wicked los,* and worse name, *reputation <72><br/> +Though ye good los have well deserv’d;<br/> +Now go your way, for ye be serv’d.<br/> +And now, Dan Aeolus,” quoth she,<br/> +“Take forth thy trump anon, let see,<br/> +That is y-called Slander light,<br/> +And blow their los, that ev’ry wight<br/> +Speak of them harm and shrewedness,* *wickedness, malice<br/> +Instead of good and worthiness;<br/> +For thou shalt trump all the contrair<br/> +Of that they have done, well and fair.”<br/> +Alas! thought I, what adventures* *(evil) fortunes<br/> +Have these sorry creatures,<br/> +That they, amonges all the press,<br/> +Should thus be shamed guilteless?<br/> +But what! it muste needes be.<br/> +What did this Aeolus, but he<br/> +Took out his blacke trump of brass,<br/> +That fouler than the Devil was,<br/> +And gan this trumpet for to blow,<br/> +As all the world ’t would overthrow.<br/> +Throughout every regioun<br/> +Went this foule trumpet’s soun’,<br/> +As swift as pellet out of gun<br/> +When fire is in the powder run.<br/> +And such a smoke gan out wend,* *go<br/> +Out of this foule trumpet’s end,<br/> +Black, blue, greenish, swart,* and red, *black <73><br/> +As doth when that men melt lead,<br/> +Lo! all on high from the tewell;* *chimney <74><br/> +And thereto* one thing saw I well, *also<br/> +That the farther that it ran,<br/> +The greater waxen it began,<br/> +As doth the river from a well,* *fountain<br/> +And it stank as the pit of hell.<br/> +Alas! thus was their shame y-rung,<br/> +And guilteless, on ev’ry tongue. +</p> + +<p> +Then came the thirde company,<br/> +And gan up to the dais to hie,* *hasten<br/> +And down on knees they fell anon,<br/> +And saide, “We be ev’ry one<br/> +Folk that have full truely<br/> +Deserved fame right fully,<br/> +And pray you that it may be know<br/> +Right as it is, and forth y-blow.”<br/> +“I grante,” quoth she, “for me list<br/> +That now your goode works be wist;* *known<br/> +And yet ye shall have better los,<br/> +In despite of all your foes,<br/> +Than worthy* is, and that anon. *merited<br/> +Let now,” quoth she, “thy trumpet go’n,<br/> +Thou Aeolus, that is so black,<br/> +And out thine other trumpet take,<br/> +That highte Laud, and blow it so<br/> +That through the world their fame may go,<br/> +Easily and not too fast,<br/> +That it be knowen at the last.”<br/> +“Full gladly, Lady mine,” he said;<br/> +And out his trump of gold he braid* *pulled forth<br/> +Anon, and set it to his mouth,<br/> +And blew it east, and west, and south,<br/> +And north, as loud as any thunder,<br/> +That ev’ry wight had of it wonder,<br/> +So broad it ran ere that it stent.* *ceased<br/> +And certes all the breath that went<br/> +Out of his trumpet’s mouthe smell’d<br/> +As* men a pot of balme held *as if<br/> +Among a basket full of roses;<br/> +This favour did he to their loses.* *reputations +</p> + +<p> +And right with this I gan espy<br/> +Where came the fourthe company.<br/> +But certain they were wondrous few;<br/> +And gan to standen in a rew,* *row<br/> +And saide, “Certes, Lady bright,<br/> +We have done well with all our might,<br/> +But we *not keep* to have fame; *care not<br/> +Hide our workes and our name,<br/> +For Godde’s love! for certes we<br/> +Have surely done it for bounty,* *goodness, virtue<br/> +And for no manner other thing.”<br/> +“I grante you all your asking,”<br/> +Quoth she; “let your workes be dead.” +</p> + +<p> +With that I turn’d about my head,<br/> +And saw anon the fifthe rout,* *company<br/> +That to this Lady gan to lout,* *bow down<br/> +And down on knees anon to fall;<br/> +And to her then besoughten all<br/> +To hide their good workes eke,<br/> +And said, they gave* not a leek *cared<br/> +For no fame, nor such renown;<br/> +For they for contemplatioun<br/> +And Godde’s love had y-wrought,<br/> +Nor of fame would they have aught.<br/> +“What!” quoth she, “and be ye wood?<br/> +And *weene ye* for to do good, *do ye imagine*<br/> +And for to have of that no fame?<br/> +*Have ye despite* to have my name? *do ye despise*<br/> +Nay, ye shall lie every one!<br/> +Blow thy trump, and that anon,”<br/> +Quoth she, “thou Aeolus, I hote,* *command<br/> +And ring these folkes works by note,<br/> +That all the world may of it hear.”<br/> +And he gan blow their los* so clear *reputation<br/> +Within his golden clarioun,<br/> +That through the worlde went the soun’,<br/> +All so kindly, and so soft,<br/> +That their fame was blown aloft. +</p> + +<p> +And then came the sixth company,<br/> +And gunnen* fast on Fame to cry; *began<br/> +Right verily in this mannere<br/> +They saide; “Mercy, Lady dear!<br/> +To telle certain as it is,<br/> +We have done neither that nor this,<br/> +But idle all our life hath be;* *been<br/> +But natheless yet praye we<br/> +That we may have as good a fame,<br/> +And great renown, and knowen* name, *well-known<br/> +As they that have done noble gests,* *feats.<br/> +And have achieved all their quests,* *enterprises; desires<br/> +As well of Love, as other thing;<br/> +All* was us never brooch, nor ring, *although<br/> +Nor elles aught from women sent,<br/> +Nor ones in their hearte meant<br/> +To make us only friendly cheer,<br/> +But mighte *teem us upon bier;* *might lay us on our bier<br/> +Yet let us to the people seem (by their adverse demeanour)*<br/> +Such as the world may of us deem,* *judge<br/> +That women loven us for wood.* *madly<br/> +It shall us do as muche good,<br/> +And to our heart as much avail,<br/> +The counterpoise,* ease, and travail, *compensation<br/> +As we had won it with labour;<br/> +For that is deare bought honour,<br/> +*At the regard of* our great ease. *in comparison with*<br/> +*And yet* ye must us more please; *in addition*<br/> +Let us be holden eke thereto<br/> +Worthy, and wise, and good also,<br/> +And rich, and happy unto love,<br/> +For Godde’s love, that sits above;<br/> +Though we may not the body have<br/> +Of women, yet, so God you save,<br/> +Let men glue* on us the name; *fasten<br/> +Sufficeth that we have the fame.”<br/> +“I grante,” quoth she, “by my troth;<br/> +Now Aeolus, withoute sloth,<br/> +Take out thy trump of gold,” quoth she,<br/> +“And blow as they have asked me,<br/> +That ev’ry man ween* them at ease, *believe<br/> +Although they go in full *bad leas.”* *sorry plight*<br/> +This Aeolus gan it so blow,<br/> +That through the world it was y-know. +</p> + +<p> +Then came the seventh rout anon,<br/> +And fell on knees ev’ry one,<br/> +And saide, “Lady, grant us soon<br/> +The same thing, the same boon,<br/> +Which *this next folk* you have done.” *the people just before us*<br/> +“Fy on you,” quoth she, “ev’ry one!<br/> +Ye nasty swine, ye idle wretches,<br/> +Full fill’d of rotten slowe tetches!* *blemishes <75><br/> +What? false thieves! ere ye would<br/> +*Be famous good,* and nothing n’ould *have good fame*<br/> +Deserve why, nor never raught,* *recked, cared (to do so)<br/> +Men rather you to hangen ought.<br/> +For ye be like the sleepy cat,<br/> +That would have fish; but, know’st thou what?<br/> +He woulde no thing wet his claws.<br/> +Evil thrift come to your jaws,<br/> +And eke to mine, if I it grant,<br/> +Or do favour you to avaunt.* *boast your deeds<br/> +Thou Aeolus, thou King of Thrace,<br/> +Go, blow this folk a *sorry grace,”* *disgrace<br/> +Quoth she, “anon; and know’st thou how?<br/> +As I shall telle thee right now,<br/> +Say, these be they that would honour<br/> +Have, and do no kind of labour,<br/> +Nor do no good, and yet have laud,<br/> +And that men ween’d that Belle Isaude <76><br/> +*Could them not of love wern;* *could not refuse them her love*<br/> +And yet she that grinds at the quern* *mill <77><br/> +Is all too good to ease their heart.”<br/> +This Aeolus anon upstart,<br/> +And with his blacke clarioun<br/> +He gan to blazen out a soun’<br/> +As loud as bellows wind in hell;<br/> +And eke therewith, the sooth to tell,<br/> +This sounde was so full of japes,* *jests<br/> +As ever were mows* in apes; *grimaces<br/> +And that went all the world about,<br/> +That ev’ry wight gan on them shout,<br/> +And for to laugh as they were wood;* *mad<br/> +*Such game found they in their hood.* <78> *so were they ridiculed* +</p> + +<p> +Then came another company,<br/> +That hadde done the treachery,<br/> +The harm, and the great wickedness,<br/> +That any hearte coulde guess;<br/> +And prayed her to have good fame,<br/> +And that she would do them no shame,<br/> +But give them los and good renown,<br/> +And *do it blow* in clarioun. *cause it to be blown*<br/> +“Nay, wis!” quoth she, “it were a vice;<br/> +All be there in me no justice,<br/> +Me liste not to do it now,<br/> +Nor this will I grant to you.” +</p> + +<p> +Then came there leaping in a rout,* *crowd<br/> +And gan to clappen* all about *strike, knock<br/> +Every man upon the crown,<br/> +That all the hall began to soun’;<br/> +And saide; “Lady lefe* and dear, *loved<br/> +We be such folk as ye may hear.<br/> +To tellen all the tale aright,<br/> +We be shrewes* every wight, *wicked, impious people<br/> +And have delight in wickedness,<br/> +As goode folk have in goodness,<br/> +And joy to be y-knowen shrews,<br/> +And full of vice and *wicked thews;* *evil qualities*<br/> +Wherefore we pray you *on a row,* *all together*<br/> +That our fame be such y-know<br/> +In all things right as it is.”<br/> +“I grant it you,” quoth she, “y-wis.<br/> +But what art thou that say’st this tale,<br/> +That wearest on thy hose a pale,* *vertical stripe<br/> +And on thy tippet such a bell?”<br/> +“Madame,” quoth he, “sooth to tell,<br/> +I am *that ilke shrew,* y-wis, *the same wretch*<br/> +That burnt the temple of Isidis,<br/> +In Athenes, lo! that city.” <79><br/> +“And wherefore didst thou so?” quoth she.<br/> +“By my thrift!” quoth he, “Madame,<br/> +I woulde fain have had a name<br/> +As other folk had in the town;<br/> +Although they were of great renown<br/> +For their virtue and their thews,* *good qualities<br/> +Thought I, as great fame have shrews<br/> +(Though it be naught) for shrewdeness,<br/> +As good folk have for goodeness;<br/> +And since I may not have the one,<br/> +The other will I not forgo’n.<br/> +So for to gette *fame’s hire,* *the reward of fame*<br/> +The temple set I all afire.<br/> +*Now do our los be blowen swithe,<br/> +As wisly be thou ever blithe.”* *see note <80><br/> +“Gladly,” quoth she; “thou Aeolus,<br/> +Hear’st thou what these folk prayen us?”<br/> +“Madame, I hear full well,” quoth he,<br/> +“And I will trumpen it, pardie!”<br/> +And took his blacke trumpet fast,<br/> +And gan to puffen and to blast,<br/> +Till it was at the worlde’s end. +</p> + +<p> +With that I gan *aboute wend,* *turn*<br/> +For one that stood right at my back<br/> +Me thought full goodly* to me spake, *courteously, fairly<br/> +And saide, “Friend, what is thy name?<br/> +Art thou come hither to have fame?”<br/> +“Nay, *for soothe,* friend!” quoth I; *surely*<br/> +“I came not hither, *grand mercy,* *great thanks*<br/> +For no such cause, by my head!<br/> +Sufficeth me, as I were dead,<br/> +That no wight have my name in hand.<br/> +I wot myself best how I stand,<br/> +For what I dree,* or what I think, *suffer<br/> +I will myself it alle drink,<br/> +Certain, for the more part,<br/> +As far forth as I know mine art.”<br/> +“What doest thou here, then,” quoth he.<br/> +Quoth I, “That will I telle thee;<br/> +The cause why I stande here,<br/> +Is some new tidings for to lear,* *learn<br/> +Some newe thing, I know not what,<br/> +Tidings either this or that,<br/> +Of love, or suche thinges glad.<br/> +For, certainly, he that me made<br/> +To come hither, said to me<br/> +I shoulde bothe hear and see<br/> +In this place wondrous things;<br/> +But these be not such tidings<br/> +As I meant of.” “No?” quoth he.<br/> +And I answered, “No, pardie!<br/> +For well I wot ever yet,<br/> +Since that first I hadde wit,<br/> +That some folk have desired fame<br/> +Diversely, and los, and name;<br/> +But certainly I knew not how<br/> +Nor where that Fame dwelled, ere now<br/> +Nor eke of her description,<br/> +Nor also her condition,<br/> +Nor *the order of her doom,* *the principle of her judgments*<br/> +Knew I not till I hither come.”<br/> +“Why, then, lo! be these tidings,<br/> +That thou nowe hither brings,<br/> +That thou hast heard?” quoth he to me.<br/> +“But now *no force,* for well I see *no matter*<br/> +What thou desirest for to lear.”<br/> +Come forth, and stand no longer here.<br/> +And I will thee, withoute dread,* *doubt<br/> +Into another place lead,<br/> +Where thou shalt hear many a one.” +</p> + +<p> +Then gan I forth with him to go’n<br/> +Out of the castle, sooth to say.<br/> +Then saw I stand in a vally,<br/> +Under the castle faste by,<br/> +A house, that domus Daedali,<br/> +That Labyrinthus <81> called is,<br/> +N’as* made so wondrously, y-wis, *was not<br/> +Nor half so quaintly* was y-wrought. *strangely<br/> +And evermore, as swift as thought,<br/> +This quainte* house aboute went, *strange<br/> +That nevermore it *stille stent;* *ceased to move*<br/> +And thereout came so great a noise,<br/> +That had it stooden upon Oise, <82><br/> +Men might have heard it easily<br/> +To Rome, I *trowe sickerly.* *confidently believe*<br/> +And the noise which I heard,<br/> +For all the world right so it far’d<br/> +As doth the routing* of the stone *rushing noise*<br/> +That from the engine<83> is let go’n.<br/> +And all this house of which I read* *tell you<br/> +Was made of twigges sallow,* red, *willow<br/> +And green eke, and some were white,<br/> +Such as men *to the cages twight,* *pull to make cages*<br/> +Or maken of these panniers,<br/> +Or elles hutches or dossers;* *back-baskets<br/> +That, for the swough* and for the twigs, *rushing noise<br/> +This house was all so full of gigs,* *sounds of wind<br/> +And all so full eke of chirkings,* *creakings<br/> +And of many other workings;<br/> +And eke this house had of entries<br/> +As many as leaves be on trees,<br/> +In summer when that they be green,<br/> +And on the roof men may yet see’n<br/> +A thousand holes, and well mo’,<br/> +To let the soundes oute go.<br/> +And by day *in ev’ry tide* *continually*<br/> +Be all the doores open wide,<br/> +And by night each one unshet;* *unshut, open<br/> +Nor porter there is none to let* *hinder<br/> +No manner tidings in to pace;<br/> +Nor ever rest is in that place,<br/> +That it n’is* fill’d full of tidings, *is not<br/> +Either loud, or of whisperings;<br/> +And ever all the house’s angles<br/> +Are full of *rownings and of jangles,* *whisperings and chatterings*<br/> +Of wars, of peace, of marriages,<br/> +Of rests, of labour, of voyages,<br/> +Of abode, of death, of life,<br/> +Of love, of hate, accord, of strife,<br/> +Of loss, of lore, and of winnings,<br/> +Of health, of sickness, of buildings,<br/> +Of faire weather and tempests,<br/> +Of qualm* of folkes and of beasts; *sickness<br/> +Of divers transmutations<br/> +Of estates and of regions;<br/> +Of trust, of dread,* of jealousy, *doubt<br/> +Of wit, of cunning, of folly,<br/> +Of plenty, and of great famine,<br/> +Of *cheap, of dearth,* and of ruin; *cheapness & dearness (of food)*<br/> +Of good or of mis-government,<br/> +Of fire, and diverse accident.<br/> +And lo! this house of which I write,<br/> +*Sicker be ye,* it was not lite;* *be assured* *small<br/> +For it was sixty mile of length,<br/> +All* was the timber of no strength; *although<br/> +Yet it is founded to endure,<br/> +*While that it list to Adventure,* *while fortune pleases*<br/> +That is the mother of tidings,<br/> +As is the sea of wells and springs;<br/> +And it was shapen like a cage.<br/> +“Certes,” quoth I, “in all mine age,* *life<br/> +Ne’er saw I such a house as this.” +</p> + +<p> +And as I wonder’d me, y-wis,<br/> +Upon this house, then ware was I<br/> +How that mine eagle, faste by,<br/> +Was perched high upon a stone;<br/> +And I gan straighte to him go’n,<br/> +And saide thus; “I praye thee<br/> +That thou a while abide* me, *wait for<br/> +For Godde’s love, and let me see<br/> +What wonders in this place be;<br/> +For yet parauntre* I may lear** *peradventure **learn<br/> +Some good thereon, or somewhat hear,<br/> +That *lefe me were,* ere that I went.” *were pleasing to me*<br/> +“Peter! that is mine intent,”<br/> +Quoth he to me; “therefore I dwell;* *tarry<br/> +But, certain, one thing I thee tell,<br/> +That, but* I bringe thee therein, *unless<br/> +Thou shalt never *can begin* *be able*<br/> +To come into it, out of doubt,<br/> +So fast it whirleth, lo! about.<br/> +But since that Jovis, of his grace,<br/> +As I have said, will thee solace<br/> +Finally with these ilke* things, *same<br/> +These uncouth sightes and tidings,<br/> +To pass away thy heaviness,<br/> +Such ruth* hath he of thy distress *compassion<br/> +That thou suff’rest debonairly,* *gently<br/> +And know’st thyselven utterly<br/> +Desperate of alle bliss,<br/> +Since that Fortune hath made amiss<br/> +The fruit of all thy hearte’s rest<br/> +Languish, and eke *in point to brest;* *on the point of breaking*<br/> +But he, through his mighty merite,<br/> +Will do thee ease, all be it lite,* *little<br/> +And gave express commandement,<br/> +To which I am obedient,<br/> +To further thee with all my might,<br/> +And wiss* and teache thee aright, *direct<br/> +Where thou may’st moste tidings hear,<br/> +Shalt thou anon many one lear.” +</p> + +<p> +And with this word he right anon<br/> +Hent* me up betwixt his tone,** *caught **toes<br/> +And at a window in me brought,<br/> +That in this house was, as me thought;<br/> +And therewithal me thought it stent,* *stopped<br/> +And nothing it aboute went;<br/> +And set me in the floore down.<br/> +But such a congregatioun<br/> +Of folk, as I saw roam about,<br/> +Some within and some without,<br/> +Was never seen, nor shall be eft,* *again, hereafter<br/> +That, certes, in the world n’ is* left *is not<br/> +So many formed by Nature,<br/> +Nor dead so many a creature,<br/> +That well unnethes* in that place *scarcely<br/> +Had I a foote breadth of space;<br/> +And ev’ry wight that I saw there<br/> +Rown’d* evereach in other’s ear *whispered<br/> +A newe tiding privily,<br/> +Or elles told all openly<br/> +Right thus, and saide, “Know’st not thou<br/> +What is betid,* lo! righte now?” *happened<br/> +“No,” quoth he; “telle me what.”<br/> +And then he told him this and that,<br/> +And swore thereto, that it was sooth;<br/> +“Thus hath he said,” and “Thus he do’th,”<br/> +And “Thus shall ’t be,” and “Thus heard I say<br/> +“That shall be found, that dare I lay;”* *wager<br/> +That all the folk that is alive<br/> +Have not the cunning to descrive* *describe<br/> +The thinges that I hearde there,<br/> +What aloud, and what in th’ear.<br/> +But all the wonder most was this;<br/> +When one had heard a thing, y-wis,<br/> +He came straight to another wight,<br/> +And gan him tellen anon right<br/> +The same tale that to him was told,<br/> +Or it a furlong way was old, <84><br/> +And gan somewhat for to eche* *eke, add<br/> +To this tiding in his speech,<br/> +More than it ever spoken was.<br/> +And not so soon departed n’as* *was<br/> +He from him, than that he met<br/> +With the third; and *ere he let<br/> +Any stound,* he told him als’; *without delaying a momen*<br/> +Were the tidings true or false,<br/> +Yet would he tell it natheless,<br/> +And evermore with more increase<br/> +Than it was erst.* Thus north and south *at first<br/> +Went ev’ry tiding from mouth to mouth,<br/> +And that increasing evermo’,<br/> +As fire is wont to *quick and go* *become alive, and spread*<br/> +From a spark y-sprung amiss,<br/> +Till all a city burnt up is.<br/> +And when that it was full up-sprung,<br/> +And waxen* more on ev’ry tongue *increased<br/> +Than e’er it was, it went anon<br/> +Up to a window out to go’n;<br/> +Or, but it mighte thereout pass,<br/> +It gan creep out at some crevass,* *crevice, chink<br/> +And fly forth faste for the nonce.<br/> +And sometimes saw I there at once<br/> +*A leasing, and a sad sooth saw,* *a falsehood and an earnest<br/> +That gan *of adventure* draw true saying* *by chance<br/> +Out at a window for to pace;<br/> +And when they metten in that place,<br/> +They were checked both the two,<br/> +And neither of them might out go;<br/> +For other so they gan *to crowd,* *push, squeeze, each other*<br/> +Till each of them gan cryen loud,<br/> +“Let me go first!” — “Nay, but let me!<br/> +And here I will ensure thee,<br/> +With vowes, if thou wilt do so,<br/> +That I shall never from thee go,<br/> +But be thine owen sworen brother!<br/> +We will us medle* each with other, *mingle<br/> +That no man, be he ne’er so wroth,<br/> +Shall have one of us two, but both<br/> +At ones, as *beside his leave,* *despite his desire*<br/> +Come we at morning or at eve,<br/> +Be we cried or *still y-rowned.”* *quietly whispered*<br/> +Thus saw I false and sooth, compouned,* *compounded<br/> +Together fly for one tiding.<br/> +Then out at holes gan to wring* *squeeze, struggle<br/> +Every tiding straight to Fame;<br/> +And she gan give to each his name<br/> +After her disposition,<br/> +And gave them eke duration,<br/> +Some to wax and wane soon,<br/> +As doth the faire white moon;<br/> +And let them go. There might I see<br/> +Winged wonders full fast flee,<br/> +Twenty thousand in a rout,* *company<br/> +As Aeolus them blew about.<br/> +And, Lord! this House in alle times<br/> +Was full of shipmen and pilgrimes, <85><br/> +With *scrippes bretfull of leasings,* *wallets brimful of falsehoods*<br/> +Entremedled with tidings* *true stories<br/> +And eke alone by themselve.<br/> +And many thousand times twelve<br/> +Saw I eke of these pardoners,<86><br/> +Couriers, and eke messengers,<br/> +With boistes* crammed full of lies *boxes<br/> +As ever vessel was with lyes.* *lees of wine<br/> +And as I altherfaste* went *with all speed<br/> +About, and did all mine intent<br/> +Me *for to play and for to lear,* *to amuse and instruct myself*<br/> +And eke a tiding for to hear<br/> +That I had heard of some country,<br/> +That shall not now be told for me; —<br/> +For it no need is, readily;<br/> +Folk can sing it better than I.<br/> +For all must out, or late or rath,* *soon<br/> +All the sheaves in the lath;* *barn <87><br/> +I heard a greate noise withal<br/> +In a corner of the hall,<br/> +Where men of love tidings told;<br/> +And I gan thitherward behold,<br/> +For I saw running ev’ry wight<br/> +As fast as that they hadde might,<br/> +And ev’reach cried, “What thing is that?”<br/> +And some said, “I know never what.”<br/> +And when they were all on a heap,<br/> +Those behinde gan up leap,<br/> +And clomb* upon each other fast, <88> *climbed<br/> +And up the noise on high they cast,<br/> +And trodden fast on others’ heels,<br/> +And stamp’d, as men do after eels. +</p> + +<p> +But at the last I saw a man,<br/> +Which that I not describe can;<br/> +But that he seemed for to be<br/> +A man of great authority.<br/> +And therewith I anon abraid* *awoke<br/> +Out of my sleepe, half afraid;<br/> +Rememb’ring well what I had seen,<br/> +And how high and far I had been<br/> +In my ghost; and had great wonder<br/> +Of what the mighty god of thunder<br/> +Had let me know; and gan to write<br/> +Like as ye have me heard endite.<br/> +Wherefore to study and read alway<br/> +I purpose to do day by day.<br/> +And thus, in dreaming and in game,<br/> +Endeth this little book of Fame. +</p> + +<p> +Here endeth the Book of Fame +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to The House of Fame +</p> + +<p> +1. Rood: the cross on which Christ was crucified; Anglo-Saxon, +“Rode.” +</p> + +<p> +2. Well worth of this thing greate clerks: Great scholars set +much worth upon this thing — that is, devote much labour, +attach much importance, to the subject of dreams. +</p> + +<p> +3. The poet briefly refers to the description of the House of +Somnus, in Ovid’s “Metamorphoses,” 1. xi. 592, et seqq.; where +the cave of Somnus is said to be “prope Cimmerios,” (“near the +Cimmerians”) and “Saxo tamen exit ab imo Rivus aquae +Lethes.” (“A stream of Lethe’s water issues from the base of the +rock”) +</p> + +<p> +4. See the account of the vision of Croesus in The Monk’s Tale. +</p> + +<p> +5. The meaning of the allusion is not clear; but the story of the +pilgrims and the peas is perhaps suggested by the line following +— “to make lithe [soft] what erst was hard.” St Leonard was the +patron of captives. +</p> + +<p> +5. Corsaint: The “corpus sanctum” — the holy body, or relics, +preserved in the shrine. +</p> + +<p> +7. So, in the Temple of Venus described in The Knight’s Tale, +the Goddess is represented as “naked floating in the large sea”. +</p> + +<p> +8. Vulcano: Vulcan, the husband of Venus. +</p> + +<p> +9. Ered: ploughed; Latin, “arare,” Anglo-Saxon, “erean,” +plough. +</p> + +<p> +10. Sours: Soaring ascent; a hawk was said to be “on the soar” +when he mounted, “on the sours” or “souse” when he +descended on the prey, and took it in flight. +</p> + +<p> +11. This is only one among many instances in which Chaucer +disclaims the pursuits of love; and the description of his manner +of life which follows is sufficient to show that the disclaimer +was no mere mock-humble affectation of a gallant. +</p> + +<p> +12. This reference, approximately fixing the date at which the +poem was composed, points clearly to Chaucer’s daily work as +Comptroller of the Customs — a post which he held from 1374 +to 1386. +</p> + +<p> +13. This is a frank enough admission that the poet was fond of +good cheer; and the effect of his “little abstinence” on his +corporeal appearance is humorously described in the Prologue +to the Tale of Sir Thopas, where the Host compliments Chaucer +on being as well shapen in the waist as himself. +</p> + +<p> +14. “To make the beard” means to befool or deceive. See note +15 to the Reeve’s Tale. Precisely the same idea is conveyed in +the modern slang word “shave” — meaning a trick or fraud. +</p> + +<p> +15. Love-days: see note 21 to the Prologue to the Canterbury +Tales. +</p> + +<p> +16. If this reference is to any book of Chaucer’s in which the +House of Fame was mentioned, the book has not come down to +us. It has been reasonably supposed, however, that Chaucer +means by “his own book” Ovid’s “Metamorphoses,” of which he +was evidently very fond; and in the twelfth book of that poem +the Temple of Fame is described. +</p> + +<p> +17. Saint Julian was the patron of hospitality; so the Franklin, in +the Prologue to The Canterbury Tales is said to be “Saint Julian +in his country,” for his open house and liberal cheer. The eagle, +at sight of the House of Fame, cries out “bon hostel!” — “a fair +lodging, a glorious house, by St Julian!” +</p> + +<p> +18. The laurel-tree is sacred to Apollo. See note 11 to The +Assembly of Fowls. +</p> + +<p> +19. French, “roche,” a rock. +</p> + +<p> +20. St. Thomas of Kent: Thomas a Beckett, whose shrine was +at Canterbury. +</p> + +<p> +21. The half or side of the rock which was towards the poet, +was inscribed with, etc. +</p> + +<p> +22. Cop: summit; German, “kopf”; the head. +</p> + +<p> +23. Gestiours: tellers of stories; reciters of brave feats or +“gests.” +</p> + +<p> +24. Arion: the celebrated Greek bard and citharist, who, in the +seventh century before Christ, lived at the court of Periander, +tyrant of Corinth. The story of his preservation by the dolphin, +when the covetous sailors forced him to leap into the sea, is +well known. +</p> + +<p> +25. Chiron the Centaur was renowned for skill in music and the +arts, which he owed to the teaching of Apollo and Artemis. He +became in turn the instructor of Peleus, Achilles, and other +descendants of Aeacus; hence he is called “Aeacides” — because +tutor to the Aeacides, and thus, so to speak, of that “family.” +</p> + +<p> +26. Glasgerion is the subject of a ballad given in “Percy’s<br/> +Reliques,” where we are told that<br/> +“Glasgerion was a king’s own son,<br/> + And a harper he was good;<br/> + He harped in the king’s chamber,<br/> + Where cup and candle stood.” +</p> + +<p> +27. Cornemuse: bagpipe; French, “cornemuse.” Shawmies: +shalms or psalteries; an instrument resembling a harp. +</p> + +<p> +28. Dulcet: a kind of pipe, probably corresponding with the +“dulcimer;” the idea of sweet — French, “doux;” Latin, “dulcis” +— is at the root of both words. +</p> + +<p> +29. In the early printed editions of Chaucer, the two names are +“Citherus” and “Proserus;” in the manuscript which Mr Bell +followed (No. 16 in the Fairfax collection) they are “Atileris” +and “Pseustis.” But neither alternative gives more than the +slightest clue to identification. “Citherus” has been retained in +the text; it may have been employed as an appellative of Apollo, +derived from “cithara,” the instrument on which he played; and +it is not easy to suggest a better substitute for it than “Clonas” - +- an early Greek poet and musician who flourished six hundred +years before Christ. For “Proserus,” however, has been +substituted “Pronomus,” the name of a celebrated Grecian +player on the pipe, who taught Alcibiades the flute, and who +therefore, although Theban by birth, might naturally be said by +the poet to be “of Athens.” +</p> + +<p> +30. Marsyas: The Phrygian, who, having found the flute of +Athena, which played of itself most exquisite music, challenged +Apollo to a contest, the victor in which was to do with the +vanquished as he pleased. Marsyas was beaten, and Apollo +flayed him alive. +</p> + +<p> +31. The German (Deutsche) language, in Chaucer’s time, had +not undergone that marked literary division into German and +Dutch which was largely accomplished through the influence of +the works of Luther and the other Reformers. Even now, the +flute is the favourite musical instrument of the Fatherland; and +the devotion of the Germans to poetry and music has been +celebrated since the days of Tacitus. +</p> + +<p> +32. Reyes: a kind of dance, or song to be accompanied with +dancing. +</p> + +<p> +33. Beam: horn, trumpet; Anglo-Saxon, “bema.” +</p> + +<p> +34. Messenus: Misenus, son of Aeolus, the companion and +trumpeter of Aeneas, was drowned near the Campanian +headland called Misenum after his name. (Aeneid, vi. 162 et +seqq.) +</p> + +<p> +35. Joab’s fame as a trumpeter is founded on two verses in 2 +Samuel (ii. 28, xx. 22), where we are told that he “blew a +trumpet,” which all the people of Israel obeyed, in the one case +desisting from a pursuit, in the other raising a siege. +</p> + +<p> +36. Theodamas or Thiodamas, king of the Dryopes, plays a +prominent part in the tenth book of Statius’ “Thebaid.” Both he +and Joab are also mentioned as great trumpeters in The +Merchant’s Tale. +</p> + +<p> +37. Jongelours: jugglers; French, “jongleur.” +</p> + +<p> +38. Tregetours: tricksters, jugglers. For explanation of this +word, see note 14 to the Franklin’s tale. +</p> + +<p> +39. Pythonesses: women who, like the Pythia in Apollo’s +temple at Delphi, were possessed with a spirit of divination or +prophecy. The barbarous Latin form of the word was +“Pythonissa” or “Phitonissa.” See note 9 to the Friar’s Tale. +</p> + +<p> +40. Subfumigations: a ceremony employed to drive away evil +spirits by burning incense; the practice of smoking cattle, corn, +&c., has not died out in some country districts. +</p> + +<p> +41. In certain ascendents: under certain planetary influences. +The next lines recall the alleged malpractices of witches, who +tortured little images of wax, in the design of causing the same +torments to the person represented — or, vice versa, treated +these images for the cure of hurts or sickness. +</p> + +<p> +42. Medea: celebrated for her magical power, through which +she restored to youth Aeson, the father of Jason; and caused the +death of Jason’s wife, Creusa, by sending her a poisoned +garment which consumed her to ashes. +</p> + +<p> +43. Circes: the sorceress Circe, who changed the companions of +Ulysses into swine. +</p> + +<p> +44. Calypsa: Calypso, on whose island of Ogygia Ulysses was +wrecked. The goddess promised the hero immortality if he +remained with her; but he refused, and, after a detention of +seven years, she had to let him go. +</p> + +<p> +45. Hermes Ballenus: this is supposed to mean Hermes +Trismegistus (of whom see note 19 to the Canon’s Yeoman’s +Tale); but the explanation of the word “Ballenus” is not quite +obvious. The god Hermes of the Greeks (Mercurius of the +Romans) had the surname “Cyllenius,” from the mountain +where he was born — Mount Cyllene, in Arcadia; and the +alteration into “Ballenus” would be quite within the range of a +copyist’s capabilities, while we find in the mythological +character of Hermes enough to warrant his being classed with +jugglers and magicians. +</p> + +<p> +46. Limote and Colle Tregetour seem to have been famous +sorcerers or jugglers, but nothing is now known of either. +</p> + +<p> +47. Simon Magus: of whom we read in Acts viii. 9, et seqq. +</p> + +<p> +48. “And made well more than it was<br/> + To seemen ev’rything, y-wis,<br/> + As kindly thing of Fame it is;”<br/> +i.e. It is in the nature of fame to exaggerate everything. +</p> + +<p> +49. Corbets: the corbels, or capitals of pillars in a Gothic +building; they were often carved with fantastic figures and +devices. +</p> + +<p> +50. A largess!: the cry with which heralds and pursuivants at a +tournament acknowledged the gifts or largesses of the knights +whose achievements they celebrated. +</p> + +<p> +51. Nobles: gold coins of exceptional fineness. Sterlings: +sterling coins; not “luxemburgs”, but stamped and authorised +money. See note 9 to the Miller’s Tale and note 6 to the +Prologue to the Monk’s tale. +</p> + +<p> +52. Coat-armure: the sleeveless coat or “tabard,” on which the +arms of the wearer or his lord were emblazoned. +</p> + +<p> +53. “But for to prove in alle wise +As fine as ducat of Venise” +i.e. In whatever way it might be proved or tested, it would be +found as fine as a Venetian ducat. +</p> + +<p> +54. Lapidaire: a treatise on precious stones. +</p> + +<p> +55. See imperial: a seat placed on the dais, or elevated portion +of the hall at the upper end, where the lord and the honoured +guests sat. +</p> + +<p> +56. The starres seven: Septentrion; the Great Bear or Northern +Wain, which in this country appears to be at the top of heaven. +</p> + +<p> +57. The Apocalypse: The last book of the New Testament, also +called Revelations. The four beasts are in chapter iv. 6. +</p> + +<p> +58. “Oundy” is the French “ondoye,” from “ondoyer,” to +undulate or wave. +</p> + +<p> +59. Partridges’ wings: denoting swiftness. +</p> + +<p> +60. Hercules lost his life with the poisoned shirt of Nessus, sent +to him by the jealous Dejanira. +</p> + +<p> +61. Of the secte Saturnine: Of the Saturnine school; so called +because his history of the Jewish wars narrated many horrors, +cruelties, and sufferings, over which Saturn was the presiding +deity. See note 71 to the Knight’s tale. +</p> + +<p> +62. Compare the account of the “bodies seven” given by the<br/> +Canon’s Yeoman:<br/> +“Sol gold is, and Luna silver we threpe;<br/> + Mars iron, Mercury quicksilver we clepe;<br/> + Saturnus lead, and Jupiter is tin,<br/> + And Venus copper, by my father’s kin.” +</p> + +<p> +63. Statius is called a “Tholosan,” because by some, among +them Dante, he was believed to have been a native of Tolosa, +now Toulouse. He wrote the “Thebais,” in twelve books, and +the “Achilleis,” of which only two were finished. +</p> + +<p> +64. Dares Phrygius and Dictys Cretensis were the names +attached to histories of the Trojan War pretended to have been +written immediately after the fall of Troy. +</p> + +<p> +65. Lollius: The unrecognisable author whom Chaucer +professes to follow in his “Troilus and Cressida,” and who has +been thought to mean Boccaccio. +</p> + +<p> +66. Guido de Colonna, or de Colempnis, was a native of +Messina, who lived about the end of the thirteenth century, and +wrote in Latin prose a history including the war of Troy. +</p> + +<p> +67. English Gaufrid: Geoffrey of Monmouth, who drew from +Troy the original of the British race. See Spenser’s “Faerie +Queen,” book ii. canto x. +</p> + +<p> +68. Lucan, in his “Pharsalia,” a poem in ten books, recounted +the incidents of the war between Caesar and Pompey. +</p> + +<p> +69. Claudian of Alexandria, “the most modern of the ancient +poets,” lived some three centuries after Christ, and among other +works wrote three books on “The Rape of Proserpine.” +</p> + +<p> +70. Triton was a son of Poseidon or Neptune, and represented +usually as blowing a trumpet made of a conch or shell; he is +therefore introduced by Chaucer as the squire of Aeolus. +</p> + +<p> +71. Sky: cloud; Anglo-Saxon, “scua;” Greek, “skia.” +</p> + +<p> +72. Los: reputation. See note 5 to Chaucer’s Tale of Melibœus. +</p> + +<p> +73. Swart: black; German, “schwarz.” +</p> + +<p> +74. Tewell: the pipe, chimney, of the furnace; French “tuyau.” +In the Prologue to The Canterbury Tales, the Monk’s head is +described as steaming like a lead furnace. +</p> + +<p> +75. Tetches: blemishes, spots; French, “tache.” +</p> + +<p> +76. For the story of Belle Isaude see note 21 to the Assembly of +Fowls. +</p> + +<p> +77. Quern: mill. See note 6 to the Monk’s Tale. +</p> + +<p> +78. To put an ape into one’s hood, upon his head, is to befool +him; see the prologue to the Prioresses’s Tale, l.6. +</p> + +<p> +79. Obviously Chaucer should have said the temple of Diana, or +Artemis (to whom, as Goddess of the Moon, the Egyptian Isis +corresponded), at Ephesus. The building, famous for its +splendour, was set on fire, in B.C. 356, by Erostatus, merely +that he might perpetuate his name. +</p> + +<p> +80. “Now do our los be blowen swithe, +As wisly be thou ever blithe.” i.e. +Cause our renown to be blown abroad quickly, as surely as you +wish to be glad. +</p> + +<p> +81. The Labyrinth at Cnossus in Crete, constructed by Dedalus +for the safe keeping of the Minotaur, the fruit of Pasiphae’s +unnatural love. +</p> + +<p> +82. The river Oise, an affluent of the Seine, in France. +</p> + +<p> +83. The engine: The machines for casting stones, which in +Chaucer time served the purpose of great artillery; they were +called “mangonells,” “springolds,” &c.; and resembled in +construction the “ballistae” and “catapultae” of the ancients. +</p> + +<p> +84. Or it a furlong way was old: before it was older than the +space of time during which one might walk a furlong; a measure +of time often employed by Chaucer. +</p> + +<p> +85. Shipmen and pilgrimes: sailors and pilgrims, who seem to +have in Chaucer’s time amply warranted the proverbial +imputation against “travellers’ tales.” +</p> + +<p> +86. Pardoners: of whom Chaucer, in the Prologue to The +Canterbury Tales, has given us no flattering typical portrait +</p> + +<p> +87. Lath: barn; still used in Lincolnshire and some parts of the +north. The meaning is, that the poet need not tell what tidings +he wanted to hear, since everything of the kind must some day +come out — as sooner or later every sheaf in the barn must be +brought forth (to be threshed). +</p> + +<p> +88. A somewhat similar heaping-up of people is de scribed in<br/> +Spenser’s account of the procession of Lucifera (“The Faerie<br/> +Queen,” book i. canto iv.), where, as the royal dame passes to<br/> +her coach,<br/> +“The heaps of people, thronging in the hall,<br/> + Do ride each other, upon her to gaze.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap35"></a>TROILUS AND CRESSIDA</h2> + +<p> +[In several respects, the story of “Troilus and Cressida” may be +regarded as Chaucer’s noblest poem. Larger in scale than any +other of his individual works — numbering nearly half as many +lines as The Canterbury Tales contain, without reckoning the +two in prose — the conception of the poem is yet so closely and +harmoniously worked out, that all the parts are perfectly +balanced, and from first to last scarcely a single line is +superfluous or misplaced. The finish and beauty of the poem as +a work of art, are not more conspicuous than the knowledge of +human nature displayed in the portraits of the principal +characters. The result is, that the poem is more modern, in form +and in spirit, than almost any other work of its author; the +chaste style and sedulous polish of the stanzas admit of easy +change into the forms of speech now current in England; while +the analytical and subjective character of the work gives it, for +the nineteenth century reader, an interest of the same kind as +that inspired, say, by George Eliot’s wonderful study of +character in “Romola.” Then, above all, “Troilus and Cressida” +is distinguished by a purity and elevation of moral tone, that +may surprise those who judge of Chaucer only by the coarse +traits of his time preserved in The Canterbury Tales, or who +may expect to find here the Troilus, the Cressida, and the +Pandarus of Shakspeare’s play. It is to no trivial gallant, no +woman of coarse mind and easy virtue, no malignantly +subservient and utterly debased procurer, that Chaucer +introduces us. His Troilus is a noble, sensitive, generous, pure- +souled, manly, magnanimous hero, who is only confirmed and +stimulated in all virtue by his love, who lives for his lady, and +dies for her falsehood, in a lofty and chivalrous fashion. His +Cressida is a stately, self-contained, virtuous, tender-hearted +woman, who loves with all the pure strength and trustful +abandonment of a generous and exalted nature, and who is +driven to infidelity perhaps even less by pressure of +circumstances, than by the sheer force of her love, which will go +on loving — loving what it can have, when that which it would +rather have is for the time unattainable. His Pandarus is a +gentleman, though a gentleman with a flaw in him; a man who, +in his courtier-like good-nature, places the claims of +comradeship above those of honour, and plots away the virtue +of his niece, that he may appease the love-sorrow of his friend; +all the time conscious that he is not acting as a gentleman +should, and desirous that others should give him that +justification which he can get but feebly and diffidently in +himself. In fact, the “Troilus and Cressida” of Chaucer is the +“Troilus and Cressida” of Shakespeare transfigured; the +atmosphere, the colour, the spirit, are wholly different; the older +poet presents us in the chief characters to noble natures, the +younger to ignoble natures in all the characters; and the poem +with which we have now to do stands at this day among the +noblest expositions of love’s workings in the human heart and +life. It is divided into five books, containing altogether 8246 +lines. The First Book (1092 lines) tells how Calchas, priest of +Apollo, quitting beleaguered Troy, left there his only daughter +Cressida; how Troilus, the youngest brother of Hector and son +of King Priam, fell in love with her at first sight, at a festival in +the temple of Pallas, and sorrowed bitterly for her love; and +how his friend, Cressida’s uncle, Pandarus, comforted him by +the promise of aid in his suit. The Second Book (1757 lines) +relates the subtle manoeuvres of Pandarus to induce Cressida to +return the love of Troilus; which he accomplishes mainly by +touching at once the lady’s admiration for his heroism, and her +pity for his love-sorrow on her account. The Third Book (1827 +lines) opens with an account of the first interview between the +lovers; ere it closes, the skilful stratagems of Pandarus have +placed the pair in each other’s arms under his roof, and the +lovers are happy in perfect enjoyment of each other’s love and +trust. In the Fourth Book (1701 lines) the course of true love +ceases to run smooth; Cressida is compelled to quit the city, in +ransom for Antenor, captured in a skirmish; and she sadly +departs to the camp of the Greeks, vowing that she will make +her escape, and return to Troy and Troilus within ten days. The +Fifth Book (1869 lines) sets out by describing the court which +Diomedes, appointed to escort her, pays to Cressida on the way +to the camp; it traces her gradual progress from indifference to +her new suitor, to incontinence with him, and it leaves the +deserted Troilus dead on the field of battle, where he has sought +an eternal refuge from the new grief provoked by clear proof of +his mistress’s infidelity. The polish, elegance, and power of the +style, and the acuteness of insight into character, which mark +the poem, seem to claim for it a date considerably later than that +adopted by those who assign its composition to Chaucer’s +youth: and the literary allusions and proverbial expressions with +which it abounds, give ample evidence that, if Chaucer really +wrote it at an early age, his youth must have been precocious +beyond all actual record. Throughout the poem there are +repeated references to the old authors of Trojan histories who +are named in “The House of Fame”; but Chaucer especially +mentions one Lollius as the author from whom he takes the +groundwork of the poem. Lydgate is responsible for the +assertion that Lollius meant Boccaccio; and though there is no +authority for supposing that the English really meant to +designate the Italian poet under that name, there is abundant +internal proof that the poem was really founded on the +“Filostrato” of Boccaccio. But the tone of Chaucer’s work is +much higher than that of his Italian “auctour;” and while in +some passages the imitation is very close, in all that is +characteristic in “Troilus and Cressida,” Chaucer has fairly +thrust his models out of sight. In the present edition, it has been +possible to give no more than about one-fourth of the poem — +274 out of the 1178 seven-line stanzas that compose it; but +pains have been taken to convey, in the connecting prose +passages, a faithful idea of what is perforce omitted.] +</p> + +<h3>THE FIRST BOOK.</h3> + +<p> +THE double sorrow <1> of Troilus to tell,<br/> +That was the King Priamus’ son of Troy,<br/> +In loving how his adventures* fell *fortunes<br/> +From woe to weal, and after* out of joy, *afterwards<br/> +My purpose is, ere I you parte froy.* *from<br/> +Tisiphone,<2> thou help me to indite<br/> +These woeful words, that weep as I do write. +</p> + +<p> +To thee I call, thou goddess of torment!<br/> +Thou cruel wight, that sorrowest ever in pain;<br/> +Help me, that am the sorry instrument<br/> +That helpeth lovers, as I can, to plain.* *complain<br/> +For well it sits,* the soothe for to sayn, *befits<br/> +Unto a woeful wight a dreary fere,* *companion<br/> +And to a sorry tale a sorry cheer.* *countenance +</p> + +<p> +For I, that God of Love’s servants serve,<br/> +Nor dare to love for mine unlikeliness,* <3> *unsuitableness<br/> +Praye for speed,* although I shoulde sterve,** *success **die<br/> +So far I am from his help in darkness;<br/> +But natheless, might I do yet gladness<br/> +To any lover, or any love avail,* *advance<br/> +Have thou the thank, and mine be the travail. +</p> + +<p> +But ye lovers that bathen in gladness,<br/> +If any drop of pity in you be,<br/> +Remember you for old past heaviness,<br/> +For Godde’s love, and on adversity<br/> +That others suffer; think how sometime ye<br/> +Founde how Love durste you displease;<br/> +Or elles ye have won it with great ease. +</p> + +<p> +And pray for them that been in the case<br/> +Of Troilus, as ye may after hear,<br/> +That Love them bring in heaven to solace;* *delight, comfort<br/> +And for me pray also, that God so dear<br/> +May give me might to show, in some mannere,<br/> +Such pain or woe as Love’s folk endure,<br/> +In Troilus’ *unseely adventure* *unhappy fortune* +</p> + +<p> +And pray for them that eke be despair’d<br/> +In love, that never will recover’d be;<br/> +And eke for them that falsely be appair’d* *slandered<br/> +Through wicked tongues, be it he or she:<br/> +Or thus bid* God, for his benignity, *pray<br/> +To grant them soon out of this world to pace,* *pass, go<br/> +That be despaired of their love’s grace. +</p> + +<p> +And bid also for them that be at ease<br/> +In love, that God them grant perseverance,<br/> +And send them might their loves so to please,<br/> +That it to them be *worship and pleasance;* *honour and pleasure*<br/> +For so hope I my soul best to advance,<br/> +To pray for them that Love’s servants be,<br/> +And write their woe, and live in charity; +</p> + +<p> +And for to have of them compassion,<br/> +As though I were their owen brother dear.<br/> +Now listen all with good entention,* *attention<br/> +For I will now go straight to my mattere,<br/> +In which ye shall the double sorrow hear<br/> +Of Troilus, in loving of Cresside,<br/> +And how that she forsook him ere she died. +</p> + +<p> +In Troy, during the siege, dwelt “a lord of great authority, a +great divine,” named Calchas; who, through the oracle of +Apollo, knew that Troy should be destroyed. He stole away +secretly to the Greek camp, where he was gladly received, and +honoured for his skill in divining, of which the besiegers hoped +to make use. Within the city there was great anger at the +treason of Calchas; and the people declared that he and all his +kin were worthy to be burnt. His daughter, whom he had left in +the city, a widow and alone, was in great fear for her life. +</p> + +<p> +Cressida was this lady’s name aright;<br/> +*As to my doom,* in alle Troy city *in my judgment*<br/> +So fair was none, for over ev’ry wight<br/> +So angelic was her native beauty,<br/> +That like a thing immortal seemed she,<br/> +As sooth a perfect heav’nly creature,<br/> +That down seem’d sent in scorning of Nature. +</p> + +<p> +In her distress, “well nigh out of her wit for pure fear,” she +appealed for protection to Hector; who, “piteous of nature,” +and touched by her sorrow and her beauty, assured her of +safety, so long as she pleased to dwell in Troy. The siege went +on; but they of Troy did not neglect the honour and worship of +their deities; most of all of “the relic hight Palladion, <4> that +was their trust aboven ev’ry one.” In April, “when clothed is the +mead with newe green, of jolly Ver [Spring] the prime,” the +Trojans went to hold the festival of Palladion — crowding to +the temple, “in all their beste guise,” lusty knights, fresh ladies, +and maidens bright. +</p> + +<p> +Among the which was this Cresseida,<br/> +In widow’s habit black; but natheless,<br/> +Right as our firste letter is now A,<br/> +In beauty first so stood she makeless;* *matchless<br/> +Her goodly looking gladded all the press;* *crowd<br/> +Was never seen thing to be praised derre,* *dearer, more worthy<br/> +Nor under blacke cloud so bright a sterre,* *star +</p> + +<p> +As she was, as they saiden, ev’ry one<br/> +That her behelden in her blacke weed;* *garment<br/> +And yet she stood, full low and still, alone,<br/> +Behind all other folk, *in little brede,* *inconspicuously*<br/> +And nigh the door, ay *under shame’s drede;* *for dread of shame*<br/> +Simple of bearing, debonair* of cheer, *gracious<br/> +With a full sure* looking and mannere. *assured +</p> + +<p> +Dan Troilus, as he was wont to guide<br/> +His younge knightes, led them up and down<br/> +In that large temple upon ev’ry side,<br/> +Beholding ay the ladies of the town;<br/> +Now here, now there, for no devotioun<br/> +Had he to none, to *reave him* his rest, *deprive him of*<br/> +But gan to *praise and lacke whom him lest;* *praise and disparage<br/> + whom he pleased*<br/> +And in his walk full fast he gan to wait* *watch, observe<br/> +If knight or squier of his company<br/> +Gan for to sigh, or let his eyen bait* *feed<br/> +On any woman that he could espy;<br/> +Then he would smile, and hold it a folly,<br/> +And say him thus: “Ah, Lord, she sleepeth soft<br/> +For love of thee, when as thou turnest oft. +</p> + +<p> +“I have heard told, pardie, of your living,<br/> +Ye lovers, and your lewed* observance, *ignorant, foolish<br/> +And what a labour folk have in winning<br/> +Of love, and in it keeping with doubtance;* *doubt<br/> +And when your prey is lost, woe and penance;* *suffering<br/> +Oh, very fooles! may ye no thing see?<br/> +Can none of you aware by other be?” +</p> + +<p> +But the God of Love vowed vengeance on Troilus for that +despite, and, showing that his bow was not broken, “hit him at +the full.” +</p> + +<p> +Within the temple went he forth playing,<br/> +This Troilus, with ev’ry wight about,<br/> +On this lady and now on that looking,<br/> +Whether she were of town, or *of without;* *from beyond the walls*<br/> +And *upon cas* befell, that through the rout* *by chance* *crowd<br/> +His eye pierced, and so deep it went,<br/> +Till on Cresside it smote, and there it stent;* *stayed +</p> + +<p> +And suddenly wax’d wonder sore astoned,* *amazed<br/> +And gan her bet* behold in busy wise: *better<br/> +“Oh, very god!” <5> thought he; “where hast thou woned* *dwelt<br/> +That art so fair and goodly to devise?* *describe<br/> +Therewith his heart began to spread and rise;<br/> +And soft he sighed, lest men might him hear,<br/> +And caught again his former *playing cheer.* *jesting demeanour* +</p> + +<p> +*She was not with the least of her stature,* *she was tall*<br/> +But all her limbes so well answering<br/> +Were to womanhood, that creature<br/> +Was never lesse mannish in seeming.<br/> +And eke *the pure wise of her moving* *by very the way<br/> +She showed well, that men might in her guess she moved*<br/> +Honour, estate,* and womanly nobless. *dignity +</p> + +<p> +Then Troilus right wonder well withal<br/> +Began to like her moving and her cheer,* *countenance<br/> +Which somedeal dainous* was, for she let fall *disdainful<br/> +Her look a little aside, in such mannere<br/> +Ascaunce* “What! may I not stande here?” *as if to say <6><br/> +And after that *her looking gan she light,* *her expression became<br/> +That never thought him see so good a sight. more pleasant* +</p> + +<p> +And of her look in him there gan to quicken<br/> +So great desire, and strong affection,<br/> +That in his hearte’s bottom gan to sticken<br/> +Of her the fix’d and deep impression;<br/> +And though he erst* had pored** up and down, *previously **looked<br/> +Then was he glad his hornes in to shrink;<br/> +Unnethes* wist he how to look or wink. *scarcely +</p> + +<p> +Lo! he that held himselfe so cunning,<br/> +And scorned them that Love’s paines drien,* *suffer<br/> +Was full unware that love had his dwelling<br/> +Within the subtile streames* of her eyen; *rays, glances<br/> +That suddenly he thought he felte dien,<br/> +Right with her look, the spirit in his heart;<br/> +Blessed be Love, that thus can folk convert! +</p> + +<p> +She thus, in black, looking to Troilus,<br/> +Over all things he stoode to behold;<br/> +But his desire, nor wherefore he stood thus,<br/> +He neither *cheere made,* nor worde told; *showed by his countenance*<br/> +But from afar, *his manner for to hold,* *to observe due courtesy*<br/> +On other things sometimes his look he cast,<br/> +And eft* <7> on her, while that the service last.** *again **lasted +</p> + +<p> +And after this, not fully all awhaped,* *daunted<br/> +Out of the temple all easily be went,<br/> +Repenting him that ever he had japed* *jested<br/> +Of Love’s folk, lest fully the descent<br/> +Of scorn fell on himself; but what he meant,<br/> +Lest it were wist on any manner side,<br/> +His woe he gan dissemble and eke hide. +</p> + +<p> +Returning to his palace, he begins hypocritically to smile and +jest at Love’s servants and their pains; but by and by he has to +dismiss his attendants, feigning “other busy needs.” Then, alone +in his chamber, he begins to groan and sigh, and call up again +Cressida’s form as he saw her in the temple — “making a mirror +of his mind, in which he saw all wholly her figure.” He thinks no +travail or sorrow too high a price for the love of such a goodly +woman; and, “full unadvised of his woe coming,” +</p> + +<p> +Thus took he purpose Love’s craft to sue,* *follow<br/> +And thought that he would work all privily,<br/> +First for to hide his desire all *in mew* *in a cage, secretly<br/> +From every wight y-born, all utterly,<br/> +*But he might aught recover’d be thereby;* *unless he gained by it*<br/> +Rememb’ring him, that love *too wide y-blow* *too much spoken of*<br/> +Yields bitter fruit, although sweet seed be sow. +</p> + +<p> +And, over all this, muche more he thought<br/> +What thing to speak, and what to holden in;<br/> +And what to arten* her to love, he sought; *constrain <8><br/> +And on a song anon right to begin,<br/> +And gan loud on his sorrow for to win;* *overcome<br/> +For with good hope he gan thus to assent* *resolve<br/> +Cressida for to love, and not repent. +</p> + +<p> +The Song of Troilus. <9> +</p> + +<p> +“If no love is, O God! why feel I so?<br/> +And if love is, what thing and which is he?<br/> +If love be good, from whence cometh my woe?<br/> +If it be wick’, a wonder thinketh me<br/> +Whence ev’ry torment and adversity<br/> +That comes of love *may to me savoury think:* *seem acceptable to me*<br/> +For more I thirst the more that I drink. +</p> + +<p> +“And if I *at mine owen luste bren* *burn by my own will*<br/> +From whence cometh my wailing and my plaint?<br/> +If maugre me,<10> *whereto plain I* then? *to what avail do I complain?*<br/> +I wot ner* why, unweary, that I faint. *neither<br/> +O quicke death! O sweete harm so quaint!* *strange<br/> +How may I see in me such quantity,<br/> +But if that I consent that so it be? +</p> + +<p> +“And if that I consent, I wrongfully<br/> +Complain y-wis: thus pushed to and fro,<br/> +All starreless within a boat am I,<br/> +Middes the sea, betwixte windes two,<br/> +That in contrary standen evermo’.<br/> +Alas! what wonder is this malady! —<br/> +For heat of cold, for cold of heat, I die!” +</p> + +<p> +Devoting himself wholly to the thought of Cressida — though he +yet knew not whether she was woman or goddess — Troilus, in +spite of his royal blood, became the very slave of love. He set at +naught every other charge, but to gaze on her as often as he +could; thinking so to appease his hot fire, which thereby only +burned the hotter. He wrought marvellous feats of arms against +the Greeks, that she might like him the better for his renown; +then love deprived him of sleep, and made his food his foe; till +he had to “borrow a title of other sickness,” that men might not +know he was consumed with love. Meantime, Cressida gave no +sign that she heeded his devotion, or even knew of it; and he +was now consumed with a new fear — lest she loved some other +man. Bewailing his sad lot — ensnared, exposed to the scorn of +those whose love he had ridiculed, wishing himself arrived at +the port of death, and praying ever that his lady might glad him +with some kind look — Troilus is surprised in his chamber by his +friend Pandarus, the uncle of Cressida. Pandarus, seeking to +divert his sorrow by making him angry, jeeringly asks whether +remorse of conscience, or devotion, or fear of the Greeks, has +caused all this ado. Troilus pitifully beseeches his friend to leave +him to die alone, for die he must, from a cause which he must +keep hidden; but Pandarus argues against Troilus’ cruelty in +hiding from a friend such a sorrow, and Troilus at last confesses +that his malady is love. Pandarus suggests that the beloved +object may be such that his counsel might advance his friend’s +desires; but Troilus scouts the suggestion, saying that Pandarus +could never govern himself in love. +</p> + +<p> +“Yea, Troilus, hearken to me,” quoth Pandare,<br/> +“Though I be nice;* it happens often so, *foolish<br/> +That one that access* doth full evil fare, *in an access of fever<br/> +By good counsel can keep his friend therefro’.<br/> +I have my selfe seen a blind man go<br/> +Where as he fell that looke could full wide;<br/> +A fool may eke a wise man often guide. +</p> + +<p> +“A whetstone is no carving instrument,<br/> +But yet it maketh sharpe carving tooles;<br/> +And, if thou know’st that I have aught miswent,* *erred, failed<br/> +Eschew thou that, for such thing to thee school* is. *schooling, lesson<br/> +Thus oughte wise men to beware by fooles;<br/> +If so thou do, thy wit is well bewared;<br/> +By its contrary is everything declared. +</p> + +<p> +“For how might ever sweetness have been know +To him that never tasted bitterness? +And no man knows what gladness is, I trow, +That never was in sorrow or distress: +Eke white by black, by shame eke worthiness, +Each set by other, *more for other seemeth,* *its quality is made +As men may see; and so the wise man deemeth.” more obvious by the contrast* +Troilus, however, still begs his friend to leave him to mourn in +peace, for all his proverbs can avail nothing. But Pandarus +insists on plying the lover with wise saws, arguments, +reproaches; hints that, if he should die of love, his lady may +impute his death to fear of the Greeks; and finally induces +Troilus to admit that the well of all his woe, his sweetest foe, is +called Cressida. Pandarus breaks into praises of the lady, and +congratulations of his friend for so well fixing his heart; he +makes Troilus utter a formal confession of his sin in jesting at +lovers and bids him think well that she of whom rises all his +woe, hereafter may his comfort be also. +</p> + +<p> +“For thilke* ground, that bears the weedes wick’ *that same<br/> +Bears eke the wholesome herbes, and full oft<br/> +Next to the foule nettle, rough and thick,<br/> +The lily waxeth,* white, and smooth, and soft; *grows<br/> +And next the valley is the hill aloft,<br/> +And next the darke night is the glad morrow,<br/> +And also joy is next the fine* of sorrow.” *end, border +</p> + +<p> +Pandarus holds out to Troilus good hope of achieving his +desire; and tells him that, since he has been converted from his +wicked rebellion against Love, he shall be made the best post of +all Love’s law, and most grieve Love’s enemies. Troilus gives +utterance to a hint of fear; but he is silenced by Pandarus with +another proverb — “Thou hast full great care, lest that the carl +should fall out of the moon.” Then the lovesick youth breaks +into a joyous boast that some of the Greeks shall smart; he +mounts his horse, and plays the lion in the field; while Pandarus +retires to consider how he may best recommend to his niece the +suit of Troilus. +</p> + +<h3>THE SECOND BOOK.</h3> + +<p> +IN the Proem to the Second Book, the poet hails the clear +weather that enables him to sail out of those black waves in +which his boat so laboured that he could scarcely steer — that is, +“the tempestuous matter of despair, that Troilus was in; but +now of hope the kalendes begin.” He invokes the aid of Clio; +excuses himself to every lover for what may be found amiss in a +book which he only translates; and, obviating any lover’s +objection to the way in which Troilus obtained his lady’s grace - +- through Pandarus’ mediation — says it seems to him no +wonderful thing: +</p> + +<p> +“For ev’ry wighte that to Rome went<br/> +Held not one path, nor alway one mannere;<br/> +Eke in some lands were all the game y-shent<br/> +If that men far’d in love as men do here,<br/> +As thus, in open dealing and in cheer,<br/> +In visiting, in form, or saying their saws;* *speeches<br/> +For thus men say: Each country hath its laws. +</p> + +<p> +“Eke scarcely be there in this place three<br/> +That have in love done or said *like in all;”* *alike in all respects* +</p> + +<p> +And so that which the poem relates may not please the reader — +but it actually was done, or it shall yet be done. The Book sets +out with the visit of Pandarus to Cressida:— +</p> + +<p> +In May, that mother is of monthes glade,* *glad<br/> +When all the freshe flowers, green and red,<br/> +Be quick* again, that winter deade made, *alive<br/> +And full of balm is floating ev’ry mead;<br/> +When Phoebus doth his brighte beames spread<br/> +Right in the white Bull, so it betid* *happened<br/> +As I shall sing, on Maye’s day the thrid, <11> +</p> + +<p> +That Pandarus, for all his wise speech,<br/> +Felt eke his part of Love’s shottes keen,<br/> +That, could he ne’er so well of Love preach,<br/> +It made yet his hue all day full green;* *pale<br/> +So *shope it,* that him fell that day a teen* *it happened* *access<br/> +In love, for which full woe to bed he went,<br/> +And made ere it were day full many a went.* *turning <12> +</p> + +<p> +The swallow Progne, <13> with a sorrowful lay,<br/> +When morrow came, gan make her waimenting,* *lamenting<br/> +Why she foshapen* was; and ever lay *transformed<br/> +Pandare a-bed, half in a slumbering,<br/> +Till she so nigh him made her chittering,<br/> +How Tereus gan forth her sister take,<br/> +That with the noise of her he did awake, +</p> + +<p> +And gan to call, and dress* him to arise, *prepare<br/> +Rememb’ring him his errand was to do’n<br/> +From Troilus, and eke his great emprise;<br/> +And cast, and knew in *good plight* was the Moon *favourable aspect*<br/> +To do voyage, and took his way full soon<br/> +Unto his niece’s palace there beside<br/> +Now Janus, god of entry, thou him guide! +</p> + +<p> +Pandarus finds his niece, with two other ladies, in a paved +parlour, listening to a maiden who reads aloud the story of the +Siege of Thebes. Greeting the company, he is welcomed by +Cressida, who tells him that for three nights she has dreamed of +him. After some lively talk about the book they had been +reading, Pandarus asks his niece to do away her hood, to show +her face bare, to lay aside the book, to rise up and dance, “and +let us do to May some observance.” Cressida cries out, “God +forbid!” and asks if he is mad — if that is a widow’s life, whom it +better becomes to sit in a cave and read of holy saints’ lives. +Pandarus intimates that he could tell her something which could +make her merry; but he refuses to gratify her curiosity; and, by +way of the siege and of Hector, “that was the towne’s wall, and +Greekes’ yerd” or scourging-rod, the conversation is brought +round to Troilus, whom Pandarus highly extols as “the wise +worthy Hector the second.” She has, she says, already heard +Troilus praised for his bravery “of them that her were liefest +praised be” [by whom it would be most welcome to her to be +praised]. +</p> + +<p> +“Ye say right sooth, y-wis,” quoth Pandarus;<br/> +For yesterday, who so had with him been,<br/> +Might have wonder’d upon Troilus;<br/> +For never yet so thick a swarm of been* *bees<br/> +Ne flew, as did of Greekes from him flee’n;<br/> +And through the field, in ev’ry wighte’s ear,<br/> +There was no cry but ‘Troilus is here.’ +</p> + +<p> +“Now here, now there, he hunted them so fast,<br/> +There was but Greekes’ blood; and Troilus<br/> +Now him he hurt, now him adown he cast;<br/> +Ay where he went it was arrayed thus:<br/> +He was their death, and shield of life for us,<br/> +That as that day there durst him none withstand,<br/> +While that he held his bloody sword in hand.” +</p> + +<p> +Pandarus makes now a show of taking leave, but Cressida +detains him, to speak of her affairs; then, the business talked +over, he would again go, but first again asks his niece to arise +and dance, and cast her widow’s garments to mischance, +because of the glad fortune that has befallen her. More curious +than ever, she seeks to find out Pandarus’ secret; but he still +parries her curiosity, skilfully hinting all the time at her good +fortune, and the wisdom of seizing on it when offered. In the +end he tells her that the noble Troilus so loves her, that with her +it lies to make him live or die — but if Troilus dies, Pandarus +shall die with him; and then she will have “fished fair.” <14> He +beseeches mercy for his friend: +</p> + +<p> +“*Woe worth* the faire gemme virtueless! <15> *evil befall!*<br/> +Woe worth the herb also that *doth no boot!* *has no remedial power*<br/> +Woe worth the beauty that is rutheless!* *merciless<br/> +Woe worth that wight that treads each under foot!<br/> +And ye that be of beauty *crop and root* *perfection <16><br/> +If therewithal in you there be no ruth,* *pity<br/> +Then is it harm ye live, by my truth!” +</p> + +<p> +Pandarus makes only the slight request that she will show +Troilus somewhat better cheer, and receive visits from him, that +his life may be saved; urging that, although a man be soon going +to the temple, nobody will think that he eats the images; and +that “such love of friends reigneth in all this town.” +</p> + +<p> +Cressida, which that heard him in this wise,<br/> +Thought: “I shall feele* what he means, y-wis;” *test<br/> +“Now, eme* quoth she, “what would ye me devise? *uncle<br/> +What is your rede* that I should do of this?” *counsel, opinion<br/> +“That is well said,” quoth he;” certain best it is<br/> +That ye him love again for his loving,<br/> +As love for love is *skilful guerdoning.* *reasonable recompense* +</p> + +<p> +“Think eke how elde* wasteth ev’ry hour *age<br/> +In each of you a part of your beauty;<br/> +And therefore, ere that age do you devour,<br/> +Go love, for, old, there will no wight love thee<br/> +Let this proverb a lore* unto you be: *lesson<br/> +‘“Too late I was ware,” quoth beauty when it past;<br/> +And *elde daunteth danger* at the last.’ *old age overcomes disdain* +</p> + +<p> +“The kinge’s fool is wont to cry aloud, +When that he thinks a woman bears her high, +‘So longe may ye liven, and all proud, +Till crowes’ feet be wox* under your eye! *grown +And send you then a mirror *in to pry* *to look in* +In which ye may your face see a-morrow!* *in the morning +*I keep then wishe you no more sorrow.’”* *I care to wish you nothing worse* +Weeping, Cressida reproaches her uncle for giving her such +counsel; whereupon Pandarus, starting up, threatens to kill +himself, and would fain depart, but that his niece detains him, +and, with much reluctance, promises to “make Troilus good +cheer in honour.” Invited by Cressida to tell how first he know +her lover’s woe, Pandarus then relates two soliloquies which he +had accidentally overheard, and in which Troilus had poured +out all the sorrow of his passion. +</p> + +<p> +With this he took his leave, and home he went<br/> +Ah! Lord, so was he glad and well-begone!* *happy<br/> +Cresside arose, no longer would she stent,* *stay<br/> +But straight into her chamber went anon,<br/> +And sat her down, as still as any stone,<br/> +And ev’ry word gan up and down to wind<br/> +That he had said, as it came to her mind. +</p> + +<p> +And wax’d somedeal astonish’d in her thought,<br/> +Right for the newe case; but when that she<br/> +*Was full advised,* then she found right naught *had fully considered*<br/> +Of peril, why she should afeared be:<br/> +For a man may love, of possibility,<br/> +A woman so, that his heart may to-brest,* *break utterly<br/> +And she not love again, *but if her lest.* *unless it so please her* +</p> + +<p> +But as she sat alone, and thoughte thus,<br/> +In field arose a skirmish all without;<br/> +And men cried in the street then:”<br/> +Troilus hath right now put to flight the Greekes’ rout.”* *host<br/> +With that gan all the meinie* for to shout: *(Cressida’s) household<br/> +“Ah! go we see, cast up the lattice wide,<br/> +For through this street he must to palace ride; +</p> + +<p> +“For other way is from the gates none,<br/> +Of Dardanus,<18> where open is the chain.” <19><br/> +With that came he, and all his folk anon,<br/> +An easy pace riding, in *routes twain,* *two troops*<br/> +Right as his *happy day* was, sooth to sayn: *good fortune <20>*<br/> +For which men say may not disturbed be<br/> +What shall betiden* of necessity. *happen +</p> + +<p> +This Troilus sat upon his bay steed<br/> +All armed, save his head, full richely,<br/> +And wounded was his horse, and gan to bleed,<br/> +For which he rode a pace full softely<br/> +But such a knightly sighte* truly *aspect<br/> +As was on him, was not, withoute fail,<br/> +To look on Mars, that god is of Battaile. +</p> + +<p> +So like a man of armes, and a knight,<br/> +He was to see, full fill’d of high prowess;<br/> +For both he had a body, and a might<br/> +To do that thing, as well as hardiness;* *courage<br/> +And eke to see him in his gear* him dress, *armour<br/> +So fresh, so young, so wieldy* seemed he, *active<br/> +It was a heaven on him for to see.* *look +</p> + +<p> +His helmet was to-hewn in twenty places,<br/> +That by a tissue* hung his back behind; *riband<br/> +His shield to-dashed was with swords and maces,<br/> +In which men might many an arrow find,<br/> +That thirled* had both horn, and nerve, and rind; <21> *pierced<br/> +And ay the people cried, “Here comes our joy,<br/> +And, next his brother, <22> holder up of Troy.” +</p> + +<p> +For which he wax’d a little red for shame,<br/> +When he so heard the people on him cryen<br/> +That to behold it was a noble game,<br/> +How soberly he cast adown his eyen:<br/> +Cresside anon gan all his cheer espien,<br/> +And let it in her heart so softly sink,<br/> +That to herself she said, “Who gives me drink?”<23> +</p> + +<p> +For of her owen thought she wax’d all red,<br/> +Rememb’ring her right thus: “Lo! this is he<br/> +Which that mine uncle swears he might be dead,<br/> +But* I on him have mercy and pity:” *unless<br/> +And with that thought for pure shame she<br/> +Gan in her head to pull, and that full fast,<br/> +While he and all the people forth by pass’d. +</p> + +<p> +And gan to cast,* and rollen up and down *ponder<br/> +Within her thought his excellent prowess,<br/> +And his estate, and also his renown,<br/> +His wit, his shape, and eke his gentleness<br/> +But most her favour was, for his distress<br/> +Was all for her, and thought it were ruth<br/> +To slay such one, if that he meant but truth. +</p> + +<p> +. . . . . . . . . . +</p> + +<p> +And, Lord! so gan she in her heart argue<br/> +Of this mattere, of which I have you told<br/> +And what to do best were, and what t’eschew,<br/> +That plaited she full oft in many a fold.<24><br/> +Now was her hearte warm, now was it cold.<br/> +And what she thought of, somewhat shall I write,<br/> +As to mine author listeth to endite. +</p> + +<p> +She thoughte first, that Troilus’ person<br/> +She knew by sight, and eke his gentleness;<br/> +And saide thus: *“All were it not to do’n,’* *although it were<br/> +To grant him love, yet for the worthiness impossible*<br/> +It were honour, with play* and with gladness, *pleasing entertainment<br/> +In honesty with such a lord to deal,<br/> +For mine estate,* and also for his heal.** *reputation **health +</p> + +<p> +“Eke well I wot* my kinge’s son is he; *know<br/> +And, since he hath to see me such delight,<br/> +If I would utterly his sighte flee,<br/> +Parauntre* he might have me in despite, *peradventure<br/> +Through which I mighte stand in worse plight. <25><br/> +Now were I fool, me hate to purchase* *obtain for myself<br/> +Withoute need, where I may stand in grace,* *favour +</p> + +<p> +“In ev’rything, I wot, there lies measure;* *a happy medium<br/> +For though a man forbidde drunkenness,<br/> +He not forbids that ev’ry creature<br/> +Be drinkeless for alway, as I guess;<br/> +Eke, since I know for me is his distress,<br/> +I oughte not for that thing him despise,<br/> +Since it is so he meaneth in good wise. +</p> + +<p> +“Now set a case, that hardest is, y-wis,<br/> +Men mighte deeme* that he loveth me; *believe<br/> +What dishonour were it unto me, this?<br/> +May I *him let of* that? Why, nay, pardie! *prevent him from*<br/> +I know also, and alway hear and see,<br/> +Men love women all this town about;<br/> +Be they the worse? Why, nay, withoute doubt! +</p> + +<p> +“Nor me to love a wonder is it not;<br/> +For well wot I myself, so God me speed! —<br/> +*All would I* that no man wist of this thought — *although I would*<br/> +I am one of the fairest, without drede,* *doubt<br/> +And goodlieste, who so taketh heed;<br/> +And so men say in all the town of Troy;<br/> +What wonder is, though he on me have joy? +</p> + +<p> +“I am mine owen woman, well at ease,<br/> +I thank it God, as after mine estate,<br/> +Right young, and stand untied in *lusty leas,* *pleasant leash<br/> +Withoute jealousy, or such debate: (of love)*<br/> +Shall none husband say to me checkmate;<br/> +For either they be full of jealousy,<br/> +Or masterful, or love novelty. +</p> + +<p> +“What shall I do? to what fine* live I thus? *end<br/> +Shall I not love, in case if that me lest?<br/> +What? pardie! I am not religious;<26><br/> +And though that I mine hearte set at rest<br/> +And keep alway mine honour and my name,<br/> +By all right I may do to me no shame.” +</p> + +<p> +But right as when the sunne shineth bright<br/> +In March, that changeth oftentime his face,<br/> +And that a cloud is put with wind to flight,<br/> +Which overspreads the sun as for a space;<br/> +A cloudy thought gan through her hearte pace,* *pass<br/> +That overspread her brighte thoughtes all,<br/> +So that for fear almost she gan to fall. +</p> + +<p> +The cloudy thought is of the loss of liberty and security, the +stormy life, and the malice of wicked tongues, that love entails: +</p> + +<p> +[But] after that her thought began to clear,<br/> +And saide, “He that nothing undertakes<br/> +Nothing achieveth, be him *loth or dear.”* *unwilling or desirous*<br/> +And with another thought her hearte quakes;<br/> +Then sleepeth hope, and after dread awakes,<br/> +Now hot, now cold; but thus betwixt the tway* *two<br/> +She rist* her up, and wente forth to play.** *rose **take recreation +</p> + +<p> +Adown the stair anon right then she went<br/> +Into a garden, with her nieces three,<br/> +And up and down they made many a went,* *winding, turn <12><br/> +Flexippe and she, Tarke, Antigone,<br/> +To playe, that it joy was for to see;<br/> +And other of her women, a great rout,* *troop<br/> +Her follow’d in the garden all about. +</p> + +<p> +This yard was large, and railed the alleys,<br/> +And shadow’d well with blossomy boughes green,<br/> +And benched new, and sanded all the ways,<br/> +In which she walked arm and arm between;<br/> +Till at the last Antigone the sheen* *bright, lovely<br/> +Gan on a Trojan lay to singe clear,<br/> +That it a heaven was her voice to hear. +</p> + +<p> +Antigone’s song is of virtuous love for a noble object; and it is +singularly fitted to deepen the impression made on the mind of +Cressida by the brave aspect of Troilus, and by her own +cogitations. The singer, having praised the lover and rebuked +the revilers of love, proceeds: +</p> + +<p> +“What is the Sunne worse of his *kind right,* *true nature*<br/> +Though that a man, for feebleness of eyen,<br/> +May not endure to see on it for bright? <27><br/> +Or Love the worse, tho’ wretches on it cryen?<br/> +No weal* is worth, that may no sorrow drien;** <28> *happiness **endure<br/> +And forthy,* who that hath a head of verre,** *therefore **glass <29><br/> +From cast of stones ware him in the werre. <30> +</p> + +<p> +“But I, with all my heart and all my might,<br/> +As I have lov’d, will love unto my last<br/> +My deare heart, and all my owen knight,<br/> +In which my heart y-growen is so fast,<br/> +And his in me, that it shall ever last<br/> +*All dread I* first to love him begin, *although I feared*<br/> +Now wot I well there is no pain therein.” +</p> + +<p> +Cressida sighs, and asks Antigone whether there is such bliss +among these lovers, as they can fair endite; Antigone replies +confidently in the affirmative; and Cressida answers nothing, +“but every worde which she heard she gan to printen in her +hearte fast.” Night draws on: +</p> + +<p> +The daye’s honour, and the heaven’s eye,<br/> +The nighte’s foe, — all this call I the Sun, —<br/> +Gan westren* fast, and downward for to wry,** *go west <31> **turn<br/> +As he that had his daye’s course y-run;<br/> +And white thinges gan to waxe dun<br/> +For lack of light, and starres to appear;<br/> +Then she and all her folk went home in fere.* *in company +</p> + +<p> +So, when it liked her to go to rest,<br/> +And voided* were those that voiden ought, *gone out (of the house)<br/> +She saide, that to sleepe well her lest.* *pleased<br/> +Her women soon unto her bed her brought;<br/> +When all was shut, then lay she still and thought<br/> +Of all these things the manner and the wise;<br/> +Rehearse it needeth not, for ye be wise. +</p> + +<p> +A nightingale upon a cedar green,<br/> +Under the chamber wall where as she lay,<br/> +Full loude sang against the moone sheen,<br/> +Parauntre,* in his birde’s wise, a lay *perchance<br/> +Of love, that made her hearte fresh and gay;<br/> +Hereat hark’d* she so long in good intent, *listened<br/> +Till at the last the deade sleep her hent.* *seized +</p> + +<p> +And as she slept, anon right then *her mette* *she dreamed*<br/> +How that an eagle, feather’d white as bone,<br/> +Under her breast his longe clawes set,<br/> +And out her heart he rent, and that anon,<br/> +And did* his heart into her breast to go’n, *caused<br/> +Of which no thing she was *abash’d nor smert;* *amazed nor hurt*<br/> +And forth he flew, with hearte left for heart. +</p> + +<p> +Leaving Cressida to sleep, the poet returns to Troilus and his +zealous friend — with whose stratagems to bring the two lovers +together the remainder of the Second Book is occupied. +Pandarus counsels Troilus to write a letter to his mistress, +telling her how he “fares amiss,” and “beseeching her of ruth;” +he will bear the letter to his niece; and, if Troilus will ride past +Cressida’s house, he will find his mistress and his friend sitting +at a window. Saluting Pandarus, and not tarrying, his passage +will give occasion for some talk of him, which may make his +ears glow. With respect to the letter, Pandarus gives some +shrewd hints: +</p> + +<p> +“Touching thy letter, thou art wise enough,<br/> +I wot thou *n’ilt it dignely endite* *wilt not write it haughtily*<br/> +Or make it with these argumentes tough,<br/> +Nor scrivener-like, nor craftily it write;<br/> +Beblot it with thy tears also a lite;* *little<br/> +And if thou write a goodly word all soft,<br/> +Though it be good, rehearse it not too oft. +</p> + +<p> +“For though the beste harper *pon live* *alive<br/> +Would on the best y-sounded jolly harp<br/> +That ever was, with all his fingers five<br/> +Touch ay one string, or *ay one warble harp,* *always play one tune*<br/> +Were his nailes pointed ne’er so sharp,<br/> +He shoulde maken ev’ry wight to dull* *to grow bored<br/> +To hear his glee, and of his strokes full. +</p> + +<p> +“Nor jompre* eke no discordant thing y-fere,** *jumble **together<br/> +As thus, to use termes of physic;<br/> +In love’s termes hold of thy mattere<br/> +The form alway, and *do that it be like;* *make it consistent*<br/> +For if a painter woulde paint a pike<br/> +With ass’s feet, and head it as an ape,<32><br/> +It *’cordeth not,* so were it but a jape.” *is not harmonious* +</p> + +<p> +Troilus writes the letter, and next morning Pandarus bears it to +Cressida. She refuses to receive “scrip or bill that toucheth such +mattere;” but he thrusts it into her bosom, challenging her to +throw it away. She retains it, takes the first opportunity of +escaping to her chamber to read it, finds it wholly good, and, +under her uncle’s dictation, endites a reply telling her lover that +she will not make herself bound in love; “but as his sister, him +to please, she would aye fain [be glad] to do his heart an ease.” +Pandarus, under pretext of inquiring who is the owner of the +house opposite, has gone to the window; Cressida takes her +letter to him there, and tells him that she never did a thing with +more pain than write the words to which he had constrained +her. As they sit side by side, on a stone of jasper, on a cushion +of beaten gold, Troilus rides by, in all his goodliness. Cressida +waxes “as red as rose,” as she sees him salute humbly, “with +dreadful cheer, and oft his hues mue [change];” she likes “all +y-fere, his person, his array, his look, his cheer, his goodly +manner, and his gentleness;” so that, however she may have +been before, “to goode hope now hath she caught a thorn, she +shall not pull it out this nexte week.” Pandarus, striking the iron +when it is hot, asks his niece to grant Troilus an interview; but +she strenuously declines, for fear of scandal, and because it is all +too soon to allow him so great a liberty — her purpose being to +love him unknown of all, “and guerdon [reward] him with +nothing but with sight.” Pandarus has other intentions; and, +while Troilus writes daily letters with increasing love, he +contrives the means of an interview. Seeking out Deiphobus, +the brother of Troilus, he tells him that Cressida is in danger of +violence from Polyphete, and asks protection for her. +Deiphobus gladly complies, promises the protection of Hector +and Helen, and goes to invite Cressida to dinner on the morrow. +Meantime Pandarus instructs Troilus to go to the house of +Deiphobus, plead an access of his fever for remaining all night, +and keep his chamber next day. “Lo,” says the crafty promoter +of love, borrowing a phrase from the hunting-field; “Lo, hold +thee at thy tristre [tryst <33>] close, and I shall well the deer +unto thy bowe drive.” Unsuspicious of stratagem, Cressida +comes to dinner; and at table, Helen, Pandarus, and others, +praise the absent Troilus, until “her heart laughs” for very pride +that she has the love of such a knight. After dinner they speak +of Cressida’s business; all confirm Deiphobus’ assurances of +protection and aid; and Pandarus suggests that, since Troilus is +there, Cressida shall herself tell him her case. Helen and +Deiphobus alone accompany Pandarus to Troilus’ chamber; +there Troilus produces some documents relating to the public +weal, which Hector has sent for his opinion; Helen and +Deiphobus, engrossed in perusal and discussion, roam out of +the chamber, by a stair, into the garden; while Pandarus goes +down to the hall, and, pretending that his brother and Helen are +still with Troilus, brings Cressida to her lover. The Second +Book leaves Pandarus whispering in his niece’s ear counsel to +be merciful and kind to her lover, that hath for her such pain; +while Troilus lies “in a kankerdort,” <34> hearing the +whispering without, and wondering what he shall say for this +“was the first time that he should her pray of love; O! mighty +God! what shall he say?” +</p> + +<h3>THE THIRD BOOK.</h3> + +<p> +To the Third Book is prefixed a beautiful invocation of Venus, +under the character of light: +</p> + +<p> +O Blissful light, of which the beames clear<br/> +Adornen all the thirde heaven fair!<br/> +O Sunne’s love, O Jove’s daughter dear!<br/> +Pleasance of love, O goodly debonair,* *lovely and gracious*<br/> +In gentle heart ay* ready to repair!** *always **enter and abide<br/> +O very* cause of heal** and of gladness, *true **welfare<br/> +Y-heried* be thy might and thy goodness! *praised +</p> + +<p> +In heav’n and hell, in earth and salte sea.<br/> +Is felt thy might, if that I well discern;<br/> +As man, bird, beast, fish, herb, and greene tree,<br/> +They feel in times, with vapour etern, <35><br/> +God loveth, and to love he will not wern forbid<br/> +And in this world no living creature<br/> +Withoute love is worth, or may endure. <36> +</p> + +<p> +Ye Jove first to those effectes glad,<br/> +Through which that thinges alle live and be,<br/> +Commended; and him amorous y-made<br/> +Of mortal thing; and as ye list,* ay ye *pleased<br/> +Gave him, in love, ease* or adversity, *pleasure<br/> +And in a thousand formes down him sent<br/> +For love in earth; and *whom ye list he hent.* *he seized whom you<br/> + wished*<br/> +Ye fierce Mars appeasen of his ire,<br/> +And as you list ye make heartes dign* <37> *worthy<br/> +Algates* them that ye will set afire, *at all events<br/> +They dreade shame, and vices they resign<br/> +Ye do* him courteous to be, and benign; *make, cause<br/> +And high or low, after* a wight intendeth, *according as<br/> +The joyes that he hath your might him sendeth. +</p> + +<p> +Ye holde realm and house in unity;<br/> +Ye soothfast* cause of friendship be also; *true<br/> +Ye know all thilke *cover’d quality* *secret power*<br/> +Of thinges which that folk on wonder so,<br/> +When they may not construe how it may go<br/> +She loveth him, or why he loveth her,<br/> +As why this fish, not that, comes to the weir.*<38> *fish-trap +</p> + +<p> +Knowing that Venus has set a law in the universe, that whoso +strives with her shall have the worse, the poet prays to be +taught to describe some of the joy that is felt in her service; and +the Third Book opens with an account of the scene between +Troilus and Cressida: +</p> + +<p> +Lay all this meane while Troilus<br/> +Recording* his lesson in this mannere; *memorizing<br/> +*“My fay!”* thought he, “thus will I say, and thus; *by my faith!*<br/> +Thus will I plain* unto my lady dear; *make my plaint<br/> +That word is good; and this shall be my cheer<br/> +This will I not forgetten in no wise;”<br/> +God let him worken as he can devise. +</p> + +<p> +And, Lord! so as his heart began to quap,* *quake, pant<br/> +Hearing her coming, and *short for to sike;* *make short sighs*<br/> +And Pandarus, that led her by the lap,* *skirt<br/> +Came near, and gan in at the curtain pick,* *peep<br/> +And saide: “God do boot* alle sick! *afford a remedy to<br/> +See who is here you coming to visite;<br/> +Lo! here is she that is *your death to wite!”* *to blame for your death* +</p> + +<p> +Therewith it seemed as he wept almost.<br/> +“Ah! ah! God help!” quoth Troilus ruefully;<br/> +“Whe’er* me be woe, O mighty God, thou know’st! *whether<br/> +Who is there? for I see not truely.”<br/> +“Sir,” quoth Cresside, “it is Pandare and I;<br/> +“Yea, sweete heart? alas, I may not rise<br/> +To kneel and do you honour in some wise.” +</p> + +<p> +And dressed him upward, and she right tho* *then<br/> +Gan both her handes soft upon him lay.<br/> +“O! for the love of God, do ye not so<br/> +To me,” quoth she; “ey! what is this to say?<br/> +For come I am to you for causes tway;* *two<br/> +First you to thank, and of your lordship eke<br/> +Continuance* I woulde you beseek.”** *protection **beseech +</p> + +<p> +This Troilus, that heard his lady pray<br/> +Him of lordship, wax’d neither quick nor dead;<br/> +Nor might one word for shame to it say, <39><br/> +Although men shoulde smiten off his head.<br/> +But, Lord! how he wax’d suddenly all red!<br/> +And, Sir, his lesson, that he *ween’d have con,* *thought he knew<br/> +To praye her, was through his wit y-run. by heart* +</p> + +<p> +Cresside all this espied well enow, —<br/> +For she was wise, — and lov’d him ne’er the less,<br/> +All n’ere he malapert, nor made avow,<br/> +Nor was so bold to sing a foole’s mass;<40><br/> +But, when his shame began somewhat to pass,<br/> +His wordes, as I may my rhymes hold,<br/> +I will you tell, as teache bookes old. +</p> + +<p> +In changed voice, right for his very dread,<br/> +Which voice eke quak’d, and also his mannere<br/> +Goodly* abash’d, and now his hue is red, *becomingly<br/> +Now pale, unto Cresside, his lady dear,<br/> +With look downcast, and humble *yielden cheer,* *submissive face*<br/> +Lo! *altherfirste word that him astert,* *the first word he said*<br/> +Was twice: “Mercy, mercy, my dear heart!” +</p> + +<p> +And stent* a while; and when he might *out bring,* *stopped *speak*<br/> +The nexte was: “God wote, for I have,<br/> +*As farforthly as I have conning,* *as far as I am able*<br/> +Been youres all, God so my soule save,<br/> +And shall, till that I, woeful wight, *be grave;* *die*<br/> +And though I dare not, cannot, to you plain,<br/> +Y-wis, I suffer not the lesse pain. +</p> + +<p> +“This much as now, O womanlike wife!<br/> +I may *out bring,* and if it you displease, *speak out*<br/> +That shall I wreak* upon mine owne life, *avenge<br/> +Right soon, I trow, and do your heart an ease,<br/> +If with my death your heart I may appease:<br/> +But, since that ye have heard somewhat say,<br/> +Now reck I never how soon that I dey.” *die +</p> + +<p> +Therewith his manly sorrow to behold<br/> +It might have made a heart of stone to rue;<br/> +And Pandare wept as he to water wo’ld, <41><br/> +And saide, “Woe-begone* be heartes true,” *in woeful plight<br/> +And procur’d* his niece ever new and new, *urged<br/> +“For love of Godde, make *of him an end,* *put him out of pain*<br/> +Or slay us both at ones, ere we wend.”* *go +</p> + +<p> +“Ey! what?” quoth she; “by God and by my truth,<br/> +I know not what ye woulde that I say;”<br/> +“Ey! what?” quoth he; “that ye have on him ruth,* *pity<br/> +For Godde’s love, and do him not to dey.” *die<br/> +“Now thenne thus,” quoth she, “I would him pray<br/> +To telle me the *fine of his intent;* *end of his desire*<br/> +Yet wist* I never well what that he meant.” *knew +</p> + +<p> +“What that I meane, sweete hearte dear?”<br/> +Quoth Troilus, “O goodly, fresh, and free!<br/> +That, with the streames* of your eyne so clear, *beams, glances<br/> +Ye woulde sometimes *on me rue and see,* *take pity and look on me*<br/> +And then agreen* that I may be he, *take in good part<br/> +Withoute branch of vice, in any wise,<br/> +In truth alway to do you my service, +</p> + +<p> +“As to my lady chief, and right resort,<br/> +With all my wit and all my diligence;<br/> +And for to have, right as you list, comfort;<br/> +Under your yerd,* equal to mine offence, *rod, chastisement<br/> +As death, if that *I breake your defence;* *do what you<br/> +And that ye deigne me so much honour, forbid <42>*<br/> +Me to commanden aught in any hour. +</p> + +<p> +“And I to be your very humble, true,<br/> +Secret, and in my paines patient,<br/> +And evermore desire, freshly new,<br/> +To serven, and be alike diligent,<br/> +And, with good heart, all wholly your talent<br/> +Receive in gree,* how sore that me smart; *gladness<br/> +Lo, this mean I, mine owen sweete heart.” +</p> + +<p> +. . . . . . . . . . +</p> + +<p> +With that she gan her eyen on him* cast, <43> *Pandarus<br/> +Full easily and full debonairly,* *graciously<br/> +*Advising her,* and hied* not too fast, *considering* **went<br/> +With ne’er a word, but said him softely,<br/> +“Mine honour safe, I will well truely,<br/> +And in such form as ye can now devise,<br/> +Receive him* fully to my service; *Troilus +</p> + +<p> +“Beseeching him, for Godde’s love, that he<br/> +Would, in honour of truth and gentleness,<br/> +As I well mean, eke meane well to me;<br/> +And mine honour, with *wit and business,* *wisdom and zeal*<br/> +Aye keep; and if I may do him gladness,<br/> +From henceforth, y-wis I will not feign:<br/> +Now be all whole, no longer do ye plain. +</p> + +<p> +“But, natheless, this warn I you,” quoth she,<br/> +“A kinge’s son although ye be, y-wis,<br/> +Ye shall no more have sovereignety<br/> +Of me in love, than right in this case is;<br/> +Nor will I forbear, if ye do amiss,<br/> +To wrathe* you, and, while that ye me serve, *be angry with, chide<br/> +To cherish you, *right after ye deserve.* *as you deserve* +</p> + +<p> +“And shortly, deare heart, and all my knight,<br/> +Be glad, and drawe you to lustiness,* *pleasure<br/> +And I shall truely, with all my might,<br/> +Your bitter turnen all to sweeteness;<br/> +If I be she that may do you gladness,<br/> +For ev’ry woe ye shall recover a bliss:”<br/> +And him in armes took, and gan him kiss. +</p> + +<p> +Pandarus, almost beside himself for joy, falls on his knees to +thank Venus and Cupid, declaring that for this miracle he hears +all the bells ring; then, with a warning to be ready at his call to +meet at his house, he parts the lovers, and attends Cressida +while she takes leave of the household — Troilus all the time +groaning at the deceit practised on his brother and Helen. When +he has got rid of them by feigning weariness, Pandarus returns +to the chamber, and spends the night with him in converse. The +zealous friend begins to speak “in a sober wise” to Troilus, +reminding him of his love-pains now all at an end. +</p> + +<p> +“So that through me thou standest now in way<br/> +To fare well; I say it for no boast;<br/> +And know’st thou why? For, shame it is to say,<br/> +For thee have I begun a game to play,<br/> +Which that I never shall do eft* for other,** *again **another<br/> +Although he were a thousand fold my brother. +</p> + +<p> +“That is to say, for thee I am become,<br/> +Betwixte game and earnest, such a mean* *means, instrument<br/> +As make women unto men to come;<br/> +Thou know’st thyselfe what that woulde mean;<br/> +For thee have I my niece, of vices clean,* *pure, devoid<br/> +So fully made thy gentleness* to trust, *nobility of nature<br/> +That all shall be right *as thyselfe lust.* *as you please* +</p> + +<p> +“But God, that *all wot,* take I to witness, *knows everything*<br/> +That never this for covetise* I wrought, *greed of gain<br/> +But only to abridge* thy distress, *abate<br/> +For which well nigh thou diedst, as me thought;<br/> +But, goode brother, do now as thee ought,<br/> +For Godde’s love, and keep her out of blame;<br/> +Since thou art wise, so save thou her name. +</p> + +<p> +“For, well thou know’st, the name yet of her,<br/> +Among the people, as who saith hallow’d is;<br/> +For that man is unborn, I dare well swear,<br/> +That ever yet wist* that she did amiss; *knew<br/> +But woe is me, that I, that cause all this,<br/> +May thinke that she is my niece dear,<br/> +And I her eme,* and traitor eke y-fere.** *uncle <17> **as well +</p> + +<p> +“And were it wist that I, through mine engine,* *arts, contrivance<br/> +Had in my niece put this fantasy* *fancy<br/> +To do thy lust,* and wholly to be thine, *pleasure<br/> +Why, all the people would upon it cry,<br/> +And say, that I the worste treachery<br/> +Did in this case, that ever was begun,<br/> +And she fordone,* and thou right naught y-won.” *ruined +</p> + +<p> +Therefore, ere going a step further, Pandarus prays Troilus to +give him pledges of secrecy, and impresses on his mind the +mischiefs that flow from vaunting in affairs of love. “Of +kind,”[by his very nature] he says, no vaunter is to be believed: +</p> + +<p> +“For a vaunter and a liar all is one;<br/> +As thus: I pose* a woman granteth me *suppose, assume<br/> +Her love, and saith that other will she none,<br/> +And I am sworn to holden it secre,<br/> +And, after, I go tell it two or three;<br/> +Y-wis, I am a vaunter, at the least,<br/> +And eke a liar, for I break my hest.*<44> *promise +</p> + +<p> +“Now looke then, if they be not to blame,<br/> +Such manner folk; what shall I call them, what?<br/> +That them avaunt of women, and by name,<br/> +That never yet behight* them this nor that, *promised (much<br/> +Nor knowe them no more than mine old hat? less granted)<br/> +No wonder is, so God me sende heal,* *prosperity<br/> +Though women dreade with us men to deal! +</p> + +<p> +“I say not this for no mistrust of you,<br/> +Nor for no wise men, but for fooles nice;* *silly <45><br/> +And for the harm that in the world is now,<br/> +As well for folly oft as for malice;<br/> +For well wot I, that in wise folk that vice<br/> +No woman dreads, if she be well advised;<br/> +For wise men be by fooles’ harm chastised.”* *corrected, instructed +</p> + +<p> +So Pandarus begs Troilus to keep silent, promises to be true all +his days, and assures him that he shall have all that he will in the +love of Cressida: “thou knowest what thy lady granted thee; and +day is set the charters up to make.” +</p> + +<p> +Who mighte telle half the joy and feast<br/> +Which that the soul of Troilus then felt,<br/> +Hearing th’effect of Pandarus’ behest?<br/> +His olde woe, that made his hearte swelt,* *faint, die<br/> +Gan then for joy to wasten and to melt,<br/> +And all the reheating <46> of his sighes sore<br/> +At ones fled, he felt of them no more. +</p> + +<p> +But right so as these *holtes and these hayes,* *woods and hedges*<br/> +That have in winter deade been and dry,<br/> +Reveste them in greene, when that May is,<br/> +When ev’ry *lusty listeth* best to play; *pleasant (one) wishes*<br/> +Right in that selfe wise, sooth to say,<br/> +Wax’d suddenly his hearte full of joy,<br/> +That gladder was there never man in Troy. +</p> + +<p> +Troilus solemnly swears that never, “for all the good that God +made under sun,” will he reveal what Pandarus asks him to keep +secret; offering to die a thousand times, if need were, and to +follow his friend as a slave all his life, in proof of his gratitude. +</p> + +<p> +“But here, with all my heart, I thee beseech,<br/> +That never in me thou deeme* such folly *judge<br/> +As I shall say; me thoughte, by thy speech,<br/> +That this which thou me dost for company,* *friendship<br/> +I shoulde ween it were a bawdery;* *a bawd’s action<br/> +*I am not wood, all if I lewed be;* *I am not mad, though<br/> +It is not one, that wot I well, pardie! I be unlearned* +</p> + +<p> +“But he that goes for gold, or for richess,<br/> +On such messages, call him *as thee lust;* *what you please*<br/> +And this that thou dost, call it gentleness,<br/> +Compassion, and fellowship, and trust;<br/> +Depart it so, for widewhere is wist<br/> +How that there is diversity requer’d<br/> +Betwixte thinges like, as I have lear’d. <47> +</p> + +<p> +“And that thou know I think it not nor ween,* *suppose<br/> +That this service a shame be or a jape, *subject for jeering<br/> +I have my faire sister Polyxene,<br/> +Cassandr’, Helene, or any of the frape;* *set <48><br/> +Be she never so fair, or well y-shape,<br/> +Telle me which thou wilt of ev’ry one,<br/> +To have for thine, and let me then alone.” +</p> + +<p> +Then, beseeching Pandarus soon to perform out the great +enterprise of crowning his love for Cressida, Troilus bade his +friend good night. On the morrow Troilus burned as the fire, for +hope and pleasure; yet “he not forgot his wise governance [self- +control];” +</p> + +<p> +But in himself with manhood gan restrain<br/> +Each rakel* deed, and each unbridled cheer,** *rash **demeanour<br/> +That alle those that live, sooth to sayn,<br/> +Should not have wist,* by word or by mannere, *suspicion<br/> +What that he meant, as touching this mattere;<br/> +From ev’ry wight as far as is the cloud<br/> +He was, so well dissimulate he could. +</p> + +<p> +And all the while that I now devise* *describe, narrate<br/> +This was his life: with all his fulle might,<br/> +By day he was in Marte’s high service,<br/> +That is to say, in armes as a knight;<br/> +And, for the moste part, the longe night<br/> +He lay, and thought how that he mighte serve<br/> +His lady best, her thank* for to deserve. *gratitude +</p> + +<p> +I will not swear, although he laye soft,<br/> +That in his thought he n’as somewhat diseas’d;* *troubled<br/> +Nor that he turned on his pillows oft,<br/> +And would of that him missed have been seis’d;* *possessed<br/> +But in such case men be not alway pleas’d,<br/> +For aught I wot, no more than was he;<br/> +That can I deem* of possibility. *judge +</p> + +<p> +But certain is, to purpose for to go,<br/> +That in this while, as written is in gest,* *the history of<br/> +He saw his lady sometimes, and also these events<br/> +She with him spake, when that she *durst and lest;* *dared and pleased*<br/> +And, by their both advice,* as was the best, *consultation<br/> +*Appointed full warily* in this need, *made careful preparations*<br/> +So as they durst, how far they would proceed. +</p> + +<p> +But it was spoken in *so short a wise, *so briefly, and always in such<br/> +In such await alway, and in such fear, vigilance and fear of being<br/> +Lest any wight divinen or devise* found out by anyone*<br/> +Would of their speech, or to it lay an ear,<br/> +*That all this world them not so lefe were,* *they wanted more than<br/> +As that Cupido would them grace send anything in the world*<br/> +To maken of their speeches right an end. +</p> + +<p> +But thilke little that they spake or wrought,<br/> +His wise ghost* took ay of all such heed, *spirit<br/> +It seemed her he wiste what she thought<br/> +Withoute word, so that it was no need<br/> +To bid him aught to do, nor aught forbid;<br/> +For which she thought that love, all* came it late, *although<br/> +Of alle joy had open’d her the gate. +</p> + +<p> +Troilus, by his discretion, his secrecy, and his devotion, made +ever a deeper lodgment in Cressida’s heart; so that she thanked +God twenty thousand times that she had met with a man who, +as she felt, “was to her a wall of steel, and shield from ev’ry +displeasance;” while Pandarus ever actively fanned the fire. So +passed a “time sweet” of tranquil and harmonious love the only +drawback being, that the lovers might not often meet, “nor +leisure have, their speeches to fulfil.” At last Pandarus found an +occasion for bringing them together at his house unknown to +anybody, and put his plan in execution. +</p> + +<p> +For he, with great deliberation,<br/> +Had ev’ry thing that hereto might avail* *be of service<br/> +Forecast, and put in execution,<br/> +And neither left for cost nor for travail;* *effort<br/> +Come if them list, them shoulde nothing fail,<br/> +*Nor for to be in aught espied there,<br/> +That wiste he an impossible were.* *he knew it was impossible*<br/> + that they could be discovered there*<br/> +And dreadeless* it clear was in the wind *without doubt<br/> +Of ev’ry pie, and every let-game; <49><br/> +Now all is well, for all this world is blind,<br/> +In this mattere, bothe fremd* and tame; <50> *wild<br/> +This timber is all ready for to frame;<br/> +Us lacketh naught, but that we weete* wo’ld *know<br/> +A certain hour in which we come sho’ld. <51> +</p> + +<p> +Troilus had informed his household, that if at any time he was +missing, he had gone to worship at a certain temple of Apollo, +“and first to see the holy laurel quake, or that the godde spake +out of the tree.” So, at the changing of the moon, when “the +welkin shope him for to rain,” [when the sky was preparing to +rain] Pandarus went to invite his niece to supper; solemnly +assuring her that Troilus was out of the town — though all the +time he was safely shut up, till midnight, in “a little stew,” +whence through a hole he joyously watched the arrival of his +mistress and her fair niece Antigone, with half a score of her +women. After supper Pandaras did everything to amuse his +niece; “he sung, he play’d, he told a tale of Wade;” <52> at last +she would take her leave; but +</p> + +<p> +The bente Moone with her hornes pale,<br/> +Saturn, and Jove, in Cancer joined were, <53><br/> +That made such a rain from heav’n avail,* *descend<br/> +That ev’ry manner woman that was there<br/> +Had of this smoky rain <54> a very fear;<br/> +At which Pandarus laugh’d, and saide then<br/> +“Now were it time a lady to go hen!”* *hence +</p> + +<p> +He therefore presses Cressida to remain all night; she complies +with a good grace; and after the sleeping cup has gone round, +all retire to their chambers — Cressida, that she may not be +disturbed by the rain and thunder, being lodged in the “inner +closet” of Pandarus, who, to lull suspicion, occupies the outer +chamber, his niece’s women sleeping in the intermediate +apartment. When all is quiet, Pandarus liberates Troilus, and by +a secret passage brings him to the chamber of Cressida; then, +going forward alone to his niece, after calming her fears of +discovery, he tells her that her lover has “through a gutter, by a +privy went,” [a secret passage] come to his house in all this rain, +mad with grief because a friend has told him that she loves +Horastes. Suddenly cold about her heart, Cressida promises that +on the morrow she will reassure her lover; but Pandarus scouts +the notion of delay, laughs to scorn her proposal to send her +ring in pledge of her truth, and finally, by pitiable accounts of +Troilus’ grief, induces her to receive him and reassure him at +once with her own lips. +</p> + +<p> +This Troilus full soon on knees him set,<br/> +Full soberly, right by her bedde’s head,<br/> +And in his beste wise his lady gret* *greeted<br/> +But Lord! how she wax’d suddenly all red,<br/> +And thought anon how that she would be dead;<br/> +She coulde not one word aright out bring,<br/> +So suddenly for his sudden coming. +</p> + +<p> +Cressida, though thinking that her servant and her knight should +not have doubted her truth, yet sought to remove his jealousy, +and offered to submit to any ordeal or oath he might impose; +then, weeping, she covered her face, and lay silent. “But now,” +exclaims the poet — +</p> + +<p> +But now help, God, to quenchen all this sorrow!<br/> +So hope I that he shall, for he best may;<br/> +For I have seen, of a full misty morrow,* *morn<br/> +Followen oft a merry summer’s day,<br/> +And after winter cometh greene May;<br/> +Folk see all day, and eke men read in stories,<br/> +That after sharpe stoures* be victories. *conflicts, struggles +</p> + +<p> +Believing his mistress to be angry, Troilus felt the cramp of +death seize on his heart, “and down he fell all suddenly in +swoon.” Pandarus “into bed him cast,” and called on his niece to +pull out the thorn that stuck in his heart, by promising that she +would “all forgive.” She whispered in his ear the assurance that +she was not wroth; and at last, under her caresses, he recovered +consciousness, to find her arm laid over him, to hear the +assurance of her forgiveness, and receive her frequent kisses. +Fresh vows and explanations passed; and Cressida implored +forgiveness of “her own sweet heart,” for the pain she had +caused him. Surprised with sudden bliss, Troilus put all in God’s +hand, and strained his lady fast in his arms. “What might or may +the seely [innocent] larke say, when that the sperhawk +[sparrowhawk] hath him in his foot?” +</p> + +<p> +Cressida, which that felt her thus y-take,<br/> +As write clerkes in their bookes old,<br/> +Right as an aspen leaf began to quake,<br/> +When she him felt her in his armes fold;<br/> +But Troilus, all *whole of cares cold,* *cured of painful sorrows*<55><br/> +Gan thanke then the blissful goddes seven. <56><br/> +Thus sundry paines bringe folk to heaven. +</p> + +<p> +This Troilus her gan in armes strain,<br/> +And said, “O sweet, as ever may I go’n,* *prosper<br/> +Now be ye caught, now here is but we twain,<br/> +Now yielde you, for other boot* is none.” *remedy<br/> +To that Cresside answered thus anon,<br/> +“N’ had I ere now, my sweete hearte dear,<br/> +*Been yolden,* y-wis, I were now not here!” *yielded myself* +</p> + +<p> +O sooth is said, that healed for to be<br/> +Of a fever, or other great sickness,<br/> +Men muste drink, as we may often see,<br/> +Full bitter drink; and for to have gladness<br/> +Men drinken often pain and great distress!<br/> +I mean it here, as for this adventure,<br/> +That thorough pain hath founden all his cure. +</p> + +<p> +And now sweetnesse seemeth far more sweet,<br/> +That bitterness assayed* was beforn; *tasted <57><br/> +For out of woe in blisse now they fleet,* *float, swim<br/> +None such they felte since that they were born;<br/> +Now is it better than both two were lorn! <58><br/> +For love of God, take ev’ry woman heed<br/> +To worke thus, if it come to the need! +</p> + +<p> +Cresside, all quit from ev’ry dread and teen,* *pain<br/> +As she that juste cause had him to trust,<br/> +Made him such feast,<59> it joy was for to see’n,<br/> +When she his truth and *intent cleane wist;* *knew the purity<br/> +And as about a tree, with many a twist, of his purpose*<br/> +*Bitrent and writhen* is the sweet woodbind, *plaited and wreathed*<br/> +Gan each of them in armes other wind.* *embrace, encircle +</p> + +<p> +And as the *new abashed* nightingale, *newly-arrived and timid*<br/> +That stinteth,* first when she beginneth sing, *stops<br/> +When that she heareth any *herde’s tale,* *the talking of a shepherd*<br/> +Or in the hedges any wight stirring;<br/> +And, after, sicker* out her voice doth ring; *confidently<br/> +Right so Cressida, when *her dreade stent,* *her doubt ceased*<br/> +Open’d her heart, and told him her intent.* *mind +</p> + +<p> +And might as he that sees his death y-shapen,* *prepared<br/> +And dien must, *in aught that he may guess,* *for all he can tell*<br/> +And suddenly *rescouse doth him escapen,* *he is rescued and escapes*<br/> +And from his death is brought *in sickerness;* *to safety*<br/> +For all the world, in such present gladness<br/> +Was Troilus, and had his lady sweet;<br/> +With worse hap God let us never meet! +</p> + +<p> +Her armes small, her straighte back and soft,<br/> +Her sides longe, fleshly, smooth, and white,<br/> +He gan to stroke; and good thrift* bade full oft *blessing<br/> +On her snow-white throat, her breastes round and lite;* *small<br/> +Thus in this heaven he gan him delight,<br/> +And therewithal a thousand times her kist,<br/> +That what to do for joy *unneth he wist.* *he hardly knew* +</p> + +<p> +The lovers exchanged vows, and kisses, and embraces, and +speeches of exalted love, and rings; Cressida gave to Troilus a +brooch of gold and azure, “in which a ruby set was like a heart;” +and the too short night passed. +</p> + +<p> +“When that the cock, commune astrologer, <60><br/> +Gan on his breast to beat, and after crow,<br/> +And Lucifer, the daye’s messenger,<br/> +Gan for to rise, and out his beames throw;<br/> +And eastward rose, to him that could it know,<br/> +Fortuna Major, <61> then anon Cresseide,<br/> +With hearte sore, to Troilus thus said: +</p> + +<p> +“My hearte’s life, my trust, and my pleasance!<br/> +That I was born, alas! that me is woe,<br/> +That day of us must make disseverance!<br/> +For time it is to rise, and hence to go,<br/> +Or else I am but lost for evermo’.<br/> +O Night! alas! why n’ilt thou o’er us hove,* *hover<br/> +As long as when Alcmena lay by Jove? <62> +</p> + +<p> +“O blacke Night! as folk in bookes read<br/> +That shapen* art by God, this world to hide, *appointed<br/> +At certain times, with thy darke weed,* *robe<br/> +That under it men might in rest abide,<br/> +Well oughte beastes plain, and folke chide,<br/> +That where as Day with labour would us brest,* *burst, overcome<br/> +There thou right flee’st, and deignest* not us rest.* *grantest +</p> + +<p> +“Thou dost, alas! so shortly thine office,* *duty<br/> +Thou rakel* Night! that God, maker of kind, *rash, hasty<br/> +Thee for thy haste and thine unkinde vice,<br/> +So fast ay to our hemisphere bind,<br/> +That never more under the ground thou wind;* *turn, revolve<br/> +For through thy rakel hieing* out of Troy *hasting<br/> +Have I forgone* thus hastily my joy!” *lost +</p> + +<p> +This Troilus, that with these wordes felt,<br/> +As thought him then, for piteous distress,<br/> +The bloody teares from his hearte melt,<br/> +As he that never yet such heaviness<br/> +Assayed had out of so great gladness,<br/> +Gan therewithal Cresside, his lady dear,<br/> +In armes strain, and said in this mannere: +</p> + +<p> +“O cruel Day! accuser of the joy<br/> +That Night and Love have stol’n, and *fast y-wrien!* *closely<br/> +Accursed be thy coming into Troy! concealed*<br/> +For ev’ry bow’r* hath one of thy bright eyen: *chamber<br/> +Envious Day! Why list thee to espyen?<br/> +What hast thou lost? Why seekest thou this place?<br/> +There God thy light so quenche, for his grace! +</p> + +<p> +“Alas! what have these lovers thee aguilt?* *offended, sinned against<br/> +Dispiteous* Day, thine be the pains of hell! *cruel, spiteful<br/> +For many a lover hast thou slain, and wilt;<br/> +Thy peering in will nowhere let them dwell:<br/> +What! proff’rest thou thy light here for to sell?<br/> +Go sell it them that smalle seales grave!* *cut devices on<br/> +We will thee not, us needs no day to have.” +</p> + +<p> +And eke the Sunne, Titan, gan he chide,<br/> +And said, “O fool! well may men thee despise!<br/> +That hast the Dawning <63> all night thee beside,<br/> +And suff’rest her so soon up from thee rise,<br/> +For to disease* us lovers in this wise! *annoy<br/> +What! hold* thy bed, both thou, and eke thy Morrow! *keep<br/> +I bidde* God so give you bothe sorrow!” *pray +</p> + +<p> +The lovers part with many sighs and protestations of +unswerving and undying love; Cressida responding to the vows +of Troilus with the assurance — +</p> + +<p> +“That first shall Phoebus* falle from his sphere, *the sun<br/> +And heaven’s eagle be the dove’s fere,<br/> +And ev’ry rock out of his place start,<br/> +Ere Troilus out of Cressida’s heart.” +</p> + +<p> +When Pandarus visits Troilus in his palace later in the day, he +warns him not to mar his bliss by any fault of his own: +</p> + +<p> +“For, of Fortune’s sharp adversity,<br/> +The worste kind of infortune is this,<br/> +A man to have been in prosperity,<br/> +And it remember when it passed is.<64><br/> +Thou art wise enough; forthy,*” do not amiss; *therefore<br/> +Be not too rakel,* though thou sitte warm; *rash, over-hasty<br/> +For if thou be, certain it will thee harm. +</p> + +<p> +“Thou art at ease, and hold thee well therein;<br/> +For, all so sure as red is ev’ry fire,<br/> +As great a craft is to keep weal as win; <65><br/> +Bridle alway thy speech and thy desire,<br/> +For worldly joy holds not but by a wire;<br/> +That proveth well, it breaks all day so oft,<br/> +Forthy need is to worke with it soft.” +</p> + +<p> +Troilus sedulously observes the counsel; and the lovers have +many renewals of their pleasure, and of their bitter chidings of +the Day. The effects of love on Troilus are altogether refining +and ennobling; as may be inferred from the song which he sung +often to Pandarus: +</p> + +<p> +The Second Song of Troilus. +</p> + +<p> +“Love, that of Earth and Sea hath governance!<br/> +Love, that his hestes* hath in Heaven high! *commandments<br/> +Love, that with a right wholesome alliance<br/> +Holds people joined, as him list them guy!* *guide<br/> +Love, that knitteth law and company,<br/> +And couples doth in virtue for to dwell,<br/> +Bind this accord, that I have told, and tell! +</p> + +<p> +“That the worlde, with faith which that is stable,<br/> +Diverseth so, his *stoundes according;* *according to its seasons*<br/> +That elementes, that be discordable,* *discordant<br/> +Holden a bond perpetually during;<br/> +That Phoebus may his rosy day forth bring;<br/> +And that the Moon hath lordship o’er the night; —<br/> +All this doth Love, ay heried* be his might! *praised +</p> + +<p> +“That the sea, which that greedy is to flowen,<br/> +Constraineth to a certain ende* so *limit<br/> +His floodes, that so fiercely they not growen<br/> +To drenchen* earth and all for evermo’; *drown<br/> +And if that Love aught let his bridle go,<br/> +All that now loves asunder shoulde leap,<br/> +And lost were all that Love holds now *to heap.* *together <66>* +</p> + +<p> +“So woulde God, that author is of kind,<br/> +That with his bond Love of his virtue list<br/> +To cherish heartes, and all fast to bind,<br/> +That from his bond no wight the way out wist!<br/> +And heartes cold, them would I that he twist,* *turned<br/> +To make them love; and that him list ay rue* *have pity<br/> +On heartes sore, and keep them that be true.” +</p> + +<p> +But Troilus’ love had higher fruits than singing: +</p> + +<p> +In alle needes for the towne’s werre* *war<br/> +He was, and ay the first in armes dight,* *equipped, prepared<br/> +And certainly, but if that bookes err,<br/> +Save Hector, most y-dread* of any wight; *dreaded<br/> +And this increase of hardiness* and might *courage<br/> +Came him of love, his lady’s grace to win,<br/> +That altered his spirit so within. +</p> + +<p> +In time of truce, a-hawking would he ride,<br/> +Or elles hunt the boare, bear, lioun;<br/> +The smalle beastes let he go beside;<67><br/> +And when he came riding into the town,<br/> +Full oft his lady, from her window down,<br/> +As fresh as falcon coming out of mew,* *cage <68><br/> +Full ready was him goodly to salue.* *salute +</p> + +<p> +And most of love and virtue was his speech,<br/> +And *in despite he had all wretchedness* *he held in scorn all<br/> +And doubtless no need was him to beseech despicable actions*<br/> +To honour them that hadde worthiness,<br/> +And ease them that weren in distress;<br/> +And glad was he, if any wight well far’d,<br/> +That lover was, when he it wist or heard. +</p> + +<p> +For he held every man lost unless he were in Love’s service; +and, so did the power of Love work within him, that he was ay +[always] humble and benign, and “pride, envy, ire, and avarice, +he gan to flee, and ev’ry other vice.” +</p> + +<h3>THE FOURTH BOOK</h3> + +<p> +A BRIEF Proem to the Fourth Book prepares us for the +treachery of Fortune to Troilus; from whom she turned away +her bright face, and took of him no heed, “and cast him clean +out of his lady’s grace, and on her wheel she set up Diomede.” +Then the narrative describes a skirmish in which the Trojans +were worsted, and Antenor, with many of less note, remained in +the hands of the Greeks. A truce was proclaimed for the +exchange of prisoners; and as soon as Calchas heard the news, +he came to the assembly of the Greeks, to “bid a boon.” Having +gained audience, he reminded the besiegers how he had come +from Troy to aid and encourage them in their enterprise; willing +to lose all that he had in the city, except his daughter Cressida, +whom he bitterly reproached himself for leaving behind. And +now, with streaming tears and pitiful prayer, he besought them +to exchange Antenor for Cressida; assuring them that the day +was at hand when they should have both town and people. The +soothsayer’s petition was granted; and the ambassadors charged +to negotiate the exchange, entering the city, told their errand to +King Priam and his parliament. +</p> + +<p> +This Troilus was present in the place<br/> +When asked was for Antenor Cresside;<br/> +For which to change soon began his face,<br/> +As he that with the wordes well nigh died;<br/> +But natheless he no word to it seid;* *said<br/> +Lest men should his affection espy,<br/> +With manne’s heart he gan his sorrows drie;* *endure +</p> + +<p> +And, full of anguish and of grisly dread,<br/> +Abode what other lords would to it say,<br/> +And if they woulde grant, — as God forbid! —<br/> +Th’exchange of her, then thought he thinges tway:* *two<br/> +First, for to save her honour; and what way<br/> +He mighte best th’exchange of her withstand;<br/> +This cast he then how all this mighte stand. +</p> + +<p> +Love made him alle *prest to do her bide,* *eager to make her stay*<br/> +And rather die than that she shoulde go;<br/> +But Reason said him, on the other side,<br/> +“Without th’assent of her, do thou not so,<br/> +Lest for thy worke she would be thy foe;<br/> +And say, that through thy meddling is y-blow* *divulged, blown abroad<br/> +Your bothe love, where it was *erst unknow.”* *previously unknown* +</p> + +<p> +For which he gan deliberate for the best,<br/> +That though the lordes woulde that she went,<br/> +He woulde suffer them grant what *them lest,* *they pleased*<br/> +And tell his lady first what that they meant;<br/> +And, when that she had told him her intent,<br/> +Thereafter would he worken all so blive,* *speedily<br/> +Though all the world against it woulde strive. +</p> + +<p> +Hector, which that full well the Greekes heard,<br/> +For Antenor how they would have Cresseide,<br/> +Gan it withstand, and soberly answer’d;<br/> +“Sirs, she is no prisoner,” he said;<br/> +“I know not on you who this charge laid;<br/> +But, for my part, ye may well soon him tell,<br/> +We use* here no women for to sell.” *are accustomed +</p> + +<p> +The noise of the people then upstart at once,<br/> +As breme* as blaze of straw y-set on fire *violent, furious<br/> +For Infortune* woulde for the nonce *Misfortune<br/> +They shoulde their confusion desire<br/> +“Hector,” quoth they, “what ghost* may you inspire *spirit<br/> +This woman thus to shield, and *do us* lose *cause us to*<br/> +Dan Antenor? — a wrong way now ye choose, — +</p> + +<p> +“That is so wise, and eke so bold baroun;<br/> +And we have need of folk, as men may see<br/> +He eke is one the greatest of this town;<br/> +O Hector! lette such fantasies be!<br/> +O King Priam!” quoth they, “lo! thus say we,<br/> +That all our will is to forego Cresseide;”<br/> +And to deliver Antenor they pray’d. +</p> + +<p> +Though Hector often prayed them “nay,” it was resolved that +Cressida should be given up for Antenor; then the parliament +dispersed. Troilus hastened home to his chamber, shut himself +up alone, and threw himself on his bed. +</p> + +<p> +And as in winter leaves be bereft,<br/> +Each after other, till the tree be bare,<br/> +So that there is but bark and branch y-left,<br/> +Lay Troilus, bereft of each welfare,<br/> +Y-bounden in the blacke bark of care,<br/> +Disposed *wood out of his wit to braid,* *to go out of his senses*<br/> +*So sore him sat* the changing of Cresseide. *so ill did he bear* +</p> + +<p> +He rose him up, and ev’ry door he shet,* *shut<br/> +And window eke; and then this sorrowful man<br/> +Upon his bedde’s side adown him set,<br/> +Full like a dead image, pale and wan,<br/> +And in his breast the heaped woe began<br/> +Out burst, and he to worken in this wise,<br/> +In his woodness,* as I shall you devise.** *madness **relate +</p> + +<p> +Right as the wilde bull begins to spring,<br/> +Now here, now there, y-darted* to the heart, *pierced with a dart<br/> +And of his death roareth in complaining;<br/> +Right so gan he about the chamber start,<br/> +Smiting his breast aye with his fistes smart;* *painfully, cruelly<br/> +His head to the wall, his body to the ground,<br/> +Full oft he swapt,* himselfe to confound. *struck, dashed +</p> + +<p> +His eyen then, for pity of his heart,<br/> +Out streameden as swifte welles* tway; *fountains<br/> +The highe sobbes of his sorrow’s smart<br/> +His speech him reft; unnethes* might he say, *scarcely<br/> +“O Death, alas! *why n’ilt thou do me dey?* *why will you not<br/> +Accursed be that day which that Nature make me die?*<br/> +Shope* me to be a living creature!” *shaped +</p> + +<p> +Bitterly reviling Fortune, and calling on Love to explain why his +happiness with Cressicla should be thus repealed, Troilus +declares that, while he lives, he will bewail his misfortune in +solitude, and will never see it shine or rain, but will end his +sorrowful life in darkness, and die in distress. +</p> + +<p> +“O weary ghost, that errest to and fro!<br/> +Why n’ilt* thou fly out of the woefulest *wilt not<br/> +Body that ever might on grounde go?<br/> +O soule, lurking in this woeful nest!<br/> +Flee forth out of my heart, and let it brest,* *burst<br/> +And follow alway Cresside, thy lady dear!<br/> +Thy righte place is now no longer here. +</p> + +<p> +“O woeful eyen two! since your disport* *delight<br/> +Was all to see Cressida’s eyen bright,<br/> +What shall ye do, but, for my discomfort,<br/> +Stande for naught, and weepen out your sight,<br/> +Since she is quench’d, that wont was you to light?<br/> +In vain, from this forth, have I eyen tway<br/> +Y-formed, since your virtue is away! +</p> + +<p> +“O my Cresside! O lady sovereign<br/> +Of thilke* woeful soule that now cryeth! *this<br/> +Who shall now give comfort to thy pain?<br/> +Alas! no wight; but, when my hearte dieth,<br/> +My spirit, which that so unto you hieth,* *hasteneth<br/> +Receive *in gree,* for that shall ay you serve; *with favour*<br/> +*Forthy no force is* though the body sterve.* *therefore no matter*<br/> + *die<br/> +“O ye lovers, that high upon the wheel<br/> +Be set of Fortune, in good adventure,<br/> +God lene* that ye find ay** love of steel,<69> *grant **always<br/> +And longe may your life in joy endure!<br/> +But when ye come by my sepulture,* *sepulchre<br/> +Remember that your fellow resteth there;<br/> +For I lov’d eke, though I unworthy were. +</p> + +<p> +“O old, unwholesome, and mislived man,<br/> +Calchas I mean, alas! what ailed thee<br/> +To be a Greek, since thou wert born Trojan?<br/> +O Calchas! which that will my bane* be, *destruction<br/> +In cursed time wert thou born for me!<br/> +As woulde blissful Jove, for his joy,<br/> +That I thee hadde where I would in Troy!” +</p> + +<p> +Soon Troilus, through excess of grief, fell into a trance; in +which he was found by Pandarus, who had gone almost +distracted at the news that Cressida was to be exchanged for +Antenor. At his friend’s arrival, Troilus “gan as the snow against +the sun to melt;” the two mingled their tears a while; then +Pandarus strove to comfort the woeful lover. He admitted that +never had a stranger ruin than this been wrought by Fortune: +</p> + +<p> +“But tell me this, why thou art now so mad<br/> +To sorrow thus? Why li’st thou in this wise,<br/> +Since thy desire all wholly hast thou had,<br/> +So that by right it ought enough suffice?<br/> +But I, that never felt in my service<br/> +A friendly cheer or looking of an eye,<br/> +Let me thus weep and wail until I die. <70> +</p> + +<p> +“And over all this, as thou well wost* thy selve, *knowest<br/> +This town is full of ladies all about,<br/> +And, *to my doom,* fairer than suche twelve *in my judgment*<br/> +As ever she was, shall I find in some rout,* *company<br/> +Yea! one or two, withouten any doubt:<br/> +Forthy* be glad, mine owen deare brother! *therefore<br/> +If she be lost, we shall recover another. +</p> + +<p> +“What! God forbid alway that each pleasance<br/> +In one thing were, and in none other wight;<br/> +If one can sing, another can well dance;<br/> +If this be goodly, she is glad and light;<br/> +And this is fair, and that can good aright;<br/> +Each for his virtue holden is full dear,<br/> +Both heroner, and falcon for rivere. <71> +</p> + +<p> +“And eke as writ Zausis,<72> that was full wise,<br/> +The newe love out chaseth oft the old,<br/> +And upon new case lieth new advice; <73><br/> +Think eke thy life to save thou art hold;* *bound<br/> +Such fire *by process shall of kinde cold;* *shall grow cold by<br/> +For, since it is but casual pleasance, process of nature*<br/> +Some case* shall put it out of remembrance. *chance +</p> + +<p> +“For, all so sure as day comes after night,<br/> +The newe love, labour, or other woe,<br/> +Or elles seldom seeing of a wight,<br/> +Do old affections all *over go;* *overcome*<br/> +And for thy part, thou shalt have one of tho* *those<br/> +T’abridge with thy bitter paine’s smart;<br/> +Absence of her shall drive her out of heart.” +</p> + +<p> +These wordes said he *for the nones all,* *only for the nonce*<br/> +To help his friend, lest he for sorrow died;<br/> +For, doubteless, to do his woe to fall,* *make his woe subside*<br/> +He raughte* not what unthrift** that he said; *cared **folly<br/> +But Troilus, that nigh for sorrow died,<br/> +Took little heed of all that ever he meant;<br/> +One ear it heard, at th’other out it went. +</p> + +<p> +But, at the last, he answer’d and said,<br/> +“Friend, This leachcraft, or y-healed thus to be,<br/> +Were well sitting* if that I were a fiend, *recked<br/> +To traisen* her that true is unto me: *betray<br/> +I pray God, let this counsel never the,* *thrive<br/> +But do me rather sterve* anon right here, *die<br/> +Ere I thus do, as thou me wouldest lear!”* *teach +</p> + +<p> +Troilus protests that his lady shall have him wholly hers till +death; and, debating the counsels of his friend, declares that +even if he would, he could not love another. Then he points out +the folly of not lamenting the loss of Cressida because she had +been his in ease and felicity — while Pandarus himself, though +he thought it so light to change to and fro in love, had not done +busily his might to change her that wrought him all the woe of +his unprosperous suit. +</p> + +<p> +“If thou hast had in love ay yet mischance,<br/> +And canst it not out of thine hearte drive,<br/> +I that lived in lust* and in pleasance *delight<br/> +With her, as much as creature alive,<br/> +How should I that forget, and that so blive?* *quickly<br/> +O where hast thou been so long hid in mew,*<74> *cage<br/> +That canst so well and formally argue!” +</p> + +<p> +The lover condemns the whole discourse of his friend as +unworthy, and calls on Death, the ender of all sorrows, to come +to him and quench his heart with his cold stroke. Then he distils +anew in tears, “as liquor out of alembic;” and Pandarus is silent +for a while, till he bethinks him to recommend to Troilus the +carrying off of Cressida. “Art thou in Troy, and hast no +hardiment [daring, boldness] to take a woman which that loveth +thee?” But Troilus reminds his counsellor that all the war had +come from the ravishing of a woman by might (the abduction of +Helen by Paris); and that it would not beseem him to withstand +his father’s grant, since the lady was to be changed for the +town’s good. He has dismissed the thought of asking Cressida +from his father, because that would be to injure her fair fame, to +no purpose, for Priam could not overthrow the decision of “so +high a place as parliament;” while most of all he fears to perturb +her heart with violence, to the slander of her name — for he +must hold her honour dearer than himself in every case, as +lovers ought of right: +</p> + +<p> +“Thus am I in desire and reason twight:* *twisted<br/> +Desire, for to disturbe her, me redeth;* *counseleth<br/> +And Reason will not, so my hearte dreadeth.”* *is in doubt +</p> + +<p> +Thus weeping, that he coulde never cease<br/> +He said, “Alas! how shall I, wretche, fare?<br/> +For well feel I alway my love increase,<br/> +And hope is less and less alway, Pandare!<br/> +Increasen eke the causes of my care;<br/> +So well-away! *why n’ ill my hearte brest?* *why will not<br/> +For us in love there is but little rest.” my heart break?* +</p> + +<p> +Pandare answered, “Friend, thou may’st for me<br/> +Do as thee list;* but had I it so hot, *please<br/> +And thine estate,* she shoulde go with me! *rank<br/> +Though all this town cried on this thing by note,<br/> +I would not set* all that noise a groat; *value<br/> +For when men have well cried, then will they rown,* *whisper<br/> +Eke wonder lasts but nine nights ne’er in town. +</p> + +<p> +“Divine not in reason ay so deep,<br/> +Nor courteously, but help thyself anon;<br/> +Bet* is that others than thyselfe weep; *better<br/> +And namely, since ye two be all one,<br/> +Rise up, for, by my head, she shall not go’n!<br/> +And rather be in blame a little found,<br/> +Than sterve* here as a gnat withoute wound! *die +</p> + +<p> +“It is no shame unto you, nor no vice,<br/> +Her to withholde, that ye loveth most;<br/> +Parauntre* she might holde thee for nice,** *peradventure **foolish<br/> +To let her go thus unto the Greeks’ host;<br/> +Think eke, Fortune, as well thyselfe wost,<br/> +Helpeth the hardy man to his emprise,<br/> +And weiveth* wretches for their cowardice. *forsaketh +</p> + +<p> +“And though thy lady would a lite* her grieve, *little<br/> +Thou shalt thyself thy peace thereafter make;<br/> +But, as to me, certain I cannot ’lieve<br/> +That she would it as now for evil take:<br/> +Why shoulde then for fear thine hearte quake?<br/> +Think eke how Paris hath, that is thy brother,<br/> +A love; and why shalt thou not have another? +</p> + +<p> +“And, Troilus, one thing I dare thee swear,<br/> +That if Cressida, which that is thy lief,* *love<br/> +Now loveth thee as well as thou dost her,<br/> +God help me so, she will not take agrief* *amiss<br/> +Though thou *anon do boot in* this mischief; *provide a remedy<br/> +And if she willeth from thee for to pass, immediately*<br/> +Then is she false, so love her well the lass.* *less +</p> + +<p> +“Forthy,* take heart, and think, right as a knight, *therefore<br/> +Through love is broken all day ev’ry law;<br/> +Kithe* now somewhat thy courage and thy might; *show<br/> +Have mercy on thyself, *for any awe;* *in spite of any fear*<br/> +Let not this wretched woe thine hearte gnaw;<br/> +But, manly, set the world on six and seven, <75><br/> +And, if thou die a martyr, go to heaven.” +</p> + +<p> +Pandarus promises his friend all aid in the enterprise; it is agreed +that Cressida shall be carried off, but only with her own +consent; and Pandarus sets out for his niece’s house, to arrange +an interview. Meantime Cressida has heard the news; and, +caring nothing for her father, but everything for Troilus, she +burns in love and fear, unable to tell what she shall do. +</p> + +<p> +But, as men see in town, and all about,<br/> +That women use* friendes to visite, *are accustomed<br/> +So to Cresside of women came a rout,* *troop<br/> +For piteous joy, and *weened her delight,* *thought to please her*<br/> +And with their tales, *dear enough a mite,* *not worth a mite*<br/> +These women, which that in the city dwell,<br/> +They set them down, and said as I shall tell. +</p> + +<p> +Quoth first that one, “I am glad, truely,<br/> +Because of you, that shall your father see;”<br/> +Another said, “Y-wis, so am not I,<br/> +For all too little hath she with us be.”* *been<br/> +Quoth then the third, “I hope, y-wis, that she<br/> +Shall bringen us the peace on ev’ry side;<br/> +Then, when she goes, Almighty God her guide!” +</p> + +<p> +Those wordes, and those womanishe thinges,<br/> +She heard them right as though she thennes* were, *thence; in some<br/> +For, God it wot, her heart on other thing is; other place<br/> +Although the body sat among them there,<br/> +Her advertence* is always elleswhere; *attention<br/> +For Troilus full fast her soule sought;<br/> +Withoute word, on him alway she thought. +</p> + +<p> +These women that thus weened her to please,<br/> +Aboute naught gan all their tales spend;<br/> +Such vanity ne can do her no ease,<br/> +As she that all this meane while brenn’d<br/> +Of other passion than that they wend;* *weened, supposed<br/> +So that she felt almost her hearte die<br/> +For woe, and weary* of that company. *weariness +</p> + +<p> +For whiche she no longer might restrain<br/> +Her teares, they began so up to well,<br/> +That gave signes of her bitter pain,<br/> +In which her spirit was, and muste dwell,<br/> +Rememb’ring her from heav’n into which hell<br/> +She fallen was, since she forwent* the sight *lost<br/> +Of Troilus; and sorrowfully she sight.* *sighed +</p> + +<p> +And thilke fooles, sitting her about,<br/> +Weened that she had wept and siked* sore, *sighed<br/> +Because that she should out of that rout* *company<br/> +Depart, and never playe with them more;<br/> +And they that hadde knowen her of yore<br/> +Saw her so weep, and thought it kindeness,<br/> +And each of them wept eke for her distress. +</p> + +<p> +And busily they gonnen* her comfort *began<br/> +Of thing, God wot, on which she little thought;<br/> +And with their tales weened her disport,<br/> +And to be glad they her besought;<br/> +But such an ease therewith they in her wrought,<br/> +Right as a man is eased for to feel,<br/> +For ache of head, to claw him on his heel. +</p> + +<p> +But, after all this nice* vanity, *silly<br/> +They took their leave, and home they wenten all;<br/> +Cressida, full of sorrowful pity,<br/> +Into her chamber up went out of the hall,<br/> +And on her bed she gan for dead to fall,<br/> +In purpose never thennes for to rise;<br/> +And thus she wrought, as I shall you devise.* *narrate +</p> + +<p> +She rent her sunny hair, wrung her hands, wept, and bewailed +her fate; vowing that, since, “for the cruelty,” she could handle +neither sword nor dart, she would abstain from meat and drink +until she died. As she lamented, Pandarus entered, making her +complain a thousand times more at the thought of all the joy +which he had given her with her lover; but he somewhat +soothed her by the prospect of Troilus’s visit, and by the +counsel to contain her grief when he should come. Then +Pandarus went in search of Troilus, whom he found solitary in a +temple, as one that had ceased to care for life: +</p> + +<p> +For right thus was his argument alway:<br/> +He said he was but lorne,* well-away! *lost, ruined<br/> +“For all that comes, comes by necessity;<br/> +Thus, to be lorn,* it is my destiny. *lost, ruined +</p> + +<p> +“For certainly this wot I well,” he said,<br/> +“That foresight of the divine purveyance* *providence<br/> +Hath seen alway me to forgo* Cresseide, *lose<br/> +Since God sees ev’ry thing, *out of doubtance,* *without doubt*<br/> +And them disposeth, through his ordinance,<br/> +In their merites soothly for to be,<br/> +As they should come by predestiny. +</p> + +<p> +“But natheless, alas! whom shall I ’lieve?<br/> +For there be greate clerkes* many one *scholars<br/> +That destiny through argumentes preve, *prove<br/> +And some say that needly* there is none, *necessarily<br/> +But that free choice is giv’n us ev’ry one;<br/> +O well-away! so sly are clerkes old,<br/> +That I n’ot* whose opinion I may hold. <76> *know not +</p> + +<p> +“For some men say, if God sees all beforn,<br/> +Godde may not deceived be, pardie!<br/> +Then must it fallen,* though men had it sworn, *befall, happen<br/> +That purveyance hath seen before to be;<br/> +Wherefore I say, that from etern* if he *eternity<br/> +Hath wist* before our thought eke as our deed, *known<br/> +We have no free choice, as these clerkes read.* *maintain +</p> + +<p> +“For other thought, nor other deed also,<br/> +Might never be, but such as purveyance,<br/> +Which may not be deceived never mo’,<br/> +Hath feeled* before, without ignorance; *perceived<br/> +For if there mighte be a variance,<br/> +To writhen out from Godde’s purveying,<br/> +There were no prescience of thing coming, +</p> + +<p> +“But it were rather an opinion<br/> +Uncertain, and no steadfast foreseeing;<br/> +And, certes, that were an abusion,* *illusion<br/> +That God should have no perfect clear weeting,* *knowledge<br/> +More than we men, that have *doubtous weening;* *dubious opinion*<br/> +But such an error *upon God to guess,* *to impute to God*<br/> +Were false, and foul, and wicked cursedness.* *impiety +</p> + +<p> +“Eke this is an opinion of some<br/> +That have their top full high and smooth y-shore, <77><br/> +They say right thus, that thing is not to come,<br/> +For* that the prescience hath seen before *because<br/> +That it shall come; but they say, that therefore<br/> +That it shall come, therefore the purveyance<br/> +Wot it before, withouten ignorance. +</p> + +<p> +“And, in this manner, this necessity<br/> +*Returneth in his part contrary again;* *reacts in the opposite<br/> +For needfully behoves it not to be, direction*<br/> +That thilke thinges *fallen in certain,* *certainly happen*<br/> +That be purvey’d; but needly, as they sayn,<br/> +Behoveth it that thinges, which that fall,<br/> +That they in certain be purveyed all. +</p> + +<p> +“I mean as though I labour’d me in this<br/> +To inquire which thing cause of which thing be;<br/> +As, whether that the prescience of God is<br/> +The certain cause of the necessity<br/> +Of thinges that to come be, pardie!<br/> +Or if necessity of thing coming<br/> +Be cause certain of the purveying. +</p> + +<p> +“But now *enforce I me not* in shewing *I do not lay stress*<br/> +How th’order of causes stands; but well wot I,<br/> +That it behoveth, that the befalling<br/> +Of thinges wiste* before certainly, *known<br/> +Be necessary, *all seem it not* thereby, *though it does not appear*<br/> +That prescience put falling necessair<br/> +To thing to come, all fall it foul or fair. +</p> + +<p> +“For, if there sit a man yond on a see,* *seat<br/> +Then by necessity behoveth it<br/> +That certes thine opinion sooth be,<br/> +That weenest, or conjectest,* that he sit; *conjecturest<br/> +And, furtherover, now againward yet,<br/> +Lo! right so is it on the part contrary;<br/> +As thus, — now hearken, for I will not tarry; — +</p> + +<p> +“I say that if th’opinion of thee<br/> +Be sooth, for that he sits, then say I this,<br/> +That he must sitte by necessity;<br/> +And thus necessity in either is,<br/> +For in him need of sitting is, y-wis,<br/> +And, in thee, need of sooth; and thus forsooth<br/> +There must necessity be in you both. +</p> + +<p> +“But thou may’st say he sits not therefore<br/> +That thine opinion of his sitting sooth<br/> +But rather, for the man sat there before,<br/> +Therefore is thine opinion sooth, y-wis;<br/> +And I say, though the cause of sooth of this<br/> +Comes of his sitting, yet necessity<br/> +Is interchanged both in him and thee. +</p> + +<p> +“Thus in the same wise, out of doubtance,<br/> +I may well maken, as it seemeth me,<br/> +My reasoning of Godde’s purveyance,<br/> +And of the thinges that to come be;<br/> +By whiche reason men may well y-see<br/> +That thilke* thinges that in earthe fall,** *those **happen<br/> +That by necessity they comen all. +</p> + +<p> +“For although that a thing should come, y-wis,<br/> +Therefore it is purveyed certainly,<br/> +Not that it comes for it purveyed is;<br/> +Yet, natheless, behoveth needfully<br/> +That thing to come be purvey’d truely;<br/> +Or elles thinges that purveyed be,<br/> +That they betide* by necessity. *happen +</p> + +<p> +“And this sufficeth right enough, certain,<br/> +For to destroy our free choice ev’ry deal;<br/> +But now is this abusion,* to sayn *illusion, self-deception<br/> +That falling of the thinges temporel<br/> +Is cause of Godde’s prescience eternel;<br/> +Now truely that is a false sentence,* *opinion, judgment<br/> +That thing to come should cause his prescience. +</p> + +<p> +“What might I ween, an’* I had such a thought, *if<br/> +But that God purveys thing that is to come,<br/> +For that it is to come, and elles nought?<br/> +So might I ween that thinges, all and some,<br/> +That *whilom be befall and overcome,* *have happened<br/> +Be cause of thilke sov’reign purveyance, in times past*<br/> +That foreknows all, withouten ignorance. +</p> + +<p> +“And over all this, yet say I more thereto, —<br/> +That right as when I wot there is a thing,<br/> +Y-wis, that thing must needfully be so;<br/> +Eke right so, when I wot a thing coming,<br/> +So must it come; and thus the befalling<br/> +Of thinges that be wist before the tide,* *time<br/> +They may not be eschew’d* on any side.” *avoided +</p> + +<p> +While Troilus was in all this heaviness, disputing with himself in +this matter, Pandarus joined him, and told him the result of the +interview with Cressida; and at night the lovers met, with what +sighs and tears may be imagined. Cressida swooned away, so +that Troilus took her for dead; and, having tenderly laid out her +limbs, as one preparing a corpse for the bier, he drew his sword +to slay himself upon her body. But, as God would, just at that +moment she awoke out of her swoon; and by and by the pair +began to talk of their prospects. Cressida declared the opinion, +supporting it at great length and with many reasons, that there +was no cause for half so much woe on either part. Her +surrender, decreed by the parliament, could not be resisted; it +was quite easy for them soon to meet again; she would bring +things about that she should be back in Troy within a week or +two; she would take advantage of the constant coming and +going while the truce lasted; and the issue would be, that the +Trojans would have both her and Antenor; while, to facilitate +her return, she had devised a stratagem by which, working on +her father’s avarice, she might tempt him to desert from the +Greek camp back to the city. “And truly,” says the poet, having +fully reported her plausible speech, +</p> + +<p> +And truely, as written well I find,<br/> +That all this thing was said *of good intent,* *sincerely*<br/> +And that her hearte true was and kind<br/> +Towardes him, and spake right as she meant,<br/> +And that she starf* for woe nigh when she went, *died<br/> +And was in purpose ever to be true;<br/> +Thus write they that of her workes knew. +</p> + +<p> +This Troilus, with heart and ears y-sprad,* *all open<br/> +Heard all this thing devised to and fro,<br/> +And verily it seemed that he had<br/> +*The selfe wit;* but yet to let her go *the same opinion*<br/> +His hearte misforgave* him evermo’; *misgave<br/> +But, finally, he gan his hearte wrest* *compel<br/> +To truste her, and took it for the best. +</p> + +<p> +For which the great fury of his penance* *suffering<br/> +Was quench’d with hope, and therewith them between<br/> +Began for joy the amorouse dance;<br/> +And as the birdes, when the sun is sheen, *bright<br/> +Delighten in their song, in leaves green,<br/> +Right so the wordes that they spake y-fere* *together<br/> +Delighten them, and make their heartes cheer.* *glad +</p> + +<p> +Yet Troilus was not so well at ease, that he did not earnestly +entreat Cressida to observe her promise; for, if she came not +into Troy at the set day, he should never have health, honour, or +joy; and he feared that the stratagem by which she would try to +lure her father back would fail, so that she might be compelled +to remain among the Greeks. He would rather have them steal +away together, with sufficient treasure to maintain them all their +lives; and even if they went in their bare shirt, he had kin and +friends elsewhere, who would welcome and honour them. +</p> + +<p> +Cressida, with a sigh, right in this wise<br/> +Answer’d; “Y-wis, my deare hearte true,<br/> +We may well steal away, as ye devise,<br/> +And finde such unthrifty wayes new;<br/> +But afterward full sore *it will us rue;* *we will regret it*<br/> +And help me God so at my moste need<br/> +As causeless ye suffer all this dread! +</p> + +<p> +“For thilke* day that I for cherishing *that same<br/> +Or dread of father, or of other wight,<br/> +Or for estate, delight, or for wedding,<br/> +Be false to you, my Troilus, my knight,<br/> +Saturne’s daughter Juno, through her might,<br/> +As wood* as Athamante <78> do me dwell *mad<br/> +Eternally in Styx the pit of hell! +</p> + +<p> +“And this, on ev’ry god celestial<br/> +I swear it you, and eke on each goddess,<br/> +On ev’ry nymph, and deity infernal,<br/> +On Satyrs and on Faunes more or less,<br/> +That *halfe goddes* be of wilderness; *demigods<br/> +And Atropos my thread of life to-brest,* *break utterly<br/> +If I be false! now trow* me if you lest.** *believe **please +</p> + +<p> +“And thou Simois, <79> that as an arrow clear<br/> +Through Troy ay runnest downward to the sea,<br/> +Bear witness of this word that said is here!<br/> +That thilke day that I untrue be<br/> +To Troilus, mine owen hearte free,<br/> +That thou returne backward to thy well,<br/> +And I with body and soul sink in hell!” +</p> + +<p> +Even yet Troilus was not wholly content, and urged anew his +plan of secret flight; but Cressida turned upon him with the +charge that he mistrusted her causelessly, and demanded of him +that he should be faithful in her absence, else she must die at her +return. Troilus promised faithfulness in far simpler and briefer +words than Cressida had used. +</p> + +<p> +“Grand mercy, good heart mine, y-wis,” quoth she;<br/> +“And blissful Venus let me never sterve,* *die<br/> +Ere I may stand *of pleasance in degree in a position to reward<br/> +To quite him* that so well can deserve; him well with pleasure*<br/> +And while that God my wit will me conserve,<br/> +I shall so do; so true I have you found,<br/> +That ay honour to me-ward shall rebound. +</p> + +<p> +“For truste well that your estate* royal, *rank<br/> +Nor vain delight, nor only worthiness<br/> +Of you in war or tourney martial,<br/> +Nor pomp, array, nobley, nor eke richess,<br/> +Ne made me to rue* on your distress; *take pity<br/> +But moral virtue, grounded upon truth,<br/> +That was the cause I first had on you ruth.* *pity +</p> + +<p> +“Eke gentle heart, and manhood that ye had,<br/> +And that ye had, — as me thought, — in despite<br/> +Every thing that *sounded unto* bad, *tended unto, accorded with*<br/> +As rudeness, and peoplish* appetite, *vulgar<br/> +And that your reason bridled your delight;<br/> +This made, aboven ev’ry creature,<br/> +That I was yours, and shall while I may dure. +</p> + +<p> +“And this may length of yeares not fordo,* *destroy, do away<br/> +Nor remuable* Fortune deface; *unstable<br/> +But Jupiter, that of his might may do<br/> +The sorrowful to be glad, so give us grace,<br/> +Ere nightes ten to meeten in this place,<br/> +So that it may your heart and mine suffice!<br/> +And fare now well, for time is that ye rise.” +</p> + +<p> +The lovers took a heart-rending adieu; and Troilus, suffering +unimaginable anguish, “withoute more, out of the chamber +went.” +</p> + +<h3>THE FIFTH BOOK.</h3> + +<p> +APPROACHE gan the fatal destiny<br/> +That Jovis hath in disposition,<br/> +And to you angry Parcae,* Sisters three, *The Fates<br/> +Committeth to do execution;<br/> +For which Cressida must out of the town,<br/> +And Troilus shall dwelle forth in pine,* *pain<br/> +Till Lachesis his thread no longer twine.* *twist +</p> + +<p> +The golden-tressed Phoebus, high aloft,<br/> +Thries* had alle, with his beames clear, *thrice<br/> +The snowes molt,* and Zephyrus as oft *melted<br/> +Y-brought again the tender leaves green,<br/> +Since that *the son of Hecuba the queen* *Troilus <80>*<br/> +Began to love her first, for whom his sorrow<br/> +Was all, that she depart should on the morrow +</p> + +<p> +In the morning, Diomede was ready to escort Cressida to the +Greek host; and Troilus, seeing him mount his horse, could with +difficulty resist an impulse to slay him — but restrained himself, +lest his lady should be also slain in the tumult. When Cressida +was ready to go, +</p> + +<p> +This Troilus, in guise of courtesy,<br/> +With hawk on hand, and with a huge rout* *retinue, crowd<br/> +Of knightes, rode, and did her company,<br/> +Passing alle the valley far without;<br/> +And farther would have ridden, out of doubt,<br/> +Full fain,* and woe was him to go so soon, *gladly<br/> +But turn he must, and it was eke to do’n. +</p> + +<p> +And right with that was Antenor y-come<br/> +Out of the Greekes’ host, and ev’ry wight<br/> +Was of it glad, and said he was welcome;<br/> +And Troilus, *all n’ere his hearte light,* *although his heart<br/> +He pained him, with all his fulle might, was not light*<br/> +Him to withhold from weeping at the least;<br/> +And Antenor he kiss’d and made feast. +</p> + +<p> +And therewithal he must his leave take,<br/> +And cast his eye upon her piteously,<br/> +And near he rode, his cause* for to make *excuse, occasion<br/> +To take her by the hand all soberly;<br/> +And, Lord! so she gan weepe tenderly!<br/> +And he full soft and slily gan her say,<br/> +“Now hold your day, and *do me not to dey.”* *do not make me die* +</p> + +<p> +With that his courser turned he about,<br/> +With face pale, and unto Diomede<br/> +No word he spake, nor none of all his rout;<br/> +Of which the son of Tydeus <81> tooke heed,<br/> +As he that couthe* more than the creed <82> *knew<br/> +In such a craft, and by the rein her hent;* *took<br/> +And Troilus to Troye homeward went. +</p> + +<p> +This Diomede, that led her by the bridle,<br/> +When that he saw the folk of Troy away,<br/> +Thought, “All my labour shall not be *on idle,* *in vain*<br/> +If that I may, for somewhat shall I say;<br/> +For, at the worst, it may yet short our way;<br/> +I have heard say eke, times twice twelve,<br/> +He is a fool that will forget himselve.” +</p> + +<p> +But natheless, this thought he well enough,<br/> +That “Certainly I am aboute naught,<br/> +If that I speak of love, or *make it tough;* *make any violent<br/> +For, doubteless, if she have in her thought immediate effort*<br/> +Him that I guess, he may not be y-brought<br/> +So soon away; but I shall find a mean,<br/> +That she *not wit as yet shall* what I mean.” *shall not yet know* +</p> + +<p> +So he began a general conversation, assured her of not less +friendship and honour among the Greeks than she had enjoyed +in Troy, and requested of her earnestly to treat him as a brother +and accept his service — for, at last he said, “I am and shall be +ay, while that my life may dure, your own, aboven ev’ry +creature. +</p> + +<p> +“Thus said I never e’er now to woman born;<br/> +For, God mine heart as wisly* gladden so! *surely<br/> +I loved never woman herebeforn,<br/> +As paramours, nor ever shall no mo’;<br/> +And for the love of God be not my foe,<br/> +All* can I not to you, my lady dear, *although<br/> +Complain aright, for I am yet to lear.* *teach +</p> + +<p> +“And wonder not, mine owen lady bright,<br/> +Though that I speak of love to you thus blive;* *soon<br/> +For I have heard ere this of many a wight<br/> +That loved thing he ne’er saw in his live;<br/> +Eke I am not of power for to strive<br/> +Against the god of Love, but him obey<br/> +I will alway, and mercy I you pray.” +</p> + +<p> +Cressida answered his discourses as though she scarcely heard +them; yet she thanked him for his trouble and courtesy, and +accepted his offered friendship — promising to trust him, as well +she might. Then she alighted from her steed, and, with her heart +nigh breaking, was welcomed to the embrace of her father. +Meanwhile Troilus, back in Troy, was lamenting with tears the +loss of his love, despairing of his or her ability to survive the ten +days, and spending the night in wailing, sleepless tossing, and +troublous dreams. In the morning he was visited by Pandarus, +to whom he gave directions for his funeral; desiring that the +powder into which his heart was burned should be kept in a +golden urn, and given to Cressida. Pandarus renewed his old +counsels and consolations, reminded his friend that ten days +were a short time to wait, argued against his faith in evil +dreams, and urged him to take advantage of the truce, and +beguile the time by a visit to King Sarpedon (a Lycian Prince +who had come to aid the Trojans). Sarpedon entertained them +splendidly; but no feasting, no pomp, no music of instruments, +no singing of fair ladies, could make up for the absence of +Cressida to the desolate Troilus, who was for ever poring upon +her old letters, and recalling her loved form. Thus he “drove to +an end” the fourth day, and would have then returned to Troy, +but for the remonstrances of Pandarus, who asked if they had +visited Sarpedon only to fetch fire? At last, at the end of a +week, they returned to Troy; Troilus hoping to find Cressida +again in the city, Pandarus entertaining a scepticism which he +concealed from his friend. The morning after their return, +Troilus was impatient till he had gone to the palace of Cressida; +but when he found her doors all closed, “well nigh for sorrow +adown he gan to fall.” +</p> + +<p> +Therewith, when he was ware, and gan behold<br/> +How shut was ev’ry window of the place,<br/> +As frost him thought his hearte *gan to cold;* *began to grow cold*<br/> +For which, with changed deadly pale face,<br/> +Withoute word, he forth began to pace;<br/> +And, as God would, he gan so faste ride,<br/> +That no wight of his countenance espied. +</p> + +<p> +Then said he thus: “O palace desolate!<br/> +O house of houses, *whilom beste hight!* *formerly called best*<br/> +O palace empty and disconsolate!<br/> +O thou lantern, of which quench’d is the light!<br/> +O palace, whilom day, that now art night!<br/> +Well oughtest thou to fall, and I to die,<br/> +Since she is gone that wont was us to guy!* *guide, rule +</p> + +<p> +“O palace, whilom crown of houses all,<br/> +Illumined with sun of alle bliss!<br/> +O ring, from which the ruby is out fall!<br/> +O cause of woe, that cause hast been of bliss!<br/> +Yet, since I may no bet, fain would I kiss<br/> +Thy colde doores, durst I for this rout;<br/> +And farewell shrine, of which the saint is out!” +</p> + +<p> +. . . . . . . . . . . +</p> + +<p> +From thence forth he rideth up and down,<br/> +And ev’ry thing came him to remembrance,<br/> +As he rode by the places of the town,<br/> +In which he whilom had all his pleasance;<br/> +“Lo! yonder saw I mine own lady dance;<br/> +And in that temple, with her eyen clear,<br/> +Me caughte first my righte lady dear. +</p> + +<p> +“And yonder have I heard full lustily<br/> +My deare hearte laugh; and yonder play:<br/> +Saw I her ones eke full blissfully;<br/> +And yonder ones to me gan she say,<br/> +‘Now, goode sweete! love me well, I pray;’<br/> +And yond so gladly gan she me behold,<br/> +That to the death my heart is to her hold.* *holden, bound +</p> + +<p> +“And at that corner, in the yonder house,<br/> +Heard I mine allerlevest* lady dear, *dearest of all<br/> +So womanly, with voice melodious,<br/> +Singe so well, so goodly and so clear,<br/> +That in my soule yet me thinks I hear<br/> +The blissful sound; and in that yonder place<br/> +My lady first me took unto her grace.” +</p> + +<p> +Then he went to the gates, and gazed along the way by which +he had attended Cressida at her departure; then he fancied that +all the passers-by pitied him; and thus he drove forth a day or +two more, singing a song, of few words, which he had made to +lighten his heart: +</p> + +<p> +“O star, of which I lost have all the light,<br/> +With hearte sore well ought I to bewail,<br/> +That ever dark in torment, night by night,<br/> +Toward my death, with wind I steer and sail;<br/> +For which, the tenthe night, if that I fail* *miss; be left without<br/> +The guiding of thy beames bright an hour,<br/> +My ship and me Charybdis will devour.” +</p> + +<p> +By night he prayed the moon to run fast about her sphere; by +day he reproached the tardy sun — dreading that Phaethon had +come to life again, and was driving the chariot of Apollo out of +its straight course. Meanwhile Cressida, among the Greeks, was +bewailing the refusal of her father to let her return, the certainty +that her lover would think her false, and the hopelessness of any +attempt to steal away by night. Her bright face waxed pale, her +limbs lean, as she stood all day looking toward Troy; thinking +on her love and all her past delights, regretting that she had not +followed the counsel of Troilus to steal away with him, and +finally vowing that she would at all hazards return to the city. +But she was fated, ere two months, to be full far from any such +intention; for Diomede now brought all his skill into play, to +entice Cressida into his net. On the tenth day, Diomede, “as +fresh as branch in May,” came to the tent of Cressida, feigning +business with Calchas. +</p> + +<p> +Cresside, at shorte wordes for to tell,<br/> +Welcomed him, and down by her him set,<br/> +And he was *eath enough to make dwell;* *easily persuaded to stay*<br/> +And after this, withoute longe let,* *delay<br/> +The spices and the wine men forth him fet,* *fetched<br/> +And forth they speak of this and that y-fere,* *together<br/> +As friendes do, of which some shall ye hear. +</p> + +<p> +He gan first fallen of the war in speech<br/> +Between them and the folk of Troye town,<br/> +And of the siege he gan eke her beseech<br/> +To tell him what was her opinioun;<br/> +From that demand he so descended down<br/> +To aske her, if that her strange thought<br/> +The Greekes’ guise,* and workes that they wrought. *fashion +</p> + +<p> +And why her father tarried* so long *delayed<br/> +To wedde her unto some worthy wight.<br/> +Cressida, that was in her paines strong<br/> +For love of Troilus, her owen knight,<br/> +So farforth as she cunning* had or might, *ability<br/> +Answer’d him then; but, as for his intent,* *purpose<br/> +It seemed not she wiste* what he meant. *knew +</p> + +<p> +But natheless this ilke* Diomede *same<br/> +Gan *in himself assure,* and thus he said; *grow confident*<br/> +“If I aright have *taken on you heed,* *observed you*<br/> +Me thinketh thus, O lady mine Cresside,<br/> +That since I first hand on your bridle laid,<br/> +When ye out came of Troye by the morrow,<br/> +Ne might I never see you but in sorrow. +</p> + +<p> +“I cannot say what may the cause be,<br/> +But if for love of some Trojan it were;<br/> +*The which right sore would a-thinke me* *which it would much<br/> +That ye for any wight that dwelleth there pain me to think*<br/> +Should [ever] spill* a quarter of a tear, *shed<br/> +Or piteously yourselfe so beguile;* *deceive<br/> +For dreadeless* it is not worth the while. *undoubtedly +</p> + +<p> +“The folk of Troy, as who saith, all and some<br/> +In prison be, as ye yourselfe see;<br/> +From thence shall not one alive come<br/> +For all the gold betwixte sun and sea;<br/> +Truste this well, and understande me;<br/> +There shall not one to mercy go alive,<br/> +All* were he lord of worldes twice five. *although +</p> + +<p> +. . . . . . . . . . . . +</p> + +<p> +“What will ye more, lovesome lady dear?<br/> +Let Troy and Trojan from your hearte pace;<br/> +Drive out that bitter hope, and make good cheer,<br/> +And call again the beauty of your face,<br/> +That ye with salte teares so deface;<br/> +For Troy is brought into such jeopardy,<br/> +That it to save is now no remedy. +</p> + +<p> +“And thinke well, ye shall in Greekes find<br/> +A love more perfect, ere that it be night,<br/> +Than any Trojan is, and more kind,<br/> +And better you to serve will do his might;<br/> +And, if ye vouchesafe, my lady bright,<br/> +I will be he, to serve you, myselve, —<br/> +Yea, lever* than be a lord of Greekes twelve!” *rather +</p> + +<p> +And with that word he gan to waxe red,<br/> +And in his speech a little while he quoke,* *quaked; trembled<br/> +And cast aside a little with his head,<br/> +And stint a while; and afterward he woke,<br/> +And soberly on her he threw his look,<br/> +And said, “I am, albeit to you no joy,<br/> +As gentle* man as any wight in Troy. *high-born +</p> + +<p> +“But, hearte mine! since that I am your man,* *leigeman, subject<br/> +And [you] be the first of whom I seeke grace, (in love)<br/> +To serve you as heartily as I can,<br/> +And ever shall, while I to live have space,<br/> +So, ere that I depart out of this place,<br/> +Ye will me grante that I may, to-morrow,<br/> +At better leisure, telle you my sorrow.” +</p> + +<p> +Why should I tell his wordes that he said?<br/> +He spake enough for one day at the mest;* *most<br/> +It proveth well he spake so, that Cresseide<br/> +Granted upon the morrow, at his request,<br/> +Farther to speake with him, at the least,<br/> +So that he would not speak of such mattere;<br/> +And thus she said to him, as ye may hear: +</p> + +<p> +As she that had her heart on Troilus<br/> +So faste set, that none might it arace;* *uproot <83><br/> +And strangely* she spake, and saide thus; *distantly, unfriendlily<br/> +“O Diomede! I love that ilke place<br/> +Where I was born; and Jovis, for his grace,<br/> +Deliver it soon of all that doth it care!* *afflict<br/> +God, for thy might, so *leave it* well to fare!” *grant it* +</p> + +<p> +She knows that the Greeks would fain wreak their wrath on +Troy, if they might; but that shall never befall: she knows that +there are Greeks of high condition — though as worthy men +would be found in Troy: and she knows that Diomede could +serve his lady well. +</p> + +<p> +“But, as to speak of love, y-wis,” she said,<br/> +“I had a lord, to whom I wedded was, <84><br/> +He whose mine heart was all, until he died;<br/> +And other love, as help me now Pallas,<br/> +There in my heart nor is, nor ever was;<br/> +And that ye be of noble and high kindred,<br/> +I have well heard it tellen, out of dread.* *doubt +</p> + +<p> +“And that doth* me to have so great a wonder *causeth<br/> +That ye will scornen any woman so;<br/> +Eke, God wot, love and I be far asunder;<br/> +I am disposed bet, so may I go,* *fare or prosper<br/> +Unto my death to plain and make woe;<br/> +What I shall after do I cannot say,<br/> +But truely as yet *me list not play.* *I am not disposed<br/> + *for sport<br/> +“Mine heart is now in tribulatioun;<br/> +And ye in armes busy be by day;<br/> +Hereafter, when ye wonnen have the town,<br/> +Parauntre* then, so as it happen may, *peradventure<br/> +That when I see that I never *ere sey,* *saw before*<br/> +Then will I work that I never ere wrought;<br/> +This word to you enough sufficen ought. +</p> + +<p> +“To-morrow eke will I speak with you fain,* *willingly<br/> +So that ye touche naught of this mattere;<br/> +And when you list, ye may come here again,<br/> +And ere ye go, thus much I say you here:<br/> +As help me Pallas, with her haires clear,<br/> +If that I should of any Greek have ruth,<br/> +It shoulde be yourselfe, by my truth! +</p> + +<p> +“I say not therefore that I will you love;<br/> +*Nor say not nay;* but, in conclusioun, *nor say I that<br/> +I meane well, by God that sits above!” I will not*<br/> +And therewithal she cast her eyen down,<br/> +And gan to sigh, and said; “O Troye town!<br/> +Yet bid* I God, in quiet and in rest *pray<br/> +I may you see, or *do my hearte brest!”* *cause my heart to break* +</p> + +<p> +But in effect, and shortly for to say,<br/> +This Diomede all freshly new again<br/> +Gan pressen on, and fast her mercy pray;<br/> +And after this, the soothe for to sayn,<br/> +Her glove he took, of which he was full fain,<br/> +And finally, when it was waxen eve,<br/> +And all was well, he rose and took his leave. +</p> + +<p> +Cressida retired to rest: +</p> + +<p> +Returning in her soul ay up and down<br/> +The wordes of this sudden Diomede,<85><br/> +His great estate,* the peril of the town, *rank<br/> +And that she was alone, and hadde need<br/> +Of friendes’ help; and thus began to dread<br/> +The causes why, the soothe for to tell,<br/> +That she took fully the purpose for to dwell.* *remain (with the<br/> + Greeks)<br/> +The morrow came, and, ghostly* for to speak, *plainly<br/> +This Diomede is come unto Cresseide;<br/> +And shortly, lest that ye my tale break,<br/> +So well he for himselfe spake and said,<br/> +That all her sighes sore adown he laid;<br/> +And finally, the soothe for to sayn,<br/> +He refte* her the great** of all her pain. *took away **the greater<br/> + part of<br/> +And after this, the story telleth us<br/> +That she him gave the faire baye steed<br/> +The which she ones won of Troilus;<br/> +And eke a brooch (and that was little need)<br/> +That Troilus’ was, she gave this Diomede;<br/> +And eke, the bet from sorrow him to relieve,<br/> +She made him wear a pensel* of her sleeve. *pendant <86> +</p> + +<p> +I find eke in the story elleswhere,<br/> +When through the body hurt was Diomede<br/> +By Troilus, she wept many a tear,<br/> +When that she saw his wide woundes bleed,<br/> +And that she took to keepe* him good heed, *tend, care for<br/> +And, for to heal him of his sorrow’s smart,<br/> +Men say, I n’ot,* that she gave him her heart. *know not +</p> + +<p> +And yet, when pity had thus completed the triumph of +inconstancy, she made bitter moan over her falseness to one of +the noblest and worthiest men that ever was; but it was now too +late to repent, and at all events she resolved that she would be +true to Diomede — all the while weeping for pity of the absent +Troilus, to whom she wished every happiness. The tenth day, +meantime, had barely dawned, when Troilus, accompanied by +Pandarus, took his stand on the walls, to watch for the return of +Cressida. Till noon they stood, thinking that every corner from +afar was she; then Troilus said that doubtless her old father bore +the parting ill, and had detained her till after dinner; so they +went to dine, and returned to their vain observation on the +walls. Troilus invented all kinds of explanations for his +mistress’s delay; now, her father would not let her go till eve; +now, she would ride quietly into the town after nightfall, not to +be observed; now, he must have mistaken the day. For five or +six days he watched, still in vain, and with decreasing hope. +Gradually his strength decayed, until he could walk only with a +staff; answering the wondering inquiries of his friends, by saying +that he had a grievous malady about his heart. One day he +dreamed that in a forest he saw Cressida in the embrace of a +boar; and he had no longer doubt of her falsehood. Pandarus, +however, explained away the dream to mean merely that +Cressida was detained by her father, who might be at the point +of death; and he counselled the disconsolate lover to write a +letter, by which he might perhaps get at the truth. Troilus +complied, entreating from his mistress, at the least, a “letter of +hope;” and the lady answered, that she could not come now, but +would so soon as she might; at the same time “making him great +feast,” and swearing that she loved him best — “of which he +found but bottomless behest [which he found but groundless +promises].” Day by day increased the woe of Troilus; he laid +himself in bed, neither eating, nor drinking, nor sleeping, nor +speaking, almost distracted by the thought of Cressida’s +unkindness. He related his dream to his sister Cassandra, who +told him that the boar betokened Diomede, and that, +wheresoever his lady was, Diornede certainly had her heart, and +she was his: “weep if thou wilt, or leave, for, out of doubt, this +Diomede is in, and thou art out.” Troilus, enraged, refused to +believe Cassandra’s interpretation; as well, he cried, might such +a story be credited of Alcestis, who devoted her life for her +husband; and in his wrath he started from bed, “as though all +whole had him y-made a leach [physician],” resolving to find +out the truth at all hazards. The death of Hector meanwhile +enhanced the sorrow which he endured; but he found time to +write often to Cressida, beseeching her to come again and hold +her truth; till one day his false mistress, out of pity, wrote him +again, in these terms: +</p> + +<p> +“Cupide’s son, ensample of goodlihead,* *beauty, excellence<br/> +O sword of knighthood, source of gentleness!<br/> +How might a wight in torment and in dread,<br/> +And healeless,* you send as yet gladness? *devoid of health<br/> +I hearteless, I sick, I in distress?<br/> +Since ye with me, nor I with you, may deal,<br/> +You neither send I may nor heart nor heal. +</p> + +<p> +“Your letters full, the paper all y-plainted,* *covered with<br/> +Commoved have mine heart’s pitt; complainings<br/> +I have eke seen with teares all depainted<br/> +Your letter, and how ye require me<br/> +To come again; the which yet may not be;<br/> +But why, lest that this letter founden were,<br/> +No mention I make now for fear. +</p> + +<p> +“Grievous to me, God wot, is your unrest,<br/> +Your haste,* and that the goddes’ ordinance *impatience<br/> +It seemeth not ye take as for the best;<br/> +Nor other thing is in your remembrance,<br/> +As thinketh me, but only your pleasance;<br/> +But be not wroth, and that I you beseech,<br/> +For that I tarry is *all for wicked speech.* *to avoid malicious<br/> + gossip*<br/> +“For I have heard well more than I wend* *weened, thought<br/> +Touching us two, how thinges have stood,<br/> +Which I shall with dissimuling amend;<br/> +And, be not wroth, I have eke understood<br/> +How ye ne do but holde me on hand; <87><br/> +But now *no force,* I cannot in you guess *no matter*<br/> +But alle truth and alle gentleness. +</p> + +<p> +“Comen I will, but yet in such disjoint* *jeopardy, critical<br/> +I stande now, that what year or what day position<br/> +That this shall be, that can I not appoint;<br/> +But in effect I pray you, as I may,<br/> +For your good word and for your friendship ay;<br/> +For truely, while that my life may dure,<br/> +As for a friend, ye may *in me assure.* *depend on me* +</p> + +<p> +“Yet pray I you, *on evil ye not take* *do not take it ill*<br/> +That it is short, which that I to you write;<br/> +I dare not, where I am, well letters make;<br/> +Nor never yet ne could I well endite;<br/> +Eke *great effect men write in place lite;* *men write great matter<br/> +Th’ intent is all, and not the letter’s space; in little space*<br/> +And fare now well, God have you in his grace!<br/> + “La Vostre C.” +</p> + +<p> +Though he found this letter “all strange,” and thought it like “a +kalendes of change,” <88> Troilus could not believe his lady so +cruel as to forsake him; but he was put out of all doubt, one day +that, as he stood in suspicion and melancholy, he saw a “coat- +armour” borne along the street, in token of victory, before +Deiphobus his brother. Deiphobus had won it from Diomede in +battle that day; and Troilus, examining it out of curiosity, found +within the collar a brooch which he had given to Cressida on the +morning she left Troy, and which she had pledged her faith to +keep for ever in remembrance of his sorrow and of him. At this +fatal discovery of his lady’s untruth, +</p> + +<p> +Great was the sorrow and plaint of Troilus;<br/> +But forth her course Fortune ay gan to hold;<br/> +Cressida lov’d the son of Tydeus,<br/> +And Troilus must weep in cares cold.<br/> +Such is the world, whoso it can behold!<br/> +In each estate is little hearte’s rest;<br/> +God lend* us each to take it for the best! *grant +</p> + +<p> +In many a cruel battle Troilus wrought havoc among the +Greeks, and often he exchanged blows and bitter words with +Diomede, whom he always specially sought; but it was not their +lot that either should fall by the other’s hand. The poet’s +purpose, however, he tells us, is to relate, not the warlike deeds +of Troilus, which Dares has fully told, but his love-fortunes: +</p> + +<p> +Beseeching ev’ry lady bright of hue,<br/> +And ev’ry gentle woman, *what she be,* *whatsoever she be*<br/> +Albeit that Cressida was untrue,<br/> +That for that guilt ye be not wroth with me;<br/> +Ye may her guilt in other bookes see;<br/> +And gladder I would writen, if you lest,<br/> +Of Penelope’s truth, and good Alceste. +</p> + +<p> +Nor say I not this only all for men,<br/> +But most for women that betrayed be<br/> +Through false folk (God give them sorrow, Amen!)<br/> +That with their greate wit and subtilty<br/> +Betraye you; and this commoveth me<br/> +To speak; and in effect you all I pray,<br/> +Beware of men, and hearken what I say. +</p> + +<p> +Go, little book, go, little tragedy!<br/> +There God my maker, yet ere that I die,<br/> +So send me might to make some comedy!<br/> +But, little book, *no making thou envy,* *be envious of no poetry* <89><br/> +But subject be unto all poesy;<br/> +And kiss the steps, where as thou seest space,<br/> +Of Virgil, Ovid, Homer, Lucan, Stace. +</p> + +<p> +And, for there is so great diversity<br/> +In English, and in writing of our tongue,<br/> +So pray I God, that none miswrite thee,<br/> +Nor thee mismetre for default of tongue!<br/> +And read whereso thou be, or elles sung,<br/> +That thou be understanden, God I ’seech!* *beseech<br/> +But yet to purpose of my *rather speech.* *earlier subject* <90> +</p> + +<p> +The wrath, as I began you for to say,<br/> +Of Troilus the Greekes boughte dear;<br/> +For thousandes his handes *made dey,* *made to die*<br/> +As he that was withouten any peer,<br/> +Save in his time Hector, as I can hear;<br/> +But, well-away! save only Godde’s will,<br/> +Dispiteously him slew the fierce Achill’. +</p> + +<p> +And when that he was slain in this mannere,<br/> +His lighte ghost* full blissfully is went *spirit<br/> +Up to the hollowness of the seventh sphere <91><br/> +In converse leaving ev’ry element;<br/> +And there he saw, with full advisement,* *observation, understanding<br/> +Th’ erratic starres heark’ning harmony,<br/> +With soundes full of heav’nly melody. +</p> + +<p> +And down from thennes fast he gan advise* *consider, look on<br/> +This little spot of earth, that with the sea<br/> +Embraced is; and fully gan despise<br/> +This wretched world, and held all vanity,<br/> +*To respect of the plein felicity* *in comparison with<br/> +That is in heav’n above; and, at the last, the full felicity*<br/> +Where he was slain his looking down he cast. +</p> + +<p> +And in himself he laugh’d right at the woe<br/> +Of them that wepte for his death so fast;<br/> +And damned* all our works, that follow so *condemned<br/> +The blinde lust, the which that may not last,<br/> +And shoulden* all our heart on heaven cast; *while we should<br/> +And forth he wente, shortly for to tell,<br/> +Where as Mercury sorted* him to dwell. *allotted <92> +</p> + +<p> +Such fine* hath, lo! this Troilus for love! *end<br/> +Such fine hath all his *greate worthiness!* *exalted royal rank*<br/> +Such fine hath his estate royal above!<br/> +Such fine his lust,* such fine hath his nobless! *pleasure<br/> +Such fine hath false worlde’s brittleness!* *fickleness, instability<br/> +And thus began his loving of Cresside,<br/> +As I have told; and in this wise he died. +</p> + +<p> +O young and freshe folke, *he or she,* *of either sex*<br/> +In which that love upgroweth with your age,<br/> +Repaire home from worldly vanity,<br/> +And *of your heart upcaste the visage* *“lift up the countenance<br/> +To thilke God, that after his image of your heart.”*<br/> +You made, and think that all is but a fair,<br/> +This world that passeth soon, as flowers fair! +</p> + +<p> +And love Him, the which that, right for love,<br/> +Upon a cross, our soules for to bey,* *buy, redeem<br/> +First starf,* and rose, and sits in heav’n above; *died<br/> +For he will false* no wight, dare I say, *deceive, fail<br/> +That will his heart all wholly on him lay;<br/> +And since he best to love is, and most meek,<br/> +What needeth feigned loves for to seek? +</p> + +<p> +Lo! here of paynims* cursed olde rites! *pagans<br/> +Lo! here what all their goddes may avail!<br/> +Lo! here this wretched worlde’s appetites! *end and reward<br/> +Lo! here the *fine and guerdon for travail,* of labour*<br/> +Of Jove, Apollo, Mars, and such rascaille* *rabble <93><br/> +Lo! here the form of olde clerkes’ speech,<br/> +In poetry, if ye their bookes seech!* *seek, search +</p> + +<p> +L’Envoy of Chaucer. +</p> + +<p> +O moral Gower! <94> this book I direct.<br/> +To thee, and to the philosophical Strode, <95><br/> +To vouchesafe, where need is, to correct,<br/> +Of your benignities and zeales good.<br/> +And to that soothfast Christ that *starf on rood* *died on the cross*<br/> +With all my heart, of mercy ever I pray,<br/> +And to the Lord right thus I speak and say: +</p> + +<p> +“Thou One, and Two, and Three, *etern on live,* *eternally living*<br/> +That reignest ay in Three, and Two, and One,<br/> +Uncircumscrib’d, and all may’st circumscrive,* *comprehend<br/> +From visible and invisible fone* *foes<br/> +Defend us in thy mercy ev’ry one;<br/> +So make us, Jesus, *for thy mercy dign,* *worthy of thy mercy*<br/> +For love of Maid and Mother thine benign!” +</p> + +<p> +Explicit Liber Troili et Cresseidis. <96> +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to Troilus and Cressida +</p> + +<p> +1. The double sorrow: First his suffering before his love was +successful; and then his grief after his lady had been separated +from him, and had proved unfaithful. +</p> + +<p> +2. Tisiphone: one of the Eumenides, or Furies, who avenged on +men in the next world the crimes committed on earth. Chaucer +makes this grim invocation most fitly, since the Trojans were +under the curse of the Eumenides, for their part in the offence +of Paris in carrying off Helen, the wife of his host Menelaus, +and thus impiously sinning against the laws of hospitality. +</p> + +<p> +3. See Chaucer’s description of himself in “The House Of +Fame,” and note 11 to that poem. +</p> + +<p> +4. The Palladium, or image of Pallas (daughter of Triton and +foster-sister of Athena), was said to have fallen from heaven at +Troy, where Ilus was just beginning to found the city; and Ilus +erected a sanctuary, in which it was preserved with great +honour and care, since on its safety was supposed to depend the +safety of the city. In later times a Palladium was any statue of +the goddess Athena kept for the safeguard of the city that +possessed it. +</p> + +<p> +5. “Oh, very god!”: oh true divinity! — addressing Cressida. +</p> + +<p> +6. Ascaunce: as if to say — as much as to say. The word +represents “Quasi dicesse” in Boccaccio. See note 5 to the +Sompnour’s Tale. +</p> + +<p> +7. Eft: another reading is “oft.” +</p> + +<p> +8. Arten: constrain — Latin, “arceo.” +</p> + +<p> +9. The song is a translation of Petrarch’s 88th Sonnet, which +opens thus: +“S’amor non e, che dunque e quel ch’i’sento.” +</p> + +<p> +10. If maugre me: If (I burn) in spite of myself. The usual +reading is, “If harm agree me” = if my hurt contents me: but +evidently the antithesis is lost which Petrarch intended when, +after “s’a mia voglia ardo,” he wrote “s’a mal mio grado” = if +against my will; and Urry’s Glossary points out the probability +that in transcription the words “If that maugre me” may have +gradually changed into “If harm agre me.” +</p> + +<p> +11. The Third of May seems either to have possessed peculiar +favour or significance with Chaucer personally, or to have had a +special importance in connection with those May observances +of which the poet so often speaks. It is on the third night of +May that Palamon, in The Knight’s Tale, breaks out of prison, +and at early morn encounters in the forest Arcita, who has gone +forth to pluck a garland in honour of May; it is on the third +night of May that the poet hears the debate of “The Cuckoo and +the Nightingale”; and again in the present passage the favoured +date recurs. +</p> + +<p> +12. Went: turning; from Anglo-Saxon, “wendan;” German, +“wenden.” The turning and tossing of uneasy lovers in bed is, +with Chaucer, a favourite symptom of their passion. See the +fifth “statute,” in The Court of Love. +</p> + +<p> +13. Procne, daughter of Pandion, king of Attica, was given to +wife to Tereus in reward for his aid against an enemy; but +Tereus dishonoured Philomela, Procne’s sister; and his wife, in +revenge, served up to him the body of his own child by her. +Tereus, infuriated, pursued the two sisters, who prayed the +gods to change them into birds. The prayer was granted; +Philomela became a nightingale, Procne a swallow, and Tereus +a hawk. +</p> + +<p> +14. Fished fair: a proverbial phrase which probably may be best +represented by the phrase “done great execution.” +</p> + +<p> +15. The fair gem virtueless: possessing none of the virtues +which in the Middle Ages were universally believed to be +inherent in precious stones. +</p> + +<p> +16. The crop and root: the most perfect example. See note 29 +to the Knight’s Tale. +</p> + +<p> +17. Eme: uncle; the mother’s brother; still used in Lancashire. +Anglo-Saxon, “eame;” German, “Oheim.” +</p> + +<p> +18. Dardanus: the mythical ancestor of the Trojans, after whom +the gate is supposed to be called. +</p> + +<p> +19. All the other gates were secured with chains, for better +defence against the besiegers. +</p> + +<p> +20. Happy day: good fortune; French, “bonheur;” both “happy +day” and “happy hour” are borrowed from the astrological +fiction about the influence of the time of birth. +</p> + +<p> +21. Horn, and nerve, and rind: The various layers or materials +of the shield — called boagrion in the Iliad — which was made +from the hide of the wild bull. +</p> + +<p> +22. His brother: Hector. +</p> + +<p> +23. Who gives me drink?: Who has given me a love-potion, to +charm my heart thus away? +</p> + +<p> +24. That plaited she full oft in many a fold: She deliberated +carefully, with many arguments this way and that. +</p> + +<p> +25. Through which I mighte stand in worse plight: in a worse +position in the city; since she might through his anger lose the +protection of his brother Hector. +</p> + +<p> +26. I am not religious: I am not in holy vows. See the complaint +of the nuns in “The Court of Love.” +</p> + +<p> +27. The line recalls Milton’s “dark with excessive bright.” +</p> + +<p> +28. No weal is worth, that may no sorrow drien: the meaning is, +that whosoever cannot endure sorrow deserves not happiness. +</p> + +<p> +29. French, “verre;” glass. +</p> + +<p> +30. From cast of stones ware him in the werre: let him beware +of casting stones in battle. The proverb in its modern form +warns those who live in glass houses of the folly of throwing +stones. +</p> + +<p> +31. Westren: to west or wester — to decline towards the west; +so Milton speaks of the morning star as sloping towards +heaven’s descent “his westering wheel.” +</p> + +<p> +32. A pike with ass’s feet etc.: this is merely another version of +the well-known example of incongruity that opens the “Ars +Poetica” of Horace. +</p> + +<p> +33. Tristre: tryst; a preconcerted spot to which the beaters +drove the game, and at which the sportsmen waited with their +bows. +</p> + +<p> +34. A kankerdort: a condition or fit of perplexed anxiety; +probably connected with the word “kink” meaning in sea phrase +a twist in an rope — and, as a verb, to twist or entangle. +</p> + +<p> +35. They feel in times, with vapour etern: they feel in their +seasons, by the emission of an eternal breath or inspiration (that +God loves, &c.) +</p> + +<p> +36. The idea of this stanza is the same with that developed in +the speech of Theseus at the close of The Knight’s Tale; and it is +probably derived from the lines of Boethius, quoted in note 91 +to that Tale. +</p> + +<p> +37. In this and the following lines reappears the noble doctrine +of the exalting and purifying influence of true love, advanced in +“The Court of Love,” “The Cuckoo and the Nightingale,” &c. +</p> + +<p> +38. Weir: a trap or enclosed place in a stream, for catching fish. +See note 10 to The Assembly of Fowls. +</p> + +<p> +39. Nor might one word for shame to it say: nor could he +answer one word for shame (at the stratagem that brought +Cressida to implore his protection) +</p> + +<p> +40. “All n’ere he malapert, nor made avow +Nor was so bold to sing a foole’s mass;” +i.e. although he was not over-forward and made no confession +(of his love), or was so bold as to be rash and ill-advised in his +declarations of love and worship. +</p> + +<p> +41. Pandarus wept as if he would turn to water; so, in The +Squire’s Tale, did Canace weep for the woes of the falcon. +</p> + +<p> +42. If I breake your defence: if I transgress in whatever you may +forbid; French, “defendre,” to prohibit. +</p> + +<p> +43. These lines and the succeeding stanza are addressed to +Pandarus, who had interposed some words of incitement to +Cressida. +</p> + +<p> +44. In “The Court of Love,” the poet says of Avaunter, that +“his ancestry of kin was to Lier; and the stanza in which that +line occurs expresses precisely the same idea as in the text. +Vain boasters of ladies’ favours are also satirised in “The House +of Fame”. +</p> + +<p> +45. Nice: silly, stupid; French, “niais.” +</p> + +<p> +46.”Reheating” is read by preference for “richesse,” which +stands in the older printed editions; though “richesse” certainly +better represents the word used in the original of Boccaccio — +“dovizia,” meaning abundance or wealth. +</p> + +<p> +47. “Depart it so, for widewhere is wist +How that there is diversity requer’d +Betwixte thinges like, as I have lear’d:” +i.e. make this distinction, for it is universally known that there is +a great difference between things that seem the same, as I have +learned. +</p> + +<p> +48. Frepe: the set, or company; French, “frappe,” a stamp (on +coins), a set (of moulds). +</p> + +<p> +49. To be “in the wind” of noisy magpies, or other birds that +might spoil sport by alarming the game, was not less desirable +than to be on the “lee-side” of the game itself, that the hunter’s +presence might not be betrayed by the scent. “In the wind of,” +thus signifies not to windward of, but to leeward of — that is, in +the wind that comes from the object of pursuit. +</p> + +<p> +50. Bothe fremd and tame: both foes and friends — literally, +both wild and tame, the sporting metaphor being sustained. +</p> + +<p> +51. The lovers are supposed to say, that nothing is wanting but +to know the time at which they should meet. +</p> + +<p> +52. A tale of Wade: see note 5 to the Merchant’s Tale. +</p> + +<p> +53. Saturn, and Jove, in Cancer joined were: a conjunction that +imported rain. +</p> + +<p> +54. Smoky rain: An admirably graphic description of dense rain. +</p> + +<p> +55. For the force of “cold,” see note 22 to the Nun’s Priest’s +Tale. +</p> + +<p> +56. Goddes seven: The divinities who gave their names to the +seven planets, which, in association with the seven metals, are +mentioned in The Canon’s Yeoman’s Tale. +</p> + +<p> +57. Assayed: experienced, tasted. See note 6 to the Squire’s +Tale. +</p> + +<p> +58. Now is it better than both two were lorn: better this happy +issue, than that both two should be lost (through the sorrow of +fruitless love). +</p> + +<p> +59. Made him such feast: French, “lui fit fete” — made holiday +for him. +</p> + +<p> +60. The cock is called, in “The Assembly of Fowls,” “the +horologe of thorpes lite;” [the clock of little villages] and in The +Nun’s Priest’s Tale Chanticleer knew by nature each ascension +of the equinoctial, and, when the sun had ascended fifteen +degrees, “then crew he, that it might not be amended.” Here he +is termed the “common astrologer,” as employing for the public +advantage his knowledge of astronomy. +</p> + +<p> +61. Fortuna Major: the planet Jupiter. +</p> + +<p> +62. When Jupiter visited Alcmena in the form of her husband +Amphitryon, he is said to have prolonged the night to the length +of three natural nights. Hercules was the fruit of the union. +</p> + +<p> +63. Chaucer seems to confound Titan, the title of the sun, with +Tithonus (or Tithon, as contracted in poetry), whose couch +Aurora was wont to share. +</p> + +<p> +64. So, in “Locksley Hall,” Tennyson says that “a sorrow’s +crown of sorrow is rememb’ring better things.” The original is in +Dante’s words:- - +“Nessun maggior dolore +Che ricordarsi del tempo felice +Nella miseria.” — “Inferno,” v. 121. +(“There is no greater sorrow than to remember happy times +when in misery”) +</p> + +<p> +65. As great a craft is to keep weal as win: it needs as much +skill to keep prosperity as to attain it. +</p> + +<p> +66. To heap: together. See the reference to Boethius in note 91 +to the Knight’s Tale. +</p> + +<p> +67. The smalle beastes let he go beside: a charming touch, +indicative of the noble and generous inspiration of his love. +</p> + +<p> +68. Mew: the cage or chamber in which hawks were kept and +carefully tended during the moulting season. +</p> + +<p> +69. Love of steel: love as true as steel. +</p> + +<p> +70. Pandarus, as it repeatedly appears, was an unsucsessful +lover. +</p> + +<p> +71. “Each for his virtue holden is full dear, +Both heroner, and falcon for rivere”:— +That is, each is esteemed for a special virtue or faculty, as the +large gerfalcon for the chase of heron, the smaller goshawk for +the chase of river fowl. +</p> + +<p> +72. Zausis: An author of whom no record survives. +</p> + +<p> +73. And upon new case lieth new advice: new counsels must be +adopted as new circumstances arise. +</p> + +<p> +74. Hid in mew: hidden in a place remote from the world — of +which Pandarus thus betrays ignorance. +</p> + +<p> +75. The modern phrase “sixes and sevens,” means “in +confusion:” but here the idea of gaming perhaps suits the sense +better — “set the world upon a cast of the dice.” +</p> + +<p> +76. The controversy between those who maintained the doctrine +of predestination and those who held that of free-will raged +with no less animation at Chaucer’s day, and before it, than it +has done in the subsequent five centuries; the Dominicans +upholding the sterner creed, the Franciscans taking the other +side. Chaucer has more briefly, and with the same care not to +commit himself, referred to the discussion in The Nun’s Priest’s +Tale. +</p> + +<p> +77. That have their top full high and smooth y-shore: that are +eminent among the clergy, who wear the tonsure. +</p> + +<p> +78. Athamante: Athamas, son of Aeolus; who, seized with +madness, under the wrath of Juno for his neglect of his wife +Nephele, slew his son Learchus. +</p> + +<p> +79. Simois: one of the rivers of the Troad, flowing into the +Xanthus. +</p> + +<p> +80. Troilus was the son of Priam and Hecuba. +</p> + +<p> +81. The son of Tydeus: Diomedes; far oftener called Tydides, +after his father Tydeus, king of Argos. +</p> + +<p> +82. Couthe more than the creed: knew more than the mere +elements (of the science of Love). +</p> + +<p> +83. Arache: wrench away, unroot (French, “arracher”); the +opposite of “enrace,” to root in, implant. +</p> + +<p> +84. It will be remembered that, at the beginning of the first +book, Cressida is introduced to us as a widow. +</p> + +<p> +85. Diomede is called “sudden,” for the unexpectedness of his +assault on Cressida’s heart — or, perhaps, for the abrupt +abandonment of his indifference to love. +</p> + +<p> +86. Penscel: a pennon or pendant; French, “penoncel.” It was +the custom in chivalric times for a knight to wear, on days of +tournament or in battle, some such token of his lady’s favour, or +badge of his service to her. +</p> + +<p> +87. She has been told that Troilus is deceiving her. +</p> + +<p> +88. The Roman kalends were the first day of the month, when a +change of weather was usually expected. +</p> + +<p> +89. Maker, and making, words used in the Middle Ages to +signify the composer and the composition of poetry, correspond +exactly with the Greek “poietes” and “poiema,” from “poieo,” I +make. +</p> + +<p> +90. My rather speech: my earlier, former subject; “rather” is the +cormparative of the old adjective “rath,” early. +</p> + +<p> +91. Up to the hollowness of the seventh sphere: passing up +through the hollowness or concavity of the spheres, which all +revolve round each other and are all contained by God (see note +5 to the Assembly of Fowls), the soul of Troilus, looking +downward, beholds the converse or convex side of the spheres +which it has traversed. +</p> + +<p> +92. Sorted: allotted; from Latin, “sors,” lot, fortune. +</p> + +<p> +93. Rascaille: rabble; French, “racaille” — a mob or multitude, +the riff-raff; so Spencer speaks of the “rascal routs” of inferior +combatants. +</p> + +<p> +94. John Gower, the poet, a contemporary and friend of +Chaucer’s; author, among other works, of the “Confessio +Amantis.” See note 1 to the Man of Law’s Tale. +</p> + +<p> +95. Strode was an eminent scholar of Merton College, Oxford, +and tutor to Chaucer’s son Lewis. +</p> + +<p> +96. Explicit Liber Troili et Cresseidis: “The end of the book of +Troilus and Cressida.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap36"></a>CHAUCER’S DREAM.</h2> + +<p> +[This pretty allegory, or rather conceit, containing one or two +passages that for vividness and for delicacy yield to nothing in +the whole range of Chaucer’s poetry, had never been printed +before the year 1597, when it was included in the edition of +Speght. Before that date, indeed, a Dream of Chaucer had been +printed; but the poem so described was in reality “The Book of +the Duchess; or the Death of Blanche, Duchess of Lancaster” — +which is not included in the present edition. Speght says that +“This Dream, devised by Chaucer, seemeth to be a covert report +of the marriage of John of Gaunt, the King’s son, with Blanche, +the daughter of Henry, Duke of Lancaster; who after long love +(during the time whereof the poet feigneth them to be dead) +were in the end, by consent of friends, happily married; figured +by a bird bringing in his bill an herb, which restored them to life +again. Here also is showed Chaucer’s match with a certain +gentlewoman, who, although she was a stranger, was, +notwithstanding, so well liked and loved of the Lady Blanche +and her Lord, as Chaucer himself also was, that gladly they +concluded a marriage between them.” John of Gaunt, at the age +of nineteen, and while yet Earl of Richmond, was married to the +Lady Blanche at Reading in May 1359; Chaucer, then a prisoner +in France, probably did not return to England till peace was +concluded in the following year; so that his marriage to Philippa +Roet, the sister of the Duchess Blanche’s favourite attendant +Katharine Roet, could not have taken place till some time after +that of the Duke. In the poem, it is represented to have +immediately followed; but no consequence need be attached to +that statement. Enough that it followed at no great interval of +time; and that the intimate relations which Chaucer had already +begun to form with John of Gaunt, might well warrant him in +writing this poem on the occasion of the Duke’s marriage, and +in weaving his own love-fortunes with those of the principal +figures. In the necessary abridgement of the poem for the +present edition, the subsidiary branch of the allegory, relating to +the poet’s own love affair, has been so far as possible separated +from the main branch, which shadows forth the fortunes of John +and Blanche. The poem, in full, contains, with an “Envoy” +arbitrarily appended, 2233 lines; of which 510 are given here.] +(Transcriber’s note: modern scholars believe that Chaucer was +not the author of this poem) +</p> + +<p> +WHEN Flora, the queen of pleasance,<br/> +Had wholly *achiev’d the obeisance* *won the obedience*<br/> +Of the fresh and the new season,<br/> +Thorough ev’ry region;<br/> +And with her mantle *whole covert* *wholly covered*<br/> +What winter had *made discovert,* — *stripped* +</p> + +<p> +On a May night, the poet lay alone, thinking of his lady, and all +her beauty; and, falling asleep, he dreamed that he was in an +island +</p> + +<p> +Where wall, and gate, was all of glass,<br/> +And so was closed round about,<br/> +That leaveless* none came in nor out; *without permission<br/> +Uncouth and strange to behold;<br/> +For ev’ry gate, of fine gold,<br/> +A thousand fanes,* ay turning, *vanes, weathercocks<br/> +Entuned* had, and birds singing *contrived so as to emit<br/> +Diversely, on each fane a pair, a musical sound<br/> +With open mouth, against the air; <1><br/> +And *of a suit* were all the tow’rs, *of the same plan*<br/> +Subtilly *carven aft* flow’rs *carved to represent*<br/> +Of uncouth colours, *during ay,* *lasting forever*<br/> +That never be none seen in May,<br/> +With many a small turret high;<br/> +But man alive I could not sigh,* *see<br/> +Nor creatures, save ladies play,* *disporting themselves<br/> +Which were such of their array,<br/> +That, as me thought, *of goodlihead* *for comeliness*<br/> +They passed all, and womanhead.<br/> +For to behold them dance and sing,<br/> +It seemed like none earthly thing; +</p> + +<p> +And all were of the same age, save one; who was advanced in +years, though no less gay in demeanour than the rest. While he +stood admiring the richness and beauty of the place, and the +fairness of the ladies, which had the notable gift of enduring +unimpaired till death, the poet was accosted by the old lady, to +whom he had to yield himself prisoner; because the ordinance of +the isle was, that no man should dwell there; and the ladies’ fear +of breaking the law was enhanced by the temporary absence of +their queen from the realm. Just at this moment the cry was +raised that the queen came; all the ladies hastened to meet her; +and soon the poet saw her approach — but in her company his +mistress, wearing the same garb, and a seemly knight. All the +ladies wondered greatly at this; and the queen explained: +</p> + +<p> +“My sisters, how it hath befall,* *befallen<br/> +I trow ye know it one and all,<br/> +That of long time here have I been<br/> +Within this isle biding as queen,<br/> +Living at ease, that never wight<br/> +More perfect joye have not might;<br/> +And to you been of governance<br/> +Such as you found in whole pleasance, <2><br/> +In every thing as ye know,<br/> +After our custom and our law;<br/> +Which how they firste founded were,<br/> +I trow ye wot all the mannere.<br/> +And who the queen is of this isle, —<br/> +As I have been this longe while, —<br/> +Each seven years must, of usage,<br/> +Visit the heav’nly hermitage,<br/> +Which on a rock so highe stands,<br/> +In a strange sea, out from all lands,<br/> +That for to make the pilgrimage<br/> +Is call’d a perilous voyage;<br/> +For if the wind be not good friend,<br/> +The journey dureth to the end<br/> +Of him which that it undertakes;<br/> +Of twenty thousand not one scapes.<br/> +Upon which rock groweth a tree,<br/> +That certain years bears apples three;<br/> +Which three apples whoso may have,<br/> +Is *from all displeasance y-save* *safe from all pain*<br/> +That in the seven years may fall;<br/> +This wot you well, both one and all.<br/> +For the first apple and the hext,* *highest <3><br/> +Which groweth unto you the next,<br/> +Hath three virtues notable,<br/> +And keepeth youth ay durable,<br/> +Beauty, and looks, ever-in-one,* *continually<br/> +And is the best of ev’ry one.<br/> +The second apple, red and green,<br/> +Only with lookes of your eyne,<br/> +You nourishes in great pleasance,<br/> +Better than partridge or fesaunce,* *pheasant<br/> +And feedeth ev’ry living wight<br/> +Pleasantly, only with the sight.<br/> +And the third apple of the three,<br/> +Which groweth lowest on the tree,<br/> +Whoso it beareth may not fail* *miss, fail to obtain<br/> +That* to his pleasance may avail. *that which<br/> +So your pleasure and beauty rich,<br/> +Your during youth ever y-lich,* *alike<br/> +Your truth, your cunning,* and your weal, *knowledge<br/> +Hath flower’d ay, and your good heal,<br/> +Without sickness or displeasance,<br/> +Or thing that to you was noyance.* *offence, injury<br/> +So that you have as goddesses<br/> +Lived above all princesses.<br/> +Now is befall’n, as ye may see;<br/> +To gather these said apples three,<br/> +I have not fail’d, against the day,<br/> +Thitherward to take the way,<br/> +*Weening to speed* as I had oft. *expecting to succeed*<br/> +But when I came, I found aloft<br/> +My sister, which that hero stands,<br/> +Having those apples in her hands,<br/> +Advising* them, and nothing said, *regarding, gazing on<br/> +But look’d as she were *well apaid:* *satisfied*<br/> +And as I stood her to behold,<br/> +Thinking how my joys were cold,<br/> +Since I these apples *have not might,* *might not have*<br/> +Even with that so came this knight,<br/> +And in his arms, of me unware,<br/> +Me took, and to his ship me bare,<br/> +And said, though him I ne’er had seen,<br/> +Yet had I long his lady been;<br/> +Wherefore I shoulde with him wend,<br/> +And he would, to his life’s end,<br/> +My servant be; and gan to sing,<br/> +As one that had won a rich thing.<br/> +Then were my spirits from me gone,<br/> +So suddenly every one,<br/> +That in me appear’d but death,<br/> +For I felt neither life nor breath,<br/> +Nor good nor harme none I knew,<br/> +The sudden pain me was so new,<br/> +That *had not the hasty grace be* *had it not been for the<br/> +Of this lady, that from the tree prompt kindness*<br/> +Of her gentleness so bled,* *hastened<br/> +Me to comforten, I had died;<br/> +And of her three apples she one<br/> +Into mine hand there put anon,<br/> +Which brought again my mind and breath,<br/> +And me recover’d from the death.<br/> +Wherefore to her so am I hold,* *beholden, obliged<br/> +That for her all things do I wo’ld,<br/> +For she was leach* of all my smart, *physician<br/> +And from great pain so quit* my heart. *delivered<br/> +And as God wot, right as ye hear,<br/> +Me to comfort with friendly cheer,<br/> +She did her prowess and her might.<br/> +And truly eke so did this knight,<br/> +In that he could; and often said,<br/> +That of my woe he was *ill paid,* *distressed, ill-pleased*<br/> +And curs’d the ship that him there brought,<br/> +The mast, the master that it wrought.<br/> +And, as each thing must have an end,<br/> +My sister here, our bother friend, <4><br/> +Gan with her words so womanly<br/> +This knight entreat, and cunningly,<br/> +For mine honour and hers also,<br/> +And said that with her we should go<br/> +Both in her ship, where she was brought,<br/> +Which was so wonderfully wrought,<br/> +So clean, so rich, and so array’d,<br/> +That we were both content and paid;* *satisfied<br/> +And me to comfort and to please,<br/> +And my heart for to put at ease,<br/> +She took great pain in little while,<br/> +And thus hath brought us to this isle<br/> +As ye may see; wherefore each one<br/> +I pray you thank her one and one,<br/> +As heartily as ye can devise,<br/> +Or imagine in any wise.” +</p> + +<p> +At once there then men mighte see’n,<br/> +A world of ladies fall on kneen<br/> +Before my lady, — +</p> + +<p> +Thanking her, and placing themselves at her commandment. +Then the queen sent the aged lady to the knight, to learn of him +why he had done her all this woe; and when the messenger had +discharged her mission, telling the knight that in the general +opinion he had done amiss, he fell down suddenly as if dead for +sorrow and repentance. Only with great difficulty, by the queen +herself, was he restored to consciousness and comfort; but +though she spoke kind and hope-inspiring words, her heart was +not in her speech, +</p> + +<p> +For her intent was, to his barge<br/> +Him for to bring against the eve,<br/> +With certain ladies, and take leave,<br/> +And pray him, of his gentleness,<br/> +To *suffer her* thenceforth in peace, *let her dwell*<br/> +As other princes had before;<br/> +And from thenceforth, for evermore,<br/> +She would him worship in all wise<br/> +That gentlenesse might devise;<br/> +And *pain her* wholly to fulfil, *make her utmost efforts*<br/> +In honour, his pleasure and will. +</p> + +<p> +And during thus this knighte’s woe, —<br/> +Present* the queen and other mo’, *(there being) present*<br/> +My lady and many another wight, —<br/> +Ten thousand shippes at a sight<br/> +I saw come o’er the wavy flood,<br/> +With sail and oar; that, as I stood<br/> +Them to behold, I gan marvail<br/> +From whom might come so many a sail;<br/> +For, since the time that I was born,<br/> +Such a navy therebeforn<br/> +Had I not seen, nor so array’d,<br/> +That for the sight my hearte play’d<br/> +Ay to and fro within my breast;<br/> +For joy long was ere it would rest.<br/> +For there were sailes *full of flow’rs;* *embroidered with flowers*<br/> +After, castles with huge tow’rs, <5><br/> +Seeming full of armes bright,<br/> +That wond’rous lusty* was the sight; *pleasant<br/> +With large tops, and mastes long,<br/> +Richly depaint’ and *rear’d among.* *raised among them*<br/> +At certain times gan repair<br/> +Smalle birdes down from the air,<br/> +And on the shippes’ bounds* about *bulwarks<br/> +Sat and sang, with voice full out,<br/> +Ballads and lays right joyously,<br/> +As they could in their harmony. +</p> + +<p> +The ladies were alarmed and sorrow-stricken at sight of the +ships, thinking that the knight’s companions were on board; and +they went towards the walls of the isle, to shut the gates. But it +was Cupid who came; and he had already landed, and marched +straight to the place where the knight lay. Then he chid the +queen for her unkindness to his servant; shot an arrow into her +heart; and passed through the crowd, until he found the poet’s +lady, whom he saluted and complimented, urging her to have +pity on him that loved her. While the poet, standing apart, was +revolving all this in his mind, and resolving truly to serve his +lady, he saw the queen advance to Cupid, with a petition in +which she besought forgiveness of past offences, and promised +continual and zealous service till her death. Cupid smiled, and +said that he would be king within that island, his new conquest; +then, after long conference with the queen, he called a council +for the morrow, of all who chose to wear his colours. In the +morning, such was the press of ladies, that scarcely could +standing-room be found in all the plain. Cupid presided; and one +of his counsellors addressed the mighty crowd, promising that +ere his departure his lord should bring to an agreement all the +parties there present. Then Cupid gave to the knight and the +dreamer each his lady; promised his favour to all the others in +that place who would truly and busily serve in love; and at +evening took his departure. Next morning, having declined the +proffered sovereignty of the island, the poet’s mistress also +embarked, leaving him behind; but he dashed through the +waves, was drawn on board her ship from peril of death, and +graciously received into his lady’s lasting favour. Here the poet +awakes, finding his cheeks and body all wet with tears; and, +removing into another chamber, to rest more in peace, he falls +asleep anew, and continues the dream. Again he is within the +island, where the knight and all the ladies are assembled on a +green, and it is resolved by the assembly, not only that the +knight shall be their king, but that every lady there shall be +wedded also. It is determined that the knight shall depart that +very day, and return, within ten days, with such a host of +Benedicts, that none in the isle need lack husbands. The knight +</p> + +<p> +Anon into a little barge<br/> +Brought was, late against an eve,<br/> +Where of all he took his leave.<br/> +Which barge was, as a man thought,<br/> +Aft* his pleasure to him brought; *according to*<br/> +The queen herself accustom’d ay<br/> +In the same barge to play.* *take her sport<br/> +It needed neither mast nor rother* *rudder<br/> +(I have not heard of such another),<br/> +Nor master for the governance;* *steering<br/> +It sailed by thought and pleasance,<br/> +Withoute labour, east and west;<br/> +All was one, calm or tempest. <6><br/> +And I went with, at his request,<br/> +And was the first pray’d to the feast.* *the bridal feast<br/> +When he came unto his country,<br/> +And passed had the wavy sea,<br/> +In a haven deep and large<br/> +He left his rich and noble barge,<br/> +And to the court, shortly to tell,<br/> +He went, where he was wont to dwell, — +</p> + +<p> +And was gladly received as king by the estates of the land; for +during his absence his father, “old, and wise, and hoar,” had +died, commending to their fidelity his absent son. The prince +related to the estates his journey, and his success in finding the +princess in quest of whom he had gone seven years before; and +said that he must have sixty thousand guests at his marriage +feast. The lords gladly guaranteed the number within the set +time; but afterwards they found that fifteen days must be spent +in the necessary preparations. Between shame and sorrow, the +prince, thus compelled to break his faith, took to his bed, and, +in wailing and self-reproach, +</p> + +<p> +— Endur’d the days fifteen,<br/> +Till that the lords, on an evene,* *evening<br/> +Him came and told they ready were,<br/> +And showed in few wordes there,<br/> +How and what wise they had *purvey’d *provided suitably<br/> +For his estate,* and to him said, to his rank*<br/> +That twenty thousand knights of name,<br/> +And forty thousand without blame,<br/> +Alle come of noble ligne* *line, lineage<br/> +Together in a company<br/> +Were lodged on a river’s side,<br/> +Him and his pleasure there t’abide.<br/> +The prince then for joy uprose,<br/> +And, where they lodged were, he goes,<br/> +Withoute more, that same night,<br/> +And there his supper *made to dight;* *had prepared*<br/> +And with them bode* till it was day. *abode, waited*<br/> +And forthwith to take his journey,<br/> +Leaving the strait, holding the large,<br/> +Till he came to his noble barge:<br/> +And when the prince, this lusty knight,<br/> +With his people in armes bright,<br/> +Was come where he thought to pass,* *cross to the isle<br/> +And knew well none abiding was<br/> +Behind, but all were there present,<br/> +Forthwith anon all his intent<br/> +He told them there, and made his cries* *proclamation<br/> +Thorough his hoste that day twice,<br/> +Commanding ev’ry living wight<br/> +There being present in his sight,<br/> +To be the morrow on the rivage,* *shore<br/> +There he begin would his voyage. +</p> + +<p> +The morrow come, the *cry was kept* *proclamation was obeyed*<br/> +But few were there that night that slept,<br/> +But *truss’d and purvey’d* for the morrow; *packed up and provided*<br/> +For fault* of ships was all their sorrow; *lack, shortage<br/> +For, save the barge, and other two,<br/> +Of shippes there I saw no mo’.<br/> +Thus in their doubtes as they stood,<br/> +Waxing the sea, coming the flood,<br/> +Was cried “To ship go ev’ry wight!”<br/> +Then was but *hie that hie him might,* *whoever could hasten, did*<br/> +And to the barge, me thought, each one<br/> +They went, without was left not one,<br/> +Horse, nor male*, truss, nor baggage, *trunk, wallet<br/> +Salad*, spear, gardebrace,** nor page, *helmet<7> **arm-shield<8><br/> +But was lodged and room enough;<br/> +At which shipping me thought I lough,* *laughed<br/> +And gan to marvel in my thought,<br/> +How ever such a ship was wrought.* *constructed<br/> +For *what people that can increase,* *however the numbers increased*<br/> +Nor ne’er so thick might be the prease,* *press, crowd<br/> +But alle hadde room at will;<br/> +There was not one was lodged ill.<br/> +For, as I trow, myself the last<br/> +Was one, and lodged by the mast;<br/> +And where I look’d I saw such room<br/> +As all were lodged in a town.<br/> +Forth went the ship, said was the creed;<9><br/> +And on their knees, *for their good speed,* *to pray for success*<br/> +Down kneeled ev’ry wight a while,<br/> +And prayed fast that to the isle<br/> +They mighte come in safety,<br/> +The prince and all the company.<br/> +With worship and withoute blame,<br/> +Or disclander* of his name, *reproach, slander<br/> +Of the promise he should return<br/> +Within the time he did sojourn<br/> +In his lande biding* his host; *waiting for<br/> +This was their prayer least and most:<br/> +To keep the day it might not be’n,<br/> +That he appointed with the queen. +</p> + +<p> +Wherefore the prince slept neither day nor night, till he and his +people landed on the glass-walled isle, “weening to be in heav’n +that night.” But ere they had gone a little way, they met a lady +all in black, with piteous countenance, who reproached the +prince for his untruth, and informed him that, unable to bear the +reproach to their name, caused by the lightness of their trust in +strangers, the queen and all the ladies of the isle had vowed +neither to eat, nor drink, nor sleep, nor speak, nor cease +weeping till all were dead. The queen had died the first; and half +of the other ladies had already “under the earth ta’en lodging +new.” The woeful recorder of all these woes invites the prince +to behold the queen’s hearse: +</p> + +<p> +“Come within, come see her hearse<br/> +Where ye shall see the piteous sight<br/> +That ever yet was shown to knight;<br/> +For ye shall see ladies stand,<br/> +Each with a greate rod in hand,<br/> +Clad in black, with visage white,<br/> +Ready each other for to smite,<br/> +If any be that will not weep;<br/> +Or who makes countenance to sleep.<br/> +They be so beat, that all so blue<br/> +They be as cloth that dy’d is new.” +</p> + +<p> +Scarcely has the lady ceased to speak, when the prince plucks +forth a dagger, plunges it into his heart, and, drawing but one +breath, expires. +</p> + +<p> +For whiche cause the lusty host,<br/> +Which [stood] in battle on the coast,<br/> +At once for sorrow such a cry<br/> +Gan rear, thorough* the company, *throughout<br/> +That to the heav’n heard was the soun’,<br/> +And under th’earth as far adown,<br/> +And wilde beastes for the fear<br/> +So suddenly affrayed* were, *afraid<br/> +That for the doubt, while they might dure,* *have a chance of safety<br/> +They ran as of their lives unsure,<br/> +From the woodes into the plain,<br/> +And from valleys the high mountain<br/> +They sought, and ran as beastes blind,<br/> +That clean forgotten had their kind.* *nature +</p> + +<p> +The lords of the laggard host ask the woebegone lady what +should be done; she answers that nothing can now avail, but +that for remembrance they should build in their land, open to +public view, “in some notable old city,” a chapel engraved with +some memorial of the queen. And straightway, with a sigh, she +also “pass’d her breath.” +</p> + +<p> +Then said the lordes of the host,<br/> +And so concluded least and most,<br/> +That they would ay in houses of thack* *thatch<br/> +Their lives lead, <10> and wear but black,<br/> +And forsake all their pleasances,<br/> +And turn all joy to penances;<br/> +And bare the dead prince to the barge,<br/> +And named *them should* have the charge; *those who should*<br/> +And to the hearse where lay the queen<br/> +The remnant went, and down on kneen,<br/> +Holding their hands on high, gan cry,<br/> +“Mercy! mercy!” *evereach thry;* *each one thrice*<br/> +And curs’d the time that ever sloth<br/> +Should have such masterdom of troth.<br/> +And to the barge, a longe mile,<br/> +They bare her forth; and, in a while,<br/> +All the ladies, one and one,<br/> +By companies were brought each one.<br/> +And pass’d the sea, and took the land,<br/> +And in new hearses, on a sand,<br/> +Put and brought were all anon,<br/> +Unto a city clos’d with stone,<br/> +Where it had been used ay<br/> +The kinges of the land to lay,<br/> +After they reigned in honours;<br/> +And writ was which were conquerours;<br/> +In an abbey of nunnes black,<br/> +Which accustom’d were to wake,<br/> +And of usage rise each a-night,<br/> +To pray for ev’ry living wight.<br/> +And so befell, as is the guise,<br/> +Ordain’d and said was the service<br/> +Of the prince and eke of the queen,<br/> +So devoutly as mighte be’n;<br/> +And, after that, about the hearses,<br/> +Many orisons and verses,<br/> +Withoute note* <11> full softely *music<br/> +Said were, and that full heartily;<br/> +That all the night, till it was day,<br/> +The people in the church gan pray<br/> +Unto the Holy Trinity,<br/> +Of those soules to have pity. +</p> + +<p> +And when the nighte past and run<br/> +Was, and the newe day begun, —<br/> +The young morrow with rayes red,<br/> +Which from the sun all o’er gan spread,<br/> +Attemper’d* cleare was and fair, *clement, calm<br/> +And made a time of wholesome air, —<br/> +Befell a wondrous case* and strange *chance, event<br/> +Among the people, and gan change<br/> +Soon the word, and ev’ry woe<br/> +Unto a joy, and some to two. +</p> + +<p> +A bird, all feather’d blue and green,<br/> +With brighte rays like gold between,<br/> +As small thread over ev’ry joint,<br/> +All full of colour strange and coint,* *quaint<br/> +Uncouth* and wonderful to sight, *unfamiliar<br/> +Upon the queene’s hearse gan light,<br/> +And sung full low and softely<br/> +Three songes in their harmony,<br/> +*Unletted of* every wight; *unhindered by*<br/> +Till at the last an aged knight,<br/> +Which seem’d a man in greate thought,<br/> +Like as he set all thing at nought,<br/> +With visage and eyes all forwept,* *steeped in tears<br/> +And pale, as a man long unslept,<br/> +By the hearses as he stood,<br/> +With hasty handling of his hood<br/> +Unto a prince that by him past,<br/> +Made the bird somewhat aghast.* *frightened<br/> +Wherefore he rose and left his song,<br/> +And departed from us among,<br/> +And spread his winges for to pass<br/> +By the place where he enter’d was.<br/> +And in his haste, shortly to tell,<br/> +Him hurt, that backward down he fell,<br/> +From a window richly paint,<br/> +With lives of many a divers saint,<br/> +And beat his winges and bled fast,<br/> +And of the hurt thus died and past;<br/> +And lay there well an hour and more<br/> +Till, at the last, of birds a score<br/> +Came and assembled at the place<br/> +Where the window broken was,<br/> +And made such waimentatioun,* *lamentation<br/> +That pity was to hear the soun’,<br/> +And the warbles of their throats,<br/> +And the complaint of their notes,<br/> +Which from joy clean was reversed.<br/> +And of them one the glass soon pierced,<br/> +And in his beak, of colours nine,<br/> +An herb he brought, flow’rless, all green,<br/> +Full of smalle leaves, and plain,* *smooth<br/> +Swart,* and long, with many a vein. *black<br/> +And where his fellow lay thus dead,<br/> +This herb he down laid by his head,<br/> +And dressed* it full softely, *arranged<br/> +And hung his head, and stood thereby.<br/> +Which herb, in less than half an hour,<br/> +Gan over all knit,* and after flow’r *bud<br/> +Full out; and waxed ripe the seed;<br/> +And, right as one another feed<br/> +Would, in his beak he took the grain,<br/> +And in his fellow’s beak certain<br/> +It put, and thus within the third* *i.e. third hour after it<br/> +Upstood and pruned him the bird, had died<br/> +Which dead had been in all our sight;<br/> +And both together forth their flight<br/> +Took, singing, from us, and their leave;<br/> +Was none disturb them would nor grieve.<br/> +And, when they parted were and gone,<br/> +Th’ abbess the seedes soon each one<br/> +Gathered had, and in her hand<br/> +The herb she took, well avisand* *considering <12><br/> +The leaf, the seed, the stalk, the flow’r,<br/> +And said it had a good savour,<br/> +And was no common herb to find,<br/> +And well approv’d of *uncouth kind,* *strange nature*<br/> +And more than other virtuous;<br/> +Whoso might it have for to use<br/> +In his need, flower, leaf, or grain,<br/> +Of his heal might be certain.<br/> +[She] laid it down upon the hearse<br/> +Where lay the queen; and gan rehearse<br/> +Each one to other what they had seen.<br/> +And, *taling thus,* the seed wax’d green, *as they gossiped*<br/> +And on the dry hearse gan to spring, —<br/> +Which me thought was a wondrous thing, —<br/> +And, after that, flow’r and new seed;<br/> +Of which the people all took heed,<br/> +And said it was some great miracle,<br/> +Or medicine fine more than treacle; <12><br/> +And were well done there to assay<br/> +If it might ease, in any way,<br/> +The corpses, which with torchelight<br/> +They waked had there all that night.<br/> +Soon did the lordes there consent,<br/> +And all the people thereto content,<br/> +With easy words and little fare;* *ado, trouble<br/> +And made the queene’s visage bare,<br/> +Which showed was to all about,<br/> +Wherefore in swoon fell all the rout,* *company, crowd<br/> +And were so sorry, most and least,<br/> +That long of weeping they not ceas’d;<br/> +For of their lord the remembrance<br/> +Unto them was such displeasance.* *cause of grief<br/> +That for to live they called pain,<br/> +So were they very true and plain.<br/> +And after this the good abbess<br/> +Of the grains gan choose and dress* *prepare<br/> +Three, with her fingers clean and smale,* *small<br/> +And in the queenes mouth, by tale,<br/> +One after other, full easily<br/> +She put, and eke full cunningly.* *skilfully<br/> +Which showed some such virtue.<br/> +That proved was the medicine true.<br/> +For with a smiling countenance<br/> +The queen uprose, and of usance* *custom<br/> +As she was wont, to ev’ry wight<br/> +She *made good cheer;* for whiche sight *showed a gracious<br/> +The people, kneeling on the stones, countenance*<br/> +Thought they in heav’n were, soul and bones;<br/> +And to the prince, where that he lay,<br/> +They went to make the same assay.* *trial, experiment<br/> +And when the queen it understood,<br/> +And how the medicine was good,<br/> +She pray’d that she might have the grains,<br/> +To relieve him from the pains<br/> +Which she and he had both endur’d.<br/> +And to him went, and so him cur’d,<br/> +That, within a little space,<br/> +Lusty and fresh alive he was,<br/> +And in good heal, and whole of speech,<br/> +And laugh’d, and said, *“Gramercy, leach!”* *“Great thanks,<br/> +For which the joy throughout the town my physician!”*<br/> +So great was, that the belles’ soun’<br/> +Affray’d the people a journey* *to the distance of<br/> +About the city ev’ry way; a day’s journey*<br/> +And came and ask’d the cause, and why<br/> +They rungen were so stately.* *proudly, solemnly<br/> +And after that the queen, th’abbess,<br/> +Made diligence, <14> ere they would cease,<br/> +Such, that of ladies soon a rout* *company, crowd<br/> +Suing* the queen was all about; *following<br/> +And, call’d by name each one and told,* *numbered<br/> +Was none forgotten, young nor old.<br/> +There mighte men see joyes new,<br/> +When the medicine, fine and true,<br/> +Thus restor’d had ev’ry wight,<br/> +So well the queen as the knight,<br/> +Unto perfect joy and heal,<br/> +That *floating they were in such weal* *swimming in such<br/> +As folk that woulden in no wise happiness*<br/> +Desire more perfect paradise. +</p> + +<p> +On the morrow a general assembly was convoked, and it was +resolved that the wedding feast should be celebrated within the +island. Messengers were sent to strange realms, to invite kings, +queens, duchesses, and princesses; and a special embassy was +despatched, in the magic barge, to seek the poet’s mistress — +who was brought back after fourteen days, to the great joy of +the queen. Next day took place the wedding of the prince and +all the knights to the queen and all the ladies; and a three +months’ feast followed, on a large plain “under a wood, in a +champaign, betwixt a river and a well, where never had abbey +nor cell been, nor church, house, nor village, in time of any +manne’s age.” On the day after the general wedding, all +entreated the poet’s lady to consent to crown his love with +marriage; she yielded; the bridal was splendidly celebrated; and +to the sound of marvellous music the poet awoke, to find +neither lady nor creature — but only old portraitures on the +tapestry, of horsemen, hawks, and hounds, and hurt deer full of +wounds. Great was his grief that he had lost all the bliss of his +dream; and he concludes by praying his lady so to accept his +love-service, that the dream may turn to reality. +</p> + +<p> +Or elles, without more I pray,<br/> +That this night, ere it be day,<br/> +I may unto my dream return,<br/> +And sleeping so forth ay sojourn<br/> +Aboute the Isle of Pleasance,<br/> +*Under my lady’s obeisance,* *subject to my lady*<br/> +In her service, and in such wise,<br/> +As it may please her to devise;<br/> +And grace once to be accept’,<br/> +Like as I dreamed when I slept,<br/> +And dure a thousand year and ten<br/> +In her good will: Amen, amen! +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to Chaucer’s Dream +</p> + +<p> +1. The birds on the weathervanes were set up facing the wind, +so that it entered their open mouths, and by some mechanism +produced the musical sound. +</p> + +<p> +2. “And to you been of governance +Such as you found in whole pleasance” +That is, “and have governed you in a manner which you have +found wholly pleasant.” +</p> + +<p> +3. Hext: highest; from “high,” as “next” from “nigh.” Compare +the sounds of the German, “hoechst,” highest, and “naechst,” +next. +</p> + +<p> +4. “Your brother friend,” is the common reading; but the phrase +has no apparent applicability; and perhaps the better reading is +“our bother friend” — that is, the lady who has proved herself a +friend both to me and to you. In the same way, Reason, in +Troilus’ soliloquy on the impending loss of his mistress, is made, +addressing Troilus and Cressida, to speaks of “your bother,” or +“bothe,” love. +</p> + +<p> +5. The ships had high embattled poops and forecastles, as in +mediaeval ships of war. +</p> + +<p> +6. Compare Spenser’s account of Phaedria’s barque, in “The<br/> +Faerie Queen,” canto vi. book ii.; and, mutatis mutandis,<br/> +Chaucer’s description of the wondrous horse, in The Squire’s<br/> +Tale. +</p> + +<p> +7. Salad: a small helmet; french, “salade.” +</p> + +<p> +8. Gardebrace: French, “garde-bras,” an arm-shield; probably +resembling the “gay bracer” which the Yeoman, in the Prologue +to The Canterbury Tales, wears on his arm. +</p> + +<p> +9. Confession and prayer were the usual preliminaries of any +enterprise in those superstitious days; and in these days of +enlightenment the fashion yet lingers among the most +superstitious class — the fisher-folk. +</p> + +<p> +10. The knights resolved that they would quit their castles and +houses of stone for humble huts. +</p> + +<p> +11. The knight and lady were buried without music, although +the office for the dead was generally sung. +</p> + +<p> +12. Avisand: considering; present participle from “avise” or +“advise.” +</p> + +<p> +13. Treacle; corrupted from Latin, “therisca,” an antidote. The +word is used for medicine in general. +</p> + +<p> +14. The abbess made diligence: i.e. to administer the grain to +the dead ladies. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap37"></a>THE PROLOGUE TO THE LEGEND OF GOOD WOMEN.</h2> + +<p> +[SOME difference of opinion exists as to the date at +which Chaucer wrote “The Legend of Good +Women.” Those who would fix that date at a +period not long before the poet’s death — who +would place the poem, indeed, among his closing +labours — support their opinion by the fact that the +Prologue recites most of Chaucer’s principal +works, and glances, besides, at a long array of +other productions, too many to be fully catalogued. +But, on the other hand, it is objected that the +“Legend” makes no mention of “The Canterbury +Tales” as such; while two of those Tales — the +Knight’s and the Second Nun’s — are enumerated +by the titles which they bore as separate +compositions, before they were incorporated in the +great collection: “The Love of Palamon and +Arcite,” and “The Life of Saint Cecile” (see note 1 +to the Second Nun’s tale). Tyrwhitt seems perfectly +justified in placing the composition of the poem +immediately before that of Chaucer’s magnum +opus, and after the marriage of Richard II to his +first queen, Anne of Bohemia. That event took +place in 1382; and since it is to Anne that the poet +refers when he makes Alcestis bid him give his +poem to the queen “at Eltham or at Sheen,” the +“Legend” could not have been written earlier. The +old editions tell us that “several ladies in the Court +took offence at Chaucer’s large speeches against +the untruth of women; therefore the queen enjoin’d +him to compile this book in the commendation of +sundry maidens and wives, who show’d themselves +faithful to faithless men. This seems to have been +written after The Flower and the Leaf.” Evidently it +was, for distinct references to that poem are to be +found in the Prologue; but more interesting is the +indication which it furnishes, that “Troilus and +Cressida” was the work, not of the poet’s youth, +but of his maturer age. We could hardly expect the +queen — whether of Love or of England — to +demand seriously from Chaucer a retractation of +sentiments which he had expressed a full +generation before, and for which he had made +atonement by the splendid praises of true love sung +in “The Court of Love,” “The Cuckoo and the +Nightingale,” and other poems of youth and middle +life. But “Troilus and Cressida” is coupled with +“The Romance of the Rose,” as one of the poems +which had given offence to the servants and the +God of Love; therefore we may suppose it to have +more prominently engaged courtly notice at a later +period of the poet’s life, than even its undoubted +popularity could explain. At whatever date, or in +whatever circumstances, undertaken, “The Legend +of Good Women” is a fragment. There are several +signs that it was designed to contain the stories of +twenty-five ladies, although the number of the +good women is in the poem itself set down at +nineteen; but nine legends only were actually +composed, or have come down to us. They are, +those of Cleopatra Queen of Egypt (126 lines), +Thisbe of Babylon (218), Dido Queen of Carthage +(442), Hypsipyle and Medea (312), Lucrece of +Rome (206), Ariadne of Athens (340), Phiomela +(167), Phyllis (168), and Hypermnestra (162). +Prefixed to these stories, which are translated or +imitated from Ovid, is a Prologue containing 579 +lines — the only part of the “Legend” given in the +present edition. It is by far the most original, the +strongest, and most pleasing part of the poem; the +description of spring, and of his enjoyment of that +season, are in Chaucer’s best manner; and the +political philosophy by which Alcestis mitigates the +wrath of Cupid, adds another to the abounding +proofs that, for his knowledge of the world, +Chaucer fairly merits the epithet of “many-sided” +which Shakespeare has won by his knowledge of +man.] +</p> + +<p> +A THOUSAND times I have hearde tell,<br/> +That there is joy in heav’n, and pain in hell;<br/> +And I accord* it well that it is so; *grant, agree<br/> +But, natheless, yet wot* I well also, *know<br/> +That there is none dwelling in this country<br/> +That either hath in heav’n or hell y-be;* *been<br/> +Nor may of it no other wayes witten* *know<br/> +But as he hath heard said, or found it written;<br/> +For by assay* there may no man it preve.** *practical trial<br/> + **prove, test<br/> +But God forbid but that men should believe<br/> +Well more thing than men have seen with eye!<br/> +Men shall not weenen ev’ry thing a lie<br/> +*But if* himself it seeth, or else do’th; *unless<br/> +For, God wot, thing is never the less sooth,* *true<br/> +Though ev’ry wighte may it not y-see.<br/> +Bernard, the Monke, saw not all, pardie! <1><br/> +Then muste we to bookes that we find<br/> +(Through which that olde thinges be in mind),<br/> +And to the doctrine of these olde wise,<br/> +Give credence, in ev’ry skilful* wise, *reasonable<br/> +That tellen of these old approved stories,<br/> +Of holiness, of regnes,* of victories, *reigns, kingdoms<br/> +Of love, of hate, and other sundry things<br/> +Of which I may not make rehearsings;<br/> +And if that olde bookes were away,<br/> +Y-lorn were of all remembrance the key.<br/> +Well ought we, then, to honour and believe<br/> +These bookes, where we have none other preve.* *proof +</p> + +<p> +And as for me, though that I know but lite,* *little<br/> +On bookes for to read I me delight,<br/> +And to them give I faith and good credence,<br/> +And in my heart have them in reverence,<br/> +So heartily, that there is *game none* <2> *no amusement*<br/> +That from my bookes maketh me to go’n,<br/> +But it be seldom on the holyday;<br/> +Save, certainly, when that the month of May<br/> +Is comen, and I hear the fowles sing,<br/> +And that the flowers ginnen for to spring,<br/> +Farewell my book and my devotion! +</p> + +<p> +Now have I then such a condition,<br/> +That, above all the flowers in the mead,<br/> +Then love I most these flowers white and red,<br/> +Such that men calle Day’s-eyes in our town;<br/> +To them have I so great affectioun,<br/> +As I said erst, when comen is the May,<br/> +That in my bed there dawneth me no day<br/> +That I n’am* up, and walking in the mead, *am not<br/> +To see this flow’r against the sunne spread,<br/> +When it upriseth early by the morrow;<br/> +That blissful sight softeneth all my sorrow,<br/> +So glad am I, when that I have presence<br/> +Of it, to do it alle reverence,<br/> +As she that is of alle flowers flow’r,<br/> +Fulfilled of all virtue and honour,<br/> +And ever alike fair, and fresh of hue;<br/> +As well in winter, as in summer new,<br/> +This love I ever, and shall until I die;<br/> +All* swear I not, of this I will not lie, *although<br/> +There loved no wight hotter in his life.<br/> +And when that it is eve, I runne blife,* *quickly, eagerly<br/> +As soon as ever the sun begins to west,* *decline westward<br/> +To see this flow’r, how it will go to rest,<br/> +For fear of night, so hateth she darkness!<br/> +Her cheer* is plainly spread in the brightness *countenance<br/> +Of the sunne, for there it will unclose.<br/> +Alas! that I had English, rhyme or prose,<br/> +Sufficient this flow’r to praise aright!<br/> +But help me, ye that have *cunning or might;* *skill or power*<br/> +Ye lovers, that can make of sentiment,<br/> +In this case ought ye to be diligent<br/> +To further me somewhat in my labour,<br/> +Whether ye be with the Leaf or the Flow’r; <3><br/> +For well I wot, that ye have herebefore<br/> +Of making ropen,* and led away the corn; <4> *reaped<br/> +And I come after, gleaning here and there,<br/> +And am full glad if I may find an ear<br/> +Of any goodly word that you have left.<br/> +And though it hap me to rehearsen eft* *again<br/> +What ye have in your freshe songes said,<br/> +Forbeare me, and be not *evil apaid,* *displeased*<br/> +Since that ye see I do it in th’honour<br/> +Of love, and eke in service of the flow’r<br/> +Whom that I serve as I have wit or might. <5><br/> +She is the clearness, and the very* light, *true<br/> +That in this darke world me winds* and leads; *turns, guides<br/> +The heart within my sorrowful breast you dreads,<br/> +And loves so sore, that ye be, verily,<br/> +The mistress of my wit, and nothing I.<br/> +My word, my works, are knit so in your bond,<br/> +That, as a harp obeyeth to the hand,<br/> +That makes it sound after his fingering,<br/> +Right so may ye out of my hearte bring<br/> +Such voice, right as you list, to laugh or plain;* *complain, mourn<br/> +Be ye my guide, and lady sovereign.<br/> +As to mine earthly god, to you I call,<br/> +Both in this work, and in my sorrows all. +</p> + +<p> +But wherefore that I spake to give credence<br/> +To old stories, and do them reverence,<br/> +And that men muste more things believe<br/> +Than they may see at eye, or elles preve,* *prove<br/> +That shall I say, when that I see my time;<br/> +I may not all at ones speak in rhyme.<br/> +My busy ghost,* that thirsteth always new *spirit<br/> +To see this flow’r so young, so fresh of hue,<br/> +Constrained me with so greedy desire,<br/> +That in my heart I feele yet the fire,<br/> +That made me to rise ere it were day, —<br/> +And this was now the first morrow of May, —<br/> +With dreadful heart, and glad devotion,<br/> +For to be at the resurrection<br/> +Of this flower, when that it should unclose<br/> +Against the sun, that rose as red as rose,<br/> +That in the breast was of the beast* that day *the sign of the Bull<br/> +That Agenore’s daughter led away. <6><br/> +And down on knees anon right I me set,<br/> +And as I could this freshe flow’r I gret,* *greeted<br/> +Kneeling alway, till it unclosed was,<br/> +Upon the smalle, softe, sweete grass,<br/> +That was with flowers sweet embroider’d all,<br/> +Of such sweetness and such odour *o’er all,* *everywhere*<br/> +That, for to speak of gum, or herb, or tree,<br/> +Comparison may none y-maked be;<br/> +For it surmounteth plainly all odours,<br/> +And for rich beauty the most gay of flow’rs.<br/> +Forgotten had the earth his poor estate<br/> +Of winter, that him naked made and mate,* *dejected, lifeless<br/> +And with his sword of cold so sore grieved;<br/> +Now hath th’attemper* sun all that releaved** *temperate **furnished<br/> +That naked was, and clad it new again. anew with leaves<br/> +The smalle fowles, of the season fain,* *glad<br/> +That of the panter* and the net be scap’d, *draw-net<br/> +Upon the fowler, that them made awhap’d* *terrified, confounded<br/> +In winter, and destroyed had their brood,<br/> +In his despite them thought it did them good<br/> +To sing of him, and in their song despise<br/> +The foule churl, that, for his covetise,* *greed<br/> +Had them betrayed with his sophistry* *deceptions<br/> +This was their song: “The fowler we defy,<br/> +And all his craft:” and some sunge clear<br/> +Layes of love, that joy it was to hear,<br/> +In worshipping* and praising of their make;** *honouring **mate<br/> +And for the blissful newe summer’s sake,<br/> +Upon the branches full of blossoms soft,<br/> +In their delight they turned them full oft,<br/> +And sunge, “Blessed be Saint Valentine! <7><br/> +For on his day I chose you to be mine,<br/> +Withoute repenting, my hearte sweet.”<br/> +And therewithal their heals began to meet,<br/> +Yielding honour, and humble obeisances,<br/> +To love, and did their other observances<br/> +That longen unto Love and to Nature;<br/> +Construe that as you list, I *do no cure.* *care nothing*<br/> +And those that hadde *done unkindeness,* *committed offence<br/> +As doth the tidife, <8> for newfangleness, against natural laws*<br/> +Besoughte mercy for their trespassing<br/> +And humblely sange their repenting,<br/> +And swore upon the blossoms to be true;<br/> +So that their mates would upon them rue,* *take pity<br/> +And at the laste made their accord.* *reconciliation<br/> +All* found they Danger** for a time a lord, *although **disdain<br/> +Yet Pity, through her stronge gentle might,<br/> +Forgave, and made mercy pass aright<br/> +Through Innocence, and ruled Courtesy.<br/> +But I ne call not innocence folly<br/> +Nor false pity, for virtue is the mean,<br/> +As Ethic <9> saith, in such manner I mean.<br/> +And thus these fowles, void of all malice,<br/> +Accorded unto Love, and lefte vice<br/> +Of hate, and sangen all of one accord,<br/> +“Welcome, Summer, our governor and lord!”<br/> +And Zephyrus and Flora gentilly<br/> +Gave to the flowers, soft and tenderly,<br/> +Their sweete breath, and made them for to spread,<br/> +As god and goddess of the flow’ry mead;<br/> +In which me thought I mighte, day by day,<br/> +Dwellen alway, the jolly month of May,<br/> +Withoute sleep, withoute meat or drink.<br/> +Adown full softly I began to sink,<br/> +And, leaning on mine elbow and my side<br/> +The longe day I shope* to abide, *resolved, prepared<br/> +For nothing elles, and I shall not lie<br/> +But for to look upon the daisy;<br/> +That men by reason well it calle may<br/> +The Daye’s-eye, or else the Eye of Day,<br/> +The empress and the flow’r of flowers all<br/> +I pray to God that faire may she fall!<br/> +And all that love flowers, for her sake:<br/> +But, nathelesse, *ween not that I make* *do not fancy that I<br/> +In praising of the Flow’r against the Leaf, write this poem*<br/> +No more than of the corn against the sheaf;<br/> +For as to me is lever none nor lother,<br/> +I n’am withholden yet with neither n’other.<10><br/> +*Nor I n’ot* who serves Leaf, nor who the Flow’r; *nor do I know*<br/> +Well *brooke they* their service or labour! *may they profit by*<br/> +For this thing is all of another tun, <11><br/> +Of old story, ere such thing was begun. +</p> + +<p> +When that the sun out of the south gan west,<br/> +And that this flow’r gan close, and go to rest,<br/> +For darkness of the night, the which she dread;* *dreaded<br/> +Home to my house full swiftly I me sped,<br/> +To go to rest, and early for to rise,<br/> +To see this flower spread, as I devise.* *describe<br/> +And in a little arbour that I have,<br/> +That benched was of turfes fresh y-grave,* <12> *cut out<br/> +I bade men shoulde me my couche make;<br/> +For dainty* of the newe summer’s sake, *pleasure<br/> +I bade them strowe flowers on my bed.<br/> +When I was laid, and had mine eyen hid,<br/> +I fell asleep; within an hour or two,<br/> +Me mette* how I lay in the meadow tho,** *dreamed **then<br/> +To see this flow’r that I love so and dread.<br/> +And from afar came walking in the mead<br/> +The God of Love, and in his hand a queen;<br/> +And she was clad in royal habit green;<br/> +A fret* of gold she hadde next her hair, *band<br/> +And upon that a white corown she bare,<br/> +With flowrons* small, and, as I shall not lie, *florets <13><br/> +For all the world right as a daisy<br/> +Y-crowned is, with white leaves lite,* *small<br/> +So were the flowrons of her crowne white.<br/> +For of one pearle, fine, oriential,<br/> +Her white crowne was y-maked all,<br/> +For which the white crown above the green<br/> +Made her like a daisy for to see’n,* *look upon<br/> +Consider’d eke her fret of gold above.<br/> +Y-clothed was this mighty God of Love<br/> +In silk embroider’d, full of greene greves,* *boughs<br/> +In which there was a fret of red rose leaves,<br/> +The freshest since the world was first begun.<br/> +His gilt hair was y-crowned with a sun,<br/> +lnstead of gold, for* heaviness and weight; *to avoid<br/> +Therewith me thought his face shone so bright,<br/> +That well unnethes might I him behold;<br/> +And in his hand me thought I saw him hold<br/> +Two fiery dartes, as the gledes* red; *glowing coals<br/> +And angel-like his winges saw I spread.<br/> +And *all be* that men say that blind is he, *although*<br/> +Algate* me thoughte that he might well see; *at all events<br/> +For sternly upon me he gan behold,<br/> +So that his looking *did my hearte cold.* *made my heart<br/> +And by the hand he held this noble queen, grow cold*<br/> +Crowned with white, and clothed all in green,<br/> +So womanly, so benign, and so meek,<br/> +That in this worlde, though that men would seek.<br/> +Half of her beauty shoulde they not find<br/> +In creature that formed is by Kind;* *Nature<br/> +And therefore may I say, as thinketh me,<br/> +This song in praising of this lady free: +</p> + +<p> +“Hide, Absolon, thy gilte* tresses clear; *golden<br/> +Esther, lay thou thy meekness all adown;<br/> +Hide, Jonathan, all thy friendly mannere,<br/> +Penelope, and Marcia Catoun,<14><br/> +Make of your wifehood no comparisoun;<br/> +Hide ye your beauties, Isoude <15> and Helene;<br/> +My lady comes, that all this may distain.* *outdo, obscure +</p> + +<p> +“Thy faire body let it not appear,<br/> +Lavine; <16> and thou, Lucrece of Rome town;<br/> +And Polyxene, <17> that boughte love so dear,<br/> +And Cleopatra, with all thy passioun,<br/> +Hide ye your truth of love, and your renown;<br/> +And thou, Thisbe, that hadst of love such pain<br/> +My lady comes, that all this may distain. +</p> + +<p> +“Hero, Dido, Laodamia, y-fere,* *together<br/> +And Phyllis, hanging for Demophoon,<br/> +And Canace, espied by thy cheer,<br/> +Hypsipyle, betrayed by Jasoun,<br/> +Make of your truthe neither boast nor soun’;<br/> +Nor Hypermnestr’ nor Ariadne, ye twain;<br/> +My lady comes, that all this may distain.” +</p> + +<p> +This ballad may full well y-sungen be,<br/> +As I have said erst, by my lady free;<br/> +For, certainly, all these may not suffice<br/> +*T’appaire with* my lady in no wise; *surpass in beauty<br/> +For, as the sunne will the fire distain, or honour*<br/> +So passeth all my lady sovereign,<br/> +That is so good, so fair, so debonair,<br/> +I pray to God that ever fall her fair!<br/> +For *n’hadde comfort been* of her presence, *had I not the<br/> +I had been dead, without any defence, comfort of*<br/> +For dread of Love’s wordes, and his cheer;<br/> +As, when time is, hereafter ye shall hear.<br/> +Behind this God of Love, upon the green,<br/> +I saw coming of Ladies nineteen,<br/> +In royal habit, a full easy pace;<br/> +And after them of women such a trace,* *train<br/> +That, since that God Adam had made of earth,<br/> +The thirde part of mankind, or the ferth,* *fourth<br/> +*Ne ween’d I not* by possibility, *I never fancied*<br/> +Had ever in this wide world y-be;* *been<br/> +And true of love these women were each one.<br/> +Now whether was that a wonder thing, or non,* *not<br/> +That, right anon as that they gan espy<br/> +This flow’r, which that I call the daisy,<br/> +Full suddenly they stenten* all at once, *stopped<br/> +And kneeled down, as it were for the nonce,<br/> +And sange with one voice, “Heal and honour<br/> +To truth of womanhead, and to this flow’r,<br/> +*That bears our aller prize in figuring;* *that in its figure bears<br/> +Her white crowne bears the witnessing!” the prize from us all*<br/> +And with that word, *a-compass enviroun* *all around in a ring*<br/> +They sette them full softely adown.<br/> +First sat the God of Love, and since* his queen, *afterwards<br/> +With the white corowne, clad in green;<br/> +And sithen* all the remnant by and by, *then<br/> +As they were of estate, full courteously;<br/> +And not a word was spoken in the place,<br/> +The mountance* of a furlong way of space. *extent <18> +</p> + +<p> +I, kneeling by this flow’r, in good intent<br/> +Abode, to knowe what this people meant,<br/> +As still as any stone, till, at the last,<br/> +The God of Love on me his eyen cast,<br/> +And said, “Who kneeleth there? “and I answer’d<br/> +Unto his asking, when that I it heard,<br/> +And said, “It am I,” and came to him near,<br/> +And salued* him. Quoth he, “What dost thou here, *saluted<br/> +So nigh mine owen flow’r, so boldely?<br/> +It were better worthy, truely,<br/> +A worm to nighe* near my flow’r than thou.” *approach, draw nigh<br/> +“And why, Sir,” quoth I, “an’ it liketh you?”<br/> +“For thou,” quoth he, “art thereto nothing able,<br/> +It is my relic,* dign** and delectable, *emblem <19> **worthy<br/> +And thou my foe, and all my folk warrayest,* *molestest, censurest<br/> +And of mine olde servants thou missayest,<br/> +And hind’rest them, with thy translation,<br/> +And lettest* folk from their devotion *preventest<br/> +To serve me, and holdest it folly<br/> +To serve Love; thou may’st it not deny;<br/> +For in plain text, withoute need of glose,* *comment, gloss<br/> +Thu hast translated the Romance of the Rose,<br/> +That is a heresy against my law,<br/> +And maketh wise folk from me withdraw;<br/> +And of Cresside thou hast said as thee list,<br/> +That maketh men to women less to trust,<br/> +That be as true as e’er was any steel.<br/> +Of thine answer *advise thee right weel;* *consider right well*<br/> +For though that thou *renied hast my lay,* *abjured my law<br/> +As other wretches have done many a day, or religion*<br/> +By Sainte Venus, that my mother is,<br/> +If that thou live, thou shalt repente this,<br/> +So cruelly, that it shall well be seen.” +</p> + +<p> +Then spake this Lady, clothed all in green,<br/> +And saide, “God, right of your courtesy,<br/> +Ye mighte hearken if he can reply<br/> +Against all this, that ye have *to him meved;* *advanced against him*<br/> +A godde shoulde not be thus aggrieved,<br/> +But of his deity he shall be stable,<br/> +And thereto gracious and merciable.* *merciful<br/> +And if ye n’ere* a god, that knoweth all, *were not<br/> +Then might it be, as I you telle shall,<br/> +This man to you may falsely be accused,<br/> +Whereas by right him ought to be excused;<br/> +For in your court is many a losengeour,* *deceiver <20><br/> +And many a *quaint toteler accusour,* *strange prating accuser <21>*<br/> +That tabour* in your eares many a soun’, *drum<br/> +Right after their imaginatioun,<br/> +To have your dalliance,* and for envy; *pleasant conversation,<br/> +These be the causes, and I shall not lie, company<br/> +Envy is lavender* of the Court alway, *laundress<br/> +For she departeth neither night nor day <22><br/> +Out of the house of Caesar, thus saith Dant’;<br/> +Whoso that go’th, algate* she shall not want. *at all events<br/> +And eke, parauntre,* for this man is nice,** *peradventure **foolish<br/> +He mighte do it guessing* no malice; *thinking<br/> +For he useth thinges for to make;* *compose poetry<br/> +Him *recketh naught of * what mattere he take; *cares nothing for*<br/> +Or he was bidden *make thilke tway* *compose those two*<br/> +Of* some person, and durst it not withsay;* *by **refuse, deny<br/> +Or him repenteth utterly of this.<br/> +He hath not done so grievously amiss,<br/> +To translate what olde clerkes write,<br/> +As though that he of malice would endite,* *write down<br/> +*Despite of* Love, and had himself it wrought. *contempt for*<br/> +This should a righteous lord have in his thought,<br/> +And not be like tyrants of Lombardy,<br/> +That have no regard but at tyranny.<br/> +For he that king or lord is naturel,<br/> +Him oughte not be tyrant or cruel, <23><br/> +As is a farmer, <24> to do the harm he can;<br/> +He muste think, it is his liegeman,<br/> +And is his treasure, and his gold in coffer;<br/> +This is the sentence* of the philosopher: *opinion, sentiment<br/> +A king to keep his lieges in justice,<br/> +Withoute doubte that is his office.<br/> +All* will he keep his lords in their degree, — *although<br/> +As it is right and skilful* that they be, *reasonable<br/> +Enhanced and honoured, and most dear,<br/> +For they be halfe* in this world here, — *demigods<br/> +Yet must he do both right to poor and rich,<br/> +All be that their estate be not y-lich;* *alike<br/> +And have of poore folk compassion.<br/> +For lo! the gentle kind of the lion;<br/> +For when a fly offendeth him, or biteth,<br/> +He with his tail away the flye smiteth,<br/> +All easily; for of his gentery* *nobleness<br/> +Him deigneth not to wreak him on a fly,<br/> +As doth a cur, or else another beast.<br/> +*In noble corage ought to be arrest,* *in a noble nature ought<br/> +And weighen ev’rything by equity, to be self-restraint*<br/> +And ever have regard to his degree.<br/> +For, Sir, it is no mastery for a lord<br/> +To damn* a man, without answer of word; *condemn<br/> +And for a lord, that is *full foul to use.* *most infamous practice*<br/> +And it be so he* may him not excuse, *the offender<br/> +But asketh mercy with a dreadful* heart, *fearing, timid<br/> +And proffereth him, right in his bare shirt,<br/> +To be right at your owen judgement,<br/> +Then ought a god, by short advisement,* *deliberation<br/> +Consider his own honour, and his trespass;<br/> +For since no pow’r of death lies in this case,<br/> +You ought to be the lighter merciable;<br/> +Lette* your ire, and be somewhat tractable! *restrain<br/> +This man hath served you of his cunning,* *ability, skill<br/> +And further’d well your law in his making.* *composing poetry<br/> +Albeit that he cannot well endite,<br/> +Yet hath he made lewed* folk delight *ignorant<br/> +To serve you, in praising of your name.<br/> +He made the book that hight the House of Fame,<br/> +And eke the Death of Blanche the Duchess,<br/> +And the Parliament of Fowles, as I guess,<br/> +And all the Love of Palamon and Arcite, <25><br/> +Of Thebes, though the story is known lite;* *little<br/> +And many a hymne for your holydays,<br/> +That highte ballads, roundels, virelays.<br/> +And, for to speak of other holiness,<br/> +He hath in prose translated Boece, <26><br/> +And made the Life also of Saint Cecile;<br/> +He made also, gone is a greate while,<br/> +Origenes upon the Magdalene. <27><br/> +Him oughte now to have the lesse pain;* *penalty<br/> +He hath made many a lay, and many a thing.<br/> +Now as ye be a god, and eke a king,<br/> +I your Alcestis, <28> whilom queen of Thrace,<br/> +I aske you this man, right of your grace,<br/> +That ye him never hurt in all his life;<br/> +And he shall sweare to you, and that blife,* *quickly<br/> +He shall no more aguilten* in this wise, *offend<br/> +But shall maken, as ye will him devise,<br/> +Of women true in loving all their life,<br/> +Whereso ye will, of maiden or of wife,<br/> +And further you as much as he missaid<br/> +Or* in the Rose, or elles in Cresseide.” *either +</p> + +<p> +The God of Love answered her anon:<br/> +“Madame,” quoth he, “it is so long agone<br/> +That I you knew, so charitable and true,<br/> +That never yet, since that the world was new,<br/> +To me ne found I better none than ye;<br/> +If that I woulde save my degree,<br/> +I may nor will not warne* your request; *refuse<br/> +All lies in you, do with him as you lest.<br/> +I all forgive withoute longer space;* *delay<br/> +For he who gives a gift, or doth a grace,<br/> +Do it betimes, his thank is well the more; <29><br/> +And deeme* ye what he shall do therefor. *adjudge<br/> +Go thanke now my Lady here,” quoth he.<br/> +I rose, and down I set me on my knee,<br/> +And saide thus; “Madame, the God above<br/> +Foryielde* you that ye the God of Love *reward<br/> +Have made me his wrathe to forgive;<br/> +And grace* so longe for to live, *give me grace<br/> +That I may knowe soothly what ye be,<br/> +That have me help’d, and put in this degree!<br/> +But truely I ween’d, as in this case,<br/> +Naught t’ have aguilt,* nor done to Love trespass;** *offended<br/> +For why? a true man, withoute dread, **offence<br/> +Hath not *to parte with* a thieve’s deed. *any share in*<br/> +Nor a true lover oughte me to blame,<br/> +Though that I spoke a false lover some shame.<br/> +They oughte rather with me for to hold,<br/> +For that I of Cressida wrote or told,<br/> +Or of the Rose, *what so mine author meant;* *made a true translation*<br/> +Algate, God wot, it was mine intent *by all ways<br/> +To further truth in love, and it cherice,* *cherish<br/> +And to beware from falseness and from vice,<br/> +By such example; this was my meaning.” +</p> + +<p> +And she answer’d; “Let be thine arguing,<br/> +For Love will not counterpleaded be <30><br/> +In right nor wrong, and learne that of me;<br/> +Thou hast thy grace, and hold thee right thereto.<br/> +Now will I say what penance thou shalt do<br/> +For thy trespass;* and understand it here: *offence<br/> +Thou shalt, while that thou livest, year by year,<br/> +The moste partie of thy time spend<br/> +In making of a glorious Legend<br/> +Of Goode Women, maidenes and wives,<br/> +That were true in loving all their lives;<br/> +And tell of false men that them betray,<br/> +That all their life do naught but assay<br/> +How many women they may do a shame;<br/> +For in your world that is now *held a game.* *considered a sport*<br/> +And though thou like not a lover be, <31><br/> +Speak well of love; this penance give I thee.<br/> +And to the God of Love I shall so pray,<br/> +That he shall charge his servants, by any way,<br/> +To further thee, and well thy labour quite:* *requite<br/> +Go now thy way, thy penance is but lite.<br/> +And, when this book ye make, give it the queen<br/> +On my behalf, at Eltham, or at Sheen.” +</p> + +<p> +The God of Love gan smile, and then he said:<br/> +“Know’st thou,” quoth he, “whether this be wife or maid,<br/> +Or queen, or countess, or of what degree,<br/> +That hath so little penance given thee,<br/> +That hath deserved sorely for to smart?<br/> +But pity runneth soon in gentle* heart; <32> *nobly born<br/> +That may’st thou see, she kitheth* what she is. *showeth<br/> +And I answer’d: “Nay, Sir, so have I bliss,<br/> +No more but that I see well she is good.”<br/> +“That is a true tale, by my hood,”<br/> +Quoth Love; “and that thou knowest well, pardie!<br/> +If it be so that thou advise* thee. *bethink<br/> +Hast thou not in a book, li’th* in thy chest, *(that) lies<br/> +The greate goodness of the queen Alceste,<br/> +That turned was into a daisy<br/> +She that for her husbande chose to die,<br/> +And eke to go to hell rather than he;<br/> +And Hercules rescued her, pardie!<br/> +And brought her out of hell again to bliss?”<br/> +And I answer’d again, and saide; “Yes,<br/> +Now know I her; and is this good Alceste,<br/> +The daisy, and mine own hearte’s rest?<br/> +Now feel I well the goodness of this wife,<br/> +That both after her death, and in her life,<br/> +Her greate bounty* doubleth her renown. *virtue<br/> +Well hath she quit* me mine affectioun *recompensed<br/> +That I have to her flow’r the daisy;<br/> +No wonder is though Jove her stellify, <33><br/> +As telleth Agathon, <34> for her goodness;<br/> +Her white crowne bears of it witness;<br/> +For all so many virtues hadde she<br/> +As smalle flowrons in her crowne be.<br/> +In remembrance of her, and in honour,<br/> +Cybele made the daisy, and the flow’r,<br/> +Y-crowned all with white, as men may see,<br/> +And Mars gave her a crowne red, pardie!<br/> +Instead of rubies set among the white.” +</p> + +<p> +Therewith this queen wax’d red for shame a lite<br/> +When she was praised so in her presence.<br/> +Then saide Love: “A full great negligence<br/> +Was it to thee, that ilke* time thou made *that same<br/> +‘Hide Absolon thy tresses,’ in ballade,<br/> +That thou forgot her in thy song to set,<br/> +Since that thou art so greatly in her debt,<br/> +And knowest well that calendar* is she *guide, example<br/> +To any woman that will lover be:<br/> +For she taught all the craft of true loving,<br/> +And namely* of wifehood the living, *especially<br/> +And all the boundes that she ought to keep:<br/> +Thy little wit was thilke* time asleep. *that<br/> +But now I charge thee, upon thy life,<br/> +That in thy Legend thou make* of this wife, *poetise, compose<br/> +When thou hast other small y-made before;<br/> +And fare now well, I charge thee no more.<br/> +But ere I go, thus much I will thee tell, —<br/> +Never shall no true lover come in hell.<br/> +These other ladies, sitting here a-row,<br/> +Be in my ballad, if thou canst them know,<br/> +And in thy bookes all thou shalt them find;<br/> +Have them in thy Legend now all in mind;<br/> +I mean of them that be in thy knowing.<br/> +For here be twenty thousand more sitting<br/> +Than that thou knowest, goode women all,<br/> +And true of love, for aught that may befall;<br/> +Make the metres of them as thee lest;<br/> +I must go home, — the sunne draweth west, —<br/> +To Paradise, with all this company:<br/> +And serve alway the freshe daisy.<br/> +At Cleopatra I will that thou begin,<br/> +And so forth, and my love so shalt thou win;<br/> +For let see now what man, that lover be,<br/> +Will do so strong a pain for love as she.<br/> +I wot well that thou may’st not all it rhyme,<br/> +That suche lovers didden in their time;<br/> +It were too long to readen and to hear;<br/> +Suffice me thou make in this mannere,<br/> +That thou rehearse of all their life the great,* *substance<br/> +After* these old authors list for to treat; *according as<br/> +For whoso shall so many a story tell,<br/> +Say shortly, or he shall too longe dwell.” +</p> + +<p> +And with that word my bookes gan I take,<br/> +And right thus on my Legend gan I make. +</p> + +<p> +Thus endeth the Prologue. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to The prologue to The Legend of Good Women +</p> + +<p> +1. Bernard, the Monke, saw not all, pardie!: a proverbial saying, +signifying that even the wisest, or those who claim to be the +wisest, cannot know everything. Saint Bernard, who was the +last, or among the last, of the Fathers, lived in the first half of +the twelfth century. +</p> + +<p> +2. Compare Chaucer’s account of his habits, in “The House of +Fame.” +</p> + +<p> +3. See introductory note to “The Flower and the Leaf.” +</p> + +<p> +4. “ye have herebefore +Of making ropen, and led away the corn” +The meaning is, that the “lovers” have long ago said all that can +be said, by way of poetry, or “making” on the subject. See note +89 to “Troilus and Cressida” for the etymology of “making” +meaning “writing poetry.” +</p> + +<p> +5. The poet glides here into an address to his lady. +</p> + +<p> +6. Europa was the daughter of Agenores, king of Phrygia. She +was carried away to Crete by Jupiter, disguised as a lovely and +tame bull, on whose back Europa mounted as she was sporting +with her maidens by the sea-shore. The story is beautifully told +in Horace, Odes, iii. 27. +</p> + +<p> +7. See “The Assembly of Fowls,” which was supposed to +happen on St. Valentine’s day. +</p> + +<p> +8. The tidife: The titmouse, or any other small bird, which +sometimes brings up the cuckoo’s young when its own have +been destroyed. See note 44 to “The Assembly of Fowls.” +</p> + +<p> +9. Ethic: the “Ethics” of Aristotle. +</p> + +<p> +10. “For as to me is lever none nor lother, +I n’am withholden yet with neither n’other.” +i.e For as neither is more liked or disliked by me, I am not +bound by, holden to, either the one or the other. +</p> + +<p> +11. All of another tun i.e. wine of another tun — a quite +different matter. +</p> + +<p> +12. Compare the description of the arbour in “The Flower and +the Leaf.” +</p> + +<p> +13. Flowrons: florets; little flowers on the disk of the main +flower; French “fleuron.” +</p> + +<p> +14. Mr Bell thinks that Chaucer here praises the complaisance +of Marcia, the wife of Cato, in complying with his will when he +made her over to his friend Hortensius. It would be in better +keeping with the spirit of the poet’s praise, to believe that we +should read “Porcia Catoun” — Porcia the daughter of Cato, +who was married to Brutus, and whose perfect wifehood has +been celebrated in The Franklin’s Tale. See note 25 to the +Franklin’s Tale. +</p> + +<p> +15. Isoude: See note 21 to “The Assembly of Fowls”. +</p> + +<p> +16. Lavine: Lavinia, the heroine of the Aeneid, who became the +wife of Aeneas. +</p> + +<p> +17. Polyxena, daughter of Priam, king of Troy, fell in +love with Achilles, and, when he was killed, she fled to the +Greek camp, and slew herself on the tomb of her hero-lover. +</p> + +<p> +18. Mountance: extent, duration. See note 84 to “The House of +Fame”. +</p> + +<p> +19. Relic: emblem; or cherished treasure; like the relics at +the shrines of saints. +</p> + +<p> +20. Losengeour: deceiver. See note 31 to the Nun’s Priest’s +Tale. +</p> + +<p> +21. “Toteler” is an old form of the word “tatler,” from the +Anglo-Saxon, “totaelan,” to talk much, to tattle. +</p> + +<p> +22. Envy is lavender of the court alway: a “lavender” is a +washerwoman or laundress; the word represents “meretrice”in +Dante’s original — meaning a courtezan; but we can well +understand that Chaucer thought it prudent, and at the same +time more true to the moral state of the English Court, to +change the character assigned to Envy. He means that Envy is +perpetually at Court, like some garrulous, bitter old woman +employed there in the most servile offices, who remains at her +post through all the changes among the courtiers. The passage +cited from Dante will be found in the “Inferno,” canto xiii. 64 — +69. +</p> + +<p> +23. Chaucer says that the usurping lords who seized on the +government of the free Lombard cities, had no regard for any +rule of government save sheer tyranny — but a natural lord, and +no usurper, ought not to be a tyrant. +</p> + +<p> +24. Farmer: one who merely farms power or revenue for his +own purposes and his own gain. +</p> + +<p> +25. This was the first version of the Knight’s tale. See the +introductory note, above +</p> + +<p> +26. Boece: Boethius’ “De Consolatione Philosophiae;” to which +frequent reference is made in The Canterbury Tales. See, for +instances, note 91 to the Knight’s Tale; and note 34 to the +Squire’s Tale. +</p> + +<p> +27. A poem entitled “The Lamentation of Mary Magdalene,” +said to have been “taken out of St Origen,” is included in the +editions of Chaucer; but its authenticity, and consequently its +identity with the poem here mentioned, are doubted. +</p> + +<p> +28. For the story of Alcestis, see note 11 to “The Court of +Love.” +</p> + +<p> +29. “For he who gives a gift, or doth a grace,<br/> + Do it betimes, his thank is well the more”<br/> +A paraphrase of the well-known proverb, “Bis dat qui cito dat.”<br/> +(“He gives twice who gives promptly”) +</p> + +<p> +30. The same prohibition occurs in the Fifteenth Statute of “The +Court of Love.” +</p> + +<p> +31. Chaucer is always careful to allege his abstinence from the +pursuits of gallantry; he does so prominently in “The Court of +Love,” “The Assembly of Fowls,” and “The House of Fame.” +</p> + +<p> +32. Pity runneth soon in gentle heart: the same is said of +Theseus, in The Knight’s Tale, and of Canace, by the falcon, in +The Squire’s Tale. +</p> + +<p> +33. Stellify: assign to a place among the stars; as Jupiter did to +Andromeda and Cassiopeia. +</p> + +<p> +34. Agathon: there was an Athenian dramatist of this name, +who might have made the virtues and fortunes of Alcestis his +theme; but the reference is too vague for the author to be +identified with any confidence. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap38"></a> +CHAUCER’S A. B. C. <1><br/> +CALLED<br/> +LA PRIERE DE NOSTRE DAME <2> +</h2> + +<h4>A.</h4> + +<p> +ALMIGHTY and all-merciable* Queen, *all-merciful<br/> +To whom all this world fleeth for succour,<br/> +To have release of sin, of sorrow, of teen!* *affliction<br/> +Glorious Virgin! of all flowers flow’r,<br/> +To thee I flee, confounded in errour!<br/> +Help and relieve, almighty debonair,* *gracious, gentle<br/> +Have mercy of my perilous languour!<br/> +Vanquish’d me hath my cruel adversair. +</p> + +<h4>B.</h4> + +<p> +Bounty* so fix’d hath in thy heart his tent, *goodness, charity<br/> +That well I wot thou wilt my succour be;<br/> +Thou canst not *warne that* with good intent *refuse he who*<br/> +Asketh thy help, thy heart is ay so free!<br/> +Thou art largess* of plein** felicity, *liberal bestower **full<br/> +Haven and refuge of quiet and rest!<br/> +Lo! how that thieves seven <3> chase me!<br/> +Help, Lady bright, ere that my ship to-brest!* *be broken to pieces +</p> + +<h4>C.</h4> + +<p> +Comfort is none, but in you, Lady dear!<br/> +For lo! my sin and my confusion,<br/> +Which ought not in thy presence to appear,<br/> +Have ta’en on me a grievous action,* *control<br/> +Of very right and desperation!<br/> +And, as by right, they mighte well sustene<br/> +That I were worthy my damnation,<br/> +Ne were it mercy of you, blissful Queen! +</p> + +<h4>D.</h4> + +<p> +Doubt is there none, Queen of misericorde,* *compassion<br/> +That thou art cause of grace and mercy here;<br/> +God vouchesaf’d, through thee, with us t’accord;* *to be reconciled<br/> +For, certes, Christe’s blissful mother dear!<br/> +Were now the bow y-bent, in such mannere<br/> +As it was first, of justice and of ire,<br/> +The rightful God would of no mercy hear;<br/> +But through thee have we grace as we desire. +</p> + +<h4>E.</h4> + +<p> +Ever hath my hope of refuge in thee be’;<br/> +For herebefore full oft in many a wise<br/> +Unto mercy hast thou received me.<br/> +But mercy, Lady! at the great assize,<br/> +When we shall come before the high Justice!<br/> +So little fruit shall then in me be found,<br/> +That,* thou ere that day correcte me, *unless<br/> +Of very right my work will me confound. +</p> + +<h4>F.</h4> + +<p> +Flying, I flee for succour to thy tent,<br/> +Me for to hide from tempest full of dread;<br/> +Beseeching you, that ye you not absent,<br/> +Though I be wick’. O help yet at this need!<br/> +All* have I been a beast in wit and deed, *although<br/> +Yet, Lady! thou me close in with thy grace;<br/> +*Thine enemy and mine,* — Lady, take heed! — *the devil*<br/> +Unto my death in point is me to chase. +</p> + +<h4>G.</h4> + +<p> +Gracious Maid and Mother! which that never<br/> +Wert bitter nor in earthe nor in sea, <4><br/> +But full of sweetness and of mercy ever,<br/> +Help, that my Father be not wroth with me!<br/> +Speak thou, for I ne dare Him not see;<br/> +So have I done in earth, alas the while!<br/> +That, certes, but if thou my succour be,<br/> +To sink etern He will my ghost exile. +</p> + +<h4>H.</h4> + +<p> +He vouchesaf’d, tell Him, as was His will,<br/> +Become a man, *as for our alliance,* *to ally us with god*<br/> +And with His blood He wrote that blissful bill<br/> +Upon the cross, as general acquittance<br/> +To ev’ry penitent in full creance;* *belief<br/> +And therefore, Lady bright! thou for us pray;<br/> +Then shalt thou stenten* alle His grievance, *put an end to<br/> +And make our foe to failen of his prey. +</p> + +<h4>I.</h4> + +<p> +I wote well thou wilt be our succour,<br/> +Thou art so full of bounty in certain;<br/> +For, when a soule falleth in errour,<br/> +Thy pity go’th, and haleth* him again; *draweth<br/> +Then makest thou his peace with his Sov’reign,<br/> +And bringest him out of the crooked street:<br/> +Whoso thee loveth shall not love in vain,<br/> +That shall he find *as he the life shall lete.* *when he leaves<br/> + life*<br/> + K. +</p> + +<p> +*Kalendares illumined* be they *brilliant exemplars*<br/> +That in this world be lighted with thy name;<br/> +And whoso goeth with thee the right way,<br/> +Him shall not dread in soule to be lame;<br/> +Now, Queen of comfort! since thou art the same<br/> +To whom I seeke for my medicine,<br/> +Let not my foe no more my wound entame;* *injure, molest<br/> +My heal into thy hand all I resign. +</p> + +<h4>L.</h4> + +<p> +Lady, thy sorrow can I not portray<br/> +Under that cross, nor his grievous penance;<br/> +But, for your bothe’s pain, I you do pray,<br/> +Let not our *aller foe* make his boastance, *the foe of us all —<br/> +That he hath in his listes, with mischance, Satan*<br/> +*Convicte that* ye both have bought so dear; *ensnared that which*<br/> +As I said erst, thou ground of all substance!<br/> +Continue on us thy piteous eyen clear. +</p> + +<h4>M.</h4> + +<p> +Moses, that saw the bush of flames red<br/> +Burning, of which then never a stick brenn’d,* *burned<br/> +Was sign of thine unwemmed* maidenhead. *unblemished<br/> +Thou art the bush, on which there gan descend<br/> +The Holy Ghost, the which that Moses wend* *weened, supposed<br/> +Had been on fire; and this was in figure. <5><br/> +Now, Lady! from the fire us do defend,<br/> +Which that in hell eternally shall dure. +</p> + +<h4>N.</h4> + +<p> +Noble Princess! that never haddest peer;<br/> +Certes if any comfort in us be,<br/> +That cometh of thee, Christe’s mother dear!<br/> +We have none other melody nor glee,* *pleasure<br/> +Us to rejoice in our adversity;<br/> +Nor advocate, that will and dare so pray<br/> +For us, and for as little hire as ye,<br/> +That helpe for an Ave-Mary or tway. +</p> + +<h4>O.</h4> + +<p> +O very light of eyen that be blind!<br/> +O very lust* of labour and distress! *relief, pleasure<br/> +O treasurer of bounty to mankind!<br/> +The whom God chose to mother for humbless!<br/> +From his ancill* <6> he made thee mistress *handmaid<br/> +Of heav’n and earth, our *billes up to bede;* *offer up our petitions*<br/> +This world awaiteth ever on thy goodness;<br/> +For thou ne failedst never wight at need. +</p> + +<h4>P.</h4> + +<p> +Purpose I have sometime for to enquere<br/> +Wherefore and why the Holy Ghost thee sought,<br/> +When Gabrielis voice came to thine ear;<br/> +He not to war* us such a wonder wrought, *afflict<br/> +But for to save us, that sithens us bought:<br/> +Then needeth us no weapon us to save,<br/> +But only, where we did not as we ought,<br/> +Do penitence, and mercy ask and have. +</p> + +<h4>Q.</h4> + +<p> +Queen of comfort, right when I me bethink<br/> +That I aguilt* have bothe Him and thee, *offended<br/> +And that my soul is worthy for to sink,<br/> +Alas! I, caitiff, whither shall I flee?<br/> +Who shall unto thy Son my meane* be? *medium of approach<br/> +Who, but thyself, that art of pity well?* *fountain<br/> +Thou hast more ruth on our adversity<br/> +Than in this world might any tongue tell! +</p> + +<h4>R.</h4> + +<p> +Redress me, Mother, and eke me chastise!<br/> +For certainly my Father’s chastising<br/> +I dare not abiden in no wise,<br/> +So hideous is his full reckoning.<br/> +Mother! of whom our joy began to spring,<br/> +Be ye my judge, and eke my soule’s leach;* *physician<br/> +For ay in you is pity abounding<br/> +To each that will of pity you beseech. +</p> + +<h4>S.</h4> + +<p> +Sooth is it that He granteth no pity<br/> +Withoute thee; for God of his goodness<br/> +Forgiveth none, *but it like unto thee;* *unless it please<br/> +He hath thee made vicar and mistress thee*<br/> +Of all this world, and eke governess<br/> +Of heaven; and represseth his justice<br/> +After* thy will; and therefore in witness *according to<br/> +He hath thee crowned in so royal wise. +</p> + +<h4>T.</h4> + +<p> +Temple devout! where God chose his wonning,* *abode<br/> +From which, these misbeliev’d deprived be,<br/> +To you my soule penitent I bring;<br/> +Receive me, for I can no farther flee.<br/> +With thornes venomous, O Heaven’s Queen!<br/> +For which the earth accursed was full yore,<br/> +I am so wounded, as ye may well see,<br/> +That I am lost almost, it smart so sore! +</p> + +<h4>V.</h4> + +<p> +Virgin! that art so noble of apparail,* *aspect<br/> +That leadest us into the highe tow’r<br/> +Of Paradise, thou me *wiss and counsail* *direct and counsel*<br/> +How I may have thy grace and thy succour;<br/> +All have I been in filth and in errour,<br/> +Lady! *on that country thou me adjourn,* *take me to that place*<br/> +That called is thy bench of freshe flow’r,<br/> +There as that mercy ever shall sojourn. +</p> + +<h4>X.</h4> + +<p> +Xpe <7> thy Son, that in this world alight,<br/> +Upon a cross to suffer his passioun,<br/> +And suffer’d eke that Longeus his heart pight,* <8> *pierced<br/> +And made his hearte-blood to run adown;<br/> +And all this was for my salvatioun:<br/> +And I to him am false and eke unkind,<br/> +And yet he wills not my damnation;<br/> +*This thank I you,* succour of all mankind! *for this I am<br/> + indebted to you*<br/> + Y. +</p> + +<p> +Ysaac was figure of His death certain,<br/> +That so farforth his father would obey,<br/> +That him *ne raughte* nothing to be slain; *he cared not*<br/> +Right so thy Son list as a lamb to dey:* *die<br/> +Now, Lady full of mercy! I you pray,<br/> +Since he his mercy ’sured me so large,<br/> +Be ye not scant, for all we sing and say,<br/> +That ye be from vengeance alway our targe.* *shield, defence +</p> + +<h4>Z.</h4> + +<p> +Zachary you calleth the open well <9><br/> +That washed sinful soul out of his guilt;<br/> +Therefore this lesson out I will to tell,<br/> +That, n’ere* thy tender hearte, we were spilt.** *were it not for<br/> +Now, Lady brighte! since thou canst and wilt, *destroyed, undone*<br/> +Be to the seed of Adam merciable;* *merciful<br/> +Bring us unto that palace that is built<br/> +To penitents that be *to mercy able!* *fit to receive mercy* +</p> + +<p> +Explicit.* *The end +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to Chaucer’s A. B. C. +</p> + +<p> +1. Chaucer’s A. B. C. — a prayer to the Virgin, in twenty three +verses, beginning with the letters of the alphabet in their +order — is said to have been written “at the request of Blanche, +Duchess of Lancaster, as a prayer for her private use, being a +woman in her religion very devout.” It was first printed in +Speght’s edition of 1597. +</p> + +<p> +2. La Priere De Nostre Dame: French, “The Prayer of Our +Lady.” +</p> + +<p> +3. Thieves seven: i.e. the seven deadly sins +</p> + +<p> +4. Mary’s name recalls the waters of “Marah” or bitterness +(Exod. xv. 23), or the prayer of Naomi in her grief that she +might be called not Naomi, but “Mara” (Ruth i. 20). Mary, +however, is understood to mean “exalted.” +</p> + +<p> +5. A typical representation. See The Prioress’s Tale, third +stanza. +</p> + +<p> +6. The reference evidently is to Luke i. 38 — “Ecce ancilla +Domini,” (“Behold the handmaid of the Lord”) the Virgin’s +humble answer to Gabriel at the Annunciation. +</p> + +<p> +7. “Xpe” represents the Greek letters chi rho epsilon, and is a +contraction for “Christe.” +</p> + +<p> +8. According to tradition, the soldier who struck the Saviour to +the heart with his spear was named Longeus, and was blind; +but, touching his eyes by chance with the mingled blood and +water that flowed down the shaft upon his hands, he was +instantly restored to sight. +</p> + +<p> +9. “In that day there shall be a fountain opened to the house of +David and to the inhabitants of Jerusalem for sin and for +uncleanness” (Zech. xiii. 1). +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap39"></a> +A GOODLY BALLAD OF CHAUCER.<1> +</h2> + +<p> +MOTHER of nurture, best belov’d of all,<br/> +And freshe flow’r, to whom good thrift God send<br/> +Your child, if it lust* you me so to call, *please<br/> +*All be I* unable myself so to pretend, *although I be<br/> +To your discretion I recommend<br/> +My heart and all, with ev’ry circumstance,<br/> +All wholly to be under your governance. +</p> + +<p> +Most desire I, and have and ever shall,<br/> +Thinge which might your hearte’s ease amend<br/> +Have me excus’d, my power is but small;<br/> +Nathless, of right, ye oughte to commend<br/> +My goode will, which fame would entend* *attend, strive<br/> +To do you service; for my suffisance* *contentment<br/> +Is wholly to be under your governance. +</p> + +<p> +Mieux un in heart which never shall apall, <2><br/> +Ay fresh and new, and right glad to dispend<br/> +My time in your service, what so befall,<br/> +Beseeching your excellence to defend<br/> +My simpleness, if ignorance offend<br/> +In any wise; since that mine affiance<br/> +Is wholly to be under your governance. +</p> + +<p> +Daisy of light, very ground of comfort,<br/> +The sunne’s daughter ye light, as I read;<br/> +For when he west’reth, farewell your disport!<br/> +By your nature alone, right for pure dread<br/> +Of the rude night, that with his *boistous weed* *rude garment*<br/> +Of darkness shadoweth our hemisphere,<br/> +Then close ye, my life’s lady dear! +</p> + +<p> +Dawneth the day unto his kind resort,<br/> +And Phoebus your father, with his streames red,<br/> +Adorns the morrow, consuming the sort* *crowd<br/> +Of misty cloudes, that would overlade<br/> +True humble heartes with their mistihead.* *dimness, mistiness<br/> +New comfort adaws,* when your eyen clear *dawns, awakens<br/> +Disclose and spread, my life’s lady dear. +</p> + +<p> +Je voudrais* — but the greate God disposeth, *I would wish<br/> +And maketh casual, by his Providence,<br/> +Such thing as manne’s fraile wit purposeth,<br/> +All for the best, if that your conscience<br/> +Not grudge it, but in humble patience<br/> +It receive; for God saith, withoute fable,<br/> +A faithful heart ever is acceptable. +</p> + +<p> +Cauteles* whoso useth gladly, gloseth;** *cautious speeches<br/> +To eschew such it is right high prudence; **deceiveth<br/> +What ye said ones mine heart opposeth,<br/> +That my writing japes* in your absence *jests, coarse stories<br/> +Pleased you much better than my presence:<br/> +Yet can I more; ye be not excusable;<br/> +A faithful heart is ever acceptable. +</p> + +<p> +Quaketh my pen; my spirit supposeth<br/> +That in my writing ye will find offence;<br/> +Mine hearte welketh* thus; anon it riseth; *withers, faints<br/> +Now hot, now cold, and after in fervence;<br/> +That is amiss, is caus’d of negligence,<br/> +And not of malice; therefore be merciable;<br/> +A faithful heart is ever acceptable. +</p> + +<p> + L’Envoy. +</p> + +<p> +Forthe, complaint! forth, lacking eloquence;<br/> +Forth little letter, of enditing lame!<br/> +I have besought my lady’s sapience<br/> +On thy behalfe, to accept in game<br/> +Thine inability; do thou the same.<br/> +Abide! have more yet! *Je serve Joyesse!* *I serve Joy*<br/> +Now forth, I close thee in holy Venus’ name!<br/> +Thee shall unclose my hearte’s governess. +</p> + +<p> +Notes To a Goodly Ballad Of Chaucer +</p> + +<p> +1. This elegant little poem is believed to have been addressed to +Margaret, Countess of Pembroke, in whose name Chaucer +found one of those opportunities of praising the daisy he never +lost. (Transcriber’s note: Modern scholars believe that Chaucer +was not the author of this poem) +</p> + +<p> +2. Mieux un in heart which never shall apall: better one who in +heart shall never pall — whose love will never weary. +</p> + +<h3> A BALLAD SENT TO KING RICHARD.</h3> + +<p> +SOMETIME this world was so steadfast and stable,<br/> +That man’s word was held obligation;<br/> +And now it is so false and deceivable,* *deceitful<br/> +That word and work, as in conclusion,<br/> +Be nothing one; for turned up so down<br/> +Is all this world, through meed* and wilfulness, *bribery<br/> +That all is lost for lack of steadfastness. +</p> + +<p> +What makes this world to be so variable,<br/> +But lust* that folk have in dissension? *pleasure<br/> +For now-a-days a man is held unable* *fit for nothing<br/> +*But if* he can, by some collusion,** *unless* *fraud, trick<br/> +Do his neighbour wrong or oppression.<br/> +What causeth this but wilful wretchedness,<br/> +That all is lost for lack of steadfastness? +</p> + +<p> +Truth is put down, reason is holden fable;<br/> +Virtue hath now no domination;<br/> +Pity exil’d, no wight is merciable;<br/> +Through covetise is blent* discretion; *blinded<br/> +The worlde hath made permutation<br/> +From right to wrong, from truth to fickleness,<br/> +That all is lost for lack of steadfastness. +</p> + +<p> + L’Envoy. +</p> + +<p> +O Prince! desire to be honourable;<br/> +Cherish thy folk, and hate extortion;<br/> +Suffer nothing that may be reprovable* *a subject of reproach<br/> +To thine estate, done in thy region;* *kingdom<br/> +Show forth the sword of castigation;<br/> +Dread God, do law, love thorough worthiness,<br/> +And wed thy folk again to steadfastness! +</p> + +<p> + L’ENVOY OF CHAUCER TO BUKTON. <1> +</p> + +<p> +My Master Bukton, when of Christ our King<br/> +Was asked, What is truth or soothfastness?<br/> +He not a word answer’d to that asking,<br/> +As who saith, no man is all true, I guess;<br/> +And therefore, though I highte* to express *promised<br/> +The sorrow and woe that is in marriage,<br/> +I dare not write of it no wickedness,<br/> +Lest I myself fall eft* in such dotage.** *again **folly +</p> + +<p> +I will not say how that it is the chain<br/> +Of Satanas, on which he gnaweth ever;<br/> +But I dare say, were he out of his pain,<br/> +As by his will he would be bounden never.<br/> +But thilke* doated fool that eft had lever *that<br/> +Y-chained be, than out of prison creep,<br/> +God let him never from his woe dissever,<br/> +Nor no man him bewaile though he weep! +</p> + +<p> +But yet, lest thou do worse, take a wife;<br/> +Bet is to wed than burn in worse wise; <2><br/> +But thou shalt have sorrow on thy flesh *thy life,* *all thy life*<br/> +And be thy wife’s thrall, as say these wise.<br/> +And if that Holy Writ may not suffice,<br/> +Experience shall thee teache, so may hap,<br/> +That thee were lever to be taken in Frise, <3><br/> +Than eft* to fall of wedding in the trap. *again +</p> + +<p> +This little writ, proverbes, or figure,<br/> +I sende you; take keep* of it, I read! *heed<br/> +“Unwise is he that can no weal endure;<br/> +If thou be sicker,* put thee not in dread.”** *in security **danger<br/> +The Wife of Bath I pray you that you read,<br/> +Of this mattere which that we have on hand.<br/> +God grante you your life freely to lead<br/> +In freedom, for full hard is to be bond. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to L’Envoy of Chaucer to Bukton. +</p> + +<p> +1. Tyrwhitt, founding on the reference to the Wife of Bath, +places this among Chaucer’s latest compositions; and states that +one Peter de Bukton held the office of king’s escheator for +Yorkshire in 1397. In some of the old editions, the verses were +made the Envoy to the Book of the Duchess Blanche — in very +bad taste, when we consider that the object of that poem was to +console John of Gaunt under the loss of his wife. +</p> + +<p> +2. “But if they cannot contain, let them marry: for it is better to +marry than to burn.” 1 Cor. vii. 9 +</p> + +<p> +3. Lever to be taken in Frise: better to be taken prisoner in +Friesland — where probably some conflict was raging at the +time. +</p> + +<h3> A BALLAD OF GENTLENESS.</h3> + +<p> +THE firste stock-father of gentleness, <1><br/> +What man desireth gentle for to be,<br/> +Must follow his trace, and all his wittes dress,* *apply<br/> +Virtue to love, and vices for to flee;<br/> +For unto virtue longeth dignity,<br/> +And not the reverse, safely dare I deem,<br/> +*All wear he* mitre, crown, or diademe. *whether he wear* +</p> + +<p> +This firste stock was full of righteousness,<br/> +True of his word, sober, pious, and free,<br/> +*Clean of his ghost,* and loved business, *pure of spirit*<br/> +Against the vice of sloth, in honesty;<br/> +And, but his heir love virtue as did he,<br/> +He is not gentle, though he riche seem,<br/> +All wear he mitre, crown, or diademe. +</p> + +<p> +Vice may well be heir to old richess,<br/> +But there may no man, as men may well see,<br/> +Bequeath his heir his virtuous nobless;<br/> +That is appropried* to no degree, *specially reserved<br/> +But to the first Father in majesty,<br/> +Which makes his heire him that doth him queme,* *please<br/> +All wear he mitre, crown, or diademe. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to A Ballad of Gentleness +</p> + +<p> +1. The firste stock-father of gentleness: Christ +</p> + +<h3>THE COMPLAINT OF CHAUCER TO HIS PURSE.</h3> + +<p> +To you, my purse, and to none other wight,<br/> +Complain I, for ye be my lady dear!<br/> +I am sorry now that ye be so light,<br/> +For certes ye now make me heavy cheer;<br/> +Me were as lief be laid upon my bier.<br/> +For which unto your mercy thus I cry,<br/> +Be heavy again, or elles must I die! +</p> + +<p> +Now vouchesafe this day, ere it be night,<br/> +That I of you the blissful sound may hear,<br/> +Or see your colour like the sunne bright,<br/> +That of yellowness hadde peer.<br/> +Ye be my life! Ye be my hearte’s steer!* *rudder<br/> +Queen of comfort and of good company!<br/> +Be heavy again, or elles must I die! +</p> + +<p> +Now, purse! that art to me my life’s light<br/> +And savour, as down in this worlde here,<br/> +Out of this towne help me through your might,<br/> +Since that you will not be my treasurere;<br/> +For I am shave as nigh as any frere. <1><br/> +But now I pray unto your courtesy,<br/> +Be heavy again, or elles must I die! +</p> + +<p> + Chaucer’s Envoy to the King. +</p> + +<p> +O conqueror of Brute’s Albion, <2><br/> +Which by lineage and free election<br/> +Be very king, this song to you I send;<br/> +And ye which may all mine harm amend,<br/> +Have mind upon my supplication! +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to The Complaint of Chaucer to his Purse +</p> + +<p> +1. “I am shave as nigh as any frere” i.e. “I am as bare of coin as +a friar’s tonsure of hair.” +</p> + +<p> +2. Brute, or Brutus, was the legendary first king of Britain. +</p> + +<p> +GOOD COUNSEL OF CHAUCER. <1> +</p> + +<p> +FLEE from the press, and dwell with soothfastness;<br/> +Suffice thee thy good, though it be small;<br/> +For hoard hath hate, and climbing tickleness,* *instability<br/> +Press hath envy, and *weal is blent* o’er all, *prosperity is blinded*<br/> +Savour* no more than thee behove shall; *have a taste for<br/> +Read* well thyself, that other folk canst read; *counsel<br/> +And truth thee shall deliver, it is no dread.* *doubt +</p> + +<p> +Paine thee not each crooked to redress,<br/> +In trust of her that turneth as a ball; <2><br/> +Great rest standeth in little business:<br/> +Beware also to spurn against a nail; <3><br/> +Strive not as doth a crocke* with a wall; *earthen pot<br/> +Deeme* thyself that deemest others’ deed, *judge<br/> +And truth thee shall deliver, it is no dread. +</p> + +<p> +What thee is sent, receive in buxomness;* *submission<br/> +The wrestling of this world asketh a fall;<br/> +Here is no home, here is but wilderness.<br/> +Forth, pilgrim! Forthe beast, out of thy stall!<br/> +Look up on high, and thank thy God of all!<br/> +*Weive thy lust,* and let thy ghost* thee lead, *forsake thy<br/> + And truth thee shall deliver, it is no dread. inclinations*<br/> + *spirit +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to Good Counsel of Chaucer +</p> + +<p> +1. This poem is said to have been composed by Chaucer “upon +his deathbed, lying in anguish.” +</p> + +<p> +2. Her that turneth as a ball: Fortune. +</p> + +<p> +3. To spurn against a nail; “against the pricks.” +</p> + +<p> +PROVERBS OF CHAUCER. <1> +</p> + +<p> +WHAT should these clothes thus manifold,<br/> +Lo! this hot summer’s day?<br/> +After great heate cometh cold;<br/> +No man cast his pilche* away. *pelisse, furred cloak<br/> +Of all this world the large compass<br/> +Will not in mine arms twain;<br/> +Who so muche will embrace,<br/> +Little thereof he shall distrain.* *grasp +</p> + +<p> +The world so wide, the air so remuable,* *unstable<br/> +The silly man so little of stature;<br/> +The green of ground and clothing so mutable,<br/> +The fire so hot and subtile of nature;<br/> +The water *never in one* — what creature *never the same*<br/> +That made is of these foure <2> thus flitting,<br/> +May steadfast be, as here, in his living? +</p> + +<p> +The more I go, the farther I am behind;<br/> +The farther behind, the nearer my war’s end;<br/> +The more I seek, the worse can I find;<br/> +The lighter leave, the lother for to wend; <3><br/> +The better I live, the more out of mind;<br/> +Is this fortune, *n’ot I,* or infortune;* *I know not* *misfortune<br/> +Though I go loose, tied am I with a loigne.* *line, tether +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to Proverbs of Chaucer +</p> + +<p> +1. (Transcriber’s Note: Modern scholars believe that Chaucer’s +may have been the author of the first stanza of this poem, but +was not the author of the second and third). +</p> + +<p> +2. These foure: that is, the four elements, of which man was +believed to be composed. +</p> + +<p> +3. The lighter leave, the lother for to wend: The more easy +(through age) for me to depart, the less willing I am to go. +</p> + +<p> +VIRELAY. <1> +</p> + +<p> +ALONE walking<br/> +In thought plaining,<br/> +And sore sighing;<br/> + All desolate,<br/> +Me rememb’ring<br/> +Of my living;<br/> +My death wishing<br/> + Both early and late. +</p> + +<p> +Infortunate<br/> +Is so my fate,<br/> +That, wot ye what?<br/> + Out of measure<br/> +My life I hate;<br/> +Thus desperate,<br/> +In such poor estate,<br/> + Do I endure. +</p> + +<p> +Of other cure<br/> +Am I not sure;<br/> +Thus to endure<br/> + Is hard, certain;<br/> +Such is my ure,* *destiny <2><br/> +I you ensure;<br/> +What creature<br/> + May have more pain? +</p> + +<p> +My truth so plain<br/> +Is taken in vain,<br/> +And great disdain<br/> + In remembrance;<br/> +Yet I full fain<br/> +Would me complain,<br/> +Me to abstain<br/> + From this penance. +</p> + +<p> +But, in substance,<br/> +None alleggeance* *alleviation<br/> +Of my grievance<br/> + Can I not find;<br/> +Right so my chance,<br/> +With displeasance,<br/> +Doth me advance;<br/> + And thus an end. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to Virelay +</p> + +<p> +1. (Transcriber’s note: Modern scholars believe that Chaucer +was not the author of this poem) +</p> + +<p> +2. Ure: “heur,” or destiny; the same word that enters into +“bonheur” and “malheur.” (French: happiness & unhappiness) +</p> + +<p> + “SINCE I FROM LOVE.” <1> +</p> + +<p> +SINCE I from Love escaped am so fat,<br/> +I ne’er think to be in his prison ta’en;<br/> +Since I am free, I count him not a bean. +</p> + +<p> +He may answer, and saye this and that;<br/> +I *do no force,* I speak right as I mean; *care not*<br/> +Since I from Love escaped am so fat. +</p> + +<p> +Love hath my name struck out of his slat,* *slate, list<br/> +And he is struck out of my bookes clean,<br/> +For ever more; there is none other mean;<br/> +Since I from Love escaped am so fat. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to “Since I from Love” +</p> + +<p> +1. (Transcriber’s note: Modern scholars believe that Chaucer +was not the author of this poem) +</p> + +<h3>CHAUCER’S WORDS TO HIS SCRIVENER.</h3> + +<p> +ADAM Scrivener, if ever it thee befall<br/> +Boece or Troilus for to write anew,<br/> +Under thy long locks thou may’st have the scall* *scab<br/> +But *after my making* thou write more true! *according to my<br/> +So oft a day I must thy work renew, composing*<br/> +It to correct, and eke to rub and scrape;<br/> +And all is through thy negligence and rape.* *haste +</p> + +<p> +CHAUCER’S PROPHECY. <1> +</p> + +<p> +WHEN priestes *failen in their saws,* *come short of their<br/> +And lordes turne Godde’s laws profession*<br/> + Against the right;<br/> +And lechery is holden as *privy solace,* *secret delight*<br/> +And robbery as free purchase,<br/> + Beware then of ill!<br/> +Then shall the Land of Albion<br/> +Turne to confusion,<br/> + As sometime it befell. +</p> + +<p> +Ora pro Anglia Sancta Maria, quod Thomas Cantuaria. <2> +</p> + +<p> +Sweet Jesus, heaven’s King,<br/> +Fair and best of all thing,<br/> +You bring us out of this mourning,<br/> +To come to thee at our ending! +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +Notes to Chaucer’s Prophecy. +</p> + +<p> +1. (Transcriber’s note: Modern scholars believe that Chaucer +was not the author of this poem) +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CANTERBURY TALES, AND OTHER POEMS ***</div> +<div style='text-align:left'> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ +concept and trademark. 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