Class_P&lM6_ 
 
 Book 'T S - 
 

 
THE 
 
 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 1—8. 
 
 Whanne that April with his shoiires sote^ 
 The droughts of March hath perced to the rotOj 
 And bathed every veine in swiche' licour, 
 Of whiche vertue engendred is the flonr ; 
 Whan Zephirus eke witli his sote brethe 
 Enspired hath in every holt^ and hethe 
 The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne 
 Hath in the Earn'* his halfe conrs yronne, 
 
 1 Sweet. 2 Such. 3 Grove. 
 
 * It seems to have been the intention of Chaucer, in the first lines oi 
 the Prologue, to mark \Aath some exactness the twie of his supposed 
 pilgrimage; but unluckily the two circumstances of his description, 
 •which were most likely to answer that purpose, are each of them irre- 
 concilable to the other. When he tells us that " the shoures of April 
 had perced to the rote the drought of March," we must suppose, in order 
 to allow due time for such an operation, that April was fur advanced; 
 while, on the other hand, the place of the sun, " having just run half his 
 course in the Earn," restrains us to some day in the very latter end of 
 March ; as the vernal equinox, in the age of Chaucer, according to his 
 own treatise on the Astrolabe, was computed to happen on the 12th of 
 March. This difficulty may, and I think should, be removed by reading 
 in ver. 8, tJie Bull, instead of the Ram. Ail the parts of the description 
 will then be consistent." — Tyrwhitt. 
 
 An ingenious writer (to whom we shall hereafter be frequently indebted), 
 in 'Notes and Queries, v. iii. p. 316, has opposed this conjecture, remarking, 
 that " there are no less than two ways of understanding the seventli and 
 eighth lines of the Prologue so as to be perfectly in accordance with the 
 rest of the description. One of these would be to suppose the sign Aries 
 divided into two portions (not necessarily equal in the phraseology of 
 the time), one of which would appertain to March and the other to 
 April; and that Cliaucer, by the 'halfe cours yronne,' meant the Imtt 
 or the April, half of the sign Aries. But I think a more probable sup- 
 
2 THE CANTEEBUHY TALES. 9-34'. 
 
 And smale foules^ maken melodie, 
 
 That slepen alle niglit witli open eye, 
 
 So priketh hem nature in hir corages 5 
 
 Than longen folk to gon on pilgrimageg, 
 
 And palmeres for to seken strange strondes, 
 
 To serve halwes couthe^ in sondry londes ; 
 
 And specially, from every shires ende 
 
 Of Engielond, to Canterbury they wende, 
 
 The holy blisful martyr for to seke, 
 
 That hem hath holjDen, whan that they were soke. 
 
 Befelle, that, in that seson on a day, ^ 
 In Southwerk at the Tabard^ as I lay, 
 Eedy to wenden on my pilgrimage 
 To Canterbury with devoute corage, 
 At night was come into that hostelrie 
 Wei nine and twenty in a compagnie 
 
 position still would be to imagine the month of April, of which Chaucei 
 was speaking, to be divided into two 'halfe cours,' in one of wliich the 
 sun would be in Ai-ies, and in the other in Taurus ; and that when 
 Chaucer says that 'the yonge sonne had in the Earn his halfe cours 
 yronne,' he meant that the Aries half of the month of April had been ran 
 through, thereby indicating, in general terms, some time approaching to 
 the middle of April." The same writer observes, that " the whole of the 
 opening of the Prologue, down to verse 19, is descriptive, not of any par- 
 ticular days, but of the usual season of pilgrimages ; and Chaucer himself 
 plainly declares, by the words ' in that season, on a day,' that the day is 
 as yet indefinite." See also. Hid., p. 515, and the note on v. 17,322. 
 1 Birds. 2 Known. 
 
 3 They who are disposed to believe the pilgrimage to have been real, 
 and to have happened in 13 S3, may support their opinion by the follow- 
 ing inscription, which is still to be read upon the inn, now called the 
 Talbot, in Southwark : " This is the Inn where Sir Jeffrey Chaucer and 
 the twenty-nine Pilgrims lodged in their journey to Canterbury, Anno 
 13S3." Though the present inscription is evidently of a very recent 
 date, we might suppose it to have been propagated to us by a succession 
 of faithful transcripts from the very time ; but unluckily there is too good 
 reason to be assured that the first inscription of this sort was not earlier 
 than the last century. Mr. Speght, who appears to have been inquisitive 
 concerning this inn in 1597, has left us this accoimtof it in his Glossary, 
 V. Tabard: " Ajaquet, or slevelesse coate, worne in times past by noble* 
 men in the warres, but now onely by heraults, and is called theyre coate 
 of armes in servise. It is the signe of an inne in Southwarke by London, 
 within the which was the lodging of the Abbot of Hyde by Winchester. 
 This is the hostelry where Chaucer and the other pilgrims mett together, 
 and, with Henry Baily their hoste, accorded about the manner of their 
 journey to Canterbury. And whereas through time it liath bin much 
 dccaied, it is now by Master J. Preston, with the abbot's house thereto 
 
44. THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 Of sondry folk, by aventure yfalle 
 In felawsliip, and pilgrimes were they alle. 
 That toward Canterbury wolden ride. 
 Tlie cliambres and the stables weren wide^ 
 And wel we weren esed^ atte beste. 
 
 And shortly, whan the sonne was gon to restej 
 So hadde I spoken with hem everich on/ 
 That I was of hir^ felawship anon, 
 And made forword erly for to rise, 
 To take cure way ther as I you devise. 
 
 But natholes, while I have time and space. 
 Or that I forther in this tale pace, 
 Me thinketh it accordant to reson, 
 To tellen you alle the condition 
 Of eche of hem, so as it semed me, 
 And wliiche they weren, and of what degre 5 
 And eke in what araie that they v^ere imie i 
 And at a knight than v/ol I firste beginne. 
 
 A knight^ ther was, and that a worthy maOj 
 That fro the time that he firste began 
 
 adjoyned, newly repaired, and with convenient roomes much cncreasefl, 
 for the receipt of many guests." 
 
 If any inscription of this kind had then been there, he -would hardly 
 have omitted to mention it; and therefore I am persuaded it has been 
 put up since his time, and most probably when the sign was changed, 
 from the Tabard to tlie Talbot, in order to preserve the ancient glory of 
 the house, notwithstanding its new title. Whoever furnished, the date, 
 must be allowed to have at least invented plausibly. 
 
 While I am upon the subject of this famous hostelry.f. will just add, 
 that it was pi-obably parcel of two tenements Avhich appear to have been 
 conveyed by William do Ludegarsale to the abbot, &c. de llydd juxta 
 Winton, in 130G, and which arc described, in a former conveyance there 
 recited, to extend in length, " a communi fossato de Suthwerke versus 
 Orientem, usque Regiam viam de Suthwerke versus Occidentem." — Kc- 
 gistrumde Hyde, MS. Harl. 1761. fol. 1G6 — 173. If we should ever be 
 so happy as to recover the account-books of the Abbey of Hyde, we may 
 possibly learn v^diat rent Harry Bailly paid for his inn, and many other 
 important particulars. — TynrJiitt. 
 
 1 Fallen. 2 Accommodated. 3 Every one of them. ^ Their. 
 
 ^ Why Chaucer sliould have chosen to bring his knight from Alex- 
 andria and Lettowe rather than from Cressy and Poitiers, is a problem 
 difficult to resolve, except by supposing that the shghtest services 
 against infidels were in those days more honourable than the laost 
 splendid victories over Clu'istians. — TynvhitL 
 
THE CANTERBUEY TALES. 45-72. 
 
 To riden out, lie loved chevalrie, 
 Troiithe and honour, fredom and curtesie. 
 Tul worthy was he in his lordes werre. 
 And therto hadde he ridden, no man ferre/ 
 As wel in Cristendom as in Hethenesse, 
 And ever honoured for his worthinesse. 
 
 At Alisandre he was whan it was wonne .^ 
 Ful often time he hadde the bord begonne^ 
 Aboven alle nations in Pruce. 
 In Lettowe hadde he reysed"* and in Euce, 
 No cristen man so ofte of his degre. 
 In Gernade-'' at the siege eke hadde he be 
 Of Algesir, and ridden in Belmarie.*^ 
 At Leyes^ was he, and at Satalie^, 
 "Whan they were wonne; and in the Grete soe.* 
 At many a noble armee hadde he be. 
 At mortal batailles hadde he ben fiftene, 
 And foughten for our faith at Tramissene 
 In listes thries, and ay slain his fo. 
 
 This ilke worthy knight hadde ben also 
 Somtime with the lord of Palatie/" 
 A gen another hethen in Turkie : 
 And evermore he hadde a sovereine pris. 
 And though that he was worthy he was wise, 
 And of his port as meke as is a mayde. 
 He never yet no vilanie ne sayde 
 In alle his lif, unto no manere" wight. 
 He was a veray parfit gentil knight. 
 
 Farther. So derre for clearer, v. 1450. 
 
 2 1, e.y in A.D. 1-365, by Pierre de Lusignan, King of Cyprus, who, how- 
 ever, immediately abandoned it. 
 
 '^ I. e., he had heen placed at the head of the fable ; the usual compliment 
 to extraordinary merit. When our military men wanted employment, 
 it was usual for them to go and serve in Pruse, or Prussia, with the 
 knights of the Teutonic order, who were in a state of constant warfare 
 with their heathen neighbours in Lettow (Lithuania), Ruse (Russia), and 
 elsewhere. A pagan King of Lettow is mentioned by Walsingham, pp. 
 ISO, 343. — Tyrwhitt. "* Journeyed. 
 
 5 The city of Algezir was taken from the Moorish King of Granada 
 in 1344. 6 Probably in Africa. 
 
 7 Layas, in Armenia. ^ Attalia. 
 
 9 Better, the " Grekish sea," i. e., the part of the Mediterranean, from 
 Sicily to Cyprus. See Tyrwhitt's notes. 
 
 10 Palathia, in Anatolia. ^^ Meaner, inferior. 
 
73-103. THE PROLOGUE. 5 
 
 But for to tellen you of his araie, 
 His hors was good, but he ne was not gaie. 
 Of fustian he wered a gipon/ 
 Alle besmotred- with his habergeon. 
 For he was late ycome fro his viage,^ ^ 
 And wente for to don his pilgrimage. 
 
 With him ther was his sone a yonge sqnier, 
 A lover, and a lusty bachelor, 
 With lockes crulP as they were laide in presse. 
 Of twenty yere of age he was I gesse. 
 Of his stature he was of even lengthe, 
 And wonderly deliver,^ and grete o£ strength©. 
 And he hadde be somtime in chevachie, 
 In Flaundres, in Artois, and in Picardie, 
 And borne him wel, as of so litel space. 
 In hope to stonden in his ladies grace. 
 
 Embrouded was he, as it were a mede 
 Alle ful of freshe iioures, white and rede. 
 Singing he was, or lloyting^ alle the day, 
 He was as freshe^, as is the moneth of May. 
 Short was his goune, with sieves long and wide. 
 Wel coude he sitte on hors, and fayre ride. 
 He coude songes make, and wel endite, 
 Juste and eke dance, and wel pourtraie and write. 
 So hote he loved, that by nightertale^ 
 He slep no more than doth the nightingale. 
 ■ Curteis he was, lowly, and servisable, 
 And carf before his fader at the table.'^ 
 
 A yeman'* hadde he, and servantes no mo 
 At that time, for him luste to ride so ; 
 
 S A short cassock. 2 Smutted. 3 Journey. * Curled. 
 
 5 Agile, nimble. ^ piaying on the flute. 7 Night time. 
 
 8 It was anciently the custom for squires, of the highest quality, to 
 carve at the sires' tables. 
 
 9 Yeinan, or yeoman, is an abbreviation of yeongeman, as youilie is of 
 yeongthe. Young men being most usually employed in service, servants 
 have, in many languages, been denominated from the single circum- 
 stance of age; as puer, gargon, boy, groom. As a title of service or 
 ofhce, yoman is used in the Stat. 37 E. III. c. 9 and 11, to denote a 
 servant of the next degree above a garson, or groom; and at this day, in 
 several departments of the royal household, the attendants are distri- 
 buted into three classes of serjeants or squiei^s, yeomen, and grooms. — 
 Tyrwhitt. 
 
O THE CAKTEHBURY TALES. 103-136, 
 
 And he was claclde in cote and liode of grene. 
 A sliefe of peacock arwes^ bright and kene 
 Under his belt he bare ful thriftily. 
 Wei conde he dresse his takeP yemanly: 
 His arwes dronped not with fetheres lowe. 
 And in his bond he bare a mighty bowe. 
 
 A not-hed^ hadde he, v/ith a broune visage. 
 Of wood-craft conde he wel alle the nsage. 
 Upon his arme he bare a gaie bracer, 
 And by his side a swerd and a bokeler, 
 And on that other side a gaie daggere, 
 Harneised wel, and sharpe as point of spore: 
 A Cristofre'' on his brest of silver shene. 
 An home he bare, the bandrik was of grene. 
 A forster was he sothely as I gesse. 
 
 There vfas also a Nonne, a Prioresse, 
 That of hire smiling was ful simple and coy 5 
 Hire gretest othe n'as but by Seint Eloy; 
 And she was clejoed madame Eglentine. 
 Ful wel she sange the service devine, 
 Entuned in hire nose ful swetely; 
 And Frenche she spake ful fayre and fetisly/ 
 ■ After the scole of Stratford atte bowe, 
 For Frenche of Paris° was to hire nnknowe. 
 At mete was she v/el ytaughte withalle ; 
 She lette no morsel from hire lippes falle, 
 Ne wette hire fingres in hire sauce depe. 
 Wel coude she carie a morsel, and wel kepe^ 
 Thatte no drope ne fell upon hire brest. 
 In curtesie was sette fid moche hire lest/ 
 Hire over lippe wiped she so clene. 
 That in hire cuj)pe was no ferthing sene 
 Of grese, whan she dronken hadde hire draught, 
 Ful semely after hire mete she raught. 
 
 1 Arrows with peacock feathers. " Arrow. 
 
 3 I. e. round, like a nut, probably from being cropped, 
 
 4 I do not see the meaning of this ornament. By tlic stat. 37 E. III. 
 yomen are forbidden to wear any ornaments of gold or silver. — Tynvhitt. 
 
 5 Neatly, cleverly. 
 
 c It has been mentioned before, that Chaucer thought but meanly of 
 the English-French spoken in his time. It was proper, however, that 
 the prioresse should speak some sort of French; not only as a woman 
 of fashion, a character which she is represented to affect, ver. 139, 140, 
 but as a religious person. — TynvJiitt. ^ Delight, pleasure. 
 
137-16S. THE PEOLOGUE. 7 
 
 And sikerly slie was of grete disport, 
 And fill plesant, and amiable of port, 
 And peined hire to contrefeten^ chere 
 Of court, and ben estatelich. of manere, 
 And to ben holden digne of reverence. 
 
 But for to speken of hire conscience, 
 She was so charitable and so pitons, 
 She wolde wepe if that she saw a nious 
 Canghte in a trappe, if it were ded or bledde. 
 Of smale houndes hadde she, that she fedde 
 "With rested flesh, and milk, and wastel bred 3. 
 But sore wept she if on of hem were dede, 
 Or if men smote it with a yerde- smert :^ 
 And all was conscience and tendre herte. 
 
 Ful semely hire wimple"* ypinched was ; 
 Hire nose tretis f hire eyen grey as gias ; 
 Hire mouth ful smale, and therto soft and red 5 
 But sikerly she hadde a fayre forehed. 
 It was almost a spanne brode I trowe ; 
 For hardily she was not undergrowe. 
 
 Full fetise*^ was hire cloke, as I was ware. 
 Of smale corall aboute hire arm she bare 
 A pair of bedes, gauded'' all with grene ; 
 And theron heng a broche of gold ful sliene, 
 On whiche was first ywriten a crouned A, 
 And after, Amo?' vincit omnia. 
 
 Another .N'onne also with hire hadde she,^ 
 That was hu^e chajpelleine, and Preestes thre. 
 
 A Monk ther was, a fayre^ for the maistrie, 
 An out-rider, that loved venerie ;^° 
 A manly man, to ben an abbot able. 
 Ful many a deinte hors hadde he in stable : 
 
 * She took great pains to assume. 2 ^ stick. 3 Hardly. 
 
 * A covering for the neck. ^ Long and well proportioned. 
 6 Neat, tasteful. 7 Decked. 
 
 8 This and the following line have been condemned by Tyrwhitt as 
 spurious. See his Discourse, p. 78. 
 
 9 AVe should say, a fair one ; but in Chaucer's time such tautology 
 was not, I suppose, elegant. So below, ver. 189 : 
 
 Therfore he was a prickasoure a right. 
 As to the phrase for the maistrie, I take it to be derived from t!ie 
 French potfT* la maistrie, which I find, in an old book of Physick, applied 
 to such medicines as we usually call Sovereign, excellent above all others. 
 MS. Bod. 761. Secreta h. Samp de Clowhurnel, fol. 17 b. Ciroigne bone 
 pur la maistrie a briser et a meurer apostemes, &c.—'Ti/rw7iitt. 
 10 Hunting. 
 
O THE CANTERBURY TALES. 169-1&2. 
 
 And whan he rode, men mighte his bridel here 
 Gingeling in a whistling wind as clere, 
 And eke as loude, as doth the chapell belle, 
 Ther as this lord was kejDer of the celle. 
 
 The renle of seint Manre and of seint Beneit^ 
 Because that it was olde and somdele streit. 
 This ilke monk lette olde thinges pace, 
 And held after the newe world the trace. 
 He yave not of the text a pulled hen/ 
 That saith, that hunters ben not holy men ; 
 Ne that a monk, whan he is rekkeles/ 
 Is like to a fish that is waterles ; 
 This is to say, a monk out of his cloistre. 
 This ilke text held he not worth an oistre. 
 And I say his opinion was good. 
 What shulde he studie, and make himselven wood, 
 Upon a book in cloistre alway to pore. 
 Or swinken with his hondes, and laboure. 
 As Austin bit ?^ how shal the world be served? 
 Let Austin have his swink'^ to him reserved. 
 Therfore he was a prickasoure'' a right : 
 Greihoundes he haclde as swift as f oid of flight i 
 Of pricking and of hunting for the hare 
 "Was all his lust, for no cost wolde he spare. 
 
 1 1, e., he cared not a straw. One MS. reads a jmllet hQn, which seems 
 more intelligible, unless it refer to the supposition that a plucked lien 
 cannot lay eggs. — TynvMtt, gl. 
 
 2 Rekkeles. MS. C. reads Cloisterlesj to which the only ohjection is, 
 that if it had been the true reading there would have been no occasion 
 to explain or paraphrase it in ver. 181. The text alluded to is attributed 
 by Gratian, Secret. P. ii. Cau. xvi. Q. i. c. viii. to a Pope Eiigenius. — 
 Sicut piscis sine aqua caret vita, ita sine monasterio monacJnts. In P. P., 
 according to MS. Cotton. Vesp. B. xvi. (for the passage is omitted in the 
 printed editions), a similar saying is quoted from Gregory. 
 
 Gregori the grete clerk garte write in bokcs 
 The rewle of alle religioun riytful and obedient 
 Eiyt as fishes in a fiod whan hem faileth v>-atcy 
 Deien for drowthe whan thei drie liggen 
 Eiyt so religious roten and sterven 
 That out of covent or cloistre coveiten to dwelle. 
 
 As the known senses of relcJ^eles, viz., careless, negligent, by no means 
 suit with this passage, I am inclined to suspect that Chaucer possibly 
 wrote reglielles, i. e., v/ithout rule. Begol, from Regula, was the Saxon 
 word for a rule, and particularly for a vwnastic rule. — Tyrwhitt. 
 
 3 Biddeth. ^ Labour. 
 
 6 A hard rider, from ^jncX;, to spur on a horse. 
 
193-230. THE PEOLOGUE. S> 
 
 I saw liis sieves piTrfilecI at the liond 
 "With gris,^ and that the finest of the lond. 
 And for to fasten his hood nnder his chinne,. 
 He hadde of gold ywronght a curious pinne ; 
 A love-knotte in the greter end ther was. 
 His hed was balled^ and shone as any glas, 
 And eke his face, as it hadde ben anoint. 
 He was a lord ful fat and in good point. 
 His eyen stepe," and rolling in his hed. 
 That stemed as a forneis of a led. 
 His botes sonple, his hors in gret estat, 
 Now certainly he was a fayre prelat. 
 He was not pale as a forpined^ gost. 
 A fat swan loved he best of any rost. 
 His palfrey was as broune as is a bery. 
 
 A Frere ther was, a wanton and a mery^ 
 A Limitonr,"* a ful solempne man. 
 In all the ordres foure is non that can 
 So moche of daliance and fayre langage. 
 He hadde ymade ful many a mariage 
 Of yonge wimmen, at his owen cost. 
 Until his ordre he was a noble post.| 
 Fal wel beloved, and familier was he 
 With frankeleins^ over all in his contree. 
 And eke with worthy wimmen of the toun; 
 For he had power of confession, 
 As saide himselfe, more than a curat. 
 For of his ordre he was licenciat. ' 
 Ful swetely herde he confession, 
 And plesant was his absolution. 
 He was an esy man to give penance, 
 Ther as he wiste to han a good pitanco s 
 For unto a poure ordre for to give 
 Is signe that a man is wel yshrive. 
 For if he gave, he dorste make avant,® 
 He wiste that a man was repentant. 
 ' For many a man so hard is of his herte, 
 
 He may not wepe although him sore smerte, 
 
 ' The habit of wearing fur triramiugs was forhidden the monks by 
 Cardinal "SYolsey, in 1519. 
 
 2 Sunk deep in his Iiead. 3 •\Yasted, tormented. 
 
 ^ I. e., one licensed to beg within a certain district. 
 
 * Wealthy landholders ; country gentlemen of good estate. ^ Boast. 
 
10 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 231-2684 
 
 Therfore in stede of weping and praieres, 
 Men mote give silver to tlie poure freres. 
 
 His tij)pet was ay farsed^ ful of knives, 
 And piunes, for to given fayre wives. 
 And certainly he hadde a mery note. 
 Wei coiide lie singe and plaien on a rote.^ 
 Of yeddinges^ lie bare utterly tlie jDris. 
 His nekke was white as the flour de lis, 
 Therto he strong was as a cliampioun, 
 And knew wel the tavernes in every touia. 
 And every hosteler and gay tapstere. 
 Better than a lazar or a beggere, 
 For unto swiche a worthy man as he 
 Accordeth nought, as by his faculte, 
 To haven with sike lazars acquaintance. 
 It is not honest, it may not avance, 
 As for to delen with no swiche pouraille,^ 
 But all with riche, and sellers of vitaille. 
 
 And over all, tlier as profit shuld arise, 
 Curteis he was, and lowly of servise. 
 Ther n'as no man iiowher so vertuous. 
 He was the beste begger in all his hous : 
 And gave a certaine ferme for the grant, 
 Non of his bretheren came in his haunt. 
 For though a widewe hadde but a shoo, 
 (So plesant was his In principiof 
 Yet wold he have a ferthing or he went. 
 His pourchas was wel better than his rent. 
 And rage he coude as it hadde ben a whelp. 
 In lovedayes,^ ther coude he mochel help. 
 For ther was he nat like a cloisterere, 
 "With thredbare cope, as is a poure scolere^ 
 But he was like a maister or a pope. 
 Of double worsted was his semicope. 
 That round was as a belle out of the press8. 
 Somwhat he lisped for his wantonnesse, 
 To make his English swete upon his tonge ; 
 And in his harping, whan that he hadde songe, 
 
 1 Stuffed, 2 By rote, by heart. 3 a kind of song. 
 
 * /. e., commonalty, poor people. 
 
 ^ The beginnhig of the Latin text either of Genesis or of St. John's 
 Gospel. 
 
 ^ Days appointed for the amicable settlement or arbitration of dif- 
 fcrenoas- 
 
269-298. THE PROLOGUE. 11 
 
 His eyen twinkeled in his lied ariglit. 
 As don the sterres in a frosty night. 
 This worthy limitour was cleped Huberd. 
 
 A Marchant was ther with a forked herd. 
 In mottelee/ and highe on hors he sat, 
 And on his hed a Flanndrish bever hat. 
 His botes elapsed fayre and fetisly. 
 His resons s^Dake he ful solempnely, 
 Souning-' alway the encrese of his winning. 
 He wold the see were kept^ for anything 
 Betwixen Middelbnrgh and Orewell.'* 
 Wei coud he in eschanges sheldes^ selle. 
 This worthy man ful wel his wit besette ; 
 Ther wiste no wight that he was in dette, 
 So stedefastly didde he his governance, 
 With his bargeines, and with his chevisance.* 
 "Forsothe he was a worthy man withalle, 
 JBut soth to sayn, I n'ot how men him calls. 
 
 A Clerk ther was of Oxenforde also. 
 That unto logike hadde long ygo. 
 As lene was his hors as is a rake. 
 And he was not right fat, I undertake ; 
 But loked holwe, and therto soberly. 
 Ful thredbare was Ms overest courtepy,^ 
 For he hadde geten him yet no benefice, 
 Ne was nought worldly to have an office. 
 For him was lever han^ at his beedes hed 
 A twenty bokes, clothed in black or red; 
 Of Aristotle, and his philosophie, 
 Than robes riche, or fidel, or sautrie.^ 
 
 1 Mixed, Tarious colours, motley. 2 goundlngr 
 
 3 Guarded. The old subsidy of tonnage and poundage -was given to 
 
 tbe king^wr la saiif garde et custodie del mer, 12 E. IV. s. S.-^Tt/riv/iitt. 
 
 4 A seaport in Essex. 
 
 5 French crowns, so called from their having a shield stamped on one 
 side. "j An arrangement for borrowing money. 
 
 7 A sort of short upper cloak. s j, ^.^ he had rather, he preferred. 
 
 9 Psaltery. It may be observed, that although organ-builders have 
 introduced reed stops, purporting to represent the sacbut, clarion, 
 psaltery, shalm, and other instruments mentioned in Scripture, we are 
 totally ignorant what they were. The psaltery was probalsly a stringed 
 instrument, and perhaps the same as the "rote" spoken of elsewhere. 
 2 
 
12 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 293-338. 
 
 But all be that he was a philosojDlire, 
 Yet hadde he but litel gold in cofre, 
 But all that he might of his frendes hente,* 
 On bokes and on lerning he it spente, 
 And besily gan for the soules praie 
 Of hem, that yave him wherwith to scolaie.' 
 Oi studie toke he moste cure and hede. 
 Not a word spake he more than was nede ; 
 And that was said in forme and reverence, 
 And short and quike, and ful of high sentence. 
 Souning in moral vertue was his speche, 
 And gladly wolde he lerne, and gladly tcche. 
 
 A sergeant of the lawe ware and wise. 
 That often hadde yben at the paruis, 
 Ther was also, ful riche of excellence. 
 Discrete he was, and of gret reverence : 
 He semed swiche,^ his wordes were so wise^ 
 Justice he was ful often in assise, 
 By patent, and by pleine commissioun ; 
 For his science, and for his high renoun, 
 Of fees and robes had he many on. 
 So grete a pourchasour was nowher non. 
 All was fee simple to him in effect, 
 His pourchasing might not ben in suspect, 
 Nowher so besy a man as he ther n'as, 
 And yet he semed besier than he was. 
 In termes hadde he cas and domes'' alle, 
 That fro the time of king Will, weren falle, 
 Therto he coude endite, and make a thing, 
 Ther coude no wight pinche at his writing. 
 And every statute coude he plaine by rote. 
 He rode but homely in a medlee cote, 
 Girt with a seint of silk, with barres' smale 5 
 Of his array tell I no longer tale. 
 
 A frankelein was in this compagnie ; 
 White was his berd, as is the dayesie. 
 Of his complexion he was sanguin. 
 Wei loved he by the morwe^ a sop in win. 
 To liven in delit was ever his wone, 
 "For he was Epicures owen sone, 
 
 Get. 2 To attend school. 3 Such. 
 
 Opinions. ^ stripes. ^ Morning. 
 
839-362. THE PEOLOGUE, 13 
 
 That held opinion, that plein delit 
 
 Was veraily felicite parfite. 
 
 An housholder, and that a grete^ was he 5 
 
 Seint Julian" he was in his contree^ 
 
 His brede, his ale, was alway after on -p 
 
 A better envyned^ man was no wher non. 
 
 Withouten bake mete never was his hoiis, 
 
 Of fish and flesh, and that so plenteous, 
 
 It snewed in his hons of mete and drinke, 
 
 Of alle deintees that men cond of thinke, 
 
 After the sondry sesons of the yere, 
 
 So changed he his mete and his soupere. 
 
 Ful many a fat partrich hadde he in me we, 
 
 And many a breme, and many a luce' in stewe. 
 
 Wo was his coke, but if^ his sauce were 
 
 Poinant and sharpe, and redy all his gero. 
 
 His table dormant in his halle alway 
 
 Stode redy covered alle the longe day. 
 
 At sessions ther was he lord and sire. 
 Ful often time he was knight of the shire* 
 An anelace" and a gipciere^ all of silk, 
 Heng at his girdel, white as morwe'' milk. 
 A shereve hadde he ben, and a countour.^'-^ 
 Was no wher swiche a worthy vavasour." 
 
 * /. <?., a great one. 
 
 2 St. Julian was eminent for providing his votaries with good loclginga 
 and accommodation of all sorts. In the title of his Legende, MS. Bod. 
 1536, fol. 4, he is called " St. Julian, the gode herberjoui-." It ends tUus : 
 
 Therfore yet to this day thei that over lond wende, 
 
 Thei biddeth Seint Julian anon that gode herborw he hem sende. 
 
 And Seint Julianes Pater noster ofte seggeth also. 
 
 For his fader soule and his moderes, that he hem bring therto. 
 
 TpnrMlL 
 6t, Julian was a patron of pilgrims, and also of lenones. See Brand's 
 Antiquities, v. i. p. 359, of Sir Henry Ellis's edition. 
 
 3 One o'clock. ■* Better stocked with wine. ^ Pike, 
 ^ I. e. if it were'not. 
 
 7 A kind of knife or dagger, usually worn at the waist. 
 
 s A purse. 9 Morning. 
 
 ^0 This word has been changed in Ed, Urr., upon what authority I 
 know not, to Coroner. The MSS. all read Cotmtoitr, or comptour. At 
 the same time it is not easy to say what office is meant. I have a notion, 
 that the foreman of the inquest in the Hundred-court was called a 
 Coimtour; but the law glossaries do not take notice of any such sense 
 of the word.— Tynvhitt. 
 
 11 A kind of middle-class landholder. See TynvldtL 
 
14 THE CANTERBURY TALES* 363-386. 
 
 All liaberdaslier, and a carpenter, 
 A webbe,^ a deyer, and a tapiser,^ 
 Were alle yclothed in o livere, 
 Of a solempne and grete fraternite.^ 
 Ful freslie and newe hir gere ypiked -was. 
 Hir knives were ycbaped not with bras, 
 But all with silver wrought ful clene and v/cl, 
 Hir girdeles and hir pouches every del\ 
 Wei semed eche of hem a fayre burgeis. 
 To sitten in a gild halle, on the deis.^ 
 Everich/ for the wisdom that he can, 
 Was shapelich for to ben an alderman. 
 Tor catel hadden they ynough and rent, 
 And eke hir v/ives wolde it wel assent: 
 And elles'' certainly they were to blame. 
 It is ful fayre to ben ycleped madame, 
 And for to gon to vigiles all before, 
 And have a mantel reallich^ ybore. 
 
 A coke they hadden with hem for the nones,* 
 To boile the chikenes and the marie bones, 
 And poudre marchant, tart and galingale,"'° 
 Wel coude he knowe a draught of London ale. 
 He coude roste, and sethe, and broile, and frie, 
 Maken mortrewes," and Vv^el bake a pie. 
 
 1 A weaver. 2 a tapestry-worker. 
 
 3 An evident reference to the guilds of the middle ages. The epithet 
 "solempne" probably refers to the initiation into a species of free- 
 masonry, which was bestowed upon the licensed workers in a particular 
 department. Compare Palgrave's "Merchant and Fryar," ch. iii. 
 4 Every bit. ^ Dais. 
 
 •5 Each one of them. 7 Otherwise. 
 
 8 Eoyally. ^ The nonce, the occasion, 
 
 W "What kind of ingredient this was I cannot tell. Cotgrave mentions 
 a Pouldre blanche and a Fouldre de due, which seem both to have been 
 used in cookery. I must take notice, that the epithet tart, in most of 
 the MS., is annexed to poudre marclmnt, and I rather wish I had left it 
 there, as, for anything that I know, it may suit that as well as Galingale. 
 
 Tyrwhitt. 
 
 " Lord Bacon, in his Nat. Hist. i. 48, speaks of" a mortress made with 
 the brawn of c&^on.?. stamped and strained." He joins it with the cullice 
 {coulis) of cocks. It seems to have been a rich broth, or soupe, in the 
 preparation of which the flesh was stamped, or beat, in a mortar ; from 
 %vhence it probably derived its name, une mort reuse ; though I cannot say 
 that I have ever met with the Freucli word. — Tyrivhitt, 
 
887-424. THE PKOLOGUE. 15 
 
 But gret liarm was it, as it tliouglite me, 
 That on his shinne a mormaP hackle he. 
 For blanc mangei" that made he with the best, 
 
 A shipman was ther, woned fer by "West : 
 
 For ought I wote, he was of Dertemouth. 
 
 He rode upon a rouncie,^ as he coiithe, 
 
 All in a gonne of falding to the knee. 
 
 A dagger hanging by a las hadde hee 
 
 About his nekke under his arm adoun. 
 
 The hote sommer hadde made his hewe al bronn. 
 
 And certainly he was a good felaw. 
 
 Ful many a draught of win he hadde draw 
 
 From Burdeux ward, while that the chapman slepe. 
 
 Of nice conscience toke he no kepe. 
 
 If that he faught, and hadde the higher hand, 
 
 By water he sent hem home to every land. 
 
 But of his craft to reken wel his tides, 
 
 His stremes and his strandes him besides. 
 
 His herberwe,'' his mone, and his lodemanage,^ 
 
 Ther was non swiche, from Hull unto Cartage. 
 
 Hardy he was, and wise, I imdertake : 
 
 "With many a tempest hadde his berd be shake.- 
 
 He knew wel alle the havens, as they were. 
 
 Fro Gotland, to the Cape de finistere, 
 
 And every creke in Bretagne and in Spaine. 
 
 His barge ycleped was the Magdelaine. 
 
 "With us ther was a doctour of phisike, 
 In all this world ne was ther non him like 
 To speke of phisike, and of surgerie : 
 For he was grounded in astronomie. 
 He kept his patient a ful gret del 
 In houres by his magike naturel. 
 "Wel coude he fortunen the ascendent] 
 Of his images for his patient. 
 
 He knew the cause of every maladie, 
 Were it of cold, or hote, or moist, or drie. 
 And wher engendred, and of what humou;. 
 He was a veray parfite practisour. 
 
 1 A gangrene. 
 2 Different from our evening party composition. One of the Ingre- 
 dients is described as " the brawne of a capon, tesed small." — Tyrwldtt, gl 
 2 A common hack. ^ xhe place of the sun. 5 j»j]otship. 
 
16 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 425-462. 
 
 Tlie cause yknowe, and of his harm tlie rote, 
 
 Anon he gave to the sike man his bote.^ 
 
 Ful redy hadde he his apothecaries 
 
 To send him dragges, and his lettuaries,^ 
 
 For eche of hem made otlier for to winne: 
 
 Hir friendship n'as not newe to Ibeginne. 
 
 Wei knew he the old Esculapiiis, 
 
 And Dioscorides, and eke Rufus ; 
 
 Old Hippo eras, Hali,*" and Gallien; 
 
 Serapion, Rasis, and i^vicen; 
 
 Averrois, Damascene, and Constantino 
 
 Bernard, and Gatisden, and Gilbertin. 
 
 Of his diete mesurable was he, 
 
 "Fov it was of no superfluitee, 
 
 Eut of gret nourishing, and digestible. 
 
 His studie was but litel on the Bible. 
 
 In sanguin and in perse^ he clad was alle 
 
 Lined with taffata, and with sendalle.^ 
 
 And yet he was but esy of dispence : 
 
 He kej^te that he wan in the pestilence. 
 
 For gold in phisike is a cordial ; 
 
 Therfore he loved gold in special. 
 
 A good wif was ther of beside Bathe, 
 But she was som deP defe, and that was scathe. 
 Of cloth making she hadde swiche an haunt,^ 
 She passed hem of Ipres, and of Gaunt. 
 In all the parish wif ne was ther non, 
 That to the offring^ before hire shulde gon, 
 And if ther did, certain so wroth was she. 
 That she was out of alle charitee. 
 Hire coverchiefs weren ful fine of gTOund ; 
 I dorste swere, they weyeden a pound ; 
 That on the Sonday were upon hire hede. 
 Hire hosen weren of fine scarlet rede, 
 Ful streite yteyed, and shoon ful moist^ and newe. 
 Bold was hire face, and fayre and rede of hew. 
 She was a worthy woman all hire live, 
 Housbondes at the chirche dore had she had five, 
 
 •1 Remedy. 2 Electuaries. 
 
 3 An Arabian physician, "* Sky-coloured, blue. 
 
 5 A kind of thin silk. 6 a little. 
 
 7 Practice, custom. 8 Ti^e offertory at mass. 
 
 ' Fresh. — See TyrwhitL 
 
4;G3-50S. THE. PROLOGUE. 17 
 
 Witlionten otlier compagnie in youthe. 
 But therof nedeth not to speke as noutlie.* 
 And thries hadde she ben at Jerusalenie, 
 She hadde passed many a strange streme. 
 At Eome she hadde ben, and at Boloine, 
 In Galice at Semt James, and at Coloine. 
 She coude moche of wandring by the way. 
 Gat-tothed- was she, sothly for to say. 
 Upon an ambler esily she sat, 
 Ywim]3led wel, and on hire hede an hat. 
 As brode as is a bokeler, or a targe. 
 A fote-mantel about hire hippes large, 
 And on hire fete a pair of sporres sharpe. 
 In felawship wel coude she laughe and carpe 
 Of remedies of love she knew parchance, 
 For of that arte she coude^ the olde dance. 
 
 A good man ther was of religioun. 
 That was a poure persone^ of a toun: 
 But riche he was of holy thought and werls. 
 He was also a lerned m.an, a clerk. 
 That Cristes gospel trev-rely wolde preche. 
 His parishens devoutly wolde he teche. 
 Benigne he was, and wonder diligent, 
 And in adversite ful patient: 
 And swiche he was ypreved often sithes. 
 Ful loth were him to cursen for his tithes. 
 But rather wolde he yeven oiit of doute, 
 Unto his poure parishens aboute. 
 Of his offring, and eke of his substance. 
 He coude in litel thing have suffisance. 
 Wide was his parish, and houses fer asondar. 
 But he ne left nought for no rain ne thonder, 
 In sikenesse and in mischief to visite 
 The ferrest in his parish, moche and lite,^ 
 Upon his fete, and in his hand a staf. 
 This noble ensample to his shepe he yaf. 
 That first he wrought, and afterward he taught^ 
 Out of the gospel he the wordes caught, 
 And this figure he added yet therto. 
 That if gold ruste, what shuld iren do 2 
 
 1 Now. 
 . ' Tyrwhitt confesses himself unable to explain tliis strange expression. 
 3 Knew. 4 Parson, rector. 5 High and low. 
 
18 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 503-54a 
 
 For if a preest be foule, on whom we trust, 
 No wonder is a lewecl man to rust : 
 And shame it is, if that a preest take kepe. 
 To see a shitten shepherd, and clene shepe : 
 Wei ought a preest ensample for to yeve, 
 By his clenenesse, how his shepe shulde live. 
 
 He sette not his benefice to hire, 
 And lette his shepe acombred in the mire. 
 And ran unto London, unto Seint Poules, 
 To seken him a chanterie^ for soules. 
 Or with a brotherhede to be withold : 
 But dwelt at home, and kepte wel his fold. 
 So that the wolf ne made it not miscarie. 
 He was a shepherd, and no mercenarie.^ 
 And though he holy were, and vertuous. 
 He was to sinful men not dispitous, 
 Ne of his speche dangerous ne digne,^ 
 But in his teching discrete and benigne. 
 To drawen folk to heven, with fairenesse, 
 By good ensample, was his besinesse : 
 But it were any persone obstinat. 
 What so he were of highe, or low estat, 
 Him wolde he snibben sharply for the nones.^ 
 A better preest I trowe that nowher non is. 
 He waited after no pompe ne reverence, 
 Ne maked him no spiced conscience,^ 
 But Cristes lore, and his apostles twelve, 
 He taught, but first he folwed it himselve. 
 
 With him ther was a jplowman, was his broth erj, 
 That hadde ylaid of dong ful many a fother. 
 A trewe s winker,^ and a good was he, 
 Living in pees, and parfite charitee. 
 God loved he beste with alle his herte 
 At alle times, were it gain or smerte. 
 And than his neighebour right as himselve. 
 He wolde thresh, and therto dike, and delve. 
 For Cristes sake, for every poure wight, 
 Withouten hire, if it lay in his might. 
 
 1 Thirty-five of these chantries were established at St. Paul's, being 
 served by fifty-four priests. — Dugdale, Hist. pref. p, 41.' — Tyrwhitt, gl. 
 
 2 An obvious allusion to John, x, 12, 13. 
 
 3 Proud, ■* Occasion. 
 
 5 Probably meaning, that he did not care to flavour his lectures with 
 obliging phrases, to make them palatable. In verse 6017 it appears 
 to be used in a difierent sense. ^ Labourer. 
 
-568* THE PEOLOGUE. 19 
 
 His tithes paied lie fal fayre and "wel 
 Both of his propre swinke, and his catel. 
 In a tabard^ he rode upon a mere. 
 
 Ther was also a reve/ and a mill ere, 
 A sompnour,^ and a pardoner also, 
 A manciple/ and myselfj ther n'ere no nio. 
 
 The miller was a stont carle for the nones, 
 Ful bigge he was of brann, and eke of bones j 
 That proved wel, for over all ther he came. 
 At wrastling he wold here away the ram. 
 He was short shnldered brode, a thikke gnarre,^ 
 Ther n'as no dore, that he n'olde heve of barre, 
 Or breke it at a renning with his hede. 
 His berd as any sowe or fox was rede. 
 And therto brode, as thongh it were a spade. 
 Upon the cop^ right of his nose he hade 
 A wert, and ther on stode a tufte of heres, 
 Bede as the bristles of a sowes eres. 
 His nose-thirles blacke were and wide. 
 A swerd and bokeler bare he by his side. 
 His month as wide was as a forneis. 
 He was a jangler,' and a goliardeis/ 
 And that was most of sinne, and harlotries. 
 "Wel conde he stelen corne, and tollen thriea. 
 And yet he had a thomb^ of gold parde. 
 A white cote and a blew hode wered he. 
 A bagge23ij)e vv^el conde he blowe and soune, 
 And therwithall he bronght us out of tonne. 
 
 * See above, on verse 20. ^ Steward. 
 
 ^ An oiB-cer appointed to summon delinquents to appear in ecclesiastical 
 courts, now called an apparitor. 
 
 4 One who has the office of purchasing provisions for a college, or inn 
 of court 
 
 5 A hard knot in a tree, 6 Top. 7 A prater, babbler. 
 
 8 Un goliardois, Fr. ; GoUardus, or Goliardensis, Lat. This jovial sect 
 •seems to have been so called from Golias, the real or assumed name of a 
 man of wit, towards the end of the xiitli century, who wrote the Apica- 
 Jypsis Golice, and other pieces in burlesque Latin rimes, some of wliich 
 have been falsely attributed to Walter Map. See Tanner's BibL Brit. 
 in V. Golias, and Du Cange in v. Goliardus. — Tyrwhitt. 
 
 9 If the allusion be, as is most probable, to the old proverb. Every 
 honest Miller has a thumh of gold, this passage may mean that our 
 miller, notwithstanding his thefts, was an honest miller, i. e. as honest as 
 ills brethren. — TyrwMtt. 
 
20 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 5G0-( 
 
 A gentil manciple was tlier of a temj)le, 
 Of which achatours^ mighten take ensemple 
 For to ben wise in bying of vitaille. 
 For whether that he paide^ or toke by taille^ 
 Algate he waited so in his achate, 
 That he was ay before in good estate. 
 Now is not that of God a ful fayre grace, 
 That swiche a lowed mannes wit shal pace 
 The wisdom of an hepe of lered men ? 
 
 Of maisters had he mo than thries ten. 
 That were of lawe exj^ert and curious : 
 Of which ther was a dosein in that hous, 
 "Worthy to ben stewardes of rent and lond 
 Of any lord that is in Englelond, 
 To maken him live by his propre good, 
 In honour detteles,^ but if he were wood, 
 Or live as scarsly, as him list desire ; 
 And able for to helpen all a shire 
 In any cas that mighte fallen or happe ; 
 And yet this manciple sette hir aller cappe.^ 
 
 The reve was a slendre colerike man. 
 His berd was shave as neighe as ever he can« 
 His here was by his eres round yshorne. 
 His toj) was docked like a preest beforne. 
 Ful longe were his legges, and ful lene, 
 Ylike a staff, ther was no calf ysene, 
 Wei coude he kepe a garner and a binne : 
 Ther was non auditour coude on him winne." 
 Wei wiste he by the drought, and by the rain. 
 The yelding of his seed, and of his grain. 
 His lordes shepe, his nete, r,ad his deirie, 
 His swine, his hors, his store, and his pultrie, 
 Were holly in this reves governing, 
 And by his covenant yave he rekening. 
 Sin that his lord was twenty yere of age ; 
 Ther coude no man bring him in arerage. 
 Ther n'as baillif, ne herde, ne other hine, 
 That he ne knew his sleight and his covine :* 
 They were adradde of him, as of the deth. 
 His wonning was ful fayre upon an heth, 
 
 1 Buyers. 2 pree from debt. 
 
 5 Set all their caps, i. e. made fools of them. See verse 3145. 
 4 Secret contrivances. 
 
609*640. THE PROLOGUE. 21 
 
 With grene trees ysliadewed was his place. 
 He coude better than his lord pourchace 
 Ful riche he was ystored privily. 
 His lord "wel coude he plesen subtilly, 
 To yeve and lene^ him of his owen good, 
 And have a thank^ and yet a cote and hood. 
 In yoiithe he lerned hadde a good mistere. 
 He was a wel good wright, a carpentere. 
 This reve sate upon a right good stot,^ 
 That was all pomelee^ gi'ejj, and highte Scot. 
 A long surcote of perse^ upon .he hade, 
 And by his side he bare a rusty blade. 
 Of Norfolk was this reve, of which I tell, 
 Beside a toun, men clej)en Baldeswell. 
 Tucked he was, as is a frere, aboute, 
 And ever he rode the hinderest of the route. 
 
 A sompnour was ther with us in that place, 
 That hadde a fire-red cherubinnes face, 
 For sausefleme-^ he was, with eyen narwe. 
 As hote he was, and likerou.s as a sparwe, 
 With scalled browes blake, and pilled herd: 
 Of his visage children were sore aferd. 
 Ther n'as quiksilver, litarge, ne brimston, 
 Boras, ceruse, ne oile of tartre non, 
 Ne oinement that wolde dense or bite. 
 That him might helpen of his whelkes white, 
 Ne of the knobbes sitting on his cliekes, 
 Wel loved he garlike, onions, and lekes. 
 And for to drinke strong win as rede as blood. 
 Than wolde he speke, and ciie as he were wood. 
 And whan that he wel dronken had the win, 
 Than wold he speken no word but Latin. 
 
 1 Lend. 2 ± stallion. 3 Dappled. ■* Blue. 
 
 5 I find this word in an old Fr. book of Physick, which I have quoted 
 before in n. on ver. 165. " Oignement magistrel j»?«/" scmsefleme et pur 
 chescune manere de roigner — Roigne signifies any scorbutic eruption. So 
 in the Thousand notable things, B. 1. 70. " A saivsjleame or red pimpled 
 face is helped with this medicine following." — Two of the ingredients are 
 quicksilver and brimstone. In another i)lace, B. ii. 20, Oyle of Tartar is 
 said to take away cleane all spots, freckles, and filthy wheales." These 
 last, I suppose, are what Chaucer calls whelkes. The original of the word 
 seems to be pointed out in the following passage. Vit. R. ii. a Men. 
 Evesh. p. 169, " facies alba — interdum sanguinis flownate viciata, — 
 Tijrwhitt. 
 
22 THE CANTERBUEY TALES. 641-673. 
 
 A fewe termes coude lie, two or three, 
 That he had lerned out of som decree ; 
 No wonder is, he herd it all the day. 
 And eke ye knowen wel, how that a jay 
 Can clepen watte, as wel as can the pope. 
 But who so wolde in other thing him grope. 
 Than hadde he spent all his philosophie, 
 Ay, Questio quidjuris^ wolde he crie. 
 
 He was a gentil harlot and a kind ; 
 A better felaw shulde a man not find. 
 He wolde suffre for a quart of wine, 
 A good felaw to have his concubine 
 A twelve month, and excuse him at the fuIL 
 Ful prively a finch eke coude he puU.^ 
 And if he found owhere a good felawe, 
 He wolde techen him to have non awe 
 In swiche a cas of the archedekenes curse ; 
 But if a mannes soule were in his purse ; 
 For in his purse he shulde ypunished be. 
 Purse is the archedekens helie, said he. 
 But wel I wote, he lied right in dede : 
 Of cursing ought eche gilty man him drede. 
 For curse wol sle^ right as assoiling^ savetl^ 
 And also ware him of a significavit} 
 
 In danger^ hadde he at his owen gise 
 The yonge girles"^ of the diocise, 
 And knew hir conseil, and was of hir rede. 
 A gerlond hadde he sette upon his hede, 
 As gret as it were for an alestake :^ 
 A bokeler hadde he made him of a cake. 
 
 With him ther rode a gentil Pardonere^ 
 Of Eouncevall, his frend and his compere,^* 
 
 ^ A customary question in old law-Avritings, after the statement of a case. 
 2 " I. e. pluck a pigeon," as we should say. ^ Slay. '^ Absolution. 
 5 I. e. of a ^Yrit de exconunimicate cajnendo, which usually began, Signi- 
 ■ficavit nobis venerabilis pater, &c., 
 
 6 Within the reach or control of his office. 
 7 This word is applied to botli sexes in Cliaucer, and therefore may 
 mean the young men as well as the young women. 
 
 8 A sign-post in front of an ale-house. 
 ^ A seller of indulgences. See below, on verse 710' 
 w I can hardly think that Chaucer meant to bring his Pardoner from 
 Uoncevaux in Navarre, and yet I cannot find anyplace of that name in 
 England. An Hospital Beat. Marie de Rouncyvalle in Ckaritig, London, 
 is mentioned in the Monast. t. ii. 443, and there was a Runceval Hall in 
 Oxford. So that perhaps it was the name of some fraternity. — Tyrwhitt. 
 
673-70S. THE PEOLOGUE. 23 
 
 That streit was comen from the court of Eome. 
 Full loude he sang, " Come hither, love, to me."* 
 This sompnour bare to him a stiff burcloun, 
 Was never trompe of half so great a soun. 
 This pardoner had here^ as yelwe as wax, 
 But smoth it heng, as doth a strike of flax : 
 By unces heng his loklces that he hadde, 
 And therwith he his shulders overspradde, 
 Ful thinne it lay, by culpons^ on and on, 
 But hode, for jolite, ne wered he non, 
 For it was trussed up in his wallet.] 
 Him thought he rode al of the newe get,* 
 Dishevele, sauf his cappe, he rode all bare, 
 Swiche glaring eyen hadde he, as an hare. 
 A vernicle' hadde he sewed upon his cappe. 
 His wallet lay beforne him in his lappe, 
 Bret-fal of pardon come from Rome al hote. 
 A vols he hadde, as smale as hath a gote. 
 No berde hadde he, ne never non shulde have, 
 As smothe it was as it were newe shave ; 
 I trowe he were a gelding or a mare. 
 
 But of his craft, fro Berwike unto Ware, 
 Ne was ther swiche an other pardonere. 
 For in his male he hadde a pilwebere,^ 
 Which, 'as he saide, was oure ladies veil : 
 He saide, he hadde a gobbet'' of the seyl 
 Thatte seint Peter had, whan that he went 
 Upon the see, till Jesu Crist him hent.^ 
 He had a crois of laton^ ful of stones, 
 And in a glas he hadde pigges bones. 
 But with these relikes, whanne that he fond 
 A poure persone dwelling up on lond, 
 Upon a day he gat him more moneie 
 Than that the persone gat in monethes tweie. 
 And thus with fained flattering and japes, 
 He made the persone. and the peple, his apes. 
 
 1 Probably the beginniBg of some love-ditty popular in those days. 
 
 2 Hair. 3 Shreds. * Fashion. 
 
 5 A miniature copy of the picture of Christ, which is said to have been 
 miraculbusly imprinted upon a handkerchief, preserved in the Churcliof 
 St. Peter at Eome. The Pardoner, therefore, brings this in token of his 
 pilgrimage to Eome. See Du Cange, v. Veronica. 
 
 *> A pillow-case. 7 Morsel. s xook hold of him. 
 
 3 A sort of mixed metal, of the colour of brass. 
 3 
 
24 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 709-74-2, 
 
 But trewely to tellen atte at last, 
 He was in chirche a noble ecclesiast.* 
 Wei conde lie rede a lesson or a storie, 
 Eut alderbest lie sang an offertorie : 
 For wel he wiste, wlian that song was songe, 
 He muste preche, and wel afile^ his tonge, 
 To winne silver, as he right wel coude : 
 Therfore he sang the merier and loude. 
 
 Now have I told you shortly in a clause, 
 Th' estat, th' araie, the nombre, and eke the cause 
 "Why that assembled was this compagnie 
 In Southwerk at this geritil hostelrie, 
 That highte the Tabard, faste by the Belle. 
 But now is time to you for to telle, 
 How that we baren us that ilke night. 
 Whan we were in that hostelrie alight. 
 And after wol I telle of our viage. 
 And all the remenant of our pilgrimage. 
 
 But firste I praie you of your curtesie, 
 That ye ne arette^ it not my vilanie, 
 Though that I plainly sj^eke in this matere. 
 To tellen you hir wordes and hir chere ; 
 "Ne though I speke hir wordes proprely. 
 For this ye knowen al so wel as I, • 
 Who so shall telle a tale after a man, 
 He moste reherse, as neighe as ever he can, 
 Everich word, if it be in his charge, 
 All speke he never so rudely and so large ; 
 Or elles he moste tellen his tale untrewe, 
 Or feinin thinges, or finden wordes newe. 
 He may not spare, although he were his brother. 
 He moste as wel sayn o"* word, as an other. 
 Crist spake himself ful brode in holy writ, 
 And wel ye wote no vilanie is it. 
 
 It appears from hence that the Pardoner was an itinerant ecdesias- 
 tick of much the same stamp with Frate Clpolla in the Decameron, vi. 10. 
 By the Stat. 22 H. VIII. c. 12, 2i\\ proctors and pardoners going about in 
 any country without sufficient authority are to be treated as vagabonds. 
 Their impositions upon the creduhty of the vulgar have been checked by 
 several councils. See Du Cange, in v. Qisesliarii and Qucestionarius, 
 under which general names the venders of indulgences are included. 
 2 Polish. 3 Impute it to. ^ One. 
 
743-780. THE PROLOGUE. 25 
 
 Eke Plato sayeth, wlio so can him rede, 
 The wordes moste ben cosin to the dede.^ 
 
 Also I praie yon to forgive it me, 
 All have I not" sette folk in hir degree, 
 Here in this tale, as that they sliulden stonde. 
 My wit is short, ye may wel undcrstonde. 
 
 Gret chore made onre hoste us everich on, 
 And to the souper sette he us anon : 
 . And served us with vitaille of the beste. 
 Strong was the win, and wel to drinke us leste.^ 
 A semely man our hoste was v/ith alle 
 For to han ben a marshal in an halle. 
 A large man he was with eyen stepe,"* 
 A fairer burgeis is ther non in Chepe : 
 Bold of his speche, and wise and wel ytaught, 
 And of manhood him lacked righte naught. 
 Eke therto was he right a mery man, 
 And after souper. plaien he began, 
 And spake of mirthe amonges other thinges. 
 Whan that we hadden made our rekeninges ; 
 And saide thus ; Now, lordinges, trewely 
 Ye ben to me welcome right hertily : 
 For by my trouthe, if that I shal not lie, 
 I saw nat this yere swiche a compagnie 
 At ones in this herberwe,^ as is now. 
 Fayn wolde I do you mirthe, and I wiste how. 
 And of a mirthe I am right now bethought, 
 To don you ese, and it shall coste you nought. 
 Ye gon to Canterbury ; God you spede. 
 The blisful martyr quite you your mode; 
 And wel I wot, as ye gon by the way, 
 Ye shapen you to talkeu and to play : 
 For trewely comfort ne mirthe is non, 
 To riden by the way dombe as the ston : 
 And therfore wold I maken you disport. 
 As I said erst, and don you some comfort. 
 And if you liketh alle by on assent 
 Now for to stonden at my jugement : 
 
 1 This saying of Plato is quoted again v. 1 7,1 5 6. Our author probably 
 iook it from Boethius, B. iii. Pr. 12. See also Eom. de la R. ver. 74C5. 
 3 I. e. if I have not. Cf. vs. 2i77. " All be ye not of o complexion." 
 3 It pleased us well. ■* See on v. 201. 
 
 5 Harbour, i. e. inn, hostel. 
 
2G THE CANTERBURY TALES. 781-820. 
 
 And for to wei-chen^ as I slial you say 
 
 To-morwe, whan ye riden on the way, 
 
 Now by iny faders sonle that is ded, 
 
 But ye be mery, smiteth of my hed. 
 
 Hold up your liondes withouten more speche. 
 
 Our conseil was not louge for to seche : 
 Us thought it was not worth to make it wise/ 
 And granted him withouten more avise, 
 And bad him say his vsrdit, as him leste. 
 
 Lordinges^ (quod he) now herkeneth for the beste ; 
 But take it nat, I pray you, in disdain; 
 This is the point, to speke it plat and plain, 
 That eche of you to shorten with youre way. 
 In this viage, shal tellen tales tway^ 
 To Canterbury ward, I mene it so, 
 And homeward he shall tellen other two. 
 Of aventurcs that whilom han befalle. 
 And which of you that bereth him best of alle. 
 That is to sayn, that telleth in this cas 
 Tales of best sentence and most solas,^ 
 Shal have a souper at youre aller cost 
 Here in this place sitting by this post, 
 Whan that ye comen agen from Canterbury. 
 And for to maken you the more mery, 
 I wol myselven gladly with you ride, 
 Eight at min owen cost, and be your gide 
 And who that wol my jugement withsay. 
 Shall pay for alle we spenden by the way. 
 And if ye vouchesauf that it be so, 
 Telle me anon withouten wordes mo, 
 And I wol erly shapen me therfore. 
 
 This thing was granted, and our othes swore^ 
 With ful glad herte, and praiden him also, 
 That he wold vouchesauf for to don so. 
 And that he wolde ben our governour. 
 And of our tales juge and reportour, 
 And sette a souper at a certain pris ; 
 And we wol reuled ben at his devise, 
 In highe and lowe : and thus by on assent. 
 We ben accorded to his jugement. 
 
 1 To do. 2 J. c. To give it a long deliberation. ^ Comfort, pleasnre. 
 
 ^ I.e. we swore our oaths, and prayed him. Our author too fre- 
 quently omits the governing pronoun before the verb. Cf. vss. 17 57, 
 D042, 5054, &c. 
 
831-860. THE PROLOGUE. 27 
 
 And therupon the win "was fette anon. 
 We dronken. and to reste wenten eclie on, 
 Witliouten any lenger tarying. 
 
 A-morwe whan the day began to spring, 
 Up rose our hoste, and was our aller cok,^ 
 And gaderd us togeder in a flok, 
 And lorth we riden a litel more than pas, 
 Unto the watering of Seint Thomas : 
 And ther our hoste began his hors arest, 
 And saide ; lordes, herkeneth if you lest. 
 Ye wete your forword," and I it record. 
 If even-song and morwe-song accord, 
 Let se now who shal telle the first tale. 
 As ever mote I drinken win or ale, 
 Who so is rebel to my jugement, 
 Shal pay for alle that by the way is spent. 
 Now draweth^ cutte, or that ye forther tAvinne. 
 He which that hath the shortest shal beginne. 
 
 Sire knight, (quod he) my maister and my lord, 
 Now draweth cutte, for that is min accord. 
 Cometh nere, (quod he) my lady prioresse, 
 And ye, sire clerk, let be your shamefastnesse, 
 Ne studieth nought, lay hand to, every man. 
 
 Anon to drawen every wight began, 
 And shortly for to tellen as it was, 
 Were it by aventure, or sort, or cas. 
 The sothe is this, the cutte felle on the knight 
 Of which ful blith and glad was every wight ; 
 And tell he must his tale as was reson, 
 But forword, and by composition. 
 As ye han herd ; what nedeth wordes mo ? 
 And whan this good man saw that it was so, 
 As he that wise was and obedient 
 To kepe his forword by his free assent, 
 He saide ; sithen I shal begin this game, 
 What ? welcome be the cutte a-^ goddes name. 
 Now let us ride, and herkeneth^ what I say. 
 
 And with that word we riden forth our way; 
 And he began with right a mery chere 
 His tale anon, and saide as ye shul here. 
 
 1 /. e. acted as cock for us all, woke us in time. 
 8 You know your promise. 3 Draw. It is the second person plural. 
 4 Before ye proceed farther. 5 in. 6 gee on v. 837. 
 
2S 
 
 ^t f ingljf^s ink 
 
 861—890. 
 
 "Whilom, as olde stories tellen us, 
 Tlier was a duk that higlite Theseus.^ 
 Of Athenes he was lord and governoury 
 And in -his time swiche a conqiierour, 
 That greter was ther non under the sonne. 
 Fill many a riche contree had he wonne. 
 What with his wisdom and his chevalrie. 
 He conquerd all the regne of Feminie," 
 That whilom was ycleped Scythia ; 
 And wedded the freshe quene Ipolita, 
 And brought hire home with him to his contree 
 With mochel glorie and gret solempnitee. 
 And eke hire yonge suster Emelie. 
 And thus with victorie and with melodie 
 Let I this worthy duk to Athenes ride, 
 And all his host, in armes him beside. 
 
 And certes, if it n'ere^ to long to here, 
 I wolde have told you fully the manere. 
 How wonnen was the regne of Feminie, 
 By Theseus, and by his chevalrie ; 
 And of the grete bataille for the nones 
 Betwix Athenes and the Amasones ; 
 And how asseged was Ipolita 
 The faire hardy quene of Scythia ; 
 And of the feste, that was at hire wedding, 
 And of the temple at hire home coming. 
 But ail this thing I moste as now forbere. 
 I have, God wot, a large feld to ere ; 
 And weke ben the oxen in my plow. 
 The remenant of my tale is long ynow. 
 
 ^ For a copious account of the Tlieseida of Boccace, of which Chaucer 
 has largely, but with excellent judgment, availed himself, see Tyrwhitt's 
 Introduction, § ix. 
 
 2 Womanhood, i. e. the kingdom of the Amazons, s if jt were not. 
 
891 — 932. THE KNIGHTES TALE. 29 
 
 I wil not letten eke non of this route. 
 Let every felaw telle his tale aboiite, 
 And let ye now who shal the soiiper winno. 
 Ther as I left^ I wil agen beginne. 
 
 This duk, of whom I made mentioim. 
 Whan he was comen almost to the toun, 
 In all his wele and in his moste pride. 
 He was ware, as he cast his eye aside, 
 Wher that ther kneled in the highe wey 
 A compagnie of ladies, twey and twey, 
 Eche after other, clad in clothes Make : . 
 But swiche a crie and swiche a wo they make, 
 That in this world n'is creature living, 
 That ever herd swiche another waimenting. 
 And of this crie ne wolde they never stenten,* 
 Till they the reines of his bridel henten,- 
 
 What folk be ye that at min home coming 
 Perturben so my feste with crying? 
 Quod Theseus ; have ye so grete envie 
 Of min honour, that thus complaine and crie 1 
 Or who hath you misboden,^ or offended ? 
 Do telle me, if that it may be amended ; 
 And why ye be thus clothed alle in blake ? 
 
 The oldest lady of hem all than spake, 
 Whan she had swouned, with a dedly chere,^ 
 That it was reuthe*' for to seen and here. 
 She sayde ; lord, to whom fortune hath yeven 
 Victorie, and as a conquerour to liven. 
 Nought greveth us your glorie and your honour 5 
 But we beseke you of mercie and socour. 
 Have mercie on our woe and our distresse. 
 Som drope of pitee, thurgh thy gentillesse, 
 Upon us wretched wimmen let now falle. 
 Tor certes, lord, ther n'is non of us alle, 
 That she n'hath ben a duchesse or a queue ; 
 Now be we caitivea, as it is wel sene : 
 Thanked be fortune, and hire false whele. 
 That non estat ensureth to be wele. 
 And certes, lord, to abiden your presence 
 Here in this temple of the goddesse Clemence 
 We han ben waiting all this fom-tenight : 
 Now helpe us, lord, sin it lieth in thy might. 
 
 ^ So in Eomeo and Juliet : " She stinted, and cried aye," i. e. left off 
 weeping. 3 Seized. ^ injured. ^ Appearance. * Titeous. 
 
30 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 933-970, 
 
 I "wretclied wight, that wepe and waile thus, 
 Was whilom wif to king Capaneus, 
 That starfe^ at Thebes, cursed be that day : 
 And alle we that ben in this aray, 
 And maken all this lamentation. 
 We losten alle our husbondes at that toun, 
 While that the sege therabouten lay. 
 And yet now the olde Creon, wala wa l^ 
 That lord is now of Thebes the citee, 
 Fulfilled of ire and of iniquitee. 
 He :^r despit, and for his tyrannie, 
 To don the ded bodies a vilanie, 
 Of alle our lordes, which that ben yslawe, 
 Hath alle the bodies on an hepe ydrawe, 
 And will not sufiren hem by non assent 
 Neyther to ben yberied, ne ybrent, 
 But maketh houndes ete hem in despite. 
 
 And with that word, withouten more respite 
 They fallen groff,^ and crien pitously ; 
 Have on us wretched wimmen som mercy, 
 And let our sorwe sinken in thin herte. 
 
 This gentil duk doun from his courser sterte" 
 With herte pitous, whan he herd hem speke. 
 Him thoughte that his herte wolde all to-breke, 
 Whan he saw hem so pitous and so mate/ 
 That whilom weren of so gret estate. 
 And in his armes he hem all up hente. 
 And hem comforted in ful good entente. 
 And swore his oth, as he was trewe knight, 
 He wolde don so ferforthly^ his might 
 Upon the tyrant Creon hem to wreke, 
 That all the peple of Grece shulde speke, 
 How Creon was of Theseus yserved, 
 As he that hath his deth ful well deserved. 
 
 And right anon withouten more abode 
 His banner he displaide, and forth he rode 
 To Thebes ward, and all his host beside: 
 No nere Athenes n'olde he go ne ride, 
 
 1 Died. 
 2 Well a day! an old Saxon interjection. The classical student 
 should compare Sophocles' Antigone, and the Supplices and Phoenissie 
 of Euripides ; but I have no space for classical parallels. 
 3 Flat on the earth. "^ Leaped. 
 
 5 Prostrated, half dead with grief. ^ Far forth, thoroughly. 
 
871-1012. THE KNIGHTES TALE. 31 
 
 ^e take his ese fully half a day. 
 
 But onAvard on his way that night he lay ; 
 
 And sent anon Ipolita the queue, 
 
 And Emelie hire yonge sister shene^ 
 
 Unto the tonn of Athenes for to dwell : 
 
 And forth he rit ; ther n'is no more to tell. 
 
 The red statue of Mars with spere and targe 
 So shineth in his white banner large, 
 That all the feldes gliteren up and doun : 
 And by his banner borne is his penon 
 Of gold ful riche, in which ther was ybete- 
 The Minotaure which that he slew in Cfete, 
 Thus rit this duk, thus rit this eonquerour 
 And in his host of chevalrie the flour, 
 Tn that he came to Thebes, and alight 
 Fayre in a feld, ther as he thought to fight. 
 But shortly for to speken of this thing, 
 With Creon, which that was of Thebes king, 
 He fought, and slew him manly as a knight 
 In plaine bataille, and put his folk to flight : 
 And by assaut he wan the citee after, 
 And rent adoun bothe wall and sparre,-'' and rafter i 
 And to the ladies he restored again 
 The bodies of hir housbondes that were slain, 
 To don the obsequies, as was tho the gise.^ 
 
 But it were all to long for to devise 
 The grete clamour, and the waimentiug, 
 Whiche that the ladies made at the brenning 
 Of the bodies, and the gret honour. 
 That Theseus the noble conquerour 
 Doth to the ladies, whan they from him wente : 
 But shortly for to telle is min entente. 
 
 Whan that this worthy duk, this Theseus, 
 Hath Creon slaine, and wonnen Thebes thus, 
 Still in the feld he toke all night his reste, 
 And did with all the contree as him leste. 
 To ransake in the tas^ of bodies dede, 
 Hem for to stripe of harneis and of wede, . 
 The pillours"^ dide hir besinesse and cure. 
 After the bataille and discomfiture. 
 And so befell, that in the tas they found, 
 Thurgh gh^t with many a grevous blody wound, 
 
 1 Beautiful, bright. " Stamped. 3 Bar. 
 
 * As was then the fashion. 5 Heap. 6 Pillagers, 
 
33 THE CANTERBURY TALES. i013-1054» 
 
 Two yonge kniglites ligging by and by, 
 Bothe in on armes, wrought ful riclieiy ; 
 Of whiche two, Arcita higlite that on, 
 And he that other highte Palamon. 
 Not fully quik, ne fully ded they were 
 But by hir cote-armure, and by hir gere. 
 The heraudes knew hem wel in special, 
 As tho that weren of the blood reaF 
 Of Thebes, and of sustren^ two yborne. 
 Out of the tas the pillours han hem torne, 
 And han hem caried soft unto the tente 
 Of Theseus, and he ful sone hem sente 
 To Athenes, for to dwellen in prison 
 Perpetuel, he n'olde no raunson. 
 And whan this worthy duk had thus ydon. 
 He toke his host, and home he rit anon 
 With laurer crouned as a conquerour ; 
 And ther he liveth in joye and in honour 
 Terme of his lif ; what nedeth wordes mo 1 
 And in a tour, in anguish and in wo, 
 Dwellen this Palamon and eke Arcite, 
 For evermo, ther^ may no gold hem quite. 
 
 Thus passeth yere by yere, and day by day. 
 Till it felle ones in a morwe of May 
 That Emelie, that fayrer was to sene 
 Than is the lilie upon his stalke grene, 
 And fresher than the May with iloures newe, 
 (For with the rose colour strof hire he we 3 
 I n'ot which was the finer of hem two) 
 Er it was day, as she was wont to do. 
 She was arisen, and all redy dight. 
 For May wol have no slogardie a-night. 
 The seson priketh every gentil herte, 
 And maketli him out of his slej)e to sterte, 
 And sayth, arise, and do thin observance. 
 
 This maketh Emelie han remembrance 
 To don honour to May, and for to rise. 
 Yclothed was she freshe for to devise. 
 Hire yelwe here was broided in a tresse, 
 Behind hire back, a yerde long I gesse. 
 And in the gardin at the sonne uprist" 
 She walketh up and doun wher as hire list. 
 
 1 Koyal. 2 Sisters, 3 Where. 4 Keprisii\g. 
 
1055-3094 THE KNIGHTES TALE. 33 
 
 She gathereth floiires, partie white and red. 
 To make a soteP gerlond for hire hed, 
 And as an angel hevenlich she song. 
 The grete tonr, that was so thikke and strong, 
 Which of the castel was the chef dongeon, 
 (Wher as these knightes weren in prison, 
 Of which I tolde yon, and tellen shal) 
 "Was even joinant to the gardin wall, 
 Ther as this Emelie had hire playing. 
 
 Bright was the sonne, and clere that morweniiig, 
 And Palamon, this woful prisoner, 
 As was his wone, by leve of his gayler 
 Was risen, and romed in a chambre on high 
 In which he all the noble citee sigh. 
 And eke the gardin, ful of branches grene, 
 Ther as this freshe Emelia the shene^ 
 Was in hu-e walk, and romed np and donn* 
 
 This sorweful prisoner, this Palamon 
 Goth^ in his chambre roming to and fro, 
 And to himselfe complaining of his wo : 
 That he was borne, ful oft he sayd, alas! 
 
 And so befell, by aventnre or cas. 
 That thurgh a window thikke of many a barre 
 Of yren gret, and square as any sparro, 
 He cast his eyen upon Emelia, 
 And therwithal he blent^ and cried, a ! 
 As though he stongen were unto the herte. 
 
 And with that crie Arcite anon np sterte, 
 And saide, cosin min, what eyleth thee. 
 That art so pale and dedly for to see ? 
 Why cridest thou ? who hath thee don offence ? 
 For goddes love, take all in patience 
 Our prison, for it may non other be. 
 Fortune hath yeven^ ns this adversito 
 Some wikke^ aspect or disposition 
 Of Saturne, by som constellation. 
 Hath yeven us this, although we had it sworn, 
 So stood the heven whan that we were born. 
 We moste endure : this is the short and plain. 
 
 This Palamon answerde, and sayde again ; 
 
 1 Subtle, cunningly devised. 2 Beautiful. 
 
 s Goeth. 4 Blenched, shrunk, started aside. 
 
 5 Given. ^ Evil. 
 
34 THE CANTERBUKY TALES. 10Q5-113ii» 
 
 Cosin, forsotli of this opinion 
 
 Thon hast a vaine imagination. 
 
 This prison caused me not for to crie. 
 
 But I was hurt right now thurghout min eye 
 
 Into min herte, that wol my bane Ibe. 
 
 The fayrnesse of a lady that I se 
 
 Yond in the gardin roming to and fro, 
 
 Is cause of all my crying and my wo. 
 
 I n'ot whe'r she be woman or goddesse. 
 
 But Yenus is it, sothly, as I gesse. 
 
 And therwithall on knees adoun he fill, 
 And sayde : Yenus, if it be your v/ill 
 You in this gardin thus to transfigure, 
 Beforn me sorweful wretched creature, 
 Out of this prison helpe that we may scapo. 
 And if so be our d«3tinee be shape 
 By eterne word to dien in prison, 
 Of our lignage^ have som compassion. 
 That is so low ybrought by tyrannic. 
 
 And with that word Arcita gan espie 
 Yfher as this lady romed to and fro. 
 And with that sight hire beautee hurt him so. 
 That if that Palamon were wounded sore, 
 Arcite is hurt as moche as he, or more. 
 And with a sigh he sayde pitously: 
 The freshe beautee sleth" me sodenly 
 Of hire that rometh in the yonder place. 
 And but I have^ hire mercie and hire grace, 
 That I may seen hire at the leste way, 
 I n'am but ded ;'^ ther n'is no more to say. 
 
 This Palamon, whan he these wordes herd, 
 Dispitously he loked, and answerd: 
 Whether say est thou this in ernest or in play ? 
 
 Nay, quod Arcite, in ernest by my fay.^ 
 God helpe me so, me lust full yvel pley. 
 
 This Palamon gan knit his browes twey. 
 It were, quod he, to thee no gret honour 
 For to be false, ne for to be traytour 
 To me, that am thy cosin and thy brother 
 Ysworne ful depe, and eche of us to other, 
 
 1 Lineage. 2 Slayeth. ^ If I have net. 
 
 4 1 am nought but a dead man. ^ Faith. 
 
1135-1172. THE KNIGHTES TALE. 35 
 
 That never for to dien in the peine, 
 Til that the deth departen^ shal us tweine, 
 Neyther of us in love to hindre other, 
 Ne in non other cas, my le ve^ brother ; 
 But that thou shuldest trewely forther mo 
 In every cas, as I shuld forther^ thee. 
 This was thin oth, and min also certain; 
 I wot it wel, thou darst it not withsain. 
 Thus art thou of my conseil out of doute. 
 And now thou woldest falsly ben aboute 
 To love my lady, whom I love and serve, 
 And ever shal, til that min herte sterve. 
 
 Now certes, false Arcite, thou shalt no so. 
 I loved hire firste, and tolde thee my wo 
 As to my conseil, and my brother sworne 
 To forther me, as I have told beforne. 
 For which thou art ybounden as a knight 
 To helpen me, if it lie in thy might, 
 Or elles art thou false, I dare wel sain. 
 
 This Arcita full proudly spake again. 
 Thou shalt, quod^ he, be rather false than I. 
 And thou art false, I tell thee utterly. 
 For par amour^ I loved hh^e first or thou.' 
 What wolt thou sayn 1 thou wisted nat right now 
 Whether she were a woman or a goddesse. 
 Thin is affection of holinesse, 
 And min is love, as to a creature : 
 For which I tolde thee min aventure 
 As to my cosin, and my brother sworne. 
 
 I pose, that thou lovedest hire beforne: 
 Wost thou not wel the olde clerkes sawe, 
 That who shall give a lover any lawe ? 
 Love is a greter lawe by my pan,^ 
 Then may be yeven of any erthly man : 
 And therfore positif lawe, and swiche decree 
 Is broken all day for love in eche degree. 
 A man moste nedes love maugre his hed. 
 He may not fleen it, though he shuld be ded, 
 
 1 So in Froissart, v. i, c. 206. Edward III declares that he will not 
 return " jusques a tant qu'il auroit fui de guerre, ou paix a sa suffisance, 
 ou a son grand honneur, ou il jnourrait en la j^eine" — Tyrwhitt. 
 
 2 Separate. 3 Dear. '^ Forward. 
 
 5 Quoth. 6 -With love. 7 Before thou didst. 
 
 ^ 8 Skull. 
 
36 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 1173-121*. 
 
 All be she maid, or widewe, or elles wif. 
 
 And eke it is not likely all thy lif 
 To stonden in hire grace, no more shal I: 
 For wel thou wost thyselven veraily, 
 That thou and I be damned to prison 
 Perpetuel, us gaineth no raunson. 
 
 We strive, as did the houndes for the bone, 
 They fought all day, and yet hir part was none. 
 Ther came a kyte, while that they were so wrothe, 
 And bare away the bone betwix hem bothe. 
 And therfore at the kinges court, my brother, 
 Eche man for himself, ther is non other. 
 Love if thee lust ; for I love and ay shal : 
 And sothly, leve brother, this is al. 
 Here in this prison mosten we endure, 
 And everich of us take his aventure. 
 
 Gret was the strif, and long betwix hem twey. 
 If that I hadde leiser for to sey : 
 But to th' effect. It happed on a day, 
 (To tell it you as shortly as I may) 
 A worthy duk that highte Perithous, 
 That felaw was to this duk Theseus 
 Sin thilke day that they were children lite,' 
 Was come to Athenes, his felaw to visite, 
 And for to play, as he was wont to do. 
 For in this world he loved no man so : 
 And he loved him as tendrely again. 
 So wel they loved, as olde bokes sain, 
 That whan that on was ded, sothly to telle, 
 His felaw wente and sought him doun in helle : 
 But of that storie list me not to write. 
 
 Duk Perithous loved wel Arcite, 
 And had him knowe at Thebes yere by yere : 
 And finally at request and praiere 
 Of Perithous, withouten any raimson 
 Duk Theseus him let out of prison, 
 Frely to gon, wher that him list over all. 
 In swiche a gise, as I you tellen shall. 
 
 This was the forword," plainly for to endite, 
 Betwixen Theseus and him Arcite : 
 That if so were, that Arcite were yfound 
 Ever in his lif, by day or night, o stound 
 
 1 Little. 2 Agreement, covenant. 
 
5-1252. THE KNIGHTES TALE. 37 
 
 In anj contree of this Theseus, 
 
 And he were caught, it was accorded thus. 
 
 That with a swerd he shulde lese his hed ; 
 
 Ther was non other remedie ne rede.^ 
 
 But taketh his leve, and homeward he him spedds ; 
 
 Let him beware, his nekko lieth to wedde.- 
 
 How gret a sorwe suffereth now Arcite ? 
 The deth he feleth thurgh his herte smite ; 
 He wepeth, waileth, crieth pitously ; 
 To sleen himself he waiteth prively. 
 He said ; Alas the day that I was borne I 
 Now is my prison werse than beforne ; 
 Now is me shape eternally to dwelle 
 Not only in purgatorie,^ but in helle. 
 Alas ! that ever I knew Perithous. 
 For elles had I dwelt with Theseus 
 Yfetered in his prison evermo. 
 Than had I ben in blisse, and not in wo. 
 Only the sight of hire, whom that I serve, 
 Though that I never hire grace may deserve, 
 "Wold have sufficed right ynough for me. 
 
 O dere cosin Palamon, quod he. 
 Thin is the victorie of this aventure. 
 Ful blisful in prison maiest thou endure s 
 In prison 1 certes nay, but in paradise. 
 Wei hath fortune yturned thee the dise, 
 That hast the sight of hire, and I th' absence. 
 For possible is, sin^ thou hast hire presence, 
 And art a knight, a worthy and an able. 
 That by some cas, sin fortune is changeable, 
 Thou maiest to thy desir somtime atteine. 
 But I that am exiled, and barreine 
 Of alle grace, and in so gret despaire, 
 That ther n'is erthe, water, fire, ne aire, 
 Ne creature, that of hem maked is. 
 That may me hele, or don comfort in this, 
 Wei ought I sterve in wanhope' and distresse. 
 Farewel my lif, my lust, and my gladnesse. 
 
 1 Counsel, plan of escape. 
 
 2 Is in pawn, i. e.y his life is at stake. 
 
 3 I need scarcely observe that Shakspeare has committed the same 
 anachronism in the speech of the ghost in " Hamlet." 
 
 4 For sithen, since, ^ Despair. 
 
38 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 1353-1211^. 
 
 Alas, why plainen^ men so in comnmno 
 Of purvej^ance''^ of God, or of fortune, 
 That yeveth hem ful oft in many a gise 
 "Wei better than they can hemself devise ? 
 Som man desireth for to have richesse. 
 That cause is of his murdre or gret siknesse, 
 And som man wold out of his prison fayn. 
 That in his house is of his meinie^ slain. 
 Infinite harmes ben in this matere. 
 We wote not what thing that we praien herc< 
 "We faren as he that dronke is as a mous. 
 A dronken man wot wel he hath an hous, 
 But he ne wot which is the right way thider. 
 And to a dronken man the way is slider.^ 
 And certes in this world so faren we. 
 
 We seken fast after lelicite, 
 But we go wrong ful often trewely. 
 Thus we may sayen alle, and namely I, 
 That wende, and had a gret opinion, 
 That if I might escapen fro prison 
 Than had I ben in joye and parfite hele/ 
 Ther now I am exiled fro my wele. 
 Sin that T may not seen you, Emelie, 
 I n' am but ded ; ther n' is no remedie. 
 
 Upon that other side Palamon, 
 Whan that he wist Ai'cita was agon, 
 Swiche sorwe he maketh, that the grete tour 
 Eesouned of his yelling and clamour. 
 The pure fetters^ on his shinnes grete 
 Were of his bitter salte teres wete. 
 
 Alas ! quod he, Arcita cosin min, 
 Of all our strif, God wot, the frute is thin. 
 Thou walkest now in Thebes at thy large, 
 And of my wo thou yevest litel charge. 
 Thou maist, sith thou hast wisdom and manhede, 
 Assemblen all the folk of our kinrede, 
 And make a werre so sharpe on this contree, 
 That by som aventure, or som tretee, 
 Thou maist have hire to lady and to wif, 
 For whom that I must nedes lese my lif. 
 For as by way of possibilitee, 
 Sith thou art at thy large of prison free, 
 
 * Lament. 2 Providence. 3 Domestics, servants. 
 
 4 Slippery. 5 Perfect health. 5 xhe very fetters. 
 
2295-1333. THE KNIGHTES TALE. 39 
 
 And art a lord, gret is thin avantage, 
 More than is min, that sterve here in a cage. 
 Tor I may wepe and waile^ while that I live, 
 With all the wo that prison may me yeve, 
 And eke with peine that love me yeveth also, 
 That doubleth all my tourment and my wo. 
 
 Therwith the fire of jalousie up sterte 
 Within his brest, and hent him by the herta 
 So woodly, that he like was to behold 
 The box-tree, or the ashen ded and cold. 
 Than said he ; cruel goddes, that governe 
 This world with binding of your word eterne, 
 And writen in the table of athamant 
 Your parlement^ and your eterne grant, 
 What is mankind more unto you yhold- 
 Than is the shepe, that rouketh^ in the fold 2 
 For slain is man, right as another beest, 
 And dwelleth eke in 23rison, and arrest, 
 And hath siknesse, and gret adversite, 
 And oftentimes gilteles parde.^ 
 
 What governance is in this prescience, 
 That gilteles turmenteth innocence 1 
 And yet encreseth this all my penance. 
 That man is bounden to his observance 
 For Goddes sake to leten of his will, 
 Ther as a beest may all his lust fulfill. 
 And whan a beest is ded, he hath no peine ; 
 But man after his deth mote wepe and pleine, 
 Though in this world he have care and wo : 
 Withouten doute it maye stonden so. 
 
 The answer of this lete I to divines. 
 But wel I wote, that in this world gret pine is. 
 Alas ! I see a serpent or a thefe. 
 That many a trewe man hath do meschefe, 
 Gon at his large, and wher him lust may turn. 
 But I moste ben in prison thurgh Saturn, *^ 
 
 And eke thurgh Juno, jalous and eke wood,^ 
 That hath wel neye destruied all the blood 
 
 1 Your counsel, determination. 2 Beholden. 
 
 3 Lieth close, So Conf. Ans. 72. "But now they j-mc^cw in her nest. 
 
 ^ I. e. Pardieux, " a common French oath, which most of the person- 
 ages in Chaucer express very frequently in English, with as little 
 ceremony as the Greeks used their ' By Jove,' and with as little meaning 
 too."— TyrwMtt, gl. 5 Mad. 
 
40 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 1333-137& 
 
 Of Thebes, with his waste walles wide. 
 And Yenus sleeth me on that other sido 
 For jalousie, and fere of him Arcite. 
 
 Now wol I stent ^ of Palamon a lite, 
 And leten him in his prison still dwelle, 
 And of Arcita forth I wol you telle. 
 
 The sommer passeth, and the nightes long 
 Encresen double wise the peines strong 
 Both of the lover, and of the prisoner. 
 I n'ot which hath the wofuller mistere. 
 For shortly for to say, this Palamoa 
 Perpetuelly is damned to prison, 
 In chaines and in fetters to ben ded ; 
 And Arcite is exiled on his hed^ 
 For evermore as out of that contree, 
 Ke never more he shal his lady see. 
 
 You lovers axe I now this question, 
 "Who hath the worse, Arcite or Palamon 1 
 That on^ may se his lady day by day. 
 But in prison moste he dwellen alway. 
 That other wher him lust may ride or go. 
 But sen his lady shall he ne ver mo. 
 Now demeth as you liste, ye that can, 
 For I wol tell you forth as I began. 
 
 Whan that Arcite to Thebes comen was, 
 Ful oft a day he swelt* and said alas, 
 For sen his lady shall he never mo. 
 And shortly to concluden all' his wo. 
 So mochel sorwe hadde never creature, 
 That is or shal be, while the world may dure. 
 His slope, his mete, his drinke is him byraft. 
 That lene he wex, and drie as is a shaft.^ 
 His eyen holwe, and grisly to behold. 
 His hewe falwe,*^ and pale as ashen cold, 
 And solitary he was, and ever alone. 
 And wailing all the night, making his mone. 
 And if he herde song or instrument, 
 Than wold he wepe, he mighte not be stent.^ 
 So feble were his spirites, and so low, 
 And changed so, that no man coude know 
 
 * Cease speaking of. ^ I.e., on pain of his life. 
 
 3 One. 4 Fainted, grew eick at heart. ^ An arrow. 
 
 * Complexion sallow. 7 Restrained. 
 
J373-140S. THE KNIGHTES TALE. 4:1 
 
 His speclie ne his vois, though men it herd. 
 And in his gere, lor all the world he ferd 
 Nought only like the lovers maladie 
 Of Ereos,^ but rather ylike manie, 
 Engendred of humours melancolike, 
 Beforne his hed in his celle fantastike. 
 And shortly turned was all up so doun 
 Both habit and eke dispositioun 
 Of him, this woful lover dan Arcite. 
 What shuld I all day of his wo endite 1 
 Whan he endured had a yere or two 
 This cruel torment, and this peine and wo, 
 At Thebes, in his eontree, as I said, 
 Upon a night in slepe as he him laid, 
 Him thought how that the winged god Mercuiy 
 Beforne him stood, and bad him to be mery. 
 His sleepy yerde" in hond he bare upright ; 
 An hat he wered upon his heres bright. 
 Arraied was this god (as he toke kepe) 
 As he was whan that Argus^ toke his slepe ; 
 And said him thus : To Athenes shalt thou wende ; 
 Ther is thee shapen of thy wo an ende. 
 
 And with that word Arcite awoke and stert. 
 Now trewely how sore that ever me smert, 
 Quod he, to Athenes right now wol I fare, 
 Ne for no drede of deth shal I not spare 
 To se my lady, that I love and serve ; 
 In hh-e presence I rekke not to sterve. 
 And with that word he caught a great mirrour. 
 And saw that changed was all his colour, 
 And saw his visage all in another kind. 
 And right anon it ran him in his mind, 
 That sith his face was so disfigured 
 Of maladie the which he had endured. 
 He mighte wel, if that he bare him lowe^ 
 Live in Athenes evermore unknowe, 
 
 1 For Eros, the Greek name of Love. 
 8 /.e., his caduceus, or wand, 
 
 " The golden wand, that causes sleep to fly. 
 
 Or in soft slumber seals the wakeful eye. 
 
 That drives the ghosts to realms of night or day, 
 
 Points out the long uncomfortable way." 
 
 Pope's Odysse7;,\)k. 24. 
 ^ Mercury succeeded in closing his hundred eyes, and then slew him. 
 4 Humbly. 
 
42 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 1400-144;4« 
 
 And seu his lady wel nigh day by day. 
 And right anon he changed his aray, 
 And clad him as a poure labourer. 
 And all alone, save only a squier, 
 That knew his privitee and all his cas, 
 Which was disguised pourely as he was, 
 To Athenes is he gon the nexte way. 
 And to the court he went upon a day, 
 And at the gate he proffered his service, 
 To drugge' and draw, what so men wold devisa. 
 And shortly of this matere for to sayn, 
 He fell in office with a chamberlain, 
 The which that dwelling was with JEmelie. 
 Eor he was wise, and coude sone espie 
 Of every servant, which that served hire. 
 Wel coude he hewen wood, and water bere, 
 For he was yonge and mighty for the nones, 
 And therto he was strong and big of bones 
 To don that any wight can him devise. 
 A yere or two he was in this service, 
 Page of the chambre of Emelie the bright; 
 And Philostrate^ he sayde that he hight. 
 But half so wel beloved a man as he, 
 Ne was ther never in court of his degre. 
 He was so gentil of conditioun, 
 That thurghout all the court was his renoun. 
 They sayden that it were a charite 
 That Theseus wold enhaunsen his degre. 
 And putten him in worshipful service, 
 Ther as he might his vertues exercise. 
 And thus within a while his name is siDronge 
 Both of his dedes, and of his good tonge, 
 That Theseus hath taken him of ner^ 
 That of his chambre he made him a squier, 
 And gave him gold to mainteine his degre ; 
 And eke men brought him out of his contre 
 
 1 Drag. 
 2 In the Theseida. Arcite takes the name of Pentheo. Seethe Dis* 
 course, &c., p. S3. The name of rhilostrate might be suggested to 
 Chaucer, either by Eoccace's poem entitled Philostrato, or by the 
 Pecameron, in which one of the characters is so called. In the Mid- 
 summer Night's Drenm, of which the principal subject is plainly taken 
 from this tale, a Philostrate is also introduced, as a favourite servant of 
 Theseus and master of his sports. — Tyrwhitt. 
 
 3 Nearer his person, into more confidential service. 
 
1445-14S0. THE KNIGHTES TALE. 43 
 
 Fro yere to yere ful prively^ his rent. 
 But honestly and sleighly he it spent, 
 That no man wondred how that he it hadde. 
 And thre yere in this wise his life he ladde, 
 And bare him so in pees and eke in werre, 
 Ther n'as no man that Theseus hath derre. 
 And in this blisse let I now Arcite, 
 And speke I wol of Palamon a lite. 
 
 In derkenesse and horrible and strong prison 
 This seven yere hath sitten Palamon, 
 Torpined, what for love and for distresse. 
 Who feleth double sorwe and hevinesse 
 But Palamon ? that love distraineth so, 
 That wood- out of his wit he goth for wo. 
 And eke therto he is a prisonere 
 Perpetuell, not only for a yere. 
 
 "Who coude rime in English proprely 
 His martirdom 1 forsoth it am not I, 
 Therfore I passe as lightly as I may. 
 It fell that in the seventh yere in May 
 The thridde night, (as olde bokes sayn, 
 That all this storie tellen more plain) 
 "Were it by aventure or destinee, 
 (As, whan a thing is shapen, it shal be,) 
 That sone after the midnight, Palamon 
 By helping of a frend brake his prison, 
 And fleeth the cite faste as he may go, 
 For he had yeven drinke his gayler so 
 Of a clarre,^ made of a certain wine. 
 With ISTarcotikes and Opie of Thebes fine. 
 That all the night though that men wold him shake, 
 The gailer slept, he mighte not awake. 
 And thus he fleeth as faste as ever he may. 
 
 The night was short, and faste by the day. 
 That nedes cost* he moste himselven hide. 
 And to a grove faste ther beside 
 
 1 Privately. 2 Mad. 
 
 3 Wine mixed with honey and spices, and afterwards strained till it 
 is clear. — Tyi'whitt, gl. 
 
 4 That nedes cost. The sense of this passage, as it stands in the 
 MSS.jis so obscure, that I am inclined to adopt the alteration proposed 
 in Gl. Urr. v. Nede. That nedes cast he moste himselven hide ; i. e., 
 that he must needs cast, or contrive, to hide himself. But I find the 
 same expression in L. W. 2686. 
 
 •* Or nedes cosie this thing mote have an ende." — TyrwJiitt. 
 
44: THE CANTERBURY TALES. 1481-1522, 
 
 With dredful foot^ than stalketh Palamon. 
 
 For shortly this was his opinion, 
 
 That in that grove he wold him hide all day, 
 
 And in the night than wold he take his way 
 
 To Thebes ward, his frendes for to preie 
 
 On Theseus to helpen him to werreie.- 
 
 And shortly, eyther he wold lese his lif. 
 
 Or winnen Emelie unto his wif. 
 
 This is the effect, and his entente plein. 
 
 Now wol I turnen to Arcite agein, 
 That litel wist how neighe was his care, 
 Til that fortune had brought him in the snare. 
 The besy larke, the messager of day, 
 Saieweth^ in hire song the morwe gray; 
 And firy Phebus riseth up so bright, 
 That all the orient laugheth of the sight, 
 And with his stremes drieth in the grevea 
 The silver dropes, hanging on the leves, 
 And Arcite, that is in the court real'^ 
 With Theseus the squier principal, 
 Is risen, and loketh on the mery day. 
 And for to don his observance to Mayj, 
 Eemembring on the point of his desire, 
 He on his courser, sterting as the fire. 
 Is ridden to the feldes him to pley, 
 Out of the court, were it a mile or twey. 
 And to the grove of which that I you told. 
 By aventure his way he gan to hold, 
 To maken him a gerlond of the greves, 
 Were it of woodbind or of hauthorn leves. 
 And loud he song agen the sonne shene. 
 
 O Maye, with all thy floures and thy grene, 
 Eight welcome be thou faire freshe May, 
 I hope that I some grene here getten may. 
 And from his courser, with a lusty herte 
 Into the grove ful hastily he sterte, 
 And in a path he romed up and doun, 
 Ther as by aventure this Palamon 
 Was in a bush, that no man might him so. 
 For sore afered of his deth was he. 
 Nothing ne knew he that it was Arcite. 
 God wot he wold have trowed it ful lite. 
 
 1 Timid, stealthy. 2 Make war, 
 
 3 Salutes. * Eoyal 
 
1523-1560. THE KNIGHTES TALE. 45 
 
 But soth is said, gon sithen are many yeres, 
 That feld hath eyen, and the wood hath eres. 
 It is ful faire a man to here him even, 
 For al day meten men at unset steven.^ 
 Ful litel wote Arcite of his lelaw, 
 That was so neigh to herken of his saw, 
 For in the bush he sitteth now ful still. 
 
 Whan that Arcite had romed all his fill, 
 And songen all the roundel- lustily, 
 Into a studie he fell sodenly. 
 As don these lovers in hir queinte geres,' 
 Now in the crop,^ and now doun in the breres, 
 Now up, now doun, as boket in a well. 
 Eight as the Friday, sothly for to tell, 
 Now shineth it, and now it raineth fast, 
 Eight so can gery^ Venus overcast 
 The hertes of hire folk, right as hire day 
 Is gerfuU, right so changeth she aray. 
 Selde is the Friday all the weke ylike. 
 
 Whan Arcite hadde ysonge, he gan to sike/ 
 And set him doun withouten any more : 
 Alas ! (quod he) the day that I was bore ! 
 How longe, Juno, thurgh thy crueltee 
 Wilt thou werrein Thebes the citee ? 
 Alas ! ybrought is to confusion 
 The blood real of Cadme and Amphion : 
 Of Cadmus, which that was the firste man, 
 That Thebes built, or firste the toun began, 
 And of the citee firste was crouned king. 
 Of his linage am I, and his ofspring 
 By veray line, as of the stok real : 
 And now I am so caitif and so thral,* 
 That he that is my mortal enemy, 
 I serve him as his squier pourely. 
 And yet doth Juno me wel more shame, 
 For I dare not beknowe^ min own name. 
 But ther as I was wont to highte Arcite, 
 Now highte I Philostrat, not worth a mite. 
 Alas ! thou fell Mars ! alas i thou Juno, 
 Thus hath your ire our linage all fordo, 
 " A time for performing any action, previously fixed by message, 
 order, summons, &c. — Tynvhitt. 
 
 2 Or rondel, " a rime or sonnet, which ends as it begins." — Cofgrave. 
 
 3 Strange fashions. ^ xhe top. ^ Briars. 
 
 6 Changeable, inconstant. ^ Sigh. 8 A slave, a villain 
 
 9 Acknowledge. 
 
4:6 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 15G1-350S. 
 
 Save only me, and wretched Palamon, 
 
 Tliat Theseus martireth in prison. 
 
 And over all this, to slen me utterly, 
 
 Love hath his firy dart so brenningly 
 
 Ystiked^ thurgh my trewe careful hert, 
 
 That shapen was my deth erst than my shert.^ 
 
 Ye slen me with your eyen, Emelie ; 
 
 Ye ben the cause wherfore that I die. 
 
 Of all the remenant of min other care 
 
 Ne set I not the mountance^ of a tare, 
 
 So that I coud don ought to your plesance. 
 
 And with that word he fell doun in a trance 
 A longe time ; and afterward up sterte 
 This Palamon^ that thought thurghout his herta 
 He felt a colde swerd sodenly glide: 
 For ire he quoke, no lenger wolde he hide. 
 And whan that he had herd Arcites tale, 
 As he were wood, with face ded and pale. 
 He sterte him up out of the bushes thikke, 
 And sayde : False Arcite, false traitour wicke, 
 Now art thou hent, that lovest my lady so, 
 For whom that I have all this peine and wo, 
 And art my blood, and to my conseil sworn, 
 As I ful oft have told thee herebeforn. 
 And hast bejaped'* her duk Theseus, 
 And falsely changed hast thy name thus ; 
 I wol be ded, or elles thou shalt die. 
 Thou shalt not love my lady Emelie, 
 But I wol love hire only and no mo. 
 For I am Palamon thy mortal fo. 
 And though that I no wepen have in this place, 
 But out of prison am astert by grace, 
 I drede nought, that eyther thou shalt die. 
 Or thou ne shalt nat loven Emelie. 
 Chese which thou wolt, for thou shalt not asterte.i 
 
 This Arcite tho, with ful dispitous herte, 
 Whan he him knew, and had his tale herd. 
 As fers as a leon, pulled out a swerd, 
 
 1 Pierced, plunged. 
 " Tyrwhitt (in gl.) compares T. iii, 734: 
 
 " O fatal sustren, which, or any clothe 
 Me shapen ivas, my destinee ne sponne." 
 AndL. W. 261S: 
 
 " Sens first that day, that shapen teas my sJierte, 
 Or by the fatal sister had my dome." 
 3 Amount, value. '^ Tricked. 5 Escape. 
 
I599-1640„ THE KNIGHTES TALE. 47 
 
 And sayde tliiis ; By God that sittetli above, 
 N'ere it that thou art sike, and wood for love, 
 And eke that thou no wepen hast in this place, 
 Thou sh'Lildest never out of this grove pace, 
 That thou ne shuldest dien of min hond. 
 For I deiie the suretee and the bond, 
 Wliich that thou saist that I have made to thee. 
 What 1 veray fool, thinke wel that love is free, 
 And I wol love hire maugre^ all thy might. 
 But, for thou art a worthy gentil knight, 
 And wilnest to darraine^ hire by bataille. 
 Have here my trouth, to-morwe I will not faille^ 
 Withouten weting of any other wight, 
 That here I wol be founden as a knight. 
 And bringen harneis right ynough for thee ; 
 And chese the beste, and leve the werste for me. 
 And mete and drinke this night wol I bring 
 Ynough for thee, and clothes for thy bedding. 
 And if so be that thou my lady win. 
 And sle me in this wode, ther I am in. 
 Thou maist wel have thy lady as for me. 
 
 This Palamon answerd, I grant it thee. 
 Aud thus they ben departed til a-morwe, 
 "Whan eche of hem hath laid his faith to borwe, 
 
 O Cupide, out of alle charitee I 
 O regne,^ that wolt no felaw have with thee ! 
 Tul soth is sayde, that love ne lordship 
 Wol nat, his thankes,"* have no felawship. 
 Wel finden that Arcite and Palamon. 
 
 Arcite is ridden anon unto the toun, 
 And on the morwe, or it were day light, 
 Tul prively two harneis hath he dight. 
 Both suffisant and mete to darreine 
 The bataille in the feld betwix hem tweine. 
 And on his hors, alone as he was borne. 
 He carieth all this harneis him beforne ; 
 And in the grove, at time and place ysette. 
 This Arcite and this Palamon ben mette. 
 Tho changen gan the colour of hir face. 
 Bight as the hunter in the regne of Trace 
 That stondeth at a gappe with a spere, 
 Whan hunted is the lion or the here, 
 1 Despite. 2 Contend for. 
 
 8 King. 4 With his good will. 
 
 5 
 
4:8 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 1641-1683. 
 
 And heretli liim come rusliing in the greves,* 
 And breking botlie the boughes and the leves, 
 And thinketh, here cometh my mortal enemy.j 
 Withouten faille, he must be ded or I ; 
 For eyther I mote slen him at the gappe ; 
 Or he mote slen me, if that me mishajDpe : 
 So ferden^ they, in changing of hir hevfe. 
 As fer as eyther of hem other knewe. 
 Ther n'as no good day, ne no saluing. 
 But streit withouten wordes rehersing, 
 Everich of hem halpe to armen other, 
 As frendly, as he were his owen brother. 
 And after that, with sharpe speres strong 
 They foineden^ eche at other wonder long. 
 Thou mightest w^enen, that this Palamon 
 In his fighting were as a wood leon, 
 And as a cruel tigre was Arcite : 
 As wilde bores gan they togeder smite, 
 That frothen white as fome for ire wood. 
 Up to the ancle foughte they in hir blood. 
 And in this wise I let hem fighting dwelle, 
 And forth I wol of Theseus you telle. 
 
 The destinee, ministre general, 
 That executeth in the world over al 
 The purveiance, that God hath sen beforne ; 
 So strong it is, that though the world had sworno 
 The contrary of a thing by ya or nay, 
 Yet somtime it shall fallen on a day 
 That falleth nat efte in a thousand yere. 
 Tor certainly our appetites here, 
 Be it of wxrre, or pees, or hate, or love, 
 All is this ruled by the sight above. 
 This mene I now by mighty Theseus, 
 That for to hunten is so desirous, 
 And namely at the grete hart in May, 
 That in his bed ther daweth^ him no day, 
 That he n'is clad, and redy for to ride 
 With hunte and home, and houndes him besido. 
 For in his hunting hath he swiche delite, 
 That it is all his joye and appetite 
 To ben himself the grete hartes bane. 
 For after Mars he serveth now Diane. 
 
 1 Groves. " Farce!. 
 
 s Made passes at each other. "* Dawncth. 
 
1683-1723. THE KNIGHTES TALE. 49 
 
 Clere was tlie day, as I have told or this, 
 And Theseus, with alle joye and blis, 
 With his Ipolita, the fayre qnene, 
 And Emelie, yclothed all in grene, 
 On hunting ben they ridden really. 
 And to the grove, that stood ther faste by, 
 In which ther was an hart as men him told, 
 Duk Theseus the streite way hath hold. 
 And to the launde he rideth him ful right, 
 Ther was t%e hart ywont to have his flight, 
 And over a brooke, and so forth on his wey. 
 This duk wol have a cours at him or twey 
 With houndes, swiche as him lust to commaund©. 
 And when this duk was comen to the launde^ 
 Under the sonne he loked, and anon 
 He was ware of Arcite and Palamon, 
 That foughten breme,^ as it were holies- tvfo. 
 The brighte swerdes wenten to and fro 
 So hidously, that with the leste stroke 
 It semed that it wolde felle an oke. 
 But what they weren, nothing he ne wote. 
 This duk his coiirser with his sporres smote. 
 And at a stert he was betwix hem two, 
 And pulled out a swerd and cried, ho ! 
 No more, uj) peine of lesing ol your hed. 
 By mighty Mars, he shal anon be ded, 
 That smiteth any stroke, that I may sen. 
 But telleth me what mistere^ men ye ben, 
 That ben so hardy for to fighten here 
 Withouten any juge other officere, 
 As though it were in listes really. 
 
 This Palamon answered hastily. 
 And saide : Sire, what nedeth wordes mo 1 
 We have the deth deserved bothe two. 
 Two woful wretches ben we, two caitives, 
 That ben accombred'* of our owen lives, 
 And as thou art a rightful lord and juge, 
 Ne yeve us neyther mercie ne refuge. 
 
 1 Furiously. 
 2 Bulls. This is a very frequent comparison with the poets* 
 especially when describing a quarrel about a love affair. 
 
 * What manner of men, of what profession. * Tired. 
 
50 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 1723-1762. 
 
 And sle me first, for seinte cliaritee. 
 
 But sle my felaw eke as wel as me. 
 
 Or sle him first ; for, though thou know it lite,' 
 
 This is thy mortal fo, this is Arcite, 
 
 That fro thy lond is banished on his hed, 
 
 Tor which he hath deserved to be ded. 
 
 For this is he that came unto thy gate 
 
 And saydO; that he highte Philostrate. 
 
 Thus hath he japed^ thee ful many a yere, 
 
 And thou hast maked him thy chief squiere. 
 
 And this is he, that loveth Emelie. 
 
 For sith the day is come that I shal die 
 I make ]3lainly my confession. 
 That I am thilke woful Palamon, 
 That hath thy prison broken wiliuUy. 
 I am thy mortal fo, and it am I 
 That loveth so hot Emelie the bright, 
 That I wold dien present in hire sight, 
 Therfore I axe deth and my jewise.^ 
 But sle my felaw in the same wise, 
 For both we have deserved to be slain. 
 
 This worthy duk answerd anon again, 
 And sayd, This is a short conclusion. 
 Your owen mouth, by your confession 
 Hath damned you, and I wol it recorde. 
 It needeth not to peine you with the corde. 
 Ye shul be ded by mighty Mars the rede."* 
 
 The queue anon for veray womanhede 
 Gan for to wepe, and so did Emelie, 
 And all the ladies in the compagnie. 
 Gret pite was it, as it thought hem alle. 
 That ever swiche a chance shulde befalle. 
 For gentil men they were of great estat, 
 And nothing but for love was this debat. 
 And sawe hir blody woundes wide and sore ; 
 And alle criden bothe lesse and more. 
 Have mercie, Lord, upon us wimmen alle. 
 And on hir bare knees adoun they falle, 
 And wold have kist his feet ther as he stood, 
 Till at the last, aslaked^ was his mood ; 
 
 » Thou little knowest it. 2 XrickecJ. 
 
 * Punishment, a corruption of "justice," or of the Latin "judicium." 
 
 * lied, i. e. bloody. 5 Eelaxed, softened. 
 
1763-1804-. THE KNIGHTES TALE. 01 
 
 (For pitee renneth. sone in gentil herte) 
 
 And though, he first for ire quoke^ and sterte,^ 
 
 He hath considered shortly in a clause 
 
 The trespas oi hem both, and eke the cause: 
 
 And although that his ire hir gilt accused, 
 
 Yet in his reson he hem both excused ; 
 
 As thus ; he thoughte Y/el that every man 
 
 Wol helpe hiniseli in love if that he can. 
 
 And eke deliver himsell out of prison. 
 
 And eke his herte had compassion 
 
 Of wimmen, for they wepten ever in on :^ 
 
 And in his gentil herte he thoughte anon, 
 
 And soft unto himself he sayed : fie 
 
 Upon a lord that wol have no mercie, 
 
 But be a leon both in word and dede, 
 
 To hem that ben in repentance and drede, 
 
 As wel as to a proud dispitous man, 
 
 That wol mainteinen that^ he first began. 
 
 That lord hath litel of discretion. 
 
 That in swiche cas can no division : 
 
 But weigheth pride and humblesse after on.' 
 
 And shortly, whan his ire is thus agon, 
 
 He gan to loken up with eyen light. 
 
 And spake these same wordes all on hight. 
 
 The god of love, a ! henedicite, 
 How mighty and how grete a lord is he ? 
 Again his might their gainen non obstacles, 
 He may be cleped a God for his miracles. 
 For he can maken at his owen gise 
 Of everich herte, as that him list devise. 
 Lo here this Arcite, and this Palamon, 
 That quitely^ weren out of my prison, 
 And might have lived in Thebes really, 
 And weten'' I am hir mortal enemy. 
 And that hir deth lith in my might also, 
 And yet hath love, maugre hir eyen two, 
 Ybrought hem hither bothe for to die. 
 Now loketh, is not this an heigh folie ] 
 Who maye ben a fool, but if he love 1 
 Behold for Goddes sake that sitteth above, 
 Se how they blede! be they not wel araied? 
 Thus hath hu- lord, the god of love, hem paied 
 
 1 Shock. 2 started. 3 Together. 
 
 * What. s ^s the same. ^ Freely. 7 Knew. 
 
52 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 1805-1846* 
 
 Hir wages, and hir fees for hir service. 
 And yet they wenen for to be ful wise, 
 That serven love, for ought that may hefallo. 
 And yet is this the beste game of alle, 
 That she, for whom they have this jolite, 
 Con hem therfore as mochel thank as me. 
 She wot no more of alle this hote fare 
 By God, than wot a cuckow or an hare. 
 But all mote ben assaied hote or cold ; 
 A man mote ben a fool other yonge or old; 
 I wot it by myself ful yore agon : 
 For in my time a servant was I on. 
 And therfore sith I know of loves peine, 
 And wot how sore it can a man destreine, 
 As he that oft hath ben caught in his las,* 
 I you foryeve all holly this trespas, 
 At request of the queue that kneleth here. 
 And eke of Emelie, my suster dere. 
 And ye shul bothe anon unto me swere, 
 That never mo ye shul my contree dere,^ 
 Ne maken werre upon me night ne day, 
 But ben my frendes in alle that ye may. 
 I you foryeve this trespas every del,-^ 
 And they him sware his axing fayr and wel. 
 And him of lordshijD and oi mercie praid, 
 And he hem granted grace, and thus he said: 
 
 To speke of real linage and richesse. 
 Though that she were a queue or a princesse, 
 Eche of you bothe is worthy douteles 
 To wedden whan time is, but natheles 
 I speke as for my suster Emelie, 
 For whom ye have this strif and jalousie. 
 Ye wot yourself, she may not wedden two 
 At ones, though ye fighten evermo: 
 But on of you, al be him loth or lefe, 
 He mot gon pipen in an ivy lefe :^ 
 This is to say, she may not have you bothe, 
 Al be ye never so jalous, ne so wrothe. 
 And forthy^ I you put in this degree, 
 That eche of you shall have his destinee, 
 As him is shape,*" and herkneth in what wise ; 
 Lo here your ende ot that I shal devise. 
 
 ' Bnare. 2 Hurt. 3 Entirely. 
 
 4 A proverb expressive of disappointment. 5 Therefore. 6 j'it. 
 
i2i7-185S. THE KNIGHTES TALE. 53 
 
 My will is this for plat^ conclusion 
 "Withoiiten any replication, 
 If that you liketh, take it for the beste. 
 That everich of you shal gon wher him Teste 
 Freely withouten raunson or dangere ; 
 And this day fifty wekes, ferre ne nere,^ 
 Everich of you shal bring an hundred knight cs. 
 Armed for listes up at alle rightes 
 Alle redy to darrein'^ hire by bataille. 
 And this behete I you withouten faille 
 Upon my trouth, and as I am a knight, 
 That whether of you bothe hath that might, 
 
 ' Plain. 
 
 2 Far or near. The following remarks, in Notes and Queries, v. iff. 
 p. 202, are very important : — " With respect to the time of year at which 
 the tournament takes place, there seems to be an inconsistency." 
 Theseus fixes ' this day fifty wekes' from the fourth of May, as the day 
 on which the final contention must come off, and yet the day previous 
 to the final contention is afterwards alluded to as " the lusty season of 
 that May" which, it is needless to say, would be inconsistent with an 
 interval of fifty ordinary weeks. 
 
 " But fifty weeks, if taken in their literal sense of 350 days, would be 
 a most unmeaning interval for Theseus to fix upon, — it would almost 
 require explanation as much as the difficulty itself ; it is therefore much 
 easier to suppose that Chaucer meant to imply tlie interval of a solar year. 
 Why he should choose to express that interval by fifty, rather than by 
 fifty-two, weeks may be surmised in two ways : first, because the latter 
 phrase would be unpoetical and unmanageable ; and secondly, because 
 he might fancy that the week of the Pagan Theseus would be more 
 appropriately represented by a lunar quarter than by a Jewish heb- 
 domad. 
 
 "Chaucer sometimes makes the strangest jumble — mixing up togethc? 
 pagan matters and Christian, Eoman and Grecian, ancient and modern; 
 so that, although he names Sunday and Monday as two of the days of 
 the week in Athens, he does so evidently for the purpose of introducing 
 the allocatica of the hours, alluded to before, to which the planetary 
 names of the days of the week were absolutely necessary. But in the 
 fifty weeks appointed by Theseus, the very same love of a little dis- 
 play of erudition would lead Chaucer to choose the hebdoraas luna?, or 
 lunar quarter, which the Athenian youth were wont to mark out by the 
 celebration of a feast to Apollo on every seventh day of the moon. But 
 after the first twenty-eight days of every lunar month, the weekly 
 reckoning must have been discontinued for about a day and a half 
 (when the new moon was what was called 'in coitu,' or invisible) after 
 which a new reckoning of sevens would recommence. Hence there 
 could be but four hebdomades in each lunar month; and as there are 
 about twelve and a half lunar months in a solar year, so must there 
 have been fifty lunar weeks in one solar year " 
 3 Besregne, to contend. 
 
5^ THE CANTERBURY TALES. 1859-1900. 
 
 Tills Is to sayn, that whether he or thou 
 May with his hundred, as I spake of now, 
 Sle his contrary, or out of listes drive. 
 Him shall I yeven Emelie to wive, 
 To whom that fortune yeveth so fayr a grace. 
 
 The listes shal I maken in this place, 
 And God so wisly on my soule rewe,^ 
 As I shal even juge ben, and trewe. 
 Ye shal non other ende with me maken 
 That on of you ne shal be ded or taken. 
 And it you thinketh this is wel ysaid, 
 Saith your avis, and holdeth you apaid.^ 
 This is your ende, and your conclusion. 
 
 Who loketh lightly now but Palamon ] 
 Who springe th uj) for joye but Arcite? 
 Who coud it tell, or who coud it endite, 
 The joye that is maked in the place 
 Whan Theseus hath don so fayre a grace ? 
 But doun on knees went every manere wight,^ 
 And thanked him with all hir hertes might, 
 And namely these Thebanes often sith."* 
 
 And thus with good hope and with herte blitli 
 They taken hir leve, and homeward gan they ride 
 To Thebes, with his olde walles wide. 
 
 I trowe men wolde deme it negligence, 
 If I foryete to tellen the disiDsnce 
 Of Theseus, that goth so besily^ 
 To maken up the listes really, 
 That swiche a noble theatre as it was, 
 I dare wel sayn, in all this world ther n'aa, 
 The cii^cuite a mile was a.boute, 
 Walled of stone, and diched all withoute. 
 Kound was the shape, in manere of a compas 
 Ful of degrees, the hight of sixty pas,*^ 
 That whan a man was set on o degree 
 He let'^ycd not his felaw lor to see. 
 Estward ther stood a gate of marbel white, 
 Westward right swiche another in th' opposite. 
 And shortly to concluden, swiche a place 
 Was never in erthe, in so litel a space, 
 For in the lond ther n'as no craftes man, 
 That geometric, or arsmetrike can, 
 
 * Have mercy. 2 Satisficcl. ^ Every man of them, 
 
 * Since. 5 Busily. ^ Foot-paces. 
 
1901-1938. THE KNIGHTES TALE. 55 
 
 Ne portreiour, ne kerver of images, 
 That Theseus ne yaf ^ him mete and wages 
 The theatre for to maken and devise. 
 
 And for to don his rite and sacrifice, 
 He estward hath npon the gate above, 
 In worship of Venus goddesse of love, 
 Don make an auter- and an oratorie ; 
 And westward in the minde and in memorie 
 01 Mars he maked hath right swiche another. 
 That coste largely of gold a fother.^ 
 And northward, in a touret on the wall, 
 Of alabastre white and red corall 
 An oratorie riche for to see. 
 In worship of Diane of chastitee, 
 Hath Theseus don wrought in notle wise.'* 
 
 But yet had I foryetten to devise 
 The noble kerving, and the portreitures, 
 The shape, the contenance of the figures 
 That weren in these oratories three. 
 
 First in the temple of Yenus maist thou sea 
 Wrought on the wall, ful pitous to beholde, 
 The broken slepes, and the sikes^ colde, 
 The sacred teres, and the waimentinges,^ 
 The firy strokes of the desiringes, 
 That loves servants in this lif enduren; 
 The othes, that hir covenants assuren. 
 Plesance and hope, desire, foolhardinesse, 
 Beaute and youthe, baudrie and richesse, 
 Charmes and force, lesinges'^ and flaterie, 
 Dispence,^ besinesse, and jalousie. 
 That wered of yelwe goldes a gerlond. 
 And hadde a cuckow sitting on hu-e hond, 
 Testes, instruments, and caroles and dances, 
 Lust and array, and all the circumstances 
 Of love, which that I reken and reken shall, 
 By ordre weren peinted on the wall. 
 And mo than I can make of mention. 
 For sothly all the mount of Citheron, 
 
 * Gave. 2 Altar. 3 a carriage-load, a large quantity. 
 
 ^ This should rather be don work. The participle of the past tima 
 IS put improperly for the infinitive mood. But the same inaccuracy 
 occurs again in v. 4591. — Tyrwhitt. 
 
 ^ Sighs. 6 Lamentations. ' Lies. 8 Expense. 
 
56 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 1939- ID'S 8. 
 
 Tlier^ Yenus liath hire principal dwelling, 
 "Was shewed on the wall in purtreying, 
 With all the gardin, and the lustinesse,^ 
 Nought was foryetten the porter idelnesse, 
 Ne Narcissus the fayre of yore agon, 
 Ne yet the lolie^ of king Salomon, 
 Ne yet the grete strengthe of Hercules, 
 Th' enchantment Oi Medea and Circes, 
 Ne of Turnus the hardy fiers corage, 
 The riche Cresus caitif in servage. 
 Thus may ye seen, that wisdom ne richesse, 
 Beaute ne sleighte, strengthe ne hardinesse, 
 Ne may with Venus holden champartie,'* 
 For as hire liste the world may she gie. 
 Lo, all these folk so caught were in hire las* 
 Til they for wo ful often said alas. 
 Sufficeth here ensamples on or two, 
 And yet I coude reken a thousand mo. 
 
 The statue of Yenus glorious for to see 
 Was naked fleting in the large see, 
 And fro the navel doun all covered was 
 With wawes grene, and bright as any gias. 
 A citole*' in hire right hand hadde she. 
 And on hire hed, ful semely for to see, 
 A rose gerlond fressh, and wel smelling, 
 Above hire hed hire doves fleckering. 
 Before hire stood hire sone Cupido, 
 Upon his shoulders winges had he two ; 
 And blind he was, as it is often sane ; 
 A bow he bare and arwes bright and kene. ♦ 
 
 Why shulde I not as wel eke tell you all 
 The purtreiture, that was upon the wall 
 Within the temple of mighty Mars the rede ? 
 All peinted was the wall in length and brede 
 Like to the estres^ of the grisl}'' place. 
 That highte the gret temple of Mars in Trace, 
 In thilke colde and frosty region, 
 Ther as Mars hath his sovereine mansion. 
 
 First on the wall was peinted a forest, 
 In which ther wonneth'^ neyther man ne best, 
 
 1 Where. This description of the temple of Venus is chiefly taken 
 from Boccacio. — See Tyrwldtt 
 
 " Mirth, gaiety. 2 Folly. 
 
 4 Partnership. 5 Xet, toils. ^ Probably a kind of dulcimer, 
 
 ^The inner parts. s Dwelt. 
 
1979-2013. THE KNIGHTES TALE. 57 
 
 With knotty knarry barrein trees old 
 Of stubbes^ sliarpe and hidoiis to behold ; 
 In which ther ran a romble and a swough,-' 
 As though a storme shuld bresten" every bough : 
 And dounward from an hill under a bent/ 
 Ther stood the temple of Mars armipotent, 
 "Wrought all of burned stele, oi which th' entrea 
 Was longe and streite^ and gastly for to see. 
 And therout came a rage and swiche a vise ;' 
 That it made all the gates for to rise. 
 The northern light in at the dore shone, 
 Tor window on the wall ne was ther none, 
 Thurgh which men mighten any light discerne. 
 The dore was all ol athament eterne, 
 Yclenched overthwart and endelong^ 
 ' With yren tough, and for to make it strong, 
 Every piler the temple to sustene 
 Was tonne-gret,^ of yren bright and shenGo 
 
 Ther saw I first the derke imagining 
 Of felonie, and alle the compassing ; 
 The cruel ire, red as any glede,^ 
 The pikepurse,^ and eke the pale drede ; 
 The smiler with the knii under the cloke, 
 The shepen^" brenning with the blake smoke 5 
 The tresen of the mordring in the bedde, 
 The open werre, with woundes all bebledde ; 
 Conteke^^ with blody knif, and sharp manace. 
 All full of chirking^'-^ was that sory place. 
 The sleer of himself yet saw I there, 
 His herte-blood hath bathed all his here:^^ 
 The naile ydriven in the shode^^ on hight, 
 The colde deth, with mouth gaping upright. 
 Amiddes of the temple sate mischance, 
 With discomfort and sory contenance. 
 
 ' Stocks. Sec Eichardson's Diet., v. stub. 
 
 2 Sound. 3 Burst. 4 Declivity. 
 
 5 In MS. A. vpye. Perhaps we should read rese, a Saxon word si.cni- 
 fying violence, impetuositif. If so, we must also read, in the next lino, 
 rese for rise, Avith MS. — Tyrwhitt. 
 
 ^ Lengthways. ' I. e., of the cii'cumference of a tun. 
 
 8 A burning coal or ember. ^ Furse-stealer, cutpursc. 
 
 10 Stable. 11 Contention. 
 
 12 Chirping like a sparrow. Here it simply denotes a disagreeable noise. 
 
 13 Hair. !■! The top hair of the head. 
 
68 THE CANTEEBURY TALES. 2013-.20M. 
 
 Yet saw I woodnesse^ laughing in Ms rage, 
 Armed complaint, ontliees," and fiers outrage ; 
 Tlie carraine^ in the bush, with throte ycorven,'* 
 A thousand slain, and not of qualme^ ystorven f 
 The thant, with the prey by force yraft;" 
 The toun destroied, ther was nothing laft. 
 Yet saw I brent the shippes hoppesteres,^ 
 The hunte^ ystrangied with the wilde beres: 
 The sow freting the child right in the cradel ; 
 The coke yscalled,'° for all his long ladel. 
 Nought was foryete^^ by th' inf ortune of Marts 
 The carter overridden with his carte ; 
 Under the wheel ful low he lay adoun. 
 
 Ther were also of Martes division, 
 Th' armerer, and the bowyer, and the smith, 
 That forgeth sharpe swerdes on his stith.^^ 
 And all above depeinted in a tour 
 Saw I conquest, sitting m gret honour, 
 With thilke sharj)e swerd over his hed^^ 
 Yhanging by a subtil twined thred. 
 Depeinted was the slaughter of Julius, 
 Of gret Nero, and of Antonius : 
 All be that thilke time they were unborne, 
 Yet was hir deth depeinted therbeforne, 
 By manacing of Mars, right by figure, 
 So it was shewed in that purtreiture 
 As is depeinted in the cercles above, 
 Who shal be slaine or elles ded for love. 
 Sufficeth on ensample in stories olde, 
 I may not ?^eken hem alle, though I wolde. 
 The statue of Mars upon a carte^^ stood 
 Armed, and loked grim as he were wood, 
 1 Madness. ^ Outcry. 3 Carrion, deaci corpses. 
 
 4 Cut. 5 Sickness. ^ Dead. " Eeft, taken away. 
 
 8 Dancers. It is needless to trouble the reader with the varioua 
 readings and interpretations of this passage. To Jwppe, in Saxon, 
 signified exactly the same as to dance, though with us it has acquired a 
 ludicrous sense; and the termination stre, or ster, was used to denote 
 a female, like trix in Latin. As, therefore, a female baker was called a 
 bakester, a female brewer a Irewester, a female webbe, or weaver, a 
 wehbester, so, I conceive, a female hopper, or dancer, Avas called an 
 hoppenter. It is well known that a ship, in most languages, is considered 
 as a female. — Tyrwhitt. 
 
 9 Hunter. lo Scalded. " Forgotten. 12 ^nvil. 
 
 i>5 An allusion to the well-known story of Damocles at the court of 
 Dionysius of Corinth. i-i Chariot. 
 
2(145-20S2. THE KXIGHTES TALE. £>9 
 
 And over liis heel ther sliinen two figures 
 Of sterres, that ben cleped in scriptures, 
 That on Puella, that other Eubeus.^ 
 This god of armes was araied thus : 
 A wolf ther stood beforne him at his fete 
 "With eyen red, and of a man he ete : 
 With subtil pensil peinted was this storie, 
 In redoubting" of Mars and of his giorie. 
 
 Now to the temple of Diane the chaste 
 As shortly as I can I wol me haste, 
 To tellen you of the descrij)tioun, 
 Depeinted by the walles up and cloun, 
 Of hunting and of shamefast chastitee. 
 Ther saw I how woful Calistope,^ 
 "Whan that Diane agreved was with here, 
 Was turned from a woman til a bere, 
 And after was she made the lodesterre : 
 Thus it was pemted, I can say no ferre ; 
 Hire sone is eke a sterre as men may see. 
 Ther saw I Dane'* yturned til a tree, 
 I mene not hire the goddesse Diane, 
 But Peneus daughter, which that highte Dane, 
 There saw I Atteon an hart ymaked, 
 For venggance that he saw Diane all naked : 
 I saw how that his houndes have him caught 
 And freten him, for that they knew him naught. 
 Yet j)einted was a litel forthermore,^ 
 How Athalante hunted the wilde bore, 
 And Meleagre, and many another mo, 
 For which Diane wroughte hem care and wo. 
 Ther saw I many another wonder storie, 
 The which me liste not drawen to memorie.^ 
 
 This goddesse on an hart f'ul heye sete, 
 With smale houndes all aboute hire fete, 
 And undernethe hire feet she hadde a mone, 
 Wexing it was, and shulde wanen sone. 
 In gaudy grene hire statue clothed was, 
 AVith bow in hond, and arwes in a cas. 
 
 1 The names cf two figures in geomancy, representing two constel- 
 lations in heaven : Fuella signifietli Mars retrograde, and Eubeus, Mara 
 direct. — Tyrwhitt, gl. 
 
 2 Eeverence. ^ Callisto. 
 
 ^ Daphne, who was turned into a laurel while escaping from the 
 embraces of Apollo. ^ Further on. 6 i do not wish to relate, 
 
 6 
 
60 THE CANTERBURY TALES. £033-2122. 
 
 Hire eyen caste she ful low adoun, 
 Ther Pluto hath his derke regioiin. 
 A woman travailling was hire beforne, 
 But for hire childe so longe was unborns 
 Ful pitously Lucina gan she call, 
 And sayed ; helpe, for thou mayst beste of all, 
 Wei coude he peinten lifly^ that it wrought, 
 With many a florein he the hewes^ bought. 
 
 Now ben these listes made, and Theseus 
 That at his grete cost arraied thus 
 The temples, and the theatre everidel,^ 
 Whan it was don, him liked wonder wel. 
 But stint I woP of Theseus a lite, 
 And speke of Palamon and of Arcite. 
 
 The day approcheth of hir returning, 
 That everich shuld an hundred knightes bring, 
 The bataille to darreine,^ as I you told ; 
 And tip Athenes, hir covenant for to hold, 
 Hath everich of hem brought an hundred knigliteSj 
 Wel armed for the werre at alle rightes.-^ 
 And sikerly^ ther trowed many a man, 
 That never, sithen that the world began, 
 As for to speke of knighthood of hir hond, 
 As fer as God hath maked see and lond, 
 N' as, of so fewe, so noble a compagnie. 
 For every wight that loved chevalrie. 
 And wold, his thankes,^ han a passant name, 
 Hath praied, that he might ben of that game, 
 And wel was him, that therto chosen was. 
 For if ther fell to-morwe swiche a cas, 
 Ye knowen wel, that every lusty knight, 
 That lovetli ijar amour, and hath his might. 
 Were it in Englelond, or elleswher, 
 They wold, hir thankes, willen to be ther. 
 To fight for a lady, a ! henedicite, 
 It were a lusty sighte for to se. 
 
 And right so ferden^^ they with Palamon. 
 With him ther wenten knightes many on. 
 Som wol ben armed in an habergeon, 
 And in a brest plate, and in a gipon -^^ 
 
 » To the life. 2 Colours. 3 Every bit. ;■* I will stop. 
 
 S Fiffht, contend. 6 xo. 7 At all points. s Surely. 
 
 Witli his good will. ^^ Fared. !' A short cassock. 
 
2133-2158. THE KNIGHTES TALE. CI 
 
 And som -wol have a pair of plates large ; 
 And som wol have a Pruce^ sheld, or a targe ; 
 Som "wol ben armed on his legges wele,^ 
 And have an axe, and som a mace of stele. 
 Ther n' is no newe guise, that it n' as"^ old. 
 Armed they weren, as I have you told, 
 Everich after his opinion. 
 
 Ther maist thou se coming with Palamon 
 Licurge himself, the grete king of Trace : 
 Blake was his herd, and manly was his faca. 
 The cercles of his eyen in his hed 
 They gioweden hetwixen yelwe and rod, 
 And like a griffon loked he about, 
 With kemped"* heres on his browes stout ; 
 His limmes gret, his braunes^ hard and stronge, 
 His shouldres brode, his armes round and longs. 
 And as the guise was in his contree, 
 Ful highe upon a char of gold stood he, 
 With foure white holies^ in the trais/ 
 Instede of cote-armure on his harnais, 
 With nayles yelwe, and bright as any gold, 
 He hadde a beres skin, cole-blake for old.^ 
 His longe here was kempt behind his bak 
 As any ravenes fether it shone for blake. 
 A wreth of gold arm-gret,^ of huge weight, 
 Upen his hed sate ful of stones bright, 
 Of fine rubins and of diamants. 
 Abut his char ther wenten white alauns,^" 
 Twenty and mo, as gret as any stere," 
 To hunten at the leon or the dere, 
 And folwed him, with moseP^ fast ybound, 
 Colered with gold, and torettes^^ filed round. 
 An hundred lordes had he in his route 
 Armed full wel, with hertes sterne and stoute. 
 
 With Arcita, in stories as men find. 
 The gret Emetrius the king of Inde, 
 
 ' Prussian. 2 ■Well. 3 jhat it is not also. 
 
 * Combed. 5 Bones. 6 Bulls. 7 Traces, 
 
 8 This somewhat reminds one of the accoutrements of a modern 
 dfagoon. 9 As thick as a man's arm. 
 
 10 A species of mastiff, much esteemed in the 14th century. They 
 were trained at Milan. " A young bullock. 12 Muzzle. 
 
 ^'^ Explained by Cotgrave to mean "the little ring," by which a 
 liawk's lure or leas/i is fastened to the jesses. They were also used to 
 liold-in dogs. 
 
62 THE CANTEEBURY TALES. 2159-2190, 
 
 Upon a stede bay, trapped in stele, 
 
 Covered with, cloth of gold diapred wele, 
 
 Came riding like the god of armes Mars. 
 
 His cote-armnre was of a cloth of Tars, 
 
 Couched^ with jDerles, white, and round and grete. 
 
 His sadel was of brent" gold new ybete; 
 
 A mantelet upon his shouldres hanging 
 
 Bret-ful of rubies red, as fire sparkling. 
 
 His crispe here like ringes was yronne,^ 
 
 And that was yelwe, and glitered as the sonns. 
 
 His nose was high, his eyen bright citrin, 
 
 His lippes round, his colour was sanguin, 
 
 A fewe fraknes"^ in his face yspreint,^ 
 
 Betwixen yelwe and blake sonidel ymeint,* 
 
 And as a leon he his loking caste. 
 
 Of five and twenty yere his age I caste. 
 
 His berd was wel begonnen for to spring ; 
 
 His vois was as a trompe thondering. 
 
 "Upon his lied he wered of laurer grene 
 
 A gerlond fresshe and lusty for to seno. 
 
 Upon his hond he bare for his deduit'' 
 
 An egle tame, as any lily whit. 
 
 An hundred lordes had he with him there. 
 
 All armed save hir hedes in all hir gere, 
 
 Pul richely in alle manere thinges. 
 
 For trusteth^ wel, that erles, dukes, kingcs 
 
 "Were gathered in this noble compagnie, 
 
 Tor love, and for encrese of chevalrie. 
 
 About this king ther ran on every part 
 
 Ful many a tame leon and leopart. 
 
 And in this wise, these lordes all and some 
 Ben on the Sonday'-^ to the citee come 
 -A.bouten prime,^° and in the toun alight. 
 
 This Theseus, this duk, this worthy knight, 
 "Whan he had brought hem into his citee. 
 And inned^^ hem, everich at his degree. 
 He festeth hem, and doth so gret labour 
 To esen^^ hem, and don hem all honour. 
 
 Trimmed. 2 Burnt, i. e. wrought by fire. 
 
 ' Run, signifying that it curled in ringlets. ■* Freckles. 
 
 * Were sprinkled. 6 Somewhat mingled. 7 Delight, pleasure 
 8 Trust ye. 9 See the remarks quoted on vs. 1852. 
 
 * Early in the morning; the first part of the day. 
 l» Lodged. 12 Make them comfortable. 
 
2197-2224. THE KNIGHTES TALE. C3 
 
 That yet men wenen that no mannes wit 
 
 Of non estat ne coud amenden^ it. 
 
 The minstralcie, the service at the feste, 
 
 The grete yeftes-' to the most and leste, 
 
 The riche array of Theseus paleis/^ 
 
 Ne who sate first ne last upon the deis, 
 
 AVhat ladies fayrest ben or best dancing, 
 
 Or which of hem can carole best or sing, 
 
 Ne who most felingly sjDeketh oi love ; 
 
 What haukes sitten on the perche above, 
 
 "What houndes liggen"^ on the floor adoun, 
 
 Of all this now make I no mentioun ; 
 
 But of the effect ; that thinketh me the beste ; 
 
 Now Cometh the point, and herkeneth if you leset. 
 
 The Sonday night, or day began to spring, 
 Whan Palamon the larke herde sing, 
 Although it n'ere not^ day by hom-es two. 
 Yet sang the larke, and Palamon right tho 
 With holy herte, and with an high corage 
 He rose, to wenden on his pilgrimage 
 Unto the blislal Citherea benigne, 
 I mene Venus, honourable and digne. 
 And in hire houre,^ he walketh forth a pas 
 Unto the listes, ther hire temple was, 
 And doun he kneleth, and with humble chere 
 And herte sore, he sayde as ye shul here. 
 
 Fayrest of fayre, o lady min Yenus, 
 Daughter to Jove, and spouse of Yulcanus, 
 
 ' Improve. 2 Gifts. 3 Palace. 
 
 ^ Lie. 5 It was not yet day. 
 
 6 And in hire houre. I cannot better illustrate Chaucer's Aslrology 
 than by a quotation from the old Kalendrier de Bergiers, edit. 1500. 
 Sign. K. ii. b. : — " Qui veult savoir comme bergieis seevent quel planets 
 regne chascune heure du jour et de la nuit, doit savoir la planete du 
 jour qui veult s'enquerir; et la premiere heure temporelle du soleil 
 levant ce jour est pour celluy planete. la seconde heure est pour la 
 planete ensuivant. et la tierce pour i'autre, &c, in the following order : 
 viz. Saturn, .Jupiter, Mars, Sol, Venus, Mercury, Luna. To apply this 
 doctrine to the present case. The first hour of the Sunday, reckoning 
 from sunrise, belonged to the sun, the planet of the day ; the second 
 to Venus, the third to Mercury, &c., and continuing this method oi 
 allotment, we shall find that the twenty-second hour also belonged to 
 the Sun, and the twenty-third to Venus ; so that the hour of Venus 
 really was, as Chaucer says, two houres before the sunrise of the fol- 
 lowing day. 
 
 Accordingly, we are told in ver. 2273, that the third hour afte! 
 
04 THE CANTERBURY TALES. £225-2254<. 
 
 Thou glader of tlie mount of Citheron, 
 For tliilke love thou haddest to Adon^ 
 Have pitee on my bitter teres smert, 
 And take myn humble praier at thin horte 
 
 Alas ! I ne have no langage to tell 
 The effecte, ne the torment of min hell ; 
 Iviin herte may min harmes not bewrey f 
 I am so confuse, that I cannot say. 
 But mercy, lady bright, that knowest vv^ele 
 My thought, and seest what harmes that I fele. 
 Consider all this, and rue upon my sore, 
 As wisly as I shall for evermore, 
 Emforth^ my might, thy trewe servant be, 
 And holden werre alway with chastite : 
 That make I min avow, so ye me helpe. 
 I kepe nought ot armes for to yelpe."^ 
 Ne axe I nat to-morwe to have victorie, 
 Ne renoun in this cas, ne vaine glorie 
 Of pris of armes, blowen np and doun, 
 But I wold have fully possessioun 
 Oi Emelie, and die in hire servise ; 
 Find thou the manere how, and in what wise. 
 I rekke^ not, but it may better be. 
 To have victorie of hem, or they of me, 
 So that I have my lady in min armes. 
 For though so be that Mars is god of armes 
 Your vertue is so grete in heven above, 
 That if you liste, I shal wel have my love. 
 Thy temple wol I worship evermo. 
 And on thin auter/ wher I ride or go, 
 
 Palamon set out for the temple of Venus, the Sun rose, dtid Emelia 
 began to go to the temple of Diane. It is not said, that this was the 
 hour of Diane, or the Moon, but it really was ; for, as we have just 
 seen, the twenty-third hour of Sunday belonging to Venus, the twenty- 
 fourth must be given to Mercury, and the first hour of Monday falls in 
 course to the Moon, the presiding planet of that day. 
 
 After this Arcite is described as walking to the temple of Mars, ver. 
 2369, in the nexte Jioure of Mars, that is, the fourth hour of the day. It 
 is necessary to take these words together, for the nexte houre, singly, 
 would signify the seco7id hour of the day ; but that, according to the 
 rule of rotation mentioned above, belonged to Saturn, as the third did 
 to Jupiter. The fourth Avas the nexte houre of Mars, that occurred after 
 the hour last named. — Tyrwhiit. 
 ' Adonis. 2 ]vfot set forth my troubles. ^ Even witht 
 
 4 Boast. 5 Care. « Altar. 
 
2355-2292. THE KNIGHTES TALE. 65 
 
 I wol don sacrifice, and sires bete.* 
 
 And if ye wol not so, my lady s wete, 
 
 Than pray T you, to-morwe with a spere 
 
 That Arcita me thurgh the herte here. 
 
 Than rekke I not, whan I have lost my lif, 
 
 Though that Arcita win hire to his wif. 
 
 This is the effecte and ende of my praiere ; 
 
 Yeve me my love, thou blisful lady dere. 
 Whan the orison was don of Palamon, 
 
 His sacrifice he did, and that anon, 
 
 Full pitously, with alle circumstances, 
 
 All tell I not as now his observances. 
 
 But at the last the statue of Venus shoke, 
 
 And made a signe, wherby that he toke, 
 
 That his praiere accepted was that day. 
 
 For though the signe shewed a delay, 
 
 Yet wist he wel that granted was his bone ; 
 
 And with glad herte he went him home ful sone. 
 The thridde houre inequaP that Palamon 
 
 Began to Yenus temple for to gon, 
 
 Up rose the sonne, and up rose Emelie, 
 
 And to the temple of Diane gan hie. 
 
 Hire maydens, that she thider^ with hire ladde, 
 
 Ful redily with hem the fire they hadde, 
 
 Th' encense, the clothes, and the remenant all. 
 
 That to the sacrifice longen'' shall. 
 
 The homes ful of mede, as was the gise, 
 
 Ther lakked nought to don hire sacrifise. 
 
 Smoking the temple, ful of clothes fayre, 
 
 This Emelie with herte debonaire 
 
 Hire body wesshe with water of a well. 
 
 But how she did hire rite I dare not tell ; 
 
 But it be any thing in general ; 
 
 And yet it were a game to heren all; 
 
 To him that meneth wel it n'ere no c ' 
 
 But it is good a man to ben at large. 
 
 Hire bright here kembed was, untressed all. 
 
 A coroune of a grene oak cerial 
 1 Prepare. 
 2 In the astrological system of the time, the day, from sunrise to sun» 
 set. and the night, from sunset to sunrise, being each divided into twelve 
 hours, it is plain that the hours of the day and night were never equal, 
 except just at the Equinoxes. The hours attributed to the Planets were 
 of this unequal sort. See Kalendrier de Berg. loc. cit., and our author's 
 treatise on the Astrolabe. — TyrwMtt. 3 Thither. 4 Belong. 
 
66 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 2293-2330. 
 
 Upon hire hed was set full fayre and mete. 
 Two fires on the auter gan she bete/ 
 And did hire thinges, as men may behold 
 In Stace- of Thebes, and these bokes old. 
 
 Whan kindled was the fire, with pitous chere 
 Unto Diane she spake, as ye may here. 
 
 O chaste goddesse of the wodes grene, 
 To whom both heven and erthe and see is sene,^ 
 Quene ol the regne of Pluto, derke and lowe, 
 Goddesse ot maydens, that min herte hast know© 
 Ful many a yere, and wost* what I desire, 
 As kepe me fro thy vengeance and thin ire. 
 That Atteon aboughte^ cruelly: 
 Chaste goddesse, wel wotest thou that I 
 Desire to ben a mayden all my lif, 
 Ne never wol I be no love ne wif. 
 I am (thou west) yet of thy compagUie, 
 A mayde, and love hunting and venerie,® 
 And for to walke in the wodes wilde, 
 And not to ben a wif, and be with childe. 
 Nought wol I knowen compagnie of man. 
 Now heljDe me, lady, sith ye may and can, 
 For tho^ three formes that thou hast in thee. 
 And Palamon, that hath swiche love to me. 
 And eke Arcite, that loveth me so sore, 
 This grace I praie thee withouten more, 
 As^ sende love and pees betwix hem two : 
 And fro me torne away hir hertes so, 
 That all hir hote love, and hir desire, 
 And all hir besy^ torment, and hir fire 
 Be queinte,^° or torned in another place. 
 And if so be thou wolt not do me grace, 
 Or if my destinee be shapen so, 
 TliatI shall nedes have on of hem two, 
 As^^ sende me him that most desireth mo. 
 
 Behold, goddesse oi clene chastite, 
 The bitter teres, that on my chekes iall. 
 Sin thou art mayde, and keper oi ns all, 
 
 J Prepare. 2 statins. ^ Beheld. 
 
 4 Knowest. ^ Suffered for. 6 Hmiting. 
 
 ^ Those. He alludes to the triple form of Hecate. 
 8 So. See the note on vs. 3172. 9 Busy. 
 
 Quenched. i^ Their. 
 
2331-2370. THE KNIGHTES TALE. 67 
 
 My maydenhed thou kep.e and wel conserve, 
 And while I hve, a mayde I wol thee serve. 
 
 The fires brenne upon the auter clere, 
 While Emelie was thus in hire praiere : 
 But sodenly she saw a sighte queinte.^ 
 For right anon on oi the fires queinte,^ 
 And quiked^ again, and after that anon 
 That other fire was queinte, and all agon: 
 And as it queinte, it made a whisteling, 
 As don these brondes"^ wet in hir brenniug. 
 And at the brondes ende outran anon 
 As it were blody dropes many on : 
 For which so sore agast was Emelie, 
 That she was wel heigh mad, and gan to crie, 
 For she ne wiste what it signified ; 
 But only for tne fere thus she cried, 
 And wept, that it was pitee for to here. 
 
 And therwithall Diane gan appere 
 "With bowe in hond, right as an hunteresse, 
 And sayde : doughter, stint thin hevinesse. 
 Among the goddes highe it is afi'ermed, 
 And by eterne word written and confermed, 
 Thou shalt be wedded unto on of tho,^ 
 That han for thee so mocheP care and wo : 
 But unto which of hem I may not tell. 
 Farewel, for here I may no longer dwell. 
 The fires which that on min auter brenne, 
 Shal thee declaren'' er that thou go henne, 
 Thin aventure of love, as in this cas. 
 
 And with that word, the arwes in the caa 
 Of the goddesse clatteren fast and ring, 
 And forth she went, and made a vanishing, 
 For which this Emelie astonied was, 
 And sayde ; what amounteth this, alas I 
 I putte me in thy protection, 
 Diane, and in thy disposition. 
 And home she goth anon the nexte way. 
 This is the efiecte, ther n'is no more to say. 
 
 The nexte houre of Mars folwing this 
 Arcite unto the temple walked is 
 
 * Strange, 2 -^^s quenched!. 
 3 Quickened, became aliTO. ^ Brands, torches. 
 
 * Those. 6 Much. ^ Inform thee. 
 
68 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 2371-2ilO. 
 
 Of fierce Mars, to don his sacrifise 
 With all the rites of his payen wise.i 
 With pitous herte and high devotion, 
 Eight thus to Mars he sayde his orison, 
 
 stronge god, that in the regnes cold 
 Of Trace" honoured art, and lord yhold. 
 And hast in every regno and every lond 
 Oi armes all the bridel in thin hond, 
 And hem fortunest as thee list devise, 
 Accept ol me mv pitons sacrifise. 
 
 li so be that my youthe may deserve, 
 And that my might be worthy ior to servo 
 Thy godhed, that I may ben on of thine, 
 Then praie I thee to rewe njDon my pine,^ 
 For thilke peine,'' and thilke hote fire, 
 In which thon whilom brendest^ for desire 
 Whanne that thou usedest the beautee 
 Of fayre yonge Yenus, freshe and free, 
 And haddest hire in armes at thy wille; 
 Although thee ones on a time misfille, 
 W^han Yulcanus had caught thee in his las,' 
 And fond the ligging by his wif, alas ! 
 For thilke sorwe that was tho in thin herte, 
 Have reuthe'' as wel upon my peines smerte. 
 
 1 am yonge and unkonning,^ as thou west, 
 And, as I trow, with love offended most 
 That ever was ony lives creature : 
 
 For she, that doth me all this wo endure, 
 Ne recceth^ never, whether I sinke or flete.^° 
 And wel I wot, or" she me mercy hete,^ 
 I moste with strengthe win hire in the vlace: 
 And wel I wot, withoutei: helpe or grace 
 Of thee, ne may my strengthe not availle : 
 Than helpe me, lord, to-morwe in my bataille. 
 For thilke fire that whilom brenned thee, 
 As wel as that this fire now brenneth me ; 
 And do, that I to-morwe may han victorie. 
 Min be the travaille, and thin be the glorie. 
 Thy soveraine temple wol I most honouren 
 Of ony place, and alway most labouren 
 
 ' Pagan fashion. 2 Thrace. 3 Have pity on my grief. 
 
 * Trouble. 5 Djdst burn. « Toils. 
 
 ^ Pity. 8 Ignorant. 9 Careth not. 
 
 io Swim, float. n Before. 12 Promise. 
 
2411-3452. THE KNIGHTES TALE. 69 
 
 In thy plesance and in thy craftes strong. 
 And in thy temple I wol my baner hong. 
 And all the armes of my compagnie, 
 And evermore, nntil that day I die, 
 Eterne fire I wol beforne thee finde, 
 And eke to this avow 1 wol me binde. 
 My herd, mj here^ that hangeth long adoun, 
 That never yet felt non offension 
 Of rasonr ne oi shere, I wol thee yeve, 
 And ben thy trewe servant Avhile I live. 
 Now, lord, have reuthe upon my sorwes sore, 
 Yeve me the victorie, I axe thee no more. 
 
 The praier stint" of Arcita the stronge, 
 The ringes on the temple dore that honge, 
 And eke the dores clattereden fill faste, 
 Of which Arcita somwhat him agaste. 
 The fires brent upon the auter bright, 
 That it gan all the temple for to light ; 
 A swete smell anon the ground up yaf,^ 
 And Arcita anon his hond up haf,^ 
 And more encense into the fire he cast, 
 "With other rites mo,^ and at the last 
 The statue of Mars began his hauberke^ I'ing; 
 And with that soun he herd a murmuring 
 Ful low and dim, that sayde thus, Victorie. 
 For which he yaf to Mars honour and glorie 
 
 And thus with joye, and hope wel to fare, 
 Arcite anon unto his inne is fare, 
 As fayn as foul is of the brighte sonne. 
 
 And right anon swiche strif ther is begonne 
 For thilke granting, in the heven above, 
 Betwixen Venus the goddesse of love, 
 And Mai^s the sterne god armipotent, 
 That Jupiter was besy it to stent :" 
 Til that the pale Saturnus the colde, 
 That knew so many of aventures olde, 
 Fond ui his olde experience and art, 
 That he ful sone hath plesed every part. 
 As sooth is sayd, elde^ hath gret avantage 
 In elde is bothe wisdom and usage : 
 Men may the old out-rennej but not out-rede.® 
 
 Saturne anon, to stenten strif and drede 
 *Hair. 2 Ceased. ^ Ga.ve. -i Lifted. 
 
 *More. OCoatofmaU. 7 To stop. ^ ^ye. 9 Outwit 
 
70 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 2453-2494. 
 
 Al be it tliat it is again his kind, 
 Of all this strif he gan a remedy find. 
 
 My dere donghter Yeniis, quod Saturne, 
 My cours, that hath so wide for to turne, 
 Hath more power than wot any man. 
 Min is the drenching in the see so wan, 
 Min is the prison in the derke cote, 
 Min is the strangel and hanging by the throte. 
 The mnrmnre, and the cherles rebelling, 
 The groyning/ and the prive empoysoning. 
 I do vengeance and pleine^ correction. 
 While I dwell in the signe of the leon. 
 Min is the mine of the highe halles, 
 The falling of the tonres and of the wallea 
 Upon the minom-,^ or the carpenter : 
 I slew Sampson in shaking the piler. 
 Min ben also the maladies colde, 
 The derke tresons, and the castes* olde: 
 My loking is the fader^ of pestilence. 
 Now wepe no more, I shal do diligence, 
 That Palamon, that is thin bwen knight, 
 Shal have his lady, as thou hast him hight. 
 Thogh Mars shal help his knight yet nathelea. 
 Betwixen you ther mot sometime be pees: 
 All be ye not of o*^ complexion. 
 That causeth all day swiche division. 
 I am thin ayel,^ redy at thy will ; 
 "Wepe now no more, I shal thy lust fulfill. 
 
 Now wol I stenten of '^ the goddes above^ 
 Of Mars, and of Venus goddesse of love, 
 And tellen you as plainly as I can 
 The gret effect, for which that I began. 
 
 Gret was the feste in Athenes thilke day, 
 And eke the lusty seson of that May 
 Made every wight to ben in swiche plesance, 
 That all that monday justen they and dance. 
 And spenden it in Venus high servise. 
 But by the cause that they shulden rise 
 Erly a-morwe for to seen the fight, 
 Unto hir reste wenten they at night. 
 
 1 Discontent. 2 Full. 3 MineFo 
 
 •* Contrivances, plot*. ^ Father. <5 Qne. 
 
 7 Grandsire. 8 Have done with. 
 
2i93-2532. THE KNIGHTES TALE. 71 
 
 And on the morwe whan the day gan spring 
 Of hors and harneis noise and clattering 
 Ther was in the hosteh^ies all abonte : 
 And to the paleis rode ther many a route* 
 Of lordes, ujDon stedes and palfreis. 
 
 Ther mayst thoii see devising of harneis 
 So nncoutlr and so riche, and wrought so wels 
 Of goldsmithry, of bronding,^ and of stele; 
 The sheldes brighte, testeres, and trappnres ; 
 Gold-hewen helmes, hanberkes, cote-armures; 
 Lordes in parementes^ on hir courseres, 
 Knightes o^ retenue, and eke squieres, 
 Nailing the speres, and helmes bokeling, 
 Gniding^ of sheldes, with lainers^ lacing ° 
 Ther as nede is, they Tferen nothing idels 
 The f omy stedes on the golden bridel 
 Gnawing, and fast the armnreres also 
 "With file and hammer priking to and fro ; 
 Yemen on foot, and communes many on 
 "With shorte staves, thicke as they may gon ; 
 Pipes, trompes, nakeres/ and clariounes, 
 That in the bataille blowen blody sounes ; 
 The paleis ful of peple up and doun, 
 Here three, ther ten, holding hir questioua, 
 Devining of these Theban j^nightes two. 
 Som sayden thus, som sayd it shal be so ; 
 Som helden with him with the blacke herd, 
 Som with the balled,^ som with he thick herd 
 Som saide he loked grimy^and wolde fighte : 
 He hath a sparth^ of twenty pound of wighte. 
 
 Thus was the halle fall oi devining 
 Long after that the sonne gan up spring. 
 The gret Theseus that of his slepe is waked 
 "With minstralcie and noise that was maked^ 
 Held yet the chambre of his paleis ricne. 
 Til that the Theban knightes bothe yliche 
 Honoured were, and to the paleis fette. 
 
 Du^ Theseus is at a window sette, 
 Araied right as he were a god in trone :^® 
 The peple preseth thiderward ful sone 
 
 1 Company. 2 Rare, uncommon, beautiful. ^ Embroideiy. 
 
 * Trappings, ornamental furniture. See on vs. 10,583. ^ Kubbing. 
 6 Straps, thongs. ^ A kind of brass drum used by the cavalry. 
 
 8 Smooth, bald. 9 An axe, or halberd. 10 Qn his throne. 
 
 7 
 
72 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 2533-25 Gt<, 
 
 Him for to seen, and don high reverence, 
 And eke to herken his heste^ and his sentence. 
 
 An heraud on a scaffold made an o,^ 
 Til that the noise of the peple was ydo : 
 And whan he saw the peple of noise al still, 
 Thus shewed he the fhighty dukes will 
 
 The lord hath of his high discretion 
 Considered, that it were destruction 
 To gentil blood, to lighten in the gise 
 Of mortal bataille now in this emprise : 
 Wherfore to shapen that they shul not die, 
 He wol his firste purpos modifie. 
 
 No man therfore, up ]Deine of losse of lif, 
 No maner shot/ ne poUax, ne short knif 
 Into the listes send, or tffider bring. 
 Ne short swerd for to stike with point biting 
 No man ne draw, ne here it by his side. 
 Ne no man shal unto his felaw ride 
 But o cours, with a sharpe ygroimden spere i 
 Foin'* if him list on foot, himself to were.^ 
 And he that is at meschief, shal be take, 
 And not slaine, but be brought unto the stake. 
 That shal ben ordeined on eyther side, 
 Thider he shal by force, and ther abide. 
 And if so fall, the chevetain be take 
 On eyther side, or elles sleth his make/ 
 No longer shal the tourneying ylast. 
 Ood spede you ; goth forth and lay on fast. 
 With longe swerd and with mase'' fighteth your fill. 
 Goth now your way ; this is the lordes will. 
 
 The vois of the peple touched to the heven, 
 So loude crieden they with mery steven:^ 
 God save swiche a lord that is so good, 
 He wilneth no destruction of blood. 
 
 Up gon the trompes and the melodie, 
 And to the listes rit^ the compagnie 
 
 ' Behest. 
 
 2 An o. It may be doubted, whether this be an abbreviation oiOyez^ 
 or whether the interjection IIo were used to command a cessation of noise, 
 as well as of fighting, &c. For the latter use, see vs. 170S, 2658, and 
 Holinshed, p. 495, The duke of Norfolke was not fullie set forward, 
 when the King cast down his warder, and the Heraldes cried, Ho, ho.— 
 Tynuhitt. 3 j^q kind of darts or missiles. 
 
 4 Make a pass ^ Defend. ^ Mate, fellow. 
 
 7 According to your fancy. ^ Voice. 9 Eode. 
 
2569-2610. THE KNIGHTES TALE. 73 
 
 By ordinance, tliiirghout tlie cite large, 
 
 Hanged with cloth of gold, and not with sarge. 
 
 Ful like a lord this noble duk gan ride, 
 
 And these two Thebans upon eyther side; 
 
 And after rode the quene and Emelie^ 
 
 And after that another compagnie 
 
 01 on and other, after hir degree. 
 
 And thus they passen thurghout the citee, 
 
 And to the listes comen they be time ; 
 
 It n'as not of the day yet fully prime. 
 Whan set was Theseus ful rich and hie, 
 
 Ipolita the quene, and Emelie, 
 
 And other ladies in degrees aboute, 
 
 Unto the setes preseth all the route. 
 
 And westward, thurgh the gates under Mart, 
 
 Arcite, and eke the hundred of his part, 
 
 With baner red, is entred right anon ; 
 
 And in the selve moment Palamon 
 
 Is, under Venus, estward in' the place. 
 
 With baner white, and hardy chere and faco. 
 
 In all the world, to seken up and doun. 
 
 So even without variatioun 
 
 Thsr n' ere swiche compagiiies never twey.* 
 
 Tor ther was non so wise that coude sey. 
 
 That any hadde of other avantage 
 
 Of worthinesse, ne of estat, ne age. 
 
 So even were they chosen for to gesse. 
 
 And in two renges^ fa5n:e they hem dresso. 
 
 Whan that hir names red were everich on. 
 
 That in hir nombre gile*^ were ther non, 
 
 Tho were the gates shette, and cried was lou^h ; 
 
 Do now your devoir, yonge knightes proude. 
 The heraudes left hir j^riking up and doun. 
 
 Now ringen trompes loud and clarioun. 
 
 Ther is no more to say, but est and west 
 
 In gon the speres sadly in the rest ; 
 
 In goth the sharpe spore"* into the side, 
 
 Ther see men who can juste, and who can ride, 
 
 Ther shiveren shaftes upon sheldes thicke ; 
 
 He feleth thurgh the herte-spone'^ the pricke. 
 
 Up sjDringen speres twenty foot on highte ; 
 
 Out gon the swerdes as the silver brighte. 
 ' Xever were two such companies. 2 Ranges. 3 Error. 
 
 * Spur. 5 Probably the concave part of the breast. — See Tyrwhitt 
 
74 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 2611-26i8, 
 
 The helmes tliey to-hewen, and to-shrede ; 
 Out brest^ tlie Iblod, with sterne- stremes rede. 
 With mighty maces the bones they to-breste.^ 
 He thurgh the thickest oi the throng gan threste. 
 Ther stomblen stedes strong, and doun goth all. 
 He rolleth under foot as doth a ball. 
 He foineth* on his too wi^h a tronchoun^ 
 And he him hurtleth^ with his hors adoun 
 He thurgh the body is hurt, and sith ytake^ 
 Maugre his hed, and brought unto the stake. 
 As forword was, right ther he must abide. 
 Another lad is on that other side. 
 And somtime doth hem Theseus to rest, 
 Hem to refresh, and drinken if hem lest. 
 
 Ful oft a day han thilke Thebanes two 
 Togeder met, and wrought eche other wo: ■ 
 Unhorsed hath eche other of hem twey. 
 Ther n'as no tigre in the vale of Galaphey,'' 
 Whan that hire whelpe is stole, whan is it lite/ 
 So cruel on the hunt, as is Arcite 
 For jalous herte upon this Palamon : 
 Ne in Belmarie ther n' is so fell leon, 
 That hunted is, or for his hunger wood, 
 Ne of his prey desireth so the blood, 
 As Palamon to sleen his foo Arcite. 
 The jalous strokes on hir helmes bite ; 
 Gut renneth blood on both hir sides rede. 
 
 Somtime an ende ther is of every dede. 
 For er the sonne unto the reste went, 
 The stronge king Emetrius gan hent^ 
 This Palamon, as he fought with Arcite, 
 And made his swerd depe in his flesh to bito. 
 And by the force of twenty is he take 
 TJnyolden, and ydrawen to the stake. 
 And in the rescous^° of this Palamon 
 The stronge king Licurge.is borne adoun: 
 And king Emetrius for all his strengthe 
 Is borne out of his sadel a swerdes lengthe, 
 
 ' Burst. 2 Cruel. 3 Burst. 
 
 4 Maketh a pass. 5 Pusheth at. ^ And therefore talcen. 
 
 7 There was a town called Galapha in Mauritania, upon the river 
 Malva, which may perhaps have given name to the vale liere meant. 
 For Belmarie, see note on v. 57. — Tyrwhitt. ^ Little. 
 
 9 Catch hold on, attach. W Kescue. 
 
 . 
 
264.&-2690. THE KNIGHTES TALE. 75 
 
 So liitte him Palamon or he were take: 
 But all for nought, he was brought to the stake : 
 His hardy herte might him helpen naught, 
 He moste abiden, whan that he was caught, 
 By force, and eke by composition.^ 
 
 Who sorweth^ now but woful Palamon ? 
 That moste no more gon again to fight. 
 And whan that Theseus had seen that fight, 
 Unto the folk that foughten thus eche on, 
 He cried, ho ! no more, for it is don. 
 I wol be trewe juge, and not partie. 
 Arcite of Thebes shal have Emelie, 
 That by his fortune hath hire fayre ywonne. 
 
 Anon ther is a noise of peple begonne 
 For joye of this, so loud and high withall, 
 It semed that the listes shulden fall. 
 
 What can now fayre Venus don above 1 
 What saith she now ? what doth this queue of love f 
 But wepeth so, for wanting of hire will, 
 Til that hire teres in the listes fill : 
 She sayde : I am ashamed doubtlees. 
 
 Saturnus sayde : Daughter, hold thy pees. 
 Mars hath his will, his knight hath all his bone. 
 And by min hed thou shalt ben esed sone. 
 
 The trompoures'* with the loude minstralcie, 
 The heraudes, that so loude yell and crie, 
 Ben in hir joye for wele of Dan^ Arcite. 
 But herkeneth me, and stenteth noise a lite 
 Whiche*^ a mu^acle ther befell anon. 
 
 This fierce Arcite hath of his helme ydon, 
 And on a courser for to shew his face 
 He priketh endelong the large place, 
 Looking ujoward upon this Emelie ; 
 And she again him cast a frendlich eye, 
 (For women, as to speken in commune. 
 They folwen all the favour of fortune) 
 And was all his in chere,^ as his in herte. 
 Out of the gTOund a fury infernal sterte. 
 From Pluto sent, at requeste of Saturne, 
 For which his hors for fere gan to turne, 
 And lepte aside, and foimdred as he lepe : 
 And er that Arcite may take any kepe,^ 
 
 * According t'^ ..greement. 2 Sorroweth. SBoon. 
 
 * Trumpeteri. ^ Lord. * What. 7 Countenance. 8 Care. 
 
76 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 2691-2732. 
 
 He pigM^ him on the pomel of his hed, 
 
 That in the place he lay as he were ded, 
 
 His brest to-brosten^ with his sadel bow. 
 
 As blake^ he lay as any cole or crow, 
 
 So was the blood yronnen in his face. 
 Anon he was yborne ont of the place 
 
 With herte sore, to Theseus paleis. 
 
 Tho was he corven out of his harneis, 
 
 And in a bed ybrought ful fayre and blive/ 
 
 For he was yet in memorie, and live, 
 
 And alway crying after Emelie. 
 Duk Theseus, with all his compagni^ 
 
 Is comen home to Athenes his citee. 
 
 With alle blisse and gret solempnite. 
 
 Al be it that this aventure was falle. 
 
 He n'olde not discomforten hem alle. 
 
 Men sayden eke, that Arcite shal not die. 
 
 He shal ben heled oi his maladie. 
 
 And of another thing they were as fayn. 
 
 That of hem alle was ther non yslain, 
 
 Al were they sore yhurt, and namely on, 
 
 That with a spere was thirled his brest bone. 
 
 To other woundes, and to broken armes, 
 
 Som hadden salves, and som hadden charmes 
 
 And fermacies' of herbes, and eke save*^ 
 
 They dronken, for they wold hir lives have. 
 
 For which this noble duk, as he wel can^ 
 
 Comforteth and honoureth every man, 
 
 And made revel all the longe night, 
 
 Unto the strange lordes, as was right, 
 
 Ne ther n'as holden no discomforting, 
 
 But as at justes or a tourneying ; 
 
 For sothly ther n'as no discomiiture, 
 
 For falling n'is not but an aventure. 
 
 Ne to be lad by force unto a stake 
 
 XJnyolden, and with twenty knightes take, 
 
 O person all alone, withouten mo, 
 
 And haried'^ forth by armes, foot, and too. 
 
 And eke his stede driven forth with staves. 
 
 With footmen, bothe yemen and eke knaves, 
 
 It was aretted^ him no vilanie : 
 
 Ther may no man clepen it cowardie, 
 tntched. 2 Burst. 3 Black. 4 Quick, 
 
 ' Medicines. ^ Sage. 7 Hurriecl. ^ AccountedL 
 
2733-2770. THE KNIGHTES TALE. 77 
 
 For wliich anon diik Tlieseus let crie. 
 
 To stenten alle rancour and envie, 
 
 The gree^ as -wel of o side as of other, 
 
 And eyther side ylike, as others brother: 
 
 And yave hem giftes after hir degree. 
 
 And helde a feste fully dayes three : 
 
 And conveyed the kinges worthily 
 
 Out of his toun a journee largely. 
 
 And home went every man the righte way, 
 
 Ther n'as no more, but farewel, have good day. 
 
 Of this bataille I wol no more endite, 
 
 But speke of Palamon and of Arcite. 
 
 Swelleth the brest of Arcite, and the sor© 
 Encreseth at his herte more and more. 
 The elotered blood, for^ any leche-craft, 
 Corrumpeth/ and is in his bouke ylaft,"* 
 That neyther veine-blood, ne ventousing,* 
 Ne drinke of herbes may ben his helping. 
 The vertue expulsif, or animal, 
 Fro thilke vertue cleped natural, 
 Ne may the venime voiden, ne expelL 
 The pipes of his longes gan to swell, 
 And every lacerte^ in his brest adoun 
 Is shent-^ with venime and corruptioun. 
 Him gaineth^ neyther, for to get his lif, 
 Yomit upward, ne dounward laxatif ; 
 All is to-brosten^ ihilke region ; 
 Nature hath now no domination. 
 And certainly ther nature wol not werche,^*^ 
 Farewel physike ; go bere the man to cherche.'* 
 This is all and som,^"^ that Arcite moste die. 
 For which he sendeth after Emelie, 
 And Palamon, that was his cosin dere. 
 Than sayd he thus, as ye shuln after here. 
 
 Nought may the woful spirit in myn herte 
 Declare o point of all my sorwes smerte 
 To you, my lady, that I love most ; 
 But I bequethe the service of my gost^^ 
 
 ' Prize. 2 Despite. 3 Corrupts. 
 
 4 Left in his body. 5 Cupping. 
 
 6 A fleshy muscle, so called from its supposed resemblance to the tail 
 of a lizard {lacerta). 7 Ruined. 8 Profiteth. 
 
 9 Burst. 'O^York. "Church. 12 xhe sum totaL 
 
 13 Spirit, ghost. 
 
/8 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 2771-28ia 
 
 To you aboven every creature, 
 
 Sin that my lif ne may no lenger dure. 
 
 Alas the wo ! alas the peines stronge, 
 That I for you have suffered, and so longe! 
 Alas the deth ! alas min Emelie ! 
 Alas departmg oi our compagnie ! 
 Alas min hertes queue I alas my wif ! 
 Min hertes ladie, ender oi my lif ! 
 What is this world? what axen men to have? 
 Now with his love, now in his colde grave 
 Alone withouten any compagnie, 
 Farewel my swete, farewel min Emelie, 
 And softe take me in your armes twey, 
 For love oi God, and herkeneth what I sey. 
 
 I have here with my cosin Palamon 
 Had strif and rancour many a day agon 
 For love of you, and for my ialousie. 
 And Jupiter so wis my soule gie,^ 
 To speken oi a servant proprely, 
 With alle circumstances trewely. 
 That is to sayn, trouth, honour, and knightheds 
 Wisdom, humblesse, estat, and high kinrede, 
 Fredom, and all that longeth^ to that art, 
 So Jupiter have of my soule part. 
 As in this world right now ne know I non. 
 So worthy to be loved as Palamon, 
 That serveth you, and wol don all his lif. 
 And if that ever ye shal ben a wif, 
 Foryete^ not Palamon, the gentil man. 
 
 And with that word his speche laille begaij» 
 For from his feet up to his brest was come 
 The cold of deth, that had him overnome. 
 And yet moreover in his armes two 
 The vital strength is lost, and all ago. 
 Only the intellect, withouten more. 
 That dwelled in his herte sike and sore^ 
 Gan faillen, whan the herte felte deth ; 
 Dusked his eyen two, and failled his breth. 
 But on his ladie yet cast he his eye ; 
 His laste word was ; Mercy, Emelie ! 
 
 1 So willed to guide my soul. 
 
 2 BQlongeth. 3 Forget. 
 
SSll-2848. THE KNIGHTES TALE. 79 
 
 His spirit changed hous, and "wente ther. 
 
 As I came never I cannot tellen wher.^ 
 
 Therfore I stent, I am no divinistre j 
 
 Of soules find I not in this registre. 
 
 Ne me lust not th' opinions to telle 
 
 Of hem, though that they writen wher they dwelle, 
 
 Arcite is cold, ther Mars his soule gie. 
 
 Now wol I speken forth of Emelie. 
 
 Shright" Emelie, and houleth^ Palamon, 
 And Theseus his sister toke anon 
 Swouning, and bare hire from the corps away. 
 What helpeth it to tarien^ forth the day. 
 To tellen how she wep both even and morwe ? 
 For in swiche cas whnmen have swiche sorwe/ 
 Whan that hir housbonds ben fro hem ago. 
 That for the more part they sorwen^ so, 
 Or elles fallen in swiche maladie, 
 That atte laste certainly they die. 
 
 Infinite ben the sorwes and the teres 
 Ojl olde folk, and folk of tendre yeres, 
 In all the toun for deth of this Theban : 
 For him ther wepeth bothe childe and man. 
 So gret a weping was ther non certain, 
 Whan Hector was ybrought, aU fresh yslaia 
 To Troy, alas ! the pitee that was there, 
 Cratching of chekes, rending eke of here. 
 Why woldest thou be ded ? thise women crie. 
 And liaddest gold 3aiough, and Emelie. 
 
 No man might gladen this duk Theseus, 
 Saving his olde fader Egeus, 
 That knew this worldes transmutatioun, 
 As he had seen it chaungen up and doun, 
 Joye after wo, and wo after giadnesse ; 
 And shewed htm ensample and likenesse. 
 
 Bight as'' ther died never man (quod he) 
 That he ne lived in erthe in som degree, 
 Eight so ther lived never man (he seyd) 
 In all this world, that somtime he ne deyd. 
 
 Shakspere is equally cautious in making a like assertion, in Macbeth :— 
 " Hear it not, Duncan, for it is a knell 
 That summons thee to heaven, or to hell." 
 2 Shrieks. 3 Howleth. 4 Tarry. 5 Sorrow. 
 
 ^ Sorrow, grieve. 7 Just as, even as. 
 
80 THE CANTEKBURY TALES. 2S49-2SSS. 
 
 This world n'is but a thurghfare ful of wo 
 And we ben pilgrimes, passing to and fro : 
 Deth is an end of every worldes sore. 
 
 And over all this yet said he mochel more 
 To this effect, ful wisely to enhort^ 
 The peple, that they shuld hem recomfort. 
 
 Duk Theseus with all this besy cure^ 
 He easteth now, wher that the sepulture 
 Of good Arcite may best ymaked be, 
 And eke most honourable in his degree. 
 And at the last he toke conclusion. 
 That ther as first Arcite and Palamon 
 Hadden for love the bataille hem betwene, 
 That in that selve grove, sote^ and grene, 
 Ther as he hadde his amorous desires, 
 His complaint, and for love his hote fires, 
 He wolde make a fire, in which the office 
 Of funeral he might all accomplise ; 
 And lete^ anon commando to hack and hew© 
 The okes old, and lay hem on a rew 
 In culpons,^ wel araied for to brenne. 
 His officers with swifte feet they renne^ 
 And ride anon at his commandement. 
 And after this, this Theseus hath sent 
 After a bere,^ and it all overspradde 
 With cloth of gold, the richest that he hadde; 
 And of the same suit he cladde Arcite. 
 Upon his hondes were his gloves white, 
 Eke on his hed a croune of laurer grene, 
 And in his hond a swerd ful bright and kene. 
 He laid him bare the visage on the here, 
 Therwith he wept that pitee was to here. 
 And for the peple shulde seen him alle. 
 Whan it was day he brought him to the halle, 
 That roreth of the crying and the soun. 
 
 Tho came this woful Theban Palamon 
 With flotery^ berd, and ruggy asshy heres. 
 In clothes blake,'' ydropped all with teres, 
 And (passing over of weping Emelie) 
 The reufuUestt^" of all the compagnie. 
 
 * Encourage. 2 Care. 3 Sweet. 
 
 4 Left. 5 Logs. 6 Run. 
 
 7 Bier. ^ Floatings. 9 Block. ^o Most sorrowing, 
 
2SS9-292S. THE KNIGHTES TALE. 81 
 
 And in as much as the service shuld be 
 The more noble and riche in his degree, 
 Duk Theseus let forth three stedes bring, 
 That trapped were in stele all glittering, 
 And covered with the armes of Dan^ Arcite. 
 And eke upon these stedes gret and white 
 Ther sateh'^ folk, of which on bare his sheld, 
 Another his spere up in his hondes held ; 
 The thridde bare with him his bow Turkeis, 
 Of brent gold was the cas and the harneis: 
 And riden forth a pas with sorweful chere 
 Toward the grove, as ye shul after here. 
 
 Th& noblest of the Grekes that ther were 
 Upon hir shuldres carrieden the bere^ 
 With slacke pas/ and eyen red and wete, 
 Thurghout the citee, by the maister strete. 
 That sprad was all with black, and wonder hio 
 Eight of the same is all the strete ywrie. 
 Upon the right hand went olde Egeus, 
 And on that other side duk Theseus, 
 With vessels in hir hond of gold ful fine, 
 All ful of hony, milk, and blood, and wine; 
 Eke Palamon, with ful gret compagnie : 
 And after that came woful Emelie, 
 With fire in hond, as was that time the gise. 
 To don the ofiice of funeral service. 
 
 High labour, and ful gret apparailling 
 Was at the service of that fire making. 
 That with his grene top the heven raught,^ 
 And twenty fadom of brede^ the armes straught :^ 
 This is to sain, the boughes were so brode. 
 Of stre^ first ther was laied many a lode. 
 
 But how the fire was maked up on highte, 
 And eke the names how the trees highte. 
 As oke, fir, birch, aspe, alder, holm, poplere, 
 Wilow, elm, plane, ash, box, chestein,*^ lind,^ laurere, 
 IMaple, thorn, beche, hasel, ew, whipultre,^" 
 How they were feld, shal not be told for me; 
 ITe how the goddes rannen up and doua 
 Disherited of hir habitatioun, 
 
 » Lord. 2 Sate. 3 Pace. 
 
 * Keached. s Breadth. " Extended. 
 
 7 Straw. 8 Chesnut. ' i<iaden. 
 W See Appendix, 
 
82 THE CANTEEBURY TALES, 2929-3960 
 
 In whicli they -woneden^ in rest and pees, 
 Nimphes, Faiines, and Amadriades ; 
 Ne how the bestes, and the briddes^ alle 
 Fledden for fere, whan the wood gan falle ; 
 Ne how the ground agast was of the light, 
 That was not wont to see the sonne bright ; 
 Ne how the fire was couched first with stre,^ 
 And than with drie stickes cloven a-thre, 
 And than witl- grene wood and spicerie, 
 And than with cloth of gold and with j)errie,'* 
 And gerlonds hanging with ful many a flour, 
 The mirre/ th' encense also with swete odour; 
 Ne how Arcita lay among all this, 
 Ne what richesse about his body is ; 
 Ne how that Emelie, as was the gise, 
 Put in the fire oi funeral service ; 
 Ne how she swouned^ whan she made the fire, 
 Ne what she spake, ne what was hir desire ; 
 ■ Ne what jewelles men in the fire caste. 
 
 Whan that the fire was gret and brente faste ; 
 Ne how som cast hir sheld, and som hir spere, 
 And of hir vestimentes, which they were. 
 And cuppes full of wine, and milk, and blood, 
 Into the fire, that brent as it were wood ; 
 Ne how the Grekes with a huge route 
 Three times riden all the fire aboute 
 Upon the left hond, with a loud shouting, 
 And thries with hir speres clatering ; 
 And thries how the ladies gan to crie ; 
 Ne how that led was homeward Emelie ; 
 Ne how Arcite is brent to ashen cold; 
 Ne how the liche-wake'' was yhold 
 
 » Dwelt. 2 Birds. 3 straw. 
 
 4 Jewels, precious stones. ^ Myrrh, ^ Fainted, 
 
 7 The custom of watching with dead bodies (lice. SAX.) is probably very 
 ancient in this country. It was abused, as other Wakes and Vigila 
 were. See Du Cange, in v, Vigill^. In vigiliis circa corpora mor- 
 tuorum vetantur chorece et cantilence, seculares ludi et alii turpes et fatid. 
 Synod. Wigorn. an. l^JiO, c. 5. Chaucer seems to have confounded the 
 Wake-plays, as they were called, of his own time with the Funeral- 
 games of the Antients. So in Troilus, v. 303, Troilus says to Fandarus, 
 But of the fire and flambe funeral 
 In which my body brennen shall to glede 
 And of the feste and playes palest ral 
 At my vigile I pray thee take good hede. — Tyrwhiit. 
 
1961-3003. THE KNIGHTES TALE. 83 
 
 All thilke night, ne liow the Grekes play. 
 The wake-plaies ne kepe I not to say : 
 Who wrestled best naked, with oile enoint, 
 Ne who that hare him best in no disjoint.^ 
 I woll not tellen eke how they all gon 
 Home til Athenes whan the play is don ; 
 But shortly to the point now wol I wende, 
 And maken of my longe tale an ende. 
 
 By processe and by lengthe of certaui yeres 
 All stenten- is the mourning and the teres 
 Of Grekes, by on general assent. 
 Than semeth me ther was a parlement 
 At Athenes, uj)on certain points and cas : 
 Amonges the which points yspoken was 
 To have with certain contrees alliance, 
 And have of Thebanes fully obeisance. 
 For which this noble Theseus anon 
 Let senden after gentil Palamon,, 
 Unwist of him, what was the cause and why 
 But in his blacke clothes sorwefuUy 
 He came at his commandement on hie ; 
 Tho sente Theseus for Emelie. 
 
 Whan they were set, and husht was al the place, 
 And Theseus abiden hath a space, 
 Or^ any word came from his wise brest 
 His eyen set he ther as was his lest, 
 And with a sad visage he siked still, 
 And after that right thus he sayd his will. 
 
 The firste mover of the cause above 
 Whan he firste made the fayre chaine of love, 
 Gret was th' effect, and high was his entent ; 
 Wei wist he why, and what therof he ment : 
 For with that fayre chaine oi love he bond^ 
 The fire, the air, the watre, and the lond 
 In certain bondes, that they may not flee : 
 That same prince and mover eke (quod he) 
 Hath stablisht, in this wretched world adoun, 
 Certain of dayes and dm-ation 
 To all that are engendred in this place. 
 Over the which day they ne mow^ not pace, 
 Al mow they yet dayes wel abrege. 
 Ther nedeth non autoritee allege, 
 
 ^ "With no disadvantage. 2 stopped. 
 
 5 Before that. 4 Bound. 6 Must. 
 
84 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 3003-3044, 
 
 For it is preved by experience, 
 But that me lust^ declaren my sentence. 
 Than may men by this ordre wel discerni^ 
 That thilke mover stable is and eterne. 
 Wei may men knowen, but it be a fool, 
 That every part deriveth from his hool.^ 
 For nature hath not taken his beginning 
 Of no partie ne canteP of a thing, 
 But of a thing that parfit is and stable, 
 Descending so, til it be corrumpable.* 
 And therfore of his wise purveyance 
 He hath so wel beset his ordinance, 
 That speces of thinges and progressions 
 Shullen enduren by successions. 
 And not eterne, withouten any lie : 
 This maiest thou understand and seen at eye. 
 Lo the oke, that hath so long a norishing 
 Fro the time that it ginneth first to spring, 
 And hath so long a lif, as ye may see, 
 Yet at the laste wasted is the tree. 
 Considereth eke, how that the harde stone 
 Under our feet, on which we trede and gon, 
 It wasteth, as it lieth by the wey. 
 The brode river somtime wexeth drey.^ 
 The grete tounes see we wane and wende. 
 Than may ye see that all thing hath an ends. 
 Of man and woman see we wel also, 
 That nedes in on o. the termes two. 
 That is to sayn, in youthe or elles age, 
 He mote be ded, the king as shall a page; 
 Som in his bed, som in the depe see, 
 Som in the large feld, as ye may see : 
 Ther helpeth nought, all goth that ilke wej 
 Than may I sajni that alle thing mote dey. 
 "What maketh this but Jupiter the king ? 
 The which is prince, and cause of alle thing, 
 Converting alle unto his propre wille, 
 From which it is derived, soth to telle. 
 And here-againes no creature on live^ 
 Of no degree availleth for to strive. 
 Than is it wisdom, as it thinketh me, 
 To maken vertue of necessite, 
 
 1 I wish to declare. ^ whole. ^ Fragmeat 
 
 < Corruptible. •'' Dry. 6 Alive. 
 
3015-3084. , THE KN"IGHTES TALE. 85 
 
 And take it wel, that ■we may not eschewe, 
 
 And namely that to lis all is dewe. 
 
 And who so grutcheth^ ought, he doth folie, 
 
 And rebel is to him that all may gie.^ 
 
 And certainly a man hath most honour 
 
 To dien in his excellence and flour, 
 
 Whan he is siker of his goode name. 
 
 Than hath he don his frend, ne him, no shame; 
 
 And glader ought his frend ben of his deth, 
 
 Whan with honour is yolden^ up his breth, 
 
 Than whan his name a^Dpalled is for age ; 
 
 For all foryetten is his vassallage. 
 
 Than is it best, as for a worthy fame, 
 
 To dien whan a man is best of name. 
 
 The contrary of all this is wilf ulnesse. 
 
 Why grutchen we ? why have we hevinesse, 
 
 That good Arcite, ol chivalry the flour, 
 
 Departed is, with dutee and honour, 
 
 Out of this foule prison of this lif ? 
 
 Why grutchen here his cosin and his wif 
 
 Of his welfare, that loven him so wel ? 
 
 Can he hem thank ? nay, God wot, never a del. 
 
 That both his soule, and eke hemself offend, 
 
 And yet they mow hir lustes not amend. 
 
 What may I conclude of this longe serie, 
 But after sorwe I rede us to be merie,^ 
 And thanken Jupiter of all his grace. 
 And er that we departen from this place, 
 I rede that we make of sorwes two 
 O parfit joye lasting evermo : 
 And loketh now wher most sorwe is herein, 
 Ther wol I firste amenden and begin. 
 
 Sister, (quod he) this is my full assent. 
 With all th' avis here of my parlement. 
 That gentil Palamon, your owen knight, 
 That serveth you with will, and herte, and might. 
 And ever hath don, sin ye first him knew, 
 That ye shall of your grace upon him rew,* 
 And taken him for husbond and for lord : 
 Lene me your hand, for this is cure accord. 
 
 > Grudgetli. 2 Guide. 3 Yielded. 
 
 4 I opiue that we should be merry. 5 Take compassion. 
 
8Q THE CANTERBURY TALES. 3085-3110. 
 
 Let see now of your womanly pitee. 
 He is a kinges brothers sone pardee/ 
 And though he were a poure bachelere, 
 Sin he hath served you so many a yere, 
 And had for you so gret adversite, 
 It moste ben considered^ leveth me.^ 
 Por gentil mercy oweth to passen^ right. 
 
 Than sayd he thus to Palamon the knight ; 
 I trow ther nedeth litel sermoning 
 To maken you assenten to this thing. 
 Cometh ner, and take your lady by the hond. 
 
 Betwixen hem was maked anon the bond. 
 That highte matrimoine or mariage, 
 By all the conseil of the baronage. 
 And thus with alle blisse and melodie 
 Hath Palamon ywedded Emelie. 
 And God that all this wide world hath wroug!it. 
 Send him his love, that hath it dere ybouglit. 
 For now is Palamon in alle wele, 
 Living in blisse, in richesse, and in hele, 
 And Emelie him loveth so tendrely, 
 And he hire serveth al so gentilly, 
 That never was ther no word hem betwene 
 Of jalousie, ne of non other tene."^ 
 
 Thus endeth Palamon and Emelie ; 
 And God save all this fayre compagnie. 
 
 « Pardieux, by God. 2 Believe me. 
 
 ^ To judge, to pass seatence. * Grief, vexatioa. 
 
 m 
 
87 
 
 THE MILLERES PROLOGUE. 
 
 3111-3140. 
 
 Whan that the Knight had thus his tale told. 
 In all the compagnie n'as ther yong ne old, 
 That he ne said it was a noble storie, 
 And worthy to be drawen to memorie ; 
 And namely the gentiles everich on. 
 Our hoste lough and swore, So mote I gon. 
 This goth aright; imbokeled is the male;^ 
 Let see now who shal tell another tale : 
 Tor trewely this game is wel begonne. 
 Now telleth ye, sire Monk, if that ye conne, 
 Somwhat, to quiten with the knightes tale. 
 
 The Miller that for-dronken was all pale, 
 So that imethes^ upon his hors he sat, 
 He n'old avalen^ neither hood ne hat, 
 "Ne abiden no man for his curtesie, 
 But in Pilate vois" he gan to crie, 
 And swore hy armes, and by blood, and bones, 
 I can a noble tale for the nones, 
 "With which I wol now quite the knightes tale. 
 
 Our hoste saw that he was dronken of ale. 
 And sayd ; abide, Eobin, my leve brother, 
 Som better man shall tell us first another : 
 Abide, and let us werken thriftily. 
 
 By Goddes soul (quod he) that wol not I, 
 For I wol speke, or elles go my way. 
 
 Our hoste answerd ; Tell on a devil way ; 
 Thou art a fool ; thy wit is overcome. 
 
 Now herkeneth, quod the miller, all and some : 
 But first I make a protestatioun^ 
 That I am dronke, I know it by my soun: 
 
 ' The budget is opened. 2 Uneasily. 3 To take off, to doff. 
 
 4 In Pilates vois. In such a voice as Pilate was used to speak with in 
 the Mysteries. Pilate, being an odious character, was probably repre- 
 sented as speaking with a harsh, disagreeable voice. — Tyrwhitt. 
 
88 THE OANTEEBURY TALES. 3141-317'!^ 
 
 And tlierf ore if tliat I misspeke or say, 
 
 "Wite^ it the ale of South werk, I you pray : 
 
 For I wol tell a legend and a lif 
 
 Both of a carpenter and of his wif, 
 
 How that a clerk hath set the wrightes cappe,^ 
 
 The Eeve answerd and saide, Stint thy clappe. 
 Let be thy lewed dronken harlotrie. 
 It is a sinne, and eke a gret folie 
 To apeiren^ any man, or him defame, 
 And eke to bringen wives in swiche a name. 
 Thou mayst ynough of other thinges sain. 
 
 This dronken miller spake ful sone again, 
 And sayde ; Leve brother Osewold, 
 Who hath no wif> he is no cokewold. 
 . But I say not therfore that thou art on ; 
 Ther ben ful goode wives many on. 
 "Why art thou angry with my tale now ? 
 I have a wif parde* as wel as thou, 
 Yet n'olde I, for the oxen in my plough, 
 Taken upon me more than ynough 
 As demen of myself that I am on ; 
 I wol beleven wel that I am non. 
 An husbond shuld not ben inquisitif 
 Of Goddes privite, ne of his wif. 
 So he may finden Goddes foison^ there, 
 Of the remenant nedeth not to enquere. 
 
 What shuld I more say, but this millere. 
 He n'olde his wordes for no man forbere. 
 But told his cherles tale in his manere. 
 Me thinketh, that I shal reherse it here. 
 And thertore every gentil wight I pray, 
 Eor Goddes love as deme nof* that I say 
 Of evil entent, but that I mote i-eherse 
 Hir tales alle, al be they better or werse, 
 
 ' Blame the ale for it. 3 Made the fool of Mm. 
 
 3 Impair, injure. ^ Pardieux. ^ Abundance. 
 
 6 This phrase has occurred before: ver, 2304, As kepe mc. Ver. 
 2319, As sende. I once thought that as in these cases was used ellip* 
 tically for do so much as; but then the following verb must have been 
 in the infinitive mood, whereas it is often in the imperative. See ver. 
 5773,Astaketh. Ver 6631, As doth. Ver.13,352, Asbeth. lam there- 
 fore rather inclined to understand it in the sense of so, according to it3 
 original etymology. As is an abbreviation of als, and that of al swa ; 
 sic. oinnhio. See ver. 5481, 5778, 7007. — Tyrwhitt. 
 
3175-3206. THE MILLERE3 TALE. 89 
 
 Or elles falsen som of my matere. 
 And tlierfore who so list it not to here, 
 Turne over the leef, and chese another tale, 
 For he shal find ynow bothe gret and smale. 
 Of storial thing that toiicheth gentillesse, 
 And eke moralite, and holinesse. 
 Blameth not me, if that ye chese amis. 
 The miller is a cherl, ye know wel this, 
 So was the reve, (and many other mo) 
 And harlotrie they tolden bothe two. 
 Aviseth you now, and put me out of blame ; 
 And eke men shuld not make ernest of game. 
 
 Wit piller^s fule. 
 
 Whilom ther was dwelling in Oxenforde 
 
 A riche gnof,^ that gestes helde to borde, 
 
 And of his craft he was a carpenter. 
 
 With him there was dwelling a poure scoler, 
 
 Had lerned art, but all his fantasie 
 
 "Was turned for to lerne astrologie, 
 
 And coude a certain of conclusions 
 
 To demen^ by interrogations, 
 
 If that men asked him in certain houres, 
 
 Whan that men shulde have drought or elles shoures : 
 
 Or if men asked him what shulde falle 
 
 Of every thing, I may not reken alle. 
 
 This clerk was cleped hendy^ Nicholas ; 
 Of derne'* love he coude and of solas f 
 And therto he was slie and ful prive,*^ 
 And like a maiden moke for to se. 
 A chambre had he in that hostelrio 
 Alone, withouten any compagnie, 
 Ful fetisly^ ydight with herbes sote,^ 
 And he himself was swete as is the rote' 
 
 * Cuff. See Tyrwhitt's glossary. 2 Judge, determine. 
 
 8 Courteous. 4 Secret. 5 Mirth, sport. 
 
 6 Private. 7 Neatly. 8 Sweet. » Root. 
 
90 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 3207-3236. 
 
 Of licoris, or any setewale.^ 
 His almageste^^ and bokes gret and smale, 
 His astrelabre, longing for his art, 
 His augrim^ stones, layen faire aparte 
 On shelves couched at his beddes hed, 
 His presse ycovered with a falding red. 
 And all above ther lay a gay santrie, 
 On which he made on nightes melodie, 
 So swetely, that all the chambre rong: 
 And Angelus ad virginem he song. 
 And after that he song the kinges note ;■* 
 Ful often blessed was his mery throte. 
 And thus this swete clerk his time spent 
 After his frendes finding^ and his rent. 
 
 This carpenter had wedded new a wif, 
 Which that he loved more than his lif : 
 Of eightene yere she was I gesse of age. 
 Jalous he was, and held hire narwe in cage, 
 Por she was wild and yonge, and he was old. 
 And demed himself belike a cokewold. 
 He knew not Caton,'' for his wit was rude, 
 That bade a man shulde wedde his similitude. 
 Men shulden wedden after hir estate. 
 For youthe and elde is often at debate. 
 But sithen he was fallen in the snare, 
 He most endure (as other folk) his care. 
 
 Fayre was this yonge wif, and therwithal 
 As any wesel hire body gent and smal. 
 A seint'' she wered, barred all of silk, 
 A barme-cloth^ eke as white as morwe milk 
 
 1 The herb valerian. 
 
 2 The " Great Syntax" of Ptolemy, an astronomical treat's?, the 
 Greek name of which has been corrupted by the Arabs into almagesthi. 
 <—Tyrwhitt, gl. 
 
 3 Pebbles, or counters, used for numeration. The word is a corrup- 
 tion of the Arabic " algorithm." 
 
 4 The kinges note. What this note, or tune, was, I must leave to be 
 explained by the musical antiquaries. Angelus ad virginem, I suppose, 
 was Ave Maria, &c. — Tyridiitt. ^ I. e. supplying. 
 
 6 The calling of this author Caton, shows that he was more studied 
 in French than in Latin. See below, ver. 9251, 14,946, 16,155. Who 
 he was, or of what age, is uncertain : but his authority, four or five 
 hundred years ago, seems to have been as great as if he had really been 
 the famous censor of Eome. However, the maxim here alluded to is 
 not properly one of Cato's, but I find it in a kind of supplement to the 
 moral distichs. — TyrwMtt. 7 Girdle. ^ Apron. 
 
3237-3262. THE MILLERES TALE. 91 
 
 Upon hire lendes,^ ful of many a gore.^ 
 
 White was hire smok, and brouded all before 
 
 And eke behind on hire colere^ aboute 
 
 Of cole-black silk, within and eke withouto. 
 
 The tapes of hire white volupere^ 
 
 Were of the same suit of hhe colere ; 
 
 Hire fillet brode of silk, and set full hye : 
 
 And sikerly she had a likerous eye. 
 
 Ful smal ypuUed were hire browes two, 
 
 And they were bent, and black as any slo. 
 
 She was wel more blisful on to see 
 
 Than is the newe perjenete^ tree ; 
 
 And softer than the woUe is of a wether. 
 
 And by hu-e gu-del heng a purse of lether, 
 Tasseled with silk, and perled with latoun.*" 
 In all this world to seken up and doun 
 Ther n'is no man so wise, that coude thenclie 
 So gay a popelot,' or swiche a wenche. 
 Ful brighter was the shining of hire hewe, 
 Than in the tour the noble yforged newe. 
 But of hire song, it was as loud and yerne,^ 
 As auyswalow sitting on a berne.^ 
 Therto she coude skip, and make a game, 
 As any kid or calf folowing his dame. 
 Hire mouth was swete as braket^'' or the meth,^* 
 Or hord of apples, laid in hay or heth.^^ 
 
 ' Loins. 
 
 3 It has been suggested to me by a learned person, whom I have not 
 the honour to know, that gore is a common name for a slip of cloth or 
 linen, which is inserted in order to widen a garment in any particular 
 place. GooR of a cloth. — Liicinia, Prompt. Parr. See also tlie 
 glossary to Kennet's Paroch. Antiq. in V. Gore. This sense will suit 
 very well with the context of ver. 3237, but hardly I think with that of 
 ver. 13,719 ; unless we suppose that gore is put here for shirt, because 
 shirts have usually gores in them. This expression would certainly be 
 very aM'kward, and unlike Chaucer's general manner, but in this place, 
 the Rime of Sire Topas, he may be supposed to have taken it purposely 
 from one of those old romances which are the objects of his ridicule.— 
 Tyrwhitt. 
 
 3 Collar. 4 ^ woman's cap. 5 a young pear. 
 
 6 Ornamented with latoun in the shape of pearls. Laton was a kind 
 of mixed metal. 
 
 7 Young butterfly, or puppet, according to its derivation. 
 
 8 Brisk, fresh. 9 Bam. 
 1° A sweet drink made of the wort of ale, honey, and spice. 
 
 " Mead. 12 Heath. 
 
92 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 3363-3298. 
 
 "Winsing she was, as is a joly colt, 
 Long as a mast, and npriglit as a bolt. 
 A broche she bare upon hire low colere, 
 As brocle as is the bosse of a bokelere. 
 Hire shoon were laced on her legges hie ; 
 She was a primerole,^ a piggesme,^ 
 For any lord to liggen in his bedde, 
 Or yet for any good yeman to wedde. 
 
 Now sire, and eft sire, so befell the cas, 
 That on a day this hendy^ Nicholas 
 Fel with this yonge wif to rage and pleye. 
 While that hire husbond was at Oseney, 
 As clerkes ben ful subtil and ful queint. 
 And prively he caught hire by the queint, 
 And sayde ; Ywis, but if I have my will, 
 For derne^ love of thee, lemman,^ I spill.'' 
 And helde hire faste by the hanche bones, 
 And sayde ; Lemman, love me wel at ones, 
 Or I wol dien, al so God me save. 
 
 And she sprong as a colt doth in the trave 'J 
 And with hire hed she writhed faste away, 
 And sayde ; I wol not kisse thee by my fay. 
 Why let be, (quod she) let be, Nicholas, 
 Or I wol crie out harow^ and alas. 
 Do way your hondes for your curtesie. 
 
 This Nicholas gan mercy for to crie. 
 And spake so faire, and profered him so fast, 
 That she hire love him granted at the last, 
 And swore hire oth by Seint Thomas of Kent, 
 That she wold ben at his commandement, 
 Whan that she may hire leiser wel espie. 
 Myn husbond is so ful of jalousie, 
 That but ye waiten wel, and be prive, 
 I wot right wel I n'am but ded, quod she. 
 Ye mosten be ful derne as in this cas. 
 
 Nay, therof care you not, quod Nicholas: 
 
 ' A primrose. 
 
 ■2 The Eomans used oculus as a term of endearment, and perhaps 
 piggesnie, in vulgar language, only means ocellus; the eyes of that animal 
 being remarkably small. — Tyrwhitt. 
 
 3 Courteous. ■* Secret. ^ jjy love. 6 i perish. 
 
 7 A frame, in which restive horses are put to steady them. ' 
 
 8 Aloud, something like of " Hallo !" But see Tyrwhitt. 
 
3299-3328. THE MILLERES TALE. 93 
 
 A clerk had litherly^ beset his while, 
 But if he coude a carpenter begile. 
 And thus they were accorded and ysworne 
 To waite a time, as I have said beforne. 
 Whan Nicholas had don thus every del, 
 And thacked hire about the lendes wel, 
 He kissed hu^e swete, and taketh his sautrie. 
 And plaieth fast, and maketh melodie. 
 
 Than fell it thus, that to the parish chercha 
 (Of Cristes owen werkes for to werche)^ 
 This good wif went upon a holy day : 
 Hire forehed shone as bright as any day, 
 So was it washen, wha,n she lete hire werk. 
 
 Now was ther of that chirche a pari3h clerk, 
 The which that was ycleped Absolon. 
 CruUe^ was his here, and as the gold it shon, 
 And strouted* as a fanne large and brode ; 
 Ful streight and even lay his joly shode.^ 
 His rode^ was red, his eyen grey as goos. 
 With Poules windowes^ corven on his shoos. 
 In hosen red he went ful fetisly. 
 Yclad he was ful smal and proprely, 
 All in a kirtel of a light waget f 
 Ful faire and thicke ben the pointes set. 
 And therupon he had a gay surplise. 
 As white as is the blosme upon the rise.' 
 
 A mery child he was, so God me save ; 
 Wei coud he leten blod, and clippe, and shave, 
 And make a chartre^° of lond, and a quitance. 
 In twenty manere coud he trip and dance, 
 
 ' 111. 2 Work, do. 
 
 3 Curled. < Strutted. 
 
 5 Pair. 6 Complexion. 
 
 7 Perhaps this means, that his shoes were cut in squares, like panes of 
 glass. Bale -mentioTis fenestratos calceos as making part of the habit of 
 the habit of the Franciscans. Cent. iv. 27 and 91. They also occur in 
 the Cistercian Statutes an. 1529, and the monks are forbidden to wear 
 them. Du Cange, in v. Calcei fenestrati. — Tyrwhitt. 
 
 8 Or, Watchet. Skinner explains Watchet to mean a colour, a whitish 
 blue; but in this place it seems rather to mean some kind of cloth; 
 denominated, perhaps, from the town of Watchet, in Somersetshire. 
 Instead of <7^/2^, some MSS.read^w; and MS. A. whit. This last epithet 
 vrouldbe quite inconsistent with Skinner's explanation. — Tyrwhitt. 
 
 • Small twigs or bushes. lo Charter. 
 
94 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 3329-33G4. 
 
 (After tlie scole of Oxenforde tlio)'- 
 And with his legges casten to and fro ; 
 And playen songes on a smal ribible f 
 Thereto he song somtime^ a lond quinible. 
 And as wel coud he play on a giterne. 
 In all the toun n'as brewhous ne taverne. 
 That he ne visited with his solas, 
 Ther as that any gaillard^ tapstere'^ was. 
 But soth to say he was somdel sqiiaimous® 
 Of farting, and of speche dangerous. 
 
 This Absolon, that joly was and gay, 
 Goth with a censer on the holy day. 
 Censing the wives of the parish faste ; 
 And many a lovely loke he on hem caste. 
 And namely on this carpenteres wif : 
 To loke on hire him thought a mery lif. 
 She was so propre, and swete, and likerous. 
 I dare wel sain, if she had ben a mou.s, 
 And he a cat, he wolde hire hente' anon. 
 
 This parish clerk, this joly Absolon, 
 Hath in his herte swiche a love-longing, 
 That of no wif toke he non offering ; 
 For curtesie, he sayd, he n'olde non. 
 
 The moone at night ful clere and brighte slion, 
 And Absolon his giterne hath ytake, 
 For paramours^ he thoughte for to wake. 
 And forth he goth, jolif and amorous 
 Til he came to the carpenteres hous, 
 A litel after the cockes had ycrow. 
 And dressed him up by a shot^ window, 
 That was upon the carpenteres wal. 
 He singeth in his vois gentil and smal ; 
 Now, dere lady, — if thy wille be,-^° 
 I pray you that ye — wol rewe^^ on me ; 
 Ful wel wel accordant to his giterning. 
 
 This carpenter awoke, and herd him sing, 
 
 ' The school of Oxford seems to have been in much the same estima- 
 tion for its dancing as that of Stratford for its French. See before, 
 ver. 125. Oxenforde is a Quadrisyllable. Oxnaforda. S.\x. — Tyruhitt. 
 
 2 What instrument this was, is not known. 
 
 3 /. e., sometimes to. The quinible was also a musical instrument. 
 '^ Gay. 5 X female keeper of a tap, or tavern. 
 
 6 Squeamish. 7 Seize. s Lovers. 9 Shut. 
 
 M These two verses should probably form four short lines. — Tyrwhitt. 
 
 " Take pity. 
 
3365-3402. 1'HE MILLEEES TALE. S.5 
 
 And spake -unto his -wif^ and said anon, 
 What, Alison, heres thou not Absolon, 
 That chanteth thus under our boures^ ^^^al ? 
 And she answerd hire husbond therewithal ; 
 Yes, God wot, John, I here him every del. 
 
 This passeth forth ; what wol ye bet than wcl 
 Fro day to day this joly Absolon 
 So loveth hire, that him is wo-begon. 
 He waketh all the night, and all the day, 
 He kembeth his lockes brode, and made him gay, 
 He woeth hire by menes and brocage," 
 And swore he wolde ben hu^e owen page. 
 He singeth brokking^ as a nightingale. 
 He sent hire j)innes, methe, and spiced ale, 
 And wafres piping hot out of the glede -.^ 
 And for she w^as of toun, he jorofered mede. 
 For som folk wol be wonnen for richesse, 
 And som for strokes, and som with gentillesse. 
 
 Somtime to shew his lightnesse and maistrie 
 He plaieth Herode on a skaffold hie.° 
 But what availeth him as in this cas ? 
 So loveth she this hendy Nicholas, 
 That Absolon may blow the buckes home :® 
 He ne had for his labour but a scorne. 
 And thus she maketh Absolon hire ape, 
 And all his ernest turneth to a jape. 
 Ful soth is this proverbe, it is no lie ; 
 Men say right thus alway ; the neighe slie^ 
 Maketh oft time the fer"^ leef to be lothe. 
 For though that Absolon be wood^ or wrothe, 
 Because that he fer was fromhu-e sight, 
 This neighe Nicholas stood in his light. 
 
 Now here thee wel, thou hendy Nicholas^ 
 For Absolon may waile and sing alas. 
 
 And so befell that on a Saturday, 
 This carpenter was gon to Osenay, 
 And hendy Nicholas and Alison 
 Accorded ben to this conclusion^ 
 
 ' House. 2 By go-betweens and agents. 
 
 3 Quivering, -J Tlie embers. 
 
 5 This is much in character. The parish -clerks had always a principal 
 share in the representation of mysteries. — Tyrwhiit. 
 
 ^ I. e., fail, profit nothing. 7 Cunning one. 
 
 8 Distant. 9 lilad. 
 9 
 
96 THE CANTERBURY TALES. iJ4.03-344!3. 
 
 That Nicliolas shal shapen him a wile 
 This sely^ jaloiis husbond to begile ; 
 And if so were the game went aright, 
 She shuld slepe in his armes alle night, 
 Tor this was hire desire and his also. 
 And right anon, withouten wordes mo, 
 This Nicholas no lenger wolde tarie, 
 But doth ful softe unto his chambre carie 
 Both mete and drinke for a day or twey. 
 
 And to hu'e husbond bad hire for to sey, 
 If that he axed after Nicholas, 
 She shulde say, she n'iste not wher he was ; 
 Of all the day she saw him not with eye. 
 She trowed he was in som maladie. 
 For for no crie hire maiden coud him calle 
 He n'olde answer, for nothing that might falle. 
 
 Thus passeth forth all thilke Saturday, 
 That Nicholas still in his chambre lay, 
 And ete, and slept, and dide what him list 
 Til Sonday, that the sonne goth to rest. 
 
 This sely carpenter hath gret mervaile 
 Of Nicholas, or what thing might him aile, 
 And said ; I am adrad^ by Seint Thomas 
 It stondeth not aright with Nicholas ; 
 God shilde that he died sodenly. 
 This world is now ful tikeP sikerly. 
 I saw to-day a corps yborne to cherche. 
 That now on Monday last I saw him werche. 
 
 Go up (quod he unto his knave) anon ; 
 Clepe^ at his dore, or knocke with a ston : 
 Loke how it is, and tell me boldely. 
 
 This knave goth him wp ful sturdely. 
 And at the chambre dore while that he stoorf, 
 He cried and knocked as that he were wood i 
 What how ? what do ye, maister Nicholay 1 
 How may ye slepen all the longe day ? 
 But all for nought, he herde not a word. 
 An hole he fond ful low upon the bord, 
 Ther as the cat was wont in for to crepe. 
 And at the hole he loked m ful depe, 
 
 » Silly. 2 Fearful. 
 
 » Uncertain. * Call. 
 
S44-3-347S. THE MILLERES TALE. 97 
 
 And at the last lie had oi him a sight. 
 
 This Nicholas sat ever gaping upright, 
 As he had kyked^ on the newe mone. 
 
 Adown he goth, and telleth his maister sone. 
 In what array he saw this ilke man. 
 
 This carpenter to blissen him began, 
 And said ; Now helpe us Seinte Frideswide.^ 
 A man wote litel what shal him betide. 
 This man is fallen with his astronomie 
 In som woodnesse^ or in som agonie. 
 I thought ay wel how that it shulde be. 
 Men shulde not knowe of Goddes privetee. 
 Ya blessed be alway a lewed man. 
 That nought but only his beleve* can= 
 So ferd another clerk with astronomie ; 
 He walked in the feldes for to prie 
 Upon the sterres, what ther shuld beftiUe, 
 Til he was in a marlepit yialle,^ 
 He saw not that. But yet by Seint Thomas 
 Me reweth sore oi hendy Nicholas; 
 He shal be rated oP his studying, 
 If that I may, by Jesus heven king. 
 
 Get me a staf, that I may underspore'' 
 While that thou, Eobin, he vest of the dore: 
 He shal out oi his studying, as I gesse. 
 And to the chambre dore he gan him dresse. 
 His knave was a strong carl for the nones. 
 And by the haspe he hai it oi at ones ; 
 Into the flore the dore fell anon. 
 
 This Nicholas sat ay as stille as ston. 
 And ever he gaped upward into the eire. 
 
 This carpenter wend he were in despeire. 
 And hent him by the shulders mightily, 
 And shoke him hard, and cried spitously; 
 What, Nicholas ? what how man 1 loke adoun 
 Awake, and thinke on Cristes passioun. 
 
 ^ Gazed, i. e., as if he were moonstruck. 
 
 2 This is very apposite. For St. Frideswide was the patroness of a 
 priory at Oxford, upon the same site as the present cathedral of Christ- 
 ehurch. 3 Madness. 
 
 ^ /. e., that knows nothing but his Creed. 
 
 5 A similar story is told of Thales. 
 
 6 Ohided for studying too much. 7 Raise it up. 
 
98 THE CANTEEBURY TALES. 3479-3500, 
 
 I croiiclie^ tliee from elves, and from wiglites.^ 
 
 Tlierwith tlie nightspel said he anon rigiites, 
 
 On fonre halves of the lions aboute, 
 
 And on the threswold oi the dore withoiite. 
 
 Jesu Crist, and Seint Benedight,^ 
 
 Blisse this hous from every wicked wight. 
 
 Fro the nightes mare, the wite Pater-noster ; 
 
 Wher wonest thon Seint Peters snster 
 
 And at the last this hendy Nicholas 
 Gan for to siken sore, and said ; Alas ! 
 Shal all the world be lost eftsones now? 
 
 This carpenter answered ; What saiest thou ? 
 "What ? thinke on God, as we do, men that swinke.'* 
 
 This Nicholas ansv/ered ; Fetch me a drinke ; 
 And after wol I speke in privetee 
 Of certain thing that toncheth thee and me : 
 I wol tell it non other man certain. 
 
 This carpenter goth doun, and cometh again, 
 And brought of mighty ale a large quart ; 
 And whan that eche of hem had dronken his part, 
 This Nicholas his dore faste shette, 
 And doun the carpenter by him he sette, 
 
 ' I make the sign of the cross to guard thee from. etc. 
 
 2 Witches. In the Teutonic, Wite-vrouwe ; but whether they were so 
 called from their Wisdom, or from their being supposed to he clothed in 
 ivhite, is not clear. A icidoia in that language is called a Wit-vrouwe 
 from the latter circumstance. In Keysler's Dissertation de MztUeribus 
 Fatidicis, he has traced, with a great deal of learning and probability, 
 the popular notions of witches and witchcraft, in the northern parts of 
 Europe, from a very early period. The faculty of floating on the water, 
 so as not to be capable of being drowned, is ascribed by Pliny to a race 
 of male witches in Pontus. — TyrwMtt. 
 
 3 The charm, which follows, ver. 348S — 6, is so lamely represented ia 
 all the MSS., that I have left it as I found it in the common editions. It 
 might perhaps be a little improved by reading it thus : 
 
 Jesu Crist and Seint Benedight 
 Blisse this hous from every wight, 
 Fro the nightes mare, Pater-noster. 
 Wher wonest thou Seint Peter's suster? 
 
 In ver., 2, wicked may be left out upon the authority of MS. A. and 
 others. It is certainly unnecessary. Pater-noster was often repeated in 
 the middle, as well as at the end, of charms. In ver. 4, instead of wonest, 
 some copies read wendest. I do not understand how the Night-mare 
 came to be allied to St. Peter. 
 
 To say the truth, I suspect this charm to be an interpolation.— ; 
 Tyrwhitt. 4 Labour. 
 
3501-3540. THE MILLERES TALE. S9 
 
 And saide ; Jolin, min hoste lefe and dere, 
 T^ou shalt upon thy trouthe swere me here, 
 That to no wight thou shalt my conseil wrey 
 For it is Cristes conseil that I say, 
 And if thou tell it man, thou art forlore : 
 For this vengeance thou shalt have therfore, 
 That if thou wreye^ me, thou shalt be wood. 
 
 Nay, Crist forbede it for his holy blood 
 Quod tho this sely man ; I am no labbe,- 
 Ne though I say it, I n'am not lefe to gabbe. 
 Say what thou wolt, I shal it never telle 
 To child ne wif, by him that harwed^ helle. 
 
 Now, John, (quod Nicholas) I wol not lie, 
 I have yfounde in min astrologie, 
 As I have loked in the moone bright. 
 That now on Monday next, at quarter night, 
 Shal fall a rain, and that so wild and wood 
 That half so gret was never Noes flood. 
 This world (he said) in less than in an houre 
 Shal al be dreint,'^ so hidous is the shoure : 
 Thus shal mankinde drenche, and lese hir lifl 
 
 This carpenter answerd ; Alas my wif ! 
 And shal she drenche ? alas min Alisoun ! 
 For sorwe of this he fell almost adoun, 
 And said, Is ther no remedy in this cas ? 
 
 Why yes, for God, quod hendy Nichola 
 If thou wolt werken after lore-^ and rede ; 
 Thou maist not werken after thin owen hede. 
 For thus saith Salomon, that was ful trewe ; 
 Werke all by conseil, and thou shalt not rewe. 
 And if thou werken wolt by good conseil, 
 I undertake, withouten mast or seyl. 
 Yet shal I saven hire, and thee and me. 
 Hast thou not herd how saved was Noe, 
 "Whan that our Lord had warned him beforne. 
 That al the world with water shuld be lorne 1 
 
 Yes, (quod this carpenter) ful yore ago. 
 
 Hast thou not herd (quod Nicholas) also 
 The sorwe of Noe with his felawship,*^ 
 Or that he might get his wif to ship ] 
 
 1 Betray. 2 Blab. 
 
 3 Harrowed, i. e., conquered, subdued. ^ Drenched. 5 Advice. 
 
 6 Some legend is alluded to, for the Bible says nothing on the subject. 
 Tyrwhitt observes : " The dispute between Noah and his wife upon this 
 
1 
 
 100 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 354 
 
 Him had be lever, I dare wel undertake, 
 At thilke time, than all his wethers blake/ 
 That she had had a ship hireseli alone. 
 And theriore wost thou what is best to done ? 
 This axeth hast/ and of an hastit thing- 
 Men may not preche and maken tarjing. 
 Anon go get ns fast into this in 
 A kneding trough or elles a kemelyn,^ 
 For eche of us ; but loke that they ben large, 
 In which we mowen swimme as in a barge: 
 And have therin vitaille suffisant 
 But for a day; fie on the remenant; 
 The water shall aslake and gon away 
 Abouten prime upon the nexte day. 
 But Eobin may not wete of this, thy knave, 
 Ne eke thy mayden Gille I may not save : 
 Axe not why : for though thou axe me, 
 I wol not tellen Goddes privetee. 
 Suffieeth thee, but if thy wittes madde, 
 To have as gret a grace as ISToe hadde. 
 Thy wif shal I wel saven out of doute. 
 Go now thy way, and spede thee hereaboute. 
 
 occasion makes a considerable part of the 3rd Pageant of the Chester 
 Whitsun-Playes above mentioned. MS. Harl, 2013. The following lines 
 Will shew the grounds of her refusal to embark. 
 
 J^OE. "Wife, come in, why standes thou there? 
 Thou art ever froward, that dare I swere. 
 Come in on Godes haife ; tyme it were. 
 
 For fear lest that wee drowue. 
 "Wife. Yea, Sir, set up your saile. 
 And rowe forth with evil haile, 
 Tor withouten anie faile 
 
 I wil not oute of this toune ; 
 But I have my gossepes everich one. 
 One foote further I will not gone : 
 They shal not drown by St. John, 
 
 And I may save ther life. 
 They loved me full well by Christ. 
 But thou will let them into tliie chist, 
 Ellis rowe forthe, Noe, when thou list, 
 
 And get thee a newe wife. 
 
 At last Sem, with the assistance of his brethren, fetches her on board by 
 force, and upon Noah's welcoming her she gives him a box on the ear." 
 1 Black. 2 Kequireth haste. 3 Xub. 
 
3565-3606. THE MILLERES TALE. 101 
 
 But wtan tliou hast for hire, and thee, and me 
 Ygeten us these kneding tubbes thre, 
 Than shalt thou hang hem in the roofe ful hie, 
 That no man of our purveyance espie : 
 And whan thou hast don thus as I have said, 
 And hast our vitaille faire in hem ylaid, 
 And eke an axe to smite the cord a-two 
 Whan that the water cometh, that we may go. 
 And breke an hole on high upon the gable 
 Unto the gardin ward, over the stable, 
 That we may frely passen forth our way, 
 "Whan that the grete shoure is gon away. 
 Than shal thou swim as mery, I undertake, 
 As doth the white doke after hire drake r 
 Than wol I clepe, How Alison, how John, 
 Be mery: for the flood wol passe anon. 
 And thou wolt sain, Haile maister Nicholay, 
 Good morwe, I see thee wel, for it is day. 
 And than shall we be lordes all our lif 
 Of all the world, as Noe and his wif. 
 But of o thing I warne thee ful right, 
 Be wel avised on that ilke night, 
 That we ben entred into shippes bord, 
 That non of us ne speke not o word, 
 Ne clepe ne crie, but be in his praiere, 
 For it is Goddes owen heste dere. 
 
 Thy wif and thou moste hangen fer a-twinne^ 
 For that betwisen you shal be no sinne, 
 "No more in loking than ther shal in dede. 
 This ordinance is said; go, God thee spede 
 To-morwe at night, whan men ben all asiepe, 
 Into our kneding tubbes wol we crepe, 
 And sitten ther, abiding Goddes grace. 
 Go now thy way, I have no lenger space 
 To make of this no lenger sermoning : 
 Men sain thus: send the wise, and say nothings 
 Thou art so v/ise, it nedeth thee nought teche. 
 Go, save our lives, and that I thee beseche. 
 
 This sely carpenter goth forth his way, 
 Ful oft he said alas, and wala wa, 
 And to his wif he told his privetee, 
 And she was ware, and knew it bet than he 
 What all this queinte cast was for to sey. 
 But natheles she ferde as she would dey. 
 
102 THE CANTERBURY TALES 3607-3646. 
 
 And said ; Alas I go forth tliy way anon. 
 Helpe us to scaj)e, or we be ded echo on. 
 I am thy trewe veray wedded wif ; 
 Oo, dere si^ouse, and helpe to save our lit 
 
 Lo, what a gret thing is affection. 
 Men may die of imagination, 
 So depe may impression be take. 
 This sely carpenter beginneth quake: 
 Him thinketh veraily that he may see 
 Noes flood comen walwing^ as the see 
 To drenchen Alison, his hony dere. 
 He wepeth, waileth, maketh sory chere ; 
 He siketh, with ful many a sory swough.^ 
 He goth, and geteth him a kneding trough, 
 And after a tubbe, and a kemelin, 
 And prively he sent hem to his in : 
 And heng hem in the roof in privetee. 
 His owen hond^ than made he ladders three, 
 To climben by the renges and the stalkes^ 
 Unto the tubbes honging in the balkes f 
 And vitailled bothe kemelin, trough and tubbe^ 
 With bred and chese, and good ale in a jubbe, 
 Sufficing right ynow as for a day. 
 
 But er that he had made all this array, 
 He sent his knave, and eke his wenche also 
 Upon his nede to London for to go. 
 And on the Monday, whan it drew to night. 
 He shette his dore, withouten candel light. 
 And dressed all thing as it shulde bee. 
 And shortly up they clomben alle three. 
 They sitten stille wel a furlong way. 
 Kow, Pater noster, clum,^ said Nicholay: 
 And clum, quod John, and clum, said Alison: 
 This carpenter said his devotion. 
 And still he sit, and biddeth his praiere, 
 Awaiting on the rain, if he it here. 
 
 The dede slepe, for wery besinesse, 
 Fell on this carpenter, right as I gesse, 
 Abouten curfew-time, or litel more. 
 For travaille of his gost^ he groneth sore, 
 ' Rolling. 2 Sound. 3 py i^jg own hand. 
 
 * /. e. The steps and upright posts oi a ladder. 5 xhe rafters. 
 
 * Mum. From the Latin inussitare, to mumble, to mutter. 
 
 ^ Spirit. 
 
3Gi7-36S8. THE MILLERES TALE. 103 
 
 And eft lie roiitetli, for his lied mislay. 
 "Doun of the ladder stalketh Nicliolay, 
 And Alison ful soft adonn hire spedde 
 Withouten wordes mo they went to hedde, 
 Ther as the carpenter was wont to lie ; 
 Ther was the revel, and the melodie. 
 And thus lith Alison, and Nicholas, 
 In besinesse of mirtlie and in solas. 
 Til that the bel of laudes gan to ring, 
 And freres^ in the chancel gon to sing. 
 
 This parish clerk, this amorous Absolon, 
 That is for love alway so wo-begon. 
 Upon the Monday was at Osenay 
 With compagnie, him to disport and play ; 
 And asked upon cas a cloisterer 
 Eul prively after John the carpenter ; 
 And he drew him apart out of the chirche. 
 He said, I n'ot ; I saw him not here wirche 
 Sith Saturday ; I trow that he be went 
 For timbre, ther our abbot hath him sent. 
 For he is wont for timbre for to go. 
 And dwellen at the Grange a day or two: 
 Or elles he is at his hous certain. 
 Wher that he be, I cannot sothly sain. 
 
 This Absolon ful joly was and light, 
 And thoughte, now is time to wake al night, 
 For sikerly, I saw him nat stu-ing 
 About his dore, sin day began to spring. 
 So mote T thrive, I shal at cockes crow 
 Ful prively go knocke at his window. 
 That stant ful low upon his boures wall: 
 To Alison wol I now tellen all 
 My love-longing ; for yet I shall not missGj 
 That at the leste way I shall hire kisse. 
 Some maner comfort shal T have parfay, 
 My mouth hath itched all this longe day: 
 That is a signe of kissing at the leste. 
 All night me mette eke, I was at a teste. 
 Therfore I will go slepe an houre or twey, 
 And all the night than wol I wake and pley. 
 
 Whan that the firste cock hath crowe, anon 
 Up rist this joly lover Absolon, 
 
104: THE CANTERBUKY TALES. 3689-3730. 
 
 And liim arayeth. gay, at point devise. 
 But first he cheweth grein and licorise, 
 To smellen sote, or he had sj^oke with here. 
 Under his tonge a trewe love^ he here, 
 Tor therby wend he to ben gracious. 
 He Cometh to the carpenteres hous, 
 And still he stant under the shot window; 
 Unto his brest it raught,^ it was so low ; 
 And soft he cougheth with a semisoun. 
 
 What do ye honycombe, swete Alisoun? 
 My fiiire bird, my swete sinamome, 
 Awaketh, lemman min, and speketh to me. 
 Ful litel thinken ye ujDon my wo, 
 That for your love 1 swete ther as I go. 
 No wonder is though that I swelte and swete, 
 I mourne as doth a lamb after the tete. 
 Ywis, lemman, I have swiche love-longing, 
 That like a turtel trewe is my mourning. 
 I may not ete no more than a maid. 
 
 Go fro the window, jacke fool, she said; 
 As helpe me God, it wol not be, compame.^ 
 I love another, or elles I were to blame, 
 "Wei bet than thee by Jesu, Absolon. 
 Go forth thy way, or I wol cast a ston ; 
 And let me slepe ; a twenty div^el way, . ., 
 
 Alas ! (quod Absolon) and wala wa ! 
 That trewe love was ever so yvel besette: 
 Than kisse me, sin that it may be no bette, 
 For Jesus love, and for the love ol me. 
 
 Wilt thou than go thy way therwith? quoa sne. 
 Ya certes, lemman, quod this Absolon. 
 Than make thee redy (quo(] she) I come anon. 
 
 This Absolon doun set him on his knees, 
 • And saide ; I am a lord at all degrees : 
 Tor after this I hope ther cometh more ; 
 Lemman, thy grace, and, swete bird, thjm ore.'* 
 
 The window she undoth, and that in haste. 
 Have don, (quod she) come of, and spede thee faste, 
 Lest that our neigheboures thee espie. 
 
 This Absolon gan wipe his mouth f al drie. 
 Derke was the night, as pitch or as the cole, 
 And at the window she put out hke hole, 
 
 1 What this can be, I know not. 2 Reached. 
 
 2 Companion, friend. ^ Grace. 
 
S731-3773. THE MtLLERES TALE. 105 
 
 And Absolon liim felle ne bet ne wers, 
 . But with his moutli he kist hire naked ers 
 Ful savorly, er he vrns ware of this. 
 
 Abak he sterte, and thoughte it was amis, 
 For wel he wist a woman hath no herd. 
 He felt a thing all rowe, and long yherd, 
 And saide ; fy, alas ! what have I do ? 
 
 Te he, quod she, and clapt the window to ; 
 And Absolon goth forth a sory pas. 
 
 A herd, a herd, said hendy Nicholas ; 
 By goddes corpus, this goth faire and wel. 
 
 This sely Absolon herd every del, 
 And on his lippe he gan for anger bite ; 
 And to himself he said, I shal thee quite. 
 Who rubbeth now, who Iroteth now his lippes 
 With dust, with sond, with straw, with cloth, with 
 But Absolon ? that saith full oft, alas ! [chippes, 
 
 My soule betake I unto Sathanas, 
 But me were lever than all this toun (quod he) 
 Ot this despit awroken for to be. 
 Alas ! alas ! that I ne had yblent. 
 His hote love is cold, and all yqueint. 
 For fro that time that he had kist hire ers 
 Of paramours ne raught he not a kers, 
 For he was heled of his maladie ; 
 Ful often paramours he gan defie. 
 And wepe as doth a child that is ybete. 
 A softe pas he went him over the strete 
 Until a smith, men callen dan Gerveis, 
 That in his forge smithed plow-harneis ; 
 He sharpeth share and cultre besily. 
 This Absolon knocketh all esily, 
 And said ; Undo, Gerveis, and that anon. 
 
 What, who art thou ? It am I Absolon. 
 What, Absolon, what ? Cristes swete tre/ 
 Why rise ye so rath?'- ey henedicite, 
 What eileth you? some gay girle, God it wote. 
 Hath brought you thus upon the viretote '? 
 By Seint Neote, ye wote wel what I mene. 
 
 This Absolon ne raughte not a bene 
 Of all his play ; no word again he yaf. 
 He hadde more tawe on his distaff 
 
 1 1, e., the cross, 2 Early, 
 
 8 The meaning of this word is unknown. 
 * I, e., he was planning mora. 
 
106 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 8773-31 
 
 Than Gerveis knew, and saide ; Trend so dere, 
 That hote culter in the cheminee here 
 As lene^ it me, I have therwith to don ; 
 I wol it bring again to thee f'ul sone. 
 
 Gerveis answered ; Certes, were it gold, 
 Or in a poke" nobles all untold, 
 Thon shuldest it have, as I am trewe smith. 
 Ey, Cristes foot, what wol ye don therwith? 
 Therof, qnod Absolon, be as be may; 
 I shal wel tellen thee another day : 
 And canght the culter by the colde stele. 
 Tul soft out at the dore he gan to stele, 
 And went unto the carpenteres wall. 
 He coughed first, and knocked therwithall 
 U23on the window, right as he did er. 
 
 This Alison answered ; Who is ther 
 That knocketh so ? I warrant him a thefe. 
 Nay, nay, (quod he) God wot, my swete lefe, 
 I am thin Absolon, thy dereling. 
 Of gold (quod he) I have thee brought a ringj 
 My mother yave, it me, so God me save, 
 Ful fine it is, and therto wel ygrave : 
 This wol I yeven thee, if thou me kisse. 
 
 This Nicholas was risen for to pisse. 
 And thought he wolde amenden all the jape, 
 He shulde kisse his ers er that he scajpe : 
 And up the window did he hastily, 
 And out his ers he putteth prively 
 Over the buttok, to the hanche bon. 
 And therwith spake this clerk, this Absolon, 
 Speke swere bird, I n'ot not wher thou art. 
 
 This Nicholas anon let fleen a fart, 
 As gret as it had ben a thonder dint, 
 That with the stroke he was wel nie yblint; 
 And he was redy with his yren hote, 
 And Nicholas amid the ers he smote. 
 
 Off goth the skinne an hondbrede al aboute* 
 The hote culter brenned so his toute. 
 That for the smert he wened for to die ; 
 As he were wood, lor wo he gan to crie, 
 Help, water, water, help for Goddes herte. 
 
 This carpenter out of his slomber sterte, 
 
 » WUt lend. 2 pouch. 
 
5-3852. THE MILLEEES TALE. 107 
 
 And herd on crie water, as he were wood, 
 And thought, alas, now cometh Noes flood 
 He set him np withouten wordes mo, 
 And with his axe he smote the cord at wo ; 
 And donn goth all ; he fond neyther to sells 
 ISTe breed ne ale, til he came to the selle,^ 
 Upon the flore, and ther aswoune he lay. 
 
 Up sterten Alison and Nicholay, 
 And crieden, out and harow ! in the strete. 
 
 The neighebonres bothe smale and grete 
 In rannen, for to ganren- on this man, 
 That yet aswoime lay, bothe pale and wan : 
 For with the fall he brosten hath his arm. 
 But stonden he must unto his owen harm. 
 For whan he spake, he was anon bore doun 
 "With hendy Nicholas and Alisoun. 
 They tolden every man that he was wood!^ 
 He was agaste so of Noes flood 
 Thurgh fantasie, that of his vanitee 
 He had ybought him kneding tubbes threej, 
 And had hem honged in the roof above ; 
 And that he praied hem for Goddes love 
 To sitten in the roof ^ar compagnie. 
 
 The folk gan laughen at his fantasie. 
 Into the roof they kyken,"* and they gape, 
 And turned all his harm into a jape. 
 For what so that this carj)enter answerd, 
 It was for nought, no man his reson herd. 
 With othes gret he was so sworne adoun, 
 That he was holden wood in all the toun. 
 For everich clerk anon right held with other ; 
 They said, the man was wood, my leve brother | 
 And every wight gan laughen at this strif. 
 
 Thus swived was the carj)enteres wif, 
 For all his keping, and his jalousie ; 
 And Absolon hath kist hire nether eye ; 
 And Nicholas is scalded in the toute. 
 This tale is don, and God save all the route. 
 
 1 The ground. 2 Stare. 
 
 8 Maa. « Gaze. 
 
108 
 
 THE REVES PROLOGUE. 
 
 3853-3SS2. 
 
 Whan folk ban lauglied at this nice cas 
 
 Of Absolon and hendy Nicholas, 
 
 Diverse folk diversely they saide, 
 
 But for the more part they loiight and plaide | 
 
 Ne at this tale I saw no man him greve, 
 
 But it were only Osewold the Eeve, 
 
 Because he was of carpenteres craft, 
 
 A litel ire is in his herte ylaft ; 
 
 He gan to grutch and blamen it a lite. 
 
 So the ik,i quod he, f al wel coude I him quit@ 
 
 "With blering^ of a proude milleres eye, 
 
 If that me list to speke of ribaudrie. 
 
 But ik^ am olde ; me list not play for age ; 
 
 Gras time is don, my foddre is now forage. 
 
 This white top writeth min olde yeres ; 
 
 Min herte is also mouled as min heres ; 
 
 But if I fare as doth an open-ers f 
 
 That ilke fruit is ever lenger the wers 
 
 Til it be roten^ in mullok*^ or in stre. 
 
 We olde men, I. drede, so faren we. 
 Til we be roten, can we not be ripe ; 
 We hoppe alway, while that the world wol pipe| 
 For in our will ther stiketh ever a nayl, 
 To have an hore hed and a grene tayl, 
 As hath a leke ; for though our might be gon, 
 Our will desireth ioUy ever in on : 
 Tor whan we may not don, than wol we speken. 
 Yet in our ashen cold is fire yreken. 
 
 Foure giedes han we, which I shal devise 
 Avaunting, lying, anger, and covetise. 
 
 1 So may I fare. » 
 
 2 1, e., with a story of a miller being imposed upon. 
 
 3 1. 4 The medlar, 
 
 5 Kotten. ^ Dung. 
 
3883-3918. THE EEVES PUOLOGUE. 109 
 
 These foiire sparkes longen unto elde. 
 
 Our olde limes^ mow wel ben unwelde,^ 
 
 But will ne shal not faillen, tliat is sotiio. 
 
 And yet have I alway a coltes tothe, 
 
 As many a yere as it is passed henne, 
 
 Sin that my tappe of lif began to renue. 
 
 For sikerly, whan I was borne, anon 
 
 Deth drow the tappe of lif, and let it gon: 
 
 And ever sith hath so the tappe yi'onne, 
 
 Til that almost all emjDty is the tonne. 
 
 The streme of lif now droppeth on the ehimbc.® 
 
 The sely tonge may wel ringe and chimbe 
 
 Of wretchednesse, that passed is ful yore: 
 
 With olde folk, save dotage, is no more. 
 
 Whan that our Hoste had herd this sermoniu j, 
 He gan to speke as lordly as a king, 
 And sayde ; What amounteth all this wit ? 
 What ? shal we speke all day of holy writ t 
 The divel made a Eeve for to preche, 
 Or of a souter * a shipman, or a leche. 
 
 Say forth thy tale, and tary not the time : 
 Lo Depeford, and it is halt way prime -^ 
 Lo Grenewich, ther many a shrew is inne. 
 It were al time thy tale to beginne. 
 
 Now, sires, quod this Osewold the Eeve, 
 I pray you alle, that ye not you greve, 
 Though I answere, and somdel set his howve/ 
 For leful is with force force off to showve. 
 
 This dronken Miller hath ytold us here. 
 How that begiled was a carpentere, 
 Paraventure in scorne, for I am on : 
 And by your leve, I shal him quite anon. 
 Eight in his cherles termes wol I speke. 
 I pray to God his necke mote to-breke. 
 He can wel in min eye seen a stalk, 
 But in his owen he cannot seen a balk, 
 
 i Limbs. 2 Unwieldy. 
 
 3 Kime, Teut. means the prominency of the staves beyond the head of 
 the barrel. The imagery is very exact and beautiful. — Tyrwhiit. 
 
 4 Sutor, a cobbler. 
 
 * /. e., half-past seven, a. u. See TyrwUtt. « Hood, or cap. 
 
110 
 
 %llt S^lj^s SaU* 
 
 At Trompington, not fer fro Cantebrlgge, 
 
 Ther goth a brook, and over that a brigge^^ 
 
 Upon the whiche brook ther stont a melle: 
 
 And this is veray sothe, that I you telle. 
 
 A miller was ther dwelling many a day. 
 
 As any peacok he was proud and gay : 
 
 Pipen he coude, and fishe, and nettes bete,- 
 
 And turnen cuiipes, and wrastlen wel, and sliote.® 
 
 Ay by his belt he bare a long pavade/ 
 
 And of a swerd ful trenchant^ was the blade. 
 
 A ioly popper^ bare he in his pouche; 
 
 Ther n'as no man for peril dorst him toucho. 
 
 A Shefeld thwiteF bare he in his hose. 
 
 Round was his face, and camuse^ was his noso. 
 
 As pilled^ as an ape was his skull. 
 
 He was a market-beter^" at the full. 
 
 There dorste no wight hond upon him leggs. 
 
 That he ne swore he shuld anon abegge.^^ 
 
 A thefe he was forsoth, of corn and mele. 
 And that a slie, and usant^^ for to stele. 
 His name was hoten cleinous Simekin.^^ 
 A wif he hadde, cpmen of noble kin : 
 
 1 Bridge. 2 Mend. s shoot. 
 
 ^ Some weapon of offence. 5 Cutting. 
 
 6 Probably a pistol. Some say a bodkin. 7 Whittle. 
 
 8 Flat. 9 Bald. 
 
 ^0 Either a "raiser of market-prices" {Upton), or one who swagg^era 
 about the market. — See Tyrwhitt, gl. ^ Suffer for it. 
 
 1^ Used, accustomed. 
 
 13 His name was Simon, ver. 4020, 4, of which Simelcin is tlse dimi- 
 nutive ; and from his disdainful, insolent manners he had acquired the 
 surname of Deinous,^-a?,i as Nicholas, in the former tale, ver. 3199, " was 
 cleped Hendy," from the very opposite behaviour. A great numb':- of 
 our surnames have been derived from qualities of the mind, and ir is 
 reasonable to suppose that at the beginning they were naerely perxuuul. 
 
3941-3978. THE EEVES TALE. Ill 
 
 The person of the toiin hire father was. 
 "With hire he yaf ful many a pan of bras. 
 For that Simkin shuld in his blood allie. 
 She was yfostered in a nonnerie : 
 For Simkin wolde no wif, as he sayde. 
 But she were wel ynourished, and a mayde, 
 To saven his estat of yemanrie : 
 And she was prond, and pert as is a pie. 
 A ful faire sight was it upon hem two. 
 On holy dayes beforne hire wold he go 
 With his tipet ybounde about his hed; 
 And she came after in a gite^ of red, 
 And Simkin hadde hosen of the same. 
 Ther dorste no wight clepen hire but dame % 
 Was non so hardy, that went by the way, 
 That with hire dorste rage or ones play, 
 But if he wold be slain of Simekin 
 With pavade, or with knif, or bodekin. 
 (For jalous folk ben perilous evermo: 
 Algate^ they wold hir wives wenden so.) 
 And eke for she was somdel smoterlich,^ 
 She was as digne as water in a dich, 
 And al so ful of hoker, and of bismare. 
 Hire thoughte that a ladie shuld hire spare, 
 What for hire kinrede, and hire nortelrie,^ 
 That she had lerned in the nonnerie. 
 
 A doughter hadden they betwix hem two 
 Of twenty yere, withouten any mo, 
 Saving a child that was of half yere age, 
 In cradle it lay, and was a propre page.' 
 This wenche thicke and wel ygrowen was, 
 With camuse nose, and eyen grey as glas ; 
 With buttokes brode, and brestes round and hio • 
 But right faire was hire here,*^ I wol nat lie. 
 
 The person of the toun, for she was faire, 
 In purpos was to maken hire his haire 
 Both of his catel, and of his mesuage. 
 And strange he made it of hire mariage. 
 
 like what we call nicknames. It is probable that the use of hereditmy 
 j surnames was not, even in Chaucer's time, fully established among tha 
 i lower classes of people. — Tyrwhitt. 
 
 I 1 Gown. 2 Always. ** Dirty. 
 
 I 4 Nurture, education. 5 coy. 6 Hair. 
 
112 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 3979-i013. 
 
 His purpos was for to bestowe hire hie 
 
 Into som worthy blood of ancestrie. 
 
 For holy chirches good mote ben despended 
 
 On holy chirches blood that is descended. 
 
 Therfore he wolde his holy-blood honoiire. 
 
 Though that he holy chirche shuld devoure. 
 Gret soken^ hath this miller out of doute 
 
 With whete and malt^ of all the land aboute ; 
 
 And namely ther was a gret college 
 
 Men clepe the Soler halP at Cantebrege, 
 
 Ther was hir whete and eke hir malt yground 
 
 And on a day it happed in a stound,^ 
 
 Sike lay the manciple on a maladie, 
 
 Men wenden wisly^ that he shulde die. 
 
 For which this miller stale both mele and corn 
 
 An hundred times more than beforn. 
 
 For therbeforn he stale but curteisly, 
 
 But now he was a thefe outrageously. 
 
 For which the wardein chidde and made fare/ 
 
 But therof set the miller not a tare ; 
 
 He craked bost,^ and swore it n'as not so. 
 Than were ther yonge poure scoleres two^,^ 
 
 That dwelten in the halle of which I say^ 
 
 Testif they were, and lusty for to play 
 
 And only for hir mirth and revelrie 
 
 Upon the wardein besily they crie, 
 
 To yeve hem leve but a litel stound, 
 
 To gon to mille, and seen hir corn yground : 
 
 And hardily they dorsten lay hir necke, 
 
 The miller shuld not stele hem half a pecke 
 
 Of corn by sleighte, ne by force him reve. 
 And at the last the wardein yave hem leve : 
 
 John highte that on, and Alein highte that other, 
 
 Of o toun were they born, that highte Strother/ 
 1 Toll. 
 2 It means the Hall with the Soler. Before the students in our Univer- 
 sities were incorporated, they lived in lodging-houses, called Inns, 
 Halls, and Hostels, which were often distinguished by names taken from 
 some peculiarity in their construction. One at Cambridge was called 
 Tyled Osile. And at Oxford Oriel-College probably derives its name 
 from a large Messuage, vulgarly known by the name of Le Oriele, upon 
 the site of which it stands. An Oriel, or Oriol, was a Porch ; as a Soler 
 Beenis originally to have signified an open gallery, or balcony, at the top 
 of the house. — Tyrwhitt. ^Ina. moment, on a sudden. 
 
 •1 Thought for certain. 5 Ado. 6 Spoke aloud. 
 
 7 There is a Struther, or Strouther, in the Shire of Fife. 
 
4013-4053. THE REVES TALE. 113 
 
 Fer in the North, I can not tellen where. 
 
 This Alein maketli redy all his gere, 
 And on a hors the sak he cast anon : 
 Forth goth Alein the clerk, and also John, 
 With good swerd and with bokeler by hir side. 
 John knew the way, him neded not no guide, 
 And at the mille the sak adoiin he laith. 
 
 Alein spake first ; All haile, Simond, in faith. 
 How fares^ thy faire doughter, and thy wif 1 
 
 Alein, welcome (quod Simkin) by my lif, 
 And John also : how now, what do ye here ? 
 By God, Simond, (quod John) nede has no pere.^ 
 Him behoves serve himself that has na swain, 
 Or elles he is a fool, as clerkes sain. 
 Our manciple I hope^ he wol be ded, 
 Swa^ werkes ay the wanges^ in his hed: 
 And therfore is I com, and eke Alein, 
 To grind our corn and cary it hame agein : 
 I pray you spede us henen*^ that ye may. 
 
 It shal be don (quod Simkin) by my fay. 
 What wol ye don while that it is in hand ? 
 By God, right by the hopper wol I stand, 
 (Quod John) and seen how that the corn gas in. 
 Yet saw I never by my fader kin. 
 How that the hojDper wagges til and fra. 
 
 Alein answered; John, and wolt thou swa? 
 Than wol I be benethe by my croun, 
 And see how that the mele falles adoun 
 In til the trogh, that shal be my disport i 
 For, John, m faith I may ben of your sort; 
 I is as ill a miller as is ye. 
 
 This miller smiled at hir nicetee, 
 And thought, all this n'is don but for a wile. 
 They wenen that no man may hem begile. 
 But by my thrift yet shal I blere hir eie, 
 For all the sleighte in hir philosophic. 
 The more queinte knakkes that they make, 
 The more wol I stele whan that I take. 
 In stede of flour yet wol I yeve hem bren. 
 The gretest clerkes ben not the wisest men, 
 
 1 Chaucer, it may be observed, has given his clerks a northern dialect 
 —See Tyrwhitt. 2 Match, 3 Expect. 
 
 -^Sp. 5 Cheek-teeth. . 6 Hence. 
 
114 THE CAI^TERBUEY TALES. 4063-i( 
 
 As wliilom to the wolf tlius spake the mare '} 
 Of all hir art ne count I not a tare. 
 
 Out at the dore he goth ful prively, 
 Whan that he saw his time, softelj. 
 He loketh up and doun, till he hath found 
 The clerkes hors, ther as he stood ybound 
 Behind the mille, under a levesell;^ 
 And to the hors he goth him faire and well. 
 And stripeth of the bridel right anon. 
 
 And whan the hors was laus, he gan to gon 
 Toward the fen, ther wilde mares renne, 
 And forth, with wehee/^ thurgli thick and thinne. 
 This miller goth again, no word he said, 
 But doth his note/ and with these clerkes plaid, 
 Till that hir corn was faire and wel yground. 
 And whan the mele is sacked and yhound. 
 This John goth out, and fint his hors away. 
 And gan to crie, harow and wala wa ! 
 Our hors is lost : Alein, for Goddes banes, 
 Step on thy feet ; come of, man, al at anes : 
 Alas ! our wardein has his palfrey lorn. 
 
 This Alein al forgat both mele and corn; 
 Al was out of his mind his husbandrie ! 
 "What, whilke way is he gon ? he gan to crie. 
 
 The wif came leping inward at a renne, 
 She sayd ; Alas ! youre horse goth to the fenne 
 With wilde mares, as fast as he may go, 
 TJnthank come on his hand that bond him so, 
 And he that better shuld have knit the rein. 
 
 Alas ! (quod John) Alein, for Christes pein 
 Lay doun thy swerd, and I shal min alswa, 
 I is ful wight, God wate, as is a ra.'' 
 By Goddes saule he shall not scape us bathe. 
 Why ne had thou put the capeP in the lathe ?' 
 
 1 The story alluded to is told of a mule in Cent Nov. Ant. IST. 91. The 
 Mule pretends that his name is written upon the bottom of his hind -foot. 
 The Wolf attempting to read it, the 3Iule gives him a kick on the fore- 
 head and kills him. Upon which the Fox, who was present, observes, 
 Ogni huomo, die sa lettera, non e savio. There is a similar story of a AYolf 
 and a Mare in the most delectable History of Reynard the Fox. Edit. 1701. 
 Ch. xviii. — Tyrivhitt. 
 
 2 A leafy seat, or arbour. 
 
 3 A word to express the neighing of a horse. ^ Business. 
 
 Koe deer. 6 Horse. 7 Barn. 
 
4087-412G. THE EEVES TALE. 115 
 
 111 haile, Alein, by God thou is a fonne.^ 
 These sely clerkes han ful fast yronne 
 Toward the fen^ both Alein and eke John : 
 And whan the miller saw that they were gon. 
 He half a bushel of hir flour hath take, 
 And bad his wif go knede it in a cake. 
 He sayd ; I trow, the clerkes were aferde. 
 Yet can a miller make a clerkes berde,^ 
 For all his art. Ye, let hem gon hir way. 
 Lo wher they gon. Ye, let the children play : 
 They get him not so lightly by my croun. 
 
 These sely clerkes rennen up and doun 
 With kepe, kepe ; stand, stand ; jossa, warderere.^ 
 Ga whistle thou, and I shall kepe him here. 
 But shortly, til that it was veray night 
 They coude not, though they did all hir might, 
 Hir capel catch, he ran alway so fast : 
 Til in a diche they caught him at the last, 
 
 "VVery and wet, as bestes in the rain, 
 Cometh sely John, and with him cometh Aleia. 
 Alas (quod John) the day that I was borne ! 
 Now are we driven till hething^ and til scorne. 
 Our corn is stolne, men wol us fonnes calle, 
 Both the wardein, and eke our felawes alie, 
 And namely the miller, wala wa ! 
 
 Thus i^laineth^ John, as he goth by the way 
 Toward the mille, and bayard** in his hond. 
 The miller sitting by the fire he fond, 
 For it was night, and forther might they nought. 
 But for the love of God they him besought 
 Of herberwe'' and of ese,^ as for hir peny. 
 
 The miller said agen, if ther be any, 
 Swiche as it is, yet shuU ye have your part. 
 Myn hous is streit, but ye have lerned art ; 
 Ye can by arguments maken a place 
 A mile brode, of twenty foot of space. 
 Let see now if this place may suffice. 
 Or make it roume^ with speche, as is your gise. 
 Now, Simoud, (said this John) by Seint Cuthberd 
 Ay is thou mery, and that is fake answerd. 
 
 * Fool. ^ I.e., make a fool of him. 
 
 3 Perhaps a corruption of the French, " Garde arriere." — TyncMit. 
 
 4 Contempt. 5 Lamenteth. <» Horse. 
 
 7 Lodging. s Rest. ^ Spacious. 
 
116 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 4127-ilG 
 
 I have herd say, man sal take of twa thinges, 
 
 Slike as he findeSj or slike as he bringes. 
 
 But specially I pray thee, hoste dere, 
 
 Gar^ us have mete and drinke, and make ns cliere, 
 
 And we sal paien trewely at the full : 
 
 With empty hand, men may na haukes tuU." 
 
 Lo here our silver redy for to spend. 
 
 This miller to the toun his doughter send 
 For ale and bred, and rested hem a goos, 
 And bond hir hors, he shuld no more go loos : 
 And in his owen chambre hem made a bedde, 
 With shetes and with chalons^ faire yspredde, 
 Nat from his owen bed ten foot or twelve ; 
 His doughter had a bed all by hireselve, 
 Eight in the same chambre by and by : 
 It mighte be no bet, and cause xA\j, 
 Ther was no roumer herberwe in the place. 
 They soupen, and they speken ol solace, 
 And drinken ever strong ale at the best. 
 Abouten midnight wente they to rest. 
 
 Wei hath this miller vernished his lied, 
 Ful pale he was, for-dronken, and nought red. 
 He yoxeth,'* and he speketh thurgh the nose, 
 As he were on the quakke, or on the pose.^ 
 To bed he goth, and with him goth his wif ; 
 As any jay she light was and jolif, 
 So was hire joly whistle wel ywette. 
 The cradel at hire beddes ieet was sette. 
 To rocken, and to yeve the child to souke. 
 And whan that dronken was all in the crouke® 
 To bedde went the doughter right anon, 
 To bedde goth Alein, and also John. 
 Ther n'as no more ; nedeth hem no dwale.' 
 This miller hath so wisly^ bibbed ale, 
 That as an hors he snorteth in his slepe, 
 Ne of his tail behind he toke no kepe. 
 His wif bare him a bur don a ful strong ; 
 Men might hir routing heren a furlong. 
 The wenche routeth eke par, compagnie, 
 
 Alein the clerk that herd this melodie, 
 
 1 Let. 2 Lure. ^ Some coverlet made at Chalons. 
 
 * Hiccupped. s A.S if he had an obstruction or catarrh. 
 
 6 ntcher. 'J Sleeping-draught. s Thoroughly. 
 
4167-420G. THE EEVES TALE. 117 
 
 He poketli John, and sayde: Slepest thou? 
 Herdest thou ever slike a song er now ? 
 Lo whilke a complin^ is ymelP hem alia. 
 A wilde fire upon hir bodies falle, 
 Wha herkned ever slike a ferly^ thing? 
 Ye, they shall have the flour of y vel ending. 
 This lange night ther tides me no reste. 
 But yet na force, all shal be for the beste. 
 For, John, (sayd he) as ever mote I thrive, 
 If that I may, yon wenche wol I swive. 
 Som esement has lawe yshapen us. 
 For, John, ther is a lawe that saieth thus, 
 That if a man in o jDoint be agreved, 
 That in another he shal be releved. 
 Our corn is stolne, sothly it is na nay, 
 And we han had an yvel fit to-day. 
 And sin I shal have nan amendement 
 Again my losse, I wol have an esement ; 
 By Goddes saule, it shal nan other be. 
 
 This John answered; Alein, avise theo: 
 The miller is a perilous man, he sayde. 
 And if that he out of his slepe abraide, 
 He mighte don us bathe a vilanie. 
 Alein answered ; I count him nat a flie 
 And up he rist, and by the wenche he crept. 
 This wenche lay upright, and faste slept, 
 Til he so nigh was, er she might espie, 
 That it had ben to late for to crie : 
 And shortly for to say, they were at on. 
 Now play, Alein, for I wol speke of John. 
 
 This John lith still a furlong way or two, 
 And to himself he maketh routh and wo. 
 Alas ! (quod he) this is a wicked jape ; 
 Now may I say, that I is but an ape. 
 Yet has my felaw somwhat for his harme ; 
 He has the millers doughter in his arme : 
 He auntered"^ him, and hath his nedes spedde. 
 And I lie as a draf-sak^ in my bedde ; 
 And whan this jape is tald another day, 
 I shal be halden a daffe*^ or a cokenay :^ 
 
 1 Singing. 2 Among, ^ Strange. 
 
 "^ Adventured. 5 a bag of rubbish. ^ j^ool. 
 
 7 Tliat this is a term of contempt, borrowed originally from the 
 kitchen, is very probable. A cook, in the base Latinity, was called 
 
118 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 4207-4236. 
 
 I wol arise, and aimtre it by my fay: 
 XJnhardy is iinsely,^ thus men say. 
 
 And up he rose, and softely he went 
 Unto the eradel, and in his hand it hent. 
 And bare it soft imto his beddes fete. 
 Sone after this the wif hire routing lete, 
 And gan awake, and went hire out to pisse, 
 And came again, and gan the eradel misse, 
 And groped here and ther, but she fond non, 
 Alas ! (quod she) I had almost misgon. 
 I had almost gon to the clerkes bedde. 
 Ey henedicite, than had I foule yspedde. 
 And forth she goth, til she the eradel fond. 
 She gropeth alway forther with hire hond. 
 And fond the bed, and thoughte nat but good, 
 Because that the eradel by it stood. 
 And n'iste wher she was, for it was derk, 
 But faire and wel she crept in by the clerk, 
 And lith ful still, and wold han caught a slepe. 
 Within a while this John the clerk up lepe, 
 And on this goode wif he laieth on sore ; 
 So mery a fit ne had she nat ful yore. 
 He priketh hard and depe, as he were mad. 
 
 This joly lif han these two clerkes lad, 
 Til that the thridde cok began to sing. 
 Alein wex werie in the morwening, 
 For he had swonken all the longe night, 
 And sayd ; Fare wel, Malkin, my swete wight. 
 The day is come, I may no longer bide. 
 But evermo, wher so I go or ride, 
 
 Coquinator, and Coqidnarius, from either of wMcIl Colcenay might easily 
 be derived. In pp. fol. xxxv. 6. 
 
 And yet I say by my soule I have no salt bacon 
 
 Ne no Cokeney by Christe coloppes to make. 
 
 It seems to signify a Cook. — In those rhymes ascribed to Hugh Bigot, 
 
 which Camden has published, Brit. Col. 451 (upon what authority I 
 
 know not.) 
 
 «• "Were I in my castle of Bungey 
 Upon the river of Waveney, 
 I would ne care for the King of Cockeney." 
 The author, in calling London Cockeney, might possibly allude to that 
 imaginary country of Idleness and Luxury, which was anciently known 
 by the name of '• Cokaigne," or Cocagne, a name which Hickes has shewn 
 to be derived from Coquina. — Tyrwhitf. 
 
 1 Unhappy, 
 
4237-i2S0. THE EEVES TALE. 119 
 
 I is thin awen clerk, so liave I hele.^ 
 
 Now, dere lemman, quod she, go farewele : 
 
 But or thou go, o thing I wol thee tell. 
 
 Whan that thou wendest homeward by the mell, 
 
 Eight at the entree of the dore behind 
 
 Thou shalt a cake of half a bushel find, 
 
 That was ymaked of thin owen mele, 
 
 Which that I halpe my fader for to stele. 
 
 And goode lemman, God thee save and kepe. 
 
 And with that word she gan almost to wepe. 
 
 Alein uprist and thougiit, er that it daw 
 I wol go crepen in by my felaw : 
 And fond the cradel at his hand anon. 
 By God, thought he, all wrang I have misgoa i 
 My hed is tottie of my swink to night, 
 That maketh me that I go nat aright. 
 I wot wel by the cradel I have misgo ; 
 Here lith the miller and his wif also. 
 And forth he goth a twenty divel way 
 Unto the bed, ther as the miller lay. 
 He wend have cropen^ by his felaw John, 
 And by the miller in he crej)t anon, 
 And caught him by the nekke, and gan him shake, 
 And sayd ; Thou John, thou swineshed awake 
 Tor Cristes saule, and here a noble game : 
 For by that lord that called is Seint Jame, 
 As^ I have thries as in this short night 
 Swived the millers doughter bolt-upright, 
 While thou hast as a coward ben agast. 
 
 Ye, false harlot, quod the miller, hast? 
 A, false traitour, false clerk, (quod he) 
 Thou shalt be ded by Goddes dignitee, 
 Who dorste be so bold to disparage 
 My doughter, that is come of swiche linage 
 And by the throte-boUe he caught Alein, 
 And he him hent despitously again, 
 And on the nose he smote him with his fist ; 
 Doun ran the blody streme upon his brest : 
 And in the flore with nose and mouth to-broke 
 They walwe,^ as don two pigges in a poke. 
 And up they gon, and doun again anon, 
 Til that the miller sporned at a ston. 
 And doun he fell backward upon his wif, 
 That wiste nothing of this nice strif : 
 > Salvation. 2 Would have crept. ^ So. •* Wallowed. 
 
 V 
 
120 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 42S1-4322 
 
 For she was fall aslepe a litel wight 
 With John the clerk, that waked had all night J 
 And with the fall out of hire slepe she braide. 
 Helpe, holy crois of Bromeholme, (she sayde) 
 In manus tuas, Lord, to thee I call. 
 Awake, Simond, the fend is on me fall; 
 Myn herte is broken ; helpe ; I n'am but ded ; 
 Ther lith on up my wombe and up myn lied. 
 Helpe, Simkin, for the false clerkes fight. 
 This John stert up as fast as ever he might, 
 And graspeth by the walles to and fro 
 To find a staf, and she stert up also, 
 And knew the estres^ bet than did this John, 
 And by the wall she toke a staf anon : 
 And saw a litel shemering of a light, 
 For at an hole in shone the mone bright, 
 And by that light she saw hem botlie two. 
 But sikerly she n'iste who was who. 
 But as she saw a white thing in hire eye. 
 And whan she gan this white thing espie, 
 She wend the clerk had wered a volupere f 
 And with the staf she drow ay nei'e and nere, 
 And wend han hit this Alein atte full, 
 And smote the miller on the pilled skull, 
 That doun he goth, and cried, harow ! I die 
 Thise clerkes bete him wel, and let him lie, 
 And greithen^ hem, and take hir hors anon, 
 And eke hir mele, and on hir way they gon : 
 And at the mille dore eke they toke hir cake 
 Of half a bushel flour, ful wel ybake. 
 
 Thus is the proude miller wel ybete, 
 And hath ylost the grinding of the whete, 
 And paied for the souper every del 
 Of Alein and of John, that bete him wel; 
 His wif is swived, and his daughter als; 
 Lo, swiche it is a miller to be fals. 
 And therfore this proverbe is sayd ful soth, 
 Him thar'* not winnen v^^el that evil doth j 
 A gilour^ shal himself begiled be : 
 And God that siteth hie in magestee 
 Save all thus compagnie, gret and smale. 
 Thus have I quit the miller in my tale. 
 
 ' The inner premises. " Nigbt-cap. 3 Prepared. 
 
 4 He shall not ; it behoveth not that he win. s a deceiver. 
 
121 
 
 THE COKES PEOLOGUE. 
 
 4323-435i. 
 
 The Coke of London, while tlie Eeve spake, 
 
 For joye (liim thougiit) lie clawed liim on tlie bak 
 
 A ha (quod he) for Cristes passion, 
 
 This miller had a sharp conclusion, 
 
 Upon this argument of herbergage. 
 
 "Wei sayde Salomon in his langage, 
 
 Ne bring not every man into thin hoiis,' 
 
 For herberwing^ by night is jDerilous. 
 
 Wei ought a man avised for to be 
 
 Whom that he brought into his privetee. 
 
 I pray to God so yeve me sorv/e and care. 
 
 If ever, sithen I highte Hodge of Ware, 
 
 Herd I a miller bet- ysette a-werk ; 
 
 He had a jape of malice in the derk. 
 
 But God forbede that we stinten here. 
 And therfore if ye vouchen sauP to here 
 A tale of me that am a poure man, 
 I wol you tell as wel as ever T can 
 A litel jape that fell in our citee. 
 
 Our hoste answerd and sayde; I grant it thee: 
 Now tell on, Eoger, and loke that it be good. 
 For many a pastee hast thou letten blood. 
 And many a Jacke of Dover hast thou sold, 
 That hath been twies hot and twies cold. 
 Of many a pilgrim hast thou Cristes curse. 
 For of thy perselee^ yet fare they the werse. 
 That they han eten in thy stoble goos -J" 
 For in thy shop goth many a ilie loos. 
 Now tell on, gentil Eoger by thy name, 
 But yet I pray thee be not wi'oth for game ; 
 A man may say ful soth, in game and play. 
 Thou sayst full soth, quod Eoger, by my fay ; 
 
 i * Housing. 2 Better. 3 if ye are willing. 4 Parsley. 
 
 jl 5 A goose feed in a stubble-field, i. e., a lean, meagre goose. 
 
 ii 
 
122 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 4355-4386. 
 
 But sotli play quade spel} as the Fleming saith^ 
 And therfore, Herry Bailly, by thy faith, 
 Be thon not wroth, or we departen here, 
 Though that my tale be of an hostelere. 
 But natheles, I wol not telle it yet, 
 But er we part, ywis thou shalt be quit. 
 And therewithal he lough and made chere^ 
 And sayd his tale, as ye shul after here. 
 
 %\t Ci)'Ius fait 
 
 A PRENTis whilom dwelt in our citee, 
 And of a craft of vitaillers was he : 
 Gaillard^ he was, as goldfinch in the shawe,^ 
 Broune as a bery, a propre short felawe ; 
 With lokkes blake, kembed ful fetisly. 
 Dancen he coude so wel and jolily, 
 That he was cleped Perkin Eevelour. 
 He was as ful of love and paramour, 
 As is the hive ful of hony swete ; 
 Wel was the wench e with him mighte meto. 
 
 At every bridale would he sing and ho].;.o ; 
 He loved bet the taverne than the shoppe. 
 For whan ther any riding* was in Chepe, 
 Out of the shojope thider wold he lepe. 
 And til that he had all the sight ysein, 
 And danced wel, he wold not come agein ; 
 And gadred him a meinie'^ of his sort. 
 To hoppe and sing, and maken swiche disport: 
 And ther they setten steven^ for to mete 
 To plaien at the dis in swiche a strete. 
 Tor in the toun ne was ther no prentis, 
 That fairer coude caste a pair of dis 
 Than Perkin coude, and therto he was fre 
 Of his dispence, in place of privetee.' 
 
 True play is bad play. 2 Qay, s Shade, grove 
 
 Either jousting, or any public procession. 
 
 A troop of mischievous fellows. — See TyrvoliiiVs gl. 
 
 They appointed. 7 Private business. 
 
4387-4420. THE COKES TALE. 123 
 
 That foncP his maistei- wel in his chaffare,^ 
 For often time he fond his box ful bare. 
 
 For sothly, a prentis, a revelonr, 
 That hanteth^ dis, riot and paramour, 
 His maister shal it in his shoppe abie,* 
 Al have he no part of the minstralcie. 
 For theft and riot they ben convertible, 
 Al can they play on giterne or ribible. 
 Eevel and trouth, as in a low degree, 
 They ben ful wroth all day, as men may see. 
 
 This joly prentis with his maister abode. 
 Til he was neigh out of his prentishode, 
 Al were he snibbed bothe erly and late, 
 And somtime lad with revel to Newgate. 
 But at the last his maister him bethought 
 Upon a day, whau he his paper sought, 
 Of a proverbe, that saith this same word ; 
 Wei bet is roten ajopel out of hord, 
 Than that it rote alle the remenant; 
 So fareth it by a riotous servant ; 
 It is well lasse harm to let him pace,^ 
 Than he shende^ all the servants in the place. 
 Therfore his maister yaf him a quitance, 
 And bad him go, with sorwe and Vvdth meschance. 
 And thus this joly prentis had his leve : 
 Now let him riot all the night or leve. 
 
 And for ther n'is no thefe without a louke,'^ 
 That helpeth him to wasten and to souke 
 Of that he briben^ can, or bonve may, 
 Anon he sent his bed and his array 
 Unto a compere of his owen sort. 
 That loved dis, and riot, and disport; 
 And had a wif, that "held for contenance 
 A shoppe, and swived for hire sustenance. 
 
 1 Found. 2 Traffic, merclianclise. 3 Hauntetb, is given ^ 
 
 4 Suffer for it in the " till.** & Go, ^ Euin. 
 
 7 A receiver. " 8 Steal. 
 
124 
 
 THE MAN OF LAWES PROLOGUE. 
 
 4421-4454. 
 
 Our hoste saw wel, that the brighte sonne 
 
 The ark of his artificial day had ronne 
 
 The f ourthe part, and half an hoiire and mo^'3 ; 
 
 And though he were not depe expert in lore, 
 
 He wiste it was the eiglite and twenty day 
 
 Of April, that is messager to May ; 
 
 And saw wel that the shadow of every tree 
 
 Was as in lengthe of the same quantitee 
 
 That was the body erect, that caused it ; 
 
 And therfore by the shadow he toke his wit, 
 
 That Phebus, which that shone so clere and bri^'it^ 
 
 Degrees was five and fourty clombe on hight] 
 
 And for that day, as in that latitude. 
 
 It was ten of the clok, he gan conclude ; 
 
 And sodenly he plight his hors aboute. 
 
 Lordings, quod he, I warne you all this route,' 
 The fourthe j)artie of this day is gon. 
 Now for the love of God and of Seint John 
 Leseth no time, as ferforth as ye may. 
 Lordings, the time it wasteth night and day, 
 And steleth from us, what prively sloping, 
 And what tlnirgh negligence in our waking, 
 As doth the streme, that turneth never again. 
 Descending fro the montagne into a plain. 
 Wel can Senek and many a philosophre 
 Bewailen time, more than gold in coffre. 
 Tor losse of catel may recovered be, 
 But losse of time shendeth us, quocl he. 
 It wol not come again withouten drede, 
 'No more than wol Malkins maidenhede,* 
 Whan she hath lost it in hire wantonnesse. 
 Let us not moulen^ thus in idlenesse. 
 
 Sire man of Lawe, quod he, so have ye blis. 
 Tell us a tale anon, as forword is.** 
 
 1 Party. 2 a common proverb. 
 
 3 Grow mouldy. * As is stipulated. 
 
4455-4480. THE MA2T OF LAWES PROLOGUE. 125 
 
 Ye ben submitted tliurgh. your free assent 
 To stonde in this cas at my jugement. 
 Acqiiiteth you now, and holdeth your behest; 
 Than have ye don your devoir at the lest. 
 Hoste, quod he, de par dieux jeo assente^ 
 To breken forword is not min entente. 
 Behest is dette, and I wold hold it fayn 
 All my behest, I can no better sayn. 
 For swiche lawe as man yeveth another wight^ 
 He shuld himselven usen it by right. 
 Thus wol our text : but natheles certain 
 I can right now no thrifty tale sain, 
 But Chaucer (though he can but lewedly* 
 On metres and on riming craftily) 
 Hath sayd hem, in swiche English as he can. 
 Of olde time, as knoweth many a man. 
 And if he have not sayd hem, leve brother. 
 In book, he hath sayd hem in another. 
 For he hath told of lovers up and doun, 
 Mo than Ovide made of mentioun 
 In his Epistolis, than ben ful olde. 
 What shuld I tellen hem, sin they ben tolde ? 
 In youthe he made of Ceys" and Alcyon, 
 And sithen hath he sj)oke of everich on 
 Thise noble wives, and thise lovers eke. 
 Who so that wol his large volume seke 
 
 1 Ignorantly. 
 2 The stoiy of Ceyx and Alcyone is related in the introduction to th© 
 poem, which was for some time called " the Dreme of Chaucer,'' but which, 
 in the MSS, Fairf. IG. and Bod. 638. is more properly entitled "the 
 hooke of the Duchesse." The following note, which has been prefixed to 
 it in all the later editions, is in MS. Fairf. in the handwriting ol John 
 Stowe. " Bt/ the person of a mourning Knight sitting under an oke is 
 meant JoJui of Gaunt, DuJce of Lancaster, greatly lamenting the death of one 
 whom hee entirely loved, supposed to be Blanche the Duchesse." I believe 
 John is very right in his conjecture. Chaucer himself, in his Leg. of G. TV. 
 418. says, that he made " the deth of Blaunche the Duchesse:" and in the 
 poem now under consideration he plainly alludes to her name, ver. 9i8. 
 
 " And faire white she hete ; 
 That was my ladys name right." 
 On the other hand, the knight is represented, ver. 455, 6, 
 
 " Of the age of four and twenty yere. 
 Upon his berde but litel here" — 
 whereas John of Gaunt, at the death of Blanche in 1369, was about nine 
 and tvcenty years of age. But this perhaps was a designed misrepresenta- 
 tion. — Tyrwhitt, 
 
126 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 44S1-4513. 
 
 Cleped tlie seintes legende of Cupide :^ 
 
 Ther may he se the hirge woimdes wide 
 
 Of Lucrece, and of Babylon Thisbe ; 
 
 The swerd of Dido for tlie false Enee ; 
 
 The tree of Phillis for hire Demophon; 
 
 The plaint of Deianire, and Hermion, 
 
 Of Adriane, and Ysiphilee ; 
 
 The barreine ile" stonding in the see ; 
 
 The dreint^ Leandre for his fayre Hero; 
 
 The teres of Heleine, and eke the wo 
 
 Of Briseide, and of Ladomia ; 
 
 The crueltee of thee, quene Medea, 
 
 Thy litel children hanging by the hals,"* 
 
 Tor thy Jason, that was of love so fals. 
 
 O Hiperraestra, Penelope, Alceste, 
 
 Yonr wifhood he commendeth with the beste. 
 
 But certainly no word ne writeth he 
 Of thilke wicke ensample of Canace, 
 That loved hire o wen brother sinfully ; 
 (Of all swiche cursed stories I say fy) 
 Or elles of Tyrius Appolonius, 
 How that the cursed king Antiochus 
 Beraft his doughter of hire niaidenhede. 
 That is so horrible a tale for to rede, 
 "Whan he hire threw upon the pavement. 
 And therfore he of ful avisement 
 N'old never write in non of his sermons 
 Of swiche unkinde abhominations ; 
 Ne I wol non reherse, if that I may. 
 But of my tale how shal I don this day ? 
 Me were loth to be likened douteles 
 To Muses, that men clepe Pierides,^ 
 
 1 In the Editt. it is called the Legende of good ivomen ; in MS. Fairf. 
 16. the Legendis of ix gode xvomen. According to liydgate, Prol. to 
 Boccace, the number was to have been nineteen; and perhaps the 
 Legende itself affords some ground for this notion. See ver. 183. and 
 C. L. ver. 108. But this number was probably never completed, and the 
 last story of H}'^permnestra is seemingly unfinished. 
 
 In an imperfect copy of the Master of the Game, dedicated to Henry, 
 eldest son of Henry IV. (MS. Harl. 6S24.) is the following passage. " As 
 Chaucer seitlie in his prolog, of xxv. good wymmen, by writing have men 
 mynde of thynges passed." — See ver. 18. Tyrwhiit. 
 
 2 /. e., Sestos, where Hero dwelt. ^ Drowned. 
 
 4 The neck. But the classical legends generally represent them as 
 slain by the sword. 
 
 "" This seems rather to refer to the daughters of Pier us, changed into 
 pies, for contending with the muses. 
 
 1 
 
4513-4539. THE MAN OP LAWES PROLOGUE. 127 
 
 (3Ietamorj)hoseos^ wote that I mene) 
 But natlieles I recche^ not a bene, 
 Though I come after him with hawebake,^ 
 I speke in prose, and let him rimes make. 
 And with that word, he with a sobre chere 
 Began his tale, and sayde, as ye shuU here. 
 
 O SCATHFUL harm, condition of poverte, 
 
 With thu'st, with cold, with hunger so confounded. 
 
 To asken helpe thee shameth in thin herte, 
 
 If thou non ask, so sore art thou ywounded, 
 
 That veray nede unwrappeth al thy wound lii.l. 
 
 Maugre thin hed thou must for indigence 
 
 Or stele, or begge, or borwe thy dispence. 
 
 Thou blamest Crist, and sayst ful bitterly,] 
 He misdeparteth'^ richesse temporal ; 
 Thy neighebour thou witest^ sinfully. 
 And sayst, thou hast a litel, and he hath all : 
 Parfay^ (sayst thou) somtime he reken shall, 
 Whan that his tayl shal brennen in the glede/ 
 For he nought helpeth needful in hir nede. 
 
 Herken what is the sentence of the wise. 
 Bet is to dien than have indigence. 
 Thy selve neighebour wol thee despise, 
 If thou be poure, farewel thy reverence. 
 Yet of the wise man take this sentence, 
 AUe the dayes of poure men ben wicke. 
 Beware therfore or thou come to that pricke. 
 
 1 7. e„ Ovid, Met. 1. v. We may observe that Chaucer uses classical 
 genitive cases as nominatives. — So Eneados, Judicu7n, etc. 
 2 Care. 
 
 3 Neither the reading, nor the meaning of this word can be deter- 
 mined. 
 
 4 111 diyideth. 5 Blamest. 6 By my faith. ^ Fire. 
 
128 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 4540-457'^' 
 
 If thou be ponre, thy brother ha^teth thee, 
 And all thy frendes fleen fro thee, alas I 
 O riche marchants, ful of wele ben ye, 
 
 noble, o prudent folk, as in this cas, 
 Your bagges ben not filled with ambes as,^ 
 
 But with sis^ cink, that renneth for your chance 9 
 At Cristenmasse mery may ye dance. 
 
 Ye seken lond and see for your winninges, 
 As wise folk ye knowen all th' estat 
 Of regnes, ye ben fathers of tidinges, 
 And tales, both of pees and of debat : 
 
 1 were right now of tales desolat, 
 
 W ere that a marchant, gon in many a yere, 
 Me taught a tale, which that ye shuU here. 
 
 In Surrie^ whilom dwelt a compagnie 
 Of chapmen rich, and therto sad^ and trewe. 
 That wide where senten hir spicerie, 
 Clothes of gold, and satins riche of hewe. 
 Hir chaffare^ was so thriftly and so newe, 
 That every wight hath deintee^ to chaffare 
 "With hem, and eke to sellen hem hir ware. 
 
 Now fell it, that the maisters of that sort 
 Han shapen hem to Eome for to wende, 
 "Were it for chapmanhood or for disport, 
 Non other message wold they thider sende. 
 But comen hemself to Eome, this is the ende : 
 And in swiche place as thought hem avantag© 
 For hir entente, they taken hir herbergage. 
 
 Sojourned han these marchants in that toun 
 A certaiu time, as fell to hir plesance : 
 And so befell, that the excellent renoun 
 Of the emperoures doughter dame Custance 
 Eeported was, with every circumstance, 
 Unto these Surrien marchants, in swiche wise 
 Fro day to day, as I shal you devise. 
 
 This was the commun vols of every man : 
 Our emperour of Eome, God him se,^ 
 A doughter hath, that sin the world began, 
 
 ' Two aces, at dice. " Six. 
 
 3 Syria. 4 Serious. ° Merchandise. 
 
 6 Values highly, 7 J. e. preseive. 
 
 i 
 
4578-4616. THE MAN OP LAWES TALE. 129 
 
 To reken as wel hire goodnesse as beaute, 
 N' as never swiche another as is she ; 
 I pray to God in honour hire sustene, 
 And wold she were of all Europe the quene. 
 
 In hire is high beaute withouten pride, 
 Youthe, withouten grenehed or folie : 
 To all hire werkes vertue is hire guide ; 
 Humblesse hath slaien in hire tyrannie : 
 She is mirrour of alle curtesie, 
 Hire herte is veray chambre of holinesse, 
 Hire hond ministre of fredom for almesse. 
 
 And all this vois was soth/ as God is trewe, 
 But now to purpos let us turne agein. 
 These marchants han don fraught hir shippes news, 
 And whan they han this blisful maiden sein, 
 Home to Surrie ben they went ful fayn, 
 And don hir nedes, as they han don yore, 
 And liven in wele, I can say you no more. 
 
 ISTow fell it, that these marchants stood in gra33 
 Of him that was the Soudan^ of Surrie : 
 For whan they came from any strange place 
 He wold of his benigne curtesie 
 Make hem good chere, and besily esjjie 
 Tidings of sundry regnes, for to lere^ 
 The wonders that they mighte seen or here. 
 
 Amonges other thinges specially 
 These marchants han him told of dame Custanco 
 So gret noblesse, in ernest seriously, , 
 That this Soudan hath caught so gret plesance 
 To han hire figure in his remembrance. 
 That all his lust, and all his besy cure 
 Was for to love hire, while his lif may dure. 
 
 Paraventure in thilke large book, 
 Which that men clei3e the heven, ywritten was 
 With sterres, whan that he his birthe took, 
 That he for love shuld han his deth, alas ! 
 For in the sterres, clerer than is glas. 
 Is writen, God wot, who so coud it rede, 
 The deth of every man withouten drede."^ 
 J This report was true. S Soklan. 3 Learn. * DouLt. 
 
130 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 4617-4;65a 
 
 In sterres many a winter therbeforu 
 Was writ the detli of Hector, Achilles, 
 Of Pompey, Julius, or they were born ; 
 The strif of Thebes ; and oi Hercules, 
 Of Sampson, Turnus, and of Socrates 
 The deth; but mennes wittes ben so dull, 
 That no wight can wel rede it at the full. 
 
 This Soudaii for his prive councel sent, 
 And shortly of this matere for to pace, 
 He hath to hem declared his entent, 
 And sayd hem certain, but he might have grace 
 To han Custance, within a litel space. 
 He n' as but ded, and charged hem in hie 
 To shapen for his lif som remeclie. 
 
 Diverse men, diverse thinges saiden ; 
 They argumentes casten up and doun ; 
 Many a subtil reson forth they laiden ; 
 They speken of magike, and abusion;^ 
 But finally, as in conclusion, 
 They cannot seen in that non avantage, 
 Ne in non other way, save mariage. 
 
 Than saw they therin swiche difficultee 
 By way of reson, for to speke all plain, 
 Because ther was swiche diversitee 
 Betwene hir bothe law^es, that they sayn, 
 They trowen that no cristen prince wold fayn 
 Wedden his child under our lawe swete, 
 That us was yeven by Mahound- our prophets. 
 
 And he answered ', Eather than I lese 
 Custance, I wol be cristened douteles : 
 I mote ben hires,^ I may non other chese, 
 I pray you hold your arguments in pees, 
 Saveth my lif, and beth not reccheles'^ 
 To geten hire that hath my lif in cure, 
 For in this wo I may not long endure. 
 
 "What nedeth greter dilatation 1 
 I say, by tretise and ambassatrie. 
 And by the popes mediation. 
 And all the chirche, and all the chevalrie, 
 That in destruction of Maumetrie, 
 I Impropriety. " Mohammed. ^ I must be hers. ^ Careless, 
 
4657-4693. THE MAN OF LAWES TALE. 131 
 
 And in encrese of Cristes lawe dere, 
 They ben accorded so as ye may here; 
 
 How that the Soudan and his baronage. 
 And all his lieges shuld ycristened be, 
 And he shal han distance in mariage, 
 And certain gold, I n'ot what qnantitee. 
 And hereto finden suffisant suretee. 
 The same accord is sworne on eyther side ; 
 Now, fair Custance, almighty God thee gide. 
 
 Now wolden som men waiten, as I-gesse, 
 That I shnld tellen all the purveiance, 
 The which that the emperour of his noblesse 
 Hath shapen for his doughter dame distance. 
 Wei may men know that so gret ordinance 
 May no man tellen in a litel clause. 
 As was arraied for so high a cause. 
 
 Bishopes ben shapen with hire for to wende, 
 Lordes, ladies, and knightes of renoun, 
 And other folk ynow^ this is the end. 
 And notified is thurghout al the toiin, 
 That every wight with gret devotioun 
 Shuld prayen Crist, that he this mariage 
 Eeceive in gree, and spede this viage.^ 
 
 The day is comen of hire departing, 
 I say the woful day fatal is come, 
 That ther may be no longer tarying, 
 But forward they hem dressen all and some. 
 Custance, that was with sorwe all overcome, 
 Fill pale arist,- and dresseth hire to wende, 
 For wel she seth ther n'is non other ende. 
 
 Alas! what wonder is it though she we]3t? 
 That shal be sent to straunge nation 
 Fro frendes; that so tendrely hire kept, 
 And to be bouude under subjection 
 Of on, she knoweth not his condition. 
 Housbondes ben all good, and han ben yore, 
 That knowen wives, I dare say no more. 
 
 1 Expedition. 2 Arose. 
 
 12 
 
132 THE CANTERBURY TALES, 4a94-472a 
 
 Fader, (she said) thy wretched child Custance, 
 Thy yonge doughter, fostered up so soft, 
 And ye, my nioder, my soveraine plesance 
 Over all thing, (out taken Crist on loft)^ 
 Custance your child hire recommendeth oft 
 Unto your grace; for I shal to Surrie, 
 Ne shal I never seen you more with eye. 
 
 Alas ! unto the Barbare nation 
 I muste gon, sin that it is your will ". 
 But Crist, that starfe'-^ for our redemption, 
 So yeve me grace his hestes^ to fulfill, 
 I wretched woman no force though I spill ;'* 
 Women arn borne to thraldom and penance. 
 And to ben under mannes governance. 
 
 I trow at Troye whan PIrrus brake the wall. 
 Or Ilion brent, or Thebes the citee, 
 Ne at Eome for the harm thurgh Hanniball, 
 That Romans hath venqueshecl times three, 
 N'as herd swiche tendre weping for pitee, 
 As in the chambre was for hire parting. 
 But forth she mote/ wheder she wepe or sing. 
 
 O firsts moving cruel firmament. 
 With thy diurnal swegh that croudest^ ay. 
 And hurtlest^ all from Est til Occident,^ 
 That naturally wold hold another way : 
 Thy crouding set the heven in swiche array 
 At the beginning ot this fierce viage. 
 That cruel Mars hath slain this marriage. 
 
 Infortunat ascendent tortuous, 
 Of which the lord is helpeles fall, alas ! 
 Out of his angle into the derkest hous. 
 O !Mars, o Atyzar/ as in this cas ; 
 O feble Mone,^*^ unhappy ben thy pas, 
 Thou knittest thee ther thou art not received, 
 Ther thou were wel fro thennes art thou weived." 
 
 ^ Save only Clu'ist on high. '- Died. 
 
 3 Behest. * Perish. 5 Must go. 
 
 6 Dost push togetlier. ? Drivest. * From east to west. 
 
 9 Probably " burning," " destructive;" but the interpretation of these 
 barbarous astrological terras is of little consequence. 
 
 10 Moon, . 11 Departed. 
 
4729-17G3. THE MAN- OP LAWES TALE. 133 
 
 Imprudent emperoiir of Eome, alas ! 
 "Was ther no pliilosoj^hre in al thy toiin ? 
 Is no time bet^ than other in swiche cas? 
 Of viage is ther non electioun, 
 Namely to folk of high conditioun, 
 Nat whan a rote- is of a birth yknowe 1 
 Alas I we ben to lewed/ or to slow.'* 
 
 To ship is brought this woful faire maid 
 Solempnely with every circumstance : 
 Now Jesu Crist be with you all, she said. 
 Ther n'is no more, but farewel fair Custauce. 
 She peineth hire to make good countenance, 
 And forth I let hire sayle in this manere, 
 And turne I wol againe to my matere. 
 
 The mother of the Soudan, well of vices, 
 Espied hath hire sones pleine entente, 
 How he wol lete his olcle sacrifices : 
 And right anon she for her conseil sente, 
 And they ben comen, to know what she mente, 
 And whan assembled was this folk in fere, 
 She set hire doim, and sayd as ye shul here, 
 
 Lordes, (she sayd) ye knowen everich oa 
 How that my sone in point is for to lete'' 
 The holy lawes of our Alkaron, 
 Yeven by Goddes messager Mahomete : 
 But on avow to grete God I hete,*^ 
 The lif shal rather out of my body sterte, 
 Than Mahometes lawe out of myn herte. 
 
 What shuld us tiden of' this newe lawe 
 But thraldom to our bodies and penance, 
 And afterward in helle to ben drawe, 
 For we reneied^ Mahound our creance ] 
 But, lordes, wol ye maken assurance, 
 As I shal say, assenting to my lore "2^ 
 And I shal make us sauf for evermore. 
 
 1 Better. 
 
 2 A root, or radix, is any certain time taken at pleasure, from wliich, 
 as an era, the celestial motions are to be computed. — Tynt:1iitt,g\ 
 
 3 Ignorant. ^ stupid. 
 
 5 Is on the point of abandoning. ^ Promise. 
 
 ■ 7 Betide us from. s Denied. 9 Counsel. 
 
134 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 4764^-4301: 
 
 They sworen, and assented every man 
 To live with hire and die, and by hire stond : 
 And everich on, in the best wise he can, 
 To strengthen hire shal all his frendes fond. 
 And she hath this emprise ytaken in hond, 
 Which ye shuU heren that I shal devise, 
 And to hem all she spake right in this wise. 
 
 "We shiil first feine ns cristendom to take ; 
 Cold water shal not greve lis but a lite : 
 And I shal swiche a feste and revel make, 
 That, as I trow, I shal the Soudan quite, 
 Tor tho his wif be cristened never so whltb, - 
 She shal have nede to wash away the redo, 
 Though she a font of water with hire ledo. 
 
 O Soudannesse, rote of iniquitee. 
 Virago thou Semyramee^ the second, 
 O serpent under femininitee, 
 Like to the serpent depe in helle ybound: 
 O feined woman, all that may confound 
 Vertue and innocence, thurgh thy malice. 
 Is bred in thee, as nest of every vice. 
 
 O Sathan envious, sin thilke day 
 That thou were chased from our heritage, 
 Wei knowest thou to woman the olde way. 
 Thou madest Eva bring us in servage. 
 Thou wolt fordon- this cristen mariage : 
 Thin instrument so (wala wa the while !) 
 Makest thou of women whan thou wolt begile. 
 
 This Soudannesse, whom I thus blame and v.-arr 
 Let prively hire conseil gen hir way: 
 What shuld I in this tale longer tarie ? 
 She rideth to the Soudan on a day, 
 And sayd him, that she wold reneie hire lay. 
 And Christendom of prestes hondes fong,^ 
 EeiDenting hire she hethen was so long. 
 
 Beseching him to don hire that honour, 
 That she might han the cristen folk to fest: 
 To plesen hem I wol do my labour. 
 
 ' Samiramis. , " You wished undone. 3 Receive. 
 
803-4-838. THE MAN OF LAWES TALE. 135 
 
 The Soudan saitb., I wol don at your liest, 
 And kneling, thanked hire of that request : 
 So glad he was, he n'iste not what to say, 
 She kist hire sone, and home she goth hire way. 
 
 Arrived ben these cristen folk to londe 
 In Snrrie, with a gret solempne route, 
 And hastily this Soudan sent his sonde,' 
 First to his mother, and all the regne alooute. 
 And sayd, his w^if was comen out of doute, 
 Aud praide hem for to riden again^ the queue, 
 The honour of his regne to sustene. 
 
 Gret was the presse, and riche was th' array 
 Of Surriens and Eomanes met in fere.^ 
 The mother of the Soudan riche and gay 
 Eeceived hire with all so glad a chere, 
 As any mother might hire doughter derej 
 And to the nexte citee ther beside 
 A softe pas- solempnely they ride. 
 
 Nought trow I, the triumph of Julius, 
 Of which that Lucan maketh swiche a bost, 
 Was realler, or more curious, 
 Than was th' assemblee of this blisful host : 
 Butte this scorpion, this wicked gost,^ 
 The Soudannesse, for all hire flattering 
 Cast^ under this ful mortally to sting. 
 
 The Soudan cometh himself sone after this 
 So really,' that wonder is to tell : 
 And welcometh hire with alle joye and blis. 
 And thus in mirth and joye I let hem dwell. 
 The fruit of this matere is that I tell. 
 Whan time came, men thought it for the best 
 That revel stint,^ and men go to hir rest. 
 
 The time come is, this olde Soudannesse 
 Ordeined hath the feste of which I tolde. 
 And to the feste cristen folk hem dresse 
 In general, ya bothe yonge and olde. 
 Ther may men fest and realtee^ beholde, 
 
 » Message. 2 jo ride to meet. 3 Together. 
 
 4 At a gentle pace. ^ Spirit. 6 Devised. 
 
 7 Eoyally. 8 Cease. 9 Eoyalty. 
 
13G THE CAKTERBUBY TALES. 4S39-4873. 
 
 And d*intees mo than I can you devise, 
 But all to dere they bought it or they rise.' 
 
 O soden wo, that ever art successour 
 To worldly blis, spreint^ is with bitternesse 
 Th' ende of the joye of our worldly labour : 
 "Wo occupieth the fyn^ of our gladnesse. 
 Herken this conseil for thy sikernesse : 
 Upon thy glade day have in thy minde 
 The unware wo of harm, that cometh behinde. 
 
 For shortly for to tellen at a word, 
 The Soudan and the cristen everich on 
 Ben'^ all to-hewe, and stiked^ at the bord. 
 But it were only dame Custance alone. 
 This olde Soudannesse, this cursed crone, 
 Hath mth hire frendes don this cursed dede, 
 For she hireself wold all the contree lede. 
 
 Ne ther was Surrien non that was converted, 
 That of the conseil of the Soudan wot, 
 That he n'as all tO-hewe, er he asterted:^ 
 And Custance han they taken anon iote-hot," 
 And in a ship all stereles (God wot) 
 They han hire set, and bidden hire lerne sayle 
 Out of Surrie againward to Itaille. 
 
 A certain tresor that she thither laddcy 
 And soth to sayn, vitaille gret plentee, 
 They han hire yeven, and clothes eke she hadde. 
 And forth she sayleth in the salte see : 
 O my Custance, ful of benignitee, 
 O emperoures yonge doughter dere, 
 He that is lord of iortune be thy stere. 
 
 She blesseth hire, and with ful pitous voia 
 TJnto the crois of Crist thus sayde she. 
 O clere, o weleful auter,^ holy crois, 
 Hed of the lambes blood ful of pitee, 
 That wesh the world fro the old iniquitee, 
 
 ' They paid too dear for it ere they left the banquet. ^ Sprinkled. 
 
 5 End. 4 -yvill be. " 5 Cut down and stabbed. 
 
 6 Started to go. 7 Full speed. 8 o author of blessings. 
 
 i 
 
4S7'i-490S. THE MAN OF LAWES TALE. 137 
 
 Me fro tlie fende/ and fro his clawes kepe. 
 That day that I shal di-enchen in the depo. 
 
 Victorious tree^ protection of tre^ve, 
 That only worthy were for to here 
 The king of heven, with his woiindes newe, 
 The white lamb, that hurt was with a spere ; 
 riemer^ of fendes, out of him and here 
 On which thy limmes faithfully extendcD, 
 Me kepe, and yeve me might my lif to amended. 
 
 Yeres and dayes fleet this creature 
 Thurghout the see of Grece, unto the straite 
 Of Maroc, as it was hire aventure : 
 On many a sory mele'* now may she baite/ 
 After hire deth ful often may she waite/ 
 Or^ that the wilde waves wol hire drive 
 Unto the place ther as she shal arive. 
 
 Men mighten asken, why she was not slain ? 
 Eke at the feste who might hire body save 1 
 And I answer to that demand again, 
 Who saved Daniel in the horrible cave, 
 Ther every wight, save he, master or knave, 
 Was with the leon frette,^ or he asterte ? 
 No wight but God, that he bare in his herte. 
 
 God list to shew his wonderful miracle 
 In hire, for we shuld seen his mighty werkess 
 Crist, which that is to every harm triacle,'^ 
 By certain menes oft, as knowen clerkes, 
 Doth thing for certain ende, that ful derke is 
 To mannes wit, that for our ignorance 
 Ne can nat know his prudent purveiance.^*^ 
 
 Now sith she was not at the feste yslawe," 
 Who kepte hire fro the drenching in the see ? 
 Who kepte Jonas in the fishes mawe, 
 Til he was spouted up at Ninivee ? 
 Wei may men know, it was no wight but he 
 
 1 Fiend. 2 xhe cross. ^ Banisher. ^ Jieal. 
 
 5 Feed. •> Await. 7 Before. s Devoured 
 
 9 A remedy, a corruption from the Fr. theriaque. 
 
 10 Providence, n Slain. 
 
i38 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 4909-49-1-i 
 
 That kept the peple Ebraike fro drenching, 
 With drye feet thiirghout the see passing. 
 
 Who bade the foure spirits of tempest, 
 That power han to anoyen lond and see. 
 Both north and south, and also west and est, 
 Anoyen neyther see, ne lond, ne tree ? 
 Sothly the commander of that was he 
 That fro the tempest ay this woman kepte. 
 As wel whan she awoke as whan she slepte. 
 
 Wher might this woman mete and drinke have ? 
 Three yere and more, how lasteth hire vitaille i 
 Who fed the Egyptian Mary in the cave 
 Or in desert ? no wight but Crist sans faille^ 
 Five thousand folk it was as gret marvailla 
 With loves five and fishes two to fede : 
 God sent his foyson^ at like grete nede. 
 
 She driveth forth into our Ocean 
 Thurghout our wide see, til at the last 
 Under an hold, that nempnen" I ne can, 
 Fer in Northumberlond, the wave hire cast, 
 And in the sand hire ship stiked so fast. 
 That thennes wolde^ it not in all a tide : 
 The wille of Crist was that she shulde abide. 
 
 The constable of the castle doun is fare'* 
 To seen this wrecke, and al the ship he sought. 
 And fond^ this wery woman ful of care ; 
 He fond also the tresour that she brought : 
 In hire langage mercy she besought, 
 • The lif out of hire body for to twinne,^ 
 Hire to deliver of wo that she was inne, 
 
 A maner Latin corrupt w*as hire speche, 
 But algate" therby was she understonde. 
 The constable, whan him list no lenger seche, 
 This woful woman brought he to the londe. 
 She kneleth doun, and thanketh Goddes sonde ; 
 But what she was, she wolde no man seye 
 For foule ne f aire, though that she shulde deye. 
 
 ^ Abundance. 2 Name. 3 Thence went. 
 
 4 Gone. 5 Found. 
 
 6 Pluck, snatch. 7 Nevertheless. 
 
t9i6-4980. THE MAN OF LAWES TALE. 139 
 
 She said, slie was so mased^ in the see, 
 That she forgate hire minde, by hire trouth. 
 The constable hath of hir so gret pitee 
 And eke his wif, that they wepen for routh:^ 
 She was so diligent withouten slouth^ 
 To serve and plesen everich in that place, 
 That all hire love, that loken in hire face. 
 
 The constable and dame Hermegild his wlf 
 Were payenes,'* and that contree every wher j 
 But Hermegild loved distance as hire lif ; 
 And Custance hath so long sojourned ther 
 In orisons, with many a bitter tere, 
 Til Jesu hath converted thurgh his grace 
 Dame Hermegild, constablesse of that plac«. 
 
 In all that lond no cristen dorste route f 
 All cristen folk ben fled fro that contree 
 Thurgh payenes. that conquereden all abouta 
 The plages of the North by lond and see. 
 To Wales fled the cristianitee 
 Of olde Bretons, dwelling in this ile ; 
 Ther was hir refage for the mene while. 
 
 But yet n' ere^ cristen Bretons so exiled, 
 That ther n'ere som which in hir privitee 
 Honoured Crist, and hethen folk begiled / 
 And neigh the castle swiche ther dwelten three : 
 That on of hem was blind, and might not see, 
 But it were with thilke eyen of his minde, 
 With which men mowen see whan they ben blinde. 
 
 Bright was the sonne, as in that sommers day, 
 For which the constable and his wif also 
 And Custance, han ytake the righte way 
 Toward the see, a furlong way or two, 
 To plaien, and to romen to and fro ; 
 And in hir walk this blinde man they mette, 
 Croked and olde, with eyen fast yshette. 
 
 ' Puzzled. 2 Compassion. 3 Sloth. 
 
 4 Pagans. 5 Come. 6 Were note 
 
 7 Deceived. 
 
140 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 49 81-501 a 
 
 In the name of Crist (cried this blinde Breton) 
 Dame Hermegild, yeve me my sight again. 
 This lady wexe afraied of that soun, 
 Lest that hire husbond, shortly for to sain, 
 Wold hire for Jesu Cristes love have slain, 
 Til Custance made hire bold, and bad hire werche 
 The will of Crist, as doughter of holy cherche. 
 
 The constable wexe abashed of that sight. 
 And sayde ; What amounteth all this fare ?' 
 distance answered ; Sire, it is Cristes might, 
 That helpeth folk out of the fendes snare : 
 And so ferforth she gan our lay^ declare. 
 That she the constable, er that it were eve, 
 Converted, and on Crist made him beleve. 
 
 This constable was not lord of the place 
 Of which I speke, ther as he Custance fond 
 But kept it strongly many a winter space, 
 Under Alia, king of Northumberlond, 
 That was ful wise, and v/orthy of his hond 
 Againe the Scottes, as men may wel here ; 
 But tourne I wol againe to my matere. 
 
 Sathan," that ever us waiteth to begile, 
 Saw of Custance all hire perfectioun, 
 And cast anon how he might quite hire while,' 
 And made a yonge knight, that dwelt in that tomi, 
 Love hire so hote of foule affectioun. 
 That veraily him thought that he shuld spille/ 
 But he of hire might ones han his wille. 
 
 He woeth hire, but it avraleth nought, 
 She wolde do no sinne by no wey: 
 And for desj^it, he compassed his thought : 
 
 To maken hire on shameful deth to dey. 
 He waiteth whan the constable is away 
 
 ■" Law, creed. 
 
 ■2 The following plot of the knight against Constance, from this ver. 
 to ver. 5030. and also her adventure with the steward, from ver. 5330 
 to ver. 5314, are hoth to be found, with some small variations, in a story in 
 tlie Gesta Romanorum, ch. 101. Occleve has versified the whole story; 
 as he has another from the same collection, De Johnatha et muliere maldt 
 ch. 54. Ibid. (^CKX. Edit.) — Tyrwhitt. 
 
 3 Requite her labour. ^ Perish. 
 
i-5050. THE MAN OF LAWES TALE. 141 
 
 And prively upon a niglit lie crepte 
 
 In Hermegildes chambre while slie slepte. 
 
 Weiy, forwaked^ in hire orisons, 
 Slepetli distance, and Hermegilde also. 
 This knight, thiirgh Satlianas temptations, 
 All softely is to the bed ygo, 
 And cut the tlirote ot Hermegilde atwo, 
 And layd the blody knif by dame Custance, 
 And went his way, ther God yeve him mischance, 
 
 Sone after cometli this constable home again, 
 And eke Alia, that king was of that lond, 
 And saw his wife despitously yslain, 
 For which ful oft he wept and wrong his hond ; 
 And in the bed the blody knif he fond 
 By dame Custance, alas ! what might she say ? 
 For veray wo hire wit was all away. 
 
 To king Alia was told all this mischance. 
 And eke the time, and wlier, and in what wise, 
 That in a ship was fonden this Custance, 
 As here before ye han herd me devise : 
 The kinges herte of pitee gan agrise,- 
 Whan he saw so benigne a creature 
 Falle in disese and in misaventure. 
 
 For as the lamb toward his deth is brought. 
 So stant this innocent beforn the king : 
 This false knight, that hath this treson wrought, 
 Bereth hire in hond^ that she hath don this thing 
 But natheles ther was gret murmuring 
 Among the peple, and sayn they cannot gessa 
 That she had don so gret a wickednesse. 
 
 For they han seen hire ever so vertuous, 
 And loving Hermegild right as hire lif : 
 Of this bare witnesse everich in that hous, 
 Save he that Hermegild slow with his knif : 
 This gentil king hath caught a gret motif 
 Of this witness, and thought he wold enquere 
 Deper in this cas, trouthe for to lere. 
 
 * Having long kept awake. 2 I'o shudder. 
 
 3 Accuseth her. 
 
142 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 5051-508 & 
 
 Alas ! Custance, thou hast no champiorij 
 Ne fighten canst thou not, so wala wa ! 
 But he that starf ^ for our redemption, 
 And bond Sathan, and yet lith'^ ther he lay, 
 So be thy stronge champion this day : 
 For but if Crist on thee miracle kithe,' 
 Withouten gilt thou shalt be slaine as swithe * 
 
 She set hire doune on knees, and thus she saydej 
 Immortal God, that savedest Susanne 
 Fro false blame, and thou merciful mayde, 
 Mary I mene, doughter to seint Anne, 
 Beforn whos child angels singen Osanne, 
 If I be gilteles of this felonie, 
 My socour be, or elles shal I die. 
 
 Have ye not seen somtime a pale face 
 (Among a prees)^ of him that hath ben lad 
 Toward his deth, wher as he geteth no grace, 
 And swiche a colour in his face hath had, 
 Men mighten know him that was so bestad/ 
 Amonges all the faces in that route, 
 So stant Custance, and loketh hire aboute, 
 
 O queues living in prosperitee, 
 Duchesses, and ye ladies everich on, 
 Haveth som routhe on hire adversitee ; 
 An emperoures doughter stant alone;- 
 She hath no wight to whom to make hire mone| 
 O blood reay that stondest in this drede, 
 Fer ben^ thy frendes in thy grete nede. 
 
 This Alia king hath swiche compassioun. 
 As gentil herte is fulfilled of pitee. 
 That fro his eyen ran the water doun. 
 Now hastily do f ecche a book, quod he ; 
 And if this knight wol sweren, how that she 
 This woman slow, yet wol we us avise. 
 Whom that we wol that shal ben our justice. 
 
 1 Died. 
 
 5 I suppose, " subdued," •• softened." — See TynvMtVs gl. s. v. Lithe. 
 
 3 Shew, set forth. "* Immediately. ^ Press, crowd 
 
 6 Situated. 7 Koyal. 8 Far were. 
 
086-5125. THE MAN OF LAWES TALE, 143 
 
 A Breton book, written with Evangiles, 
 Was fet, and on this book he swore anon 
 She giltif was, and in the mene whiles 
 An hond him smote upon the nekke bone. 
 That doun he fell at ones as a stone : 
 And both his eyen brost out of his face 
 In sight of every body in that place. 
 
 A vois was herd, in general audience, 
 That sayd ; Thou hast desclandred^ gilteles 
 The doughter of holy chirche in high presence ; 
 Thus hast thou don, and yet hold I my pees. 
 Of this mervaille agast was all the prees/ 
 As mased folk they stonden everich on 
 For drede of wreche/ save Custance alone. 
 
 Gret was the drede and eke the repentance 
 Of hem that hadden wronge suspection 
 Upon this sely^ innocent Custance ; 
 And for this miracle, in conclusion, 
 And by Custances mediation. 
 The king, and many another in that place 
 Converted was, thanked be Cristes grace. ' 
 
 Tills false knight was slain for his untrouthe 
 By jugement of Alia hastily ; 
 And yet Custance had of his deth gret routhe j 
 And after this Jesus of his mercy 
 Made Alia wedden ful solempnely 
 This holy woman, that is so bright and shene, 
 And thus hath Crist ymade Custance a queue. 
 
 But who was woful (if I shal not lie) 
 Of this wedding but Donegild and no mo, 
 The kinges mother, ful of tyrannic 1 
 Hire thoughte hire cursed herte brast atwoj 
 She wolde not that hire sone had do so ; 
 Hire thoughte a despit, that he shulde take 
 So strange a creature unto his make. 
 
 Me list not of the chaf ne of the stre 
 Maken so long a tale, as of the corn. 
 "What shulde I tellen of the realtee 
 Of this mariage, or which cours goth beforn, 
 Who bloweth in a trompe or in an horn ] 
 ' Slandered. 3 Crowd. ^ Vengeance. * Harmless. 
 
 T3 
 
Hi THE CANTERBURY TALES. 5126-5162. 
 
 The fruit of every tale is for to say ; 
 
 They ete and drinke, and dance, and sing, and play. 
 
 They gon to bed, as it was skill and right, 
 For though that wives ben ful holy thinges, 
 They mosten take in patience a night 
 Swiche maner necessaries, as ben plesinges 
 To folk that han yweddecl hem with ringes, 
 And lay a lite hir holinesse aside 
 As for the time, it may no bet betide. 
 
 On hu-e he gat a knave childe^ anon, 
 And to a bishop, and his constable eke 
 He toke his wife to kepe, whan he is gon 
 To Scotland ward, his fomen for to seke. 
 Now faire Custance, that is so humble and mek© 
 So long is gon with childe til that still 
 She halt^ hire chambre, abiding Cristes will. 
 
 The time is come, a knave child she bere ; 
 Mauricius at the fontstone they him calle. 
 This constable doth forth come a messager, 
 And wrote unto his king that cleped was AUe, 
 How that this blisful tiding is befalle, 
 And other tidings spedeful for to say. 
 He hath the lettre, and forth he goth his way. 
 
 This messager, to don his avantage, 
 Unto the kinges mother rideth swithe,^ 
 And salueth"^ hire ful faire in his langage. 
 Madame, quod he, ye may be glad and blithe, 
 And thanken God dn hundred thousand sithe ; 
 My lady queue hath child, withouten doute, 
 To joye and blisse of all this regne aboute. 
 
 Lo here the lettre seled of this thing, 
 That I most bere in all the hast I may : 
 If ye wol ought unto your sone the king, 
 I am your servant bothe night and day. 
 Donegilde answerd. As now at this time nay; 
 But here I wol all night thou take thy rest, 
 To-morwe wol I say thee what me lost. 
 
 » A boy. 2 Keepeth. 3 Quickly. 4 Saluteth. 
 
5163-5201. THE MAN OF LAWES TALE. 145 
 
 This messager drank sadly ale and wine. 
 And stolen were his lettres prively 
 Out of his box, while he slept as a swine ; 
 And contrefeted was ful snbtillj 
 Another lettre, wrought ful sinfully 
 Unto the king directe oi this matere 
 Fro his constaMe^ as ye shal after hers. 
 
 This lettre spake, the queue delivered was 
 Of so horrible a fendliche^ creature, 
 That in the castle non so hardy was 
 That any while" dorste therein endure: 
 The mother was an elfe by aventure 
 Ycome, by charmes or by sorcerie, 
 And everich man hateth hire compagnie. 
 
 Wo was this king whan he this lettre had seiB, 
 But to no wight he told his sorwes sore, 
 But of his owen hand he wrote again ; 
 Welcome the sonde^ of Crist for evermore 
 To me, that am now lerned in this lore : 
 Lord, welcome be thy lust and thy plesance. 
 My lust I put all in thyn ordinance, 
 
 Kepeth this child, al be it foule or faire, 
 And eke my wif unto min home coming : 
 Crist whan him list may senden me an heu'O 
 More agreable than this to my liking. 
 This lettre he seled, prively weping, 
 Which to the messager was taken sone, 
 And forth he goth, ther is no more to done. 
 
 O messager, fulfilled of dronkenesse, 
 Strong is thy breth, thy limmes faltren ay, 
 And thou bewreiest alle secrenesse ; 
 Thy mind is lorne, thou janglest as a jay; 
 Thy face is tourned in a new array ; 
 Ther dronkenesse regneth in any route, 
 . Ther is no conseil hid withouten doute. 
 
 O Donegild, I ne have non English digne* 
 tJnto thy malice, and thy tirannie : 
 And therfore to the fende I thee resigne, 
 Let him enditen of thy traitorie. 
 
 1 Fiendlike. " Should this be « wight ?" 
 
 3 The gift, that which Christ hath sent. ^ Adequate to describe. 
 
146 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 5203-5239. 
 
 Fy mannish,^ fy ; o nay by God I lie ; 
 Fy fendliche spirit^ lor I dare wel telle, 
 Though thou here walke, thy spirit is in helle^ 
 
 This messager cometh fro the king again, 
 And at the kinges modres^ court he light^ 
 And she was of this messager ful tayn,^ 
 And j)lesea him in all that ever she might. 
 He dranke, and wel his girdel underpight;* 
 He slepeth^ and he snoreth in his gise 
 All night, u.ntil the sonne gan arise. 
 
 Eft^ were his lettres stolen everich on. 
 And contrefeted lettres in this wise. 
 The king commanded his constable anon 
 Up^ peine of hanging and of high jewise/ 
 That he ne shulde soffren in no wise 
 Custance within his regne ior to abide 
 Three dales, and a quarter of a tide ; 
 
 But in the same ship as he hire fond, 
 Hire and hire yonge sone, and all hire gere 
 He shulde put, and croude^ hire iro the lend, 
 And charge hire, that she never eft^ come there, 
 O my Custance, wel may thy ghost have iere. 
 And sleping in thy dreme ben in penance, 
 "Whan Donegild cast^° all this ordinance. 
 
 This messager on morwe whan he awoke. 
 Unto the castel halt the nexte way ; 
 And to the constable he the lettre toke ; 
 And whan that he this pitous lettre sey, 
 Ful oft he sayd alas, and wala wa ; 
 Lord Crist, quod he, how may this world endure 1 
 So ful of sinne is many a creature. 
 
 O mighty God, if that it be thy will. 
 Sin thou art rightful juge, how may it be 
 That thou wolt soffren innocence to spill" 
 And wicked folk regne in prosperitee ? 
 A good Custance, alas ! so wo is me. 
 That I mote be thy turmentour, or dey 
 On shames deth, ther is non other wey. 
 
 ' " Thou human thing !" Used I: ere as a term of reproach. 
 2 Mother's. 3 pleased, satisfied. 4 stuffed. 
 
 5 Again. 6 Upon. 7 Punishment, 
 
 s Drive. 9 Again. ^o Devised. " Perish. 
 
5240-5379. THE MAN OP LAWES TALE. 147 
 
 "Wepen both yong and old in al that place 
 Whan that the king this cursed lettre sent: 
 And distance with a dedly pale lace 
 The fourthe day toward the ship she went: 
 But natheles she taketh in good entent 
 The will of Crist, and kneling on the strond 
 She sayde, Lord, ay welcome be thy sond. 
 
 He that me kepte fro the false blame, 
 While I was in the lond amonges you, 
 He can me kepe fro harme and eke iro sham© 
 In the salt see, although I se not how : 
 As strong as ever he was, he is yet now, 
 In him trust I, and in his mother dere. 
 That is to me my sail and eke my stere. 
 
 Hire litel child lay weping in hire arnj, 
 And kneling pitously to him she said, 
 Pees, litel sone, I wol do thee no harm : 
 With that hire couverchief of her hed she braid* 
 And over his litel eyen she it laid, 
 And in hire arme she lulleth it fal last. 
 And into the heven hire eyen up she cast. 
 
 Mother, quod she, and maydenbright Marie, 
 Soth is, that thurgh womannes eggement 
 Mankind was lorne," and damned ay to die, 
 For which thy child was on a crois yrent: 
 Thy blisful eyen saw all his turment. 
 Than is ther no comparison betwene 
 Thy wo, and any wo man may sustene. 
 
 Thou saw thy child yslain before thin eyen. 
 And yet now liveth my litel child parlay :^ 
 Now, lady bright, to whom all wof ul crien, 
 Thou glory of womanhed, thou faire may, 
 Thou haven of refute, bright sterre oi day 
 Eew on my child, that of thy gentillesse 
 Eewest on every rewf al in distresse. 
 
 O litel child, alas ! what is thy gilt. 
 That never wroughtest sinne as yet parde ?* 
 Why wol thin harde father have thee spilt? 
 O mercy, dere constable, (quod she) 
 As let my litel child dwell here with thee : 
 'Took off. 2 Lost. 3 By my troth. 4pardieux. 
 
148 THE CANTEKBURY TALES. 6280-53 ICSi 
 
 And if thou darst not saven him fro blame, 
 So kisse him ones in his fadres name. 
 
 Therwith she loketh backward to the lond. 
 And saide ; Farewel, housbond routheles ! 
 And up slie rist, and walketh doun the strond 
 Toward the ship, hire foloweth all the prees:^ 
 And ever she praieth hire child to hold his pees. 
 And taketh hire leve, and with an holy entent 
 She blesseth hire, and into the ship she went. 
 
 Yitailled was the ship, it is no drede,^ 
 Habundantly for hire a ful long space : 
 And other necessaries that shuld nede 
 She had ynow, heried be Goddes grace : 
 For wind and whether, almighty God purchace^ 
 And bring hire home, I can no better say. 
 But in the see she driveth forth hire way. 
 
 Alia the king cometh home sone after thia 
 Unto his castel. of the which I told, 
 And asketh wher his Avif and his child is ; 
 The. constable gan about his herte cold. 
 And plainly all the matere he him told 
 As ye han herd, I can tell it no better, 
 And shewed the king his sele and his letter 5^ 
 
 And sayde ; Lord, as ye commanded me 
 Up peine of deth, so have I don certain. 
 This messager turmented was, til he 
 Moste beknowe, and tellen plat"^ and plain, 
 Fro night to night in what place he had lain : 
 And thus by wit and subtil enquering 
 Imagined was by whom this harm gan spring. 
 
 The hand was knowen that the lettre wrote. 
 And all the venime of this cursed dede ; 
 But in what wise, certainly I n'ot. 
 The effect is this, that Alia out of drede^ 
 His moder slew, that moun^ men plainly rede, 
 For that she traitour was to hire ligeance : 
 Thus endeth this old Donegild with meschance. 
 
 « Crowd. 2 Doubt. 3 Flat. 
 
 *» Without doubt. 6 Must 
 
6317-5351. THE MAN OF LAWES TALE. Hd 
 
 The sorwe that this Alia night and day 
 Maketh for his wif and for his child also, 
 Ther is no tonge that it tellen may. 
 But now wol I agen to Custance go, 
 That fleteth in the see in peine and wo 
 Tive yere and more, as liked Cristes sonde' 
 Or^ that hire ship approched to the londe. 
 
 Under an hethen castel at the last, 
 (Of which the name in my text I not find) 
 Custance and eke hire child the se^e up cast. 
 Almighty God, that saved all mankind. 
 Have on Custance and on hire child som mind. 
 That fiallen is in hethen hond eftsone^ 
 In point to spill, as I shal tell you sone. 
 
 Doun fro the castel cometh ther many a wight 
 To gauren'^ on this shij), and on Custance : 
 But shortly fro the castel on a night, 
 The lordes steward (God yeve him meschance) 
 A theei', tiiat had reneyed our creance, 
 Came into the shi^D alone, and said, he wolde 
 Hire lemman be, whether she wolde or n'olde.^ 
 
 "VYo was this wretched woman tho begon, 
 Hire childe cried, and she cried pitously : 
 But blisful Mary halpe^ hire right anon. 
 For with hire strogling wel and mightily 
 The theef fell over bord al sodenly. 
 And in the see he drenched for vengeance. 
 And thus hath Crist unwemmed' kept Custance. 
 
 O foule lust of luxurie, lo thin ende, 
 Nat only that thou faintest mannes mind, 
 But veraily thou wolt his body shende.^ 
 Th'ende of thy werk, or of thy lustes blinde, 
 Is complaining : how many may men find, 
 That not for werk somtime, but for th'entent 
 To don this sinne, ben other slain or shent. 
 
 ^ As it pleased Christ's will. 2 Before. 3 Presently. 
 
 4 Gaze. 6 Would not, 6 Helped. 
 
 7 Unspotted, undefiled. 8 Kuin. 
 
100 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 5352-5391. 
 
 How may this weke woman lian the strength 
 Hire to defend again this renegate ? 
 
 Golias, nnmesurable of length, 
 
 How mighte David maken thee so mate ?* 
 So yonge, and of armure so desolate, 
 How dorst he loke upon thy drediul face ? 
 "Wei may men seen it was but Goddes grace. 
 
 Who yaf2 Judith corage or hardinesse 
 To sleen him Holof ernes in his tent. 
 And to deliver out of wretchednesse 
 The peple ol God? I say for this entent, 
 That right as God spirit of vigour sent 
 To hem, and saved hem out of meschance, 
 So sent he might and vigour to Ciistance. 
 
 Forth goth hire ship thurghout the narwe mouth. 
 Oi Jubaltare-"^ and Septe,* driving alway, 
 Somtime West, and somtime North and South, 
 And somtime Est, lul many a vf ery day : 
 Til Cristes moder (blessed be she ay) 
 Hath shapen thurgh hire endeles goodnesse 
 To make an end of all hire hevinesse. 
 
 ISTow let us stint of Custance but a throw. 
 And speke we of the Eomane emperour, 
 That out of Surrie hath by lettres knowe 
 The slaughter of cristen folk, and dishonour 
 Don to his doughter by a false traitour, 
 
 1 mene the cursed wicked Soudannesse, 
 That at the lest let sleen° both more and lesse. 
 
 For which this emperour hath sent anon 
 His senatour, with real ordinance, 
 And other lordes, God wote, many on, 
 On Surriens to taken high vengeance : 
 They brennen, sleen, and bring hem to meschance 
 Ful many a day: but shortly this is th'ende, 
 Homward to Eome they shapen hem to wende. 
 
 This senatour repaireth with victorie 
 To Eome ward, sayling ful really, 
 And met the ship driving, as saith the storie, 
 In which Custance sittetli ful pitously : 
 Nothing ne knew he what she was, ne why 
 
 ' Feeble, dead. 2 Gave. 3 Gibraltar. 
 
 * Ceuta, formerly Septa, opposite Gibraltar. 5 Caused to be slain. 
 
5393-5428. THE MAN OF LAWES TALE. 151 
 
 She was in swiche array, ne she wil sey- 
 Of hire estat, though that she shulde dey. 
 
 He bringeth hire to Eome, and to his wif 
 He yaf hke, and hire yonge sone also . 
 And with the senatoiir she lad hire lif. 
 Thus can our lady bringen out ol wo 
 Woful Custance, and many another mo : 
 And longe time dwelled she in that place. 
 In holy werkes ever, as was hire grace 
 
 The senatoures wif hire aunte was, 
 But for all that she knew hire never the mores 
 I wol no longer tarien in this cas, 
 But to king Alia, which I spake of yore, 
 That for his wii wepeth and siketh sore, 
 I wol returne, and let I woi Custance 
 Under the senatoures governance. 
 
 King Alia, v/hich that had his moder slain. 
 Upon a day tell in swiche repentance, 
 That if I shortly tellen shal and plain. 
 To Eome he cometh to receive his penance, 
 And putte him in the popes ordinance 
 In high and low, and Jesu Crist besought, 
 Foryeve his wicked werkes that he had vv^rought. 
 
 The fame anon thurghout the toun is born. 
 How Alia king shal come on pilgrimage. 
 By herbergeours- that wenten him beforn, 
 For which the senatour, as was usage, 
 Eode him againe, and many of his linage, 
 As wel to shewen his high magnificence. 
 As to don any king a reverence. 
 
 Gret chere doth this noble senatour 
 To king Alia, and he to him also ; 
 Everich of hem doth other gret honour; 
 And so befell, that in a day or two 
 This senatour is to king Alia go 
 To fest, and shortly, if I shal not lie, 
 Custances sone went in his compagnie, 
 
 • Say, speak. 8 Harbingers, caterers for lodgings. 
 
152 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 5429-54 
 
 Som men wold sain^ at requeste of Custance 
 This senatour hath lad this child to festej 
 I may not tellen every circumstance, 
 Ee as be may, ther was he at the leste : 
 But soth is this, that at his mothers heste 
 Beforn Alia, during the metes space," 
 The child stood, loking in the kinges face. 
 
 This Alia king hath of this child gret wonder, 
 And to the senatour he said anon, 
 Whos is that faire child that stondeth yonder? 
 
 1 no't, quod he, by God and by Seint John; 
 A moder he hath, but fader hath he non, 
 That I of wote : but shortly in a stound"* 
 He told Alia how that this child was found, 
 
 But God wot, quod this senatour also, 
 So vertuous a liver in all my lif 
 Ne saw I never, as she, ne herd of mo 
 Of worldly woman, maiden, widewe or wif : 
 I dare wel sayn hire hadde lever'^ a knit 
 Thurghout hire brest, than ben a woman wikke* 
 Ther is no man could bring her to that prikke. 
 
 Now was this child as like unto Custance 
 As possible is a creature to be : 
 This Alia hath the face in remembrance 
 Of dame Custance, and thereon mused he, 
 If that the childes moder were aught she 
 That is his wif, and prively he sighte,^ 
 And sped him fro the table that he mighte. 
 
 Parfay, thought he, fantome'' is in min hed. 
 I ought to deme of skilful jugement, 
 That in the salte see my wif is ded. 
 And afterward he made his argument ; 
 "What wot I, if that Crist have hider^ sent 
 My wif by see, as wel as he hire lent 
 To my contree, fro thennes that she went ? 
 
 1 Say that. 
 
 2 I.e., during an intervrsl between tlie courses of the dinner. 
 
 8 Moment. ^ i^iever, sooner. 5 Wicked, 
 
 « Sighed. ^ Some fancy. 8 Hither. 
 
5464?-5498. THE MAN OP LAWES TALE. 153 
 
 And after noon home with the senatonr 
 Goth Alia, for to see this wonder chance. 
 This senatour doth Alia gret honour, 
 And hastily he sent after Custance : 
 But trusteth^ wel, hire luste not to dance. 
 Whan that she wiste wherfore was that sonde, 
 Unnethe upon hire feet she mighte stonde. 
 
 Wlian Alia saw his wif, faire he hire grette, 
 And wept, that it was routhe for to see, 
 For at the firste look he on hire sette 
 He knew wel veraily that it was she : 
 And she for sorwe, as domb stant as a tree : 
 So was hh-e herte shette^ in hire distresse, 
 Whan she remembered his unkindenesse. 
 
 Twies she swouneth in his owen sight, 
 He wepeth and him excuseth pitously : 
 Now. God, quod he, and all his halwes^ bright 
 So wisly^ on my soule as' have mercy, 
 That of youre harme as gilteles am I, 
 As is Maurice my sone, so like your face, 
 Elles the fend^ me fetche out of this place. 
 
 Long was the sobbing and the bitter peine. 
 Or that hir woful hertes mighten cese, 
 Gret was the pitee for to here hem pleine, 
 Thurgh whiche pleintes gan hir wo encrese, 
 I pray you all my labour to relese, 
 I may not tell hir wo until to-morwe, 
 I am so wery for to speke of sorwe. 
 
 But finally, whan that the soth^ is wist. 
 That Alia gilteles was of hire wo, 
 I trow an hundred times han they kist, 
 And swiche a blisse is ther betwix hem two, 
 That save the joye that lasteth evermo, 
 Ther is non like, that any creature 
 Hath seen or shal, while that the world may dure. 
 
 ' Trust ye. 2 Overwhelmed. 
 
 3 Holiness, holy things or beings. "All hallows." 
 * Truly, certainly. 
 
 5 Take " as" with " so" as a mere redundancy of expression ; Sic 
 mniiino, ut. Fiend. 7 Truth. 
 
154 THE CANTERBUrtY TALES. C490-5536. 
 
 Tho praied she hire husbond mekely 
 In releef of hke loiige pitous pme, 
 That he wold pray hire fader specially, 
 That of his niagestee he wold encline 
 To vouchesauf som day with him to dine: 
 She praied him eke, he shulde by no way 
 Unto hire fader no word of hire say. 
 
 Som men wold sayn, how that the child Maurice 
 Doth this message until this emperonr; 
 But as I gesse, Alia was not so nice, 
 To him that is so soveraine of honour. 
 As he that is of cristen folk the flour, 
 Send any chik], but it is bet to deme 
 He went himself, and so it may wel seme. 
 
 This emperour hath granted gentilly 
 To come to dinner, as he him besoughte : 
 And wel rede I, he loked besily 
 Upon this child, and on his doughter thought. 
 Alia goth to his inne, and as him ought 
 Arraied for this feste in every wise, 
 As feriorth^ as his conning may suffice. 
 
 The morwe came, and Alia gan him dresse, 
 And eke his wit], this emperour to mete : 
 And forth they ride in joye and in gladnesse. 
 And whan she saw hire fader in the strete. 
 She light adoun and falleth him to fete. 
 Fader, quod she, your yonge child Custance 
 Is now lul clene out of your remembrance. 
 
 I am your doughter, your Custance, quod she. 
 That whilom ye han sent into Surrie ; 
 It am I, fader, that in the salte see 
 Was put alone, and dampned for to die. 
 Now, go ode fader, I you mercy crie. 
 Send me no more into non hethenesse. 
 But thanketh my lord here of his kindenesse. 
 
 Who can the pitous joye tellen all 
 Betwix hem thre, sin they ben thus ymette ? 
 But of my tale make an ende I shal, 
 
 » Far forth, completely. 
 
37-55/3. THE MAN OP LAWES TALE. 155 
 
 The day goth fast, I wol no longer lette. 
 Tliise glade folk to dinner ben ysette, 
 In joy and blisse at mete I let hem dwell, 
 A thousand fold wel more than I can tell. 
 
 This child Manrice was sithen emperour 
 Made by the pope, and lived cristenly, 
 To Cristes chirche did he gret honour: 
 But I let all his storie passen by, 
 Of Custance is my tale specially, 
 In the olde Eomane gestes^ men may find, 
 Maurices lif, I bere it not in mind. 
 
 This king Alia, when he his time sey, 
 With his Custance, his holy wif so swete, 
 To Engiond ben they come the righte wey, 
 Ther as they live in joye and in quiete. 
 But litel while it lasteth I you hete,- 
 Joye of this world for time wol not abide, 
 Fro day to night it changeth as the tide. 
 
 Who lived ever in swiche delite o day, 
 That him ne meved^ other conscience, 
 Or ire, or talent, or som kin affray, 
 Envie, or pride, or passion, or offence ? 
 I ne say but for this end this sentence, 
 That litel while in joye or in plesance 
 Lasteth the blisse of Alia with Custance. 
 
 For deth, that taketh of hie and low his rente. 
 Whan passed was a yere, even as I gesse, 
 Out Oi this world this king Alia he hente, 
 For whom Custance hath ful gret hevinesse. 
 Now let us praien God his soule blesse : 
 And dame Custance, finally to say. 
 Toward the toun of Eome goth hire way. 
 
 To Eome is come this holy creature. 
 And findeth ther hire f rendes hole and sound ; 
 Now is she scaped all hu-e aventure : 
 And whan that she hire fader hath yfound, 
 Doun on hire knees falleth she to ground, 
 
 ' /. e., the gesta Romanorwii. 2 Promise. 
 
 3 Moved, stirred up. 
 U 
 
156 THE CANTERBUKY TALES. 5574-5582. 
 
 Weping for tendernesse in lierte blithe 
 
 She herieth God an hundred thousand sitho.* 
 
 In vertue and in holy almesse dede 
 They liven alle, and never asonder wende : 
 Till deth departeth hem, this lif they lede : 
 And fareth now wel, my tale is at an ende. 
 Now Jesu Crist, that of his might may sende 
 Joye after wo, governe us in his grace, 
 And kepe us alle that ben in this place. 
 
 1 Times. 
 
157 
 
 THE WIF OF BATHES PROLOGURi 
 
 5583-5614. 
 
 Experience, though, non auctoritee 
 "Were in this world, is right jnoiigh for me 
 To speke of wo that is in mariage : 
 For, lordings, sin I twelf yere was of age, 
 (Thanked be God that is eterne on live) 
 Husbondes at chirche dore have I had five^ 
 (If I so often might han wedded be) 
 And all were worthy men in hir degree. 
 
 But me was told, not longe time agon is, 
 That sithen Crist ne went never but onis^ 
 To wedding, in the Cane of Galilee, 
 That by that ilke^ ensample taught he me, 
 That I ne shulde wedded be but ones. 
 Lo, herke eke, which a sharpe word for the none% 
 Beside a welle Jesu, God and man. 
 Spake in reprefe of the Samaritan : 
 Thou hast yhadde five husbonds, sayde he ; 
 And thilke man, that now hath wedded thee, 
 Is not thyn husbond : thus said he certain ; 
 What that he ment therby, I can not sain. 
 But that I aske, why that the fifthe man 
 Was non husbond to the Samaritan ? 
 How many might she have in mariage ? 
 Yet herd I never tellen in min age 
 Upon this noumbre diffinitioun; 
 Men may devine, and glosen up and doun. 
 
 But wel I wot, expresse withouten lie 
 God bad us for to wex^ and multiplie ; 
 That gentil text can I wel understond. 
 Eke wel I wot, he sayd, that min husbond 
 Shuld leve fader and moder, and take to me; 
 But of no noumbre mention made he, 
 
 * On the reasons for placing this prologue next to the Man of Lawes 
 Tale, see Tyrwldtt, Discourse I. xvi., and notes. 
 2 Once. 3 Like. ^ Wax, increase. 
 
15S THE CANTERBUEY TALES. 6615-5C5Q. 
 
 Of bigamie or of octogamie ; 
 
 Why shuld men than speke oi it vilanie ? 
 
 Lo here the wise king Dan^ Salomon, 
 I trow he hadde wives mo than on, 
 (As wolde God it leful were to me 
 To be refreshed halt so oft as he) 
 Which a gift of God had he for alle his wives ? 
 No man hath swiche-, that in this world on live ia, 
 God wot, this noble king, as to my witte, 
 The firste night had many a mery fitte 
 With eche of hem, so wel was him on live. 
 Blessed be God that I have wedded five, 
 Welcome the sixthe whan that ever he shall. 
 For sith I wol not kepe me chaste in all, 
 Whan min husbond is fro the world ygon, 
 Som cristen man shal wedden me anon. 
 For than the apostle saith, that T am fre 
 To wedde, a' goddes half, wher it liketh me. 
 He saith, that to be wedded is no sinne ; 
 Better is to be wedded than to brinne. 
 
 What rekketh me though folk say vilanie 
 Of shrewed^ Laraech, and his bigamie ? 
 I wot wel Abraham was an holy man. 
 And Jacob eke, as fer as ever I can. 
 And eche oi hem had wives mo than two. 
 And many another holy man also. 
 Wher can ye seen in any maner age 
 That highe God defended^ manage 
 By expresse word ? I pray you telleth me. 
 Or wher commanded he virginitee 1 
 
 I wot as wel as ye, it is no drede, 
 The apostle, whan he spake of maidenhede. 
 He said, that precept theroi had he non: 
 Men may conseille a woman to ben on,* 
 But conseilling is no commandement ; 
 He put it in our owen jugement. 
 
 For hadde God commanded maidenhede, 
 Than had he dampned wedding out oi drede f 
 And certes, of ther were no sede ysowe, 
 Virginitee than wherof shuld it growe ? 
 
 Poule^ dorste not commanden at the lest 
 A thing, of which his maister yaf non best. 
 1 Lord. 2 Wicked. 3 Limitea 
 
 * To be one, i.e. to be a nun. ^ Doubt. ^ gt. Paul, 
 
5657-5690. THE WIP OP BATHES PROLOGUE. 150 
 
 The dart is sette up lor virginitee, 
 
 Catch who so may, who renneth best let see. 
 
 But this word is not take of every wight, 
 
 But ther^ as God wol yeve it ol his might. 
 
 I wot wel that the apostle was a maid, 
 
 But natheles, though that he wrote and said, 
 
 He wold that every wight were swiche as he. 
 
 All n'is but conseil to virginitee. 
 
 And for to ben a wi£ he yai me leve, 
 
 Of indulgence, so n'is it non repreve^ 
 
 To wedden me, if that my make die, 
 
 Withoute exception of bigamie; 
 
 All were it good no woman for to touche, 
 
 (He ment as in his bed or in his couche) 
 
 For peril is both fire and tow to assemble -^ 
 
 Ye know what this ensample may resemble. 
 
 This is all and som, he held virginitee 
 More parfit than wedding in ireeltee :^ 
 (Freeltee clepe'^ I, but if that he and she 
 "Wold lede hir lives all in chastitee) 
 I graunt it wel, I have Ox non envie, 
 "Who maidenhed preferre to bigamie ; 
 It liketh hem to be clene in body and gost : 
 Of min estat I wol not maken bost. 
 
 For wel ye know, a lord in his houshold 
 Ne hath nat every vessell all of gold : 
 Som ben of tree f and don hir lord service. 
 God clepeth folk to him in sondry wise. 
 And everich hath of God a propre gift, 
 Som this, som that, as that him liketh shift. 
 Virginitee is gret perfection. 
 And continence eke with devotion : 
 But Crist, that of perfection is welle, 
 Ne bade not every wight he shulde go selle 
 All that he had, and yeve it to the poure. 
 And in swiche wise folow him and his lore:^ 
 He spake to hem that wold live parfitly, 
 And, lordings, (by your leve) that am nat I ; 
 I wol bestow the flour of all myn age 
 In th' actes and the fruit of mariage. 
 
 ^ Of those to whom. 2 Eeproach. 
 
 3 I.e., to bring them together. ■* Frailty. 
 
 6 Say. 6 Wood. 7 Commandment, 
 
IGO THE Ci^iJTTERBURY TALES. 5G97-5738. 
 
 Tell me also, to "what conclusion 
 "Were membres made of generation, 
 And of so parfit wise a wight ywrouglit? 
 Trusteth me wel, they were nat made for nought. 
 Glose who so wol, and say hothe np and doun, 
 That they were made for purgatioun 
 Of urine, and of other thinges smale. 
 And eke to know a female from a male : 
 And for non other cause ? say ye no ? 
 The experience wot wel it is not so. 
 So that the clerkes be not with me wroth, 
 I say this, that they maked ben for both, 
 This is to sayn, for office, and for ese 
 Oi engendrure, ther we not God displese. 
 Why shuld men elles in hir bookes sette, 
 That man shal yelden to his wif hire dette? 
 Now wherwith shuld he make his payement^ 
 If he ne used his sely^ instrument ? 
 Than were they made upon a creature 
 To p':irge urine, and eke for engendrure. 
 
 But I say not that every wight is hold, 
 That hath swiche harneis as I to you told. 
 To gon and usen hem in engendrure ; 
 Than shuld men take of chastitee no cure.' 
 Crist was a maide, and shapen as a man. 
 And many a seint, sith that this world began. 
 Yet lived they ever in parfit chastitee. 
 I n'ill envie with no virginitee. 
 Let hem with bred of pured whete be fed, 
 And let us wives eten barly bred. 
 And yet with barly bred, Mark tellen can, 
 Our Lord Jesu refreshed many a man. 
 In swiclie estat as God hath cleped'^ us, 
 I wol persever, I n'am not precious,'^ 
 In wifhode wol I use min instrument 
 As frely as my maker hath it sent. 
 If I be dangerous God yeve me sorwe, 
 Min husbond shal it have both even and morwe, 
 Whan that him list come forth and pay his dette. 
 An husbond wol I have, I wol not lette, 
 Which shal be both my dettour and my thrall/ 
 And have his tribulation withall 
 1 Harmless. 2 Care. 3 Called. 
 
 * Overnlce. 5 Slave. 
 
5739-57S0. THE WIF OF BATHES PEOLOGUE. 161 
 
 Upon his flesh, while that I am his wif. 
 I have the power during all my lif 
 Upon his propre body, and nat he ; 
 Eight thus the apostle told it unto me, 
 And bad our husbonds for to love us wel ; 
 All this sentence me liketh every del. 
 
 Up stert the pardoner, and that anon ; 
 Now, dame, quod he, by God and by Seint John, 
 Ye ben a noble prechour in this cas. 
 I was about to wed a wif, alas ! 
 What ? shuld I bie^ it on my flesh so dere ? 
 Yet had I lever wed no wif to-yere. 
 
 Abide, quod she, my tale is not begonne. 
 Nay, thou shalt drinken of another tonne 
 Er that I go, shal savour worse than ale. 
 And whan that I have told thee forth my tale 
 Of tribulation in mariage. 
 Of which I am expert in all min age, 
 (This is to sayn, myself hath ben the whippe) 
 Than maiest thou chesen wheder thou wolt sipp© 
 Of thilke tonne, that I shal abroche. 
 Beware of it, er thou to neigh approche. 
 For I shal tell ensamples mo than ten : 
 Who so that n'ill beware by other men 
 By him shal other men corrected be : 
 Thise same wordes writeth Ptholomee, 
 Eede in his Almageste, and take it there. 
 
 Dame, I wold pray you, if your will it were, 
 Sayde this pardoner, as ye began. 
 Tell forth your tale, and spareth for no man, 
 And techeth us yonge men of your practike. 
 
 Gladly, quod she, sin that it may you like. 
 But that I pray to all this compagnie, 
 If that I speke after my fantasie. 
 As taketh not a greefe of that I say. 
 For min entente is not but for to play. 
 
 Now, sires, than wol I tell you forth my tale. 
 As ever mote I drinken win or ale 
 I shal say soth, the husbondes that I had " 
 As three of hem were good, and two were bad. 
 The three were goode men and riche and olde. 
 Unethes mighten they the statute holde, 
 
162 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 6781-5814* 
 
 In which that they were bonnden unto me. 
 
 Ye wot Avel what I mene of this parde.^ 
 
 As God me heljDe, T langh whan that I thinke, 
 
 How pitously a-night I made hem swinke, . 
 
 But by my fay, I tolde of it no store : 
 
 They had me yeven hir lond and hir tresore, 
 
 Me neded not do lenger diligence 
 
 To win hir love, or don hem reverence. 
 
 They loved me so wel by God above, 
 
 That I ne tolde no deintee of- hir love. 
 
 A wise woman wol besie^ hire ever in on 
 
 To geten hir love, ther as she hath non. 
 
 But sith I had hem holly in min hond, 
 
 And that they hadde yeven me all hir lond, 
 
 What shuld I taken kepe hem for to plese. 
 
 But it were for my profit, or min ese ? 
 
 I set hem so a-werke by my fay, 
 
 That many a night they songen wala wa. 
 
 The bacon was not fet for hem, I trow, 
 
 That som men have in Essex at Donmow.^ 
 
 I governed hem so wel after my lawe, 
 
 That eche of hem ful blisful was and fawe'^ 
 
 To bringen me gay thinges fro the feyre. 
 
 They were ful glade wdian I spake hem fayre,* 
 
 For God it wot, I chidde hem spitously. 
 
 Now herkeneth how I bare me proiDre'ly. 
 
 Ye wise wives, that can understond, 
 Thus shul ye speke, and here hem wrong on hond, 
 j For half so boldely can ther no man 
 J Sweren and lien as a w^oman can. 
 (I say not this by wives that ben wise, 
 But if it be whan they hem misavise.) 
 A wise wif if that she can^ hire good, 
 Shal beren hem on hond the cow is wood,** 
 
 1 Par dieux. " Set no value upon. " Busy. 
 
 ■* See Blount's Ant. Tenures, p. 162, and F. P. 446. This whimsical 
 institution was not peculiar to Dunmow. There was the same in 
 Bretagne. " A I'Abbaie Sainct Melaine, pres Eennes, y a, plus de six 
 cens ans sont, un coste de lard encore tout frais et non corrompu ; et 
 neantmoins voue et ordonne aux premiers, qui par an et jour ensemble 
 mariez ont vescu san debat, grondement, et sans s'en repentir." — Contes 
 d'Eutrap, t. ii. p. 161. — Tyrivhitt. See Brand's Antiquities, v. 13, 
 p. 177, sqq. 
 
 5 Was fain, glad, 6 Fair. ' Know. 
 
 ' Shall make them believe falsely, the cow is wood. The latter words, 
 may either signify that the cow is mad, or made of wood. "Which of the 
 
5 81 5-5 850. THE WIP OF BATHES PROLOGUE. 163 
 
 And taken witnesse of hire owen mayd 
 Of hir assent : but lierkeneth how I sayd. 
 
 Sh^e olde kaynard/ is this thin aray ? 
 Why is my neigheboiires wif so gay ? 
 She is honoured over al wher she goth, 
 T sit at home, I have no thrifty cloth. 
 What dost thou at my neigheboures hous I 
 Is she so faire 1 art thou so amorous ? 
 What rownest^ thou with our maide ? henedicite. 
 Sire olde lechour, let thy japes be. 
 
 And if I have a gossib, or a frend, 
 (Withouten gilt) thou chidest as a fend,^ 
 If that I walke or i^lay unto his hous. 
 
 Thou comest home as dronken as a mous, 
 And prechest on thy benche, with evil prefe :* 
 Thou sayst to me, it is a gret meschiefe 
 To wed a poure woman, for costage f 
 And if that she be riche of high parage,^ 
 Than sayst thou, that it is a tourmentrie 
 To soffre hire pride and hire melancolie. 
 A-nd if that she be faire, thou veray knave, 
 Thou sayst that every holour'' wol hire have. 
 She may no while in chastitee abide, 
 That is assailled upon every side. 
 Thou sayst som folk desire us for richesse, 
 Som for our shape, and som for our fairnesse. 
 And som, for she can other^ sing or dance. 
 And som for gentillesse and daliance, 
 Som for hire hondes and hire armes smalo : 
 Thus goth all to the devil by thy tale. 
 Thou sayst, men may not kepe a castel wal, 
 It may so long assailled be over al. 
 And if that she be foul, thou sayst, that she 
 Coveteth every man that she may see ; 
 For as a spaniel, she wol on him lepe, 
 Til she may finden som man hire to chepe. 
 
 two is the preferable interpretation, it will be safest not to determina 
 till we can discover the old story to which this phrase seems to be a 
 proverbial allusion. 
 
 ' Kascal, probably derived from canis. " Whisperest. 
 
 3 Fiend. 
 
 4 I. e.. May it prove evil to thee ! — a sort of parenthetical curse, 
 
 5 Expense. ^ Kindred. 
 ' Debauchee. s Either. 
 
164 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 5851-589C 
 
 Ne non so grey goos goth ther in tlie lake, 
 (As sayst thou) that wol ben ■withoute a make. 
 And sayst, it is an hard thing for to welde^ 
 A thing, that no man wol, his thankes, helde. 
 
 Thus sayst thou, lorel,^ whan thou gost to bed, 
 And that no wise man nedeth for to wed, 
 Ne no man that entendeth unto heven. 
 With wilde thonder dint^ and firy leven 
 Mote thy welked^ nekke be to-broke. 
 
 Thou sayst, that dropping houses, and eke smoke 
 And chiding wives maken men to flee 
 Out of hir owen hous; a, henedicite, 
 What aileth swiche an old man for to chide ? 
 
 Thou sayst, we wives wol our vices hide, 
 Til we be last, and than we wol hem shewe. 
 Wei may that be a proverbe of a shrewe. 
 
 Thou sayst, that oxen, asses, hors, and houndes. 
 They ben assaied at diverse stoundes,^ 
 Basines, lavoures,*^ or that men hem bie, 
 Spones, stooles, and all swiche husbondrie. 
 And so ben pottes, clothes, and aray, 
 But folk of wives maken non assay, 
 Til they ben wedded, olde dotard shrewe ! 
 And than, sayst thou, we wol our vices shewo. 
 
 Thou sayst also, that it displeseth me, 
 But if that thou wolt preisen my beautee,' 
 And but thou pore alway upon my face, 
 And clej)e me faire dame in every place ; 
 And but thou make a teste on thilke day 
 That I was borne, and make me fresh and gay| 
 And but thou do to my norice^ honour, 
 And to my chamberere'' within my bour,^ 
 And to my faders folk, and myn allies ; 
 Thus sayst thou, olde barel ful of lies. 
 
 And yet also of our prentis Jankin, 
 For his crispe here, shining as gold so fin, 
 And for he squiereth me both u]3 and doun, 
 Yet hast thou caught a false suspection: 
 I wol him nat, though thou were ded to-morwe. 
 
 But tell me this, why hidest thou with sorwe 
 
 * Govern. 2 Scamp, goocT-for-nought. 3 stroke. 
 
 4 Rotten. 5 Times, seasons. 6 Lavers. 
 
 Nurse. ^ Chambermaid. ^ House. 
 
B891-5926. THE WIP OP BATHES PEOLOGUE. 165 
 
 The keies of thy chest away fro me ? 
 It is my good' as wel as thin parde." 
 What, wenest thou make an idiot of our dame ? 
 Now by that Lord that cleped is Saint Jame, 
 Thou s'halt nat bothe, though that thou were wood,^ 
 Be maister of my body and of my good^ 
 That on thou shalt forgo maugre^ thin eyen. 
 What helpeth oi me to enquere and spien ? 
 I trow thou woldest locke me in thy cheste. 
 Thou shuldest say, Fayr wif, go wher thee leste f 
 Take your disport ; I wol not leve no tales ; 
 I know you for a trewe wif, dame Ales. 
 
 We love no man, that taketh kepe*' or charge 
 Wher that we gon, we wol be at our large. 
 Of alle men yblessed mote he be 
 The wise astrologien Dan-'' Ptholomee, 
 That sayth this proverbe in his Almageste : 
 Of alle men his wisdom is higheste, 
 That rekketh not who hath the world in hond. 
 By this proverbe thou shalt wel understond, 
 Have thou ynough, what thar thee rekke or care 
 How merily that other folkes fare ? 
 For certes, olde dotard, by your leve, 
 Ye shuUen have queint right ynough at eve. 
 He is to gret a nigard that wol werne^ 
 A man to light a candel at his lanterne ; 
 He shal have never the lesse light parde. 
 Have thou ynough, thee thar non plainen thee. 
 
 Thou sayst also, if that we make us gay 
 With clothing and with precious array, 
 That it is peril of our chastitee. 
 And yet, with sorwe, thou enforcest thee. 
 And sayst thise wordes in the apostles name: 
 In habit made with chastitee and shame 
 Ye women shul appareile you, (quod he) ; 
 And nat in tressed here/ and gay perrie,^^ 
 
 ^ Goods, property. 2 par dieux. 
 
 2 Mad. 4 Despite. ^ It pleaseth thee. 
 
 ^ Care. 7 Lord. 
 
 s Warne here seems to mean " refuse." This sense is borne out, ! 
 think, by a passage of Ennius in Cicero de Off. 1. i. : 
 " Homo, qui erranti comiter monstrat viam. 
 Quasi de suo lumine lumen accendat, facit. 
 Nihilominus ut ipsi luceat, quivis illi accenderit." 
 which passage Chaucer appears to have had in mind. — Ed. 
 
 9 Have gathered into tresses. 10 Jewellery. 
 
166 THE CANTEKBURY TALES. 5927-5966. 
 
 As perles, ne witli gold, ne clothes riclie. 
 
 After tliy text, ne after thy rubriche 
 I wol not work as mochel as a gnat. 
 
 Thou sayst also, I walke out like a cat ; 
 For who so wolde senge the cattes skin, 
 Than w^ol the cat wel dwellen in hire in ; 
 And if the cattes skin be sleke and gay, 
 She wol nat dwellen in hous half a day, 
 But forth she wol, or any day be dawed, 
 To shew hire skin, and gon a caterwawed.* 
 This is to say, if I be gay, sire shrewe, 
 I wol renne out, my boreP for to shewe. 
 Sire olde fool, what helpeth thee to spien ? 
 Though thou pray Argus with his hundred eyen 
 To be my wardecorps,^ as he can best. 
 In faith he shal not kepe me but me lest :'* 
 Yet coude I make his berd, so mote I the.^ 
 
 Thou sayest eke, that ther ben thinges three, 
 Which thinges gretly troublen all this erthe, 
 And that no wight ne may endure the ferthe :'' 
 O lefe sire shrewe, Jesu short thy lif. 
 
 Yet pre chest thou, and sayst, an hateful wif 
 Yrekened is for on of thise meschances. 
 Be ther non other maner resemblances 
 That ye may liken your parables to. 
 But if a sely' wif be on of tho 1 
 
 Thou likenest eke womans love to helle, 
 To barrein lond, ther water may not dwelle. 
 
 Thou likenest it also to wilde fire ; 
 The more it brenneth, the more it hath desire 
 To consume every thing, that brent wol be. 
 
 Thou sayest, right as wormes shende^ a tre, 
 Bight so a wif destroieth hire husbond ; 
 This knowen they that ben to wives bond. 
 
 Lordings, right thus, as ye han understond, 
 Bare I stifly min old husbondes on hond. 
 That thus they saiden in hir dronkennesse ; 
 And all was false, but as I toke witnesse 
 On Jankin, and upon my nece also. 
 O Lord, the peine I did hem, and the wo, 
 1 A caterwauling. 
 
 * Borel here means clothing in general ; elsewhere it is used for a 
 coarse brown cloth. 3 Body-guard. 
 
 4 Except I be willing. 5 go may I thrive. 
 
 6 Fourth. 7 Silly. s Destroy. 
 
5967-6006. THE WIP OF BATHES PROLOGUE. 167 
 
 Fill gilteles, by Goddes swete pine ;^ 
 
 For as an hors, I conde bite and whine ; 
 
 I coude plain, and I was in the gilt, 
 
 Or elles oftentime I had ben spilt. 
 
 Who so first Cometh to the mill, first grint ; 
 
 I plained first, so was our werre ystint."^ 
 
 They were ful glad to excusen hem ful blive' 
 
 Of thing, the which they never agilt hir live^ 
 
 Of wenches wold I beren hem on hond,^ 
 
 Whan that for sike^ unnethes might they stond. 
 
 Yet tikeled I his herte for that he 
 
 Wend that I had of him so gret chiertee '7 
 
 1 swore that all my walking out by night 
 
 Was for to esj)ien wenches that he dight :^ 
 
 Under that colour had I many a mirth. 
 
 For all swiche wit is yeven us in our birth ; 
 
 Deceite, weping, spinning, God hath yeven 
 
 To women kindly, while that they may liven. 
 
 And thus of o thing I may avaimten me, 
 
 At th'ende I had the beter in eche degree, 
 
 By sleight or force, or by som maner thing, 
 
 As by continual murmur or grutching, 
 
 Namely a-bed, ther hadden they meschance, • 
 
 Ther wold I chide, and don hem no plesance 
 
 I wold no lenger in the bed abide, 
 
 If that I felt his arme over my side, 
 
 Til he had made his raunson unto me, 
 
 Than wold I soflfre him do his nicetee. 
 
 And therfore every man this tale I tell, 
 
 Winne who so may, for all is for to sell : 
 
 With empty hond men may no haukes lurej 
 
 For winning wold I all his lust endure. 
 
 And maken me a feined appetit. 
 
 And yet in bacon had I never delit : 
 
 That maked me that ever I wold hem chide. 
 
 For though the pope had sitten hem beside, 
 
 I wold not spare hem at hir owen bord. 
 
 For by my trouthe I quitte hem word for word. 
 
 As helpe me veray God omnipotent, 
 
 Tho I right now shuld make my testament, 
 
 » Sufferings. 2 Battle stopped. 3 Eeaday. 
 
 4 Sinned, offended. ^ Blame them falsely. 
 
 6 Sickness. 7 Affection. » Dressed. 
 
 15 
 
168 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 6007-C04S- 
 
 I ne owe hem not a word, that it n'is quit, 
 I brouglit it so abouten by my wit, 
 That they must yeve it up, as for the best, 
 Or elles had we never ben in rest. 
 Tor though he loked as a wood leon, 
 Yet shuld he faille of his conclusion. 
 
 Than wold I say, now goode lefe, take kepa. 
 How mekely loketh Wilkin oure shepe ! 
 Come ner my spouse, and let me ba^ thy cheke. 
 Ye shulden be al patient and meke, 
 And han a swete spiced conscience, 
 Sith ye so preche of Jobes patience. 
 Suffreth alway, sin ye so wel can preche. 
 And but ye do, certain we shal you teche 
 That it is faire to han a wif in pees. 
 On of us two moste bowen doutelees : 
 And, sith a man is more resonable 
 Than woman is, ye mosten ben suffrable. 
 What aileth you to grutchen thus and grone ? 
 Is it for ye wold have my queint alone 1 
 Why take it all : lo, have it every del. 
 Peter, I shrew you but ye love it wel. 
 For if I wolde sell my helle cJiose, 
 I coude walke as freshe as is a rose, 
 But I wol kepe it for your owen toth. 
 Ye be to blame, by God, I say you soth. 
 
 Swiche manei wordes hadden we on hond. 
 Now wol I speken oi my fourthe husbond. 
 
 My fourthe husbonde was a revellour, 
 This is to sayn, he had a paramour, 
 And I was yonge and ful of ragerie,^ 
 Stibborne and strong, and joly as a pie. 
 Tho coude I dancen to an harpe smale, 
 And sing ywis as any nightingale. 
 Whan I had dronke a draught of swete wine. 
 Metellius,^ the foule cherle, the swine, 
 That with a staf beraft his wif hire lif 
 For she drank wine, though T had ben his wi^ 
 Ne shuld he not have daunted me fro drinke: 
 And after wine of Venus most I thinke. 
 For al so siker"* as cold engendreth hayl, 
 A likerous mouth most han a likerous tayl. 
 
 1 Kiss. 2 Wantonness. 
 
 3 See Valer. Maximus, vi. 3. "* Sure, certain. 
 
(049-6088. THE WIP OF BATHES PROLOGUE, 169 
 
 In woman vinolent^ is no defence, 
 This knowen leclionrs by experience. 
 
 But, lord Crist, wlian that it remembreth me 
 Upon my youth, and on my jolitee, 
 It tikleth me about myn herte-rote. 
 Unto this day it doth myn herte bote," 
 That I have had my world as in my time. 
 But age, alas ! that all wol envenime,^ 
 Hath me beraft my beautee and my pith :* 
 Let go, farewel, the devil go thervv^ith. 
 The flour is gon, there n'is no more to tell. 
 The bren, as I best may, now moste I sell. 
 But yet to be right mery wol I fond. 
 Now forth to tellen of my fourthe husbond. 
 
 I say, I had in herte gret despit, 
 That he of any other had delit ; 
 But he was quit by God and by Seint Joce :? 
 I made him of the same wood a croce, 
 Not of my body in no foule manere, 
 But certainly I made folk swicho chere, 
 That in his owen grese I made him frie 
 Bor anger, and for veray jalousie. 
 By God. in erth I was his purgatorie, 
 For which I hope his soule be in glorie. 
 Bor, God it wote, he sate ful oft and songe, 
 Whan that his sho ful bitterly him wronge. 
 Ther was no wight, save God and he, that v/Is'i® 
 In many a wise how sore that I him twiste. 
 He died whan I come fro Jerusalem, 
 And lith ygrave under the rode-beem :° 
 All is his tombe not so curious 
 As was the sepulcre of him Darius, 
 Which that Appelles wrought so sotelly. 
 It is but wast to bury hem preciously. 
 Let him farewel, God give his soule rest, 
 He is now in his grave and in his chest. 
 
 Now of my fifthe husbonde wol I telle : 
 God let his soule never come in helle. 
 And yet was he to me the moste shrew. 
 That tele I on my ribbes all by rew, 
 
 ' Full of wine. 2 Benefit, delight 
 
 8 Embitter. 4 strength. 
 
 * Jodocus, a saint of Ponthiess. * Cross 
 
170 THE CANTEEBURY TALES. G0S9-6130. 
 
 And ever slial, unto min ending day. 
 But in our bed he was so fresli and gay, 
 And therwithal lie coude so wel me giose, 
 Whan that he wolde han my belle chose, 
 That, though he had me bet on every bon. 
 He coude win agen my love anon. 
 I trow, I love him the bet, for he 
 Was of his love so dangerous to me. 
 We wimmen han, if that I shal not lie, 
 In this matere a queinte fantasie. 
 Waite,^ what thing we may nat lightly have, 
 Therafter wol we cry all day and crave. 
 Forbede us thing, and that desiren we ; 
 Prese on us fast, and thanne wol we flee. 
 With danger uttren we all our chaffare ; 
 Gret prees at market maketh dere ware, 
 And to gret chepe is holden at litel prise ; 
 This knoweth every woman that is wise. 
 
 My fifthe husbonde, God his soule blessc, 
 Which that I toke for love and no richesso. 
 He somtime was a clerk of Oxenforde, 
 And had left scole, and went at home at borde 
 With my gossib, dwelling in oure toun: 
 God have hire soule, hire name was Alisoun. 
 She knew my herte and all my privetee, 
 Bet than our parish preest, so mote I the." 
 To hire bewried^ I my conseil all ; 
 For had my husbond pissed on a wall. 
 Or don a thing that shuld have cost his lif, 
 To hire, and to another worthy wif, 
 And to my nece, which that I loved wel, 
 I wold have told his conseil every del. 
 And so I did ful often, God it wote, 
 That made his face ful often red and hote 
 For veray shame, and blamed himself, for ho 
 Had told to me so gret a privetee. 
 
 And so befell that ones in a Lent, 
 (So often times I to my gossib went, 
 For ever yet I loved to be gay, 
 And for to walke in March, April, and May 
 From hous to hous, to heren sondry tales) 
 That Jankin clerk, and my gossib dame Ales, 
 
 * Watch after. 2 go may I thrive. 3 Disclosed. 
 
6131-6172. THE WIF OP BATHES PROLOGUE. 171 
 
 And I myself, into tlie felcles went. 
 
 Myn husbond was at London all that Lent ; 
 
 I had the better leiser for to pleie, 
 
 And for to see, and eke for to be seie 
 
 Of lusty folk ; what wist I wher my grace 
 
 Was shapen for to be, or in what place 1 
 
 Therfore made I my visitations 
 
 To vigilies, and to processions, 
 
 To prechings eke, and to thise pilgrimages, 
 
 To playes of miracles, and mariages. 
 
 And wered npon my gay skarlet gites.^ 
 
 Thise wormes, ne thise mothes, ne thise mites 
 
 Upon my paraille frett hem never a del, 
 
 And wost thou why? for they w^ere used wel. 
 
 Now wol I tellen forth what happed me 
 I say, that in the feldes walked we, 
 Till trewely we had swiche daliance 
 This clerk and I, that of my purveance 
 I spake to him, and said him how that he, 
 If I were widewe, shulde wedden.me. 
 For certainly, I say for no bobance,- 
 Yet was I never without purveance 
 Of mariage, ne of other thinges eke ; 
 I hold a mouses wit not worth a leke, 
 That hath but on hole for to sterten to, 
 And if that faille, than is all ydo. 
 
 I bare him on hond^ he had enchanted me j 
 (My dame taughte me that subtiltee) 
 And eke I sayd, I mette^ of him all night, 
 He wold han slain me, as I lay upright, 
 And all my bed was full of veray blood ; 
 But yet I hope that ye shuln do me good: 
 Tor blood betokeneth gold, as me was taught. 
 And al was false, I dremed of him right naught, 
 But as I folwed ay my dames lore,^ 
 As wel of that as of other thinges more. 
 
 But now, sire, let me see, what shall I sain? 
 A ha, by God I have my tale again. 
 Whan that my fourthe husbonde was on bere 
 I wept algate*^ and made a sory chere. 
 As wives moten, for it is the usage ; 
 And with my coverchefe covered my visage ; 
 
 1 Gowns. 2 Boasting. 3 i made him believe. 
 
 4 Dreamed. ^ Counsel, opinion. 6 Always. 
 
172 THE CANTERBUEY TALES. G173-G214. 
 
 But, for that I was purveyed oi a make,* 
 
 I wept but smal, and that I undertake. 
 
 To chirche was myn husbond born a-morwe 
 
 "With neigheboures that for him maden sorwe. 
 
 And Jankin oure clerk was on of tho : 
 
 As helpe me God, whan that I saw him go 
 
 After the here, me thought he had a paire 
 
 Of legges and of feet, so elene and faire, 
 
 That all my herte I yave unto his hold. 
 
 He was, I trow, a twenty winter old, 
 
 And I w^as fourty, if I shal say soth, 
 
 But yet I had alway a coltes toth. 
 
 Gat-tothed^ I was, and that became me wele, 
 
 I had the print of Seinte Venus sele. 
 
 As helpe me God, I was a lusty on. 
 
 And faire, and riche, and yonge, and wel beg on: 
 
 And trewely, as min husbondes tolden me, 
 
 I had the beste queint that mighte be. 
 
 For certes I am all venerian 
 
 In feling, and my herte is marcian : 
 
 Venus me yave my lust and likerousnesse, 
 
 And Mars yave me my sturdy hardinesse. 
 
 Min ascendent was Taure, and Mars therinne: 
 
 Alas, alas, that ever love was sinne ! 
 
 I folwed ay min inclination 
 
 By vertue of my constellation : 
 
 That made me that I coude nat withdraw 
 
 My chambre of Venus from a good felaw. 
 
 Yet have I Martes merke upon my face, 
 
 And also in another privee place. 
 
 For God so wisly be my salvation, 
 
 I loved never by no discretion, 
 
 But ever folwed min appetit, 
 
 All were he shorte, longe, blake, or white, 
 
 I toke no kepe, so that he liked me. 
 
 How poure he was, ne eke of what degree. 
 
 What shuld I saye 1 but at the monthes ende 
 This joly clerk Jankin, that was so hende,^ 
 Hath wedded me with gret solempnitee. 
 And to him yave I all the lend and fee, 
 That ever was me yeven therbefore: 
 But afterward repented me full sore. 
 
 > Provided with a mate. " Cf. vs. 470. 8 Courteous. 
 
6S15-6253. THE WIF OF BATHES PROLOGUE. 1^3 
 
 He n'olde^ suffre nothing of my list. 
 By God lie smote me ones with his fist, 
 For that I rent out of his boke a lefe, 
 That of the stroke myn ere wex al defe, 
 Stibborne I was, as is a leonesse, 
 And of my tonge a veray jangleresse, 
 And walke I wold, as I had don beforn, 
 Fro hous to hons, although he had it sworn: 
 For which he oftentimes wolde preche, 
 And me of olde Eomaine gestes teche. 
 
 How he Sulpitius Gallus left his wif. 
 And hire forsoke for terme of all his lifj. 
 Not but for open-heded he hire say^ 
 Loking out at his dore upon a day. 
 
 Another Eomaine^ told he me by name, 
 That, for his wif was at a sommer game 
 Without his weting, he forsoke hire eke. 
 
 And than wold he upon his Bible seke 
 That ilke proverbe of Ecclesiaste, 
 Wher he commandeth, and forbedeth faste, 
 Man shal not sufier his wif go roule^ aboute. 
 
 Than wold he say right thus withouten douto: 
 Who so that bildeth his hous all of salwes;^ 
 And pricketh his blind hors over the falwes/ 
 And suffereth his wif to go seken halwes/ 
 Is worthy to be honged on the galwes. 
 
 But all for nought, I sette not an hawe^ 
 Of his proverbes, ne of his old sawe ; 
 Ne I wold not of him corrected be. 
 1 1 hate hem that my vices tellen me, 
 ^And so do mo of us (God wote) than I. 
 This made him wood^ with me all utterly ; 
 I n' olde not forbere him in no cas. 
 
 Now wol I say you soth by Seint Thomas, 
 Why that I rent out of his book a lefe, 
 For which he smote me, so that I was defe. 
 
 He had a book, that gladly night and day 
 For his disport he wolde it rede alway, ■ 
 
 1 Would not. 2 See Valer. Max. vi. 3. 
 
 3 Sempronius Sophus, from the same authority. 4 Ramble. 
 
 5 Willows. See Kichard^on, v. "sallow." 
 
 6 Fallows. 7 To ruu after. 
 8 A hawthorn berry. 9 Mad, 
 
174 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 6253-6290. 
 
 He clepecl it Valerie,^ and Tlieophrast,^ 
 
 And with tliat book he lough^ alway ful fast. 
 
 And eke ther was a clerk somtime at Eome, 
 
 A cardinal, that highte Seint Jerome, 
 
 That made a book again Jovinian, 
 
 Which book was ther, and eke TertuUian, 
 
 Crisippus, Trotula,"* and Helowis,^ 
 
 That was abbesse not fer fro Paris ; 
 
 And eke the jjaraboles of Salomon, 
 
 Ovides art, and bom^des*' many on ; 
 
 And alle thise were bonden in o volume. 
 
 And every night and day was his custume 
 
 (Whan he had leiser and vacation 
 
 From other worldly occupation) 
 
 To reden in this book of wikked wives. 
 
 He knew of hem mo legendes and mo liveSj 
 
 Than ben of go ode wives in the Bible. 
 For trusteth wel, it is an impossible, 
 
 That any clerk wol sj)eken good of wives, 
 
 (But if it be of holy seintes lives) 
 
 Ne of non other woman never the mo. 
 
 Who jDeinted the leon, telleth me, who ? 
 / By God, if wimmen hadden written stories, 
 / As clerkes han, within hir oratories, 
 
 1 They wold have writ of men more wikkednesss. 
 Than all the merke of Adam^ may redresse. 
 The children of Mercury and of Venus 
 
 Ben in hir werking ful contrarious. 
 Mercury loveth wisdom and science, 
 And Venus loveth riot and dispence. 
 And for hu- divers disposition, 
 Eche falleth in others exaltation.^ 
 As thus, God wote, Mercury is desolat 
 In Pisces, wher Venus is exaltat, 
 And Venus falleth wher Mercury is reised. 
 Therfore no woman of no clerk is preised. 
 The clerk whan he is old, and may nought do 
 Of Venus werkes not worth his old sho, 
 'i Valerius denon diicendd uxore, sometimes printed with the works of 
 St. Jerome. 
 
 2 Theophrastus de nuptiis, quoted by Hieronymus co7itra Jovmianum. 
 ^ Laughed. ^ A medical writer. ° The Epistles of Heloise. 
 ^ Jests. 7 All the images of Adam, i. e., all mankind. 
 
 8 The exaltation of a planet anciently meant that it was in that sign 
 of the Zodiac, where it exerted its greatest influence. 
 
6291-6330. THE WIF OF BATHEf, PEOLOGUE. 175 
 
 Than siteth he doun, and writetli in his dotage, 
 That winimen cannot kepe hir mariage. 
 But now to purpos, why I tolde thee, 
 That I was beten for a book parde. 
 
 Upon a night Jan kin, that was our sire, 
 Eed on his book, as he sate by the fire, 
 Of Eva first, that for hire wikkednesse 
 Was all mankinde brought to wretchednesse, 
 For which that Jesu Crist himself was slain, 
 That bought us with his herte-blood again. 
 
 Lo here espresse of wimmen may ye find, 
 That woman was the losse of all mankind. 
 
 Tho redde he me how Sampson lost his heres 
 Sleping, his lemman kitte^ hem with hire shere^ 
 Thurgh whiche treson lost he both his eyen. 
 
 Tho redde he me, it that T shal not lien, 
 Of Hercules, and of his Deianire, 
 That caused him to set himself a-fire. 
 
 Nothing forgat he the care and the wo, 
 That Socrates had with his wives two ; 
 How Xantippa cast pisse upon his hed. 
 This sely man sat still, as he were ded, 
 He wiped his hed, no more dorst he sain. 
 But, er the thonder stint- ther cometh rain. 
 
 Of Pasiphae, that was the queue of Crete, 
 For shrewednesse him thought the tale swete. 
 Fie, speke no more (it is a grisely thing) 
 Of hire horrible lust and hire liking. 
 
 Of Clitemnestra for hire lecherie 
 That falsely made hire husbond for to die, 
 He redde it with ful good devotion. 
 
 He told me eke, for what occasion 
 Amphiorax^ at Thebes lost his lif : 
 My husbond had a legend of his wif 
 Eriphile, that for an ouche of gold 
 Hath prively unto the Grekes told, 
 Wher that hire husbond hidde him in a place, 
 For which he had at Thebes sory grace. 
 
 Of Lima told he me, and of Lucie :* 
 They bothe made hir husbondes for to die, 
 
 » Cut. 2 Cease. 3 Amphiaraus. 
 
 4 In the Episfola Valerii, &c. MS. Reg. 12. D. iii. the story is told thus ■, 
 Luna virum. suum interfecit quern nimis odivit : Lticilia suum quem 
 
176 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 6331-036^. 
 
 That on for love, that other was for hate- 
 Lima hire husbond on an even late 
 Enpoysoneth hath, for that she was his fo : 
 Lucia likerous loved hire husbond so, 
 That for he shuld alway upon hire thinke. 
 She yave him swiche a maner love-drinke. 
 That he was ded er it were by the morwe : 
 And thus algates^ husbondes hadden sorwe. 
 
 Than told he me, how on Latumeus- 
 Complained to his felaw Arius, 
 That in his gardin growed swiche a tree. 
 On which he said how that his wives three 
 Honged hemseli for hertes despitous. 
 O leve brother, quod this Arius, 
 Yeve me a plant of thilke blessed tree, 
 And in my gardin planted shal it be. 
 
 Of later date of wives hath he redde, 
 That som han slam hir husbonds in hir bedde, 
 And let hir lechour dight hem all the night, 
 "While that the corps lay in the flore upright: 
 And som han driven nailes in hir brain, 
 While that they slepe, and thus they han hem clain: 
 Som han hem yeven poyson in hir drink : 
 He spake more harm than herte may bethinke. 
 
 And therwithall he knew of mo proverbes, 
 Than in this world their growen gras or herbes. 
 
 Bet is^ (quod he) thin habitation 
 Be with a leon, or a foule dragon, 
 Than with a woman using for to chide. 
 
 Bet is (quod he) high in the roof abide, 
 Than with an angry woman doun in the liou3, 
 They ben so wikked and c; ntrarious: 
 They haten, that hir husbo.ids loven ay. 
 
 He sayd, a woman cast hire shame away,* 
 Whan she cast of hire smock ; and forthermo, 
 A faire woman, but she be chast also, 
 Is like a gold ring in a sowes nose. 
 
 Who coude wene, or who coude suppose 
 
 nimis amavit. Ilia sponte miscuit aconita : liasc decepta furorem pro- 
 pinavit pro amoris poculo. Lhna and Luna in many MSS. are only 
 distinguishable by a small stroke over the i, which may be easily over- 
 looked where it is, and supposed where it is not. — Tynchitt. 
 
 i Always. 2 These names are probably corrupt. 
 
 3 Better it is. * A sentiment of Herodotus, lib. 1, suhinit. 
 
G3GO-G410. THE WIF OF BATHES PROLOGUE. 177 
 
 The wo tliat in min lierte was, and the pine ? 
 And whan I saw he n'olde never fine^ 
 To reden on this cnrsed book all night, 
 Al sodenly three leves have I iDlight^ 
 Out of his book, right as he redde, and eke 
 I with my fist so toke him on the cheke, 
 That in oure fire he fell bakward adoun. 
 And he np sterte, as doth a wood leoun, 
 And with his fist he smote me on the hed, 
 That in the flore I lay as I were ded. 
 And whan he saw how stille that I lay, 
 He was agast, and wold have fled away, 
 Til at the last out of mj swough^ I brayde.^ 
 O, hast thou slain me, false theef ? I sayde, 
 And for my lond thus hast thou mordred me ? 
 Er I be ded, yet wol I kissen thee. 
 And nere he came, and kneled faire ad,oun, 
 And sayde ; dere suster Alisoun, 
 As helpe me God I shal thee never smite: 
 That I have don it is thyself to wite, 
 Foryeve it me, and that I thee beseke. 
 And yet eftsones I hitte him on the cheke, 
 And sayde ; theef, thus much am I awreke.^ 
 Now wol I die, I may no longer speke. 
 
 But at the last, with mochel care and wo 
 "We fell accorded by ourselven two : 
 He yaf me all the bridel in min houd 
 To han the governance of hous and lond, 
 And of his tonge, and of his hond also. 
 And made him brenne his book anon right tho. 
 
 And whan that I had getten unto me 
 By maistrie all the soverainetee. 
 And that he sayd, min owen trewe wif, 
 Do as thee list, the terme of all thy lif, 
 Kepe thin honour, and kepe eke min estat ; 
 After that day we never had debat. 
 God helpe me so, I was to him as kinde. 
 As any wif fro Denmark unto Inde, 
 And al so trewe, and so was he to me : 
 I pray to God that sit in majestee 
 So blisse his soule, for his mercy dere. 
 Kow wol I say my tale if ye wol here. 
 
 ^ Cease. 2 plucked. 3 Swoon. 
 
 * Awaked. 5 Kevenged. 
 
178 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 64H-6444.. 
 
 The frere^ loiigli wlian he had herd all this i 
 Now dame, quod he, so have I joye and blis, 
 This is a long preamble of a tale. 
 
 And whan the Sompnour herd the frere gale..^ 
 Lo (quod this Sompnour) Goddes armes two, 
 A frere wol entermete^ him evermo : 
 Lo, goode men, a flie and eke a frere 
 Wol fall in every dish and eke matere. 
 What spekest thou of preambulatioun 1 
 What? amble or trot; or pees, or go sit doun: 
 Thou lettest our disport in this matere. 
 
 Ye, wolt thou so, Sire Sompnour ? quod the frere | 
 Now by my faith I shal, er that I go, 
 Tell of a Sompnour swiche a tale or two, 
 That all the folk shal laughen in this place. 
 
 Now elles, frere, I wol beshrewe thy face, 
 (Quod this Sompnour) and I beshrewe me, 
 But if I telle tales two or three 
 Of freres, or T come to Sidenborne, 
 That I shal make thin herte for to morne : 
 For wel I wot thy patience is gon. 
 
 Our hoste cried ; pees, and that anon ; 
 And sayde ; let the woman tell hire tale. 
 Ye fare as folk that dronken ben of ale. 
 Do, dame, tell forth your tale, and that is best, 
 
 Al redy, sire, quod she, right as you lest, 
 If I have licence of this worthy frere. 
 
 Yes, dame, quod he, tell forth, and I wol here. 
 
 Ih olde dayes of the king Artour,^ 
 
 Of which that Bretons speken gret honour. 
 
 All was this lend fulfilled of faerie; 
 
 The Elf-quene, with hire joly compagnie. 
 
 Danced ful oft in many a grene mede 
 
 This was the old opinion as I rede ;1 
 ^ ftotlier. 2 Sing, i, g,, laugh, chuckle. — See TyrwMti. 
 
 * ifnterpose. 
 
 4 I hope that Chaucer, by placing his Elf-quene in the dayes of King 
 Artour, did not mean to intimate that the two monarchies were equally 
 
6445-61-74. THE WIF OF BATHES TALE. 179 
 
 I speke of many hundred yeres ago ; 
 
 But now can no man see non elves mo, 
 
 Tor now the grete charitee and prayerea 
 
 Of Hmitoures^ and other holy freres, 
 
 That serchen every land and every streme, 
 
 As thikke as motes^ in the sonne-beme, 
 
 Blissing-2 halles, chambres, kichenes, and boures/ 
 
 Citees and burghes, castles highe and toures, 
 
 Thropes-' and bernes,° shepenes and dairies, 
 
 This maketh that ther ben no faeries: 
 
 For ther as wont to walken was an elf, 
 
 Ther walketh now the limitour himself, 
 
 In undermeles'' and in morweninges/ 
 
 And sayth his Matines and his holy thinges, 
 
 As he goth in his limitatioun.^ 
 
 Women may now go safely up and doun. 
 
 In every bush, and under every tree, 
 
 Ther is non other incubus^° but he,. 
 
 And he ne will don hem no dishonour. 
 
 And so befell it, that this king Artour 
 Had in his hous a lusty bacheler, 
 That on a day came riding fro river: 
 And happed, that, alone as she was borne, 
 He saw a maiden walking him beforne, 
 Of which maid he anon, maugre hire lied, 
 By veray force beraft hire maidenhed : 
 For which oi^pression was swiche clamour, 
 And swiche pursuite unto the king Artour, 
 That damned was this knight for to be ded 
 By cours of lawe, and shuld have lost his hed, 
 
 fabulous and visionary. Master Wace has judged more candidly of tbs 
 exploits of our British hero. 
 
 Ne tut mensonge, ne tut veir; 
 Ne tut folia, ne tut saveir. 
 Tant unt li conteor conte, 
 E 11 fableor tant fable, 
 Pur les contes enbelecer, 
 Ke tut unt fait fable sembler. 
 
 Le Brut. MS. Cotton. Vitell, A. I.—Tyrwintt. 
 ' Cf. vs. 209, 253. 
 
 2 Atoms, spots, what Lucretius calls " micEe," loose particles floating 
 in the air. 3 Blessing. "* Houses. 
 
 ^ For " thorpes," i. e., villages. ^ Barns. 
 
 7 Either " dinner-time," or the time after dinner. ^ Mornings. 
 
 9 /. e., on his duty as a begging friar. lo Night-mare. 
 
 16 
 
180 THE CANTERBURY TALES. G47o-G516. 
 
 (Paraventure swiche was the statute tho,) 
 But that the queue and other ladies mo 
 So longe praieden the king of grace, 
 Til he his lif him granted in the place, 
 And yaf him to the queue, all at hire will 
 To cliese whether she wold him save or spill. 
 
 The queue thanketh the king with all hire miglitj 
 And after, this thus spake she to the knight. 
 Whan that she saw hire time upon a day. 
 
 Thou standest yet (quod she) in swiche array. 
 That of thy lif yet hast thou no seuretee ; 
 I grant thee lif, if thou canst tellen me, 
 "What thing is it that women most desiren : 
 Beware, and kepe thy nekke-bone from yren.* 
 And if thou canst not tell it me anon, 
 Yet wol I yeve thee leve for to gon 
 A twelvemonth and a day, to seke and lere- 
 An answer suffisant in this matere. 
 And seuretee wol I have, or that thou pace,^ 
 Thy body for to yelden in this place. 
 
 Wo was the knight, and sorwefuUy he siketh; 
 But what ? he may not don all as him liketh. 
 And at the last he chese him for to wende, 
 And come agen right at the yeres ende 
 With swiche ansv/er, as God wold him purvay : 
 And taketh his leve, and wendeth forth his way. 
 
 He seketh every hous and every j)lace, 
 Wher as he hopeth for to finden grace, 
 To lernen what thing women loven moste : 
 But he ne coude ariven in no coste, 
 Wher as he mighte find in this matere 
 Two creatures according in fere.^ 
 Som saiden, women loven best richesse, 
 Som saiden honour, som saiden jolinesse, 
 Som riche array, som saiden lust a-bedde. 
 And oft time to be widewe and to be wedde. 
 
 Some saiden, that we ben in herte most esed 
 Whan that we ben yflatered and ypreised. 
 He goih ful nigh the sothe, I wol not lie ; 
 A man shal winne us best with flaterie ; 
 And with attendance, and with besinesse 
 Ben we ylimed^ bothe more and lesse. 
 Iron, i.e., the sword, 2 Learn. 
 
 3 Before thou go. ^Together. ^ Xijmcd, caught. 
 
6517-6558. THE WIF OF BATHES TALE. 181 
 
 And som men saiden, that we loven best 
 For to be iree, and do right as ns lest, 
 And that no man repreve ns of our vice, 
 But say that we ben wise, and nothing nice. 
 For trewely tlier n'is non of us all, 
 If any wight wol claw us on the gall. 
 That we n'ill kike, for that he saith us soth: 
 Assay, and he shal find it, that so doth. 
 For be we never so vicious withinne. 
 We wol be holden wise and clene oi sinne. 
 
 And som saiden, that gret delit han we 
 For to be holden stable and eke secre, 
 And in o purpos stedfastly to dwell, 
 And not bewreyen^ thing that men us tell. 
 But that tale is not worth a rake-stele.'- 
 Parde we women connen nothing hele, 
 Witnesse on Mida ; wol ye here the tale ? 
 
 Ovide, amonges other thinges smale, 
 Said, Mida had under his longe heres 
 Growiug upon his hed two asses eres ; 
 The whiche vice he hid, as he beste might, 
 Ful subtilly from every mannes sight, 
 That, save his wif, ther wist of it no mo ; 
 He loved hire most, and trusted hire also ; 
 He praied hire, that to no creature 
 She n'olde tellen of his disfigure. 
 
 She swore him, nay, for all the world to v/lan? 
 She n'olde do that vilanie, ne sinne, 
 To make hire husbond han so foule a name: 
 She n'olde not tell it for hire owen shame. 
 But natheles hire thoughte that she dide, 
 That she so longe shuld a conseil hide ; 
 Hire thougl:t it swaP so sore aboute hire herte, 
 That nedely som word hire must asterte ; 
 And sith she dorst nat telle it to no man, 
 Doun to a mareis"^ faste by she ran. 
 Til she came ther, hire herte was a-fire : 
 And as a bitore^ bumbleth^ in the mire, 
 She laid hire mouth unto the water doun.- 
 Bewrey me not, thou water, with thy soun, 
 Quod she, to thee I tell it, and no mo, 
 Min husbond hath long asses eres two. 
 'Betray. 2 Kake-handle. sgwell. •* MarsTi. 
 
 5 Bittern. g Usually, to make a humming noise. 
 
182 THE CANTERBUEY TALES. C5o9-660O. 
 
 Now is mill lierte all hole, now is it out, 
 I might no lenger kepe it out of dout. 
 Here may ye see, though we a time abide, 
 Yet out it moste, we can no conseil hide. 
 The remenant of the tale, if ye wol here, 
 Hedeth^ Ovide, and ther ye may it lere. 
 
 This knight, of which my tale is specially, 
 Whan that he saw he might not come therby, 
 (This is to sayn, what women loven most) 
 Within his brest ful sorweful Avas his gost. 
 But home he goth, he mighte not sojourne, 
 The day was come, that homward must he turne. 
 And in his way, it happed him to ride 
 In all his care, under a forest side, 
 Wheras he saw upon a dance go 
 Of ladies foure and twenty, and yet mo.' 
 Toward this ilke dance he drow- ful ycrne,^ 
 In hope that he som wisdom shulde lerne ; 
 But certainly, er he came fully there, 
 Yvanished was this dance, he n'iste not wher; 
 No creature saw he that bare lifj 
 Save on the grene he saw sitting a wif, 
 A fouler wight ther may no man devise. 
 Againe this knight this olde wif gan arise. 
 And said; sire knight, here forth ne lith^ no way,, 
 Tell me what that ye seken by your fay. 
 Paraventure it may the better be : 
 Thise olde folk con mochel thing,^ quod she. 
 
 My leve mother, quod this knight, certain, 
 I n'am but ded, but if that I can sain, 
 What thing it is that women most desire: 
 Coude ye me wisse, I wold quite wel your hire. 
 Plight me thy trouthe here in myn hond, quod she, 
 The nexte thing that I requere of thee 
 Thou shalt it do, if it be in thy might, 
 And I wol tell it you or it be night. 
 
 Have here my trouthe, quod the knight, I graunt^ 
 
 Thanne, quod she, I dare me wel avaunte, 
 Thy lif is sauf, for I wol stond therby, 
 Upon my lif the queue wol say as I : 
 Let see, which is the proudest of hem alle, 
 That wereth on a kerchef or a calle, 
 1 Telleth. 2 Drew, came. 3 Eagerly. 
 
 4 There lies. 5 Know a good deal. 
 
6601-0643. THE WIP OF BATHES TALE. 183 
 
 That dare sayn nay of that I shal yon teche. 
 Let us go forth withouten lenger speche. 
 
 Tho rowned she a pisteP iu his ere. 
 And bad him to be glad, and have no fere. 
 
 Whan they ben comen to the court, this kniglit 
 Said, he had hold his day, as he had hight. 
 And redy was his answere, as he saide. 
 Ful many a noble wif, and many a maide, 
 And many a widewe, for that they ben wise, 
 (The queue hiresell sitting as a justice) 
 Assembled ben, his answer for to here, 
 And afterward this knight was bode" appere. 
 
 To every wight commanded was silence, 
 And that the knight shuld tell in audience, 
 What thing that worldly women loven best. 
 This knight ne stood not still, as doth a best,. ' 
 But to this question anon answerd 
 With manly vols, that all the court it herd. 
 
 My liege lady, generally, quod he, 
 Women desiren to han soverainetee, 
 As well over hir husbond as hir love, 
 And for to ben in maistrie him above. 
 This is your most desire, though ye me kille, 
 Doth as you list, I am here at your wille. 
 
 In all the court ne was ther wif ne maide, 
 Ne widewe, that contraried that he saide, 
 But said, he was worthy to han his lif. 
 
 And with that word up stert this olde wif. 
 Which that the knight saw sitting on the gren®. 
 Mercy, quod she, my soveraine lady quene, 
 Er that your court depart, as doth me right. 
 I taughte this answer unto this knight. 
 For which he plighte me his trouthe there, 
 The firste thing I wold of him requere. 
 He wold it do, if it lay in his might. 
 Before this court than pray I thee, sire knight, 
 Quod she, that thou me take unto thy wif. 
 For wel thou wost,^ that I have kept thy lif: 
 If I say false, say nay upon thy fay. 
 
 This knight answered, alas and wala wa! 
 I wot right wel that swiche was my behest. 
 For Goddes love as chese^ a new request : 
 
 1 A short lesson. 2 Bidden. 
 
 3 Kuowest. 4 Pray choose. 
 
184 THE CANTERBURY TALES. G61o-G684ii 
 
 Take all my good, and let my body go. 
 
 Nay than, qnod slie^ I slirewe ns bothe two. 
 For thougli that I be olde, foule, and pore, 
 I n'olde for all the metal ne the ore, 
 That tinder erthe is grave/ or lith" above, 
 But if thy wif I were and eke thy love. 
 
 My love ? quod he, nay, my dampnatioru 
 >las ! that any oi my nation 
 Shuld ever so loule disparaged be. 
 But all lor nought ; the end is this, that he 
 Constrained was, he nedes must hire wed, 
 And taketh this olde wit, and goth to bed. 
 
 Now wolden som men sayn paraventure. 
 That for my negligence I do no cure 
 To tellen you the joye and all the array. 
 That at the teste was that ilke day. 
 
 To which thing shortly answeren I shal : 
 I say ther was no joye ne ieste at al, 
 Ther n'as but hevinesse and mochel sorv/e : 
 For prively he wedded hire on the morwe. 
 And all day after hid him as an oule. 
 So wo was him, his wif loked so ioule. 
 
 Gret was the wO the knight had in his thonglit 
 Whan he was with his wif a-bed ybrought, 
 He walweth, and he turneth to and fro. 
 
 This olde wif lay smiling evermo, 
 And said : O dere husbond, henedicite, 
 Fareth every knight thus with his wii as ye 1 
 Is this the lawe of king Artoures hous 1 
 Is every knight of his thus dangerous ^'^ 
 I am your owen love, and eke your wif, 
 I am she, which that saved hath your lif, 
 And certes yet did I you never unright. 
 "Why fare ye thus with me this firste night ? 
 Ye faren like a man had lost his wit. 
 What is my gilt] lor Goddes love tell it, 
 And it shal ben amended, if I may. 
 
 Amended ] quod this knight, alas ! nay, nay. 
 It wol not ben amended never mo ; 
 Thou art so lothly, and so olde also. 
 And therto comen of so low a kind, 
 That litel wonder is though I walwe and wind ;* 
 
 1 Buried. 2 Lietb. 
 
 3 Difficult, sparing of himself. * xu^a about. 
 
6685-6726. THE WIP OF BATHES TALE. 185 
 
 So wolde God, min herte wolde brest. 
 
 Is this, quod she, the cause of your unrest ? 
 
 Ye certainly, quod he, no wonder is. 
 
 Now sire, quod she, I coude amend all this. 
 If that me list, er it were dayes three, 
 So wel ye mighten here you unto me. 
 
 But for ye speken of swiche gentillessOj 
 As is descended out of old richesse, 
 That therfore shuUen ye be gentilmen : 
 Swiche arrogance n'is not worth an hen. 
 
 Loke who that is most vertuous alway, 
 Prive and apert,^ and most entendeth ay 
 To do the gentil dedes that he can. 
 And take him for the gretest gentilman. 
 Crist wol we claime of him our gentillesse. 
 Not of our elders for hir old richesse. 
 For though they yeve us all hir heritage, 
 For which we claime to ben of high parage * 
 Yet may they not bequethen, for no thing, 
 To non of us, hir vertuous living. 
 That made hem gentilmen called to be, 
 And bade us folwen hem in swiche degree. 
 
 Wel can the wise poet of Florence, 
 That highte Dant, speken of this sentence : 
 Lo, in swiche manor rime is Dantes tale.^ 
 
 Ful selde'* up riseth by his branches smale 
 Prowesse of man, for God of his goodnesse 
 Wol that we claime of him our gentillesse : 
 For of our elders may we nothing claime 
 JBut temporel thing, that man may hurt and maime. 
 
 Eke every wight wot this as wel as I, 
 If gentillesse were planted naturelly 
 Unto a certain linage doun the line, 
 Prive and apert, than wold they never fine^ 
 To don of gentillesse the faire office. 
 They mighten do no vilanie or vice. 
 
 Take fire and bere it into the derkest hous 
 Betwix this and the mount of Caucasus, 
 And let men shette the dores, and go thenne, 
 Yet wol the fire as faire lie and brenne 
 As twenty thousand men might it behol 
 His office naturel ay wol it hold, 
 ' In private and public. 2 Lineage. 
 
 8 See Furgat. vil. 121. 4 Seldom. ^ Cease. 
 
186 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 6737-676 
 
 Up peril of my lif, til that it die. 
 
 Here may ye see wei, how that genterie* 
 Is not amiexed to possession, 
 Sith folk ne don hir operation 
 Alway, as doth the fire, lo, in his kind. 
 For God it wot, men moun ful often find 
 A lordes sone do shame and vilanie. 
 And he that wol han pris of his genterie, 
 For he was horen of a gentil hous, 
 And had his elders noble and vertuous, 
 And n'ill himselven do no gentil dedes, 
 Ne folwe his gentil auncestrie, that ded is. 
 He n'is not gentil, be he duk or erl ; 
 For vilains sinful dedes m^ake a cherL 
 For gentillesse n'is but the renomee^ 
 Of thin auncestres, ior hir high bountee,^ 
 Which is a strange thing to thy persone : 
 Thy gentillesse cometh fro God alone. 
 Than"* cometh our veray gentillesse of grace, 
 It was no thing bequethed us with our place, 
 
 Thinketh how noble, as saith Valerius, 
 Was thilke Tullius Hostilius, 
 That out of poverte rose to high noblesse. 
 Redeth Senek, and redeth eke Boece, 
 Ther shull ye seen expresse, that it no dred is,® 
 That he is gentil that doth gentil dedis.*" 
 And therfore, leve husbond, I thus conclude, 
 Al be it that min auncestres weren rude. 
 Yet may the highe God, and so hope I, 
 Granten me grace to liven vertuously : 
 Than am I gentil, whan that I beginne 
 To liven vertuously, and weiven sinne. 
 
 And ther as ye of poverte me repreve. 
 The highe God, on whom that we beleve. 
 In wilful poverte chese to lede his lif : 
 And certes, every man, maiden, or wif 
 May understond, that Jesus heven king 
 Ne wold not chese a vicious living. 
 
 Glad poverte is an honest thing certain. 
 This wol Senek and other clerkes sain. 
 Who so that halt him paid of his poverte, 
 I hold him rich, al had he not a sherte. 
 
 1 Gentility. " Renown. s Goodnesa. 
 
 * Thence. 5 There is no doubt. 6 Deeds. 
 
6769-6802. THE \Y1P OP BATHES TALE. 187 
 
 He that coveiteth is a poiire wight, 
 For he wold han that is not in his might. 
 But he that nought hath, ne coveiteth to have, 
 Is riche, although ye hold him but a knave. 
 Veray poverte is sinne proprely.^ 
 
 Juvenal saith of poverte merily : 
 The poure man whan he goth by the way, 
 Beforn the theves he may sing and play.- 
 Poverte is hateful good ; and, as I gesse, 
 A ful gret bringer out of besinesse ; 
 A gret amender eke of sapience 
 To him, that taketh it in patience. 
 Poverte is this, although it seme elenge,^ 
 Possession that no wight wol challenge. 
 Poverte ful often, whan a man is low, 
 Maketh his God and eke himself to know : 
 Poverte a spectakel is, as thinketh me, 
 Thurgh which he may his veray frendes see. 
 And therfore, sire, sin that I you not greve. 
 Of my poverte no more me repreve. 
 
 Now, sire, of elde, that ye repreven me: 
 And certes, sire, though non auctoritee 
 Were in no book, ye gentiles of honour 
 Sain, that men shuld an olde wight honour, 
 And clepe him fader, for your gentillesse ; 
 And auctours shal I finden, as I gesse. 
 
 Now ther ye sain that I am foule and old. 
 Than drede ye not to ben a cokewold. 
 For filthe, and elde^ also, so mote I the, 
 Ben grete wardeins upon chastitee. 
 But natheles, sin I know your delit, 
 I shal fulfill your worldly appetit, 
 
 Chese now (qucd she) on of thise thinges twey. 
 To han me foule and old til that I dey, 
 
 1 In this commendation of Poverty, our author seems plainly to have 
 had in view the following passage of a fabulous conference between the 
 Emperour Adrian and Secundus the philosopher, reported by Vincent of 
 Beauvais, Spec. Histor. 1. x, c. 71. Quid est Paupertas ? Odibile bonuynj 
 sanitatis mater ; remotio curarum; sapienticB repertrix; negotium sine 
 darano; possessio absque calumniai sine sollicitudine felicitas. What 
 Vincent has there published appears to have been extracted from a 
 larger collection of Gnomce under the name of Secundus, which are still 
 extant in Greek and Latin. See Fabric, Bib. Gr. 1. vi. c. x. and MS. 
 Harl. 399. The author of Pierce Ploughman has quoted and paraphrased 
 the same passage, fol. lb.-r-Tyrw7iitt. 
 
 2 Cantabit vacuus coram latrone viator. 3 strange. * Age. 
 
188 THE CANTERBUKY TALES. 6503-G8i6. 
 
 And be to you a tiewe humble wif, 
 
 And never you displese in all my lif : 
 
 Or elles wol ye ban me yonge and laire, 
 
 And take your aventure of the repaire, 
 
 That shal be to your lious because of me, 
 
 Or in som other place it may wel be ? 
 
 Now chese yourselven whether that you liketli. 
 
 This knight aviseth him, and sore siketh, 
 But at the last he said in this manere ; 
 
 My lady and my love, and wif so dere, 
 I put me in your wise governance, 
 Cheseth yourself which may be most i)lesance 
 And most honour to you and me also, 
 I do no force the whether of the two : 
 For as you liketh, it sufficeth me. 
 
 Than have I got the maisterie, quod she, 
 Sin I may chese and governe as me lest. 
 Ye certes, wif, quod he, I hold it best. 
 
 Kisse me, quod she, we be no lenger wrothe. 
 For by my trouth I wol be to you bothe, 
 This is to sayn, ye bothe faire and good. 
 I pray to God that I mote sterven wood,^ 
 But I to you be al so good and trewe, 
 As ever was wif, sin that the world was news; 
 And but I be to-morwe as faire to seen, 
 As any lady, emperice, or queue, 
 That is betwix the Est and eke the West, 
 Doth with my lif and deth right as you lest. 
 Cast up the curtein, loke how that it is. 
 
 And whan the knight saw veraiiy all thia, 
 That she so faire was, and so yonge therto, 
 For joye he hent^ hire in his amies two: 
 His herte bathed in a bath of blisse, 
 A thousand time a-row he gan hire kisse; 
 And she obeyed him in every thing, 
 That mighte don him plesance or liking. 
 And thus they live unto hir lives ende 
 In parfit joye, and Jesu Crist us sende 
 Husbondes meke and yonge, and fressh a-bed. 
 And grace to overlive hem that we wed. 
 
 And eke I pray Jesus to short hir lives. 
 That wol not be governed by hir wives. 
 And old and angry nigards of dispence, 
 God send hem sone a veray pestilence. 
 
 1 Die mad. " Seized 
 
I8d 
 
 THE FEERES PEOLOGUE. 
 
 GS47-GS75. 
 
 This wortliy limitonr, this noble Frere, 
 He made ahvay a maner louring cliere^ 
 Upon the Sompnour, but for honestee" 
 No vilains word as yet to him spake he: 
 But at the last he said unto the wif ; 
 Dame, (quod he) God yeve you right good lif, 
 Ye have here touched, all so mote I the, 
 In scole matere a ful gret difficultee. 
 Ye han said mochel thing right wel, I say; 
 But, dame, here as we riden by the way, 
 Us nedeth not to speken but of game. 
 And let auctoritees^ in Goddes name 
 To preching, and to scole eke oi clergie. 
 
 But if it like unto this eompagnie, 
 I wol you of a Sompnour tell a game ; 
 Parde ye may wel knowen by the name, 
 That of a Sompnour may no good be said ; 
 I pray that non of you be evil apaid ; 
 A Sompnour is a renner up and doun 
 With mandements for fornicatioun, 
 And is ybete at every tonnes ende. 
 
 Tho sj)ake our hoste ; A, sire, ye shuld ben hends 
 And curteis, as a man of your estat. 
 In eompagnie we wiln have no debat : 
 Telleth your tale, and let the Sompnour be. 
 Nay, quod the Sompnour, let him say by me 
 What so him list ; whan it cometh to my lot, 
 By God I shal him quiten every grot. 
 I shal him tellen which a gret honour 
 It is to be a flatering limitour, 
 And eke of many another maner crime, 
 Which nedeth not rehersen at this time, 
 
 2 Shewed a kind of discontented feeling towards him. 
 
 2 Out of propriety. 3 Texts of Scripture, 
 
190 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 6879-6912. 
 
 And liis ofSce I slial him tell ywis. 
 Our hoste answered ; pees, no more of this. 
 And afterward he said unto the Frere, 
 Tell forth your tale, min owen maister dere. 
 
 f Ij^ ^xtm %nlt 
 
 Whilom ther was dwelling in my contree 
 
 An archedeken, a man of high degree, 
 
 That boldely did execution 
 
 In punishing of fornication, 
 
 Of witchecraft, and eke of bauderie, 
 
 Of defamation, and avouterie/ 
 
 Of chirche-reves,^ and ot testaments, 
 
 Of contracts, and of lack of sacraments. 
 
 Of usure, and of simonie also ; 
 
 But certes lechours did he gretest wo ; 
 
 They shulden singen, if that they were hent;" 
 
 And smale titheres weren foule yshent,* 
 
 If any persone wold upon hem plaine, 
 
 Ther might astert hem no pecunial peine. 
 
 For smale tithes, and smale offering, 
 
 He made the peple pitously to sing; 
 
 For er the bishop hent hem with his crook 
 
 They weren in the archedekens book; 
 
 Than had he thurgh his jurisdiction 
 
 Power to don on hem correction. 
 
 He had a Sompnour redy to his hond, 
 A slier boy was non in Englelond; 
 For subtilly he had his espiaille, 
 That taught him wel wher it might ought availleb 
 He coude spare of lechours on or two. 
 To techen him to foure and twenty mo» 
 For though this Sompnour wood be as an hare, 
 To tell his harlotrie I wol not spare. 
 For we ben out of hir correction. 
 They han of us no jurisdiction, 
 
 1 Adultery. 3 Churchwardens. 
 
 3 Caught. * Hurt, injured, oppressed. 
 
6913-6952. THE FKERES TALE. 191 
 
 Ne never sliul liave^ terme of all hir lives, 
 
 Peter, so ben the women of the stives, 
 Quod this Sompnoiir, yput out of our cure. 
 
 Pees, with mischance and with misaventurey 
 Our hoste said, and let him tell his tale. 
 Now telleth forth, and let the Somjonour gale.* 
 Ne spareth not, niin owen maister dere. 
 
 This false theef, this Sompnour, quod the frere, 
 Had alway baudes redy to his hond, 
 As any hauke to lure in Englelond, 
 That told him all the secree that they knewe, 
 For hir acquaintance was not come of newe ; 
 They weren his approvers prively. 
 He tooke himself a gret jorofit therby i 
 His maister knew not alway what he wau.^ 
 Withouten mandement,^ a lewed man 
 He coude sompne, up peine of Cristes curse, 
 And they were inly^ glad to fiUe his purse, 
 And maken him gret testes at the nale.^ 
 And right as Judas hadde purses smale 
 And was a theef, right swiche a theef was he, 
 His master hadde but half his duetee.° 
 He was (if I shal yeven him his laud)'' 
 A theef, and eke a Sompnour, and a baud. 
 
 He had eke wenches at his retenue. 
 That whether that sire Eobert or sire Hue, 
 Or Jakke, or Eauf, or who so that it were 
 That lay by hem, they told it in his ere. 
 Thus was the wenche and he of on assent. 
 And he wold fecche a feined mandement, 
 And sompne hem to the chapitre bothe two, 
 And pilP the man, and let the wenche go. 
 Than wold he say; frend, I shal for thy sake 
 Do strike thee out of oure lettres blake ; 
 Thee thar^ no more as in this cas travaille; 
 I am thy frend ther I may thee availle. 
 Certain he knew of briboures many mo. 
 Than possible is to tell in yeres two : 
 For in this world n'is dogge for the bowe,^'' 
 That can an hurt dere from an hole^^ yknowe, 
 
 * Sing, laugh. 2 Gained. ^ Mandate. 
 
 * Inwardly, thoroughly. 5 Alehouse. ^ Due, duty. 
 7 Praise. 8 Plunder. ^ Thou must. 
 
 10 J. e., the chace. " Whole, unhurt. 
 
 17 
 
192 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 6953-6G93. 
 
 Bet than this Sompnoiir knew a slie lechour, 
 Or an avoutrer,^ or a paramour; 
 And for that was the fruit of all his rent, 
 Therfore on it he set all his entent. 
 
 And so befell, that ones on a day 
 This Sompnour, waiting ever on his pray, 
 Eode forth to sompne a widewe, an olde ribibo,^ 
 Feining a cause, for he wold han a bribe. 
 And happed that he saw beforn him ride 
 A gay yeman under a forest side : 
 A bow he bare, and arwes bright and kene, 
 He had upon a courtepy of grene. 
 An hat upon his hed with frenges blake. 
 
 Sire, quod this Sompnour, haile and wel atake.^ 
 
 Welcome, quod he, and every good felaw ; 
 "VVhider ridest thou under this grene shaw ? 
 (Saide this yeman) wolt thou fer* to-day 1 
 
 This Sompnour him answerd, and saide, nay. 
 Here faste by (quod he) is min entent 
 To riden, for to reisen up a rent. 
 That longeth* to my lordes dueteeo 
 
 A, art thou than a baillif ? Ye, quod he. 
 (He dorste not for veray filth and shame 
 Say that he was a Sompnour, for the name.) 
 
 Be par dieu.v, quod this yeman, leve brother, 
 Thou art a baillif, and I am another. 
 I am unknowen, as in this contree. 
 Of thin acquaintance I wol prayen theO;, 
 And eke of brotherhed, if that thee listo 
 I have gold and silver lying in my chist ; 
 If that thee hap to come in to our shire, 
 Al shal be thin, right as thou wolt desire. 
 
 Grand mercy, quod this Sompnour, by my faith. 
 Everich in others hond his trouthe laith, 
 For to be sworne brethren til they dey. 
 In daliaunce they riden forth and pley. 
 
 This Sompnour, which that was as ful of jangles, 
 As ful of venime ben thise wariangies,*^ 
 And ever enquering upon every thing. 
 Brother, quod he, wher is now your dwelling, 
 
 1 Adulterer, 
 
 2 Probably some shrill musical instrument, used as a terra of reproach 
 
 3 Well met. 4 Qoest thou far ? 
 
 6 Belongeth. •> A kind of noisy bird. 
 
6993-7034. THE FRERES TALE, 193 
 
 ^N^ Another day if that I shuld you seche ? 
 
 This yeman him answerd in softe speche ; 
 Brother, quod he, fer in the North contree, 
 Wheras I hope somtime I shal thee see. 
 Or we depart I shal thee so wel wisse, 
 That of min hous ne shalt thou never misse. 
 
 Now brother, quod this Sompnour, I you pray, 
 Teche me, while that we riden by the way, 
 (Sith that ye ben a baillif as am I) 
 Som subtiltee, and tell me faithfully 
 In min office how I may moste winne. 
 And spareth not for conscience or for sinne. 
 But, as my brother, tell me how do ye. 
 
 Now by my trouthe, brother min, said he. 
 As I shal tellen thee a faithful tale. 
 My wages ben ful streit^ and eke ful smdle ; 
 My lord is hard to me and dangerous, 
 And min office is ful laborious ; 
 And therfore by extortion I leve, 
 Forsoth I take all that men wol me yeve. 
 Algates by sleighte or by violence 
 Fro yere to yere I win all my dispence ; 
 I can no better tellen faithfully. 
 
 Now certes, (quod this Sompnour) so fare I| 
 I spare not to taken, God it wote, 
 But if it be to hevy or to hote. 
 What T may gete in conseil prively, 
 No maner conscience of that have I. 
 N'ere^ min extortion, I might not liven, 
 Ne of swiche japes wol I not be shriven. 
 Stomak ne conscience know I non ; 
 I shrew thise shrifte-faders^ everich on. 
 Wel be we met by God and by Seint Jame. 
 But leve brother, tell me than thy name, 
 Quod this Sompnour. Bight in this mene while 
 This yeman gan a litel for to smile. 
 
 Brother, quod he, wolt thou that I thee telle ? 
 I am a fend, my dwelling is in helle. 
 And here I ride about my pourchasing. 
 To wote wher men wol give me any thing. 
 My pourchas is th'effect of all my rente. 
 Loke how thou ridest for the same entente 
 
 ^ Narrow. 2 Were it not for. 
 
 3 1 curse these father confessors. 
 
194 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 7035-7076 
 
 To "winnen good, tliou rekkest never hoWj 
 Eight so fare I, for riclen wol I now 
 TJnto the worldes ende for a praye. 
 
 A, quod this Sompnour, henedicite, what say ye I 
 I wend ye ■were a yeman trewely. 
 Ye have a mannes shape as wel as T. 
 Have ye than a figure determinat 
 In helle, ther^ ye ben in your estat ? 
 
 Nay certainly, quod he, ther have we non, 
 But whan us liketh we can take us on. 
 Or elles make you wene^ that we ben shape 
 Somtime like a man, or like an ajDe ; 
 Or like an angel can I ride or go ; 
 It is no wonder thing though it be so, 
 A lousy jogelour^ can deceiven thee. 
 And parde yet can"* I more craft than he. 
 
 Why, quod the Sompnour, ride ye than or goa 
 In sondry shape, and not alway in on 1 
 
 For we, quod he, wol us swiche forme make, 
 As most is able our preye for to take. 
 
 What maketh you to han al this labour ? 
 
 Ful many a cause, leve sire Sompnour, 
 Saide this fend. ' But alle thing hath time ; 
 The day is short, and it is passed prime, 
 And yet ne wan I nothing in this day ; 
 I wol entend to winning, if I may. 
 And not entend our thinges to declare : 
 For, brother min, thy wit is al to bare 
 To understand, although I told hem thee. 
 But for thou axest, why labouren we : 
 For somtime we be Goddes instruments, 
 And menes to don his commandements, 
 Whan that him list, upon his creatures, 
 In divers actes and in divers figures ; 
 Withouten him we have no might certain, 
 If that him list to stonden theragain. 
 And somtime at our praiere han we leve,^ 
 Only the body, and not the soule to greve : 
 Witnesse on Job, whom that we diden wo. 
 And somtime han we might on bothe two. 
 This is to sain, on soule and body eke. 
 And somtime be we suffered lor to seke 
 1 Where. 2 Think. 
 
 3 Juggler. 4 Know. 5 Leave* 
 
7077-7116. THE FKERES TALE. 195 
 
 Upon a man, and don liis soule imreste 
 
 And not his body, and all is for the beste. 
 
 Whan he withstandeth our temptation, 
 
 It is a cause of his salvation, 
 
 Al be it that it was not our entente 
 
 He shuld be sauf, but that we wold him hente.* 
 
 And somtime be we servants unto man, 
 
 As to the archebishop Seint Dunstan, 
 
 And to the apostle servant eke was I. 
 
 Yet tell me, quod this Sompnour, faithfully, 
 Make ye you newe bodies thus alway 
 Of elements ? The fend answered, nay : 
 Somtime we feine,^ and somtime we arise 
 "With dede bodies, in ful sondry wise, 
 And speke as renably, and faire, and wel, 
 As to the Phitonesse^ did Samuel : 
 And yet wol som men say it was not he. 
 I do no force of your divinitee. 
 But thing warne I thee, I wol not jape, 
 Thou wolt algates wete how we be shape ! 
 Thou shalt hereafterward, my brother dere, 
 Come, wher thee nedeth not of me to lere, 
 For thou shalt by thin owen experience 
 Conne in a chaiere rede* of this sentence. 
 Bet than Virgile, while he was on live, 
 Or Dant also. ISTow let us riden blive, 
 Fer I wol holden com23agnie with thee. 
 Til it be so that thou forsake me. 
 
 jSTay, quod this Sompnour, that shal never betide 
 I am a yeman knowen is ful wide ; 
 My trouthe wol I hold, as in this cas. 
 For though thou were the devil Sathanas, 
 My trouthe wol I hold to thee, my brother, 
 As I have sworne, and eche of us to other, 
 For to be trewe brethren in this cas, 
 And bothe we gon abouten our pourchas. 
 Take thou thy part, what that men wol thee yeve. 
 And I shal min, thus may we bothe leve. 
 And ii that any of us have more than other, 
 Let him be trewe, and part it with his brother. 
 
 I Seize, get possession of. 2 Feign. 
 
 s Pythoness, the witch of Endor. 
 
 4 Learn in a professor's chair the meaning. 
 
196 THE CANTEEBURY TALES. 7117-?156. 
 
 I grannte, quod the devil, by my fay. 
 And with that word they riden forth hir way, 
 And right at entring of the tonnes ende, 
 To which this Sompnonr shope^ him for to wencle, 
 They saw a cart, that charged was with hay, 
 Which that a carter drove forth on his way. 
 Depe was the way, for which the carte stood : 
 The carter smote, and cried as he were wood, 
 Heit scot, heit brok, what spare ye for the stones? 
 The fend (quod he) yon fecche body and bones. 
 As ferforthly- as ever ye were foled, 
 So mochel wo as I have with yon tholed.^ 
 The devil have al, bothe hors, and cart, and hay. 
 
 The Sompnonr sayde, here shal we have a pray; 
 And nere the fende he drow, as nought ne were, 
 Fnl prively, and rouned^ in his ere: 
 Herken my brother, herken, by thy faith, 
 Herest thou not, how that the carter saith ^ 
 Hent^ it anon, for he hath yeve it thee. 
 Both hay and cart, and eke his caples^ three. 
 
 Nay, quod the devil, God wot, never a del. 
 It is not his entente, trust thou me wel, 
 Axe him thyself, if thou not trowest me, 
 Or elles stint a while and thou shalt see. 
 
 This carter thakketh'' his hors upon the croupe,* 
 And they begonne to drawen and to stoupe. 
 Heit now, quod he, ther Jesu Crist you blesse, 
 And all his hondes werk, both more and lesse : 
 That was wel twight,^ min owen liard^° boy, 
 I pray God save thy body and Seint Eloy. 
 Now is my cart out of the slough parde. 
 
 Lo, brother, quod the fend, what told I thee ? 
 Here may ye seen, min owen dere brother. 
 The cherl spake o thing, but he thought another. 
 Let us go forth abouten our viage ; 
 Here win I nothing uj^on this cariage. 
 
 Whan that they comen somwhat out of toun, 
 This Sompnonr to his brother gan to roune ; 
 Brother, quod he, here woneth an old rebekke. 
 That had almost as lefe to lese hire nekke, 
 
 1 Shaped, resolved. 2 Quickly. 3 Suflfered. 
 
 * Wliispered. ^ Seize. 6 Horses. 
 
 7 Striketh. s The ridge of the back. 
 
 9 Pulled. 10 A common name for a grey horse. 
 
7157-7196. THE FRERES TALE. 197 
 
 As for to yeve a peny of hire good. 
 
 I wol have twelf j)eus^ though that she be wood/ 
 
 Or I wol somone hh^e to our office ; 
 
 And yet, God wot, of hire know I no vice. 
 
 Eut for thou canst not, as in tliis contree, 
 
 "Winnen thy cost, take here ensample of me. 
 
 This Sompnour clappeth at the widewes gc'.te ; 
 Come out, he sayd, thou olde very trate f 
 I trow thou hast som frere or preest with tliee. 
 
 Who clappeth ?* said this wif, hen^dicite, 
 God save you, sire, what is your swete will 1 
 
 I have, quod he, of somons here a bill. 
 Up XDeine of cursing, loke that thou be 
 To-morwe before the archedekenes knee, 
 To answere to the court, of certain thinges. 
 
 Now lord, quod she, Crist Jesu, king of kinges. 
 So wisly heipe me, as I ne may. 
 I have ben sike, and that ful many a day. 
 I may not go so fer (quod she) ne ride, 
 But I be ded, so priketh it in my side. 
 May I not axe a libel,^ sire Sompnour, 
 And answere ther by my procuratour^ 
 To swiche thing as men wold apjDosen me ? 
 
 Yes, quod this Sompnour, jDay anon, let see, 
 Twelf pens to me, and I wol thee acquite. 
 I shal no profit han therby but lita* 
 My maister hath tlie profit and not I 
 Come of, and let me riden hastily; 
 Yeve me twelf pens, I may no lenger tarie. 
 
 Twelf pens, quod she, now lady Seinte Marie 
 \: So wisly helpe me out of care and sinne. 
 
 This wide world though that I shuld it winne, 
 Ne have I not twelf pens within my hold. 
 Ye knowen wel that I am poure and old ; 
 Kithe' your almesse upon me poure wretche. 
 
 Nay than, quod he, the fbule fend me fetche, 
 If I thee excuse, though thou shuldest be spilt. 
 
 Alas! quod she, God wot, I have no gilt. 
 
 Pay me, quod he, or by the swete Seinte Anne 
 As I wol bere away thy newe panne 
 
 1 Pence. 2 jia^. 3 xrot, a familiar epithet for an old woman. 
 
 4 Knocketh. 5 A little book, or Avrit of indulgence. 
 
 6 Proctor. 7 Shew, bestow. 
 
198 THE CANTEEBUEY TALES. 7197-7238, 
 
 For dette^ whicli tliou owest me of old, 
 
 Whan that thou madest thyn husbond cokewold, 
 
 I paied at home for thy correction. 
 
 Thou liest, quod she, by my salvation, 
 "Ne was I never or now, widow ne wif, 
 Sompned unto your court in all my lif ; 
 Ne never I n'as but of my body trewe. 
 Unto the devil rough and blake of hewe 
 Yeve I thy body and my panne also. 
 
 And whan the devil herd hire cursen so 
 Upon hire knees, he sayd in this manere j 
 
 Now, Mabily, min owen moder dere, 
 Is this your will in ernest that ye sey ? 
 
 The devil, quod she, so fetche him or he dey. 
 And panne and all, but he wol him repent. 
 
 Nay, olde stot, that is not min entent, 
 Quod this Sompnour, for to repenten me 
 For any thing that I have had of thee ; 
 I wold I had thy smok and every cloth. 
 
 Now brother, quod the devil, be not wroth; 
 Thy body and this panne ben min by right. 
 Thou shalt with me to helle yet to-night, 
 Wher thou shalt knowen of our privetee 
 More than a maister of divinitee. 
 
 And with that word the foule fend him hent. 
 Body and soule, he with the devil went, 
 Wher as thise Sompnours han hir heritage ; 
 And God that maked after his image 
 Mankinde, save and gide us all and some. 
 And lene this Sompnour good man to become. 
 
 Lordings, I coude have told you, (quod this frere) 
 Had I had leiser for this Sompnour here. 
 After the text of Crist, and Poule,^ and John, 
 And of oure other doctours many on, 
 Swiche peines, that your hertes might agrise, 
 Al be it so, that no tonge may devise. 
 Though that I might a thousand winter telle. 
 The peines of thilke cursed hous ot helle. 
 But for to kepe us fro that cursed place, 
 Waketh, and prayeth Jesu ol his grace, 
 So kepe us fro the temptour Sathanas. 
 Herkueth this word, beware as in this caat 
 
 1 Paul. 
 
7239-7246. THE FRERES TALE. 199 
 
 The leon sit in liis awaite alway 
 
 To sle the innocent, if that he may. 
 
 Disposeth ay your hertes to withstond 
 
 The fend, that you wold maken thral and bond ; 
 
 He may not tempten yon over yoiu' might, 
 
 For Crist wol he your champion and your knight; 
 
 And prayeth, that this Sompnour him repent 
 
 Of his misdedes, or that the fend him heut. 
 
THE SOMPNOUEES PROLOGUE. 
 
 7247-7378. 
 
 This Sompnour in his stirops high he stood, 
 Upon this Frere his herte was so wood, 
 That like an aspen leef he qnoke for ire ; 
 Lordings, quod he, but o thing I desire, 
 I you beseche, that of your curtesie. 
 Sin ye han herd this false Frere lie, 
 As suffereth^ me I may my tale telle. 
 
 This Frere bosteth that he knoweth helle. 
 And, God it wot, that is but litel wonder, 
 Freres and fendes ben but litel asonder. 
 
 For parde, ye han often time herd telle, 
 How that a Frere ravished was to helle 
 In spirit ones by a visioun, 
 And as an angel lad^ him up and doun, 
 To shewen him the peines that ther were. 
 In all the place saw he not a Frere, 
 Of other folk he saw ynow in wo. 
 
 Unto this angel sjDake the Frere tho ; 
 Now, sire, quod he, han Freres swiclie a grace. 
 That non of hem shal comen in this place 1 
 
 Yes, quod this angel, many a millioun : 
 And unto Sathanas he lad him doun. 
 (And now hath Sathanas, saith he, a tayl 
 Broder than of a carrike^ is the sayl) 
 Hold up thy tayl, thou Sathanas, quod he, 
 Shew forth thin ers, and let the Frere see 
 Wher is the nest of Freres in this place. 
 And er than half a furlong way of space, 
 Eight so as bees out swarmen of an hive. 
 Out of the devils ers ther gonnen drive 
 A twenty thousand Freres on a route. 
 And thm'ghout hell they swarmed al abouie, 
 
 1 That ye suffer. 2 Led. 3 a large ship. 
 
7379-7312. THE SOMPNOURES TALE. 201 
 
 And com agen, as fast as they may gon, 
 And in liis ers tliey crej)en everich on : 
 He clapt liis tayl agen, and lay ful still. 
 
 This Frere, %vhan lie loked had his fill 
 Upon the turments of this sory place, 
 His spirit God restored of his grace 
 Into his body agen, and he awoke ; 
 But natheles lor fere yet he quoke, 
 • So was the devils ers ay in his mind, 
 That is his heritage oi veray kind. 
 
 God save yon alle, save this cursed ii^erej 
 My prologue wol I end in this manere. 
 
 LoRDiNGS, ther is in Yorkshire, as I gesse, 
 A mersli contree ycalled Holdernesse, 
 In which ther went a limitour aboute 
 To preche, and eke to beg, it is no doute. 
 And so befell that on a day this frere 
 Had preched at a chirche in his manere. 
 And specially aboven every thing 
 Excited he the jDcple in his precliing 
 To trentals,^ and to yeve for Goddes sake, 
 Wherwith men mighten holy houses make, 
 Ther as divine service is honoured, 
 Not ther as it is wasted and devoured, 
 "Ne ther it nedeth not for to be yeven. 
 As to possessioners, that mowen leven 
 (Thanked be God) in wele and abundance. 
 Trentals, sayd he, deliveren fro penance 
 Hir frendes soules, as wel olde as yonge, 
 Ye, whan that they ben hastily ysonge, 
 Not for to hold a preest jolif and gay, 
 He singeth not but o masse on a day. 
 Delivereth out (quod he) anon the soules. 
 Ful hard it is, with fleshhook or with oulea 
 
 1 A service of thirty masses for the dead. 
 
202 THE CANTERBUKY TALES. 7313-7334-. 
 
 To "ben yclawecl, or to bren or bake : 
 Now spede you hastily for Cristes sake. 
 
 And wlian this frere had said all his entent, 
 With qui cum patre forth his way he went. 
 Whan folk in chirche had yeve him what hem lest. 
 He went his way, no lenger wold he rest, 
 With scrippe and tipped staf, ytucked hie: 
 In every hous he gan to pore and prie, 
 And begged mele and chese, or elles corn. 
 His felaw had a staf tipped with horn, 
 A pair of tables all of ivory, 
 And a pointeP ypolished fetisly, 
 And wrote alway the names^ as he stood, 
 Of alle folk that yave hem any good, 
 Askaunce- that he wolde for hem preye. 
 Yeve us a bushel whete, or malt, or reye, 
 A Goddes kichel,^ or a trippe^ of chese, 
 Or elles what you list, we may not chese ;* 
 A Goddes halfpeny, or a masse peny ; 
 Or yeve us of your braun, if ye have any, 
 A dagon° of your blanket, leve dame, 
 Our suster dere, (lo here I write your name) 
 
 , 1 Pencil, style. 
 
 2 The Glossary interprets ascaunce to mean aslceic, aside, sideways; in a 
 fide view ; upon what authority I know not. It will be better to examine 
 the other passages in which the same word occurs, before we determine 
 the sense of it. See ver. 16, 806 : Ascaunce that craft is so light to lere. — 
 Tro. i. 285: Ascaunce,\o\ is tliis not wisely spoken ? — Ibid. 292: Ascaunce, 
 what, may I not stonden here? — Lydg. Trag. fol. 136, b : Ascaunce I am 
 of maners most chaungeable. In the first and last instance, as well as in 
 the text, ascaunce seems to signify simply as if; quasi. In the two otliers 
 it signifies a little more ; as if to say. This latter signification may be 
 clearly established from the third line, which in the Italian original (Filos- 
 trato di Boccaccio, 1. i.) stands thus : Quasi dicesse, e no ci si puo stare ? So 
 that ascaunce is there equivalent to quasi dicesse in Italian. — TyrwMlt. 
 
 3 " It was called a Goddes kichel, because godfathers and godmothers 
 used commonly to give one of them to their godchildren, when they asked 
 blessing." Sp. And so we are to suppose a Goddes halfpeny, in ver. 
 7331, was called for the same reason, &c. But this is all gratis dictum, I 
 believe. The phrase is French, and the true meaning of it is explained by 
 M. de la Monnoye in a note upon the Cojites de B. D. Periers, t. ii. p. 107. 
 Belle serrure de Dieio] Expression du petit peuple, qui raporte pieusement 
 tout a Dieu. — Rien n'est plus commun dans la bouche des bonnes vieilles, 
 que ces especes d' I-Iebra'ismes : II m'encoute un hel ecu deDieu; line me 
 Teste que cepauvre enfant de Dieu ; Bonez moi une benite aumone de Dieu.— 
 Tyrwhitt. 
 
 4 A small piece. ^ Choose. ^ Slip. 
 
7335-737G. THE SOMPNOURES TALE. 203 
 
 Bacon or beef, or swiclie thing as je find. 
 
 A sturdy harlot went hem ay behind, 
 That was hir hostes man, and bare a salvke, 
 And what men yave hem, laide it on his bakke. 
 And whan that he was out at dore, anon 
 He planed away the names everich on, 
 That he before had written in his tables : 
 He served hem with nifles^ and with fables. 
 
 Nay, ther thou liest, thou Sompnour, quod the frere. 
 Pees, quod our hoste, for Cristes moder dere, 
 Tell forth thy tale, and spare it not at all. 
 
 So thrive I, quod this Sompnour, so I shall. 
 
 So long he went fro hous to hous, til he 
 Came to an hous, ther he was wont to be 
 Refreshed more than in a hundred places, 
 Sike lay the husbond man, whos that the place 1% 
 Bedred- upon a couche low he lay: 
 Deus hie, quod he, O Thomas frend, good day, 
 Sayde this frere all curtisly and soft. 
 Thomas, quod he, God yelde it you, ful oft 
 Have I upon this benche faren ful wele, 
 Here have I eten many a mery mele. 
 And fro the benche he drove away the cat, 
 And laied adoun his potent^ and his hat, 
 And eke his scrip, and set himself adoun: 
 His felaw was ywalked into toun 
 Forth with his knave, into that hostelrie, . 
 Wlier as he sliope^ him thilke night to lie. 
 
 O dere maister, quod this sike man, 
 How have ye faren sin that March began ? 
 I saw you not this fourtene night and more. 
 
 God wot, quod he, laboured have I fal sore. 
 And specially for thy salvation 
 Have I sayd many a precious orison, 
 And for our other frendes, God hem blesse. 
 I have this day ben at your chirche at messe. 
 And said a sermon to my simple wit, 
 Not all after the text of holy wiit, . 
 For it is hard to you, as I suppose, 
 And therefore wol I teche you ay the glose, 
 Glosing is a ful glorious thing certain, 
 For letter sleth/ so as we clerkes sain. 
 
 • Trifles. 2 Bedridden. 3 Walking- Stick. 
 
 4 Shaped. 5 xhe letter killeth, 
 
 18 
 
204 THB CAKTERBURY TALES. 7377-7i'18> 
 
 Ther liave I tauglit liem to he cliaritable, 
 And spend liir good ther it is resonable. 
 And ther I saw our dame, a, wher is she ? 
 
 Yonder I trow that in the yard she be, 
 Sayde this man, and she wol come anon. 
 
 Ey maister, welcome be ye by Seint John, 
 Sayde this wif, how fare ye hertily 1 
 
 This frere ariseth up ful curtisly, 
 And hire embraceth in his amies narwe, 
 And kisseth hire swete, and chirketh^ as a spar we 
 With his lippes : dame, quod he, right wel, 
 As he that is your servant every del. 
 Thanked be God, that you yaf soule and lif, 
 Yet saw I not this day so faire a wif 
 In all the chirche, God so save me. 
 
 Ye, God amende defautes, sire, quod she, 
 Algates welcome be ye, by my fay. 
 
 Grand onercy, dame, that have I found alway. 
 But of your grete goodnesse, by your leve, 
 I wolde pra,y you that ye not you greve, 
 I wol with Thomas speke a litel throw :- 
 Thise curates ben so negligent and slow 
 To gropen tendrely a conscience. 
 In shrift, in preching is my diligence 
 And study, in Peters wordes and in Foulos, 
 I walke and fisshe Cristen mennes soules, 
 To yeld our Lord Jesu his propre rent ; 
 To sprede his word is sette all min entent. 
 
 Now by your faith, o dere sire, quod she, 
 Chideth him wel for Seinte Charitee. 
 He is ay angry as is a pissemire. 
 Though that he have all that he can desire, 
 Though I him wrie^ a-night, and make him warm, 
 And over him lay my leg and eke min arm, 
 He groneth as our bore, lith in our stie : 
 Other disport of him right non have I, 
 I may not plese him in no maner cas. 
 
 O Thomas, yeo vous die, Thomas, Thomas, 
 This maketh the fend, this muste ben amended. 
 Ire is a thing that high God hath defended, 
 And therof wol I speke a word or two. 
 
 Now, maister, quod the wif, er that I go^ 
 
 ' Chirpeth. ^ Time. 3 Cover, 
 
7419-74C0. THE SOMPNOURES TALE. 205 
 
 What wol ye dine 1 I wol go tlierabonte. 
 
 Now, dame, quod lie, jeo vous die sanz doute 
 Have I nat of a capon but tlie liver, 
 And of your white bred nat but a shiver. 
 And after that a rested pigges hed, 
 (But I ne wolde for me no beest were ded) 
 Than had I with you homly suffisance. 
 I am a man of litel sustenance. 
 My spirit hath his fostring in the Bible^ 
 My body is ay so redy and so penible^ 
 To waken, that my stomak is destroied. 
 I pray you, dame, that ye be nought annoied. 
 Though I so frendly you my conseil shewe ; 
 By God I n'old have told it but a tewe. 
 
 JSTow, sire, quod she, but o word er I go. 
 My child is ded within thise wekes two, 
 Sone after that ye went out oi this toim. 
 
 His deth saw I by revelatioun, 
 Sayde this frere, at home in our dortour ^ 
 I dare wel sain, that er than half an hour 
 After his deth, I saw him borne to blisae 
 In min avision, so God me wisse. 
 So did our sextein, and our fermerere,^ 
 That han ben trewe freres fifcy yere ; 
 They may now, God be thanked of his lone,* 
 Maken hir jubilee, and walke alone. 
 And up I arose, and all our covent eke, 
 " With many a tere trilling on our cheke, 
 W^ithouten noise or clatering of belles, 
 Te deum was our song, and nothing elles, 
 Save that to Crist I bade an orison, 
 Thanking him of my revelation. 
 Tor, sire and dame, trusteth me right wel, 
 Our orisons ben more effectuel, 
 And more we seen of Cristes secree thinges. 
 Than boreP folk, although that they be kinges. 
 We live in poverte, and in abstinence, 
 And borel folk in richesse and dispence 
 Of mete and drinke, and in hir foule delit. 
 We han this worldes lust all in despit. 
 Lazar and Dives liveden diversely, 
 And divers guerdon hadden they therby. 
 1 Painstaking. 2 Dormitory. 3 Keeper of the infirmarjr. ' 
 
 4 Loan, gift. ^ Common. See on ver. 5938* 
 
206 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 7461-7502. 
 
 Who so wol pray, lie must fast and be clene, 
 And fat liis soule, and make his body lene. 
 We fare, as sayth the apostle ; cloth and food 
 Sufficeth "US, though they be not ful good. 
 The clenenesse and the fasting of us freres, 
 Maketh that Crist accepteth our praieres. 
 
 Lo, Moises forty daies and forty night 
 Fasted, er that the high God ful of might 
 Spake with him in the mountagne of Sinay 
 With empty wombe of fasting many a day, 
 Eeceived he the lawe, that was writen 
 With Goddes finger ; and Eli, wel ye wite% 
 In mount Oreb, er he had any speche 
 With highe God, that is our lives leche,^ 
 He fasted long, and was in contemplance. 
 
 Aaron, that had the temple in governance, 
 And eke the other preestes everich on, 
 Into the temple whan they shulden gon 
 To praien for the peple, and do servise. 
 They n'olden drinken in no manor wise 
 No drinke, which that might hem dronken make. 
 But ther in abstinence pray and wake. 
 Lest that they deiden 9 take heed what I say — 
 But they be sobre that for the peple pray — 
 Ware that I say — no more : for it sufficeth. 
 Our Lord Jesu, as holy writ deviseth, 
 Yave us ensamj^le of fasting and praieres ; 
 Therfore we mendiants, we sely^ freres, 
 Ben wedded to poverte and continence, 
 To charitee, humblesse, and abstinence. 
 To persecution for rightwisuesse. 
 To weping, misericorde, and to clenenesse. 
 And therfore may ye see that our praieres 
 (I speke of us, we mendiants,^ we freres) 
 Ben to the highe God more acceptable 
 Than youres, with your festes at your table. 
 
 Fro Paradis first, if I shal not lie, 
 Was man out chased for his glotonie. 
 And chast was man in Paradis certain. 
 But herken now, Thomas, what I shal sain, 
 I have no text of it, as I sujppose. 
 But I shal find it in a maner glose ;^ 
 
 ' Physician. 2 Died. 3 HarmlesB. 
 
 * Mendicants. 5 x sort of gloss or note. 
 
7o03-75i4. THE SOMPNOURES TALE. 207 
 
 That siDecially our SAvete Lord Jesus 
 
 Spake this by freres, whan he sayde thus. 
 
 Blessed be they that poure in spirit ben. 
 
 And so forth all the gospel may ye sen. 
 
 Whether it be liker our profession, 
 
 Or hirs that swimmen in possession, 
 
 Fie on hir pompe, and on hir glotonie, 
 
 And on hir lewednesse : I hem defie. 
 
 Me thinketh they ben like Jovinian, 
 
 Fat as a whale, and walken as a swan j 
 
 Al vinolent as hotel in the spence ;^ 
 
 Hir praier is of ful gret reverence ; 
 
 Whan they for soules say the Psalm of Davit, 
 
 Lo, buf they say, Cor meum eructavit. 
 
 Who foloweth Cristes gospel and his lore 
 But we, that humble ben, and chast, and pore. 
 Workers of Goddes word, not auditours ? 
 Therfore right as an hauke upon a sours- 
 XJp springeth into the aire, right so praieres 
 Of charitable and chast besy freres, 
 Maken hir sours to Goddes eres^ two. 
 Thomas, Thomas, so mote I ride or go, 
 And by that lord that cleped is Seint Ive, 
 N'ere thou our broder, shuldest thou not thrive. 
 In our chapitre pray we day and night 
 To Crist, that he thee sende hele and might 
 Thy body for to welden^ hastily. 
 
 God wot, quod he, nothing therof fele I, 
 As help me Crist, as I in fewe yeres 
 Have sjoended ujDon divers maner freres 
 Ful many a pound, yet fare I never the bet; 
 Certain my good have I almost beset :'^ 
 Farewel my good, ior it is al ago. 
 
 The frere answered, O Thomas, dost thou so ? 
 What nedeth you diverse freres to seche? 
 What nedeth him that hath a parfit leche. 
 To sechen other leches in the toun ? 
 Yoiu' inconstance is your confusion. 
 Hold ye than me, or elles our covent, 
 To pray for you ben insufficient ? 
 Thomas, that jape n'is not worth a mite ; 
 Your maladie is lor we han to lite. 
 
 1 Store-room. " Eise. 3 Eanu 
 
 * Govern. 5 Employed, spent. 
 
208 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 754)5-7586. 
 
 A, yeve that covent half a quarter otes ; 
 And yeve that covent four and twenty grotes; 
 And yeve that frere a peny, and let him go : 
 Nay, nay, Thomas, it may no thing be soo 
 What is a ferthing worth parted on twelve 1 
 Lo, eche thing that is oned^ in himselve 
 Is more strong than whan it is yscatered, 
 Thomas, of me thou shalt not ben yflatered, 
 Thou woldest han our labom* al for nought. , 
 
 The highe God, that all this world hath wrought, 
 Saith, that the workman worthy is his hire- 
 Thomas, nought of your tresor I desire 
 As for myself, but that all our covent 
 To pray for you is ay so diligent : 
 And for to bilden Cristes owen chirche. 
 Thomas, if ye wol lernen for to wirche,^ 
 Of bilding up of chirches may ye finde 
 If it be good, in Thomas lif of Inde. 
 
 Ye liggen here ful of anger and of ire, 
 "With which the devil set your herte on iire, 
 And chiden here this holy innocent 
 Your wif, that is so good and patient. 
 And therf ore trow me, Thomas, it thee lest, 
 Ne strive not with thy wif, as for the best. 
 And bere this word away now by thy faith, 
 Touching swiche thing, lo, what the wise saith : 
 
 Within thy hous ne be thou no leon ; 
 To thy suggets^ do non oppression ; 
 Ne make thou not thin acquaintance to flee. 
 
 And yet, Thomas, eftsones charge I thee. 
 Beware from ire that in thy bosom slepeth. 
 Ware fro the serpent, that so slily crepeth 
 Under the gras, and stingeth subtilly. 
 Beware, my sone, and herken patiently, 
 That twenty thousand men han lost hir lives 
 IFor striving with hir lemmans and hir wives. 
 Now sith ye han so holy and meek a wif, 
 What nedeth you, Thomas, to maken strif ? 
 Ther n'is ywis no serpent so cruel. 
 Whan man tredeth on his tail, ne half so fel, 
 As woman is, whan she hath caught an ire ; 
 Veray* vengeance is than all hire desire. 
 1 United. '^ Work. 
 
 s Subjects. 4 True. 
 
7587-7626. THE SOMPNOUEES TALE. 209 
 
 Ire is a sinne, on of the grete seven, 
 
 Abhominable unto the God of heven, 
 
 And to himself it is destruction. 
 
 Tliis every lewed^ vicar and parson 
 
 Can say, how ire engendreth homicide ; 
 
 Ire is in soth executour of pride. 
 I coud of ire say so mochel sorwe, 
 
 My tale shulde lasten til to-morwe. 
 
 And therfore pray I God both day and nighfc, 
 
 An irous^ man God send him litel might. 
 
 It is gret harm, and certes gret pitee 
 
 To sette an irons man in high degree. 
 Whilom ther was an irons potestat. 
 
 As saith Senek,^ that during his estat 
 
 Upon a day out riden knightes two. 
 
 And, as fortune wold that it were so, 
 
 That on of hem came home, that other nought. 
 
 Anon the knight before the juge is brought. 
 
 That saide thus ; thou hast thy felaw slain, 
 
 For which I deme thee to the deth certain. 
 
 And to another knight commanded he ; 
 
 Ge, lede him to the deth, I charge thee. 
 
 And happed, as they wenten by the wey 
 
 Toward the place ther as he shulde dey. 
 
 The knight came, w^hich men wenden^ had be dede. 
 
 Than thoughten they it was the beste rede 
 
 To lede hem bothe to the juge again. 
 
 They saiden, lord, the knight ne hath not slain 
 
 His felaw, here he stondeth hoi alive. 
 Ye shull be ded, quod he, so mot I thrive, 
 
 That is to say, both on, and two, and three. 
 
 And to the firste knight right thus spake he. 
 I damned^ thee, thou must algate be ded; 
 
 And thou also must nedes lese thyn hed, 
 
 For thou art cause why thy felaw cleyeth. 
 
 And to the thiddde knight 'right thus he seyeth, 
 
 Thou hast not don that I commanded thee. 
 
 And thus he did do slen hem alle three. 
 Irous Cambises was eke dronkelew,*^ 
 
 And ay delighted him to ben a shrew. 
 1 Simple, unlearned. - Angry. 
 
 *i This story is told of Cn. Piso, by Seneca de Ira, i. c. xvi., and of aa 
 Emperor Heraclius, in the Gesta Rom. c. cxi. — Tyndiitt. 
 ■* Thought. 5 Condemned. 
 
 6 Drunken, given to drink. See Seneca de Ira, iii. 14. 
 
210 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 7627-7GG6. 
 
 And so befell, a lord of his meinie,* 
 
 That loved vertuous moralitee, 
 
 Sayd on a day betwix hem two right thus 
 
 A lord is lost, if he be vicious ; 
 
 And dronkennesse is eke a foiile record 
 
 Of any man, and namely" of a lord. 
 
 Ther is ful many an eye and many an ere 
 
 Awaiting on a lord, and he n'ot wher. 
 
 For Goddes love drinke more attemprely •} 
 
 Win'* maketh man to lesen^ wretchedly 
 
 His mind, and eke his limmes everich on. 
 
 The revers shalt thou see, quod he, anon, 
 
 And preve it by thyn owen experience, 
 
 That win ne doth to folk no swiche offence, 
 
 Ther is no win bereveth me my might 
 
 Of hond, ne foot, ne oi min eyen sight. 
 
 And for despit he dranke mochel more 
 
 An hundred part than he had don before, 
 
 And right anon, this cursed irons wretche 
 
 This knightes sone let before him fetche. 
 
 Commanding him he shuld before him stond: 
 
 And sodenly he took his bow in hond, 
 
 And up the streng he pulled to his ere. 
 
 And with an arwe he slow the child right ther. 
 
 Now whether have I a siker*^ hond or non ? 
 Quod he. Is all my might and minde agon ? 
 Hath win bereved me min eyen sight 1 
 
 What shuld I tell the answer of the knight 1 
 His son was slain, ther is no more to say. 
 Beth ware" therfore with lordes for to play, 
 Singeth^ Flaceho, and I shal if I can, 
 But if it be unto a poure man : 
 To a poure man men shuld his vices telle, 
 But not to a lord, though he shuld go to helle 
 
 Lo, irons Cirus,^ thilke Persien,^" 
 How he destroyed the river of Gisen,^^ 
 For that an hors of his was dreint^" theriBj 
 Whan that he wente Babilon to win : 
 He made that the river was so smal, 
 That wimmen might it waden over al. 
 
 * Court. 2 Especially. 3 Temperately. 
 
 ■* Wine. 5 Lose. 6 Sickly, unsteady. 
 
 '/ Beware ye how ye play, &c. 8 S'mg. 9 Cyrus, 
 
 '•^ I. e., also a Persian. i^ Gyndes. 12 Drowned. 
 
7C67-770C. THE SOMPNOUKES TALE. 211 
 
 Lo, what said lie, that so wel techen can ? 
 Ne be no felaw to non irons man, 
 Ne with no wood^ man walke by the way, 
 Lest thee repent ; I wol no forther sa}^ 
 
 Now, Thomas, leve brother, leve thin ire, 
 Thou shalt me find as just, as is a squire ; 
 Hold not the devils knif ay to thin herte, 
 Thin anger doth thee all to sore smerte, 
 But shew to me all thy confession. 
 
 Nay, quod the sike man, by Seint Simon. 
 I have ben shriven this day of my curat ; 
 I have him told al hoUy^ min estat. 
 Nedeth no mo to speke of it, sayth he, 
 But if me list of min humilitee. 
 
 Yeve me than of thy gold to make our cloistre, 
 Quod he, for many a muscle and many an oistre, 
 "Whan other men han ben ful wel at ese. 
 Hath been our food, our cloistre for to rese:^ 
 And yet, God wot, uneth^ the fundament 
 Parfourmed is, ne of our pavement 
 N'is not a tile yet within our wones r' 
 By God we owen fourty pound for stones. 
 Now help, Thomas, for him that harwed*^ liellej 
 For elles mote we oure bokes selle, 
 And if ye lacke oure predication/ 
 Than goth this world all to destruction 
 For who so fro this world wold us bereve, 
 So God me save, Thomas, by your leve. 
 He wold bereve out of this world the sonne. 
 For who can teche and worken as we conne 1 
 And that is not of litel time, (quod he) 
 But sithen Elie was, and Elisee, 
 Han freres ben, that find I of record, 
 In charitee, ythonked be our Lord. 
 Now, Thomas, help for Seinte Charitee. 
 
 And doun anon he sette him on his knee. 
 
 This sike man woxe wel neigh wood for ire, 
 He wolde that the frere had ben a-fire 
 Withhis false dissimulation. 
 
 Swiche thing as is in my j)Ossession, 
 
 >Mad. 
 
 2 Wholly. 
 
 3 Raise. 
 
 ■1 Scarcely, i.e., not yet. 
 
 
 SDweUingfc 
 
 6 Harassed, terrified. 
 
 7 Preaching. 
 
 
212 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 7707- 
 
 Qiiod lie, that may I yeve you and non otlier: 
 Ye sain me thus, how that I am your brother. 
 Ye certes, quod this frere, ye, trusteth wel ; 
 I took our dame the letter of our sele. 
 
 Now wel, quod he, and somwhat shal I yev© 
 Unto your holy covent while I live ; 
 And in thin hond thou shalt it have anon, 
 On this condition, and other non, 
 That thou depart' it so, my dere brother, 
 That every frere have as mo die as other: 
 This shalt thou swere on thy profession 
 Withouten fraud or cavilation. 
 
 I swere it, quod the frere, upon my faith. 
 And therwithall his hond in his he layth ; 
 Lo here my iaith, in me shal be ncjak. 
 
 Than put thin hond adoun right by my bak, 
 Saide this man, and grope wel behind, 
 Benethe my buttok, ther thou slialte find 
 A thing, that I have hid in privetee. 
 A, thought this frere, that shal go with me. 
 And doun his hond he launcheth to the cliftej* 
 In hope for to finden ther a gifte. 
 
 And whan this sike man felte this frere 
 About his towel groj)en ther and here, 
 Amid his hond he let the frere a fart ; 
 Ther n'is no capel drawing in a cart, 
 That might han let a fart of swiclie a soun. 
 
 The frere up sterte, as doth a wood leoun 
 A, false cherl, quod he, for Goddes bones, 
 This hast thou in despit don for the nones : 
 Thou shalt abie^ this fart, if that I may. 
 
 His meinie,^ which that l.erden this affray, 
 Came leping in, and chased out the frere, 
 And forth he goth with a ful angry chere, 
 And fet' his f elaw, ther as lay his store : 
 He loked as it were a wilde bore, 
 And griiite with his teeth, so was he wroth. 
 A sturdy pas doun to the court he goth, 
 Wher as ther vroned^ a man of gret honour, 
 To whom that he was alway conf essour : 
 This worthy man was lord of that village. 
 This frere came, as he were in a rage, 
 » Divide. 2 cieft. 3 Suffer foCo 
 
 4 Servants. ^ Fetched. 6 Dwelt. 
 
7719-7700. THE SOMPNOURES TALE. 213 
 
 Wlier as tliis lord sat eting at his bord : 
 Unnetlies might the frere speke o word, 
 Til atte last he saide, God you see. 
 
 This lord gan loke, and saide, Benedicite! 
 What ? frere John, Avhat maner world is this ? 
 I see wel that som thing ther is amis ; 
 Ye loken as the wood were ful ot theves. 
 Sit doun anon, and tell me what your greve is, 
 And it shal ben amended, if I may. 
 
 I have, quod he, had a despit to day, 
 God yelde you, adoun in your village, 
 That in this world ther n'is so poure a page, 
 That he n'olde have abhominatioun 
 Of that I have received in youre toun : 
 And yet ne greveth me nothing so sore, 
 As that the olde cherl, with lokkes hore. 
 Blasphemed hath oure holy covent eke. 
 
 Now, maister, quod this lord, T you beseke. 
 
 No maister, sire, quod he, but servitour, 
 Though I have had in scole that honour, 
 God liketh not, that men us Eabi call. 
 Neither in market, ne in your large halL 
 
 No force,^ quod he, but tell me all your greib. 
 
 Sire, quod this Frere, an odious meschefe 
 This day betid is to min ordre, and me, 
 And so 'peT coiisequens to eche degree 
 Of holy chu^che, God amende it sone. 
 
 Sire, quod the lord, ye wot what is to don 
 Distemj)re you not, ye ben my confess our. 
 Ye ben the salt of the erthe, and the savour ; 
 For Goddes love your patience now hold ; 
 Telle me your grefe. And he anon him told 
 As ye han herd before, ye wot wel what. 
 
 The lady of the hous ay stille sat. 
 Til she had herde what the Frere said. 
 
 Ey, goddes moder, quod she, blisful maid, 
 Is ther ought elles ? tell me faithfully. 
 Madame, quod he, how thinketh you therby 1 
 How that me thinketh? quod she; so God me sprde, 
 I say, a cherle hath don a cherles dede. 
 What shuld I say ? God let him never the f 
 His sike hed is ful of vanitee ; 
 I hold him in a maner frenesie, 
 ^ No matter. 2 Never fare well, or prosper. 
 
214 THE CANTEKBURY TALES. 7791-7833. 
 
 Madame, quod he, by God I slial not lie, 
 But 1 in other wise may ben awreke,^ 
 I shal diffame him over all, ther I speke ; 
 This false blasphemour, that charged me 
 To parten that wol not departed be, 
 To every man ylike, with meschance. 
 
 The lord sat stille, as he were in a trance, 
 And in his herte he rolled up and doun, 
 How had this cherl imaginatioun 
 To shewen swiche a probleme to the frere. 
 Never erst or now ne herd I swiche matere; 
 I trow the Devil put it in his mind. 
 In all Arsmetrike'-^ shal ther no man find 
 Beforn this day of swiche a question. 
 Who shulde make a demonstration, 
 That every man shuld han ylike his part 
 As of a soun or savour of a fart ? 
 
 nice proude cherl, I shrewe his face.^ 
 
 Lo, sires, quod the lord, with harde grace. 
 Who ever herd of swiche a thing or now ? 
 To every man ylike ? tell me how. 
 It is an impossible, it may not be. 
 Ey, nice cherl, God let him never the.* 
 The rombling of a fart, and every soun," 
 N'is but of aire reverberatioun, 
 And ever it wasteth lite and lite away; 
 Ther n'is no man can demen, by my fay, 
 If that it were departed equally. 
 What 1 lo my cherl, lo yet how shrewedly 
 Unto my confessour to-day he spake ; 
 
 1 hold him certain a demoniake. 
 
 Now ete your mete, and let the cherl go play, 
 Let him go honge himself a devil way. 
 
 Now stood the lordes squier atte bord, 
 That carf his mete, and herde word by word 
 Of all this thing, of which I have you sayd. 
 
 My lord, quod he, be ye not evil apaid, 
 I coude telle for a goune-cloth^ 
 To you, sire frere, so that ye be not wroth, 
 How that this fart should even ydeled^ be 
 Amonge your covent, if it liked thee. 
 
 ' Avenged. 2 Arithmetic. 3 Curse his impudence. 
 
 * Thrive. & Stuff enough to make a gown. ^ Distributed. 
 
7S33-7S7G. THE SOMPKOURES TALE. 215 
 
 Tell, quod the lord, and thou shalt have anon 
 A goune-cloth, by God and by seint John. 
 
 My lord, quod he, whan that the weder is faire, 
 Withouten winde, or pertourbing of aire, 
 Let bring a cart-whele here into this hall, 
 But loke that it have his sj)okes all ; 
 Twelf spokes hath a cart-whele communly ; 
 And bring me than twelf freres, wete ye why ? 
 Tor threttene is a covent as I gesse : 
 Your confessour here for his worthinesse 
 Shal parfourme up the noumbre of his covent. 
 Than shull they knele adoun by on assent, 
 And to every spokes end in this manere 
 Eul sadly lay his nose shal a frere ; 
 Your noble confessour, ther God him save, 
 Shal hold his nose upright under the nave. 
 Than shal this cherl, with bely stif and touglit 
 As any tabour, hider ben ybrought ; 
 And set him on the whele right of this cart 
 Upon the nave, and make him let a fart, 
 And ye shull seen, up peril of my lif. 
 By veray preef that is demonstratif. 
 That equally the soun of it wol wende, 
 And eke the stinke, unto the spokes ende, 
 Save that this worthy man, your confessour^ 
 (Because he is a man of gret honour) 
 Shal han the firste fruit, as reson is. 
 The noble usage of freres yet it is, 
 The worthy men of hem shul first be served. 
 And certainly he hath it wel deserved ; 
 He hath to-day taught us so mochel good, 
 With preching in the pulpit ther he stood. 
 That I may vouchesauf, I say for me, 
 He hadde the firste smel of fartes three, 
 And so wold all his brethren hardely, 
 He bereth him so faire and holyly. 
 
 The lord, the lady, and eche man, save the frere, 
 Sayden, that Jankin spake in this matere 
 As wel as Euclide, or elles Ptholomee. 
 Touching the cherl, they sayden, subtiltee 
 And highe wit made him speken as he spake; 
 He n'is no fool, ne no demoniake. 
 And Jankin hath y wonne a newe goune ; 
 My tale is don, we ben almost at toune. 
 19 
 
21Q 
 THE CLEEKES PROLOGUK 
 
 7877-7908. 
 
 Sire Clerk oi Oxenforde, our hoste said, 
 Ye ride as stille and coy, as doth a maid, 
 "Were^ newe spoused, sitting at the bord : 
 This day ne herd I of your tonge a word. 
 I trow ye stiidie abouten som sophune : 
 But Salomon saith, that every thing hath timSo 
 For Goddes sake as beth^ of better chere, 
 It is no time for to studien here. 
 Tell us som mery tale by your fay ; 
 For -what man that is entred in a play, 
 He nedes most unto the play assent. 
 But precheth not, as freres don in Lent, 
 To make us for our olde sinnes wepe, 
 Ne that thy tale make us not to slepe. 
 
 Tell us som mery thing of aventures, 
 Your termes, your coloures, and your figures, 
 Kepe hem in store, til so be ye endite 
 Hie stile, as whan that men to kinges write. 
 Speketh so plain at this time, I you pray, 
 That we may understonden what ye say. 
 
 This worthy Clerk benignely answerde ; 
 Hoste, quod he, I am under your yerde,^ 
 Ye have of us as now the governance. 
 And therfore wolde I do you obeysance, 
 As fer as reson asketh hardely :'^ 
 I wol you tell a tale, which that I 
 Lerned at Padowe'^ of a worthy clerk, 
 As preved by his wordes and his werk. 
 He is now ded, and nailed in his cheste, 
 I pray to God so yeve his soule reste. 
 
 Fraunceis Petrark, the laureat poete, 
 Highte this clerks whos rethorike swete 
 
 ^ Who were, 2 dq be. s Staff", i.e., control. 
 
 4 Certainly. » Padua. 
 
7909-7'J42. THE CLERKES TALE. 217 
 
 Enlumined all Itaille of poetrie, 
 
 As Lynyan^ did of pliilosopliie, 
 
 Or law, or other art particulere : 
 
 But deth, tliat wol not suffre us dwellen liere, 
 
 But as it were a twinkling of an eye, 
 
 Hem both hath slaine, and alle we shul dye. 
 
 But forth to tellen of this worthy man, 
 That taughte me this tale, as I began, 
 I say that first he with hie stile enditeth 
 (Or he the body of his tale writeth) 
 A proheme, in the which descriveth he 
 Piemont, and of Saluces the contree, 
 And speketh of Apennin the hilles hie, 
 That ben the boundes of west Lumbardie: 
 And of mount Vesulus in special, 
 Wher as the Poo out of a welle smal 
 Taketh his firste springing and his sours, 
 That estward ay encreseth in his cours 
 To Emelie- ward, to Ferare, and Venise, 
 The which a louge thing were to devise. 
 And trewely, as to my jugement, 
 Me thinketh it a thing impertinent, 
 Save that he wol conveyen his matere : 
 But this is the tale which that ye mow here. 
 
 Ther is right at the West side of Itaille 
 
 Doun at the rote of Yesulus the cold, 
 
 A lusty plain, habundant of vitaille, 
 
 Ther many a toun and tour thou maist behold, 
 
 That founded were in time of fathers old, 
 
 And many another delitable sighte, 
 
 And Saluces this noble contree highte. 
 
 A markis whilom lord was of that lond. 
 As were his worthy elders him before, 
 And obeysant, ay redy to his bond, 
 
 ' An early lawyer of Milan, skilled in astrology and other sciences.- 
 See Tt/rwhiU, " A part of Italy, so called from the via Emilia. 
 
218 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 7943-7931, 
 
 Were all his lieges, bothe lesse and more: 
 Thus in delit he liveth, and hath don yore, 
 Beloved and drad, thurgh favour of fortune, 
 Both of his lordeSj and of his commune. 
 
 Therwith he was, to speken of linage, 
 The gentilest yhorne of Lumbardie, 
 A faire person, and strong, and yong of age, 
 And ful of honour and of curtesie : 
 Discret ynough, his contree for to gie,^ 
 Sauf in som thinges that he was to blame, 
 And Walter was this yonge lordes name. 
 
 I blame him thus, that he considered nouglid 
 In time coming what might him betide, 
 But on his lust present was all his thought. 
 And for to hauke and hunt on every side : 
 Wei neigh all other cures let he slide, 
 And eke he n'old (and that was worst of all) 
 Wedden no wif for ought that might befall. 
 
 Only that jooint his peple bare so sore, 
 That flockmeP on a day to him they went. 
 And on of hem, tliat wisest was of lore,^ 
 (Or elles that the lord wold best assent 
 That he shuld tell him what the peple meni^ 
 Or elles coud he wel shew swiche matere) 
 He to the markis said as ye shull here. 
 
 O noble markis, your humanitee 
 Assureth us and yeveth us hardinesse,^ 
 As oft as time is of necessitee, 
 That we to you mow tell our hevinesse : 
 Accepteth, lord, than of your gentillesse, 
 That we with pitous herte unto you plaine. 
 And let your eres nat my vols disdaine. 
 
 Al have I not to don in this matere 
 More than another man hath in this place. 
 Yet for as moch as ye, my lord so dere, 
 Han alway shewed me favour and grace, 
 I dare the better aske of you a space 
 Of audience, to shewen our request. 
 And ye, my lord, to don right as you lest. 
 
 i Guide. 2 In a flock. s Counsel. ^ Confidence. 
 
7982-S019. THE CLEEKES TALE. 219 
 
 For certes, lord, so wel us liketh you 
 And all your werke, and ever have don, tliat v/e 
 Ne couden not ourself devisen how 
 We mighten live in more felicitee : 
 Save o thing, lord, if it your wille be, 
 That for to be a wedded man you lest,^ 
 Than were your peple in soverain herfces rest. 
 
 Boweth your nekke under the blisful yok 
 Of soveraintee, and not of servise, 
 Which that men clepen spousaile or wedlok : 
 And thinketh, lord, among your thoughtes wise, 
 How that our dayes passe in sondry wise ; 
 For though we slepe, or wake, or rome, or ride, 
 Ay fleth the time, it wol no man abide. 
 
 And though your grene youthe floure as yet 
 In crepeth age alway as still as ston, 
 And deth manaseth'^ every age, and smit 
 In eche estat, for ther escapeth non : 
 And al so certain, as we knowe eche on 
 That we shul die, as uncertain we all 
 Ben of that day whan deth shal on us fall. 
 
 Accepteth than of us the trewe entent, 
 That never yet refuseden your hest, 
 And we wol, lord, ii that ye wol assent, 
 Chese you a wife in short time at the mest, 
 Borne of the gentillest and of the best 
 Of all this lond, so that it oughte seme 
 Honour to God and you, as we can deme. 
 
 Deliver us out of all this besy drede, 
 And take a wif, for highe Goddes sake : 
 For if it so befell, as God forbede. 
 That thurgh your deth your linage shulde slake,^ 
 And that a strange successour shuld take 
 Your heritage, o ! wo were us on live : 
 "VYherfore we pray you hastily to wive. 
 
 Hir meke praiere and hir pitous chero 
 Made the markis for to han pitee. 
 Ye wol, quod he, min owen peple dere, 
 
 * Were willing. 2 Menaceth, threateneth. 3 Slacken, faiL 
 
220 THE CANTEKBURY TALES, 8020-S05I 
 
 To that I never er thought constrainen me. 
 I me rejoyced of my libertee, 
 That selden^ time is found in mariage ; 
 Ther I was free, I moste ben in servage. 
 
 But natheles I see your trewe entent, 
 And trust upon your wit, and have don ay: 
 Wherfore of my free will I wol assent 
 To wedden me, as sone as ever I may. 
 But ther as ye han profred me to-day 
 To chesen me a wif, I you relese 
 That chois, and pray you of that profer cese. 
 
 For God it wot, that children often hen 
 Unlike hir worthy eldres hem before, 
 Bountee cometh al of God, not of the stren/ 
 01 which they ben ygendred and ybore : 
 I trust in Goddes bountee, and thertoro 
 My mariage, and min estat, and rest 
 I him betake, he may don as him lest. 
 
 Let me alone in chesing of my wif. 
 That charge upon my bak I wol endure: 
 But I you pray, and charge iipon your lif. 
 That what wif that I take, ye me assure 
 To worship hire while that hire lif may dure, 
 In word and werk both here and elles where, 
 As she an emperoures doughter were. 
 
 And forthermore this shuln ye swere, that ya 
 Again my chois shul never grutch ne strive. 
 For sith I shal forgo my libertee 
 At your request, as ever mote I thrive, 
 Ther as min herte is set, ther wol I wive : 
 And but ye wol assent in swiche manere, 
 I pray you speke no more of this matere. 
 
 With hertly will they sworen and assenten 
 To all this thing, ther saide not o wight nay: 
 Beseching him of grace, or^ that they wenten. 
 That he v/old granten hem a certain day 
 Of his spousaile, as sone as ever he may, 
 For yet alway the peple somwhat dred, 
 Lest that this markis wolde no wii wed. 
 
 » Seldom. 2 stock. 3 BefoM. 
 
8059-8093. THE CLEEKES TALE.' 221 
 
 He granted hem a day, swiclie as him lest. 
 On which he wold be wedded sikerly, 
 And said he did all this at hir request ; 
 And they with humble herte ful buxumly 
 EJaeling upon hir knees ful reverently 
 Him thonken all, and thus they han an end 
 Of hir entente, and home agen they wend. 
 
 And hereupon he to his officeres 
 Commandeth for the feste to purvay. 
 And to his privee knightes and squieres 
 Swiche charge he yave, as him list on hem lay: 
 And they to his commandement obey. 
 And eche of hem doth al his diligence 
 To do unto the feste al reverence. 
 
 PARS SECUNDA. 
 
 Nought fer fro^ thilke paleis honourable, 
 "Wher as this markis shope his mariage, 
 Ther stood a thorpe," oi sighte delitable, 
 In which that pom^e folk of that village 
 Hadden hir bestes and hir herbergage. 
 And of hir labour toke hir sustenance, 
 After that the erthe yave hem habundance. 
 
 Among this poure folk ther dwelt a man, 
 Which that was holden pourest of hem all: 
 But highe God somtime senden can 
 His grace unto a litel oxes stall: 
 Janicola men of that thorpe him call. 
 A doughter had he, faire ynough to sight. 
 And Grisildis this yonge maiden hight. 
 
 But for to speke of vertuous beautee, 
 Than was she on the fairest under sonne: 
 Ful pourely yfostred up was she : 
 No likerous lust was in hire herte yronne; 
 Wei ofter of the well than of the tonne 
 She dranke, and for she wolde vertue plese. 
 She knew wel labour, but non idel ese. 
 
 1 Not far from. 2 vUlage. 
 
222 THE CANTEEBURY TALES. 8094-8131. 
 
 But tliougli this mayden tenclre were of age, 
 Yet in the brest of hire virginitee 
 Ther was enclosed sad and ripe corage: 
 And in gret reverence and charitee 
 Hire olde ponre fader fostred she : 
 A few sheep spinning on the feld she kept, 
 She wolde not ben idel til she slept. 
 
 And whan she homward came, she wolde bring 
 Wortes and other herbes times oft^ 
 The which she shred and sethe^ for hire living, 
 And made hire bed ful hard^ and nothing soft; 
 And ay she kept hire fadres lif on loft^ 
 With every obeisance and diligence, 
 That child may don to fadres reverence. 
 
 Upon Grisilde, this poure creature, 
 Ful often sithe this markis sette his eye, 
 As he on hunting rode paraventure : 
 And whan it fell that he might hire espie, 
 He not with wanton loking of folie 
 His eyen cast on hire, but in sad wise 
 Upon hire chere he wold him oft avise. 
 
 Commending in his herte hire womanhede. 
 And eke hire vertue, passing any wight 
 Of so yong age, as wel in chere as dede. 
 For though the peple have no gret insight 
 In vertue, he considered ful right 
 Hire bountee,^ and disposed that he wold 
 Wedde hire only, if ever he wedden shold. 
 
 The day of wedding came, but no wight can 
 Tellen what woman that it shulde be, 
 For which mervaille wondred many a man, 
 And saiden, whan they were in privetee, 
 Wol not our lord yet leve his vanitee ? 
 "Wol he not wedde ? alas, alas the while ! 
 Why wol he thus himself and us begile ? 
 
 But natheles this markis hath do make* 
 Of gemmes, sette in gold and in asure, 
 Broches and ringes, for Grisildes sake, 
 
 * Boiled. 2 Kept it up, supported it. 
 
 8 Goodness. * Caused to be made. 
 
8132-S170. THE CLERKES TALE. 223 
 
 And of hire clotliing toke he the mesure 
 Of a maiden like unto hire stature, 
 And eke of other ornamentes all, 
 That unto swiche a wedding shulde fall. 
 
 The time of underne^ of the same day 
 Approcheth, that this wedding shulde be, 
 And all the paleis put was in array, 
 Both halle and chambres, eche in his degree, 
 Houses of office stuffi^d with plentee 
 Ther ma3'-st thou see of deinteous vitaille, 
 That may be found, as fer as lasteth Itaille. 
 
 This reap markis richely arraide, 
 Lordes and ladies in his compagnie, 
 The which unto the feste weren praide,3 
 And of his retenue the bachelerie, 
 "With many a soun of sondry melodie, 
 Unto the village, of the which I told, 
 In this array the righte way they hold. 
 
 Grisilde of this (God wot) ful innocent, 
 That for hire shapen was all this array. 
 To fetchen water at a welle is went, 
 And cometh home as sone as ever she may. 
 For wel she had herd say, that thilke day 
 The markis shulde wedde, and, if she might. 
 She wolde fayn han seen som of that sight. 
 
 She thought, I wol with other maidens stond. 
 That ben my felawes, in our dore, and see 
 The markisesse, and therto wol I fond^ 
 To don at home, as sone as it may be. 
 The labour which that longeth unto me, 
 And than I may at leiser hire behold, 
 If she this way unto the castel hold. 
 
 And as she wolde over the threswold gon. 
 The markis came and gan hire for to call, 
 And she set doun hire water-pot anon 
 Beside the threswold in an oxes stall, 
 And doun upon hire knees she gan to fall, 
 And with sad countenance kneleth still, 
 Til she had herd what was the lordes will. 
 
 * The third hour, i.e., nine o'clock. 2 uoyal. 
 
 3 Invited. 4 Contrive. 
 
224 THE ca:nterbury tales. 81 71-8208*. 
 
 This thouglitful mar^kis spake imto this maid 
 Ful soberly^ and said in this manere; 
 Wher is your lader^ Grisildis? he said. 
 And she with reverence in humble chere 
 Answered, lord, he is al redy here. 
 And in she goth withouten lenger lette/ 
 And to the markis she hu-e iader fette.^ 
 
 He by the bond than toke this poiire man, 
 And- saide thus, whan he him had aside : 
 Janieola, I neither may ne can 
 Lenger the plesance of min herte hide, 
 If that thou vouchesauf, what so betide, 
 Thy doughter wol I take or that I wend 
 As for my wif^ unto hire lives end. 
 
 Thou lovest me, that wot I wel certain. 
 And art my faithful liegeman ybore, 
 And all that liketh me, I dare wel sain 
 It liketh thee, and specially therfore 
 Tell me that point, that I have said before, 
 If that thou wolt unto this purpos drawe. 
 To taken me as for thy son in lawe. 
 
 This soden cas this man astoned so, 
 That red he wex, abaist,^ and al quaking 
 He stood, umiethes said he wordes mo, 
 But only thus; Lord, quod he, my willing 
 Is as ye wol, ne ageins your liking 
 I wol no thing, min owen lord so dere. 
 Bight as you list, governeth^ this matere. 
 
 Than wol I, quod this markis softely, 
 That in thy chambre, I, and thou, and she, 
 Have a collation, and wost thou why? 
 For I wol ask hire, if it hire wille be 
 To be my wif, and reule^ hire after me : 
 And all this shal be don in thy presence, 
 I wol not speke out of thin audience. 
 
 And in the chambre, while they were aboute 
 The tretee, which as ye shul after here, 
 The peple came into the hous withoute, 
 
 * Longer delay. " Fetched. 3 Abashed. 
 
 * Govern, settle. * Eule 
 
83i7. THE CLERKES TALE. 225 
 
 And ■wondred hem, in how honest manere 
 Ententifly she kept hne fader dere : 
 But utterly Grisildis wonder might, 
 Tor never erst ne saw she swiche a sight. 
 
 No wonder is though that she be astoned, 
 To see so gret a gest come in that place, 
 She never was to non swiche gestes woned,* 
 For which she loked with ful pale face. 
 But shortly forth this matere for to chace, 
 Thise am the wordes that the markis said 
 To this benigne, veray,^ faithful maid. 
 
 Grisilde, he said, ye shuln wel uuderstond, 
 It liketh to your fader and to me, 
 That I you wedde, and eke it may so stond 
 As I suppose, ye wol that it so be : 
 But thise demaundes aske I first (quod he) 
 That sin it shal be don in hasty wise, 
 "Wol ye assent, or elles you avise ] 
 
 I say this, be ye redy with good herte 
 To all my lust, and that I freely may 
 As me best thinketh do you laugh or smerte, 
 And never ye to grutchen, night ne day, 
 And eke whan I say ya, ye say not nay, 
 Neither by word, ne frouning countenance ? 
 Swere this, and here I swere our alliance. 
 
 "Wondring upon this thing, quaking for drede, 
 She saide ; Lord, indigne and unworthy 
 Am I, to thilke honour, that ye me bede,^ 
 But as ye wol yourself, right so wol I : 
 And here I swere, that never willingly 
 In werk, ne thought, I n'ill you disobeie 
 For to be ded, though me were loth to deie. 
 
 This is ynough, Grisilde min, quod he. 
 And forth he goth with a ful sobre chere, 
 Out at the dore, and after than came she, 
 And to the peple he said in this manere : 
 This is my wif, quod he, that stondeth here. 
 Honoureth her, and loveth hire, I pray. 
 Who so me loveth, ther n'is no more to say. 
 
226 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 8248-8282. 
 
 And for that notliing of hire olde gere 
 She shulde bring into his hous, he bad 
 That women shuld despoilen hire right there, 
 Of which thise ladies weren nothing glad 
 To handle hire clothes wherin she was clad : 
 But natheles this maiden bright of hew 
 Fro foot to hed they clothed han all new. 
 
 Hire heres han they kempt, that lay nntresscd 
 Fill rudely, and with hir fingres smal 
 A coroune on hire hed they han ydressed, 
 And sette hire ful of nouches^ gret and smal : 
 Of hire array what shuld I make a tale 1 
 Unneth the pej^le hire knew for hire fairness e, 
 Whan she transmewed" was in swiche richesse. 
 
 This markis hath hire spoused with a ring 
 Brought for the same cause, and than hire setta 
 Upon an hors snow-white, and wel ambling, 
 And to his paleis, or he lenger lette,^ 
 (With joyful pejole, that hire lad and mette) 
 Conveyed hire, and thus the day they spende 
 In revel, til the sonne gan descende. 
 
 And shortly forth this tale for to chace, 
 I say, that to this newe markisesse 
 God hath swiche favour sent hire of his grace. 
 That it ne semeth not by likelinesse^ 
 That she was borne and fed in rude nesse, 
 As in a cote, or in an oxes stall. 
 But nourished in an emperoures hall. 
 
 To every wight she waxen is so dere, 
 And worshipful, that folk ther^ she was bore, 
 And fro hire birthe knew hire yere by yere, 
 TJnnethes^ trovv^ed they, but dorst han swore, 
 That to Janicle, of which I spake before, 
 She doughter n'as,^ for as by conjecture 
 Hem thoughte she was another creature. 
 
 ' Ouches. 2 Changed. 
 
 3 Without havhig delayed longer. 
 
 * Not probable, or, not by chance. 
 
 5 Who lived where. 6 Scarcely. 7 Was not. 
 
8283-8320. THE CLERKES TALE. 227 
 
 For though, that ever vertuous was she, 
 She was encresed in swiche excellence 
 Of thewes^ goocl? yset in high boimtee, 
 And so discrete, and faire of eloquence, 
 So benigne, and so digne of reverence, 
 And coude so the pepies herte enbrace, 
 That eche hke loveth that loketh on hire face. 
 
 Not only of Saluces in the toun 
 Published was the bountee of hire name. 
 But eke beside in many a regioun, 
 If on saith wel, another saith the same : 
 So spredeth of hire hie bountee the fame, 
 That men and women, yong as wel as old, 
 Gon to Saluces upon hire to behold. 
 
 Thus "Walter lowly, nay but really,^ 
 Wedded with fortunat honestetee, 
 In Goddes pees liveth ful esily 
 At home, and grace ynough outward had ho : 
 And for he saw that under low degree 
 Was honest vertue hid, the peple him held 
 A prudent man, and that is seen ful seld. 
 
 Not only this Grisildis thurgh hke wit 
 Coude all the fete of wifly homlinesse, 
 But eke whan that the cas required it, 
 The eomune profit coude she redresse : 
 Ther n'as discord, rancour, ne hevinesse 
 In all the lond, that she ne coude appese, 
 And wisely bring hem all in hertes ese. 
 
 Though that hire husbond absent were or no 
 If gentilmen, or other of that contree 
 Were wroth, she wolde bringen hem at on, 
 So wise and ripe wordes haclde she, 
 And jugement of so gret equitee. 
 That she from heven sent was, as men vv^end, 
 Peple to save, and every wrong to amend. 
 
 Not longe time after that this Grisilde 
 Was wedded, she a doughter hath ybore. 
 All had hire lever han borne a knave child: 
 
 1 Manners. 2 Eoyallj. 
 
 20 
 
228 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 8321-8355- 
 
 Glad was the markis and Ms folk therfore, 
 For though a maiden childe come all before, 
 She may unto a knave child atteine 
 By likelyhed, sin she n'is not barreine. 
 
 PARS TERTIA. 
 
 Ther fell, as it befalleth times mo, 
 Whan that this childe had souked but a throwej^ 
 This markis in his herte longed so 
 To tempt his wif, hire sadnesse for to knowe, 
 That he ne might out of his herte throwe 
 This marveillous desir his wif to assay. 
 Needles, God wot^ he thought hu-e to affray. 
 
 He had assaied hire ynough before. 
 And found hire ever good, what nedeth it 
 Hire for to tempt, and alway more and more ? 
 Though som men praise it for a subtil wit, 
 But as for me, I say that evil it sit 
 To assay a wif whan that it is no nede, 
 And putten hire in anguish and in drede. 
 
 Tor which this markis wrought in this mancre ; 
 He came a-night alone ther as she lay 
 With Sterne face, and with ful trouble chere, 
 And sayde thus : Grisilde, (quod he) that day 
 That I you toke out of your poure array, 
 And put you in estat of high noblesse, 
 Ye han it not forgotten, as I gesse. 
 
 I say, Grisilde, this present dignitee. 
 In which that I have put you, as I trow, 
 Maketh you not forgetful for to be 
 That I you toke in poure estat ful low, 
 For ony wele ye mote yourselven know. 
 Take hede of every word that I ypu say, 
 Ther is no wight that hereth it but we tvfay. 
 
 Ye wote yourself wel how that ye came here 
 Into this hous, it is not long ago, 
 And though to me ye be right iefe and dere, 
 
 1 A little while. 
 
S-S394. THE CLERKES TALE. 22d 
 
 Unto my gentils ye be nothing so : 
 They say, to hem it is gret shame and wo 
 For to be suggetes, and ben in servage 
 To thee, that borne art of a smal linage. 
 
 And namely sin thy donghter was ybore, 
 Thise wordes han they spoken douteles, 
 But I desire, as I have don before. 
 To live my lif with hem in rest and pees : 
 I may not in this cas be reccheles ; 
 I mote do with thy doughter for the best, 
 Not as I wold, but as my gentils lest. 
 
 And yet, God wote, this is ful loth to me: 
 But natheles withouten youre weting^ 
 I wol nought do, but thus wol I (quod he) 
 That ye to me assenten in this thing. 
 Shew now youre patience in youre werking, 
 That ye me hight and swore in youre village 
 The day that maked was our mariage. 
 
 Whan she had herd all this, she not ameved'^ 
 Neyther in word, in chere, ne countenance, 
 (For as it semed, she was not agreved) 
 She sayde : Lord, all lith in your plesance, 
 My child and I, with hertely obeisance 
 Ben youres all, and ye may save or spill, 
 Your owen thing : werketh after your wilL 
 
 Ther may no thing, so God my soule save. 
 Like unto you, that may displesen me : 
 Ne I desire nothing for to have, 
 Ne drede for to lese, sauf only ye : 
 This will is in myn herte, and ay shal be, 
 No length of time, or deth may this deface, 
 Ne change my corage to an other place. 
 
 Glad was this markis for hire answering. 
 But yet he feined as he were not so, 
 Al drery was his chere and his loking, 
 Whan that he shuld out of the chambre go. 
 Sone after this, a furlong way or two, 
 He prively hath told all his entent 
 Unto a man, and to his wif him sent. 
 
230 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 8395-84<32. 
 
 A maner sergeant was this prive man, 
 The which he faithful often fonnden had 
 In thinges gret, and eke swiche folk wel can 
 Don execution on thinges bad : 
 The lord knew wel, that he him loved and diad. 
 And whan this sergeant wist his lordes will, 
 Into the chambre he stalked him ful still. 
 
 Madame, he sayd, ye mote foryeve it me, 
 Though I do thing, to which I am constreiucd : 
 Ye ben so wise, that right wel knowen ye, 
 That lordes hestes may not ben yfeined,^ 
 They may wel be bewailed and complained, 
 But men mote nedes to hir lust obey. 
 And so wol I, ther n'is no more to say. 
 
 This child I am commanded for to take. 
 And spake no more, but out the child he hent 
 Despitously, and gan a chere to make," 
 As though he wold have slain it, or he went. 
 Grisildis most al suffer and al consent : 
 And as a lambe, she sitteth meke and still, 
 And let this cruel sergeant do his will. 
 
 Suspecious was the diffame of this man. 
 Suspect his face, suspect his word also, 
 Suspect the time in which he this began: 
 Alas ! hire doughter, that she loved so. 
 She wende he wold han slaien it right tho. 
 But nathdles she neither w;ept ne siked. 
 Conforming like to that the markis liked. 
 
 But at the last to speken she began, 
 And mekely she to the sergeant praid 
 (So as he was a worthy gentil man) 
 That she might kisse hire child, or that it deid: 
 And in hire barme^ this litel child she leid, 
 With ful sad face, and gan the child to bliss o. 
 And lulled it, and after gan it kisse. 
 
 And thus she sayd in hire benigne vols i 
 Farewel, my child, I shal thee never see, 
 But sin I have thee marked with the crois, 
 
 1 Shirked, done with a feigned zeal only. 
 
 S To affect a manner. s "Lap, 
 
1433-8471. THE CLERKES TALE. 231 
 
 Of thilke fader j^blessed mote thou be, 
 That for us died upon a crois of tree : 
 Thy soule, litel child, I him betake/ 
 For this night shalt thou dien for my sake. 
 
 I trow that to a norice- in this cas^ 
 It had ben hard this routhe for to see : 
 "VVel might a moder than han cried alas, 
 But natlieles so sad stedfast was she, 
 That she endured all adversitee, 
 And to the sergeant mekely she sayde, 
 Have here agen your litel yonge mayde. 
 
 Goth now (quod she) and doth my lordes hest: 
 And thing wold I pray you of your grace. 
 But if my lord forbade you at the lest, 
 Burieth this litel body in som place. 
 That bestes ne no briddes it to-race. 
 But he no word to that purpos wold say, 
 But toke the child and went upon his way. 
 
 This sergeant came tmto his lord again, 
 And of Grisildes wordes and hire chere 
 He told him point tor point, in short and plain. 
 And him presented with his doughter dere. 
 Somwhat this lord hath routhe in his manere. 
 But natheles his purpos held he still. 
 As lordes don, whan they wol han hir will. 
 
 And bad this sergeant that he prively 
 Shulde this child ful softe wind and wrappe, 
 "With alle circumstances tendrely. 
 And carry it in a cofre,^ or in a lappe;-^ 
 But upon peine his hed of for to swappe^ 
 That no man shulde know of his entent, 
 Ne whens he came, ne whider that he went ; 
 
 But at Boloigne, unto his suster dere, 
 That thilke time of Pa vie was countesse. 
 He shuld it take, and shew hire this matere, 
 Beseching hu-e to don hire besinesse 
 This child to fostren in all gentillesse, 
 And whos child that it was he bade hire hide 
 From every wight, for ought that may betide. 
 
 1 Commend to him. 2 Nurse. 3 Matter. 
 
 * Chest. 5 The skirt of a garment. ^ Strike off. 
 
232 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 8472-8506* 
 
 This sergeant gotli, and liatli fulfilde tliis thing. 
 Bnt to this marquis now retorne we; 
 "For now goth he ful fast imagining, 
 If by his wives chere he mighte see, 
 Or by hire wordes apperceive, that she 
 Were changed, but he never coud hire finde, 
 But ever in on ylike sad and kinde. 
 
 As glad, as humble, as besy in service 
 And eke in love, as she was wont to be, 
 "Was she to him, in every maner wise ; 
 Ne of hire doughter not a word spake she : 
 Non accident for non adversitee 
 "Was seen in hire, ne never hire doughters name 
 Ne nevened' she, for ernest ne for game. 
 
 PARS QUARTA. 
 
 In this estat ther passed ben foure yere 
 Er she with childe was, but, as God wold, 
 A knave childe she bare by this Waltere 
 Ful gracious, and fair for to behold : 
 And whan that folk it to his fader told. 
 Not only he, but all his contree mery 
 Was for this childe, and God they thonke and hery.* 
 
 Whan it was two yere old, and from the brest 
 Departed of his norice-^, on a day 
 This markis caughte yet another lest* 
 To tempte his wif yet ofter, if he may. 
 O I nedeles was she tempted in assay. 
 But wedded men ne connen no mesure. 
 Whan that they finde a j)atient creature. 
 
 Wif, quod this markis, ye han herd or this 
 My peple sikely beren our mariage, 
 And namely sin my sone yboren is. 
 Now is it werse than ever in al our age : 
 The murmur sleth myn herte and my corage, 
 For to myn eres cometh the vois so smerte. 
 That it wel nie destroyed hath myn herte. 
 Named. 2 Praise. 3 Kurse. ^Desire. 
 
8507-S5M'. THE CLERKES TALE. 233 
 
 Now say tliey thus, whan Walter is agon, 
 Than shal the blood of Janicle succecle, 
 And ben our lord, for other han we non : 
 Swiche wordes sayn my peple, it is no drede,* 
 Wei ought I of SYfiehe murmur taken hede, 
 Por certainly I drede al swiche sentence. 
 Though they not plainen" in myn audience. 
 
 I wolde live in pees, if that I might: 
 Wherfore I am disj)osed utterly, 
 As I his suster served er by night, 
 Eight so tbinke I to serve him prively. 
 This warne I you, that ye not sodenly 
 Out of yourself for no wo shuld outraie,^ 
 Beth i)atieut, and therof I you praie. 
 
 I have, quod she, sayd thus and ever shal, 
 I wol no thing, ne n'ill no thing certaiu, 
 But as you list : not greveth me at al. 
 Though that my doughter and my sone be slain 
 At your commandement : that is to sain, 
 I have not had no part of children twein. 
 But first sikenesse, and after wo and peine. 
 
 Ye ben my lord, doth with your owen thing 
 Eight as you list, asketh no rede of me : 
 For as I left at home al my clothing 
 Whan I came first to you, right so (quod she) 
 Left I my will and al my libertee, 
 And toke your clothing : wherfore I you prey, 
 Doth your plesance, I wol joure lust obey. 
 
 And certes, if I hadde prescience 
 Tour will to know, er ye your lust me told, 
 I wold it do v/ithouten negligence : 
 But now I wote your lust, and what ye wold. 
 All your plesance ferme and stable I hold, 
 For wist I that my detli might do you ese, 
 Eight gladly wold I dien, you to plese. 
 
 Deth may not maken no comparisoun 
 Unto your love. And whan this markis say 
 The Constance of his wif, he cast adoun 
 * Doubt. 2 Complain. 3 ^ly out, display passion. 
 
234: THE CANTERBURY TALES. 8545-8583. 
 
 His eyen two, and wondreth how she may 
 In patience suffer al this array: 
 And forth he goth with drery contenance, 
 But to his herte it was ful gret plesance. 
 
 This ugly sergeant in the same wise 
 That he hire doughter caughte, right so he 
 (Or werse, if men can any werse devise) 
 Hath hent' hire sone, that ful was of Ibeautee: 
 And ever in on so patient was she. 
 That she no chere^ made of hevinesse, 
 But kist hire sone and after gan it blesse. 
 
 Save this she praied him, if that he might. 
 Hire litel sone he wold in erthe grave, 
 His tendre limmes, delicat to sight, 
 Fro foules and fro bestes for to save. 
 But she non answer oi him mighte have, 
 He went his way, as him no thing ne rou^ht. 
 But to Boloigne he tendrely it brought. 
 
 This markis wondreth ever lenger the mora 
 Upon hire patience, and if that he 
 Ne hadde sothly knowen therbefore, 
 That parfitly hire children loved she, 
 He wold han wend that of som subtiltee 
 And of malice, or for cruel corage, 
 That she had suffred this with sad visage. 
 
 But wel he knew, that next himself^ certain 
 She loved hire children best in every wise. 
 But now of women wold I asken fayn, 
 If thise assaies mighten not suffise ; 
 What coud a sturdy husbond more devise 
 To prove hire wifhood, and hire stedfastnesse^ 
 And he continuing ever in stui^dinesse? 
 
 But ther ben folk of swiche condition. 
 That, whan they han a certain purpos take, 
 They can not stint of hir intention. 
 But, right as they were bounden to a stake, 
 They wol not of hir firste purpos slake : 
 Hight so this markis fully hath purposed 
 To tempt his wif, as he was first disposed, 
 1 Taken. 2 show. 
 
8581-8621. THE CLEEKES TALE. 235 
 
 He waiteth, if by word or contenance 
 That she to him was changed of corage: 
 But never coiid he linden variance, 
 She was ay on in herte and in visage, 
 And ay the furtlier that she was in age, 
 Tlie more trewe (if that it were possible) 
 She was to him in love, and more penible.* 
 
 For which it semed thus, that of hem two 
 Ther was but o will ; for as "Walter lest. 
 The same lust was hire plesance also ; 
 And God be thanked, all fell for the best. 
 She shewed wel, for no worldly unrest 
 A wif, as of hireself, no thing ne sholdo 
 Wille in effect, but as hire husbond wolde. 
 
 The sclandre" of "Walter wonder wide spradde. 
 That of a cruel herte he wikkedly, 
 For he a poure woman wedded hadde, 
 Hath murdred both his children prively: 
 Swich murmur was among hem comunly. 
 No wonder is : for to the peples ere 
 Ther came no word, but that they murdred were. 
 
 For which ther as his peple therbefore 
 Had loved him wel, the sclandre of his diffame 
 Made hem that they him hate den ther fore : 
 To ben a murdrour is an hateful name^ 
 But natheles, for ernest ne for game, 
 He of his cruel purpos n'olde stente, 
 To tempt his wif was sette all his entente. 
 
 Whan that his doughter twelf yere was of age. 
 He to the court of Eome, in subtil wise 
 Enformed of his will, sent his message, 
 Commanding him, swiche billes to devise. 
 As to his cruel purpos may suffise, 
 How that the pope, as for his peples rest, 
 Bade him to wed another, if him lest. 
 
 I say he bade, they shulden contrefeta 
 The popes bulles, making mention 
 That he hath leve his firste wif to lete, 
 
 1 Painstaking. 2 Slander. 
 
236 THE CANTERBUEY TALES. 8623-8G60. 
 
 As by the popes dispensation, 
 
 To stinten rancour and dissension 
 
 Betwix his peple and him : thus spake the bull. 
 
 The which they han publisshed at the lull. 
 
 The rude peple, as no wonder is, 
 "Wenden ful wel, that it had ben right so : 
 But whan thise tidings came to Grisildis, 
 I deme that hu-e herte was ful of avo ; 
 But she ylike sad for evermo 
 Disposed was, this humble creature. 
 The adversitee oi fortune al to endure ; 
 
 Abiding ever his lust and his i^lesance, 
 To whom that she was yeven, herte and al, . 
 As to hire veray worldly suffisance. 
 But shortly if this storie tell I shal, 
 This markis writen hath in special 
 A lettre, in which he sheweth his entente. 
 And secretly he to Boloigne it sente, 
 
 To the erl of Pavie, which that hadde tho 
 Wedded his suster, prayed he specially 
 To bringen home agein his children two 
 In honourable estat al openly : 
 But o thing he him prayed utterly, 
 That he to no wight, though men wold enquere, 
 Shulde not tell whos children that they were. 
 
 But say, the maiden shuld ywedded be 
 Unto the markis of Saluce;^^ anon. 
 And as this erl was jDrayed, so did he, 
 For at day sette he on his Y/ay is gon 
 Toward Saluces, and lordes many on 
 In rich arraie, this maiden for to gide, 
 Hire yonge brother riding hire beside. 
 
 Arraied was toward hire mariage 
 This fresshe maiden, ful of gemmes clere, 
 Hu-e brother, which that seven yere was of age, 
 Arraied eke ful fresh in his manere : 
 And thus in gret noblesse and with glad chere 
 Toward Saluces shaping hir journay 
 Fro day to day they riden in hir way. 
 
THE CLERKES TALE. 237 
 
 PARS QUIKTA. 
 
 Among al this, after his wicked usage, 
 This markis yet his wif to tempten more 
 To the uttereste prefe of hire corage, 
 Fully to have experience and lore, 
 If that she were as stedeiast as before, 
 He on a day in open audience 
 Ful boistously hath said hire this sentence i 
 
 Certes, Grisilde, I had ynough plesance 
 To han you to my wif^ for your goodnesse, 
 And for your trouthe^ and for your oheysance, 
 Not for your linage, ne for your richesse, 
 But now know I in veray sothfastnesse/ 
 That in gret lordship, if I me wel avise, 
 Ther is gret servitude in sondry wise. 
 
 I may not don, as every ploughman may: 
 My peple me constreineth for to take 
 Another wif, and crien day by day ; 
 And eke the pope rancour for to slake^ 
 Consenteth it, that dare I undertake: 
 And trewely, thus moche I wol you say, 
 My newe wif is coming by the way. 
 
 Be strong of herte, and voide^ anon hire place, 
 And thilke dower that ye broughten me 
 Take it agen, I grant it of my grace, 
 Keturneth to your fadres hous, (quod he) 
 No man may alway have prosperiteco 
 With even herte I rede"^ you to endure 
 The stroke of fortune, or of aventure. 
 
 And she agen answer d in patience: 
 My lord, quod she, I wote, and wist alway. 
 How that betwixen your magnificence 
 And my poverte no wight ne can ne may 
 Maken comparison, it is no nay ; 
 I ne held me never digne in no manere 
 To be yom^ wif, ne yet your chamberere.^ 
 
 » Truth. 2 Allay. 
 
 ' Give up, 4 Advise. 5 chamber maid. 
 
238 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 8C96-8733. 
 
 And in this lioiis, tlier ye me lady made, 
 (The highe God take I for my witnesse, 
 And all so wisly^ he my sonle glad) 
 I never held me lady ne maistresse, 
 But humble servant to your worthinesse, 
 And ever shal, while that my lif may dm^e, 
 Aboven every worldly creature. 
 
 That ye so longe of your benignitee 
 Han holden me in honour and nobley, 
 Wheras I was not worthy for to be, 
 That thanke I God and you, to whom I prey 
 Foryelde^ it you, ther is no more to sey: 
 Unto my fader gladly wol I wende, 
 And with him dwell unto my lives ende ; 
 
 Ther I was fostred of a childe ful smal, 
 Til I be ded my lif ther wol I lede, 
 A widew clene in body, herte and al. 
 For sith I yave to you my maidenhede, 
 And am your trewe wif, it is no drede, 
 God shilde swiche a lordes wit to take 
 Another man to husbond or to make. 
 
 And of your newe wif, God of his grace 
 So graunte you wele and prosjDerite : 
 For I wol gladly yelden hire my place, 
 In which that I was blisful wont to be. 
 For sith it liketh you, my lord, (quod she) 
 That whilom weren all myn hertes rest, 
 That I shal gon, I wol go whan you lest. 
 
 But ther as ye me profre swiche dowaire 
 As I first brought, it is wel in my mind, 
 It were my wretched clothes, nothing faire, 
 The which to me were hard now for to find. 
 O goode God! how gentil and how kind 
 Ye semed by your speche and your visage, 
 The day that maked was oure marriage ! 
 
 But soth is said, algate I find it trewe, 
 For in effect it preved is on me, 
 Love is not old, as whan that it is newe. 
 
 1 Certainly, truly. 2 Kepay. 
 
8734-8773. THE CLEEKES TALE. 239 
 
 But certes, lord, for non adversitee^ 
 To dien in this cas, it slial not be 
 That ever in word or werke I shal repent, 
 That I you yave min herte in hole entent. 
 
 My lord, ye wote, that in my fadres place 
 Ye elide me stripe out of my poure wede, 
 And richely ye clad me of your grace ; 
 To you brought I nought elles out of drede, 
 But faith, and nakednesse, and maidenhede ; 
 And here agen your clothing I restore, 
 And eke your wedding ring for evermore. 
 
 The remenant of your jeweles redy be 
 Within your chambre, I dare it safly sain; 
 Naked out of my fadres hous (quod she) 
 I came, and naked I mote turne again. 
 All your plesance wolde I folwe fain : 
 But yet I hope it be not your entent. 
 That I smokies out of your paleis went. 
 
 Ye coude not do so dishonest a thing, 
 That thilke wombe, in which your children lay, 
 Shulde before the peple, in my walking, 
 Be seen al bare : wherfore I you pray 
 Let me not like a worme go by the way : 
 Eemembre you, min owen lord so dere, 
 I was your wif, though I unworthy were. 
 
 Wherfore in guerdon of my maidenhede. 
 Which that I brought and not agen I bere, 
 As vouchesauf to yeve me to my mede 
 But swiche a smok as I was wont to were, 
 That I therwith may wrie" the wombe of hire 
 That was your wif: and here I take my leve 
 Of you, min owen lord, lest I you greve. 
 
 The smok, quod he, that thou hast on thy bake, 
 Let it be still, and bere it forth with thee. 
 But wel unnethes^ thilke word he spake, 
 But went his way for routhe and for pitee. 
 Before the folk hireselven stripeth she, 
 And in hire smok, with foot and hed al bare, 
 Toward hire fadres hous forth is she fare. 
 
 ' For it were no adversity. 
 
 2 Cover. 3 Eight uneasily. 
 
 , 
 
240 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 8773-8810. 
 
 The folk hire folwen weping in hir wey, 
 And fortune ay they cursen as they gon : 
 But she fro weping kept hire eyen drey, 
 Ne in this time word ne spake she non. 
 Hire fader, that this tiding herd anon, 
 Curseth the day and time, that nature 
 Shope him to ben a lives creature. 
 
 For out of doute this olde poure man 
 Was ever in susjoect of hire mariage : 
 For ever he demed, sin it first began, 
 That whan the lord fulfilled had his corago, 
 Him wolde thinke it were a disparage 
 To his estat, so lowe for to alight, 
 And voiden hire as sone as ever he might. 
 
 Agein his doughter hastily goth he, 
 (For he by noise of folk knew hire coming) 
 And with hire olde cote, as it might be, 
 He covereth hire ful sorwefuUy weping: 
 But on hire body might he it not bring, 
 For rude was the cloth, and more oi age 
 By dales fele^ than at hire mariage. 
 
 Thus with hire fader for a certain space 
 Dwelleth this flour of wifly^ patience, 
 That nother by hire wordes ne hire face, 
 Beforn the folk, ne eke in hir absence, 
 Ne shewed she that hire was don offence, 
 Ne of hire high estat no remembrance 
 Ne hadde she, as by hire contenance. 
 
 No wonder is, for in hire gret estat 
 Hire gost was ever in xoleine humilitee; 
 No tendre mouth, no herte delicat. 
 No pompe, no semblant of realtee ; 
 But ful of patient benignitee. 
 Discrete, and prideles, ay honourable, 
 And to hire husbond ever meke and stable. 
 
 Men speke of Job, and most for his humblesse, 
 As clerkes, whan hem list, can wel endite, 
 Namely of men, but as in sothfastnesse, 
 1 Many. 2 True. 
 
8811-8845. THE CLERKES TALE. 24:1 
 
 Thoiigli clerkes preisen women but a lite, 
 Ther can no man in humblesse liim acquite 
 As woman can, ne can be half so trewe 
 As women ben, but it be falle of newe. 
 
 PARS SEXTA. 
 
 Fro Boloigne is tliis eii of Pavie come, 
 Of wliich the fame up sprang to more and lesse : 
 And to the peples eres all and some 
 Was couth^ eke, that a newe markisesse 
 He with him brought, in swiche pomp and richessaj 
 That never was ther seen with mannes eye 
 So noble array in al West Lumbardie. 
 
 The markis, which that shoj)e^ and knew all this, 
 Er that this erl was come, sent his message 
 For thilke poure sely Grisildis ; 
 And she with humble herte and glad visage, 
 Not with no swollen thought in hire corage. 
 Came at his hest, and on hu-e knees hire sette. 
 And reverently and wisely she him grette. 
 
 Grisilde, (quod he) my will is utterly, 
 This maiden, that shal wedded be to me, 
 Beceived be to-morwe as really 
 As it possible is in myn hous to be : 
 And eke that every wight in his degrea 
 Have his estat in sitting and service. 
 And high plesance, as I can best devise. 
 
 I have no woman suffisant certain 
 The chambres for to array in ordinance 
 After my lust, and therfore wolde I fain, 
 That thin were all swiche manere governance: 
 Thou knowest eke of old all my plesance ; 
 Though thin array be bad, and evil 1 
 Do thou thy devoir at the leste wey. 
 
 Not only, lord, that I am glad (quod she) 
 To don your lust, but I desire also 
 You for to serve and plese in my degree, 
 
 1 Known. 2 Shaped, devised. 
 
242 THE CAi^^TERBURY TALES. 8846-8880. 
 
 "Withouten fainting, and shal evermo : 
 Ne never for no wele, ne for no wo, 
 Ne shal the gost within myn herte stente 
 To love you best with all my trewe entente. 
 
 And with that word she gan the hous to dight/ 
 And tables for to sette, and beddes make, 
 And peined hire to don all that she might, 
 Praying the chambereres for Goddes sake 
 To hasten hem, and faste swepe and shake, 
 And she the moste serviceable of all 
 Hath every chambre arraied, and his hall. 
 
 Abouten iindern^ gan this erl alight, 
 That with him brought thise noble children twey; 
 For which the peple ran to see the sight 
 Of hu" array, so richely besey : 
 And than at erst amonges hem they sey, 
 That Walter was no fool, though that him lest 
 To change his wif ; for it was for the best. 
 
 For she is fairer, as they demen all, 
 Than is Grisilde, and more tendre of age, 
 And fairer fruit betwene hem shulde fall, 
 And more plesant for hire high linage : 
 Hire brother eke so faire was of visage, 
 That hem to seen the peple hath caught plesanoe, 
 Commending now the markis governance, 
 
 O stormy peple, unsad and ever untrewe. 
 And undiscrete, and changing as a fane,^ 
 Delighting ever in rombel^ that is newe. 
 For like the mone waxen ye and wane : 
 Ay ful of clai)ping, dere ynough a jane,^ 
 Your dome" is fals, your Constance evil preveth, 
 A ful gret fool is he that on you leveth.^ 
 
 Thus saiden sade folk in that citee, 
 Whan that the peple gased up and doun: 
 For they were glad, right for the noveltee, 
 
 1 Decorate. 2 Nine o'clock. 3 yane, weathercock. 
 
 4 Rumour, 5 a small coin, properly of Janua, i. e., Genoa. 
 
 8 Judgment. 7 Believeth. 
 
88SI-S015. THE CLERKES TALE. ■ 243 
 
 To liave a newe lady of liir touii. 
 No more of this make I now mentioun, 
 But to Grisilde agen I wol me dresse, 
 And telle hire Constance, and hire besinesse. 
 
 Fill besy was Grisilde in every thing, 
 That to the feste was appertinent ; 
 Eight naught was she abaist^ of hire clothing, 
 Though it were rude, and somdel eke to-rent. 
 But with glad chere to the yate- is went 
 With other folk, to grete the markisesse, 
 And after that doth forth hire besinesse. 
 
 With so glad chere his gestes she receiveth. 
 And conningly everich in his degree, 
 That no defaute no man apperceiveth, 
 But ay they wondren what she mighte be, 
 That in so poure array was for to see, 
 And coude""* swiche honour and reverence, 
 And worthily they preisen hire prudence. 
 
 In all this mene while she ne stent 
 This maide and eke hire brother to commend 
 With all hire herte in ful benigue entent. 
 So wel, that no man coud hire preise amend? 
 But at the last whan that thise lordes wend 
 To sitten doun to mete, he gan to call 
 Grisilde, as she was besy in the hall, 
 
 Grisilde, (quod he, as it were in his pl'dj) 
 How liketh thee my wif, and hire beautee ? 
 Eight wel, my lord, quod she, for in good fay, 
 A fairer saw I never non than she : 
 I pray to God yeve you prosperitee ; 
 And so I hope, that he wol to you send 
 Plesance ynough unto your lives end. 
 
 O thing beseche I you and warne also, 
 That ye ne prikke with no turmenting 
 This tendre maiden as ye han do mo ;■* 
 
 1 Ashamed. 2 Gate* 
 
 3 Understood. ■* Me. 
 
24:4 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 8916-895 
 
 For she is fostred in liire norisliing 
 More tendrely, and to my supposing 
 She mighte not adversitee endure, 
 As coude a poure^ fostred creature. 
 
 And whan this Walter saw hire patience, 
 Hire glade chere, and no malice at all, 
 And he so often hadde hire don offence, 
 And she ay sade and constant as a wall, 
 Continuing ever hire innocence over all, 
 This sturdy markis gan his herte dresse 
 To rewe^ upon hire wifly stedefastnesse. 
 
 This is ynough, Grisilde min, quod he, 
 Be now no more agast, ne evil apaid, 
 I have thy faith and thy benignitee. 
 As wel as ever woman was, assaid^ 
 I^ gret estat, and pourelich arraied : 
 Now know I, dere wif, thy stedefastnesse, 
 And hire in armes toke, and gan to kesse. 
 
 And she for wonder toke of it no kepe -^ 
 She herde not what thing he to hire said : 
 She ferde^ as she had stert out of a slepe, 
 Til she out of hire masednesse'' abraid. 
 C-risilde, quod he, by God that for us deid, 
 Thou art my wif, non other I ne have, 
 Ne never had, as God my soule save. 
 
 This is thy doughter, which thou hast supposed 
 To be my wif; that other faithfully 
 Shal be min heir, as I have ay disposed ; 
 Thou bare hem of thy body trewely : 
 At Boloigne have I kept hem prively : 
 Take hem agen, for now maist thou not say,' 
 That thou hast lorn non of thy children tway. 
 
 And folk, that otherwise han said of me, 
 I warne hem wel, that I have don this dede 
 For no malice, ne for no crueltee. 
 But for to assay in thee thy womanhede : 
 And not to slee my children (God forbede) 
 
 1 Poorly. 2 Address to pity. 3 Tested. 
 
 * la. 5 Heed. 6 Feared. 7 Surprise. 
 
8953-8989. THE CLERKES TALE. 245 
 
 But for to kepe liem prively and still, 
 Til I, thy purpos knew, and all thy will. 
 
 Whan she this herd aswoime doiin she falleth 
 For pitous joye, and after hire swouning 
 She both hire yonge children to hire calleth, 
 And in hire armes pitoiisly weping 
 Embraceth hem, and tendrely kissing 
 !Ful like a nioder with hire salte teres 
 She bathed both hir visage and hir heres. 
 
 O, which a pitous thing it was to see 
 Hire swouning, and hire humble vois to here! 
 Grand mercy, lord, God thank it you (quod she) 
 That ye han saved me my children dere : 
 Now rekke^ I never to be ded right here, 
 Sin I stond in your love, and in your grace, 
 No force of deth, ne whan my spirit pace.. 
 
 O tendre, o dere, o yonge children mine, 
 Your woful mother wened^ stedfastly, 
 That cruel houndes, or som foul vermine 
 Had eten you ; but God of his mercy. 
 And your benigne fader tendrely 
 Hath don you kepe : and in that same stound* 
 Al sodenly she swapt^ adoun to ground. 
 
 And in hire swough^ so sadly holdeth she 
 Hire children two, whan she gan hem embrace. 
 That with gret sleight and gret difficultee 
 The children from hire arm they gan arraco 
 O ! many a tere on many a pitous face 
 Doun ran of hem that stoden hire beside, 
 TJnnethe abouten hire might they abide. 
 
 "Walter hire gladeth,^ and hire sorwe slaketh. 
 She riseth up abashed from hire trance. 
 And every wight hire joye and feste maketh, 
 Til she hath caught agen hh-e contenance. 
 Walter hire doth so faithfully plesance. 
 That it was deintee for to seen the chere 
 Betwix hem two, sin they ben met in fere.' 
 
 1 Care. 2 Thought, 
 
 3 Moment. ■* FelL ^ Swoon. 
 
 6 Gladdeneth. 7 Together. 
 
246 THE CANTERBUEY TALES. 8990-9027. 
 
 Thise ladies, whan that they hir^ time sejj 
 Han taken hire, and into chambre gon, 
 And stripen hire out of hire rude arrey, 
 And in a cloth of gold that brighte shone, 
 With a coroune of many a riche stone 
 Upon hire hed, they into hall hire broughte: 
 And ther she was honoured as hire ougiit. 
 
 Thus hath this pitous day a blisful end ; 
 For every man, and woman, doth his might 
 This day in mirth and revel to dispend, 
 Til on the welkin^ shone the sterres bright; 
 Tor more solempne in every mannes sight 
 This feste was, and greter of costage, 
 Than was the revel of hire mariage. 
 
 Ful many a yere in high prosperitee 
 Liven thise two in concord and in rest, 
 And richely his doughter maried he 
 Unto a lord, on of the worthiest 
 Of all Itaille, and than in ]3ees and rest 
 His wives fader in his court he kepeth. 
 Til that the soule out of his body crepeth* 
 
 His sone succedeth in his heritage. 
 In rest and pees, after his fadres day: 
 And fortunat was eke in mariage, 
 AP put he not his wif in gret assay : 
 This world is not so strong, it is no nay. 
 As it hath ben in olde times yore, 
 And herkneth, what this auctour saith therfore. 
 
 This story is said, not for that wives shuld 
 Folwe Grisilde, as in humilitee, 
 For it were importable,'* tho they wold ; 
 But for that every wight in his degree 
 Shulde be constant in adversitee, 
 As was Grisilde, therfore Petrark writeth 
 This storie, which with high stile he enditetb. 
 
 For sith a woman was so patient 
 Unto a mortal man, wel more we ought 
 Beceiven all in gree' that God us sent. 
 
 * Their 2 Heaven. ^ Althougb. 
 
 4 Unbearable. ^ Grace. 
 
3-9062. THE CLERKES TALE, 247. 
 
 For gret skill is lie preve that he wrought: 
 But he ne temjDteth no man that he bought. 
 As saith seint Jame, if ye his pistelP rede^ 
 He preveth folk al day, it is no drede : 
 
 And suffreth us, as for our exercise, 
 With sharpe scourges of adversitee 
 Ful often to be bete in soudry wise ; 
 Not for to know our will, for certes he 
 Or we were borne, knew all our freeletee;^ 
 And for our best is all his governance ; 
 Let us than live in vertuous suffrance. 
 
 But o-^ word, lordings, herkeneth, or I go 
 It were ful hard to finden now adayes 
 In all a toun Grisildes three or two : 
 For if that they were put to swiche assayes, 
 The gold of hem hath now so bad alayes^ 
 With bras, that though the coine be faire at eye, 
 It wolde rather brast atwo' than plie.'' 
 
 For which here, for the wives love of Bathe, 
 Whos lif and al hire secte God maintene 
 In high maistrie, and elles were it scathe, 
 I wol with lusty herte fresshe and grene, 
 Say you a song to gladen you, I wene : 
 And let us stint of'' ernestful matere. 
 Herkneth my song, that saith in this manere. 
 
 Grisilde is ded, and eke hire patience. 
 And both at ones buried in Itaille : 
 For which I crie in oj)en audience, 
 jSTo wedded man so hardy be to assaiUe 
 His wives patience, in trust^ to find 
 Grisildes, for in certain he shal faille, 
 
 O noble wives, ful of high prudence, 
 Let non humilitee your tonges naile : 
 Ne let no clerk have cause or diligence 
 To write of you a storie of swiche mervaille. 
 
 1 Epistle. 
 
 
 2 Frailty. 
 
 3 One. 
 
 4 Alloys. 
 
 5 Burst in two. 
 
 6 Yield.. 
 
 7 Cease from. 
 
 8 In hopes. 
 
248 THE CANTERBUKY TALES. D063-9086. 
 
 As of Grisildis patient and kinde, 
 
 Lest Chiclievaclie^ you swalwe in hire entraillo. 
 
 Folweth ecco,^ that holdeth no silence, 
 But ever answereth at the countretaill* :^ , 
 Beth not bedaffed^ for your innocence, 
 But sharply taketh on you the governaille: 
 Emprenteth wel this lesson in your minde^ 
 For comun profit, sith it may availle. 
 
 Ye archewives, stondeth ay at defence, 
 Sin ye be strong, as is a gret camaille,^ 
 ISTe suffreth not, that men do you ofience. 
 And sclendre wives, feble as in bataille, 
 Beth egre as is a tigre yond in Inde ; 
 Ay clappeth*^ as a mill, I you counsaille. 
 
 Ne drede hem not, doth hem no reverence, 
 For though thin husbond armed be in maille, 
 The arwes of thy crabbed eloquence 
 Shal perce his brest, and eke his aventaille 'J 
 In jalousie T rede eke thou him binde, 
 And thou shalt make him couche as doth a quaille. 
 
 If thou be faire, ther^ folk ben in presence 
 Shew thou thy visage, and thin apparaille; 
 If thou be foule, be free of thy dispence, 
 To get thee frendes ay do thy travaille : 
 
 1 This excellent reading is restored upon the authority of the best 
 MSS. instead of the common one, Chechiface. The allusion is to the 
 subject of an old ballad, which is still preserved in MS. Harl. 2251. fol. 
 2 70. b. It is a kind of pageant, in which two beasts are introduced, 
 called Bycorne and ChicJievache. The first is supposed to feed upon 
 ohedient husbands, and the other upon patient wives; and the humour of 
 the piece consists in representing Bicorne as pampered with a super- 
 fluity of food, and Chichevache as lialf starved, — Tynchitt. 
 
 2 Echo. 2 _A. tally, answering exactly to the other. 
 4 Fooled. 5 Camel. ^ Talk, rattle. 
 
 7 The forepart of the armour. Sk. He deduces it from avant. But 
 ventaille was the common name for that aperture in a close helmet 
 through which the wearer was to breathe, Nicot, in v. ; so that perhaps 
 aventaille meant originally an helmet with such an aperture; un heaume 
 a ventaille. 
 
 8 Where. 
 
9087-9088. THE CLERKES TALE. 249 
 
 Be ay of cliere as light as lefe on linde, 
 
 And let liim care, and wepe, and wringe, and waille.^ 
 
 1 Tyrwliitt has the following remarks, which deserve notice : Beside 
 the MSS. C. I. Ask. I. 2, and others, we have the authority of both 
 Caxton's Editt. for concluding the Clerkes Tale in this manner, I say 
 nothing of the two Editt. by Pynson, as they are mere copies of Caxton's 
 second. But I must not conceal a circumstance, which seems to 
 contradict the supposition that the Marcliant's Prologue followed imme- 
 diately. In those same MSS. the following stanza is interposed: — 
 
 This worthy Clerk whan ended was his tale, 
 
 Our Hoste saide and sw^ore by cockes bones, 
 
 Me were lever than a barrel of ale 
 
 My wif at home had herd this legend ones; 
 
 This is a gentil tale for the nones. 
 
 As to my purpos, wiste ye my wille, 
 
 But thing that wol not be, let it be stille. 
 
 Whatever may be thought of the genuineness of these lines, they can 
 at best, in my opinion, be considered as a fragment of an unfinished 
 Prologue, which Chaucer might o^ice have intended to place at the end 
 of the ClerJces tale. When he determined to connect that tale with the 
 Marchant's in another manner, he may be supposed, notwithstanding, 
 to have left this Stanza for the present uncancelled in his MS. He has 
 made use of the thought, and some of the lines, in the Prologue "ivhicli 
 3onnect8 the Menkes Tale with Melibee, \&\\ 13S95— ISSOOo 
 
200 
 
 THE MARCHANTES PEOLOGUE. 
 
 Weping and wailing, care and other sorwe 
 I have ynongh, on even and on morwe, 
 Quod the marchant, and so have other mo. 
 That wedded ben ; I trowe that it be so: 
 For wel I wot it fareth so by me. 
 I have a wif, the werste that may be, 
 For though the fend to hire ycoiipled were, 
 She wolde him overmatche I dare wel swere. 
 "What shnlde I you reherse in special 
 Hire high malice 1 she is a shrew at al.^ 
 
 Ther is a long and a large difference 
 Betwix Grisildes grete patience. 
 And of my wif the passing crueltee. 
 "Were I unboundeh, all so mote I the, 
 I wolde never eft^ comen in the snare. 
 We wedded men live in sorwe and care, 
 Assay it who so wol, and he shal finde 
 That I say soth, by seint Thomas of Inde, 
 As for the more part, I say not alle; 
 God shilde that it shulde so befalle. 
 
 A, good sire hoste, I have ywedded be 
 Thise monethes two, and more not parde ; 
 And yet I trowe that he, that all his lif 
 Wifles hath ben, though that men wolde him rife® 
 Into the herte, ne coude in no manere 
 Tellen so much sorwe, as I you here 
 Coud tellen of my wives cursednesse. 
 
 Now, quod our hoste, marchant, so God you blesse, 
 Sin ye so mochel knowen of that art, 
 Ful hertely I pray you tell us part. 
 
 Gladly, quod he, but of min owen sore 
 For sory herte I tellen may no more. 
 
 • In all respects. 2 Again. 3 Thrust through, stab. 
 
251 
 
 %\t %httlini\UB fiiUo 
 
 9131-9152. 
 
 Whilom tlier was dwelling in LiimlDardie 
 A worthy knight, that born was at Pa vie 
 In which he lived in gret prosperitee; 
 And sixty yere a wifLes man was he, 
 And folwed ay his bodily delit 
 On women, ther as v/as his appetit, 
 As don thise fooles that ben seculere. 
 And whan that he was passed sixty yere. 
 Were it for holinesse or for dotage, 
 I cannot sain, but SAviche a gret corage 
 . Hadde this knight to ben a wedded man, 
 That day and night he doth all that he can 
 To espien, wher that he might wedded be ; 
 Praying our lord to granten him, that he 
 Mighte ones knowen of that blisful lit, 
 That is betwix an husbond and his wif, 
 And for to live under that holy bond, 
 With which God firste man and woman, bond. 
 Non other lif (said he) is worth a bene ; 
 For wedlok is so esy and so clene, 
 That in this world it is a paradise. 
 Thus saith this olde knight, that was so wise. 
 
 And certainly, as soth as God is king. 
 To take a wif, it is a glorious thing. 
 And namely whan a man is old and hore,^ 
 Than is a wif the fruit of his tresore ; 
 Than shuld he take a yong wif and a faire. 
 On which he might engendren him an heir© 
 And lede his lif in joye and in solas, 
 Wheras thise bachelers singen alas. 
 Whan that they finde any adversitee 
 In love, which n'is but childish vanitee. 
 
 22 
 
 1 Hoary, grey. 
 
252 THE CANTEKBUKY TALES. 9153-0192. 
 
 And trewely it sit wel to be so, 
 
 That bachelers have often peine and wo: 
 
 On brotel ground they bilde, and brotelnesse 
 
 They finden, whan they wenen^ sikernesse: 
 
 They live but as a bird or as a beste, 
 
 In libertee and under non areste, 
 
 Ther as a wedded man in his estat 
 
 Liveth a lit blisful and ordinat, 
 
 Under the yoke of manage ybound i 
 
 "Wel may his herte in joye and blisse abound. 
 
 For who can be so buxom^ as a wif ? 
 
 "Who is so trewe and eke so ententif 
 
 To kepe him, sike and hole,^ as is his make V 
 
 For wele or wo she n'ill him not forsake : 
 
 She n'is not wery him to love and serve, 
 
 Though that he lie bedrede^ til that he sterve.' 
 
 And yet som clerkes sain, it is not so, 
 Of which he Theophrast is on of tho : 
 What force though Theophrast list for to lie ? 
 
 Ne take no wif, quod he, for husbondrie, 
 As for to spare in houshold thy dispence: 
 A trewe servant doth more diligence 
 Thy good to kepe, than doth thin owen wif, 
 For she wol claimen half part al hire lif. 
 And if that thou be sike, so God me save, 
 Thy veray frendes or a trewe knave 
 Wol kepe thee bet than she, that waiteth ay 
 After thy good, and hath don many a day. 
 
 This sentence, and an hundred things werse 
 Writeth this man ther God his bones curse. 
 But take no kepe of al swiche vanitee, 
 Defieth Theophrast, and herkeneth me. 
 
 A wif is Goddes yefte verailyj 
 All other maner yeftes hardely, 
 As londes, rentes, pasture, or commune,^ 
 Or mebles,^ all ben yeftes of fortune, 
 That passen as a shadow on the wall: 
 But drede^ thou not, if plainly speke I shal, 
 A wif wol last and in thin hous endure, 
 Wel lenger than thee list paraventure. 
 
 » Suppose. 2 Obedient, faithful. 3 m or weU 
 
 < Mate. 5 Bedridden. '^ Die. 
 
 ° Common-land, I suppose. 8 ^loyeables. ^ Doubt. 
 
3-9234. THE MARCHANTES TALE. 253 
 
 Mariage is a ful gret sacrament ; 
 He which that hath no wif I hold him shent ;^ 
 He liveth helples, and all desolat : 
 (I spske of folk in secular estat) 
 And herkneth why, I say not this for nought, 
 That woman is for mannes helpe ywrought. 
 The highe God, whan he had Adam maked, 
 And saw him al alone belly naked, 
 God of his grete goodnesse saide than, 
 Let us now make an helpe unto this nan 
 Like to himself, and than he made him Eve, 
 
 Here may ye see, and hereby may ye preve, 
 That a wif is mannes helpe and his comfort, 
 His paradis terrestre and his disports 
 So buxom and so vertuous is she. 
 They mosten nedes live in unitee : 
 O flesh they ben, and o flesh, as I gesse, 
 Hath but on herte in wele and in distresse. 
 
 A wif? a! seintQ Islav'ie, beJiedicite, 
 How might a man have any adversite 
 That hath a wif 1 certes I cannot seye. 
 The blisse the which that is betwix hem two/© 
 Ther may no tonge telle or herte thinke. 
 If he be poure, she helpeth him to swinke ; 
 She kepeth his good, and wasteth never a del ; 
 All that hu-e husbond doth, hire liketh wel ; 
 She saith not ones nay, whan he saith ye ; 
 Po this, saith he; al redy, sire, saith she. 
 
 O blisful ordre, o wedlok precious, 
 Thou art so mery, and eke so vertuous, 
 And so commended, and approved eke. 
 That every man that holt^ him worth a leke, 
 Upon his bare knees ought all his lif 
 Thanken his God, that him hath sent a wif, 
 Or elles pray to God him for to send 
 A wif, to last unto his lives end. 
 Tor than his lif is set in sikernesse,® 
 He may not be deceived, as I gesse. 
 So that he werche after his wives rede ; 
 Than may he boldly beren up his hede. 
 They ben so trewe, and therwithal so wise. 
 For which, if thou wilt werchen as the wise, 
 
 1 Euined. 2 Holds. s Security. 
 
254 THE CANTEEBURY TALES. 9235-9274(. 
 
 Do alway so, as women wol thee rede. 
 
 Lo how that Jacob, as thise clerkes rede, 
 . By good conseil of his mother Eebekke 
 Bounde the kiddes skin about his nekke ; 
 For which his fadres benison he wan. 
 
 Lo Judith, as the storie eke tell can, 
 By good conseil she Goddes peple kept, 
 And slow him Holofernes while he slept. 
 
 Lo Abigail, by good conseil how she 
 Saved hire husbond JSTabal, whan that he 
 Shuld han be slain. And loke, Hester also 
 By good conseil delivered out of wo 
 The peple of God, and made him Mardoche© 
 Of Assuere enhaunsed for to be. 
 
 Ther n'is no thing in gree superlatit 
 (As saith Senek) above an humble wi£ 
 Suffer thy wives tonge, as Caton bit,'' 
 She shal command, and thou shalt suffren it, 
 And yet she wol obey of curtesie. 
 
 A wif is keper of thin husbondrie: 
 Wei may the sike man bewaile and wepe, 
 Ther as ther is- no wif the hous to kepe„ 
 I warne thee, if wisely thou wilt werche. 
 Love wel thy wif, as Crist loveth his cherche 
 If thou lovest thyself, love thou thy wif, 
 No man hateth his flesh, but in his lif 
 He fostreth it, and therfore bid I thee 
 Cherish thy wif, or thou shalt never the/'' 
 Husbond and wif, what so men jape or play, 
 Of worldly folk holden the siker way : 
 They ben so knit, ther^ may non harm betide. 
 And namely upon the wives side. 
 
 For which this Janug^ry, of whom I told. 
 Considered hath within his dayes old 
 The lusty lif, the vertuous quiete, 
 That is in mariage hony-swete. 
 And for his frendes on a day he sent 
 To tellen hem th' effect of his entent. 
 
 With face sad, his tale he hath hem told : 
 He sayde, frendes, I am hore and old, 
 
 * Biddeth, cf. Cato, Distich, iii. 25. "Uxorislinguam, sifrugiest, ferre 
 xnemento." 
 
 2 /. e.y where there is. ^ Thrive. ■* Them. 
 
9275-9314. THE MAECHANTES TALE. 255 
 
 And almost (God wot) on my pittes brinke, 
 Upon my soule somwhat most I thinke. 
 I have my body folily^ dispended^ 
 Blessed be God that it shal ben amended: 
 Tor I wol ben certain a wedded man, 
 And that anon in all the hast I can. 
 Unto som maiden, faire and tendre of age, 
 I ]iray you shapetli for my mariage 
 All sodenly, for I wol not abide : 
 And I woi fonde" to espien on my side, 
 To whom I may be wedded hastily. 
 But for as moche as ye ben more than I, 
 Ye shullen rather swiche a thing espien 
 . Than 1, and wher me beste were to allien. 
 
 But o thing warn I you, my frendes dere, 
 I wol non old wif han in no manere : 
 She shal not passen twenty yere certain. 
 Old fish and yonge flesh wold I have fain. 
 Bet is (quod he) a pike than a pikerel, 
 And bet than old beef is the tendre veeh 
 I wol no woman thirty yere of age, 
 It is but benestraw and gret forage. 
 And eke thise olde v/idewes (God it wote) 
 They connen so moch craft on Wades bote,^ 
 So mochel broken harm whan that hem lest, 
 That with hem shuld I never live in rest. 
 For sondry scoles maken subtil clerkes ; 
 Woman of many scoles half a clerk is. 
 But certainly, a yong thing men may gie, 
 Bight as men may warm wax with handes plie,'* 
 Wherfore I say you plainly in a clause, 
 I wol non old wif han right for this cause. 
 
 For if so were I hadde swiche meschance. 
 That I In hire ne coude have no plesance, 
 Than shuld I lede my lit in avoutrie,^ 
 And so streight to the devil whan I die. 
 Ne children shuld I non upon hire geten: 
 Yet were me lever houndes had me eten, 
 Than that min heritage shulde fall 
 In straunge hondes : and this I tell you alL 
 
 * Foolishly. 2 Xry. 
 
 3 Troihts and Cress, in, 615, the words " a tale of "Wade" are put to 
 denote some romantic history. Tyrwhitt confesses he cannot explain 
 the present allusion. 
 
 4 Bending, moulding. 5 Adultery. 
 
256 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 9315-9358* 
 
 I dote not, I wot the cause wliy 
 
 Men sliulden wedde : and furthermore wot I, 
 
 Ther speketh many a man ot mariage, 
 
 That wot no more of it than wot my page. 
 
 For which causes a man shuld take a wii. 
 
 If he ne may not liven chast his lif, 
 
 Take him a wif with gret devotion, 
 
 Because of leful procreation 
 
 Oi children, to the honour of God ahove, 
 
 And not only for paramour or love ; 
 
 And for they shulden lecherie eschue, 
 
 And yeld hir dette whan that it is due: 
 
 Or for that eche of hem shuld helpen other 
 
 In meschefe, as a suster shal the brother, 
 
 And live in chastitee ful holily. 
 
 But, sires, (by your leve) that am not I, 
 For God be thanked, I dare make avaunt, 
 I fele my limmes stark and suffisant 
 To don all that a man belongeth to : 
 I wot myselven best what I may do. 
 Though I be hoor, I fare as doth a tre, 
 That blosmeth er the fruit ywoxen be ; 
 The blosmy tre n'is neither drie ne deds 
 I fele me no wher hoor but on my hed. 
 Min herte and all my limmes ben as gren^ 
 As laurer thurgh the yere is for to sene. 
 And sin that ye han herd all min entent, 
 I pray you to my will ye wolde assent. 
 
 Diverse men diversely him told 
 Of mariage many ensamples old; 
 Som blamed it, som praised it certain; 
 But atte laste, shortly for to sain, 
 (As all day falleth altercation 
 Betwixen frendes in disj)utison) 
 Ther fell a strif betwix his brethren two, 
 Of which that on was cleped Placebo, 
 Justinus sothly called was that other. 
 
 Placebo sayd ; O January brother, 
 Ful litel nede han ye, my lord so dere, 
 Conseil to aske of any that is here : 
 But that ye ben so ful of sapience, 
 That you ne liketh for your high prudence 
 To weiven^ fro the word of Salomon. 
 This word sayd he unto us everich on; 
 1 Depart. 
 
9359-940U. THE MARCHANTES TALE. 257 
 
 Werke alle thing by conseil, tlius sayd he, 
 And than ne shalt thou not rej)enten thee. 
 But though that Salomon spake swiche a word, 
 Min owen dere brother and my lord, 
 So wisly God my soule bringe at rest, 
 I hold your owen conseil is the best. 
 
 For, brother min, take of me this motif, 
 I have now ben a court-man all my lif, 
 And God it wot, though I unworthy be, 
 I have stonden in ful gret degree 
 Abouten lordes of ful high estat : 
 Yet had I never with non of hem debat, 
 I never hem contraried trewely. 
 I wot wel that my lord can more than I ; 
 What that he saith, I hold it firme and stable, 
 I say the same, or elles thing semblable. 
 A ful gret fool is any conseillour, 
 That serveth any lord of high honour. 
 That dare presume, or ones thinken it, 
 That his conseil shuld passe his lordes wit, 
 Nay, lordes be no fooles by my fay. 
 Ye han yourselven shewed here to-day 
 So high sentence, so holily, and wel, 
 That I consent, and confirme every del 
 Your wordes all, and your opinioun. 
 By God ther n'is no man in all this toun 
 Ne in Itaille, coud bet han ysayd : 
 Crist holt him of this conseil wel apaid. 
 And trewely it is an high corage 
 Of any man that stop en is in age, 
 . To take a young wif, by my fader kin : 
 Your herte hongeth on a joly pin. 
 
 Doth now in this matere right as you lest, 
 For finally I hold it for the best. 
 
 Justinus, that ay stille sat and herd, 
 Right in this wise he to Placebo answerd. 
 Now, brother min, be patient I pray. 
 Sin ye han said, and herkneth what I say. 
 
 Senek among his other wordes wise 
 Saith, that a man ought him right wel avise. 
 To whom he yeveth his lond or his catey 
 And sith I ought avisen me right wel, 
 
 1 Goods. 
 
258 THE CANTERBUKY TALES. Qi0l-H^2* 
 
 To •whom I yeve my good away fro me, 
 
 Wei more I ouglit avisen me, parde, 
 
 To whom I yeve my body: for alway 
 
 I warne you wel it is no childes play 
 
 To take a wif without avisement. 
 
 Men must enqueren (this is min assent) 
 
 Wheder she be wise and sobre, or dronkelewe, 
 
 Or proud, or elles other waies a shrew, 
 
 A chidester, or a wastour of thy good, 
 
 Or riche or poure, or elles a man is wood. 
 
 Al be it so, that no man finden shal 
 
 Non in this world, that trotteth hoP in al, 
 
 'Ne man, ne beste, swiche as men can devise. 
 
 But natheles it ought ynough suffice 
 
 With any waf, if so were that she had 
 
 Mo goode thewes,^ than hire vices bad: 
 ' And all this axeth leiser to enquere. 
 
 For God it wot, I have wept many a tere 
 
 Ful prively, sin that I had a wif. 
 
 Praise who so wol a wedded mannes lif, 
 
 Certain I find in it but cost and care, 
 
 And observances of alle blisses bare. 
 
 And yet, God wot, my neighebours aboute, 
 
 And namely^ of women many a route,"^ 
 
 Sain that I have the moste stedefast wif, 
 
 And eke the mekest on that bereth lif. 
 
 But I wot best, wher wringeth^ me my sho. 
 
 Ye may for me right as you liketh do. 
 
 Aviseth you, ye ben a man of age, 
 
 How that ye entren into mariage ; 
 
 And namely with a yong wif and a faire. 
 
 By him that made water, fire, erthe, and aire, 
 
 The yongest man, that is in all this route, 
 
 Is besy ynow to bringen it aboute 
 
 To han his wif alone, trusteth me : 
 
 Ye shul not plesen hire fully yeres three. 
 
 This is to sain, to don hire ful plesance. 
 
 A wif axeth ful many an observance. 
 
 I pray you that ye be not evil apaid. 
 
 Wel, quod this January, and hast thou saidel 
 
 Straw for Senek, and straw for thy proverbes, 
 
 I counte not a panier ful of herbes 
 * Whole, sound. 2 Qualities. 
 
 3 Especially. ■* Company. 5 Finches. 
 
3-9484. THE MARCHANTES TALE. 250 
 
 Of scole termes ; wiser men than thou. 
 
 As thon hast herd, assented here right now 
 
 To my purpos : Placebo, what saye ye 1 
 
 I say it is a cursed man, quod he, 
 That letteth matrimoine sikerly.^ 
 And with that word they risen sodenly, 
 And ben assented fully, that he sholde 
 Be wedded whan him list, and wher he wolde. 
 
 High fantasie and curious besinesse 
 Fro day to day gan in the soule empresse 
 Of January about his mariage. 
 Many a faire shap, and many a faire visage 
 Ther passeth thurgh his herte night by night. 
 As who so toke a mirrour polished bright, 
 And set it in a comune market place, 
 Than shuld he see many a figure pace 
 By his mirrour, and in the same wise 
 Gan January in with his thought devise 
 Of maidens, which that dwelten him beside: 
 He wiste not wher that he might abide. 
 For if that on have beautee in hire face, 
 Another stont so in the peples grace 
 For hire sadnesse" and hire benignitee, 
 That of the peple the gretest vols hath she : 
 And som were riche and hadden a bad name. 
 But natheles, betwix ernest and game, 
 He at the last appointed him on on, 
 And let all other from his herte gon. 
 And chees hire of his owen auctoritee. 
 For love is blind all day, and may not see. 
 And whan that he was in his bed ybrought. 
 He purtreied in his herte and in his thought 
 Hire freshe beautee, and hire age tendre, 
 Hire middel smal, hu-e armes long and sclendre, 
 Hire wise governance, hire gentiliesse. 
 Hire womanly bering, and hire sadnesse. 
 
 And whan that he on hire was condescended, 
 Him thought his chois it might not ben amended; 
 For whan that he himself concluded had. 
 Him thought eche other mannes wit so bad, 
 That impossible it were to replie 
 Again his chois ; this was his fantasie. 
 
 ' Entirely. " Seriousness. 
 
260 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 9135-9326 
 
 His frendes sent he to, at liis instance, 
 And praied hem to don him that plesance, 
 That hastily they wolden to him come ; 
 He wolde abregge hir labour all and some : 
 Neded no more to hem to go ne ride, 
 He was appointed ther he wolde abide. 
 
 Placebo came, and eke his frendes sone. 
 And alderfirst he bade hem all a bone,^ 
 That non of hem non argumentes make 
 Again the purpos that he hath ytake : 
 Which purpos was plesant to God (said he) 
 And veray ground of his prosperitee. 
 
 He said, ther was a maiden in the toun, 
 Which that of beautee hadde gret renoun, 
 Al were it so, she were of smal degree, 
 Sufficeth him hire youth and hire beautee : 
 Which maid (he said) he wold han to his wif 
 To lede in ese and holinesse his lif : 
 And thanked God, that he might han hire all, 
 That no wight with his blisse parten shall \ 
 And praied hem to labour in this nede, 
 And shapen that he faille not to spede. 
 Tor than, he sayd, his spirit was at ese ; 
 Than is (quod he) nothing may me displese, 
 Save thing pricketh in my conscience, 
 The which I wol reherse in your presence. 
 
 I have (quod he) herd said ful yore ago, 
 Ther may no man han parfite blisses two, 
 This is to say, in erthe and eke in heven. 
 For though he kepe him fro the sinnes seven, 
 And eke from every branch of thilke tree, 
 Yet is ther so parfit felicitee, 
 And so gret ese and lust in mariage, 
 That ever I am agast now in min age, 
 That I shal leden now so mery a lif, 
 So delicat, withouten wo or strif. 
 That I shal han min heven in erthe here. 
 For sin that veray heven is bought so dere 
 With tribulation and gret penance, 
 How shuld I than, living in swiche plesance 
 As alle wedded men don with hir wives. 
 Come to the blisse, ther Crist eterne on live is 3 
 
 1 Begged of them a boon. 
 
9527-9568. THE MARCHANTES TALE. 261 
 
 Tliis is my drede, and ye, my brethren tweie, 
 Assoileth^ me this question I preie. 
 
 Jnstiniis, which that hated his folie, 
 Answerd anon right in his japerie ; 
 And for he wold his longe tale abrege, 
 He wolde non auctoritee allege, 
 But sayde, sire, so ther be non obstacle 
 Other than this, God of his hie miracle, 
 And of his mercy may so for you werche, 
 That er ye have your rights of holy cherche, 
 Ye may repent of wedded mannes lif, 
 In which ye sain ther is no wo ne strif : 
 And elles God forbede, but if he sent 
 A wedded man his grace him to repent 
 Wei often, rather than a single man. 
 And therfore, sire, the best rede^ that I can, 
 Despeire you not, but haveth in memorie, 
 Para venture she may be your purgatorie ; 
 She may be Goddes mene and Goddes whippoj 
 Than shal your soule up unto heven skippe 
 Swifter than doth an arow of a bow. 
 I hope to God hereafter ye shal know, 
 That ther nls non so gret felicitee 
 In mariage, ne never more shal be, 
 That you shal let of ^ your salvation, 
 So that ye use, as skill is and resou, 
 The lustes of your wif attemprely, 
 And that ye plese hire nat to amorously: 
 And that ye kepe you eke from other sinn& 
 My tale is don, for my wit is but thinne. 
 Beth not agast hereofj my brother dere. 
 But let us waden out of this matere. 
 The wif of Bathe, if ye han understonde, 
 Of mariage, Avhich ye now han in honde. 
 Declared hath ful wel in litel space : 
 Fareth now wel, God have you in his grace. 
 
 And with this word this Justine and his brother 
 Han take hir leve, and eche of hem of other. 
 And whan they saw that it must nedes be, 
 They wroughten so by sleighte and wise tretee, 
 That she this maiden, Which that Maius hight, 
 As hastily as ever that she might, 
 
 t Absolve, answer. 2 Advise. 8 Lose. 
 
262 THE CANTEBBURY TALES. 9569-960(h 
 
 Shal wedded be -unto this Jannarj. 
 
 I trow it were to longe you to tary, 
 
 If I you told of every script and bond, 
 
 By which, that she was feoffed^ in his lond; 
 
 Or for to rekken of hire rich array. 
 
 But finally yeomen is the day, 
 
 That to the chirche bothe ben they went, 
 
 Tor to receive the holy sacrament. 
 
 Forth Cometh the preest, with stole about his nekke 
 
 And bade hire be like Sara and Eebekke, 
 
 In wisdome and in trouthe of mariage : 
 
 And sayd his orisons, as is usage. 
 
 And crouched^ hem, and bade God shuld hem blessej 
 
 And make all siker^ ynow with holinesse. 
 
 Thus ben they wedded with solempnitee: 
 And at the feste sitteth he and she 
 With other worthy folk upon the deis.'* 
 Al ful of joye and blisse is the paleis, 
 And ful of instruments, and of vitaillej 
 The moste deinteous of all Itaille. 
 Beforn hem stood swiche instruments of soun, 
 That Orpheus, ne of Thebes Amphion, 
 Ne maden never swiche a melodic. 
 At every cours in came loude minstralcie, 
 That never Joab tromped for to here, 
 Ne he^ Theodomas yet half so clere 
 At Thebes, whan the citee was in doute. 
 Bacchus the win hem skinketh'' al aboute,- 
 And Venus laugheth upon every -wight, 
 (For January was become hire knight, 
 And wolde bothe assaien his corage 
 In libertee, and eke in mariage) 
 And with hire firebrond in hire hond aboute 
 Danceth before the bride and all the route. 
 And certainly I dare right wel say this, 
 Ymeneus, that God of wedding is. 
 Saw never his lif so mery a wedded man. 
 
 Hold thou thy pees, thou poet Marcian,'^ 
 
 Feed, dowered. 2 Signed them with the cross. 
 
 ^ Sure, fast. . ^ pajg. 
 
 5 The pronoun he is used emphatically. Theodomas was probably a 
 celebrated trumpeter in some "romantic history" of Thebes, to which 
 the poet alludes. 
 
 6 Poureth out, maketh flow freely. 1 Marcianus Capella, 
 
9607-9648, THE MARCHANTES TALE. 263 
 
 That •writest ns that ilke ■wedding mery 
 
 Of hire Philologie and him Mercurie, 
 
 And of the souges that the Muses songe : 
 
 To smal is both thy pen and eke thy tonge 
 
 For to descriven of this manage. 
 
 Whan tendre youth hath wedded stoupmg age, 
 
 Ther is swiche mirth that it may not be -writeii ; 
 
 Assaieth it yourself, than may ye witen 
 
 If that I lie or non in this matere. 
 
 Mains, that sit with so benigne a chere, 
 Hire to behold it semed faerie, 
 Queue Hester loked never with swiche an eye 
 On Assuere, so meke a look hath she, 
 I may you not devise all hire beautee ; . 
 But thus moch of hire beautee tell I may, 
 That she was like the brighte morwe of May 
 Fulfilled of all beautee, and plesance. 
 
 This January is ravished in a trance, 
 At every time he loketh in hire face. 
 But in his herte he gan hire to manace. 
 That he that night in armes wold hire streine 
 Harder than ever Paris did Heleine. 
 But natheles yet had he gret pitee 
 That thilke night offenden hire must he, 
 And thought, alas, o tendre creature, 
 Now wolde God ye mighten wel endure 
 All my corage, it is so sharpe and kene ; 
 I am agast ye shal it nat sustene. 
 But God forbede, that I did all my might. 
 Now wolde God that it were waxen night, 
 And that the night wold lasten ever mo. 
 I wold that all this peple were ago. 
 And finally he doth all his labour, 
 As he best mighte, saving his honour, 
 To haste hem fro the mete^ in subtil wise. 
 
 The time came that reson was to rise, 
 And after that men dance, and drinken fast, 
 And spices all about the hous they cast. 
 And ful of joye and blisse is every man, 
 All but a squier, that highte Damian, 
 Which carf beforn the knight ful many a davs 
 He was so ravisht on his lady May, 
 
 1 From the banquet. 
 28 
 
264 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 9649-9682. 
 
 That for the veray peine he was nie wood ;^ 
 Almost he swelt, and swonned ther he stood : 
 So sore hath Venus hurt him with hire brond, 
 As that she bare it dancing in hire hond. 
 And to his bed he went him hastily; 
 No more of him as at this time speke I ; 
 But ther I let him wepe ynow and plaine, 
 Till freshe May wol rewen on his peine. 
 
 O perilous fire, that in the bedstraw bredethj 
 O famuler fo,^ that his service bedeth!^ 
 O rjervant traitour, false of holy hewe,^ 
 Like to the nedder^ in bosom slie untrewe, 
 God shelde us alle from your acquaintance ! 
 O January, dronken in plesance 
 Of mariage, see how thy Damian, 
 Thin owen squier and thy boren man, 
 Entendeth for to do thee vilanie : 
 God grante thee thin homly fo to espie, 
 For in this world n'is werse pestilence, . 
 Than homly fo, all day in thy presence. 
 
 Parformed hath the sonne his arke diurno, 
 No longer may the body of him sojourne 
 On the orisont, as in that latitude : 
 Night with his mantel, that is derke and rude, 
 Gan oversprede the Hemisperie aboute : 
 For which departed is this lusty route 
 Fro January, with thank on every side. 
 Home to hir houses lustily they ride, 
 Ther as they don hir tliinges, as hem lest, 
 And whan they saw hir time gon*' to rest. 
 
 Sone after that this hastif January 
 Wol go to bed, he wol no longer tary. 
 He drinketh Ipocras, clarre, and vernagc^ 
 Of spices hot, to encresen his corage : 
 
 iMad. 2Domcslicfoe. 3 pi-offercth. 
 
 4 Cf. vs. 12355. "under liewe of holinesse. 
 
 s Adder. c -Time for tliem to go. 
 
 7 The Vernage, whatever may have been the reason of its name, was 
 probably a wine of Crete, or of the neighbouring continent. Froiss. 
 V. iv. c. IS. De I'isle de Candie il leur venoit tresbonnes malvoisies et 
 grenaches (r. gernaches) dont ils estoient largement servis et confortez. 
 Our autlior in anotlier place, ver, 13000, 1. joins together the wines of 
 Malvesie and Vernage. Malvasia was a town ui)on the eastern coast of 
 the Morea, near the site of the ancient Epidaurus Limera within a small 
 distance from Crete. — Tyrwhitt. 
 
9683-0724. THE MARCHANTES TALE. 2Q5 
 
 And many a letuarie had he ful fine, 
 Swiche as the cursed monk dan^ Constantlne 
 Hath written in his book de Coitu; 
 To ete hem all he wolde nothing eschne ; 
 And to his privee frendes thus sayd he : 
 
 For Goddes love, as sone as it may be, 
 Let voiden all this hous in curteis wise. 
 And they han don right as he wol devise. 
 
 Men drinken, and the travers drawe anon ; 
 The bride is brought a-bed as still as ston ; 
 And whan the bed was with the preest yblessed, 
 Out of the chambre hath every wight hhn dressed. 
 And January hath fast in armes take 
 ■ His freshe May, his paradis, his make. 
 He luUeth hire, he kisseth hire ful oft ; 
 With thicke bristles of his herd unsoft. 
 Like to the skin of houndfish, sharp as brere, 
 (For he was shave al newe in his manere) 
 He rubbeth hire upon hire tendre face. 
 And sayde thus ; Alas ! I mote trespace 
 To you, my spouse, and you gretly offend, 
 Or time come that I wol doun descend. 
 But natheles considereth this (quod he) 
 Ther n'is no werkman, whatsoever he be, 
 That may both werken wel and hastily : 
 This wol be don at leiser i3arfitly. 
 It is no force how longe that we play ; 
 In trewe wedlok coupled be we tway ; 
 And blessed be the yoke that we ben inne. 
 For in our actes may ther be no sinne. 
 A man may do no sinne with his wif, 
 Ne hurt himselven with his owen knif : 
 For we have leve to play us by the lawe. 
 
 Thus laboureth he, til that the day gan dawe, 
 And than he taketh a sop in fine clarre, 
 And upright in his bed than sitteth he. 
 And after that he sang ful loud and clere, 
 And kist his wif, and maketh wanton chere. 
 He was al coltish, ful of ragerie. 
 And ful of j ergon, as a flecked pie. 
 The slacke skin about his necke shaketh. 
 While that he sang, so chanteth he and craketh. 
 
 1 Lord, master, a corruption of Dominus. So Dom is still used in 
 France. 
 
266 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 9725-P7G3, 
 
 But God wot wliat that May tliouglit in hire herta, 
 
 Whan she him saw up sitting in his shert(» 
 
 In his night cap, and with his necke lene : 
 
 She praiseth not his playing worth a bene. 
 
 Than sayd he thus ; my reste wol I take 
 
 Now day is come, I may no longer wake ; 
 
 And doun he layd his hed and slejot til prime. 
 
 And afterward, whan tbit he saw his time. 
 
 Up riseth January, but freshe May 
 
 Held hire in chambre til the fourthe day, 
 
 As usage is of wives for the beste. 
 
 For every labour somtime moste han reste. 
 
 Or elles longe may he D.ot endure ; 
 
 This is to say, no lives creature, 
 
 Be it of fish, or brid, or best, or man. 
 
 Now wol I speke of woful Damian, 
 That langureth^ for lo^'-e, as ye shul here ; 
 Therfore I speke to him in this manere. 
 I say, O sely Damian, alas ! 
 Answer to this demand, as in this cas. 
 How shalt thou to thy lady freshe May 
 Tellen thy wo 1 She "W'ol alway say nay ; 
 Eke if thou speke, she wol thy wo bewrein f 
 God be thin help, I can no better sein. 
 
 This sike Damian in Yenus fire 
 So brenneth, that he dieth for desire ; 
 For which he put his lif in aventure, 
 No lenger might he in this wise endure, 
 But prively a penner gan he borwe. 
 And in a lettre wrote he all his sorwe, 
 In manere of a complaint or a lay, 
 Unto his faire freshe lady May. 
 And in a purse of silk, heng on his sherte, 
 He hath it put, and layd it at his herte. 
 
 The mone that at none was thilke day 
 That January hath wedded freshe May 
 In ten of Taure, was into Cancer gliden ;^ 
 So long hath Mains in hire chambre abiden, 
 
 1 Languishetli. 2 Betray. 
 
 3 The greatest number of MSS. read, two, fuo, too, or to. But the time 
 given (foure daises complete, ver. 9767.) is not sufficient for the moon to 
 pass from the second degree of Taurus into Cancer. The mean daily 
 motion of the moon being = 13°. 10', 35". her motion in four days is = 
 1*. 22°. 42'. or not quite 53 degrees; so that, supposing her to set out 
 
97G3-9800. THE MARCHANTES TALE. 267 
 
 As custome is unto tliise nobles alle. 
 A bride shal not eten in the lialle, 
 Til dayes four or three dayes at the leste 
 Ypassed ben, than let hire go to feste. 
 The fourthe day complete fro none to none, 
 Whan that the highe messe was ydone, 
 In halle sat this January and May, 
 As fresh as is the brighte somers day. 
 And so befel, how that this goode man 
 Eemembred him upon this Damian, 
 And sayde ; Seinte Marie, how may it be. 
 That Damian entendeth^ not to me 1 
 Is he ay sike ? or how may this betide 1 
 
 His squiers, which that stoden ther beside. 
 Excused him, because of his siknesse, 
 Which letted"-^ him to don his besinesse : 
 Non other cause mighte make him tary. 
 
 That me forthinketh, quod this January ; 
 He is a gentil squier by my trouthe, 
 If that he died, it were gret harme and routhe. 
 He is as wise, discret, and as secree, 
 As any man I wote of his degree. 
 And therto manly and eke servisable, ' 
 And for to ben a thrifty man right able. 
 But after mete as sone as ever I may 
 I wol myselfe visite him, and eke May, 
 To don him all the comfort that I can. 
 And for that word him blessed every man, 
 That of his bountee and his gentillesse 
 He wolde so comforten in siknesse 
 His squier, for it was a gentil dede. 
 
 Dame, quod this January, take good liede, 
 At after mete, ye with your women alle, 
 (Whan that ye ben in chambre out of this halle) 
 That all ye gon to see this Damian : 
 Doth him disport, he is a gentil man, 
 And telleth him that I wol him visite, 
 Have I no thing but rested me a lite : 
 
 from tlie second of Taurus, she would not, in that time, be advanced 
 beyond the 25th degree of Gemini. If she set out from the 10th degree 
 of Taurus, as I have corrected the text, slie might properly enough be 
 said, in four days, to be gUden into Cancer. — TyricMtt. 
 * Attendeth. 2 Hindered. 
 
26S THE CANTERBURY TALES. 9801-9843. 
 
 And spede you faste, for I wol abide 
 Till that ye slepen faste by jny side. 
 And with that word he gan unto him calle 
 A squier, that was marshal of his halle, 
 And told him certain thinges that he wolde. 
 
 This freshe May hath streight hire way yholde 
 With all hire women unto Damian. 
 Doun by his beddes side sit she than, 
 Comforting him as goodly as she may. 
 
 This Damian, whan that his time he say,' 
 In secree wise, his purse, and eke his bill/ 
 In which that he ywritten had his will. 
 Hath put into hire hond withouten more, 
 Save that he siked wonder depe and sore, 
 And softely to hire right thus sayd he ; 
 Mercie, and that ye nat discover me : 
 For I am ded, if that this thing be kid.^ 
 
 This purse hath she in with^ hire bosome hid. 
 And went hire way ; ye get no more of me ; 
 But unto January ycome is she, 
 That on his beddes side sate ful soft. 
 He taketh hire, and kisseth hire ful oft : 
 And layd him doun to slepe, and that anon.' 
 She feined hire, as that she muste gon 
 Ther as ye wote that every wight mot nede ; 
 And whan she of this bill hath taken hede, 
 She rent it all to cloutes at the last, 
 And in the privee softely it cast.' 
 
 Who studieth now but faire freshe May ? 
 Adoun by olde January she lay. 
 That slepte, til the cough hath him awaked : 
 Anon he prayd hire stripen hire al naked, 
 He wolde of hire, he said, have som plesance 
 And said, hire clothes did him encombrance. 
 And she obeieth him, be hire lefe or loth. 
 But lest that precious folk be with me wroth. 
 How that he wrought, I dare nat to you tell, 
 Or wheder hire thought it paradis or hell ; 
 But ther I let hem werken in hir wise 
 Til evesong rang, and that they must arise. 
 
 Were it by destinee, or aventure. 
 Were it by influence, or by nature, 
 
 1 Saw. 2 Billet, writing, 
 
 3 Made known. ^ within. 
 
9843-9884. THE MARCHANTES TALE. 2G9 
 
 Or constellation, tliat in swiche estat 
 
 The heven stood at that time fortnnat, 
 
 As for to put a bill of Venus werkes 
 
 (For alle thing hath time, as sayn thise clerkcs) 
 
 To any woman for to get hire love, 
 
 I cannot say, but grete God above. 
 
 That knoweth that non act is causeles. 
 
 He deme of all, for I wol hold my pees. 
 
 But soth is this, how that this freshe May 
 
 Hath taken swiche impression that day 
 
 Of pitee on this sike Damian, 
 
 That fro hire h^rte she ne driven can 
 
 The remembrance for to don him ese. 
 
 Certain (thought she) whom that this thing displese 
 
 I rekke not, for here I him assure, 
 
 To love him best of any creature. 
 
 Though he no more hadde than his sherte. 
 
 Lo, pitee renneth sone in gentil herte. 
 Here may ye seen, how excellent franchise* 
 In women is whan they hem narwe avise. 
 Som tyraunt is, as ther ben many on, 
 That hath an herte as hard as any ston, 
 "Which wold han lette him sterven^ in the place 
 Wei rather than han granted him hire grace ; 
 And hem rejoycen in hir cruel pride. 
 And rekken not to ben an homicide. 
 
 This gentil May, fulfilled of pitee. 
 Bight of hire hond a lettre maketh she, 
 In which she granteth him hire veray grace ; 
 Ther lacked nought, but only day and place, 
 Wher that she might unto his lust suflB.ce : 
 For it shal be, right as he wol devise. 
 
 And whan she saw hire time upon a day 
 To visiten this Damian goth this May, 
 And sotilly this lettre doun she threst 
 Under his pilwe, rede it if him lest. 
 She taketh him by the hond, and hard him twist^ 
 So secretly, that no wight of it wist. 
 And bade him ben all hoi/ and forth she went 
 To January, whan he for hire sent. 
 
 Up riseth Damian the nexte morwe, 
 Al passed was his siknesse and his sorwe. 
 ' Frankness. 2 pje, 
 
 • Pressed, squeezed. * "Well, sound. 
 
270 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 9S85-9928, 
 
 He kembetli him, lie prometh him and piketh,* 
 He doth all that his lady lust and liketh ; 
 And eke to January he goth as lowe, 
 As ever did a dogge for the bowe. 
 He is so plesant unto every man, 
 (For craft is all, who so that don it can) 
 That every wight is ain to speke him good 5 
 And fully in his ladies grace he stood. 
 
 Thus let I Damian about his nede, 
 And in my tale forth I wol procede. 
 
 Som clerkes holden that felicitee 
 Stant in delit, and therfore certain he 
 This noble January, with all his might 
 In honest wise as longeth to a knight, 
 tShope him to liven ful deliciously. 
 His housing, his array, as honestly 
 To his degree was maked as a kinges. 
 Amonges other of his honest thinges 
 He had a gardin walled all with ston, 
 So fayre a gardin wote I no wher non. 
 For out of doute I veraily suppose, 
 That he that wrote the Eomant of the Eose, 
 Ne coude of it the beautee wel devise : 
 Ne Priapus ne mighte not suffise, 
 Though he be god of gardins, for to tell 
 The beautee of the gardin, and the well, 
 That stood under a laurer alway grene. 
 Ful often time he Pluto and his queue 
 Proserpina, and alle hir faerie, 
 Disporten hem and maken melodie 
 About that well, and daunced, as men told. 
 
 This noble knight, this January the old 
 Swiche deintee hath in it to walke and pley, 
 That he wol suffre no wight bare the key, 
 Sauf he himself, for of the smal wiket 
 He bare alway of silver a cliket,^ 
 "With which whan that him list he it unshette. 
 And whan that he wold pay his wives dette 
 In somer seson thider wold he go, 
 And May his wif, and no wight but they two ; 
 And thinges which that were not don a-bedde, 
 He in the gardin parfourmed hem and spedde. 
 
 ' rruneth and picketh, a metaphor taken from birds. 2 Kef. 
 
9927-9970 THE MARCH.'VNTES TALE. 271 
 
 And in this wise many a mery day 
 Lived this January and freshe May, 
 But worldly joye may not alway endurr 
 To January, ne to no creature. 
 
 O soden hap, o thou fortune unstable 
 Like to the Scorpion so deceivable, 
 That flatrest with thy hed whan thou wolt sting; 
 Thy tayl is deth, thurgh thin enveniming. 
 O brotel joye, o swete poyson queinte, 
 O monstre, that so sotilly canst peinte 
 Thy giftes, under hewe of stedfastnesse. 
 That thou deceivest bothe more and lesse, 
 Why hast thou January thus deceived. 
 That haddest him for thy ful frend received ? 
 And now thou hast beraft him both his even, 
 For sorwe of which desireth he to dyen. 
 
 Alas ! this noble January free, 
 Amidde his lust and his prosperitee 
 Is waxen blind, and that al sodenly. 
 He wepeth and he waileth pitously ; 
 And therwithall, the fire of jalousie 
 (Lest that his wif shuld fall in som folie) 
 So brent his herte, that he wolde fain, 
 That som man had both him and hire yslain; 
 Tor nother after his deth, ne in his lif, 
 Ne wold he that she were no love ne wif, 
 But ever live as a widewe in clothes blake, 
 Sole as the turtle that hath lost hire make. 
 But at the last, after a moneth or tway 
 His sorwe gan asswagen, soth to say. 
 For whan he wist it might non other be. 
 He patiently toke his adversitee : 
 Save out of doute he ne may nat forgon, 
 That he n'as jalous ever more in on: 
 Which jalousie it was so outrageous, 
 That neither in halle, ne in non other hous, 
 Ne in non other place never the mo 
 He n'olde suffre hire for to ride or go. 
 But if that he had honde on hire alway. 
 For which ful often wepeth freshe May, 
 That loveth Damian so brenningly,* 
 That she moste either dien sodenly, 
 Or elles she moste han him as hire lest : 
 She waited whan hire herte wold to-brest.' 
 1 Buret. 
 
272 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 0971-10013. 
 
 Upon that other side Damian 
 Becomen is the sowefullest man 
 That ever was, for neither night ne day 
 Ne might he sjDeke a word to freshe May, 
 As to his purpos of no swiche matere, 
 Eut if that January mnst it here, 
 That had an hand upon hire evermo. 
 But natheles, by writing to and fro. 
 And privee signes, wist he what she ment, 
 And she knew eke the fin^ of his entent. 
 
 O January, what might it thee availe. 
 Though thou might seen, as fer as shi23pes saile ? 
 For as good is blind to deceived be. 
 As be deceived, whan a man may see. 
 Lo Argus, which that had an hundred eyeiif 
 For all that ever he coude pore or prien, 
 Yet was he blent,^ and, God wot, so ben mo, 
 That wenen wisly that it be not so : 
 Passe over is an ese, I say no more. 
 
 This freshe May, of which I spake of yore. 
 In warm wex hath enprented the cliket, 
 That January bare of the smal wiket, 
 By which into his gardin oft he went ; 
 And Damian that knew all hire entent 
 The cliket contrefeted prively ; 
 Ther n'is no more to say, but hastily 
 Som wonder by this cliket shal betide, 
 Which ye shul heren, if ye wol abide. 
 
 O noble Ovide, soth sayest thou, God wote. 
 What sleight is it if love be long and hote, 
 That he n'ill find it out in som manere ? 
 By Pyramus and Thisbe may men lere ; 
 Though they were kept ful long and streit over all, 
 They ben accorded, rowning^ thurgh a wall, 
 Ther no wight coude han founden swiche a sleighte. 
 But now to purpos ; er that dales eighte 
 Were passed of the month of Juil, befill, 
 That January hath caught so gret a will, 
 Thurgh egging of his wif,.him for to play 
 In his gardin, and no wight but they tway. 
 That in a morwe unto this May said he ; 
 Rise up, my wif, my love, my lady free ; 
 
 • End. 2 Blinded, deceived. 3 Whisperfng. 
 
10013-10054. THE MARCHANTES TALE. 273 
 
 The turtles vois is herd, myn owen swete ; 
 The winter is gon, with all his raines wete. 
 Come forth now with thin eyen columbine. 
 Wei fairer ben thy brests than ony v/ine. 
 The gardin is enclosed all aboute ; 
 Come forth, my white spouse, for out of doute. 
 Thou hast me wounded in myn herte, o wif | 
 No spot in thee n'as never in all thy lif. 
 Come forth, and let us taken our disport, 
 I chese thee for my wif and my comfort. 
 
 Swiche olde lewed wordes used he. 
 On Damian a signe made she, 
 That he shuld go before with his cliket. 
 This Damian hath opened the wiket, 
 And in he stert, and that in swiche manere, 
 That no wight might him see neyther yhere, 
 And still he sit under a bush. Anon 
 This January, as blind as is a ston. 
 With Mains in his hand, and no wight mo, 
 Into this freshe gardin is ago. 
 And clapped to the wiket sodenly, 
 
 Now, wif, quod he, here n'is but thou, and I, 
 That art the creature that I best love : 
 For by that lord that sit in heven above, 
 I hadde lever dien on a knit* 
 Than thee offenden, dere trewe wif. 
 Tor Goddes sake, thinke how I thee chees, 
 Not for no covetise douteles, 
 But only for the love I had to thee 
 And though that 1 be old and may not soe, 
 Beth to me trewe, and I wol tell you why; 
 Certes three thinges shal ye win therby; 
 rirst love of Crist, and to yourself honour, 
 And all min heritage, toun and tour. 
 I yeve it you, maketh chartres as you lest: 
 This shal be don to-morwe er sonne rest, 
 So wisly God my soule bring to blisse ; 
 I pray you on this covenant ye me kisse. 
 And though that I be jalous, wite me nought;' 
 Ye ben so depe enprented in my thought, 
 That whan that I consider your beautee, 
 And therwithall the unlikely elde of me, 
 
 > Ihink nothing of it. 
 
274 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 10055--10096. 
 
 I may not certes^ tliougli I slmlde die, 
 Forbere to ben out of your compagnie 
 For veray love; this is withouten doute : 
 Now kisse me, wif, and let us rome aboute. 
 
 This freshe May, whan she thise wordes herd 
 Benignely to January answerd, 
 But first and forward she began to wepe; 
 I have, quod she, a soule for to kepe 
 As wel as ye, and also min honour, 
 And of my wif hood thilke tendre flour, 
 Which that I have assured in your hond, 
 "Whan that the preest to you my body bond: 
 Wh erf ore I wol answere in this manere, 
 With leve of you, myn oAven lord so dere. 
 
 I pray to God that never daw that day. 
 That I ne sterve, as foule as woman may. 
 If ever I do unto my kin that shame. 
 Or elles I empeii-e^ so my name. 
 That I be false ; and if I do that lakke,^ 
 Do stripen me and put me in a sakke, 
 And in the nexte river do me drenche: 
 I am a gentil woman, and no wenehe. 
 Why speke ye thus? but men ben ever untrewe, 
 And women han reprefe of you ay newe. 
 Ye con non other daliance, I leve, 
 But speke to us as of untrust and reprove. 
 
 And with that word she saw wher Damian 
 Sat in the bush, and coughen she began ; 
 And with hire finger a signe made she, 
 That Damian shuld climbe up on a tre. 
 That charged was with fruit, and up he wents 
 For veraily he knew all hire entent, 
 And every signe that she coude make, 
 Wel bet than January hire owen make. 
 For in a lettre she had told him all 
 Of this matere, how that he werken shall. 
 And thus I let him sitting in the pery,^ 
 And January and May roming ful mery. 
 
 Bright was the day, and blew the firmament; 
 Phebus of gold his stremes doun hath sent 
 To gladen every flour with his warmnesse ; 
 He was that time in GeminiSf I gesse, 
 
 1 Impair. 2 j?.<^ult, sin. 3 pear. 
 
10097-10138. THE MARCHANTES TALE. 275 
 
 But litel fro his declination 
 
 Of Cancer, Joves exaltation. 
 
 And so befell in that bright morwe tide, 
 
 That in the gardin, on the ferther side, 
 
 Pluto, that is the king oi Faerie, 
 
 And many a ladie in his compagnie 
 
 Folwing his wif, the queue Proserpina, 
 
 Which that he ravisshed out of Ethna, 
 
 While that she gadred floures in the mede,* 
 
 (In Claudian ye may the story rede, 
 
 How that hire in his grisely carte he fette) 
 
 This king of Faerie adoun him sette 
 
 Upon a benche of turves freshe and grene, • 
 
 And right anon thus said he to his queue. 
 
 My wif, quod he, ther may no wight say nay, 
 The experience so preveth it every day, 
 The treson which that woman doth to man. 
 Ten hundred thousand stories tell I can 
 Notable of your untrouth and brotelnesse.^ 
 
 O Salomon, richest of all richesse , 
 Fulfilled of sapience, and worldly glorie, 
 Ful worthy ben thy wordes to memorie 
 To every wight, that wit and reson can. 
 Thus praiseth he the bountee yet of man ; 
 Among a thousand men yet fond I on, 
 But of all women fond I never non. 
 Thus saith this king, that knewe your wikkednessej 
 And Jesus, Filius Sirach, as I gesse. 
 He speketh of you but selden reverence. 
 A wilde fire, a corrupt pestilence, 
 So fall upon your bodies yet to-night: 
 Ne see ye not this honourable knight ? 
 Because, alas ! that he is blind and old, 
 His owen man shal make him cokewold. 
 Lo, wher he sit, the lechour, in the tree. 
 Now wol I graunten of my majestee 
 Unto this olde blinde worthy knight, 
 That he shal have again his eyen sight, 
 Whan that his wif wol don him vilanie ; 
 Than shal he knowen all hire harlotrie, 
 Both in reprefe-^ of hire and other mo. 
 
 Ye, sire, quod Proserpine, and wol ye so? 
 
 I /. e., in the field of Enna. • Brittleness. '* Keproof. 
 
 24 
 
276 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 10139-101 SO. 
 
 Now by my modre Ceres souls I swere, 
 
 That I slial yeve hire suffisant answers, 
 
 And alle women after for hne sake ; 
 
 That though they ben in any gilt ytake, 
 
 With face bold they shul hemselve excuse, 
 
 And here hem doun that wolden hem accuse. 
 
 For lacke of answere, non oi us shul dien. 
 
 Al had ye seen a tlnng ^vith bothe youre eyen, 
 
 Yet shul we so visage^ it hardely, 
 
 And wepe and swere and cliiden subtilly, 
 
 That ye shul ben as lewed- as bea gees. 
 
 What rekketh me of your auctoritees ? 
 I wote wel that this Jewe, this Salomon, 
 Fond of us women fooles many on: 
 But though that he ne fond no good woman, 
 Ther hath yfonden many an other man 
 Women ful good, and trewe, and vertuous ; 
 Witnesse on hem that dwelte in Cristes hous, 
 With martyrdom they preved hir Constance, 
 The Eomain gestes maken remembrance 
 Of many a veray trewe wif also. 
 But, sire, ne be not wroth, al be it so, 
 Though that he said he fond no good woman, 
 I pray you take the sentence of the man : 
 He ment thus. That in soveraine bountee-"^ 
 N'is non but God, no, nouther he ne she. 
 
 Ey, for the veray God that nis but on, 
 What maken ye so moche of Salomon? 
 .What though he made a temple, Goddes hous 1 
 What though he riche were and glorious 1 
 So made he eke a temple ot false goddes, 
 How might he don a thing that more forbode is 1 
 Parde as faire as ye his name emplastre, 
 He was a lechour, and an idolastre, 
 And in his elde he veray God forsoke. 
 And if that God ne hadde (as saith the boke) 
 Spared him for his fathers sake, he sholde 
 Han lost his regne rather than he wolde, 
 
 I sete nat of all the vilanie, 
 That he of women wrote, a boterflie. 
 I am a woman, nedes moste I speke. 
 Or swell unto that time min herte breke. 
 
 1 Face, brazen it out. " Simple, ignorant. ^ Goodness. 
 
lOlSl-10232. THE MARCHANTES TALE. 277 
 
 For sin he said tliat we ben jangleresses, 
 As ever mote I brouken hole my tresses, 
 I shal nat sparen for no curtesie 
 To speke him harm, that sayth us vilanie. 
 
 Dame, quod this Phito, be no lenger wroth, 
 I yeve it up : but sin I swore min oth, 
 That I wold graunten him his sight again, 
 My word shal stand, that warne I you certain: 
 I am a king, it sit me not to lie. 
 And I, quod she, am queue ot Faerie. 
 Hire answere she shal han I undertake. 
 Let us no more wordes of it make. 
 Forsoth, quod he, I wol you not contrary. 
 
 !Now let us turne again to January, 
 That in the gardin with his faire May 
 Singeth wel merier than the popingay: 
 " You love I best, and shal, and other non."* 
 
 So long about the alleyes is he gon. 
 Til he was comen again to thilke pery, 
 Wher as this Damian sitteth ful mery 
 On high, among the freshe leves grene. 
 
 This freshe May, that is so bright and sheno, 
 Gan for to sike, and said ; alas my side ! 
 Now, sire, quod she, for ought that may betide 
 I moste have of the peres that I see, 
 Or I moste die, so sore longeth me 
 To eten of the smale peres grene : 
 Help for hire love that is of heven queue. 
 I tell you wel a woman in my plit 
 May have to fruit so gret an appetit. 
 That she may dien, but she of it have. 
 
 Alas ! quod he, that I n'adde here a knave, 
 That coude climbe, alas ! alas ! (quod he) 
 For I am blinde. Ye, sire, no force, quod she; 
 • But wold ye vouchesauf for Goddes sake. 
 The pery in with your armes for to take, 
 (For wel I wot that ye mistrusten me) 
 Than wold I climben wel ynough, (quod she) 
 So I my fote might setten on your back. 
 
 Certes, said he, therin shal be no lack. 
 Might I you helpen with min herte blood. 
 
 He stou]peth doun, and on his back she stood, 
 
 1 This seems like a quotation from some popular ballad of the time. 
 
278 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 10223-10266. 
 
 And caught hire by a twist, and up she goth. 
 
 (Ladies, I pray you that ye be not wroth, 
 
 I can nat glose, I am a rude man .) 
 
 And sodenly anon this Damian 
 
 Gan pullen up the smock, and in he throng. 
 
 And whan that Pluto saw this grete wrong, 
 To January he yaf again his sight, 
 And made him see as wel as ever he might. 
 And whan he thus had caught his sight again, 
 Ne was ther never man oi thing so fain : 
 But on his wii his thought was ever mo. 
 
 Up to the tree he cast his eyen two, 
 And saw how Damian his wife had dressed 
 In swiche manere, it may not ben expressed, 
 But if I wolde speke uncurteisly. 
 And up he yaf a roring and a cry, 
 As doth the mother whan the child shal die; 
 Out ! helpe ! alas ! harow ! he gan to cry ; 
 
 stronge lady store, what doest thou ? 
 And she answered: sire, what aileth you ? 
 
 Have patience and reson in your minde, 
 
 1 have you holpen on both your eyen blinde. 
 Up peril of my soule, T shal nat lien, 
 
 As me was taught to helpen with your eyen, 
 "Was nothing better for to make you see, 
 Than strogle with a man upon a tree : 
 God w^ot, I did it in ful good entent. 
 
 Strogle I quod he, ye, algate in it went. 
 God yeve you both on shames deth to dien I 
 He swived thee ; I saw it with min eyen ; 
 And elles be I honged by the halse. 
 
 Than is, quod she, my medicine al false. 
 For certainly, if that ye mighten see. 
 Ye wold not say thise wordes unto me. 
 Ye have som giimsing, and no parfit sight. 
 
 I see, quod he, as wel as ever I might, 
 (Thanked be God) with both min eyen two. 
 And by my feith me thought he did thee so. 
 
 Ye mase, ye masen, go ode sire, quod she ; 
 This thank have I for I have made you sfee : 
 Alas ! quod she, that ever I was so kind. 
 
 Now, dame, quod he, let al passe out of mind: 
 Come doun, my lefe, and if I have missaid, 
 God helpe me so, as I am evil apaid. 
 
10267-10292. THE MARCHANTES TALE. 279 
 
 But by my ladres soule, I wende have sein, 
 How that this Damian had by thee leiii, 
 And that thy smock had lein upon his brest. 
 
 Ye, sire, quod she, ye may wene as you lest! 
 But, sire, a man that waketh of his slepe, 
 He may not sodenly wel taken kepe 
 Upon a thing, ne seen it parfitly, 
 Til that he be adawed veraily.^ 
 Bight so a man, that long hath blind ybe. 
 He may not sodenly so wel ysee, 
 First whan his sight is newe comen agein, 
 As he that hath a day or two ysein. 
 Til that your sight ysateled^ be a while, 
 Ther may ful many a sighte you begile. 
 Beware, I pray you, for by heven king 
 Ful many a man wenetlr^ to see a thing, 
 And it is all another than it semeth : 
 He which that misconceiveth oft misdemeth. 
 
 And with that word she lep doun fro the tree. 
 This January who is glad but he 1 
 He kisseth hire, and clippeth hire ful oft, 
 And on hire wombe he stroketh hire ful soft ; 
 And to his paleis home he hath hire lad. 
 Now, goode men, I pray you to be glad. 
 
 Thus endeth here my tale of Januarie, 
 God blesse us, and his moder Seinte Marie. 
 
 » Tlioroushly awakened. 2 Settled, establistiea. * 'IlilakeUj, 
 
280 
 THE SQUIERES PEOLOGUE. 
 
 10293-10323. 
 
 By Goddes mercy, sayde oure Hoste tlio, 
 Now swiche a wif I preie God kepe me froo 
 Lo, swiche sleiglites and subtilitees 
 In women ben ; for ay as besy as bees 
 Ben they us sely men for to deceive, 
 And from a sothe^ wol they ever weive.^ 
 By this Marchantes tale it preveth wel. 
 But natheles, as trewe as any stele, 
 I have a wif, though that she poure be ; 
 But of hire tonge a labbing^ shrewe is she ; 
 And yet she hath an hepe of vices mo. 
 Therof no force ; let all swiche thinges go. 
 But wete ye what ? in conseil be it seyde, 
 Me reweth sore I am imto hire teyde ; 
 For and I shulde rekene every vice, 
 Which that she hath, y wis I were to nice ; 
 And cause why, it shulde reported be 
 And told to hire of som of this compagnie, 
 (Of whom it nedeth not for to declare, 
 Sin women connen utter swiche chafiare) 
 And eke my wit sufficeth not therto 
 To tellen all ; wherfore my tale is do. 
 
 Squier, come ner, if it youre wille be, 
 And say som what of love, for certes ye 
 Connen theron as mo die as any man. 
 Nay, sire, quod he, but swiche thing as I can 
 With hertly wille, for I wol not rebelle 
 Agein youre lust, a tale wol I telle. 
 Have me excused if I speke amis ; 
 My wille is good; and lo, my tale is this, 
 
 I TruUi. 2 Depart. 3 Blabbing. 
 
281 
 
 10323-10354 
 
 At Sarra, in the lond of Tartarie, 
 
 Ther dwelt a king that werreied^ Eussie, 
 
 Thurgh which ther died many a doughty man; 
 
 This noble king was cleped Cambuscan, 
 
 "Which in his time was of so gret renoun, 
 
 That ther n'as no wher in no regioun, 
 
 So excellent a lord in alle thing : 
 
 Him lacked nought that longeth to a king, 
 
 As of the secte of which that he was borne. 
 
 He kept his lay to which he was ysworne, 
 
 And therto he was hardy, wise, and riche, 
 
 And pitous and just, and alway yliche f 
 
 Trewe of his word, benigne and honourable : 
 
 Of his corage as any centre stable ; 
 
 Yong, fresh, and strong, in armes desirous. 
 
 As any bacheler of all his hous. 
 
 A faire person he was, and fortunate, 
 
 And kept alway so wel reaP estat, 
 
 That ther n'as no wher swiche another m.an. 
 
 This noble king, this Tartre Cambuscan, 
 Hadde two sones by Elfeta his wif, 
 Of which the eldest sone highte Algarsi^ 
 That other was ycleped Camballo. 
 
 A doughter had this worthy king also, 
 That yongest was, and highte Canace : 
 But for to tellen you all hire beautee, 
 It lith not in my tonge, ne in my conning, 
 I dare not undertake so high a thing; 
 Min English eke is unsufficient, 
 It muste ben a Eethor^ excellent, 
 That coude his colours longing for^ that art, 
 If he shuld hire descriven ony part : 
 
 1 "Warred against. 2 Alike. s Eoyal. 
 
 * A rhetorician, orator. * That would know the colours belonging to. 
 
282 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 10355-10393. 
 
 I am not swiche, I mote speke as I can. 
 
 And so befell, that whan this Cambuscan 
 Hath twenty winter borne his diacleme, 
 As he was wont fro yere to yere I deme, 
 He let the teste of his nativitee 
 Don crien, thurghont Sarra his citee, 
 The last Idus of March, after the yere. 
 
 Phebus the sonne ful jolif was and clere, 
 For he was nigh his exaltation^ 
 In Martes face, and in his mansion 
 In Aries, the colerike hote signe: 
 Ful lusty was the wether and benigne, 
 For which the f oules- again the sonne shene. 
 What for the seson and the yonge grene. 
 Ful loude songen hir affections : 
 Hem semed han getten hem protections 
 Again the swerd of winter kene and cold. 
 
 This Cambuscan, of which I have you told, 
 In reaP vestiments, sit on his deis 
 With diademe, ful high in his paleis ; 
 And holt his teste so solempne and so riche, 
 That in this world ne was ther non it liche.* 
 Of which if I shal tellen all the array, 
 Than wold it occupie a somers day ; 
 And eke it nedeth not for to devise 
 At every cours the order of hir service, 
 I wol not tellen of hir strange sewes/^ 
 Ne of hir swannes, ne hir heronsewes.* 
 Eke in that lond, as tellen knightes old, 
 Ther is som mete that is ful deintee hold,'' 
 That in this lond men recche of it ful smal : 
 Ther n'is no man that may reporten al. 
 I wol not tarien you, for it is prime, 
 And for it is no fruit, but losse of time, 
 Unto my purpose I wol have recours. 
 
 And so befell that after the thridde coui-s 
 While that this king sit thus in his nobley, 
 Herking^ his ministralles hir thinges pley 
 
 * J. e , his highest influence. 2 The birds, i. e., their plumage. 
 
 ^ Koyal. 4 Like. 
 
 5 Dishes. A sewer was an officer so called from his placing the dishea 
 upon the table. Asseour, Fr. from asseoir, to place. — Tyrwhili. 
 
 6 Young herons, herongeaiuv. 
 
 Accounted. 8 Listening to. 
 
10393-10428. THE SQUIERES TALE. 283 
 
 Beforne him at his bord deliciously 
 
 In at the halle dore al sodenlj 
 
 Ther came a knight upon a stede of bras, 
 
 And in his hond a brod mirrour of glas ; 
 
 Upon his thombe he had of gold a ring, 
 
 And by his side a naked swerd hanging: 
 
 And lip he rideth to the highe bord. 
 
 In all the halle ne was ther spoke a word, 
 
 For mervaille of this knight ; him to behold 
 
 Fill besily they waiten yong and old. 
 
 This strange knight that come thus sodenly 
 Al armed save his hed ful richely, 
 Salueth king and quene, and lordes alle 
 By order, as they saten in the halle, 
 "With so high reverence and observance. 
 As wel in speche as in his contenance, 
 That Gawain^ with his olde curtesie, 
 Though he were come agen out of faerie, 
 Ne coude him not amenden with a word. 
 And after this, beforn the highe bord 
 He with a manly vols sayd his message, 
 After the forme used in his langage, 
 Withouten vice of sillable or of letter. 
 And for his tale shulde seme the better, 
 Accordant to his wordes was his chere,- 
 As techeth art oi speche hem that it lere,^ 
 Al be it that I cannot soune his stile, 
 Ne cannot climben over so high a stile, 
 Yet say I this, as to comun entent, 
 Thus much amounteth all that ever he ment, 
 If it so be that I have it in mind. 
 
 He sayd ; The king of Arabia and of Inde, 
 My liege lord, on this solempne day 
 Salueth you as he best can and may, 
 And sendeth you in honour of your feste 
 By me, that am al redy at your heste, 
 
 1 Nephew to King Arthur, by his sister married to King Lot. So says 
 the British History, which goes under the name of Geoffrey of Monmouth; 
 and I beheve it will be in vain to look for any more authentic genealogist 
 of all that family. He is there called Walgaiius. The French romancers, 
 who have built upon Geoffrey's foundations, agree in describing Gawain 
 as a model of knightly courtesy. To this his established character our 
 author alludes. — Tyrwhiit. 
 
 - Manner. 3 Learn. 
 
284 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 10430-10408. 
 
 This stede of bras, that esily and wel 
 
 Can in the space of a day natural, 
 
 (This is to sayn, in four and twenty houres) 
 
 Wher so you list, in drought or elles shoures.' 
 
 Beren your body into every place, 
 
 To which your herte willeth for to pace, 
 
 Withouten wemme^ of you, thurgh foule or iaire. 
 
 Or if you list to fleen as high in the aire, 
 
 As doth an egle, whan him list to sore, 
 
 This same stede shal here you evermore 
 
 "Withouten harme, til ye be ther you lest, 
 
 (Though that ye slepen on his back or rest) 
 
 And turne again, w^ith writhing of a pin. 
 
 He that it wrought, he coude many a gin f 
 
 He waited many a constellation, 
 
 Or he had don this operation, 
 
 And knew ful many a sele"* and many a bond. 
 
 This mirrour eke, that I have in min hond, 
 Hath swiche a might, that men may in it see, 
 Whan ther shal falle ony adversitee 
 Unto your regne, or to yourself also, 
 And openly, who is your frend or fo. 
 And over all this, if any lady bright 
 Hath set hire herte on any maner wight, 
 If he be false, she shal his treson see, 
 His newe love, and all his subtiltee 
 So openly, that ther shal nothing hide. 
 
 Wh erf ore again this lusty somer tide 
 This mirrour and this ring, that je may se, 
 He hath sent to my lady Canace, 
 Your excellente doughter -"hat is here. 
 
 The vertue of this ring, ! i' ye wol here, 
 Is this, that if hire list it for to were 
 Upon hire thombe, or in hire purse it bere, 
 Ther is no foule that fleeth under heven. 
 That she ne shal wel understond his steven,^ 
 And know his mening openly and plaine, 
 And answere him in his langage again : 
 And every gras'^ that groweth upon rote^ 
 She shal eke know, and whom it wol do bote,^ 
 
 1 In dry weather or wet. 2 Fault. 
 
 3 Knew many a trick. ^ Seal. 
 
 5 Voice. 6 Herb. 
 
 7 Eoot. 8 Help, remedy. 
 
i04G9-1050S. THE SQUIERES TALE. 2S5 
 
 All be liis woimdes never so depe and wide. 
 
 This naked swerd, tliat hangeth by my side, 
 Swiche vertue hath, that what man that it smite, 
 Thurghout his armure it wol kerve and bite, 
 Were it as thicke as is a braunched oke : 
 And what man that is wounded witli the stroke 
 Shal never be hole, til that 3'ou list of grace 
 To stroken him with the platte^ in thilke place 
 Ther he is hurt ; this is as much to sain, 
 Ye moten with the platte swerd again 
 Stroken him in the wound, and it wol close. 
 This is the veray soth withouten glose. 
 It failleth not, while it is in your hold. 
 
 And whan this knight hath thus his tale told, 
 He rideth out of halle, and doun he light : 
 His stede, which that shone as sonne bright, 
 Stant in the court as stille as any ston. 
 This knight is to his chambre ladde anon. 
 And is unarmed, and to the mete ysette. 
 Thise presents ben ful richelich yfette, 
 This is to sain, the swerd and the mirrour, 
 And borne anon into the highe tour, 
 With certain officers ordained therfore; 
 And unto Canace the ring is bore 
 Solempnely, ther she sat at the table; 
 But sikerly,^ withouten any fable, 
 The hors of bras, that may not be remued f 
 It stant, as it were to the ground yglued; 
 Ther may no man out of the jDlace it drive 
 For non engine, of windas,'^ or polive :^ 
 And cause why, for they con not the craft, 
 And therfore in the place they han it laft, 
 Til that the knight hath taught hem the manere 
 To voiden'' him, as ye shal after here. 
 Gret was the prees, that swarmed to and fro 
 To gauren^ on this hors that stondeth so : 
 Tor it so high was, and so brod and long. 
 So wel proportioned for to be strong, 
 Eight as it were a stede of Lumbardie ; 
 Therwith so horsly, and so quik of eye, 
 
 i The flat of the sword. 2 in truth 
 
 3 Eenioved. * Windlas. Fr. guindal. 5 PuHey. 
 
 6 Eemove. "^ Gaze. 
 
286 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 10509-1054;0. 
 
 As it a gentil Poileis^ courser were : 
 For certes, fro his tayl unto his ere 
 Nature ne art ne coud him not amend 
 In no degree, as all the peple wend. 
 
 But evermore hir moste wonder was, 
 How that it coude gon, and was of bras-; 
 It was of faerie, as the peple semed. 
 Diverse folk diversely han denied ; 
 As many heds,^ as many wittes ben. 
 They murmured, as- doth a swarme of been, 
 And maden skilles^ after hir fantasies, 
 Kehersing of the olde poetries, 
 • And sayd it was ylike the Pegases, 
 The hors that hadde winges for to flee. 
 Or elles it was the Grekes hors Sinon,* 
 That broughte Troye to destruction, 
 As men moun in thise olde gestes rede. 
 
 Min herte (quod on) is evermore in drede, 
 I trow som men of armes ben therin, 
 That shapen hem'^ this citee for to win : 
 It were right good that al swiche thing were know« 
 Another rowned^ to his ielaw low. 
 And sayd, He lieth, lor it is rather like 
 An apparence ymade by som magike, 
 As jogelours plaien at thise festes grete. 
 Of sondry doutes thus they jangle and trete, 
 As lewed peple demen comunly 
 Of thinges, that ben made more subtilly, 
 Than they can in hir lewednesse'' comprehende, 
 They demen gladly to the badder ende. 
 
 And som of hem wondred on the mirrour, 
 That born was up in to the maister tour, 
 
 1 A horse of Apulia, which in old Fr. was usually called PoiUe. The 
 horses of that country were much esteemed. MS. Bod. James vi. 142. 
 Richard, Archbp. of Armagh, in the xivth century, says, in praise of our 
 St. Thomas, " quod nee mulus Hispanise, nee dextrarius Apulice, nee 
 repedo ^thiopias, nee elephantus Asiae, nee camelus Syrise hoc asino 
 nostro Anglise aptior sive audentior invenitur ad prselia." He had 
 before informed his audience, that Thomas, Anglice, idem est quod 
 Thojn. Asinus. There is a patent in Eymer, 2 E. II. De dextrariis in 
 Lumbardia emendis. — Tyrwhitt. 
 
 2 Cf, Latin proverb: " Quot homines, tot sententise." 
 
 3 Devised reasons. ^ /. e., the horse of Sinon the Greek. 
 
 5 Devise. « Whispered. 7 Ignoranca. 
 
10541-105S0. THE SQUIEEES TALE. 287 
 
 How men niiglite in it swiclie tliinges see. 
 
 Another answerd, and sayd, it might wel be 
 Natiirelly by compositions 
 Of angles, and of slie reflections ; 
 And saide that in Rome was swiche on. 
 They speke of Alhazen and Vitellon,^ 
 And Aristotle, that writen in hir lives 
 Of queinte mirrours, and of prospectives, 
 As knowen they, that han hir bookes herd. 
 
 And other folk han wondred on the swerd. 
 That wolde percen thurghout every thing: 
 And fell in speche of Telephus the king, 
 And of Achilles for his queinte spere, 
 For he coude with it bothe hele and dere,^ 
 Eight in swiche wise as men may with the swerd. 
 Of which right now ye have yourselven herd. 
 They speken of sondry harding of metall, 
 And speken of medicines therwithall. 
 And how, and whan it shnld yharded be, 
 Which is unknow algates unto me. 
 
 Tho speken they of Canac§es ring, 
 And saiden all, that swiche a wonder thing 
 Of craft of ringes herd they never non, 
 Save that he Moises and king Salomon 
 Hadden a name of conning in swiche art. 
 Thus sain the peple, and drawen hem apart. 
 
 But natheles some saiden that it was 
 Wonder to maken of feme ashen glas, 
 And yet is glas nought like ashen of feme, 
 But for they han yknowen it so feme, 
 Therfore ceseth hir jangling and hir wonder. 
 
 As sore wondren som on cause of thonder, 
 On ebbe and floud, on gossomer, and on mist, 
 And on all thing, til that the cause is wist. 
 
 Thus jangien they, and demon and devise. 
 Til that' the king gan fro his bord arise. 
 
 Phebus hath left the angle meridional. 
 And yet ascending was the beste real. 
 The gentil Leon, with his Aldrian,^ 
 Whan that this Tartre king, this Cambuscan, 
 
 1 Two writers on optics, the first about a.d. 1100, the second is said 
 so have lived till A.D. 1270. 
 
 2 Harm, wound. 3 A star on the neck of the constellation Leo, 
 
 25 
 
288 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 10581-10Gi2O. 
 
 Bose from his bord, ther as he sat fal hie : 
 Beforne him goth the loude minstralcie, 
 Till he come to his chambre of parements,* 
 Ther as they sounden divers instruments, 
 That it is like an heven for to here. 
 
 Now dauncen lusty Yenus children dere : 
 For in the fish^ hir lady set ful hie, 
 And loketh on hem with a frendly eye. 
 
 This noble king is set upon his trone ; 
 This straunge knight is fet^ to him ful sone, 
 And on the daunee he goth with Canace. 
 
 Here is the revell and the jolitee, 
 That is not able a dull man to devise : 
 He must han knowen love and his servise, 
 And ben a festlich man, as fresh as JMay, 
 That shulde you devisen swiche array. 
 
 Who coude tellen you the forme of daunces 
 So uncouth, and so freshe contenaunces, 
 Swiche subtil lokings and dissimulings, 
 .For dred of jalous mennes apperceivings ? 
 No man but Launcelot, and he is ded. 
 Therfore I passe over all this lustyhed, 
 I say no more, but in this jolinesse 
 1 lete hem, til men to the souper hem dresse. 
 
 The steward bit* the spices for to hie^ 
 And eke the win, in all this melodic; 
 The ushers and the squierie ben gon, 
 The spices and the win is come anon : 
 They ete and drinke, and whan this had an end, 
 Unto the temple, as reson was, they wend: 
 The service don, they soupen all by day. 
 
 What nedeth you rehersen hir array ? 
 Eche man wot wel, that at a kinges fest 
 Is plentee, to the most and to the lest, 
 And deintees mo than ben in my knowing. 
 
 At after souper goth this noble king 
 To seen this hors of bras, with all a route 
 Of lordes and of ladies him aboute. 
 Swiche wondring was ther on this hors of bras, 
 That sin the gret assege of Troye was, 
 
 1 Presence chamber. Cf. vs. 2513. 
 » I. e., the " exaltation " of Venus was in the constellation Pisces, 
 » Fetched. 4 Biddeth. s Hasten. 
 
IU621-106G0. THE SQUIEEES TALE. 289 
 
 Ther as men wondred on an liors also, 
 Ne was tlier swiche a wondring, as was tlio. 
 But finally the king asketli the kniglit 
 The vertue of this courser, and the might, 
 And praied him to tell his governaunce. 
 
 This hors anon gan for to trip and daunee, 
 Whan that the knight laid hond up on his rein. 
 And saide, sire, ther n'is no more to sain. 
 But whan you list to riden any where, 
 Ye moten trilP a pin, stant in his ere, 
 Which I shal tellen you betwixt us two, 
 Ye moten nempne- him to what jjlace also, 
 
 i Or to what contree that you list to ride. 
 
 fe And whan ye come ther as you list abide, 
 
 r Bid him descend, and trill another pin, 
 (For therin lieth the eifect of all the gin) 
 And he wol doun descend and don your will, 
 And in that place he wol abiden still : 
 Though al the world had the contrary swore. 
 He shal not thennes be drawe ne be iDore. 
 Or if you list to bid him thennes gon, 
 Trille this pin, and he wol vanish anon 
 Out of the sight of every maner wight, 
 And come agen, be it by day or night, 
 Whan that you list to clepen him again 
 In swiche a guise, as I shal to you sain 
 
 H Betwixen you and me, and that ful sone. 
 
 r Eide whan you list, ther n'is no more to done, 
 Enfourmed whan the king was of the knigh^ 
 And hath conceived in his wit aright 
 The maner and the forme of all this thing, 
 Ful glad and blith, this noble doughty king 
 Bepaireth to his revel, as beforne. 
 The bridel is in to the tour yborne, 
 And kept among his jewels lefe and dere ; 
 The hors vanisht, I n'ot in what manere. 
 Out of hir sight, ye get no more of me: 
 But thus I lete in lust and jolitee 
 This Cambuscan his lordes festeying, 
 Til that wel nigh the day began to S23ring. 
 
 1 Twirl, turn round. 2 Tell, 
 
290' THE CANTERDURY TALES. 10661-10G92. 
 
 PAHS SECUNDA. 
 
 Tlie norice^ of digestion, the slepe, 
 Oan on hem winke, and bad hem taken keps, 
 That mocheP drink, and labour wol have rest: 
 And with a galping^ mouth hem all he kest, 
 And said, that it was time to lie adoun, 
 Tor blood was in his dominatioun :* 
 Cherisheth blood, natures frend, quod he. 
 
 They thanken him galping, by two by three; 
 And every wight gan drawe him to his rest, 
 As slepe hem bade, they toke it for the best. 
 
 Hir dremes shul not now be told for me; 
 Ful were hir hedes of fumositee, 
 That causeth dreme, of which ther is no charge. 
 They slepen til that it was prime large, 
 The moste part, but it were Canace ; 
 She was ful mesurable,-^ as women be. 
 For of hire father had she take hire lev© 
 To gon to rest, sone after it was eve ; 
 Hire liste not appalled for to be, 
 IsTor on the morwe unfestliche for to see ; 
 And slept hire firste slepe, and than awoke. 
 For swiche a joye she in hire lierte toke 
 Both of hire queinte ring, and of hire mirroiir, 
 That twenty time she chaunged hire colour ; 
 And in hire slepe right for the impression 
 Of hire mirrour she had a vision. 
 Wherfore, or that the sonne gan up glide, 
 She clepeth upon hire maistresse hire beside. 
 And saide, that hire luste for to arise. 
 
 Thise olde women, that ben gladly wise. 
 As is hire maistresse, answered hire anon. 
 And said ; Madame, v/hider wol ye gon 
 
 1 Nurse. 
 2 That mochel drinke and labour] So MSS. C. 1. HA, In MS. A. it 
 
 is. That mirthe and labour. In Ask. 1. 2. That after moche laboior. In 
 
 several other MSS. and Editt. Ca. 1. 2. That moche mete and labour. 
 
 Y"v'e must search further, I apprehend, for the trlie reading. — Tyrwhiit. 
 
 3 Gaping, yawning. 
 
 4 Galen says that blood is in its domination for seven hours, viz., from 
 
 the ninth hour of night to the tliird of day. — See Tyrwhitt. 
 
 5 Moderate. 
 
10693-10733. THE SQUIERES TALE. 291 
 
 Thus erly ? for tlie folk ben all in rest. 
 
 I wol, quod she, arisen (for me lest 
 No longer for to slepe) and walken aboute. 
 
 Hire maistresse clepeth women a gret route. 
 And up they risen, wel a ten or twelve ; 
 Up riseth freshe Canace hireselve, 
 As rody and bright, as the yonge sonne, 
 That in the ram is foure degrees 3a'onne ; 
 No higher was he, whan she redy was j 
 And forth she walketh esily a pas, 
 Arrayed after the lusty seson sote^ 
 Lightely for to playe, and walken on fote, 
 Nought but with five or sixe of hire meinie ; 
 And in a trenche forth in the j)ark goth she. 
 
 The vapour, which that fro the erthe glode, 
 Maketh the sonne to seme rody and brode : 
 But natheles, it was so faire a sight, 
 That it made all hir hertes for to light, 
 What for the seson, and the morwening, 
 And for the foules that she herde sing. 
 For right anon she wiste what they ment 
 Eight by hir song, and knew all hir entent. ■ 
 
 The knotte,2 why that every tale is tolde, 
 If it be taried tU the lust be eolde 
 Of hem, that han it herkened after yore, 
 The savour passeth ever lenger the more, 
 For fulsumnesse of the prolixitee : 
 And by that same reson thinketh me 
 I shuld unto the knotte condescende, 
 And maken of hire walking sone an ende. 
 
 Amidde a tree for-dry,^ as white as chalk, 
 As Canace was playing in hire walk, 
 Ther sat a faucon over hu-e hed ful hie, 
 That with a pitous vols so gan to crie. 
 That all the wood resouned of hire cry, 
 And beten had hireself so pitously 
 With bothe hire winges, til the rede blood 
 Kan endelong the tree, ther as she stood. 
 And ever in on alway she cried and shright,^ 
 And with hire bek hireselven she so twight,* 
 
 1 Sweet. 
 
 2 I. e., the main event, the development of the story. 
 
 3 Full dry. For is frequently intensive in corapositioa. 
 
 4 Shrieked. 5 plucked, mangled. 
 
292 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 10733-10772. 
 
 That ther n'is tigre, ne no cruel "best, 
 That clwelleth other in wood, or in forest, 
 That n'olde han wept, if that he wepen coude, 
 For sorwe of hire, she shright alway so loiide. 
 
 For ther was never yet no man on live, 
 If that he coude a faucon wel descrive, 
 That herde of swiehe another of tayreness© 
 As wel of jDlumage, as of gentilesse. 
 Of shape, of all that might yrekened be. 
 A faucon peregrine semed she 
 Of fremde lond,^ and ever as she stood, 
 She swouned now and now for lack of blood. 
 Til wel neigh is she fallen fro the tree. 
 
 This faire hinges doughter Canace, 
 That on hire finger bare the queinte rhig, 
 Thurgh which she understood wel every thing 
 That any foule may in his leden sain, 
 And coude answere him in his leden- again, 
 Hath understonden what this faucon seyd, 
 And wel neigh for the routhe almost she deyd: 
 And to the tree she goth ful hastily, 
 And on this faucon loketh pitously, 
 And held hire lap abrode, for wel she wist 
 The faucon muste fallen from the twist'^ 
 Whan that she swouned next, for faute"* of blood, 
 A longe while to waiten hire she stood, 
 Til at the last she spake in this manere 
 Unto the hauk, as ye shul after here. 
 
 What is the cause, if it be for to tell, 
 That ye ben in this furial peine of hell ? 
 Quod Canace unto this hauk above ; 
 Is this for sorwe of deth, or losse of love 1 
 For as I trow, thise be the causes two, 
 That causen most a gentil herte wo. 
 Of other harme it nedeth not to speke, 
 For ye yourself upon yourself awreke, 
 Which preveth wel, that other ire or drede 
 Mote ben encheson^ of your cruel dede, 
 Sin that I se non other wight you chace. 
 For the love of God, as doth yourselven grace; 
 
 1 The same as " peregrine,' i. e.. from a strange country. 
 
 2 Language, a corruption of Laiiu 
 
 3 Twig, branch. ^ In default. ° Occasion. 
 
10773-10814. THE SQUIERES TALE. 292 
 
 Or what may be your helpe 1 for west ne est 
 
 Ne saw I never er now no brid ne best, 
 
 That ferde with himself so pitously. 
 
 Ye sle me with your sorwe veraily, 
 
 I have of you so gret compassioun. 
 
 For Goddes love come fro the tree adoun; 
 
 And as I am a kinges doughter trewe, 
 
 If that I veraily the causes knewe 
 
 Of your disese, if it lay in my might, 
 
 I wold amend it, or that it were night. 
 
 As wisly helj) me the gret God of kind. 
 
 And herbes shal I right ynough yfind, 
 
 To helen with your hurtes hastily. 
 
 Tho^ shright this faucon yet more pitously 
 Than ever she did, and fell to ground anon, 
 And lith aswoune, as ded as lith a ston, 
 Til Canace hath in hire" lappe hire take, 
 Unto that time she gan of swoune awake : 
 And after that she out of swoune abraide, 
 Bight in hire haukes leden^ thus she sayde. 
 
 That pitee renneth sone in gentil herte 
 (Feling his similitude in peines smerte) 
 Is proved alle day, as men may see, 
 As wel by werke as by auctoritee, 
 For gentil herte kitheth^ gentillesse. 
 I see wel, that ye have on my distresse 
 Compassion, my faire Canace, 
 Of veray womanly benignitee. 
 That nature in your principles hath set. 
 But for non hope for to fare the bet, 
 But for to obey unto your herte free. 
 And for to maken other yware by me, 
 As by the whelpe chastised is the leon. 
 Eight for that cause and that conclusion, 
 "While that I have a leiser and a space, 
 Min harme I wol confessen er I pace. 
 And ever while that on hire sorwe told, 
 That other wept, as she to water wold. 
 Til that the faucon bad hire to be still. 
 And with a sike'* right thus she said hire till. 
 
 Ther I was bred, (alas that ilke day !) 
 And fostred in a roche^ of marble gray 
 
 1 Then. 2 Voice. 
 
 4 Sigh. 5 Kock. 
 
294 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 10815-10858. 
 
 So tendrely, that nothing ailed me. 
 I ne wist not what was adversitee, 
 Til T coud flee ful high under the skie. 
 
 Tho dwelled a tercelet^ me faste by. 
 That semed welle of alle gentillesse, 
 Al were he ful of treson and falsenesse. 
 It was so wrapped under humble chere, 
 And under hew of trouth in swiche manere, 
 Under plesance, and under besy peine, 
 That no wight coud have wend he coude feina, 
 So depe in greyn he died his coloures. 
 Eight as a serpent hideth him under floures. 
 Til he may see his time for to bite ; 
 Bight so this god of loves hypocrite 
 Both so his ceremonies and obeisance, 
 And kepeth in semblaunt alle his observance. 
 That sounetb unto^ gentillesse of love. 
 As on a tombe is all the faire above, 
 And under is the corps, swiche as ye wote ; 
 Swiche was this hypocrite both cold and hote, 
 And in this wise he served his entent. 
 That, save the fend, non wiste what he ment : 
 Til he so long had weped and complained, 
 And many a yere his service to me fainedj 
 Till that min herte, to pitous and to nice, 
 Al innocent of his crowned malice, 
 Tor-fered of his deth, as thoughte me, 
 Upon his othes and his seuretee, 
 Graunted him love, on this conditioun, 
 That evermo min honour and renoun 
 "Were saved, bothe privee and apert ; 
 This is to say, that, after his desert, 
 I yave him all min herte and all my thought, 
 (God wote, and he, that other wayes nought) 
 And toke his herte in chaunge of min for ay. 
 But soth is said, gon sithen is many a day, 
 A trewo wight and a theef thinken not on. 
 
 And whan he saw the thing so fer ygon, 
 That I had granted him fully my love. 
 In swiche a guise as I have said above, 
 And yeven him my trewe herte as free 
 As he swore that he yaf his herte to me. 
 Anon this tigre, ful of doublenesse, 
 Fell on his knees with so gret humblesse, 
 1 A male hawk, 2 jg consonant to. 
 
10859-10900. THE SQUIERES TALE. 205 
 
 With so liigli reverence, as by his cherc, 
 So like a gentil lover of manere, 
 So ravished, as it semed, for the joye, 
 That never Jason, ne Paris of Troye, 
 Jason ? certes, ne never other man, 
 Sin Lamech was, that alderfirst began 
 To loven two, as writen folk beforne, 
 Ne never sithen the first man was borne, 
 Ne coude man by twenty thousand part 
 Contrefete the sophimes of his art ; 
 Ne were worthy to unbocle his galoche,' 
 Ther doublenesse of faining shuld approche^ 
 Ne conde so thanke a wight, as he did me. 
 His manor was an lieven for to see 
 To any woman, were she never so wise ; 
 So jDainted he and kempt, at point devise, 
 As wel his wordes, as his contenance. 
 And I so loved him for his obeisance, 
 And for the tronthe I demed in his herte, 
 That if so were that anything him smerte, 
 Al were it never so lite, and I it wist. 
 Me thought I felt deth at myn herte twist. 
 And shortly, so ferforth this thing is went. 
 That my will was his willes instrument ; 
 This is to say, my will obeied his will 
 In alle thing, as fer as reson fill, 
 Keping the boundes of my worship ever 5 
 Ne never had I thing so lefe, ne lever, 
 As him, God wot, ne never shal no mo. 
 
 This lasteth lenger than a yere or two, 
 That I supposed of him nought but good. 
 But finally, thus at the last it stood, 
 That fortune wolde that he muste twin^ 
 Out of that place, which that I was in. 
 "Wher me was wo, it is no question ; 
 I cannot make of it description. 
 For o thing dare I tellen boldely, 
 I know what is the peine of deth therby, • 
 Swiche harme I felt, for he ne might byleve. 
 
 So on a day of me he toke his leve, 
 So sorweful eke, that I wend veraily, 
 That he had felt as mochel harme as I, 
 
 1 Shoe. 2 Depart. 
 
296 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 10901-109i4f. 
 
 Whan that I herd him speke, and saw his hewe. 
 
 But natheles, I thought he was so trewe, 
 
 And eke that he repairen shuld again 
 
 Within a litel while, soth to sain, 
 
 And reson wold eke that he muste go 
 
 For his honour, as often happeth so, 
 
 That I made vertue of necessitee, 
 
 And toke it wel, sin that it muste be. 
 
 As I best might, I hid fro him my sorwe, 
 
 And toke him by the hond, Seint John to borwe, 
 
 And said him thus ; lo, I am youres all, 
 
 Beth swiche as I have ben to you and shall. 
 
 What he answerd, it nedeth not reherse ; 
 Who can say bet than he, who can do werse ? 
 Whan he hath al wel said, than hath he done. 
 Therfore behoveth him a ful long spone, 
 That shal ete with a fend ; thus herd I say. 
 
 So at the last he muste forth his way, 
 And forth he fleeth, til he come ther him lest. 
 Whan it came him to purpos for to rest, 
 I trow that he had thilke text in mind. 
 That alle thing repairing to his kind 
 Gladeth himself; thus sain men as I gesse : 
 Men loven of propre kind newefangelnesse. 
 As briddes don, that men in cages fede. 
 For though thou night and day take of hem hede. 
 And strew hir cage faire and soft as silk. 
 And give hem sugre, hony, bred, and milke, 
 Yet right anon as that his dore is up. 
 He with his feet wol spurnen doun his cup, 
 And to the wood he wol, and wormes ete; 
 So newefangel ben they of hir mete, 
 And loven noveltees of propre kind ; 
 No gentillesse of blood ne may hem bind. 
 
 So ferd this tercel et, alas the day ! 
 Though he were gentil borne, and fresh and gay, 
 And goodly for to seen, and humble, and tree, 
 He saw upon a time a kite flee. 
 And sodenly he loved this kite so. 
 That all his love is clene fro me ago ; 
 And hath his trouthe falsed in this wise. 
 Thus hath the kite my love in hire service, 
 And I am lorn withouten remedy. 
 
 And with that word this faucon gan to cry, 
 
10945-10984. THE SQUIERES TALE. 297 
 
 And swoimeth eft in Canacees barme.* 
 Gret was the sorwe for that haukes harme, 
 That Canace and all hire women made ; 
 They n'isten" how they might the faucon glado. 
 But Canace horn bereth hire in hire lap. 
 And softely in piastres gan hire wrap, 
 Ther as she with her bek had hurt hireselve. 
 
 Now cannot Canace but herbes delve 
 Out of the ground, and maken salves newe 
 Of herbes precious and fine of hewe, 
 To helen with this hauk ; fro day to night 
 She doth hire besinesse, and all hire might. 
 And by hu^e beddes hed she made a mew,-"* 
 And covered it with velouettes^ blew, 
 In signe of trouth, that is in woman seno ; 
 And all without the mew is peinted grene, 
 In which were peinted all thise false foules. 
 As ben thise tidifes,^ tercelettes, and owles ; 
 And pies, on hem for to cry and chide, 
 Eight for despit were peinted hem beside. 
 
 Thus lete I Canace hire hauk keping. 
 I wol no more as now speke of hire ring, 
 Til it come eft to purpos for to sain. 
 How that this faucon gat hire love again 
 Eepentant, as the story telleth us, 
 By mediation of Camballus 
 The kinges sone, of which that I you told. 
 But hennesforth I wol my processe hold 
 To speke of aventures, and of batailles, 
 That yet was never herd so gret mervailics. 
 
 First wol I tellen you of Cambuscan, 
 That in his time many a citee wan: 
 And after wol I speke of Algarsif, 
 How that he wan Theodora to his wif, 
 For whom ful oft in gret p'eril he was, 
 Ne had he ben holpen by the hors of bras. 
 And after wol I sj)eke of Camballo, 
 That fought in listes with the brethren two 
 For Canace, er that he might hire winne, 
 And ther I left I wol again beginne. 
 * * * «*^*«« 
 
 1 Lap, 2 Knew not. 
 
 3 Cage. 4 Velvets. 
 
 5 Mentioned also in the Legend of Good Women, vs. 154, as an incon- 
 stant bird. 
 
298 , 
 THE FRANKELEINES PKOLOGUE. 
 
 10985-11016. 
 
 In faitli, sqtiier, thou hast thee wel yquit 
 
 And gentilly, I preise wel thy wit, 
 
 Quod the Frankelein ; considering thin youthe, 
 
 So felingiy thou spekest, sire, I aloue'^ the 
 
 As to my dome,^ ther is non that is here, 
 
 Of eloquence that shal be thy pere. 
 
 If that thou live ; God yeve thee goode chance, 
 
 And in vertue send thee continuance, 
 
 For of thy speking I have gret deintee. 
 
 I have a sone, and by the Trinitee 
 
 It were me lever than twenty pound worth lond, 
 
 Though it right now were fallen in my hond, 
 
 He were a man of swiche discretion, 
 
 As that ye ben : fie on possession, 
 
 But if a man be vertuous withal. 
 
 I have my sone snibbed,^ and yet shal. 
 
 For he to vertue listeth not to entend, 
 
 But for to play at dis, and to dispend. 
 
 And lese all that he hath, is his usage; 
 
 And he had lever talken with a page, 
 
 Than to commune with any gentil wight, 
 
 Ther he might leren gentillesse aright. 
 
 Straw for your gentillesse, quod our hoste. 
 "What ] Frankelein, parde, sire, wel thou wost, 
 That eche of you mote tellen at the lest 
 A tale or two, or breken his behest. 
 That know I wel, sire, quod the Frankelein, 
 I pray you haveth me not in disdein. 
 Though I to this man speke a word or two. 
 
 Tell on thy tale, withouten wordes mo. 
 
 Gladly, sire hoste, quod he, I wol obey 
 Cnto your will; now herkeneth what I sey; 
 
 1 Allow. 2 Judgment. 3 Snubbed, reproved. 
 
11017-11050. THE FEANKELEINES TALE. 290 
 
 I wol you not contrarien in no wise, 
 As fer as that my wittes may suffice. 
 I pray to God that it may plesen you, 
 Than wot I wel that it is good ynow. 
 
 Thise olde gentil Bretons^ in hir dayes 
 Of diverse aventures maden layes, 
 Eimeyed in hir firste Breton tonge ; 
 Which layes with hir instruments they songe, 
 Or elles redden hem for hu' plesance, 
 And on of hem have I in remembrance, 
 Which I shal sayn with good wille as I can. 
 
 But, su-es, because I am a boreP man, 
 At my beginning first I you beseche 
 Have me excused of my rude speche. 
 I lerned never rhetorike certain ; 
 Thing that I speke, it mote be bare and plain, 
 I slept never on the mount of Pernaso, 
 Ne lerned Marcus Tullius Cicero. 
 Colours ne know I non, withouten drede, 
 But swiche colours as growen in the mede, 
 Or elles swiche as men die with or peinte ; 
 Colours of rhetorike ben to me queinte ; 
 My spirit feleth not of swiche matere. 
 But if you lust my tale shul ye here. 
 
 In Armorike, that called is Bretaigne, 
 
 Ther was a knight, that loved and did his peins 
 
 To serve a ladie in his beste wise ; 
 
 And many a labour, many a gret emprise 
 
 He for his lady wrought, or she were wonne : 
 
 For she was on the fanest under sonne. 
 
 And eke therto comen of so high kinrede, 
 
 That wel unnethes'^ durst this knight for drede 
 
 Tell hire his wo, his peine, and his distresse. 
 
 But at the last, she for his worthinesse, 
 
 1 See Tyrwhitt's note, and Discourse, n. 24. 
 
 2 Rude, plain. 3 Uneasily. 
 
 2G 
 
300 THE CANTERBURY TALES. liOol-] 
 
 And namely for his meke obeysance, 
 
 Hath swiche a pitee caught of his penance, 
 
 That prively she fell of his accord 
 
 To take him for hire husbond and hire lord ; 
 
 (Of swiche lordship as men han over hir •wives) 
 
 And, for to lede the more in blisse hir lives, 
 
 Of his free will he swore hire as a knight,' 
 
 That never in all his lif he day ne night 
 
 Ne shulde take upon him no maistrie 
 
 Agains hire will, ne kitlie^ hire jalousie, 
 
 But hire obey, and folwe hire will in al, 
 
 As any lover to his lady shal : 
 
 Save that the name of soverainetee 
 
 That wold he han for shame of his degree. 
 
 She thonked him, and with ful gret humblesso 
 
 She saide ; sire, sin of your gentillesse 
 
 Ye profren me to have so large a reine, 
 
 Ne wolde God never betwix us tweine, 
 
 As in my gilt, were either werre or strif : 
 
 Sire, I wol be your humble trewe wif. 
 
 Have here my trouth, til that myn herte brcsts. 
 
 Thus ben they both in quiete and in reste. 
 
 For o thing, sires, saufly dare I seie, 
 That frendes everich other must obeie. 
 If they wol longe holden compagnie. 
 Love wol not be constreined by maistrie. 
 Whan maistrie cometh, the God of love anoa 
 Beteth^ his winges, and farewel, he is gon. 
 Love is a thing, as any spirit, free. 
 Women of kind desiren libertee, 
 And not to be constreined as a thral ; 
 And so don men, if sothly I say shal. 
 Loke who that is most patient in love, 
 He is at his avantage all above. 
 Patience is an high vertue certain, 
 For it venquisheth, as thise clerkes sain, 
 Thinges that rigour never shulde atteine. 
 For every word men may not chide or pleine, 
 Lerneth to suflren, or, so mote T gon, 
 Ye shul it lerne whether ye wol or non. 
 For in this world certain no wight ther is. 
 That he ne doth or sayth somtime amis. 
 
 1 Shew. 2 Maketh ready. 
 
11093-11132. THE FRANKELEINES TALE. 301 
 
 Ire, sikenesse, or constellation, 
 Win, wo, or changing of complexion, 
 Causeth ful oft to don amis or speken ." 
 On every wrong a man may not be wreken. 
 After tlie time must be temperance 
 To every wight that can of governance. 
 And therfore hath this worthy wise knight 
 (To liven in ese) sufFrance hire behight ; 
 And she to him ful wisly gan to swere. 
 That never shnld ther be defante in liere. 
 
 Here may men seen an humble wise accord: 
 Thus hath she take hu^e servant and hire lord. 
 Servant in love, and lord in mariage. 
 Than was lie botli in lordship and servage I 
 Servage ? nay, but in lordship al above, 
 Sin lie hath, both his lady and his love : 
 His lady certes, and his wif also. 
 The which that law of love accordeth to. 
 And whan he was in this prosperitee. 
 Home with his wif he goth to his contree, 
 Not fer fro Penmark,^ ther his dwelling was, 
 Wher as he liveth in blisse and in solas. 
 
 Who coude tell, but he had wedded be, 
 The joye, the ese, and the j)rosperitee. 
 That is betwix an husbond and his wif ? 
 A yere and more lasteth this blisful lif!, 
 Til that this knight, of which I spake of thus, 
 That of Cairrud^ was cleped Arviragus, 
 Shope him to gon and dwelle a yere or twaine 
 In Englelond, that cleped was eke Bretaigne, 
 To seke in armes worship and honour : 
 (For all his lust he set in swiche labour) 
 And dwelte ther two yere ; the book saith thus. 
 
 Now wol I stint of this Arviragus, 
 And speke I wol of Dorigene^ his wif, 
 That loveth hire husbond as hire hertes lif. 
 For his absence wepeth she and siketh, 
 As don thise noble wives whan hem liketh ; 
 She morneth, waketh, waileth, fasteth, pleineth f 
 Desir of his presence hire so distraineth, 
 
 1 Upon the western coast of Bretagne, between Brest and Port 
 L'Orient. It is derived from Pen, a mountain, and Mark, a boundary. 
 
 2 Also a British word, signifying the Bed Citij. 
 
 3 Droguen, or Dorguen, was the name of the wife oi" Alain I. — 
 TyrwJiitt. "* Lamenteth. 
 
302 THE CANTERBITKY TALES. 11133-11174. 
 
 That all this wide world she set at nought. 
 Hire frendes, which that knew hire hevy thought, 
 Comforten hire in all that ever they may ; 
 They preehen hire, they telle hire night and day, 
 That causeles she sleth hireself* alas ! 
 And every comfort possible in this cas 
 They don to hire, with all hir besinesse, 
 Al for to make hire leve hire hevinesse. 
 
 By processe, as ye knowen everich on. 
 Men mowe so longe graven in a ston, 
 Til som figure therin emprented be : 
 So long han they comforted hire, til sho 
 Received hath, by hope and by reson. 
 The emprenting of hir consolation, 
 Thurgh which hire grete sorwe gan assuage ; 
 She may not alv^ay duren in swiche rage. 
 And eke Arviragus, in all this care, 
 Hath sent his lettres home of his welfare, 
 And that he wol come hastily again, 
 Or elles had this sorwe hire herte slain. 
 
 Hire frendes saw hire sorwe gan to slake, 
 And preiden hire on knees for Goddes sake, 
 To come and romen in hir compagnie, 
 Away to driven hire derke fantasie : 
 And finally she granted that request, 
 Tor wel she saw that it was for the best. 
 
 ISTovf stood hire castel faste by the see, 
 And often with hire frendes walked she, 
 Hire to disporten on the bank an hie, 
 "Wher as she many a ship and barge sie, 
 Sailing hir cours, wher as hem list to go. 
 But than was that a parcel of hire wo, 
 For to hireself ful oft, alas ! said she, 
 Is ther no ship, of so many as I see, 
 Wol bringen home my lordl than were m^ Iierfce 
 Al warished^ of his bitter peines smerte. 
 
 Another time v/old she sit and thinke, 
 And cast her eyen do un ward fro the brinke ; 
 But whan she saw the grisly rockes blake, 
 For veray fere so wold hire herte quake, 
 That on hire feet she might hire not sustene. 
 Than wold she sit adoun upon the grene, 
 
11175-11216. THE FRANKELEINES TALE. 303 
 
 And pitously into tlie see behold, 
 
 And say right thus, with careful sikes^ cold. 
 
 Eterne God, that thurgh thy purveance 
 Ledest this world by certain governance, 
 In idel,2 as men sain, ye nothing make. 
 But, lord, thise grisly fendly rockes blake, 
 That semen rather a foule confusion 
 Of werk, than any faire creation 
 Of swiche a parfit wise God and stable, 
 "Why han ye wrought this werk unresonable ? 
 For by this werk, north, south, ne west, ne estc, 
 Ther n'is yfostred man, ne brid, ne best- 
 It doth no good, to my wit, but anoyeth. 
 See ye not, lord, how mankind it destroyeth ? 
 An hundred thousand bodies of mankind 
 Han rockes slain, al be they not in mind ; 
 Which mankind is so faire part of thy werk, 
 Thou madest it like to thyn owen merk. 
 Than, semeth it, ye had a gret chertee 
 Toward mankind ; but how than may it be. 
 That ye swiche menes make it to destroyen? 
 "Which menes don no good, but ever anoyen. 
 
 I wote wel, clerkes wol sain as hem lest 
 By arguments, that all is for the best, 
 Though T ne can the causes nought yknow ; 
 But thilke God that made the wind to blow. 
 As kepe my lord, this is my conclusion : 
 To clerkes lete I all disputison: 
 But wolde God, that all thise rockes blake 
 Were sonken into helle for his sake. 
 Thise rockes slee min herte for the fere. 
 Thus wold she say with many a pitous tere. 
 
 Hire frendes saw that it was no disport 
 To romen by the see, but discomfort, 
 And shape hem for to plaien somwher elles. 
 They leden hire by rivers and by welles. 
 And eke in other places delitables ; 
 They dancen and they play at ches and tables. 
 
 So on a day, right in the morwe tide, 
 Unto a gardin that was ther beside, 
 In which that they had made hir ordinance 
 Of vitaille, and of other purveance, 
 
 1 Anxious sighs. 2 Vain. 
 
304 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 11317-11258. 
 
 They gon and plaie hem all the longe day: 
 
 And this was on the sixte morwe of May, 
 
 Which May had peinted with his softe shonres 
 
 This gardin ful of leves and of floures : 
 
 And craft of mannes hond so curiously 
 
 Arrayed had this gardin trewely, 
 
 That never was ther gardin of swiche pris, 
 
 But if it were the veray paradis. 
 
 The odour of floures, and the freshe sight, 
 
 "Wold han ymaked any herte light 
 
 That ever was born, but if to gret sikenesse 
 
 Or to gret sorwe held it in distresse, 
 
 So ful it was of beautee and plesance. 
 
 And after dinner gonnen they to dance 
 And sing also, sauf Dorigene alone, 
 Which made alway hire complaint and hire moce. 
 For she ne saw him on the dance go, 
 That was hire husbond, and hire love also : 
 But nathlees she must a time abide. 
 And with good hope let hire sorwe slide. 
 
 Upon this dance, amonges other men, 
 Danced a squier before Dorigen, 
 That fresher was and jolier of array. 
 As to my dome,^ than is the month of May. 
 He singeth, danceth, passing any man. 
 That is or was sin that the world began : 
 Therwith he was, if men shuld him discrive, 
 On of the beste faring men on live, 
 Yong, strong, and virtuous, and riche, and wise. 
 And wel beloved, and holden in gret prise. 
 And shortly, if the soth I tellen shal, 
 Unweting of this Dorigene at al, 
 This lusty squier, servant to Venus, 
 Which that ycleped was Aurelius, 
 Had loved hire best of any creature 
 Two yere and more, as was his aventure: 
 But never dorst he tell hire his grevance, 
 Withouten cup he dranke all his penance. 
 He was dispeired, nothing dorst he say, 
 Sauf in his songes somwhat wold he wray^ 
 His wo, as in a general complaining ; 
 He said, he loved, and was beloved nothing. 
 
 1 la my opinion. 2 Betray. 
 
11259-11298. THE FRANKELEINES TALE. 305 
 
 Of swiche matere made lie many layes, 
 Songes, complaintes, roundels, virelayes i 
 How that he dorste not his sorwe telle, 
 But languisheth, as doth a furie^ in lielle ; 
 And die he must, he said, as did Ecco 
 For Narcissus, that dorst not tell hire wo. 
 
 In other maner than ye here me say, 
 Ne dorst he not to hire his wo bewray," 
 Sauf that paraventure somtime at dances, 
 Ther yonge folk kepen hir observances. 
 It may wel be he loked on hire face 
 In swiche a wise, as man that axeth grace, 
 But nothing wiste she of his entent. 
 Natheles it happed, or they thennes went, 
 Because that he was hire neighebour, 
 And was a man of worship and honour, 
 And had yknowen him of time yore, 
 They fell in speche, and forth ay more and more 
 Unto his purpos drow Aurelius ; 
 And whan he saw his time, he saide thus. 
 Madame, quod he, by God that this world made, 
 So that I wist it might your herte glade, 
 I wold that day, that your Arviragus 
 Went over see, that I Aurelius 
 Had went ther I shuld never come again ; 
 For wel I wot my service is in vain, 
 My guerdon n'is but bresting of min herte. 
 Madame, rueth upon my peines smerte. 
 For with a word ye may me sleen or save. 
 Here at your feet God wold that I were grave.^ 
 I ne have as now no leiser more to sey : 
 Have mercy, swete, or ye wol do me dey. 
 
 She gan to loke upon Aurelius; 
 Is this your will (quod she) and say ye thus ? 
 Never erst (quod she) ne wist I what ye ment: 
 But now, Aurelie, I know your entent. 
 By thilke God that yaf me soule and lif, 
 Ne shal I never ben an untrewe wif 
 In word ne werk, as fer as I have wit, 
 I wol ben his to whom that I am knit : 
 
 1 Some MSS. read " fire." Neither word gives much meaning. 
 Should it be, " as doth afende in helle "? 
 
 2 Discover. 3 Buried. 
 
306 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 11299-11340. 
 
 Take this lor final answer as of me. 
 But after that in play thus saide she. 
 
 Aurelie (quod she) by high God above 
 Yet wol I granten you to ben your love, 
 (Sin I you see so pitously complaine) 
 Loke, what day that endelong Bretaigne 
 Ye remue all the rockes, ston by ston, 
 That they ne letten^ ship ne bote to gon, 
 I say, whan ye han made the cost so clen© 
 Of rockes, that ther n'is no ston ysene, 
 Than wol I love you best of any man, 
 Have here my trouth, in all that ever I can ; 
 For wel I wote that it shal never betide. 
 Let swiche folie out of your herte glide. 
 What deintee shuld a man have in his lif 
 Tor to go love another mannes wif, 
 That hath hire body whan that ever him liketht 
 
 Aurelius ful often sore siketh ; 
 Is ther non other grace in you ? quod he. 
 
 No, by that lord, quod she, that maked me. 
 Wo was Aurelie whan that he this herd. 
 And with a sorweful herte he thus answerd. 
 
 Madame, quod he, this were an impossible. 
 Than moste I die of soden deth horrible. 
 And with that word he turned him anon. 
 
 Tho come hire other frendes many on, 
 And in the alleyes romed up and doun. 
 And nothing wist of this conclusioun, 
 But sodenly begonnen revel newe, 
 Til that the brighte sonne had lost his hewe, 
 For the orizont had reft the sonne his light j 
 (This is as much to sayn as it was night) 
 And home they gon in mirthe and in solas ; 
 Sauf only wrecche Aurelius, alas ! 
 He to his hous is gon with sorweful herte. 
 He saith, he may not from his deth asterte. 
 Him semeth, that he felt his herte cold. 
 "Up to the heven his hondes gan he hold, 
 And on his knees bare he set him doun, 
 And in his raving said his orisoun. 
 For veray wo out of his wit he braide,^ 
 He n'iste what he spake, but thus he saide ; 
 
 1 Hinder. ^ Ban out of his senses. 
 
lLa41-115S3. THE FRANKELEINES T-ALE. 307 
 
 With pitoiis herte his plaint hath he begonue 
 
 Unto the gocldes, and first unto the sonne. 
 
 He said ; Apollo, God and governoiir 
 
 Of every plante, herbe, tree, and flour. 
 
 That yevest after thy declination 
 
 To eche of hem his time and his seson, 
 
 As that thin herbergh^ changeth low and hie ; 
 
 Lord Phebus, cast thy merciable eie 
 
 On wi-ecche Aurelie, which that am but lorne, 
 
 Lo, lord, my lady hath my deth ysworne 
 
 Withouten gilt, but thy benignitee 
 
 Upon my dedly herte have som pitee. 
 
 For wel I wot, lord Phebus, if you lest. 
 
 Ye may me helpen, sauf my lady, best. 
 
 Now voucheth sauf, that I may you devise 
 
 How that I may be holpe and in what wise. 
 
 Your blisful suster, Lucina the shene, 
 That of the see is chief goddesse and quene. 
 Though Neptunus have deitee in the see, 
 Yet emperice aboven him is she : 
 Ye knowe wel, lord, that right as hire desire 
 Is to be quiked^ and lighted of your fire. 
 For which she folweth you ful besily, 
 Right so the see desireth naturelly 
 To folwen hire, as she that is goddesse 
 Both in the see and rivers more and lesse. 
 "Wherfore, lord Phebus, this is my request. 
 Do this miracle, or do min herte brest; 
 That now next at this opposition, 
 Which in the signe shal be of the Leon, 
 As preyeth hu-e^ so gret a flood to bring, 
 That five fadome at the lest it overspring 
 The highest rock in Armorike Bretaigne, 
 And let this flood enduren yeres twaine: 
 Than certes to my lady may I say, 
 Holdeth your hest, the rockes ben away^ 
 Lord Phebus, this miracle doth for me, 
 Prey hire she go no faster cours than ye | 
 I say this, preyeth your suster that she go 
 No faster cours than ye thise yeres two i 
 Than shal she ben even at ful alway, 
 And spring-flood lasten bothe night and da^r. 
 
 1 Lodging. 2 Quickened. . s j pray yon. 
 
308 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 11383-11424- 
 
 And but^ she vonchesaui in swiche manere 
 To graunten me my soveraine lady dere. 
 Prey hire to sinken every rock adoun 
 Into hire owen derke regioun 
 Under the ground, ther Pluto dwelleth in, 
 Or nevermo shal I my lady win. 
 
 Thy temple in Delphos wol I barefoot seke. 
 Lord Phebus, see the teres on my cheke, 
 And on my peine have som compassioun. 
 And with that word, in sorwe he fell adonn, 
 And longe time he lay forth in a trance. 
 His brother, which that knew of his penance,^ 
 Up caught him, and to bed he hath him brought. 
 Dispeired in this turment and this thought 
 Let I this woful creature lie, 
 Chese he for me whether he wol live or die, 
 
 Arviragus with hele^ and gret honour 
 (As he that was of chevalrie the flour) 
 Is comen home, and other worthy men : 
 O, blisful art thou now, thou Dorigen, 
 That hast thy lusty husbond in thin armes, 
 The freshe knight, the worthy man ol amies. 
 That loveth thee, as his owen hertes lit : 
 Nothing list him to be imaginatif, 
 If any wight had spoke, while he was oute. 
 To hire of love ; he had of that no doute ; 
 He not entendeth to no swiche matere, 
 But danceth, justeth, and maketh mery chere. 
 And thus in joye and blisse I let hem dwelij 
 And of the sike Aurelius wol I tell. 
 
 In langour and in turment furious 
 Two yere and more lay wrcoche Aurelius, 
 Er any foot on erthe he mighte gon ; 
 Ne comfort in this time ne had he non, 
 Sauf of his brother, which that was a clerk. 
 He knew of all this wo and all this werk; 
 For to non other creature certain 
 Of this matere he dorste no word sain ; 
 Under his brest he bare it more secree, 
 Than ever did Pamphilus'' for Galathee. 
 His brest was hole withouten for to seen, 
 J:>ut in his herte ay was the arwe kene, 
 1 Unless. 2 Suffering. 3 Health. 
 
 * A lover in some Latin poem of the time. 
 
11425-11454. THE FEANKELEINES TALE. 301^ 
 
 And "wel ye knoAve that ot a sursanure* 
 
 In surgerie is perilous the cure, 
 
 But men might touch the arwe or come therhy. 
 
 His brother wepeth and waileth privcly, 
 Til at the last him fell in remembrance, 
 That while he was at Orleaunce in France, 
 As yonge clerkes, that ben likerous 
 To reden artes that ben curious, 
 Seken in every halke and every herne^ 
 Particuler sciences for to lerne, 
 T!e him remembred, that upon a day 
 At Orleaunce in studie a book he say 
 Of magike naturel, which his felaw, 
 That was that time a bacheler of law, 
 Al were he ther to lerne another craft. 
 Had prively upon his desk ylaft ; 
 Which book spake moche of operations 
 Touching the eight and twenty mansions 
 That longen to the Mone, and swiche folie 
 As in our dayes n'is not worth a flie : 
 For holy cherches feith, in our beleve, 
 Ne suffreth non illusion us to greve. 
 And whan this book was in his remembrance, 
 Anon for joy e his herte gan to dance^ 
 And to himself he saied prively ; 
 My brother shal be warished^ hastily : 
 For I am siker* that ther be sciences, 
 By which men maken divers apparences, 
 Swiche as thise subtil tregetoures^ P^^y- 
 For oft at festes have I wel herd say, 
 * A wound healed only outwardly. 
 
 2 /. e., in every corner, a proverbial expression. 
 
 3 Cured. 4 Certain. 
 
 5 In the time of Chaucer, the persons who sang and played -were 
 called, generally, Minstrels; while the name of Jogelour was, in a 
 manner, appropriated to those, who, by sleight of hand and machines, 
 produced such illusions of the senses as are usually supposed to be 
 effected by enchantment : see above, ver. 7019, This species of Jogelour 
 is here called a Tregetour. They are joined together in company with 
 Magicians. H. of F. iii. 169. 
 
 Ther saw I playing Jogelours, 
 
 Magiciens and Tragetours, 
 
 And Phitonesses, Charmeresses— — 
 
 And Clerkes elce which conne wel 
 
 All this magike naturell. • 
 See also the following ver. 187 — 191. 
 If we compare the feats of the Tregetours, as described in this passage, 
 
310 THE CANTERB\7RY TALES. 11455-11468, 
 
 That tregetoures, within an halle large, 
 Have made come in a water and a barge, 
 And in the halle rowen up and doun. 
 Somtime hath semed come a grim leoun. 
 And somtime floures spring as in a mede, 
 Somtime a vine, and grapes white and rede, 
 Somtime a castel al of lime and ston, 
 And whan hem liketh voidety it anon : 
 Thus semeth it to every mannes sight. 
 
 Now than conclude I thus, if that I might 
 At Orleaunce som olde felaw find, 
 That hath thise Mones mansions in mind, 
 Or other Magike naturel above. 
 He shuld wel make my brother have his love. 
 
 with those which are afterwards performed by the Clerkes magUce, for 
 the entertainment of his guests, ver. 11501 — 11519, we shall find them 
 very similar; and they may both be illustrated by the following account 
 which Sir John Mandevile has given of the exhibitions before the Grete 
 Chan. " And than comen Jogulours and Enchantoures, that don many 
 marvaylles: for they maken to come in the ayr the Sonne and the 
 Mone, be seminge, to every mannes sight. And after they maken the 
 nyght so derk, that no man may see no thing. And aftre they maken 
 the day to come ayen fair and plesant with bright Sonne to every 
 mannes sight. And than they bringen in daunc.es of the fayrest 
 damyselles of the world and richest arrayed. And aftre they maken to 
 comen in other damyselles, bringinge coupes of gold, fulle of mylk of 
 dyverse bestes, and yeven drynke to lordes and to ladyes. And than 
 they make Knyghtes tojousten in armes fulle liistyly; and they rennen 
 togidre a gret randoum ; and they frusschen togidere fulle fiercely ; and 
 they breken here speres so rudely, that the tronchouns flen in sprotes 
 and peces alle aboute the Halle. And than they make to come in 
 liuntyng for the Hert and for the Boor, with houndes renning with open 
 mouthe. And many other thinges they don be craft of hir enchaunte- 
 ments, that it is raarveyle for to see. And suche playes of desport they 
 make, til the taking up of the boordes." Mand. Trav. p. 285, 6. See 
 also p. 261. " and wher it be by craft or by nygromancye, I wot nere." 
 The Glossary derives Tregetour from the Bakb. Lat. Tricator; but 
 the derivatives of that family are tricheur, tricheiie, trick, &c. Nor can 
 I find the word Tregetour in any language but our own. It seems clearly 
 to be formed from treget, which is frequently used by Chaucer for deceit, 
 imposture. E, R. 6267, 6312, 6825 ; and so is tregetry, ibid. G374, 6382. 
 From whence treget itself may have been derived is more difficult to say; 
 but I observe, that trehuchet, the French name for a military engine, is 
 called by Chaucer trepeget, E. E. 6279, and by Knighton, 2672, trepget; 
 and that this same word treburhet, in French, signified also a machine 
 for catching birds. Du Cange, in v. Teepget. — Tyrwhitt, 
 1 Departs, disappears. 
 
114G9-11510. THE FRANKELEINES TALE. 311 
 
 For with, an apparence a clerk may make 
 To mannes sight, that all the rockes blake 
 Of Bretaigne were yvoided everich on, 
 And shippes by the brinke comen and gon, 
 And in swiche forme endure a day or two : 
 Than were my brother warished of his wo, 
 Than must she nedes holden hire behest, 
 Or elles he shal shame hire at the lest. 
 
 What shuld I make a lenger tale of this ? 
 Unto his brothers bed he comen is. 
 And swiche comfort he yaf him, for to gon 
 To Orleaunce, that he up stert anon, 
 And on his way forthward than is he fare. 
 In hope for to ben lissed^ of his care. 
 
 Whan they were come almost to that citee, 
 But if it were a two furlong or three, 
 A yonge clerk roming by himself they mette 
 Which that in Latine thriftily hem grette. 
 And after that he sayd a wonder thing ; 
 I know, quod he, the cause of your coming: 
 And or they forther any foote went. 
 He told hem all that was in hir entent. 
 
 This Breton clerk him axed of felawes, 
 The which he had yknowen in olde dawes, 
 And he answered him that they dede were, 
 For which he wept ful often many a tere. 
 
 Doun of his hors Aurelius light anon, 
 And forth with this magicien is gon 
 Home to his hous, and made hem wel at ese: 
 Hem lacked no vitaille that might hem j^lese. 
 So wel arraied hous as ther was on, 
 Aurelius in his lif saw never non. 
 
 He shewed him, or they went to soupere, 
 Forestes, parkes ful of wilde dere. 
 Ther saw he hartes with hu" homes hie, 
 The gretest that were ever seen with eie. 
 He saw of hem an hundred slain with houndea. 
 And som with arwes blede of bitter woundes. 
 He saw, whan voided were the wilde dere, 
 Thise fauconers upon a faire rivere, 
 That with hir haukes han the heron slain. 
 
 Tho saw he Imightes justen in a plain. 
 
 1 Eased. 
 
312 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 11511-1155; 
 
 And after tliis he did him swiehe plesance, 
 
 That he him shewed his lady on a dance, 
 
 On which himselven danced, as him thought. 
 
 And whan this maister, that this magike wrought, 
 
 Saw it was time, he clapped his hondes two, 
 
 And farewel, al the revel is ago. 
 
 And yet remiied they never out of the hous, 
 
 While they saw all thise sightes merveillous ; 
 
 But in his studie, ther his bookes be. 
 
 They saten stil], and no wight but they threo. 
 
 To him this maister called his squier, 
 And sayd him thus, may we go to souper ? 
 Almost an houre it is, I undertake, 
 Sin I you bade our souper for to make, 
 "Whan that thise worthy men wenten with mo 
 Into my studie, ther my bookes be. 
 
 Sire, ([uod this squier, whan it liketh you, 
 It is al I'edy, though ye wol right now. 
 
 Go we than soupe, quod he, as for the best, 
 Thise amorous folk somtime moste han rest. 
 
 At after souper fell they in tretee 
 Whal; summe shuld this maisters guerdon be. 
 To remue all the rockes of Bretaigne, 
 And eke from Gerounde to the mouth of Saine. 
 
 He made it strange, and swore, so God him save, 
 Lesse than a thousand -pound he wold not have, 
 Ne gladly for that summe he wold not gon. 
 
 Aurelius with blisful herte anon 
 Answered thus ; lie on a thousand pound : 
 This wide world, which that men sayn is round, 
 I wold it yeve, if I were lord of it. 
 This bargaine is ful-drive, for we ben knit ; 
 Ye shul be paied trewely by my trouth. 
 But loketh, for non negligence or slouth. 
 Ye tarie^ us here no lenger than to morwe. 
 Nay, quod this clerk, have here my faith to borwe. 
 
 To bed is gon Aurelius whan him lest, 
 And wel nigh all that night he had his rest. 
 What for his labour, and his hope of blisse, 
 His woful herte of penance had a lisse. 
 
 Upon the morwe whan that it was day, 
 To Bretaigne token they the righte way, 
 
11553-11686. THE FEANKELEINES TALE. 313 
 
 Aiirelie, and this magicien liim beside, 
 And ben descended ther they wold abide : 
 And this was, as the bookes me remember, 
 The colde frosty seson of December. 
 
 Phebiis waxe old, and hewed like laton,^ 
 That in his hote declination 
 Shone as the burned gold, with stremes bright 
 But now in Cajoricorne adoun he light, 
 Wher as he shone ful pale, I dare wel sain. 
 The bitter frostes with the sleet and rain 
 Destroyed han the grene in every yerd. 
 Janus sit by the fire with double herd, 
 And drinketh of his bugle horn the wine : 
 Beforn him stant braune^ of the tusked swine, 
 And noueV' crieth every lusty man. 
 
 Aurelius in all that ever he can, 
 Doth to his maister chere and reverence, 
 And praieth him to don his diligence 
 To bringen him out of his peines smerte. 
 Or with a swerd that he wold slit his herte. 
 
 This sotil clerk swiche routh hath on this mwa. 
 That night and day he sj)edeth him, that he cai., 
 To wait a time of his conclusion ; 
 This is to sayn, to make illusion, 
 By swiche an ajDparence or joglerie, 
 (I can no termes of Astrologie) 
 That she and every wight shuld wene and say. 
 That of Bretaigne the rockes were away, 
 Or elles they were sonken under ground. 
 So at the last he hath his time y found 
 To make his japes and his wretchednesse 
 Of swiche a superstitious cursednesse. 
 His tables Toletanes^ forth he brought 
 Ful wel corrected, that ther lacked nought, 
 
 1 Was of a brass-like colour. 2 Brawn. 
 
 3 Noel ! derived from the Latin Natalis, a usual cry upou occasions of 
 festivity and rejoicing. 
 
 ■i Tlie Astronomical Tables, composed by order of Alphonso X., 
 king of Castile, about the middle of the xiiith Century, were called some- 
 times Tabulce ToIetancB, from their being adapted to the city of Toledo. 
 There is a very elegant copy of them in MS. Harl. o6d7. I am not 
 sufficiently skilled in the ancient Astronomy to add anything to the 
 explanation of the following technical terms, drawn chiefly from those 
 tables, which has been given in the Addit. to Gloss. Urr. v. Expaks 
 
 TERES, p. 81, as follows : — 
 
314 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 11587-11016. 
 
 Nother his collect, ne his expans yeres, 
 Nother his rotes^ ne his other geres, 
 As ben his centres, and his argumentes, 
 And his proportionel convenientes 
 For his equations in every thing. 
 And by his eighte speres in his werking. 
 He knew ful wel how fer Alnath^ was shove 
 Fro the hed of thilke fix Aries above, 
 That in the ninthe spere considered is. 
 Ful sotilly he calculed all this. 
 "Whan he had found his firste mansion, 
 He knew the remenant by proportion; 
 And knew the rising of his mone wel. 
 And in whos face, and terme, and every del ; 
 And knew ful wel the mones mansion 
 Accordant to his operation ; 
 And knew also his other observances, 
 For swiche illusions and swiche meschanccs. 
 As hethen folk used in thilke daies. 
 For which no lenger maketh he delaies, 
 But thurgh his magike, for a day or tway, 
 It semed all the rockes were away. 
 Aurelius, which that despeired is. 
 Whether he shal han his love, or fare amis, 
 Awaiteth night and day on this miracle ; 
 And whan he knew that ther was non obstacle, 
 That voided were thise rockes everich on, 
 Doun to his maisters feet he fell anon, 
 And sayd ; I woful wretch Aurelius, 
 Thanke you, my lord, and lady min Venus, 
 
 "In this and the following verses, the poet describes the Alphonsine 
 Astronomical tables by the several parts of them, wherein some techni- 
 cal terms occur, which were used by the old astronomers, and continued 
 by the compilers of those tables. Collect years are certain sums of 
 years, with the motions of the heavenly bodies corresponding to them, 
 as of 20, 40, 60, &c., disposed into tables; and Expans years are the 
 single years, with the motions of the heavenly bodies answering to 
 them, beginning at 1, and continued on to the smallest Collect sum, as 
 20, &c. A Root, or Radix, is any certain time taken at pleasure, from 
 which, as an era, the celestial motions are to be computed. By propor- 
 cionel convenientes are meant the tables of proportional parts." Gloss. 
 Ur. "Argument in astronomy is an arch whereby we seek another 
 unknown arch proportional to the first." — CTiambers. Tyrivhitt. 
 
 1 The first star in the horns of Aries, whence the first mansion of tho 
 moon takes its name. 
 
11617-11658. THE FRANKELEINES TALE. 315 
 
 That me lian liolpen fro my cares cold. 
 And to tlie temple his way forth hath he hold, 
 Theras he knew he shuld his lady see. 
 And whan he saw his time, anon right he 
 With dredfuP herte and with ful humble chero 
 Sallied hath his soveraine lady dere. 
 
 My rightful lady, quod this woful man. 
 Whom I most drede, and love, as I best can, 
 And lothest were^ of all this world displese, 
 N'ere it that I for you have swiche disese. 
 That I must die here at your foot anon. 
 Nought wold I tell how me is wo begon. 
 But certes other must I die or plaine ; 
 Ye sle me gilteles for veray peine. 
 But of my deth though that ye han no routh, 
 Aviseth you, or that ye breke your trouth : 
 Eepenteth you for thilke God above, 
 Or ye me sle, because that I you love. 
 
 |. ■ For, madame, wel ye wote what ye have hight; 
 
 " Not that I chalenge any thing of right 
 Of you, my soveraine lady, but of grace ; 
 But in a gardin yond, in swiche a place, 
 Ye wote right wel what ye behighten me, 
 And in myn hond your trouthe plighten ye. 
 To love me best ; God wote ye saied so, 
 Although that I unworthy be therto ; 
 Madame, I speke it for the honour of you, 
 More than to save my hertes lif right now : 
 I have don so as je commanded me. 
 And if ye vouchesauf, ye may go see. 
 Doth as you list, have your behest in mind, 
 For quick or ded, right ther ye shul me find: 
 In you lith all to do me live or de}^, 
 But w^el I wote the rockes ben awey. 
 
 He taketh his leve, and she astonied stood; 
 In all hire face n'as o drope of blood : 
 She wened never han come in swiche a trapj)e. 
 Alas ! quod she, that ever this shuld happe ! 
 For wend I never by possibilitee, 
 That swiche a monstre or mervaille might be ; 
 It is again the processe of nature. 
 And home she goth a sorweful creature, 
 
 * Doubtful. 2 Least willingly would. 
 
316 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 11659-11700. 
 
 For veray fere unnethes may she go. 
 She wepeth, waileth all a day or two, 
 And swounetli, that it routhe was to see; 
 But why it was, to no wight tolde she, 
 For out of toun was gon Arviragus. 
 But to hireself she spake, and saied thus. 
 With face pale, and with ful sory chere, 
 In hire complaint, as ye shul after here. 
 
 Alas ! quod she, on thee, fortune, I plain,* 
 That unware hast me wrapped in thy chain: 
 Fro which to escapen, wote^ I no soccour, 
 Sauf only deth, or elles dishonour : 
 On of thise two behoveth me to chese. 
 But natheles, yet had I lever lese 
 My lif, than of my body have a shame. 
 Or know myselven false, or lese my name; 
 And with my deth I may be quit ywis.^ 
 Hath ther not many a noble wif or this, 
 And many a maid yslaine hireself, alas ! 
 Bather than with hire body don trespas ? 
 Yes certes ; lo, thise stories bere witnesse.* 
 
 Whan thirty tyrants ful of cursednesse 
 Had slain Phidon in Athens at the fest, 
 They commanded his doughtren for to arrest. 
 And bringen hem beforne hem in despit 
 Al naked, to fulfill hir foule delit ; 
 And in hir fadres blood they made hem dance 
 Upon the pavement, God yeve hem meschance. 
 For which thise woful maidens ful of drede. 
 Rather than they wold lese hir maidenhede. 
 They prively ben stert into a welle. 
 And dreint hemselven, as the bookes telle. 
 
 They of Messene let enquere and seke 
 Of Lacedomie fifty maidens eke, 
 On which they wolden don hir lecherie: 
 But ther was non of all that compagnie 
 That she n'as slaine, and with a glad entent 
 Chees rather for to dien, than assent 
 To ben oppressed of hir maidenhede. 
 Why shuld J. than to dien ben in drede ? 
 
 Lo eke the tyrant Aristoclides, 
 That loved a maid hight Stimphalides, 
 
 ' Lament. 2 Know. 3 Certainly. 
 
 4 They are taken from Hieronymus contra Jovin. I. 39. — Tyru-Mtt. 
 
11701-11743. THE FKANKELEINES TALE. 317 
 
 Whan that hire father slaine was on a night, 
 Unto Dianes temple goth she right, 
 And hente^ the image in hke handes two. 
 Fro which image wold she never go, 
 No wight hu-e handes might of it arrace,^ 
 Til she was slaine right in the selve place. 
 
 Now sin that maidens hadden swiche desplt 
 To he defouled with mannes foule delit, 
 "VVel ought a wif rather hireselven sle, 
 Than be defouled, as it thinketh me. 
 
 What shal I sayn of Hasdrubales wif, 
 That at Cartage beraft hireself hire lif ? 
 Tor whan she saw that Eomains wan the toun. 
 She toke hire children all, and skipt adoun 
 Into the fire, and chees rather to die. 
 Than any Eomain did hire vilanie. 
 
 Hath not Lucrece yslaine hireself, alas ! 
 At Eome, whan that she oppressed was 
 Of Tarquine ? for hire thought it was a shame 
 To liven, whan she hadde lost hire name. 
 
 The seven maidens of Milesie also 
 Han slaine hemself for veray drede and wo, 
 Eather than folk of Gaule hem shuld oppresse. 
 
 Mo than a thousand stories, as I gesse, 
 Coude I now tell as touching this matere. 
 
 Whan Abradate was slain, his wif so dere 
 Hireselven slow, and let hire blood to glide 
 In Abradates woundes, depe and wide, 
 And sayd, my body at the leste way 
 Ther shal no wight defoulen, if I may. 
 
 What shuld I mo ensamples hereof sainl 
 Sin that so many han hemselven slain 
 Wei rather than they wold defouled be, 
 I wol conclude that it is bet for me 
 To sle myself than be defouled thus. 
 I wol be trewe unto Arviragus, 
 Or elles sle myself in some manere. 
 As did Demotiones doughter dere, 
 Because she wolde not defouled be. 
 
 O Sedasus, it is ful gret pitee 
 To reden how thy doughtren died, alas! 
 That slowe hemselven ibr swiche maner cas. 
 
 * Took, seized. Tear away. 
 
318 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 11713-11786* 
 
 As gret a pitee was it or wel more, ) 
 The Theban maiden, that for Nichanore 
 Hireselven slow, right for swiche manere wo. 
 Another Theban mayden did right so, 
 For on of Macedoine had hire opi^ressed, 
 She with hire deth hire maidenhed redressed. 
 
 What shal I sain of Nicerates wif, 
 That for swiche cas beraft hireself hire lif 1 
 
 How trewe was eke to Alcibiadea 
 His love, that for to dien rather chees. 
 Than for to suffre his body "unburied be ? 
 
 Lo,' which a wif was Alceste ekel (quod she) 
 "What sayth Homere of good Penelope] 
 All Grece knoweth of hire chastitee. 
 
 Parde of Laodomia is written thus, 
 That whan at Troye was slain Prothesilaiis, 
 jSTo lenger wolde she live after his day. 
 
 The same of noble Portia tell I may ; 
 Withouten Brutus coude she not live, 
 To whom she had all hoi hire herte yeve. 
 
 The parfit wif hood of Artemisie 
 Honoured is thurghout all Barbaric. 
 
 O Teuta queue, thy wifly chastitee 
 To alle wives may a mirrour be. 
 
 Thus plained Dorigene a day or twey, 
 Purposing ever that she wolde dey ; 
 But natheles upon the thridde night 
 Home came Arviragus, the worthy knight, 
 And axed hire why that she weep so sose : 
 And she gan wepen ever lenger tne move. 
 
 Alas, quod she, that ever I was ybornei 
 Thus have I said, (quod she) thus have I s^"o;^?-. 
 And told him all, as ye have herd before : 
 It nedeth not reherse it you no more. 
 
 This husbond with glad chore in frendly wIg® 
 Answerd and sayd, as I shal you devise. 
 Is ther ought elles, Dorigene, but this 1 
 
 Nay, nay, quod she, God helpe me so, as wis 
 This is to much, and it were Goddes will. 
 
 Ye, wif, quod he, let slepen that is still, 
 It may be wel para venture yet to-day. 
 Ye shal your trouthe holden by my fay. 
 For God so wisly have mercy on me, 
 I had wel lever stiked for to be, 
 
117S7-11828. THE FKANKELEINES TALE. 319 
 
 For veray love which that I to you have, 
 But if ye shuld your trouthe kepe and savf , 
 Trouth is the hiest thing that man may kepo. 
 But with that word he brast anon to wepe, 
 And sayd ; I you tbrbede on peine of deth, 
 That never while you lasteth lif or breth, 
 To no wight tell ye this misa venture. 
 As I may best I wol my wo endure. 
 Ne make no contenance of hevinesse, 
 That folk of you may demen harme or gess9. 
 And forth he clejDed a squier and a maid. 
 Goth forth anon with Dorigene, he said, 
 And bringeth hire to swiche a place anon. 
 They take hir leve, and on hir way they gon : 
 But they ne wisten why she thider went, 
 She n'olde no wight tellen hire entent. 
 
 This squier, which that highte Aurelius, 
 On Dorigene that was so amorous, 
 Of aventure happed hire to mete 
 Amid the toun, right in the quikkest strete, 
 As she was boun^ to go the way forthright 
 Toward the gardin, ther as she had hight. 
 And he was to the gardinward also ; 
 For wel he spied whan she wolde go 
 Out of hire hous, to any maner place : 
 But thus they met of aventure or grace, 
 And he salueth hire with glad entent, 
 And axeth of hire whiderward she went. 
 
 And she answered, half as she were mad, 
 Unto the gardin, as myn husbond bad, 
 My trouthe for to hold, alas ! alas ! 
 
 Aurelius gan wondren on this cas, 
 And m his herte had gret compassion 
 Of hire, and of hire lamentation, 
 And of Arviragus the worthy knight, 
 That bad hire holden all that she had hight, 
 So loth him was his wif shuld breke hire tro ntlie. 
 And in his herte he caught of it gret routhe, 
 Considering the best on every side. 
 That fro his lust yet were him lever abide, 
 Than do so high a cherlish wretchednesse 
 Ageins fraunchise,^ and alle gentillesse ; 
 
 1 Eeady. 2 Franknesa. 
 
320 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 11S2S-11373. 
 
 For wLicli in fewe wordes sayd he tlirts. 
 
 Madame, say to your lord Arviragus, 
 That sin I see the grete gentillesse 
 Of him, and eke I see wel your distresse, 
 That him were lever have shame (and that were rou the) 
 Than ye to me shuld breken thus your trouthe, 
 I hadde wel lever ever to suffren wo. 
 Than to depart the love betwix you two. 
 I you relese, madam e, into your hond 
 Quit every seurement and every bond, 
 That ye han made to me, as herebeforne, 
 Sin tliilke time that ye were yborne. 
 Have here my trouthe, I shal you never reprev© 
 Of no behest, and here I take my leve, 
 As of the trewest and the beste wit, 
 That ever yet I knew in all my lit 
 But every wif beware of hire behest ; 
 On Dorigene remembreth at the lest. 
 Thus can a squier don a gentil dede, 
 As wel as can a knight, withouten drede. 
 
 She thanketh him upon hire knees bare. 
 And home unto hire husbond is she fare. 
 And told him all, as ye han herd me sayd : 
 And, trusteth me, he was so wel apayd. 
 That it were impossible me to write. 
 
 What shuld I lenger of this cas endite ? 
 Arviragus and Dorigene his wif 
 In soveraine blisse leden forth hir lif, 
 Never eft ne was ther anger hem betwene ; 
 He cherished hire as though she were a quene^ 
 And she was to him trewe for evermore : 
 Of thise two folk ye get of me no more. 
 
 Aurelius, that his cost hath all forlorne, 
 Curseth the time, that ever he was borne. 
 Alas ! quod he, alas that I behight 
 Of pured gold a thousand pound of wight 
 Unto this philosophre ! how shal I do 1 
 I see no more, but that I am fordo. 
 Min heritage mote I nedes sell. 
 And ben a begger, here I n'ill not dwell, 
 And shamen all my kinrede in this place. 
 But I of him may geten better grace. 
 But natheles I wol of him assay 
 At certain dales yere by yere to pay, 
 
1S7S-11916. THE FRANKELEINES TALE. 321 
 
 And thanke him of liis grete curtesie. 
 My trouthe wol I kepe, I wol not lie. 
 
 With herte sore he goth unto his cofre, 
 And broughte gold nnto this philosophre, 
 The value of five hundred pound I gesse, 
 And him besecheth of his gentillesse 
 To graunt him dales of the remenaunt, 
 And sayde ; maister, I dare wel make avaunt, 
 I failled never of my trouthe as yet. 
 For sikerly my dette shal be quit 
 Towardes you, how so that ever I fare 
 Xo gon a begging in my kirtle bare : 
 But wold ye vouchen sauf upon seurtee 
 Two yere or three for to respiten me, 
 Than were T wel, for elles mote I sell, 
 Min heritage, ther is no more to tell. 
 
 This Philosophre sobrely answerd. 
 And saied thus, whan he thise wordes herd | 
 Have I not holden covenant to thee 1 
 
 Yes certes, wel and trewely, quod he. 
 Hast thou not had thy lady as thee liketh ? 
 
 ISTo, no, quod he, and sorwefully he siketh. 
 What was the cause 1 tell me if thou can. 
 
 Aurelius his tale anon began, 
 And told him all as ye han herd before, 
 It nedeth not reherse it any more. 
 He sayd, Arviragus of gentillesse 
 Had lever die in sorwe and in distresse. 
 Than that his wif were of hire trouthe fals. 
 The sorwe of Dorigene he told him als, 
 How loth hire was to ben a wicked wif, 
 And that she lever had lost that day hire lif ; 
 And that her trouth she swore thurgh innocev.cej 
 She never erst hadde herd speke of apparence: 
 That made me han of hire so gret pitee. 
 And right as freely as he sent hire to me, 
 As freely sent I hire to him again : 
 This is all and som, ther n'is no more to sain. 
 
 The Philosophre answerd ; leve brother, 
 Everich of you did gentilly to other: 
 Thou art a squier, and he is a knight, 
 But God forbede to his blisful might, 
 But if a clerk coud don a gentil dede 
 As wel as any of you, it is no drede. 
 
322 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 11917-1 192S. 
 
 Sire, I relese thee thy thousand pound, 
 As thou right now were crope^ out of the ground, 
 ISTe never er now ne haddest knowen me 
 For, sire, I wol not take a peny of thee 
 For all my craft, ne nought for my travaille: 
 Thou hast ypaied wel for my vitaille. 
 It is ynough, and farewel, have good day. 
 And toke his hors, and forth he goth his way* 
 
 Lordings, this question wold I axen now, 
 Which was the moste free, as thinketh you 2 
 Now telleth me, or that ye further wende. 
 I can no more, my tale is at an ende. 
 
 Had just ci'c^t. 
 
323 
 THE DOCTOURES PEOLOGUK 
 
 11929-11954. 
 
 Ye, let that passen, qiiod oure Hoste, as now^ 
 Sire Doctour of Physike, I prey you, 
 Tell us a tale of som honest matere. 
 
 It shal be don, if that ye wol it here, 
 Said this doctour, and his tale began anon. 
 Now, good men, quod he, herkeneth everich oii; 
 
 11]^ gurt^uns %ixlt 
 
 Ther was, as telleth Titus Livius, 
 A knight, that cleped was Yirginius, 
 rulfilled of honoiu' and worthinesse, 
 And strong of frendes, and of gret richesse. 
 This knight a doughter hadde by his wif. 
 No children had he mo in all his lif. 
 Faire was this maid in excellent beautee 
 Aboven every wight that man may see : 
 Foj- nature hath with soveraine diligence 
 Yformed hire in so gret excellence. 
 As though she wolde sayn, lo, I nature, 
 Thus can I forme and peint a creature, 
 Whan that me list ; who can me contrefete ? 
 Pigmalion 1 not, though he ay forge and bet© 
 Or grave, or peinte : for I dare wel sain, 
 Apelles, Xeuxis, shulden werche in vain. 
 Other to grave, or peinte, or forge, or bete. 
 If they presumed me to contrefete. 
 For he that is the former principal, 
 Hath maked me his vicaire general 
 
324 THE CANTERBURY TALES- 11955-11905, 
 
 To forme and peinten erthly creatures 
 
 Right as me list^ and eche thing in my cure is 
 
 Under the mone, that may wane and waxe. 
 
 And for my werk right nothing wol I axe ; 
 
 My lord and I ben ful of on accord. 
 
 I made hire to the worship of my lord ; 
 
 So do I all min other creatures, 
 
 What colour that they han, or what figures. 
 
 Thus semeth me that nature wolde say. 
 
 This maid of age twelf yere was and tway. 
 In which that nature hadde swiche delit. 
 For right as she can peint a lily whit 
 And red a rose, right with swiche peinture 
 She peinted hath this noble creature 
 Er she was borne, upon hire limmes free, 
 Wheras by right swiche colours shulden be i 
 And Phebus died hath hire tresses grete, 
 Like to the stremes of his burned hete. 
 And if that excellent were hire beautee, 
 A thousand fold more vertuous was she. 
 In hire ne lacked no condition, 
 That is to preise, as by discretion. 
 As wel in gost as body, chast was she : 
 For which she floured in virginitee, 
 With all humilitee and abstinence, 
 With all attemperance and patience, 
 With mesure eke, of bering and array. 
 Discrete she was in answering alway, 
 Though she were wise as Pallas, dare I sain, 
 Hire facounde^ eke ful womanly and plain, 
 No contrefeted termes hadde she 
 To semen wise ; but after hire degree 
 She spake, and all hire wordes more and lesse 
 Souning in vertue and in gentillesse. 
 Shamefast she was in maidens shamefastnesse. 
 Constant in herte, and ever in besinesse 
 To drive hire out of idel slogardie : 
 Bacchus had of hire mouth right no maistrie. 
 For wine and youthe" don Venus encrese, 
 As men in fire wol casten oile and grese. 
 And of hire owen vertue unconstreined, 
 She hath hireself ful often sike yfeined, 
 
 * Eloquence, manner of speech. 
 
 2 Tyrwhitt -would read " slouthe," «. e., slotlr. 
 
11997-12038. THE DOCTOURES TALE. '325 
 
 For that she wolde fleen the compagnie, 
 Wher likely was to treten of folie, 
 As is at testes, at revels, and at dances, 
 That ben occasions of daliances. 
 Swiche thinges maken children for to be 
 To sone ripe and bold, as men may see, 
 Which is ful perilous, and hath ben yore ; 
 For al to sone may she lernen lore 
 Of boldnesse, whan she woxen is a wif. 
 
 And ye maistresses in your olde lif, 
 p. That lordes doughters han in governance, 
 I Ne taketh of my wordes disjDlesance : 
 
 Thinketh that ye ben set in governinges 
 Of lordes doughters, only for two thinges ; 
 Other for ye han kept your honestee, 
 Or elles for ye han fallen in freeltee. 
 And knowen wel ynough the olde dance, 
 And han forsaken fully swiche meschance 
 For evermo : therfore for Cristes sake 
 To teche hem vertue loke that ye ne slake. 
 
 A theef of venison, that hath forlaft 
 His likerousnesse, and all his olde craft, 
 Can kepe a forest best of any man : 
 Now kepeth hem wel, for if ye wol ye can. 
 Loke wel, that ye unto no vice assent, 
 Lest ye be damned for your wikke entent, 
 For who so doth, a traytour is certain : 
 And taketh kepe of that I shal you sain ; 
 Of alle treson soveraine pestilence 
 Is, whan a wight betrayeth innocence. 
 
 Ye fathers, and ye mothers eke also, 
 Though ye han children, be it on or mo, 
 Your is the charge of all hir surveance, 
 While that they ben under your governance. 
 Beth ware,^ that by ensample of your living, 
 Or by your negligence in chastising, 
 That they ne perish : for I dare wel saye, 
 If that they don, ye shul it dere abeye. 
 Under a shepherd soft and negligent. 
 The wolf hath many a shepe and lamb to-rent. 
 
 Sufficeth this ensample now as here, 
 For I mote turne agen to my matere. 
 
326 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 12039-12078. 
 
 This maid, of whicli I tell my tale expresse, 
 She kept hireself, hire necled no maistresse; 
 Eor in hire living maidens mighten rede, 
 As in a book, every good word and dede, 
 That longeth to a maiden vertuous : 
 She was so prudent and so bounteous. 
 Por which the fame out sprong on every side 
 Both of hire beautee and hire bountee wide : 
 That thurgh the lond they preised hire ech one. 
 That loved vertue, sauf envie alone, 
 That sory is of other mannes wele, 
 ■ And glad is of his sorwe and his unhele. 
 The doctour maketh this descriptioun. 
 
 This maiden on a day went in the toun 
 Toward a temple, with hire mother^ dere, 
 As is of yonge maidens the manere. 
 
 Now was ther than a justice in that toun. 
 That governour was of that regioun : 
 And so beiell, this juge his eyen cast 
 Upon this maid, avising hire fill fast, 
 As she came forth by ther this juge stood: 
 Anon his herte changed and his mood, 
 So was lie caught with beautee of this maid. 
 And to himself ful prively he said. 
 This maiden shal be min for any man. 
 
 Anon the fend into his herte ran. 
 And taught liim sodenly, that he by sleight 
 This maiden to his purpos winnen might. 
 !For certes, by no force, ne by no mede, 
 Him thought he was not able for to spede 
 Tor she was strong of frendes, and eke she 
 Confermed was in swiche soveraine bountee. 
 That wel he wist he might hire never winne, 
 As for to make hire with hire body sinne. 
 For which with gret deliberatioun 
 He sent after a cherl was in the toun, 
 The which he knew for sotil and for bold.^ 
 This juge unto this cherl his tale hath told 
 In secree wise, and made him to ensure, 
 He shulde tell it to no creature, 
 
 ' Eather " her nurse." But Chaucer has deserted Livy and tlie o!d 
 writers so frequently in this narrative, that it is of little use to notice 
 the discrepancies. 
 
 2 Either for cunning or force. 
 
12079-13120. THE DOCTOUllES TALE. 327 
 
 And if he did, lie shulde lese his hede. 
 And whan assented was this cursed rede, 
 Glad was the juge, and maked him gret chero, 
 And yaf him yeftes precious and dere. 
 
 Whan shapen was all hir conspiracie 
 Fro point to point, how that his lecherie 
 Parformed shulde be ful sotilly, 
 As ye shul here it after openly, 
 Home goth this cherl, that highte Claudius. 
 This false juge, that highte Appius, 
 (So was his name, for it is no fable, 
 But knowen for an historial thing notable; 
 The sentence of it soth is out of doute) 
 This false juge goth now fast aboute 
 To hastenhis delit all that he may.. 
 And so befell, sone after on a day 
 This false juge, as telleth us the storie, 
 As he was wont, sat in his consistorie, 
 And yaf his domes^ upon sondry cas ; 
 This false cherl came forth a ful gret pas, 
 And saide ; lord, if that it be your will, 
 As doth me right upon this pitous bill, 
 In which I plaine upon Virginius. 
 And if that he wol sayn it is not thus, . 
 I wol it preve, and finden good witnesse, 
 That soth is that my bille wol expresse. 
 
 The juge answerd, of this in his absence 
 I may not yeve diffinitif sentence. 
 Let don him call, and I wol gladly here ; 
 Thou shalt have right, and no wrong as now here. 
 
 Virginius came to wete the juges will. 
 And right anon was red this cursed bill; 
 The sentence of it was as ye shul here. 
 
 To you, my lord sire Appius so dere, 
 Sheweth your poure servant Claudius, 
 How that a knight called Yirginius, 
 Agein the lawe, agein all equitee, 
 Holdeth, expresse agein the will of me. 
 My servant, which that is my thral by right, 
 Which from min hous was stolen on a night 
 While that she was ful yong, I wol it prev© 
 By witnesse, lord, so that it you not greve ; 
 
 1 Gave judgment. 
 
328 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 12121-121G4j. 
 
 She n'is Ms doughter nouglit, what so he say, 
 Wherfore to you, my lord the juge, I pray; 
 Yelde me my thral, if that it be your will. 
 Lo, this was all the sentence of his bill. 
 
 Vu-ginius gan upon the cherl behold ; 
 But hastily, er he his tale told. 
 And wold han preved it, as shuld a knight, 
 And eke by witnessing of many a wight, 
 That all was false, that said his adversary, 
 This cursed juge wolde nothing tary, 
 Ne here a word more of Virginius, 
 But yave his jugement, and saide thus. 
 
 I deme anon this cherl his servant have. 
 Thou shalt no lenger in thin hous hire save. 
 Go bring hire forth, and put hire in our wp.rd. 
 The cherl shal have his thral ; thus I award. 
 
 And whan this worthy knight Virginius, 
 Thurgh sentence of this justice Appius, 
 Muste by force his dere doughter yeven 
 Unto the juge, in lecherie to liven, 
 He goth him home, and set him in his hall. 
 And let anon his dere doughter call : 
 And with a face ded as ashen cold, 
 Upon hire humble face he gan behold. 
 With fadres pitee stiking thurgh his herte, 
 Al wold he from his purpos not converte. 
 
 Doughter, quod he, Virginia by thy name, 
 Ther ben two waies, other deth or shame. 
 That thou must suffre, alas that I was bore I 
 For never thou deservedest wherfore 
 To dien with a swerd or with a knif. 
 O dere doughter, ender of my lif, 
 Which I have fostred up with swiche plesance, 
 That thou were never out of my remembrance: 
 O doughter, which that art my laste wo, 
 And in my lif my laste joye also, 
 O gemme of chastitee, in patience 
 Take thou thy deth, for this is my sentence ; 
 For love and not for hate thou must be ded. 
 My pitous bond must smiten of thin hed 
 Alas that ever Appius thee say! 
 Thus hath he falsely juged thee to-day. 
 And told hire all the cas, as ye before 
 Han herd, it nedeth not to tell it more. 
 
12165-12208. THE DOCTOUEES TALE. 329 
 
 mercy, dere father, quod this maid. 
 And with that word she both hire armes laid 
 About his necke, as she was wont to do, 
 (The teres brast out of hire eyen two,) 
 And said, O goode father, shal I die 1 
 Is ther no grace 1 is ther no remedie ? 
 
 No certes, dere doughter min, quod he. 
 Than yeve me leiser, father min, quod she, 
 My deth for to complaine a Htel space : 
 For parde Jej)te yave his doughter grace 
 For to complaiae, or he hu^e slow, alas ! 
 And God it wot, nothing was hire trespaa. 
 But for she ran hire father first to see, 
 To welcome him with gret solempnitee. 
 And with that word she fell aswoune anon. 
 And after, whan hire swouning was agon. 
 She riseth up, and to hire father said : 
 Blessed be God, that I shall die a maid. 
 Yeve me my deth, or that I have a shame. 
 Doth with your child your wille a goddes name. 
 And with that word she praied him ful oft, 
 That with his swerd he wolde smite hire soft ; 
 And with that word, aswoune again she fell. 
 Hire father, with ful sorweful herte and will. 
 Hire hed of smote, and by the top it hent, 
 And to the juge he gan it to present, 
 As he sat yet in dome in consistorie. 
 
 And whan the juge it saw, as saith the stori^ 
 He bad to take him, and anhang him fast. 
 But right anon a thousand peple in thrast 
 To save the knight, for routh and for pitee. 
 For knowen was the false iniquitee. 
 
 The peple anon had suspect in this thing 
 By maner of the cherles chalenging, 
 That it was by the assent of Appius ; 
 They wisten wel that he was lecherous. 
 For which unto this Appius they gon, 
 And caste him in a prison right anon, 
 Wheras he slow himself: and Claudius, 
 That servant was unto this Appius, 
 Was demed for to hange upon a tree ; 
 But that Virginius of his pitee 
 So prayed for him, that he was exiled^ 
 And elles certes had he ben begiled : 
 
330 THE CANTERBimY TALES. 12209-1£*220. 
 
 The remenant were anliangedj more and lesse, 
 That were consentant of this cursednesse. 
 
 Here raen may see how sin hath his merite : 
 Beth ware, for no man wot whom God wol smit© 
 In no degree, ne in which maner wise 
 The worme of conscience may agrise 
 Of wicked lif, though it so privee be, 
 That no man wote therof, sauf God and he: 
 For be he lewed man or elles lered. 
 He n'ot how sone that he shal ben afered, 
 Therfore I rede yon this conseil take, 
 J^orsaketh sinne, or^ sinne you forsaksi. 
 
331 
 
 THE PARDONERES PROLOGUE. 
 
 12221-13350. 
 
 Our Hoste gan to swere as he were wood ; 
 
 Harow ! (quod he) by nailes and by blood. 
 
 This was a false cherl, and a false justice. 
 
 As shameful deth, as herte can devise, 
 
 Come to thise juges and hir advocas. 
 
 Algate this sely^ maide is slain, alas I 
 
 Alas ! to dere abought she hire beautee. 
 
 Wherfore I say, that al day man may see, 
 
 That yeftes of fortune and of nature 
 
 Ben cause of deth to many a creature. 
 
 Hire beautee was hire deth, I dare wel sain ; 
 
 Alas ! so pitously as she was slain. 
 
 Of bothe yeftes, that I speke of now, 
 
 Men han ful often more for harm than prow.^ 
 
 But trewely, min owen maister dere, 
 This was a pitous tale for to here : 
 But natheles, passe over, is no force. 
 I pray to God so save thy gentil corps, 
 And eke thyn urinals, and thy jordanes. 
 Thin Ypocras,^ and eke thy Galianes,* 
 And every boist^ ful of thy letuarie, 
 God blesse hem and our lady Seinte Marie. 
 So mote I the,^ thou art a propre man. 
 And like a prelat by Seint Eonian ; 
 Said I not wel 1 I cannot speke in terme ;'' 
 But wel I wot, thou dost min herte to erme, 
 That I have almost caught a cardiacle :^ 
 By corpus clomini but I have triacle,^ 
 Or elles a draught of moist and corny^° ale, 
 Or but I here anon a mery tale, 
 
 * Innocent. 2 profit. 3 Hippocrates. 
 
 * Galen. 5 Box, chest. * Tlirive. 
 
 7 I.e., in elaborate phraseolog7. 
 
 8 A pain or spasm about the region of the heart. 
 
 9 Theriaque, a remedy. lo Well-malted. 
 
332 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 13251-1228^ 
 
 Myn herte is lost for pitee of this maia. 
 Thou hel amy, thou pardoner, he said, 
 Tel us som mirth of japes right anon. 
 
 It shal be don, quod he, by Seint Eonion. 
 But first (quod he) here at this ale-stake 
 I wol both drinke, and biten on a cake. 
 But right anon thise gentiles gan to crie j 
 
 Nay, let him tell us of no ribaudrie, 
 Tel us som moral thing, that we mow lere, 
 Som wit, and thanne wol we gladly here. 
 I graunte ywis, quod he, but I must thinke 
 Upon som honest thing, while that I drinke. 
 
 LoRDiNGS, quod he, in chirche whan I joreche, 
 I peine me to have an hautein speche. 
 And ring it out, as round as goth a bell, 
 For I can^ all by rote that I tell. 
 My teme^ is alway on, and ever was ; 
 Radix motor um est ciipiditas? 
 
 First I pronounce whennes that I come. 
 And than my buUes shew I all and some ; 
 Our liege lordes sele on my patente, 
 That shew I first my body to warrente, 
 That no man be so bold, ne preest ne clerk. 
 Me to disturbe of Cristes holy werke. 
 And after that than tell I forth my tales. 
 Bulles of popes, and of cardinales. 
 Of patriarkes, and bishof)pes I shewe, 
 And in Latin I speke a wordes fewe, 
 To saffron'* with my predication. 
 And for to stere men to devotion. 
 Than shew I forth my longe cristal stones, 
 Ycrammed ful of cloutes and of bones, 
 Eelikes they ben, as wenen they echon. 
 
 Than have I in laton a shulder bone, 
 
 « Ken, know. 2 Tlieme. 
 
 3 Cupidity, avarice, is the root of evils. ^ Colour, flavour. 
 
.2285-13326. THE PARDONERES TALE 333 
 
 Which that was of an holy Jewes shepe. 
 
 Good men, say I, take of my wordes kepe : 
 If that this bone be washe in any well, 
 If cow, or calf, or shepe, or oxe swell. 
 That any worm hath ete, or worm ystonge, 
 Take water of that well, and wash his tonge, 
 And it is hole anon : and forthermore 
 Of pockes, and of scab, and every sore 
 Shal every shepe be hole, that of this well 
 Drinketh a draught ; take kepe of that I tell. 
 
 If that the good man, that the bestes oweth,* 
 Wol every weke, er that the cok him croweth, 
 Fasting ydrinken of this well a draught, 
 As thilke holy Jew our eldres taught, 
 His bestes and his store shal multiplie. 
 And, sires, also it heleth jalousie. 
 For though a man be falle in jalous rage, 
 Let maken with this water his potage, 
 And never shal he more his wif mistrist, 
 Though he the soth of hire defaute wist ; 
 Al had she taken preestes two or three. 
 
 Here is a mitaine^ eke, that ye may see : 
 He that his hand wol put in this mitaine, 
 He shal have multiplying of his graine, 
 Whan he hath sowen, be it whete or otes, 
 So that he offer pens^ or elles grotes. 
 
 And, men and women, o thing warne I you : 
 If any wight be in this chirche now. 
 That hath don sinne horrible, so that he 
 Hare not for shame of it yshriven be : 
 Or any woman, be she yong or old. 
 That hath ymade hire husbond cokewold, 
 Swiche folk shul han no power ne no grace 
 To offer to my relikes in this place. 
 And who so findeth him out of swiche blame, 
 He wol come up and offer in Goddes name. 
 And I assoyle"* him by the auctoritee. 
 Which that by buUe ygranted was to me. 
 
 By this gaude^ have I wonnen yere by yere 
 An hundred mark, sin I was pardonere. 
 I stonde like a clerk in my pulpet. 
 And whan the lewed peple is doun yset, 
 
 1 Owneth. Mitten, glove. 3 Pence. 
 
 * Absolve. 5 Trick. 
 
334 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 12327-12364 
 
 I preche so as ye lian herd before, 
 And tell an hundred false japes more. 
 Than peine I me to stretchen forth my necke, 
 And est and west upon the peple I becke, 
 As doth a dove, sitting upon a berne : 
 Myn hondes and my tonge gon so yerne,* 
 That it is joye to see my besinesse. 
 Of avarice and of swiche cursednesse 
 Is all my preching, for to make hem freo 
 To yeve hir pens, and namely unto me. 
 For min entente is not but for to winne, 
 And nothing for correction of sinne. 
 I recke never whan that they be beried, 
 Though that hir soules gon a blake beried.* 
 
 For certes many a predication 
 Cometh oft time of evil entention ; 
 Som for plesance of folk, and flaterie, 
 To ben avanced by hypocrisie ; 
 And som for vaine glorie, and som for hato. 
 For whan I dare non other wayes debate, 
 Than wol I sting him with my tonge smerte 
 In preching, so that he shal not asterte 
 To ben defamed falsely, if that he 
 Hath trespassed to my brethren or to me. 
 For though I telle not his propre name. 
 Men shal wel knowen that it is the same 
 By signes, and by other circumstances. 
 Thus quite I folk, that don us displesances : 
 Thus spit I out my venime under hewe 
 Of holinesse, to seme holy and trewe. 
 But shortly min entente I wol devise, 
 I preche of nothing but for covetise. 
 Therfore my teme is yet, and ever was. 
 Radix malorum est cupiditas. 
 
 Thus can I preche again the same vice 
 Which that I use, and that is avarice. 
 But though myself be gilty in that sinne, 
 Yet can I maken other folk to twinne^ 
 
 1 Quickly. 
 So all the MSS., I think, except Ask. 2, which reads "on blake be 
 ryecl." Skinner explains hiakeberied to mean in nigras et mauspicalas 
 domos missus. I really cannot guess what it means. — Tyrwhitt. 
 3 Turn. 
 
12365-1240i. THE PARDONERES TALE. S35 
 
 From avarice, and sore hem to repente. 
 But that is not my princiiDal entente ; 
 I preche nothing- but for covetise. 
 Of this matere it ought ynough suffise. 
 
 Than tell I hem ensamples many on 
 Of olde stories longe time agon. 
 Tor lewed^ pej^le loven tales olde ; 
 Swiche thinges can they wel report and holde. 
 What ? trowen ye, that whiles I may preche 
 And winnen gold and silver for I teche, 
 That I wol live in poverte wilfully? 
 Nay, nay, I thought it never trewely. 
 For I wol preche and beg in sondry londea, 
 I wol not do no labour with min hondes, 
 Ne make baskettes for to live therby, 
 Because I wol not beggen idelly. 
 I wol non of the apostles contrefete : 
 I wol have money, woUe, chese, and whete, 
 Al were it yeven of the pourest page. 
 Or of the pourest widewe in a village : 
 Al shulde hire children sterven^ for famine. 
 I^ay, I wol drinke the licour of the vine, 
 And have a joly wenche in every toun. 
 
 But herkeneth, lordings, in conclusioun, 
 Your liking is that I shal tell a tale. 
 Now I have dronke a draught of corny ale, 
 By Grod I hope I shal you tell a thing. 
 That shal by reson ben at yom- liking : 
 For though myself be a ful vicious man, 
 A moral tale yet I you tellen can, 
 Which I am wont to prechen, for to winne. 
 Now hold your pees, my tale I wol beginne. 
 
 In Flandres whilom was a comiDagnie 
 Of yonge folk, that haunteden folie,° 
 As hasard, riot, stewes, and tavernes ; 
 Wlieras with harpes, lutes, and giternes, 
 They dance and plaie at dis bothe day and night, 
 And ete also, and drinke over hir might ; 
 Thurgh which they don the devil sac'rifice 
 Within the devils temple, in cursed wise, 
 
 1 Ignorant, simple. 2 diq. 
 
336 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 12405-]2M4. 
 
 By superfluitee abhominable. 
 
 Hir othes ben so gret and so damnable, 
 
 That it is grisly for to here hem swere. 
 
 Our blisful lordes body they to-tere ; 
 
 Hem thought the Jewes rent him not ynough ; 
 
 And eche of hem at others sinne lough. 
 
 And right anon in comen tombesteres^ 
 Fetis^ and smale, and yonge fruitesteres,^ 
 Singers with harpes, baudes, wafereres,^ 
 Which ben the veray devils officeres, 
 To kindle and blow the fire of lecherie, 
 That is annexed unto giotonie. 
 The holy writ take I to my witnesse, 
 That luxurie is in wine and dronkenesse. 
 
 Lo, how that dronken Loth unkindely^ 
 Lay by his daughters two unwetingly, 
 So dronke he was he n'iste° what he wrought. 
 
 Herodes, who so wel the stories sought, 
 Whan he of wine replete was at his feste, 
 Eight at his owen table he yave his heste 
 To sleen the Baptist John ful gilteles. 
 
 Seneca saith a good word douteles : 
 He saith he can no difference find 
 Betwix a man that is out of his mind, 
 And a man whiche that is dronkelew : 
 But that woodnesse,^ yfallen in a shrew, 
 Persevereth lenger than doth dronkenesse. 
 
 O giotonie, full of cursednesse j 
 O cause first of our confusion, 
 O original of our damnation. 
 Til Crist had bought us with his blood again. 
 Loketh, how dere, shortly for to sain, 
 Abought was thilke cursed vilanie : 
 Corrupt was all this world for giotonie, 
 
 Adam our father, and his wif also, 
 Fro Paradis, to labour and to wo. 
 Were driven for that vice, it is no drede. 
 For while that Adam fasted, as I rede,^ 
 He was in Paradis, and whan that he 
 Ete of the fruit defended on a tree, 
 
 I Female dancers. "• Neat. 3 Fruit-sellers. 
 
 4 Sellers of wafers, or cakes. s Unnaturally. 
 
 8 Knew not. ' Madness. 8 Doubt. 
 
1M45-124.86. THE PARDONERES TALE. 03? 
 
 Anon lie was out cast to wo and peine, 
 
 glotonie^ on thee wel ought us plaine. 
 O, wist a man how many maladies 
 
 Folwen of excesse and of glotonies, 
 He wolde ben the more mesurable 
 Of his diete, sitting at his table. 
 Alas ! the shorte throte, the tendre mouth, 
 Makdih that Est and West, and North and South 
 In erthe, in air, in water, men to-swinke/ 
 To gete a gioton deintee mete and drinke. 
 Of this matere, O Poule, wel canst thou trete. 
 Mete unto wombe, and wombe eke unto met© 
 Shal God destroien bothe, as Paulus saith, 
 jf: Alas! a foule thing is it by my faith 
 * . To say this word, and fouler is the dede, 
 
 Whan man so drinketh of the white and rede, 
 That of his throte he maketh his privee 
 Thurgh thilke cursed superiluitee. 
 
 The Apostle saith^ weping ful pitously, 
 Ther walken many, of which you told have I, 
 
 1 say it now weping with pitous vols, 
 That they ben enemies of Cristes crois : 
 
 Of whiche the end is deth, womb is hir God. 
 
 O wombe, O belly, stinking is thy cod/ 
 
 Fulfilled of dong and of corruptioun; 
 
 At either end of thee foule is the soun. 
 
 How gret labour and cost is thee to find ! 
 
 Thise cokes how they stamp, and strein, and grind. 
 
 And turnen substance into accident, 
 
 To fulfill all thy likerous talent ! 
 
 Out of the harde bones knocken they 
 
 The mary,"* for they casten nought away, 
 
 That may go thurgh the gullet soft and soto: 
 
 Of spicerie, of leef, of barke, and rote/ 
 
 Shal ben his sause ymaked by delit 
 
 To make him yet a newer appetit. 
 
 But certes he, that haunteth swiche delices, 
 
 Is ded, while that he liveth in tho vices. 
 
 A lecherous thing is wine, and dronkenesse 
 Is ful of striving and of wretchednesse. 
 O dronken man, disfigured is thy face, 
 Sour is thy breth, foul art thou to enbrace: 
 
 1 Toil. 3 Philipp.iii. 18. 3 Bag. 
 
 4 Marrow, 6 Hoot. 
 
338 THE CANTERBURY TALES- 12487-12513; 
 
 And tliiirgh thy dronken nose semet'h. the soiin, 
 
 As though thou saidest ay, Sampsoun, Sampsoun ; 
 
 And yet, God wot, Sampsoun dronk never no v/lne. 
 
 Thou fallest, as it were a stiked swine ; 
 
 Thy tonge is lost, and all thin honest euro, 
 
 For dronkenesse is veray sepulture 
 
 Of mannes wit, and his discretion. 
 
 In whom that drinke hath domination, 
 
 He can no conseil kepe, it is no drede. 
 
 Now kepe you fro the white and fro the rede. 
 
 And namely fro the white wine of Lepe/ 
 
 That is to sell in Fishstrete and in Chepe. 
 
 This wine of Spaigne crepeth subtilly 
 
 In other wines growing faste by. 
 
 Of which ther riseth swiche fumositee, 
 
 That whan a man hath dronken draughtcs three. 
 
 And weneth that he be at home in Chep^, 
 
 He is in Spaigne, right at the toun of Lcp3, 
 
 Not at the Eochell, ne at Burdeux toun ; 
 
 And thanne wol he say, Sampsoun, SampsouTi. 
 
 But herkeneth, lordings, o word, I you pray. 
 That all the soveraine actes, dare I say, 
 Of victories in the Olde Testament, 
 Thurgh veray God, that is omnipotent, 
 Were don in abstinence and in prayere : 
 Loketh the Bible, and ther ye mow it lere. 
 
 Loke Attila, the grete conquerour. 
 Died in his slepe, with shame and dishonour, 
 Bleding ay at his nose in dronkenesse : 
 A capitaine shulde live in sobrenesse. 
 
 And over all this, aviseth you right wel, 
 What was commanded unto Lamuel ; 
 
 1 According to the geographers, Lepe was not far from Cadiz. This 
 wine, of whatever sort it may have been, was probably much stronger 
 than the Gascon wines, usually drunk in England. La Rochelle and 
 Bourdeaux, ver. 12505, the two chief ports of Gascony, were both, in 
 Chaucer's time, part of the English dominions, 
 
 Spanish wines might also be more alluring upon account of their 
 greater rarity. Among the orders of the royal household, in 1604, is 
 the following (MS. Uarl., 293, fol. 1G2) :— " And whereas, in tymes past, 
 Spanish wines, called Sacke, were little or noe whit used in our courte, 
 and that in later years, though not of ordinary allo>yance, it was 
 thought convenient that noblemen, &c., might have a boule or glass, 
 &c. We, understanding that it is now used as common drinke, &c., 
 reduce the allowance to xii gallons a day for the court, &c." — Tyrwhitt. 
 
12519-12554. THE PARDONERES TALE. 339 
 
 Not Samuel, but Lamuel say I. 
 Bedeth the Bible/ and find it expresly 
 Of wine yeving to hem that have justice. 
 No more of this, for it may wel suffice. 
 
 And now that I have sjDoke of glotonie, 
 Now wol I you defenden hasardrie, 
 Hasard is veray moder of lesinges, 
 And of deceite, and cursed forsweringes : 
 Blaspheming of Crist, manslaughter, and wast also 
 Of catel, and of time ; and forthermo 
 It is repreve, and contrary of honour, 
 For to ben hold a commun hasardour. 
 And ever the higher he is of estat 
 The more he is holden desolat. 
 If that a Prince useth hasarderie, 
 In alle governance and policie 
 He is, as by commun opinion, 
 Yhold the lesse in reputation. 
 
 Stilbon," that was a wise embassadour, 
 "Was sent to Corinth with ful gret honour 
 Fro Calidone, to maken hem. alliance : 
 And whan he came, it happed him par chance^ 
 That all the gretest that were of that lond 
 Yplaying atte hasard he hem fond. 
 For which, as sone as that it mighte be, 
 He stale him home agein to his contree, 
 And sayde ther, I wol not lese my name, 
 Ne wol not take on me so gret defame, 
 You for to allie unto non hasardours. 
 Sendeth som other wise embassadours, 
 For by my trouthe, me were lever die. 
 Than I you shuld to hasardours allie. 
 For ye, that ben so glorious in honours, 
 Shal not allie you to non hasardours. 
 As by my wille, ne as by my tretee. 
 This wise philosophre thus sayd he. 
 
 1 Prov. xxxi. 4, 5. 
 2 John of Salisbury, from whom our author probably took this story 
 and the following, calls him Chilon. Polycrat. L. i. c. 5. Chilon Lace- 
 dffimonius, jungendte societatis causa missus Corinthum, duces et seniores 
 populi ludentes invenit in alea. Infecto itaque negotio reversus est, 
 &c. Accordingly, in ver. 12539, MS. C. i., reads very rightly Lacedomyo. 
 instead of Calidone, the common reading. Our author has used before 
 Lacedomie fox LacedcBinon, ver. 11692. — Tyrichitt. 
 
340 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 12555-12586. 
 
 Loke eke how to tlie king Demetrius 
 The king of Parthes, as the book sayth us, 
 Sent him a pair of dis of gold in scorne, 
 For he had used hasard therbeforne : 
 For which he held his glory and his renouu 
 At no value or reputatioun. 
 Lordes may linden other maner play 
 Honest ynough to drive the day away. 
 Now wol I speke of others false and grete 
 A word or two, as olde bookes trete. 
 Gret swering is a thing abhominable, 
 And false swering is yet more reprevablc. 
 The highe God forbad swering at al, 
 Witnesse on Mathew : but in special 
 Of swering sayth the holy Jeremie, 
 Thou shalt swere soth thin othes, and not lie ; 
 And swere in dome,^ and eke in rightwisnesse • 
 But id el swering is a cursednesse. 
 
 Behold and see, that in the firste table 
 Of highe Goddes hestes honourable. 
 How that the second best of him is this, 
 Take not my name in idel or amis. 
 Lo, rather he forbedeth swiche swering, 
 Than homicide, or many an other thing. 
 I say that as by ordre thus it stondeth ; 
 This knoweth he that his hestes understondeth; 
 How that the second hest of God is that. 
 And forthermore, I wol thee tell all plat, 
 That vengeance shal not j)arten from his hous, 
 That of his otlies is outrageous. 
 By Goddes precious herte, and by his nailes,^ 
 And by the blood of Crist, that is in Hailes,* 
 
 1 Judgment. 
 
 2 I. €., with which he was nailed to the cross. Sir J. MancTevIIe, 
 c vii. " And thereby in the walle is the place Avhere the four nayles 
 of our Lord weren hidd ; for he had two in his hondes and two in his 
 feet : and, of one of theise the Emperour of Costantynoble made a 
 brydille to his hors/ to here him in bataylle; and thorgh vertue 
 thereof he overcame his enemies," &c. He had said before, c. ii. that 
 " on of the nayles that Crist was naylled. with on the cross," was at 
 Constantynoble ; and "on in France, in the kinges chapelle." — TyrwhUt. 
 
 3 The Abbey of Hailes, in Glocestershire, was founded by Richard, 
 king of the Romans, brother to Henry III. This precious relick, Avhich 
 was afterwards commonly called " the blood of Hailes," was brought 
 out of Germanic by the son of Richard, Edmund, who bestowed a third 
 
 I 
 
J3587-1261S. THE PARD0NERE3 TALE, 31) 
 
 Seven is my chance, and thin is cink and treyo : 
 By Goddes amies, if thou falsely pleye, 
 This dagger shal thurghout thin herte go. 
 This fruit cometh of the bicchel bones two/ 
 Forswering, ire, falsenesse, and homicide. 
 
 Now for the love of Crist that for us dido, 
 Leteth^ your othes, bothe gret and smale. 
 But, sires, now wol I tell you forth my tale. 
 
 Thise riotoures three, of which I tell, 
 Long erst or prime rong of any bell, 
 "Were set hem in a taverne for to drinkej 
 And as they sat, they herd a belle clinke 
 Beforn a corj^s, was caried to his grave : 
 That on of hem gan callen to his knave, 
 Go bet, quod he, and axe redily, 
 What corps is this, that passeth here forth, hyi 
 And loke that thou report his name wel. 
 
 Sire, quod this boy, it nedeth never a del ; 
 It was me told or ye came here two houres ; 
 He was parcle an old felaw of youres, 
 And sodenly he was yslain to-night, 
 Fordronke as he sat on his benche upright, 
 Ther came a privee theef, men clepen Deth, 
 That in this contree all the peple sleth, 
 And with his spere he smote his herte atwo. 
 And went his way withouten wordes mo. 
 He hath a thousand slain this pestilence : 
 And, maister, or ye come in his presence, 
 Me thinketh that it were ful necessarie, 
 For to beware of swiche an adversarie : 
 Beth redy for to mete him evermore. 
 Thus taughte me my dame, I say no more. 
 
 part of it upon his father's Abbey of Hailes, and sometime after gave 
 the other two parts to an Abbey of his own foundation at Ashrug near 
 Berkhamsted. Hollinsh. v. ii. p. 275. — TyricMtt. 
 
 1 Tlie common reading is ihillce bones. The alteration, which I have 
 ventm-ed to make, is not authorized entirely by any MS., but in part 
 by several. Bkkel, as explained by Kilian, is Talus, ovillus et lusorins ; 
 and Bickelen, talis ludere. See also Had. Junii Nomencl. n. 213. Our 
 dice indeed are the ancient tesserce, not tali; but, both being games of 
 hazard, the implements of one might be easily attributed to the other. It 
 should seem from Junius, loc. cit. that the Germans had preserved the 
 custom of playing with the natural bones, as they have different names 
 for a game with iali ovilli; and another with tali biihuU. — Tyrwhiit. 
 2 Forbear. 
 
342 THE CANTERBUKY TALES. 13619-126651 
 
 By Seinte Marie, sayd this tavernero 
 The child sayth soth, for he hath slain this yere 
 Hens over a mile, within a gret village, 
 Both man and woman, child, and hyne/ and page 
 I trowe his habitation be there : 
 To ben avised gret wisdome it were, 
 Or that he did a man a dishonour. 
 
 Ye, Goddes armes, quod this riotour, 
 Ts it swiche peril with him for to mete 1 
 I shal him seke by stile and eke by strete. 
 I make a vow by Goddes digne bones. 
 Herkeneth, felawes, we three ben all ones: 
 Let eche of us hold up his hond to other, 
 And eche of us becomen others brother, 
 And we wol slen this false traitour deth : 
 He shal be slain, he that so many sleth, 
 By Goddes dignitee, or it be night. 
 
 Togeder han thise three hir trouthes plight \ 
 To live and dien eche of hem for other. 
 As though he were his owen boren brother. 
 And up they stert al dronken in this rage, 
 And forth they gon towardes that village. 
 Of which the taverner had spoke beforn. 
 And many a grisly oth than have they sworn, 
 And Cristes blessed body they to-rent ; 
 Deth shal be ded, if that we may him hent. 
 
 Whan they han gon not fully half a mile. 
 Bight as they wold han troden over a stile, 
 An olde man and a poure with hem mette. 
 This olde man ful mekely hem grette. 
 And sayde thus ; Now, lordes, God you see. 
 
 The 23roudest of thise riotoures three 
 Answerd agen ; What ? cherl, with sory grace. 
 Why art thou all forwrapped save thy iace 1 
 Why livest thou so longe in so gret agel 
 
 This olde man gan loke in his visage, 
 And sayde thus ; For I ne cannot finde 
 A man, though that I walked into Inde, 
 Neither in citee, ne in no village. 
 That wolde change his youthe for min age ; 
 And therfore mote I han min age still 
 As longe time as it is Goddes will. 
 
 1 Hind, servant, husbandman. 
 
l^CGl-32703. THE PARDONERES TALE. 343 
 
 Ne deth, alas ! ne will not han my lif. 
 Thus walke I like a resteles caitif, 
 And on the ground, which is my modres gate 
 I knocke with my staf, erlich and late, 
 And say to hire, Leve mother, let me in. 
 Lo, how I vanish, flesh, and blood, and skin ; 
 Alas ! vhan shul my bones ben at reste ? 
 Mother, with you wold I changen my cheste. 
 That in my chambre longe time hath be, 
 Ye, for an heren^ clout to wrap in me. 
 But yet to me she wol not don that grace, 
 For which ful pale and welked^ is my face. 
 
 But, sires, to you it is no curtesie 
 To speke unto an olde man vilanie, 
 But he trespase in word or elles in dede. 
 In holy writ ye moun yourselven rede ; 
 Ageins^ an olde man, hore upon his hede, 
 Ye shuld arise : therfore I yeve you rede, 
 Ne doth unto an olde man non harm now, 
 No more than that ye wold a man did you 
 In age, if that ye may so long abidOc 
 And God be with you, wher ye go or ride. 
 I moste go thider as I have to go. 
 
 Nay, olde cherl, by God thou shalt not so, 
 Sayde this other hasardour anon ; 
 Thou partest not so lightly by Seint John. 
 Thou spake right now of thilke traitour deth. 
 That in this contree all our frendes sleth ; 
 Have here my trouth as thou art his espie 
 Tell wher he is, or thou shalt it abie, 
 By God and by the holy Sacrement ; 
 For sothly thou art on of his assent 
 To slen us yonge folk, thou false thefe. 
 
 Now, su'es, quod he, if it be you so lefe 
 To finden deth, tourne up this croked way, 
 For in that grove I left him by my fay 
 Under a tree, and ther he wol abide ; 
 Ne for your bost^ he wol him nothing hide. 
 Se ye that oke ? right ther ye shuln him find 
 God save you, that bought agen mankind, 
 And you amende ; thus sayd this olde man. 
 
 And overich of thise riotoures ran, 
 
 1 Hairy, 2 Withered. 
 
 8 Before. ^ Pnde, boastirig. 
 
S44 THE CANTERBURY TALES. x„;0c'-12744. 
 
 Til tliey came to the tree, and ther tliey found 
 Of rioreins fine of gold ycoined round, 
 Wei nigh an eighte bushels, as hem thought. 
 No lenger as than after dethe they sought, 
 But eehe of hem so glad was of the sight, 
 Tor that the lloreins ben so faire and bright, 
 That doun they sette hem by the precious hord. 
 The werste of hem he spake the firste word. 
 
 Brethren, quod he, take kepe what I shal say , 
 My wit is gret, though that I bourde^ and ph*y. 
 This tresour hath fortune unto us.yeven 
 In mirth and jolitee our lif to liven, 
 And lightly as it cometh, so wol we spend, 
 Ey, Goddes precious dignitee, who wend 
 To-day, that we shuld han so faire a grace ? 
 But might this gold be caried fro this plac^ 
 Home to myn hous, or elles unto youres, 
 (Tor wel I wote that all this gold is cures) 
 Thanne were we in high felicitee. 
 But trewely by day it may not be ; 
 Men wolden say that we were theeves strong . 
 And for our owen tresour doa us hong. 
 This tresour must ycaried be by night 
 As wisely and as sleighly as it might. 
 Wherfore I rede, that cut among us alle 
 We drawe, and let see wher the cut wol fall® ^ 
 And he that hath the cut, with herte blith, 
 Shal rennen to the touu, and that ful swith/-^ 
 And bring us bred and win ful prively: 
 And two of us shal kepen subtilly 
 This tresour wel : and if he wol not tarien, 
 Whan it is night, W3 wol this tresour carien 
 By on assent, whor as us thinketh best. 
 
 That on of hem the cut brought in his fest, 
 And bad hem drawe and loke wher it wold fallo, 
 And it fell on the yongest of hem alle : 
 And forth toward the toun he went anon. 
 And al so sone as that he Y\^as agon, 
 That on of hem spake thus unto that other ; 
 Thou wotest wel thou art my sworen brother, 
 Thy profite wol I tell thee right anon. 
 Thou wost wel that our felaw is agon, 
 
 1 Jest. 2 Quickly 
 
12745-127S6. THE PARDONERES TALE. 345 
 
 And here is gold, and that fill gret plentee, 
 That shal departed ben among us three. 
 But natheles, if I can shape it so, 
 That it departed were among us two, 
 Had I not don a frendes turn to thee ? 
 
 That other answerd, I n'ot how that may be : 
 He wote wel that the gold is with us tweye. 
 What shuln we don ? what shuln we to him seye 1 
 
 Shal it be conseil 1 sayd the firste shrewe j 
 And I shal tellen thee in wordes fewe 
 What we shul don, and bring it wel aboute. 
 
 I grante, quod that other, out of doute. 
 That by my trouth I wol thee not bewreie.^ 
 
 Now, quod the first, thou wost wel we ben tweie, 
 And tweie of us shul strenger be than on. 
 Loke, whan that he is set, thou right anon 
 Arise, as though thou woldest with him play ; 
 And I shal rive him thurgh the sides tway, 
 While that thou stroglest with him as in game, 
 And with thy dagger loke thou do the same 
 And than shal all this gold departed be, 
 My dere frend, betwixen thee and me : 
 Than moun we bothe our lustes al fulfiUe, 
 And play at dis right at our owen wille. 
 And thus accorded ben thise shrewes tweye, 
 To slen the thridde, as ye han herd me seye. 
 
 This yongest, which that wente to the toun, 
 Ful oft in herte he rolleth up and doun 
 The beautee of thise floreins newe and bright. 
 O Lord, quod he, if so were that I might 
 Have all this tresour to myself alone, 
 Ther n'is no man that liveth under the trone 
 Of God, that shulde live so mery as I. 
 And at the last the fend our enemy 
 Putte in his thought, that he shuld poison beye,^ 
 With which he mighte slen his felaws tweye. 
 For why, the fend fond him in swiche living, 
 That he had leve to sorwe him to bring. 
 For this was outrely his ful entente 
 To slen hem both, and never to repente. 
 
 And forth he goth, no lenger wold he tary, 
 Into the toun unto a Potecary, 
 
 1 Betray. 2 Buy. 
 
346 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 12787-12826. 
 
 And praied him that he him wolde sell 
 Som poison, that he might his ratonns quell. 
 And eke ther was a polkat in his hawe, 
 That, as he sayd, his capons had yslawe : 
 And fayn he wolde him wreken, if he might, 
 Of vermine, that destroied hem by night. 
 
 The Potecaiy answerd. Thou shalt have 
 A thing, as wisly God my soule save, 
 . In all this world ther n'is no creature, 
 That ete or dronke hath of this confecture, 
 Not but the mountance^ of a corne of whete, 
 That he ne shal his lif anon forlete ; 
 Ye, sterve he shal, and that in lesse while, 
 Than thou wolt gon a pas not but a mile : 
 This poison is so strong and violent. 
 
 This cursed man hath in his hond ylient 
 This poison in a box, and swithe he ran 
 Into the nexte strete unto a man, 
 And borwed of him large botelles three; 
 And in the two the poison poured he ; 
 The thridde he kepte clene for his drinke, 
 For all the night he shope him for to swink© 
 In carying of the gold out of that place. 
 
 And whan this riotour, with sory grace, 
 Hath filled with win his grete botelles three, 
 To his felawes agen repaireth he. 
 
 What nedeth it therof to sermon more ? 
 For right as they had cast his deth before. 
 Eight so they han him slain, and that anon. 
 And whan that this was don, thus spake that on; 
 Now let us sit and drinke, and make us mery, 
 And afterward we wiln his body bery. 
 And with that word it happed him ^ar cas, 
 To take the botelle, ther the poison was, 
 And dronke, and yave his felaw drinke also, 
 For which anon they storven bothe two. 
 
 But certes I suppose that Avicenne 
 Wrote never in no canon, ne in no fenne, 
 Mo wonder signes of empoisoning, 
 Than had thise wretches two or hir ending. 
 Thus ended ben thise homicides two, 
 And eke the false empoisoner also. 
 
 1 Amount, quantity. 
 
12829-12S73. THE PARDONERES TALE. 347 
 
 O cursednesse of alle cursednesse ! 
 O traitours homicide ! O wickednesse ! 
 
 glotonie, luxurie, and liasardrie ! 
 Thou blasphemour of Crist with vilanie, 
 And othes grete, of usage and of pride ! 
 Alas ! mankinde, how may it betide, 
 
 That to thy Creatour, which that thee wrought, 
 And with his precious herte-blood thee bought, 
 Thou art so false and so unkind, alas ! 
 
 Now, good men, God foryeve you your trespas, 
 And ware you fro the sinne of avarice. 
 Min holy ^Dardon may you all warice, 
 So that ye offre nobles or starlinges. 
 Or elles silver broches, sjDones, ringes. 
 Boweth your hed under this holy Bulle. 
 Cometh up, ye wives, and offreth of youi" wolle ; 
 Your names T entre here in my roll anon j 
 Into the blisse of heven shul ye gon : 
 
 1 you assoile by min high powere, 
 
 You that wiln offre, as clene and eke as clere 
 As ye were borne. Lo, su-es, thus I preche ; 
 And Jesu Crist, that is our soules leche, 
 So graunte you his pardon to receive; 
 For that is best, I wol you not deceive. 
 
 But, sires, o word forgate I in my tale ; 
 I have relikes and pardon in my male, 
 As faire as any man in Englelond, 
 Which were me yeven by the Popes hond. 
 If any of you wol of devotion 
 Offren, and han min absolution, 
 Cometh forth anon, and kneleth here adoun. 
 And mekely receiveth my pardoun. 
 Or elles taketh pardon, as ye wende, 
 Al newe and freshe at every tonnes ende, 
 So that ye offren alway newe and newe, 
 Nobles or pens, which that ben good and trewe. 
 It is an honour to everich that is here, 
 That ye moun have a suffisant pardonere 
 To assoilen you in contree as ye ride, 
 For aventures, which that moun betide. 
 Paraventure ther may falle on, or two, 
 Doun of his hors, and breke his necke atwo. 
 Loke, which a seurtee is it to you alle, 
 That I am in your felawship yfalle, 
 30 
 
34:8 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 12873-12902. 
 
 That may assoile you bothe more and lasse, 
 
 Whan that the soule shal fro the body passe. 
 
 I rede that our hoste shal begin ne, 
 
 For he is most envoluped in sinne. 
 
 Come forth, sire hoste, and offre first anon, 
 
 And thou shalt kisse the relikes everich on, 
 
 Ye for a grote ; unbokel anon thy purse. 
 
 Nay nay, quod he, than have I Cristes curse. 
 Let be, quod he, it shal not be, so the ich.^ 
 Thou woldest make me kisse thin olde breeh, 
 And swere it were a relike of a seint. 
 Though it were with thy foundement depeint. 
 But by the crois, which that Seint Heleine fond,* 
 I wolde I had thin coilons in min hond, 
 Instede of relikes, or of seintuarie. 
 Let cut hem of, I wol help thee hem cariej. 
 They shul be shrined in an hogges tord. 
 
 This Pardoner answered not a word ; 
 So wroth he was, no word ne wolde he say. 
 
 Now, quod our hoste, I wol no lenger play 
 With thee, ne with non other angry man. 
 
 But right anon the worthy knight began, 
 (Whan that he saw that all the peple lough) 
 No more of this, for it is right ynough. 
 Sire Pardoner, be mery and glad of chere ; 
 And ye, sire hoste, that ben to me so dere, 
 I pray you that ye kisse the Pardoner ; 
 And, Pardoner, I pray thee draw thee ner, 
 And as we diden, let us laugh and play 
 Anon they kissed, and riden forth hir way. 
 
 1 So may I thrive. 
 2 Sir J. Mandevile, c. vii. p. 93, " and nyghe that awtier is a place 
 undre erthe, 42 degrees of depenesse, where the Holy Croys was 
 founden, be the w^ytt of Seynte Elyne, undir a roche, where the Jewes 
 had hidde it. And that was the veray croys assayed ; for they founden 
 3 crosses ; on of oure Lord and 2 of the 2 theves : and Seynte Elyne 
 proved hem on a ded body, that arcs from dethe to lyve, whan that it 
 was leyd on it, that oure Lord dyed on." See alsoc. ii. p. Ih.-^Tyrwhitt. 
 
349 
 THE SHIPMANNES PROLOGUE. 
 
 12903-12926. 
 
 Our hoste upon his stirrops stode anon 
 
 And saide ; Good men, herkeneth everich on. 
 
 This was a thrifty tale for the nones. 
 
 Sire parish preest^ quod he, for Goddes bones. 
 
 Tell us a tale, as was thy forward yore : 
 
 I see wel that ye lerned men in lore 
 
 Can mochel good, by Goddes dignitee. 
 
 The Person him answerd, Benedicite ! 
 "What eileth the man, so sinfully to swere ? 
 
 Our hoste answerd, O Jankin, be ye there ? 
 Now, good men, quod our hoste, herkneth to me. 
 I smell a loller^ in the wind, quod he. 
 Abideth for Goddes digne passion, 
 For we shul han a predication : 
 This loller here wol prechen us somwhat. 
 
 Nay by my fathers soule, that shal he nat, 
 Sayde the Shipman, here shal he nat preche, 
 He shal no gospel glosen here ne teehe. 
 We leven all in the gret God, quod he. 
 He wolde sowen som difficultee, 
 Or springen cockle^ in our clene corne. 
 And therfore, hoste, I warne thee beforne, 
 My joly body shal a tale telle, 
 And I shal clinken you so mery a belle, 
 
 » This is in character, as appears from a treatise of the time. Barf. 
 Catal. n. 166(5, " Now in Engelond it is a comun protectioun ayens 
 persecutioun — ^if a man is customable to swere nedeles and fals and im- 
 avised, by the bones, nailes, and sides and other membres of Crist. — 
 And to absteyne fro othes nedeles and unleful, — and repreve sinne by 
 way of charite, is mater and cause noAV, why Prelates and sum Lordes 
 sclaundren men, and clepen hem LoUardes, Eretikes," &e. — Tyrwhitt. 
 
 2 Springen cockle. This seems to shew that Chaucer considered 
 Loller, as derived from lolium; but Du Cange, in v. Loi,laedus, rather 
 supposes that Lollard was a word of German original, signifying mus- 
 sitator; a,mu7nbler of prayers. See also Kilian, in v. LoiJ:iAERD.— 
 Tyrwhitt. 
 
350 THE CANTEEBUEY TALES. 12927-12962. 
 
 That I shal waken all this compagnie : 
 But it shal not ben of philosophie, 
 Ne of physike, ne termes queinte of lawe 
 Ther is but litel Latin in my mawe. 
 
 A Marchant whilom dwelled at Seint Denise, 
 
 That riche was, for which men held him wise. 
 
 A wif he had of excellent beautee, 
 
 And compaignable, and revelous was she, 
 
 Which is a thing that causeth more dispence, 
 
 Than worth is all the chere and reverence, 
 
 That men hem don at festes and at dances. 
 
 Swiche salutations and contenances 
 
 Passen, as doth a shad we upon the wall : 
 
 But wo is him that payen mote for all. 
 
 The sely husbond algate he mote pay, 
 
 He mote us clothe and he mote us array 
 
 All for his owen worship richely : 
 
 In which array we dancen jolily. 
 
 And if that he may not paraventure, 
 
 Or elles lust not swiche dispence endure. 
 
 But thinketh it is wasted and ylost, 
 
 Than mote another payen for our cost, 
 
 Or lene us gold, and that is perilous. 
 
 This noble Marchant held a worthy hous, 
 For which he had all day so gret repaire 
 For his largesse, and for his wif was faire, 
 That wonder is : but herkeneth to my tale. 
 
 Amonges all thise gestes gret and sraale, 
 Ther was a Monk, a faire man and a bold, 
 I trow a thritty winter he was old, 
 That ever in on was drawing to that place. 
 This yonge Monk, that was so faire of face 
 Acquainted was so with this goode man, 
 Sithen that hir firste knowlege began, 
 That in his hous as familier was he, 
 As it possible is any frend to be. 
 
12963-13004.. THE SHIPMANNES TALE. 351 
 
 And for as mochel as this goode man 
 And eke this Monk, of which that I began, 
 Were bothe two yborne in o village, 
 The Monk him claimeth, as for cosinage, 
 And he again him sayd not ones nay, 
 But was as glad therof, as fonle of day; 
 For to his herte it was a gret plesance. 
 
 Thus ben they knit with eterne alliance, 
 And eche of hem gan other for to ensure 
 Of brotherhed, while that hire lif may dure. 
 
 Free was Dan^ John, and namely of dispenc9 
 As in that hous, and ful of diligence 
 To don plesance, and also gret costage: 
 He not forgate to yeve the leste page 
 In all that hous ; but, after hir degree, 
 He yave the lord, and sithen his meinee, 
 Whan that he came, som maner honest thing ; 
 For which they were as glad of his coming 
 As foule is fayn, whan that the sonne up riseth. 
 No more of this as now,^ for it sufficeth. 
 
 But so befell, this Marchant on a day 
 Shope him to maken redy his array 
 Toward the toun of Brugges for to fare. 
 To byen ther a portion of ware : 
 For which he hath to Paris sent anon 
 A messager, and praied hath Dan John 
 That he shuld come to Seint Denis, and pleia 
 With him, and with his wif, a day or tweie, 
 Or he to Brugges went, in alle wise. 
 
 This noble Monk, of which I you devise, 
 Hath of his Abbot, as him list, licence, 
 (Because he was a man of high prudence, 
 And eke an officer out for to ride, 
 To seen hir granges,^ and hir bernes wide) 
 And unto Seint Denis he cometh anon. 
 
 Who was so welcome as my lord Dan John 
 Our dere cousin, ful of curtesie ? 
 With him he brought a jubbe of Malvesie,'* 
 And eke another ful of fine Yernage, 
 And volatile, as ay was his usage : 
 And thus I let hem ete, and drinke, and pleye, 
 This marchant and this monk, a day or tweye 
 1 Lord. 2 At present. 
 
 3 Farmhouses. ■* See on vs. 9681. 
 
352 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 13005-13046. 
 
 The thridde day this marcliaiit up ariseth, 
 And on his nedes sadly him aviseth: 
 And up into his countour hous goth he. 
 To reken with himselven, wel may be, 
 Of thilke yere, how that it with him stood, 
 And how that he dispended had his good 
 And if that he encresed were or non. 
 His bookes and his bagges many on 
 He layth beforn him on his counting bord. 
 Fnl riche was his tresour and his hord; 
 For which ful fast his countour dore he shet ; 
 And eke he n'olde no man shuld him let 
 Of his accountes, for the mene time : 
 And thus he sit, till it was passed prime. 
 
 Dan John was risen in the morwe also, 
 And in the gardin walketh to and fro, 
 sA.nd hath his thinges sayd ful curteisly. 
 
 This goode wif came walking prively 
 Into the gardin, ther he walketh soft, 
 And him salueth, as she hath don oft: 
 A maiden child came in hire compagnie, 
 Which as hire lust she may governe and gle, 
 For yet under the yerde^ was the maide. 
 
 dere cosin min Dan John, she saide 
 "What aileth you so rathe^ for to arise ? 
 
 Nece, quod he, it ought ynough suffiso 
 Five houres for to slepe upon a night : 
 But it were for an olde appalled wight, 
 As ben thise wedded men, that lie and dare,* 
 As in a fourme sitteth a wery hare, 
 Were al forstraught with houndes gret and smale. 
 But, dere nece, why be ye so pale ? 
 I trowe certes, that our goode man 
 Hath you laboured, sith this night began, 
 That you were nede to resten hastily. 
 And with that word he lough ful merily, 
 And of his owen thought he wexe all red. 
 
 This faire wif gan for to shake hire hed. 
 And saied thus ; Ye, God wote all, quod she. 
 Nay, cosin min, it stant not so with me. 
 For by that God, that yave me soule and lif, 
 In all the reame of Fraunce is ther no wif, 
 
 1 I.e., under control. Compare the Latin, mbferuld, 
 
 2 Early. 3 stare. 
 
13047-130S8. THE SHIPMANNES TALE. 353 
 
 That lasse lust hath to that sory play ; 
 
 For I may singe alas and wala wa 
 
 That I was borne, but to no wight (quod she) 
 
 Dare I not tell how that it stant with me. 
 
 Wherfore I thinke out of this lond to wende, 
 
 Or elles of myself to make an ende. 
 
 So ful am I of drede and eke of care. 
 
 This monk began upon this wif to stare, 
 And sayd, Alas ! my nece, God forbede, 
 That ye for any sorwe, or any drede, 
 Fordo^ j^ourself : but telleth me your grefe, 
 Paraventure I may in your mischefe 
 Conseile or lielpe : and therfore telleth me 
 All your annoy, for it shal ben secree. 
 For on my Portos" here I make an oth, 
 That never in my lif, for lefe ne loth,^ 
 Ne shal I of no conseil you bewray. 
 
 The same agen to you, quod she, I say. 
 By God and by this Portos I you swere, 
 Though men me wolden all in peces tere, 
 Ne shal I never, for to gon to helle, 
 Bewrey o word of thing that ye me tell, 
 Nought for no cosinage, ne alliance, 
 But veraily for love and affiance. 
 Thus ben they sworne, and hereupon they kiste, 
 And eche of hem told other what hem liste. 
 
 Cosin, quod she, if that I had a sj)ace. 
 As I have non, and namely in this place, 
 Than wold I tell a legend of my lif, 
 "What I have sufired sith I was a wif 
 With min husbond, al be lie your cosin. 
 
 Nay, quod this monk, by God and Seint Martin, 
 He n'is no more cosin unto me, 
 Than is the leef that hangeth on the tree: 
 I clepe him so by Seint Denis of France 
 To han the more cause of acquaintance 
 Of you, which I have loved specially 
 Aboven alio women sikerly. 
 This swere I you on my professioun : 
 Telleth your grefe, lest that he come adoun, 
 And hasteth you, and goth away anon. 
 
 My dere love, quod she, o my Dan John, 
 
 * Undo, ruin. " I.e., my Breviary. 5» "Will or niil. 
 
354 THE CANTEREUKY TALES. 13089-13124. 
 
 Ful lefe were me this conseil for to hide. 
 But out it mote, I may no lenger abide. 
 
 Myn husbond is to me the werste man, 
 That ever was sith that the world began: 
 But sith I am a wi£, it sit not me 
 To tellen no wight of our privetee, 
 Neither in bed, ne in non other place ; 
 God shilde I shulde it tellen for his grace ; 
 A wif ne shal not sayn of hire husbond 
 But all honour, as I can understond ; 
 Save unto you thus moch I tellen shal: 
 As helj)e me God, he is nought worth at all. 
 In no degree, the value of a flie. 
 But yet me greveth most his nigardie : 
 And wel ye wot, that women naturally 
 Desiren thiuges sixe, as wel as I. 
 They wolden that hir husbondes shulden be 
 Hardy, and wise, and riche, and therto free. 
 And buxome^ to his wif, and fresh a-bedde. 
 But by that ilke Lord that for us bledde, 
 For his honour myselven for to array, 
 A sonday next I muste nedes pay 
 An hundred franks, or elles am I lorne. 
 Yet were me lever that T were unborne, 
 Than me were don a sclandre or vilanie. 
 And if min husbond eke might it espie, 
 I n'ere but lost ; and therfore I you prey 
 Lene me this summe, or elles mote I dey. 
 Dan John, I say, lene me this hundred i'rankes ; 
 Parde I wol not faille you my thankes, 
 If that you list to do that I you pray. 
 For at a certain day I wol you pay. 
 And do to you what plesance and service 
 That I may don, right as you list devise: 
 And but I do, God take on me vengeance, 
 As foule as ever had Genelon" of France, 
 
 1 Obedient, ready. 
 One oiCJiarlemaigne's officers, who, by his treachery, was the cause 
 of the defeat at Roncevaux, the death of Roland, &c., for -which he was 
 torn to pieces by horsr*. This at least is the account of the author who 
 calls himself Archbishop Turpin, and of the Eomancers who followed 
 him ; upon whose credit the r\?aneofGenelon, or Gmielon, \Yas for several 
 centuries a synonymous expression for t7ie worst of traitors. Our author 
 alludes to his treachery, ver. 14699, 15233, and to his punishment, ver. 
 13124. See also Du, 1121. — Tyrwhitt, 
 
13125-13166. T[IE SHIPMANNES TALE. 355 
 
 This gentil monk answerd in tiiis manere , 
 Now trewely, min owen lady dere, 
 I have (quod lie) on yon so grete a rontlie, 
 That I you swere, and pligiite you my trouthe, 
 That whan your husbond is to Flandres fare, 
 I wol deliver you out of this care, 
 Tor I wol bringen you an hundred frankes. 
 And with that word he caught hire by the flankeSj 
 And hire embraced hard, and kiste hire oft. 
 Goth now your way, quod he, al stille and soft 
 And let us dine as sone as that ye may, 
 For by my kalender it is prime of day ; 
 Goth now, and beth as trewe as I shal be. 
 
 Now elles God forbede, sire, quod she ; 
 And forth she goth, as joly as a pie, 
 And bad the cokes that they shuld hem hie, 
 So that men mighten dine, and that anon 
 Up to hire husbond is this wif ygon, 
 And knocketh at his couutour boldely. 
 Qui est la ?^ quod he. Peter, it am I, 
 Quod she. What, sire, how longe wol ye fast ? 
 How longe time wol ye reken and cast 
 Your summes, and your bookes, and your thinges? 
 The devil have part of all swiche rekeninges. 
 Ye han ynough parde of Goddes sonde. 
 Come doun to-day, and let your bagges stonde. . 
 Ne be ye not ashamed, that Dan John 
 Shal fasting all this day elenge gon 1 
 What ? let us here a masse, and go we dine. 
 
 Wif, quod this man, litel canst thou divine 
 The curious besinesse that we have : 
 !For of us chapmen, all so God me save; 
 And by that lord that cleped is Seint Ive, 
 Scarsly amonges twenty ten shul thrive 
 Continuelly, lasting unto oure age. 
 We moun wel maken chere and good visage. 
 And driven forth the world as it may be, 
 And kepen our estat in privitee. 
 Til we be ded, or elles that we play 
 A pilgrimage, or gon out of the way. 
 And therfore have I gret necessitee 
 Upon this queinte world to avisen me. 
 
 1 Who's there ? 
 
356 THE CAl^TERBURY TALES. 131.07-13208. 
 
 For evermore mote we stond in drecle 
 Of hap and fortune in our cliapmanliede. 
 
 To riandres wol I go to-morwe at day, 
 And come agein as sone as ever I may: 
 For which, my dere wif, I thee beseke 
 As be to every wight buxom and meke, 
 And for to kepe our good be curious, 
 And honestly governe wel our hous. 
 Thou hast ynough, in every maner wise, 
 That to a thrifty houshold may sufiice 
 Thee lacketh non array, ne no vitaiile ; 
 Of silver in thy purse shalt thou not faille. 
 And with that word his countour dore he shetts, 
 And doun he goth ; no lenger wold he lette; 
 And hastily a masse was ther saide. 
 And spedily the tables were ylaide, 
 And to the diner faste they hem spedde, 
 And richely this monk the chapman fedde. 
 
 And after diner Dan John sobrely 
 This chapman toke apart, and prively 
 He said him thus ; Cosin, it stondeth so, 
 That, wel I see, to Brugges ye wol go, 
 God and Seint Austin spede you and gide. 
 I pray you, cosin, wisely that ye ride ; 
 Governeth you also of your diete 
 Attemprely, and namely^ in this hete. 
 Betwix us two nedeth no strange fare ; 
 Farewel, cosin, God shilde you fro care. 
 If any thing ther be by day or night. 
 If it lie in my power and my might, 
 That ye me wol command in any wise. 
 It shal be don, right as ye v/ol devise. 
 
 But thing or ye go, if it may be, 
 I wolde prayen you for to lene me 
 An hundred frankes for a weke or tweye, 
 For certain bestes that I muste beye, 
 To storen with a place that is oures : 
 (God helpe me so, I wold that it were youres) 
 I shal not faille surely of my day, 
 Not for a thousand frankes, a mile way. 
 But let this thing be secree, I you preye ; 
 For yet to-night thise bestes mote I beye.^ 
 
 1 Especially. 2 Buy. 
 
1320C— 13250. THE SHIPMANNES TALE. 357 
 
 And fare now wel, min owen cosin dere, 
 Grand mercy of your cost and of your chere. 
 
 This noble marcliant gentilly anon 
 Answerd and said, O cosin min Dan John, 
 Now sikerly this is a smal requeste : 
 My gold is youres, whan that it you leste, 
 And not only my gold, but my chafFare : 
 Take what you lest, God shilde that ye spare. 
 But o thing is, ye know it wel ynough 
 Of chapmen, that hir money is hir plough. 
 We moun creancen^ while we han a name, 
 But goodies for to ben it is no game. 
 Pay it agen, whan it lith in your ese ; 
 After my might lul fayn wold I you plese. 
 
 Thise hundred frankes fet he forth anon, 
 And prively he toke hem to Dan John : 
 No wight in al this world wist of this lone. 
 Saving this marchant, and Dan John alone. 
 They drmke, and speke, and rome a while and pleye, 
 Til that Dan John rideth to his abbeye. 
 
 The morwe came, and forth this marchant rideth 
 To Flandres ward, his prentis wel him gideth, 
 Til he came in to Brugges merily. 
 Now goth this marchant faste and besily 
 About his nede, and bieth, and creanceth \ 
 He neither playeth at the dis, ne danceth ; 
 But as a marchant, shortly for to tell. 
 He ledeth his lif, and ther I let him dwell. 
 
 The sonday next the marchant was agon, 
 To Seint Denis yeomen is Dan John, 
 With croune and berde all fresh and newe yshave. 
 In all the hous ther n'as so litel a knave, 
 Ne no wight elles, that he n'as ful faki. 
 For that my lord Dan John was come again. 
 And shortly to the point right for to gon. 
 This faire wif accordeth with Dan John, 
 That for thise hundred frankes he shuld all night 
 Haven hire in his armes bolt-upright : 
 And this accord parformed was in dede. 
 In mirth all night a besy lif they lede 
 Til it was day, that Dan John yede his way, 
 And bad the meinie" farewel, have good day. 
 
 1 Borrow 
 
 money. 
 
358 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 13251-13290. 
 
 For non of hem, ne no wight in the toun, 
 Hath of Dan John right non sns^pectiounj 
 And forth he rideth home to his abbey, 
 Or wher him liste, no more of him I sey. 
 
 This march ant, whan that ended was the faire, 
 To Seint Denis he gan for to repaire, 
 And with his wif he maketh feste and chere, 
 And telleth hire that chaffare is so dere, 
 That nedes muste he make a chevisance,^ 
 For he was bonde in a recognisance, 
 To payen twenty thousand sheldes^' anon. 
 For which this marchant is to Paris gon 
 To borwe of certain frendes that he hadde 
 A certain frankes,^ and som with him he ladde. 
 And whan that he was come in to the toun, 
 For gret chiertee and gret affectioun 
 Unto Dan John he goth him first to pleye ; 
 Not for to axe or borwe of him moneye, 
 But for to wete and seen of his welfare, 
 And for to tellen him of his chaffare, 
 As frendes don, whan they ben mette in fere.'* 
 
 Dan John him maketh feste and mery chere 5 
 And he him tolde agen ful specially, 
 How he had wel ybought and graciously 
 (Thanked be God) all hole his marchandise: 
 Save that he must in alle manere wise 
 Maken a chevisance, as for his beste : 
 And than he shulde ben in joye and reste. 
 Dan John answered, Certes I am fain,^ 
 That ye in hele be comen home again : 
 And if that I were riche, as have I blisse, 
 Of twenty thousand sheldes shuld ye not misse, 
 For ye so kyidely this other day 
 Lente me gold, and as I can and may 
 I thanke you, by God and by Seint Jame. 
 But natheles I toke unto our Dame, 
 Your wif at home, the sa-me gold again 
 Upon your benche, she wote it wel certain, 
 By certain tokenes that I can hire tell. 
 Now by your leve, I may no lenger dwell ; 
 
 * An agreement for borrowing money. 
 
 2 Crowns, so called from one side of them bearing the device of a shield, 
 
 3 I.e., a certain number of francs. 
 
 * Together. o Glad. 
 
13291-13334. THE SHIPMANNES TALE. 359 
 
 Our abbot wol out of this toun anon, 
 And in his compagnie I muste gon. 
 Grete wel our dame, min owen nece swete, 
 And farewel, dere cosin, til we mete. 
 
 This mar chant, which that was ful ware and wise, 
 Creanced hath, and paid eke in Paris 
 To certain Lumbardes redy in hir hond 
 The summe of gold, and gate of hem his bond, 
 And home he goth, mery as a popingay. 
 Por wel he knew he stood in swiche array, 
 That nedes muste he winne in that viage 
 A thousand frankes, above all his costage. 
 
 His wif ful redy mette him at the gate, 
 As she was wont of old usage algate : 
 And all that night in mu^the they ben sette, 
 For he was riche, and clerely out of dette. 
 Whan it was day, this marchant gan enbracs 
 His wif all newe, and kiste hire in hire face. 
 And up he goth, and maketh it ful tough. 
 No more, quod she, by God ye have ynough; 
 And wantonly agen with him she plaide, 
 Til at the last this marchant to hu-e saide. 
 
 By God, quod he, I am a litel wrothe 
 With you, my wif, although it be me lothe : 
 And wote ye why ? by God, as that I gesse, 
 That ye han made a manere strangenesse 
 Betwixen me and my cosin Dan John. 
 Ye shuld have warned me, or I had gon. 
 That he you had an hundred frankes paide 
 By redy token : and held him evil apaide, 
 For that I to him spake of chevisance: 
 (Me semed so as by his contenance) 
 But natheles by God our heven kmg. 
 I thoughte not to axe of him no thing. 
 I pray thee, wif, ne do thou no more so. 
 Tell me alway, er that I fro thee go, 
 If any dettour hath in min absence 
 Ypaide thee, lest thurgh thy negligence 
 I might him axe a thing that he hath paide» 
 
 This wif was not aferde ne affraide, 
 But boldely she saide, and that anon ; 
 Mary I delie that false monk Dan John, 
 I kepe not of his tokenes never a del: 
 He toke me certain gold, I wote it wel. 
 31 
 
360 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 1333S-133C4. 
 
 What ? evil thedome on liis monkes snoute ! 
 For, God it wote, I wend withouten doute, 
 That he had yeve it me, because of you, 
 To don therwith min honour and my prow, 
 For cosinage, and eke for belle chere 
 That he hath had ful often times here. 
 But sith I see I stonde in swiche disjoint, 
 I wol answere you shortly to the point. 
 
 Ye have mo slakke dettours than am I : 
 For I wol pay you wel and redily 
 Fro day to day, and if so be I faille, 
 I am your wif, score it upon my taile, 
 And I shal pay as sone as ever I may. 
 For by my trouth, I have on min array, 
 And not in waste, bestowed it every del. 
 And for I have bestowed it so wel 
 For your honour, for Goddes sake I say. 
 As beth not wrothe, but let us laugh and play. 
 Ye shal my joly body han to wedde: 
 By God I n'ill not pay you but a-bedde 
 Foryeve it me, jain owen spouse dere ; 
 Turne hitherward and maketh better chere. 
 
 This marchant saw ther was no remedy: 
 And for to chide, it n'ere but a foly, 
 Sith that the thing may not amended be. 
 Now, wif, he said, and I foryeve it thee ; 
 But by thy lif ne be no more so large -^ 
 Kepe bet my good, this yeve I thee in charge. 
 Thus endeth now my tale, and God us sende 
 Taling ynough, unto our lives ende. 
 
 1 Free. 
 
 1 
 
361 
 THE PEIOEESSES PEOLOGUE. 
 
 13365-133S9. 
 
 "Wel said by corpus Domini, quod onr hoste, 
 Now longe mote thou sailen by tlie coste, 
 Thou gentil maister, gentil marinere. 
 God give the monke a thousand last quad yera* 
 A ha, felawes, beth ware of swiche a jape. 
 The monke put in the mannes hode an ape,' 
 And in his wiles eke, by Seint Austin. 
 Draweth no monkes more into your in. 
 
 But now passe over, and let us seke aboute, 
 Who shal now tellen first of all this route 
 Another tale : and with that word he said, 
 As curteisly as it had ben a maid, 
 
 My lady Prioresse, by your leve. 
 So that I wist I shuld you not agreve, 
 I wolde demen, that ye tellen shold 
 A tale next, if so were that ye wold. 
 Now wol ye vouchesauf, my lady dere ? 
 
 Gladly, quod she, and saide as ye shul here. 
 
 Lord our lord, thy name how merveillous 
 Is in this large world ysprad ! (quod she) 
 For not al only thy laude precious 
 Parfourmed is by men of dignitee, 
 Eut by the mouth of children thy bountee 
 Parfourmed is, for on the brest souking 
 Somtime shewen they thin herying.^ 
 
 * I.e., God give the monk a thousand last {i.e., burdens, weights,) of 
 bad years — i.e., ever so much misfortune. 
 2 I.€., made a fool of him. 3 Praise. 
 
362 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 13390-13429. 
 
 Wlierfore in laude, as I can best and may, 
 Of thee a,nd of the white lily flour, 
 Which that thee bare, and is a maide alway, 
 To tell a storie I wol do my labour ; 
 Not that T may encresen hire honour, 
 For she hireselven is honour and rote 
 Of bountee, next hire sone, and soules bote.* 
 
 O mother maide, o maide and mother fre, 
 O bushe unbrent, brenning in Moyses sight, 
 That ravishedest doun fro the deitee, 
 Thurgh thin humblesse, the gost that in thee aliglit: 
 Of whos vertue, whan he thin herte light. 
 Conceived was the fathers sapience : 
 Helpe me to tell it in thy reverence. 
 
 Lady, thy bountee, thy magnificence, 
 . Thy vertue and thy gret humilitee, 
 Ther may no tonge expresse in no science : 
 For somtime, lady, or men pray to thee, 
 Thou gost beforn- of thy benignitee, 
 And getest us the light, of thy prayere. 
 To giden us unto thy sone so dere. 
 
 My conning is so weke, o blisful quene^ 
 For to declare thy grete worthinesse. 
 That I ne may the weighte not sustene ; 
 But as a child o! twelf moneth old or lesse. 
 That can unnethes^ any word expresse, 
 Eight so fare I, and therfore I you pray, 
 Gideth my song, that I shal of you say. 
 
 Ther was in Asie, in a gret citee, 
 Amonges Cristen folk a Jewerie,^ 
 Sustened by a lord of that contree. 
 For foule usure, and lucre of vilanie, 
 Hateful to Crist, and to his compagnie : 
 And thurgh the strete men mighten ride and wende, 
 For it was free, and open at eyther ende. 
 
 A litel scole of Cristen folk ther stood 
 Doun at the ferther ende, in which ther were 
 Children an hepe comen of Cristen blood, 
 That lerned in that scole yere by yere, 
 Swiche manere doctrine as men used there: 
 Profit 2 Goest before. 3 with difficulty,. 
 
 * Like our " Jewry," a district innabited by Jews. 
 
13430-13466. THE PRIORESSES TALE. 363 
 
 This is to say, to singen and to rede, 
 As smale children don in hir childhede. 
 
 Among thise children was a widewes sone, 
 A litel clergion,^ sevene yere of age, 
 That day by day to scole was his wone, 
 And eke also, wheras he sey the image 
 Of Cristes moder, had he in usage. 
 As him was taught, to knele adoun, and say 
 Ave Marie, as he goth by the way. 
 
 Thus hath this widewe hire litel sone ytaught 
 Our blisful Lady, Cristes moder dere, 
 To worship ay, and he forgate it naught: 
 For sely^ childe wol alway sone lere. 
 But ay, whan I remembre on this matere, 
 Seint Nicholas stant ever in my presence. 
 For he so yong to Crist did reverence.^ 
 
 This litel childe his litel book lerning, 
 As he sate in the scole at his primere, 
 He Alma redemptoris herde sing, 
 As children lered hir antiphonere:"* 
 And as he dorst, he drow him nere and nere. 
 And herkened ay the wordes and the note, 
 Til he the firste vers coude-^ al by rote. 
 
 Nought wist he what this Latin was to say, 
 For he so yonge and tendre was of age ; 
 But on a day his felaw gan he pray 
 To expounden him this song in his langage, 
 Or telle him why this song was in usage : 
 This prayde he him to construe and declare, 
 Ful often time u23on his knees bare. 
 
 His felaw, which that elder was than he, 
 Answerd him thus : This song, I have herd say, 
 "Was maked of our blisful Lady fre, 
 Hire to salue, and eke hire for to prey 
 To ben our help, and socour whan we dey. 
 I can no more expound in this matere : 
 I lerne song, I can but smai grammere. 
 
 1 A young clerk. - Simple. 
 
 3 So precious was the piety of this Saint, that, as an infant, he only 
 6ucked the breast once on Wednesdays and Fridays. 
 
 4 I.e , the responses of the choral service. 5 Knew. 
 
364 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 134G7-1350S, 
 
 And is this song maked in reverence 
 Of Cristes moder ? said this innocent ; 
 Now certes I wol don my diligence 
 To conne it ail, or Cristemasse be went, 
 Though that I for my primer shal be shent, 
 And shal he beten thries in an hoiire, 
 I wol it conne, our Ladie for to honoure. 
 
 His felaw taught him homeward prively 
 Ero day to day, til he coude it by rote, 
 And than he song it wel and boldely 
 Fro word to word according with, the note : 
 Twies a day it passed thurgh his throte, 
 To scolew»,rd and homeward whan he wente: 
 On Cristes moder set was his entente. 
 
 As T have said, thurghout the Jewerie 
 This litel child as he came to and fro, 
 Tul merily than wold he sing and crie, 
 Alma redem'ptoris, ever mo : 
 The swetenesse hath his herte persed so 
 Of Cristes moder, that to hire to pray 
 He cannot stint of singing by the way. 
 
 Our firste fo, the serpent Sathanas, 
 That hath in Jewes herte his waspes nest, 
 Up swale and said, O Ebraike^ peple, alas ! 
 Is this to you a thing that is honest, 
 That swiche a boy shal walken as him leste 
 In your despit, and sing of swiche sentence, 
 Which is again our lawes reverence 1 
 
 From thennesforth the Jewes han conspired 
 This innocent out of this world to chace : 
 An homicide therto han they hiredy 
 That in an aleye had a privee place. 
 And as the child gan forthby for to pace. 
 This cursed Jew him hent, and held him fast, 
 And cut his throte, and in a pit him cast. 
 
 I say that in a wardrope they him threwe, 
 Wher as thise Jewes purgen hir entraille. 
 O cursed folk, of Herodes alle newe, 
 What may your evil entente you availle ? 
 Mordre wol out, certain it wol not faille, 
 
 1 Punished. 2 Hebrew. 
 
13507-13543. THE PRIOEESSES TALE. 365 
 
 And namely tlier the hononr of God slial sprede; 
 Tlie blood out crieth on yx)ur cursed dede. 
 
 O martyr souded in^ virginitee, 
 Now maist tliou singe, and folwen ever in on 
 The white lamb celestial, quod she, 
 Of which the gret Evangelist Seint John 
 In Pathmos wrote, which sayth that they that gon 
 Beforn this lamb, and singe a song al newe. 
 That never fleshly woman they ne knewe. • 
 
 « 
 
 This jDOure widewe awaiteth al that night 
 After hire litel childe, and he came nought: 
 For which as sone as it was dayes light, 
 With face pale of drede and besy thought, 
 She hath at scole and elleswher him sought, 
 Til finally she gan so fer aspie, 
 That he last seen was in the Jewerie. 
 
 With modres pitee in hire brest enclosed 
 She goth, as she were half out of hu-e minde, 
 To every place, wher she hath supposed 
 By likelihed hire litel child to finde: 
 And ever on Cristes moder meke and kinde 
 She cried, and at the laste thus she wrought, 
 Among the cursed Jewes she him sought. 
 
 She freynetlr and she praieth pitously 
 To every Jew that dwelled in thilke place, 
 To telle hire, if hire child went ought forthby; 
 They sayden, Nay ; but Jesu of his grace 
 Yave in hire thought, within a litel space. 
 That in that place after hire sone she cride, 
 Ther he was casten in a pit beside. 
 
 O grete God, that parformest thy laude 
 By mouth of innocentes, lo here thy might ! 
 This gemme of chastitee, this emeraude, 
 And eke of martirdome the ruble bright, 
 Ther he with throte ycorven lay upright, 
 He Alma redemptoris gan to singe 
 So loude, that all the place gan to ringe. 
 
 1 I.e., consolidated, closely attached to. 
 
 2 Asketh, inquireth. 
 
366 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 13544-13576, 
 
 The Cristen folk that thurgli the strete wente, 
 In comen, for to wondre upon this thing : 
 And hastifly they for the provost sente. 
 He came anon, withouten tarying, 
 And herieth^ Crist, that is of heven king, 
 And eke his moder, honour of mankind, 
 And after that the Jewes let he hinde. 
 
 This child with pitous lamentation 
 "Was taken up, singing his song alway : 
 And with honour and gret procession, 
 They carien him unto the next abbey. 
 His moder swouning by the bere lay; 
 Unnethes might the peple that was there 
 This newe Eachel bringen fro his bere. 
 
 "With turment, and with shameful deth eche on 
 This provost doth thise Jewes for to sterve, 
 That of this morder wiste, and that anon ; 
 He n'olde no swiche cursednesse observe : 
 Evil shal he have, that evil wol deserve. 
 Therfore with wilde hors he did hem drawe, 
 And after that he heng hem by the lawe. 
 
 Upon his bere ay lith this innocent 
 Beforn the auter while the masse last : 
 And after that, the abbot with his covent 
 Han spedde hem for to berie him ful fast : 
 And whan they holy water on him cast, 
 Yet spake this child, whan spreuit was the holy water, 
 And sang, o Alma redemjptoris mater. 
 
 This abbot, which that was an holy man, 
 As monkes ben, or elles ought to be. 
 This yonge child to conjure he began. 
 And said ; O dere child, I halse" thee 
 In vertue of the holy Trinitee, 
 
 1 Praiseth. 
 
 2 MSS. Ask. I. 2. read "I conjure thee" — but that seems to be a gloss. 
 To halse signifies properly to embrace round the neck, from the Sax. hols, 
 the neck. See ver. 10253. So in CL. ver. 1290: I stand and speke 
 and laugh and kisse and halse. It signifies also to salute, P. P. fol. xxii. : 
 I halse hym hendlich, as I hys frende were ; and fol. xxxix. to salute 
 
 ''h reverence: And the eleven sterres halsed him all— which seems to 
 oe the sense here. — Tyrwhitt. 
 
 
13a77"13613. THE PRIORESSES TALE. 367 
 
 Tell me what is thy cause for to sing, 
 Sith that thy throte is cut to my seming. 
 
 My throte is cut unto my nekke-bon, 
 Saide this child, and as by way oi kinde 
 I shuld have deyd, ye longe time agon : 
 But Jesu Crist, as ye in bookes finde, 
 Wol that his glory last and be in minde. 
 And for the worship of his moder dere, 
 Yet may I sing o Alma loude and clere, 
 
 This welle of mercie, Cristes moder swete, 
 I loved alway, as after my conning ; 
 And whan that I my lif shulde lorlete, 
 To me she came, and bad me ior to sing 
 This antem veraily in my dying, 
 As ye han lierde, and, whan that I had songe, 
 Me thought she laid a grain upon my tonge. 
 
 Wherfore I sing, and sing I mote certain 
 In honour of that blisful maiden free^ 
 Til fro my tonge of taken is the grain.: 
 And after that thus saide she to me ; 
 My litel child, than wol I fetchen thee, 
 Whan that the grain is fro thy tong ytake: 
 Be not agaste, I wol thee not forsake. 
 
 This holy monk, this abbot him mene I, 
 His tonge out caught, and toke away the grain j 
 And he yave up the gost ful softely. 
 And whan this abbot had this wonder sein, 
 His salte teres trilled adoun as reyne ; 
 And groff*^ he fell al platte upon the ground, 
 And still he lay, as he had ben ybound. 
 
 The covent lay eke upon the pavement 
 TVeping and her^dng- Cristes moder dere. 
 And after that they risen, and forth ben went, 
 And toke away this martir fro his here, 
 And in a tombe of marble stones clere 
 Enclosen they his litel body swete : 
 Ther^ he is now, God lene^ us for to mete. 
 
 1 Flat on the ground. 2 Praising. 
 
 * Where. •* Grant. 
 
368 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 13614-13620 
 
 O yonge Hew^ of Lincoln, slain also 
 Witli cursed Jewes, as it is notable, 
 For it n'is but a litel while ago, 
 Pray eke for ns, we sinful folk unstable 
 That of bis mercy God so merciable 
 On us his grete mercie multiplie, 
 For reverence of his moder Marie. 
 
 i Hugh. See the Introduction. 
 
369 
 
 PROLOGUE TO SIRE THOPAS. 
 
 13631-13647. 
 
 Whan said was this miracle, every man 
 
 As sober was, that wonder was to see, 
 
 Til that our hoste to japen he began, 
 
 And than at erst he loked upon me,^ 
 
 And saide thus ; What man art thou? quod he. 
 
 Thou lokest; as thou woldest finde an hare, 
 
 For ever upon the ground I see thee stare. 
 
 Approche nere, and loke up merily. 
 Now ware you, sires, and let this man have place. 
 He in the waste is shapen as wel as I: 
 This were a popet in an arme to enbrace_ 
 For any woman, smal and faire of face. 
 He semeth elvish by his contenance, 
 For unto no wight doth he daliance. 
 
 Say now somwhat, sin other folk han saidc ; 
 Tell us a tale of mirthe and that anon. 
 Hoste, quod I, ne be not evil apaide, 
 Tor other tale certes can I non, 
 But of a rime I lerned yore agon. 
 Ye, that is good, quod he, we shullen here 
 Som deintee thing, me thinketh by thy chere. 
 
 LiSTENETH, lordinges, in good entent, 
 And I wol tell you verament 
 
 Of mirthe and of solas, 
 Al of a knight was faire and gent 
 In bataille and in turnament, 
 
 His name was su-e Thopas. 
 
 I J. e., Chaucer himself. 
 
370 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 13648-13668. 
 
 Yborne he was in fer contree, 
 In Flandres, al beyonde the see, 
 
 At Popering^ in the place, 
 His father was a man ful free, 
 And lord he was of that contree, 
 
 As it was Goddes grace. 
 
 Sire Thopas was a doughty swain, 
 White was his face as paindemaine^ 
 
 His lippes red as rose. 
 His rudde^ is like scarlet in grain, 
 And I you tell in good certain 
 
 He had a semely nose. 
 
 His here, his berde, was like safroun. 
 That to his girdle raught"* adoun. 
 
 His shoon of cordewane ; 
 Of Brugges were his hosen broun ; 
 His robe was of ciclatoun/ 
 
 That coste many a jane.^ 
 
 He coude hunt at the wilde dere, 
 And ride on hanking for the rivere^ 
 With grey goshauk on honde : 
 
 1 Peppering or Poppeling was the name of a parish the Marches 
 of Calais. 
 
 2 Some very white bread, probably taking its name fr ):u the province 
 of Maine, 3 Complexion. 4 Uj fgH. 
 
 5 The glossaries suppose this word to be compounded of chelte and 
 latoun, a species of base metal like gold : but it seems rather to be merely 
 a corruption of the Fr. Cidaton ; which originally signified a circular 
 robe of state, from the Gr. Lat, Cyclas; and afterwards the cloth of gold, 
 of which such robes were generally made. Du Cange in v. Cyclas has 
 produced instances enough of both senses. In fact several MSS. read 
 Cidaton ; and I have no excuse for not having followed them, but that I 
 was misled by the authority of Spenser, as quoted by Mr. Warton, Obs. on 
 Sp. V. i. p. 194. Upon further consideration, I think it is plain, that Spen- 
 ser was mistaken in the very foundation of his notion, "that the quilted 
 Irish jacket embroidered with gilded leather" had any resemblance to 
 " the robe of Shecklaton." He supposes, that Chaucer is here describing 
 Sir Thopas, as he werd to fight against the Giant, in his robe of Shecklaton ; 
 whereas, on the contrary, it is evident that Sir Thopas is here described 
 in his usual habit in time of peace. His warlike apparel, when he goes to 
 fight against the Giant, is described below, ver. 1378G and foil, and is 
 totally different. — Tyrichitt. 
 
 6 /. e., a coin of Genoa. 7 Hawking at waterfowl. 
 
13GG9-13704. THE BIME OF SIRE THOPAS. S71 
 
 Tlierto he was a good arcliere, 
 Of wrastling was ther non his pere, 
 Ther ony ram^ shuld stonde. 
 
 Ful many a maide bright in bonr 
 They mourned for him^ar amour y 
 
 Whan hem were bet to slepe ; 
 But he was chaste and no lechour, 
 And swete as is the bramble flour, 
 
 That bereth the red hepe.- 
 
 And so it fell upon a day, 
 Forsoth, as I you tellen may, 
 
 Sire Thopas wold out ride ; 
 He worth upon his stede gray, 
 And in his hond a launcegay,^ 
 
 A long swerd by his side. 
 
 He priketh^ thurgh a faire forest, 
 Therin is many a Y>dlde best, 
 
 Ye bothe buck and hare, 
 And as he priked North and Est, 
 I telle it you, him had almeste 
 
 Betidde a sory care. 
 
 Ther springen herbes grete and smale 
 L • The licoris and the setewale,^ 
 
 I, And many a clone gilofre,*^ 
 
 ^' And notemuge to put in ale, 
 
 Y/hether it be moist or stale, 
 Or for to lain in cofre. 
 
 The briddes singen, it is no nay, 
 The sperhauk and the popingay, 
 
 That joye it was to here, 
 The throstel cok made eke his lay, 
 The wode dove upon the spray 
 
 He sang ful loude and clere. 
 
 Sire Thopas fell in love-longing 
 Al whan he herd the throstel sing, 
 And priked as he were wood -^ 
 
 ' The usual prize at wrestling. 2 jhe fruit of the dog rose. 
 
 3 A kind of pike or spear. — See Tyrwliitt. ^ Rideth. 
 
 * Valerian. ^ Either a clove-tree, or its fruit. ^ Mad. 
 
372 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 13705 « 13/37. 
 
 His faire stede in his priking 
 So swatte, that men might him wring, 
 His sides were al blood. 
 
 Sire Thoj)as eke so wery was 
 For priking on the softe gras, 
 
 So fiers was his corage, 
 That doun he laid him in that place 
 To maken his stede som solace, 
 
 And yaf him good forage. 
 
 A, Seinte Mary, henedicite, 
 What aileth this love at me 
 
 To binde me so sore 1 
 Me dremed all this night parde, 
 An elf-quene shal my lemman ba, 
 
 And slepe under my gore.^ 
 
 An elf-qnene wol I love ywis, 
 For in this world no woman is 
 
 "Worthy to be my make^ || in toiin,— 
 All other women I forsake, 
 And to an elf-qnene I me take 
 
 By dale and eke by doun. 
 
 Into his sadel he clombe anon, 
 ^nd priked over stile and ston 
 
 An elf-quene for to espie, 
 Til he so long had ridden and gone, 
 That he fond in a jjrivee wone 
 
 The contree of Faerie. 
 
 Wherin he soughte North and South, 
 And oft he spied with his mouth 
 
 In many a forest wilde, 
 For in that contree n'as ther non, 
 That to him dorst ride or gon, 
 
 Neither wif ne childe. 
 
 1 See note on vs. 3237. 
 
 2 Mate. The mark 1| is placed by Tyrwhitt, on the authority of 3tSS. 
 There is probably something wanting in each instance where it occurs. 
 
13738-13776. THE RIME OF SIRE THOPAS. 373 
 
 Til that ther came a gret geaunt, 
 His name was Sire Olipliaunt/ 
 
 A perilous man of dede, 
 He sayde, Child, by Termagaunt,^ 
 But if thou prike out of myn haunt, 
 
 Anon I slee thy stede || with mace— 
 Here is the Quene of Faerie, 
 "With harpe, and pipe, and simphonie 
 
 Dwelling in this place. 
 
 The child sayd, Al so mote I the, 
 To morwe wol I meten thee, 
 
 Whan I have min armoure, 
 And yet I ho-pe par ma fay, 
 That thou shalt with this launcegay 
 
 Abien it ful soure ; || thy mawe^» 
 Shal I perce, if I may, 
 Or it be fully prime of the day, 
 
 For here thou shalt be slawe. 
 
 I Sire Thopas drow abak ful fast ; 
 
 This geaunt at him stones cast 
 
 Out of a fel staife sling : 
 But faire escaped child Thopas, 
 And all it was thurgh Goddes grace, 
 
 And thurgh his faire bering. 
 
 Yet listeneth, lordings, to my tale, 
 Merier than the nightingale, 
 
 For now I wol you roune. 
 How Sire Thopas with sides smale, 
 Priking over hill and dale. 
 
 Is comen agein to toune. 
 
 His mery men commandeth he, 
 To maken him bothe game and gle. 
 
 For nedes must he fighte, 
 With a geaunt with hedes three, 
 For paramour and jolitee 
 
 Of on that shone ful brighte. 
 
 Do come, he sayd, my minestrales 
 And gestours^ for to tellen tales 
 Anon in min. arming, 
 
 1 Elephant, a proper name for a giant. 
 
 2 A Saracen deity. 3 gee TyrwUti, 
 
374 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 13777-13809. 
 
 Of romannces that ben reales,^ 
 Of popes and of cardinales, 
 And eke of love-longing. 
 
 They fet him first the swete wiuj 
 And mede eke in a maselin/ 
 
 And real spicerie, 
 Of ginger-bred that was ful fin, 
 And licoris and eke coming 
 
 With suger that is trie."^ 
 
 He didde^ next his white lere® 
 Of cloth of lake'' fin and clere 
 
 A breche and eke a sherte, 
 And next his shert an haketon,^ 
 And over that an habergeon, 
 
 For percing of his herte, > 
 
 And over that a fin hanberk, 
 "Was all y wrought of Jewes werk, 
 
 Ful strong it was of plate, 
 And over that his cote-armoure, 
 As white as is the lily floiire. 
 
 In which he wold debate.^ 
 
 His sheld was all of gold so red, 
 And therin was a bores hed, 
 
 A charboucle^'^ beside ; 
 And ther he swore on ale and bred 
 How that the geaunt shuld be ded, 
 
 Betide what so betide. 
 
 His jambeux^^ were of cuirbouly,^^ 
 His swerdes sheth of ivory, 
 
 His helme of latonn bright. 
 His sadel was of rewel bone,^^ 
 His bridel as the sonne shone, 
 
 Or as the mone light. 
 
 * Royal. 2 j^ mayerin, a drinking-ciip. 
 
 3 Cummin seed. 4 Tried, refined. ^ Put on. 
 
 6 Complexion. 7 It is uncertain wliat kind of clotli is meant, 
 
 s A short, sleeveless cassock. 9 Fight. 
 
 10 Carbuncle. n Boots. 
 
 ^ Cuir bouilli, i.e., hide, leather, soaked in hot water* 
 '3 See Appendix, 
 
13810-13846. THE EIME OF SIRE THOPAS. 375 
 
 His spere was of fin cypres, 
 
 Tliat bodetli werre, and nothing pees, 
 
 The hed ful sharpe ygronnd. 
 His stede was all dapple gray, 
 It goth an aurable in the way 
 
 Ful softely and round |1 in londe— 
 Lo, Lordes min, here is a fit; 
 If ye wol ony more of it, 
 
 To telle it wol I fond. 
 
 ISTow hold your mouth pour cJiarite, 
 Bothe knight and lady fre, 
 
 And herkeneth to my spell, 
 Of bataille and of chevalrie. 
 Of ladies love and druerie,^ 
 
 Anon I wol you tell. 
 
 Men speken of romaunces of pris, 
 Of Hornchild, and of Ipotis, 
 
 Of Be vis, and Sire Guy, 
 Of Sire Libeux, and Pleindamour, 
 But Sire Thopas, he bereth the flour 
 
 Of real chevalrie. 
 
 His goode stede he al bestrode, 
 And forth upon his way he glode,- 
 
 As sparcle out of bronde ;^ 
 Upon his crest he bare a tour, 
 And therin stiked a lily flour, 
 
 God shilde his corps fro shonde."* 
 
 And for he was a knight auntrous,* 
 He n'olde slepen in non hous. 
 
 But liggen in his hood, 
 His briglite helm was his wanger,^ 
 And by him baited his destrer'' 
 
 Of herbes^ fin and good. 
 
 Himself drank water of the well, ^ 
 As did the knight Sire PerciveU 
 
 So worthy under wede, 
 Til on a day 
 
 1 Gallantry. 2 Glided. 3 Brand. 
 
 4 Destruction. 5 Adventurous. 6 PiUow. 
 
 7 Warhorse, dextrarius. s Baited of, i.e., fed on. 
 
1 
 
 376 
 PEOLOGTJE TO MELIBEUS. 
 
 13S47-13S80. 
 
 Ko more of this for Goddes dignitee, 
 Quod oiire lioste, for thou makest me 
 So wery of thy veray lewednesse, 
 That al so wisly God my soule blesse, 
 Mill eres aken of thy drafty^ speche. 
 Now swiche a rime the devil I beteche ; 
 This may wel be rime dogerel, quod he. 
 
 "Why so ? quod I, "why wolt thou letten^ me 
 More of my tale, than an other man, 
 Sin that it is the beste rime I can ? 
 
 By God, quod he, for plainly at o word, 
 Thy drafty riming is not worth a tord: 
 Thou dost nought elles but dispendest time. 
 Sire, at o word, thou shalt no lenger rime. 
 Let see wher thou canst tellen ought in geste, 
 Or tellen in prose somwhat at the leste. 
 In which ther be som mirthe or som doctrine. 
 
 Gladly, quod I, by Goddes swete pine 
 I wol you tell a litel thing in prose. 
 That oughte liken you, as I suj^pose. 
 Or elles certes ye be to dangerous. 
 It is a moral tale vertuous, 
 Al be it told somtime in sondry wise 
 Of sondry folk, as I shal you devise. 
 
 As thus, ye wote that every Evangelist, 
 That telleth us the peine of Jesu Crist, 
 Ne saith not alle thing as his felaw doth: 
 But natheles hir sentence is al soth, 
 And alle apcorden as in hir sentence, 
 Al be ther in hir telling difference : 
 For som of hem say more, and som say lesse, 
 "VVhan they his pitous passion expresse ; 
 I mene of Mark and Mathew, Luke and John, 
 But douteles hir sentence is all on. 
 
 1 Trumpery. 2 Hinder. 
 
13SS1-3 3S94. THE TALE OF 3IELIEEU3. 377 
 
 Therfore, lordinges all, I you beseche. 
 If that ye thinke I vary in my speche, 
 As thus, though that I telle som del more 
 Of proverbes, than ye ban herde before 
 Comprehended in this litel tretise here. 
 To enforeen vrith the eiiect of my matere. 
 And though I not the same wordes say 
 As ye ban herde, yet to you alle I pray 
 Blameth me not, for, as in my sentence, 
 Shul ye nowher finden no difference 
 Pro the sentence of thilke tretise lite, 
 After the which this mery tale I write. 
 And therfore herkeneth what I shal say, 
 And let me tellen all my tale I pray. 
 
 Zln Cale of |!leHbeirs* 
 
 A TONGE man called Melibeus, mighty and riche, begate 
 upon his wif, that called was Prudence, a doughter which 
 that called was Sophie.^ 
 
 Upon a day befell, that he for his disport is went into 
 the feldes him to playe. His wif and eke Ms doughter 
 hath he laft within his hous, of which the dores weren fast 
 yshette. Foure of his olde foos ban it espied, and setten 
 ladders to the walles of his hous, and by the windowes ben 
 entred, and beten his wif, and wounded his doughter with 
 five mortal woundes, in five sondry places ; this is to say, 
 in hire feet, in hire hondes, ia hire eres, m hire nose, and 
 in hire mouth ; and leften hu-e for dede, and wenten away. 
 
 Whan Melibeus retorned was into his hous, and sey al 
 this meschief, he, like a mad man, rending his clothes gan 
 to wepe and crie. 
 
 Prudence his wif, as fer forth as she dorste, besought him 
 of his wepiag for to stint : but not forthy- he gan to crie and 
 wepen ever lenger the more. 
 
 This noble wif Prudence remembred hire upon the sen- 
 tence of Ovide, in his book that cleped is the Eemedie of 
 
 1 I. €., -wisdom. The reader -will doubtless observe (as Thomas and 
 Tyrwhitt have noticed) that the earlier pages of this tale appear to be 
 Written in a species of blank verse. 2 Therefore. 
 
378 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 love, wheras lie saith; lie is a fool that distoiirbeth the 
 moder to v»^epe, in the deth of hire childe, til she have wept 
 hire fille, as for a certain time : and than shal a man don 
 his diligence with amiable wordes hire to recontorte and 
 preye hire of hire weping for to stinte. For which reson 
 this noble wif Prudence suftred hire housbond for to wepe 
 and crie, as for a certain space ; and whan she saw hire 
 time, she sayde to him in this wise. Alas ! my lord, quod 
 she, why make ye yourself for to be like a fool 1 Forsothe 
 it apperteineth not to a wise man, to maken swiche a soiwe. 
 Youre doughter, with the grace of God, shal warish^ and 
 escape. And al were it so that she right now were dede, 
 ye lie ought not as for hire deth youreself to destroye. 
 Senek saith ; the wise man shal not take to gret discom- 
 fort for the deth of his children, but certes he shulde suf- 
 fren it in patience, as wel as he a,bideth the deth oi his owen 
 propre persone. 
 
 This Melibeus answered anon and said : what man (quod 
 he) shulde of his weping stinte, that hath so gret a cause 
 for to wepe ? Jesu Crist, our Lord, himseli wej)te lor the 
 deth of Lazarus his frend. Prudence answered ; certes 
 wel I wote, attempre^ weiring is nothing defended,^ to him 
 that sorweful is, among folk in sorwe, but it is rather 
 graunted him to wepe. The Apostle Poule unto the Eo- 
 maines writeth ; man shal rejoyce with hem that maken 
 joye, and wepen with swiche folk as wepen. . But though 
 attempre weping be ygranted, outrageous weping certes is 
 defended. Mesure of weping shulde be considered, after 
 the lore that techeth us Senek. Whan that thy frend is 
 dede (quod he) let not thin eyen to moiste ben of teres, ne 
 to muche drie : although the teres comen to thin eyen, let 
 hem not falle. And whan thou hast forgon thy frend, do 
 diligence to get agein anoth er frend : and this is more 
 wisdom than for to wepe for thy frend, which that thou 
 hast lorne, for therin is no bote.^ And therfore if ye 
 governe you by sapience, put away sorwe out of youre 
 herte. Pemembreth you that Jesus Sirak sayth ; a man 
 that is joyous and glad in herte, it him conserveth florish- 
 ing in his age: but sothly a sorweful herte maketli his 
 bones drie. He saith eke thus, that sorwe in herte sleeth 
 ful many a man. Salomon sayth, that right as mouthes^ 
 in the sliepes fleese anoien^ to the clothes, and the smale 
 
 1 Be healed, 2 Moderate. ^ Forbidden. 
 
 ^ Profit. S Moths. ^ Areirjjurious. 
 
 d 
 
THE TALE OF MELIBEUS, 379 
 
 wormes to tlie tree, right so auoieth sorwe to the herte of 
 man. Yi/'herfore ns ought as wel in the deth of oure 
 children, as in the losse of onre goodes tempore], have 
 patience. 
 
 Eeniemhre you upon the patient Job, whan he hadde 
 lost his children and his temporel substaunce, and in his 
 body endured and received ful many a grevous tribulation, 
 yet sayde he thus : Oure Lord hath yeve it to me, oure 
 Lord hath beraft it me ; right as oure Lord hath wold, 
 right so is it don; yblessed be the name of oure Lord. 
 To thise foresaide thinges answered Melibeus unto his 
 wif Prudence : all thy wordes (quod he) ben trewe, and 
 therto profitable, but trewely min herte is troubled with 
 this sorwe so grevously, that I n'ot what to don. Let 
 calle (quod Prudence) thyn trewe frendes alle, and thy 
 linage, which that ben wise, and telleth to hem your cas, 
 and herkeneth what they saye in conseilling, and governe 
 you after hn* sentence. Salomon saith ; werke all thinges 
 by conseil, and thou shalt never repente. 
 
 Than, by conseil of his wif Prudence, this Melibeus let 
 callen a gret congregation of folk, as surgiens, phisiciens, 
 olde folk and yonge, and som of his olde enemies recon- 
 ciled (as by hir semblant) to his love and to his grace : 
 and therwithal ther comen some of his neigheboures, that 
 diden him reverence more for drede than for love, as it 
 happeth oft. Ther comen also ful many subtil flaterers, 
 and wise Advocats lerned in the lawe. 
 
 And whan thise folk togeder assembled weren, this 
 Melibeus in sorweful wise shewed hem his cas, and by the 
 manere of his speche, it semed that in herte he bare a 
 cruel ire, redy to don vengeaunce upon his foos, and 
 sodeinly desired that the werre shulde beginne, but natheles 
 yet axed he his conseil upon this matere. A surgien, by 
 licence and assent of swiche as weren wise, up rose, and 
 unto Melibeus sayde, as ye moun here. 
 
 Sire, (quod he) as to us surgiens apperteineth, that we 
 do to every wight the beste that we can, wher as we ben 
 withholden,^ and to our patient that we do no damage : 
 ' wherfore it happeth many time and ofte, that whan 
 twey men han everich wounded other, o same surgien 
 heleth hem both, wherfore unto our art it is not pertinent 
 to norice werre, ne parties to supports. But certes, as to 
 
 1 Eetaiued. 
 
380 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 the warlsliing^ of youre dougliter, al be it so tliat perilously 
 she be -wounded, we shuln do so ententif besinesse fro day 
 to nigl^jt, that with the grace of God, she shal be hole and 
 sound, as sone as is possible. Almost right in the same 
 wise the phisicieris answer den, save that they said en a 
 fewe wordes more : that right as maladies ben cured by hir 
 contraries, right so shal man warishe werre. His neighe- 
 boures ful of envie, his feined frendes that semed recon- 
 ciled, and his flaterers, maden semblant of weping, and 
 empeired and agregged muchel of this matere, in preysing 
 gretly Melibee of might, of power, of richesse, and of 
 frendes, despising the power of his adversaries : and 
 saiden outrely,^ that he anon shulde wreken him on his 
 foos, and beginnen werre. 
 
 Up rose than an Advocat that was wise, by leve and by 
 conseil of other that were wise, and sayde : Lordinges, the 
 nede for the which we ben assembled in this place, is a ful 
 hevie thing, and an heigh matere, because of the wrong 
 and of the wikkednesse that hath be don, and eke by 
 reson of the grete damages, that in time coming ben pos- 
 sible to fallen for the same cause, and eke by reson of the 
 gret richesse and power of the parties bothe, for the which 
 resons, it were a ful gret -peril to erren in this matere. 
 Wherfore, Melibeus, this is oure sentence ; we conseille 
 you, aboven alle thing, that right anon thou do thy dili- 
 gence in keping of thy propre persone, in swiche a wise 
 that thou ne want non espie ne watche, thy body for to 
 save. And after that, we conseille that in thin hous thou 
 sette suffisant garnison, so that they moun as wel thy 
 body as thy hous defende. But certes for to meeven 
 werre, ne sodenly for to do vengeaunce, we moun not 
 deme in so litel time that it were profitable. Wherfore 
 "we axen leiser and space to have deliberation in this cas 
 to deme f for the comune proverbe saith thus ; He that 
 sone demeth, sone shal repente. And eke men sain, that 
 thilke juge is wise, that sone understondeth a matere, and 
 jugeth by leiser. For al be it so, that al tarying be anoiful, 
 algates it is not to repreve in yeving of jugement, ne in 
 vengeance taking, whan it is suffisant and resonable. And 
 that shewed our Lord Jesu Crist by ensample, for whan 
 that the woman that was taken in advoutrie, was brought 
 in his presence to knowen what shuld be don with hire 
 
 1 Eestoration, cure. 2 Openly. ^ Determine. 
 
THE TALE OP MELIBEUS. 381 
 
 pcrsone, al be it tliat lie wist wel himself wLat that he 
 wolde answere, yet ne wolde he not auswere sodeinly, but 
 he wolde have deliberation, and in the ground he wrote 
 twies ; and by thise causes we axen deliberation: and we 
 shulu than by the grace of God conseiUe the thing that 
 shal be profitable. 
 
 Up sterte than the yonge folk at ones, and the most 
 partie of that compagnie han scorned this olde wise man, 
 and begonnen to make noise and saiden ; Eight so as while 
 that iren is hot men shulde smite, right so men shuln do 
 wreken hir wronges, while that they ben freshe and newe : 
 and with loude voys they criden werre, werre. Up rose tho 
 on of thise olde wise, and with his hand made countenaunce 
 that men shuld holde hem stille, and yeve him audience. 
 Lordinges, (quod he) ther is ful many a man that crietli 
 werre, werre, that wote ful lite! what werre amounteth. 
 Werre at his beginning hath so gret an entring and so 
 large, that every wight may enter whan him liketh, and 
 lightly find werre : but certes what end that shal befalle, 
 it is not light to know. For sothly whan that werre is 
 ones begonne, ther is ful many a child unborne of his 
 moder, that shal sterve^ JO'o.g, by cause of thilke werre, 
 other elles live in sorwe, and dien in wretchednesse : and 
 therfore or that any werre be begonne, men must have 
 gret conseil and gret deliberation. And whan this olde 
 man wende to enibrcen his tale by resons, wel nie alle at 
 ones begonne they to rise, for to broken his tale, and 
 bidden him ful oft his wordes for to abregge. For sothly 
 he that precheth to hem that listen not heren his wordes, 
 his sermon hem anoieth. For Jesus Sirak sayth, that 
 musike in weping is a noious thing. This i>3 to sayn, as 
 muche availleth to speke beforn folk to which his speche 
 anoieth, as to singe beforne him that wepeth. And whan 
 this wise man saw that him wanted audience, al shamefasi 
 lie sette him doun agein. For Salomon saith : ther as ihoii 
 ne mayst have non audience, enforce thee not to speke. 
 I see wel, (quod this wise man) that the comune proverbo 
 is soth, that good conseil wanteth,^ whan it is most nede. 
 
 Yet had this Melibeus in his conseil many folk, thaf, 
 prively in his ere conseilled him certain thing, and con- 
 seilled him the contrary in general audience. Whan 
 Melibeus had herd that the gretest partie of his conseil 
 
 * Die. 2 ig wanting. 
 
382 THE CANTERBUEY TALES. 
 
 were accorded that he shulde make werre, anon he con 
 Bented to hire conseilling, and fully affermed hir sentence. 
 Than dame Prudence, whan that she saw how that hire 
 hosbonde shope him for to awreke him on his foos, and to 
 beginne werre, she in ful humble wise, whan she saw hire 
 time, sayde him these wordes : my lord, (quod she) I you 
 beseche as hertly as I dare and can, ne haste you not to 
 iaste, and for alfe guerdons as yeve^ me audience. For 
 Piers Alphonse^ sayth ; who so that doth to thee outlier 
 good or harme, haste thee not to quite it, for in this Vv-ise 
 thy frend wol abide, and thin enemie shal the lenger live 
 in drede. The proverbe sayth ; he hasteth wel that wisely 
 can abide : and in wikked hast is no profite. 
 
 This Melibee answered unto his Y\^if Prudence : I purpose 
 not (quod he) to werken by thy conseil, for many causes 
 and resons : for certes every wight wold hold me than a 
 fool ; this is to sayn, if I for thy conseilling wolde change 
 thinges, that ben ordeined and affirmed by so many wise 
 men. Secondly, I say, that all women ben wicke, and non 
 good of hem all. For of a thousand men, saith Salomon, 
 I found o good man : but certes of alle women good 
 woman found I never. And also certes, it I governed me 
 by thy conseil, it shulde seme that I had yeve thee over 
 me the maistrie : and God forbede that it so were. For 
 Jesus Sirak sayth, that if the wif have the maistrie, she is 
 contrarious to hire husbond. And Salomon sayth ; never 
 in thy lif to thy wif, ne to thy childe, ne to thy I'rend, ne 
 yeve no power over thy self: for better it were that thy 
 children axe of thee thinges that hem nedeth, than thou 
 see thy self in the handes of thy children. And also if I 
 wol werche by thy conseilling, certes it must be somtime 
 secree, til it were time that it be knowen : and this ne 
 may not be, if I shulde be conseilled by thee. [For it is 
 written; the jangierie of women ne can no thing hide, 
 save that which they wote not. After the philosophre 
 sayth ; in wikked conseil women venquishen men : and for 
 thise resons I ne owe not to be conseilled by thee.] 
 
 Whan dame Prudence, ful debonairly and with gret 
 pacience, had herd all that hire husbonde liked for to say, 
 than axed she of him licence for to speke, and sayde in 
 this wise. My lord, (quod she) as to your first reson, it 
 may lightly ben answerd : for I say that it is no folie to 
 
 1 I. e., do thou give me. 
 2 See a long and learned account of this author in Tyrwliitt's notes. 
 
THE TALE OF MELIBEUS. 383 
 
 eliaimge conseil whan tlie tlimg is cliaunged, or elles wlian 
 the thing semeth otherwise than it semed afore. And 
 moreover I say, though that ye have sworne and behight 
 to performe yoiu- emprise, and nevertheless ye weive^ to 
 performe thilke same emprise by just cause, men shnkl not 
 say therlore ye were a Iyer, ne forsworn: for the book 
 sayth, that the wise man maketh no lesing, whan he turneth 
 his corage for the better. And al be it that your emprise 
 be established and ordeined by gTet multitude of folk, yet 
 thar you not accomplish thilke ordinance but you liketh : 
 for the trouthe of thinges, and the profit, ben rather foun- 
 den in fewe folk that ben wise and ful of reson, than by 
 gret multitude of folk, ther every man cryeth and clatter- 
 eth vvdiat him liketh : sothly swiche multitude is not honest. 
 As to the second reson, wheras ye say, that alle women ben 
 wieke: save your grace, certes ye despise alle w^omen in 
 this wise, and he that all despiseth, as saith the book, 
 all displeseth. And Senek saith, that who so wol have 
 sapience, shal no man dispreise, but he shal gladly teche 
 the science that he can, without presumption or pride : and 
 swiche thinges as he nought can, he shal not ben ashamed 
 to lere hem, and to enquere of lesse folk than himself. And, 
 Su-e, that ther hath ben fal many a good woman, may 
 lightly be preved : ior certes, Sire, our Lord Jesu Crist 
 n'olde never ban descended to be borne oi a woman, if all 
 ■women had be wicked. And after that, for the gret bountee 
 that is in women, our Lord Jesu Crist, whan he wa.s risen 
 from deth to lif, appered rather to a woman than to his 
 Apostles. And though that Salomon sayde, he found 
 never no good woman, it folweth not therfore, that 
 all women be wicked : for though that he ne found no 
 good woman, certes many another man hath founde many 
 a woman ful good and trewe. Or elles peraventure the 
 entent of Salomon was this, that in soveraine bountee he 
 found no w^oman ; this is to say, that ther is no wight that 
 hath soveraine bountee, save God alone, as he himselt 
 recordeth in his Evangelies. For ther is no creature so 
 good, that him ne wanteth somwhat of the perfection of 
 God that is his maker. Youre thridde reson is this ; ye 
 say that if that ye governe you by my conseil, it shulde seme 
 that ye had yeve me the maistrie and the lordship of your 
 person. Sire, save your grace, it is not so ; for if so were 
 that no man shulde be conseilled but only of hem that han 
 
 ; „„ ^ Waive, omit. 
 
384 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 lordsliip and maistrie of his person, men n'olde not he con- 
 seilled so often : for sothly thilke man that asketh conseil 
 of a purpos, yet hath he free chois whether he wol werke 
 after that conseil or non. And as to your fourth reson, 
 ther as ye sain that the jangierie of v/omen can hide thinges 
 that they wot not; as who so sayth, that a woman cannot 
 hide that she wote ; Sire, thise wordes ben understonde of 
 women that ben jangleresses and wicked; of which women 
 men sain that three thinges driven a man out of his hous, 
 that is to say, smoke, dropping of raine, and wicked wives. 
 And of swiche women Salomon sayth, That a man were 
 better dwell in desert, than with a woman that is riotous. 
 And, sire, by your leve, that am not I ; for ye have ful. 
 often assaied my gret silence and my gret patience, and eke 
 how wel that I can hide and hele thinges, that men oughten 
 secretly to hiden. And sothly as to your fifthe reson, 
 wheras ye say, that in wicked conseil women venquishen 
 men ; God wote that thilke reson stant here in no 
 stede: for understondeth now, ye axen conseil for to do 
 wickednesse ; and if ye wol werken wickednesse, and your 
 wif restraineth thilke wicked purpos, and overcometh you 
 by reson and by good conseil, certes your wif ought rather 
 to be preised than to be blamed. Thus shulde ye under- 
 stonde the philosophre that sayth. In wicked conseil women 
 venquishen hir husbondes. And ther as ye blamen all 
 women and hir resons, I shal shewe you by many ensam- 
 ples, that many women have ben ful good, and yet 
 ben, and hir conseil holesome and profitable. Eke so.m 
 men han sayd, that the conseil of women is either to dere, 
 or elles to litel of pris. But al be it so that ful many a 
 woman be bad, and hire conseil vile and nought worth, yet j 
 han men founden ful many a good woman, and discrete j 
 and wise in conseilling. Lo, Jacob, thurgh the good conseil j 
 of his mother Rebecke, wan the benison of his father, and 
 the lordship over all his brethren. Judith, by hire good 
 conseil, delivered the citee of Bethulie, in which she dwelt, 
 out of the honde of Holofern, that had it beseged, and wolde 
 it al destroye. Abigail delivered Nabal hire housbond fro 
 David the king, that wolde han slain him, and appesedtho 
 ire of the king by hire wit, and by hire good conseilling. 
 Hester by hire conseil enhaunced gretly the peple of 
 God, in the regne of Assuerus the king. And the same ^ 
 bountee in good "conseilling of many a good woman I 
 moun men rede and tell. And further more, whan that | 
 
THE TALE OP MELIBEUS. 385 
 
 oure Lord had created Adam oure forme father, he sayd 
 in this wise ; it is not good to be a man allone : make 
 we to him an helpe semblable to himself. Here moun 
 ye see that if women weren not good, and hir conseil 
 good and profitable, oure Lord God of heven wolde neither 
 ban wrought hem, ne called hem helpe of man, but rather 
 confusion of man. And ther sayd a clerk ones in two vers; 
 what is better than gold 1 Jaspre. What is better than 
 jaspre 1 Wisdom. And what is better than wisdom ? 
 Woman. And what is better than a good woman ? Nothing. 
 And, Sire, by many other resons moun ye seen, that many 
 women ben good, and hir conseil good and profitable. And 
 therfore. Sire, if ye wol troste to my conseil, I shal restore 
 you your doughter hole and sound: and I wol don to you 
 so muche, that ye shuln have honour in this cas. 
 
 Whan Melibee had herd the wordes of his wif Prudence, 
 he sayd thus : I se wel that the word of Salomon is soth ; 
 for he saith, that wordes, that ben spoken discretly by or- 
 dinaunce, ben honiecombes, for they yeven swetenesse to 
 the soule, and holsomnesse to the body. And, wif, because 
 of thy swete wordes, and eke for I have preved and assaied 
 thy grete sapience and thy grete trouthe, I wol governe me 
 by thy conseil in alle thing. 
 
 Now, Sire, (quod dame Prudence) and sein that ye vouch- 
 safe to be governed by my conseil, I wol enforme you how 
 that ye shuln governe yourself, in chesing of youre conseil- 
 lours. Ye shuln first in alle your werkes mekely besechen 
 to the heigh God, that he wol be your conseiilour : and 
 shapeth you to swiche entente that he yeve you conseil and 
 comforte, as taught Tobie his sone ; at alle times thou 
 shalt blesse God, and preie him to dresse thy wayes ; and 
 loke that alle thy conseils ben in him for evermore. Seint 
 James eke sayth ; if any of you have nede of sapience, axe 
 it of God. And afterwarde, than shullen ye take conseil 
 in yourself, and examine wel your owen thoughtes, of SAviche 
 thinges as you thinketh that ben best for your profit. And 
 than shuln ye drive fro your herte three thinges that ben 
 contrarious to good conseil ; that is to sayn, ire^ coveitise, 
 and hastinesse. 
 
 'First, he that axeth conseil of himself, certes he must be 
 withouten ire, for many causes. The first is this : he that 
 hath gret ire and wrath in himself^ he weneth alway that 
 he may do thing that he may not do. And secondly, he 
 that is irons and wroth, he may not wel deme : and he that 
 
386 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 may not wel deme, may not wel conseille. The thridcle h 
 this ; he that is irons and wroth, as sayth Senek, ne may 
 not speke but blameful thinges, and with his vicious wordes 
 he stirreth other folk to anger and to ire. And eke, Sire, 
 ye must drive coveitise out of your lierte. For the Apostle 
 sayth, that coveitise is the rote of alle harmes. And 
 trosteth wel, that a coveitous man ne can not deme ne 
 tliinke, but only to fulfiUe the ende of his coveitise ; and 
 certes that ne may never ben accomplised ; for ever the 
 more haboundance that he hath of richesse, the more he 
 desireth. And, Sire, ye must also drive out of youre herte 
 hastinesse : for certes ye ne moun not deme for the beste a 
 soden thought that falleth in youre herte, but ye must 
 aviso you on it ful ofte : for as ye have herde herebeforn, 
 the commune proverbe is this ; he that sone demeth, sone 
 repenteth. 
 
 Sire, ye ne be not alway in like disposition, for certes 
 som thing that somtime semeth to you that it is good 
 for to do, another time it semeth to you the contrarie. 
 
 And whan ye han taken conseil in yourself, and han 
 denied by good deliberation swiche thing as you semeth 
 beste, than rede I you that ye kepe it secree. Bewreye not 
 your conseil to no persone, but if so be that ye wenen 
 sikerly, that thurgh youre bewreying youre condition shal 
 ben to you more profitable. For Jesus Sirak saith : neither 
 to thy foo ne to thy frend discover not thy secree, ne thy 
 folic : for they woln yeve you audience and loking, and 
 supportation in youre presence, and scorne jou in youre 
 absence. Another clerk sayth, that scarsly shalt thou 
 finden any persone that may kepe thy conseil secrely. The 
 book sayth ; while that thou kepest thy conseil in thin 
 herte, thou kepest it in thy prison : and whan thou be- 
 wreyest thy conseil to any wight, he holdeth thee in his 
 snare. And therfore you is better to hide your conseil in 
 your herte, than to preye him to whom ye han bewreyed 
 youre conseil, that he v/ol kepe it close and stille. For 
 Seneca sayth : if so be that thou ne mayst not thin owen 
 conseil hide, how darest thou preyen any other wight thy 
 conseil secrely to kepe 1 but natheles, if thou wene sikerly^ 
 that thy bewrejdng of thy conseil to a persone wol make 
 thy condition to stonden in the better plight, than shalt 
 thou telle him thy conseil in this wise. First, thou shalt 
 
 I Truly. 
 
THE TALE OF MELIBEUS. S87 
 
 make no semblant whether thee were lever pees or werre, 
 or this or that ; ne she we him not thy will ne thin 
 entente : for troste wel that communly these conseillours 
 ben flaterers, namely the conseillours ol grete lordes, for 
 they enforcen hem alway rather to speken plesant wordes 
 enclining to the lordes lust, than wordes that ben trewe or 
 j)rofitable : and therfore men sayn, that the riche man hath 
 selde good conseil, but if he have it of himself. And after 
 that thou shalt consider thy frendes and thin enemies. 
 And as touching thy frendes, thou shalt consider which of 
 hem ben most feithful and most wise, and eldest and most 
 approved in conseilling: and of hem shalt thou axe thy 
 conseil, as the cas requireth. 
 
 I say, that first ye shuln clepe to youre conseil youre 
 frendes that ben trewe. For Salomon saith : that right as 
 the herte of a man deliteth in savour that is swote, right 
 so the conseil of trewe frendes yeveth swetenesse to the 
 soule. He sayth also, ther may nothing be likened to the 
 trewe frend : for certes gold ne silver ben not so muche 
 worth as the good will of a trewe frend. And eke he sayth, 
 that a trewG frend is a strong defence ; who so that it 
 lindeth, certes he findeth a gret tresor. Than shuln ye eke 
 consider if that your trewe frendes ben discrete and wise : 
 for the book saith, axe alway thy conseil of hem that ben 
 wise. And by this same reson shuln ye clepen to youre 
 conseil youre frendes that ben of age, swiche as han seyn 
 and ben expert in many thinges, and ben appreved in con- 
 seillinges. For the book sayth, in olde men is al the 
 sapience, and in longe time the prudence. And TuUius 
 sayth, that grete thinges ne ben not ay accomplised by 
 strengthe, ne by delivernesse^ of body, but by good conseil, 
 by auctoritee of j)er3ones, and by science : the which three 
 thinges ne ben not feble by age, but certes they enforcen 
 and encresen day by day. And than shuln ye kepe this 
 for a general reule. First ye shuln clepe to youre conseil a 
 fewe of youre frendes that ben especial. For Salomon 
 saith ; many frendes have thou, but among a thousand 
 chese thee on to be thy conseillour. For al be it so, that 
 thou first ne telle thy conseil but to a fev/e, thou mayest 
 afterwarde tell it to mo folk, if it be nede. But loke alway 
 that thy conseillours have thilke three conditions that I 
 have,sayd before j that is to say, that they be trewe wise, 
 
 * Agility. 
 
388 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 and of olde experience. And werer not alway in every 
 nede by on conseillour allone : for somtime belioveth it to 
 be conseilled by many. For Salomon saytli ; salvation of 
 thinges is wlier as ther ben many conseillours. 
 
 Now sitli that I liave told you of which folk ye shnlde be 
 conseilled : now wol I teche you which conseil ye ought to 
 eschue. First ye shuln eschue the conseilling of fooles ; 
 for Salomon sayth, Take no conseil of a fool : for he ne can 
 not conseille but after his owen lust and his affection. The 
 book sayth, the propretee of a fool is this : He troweth 
 lightly harme of every man, and lightly troweth all bountee 
 in himself. Thou shalt eke eschue the conseilling of all 
 flaterers, swiche as enforcen hem rather to preisen youre 
 persone by flaterie, than for to tell you the sothfastnesse of 
 thinges, 
 
 Wherfore TuUius sayth, Among alle the pestilences that 
 ben in frendship, the gretest is flaterie. And therfore it is 
 more nede that thou eschue and drede flaterers, than any 
 other peple. The book saith, Thou shalt rather drede and 
 flee fro the swete wordes of flatering preisers, than fro the 
 egre wordes of thy frend that saith thee sothes. Salomon 
 saith, that the wordes of a flaterer is a snare to cacchen 
 innocentes. He sayth also, He that speketh to his frend 
 v/ordes of swetenesse and of plesaunce, he setteth a net 
 beforne his feet to cacchen him. And therfore sayth 
 TuUius, Encline not thin eres to flaterers, ne take no con- 
 seil of wordes of flaterie. And Caton sayth, Avise thee 
 wel, and eschue wordes of swetenesse and of plesaunce. 
 And eke thou shalt eschue the conseilling of thin olde 
 .enemies that ben reconciled. The book sayth, that no 
 wight retourneth safely into the grace of his olde enemie. 
 And Ysope sayth; Ne trost not to hem, to which thou hast 
 somtime had v/erre or enmitee, ne telle hem not thy conseil. 
 And Senek telleth the cause why. It may not be, sayth 
 he, ther as gret fire hath long time endured, that ther ne 
 dwelleth som vapour of warmnesse. And therfore saith 
 Salomon, In thin olde foo trost thou never. For sikerly, 
 though thin enemie be reconciled, and maketh thee chere 
 of humilitee, and louteth^ to thee with his hed, ne trost 
 him never : for certes he maketh thilke feined humilitee 
 more for his profite, than for any love of thy persone ; 
 because that he demeth to have victorie over thy jjersone 
 
 J Bowetli. 
 
THE TALE OF MELIBEUS. 380 
 
 by swiche feined contenauce, tlie which victorie he might 
 not have by strif of \rerre. And Peter Alphonse sayth ; 
 Make no fekxwsliipwith thin olde enemies, for if thou do hem. 
 bountee, they wollen perverten it to wiclvednesse. And eke 
 thou must escliue tlie conseilling oz hem that ben thy ser- 
 vaunts, and beren thee gret reverence : for paraventure they 
 fein it more for drede than for love. And therfore saith a 
 philosoj^hre in this wise • Ther is no wight parfltly trewe 
 to him that he to sore dredeth. And Tullius sayth, Ther 
 a'is no might so gret of any emperour that longe may 
 endure, but if he have more love of the peple than drede. 
 Thou shalt also eschue the conseilling of folk that ben 
 clronkelewe, for they ne can no conseil hide. For Salomon 
 sayth, Ther n'is no privetee ther as regneth dronkennesse. 
 Ye shuln also have in suspect the conseilling of swiche folk 
 as conseille you o thing prively, and conseille you the con- 
 trarie openly. For Cassiodore sayth, That it is a manere 
 sleighte to hinder his enemy'whan he sheweth to don a 
 thing openly, and werketh prively the contrary. Thou 
 shalt also have in suspect the conseilling of wicked folk, 
 for hir conseil is alway ful of fraude. And David sayth ; 
 Blisful is that man that hath not folwed the conseilling 
 of shrewes. Thou shalt also eschue the conseilling of 
 yonge folk, for hh- conseilling is not ripe, as Salomon saith. 
 Now, Sire, sith I have shewed you of which folk ye 
 shuUen take youre conseil, and of which folk ye shuUen 
 eschue tbe conseil, now wol I teche you how ye shuln ex- 
 amine your conseil after the doctrine of Tullius. In ex- 
 amining than of your conseillours, ye shuln considre many 
 thinges. Alderfirnt thou shalt considre that in thilke thing 
 that thou purposest, and upon what thing that thou wolt 
 have conseil, that veray trouthe be said and conserved ; 
 this is to say, telle trewely thy tale : for he that sayth false, 
 may not wel be conseiiled in that cas, of which he lieth. 
 And after this, thou shalt considre the thinges that aecorden 
 to that thou purposest for to do by thy conseillours, if 
 reson accord therto, and eke if thy might may atteine 
 therto, and if the more part and the better part of thin 
 conseillours aecorden therto or no. Than shalt thou con- 
 sidre what thing shal folwe of that conseilling; as hate, 
 pee;3, werre, grace, profite, or domage, and many other 
 thinges: and in alle thinges thou shalt chese the beste,and 
 weive alle other thinges. Than shalt thou considre of 
 what roote is engendred the matere of thy conseil, and 
 
390 THE CANTERBURY TALES 
 
 what fruit it may conceive and engendre. Thou shalt ete 
 considre alle the causes, from whennes they ben sprongen. 
 And whan thou hast examined thy conseil, as I have said^ 
 and which partie is the better and more profitable, and 
 hast appreved it by many wise folk and olde, than shalt 
 thou considre, if thou mayst performe it and maken of it a 
 good ende. For certes reson wol not that any man shulde 
 beginne a thing, but if he mighte performe it as him 
 oughte: ne no wight shulde take upon him so hevy a 
 charge, that he might not beren it. For the proverbe 
 sayth; he that to muche embraceth distreineth litel. And 
 Caton sayth; assay to do swiche thinges as thou hast 
 power to don, lest the charge oppresse thee so sore, that 
 thee behoveth to weive thing that thou hast begonne. 
 And if so be that thou be in doute, whether thou mayst 
 performe a thing or non, chese rather to suffre than ta 
 beginne. And Peter Alphonse sayth ; If thou hast might 
 to don a thing, of which thou must repente, it is better 
 nay than ya : this is to sayn, that thee is better to holde 
 thy tonge stille than for to speke. Than mayst thou un- 
 derstonde by stronger resons, that if thou hast power to 
 performe a werk, of which thou shalt rej)ente, than is thee 
 better that thou suffre than beginne. Wei sain they that 
 defenden every wight to assaye a thing of which he is in 
 doute, whether he may performe it or non. And after 
 whan ye han examined youre conseil, as I have said beforne, 
 and knowen wel that ye moun performe youre emprise, 
 conferme it than sadly ^ til it be at an ende. 
 
 Now is it reson and time that I shewe you whan, and 
 wherforC; that ye moun chaunge your conseil, withouten 
 repreve. Sothly, a man may change his purpos and his 
 conseil, if the cause ceseth, or whan a newe cas betideth. 
 For the lawe saith, that upon thinges that newly botiden, 
 behoveth newe conseil. And Seneca sayth ; if thy conseil 
 is comen to the eres of thin enemies^ chaunge tlrf conseil. 
 Thou mayst also chaunge thy conseil^ if so be that thou 
 find that by errour, or by other cause, harme or damage 
 may betide. Also if thy conseil be dishoneste, other elles- 
 come of dishoneste cause, chaunge thy conseil: for the 
 lawes sain, that all behestes that ben dishoneste ben of no 
 value : and eke, if so be that it be impossible, or may not 
 goodly be performed or kept^ 
 
 1 Seriously. 2 Qr else* 
 
THE TALE OP MELIBEUS. 391 
 
 And take this for a general reiile, that every conseil 
 that is affermed so strongly, that it may not be chaunged 
 for no condition that may betide, I say that thilke conseil 
 is wicked. 
 
 This Melibens, whan he had herd the doctrine of his wif 
 dame Prudence, answered in this wise. Dame, quod he, as 
 yet unto this time ye han v/el and covenably taught me, as 
 in general, how I shal governe me in the chesing and in 
 the withholding of my conseillours : but now wold I fain 
 that ye wold condescend in especial, and telle me how 
 liketh you, or what semeth you by oure conseillours that 
 we han chosen in oure present nede. 
 
 My lord, quod she, I beseche you in alle humblesse, that 
 ye wol not wilfully replie ageiu my resons, ne distempre 
 your herte, though I speke thing that you displese ; for God 
 wote that, as in min entente, I speke it for your beste, for 
 youre honour and for youre profite eke, and sothly I hope 
 that youre benignitee wol taken it in patience. And trosteth 
 me wel, quod she, that youre conseil as in this cas ne 
 shulde not (as to speke j)roprely) be called a conseilling, 
 but a motion or a meving of folie, in which conseil ye han 
 erred in many a sondry wise. 
 
 Fu'st and forward, ye han erred in the assembling of 
 youre conseillours ; for ye sholde first han cleped a fewe 
 folk to youre conseil, and after ye mighte han shewed it 
 to mo folk, if it hadde be nede. But certes ye han so- 
 deinly cleped to your conseil a gret multitude of peple, ful ^ 
 ehargeant and ful anoyous for to here. Also ye han erred, 
 for ther as ye shulde han only cleped to youre conseile youre 
 trewe frendes, olde and wise, ye han cleped straunge folk, 
 yonge folk, false flaterers, and enemies reconciled, and folk 
 that don you reverence withouten love. And eke ye han 
 erred, for ye han brought with you to youre conseil ire, 
 coveitise, and hastifnesse, the which three thinges ben con- 
 trary to every conseil honest and profitable : the which 
 three thinges ye ne han not anientissed^ or destroyed, 
 neither in youreself ne in youre conseillours, as you ought. 
 Ye han erred also, for ye han shewed to youre conseillours 
 youre talent and youre affections to make werre anon, and 
 for to do vengeaunce, and they han espied by youre wordes 
 to what thing ye ben enclined : and therfore han they con- 
 eeilledyou rather to youre talent, than to youre profite. Ye 
 
 i Eeduced to notliing. 
 
392 THE CANTERBURY TALES, 
 
 ban erred also, for it semeth that you sufficeth to Iian ben 
 conseilled by thise conseillours only, and with litel avisj. 
 wheras in so high and so gret a nede, it had ben necessarie 
 mo conseillours, and more deliberation to pertbrme your 
 emprise. Ye han erred also, for ye han not examined your 
 conseil in the foresaid manere, ne in due manere, as the 
 cas requireth. Ye han erred also, for ye han maked no 
 division betwix youre conseillours ; this is to sayn, betwix: 
 your trewe frencles and your feined conseillours : ne ye han 
 not knowe the \Yille of your trewe trendes, olde and wise, 
 but ye han cast alle hir wordes in an hochepot,^ and en- 
 clined your herte to the more part and to the greter nom- 
 bre, and ther be ye condescended ; and sith ye wot wel 
 that men shuln alway finde a greter nombre of fooles than 
 of wise men, and therfore the conseillings that ben at con- 
 gregations and multitudes of folk, ther as men take more 
 regard to the nombre, than to the sapience of persones, ye 
 seen wel, that in swiche conseillings fooles han the maistrie. 
 Melibeus answered and said agein : I graunte wel that I 
 have erred ; but ther as thou hast told me herebeforne^ 
 that he n'is not to blame that chaungeth his conseil in 
 certain cas, and for certain and just causes, I am ai redy 
 to chaunge my conseil right as thou wolt devise. The 
 proverbe saytli ; for to don sinne is mannish,^ but certea 
 for to persevere long in sinne is werke of the Divel. 
 
 To this sentence answered anon dame Prudence, and 
 saide ; examineth (quod she) wel your conseil, and let us see 
 the which of hem han spoken most resonably, and taught 
 you best conseil. And for as muche as the examination is 
 necessarie, let us beginne at the Surgiens and at the Phy- 
 siciens, that first spaken in this mater. I say tb at Physiciens 
 and Surgiens han sayde you i:. youre conseil discretly, as: 
 hem oughte : and in hir speche saiden ful wisely, that to 
 the office of hem apperteineth to don to every wight honour 
 and profite, and no wight to anoye, and after hir craft to. 
 don gret diligence unto the cure of hem which that they 
 han in hir governaunce. And, Sire, right as they han an- 
 swered wisely and discretly, right so rede I that they be 
 highly and soverainly guerdoned^ for hir noble speche, and 
 eke for they shulden do the more ententif besinesse in the 
 curation of thy dere doughter. For al be it so that they 
 ben youre frendes, therfore shuUen ye not sufFren, that they 
 
 I Like our " hodge podge," a mixture of all sorts of tilings tlirovva 
 togctlicr. 2 Human. 2 Rewarded. 
 
 ( 
 
THE TALE OF MELIBEU3. 393 
 
 serve yon for nought, but je oughte the rather guerdone 
 hem, and shewe hem youre largesse. And as touching the 
 proposition, which the Physiciens entreteden in this cas, 
 this is to sain, that in mahidies, that a contrarie is warished 
 by another contrarie ; I wold fain knowe how ye under- 
 stonde thilke text, and what is youre sentence. Certes, 
 quod Melibeus, I understond it in this wise ; that right a3 
 they han don me a contrarie, right so shulde I don hem 
 another ; for right as they han venged hem upon me and 
 don me wrong, right so shal I venge me upon hem, and don 
 hem wrong, and than hav« I cured a contrarie by another. 
 Lo, lo, quod dame Prudence, how lightly is every man 
 enclined to his owen desire and his owen plesaunce ! certes 
 (quod she) th« wordes of the Physiciens ne shulden not han 
 ben understonden in that wise ; for certes wickednesse is 
 not contrarie to wickednesse, ne vengeaunce to vengeaunce, 
 ne wrong to wrong, but they ben semblable : and therfore 
 a vengeaunce is not warished by another vengeaunce, ne a 
 wrong by another wrong, but everich of hem encreseth 
 and aggreggeth other. But certes the wordes of the 
 Physiciens shulden ben understonde in this wise ; for good 
 and wickednesse ben two contraries, and ptees and werre, 
 vengeaunce and suffraunce^ discord and accord, and many 
 other thinges: but certes, wickednesse shal be warished 
 by goodnesse, discord by accord, werre by pees, and so 
 forth of other thinges. And hereto accordeth Seint Poule 
 the Apostle in many places : he sayth, ne yelde not harme 
 for hacme, ne wicked speche for wicked speche,but do wel 
 to him that doth to thee harme, and blesse him tha,t saith 
 to thee harme. And in many other places he amonestetli 
 pees and accord. But now wol T speke to you of the 
 conseil, which that was yeven to you by the men of lawe, 
 and the wise folk, and old folke, that sayden alle by on 
 accord as ye han herd beforne, that over alle thinges yo 
 shuln do youre diligence to kepe youre persone, and to 
 warnestore^ your house : and saiden also, that in this cas 
 you oughte for to werchen ful avisely and with gret deli- 
 beration. And, sire, as to the first point, that toucheth 
 the keping of youre persone, ye shuln undeistond, that he 
 that hath werre, shal ever more devoutly and mekely 
 preien beforne alle thinges, that Jesu Crist of his mercie 
 wol han him in his protection, and ben his soveraine 
 
394 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 helping at his nede: for certes in this world ther is no 
 wight that may be conseilled lie kept suffisantly, withoiiti 
 the keping of cure lord Jesu Crist. To this sentence ac- 
 cordeth the Prophete David that sayth : if God ne kepe 
 the citee, in idel waketh he that kepeth it. Now, sire, 
 than shuln ye committe the keping of yonre persone to 
 youre trewe frendes, that ben approved and yknowe, and 
 of hem shnln ye axen helpe, youre persone for to kepe. 
 For Caton saith: if thoii have nede of heljDe, axe it of thy 
 trendes, for ther n'is non so good a physicien as thy trev/e 
 frend. And after this than shnln ye kepe you fro alle 
 straunge folk, and fro lieres, and have alway in suspect hir 
 compaignie. For Piers Alphonse sayth : ne take no cora- 
 paignie by the way of a straunge man, but if so be that 
 thou have knowen him of lenger time : and if so be that 
 he falle into thy comj)aignie paraventure withouten thin 
 assent, enquere than, as subtilly as thou maist, of his con- 
 versation, and of his lif beforne, and feine thy way, saying 
 thou wolt go thider as thou wolt not go : and if he bere a 
 spere, hold thee on the right side, and if he bere a swerd, 
 hold thee on his left side. And after this than shuln ye 
 kej)e you wisely from all swiche manere peple as I have 
 sayed before, and hem and hir conseil eschue. And after 
 this than shuln ye kepe you in swiche manere, that for 
 any presumption of youre strengthe, that ye ne despise not, 
 ne account not the might of your adversary so lite, that 
 ye let^ the keping of your persone for your presumption ; 
 for every wise man dredeth his enemie. And Salomon 
 sayth ; welfuP is he that of alle hath drede ; for certes, 
 he that thurgh the hardinesse of his herte, and thurgh the ' 
 hardinesse of himself, hath to gret ]Dresumption, him shal ' 
 evil betide. Than shuln ye evermo countrewaite em- 
 boyssements, and alle espiaile. For Senek sayth, that the 
 wise man that dredeth harmes, eschueth harmes ; ne he 
 ne falleth into perils, that perils eschueth. And al be it 
 so, that it seme that thou art in siker place, yet shalt thou 
 alway do thy diligence in keping of thy persone ; this is to 
 sayn, ne be not negligent to kepe thin persone, not only 
 fro thy gretest enemy, but also fro thy leste enemy. 
 Senek sayth ; a man that is wel avised, he dredeth his 
 leste enemie. Ovide sayth, that the litel wesel wol slee 
 the gret boll and the wilde hart. And the book^ sayth ; a 
 
 1 Let go of. 2 Prosperous, happy. ^ j. g,^ the Bible. 
 
THE TALE OF SIELIBEUS. 395 
 
 litel tliorne may prikke a king ful sore, and a litel hound 
 wol hold the wilde bore. But natheles, I say not thou 
 shalt be so coward, that thou doute wher as is no drede. 
 The book saith, that som men [han taught hir deceivour, 
 for they han to muche dreded] to be deceived. Yet shalt 
 thou drede to be empoysoned ; and [therfore shalt thou] 
 kepe thee fro the compagnie of scorners: for the book 
 sayth, with scorners ne make no compagnie, but flee hir 
 wordes as venime. 
 
 Now as to the second point, wheras youre wise conseil- 
 lours conseilled you to warnestore your hous with gret 
 diligence, I wolde fain knoAve how that ye imderstode 
 thilke wordes, and what is youre sentence. 
 
 Melibeus answered and saide; Certes I understond it 
 in this wise, that I shal warnestore^ min hous with toures, 
 swiche as han castelles and other manere edifices, and 
 armure, and artelries, by which thinges I may my persone 
 and myn hous so kepen and defenden, that min enemies 
 slmln ben in drede min hous for to approche. 
 
 To this sentence answered anon Prudence. Warne- 
 Btoring (quod she) of heighe toures and of grete edifices, 
 is with grete costages and with grete travaille ; and whan 
 that they ben accompliced, yet ben they not worth a stre, 
 but if they ben defended by trewe frendes, that ben olde 
 and wise. And understonde wel, that the greteste and 
 Btrongeste garneson that a riche man may have, as wel to 
 kepen his persone as his goodes, is, that he be beloved 
 with his subgets, and with his neigheboures. For thus 
 Bayth TuUius, that ther is a maner garneson, that no man 
 may venquish ne discomfite, and that is a lord to be 
 beloved of his citizeins, and of his peple. 
 
 Now, sire, as to the thridde point, wheras youre olde and 
 wise conseillours sayden, that you ne ought'e not sodeinly 
 ne hastily proceden in this nede, but that you oughte 
 purveyen- and appareilen you in this cas, with gret dili- 
 gence and gret deliberation ; trewely, I trowe, that they 
 sayden right wisely and right soth. For TuUius sayth : 
 in every nede er thou beginne it, appareile thee with gret 
 dihgence. Than say I, that in vengeaunce taking, in werre, 
 in bataille, and in warnestoring,^ er thou beginne, I 
 rede that thou appareile thee therto, and do it with gret 
 deliberation. For TuUius sayth, that longe apparelling 
 
 ' Provide, furnish, 2 rrovide. 3 Furnishing. 
 
 34 
 
396 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 tofore the bataille, maketh short victorie. And Cassio* 
 dorus sayth : the garneson is stronger, whan it is longe 
 time avised. i 
 
 But now let ns speken of the conseil that was accorded 
 by yonre neigheboures, swiche as don you reverence 
 withouten love ; youre olde enemies reconciled ; your 
 flatereres, that conseilled you certain thinges prively, and 
 openly conseilled you the contrarie ; the yonge folk also, 
 that conseilled you to venge you, and to make werre anon. 
 Certes, sire, as I have sayde beforne, ye han gretly erred 
 to han cleped swiche maner folk to youre conseil, which 
 conseillours ben ynough reproved by the resons aforesaid. 
 But natheles, let us now descende to the special. Ye shul 
 first proceden after the doctrine of TuUius. Certes the 
 trouthe of this matere or of this conseil nedeth not dili- 
 gently to enquere, for it is wel wist, which they ben that 
 han don to you this trespas and vilaniS; and how many 
 trespasours, and in what manere they han don to you all 
 this wrong, and all this vilanie. And after this, than 
 shuln ye examine the second condition, which that the 
 same Tullius addeth in this matere. For TuUius i)utteth 
 a thing, which that he clepeth consenting : this is to sayn, 
 who ben they, and which ben they, and how many, that 
 consenten to thy conseil in thy wilfulnesse, to don hastif 
 vengeaunce. And let us considre also who ben they, and 
 how many ben they, and which ben they, that consenteden 
 to youre adversaries. As to the first point, it is wel knowen 
 which folk they be that consenteden to youre wilfulnesse. 
 For trewely, all tho that conseileden you to maken sodein 
 werre, ne ben not youre frendes. Let us now considre 
 which ben they that ye holden so gretly youre frendes, as 
 to youre persone : for al be it so that ye be mighty and 
 riche, certes ye ne ben but allone : for certes ye ne han no 
 child but a doughter, ne ye ne han no brethren, ne cosins 
 germains, ne non other nigh kinrede, wherfore that youre 
 enemies for drede shulde stinte to plede with you, or to 
 destroye youre persone. Ye knowen also, that your 
 richesses moten ben dispended in diverse parties ; and 
 whan that every wight hath his part, they ne wo lien taken 
 but litel regard to venge youre deth. But thin enemies 
 ben three, and they han many brethren, children, cosins, 
 and other nigh kinrede : and though so were, that thou 
 haddest slain of hem two or three, yet dwellen there ynow 
 to wreken hir deth and to slee thy persone. And though 
 
THE TALE OF MELIBEUS. 397 
 
 SO be t!iat yoiire kinrecle be more stedefast and siker than 
 the kin of your adversaries, yet natkeles youre kinrede is 
 but a fer kinrede ; they ben but litel sibbe^ to you, and the 
 kin of youre enemies ben nigh sibbe to hem. And certes 
 as in that, hir condition is better than youres. Than let 
 us considre also of the conseilling of hem that conseilled 
 you to take sodein vengeance, whether it accorde to reson : 
 and certes, ye knowe wel, nay ; for as by right and reson, 
 ther may no man taken vengeaunce on no wight, but the 
 juge that hath the jurisdiction of it, whan it is ygraunted 
 him to take tliilke vengeaunce hastily, or attemprely, as 
 the lawe requireth, And yet moreover of thilke word 
 that Tullius clepeth consenting, thou shalt considre, if thy 
 might and thy power may consente and suffice to thy 
 wilfulnesse, and to thy conseillours : and certes, thou mayest 
 wel say, that nay ; for sikerly, as for to speke proprely, we 
 moun do nothing but only swiche thing as we moun don 
 rightfully: and certes rightfully ye ne mo we take no ven- 
 geance, as of your proper auctoritee. Than mowe ye sen 
 that your power ne consenteth not, ne accordeth not to 
 youre wilfalnesse. Now let us examine the thridde point, 
 that Tullius clepeth consequent. Thou shalt understonde, 
 that the vengeaunce that thou purposest for to take, is the 
 consequent, and therof folweth another vengeance, peril, 
 and werre, and other damages withouten nombre, of which 
 we ben not ware, as at this time. And as touching the 
 fourthe jDoint, that Tullius clepeth engendring, thou shalt 
 consider, that this wrong which that is don to thee, is 
 eugendred of the hate of thin enemies, and of the ven- 
 geaunce taking upon that wold engender another ven- 
 geaunce, and muchel sorwe and wasting of richesses, as I 
 sayde ere. 
 
 Now, sire, as to the point, that Tullius clepeth causes, 
 which- that is the last point, thou shalt understonde, that 
 the wrong that thou hast received, hath certaine causes, 
 which that clerkes clepen oriens, and effi^ciens, and causa 
 longmqica,B.Tid causa proijinqua, this is to sayn,the fer cause, 
 and the nigh cause. The fer cause is almighty God, that 
 i J cause of alle thinges : the ner cause, is thin three ene- 
 mies ; the cause accidental was hate ; the cause material, 
 ben the five woundes of thy doughter ; the cause formal, 
 is the maner of hir werking, that broughten ladders^ and 
 
 » Eelated, allied. 
 
398 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 clomben in at thy windowes ; the cause final was for to 
 slee thy donghter ; it letted not in as mnche as in hem was. 
 But for to speke of the fer cause, as to what ende they 
 shuln come, or what shal finally betide of hem in this 
 cas, ne can I not dome, but by conjecting and supposing : 
 for we shuln suppose, that they shuln come to a wicked 
 ende, because that the book of Decrees sayth : Seiden or 
 with gret peine ben causes ybrought to a good ende, whan 
 they ben badly begonne. 
 
 Now, sire, if men wold axon me, why that Godsuffred men 
 to do you this vilanie, certes I can not wel answer, as for 
 no sothfastnesse. For the Apostle sayth, that tihe sciences, 
 and the jugements of oure Lord God Almighty ben ful 
 depe ; ther may no man comprehend ne serche hem suf- 
 fisantly. Natheles, by certain presumptions and conject- 
 ings, I hold and beleve, that God, which that is ful of 
 justice and of rightwisenesse, hath sufi'ered this betide, by 
 just cause resonable. 
 
 Thy name is Melibee, this is to sayn, a man that 
 drinketh hony. Thou hast dronke so muche hony of 
 s^vete temporel richesses, and delices, and honours of this 
 world, that thou art dronken, and hast forgotten Jesu 
 Crist thy creatour : thou ne hast not don to him swiche 
 honour and reverence as thee ought, ne thou ne hast wel 
 ytaken kepe to the wordes of Ovide, that sayth : Under 
 the honey of the goodes of thy body is hid the venime 
 that sleth the soule. And Salomon sayth : If thou hast 
 founden hony, ete of it that sufficeth ; for if thou ete of it 
 out of mesure, thou shalt spewe, and be nedy and jDoure. 
 And peraventure Crist hath thee in despit, and hath 
 tourned away fro thee his face, and his eres of miseri- 
 corde ; and also ke hath sufired, that thou hast ben 
 punished in the manere that thou hast ytrespased. Thou 
 hast don sinne again oure Lord Crist, for certes the three 
 enemies of mankind, that is to sayn, the flesh, the fend, and 
 the world, thou hast suftred hem entre into thin herte 
 wilfully, by the windowes of thy body, and hast not de- 
 fended thyself sufiisantly agein hir assautes, and hir temp- 
 tations, so that they han wounded thy soule in five places, 
 this is to sayn the dedly sinnes that ben entred into thyn 
 herte by thy five wittes : and in the same manere our 
 Lord Crist hath wold and suiTred, that thy three enemies 
 l)en entred into thjn hous by the windowes, and han 
 y wounded thy dougliter in the foresayd manere. 
 
THE TALE OF MELIBEUS. 399 
 
 Certes, quod Melibee, I see wel that ye enforce you 
 mucliel by wordes to overcomen me, in swiche manere, 
 that I shal not venge me on mine enemies, shewing me the 
 perils and the evils that mighten falle of this vengeaunce : 
 but who so wolde considre in alle vengeaiinces the perils 
 and evils that mighten sue of vengeaunce taking, a man 
 wold never take vengeaunce, and that v/ere harme : for 
 by the vengeaunce taking ben the wicked men dissevered 
 fro the goode men. And they that han will to do wicked- 
 nesse, restreinen hir wicked purpos, whan they sen the punish- 
 ing and the chastidng of the trespasours. [To this answered 
 dame Prudence : Certes, quod she, I graunte you that of 
 vengeaunce taking cometh muche evil andmuche good ; but 
 vengeaunce taking apperteineth not to everich on, but only 
 to juges, and to hem that han the jurisdiction over the 
 trespasours ;] and yet say I more, that right as a singuler 
 persone sinneth in taking vengeaunce of another man, 
 right so sinneth the juge, if he do no vengeaunce of hem 
 that it han deserved. For Senek sayth thus : That maister 
 (he sayth) is good, that preveth shrewes. And Cassiodore 
 saith : A man dredeth to do outrages, whan he wot and 
 knoweth, that it displeseth to the juges and soveraines. 
 And another sayth : The juge that dredeth to do right, 
 maketh men shrewes. And Seint Poule the Apostle sayth 
 in his Epistle, whan he writeth unto the Eomaines, that 
 the juges beren not the spere withouten cause, but they 
 beren it to punishe the shrewes and misdoers, and for to 
 defende the goode men. If ye wiln than take vengeaunce 
 of youre enemies, ye shuln retourne or have your recours 
 to the juge, that hath the jurisdiction upon hem, and he 
 shal punishe hem, as the lawe axeth and requireth. 
 
 A, sayd Melibee, this vengeaunce liketh me nothing. I 
 bethink me now, and take hede how that fortune hath 
 norished me fro my childhode, and hath holpen me to 
 passe many a stronge pas : now wol I assayen hire, trow- 
 ing, with Goddes helpe, that she shal helpe me my shame 
 for to venge. 
 
 Certes, quod Prudence, if ye wol werke by my conseil, 
 ye shuln not assaye fortune by no way : ne ye ne shuln 
 not lene or bowe unto hire, after the wordes of Senek ; 
 for thinges that ben folily don, and tho that ben don in 
 hope of fortune, shuln never come to good ende. And as 
 the same Senek sayth : The more clere and the more 
 shining that fortune is, the more brotel and the soner 
 
400 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 broke she is. Trusteth not in hire, for she n'is not stede< 
 fast ne stable : for whan thou trowest to be most siker 
 and seure of hire helpe, she wol faille and deceive thee. 
 And wheras ye sayn, that fortune hath norished you fro 
 youre childhode, I say that in so muchel ye shuln the lesse 
 truste in hire, and in hire wit. For Senek saith : What 
 man that is norished by fortune, she maketh him a gret 
 fool. Now than sin ye desire and axe vengeaunce, and 
 the vengeaunce, that is don after the lawe and before the 
 juge, ne liketh you not, and the vengeaunce, that is don 
 in hope of fortune, is perilous and uncertain, than have ye 
 non other remedie, but for to have your recours unto the 
 soveraine juge, that vengeth alle vilanies, and wronges ; 
 and he shal venge you, after that himself witnesseth, 
 whereas he saith; Leveth the vengeaunce to me, and I 
 shal do it. 
 
 Melibeus answered : If I ne venge me of the vilanie 
 that men han don to me, I sompne^ or warne hem, that 
 ban don to me vilanie, and alle other, to do me another 
 vilanie. For it is written ; If thou take no vengeaunce of 
 an olde vilany, thou sompnest thin adversaries to do thee 
 a newe vilanie : and also for my sufFraunce, men wolden 
 do me so muche vilanie, that I might neither bere it ne 
 susteine ; and so shulde I ben put and holden over lowe. 
 For som men sain. In muchel sufifring shul many thinges 
 falle unto thee, which thou shalt not mowe suffre. 
 
 Certes, quod Prudence, I graunte you wel, that over- 
 muchel suifraunce is not good, but yet ne folweth it not 
 therof, that every persone to whom men don vilanie, shuld 
 take of it vengeaunce : for that apperteineth and longeth 
 all only to the juges, for they shul venge the vilanies and 
 injuries: and therfore tho two auctoritees, that ye han 
 sayd above, ben only understonden in the juges: for whan 
 they suft'ren overmuchel the wronges and vilanies to be 
 don, withouten punishing, they sompne not a man all only^ 
 for to do newe wronges, but they commaunden it : al so as 
 a wise man sayth, that the juge that correcteth not the 
 sinner, commaundeth and biddeth him do sinne. And the 
 juges and soveraines mighten in hir lond so muche suffre of 
 the shrewes and misdoers, that they shulden by swiche 
 Birffraunce, by proces of time, wexen of swiche power and 
 might, that they shuld putte out the juges and the sove- 
 
 1 Summon, challenge. 2 /. c., they not only summon. 
 
 d 
 
THE TALE OP MELIBEUS. 401 
 
 raines from liir places, and atte laste maken hem less Iiir 
 lordshippes. 
 
 But now let iis putte, that ye have leve to venge you ; 
 I say ye be not of might and power, as now to venge you: 
 for if ye wol maken comparison unto the might of youre 
 adversaries, ye slinln finde in many thinges, that I have 
 shewed you er this, that hir condition is better than youres, 
 and therfore say I, that it is good as now, that ye suffre 
 and be patient, 
 
 Forthermore ye knowen wel, that after the commune 
 saw, it is a woodnesse, a man to strive with a stronger, or 
 a more mighty man than he is himself ; and for to strive 
 with a man of even strengthe, that is to say, with as strong 
 a man as he is, it is peril ; and for to strive with a weker 
 man, it is folic ; and therfore shulde a man flee striving, as 
 muchel as he mighte. For Salomon sayth : It is a gret 
 worship to a man to kepe him fro noise and strif. And if 
 it so happe, that a man of greter mighte and strengthe than 
 thou art, do thee grevaunce : studie and besie thee rather 
 to stille the same grevaunce, than for to venge thee. For 
 Senek sayth, that he putteth him in a grete peril, that 
 striveth with a greter man than he is himself. And Caton ' 
 sayth ; If a man of higher estat or degree, or more mighty 
 than thou, do thee anoye or grevance, suffre him : for he 
 that ones hath greved thee, may another time releve thee 
 and helpe thee. Yet sette I cas,^ ye have bothe might and 
 licence for to venge you, I say that ther ben ful many 
 thiuges that shuln restreine you of vengeance taking, and 
 make you for to encline to suffre, and for to han patience 
 in the wronges that han been don to you. First and for- 
 ward, if ye wol considre the defautes that ben in youre 
 owen persone, for which defautes God hath suffred you 
 have this tribulation, as I have sayd to you herebeforne. 
 For the Poete sayth, that we oughten patiently taken the 
 tribulations that comen to us, whan that we thinken and 
 eonsideren, that we han deserved to have hem. And Seint 
 Gregorie sayth, that whan a man considereth wel the nom- 
 bre of his defautes and of his sinnes, the peines and the 
 tribulations that he suffereth, semen the lesse unto him. 
 And in as muche as him thinketh his sinnes more hevy 
 and grevous, in so muche semeth his peine the lighter and 
 the esier unto him. Also ye owen to encline and bowe 
 
 1 I put the case, I suppose. 
 
402 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 yoTire herte, to take the patience of cure Lord Jesu Crist, 
 as sayth Seint Peter in his Epistles. Jesu Crist (he saith) 
 hath suffred for ns, and yeven ensample to every man to 
 folwe and sue him, for he dide never sinne, ne never came 
 ther a vilains word out of his mouth. Whan men cursed 
 him, he cursed hem nought; and whan men beten him, he 
 manaced hem nought. Also the gret patience, which 
 Seintes, that ben in Paradis, han had in tribulations that 
 they han suft'red, withouten hir desert or gilt, oughte 
 muchel stirre you to patience. Forthermore, ye shulde 
 enforce you to have patience, considering that the tribu- 
 lations of this world but litel while endure, and sone passed 
 ben and gon, and the joye that a man seketh to han by 
 patience in tribulations is perdurable ; after that the 
 Apostle sayth in his Epistle; the joye of God, he sayth, is 
 perdurable, that is to sayn, everlasting. Also troT\^eth and 
 beleveth stedfastly, that he n'is not Avel ynorished ne wel 
 ytaught, that cannot have patience, or wol not receive 
 patience. For Salomon sayth, that the doctrine and wit 
 of a man is knowen by patience. And in another place he 
 sayeth, that he that is patient, governeth him by gret 
 prudence. And the same Salomon saith : The angrie and 
 wrathful man maketh noises, and the patient man attem- 
 preth and stilleth hem. He saith also, It is more worth 
 to be patient than for to be right strong. And he that 
 may have the lordshipe of his owen herte, is more to preise, 
 than he that by his force or strengthe taketh gret citees. 
 And therfore sayth Seint James in his EjDistle, that 
 patience is a gret vertue of perfection. 
 
 Certes, quod Melibee, I graunte you, Dame Prudence, 
 that patience is a gret vertue of perfection, but every man 
 may not have the perfection that ye seken, ne I am not of 
 the nombre of the right par fit men: for min herte may 
 never be in pees, unto the time it be venged. And al be it 
 so, that it was gret peril to min enemies to do me a vilanie 
 in taking vengeaunce upon me, yet token they non hede of 
 the 23eril, but fulfilleden hir wicked will and hir corage: 
 and therfore me thinketh men oughten not repreve me, 
 though I put me in a litel peril for to venge me, and 
 though I do a gret excesse, that is to sayn, that I venge 
 on outrage by another. 
 
 A, quod dame Prudence, ye sayn your will and as you 
 liketh ; but in no cas of the world a man shulde not don 
 outrage ne excesse, for to vengen him. For Cassiodore 
 
THE TALE OF MELIBEUS. 403 
 
 sayth, that as evil doth lie that vengeth him by outrage, 
 as he that doth the outrage. And therfore ye shuln venge 
 you after the ordre of right, that is to sayn, by the lawe, 
 and not by excesse, ne by outrage. And also if ye wo\ 
 venge you of the outrage of youre adversaries, in other 
 inanere than right commaundeth, ye sinnen. And ther- 
 fore sayth Senek, that a man shal never venge shrewednesse 
 by shrewednesse. And if ye say that right axeth a man 
 to deiende violence by violence, and fighting by fighting : 
 certes ye say soth, whan the defence is don withouten in- 
 tervalle, or withouten tarying or delay, for to defende him, 
 and not for to venge. And it behoveth, that a man putte 
 swiche attemj)eraunce in his defence, that men have no 
 cause ne mater to repreve him, that defendeth him, of out- 
 rage and excesse, for elles were it againe res on. Parde ye 
 knowen wel, that ye maken no defence as now, for to de- 
 fende you, but for to venge you : and so sheweth it, that ye 
 han no will to do youre dede attemprely ; and therfore me 
 thinketh that patience is good. For Salomon sayth, that 
 he that is not patient, shal have gret harme. 
 
 Certes, quod Melibee, I graunte you, that whan a man 
 is impatient and wrothe of that that toucheth him not, and 
 that apperteineth not unto him, though it harme him it is 
 no wonder. For the lawe saith, that he is coupable that 
 entremeteth or medleth with swiche thing, as apper- 
 teineth not unto him. And Salomon saith, that he that 
 entremeteth of the noise or strif of another man, is like 
 to him that taketh a straunge hound by the eres : for right 
 as he that taketh a straunge hound by the eres is otherwhile 
 bitten with the hound, right in the same wise, it is reson 
 that he have harme, that by his impatience medleth him 
 of the noise of another man, wheras it apperteineth not 
 unto him. But ye knowe wel, that this dede, that is to 
 sayn, my greef and my disese, toucheth me right nigh. And 
 therfore though I be wroth and impatient, it is no mer- 
 vaille : and (saving your grace) I cannot see that it might 
 gretly harme me, though I took vengeaunce, for I am 
 richer and more mighty than min enemies ben : and wel 
 knowe ye, that by money and by having gret possessions, 
 ben alle thinges of this world governed. And Salomon 
 sayth, that alle thinges obeye to money. 
 
 Whan Prudence had herd hire husbond avaunte him of 
 his richesse and of his money, dispreising the power of his 
 adversaries, she spake and sayd in this wise : Certes, dere 
 
404 THE CANTEEBURY TALES. 
 
 Sire, I grannte you that ye ben riche and miglity, and that 
 ridiesses ben good to hem that han wel ygeten hem, and, 
 that wel conne usen hem. For right as the body of a man 
 may not liven withouten soul, no more may it liven with- 
 outen temporel goodes, and by richesses may a man gete 
 him grete frendes. And therfore sayth Pamphilus : If a 
 netherdes^ doughter (he sayth) be riche, she may chese of 
 a thousand men, which she wol take to hire husbond : for 
 of a thousand men on wol not forsaken hire ne refusen hire. 
 And this Pamphilus saith also : If thou be right happy, 
 that is to sayn, if thou be right riche, thou shalt find a gret 
 nombre of felawes and frendes ; and if thy fortune chaunge, 
 that thou wexe poure, farewel frendshipe and felawshipe, 
 for thou shalt be al allone withouten any compaignie, but 
 if it be the compaignie of poure folk. And yet sayth this 
 Pamphilus moreover, that they that ben bond and thralle 
 of linage, shuln be made worthy and noble by richesses. 
 And right so as by richesses ther comen many goodes, 
 right so by poverte come ther many harmes and eviles : for 
 gret poverte constreineth a man to do many eviles. And 
 therfore clepeth Cassiodore poverte the moder of mine, 
 that is to sayn, the moder of overthrowing or falling doun. 
 And therfore sayth Piers Alphonse : on of the gretest adver- 
 sitees of this world, is whan a free man by kinde, or of 
 birthe, is constreined by jDoverte to eten the almesse of his 
 enemie. And the same sayth Innocent in on of his bookes : 
 he sayth, that sorweful and mishappy is the condition of a 
 poure begger, for if he axe not his mete, he dieth for hunger, 
 and if he axe, he dieth for shame : and algates necessitee 
 constreineth him to axe. And therfore sayth Salomon, that 
 better it is to die, than for to have swiche poverte. And 
 as the same Salomon sayth : Better it is to die of bitter 
 deth, than for to liven in swiche wise. By thise resons 
 that I have said unto you, and by many other resons 
 that I coude saye, I graunte you that richesses ben good to 
 hem that wel geten hem, and to hem that wel usen tho 
 richesses : and therfore wol I shewe you how ye shuln be- 
 have you in gadering of youre richesses, and in what manere 
 ye shuln usen hem. 
 
 First, ye shuln geten hem withouten gret desir, by good 
 leiser, sokingly,^ and not over hastifly, for a man that is to 
 desiring to gete richesses, abandoneth him first to thefte 
 and to alle other eviles. And therfore sayth Salomon : He 
 that hasteth him to besily to wexe riche, he shal be non 
 1 Neatherd's. ^ Gently. 
 
THE TALE OP MELIBEUS. 405 
 
 innocent. He sayth also, that the richesse that hastily 
 Cometh to a man, sone and lightly goeth and passeth from 
 a man, but that richesse that cometh litel and litel, wexeth 
 alway and multiplieth. And, Sire, ^^e shulen get richesses 
 by yoiire wit and by youre travaille, nnto youre profite, 
 and that withouten wrong or harme doing to any other 
 persone. For the lawe sayth : Ther maketh no man 
 himself riche, if he do harme to another wight ; this is to 
 say, that nature defendeth and forbedeth by right, that no 
 man make himself riche, unto the harme of another jDersone. 
 And TuUius sayth, that no sorwe, ne no drede of deth, ne 
 nothing that may falle unto a man, is so muchel ageins 
 nature, as a man to encrese his owen profite, to harme of 
 another man. And though the grete men and the mighty 
 men geten richesses more lightly than thou, yet shalt thou 
 not ben idel ne slowe to do thy profite, for thou shalt in 
 alle wise flee idelnesse. For Salomon sayth, that idelnesse 
 techeth a man to do many eviles. And the same Salomon 
 sayth, that he that travailleth and besieth him to tillen 
 his lond, shal ete bred: but he that is idel, and casteth 
 him to no besinesse ne occupation, shal falle into poverte, 
 and die for hunger. And he that is idel and slow, can 
 never find covenable time for to do his profite. For ther 
 is a versifiour sayth, that the idel man excuseth him in 
 Winter, because of the grete cold, and in Summer by 
 encheson of the hete. For thise causes, sayth Caton, 
 waketh,^ and enclineth you not over muchel to slepe, for 
 over muchel reste norisheth and causeth many vices. 
 And therfore sayth Seint Jerome ; Doeth som good dedes, 
 that the devil which is oure enemie, ne finde you not 
 unoccu]3ied, for the devil ne taketh not lightly unto his 
 werking swiche as he findeth occupied in goode werkes. 
 
 Than thus in geting richesses ye musten flee idelnesse. 
 And afterward ye shuln usen the richesses, which ye han 
 geten by youre wit and by youre travaille, in swiche 
 manere, that men holde you not to scarce ne to sparing, 
 ne fool-large, that is to say, over large a spender: for right 
 as men blamen an avaricious man, because of his scarcitee 
 and chincherie,^ in the same wise is he to blame, that 
 spendeth over largely. And therfore saith Caton : Use 
 
 1 I can find nothing nearer to this in Cato, than the maxim, L. iii. 
 Dist. 7. Segnitienifugito. — For the quotations from the same author in 
 the following page, see L. iv. Dist. 17, and L. iii. Dist. 23. — Tyrwhilt. 
 2 Over-sparingness, niggardness. 
 
406 THE CANTEHEUllY TALES. 
 
 (sayth he) tlie richesses that thou hast ygeten in swii^La 
 manere, that men have no matere ne cause to calle thee 
 nother wretche ne chinche: for it is a gret shame to a 
 man to have a jDoure herte and a riche purse. He sayth 
 also: the goodes that thou hast ygeten, use hem bymesure, 
 that is to sayn, spende mesurably; for they that folily 
 wasten and dispenden the goodes that they lian, whan 
 they han no more propre of hir owen, than they shapen 
 hem to take the goodes of another man. I say than that 
 ye shuhi flee avarice, using your richesses in swiche 
 manere, than men sa3Ti not that your richesses ben yberied, 
 but that ye have hem ia youre might, and in youre 
 welding.^ For a wise man rej)reveth the avaricious man, 
 and sayth thus in two vers. Wherto and why berieth a 
 man his goodes by his gret avarice, and knoweth wel, that 
 nedes must he die, for deth is the end of every man, as in 
 this present lif ? and for what cause or encheson joineth 
 he him, or knitteth he him so fast unto his goodes, that 
 alle his wittes mown not disseveren him, or departen him 
 from his goodes, and knoweth wel, or oughte to knowe, 
 that whan he is ded, he shal nothing bere with him out 
 of this world ? And therfore sayth Seint Augustine, that 
 the avaricious man is likened unto helle, that the more it 
 swalweth, the more desir it hath to swalwe and devoure. 
 And as wel as ye wolde eschue to be called an avaricious 
 man or chinche, as wel shulde ye kepe you and governe 
 you in swiche a wise, that men calle you not fool-large. 
 Therfore sayth Tullius : The goodes of thin hous ne shulde 
 not ben hid ne kept so close, but that they might ben 
 opened by pitee and debonairetee ; that is to sayn, to 
 yeve hem part that han gret nede ; ne thy goodes shulden 
 not ben so open, to be every mannes goodes. Afterward, 
 in geting of your richesses, and in using of hem, ye shuln 
 alway have three thinges in youre herte, that is to say, 
 oure Lord God, conscience, and good name. First, ye shuln 
 have God in youre herte, and for no richesse ye shuln do 
 no thing, which may in any manere displese God that is 
 your creatour and maker. For after the word of Salomon, 
 it is better to have a litel good with love of God, than to 
 have muchel good, and lese the love of his Lord God. 
 And the Prophete sayth, That better it is to ben a good 
 man, and have litel good and tresor, than to be holden a 
 
 1 Usage. 
 
THE TALE OP MELIBEUS. 407 
 
 slu'ewe, and have grete richesses. And yet I say lorther- 
 more, that ye shnlden alway do youre besinesse to gets 
 you richesses, so that ye gete hem with good conscience. 
 And the Apostle sayth, that tlier n'is thing in this world 
 of which we shulden have so gret joye, as whan oure con- 
 science bereth us good witnesse. And the wise man sayth : 
 The substaunce of a man is lul good, whan sinne is not 
 in mannes conscience. Afterward, in geting of youre 
 richesses, and in using of hem, ye must have gret besinesse 
 and gret diligence, that youre good name be alway kept 
 and conserved. For Salomon sayth, that beter it is, and 
 more it availeth a man to have a good name, than for to 
 have grete richesses: and therfore he sayth in another 
 place: Do grete diligence (saith Salomon) in keping o± 
 thy frendes, and of thy good name, ior it shal lenger abide 
 with thee, than any tresor, be it never so precious. And 
 certes, he shulde not be called a Gentilman, that after God 
 and good conscience, alle thinges left, ne doth his diligence 
 and besinesse, to kepen his good name. And Cassiodore 
 sayth, that it is a signe of a gentil herte, whan a man loveth 
 and desireth to have a good name. And therfore sayth 
 Seint Augustine, that ther ben two thinges that arn right 
 necessarie and nedeful ; and that is good conscience, and 
 good losf that is to sayn, good conscience to thin owen 
 persone inward, and good los lor thy neighebour outward. 
 And he thattrosteth him so muchel in his good conscience, 
 that he despiseth and setteth at nought his good name or 
 los, and recketh not though he kepe not his good name, 
 n'is but a cruel cherl. 
 
 Su-e, now have I shewed you how ye shulden do in 
 geting richesses, and how ye shuln usen hem : and I see 
 wel that for the trust that ye han in youre richesses, ye 
 wiln meve werre and bataille. I conseille you that ye 
 beginne no bataille ne werre, in trust of youre richesses, 
 for they ne sufficen not werres to mainteine. And ther- 
 fore sayth a Philosophre : That man that desireth and wol 
 algates han werre, shal never have suffisaunce : for the 
 richer that he is, the greter dispences must he make, if he 
 wol have worship and victorie. And Salomon saith, that 
 the greter richesses that a man hath, the mo dispendours 
 he hath. And, dere Sire, al be it so, that for your 
 richesses ye moun have muchel folk, yet behoveth it not, 
 ne it is not good to beginne werre, wheras ye moun in 
 other manere have pees, unto youre worshij) and profite: 
 35 
 
40 S THE CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 for the victorie of batailles that ben in this world, lith not 
 in gret nombre or multitude oi peple, ne in the vertue of 
 man, but it lith in the will and in the hond of oure Lord 
 God almighty. And therfore Judas Machabeus, which 
 was Goddes knight, whan he shulde fighte again his adver- 
 sarie, that hadde a greter nombre and a greter multitude 
 of folk, and strenger than was the peple of this Machabee, 
 yet he recomforted his litel compaignie, and sayde right 
 in this wise : Al so lightly' (sayde he) may our Lord God 
 almighty yeve victorie to a fewe folk, as to many folk ; for 
 the victorie of a bataille cometh not by the gret nombre 
 of peple, but it cometh from oure Lord God of heven. 
 And, dere Sire, for as muchel as ther is no man certaine, 
 if it be worthy that God yeve him victorie or not, after 
 that Salomon sayth, therfore every man shulde gretly 
 drede werres to beginner and because that in batailles 
 fallen many perils, and it happeth other while, that a,s 
 sone is the gret man slain, as the litel man ; and, as it is 
 ywritten in the second book of Kinges, the dedes of 
 batailles ben aventurous, and nothing certain, for as lightly 
 is on hurt with a spere as another ; and for ther is gret 
 peril in werre ; therfore shulde a man flee and eschue 
 werre in as muchel as a man may goodly. For Salomon 
 sayth : He that loveth peril, shal falle in peril. 
 
 After that dame Prudence had spoken in this manere, 
 Melibee answerd and saide : I see wel, dame Prudence, 
 that by youre faire wordes and by youre resons, that ye 
 han shewed me, that the werre liketh you nothing: but 
 I have not yet herd your conseil, how I shal do in this 
 nede. 
 
 Certes, quod she, I conseille you that ye accorde with 
 youre adversaries, and that ye have pees with hem. For 
 Seint James sayth in his Epistle, that by concorde and pees, 
 the smale richesses wexen grete, and by debat and discorde 
 grete richesses fallen doun. And ye knowen wel, that on 
 of the gretest and moste soveraine thing, that is in this 
 world, is unitee and pees. And therfore sayde oure Lord 
 Jesu Crist to his Apostles in this wise : Wel happy and 
 blessed ben they that loven and purchasen pees, for they 
 ben called the children of God. A, quod Melibee, now see 
 I wel, that ye loven not min honour, ne my worshipe. Ye 
 knowen wel that min adversaries han begonne this debat 
 
THE TALE OP MELIBEUS. 409 
 
 and "brige^ by liir outrage, and ye see wel, that they ne 
 requeren ne prayen me not of pees, ne they axen not to be 
 reconciled ; wol ye than that I go and nieke me, and obeye 
 me to hem, and crie hem mercie ? Forsoth that were not 
 my worshipe : for right as men sayn, that overgret hom- 
 linesse engendreth dispreising, so fareth it by to gret. 
 humilitee or mekenesse. 
 
 Than began dame Prudence to make semblannt of wrathe, 
 and sayde: Certes, Sire, (sanf your grace) I love youre 
 honour and youre profite, as I do min owen, and ever have 
 don ; ye, ne non other seyn never the contrary : and if I 
 had sayde, that ye shulde han purchased the pees and the 
 reconciliation, I ne hadde not muchel mistake me, ne sayde 
 amis. For the Wise man sayth : The dissention beginneth 
 by another man, and the reconciling beginneth by thyself. 
 And the Prophete saith : Flee shrewednesse and do good- 
 nesse ; seke pees and folwe it, in as muchel as in thee is. 
 Yet say I not, that ye shuln rather pursue to youre adver- 
 saries for pees, than they shuln to you : for I know wel 
 that ye ben so hard-herted, that ye wol do nothing for me ; 
 and Salomon sayth : he that hath over hard an herte, atte 
 laste he shal mishappe and mistide. 
 
 "Whan Melibee had herd dame Prudence make semblaunt 
 of wrath, he sayde in this wise. Dame, I pray you that ye 
 be not displesed of thinges that I say, for I knowe wel that 
 I am angry and wroth, and that is no wonder ; and they 
 that ben wroth, woten not wel what they don, ne what 
 they sayn. Therfore the Prophete sayth, that troubled 
 eyen han no clere sighte. But sayth and conseilleth me 
 as you liketh, for I am redy to do right as ye wol desire. 
 And if ye repreve me of my folic, I am the more holden 
 to love you and to preise you. For Salomon saith, that he 
 that repreveth him that doth folic, he shal find greter 
 grace, than he that deceiveth him by swete wordes. 
 
 Than sayde Dame Prudence ; I make no semblaunt of 
 wrath ne of anger, but for youre grete profite. For Salomon 
 saith: he is more worth, that rejDreveth or chideth a fool 
 for his folic, shewing him semblaunt of wrath, than he that 
 supporteth him and preiseth him in his misdoing, and 
 laugheth at his folic. And this same Salomon saith after- 
 ward, that by the sorweful visage of a man, that is to sayn, 
 by the sory and hevy countenance of a man, the fool cor- 
 recteth and amendeth himself. 
 
410 TUE CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 Than said INielibee ; I shall not conne answere unto so 
 many faire resons as ye putten to me and shewen : sayth 
 shortly youre will and youre conseiL and I am al redy to 
 performe and fulfille it. 
 
 Than Dame Prudence discovered ail hire will unto him 
 and saide : I conseille you, quod she, above alle thinges that 
 ye make pees betwene God and you, and be reconciled unto 
 him and to his grace, Jor as I have sayde you herebeforen, 
 God hath suffered you to have this tribulation and disese 
 for youre sinnes : and if ye do as I say you, God wol sende 
 youre adversaries unto you, and make hem falle at youre 
 feet, redy to do youre will and youre commaundements. 
 For Salomon sayth ; whan the condition of man is plesaunt 
 and liking to God, he chaungeth the hertes of the mannes 
 adversaries, and constreineth hem to besechen him of pees 
 and of grace. And I pray you let me speke with your 
 adversaries in privee place, for they shuln not knowe that 
 it be of youre will or youre assent; and than, whan I 
 knowe hir will and hir entente, I may conseille you the 
 more seurely. 
 
 Dame, quod Melibeus, doth youre will and youre liking, 
 for I putte me holly in youre disposition and ordinaunce. 
 
 Than Dame Prudence, when she sey the good will of 
 hire husbond, delibered unto hire, and toke avis in hire 
 self, thinking how she might bring this nede unto goode 
 ende. And whan she sey hire time, she sent for thise ad- 
 versaries to come unto hire in to a privee place, and shewed 
 wisely unto hem the grete goodes that comen of pees, and 
 the grete harmes and perils that ben in werre ; and saide 
 to hem, in a goodly manere, how that hem oughte have 
 gret repentaunce of the injuries and wronges, that they 
 hadden don to Melibeus hire lord, and unto hire and to 
 hire doughter.' 
 
 And whan they herden the goodly wordes of Dame Pru- 
 dence, they weren so surprised and ravished, and hadden 
 so gret joye of hire, that wonder was to telle. A, lady, 
 quod they, ye have shewed unto us the blessing of swete- 
 nesse, after the saying of David the Prophete ; for the re- 
 conciling, which we be not worthy to have in no manere, 
 but we oughten requeren it with grete contrition and 
 humilitee, ye of youre grete goodnesse have presented unto 
 us. Now see we wel, that the science and conning of 
 Salomon is ful trewe; for he saith, that swete wordes 
 multiplien and encresen frendes, and maken shrewes to be 
 debonaire and meke. 
 
THE TALE OF MELIBEUS. 411 
 
 CerteSj quod they, we putten oure dede, and all oure 
 matere and cause, al holly in youre good will, and ben 
 redy to obeye imto the siDeche and comniaundement of my 
 lord Melibeiis. And therfore, dere and benigne lady, we 
 praye you and beseche you as mekely as we conne and 
 moun, that it like unto youre grete goodnesse to fidfille 
 in dede youre goodly wordes. For we consideren and 
 knowelechen, that we han offended and greved my lord 
 Melibeus out of mesure, so fer forth, that we ben not of 
 power to maken him amendes ; and therfore we oblige and 
 binde us and oure frendes, for to do all his will and his 
 commaundements : but peraventure he hath swiche 
 hevinesse and swiche wrath to us ward, because of oure 
 offence, that he wol enjoynen us swiche a peine, as we 
 moun not bere ne susteine ; and therfore, noble ladie, we 
 beseche to youre womanly pittee to take swiche avisemeut 
 in this nede, that we, ne oure frendes, ben not disherited 
 and destroied, thurgh oure folie. 
 
 Certes, quod Prudence, it is an hard thing and right 
 perilous, that a man putte him all outrely in the arbitra- 
 tion and jugement, and in the might and power of his 
 enemie; for Salomon sayth: leveth me, and yeveth cre- 
 dence to that that I shall say : to thy sone, to thy wif, to 
 thy frend, ne to thy brother, ne yeve thou never might ne 
 maistrie over thy body, while thou livest. Now, sith he 
 defendeth that a man shulde not yeve to his brother, ne to 
 his frend, the might of his body, by a strenger reson he 
 defendeth and forbedeth a man to yeve himself to his enemy. 
 And natheles, I conseille you that ye mistruste not my 
 lord: for I wot wel and know veraily,that he is debonaire 
 and meke, large, curteis, and nothing desirous ne coveitoua 
 of good ne ricliesse : for ther is nothing in this world that 
 he desireth, save only worshipe and honour. Forthermore 
 I know wel, and am right sure, that he shal nothing do in 
 this nede withouten my conseil ; and I shal so werken in 
 this cas, that by the grace of oure Lord God ye shuln be 
 reconciled unto us. 
 
 Than saiden they with o vois; worshipful lady, we 
 putten us and oure goodes al fully in youre will and dis- 
 position, and ben redy to come, what day that it like unto 
 youre noblesse to limite us or assigne us, for to make oure 
 obligation and bond, as strong as it liketh unto youre 
 goodnesse, that we moun fulfille the will of you and of my 
 lord Melibee. 
 
 Whan Dame Prudence had herd the answer of thise men 
 
412 THE CANTERBURY TALES, 
 
 she bad hem go agem prively, and slie retourned to hh-e 
 lord Melibee, and told him how she fond his adversaries ful 
 re23entaunt, knowleching ful lowly hir sinnes and trespas, 
 and how they weren redy to suffren all peine, requering 
 and preying him of mercy and pitee. 
 
 Than saide Melibee ; he is wel worthy to have pardon 
 and foryevenesse of his sinne, that excuseth not his sinne, 
 but knowlecheth, and repenteth him, axing indulgence. 
 For Senek saith ; ther is the remission and foryevenesse, 
 wher as the confession is ; for confession is neigh ebour to 
 innocence. And therefore I assente and conferme me to 
 have pees, but it is good that we do nought withouten the 
 assent and will of oure frendes. 
 
 Than was Prudence right glad and joyeful, and saide ; 
 certes, sire, ye han well and goodly answered: for right as 
 by the conseil, assent, and helpe of your frendes, ye han be 
 stired to venge you and make werre, right so withouten 
 hir conseil shul ye not accord you, ne have pees with 
 youre adversaries. For the lawe saith : ther is nothing so 
 good by way of kinde, as a thing to be unbounde by him 
 that it was ybounde. 
 
 And than Dame Prudence, withouten delay or tarying, 
 sent anon hire messageres for hir kin and for hir olde 
 frendes, which that were trewe and wise: and told hem by 
 ordre, in the jDresence of Melibee, all the matere, as it is 
 above expressed and declared ; and preied hem that they 
 wold yeve hir avis and conseil, what were best to do in 
 this nede. And whan Melibeus frendes hadden taken hir 
 avis and deliberation of the foresaid matere, and hadden 
 examined it by gret besinesse and gret diligence, they 
 yaven ful conseil for to have pees and reste, and that 
 Melibee shulde receive with good herte his adversaries to 
 foryevenesse and mercy. 
 
 And whan dame Prudence had herd the assent of hire 
 lord Melibee, and the conseil of his frendes, accord with 
 hire will and hire entention, she was wonder glad in hire 
 herte, and sayde: ther is an olde Proverbe, quod she, 
 sayth, that the goodnesse that thou maist do this day, do 
 it, and abide not, ne delay it not til to morwe : and ther- 
 fore I conseille, that ye sende youre messageres, swiche as 
 ben discrete and wise, unto youre adversaries, telling hem 
 on youre behalf, that if they wol trete of pees and of 
 accord, that they shape hem, withouten delay or tarying, 
 to come unto us. Which thing parfourmed was indede. 
 
 i 
 
THE TALE OP MELIBEUS. 413 
 
 And whan thise trespasours and repenting folk of hir 
 folies, that is to sayn, the adversaries of Melibee, hadden 
 herd what thise messageres sajden unto hem, they weren 
 right glade and joyeful, and answerden ful mekely and 
 benignely, yelding graces and thankinges to hir lord 
 Melibee, and to all his compagnie: and shopen hem 
 withouten delay to go with the messageres, and obeye to 
 the commaundement of hir lord Melibee.i 
 
 And right anon they token hir way to the court of 
 Melibee, and token with hem som of hir trewe frendes, to 
 make feith for hem, and for to ben hir borwes.^ And whan 
 they were comen to the presence of Melibee, he saide hem 
 thise wordes : it stant thus, quod Melibee, and soth it is, 
 that ye causeles, and withouten skill and reson, han don 
 gi-ete injuries and wronges to me, and to my wif Prudence, 
 and to my doughter also, for ye han entred into myn hous 
 by violence, and have don swiche outrage, that alle men 
 knowen wel that ye han deserved the deth : and therfore 
 wol I know and wete of you, whether ye wol putte the 
 punishing and chastisuig, and the vengeaunce of this out- 
 rage, in the will of me and of my wif, or ye wol not. 
 
 Than the wisest of hem three answered for hem alle, and 
 saide. Su-e, quod he, we knowen wel, that we ben un- 
 worthy to come to the court of so gret a lord and so worthy 
 as ye ben, for we han so gretly mistaken us, and han 
 offended and agilte in swiche wise ageui youre high lord- 
 shipe, that trewely we han deserved the deth ; but yet for 
 the grete goodnesse and debonairetee, that all the world 
 witnesseth of youre persone, we submitten us to the ex- 
 cellence and benignitee of youre gracious lordshipe, and 
 ben redy to obeye to alle youre comandements, besech- 
 ing you, that of youre merciable pitee ye wol considere 
 cure grete repentance and lowe submission, and graunte 
 us foryevenesse of oure outragious trespas and offence : for 
 wel we knowen, that youre liberal grace and mercie 
 stretchen hem forther into goodnesse, than don om-e 
 outragious giltes and trespas into wickednesse ; al be it 
 that cursedly and dampnably we Isan agilte again youre 
 highe lordshipe. 
 
 Than Melibee toke hem up fro tho ground ful benignely, 
 and received hir obligations, and hir bondes, by hir othes 
 upon hir plegges and borwes, and aseigned hem a certain 
 
 1 Pledged. 
 
4:14 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 day to retourne unto his court for to receive and accept 
 sentence and jugement, that Melibee wolde commande to 
 be don on hem, by the causes aforesaid ; which thinges or- 
 deined, every man retourned to his hous. 
 
 And whan that Dame Prudence saw hire time, she freined* 
 and axed hire lord Melibee, what vengeance he thoughte to 
 taken of his adversaries. 
 
 To which Melibee answerd, and saide : certes, quod he, I 
 thinke and purpose me fully to disherite hem of all that 
 ever they han, and for to putte hem in exile for ever. 
 
 Certes, quod Dame Prudence, this were a cruel sentence, 
 and muchel agein reson. Por ye ben riche jTiough, and 
 han no nede of other mennes good ; and ye might lightly 
 in this wise gete you a coveitous name, which is a vicious 
 thing, and oughte to ben eschewed of every good man : for 
 after the sawe of the Apostle, coveitise is rote of alle harmes. 
 And therfore it were better for you to lese muchel good of 
 your owen, than for to take of hir good in this manere. 
 Por better it is to lese good with worship, than to winne 
 good with vilanie and shame. And every man oughte to 
 do his diligence and his besinesse, to gete him a good name. 
 And yet shal he not only besie him in keping his good 
 name, but he shal also enforcen him alway to do som 
 thing, by which he may renovelle his good name : for it is 
 written, that the olde good los, or good name, of a man is 
 sone gon and passed, whan it is not newed. And as 
 touching that ye sayn, that ye wol exile your adversaries, 
 that thinketh me muchel agein reson, and out of mesure, 
 considered the power that they han yeven you upon hem- 
 self. And it is written, that he is worthy to lese his privi- 
 lege, that misuseth the might and the power that is yeven 
 him. And I sette cas, ye might enjoine hem that peine by 
 right and by lav/e, (which I trowe ye mo we not do) I say, 
 ye might not putte it to execution peraventure, and than 
 it were like to retourne to the werre, as it was beforn. 
 And therfore if ye wol that men do you obeisaunce, ye 
 mustdeme more curteisly,that is to sayn, ye must yeve more 
 esie sentences and jugements. Por it is written : he that most 
 curteisly commandeth, to him men most obeyen. And ther- 
 fore I pray you, that in this necessitee and in this nede ye 
 caste you to overcome youre herte. Por Senek sayth, that 
 he that overcometh his herte, overcometh twies. And 
 
 m 
 
THE TALE OP MELIBEUS. 415 
 
 TuUius saith : tlier is nothmg so commendable in a gret 
 lord, as whan lie is debonaire and meke, and appeseth him 
 lightly. And I pray you, that ye wol now forbere to do 
 vengeaimce- in swiche a manere,that your good name may 
 be kept and conserved, and that men mown have cause 
 and matere to preise you of pitee and of mercy ; and that 
 ye have no cause to repente you of thing that ye don. For 
 Seneke saieth : he overcometh in an evil manere, that re- 
 penteth him of his victorie. Wherfore I pray you let 
 mercy be in youre herte, to the effect and entente, that God 
 almighty have mercy upon you in his last jugement : for 
 Seint James saith in his Epistle : jugement withoute 
 mercy shal he do to him, that hath no mercy of another 
 wight. 
 
 Xvhan Melibee had herd the grete skilles and resons of 
 dame Prudence, and hire wise informations and techinges, 
 his herte gan encline to the will of his wif, considering hire 
 trewe entente, enforced him anon and aissented fully to 
 werken after hire conseil, and thanked God, of whom pro- 
 cedeth all goodnesse and all vertue, that him sent a wif of 
 so gret discretion. And whan the day came that his ad- 
 versaries shulde appere in his presence, he spake to hem 
 ful goodly, and saide in this wise. Al be it so, that of 
 youre pride and high presumption and folic, and of youre 
 negligence and unconning, ye have misborne you, and 
 trespased unto me, yet for as muchel as I see and behold 
 youre grete humilitee, and that ye ben sory and repentant 
 of youre giltes, it constreineth me to do you grace and 
 mercy : wherfore I receive you into my grace, and foryeve 
 you ouirely alle the offences, injuries, and wronges, that ye 
 have don agein me and mine, to this effect and to this ende, 
 that God of his endeles mercie wol at the time of oure 
 dying foryeve us oure giltes, that we han trespased to him 
 in this wretched world : for douteles, if we be sory and 
 repentant of the sinnes and giltes, which we han trespased 
 in the sight of oure Lord God, he is so free and so merciable, 
 that he wol foryeven us oure giltes, and bringen us to the 
 bUsse that never hath enue. Amen, 
 
416 
 THE MONKES PEOLOGUK. 
 
 13895-139.20. 
 
 Whatt ended was my tale of Melibee,' 
 And of Prudence and hire benignitee, 
 Our hoste saide : as I am faithful man, 
 And by the precious corpus Madrian^ 
 I hadde lever than a barell of ale, 
 That goode lefe my wif had Iierde this tale i 
 For she n'is no thing of swiche patience, 
 As was this Melibeus wif Prudence. 
 
 By Goddes bones, whan I bete my knaves. 
 She bringeth me the grete clobbed staves, 
 And cryeth ; slee the dogges everich on, 
 And breke hem bothe bak and every bon. 
 
 And if that any neighebour of mine 
 "Wol not in chirche to my wif encline, 
 Or be so hardy to hire to trespace, 
 "Whan she cometh home she rampeth in my face. 
 And cryeth ; false coward, wreke thy wif: 
 By corpus Domini, I wol have thy knif, 
 And thou shalt have my distaf, and go spiime. 
 Fro day til night. right thus wol she beginne, 
 
 Alas, she saith, that ever I was yshape 
 To wed a milksop, or a coward ape. 
 That wol ben overladde with every wight ! 
 Thou darst not stonden by thy wives right. 
 
 This is my lif, but if that I wol fight. 
 And out at dore anon I mote me dight, 
 
 The body of St. Mathurin is probably the one meant. See his story 
 in the Golden Legende, Edit. 1527, by Winkin de ^7ol•de, 151, b. 
 " Than toke they the precious body and enoynted it witli moche reve- 
 rence; and when they had layd it in the erth, onthe morowe they came 
 to the sepulture and founde the holy body above the erth nygh unto the 
 same sepulture, and than were they all abasshed and wyst not what to 
 do." It seems, the knightes, who had brought him out of France, had 
 promised that, if he died on his journey, he should be sent back and 
 buried "where as they had taken him;" and therefore his body would 
 not stay in the ground, till it was deposited, according to promise, in 
 France, where it afterwards worked many miracles. — TyrwMtt. 
 
 M 
 
13921-13960. THE MONKES TALll 417 
 
 Or elles I am lost, but if that 1 
 Be like a wilde leon, fool-hardy. 
 
 I wote wel she wol do me slee som day 
 Som neighebour, and thanne go my way* 
 For I am perilous with knif in honde, 
 Al be it that I dare not hire withstonde i 
 For she is bigge in armes by my faith, 
 That shal he finde, that hire misdoth or saith 
 But let us passe away fro this matere. 
 
 My lord the Monk, quod he, be mery of che»*^ 
 For ye shul telle a tale trewely. 
 Lo, Eouchester stondeth here faste by. 
 Eide forth, mhi owen lord, breke not our game. 
 But by my trouthe I can not telle youre name , 
 "Whether shal I call you my lord Dan John, 
 Or Dan Thomas, or elles Dan Albon 1 
 Of what hous be ye, by your fader kin ? 
 I vow to God, thou hast a ful fau^e skin ; 
 It is a gentil pasture ther thou gost ; 
 Thou art not like a penaunt^ or a gost. 
 
 Upon my faith thou art som officer, 
 Som worthy sextein, or som celerer." 
 For by my fadres soule, as to my dome,^ 
 Thou art a maister, whan thou art at home : 
 No poure cloisterer, ne non novice. 
 But a governour bothe .ware and wise. 
 And therwithal of braunes and of bones 
 A right wel faring persone for the nones. 
 I pray to God yeve him confusion, 
 That first thee brought into religion. 
 Thou woldest han ben a trede-foul"* a right, 
 Haddest thou as grete leve, as thou hast might, 
 To parfourme all thy lust in engendrure, 
 Thou haddest begeten many a creature. 
 Alas ! why werest thou so wide a cope ? 
 God yeve me sorwe, but, and I were pope, 
 Not only thou but every mighty man, 
 Though he were shore ful high uj)on his pan, 
 Shuld have a wif, for al this world is lorn ; 
 Eeligion hath take up all the corn 
 
 1 A person doing penance. 
 
 2 The ofBcer in a monastery who had the care of the provisions 
 * In my opinion. ^ /. c, a cock. 
 
418 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 13DG1-13996. 
 
 Of treding, and we borel men ben shrimpes : 
 Of feble trees tlier comen wretched impes. 
 This maketh that our heires ben so sclendre 
 And feble, that they monn not wel engendre. 
 This maketh that our wives wol assaye 
 Beligions folk, for they moun better paye 
 Of Venus payementes than mo wen we : 
 God wote, no lussheburghes^ payen ye. 
 But be not wroth, my lord, though that I play 5 
 Tul oft in game a sothe have I herd say. 
 
 This worthy Monke toke all in patience, 
 And saide ; I wol don all my diligence, 
 As fer as souneth into honestee, 
 To tellen you a tale, or two or three. 
 And if you list to herken hiderward, 
 I wol you sayn the lif of Seint Edward ; 
 Or elles tragedies first I wol telle, 
 Of which I have an hundred in my celle, 
 
 Tragedie is to sayn a certain storie, 
 As olde bookes maken us memorie, 
 Of him that stood in gret prosperitee, 
 And is yfallen out of high degree 
 In to miserie, and endeth wretchedly. 
 And they ben versified communly 
 Of six feet, which men clepen exametron:^ 
 In prose eke ben endited many on, 
 And eke in metre, in many a sondry wise. 
 Lo, this declaring ought ynough suffice. 
 
 Now herkeneth, if you liketh for to hero. 
 But first I you beseche in this matere, 
 Though I by ordre telle not thise thinges, 
 Be it of popes, emperoures, or kinges, 
 After hir ages, as men written finde, 
 But telle hem som before and som behinde, 
 As it now cometh to my' remembrance, 
 Ha;Ve me excused of min ignorance. 
 
 1 Base corns, first imported, as Skinner thinks, from Luxemburg.— 
 Tyrwhitt. 
 
 2 It is true that the tragic Iambic verse is an Hexameter, as regards 
 the number of its metres ; but that term is usually applied to the heroic 
 Verse, composed of dactyls and spondees. 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
419 
 
 13997-14024. 
 
 I WOL bewaile in manere of tragedie 
 The harm of hem, that stode in high degree^ 
 And fellen so, that there n'as no remedie 
 To bring hem out of hire adversitee. 
 For certain whan that fortune list to flee, 
 Ther may no man of hire the cours withholde : 
 Let no man trust on blinde prosperitee ; 
 Beth ware by thise ensamples trewe and olde. 
 
 At Lucifer, though he an angel were 
 And not a man, at him I wol beginne. 
 For though fortune may non angel dere,' 
 From high degree yet fell he for his sinne 
 Doun into helle, whereas he yet is inne. 
 O Lucifer, brightest of angels alle, 
 Now art thou Sathanas, that maist not twinue^ 
 Out of miserie, in which that thou art falle. 
 
 Lo Adam, in the feld. of Damascene 
 With Goddes owen finger wrought was he, 
 And not begeten of mannes sperme unclene, 
 And welte^ all Paradis saving o tree : 
 Had never worldly man so high degree 
 As Adam, til he for misgovernance 
 Was driven out of his prosperitee 
 To labour, and to helle, and to meschance. 
 
 Lo Sampson, which that was annunciat 
 By the angel, long or his nativitee : 
 And was to God Almighty consecrat. 
 And stode in noblesse while he mighte sec : 
 
 1 Hurt. 2 Depart, turn. 3 Governed, ruled. 
 
 36 
 
420 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 14025-llOG*. 
 
 "Was never swiclie another as was he, 
 
 To speke of strength, and therto hardinesse : 
 
 But to his wives tolde he his secree, 
 
 Thurgh which he slow himself for wretchednessa. 
 
 Sampson, this noble and mighty champion, 
 Withouten wepen, save his handes twey, 
 He slow and all to-rente the leon, 
 Toward his wedding walking by the wey: 
 His false wif coude him so plese, and pray, 
 Til she his conseil knewe ; and she nntrewe 
 Unto his foos his conseil gan bewray. 
 And him forsoke, and toke another newe. 
 
 Three hundred foxes toke Sampson for ire, 
 And all hir tayles he togeder bond : 
 And set the foxes tayles all on fire, 
 For he in every tayl had knit a brond. 
 And they brent all the cornes in that lond, 
 And all hir oliveres, and vines eke. 
 A thousand men he slow eke with his hond, 
 And had no wepen, but an asses cheke. 
 
 Whan they were slain, so thursted him, that lie 
 Was wel nie lorne, for which he gan to preye, 
 That God wold on his peine han som pitee. 
 And send him drinke, or elles moste he deye : 
 And of his asses cheke, that was so dreye, 
 Out of a wang^ toth sprang anon a welle. 
 Of which he dranke ynough, shortly to seye. 
 Thus halp him God, as Judicum'^ can telle. 
 
 By veray force at Gasa on a night, 
 Maugre the Philistins of that citee. 
 The gates of the toun he hath up plight,^ 
 And on his bak ycaried hem hath he 
 High on an hill, wher as men might hem se. 
 O noble mighty Sampson, lefe and dere, 
 Haddest thou not told to women thy secree. 
 In all this world ne had ther ben thy pere. 
 
 This Sampson never sider drank ne wine, 
 Ne on his hed came rasour non ne shere, 
 By precept of the messager divine. 
 For all his strengthes in his heres were : 
 
 » Cheek. 2 j.g., Judges. » Plucked* 
 
 1 
 
14065-14100. THE MONKES TALE. 421 
 
 And fully twenty winter yere by yere 
 
 He hadde of Israel the governance : 
 
 But sone slial he wepen many a tere, 
 
 For women shuln him bringen to meschance. 
 
 Unto his lemman Dalida he told, 
 That in his heres all his strengthe lay, 
 And Msely to his fomen she him sold ; 
 And sleping in hire barme^ upon a day 
 She made to clip or shere his here away, 
 And made his fomen all his craft espien ; 
 And whan that they him fond in this array, 
 They bond him fast^ and putten out his eyen. 
 
 But or his here was clipped or yshave, 
 Ther was no bond, with which men might him bind. 
 But now is he in prison in a cave, 
 Wheras they made him at the querne^ grindO: 
 O noble Sampson, strongest of mankind, 
 O whilom juge in glory and richesse, 
 Now mayest thou wepen with thin eyen blind, 
 Sith thou fro wele art falle in wretcheclnesse. 
 
 The ende of this caitif was, as I shal seye : 
 His fomen made a feste upon a day. 
 And made him as hir fool before hem pleye : 
 And this was in a temple of gret array. 
 But at the last he made a foule affray. 
 For he two pillers shoke, and made hem falle, 
 And doun fell temple and all, and ther it lay, 
 And slow himself, and eke his fomen alle. 
 
 This is to sayn, the princes everich on, 
 And eke three thousand bodies wer ther slaia 
 With falling of the gret temple of ston. 
 Of Sampson now wol I no more sain : 
 Beth ware by this ensample old and plain. 
 That no men tell hir conseil to hir wives 
 Of swiche thing, as they wold han secree fain. 
 If that it touch hir limmes or hir lives, 
 
 1 Lap. 2 Mill. 
 
422 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 14101-M132. 
 
 Of Hercules tlie soveraine conquerour 
 Singen his werkes laude, and high renoun • 
 For in his time of strength he was the flour. 
 He slow and raft the skinne of the leon; 
 He of Centaures laid the host adoun ; 
 He Harpies slow, the cruel briddes felle ; 
 He golden apples raft fro the dragon ; 
 He drow out Cerberus the hound of helle. 
 
 He slow the cruel tirant Busirus, 
 And made his hors to fret him flesh and bon; 
 He slow the firy serpent venemous ; 
 Of Achelous two homes brake he on. 
 And he slow Cacus in a cave of ston ; 
 He slow the geaunt Anteus the strong ; 
 He slow the grisely bore, and that anon ; 
 And bare the hevene on his nekke long. 
 
 "Was never wight sith that the world began, 
 That slow so many monstres, as did he ; 
 Thurghout the wide world his name ran, 
 What for his strength, and for his high bountee ; 
 And every reaume^ went he for to see, 
 He was so strong that no man might him let j 
 At bothe the worldes endes, saith Trophee/ 
 In stede of boundes he a pillar set. 
 
 A lemman had this noble champion, 
 That highte Deianire, as fresh as May ; 
 And as thise clerkes maken mention, 
 She hath him sent a sherte fresh and gay: 
 Alas ! this sherte, alas and wala wa ! 
 Evenimed was sotilly withalle, 
 That or that he had wered it half a day, 
 It made his flesh all from his bones falle. 
 
 1 Kingdom. 
 2 "It occurred to me that this reference might possibly be to the 
 original of the Troilus and Creseide, which, according to Lydgate, was 
 called Trophe. (See the n. on p. 389, 1. 24, in page 514, ed. 4to.) 
 But I cannot find any such passage, as is here quoted, in the Filostrato:* 
 — TyrwJiitt. I know not who can be the author alluded io. 
 
 m 
 
14133-14164, THE MONKES TALE. ^^3 
 
 But natlieles som clerkes hire excusen 
 By on, that highte Nessus, that it maked ; 
 Be as may be, I wol hire not accusen ; 
 But on his bak this sherte he wered al naked. 
 Til that his flesh was for the venim blaked ;• 
 And whan he saw non other remedie ; 
 In hote coles he hath himselven raked, 
 For with no venime deio-ned him to die. 
 
 Thus starf " this worthy mighty Hercules. 
 Lo, who may trust on fortune any throw V 
 Eor him that folweth all this world of pres, 
 Or he be ware, is oft ylaid ful lowe : 
 Ful wise is he, that can himselven knowe. 
 Beth ware, for whan that fortune list to giose. 
 Than waiteth she hire man to overthrowe 
 By swiche a way, as he wold lest suppose. 
 
 NABUCHODONOSOR. 
 
 The mighty trone, the precious tresor, 
 The glorious sceptre, and real majestee. 
 That hadde the king JSTabuchodonosor, 
 With tonge unnethes^ may descrived be. 
 He twies wan Jerusalem the citee, 
 The vessell of the temple he with him ladde; 
 At Babiloine was his soveraine see, 
 In which his glorie and his delit he hadde. 
 
 The fayrest children of the blood real 
 Of Israel he did do gelde anon, 
 And maked eche of hem to ben his thral.^ 
 Amonges other Daniel was on. 
 That was the wisest child of everich on ; 
 For he the dremes of the king expouned, 
 Wher as in Caldee clerk was ther non. 
 That wiste to what fin^ his dremes souned. 
 
 1 Blackened. 2 Died. 
 
 3 Time. 4 -yyith difficulty. 
 
 5 Servant, slave?. 6 End. 
 
424 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 14165-14200. 
 
 This proude king let make a statue of gold 
 Sixty cubites long, and seven in brede, 
 To wbich image bothe yonge and old 
 Commanded he to loute,^ and have in drede, 
 Or in a fourneis, ful of flames rede, 
 He shuld be brent, that wolde not obeye: 
 But never wold assenten to that dede 
 Daniel, ne his yonge felawes tweye. 
 
 This king of kinges proud was and elat ; 
 He wend that God, that sit in majestee, 
 Ne might him nat bereve of his estat : 
 But sodenly he lost his dignitee, 
 And like a best him semed for to be, 
 And ete hey as an oxe, and lay therout: 
 In rain with wilde bestes walked he, 
 Til certain time was ycome about. 
 
 And like an egles fethers wex his heres. 
 His neyles like a briddes elawes were, 
 Til God relesed him at certain yeres. 
 And yaf him wit, and than with many a tera 
 He thanked God, and ever his lif in fere 
 Was he to don amis, or more trespace : 
 And til that time he laid was on his here," 
 He knew that God was ful of might and grace. 
 
 BALTHASAR.2 
 
 His sone, which that highte Balthasar, 
 
 That held the regne after his fadres day, 
 
 He by his fader coude not beware, 
 
 For proude he was of herte, and of array: 
 
 And eke an ydolaster was he ay. 
 
 His high estat assured him in pride ; 
 
 But fortune cast him doun (and ther he lay) 
 
 And sodenly his regne gan devide. 
 
 A feste he made unto his lordes alle 
 Upon a time, and made hem blithe be, 
 And than his officeres gan he calle ; 
 Goth, bringeth forth the vessels, quod he, 
 
 1 Bow. 2 /. e., Belshazzar. 
 
 j; 
 
14201-11240. THE MOKKES TALE. 425 
 
 Wliicli that my fader in his prosperitee 
 Out of the temple of Jerusalem beraft, 
 ■ And to our highe goddes thanke we 
 Of honour, that our eldres with us last. 
 
 His wi:^ his lordes, and his concubines 
 Ay dronken, while hir appetites last, 
 Out of thise noble vessels sondry wines. 
 And on a wall this king his eyen cast, 
 And saw an hand armies, that wrote ful fast^ 
 Tor fere of whiche he quoke, and siked sore. 
 This hand, that Balthasar so sore agast, 
 "VYrote 3£ajie techd pharos, and no more. 
 
 In al that lond Magicien was non, 
 That coud expounen what this lettre ment, 
 But Daniel expouned it anon, 
 And said; O king, God to thy fader lent 
 Olorie and honour, regne, tresour, and rent ; 
 And he was proud, and nothing God ne dradde| 
 And therfore God gret wreche upon him sent. 
 And him beraft the regne that he hadde. 
 
 He was out cast of mannes compagnie, 
 With asses was his habitation; 
 And ete hey, as a best, in wete and drie, 
 Til that he knew by grace and by reson, 
 That God of heven hath domination 
 Over every regne, and every creature: 
 And than had God of him compassion. 
 And him restored his regne and his figure. 
 
 Eke thou, that art his sone, art proud also. 
 And knowest all thise thinges veraily ; 
 And art rebel to God, and art his fo. 
 Thou dranke eke of his vessels boldely, 
 Thy wif eke, and thy wenches sinfully 
 Dranke of the same vessels sondry wines, 
 And heried^ false goddes cursedly, 
 Therfore to thee yshapen ful gret pine is. 
 
 This hand was sent fro God, that on the wall 
 Wrote MaTie techel phares, trusteth me; 
 Thy regne is don, thou weyest nought at all ; 
 Divided is thy regne, and it shal be 
 1 Traised. 
 
426 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 14241-1 €2^ S, 
 
 To Medes and to Perses yeven, quod he. ' 
 And thilke same night this king was slawe ; 
 And Darius occupied his degree, 
 Though he therto had neither right ne la we. 
 
 Lordinges, ensample hereby moun ye take^ 
 How that in lordship is no sikernesse :^ 
 Tor whan that fortune wol a man forsake, 
 She hereth away his regne and his richesse, 
 And eke his frendes, hothe more and lesse. 
 For what man that hath frendes thurgh fortunOj, 
 Mishap wol make hem enemies, I gesse. 
 This proverbe is ful soth, and ful commune. 
 
 Zenobia, of Palmerie the queue, 
 (As writen Persiens of hire noblesse) 
 So worthy was in ai^mes, and so kene, 
 That no wight passed hire in hardinesse, 
 Ne in linage, ne in other gentillesse. 
 Of kinges blood of Perse is she descended ; 
 I say not that she hadde most fairenesse, 
 Put of hire shape she might not ben amended. 
 
 From hire childhode I finde that she fledde 
 Office of woman, and to wode she went ; 
 And many a wilde hartes blood she shedde 
 With arwes brode that she to hem sent ; 
 She was so swift, that she anon hem hent. 
 And whan that she was elder, she wold kille 
 Leons, lepards, and beres al to-rent, 
 And in hire armes weld hem at hire wille. 
 
 She dorst the wilde bestes dennes seke, 
 And rennen^ in the mountaignes all the nigh^ 
 And slepo under the bush ; and she coud eke 
 "Wrastlen by veray force and veray might 
 With any yong man, were he never so wight; 
 Ther mighte nothing in hire armes stonde ; 
 She kept hire maidenhode from every wight, 
 To no man deigned hire for to be bonde. 
 ^ Security. 2 jjun about. 
 
 I 
 
Ii377-14.-316. THE MONKES TALE. 427 
 
 But at the last hire frendes han hire maried 
 To Odenate, a prince of that contree ; 
 Al were it so, that she hem longe taried. 
 And ye shul understonden, how that he 
 Hadde swiche fantasies as hadde she; 
 But natheles, whan they were knit in fere, 
 They lived in joye, and in felicitee, 
 For eche of hem had other lefe and dere. 
 
 Save o thing, that she n'olde never assente. 
 By no way, that he shulde by hire lie 
 But ones, for it was hire plaine entente 
 To have a childe, the world to multiplie : 
 And al so sone as that she might espie. 
 That she was not with childe with that ded3, 
 Than would she suffer him don his fantasie 
 Eftsone,^ and not but ones out of drede. 
 
 And if she were with child at thilke cast, 
 No more shuld he playen thilke game 
 Till fully fourty dayes weren past : 
 Than wold she ones suffre him do the same. 
 Al were this Odenate wild or tame, 
 He gate no more of hire, for thus she sayde, 
 It was to wives lecherie and shame, 
 In other eas if that men with hem playde. 
 
 Two sones by this Odenate had she, 
 The which she kept in vertue and lettrure. 
 But now unto our tale turne we: 
 I say, so worshipful a creature, 
 And wise therwith, and large with mesure, 
 So penible in the werre, and curteis eke, 
 Ne more labour might in werre endure. 
 Was non, though al this world men shulden seke, 
 
 Hire riche array ne might not be told, 
 As wel in vessell as in hire clothing: 
 She was al clad in pierrie^ and in gold, 
 And eke she lefte not for non hunting 
 To have of sondry tonges ful knowing, 
 Whan that she leiser had, and for to entend 
 To lernen bookes was all hire liking, 
 How she in vertue might hire lif dispend. 
 1 A^aiiu S Jfiwels, precious itoneii/ 
 
428 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 14317-14356. 
 
 And shortly of this storie for to trete, 
 So doughty was hu^e husbond and eke she, 
 That they conquered many regnes grete 
 In the Orient, with many a faire citee, 
 Appertenannt unto the majestee 
 Of Kome, and with strong hand held hem ful fast^ 
 Ne never might hir fomen don hem flee, 
 Ay while that Odenates dayes last. 
 
 Hire batailles, who so list hem for to rede, 
 Againe Sapor the king, and other mo, 
 And how that all this processe fell in dede, 
 Why she conquered, and what title therto. 
 And after of hire mischefe and hire wo, 
 How that she was beseged, and ytake, 
 Let him nnto my maister Fetrark go, 
 That writeth ynough of this, I undertake. 
 
 Whan Odenate was ded, she mightily 
 The regnes held, and with hire propre hond 
 Agains hire fos she fought so cruelly, 
 That ther n'as king ne prince in all that lond^, 
 That he n'as glad, if he that grace fond 
 That she ne wolde upon his lond werreye; 
 With hire they maden allia.unce by bond 
 To ben in pees, and let hire ride and pleye. 
 
 The emperour of Rome Claudius, 
 Ne, him beforn, the Eomain Galien 
 Ne dorste never be so corageous, 
 Ne non Ermin, ne non Eg"ptien, 
 Ne Surrien, ne non Arabicii 
 Within the feld ne dorste with hire fight, 
 Lest that she Avoid hem with hire hondes sle% 
 Or with hire meinie putten hem to flight. 
 
 In kinges habite wente hire sones two, 
 As heires of hir fadres regnes alle, 
 And Heremanno and Timolao 
 Hir names were, as Persiens hem calle. 
 But ay fortune hath in hire hony galle : 
 This mighty queue may no while endure, 
 Fortune out of hire regne made hire falle 
 To wretchednesse, and to misaventure. 
 
 Ji 
 
14357-14393. THE MCNKES TALE. 429 
 
 Aurelian, whan that the governance 
 Of Rome came into his hondes twey, 
 He shope upon this quene to do vengeance, 
 And with his legions he toke his way 
 Toward Zenobie, and shortly for to say, 
 He made hire flee, and atte last hire hent, 
 And fettred hire, and eke hire children tway, 
 And wan the lond, and home to Eome he went. 
 
 Amonges other thinges that he wan, 
 Hire char, that was with gold wrought and pierrie, 
 This grete Eomain, this Anrelian 
 Hath with him lad, for that men shnld it see. 
 Beforen his triumphe walketh she 
 *With gilte chaines on hire necke honging, 
 Cronned she was, as after hire degree. 
 And ful of pierrie charged hire clothing. 
 
 Alas fortune ! she that whilom was 
 Predeful to kinges and to emperoures, 
 Now gaureth^ all the peple on hire, alas! 
 And she that helmed was in starke stoures,^ 
 And wan by force tonnes stronge and toures, 
 Shal on hire hed now were a vitremite :^ 
 And she that bare the sceptre ful of floures, 
 tShal here a distaf hire cost for to quite. 
 
 Although that Nero were as vicious, 
 As any fend, that lith ful low adoun, 
 Yet he, as telleth us Suetonius, 
 This wide world had in subjectioun, 
 Both Est and West, South and Septentrioun.^ 
 Of rubies, saphires, and of perles white 
 "Were all his clothes brouded up and doun, 
 For he in gemmes gretly gan delite. 
 
 More delicat, more pompous of array, 
 More proude, was never emperour than he; 
 That ilke cloth that he had wered o day, 
 After that time he n'olde it never see ; 
 
 1 Gazeth. 2 Battles, 
 
 3 What this means Tyrwhitt cannot tell. , ^ Korth. 
 
430 THE CANTEKBURY TAI^ES. 14393-U43S8. 
 
 Nettes of gold threde had he gret plentee, 
 To fish in Tiber, whan him list to play; 
 His lustes were as law, in his degree, 
 For fortune as his frend wold him obay. 
 
 He Eome brente for his delicacie; 
 The senatours he slow npon a day, 
 To heren how that men wold wepe and crie ; 
 And slow his brother, and by his suster lay. 
 His moder made he in pitous array 
 "For he hire wombe let slitten, to behold 
 Wher he conceived was, so wala wa ! 
 That he so litel of his moder told. 
 
 No tere out of his eyen for that sight , 
 
 Ne came, but sayd, a faire woman was she. 
 Gret wonder is, how that he coud or might 
 Be domesman^ of hire dede beautee : 
 The wine to bringen him commanded he, 
 And dranke anon, non other wo he made. 
 Whan might is joined unto crueltee, 
 Alas ! to depe wol the venime wade. 
 
 In youthe a maister had this emperoup 
 To techen him lettrure and curtesie, • 
 For of moralitee he was the flour, 
 As in his time, but if bookes lie. 
 And while this maister had of him maistrie^ 
 He maked him so conning and so souple, 
 That longe time it was, or tyrannie, 
 Or any vice dorst in him uncouple. 
 
 This Seneka, of which that I devise. 
 Because Nero had of him swiche drede, 
 For he fro vices wold him ay chastise 
 Discretly, as by word, and not by dede. 
 Sire, he wold say, an emperour mote nede 
 Be vertuous, and haten tyrannie. 
 For which he made him in a bathe to blede 
 On^ bothe his armes, till he muste die. 
 
 This Nero had eke of a custumaunce 
 In youth ageins his maister for to rise ; 
 Which afterward him thought a gret grevaunce, 
 Therfore he made him dien in this wise. 
 *i Judge. 2 From. 
 
14433-1 4'1G8. THE MONKES TALE. 431 
 
 But natheles this Seneka the wise 
 Chees in a bathe to die in this manere, 
 Bather than han another turmentise : 
 And thus hath Nero slain his maister dere. 
 
 Now fell it so, that fortune list no lenger 
 The highe pride of Nero to cherice : 
 Eor though that he were strong, yet was she strenger,. 
 She thoughte thus ; by God I am to nice 
 To set a man, that is fulfilled of vice, 
 In high degree, and emperour him calle 
 By God out of his sete I wol him trice,^ 
 Whan he lest weneth, sonest shal he falle. 
 
 The peple rose uj)on him on a night 
 For his defaute, and whan he it espied, 
 Out of his dores anon he hath him ^ight 
 Alone, and ther he wend han ben allied. 
 He knocked fast, and ay the more he cried, 
 The faster shetten they hir dores alle : 
 Tho wist he wel he had himself misgied,2 
 And went his way, no lenger dorst he calle. 
 
 The peple cried and rombled up and doun, 
 That with his eres herd he how they sayde, 
 Wher is this false tyrant, this Neroun ? 
 For fere almost out of his wit he brayde, 
 And to his goddes pitously he j)reide 
 For socour, but it mighte not betide : 
 For drede of this him thoughte that he deide^ 
 And ran into a gardin him to hide. 
 
 And in this gardin fond he cherles tweye 
 That saten by a fire gret and red, 
 And to thise cherles two he gan to preye 
 To slen him, and to girden of his hed. 
 That to his body, whan that he were ded, 
 Were no despit ydon for his defame. 
 Himself he slow, he coud no better rede, 
 Of which fortune lough^ and hadde a game. 
 
 1 Thrust. 2 3Iisguided. * Laughed, 
 
 37 
 
432 THE CANTERBUHY TALES. 14469-14500* 
 
 HOLOFERNES. 
 
 Was never capitaine under a king, 
 That regnes mo put in sabjectioun, 
 Ne strenger was in feld of alle thing 
 As in his time, ne greter of renoun, 
 Ne more pompous in high presumptioun, 
 Than Holoferne, which that fortune ay kist 
 So likerously, and lad him up and doun, 
 Til that his hed was of, or that he wist. 
 
 Not only that this world had him in awe 
 
 For lesing of richesse and libertee ; 
 
 But he made every man reneie^ his lawe. 
 
 Nabuchodonc^or was God, sayd he ; 
 
 Non other God ne shulde honoured be. 
 
 Ageins his heste ther dare no wight trespace^ 
 
 Save in Bethulia, a strong citee, 
 
 "Wher Eliachim a preest was of that place. 
 
 But take kepe of the deth of Holoferne : 
 Amid his host he dronken lay a night 
 Within his tente, large as is a berne ; 
 And yet for all his pompe and all his might, 
 Judith, a woman, as he lay upright 
 Sleping, his hed of smote, and fro his tente 
 Ful prively she stale from every wight. 
 And with his hed unto hu-e toun she wentQo 
 
 What nedeth it of king Antiochus 
 To tell his high and reaP majestee, 
 His gret pride, and his werkes venimous ? 
 Tor swiche another was ther non as he ; 
 Eedeth what that he was in Machabe. 
 And redeth the proud wordes that he seidj 
 And why he fell from his prosperitee. 
 And in an hill how wretchedly he deid. 
 
 A Eenounce. 2 Eoya!. 
 
01-14540. THE MONKES TALE. 433 
 
 Fortune Mm had enhaunsed so in pride 
 That veraily he wend he might attaine 
 Unto the sterres upon every side, 
 And in a balaunce weyen eche mountaine, 
 And all the floodes of the see restreine : 
 And Goddes peple had he most in hate, 
 Hem wold he sleen in turment and in peine, 
 "Wening that God ne might his pride abate. 
 
 And for that Nichanor and Timothee 
 "With Jewes were venquished mightily, 
 Unto the Jewes swiche an hate had he, 
 That he bad greithe his char^ ful hastily, 
 And swore and sayde ful despitously, 
 Unto Jerusalem he wold eftsone 
 To wreke his ire on it ful cruelly, 
 But of his purpos was he let ful sone. 
 
 God for his manace him so sore smote, 
 With invisible wound, ay incurable. 
 That in his guttes carfe it so and bote,^ 
 Til thatte his peines weren importable ; 
 And certainly the wreche^ was resonable, 
 For many a mannes guttes did he peine ; 
 But from his purpos, cursed and damnable, 
 For all his smerte, he n'olde him not restreine s 
 
 But bade anon apparailen his host. 
 And sodenly, or he was of it ware, 
 God daunted all his pride, and all his bost ; 
 For he so sore fell out of his chare, 
 That it his limmes and his skinne to-tare, 
 So that he neither mighte go ne ride; 
 But in a chaiere men about him bare, 
 Alle forbrused bothe bak and side. 
 
 The wreche of God him smote so cruelly, 
 That thurgh his body wicked wormes crept, 
 And therwithal he stanke so horribly. 
 That non of all his meinie that him kept, 
 "Whether so that he woke or elles he slept, 
 Ne mighte not of him the stinke endure. 
 In this mischiefe he wailed and eke wept, 
 And knew God, Lord of every creature. 
 1 Make ready his chariot. 
 2 It tore and bit. 3 Kevenge. 
 
434 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 14541-14576. 
 
 To all his host, and to himself also 
 Tul wlatsom^ was the stinke of his careine ; 
 No man ne mighte him beren to ne fro. 
 And in this stinke, and this horrible peine. 
 He starf 2 ful wretchedly in a mountaine. 
 Thus hath this robbour, and this homicide. 
 That many a man made to wepe and pleine, 
 Swiche guerdon, as belongeth unto pride. 
 
 ALEXANDER. 
 
 The stone of Alexandre is so commune. 
 That every wight, that hath discretioun, 
 Hath herd somwhat or all of his fortune. 
 This wide world, as in conclusioun, 
 He wan by strength, or for his high renoun 
 They weren glad for pees unto him sende. 
 The pride of man and bost he layd adoun, 
 Wher so he came, unto the worldes ende. 
 
 Comparison might never yet be maked 
 Betwix him and another conquerour, 
 For al this world for drede of him hath quaked j 
 He was of knighthode and of fredome flour ; 
 Fortune him maked the heir of hire honour. 
 Save wine and women, nothing might asswage 
 His high entente in armes and labour. 
 So was he ful of leonin corage. 
 
 What pris were it to him, though I you told 
 Of Darius, and an hundred thousand mo, 
 Of kinges, princes, dukes, erles bold, 
 Which he conquered, and brought hem into wo 'I 
 I ?ay, as fer as man may ride or go 
 The world was his, what shuld I more devise ? 
 For though I wrote or told you ever mo 
 Of his knighthode, it mighte not suffice. 
 
 Twelf yere he regned, as saith Machabe ; 
 Philippus sone of Macedoine he was, 
 That first was king in Grece the contree. 
 O worthy gentil Alexandre, alas 
 
 Loathsome. 2 pied. 
 
14577-14612. THE MONKES TALE. 435 
 
 That ever shuld tliee fallen swiclie a cas ! 
 Enpoisoned of thj^'n owen folke thou were | 
 Thy sis^ fortune hath turned into an as, 
 And yet for thee ne wept she never a tere. 
 
 Who shal me yeven teres to complaine 
 The deth of gentillesse, and of fraunchise,^ 
 That all this world welded in his demaine, 
 And yet him thought it mighte not sufl&ce 1 
 So ful was his corage of high emprise. 
 Alas ! who shal me helpen to endite 
 False fortune, and poison to despise 1 
 The whiche two of all this wo I wite. 
 
 JULIUS CESAR. 
 
 By wisdome, manhode, and by gret labour, 
 From humblehede to real majestee 
 Up rose he Julius the conquerour, 
 That wan all the Occident, by lond and see, 
 By strengthe of hond, or elles by tretee, 
 And unto Eome made hem tributarie ; 
 And sity of Eome the emperour was he. 
 Til that fortune wexe his adversarie. 
 
 O mighty Cesar, that in Thessalie 
 Ageins Pompeius father thin in lawe. 
 That of the orient had all the chivalrie, 
 As fer as that the day beginneth dawe, 
 Thou thurgh thy knighthode hast hem take and slawe, 
 Save fewe folk, that with Pompeius fledde, 
 Thurgh which thou put all the orient in awe, 
 Thanke fortune, that so wel thee spedde. 
 
 But now a litel while I wol bewaile 
 This Pompeius, this noble governour 
 Of Rome, which that fled at this bataille. 
 I say, on of his men, a false traitour, 
 His hed of smote, to winnen him favour 
 Of Julius, and him the hed he brought: 
 Alas, Pompeie, of the orient conquerour, 
 That fortune unto swiche a fin thee brought ! 
 
 1 /. e.y thy cast of six, the highest throw at dice, has been turned 
 into the as, the lowest. 2 Frankness. 3 gome time. 
 
43G THE CANTERBUEY TALES. 14613-14652. 
 
 To Eome again repairefh Julius 
 With his triumphe laureat ful hie, 
 But on a time Brutus and Cassius, 
 That ever had of his high estat envie, 
 Ful prively had made conspiracie 
 Ageins this Julius in sotil wise : 
 And cast the place, in which he shulde di© 
 With bodekins, as I shal you devise. 
 
 This Julius to the capitolie wente 
 Upon a day, as he was wont to gon. 
 And in the capitolie anon him hente 
 This false Brutus, and his other foon. 
 And stiked him with bodekins anon 
 With many a wound, and thus they let him lies 
 But never gront^ he at no stroke but on, 
 Or elles at two, but if his storie lie. 
 
 So manly was this Julius of herte, 
 And so wel loved estatly honestee, 
 That though his dedly woundes sore smerte. 
 His mantel over his hippes caste he, 
 For no man shulde seen his privetee : 
 And as he lay of dying in a trance, 
 And wiste veraily that ded was he, 
 Of honestee yet had he remembrance. 
 
 Lucan, to thee this, storie I recommende. 
 And to Sueton, and Valerie also, 
 That of this storie writen word and ende s 
 How that to thise gret conqueroures two 
 Fortune was first a frend, and sith a fo. 
 No man ne trust upon hire favour long, 
 But have hire in await for evermo ; 
 Witnesse on all thise conqueroures strong. 
 
 The riche Cresus, whilom king of Lide 
 Of whiche Cresus, Cirus sore him dradde, 
 Yet was he caught amiddes all his pride, 
 And to be brent men to the fire him ladde : 
 But swiche a rain doun from the welkeu shadde. 
 That slow^ the fire, and made to him escape 
 But to beware no grace yet he hadde. 
 Til fortune on the galwes made him gape. 
 1 Groaned. 2 Slew, put out. 
 
14G53-14693. THE MONKES TALE. 437 
 
 Wlian lie escaped was, he can not stint 
 For to beginne a newe werre again : 
 He wened wel, for that fortune him sent 
 Swiche hap, that he escaj)ed thurgh the rain, 
 That of his foos he mighte not be slain ; 
 And eke a sweven^ upon a night he mette, 
 Of which he was so proud, and eke so fain, 
 That in vengeance he all his herte sette. 
 
 Upon a tree he was, as that him thought, 
 Ther Jupiter him wesshe, both bak and side ; 
 And Phebus eke a faire towail him brought 
 To drie him with, and therfore wex his pride. 
 And to his doughter that stood him beside. 
 Which that he knew in high science habound, 
 He bad hire tell him what it signified, 
 And she his dreme began right thus expound. 
 
 The tree (quod she) the galwes is to mene, 
 And Jupiter betokeneth snow and rain. 
 And Phebus with his towail clere and clene, 
 Tho ben the sonnes stremes, soth to sain : 
 Thou shalt anhauged be, fader, certain; 
 Rain shal thee wash, and sonne shal thee drie. 
 Thus warned him ful plat and eke ful plain 
 His doughter, which that called was Phaiiie. 
 
 Anhanged was Cresus the proude king, 
 His real trone might him not availle : 
 Tragedie is non other maner thing, 
 Ne can in singing crien ne bewaile, 
 But for that fortune all day wol assaille 
 With unware^ stroke the regnes that ben proude: 
 For whan men trusten hire, than wol she faille, 
 And cover hire bright face with a cloude. 
 
 PETER OF SPAINE. 
 
 O noble, o worthy Petro, glorie of Spaine, 
 Whom fortune held so high in majestee, 
 Wel oughten men thy pitous deth comj^laine. 
 Out of thy lond thy brother made thee flee, 
 And after at a sege by sotiltee 
 Thou were betraied, and lad unto his tent, 
 Wher as he with his owen hond slow thee. 
 Succeeding in thy regne and in thy rent. 
 
 1 Dream. 2 Unexpected. 
 
438 THE CANTERBURY TALES, 14G93-14712. 
 
 The feld of snow, with th'egle of blak therin, 
 Caught with the limerod,^ coloured as the glede, 
 He brewed this cursednesse, and all this sinne 
 The wicked neste was worker of this dede; 
 Not Charles Oliver," that toke ay hede 
 Of tronthe and honour, but of Armorike 
 Genilon Oliver, corrupt for mede, 
 Broughte this worthy king in swiche a brike.^ 
 
 PETRO, KING OF CYPRE.* 
 
 O worthy Petro king of Cypre also, 
 That Alexandrie wan by high maistrie, 
 Ful many an hethen wrougiitest thou ful wo 
 Of which thin owen lieges had envie: 
 And for no thing but for thy cliivalrie. 
 They in thy bed han slain thee by the morwe ; 
 Thus can fortune hire whele governe and gie, 
 And out of joye bringen men to sorwe. 
 
 BARNABO VISCOUNT.® 
 
 Of Milane grete Barnabo Yiscount, 
 God of delit, and scourge of Lumbardie, 
 Why shuld I not thin infortune account, 
 Sith in estat thou clomben were so high? 
 
 1 A twig charged with birdlime. 
 
 2 Not the Oliver of Charles (Cliarlemagne), but an Oliver of Armorica, 
 a second Genelon, or Ganelon. See ver. 13124, 15233. So this passage 
 is to be understood, which in Ed. Urr. has been changed to — Not 
 Charles, ne Oliver. — But who this Oliver of Bretagne was, whom our 
 author charges as icerker of the death of King Petro, is not so clear. 
 According to Mariana, L. xvii. c. 13, such a charge might most pro- 
 perly be brought against Bertrand du Guesclin, a Breton, afterwards 
 Constable of France ; as it was in consequence of a private treaty with 
 him, that Petro came to his tent, where he was killed by his brother 
 Henry, and partly, as some said, con ayuda de Bellran. But how he 
 should come to be called Oliver I cannot guess ; unless, perhaps, Chaucer 
 confounded him with Olivier de Clisson, another famous Breton of those 
 times, who was also Constable of France after Bertrand. Froissart 
 mentions an Olivier de Manny, nephew to Bertrand du Guesclin, as 
 receiving large rewards from King Henry; vol. 1. ch. 245, but he does 
 not represent him as particularly concerned in the death of Petro. — 
 Tyrwliitt. ^ Breach, ruin. 
 
 ^ Concerning the taking of Alexandria by this prince, and his other 
 exploits, see the note on ver. 51, and the authors there cited. He was 
 assassinated in 1369. Acad, des Ins. T. xx. p. 439. — Tyrwhilt. 
 
 5 Bernabo Visconti, Duke of Milan, was deposed ,by his nephew, and 
 thrown into prison, where he died in 13S5. — Tyru-MU. 
 
14713-14748. THE MONKES TALE. 431) 
 
 Thy brotliers sone, that was thy double allie, 
 For he thy nevew was, and sone in lawe, 
 Within his prison made he thee to die, 
 But why, ne how, n'ot I that thou were slawe. 
 
 HUGELIN OF PISE.^ 
 
 Of the erl Hugelin of Pise the langour^ 
 Ther may no tonge tellen for pitee. 
 But litel out of Pise stant a tour. 
 In whiche tour in prison yput was he, 
 And with him ben his litel children three, 
 The eldest scarsely five yere was of age : 
 Alas ! fortune, it was gret crueltee 
 Swiche briddes for to put in swiche a cage. 
 
 Dampned was he to die in that prison, 
 For Eoger, which that bishop was of Pise, 
 Had on him made a false suggestion, 
 Thurgh which the peple gan upon him rise. 
 And put him in prison, in swiche a wise, 
 As ye han herd ; and mete and drinke he had 
 So smale, that wel unnethe it may suffise, 
 And therwithal it was ful poure and bad. 
 
 And on a day befell, that in that houre, 
 "Whan that his mete wont was to be brought, 
 The gailer shette the dores of the toure ; 
 He hered it wel, but he spake right nought. 
 And in his herte anon ther fell a thought. 
 That they for hunger wolden do him dien ; 
 Alas ! quod he, alas that I was wrought ! 
 Therwith the teres fellen fro his eyen 
 
 His yonge sone, that three yere was of age, 
 Unto him said, fader, why do ye wepe ? 
 Whan will the gailer bringen our potage ? 
 Is ther no morsel bred that ye do kepe ? 
 I am so hungry, that I may not slepe. 
 jSTow wolde God that I might slepen ever. 
 Than shuld not hunger in my wombe^ crepe ; 
 Ther n'is no thing, sauf bred, that me were lever. 
 
 1 Chaucer himself has referred us to Dante for the original of tliis 
 tragedy. See Inferno, c. xxxiii. — Tynvhitt. Compare Buckley's Greal 
 Cities of the Middle Ages, art. Pisa, p. 193 sqq. 
 
 2 I. e., the slow death by starvation. 3 Belly. 
 
440 . THE CANTERBURY TALES. 14749-J.4773. 
 
 Thus day by day this childe began to crie, 
 Til in his fadres barme adoun it lay, 
 And saide ; farewel, fader, I mote die ; 
 And kist his fader, and dide the same day. 
 And whan the woful fader did it sey, 
 For wo his amies two he gan to bite, 
 And saide, alas I fortune, and wala wa! 
 Thy false whele my wo all may I wite. 
 
 His children wenden, that for hunger it was 
 That he his armes gnowe,^ and not for wo, 
 And sayden : fader, do not so, alas ! 
 But rather ete the flesh upon us two. 
 Our flesh thou yaf us, take our flesh us fro, 
 And ete ynough : right thus they to him seide. 
 And after that, within a day or two, 
 They laide hem in his lappe adoun, and deide. 
 
 Himself dispeired eke for- hunger starfL 
 Thus ended is this mighty Erl of Pise : 
 From high estat fortune away him carf. 
 Of this tragedie it ought ynough suffice; 
 Who so wol here it in a longer wise, 
 Eedeth the grete poete of Itaille, 
 That highte Dante, for he can it devise 
 - Fro point to point, not o word wol he faill*. 
 
 1 Gnawed. 
 
Ul 
 
 THE NONNES PEEESTES PROLOGUE. 
 
 14773-14804^. 
 
 Ho ! qiiod the knight, good sire, no more of this : 
 That ye han said, it right ynough ywis/ 
 And mochel more ; for litel hevinesse 
 Is right ynough to mochel folk, I gesse. 
 I say for me, it is a gret disese, 
 "Wher as men have ben in gret welth and ese, 
 To heren of hir soden fall, alas ! 
 And the contrary is joye and gret solas, 
 As whan a man hath ben in poure estat, 
 And climbeth up, and wexeth fortunat, 
 And ther abideth in prosperitee : 
 Swiche thing is giadsom, as it thinketh me, 
 And of swiche thing were goodly for to telle. 
 Ye, quod our hoste, by Seint Poules belle. 
 Ye say right soth ; this monk hath clai^ped loude : 
 He sjDake, how fortune covered with a cloude 
 I wote not what, and als- of a tragedie 
 Eight now ye herd : and parde no remedie 
 It is for to bewailen, ne complaine 
 That that is don, and als it is a paine, 
 As ye han said, to here of hevinesse. 
 Sire monk, no more of this, so God you blesse 5 
 Your tale anoyeth all this compagnie ; 
 Swiche talking is not worth a boterfiie, 
 For therin is ther no disport ne game : 
 Therfore, sire monk, dan Piers by your name, 
 I pray you hertely, tell us somwhat elles, 
 For sikerly, n'ere'^ clinking of your belles, 
 That on your bridel hange on every side, 
 By heven king, that for us alle dide, 
 I shuld er this have fallen doun for slepe, 
 Although the slough had ben never so depe: 
 
 TrtLl7, certainly. 2 Moreover, also. 
 
 3 But for the. 
 
442 THE CANTEKEUKY TALES. 14805-14832^ 
 
 Than hadde your tale all ben tolde in vain. 
 For certainly, as that thise clerkes sain, 
 "Wher as a man may have non audience, 
 Nought helpeth it to tellen his sentence. 
 And wel I wote the substance is in me, 
 If any thing shal wel reported be. 
 Sire, say somwhat of hunting,^ I you pray. 
 
 Nay, quod this Monk, I have no lust to play : 
 Now let another telle as I have told. 
 
 Than spake our hoste with rude speche and bold, 
 And sayd unto the Nonnes Freest anon, 
 Come nere, thou preest, come hither, thou Sire Johii,^ 
 Telle us swiche thing, as may our hertes glade. 
 Be blithe, although thou ride upon a jade. 
 What though thyn horse be bothe foule and lene, 
 If he wol serve thee, recke thee not a bene : 
 Loke that thyn herte be mery evermo. 
 
 Yes, hoste, quod he, so mote I ride or go, 
 But I be mery, ywis I wol be blamed. 
 And right anon his tale he hath attamed f 
 And thus he said unto us everich on, 
 This swete preest, this goodly man Sire John. 
 
 ^ 
 
 A POUEE widewe somdel stoupen in age, 
 Was whilom dwelling in a narwe cotage, 
 Beside a grove, stonding in a dale. 
 This widewe, which I tell you of my tale, 
 Sin thilke day that she was last a wif 
 In patience led a ful simple lif. 
 
 1 For the propriety of this request, see the note on ver. 166 of the 
 Monkes Character. — Tyrwh iit. 
 
 2 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 Boho Juan, a foolish John ; the French Jean, with various addi- 
 tions ; and in English, when we call a man a John, we do not mean it as a 
 title of honour. Chaucer in ver. 3708, uses Jackefool, as the Spaniards 
 do Bobo Juan, and I suppose Jack ass has the same etymology. 
 
 The title of Sire was usually given, by courtesy, to priests, both secu- 
 lar and regular Tyrwhitt. Opened, begun. 
 
14833-14864. THE NONNES PREESTES TALE. 443 
 
 For litel was hire catel and liire rente : 
 By hnsbondry of swiche as God hire sente, 
 She found hireself, and eke hire doiightren two. 
 Three large sowes had she, and no mo : 
 Three kine, and eke a sheep that highte Malle. 
 Ful sooty was hire boure, and eke hire halle, 
 In which she ete many a slender mele. 
 Of poinant sauce ne knew she never a dele. 
 No deintee morsel passed thurgh hire throte ; 
 Hire diete was accordant to hire cote. 
 Hepletion ne made hire never sike j 
 Attemjore diete was all hire physike, 
 And exercise, and hertes sufHsance. 
 The goute let^ hire nothing for to dance, 
 No apoplexie shente^ not hire hed. 
 No win ne dranke she. neyther white ne red : 
 Hire bord was served most with white and black, 
 Milk and broun bred, in which she fond no lack, 
 Seinde^ bacon, and somtime an ey^ or twey ; 
 For she was as it were a maner dey.^ 
 A yerd she had, enclosed all about 
 With stickes, and a drie diche without, 
 In which she had a cok highte Chaunteclere, 
 In all the land of crowing n'as his pere. 
 His vois was merier than the mery orgon, 
 On masse dales that in the chirches gon. 
 Wei sikerer^ was his crowing in his loge, 
 Than is a clok, or any abbey orloge.'' 
 By nature he knew eche ascentioun 
 Of the equinoctial in thilke toun ; 
 For whan degrees fiftene were ascended, 
 Than crew he, that it might not ben amended. 
 
 1 Hindered. 2 Injured. 
 
 3 Singed, frizzled. ^ Egg. 
 
 5 A kind of dey : but what a (ley was it is not easy to determine 
 precisely. It is mentioned, as tlie lastsiDecies of labourers in husbandry, 
 in the Stat. 25 Edw. III. St. i. c. 1. Qe chescun charetter, caruer, 
 chaceour des carues, bercher, porcher, deys, & tous autres servantz. — 
 And again in the Stat. 37 Edw. III. c. 14. Item qe charetters, charuers, 
 chaceours des carues, bovers, vachers, berchers, porchers, deyes, & tous 
 autres gardeins des bestes, bateurs des bleez, & toutes maneres des 
 genz d'estate de garson entendantz a husbandrie. — It probably meant 
 originally a day-labourer in general, though it may since have been used 
 to denote particularly the superintendent of a Dayerie. See Du Cange* 
 in V. Daeria. Dayeria. Dagascalci. — Tyrwhi'tt. 
 
 ^ Surer, more regular. 7 Clock, dial. 
 
444 THE CANTERBUKY TALES. 14S65"14.904- 
 
 His coml)e was redder tlian the fin corall, 
 Enbattelled, as it were a castel wall. 
 His bill was black, and as tbe jet it shone ; 
 Like asure were his legges and his tone j^ 
 His nailes whiter than the lily flour. 
 And like the burned gold was his colour. 
 
 This gentil cok had in his governance 
 Seven hennes, for to don all his plesance, 
 Which were his susters and his paramoures, 
 And wonder like to him, as of coloures. 
 Of which the fairest hewed in the throte. 
 Was clejDed faire damoselle Pertelote.^ 
 Curteis she was, discrete, and debonaire, 
 And compenable, and bare hireself so faire, 
 Sithen the day that she was sevennight old, 
 That trewelich she hath the herte in hold 
 Of Chaunteclere, loken^ in every lith -.^ 
 He loved hire so, that wel was him therwith. 
 But swiche a joye it was to here hem sing, 
 Whan that the brighte sonne gan to spring, 
 In swete accord : my lefe is fare in lond. 
 
 For thilke time, as I have imderstond, 
 Bestes and briddes couden speke and sing, 
 
 And so befell, that in a dawening, 
 As Chaunteclere among his wives alle 
 Sate on his perche, that was in the halle, 
 And next him sate his faire Pertelote, 
 This Chaunteclere gan gronen in his throte, 
 As man that in his dreme is dretched^ sore. 
 And whan that Pertelote thus herd him roro 
 She Vv^as agast, and saide, herte dere, 
 What aileth you to grone in this manere ? 
 Ye ben a veray sleper, fy for shame. 
 
 And he answered and sayde thus ; madame, 
 I pray you, that ye take it not agrefe : 
 By God me mette I was in swiche mischefe 
 Right now, that yet min herte is sore afright. 
 Now God (quod he) my sweven recche aright,^ 
 And kepe my body out of foule prisoun. 
 
 Me mette, how that I romed up and doun 
 
 ^ Toes. 2 Like our "Dame Partlet.' 
 
 3 Locked, ti^ifetly fastened. ^ Limb, 
 
 5 Troubled. c Make my dream have a good issue. 
 
14905-14944. THE NONNES PEEESTES TALE. 445 
 
 Within our yerde, wher as I saw a beste, 
 Was like an hound, and wold han made areste 
 Upon my body, and han had me ded. 
 His colour was betwix yelwe and red; 
 And tipped was his tail, and both his eres 
 With black, unlike the remenant of his heres.^ 
 His snout was smal, with glowing eyen twey: 
 Yet for his loke almost for fere I dey: 
 This caused me my groning douteles. 
 
 Avoy, quod she, fy on you herteles.^ 
 Alas ! quod she, for by that God above 
 Now han ye lost myn herte and all my love j 
 I cannot love a coward by my faith. 
 For certes, what so any woman saith, 
 We all desiren, if it mighte be, 
 To have an husbond, hardy, wise and free, 
 And secree, and non niggard ne no fool, 
 Ne him that is agast of every tool, 
 Ne non avantour^ by that God above. 
 How dorsten ye for shame say to your love, 
 That any thing might maken you aferde 1 
 Han yo no mannes herte, and han a berde ? 
 Alas ! and con ye ben agast of swevenis ?^ 
 Nothing but vanitee, god wote, in sweven is. 
 
 Swevenes^ engendren of repletions, 
 And oft of fume, and of complexions, 
 Whan humours ben to habundant in a wight. 
 Certes this dreme, which ye han met to-night, 
 Cometh of the grete superfluitee 
 Of youre rede colera parde, 
 Which causeth folk to dreden in hir dremes 
 Of arwes, and of fire with rede lemes,'' 
 Of rede bestes, that they wol hem bite. 
 Of conteke,^ and of waspes gret and lite ; 
 Eight as the humour of melancolie 
 Causeth ful many a man in slepe to crie, 
 For fere of bolles, and of beres blake,^ 
 Or elles that blake devils wol hem take. 
 
 Of other humours coud I telle also, 
 That werken many a man in slepe moch wo : 
 
 1 Hairs. 2 Fainthearted. 
 
 8 Boaster. * Dreaming. 5 Dreams. 
 
 * Flames. 7 Contention. 8 Bulls, and black bears. 
 
44:6 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 14945-14"JS4<, 
 
 But I wol passe, as ligMly as I can. 
 
 Lo Caton, wliich that was so wise a man, 
 Said he not thus ? 'Ne do no force^ of dremes. 
 
 Now, Sire, quod she, whan we flee fro the bemea,^ 
 For Goddes love, as take som laxatif : 
 Up peril of my soule, and of my lif, 
 I conseil you the best, I wol not lie, 
 That both of eoler, and of melancolie 
 Ye purge you ; and for ye shul not tarie, 
 Though in this toun be non apotecarie, 
 I shal myself two herbes techen you. 
 That shal be for your hele, and for your prow 
 And in our yerde, the herbes shall I finde, 
 The which han of hir propretee by kinde 
 To purgen you benethe, and eke above. 
 Sire, forgete not this for Goddes love ; 
 Ye ben fill colerike of complexion ; 
 "Ware that the sonne in his ascention 
 Nefinde you not replete of humours bote : 
 And if it do, I dare wel lay a grote, 
 That ye shul han a fever tertiane, 
 Or elles an ague, that may be your bane. 
 A day or two;ye shul han digestives 
 Of wormes, or ye take your laxatives, 
 Of laureole, centaurie, and fumetere. 
 Or elles of ellebor, that groweth there, 
 Of catapuce,^ or of gaitre-beries,"^ 
 Or herbe ive growmg in our yerd, that mery ^ is : 
 Picke hem right as they grow, and ete hem in. 
 Beth mery, husbond, for your fader kin ; 
 Dredeth no dreme ; I can say you no more, 
 
 Madame, quod he, grand mercy of your lore. 
 But natheles, as touching dan Caton, 
 That hath of wisdome swiche a gret renoun, 
 Though that he bade no dremes for to drede, 
 By God, men moun in olde bookes rede, 
 Of many a man, more of auctoritee 
 Than ever Caton was, so mote I the,'' 
 That all the revers^ sayn of his sentence, 
 And han wel founden by experience, 
 
 1 Have no care. 2 The perches. 3 a species of spurge. 
 
 ■* Berries of the dog-wood tree. 5 Pleasant. 
 
 • s Advice. 7 So may I thrive 8 The contrary, reverse. 
 
 Jl 
 
14985-15022. THE NONNES PREESTES TAL3. 447 
 
 That dremes ben significations 
 
 As wel of joye as tribulations, 
 
 That folk enduren in this lif present. 
 
 Ther nedeth make of this non argument ; 
 
 The verey preve sheweth it indede. 
 
 On of the gretest auctours^ that men rede, 
 Saith thus ; that whilom twey felawes wente 
 On pilgTimage in a ful good entente ; 
 And happed so, they came into a toun, 
 Wher ther was swiche a congregatioun 
 Of peple, and eke so streit of herbergage, 
 That they ne founde as moche as a cotage, 
 In which they bothe might ylogged be : 
 Wherfore they musten of necessitee, 
 As for that night, departen compagnie ; 
 And eche of hem goth to his hostelrie. 
 And toke his logging as it wolde falle. 
 
 That on of hem was logged in a stalle, 
 Far in a yerd, with oxen of the plough, 
 That other man was logged wel ynough, 
 As was his aventure, or his fortune, 
 That us governeth all, as in commune. 
 
 And so befell, that, long or it were day, 
 This man met in his bed, ther as he lay, 
 How that his felaw gan upon him calle, 
 And said, alas ! for in an oxes stalle 
 This night shal I be mordred, ther I lie. 
 Now helpe me, dere brother, or I die ; 
 In alle haste come to me, he saide. 
 
 This man out of his slepe for fere abraide f 
 But whan that he was waked of his slepe. 
 He turned him, and toke of this no kepe j 
 Him thought his dreme was but a vanitee. 
 Thus twies in his sleping dremed he. 
 
 And at the thridde time yet his felaw 
 Came, as him thought, and said, I now am slaw : 
 Behold my blody woundes, depe and wide. 
 Arise up erly, in the morwe tide, 
 
 i Authors. Cicero, de Divin. L. i. c. 27, relates this and the following 
 story ; but in a contrary order ; and with so many other differences, tho,t 
 one might be led to suspect that he was here quoted at second hand, if 
 it were not usual with Chaucer, in these stories of familiar life, to throw- 
 in a number of natural circumstances, not to be found in his original 
 authors. — Tyrwhitt. 2 Awoke. 
 
448 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 15023-150b^< 
 
 And at the "West gate of the toun (quod he) 
 
 A carte ful of donge ther shalt thou see, 
 
 In which my body is hid prively. 
 
 Do thilke carte arresten boldely. 
 
 My gold caused my mordre, soth to sain. 
 
 And told him every point how he was slain 
 
 With a ful pitous face, pale of hewe. 
 
 And trusteth wel, his dreme he found ful trewe. 
 
 For on the morwe, as sone as it was day, 
 
 To his felawes inne he toke his way : 
 
 And whan that he came to this oxes stalle, 
 
 After his felaw he began to calle. 
 
 The hosteler answered him anon. 
 And saide, Sire, your felaw is agon, 
 As sone as day he went out of the toun. 
 
 This man gan fallen in suspecioun 
 Eemembring on his dremes that he mette, 
 And forth he goth, no lenger wold he lette. 
 Unto the West gate of the toun, and fond 
 A dong carte, as it went for to dong lond, 
 That was arraied in the same wise 
 As ye han herde the dede man devise: 
 And with an hardy herte he gan to crie, 
 Vengeance and justice of this felonie: 
 My felaw mordred is this same night, 
 And in this carte he lith, gaping upright. 
 I crie out on the ministres, quod he. 
 That shulden kepe and reulen this citee : 
 Harow ! alas ! here lith my felaw slain. 
 
 What shuld I more unto this tale sain ? 
 The peple out stert, and cast the cart to groundj 
 And in the middel of the dong they found 
 The dede man, that mordred was all newe. 
 
 O blisful God, that art so good and trewe, 
 Lo, how that thou bewreyest mordre alway. 
 Mordre wol out, that see we day by day. 
 Mordre is so wlatsom^ and abhominable 
 To God, that is so just and resonable, 
 That he ne wol not suffre it hylled'^ be : 
 'Though it abide a yere, or two, or three, 
 Mordre wol out, this is my conclusioun. 
 
 And right £>non, the ministres of the toun 
 
 1 Loathsome. 2 Hidden. 
 
15065-15104^. THE N0NNE3 PBEESTES TALE. 449 
 
 Han hent the carter, and so sore him pined^ 
 And eke the hosteler so sore engined, 
 That they beknew^ hir wickednesse anon, 
 And were anhanged by the necke bon. 
 
 Here moim ye see that dremes ben to drede. 
 And certes in the same book I rede, 
 Eight in the nexte chapitre after this, 
 (I gabbe not, so have I joye and blis) 
 Two men that wold han passed over the see 
 Eor certain cause in to a fer contree, 
 If that the wind ne hadde ben contrarie, 
 That made hem in a citee for to tarie, 
 That stood ful mery npon an haven side. 
 But on a day, agein the even tide, 
 The wind gan change, and blew right as hem lest* 
 Jolif and glad they wenten to hir rest, 
 And casten hem ful erly for to saile ; 
 But to that o man fell a gret mervaile. 
 
 That on of hem in sleping as he lay, 
 He mette a wonder^ dreme, again the day : 
 Him thought a man stood by his beddes side, 
 And him commanded, that he shuld abide, 
 And said him thus ; if thou to-morwe wende, 
 Thou shalt be dreint f my tale is at an ende. 
 
 He woke, and told his felaw what he met, 
 And praied him his viage for to let,'* 
 As for that day, he prayd him for to abide. 
 
 His felaw that lay by his beddes side, 
 Gan for to laugh, and scorned him ful faste. 
 No dreme, quod he, may so my herte agaste, 
 That I wol leten for to do my thinges. 
 I sette not a straw by thy dreminges, 
 For swevens ben but vanitees and japes. 
 Men dreme al day of oules and of apes, 
 And eke of many a mase therwithal ; 
 Men dreme of thing that never was, ne shaL 
 But sith I see that thou wolt here abide, 
 And thus forslouthen wilfully thy tide,^ 
 God wot it reweth me,"^ and have good day. 
 And thus he took his leve, and went his way. 
 
 1 Confessed. 2 Strange. 
 
 3 Drowned. 4 Abandon his journey. 
 
 5 Wilfully let go thy opportunity. ^ i pity you. 
 
450 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 15105-15146. 
 
 But or that he had half his cours ysailed, 
 N'ot I not why, ne what meschance it ailed, 
 But casuelly the shippes bottom rente, 
 And ship and man under the water w^ente 
 In sight of other shippes ther heside. 
 That with him sailed at the same tide. 
 
 And therfore, faire Pertelote so dere. 
 By swiche ensamples olde maist thou lere, 
 That no man shulde be to reccheles 
 Of dremes, for I say^ thee douteles, 
 That many a dreme ful sore is for to drede. 
 
 Lo, in the lif of seint Kenelme, I rede, 
 That was Kenulphus sone, the noble king 
 Of Mereenrike, how Kenelm mette a thing. 
 A litel or he were mordred on a day, 
 His mordre in his avision he say,^ 
 His norice him expouned^ every del 
 His sweven, and bade him for to kepe him wel 
 Fro treson ; but he n'as but seven yere old, 
 And therfore litel tale hath he told 
 Of any dreme, so holy was his herte. 
 By God I hadde lever than my sherte, 
 That ye had red his legend, as have I. 
 
 Dame Pertelote, I say you trewely, 
 Macrobius, that writ the avision 
 In Affrike of the worthy Scipion, 
 Affirmeth dremes, and sayth that they ben 
 "Warning of thinges, that men after seen. 
 
 And forth ermore, I pray you loketh wel 
 In the olde Testament, of Daniel, 
 If he held dremes any vanitee. 
 
 Eede eke of Joseph, and ther shuln ye see 
 "Wher dremes ben somtime (I say not alle) 
 Warning of thinges that shuln after falle. 
 
 Loke of Egipt the king, dan Pharao, 
 His baker and his boteler also, 
 Wheder they ne felten non effect in dremes. 
 Who so wol seken actes of sondry remes,^ 
 May rede of dremes many a wonder thing. 
 
 Lo Cresus, which that was of Lydie king, 
 Mette he not that he sat upon a tree. 
 Which signified he shuld anhanged be 1 
 
 1 Tell. 2 Saw in a vision. 
 
 3 Explained. 4 Kealms. 
 
15147-15184. THE NONNES PKEESTES TALE. 451 
 
 Lo hire Andromacha,^ Hectores wif, 
 That day that Hector shulde lese his lifj 
 She dremed on the same night beforne, 
 How that the lif of Hector shukl be lorne, 
 If thilke day he went into bataille : 
 She warned him, but it might not availle; 
 He went forth for to fighteh natheles, 
 And was yshiin anon of Achilles. 
 
 But thilke tale is al to long to telle, 
 And eke it is nigh day, I may not dwelle. 
 Shortly I say, as for conclusion, 
 That I shal han of this avision 
 Adversitee : and I say forthermore, 
 That I ne tell of laxatives no store. 
 For they ben venimous, I wot it wel : 
 I hem deffie, I love hem never a del. 
 
 But let us speke of mirthe, and stmte all this ; 
 Madame Pertelote, so have I blis. 
 Of o thing God hath sent me large grace 
 For whan I see the beautee of your face, 
 Ye ben so scarlet red about your eyen, 
 It maketh all my drede for to dien^ 
 For, al so siker as In jynncipio, 
 Midier est hominis confusio. 
 (Madame, the sentence of this Latine is, 
 Woman is mannes joje and mannes blis.) 
 For whan I fele a-night your softe side, 
 Al be it that I may not on you ride. 
 For that our perche is made so narwe, alas! 
 I am so ful of joye and of solas, 
 That I deffie bothe sweven and dreme. 
 
 And with that word he flew doun fro the heme, 
 For it was day, and eke his hennes alle ; 
 And with a chuk he gan hem for to calle, 
 For he had found a corn, lay in the yerd. 
 EeaP he was, he was no more aferd ; 
 He fethered Pertelote twenty time, 
 And trade hire eke as oft, er it was prime. 
 
 1 We must not look for this dream of Andromache in Homer. Thelirst 
 author who relates it is the fictitious Dares, c. xxiv. and Chaucer very 
 probably took it from him, or from Guido de Columnis; or perhaps from 
 Benoit de Sainte More, whose Roman de Troye I believe to have been that 
 History of Dares, which Guido professes to follow, and has indeed almost 
 entirely translated. — Tynvhitt. ' Koyal. 
 
4:52 THE CAlfTEllBUEY TALES. 15185-15232. 
 
 He loketli as it were a grim leoun ; 
 And on his toos lie rometh up and doun, 
 Him deigned not to set his feet to ground : 
 He chnkketh, whan he hath a corn yfound, 
 And to him rennen than his wives alle. 
 
 Thus real, as a prince is in his halle, 
 Leve I this Chaunteciere in his pasture ; 
 And after wol I tell his aventure. 
 
 Whan that the month in which the world began, 
 That highte March, whan God first maked man, 
 Was complete, and ypassed were also, 
 Sithen March ended, thritty dayes and two, 
 Befell that Chaunteciere in all his ]3ride, 
 His seven wives walking him beside, 
 Cast up his eyen to the brighte sonne, 
 That in the signe of Taurus had yronne 
 Twenty degrees and on, and somwhat more : 
 He knew by kind, and by non other lore, 
 That it was prime, and crew with blisful steven. 
 The Sonne, he sayd, is clomben up on heven 
 Twenty degrees and on, and more ywis. 
 Madame Pertelote, my worldes blis, 
 Herkeneth thise blisful briddes how they sing, 
 And see the freshe floures how they spring ; 
 Ful is min herte of revel, and solas. 
 
 But sodenly him fell a sorweful cas ; 
 For ever the latter ende of joye is wo: 
 God wote that worldly joye is sone ago: 
 And if a rethor^ coude faire endite, 
 He in a chronicle might it saufly write, 
 As for a soveraine notabilitee. 
 
 Now every wise man let him herken me; 
 This story is al so trewe, I undertake, 
 As is the book of Launcelot du lake. 
 That women holde in ful gret reverence. 
 Now wol I turne agen to my sentence. 
 
 A col fox,^ ful of sleigh iniquitee. 
 That in the grove had wonned yeres three, . 
 
 1 A rhetorician, an orator. 
 2 Skinner interprets this a blacJdsh fox, as if it were a cole fox. Gl. Urr. 
 It is much easier to refute this intei-pretation than to assign the true one. 
 Coll appears from ver. 15389 to have been a common name for a dog. In 
 composition, it is to be taken in inalam partem, but in what precise sense 
 I cannot say. See Chaucer's H. of F. B. iii. 187. Coll-tragetour — and in 
 
15223-15253. THE NONNES PREESTES TALE. 453 
 
 By high, imagination forecast, 
 The same night thurghout the hegges brast* 
 Into the yerd, ther Chaunteclere the faire 
 Was wont, and eke his wives, to repaire : 
 And in a bedde ot wortes stille he lay, 
 Till it was passed undern- of the day. 
 Waiting his time on Chaunteclere to falle : 
 As gladly don thise homicides alle, 
 That in await Hggen to mordre men. 
 
 O false morderour, rucking in thy den I 
 O newe Scariot, newe Genelon ! 
 O false dissimulour, o Greek Sinon, 
 Tha.t broughtest Troye al utterly to sorwe ! 
 O Chaunteclere, accursed be the morwe, 
 That thou into thy yerd flew fro the bemes : 
 Thou were ful wel ywarned by thy dremes, 
 That thilke day was perilous to thee. 
 But what that God forewote^ most nedes be, 
 After the opinion of certain clerkes. 
 Witnesse on him, that any parfit clerk is, 
 That in scole is gret altercation | 
 In this matere, and gret disputison. 
 And hath ben of an hundred thousand men. 
 But I ne cannot boult it to the breu,"^ 
 As can the holy doctour Augustin, 
 Or Boece, or the bishop Bradwardin, 
 Whether that Goddes worthy foreweting 
 Streineth me nedely for to don a thing, 
 (Nedely clepe I simple necessitee) 
 Or elles if free chois be granted me 
 
 the Mirr. for Mag. Leg. of Glendour, fol. 127. b. CoIpropTief is plainly put 
 for a false, lying prophet. Hey wood has an Epigram Of coleprophet. Cent 
 vi. Ep. ?,d\ 
 
 Thy prophesy poysonly to the pricke goth: 
 Coleprophet and colepoyson thou art both. 
 And in his Proverbial Dialogues, P. i. ch. x. he has the following lines. 
 Coll under canstyk she can plaie on both hands : 
 Dissimulation well she understands. 
 I will add an allusion of our author, in the Test, of Love, B. ii. fol. 
 cecxxxiii. b, to a story of one Collo, which I cannot explain. "Busiris 
 slewe his gestes, and he was slain of Hercules his geste. Hugest betray- 
 shed many men, and of Collo was he betrayed " — Tyrwhitt. 
 1 Burst. 2 iiie third hour, nine o'clock. 
 
 3 Foreknew, predestined. 
 '* Sift it to the bran, i, e., probe the truth thoroughly. 
 
454 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 15353-15294 
 
 To do that same thing, or do it nought, 
 Though God forewot it, or that it was Avrought ; 
 Or if his wetiiig streineth never a del, 
 But by necessitee condicionel. 
 • I wol not han to don of swiche matere ; 
 My tale is of a cok, as ye may here, 
 That took his conseil of his wii with sorwe 
 To walken in the yerd upon the morwe, 
 That he had met the dreme, as I you told. 
 Womennes conseiles ben ful often cold ; 
 Womannes conseil brought us first to wo, 
 And made Adam fro paradis to go, 
 Ther as he was f al mery, and wel at ese. 
 But for I n'ot, to whom T might displese, 
 If I conseil of women wolde blame, ~ 
 Passe over, for I said it in my game. 
 Bede auctours, wher they trete of swiche matere, 
 And what they sayn of women ye mown here. 
 Thise ben the Cokkes wordes, and not mine ; 
 I can non harme of no woman devine. 
 
 Taire in the sond, to bath hire merily, 
 Lith Pertelote, and all hire susters by, 
 Agein the sonne, and Chaunteclere so free ' 
 Sang merier than the Mermaid in the see, 
 For Phisiologus^ sayth sikorly. 
 How that they singen wel and merily. 
 
 And so befell that as he cast his eye 
 Among the wortes on a boterflie, 
 He was ware of this fox that lay ful low. 
 Nothing ne list him thanne for to crow. 
 But cried anon cok, cok, and up he sterte. 
 As man that was sffraied in his herte. 
 For naturelly a beest desireth flee 
 Fro his contrarie, if he may it see, 
 Though he never erst had seen it vdth his eye. 
 
 This Chaunteclere, v/han he gan him espie, 
 He wold han fled, but that the fox anon 
 Said ; gentil sire, alas ! what wol ye don ] 
 Be ye afi"raid of me that am your frend 1 
 Now certes, I were worse than any fend, 
 If I to you wold harme or vilanie. 
 I n'am not come your conseil to espie. 
 
 1 Pi-obably an allusion to an old book entitled " Physiologus de naturia 
 xii. animalium." 
 
1G295-15332. THE NONNES PEEESTE3 TALE. 455 
 
 But trewely the cause of my coming 
 Was only for to herken how ye sing : 
 For trewely ye lian as mery a steven/ 
 As any angel hath, that is in heven ; 
 Therwith ye han of musike more feling, 
 Than had Boece,- or any that can sing. 
 My lord your fader (God his soule blesse) 
 And eke your moder of hire gentillesse 
 Han in myn hous yben, to my gret ese : 
 And certes, sire, ful fain wold I you plese. 
 But for men speke of singing, I wol sey, 
 So mote I brouken wel min eyen twey, 
 Save you, ne herd I never man so sing, 
 As did your fader in the morwening. 
 Certes it was of herte all that he song. 
 And for to make his vois the more strong, 
 He wold so peine him, that with both his ejen 
 He muste winke, so loud he wolde crien, 
 And stonden on his tiptoon therwithal, 
 And stretchen forth his necke long and smaL, 
 And eke he was of swiche discretion, 
 That ther n'as no man in no region, 
 That him in song or wisdom mighte passe. 
 1 have wel red in dan Burnel the asse^ 
 Among his vers, how that ther was a cok, 
 That, for a preestes sone yave him a knok 
 Upon his leg, while he was yonge and nice, 
 He made him for to lese his benefice. 
 
 1 Voice. 2 Boethius wrote an elaborate treatise " de Musica." 
 
 3 The story alluded to is in a poem of Nigel Wireker, entitled, 
 Burnellus, seu Speculum stuUorum, written in the time of Richard I. The 
 story supposes, that the priest's son, when he was to be ordained, directed 
 liis servant to call him at cock-crowing, and that the cock, whose leg he 
 liad formerly broken, having overheard this, purposely refrained from 
 crowing at his usual time; by which artifice the young man was suffered 
 to sleep till the ordination was over. 
 
 Burnell is used as a nickname for the ass in the Chester Whitsun Playes. 
 MS. ZTarZ. 2013. Seethe note on ver. 3539. In the pageant of Balaam, 
 he says- 
 Go forth, Burnell, go forth, go. 
 What ? the devil, my asse will not go. 
 and again, fol. 36. b. 
 
 Burnell, why begilest thou me ? 
 The original word was, probably, Brunell, from its brown colour ; as the 
 Fox below, ver. 153i0, is called Bussell, from his red colour, I suppose. 
 — Tyrwhitt. 
 
 39 
 
iSG THE CANTERBURY TALES. 15323-16358. 
 
 But certain ther is no comparison 
 Betwix the wisdom and discretion 
 Of youre fader, and liis snbtilitee. 
 Now singeth, sire, for Seinte Charitee, 
 Let see, can ye your fiader contrefete ? 
 
 This Chaunteclere his winges gan to bete, 
 As man that coud not his treson espie, 
 So was he ravished with his flaterie. 
 
 Alas ! ye lordes, many a false flatour 
 Is in your court, and many a losengeour,* 
 That pleseth you wel more, by my faith, 
 Than he that sothfastnesse- unto you saith, 
 Eedeth Eeclesiast of flaterie, 
 Beth ware, ye lordes, of hire trecherie. 
 
 This Chaunteclere stood high upon his toos 
 Stretching his necke, and held his eyen cloos, 
 And gan to crowen loude for the nones : 
 And dan EusseP the fox stert up at ones, 
 And by the gargat hente^* Chaunteclere, 
 And on his back toward the wood him here. 
 For yet ne was ther no man that him sued. 
 
 O destinee, that maist not ben eschued ! 
 Alas, that Chaunteclere flew fro the hemes ! 
 Alas, his wif ne raughte^ not of dremes ! 
 And on a Friday fell all this meschance. 
 
 O Yenus, that art goddesse of plesance, 
 Sin that thy servant was this Chaunteclere, 
 And in thy service did all his powere, 
 More for delit, than world to multiplie, 
 Why wolt thou sufifre him on thy day to die ? 
 
 O Gaufride,^ dere maister soverain, 
 That, whan thy worthy king Richard was slain 
 With shot, complainedest his deth so sore, 
 Why ne had I now thy science and thy lore, 
 The Friday for to chiden, as did ye ? 
 (For on a Friday sothly slain was he) 
 Than wold I shew you how that I coud plaine, 
 For Chauntecleres di^ede, and for his paine. 
 
 1 Flatterer. 2 The plain truth. 
 
 3 So called from his red colour. 
 
 4 Seized by the gorget, or throat. ^ Thought. 
 6 He alludes to a passage in the Nova Poetria of Geoifrey de Vinsauf, 
 
 published not long after the death of Eichard I. In this work the 
 
15359-15388. THE KONNES PREESTES TALE. 457 
 
 Certes swiche cry, ne lamentation 
 N'as never of ladies made, whan Ilion 
 Was wonne, and Pirrus with his streite swerd 
 Whan he had hent king Priam by the herd, 
 And slain him, (as saith us Eneidcsy 
 As maden all the hennes in the cloos. 
 Whan they had seen of Channteclere the sight. 
 But soverainly dame Pertelote shright, 
 Ful louder than did Hasdruballes wif. 
 Whan that hire husbond hadde ylost his lif, 
 And that the Eomaines hadden brent Cartage, 
 She was so ful of turment and of rage, 
 That wilfully into the fire she sterte. 
 And brent hireselven with a stedfast herte, 
 
 O woful hennes, right so criden ye, 
 As, whan that Nero brente the citee 
 Of Eome, cried the senatoures wives, 
 For that hir husbonds losten alle hir lives ; 
 Withouten gilt this Nero hath hem slain. 
 
 Now wol I turne unto my tale again. 
 The sely2 widewe, and hire doughtren two, 
 Herden thise hennes crie and maken wo, 
 And out at the dores sterten they anon, 
 And saw the fox toward the wode is gon, 
 And bare upon his back the cok away : 
 They crieden, out ! harow and wala wa ! 
 A ha the fox I and after him they ran, 
 And eke with staves many another man ; 
 
 author has not only given instructions for composing in the different 
 
 styles of Poetry, but also examples. His specimen of the plaintive kind 
 
 of composition begins thus : — 
 
 Neustria, sub clypeo regis defensa Eicardi, 
 Indefensa modo, gestu testare dolorem. 
 Exundent oculi lacrymas ; exterminet ora 
 Pallor ; connodet digitos tortura ; cruentet 
 Interiora dolor, et verberet sethera clamor : 
 Tota peris ex morte sua. Mors non fuit ejus, 
 Sed tua ; non una, sed publica mortis origo. 
 O Veneris lacrymosa dies ! o sydus amarum ! 
 Ilia dies tua nox fuit, et Venus ilia venenum, 
 Ilia dedit vulnus, &c. 
 These lines are sufficient to shew the object, and the propriety, of 
 
 Chaucer's ridicule. The whole poem is printed in Leyser's Hut, Fo. 
 
 Med.J^vi. p. S62— 078.— T7/rwhitL 
 
 1 /. e., Virgil. 2 Harmless. 
 
458 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 15389-154'2G. 
 
 Ean Colle our dogge, and Talbot, and Gerlond, 
 
 And Malkin, with hire distaf in hire hond ; 
 
 Ean cow and calf, and eke the veray hogges 
 
 So fered were for berking of the dogges, 
 
 And shouting of the men and women eke, 
 
 They ronnen so^ hem thought hir liertes breke. 
 
 They yelleden as fendes don in helle : 
 
 The dokes crieden as men wold hem quelle : 
 
 The gees for tere flewen over the trees, 
 
 Out of the hive came the swarme of bees, 
 
 So hidous was the noise, a henedicite ! 
 
 Certes he Jakke Straw,^ and his meinie, 
 
 Ne maden never shoutes half so shrille, 
 
 Whan that they wolden any Fleming kille, 
 
 As thilke day was made upon the fox. 
 
 Of bras they broughten beemes and of box, 
 
 Of horn and bone, in which they blew and pouped, 
 
 And therwithal they shriked and they houped ; 
 
 It semed, as that the heven shulde falle. 
 
 Now, goode men, I pray you herkeneth alle ; 
 Lo, how fortune turneth sodenly 
 The hope and pride eke of hire enemy. 
 This cok that lay upon the foxes bake, 
 In all his drede, unto the fox he spake, 
 And sayde ; sire, if that I were as ye. 
 Yet wolde I sayn, (as wisly God helpe me) 
 Turneth agein, ye proude cherles alle ; 
 A veray pestilence upon you falle. 
 Now am I come unto the wodes side, 
 Maugre your hed, the cok shah here abide; 
 I wol him ete in fdith, and that anon. 
 
 The fox answered, in faith it shal be dou: 
 And as he spake the word, al sodenly 
 The cok brake from his mouth deliverly. 
 And high upon a tree he flew anon. 
 
 And whan the fox saw that the cok was goii, 
 Alas ! quod he, o Chaunteclere, alas ! 
 I have (quod he) ydon to you trespas, 
 
 1 The noise made by the followers of this rebel, to which our author 
 alludes, he had probably heard himself. It is called by Walsingham, 
 p. 251, clamor horrendissimus, non similis clamoribus quos edere solent 
 homines, sed qui ultra omiiem cEstimationem superaret omnes clamores 
 \.rimanos, et maxime posset assimulari ululatibus infernalium incolarum.-^ 
 Tyrvchitt, gl. 
 
 I 
 
15437-15468. THE NONNES PREESTES TALE. 459 
 
 In as moclie as I maked you aferd, 
 
 Whan I yon hente, and brought out of your yerd ; 
 
 But, sire, I did it in no wikke entente : 
 
 Come doun, and I shal tell you what I mente. 
 
 I shal say sothe to you, God helpe me so. 
 
 Nay than, quod he, I shrewe us bothe.two. 
 And first I shrewe myself, bothe blood and bones, 
 If thou begile me oftener than ones. 
 Thou shalt no more thurgh thy flaterie 
 Do me to sing and winken with myn eye. 
 For he that winketh, whan he shulde see, 
 Al wilfully, God let him never the. 
 
 Nay, quod the fox, but God yeve him mesehance 
 That is so indiscrete of governance, 
 That jangleth, whan that he shuld hold his pees. 
 
 Lo, which it is for to be reccheles 
 And negligent, and trust on flaterie. 
 But ye that holden this tale a folie, 
 As oi a fox, or of a cok, or hen, 
 Taketh the moralitee therof, good men. 
 For Seint Poule sayth. That all that writen is^ 
 To our doctrine it is ywritten ywis. 
 Taketh the fruit, and let the chaf be stille. 
 
 Now, goode God, if that it be thy wille, 
 As sayth my Lord, so make us all good men ; 
 And bring us to thy highe blisse. Amen. 
 
 Sire Nonnes Freest, our hoste sayd anon^ 
 Yblessed be thy breche and every ston; 
 This was a mery tale of Chaunteclere. 
 But by my trouthe, if thou were seculere, 
 Thou woldest ben a tredefoule a right : 
 For if thou have corage as thou hast might, 
 Thee were nede of hennes, as I wene, 
 Ye mo than seven times seventene. 
 Se, whiche braunes hath this gentil preest. 
 So gret a necke, and swiche a large breest! 
 He loketh as a sparhauk with his eyen ; 
 Him nedeth not his colour for to dien 
 With Brasil, ne with grain of Portingale. 
 
 But, sire, fau-e falle you for your tale. 
 And after that, he with ful mery chere 
 Sayd to another, as ye shulen here. 
 
460 
 
 %llt ^mn)i ^mnn %nh. 
 
 15469-1549G. 
 
 The ministre and tlie norice unto vices, 
 
 Which that men clepe in English idelnesse, 
 
 That porter at the gate is of delices, 
 
 To eschuen, and by hire contrary hire 023press8j 
 
 That is to sain, by leful besinesse, 
 
 Wei onghte we to don al our entente, 
 
 Lest that the fend thurgh idelnesse us hente. 
 
 For he that with his thousand cordes slie 
 Continuelly us waiteth to beclappe, 
 Whan he may man in idelnesse espie, 
 He can so lightly cacche him in his trappe, 
 Til that a man be hent right by the lappe,^ 
 He n'is not ware the fend hath him in hond : 
 Wei ought us werche, and idelnesse withstond. 
 
 And though men dradden never for to die, 
 Yet see men wel by reson douteles, 
 That idelnesse is rote of slogardie, 
 Of which ther never cometh no good encrees^ 
 And see that slouthe holdeth hem in a lees,^ 
 Only to slepe, and for to ete and drinke, 
 And to devouren all that other swinke. 
 
 And for to put us from swiche idelnesse. 
 That cause is of so gret confusion, 
 I have here don my feithlul besinesse 
 After the Legende in translation 
 Eight of thy glorious lif and j^assion. 
 Thou with thy gerlond, wrought of rose and lilie, 
 Thee mene I, maid and martir Seinte Cecilie. 
 
 1 Skirt. 2 Leash. 
 
I^497-1^3L THE SECOND NONNES TALE. 4:61 
 
 And tliou, that arte floure of virgines all, 
 Of -wliom that Bernard list so wel to write, 
 To thee at my beginning first I call, 
 Thou comfort of us wretches, do me endite 
 Thy maidens deth, that 'wan thurgh hire merite 
 The eternal lif, and over the fend victorie, 
 As man may after reden in hire storie. 
 
 Thou maide and mother, doughter of thy soQ, 
 Thou well of mercy, sintul soules cure. 
 In whom that God of bohntee chees to won ; 
 Thou humble and high over every creature, 
 Thou nobledest so far forth our nature, 
 That no desdaine the maker had of kinde 
 His son in blood and flesh to clothe and winde. 
 
 Within the eloystre blisful of thy sides, 
 Toke mannes shape the eternal love and pees, 
 That of the trine compas Lord and gide is, 
 Whom erthe, and see, and heven out of relees^' 
 Ay herien ;^ and thou, virgine wemmeles,^ 
 Bare of thy body (and dweltest n?uiden pure) 
 The creatour of every creature. 
 
 Assembled is in thee magnificence 
 With mercy, goodnesse, and with swiche pitee; 
 That thou, that art the sonne of excellence, 
 Kot only helpest hem that praien thee. 
 But oftentime of thy benignitee 
 Ful freely, or that men thin helpe beseche, 
 Thou goest beforne, and art hir lives leche. 
 
 Now helpe, thou meke and blisful faire maidcj, 
 Me flemed* wretch, in this desert of galle ; 
 Thinke on the woman Cananee, that saide 
 That whelpes eten som of the cromes alie 
 That from hir Lordes table ben yfalle ; 
 And though that I, imworthy sone of Eve, 
 Be sinful, yet accepteth my beleve. 
 
 1 Without ceasing. " Praise. 
 
 » Spotless. ^ EaEished. 
 
462 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 15532-1556:9, 
 
 And for that feith is ded withouten werkes, 
 So for to -werken yeve me wit and space, 
 That I be quit from thennes^ that most derke is 
 O thou, that art so faire and ful of grace, 
 Be thau min advocat in that high place, 
 Ther as withoiiten ende is songe Osanne, 
 Thou Cristes mother, donghter dere of Anne. 
 
 And of thy light my soule in prison light. 
 That trouMed is "by the contagion 
 Of my body, and also by the wight 
 Of erthly lust, and false affection: 
 O haven of refute,^ o salvation 
 Of hem that ben in sorwe and in distresse, 
 Now help, for to my werk I wol me dresse« 
 
 Yet pray I you that reden that I write, 
 Foryeve me, that I do no diligence 
 This ilke storie subtilly to endite. 
 For both have I the wordes and sentence 
 Of him, that at the seintes reverence 
 The storie wrote, and folowed hire legendcy 
 And pray you that ye wol my werk amende* 
 
 First wol I you the name of Seinte Cecilie 
 Expoune, as men may in hire storie see; 
 It is to sayn in English, Hevens lilie, 
 For pure chastnesse of virginitee, 
 Or for she whitnesse had of honestee, 
 And grene of conscience, and of good fame 
 The swote^ savour, Lili© was hire name. 
 
 Or Cecilie is to sayn, the way to blindej, 
 For she ensample was by good teching; 
 Or elles Cecilie, as I writen iinde. 
 Is joined by a maner conjoining 
 Of heven and Lia, and here in figuring 
 The heven is set for thought of holinesse? 
 And Lia, for hire lasting besinesse. 
 
 Cecilie may eke be sayd in this manere,. 
 Wanting of blindnesse, for hire grete light 
 Of sapience, and for hire thewes^ clere. 
 
 1 Thence, i. e., from that place. 2 Eefuge. 
 
 3 Sweet. •* Manners, qualities. 
 
15570-15608. THE SECOND NONNES TALE. 463 
 
 Or elles lo, this maidens name bright 
 Of heven and Leos cometh, for which by right 
 Men might hire wel the heven ot peple ealle, 
 Ensample of good and wise werkes alle : 
 
 For Leos peple in English is to say ; 
 And right as men may in the heven see 
 The Sonne and mone, and sterres every way. 
 Bight SO men gostly, in this maiden free 
 Sawen of faith the magnanimitee, 
 And eke the clerenesse hole of sapience, 
 And sondry werkes^ bright of excellence. 
 
 And right so as thise Philosophres write, 
 That heven is swift and round, and eke brenning, 
 Eight so was faire Cecilie the white 
 rul swift and besy in every good werking, 
 And round and hole in good persevering, 
 And brenning ever in charitee ful bright: 
 JSTow have I you declared what she hight. 
 
 This maiden bright Cecile, as hire lif saith, 
 "Was come of Eomaines and of noble kind. 
 And from hire cradle fostred in the faith 
 Of Crist, and bare his Gospel in hire mind: 
 She never cesed, as I writen find, 
 Of hire prayere, and God to love and drede, 
 Beseching him to kepe hire maidenhede. 
 
 And whan this maiden shuld imtil a man 
 Ywedded be, that was ful yonge of age, 
 Which that ycleped was Valerian, 
 And day was comen of hire marriage, 
 She ful devout and humble in hire corage, 
 Under hire robe of gold, that sat ful faire, 
 Had next hire flesh yclad hire in an haire. 
 
 And while that the organs maden melodie, 
 To God alone thus in hire hert song she; 
 O Lord, my soule and eke my body gie 
 Unwemmed, lest that I confounded be. 
 And for his love that died upon the tree^ 
 Every second or thridde day she fast. 
 Ay bidding in hire orisons ful fast. 
 
46.4 THE CANTERBUEY TALES. 15 609-1 5S4X 
 
 The niglit came, and to bedde miist she goa. 
 With hire husbond, as it is the manere. 
 And prively she said to him anon ; 
 
 swete and wel beloved spouse dere, 
 Ther is a conseil, and ye wol it here, 
 Which that right fayn I wold unto you saie^^ 
 So that ye swere, ye wol it not bewraie. 
 
 Valerian gan fast unto hire swere, 
 That for no cas, ne thing that mighte be,, 
 He shulde never to non bewraien here ; 
 And than at erst thus to him saide she; 
 
 1 have an Angel which that loveth me, 
 That with gret love, wher so I wake or slepe^ 
 Is redy ay my body for to kepe ; 
 
 And if that he may felen out of drede, 
 That ye me touch or love in vilanie, 
 He right anon wol sleen you with the dede. 
 And in your youthe thus ye shulden die. 
 And if that ye in clene love me gie, 
 He wol you love as me, for your clenenesse, 
 And shew to you his joye and his brightnesses 
 
 This Valerian, corrected as God wold, 
 Answerd again, if I shal trusten thee, 
 Let me that angel seen, and him behold ; 
 And if that it a veray angel be^ 
 Than wol I don as thou hast prayed me ; 
 And it thou love another man, forsothe 
 Eight with this swerd than wol I slee yoTi botliQ, 
 
 Cecile answerd anon right in this wise; 
 If that you list, the angel shul ye see. 
 So that ye trowe on Crist, and you baptise ; 
 Goth forth to Via Apia (quod she) 
 That fro this toun ne stant but miles three. 
 And to the poure folkes that ther dwellen 
 Say hem right thus, as that I shal you tellen. 
 
 Tell hem, that I Cecile you to hem sent 
 To shewen you the good tJrban the old, 
 For secree nedes, and for good entent ; 
 And whan that ye Seint Urban han beholc^ 
 
15648-15GS5. THE SECOND NONNES TALE. 4iQ5 
 
 Tell him the wordes whiche I to yon told; 
 And whan that he hath purged yon fro sinne, 
 Than shal ye seen that angel er ye twinne.^ . 
 
 Valerian is to the place gon, 
 And right as he was taught by hire lerning. 
 He fond this holy old Urban anon 
 Among the seintes burials louting :^ 
 And he anon withouten tarying 
 Did his message, and whan that he it tolde, 
 Urban for joye his hondes gan upholde 
 
 The teres from his eyen let he Mle ; 
 Almighty Lord, o Jesu Crist, quod he, 
 Sower of chast conseil, hierde^ of us alle, 
 The fruit of thilke seed of chastitee 
 That thou hast sow in Cecile, take to thee: 
 Lo, like a besy bee withouten gile 
 Thee serveth ay thin owen thraP Ceeile. 
 
 For thilke spouse, that she toke but iiew& 
 Ful like a fiers leon, she sendeth here 
 As meke as ever was any lambe to ewe. 
 And with that word anon ther gan apere 
 An old man, clad in white clothes clere. 
 That had a book with lettres of gold in hon<^ 
 And gan beforne Valerian to stond. 
 
 Valerian, as ded, fell doun for drede, 
 Whan he him saw ; and he up hent him tho, 
 And on his book right thus he gan to rede ; 
 On Lord, on faith, on God withouten mo. 
 On Cristendom, and fader of all also 
 Aboven all, and over all every wher : 
 Thise wordes all with gold ywriten were. 
 
 Whan this was red, than said this olde mar 
 Levest thou this thing or no ? say ye or nay. 
 I leve all this thing, quod Valerian, 
 For sother^ thing than this, I dare wel say. 
 Under the heven no wight thinken may. 
 Tho vanished the olde man, he n'iste wher, 
 And pope Urban him cristened right ther. 
 
 1 Depart. ^ Kneeling. 
 
 3 Slieplierd. ■* Servant. ^ Truer. 
 
466 TEE CANTEEBXJRY TALES. 15686-15723 
 
 Valerian goth home, and fint^ Cecilie 
 Within his chambre with an angel stonder 
 This angel had of roses and of lilie 
 Corones two, the which he bare in honde, 
 And first to Cecile, as I nuderstonde, 
 He yaf that on, and after gan he take 
 That other to Valerian hire make. 
 
 With body clene, and with imwemmed- thought 
 Kepeth ay wel thise corones two, quod he, 
 From paradis to you I have hem brought, 
 Ne never mo ne shul they roten be, 
 Ne lese hir swete savour, tTusteth me, 
 Ne never wight shal seen hem with his eye. 
 But he be chaste, and hate vilanie. 
 
 And thou, Valerian, for thou so sone 
 Assentedest to good conseil, also 
 Say what thee list, and thou shalt han thy bona 
 I have a brother, quod Valerian tho. 
 That in this world I love no man so, 
 I pray you that my brother may have grace 
 To know the trouth, as I do in this place. 
 
 The angel sayd ; God liketh thy request. 
 And bothe with the palme of martirdome 
 Ye shullen come unto his blisful rest. 
 And with that word, Tiburce his brother comQo 
 And whan that he the savour undernome. 
 Which that the roses and the lilies cast, 
 Within his herte he gan to wonder fast, 
 
 And said j I wonder this time of the yere 
 Whennes that swete savour cometh so 
 Of roses and lilies, that I smelle here ; 
 For though I had hem in min hondes t\YO, 
 The savour might in me no deper go : 
 The swete smel, that in min herte I find. 
 Hath changed me all in another kind. 
 
 Valerian saide ; two corones han we 
 Snow-white and rose-red, that shinen clere^ 
 Which that thin eyen han no might to see 
 
 » Found. 2 Unblemislied, 
 
16734-157G2. THE SECOND KONNES TALE. 467 
 
 And as tlion smellest hem thiirgh. my praiere. 
 So slialt thou seen hem, leve brother dere, 
 If it so "be thou wolt withouten slouthe 
 Beleve aright^ and know the veray trouthe. 
 
 Tiburce answered ; saiest thou this to me 
 In sothnesse, or in dreme herken I this ? 
 In dremes, quod Valerian, han we be 
 Unto this time, brother min, y wis : 
 But now at erst in trouthe our dwelling is. 
 How wost thou this, quod Tiburce, in what wise ? 
 Quod Valerian ; that shal I thee devise. 
 
 The angel of God hath me the trouth ytaught. 
 Which thou shalt seen, if that thou wilt reney 
 The idoles, and be clene, and elles naught. 
 [And of the miracle of thise corones twey 
 Seint Ambrose in his preface list to sey; 
 Solempnely this noble doctour dere 
 Commendeth it, and saith in this manere. 
 
 The palme of martirdome for to receive, 
 Seinte Cecilie, fulfilled of Goddes yeft,^ 
 The world and eke hire chambre gan she weive f 
 Witnesse Tiburces and Ceciles shrift. 
 To which God of his bountee wolde shift 
 Corones two, of fioures wel smelling, 
 And made his angel hem the corones bring. 
 
 The maid hath brought thise men to blisse above | 
 The world hath wist what it is worth certain 
 Devotion of chastitee to love.] 
 Tho shewed him Cecile all open and plain. 
 That all idoles n'is but a thing in vain, 
 For they ben dombe, and therto they ben deve, 
 And charged him his idoles for to leve. 
 
 Who so that troweth not this, a best he is, 
 Quod this Tiburce, if that I shal not lie. 
 And she gan kisse his brest whan she herd this, 
 And was ful glad he coude trouth espie : 
 This day I take thee for min allie, 
 Saide this blisful faire maiden dere ; 
 And after that she said as ye may here, 
 
 1 Gift. 2 Waive. 
 
468 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 157G3-15S0O. 
 
 Lo, right so as the love of Crist (quod she) 
 Made me thy brothers wif, right in that wise 
 Anon for mine allie here take I thee, 
 Sithen that thoii wolt thin idoles despise. 
 Goth with thy brother now and thee baptise, 
 And make thee clene, so that thon maist behold 
 The angels face, of which thy brot*her told. 
 
 Tibnrce answered, and saide ; brother dere. 
 First tell me whither I shal, and to what man. 
 To whom? quod he ; come forth with goode clierCj 
 I wol thee lede unto the pope Urban. 
 To Urban? brother min Valerian, 
 Quod tho Tiburce, wilt thou me thider lede ? 
 Me thinketh that it were a wonder dede. 
 
 Ne menest thou not Urban (quod he tho) 
 That is so often damned^ to be ded, 
 And woneth in halkes^ alway to and fro, 
 And dare not ones putten forth his lied 1 
 Men shuld him brennen in a fire so red, 
 If he were found, or that men might him sj^ie. 
 And we also, to bere him compagnie. 
 
 And while we seken thilke divinitee. 
 That is yhid in heven prively, 
 Algate^ ybrent in this world shuld we be. 
 To whom Cecile answered boldely ; 
 Men mighten dreden wel and skilfully 
 This lif to lese, min owen dere brother. 
 If this were living only and non other. 
 
 But ther is better lif in other place, 
 That never shal be lost, ne drede thee nought? 
 Which Goddes sone us tolde thurgh his grace, 
 That fadres sone which alle thinges wrought ; 
 And all that wrought is with a skilful thought, 
 The gost, that from the fader gan procede. 
 Hath souled hem'* withouten any drede. 
 
 By word and by miracle he Goddes sone, 
 "Whan he was in this world, declared here. 
 That ther is other lif ther men may wone. 
 
 1 Condemiiea. 2 Dwelleth in corners, hiding-places. 
 
 8 By all means. * Endued them witli a soul. 
 
15S01-15837. THE SECOND KONNES TALE. -169 
 
 To whom answerd Tiburce ; o siister dere, 
 Ne saidest thou right now in this manere, 
 Ther n'as but o God, lord in sothfastnesse, 
 And now of three how mayst thon bere witnesso ? 
 
 That shal I tell, quod she, or that I go. 
 Eight as a man hath sapiences three, 
 Memorie, engine, and intellect also, 
 So in o being of divinitee 
 Three persones mowen ther righte wel be. 
 Tho gan she him ful besily to jDreche 
 Of Cristes sonde,^ and of his peines teche, 
 
 And many pointes of his passion ; 
 How Goddes sone in this world was withhold 
 To don mankinde pleine remission, 
 That was ybound in sinne and cares cold. 
 All this thing she unto Tiburce told. 
 And after this Tiburce in good entent. 
 With Valerian to poiDe Urban he went, 
 
 That thanked God, and with glad herte and light 
 He cristened him, and made him in that place 
 Parfite in his lerning and Goddes knight. 
 And after this Tiburce gat swiche grace, 
 That every day he saw in time and space 
 The angel of God, and every maner bone 
 That he God axed, it was sped ful sone. 
 
 It were ful hard by ordre for to sain 
 How many wonders Jesus for hem wrought. 
 But at the last, to tellen short and plain. 
 The sergeaunts of the toun of Eome hem sought^ 
 And hem before Almache the prefect brought, 
 Which hem apposed,^ and knew all hire entent, 
 And to the image of Jupiter hem sent ; 
 
 And said ; who so wol nought do sacrifice, 
 Swap^ of his bed, this is my sentence here. 
 Anon thise martyrs, that I you devise, 
 On Maximus, that was an officere 
 Of the prefectes, and his corniculere,* 
 
 1 Message, teaching, 
 
 2 Opposed, or put them to the question. 8 Strike. 
 4 Coruicularius, an officer under the Koman government. 
 
470 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 15838-15874?. 
 
 Hem hent, and whan he forth the seintes lad, 
 Himself he weiot for pitee that he had. 
 
 Whan Maximus had herd the seintes lore, 
 He gate him of the turmentoures leve, 
 And lad hem to his hous withouten more ; 
 And with hir preching, or that it were eve, 
 They gonnen fro the turmentours to reve/ 
 And fro Maxime, and fro his folk eche on 
 The false faith, to trowe in God alone. 
 
 Ceeilie came, whan it was waxen night, 
 With preestes, that hem cristened all yfere ; 
 And afterward, whan day was waxen light, 
 Ceeilie hem said with a ful stedfast chere ; 
 Now, Cristes owen knightes leve and dere. 
 Caste all away the werkes of derkenesse, 
 And armeth you in armes of brightnesse. 
 
 Ye han forsoth ydon a gret hataille ; 
 Your cours is don, your faith han ye conserverl g 
 Goth to the croune of lif that may not faille ; 
 The rightful juge, which that ye han served, 
 Shal yeve it you, as ye han it deserved. 
 And whan this thing was said, as I devise, 
 Men ledde hem forth to don the sacrifice. 
 
 But whan they weren to the place ybrongTit, 
 To tellen shortly the conclusioun. 
 They n'olde encense, ne sacrifice right nought. 
 But on hir knees they setten hem adoun, 
 With humble herte and sad devotioun. 
 And losten bothe hir hedes in the place ; 
 Hir soules wenten to the king of grace. 
 
 This Maximus, that saw this thing betide. 
 With pitous teres told it anon right, 
 That he hir soules saw to heven glide 
 With angels, ful of clerenesse and of light ; 
 And with his word converted many a wight. 
 For which Almachius did him to-bete 
 With whip of led, til he his lif gan lete, 
 
 1 Take away. 
 
 i 
 
15875-15914. THE SECOND NONNES TALE. 471 
 
 Cecile him toke, and buried him anon 
 By Tiburce and Valerian softely, 
 Within hir burying place, under the ston. 
 And after this Almachius hastily 
 Bad his ministres fetchen openly 
 Cecile, so that she might in his presence 
 Don sacrifice, and Jupiter encense. 
 
 But they converted at hire wise lore^ 
 Wepten ful sore, and yaven ful credence 
 Unto hire word, and crieden more and more ; 
 Crist, Goddes sone, withouten difference 
 Is veray God, this is all our sentence. 
 That hath so good a servant him to serve : 
 Thus with o vols we trowen- though we sterve.^ 
 
 Almachius, that herd of this doing. 
 Bad fetchen Cecile, that he might hire see: 
 And alderfirst, lo, this was his axing ; 
 What maner woman arte thou ? quod he. 
 I am a gentilwoman borne, quod she. 
 I axe thee, quod he, though it thee greve, 
 Of thy religion and of thy beleve. 
 
 Why than began your question folily, 
 Quod she, that woldest two answers conclude 
 In demand ? ye axen lewedly. 
 Almache answerd to that similitude, 
 Of whennes cometh thin answering so rude 1 
 Of whennes ? (quod she, whan that she was freined) 
 Of conscience, and of good faith unfeined. 
 
 Almachius said ; ne takest thou non hede 
 Of my jDower ? and she him answerd this ; 
 Your might (quod she) ful litel is to drede ; 
 Tor every mortal mannes power n'is 
 But like a bladder ful of wind ywis : 
 For with a nedles point, whan it is blow, 
 May all the host of it be laid ful low. 
 
 Ful wrongfully begonnest thou, (quod he) 
 And yet in wrong is al thy perseverance : 
 Wost^ thou not how our mighty princes free 
 Have thus commanded and made ordinance, 
 That every cristen wight shal han penance 
 
 ' Advice, teacliing. 2 Believe. 3 Die. "^ Knowest. 
 
472 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 15915-15951, 
 
 But if that he his Cristendome withseye. 
 And gon al quite, if he wol it reneye 1 
 
 Your princes erren, as your nolbley doth, 
 Quod tho Cecile, and with a wood sentence 
 Ye make us gilty, and it is not soth : 
 For ye that knowen wel our innocence, 
 For as moche as we don ay reverence 
 To Crist, and for we here a Cristen name, 
 Ye put on us a crime and eke a blame 
 
 But we that knowen thilke name so 
 For vertuous, we may it not withseye. 
 Almache answered ; chese on of thise two. 
 Do sacrifice, or Cristendom reneye, 
 That thou mow now escapen by that wey. 
 At which this holy blisful fayre maid 
 Gan for to laughe, and to the juge said: 
 
 juge confuse in thy nicetee, 
 Woldest thou that I reneye innocence ? 
 To maken me a wicked wight (quod she) 
 Lo, he dissimuleth here in audience, 
 
 He stareth and wodeth^ in his advertence.^ 
 To whom Almachius said ; Unsely^ wretch, 
 Ne wost thou not how far my might may stretch f 
 
 Han not our mighty princes to me yeven 
 Ya bothe power and eke auctoritee 
 To maken folk to dien or to liven ? 
 Why spekest thou so proudly than to me ? 
 I ne speke nought but stedfastly, quod she. 
 Not proudely, for I say, as for my side, 
 We haten dedly thilke vice of pride. 
 
 And if thou drede not a soth for to here. 
 Than wol I shewe al openly by right, 
 That thou hast made a ful gret lesing here. 
 Thou saist, thy princes han thee yeven might 
 Both for to slee and for to quiken a wight, 
 Thou that ne maist but only lif bereve, 
 Thou hast non other power ne no leve. 
 
 1 Kaveth. 2 Attention. 3 Unhappy. 
 
52-15991. THE SECOND NONNES TALE, 473 
 
 But thou maist sayn, thy princes han thee maked 
 Ministre of deth ; for if thou speke of mo, 
 Thou liest ; for thy power is ful naked. 
 Do way thy boldnesse, said Almachius tho, 
 And sacrifice to our goddes, er thou go. 
 I recke not what wrong that thou me proffre, 
 For I can suffre it as a philosophre. 
 
 But thilke wronges may I not endure, 
 That thou spekest of our goddes here, quod he, 
 Cecile answerd ; o nice creature, 
 Thou saidest no word sin thou spake to me, 
 That I ne knew therwith thy nicetee, 
 And that thou were in every maner wise 
 A lewed officer, a vain justice. 
 
 Ther lacketh nothing to thin utter^ eyen 
 That thou n'art blind ; for thing that we seen alle 
 That is a ston, that men may wel espien, 
 That ilke ston a god thou wolt it calle. 
 I rede thee let thin hond upon it falle, 
 And tast it wel, and ston thou shalt it find, 
 Sin that thou seest not with thin eyen blind. 
 
 It is a shame that the peple shal 
 So scornen thee, and laugh at thy folie: 
 For comunly men wot it wel over al. 
 That mighty God is in his hevens hie ; 
 And thise images, wel maist thou espie. 
 To thee ne to hemself may not profite, 
 For in effect they be not worth a mite, 
 
 Thise and swiche other wordes saide she, 
 And he wex wroth, and bade men shuld hire lede 
 Home til hire house, and in hire hous (quod he) 
 Brenne hire right in a bath, with flames rede. 
 And as he bade, right so was don the dede ; 
 For in a bathe they gonne hh-e faste shetten. 
 And night and day gret fire they under betten. 
 
 The longe night, and eke a day also, 
 For all the fire, and eke the bathes hete. 
 She sate al cold, and felt of it no wo. 
 It made hire not a drope for to swete: 
 But in that bath hke lif she muste letCt 
 1 Outer. 
 
474 THE CANTERBURY TALES. i5992-16021. 
 
 For he Almaclie, witli a ful wicke entent. 
 To sleen hire in the bath his sonde^ sent. 
 
 Three strokes in the nekke he smote hire tho 
 The turmentour, but for no maner chance 
 He mighte not smite all hire nekke atwo : 
 And for ther was that time an ordinance 
 That no man shulde don man swiche penance, 
 The fonrthe stroke to smiten, soft or sore, 
 This turmentour ne dorste do no more; 
 
 But half ded, with hire nekke ycorven ther 
 He left hire lie, and on his way is went. 
 The cristen folk, which that about hire were, 
 With shetes han the blood ful faire ylient 
 Three dayes lived she in this turment, 
 And never cesed hem the faith to teche, 
 . That she had fostred hem, she gan to preche. 
 
 And hem she yaf hire mebles and hire thing, 
 And to the pope Urban betoke hem tho. 
 And said ; I axed this of heven king, 
 To have respit three dayes and no mo. 
 To recommend to you, or that I. go, 
 Thise soules lo, and that I might do werche 
 Here of min hous perpetuellich a cherche. 
 
 Seint Urban, with his dekenes- prively 
 The body fette, and buried it by night 
 Among his other seintes honestly: 
 Hire hous the cherche of seinte Cecile hight; 
 Seint Urban halowed it, as he wel might. 
 In which unto this day in noble wise 
 JLqih don to Crist and to his seinte servise. 
 
 1 Order. 2 Deacona, 
 
475 
 THE CHANONES YEMANNES PROLOGUE 
 
 16022-16051. 
 
 Whan that tolde was tlie lif of seinte Cecile, 
 Er we had ridden fully five mile/ 
 At Boughton under blee us gan atake- 
 A man, that clothed was in clothes blake, 
 And undernethe he wered a white surplis. 
 His hakeney, which that was al pomelee grig, 
 So swatte, that it wonder was to see, 
 It semed as he had priked miles three. 
 The horse eke that his yeman rode upon, 
 So swatte, that unnethes might he gon. 
 About the peytrel stood the fome f al hie, 
 He was of fome as flecked^ as a pie. 
 A male tweifold^ on his croper lay. 
 It semed that he caried litel array, 
 Al light for sommer rode this worthy man. 
 And in my herte wondren I began 
 What that he was, til that I understode. 
 How that his cloke was sowed to his hode ; 
 For which whan I had long avised me, 
 I demed him some chanon for to be. 
 His hat heng at his back doun by a las,* 
 For he had ridden more than trot or pas, 
 He had ay priked like as he were wode. 
 A clote-lefe'^ he had laid under his hode 
 For swete, and for to kepe his hed fro hete. 
 But it was joye for to seen him swete ; 
 His forehed dropped, as a stillatorie^ 
 Were ful of plantaine or of paritorie.^ 
 And whan that he was come, he gan to crie, 
 God save (quod he) this joly compagnie 
 
 1 See a long dissertation in Tyrwiiitt's notes. 
 
 2 Overtake. 3 Sprinkled with foam. 
 * Double budget. ^ Lace. 
 
 « A leaf of the burdock. 7 £tUI. 8 Pellltory. 
 
476 THE CANTERBUEY TALES. 16052-1G093. 
 
 Fast have I priked (quod he) for your sake, 
 Because that I wolde you atake, 
 To riden in this mery compagnie. 
 
 His yeman was eke ful of curtesie, 
 And saide ; Sii^es, now in the morwe tide 
 Out of your hostelrie I saw you ride, 
 And warned here my lord and soverain, 
 Which that to riden with you is ful fain, 
 For his disport; he loveth daliance. 
 Frend, for thy warning God yeve thee good chance, 
 Than said our hoste ; certain it wolde seme 
 . Thy lord were wise, and so I may wel deme ; 
 He is ful joconde also dare I leye: 
 Can he ought tell a mery tale or tweie, 
 "With which he gladen may this compagnie ? 
 
 Who, sire ? my lord? Ye, su^e, withouten lie, 
 He can of mirth and eke of jolitee 
 Not but ynough ; also, sire, trusteth me, 
 And ye him knew al so wel as do I, 
 Ye wolden wondre how wel and craftily 
 He coude werke, and that in sondry wise. 
 He hath take on him many a gret emprise, 
 Which were ful harde for any that is here 
 To bring about, but they of him it lere.' 
 As homely as he rideth amonges you, 
 If ye him knew, it wold be for your prow:^ 
 Ye wolden not forgon his acquaintance 
 For mochel good, I dare lay in balance 
 All that I have in my possession. 
 He is a man of high discression, 
 I warne you wel, he is a passing man. 
 
 Wel, quod our hoste, I pray thee tell me than, 
 Is he a clerk, or non? tell what he is. 
 
 Nay, he is greter than a clerk ywis, 
 Saide this yeman, and in wordes fewe, 
 Hoste, of his craft somwhat I wol you she we. 
 
 I say, my lord can swiche a subtiltee, 
 (But all his craft ye moun not wete of me, 
 And somwhat help I yet to his werking) 
 That all the ground on which we ben riding 
 Till that we come to Canterbury toun, 
 He coud al clene tui^nen up so doun, 
 
 1 Learned. 2 ProGt, advantage. 
 
16094-16135. THE CHANONES YEMANNES PROLOGUE. 477 
 
 And pave it all of silver and of gold. 
 
 And whan this yeman had this tale ytolde 
 Unto our hoste, he said ; henedicite, 
 This thing is wonder mervaillous to me, 
 Sin that thy lord is of so high prudence, 
 Because of which men shulde him reverence, 
 That of his worship rekketh he so lite ; 
 His overest sloppe it is not worth a mite 
 As in effect to him, so mote I go ; 
 It is all baudy^ and to-tore- also. 
 Why is thy lord so sluttish I thee preye, 
 And is of power better cloth to beye, 
 If that his dede acorded with thy speche ? 
 Telle me that, and that I thee beseche. 
 
 Why ? quod this yeman, wherto axe ye me ? 
 God helpe me so, for he shal never ther"^ 
 (But I wol not avowen that I say, 
 And therfore kepe it secree I you pray) 
 He is to wise in faith, as I beleve. 
 Thing that is overdon, it wol not prove 
 Aright, as clerkes sain, it is a vice ; 
 Wherfore in that I hold him lewecl and nice. 
 For whan a man hath overgret a wit, 
 Ful oft him happeth to misusen it : 
 So doth my lord, and that me greveth sore. 
 God it amende, I can say now no more. 
 
 Therof no force, good yeman, quod our host. 
 Sin of the conning of thy lord thou west, 
 Telle how he doth, I pray thee hertily, 
 Sin that he is so crafty and so sly. 
 Wher dwellen ye, if it to tellen be ? 
 
 In the subarbes of a toun, quod he, 
 Lurking in hemes'* and in lanes blinde, 
 Wheras thise robbours and thise theves by kinde 
 Holden hir privee fereful residence. 
 As they that dare not shewen hir presence, 
 So faren we, if I shal say the sothe. 
 
 Yet, quod our hoste, let me talken to the j 
 Why art thou so discoloured of thy face ? 
 
 Peter, quod he, God yeve it harde grace, 
 I am so used the hote fire to blow, 
 That it hath changed my colour I trow ; 
 
 1 Dirty. 2 Torn. 
 
 3 Thrive. ■* Corners. 
 
478 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 16136-16179. 
 
 I n'am not wont in no mirroiir to prie, 
 But swinke sore, and lerne to mnltiplie. 
 We blundren ever, and poren in the fire. 
 And for all that we faille of our desire, 
 Tor ever we lacken onr conclusion. 
 To mochel folk we don illusion, 
 And borwe gold, be it a pound or two. 
 Or ten or twelve, or many sommes mo, 
 And make hem wenen at the leste wey, 
 That of a pound we connen maken twey, 
 Yet is it false ; and ay we han good hop3 
 It for to don, and after it we grope : 
 But that science is so fer us beforne. 
 We mowen not, although we had it sworne, 
 It overtake, it slit away so fast ; 
 It wol us maken beggers at the last. 
 
 While this yeman was thus in his talking, 
 This Chanon drow him nere, and herd all thing 
 Which this yeman spake, for suspecion 
 Of mennes speche ever had this Chanon: 
 For Caton sayth, that he that gilty is, 
 Demeth all thing be spoken of him ywis: 
 That was the cause, he gan so nigh him drawe 
 To his yeman, to herken all his sawe, 
 And thus he saide unto his yeman tho ; 
 Hold thou thy pees, and speke no wordes mo : 
 For if thou do, thou shalt it dere able. 
 Thou sclaundrest me here in this compagnie, 
 And eke discoverest that thou shuldest hide. 
 
 Ye, quod our hoste, tell On, what so betide ; 
 Of all his thretening recke not a mite. 
 
 In faith, quod he, no more I do but lite. 
 And wh.an this Chanon saw it wold not be, 
 But his yeman wold tell his privetee. 
 He fled away for veray sorwe and shame. 
 
 A, quod the yeman, here shal rise a game t 
 All that I can anon I wol you telle. 
 Sin he is gon ; the foule fend him quelle ; 
 For never hereafter wol I with him mete 
 For peny ne for pound, I you behete. 
 He that me broughte first unto that game, 
 Er that he die, sorwe have he and shame. 
 For it it is ernest to me by faith ; 
 That fele I wel, what that any man saith ; 
 
16180-16311. THE CHANONES YEMANNES TALE. 479 
 
 And jQt for all my smert, and all my grief. 
 For all my sorwe, labour, and meschief, 
 I coude never leva it in no wise. 
 Now wolde God my wit miglite suffice 
 To tellen all that longetli to that art ; 
 But natheles, yet wol I tellen part ; 
 Sin that my lord is gon^ I wol not spare, 
 Swiche thing as that I know, I wol declare. 
 
 With this Chanon I dwelt have seven yere, . 
 
 And of his science am I never the nere : 
 
 All that I had, I have ylost therby, 
 
 And God wot, so han many mo than I. 
 
 Ther I was wont to be right fresh and gay 
 
 Of clothing, and of other good array, 
 
 Now may I were an hose upon rain hed ; 
 
 And wher my colour was both fresh and red, 
 
 Now is it wan, and of a leden hewe ; 
 
 (Who so it useth, so shal he it rewe) 
 
 And of my swinke yet blered is min eye ; 
 
 Lo which avantage is to multij^lie ! 
 
 That sliding science hath me made so bare, 
 
 That I have no good, wher that ever I fare ; 
 
 And yet I am endetted so therby 
 
 Of gold, that I have borwed trewely. 
 
 That while I live, I shal it quiten never 5 
 
 Let every man be ware by me for ever. 
 
 What maner man that casteth him therto, 
 
 If he continue, I hold his thrift ydo ; 
 
 So help me God, therby shal he nat winne, 
 
 But empte his purse, and make his wittes thinne. 
 
 And whan he, thurgh his madnesse and folie, 
 
 Hath lost his o»wen good thurgh jupartie,^ 
 
 1 So MS. C. i. I have followed it, as it comes nearest to the true 
 original of our word jeopardie, whicli our etymologists have sadly mis- 
 taken. They deduce it from J'ai perdu, or Jeu perdu; hut I rather be- 
 lieve it to be a corruption of Jeu parti. Aj'eu parti is properly a game, 
 in which the chances are exactly even. See Froissart, v. 1. c. 234. Ila 
 41 
 
480 THE CANTERBURY TALES. lG212-lG^i9, 
 
 Than lie excitetli other folk therto, 
 
 To lese hir good as he himself hath do. 
 
 For unto shrewes joye it is and ese 
 
 To have hir felawes in peine and disese. 
 
 Thus was I ones lerned of a clerk ; 
 
 Of that no charge ; I wol speke of our werk. 
 
 Whan we be ther as we shuln exercise 
 Our elvish craft, we semen wonder wise, 
 Our termes ben so clergial and queinte. 
 I blow the fire til that myn herte feinte. 
 "What shuld I tellen eche proportion 
 Of thinges, whiche that we werchen upon. 
 As on five or six unces, may wel be, 
 Of silver, or som other quantitee ? 
 And besie me to tellen you the names, 
 As orpiment, brent bones, yren squames,* 
 That into poudre grounden ben ful smal ? 
 And in an erthen pot how put is al, 
 And salt yput in, and also pepere, 
 Beforn thise poudres that I speke of here, 
 And wel ycovered with a lampe of glas 1 
 And of moche other thing which that ther was ? 
 And of the pottes and glasses engluting,^ 
 That oi the aire might passen out no thing ? 
 And of the esy fire, and smert also, 
 Which that was made ? and of the care and wo, 
 That we had in our materes subliming. 
 And in amalgaming, and calcening 
 Of quiksilver, ycleped mercurie" crude ? 
 For all our sleightes we can not conclude. 
 Our orpiment, and sublimed mercurie, 
 Our grounden litarge eke on the porphurie, 
 Of eche of thise of unces a certain 
 Not helpeth us, our labour is in vain. 
 Ne, neyther our spirites ascentioun, 
 Ne our materes that lien al fix adoun, 
 Mown in our werking nothing us availle ; 
 For lost is all our labour and travaille, 
 
 n'estoient pas a yen, parti centre les Francois, v. ii. c. 9, si nous lea 
 voyons a jeu imrti. From hence it signifies any tiling uncertain, or 
 hazardous. In the old French poetry, the discussion of a problem, 
 where much might be said on both sides, was called a Jeu parti, fecc 
 Poesies du Roy de Navarre, Chanson xlviii. and Gloss, in V. See also Du 
 Cange iu v. Jocus partitus. — Tyrivhitt. 
 
 1 Scales. 2 stopping with clay. 
 
16250-16289. THE CHANONES YEMANNES TALE. 481 
 
 And all the cost a twenty devil way 
 Is lost also, which we upon it lay. 
 
 Ther is also ful many another thing". 
 That is unto our craft aj)perteining, 
 Though I by ordre hem nat rehersen can, 
 Because that I am a lewed^ man, 
 Yet wol I telle hem, as they come to minde, 
 Though I ne cannot set hem in hir kinde, 
 As bole armoniak, verdegrese, boras ; 
 And sondry vessels made of" erthe and glas. 
 Our urinales, and our descensories, 
 Viols, croslettes, and sublimatories, 
 Cucuribtes," and alembikes eke, 
 And other swiche gere, dere ynough a leke. 
 What nedeth it for to reherse hem alle i 
 Wateres rubifying, and bolles gaUe, 
 Arsenik, sal armoniak, and brimston ? 
 And herbes coude I tell eke many on. 
 As egremoine,^ valerian, and lunarie,^ 
 And other swiche, if that me list to tarie ; 
 Our lampes brenning bothe night and day, 
 To bring about our craft if that we may; 
 Our fourneis eke of calcination, 
 And of wateres albification, 
 Unslekked lime, chalk, and gleire of an ey,® 
 Poudres divers, ashes, dong, pisse, and cley, 
 Sered^ pokettes, sal peter, and vitriole ; 
 And divers fii'es made of wode and cole ; 
 Sal tartre, alcaly, and salt preparat, 
 And combust materes, and coagulat ; 
 Cley made with hors and marines here, and oile 
 Of tartre, alum, glas, berme,^ wort, and argoile,'^ 
 Eosalgar,^ and other materes enbibing; 
 And eke of our materes encorporing, 
 And of our silver citrination, 
 Our cementing, and fermentation, 
 Our ingottes, testes, and many thinges mo. 
 
 I wol you tell as was me taught also 
 The foure spirites, and the bodies sevene 
 By ordre, as oft I herd my lord hem nevene.^^ 
 
 1 Simple, ignorant. " Crucibles. 3 Agrimony. 
 
 4 Moon-worfc. ^ Glaire, or white of an egg. 
 
 6 Dry. 7 Yeast. 8 Potter's clay, 
 
 9 Eed arsenic ' loj^ame. 
 
482 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 16290-16331. 
 
 The firste spirit quiksilver cleped is ; 
 The second orpiment ; the thridde ywis 
 Sal armoniak, and the fourth brimston. 
 
 The bodies sevene eke, lo hem here anon, 
 Sol gold is, and Luna silver we threpe ; 
 Mars iren, Merciirie quiksilver we clepe ; 
 Saturnus led, and Jupiter is tin, 
 And Yenus coper, by my fader kin. 
 
 This cursed craft who so wol exercise. 
 He shal no good have, that him may suffice, 
 For all the good he spendeth theraboute 
 He lesen shal, therof have I no doute. 
 Who so that listeth uttren his folie. 
 Let him come forth and lernen multiplie : 
 And every man that hath ought in his cofre. 
 Let him appere, and wex a philosophre, 
 Ascaunce^ that craft is so light to lere. 
 Nay, nay, God wot, al be he monk or frere, 
 Preest or chanon, or any other wight, 
 Though he sit at his book both day and night 
 In lerning of this elvish nice lore, 
 AH is in vain, and parde mochel more 
 To lerne a lewed man this subtiltee ; 
 Tie, speke not therof, for it wol not be. 
 And conne he letterure, or conne he non. 
 As in effect, he shal finde it all on ; 
 For bothe two by my salvation 
 Concluden in multiplication 
 Ylike wel, whan they have all ydo ; 
 This is to sain, they faillen bothe two. 
 
 Yet forgate I to maken rehersaile 
 Of waters corosif, and of limaile,^ 
 And of bodies mollification, 
 And also of hir induration, 
 Giles, ablusions, metal fusible, 
 To tellen all, wold passen any bible, 
 That o wher is ; wherfore as for the best 
 Gf all thise names now wol I me rest ; 
 For as I trow, I have you told ynow 
 To reise a fend, al loke he never so row. 
 
 A, nay, let be ; the philosophres ston, 
 Elixer cleped, we seken fast eche on, 
 
 1 See Tyrwlaitt's note on vs. 7327. 2 Faings. 
 
16332-16373. THE CHANONES YEMxVNNES TALE. 483 
 
 For had we him, than "were we siker ynow ; 
 
 But unto God of heven I make avow, 
 
 For all our craft, whan we han all yclo, 
 
 And all our sleight, he wol not come us to. 
 
 He hath ymade us spenden mochel good, 
 
 For sorwe of which almost we waxen wood, 
 
 But that good hope crepeth in our herte, 
 
 Supposing ever, though we sore smerte, 
 
 To ben releved of him afterward. 
 
 Swiche supposing and hope is sharpe and hard, 
 
 I warne you wel it is to seken ever. 
 
 That future temjDS^ hath made men dissever, 
 
 In trust therof, from all tha,t ever they had.. 
 
 Yet of that art they conne not waxen sad, 
 
 For unto hem it is a bitter swete ; 
 
 So semeth it ; for ne had they but a shete 
 
 Which that they might wi^appen hem in a-niglit. 
 
 And a bratt- to walken in by day-light, 
 
 They wold hem sell, and spend it on this craft; 
 
 They conne not stinten, til no thing be laffc. 
 
 And evermore, wher ever that they gon. 
 
 Men may hem kennen by smell of brimston ; 
 
 For all the world they stinken as a gote j 
 
 Hir savour is so rammish and so hote, 
 
 That though a man a mile from hem be. 
 
 The savour wol enfect him, trusteth me. 
 
 Lo, thus by smelling and thred-bare array. 
 If that men list, this folk they knowen may. 
 And if a man wol axe hem prively, 
 Why they be clothed so unthriftily, 
 They right anon wol rounen^ in his ere. 
 And saien, if that they espied were, 
 Men wolde hem sle, because of hir science: 
 Lo, thus thise folk betraien innocence. 
 
 Passe over this, I go my tale unto. 
 Er that the pot be on the fire ydo 
 Of metals with a certain quantitee, 
 My lord hem tempereth, and no man but he ; 
 (Now he is gon, I dare say boldely) 
 For as men sain, he can don craftily ; 
 Algate I wote wel he hath swiche a name, 
 And yet iul oft he renneth in a blame ; 
 
 1 Time. 2 Coarse mantle. 3 ■Wliispep. 
 
484 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 16374-16413. 
 
 And wete ye liow 1 ful oft it falleth so, 
 The pot to-breketh, and farewel all is go. 
 Tliise metales ben of so gret violence, 
 Our walles may not make hem resistence, 
 But if they weren wrought of lime and ston ; 
 They percen so, that thurgh the wall they gon; 
 And som of hem sinke doun into the ground, 
 (Thus have we lost by times many a pound) 
 And som are scatered all the flore aboute ; 
 Som lepen into the roof withouten doute. 
 Though that the fend not in our sight him shewe, 
 I trow that he be with us, thilke shrewe, 
 In helle, wher that he is lord and sire, 
 Ne is ther no more wo, rancour, ne ire. 
 Whan that our pot is broke, as I have saydo, 
 Every man chit,^ and holt him evil apayde. 
 Som sayd it was long on the fire-making ; 
 Som sayd nay, it was long on the blowing ; 
 (Than was I ferd, for that was min office) 
 Straw, quod the thridde, ye ben lewed and nice, 
 It was not tempred as it ought to be. 
 Nay, quod the fourthe, stint and herken me ; 
 Because our fire was not made of beche, 
 That is the cause, and other non, so the iche.^ 
 I can not tell wheron it was along, 
 But wel I wot gret strif is us among. 
 What ? quod my lord, ther n'is no more to doa, 
 Of thise perils I wol beware eftsone. 
 I am right siker,^ that the pot was erased.^ 
 Be as be may, be ye no thing amased. 
 As usage is, let swepe the flore as swithe ;^ 
 Plucke up your hertes and be glad and blithe. 
 
 The muUok^ on an hepe ysweped was, 
 And on the flore yeast a canevas,' 
 And all this mullok in a sive ythrowe. 
 And sifted, and ypicked many a throwe.^ 
 
 Parde, quod on, somwhat of our metall 
 Yet is ther here, though that we have not all. 
 And though this thing mishapped hath as now, 
 Another time it may be wel ynow. 
 
 ' Chides. 2 So may I thrive. 
 
 8 Sure. * ^cm«e, broken. 
 
 G EusiTy, quicMy, 6 Dung, rubbish. 
 
 'Canvass. 8 Time. 
 
16414-161<55. THE CHANONES YEMANNES TALE. 485 
 
 We mosten put our good in aventure ; 
 A marcliant jDarcle may not ay endure, 
 Trusteth me -wel, in his prosperitee : 
 Somtime his good is drenched in the see, 
 And somtime cometh it sauf unto the lond. 
 
 Pees, quod my lord, the next time I wol fond 
 To bring our craft all in another plite, 
 And hut I do, sires, let me have the wite: 
 Ther was defaute in somwhat, wel I wote. 
 
 Another sayd, the fire was over hote. 
 But be it hote or cold, I dare say this, 
 That we concluden ever more amis : 
 We faille alway of that which we wold have, 
 And in our madnesse evermore we rave. 
 And whan we be together everich on, 
 Every man semeth a Salomon. 
 But all thing, which that shineth as the gold, 
 Ne is no gold, as I have herd it told; 
 Ne every apple that is faire at eye, 
 Ne is not good, what so men clap or crie. 
 Eight so, lo, fareth it amonges us. 
 He that semeth the wisest by Jesus 
 Is most fool, whan it cometh to the prefe ; 
 And he that semeth trewest, is a thefe. 
 That shal ye know, or that I from you wend^ 
 By that I of my tale have made an ende. 
 
 Ther was a chanon of religioun 
 Amonges us, wold enfect all a toun. 
 Though it as gret were as was Ninive, 
 Eome, Alisaundre, Troie, or other three. 
 His sleightes and his infinite falsenesse 
 Ther coude no man writen, as I gesse. 
 Though that he mighte live a thousand yere | 
 In all this world of falsenesse n'is his pere. 
 For in his termes he wol him so winde. 
 And speke his wordes in so slie a kinde, 
 Whan he comunen shal with any wight, 
 That he wol make him doten anon right,* 
 Bvit it a fend be, as himselven is. 
 Ful many a man hath he begiled er this, 
 And wol, if that he may live any while : 
 And yet men gon and riden many a mile 
 
 * Make Mm mad straightway. 
 
486 ■ THE CANTERBUEY TALES. 1645G-1648a. 
 
 Him for to soke, and have his acquaintance, 
 Not knowing of his false governance. 
 And if you lust to yeve me audience, 
 I wol it tellen here in your presence. 
 But, worshipful Chanons religious, 
 Ke demeth not that I sclander your hous, 
 Although that my tale of a Chanon be. 
 Of every order som shrew is parde : 
 And God forbede that all a cornpagnie 
 Shuld rewe a singuler mannes folie. 
 To sclander you is no thing min entent, 
 But to correcten that is mis I ment. 
 This tale was not only told for you, 
 But eke for other mo : ye wote wel how 
 That among Cristes aposteles twelve 
 Ther was no traitour but Judas himselve : 
 Than why shuld al the remenant have blame. 
 That giltles were 1 by you I say the same. 
 Save only this, if ye wol herken me, 
 If any Judas in your covent be, 
 Eemeveth him betimes, I you rede, 
 If shame or los may causen any drede. 
 And be no thing displesed I you pray, 
 But in this cas herkeneth what I say. 
 
 In London was a preest, an annuellere,^ 
 That therin dwelled hadde many a yere, 
 "Which was so plesant and so servisable 
 Unto the wif, ther as he was at table. 
 That she wold suffer him no thing to pay 
 Por borde ne clothing, went he never so gay ; 
 And spending silver had he right ynow : 
 Therof no force ; I wol proceed as now. 
 And tellen forth my tale of the Chanon, 
 That broughte this preest to confusion. 
 
 1 They were called annuelleves, not from their receiving a yearly 
 stipend, as the Gloss, explains it, but from their being employed solely 
 in singing annuals, or anniversary Masses, for the dead, without any cure 
 of souls. Seethe Stat. 3G Edw. III. c. viii. where the Chapelleins Faro- 
 chiels are distinguished from others cJiantanz anuales, et a cure des almes 
 nient entendantz. They were both to receive yearly stipends, but the 
 former was allowed to take six marks, and the latter only live. Compare 
 Stat. 2. H. v. St. 2. c. 2, where the stipend of the Ckapellein Parochiei 
 is raised to eight marks, and that of the Chapellein annueler (he is so 
 named in the statute) to seven. — TyrwMit. 
 
16490-16531. THE CHANONES YEMANNES TALE. 4S7 
 
 This false Chanon came upon a day , 
 Unto the preestes chambre, ther he lay, 
 Beseeching him to lene him a certain^ 
 Of gold, and he wold quite it him again. 
 Lene me a mark, quod he, but dayes three, 
 And at my day I wol it quiten thee. 
 And if it so be, that thou finde me false, 
 Anothei' day hang me up by the halse.^ 
 
 This preest him toke a marke, and that as swith, 
 And this Chanon him thanked often sith, 
 And toke his leve, and wente forth his wey: 
 And at the thridde day brought his money ; 
 And to the preest he toke his gold again, 
 Wherof this preest was wonder glad and fain. 
 
 Certes, quod he, nothing anoieth me 
 To lene a man a noble, or two, or three, 
 Or what thing were in my possession, 
 "Whan he so trewe is of condition, 
 That in no wise he breken wol his day: 
 To swiche a man I can never say nay. 
 
 What ? quod this Chanon, shuld I be untrewe 1 
 Nay, that were thing fallen al of the newe. 
 Trouth is a thing that I wol ever kepe 
 Unto the day in which that I shal crepe 
 Into my grave, and elles God forbede : 
 Beleveth this as siker^ as your crede. 
 God thanke I, and in good time be it sayde, 
 That ther n'as never man yet evil apayde 
 For gold ne silver that he to me lent, 
 Ne never falshede in min herte I ment. 
 
 And, sire, (quod he) now of my privetee, 
 Sin ye so goodlich have ben unto me, 
 And kithed'* to me so gret gentillesse, 
 Somwhat, to quiten with your kindenesse, 
 I wol you she we, and if you lust to lere 
 I wol you techen pleinly the manere, 
 How I can werken in philosophie. 
 Taketh good heed, ye shuln wel sen at eye, 
 That I wol do a maistrie or I go. 
 
 Ye 1 quod the preest, ye, sire, and wol ye so ? 
 Mary therof I pray you hertily. 
 
 At your com'mandement, sire, trewely, 
 1 J. e., a certain sum. 2 ]sj"eck. 
 
 3 Surely. 4 Shewn. 
 
488 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 1G532-1G573> 
 
 Quod tlie Chanon, and elles God forl)ede. 
 Lo, how this thefe coude his service hede.^ 
 
 Fill soth it is that swiche profered service 
 Stinketh, as witnessen thise olde wise ; 
 And that ful sone I wol it verifie 
 In this Chanon, rote of all trecherie, 
 That evermore delight hath and gladnesse 
 (Swiche fendly thonghtes in his herte empresse) 
 How Cristes peple he may to meschief bring. 
 God kepe ns from his false dissimuling. 
 Nought wiste this preest with whom that he delt^ 
 Ne of his harme coming nothing he felt. 
 O sely preest, o sely innocent, 
 With covetise anon thou shalt be blent ; 
 O graceles, ful blind is thy conceite, 
 Tor nothing art thou ware of the disceite, 
 Which that this fox yshapen hath to thee ; 
 His wily wrenches thou ne mayst not flee. 
 Wherfore to go to the conclusion 
 That referreth to thy confusion, 
 Unhappy man, anon I wol me hie 
 To tellen thin unwit and thy folic, 
 And eke the falsenesse of that other wretch, 
 As ferforth as that my conning wol stretch. 
 
 This Chanon was my lord, ye wolden wene ; 
 Sire hoste, in faith, and by the heven queue, 
 It was another Chanon, and not he. 
 That can an hundred part more subtiltee. 
 He hath betraied folkes many a time ; 
 Of his falsenesse it duUeth me to rime. 
 Ever whan that T speke of his falshede 
 For shame of him my chekes waxen rede ; 
 Algates they begimien for to glowe, 
 For rednesse have I non, right wel I knowe, 
 In my visage, for fumes diverse 
 Of metals, which ye have herd me reherse, 
 Consumed han and wasted my rednesse. 
 Now take hede of this Chanons cursednesse. 
 
 Sire, quod the Chanon, let your yeman gon 
 For quiksilver, that we it had anon ; 
 And let him, bringen unces two or three ; 
 And whan he cometh, as faste shul ye see 
 
 I Offer. 
 
10574-16615. THE CHANONES YEMANNES TALE. 489 
 
 A wonder tiling, which ye saw never er this, . 
 
 Sire, quod the preest, it shal be don ywis. 
 He bad his servant fetchen him this thing, 
 And he al redy was at his bidding, 
 And went him forth, and came anon again 
 With this quiksilver, shortly for to sain. 
 And toke thise nnces three to the Chanoun; 
 And he hem laide wel and faire adoun. 
 And bad the servant coles for to bring, 
 That he anon might go to his werking. 
 
 The coles right anon weren yfet. 
 And this Chanon toke out a crosselet 
 Of his bosome, and shewed it to the preest. 
 This instrument, quod he, which that thou seest; 
 Take in thyn hond, and put thyself theriu 
 Of this quiksilver an uuce, and here begin 
 In the name of Crist to wex a |)hilosophre. 
 Ther be ful fewe, which that I wolde profre 
 To shewen hem thus muche of my science : 
 For here shul ye see by experience, 
 That this quiksilver I wol mortifie. 
 Bight in your sight anon withouten lie. 
 And make it as good silver and as fine. 
 As ther is any in your purse or mine. 
 Or elles wher ; and make it malliable ; 
 And elles holdeth me false and unable 
 Amonges folk for ever to appere. 
 
 I have a ponder here that cost me dere, 
 Shal make all good, for it is cause of all 
 My conning, which that I you shewen shall. 
 Voideth your man, and let him be therout ; 
 And shet the dore, while we ben about 
 Our privetee, that no man us espie, 
 "While that we werke in this philoso23hie. 
 
 All, as he bade, fulfilled was in dede. 
 This ilke servant anon right out yede, 
 And his maister shette the dore anon, 
 And to hir labour spedily they gon. 
 
 This i)reest at this cursed Chanons bidding, 
 Upon the fire anon he set this thing, 
 And blew the fire, and besied him ful fast. 
 And this Chanon into the crosselet^ cast 
 
 i Crucible. 
 
490 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 1G616-16657. 
 
 A pouder, n'ot I never wlierof it was 
 
 Yniade, other of chalk, other of glas, 
 
 Or somwhat elles, was not worth a flie, 
 
 To blhiden with this preest ; and bade him hie 
 
 The coles for to coiichen all above 
 
 The crosselet ; for in tokening I thee love 
 
 (Quod this Chanon) thine owen hondes two 
 
 Shal werken all thing which that here is do. 
 
 Grand mercy ^ qnod the preest, and was ful glad, 
 And couched^ the coles as the Chanon bad. 
 And while he besy was, this fendly wretch. 
 This false Chanon (the foule fend him fetch) 
 Out of his bosom toke a bechen cole, 
 In which ful subtilly was made an hole, 
 And therin put was of silver limaile" 
 An unce, and stopped was withouten faile 
 The hole with wax, to kepe the limaile in. 
 
 And understandeth, that this false gin 
 Was not made ther, but it was made before 5 
 And other thinges I shal tell you more 
 Hereafterward, which that he with him brought % 
 Er he came ther, him to begile he thought, 
 And so he did, or that they went atwin : 
 Til he had torned him, coud he not blin.^ 
 It dulleth me, whan that I of him speke; 
 On his falshede fain wold I me awreke, 
 If I wist how, but he is here and ther, 
 He is so variaunt, he abit no wher. 
 
 But taketh hede, sires, now for Goddes love. 
 He toke his cole, of which I spake above^ 
 And in his hond he bare it prively, 
 And whiles the preest couched besily 
 The coles, as I tolde you er this, 
 This Chanon sayde; trend, ye don amis; 
 This is not couched as it ought to be. 
 But sone I shal amenden it, quod he. 
 Now let me meddle therwith but a while, 
 Tor of you have I pitee by Seint Gile. 
 Ye ben right hot, I see wel how ye swete ; 
 Have here a cloth and wipe away the wete. 
 
 And whiles that the preest wijDed his face, 
 This Chanon toke his cole, with sory grace, 
 
 1 Laid. 2 Filings. 3 Cease. 
 
16653-16699. THE CIIANONES YE3IANNES TALE. 491 
 
 And laied it above on tlie midward 
 
 Of the crosselet, and blew wel afterward, 
 
 Til that the coles gonnen fast to bren. 
 
 jSTow yeve iis drinke, qiiod this Clianon then, 
 As swithe all shal be wel, I undertake. 
 Sitte we donn, and let lis mery make. 
 And whanne that this Chanones bechen cole 
 Was brent, all the limaile out of the hole 
 Into the crosselet anon fell adoun ; 
 And so it niuste nedes by resoun, 
 Sin it above so even couched was ; 
 But therof wist the preest nothing, alas t 
 He demed all the coles ylike good, 
 Tor of the sleight he nothing understood. 
 
 And whan this Alkymistre saw his time, 
 Eisetli up, sire preest, quod he, and stondeth by me; 
 And for I wote wel ingot have ye non, 
 Goth, walketh forth, and bringeth a chalk ston; 
 Tor I wol make it of the same shap, 
 That is an ingot, if I may have hap. 
 Bring eke with you a boUe^ or elles a panne 
 Ful of water, and ye shul wel see thanne 
 How that our besinesse shal thrive and preve. 
 And yet, for ye shul have no misbeleve 
 No wrong conceit of me in your absence, 
 I ne wol not ben out of your presence. 
 But go with you, and come with you again. 
 
 The chambre dore, shortly for to sain, 
 They opened and shet, and went hir wey, 
 And forth with hem they caried the key, 
 And camen again withouten any delay. 
 What shuld I tarien all the longe day ? 
 He toke the chalk, and shope it in the wise 
 Of an ingot, as I shal you devise ; 
 I say, he toke out of his owen sieve 
 A teine- of silver (y vel mote he cheve^) 
 Which that ne was but a just unce of weight. 
 And taketh heed now of his cursed sleight; 
 He shop his ingot, in length and in brede 
 Of thilke teine, withouten any drede, 
 So slily, that the preest it not espide ; 
 And in his sieve again he gan it hide; 
 
 Eowl. 2 ^ thin plate. ^ May evil be his. 
 
 42 
 
492 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 16700-lG7'i'I. 
 
 And from the fire he toke up his mate re, 
 And in the ingot it put with mery chere: 
 A^d in the water-vessel he it cast, 
 Whan that him list, and bad the preest as fast, 
 Loke what ther is ; put in thin hond and grope | 
 Thou shalt ther finden silver as I hope. 
 What, divel of helle ! shuld it elles be ? 
 Shaving of silver, silver is parde. 
 
 He put his hond in, and toke up a teine 
 Of silver fine, and glad in every veine 
 Was this preest, whan he saw that it was so, 
 Goddes blessing, and his mothers also, 
 And alle Halwes, have ye, sire Chanon, 
 Sayde this preest, and I hir malison. 
 But, and ye vouchesauf to techen me 
 This noble craft and this subtilitee, 
 I wol be your in all that ever I may. 
 
 Quod the Chanon, yet wol I make assay 
 The second time, that ye mow taken hede, 
 And ben expert of this, and in your nede 
 Another day assay in min absence 
 This discipline, and this crafty science. 
 Let take another unce, quod he tho, 
 Of quiksilver, withouten wordes mo, 
 And do therwith as ye have don er this 
 With that other, wHich that now silver is. 
 
 The preest him besieth all that ever he can 
 To don as this Chanon, this cursed man, 
 Commandeth him, and faste blewe the fire, 
 Tor to come to the eff"ect of his desire. 
 And this Chanon right in the mene while 
 Al redy was this preest eft^ to begile, 
 And for a countenance in his hond bare 
 An holow stikke, (take kepe and beware) 
 In the ende of which an unce and no more 
 Of silver limaile put was, as before 
 Was in his cole, and stopped with was wel 
 For to kepe in his limaile every del. 
 And while this preest was in his besinesse. 
 This Chanon with his stikke gan him dresse 
 To him anon, and his ponder cast in, 
 As he did erst, (the devil out of his skin 
 
 Again. 
 
16742-16783, THE CHAXOXES YEMANNES TALE. 493 
 
 Him torne, I pray to God, for liis falsliede, 
 For lie was ever false in tlioiight and dede) 
 And Tvitli his stikke, above tlie crosselet, 
 That was ordained with that false get. 
 He stirreth the coles, til relenten^ gaii 
 The wax again the fire, as every inan^ 
 But he a fool be, wote wel it mote nede. 
 And all that in the stikke was out yede, 
 And in the crosselet hastily it fell. 
 
 Now, goode sires, what wol ye bet than wel I 
 Whan that this preest was thus begiled again, 
 Supposing nought but trouthe, soth to sain. 
 He was so glad, that I can not expresse 
 In no manere his mirth and his gladnesse?. 
 And to the Chanon he profered eftsone 
 Body and good : ye, quod the Chanon, sone. 
 Though poure I be, crafty thou shalt me finde; 
 I warne thee wel, yet is ther more behinde. 
 
 Is ther any coper here within 1 sayd he. 
 Ye, sire, quod the preest, I trow ther be. 
 
 Elles go beie us som, and that as swithe. 
 Now, goode sire, go forth thy way and hie the. 
 
 He went his way, and with tlie coper he camOjj 
 And this Chanon it in his hondes name, 
 And of that coper weyed out an mice. 
 To simple is my tonge to pronounce, 
 As minister of my wit, the doublenessa 
 Of this Chanon, rote of all cursednesse. 
 He semed frendly, to hem that knew him nought^ 
 But he was fendly, both in werk and thought. 
 It werieth me to tell of his falsenesse ; 
 And natheles yet wol I it expresse, 
 To that entent men may beware therby. 
 And for noii other cause trewely 
 
 He put this coper into the crosselet, 
 And on the fire as swithe he hath it set. 
 And cast in ponder, and made the preest to blo\?^a 
 And in his werking for to stoupen low, 
 As he did erst, and all n'as but a jape ; 
 Eight as him list the preest he made his ape» 
 And afterward in the ingot he it cast, 
 And in the panne put it at the last 
 
 Melt, 
 
494 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 16781-16827. 
 
 Of water, and in he put his owen hond ; 
 And in his sieve, as ye heforen hond 
 Herde me tell, he had a silver teine ; 
 He slily toke it out, this cursed heine, 
 (Unweting this preest of his false craft) 
 And in the pannes botome he it laft. 
 And in the water rombleth to and fro, 
 And wonder prively toke up also 
 The coper teine, (not knowing thilke preest) 
 And hid it, and him hente by the brest. 
 And to him spake, and thus said in his game ; 
 Stoupeth adoun; by God ye be to blame; 
 Helpeth me now, as I did you whilere ; 
 Put in your hond, and loketh what is there. 
 
 This preest toke up this silver teine anon ; 
 And thanne said the Chanon, let us gon 
 With thise three teines which that we han wrought. 
 To som goldsmith, and wete if they ben ought: 
 For by my faith I n'olde for my hood 
 But if they weren silver fine and good, 
 And that as swithe wel preved shal it be 
 
 Unto the goldsmith with thise teines three 
 They went anon, and put hem in assay 
 To tire and hammer : might no man say nay, 
 But that they weren as hem ought to be. 
 
 This soted preest, who was gladder than he ? 
 Was never brid gladder agains the day, 
 IsTe nightingale in the seson of May 
 Was never non, that list better to sing, 
 Ne lady lustier in carolling, 
 Or for to speke of love and womanhede, 
 Ne knight in armes don a hardy dede 
 To stonden in grace of his lady dere. 
 Than hadde this preest this craft for to lere ; 
 And to the Chanon thus he spake and seid ; 
 For the love of God, that for us alle deied. 
 And as I may deserve it unto you, 
 What shal this receit cost 1 telleth me now. 
 
 By our lady, quod this Chanon, it is dere, 
 I warne you wel, that, save I and a frere, 
 In Engielond ther can no man it make. 
 
 No force, quod he ; now, ske, for Goddes sake, 
 What shall I pay ? telleth me, I you pray. 
 
 Ywis, quod he, it is ful dere I say. 
 
l682S-i6871. THE CHANONES YEMANNES TALE. 495 
 
 Sire, at o word, if that you list it have. 
 Ye shal pay fourty pound, so God me save ; 
 And n'ere the frendship that ye did er this 
 To me, ye sliuklen payen more ywis. 
 
 Tliis preest the sum of fourty pound anon 
 Of nobles fet, and toke hem everich on 
 To this Chanon, for this ilke receit. 
 All his werking n'as but fraud and deceit. 
 
 Sire preest, he said, I kepe for to have no loos 
 Of my craft, for I wold it were kept cloos ; 
 And as ye love me, kepeth it secree : 
 For if men knewen all my subtiltee, 
 By God they wolden have so gret envie 
 To me, because of my philosophie, 
 I shuld be ded, ther were non other way. 
 
 God it forbede, quod the preest, what ye say 
 Yet had I lever spenden all the good 
 Which that I have, (and elles were I wood) 
 Than that ye shuld fallen in swiche meschefe. 
 
 For your good will, sire, have ye right good prefe^ 
 Quod the Chanon, and farewel, grand mercy. 
 He went his way. and never the preest him sey 
 After that day : and whan that this preest shold 
 Maken assay, at swiche time as he wold, 
 Of this receit, farewel, it n'olde not be 
 Lo, thus bejaped and begiled was he; 
 Thus maketh he his introduction 
 To bringen folk to hir destruction. 
 
 Considereth, sires, how that in echo estate 
 Betwixen men and gold ther is debat, 
 So ferforth that unnethes is ther non. 
 This multiplying so blint many on, 
 That in good faith I trowe that it be 
 The cause gretest of swiche scarsitee. 
 Thise philosophres speke so mistily 
 In this craft, that men cannot come therby. 
 For any wit that men have now adayes. 
 They mow wel chateren, as don thise jayes. 
 And in hir termes set hir lust and peine, 
 But to hir parpos shul they never atteine. 
 A man may lightly lerne, if he have ought. 
 To multiplie, and bring his good to nought. 
 Lo, swiche a lucre is in this lusty game ; 
 A mannes mirth it wol turne al to grame^' 
 1 Grief. 
 
496 IHE CANTERBURY TALES. 16872-16913. 
 
 And emptien also gret and hevy purses, 
 And maken folk for to purchasen curses 
 Of hem, that han therto hir good yient. 
 O, fy for shame, they that han be brent, 
 Alas ! can they not flee the fires hete 1 
 Ye that it use, I rede that ye it lete, 
 Lest ye lese all; for bet than never is late^ 
 Never to thriven, were to long a date. 
 Though ye prolle^ ay, ye shul it never find : 
 Ye ben as bold as is JBayard the blind," 
 That blondereth forth, and peril casteth non: 
 He is as bold to renne agains a ston, 
 As for to go besides in the way: 
 So faren ye that miiltiplien, I say. 
 If that your eyen cannot seen aright, 
 Loketh that youre mind lacke not his sight. 
 Eor though ye loke never so brode and stare^ 
 Ye shul not win a mite on that chaffai-e, 
 But wasten all that ye may rape and renne. 
 Withdraw the fire, lest it to faste brenne ; 
 Medleth no more with that art, I mene; 
 For if ye don, your thrift is gon ful clene. 
 And right as swithe I wol you tellen here 
 What philosophres sain in this matere. 
 
 Lo, thus saith Arnolde of the newe toun, 
 As his Eosarie maketh mentioun, 
 He saith right thus, withouten any lie ; 
 Ther may no man Mercurie mortifie, 
 But it be with his brothers knowleching. 
 
 Lo, how that he, which firste said this tiling, 
 Of philosophres father was Hermes : 
 He saith, how that the dragon douteles 
 ISTe dieth not, but if that he be slain 
 With his brother. And this is for to sain. 
 By the dragon Mercury, and non other, 
 He understood, and brimstone by his brother, 
 That out of Sol and Luna were ydrawe. 
 
 And therfore, said he, take heed to my sawe» 
 Let no man besie him this art to seche, 
 * But if that he the entention and spech© 
 Of philosophres understonden can ; 
 And if he do, he is a lewed man. 
 
 1 Prowl, hunt al»out. 2 j. e., a blind horse. 
 
16914-16939. THE CHATTQNES YEMANNES TALE. 4:97 
 
 For this science and this conning (quod lie) 
 Is of the secree of secrees^ parde. 
 
 Also ther was a disciple of Plato, 
 That on a time said his maister to, 
 As his book Senior^ wol here witnesse, 
 And this was his demand in sothfastnesse.: 
 Telle me the name of thilke privee ston. 
 
 And Plato answerd unto him anon ; 
 Take the ston that Titanos men name. 
 'Which is that ? quod he. Magnetia is the same^, 
 Saide Plato. Ye, sire, and is it thus ? 
 This is ignottcm per ignotiu&. 
 What is Magnetia, good sire, I pray % 
 
 It is a water that is made, I say, 
 Of the elementes foure, quod Plato. 
 
 Tell me the rote, good sire, quod he tTioij 
 Of that water, if that it be your will. 
 
 Nay, nay, quod Plato, certain that I n'ilL 
 The philosophres were sworne everieh on^ 
 That they ne shuld discover it unto non, 
 ISTe in no book it write in no manere; 
 Por unto God it is so lefe and dere, 
 That he wol not that it discovered bej 
 Put wher it liketh to his deitee 
 Man for to enspire, and eke for to defende 
 Whom that him liketh; lo, this is the ende* 
 
 ^ He alludes t® a treatise, entitled, Secrefa Seeretorum, wliicli was sup- 
 posed to contain the sum of Aristotle's instructions to Alexander. See 
 Fabric. Bibl. Gr. v. ii, p. 167. It was very popular in the middle ages. 
 ^aEgidius de €olumna, a famous divine and bishop, about the latter end 
 of the xiilth century, built upon it his book De Beghnine principum, of 
 which our Occleve made a free translation in English verse, and 
 addressed it to Henry V., while Prince of Wales. A part of Lydgate's 
 translation of the Seereta Seeretorum is printed in Ashmole's Thecft. 
 Chem. Brit. p. 397. He did not translate more than about half of it, being 
 prevented by death. See MS. Harl. 2251, and Tanner, Bib. Brit, in v. 
 Ltdgate. The greatest part of the viith Book of Gower's Cmf. Amant. 
 Is taken from this supposed work of Aristotle. — TyrwTiitt. 
 
 2 The took alluded to is printed in the Theatrum Chemicum, vol. v., p. 
 219, under this title, " Senioris Zadith fil. Hamuelis tabula €hymica." 
 The story which follows of Plato and his disciple is there told (p. 249), 
 with some variations, of Salomon. " Dixit Salomon rex, Eecipe lapidem 
 •qui dicitur Thitarios — Dixit sapiens, Assigna mihi ilium. Dixit, est 
 corpus magnesicB — Dixit, quid est 'mttgnesiaf KesjpoUdit, magnesia est 
 aqica, composita," &c, — Tyrwhitt 
 
49 S THE CANTERBURY TALES. 16940-1 6 94&. 
 
 Than tliis conclude I, sin that God of heven 
 Ne wol not that the philosophres neven, 
 How that a man shal come unto this ston, 
 I rede as for the best to let it gon. 
 For who so maketh God his adversary. 
 As for to werken any thing in contrary 
 Of his will, certes never shal he thrive, 
 Though that he multiply terme of his live. 
 And ther a point; for ended is my tale. 
 God send every good man bote of his bale.* 
 
 1 Help for liis evil or trouble* 
 
d9a 
 
 THE MANCIPLES PEOLOGUK 
 
 1G950-1G977. 
 
 Wete ye not wher stondetli a litel toun, 
 
 Wliicli that ycleped is Bob up and doun/ 
 
 Under the blee/ in Canterbury way ? 
 
 Ther gan our hoste to jape and to play, 
 
 And sayde; sires, what? Dun is in the mirco^ 
 
 Is ther no man for praiere ne for hire, 
 
 That wol awaken our felaw behind ? 
 
 A thefe him might ful lightly rob and bind, 
 
 See how he nappeth, see, for cockes bones, 
 
 As he wold fallen from his hors atones. 
 
 Is that a coke of London, with meschance I 
 
 Do him come forth, he knoweth his penance ; 
 
 For he shal tell a tale by my fey, 
 
 Although it be not worth a hotel hey. 
 
 Awake thou coke, quod he, God yeve thee sorwe, 
 
 What aileth thee to slepen by the morwe?* 
 
 Hast thou had fleen^ al night, or art thou dronke? 
 
 Or hast thou with som queue al night yswonke, 
 
 So that thou mayst not holden up thin hed ? 
 
 This coke, that was ful pale and nothing red, 
 Sayd to our hoste ; so God my soule blesse, 
 As ther is falle on me swiche hevinesse, 
 N'ot I nat why, that me were lever to slepe^ 
 Than the best gallon wine that is in Chepe, 
 
 Wei, quod the Manciple, if it may don ese 
 To thee, sire Coke, and to no wight displese, 
 Which that here rideth in this compagnie, 
 And that our hoste wol of his curtesie^ 
 
 * Not marked in ordinary maps. - A forest in Kent. 
 
 ^ There is a proverbial saying; -"As didl as Dun in tlie mire.^' 
 4 Tiiis must be understood generally for the day time; as it was then 
 afternoon. It has been observed in the Discourse, etc., § xiii., that, in 
 this episode of the Coke, no notice is taken of his having told a talis 
 befoxe^--Ti/ru:hiii. « Fleas. 
 
500' THE CANTEBBtJRY TALES, 16'97S-17Q0c* 
 
 I wol as now excuse tliee of thy tale ; 
 For in good, faith thy visage is ful pale: 
 Thin eyen dasen,^ sothly as me thinketh, 
 And wel I wot, thy breth ful soure stinketh, 
 That sheweth wel thou art not wel disposed! 
 Of me certain thou shalt not Iben yglosed. 
 See how he galpeth,^ lo, this dronken wight. 
 As though he wold us swalow anon right. 
 Hold close thy mouth, man, By thy father kins 
 The devil of helle set his foot therin ! 
 Thy cursed breth enfeeten woll us alle : 
 Fy stinking swine, fy, foul mote thee befalle„ 
 A, taketh heed, sires, of this lusty man. 
 Now, swete sire^ wol ye just at the fan ?^ 
 Therto, me thinketh, ye be wel yshape. 
 I trow that ye have dronken win of ape,'* 
 And that is whan men playen with a straw. 
 
 And with this speche the coke waxed all wit^tTj 
 And on the Manciple he gan nod fast 
 For lacke of speche ; and doun his hors him ca.^ \. 
 Wher as he lay, til that men him up toke. 
 This was a faire chivachee of a coke : 
 Alas that he ne had hold him by his ladel! 
 And er that he agen were in the sadel, 
 Ther was gret shoving bothe to and fro 
 To lift him up, and mochel care and wo, 
 1 Dim, 2 Gapeth. 3 /, g., will you tilt. 
 
 ^ The explanation in tlie Gloss, of this and the preceding passage, 
 from Mr. Speght, is too ridiculous to be repeated. Wine of; ape I under- 
 stand to mean the same as vin de singe in the old Calendrier des Bergierx. 
 Sign. 1. ii. b. The author is treating of Physiognomy, and in his de- 
 scription of the four temperaments ]■ mentions, among other circum- 
 stances, the different effects of wine upon them. The Choleriek, he 
 says, a vin de Lyon ; cest a dire, quant a Men leu veult tanser noyser et 
 hattre. — The Sanguine, a vin de Singe j quant a plus heu tant est j)lus 
 ioyeux. — In the same manner the Phlegmatic is said to have vin de 
 mouion, and the Melancholick vin de porceau. 
 
 I find the same four animals applied to illustrate the effects of wine 
 in a little Eabbinical tradition, which I shall transci'ibe here from 
 Fabric. Cod. Pseudepig. Y. T. vol. i. p, 275.. Vineas plantanti KoacJio 
 Satanam sejunxisse me7norant, qui, dum Noa vites plantar et, mactaverit apud 
 illas ovem, leonem, simiam, et suem: Quod princijno potus vini homo sii 
 instar ovis, vitium sumptum efficiat ex Tiomine leonem, largius Jiausium 
 mutet eum in saltantem simiam, ad ehrietatem infusion transformet ilium in 
 poUufatn et prostratam suem. See also Gesta Romanorum, c. 159, where 
 a story of the same purport is quoted from jQsephus» in libra de cati^ 
 I'^'um naturalium. — Tyrwhitt. 
 
1700i— 1704o. THE MANCIPLES ]PROlOGUE. x50I 
 
 So imweldy was this sely palled gost : 
 And to the Manciple than spake our host* 
 
 Because that drinke hath domination 
 Upon this man, by my salvation 
 I trow he lewedly wol tell his tale. 
 For were it win, or old or moisty ale, 
 That he hath dronke, he speketh in his nose, 
 And sneseth fast, and eke he hath the pose.^ 
 He also hath to don more than ynough 
 To kepe him on his capel out of the slough: 
 And if he ialle from of his capel eftsone, 
 Than shul we alle have ynough to done 
 In lifting up his hevy dronken cors. 
 Tell on thy tale, of him make I no force. 
 
 But yet, Manciple, in faith thou art to nicGf 
 Thus openly to repreve him of his vice : 
 Another day he wol paraventure 
 Eecleimen thee, and bring thee to the lure: 
 I mene, he speken wol of smale thinges, 
 As for to pinchen at thy rekeninges, 
 That were not honest, if it came to prefe. 
 
 Quod the Manciple, that were a gret meschcfc^ 
 So might he lightly bring me in the snare. 
 Yet had I lever payen for the mare, 
 Which he rit on, than he shuid with me strive. 
 I wol not wrathen him, so mote I thrive ; 
 That that I spake, I sayd it in my bourd.^ 
 And wete ye what ? I have here in my gourd 
 A draught of win, ye of a ripe grape, 
 And right anon ye shul seen a good jape. 
 This coke shal drinke therof, if that I may; 
 Up peine of my lif he wol not say nay. 
 
 And certainly, to tellen as it was. 
 Of this vessell the coke dranke fast, (alas ! 
 What nedeth it ? he dranke ynough beforne) 
 And whan he hadde pouped in his home, 
 To the Manciple he toke the gourd again. 
 And of that drinke the coke was wonder fain. 
 And thonked him in swiche wise as he coude. 
 
 Than gan our hoste to laughen wonder loude, 
 And sayd ; I see wel it is necessary 
 Wher that we gon good drinke with us to cary ; 
 
 1 Rheum, catarrh. 8 in jest. 
 
502 THE CANTERBUEY TALES. 17046-1708L 
 
 Eor that wol turnen rancour and disese 
 
 To accord and love, and many a wrong apesc. 
 
 O Bacclius, Bacchus, blessed be thy name, 
 That so canst turnen ernest into game ; 
 Worship and thonke be to thy deitee. 
 Of that matere ye get no more of me. 
 Tell on thy tale, Manciple, I thee pray. 
 
 Wei, sire, q^uod he^ now herkeneth what I say. 
 
 %llit ll^mjUs ®^1^. 
 
 Whan Phebus dwelled here in erth adonnj 
 
 As olde bookes maken mentioun, 
 
 He was the moste lusty bacheler 
 
 Of all this world, and eke the best archer. 
 
 He slow Phiton the serpent, as he lay 
 
 Sleping agains the sanne upon a day ; 
 
 And many another noble worthy dede 
 
 He with his bow wrought, as men mowen red@s 
 
 Playen he coude on every minstralcie, 
 And singen, that it was a melodie 
 To heren of his clere vois the soun. 
 Certes the king of Thebes, Amphioun, 
 That with his singing walled the citeey 
 Coud never singen half so wel as he. 
 Therto he was the semelieste man, 
 That is or was, sithen the world began ; 
 What nedeth it his feture to descrive ? 
 For in this world n'is non so faire on live* 
 He was therwith fulfilled of gentillesse. 
 Of honour, and of parfite worthinesse. 
 
 This Phebus, that was flour of bacheleriej 
 As wel in fredom, as in chivalrie, 
 For his disport, in signe eke of victoria 
 Of Phiton, so as telleth us the storie, 
 Was wont to beren in his hond a bowe. 
 Now had this Phebus in his hous a crowe« 
 Which in a cage he fostred many a day, 
 And taught it speken, as men teche a jay. 
 
i7082-1712S. fHE MANCIPLES TALE. '503 
 
 Whit was this crowe, as is a snow-whit swan, 
 And contrefete the speche of every man 
 He coude, whan he shulde tell a tale. 
 • Therwith in all this- world no nightingale 
 Ne coude by an hundred thousand del 
 Singen so wonder merily and wel. 
 
 Now had this Phebus in his hous a wif, 
 Which that he loved more than his lif, 
 And night and day did ever his diligence 
 Hu-e for to plese, and don hire reverence : 
 Save only, if that I the soth shal sain, 
 Jelous he was, and wold have kept hire fain. 
 For him were loth yjaped for to be ; 
 And so is every wight in swiche degree = 
 But all for nought, for it availeth nought. 
 A good wif, that is clene of werk and thought, 
 Shuld not be kept in non await certain; 
 And trewely the labour is in vain 
 To kepe a shrewe, for it wol not be. 
 This hold I for a veray nicetee, 
 To spillen^ labour for to kepen wives ; 
 Thus writen olde clerkes in hir lives. 
 
 But now to purpos, as I first began. 
 This worthy Phebus doth all that he can 
 To plesen hire, wening thurgh swiche plesance. 
 And for his manhood and his governance. 
 That no man shulde put him from hire grace: 
 But God it wote, ther may no man embrace 
 As to destreine a thing, which that nature 
 Hath naturelly set in a creature. 
 
 Take any brid, and put it in a cage, 
 And do all thin entente, and thy corage. 
 To foster it tendrely with mete and drinke 
 Of alle deintees that thou canst bethinke. 
 And kepe it al so clenely as thou may; 
 Although the cage of gold be never so gay, 
 Yet had this brid, by twenty thousand fold, 
 Lever in a forest, that is wilde and cold, 
 Gon eten wormes, and swiche wretchedness©. 
 For ever this brid will don his besinesse 
 To escape out of his cage whan that he may: 
 His libertee the brid desireth ay. 
 
 .Q * Waste. 
 
504 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 17124!-17165. 
 
 Let take a cat, and foster hire with milke 
 And tendre flesh, and make hire couche of silke. 
 And let hire see a mous go by the wall, 
 Anon she weiveth milke and flesh, and all, 
 And every deintee that is in that hous, 
 Swiche appetit hath she to ete the mous, 
 Lo, here hath kind hu-e domination, 
 And appetit flemeth^ discretion. 
 
 A she-wolf hath also a vilains kind j 
 The lewedeste wolf that she may find. 
 Or lest of reputation, wol she take 
 In time whan hire lust to have a make.^ 
 
 All thise ensamples speke I by thise men 
 That ben untrewe, and nothing by women. 
 For men have ever a likerous appetit 
 On lower thing to parforme hir delit 
 Than on hir wives, be they never so faire, 
 Ne never so trewe, ne so debonaire. 
 Flesh is so newefangle,^ with meschance, 
 That we ne con in nothing have plesance. 
 That souneth unto vertue any while. 
 
 This Phebus, which that thought upon no gile, 
 Disceived was for all his jolitee: 
 For under him another hadde she, 
 A man of litel reputation, 
 Nought worth to Phebus in comparison: 
 The more harme is; it happeth often so; 
 Of which ther cometh mochel harme and wo. 
 
 And so befell, whan Phebus was absent, 
 • His wif anon hath for hire lemman sent. 
 
 Hire lemman ? certes that is a knavish speche, 
 Foryeve it me, and that I you beseche. 
 
 The wise Plato sayth, as ye mow rede. 
 The word must nede accorden with the dede, 
 If men shul tellen proprely a thing, 
 The word must cosin be to the werking. 
 I am a boistous man, right thus say I ; 
 Ther is no difference trewely 
 Petwix a wif that is of high degree, 
 (If of hire body dishonest she be) 
 And any poure wenche, other than this, 
 (If it so be they werken both amis) 
 
 1 Banisheth. 2 Mate. 3 Desirous of novelty. 
 
17166-17207. THE MANCIPLES TALll 505 
 
 But, for the gentil is iu estat above. 
 
 She shal be cleped his lady and his love ; 
 
 And, for that other is a poure woman, 
 
 She shal be cleped his wenche and his lemman: 
 
 And God it wote, min owen dere brother, 
 
 Men lay as low that on as lith that other. 
 
 Eight so betwix a titeles tiraiint 
 And an. outlawe, or elles a thefe erraunt, 
 The same I say, ther is no difference, 
 (To Alexander told was this sentence) 
 But, for the tyrant is of greter might 
 By force of meinie for to sle doun right, 
 And brennen hous and home, and make all plain, 
 Lo, therfore is he cleped a capitain ; 
 And, for the outlawe hath but smale meinie, 
 And may not do so gret an harme as he, 
 Ne bring a contree to so gret meschiefe, 
 Men clepen him an outlawe or a thefe. 
 
 But, for I am a man not textuel, 
 I wol not tell of textes never a del .; 
 I wol go to my tale, as I began. 
 
 Whan Phebus wif had sent for hire lemman, 
 Anon they wroughten all hir lust volage. 
 This white crowe, that heng ay in the cage. 
 Beheld hir werke, and sayde never a wordi 
 And whan that home was come Phebus the lord, 
 This crowe song, cuckow, cuckow, cuckow. [now? 
 
 "Whatl brid, quod Phebus, what song singest thou 
 J^e were thou wont so merily to sing, 
 That to my herte it was a rejoysing 
 To here thy vols 1 alas 1 what song is this I 
 
 By God, quod he, I singe not amis. 
 Phebus, {quod he) for all thy worthinesse. 
 For all thy beautee, and all thy gentillesse, 
 For all thy song, and all thy minstralcie, 
 For all thy waiting, blered is thin eye, 
 "With on of litel reputation, 
 Not worth to thee as in comparison 
 The mountance^ of a gnat, so mote I thrive; 
 For on thy bedde thy wif I saw him swive. 
 
 What wol you more 1 the crowe anon him told, 
 Bj sadfi tokenes, and by wordes bold, 
 
 i Value. 
 
000 THE CANTERBURY TALES, 1720S-r724§l 
 
 How that his wif had don hire lecherie 
 Him to gret shame, and to gret vilanie ; 
 And told him oft, he sawe it with his eyen. 
 
 This Phehus gan away ward for to wrien ; 
 Him thought his woful herte brast atwo* 
 His bows he bent, and set therin a flo ;* 
 And in his ire he hath his wif yslain : 
 This is the effect, ther is no more to sain. 
 For sorwe of which he brake his n^instralcio^ 
 Both harpe and lute, giterne^ and sautrie ; 
 And eke he brake his arwes, and his bo we ; 
 And after that thns spake he to the crowe. 
 
 Traitour, quod he, with tonge of scorpion, 
 Thou hast me brought to my confusion : 
 Alas that I was wrought ! why n'ere I dede I 
 
 O dere wif, o gemme of lustyhede, 
 That were to me so sade, and eke so trewe_, 
 Now liest thou ded, with face pale of hewe^ 
 Ful gilteles, that durst I swere ywis. 
 
 O rakel hond, to do £o foule a mis* 
 O troubled wit, o ire reccheles, 
 That unavised smitest gilteles. 
 
 wantrust, ful of false suspecion, 
 Wher was thy wit and thy discretion f 
 
 O, every man beware of rakelnesse, 
 Ne trowe no thing withouten strong witness©* 
 Smite not to^ sone, er that ye weten why, 
 And beth avised wel and sikerly. 
 Or ye do any execution 
 . Upon your ire for suspecion. 
 Alas ! a thousand folk hath rakel ire 
 Fully fordon," and brought hem In the mire» 
 Alas ! for sorwe I wol myselven sle. 
 
 And to the crowe, o false thefe, said he. 
 
 1 wol thee quite anon thy false tale. 
 Thou song whilom, like any nightingale, 
 ISTow shalt thou, false thefe, thy song forgon^ 
 And eke thy white fethers everich on, 
 
 Ne never in all thy lif ne shalt thou speke j 
 Thus shul men on a traitour ben awreke. 
 Thou and thin ofspring ever shul be blake^ 
 Ne never swete noise shul ye make^ 
 
 * An arrow. ^ Undon.au 
 
17350-172t)3, THE MANCIPLES TALE. 507 
 
 But ever crie ageins tempest and rain, 
 In token, that thurgli thee my wif is slain. 
 
 And to the crowe he stert, and that anon. 
 And pulled his white fethers everich on, 
 And made him blak, and raft him all his song 
 And eke his speche, and out at-dore him ilong 
 TJnto the devil, which I him betake ; 
 And for this cause ben alle crowes blake. 
 
 Lordings, by this ensample, I you pray, 
 Eeth ware, and taketh kepe what that ye say ; 
 Ne telleth never man in all your lif, 
 How that another man hath dight his wif; 
 He wol you haten mortally certain. 
 Dan Salomon, as wise clerkes sain, 
 Techeth a man to kepe his tonge wel ; 
 But as I sayd, I am not textuel. 
 But natheles thus taughte me my dame ; 
 My sone, thinke on the crowe a Goddes name. 
 My sone, kepe wel thy tonge, and kepe thy frend 
 A wicked tonge is werse than a fend : 
 My sone, from a fende men may hem blesse. 
 My sone, God of his endeles goodness© 
 Walled a tonge with teeth, and lippes eke, 
 For man shuld him avisen what he speke. 
 My sone, ful often for to mochel speche 
 Hath many a man ben spilt, as clerkes teche; 
 But for a litel speche avisedly 
 Is no man shent, to speken generally. 
 My sone, thy tonge shuldest thou restreine 
 At alle time, but whan thou dost thy peine 
 To speke of God in honour and prayere. 
 The firste vertue, sone, if thou wolt lere, 
 Is to restreine, and kepen wel thy tonge ; 
 Thus leren children, whan that they be yonge. 
 My sone, of mochel speking evil avised, 
 Ther lesse speking had ynough suffised, 
 Cometh mochel harme ; thus was me told and taught ; 
 In mochel speche sinne wanteth naught. 
 Wost thou wherof a rakel tonge serveth ? 
 Eight as a swerd forcutteth and forkerveth 
 An arme atwo, my dere sone, right so 
 A tonge cutteth frendship all atwa 
 A j angler is to God abhominable. 
 Eede Salomon, so wise and honourable, 
 
508 THE CANTERBURY TALES, I7294--1731X 
 
 Kede David in his Psalmes, rede Senek. 
 
 My sone, speke not, but with thyn hed thou beck, 
 
 Pissinmle as thou were defe, if that thou here 
 
 A janglour speke of perilous matere. 
 
 The Fleming sayth, and lerne if that thee lest^ 
 
 That litel jangling eauseth mochel rest. 
 
 My sone, if thou no wicked word hast said. 
 
 Thee thar not dreden for to be bewraid ; 
 
 But he that hath missayd, I dare wel sain, 
 
 He may by no way clepe his word again.^ 
 
 Thing that is sayd is sayd, and forth it gothy 
 
 Though him repent, or be him never so loth,. 
 
 He is his thral, to whom that he hath sayd 
 
 A tale, of which he is now evil apaid. 
 
 My sone, beware, and be non auctour newe 
 
 Of tidings, whether they ben false or trewe ; 
 
 Wher so thou come, amonges high or lowe, 
 
 .^epe wel thy tonge, and thiuke upon the crowe* 
 
 ^ KccaU vebat lie bas said. 
 
609 
 THE PERSONES PROLOGUE. 
 
 17312-17341. 
 
 Bt tliat tlie Manciple had his tale ended, 
 Tlie Sonne Iro the south line was descended 
 So lowe, that it ne was not to my sight 
 Degrees nine and twenty as of hight,^ 
 Foure of the clok it was tho, as I gesse. 
 For enleven foot, a litel more or lesse, 
 My shadow was at thilke time, as there, 
 Of swiche feet as my lengthe parted were 
 In six feet equal of proportion. 
 Therwith the mones exaltation, 
 In mene Libra, alway gan ascende. 
 As we were entring at the thorpes- ende. 
 For which our hoste, as he was wont to gle. 
 As in this cas, our jolly compagnie. 
 Said in this wise ; lordings, everich on, 
 Now lacketh us no tales mo than on. 
 Fulfilled is my sentence and my decree; 
 I trowe that we han herd of eche degree. 
 Almost fulfilled is myn ordinance ; 
 I pray to God so yeve him right good chance. 
 That telleth us this tale lustily. 
 
 Sire j)reest, quod he, art thou a vicary V 
 Or art thou a Person 1 say soth by thy fay. 
 Be what thou be, ne breke thou not our play | 
 For every man, save thou, hath told his tale. 
 Unbokei, and shew us what is in thy male.* 
 For trewely me thinketh by thy chere. 
 Thou shuldest knitte up wel a gret matere. 
 Tell us a fable anon, for cockes bones.^ 
 
 This Person him answered al at ones j 
 
 I See Tyrwhitt's notes. 2 village. 
 
 3 A vicar. 4 "VYallet, 
 
 5 The corruptLan of a familiar oath, which is more openly expressed 
 in va. 12629. 
 
510 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 3734^2-17357i 
 
 Thou getest fable non ytold for me, 
 
 For Poule, that writeth unto Timothe, 
 
 Eepreveth hem that weiven sothfastnesse, 
 
 And tellen fables, and swiche wretchednesse. 
 
 Why shuld I sowen draf out of my fist, 
 
 Whan I may sowen whete, if that me list 1 
 
 Tor which I say, if that you list to here 
 
 Moralitee, and vertuous matere, 
 
 And than that ye wol yeve me audience, 
 
 I wold ful fain at Cristes reverence 
 
 Don you plesance leful, as I can. 
 
 But trusteth wel, I am a sotherne man, 
 
 I cannot geste, rom, ram, ruf,^ by my letter, 
 
 And, God wote, rime hold I but litel better. 
 
 And therfore if you list, I wol not glose, 
 
 I wol you tell a litel tale in prose, 
 
 1 This is plainly a contemptuous manner of describing alliterative 
 poetry ; and the Person's prefatory declaration that " he is a Southern 
 man," would lead one to imagine that compositions in that style were, 
 at this time, chiefly confined to the Northern provinces. It was ob- 
 served long ago by William of Malmesbury, 1. iii. Pontif. Angl., that the 
 language of the North of England was so harsh and unpolished, as to 
 be scarce intelligible to a Southern man. From the same causes we 
 may presume, that it was often long before the improvements in the 
 poetical art, which from time to time were made in the South, coud 
 find their way into the North ; so that there the hobbling alliterative 
 verse might still be in the highest request, even after Chaucer had 
 established the use of the heroic metre in this part of the island. Dr. 
 Percy has quoted an alliterative poem by a Cheshire man on the battle 
 of Flodden in 1513, and he has remarked " that all such poets as used 
 this kind of metre, retained along with it many peculiar Saxon idioms." 
 Essay on Metre of P. P. This may perliaps have been owing to their 
 being generally inhabitants of the Northern counties, where the old 
 Saxon idiom underwent much fewer and slower alterations than it did 
 in the neighbourhood of the capital. 
 
 To geste here is to relate gestes. In ver. 13861 he has called it to telle 
 in geste. Both passages seem to imply that Gestes were chiefly written 
 in alliterative verse, but the latter passage more strongly than this. 
 After the Host has told Chaucer, that he " shall no longer rime," he 
 goes on— 
 
 " Let see wher thou canst tellen ought in geste. 
 Or tellen in prose somewhat at the leste" — 
 
 Geste there seems to be put for a species of composition which was 
 neither iJ/me nor Prose,- and what that could be, except alliterative 
 metre, I cannot guess. At the same time I must own, that I kn ow 
 no other passage which authorizes the interpretation of Geste in this 
 confined sense. — Tyrwfdtt. 
 
17358-17383. THE PERSONES TALE. 51 J 
 
 To knitte up all this feste, and make an endo 
 And Jesu for liis grace wit me sende 
 To shewen you the way in this viage 
 Of thilke parfit glorious pilgrimage, 
 That hight Jerusalem celestial. 
 And if ye vouchesauf, anon I shal 
 Beginne upon my tale, for which I pray 
 Tell your avis, I can no better say. 
 
 But natheles this meditation 
 I put it ay under correction 
 Of clerkes, for I am not textuel ; 
 I take but the sentence, trusteth me wel, 
 Therfore I make a protestation, 
 That I wol standen to correction 
 
 Upon this word we han assented sone : 
 For, as us semed, it was for to don, 
 To enden in som vertuous sentence, 
 And for to yeve him space and audience ; 
 And bade our hoste he shulde to him say, 
 That alle we to tell his tale him pray. 
 
 Our hoste had the wordes for us alle : 
 Sire preest, quod he, now faire you befalle j 
 Say what you list, and we shul gladly here. 
 And with that word he said in this manere ; 
 Telleth, quod he, your meditatioun, 
 But hasteth you, the sonne wol adoun. 
 Beth fructuous, and that in litel space, 
 And to do wel God sende you his grace* 
 
 ®f]^ f m0ius fait 
 
 Otie, swete Lord God of heven, that no man wol perish, but 
 wol that we comen all to the knowleching of him, and to 
 the blisful lif that is pardurable,^ amonesteth us by the 
 Prophet Jeremie, that sayth in this wise : Stondeth upon, 
 the wayes, and seeth and axeth of the olde pathes ; that is 
 to say, of olde sentences ; which is the good way : and 
 walketh in that way, and ye shul finde refreshing for your 
 soules. Many ben the wayes spirituel that Heden folk to 
 
 1 Lasting. 
 
512 TUE CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 our Lord Jesu Crist, and to the regne of glory : of which 
 wayes, ther is a ful noble way, and wel covenable,^ which 
 may not faille to man ne to woman, that thurgh sinne 
 hath misgon fro the right way of Jerusalem celestial ; and 
 this way is cleped penance ; of which man shuld gladly 
 herken and enqueren with all his herte, to wete, what is 
 penance, and whennes it is cleped penance, and how many 
 maneres ben of actions or werkings of penance, and how 
 many spices^ ther ben of penance, and which thinges 
 apperteinen and behoven to penance, and which thinges 
 distroublen penance. 
 
 Seint Ambrose sayth. That penance is the plaining^ of 
 man for the gilt that he hath don, and no more to do any 
 thing for which him ought to plaine. And som doctour 
 sayth : Penance is the waymenting^ of man that sorweth 
 for his sinne, and peineth himself, for he hath misdon. 
 Penance, with certain circumstances, is veray repentance of 
 man, that holdeth himself in sorwe and other peine for his 
 giltes : and for he shal be veray^ penitent, he shal first 
 bewailen the sinnes that he hath don, and stedfastly pur- 
 posen in his herte to have shrift of mouth, and to don 
 satisfaction, and never to don thing, for which him ought 
 more to bewayle or complaine, and to continue in good 
 werkes : or elles his repentance may not availe. For as 
 Seint Isidor sayth; he is a jaj)er and a gabber, and not 
 veray repentant, that eftsones'^ doth thing, for which him 
 oweth to repent. Weping, and not for to stint to do 
 sinne, may not availe. But natheles, men shuld hope, that 
 at every time that man falleth, be it never so oft, that he 
 may arise thurgh penance, if he have grace : but certain, it 
 is gret doute. For as saith Seint Gregorie; unnethes'^ 
 ariseth he out of sinne, that is charged with the charge of 
 evil usage. And therfore repentant folk, that stint for to 
 sinne, and forlete^ sinne or that^ sinne forlete hem, holy 
 chirche holdeth hem siker^° of hir salvation. And he that 
 sinneth, and veraily repenteth him in his last day, holy 
 chirche yet hopeth his salvation, by the grete mercy of our 
 Lord Jesu Crist, for his repentance : but take ye the siker 
 and certain way. 
 
 And now sith I have declared jou, what thing is penance^ 
 
 1 Suitable. 
 
 
 2 Species. 
 
 3 Lamentation. 
 
 4 Lamenting. 
 
 5 Truly. 
 
 6 Presently. 
 
 7 With difficulty. 
 
 8 Give over. 
 
 9 Before that. 
 
 10 Sure. 
 
 
THE PERSONES TALE. 513 
 
 now ye sliul understond, that ther ben three actions ol 
 penance. The first is, that a man be baptised after that 
 he hath sinned. Seint Augustine sayth ; but he be 
 penitent for his old sinful lif, he may not beginne the 
 newe clene lif : for certes, if he be baptised without peni- 
 tence of his old gilt, he receiveth the marke of baptisme, 
 but not the grace, ne the remission of his sinnes, til he 
 have veray repentance. Another defaute is, that men don 
 dedly sinne after that they have received baptisme. The 
 thridde defaute is, that men fall in venial sinnes after hir 
 baptisme, fro day to day. Therof sayth Seint Augustine, 
 that penance of good and humble folk is the penance of 
 every day. 
 
 The spices of penance ben three. That on of hem is 
 solempne, another is commune, and the thriddv* privee. 
 Thilke penance, that is solempne, is in two maneres ; as to 
 be put out of holy chirche in lenton,^ for slaughter of 
 children, and swiche maner thing. Another is wJian a 
 man hath sinned openly, of which sinne the fame is openly 
 spoken in the contree: and than holy chirche by jugement 
 distreyneth^ him for to do open penance. Commun 
 penance is, that preestes enjoinen men in certain cas : as 
 for to go paraventure naked on pilgrimage, or bare foot. 
 Privee penance is thilke, that men don all day for privee 
 sinnes, of which we shrive us prively, and receive privee 
 X»enance. 
 
 Nqw shalt thou understond what is behoveful and ne- 
 cessary to every parfit penance : and this stont on^ three 
 thinges ; contrition of herte, confession of mouth, and satis- 
 faction. For which sayth Seint John Chrisostome : penance 
 distreineth a man to accept benignely every peine, that him 
 is enjoined, with contrition of herte, and shrift of mouth, 
 with satisfaction, and werking of all maner humilitee. 
 And this is fruitful penance ayenst tho three thinges, in 
 which we wrathen our Lord Jesu Crist : this is to say, by 
 delit^ in thinking, by rechelesnesse in speking, and by 
 wicked sinful werking. And ayenst these wicked giltes is 
 penance, that may be likened unto a tree. 
 
 The rote of this tree is contrition, that hideth him in 
 the herte of him that is veray repentant, right as the rote 
 
 1 Lent. 2 Constraineth. 3 Consists in. 
 
 4 In vers. 7457, this is used for delight. Here, think, it must mean 
 " offence," from the Latin delictum. 
 
514 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 of the tree hidetli him in the erthe. Of this rote of con- 
 trition springeth a stalke^ that bereth branches and leves 
 of confession, and fruit of satisfaction. Of which Crist 
 sayth in his gospell; 'doth ye digne fruit of penitence ; for 
 by this fruit mow men understonde and knowe this tree, 
 and not by the rote that is hid in the herte of man, ne by 
 the branches, ne the leves of confession. And therfore 
 our Lord Jesu Crist saith thus ; by the fruit of hem shal 
 ye knowe hem. Of this rote also springeth a seed of grace, 
 which seed is moder of sikernesse,^ and this seed is eger 
 and hote. The grace of this seed springeth of God, thurgh 
 remembrance on the day of dome, and on the peines of 
 helle. Of this matere saith Salomon, that in the drede of 
 God man forletteth his sinne. The hete of this sede is the 
 love of God, and the desiring of the joye perdurable. This 
 hete draweth the herte of man to God, and doth^ him hate 
 his sinne. For sothly, ther is nothing that savoureth so 
 sote^ to a child, as the milke of his norice, ne nothing is to 
 him more abhominable than that milke, whan it is medled 
 with other mete. Bight so the sinful man that loveth his 
 sinne, him semeth, that it is to him most swete of any 
 thing ; but fro that time that he loveth sadly our Lord 
 Jesu Crist, and desireth the lif perdurable, ther is to him 
 nothing more abhominable. For sothly the lawe of God 
 is the love of God. For which David the prophet sayth ; 
 I have loved thy lawe, and hated wickednesse : he that 
 loveth God, kepeth his lawe and his word. This tree saw 
 the prophet Daniel in spirit, upon the vision of Nabucho- 
 donosor, whan he counselled him to do penance. Penance 
 is the tree of lif, to hem that it receiven : and he that 
 holdeth him in veray penance, is blisful, after the sentence 
 of Salomon. 
 
 In this penance or contrition man shal understond foure 
 thinges ; that is to say, what is contrition ; and which ben 
 the causes that moven a man to contrition ; and how he 
 shuld be contrite; and what contrition availeth to the 
 soule. Than is it thus, that contrition is the veray sorwe 
 that a nian receiveth in his herte for his sinnes, with sad 
 purpos to shriven him, and to do penance, and never more 
 to don sinne. And this sorwe shal be in this maner, as 
 sayth Seint Bernard; it shal ben hevy and grevous, and 
 ful sharpe and poinant in herte ; first, for a man hath agilted^ 
 
 1 Safety, salvation. 2 Makelh. 
 
 3 Sweet. 4 Sinned against. 
 
THE PERSONES TALE. 515 
 
 liis Lord and his creatour; and more sliarpe and poinaDt, 
 for he hath agilted his fiither celestial ; and yet more sliarpe 
 and poinant, for he hath wrathed and agilted him that 
 bonghte him, that with his jDrecious blod hath delivered iis 
 fro the bondes of sinne, and fro the crueltee of the devil, 
 and fro the peiues of helle. 
 
 The causes that ought to meve a man to contrition ben 
 sixe. First, a man shal remembre him of his sinnes. But 
 loke that that remembrance ne be to him no delit,^ by no 
 way, but grete shame and sorwe for his sinnes. For Job 
 sayth, sinful men don werkes worthy of confession. And 
 therfore sayth Ezechiel ; I wol remembre me all the yeres 
 of my lif,in the bitternesse of my herte. And God sayth in 
 the Apocalij)se ; remembre you fro whens that ye ben fall, 
 for before the time that ye sinned, ye weren children of 
 God, and limmes of the regne of God ; but for your sinne 
 ye ben w^axen thral and foule ; membres of the fende ; hate 
 of angels ; sclaunder of holy chirche, and fode of the false 
 serpent; perpetuel matere of the fire of helle ; and yet more 
 foule and abhominable, for ye trespassen so oft times, 
 as doth the hound that torneth again to ete his owen 
 spewing ; and yet fouler, for your long continuing in sinne, 
 and your sinful usage, for which ye be roten in your sinnes, 
 as a beest in his donge. Swiche manere thoughtes make a 
 man to have shame of his sinne, and no delit ; as God saith, 
 by the Prophet Ezechiel ; ye shul remembre you of your 
 wayes, and they shul displese you. Sothly, sinnes ben the 
 waies that lede folk to hell. 
 
 The second cause that ought to make a man to have dis- 
 deigne of sinne is this, that, as saith Seint Peter, who so 
 doth sinne, is thral to sinne, and sinne putteth a man in 
 gret thraldom. And therfore sayth the Prophet Ezechiel ; 
 I went sorweful, and had disdeigne of myself. Certes, wel 
 ought a man have disdeigne of sinne, and withdrawe him 
 fro that thraldom and vilany. And lo, what sayth Seneke 
 in this mater. He saith thus ; though I wist, that neither 
 God ne man shuld never know it, yet wold I have dis- 
 deigne for to do sinne. And the same Seneke also sayth : 
 I am borne to greter thinges, than to be thral to my body, 
 or for to make of my body a thral. ISTe a fouler thral may 
 no man, ne woman, make of his body, than for to yeve 
 his body to sinne. AP were it the foulest chorle, or the 
 
 1 Delight. 2 Albeit. 
 
 44: 
 
516 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 foulest woman tliat livetli, and lest of value, yet is lis 
 than more foule, and more in servitude. Ever fro the 
 higher degree that man falleth, the more is he thral, and 
 more to God and to the world vile and abhominable. O 
 good God, wel ought a man have disdeigne of sinne, sith 
 that thurgh sinne, ther he was free, he is made bond. And 
 therfore sayth Seint Augustine : if thou hast disdeigne of 
 thy servant, if he offend or sinne, have thou than disdeigne, 
 that thou thy self shuldest do sinne. Take reward of thin 
 owen value, that thou ne be to foule to thyself Alas ! wel 
 oughten they than have disdeigne to be servants and thralles 
 to sinne, and sore to be ashamed of hemself, that God of 
 his endles goodnesse hath sette in high estat, or yeve hem 
 witte, strength of body, hele,^ beautee, or prosperitee, and 
 bought hem fro the deth with his herte blood, that they 
 so unkindly agains his gentillesse, quiten him so viiainsly, 
 to slaughter of hir owen soules. O good God ! ye women 
 that ben of gret beautee, remembreth you on the proverbe 
 of Salomon, that likeneth a faire woman, that is a fool of 
 hire body, to a ring of gold that is worne in the groine^ of 
 a sowe : for right as a sowe wroteth^ in every ordure, so 
 wroteth she hire beautee in stinking ordure of sinne. 
 
 The thridde cause, that ought to meve a man to con- 
 trition, is drede of the day of dome, and of the horrible 
 peines of helle. For as Seint Jerome sayth : at every time 
 that me remembreth of the day of dome, I quake : for whan 
 I ete or drinke, or do what so^ I do, ever semeth me that 
 the trompe sowneth in min eres : riseth ye wp that ben ded, 
 and Cometh to the jugement. O good God ! moche ought 
 a man to drede sv/iche a jugement, ther as we shul be alle, 
 as Seint Poule sayth, before the streit jugement of oure 
 Lord Jesu Crist ; wheras he shal make a general congre- 
 gation, wheras no man may be absent; for certes ther 
 availeth non essoined ne non excusation ; and not only, that 
 our defautes shul be juged, but eke that all our werkes 
 shul openly be knowen. And, as sayth Seint Bernard, ther 
 ne shal no pleting*^ availe, ne no sleight i'' we shal yeve 
 rekening of everich idle word. Ther shal we have a juge 
 that may not be deceived ne corrupt ; and why 1 for certes, 
 all our thoughtes ben discovered, as to him : ne for prayer, 
 ne for mede, he wil not be corrupt. And therfore saitli 
 
 1 Health. 2 Snout. 3 Walloweth. 
 
 4 "Whatever. ^ ^ legal excuse for non-attendance. 
 
 6 Pleading. 7 Skill, contrivance. 
 
THE FERSONES TALE. 517 
 
 Salomon : the wrath of God ne wol not spare no wight, for 
 prayer ne for yeft.^ And therfore at the day of dome ther 
 is non hope to escajDe. Wherfore, as sayth Seint Anselme, 
 fill gret anguish shal the sinful folk have at that time ; ther 
 shal be the sterne and wroth juge sitting above, and under 
 him the horrible pitte of helle open, to destroy him that 
 wolde not beknowen- his sinnes, which sinnes shullen openly 
 be shewed before God and before every creature: and on 
 the left side, mo Divels than any herte may thinke, for to 
 liarie^ and drawe the sinful soules to the pitte of helle : and 
 within the hertes of folk shal be the biting conscieuce, and 
 without forth shal be the world all brenning. Whither 
 than slial the wretched soule flee to hide himi Certes he 
 may not hide him, he must come forth and shewe.him. 
 For certes, as saith Seint Jerome, the erth shal cast him 
 out of it, and the see, and also the aire, that shal be ful of 
 thonder clappes and lightnings. Now sothly, who so wil 
 remembre him of these thinges, I gesse that his sinnes shal 
 not torne him to dalit, but to grete sorwe,for drede of the 
 peine of helle. And therfore saith Job to God: suffer, 
 Lord, that I may a while bewaile and bewepe, or^ I go 
 without retorniug to the derke londe, ycovered with the 
 derkenesse of deth ; to the londe of misese and of derke- 
 nesse, wheras^ is the shadowe of deth : wheras is non ordre 
 ne ordinance, but grisly drede that ever shal last. Lo, here 
 may ye see, that Job prayed respite a while, to bewepe and 
 waile his trespas: for sothely on day of respite is better 
 than all the tresour of this world. And for as moche as a 
 man may acquite himself before God by penitence in this 
 world, and not by tresour, therfore shuld he pray to God 
 to yeve him respite a v/hile, to bewepen and bewailen his 
 trespas : for certes, all the sorwe that a man might make 
 fro the beginning of the world, n'is but a litel thing, at 
 regard of the sorwe of helle. The cause why that Job 
 clepeth helle the londe of derkenesse ; nnderstondeth,^ that 
 he clepeth it londe or erth, for it is stable and never shal 
 faile; and derke, for he that is in helle hath defaute of light 
 naturel ; for certes the derke light, that shal come out of 
 the fire that ever shal brenne, shal torne hem all to peine 
 that be in helle, for it sheweth hem the horrible Divels 
 that hem turmenten. Covered with the derkenesse of 
 deth ; that is to say, that he that is in helle, shal have de- 
 
 ^ Gift. 2 Acknowledge. 
 
 3 Hurry, ^ Before. 5 Where. 
 
 6 Meaneth, or perhaps it is the second person pi. " understand ye." 
 
518 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 fatite of the sight of God ; for certes the sight of God is the 
 lif perdurable. The derknesse of deth, ben the sinnes that 
 the wretched man hath don, which that distronblen him to 
 see the face of God, right as a derke cloud betwene us and 
 the Sonne. It is londe of misese/ because that ther ben 
 three maner of defautes ayenst three thinges that folk ot 
 this world han in this present lif; that is to say, honoures, 
 delites, and richesses. Ayenst honour have they in helle 
 shame and confusion : for wel ye wote, that men clepen 
 honour the reverence that man doth to man ; but in helle 
 is non honour ne reverence ; for certes no more reverence 
 shal be don ther to a king, than to a knave. For which 
 God sayth by the Prophet Jeremie; the folk, that me 
 despisen, shal be in despite. Honour is also cleped gret 
 lordeshiiD. Ther shal no wight serven otlier, but of 
 harme and turment. Honour is also cleped gret dig- 
 nitee and highnesse; but in helle shal they be alle for- 
 troden of divels. As God saith ; the horrible Divels shul 
 gon and comen upon the hedes of dampned folk : and this 
 is, for as moche as the higher that they were in this pre- 
 sent lif, the more shul they be abated and defouled in helle. 
 Ayenst the richesse of this world shul they have misese 
 of poverte, and this poverte shal be in foure thinges : in 
 defaute of tresour; of which David sayth; -the riche folk 
 that enbraceden and oneden^ all hir herte to tresour of this 
 world, shul slepe in the sle|)ing of deth, and nothing ne 
 shul they find in hir hondes of all hir tresour. And more- 
 over, the misese of helle shal be in defaute of mete and 
 drink. For God sayth thus by Moyses: they shul be 
 wasted with honger, and the briddes^ of helle shul devours 
 hem with bitter deth, and the gall of the dragon shal ben 
 hir drinke, and the venime of the dragon hir morsels. And 
 further over hir misese shal be in defaute of clothing, for 
 they shul be naked in body, as of clothing, save the fire in 
 which they brenne, and otlier filthes ; and naked shul they 
 be in soule, of all maner vertues, which that is the clothing 
 of the soule. Wher ben than the gay robes, and soffce 
 shetes, and the fyn shertes 1 Lo, what sayth God of heven 
 by the Prophet Esaie, that under hem shul be strewed 
 mothes, and hir covertures shul ben of wormes of helle» 
 And further over hir misese shal be in defaute of frendes, 
 for he is not poure that hath good frendes : but ther is no 
 frend; for neither God ne no good creature shal be frend 
 
 1 Uneasiness. 2 United. ^ Birds. 
 
THE PERSONES TALE. 519 
 
 to hem, and evericli of hem slial hate other with dedly 
 hate. The sonnes and the doughters shal rebel ayenst 
 father and mother, and kim-ed ayenst kinred, and chiden, 
 and despisen eche other, both day and night, as God sayth 
 by the Prophet Micheas. And the loving children, that 
 whilom loveden so fleshly, everich of hem wold eten other 
 if they might. For how shuld they love togeder in the 
 peines of helle, whan they hated eche other in the pros- 
 peritee of this lif ? For triiste wel, hir fleshly love was 
 dedly hate. As saith the Prophet David: who Jo that 
 loveth wickednesse, he hateth his owen soule, and who so 
 hateth his owen soule, certes he may love non other wight 
 in no manere: and therfore in helle is no solace ne no 
 frendship, but ever the more kinredes that ben in helle, 
 the more cursing, the more chiding, and the more dedly 
 hate ther is among hem. And further over ther they shul 
 have defaute of all manor delites, for certes delites ben 
 after the appetites of the five wittes; as sight, hering, 
 smelling, savouring, and touching. But in helle hir sight 
 shal be ful of derkenesse and of smoke, and hir eyen ful of 
 teres ; and hir hering ful of waimenting and grinting of 
 teeth, as sayth Jesu Crist : hir nosethirles shul be ful of 
 stinking ; and, as saith Esay the Prophet, hir savouring 
 shal be ful of bitter galle ; and touching of all hir body, 
 shal be covered with fire that never shal quenche, and with 
 wormes that never shal die, as God sayth by the mouth of 
 Esay. And for as moche as they shul not wene that they 
 mow dien for peine, and by deth flee fro peine, that mow 
 they understonde in the word of Job, that sayth ; Ther is 
 the shadow of deth. Certes a shadowe hath likenesse of 
 the thing of which it is shadowed, but shadowe is not the 
 same thing of which it is shadowed : right so fareth the 
 peine of helle ; it is like deth, for the horrible anguish ; and 
 why ? for it peineth hem ever as though they shuld die 
 anon; but certes they shul not dien. For as saith Seint 
 Gregory ; To wretched caitifes shal be deth withouten deth, 
 and ende withouten ende, and defaute withouten failing ; 
 for hir deth shal alway live, and hir ende shal ever more 
 beginne, and hir defaute shal never faile. And therfore 
 sayth Seint John the Evangelist; They shul folow deth, 
 and they shul not finde him, and they shul desu-e to die, and 
 deth shal flee from hem. And eke Job saith, that in helle 
 is non ordre of rule. And al be it so, that God hath create 
 all thing in right ordre, and nothing withouten ordre, but 
 
520 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 all thinges ben ordred and numbred, yet natheles tliey that 
 ben danpned ben nothing in ordre, ne hold non ordre. 
 For the erth shal here hem no fruite ; (for, as the Prophet 
 David sayeth, God shal destroy the fruite of the ertli, as 
 fro hem) ne water shal yeve hem no moisture, ne the aire 
 no refreshing, ne the fire no light. For as sayth Seint 
 Basil ; The brenning of the fire of this world shal God yeve 
 in helle to hem that ben dampned, but the light and the 
 clerenesse shal be yeve in heven to his children; right as 
 the good man yeveth flesh to his children, and bones to his 
 houndes. And for they shul have non hope to escape, 
 sayth Job at last, that ther shal horrour and grisly drede 
 dwellen withouten ende. Horrour is alway drede of harme 
 that is to come, and this drede shal alway dwell in the 
 hertes of hem that ben dampned. And therfore han they 
 lorne^ all hir hope for seven causes. First, for God that 
 is hir juge shal be withouten mercie to hem; and they 
 may not plese him ; ne non of his halwes ; ne they may 
 yeve nothing for hir raunsom ; ne they have no vois to 
 speke to him ; ne they may not flee fro peine ; ne they have 
 no goodnesse in hem that they may shew to deliver hem 
 fro peine. And therfore sayth Salomon ; The wicked man 
 dieth, and whan he is ded, he shal have non hope to escape 
 fro peine. Who so than wold wel understonde these peines, 
 and bethinke him wel that he hath deserved these peines 
 for his sinnes, certes he shulde have more talent to sighen 
 and to wepe, than for to singe and playe. For as sayth 
 Salomon ; Who so that had the science to know the peines 
 that ben established and ordeinedfor sinne,he wold forsake 
 sinne. That science, saith Seint Austin, maketh a man to 
 waimenten^ in his herte. 
 
 The fourthe point, that oughte make a man have contri- 
 tion, is the sorweful remembrance of the good dedes that 
 he hath lefte^ to don here in erthe, and also the good that 
 he hath lorne. Sothly the good werkes that he hath lefte, 
 either they be the good werkes that he wrought er he fell 
 into dedly sinne, or elles the good werkes that he wrought 
 while he lay in sinne. Sothly the good werkes that he did 
 before that he fell in dedly sinne, ben all mortified, astoned,'* 
 and dulled by the eft sinning : the other werkes that he 
 wrought while he lay in sinne, they ben utterly ded, as to 
 the lif perdurable in heven. Than thilke good werkes that 
 1 Lost. 2 Lament. 
 
 8 Omitted. 4 Confounded. 
 
THE PERSONES TALE. 521 
 
 ben mortified by eft sinning, which he did while he was in 
 charitee, momi never quicken ayen witliout veray^ peni- 
 tence. And tlierof sayth God by the mouth of Ezechiel ; 
 if the rightful man retome again fro his rightwisnesse and 
 do wickednesse^ shal he liven? nay; for all the good 
 \verkes that he hath wrought, shul never be in remem- 
 brance, for he shal die in his sinne. And upon thilke 
 chapitre sayth Seint Gregorie thus ; that we shal under- 
 stonde this principally, that when we don dedly sinu e, it is 
 for nought than to remembre or drawe into memorie the 
 good werkes that we have wrought beforn : for certes in 
 the werking of dedly sinne, ther is no trust in no good 
 werk that we have don beforn ; that is to say, as for to 
 have therby the lif perdurable in heven. But natheles, the 
 good werkes quicken again and comen again, and helpe and 
 availe to have the lif perdurable in heven, whan we have 
 contrition : but sothly the good werkes that men don while 
 they ben in dedly sinne, for as moche as they were don in 
 dedly sinne, they may never quicken : for certes, thing that 
 never had lif, may never quicken : and natheles, al be it so 
 that they availen not to have the lif perdurable, yet availen 
 they to abreggen^ the j^ine of helle, or elles to get tem- 
 poral richesses, or elles that God wol the rather enlumine 
 or light the herte of the sinful man to have repentance ; 
 and eke they availen for to usen a man to do good werkes, 
 that the fende have the lesse power of his soule. And thus 
 the cm-teis Lord Jesu Crist ne woU that no good werk that 
 men don be loste, for in somwhat it shal availe. But foi' 
 as moche as the good werkes that men don while they ben 
 in good lif, ben all amortised^ by sinne folowing, and eke 
 sith all the good werkes that men don while they ben in 
 dedly sinne, ben utterly ded, as for to have the lif perdu- 
 rable, wel may that man, that no good werk ne doth, sing 
 thilke newe Frenshe song, J''ay tout perdu mon temps, et 
 mon labour. For certes sinne bereveth a man both good- 
 nesse of nature ,and eke the goodnesse of grace. For sothly 
 the grace of the holy gost fareth like fire that may not ben 
 idle ; for fire faileth anon as it forletteth his werking, and 
 right so grace faileth anon as it forletteth his werking. 
 Than leseth the suiful man the goodnesse of glorie, that 
 only is hight to good men that labouren and werken weL 
 Wel may he be sory than, that oweth all his lif to God, as 
 
 * True. 2 Shorten. 3 Deadened. 
 
522 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 long as he hath lived, and also as long as he shal live, that 
 no goodnesse ne hath to paie with his dette to God, to 
 whom he oweth all his lif : for trust wel he shal yeve 
 accomptes, as sayth Seint Bernard, of all the goodes that 
 han ben yeven him in this present lif, and how he hath 
 hem dispended, in so nioche that ther shal not perishe an 
 here of his hed, ne a moment of an houre ne shal not 
 perishe of his time, that he ne shal yeve therof a rekening. 
 The fifthe thing, that ought to meve a man to contrition, 
 is remembrance of the passion that onr Lord Jesu Crist 
 suffered for our sinnes. Eor as sayth Seint Bernard, 
 "While that I live, I shal have remembrance of the travailes 
 that our Lord Jesu Crist suffered in preching, his weri- 
 nesse in traveling, his temptations whan he fasted, his long 
 wakinges whan he prayed, his teres whan he wept for 
 pitee of good peple : the wo and the shame, and the filthe 
 that men sayden to him : of the foule spitting that men 
 spitten in his face, of the buflfettes that men yave him : of 
 the foule mouthes^ and of the foule repreves that men 
 saiden to him : of the nayles with which he was nailed to 
 the crosse ; and of all the remenant^ of his passion, that he 
 suffred for mannes sinne, and nothing for his gilte. And 
 here ye shul understand that in mannes sinne is every 
 maner order, or ordinance, tourned up so^ doun. For it is 
 soth, that God and reson, and sensualitee, and the body of 
 man, ben ordained, that everich of thise foure thinges 
 shuld have lordship over that other : as thus ; God shuld 
 have lordship over reson, and reson over sensualitee, and 
 sensualitee over the body of man. But sothly whan man 
 sinneth, all this ordre, or ordinance, is turned up so doun ; 
 and therfore than, for as moche as reson of man ne wol not 
 be subget ne obeisant to God, that is his lord by right, 
 therfore leseth it the lordship that it shuld have over 
 sensualitee, and eke over the body of man : and why 1 for 
 sensualitee rebelleth than ayenst reson : and by that way 
 leseth reson the lordship over sensualitee, and over the 
 body. For right as reson is rebel to God, right so is 
 sensualitee rebel to reson, and the body also. And certes 
 this disordinance, and this rebellion, our Lord Jesu Crist 
 abought upon his precious body ful dere : and herkeneth 
 in whiche wise. For as moche as reson is rebel to God, 
 therfore is man worthy to have sorwe, and to be ded. This 
 
 1 Supply, " that men made at him." 
 
 ^ Remainder. 3 Upside down. 
 
THE PEKSONES TALE. 523 
 
 suffred our Lord Jesu Crist for man, after that he had be 
 betraied of his disciple, and distreined and bounde, so that 
 his blood brast out at every nail of his hondes, as saith 
 Seint Augustin. And ferthermore, for as moche as reson 
 of man wol not daunt sensualitee whan it may, therfore is 
 man worthy to have shame : and this suffered our Lord 
 Jesu Crist for man, whan they spitten in his visage. And 
 fertherover,^ for as moche as the caitif body of man is rebel 
 both to reson and to sensualitee, therfore it is worthy the 
 deth: and this suffered our Lord Jesu Crist upon the 
 crosse, wheras ther was no part of his body free, without 
 grete peine and bitter passion. And all this suffred our 
 Lord Jesu Crist that never forfaited ; and thus sayd he : 
 To mochel am I peined, for thinges that I never deserved : 
 and to .moche defouled for shendship- that man is worthy 
 to have. And therfore may the sinful man wel say, as 
 sayth Seint Bernard : Accursed be the bitternesse of my 
 sinne, for whiche ther must be suffered so moche bitter- 
 nesse. For certes, after the divers discordance of our 
 wickednesse was the passion of Jesu Crist ordeined in 
 divers thinges ; as thus. Certes sinful mannes soule is 
 betraied of the div^l, by coveitise of temporel prosperitee ; 
 and scorned by disceite, whan he cheseth fleshly delites ; 
 and yet it is turmented by impatience of adversitee, and 
 bespet by servage and subjection of sinne ; and at the last 
 it is slain finally. Tor this discordance of sinful man, was 
 Jesu Crist first betraied ; and after that was he bounde, 
 that came for to' unbinde us of sinne and of peine. Than 
 •was he bescorned, that only shuld have ben honoured in 
 alle thinges and of alle thinges. Than was his visage, that 
 ought to be desired to be seen of all mankind (in which 
 visage angels desiren to loke) vilainsly bespet. Than was 
 he scourged that nothing had trespassed ; and finally, than 
 was he crucified and slain. Than were accomplished the 
 wordes of Esaie : He was wounded for our misdedes, and 
 defouled for our felonies, Now sith that Jesu Crist toke 
 on himself the peine of all our wickednesses, moche ought 
 sinful man to wepe and to bewaile, that for his sinnes 
 Goddes sone of heven shuld all this peine endure. 
 
 The sixte thing, that shuld move a man to contrition, is 
 the hope of three thinges, that is to say, foryevenesse of 
 skme, and the yeft of grace for to do wel, and the glorie of 
 
524 THE CANTERBUIIY TALES. 
 
 heven, with whiclie God shal guerdon man for Ms good 
 dedes. And for as mo die as Jesu Crist yevetli iis tliise 
 yeftes of liis largenesse, and of his soveraine bountee, ther- 
 fore is he cleped, Jesus Nazarenus Rex Judceorum. Jesus 
 is for to say, saviour or salvation, on whom men shul hopen 
 to have foryevenesse of sinnes, which that is j)roprely 
 salvation of sinnes. And therfore sayd the Angel to 
 Joseph, Thou shalt clepe his name Jesus, that shal saven 
 his peple of hir sinnes. And hereof saith Seint Peter ; 
 Ther is non other name under heven, that is yeven to any 
 man, by which a man may be saved, but only Jesus. 
 Nazarenus is as moche for to say, as flourishing, in which 
 a man shal hope, that he, that yeveth him remission of 
 sinnes, shal yeve him also grace wel for to do : for in the 
 flour is hope of fruit in time coming, and in foryevenesse 
 of sinnes hope of grace wel to do. I was at the dore of 
 thin herte, sayth Jesus, and cleped for to enter. He that 
 oj)eneth to me, shal have foryevenesse of his sinnes, and I 
 wol enter into him by my grace, and soupe with him by 
 the good werkes that he shal don, which werkes ben the 
 food of God, and he shal soupe with me by the gret joye 
 that I shal yeve him. Thus shal man Jiope, that for his 
 werkes of penance God shal yeve him his regne, as he 
 behight^ him in the Gospel. 
 
 Now. shal man understande, in which maner shal be his 
 contrition. I say, that it shal be universal and total ; this 
 is to say, a man shal be veray repentant for all his sinnes, 
 that he hath don in delite of his thought, for delite is 
 jDcrilous. For ther ben two maner of conseutinges ; that 
 on of hem is cleped consenting of affection, whan a man is 
 meved to do sinne, and than deliteth him longe for to 
 thinke on that sinne, and his reson apperceiveth it wel, that 
 it is sinne ayenst the lawe of God, and yet his reson 
 refraineth not his foule delite or talent, though he see wel 
 apertly,^ that it is ayenst the reverence of God; although 
 his reson consent not to do that sinne indede, yet sayn som 
 doctours, that swiche delite that dwelleth longe is ful 
 perilous, al be it never so lite. And also a man shuld 
 sorow, namely for all that ever he hath desired ayenst the 
 lawe of God, with parfite consenting of his reson, for 
 therof is no doute, that it is dedly sinne in consenting : for 
 certes ther is no dedly sinne, but that it is first in mannea 
 
 1 Promised. 2 Openly. 
 
THE PEESONES TALE. 525 
 
 tliOTiglit, and after that in his delite, and so fortli into 
 consenting, and into dede. Wherfore I say, that many 
 men ne repent hem never of swiche thoughtes and delites, 
 ne never shriven hem of it, but only of the dede of gret 
 sinnes outward : wherfore I say, that swiche wicked delites 
 ben subtil begilers of hem that shul be dampned. More- 
 over man ought to sorwen for his wicked wordes, as wel as 
 for his wicked dedes : for certes repentance of a singuler 
 sinne, and not repentant of all his other sinnes ; or elles 
 rej)enting him of all his other sinnes, and not of a singuler 
 sinne, may not availe. For certes God Almighty is all 
 good ; and therfore, either he foryeveth all, or elles right 
 nought. And therfore sayth Seint Augustin: I wote 
 certainly, that God is enemy to every sinner : and how 
 than ? he that observeth on sinne, shal he have foryeve- 
 nesse of the remenant of his other sinnes ? IsTay. And 
 furtherover contrition shuld be wonder sorweful and 
 anguishous: and therfore yeveth him God plainly his 
 mercie : and therfore whan my soule was anguishous, and 
 sorweful within me, than had I remembrance of God, that 
 my praier might come to him. Furtherover contrition 
 muste be continuel, and that man have stedfast purpose 
 to shrive him, and to amend him of his lif. For sothly, 
 while contrition lasteth, man may ever hope to have 
 foryevenesse. And of this cometh hate of sinne, that de- 
 stroyeth sinne bothe in himself, and eke in other folk at 
 his power. For which sayth David ; they that love God, 
 hate wickednesse : for to love God, is for to love that he 
 loveth, and hate that he hateth. 
 
 The last thing that men shull understand in contrition 
 is this, wherof availeth contrition. I say, that contrition 
 somtime delivereth man fro sinne : of which David saith ; 
 I say, (quod David) I purposed fermely to shrive me, and 
 thou Lord relesedest my sinne. And right so as contrition 
 availeth not without sad purpos of shrift and satisfaction, 
 right so litel worth is shrift or satisfaction withouten con- 
 trition. And moreover contrition destroyeth the prison of 
 helle, and maketh weke and feble all the strengthes of the 
 Devils, and restoreth the yeftes of the holy gost, and of all 
 good vertues, and it clenseth the soule of sinne, and de- 
 livereth it fro the peine of helle, and fro the compagnie of 
 the devil, and fro the servage of sinne, and restoreth it to 
 all goodes spirituel, and to the compagnie and communion 
 of holy chirche. And furtherover it maketh him, that 
 
526 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 whilom was sone of ire, to be the sone of grace : and all 
 these thinges ben preved by holy writ. And therfore he 
 that wold set his entent to thise thinges, he were f ul wise : 
 for sothly he ne shuld have than in all his lif corage to 
 sinne, but yeve his herte and body to the service of Jes\x 
 Crist, and therof do him homage. For certes our Lord 
 Jesu Crist hath spared us so benignely in our folies, that 
 if he ne had pitee on mannes soule, a sory song might we 
 alle singe. 
 
 Explicit prima pars penitentiw^ et incipit pars secunda. 
 
 The second part of jDenitence is confession, and that is 
 signe of contrition. Now shul ye understonde what is con- 
 fession ; and whether it ought nedes to be don or non : and 
 which thinges ben covenable^ to veray confession. 
 
 First shalt thou understande, that confession is veray 
 shewing of sinnes to the preest ; this is to sale veray, for he 
 must confesse him of all the conditions that belongen to 
 his sinne, as ferforth as he can : all must be sayd, and 
 nothing excused, ne hid, ne forwrapped: and not avaunt 
 him of his good werkes. Also it is necessarie to under- 
 stande whennes that sinnes springen,and how they encresen, 
 and which they ben. 
 
 Of springing of sinnes saith Seint Poule in this wise : 
 that right as by on man sin entred first into this world, 
 and thurgh sinne deth, right so deth entreth into alle men 
 that sinnen : and this man was Adam, by whom sinne 
 entred into this world, whan he brake the commandement 
 of God. And therfore he that first was so mighty, that he 
 ne shuld have died, became swiche on that he must nedes 
 die, whether he wold or no ; and all his progenie in this 
 world, that in thilke maner sinnen, dien. Loke^ that in 
 the estat of innocence, whan Adam and Eve weren naked 
 in paradise, and no thing ne hadden shame of hir naked- 
 nesse, how that the serpent, that was most wily of all 
 other bestes that God had made, sayd to the woman : why 
 commanded God you, that ye shuld not ete of every tree 
 in Paradise 1 The woman ansv/ered : of the fruit, sayd 
 she, of the trees of Paradise we feden us, but of the fruit 
 of the tree that is in the middel of Paradise God forbode 
 us for to eten, ne to touche it, lest we shuld die. The 
 
 » Agreeable, ^ Look ye. 
 
THE PEESONES TALE. 527 
 
 serpent sayd to the woman: nay, nay, ye shul not dien of 
 deth ; for soth God wote, that what day that ye eto therof 
 your eyen shul open, and ye shul be as goddes, knowing 
 good and harme. The woman saw that the tree was good 
 to feding, and faire to the eyen, and delectable to the sight ; 
 she toke of the fruit of the tree and did ete, and yave to 
 hire husbond, and he ete ; and anon the eyen of hem both 
 opened : and whan they knewe that they were naked, they 
 sowed of a fig-tree leves in maner of breches, to hiden hir 
 members. Here mow ye seen, that dedly sinne hath first 
 suggestion of the fende. as sheweth here by the adder ; 
 and afterward the delit of the flesh, as sheweth here by 
 Eve ; and after that the consenting of reson, as sheweth by 
 Adam. For trust wel, though so it were, that the fende 
 tempted Eve, that is to say, the flesh, and the flesh had 
 delit in the beautee of the fruit defended, yet certes til 
 that reson, that is to say, Adam, consented to the eting of 
 the fruit, yet stode he in the state of innocence. Of thilke 
 Adam toke we thilke sinne original ; from him fleshly 
 discended be we all, and engendred of vile and corrupt 
 mater : and whan the soule is put in our bodies, right anon 
 is contract original sinne ; and that, that was erst but 
 only peine of concupiscence, is afterward both peine and 
 sinne : and therfore we ben all yborne sones of wrath, and 
 of damj)nation perdurable, if ne were Baptisme that we 
 receive, which benimeth us^ the culpe : but forsoth the 
 peine dwelleth with us as to temptation, which peine 
 hight concupiscence. This concupiscence, v/han it is 
 wrongfully disposed or ordeined in man, it maketh him 
 coveit, by coveitise of flesh, fleshly sinne by sight of his 
 eyen, as to erthly thinges, and also coveitise of highnesse 
 by pride of herte. 
 
 Now as to speke of the first coveitise, that is concupis- 
 cence, after the lawe of our membres, that were lawfully 
 ymaked, and by rightful jugement of God, I say, for as 
 moche as a man is not obeisant to God, that is his Lord, 
 therfore is his herte to him disobeisant thurgh concupis- 
 cence, which is called nourishing of sinne, and occasion of 
 sinne. Therfore, all the while that a man hath within him 
 the peine of concupiscence, it is impossible, but he be 
 tempted somtime, and moved in his flesh to sinne. And 
 this thing may not faile, as long as he liveth. It may wel 
 
 .^ 1 Taketh away from us. 
 
528 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 waxe feble by vertue of Baptisme, and by tbe grace of God 
 tburgli penitence ; but fully ne shal it never quenclie, that 
 he ne shal somtime be meved in himselte, but if he were 
 refreined by sikenesse, or malefice of sorcerie, or cold 
 drinkes. For lo, what sayth Seint Poule : the flesh coveiteth 
 ayenst the spirit, and the spirit ayenst the flesh : they ben 
 so contrarie and so striven, that a man may not alway do 
 as he wold. The same Seint Poule, after his gret penance, 
 in water and in lond ; in water by night and by day, in 
 gret peril, and in gret peine ; in lond, in grete famine and 
 thurst, cold and clothles, and ones stoned almost to deth ; 
 yet sayd he, alas I I caitif man, who shal deliver me fro 
 the prison of my caitif body ? And Seint Jerom, whan he 
 long time had dwelled in desert, wheras he had no com- 
 pagnie but of wilde bestes ; wheras he had no mete but 
 herbes, and water to his drinke, ne no bed but the naked 
 erth, wherfore his flesh was black, as an Ethiopian, for 
 hete, and nie destroyed for cold : yet sayd he, that the 
 brenning of lecherie boiled in all his body. Wherfore I 
 wot wel sikerly^ that they be deceived that say, they be 
 not tempted in hir bodies. Witnesse Seint James that 
 said, that every wight is tempted in his owen conscience ; 
 that is to say, that eche of us hath mater and occasion to 
 be tempted of the norishing of sinne, that is in his body. 
 And therfore sayth Seint John the Evangelist : if we say 
 that we ben without sinne, we deceive ourself, and truth is 
 not in us. 
 
 Now shul ye understonde, in what maner sinne wexeth 
 and encreseth in man. The first thing is that nourishing of 
 sinne, of which I spake before, that is concupiscence : and 
 after that cometh suggestion of the divel, this is to say, the 
 divels belous," with which he bloweth in man the fire of 
 concupiscence : and after that a man bethinketh him, 
 whether he wol do or no that thing to which he is tempted. 
 And than if a man withstond and weive the first entising 
 of his flesh, and of the fend, than it is no sinne : and if so 
 be he do not, than feleth he anon a flame of delit, and 
 than it is good to beware and kepe^ him wel, or elles he 
 wol fall anon to consenting of sinne, and than wol he do 
 it, if he may have time and place. And of this mater 
 sayth Moyses^by the devil, in this maner: the fend sayth, 
 
 1 Surely. 2 Bellows. ^ To warn and restrain. 
 
 4 I cannot tell where. Perhaps there may he some such passage in 
 the Kabbiuical histories of Moses. — Tynchitt. 
 
THE PERSONES TALE. 529 
 
 I wol chace and pursue man by wicked suggestion, and I 
 wol hent^ him by meving and stirring of sinne, and I wol 
 depart my pris, or my prey, by deliberation, and my lust 
 slial be accomplised in delit ; I wol draw my swerd in con- 
 senting : (for certes, right as a swerd departeth a thing in 
 two peces, right so consenting departeth God fro man) and 
 than wol I sle him with my hond ?n dede of sinne. Thus 
 sayth the fend; for certes, than is a man al ded in soule; 
 and thus is sinne accomplised, by temptation, by delit, and 
 by consenting: and than is the sinne actuel. 
 
 Forsoth sinne is in two maners, either it is venial, or 
 dedly sinne. Sothly, whan a man loveth any creature 
 more than Jesu Crist our creatour, than it is dedly sinne : 
 and venial sinne it is, if a man love Jesu Crist lesse than 
 him ought. Forsoth the dede of this venial sinne is ful 
 perilous, for it amenuseth" the love that man shuld have 
 to God, more and more. And therfore if a man charge 
 himself with many swiche venial sinnes, certes, but if so be 
 that he somtime discharge him of hem by shrift, they may 
 wel lightly amenuse in him all the love that he hath to 
 Jesu Crist : and in this wise skippeth^ venial sinne into 
 dedly sinne. For certes, the more that a man chargeth his 
 soule with venial sinnes, the more he is enclined to fall 
 into dedly sinne. And therfore let us not be negligent to 
 discharge us of venial sinnes. For the proverbe sayth, 
 that many smal maken a gret. And herken this ensample: 
 A gret wawe of the see cometh somtime with so gret a 
 violence, that it drencheth the ship : and the same harine 
 do somtime the smal dropes of water, that enteren thurgh 
 a litel crevis in the thurrok,'* and in the botom of the ship, 
 if men ben so negligent, that they discharge hem not by 
 time. And therfore although ther be difference betwix 
 thise two causes of drenching, algates'^ the ship is dreint. 
 Eight so fareth it somtime of dedly sinne, and of anoious° 
 
 1 Seize upon. 2 Lessens. 3 Leapetli, passeth quickly. 
 
 "* This seems to have signified any sort of keeled vessel, and from 
 thence what we call the hold of a ship. The following explanation of it 
 from an old book, entitled, " Oure Ladyes Mirroure," (Lond. 1530. fol. 
 57. b.) will fully justify Chaucer's use of it in both places, in the first 
 literally, and in the second metaphorically. "Ye shall understande 
 that there ys a place in the bottome of a shyppe, wherin ys gathered 
 all the fylthe that cometh into the shyppe — and it is called in some 
 contre of thys londe a thorrocke." — Tyrichitt. 
 
 5 Either way. ^ Hurtful, 
 
530 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 venial sinnes, whan t'hey multiplie in man so gretly, that 
 thilke worldly thinges that he loveth, thurgh which he 
 sinneth veniaily, is as gret in his herte as the love of God, 
 or more : and therfore the love of every thing that is not 
 beset in God, ne don principally for Goddes sake, although 
 that a man love it lesse than God, yet is it venial sinne ; 
 and dedly sinne is, whan the love of any thing weigheth in 
 the herte of man, as moche as the love of God, or more. 
 Dedly sinne, as sayth Seint Angustine, is, whan a man 
 tourneth his herte fro God, whiche that is veray soveraine 
 bountee, that may not chaunge, and yeveth his herte to 
 thing that may chaunge and flitte : and certes, that is every 
 thing save God of heven. For soth is, that if a man yeve 
 his love, which that he oweth to God with all his herte, 
 imto a creature, certes, as moche of his love as he yeveth 
 to the same creature, so moche he bereveth fro God, and 
 therfore doth he sinne : for he, that is dettour to God, ne 
 yeldeth not to God all his dette, that is to sayn, all the 
 love of his herte. 
 
 Now sith man understondeth generally, which is venial 
 sinne, than is it covenableto tell specially of sinnes, whiche 
 that many a man peraventure demetli hem no sinnes, and 
 shriveth him not of the same, and yet natlieles they be 
 sinnes sothly, as thiseclerkes writen ; this is to say, at every 
 tyme that man eteth and drinketh more than sufhceth to 
 the sustenance of his body, in certain he doth sinne ; eke 
 whan he speketh more than it nedeth, he doth sinne ; eke 
 whan he herkeneth not benignely the complaint of the 
 poure ; eke whan he is in hele^ of body, and wol not fast 
 whan other folk fast, without cause resonable ; eke whan 
 he slepeth more than nedeth, or whan he cometh by that 
 encheson^ to late to chirche, or to other werkes of charitee ; 
 eke whan he usetli his wif withouten soveraine desire of 
 engendrure, to the honour of God, or for the entent to yeld 
 his wif his dette of his body; eke whan he wol not visite 
 the sike, or the prisoner, if he may ; eke if he love wif or 
 child, or other worldly thing, more than reson requireth ; 
 eke if he flater or blandise more than him ought for any 
 necessitee ; eke if he amenuse^ or withdrawe the almesse of 
 the poure ; eke if he apparaile"* his mete more deliciously 
 than nede is, or ete it to hastily by likerousnesse ; eke if he 
 talke vanitees in the chirche, or at Goddes service, or that 
 
 1 Health. 2 Occasion. 
 
 3 Lessea. * Set out. 
 
THE PERSONES TALE. 531 
 
 he be a taler^ of idle wordes of foly or vilanie, for he slial 
 yeld accomptes of it at the day of dome ; eke whan he be- 
 highteth or assureth to don thinges that he may not per- 
 fourme ; eke whan that he by lightnesse of foly missayeth^ 
 or seorneth his neighbour ; eke whan he hath ony wicked 
 suspecion of thing, ther he ne wote of it no sothfastnesse :^ 
 thise thinges and mo withouten nombre be sinnes, as sayth 
 Seint Augustine. Now shul ye understonde, that al be it 
 so that non erthly man may eschewe al venial sinnes, yet 
 may he refreine him, by the brenning love that he hath to 
 our Lord Jesu Crist, and by prayer and confession, and 
 other good werkes, so that it shal but litel grieve. For aa 
 sayth Seint Augustine ; if a man love God in swiche manor, 
 that all that ever he doth is in the love of God, or for the 
 love of God veraily, for he brenneth in the love of God, 
 loke how moche that o drope of water, which falleth into 
 a fourneis ful of fire, anoieth or greveth the brenning of 
 the fire, in like manor anoieth or greveth a venial sinne 
 unto that man, whiche is stedfast and parfite in the love of 
 our Saviour Jesu Crist. Furthermore, men may also re- 
 freine and put away venial sinne, by receiving worthily the 
 precious body of Jesu Crist; by receiving eke of holy 
 water ; by almes dede ; by general confession of Confiteor 
 at Masse, and at prime,"* and at complin,^ and by blessing 
 of Bishoppes and Preestes, and by other good werkes. 
 
 De septem peccatis mortalihics, 
 
 Now it is behovely to tellen whiche ben dedly sinnes, 
 that is to say, chiefetaines of sinnes ; for as moche as all 
 they ren in o lees,^ but in divers manors. Now ben they 
 cleped chiefetaines, for as mOche as they be chiefe, and 
 of hem springen all other sinnes. The rote of thise sinnes 
 than is pride, the general rote of all harmes. For of this 
 rote springen certain braunches : as ire, envie, accidie' or 
 slouthe, avarice or coveitise, (to commun understonding) 
 glotonie, and lecherie : and eche of thise chief sinnes hath 
 his braunches and his twigges, as shal be declared in hir 
 chapitres folowing, 
 
 1 Teller, speaker. 2 Slandereth, speaketh evil of. 
 
 3 Certain truth. * Early matins. 
 
 6 Even-song. 6 One leash. 7 ^Negligence, 
 
632 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 Be superhia. 
 
 And tliongli so be, that no man knoweth utterly tlie 
 nombre of" the twigges, and of the harmes that comen of 
 pride, yet wol I shew a partie of hem, as ye shul nnder- 
 stond. Ther is inobedience, avaunting, ipocrisie, despit, 
 arrogance, impudence, swelling of herte, insolence, elation, 
 impatience, strif, contumacie, presumption, irreverence, per- 
 tinacie, vaine glorie, and many other twigges that I cannot 
 declare. Inobedient is he that disobeyeth for despit to the 
 commandements of God, and to his soveraines, and to his 
 gostly fader. Avauntour, is he that bosteth of the harme 
 or of the bountee that he hath don. Ipocrite, is he that 
 hideth to shew him swiche as he is, and sheweth him to 
 seme swiche as he is not. Despitous, is he that hath dis- 
 dain of his neighebour, that is to sayn, of his even Cristen,^ 
 or hath desjoit to do that him ought to do. Arrogant, is 
 he that thinketh that he hath those bountees in him, that 
 he hath not, or weneth that he shulde have hem by his 
 deserving, or elles that demeth that he be that he is not. 
 Impudent, is he that for his pride hath no shame of his 
 sinnes. Swelling of herte, is whan man rejoyceth him of 
 harme that he hath don. Insolent, is he that despiseth in 
 his jugement all other folk, as in regarde of his value, of 
 his conning,^ of his speking, and of his bering. Elation, is 
 whan he ne may neither suffre to have maister ne felawe. 
 Impatient, is he that wol not be taught, ne undernome^ of 
 his vice, and by strif werrieth truth wetingly,^ and de- 
 fendeth his foly. Contumax, is he that thurgh his indig- 
 nation is ayenst every auctoritee or power of hem that ben 
 his soveraines. Presumption, is whan a man undertaketh 
 an emprise that him ought not to do, or elles that he may 
 not do, and this is called surquidrie.^ Irreverence, is whan 
 man doth not honour ther as him ought to do, and waiteth 
 to be reverenced. Pei^tinacie, is whan man defendeth his 
 foly, and trusteth to moche in his owen wit. Yaine-glorie, 
 is for to have pompe, and delit in his temporel highnesse, 
 and glorye him in his worldly estate. Jangling, is whan 
 man speketh to moche before folk, and clappeth as a mille, 
 and taketh no kepe'' what he sayth, 
 
 1 Fellow-christian. 2 Knowledge. 
 
 ^ Eemiiided. * Knowingly. 
 
 5 Presumption, overweening conceit. 6 Cai-e. 
 
THE PERSONES TALE. 533 
 
 And yet ther is a privee spice of pride, that waitetli first 
 to be salewed,^ or he wol salew, all be he lesse worthy than 
 that other is ; and eke he waiteth" to sit, or to go above 
 him in the way, or kisse the pax, or ben encensed, or gon 
 to ofiVing before his neighbour, and swiche semblable 
 thinges, ayenst his duetee^ peraventure, but that he hath 
 his herte and his entente, in swiche a proude desire, to be 
 magnified and honoured beforn the peple. 
 
 Now ben ther two maner of prides ; that on of hem is 
 within the herte of a man, and that other is without. Of 
 swiche sothly thise foresayd thinges, and mo than I have 
 sayd, apperteinen to pride, that is within the herte of man ; 
 and ther be other spices of pride that ben withouten : but 
 natheles, that on of thise spices of pride is signe of that 
 other, right as the gay leveselP at the Taverne is signe of 
 the win that is in the celler. And this is in many thinges : 
 as in speclie and contenance, and outragious array of cloth- 
 ing : for certes, if ther had ben no sinne in clothing, Crist 
 wold not so sone have noted and spoken of the clothing of 
 thilke rich man in the gospel. And, as Seint Gregory 
 sayth, that precious clothing is culpable for the derthe^ of 
 it, and for his softnesse, and for his strangenesse and dis- 
 guising, and for the superfluitee, or for the inordinate 
 scantnesse of it, alas ! may not a man see as in our dales, 
 the sinneful costlewe array of clothing, and namely in to 
 moche superfluitee, or elles in to disordinate scantnesse ? 
 
 As to the firste sinne in superfluitee of clothing, whiche 
 that maketh it so dere, to the harme of the peple, not only 
 the coste of the enbrouding, the disguising, endenting, 
 or barring, ounding,^ paling,'' winding, or bending, and 
 semblable^ wast of cloth in vanitee ; but ther is also the 
 costlewe furring in hir gounes, so moche pounsoning of 
 
 1 Saluted. 2 Seeketh. 3 pue. 
 
 4 Levesell. See the n. on ver. 4059, though I am by no means satis- 
 fied with the explanation there given of this word. The interpretation 
 of it in the Pj^ompt. Parv. will not help us much. "Levecel beforn a 
 wyndowe or other place. Umhraculum." My conjecture with respect 
 to the origin of the proverb, Good wine needs no bush, is certainly Avrong. 
 That refers to a very old practice of hanging up a bush, or bough, where 
 wine is to be sold. The Italians have the same proverb, Al buono vino 
 non bisogna frasca. — Tyrwhiit. 
 
 5 Dearness, cost. 6 Waving, as in our watered silks. 
 
 "i Imitating pales. It is hopeless to expect to arrive at the precise 
 meaning of all these terms, unless we could find specimens of the gar^ 
 ments to which they refer. 8 guch like. 
 
534 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 cheseP to maken holes, so moche dagging of slieres,^ with 
 the siiperfluitee in length of the foresaicle gounes, trailing 
 in the dong and in the myre, on hors and eke on foot, as 
 wel of man as of woman, that all thilke trailing is veraily 
 (as in effect) wasted, consumed, thredbare, and rotten with 
 dong,^ rather than it is yeven to the poure, to gret damage 
 of the foresayd poure folk, and that in sondry wise : this 
 is to sayn, the more that cloth is wasted, the more must it 
 cost to the poure peple for the scarcenesse ; and further- 
 over, if so he that they wolden yeve swiche pounsoued 
 and dagged clothing to the poure peple, it is not con- 
 venient to were for hir estate, ne suffisant to hote^ hir 
 necessitee, to kepe hem fro the distemperance of the firma- 
 ment. Upon that other side, to speke of the horrible dis- 
 ordinat scantnesse of clothing, as ben thise cvitted sloppes 
 or hanselines,^ that thurgh hir shortenesse cover not the 
 shameful membres of man, to wicked entente ; alas ! som 
 of hem shewen the bosse^ and the shape of the horrible 
 swollen membres, that semen like to the maladie of Her- 
 nia, in the wrapping of hir hosen, and eke the buttokkes 
 of hem behinde, that faren as it were the hinder part of a 
 she ape in the ful of the mone. And moreover the wretched 
 swollen membres that they shew thurgh disguising, in de- 
 parting^ of hir hosen in white and rede, semeth that half 
 hir shameful privee membres were flaine. And if so be 
 that they departe hir hosen in other colours, as is white 
 and blewe, or white and blake, or blake and rede, and so 
 forth ; than semeth it, as by variance of colour, that the 
 half part of hir privee membres ben corrupt by the fire of 
 Seint Anthonie, or by cancre, or other swiche mischance. 
 Of the hinder part of hir buttokkes it is ful horrible for to 
 see, for certes in that partie of hir body ther as they pur- 
 gen hir stinking ordure, that foule partie shewe they to 
 the peple proudely in despite of honestee, whiche honestee 
 that Jesu Crist and his frendes observed to shewe in hir 
 lif Now as to the outrageous array of women, God wote, 
 that though the visages of som of hem semen ful chaste 
 
 1 Punching or stamping with a chisel. 
 
 2 Slitting or clipping with scissars. 
 
 •'' If we remember the description of Aldgate and Whitechapel in the 
 "WTitings of Stowe, we can well imagine what " London mud" was at the 
 still earlier period when Chaucer wrote 
 
 4 Help. 5 Some kind of breeches. 
 
 * Protuberance. 7 Barring in stripes of white and red. 
 
THE PERSONES TALE. 535 
 
 and clebonaire, yet notifien they, in hir array of attire, 
 likerousnesse and pride. I say not that honestee in cloth- 
 ing of man or woman is nncovenable, but certes the siiper- 
 flnitee or disordinat scarcitee of clothing is reprevable. 
 Also the sinne of ornament, or of apparaile, is in thinges 
 that apperteine to riding, as in to many delicat hors, that 
 ben holden for delit, that ben so faire, fatte, and costlewe ; 
 and also in many a vicious knave, that is susteined because 
 of hem ; in curious harneis, as in sadles, cropers, peitrels,^ 
 and bridles, covered with precious cloth and rich, barred 
 and plated of gold and silver. For which God sayth by 
 Zacharie the Prophet, I wol confounde the riders of swiche 
 hors. These folke taken litel regard of the riding of Goddes 
 sone of heven, and of his harneis, whan he rode upon the 
 asse, and had non other harneis but the poure clothes of 
 his disciples, ne we rede not that ever he rode on ony 
 other beste. I speke this for the sinne of superfluitee, 
 and not for honestee, whan reson it requireth. And more- 
 over, certes pride is gretly notified iu holding of gret 
 meinie,"^ whan they ben of litel profite or of right no pro 
 fite, and namely whan that meiuie is felonous and damage- 
 ous to the peple by hardinesse of high lordeship, or by way 
 of office ; for certes, swiche lordes sell than hn- lordeship 
 to the Devil of helle, whan they susteine the wickednesse 
 of hir meinie. Or elles, whan thise folk of low degree, as 
 they that holden hostelries, susteinen thefte^ of hir hostel- 
 lers, and that is in many maner of deceites : thilke maner 
 of folk ben the flies that folowen the hony, or elles the 
 houndes that folowen the caraine. Swiche foresayde folk 
 strangieu spirituelly hir lordeshipes ; for which thus saith 
 David the Prophet ; wicked deth mot come unto thilke 
 lordeshipes, and God yeve that they mot descend into 
 helle, all doun ; for in hir houses is iniquitee and shrewed- 
 nesse,'* and not God of heven. And certes, but if they don 
 amendement, right as God yave his benison to Laban by 
 the service of Jacob, and to Pharao by the service ot 
 Joseph, right so God wol yeve his malison to swiche lorde- 
 shipes as susteine the wickednesse of hir servants, but 
 they come to amendement. Pride of the table appereth 
 eke ful oft ; for certes riche men be cleped to festes, and 
 poure folk be put away and rebuked ; and also in excesse 
 
 * Foltrels, breast-plates. 2 _^ great compauy of servants* 
 
 * Permit, wink at the pilferings. ^ Accursedness. 
 
536 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 of divers metes and drinkes, and namely pwiche maner 
 bake metes and dishe metes brenning of wilde fire, and 
 peinted and castelled with paper, and semblable wast, so 
 that it is abusion to thinke. And eke in to gret precious- 
 nesse of vessell, and euriositee of minstralcie, by which a 
 man is stirred more to the delites of luxurie, if so be that 
 he sette his herte the lesse upon oure Lord Jesu Crist, it 
 is a sinne ; and certainely the delites might ben so gret in 
 this cas, that a man might lightly fall by hem into dedly 
 sinne. The spices that sourden of^ i^ride, sothly whan 
 they sonrden of malice imagined, avised, and forecaste, or 
 elles of usage, ben dedly sinnes, it is no donte. And 
 whan they sourden by freeltee unavised sodenly, and 
 sodenly withdraw again, al be they grevous sinnes, I gesse 
 that they be not dedly. Now might men aske, wherof 
 that pride sonrdeth and springeth. I say that somtime it 
 springeth of the goodes of nature, somtime of the goodes 
 of fortune, and somtime of the goodes of grace, Certes 
 the goodes of nature stonden only in the goodes of the 
 body, or of the soule. Certes, the goodes of the body ben 
 hele of body, strength, delivernesse,- beautee, gentrie, fran- 
 chise f the goodes of nature of the soule ben good wit, 
 sharpe understonding, subtil engine, vertue naturel, good 
 memorie : goodes of fortune ben riches, high degrees of 
 lordshipes, and preisinges of the peple : goodes of grace 
 ben science, power to suffre spirituel travaile, benignitee, 
 vertuous contemplation, withstonding of temptation, and 
 semblable thinges : of which foresayd goodes, certes it is 
 a gret folie, a man to priden him in ony of hem all. Now 
 as for to speke of goodes of nature, God wote that somtime 
 we have hem in nature as moche to our damage as to our 
 profite. As for to speke of hele of body, trewely it passeth 
 ful lightly, and also it is ful ofte encheson^ of sikenesse of 
 the soule : for God wote, the flesh is a gret enemy to the 
 soule : and therfore the more that the body is hole, the 
 more be we in peril to falle. Eke for to priden him in his 
 strength of body, it is a grete folie : for certes the flesh 
 coveiteth ayenst the spirite : and ever the more strong 
 that the flesh is, the sorier may the soule be : and over all, 
 this strength of body, and worldly hardinesse, causeth ful 
 oft to many man peril and mischance. Also to have pride 
 
 1 Arise from. 2 Agility. 
 
 3 Frankness. 4 Occasion. 
 
THE PEESO^^ES TALE. 537 
 
 of gentrie is right gret folie : for oft time the gentrie of 
 the body benimeth^ the gentrie of the soiile : and also we 
 ben all of o fader and of o moder : and all we ben of o 
 nature rotten and corrupt, both riche and poiire. Forsoth 
 o maner gentrie is for to preise, that appareilleth mannes 
 corage with vertiies and moralitees, and maketh him 
 Cristes child ; for trusteth w^el, that over what- man that 
 sinne hath maistrie, he is a veray cherl to sinne. 
 
 Now ben ther general signes of gentilnesse ; as eschew- 
 ing of vice and ribaudrie, and servage of sinne, in word, 
 and in werk and contenance, and using vertue, as courtesie, 
 and clenenesse, and to be liberal ; that is to say, large by 
 mesure ; for thilke that passeth mesure, is folie and sinne. 
 Another is to remember him of bountee, that he of other 
 folk hath received. Another is to bebenignetohis subgettes ; 
 wherfore saith Seneke ; ther is nothing more eovenable to a 
 man of high estate, than debonairtee and pitee : and therfore 
 thise flies that men clepen bees, whan they make hir king, 
 they chesen on that hath no pricke, wherwith he may sting. 
 Another is, man to have a noble herte and a diligent, to at- 
 teine to high vertuous thinges. Now certes, a man to priden 
 him in the goodes of grace, is eke an outrageous folie : for 
 thilke yeftes of grace that shuld have tourned him to good- 
 nesse, and to medicine, tourneth him to venime and confu- 
 sion, as sayth Seint Gregorie. Certes also, who so prideth him 
 in the goodnesse of fortune, he is a gret fool : for somtime is 
 a man a gret lord by the morwe,that is a caitife and a wretch 
 or^ it be night : and somtime the richesse of a man is cause 
 of his deth : and somtime the delites of a man ben cause of 
 grevons maladie, thurgh which he dieth. Certes, the com- 
 mendation of the peple is ful false and broteP for to trust ; 
 this day they preise, to-morwe they blame. God wote, 
 desire to have commendation of the peple hath caused deth 
 to many a besy man. 
 
 Remedium Superhioe, 
 
 Now sith that so is, that ye have understond what is 
 pride, and which be the spices of it, and how mennes pride 
 sourdeth^ and springe th ; now ye shul understond which is 
 the remedie ayenst it. Humilitee or mekenesse is the 
 remedy ayenst pride ; that is a vertue, thurgh which a man 
 
 1 Taketh away. 2 "Whatsoever. 3 Before. 
 
 4 Brittle. 6 Arisetb. 
 
538 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 hath, veray knowlege of himself, and holdeth of himself 
 no deintee, ne no pris, as in regard of his desertes, con- 
 sidering ever his freeltee. Now ben ther three maner of 
 humilitees ; as humilitee in herte, and another in the 
 mouth, and the thridde in werkes. The humilitee in herte 
 is in foure manors : that on is, whan a man holdeth himself 
 as nought worth before God of heven : the second is, whan 
 he despiseth non other man : the thridde is, whan he ne 
 recketh nat though men holde him nought worth : and the 
 fourth is, whan he is not sory of his humiliation. Also the 
 humilitee of mouth is in foure thinges; in attemperat 
 speche ; in humilitee of speche ; and whan he confesseth 
 with his owen mouth, that he is swiche as he thinketh that 
 he is in his herte : another is, whan he preiseth the bountee^ 
 of another man and nothing therof amenuseth.^ Humilitee 
 eke in werkes is in foure manors. The first is, whan he 
 putteth other men before him ; the second is, to chese the 
 lowest place of all; the thridde is, gladly to assent to good 
 conseil ; the fourth is, to stond gladly to the award of his 
 soveraine, or of him that is higher in degree ; certain this 
 is a gret werk of humilitee. 
 
 De Invidia. 
 
 After pride wol I speke of the foule sinne of Envie, 
 which that is, after the word of the philosopher,^ sorwe ol 
 other mennes prosperitee; and after the word of Seint 
 Augustme, it is sorwe of other mennes wele, and joye ot 
 other mennes harme. This foule sinne is platly ayenst the 
 holy gost. Al be it so, that every sinne is ayenst the holy 
 gost, yet natheles, for as moche as bountee apperteineth 
 proprely to the holy gost, and envie cometh proprely of 
 malice, therfore it is proprely ayenst the bountee of the 
 holy Gost. Now hath malice two spices, that is to say, 
 hardinesse of herte in wickednesse, or elles the flesh of 
 man is so blind, that he considereth not that he is in sinne, 
 or recketh not that he is in sinne ; which is the hardinesse 
 of the divel. That other spice of envie is, whan that a man 
 werrieth trouth, whan he wot that it is trouth, and also 
 whan, he werrieth the grace of God that God hath yeve to 
 his neighbour : and all this is by envie. Certes than is 
 envie the worst sinne that is ; for sothly all other sinnes be 
 
 1 Goodness. 2 Detracts from. 3 Aristotle. 
 
THE PEKSONES TALE. 539 
 
 somtime only ayenst on special vertiie : but certes en vie 
 is ayenst al maner vertiies and alle gooclnesse ; for it is sory 
 of allbountee of his neighbour : and in this maner it is 
 divers from all other sinnes ; for wel unnethe^ is ther any 
 sinne that it ne hath som delit in himself, save only envie, 
 that ever hath in himself anguish and sorwe. The spices 
 of envie ben these. Ther is first sorwe of other mennes 
 goodnesse and of hir prosperitee ; and prosperitee ought 
 to be kindly mater ofjoye; than is envie a sinne ayenst 
 kinde. The seconde spice of envie is joye of other mennes 
 harme ; and that is proj)rely like to the divel, that ever 
 rejoyseth him of mannes harme. Of thise two spices 
 Cometh backbiting; and this sinne of backbiting or de- 
 tracting hath certain spices, as thus : som man preiseth hia 
 neighbour by a wicked entente, for he maketh alway a 
 wicked knotte at the laste ende : alway he maketh a hut at 
 the last ende, that is digne of more blame, than is worth all 
 the preising. The second spice is, that if a man be good, or 
 doth or sayth a thing to good entente, the backbiter wol 
 turne all that goodnesse up so doun to his shrewde entente. 
 The thridde is to amenuse the bountee of his neighbour. 
 The fourthe spice of backbiting is this, that if men speke 
 goodnesse of a man, than wol the backbiter say ; Parfay 
 swiche a man is yet better than he ; in dispreising of him 
 that men preise. The fifth spice is this, for to consent 
 gladly to herken the harme that men speke of other folk. 
 This sinne is ful gret, and ay encreseth after the wicked 
 entent of the backbiter. After backbiting cometh grutch- 
 ing or murmurance, and somtime it springeth of im- 
 patience ayenst God, and somtime .ayenst man. Ayenst 
 God it is whan a man grutcheth ayenst the peine of helle, 
 or ayenst poverte, or losse of catel, or ayenst rain or tem- 
 pest, or elles grutcheth that shrewes^ have prosperitee, or 
 elles that good men have adversitee : and all thise thinges 
 shuld men suffre patiently, for they comen by the rightful 
 jugement and ordinance of God. Somtime cometh grutch- 
 ing of avarice, as Judas grutched ayenst the Magdeleine, 
 whan she anointed the hed of our Lord Jesu Crist with 
 hire precious oynement. This maner murmuring is swiche 
 fts whan man grutcheth of goodnesse that himself doth, or 
 that other folk don of hir owen catel.^ Somtime cometh 
 
 * I.e.t scarcely is there. 2 Ill-natured, ill-tempered people. 
 
 3 Out of their own means. 
 46 
 
5i0 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 murniTir of pride, as whan Simon tlie Pharisee grufcched 
 ayenst the Magdeleiue, whan she approched to Jesu Crist 
 and wept at his feet for hire sinnes: and somtime it 
 sonrdeth of envie, whan men discover a mannes harme that 
 was privee, or bereth him on hond^ thing that is false. 
 Murmur also is oft among servants, that grutchen whan 
 hir soveraines bidden hem do lefuP thinges ; and for as 
 moche as they dare not openly withsay the commaunde- 
 ment of hir soveraines, yet wol they say harme and grutche 
 and murmure prively for veray despit ; which wordes they 
 call the divels Pater noster, though so be that the divel had 
 never Pater noster, but that lewed folke yeven it swiche 
 a name. Somtime it cometh of ire or privee hate, that 
 norisheth rancour in the herte, as afterward I shal declare. 
 Than cometh eke bitternesse of herte, thurgh which bitter- 
 nesse every good dede of his neighbour semeth to him 
 bitter and u.nsavory. Than cometh discord that nn- 
 bindeth all maner of frendship. Than cometh scorning 
 of his neighbour, al do he never so wel. Than cometh 
 accusing, as whan a men seketh occasion to annoyen his 
 neighbour, which is'like the craft of the divel, that waiteth 
 both day and night to accusen us all. Than cometh 
 malignitee, thurgh which a man annoieth his neighbour 
 prively if he may, and if he may not, algate his wicked will 
 shal not let, as for to brenne his hous prively, or enjpoison 
 him, or sle his bestes, and semblable thinges. 
 
 Remedium Invidice. 
 
 Now wol I speke of the remedie ayenst this foule sinne 
 of envie. Firste is the love of God principally, and loving 
 of his neighbour as himself: for sothly that on ne may not 
 be without that other. And trust wel, that in the name 
 of thy neighbour thou shalt understande the name of thy 
 brother ; for certes all we have on fader fleshly, and on 
 moder ; that is to say, Adam and Eve ; and also on fader 
 spirituel, that is to say, God of heven. Thy neighbour art 
 thou bounde for to love, and will him all goodnesse, and 
 therfore sayth God ; Love thy neighbour as thyself ; that 
 is to say, to salvation both of lif and soule. And moreover 
 thou shalt love him in word, and in benigne amonesting^ 
 and chastising, and comfort him in his anoyes, and praye 
 
 1 Deceiveth him -with. 2 Lawful. 8 Admonishing, 
 
THE PERSONES TALE. 541 
 
 for him ■with all tliy lierte. And in dede thou shalt love 
 him in swiche wise that thou shalt do to him in charitee, 
 as thou woldest that it were don to thin owen person : and 
 therfore thou ne shalt do him no damage in wicked word, 
 ne harme in his body, ne in his catel, ne in his soule by 
 entising of wicked ensample. Thou shalt not desire his 
 wif, ne non of his thinges. Understonde eke that in the 
 name of neighbour is comjDrehended his enemy : certes man 
 shal love his enemy for the commandment of God, and 
 sothly thy frend thou shalt love in God. I say thin enemy 
 shalt thou love for Goddes sake, by his commandement : 
 for if it were reson that man shulde hate his enemy, for- 
 soth God n'olde not receive us to his love that ben his 
 enemies, Ayenst three maner of wronges, that his enemy 
 doth to him, he shal do three things, as thus : ayenst hate 
 and rancour of herte, he shal love him in herte : ayenst 
 chiding and wicked wordes, he shal pray for his enemy: 
 ayenst the wicked dede of his enemy he shal do him bountee. 
 For Crist sayth : Love your enemies, and prayeth for hem 
 that speke you harme, and for hem that chasen and pur- 
 suen you : and do bountee to hem that haten you. Lo, 
 thus comandeth us our Lord Jesu Crist to do to our 
 enemies: forsoth nature driveth us to love our frendes, 
 and parfay our enemies have more nede of love than our 
 frendes, and they that more nede have, certes to hem shal 
 men do goodnesse. And certes in thilke dede have we 
 remembrance of the love of Jesu Crist that died for his 
 enemies : and in as moche as thilke love is more grevous 
 to performe, so moche is more gret the merite, and ther- 
 fore the loving of our enemy hath confounded the venime 
 of the divel. For right as the divel is confounded by 
 humilitee, right so is he wounded to the deth by the love 
 of our enemy : certes than is love the medicine that casteth 
 out the venime of envie fro mannes herte. 
 
 De Ira, 
 
 After envy wol I declare of the sinne of Ire: for sothly 
 who so hath envy upon his neighbour, anon communly wol 
 finde him mater of wrath in word or in dede ayenst him 
 to whom he hath envie. And as wel cometh Ire of pride 
 as of envie, for sothly he that is proude or envious i^ 
 lightly^ wroth. 
 
 1 Easily. 
 
542 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 This sinne of Ire, after the discriving^ of Seint Angiistin, 
 is wicked will to be avenged by word or by dede. Ire, 
 after the Philosophre, is the fervent blode of man yquicked 
 in his herte, thui'gh which he wold harme to him that he 
 hateth: for certes the herte of man by enchaufing and 
 meving of his blood waxeth so troubled, that it is out ot 
 all maner jugement of reson. But ye shul understonde 
 that Ire is in two maners, that on of hem is good, and that 
 other is wicked. The good ire is by jalousie of goodnesse, 
 thurgh the which man is wroth with wickednesse, and 
 again wickednesse. And therfore saith the wise man, that 
 ire is better than play. This ire is with debonairtee, and 
 it is wrothe without bitternesse: not wrothe ayenst the 
 man, but wrothe with the misdede of the man : as saith the 
 Prophet David ; Irascimini, et nolite peccare. Now under- 
 stond that wicked ire is in two maners, that is to say, soden 
 ire or hasty ire without avisement and consenting of reson ; 
 the mening and the sense of this is, that the reson of a 
 man ne consenteth not to that soden ire, and than it is 
 venial. Another ire is that is ful wicked, that cometh of 
 felonie of herte, avised and cast before, with wicked will to 
 do vengeance, and therto his reson consenteth : and sothly 
 this is dedly sinne. This ire is so displesant to God, that 
 it troubleth his hous, and chaseth the holy Gost out of 
 mannes soule, and wasteth and destroyeth that likenesse 
 of God, that is to say, the vertue that is in mannes soule, 
 and putteth in him the likenesse of the devil, and benimeth 
 the man fro God that is his rightful Lord. This ire is a 
 ful gret plesance to the devil, for it is the devils forneis 
 that he enchaufeth with the fire of helle. For certes right 
 so as fire is more mighty to destroie erthly thinges, than 
 any other element, right so ire is mighty to destroie all 
 spirituel thinges. Loke how that fire of smal gledes,^ that 
 ben almost ded under ashen, wol quicken ayen-^ whan they 
 ben touched with brimstone, right so ire wol evermore 
 quicken ayen, whan it is touched with pride that is covered 
 in mannes herte. For certes fire ne may not come out of 
 no thing, but if it were first in the same thing naturelly : 
 as fire is drawne out of flintes with stele. And right so as 
 pride is many times mater of ire, right so is rancour norice 
 and keper of ire. Ther is a maner tree, as sayth Seint 
 Isidore, that whan men make a fire of the saide tree, and 
 
 1 Definition. 2 Burning embers. 3 Agaiu. 
 
THE PERSONES TALE. 543 
 
 cover the coles of it with ashen, sothly the fire therof wol 
 last all a yere or more : and right so fareth it of ranconr, 
 whan it is ones conceived in the herte of som men, certes 
 it wol lasten peraventure from on Easterne day until 
 another Easterne day, or more. But certes the same man 
 is ful fer from the mercie of God all thilke while. 
 
 In this foresaid devils forneis ther forgen three shrewes ; 
 pride, that ay bloweth and encreseth the fire by chiding 
 and wicked wordes : than stondeth envie, and holdeth the 
 hot yren upon the herte of man, with a pair of longe tonges 
 of longe rancour : and than stondeth the sinne of contumelie 
 or strif and cheste,^ and battereth and forgeth by vilains 
 reprevinges.2 Certes this cursed sinne aunoyeth both to 
 the man himself, and eke his neighbour. Eor sothly almost 
 all the harme or damage that ony man doth to his neighbour 
 Cometh of wi-ath : for certes, outrageous wrathe doth all 
 that ever the foule fende willeth or commandeth him ; for 
 he ne spareth neyther for our Lord Jesu Crist, ne his swete 
 moder ; and in his outrageous anger and ire, alas ! alas ! ful 
 many on at that time, feleth in his herte ful wickedly, both 
 of Crist, and also of all his halwes. Is not this a cursed 
 vice 1 Yes certes. Alas 1 it benimmeth^ fro man his witte 
 and his reson, and all his debonaire lif spirituel, that shuld 
 kepe his soule. Certes it benimmeth also Goddes due lord- 
 ship (and that is mannes soule) and tha love of his neigh- 
 bours: it strive th also all day ayenst trouth; it reve^h"* 
 him the quiet of his herte, and subverteth his soule. 
 
 Of ire comen thise stinking engendrures ; first, hate, that 
 is olde wrath : discord, thurgh which a man forsaketh his 
 olde frend that he hath loved ful long : and than cometh 
 werre, and every maner of wrong that a man doth to his 
 neighbour in body or in catel.^ Of this cursed sinne of ire 
 cometh eke manslaughter. And understondeth wel that 
 homicide (that is, manslaughter) is in divers wise. Som 
 maner of homicide is spirituel, and som is bodily. Spirituel 
 manslaughter is in six thiages. First, by hate, as sayth 
 St. John: He that hateth his brother, is an homicide. 
 Homicide is also by backbiting ; of which backbitours sayth 
 Salomon, that they have two swerdes, with which they 
 slay hir neighbours : for sothly as wicked it is to benime of 
 him his good name as his lif. Homicide is also in yeving 
 
 1 Debate. 2 Retorts, recriminations. 
 
 8 Taketh away. ^ Bereaveth. 5 Goods. 
 
544 THE CAIfTERBURY TALES. 
 
 of wicked conseil by fraude, as for to yeve conseil to areise 
 wrongful customes and talages ; of which sayth Salomon : 
 A lion roring, and a bere hungrie, ben like to cruel Lordes, 
 in withholding or abregging of the hire or of the wages of 
 servantes, or elles in usurie, or in withdrawing of the 
 almesse of ponre folk. For which the wise man sayth : 
 Fedeth him that almost dieth for honger ; for sothly but^ it 
 thou fede him thou sleest him. And all thise ben dedly 
 sinnes. Bodily manslaughter is whan thou sleest him with 
 thy tonge in other maner, as whan thou commandest to 
 sle a man, or elles yevest conseil to sle a man. Man- 
 slaughter in dede is in foure maners. That on is by lawe, 
 right as a justice dampneth him that is culpable to the 
 deth : but let the justice beware that he do it rightfully, 
 and that he do it not for delit to spill blood, but for 
 keping of rightwisenesse. Another homicide is don for 
 necessitee, as whan a man sleeth another in his defence, 
 and that he ne may non other wise escapen fro his owen 
 deth : but certain, and^ he may escape withouten slaughter 
 of his adversarie, he doth sinne, and he shal bere penance 
 as for dedly sinne. Also if a man by cas or aventure shete^ 
 an arowe or cast a stone, with which he sleeth a man, he 
 is an homicide. And if a woman by negligence overlyeth 
 hire child in hire slope, it is homicide and dedly sinne. 
 Also whan a man disturbleth conception of a childe, and 
 maketh a woman barein by drinkes of venimous herbes, 
 thurgh which she may not conceive, or sleeth hire child 
 by drinkes, or elles putteth certain material thing in hire 
 secret place to sle hire child, or elles doth unkinde sinne, 
 by which man, or woman, shedeth his nature in place ther 
 as a childe may not be conceived : or elles if a woman hath 
 conceived, and hurteth hireself, and by that mishappe the 
 childe is slaine, yet is it homicide. What say we eke of 
 women that murderen hire children for drede of worldly 
 shame? Certes, it is an horrible homicide. Eke if a man 
 approche to a woman by desir of lecherie, thurgh which 
 the childe is perished ; or elles smiteth a woman wetingly, 
 thurgh which she leseth hire child ; all thise ben homi- 
 cides, and horrible dedly sinnes. Yet comen ther of ire 
 many mo sinnes, as wel in worde, as in thought and in 
 dede ; as he that arretteth upon"* God, or blameth God of 
 the thing of which he is himself gilty; or despiseth God 
 
 1 Unless. 2 If. 8 Shoot. 4 imputeth to. 
 
THE PERSONES TALE, 545 
 
 and all his halwes, as don thise cursed hasardours^ in 
 divers contrees. This cursed sinne don they, whan they 
 felen in hir herte ful wickedly of God and of his halwes : 
 also whan they treten unreverently the sacrament of the 
 auter, thilke sinne is so gret, that unneth it may be relesed, 
 but that the mercy of God passeth all his werkes, it is so 
 gret, and he so benigne. Than cometh also of ire attry 
 anger, whan a man is sharply amonested^ in his shrift to 
 leve his sinne, than wol he be angry, and answere hokerly^ 
 and angerly, to defend or excusen his sinne by unstedfast- 
 nesse of his fleshe ; or elles he did it for to hold compagnie 
 with his felawes ; or elles he sayeth the fend enticed him ; 
 or elles he did it for his youthe ; or elles his complexion is 
 so corageous that he may not forbere ; or elles it is his 
 destinee, he sayth, unto a certain age ; or elles he sayth it 
 cometh him of gentilnesse of his auncestres, and semblable 
 thiuges. All thise maner of folke so wrappen hem in hir 
 sinnes, that they ne wol not deliver hemself ; for sothly, no 
 wight that excuseth himself wilfully of his sinne, may not 
 be delivered of his sinne, til that he mekely beknoweth* 
 his sinne. After this than cometh swering, that is expresse 
 ayenst the commandement of God : and that befalleth often 
 of anger and of ire. God sayth ; Thou shalt not take the 
 name of thy Lord God in idel.^ Also our Lord Jesu Crist 
 sayth by the word of Seint Mathew : Ne shal ye not swere 
 in all manere, neyther by heyen, for it is Goddes trone : ne 
 by erthe, for it is the benche of his feet: ne by Jerusalem, 
 for it is the citee of a gret King : ne by thin hed, for thou 
 ne mayst not make an here white ne black: but he sayth, 
 be your word, ye, ye, nay, nay ; and what that is more, it 
 is of evil. Thus sayth Crist. For Cristes sake swere not 
 so sinnefuUy, in dismembring of Crist, by soule, herte, 
 bones, and body: for certes it semeth, that ye thinken 
 that the cursed Jewes dismembred him not ynough, but 
 ye dismembre him more. And if so be that the lawe 
 compell you to swere, than reuleth you^ after the lawe of 
 God in your swering, as sayth Jeremie ; Thou shalt kepe 
 three conditions; thou shalt swere in trouth, in dome,^ 
 and in rightwisenesse. This is to say, thou shalt swere 
 soth ; for every lesing^ is ayenst Crist ; for Crist is veray 
 trouth : and thinke wel this, that every gret swerer, not 
 
 1 Gamesters. 2 Admonished. 
 
 3 Frowardlf. "^ Acknowledgeth. ^ Vain, idl^. 
 
 6 Be ye guided. 7 Judgment. 8 Lying. 
 
646 THE CANTERBUKY TALES. 
 
 compelled lawfully to swere, the plage shal not depart fro 
 his hous, while he useth unleful swering. Thou shalt swere 
 also in dome, whan thou art constreined by the domesman^ 
 to witnesse a trouth. Also thou shalt not swere for envie 
 neyther for favour, ne for mede, but only for rightwise- 
 nesse, and for declaring of trouthe to the honour and 
 worship of God, and to the aiding and helping of thin 
 even^ Cristen. And therfore every man that taketh 
 Goddes name in idel, or falsely swereth with his mouth, or 
 elles taketh on him the name of Crist, to be called a Cristen 
 man, and liveth agenst Cristes living and his teching : all 
 they take Goddes name in IdeL Loke also what sayth 
 Seint Peter ; Actuum iv. Non est aliud nomen sub coelo, &c. 
 Ther is non other name (sayth Seint Peter) under heven 
 yeven to men, in which they may be saved ; that is to say, 
 but the name of Jesu Crist. Take kepe^ eke how precious 
 is the name of Jesu Crist, as sayth Seint Poule, ad Phi- 
 lipenses ii. In nomine Jesu, &c. that in the name of Jesu 
 every knee of hevenly creature, or erthly, or of helle, shuld 
 bowen ; for it is so high and so worshipful, that the cursed 
 fend in helle shuld tremble for to here it named. Than 
 semeth it, that men that swere so horribly by his blessed 
 name, that they despise it more boldely than did the cursed 
 Jewes, or elles the divel, that trembleth whan he hereth 
 his name. 
 
 Now certes, sith that swering (but if it be lawfully don) 
 is so highly defended, moche worse is for to swere falsely, 
 and eke nedeles. 
 
 What say we eke of hem that deliten hem in swering, 
 and hold it a genterie or manly dede to swere gret othes ? 
 And what of hem that of veray usage ne cese not to swere 
 gret othes, al be the cause not worth a strawe 1 Certes 
 this is horrible sinne. Swering sodenly without avisement 
 is also a gret sinne. But let us go now to that horrible 
 swering of adjuration and conjuration, as don thise false 
 enchauntours and nigromancers in basins ful of water, or 
 in a bright swerd, in a cercle, or in a fire, or in a sholder 
 bone of a shepe : I cannot sayn, but that they do cursedly 
 and damnably ayenst Crist, and all the feith of holy 
 chirche. 
 
 What say we of hem that beleven on divinales/ as by 
 
 1 JudgOc 2 Fellow. 
 
 3 Heed. ■* Divinations, 
 
THE PERSONES TALE. 547 
 
 flight or by noise of briddes or of bestes, or by sorte of 
 geomancie, by dremes, by chirking^ of dores, or craking of 
 houses, by gnawing oi rattes, and swiche maner wretched- 
 nesse 1 Certes, all thise thinges ben defended^ by God and 
 holy chii'che, for which they ben accursed, till they come 
 to amendement, that on swiche filth set hir beleve. 
 Charmes for woundes, or for maladies of men or of bestes, 
 if they take any efiect, it may be peraventure that God 
 suflPreth it, for folk shuld yeve the more feith and reverence 
 to his name. 
 
 Now wol I speak of lesinges,^ which generally is false 
 signifiance of word, in entent to deceive his even'* Cristen. 
 Some lesing is, of which ther cometh non avantage to no 
 wight; and som lesing turneth to the profite and ese of a 
 man, and to the dammage of another man. Another lesing 
 is, for to saven his lif or his catel. Another lesing cometb 
 of delit for to lie, in which delit, they wol forge a long tale, 
 and peint it with all cu'cumstances, wher all the ground ot 
 the tale is false. Some lesing cometh, for he wol sustein 
 his word \^ and som lesing cometh of recchelesnesse with- 
 outen avisement, and semblable thinges. 
 
 Let us now touche the vice of flaterie, which ne cometh 
 not gladly, but for drede, or for covetise. Tlaterie is gene- 
 rally wrongful preising. Flaterers ben the devils nourices, 
 that nourish his children with milke of losengerie. Forsoth 
 Salomon sayth. That flaterie is worse than detraction : for 
 somtime detraction maketh an hautein^ man be the more 
 humble, for he dredeth detraction, but certes flaterie 
 maketh a man to enhaunce his herte and his contenance. 
 Flaterers ben the devils enchauntours, for they maken a 
 man to wenen^ himself be like that he is not like. They 
 be like to Judas, that betrayed God; and thise flaterers 
 betrayen man to selle him to his enemy, that is the devil. 
 Flaterers ben the devils chappeleines, that ever singen 
 Placebo. I reken flaterie in the vices of ire : for oft time 
 if a man be wroth with another, than wol he flater som 
 wight, to susteine him in his quarrel. 
 
 Speke we now of swiche cursing as cometh of irous^ 
 herte. Malison generally may be said every maner power 
 of harme : swiche cursing bereveth man the regne of God, 
 
 1 Creaking, 2 Forbidden. 3 Lyings. 
 
 * Fellow. 5 j.e.^ corroborate a falsehood already uttered. 
 
 • Haughty. 7 Thhik. s Wrathful. 
 
548 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 as sayth Seint Poule. And oft time swiclie cursing wrong- 
 fully retorneth again to him that curseth, as a bird 
 retorneth again to his owen nest. And over all thing 
 men ought eschew to curse hir children, and to yeve to the 
 devil hir engendrure, as fer forth as in hem is ; certes it ia 
 a. grete peril and a grete sinne. 
 
 Let us than sjDeke of chiding and repreving, which ben 
 ful grete woundes in mannes herte, for they unsow the 
 seames of frendship in mannes herte : for certes, unnethe 
 may a man be plainely accorded with him, that he hath 
 openly reviled, repreved, and disclaundred •} this is a full 
 grisly sinne, as Crist sayth in the Gospel. And take ye 
 kepe now, that he that repreveth his neighbour, either he 
 repreveth him by som harme of peine, that he hath upon 
 his bodie, as, Mesel,"^ croked harlot ; or by som sinne that 
 he doth. Now if he repreve him by harme of peine, 
 than turneth the repreve to Jesu Crist : for peine is 
 sent by the rightwise sonde^ of God, and by his suf- 
 france, be it meselrie, or maime, or maladie : and if he re- 
 preve him uncharitably of sinne, as, thou holour,"* thou 
 dronkelewe harlot, and so forth ; than apperteineth that 
 to the rejoicing of the devil, which ever hath joye that 
 men don sinne. And certes, chiding may not come but 
 out of a vilains herte, for after the haboundance of the 
 herte speketh the mouth fill oft. And ye shul understond, 
 that loke by any way, whan ony man chastiseth another, 
 that he beware fro chiding or repreving : for trewely, but 
 he beware, he may ful lightly quicken the fire of anger 
 and of wrath, which he shuld quench : and peraventure 
 sleth him, that he might chastise with benignitee. For, as 
 sayth Salomon, the amiable tonge is the tree of lif ; that 
 is to say, of lif spirituel. And sothly, a dissolute tonge 
 sleth the spirit of him that repreveth, and also of him 
 which is repreved. Lo, what sayth Seint Augustine : 
 Ther is nothing so like the devils child, as he which oft 
 chideth. A servant of God behoveth not to chide. And 
 though that chiding be a vilains thing betwix all maner 
 folk, yet it is certes most uncovenable betwene a man and 
 his wif, for ther is never rest. And therfore sayth Salo- 
 mon ; An hous that is uncovered in rayn and dropping, 
 and a chiding wif, ben like. A man, which is in a drop- 
 
 1 Slandered. 2 Thou leper! 
 
 S Sending, i.e., will. * Whoremonger. 
 
THE PERSONES TALE. 549 
 
 ping hous in many places, though he eschew the dropping 
 in o place, it droppeth on him in another place : so fareth 
 it by a chiding wif ; if she chide him not in o place, she 
 wol chide him in another : and therfore, better is a morsel 
 of bred with joye, than an hoiis filled ful of delices with 
 chiding, sayth Salomon. And Seint Poule sayth; O ye 
 women, beth ye subgettes to your husbonds, as you be- 
 hoveth in God ; and ye men loveth your wives. 
 
 Afterward speke we of scorning, which is a wicked 
 sinne, and namely, whan he scorneth a man for his good 
 werkes : for certes, swiche scorners faren like the foule tode, 
 that may not endure to smell the swete savour of the Tine, 
 whan it flourisheth. Thise scorners ben parting felawes^ 
 with the devil, for they have joye whan the devil winneth, 
 and sorwe if he leseth. They ben adversaries to Jesu 
 Crist, for they hate that he loveth ; that is to say, salva- 
 tion of soule. 
 
 Speke we now of wicked conseil, for he that wicked con- 
 seil yeveth is a traitour, for he deceiveth him that trusteth 
 in him. But natheles, yet is wicked conseil first ayenst 
 himself : for, as sayth the wise man, every false living hath 
 this propertee in himself, that he that wol annoy another 
 man, he annoyeth first himself. And men shul under- 
 stond, that man shal not take his conseil of false folk, ne 
 of angry folk, or grevous folk, ne of folk that loven spe- 
 cially hir owen profit, ne of to moche worldly folk, namely, 
 in conseiling of mannes soule. 
 
 Now Cometh the sinne of hem that maken discord 
 among folk, which is a sinne that Crist hateth utterly ; 
 and no wonder is ; for he died for to make concord. And 
 more shame don they to Crist, than did they that him 
 crucified : for God loveth better, that frendship be amonges 
 folk, than he did his owen body, which that he yave for 
 Tinitee. Therfore ben they likened to the devil, that ever 
 is about to make discord. 
 
 Now Cometh the sinne of Double tonge, swiche as speke 
 faire before folk, and wickedly behind : or elles they make 
 semblaunt as though they sjDake of good entention, or elles 
 in game and play, and yet they speken of wicked entente. 
 
 Now Cometh bev/reying^ of conseil, thurgh which a man. 
 is defamed : certes unnethe may he restore the damage. 
 Now Cometh manace, that is an open folic : for he that oft 
 
 1 Partners. 2 Betraying. 
 
050 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 manaceth, he threteth more than he may performe M oft; 
 time. Now comen idel wordes, that be without profite of 
 him that speketh the wordes, and eke of him that herken- 
 eth the wordes : or elles idel wordes ben the that ben 
 nedeles, or without entente of naturel profit. And al be 
 it that idel wordes be somtime venial sinne, yet shuld 
 men doute hem, for we shul yeve rekening of hem before 
 God. Now cometh jangling, that may not come withouten 
 sinne : and as sayth Salomon, it is a signe of apert folie. 
 And therfore a philosophre sayd, whan a man axed him 
 how that he shuld plese the peple, he answered ; Do many 
 good werkes, and speke few jangelinges. After this cometh 
 the sinne of japeres, that ben the devils apes, for they 
 make folk to laugh at hir japerie, as folk don at the gaudes^ 
 of an ape : swiche japes defendeth Seint Poule. Loke how 
 that vertuous wordes and holy comforten hem that tra- 
 vaillen in the service of Crist, right so comforten the 
 vilains words, and the knakkes of japeres, hem that 
 travaillen in the service of the devil. Thise ben the 
 sinnes of the tonge, that comen of ire, and other sinnes 
 many mo. 
 
 ' Remedmm Tree, 
 
 The remedie ayenst Ire, is a vertue that cleped is man- 
 suetude, that is Debonairtee : and eke another vertue, 
 that men clepen patience or sufferaunce. 
 
 Debonairtee withdraweth and refreineth the stirrings 
 and mevings of mannes corage in his herte, in swich maner, 
 that they ne skip not out by anger ne ire. Sufferance 
 suffereth swetely all the annoyance and the wrong that is 
 don to man outward. Seint Jerome sayth this of debon- 
 airtee. That it doth no harme to no wight, ne sayth : ne for 
 no harme that men do ne say, he ne chafeth not ayenst 
 reson. This vertue somtime cometh of nature ; for, as 
 sayth the philosophre, a man is a quick thing, by nature 
 debonaire, and tretable to goodnesse : but whan debonair- 
 tee is enformed of grace, than it is the more worth. 
 
 Patience is another remedy ayenst ire, and is a vertue 
 that suffereth swetely every mannes goodnesse, and is not 
 wroth for non harme that is don to him. The philosophre 
 sayth, that patience is the vertue that suffreth debonairly 
 
 1 Tricka. 
 
THE PERSONES TALE. 551 
 
 al the outrage of adversitee, and every wicked word. This 
 vertue maketh a man like to God, and maketh him 
 Goddes owen childe : as sayth Crist. This vertue dis- 
 comfiteth thin enemies. And therfore sayth the wise man ; 
 if thou wolt vanquish thin enemie, see thou be patient. 
 And thou shalt understond, that a man suifereth foure 
 maner of grevances in outward thinges, ayenst the which 
 foure he must have foure maner of patiences. 
 
 The first grevance is of wicked wordes. Thilke grevance 
 suffred Jesu Crist, without grutching, ful patiently, whan 
 the Jewes despised him and repreved him fal oft. Sufter 
 thou therfore patiently, for the wise man saith : if thou 
 strive with a foole, though the foole be wroth, or though 
 he laugh, algate^ thou shalt have no reste. That other 
 grevance outward is to have domage of thy catel. Thera- 
 yenst suifed Crist ful patiently, whan he was despoiled of 
 al that hrehad in this lif, and that n'as but his clothes. 
 The thridde grevance is a man to have harme in his body. 
 That sufFred Crist ful patiently in all his passion. The 
 fourthe grevance is in outrageous labour inwerkes; wher- 
 fore I say, that folk that make hir servants to travaile to 
 grevously, or out of time, as in holy dayes, sothly they do 
 gret sinne. Hereayenst suffred Crist ful patiently, and 
 taught us patience, whan he bare upon his blessed sholders 
 the crosse, uj)on which he shuld suffer despitous deth. 
 Here may men lerne to be patient ; for certes, not only 
 cristen men be patient for love of Jesu Crist, and for 
 guerdon of the blisful lif that is perdurable, but certes the 
 old Payenes, that never were cristened, commendeden 
 and useden the vertue of patience. 
 
 A philosophre upon a time, that wold have beten his 
 disciple for his gret trespas, for which he was gretly 
 meved, and brought a yerde^ to bete the childe, and whan 
 this child sawe the yerde, he sayd to his maister : what 
 thinke ye to do ? I wol bete thee, sayd the maister, for 
 thy correction. Forsoth, sayd the childe, ye ought first 
 correct yourself, that have lost all your patience for the 
 offence of a child. Forsooth, sayd the maister all weping, 
 thou sayest soth : have thou the yerde, my dere sone, and 
 correct me for min impatience. Of patience cometh obe- 
 dience, thurgh which a man is obedient to Crist, and to 
 all hem to which he ought to be obedient in Crist. And 
 
 I Iferertlielesa. s staff. 
 
 47 
 
552 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 understand wel, tliat obedience is parfite, whan that a 
 man doth gladly and hastily, with good herte entirely, all 
 that he shuld do. Obedience generally, is to performe 
 hastily the doctrine of God, and of his soveraines, to which 
 him ought to be obeisant in all rightwisenesse. 
 
 Be Accidia} 
 
 After the sinne of wrath, now wol I speke of the sinne 
 of accidie, or slonth : for en vie blindeth the herte of a man, 
 and ire troubleth a man, and accidie maketh him hevy, 
 thoughtful,^ and wrawe.^ Envie and ire maken bitternesse 
 in herte, which bitternesse is mother of accidie, and be- 
 nimeth him the love of all goodnesse ; than is accidie the 
 anguish of a trouble herte. And Seint Augustine sayth : 
 It is annoye of goodnesse and annoye of harme. Certes 
 this is a damnable sinne, for it doth wrong to Jesu Crist, 
 in as moche as it benimeth the service that men shulde do 
 to Crist with alle diligence, as sayth Salomon : but accidie 
 doth non swiche diligence. He doth all thing with annoye, 
 and with wrawnesse,'* slaknesse, and excusation, with 
 idelnesse and unlust.^ For which the book sayth: Ac- 
 cursed be he that doth the service of God negligently. 
 Than is accidie enemie to every estate of man. For certes 
 the estate of man is in three maners: either it is the 
 estate of innocence, as was the estate of Adam, before that 
 he felle into sinne, in which estate he was holden to werk, 
 as in herying and adoring of God. Another estate is the 
 estate of sinful men : in which estate men ben holden to 
 labour in praying to God, for amendement of hir sinnes, 
 and that he wold graunt hem to rise out of hir sinnes. 
 Another estate is the estate of grace, in which estate he is 
 holden to werkes of penitence : and certes, to all thise 
 thinges is accidie enemie and contrary, for he loveth no 
 besinesse at all. Now certes, this foule sinne of accidie is 
 eke a ful gret enemie to the livelode of the body ; for it ne 
 hath no purveaunce ayenst temporel necessitee ; for it 
 forsleutheth,^ forsluggeth, and destroieth all goodes tem- 
 porel by recchelesnesse. 
 
 1 Negligence arising from vexation or melancholy 
 
 2 I.e., tlioughtful in a bad sense, brooding, gloomy. 
 
 3 Peevish. 4 Peevishness. 
 
 6 Without good will. " Loseth through sloth. 
 
THE PERSONES TALE. 553 
 
 The folirtli thing is that accidie is like hem that ben in 
 the peine of helle, because of hir slouthe and of hir hevi- 
 nesse : for they that be damned, ben so bound, that they 
 may neyther do wel ne think wel. Of accidie cometh first, 
 that a man is annoied and accombred to do any goodnesse, 
 and that maketh that God hath abhomination of swiche 
 accidie, as sayth Seint John. 
 
 Now cometh slouthe, that wol not suffre no hardnesse 
 ne no penance : for sothly, slouthe is so tendre and so 
 delicat, as sayth Salomon, that he wol suflfre non hardnesse 
 ne penance, and therfore he shendeth^ all that he doth. 
 Ayenst this roten sinne of accidie and slouthe shuld men 
 exercise hemself, and use hemself to do good werkes, and 
 manly and vertuously cachen corage wel to do, thinking 
 that our Lord Jesu Crist quiteth every good deed, be it 
 never so lite. Usage of labour is a gret thing : for it 
 maketh, as sayth Seint Bernard, the labourer to have 
 strong armes and hard sinewes : and slouthe maketh hem 
 feble and tendre. Than cometh drede for to beginne to 
 werke any good werkes : for certes, he that enclineth to 
 sinne, him thinketh it is to gret an emprise for to under- 
 take the werkes of goodnesse, and casteth in his herte 
 that the circumstances of goodnesse ben so grevous and 
 so chargeant for to suffre^ that he dare not undertake to 
 do werkes of goodnesse, as sayth Seint Gregorie. 
 
 Now cometh wanhope, that is, despeir of the mercy of 
 God, that cometh somtime of to moche outrageous sorwe, 
 and somtime of to moche drede, imagining that he hath do 
 so moche sinne, that it wolde not availe him, though he 
 wolde repent him, and forsake sinne : thurgh which de- 
 speire or drede, he abandoneth all his herte to every 
 maner sinne, as sayth Seint Augustine. Which dampnable 
 sinne, if it continue unto his end, it is cleped the sinne of 
 the holy gost. This horrible sinne is so perilous, that he 
 that is despeired, ther n'is no felonie, ne no sinne, that he 
 douteth for to do, as shewed wel by Judas. Certes, aboven 
 all sinnes than is this sinne most displesant and most 
 adversarie to Crist. Sothly, he that despeireth him, is 
 like to the coward champion recreant, that flieth with- 
 outen nede. Alas! alas! nedeles is he recreant, and 
 nedeles despeired. Certes, the mercy of God is ever redy 
 to the penitent person^ and is above all his werkes. Alas ! 
 
 1 Kuineth. 
 
554 THE CANTERBURY TALEa 
 
 cannot a man bethinke him on the Gospel of Seint Luke, 
 chap. XV., wheras Crist sayeth, that as wel shal ther be 
 joye in heven upon a sinful man that doth penitence, as 
 upon ninety and nine rightful men that neden no peni- 
 tence? Loke further, in the same Gospel, the joye and 
 the feste of the good man that had lost his sone, whan his 
 sone was retourned with repentance to his fader. Can 
 they not remembre hem also, (as sayth Seint Luke, chap, 
 xxiii.) how that the thefe that was honged beside Jesu 
 Crist, sayd, Lord, remembre on me, whan thou comest in 
 thy regne ? Forsoth, said Crist, I say to thee, to-day shalt 
 thou be with me in paradis. Certes, ther is non so hor- 
 rible sinne of man, that ne may in his lif be destroyed by 
 penitence, thurgh vertue of the passion and of the deth of 
 Crist. Alas I what nedeth man than to be despeired, sith 
 that his mercy is so redy and large? Axe and have. 
 Than cometh sompnolence, that is, sluggy slumbring, 
 which maketh a man hevy, and dull in body and in soule, 
 and this sinne cometh of slouthe: and certes, the time 
 that by way of reson man shuld not slepe, is by the morwe, 
 but if ther were cause resonable. Eor sothly in the morwe 
 tide is most covenable^ to a man to say his prayers, and for 
 to think on God, and to honour God, and to yeve almesse 
 to the poure that comen first in the name of Jesu Crist. 
 Lo, what sayth Salomon ? Who so wol by the morwe 
 awake to seke me, he shal find me. Than cometh negli- 
 gence or recchelesnesse that recketh of nothing. And 
 though that ignorance be mother of all harmes, certes, 
 negligence is the norice. Negligence ne doth no force, 
 whan he shal do a thing, whether he do it wel or badly. 
 
 The remedie of thise two sinnes is, as sayth the wise 
 man, that he that dredeth God, spareth not to do that him 
 ought to do ; and he that loveth God, he wol do diligence 
 to plese God by his werkes, and abandon himself, with all 
 his might, wel for to do. Than cometh idelnesse, that is 
 the yate^ of all harmes. An idel man is like to a place 
 that hath no walles ; theras deviles may enter on every 
 side, or shoot at him at discoverte^ by temptation on every 
 side. This idelnesse is the thurrok^ of all wicked and 
 vilains thoughtes, and of all jangeles, trifles, and all ordure. 
 Certes heven is yeven to hem that will labour, and not to 
 
 1 Fitting. 2 Gate, 
 
 S Uncovered. * Hold, 
 
THE PERSONES TALE. 555 
 
 idel folk. Also David sayth, they ne be not in the labour 
 of men, ne they shul not ben whipped with men, that is 
 to say, in purgatorie. Certes than semeth it they shul 
 ben tormented with the deyil in helle, but if they do 
 penance. 
 
 Than cometh the sinne that men clepen Tarclitas, as 
 whan a man is latered,^ or taryed or he wol tourne to God: 
 and eertes, that is a gret folie. He is like him that falleth - 
 in the diche, and wol not arise. And this vice cometh of 
 false hope, that thinketh that he shal live long, but that hope 
 failleth ful oft. 
 
 Than cometh Lachesse,^ that is, he that whan he begin- 
 neth any good werk, anon he wol forlete it and stint, as 
 don they that have any wight to governe, and ne take of 
 him no more kepe, anon as they find any contrary or any 
 annoy. Thise ben the newe shef)herdes, that let hir shepe 
 wetingly go renne to the wolf, that is in the breres, and 
 do no force of hir owen governance. Of this cometh 
 poverte and destruction, both of spirituel and tempore! 
 thinges. Than cometh a maner coldnesse, that freseth all 
 the herte of man. Than cometh undevotion, thurgh which 
 a man is so blont, as sayth Seint Bernard, and hath swiche 
 langour in his soule, that he may neyther rede ne sing in 
 holy chirche, ne here ne thinke of no devotion, ne travaile 
 with his hondes in no good werk, that it n'is to him 
 unsavory and all apalled. Than wexeth he sluggish and 
 slombry, and sone wol he be wroth, and sone is enclined to 
 hate and to en vie. Than cometh the sinne of worldly sorwe 
 swiche as is cleped Tristitia, that sleth a man, as sayth 
 Seint Poule. Eor certes swiche sorwe werketh to the deth 
 of the soule and of the body also, for therof cometh, that a 
 man is annoied of his owen lif. Wherfore swiche sorwe 
 shorteth the lif of many a man, or that his time is come by 
 way of kinde.^ 
 
 Remedium Accidios, 
 
 Ayenst this horrible sinne of accidie, and the braunches 
 of the same, ther is a vertue that is called fortitiido or 
 strength, that is, an affection, thurgh which a man des- 
 piseth noyous^ thinges. ?rhis vertue is so mighty and so 
 vigorous, that it dare withstond mightily, and wrastle ayenst 
 
 1 Delayed. 2 Slackness. 
 
 3 Nature. ^ Noisome, vexatious. 
 
556 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 the assantes of the devil, and wisely kepe himself fro perileg 
 that ben wicked ; for it enhaunseth and enforceth the sonle, 
 right as accidie abateth and maketh it feble : for this for-' 
 titudo may endure with long sufferance the travailles that 
 ben covenable. 
 
 This vertue hath many spices; the first is cleped mag- 
 nanimitee, that is to say, gret corage. For certes ther 
 behoveth gret corage ayenst accidie, lest that it swalowe 
 the soule by the sinne of sorwe, or destroy it with wan- 
 hope. Certes, this vertue maketh folk to undertake hard 
 and grevous thinges by hir owen will, wisely and resonably. 
 And for as moche as the devil fighteth ayenst man more 
 by queintise^ and sleight than by strength, therfore shal a 
 man withstond him by wit, by reson, and by discretion. 
 Than ben ther the vertues of feith, and hope in God and 
 in his seintes, to acheven and accomplice the good werkes, 
 in the which he purposeth fermely to continue. Than 
 cometh seuretee or sikernesse,^ and that is whan a man ne 
 douteth no travaile in time coming of the good werkes 
 that he hath begonne. Than cometh magnificence, that is to 
 say, whan a man doth and performeth gret werkes of good- 
 nesse, that he hath begonne, and that is the end why that 
 men shuld do good werkes. Tor in the accomplishing of 
 good werkes lieth the gret guerdon. Than is ther con- 
 stance, that is stablenesse of corage, and this shuld be in 
 herte by stedfast feith, and in mouth, and in bering, in 
 chere, and in dede. Eke ther ben mo special remedies 
 ayenst accidie, in divers werkes, and in consideration of 
 the peines of helle and of the joyes of heven, and in trust of 
 the grace of the holy gost, that will yeve him might to 
 performe his good entent. 
 
 De Avaritia, 
 
 After accidie wol I sj)eke of avarice, and of coveitise. Of 
 which sinne Seint Poule sayth : The rote of all harmes is 
 coveitise. For sothly, whan the herte of man is con- 
 founded in itself and troubled, and that the soule hath lost 
 the comfort of God, than seketh he an idel solas-^ of worldly 
 thinges. 
 
 Avarice, after the description of Seint Augustine, is a 
 likerousnesse in herte to have erthly thinges, Som other 
 
 I Stealthiness, craft. 2 Certainty. 3 Solace. 
 
THE PEESONES TALE. 557 
 
 folk sayn, that avarice is for to purchase many erthly 
 thinges, and nothing to yeve to hem that han nede. And 
 iinderstond wel, that avarice standetli not only in land ne 
 catel/ but som time in science and in glorie, and in every 
 maner outrageous thing is avarice. And the difference 
 betwene avarice and coveitise is this : coveitise is for to 
 coveit swiche thinges as thou hast not ; and avarice is to 
 withholde and ke^De swiche thinges as thou hast, without 
 rightful nede. Sothly, this avarice is a sinne that is ful 
 dampnable, for all holy writ curseth it, and speketh ayenst 
 it, for it doth wrong to Jesu Crist ; for it bereveth him the 
 love that men to him owen, and tourneth it backward 
 ayensfc all reson, and maketh that the avaricious man hath 
 more hope in his catel than in Jesu Crist, and doth more 
 observance in keping of his tresour, than he doth in the 
 service of Jesu Crist. And therfore sayth Seint Poul, 
 That an avaricious man is the thraldome of idolatrie. 
 
 What difference is ther betwix an idolastre, and an 
 avaricious man? But that an idolastre pera venture ne 
 hath not but o maumet^ or two, and the avaricious man 
 hath many : for certes, every florein in his coffre is his 
 maumet. And certes, the sinne of maumetrie is the first 
 that God defended^ in the ten commandments, as bereth 
 witnesse, Exod. Cap. xx. Thou shalt have no false goddes 
 before me, ne thou shalt make to thee no graven thing. 
 Thus is an avaricious man, that loveth his tresour before 
 God, an idolastre. And thurgh this cursed sinne of avarice 
 and coveitise cometh thise hard lordships, thurgh which 
 men ben distreined by tallages, customes, and cariages, 
 more than hir dutee or reson is : and eke take they of hir 
 bondmen amercementes/ which might more resonably be 
 called extortions than amercementes. Of which amerce- 
 mentes, or raunsoming of bondmen, som lordes stewardes 
 say, that it is rightful, for as moche as a cherl hath no 
 temporel thing, that it ne is his lordes, as they say. But 
 certes, thise lordshippes don wrong, that bereven hir 
 bondmen thinges that they never yave hem. Augustinus 
 de Civifate Dei, Lihro ix. Soth is, that the condition of 
 thraldom, and the first cause of thraldom was for sinne. 
 Genesis v. 
 
 Thus may ye see, that the gilt deserved thraldom, but 
 not nature. Wherfore thise lordes ne shuld not to moche 
 
 1 Goods. 2 idcL 
 
 3 Forbade. ■* Fines, 
 
558 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 glorifie hem in hir lordshipes, sith that they Tby naturel 
 condition ben not lordes of hir thralles, but that thraldom 
 came first by the deserte of sinne. And furtherover, ther 
 as the lawe sayth, that temporel goodes of bondfolk ben 
 the goodes of hir lord : ye, that is for to imderstond, the 
 goodes of the emperour, to defend hem in hir right, but 
 not to robbe hem ne to reve^ hem. Therfore sayth Seneca: 
 The prudent shuld live benignely with the thral.^ Tho that 
 thou clepest thy thralles, ben Goddes peple : for humble 
 folk ben Cristes irendes ; they ben contubernial with the 
 Lord thy king. 
 
 Thinke also, that of swiche seed as cherles springen, of 
 swiche seed springen lordes : as wel may the cherl be saved 
 as the Lord, The same deth that taketh the cherl, swiche 
 deth taketh the Lord. Wherfore I rede,^ do right so with 
 thy cherl as thou woldest that thy Lord did with thee, ii 
 thou were in his plight. Every sinful man is a cherl to 
 sinne: I rede thee, thou Lord, that thou reule thee in 
 swiche wise, that thy cherles rather love thee than drede 
 thee. I wote wel, that ther is degree above degree, as 
 reson is, and skill is,^ that men do hir devoir, ther as it is 
 due : but certes, extortion, and despit of your underlinges, 
 is dampnable. 
 
 And furthermore understond wel, that thise conqueroures 
 or tyrantes maken ful oft thralles of hem, that ben borne 
 of as royal blood as ben they that hem conqueren. This 
 name of Thraldom was never erst couthe,"^ til that Noe 
 sayd, that his sone Cham shuld be thrall to his brethren 
 for his sinne. What say we than of hem that pille^ and don 
 extortions to holy Chirche ? Certes, the swerd that men 
 yeven first to a knight whan he is newe dubbed, signifieth, 
 that he shuld defend holy Chirche, and not robbe it ne 
 pille it: and who so doth is traitour to Crist. As saith 
 Seint Augustine, Tho ben the devils wolves, that strangelen 
 the shepe of Jesu Crist, and don worse than wolves : for 
 sothly, whan the wolf hath full his wombe, he stinteth to 
 strangle shepe : but sothly, the pillours^ and destroiers of 
 holy Chirches goodes ne do not so, for they ne stint never 
 to pille. Now as I have sayd, sith so is, that sinne was 
 first cause of thraldom, than is it thus, that at the time that 
 
 1 Take away. 2 Slave, servant. 
 
 8 Advise, say. '* It is meet. 
 
 » Kaown. ^ Pillage. 7 Pillagers. 
 
THE PERSONES TALE. 559 
 
 all this world was in sinne, than was all this world in 
 thraldom, and in subjection: but certes, sith the time of 
 grace came, God ordeined, that som folk shuld be more 
 high in estate and in degree, and som folk more lowe, and 
 that everich shuld be served in his estate and his degree. 
 And therfore in som contrees ther as they ben thralles, 
 whan they have tourned hem to the feith, they make hir 
 thralles free out of thraldom : and therfore certes the Lord 
 oweth to his man, that the man oweth to the Lord. The 
 Pope clepeth himself servant of the servants of God. But 
 for as moche as the estate of holy Chirche ne might not 
 have ben, ne the commun profite might not have be kept, 
 ne pees ne rest in erthe, but if God had ordeined^ that som 
 men have higher degree, and som men lower; therfore was 
 soveraintee ordeined to kepe, and mainteine, and defend 
 hire underlinges or hire subjectes in reson, as ferforth as it 
 lieth in hire power, and not to destroy hem ne confound. 
 "Vyherfore I say, that thilke lordes that ben like wolves, 
 that devoure the possessions or the catel of poure folk 
 wrongfully, withouten mercy or mesure, they shul receive 
 by th-e same mesure that they have mesured to poure folk 
 the mercy of Jesu Crist, but they it amende. Now cometh 
 deceit betwix marchant and marchant. And thou shalt 
 understond, that marchandise is in two maners, that on is 
 bodilj^, and that other is gostly : that on is honest and leful,^ 
 and that other is dishonest and unleful. The bodily mar- 
 chandise, that is leful and honest, is this: that ther as God 
 hath ordeined, that a regne or a contree is suffisant to him- 
 self, than it is honest and leful, that of the haboundaunce of 
 this contree men helpe another contree that is nedy : and 
 therfore ther must be marchants to bring fro on contree to 
 another hir marchandise. That other marchandise, that 
 men haunten with fraude, and trecherie, and deceit, with 
 lesinges^ and false othes, is right cursed and dampnable. 
 Spirituel marchandise is proprely simonie, that is, ententiP 
 desire to buy thing spirituel, that is, thing which apper- 
 teineth to the seintuarie'* of God, and to the cure of the 
 soule. This desire, if so be that a man do his diligence to 
 performe it, al be it that his desire ne take non effect, yet 
 it is to him a dedly sinne: and if he be ordered, he is 
 irreguler. Certes simonie is cleped of Simon Magus, that 
 
 1 Lawful. 2 Lies. 
 
 s Intentional. ■* Sanctuar7, holiness. 
 
560 THE CANTERBUEY TALES. 
 
 wold have bought for temporel catel the yefte that God had 
 yeven by the holy gost to Seint Peter, and to the Apostles : 
 and therfore understond ye, that both he that selleth and 
 he that byeth thmges spirituel ben called Simoniackes, be 
 it by catel, be it by procuring, or by fleshly praier of his 
 frendes, fleshly frendes, or spirituel frendes, fleshly in two 
 maners, as by kinrede or other frendes : sothly, if they pray 
 for him that is not worthy and able, it is simonie, if he take 
 the benefice ; and if he be worthy and able, ther is non. 
 That other maner is, whan man, or woman, prayeth for 
 folk to avancen hem only for wicked fleshly affection which 
 they have unto the persons, and that is foule simonie. But 
 certes, in service, for which men yeven thinges sj)irituel 
 unto hir servants, it must be understonde, that the service 
 must be honest, or elles not, and also, that it be without 
 bargaining, and that the person be able. For (as sayth 
 Seint Damascen) all the sinnes of the world, at regard of 
 this sinne, ben as thing of nought, for it is the gretest sinne 
 that may be after the sinne of Lucifer and of Anticrist : for 
 by this sinne God forleseth^ the chirche and the soule, 
 which he bought with his precious blood, by hem that 
 yeven chirches to hem that ben not digne, for they put in 
 theves, that stelen the soules of Jesu Crist, and destroyen 
 his patrimonie. By swiche undigne preestes and curates, 
 han lewed men lesse reverence of the sacramentes of holy 
 chirche : and swiche yevers^ of chirches put the children 
 of Crist out, and put into chirches the divels owen sones : 
 they sellen the soules that lambes shuld kepe to the wolf, 
 which strangleth hem : and therfore shall they never have 
 part of the pasture of lambes, that is, in the blisse of heven. 
 Now Cometh hasardrie^ with his apertenauntes,^ as tables 
 and rafles, of which cometh deceit, false othes, chidings, 
 and all raving, blaspheming, and reneying of God, hate of 
 his neyghbours, wast of goodes, mispending of time, and 
 somtime manslaughter. Certes, hasardours ne mow not be 
 without grete sinne. Of avarice comen eke lesinges, theft, 
 false witnesse, and false othes : and ye shul understonde, 
 that these be gret sinnes, and expresse ayenst the com- 
 mandements of God, as I have sayd. False witnesse is eke 
 in word, and in dede : in word, as for to bereve thy neigh- 
 bours good name by thy false witnesse, or bereve him hia 
 
 1 Entirely loseth. ^ Such givers. 
 
 3 Hazard, ■* Appurtenances. 
 
THE PERSONES TALE. 561 
 
 eatel or his heritage by thy false witnessing, whan thou 
 for ire, or for mede, or for envie, berest false witnesse, or 
 accnsest him, or exciisest thyself falsely. Ware ye quest- 
 mongers^ and notaries: certes, for false witnessing, was 
 Susanna in ful gret sorwe and peine, and many another mo. 
 The sinne of theft is also expresse ayenst Goddes hest, and 
 that in two manors, temporel, and spmtuel : the temporel 
 theft is, as for to take thy neighbours catel ayenst his will, 
 be it by force or by sleight ; be it in meting or mesure ; by 
 steling ; by false enditements upon him ; and in borowing 
 of thy neighbours catel, in entent never to pay it ayen, and 
 semblable thinges. Spirituel theft is sacrilege, that is to 
 say, hurting of holy thinges, or of thinges sacred to Crist, 
 in two maners ; by reson of the holy place, as chirches or 
 chirches hawes f (for every vilains sinne, that men don in 
 swiche places, may be called sacrilege, or every violence in 
 semblable places) also they that withdrawe falsely the 
 rentes and rightes that longen^ to holy chirche ; and plainly 
 and generally, sacrilege is to reve'* holy thing fro holy place, 
 or unholy thing out of holy place, or holy thing out of 
 unholy place. 
 
 RemecUum Avaritice^ 
 
 Kow shul ye understond, that releving^ of avarice is 
 misericorde and pitee largely taken. And men might axe, 
 why that misericorde and pitee are releving of avarice ; 
 certes, the avaricious man sheweth no pitee ne misericorde 
 to the nedeful man. For he deliteth him in the keping of his 
 tresour, and not in the rescouing ne releving of his even*5 
 Cristen. And therfore speke I first of misericorde. Than 
 is misericorde (as sayth the Philosophre) a vertue, by 
 which the corage of man is stirred by the misese^ of him 
 that is misesed. Upon which misericorde foloweth pitee, 
 in performing and fulfilling of charitable werkes of mercie, 
 helping and comforting him that is misesed. And certes, 
 this meveth a man to misericorde of Jesu Crist, that he 
 yave himself for our offence, and suffred deth for miseri- 
 corde, and foryaf us our original sinnes, and therby relesed 
 us fro the peine of hell, and amenused^ the peines of pur- 
 gatory by penitence, and yeveth us grace wel to do, and/^.t 
 
 1 Packers of juries or inquests. ' Churchyards. 
 
 3 Belong. ^ Take. 6 Kelieving. 
 
 « Fellow. 7 Uneasiness, ^ Took away. 
 
5G'I THE CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 last the blisse of heven. The spices of misericorde ben fof 
 to lene,^ and eke for to yeve, and for to foryeve andrelese, 
 and for to have pitee in herte, and compassion of the mis- 
 chefe of his even Cristen, and also to chastise ther as nede 
 is. Another maner of remedy ayenst avarice, is resonable 
 largesse : but sothly, here behoveth the consideration of 
 the grace of Jesu Crist, and of the temporel goodes, and 
 also of the goodes perdurable that Jesu Crist yave to us, 
 and to have remembrance of the deth which he shal 
 receive, he wote not whan : and eke that he shal forgon all 
 that he hath, save only that which he hath dispended in 
 good werkes. 
 
 But for as moche as som folk ben unmesurable, men 
 oughten for to avoid and eschue fool-largesse,^ the whiche 
 men clepen waste. Certes, he that is fool-large, he yeveth 
 not his catel, but he leseth his catel. Sothly, what thing 
 that he yeveth for vaine-glory, as to minstrals, and to folk 
 that bere his renome in the world, he hath do sinne therof, 
 and non almesse : certes, he leseth foule his good, that ne 
 seketh with the yefte^ of his good nothing but sinne. He 
 is like to an hors that seketh rather to drink drovy"^ or 
 troubled water, than for to drink water of the clere well. 
 And for as moche as they yeven ther as^ they shuld nat 
 yeven, to hem apperteineth thilke malison, that Crist shal 
 yeve at the day of dome to hem that shul be dampned. 
 
 De Guld. 
 
 After avarice cometh glotonie, which is expresse ayenst 
 the commandement of God. Glotonie is unmesurable 
 appetit to ete or to drinke : or elles to do in ought to the 
 unmesurable appetit and disordeined coveitise to ete or 
 drinke. This sinne corrupted all this world, as is wel 
 shewed in the sinne of Adam and of Eve. Loke also what 
 sayth Seint Poule of glotonie. Many (sayth he) gon, of 
 which I have ofte said to you, and now I say it weping, 
 that they ben the enemies of the crosse of Crist, of which 
 the end is deth, and of which hir wombe" is hir God and 
 hir glorie; in confusion of hem that so serven erthly 
 thinges. He that is usant-^ to this sinne of glotonie, he ne 
 may no sinne withstond, he must be in servage of all vices, 
 
 1 Lend, 2 Foolish liberality. 
 
 3 Gift. 4 Dirty. 5 Give where. 
 
 « Belly. 7 Accustomed, given. 
 
THE PERSONES TALE. 063 
 
 for it is the devils horde, ther he hideth him and resteth. 
 This sinne hath many spices. The first is dronkennesse, 
 that is the horrible sepulture of mannes reson : and ther- 
 fore whan a man is dronke, he hath lost his reson : and 
 this is dedly sinne. But sothly, whan that a man is not 
 wont^ to strong drinkes, and peraventure ne knoweth not 
 the strength of the drinke, or hath feblenesse in his hed, or 
 hath travailled, thurgh which he drinketh the more, al be 
 he sodenly caught with drinke, it is no dedly sinne, but 
 venial. The second spice of glotonie is, that the spirit of 
 a man wexeth all trouble for dronkennesse, and bereveth a 
 man the discretion of his wit. The thridde spice of glotonie 
 is, whan a man devoiu-eth his mete, and hath not rightful 
 maner of eting. The fourthe is, whan thurgh the gret 
 abundance of his mete, the humours in his body ben dis- 
 tempered. The fifthe is, foryetfulnesse by to moche drink- 
 ing, for which somtime a ma,n forgeteth by the morwe, what 
 he did over eve. 
 
 In other maner ben distinct the spices of glotonie, after 
 Seint Gregorie. The first is, for to ete before time. The 
 second is, whan a man geteth him to delicat mete or drinke. 
 The thridde is, whan men taken to moche over mesure. 
 The fourth is curiositee,^ with gret entent to maken and 
 appareille his mete. The fifth is, for to ete gredily. Thise 
 ben the five fingers of the devils hond, by which he draweth 
 folk to the sinne. 
 
 Remedium Gulce. 
 
 Ayenst glotonie the remedie is abstinence, as sayth 
 G alien :3 but that I holde not meritorie, if he do it only for 
 the hele of his body. Seint Augustine wol that abstinence 
 be don for vertue, and with patience. Abstinence (sayth 
 he) is litel worth, but if a man have good will therto, and 
 but it be enforced by patience and charitee, and that men 
 don it for Goddes sake, and in hope to have the blisse in 
 heven. 
 
 The felawes of abstinence ben attemperance, that holdeth 
 the mene in alle thinges ; also shame, that escheweth all 
 dishonestee; suffisance, that seketh no riche metes ne 
 drinkes, ne doth no force of non outrageous appareilling of 
 mete ; mesure also, that restreineth by reson the unmesiu*- 
 
 1 Accustomed. 
 2 I.e., over delicacy, a taste for rarities and dainty decoration of the 
 table. 3 Galen. 
 
 48 
 
564 THE CANTERBUKY TALES. 
 
 •able appetit oi eting : sobernesse also, that restremeth tlie 
 outrage of drinke ; sparing also, that restreineth the delicat 
 €se, to sit long at mete, wherfore som lolk standen of hir 
 owen will whan they ete, because thej wol ete at lesse 
 ieiser* 
 
 D^ Ziixurid, 
 
 After glotonie Cometh leclierie, for thise two sinnes ben 
 so nigh cosins, that oft time they wol not de23art. God 
 wote this sinne is ful displesant to God, for he said himself; 
 Do no leclierie. And therfore he putteth gret peine ayenst 
 this sinne. For in the old lawe, if a, woman thralP were 
 taken in this sinne, she shuld be beten with staves to the 
 deth : and if vshe were a gentilwoman, she shuld be slain 
 with stones : and if she were a bishoppes doughter, she 
 shuld be brent by Goddes commandement. Moreover, for 
 the sinne of lecherie God dreint all the world, and after 
 that he brent five citees with thonder and lightning, and 
 sanke hem doun into hell. 
 
 Now let us speke than of the said stinking sinne of 
 lecherie, that men clepen avoutrie,^ that is of wedded folk, 
 that is to say, if that on of hem be wedded, or elles both^ 
 Seint John sayth. That avouterers shul ben in helle in a 
 stacke brenning of fire and of brimstone, in fire for hir 
 lecherie, in brimstone for the stenche of hir ordure. Certes 
 the breking of this sacrament is an horrible thing : it was 
 made of God himself in Paradis, and confermed by Jesu 
 Crist, as witnesseth Seint Mathew in the Gospel : a man 
 shal let fader and moder, and take him to his wif, and 
 they f hal be two in on flesh. This sacrament betokeneth 
 the knitting together of Crist and holy chirche. And not 
 only that God forbade avoutrie in dede, but also he com- 
 manded, that thou shuldest not coveit thy neighboures 
 wif. In this heste (sayth Seint Augustine) is forboden all 
 maner coveitise to do lecherie. Lo, what sayth Seint 
 Mathew in the Gospel, That who so seeth a woman, to 
 coveitise of his lust, he hath don lecherie with hire in his 
 herte. Here may ye see, that not only the dede of thia 
 sin is forboden, but eke the desire to don that sinne. 
 This cursed sinne annoyeth grevously hem that it haunt : 
 and first to the soule, for he obligeth it to sinne and to 
 peine of deth, which is perdurable ; and to the body 
 
 ^ Slave. 2 Adultery. 
 
THE PERSONES TALE. 565 
 
 annoyeth it grevonsly also, for it drieth him and wastetli, 
 and shent^ him, and of his blood he maketh sacrifice to the 
 fend of helle : it wasteth eke his catel and his substance. 
 And certes, if it be a foule thing a man to waste his catel 
 on women, yet is it a fouler thing, whan that for swiche 
 ordure women dispenden upon men hir catel and hir sub- 
 stance. This sinne, as sayth the Prophet, bereveth man 
 and woman hir good fame and all hir honour, and it is ful 
 plesant to the devil : for therby winneth he the moste 
 partie of this wretched world. And right as a marchant 
 deliteth him most in that chafiare- which he hath most 
 avantage and profits of, right so deliteth the fend in this 
 ordure. 
 
 This is that other hond of the devil, with five fingers, to 
 cacche the peple to his vilanie. The first fingre is the 
 foole loking of the foole woman and of the foole man, that 
 sleth right as the Basilicok^ sleth folk by venime of his 
 sight : for the coveitise of the eyen foloweth the coveitise 
 of the herte. The second fingre is the vilains touching in 
 wicked manor. And therfore sayth Salomon, that who so 
 toucheth and handleth a woman, he fareth as the man 
 that handleth the scorpion, which stingeth and sodenly 
 sleth thurgh his enveniming ; or as who so that toucheth 
 warme pitch it shendeth his fingers. The thridde is foule 
 wordes, which fareth like fire, which right anon brenneth 
 the herte. The fourth finger is kissing: and trewely he 
 were a gret foole that wold kisse the mouthe of a brenning 
 oven or of a fourueis ; and more fooles ben they that 
 kissen in vilainie, for that mouth is the mouth of helle ; 
 and namely thise olde dotarde holours, which wol kisse, 
 and flicker, and besie hemself, though they may nought 
 do. Certes they ben like to houndes: for an hound whan 
 he cometh by the roser, or by other bushes, though so be 
 that he may not pisse, yet wol he heve up his leg and make 
 a contenance to pisse. And for that many man weneth 
 that he may not sinne for no likerousnesse that he doth 
 with his wif, trewely that opinion is false : Godwoteaman 
 may slee himself with his owen knif, and make himself 
 dronken of his owen tonne. Certes be it wif, be it childe, 
 or any worldly thing, that he loveth before God, it is his 
 maumet,'' and he is an idolastre. A man shuld love his wif 
 
 1 Euineth. 2 Merchandize. 
 
 * Basilisk. * Idol. 
 
566 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 by discretion, patiently and attemprely, and than is she as 
 though it were his suster. The fifth fingre of the diveJs 
 hond, is the stinking dede of lecherie. Trewely the five 
 fingers of glotonie the fend putteth in the wombe of a 
 man : and with his five fingers of lecherie he gripeth him. 
 by the reines, for to throwe him into the fourneis of helle, 
 ther as they shul have the fire and the wormes that ever 
 shul lasten, and weping and wayling, and sharpe hunger 
 and thurst, and grislinesse of divels, whiche shul all-to-trede 
 hem withouten respite and withouten ende. Of lecherie, as 
 I sayd, sourden and springen divers spices : as fornication, 
 that i-s betwene man and woman which ben not marled, 
 and is dedly sinne, and ayenst nature. All that is enemy 
 and destruction to nature, is ayenst nature. Parfay the 
 reson of a man eke telleth him wel that it is dedly sinne ; 
 for as moche as God forbad lecherie. And Seint Poule 
 yeveth hem the regne, that n'is dewe to no wight but to 
 hem that don dedely sinne. Another sinne of lecherie is, 
 to bereven a maid of hire maidenhed, for he that so doth, 
 certes he casteth a mayden out of the highest degree that 
 is in this present lif, and bereveth hire thilke precious 
 fruit that the book clepeth the hundreth fruit. I ne can 
 say it non otherwise in English, but in Latine it hight 
 Centesimus fructiis. Certes he that so doth, is the cause 
 of many damages and vilanies, mo than any man can 
 reken : right as he somtime is cause of all dammages that 
 bestes do in the feld, that breketh the hedge of the 
 closure, thurgh which he destroyeth that may not be 
 restored : for certes no more may maidenhed be restored, 
 than an arme, that is smitten fro the body, may returne 
 ayen^ and wexe: she may have mercy, this wote I wel, 
 if that she have will to do penitence, but never shal 
 it be but that she is corrupte. And all be it so that I 
 hav'e spoke somwhat of avoutrie, it is good to she we the 
 periles that longen to avoutrie, for to eschewe that foule 
 sinne. Avoutrie, in Latine, is for to saye, approching of 
 another mannes bedde, thurgh whiche tho, that somtime 
 were on^ fleshe, abandone hir bodies to other persons. Of 
 this sinne, as sayth the wise man, folow many harmes: 
 firste breking of feith ; and certes feith is the key of Cris- 
 tendom, and whan that key is broken and lorne, sothly 
 Cristendom is lorne, and stont^ vaine and without fruit. 
 
 1 Again. 2 One. 3 Standeth. 
 
THE PERSONES TALE. 6G7 
 
 This sinne also is theft, for theft generally is to reve^ a 
 wight his thinges ayenst his will. Cartes, this is the 
 foulest theft that may be, whan that a woman steleth hire 
 body from hire husbond, and yeveth it to hire holour to 
 defoule it : and steleth hire soule fro Crist, and yeveth it 
 to the devil : this is a fouler thefte than for to breke a 
 chirche and stele away the chalice, for thise avouterers 
 breken the temple of God spirituelly, and stelen the vessell 
 of grace ; that is the body and the soule : for which Criste 
 shal destroy hem, as sayth Seint Poule. Sothly of thia 
 theft douted gretly Joseph, whan that his Lordes wif 
 prayed him of vilainie, whan he sayde : Lo, my Lady, how 
 my Lord hath take to me under my warde^ all that he 
 hath in this world, ne nothing is out of my power, but 
 only ye that ben his wif: and how shuld I than do this 
 wickednesse, and sinne so horribly ayenst God, and ayenst 
 my Lord] God it forbede. Alas! all to litel is swiche 
 trouth no-v^ yfounde. The thridde harme is the filth, 
 thurgh which they breke the commandement of God, and 
 defoule the auter of matrimonies, that is Crist. For 
 certes, in so moche as the sacrament of mariage is so noble 
 and so digne, so moche is it the greter sinne for to breke 
 it : for God made mariage in Paradis in the estate of inno- 
 cencie, to multiplie mankinde to the service of God, and 
 therfore is the breking therof the more grevous, of which 
 breking come false heu'es oft time, that wrongfully occu- 
 pien folkes heritages: and therfore wol Crist put hem 
 out of the regno of heven, that is heritage to good folk. 
 Of this breking cometh eke oft time, that folk vmware 
 wedde or sinne with hir owen kinrede : and namely thise 
 harlottes, that haunten bordellos of thise foule women, that 
 may be likened to a commune gong,^ wheras men purge 
 hir ordure. What say we also of putours,^ that live 
 by the horrible sinne of puterie, and constreine women 
 to yelde hem a certain rent of hir bodily puterie, ye, 
 somtime his owen wif or his childe, as don thise baudes 1 
 certes, thise ben cursed sinnes. Understond also, that 
 avoutrie is set in the ten commandements betwene theft 
 and manslaughter, for it is the gretest theft that may 
 be, for it is theft of body and of soule, and it is like 
 to homicide, for it kerveth^ atwo and breketh atwo 
 
 1 Deprive oi. 2 placed under my care. 
 
 ^ A Jakes. * Whoremongers. ^ Cutteth. 
 
5S8 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 hem that first were made on flesli. And tlierfore by 
 the old lawe of God they shuld be slaine, but nathe- 
 lesse, by the lawe of Jesu Crist, that is the lawe of 
 pitee, whan he sayd to the woman that was found in 
 avoutrie, and shuld have be slain with stones, after the will 
 of the Jewes, as was hir lawe ; Go, sayd Jesu Crist, and 
 have no more will to do sinne ; sothly, the vengeance of 
 avoutrie is awarded to the peine of helle, but if so be that 
 it be discombered by penitence. Yet ben ther mo spices 
 of this cursed sinne, as whan that on of hem is religious, 
 or elles both, or of folk that ben entred into ordre, as sub- 
 deken, deken, or preest, or hospitalers : and ever the higher 
 that he is in ordre, the greter is the sinne. The thinges 
 that gretly agrege^ hir sinne, is the breking of hir avow of 
 ehastitee, whan they received the ordre: and moreover 
 soth is, that holy ordre is chefe of all the tresorie of God, 
 and is a special signe and marke of ehastitee, to shew that 
 they ben joined to ehastitee, which is the moste precious 
 life that is: and thise ordered- folk ben specially titled to 
 God, and of the special meinie of God : for which, whan 
 they don dedly sinne, they ben the special traitours of 
 God and of his peple, for they live by the peple to praye 
 for the peple, and whiles they ben swiche traitours hir 
 prayeres availe not to the peple. Preestes ben as angels, 
 as by the mysterie of hir dignitee : but forsoth Seint Poule 
 saith, That Sathanas transfourmeth him in an angel of 
 light. Sothly, the preest that haunteth dedly sinne, he 
 may be likened to an angel of derkenesse, transfourmed 
 into an angel of light : he semeth an angel of light, but for 
 soth he is an angel of derkenesse. Swiche preestes be the 
 sones of Hely, as is shewed in the book of Kinges, that they 
 were the sones of Belial, that is, the divel. Belial is to say, 
 withouten juge, and so far en they ; hem thinketh that they 
 be free, and have no juge, no more than hath a free boll, 
 that taketh which cow that him liketh in the toim. So 
 faren they by women ; for right as on free bollisynoughforall 
 atoun,right s» is a wicked preest corruption ynough for all 
 a parish, or for all a countree : thise preestes, as sayth the 
 book, ne cannot minister the mysterie of preesthood to the 
 peple, ne they knowe not God, ne they hold hem not 
 apaied,^ as saith the book, of sodden flesh that was to hem 
 Dffred, but they take by force the flesh that is raw. Certes, 
 
 1 Increase. 2 in orders, ordained, ^ Satisfied. 
 
THE ferso:nes tale. 5'69 
 
 *iglit so tMse shrewes ne hold hem not apaied of rosted 
 flesh and sodden, with which the peple feden hem in gret 
 reverence, but they wol have raw flesh as folkes wives and 
 hir doughters : and certes, thise women that consenten to 
 hir harlotrie, don gret wrong to Crist and to holy Chirche, 
 and to all Halowes, and to all Soules, for they ber.even all 
 thise hem that shuld worship Crist and holy Chirche, and 
 pray for Cristen soules; and therfore han swiche preestes, 
 and hir lemmans also that consenten to hir lecherie, the 
 malison of the court Cristen, til they come to amende tnent. 
 The thridde spice of avoutrie is somtime betwix a man and 
 his wif, and that is, whan they take no regard in hir 
 assembling but only to hir fleshly delit, as saith Seint 
 Jerome, and ne recken of nothing but that they ben 
 assembled because they ben maried ; all is good ynough, 
 as thinketh to hem. But in swiche folk hath the divel 
 power, as said the angel Eaphael to Tobie, for in hir 
 assembling, they putten Jesu Crist out of hu* herte, and 
 yeven hemself to all ordure. The fourth spice is of hem 
 that assemble with hir kim^ede, or with hem that ben of 
 on affinitee, or elles with hem with which hir fathers or hir 
 kinred have deled in the sinne of lecherie: this sinne 
 maketh hem like to houndes, that taken no kepe of kin- 
 rede. And certes, parentele^ is in two maners: eyther 
 gostly or fleshly : gostly, is for to delen with hir godsibbes :^ 
 for right so ^s he that engendreth a child, is his fleshly 
 father, right so is his godfather his father spirituel : for 
 which a Avoman may in no lesse sinne assemble with hire 
 godsib, than with hir owen fleshly broder. The fifthe 
 ^pice is that abhominable sinne, of which abhominable 
 sinne no man mmeth ought to speke ne write, natheles it 
 is openly rehersed in holy writ. This cm-sednesse don men 
 and women in diverse entent and in diverse maner : but 
 though that holy writ speke of horrible sinne, certes holy 
 writ may not be defouled, no more than the sOnne that 
 shineth on the myxene.^ Another sinne apperteineth to 
 lecherie, that cometh in sleping, and this sinne cometh often 
 to hem that ben maidens, and eke to hem tiat ben corrupt ; 
 and this sinne men call pollution, that cometh of foure 
 maners ; somtime it cometh of languishing of the body, for 
 the humours ben to ranke and haboundant in the body of 
 
 • Parentage. * Gossip, i.e., godfather or mother. 
 
 3 Dunghill. 
 
570 THE CATH^ERBUKY TALES'^ 
 
 man; somtime of infirmitee, for feblenesse of tlie vertrte' 
 retentil'^ as phisike maketli mention ; somtime of surfet of 
 mete and drinke ; and somtime of vilains thouglites that 
 ben enclosed in mannes minde whan he goth to slepe, 
 which may not be withouien sinne ; for whiche men must 
 kepe hem wisely,, or elles may they sinne ful grevously. 
 
 Remedium Liixufioe. 
 
 N'ow eometh the remedy ayenst lecherie, and that i» 
 generally chastitee and continence, that restreineth all 
 disordinate mevings that comen of fleshly talents: and 
 ever the greter merite shal he have that most restreineth 
 the wicked enchaufing or ardure of this sinne ; and this is 
 in two maners : that is to say, chastitee in mariage, and 
 chastitee in widowhood. Now shalt thou tinderstonde, that 
 matrimony is leful assembling of man and woman, that 
 receiven by vertue of this sacrement the bonde, thurgh 
 whiche they may not be departed^ in all hir lif, that is to 
 say, while that they live bothe. This, as. saith the book, 
 is a ful gi'-et sacrement; God made it (as I have said) 
 in paradis, and wold himself be borne in mariage: and for 
 to halowe mariage he was at a wedding, wheras^ he 
 tourned water into wine, whiche was the first miracle 
 that he wrought in erthe before his disciples. The trewe 
 ejffect of mariage clenseth fornication, and replenisheth 
 holy chirche of good lignage, for that is the ende of ma~ 
 riage, and chaungeth dedly sinne into venial sinne betwene 
 hem that ben v/edded, and maketh the hertes all on of hem 
 that ben ywedded, as wel as the bodies. This is veray 
 mariage that was established by God, er that sinne began,, 
 whan naturel lawe was in his right point in paradis ; and 
 it was ordeined, that o man shuld have but o woman, and 
 o woman but o man^ as sayth Seint Augustine, by many 
 resons. 
 
 First, for mariage is figured betwis Crist and holy chirche ; 
 and another is, for a man is hed of the woman ; (algate by 
 ordinance it shuld be so ;) for if a woman had mo men than 
 on, than shuld she have mo hedes than on, and that were 
 an horrible thing before God ; and also a woman mighte 
 not plese many folk at ones : and also ther shuld never be 
 pees ne rest among hem, for everich of hem wold axe his 
 
 1 Separated. 2 At which.. 
 
THE PERSONES TALE. 571 
 
 owen rigtt. And furthermore, no man sliuld knowe his 
 owen engendrure, ne who shuld have his heritage, and the 
 woman shuld be the lesse beloved for the time that she were 
 conjunct to many men. 
 
 Now Cometh how that a man shuld here him with his 
 wif, and namely in two thinges, that is to say, in suffrance 
 and in reverence, and this shewed Crist whan he firste made 
 woman. For he ne made hire of the hed of Adam, for she 
 shuld not claime to gret lordshippe ; for ther as the woman 
 hath the maistrie, she maketh to moche disarray : ther nede 
 non ensamples of this, the experience that we have day by 
 day ought ynough suffice. Also certes, God ne made not 
 woman of the foot of Adam, for she shuld not be holden 
 to lowe, for she cannot patiently suffer : but God made 
 woman of the rib of Adam, for woman shuld be felaw iinto 
 man. Man shuld here him to his wif in feith, in trouth, 
 and in love ; as sayth Seint Poule, that a man shuld love 
 his wifj as Crist loved holy chirche, that loved it so wel 
 that he died for it: so shuld a man for his wif, if it were 
 nede. 
 
 Now how that a woman shuld be subget to hire husbond, 
 that telleth Seint Peter ; first in obedience. And. eke as 
 sayth the decree, a woman that is a wif, as long as she is a 
 wif, she hath non auctoritee to swere ne here witnesse, with- 
 out leve of hire husbonde, that is hire lord ; algate he shuld 
 ^e so by reson. She shuld also serve him in all honestee, 
 and ben attempre of hire array. I wete wel that they 
 .shuld set hir entent to plese hir husbonds, but not by 
 queintise of hir array. Seint Jerom sayth : wives that ben 
 ap23areilled in silke and precious purj)le, ne mow not cloth 
 hem in Jesu Crist Seint Gregorie sayth also : that no 
 wight seketh precious array, but only for vain glorie to be 
 honoured the more of the peple. It is a gret folic, a woman 
 to have a faire array outward, and hireself to be foule 
 inward. A wif shuld also be mesurable in loking, in 
 bering, and in laughing, and discrete in all hire wordes 
 and hire' dedes, and above all worldly thinges, she shulde 
 love hire husbonde with all hire herte, and to him be trewe 
 of hire body : so shuld every husbond eke be trewe to his 
 wif: for sith that all the body is the husbondes, so shuld 
 hire herte be also, or elles ther is betwix hem two, as in 
 that, no parfit mariage. Than shul men understond, that 
 for three thinges a man and his wif fleshly may assemble. 
 The first is, for the entent of engendrure of children, to the 
 
572 THE CANTERBURY TALE& 
 
 service of God, for certes that is the cause final of matrix 
 monie. Another cause is, to yelde eche of hem to other 
 the dettes of hir bodies : for ney ther of hem hath power oi 
 his owen bodie. The thridde is, for to eschew lecherie and 
 vHanie. The foiirth is for soth dedly sinne. As to the 
 first, it is meritorie : the second also, for, as sayth the decree, 
 she hath merite of chastitee, that yeldeth to hire husbond 
 the dette of hire body, ye though it be ayenst hire liking, 
 and the lust of hire herte. The thridde maner is venial 
 sinne ; trewely, scarsely may any of thise be without venial 
 sinne, for the corruption and for the delit therof. The 
 fourth maner is for to understond, if they assemble only for 
 amourous lovo, and for non of the foresaid causes, but for 
 to accomplish hir brenning delit, they recke not how oft,, 
 sothly it is dedly sinne : and yet, with sorwe, som folk wol 
 peine hem more to do, than to hir appetit sufficeth. 
 
 The second manor of chastitee is for to be a clene widow, 
 and eschue the embracing of a man, and desire the em- 
 bracing of Jesu Crist. Thise ben tho that have ben wives, 
 and have forgon hir husbondes, and eke women that havo 
 don lecherie, and ben releved by penance. And certes, if 
 that a wif coud kepe hire all chast, by licence of hire hus- 
 bond, so that she yave no cause no non occasion that he 
 agilted, it were to hire a gret merite. This maner of 
 women, that observen chastitee, must be elene in herte a» 
 wel as in body, and in thought, and mesurable in clothing 
 and in contenance, abstinent in eting and drinking, in 
 speking, and in dede, and than is she the vessel or the 
 boiste^ of the blessed Magdeleine, that fulfilleth holy 
 chirche of good odour. The thridde maner of chastitee is. 
 virginitee, and it behoveth that she be holy in hette, and 
 clene of body, than is she the spouse of Jesu Crist, and she 
 is the lif of angels : she is the preising of this world, and 
 she Ls as thise martii'S in egalitee:^ she hath in hire, that 
 tonge may not telle, ne herte thinke. Yirginitee bare our 
 Lord Jesu Crist, and virgin was himself. 
 
 Another remedie against lecherie is specially to withdraw 
 swiche thinges, as yeven occasion to that vilanie : as ese, 
 eting, and drinking: for certes, whan the pot boileth 
 strongly, the best remedie is to withdraw the fire, Slepin^j 
 long in gret quiet is also a gret nourice to lecherie. 
 
 Another remedie ayenst lecherie is, that a man or & 
 
 I Box.. 5 Hquality^ station.. 
 
THE PERSONES TALE. S73 
 
 wotnati escliewe tlie compagnie of liem, hj which he douteth 
 to be tempted : for all be it so that the dede be withstonden, 
 yet is ther gret temptation, Sothly a white wall, although 
 it ne brenne not fully with sticking of a candle, yet is the 
 w^all black of the leyte. Ful oft time I rede, that no man 
 trust in his owen perfection, bat he be stronger than Samp- 
 son, or holier than David, or wiser than Salomon. 
 
 Now after that I have declared you as I can of the 
 seven dedly sinnes, and som of hir braunches, and the 
 remedies, sothly, if I coude, I wold tell you the ten com- 
 mandements, but so high doctrine I lete to divines.^ 
 Natheles, I hope to God they ben touched in this tretise 
 everich of hem alle. 
 
 Now for as moche as the second part of penitence stont 
 In confession of mouth, as I began in the first chapitre, I 
 say Seint Augustine saith : Sinne is every word and every 
 dede, and all that men coveiten ayenst the law of Jesu 
 Crist ; and this is for to sinne, in herte, in mouth, and in 
 dede, by the fi.ve wittes, which ben sight, hering, smelling, 
 tasting or savouring, and feling. Now is it g«od to under- 
 stond the circumstances, that agregen- moche every sinne. 
 Thou shalt consider what thou art that dost the sinne, 
 whether thou be male or female, yonge or olde, gentil or 
 thrall, free or servant, hole or sike, wedded or single, or- 
 dered or unordered, wise or foole, clerk or seculer; if she 
 be of thy kinred, bodily or gostly, or non; if any of thy 
 kinred have sinned with hire or no, and many mo thinges. 
 
 Another circumstaunce is this, whether it be don in 
 fornication, or in advoutrie, or no, in maner of homicide or 
 non, a horrible gret sinne or smal, and how long thou hast 
 continued in sinne. The thridde circumstance is the place, 
 
 1 See before, vs. 17oG6-7l. *« The exposition 0f this — I betake to the 
 maisters of Theologie." The secular clergy, in the time of Chaucer, 
 being generally very ignorant, it would not have been in character, I 
 suppose, to represent the Perjone as a deep divine, though a very pious, 
 worthy Priest. The Frere, whose brethren had the largest share of the 
 learning which was then in fashion, is made to speak with great con- 
 tempt of the Parochial Pastors, ver. 7590. 
 
 "This every lewed Vicar and Person 
 Can say, &c." 
 And yet in the Person's Character, ver. 402, we are told, that — 
 
 *' He was also a lerned man, a clerk.*' 
 It may be doubted therefore, whether in these passages Chaucer may 
 not speak for himself, forgetting or neglecting the character of the real 
 speaker.— r?/rii7ii«. 2 increase. 
 
574 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 ther thou hast don sinne, whethei^ in other mennes houses, 
 or in thin owen, in feld, in chirche, or in chirchhawe, m 
 chirche dedicate, or non. For if the chirche be halowed, 
 and man or woman spille^ his kinde within that place, by 
 way of sinne or by wicked temptation, the chirche. were 
 enterdited^ til it were reconciled by the Bishop ; and if it 
 were a preest that did swiche vilanie, the terme of all his 
 lif he shuld no more sing Masse : and if he did, he shuld 
 do dedly sinne, at every time that he so song Masse. 
 The fourth circumstance is, by whiche mediatours, as by 
 messagers, or for enticement, or for consentment, to here 
 compagnie with felawship; for many a wretch e, for to here 
 felawship, wol go to the divel of helle. Wherfbre, they 
 that eggen^ or consenten to the sinne, ben partners of the 
 sinne, and of the dampnation of the sinner. The fifth cir- 
 cumstance is, how many times that he hath sinned, if it be 
 in his minde, and how oft he hath fallen. Tor he that oft 
 falleth in sinne, he despiseth the mercy of God, and en- 
 creseth his sinne, and is unkind to Crist, and he waxeth 
 the more feble to withstand sinne, and sinneth the more 
 lightly, and the later ariseth, and is more slow to shrive 
 him, and namely* to him that hath ben his confess©ur. 
 For which that folk, whan they fall ayen to hir old folies, 
 either they forleten hir old confessour al titterly, or elles 
 they departen^ hir shrift in divers places: but sothly 
 swiche departed shrift deserveth no mercie of God for hir 
 sinnes. The sixte circumstance is, why that a man sinneth, 
 as by what temptation; and if himself procure thilke 
 temptation, or by exciting of other folk ; or if he sinne with 
 a woman by force or by hire owen assent ; or if the woman 
 maugre hire hed have ben enforced or non, this shal she 
 tell, and wheder it were for covetise or poverte, and if it 
 were by hire procuring or non, and swiche other thinges. 
 The seventh circumstance is, in what manor he hath don 
 his sinne, or how that she hath suffered that folk have don 
 to hire. And the same shal the man tell plainly, with all 
 the circumstances, and wheder he hath sinned with commun 
 bordel women or non, or don his sinne in holy times or 
 non, in fasting times or non, or before his shrift, or after his 
 later shrift, and hath i)era venture broken therby his pe- 
 nance enjoined, by whos helpe or whos conseil, hy sorcerie 
 
 1 Ruin. 2 Interdicted. 3 ^gg on, encourage. 
 
 * More especially. * Divide. 
 
THE PEESONES TALE. 675 
 
 or crafte, all must be told. All tliise tliinges, after that 
 they ben gret or smale, engreggeu^ the conscience of man 
 or woman. And eke the preest that is thy juge, may the 
 better be avised of his jugement in yeving of penance, and 
 that shal be after thy contrition. For understond wel, 
 that after the time that a man hath defouled his baptisme 
 by sinne, if he wol come to salvation, ther is non other way 
 but by penance, and shrifte, and satisfaction ; and namely 
 by tho two, if ther be a confessour to whom he may shrive 
 him, and that he first be veray contrite and repentant; and 
 the thridde if he have lif to performe it. 
 
 Than shal a man loke and consider, that if he wol make 
 a trewe and a profitable confession, ther must be foure 
 conditions. First it must be in sorowful bitternesse of 
 herte, as sayth the King Ezechiel to God ; I wol remem- 
 ber all the yeres of my lif in the bitternesse of my herte. 
 This condition of bitternesse hath five signes ; The first is, 
 that confession must be shamefast, not for to coveren ne 
 hide his sinne, but for he hath agilted his God and de- 
 fouled his soule. And hereof sayth Seint Aug-ustin : the 
 herte travaileth for shame of his sinne, and for he hath 
 gret shamfastnesse he is digne to have gretmercie of God. 
 Swiche was the confession of the Publican, that wold not 
 heve up his eyen to heven for he had oifended God of 
 heven : for which shamefastnesse he had anon the mercy of 
 God. And therfore saith Seint Augustine : That swiche 
 shamefast folk ben next foryevenesse and mercy. Another 
 signe, is humilitee in confession: of whiche sayth Seint ■ 
 Peter ; Humbleth you under the might of God : the bond 
 of God is mighty in confession, for therby God foryeveth 
 thee thy sinnes, for he alone hath the power. And this 
 humilitee shal be in herte, and in signe outwarde : for right 
 as he hath humilitee to God in his herte, right so sliuld he 
 humble his body outward to the preest, that sitteth in 
 Goddes place. For which in no maner, sith that Crist is 
 soveraine, and the preest mene and mediatour betv/ix 
 Crist and the sinner, and the sinner is last by way of 
 reson, than shuld not the sinner sitte as high as his con- 
 fessour, but knele before him or at his feet, but if maladie 
 distrouble it : for he shal not ta,ke kepe who sitteth ther, 
 but in whos place he sitteth. A man that hath trespassed 
 to a Lord, and cometh for to axe mercie and maken liis 
 
 1 Aggravate. 
 
576 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 accorde, and setteth him doun anon by the Lord, men 
 wolde holde him outrageous, and not worthy so sone for 
 to have remission ne mercy. The thridde signe is, that the 
 shrift shuld be ful of teres, if men mowen wepe, and if they 
 mo we not wepe with hir bodily eyen, than let hem wepe in 
 hir herte. Swiche was the confession of Seint Peter; for 
 after that he had forsake Jesu Crist, he went out and wept 
 ful bitterly. The fourth signe is, that he ne lete not for 
 shame to shrive him and shewe his confession. Swiche was 
 the confession of Magdeleine, that ne spared, for no shame 
 of hem that weren at the feste, to go to our Lord Jesu 
 Crist and beknowe to him hire sinnes. The fifthe signe is, 
 that a man or a woman be obeisant to receive the penance 
 that hem is enjoined. For certes Jesu Crist for the gilt 
 of man was obedient to the deth. 
 
 The second condition of veray confession is, that it be 
 hastily don : for certes, if a man hadde a dedly wound, ever 
 the lenger that he taried to warishe^ himself, the more 
 wold it corrupt and haste him to his deth, and also the 
 wound wold be the werse for to hele. And right so fareth 
 sinne, that longe time is in a man unshewed.^ Certes a 
 man ought hastily to shewe his sinnes for many causes ; as 
 for drede of deth, that cometh oft sodenly, and is in no 
 certain what time it shal be, ne in what j)lace ; and eke the 
 drenching of o sinne draweth in another: and also the 
 lenger that he tarieth, the ferther is he fro Crist. And if 
 he abide to his last day, scarcely may he shrive him or 
 remembre him of his sinnes, or repent him for the grevous 
 maladie of his deth. And for as moche as he ne hath in 
 his lif herkened Jesu Crist, whan he hath spoken unto him, 
 he shal crie unto our Lord at his last day, and scarcely wol 
 he herken him. And understonde that this condition muste 
 have foure thinges. First that the shrift be purveyed^ 
 afore, and avised, for wicked hast doth not profite ; and 
 that a man con shrive him of his sinnes, be it of pride, or 
 envie, and so forth, with the spices and circumstances; 
 and that he have comprehended in his minde the nombre 
 and the gretnesse of his sinnes, and how longe he hath lien 
 in sinne ; and eke that he be contrite for his sinnes, and be 
 in stedfast purpose (by the grace of God) never efte"^ to 
 fall into sinne ; and also that he dredc^ and countrewaite^ 
 
 1 Heal. 2 Unconfessed. ^ Foreseen. 
 
 4 After. 5 Doubt. 6 Controvert. 
 
THE PERSONES TALE. 577 
 
 himself, that he flee the occasions of sinne, to whiche he is 
 inclined. Also thou shalt shrive thee of all thy sinnes to o 
 man, and not parcelraele^ to o man, and parcehnele to an- 
 other ; that is to understonde, in entent to depart'^ thy 
 confession for shame or drede, for it is but strangling of thy 
 soule. For certes, Jesu Crist is entierly all good, in him is 
 not imperfection, and therfore either he foryeveth all par- 
 fitly, or elles never a dele. I say not that if thou be as- 
 signed to thy penitencer for certain sinne, that thou art 
 bound e to she we him all the remenant of thy sinnes, of 
 whiche thou hast ben shriven of thy curat, but if it like 
 thee of thyn humilitee ; this is no departing of shrift. Ne 
 I say not, ther as I speke of division of confession, that if 
 thou have licence to shrive thee to a discrete and an honest 
 preest, and wher thee liketh, and by the licence of thy 
 curat, that thou ne mayest wel shrive thee to him of all 
 thy sinnes: but lete no blot be behind: lete no sinne be 
 untolde as fer as thou hast remembrance. And whan thou 
 shalt be shriven of thy curat, tell him eke all the sinnes 
 that thou hast don sith thou were laste shriven. This is 
 no wicked entente of division of shrift. 
 
 Also the veray shrift aseth certain conditions. First 
 that thou shrive thee by thy free will, not constreined, ne 
 for shame of folk, ne for maladie, or swiche other thinges : 
 for it is reson, that he that trespasseth by his free will, 
 that by his free will he confesse his trespas ; and that non 
 other man telle his sinne but himself: ne he shal not nay, 
 ne deny his sinne, ne wrath him ayenst the preest for 
 amonesting Mm to lete his sinne. The second condition 
 is, that thy shrift be lawful, that is to say, that thou that 
 shrivest thee, and eke the preest that hereth thy confes- 
 sion, be veraily in the feith of holy chirche, and that a man 
 ne be not despeired of the mercie of Jesu Crist, as Cain 
 and Judas were. And eke a man muste accuse himself of 
 his owen trespas and not another : but he shal blame and 
 wite himselfe of his owen malice and of his sinne, and non 
 other: but natheles, if that another man be encheson or 
 enticer of his sinne, or the estate of the person be swiche 
 by which his sinne is agregged, or elles that he may not 
 plainly shrive him but he tell the person with whiche lie 
 hath sinned, than may he tell, so that his entent ne 
 be not to backbite the person, but only to declare Ids 
 confession. 
 
 1 Piecemeal. 2 Diyide. 
 
578 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 Tlioii ne slialt not also make no leslnges in ihj can- 
 fession for liiimilitee, peraventure, to say that tliou hast 
 committed and don swiclie sinnes, of wHcli that tlion ne 
 were never gilty. For Seint Augustine saytli; if that 
 thou, because of thin humilitee, makest a lesing on thyself, 
 though thou v/ere not in sinne before, yet arte thou than 
 in sinne thurgh thy lesing. Thou must also shew thy 
 sinne by thy propre mouth, but thou be dombe, and not by 
 no letter: for thou that hast don the sinne, thou shatt 
 have the shame of the confession. Thou shalt not eke 
 peuit thy confession, with faire and subtil wordes, to cover 
 the more thy sinne: for than begUest thou thyself, and not 
 the preest: thou must tell it plainly, be it never so foule 
 ne so horrible. Thou shalt eke shrive thee to a preest that 
 is discrete to conseille thee : and eke thou shalt not shrive 
 thee for vaine glorie, ne for ypocrisie, ne for no cause, but 
 only for the doute of Jesu Crist, and the hele of thy soule. 
 Thou shalt not eke renne to the preest al sodenly, to tell 
 him lightly thy sinne, as who telleth a jape or a tale, but 
 avisedly and with good devotion; and generally shrive 
 thee ofte : if thou ofte fall, ofte arise by confession. And 
 though thou shrive thee ofter than ones of sinne which 
 thou hast be shriven of, it is more merite: and, as sayth 
 Seint Augustine, thou shalt have the more lightly relese 
 and grace of God, both of sinne and of peine. And 
 certes ones a yere at the lest way it is lawful to be 
 houseled, for sothely ones a yere all thuiges in the erthe 
 renovelen.^ 
 
 Ex]plicit secunda pars JPenitentice : et seqidtur tertia pars. 
 
 ISTow have I told you of veray confession, that is the 
 seconde part of penitence: The thridde part is satisfaction, 
 and that stent most generally in almesse dede and in bodily 
 peine. Now ben ther three maner of almesse : contrition 
 of herte, wher a man offreth himself to. God : another is, to 
 have pitee of the defaute of his neighbour : and the thridde 
 is, in yeving of good conseil, gostly and bodily, wher as men 
 have nede, and namely in sustenance of mannes food. And 
 take kepe that a man hath nede of thise thinges generally, 
 he hath nede of food, of clothing, and bf herberow,^ he hath 
 nede of charitable conseilling and visiting in prison, and Jn 
 
 1 Are renewed. s Lodging. 
 
THE PEKSONES TALE. 579 
 
 maladie, and sepulture of his ded body. And if tliou maiest 
 not visite the nedeful in prison in thy person, visite hem 
 with thy message and thy yeftes. Thise ben generally the 
 almesses and werkes of charitee, of hem that have temporel 
 richesses, or discretion in conseilling. Of thise werkes shalt 
 thou heren at the day of dome. 
 
 This almesse shuldest thou do of thy propre thinges, and 
 hastily/ and prively if thou mayest: but natheles, if thou 
 mayest not do it prively, thou shalt not forbere to do 
 almesse, though men see it, so that it be not don for thanke 
 of the world, but only to have thanke of Jesu Crist. For, 
 as Avitnesseth Seint Mathewe, Caj). v. a citee may not be 
 hid that is sette on a mountaine, ne men light not a lan- 
 terne, to put it under a busliell, but setten it upon a can- 
 dlesticke, to lighten the men in the hous : right so shal 
 your light lighten before men, that they mowe see your good 
 werkes, and glorifie your Fader that is in heven. 
 
 Now as for to speke of bodily peine, it stont in praiers, 
 in waking, in fasting, and in vertuous teching. Of orisons 
 ye shul understond, that orisons or prayers, is to say, a 
 pitous will of herte, that setteth it in God, and expresseth 
 it by word outward, to remeve harmes, and to have thinges 
 spirituel and perdurable, and somtime temporel thinges. 
 Of which orisons, certes in the orison of the Paternoster 
 hath Jesu Crist enclosed most thinges. Certes it is pri- 
 vileged of three thinges in his dignitee, for whiche it is more 
 digne than any other prayer : for that Jesu Crist himself 
 made it: and it is short, for it shuld be coude the more 
 lightly, and to hold it the more esie in herte, and helpe 
 himself the ofter with this orison, and for a man shuld be 
 the lesse wery to say it, and for a man may not excuse him 
 to lerne it, it is so shorte and so esie : and for it compre- 
 hendeth in himself all good prayers. The exposition of 
 this holy prayer, that is so excellent and so digne, I betake 
 to the maisters of theologie, save thus moclie wol I say, 
 that whan thou prayest, that God shuld foryeve thee thy 
 gUtes as thou foryevest hem that have agllted thee, be wel 
 ware that thou be not out of charitee. This holy orison 
 amenuseth eke venial sinne, and therfore it apperteineth 
 specially to penitence. 
 
 This prayer must be trewely sayd, and in perfect feith, 
 and that men prayen to God ordinately, discretely, and 
 
 1 Ecadily. 
 
580 THE CAI^TEEBURY TALES. 
 
 devoutly: and alway a man sTial put liis v/ill to Tie sub- 
 gette to the will of God. This orison must eke be sayd 
 with gret humblesse and ful pure, and honestly, and not 
 to the annoyance of any man or woman. It must eke be 
 continued with werkes of charitee. It availeth eke ayenst 
 the vices of the soule : for, as sayth Seint Jerome, by fast- 
 ing ben saved the vices of the flesh, and by prayer the vices 
 ot tlie soule. 
 
 After this thou shalt understonde, that bodily peine 
 stent in waking. For Jesu Crist sayth; wake ye and 
 pray ye, that ye ne enter into wicked temptation. Ye 
 shul understond also, that fasting stont in three thinges : in 
 forbering of bodily mete and diinke, in forbering of worldly 
 jolitee, and in forbering of dedly sin: this is to say, that 
 a man shall kepe him fro dedly sume with all his might. 
 
 And thou shalt understonde also, that God ordeined fast- 
 ing, and to fasting apperteineth foure thinges. Largenesse 
 to poure folk : gladnesse of herte spiritual : not to be angry 
 ne annoied, ne grutch for he fasteth: and also resonable 
 houre for to ete by mesure, that is to say, a man shal not 
 ete in untime, ne sit the longer at the table, for he fasteth. 
 
 Than shalt thou understonde, that bodily peine stont in 
 discipline, or teching, by word, or by writing, or by en- 
 sample. Also in wering of here or of stamin,^ or of haber- 
 geons on hir naked flesh for Cristes sakej but ware thee 
 wel that swiche maner penances ne make not thin herte 
 bitter or angry, ne annoied of thyself; for better is to cast 
 away thin here than to cast away the swetenesse of our 
 Lord Jesu Crist. And therfore saith Seint Poule: clothe 
 you, as they that ben chosen of God in herte, of miseri- 
 corde, debonairtree, suffrance, and swiche maner of clothing, 
 of whiche Jesu Crist is more plesed than with the heres or 
 habergeons. 
 
 Than is discipline eke, in knocking of thy brest, in 
 scourging with yerdes, in kneling, in tribulation, in suf- 
 fring patiently wronges that ben don to thee, and eke in 
 patient sufii'ing of maladies, or lesing of worldly catel, or wif, 
 or child, or other frendes. 
 
 Than shalt thou understond, which thinges distourben 
 penance, and this is in foure maners ; that is drede, shame, 
 hope, and wanhope, that is, desperation. And for to speke 
 fii'st of di-ede, for which he v/cneth that he may suffre no 
 
 1 E&tamine. a kind of woollen clolli. 
 
THE PEESONES TAL£. 581 
 
 penance, tlier ayenst is remedie for to thlnke, that "bodily 
 penance is but short and litel at regard of tlie peine of 
 helle, tliat is so cruel and so longe, that it lasteth -withonten 
 ende. 
 
 Xow ayenst the shame that a man hath to shrive him, and 
 namely thise Ipocrites, that wold be holden so parfit, that 
 they have no nede to shrive hem, ayenst that sha-me shuld 
 a man thinke, that by way of reson, he that hath not ben 
 ashamed to do foule thinges, certes him ought not be ashamed 
 to do faire thinges, and that is confessions. A man shuld 
 also thinke, that God seeth and knoweth al his thoughtes, 
 and al his werkes, and to him may nothing be hid ne 
 covered. Men shuld eke remembre hem of the shame that 
 is to come at the day of dome, to hem that ben not peni- 
 tent in this present lif : for all the creatures in heven, and 
 in erthe, and in helle, shul see apertly aU that they hiden in 
 this world. 
 
 "Now for to speke of the hope of hem, that ben so 
 negligent and slowe to shrive hem : that stondeth in two 
 manors. That on is, that he hopeth for to live long, and 
 for to purchase moche richesse for his delit, and than he wol 
 shrive him : and, as he sayeth, he may, as him semeth, than 
 timely ynough come to shrift: another is, the sm-quedrie^ 
 that he hath in Cristes mercie. Ayenst the first vice, he shal 
 thinke that our lif is iii no sikernesse, and eke that all 
 the richesse in this world ben in aventure, and passen as a 
 shadowe on a wall; and, as sayth Seint Gregorie, that it 
 apperteineth to the gret rightwisnesse of God, that never 
 shal the peine stinte of hem, that never wold withdi-awe hem 
 from sinne, hiv thankes,- but ever continue in sinne: for 
 thilke perpetuel will to don shme shall they have perpetuel 
 peine. 
 
 Wanhope is in two manors. The first wanhope is, in the 
 mercie of God : that other is, that they think that they ne 
 might not long persever in goodnesse. The fii-st wanhope 
 Cometh of that, he demeth that he hath sumed so gretly 
 and so oft, and so long lyen in sinne, that he shal not be 
 saved. Certes ayenst that cm*sed wanhope shulde he thinlce, 
 that the passion of Jesu Crist is more stronge for to unbinde, 
 than sinne is strong for to binde. Ayenst the second wanhope 
 he shal thinke, that as often as he falleth, he may arisen 
 again by penitence : and though, he never so longe hath lyea 
 
 * Conceit, too great confidence. - By tlieir free will. 
 
582 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 in shine, the mercie of Crist is alway redy to receive liim 
 to mercie, Ayenst that wanhope that he demeth he shnld 
 not longe persever in goodnesse, he shal think, that the 
 feblenesse of the devil may nothing do, hut if men wol 
 Buffre him : and eke he shal have strength of the helpe of 
 Jesu Crist, and of all his chirche, and of the protection of 
 angels, if him list. 
 
 Than shul men nnderstonde, what is the firuit of penance ; 
 and after the wordes of Jesu Crist, it is an endeles blisse 
 of heven, ther joye hath no contrariositee of wo ne gre- 
 vance ; ther all haimes ben passed of this present lif ; ther 
 as is sikernesse from the peines of helle; ther as is the 
 blisfiil compagnie, that rejoycen hem ever mo everich of 
 others joye; ther as the body of man, that whilom was 
 foule and derke, is more clere than the sonne; ther as the 
 body that whilom was sike and freele, feble and mortal, is 
 immortal, and so strong and so hole, that ther ne may 
 nothing appeire it: ther as is neither hunger, ne thurste, 
 ne colde, but every soule replenished with the sight of the 
 parfit knowing of God. This blisful regno mowe men pur- 
 chase by poverte spii-ituel, and the glorie by lowlinesse, 
 the plentee of joye by hunger and thurst, and the reste by 
 travaile, and the lif by deth and mortification of sinne: 
 to which life he us bring, that bought us with his precious 
 blood. Amen. 
 
 Now preye I to hem alle that herken this litel tretlse or 
 reden it, that if ther be any thing in it that liketh hem, 
 that therof they thanken our Lord Jesu Crist, of whom 
 procedeth all witte and all godenesse; and if ther be any 
 thing that displeseth hem, I preye hem also that they 
 arretted it to the defaute of myn unkonning, and not to 
 my wille, that wold fayn have seyde better if I hadde had 
 konning; for our boke seyth, all that is writen is writen 
 for oure doctrine, and that is myn entente. Wherfore I 
 beseke you mekely for the mercie of God that ye preye 
 for me, that Crist" have mercie of me, and foryeve me my 
 giltes, [and namely of myn translations and enditinges of 
 worldly vanitees, the which I revoke in my Betractions, 
 as the boke of Troilus, the boke also of Fame, the boke of 
 the five and twenty ladies, the boke of the Duchesse, the 
 boke of Seint Valentines day of the Parlement of briddes, 
 
 1 Impute, 
 
THE PEESONES TALE. 583 
 
 the tales of Canterbury, thilke tliat soimen unto sinne, tlie 
 boke of the Leon/ and many an other boke, if they were 
 in my remembraunce, and many a song and many a lecherous 
 lay, Crist of his grete mercie foryeve me the sinne. But 
 of the translation of Boes of consolation, and other bokes of 
 legendes of Seints, and of Omelies, and moralite, and 
 devotion, that thanke I oure Lord Jesu Crist, and his blisful 
 mother, and alle the Seintes in heven, beseking hem that 
 they fro hensforth unto my l^nres ende sende me grace to 
 bewaiLe my giltes, and to stodien to the savation of my soule,] 
 and graunte me grace of verray penance, confession and 
 satisfaction to don in this present iif, thorgh the benigne 
 grace of him, that is king of kiuges and preste of alle prestes, 
 that bought us with the precious blode of his herte, so that I 
 mote ben on of hem atte the laste day of dome that shullen 
 be saved; qui cum Deo ^atre et Spiritu sancto vivis et 
 regnas Deus ^er omnia secula. Amen. 
 
 THE END OF THE CANTEEBUEY TALES.^ 
 
 I This has never been discovered in any MS. 
 
 ^ On the last paragraph, beginning " Now preye I," &c., Tyrwhitt has 
 the follomng observations, wtdch we present in a condensed form : 
 
 " "What follows being found, with some small variations, in all 
 complete MSS. (I believe) of the Canterbury Tales, and in both Caxton's 
 editions, wliich were undoubtedly printed from MSS., there was no 
 pretence to leave it out in tliis edition, however difficult it may be to 
 give any satisfactory account of it. 
 
 "I must first take notice, that tliis passage in MS. Ask. 1. is intro- 
 duced by these words — ' Here taketh the maker his leve,' and is con- 
 cluded by ' Here endeth the Persones Tale.' In Edit. Ca. 2, it is clearly 
 separated from the Persones Tale, and entitled ' The Prayer.' In the 
 MSS., in wliich it is also separated from the Persones Tale, I do not 
 remember to have seen it distinguished by any title, either of Prayer, or 
 Revocation; or Retractation, as it is called in the Preface to Ed. TJrry, If 
 we believe what is said in p. 582, line 39, Chaucer had written a distinct 
 piece entitled his Retractions, in which he had revoked his blameable 
 compositions. 
 
 " The just inference from these variations in the MSS. is, perhaps, 
 that none of them are to be at all relied on; that different copyists have 
 
684: THE CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 given this passage the title that pleased them best, and have attributed 
 it to the Persone or to Chaucer, as the matter seemed to them to be 
 most suitable to the one or the other. 
 
 " Mr. Hearne, whose greatest weakness was not his incredulity, has 
 declared his suspicion, ' that the Revocation, meaning this Avhole pas- 
 sage, is not genuine, but that it was made by the Monks.' App. to 
 K. G. p. 603. I cannot go quite so far. I think, if the Monks had set 
 about making a Revocation for Chaucer to be annexed to the Canter- 
 bury Tales, they would have made one more in form. The same objec- 
 tion lies to the supposal, that it was made by himself. 
 
 " The most probable hypothesis which has occurred to me for the 
 solution of these difficulties, is to suppose that the beginning of this 
 passage, except the words or reden it in p. 582, line 28, and the end 
 make together the genuine conclusion of the Persones tale, and that the 
 middle part, which I have inclosed between hooks, is an interpolation. 
 
 " It must be allowed, I think, as I have observed before in the Dis- 
 course, &c. ; § xlii. that the appellation of ' litel tretise' suits better -with 
 the Persones tale taken singly, than with the whole work. The doubt 
 expressed in line 30, ' if there be anything that displeaseth,' &c., is very 
 agreeable to the manner in which the Persone speaks in his Prologue, 
 ver. 17366. The mention of verray penance confession and satisfaction' 
 in p. 583, line 12, seems to refer pointedly to the subject of the speaker's 
 preceding discourse; and the title given to Christ in p. 583, line 15, 
 ' Preste of all Prestes,' seems peculiarly proper in the mouth of a 
 priest. 
 
 " So much for those parts which may be supposed to have originally 
 belonged to the Persone. With respect to the middle part, I think it 
 not improbable that Chaucer might be persuaded, by the Religious 
 who attended him in his last illness, to revoke, or retract, certain of his 
 works ; or at least that they might give out, that he had made such 
 Eetractions as they thought proper. In either case, it is possible that 
 the same zeal might think it expedient to join the substance of these 
 Ketractions to the Canterbury Tales, the antidote to the poison ; and 
 might accordingly procure the present interpolation to be made in the 
 Epilogue to the Persones tale, taking care at the same time, by the 
 insertion of the words ' or reden it' in line 28, to convert that Epilogue 
 from an address of the Persone to his hearers into an address of Chaucer 
 to his readers. 
 
 " The mention of ' the boke of five and twenty ladies ;' the reading of 
 all the MSS., if genuine, affords a strong proof that this enumeration of 
 Chaucer's works was not drawn up by himself; as there is no ground 
 for believing that the Legende of Good Women ever contained, or was 
 intended to contain, the histories oifive and tioenty Ladies. See note on 
 ver. 4481. It is possible, however, that xxv. may have been put by 
 mistake for xix. 
 
 " As to what is said of * the tales of Canterbury,' &c., if we suppose 
 that this passage was -written by Chaucer himself, to make part of the 
 conclusion of his Canterbury Tales, it must appear rather extraordinary 
 that he should mention those tales in this general manner, and in the 
 midst of his other works. It would have been more natural to have placed 
 them either at the beginning or at the end of his catalogue. However, 
 whether we suppose this list of Chaucer's exceptionable works to havo 
 
THE PERSONES TALR 585 
 
 been drawn up by himself or by any other person, it is unaccountable 
 that his translation of the lioman de la Hose should be omitted. If he 
 translated the whole of that very extraordinary composition, as is most 
 probable, he could scarce avoid being guilty of a much greater licentious- 
 ness, in sentiment as well as diction, than we find in any of his other 
 writings. His translation, as we have it, breaks of at ver. 5370 of the 
 original (ver. 5S10. Ed. Urr.) and beginning again at ver. 11253, ends 
 imperfect at ver. 13105. In the latter part we have a strong proof of 
 the negligence of the first editor, who did not perceive that two leaves 
 m his MS. were misplaced. The passage from ver. 7013 to ver. 7062 
 inch, and the passage from ver. 7257 to ver. 7304 inch, should bo 
 inserted after ver. 7160. The later Editors have all copied this, as well 
 as many other blunders of less consequence, which thcy must Lave dig- 
 covered, if they had consulted the French original." 
 
686 
 ADDENDA, 
 
 speak French at all for i seems tS ?. ff '* ^^^^^f'-^* '^^ <^onld nS 
 the expression,'rrench of StraXJi^l^^^ " ''''^'' of Queen Elizabeth. 
 
 for Il^lish." of Stratfoicl at Bow,' was a colloquial paraphrase 
 
 - She was ill-shaped and Sy Tits iL.^r^^^ '^ f^"^*^ ^"^^^^'' «^^^•• 
 under her chin." " Gap-toothed » SJ.M^' W-^«^^^^' ^^d a tumour 
 stood at a nttle distaS WeS^h other -'w .1" ^"^''"^^ *^^^^ ^^^^^'^^ 
 tooth»has not heen ^^^^r^^^r^^^^^^^^Z^StV;^^ 
 
 ^ilisl'mtltL^^^^^^^^ ^^^^^f^y (C^-Pters on Early 
 
 pose, from aros and ^SctlncZle^^^^^^ I V"^- 
 
 Eiir:resr4?^,s\^^ 
 
 T«^soi:-:£S;.. ^^^"^^l^<^^-^-oldes" are the yellow /owers of the 
 
 THE END. 
 
1