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FROM  A  M.S.  OF  HOCCLETES  POEMS.IK  THE  HABLEIAN  ilBRARY. 


THE 


CANTERBURY  TALES 


CHAUCER; 


WITH  AN  ESSAY  UPON  HIS  LANGUAGE  AND  VERSIFICATION, 

AN  INTRODUCTORY  DISCOURSE,  NOTES, 

AND  A  GLOSSARY, 

BY  T.  TYRWHITT,  ESQ. 


VOL.  i. 


LONDON : 

PRINTED  FOR  W.  PICKERING,  31,  LINCOLN'S-INN  FIELDS; 

AND    R.  AND  S,  PftOWETT,  269,  STRAND. 

MDCCCXX1I. 


T.  WHITE  &  Co 
Prinun,  14,  Ecu  Alley,  I 


CONTENTS 

OF  THE  FIRST  VOLUME. 


The  Preface Page       i 

App^adix  to  the  Preface. 

(A.)  Account  of  former  Editions  of  the  Canterbury  Tales      x 
(B.)  List  of  MSS.  collated,  or  consulted,  with  the  Ab 
breviations  by  which  they  are  cited    xxvi 

•  (C.)  Abstract  of  the  Historical  Passages  of  the  Life  of 

Chaucer xxix 

Au  Account  of  the  Works  of  Chaucer  to  which  the  Glossary 
is  adapted  j  and  of  tthose  other  Pieces  which  have  been 

improperly  intermixed  with  his  in  the  Editions xli 

An  Essay  on  the  Language  and  Versification  of  Chaucer. ...      1 

An  Introductory  Discourse  to  the  Canterbury  Tales 96 

The  Prologue * 1 63 

Character  of  the  Knight     164 

the  Squier 166 

the  Knightes  Yeman 167 

the  Prioresse ibid. 

the  Monk    169 

theFrere    171 

the  Marchant 173 

the  Clerk  of  Oxenforde 174 

the  Sergeant  of  Lawe 175 


VI  CONTENTS  OF  THE  FIRST  VOLUME. 


Character  of  the  Frankeleiu Page  176 

the  Haberdasher,  Carpenter,  Webbe,  Deyer, 

and  Tapiser    177 

the  Coke    178 

the  Sbipman ibid. 

the  Doctour  of  Physike 179 

the  Wif  of  Bathe   181 

the  Persone    182 

the  Ploughman 184 

the  Miller ibid. 

the  Manciple •  •  185 

the.Reve 186 

the  Sompnour 188 

the  Pardoner 189 

The  Knightes  Tale 197 


To  the  Binder. 

The  Portrait  of  Chaucer  to  face  Title,  Vol.  I. 
The  Canterbury  Pilgrimage,  p.  163,  Vol.  I. 


THE  PREFACE.* 


THE  first  object  of  this  publication  was  to  give 
the  text  of  THE  CANTERBURY  TALES  as  correct 
as  the  Mss.  within  the  reach  of  the  Editor  would 
enable  him  to  make  it. 

The  account  of  former  Editions,  in  the  Appendix 
to  this  Preface  (A),  will  shew,  that  this  object  had 
hitherto  been  either  entirely  neglected,  or  at  least 
very  imperfectly  pursued.  The  Editor  therefore 
has  proceeded  as  if  his  author  had  never  been  pub 
lished  before.  He  has  formed  the  text  throughout 
from  the  Mss.  and  has  paid  little  regard  to  the  read 
ings  of  any  edition,  except  the  two  by  Caxton,  each 
of  which  may  now  be  considered  as  a  Manuscript. 
A  List  of  the  Mss.  collated,  or  consulted,  upon  this 
occasion  is  subjoined  (B). 

In  order  to  make  the  proper  use  of  these  Mss.,  to 
unravel  the  confusions  of  their  orthography,  and  to 
judge  between  a  great  number  of  various  readings, 
it  was  necessary  to  enquire  into  the  state  of  our  lan 
guage  and  versification  at  the  time  when  Chaucer 
wrote,  and  also,  as  much  as  was  possible,  into  the 

«  To  the  Edition  of  17758. 
VOL.  I.  b 


11  PREFACE. 

peculiarities  of  his  style  and  manner  of  composition. 
Nor  was  it  less  necessary  to  examine  with  some  at 
tention  the  work  now  intended  to  be  republished ; 
to  draw  a  line  between  the  imperfections,  which 
may  be  supposed  to  have  been  left  in  it  by  the  au 
thor,  and  those  which  have  crept  into  it  since ;  to 
distinguish  the  parts  where  the  author  appears  as  an 
inventor,  from  those  where  he  is  merely  a  transla 
tor,  or  imitator ;  and  throughout  the  whole  to  trace 
his  allusions  to  a  variety  of  forgotten  books  and  ob 
solete  customs.  As  a  certain  degree  of  informa 
tion  upon  all  these  points  will  be  found  to  be  neces 
sary  even  for  the  reading  of  the  Canterbury  tales 
with  intelligence  and  satisfaction,  the  Editor  hopes 
he  shall  be  excused  for  supposing,  that  the  majo 
rity  of  his  readers  will  not  be  displeased  with  his 
attempt  to  shorten  at  least  the  labour  of  their  en 
quiries,  by  laying  before  them  such  parts  of  the  re 
sult  of  his  own  researches,  as  he  judges  will  be 
most  conducive  to  that  purpose.  He  has  therefore 
added  to  the  text,  1.  AN  ESSAY*  ON  THE  LAN- 

*  In  this  ESSAY,  p.  39 — 62.  is  contained  a  short  view  of  En 
glish  Poetry  to  the  time  of  Chaucer,  the  trouble  of  compiling 
which  the  Editor  might  perhaps  have  saved  himself,  if  he  had 
foreseen,  that  Mr.  Warton's  HISTORY  OF  ENGLISH  POETRY 
would  have  appeared  so  soon.  Both  the  Essay  and  the  Intro 
ductory  Discourse  were  printed  before  Mr.  Warton's  book  was 


PREFACE.  Ill 

GUAGE  AND  VERSIFICATION  OF  CHAUCER J  <2.  AN 
INTRODUCTORY  DISCOURSE  TO  THE  CANTERBURY 

TALES;  and  3.  NOTES,  into  which  he  has  thrown 
an  account  of  the  most  material  various  readings  ; 
illustrations  of  particular  passages  ;  and  explana 
tions  of  the  most  uncommon  words  and  phrases, 
especially  such  as  are  omitted,  or  ill  explained,  in 
the  Glossary  to  Urry's  Edition,  and  does  not  re 
collect  to  have  deviated  from  the  Mss.  (except, 
perhaps,  by  adding  the  final  n  to  a  very  few  words) 
in  any  one  instance,  of  which  the  reader  is  not  ad 
vertised  in  the  notes. 

With  respect  to  a  life  of  Chaucer,  he  found,  after 
a  reasonable  waste  of  time  and  pains  in  searching 
for  materials,  that  he  coud  add  few  facts  to  those, 
which  have  already  appeared  in  several  lives  of  that 
poet ;  and  he  was  not  disposed,  either  to  repeat  the 
comments  and  inventions,  by  which  former  biogra 
phers  have  endeavoured  to  supply  the  deficiency  of 
facts,  or  to  substitute  any  of  his  own  for  the  same 
laudable  purpose.  Instead  therefore  of  a  formal 

published  ;  which  is  mentioned,  not  so  much  to  obviate  any 
suspicion  of  plagiarism,  as  to  apologize  for  whatever  defects  there 
may  be  in  either  of  those  treatises,  from  a  want  of  the  lights,  which 
that  learned  and  elegant  writer  has  thrown  upon  all  parts  of  this 
subject. 


IV  .PREFACE. 

life  of  his  author,  which,  upon  these  principles,  must 
have  been  a  very  meagre  narration,  he  has  added 
to  this  Preface  (C)  a  short  ABSTRACT  OF  THE  HIS 
TORICAL  PASSAGES  OF  THE  LlFE  OF  CHAUCER, 

with  remarks,  which  may  serve  to  separate  for  the 
future  those  passages  from  others,  which  have 
nothing  to  recommend  them  to  credit,  but  the  sin 
gle  circumstance  of  having  been  often  repeated. 

The  GLOSSARY  is  intended  to  facilitate  the  read 
ing  of  Chaucer,  by  explaining,  in  our  present  lan 
guage,  such  of  his  words  and  phrases  as  are  now 
become  difficult  to  be  understood,  either  from  a 
total  disuse,  or  from  any  smaller  alterations  of  or 
thography  or  inflexion.  Many  of  these  words  and 
phrases  having  been  already  explained  in  the  Notes 
of  this  edition,  it  has  been  thought  sufficient  in 
that  case  to  refer  the  reader  to  those  Notes.  For 
the  rest,  it  is  hoped  that  this  work  may  be  of  use  in 
removing  some  of  the  most  material  difficulties, 
which  occur,  not  only  in  the  Canterbury  Tales, 
but  also  in  the  other  genuine*  compositions  of 

*  At  the  end  of  this  advertisement  I  shall  add  a  short  Account 
of  what  I  conceive  to  be  the  genuine  works  of  Chaucer,  and  of  those 
which  have  been  either  falsely  ascribed  to  him,  or  improperly  in 
termixed  with  his,  in  the  Editions.  Those  under  the  two  latter 
descriptions  may  be  of  use  to  illustrate  the  works  of  Chaucer,  hut 
should  not  be  confounded  with  them. 


PREFACE.  V 

Chaucer,  as  far  as  the  present  state  of  their  text 
makes  it  safe  to  attempt  any  explanation  of  them. 

It  would  be  injustice  to  the  learned  author  of 
the  Glossary  to  Mr.  Urry's  edition*,  not  to  acknow 
ledge,  that  I  have  built  upon  his  foundations,  and 
often  with  his  materials.  In  particular,  I  have  fol 
lowed,  and  have  endeavoured  to  improve  upon,  his 
example,  by  constantly  citing  one  or  more  places, 
in  which  the  word  or  phrase  explained  is  to  be 
foundf.  Where  the  places  cited  by  him  were  ap 
posite  and  satisfactory,  I  have  generally  spared 
myself  the  trouble  of  hunting  for  others,  with  this 
caution  however,  that  I  have  not  made  use  of  any 
one  of  his  references  without  having  first  verified  it 
by  actual  inspection  ;  a  caution,  which  every  com 
piler  ought  to  take  in  all  cases,  and  which  in  the 
present  case  was  indispensably  necessary,  on  ac 
count  of  the  numerous  and  gross  errors  in  the  text 
of  that  edition  f  to  which  Mr.  Thomases  Glossary 
was  adapted. 

*  Mr.  Timothy  Thomas.     See  App.  to  the  Preface.  A.  n.  (n). 

t  The  expediency  of  this  practice  is  obvious.  It  enables  the 
reader  to  apprehend  more  clearly  the  interpretation  of  the  Glos. 
sarist,  when  right ;  and  it  affords  him  an  opportunity  of  correcting 
those  mistakes,  to  which  we  are  all  so  exceedingly  liable. 

t  See  App.  to  the  Preface.  A.  p.  six,  xx. 


VI  PREFACE. 

For  the  further  prevention  of  uncertainty  and 
confusion,  care  has  been  taken  to  mark  the  part 
of  speech  to  which  each  word  belongs,  and  to  dis 
tribute  all  homonymous  words  into  separate  ar 
ticles  *.  The  numbers,  cases,  modes,  times,  and 
other  inflexions  of  the  declinable  parts  of  speech 
are  also  marked,  whenever  they  are  expressed  in  a 
manner  differing  from  modern  usage. 

Etymology  is  so  clearly  not  a  necessary  branch 
of  the  duty  of  a  Glossarist,  that,  I  trust,  I  shall  be 
easily  excused  for  not  having  troubled  the  reader 
with  longer  or  more  frequent  digressions  of  that 
sort.  In  general,  I  have  thought  it  sufficient  to 
mark  shortly  the  original  language  frpm  which 
each  word  is  probably  to  be  derived,  according  to 
the  hypothesis,  which  has  been  more  fully  explained 
in  the  ESSAY,  &c.  Part  the  second,  that  the  Nor 
man-Saxon  dialect,  in  which  Chaucer  wrote,  was 

*  The  neglect  of  this  precaution,  and  of  that  just  mentioned, 
lias  made  Mr.  Hearne's  Glossaries  to  liobert  of  Glmicester  and 
Robtrt  of  Brunne  of  very  little  use.  Who  would  place  any  con 
fidence  in  such  interpretations  as  the  following? — R.  G.  St.  as, 
after,  before,  ere,  till.  ift.  better,  bid,  bad,  desired,  prayed,  be,  are. — 
P.  L.  ante,  aim,  esteem,  love,  desire,  reckon'd,  aim'd,  fathom,  tell. 
tt&Fllf.  biting,  abiding,  tarrying,  bidding,  praying,  bidden,  being 
bidden,  being  desired,  continually,  commanded,  judged,  adjudged, 
readily. 


PREFACE.  Vll 

almost  entirely  composed  of  words  derived  from 
the  Saxon  and  French  languages  *. 

As  every  author  must  be  allowed  to  be  the  best 
expositor  of  his  own  meaning,  I  have  always  en 
deavoured  to  establish  the  true  import  of  any 
doubtful  word  or  phrase  by  the  usage  of  Chaucer 
himself  in  some  other  similar  passage.  Where  it 
has  been  necessary  to  call  in  foreign  assistance, 
recourse  has  been  chiefly  had  to  such  authors  as 

*  A  few  words  are  marked  as  having  been  taken  immedialely 
from  the  Latin  language.  The  number  has  increased  very  con 
siderably  since  the  time  of  Chaucer.  It  is  observable,  that  the 
verbs  of  this  sort  are  generally  formed  from  the  participle,  past, 
whereas  those  which  have  come  to  us  through  France  are  as  ge 
nerally  formed  from  the  infinitive  mode. 

In  referring  words  to  the  other  two  great  classes  a  precise  ac 
curacy  has  not  been  attempted.  The  small  remains  of  the  ge 
nuine  Anglo-Saxon  language,  which  our  lexicographers  have  been 
able  to  collect,  do  not  furnish  authorities  for  a  multitude  of  words, 
which  however  may  be  fairly  derived  from  that  source,  because 
they  are  to  be.  found  with  little  variation  in  the  other  collateral 
languages  descended  from  the  Gothic.  The  term  SAXON  there 
fore  is  here  used  with  such  a  latitude  as  to  include  the  Gothic,  and 
all  its  branches.  At  the  same  time,  as  the  Francic  part  of  the 
French  language  had  a  common  original  with  the  Anglo-Saxon,  it 
happens  that  some  words  may  be  denominated  either  FRENCH 
or  SAXON  with  almost  equal  probability.  In  all  such  cases,  the 
final  judgement  is  left  to  those,  who  have  leisure  and  inclination 
(according  to  our  author's  phrase,  ver.  15246.)  to  boult  the  matter 
to  the  bren. 


VIII  PREFACE. 

wrote  before  him,  or  at  least  were  contemporary 
with  him  in  some  part  of  his  life  *. 

The  proper  names  of  persons  and  places,  as  they 
occur  in  Chaucer,  are  often  either  so  obscure  in 
themselves,  or  so  disguised  by  a  vitious  ortho 
graphy,  that  they  stand  in  as  much  need  of  an  in 
terpreter  as  the  most  obsolete  appellative.  Some 
other  proper  names,  particularly  of  authors  quoted, 
though  sufficiently  known  and  clear,  have  been  in 
serted  in  this  Glossary,  in  order  to  make  it,  in  that 
respect,  answer  the  purposes  of  an  Index. 

As  there  are  several  passages,  of  which,   after 

*  Some  of  these  authors  have  been  pointed  out  in  the  ESSAY, 
&c.  $  VIII.  n.  24.  Of  the  others  the  most  considerable  are,  the 
author  of  the  Visions  of  Pierce  Ploughman,  GOWEK,  OCCLEVE, 
and  LYDGATE. 

In  the  ESSAY,  &c.  n.  57.  a  circumstance  is  mentioned,  which 
shews  that  the  Visions  of  Pierce  Ploughman  were  written  after 
1350.  1  have  since  taken  notice  of  a  passage  which  will  prove,  I 
think,  that  they  were  written  after  1362.  The  great  storm  of 
wind,  alluded  to  in  fol.  XX.  b.  1.  14. 

And  the  Southwesterne  winde  on  Satterdaic  at  even,  &c.  is  pro 
bably  the  storm  recorded  by  Thorn,  inter  X  Script,  c.  2122.  Wal- 
singham,  p.  178.  and  most  particularly  by  the  Continuator  of 
Adam  Muri ninth,  p.  115. 

A.D.  M.CCC.LXII. — XV  die  Januarii,  circa  horam  vespera- 
ruro,  ventus  veheraens  notus  Australis  Africus  tanta  rabie  erupit, 
&c. 

The  15th  of  January  in  the  year  1362,  N.  S.  was  a  Saturday. 


PREFACE.  IX 

all  my  researches,  I  am  unable  to  give  any  proba 
ble  explanation,  I  shall  follow  the  laudable  ex 
ample  of  the  learned  Editor  of  "  Ancient  Scottish 
Poems  from  the  MS.  of  George  Bannatyne.  Edinb. 
1770."  by  subjoining  a  list  of  such  words  and 
phrases  as  I  profess  not  to  understand.  I  only 
wish  the  reader  may  not  find  occasion  to  think, 
that  I  ought  to  have  made  a  considerable  addition 
to  the  number. 

I  will  just  add,  for  the  sake  of  those  who  may 
be  disposed  to  make  use  of  the  Glossary  in  read 
ing  the  works  of  Chaucer  not  contained  in  this 
edition,  that  it  will  be  found  to  be  almost  equally 
well  adapted  to  every  edition  of  those  works,  ex 
cept  Mr.  Urry's.  Mr.  Urry's  edition  should  never 
be  opened  by  any  one  for  the  purpose  of  reading 
Chaucer. 

T.  TYRWHITT. 


(A)  AN  ACCOUNT  OF  FORMER  EDITIONS 
OF  THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


THE  Art  of  Printing  had  been  invented  and  ex 
ercised  for  a  considerable  time,  in  most  countries  of 
Europe,  before  the  Art  of  Criticism  was  called  in  to 
superintend  and  direct  its  operations.  It  is  there 
fore  much  more  to  the  honour  of  our  meritorious 
countryman  William  Caxton,  that  he  chose  to  make 
the  Canterbury  Tales  one  of  the  earliest  productions 
of  his  press,  than  it  can  be  to  his  discredit,  that  he 
printed  them  very  incorrectly.  He  probably  took 
the  first  Ms.  that  he  coud  procure  to  print  from, 
and  it  happened  unluckily  to  be  one  of  the  worst  in 
all  respects  that  he  coud  possibly  have  met  with. 
The  very  few  copies  of  this  Edition,  which  are  now 
remaining  (a),  have  no  date,  but  Mr.  Ames  sup 
poses  it  to  have  been  printed  in  1 475  or  6. 

It  is  still  more  to  the  honour  of  Caxton,  that  when 

(a)  The  late  Mr.  West  was  so  obliging  as  to  lend  me  a  com 
plete  copy  of  this  Edition,  which  is  now,  as  I  have  heard,  in  the 
King's  Library.  There  is  another  complete  copy  in  the  Library 
of  Merton  College,  which  is  illuminated,  and  has  a  ruled  line  under 
every  printed  one,  to  give  it  the  appearance,  I  suppose,  of  a  Ms. 
Neither  of  these  books,  though  seemingly  complete,  has  any  Pre 
face  or  Advertisement. 


APPENDIX  TO  THE  PREFACE.  xi 


he  was  informed  of  the  imperfections  of  his  edition, 
he  very  readily  undertook  a  second,  "  for  to  satisfy 
the  author,"  (as  he  says  himself,)  "  whereas  tofore 
by  ignorance  he  had  erred  in  hurting  and  diffaming 
his  book."  His  whole  account  of  this  matter,  in 
the  Preface  to  this  second  Edition,  is  so  clear  and 
ingenuous,  that  I  shall  insert  it  below  in  his  own 
words  (b).  This  Edition  is  also  without  date,  ex- 

(b)  Pref.  to  Caxton's  2d  Edit,  from  a  copy  in  the  Library  of  St. 
John's  Coll.  Oxford.  Ames,  p.  55. — Whiche  book  1  have  dyly- 
gently  oversen,  and  duly  examyned  to  the  ende  that  it  be  made 
accordyng  unto  his  owen  makyng ;  for  I  fynde  many  of  the  sayd 
bookes,  whiche  wryters  have  abrydgyd  it,  and  many  thynges  left 
out,  and  in  some  places  have  sette  certayn  versys  that  he  never 
made  ne  sette  in  h^s  booke;  of  whyche  bookes  so  incorrecte  was 
one  broughte  to  me  vi.  yere  passyd,  whiche  I  supposed  had  ben 
veray  true  and  correcte,  and  accordyng  to  the  same  I  dyde  do  en- 
prynte  a  certayn  nomber  of  them,  whyche  anon  were  solde  to 
many  and  dyverse  gentyl  men,  of  whom  one  gentylman  cam  to  me, 
and  sayd  that  this  book  was  not  according  in  many  places  unto  the 
book  that  Gefferey  Chaucer  had  made.  To  whom  I  answered, 
that  I  had  made  it  accordyng  to  my  copye  and  by  me  was  noth- 
yng  added  ne  mynusshyd.  Thenne  he  sayd,  he  knewe  a  book 
whyche  hys  fader  had  and  moche  lovyd,  that  was  very  trewe,  and 
accordyng  unto  hys  owen  first  book  by  hyna  made  ;  and  sayd  more, 
yf  I  wold  enprynte  it  agayn,  he  wold  gete  me  the  same  book  fora 
copye.  How  be  it  he  wyst  well  that  hys  fader  wold  not  gladly 
departe  fro  it.  To  whom  I  said,  in  cass  that  he  coude  gete  me 
suche  a  book,  trewe  and  correcte,  yet  I  wold  ones  endevoyre  me 
to  enprynte  it  agayn,  for  to  satisfy  the  auctour,  where  as  tofore  by 
ygnoraunce  I  erryd  in  hurtyng  and  dyffamyng  liis  book  in  dy- 


Xll  APPENDIX  TO  THE  PREFACE. 


cept  that  the  Preface  informs  us,  that  it  was  printed 
six  years  after  the  first. 

Ames  mentions  an  Edition  of  Chaucer's  Canter 
bury  Tales,  "  Collected  by  William  Caxton,  and 
printed  by  Wynken  de  Worde  at  Westmestre,  in 
1495.  Folio."  He  does  not  appear  to  have  seen  it 
himself,  nor  have  T  ever  met  with  any  other  autho 
rity  for  its  existence ;  which  however  I  do  not 
mean  to  dispute.  If  there  was  such  an  Edition,  we 
may  be  tolerably  sure,  that  it  was  only  a  copy  of 
Caxton's. 

This  was  certainly  the  case  of  both  Pynson's  Edi 
tions.  He  has  prefixed  to  both  the  introductory 
part  of  Caxton's  Prohemye  to  his  2d  Edition,  with- 

verce  places,  in  setting  in  sorame  thynges  that  he  never  sayd  ne 
made,  and  leving  out  many  thynges  that  he  made,  whyche  ben 
requysite  to  be  sette  in  it.  And  thus  we  fyll  at  accord,  and  he 
full  genlylly  gate  of  hys  fader  the  said  book,  and  delyvered  it  to 
me,  by  whiche  I  have  corrected  my  book,  as  heere  after  alle 
alonge  by  the  ayde  of  almighty  God  shal  folowe,  whom  I  humbly 
beseche  &c. 

Mr.  Lewis  in  his  Life  of  Caxton,  p.  104.  has  published  a  mi- 
-nute  account  of  the  contents  of  this  editio-i  from  a  copy  in  the  Li 
brary  of  Magdalen  College,  Cambridge,  but  without  deciding 
whether  it  is  the  first  or  the  second  edition. 

It  is  undoubtedly  the  second ;  but  the  Preface  is  lost.  There  is 
an  imperfect  copy  of  this  edition  in  the  Museum,  and  another  in 
the  Library  of  the  Royal  Society.  Both  together  would  not  make 
a  complete  one. 


APPENDIX  TO  THE  PREFACE. 


out  the  least  alteration.  In  what  follows,  he  says, 
that  he  purposes  to  imprint  his  book  [in  the  first 
Edition]  by  a  copy  of  the  said  Master  Caxton,  and  [in 
the  second]  by  a  copy  of  William  Caxton's  imprint 
ing  (c).  That  the  Copy,  mentioned  in  both  these 
passages,  by  which  Pynson  purposed  to  imprint, 
was  really  Caxton's  second  Edition,  is  evident  from 
the  slightest  comparison  of  the  three  books.  Pyn- 
son's  first  Edition  has  no  date,  but  is  supposed 
(upon  good  grounds,  I  think)  to  have  been  printed 
not  long  after  1491,  the  year  of  Caxton's  death. 
His  second  Edition  (d)  is  dated  in  1526,  and  was 
the  first  in  which  a  Collection  of  some  other 

(c)  See  the  Prohemies  to  Pynson's  1st  and  2d  Editt.  in  the  Pre 
face  to  Urry's  Chaucer.     There  is  a  complete  copy  of  Pynson's 
1st  Edit,  in  the  library  of  the  Royal  Society. 

(d)  I  venture  to  call  this   Pynson's  2d   Edit,  though  Ames 
(from  some  notes  of  Bagford)  speaks  of  Editions  in  1520  and  1522. 
He  does  not  appear  to  have  seen  them  himself.     Mr.  West  had  a 
copy  of  the  edition  of  1:>26,  in  which  the  name  of  the  printer  and 
the  date  of  the  impression  are  regularly  set  down  at  the  end  of  the 
Canterbury  Tales.     After  that  follow  "  Trolius  and  Creseide"  and 
"  the  Boke  of  Fame,"  at  the  end  of  which  last  is  a  note,  copied  from 
Caxton's  edition  of  the  same  book,  with  this  addition.     And  here 

foloweth  another  of  his  workes.  But  in  Mr.  West's  copy  nothing 
followed.  The  writer  of  the  Preface  to  Ed.  Urr.  seems  to  have 
had  the  use  of  a  copy  of  this  Edition  in  1526,  which  contained 
some  other  pieces  of  Chaucer's,  and  several  by  other  liands.  See 
the  Pref.  to  Ed.  Urr. 


XIV  APPENDIX  TO  THE  PREFACE. 


pieces   of  Chaucer  was  added  to  the  Canterbury 
Tales. 

The  next  Edition,  which  I  have  been  able  to  meet 
with,  was  printed  by  Thomas  Godfray  in  1532.  If 
this  be  not  the  very  edition  which  Leland  speaks  of 
(e)  as  printed  by  Berthelette,  with  the  assistance  of 

(e)  I  think  it  necessary  to  state  Leland's  account  of  the  editions 
of  Chaucer  in  his  own  words,  from  Tanner's  BibL  Brit.  v.  Chau 
cer.  "  Non  alienurn  meo  erit  institute  palam  facere,  Gulielmum 
Caxodunum,  hominem  nee  indiligentem  nee  indoctuin,  et  quern 
constat  primum  Londini  artem  exercuisse  typographical]],  Chau- 
ceri  opera,  quotquot  vel  pretio  vel  precibus  com  para  re  potuit,  in 
unum  volumem  colltgisse.  Yicit  tamen  Caxodunicam  editionetn 
Bertholetus  noster  opera  Gulielmi  Thynni,  qui  multo  labore,  sedu- 
litate,  ac  cura  usus  in  perquirendis  vetustis  exemplaribus,  mnlta 
prime  adjecit  editioni.  Sed  nee  in  hac  parte  caruit  Brianus  Tuc- 
ca,  inilii  familiaritate  conjunctissimus,  et  Anglicae  linguae  eloquen- 
tia  niirilicus,  sua  gloria,  edita  in  postremam  impressionem  prafa- 
tione  elinmta,  luculenta,  elegant!.  Sequar  igitur  codicem  paucis 
abhinc  annis  impressum,  et  promissum  adponam  syllabon.  He 
then  gives  a  Syllabus  of  the  works  of  Chaucer,  contained  in  that 
Edition,  as  follows.  Fabulee  Contiante  xxiv,  quarum  duae  soluta 
oratione  scriptae;  sed  Petri  Aratoris  fabula,  quae  coramuni  docto- 
rum  consensu  Chaucero,  tanquam  vero  parenti,  attribuitur,  in  utra- 
que  editione,  quia  nialos  sacerdotum  mores  vehementer  increpa- 
vit,  suppressa  est.  De  arte  amandi  alias  Romaunce  of  the  Rose, 
&c." 

Before  I  make  any  remarks  upon  this  account,  I  must  observe 
that  it  was  drawn  up  by  Leland  before  the  year  1540.  This  ap 
pears  from  his  "  New  Year's  gift  to  Henry  VIII  in  the  xxxvii 
yeare  of  his  raygne"  (1  Jan.  1546)  in  which  he  says  expressly, 


APPENDIX  TO  THE  PREFACE. 


XV 


Mr.  William  Thynne,  (as  I  rather  suspect  it  is,)  we 
may  be  assured  that  it  was  copied  from  that,,  Mr. 

that  he  had  spent  the  last  six  years  in  travelling  about  the  king 
dom,  "  all  his  other  occupations  intermitted"  [Ed.  1745.  p.  xxii. 
prefixed  to  Leland's  Itin.  v.  i.]  ;"  so  that  his  book  De  Viris  illustri- 
bus,  which  he  speaks  of  as  finished  in  the  same  piece,  p.  xxi.  must 
have  been  finished  before  he  set  out  upon  his  travels.  I  will  ob 
serve  too,  by  the  way,  that  the  Biographers  of  Leland  seem  to  have 
confounded  those  last  six  years  travels  with  his  former  travels,  in 
execution  of  the  Commission  granted  to  him  by  Henry  VIII,  to 
serche  the  Libraries  of  Monasteries,  Colleges,  &c.  That  Commis 
sion  was  granted  in  the  year  1533,  "25  H.  VIII.  but  how  many 
years  he  spent  in  the  execution  of  it,  there  is  no  authority,  that  I 
can  find,  for  deternfhiing  with  precision. 

In  the  account  above  quoted,  Leland  is  certainly  mistaken  in 
saying  that  Caxton  collected  the  works  of  Chaucer  into  one  volume* 
He  printed  two  Editions  of  the  Canterbury  Tales  by  themselves, 
as  has  been  shewn  above.  He  also  printed  Boethius,  Troilus  and 
Cressida,  and  the  Boke  of  Fame  ;  but  each  in  a  separate  volume  ; 
and  some  smaller  pieces  of  Chaucer,  intermixed  with  several  of 
Lydgate,  &c.  in  another  volume,  of  which  the  contents  may  be 
seen  in  Middleton's  Dissert,  p.  263.  n.  [d]  ;  but  it  does  not  appear 
tliat  he  ever  attempted  to  collect  these  separate  publications  into 
one  volume. 

Leland  is  also  inaccurate,  at  least,  in  representing  the  edition  by 
Thynne  as  coming  next  after  that  by  Caxton,  without  taking  any 
notice  of  the  intermediate  editions  by  Pynson,  and  especially  that 
in  1526,  in  which  an  attempt  was  really  made  to  collect  the  works 
of  Chaucer  into  one  volume. 

It  may  appear  presumptuous  to  go  further,  and  to  charge  him 
with  inaccuracy  in  his  description  of  that  very  edition  by  Thynne, 
which  he  seems  to  have  had  before  his  eyes,  but  I  am  much  in- 


APPENDIX  TO  THE  PREFACE. 


Thynne's  Dedication  to  Henry  VIII  stands  at  the 
head  of  it ;  and  the  great  number  of  Chaucer's 

clined  to  suspect,  (as  I  have  intimated  in  the  text,)  that  the  edi 
tion  which  he  speaks  of  as  printed  by  Berthelette  was  really 
printed  by  Godfray,  and  that  the  Preface  of  Brianus  Tucca  (Sir 
Brian  Tuke)  which  he  commends  so  much,  was  nothing  else  but 
the  Prefatory  address,  or  Dedication,  to  the  King,  which  is  pre 
fixed  to  Godfrey's  and  other  later  editions  in  the  name  of  Mr. 
William  Thynne.  The  mistake  may  not  have  been  so  extravagant, 
as  it  appears  to  be  at  first.  It  is  possible,  that  Berthelette  might 
be  concerned  in  putting  forth  the  edition  of  1532,  though  it  was 
printed  by  Godfray ;  and  it  is  very  probable,  that  the  Dedica 
tion,  (which  is  in  such  a  style  as  I  think  very  likely  to  be  com 
mended  by  Leland)  though  standing  in  the  name  of  Mr.  William 
Thynne,  was  composed  for  him  by  Sir  Brian  Tuke.  Mr.  Thynne 
himself,  I  apprehend,  was  rather  a  lover,  than  a  master,  of  these 
studies. 

In  support  of  this  suspicion  I  observe  1.  that  the  syllabus,  which 
Leland  has  given  of  the  contents  of  Berthelette's  edition,  agrees 
exactly  enough  with  the  contents  of  the  edition  by  Godfray,  a  few 
small  pieces  only  being  omitted  by  him.  2.  The  date  of  God- 
fray's  Edition  in  1532  agrees  perfectly  with  what  Leland  says  of 
the  edition  in  question,  (viz.  that  it  was  printed  a  few  years  be 
fore)  and  with  the  probable  date  of  Mr.  Thynne's  edition,  which 
appears  to  have  been  published  not  earlier  than  1530,  and  cer 
tainly  not  later  than  1532.  It  was  not  published  earlier  than  1530, 
because  the  French  Crammer  made  by  an  Englishman,  mentioned 
in  the  Dedication,  must  mean,  in  all  probability,  L'esclaircisement 
de  la.  langue  Fran$oise  by  John  Palsgrave,  the  printing  of  which 
was  finished  by  John  Hawkins,  xviii  July,  1530,  and  the  Privilege 
granted  on  the  2  September  following.  It  was  not  later  thau 
1532,  because  the  Dedication  appears  in  Godfrey's  edition  of 


APPENDIX  TO  THE  PREFACE.  XV11 


works,  never  before  published,  which  appear  in  it, 
fully  entitles  it  to  the  commendations,  which  have 

that  year.  3.  If  Berthelette  had  printed  Mr.  Thynne's  edition, 
in  1531  (we  will  suppose),  it  is  inconceivable  that  Godfray  should 
set  about  another  edition  so  immediately  as  to  be  able  to  publish 
it  the  very  next  year.  Though  the  Printers  of  that  age  had  a  very 
imperfect  notion,  I  apprehend,  of  Copyright  at  Common  Law, 
they  may  be  presumed  to  have  had  always  a  certain  Common 
Sense,  which  would  restrain  them  from  undertaking  a  new  im 
pression  of  a  book,  while  a  considerable  number  of  copies  of  a  for 
mer  impression  remained  unsold,  whether  those  copies  belonged 
to  themselves  or  to  others.  Besides,  Godfray's  edition  has  no  ap 
pearance  of  a  hasty,  piratical  impression.  It  is  upon  a  fine  paper, 
and  the  types  and  prtes-work  are  remarkably  neat  and  elegant. 
4.  1  think  we  have  Berthelette's  own  authority  for  believing  that 
he  did  not  print  Mr.  Thynne's  edition  of  Chaucer.  In  the  Pre 
face  to  Gower's  Confessio  Amantis,  which  he  published  in  this 
very  year  1532,  after  having  mentioned  Troylus  and  Creseyde,  he 
goes  on  thus  :  "  The  whiehe  noble  warke  and  many  other  of  the 
sayde  Chausers,  that  never  were  before  imprinted,  and  those  that 
very  fewe  men  knewe  and  fewer  hadde  them,  be  now  of  late  put 
forthe  together  in  a  fayre  volume."  There  can  be  no  doubt  that 
in  this  passage  he  refers  to  Mr.  Thynne's  edition,  and  if  he  had 
printed  it  himself,  I  think  he  would  certainly  have  claimed  the 
honour  of  it.  At  the  same  time,  the  favourable  manner  in  which 
he  speaks  of  it,  would  lead  one  to  imagine,  (as  has  been  suggested 
above,)  that  he  had  some  concern  in  it. 

Upon  the  whole  therefore  I  am  persuaded,  that  the  edition  by 
Godfray  in  1 532  is  the  edition,  which  Leland  speaks  of  as  printed 
by  Berthelette.  I  have  given  above  what  I  conjecture  to  have 
been  the  probable  grounds  of  his  mistake.  But  indeed,  when  we 
recollect  the  hurry  in  which  this  work  of  Leland  must  have  been 

VOL.  I.  C 


XV111  APPENDIX  TO  THE  PREFACE. 


always  been  given  to  Mr.  Thynne's  edition  on  that 
account.  Accordingly,  it  was  several  times  re 
compiled,  and  that  it  was  left  by  him  unfinished,  we  need  not  seek 
for  any  other  causes  of  the  inaccuracies  with  which  it  abounds. 
In  the  latter  part  of  the  passage  cited  above,  he  speaks  of  The 
Ploughman's  Tale  by  the  title  of  Petri  Aratoris  fabula,  confound 
ing  it,  in  the  title  at  least,  with  Pierce  Ploughman's  Visions.  For 
I  do  not  suppose  that  he  meant  to  attribute  the  Visions  to  Chaucer  ; 
though  in  fact  the  one  might  as  well  be  attributed  to  him  as  the 
other. 

Notwithstanding  the  immoderate  length  of  this  note,  I  must  not 
suppress  another  testimony,  which  may  be  produced  in  favour  of 
the  existence  of  an  Edition  of  Chaucer  by  Mr.  Thynne,  distinct 
from  that  printed  by  Godfray.  Mr.  Speght  in  his  Life  of  Chaucer 
has  the  following  passage  :  "  M.  William  Thynn  in  his  first 
printed  booke  of  Chaucers  works  with  one  columbe  on  a  side,  had 
a  Tale  called  the  Pilgrims  tale,  which  was  more  odious  to  the 
Clergie,  than  the  speach  of  the  Plowman.  The  tale  began  thus  : 
In  Lincolneshire  fast  by  a  fenne :  Standeth  a  religious  house  who 
doth  it  kenne.  The  argument  of  which  tale,  as  also  the  occasion 
thereof,  and  the  cause  why  it  was  left  out  of  Chaucers  works,  shall 
hereafter  be  shewed,  if  God  permit,  in  M.  Fran.  Thyns  coment 
upon  Chaucer :  and  the  Tale  itselfe  published  if  possibly  it  can  lie 
found." 

It  must  be  allowed  that  this  description  of  Mr.  Thynne's  first 
edition,  "  with  one  columne  on  a  side,  and  a  tale  called  the  Pilgrim's 
tale,"  does  not  suit  the  edition  printed  by  Godfray,  which  is  in  two 
columns  and  has  no  Pilgrim's  tale.  But  I  observe,  that  Mr. 
Speght  does  not  pretend  to  have  seen  this  book.  He  even  doubts 
whether  the  Tale  can  be  found.  If  therefore  I  should  be  able  to 
prove,  that  the  Tale,  which  he  speaks  of,  coud  not  possibly  be  in 
Mr.  Thynne's  first  edition,  I  presume  no  great  stress  will  be  laid 


APPENDIX  TO  THE  PREFACE.  xix 


printed  as  the  standard  edition  of  Chaucer's  works, 
without  any  material  alteration,  except  the  inser- 

upon  the  other  part  of  his  evidence,  in  which  he  supposes  that  edi 
tion  to  have  been  printed  with  only  one  colunme  on  a  side. 

It  appears  very  strange,  at  first  sight,  that  the  Plowman's  Tale 
(according  to  Leland)  should  have  been  suppressed  in  Mr.  Thynne's 
edition,  quia  malos  sacerdotum  mores  vehemeiiter  increpavit,  and 
that  he  should  have  inserted  this  Pilgrim's  tale,  which,  as  Mr. 
Speght  tells  us,  was  still  more  odious  to  the  Clergie.  A  few  years 
after,  when  the  Reformation  was  further  advanced,  in  1542,  the 
Plowman's  tale  is  inserted  among  Chaucer's  works  and  the  Pil 
grim's  tale  is  suppressed !  But  there  is  no  occasion  to  insist  upon 
these  little  improbabilities.  Though  Mr.  Speght  did  not  know 
where  to  find  the  Pilgrim's  tale,  and  the  Printer  of  the  Edit,  in 
1687  assures  us,  ^Jiat  he,  had  searched  for  it  "  in  the  Public  li 
braries  of  both  Universities,"  and  also  "  in  all  private  libraries  that 
he  could  have  access  unto,"  I  have  had  the  good  fortune  to  meet 
with  a  copy*.  It  is  entitled,  "  The  Pylgrymse  tale,"  and  begins 
thus: 

In  Lincolueshyr  fast  by  the  fene 

Ther  stant  an  hows  and  you  yt  ken, 

And  callyd  sempynham  of  religion 

And  is  of  an  old  foundation,  &c. 

*  The  copy,  of  which  I  speak,  is  in  the  black  letter,  aud  seems  to  have 
once  made  part  of  a  volume  of  miscellaneous  poems  in  8vo.  The  first  leaf 
is  numbered  xxxi  and  the  last  xlv.  The  Pilgrim's  talc  begins  about  the 
middle  of  fol.  xxxi.  vert,  and  continues  to  the  end  of  the  fragment,  where 
it  breaks  off  imperfect.  The  first  leaf  has  a  running  title—^entM.  The 
court  of—  and  contains  the  ten  last  lines  of  one  poem,  and  another  whole 
poem  of  twenty  lines,  before  the  Pilgrim's  tale. 

This  curious  fragment  was  purchased  at  the  Auction  of  Mr.  Wesi's 
library,  in  a  lot  (No  *  1040)  of  Sundry  fragment*  of  old  black-letter  books, 
by  Mr.lHerbert  of  GuUton's  Square,  who  very  obligingly  permitted  me  to 
examine  it. 


XX         APPENDIX  TO  THE  PREFACE. 


tion  of  the  Plowman's  tale  in  1542,  of  which  I  have 
spoken  in  the  Discourse,  &c.  n.  32. 

There  can  be  no  doubt,  I  think,  that  this  is  the  piece  of  which 
Mr.  Speght  had  received  some  confused  intelligence.  It  seems  to 
have  beer  mentioned  by  Sale  among  Chaucer's  works,  in  the  fol 
lowing  manner.  "  Narratimes  diversorum,  Lib.  i.  In  comitatu 
Lincolniensi  fuit — "  Script.  Brit.  p.  526.  Ed.  1559.  But  it  is  im 
possible  that  any  one  who  had  read  it  should  ascribe  it  to  Chaucer. 
He  is  quoted  in  it  twice  by  name,  fol.  xxxiii.  and  fol.  xlv.  and  in 
the  latter  place  the  reference  seems  to  be  made  to  a  printed  book. 
The  reader  shall  judge. — 

He  sayd  he  durst  not  it  disclose, 

But  bad  me  reyd  the  Romant  of  the  Rose, 

The  thred  leqfejast  from  the  end, 

To  the  secund  page  ther  he  did  nSe  send, 

He  prayd  me  thes  vi.  stavis  for  to  marke, 

Whiche  be  Chaucers  awn  hand  wark. 

If  Thus  moche  woll  our  boke  sygnify 

That  while  Peter  hath  mastery,  &c. 

[Then  follow  4  more  lines  from  Chaucer's  R.  R.  v.  7263—8.  Ed. 
Urr.]  It  is  not  usual,  at  least,  to  cite  Mss.  by  the  leaf  and  the  page. 
But  if  this  citation  was  really  made  from  a  printed  book,  the  Pil 
grim's  tale  must  have  been  written  after  Mr.  Thynne's  edition,  for 
Chaucer's  translation  of  the  Romant  of  the  Rose  was  first  printed 
in  that  edition.  Another  passage  will  fix  the  date  of  this  composi 
tion  still  more  clearly.  In  fol.  xxxix.  xl.  are  the  following  lines  : 

Perkin  werkek  and  Jak  straw 

And  now  of  late  our  cobler  the  dawe. 

One  would  net  expect  to  find  any  mention  of  Perkin  Warbeck  in  a 
work  attributed  to  Chaucer ;  but,  passing  that  over,  I  think  it  is 
plain,  that  our  cobler,  in  the  second  line,  means  the  leader  of  the 
Lincolnshire  rebels  in  1536,  who,  as  Hollinshed  tells  us,  p.  941. 


APPENDIX  TO  THE  PREFACE.  XXI 


As  my  business  here  is  solely  with  the  Canter 
bury  Tales,  I  shall  take  no  notice  of  the  several 
miscellaneous  pieces,  by  Chaucer  and  others,  which 
were  added  to  them  by  Mr.  Thynne  in  his  Edition, 
and  afterwards  by  Stowe  and  Speght  in  the  Edi 
tions  of  1561,  1597,  and  1602.  With  respect  to 
the  Canterbury  Tales,  I  am  under  a  necessity  of 
observing,  that,  upon  the  whole,  they  received  no 
advantage  from  the  edition  of  1532.  Its  material 
variations  from  Caxton's  second  edition  are  all,  I 
think,  for  the  worse.  It  confounds  the  order  of  the 
Squier's  (/)  and  the  Frankelein's  (g)  tales,  which 
Caxton,  in  hia»second  Edition,  had  set  right.  It  gives 
the  Frankelein's  Prologue  to  the  Merchant,  in  ad 
dition  to  his  own  proper  Prologue  (fi).  It  produces 
for  the  first  time  two  Prologues,  the  one  to  the 
Doctour's,  and  the  other  to  the  Shopman's  tale, 
which  are  both  evidently  spurious  (i) ;  and  it  brings 

"  called  himself  Captaine  Cobler,  but  was  indeed  a  monk,  named 
Doctor  Mackarell."  The  Pilgrim's  tale  therefore  was  not  written 
till  after  1536,  and  consequently  coud  not  possibly  be  in  Mr. 
Thynne's  first  Edition,  which  as  has  been  shewn  above,  was  printed 
at  latest  in  1532. 

(/)  See  the  Discourse,  &c.  §  xxiii.  and  Note  on  ver.  10293. 

(g)  See  the  Discourse,  &c.  §  xxv.  and  Note  on  ver.  10985. 

(A)  See  the  same  Section  and  Note. 

(t)    See  them  in  all  the  Editt.  since  1532. 


APPENDIX  TO  THE  PREFACE. 


back  the  lines  of  ribaldry  (/c)  in  the  Merchant's  tale, 
which  Caxton,  in  his  second  Edition,  had  rejected 
upon  the  authority  of  his  good  Ms. 

However,  this  Edition  of  153-2,  with  all  its  im 
perfections,  had  the  luck,  as  I  have  said,  to  be  con 
sidered  as  the  standard  edition,  and  to  be  copied, 
not  only  by  the  Booksellers,  in  their  several  Edi 
tions  (I)  of  1542,  1546,  1555,  and  1561,  but  also 
by  Mr.  Speght,  (the  first  Editor  in  form,  after  Mr. 
Thynne,  who  set  his  name  to  his  work,)  in  1597 
and  1602.  In  the  Dedication  to  Sir  Robert  Cecil, 
prefixed  to  this  last  edition,  he  speaks  indeed  of 
having  "  reformed  the  whole  work,  both  by  old 
written  copies  and  by  Ma.  William  Thynns  praise 
worthy  labours,"  but  I  cannot  find  that  he  has  de 
parted  in  any  material  point  from  those  editions, 
which  I  have  supposed  to  be  derived  from  Mr. 

(k)  See  the  Note  on  ver.  10227.  The  lines  themselves  are  in 
all  the  common  Editt. 

(/)  There  are  some  other  Editions  mentioned  by  Ames,  without 
date,  but  it  is  probable  that,  upon  inspection,  they  would  appear 
to  be  one  or  other  of  the  Editions,  whose  dates  are  here  given. 
It  seems  to  have  been  usual  to  print  books  in  partnership,  and  for 
each  partner  to  print  his  own  name  to  his  share  of  the  im. 
pression.  See  Ames,  p.  252.  A  Bible  is  said  to  be  printed  in 
1551,  by  Nicholas  Hill — "  at  the  cost  and  charges  of  certayne 
honest  menne  of  the  occupacyon,  it'ftose  names  be  upon  there 
bakes." 


APPENDIX   TO  THE   PREFACE.  XX1H 


Thynnes.  In  the  very  material  points  abovemen- 
tioned,  in  which  those  editions  vary  from  Caxton's 
second,  he  has  followed  them.  Nor  have  I  observed 
any  such  verbal  varieties,  as  would  induce  one  to 
believe  that  he  had  consulted  any  good  Ms.  They 
who  have  read  his  Preface,  will  probably  not  re 
gret,  that  he  did  not  do  more  towards  correcting 
the  text  of  Chaucer. 

In  this  state  the  Canterbury  Tales  remained  (m) 

till  the  edition  undertaken  by  Mr.  Urry,  which  was 

published,  some  years  after  his  death,  in  1721.     I 

shall  say  but  little  of  that  edition,  as  a  very  fair  and 

% 

(m)  It  may  be  proper  just  to  take  notice,  that  Mr.  Speght's 
Edition  was  reprinted  in  1687,  with  an  Advertisement  at  the  end 
in  which  the  Editor  pretended  to  publish  from  a  Ms.  the  Conclusion 
of  the  Coke's  Tale  and  also  of  the  Squires  Tale,  which  in  the 
printed  books  are  said  to  be  lost  or  never  finished  by  the  author. — 
These  Conclusions  may  be  seen  in  the  Preface  to  Ed.  Urr.  Who 
ever  the  Editor  was,  I  must  do  him  the  justice  to  say,  that  they  are 
both  really  to  be  found  in  Ms.  The  first  is  in  Ms.  B.  a.  and  the 
other  in  Ms.  B.  8.  from  which  Hearne  has  also  printed  it,  as  a 
choice  discovery,  in  his  Letter  to  Bagford.  App.  to  R.  G.  p.  601. 
If  I  thought  the  Reader  had  any  relish  for  such  supplements  to 
Chaucer,  I  coud  treat  him  from  Ms.  B.  a.  with  at  least  thirty  more 
lines,  which  have  been  inserted  in  different  parts  of  the  Cook's  Talet 
by  the  same  hand  that  wrote  this  Conclusion.  It  seems  to  have 
been  an  early,  though  very  unsuccessful,  attempt  to  supply  the 
deficiencies  of  that  Tale,  before  any  one  had  thought  of  tacking 
Gamelyn  to  it. 


XXIV  APPENDIX  TO  THE  PREFACE. 


full  account  of  it  is  to  be  seen  in  the  modest  and 
sensible  Preface  prefixed  to  it  by  Mr.  Timothy 
Thomas  (n),  upon  whom  the  charge  of  publishing 
Chaucer  devolved,  or  rather  was  imposed,  after 
Mr.  Urry's  death.  The  strange  licence,  in  which 
Mr.  Urry  appears  to  have  indulged  himself,  of 
lengthening  and  shortening  Chaucer's  words  ac 
cording  to  his  own  fancy,  and  of  even  adding  words 
of  his  own,  without  giving  his  readers  the  least 
notice,  has  made  the  text  of  Chaucer  in  his  Edition 
by  far  the  worst  that  was  ever  published. 

Since  this  there  has  been  no  complete  Edition  of 
the  Canterbury  Tales.  A  volume  in  8vo  containing 
the  Prologue  and  the  Knightes  Tale,  with  large  ex- 

(n)  I  learn  this  from  a  Ms.  note  in  an  interleaved  copy  of 
Urry's  Chaucer,  presented  to  the  British  Museum  by  Mr.  William 
Thomas,  a  brother,  as  I  apprehend,  of  Mr.  T.  Thomas.  T.  Thomas 
was  of  Christ-Church,  Oxford,  and  died  in  1751,  aged  LIX.  la 
another  note  Mr.  W.  Thomas  informs  us,  that  the  Life  of  Chaucer, 
in  that  edition,  was  very  uncorrectly  drawn  up  by  Mr.  Dart,  and 
corrected  and  enlarged  by  W.  T.  (i.  e.  himself.)  The  same  Mr. 
W.  Thomas  has  taken  a  great  deal  of  unnecessary  pains  in  collat 
ing  that  copy  of  Urry's  Edit,  with  several  Mss.  The  best  part  of 
the  various  readings  serves  only  to  correct  the  arbitrary  innovations 
which  Mr.  Urry  had  introduced  into  the  text.  He  has  employed 
himself  to  better  purpose  upon  the  Glossary,  where  he  has  made 
many  emendations  and  additions,  which  has  been  of  considerable 
use  in  the  Glossary. 


APPENDIX  TO  THE  PREFACE. 


planatory  notes  &c.  was  published  in  1737,  by  a 
Gentleman,  (as  I  am  informed,)  who  has  since  dis 
tinguished  himself  by  many  other  learned  and  use 
ful  publications.  He  appears  to  have  set  out  upon 
the  only  rational  plan  of  publishing  Chaucer,  by 
collating  the  best  Mss.  and  selecting  from  them  the 
genuine  readings ;  and  accordingly  his  edition,  as 
far  as  it  goes,  is  infinitely  preferable  to  any  of  those 
which  preceded  it. 


XXVI  APPENDIX  TO  THE  PEEFACE. 


(B)  A  LIST  OF  Mss.  COLLATED,  OR  CONSULTED, 
WITH  THE  ABBREVIATIONS  BY  WHICH  THEY 
ARE  CITED. 

IN  THE  MUSEUM. 

A.  Ms.  Had.  7335. 

B.  Ms.  Reg.  18  C.  ii.     In  Urry's  List,  vii. 

C.  Ms.  Harl.  7334. 

D.  Ms.  Reg.  17  LX  xv.     In  Urry's  List,  viii. 

E.  Ms.  Had.  7333. 

F.  Ms.  Had.  1758.     In  Urry's  List,  i. 

G.  Ms.  Sloane.  A.  1685.  xxii  D.  In  Urry's  List,  iii. 
H.  Ms.  Sloane.  A.  1686.  xxii.  D.  In  Urry's  List,  iv. 
I.  Ms.  Harl.  1239  .    In  Urry's  List,  ii. 

AT  OXFORD. 
In  the  Bodleian  Library. 

B.  «.  N°  2527.  in  the  printed  Catalogue. 

B.  €.  N°  1234.  Ibid. 

B.  y.  N°  1476.  Ibid. 

B.  S.  N°  3360.  Ibid. 

B.  «.  N°4138.  Ibid. 

B.  5.  N°  6420.  Ibid. 

N  C.  A  Ms.  in  the  Library  of  New  College. 


APPENDIX  TO  THE  PREFACE.  XXV11 


AT  CAMBRIDGE. 

C.  1.  In  the  Publick  Library.     N°  D.  d.  4.  24. 
C.  2.  Ibid.  NO  I.  i.  3.  26. 

T.     Ms.  in  the  Library  of  Trinity  College,  N°R.  3. 3. 
Tt.    Ibid.  N°  R.  3.  15. 

Ask.  1.  2.  Two  Mss.  lent  to  me  by  the  late  Dr.  As 
kew.     The  second  has  in  it  the  Arms  of  Henry 
Deane,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury.  1501 — 3. 
H  A.  A  Ms.  lent  to  me  by  Edward  Haistwell,  Esq. 
W.  A  Ms.  in  the  possession  of  the  late  Mr.  P.  C. 

Webb. 

Ch.  N.  Two  Mss.  described  in  the  Pref.  to  Ed. 
Urr.  the  one  as  belonging  to  Charles  Cholmonde- 
ley,  Esq.  of  Vale  Royal,  in  Cheshire,  and  the 
other  to  Mr.  Norton,  of  Southwick,  in  Hampshire. 
The  Editor  quotes  them  from  the  Collations  of 
Mr.  W.  Thomas,  mentioned  above  in  this  APP. 
A.  n.  (n). 

Of  these  Mss.  the  most  credit  is  certainly  due  to 
the  five  following,  viz.  A.  C.  1.  Ask.  1.  2.  and  HA. 
The  four  last  exhibit  the  Tales  in  exactly  the  same 
order  in  which  they  are  printed  in  this  edition ;  and 
so  does  A.  except  that  it  wants  the  Cokes  Tale  [See 
the  Discourse,  &c.  §.xiii.],  and  has  the  Nonnes  Tale 
inserted  between  the  Sompnoures  and  the  Clerkes. 


XXV111  APPENDIX  TO  THE  PREFACE. 


It  is  also  unluckily  very  imperfect ;  beginning  only 
at  ver.  1204.  and  ending  (with  several  intermediate 
breaks)  at  ver.  1*2610.  in  the  Pardoner's  Tale. 

N.  B.  The  Editt.  of  Chaucer  by  Caxton  and  Pyn- 
son  are  cited  by  these  abbreviations ;  Ca.  1.  2.  Pyns. 
1.  2. — Sp.  and  Urr.  are  put  for  the  Editt.  by  Speght 
and  Urry. — M.  stands  for  the  Edit,  of  the  Prologue 
and  Knight's  Tale  in  1 737-— The  other  Editt.  are 
cited  by  their  respective  dates.  If  no  date  is  men 
tioned,  the  reference  is  to  the  Edit,  of  1542  by  John 
Reyne. 


APPENDIX  TO  THE  PREFACE.  XXIX 


(C)  AN  ABSTRACT   OF  THE  HISTORICAL  PAS 
SAGES  OF  THE  LIFE  OF  CHAUCER. 

THE  Birth  of  Chaucer  in  1328  has  been  settled, 
I  suppose,  from  some  inscription  on  his  tomb-stone, 
signifying  that  he  died  in  1400,  at  the  age  of  72. 
Of  his  birth  itself  we  have  no  memorial,  any  more 
than  of  his  parents  (a).  He  calls  himself  a  Londe- 
nois,  or  Londoner,  in  the  Testament  of  Love.  B.  i.  fol. 
325.  and  in  another  passage,  fol.  321.  speaks  of  the 
city  of  London  as  the  place  of  his  engendrure. 

We  are  more  in  the  dark  about  the  place  of  his 
education.  In  *his  Court  of  Love,  ver.  912.  he 
speaks  of  himself  under  the  name  and  character  of 
"  Philogenet — of  Cambridge,  Clerk."  This  is  by 

(a)  Mr.  Speght  has  referred  to  several  Records  in  -which  the 
name  of  Chaucer  occurs.  There  is  mention  in  the  Monast.  Ang. 
vol.  iii.  p.  326.  of  a  Johannes  le  Chauser,  civis  Londoniensis,  an.  1299. 
who  may  possibly  have  been  our  Poet's  Grandfather.  Though 
Leland  says,  that  he  was  nobUi  loco  «a£ws^Mr.  Speght  informs  us, 
that  "  in  the  opinion  of  some  heralds — he'  oescended  not  of  any 
great  house,  which  they  gather  by  his  Armes."  I  am  inclined  to 
believe  the  Heralds,  rather  than  Leland. 

The  name  of  Chaucer  is  explained  [Life  of  Ch.  Urr.]  to  signify 
a  shoe-maker ;  but  it  rather  means  un  faiseur  de  chausses  ou  culot- 
tiers.  Diet  de  Lacombe,  v.  Chancier.  According  to  what  is  said 
to  be  the  old  spelling  of  it,  Chaucesir,  it  might  be  not  improbably 
derived  from  Chaufecire,  an  office,  which  still  subsists  under  the 
title  of  Chafewax. 


XXX  APPENDIX  TO  THE  PREFACE. 


no  means  a  decisive  proof  that  he  was  really  edu 
cated  at  Cambridge;  but  it  may  be  admitted,  I 
think,  as  a  strong  argument  that  he  was  not  edu 
cated  at  Oxford  ;  as  Leland  has  supposed,  without 
the  shadow  of  a  proof  (b).  The  Biographers  however, 
instead  of  weighing  one  of  these  accounts  against 
the  other,  have  adopted  both  ;  and  tell  us  very 
gravely,  that  he  was  first  at  Cambridge,  and  after 
wards  removed  from  thence  to  compleat  his  studies 
at  Oxford. 

It  were  to  be  wished  that  Mr.  Speght  had  given 
us  the  date  of  that  Record  in  the  Inner  Temple, 
(which  he  says,  a  Mr.  Buckley  had  seen,)  where 
"  Geffrey  Chaucer  was  fined  two  shillings  for  beat 
ing  a  Franciscane  frier  in  Fleet-street  (c)."  Leland 

(b)  The  single  circumstance,  by  which  Leland  has  endeavoured 
to  strengthen  his  supposition  thaf~Chaucer  was  educated  at  Ox 
ford,  is  another  supposition  that  he  was  born  in  Oxfordshire  or 
Berkshire.     The  latter  lias  been  shewn  above  to  be  false. 

(c)  Though  this  be  but  a  blind  story,  it  rather  inclines  me  to  be 
lieve  that  Chaucer  was  of  the  Inner  Temple  in  the  early  pan  of  his 
life,  before  'he  went  into  the  service  of  Edward  III.     The  circum 
stance  recorded  is  plainly  a  youthful  sally.     On  the  contrary,  Le 
land  supposes  his  principal  residence  in  the  Inns  of  Court  to  have 
been  after  he  had  flourished  in  France,  about  the  last  i/eors  of  Ri 
chard  II ;  which  is  totally  incredible.     Indeed  Leland,  through  his 
whole  account  of  our  author,  seems  to  have  considered  him  as 
living  at  least  twenty  years  later  than  he  really  did.     He  takes  no 
notice  of  the  best  authenticated  circumstances  of  Chaucer's  life  in 


APPENDIX   TO  THE   PREFACE.  XXXI 


has  also  told  us,  that  our  author  "  collegia  Legu- 
leiorum  frequentavit  after  his  travels  in  France,  and 
perhaps  before."  I  must  observe,  that  these  travels 
in  France  rest  entirely  upon  the  authority  of  Leland, 
whose  account  is  full  of  inconsistencies. 

The  first  authentic  memorial,  which  we  have  of 
Chaucer,  is  the  Patent  in  Rymer,  41 E.  III.  by  which 
the  King  grants  to  him  an  annuity  of  20  marks,  by 
the  title  of  Valettus  noster  (d).  He  was  then  in  the 

the  time  of  Edward  III ;  and  lie  represents  him  as  highly  esteemed 
by  Henry  IV,  and  HIS  SON,  qui  de  Gallis  triumphavit.  Henry  V. 
was  scarcely  xii  years' of  age,  when  Chaucer  died. 

(d)  Our  Yeoman?  Mr.  Speght,  who  omits  this  grant,  mentions 
one  of  the  same  purport  in  the  45  E.  III.  in  which  Chaucer  is 
styled  Valettus  Hospitii,  which  he  translates — Grome  of  the  Pallace. 
By  this  he  sinks  our  author  as  much  too  low  as  another  writer  has 
raised  him  too  high,  by  translating  the  same  words — Gentleman  of 
the  King's  Privy  Chamber  [Life  of  Cli.  Urr.].  Valet,  or  Yeoman, 
was  the  intermediate  rank  between  Squier  and  Grome.  See  the 
note  on  ver.  101.  See  also  the  Will  of  Edward  Duke  of  York,  ap. 
Rymer,  an.  1415.  where  his  legacies  to  his  menial  servants  are  thus 
arranged — a  un  Escuier  LS.  a  [un]  vadlet  xxs.  a  un  garc  [on...] 
&  a  un  page  vi  s.  vin  d. 

Valettus  is  probably  a  corruption  of  Vassalettus,  the  diminutive 
of  Vassallus.  Hence  this  title  was  also  given  (not  as  a  name  of 
service)  to  young  men  of  the  highest  quality  before  they  were 
knighted. 

II  ot  un  fiz  de  sa  mulier, 

Ki  neit  pas  uncore  chivaler, 

Vallet  esteit  et  beaus  et  gent. —     Roman  d'Ipomedon.     So 


XXX11  APPENDIX  TO  THE  PREFACE. 


39th  year  of  his  age.  How  long  he  had  served 
the  King  in  that,  or  any  other,  station,  and  what 
particular  merits  were  rewarded  by  this  royal 
bounty  (e),  are  points  equally  unknown. 

that  if  Edward  III,  as  Mr.  Speght  says,  "  did  entitle  Laurence 
Hastings,  Lord  of  Aburganey, — Valectum  nostrum"  I  should  guess, 
that  the  said  Lord  was  not  "  the  King's  grome,  page,  or  servant,' 
(as  he  supposes,)  or  his  yeoman,  (as  Chaucer  was,)  but  his  Ward* 
(e)  I  should  have  been  glad  to  have  met  with  any  ground  for  sup 
posing,  that  this  mark  of  Royal  favour  was  a  reward  of  our  author's 
poetical  merits.  That  Chaucer  had  before  this  time  distinguished 
himself  by  his  poetical  performances,  is  almost  certain.  I  have  men 
tioned  a  suspicion  [n.  on  ver.  1 920.]  that  the  Assembles  of  Foules 
alludes  to  the  Courtship  of  Blanche  of  Lancaster  by  John  of  Gaunt, 
who  married  her  in  1359,  the  33d  year  of  E.  III.  And  perhaps 
the  Complaint  of  the  Blacke  Knight  might  be  written  for  John  of 
Gaunt  during  the  same  Courtship.  It  is  still  more  probable  that 
his  Translation  of  the  Roman  de  la  Rose  and  his  Troilus  were  both 
composed  before  1367,  the  sera  of  which  we  are  speaking.  But  I 
think,  if  the  King  had  really  patronized  Chaucer  as  a  Poet,  we  must 
have  found  some  clear  evidence  of  such  a  connection.  If  the  one 
had  been  fond  of  verses,  the  other  would  certainly  have  given  him 
some ;  especially  as  he  might  have  exerted  his  genius  in  the  praise 
of  so  illustrious  a  Patron  without  any  necessity  of  flattering.  If 
we  consider  further,  that,  a  few  years  after,  the  King  appointed 
him  to  be  Comptroller  of  the  Custom  of  Wool,  &c.  in  the  Port  of 
London,  with  the  following  injunction  in  his  Patent, — "  So  that  the 
said  Geffrey  write  with  his  own  hand  his  rolls  touching  the  said 
office,  and  continually  reside  there,  and  do  and  execute  all  things 
pertaining  to  the  said  office  in  his  own  proper  person  and  not  by  his 
substitute,'' — we  shall  probably  be  of  opinion,  that  His  Majesty 


APPENDIX  TO  THE  PREFACE.  XXXHi 


From  this  time  we  find  frequent  mention  of  him 
in  various  public  instruments.  In  the  46  E.  III. 
[ap.  Rymer.]  the  King  appoints  him  Envoy  (with 
two  others)  to  Genoa,  by  the  title  of  Scutifer  noster 
(/).  In  the  48  E.  III.  he  has  a  grant  for  Life  of  a 

was  either  totally  insensible  of  our  author's  poetical  talents,  or  at 
least  had  no  mind  to  encourage  him  in  the  cultivation  or  exercise 
of  them.  It  should  seem  that  Edward,  though  adorned  with  many 
Royal  and  Heroic  virtues,  had  not  the  gift  of  discerning  and  pa 
tronizing  a  great  Poet ;  a  gift,  which,  like  that  of  genuine  Poetry, 
(if  we  may  believe  one,  who  perhaps  spoke  feelingly  upon  the  sub 
ject,)  is  only  bestowed  on  the  chosen  few  by  the  peculiar  favour  of 
heaven : 

—  neque  enim,  NISI  CARUS  AB  onxtj 

Dus  SU?ERIS,  poterit  MAGNO  favisse  POET*. 

Milton's  MANSUS. 

I  observe  however,  that,  notwithstanding  the  petrifying  quality, 
with  which  these  Custom-house  accounts  might  be  expected  to 
operate  upon  Chaucer's  genius,  he  probably  wrote  his  House  of 
Fame  while  he  was  in  that  office.  I  gather  this  from  B.  ii.  ver. 
144.  where  the  Eagle  says  to  him, — 

For  when  thy  labour  al  done  is, 

And  hast  made  all  thy  rekenynges, 

In  stede  of  rest  and  of  newe  thynges 

Thou  goest  home  to  thyne  house  anone,  &c. 
(_/")  Our  Squier ;  so  that  in  the  course  of  these  five  years  our 
author  had  been  promoted  from  the  rank  of  Yeoman,  to  that  of 
Squier,  attendant  upon  the  King.  Scutifer  and  Armiger,  LAT. 
are  synonymous  terms  for  the  French  Escitier.  The  Biographers 
thinking,  I  suppose,  the  title  of  Squier  too  vulgar,  have  changed  it 
into  Shield-bearer,  as  if  Chaucer  had  the  special  office  of  carrying 
the  King's  shield. 

VOL.   I.  d 


XXXiv  APPENDIX  TO  THE  PREFACE. 


Pitcher  of  wine  daily  [ap.  RymerJ] ;  and  in  the  same 
year  a  Grant,  during  pleasure,  of  the  Office  of 
Comptroller  of  the  custom  of  Wools,  &c.  in  the 
Port  of  London  [Ibid.~\.  In  the  49  E.  III.  the  King 
grants  to  him  the  Wardship  of  Sir  Edmund  Staple- 
gate's  Heir  [Mss.  Rymer,  E.  III.  vol.  xi.  n.  12.], 
for  which  he  received  1041.  [Ibid.  R.  II.  vol.  i.  n. 
16.];  and  in  the  next  year  some  forfeited  wool  to 
the  value  of  71 /.  4s.  6d.  [Life  of  Ch.  Urr.].  In  the 
last  year  of  Edward  III,  he  was  sent  to  France, 
with  Sir  Guichard  D'Angle  and  Richard  Stan,  [or 
Slurry],  to  treat  of  a  marriage  between  the  Prince 
of  Wales,  Richard,  and  a  daughter  of  the  French 
king  [Froissart,  v.  i.  ch.  325.]. 

In  the  next  year,  1  R.  II.  his  annuity  of  marks 
was  confirmed  to  him,  and  another  annuity  of  20 
marks  was  granted  to  him  in  lieu  of  the  Pitcher  of 
wine  daily.  [See  the  Licence  to  surrender  these 
grants  in  the  Life  of  Ch.  Urr.].  It  is  probable  too 
that  he  was  confirmed  in  his  Office  of  Comptroller, 
though  the  instrument  has  not  been  produced  (g). 

Some  observations  have  been  made  upon  this  appointment  of 
Chaucer,  as  Envoy  to  Genoa,  in  the  Discourse,  &c,  n.  20. 

(g)  J  his  is  probable,  I  think,  because  Chaucer,  in  his  Testa 
ment  of  Love,  frequently  alludes  to  his  loss  of  Office,  as  one  of  the 
greatest  misfortunes  brought  upon  him  by  his  meddling  in  those 
disturbances,  which  happened  in  the  city  of  London  in  the  7th  of 
R.  II.  When  he  fled,  to  avoid  being  examined  in  relation  to 


APPENDIX  TO  THE  PREFACE.  XXXV 


In  the  llth  of  R.  II.  he  had  the  King's  Licence  to 
surrender  his  two  grants  of  C20  marks  each  in  fa 
vour  of  John  Scalby  (A).  In  the  13th  R.  II.  he  ap- 

those  disturbances  (as  he  says,  Test,  of  L.  fol.  329.  b.),  he  was 
probably  superseded  in  his  Office. 

(fe)  This  Licence,  reciting  the  two  Grants,  is  printed  in  the  Life 
of  Ch.  Urr.  and  the  author  of  that  life  has  observed,  that  this  sur 
render  was  probably  occasioned  by  our  Author's  distressed  circum 
stances.  Either  he  despaired  of  procuring  payment  of  his  pensions, 
or  perhaps  wanted  to  raise  a  sum  of  ready  money.  The  same 
writer  has  extracted  from  the  Testament  of  Love  almost  all  that  is 
now  to  be  known  of  the  history  of  this  distress,  which  he  ascribes 
very  truly  to  Chaucer's  unfortunate  engagements  with  that  party 
in  the  city  of  London,  of  which  John  of  Northampton  was  at  the 
head.  What  the  »al  designs  of  that  party  were,  and  how  a  tri 
fling  City -riot,  as  it  seems  to  have  been,  come  to  be  treated  as  a  re 
bellion,  are  points  of  great  obscurity.  There  is  good  ground  to  be 
lieve  that  Northampton  was  connected  with  the  Duke  of  Lancas 
ter.  At  his  trial,  in  August  1384,  he  contended,  "  that  he  ought 
not  to  be  tried  in  the  absence  of  his  lord  the  Duke :"  57*0  verbo 
(says  Walsingham,  p.  310.)  suscitavit  suspicioiiem  sinistram  tarn 
milgi  quam  procerum  contra  Ducem.  He  was  condemned  however 
to  perpetual  imprisonment ;  in  which  he  remained  till  July  1390, 
when  (according  to  the  Monk  of  Evesham,  p.  122.)  ad  instantiam 
Duds  Lancastrian  Johannes  Northampton — et  socii  sui  nuper  de 
Londoniis  banniti,  restituti  sunt  ad  pristinas  libertates.  The  judge 
ment  against  him  was  reversed  in  Parliament  the  next  year,  Rot. 
Part.  14  R.  II.  n.  36.  and  he  was  restored  to  his  lands,  &c.  the 
year  following,  Uot.  Parl.  15.  R.  II.  n.  33.  This  connexfon  of 
Northampton  with  the  Duke  of  Lancaster  will  account  for  the 
part  which  Chaucer  appears  to  have  taken  in  this  unhappy  affair. 
He  was  very  early  attached  to  that  Duke,  and  was  at  this  time 
married  to  a  sister  of  Catharine  Swinford,  the  Duke's  mistress;  and 
it  is  observable  that  the  first  mark  of  royal  favour,  which  he  re- 


XXXvi  APPENDIX  TO  THE  PREFACE. 


pears  to  have  been  Clerk  of  the  works  at  West 
minster,  &c.  and  in  the  following  year  at  Windsor 
(i).  In  the  17th.  R.  II.  the  King  granted  to  him  a 
new  Annuity  of  twenty  pounds  [ap.  Rymer]  (k)  ; — 
in  the  21st,  his  Protection  for  two  years  [Ibid,]  ; — 
and  in  the  22d,  a  pipe  of  wine  annually  [Ibid].  In 
the  next  year,  the  1st  H.  IV.  his  two  grants,  of  the 

ceived  after  his  distresses,  was  bestowed  upon  him  at  the  same 
time  that  Northampton  received  his  pardon,  and  probably  through 
the  same  mediation. 

(i)  See  Tanner's  Bib.  Brit.  v.  CHAUCER,  n.  e.  It  may  justly 
be  doubted  whether  these  two  offices  together  indemnified  our  au 
thor  for  the  loss  of  his  former  office  in  the  Customs.  That  was 
probably  a  very  lucrative  one.  He  complains  of  "  being  berafte 
out  of  dignitie  of  Office,  in  which  he  made  a  gatheringe  of  worldly 
godes;"  and  in  another  place  he  speaks  of  himself  as  "  once  glori 
ous  in  worldly  welefulnesse,  and  having  suclie  godes  in  welthe  as- 
maken  men  riche."  [Test,  of  L.  fol.  326.  a.  b.]  But  that  he 
should  ever  have  been  possessed  of  "  lands  and  revenues  to  the 
yearly  value  almost  of  a  thousand  pounds,"  (according  to  the  tra 
dition  repeated  by  Mr.  Speght,)is  quite  incredible. 

(fc)  If  Chaucer  was  ever  possessed  ot  Dunnington-castle  in. 
Berkshire,  (as  his  Biographers  suppose  he  was,)  he  must  have 
purchased  it  about  this  time ;  for  it  appears  to  have  been  in  the 
possession  of  Sir  Richard  Abberbury  in  the  16th  year  of  R.  II. 
Monast.  Aug.  ii.  474.  We  have  no  proof  of  any  such  purchase, 
and  the  situation  of  his  affairs  makes  it  highly  improbable.  The 
tradition,  which  Mr.  Evelyn  mentions  in  his  Sylva,  of  an  oak  in 
Dunnington  park  called  Chaucer's  oak,  may  be  sufficiently  ac 
counted  for  without  supposing  that  it  was  planted  by  Chaucer  him* 
self,  as  the  Castle  was  undoubtedly  in  the  hands  of  Thomas 
Chaucer  for  many  years. 


APPENDIX  TO  THE  PREFACE.  XXXV11 


Annuity  of  20/.  and  of  the  Pipe  of  wine,  were-  con 
firmed  to  him  [Mss.  Rymer,  H.  IV.  vol.  i.  n.  27.], 
and  at  the  same  time,  he  had  an  additional  grant  of 
an  Annuity  of  40  Marks  [Ibid.  n.  15.].  He  died, 
according  to  the  inscription  on  his  tomb-stone,  in 
the  beginning  of  the  2  H.  IV.  on  the  25th  of  Octo 
ber,  1400. 

These,  I  think,  are  the  principal  facts  in  Chau 
cer's  life,  which  are  attested  by  authentic  evi 
dences  (/).  We  learn  from  himself,  in  his  Treatise 

(Z)  It  appears  further  from  the  Exitus,  Pasch.  4  R.  II.  [Mss. 
Rymer,  R.  11.  vol  ii.  n.  3.]  that  Chaucer,  on  the  24  May,  1381, 
received  at  the  Exchequer  a  half-year's  payment  of  his  own  two 
annuities  of  20  marks  each,  and  also  a  half-year's  payment  of  an 
annuity  of  10  marks,  granted  by  E  III.  and  confirmed  by  R.  II. 
to  his  wife  Philippa,  nuper  uiti  domicellarum  Philippee,  nuper  Re- 
gince  Anglia.  The  title  given  to  her  of  domicella  proves  that  she 
was  unmarried  at  the  time  of  her  being  in  the  Queen's  service. 
There  is  a  Patent  in  Rymer,  43  E.  111.  by  which  the  King,  about 
four  months  after  Queen  Philippa's  death,  grants  annuities  to  nine 
of  her  DomicelltE,  viz  to  four  of  them  10  marks,  to  two  5  pounds, 
and  to  three  5  marks.  One  of  them  is  called  Philippa  I'ykard, 
and  might  very  well  be  supposed  to  be  the  lady  whom  Chaucer 
afterwards  married,  if  it  were  not  for  two  objections,  i.that  the  an 
nuity  granted  to  her  is  only  5  pounds,  wheieas  Chaucer's  wife  ap 
pears  by  this  record  to  have  had  one  of  10  marks;  and  V.  that  the 
Historians,  though  they  own  themselves  totally  ignorant  of  the 
Christian  name  of  Chaucer's  wife,  are  all  agreed  that  her  surname 
was  lionet,  the  same  with  that  of  .her  father  and  eldest  sister,  Ca 
tharine  Swynford.  The  first  objection  might  be  got  over  by  sup 
posing  that  her  annuity,  though  at  first  only  5  pounds,  was  en-- 


XXXV111  APPENDIX  TO  THE  PREFACE. 


on  the  Astrolabe,  that  he  had  a  son,  called  Lowis, 
who  was  ten  years  of  age  in  1391.  It  is  the  only 
circumstance,  as  I  recollect,  relating  to  his  family, 
of  which  he  has  informed  us.  A  few  other  histori 
cal  particulars  relating  to  himself,  which  may  be 
collected  from  his  writings,  have  been  taken  notice 
of  already  ;  and  perhaps  a  more  attentive  examina 
tion  of  his  works  might  furnish  a  few  more.  We 

creased  (perhaps  upon  her  marriage  with  Chaucer)  to  10  marks. 
As  to  the  other  point,  it  is  not  impossible  that  the  father,  and  the 
eldest  sister,  who  was  his  heiress  [See  Pat.  13  H.  IV.  p.  1.  m.  35. 
ap.  Rymer  ],  might  bear  the  name  of  de  Rouet,  (or  de  Roelt,  as  it  is 
in  the  Pat.  13  H.  IV.  just  quoted,)  from  some  estate  in  their  pos 
session,  and  yet  the  younger  Sister  might  be  called  by  the  family- 
name  of  Pykard. 

If  the  records  of  payments  at  the  Exchequer  for  the  eleven  years 
preceding  1381  are  still  in  being,  they  may  enable  us  to  clear  up 
these  doubts,  and  also,  perhaps,  to  ascertain  very  nearly  the  time 
of  Chaucer's  marriage,  as  they  will  probably  shew  when  he  began 
to  receive  his  wife's  annuity,  if  this  last  point  were  ascertained, 
we  should  know  better  what  to  think  of  the  relation  of  Thomas 
Chaucer  to  our  author.  Mr.  Speght  informs  us,  "  that  some  held 
opinion,  that  Thomas  C.  was  not  the  sonne  of  Geffrey,"  and  there 
are  certainly  many  circun-stances  which  might  incline  us  to  that 
opinion.  I  was  in  hopes  of  meeting  with  some  light  upon  this 
subject  in  a  Poem  which  Lydgate  is  said  to  have  written,  entitled, 
"  A  Complaint  upon  the  departure  of  Thomas  Chaucer  into  France, 
upon  the  Kynges  Ambassate."  A  Poem,  with  this  title,  is  extant 
in  Ms.  Harl.  367.  33.  in  the  hand- writing  of  J.  Stowe,  but  upon 
inspection  I  found  it  to  be  a  mere  love-ballad,  without  the  least 
imaginable  reference  to  Thomas  Chaucer. 


APPENDIX  TO  THE  PREFACE.  XXXIX 


must  be  cautious  however,  in  such  an  examination, 
of  supposing  allusions  which  Chaucer  never  in 
tended,  or  of  arguing  from  pieces  which  he  never 
wrote,  as  if  they  were  his.  We  must  not  infer  from 
his  repeated  commendations  of  the  Daysie-flower, 
that  he  was  specially  favoured  by  Margaret,  Coun 
tess  of  Pembroke  (m) ;  and  still  less  should  we  set 

(m)  I  can  find  no  other  foundation  for  this  notion.  Mr.  Speght, 
who  first  started  it,  says,  that  "  it  may  appeare  in  divers  treatises 
by  him  written :  as  in  the  Prologue  of  the  Legend  of  good  women 
under  the  name  of  the  Daysie  ;  and  likewise  in  a  Ballad,  beginning 
In  the  setison  of  Fevericr.''  The  Ballad  is  among  the  additions 
made  by  John  Stowe  to  Chaucer's  works  in  1561,  and,  like  the 
greatest  part  of  those  additions,  is  of  very  dubious  authority,  to  nse 
the  gentlest  terms.  But  supposing  it  genuine,  there  is  nothing  in 
it  to  make  us  believe  that  it  had  any  reference  to  the  Countess  of 
Pembroke.  That  its  commendations  of  the  Daysie  ought  not  to 
weigh  with  us  is  very  plain  from  the  other  piece  cited  by  Mr. 
Speght :  for  the  Legende  of  good  women,  in  which  he  imagines  "  the 
Lady  Margaret  to  be  honoured  under  the  name  of  the  Daysie," 
was  certainly  not  written  till  at  least  twelve  years  after  that  Lady's 
death.  [See  the  Discourse,  &c.  n.  3.  for  the  date  of  the  Legende. 
The  Countess  Margaret  must  have  died  not  later  than  1370,  as  the 
Earl's  son,  by  his  second  wife  Anne,  was  about  nineteen  years  ot 
age,  when  he  was  killed  in  a  tournament  in  1391,  Hollinshed,  p. 
471.]  It  is  possible  that  le  dit  de  lafleur  de  lis  et  dela  Margue 
rite  by  Guillaume  de  Machaut  [Acad.  des  Insc.  t.  xx.  p.  381.], 
and  the  Dittie  de  laflnur  de  la  Margherite  by  Froissart  [Ibid.  t.  x. 
p.  669.],  (neither  of  which  had  the  least  relation  to  the  Countess 
of  Pembroke,)  might  furnish  us  with  the  true  key  to  those  mysti 
cal  compliments,  which  our  poet  has  paid  to  the  Daysie-flower. 


APPENDIX  TO  THE  PREFACE. 


him  down  as  a  follower  of  Alain  Chartier  (n),  be 
cause  his  Editors  have  falsely  ascribed  to  him  a 
translation  of  one  of  Alain's  poems. 

(n)  Leland  was  the  first  author  of  this  story,  which  is  totally  in 
consistent  with  Chronology.  The  time  of  Alain's  birth  has  not 
been  settled  with  precision 4  but  he  was  certainly  living  near  40 
years  after  Chaucer's  death;  which  makes  it  morally  impossible 
that  the  latter  should  have  followed  him,  in  his  attempts  to  polish 
his  native  language.  Instead  therefore  of  supposing  from  the 
translation  of  La  belle  dame  sans  mercie  that  Chaucer  imitated 
Alain  Chartier,  we  should  rather  conclude,  that  he  was  not  the  au 
thor  of  that  translation ;  which  indeed  in  Ms.  Harl.  372.  is  ex 
pressly  attributed  to  a  Sir  Richard  Ros. 

I  will  just  take  notice  of  another  opinion,  (which  has  been 
propagated  upon  as  little  foundation,)  that  Chaucer  imitated  the 
Provencal  poets.  Mr.  Rymer,  who,  I  believe,  first  made  the  dis 
covery,  speaks  only  of  his  having  borrowed  from  their  language 
[View  of  Trag.  p.  78.],  but  Mr.  Dryden  found  out,  that  he  com 
posed  after  their  manner,  particularly  his  tale  of  the  Flower  and  the 
Leaf.  [Pref.  to  Fables.].  Mr.  Warton  also  thinks,  that  the  House 
of  Fame  "  was  originally  a  Provencial  composition."  [Hist,  of  Eng 
lish  Poetry,  p.  389.  458.] 

How  far  Chaucer's  language  was  borrowed,  has  been  considered 
in  the  Essay,  &c.  Part.  i.  I  will  only  add,  that  I  have  not  ob 
served  in  any  of  his  writings  a  single  phrase  or  word,  which  has 
the  least  appearance  of  having  been  fetched  by  him  from  the  South 
of  the  Loire.  With  respect  to  the  manner  and  matter  of  his  compo 
sitions,  till  some  clear  instance  of  imitation  be  produced,  I  shall  be 
slow  to  believe  that  in  either  he  ever  copied  the  poets  of  Provence, 
with  whose  works,  1  apprehend,  he  had  very  little,  if  any,  ac 
quaintance. 


AN  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  WORKS  OF  CHAUCER  TO 
WHICH  THE  GLOSSARY  is  ADAPTED;  AND  OF 
THOSE  OTHER  PlECES  WHICH  HAVE  BEEN  IM 
PROPERLY  INTERMIXED  WITH  HIS  IN  THE 
EDITIONS. 


OF  the  CANTERBURY  TALES,  the  greatest  work 
of  Chaucer,  it  is  needless  to  repeat  what  has  been 
said  in  different  parts  of  this  Edition ;  particularly 
in  the  App.  to  the  Preface,  A.  and  also  in  the  Intro 
ductory  Discourse.  One  of  the  earliest  of  his  other 
works  was  probably 

I.  THE  ROMAUNT  OF  THE  ROSE.     He  speaks  of 
it  himself  in  L  W.  329.  and  441.     It  is  professedly 
a  translation  of  the  French  Roman  de  la  Rose,  and 
many   gross    blunders    in    the   printed   text    may 
be  corrected  by  comparing  it  with  the   Original. 
Dr.  Hunter  was  so  obliging  as  to  lend  me  a  MS. 
of  this  poem  (the  only  one  that  I  have  ever  heard 
of),  which  has  occasionally  been  consulted  to  good 
advantage  ;  but  it  does  not  supply  any  of  the  most 
material  defects  of  the  printed  Editions.     See  Vol. 
IV.  p.  343. 

II.  TROILUS  AND  CRESEIDE,  in  V.  Books.    This 
Poem  is  also  mentioned  by  our  author  in  L  W. 

VOL.  i.  e 


xlii  AN  ACCOUNT,  &c. 


332  and  441.  It  is  for  the  most  part  a  translation 
of  the  Filostrato  of  Boccace  ;  but  with  many  varia 
tions,  and  such  large  additions,  that  it  contains 
above  2700  lines  more  than  its  original.  See  the 
Essay,  &c.  n.  62.  and  Vof.  IV.  p.  340. 

There  are  several  MSS.  of  this  poem  in  the  Bod 
leian  library  and  in  the  Museum,  which  have  been 
occasionally  consulted. 

III.  THE  COURT  OF    LOVE   was    first  printed 
among  the  additions  made  to  Chaucer's  works  by 
John  Stowe,  in  the  Edition  of  1561.      One  might 
reasonably  have  expected  to  find  it  mentioned  in 
L  W.  Zoc.  cit.  but  notwithstanding  the  want  of  that 
testimony  in  its  favour,  I  am  induced  by  the  inter 
nal  evidence  to  consider   it  as  one  of  Chaucer's 
genuine  productions.      I  have  never  heard  of  any 
MS.  of  this  poem. 

IV.  THE  COMPLAINT  OF  PITEE.     So  this  Poem 
is  entitled  in  MS.  HarL  78.     It  is  extant  also  in 
MS.  Bodl.  Fairf.  16.     The  subject  is  alluded  to  in 
the  Court  of  Love,  ver.  700.  seq. 

V.  OF  QUENE  ANNELIDA  AND  FALSE  ARCITE, 
with  the  COMPLAINT  OF  ANNELIDA.     The  storie 
of  this  poem  is  said  in  ver.  10.  to  have  been  origi 
nally  in  Latin;  and  in  ver.  21.  Chaucer  names  the 
authors  whom  he  professes  to  follow.     "  First  folwe 


AN  ACCOUNT,  &e:  xliii 


I  STAGE  and  after  him  COUINNE."  As  the  open 
ing  only  is  taken  from  Statius,  [L.  IV.  v.  519.]  we 
must  suppose  that  Corinnv  furnished  the  remainder ; 
but  who  Corinne  was  is  not  easy  to  guess.  [See 
the  Gloss,  in  v.  GORINNE.]  It  should  be  observed, 
that  the  Arctic,  whose  infidelity  is  here  com 
plained  of,  is  quite  a  different  person  from  the 
Arcite  of  the  Knightes  tale ;  from  which  circum 
stance  we  may  perhaps  be  allowed  to  infer,  that 
this  poem  was  written  before  Chaucer  had  met  with 
the  Theseida. 

It  is  extant  in  MSS.BorZ.  372.  and  BodL  Fairf.  16. 

VI.  THE  ASSEMBLES  OF  FOULES  is  mentioned 
by  Chaucer  himself  in  L  W.  419.  under  the  title  of 
"  The  Parlement  offoules"  In  MS.  BodL  Fairf.  16. 
it  is  entitled  "  The  Parlement  of  Briddes." 

The  opening  of  this  poem  is  built  upon  the  Som- 
nium  Scipionis  of  Cicero,  as  it  appears  at  the  head 
of  Macrobiuses  commentary.  The  description  of  a 
Garden  and  Temple,  from  ver.  1 83  to  ver.  287,  is 
almost  entirely  taken  from  Boccaces  description  of 
the  Temple  of  Venus  in  the  VH  book  of  the  The 
seida.  See  the  n.  on  ver.  1920.  I  have  found*  no 
reason  to  retract  the  suspicion  there  intimated  as  to 
the  date  of  this  poem  ;  nor  can  I  confirm  it  by  any 
external  evidence. 


xllV  AN  ACCOUNT,  &c. 


VII.  THE  COMPLAINT  OF  THE  BLACK  KNIGHT, 
in  MSS.  Bodl.  Fairf.  16.  and  Bod.  638.  is  entitled 
"  Complaint  of  a  lover's  life."     I  do  not  wish  much 
confidence  to  be  given  to  the  conjecture,  in  App.  to 
the  Pref.  C.  n.  (e)  that  this  poem  relates  to  John  of 
Gaunt. 

VIII.  CHAUCER'S  A.  B.   c.  was  first  printed  in 
Mr.  Speght's  3d  Edit,  in  1602.     It  is  said,  in  the 
title,  to  have  been  composed  at  the  request  of  the 
Duchesse  Blanche.      If  that  be  true,  it  ought  to  be 
placed  before. 

IX.  THE    BOOKE   OF    THE    DUCHESSE,    which 
Chaucer  himself  has  mentioned  by  the  title  of  "  The 
deth  of  Blaunche  the  Duchesse."  L  W.  418.     See  an 
account  of  this  poem  in  the  n.  on  ver.  4467-  and 
Vol.  IV.  p.  341. 

X.  THE  HOUSE  OF  FAME  is  mentioned  by  Chau 
cer  himself  in  L  W.  417-     It  was  probably  written 
while  he  was  comptroller  of  the  custom  of  wools, 
and  consequently  not  earlier  than  1374.     See  the 
passage  from  B.  II.  quoted  in  the  App.  to  the  Pref. 
C.  n.  (e).     It  is  extant  in  MSS.  Bodl.  Fairf.  16.  and 
Bod.  638. 

XL  CHAUCER'S  DREME  was  first  printed  in  Mr. 
Speght's  Edit,  of  his  works  in  1597-  Bale  seems 
to  speak  of  it  under  the  title,  "  De  castello 


AN   ACCOUNT,  &C.  xlv 

dominarum.  Lib.  i."  The  supposed  plan  of  this 
poem,  prefixed  to  it  by  Mr.  Speght,  is  a  mere 
fancy;  but  there  is  no  ground  for  doubting  the 
authenticity  of  the  poem  itself. 

When  I  imagined  that  a  passage  in  this  Dreme 
[ver.  1820 — 1926.]  was  probably  copied  from  the 
Lay  of  Elidus  [Discourse,  &c.  n.  24.],  I  did  not  re 
collect,  that  the  incident  there  related  is  very  si 
milar  to  one  in  the  Grecian  fabulous  history  [See 
Hyginus,  fab.  CXXXVI.  de  Polyido.],  and  there 
fore  might  easily  have  come  to  Chaucer  through 
some  other  channel. 

XII.  THE  FLOUR  AND  THE  LEFE  was  also  printed 
for  the  first  time  in  the  Edit,  of  1597 ;  but  I  do  not 
think  its  authenticity  so  clear  as  that  of  the  pre 
ceding  poem.     The  subject,  at  least,  is  alluded  to 
by  Chaucer  in  L  W.  188—194. 

XIII.  THE  LEGENDE  OF  GOODE  WOMEN  is  ex 
tant  in  MSS.  Bodl.  Arch.  Seld,  B.  24.  and  Fairf. 
16.     For  the  time  of  its  composition  see  the  Dis 
course,  &c.  n.  3.     See  also  the  n.  on  ver.  4481. 
An   additional   argument,    for   believing   that  the 
number  intended  was  nineteen,  may  be  drawn  from 
the   Court  of  Love,  ver.  108.  where,   speaking  of 
Alceste,  Chaucer  says — 

"  To  whom  obeyed  the  ladies  gode  ninetene," 
VOL.  I.  f 


xlvi  AN  ACCOUNT,  &c. 


XIV.  THE  COMPLAINT  OF  MARS  AND  VENUS 
is  said,  in  the  conclusion,  to  have  been  translated 
from  the  French  of  Graunson ;  probably  that  Otho 
de  Graunson,  who  was  retained  in  the  military  ser 
vice  of  Richard  II,  with  an  annuity  of  200  marks. 
[Pat.  17  R.  II.  p.  1.  m.  6.  ap.  Rymer.]  Mr.  Speght 
mentions  a  tradition  (if  I  understand  him  right) 
that  this  poem  was  originally  made  of  the  Lady 
Elizabeth,  daughter  to  John  of  Gaunt,  (whom  he 
calls  King  of  Spaine,)  and  her  husband  the  Lord 
John  Holland,  half-brother  to  Richard  II.  I  can 
not  see  any  thing  in  the  poem  itself  that  counte 
nances  this  particular  notion,  though  I  have  little 
doubt,  that  it  was  intended  to  describe  the  situa 
tion  of  some  two  lovers  under  a  veil  of  mystical  al 
legory. 

This  poem  is  extant  in  MSS.  Bodl.  Arch.  Seld. 
B.  24.  and  Fairf.  16.  In  MS.  Harl.  7333.  it  is  en 
titled  "  The  broche  of  Thebes  as  of  the  love  of  Mars 
and  Venus  ;"  which  inclines-  me  to  believe,  that  it  is 
the  poem,  mentioned  by  Lydgate,  and  from  him  by 
Bale,  which  has  of  late  been  supposed  to  be  lost. 
Lydgate's  words  are — 

Of  Annelida  and  of  false  Arcite 
He  made  a  complaynt  dolefull  and  piteous, 
And  of  the  broche  which  that  Vulcanus 
At  Thebes  wrought,  full  divers  of  nature. 

Prol.  to  Trag.  Sign.  A.  ii.  b. 


AN  ACCOUNT,  &c. 

From  this  passage  Bale,  as  I  suppose,  deceived  by 
the  ambiguous  sense  of  the  word  broche,  has  at 
tributed  to  Chaucer  a  poem  "  De  Vulcani  veru ;" 
Of  Vulcan's  spit.  He  should  have  said  "  De 
Vulcani  gemmd,  or  monili.  See  BROCHE  in  the 
Glossary. 

This  broche  of  Thebes,  from  which  the  whole 
poem  is  here  supposed  to  have  taken  its  title,  is 
described  at  large  in  the  Complaint  of  Mars,  ver. 
93 — 109.  The  first  idea  of  it  seems  to  have  been 
derived  from  what  Statius  has  said  of  the  fatal 
necklace  made  by  Vulcan  for  Harmonia.  Theb.  II. 
265 — 305.  Lydgate  refers  us  to  Ovide;  but  I 
cannot  find  any  thing  in  him  upon  the  subject. 

XV  <  THE  CUCKOW  AND  THE  NIGHTINGALE  in 
MS.  Fairf.  16.  is  entitled  "  The  boke  of  Cupide  God 
of  Love"  It  is  extant  also  in  MS.  Bod.  638. 
and  as  far  as  ver.  235.  in  Arch.  Seld.  B.  24.  and 
might  be  much  improved  and  augmented  with 
some  lines  from  those  MSS.  The  Ballade  of 
three  Stanzas  with  an  Envoye,  which  seems  to 
belong  to  this  poem  in  the  Editt.  does  not  appear 
at  all  in  MS.  Bod.  638.  In  MS.  Fairf.  16.  it  is  at 
the  end  of  the  Booke  of  the  Duchesse.  I  cannot 
believe  that  it  was  written  by  Chaucer. 

Beside   these  more  considerable  works    it   ap- 


xlviii  AN  ACCOUNT,  &c. 


pears  from  LW.  422.  430.  that  our  author  had 
composed  many  "  balades,  roundels,  virelayes"  that 
he  had  "  made  many  a  lay  and  many  a  thing."  A 
few  pieces  of  this  sort^re  still  extant,  but  hardly 
any,  I  think,  of  so  early  a  date  as  the  Legende.  I 
will  set  them  down  here  as  they  stand  in  the  Editt. 

1.  L' envoy  de  Chaucer  a  Bukton.     Beginning, 
My  maister  Bukton,  whan  of  Christ,  &c. 

So  this  little  poem  is  entitled  in  MS.  Fairf.  16.  It 
has  always  been  printed  at  the  end  of  the  Booke  of 
the  Duchesse,  with  an  &c.  in  the  first  line  instead 
of  the  name  of  Bukton  ;  and  in  Mr.  Urry's  Edit, 
the  following  most  unaccountable  note  is  prefixed 
to  it.  "  This  seems  an  Envoy  to  the  Duke  of  Lan 
caster  after  his  loss  of  Blanch." 

From  the  reference  to  the  Wife  of  Bathe,  ver. 
29.  I  should  suppose  this  to  have  been  one  of  our 
author's  later  compositions,  and  find  that  there 
was  a  Peter  de  Buketon,  the  King's  Escheator  for 
the  County  of  York,  in  1397,  [Pat.  20.  R.  II.  p.  2. 
m.  3.  ap.  Rymer.]  to  whom  this  poem,  from  the  fa 
miliar  style  of  it,  is  much  more  likely  to  have  been 
addressed  than  to  the  Duke  of  Lancaster. 

2.  Balade  sent  to  King  Richard. 
Beginn.  Sometime  the  world,  &c. 

So  this  poem  is  entitled  in  MS.  Harl.  E.     It  is 


AN  ACCOUNT,  &c. 

extant  also  in  Fairf.   16.  and  in  Cotton.   Otho.  A. 
XVIII. 

3.  Balade  beginning — Fie  fro  the  prese,  &c.   In 
MS.  Cotton.  Otho.  A.  XVIII.  this  balade  is  said  to 
have  been  made  by  Chaucer  "  upon  his  death-bed, 
lying  in  his  anguish ;"  but  of  such  a  circumstance 
some  further  proof  should  be  required.     It  is  found, 
without  any  such  note,  in  MS.  Arch.   Seld.  B.  24. 
and  Fairf.  16. 

4.  Balade  of  the  village. 

Beginn.  This  wretched  worldes,  &c. 
It  is  extant  in  MS.  Fairf.  16.   and  Bod.  638.    In 
MS.  Ashmol.  59.  it  is  said  to  have  been  translated 
from  the  French.     Tanner,  in  v.  CHAUCEU. 

5.  L'Envoy  de  Chaucer  a  Skogan. 
Beginn.  Tobroken  ben  the  Statutes,  &c. 

So  this  poem  is  entitled  in  MS.  Fairf.  16.  Among 
a  number  of  people  of  all  sorts,  who  had  letters  of 
protection  to  attend  Richard  II.  upon  his  expedi 
tion  to  Ireland  in  1399,  is  Henricus  Scogan,  drmiger. 
This  jocose  expostulation  was  probably  addressed 
to  him  by  our  author  some  years  before,  when 
Scogan's  interest  at  court  may  be  supposed  to 
have  been  better  than  his  own. 

6.  Chaucer  to  his  emptie  purse. 
Beginn.  To  you,  my  purse,  &c. 


1  AN  ACCOUNT,  &C. 


This  balade  is  extant  in  MS.  Fairf.  16.  and  in 
Cotton.  Otho.  A.  XVIII.  The  Envoy  appears  to 
be  addressed  to  Henry  the  4th. 

7.  Balade  beg'mmngx-Thejirste  stock,  &c. 
These   three  Stanzas    have   been   preserved   in    a 
"  Moral  Balade  by  Henry  Scogan ;"  of  which  some 
notice  will  be  taken  below. 

8.  Proverbes  by  Chaucer. 

Beginn.  What  shal  these  clothes,  &c. 
So  this  little  piece  is  entitled  in  MS.  Harl.  7578. 
It  evidently  contains  two  distinct  Proverbs,  or  Mo 
ral  admonitions. 

9.  Chaucer's  wordes  to  his  Scrivenere. 
Beginn.  Adam  Scrivenere,  &c. 

A  proof  of  his  attention  to  the  correctness  of  his 
writings.  See  also  T.  V.  1794,  5. 

The  works  of  Chaucer  in  prose  are, 

I.  A    TRANSLATION     OF    BoETHIUS     de    COHSOla- 

tione  Philosophic,  which  he  has  mentioned  himself 
in  L  W.  ver.  425. 

II.  A  TREATISE  ON  THE  ASTROLABE,  addressed 
to  his  son  Loicis,  in  1391.     It  is  plain  from  what  is 
said  at  the   beginning   of  this   treatise,  that  the 
printed  copies  do  not  contain  more  than  two  of  the 
five  parts,  of  which  it  was  intended  to  consist. 


AN    ACCOUNT,  &C.  11 


III.  THE  TESTAMENT  OF  LOVE  is  evidently  an 
imitation  of  Boethius  de  consolatione  Philosophic. 
It  seems  to  have  been  begun  by  our  author  after 
his  troubles,  in  the  middle  part  of  the  reign  of 
Richard  II,  and  to  have  been  finished  about  the 
time  that  Gower  published  his  Confessio  Amantis, 
in  the  16th  year  of  that  reign.  At  least  it  must 
then  have  been  far  advanced,  as  Gower  mentions  it 
by  its  title.  Cow/.  Am.  190  b. 

The  foregoing  I  consider  as  the  genuine  works 
of  Chaucer.  Of  those,  which  have  been  impro 
perly  intermixed  with  his  in  the  Editions,  the 
following  are  known  to  be  the  works  of  other  au 
thors. 

1.  The  Testament  and  Complaint  of  Creseide  ap 
pears  from  ver.  41.  not  to  have  been  written  by 
Chaucer ;  and  Mr.  Urry  was  informed  "  by  Sir 
James  Ereskin,  late  Earl  of  Kelly,  and  diverse 
aged  scholars  of  the  Scottish  nation,"  that  the 
true  author  was  "  Mr.  ROBERT  HENDERSON,  chief 
School-master  of  Dumferlin,  a  little  time  before 
Chaucer  was  first  printed,  and  dedicated  to  King 
Henry  VIII.  by  Mr.  Thynne."  I  suppose,  the 


Hi  AN  ACCOUNT,  &C. 


same  person  is  meant  that  is  called  ROBERT 
HENRYSONE  in  "  Ancient  Scottish  Poenis,"  where 
several  of  his  compositions  maybe  seen,  from  p.  98 
to  p.  138. 

2.  The  fioure  of  Courtesie  is  said,  in  the  title,  to 
have  been  made  by  JOHN  LYDGATE. 

3.  La  belle  dame  sans  mercie,  a  translation  from 
Alain  Chartier,  is  attributed  in  MS.  Harl.  3*2.  to 
Sir  RICHARD  Ros.  See  App.  to  the  Pref.  C.  n.  (n). 
Upon  looking  further  into  Alain's  works  I  find  a 
Balade  upon  the  taking  of  Fougieres  by  the  Eng 
lish  in  1448  [Oeuvres  d'Al.   Chartier,  p.  7 17-]  ;   so 
that  he  was  certainly  living  near/z/fy  years   after 
Chaucer's  death  ;  which  makes  it  quite  incredible 
that    the  latter  should  have  translated  any   thing 
of  his. 

4.  The   letter  of  Cupide  is  dated  in  1402,  two 
years   after  Chaucer's  death.     It  was  written    by 
THOMAS   OCCLEVE,  who  mentions    it  himself,  as 
one  of  his  own  compositions,  in  a  Dialogue  which 
follows  his  Complaint.  MS.  Bodl.  1504. 

"  Yes,  Thomas,  yes,  in  the  epistle  of  Cupide 
Thou  hast  of  hem  so  largelich  seid." 

5.  Joflfcr  GOWER  unto  the  noble  King  Henry  the 
4th,  with  some  Latin  verses  of  the  same  author. 


AN  ACCOUNT,  &c.  1111 

6.  Sayings  O/DAN  JOHN  [LYDGATE]. 

7.  SCOGAN  unto  the  lordes  and  gentlemen  of  the 
Kynges  house. 

So  the  title  of  this  poem  is  expressed  in  the  old 
Editt.  but,  according  to  Mr.  Speght,  in  the  writ 
ten  copies  it  is  thus.  "  Here  followeth  a  moral 
balade  to  the  Prince,  the  Duke  of  Clarence,  the 
Duke  of  Bedford,  the  Duke  of  Glocester,  the  King's 
sonnes ;  by  Henry  Scogan,  at  a  supper  among 
the  Marchants  in  the  Vintry  at  London  in  the 
house  of  Lewis  John."  This  cannot  be  quite  ac 
curate  ;  as  neither  of  the  two  younger  sons  of 
Henry  IV.  had  the  title  of  Duke  while  their  eldest 
brother  was  Prince ;  but  I  find  that  there  was 
about  that  time,  a  Lewis  John,  a  Welshman,  who 
was  naturalized  by  act  of  Parliament,  2  H.  V. 
and  who  was  concerned  with  Thomas  Chaucer  in 
the  execution  of  the  office  of  Chief  Butler.  Rot. 
Parl.  2  H.  V.  n.  18.  The  same  person,  probably, 
was  appointed  Remitter  of  all  monies  that  should 
be  sent  to  Rome  for  three  years,  ap  Rymer.  an. 
eodem. 

The  article  concerning  Skogan  in  Tanner's  Bibl. 
Brit,  is  a  heap  of  confusion.  He  is  there  called 
John;  is  said  to  have  been  a  Master  of  arts  of 


llV  AN  ACCOUNT,  &C- 


Oxford  and  jester  to  K.  Edward  VI  (perhaps  a 
misprint  for  IV)  ;  to  have  been  contemporary  with 
Chaucer,  and  famous  in  the  year  1480.  In  a  col 
lection  of  foolish  stories,  which  is  supposed  to 
have  been  first  published  by  Dr.  Andrew  Borde, 
in  the  time  of  Henry  VIII,  under  the  title  of  Sco- 
gan's  jests,  he  is  called  Thomas ;  and  there  too  he 
is  represented  as  a  Graduate,  I  think,  of  Oxford, 
and  as  jester  to  some  King,  but  without  any  cir 
cumstances  sufficient  to  determine  what  King  is 
meant. 

I  am  inclined  to  believe  that  the  Scogan,  who 
wrote  this  poem,  is  rightly  named  Henry  in  Mr. 
Speght's  MS.  As  to  the  two  circumstances  of  his 
having  been  a  Master  of  arts  of  Oxford  and  jester 
to  a  King,  I  can  find  no  older  authority  for  either 
than  Dr.  Horde's  book.  That  he  was  contempo 
rary  with  Chaucer,  but  so  as  to  survive  him  for  se 
veral  years,  perhaps  till  the  reign  of  Henry  V.  is 
sufficiently  clear  from  this  poem. 

Shakespeare  seems  to  have  followed  the  jest- 
book,  in  considering  Scogan  as  a  mere  buffoon, 
when  he  mentions,  as  one  of  FalstafFs  boyish  ex 
ploits,  that  he  "  broke  Scogan's  head  at  the  Court- 
gate;"  [2d  Part  of  Henry  IV.  A.  3.]  but  Jonson 


AN  ACCOUNT,  &C.  lv 


has  given  a  more  dignified,  and,  probably,  a  juster 
account  of  his  situation  and  character.  Masque  of 
the  Fortunate  Isles.  Vol.  VI.  p.  192. 

Mere-fool.  Skogan?  what  was  he? 

JohphieL  O,  a  fine  gentleman  and  master  of  arts 
Of  Henry  the  fourth's  time,  that  made  disguises 
For  the  king's  sons,  and  writ  in  ballad-royal 
Daintily  well. 

Mere-fool.  But  wrote  he  like  a  gentleman  ? 

JohphieL  In  rhime,  fine  tinkling  rhime  and  flowand  verse, 
With  now  and  then  some  sense  ;  and  he  was  paid  for't, 
Regarded  and  rewarded ;  which  few  poets  • 
Are  now  a-days. 

This  description  of  Skogan  corresponds  very  well 
with  the  ideas  which  would  naturally  be  suggested 
by  the  perusal  of  the  poem  before  us,  and  of  that 
addressed  to  him  by  Chaucer.  See  above,  p.  xv. 
And  indeed  I  question  whether  Jonson  had  any 
other  good  foundation  for  what  he  has  said  of  him. 

8.  A  balade  of  goode  counseil,    translated  out  of 
Latin  verses  into  English,  by  DAN  JOHN  LYDGATE. 

9.  A  balade  made  in  the  preise,  or  rather  dispreise, 
of  women  for  their  doubleness ;  by  LYDGATE,  accord 
ing  to  MS.  Ashmol.  6943. 

10.  A  balade  warning  men  to  beware  of  deceitful 
women ;    by   LYDGATE,    according    to   MS.  Harl. 
2251. 


Ivi  AN  ACCOUNT,  &c- 


To  these,  which  are  known  to  be  the  works  of 
other  authors,  we  should  perhaps  add  an  llth, 
viz.  Balade  in  commendation  of  our  Ladie;  as  a 
poem  with  the  same  beginning  is  ascribed  to 
LYDGATE,  under  th£  title  of  "  Invocation  to  our 
Lady"  Tanner,  in  v.  LYDGATE. 

The  anonymous  compositions,  which  have  been 
from  time  to  time  added  to  Chaucer's  in  the  se 
veral  Editt.  seem  to  have  been  received,  for  the 
most  part,  without  any  external  evidence  what 
ever,  and  in  direct  contradiction  to  the  strongest 
internal  evidence.  Of  this  sort  are  "  The  Plowman's 
tale"  first  printed  in  1542;  [See  the  Discourse, 
&c.  §  XL.  n.  32.]  "  The  Story  of  Gamelyn"  and 
"  The  Continuation  of  the  Canterbury  Tales,"  first 
printed  in  Mr.  Urry's  Edition;  "  Jack  Upland" 
first  produced  by  Mr.  Speght  in  1602  I  have 
declared  my  suspicion  [in  the  Gloss,  v.  ORIGENES.] 
that  the  "  Lamentation  of  Marie  Magdalene"  was 
not  written  by  Chaucer;  and  I  am  still  clearer 
that  the  "  Assemblee  of  ladies,"  "  A  praise  of  wo 
men"  and  the  "  Remedie  of  love,"  ought  not  to  be 
imputed  to  him.  It  would  be  a  waste  of  time  to 
sift  accurately  the  heap  of  rubbish,  which  was 
added,  by  John  Stowe,  to  the  Edit,  of  1561. 
Though  we  might  perhaps  be  able  to  pick  out  two 


AN  ACCOUNT,  &c.  Ivii 


or  three  genuine  fragments  of  Chaucer,  we  should 
probably  find  them  so  soiled  and  mangled*,  that 
he  would  not  thank  us  for  asserting  his  claim  to 
them. 

*  As  a  specimen  of  the  care  and  discernment,  with  which  Mr. 
Stowe's  collections  were  made,  I  would  refer  the  curious  reader  to 
what  is  called  a  Balade,  fol.  324  b.  Ed.  Sp. 
Beginn.  0  merciful  mid  o  merciable. 

The  four  first  stanzas  are  found  in  different  parts  of  an  imperfect 
poem  upon  the  Fall  of  man.  MS.  Harl.  2251.  n.  138.  The  llth 
Stanza  makes  part  of  an  Envoy,  which  in  the  same  MS.  n.  37.  is 
annexed  to  the  poem  entitled  "  The  craft  of  Lovers''  [among  the 
Additions  to  Chaucer's  works  by  J.  Stowe]  ;  which  poem  (by  the 
way),  though  printed  with  a  date  of  1347,  and  ascribed  to 
Chaucer,  has  in  the  MS.  a  much  more  probable  date  of  1459, 
near  sixty  years  after  Chaucer's  death. 

There  is  one  little  piece,  perhaps  by  Chaucer  [fol.  224.  Ed. 
Sp.]. 

Beginn.  Alone  walking,  In  thought  plaining,  &c. 
which  comes  nearer  to  the  description  of  a  Virelay,  than  any  thing 
else  of  his  that  has  been  preserved.     See  the  book  quoted  in  the 
Gloss,  v.  Virelaye. 


AN  ESSAY  ON  THE  LANGUAGE  AND  VERSIFICA 
TION  OF  CHAUCER. 


CONTENTS. 

Introduction.  The  different  judgements  of  the  language  and 
Versification  of  Chaucer  stated.  Plan  of  this  Essay,  in  three  parts. 
1.  To  vindicate  Chaucer  from  the  charge  of  having  corrupted  the 
English  Language  by  too  great  a  mixture  of  French  with  it.  2.  To 
make  some  observations  upon  the  real  state  of  our  language  in  his 
time.  3.  To  apply  those  observations  and  others  towards  illus 
trating  the  real  nature  of  his  Versification. 

PART  THE  FIRST.  The  French  Language  introduced  into 
England  before  the  Conquest ;  §  I.  confirmed  and  propagated  by 
the  new  establishments  at  the  Conquest ;  §  II.  was  the  ordinary 
Language  of  the  Court  ;  $  III.  was  carried  into  the  provinces  by 
the  great  Barons  and  military  Commanders ;  §  IV.  and  especially 
by  the  Clergy  ;  $  V.  who,  both  Secular  and  Regular,  were  chiefly 
foreigners.  §  VL  The  French  Language  continued  to  be  much 
used  as  late  as  the  reign  of  Edward  IIL  $  VII.  Conclusion,  that 
the  mixture  of  French  in  Chaucer's  writings  was  not  owing  to  any 
affectation  of  his,  but  to  the  causes  abovementioned,  which  in  his 
time  had  generally  introduced  the  Norman-Saxon  instead  of  the 
Saxon  Dialect ;  the  same  mixture  being  observable  in  other  con 
temporary  authors.  $  VIII. 

PART  THK  SECOND.  The  proposed  observations  upon  the 
English  Language  confined  to  the  actual  state  of  it  in  the  time  of 
Chaucer,  §  J.  and  divided,  so  as  to  consider  separately -the  Saxon 
and  Norman  parts  of  it.  §  II.  The  Saxon  part  considered  in  gram 
matical  order.  1.  The  Prepositive  Article.  2.  Nouns  substantive 


ESSAY  ON  THE  LANGUAGE.  &C. 


and  adjective.  3.  Pronouns.  4.  Verbs  and  Participles.  5.  The 
indeclinable  parts  of  speech.  §  III.  The  Norman  part  considered 
generally,  §  IV.  and  more,  particularly,  with  respect  to  Nouns,  sub 
stantive  and  adjective,  Verbs,  and  Participles.  §  V.  Additional 
causes  of  the  introduction  of  a  great  number  of  French  terms  into 
the  English  language.  §  VI. 

PART  THE  THIRD.  Preliminary  observations  upon  English 
Poetry.  The  form  of  English  Poetry  probably  borrowed  from  the 
Normans,  there  being  no  traces  of  Rime,  or  Metre,  among  the 
Saxons  before  the  Conquest.  The  Metres  and  Rime  of  modem 
Poetry  derived  from  the  Latin.  $  I.  Progress  of  English  Poetry 
to  the  reign  of  Henry  II.  Early  attempts  at  riming.  §  II.  Few 
English  Poets  known  between  the  reign  of  Henry  II  and  that  of 
Henry  III.  §  111.  The  Ormulum  written  in  verses  of  fifteen  sylla 
bles  without  rime.  $  IV.  The  number  of  Rimers  increased  be 
tween  the  last  mentioned  period  and  the  time  when  Chaucer  began 
to  write  §  V.  State  of  our  Poetry  at  that  time.  $  VI.  Account 
of  the  Metres  then  in  use ;  §  VII.  of  those  used  by  Chaucer. 
§  VIII.  The  Heroic  Metre  probably  introduced  by  him,  either 
from  Fnmce  or  Italy.  §  IX.  A  knowledge  of  the  antient  pronun 
ciation  of  our  language  necessary  in  order  to  form  a  judgement  of 
the  Versification  of  Chaucer.  §  X.  How  a  critic  in  the  age  of  Au 
gustus  would  have  proceeded  in  judging  of  the  Metre  of  Ennius.  § 
XI.  The  same  method  recommended  with  respect  to  Chaucer. 
General  reasons  for  believing  that  he  understood  and  practised  the 
ordinary  rules  of  Metre.  $  XII.  The  offences  against  Metre,  in 
an  English  verse,  enumerated  as  arising  from  1.  a  superfluity,  2.  a 
deficiency,  of  syllables ;  and  3.  a  misplacing  of  Accents.  §  XIII. 
No  superfluity  of  syllables  in  Chaucer's  verses.  $  XIV.  The  seem 
ing  deficiencies  in  his  Metre  may  generally  be  supplied  by  restor 
ing  the  antient  pronunciation  of  certain  syllables,  §  XV.  and  es 
pecially  of  the  e  feminine.  Reasons  for  believing  that  the  final  e 


ESSAY  ON  THE  LANGUAGE,  &c. 


in  our  antient  language  was  pronounced  like  the  c  feminine  of  the 
French.  §  XVI.  The  third  kind  of  irregularity,  arising  from  a 
misplacing  cf  accents,  may  be  rectified,  in  many  instances,  by  ac 
centing  certain  words  in  a  manner  different  from  that  now  in  use, 
and  more  agreeable  to  the  French  practice.  Proofs  that  such  a 
mode  of  accentuation  was  used  by  Chaucer,  in  words  of  Saxon,  as 
well  as  of  French  original.  The  early  poets  in  France  and  Italy 
not  exact  in  the  disposition  of  their  accents.  §  XVII.  Illustration 
of  the  foregoing  Theory  by  a  Grammatical  and  Metrical  analysis  of 
the  first  eighteen  lines  of  the  Canterbury  Tales.  §  XVIII. 


AN  ESSAY  ON  THE  LANGUAGE  AND 
VERSIFICATION  OF  CHAUCER. 


THE  Language  of  Chaucer  has  undergone  two 
very  different  judgements.  According  to  one(l), 
he  is  the  "  well  of  English  undefiled ;"  according 
to  the  other  (2),  he  has  corrupted  and  deformed  the 
English  idiom  by  an  immoderate  mixture  of  French 
words.  Nor  do  the  opinions  with  respect  to  his 
Versification  seem  to  have  been  less  discordant. 
His  contemporaries  (3),  and  they  who  lived  nearest 


(1)  Spenser,  F.  Q.  b.  iv.  c.  ii.  st.  32. 

(2)  Verstegan,  c.  7.     "  Some  few  ages  after  [the  Conquest] 
came  the  Poet  Geffery  Chaucer,  who  writing  his  poesies  in  English 
is  of  some  called  the  first  illuminator  of  the  English  tongue.     Of 
their  opinion  I  am  not,  though  I  reverence  Chaucer  as  an  excellent 
Poet  for  his  time.     He  was  indeed  a  great  mingler  of  English  with 
FRENCH,  unto  which  language  (by  like  for  that  he  was  descended 
of  French,  or  rather  Wallon  race)  he  carried  a  great  affection." 

Skinner,  Etymol.  L.  A*  Prsef.  "  Ex  hoc  malesano  novitatis 
pruritu,  Belgae  Gallicas  voces  passim  civitate  sua  donando  patrii 
sermonis  puritatem  nuper  non  leviter  inquinarunt,  et  CHAUCERUS 
poeta,  pessimo  exemplo,  integris  vocum  plaustris  ex  eadem  GAI.LIA 
in  nostram  linguam  invectis,  earn,  nimis  antea  a  Normannorum  vic 
toria  adulteratam,  omni  fere  nativa  gratia  &  nitore  spoliavit." 

(3)  Lydgate,  Occleve,  et  al.     See  the  Testimonies  prefixed  to 
Urry's  Edit. 

VOL.  I.  B 


ESSAY  ON  THE  LANGUAGE  AND 


to  his  time,  universally  extoll  him  as  the  "  chief 
Poete  of  Britaine,"  "  the  flour  of  Poetes,"  &c.  titles, 
which  must  be  supposed  to  implie  their  admiration 
of  his  metrical  skill^as  well  as  of  his  other  poetical 
talents ;  but  the  later  critics  (4),  though  they  leave 
him  in  possession  of  the  same  sounding  titles,  yet  they 
are  almost  unanimously  agreed,  that  he  was  either 
totally  ignorant  or  negligent  of  metrical  rules,  and 
that  his  verses  (if  they  may  be  so  called)  are  fre- 


(4)  I  shall  only  quote  Dryden,  Pref.  to  his  Fables.  "  The  verse 
of  Chaucer,  I  confess,  is  not  harmonious  to  us ; — They  who  lived 
with  him,  and  some  time  after  him,  thought  it  musical ;  and  it  con 
tinues  so  even  in  our  judgment,  if  compared  with  the  numbers  of 
Lidgate  and  Gower,  his  contemporaries : — "Tis  true,  I  cannot  go 
so  far  as  he,  who  published  the  last  edition  of  him  [Mr.  Speght] ; 
for  he  would  make  us  believe  the  fault  is  in  our  ears,  and  that 
there  were  really  ten  syllables  in  a  verse  where  we  find  but  nine. 
But  this  opinion  is  not  worth  confuting ;  'tis  so  gross  and  obvious 
an  error,  that  common  sense  (which  is  a  rule  in  every  thing  but 
matters  of  Faith  and  Revelation)  must  convince  the  Reader,  tfiat 
equality  of  numbers  in  every  verse  which  we  call  Heroick,  was 
either  not  known,  or  not  always  practised,  in  Chaucer's  age.  It 
were  an  easy  matter  to  produce  some  thousands  of  his  verses, 
which  are  lame  for  want  of  half  a  foot,  and  sometimes  a  whole  one, 
and  which  no  pronunciation  can  make  otherwise." 

This  peremptory  decision  has  never  since  (that  I  know)  been 
controverted,  except  by  Mr.  Urry,  whose  design  of  restoring  the 
metre  of  Chaucer  by  a  Collation  of  Mss.  was  as  laudable,  as  his 
execution  of  it  has  certainly  been  unsuccessful. 


VERSIFICATION  OF  CHAUCER.  3 


quently  deficient,  by  a  syllable  or  two,  of  their  just 
measure. 

It  is  the  purpose  of  the  following  Essay  to  throw 
some  light  upon  both  these  questions.  Admitting 
the  fact,  that  the  English  of  Chaucer  has  a  great 
mixture  of  French  in  it,  I  hope  to  shew,  that  this 
mixture  (if  a  crime)  cannot  fairly  be  laid  to  his 
charge.  I  shall  then  proceed  to  state  some  obser 
vations  upon  the  most  material  peculiarities  of  the 
Norman-Saxon,  or  English  language,  as  it  appears 
to  have  been  in  general  use  in  the  age  of  Chaucer ; 
and  lastly,  applying  these  observations  to  the  poe 
tical  parts  of  the  Canterbury  Tales,  as  they  are 
faithfully  printed  in  this  edition  from  the  best  Mss. 
which  I  coud  procure,  I  shall  leave  it  to  the  intel 
ligent  Reader  to  determine,  whether  Chaucer  was 
really  ignorant  of  the  laws,  or  even  of  the  graces,  of 
Versification,  and  whether  he  was  more  negligent 
of  either  than  the  very  early  Poets  in  almost  all  lan 
guages  are  found  to  have  been. 

PART  THE  FIRST. 

§  I.  In  order  to  judge,  in  the  first  place,  how  far 
Chaucer  ought  to  be  charged  as  the  importer  of  the 
-many  French  words  and  phrases,  which  are  so  vi 
sible  in  all  his  writings,  it  will  be  necessary  to  take 


ESSAY  ON  THE  LANGUAGE  AND 


a  short  view  of  the  early  introduction  and  long  pre- 
valency  of  the  French  language  in  this  country  be 
fore  his  time.  It  might  be  sufficient,  perhaps,  for 
our  purpose  to  begin  this  view  at  the  Conquest: 
but  I  cannot  help  observing,  from  a  contemporary 
Historian,  that,  several  years  before  that  great 
event,  the  language  of  France  had  been  introduced 
into  the  court  of  England,  and  from  thence  among 
the  people.  The  account  which  Ingulphus  gives  of 
this  matter  is  (5),  that  Edward,  commonly  called 
the  Confessor,  having  been  educated  at  the  court 
of  his  uncle  Duke  Richard  II.  and  having  resided 
in  Normandy  many  years,  became  almost  a  French 
man.  Upon  his  return  from  thence  and  accession 
to  the  throne  of  England  in  1043,  he  brought  over 
with  him  a  number  of  Normans,  whom  he  promoted 
to  the  highest  dignities ;  and  (according  to  Ingul- 


(5)  Ingulph.  Hist.  Croyl.  p.  62.  ed.  Gale.  "  Rex  autem  Ed- 
wardus  nutus  in  Anglia.  sed  nutritus  in  Normannia  et  diutissime 
immoratus,  pene  ui  Gallicum  transierat,  adducens  ac  attrahens  de 
Normannia  plurimos,  quos  vartis  dignitatibus  promotes  in  immensum 
exaltabat. — Ccepit  ergo  tota  terra  sub  Rtge  et  sub  aliis  Normannis 
introductis  Anglicos  ritus  dimittere,  et  Francorum  mores  in  multis 
imitari,  Gallicum  [scilicet]  idioma  omnes  Magnates  in  suis  curiis 
tanquam  magnum  gentilitium  loqui,  chartas  et  chirographa  sua 
more  Francorum  conficere,  et  propriam  consuetudinem  in  his  et  in 
aliis  multis  erubescere" 


VERSIFICATION  OF  CHAUCER. 


phus)  under  the  influence  of  the  King  and  his  Nor 
man  favourites,  the  whole  nation  began  to  lay  aside 
their  English  fashions  and  imitate  the  manners  of 
the  French  in  many  things.  In  particular,  he  says 
expressly,  that  all  the  Nobility  in  their  courts  began 
to  speak  French,  as  a  great  piece  of  gentility. 

§  II.  This  fashion  however  of  speaking  French, 
having  been  adopted  only  in  compliance  with  the 
caprice  of  the  reigning  prince,  would  not  probably 
have  spread  very  wide  or  lasted  very  long ;  but  at 
the  revolution,  which  followed  soon  after  in  1066, 
the  language  of  the  Norman  conquerour  was  inter 
woven  with  the  new  political  system  (6),  and  the 

(6)  Robert  Holkot  (as  quoted  by  Selden,  ad  Eadmer.  p.  189.) 
says,  that  the  Conquerour — "  deliberavit  quomodo  linguam  Saxo- 
"  nicam  pesset  dcstruere,  et  Angliam  et  Normanniam  in  idiomate 
concordare" —  But  Holkot  wrote  only  in  the  fourteenth  century, 
and  I  do  not  find  that  the  earlier  historians  impute  to  the  King  so 
silly  a  project.  On  the  contrary  Ordericus  Vitalis  [1.  iv.  p.  520.] 
assures  us,  that  William — "  Anglicam  locutionem  plerumque  sategit 
"  ediscere :  ut  sine  interprete  querelam  subjects  legis  posset  intelli- 
"  gere,  et  scita  rectitudinis  unicuiqne  (prout  ratio  dictaret)  affec- 
"  tuose  depromere.  Ast  a  perceptione  hujusmodi  durior  eetas  ilium- 
"  compescebat,  et  tumultus  multimodarum  occupationum  ad  alia  ne- 
"  cessario  adtrahebat." — And  several  of  his  publick  instruments, 
which  are  still  extant  in  Saxon,  [HickesG.  A.  S.  p.  164. — Prsef.  p. 
xv,  xvi.]  prove,  that  he  had  no  objection  to  using  that  language  in 
business;  so  that  it  seems  more  natural  to  suppose,  that  the  intro- 


ESSAY  ON  THE  LANGUAGE  AND 


several  establishments,  which  were  made  for  the 
support  and  security  of  the  one,  all  contributed,  in 
a  greater  or  less  degree,  to  the  diffusion  and  per 
manency  of  the  other. 

§  III.  To  begin  with  the  court.  If  we  consider 
that  the  King  himself,  the  chief  officers  of  state, 
and  by  far  the  greatest  part  of  the  nobility,  were  all 
Normans,  and  coud  probably  speak  no  language 
but  their  own,  we  can  have  no  doubt  that  French  (7) 
was  the  ordinary  language  of  the  court.  The  few 


duction  of  the  French  language  was  a  consequence  only,  and  not 
an  object,  of  his  policy. 

(7)  I  apprehend  that  long  before  this  time  the  Danish  tongue 
had  ceased  to  be  spoken  in  Normandy.  It  was  never  general 
there,  as  appears  from  a  passage  of  Dudon,  1.  iii.  p.  112.  Duke 
William  I.  gives  this  reason  for  sending  his  son  Richard  to  be 
educated  at  Baieux.  "  Quantum  quidcm  Rotomagensis  civitas  Bc- 
mana  poiius  quam  Dacisc£  utitur  etoquentid,  et  Bajocacensis  fruitur 
frequentius  Dacisc&  lingud  quam  Romana,  volo  igitur  ut  ad  Bajo- 
cacensia  deferatur  quantocius  masnia  &c."  If  we  recollect,  that  the 
Danish  settlers  under  Rollo  were  few  in  comparison  with  the  ori 
ginal  inhabitants,  and  had  probably  scare  any  use  of  letters  among 
them,  we  shall  not  be  surprized  that  they  did  not  preserve  their 
language  for  above  two  or  three  generations. 

From  two  other  passages  of  the  same  Dudon  we  learn,  that  the 
Danish  language,  while  it  lasted  in  Normandy,  was  very  similar  to 
the  Saxon  [p.  99.],  and  yet  different  from  it  [p.  100.];  qualem 
decet  esse  sororem. 


VERSIFICATION  OF  CHAUCER. 


Saxons,  who  for  some  time  (8)  were  admitted  there, 
must  have  had  the  strongest  inducements  to  acquire 
the  same  language  as  soon  as  possible,  not  merely 
for  the  sake  of  apprehending  and  answering  in 
significant  questions  in  the  circle,  but  because  in 
that  age  affairs  of  the  greatest  importance  were 
publickly  transacted  in  the  King's  court,  and  there 
they  might  be  called  upon  to  answer  for  their  pos 
sessions  and  even  for  their  lives.  In  an  ecclesias 
tical  synod,  held  in  the  presence  of  the  King  in 
1072,  the  venerable  Bishop  of  Worcester,  Wulstan, 

(whose  holy  simplicity,  as  the  (9)  Historian  calls  it, 

» 

(8)  After  the  death  of  Edwin,  and  the  imprisonment  of  Morcar 
in  1070,  we  do  not  read  of  any  Saxon  Earl,  except  Waltheof,  and 
lie  was  executed  for  misprision  of  treason  about  three  years  after. 
Orderic.  Vit.  1.  iv.  p.  536.     It  is  singular,  that  Waltheof,  accord 
ing  to  the  Saxon  law,  suffered  death  for  the  concealment  of  that 
treason,  for  which  Roger  de  Breteuil,  Earl  of  Hereford,  being  tried 
secundum  leges  Normannorum,  coud  only  be  punished  by  a  for 
feiture  of  his  inheritance  and  perpetual  imprisonment.     Id.  p.  535. 
From  this  time  (says  Tngulphns,  p.  70.)     Comitatus  ct  Baronias, 
Episcopatus  et  Prcslatias  totius  terre  suis  Normannis  Eex  distribute, 
et  vix  aliquem  Anglicum  ad  honoris  statum  vel  alicujus  dominii  prin- 
cipatum  cacendere  ptrmisit. 

(9)  Will.  Malmesb.  1.  iii.  p.  118.     Hie  sancta  simplicitas  bcati 
Vulstani  &c.     The  story  which  follows  perfectly  justifies  this  cha 
racter.     Matt.  Paris  [ad  an.  1095.]  says,  that  in  another  Synod 
there  was  a  formal  design  of  deposing  Wulstan,  and  that  he  was 
saved  only  by  a  miracle.     He  was  accused  "  simplicitcltis  et  illite- 


ESSAY  ON  THE  LANGUAGE  AND 


seems  to  have  preserved  him  from  the  degradation 
which  almost  all  the  other  English  Prelates  under 
went)  was  obliged  to  defend  the  rights  of  his  see  by 
an  interpreter,  a  monk  (according  to  the  same(lQ) 
Historian)  of  very  little  eloquence,  but  who  had  a  smat 
tering  of  the  Norman  language. 

§  IV.  If  we  consider  further,  that  the  great 
Barons,  to  whom  William  (11)  distributed  a  large 
share  of  his  conquest,  when  released  from  their  at 
tendance  in  the  King's  court,  retired  to  courts  of 
their  own,  where  they  in  their  turn  were  surrounded 
by  a  numerous  train  of  vassals,  chiefly  their  own 
countrymen,  we  may  be  sure  that  the  French  lan 
guage  travelled  with  them  into  the  most  distant 

raturee;" — "  et  quasi  homo  idiota,  qui  linguam  Gallicanam  non  no- 
verat,  nee  regiis  consiliis  interesse  poterat,  ipso  Rege  consentiente 
et  hoc  dictanie,  decernitur  deponendus. 

(10)  Ibid.     Ita  datd  benedictioiie   Monacho,  minima  facundix 
viro,  sed  Normannicte  lingua  sciolo,  rcm  perorans  obtinuit. 

(11)  There  is  a  curious  detail  of  part  of  this  distribution  in  Or- 
dericus  Vitalis,  1.  iv.  p.  521,  2.  which  concludes  thus  : — "  alusqne 
adcenis,  qui  sibi  cohffserant,  magnos  et  multos  honores  contulit ; 
ct   in   tantum   quosdam  provexit,  ut  multos  in  Anglid  ditiores  et 
potentiores  haberent  clienles,  quam  eorum  in  Neustria  fuerant  pa- 
rentes."     There  is  an  account  in  the  Monast.  Angl.  t.  i.  p.  400.  of 
the  Conquerour's  giving  the  whole  county  of  Cumberland  to  Ranulph 
de  Meschines,  and  of  the  division  which  Ranulph  made  of  it 
among  his  relations  and  follower^  who  appear  to  have  been  all 
foreigners. 


VERSIFICATION  OF  CHAUCER. 


provinces,  and  was  used  by  them,  not  only  in  their 
common  conversation,  but  in  their  civil  contracts, 
their  judicial  proceedings,  and  even  in  the  promul 
gation  of  their  (12)  laws.  The  many  Castles,  which 
William  built  (13)  in  different  parts  of  the  island, 

(12)  The  antient  Earls  had  a  power  of  legislation  within  their 
Counties.     William  of  Malmesbury,  speaking  of  William  Fitz- 
Osberne,  Earl  of  Hereford,  says ;  "  Manet  in  hunc  diem  in  Comi- 
tatu  ejus  amid  Herefordum  legum  quas  statuit  inconcussa  firmitas  ; 
wt  nullus  miles  pro  qualicunque  commisso  plus  septem  solidis  solvat ; 
cum  in  aliis  provinciis  ob  parvam  occasiunculam  in  transgressione 
prcecepti  herilis,  viginti  vel  viginti  quinque  pendantur."    L.  iii.  p. 
105. 

(13)  Ordericus  Vitalis  [L.  iv.  p.  511.}  observes,  that,  before 
the  Conquest,  "  Munitiones,  quas  Castella  Galli  nuncupant,  An- 
glicis  provinciis  paucissim&fuerant :  et  ob  hoc  Angli,  licet  bellicosi 
fuerint  et  audaces,  ad  resistendum  tamen  inimicis  extiterant  debi- 

liores."  William,  at  his  landing,  placed  garrisons  at  Pevensey  and 
Hastings,  After  the  battle,  he  took  possession  of  Dover,  and  left 
a  garrison  there.  He  caused  "Jirmamenta  quadam"  to  be  made 
at  London,  and  built  a  strong  citadel  at  Winchester.  Upon  his  re 
turn  from  Normandy,  after  the  first  insurrection  of  the  English,  he 
built  a  castle  within  the  city  of  Exeter  ;  another  at  Warwick  ;  and 
another  at  Nottingham.  In  the  city  of  York,  "  munitionem  fa- 
mavit,  quam  delectis  militibus  custodiendam  tradidit,"  At  Lincoln, 
Huntingdon,  and  Cambridge,  "  castra  locavit,  et  tutelam  eorum 
fortissimis  viris  commendavit."  He  had  also  garrisons  at  Montacute 
in  Somersetshire,  and  at  Shrewsbury.  He  built  fortifications  at 
Chester  and  Stafford.  We  read  also  of  castles  at  Arundel  and 
Stutesbury  at  this  time;  and  Nwwich  was  so  strong  as  to  stand  a 
siege  of  three  months.  Ord.  Vit.  p,  500 — 535. 


10  ESSAY  ON   THE  LANGUAGE  AND 


must  also  have  contributed  very  much  to  the  pro 
pagation  of  the  French  language  among  the  natives, 
as  it  is  probable  that  the  Foreigners,  of  whom  the 
garrisons  were  (14)  entirely  composed,  would  insist 
upon  carrying  on  all  their  transactions  with  the 
neighbouring  country  in  their  own  language.  - 

§  V.  But  the  great  alteration,  which,  from  political 
motives,  was  made  in  the  state  of  the  clergy  at  that 
time,  must  have  operated  perhaps  more  efficaciously 
than  any  other  cause  to  give  the  French  language  a 
deep  root  in  England.  The  Conquerour  seems  to  have 
been  fully  apprized  of  the  strength  which  the  new 
government  might  derive  from  a  Clergy  more  closely 
attached  to  himself  by  a  community  of  interests 
than  the  native  English  were  likely  to  be.  Ac 
cordingly,  from  the  very  beginning  of  his  reign,  all 
ecclesiastical  perferments,  as  fast  as  they  became 
vacant,  were  given  to  his  Norman  chaplains  ;  and, 
not  content  to  avail  himself  of  the  ordinary  course 
of  succession,  he  contrived  (15),  upon  various  charges 

(14)  Orderic.  Vital.  1.  iv.  p.  506.     Custodes  in  castellis  strenuos 
•eiros  ex  Gallis  collocavit,  ct  opulenta  beneficia,  pro  quibus  labores 
et  pericula  libenter  tolerarent,  distribuit. 

(15)  See  the  transactions  of  the  Council  held  at   Winchester  in 
the  year  1070,  ap.  Flor.  Vigorn.  p.  636.     Having  spoken  of  ths 
degradation  of  Stigand,  Archjjishop  of  Canterbury,  and  Agelmar, 
Bishop  of  the  East  Saxons,  he  proceeds  thus :  Abbates  etiam  aliqui 


VERSIFICATION  OF  CHAUCER.  11 


of  real  or  pretended  irregularities,  to  remove  several 
of  the  English  Bishops  and  Abbots,  whose  places 
were  in  like  manner  immediately  supplied  by  Fo 
reigners.  In  short,  in  the  space  of  a  very  few 
years,  all  the  Sees  of  England  were  filled  with  Nor 
mans,  or  strangers  naturalized  (if  I  may  so  say)  in 
Normandy,  and  the  greatest  part  of  the  Abbeys  in 

ibi  degradati  sunt,  vperam  dante  rege  ut  quamplures  ex  Anglis  suo 
honore  privarentur,  in  quorum  locum  suse  gentis  personas  subro- 
gavit,  ob  confirmationem  sui  (quod  noviter  acquisierat)  regni.  Hie 
et  nonnullos,  tarn  episcopos  quam  Abbates,  quos  nulla  evident!  causa 
nee  concilia  nee  leges  seculi  damnabant,  suis  honoribus  privavit, 
et  usque  ad  finem  vitte.  custodies  mancipatos  detinuit,  suspicions,  ut 
diximus,  tantum  inductus  novi  regni. 

In  confinnation  of  what  is  said  here  and  in  the  text,  if  we  ex 
amine  the  subscriptions  to  an  Ecclesiastical  Constitution  in  1072, 
ap.  Will.  Malm.  1.  iii.  p.  117.  we  find  that  the  two  Archbishops, 
seven  Bishops  out  of  eleven,  and  six  Abbots  out  of  twelve,  were 
Foreigners ;  and  in  about  five  years  more  the  four  other  Bishopricks, 
and  five  at  least  of  the  other  six  Abbeys,  were  in  the  hands  of 
Foreigners. 

Another  Ecclesiastical  Constitution  made  at  this  time  has  very 
much  the  appearance  of  a  political  regulation.  It  orders  "  that 
the  Bishops  seats  shall  be  removed  from  towns  to  cities ;"  and  in 
consequence  of  it  the  See  of  Lichefield  was  removed  to  Chester  ; 
that  of  Selesey  to  Chichester ;  that  of  Elmhara  to  Thetford,  and 
afterwards  to  Norwich ;  that  of  Shireburne  to  Salisbury,  and  that 
of  Dorchester  to  Lincoln.  Will.  Malm.  1.  iii.  p.  118.  When  the 
King  had  got  a  set  of  Bishops  to  his  mind,  he  would  wish  to  have 
them  placed,  where  their  influence  coud  be  of  most  service  to  him. 


12  ESSAY  ON  THE  LANGUAGE  AND 


the  kingdom  were  under  governours  of  the  same 
description. 

§  VI.  It  must  be  allowed,  that  the  confessed  su 
periority  (16)  in  literature  of  the  Norman  clergy 
over  the  English  at  that  time  furnished  the  King 
with  a  specious  pretext  for  these  promotions ;  and 
it  is  probable,  that  the  Prelates,  who  were  thus 
promoted,  made  use  of  the  same  pretext  to  justify 
themselves  in  disposing  of  all  their  best  benefices 
among  their  friends  and  countrymen.  That  this 
was  their  constant  practice  is  certain.  Nor  were 
the  new  Abbots  less  industrious  to  stock  their  con 
vents  (17)  with  Foreigners,  whom  they  invited  over 

(16)  Ordericus  Vitalis,  1.  iv.  p.  518.  says,  that  the  Normans  at 
the  Conquest  found  the  English  "agrestes  etpene  illiterates;"  and  he 
imputes,  with  some  probability,  the  decay  of  learning  among  them, 
from  the  time  of  Beda  and  others,  to  the  continual  ravages  and  op 
pressions  of  the  Danes.  See  also  William  of  Malmesbury,  I.  iii.  p. 
101,  2.     It  may  be  observed  too,  from  Continuat.  Hist.  Croyland, 
by  Peter  of  Blois,  p.  114.  that  the  first  regular  lectures  (of  which 
we  have   any   account)  at  Cambridge  were  read  there  by  four 
foreign  Monks,  who  had  come  over  into  England  with  Jeffrey,  Ab 
bot  of  Croyland,  formerly  Prior  of  St.  Evroul.  They  are  said  to 
have  read  "  diversis  in  locis  a  se  divisi  etformam  Aurelianensis 
studii  secuti,"  three  of  them  in  Grammar,  Logick,  and  Rhetorick, 
and  the  fourth  in  Theology. 

(17)  See  the  preceding  note.    There  was  no  great  harmony  at 
first  between  the  English  monks  and  their  new  governours.    See 


VERSIFICATION  OF  CHAUCER.  13 


from  the  continent,  partly  perhaps  for  the  pleasure 
of  their  society,  and  partly  (as  we  may  suppose)  in 
expectation  of  their  support  against  the  cabals  of 
the  English  monks.  And  when  the  great  Barons, 
following  the  royal  example,  applied  themselves  to 
make  their  peace  with  the  Church  by  giving  her  a 
share  of  their  plunder,  it  was  their  usual  custom  to 
begin  their  religious  establishments  with  a  colony 
(18)  from  some  Norman  Monastery. 


the  proceedings  at  Glastonbury  under  Thurstin  [Will.  Malm.  !. 
iii.  p.  110.],  and  at  Canterbury  against  Wido.  [Chron.  Saxon,  p. 
179. 180.  ed.  Gibson.] 

(18)  The  Conquerour  had  put  Goisbert,  a  Monk  of  Marmontier, 
at  the  head  of  his  new  foundation  of  Battle  Abbey.  [Ord.  Vital.  1. 
iv.  p.  505.]  In  like  manner  Roger  de  Montgomery,  Earl  of 
Shrewsbury,  sent  for  Monks  from  Sees  to  begin  his  Abbey  at 
Shrewsbury.  [Id.  I.  v.  p.  581.]  Walter  Espec  also  brought  over 
Monks  of  Clervauk  to  fill  his  two  Abbeys,  of  Rivaulx  and  War- 
dun.  [Ailr.  Rievall.  ap.  X.  Script,  p.  338.] 

Beside  these  and  many  other  independent  foundations,  which 
were  in  this  manner  opened  for  the  reception  of  foreign  Monks  in 
preference  to  the  natives,  a  considerable  number  of  Religious 
Houses  were  built  and  endowed,  as  cells  to  different  monasteries 
abroad ;  and  as  such  were  constantly  filled  by  detachments  from 
the  superiour  society.  They  are  frequently  mentioned  in  our 
histories  under  the  general  name  of  the  Alien  Priories  ;  and  though 
several  of  them,  upon  various  pretexts,  had  withdrawn  themselves 
from  their  foreign  connexions  and  been  made  denizens,  no  less 
than  one  hundred  and  forty  remained  in  1414,  which  were  then 


14  ESSAY  ON  THE  LANGUAGE  AND 


§  VII.  In  this  state  of  things,  which  seems  to 
have  continued  (19)  with  little  variation  to  the 

all  suppressed  and  their  revenues  vested  in  the  crown.  See  the 
List.  Monast.  Angl.  v.  i.  p.  1035. 

(19)  I  suppose  that,  during  this  whole  period  of  above  250 
years,  the  English  language  was  continually  gaining  ground,  by 
slow  and  almost  imperceptible  degrees,  in  proportion  nearly  as  the 
English  natives  were  emerging  from  that  state  of  depression  in 
which  they  were  placed  by  the  Conquest.  We  have  no  reason  to 
believe  that  much  progress  was  made  in  either  of  these  matters  be 
fore  the  reign  of  King  John.  The  loss  of  Normandy  &c.  in  that 
reign,  and  the  consequent  regulations  of  Henry  III.  and  Louis  IX. 
by  which  the  subjects  of  either  crown  were  made  incapable  of 
holding  lands  in  the  dominions  of  the  other  [Matth.  Paris,  ad  an. 
1244.],  must  have  greatly  diminished  the  usual  conflux  of  Nor 
mans  to  the  English  court;  and  the  intestine  commotions  in  this 
country  under  John  and  Henry  III,  in  which  so  many  of  the  greater 
Barons  lost  their  lives  and  estates,  must  eventually  have  opened 
a  way  for  the  English  to  raise  themselves  to  honours  and  posses 
sions,  to  which  they  had  very  rarely  before  been  admitted  to  aspire. 

In  the  year  1258,  the  42  Henry  III,  we  have  a  particlar  in 
stance  (the  first,  I  believe,  of  the  kind)  of  attention  on  the  side  of 
government  to  the  Knglish  part  of  the  community.  The  Letters 
Patent,  which  the  King  was  advised  to  publish  in  support  of  the 
Oxford  Provisions,  were  sent  to  each  County  in  Latin,  French, 
and  English  [Annal.  Burton,  p.  416.  One  of  them  has  been 
printed  from  the  Patent-roll,  43  H.  III.  n.  40.  m.  15.  by  Somne.r 
in  his  Diet.  Sax.  v.  UNNAN,  and  by  Hearne,  Text.  Roff.  p.  391.] 
At  the  same  time  all  the  proceedings  in  the  business  of  the  Pro 
visions  appear  to  have  been  carried  on  in  French,  and  the  princi 
pal  persons  in  both  parties  are  evidently  of  foreign  extraction. 


VERSIFICATION  OF  CHAUCER.  15 


time  of  Edward  HI,  it  is  probable,  that  the  French 
and  English  languages  subsisted  together  through- 

If  a  conjecture  may  be  allowed  in  a  matter  so  little  capable  of 
proof,  I  should  think  it  probable,  that  the  necessity,  which  the  great 
Barons  were  under  at  this  time,  of  engaging  the  body  of  the  people 
to  support  them  in  their  opposition  to  a  new  set  of  foreigners, 
chiefly  Poitevins,  contributed  very  much  to  abolish  the  invidious 
distinctions  which  had  long  subsisted  between  the  French  and 
English  parts  of  the  nation.  In  the  early  times  after  the  Con 
quest,  if  we  may  believe  Henry  of  Huntingdon  [L,  vi.  p.  370.], 
"  to  be  called  an  Englishman  was  a  reproach :"  but  when  the 
Clares,  the  Eohuns,  the  Bigods  &c.  were  raising  armies  for  the 
expulsion  of  Foreigners  out  of  the  kingdom,  they  would  not  pro 
bably  be  unwilling  to  have  themselves  considered  as  natives  of 
England.  Accordingly  Matthe\^  Paris  [p.  833.]  calls  Hugh  Bigod 
(a  brother  of  the  Earl  Marshall)  virum  de  terra  Anglorum  natura- 
lem  et  ingenuum;  and  in  another  passage  [p.  851.]  he  appropriates 
the  title  of"  alienigente"  to  those  foreigners,  "quiReginee  attinentes 
per  earn  introdticti  fucrant  in  Angliam :"  and  so  perhaps  the  word 
ought  generally  to  be  understood  in  the  transactions  of  that  reign. 
None  but  persons  born  out  of  England  were  then  esteemed  as 
Foreigners. 

About  the  same  time  we  find  an  Archbishop  of  York  objecting 
to  Clerks  (recommended  to  benefices  by  the  Pope),  because 
they  were  "  ignorant  of  the  English  language"  [Mat.  Par.  p. 
831 .]  ;  which  seems  to  imply,  that  a  knowledge  of  that  language 
was  then  considered  among  the  proper  qualifications  of  an  Eccle- 
siastick  :  but  that  it  was  not  necessarily  required,  even  in  the 
Parochial  Clergy,  appears  from  the  great  number  of  foreign  Par 
sons,  Vicars  &c.  who  had  the  King's  Letters  of  protection  in  the 
25th  year  of  Edward  I.  See  the  Lists  in  Prynne,  t.  i.  p.  709 — 7SO. 


16  ESSAY  ON  THE  LANGUAGE  AND 


out  the  kingdom ;  the  higher  orders,  both  of  the 
Clergy   and   Laity  (20),    speaking  almost  univer- 

(20)  The  testimony  of  Robert  of  Gloucester  (who  lived  in  the 
times  of  H.  III.  and  E.  I.)  is  so  full  and  precise  to  this  point, 
that  I  trust  the  Reader  will  not  be  displeased  to  see  it  in  his  own 
words,  or  rather  in  the  words  of  that  very  incorrect  Ms.  which 
Hearne  has  religiously  followed  in  his  edition. 

Rob.  Glouc.  p.  364. 

Thus  come  lo  !  Engelond  into  Normannes  honde. 
And  the  Normans  ne  couthe  speke  the  »  bate  her  owe  speche, 
And  speke  Frenche  as  b  dude  atom,  and  here  chyldren  dude  al  so 

teche. 

So  that  hey  men  of  thys  lond,  that  of  her  blod  come, 
Holdeth  allethulke  speche,  thathii  of  hem  nome. 
c  For  bate  a  man  couthe  French,  <*  me  tolth  of  hym  wel  lute  ; 
e  Ac  lowe  men  holdeth  to  Englyss  and  to  her  kunde  speche  s  yute* 
Ich  wene  ther  ne  be  man  in  world  contreyes  none, 
That  ne  holdeth  to  her  kunde  speche,  bote  Engelond  one. 
Ac  wel  me  wot  vor  to  conne  bothe  wel  yt  ys, 
Vor  the  more  that  a  man  con,  the  more  worth  he  ys. 

I  shall  throw  together  here  a  few  miscellaneous  facts  in  confir 
mation  of  this  general  testimony  of  Robert  of  Gloucester. 

A  letter  of  Hugh,  Bishop  of  Coventry,  preserved  by  Hoveden 
[p.  704.],  assures  us,  that  William,  Bishop  of  Ely,  Chancellor 
and  Prime  Minister  to  Richard  I,  "  linguam  Anglicanam  prorsus 
ignorabat" 

In  the  reign  of  Henry  III,  Robert  of  Gloucester,  intending  as 
it  should  seem,  to  give  the  very  words  of  Peter,  Bishop  of  Here- 

»  But  their  own.  d  Men  told. — lite,  little. 

b  Did  at  home.  e  But. — kinde,  natural. 

c  For  but '  Yet. 


VERSIFICATION  OF  CHAUCER. 


sally  French,  the  lower  retaining  the  use  of  their 
native  tongue,  but  also  frequently  adding  to  it 

ford  (whom  he  has  just  called  "  a  Freinss  bishop")  makes  him 
speak  thus. — "  Par  Crist,"  he  sede,  "  Sir  Tomas,  tu  is  maveis. 
Meiiit  ben  te  ay  /et."  Rob.  Glouc.  p.  557. 

There  is  a  more  pleasant  instance  of  the  familiar  use  of  the 
French  language  by  a  bishop,  as  late  as  the  time  of  Edward  II. 
Louis,  consecrated  Bishop  of  Durham  in  1318,  was  unfortunately 
very  illiterate — "  laicus ;  Latinum  non  intelligens,  sed  cum  diffi- 
"  cultate  pronuncians.  Unde,  cum  in  consecratione  su&  profiteri 
"  debuit,  quamvis  per  multos  dies  ante  instructor^m  habuisset,  le- 
*'  gere  nescivit :  et  cum,  auriculantibus  [f.  articulantibus]  aliis,  cum 
"  difficultate  ad  illud  verbum  metropnliticee  pervenisset,  et  diu  an- 
"  helans  pronunciare  non  posset,  dixit  in  Gallico  ;  Seit  pur  dite. — 
"  Et  cum  similiter  celebraret  ordines,  nee  illud  verbum  in  eenigmale 
"  proferre  posset,  dixit  circumstantibus ;  Par  Seint  Lowy$,  il  ne 
"fu  pas  curteis,  qui  ceste  parole  id  cscrit."  Hist.  Dunelm.  ap. 
Wharton,  Ang  Sac.  t.  i.  p.  761. 

The  transactions  at  Norham,  in  1291,  the  20  Edw.  I.  with  re 
spect  to  the  Scottish  Succession,  appear  to  have  been  almost  wholly 
carried  on  in  French,  for  which  it  is  difficult^  to  account  but  by 
supposing  that  language  to  have  been  the  language  of  the  Court  in 
both  nations.  [See  the  Roll  de  Superior.  Reg.  Angl.  in  Prynne, 
t.  i.  p.  487,  et  seq.]  Edward's  claim  of  the  Superiority  is  first 
made  by  Sir  Roger  Brabanson  Scrmone  Gallico ;  and  afterwards 
the  Bishop  of  Bath  and  Wells,  and  the  King  himself,  speak  to  the 
assembly  of  English  and  Scots  in  the  ?nnie  language.  [Ibid.  p. 
499.  501.] 

The  answers  of  the  Bishop  of  Durham  to  the  Pope's  Nuncioes 
in  Gallico  [Walt.  Hemingf.  ad  an.  1 295.]  may  be  supposed  to 
have  been  out  of  complaisance  to  the  Cardinals,  (though,  by  the 

VOL.  I.  C 


18  ESSAY  ON  THE  LANGUAGE  AND 


a  knowledge  of  the  other.  The  general  induce 
ments  which  the  English  had  to  acquire  the  French 
language  have  been  touched  upon  above ;  to  which 
must  be  added,  that  the  children,  who  were  put  to 
learn  Latin,  were  under  a  necessity  of  learning 
French  at  the  same  time,  as  it  was  the  constant 
practice  in  all  schools,  from  the  Conquest  (21)  till 


way,  they  do  not  appear  to  have  been  Frenchmen ;)  but  no  such 
construction  can  be  put  upon  the  following  fact  related  by  Matthew 
of  Westminster  [ad  an.  J301.  p.  438.]  The  Archbishop  of  Can 
terbury  informs  the  Pope,  that  he  had  presented  his  Holinesses, 
letters  to  the  King  in  a  fulf  court,  "  quas  ipse  dominus  rex  reverenter 
recipiens,  eas  publice  legi  coram  omnibus,  et  in  Gallica  lingua  fece- 
rat  patenter  exponi." 

(21)  Ingulphus,  a  contemporary  writer,  informs  us  that  this 
practice  began  at  the  Conquest,  [p.  71.]  "  Ipsum  etiam  idioma 
"  [Anglicum]  tantum  alhorrebant  [Normanni],  quod  kges  terree 
"  statutaque  Anglicorum  regum  lingua  GallicA  tractarentur ;  et 
"  pueris  etiam  in  scholis  principia  iiterarum  grammatica  Gallice  ac 
"  non  Anglice  traderentur ;  modus  etiam  scribendi  Anglicus  omit' 
"  teretur,  et  modus  Gallicus  in  chartis  et  in  libris  omnibus  admit- 
teretur." — And  Trevisa,  the  translator  and  augmenter  of  Higden's 
Polychronicon  in  the  reign  of  Richard  II,  gives  us  a  very  particu 
lar  account  of  its  beginning  to  be  disused  within  his  own  memory. 
The  two  passages  of  Higden  and  Trevisa  throw  so  much  light 
upon  the  subject  of  our  present  enquiry  that  I  shall  insert  them 
both  at  length,  from  Ms.  Harl.  1900.  as  being  more  correct  in  se 
veral  places  than  the  Ms.  from  which  Dr.  Hickes  formerty  printed 
them  in  his  Praef.  ad  Thes.  Ling.  Septent.  p.  xvii. 


VERSIFICATION  OF  CHAUCER.  19 


about  the  reign  of  Edward  III,  to  make  the  scho 
lars  construe  their  Latin  lessons  into  French.  From 
the  discontinuance  of  this  practice,  as  well  as  from 
other  causes,  the  use,  and,  probably,  the  knowledge 
of  French,  as  a  separate  language,  received  a  con- 

HIODEN'S  Polychron.  b.  I.  c.  lix.  This  apayringe  of  the  birthe 
tonge  is  by  cause  of  tweye  thinges :  oon  is  for  children  in  scole, 
azencs  the  usage  and  maner  of  alle  other  naciouns,  beth  compelled 
for  to  leve  her  owne  langage,  and  for  to  constrewe  her  lessouns 
and  her  thingis  a  Frensche,  and  haveth  siththe  that  the  Normans 
come  first  into  England.  Also  gentil  mennes  children  beth  ytauzt 
for  to  speke  Frensche,  from  the  tyme  that  thei  beth  rokked  in 
her  cradel,  and  kunneth  speke  and  playe  with  a  childes  brooche. 
And  uplondish  men  wole  likne  hem  self  to  gentil  men,  and  fondeth 
with  grete  bisynesse  for  to  speke  Frensche,  for  to  be  the  more 
ytold  of. 

TREVISA.  This  maner  was  myche  yused  to  fore  the  first 
moreyn,  and  is  siththe  som  del  ychaungide.  For  John  Cornwaile, 
a  maistre  of  gramrner,  chaungide  the  lore  in  grammer  scole  and 
construction  of  Frensch  into  Englisch,  and  Richard  Pencriche 
lerned  that  maner  teching  of  him,  and  other  men  of  Pencriche. 
So  that  now,  the  zere  of  cure  lore  a  thousand  thre  hundred  foure 
score  and  fyve,  of  the  secunde  king  Rychard  after  the  Conquest 
nyne,  in  alle  the  gramer  scoles  of  Englond  children  leveth  Frensch, 
and  construeth  and  lerneth  an  Englisch,  and  haveth  therby 
avauntage  in  oon  side  and  desavauntage  in  another.  Her  avauntage 
is,  that  thei  lerneth  her  grammer  in  lasse  tyme  than  children  were 
wont  to  do.  Desavauntage  is,  that  now  children  of  grammer  scole 
kunneth  no  more  Frensch  than  can  her  lifte  heele.  And  that  is 
harm  for  hem,  and  thei  schul  passe  the  see  and  travaile  in  strange 
londes,  and  in  many  other  places  also.  Also  gentel  men  haveth 
now  mych  ylefte  for  to  teche  her  children  Frensch. 


20  ESSAY  ON  THE  LANGUAGE  AND 


siderable  check.  In  the  36th  year  of  Edward  III. 
a  law  (2C2)  was  made,  "  that  all  pleas,  in  the  courts 
of  the  King  or  of  any  other  Lord,  shall  be  pleaded 
and  judged  in  the  English  tongue,"  and  the  pream 
ble  recites,  "  that  the  French  tongue  (in  which  they 
had  been  usually  pleaded,  &c.)  was  too  much  un 
known"  or  disused  ;  and  yet,  for  near  threescore 


(22)  This  celebrated  statute  is  said  by  Walsingham  [p.  179.] 
to  have  been  made  "  ad  petitionem  Communitatis ;"  but  no  such 
petition  appears  upon  the  Parliament-roll :  and  it  seems  rather  to 
have  been  an  Act  of  Grace,  moving  from  the  King,  who  on  the 
same  day  entered  into  the  fiftieth  year  of  his  age  ;  "  unde  in  suo 
Jubileo  populo  suo  se  exhibuit  gratiosum."  Walsing.  ibid.  It  is 
remarkable  too,  that  the  cause  of  summons  at  the  beginning  of  this 
Parliament  was  declared  by  Sir  Henry  Greene,  Chief  Justice,  en 
Engleis  (says  the  Record  for  the  first  time) :  and  the  same  Entry 
is  repeated  in  the  Records  of  the  Parliaments  37  and  38  Edw. 
III.  but  not  in  those  of  40  Edw.  III.  or  of  any  later  Parliament ; 
either  because  the  custom  of  opening  the  cause  of  summons  in 
French  was  restored  again  after  that  short  interval,  or,  perhaps, 
because  the  new  practice  of  opening  it  in  English  was  so  well  es 
tablished  (in  the  opinion  of  the  Clerk)  as  not  to  need  being  marked 
by  a  special  Entry. 

The  reasons  assigned,  in  the  preamble  to  this  Statute,  for  having 
Pleas  and  Judgements  in  the  English  tongue,  might  all  have  been 
urged,  with  at  least  equal  force,  for  having  the  Laws  themselves 
in  that  language.  But  the  times  were  not  yet  ripe  for  that  innova 
tion.  The  English  scale  was  clearly  beginning  to  preponderate, 
but  the  slowness  of  its  motion  proves  that  it  had  a  great  weight  to 
overcome. 


VERSIFICATION  OF  CHAUCER.  21 


years  after  this  (23)  the  proceedings  in  Parliament 
(with  very  few  exceptions)  appear  to  have  been  all 
in  French,  and  the  statutes  continued  to  be  pub 
lished  in  the  same  language,  for  above  one  hundred 
and  twenty  years,  till  the  first  of  Richard  III. 

§  VIII.  From  what  has  been  said  I  think  we  may 
fairly  conclude,  that  the  English  language  must 

(23)  All  the  Parliamentary  proceedings  in  English  before  1422, 
the  first  of  Henry  VI,  are  the  few  which  follow. 

The  Confession  of  Thomas  Duke  of  Gloucester,  taken  at  Calais 
by  William  Rickhill  and  recorded  in  Parliament,  inter  Plac. 
Coron.  21  Ric.  II.  n.  9.  It  is  printed  in  Tyrrell,  v.  iii.  p.  793. 

Some  passages  in  the  Deposition  of  Richard  II.  printed  at  the 
end  of  Kmghton,  int.  X  Scriptores. 

The  ordinance  between  William  Lord  the  Roos  and  Robert 
Tinvhitt,  Justice  of  the  King's  Bench.  13  Hen.  IV.  n.  13. 

A  Petition  of  the  Commons  with  the  King's  answer.  2  Hen.  V. 
11.  22. 

A  Proviso  in  English  inserted  into  a  French  grant  of  a  Disme 
and  Quinzisme.  9  Hen.  V.  n.  10. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  reign  of  Henry  VI,  the  two  languages 
seem  to  have  been  used  indifferently.  The  Subsidy  of  Wolle  &c. 
was  granted  in  English.  1  Hen.  VI.  n.  19.  A  Proviso  in  French 
was  added  by  the  Commons  to  the  Articles  for  the  Council  of  Re 
gency,  which  are  in  English.  Ibid.  n.  33.  .Even  the  Royal  Assent 
was  given  to  Bills  in  English.  2  Hen.  VI.  n.  54.  Be  it  ordeined 
as  it  is  asked.  Be  it  as  it  is  axed. — and  again,  n.  55. 

I  have  stated  this  matter  so  particularly,  in  order  to  shew,  that 
when  the  French  language  ceased  to  be  generally  understood, 
it  was  gradually  disused  in  Parliamentary  proceedings ;  and  from 
thence,  I  think,  we  may  fairly  infer,  that  while  it  was  used  in 


£22  ESSAY  ON  THE  LANGUAGE  AND 


have  imbibed  a  strong  tincture  of  the  French,  long 
before  the  age  of  Chaucer,  and  consequently  that 
he  ought  not  to  be  charged  as  the  importer  of  words 
and  phrases,  which  he  only  used  after  the  example 
of  his  predecessors  and  in  common  with  his  con 
temporaries.  This  was  the  real  fact,  and  is  capa 
ble  of  being  demonstrated  to  any  one,  who  will  take 
the  trouble  of  comparing  the  writings  of  Chaucer 
with  those  of  (24)  Robert  of  Gloucester  and  Robert 

those  proceedings;  constantly  and  exclusively  of  the  English,  it 
must  have  been  very  generally  understood. 

{24)  Robert  of  Gloucester's  Chronicle  has  been  published  by 
Hearne,  Oxf.  1724,  faithfully,  I  daresay,  but  from  incorrect  Mss. 
The  author  speaks  of  himself  [p.  560.]  as  living  at  the  time  of  the 
Battle  of  Evesham  in  1265;  and  from  another  passage  [p.  224.] 
he  seems  to  have  lived  beyond  the  year  1278,  though  his  history 
ends  in  1270.  See  Hearne's  Pref.  p.  Ixviii. 

Robert  Manning  of  Brunne,  or  Bourn,  in  Lincolnshire,  trans 
lated  into  English  rimes,  from  the  French  of  Robert  Grosseteste, 
Bishop  of  Lincoln,  a  treatise  called  "  Manuel  de  Peches,"  as  early 
as  the  year  1303.  This  work  of  his  has  never  been  printed,  but 
is  preserved  among  the  Harleian  Mss.  n.  1701.  and  the  Bodleian, 
n.  2323.  He  also  translated  from  the  French  an  history  of  Eng 
land  ;  the  first  part,  or  Gesta  Britonum,  from  Master  Wace ;  the 
remainder,  to  the  death  of  Edward  I,  from  Peter  of  Langtoft. 
His  translation  was  finished  in  1338.  The  latter  part,  with  some 
extracts  from  the  former,  was  printed  by  Hearne  in  1725,  from  a 
single  Ms. 

Sir  John  Mandevilles  account  of  his  Travells  was  written  in  1356. 
In  the  last  edition,  Lond.  1727,  the  text  is  said  to  have  been 


VERSIFICATION  OF  CHAUCER.  23 


of  Brunne,  who  both  lived  before  him,  and  with 
those  of  Sir  John  Mandeville  and  Wicliff,  who  lived 
at  the  same  time  with  him.  If  we  coud  for  a  mo 
ment  suppose  the  contrary ;  if  we  coud  suppose 
that  the  English  idiom,  in  the  age  of  Chaucer,  re 
mained  pure  and  unmixed,  as  it  was  spoken  in  the 
courts  of  Alfred  or  Egbert,  and  that  the  French  was 
still  a  foreign,  or  at  least  a  separate  language;  I 
would  ask,  whether  it  is  credible,  that  a  Poet, 
writing  in  English  upon  the  most  familiar  subjects, 
would  stuff  his  compositions  with  French  words  and 
phrases,  which  (upon  the  above  supposition)  must 
have  been  unintelligible  to  the  greatest  part  of  his 
readers ;  or,  if  he  had  been  so  very  absurd,  is  it 
conceivable,  that  he  should  have  immediately  be 
come,  not  only  the  most  admired,  but  also  the  most 
popular  writer  of  his  time  and  country  ? 


formed  from  a  collation  of  several  Mss.  and  seems  to  be  tolerably 
correct. 

Wicliff  died  in  1384.  His  translation  of  the  New  Testament 
was  printed  for  the  first  time  by  Lewis,  Lond.  1731.  There  is  an 
immense  Catalogue  of  other  works,  either  really  his  or  ascribed  to 
him,  still  extant  in  Ms.  See  his  Life  by  Lewis ;  and  Tanner,  Bibl. 
Brit. 


24  ESSAY  ON   THE  LANGUAGE  AND 


PART   THE   SECOND. 

Having  thus  endeavoured  to  shew,  in  opposition 
to  the  ill-grounded  censures  of  Verstegan  and  Skin 
ner,  that  the  corruption  (or  improvement)  of  the 
English  language  by  a  mixture  of  French  was  not 
originally  owing  to  Chaucer,  I  shall  proceed,  in  the 
second  part  of  this  Essay,  to  make  some  observa 
tions  upon  the  most  material  peculiarities  of  that 
Norman-Saxon  dialect,  which  I  suppose  to  have 
prevailed  in  the  age  of  Chaucer,  and  which,  in 
substance,  remains  to  this  day  the  language  of 
England. 

§  I.  By  what  means  the  French  tongue  was  first 
introduced  and  propagated  in  this  island  has  been 
sufficiently  explained  above ;  but  to  ascertain  with 
any  exactness  the  degrees,  by  which  it  insinuated 
itself  and  was  ingrafted  into  the  Saxon,  would  be  a 
much  more  difficult  task  (25),  for  want  of  a  regular 

(25)  In  order  to  trace  with  exactness  the  progress  of  any  lan 
guage,  it  seems  necessary,  1.  that  we  should  have  before  us  a  con 
tinued  series  of  authors ;  2.  that  those  authors  should  have  been 
approved,  as  having  written,  at  least,  with  purity ;  and  3.  that 
their  writings  should  have  been  correctly  copied.  In  the  English 
language,  we  have  scarce  any  authors  within  the  first  century  after 
the  Conquest ;  of  those,  who  wrote  before  Chaucer,  and  whose 


VERSIFICATION  OF  CHAUCER.  25 


series  of  the  writings  of  approved  authors  transmit 
ted  to  us  by  authentic  copies.  Luckily  for  us,  as 
our  concern  is  solely  with  that  period  when  the  in 
corporation  of  the  two  languages  was  completed,  it 
is  of  no  great  importance  to  determine  the  precise 
time  at  which  any  word  or  phrase  became  natu 
ralized  ;  and  for  the  same  reason,  we  have  no  need 
to  enquire  minutely,  with  respect  to  the  other  al 
terations,  which  the  Saxon  language  in  its  several 
stages  appears  to  have  undergone,  how  far  they 
proceeded  from  the  natural  mutability  of  human 
speech  (especially  among  an  unlearned  people),  and 
how  far  they  were  owing  to  a  successive  conflux  of 
Danish  and  Norman  invaders. 

§  II.  The  following  observations  therefore  will 
chiefly  refer  to  the  state,  in  which  the  English  lan 
guage  appears  to  have  been  about  the  time  of  Chau 
cer,  and  they  will  naturally  divide  themselves  into 
two  parts.  The  first  will  consider  the  remains  of 
the  antient  Saxon  mass,  however  defaced  or  dis- 


writings  have  been  preserved,  we  have  no  testimony  of  approba 
tion  from  their  contemporaries  or  successors ;  and  lastly,  the 
Copies  of  their  works,  which  we  have  received,  are  in  general  so 
full  of  inaccuracies,  as  to  make  it  often  very  difficult  for  us  to  be 
assured,  that  we  are  in  possession  of  the  genuine  words  of  the 
Author. 


26  ESSAY  ON  THE  LANGUAGE  AND 


guised  by  various  accidents;  the  second  will  en 
deavour  to  point  out  the  nature  and  effects  of  the 
accessions,  which,  in  the  course  of  near  three  cen 
turies,  it  had  received  from  Normandy. 

§  III.  For  the  sake  of  method  it  will  be  conve 
nient  to  go  through  the  several  parts  of  speech  in 
the  order,  in  which  they  are  commonly  ranged  by 
Grammarians. 

1.  The  Prepositive  Article  ye,  j*eo,  pat,  (which 
answered  to  the  <5,  ^,  TO,  of  the  Greeks,  in  all  its 
varieties  of  gender,  case,  and  number,)  had  been 
long  laid  aside,  and  instead  of  it  an  indeclinable 
the  was  prefixed  to  all  sorts  of  nouns,  in  all  cases, 
and  in  both  numbers. 

2.  The  Declensions  of  the  Nouns   Substantive 
were  reduced  from  six  to  one ;  and  instead  of  a 
variety  of  cases  in  both  numbers,  they  had  only  a 
Genitive  case  singular,  which  was  uniformly  de 
duced  from  the  Nominative  by  adding  to  it  es;  or 
only  s,  if  it  ended  in  an  e  feminine ;  and  that  same 
form  was  used  to  express  the  (26)  Plural  number  in 

I 

(26)  It  i«  scarce  necessary  to  take  notice  of  a  few  Plurals,  which 
were  expressed  different!}',  though  their  number  was  greater  in  the 
rime  of  Chaucer  than  it  is  now.  Some  of  them  seem  to  retain 
their  termination  in  en  from  the  second  Declension  of  the  Saxons ; 
as,  oxen,  eyen,  hosen,  &c.  Others  seem  to  have  adopted  it  eu- 


VERSIFICATION  OF  CHAUCER. 


all  its  cases  :  as,  Nom,  Shour,  Gen.  Shoures,  Plur. 
Shoures.  Nom.  Name,  Gen.  Names,  Plur.  Names. 

The  Nouns  Adjective  had  lost  all  distinction  of 
Gender,  Case,  or  Number. 

3.  The  Primitive  Pronouns  retained  one  oblique 
case  (27)  in  each  number :  as,  Ic,  or  I;  We:  Obi. 
Me;  Us.— Thou;  Fe:Obl.  Thee;  You.— He,  She ; 
Hi  (28),  or  They:  Obi.  Him,  Hire;  Hem,  or  Them. 

Their  Possessives  were  in  the  same  state  with  the 
Adjectives;  Min,  Thin,  His,  Hire;  Oure,  Youre, 
Hir,  or  Their  (29). 

phonitE  gratia ;  as,  brethren,  eyren,  instead  of,  bjlo'Sjau,  sejJIU. 
And  a  few  seem  to  have  been  always  irregularly  declined ;  as,  men, 
wimmen,  mice,  lice,  feet  &c.  See  Hickes,  Gr.  A.  S.  p.  11,  If. 

(27)  I  take  no  notice  here  of  the  Genitive  cases,  min,  thin,  oure, 
ytrure  &c.  as  being  at  this  time  hardly  ever  distinguishable  from 
Pronouns  Possessive.      How  are  we  to  know  whether  min  boke 
should  be  rendered  liber  mei,  or  liber  metis?  In  the  Plural  number 
however,  in  a  few  instances,  the  Genitive  case  seems  to  have  re 
tained  its  proper  power.     C.  T.  v.  825.  oure  aller  cok — would  be 
more  naturally  translated — nostr&m  omnium  gallus,  than,  nosier 
omnium.     And  so  in  P.  P.  fol.  cxi.      Youre  aller  hele.  vestrtim 
omnium  salus  ;  not,  vestra. 

(28)  It  is  very  difficult  to  say  from  whence,  or  why,  the  Pro 
nouns,  They,  Them,  and  Their,  were  introduced  into  our  language. 
The  Saxon  Pronouns,  Hi,  Hem,  and  Hir,  seem  to  have  been  in 
constant  use  in  the  time  of  Robert  of  Gloucester.     Sir  John  Man- 
deville  and  Chaucer  use  They,  for  Hi;  but  never,  as  I  remember 
(in  the  Mss.  of  authority)  Them,  or  Their. 

(29)  The  four  last  of  these  Possessive  Pronouns  were  sometimes 


28  ESSAY  ON  THE  LANGUAGE  AND 


The  Interrogative  and  Relative  Who  had  a  Geni 
tive  and  Accusative  case,  Whos,  and  Whom,  but  no 
variety  of  Number. 

On  the  contrary,  the  Demonstrative,  This,  and 
That,  had  a  Plural  expression,  Thise,  and  Tho,  but 
no  variety  of  case. 

The  other  words,  which  are  often  (though  im 
properly)  placed  in  the  class  of  Pronouns,  were  all 
become  undeclined,  like  the  Adjectives;  except, 
Eyther,  alteruter;  Neyther,  neuter;  Other,  alter; 


expressed  a  little  differently,  viz.  Hires,  Oures,  Youres,  and  Hirs, 
or  Theirs ;  as  they  are  still,  when  the  Noun  to  which  they  belong 
is  understood,  or  when  they  are  placed  after  it  in  a  sentence.  To 
the  question,  Whose  book  is  this  ?  we  answer,  Hers,  Ours,  Yours, 
or  Theirs:  or  we  declare;  This  book  is  Hers,  Ours  &c.  lean 
hardly  conceive  that  the  final  s  in  these  words  is  a  mark  of  the 
Possessive  (or  Genitive)  case,  as  a  very  able  writer  [Short  Intro 
duction  to  English  Grammar,  p.  35,  6.]  seems  to  be  inclined  to 
think;  because  in  the  instances  just  mentioned,  and  in  all  which  I 
have  been  able  to  find  or  to  imagine,  I  cannot  discover  the  least 
trace  of  the  usual  powers  of  the  Genitive  case.  The  learned  Wallis 
[Gram.  Ang.  c.  7.]  has  explained  the  use  of  these  Pronouns  with 
out  attempting  to  account  for  their  form.  He  only  adds ;  "  Non- 
nulli,  hern,  ourn,  yourn,  hisn,  dicunt,  pro  hers,  ours,  &c.  sed  bar- 
bare,  nee  quisquam  (credo)  sic  scribere  solet."  If  it  coud  be 
proved  that  these  words  were  antiently  terminated  in  n,  we  might 
be  led  to  conjecture  that  they  were  originally  abbreviations  of  her 
own,  our  own,  &c.  the  n  being  afterwards  softened  into  s,  as  it  has, 
been  in  many  other  words. 


VERSIFICATION  OF  CHAUCER.  29 


which  had  a  Genitive  case  Singular,  Eytheres,  Ney- 
theres,  Otheres:  Other,  alius,  had  a  Genitive  case 
singular,  and  a  Plural  number,  Otheres ,•  and  Aller 
(a  corruption  of  ealjia)  was  still  in  use,  as  the  Geni 
tive  Plural  of  Alle  (30). 

(30)  It  may  be  proper  here  to  take  a  little  notice  of  the  Pro 
noun,  or  Pronominal  Adjective,  Self,  which  our  best  Grammarians, 
from  Wallis  downwards,  have  attempted  to  metamorphose  into  a 
substantive.  In  the  Saxon  language,  it  is  certain  that  Sylf  was  de 
clined  like  other  Adjectives,  and  was  joined  in  construction  with 
Pronouns  Personal  and  Substantives,  just  as  ipse  is  in  Latin.  They 
said,  Ic  sylf,  Ego  ipse ;  Min  sylfes,  mei  ipsius ;  Me  sylfne,  me 
ipsum,  &«:;  Petrus  sylf,  Petrus  ipse,  &c.  [See  Hickes,  Gr-  A.  S. 
p.  26.]  In  the  age  of  Chaucer,  Self,  like  other  Adjectives,  was 
become  undeclined.  Though  he  writes,  Self,  Selve,  and  Selven, 
those  varieties  do  not  denote  any  distinction  of  case  or  number; 
for  he  uses  indifferently,  himself  and  himselven;  hemselfand  hem- 
seh'en.  He  joins  it  with  Substantives,  in  the  sense  of  ipse,  as  the 
Saxons  did.  [See  v.  2862.  In  that  selve  grove.  In  illo  ipso  ne- 
more.  v.  4555.  Thy  selve  neighebour.  Ipse  tuus  vicinus.]  But 
his  great  departure  from  the  antient  usage  was  with  respect  to  the 
Pronouns  Personal  prefixed  to  Self.  Instead  of  declining  them 
through  the  cases  which  they  still  retained,  he  uses  constantly, 
Myself,  for,  I  self,  and,  Me  self;  Thyself,  for,  Thou  self,  and,  Thee 
self;  Him  self  and  Hire  self,  for,  He  self  and  She  self;  and  in  the 
Piural  number,  Our  self,  for,  We  self,  and  Us  self;  Your  self, 
for,  Ye  self  and  You  self;  and  Hem  self,  for,  They  self. 

It  would  be  vain  to  attempt  to  defend  this  practice  of  Chaucer 
upon  any  principles  of  reason  or  grammatical  analogy.  All  that 
can  be  said  for  it  is,  that  perhaps  any  regular  practice  was  pre 
ferable  to  the  confusion  and  uncertainty  which  seems  to  have  pre- 


SO  ESSAY  ON  THE  LANGUAGE  AND 


4.  The  Verbs,  at  the  time  of  which  we  are  treat 
ing,  were  very  nearly  reduced  to  the  simple  state 
in  which  they  are  at  present. 

They  had  four  Modes,  as  now;  the  Indicative, 
the  Imperative,  the  Subjunctive,  and  the  Infinitive, 
and  only  two  expressions  of  Time,  the  Present  and 
the  Past.  All  the  other  varieties  of  Mode  and  Time 
were  expressed  by  Auxiliary  Verbs. 

In  the  Inflexions  of  their  Verbs,  they  differed 
very  little  from  us,  in  the  Singular  number :  I  love, 
Thou  lovest,  He  loveth :  but  in  the  Plural  they  were 

vailed  before.  Accordingly,  the  writers  who  succeeded  him  fol 
lowing  his  example,  it  hecame  a  rule,  as  I  conceive,  of  the  English 
language,  that  Personal  Pronouns  prefixed  to  Self  were  only  used 
in  one  cate  in  each  number ;  viz.  those  of  the  First  and  Second 
Person  in  the  Genitive  case  (according  to  the  Saxon  form),  and 
those  of  the  Third  in  the  Accusative. 

By  degrees  a  custom  was  introduced  of  annexing  Self  to  Pro- 
nouns  in  the  Singular  number  only,  and  Selves  (a  corruption,  I 
suppose,  of  Selven)  to  those  in  the  Plural.  Thic  probably  con 
tributed  to  persuade  our  late  Grammarians  that  Self  was  a  Sub 
stantive;  as  the  true  English  Adjective  does  not  vary  in  the  Plural 
number.  Another  cause  of  their  mistake  might  be,  that  they  con 
sidered,  my,  thy,  our,  your,  (to  which  self  is  usually  joined)  as  Pro 
nouns  Possessive;  whereas  I  think  it  more  probable  that  they  were 
the  Saxon  Genitive  cases  of  the  Personal  Pronouns.  The  meta 
physical  Substantive  Self,  of  which  our  more  modern  Philosophers 
and  Poets  have  made  so  much  use,  was  unknown,  I  believe,  in  the 
time  of  Chaucer. 


VERSFICATION  OF  CHAUCER.  31 


not  agreed  among  themselves  ;  some  (3 1 )  adhering 
to  the  Old  Saxon  form ;  We  loveth,  Ye  loveth,  They 
loveth ;  and  others  adopting,  what  seems  to  have 
been,  the  Teutonic ;  We  loven,  Ye  loven,  They  loven. 
In  the  Plural  of  the  Past  Tense  the  latter  form  pre 
vailed  universally;  I  loved,  thou  lovedest,  he  loved; 
We  loveden,  Ye  loveden,  They  loveden. 

The  second  person  Plural  in  the  Imperative  Mode 
regularly  terminated  in  eth;  as,  Loveth  ye  (32); 
though  the  final  consonants  (according  to  the  ge 
nius  of  the  language)  were  frequently  omitted,  es 
pecially  in  verse. 

The  Saxon  termination  of  the  Infinitive  in  an  had 
been  long  changed  into  en ;  to  loven,  to  liven,  &c. 
and  they  were  beginning  to  drop  the  n  ;  to  love,  to 
live. 

The  Participle  of  the  Present  Time  began  to  be 
generally  terminated  in  ing ;  as,  loving ;  though  the 

(31 )  In  the  long  quotation  from  Trevisa  (which  see  above,  n. 
21.)  it  may  be  observed,  that  all  his  Plural  Verbs  of  the  Present 
Tense  terminate  in  eth;  whereas  in  Sir  John  Mandeville  and 
Chaucer  they  terminate  almost  as  constantly  in  en. 

(32)  Mand.  p.  281.     And   at  certeyn  houres — thei  seyn  to 
certeyn  officeres — Maketh  pees  (i.  e.  Make  ye  silence).     And  than 
sein  the  Officeres,  Now  pees !  lysteneth  (i.  e.  listen  ye) — In  the 
following  page,  Stondeth,  is  used  for,  Stand  ye ;  and  Putteth,  for, 
Put  ye.    See  Appendix  to  Preface  A.  n.  (e). 


32  ESSAY  ON  THE  LANGUAGE  AND 


old  form,  which  terminated  in  ende,  or  ande,  was 
still  in  use ;  as,  lovende,  or  lovande.  The  Participle 
of  the  Past  time  continued  to  be  formed,  as  the 
Past  time  itself  was,  in  ed;  as,  loved;  or  in  some 
contraction  of  ed(33);  except  among  the  irregular 


(33)  The  methods,  by  which  the  final  ed  of  the  Past  Tense  and 
its  Participle  was  contracted  or  abbreviated,  in  the  age  of  Chaucer, 
were  chiefly  the  following  : 

1.  By  throwing  away  the  d. 

This  method  took  place  in  Verbs,  whose  last  Consonant  was  f, 
preceded  by  a  Consonant.  Thus,  caste,  coste,  hurte,  putte,  slitte, 
were  used  instead  of,  casted,  costed,  hurted,  putted,  slitted, 

2.  By  transposing  the  d. 

This  was  very  generally  done  in  Verbs,  whose  last  Consonant 
was  d,  preceded  by  a  Vowel.  Thus,  instead  of,  reded,  leded, 
spreded,  bleded,  feded,  it  was  usual  to  write,  redde,  ledde,  spredde, 
bledde,  fedde. — And  this  same  method  of  transposition,  I  appre 
hend,  was  originally  applied  to  shorten  those  words  which  we  now 
contract  by  Syncope  ;  as,  lov'd,  liv'd,  smifd,  hear'd,  fear'd,  which 
were  antiently  written,  lovde,  livde,  smilde,  herde,ferde. 

3.  By  transposing  the  d  and  changing  it  into  t. 

This  method  was  used  1.  in  Verbs,  whose  last  Consonant  was  t, 
preceded  by  a  Vowel.  Thus,  leted,  sweted,  meted,  were  changed 
into,  lette,  swette,  mette. — 2.  in  Verbs,  whose  last  Consonant  was 
d,  preceded  by  a  Consonant.  Thus,  bended,  bilded,  girded,  were 
changed  into,  bentc,  bilte,  girte. — And  generally,  in  Verbs,  in 
which  d  is  changed  into  t,  I  conceive  that  d  was  first  transposed  ; 
so  that  dwelled,  passed,  dremcd,  feled,  keped,  should  be  supposed  to 
have  been  first  changed  into,  dwellde,  passde,  dremde,  feldc,  kepde, 
and  then  into,  dwelte,  paste,  dremte,felte,  kepte. 


VERSIFICATION  OF  CHAUCER. 


Verbs  (34),  where  for  the  most  part  it  terminated 
in  en;  as,  bounden,founden. 

The  greatest  part  of  the  Auxiliary  Verbs  were 
only  in  use  in  the  Present  and  Past  Tenses  of  their 
Indicative  and  Subjunctive  Modes.  They  were 
inflected  in  those  tenses  like  other  Verbs,  and  were 
prefixed  to  the  Infinitive  Mode  of  the  Verb  to  which 
they  were  Auxiliary.  I  shall  loven ;  I  will,  or  woll, 

4.  The  last  method,  together  with  a  change  of  the  radical 
vowel,  will  account  for  the  analogy  of  a  species  of  Verbs,  generally 
reputed  anomalous,  which  form  their  Past  Time  and  its  Participle 
(according  to  modern  orthography)  in  ght.  The  process  seems  to 
have  been  thus.  Bring,  bringed,  brongde,  brogde,  brogte;  Think, 
thinked,  thonkde,  thokde,  thokte ;  Teche,  teched,  tachde,  tachte,  &c. 
Only  fought,  from  Jighted,  seems  to  have  been  formed,  by  throw 
ing  away  the  d  (according  to  method  1.)  and  changing  the  radical 
Vowel.  See  instances  of  similar  contractions  in  the  Francic  lan 
guage.  Hickes,  Gramm.  Fr.  Th.  p.  66. 

(34)  I  consider  those  verbs  only  as  irregular,  in  which  the  Past 
Time  and  its  Participle  differ  from  each  other.  Their  varieties 
are  too  numerous  to  be  particularly  examined  here;  but  I  believe 
there  are  scarce  any,  in  which  the  deviations  from  the  regular 
form  will  not  appear  to  have  been  made  by  some  method  of  con 
traction,  or  abbreviation,  similar  to  those  which  have  been  pointed 
out  in  the  last  note  among  the  Regular  Verbs.  The  common  ter 
mination  of  the  Participle  in  en  is  clearly  a  substitution  for  ed, 
probably  for  the  sake  of  a  more  agreeable  sound ;  and  it  is  often 
shortened,  as  ed  has  been  shewn  to  be,  by  transposition.  Thus, 
drawcn,  knowen,  boren,  stolen,  were  changed  into  draime,  knowne, 
borne,  stolne. 

VOL.  I.  D 


34  ESS'AY  ON  THE  LANGUAGE  AND 


loven ;  I  may,  or  mow,  loven  ;  I  can,  or  con,  loven, 
&c.  We  shullen  loven  ;  We  willen,  or  wollcn, 
loven ;  We  motcen  loven  ;  We  connen  loven,  &c. 
In  the  Past  tense,  I  (35)  sjiulde  loven;  I  wolde 
loven  ;  I  mighte,  or  moughte  loven ;  I  coude  loven, 
&c.  We  shulden,  we  wolden,  we  mighten,  or 
moughten,  we  couden  loven,  &c. 

The  Auxiliary  To  Haven  was  a  complete  Verb, 
and,  being  prefixed  to  the  Participle  of  the  Past 
time,  was  used  to  express  the  Preterperfect  and 
Preterpluperfect  Tenses.  I  have  loved,  Thou  havest, 
or  hast  loved,  He  haveth,  or  hath  loved ;  We  haven, 
or  han  loved,  &c.  I  hadde  (36)  loved,  thou  haddest 
loved,  he  hadde  loved ;  We,  ye,  they,  hodden  loved. 

The  Auxiliary  To  ben  was  also  a  complete  Verb, 
and  being  prefixed  to  the  Participle  of  the  Past 

(35)  Shulde  and  Wolde  are  contracted  from  Skulled,  and  Wolled, 
by  transposing  the  d,  according  to  method  2. 

Mighte  and  Moughte  are  formed  from  maghed  and  moghed,  ac 
cording  to  method  3.  Maghed,  maghde,  maghte  ;  Moghed,  moghde, 
moghte. 

Coude  is  from  conned,  by  transposition  of  the  d,  and  softening 
the  n  into  u.  It  is  often  written  couthe,  and  always  so,  I  believe, 
when  it  is  used  as  a  Participle.  In  the  same  manner  Bishop 
Douglas,  and  other  Scotish  writers,  use  Begouth  as  the  Preterit 
of  Begin.  Begonned,  begonde,  begoude,  begouthe* 

(36)  Hadde  is  contracted  from  Haved,  as  made  is  from  naked. 
See  Hickes,  Gram.  Fr.  Th.  p.  66. 


VERSIFICATION  OF  CHAUCEIl.  35 


time,  with  the  help  of  the  other  Auxiliary  Verbs, 
supplied  the  place  of  the  whole  Passive  voice,  for 
which  the  Saxon  language  had  no  other  form  of  ex 
pression.  I  am,  thou  art,  he  is  loved ;  We,  ye, 
they,  aren,  or  ben  loved.  I  was,  thou  wast,  he  was 
loved  ;  We,  ye,  they,  weren  loved  (37). 

5.  With  respect  to  the  indeclinable  parts  of 
Speech,  it  will  be  sufficient  to  observe  here,  that 
many  of  them  still  remained  pure  Saxon :  the 
greatest  number  had  undergone  a  slight  change  of 
a  letter  or  two ;  and  the  more  considerable  altera 
tions,  by  which  some  had  been  disfigured,  were 
fairly  deducible  from  that  propensity  to  abbrevia 
tion,  for  which  the  inhabitants  of  this  island  have 


(37)  The  Verb  To  do  is  considered  by  Wallis,  and  other  later 
Grammarians,  as  an  Auxiliary  Verb.  It  is  so  used,  though  very 
rarely,  by  Chaucer.  [See  v.  14742,  4.]  He  more  commonly  uses 
it  transitively  :  [v.  10074.  Do  stripen  me.  Faites  me  depouiller. 
— v.  10075.  Do  me  drenche.  Faites  me  noi/er.]  but  still  more 
frequently  to  save  the  repetition  of  a  verb.  [v.  269. 

His  eyen  twiukeled  in  his  hed  aright, 

As  DON  the  sterres  in  a  frosty  night.] 

Dr.  Hickes  has  taken  notice  that  do  was  used  in  this  last  manner 
by  the  Saxons  :  [Gr.  A.  S.  p.  77.]  and  so  was/aire  by  the  French, 
and  indeed  is  still.  It  must  be  confessed,  that  the  exact  power, 
which  do,  as  an  auxiliary,  now  has  in  our  language,  is  not  easy  to 
be  defined,  and  still  less  to  be  accounted  for  from  analogy. 


36  ESSAY  ON  THE  LANGUAGE  AND 


been  long  remarkable,  though  perhaps  not  more 
justly  so  than  their  neighbours. 

§  IV.  Such  was,  in  general,  the  state  of  the  Saxon 
part  of  the  English  language  when  Chaucer  began 
to  write  :  let  us  now  take  a  short  view  of  the  ac 
cessions,  which  it  may  be  supposed  to  have  re 
ceived  at  different  times  from  Normandy. 

As  the  language  of  our  ancestors  was  complete 
in  all  its  parts,  and  had  served  them  for  the  pur 
poses  of  discourse  and  even  of  composition  in  va 
rious  kinds,  long  before  they  had  any  intimate  ac 
quaintance  with  their  French  neighbours,  they  had 
no  call  from  necessity  (and  consequently  no  suf 
ficient  inducement)  to  alter  its  original  and  radical 
constitutions,  or  even  its  customary  forms.  Ac 
cordingly,  we  have  just  seen,  that,  in  all  the  es 
sential  parts  of  Speech,  the  characteristical  features 
of  the  Saxon  idiom  were  always  preserved  ;  and  we 
shall  see  presently,  that  the  crowds  of  French  words, 
which,  from  time  to  time  were  imported,  were  them 
selves  made  subject,  either  immediately  or  by  de 
grees,  to  the  laws  of  that  same  idiom. 

§  V.  The  words,  which  were  thus  imported,  were 
chiefly  Nouns  Substantive,  Adjectives,  Verbs,  and 
Participles.  The  Adverbs,  which  are  derived  from 
French  Adjectives,  seem  to  have  been  formed  from 


VERSIFICATION  OF  CHAUCER.  37 


them  after  they  were  Anglicised,  as  they  have  all 
the  Saxon  termination  lich  or  ty,  (38)  instead  of  the 
French  ment.  As  to  the  other  indeclinable  parts 
of  Speech,  our  language,  being  sufficiently  rich  in 
its  own  stores,  has  borrowed  nothing  from  France, 
except  perhaps  an  Interjection  or  two. 

The  Nouns  Substantive  in  the  French  language 
(as  in  all  the  other  languages  derived  from  the 
Latin)  had  lost  their  Cases  long  before  the  time  of 
which  we  are  treating ;  but  such  of  them  as  were 
naturalised  here,  seem  all  to  have  acquired  a  Geni 
tive  case,  according  to  the  corrupted  Saxon  form, 
which  has  been  stated  above.  Their  Plural  num 
ber  was  also  new  modelled  to  the  same  form,  if 
necessary ;  for  in  Nouns  ending  in  e  feminine,  as 
the  greater  part  of  the  French  did,  the  two  lan 
guages  were  already  agreed.  Nom.  Flour.  Gen. 
Floures.  Plur.  Floures.  Nom.  Dame.  Gen.  Dames. 
Plur.  Dames. 

On  the  contrary,  the  Adjectives,  which  at  home 
had  a  distinction  of  Gender  and  Number,  upon 
their  naturalisation  here,  seem  to  have  been  ge 
nerally  stript  of  both,  and  reduced  to  the  simple 

(38)  As,  rarely,  continually,  veraily,  bravely,  &c.  which  cor 
respond  to  the  French  adverbs,  rarement,  continuellement,  verai- 
ment,  bravemeot,  &c. 


38  ESSAY  ON  TUE  LANGUAGE  AND 


state  of  the  English  Adjective,  without  Case,  Gen 
der,  or  Number. 

The  French  Verbs  were  obliged  to  lay  aside  all 
their  differences  of  Conjugation.  Accorder,  souffrir, 
recevoir,  descendre,  were  regularly  changed  into — 
accorden,  suffren,  receiven,  descenden.  They  brought 
with  them  only  two  Tenses,  the  Present  and  the 
Past;  nor  did  they  retain  any  singularity  of  In 
flexion,  which  coud  distinguish  them  from  other 
Verbs  of  Saxon  growth. 

The  Participle  indeed  of  the  Present  time,  in 
some  Verbs,  appears  to  have  still  preserved  its  ori 
ginal  French  form  ;  as,  usant,  suffisant,  &c. 

The  Participle  of  the  Past  time  adopted,  almost 
universally,  the  regular  Saxon  termination  in  ed ; 
as,  accorded,  suffred,  received,  descended.  It  even 
frequently  assumed  the  prepositive  particle  je,  (or 
y,  as  it  was  latterly  written,)  which,  among  the 
Saxons,  was  very  generally,  though  not  peculiarly, 
prefixed  to  that  Participle. 

§  VI.  Upon  the  whole,  I  believe  it  may  be  said 
with  truth,  that,  at  the  time  which  we  are  consider 
ing,  though  the  form  of  our  Language  was  still 
Saxon,  the  matter  was  in  a  great  measure  French. 
The  novelties  of  all  kinds,  which  the  Revolution  in 
1066  had  introduced,  demanded  a  large  supply  of 


VERSIFICATION  OF  CHAUCER. 


new  terms ;  and  our  Ancestors  very  naturally  took 
what  they  wanted,  from  the  Language  which  was 
already  familiar  to  a  considerable  part  of  the  Com 
munity.  Our  Poets  in  particular  (who  have  ge 
nerally  the  principal  share  in  modelling  a  Lan 
guage)  found  it  their  interest  to  borrow  as  many 
words  as  they  conveniently  coud  from  France.  As 
they  were  for  a  long  time  chiefly  Translators,  this 
expedient  saved  them  the  trouble  of  hunting  for 
correspondent  terms  in  Saxon.  The  French  words 
too,  being  the  remains  of  a  polished  language,  were 
smoother  and  slid  easier  into  metre  than  the  Saxon, 
which  had  never  undergone  any  regular  cultiva 
tion  :  Their  final  syllables  chimed  together  with 
more  frequent  consonancies,  and  their  Accents 
were  better  adapted  to  Riming  Poetry.  But  more 
of  this  in  the  next  Part. 

PART  THE  THIRD. 

Before  we  proceed  in  the  third  and  last  part  of 
this  Essay,  in  which  we  are  to  consider  the  Versi 
fication  of  Chaucer,  it  may  be  useful  to  premise  a 
few  observations  upon  the  state  of  English  Poetry 
antecedent  to  his  time. 

§  I.  That  the  Saxons  had  a  species  of  writing, 


40  ESSAY  ON  THE  LANGUAGE  AND 


which  differed  from  their  common  prose,  and  was 
considered  by  themselves  as  Poetry  (39),  is  very 
certain  ;  but  it  seems  equally  certain,  that  their 
compositions  of  that  kind  were  neither  divided  into 
verses  of  a  determinate  number  of  syllables,  nor 
embellished  with  what  we  call  Rime  (40).  There 

(39)  The   account  which   Beda  has  given  of  Caedraon   [Eccl. 
Hist.  1.  iv.  c.  24.]  is  sufficient  to  prove  this.     He  repeatedly  calls 
the  compositions   of    Caedmon   carmina — poemata — and   in  one 
place,  versus :  which  words  in  the  Saxon  translation  are  rendered, 
leojj,— leojj   J*onSer>  or  ronSer— and  fej\r  :  and  ars 
canendi  is  translated,  leoj?  Cjaoepr  or  J*anj  CJiaejrt. 

Asser  also,  in  his  life  of  Alfred,  speaks  of  Saxonica  poemata  and 
Saxonica  carmina  [p.  16.  43.] ;  and  most  probably  the  Cantilena 
per  successiones  temporum  detrite,  which  Malmesbury  cites  in  his 
History,  1.  11.  p.  52.  were  in  the  Saxon  language.  The  same 
writer  [1.  v.  de  Pontif.  edit.  Gale.]  mentions  a  Carmen  triviale  of 
Aldhelm  (the  author  of  the  Latin  Poem  de  Virginitate,  who  died 
in  709),  as  adhuc  vulgo  cantitatum  ;  and  he  quotes  the  testimony 
of  King  Alfred,  in  his  Liber  manualis,  or  Hand-boc,  as  saying, 
"  that  no  one  was  ever  equal  to  Aldhelm  in  English  Poetry." 

(40)  Both  these  circumstances  are  evident  from  the  most  cursory 
view  of  the  several  specimens  of  Saxon  Poetry,  which  Hickes  has 
exhibited  in  his  Gram.   Ang.  Sax.  c.  xxi.  and  they  are  allowed  by 
that  learned  writer  himself.     Unwilling  however,  as   it  should 
seem,  to  leave  his  favourite  language  without  some  system  of  ver 
sification,  he  supposes,  that  the  Saxons  observed  the  quantity  of 
syllables  in  their  verses,  "  though  perhaps,"  he  adds,  "  not   so 
strictly  as  the  Heroic  Greek  and  Latin  Poets." 

He  gives  three  reasons  for  this  supposition.     1.  Because  they 


VERSIFICATION  OF  CHAUCER.  41 


are  no  traces,  I  believe,  to  be  found  of  either  Rime 
or  Metre  in  our  language,  till  some  years  after  the 

did  not  use  Rime.  2.  Because  they  transposed  their  words  in 
such  an  unnatural  manner.  "  Hoc  autem  cur  facerent  Anglo- 
"  Saxonum  Poeta?,  nulla,  ut  videtur,  alia  assignari  causa  potest' 
"  quam  quse,  ut  idem  facerent,  Graces  et  Latinos  poetas  coegit ; 
"  nempe  Metri  Lex."  3.  Because  they  had  a  great  number  of 
dissyllable  and  polysyllable  words,  which  were  fit  for  metrical 
feet. 

However  specious  these  reasons  may  appear,  they  are  certainly 
far  from  conclusive,  even  if  we  had  no  monuments  of  Saxon  Poetry 
remaining ;  but  in  the  present  case,  I  apprehend,  the  only  satis 
factory  proof  would  have  been  to  have  produced,  out  of  the  great 
heap  of  Poetical  compositions  in  the  Saxon  language,  some  regular 
metrical  verses  ;  that  is,  some  portions  of  words,  similar  to  each  other 
in  the  nature  and  order  of  their  component  syllables,  and  occur 
ring  either  in  a  continued  series,  or  at  stated  intervals  If  all  ex- 
ternal  proofs  of  the  nature  of  the  Roman  Poetry  were  lost,  a  few 
verses  of  Virgil  or  Horace  would  be  sufficient  to  convince  us,  that 
their  metres  were  regulated  by  the  quantity  of  syllables ;  and  if 
Caedmon  had  really  written  in  a  metre  regulated  by  the  quantity 
of  syllables,  a  few  of  his  lines  must  have  afforded  us  the  same  con 
viction  with  respect  to  the  general  laws  of  his  versification. 

For  my  own  part,  I  confess  myself  unable  to  discover  any  ma 
terial  distinction  of  the  Saxon  Poetry  from  Prose,  except  a  greater 
pomp  of  diction,  and  a  more  stately  kind  of  march.  Our  aqces- 
tors  affected  a  certain  pomp  of  style  in  all  their  compositions. 
Angli  (says  Malmesbury,  I.  i,  p.  13.)  pomputice  dictare  amant. 
And  this  affectation,  I  suspect,  was  the  true  cause  of  their  so  fre 
quently  inverting  the  natural  order  of  their  words,  especially  in 
Poetry.  The  obscurity  arising  from  these  inversions  had  the  ap- 


42  ESSAY  ON   THE  LANGUAGE  AND 


Conquest;  so  that  I  should  apprehend  we  must 
have  been  obliged  for  both  to  the  Normans,  who 

pearance  of  Pomp.  That  they  were  not  owing  to  the  constraint 
of  any  metrical  Laws  (as  Hickes  supposes)  may  be  presumed 
from  their  being  commonly  used  in  Prose,  and  even  in  Latin  Prose 
by  Saxon  writers.  Ethelwerd,  an  Historian  descended  in  the 
fifth  decree  from  King  Ethelred  [inter  Script,  post  Bedam,  p. 
831 — 850.],  is  full  of  them.  The  following  passage  of  his 
history,  if  literally  translated,  would  read  very  like  Saxon  Poetry. 
"  Abstrahuntur  tune  |  ferveutes  fide  |  anno  in  eodeiu  |  llibernia 
stirpe  |  tres  viri  lecti ;  |  furtim  consuunt  lembum  |  taurinis 
byrsis;  [  alimentum  sibi  |  hebdomadarium  supplent;  |  elevant 
dies  |  par  vela  septem  |  totidemque  noctes,  &c." 

We  do  not  see  any  marks  of  studied  alliteration  in  the  old  Saxon 
Poetry ;  so  that  we  might  attribute  the  introduction  of  that  prac 
tice  to  the  Danes,  if  we  were  certain,  that  it  made  a  part  of  the 
Scaldic  versification  at  the  time  of  the  Danish  settlements  in 
England. 

However  that  may  have  been,  Giraldus  Cambrensis  [Descr. 
Camb.  p.  889.]  speaks  of  Aimomina'ion,  which  he  describes  to  be 
what  we  ca'l  Alliteration,  as  the  favourite  rhetorical  figure  of  both 
the  Welsh  and  English  in  his  time.  "  Adeo  igitur  hoc  verborum 
ornatu  dua?  nationes,  Angli  scil.  et  Cambri,  in  omni  sermone  ex- 
quisito  utuntur,  ut  nihil  ab  his  eleganter  dictum,  nullum  n>si  rude 
et  agreste  censeatur  eloquium,  si  non  schematis  hnjus  1'ma  plene 
fuerit  expolitum."  It  is  plain  that  Alliteration  luust  have  had 
very  powerful  charms  for  the  ears  of  our  ancestors,  as  we  find  that 
the  Saxon  Poetry,  by  the  help  of  this  embellishment  alone,  even 
after  it  had  laid  aside  its  pompous  phraseology,  was  able  to  main 
tain  itself,  wjthout  Rime  or  Metre,  for  several  centuries.  See  Dr. 
Percy's  Essay  on  the  Metre  of  Pierce  Plowman's  Vis-ous.  Rel.  of 
autieut  Poetry,  vol.  ii. 


VERSIFICATION   OF  CHAUCER.  43 


very  early  (41)  distinguished  themselves  by  poetical 
performances  in  their  Vulgar  tongue. 

(41)  I  cannot  find  that  the  French  Antiquaries  have  been  able 
to  produce  any  Poetry,  in  any  of  the  dialects  of  their  language,  of 
an  earlier  date  than  the  Conquest  of  England,  or  indeed  than  the 
beginning  of  the  Xllth  Century.  However  we  read  of  a  Thi- 
baud  de  Vernun,  Canon  of  Rouen,  who,  before  the  year  1053, 
"  multorum  gesta  Sanctorum,  sed  et  S'>  Wandregesili,  a  sua  la- 
tinitate  transtulit,  atque  in  communis  linguae  usiuii  satis  facunde 
refudit,  ac  sic,  ad  quamfTam  tinimli  rythmi  simUitudinem,  urbanas 
ex  illis  cantilenas  edid.it.  [De  Mirac.  Sti  Vulframni.  Auctore 
Monacho  Fontanell.  temp.  Will.  I.  ap.  Dacherii  Acta  SS.  Ord. 
Ben.  t.  iii.  p.  379.]  It  is  probable  too,  that  the  "  wdgares  cantus," 
which,  according  to  Raimond  de  Agiles  [Gesta  Dei,  p.  180.], 
wore  composed  against  Arnoulph,  a  Chaplain  of  the  Duke  of 
Normandy,  in  the  first  Croitade,  were  in  the  French  language  ; 
and  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  William  IX,  Duke  of  Aquitaiu, 
upon  his  return  from  Jerusalem  in  1101,  made  use  of  his  native 
tongue,  when  "  miserias  captivitatis  sue,  ut  eratjocundas  et  lepi- 
dus,  multoticns  retulit  rythmieis  versibus  cum  facetis  modulationi- 
bus."  Ord.  Vital.  1.  x.  p.  793. 

The  History  of  the  taking  of  Jerusalem,  which  is  said  to  have 
been  written  by  ihe  Chevalier  Gregoire  Bechada,  of  Tours  in  Li 
moges,  "  maternd  lingua,  rythmo  vulgari,  ut  populus  pleniter  in- 
telligerct,"  [Labbe,  Bibl.  Nov.  t.  ii.  p.  296.]  has  not  yet  been 
brought  to  light ;  so  that  probably  the  oldest  French  Poem  of 
any  length  now  extant  is  a  translation  of  the  Bestiarius  by  Philippe 
de  Thaun,  it  being  addressed  to  Aliz  (Adeliza  of  Louvain)  the 
second  Queen  of  our  Henry  I. 

There  is  a  copy  of  this  Poem  among  the  Cotton  Mss.  Nero.  A. 
v.  The  authors  of  the  Histoire  Literaire  de  la  France,  t.  ix.  p. 
173 — 90,  suppose  it  to  have  been  written  about  1125,  that  is, 


44  ESSAY  ON  THE  LANGUAGE  AND 


The  Metres  which  they  used,  and  which  we  seem 
to  have  borrowed  from  them,  were  plainly  copied 
from  the  Latin  (42)  rythmical  verses,  which,  in  the 

thirty  years  before  Le  Brut,  which  Fauchet  had  placed  at  the 
head  of  his  list  of  French  Poems. 

I  shall  take  occasion  in  another  place  to  shew,  that  the  real  au 
thor  of  Le  Brut  was  Wace  (the  same  who  wrote  the  Roman  de 
Ron),  and  not  Wistace,  as  Fauchet  calls  him. 

(42)  The  Latin  Rythmical  verses  resembled  the  Metrical  in 
the  number  of  syllables  only,  without  any  regard  to  quantity. 
"  Anna  cano  virumque  qui  primus  Trojae  ab  oris"  would  pass  for 
a  very  good  Rythmical  Hexameter.  The  greatest  part  however 
of  these  compositions  were  in  imitation  of  the  Iambic  and  Trochaic 
metres;  and  in  them,  if  the  Accents  fell  luckil},  the  unlearned  ear 
would  often  be  as  well  pleased  as  if  the  laws  of  Quantity  were  ob 
served.  The  two  Rythmical  Hymns  quoted  by  Beda  [De  Metris, 
edit.  Putsch,  p.  2380.]  are  sufficient  to  prove  this.  The  first,  he 
observes,  "  ad  instar  lambici  metri  pulcherrimefactus  est." 

O  rex  aeterne  Domine 

Re  rum  creator  omnium  &c. 
The  other  is  "  adformam  metri  Trochaici." 

Apparebit  repentina  dies  magna  Domini 

Fur  obscura  velut  nocte  improvises  occu  pans. 
In  the  former  of  these  Hymns,  "  Domine"  to  a  modern  ear  at 
least,  sounds  as  well  as  "  nomine;"  and  in  the  latter,  "  dies"  and 
"  velut,"  being  accented  upon  their  first  Syllables,  affect  us  no 
other  wise  than  "  dices"  and  "  velum"  would  have  done. 

From  such  Latin  Rythras,  and  chiefly  those  of  the  Iambic  form 
the  present  Poetical  measures  of  all  the  nations  of  Roman  Europe 
are  clearly  derived.  Instead  of  long  and  short  Syllables,  the  Feet 
of  our  Poetry  are  composed  of  Syllables  accented  and  unaccented. 
or  rather  of  Syllables  strongly  and  less  strongly  accented ;  and 


VERSIFICATION  OF  CHAUCER.  45 


declension  of  that  language,  were  current  in  various 
forms  among1  those,  who  either  did  not  understand, 
or  did  not  regard,  the  true  quantity  of  syllables  ; 
and  the  practice  of  Riming  (43)  is  probably  to  be 

hence  it  is,  that  we  have  so  little  variety  of  Feet,  and  consequently 
of  Metres;  because  the  possible  combinations  of  Syllables  accented' 
and  unaccented  are,  from  the  nature  of  speech,  much  more  limited 
in  point  of  number,  than  the  combinations  of  long  and  short  Sylla 
bles  were  in  the  Greek  and  Latin  languages. 

(43)    We  see  evident  marks  of  a  fondness  for  Rime  in  the 
Hymns  of  S.  Ambrosius  and  S.  Damasus,  as  early  as  the  fourth 
Century.     One  of  the  Hymns  of  Damasus,  which  begins, 
"  Martyris  ecce  dies  Agathae 
Virginis  emicat  eximias"  &c. 

is  regularly  rimed  throughout.  Prudentius,  who  had  a  more 
classical  taste,  seems  studiously  to  have  avoided  Rimes  j  but  Se- 
dulius  and  Fortunatus,  in  the  fifth  and  sixth  Centuries,  use  them 
frequently  in  their  Hymns.  [See  their  works,  and  an  Hymn  of 
the  latter  ap.  Fabric.  Bib.  Med.  JE\a.t.  v.  FORTUNATUS.] 

The  learned  Muratori,  in  his  Dissertation  de  Rythmica  Veterum 
Poesi,  [Antiq.  Med.  ^Evi,  Dissert,  xl.]  has  collected  together  a 
vast  heap  of  examples,  which  prove  that  Rimes  were  very  ge 
nerally  used  in  Hymns,  Sequences,  and  other  religious  composi 
tions  in  Latin,  in  the  Vllth,  VIHth,  and  IXth  Centuries ;  so  that 
for  my  own  part  I  think  it  as  probable,  that  the  Poets  in  the  vul 
gar  languages  (who  first  appeared  about  the  IXth  Century)  bor 
rowed  their  Rimes  from  the  Latin  Poetry  of  that  age,  as  it  is  evi 
dent  that  they  did  the  forms  of  their  versification. 

Otfrid  of  Weissenberg,  the  earliest  Rimer  that  is  known  in  any 
of  the  modern  Languages,  about  the  year  870,  calls  Rime,  in  the 
style  of  the  Latin  Grammarians,  Schema  omeeoteleuton  [Praef.  ad 
Liutbert.  ap,  Schiller.  Thes.  Antiq.  Teuton,  t.  i.  p.  11.]  And 


46  ESSAT  ON  THE  LANGUAGE  AND 


deduced  from  the  same  original,  as  we  find  that 
practice  to  have  prevailed  in  Ecclesiastical  Hymns, 
and  other  compositions,  in  Latin,  some  centuries 
before  Otfrid  of  Weissenberg,  the  first  known  Ri 
mer  in  any  of  the  vulgar  European  dialects. 

§  II.  I  wish  it  were  in  my  power  to  give  a  re 
gular  history  of  the  progress  which  our  Ancestors 
made  in  this  new  style  of  versification  ;  but  (44), 

when  the  Monk,  who  has  been  cited  in  n.  41.  says,  that  Thibaud 
de  Vernuri  composed  his  Songs  "  ad  quamdam  tumuli  rythmi  simi- 
litndinem,  he  must  mean,  I  think,  that  he  composed  them  "  in 
imitation  of  [Latin]  jingling  Rythra,"  I  say,  Latin  (or  at  least  some 
foreign)  Kythm,  because  otherwise  he  would  rather  have  said  in 
rythmo  tinnulo.  The  addition  of  the  epithet  tinnulus  seems  to 
shew  plainly  enough,  that  Rythmus  alone  did  not  then  signify  what 
we  call  Rime. 

(44,)  William  of  Malmesbury  [de  gest.  Pont.  Angl.  I,  iii.  p. 
271.]  has  preserved  two  Riming  verses  of  Aldred,  Archbishop  of 
York,  which  that  Prelate  threw  out  against  one  Urse,  Sheriff  of 
Worcestershire,  not  long  after  the  Conquest.  ''  Hatest  thou  Urse 
— Have  thou  God's  curse."  "  Vocaris  Ursus — Habeas  Dei  male- 
dictionem."  Malmesbury  says,  that  he  inserts  this  English,  "  quod 
Latina  verba  non  sicut  Anglica  concinnitati  respondent."  The 
Concinnity,  1  suppose,  must  have  consisted  in  the  Rime,  and 
would  hardly  have  been  thought  worth  repeating,  if  Rime  in 
English  had  not  then  been  a  novelty. 

The  lines  in  the  Saxon  Chronicle,  to  which  I  mean  to  refer,  are 
In  p.  191.  ed.  Gibs.  The  passage  begins, 

Eaj'telaf  he  let  pyjicean. 
•jearime  men  j*prSe  ppencean — 
All  the  lines  are  not  in  Rime  ;  but  I  shall  set  down  a  few,  in 


VERSIFICATION  OF  CHAUCER.  47 


except  a  few  lines  in  the  Saxon  Chronicle  upon  the 
death  of  William  the  Conquerour,  which  seem  to 
have  been  intended  for  verses  of  the  Modern  fa 
shion,  and  a  short  Canticle,  which,  according  to 
Matthew  Paris,  (45),  the  blessed  Virgin  was  pleased 

English  characters,  which  I  think  coud  not  have  chimed  together 
so  exactly  by  mere  accident. 

Thet  he  nam  be  rihte 
And  mid  mycelan  un-rihte 
Of  his  leode 
For  littelre  neode  — 
He  saette  inycel  deor-frith, 
And  he  laigde  laga  ther  with  — 
He  forbead  tha  heortas, 
Swylce  eac  tha  baras ; 
Swa  swithe  he  lufbde  tha  hea-deor 
Swylce  he  ware  heora  feder. 
Eac  he  saette  be  tham  harau, 
That  hi  mosten  freo  faran  — 
The  concluding  lines  are. 
Se  sel-mihtiga  God 
Kithe  his  saule  mild-heortnisse 
And  do  him  his  synna  forgifenesse. 

The  writer  of  this  part  of  the  Chronicle  (as  he  tells  us  himself, 
p.  189.)  had  seen  the  Conquerour. 

(45)  Hist.  Angl.  p.  100.  Godric  died  in  1170,  so  that,  accord 
ing  to  tradition,  the  Canticle  was  prior  to  that  period.  The  first 
Stanza  being  incorrectly  printed,  I  shall  only  transcribe  the  last. — 

Seinte  Marie,  Christes  bur, 
Meidenes  clenhad,  moderes  flur, 
Dilie  mine  sennen,  rixe  in  min  mod, 
Bringe  me  to  winne  with  selfe  God. — 


48  ESSAY  ON  THE  LANGUAGE  AND 


to  dictate  to  Godric,  an  Hermite  near  Durham,  I 
have  not  been  able  to  discover  any  attempts  at 
Riming  Poetry,  which  can  with  probability  be  re 
ferred  to  an  earlier  period  than  the  reign  of  Henry 
the  second.  In  that  reign  Layamon  (46),  a  Priest 

Hoc  Canticum  (says  M.  P.)  potest  hoc  modo  in  Lutinum  trans- 
Jerri. 

Sancta  Maria,  Christi  thalamus, 

virginalis  puritas,  matrisflos, 

dele  mea  crimina,  regna  in  mente  med 

due  me  adf&licitatem  cum  solo  Deo. 

Upon  the  authority  of  this  translation  I  have  altered  pinne  (as 
it  is  in  the  print)  to  winne.  The  Saxon  p  is  often  mistaken  for 
a  p. 

(46)  This  work  of  Layaraon  is  extant  among  the  Cotton  Mss. 
Cal.  A  ix.  A  much  later  copy,  in  which  the  author,  by  a  na 
tural  corruption,  was  called  Laweman,  was  destroyed  by  the  fire. 
There  is  an  account  of  both  copies  in  Wanley's  Cat.  Mss.  Septent. 
p.  228.  and  p.  237. 

The  following  short  extract  from  fol.  7,  8.  containing  an  account 
of  the  Sirens,  which  Brutus  met  with  in  his  voyage,  will  serve  to 
support  what  is  said  in  the  text  of  this  Author's  intermixing  Rimes 
with  his  prose. 

Ther  heo  funden  the  Merminnen, 

That  beoth  deor  of  muchele  ginnen. 

Wifmen  hit  thunchet  ful  iwis, 

Bineothe  thon  gurdle  hit  thunceth  fisc, 

Theos  habbeth  swa  murie  song, 

Ne  beo  tha  dai  na  swa  long, 

Ne  bith  na  man  weri 

Heora  songes  to  heran  — 


VERSIFICATION  OF  CHAUCER.  49 


of.Ernleye  near  Severn,  as  he  calls  himself,  trans 
lated  (chiefly)  from  the  French  of  Wace  (47)  a 
fabulous  history  of  the  Britons,  entitled  "  Le 

(47)  The  French  Clerk,  whom  Layamon  professes  to  have  fol 
lowed  in  his  history,  is  called  by  Wanley  [Cat.  Ms*.  Sept.  p. 
228.]  Wate;  as  if  poor  Maistre  Wace  were  doomed  to  have  h}s 
name  perpetually  mistaken.  Fauchet,  and  a  long  string  of  French 
Antiquaries,  have  agreed  to  call  him  Wistace*  I  shall  here,  in 
justice  to  Maistre  Wace,  (for  whom  I  have  a  great  respect,  not 
only  as  a  very  antieut  but  as  a  very  ingenious  Rimer,)  state  rny 
reasons  shortly  for  believing, .  that  he  was  the  real  author  of  that 
translation  in  French  verse  of  Geffrey  of  Moniuouth's  Romance, 
which  is  commonly  called  Le  Brut. 

In  the  first  place,  his  name  is  distinctly  written  in  the  text  of 
three  Mss.  of  very  considerable  antiquity.  Two  of  them  are  in 
the  Museum,  viz  Cotton.  Vitell.  A.  x.  and  Reg.  13.  A.  xxi.  The 
third  is  at  Cambridge,  in  the  Library  of  Bt-nnet  College,  D.  58. 
In  a  fourth  Ms.  also  in  the  Museum,  Hurl,  6508.  it  is  written 
Gazce,  and  Gace,  by  a  substitution  of  G  for  W,  very  usual  in  the 
French  language. 

Secondly,  in  the  Ms.  abovementioued  of  Layamon's  history, 
Cal.  A.  ix.  if  I  may  trust  my  own  eyes,  the  name  is  Wace;  and 
not  Wate,  as  Wanley  read  it.  The  Saxon  fc  is  not  very  unlike  a  c. 
What  Layamon  has  said  further,  "  that  this  Wace  was  a  French 
Clerk,  and  presented  his  book  to  Alienor,  the  Queen  of  Henry" 
[the  Second],  agrees  perfectly  well  with  the  date  of  Le  Brut  (in 
1155,  according  to  all  the  copies)  and  with  the  account  which 
Wace  himself,  in  his  Roman  de  Ron,  has  given  of  his  attachment 
to  Henry. 

Thirdly,  in  a  subsequent  translation  of  Le  Brut,  which  was  made 
by  Robert  of  Brunne  in  the  beginning  of  the  XlVth  Century,  he 
repeatedly  names  Mayster  Wace,  as  die  autlior  (or  rather  trans- 
VOL.  I.  E 


5O  ESSAY  ON  THE  LANGUAGE  AND 


Brut,"  which  Wace  himself,  about  the  year  1155, 
had  translated  from  the  Latin  of  Geffrey  of  Mon- 
mouth.  Though  the  greatest  part  ^f  this  work  of 
Layamon  resemble  the  old  Saxon  Poetry,  without 

later  from  the  Latin)  of  the  French  History.  See  Hearne's  App. 
to  Pref.  to  Peter  Langtqft,  p.  xcviii. 

Iti  opposition  to  this  strong  evidence  in  favour  of  Wace,  we 
have  nothing  material,  except  the  Ms.  of  Le  Brut  quoted  by 
Fauchet  [de  le  Langue  Fran$oise,  I.  ii.]f  in  which,  according  to  his 
citation,  the  author  is  called  Wistace.  The  later  French  writers, 
who  have  called  him  so,  I  apprehend,  have  only  followed  Fauchet. 
The  Reader  will  judge,  whether  it  is  not  more  probable,  that  the 
writer  of  the  Ms.  or  even  Fauchet  himself,  may  have  made  a  little 
slip  in  this  matter,  than  that  so  many  Mss.  as  I  have  quoted  above, 
and  the  successive  testimonies  of  LAYAMON  and  ROBERT  OF 
BRUNNE,  should  have  concurred  in  calling  the  author  of  Le  Brut 
WACE,  if  that  had  not  been  his  true  name. 

I  will  just  add,  that  La  vie  de  Seint  Nicholas,  which  is  frequently 
quoted  by  Hickes  [Gr.  A.  S.  p.  146.  149,  &  al.],  was  probably  a 
work  of  this  same  Wace,  as  appears  from  the  following  passage. 
[Ms.  Bodl.  1687.  v.  17.  from  the  end.] 
Ci  faut  le  livre  mestre  Guace, 
Qil  ad  de  Seint  Nicholas  fait, 
De  Latin  en  Romaunz  estreit 
A  Osberd  le  fiz  Thiout, 
Qui  Seint  Nicholas  raout  amout. — 

And  I  should  suspect,  that  Le  Martyre  de  St.  George  en  vers 
Francois  par  Robert  Guaco,  mentioned  by  M.  Lebeuf  as  extant  in 
the  Bibl.  Colbert.  Cod.  3745  [Mem.  de  1'Acad.  D.  J.  &  B.  L.  r. 
xvii.  p.  731.]  ought  to  be  ascribed  to  the  same  author,  as  Guaco 
is  a  very  strange  name.  The  Christian  name  of  Wace  was  Robert. 
See  Huet,  Orig.  de  Caen,  p.  412. 


VEttSIFICATION  OF  CHAUCER.  51 


Rime  or  metre,  yet  he  often  intermixes  a  number 
of  short  verses,  of  unequal  lengths  but  riming  to 
gether  pretty  exactly,  and  in  some  places  he  has 
imitated  not  unsuccessfully  the  regular  octosyllable 
measure  of  his  French  original. 

§  III.  It  may  seem  extraordinary,  after  these 
proofs  that  the  art  of  Riming  was  not  unknown  or 
unpractised  in  this  country  in  the  time  of  Henry  II, 
that  we  should  be  obliged  to  search  through  a  space 
of  above  an  hundred  years,  without  being  able  to 
meet  with  a  single  maker  of  English  Rimes,  whom 
we  know  to  have  written  in  that  interval.  The 
case  I  suspect  to  have  been  this.  The  Scholars  of 
that  age  (and  there  were  many  who  might  fairly  be 
called  so,  in  the  English  dominions  abroad  (48)  as 
well  as  at  home)  affected  to  write  only  (49)  in  La- 

(48)  The  following  passage  of  Roger  de  Hoveden  [p.  672.] 
gives  a  striking  description  of  the  extent  of  the  English  dominions 
in  the  time  ot  Richard  I.  Sciendum  est  quod  tola  terra,  quee  est  ab 
Anglia  usque  in  Hispaniam,  secus  mare,  videlicet  Normannia,  Bri 
tannia,   Pictavia,  est   de  dominio  Regis   Angliee.     The  Kings  of 
France  at  that  time  were  not  possessed  of  an  inch  of  territory  upon 
the  coasts  ol  the  Ocean. 

(49)  It  will  be  sufficient  to  name  John  of  Salisbury,  Peter  of 
Blois,  Joseph  of  Exeter,  Gerald  Barry,  Nigell  Wireker,  Geffrey 
Vinsauf.     I  should  add  to  this  list  Walter  Map,  if  there  were  not 
a  tradition,  not  entirely  destitute  of  probability,  that  he  was  the 
author  of  the  Roman  de  Saint  Graal  in  French.     I  find  this  in  an 


ESSAY  ON  THE  LANGUAGE 


tin,  so  that  we  do  not  find  that  they  ever  composed, 
in  verse  or  prose,  in  any  other  language.  On  the 
other  hand  they,  who  meant  to  recommend  them 
selves  by  their  Poetry  to  the  favour  of  the  great, 
took  care  to  write  in  French,  the  only  language 
which  their  patrons  understood ;  and  hence  it  is, 
that  we  see  so  many  French  poems  (5O),  about  that 

old  Ms.  of  Tristan,  Bib.  Reg.  20.  D.  ii.  p.  antep.  Quant  Boort 
ot  conte  laventure  del  Saint  Graal,  teles  come  eles  estoient  avenues, 
eles  furent  mises  en  escrit,  gardees  en  lamere  de  Salibieres  dont 
Mestre  Gatiier  Map  'strest  a  faire  son  lime  du  Saint  Graal,  par 
lanurr  du  roy  Herri  son  sengnor,  qui  fat  lestoric  tralater  del  Latin 
en  Romans.  The  adventure  of  the  Saint  Graal  is  plainly  written 
upon  a  very  different  plan  from  the  other  Romances  of  the  Round 
Table,  and' is  likely  enough  to  have  come  from  an  Ecclesiaslick, 
though  rather,  I  confess,  from  a  graver  one  than  Walter  Map  may 
be  supposed  to  have  been.  The  French  Romance,  from  which 
our  Romance  called  "  Mart  df  Arthur"  is  translated,  seems  to  be 
an  injudicious  jumble  of  Le  Brut,  Lancelot,  Tristan,  the  Saint 
Graal,  and  some  other  Romances  of  less  note,  which  were  all,  I 
apprehend,  originally  separate  works. 

(50)  Le  Bestiaire,  by  Philippe  de  Thatm,  addressed  to  Queen 
Adelisa;  Le  Brut  arid  Le  Roman  de  Rou,  by  Wace,  have  been 
mentioned  above.  Besides-  the  Roman  de  Rou,  there  is  another 
Chronicle  of  Normandy  in  French  verse  by  Maitre  Beneit,  com 
piled  by  order  of  Henry  II.  Ms.  Harl.  1717.  The  same  Beneit 
was,  perhaps,  the  author  of  the  Vie  de  St.  Thomas,  Ms.  Harl. 
3775.  though  he  there  calls  himself 

"  Frere  Beneit,  le  pecheour, 

"  ove  les  weirs  dros"- — 
At  the  end  of  a  copy  of  Le  Brut,  Bib.  Reg.  13  A.  xxi.  there  is  a 


VERSIFICATION  OF  CHAUCER. 


time,  either  addressed  directly  to  the  principal  per 
sons  at  the  English  court,  or  at  least  written  on 
such  subjects  as  we  may  suppose  to  have  been 
.most  likely  to  engage  their  attention.  Whatever 
therefore  of  English  Poetry  was  produced,  in  this 
infancy  of  the  art,  being  probably  the  work  of  illi 
terate  authors  and  circulating  only  among  the  vul 
gar  (51),  we  need  not  be  much  surprised  that  no 
more  of  it  has  been  transmitted  down  to  posterity. 

Continuation  of  the  History  to  the  death  of  William  II,  in  the 
same  Metre,  by  a  Geffrei  Gaimar,  which  escaped  the  observation 
.of  Mr.  Casley ;  and  at  the  end  of  another  copy,  Vitell.  A.  x.  the 
History  is  continued  by  an  anonymous  author  to  the  accession  of 
King  John. 

.  Richard. I.  composed  himself  in  French.  A  specimen  of  his 
Poetry  has  been  published  by  Mr.  Walpole,  Cat.  of  Royal  Au- 
.thors,  v.  i.  And  his  Chancellor,  William  Bishop  of  Ely  (who,  as 
has  been  observed  before,  "  was  totally  ignorant  of  the  English 
language"),  was  by  no  means  behindhand  with  his  Master  in  his 
encouragement  of  French  Poets  ;  for  of  this  Bishop  the  passage  in 
Hoyeden  is  to  be  understood,  which  Mr.  Walpole  has  applied  to 
ihe  King  himself.  It  is  part  of  a  letter  of  Hugh  Bishop  of  Co 
ventry,  who,  speaking  of  the  Bishop  of  Ely,  says,  that  HE,  "ad 
augmentum  et  famam  sui  nominis,  emendicata  carmina  et  rythmos 
adulatorios  comparabat,  et  de  re^no  Francorum  cantores  et  jocula- 
tores  muneribus  allexerat,  ut  de  illo  canerent  in  plateis  ;  etjamdice- 
batur  ubique,  quod  turn  erat  talis  in  orbe"  Hoveden,  p.  103. 

(51)  To  these  causes  we  may  probably  impute  the  loss  of  those 
Songs  upon  Hereward  (the  last  perhaps  of  the  Saxon  heroes), 
.which  according  to  Ingulphus,  "  were  sung  about  the  streets"  in 


64  ESSAY  ON  THE  LANGUAGE  AND 


§  IV.  The  learned  Hickes  however  has  pointed 
out  to  us  two  very  curious  pieces,  which  may  with 
probability  be  referred  to  this  period.  The  first  of 
them  is  a  Paraphrase  of  the  Gospel  Histories,  en 
titled  Ormulum  (52),  by  one  Orm,  or  Ormin.  It 

his  time.  Hist.  Croyl.  p.  68.  Robert  of  Brunne  also  mentions 
"  a  Rime"  concerning  Gryme  the  Fisher,  the  founder  of  Gry  mes 
hy  ^  Hanelok  the  Dane ;  and  his  wife  Goldeburgh,  daughter  to  a 
King  Athelwold  ;  who  all  now,  together  with  their  bard, 

—  illacryniabiles 

Urgentur  ignotique  longa 

Nocte  — 

See  Translation  of  Peter  of  Langtoft,  p  25.  and  Camden's  Brit, 
p.  569. 

(52)  The  Ormulum  seems  to  be  placed  by  Hickes  among  the 
first  writings  after  the  Conquest  [Gram.  Ang.  Sax.  c.  xxii.  p, 
16*5.],  but,  1  confess,  I  cannot  conceive  it  to  have  been  earlier  than 
the  reign  of  Henry  II.  There  is  a  peculiarity  in  the  author's  or 
thography,  which  consists  in  doubling  the  Consonants;  e.  g. 
brother,  he  writes,  brotherr  ;  after,  affterr  &c.  He  has  done  this 
by  design,  and  charges  those  who  shall  copy  his  book  to  be  very 
careful  to  write  those  letters  twice,  which  he  has  written  so,  as 
otherwise,  he  assures  them,  "  they  will  not  write  the  word  right." 
Hickes  has  taken  notice  of  this  peculiarity,  but  has  not  attempted 
to  explain  the  author's  reasons  for  it ;  and  indeed,  without  a  more 
perfect  knowledge  than  we  now  probably  can  have  of  the  Saxon 
pronunciation,  they  seem  totally  inexplicable.  In  the  few  lines, 
which  I  think  it  necessary  to  quote  here  as  a  specimen  of  the 
Metre,  I  shall  venture  (first  begging  Ormin's  pardon  for  disregard 
ing  his  injunction)  to  leave  out  the  superfluous  letters,  and  I  shall 
also  for  my  own  ease  as  well  as  that  of  the  reader  transcribe  them 


VERSIFICATION  OF  CHAUCER.  55 


seems  to  have  been  considered  as  mere  Prose  by 
Hickes  and  by  Wanley,'  who  have  both  given  large 
extracts  from  it ;  but,  I  apprehend,  every  reader, 
who  has  an  ear  for  metre,  will  easily  perceive  that 
it  is  written  very  exactly  in  verses  of  fifteen  sylla 
bles,  without  Rime,  in  imitation  of  the  most  com 
mon  species  of  the  Latin  Tetrameter  Iambic.  The 

in  modern  characters.     The   first  lines  of  Wanley's  extract  from 

Ms.  Bod.  Junius.  1.  [Cat.  Codd.  Mss.  Septent.  p.  59.]  will  answer 

my  purpose  as  well  as  any  other. 

Nu,  brother  Walter,  brother  min  after  the  fleshes  kinde, 

And  brother  min  i  Cristendom  thurh  fulluht  and  thurh  trowthe, 

And  brother  min  i  Godes  hus  yet  o  the  thride  wise, 

Thurh  that  wit  hafen  taken  ba  an  reghel  hoc  to  folghen 

Under  kanunkes-had  and  lif  swa  sum  Sant  Awstin  sette, 

Ic  hafe  don  swa  sum  thu  bad,  andforbed  a  te  thin  wille, 

Ic  hafe  wend  intil  English  godspelles  halighe  lare, 

After  that  little  wit  that  me  min  Drihten  hafeth  lened  — 

The  reader  will  observe,  that,  in  calling  these  verses  of  fifteen 

syllables,  I  consider  the  words — kinde,  trowthe,  wise,  sette,  wille, 

lare — as  dissyllables. 
The  laws  of  Metre  require  that  they  should  be  so  considered,  as 

much  as  folghen  and  lened :  and  for  the  same  reason  thride  in  ver. 

3.  and  hafe  in  ver.  5  and  6,  are  to  be  pronounced  as  consisting  of 

two  syllables. 
It  is  the  more  extraordinary  that  neither  Hickes  nor  Wanley 

should  have  perceived  that  Ormin  wrote  in  Metre,  as  he  himself, 

mentions  his  having  added  words  for  the  sake  of  filling  his  Rime 

or  Verse,  for  he  calls  it  by  both  those  names  in  the  following 

passages : 

»  1  .forthed.  Ms. 


other  piece  (53),  which  is  a  moral  Poem  upon  oM 
age,  &c.  is  in  Rime,  and  in  a  metre  much  resemb 
ling  the  former,  except  that  the  verse  of  fifteen 
syllables  is  broken  into  two,  of  which  the  first 
should  regularly  contain  eight  and  the  second  seven- 
syllables  ;  but  the  metre  is  not  so  exactly  observed 
(at  least  in  the  copy  which  Hickes  has  followed)  as 
it  is  in  the  Ormulum. 

§  V.  In  the  next  interval,  from  the  latter  end  of 
the  reign  of  Henry  III  to  the  middle  of  the  four- 

Ic  hafe  sett  her  o  this  boc  among  Godspelles  wordes 
All  thurh  me  selfen  manig  word,  the  Rime  swa  iojillen  — 
And  again, 

And  ic  lie  mihte  noht  mincers  ay  with  Godspelles  wordes 

WelJiUen  all,  and  all  forthi  sholde  ic  wel  ofte  nede 

Among  Godspelles  wordes  don  rain  word,  mincer*  tojillen — 

It  is  scarce  necessary  to  remark,  that  Rime  is  here  to  be  under 
stood  in  its  original  sense,  as  denoting  the  whole  verse,  and  not 
merely  the  consonancy  of  the  final  syllables.  In  the  second  quo 
tation  fers,  or  verse,  is  substituted  for  it  as  a  synonymous  term. 
Indeed  I  doubt  whether,  in  the  time  of  Ormin,  the  word  Rime  was, 
in  any  language,  used  singly  to  convey  the  idea  of  Consonant  ter 
minations. 

(53)  A  large  extract  from  this  Poem  has  been  printed  by  Hickea 
[Gram.  Ang.  Sax.  c.  xxiv.  p.  222.],  but  evidently  from  very  incor- 
tect  Mss.  It  begins  thus : 

Ic  am  nu  elder  thanne  ic  wes 

A  wintre  and  ec  a  lore  ; 
Ic  ealdi  more  thanne  ic  dede, 
Mi  wit  oghte  to  bi  more. 


VERSIFICATION  OP  CHAUCER. 


teenth  century,  when  we  may  suppose  Chaucer  was 
beginning  to  write,  the  number  of  English  Rimers 
seems  to  have  increased  very  much.  Besides  se 
veral,  whose  names  we  know  (54),  it  is  probable 
that  a  great  part  of  the  anonymous  Authors,  or 

(54)  Robert  of  Gloucester  and  Robert  of  Brunne  have  been 
mentioned  already. 

To  these  may  be  added  Richard  Rolle,  the  hennite  of  Hani* 
pole,  who  died  in  1349,  after  having  composed  a  large  quantity  of 
English  rimes.  See  Tanner,  Bib.  Brit.  Art.  HAMPOLE. — 
Laurence  Minot,  who  has  left  a  collection  of  Poems  upon  the  prin 
cipal  events  of  the  former  part  of  the  reign  of  Edward  III.  Ms. 
Cotton.  GalbaE.ix. — Within  the  same  period  flourished  the  two 
Poets,  who  are  mentioned  with  great  commendations  by  Robert  of 
Brunne  [App.  to  Pref.  to  Peter  Langt.  p.  xcix.]  under  the  names 
"  Of  Erceldoun  and  of  Kendale."  We  h:ive  no  memorial,  that  I 
know,  remaining  of  the  latter,  besides  this  passage  ;  but  the  former 
I  take  to  have  been  the  famous  Thomas  Leirmouth,  of  Ercildoun 
(of  Ersilton,  as  it  is  now  called,  in  the  shire  of  Merch),  who  lived 
in  the  time  of  Edward  I,  and  is  generally  distinguished  by  the 
honourable  addition  of  "  The  Rhymour."  As  the  learned  Editor 
of"  Ancient  Scottish  Poems,  Edinburgh,  1770,"  has,  for  irrefraga 
ble  reasons,  deprived  this  Thomas  of  a  Prophecy  in  verse,  which 
had  usually  been  ascribed  to  him,  [see  Mackenzie,  Art.  THOMAS- 
RHYMOUR,]  I  am  inclined  to  make  him  some  amends  by  at 
tributing  to  him  a  Romance  of  "  Sir  Tristrem;"  of  which  Ro 
bert  of  Brunne,  an  excellent  judge  !  [in  the  place  above  citedj 
says, 

Over  gestes  it  has  th'  esteem, 

Over  all  that  is  or  was, 

If  men  it  sayd  as  made  THOMAS. 


58  ESSXY  ON  THE  LANGUAGE  AND 


rather   Translators   (55),   of   the   popular  Poems, 
which  (from  their  having  been  originally  written  in 

(55)  See  Dr.  Percy's  curious  Catalogue  of  English  Metrical 
Romances,  prefixed  to  the  third  Volume  of  Reliques  of  ancient 
Poesy*  I  am  inclined  to  believe  that  we  have  no  English  Ro 
mance,  prior  to  the  age  of  Chaucer,  which  is  not  a  translation  or 
imitation  of  some  earlier  French  Romance.  The  principal  of 
those,  which,  being  built  upon  English  stories,  bid  the  fairest  for 
having  been  originally  composed  in  English,  are  also  extant  in 
French.  A  considerable  fragment  of  Hornchild  (or  Dan  Horn  as 
he  is  there  called)  is  to  be  found  in  French  Alexandrines  in  Ms. 
Hurl.  527.  The  first  part  of  Guy  of  Warwick  is  in  French,  in  the 
octosyllable  metre,  in  Ms.  Harl.  3775.  and  the  last  part  in  the 
same  language  and  metre  in  IUs.  Bib.  Reg.  8.  F.  ix.  How  much 
may  be  wanting  I  have  not  had  opportunity  to  examine.  I  have 
never  seen  Bevis  in  French ;  but  Du  Fresnoy,  in  his  Biblioth.  des 
Romans,  t.  ii.  p.  241.  mentions  a  Ms.  of  Le  Roman  de  Beuvet  de 
Hautonne,  and  another  of  Le  Roman  de  Beuves  ct  Rosiane,  en 
Rime ;  and  the  Italians,  who  were  certainly  more  likely  to  bor 
row  from  the  French  than  from  the  English  language,  had  got 
among  them  a  Romance  di  Buovo  d'Antona  before  the  year  1348. 
Quadrio,  S  tori  a  della  Poesia,  t.  vi.  p.  542. 

However,  I  think  it  extremely  probable  that  these  three  Ro 
mances,  though  originally  written  in  French,  were  composed  in 
England ;  and  perhaps  by  Englishmen,  for  we  find  that  the  ge 
neral  currency  of  the  French  language  here  engaged  several  of 
our  own  countrymen  to  use  it  in  their  compositions.  Peter  of 
Langtoft  may  be  reckoned  a  dubious  instance,  as  he  is  said  by 
some  to  have  been  a  Frenchman ;  but  Robert  Grosseteste,  the 
famous  Bishop  of  Lincoln  in  the  time  of  Henry  III,  was  a  native 
of  Suffolk,  and  yet  he  wrote  his  Chasteau  d' Amours,  and  his  Ma 
nuel  des  Pechees  in  French.  [Tanner's  Bib.  Brit,  and  Hearne's 


VERSIFICATION   OF  CHAUCER.  59 


the  Roman,  or  French,  language)  were  called  Ro 
mances,  flourished  about  this  time.     It  is   unne- 

Pref.  to  Rob.  of  Gloucester,  p.  Iviii.] — There  is  a  translation  of 
Cato  in  French  verse  by  Helis  de  Guincestre,  i.  e.  Winchester,  Ms. 
Harl.  4388.  and  a  Romance  also  in  French  verse,  which  I  sup 
pose  to  be  the  original  of  the  English  Ipomedon  [Percy's  Cat.  n. 
22.],  by  Hue  de  Hotelande,  is  to  be  found  in  Ms.  Cotton.  Vesp. 
A.  vii. — A  French  Dialogue  in  verse,  Ms.  Bod.  3904.  entitled, 
"  La  pleinte  par  entre  mis  Sire  Henry  de  Lacy  Counte  de  Nichole 
"  et  Sire  Wauter  de  Bybelesworth  pur  la  croiscrie  en  la  terre 
Seinte,"  was  most  probably  composed  by  the  latter,  who  has  also 
left  us  another  work  in  French  prose.  [See  his  article  in  Tanner, 
Bibl.  Brit.] — Even  as  late  as  the  time  of  Chaucer,  Gower  wrote 
his  Speculum  meditantis  in  French,  but  whether  in  verse  or  prose 
is  uncertain.  John  Stowe,  who  was  a  diligent  searcher  after  Mss. 
had  never  seen  this  work  [Annals,  p.  326  ]  :  nor  does  either  Bale 
or  Pits  set  down  the  beginning  of  it,  as  ihey  generally  do  of  the 
books  which  they  have  had  in  their  hands.  However,  one  French 
Poem  of  Gowei°s  has  been  preserved.  In  Ms.  Harl.  3869.  it  is 
connected  with  the  Confessio  Amantis  by  the  following  rubric  : 
"  Puisqu'il  ad  dit  cidevant  en  Englois  par  voie  d'essample  la  sotie 
de  cellui  qui  par  amours  aime  par  especial,  dirra  ore  apres  en 
Francois  a  tout  le  monde  en  general  une  traitie  selonc  les  auctours, 
pour  essampler  les  amants  marriez,  au  fin  q'ils  la  foi  de  leurs  seints 
espousailles  pourront  par  fine  loialte  guarder,  et  al  honeur  de  dieu 
salvement  tenir."  Pr.  Le  creatour  de  toute  creature.  It  contains 
LV  Stanzas  of  7  verses  each,  in  the  last  of  which  is  the  following 
apology  for  the  language  : 

"  Al'  universite  de  tout  le  monde 

Johan  Gower  ceste  Balade  envoie, 

Et  si  jeo  nai  de  Francois  la  faconde, 

Pardonetz  moi  qe  jeo  de  ceo  forsvoie ; 


60 


cessary  to  enter  into  particulars  here  concerning 
.any  of  them,  as  they  do  not  appear  to  have  in 
vented,  or  imported  from  abroad,  any  new  modes 
of  Versification,  by  which  the  Art  coud  be  at  all 
advanced  (56),  or  even  to  have  improved  those 

Jeo  suis  Englois,  si  quier  par  tide  voie 

Estrc  excuse ." 

Chaucer  himself  seems  to  have  had  no  great  opinion  of  the  perfor 
mances  of  his  countrymen  in  French.  [Prol.  to  Test,  of  Love,  ed. 
1542.]  "  Certes  (says  he)  there  ben  some  that  speke  theyr  poysy 
mater  in  Frenche,  of  whyche  speche  the  Frenche  men  have  as 
good  a  fantasye,  as  we  have  in  hearing  of  French  mennes  En- 
glyshe."  And  he  afterwards  concludes  with  his  usual  good  sense. 
•'  Let  then  Clerkes  endyten  in  Latyn,  for  they  have  the  propertye 
of  science  and  the  knowinge  in  that  facultye ;  and  lette  French 
men  in  theyr  Frenche  also  endyte  theyr  queynt  termes,  for  it  is 
kyndly  to  theyr  mouthes ;  and  let  us  shewe  our  fantasyes  in  suche 
wordes  as  we  lerneden  of  our  dames  tonge." 

(56)  It  was  necessary  to  qualify  the  assertion,  that  the  Rimers 
of  this  period  "  did  not  invent  or  import  from  abroad  any  new 
modes  of  Versification,"  as,  in  fact,  Robert  of  Brunue  (in  the  pas 
sage  referred  to  in  11.  54.)  has  mentioned  three  or  four  sorts  of 
verse,  different  from  any  which  we  have  hitherto  met  with,  and 
which  appear  to  have  been  much  cultivated  (if  not  introduced)  by 
the  writers  who  nourished  a  little  before  himself.  He  calls  them 
Couwee,  Strangere,  Enterlace,  and  Boston.  Mr.  Bridges,  in  a  sen 
sible  letter  to  Thomas  Hearne  [App.  to  Pref.  to  Peter  Langt.  p. 
ciii.],  pointed  out  these  terms  as  particularly  "  needing  an  ex 
planation;"  but  Thomas  chose  rather  to  stuff  his  book  with  ac 
counts  of  the  Nunnery  at  Little  Gidding,  &c.  which  cost  him  only 
the  labour  of  transcribing.  There  can  be  little  doubt,  I  think, 
that  the  Rimes  called  Couwee  and  Enterlace'e  were  derived  from 


VERSIFICATION  OF  CHAUCER.  61 


which  were  before  in  use.  On  the  contrary,  as 
their  works  were  intended  for  the  ear  more  than  for 
the  eye,  to  be  recited  rather  than  read,  they  were 
apt  to  be  more  attentive  to  their  Rimes  than  to  the 

the  Versus  Caudati  and  Interlaqueati  of  the  Latin  Rimers  of  that 
age.    Though  Robert  of  Brunne  in  his  Prologue  professes  not  to 
attempt  these  elegancies  of  composition,  yet  he  has  intermixed  se 
veral  passages  in  Rime  Couwie ;  [See  p.  266.  273,  6,  7,  8,  9,  & 
a!.]  and  almost  all  the  latter  part  of  his  work  from  the  Conquest  is 
written  in  Rime  Enterlacte,  each  couplet  riming  in  the  middle  as 
well  as  at  the  end.     [This  was  the  nature  of  the  Versus  interla- 
queati,  according  to'  the  following  specimen,  Ms.  Harl.  1002. 
Plausus  Grecorum  |  lux  cecis  et  via  claudis  | 
Incola  celorum  |  virgo  dignissima  laudis  | 

I  cannot  pretend  to  define  the  exact  form  of  tlie  Rime  called  Bos 
ton,  but  I  dare  say  it  received  its  appellation  from  the  Carmelite, 
Robert  Boston,  a  celebrated  Latin  Rimer  in  the  reigns  of  Edward 
I  and  II.  [See  Tanner,  Bibl.  Brit,  in  v.  and  Hearne's  Pref.  to  For- 
dun,  p.  ccxxvi.  et  seq.]  His  verses  upon  the  battle  of  Bannock- 
burn,  in  1313,  are  printed  in  the  Appendix  to  Fordun,  p.  1570; 
They  afford  instances  of  all  the  whimsical  combinations  of  Rimes 
which  can  well  be  conceived  to  find  a  place  in  the  Lathi  heroic 
metre. 

As  to  Rime  Strangere,  I  suspect  (upon  considering  the  whoie 
passage  in  Robert  of  Brunne)  that  it  was  rather  a  general  name, 
including  all  sorts  of  uncommon  Rimes,  than  appropriated  to  any 
particular  species. 

Upon  the  whole,  if  this  account  of  these  new  modes  of  Versi 
fication  shall  be  allowed  to  be  any  thing  like  the  truth,  I  hope  I 
shall  be  thought  justified  in  having  added,  "  that  the  Art  coud  not 
Jbe  at  all  advanced  by  them." 


63  ESSAY  ON  THE  LANGUAGE  AND 


exactness  of  their  Metres,  from  a  presumption,  1 
suppose,  that  the  defect,  or  redundance,  of  a  sylla 
ble  might  be  easily  covered  in  the  recitation,  es 
pecially  if  accompanied,  as  it  often  was,  by  some 
musical  instrument. 

§  VI.  Such  was,  in  general,  the  state  of  English 
Poetry  at  the  time  when  Chaucer  probably  made 
his  first  essays.  The  use  of  Rime  was  established  ; 
not  exclusively  (for  the  Author  of  the  "  Visions  of 
Pierce  Ploughman"  wrote  after  the  year  1350  (57) 

(57)  This  is  plain  from  fol.  68.  edit.  1550.  where  the  year 
3  350  is  named,  as  a  year  of  great  scarcity.  Indeed,  from  the 
mention  of  the  Kitten  in  the  tale  of  the  Rattons,  fol.  iii.  iiii.  I 
should  suspect  that  the  author  wrote  at  the  very  end  of  the  reign 
of  Edward  III,  when  Richard  was  become  heir  apparent. 

The  Visions  of  (i.  e.  concerning)  Pierce  Ploughman  are  ge 
nerally  ascribed  to  one  Robert  Langland ;  but  the  best  Mss.  that 
I  have  seen,  make  the  Christian  name  of  the  author  William,  with 
out  mentioning  his  surname.  So  in  Ms.  Cotton.  Vesp.  B.  xvi.  at 
the  end  of  p.  1.  is  this  rubric.  "  Hie  incipit  secundus  passus  de 
visione  Willelmi  de  Petro  Plouhman."  And  in  ver.  5  of  p.  2.  in 
stead  of,  "  And  sayde ;  sonne,  slepest  thou  ?"  The  Ms.  has, 
"  And  sayde;  Wille,  slepest  thou?"  See  also  the  account  of  Ms. 
Harl.  2376.  in  the  Harleian  Catalogue. 

I  cannot  help  observing,  that  these  Visions  have  been  printed 
from  so  faulty  and  imperfect  a  Ms.  that  the  Author,  whoever  he 
was,  would  find  it  difficult  to  recognize  his  own  work.  However, 
the  judgement  of  the  learned  Doctors,  Hickes  and  Percy,  [Gram. 
A.  S.  p.  217. — Rel.  of  Anc.  Poet.  v.  ii.  p.  260.]  with  respect  to 
the  laws  of  his  versification,  is  confirmed  by  the  Mss.  Each  of  his 


VERSIFICATION  OF  CHAUCER.  63 


without  Rime),  but  very  generally  ;  so  that  in  this 
respect  he  had  little  to  do  but  to  imitate  his  pre 
decessors.  The  Metrical  part  of  our  Poetry  was 
capable  of  more  improvement,  by  the  polishing  of 
the  measures  already  in  use  as  well  as  by  the  in 
troducing  of  new  modes  of  versification  ;  and  how 
far  Chaucer  actually  contributed  to  the  improvement 
of  it,  in  both  or  either  of  these  particulars,  we  are 
now  to  consider. 

§  VII.  With  respect  to  the  regular  Metres  then 

verses  is  In  fact  a  distich,  composed  of  two  verses,  after  the  Saxon 
form,  without  Rime,  and  not  reducible  to  any  certain  Metre.  I 
do  not  mean  to  say,  that  a  few  of  his  verses  may  not  be  picked 
out,  consisting  of  fourteen  and  fifteen  syllables,  and  resembling 
the  metre  used  in  the  Ormulum  ,•  and  there  are  still  more  of 
twelve  and  thirteen  syllables,  which  might  pass  for  very  tolerable 
Alexandrines :  but  then,  on  the  other  hand,  there  is  a  great  num 
ber  of  his  verses  (warranted  for  genuine  by  the  best  Mss.)  which 
cannot,  by  any  mode  of  pronunciation,  be  extended  beyond  nine 
or  ten  syllables ;  so  that  it  is  impossible  to  imagine,  that  his  verse 
was  intended  to  consist  of  any  determinate  number  of  syllables.  It 
is  as  clear  that  his  Accents,  upon  which  the  harmony  of  modern 
Hythms  depends,  are  not  disposed  according  to  any  regular  sys 
tem.  The  first  division  of  a  verse  is  often  Trochaic,  and  the  last 
Iambic;  and  vice  versd.  The  only  rule,  which  he  seems  really  to 
have  prescribed  to  himself,  is  what  has  been  taken  notice  of  by  his 
first  Editor,  viz.  "  to  have  three  wordes  at  the  leaste  in  every 
verse  whiche  beginne  with  some  one  letter."  Crowley's  Pref.  to 
Edit.  1550. 


64  ESSAY  ON  THE  LANGUAGE  AND 


in  use,  they  may  be  reduced,    I  think,   to  four. 
First,  the  long  Iambic  Metre  (58),  consisting  of  not 

(58)  The  most  perfect  example  of  this  metre  has  been  given 
above,  n.  52,  from  the  Ormulum,  Each  verse  is  composed  of 
fifteen  syllables,  and  broken  by  a  Ceesura  at  the  eighth,  which 
always  terminates  a  word.  The  accents  are  so  disposed  upon  the 
even  syllables,  particularly  the  eighth  and  fourteenth,  as  to  pro 
duce  the  true  Iambic  Cadence. 

The  learned  reader  will  recollect,  that  the  Political  verses  (as 
they  are  called)  of  Tzetzes,  and  others,  who  wrote  when  the  Greek 
versification  was  become  Ry  thmical  instead  of  Metrical,  are  chiefly 
of  this  form.  [See  Du  Cange,  v.  POLITICI  VERSUS.]  And  it  is 
remarkable,  that,  about  the  time  of  our  Orm,  Ciullo  d'Alcamo,  a 
Poet  of  Sicily,  where  the  Greek  was  still  a  living  language, 
[Montf.  Palasog.  Gr.  1.  vi.]  made  use  of  these  verses  of  fifteen 
syllables,  intermixed  with  Hendecasyllables,  in  the  only  produc 
tion  of  his  which  has  been  preserved.  [Raccolta  dell'  Allacci,  p. 
408 — 16.]  The  first  Stanza  is  quoted  by  Crescimbeni,  [Istor.  d. 
V.  P.  1.  i.  p  3.]  who  however  labours  very  much  to  persuade  us 
that  the  verses  in  question  ought  not  to  be  considered  as  verses 
of  fifteen  syllables,  but  as  containing  each  of  them  two  verses, 
the  one  of  eight  and  the  other  of  seven  syllables.  If  this  were  al 
lowed,  the  nature  of  the  verse  would  not  be  altered  :  [See  before, 
p.  67.]  but  the  supposition  is  highly  improbable,  as  by  that  dis 
tribution  there  would  be  three  verses  in  each  Stanza  not  riming.  In 
what  follows,  Crescimbeni  shews  very  plainly  that  he  had  not  ad 
verted  to  the  real  nature  of  Ciullo's  measure,  for  he  compares  it 
with  the  noted  tetrameter,  "  Gallias  Caesar  subegit,  Nicomedes 
Caesarem,"  which  is  a  Trochaic,  whereas  these  verses  of  Ciullo  are 
evidently  Iambics,  like  those  of  Orm. 

I  suspect,  that,  if  we  coud  recover  the  genuine  text  of  Robert 
of  Gloucester,  he  would  be  found  to  have  written  in  this  Metre. 


VERSIFICATION  OF  CHAUCER.  65 


more  than  fifteen,  nor  less  than  fourteen  syllables, 
and  broken  by  Ccesura  at  the  eighth  syllable.  Se 
condly,  the  Alexandrin  Metre  (59),  consisting  of  not 

It  was  used  by  Warner,  in  his  Albions  England  (another  Chro 
nicle  in  verse)  in  the  latter  of  Q.  Elizabeth's  reign  ;  and  Gascoigne 
about  the  same  time  [Instruction  concerning  the  making  of  verse  in 
Eng.  Signature  U  ii.]  speaks  of  the  couplet,  consisting  of  one 
verse  of  twelve  and  another  of  fourteen  syllables,  as  the  commonest 
sort  of  verse  then  in  use.  It  may  be  proper  to  observe,  that  the 
metre,  which  Gascoigne  calls  a  verse  of  fourteen  syllables,  is  exactly 
the  same  with  what  is  called  above  a  verse  of  fifteen  syllables ; 
just  as  the  French  Alexandrin  may  be  composed  indifferently  of 
twelve  or  thirteen  syllables,  and  the  Italian  Hendecasyllable  of 
ten,  eleven,  or  even  twelve.  The  general  rule  in  all  these  kinds 
of  verse  is,  that,  when  they  consist  of  the  greater  number  of 
syllables,  the  superfluous  syllables,  as  they  may  be  called,  are 
never  accented. 

(59)  Robert  of  Brunne,  in  his  translation  of  Peter  of  Langtoft, 
seems  to  have  used  the  Alexandrin  verse  in  imitation  of  his  Origi 
nal  ;  but  his  Metre  (at  least  in  Hearne's  copy)  is  frequently  de 
fective,  especially  in  the  latter  part  of  his  work,  where  he  affects 
to  rime  at  the  Ctesura  as  well  as  at  the  end  of  his  verse. 

The  Alexandrin  metre  is  generally  agreed  to  have  been  first 
used  in  the  Uoman  d'Akxandre,  by  Lambert  li  Cors  and  Alexandre 
de  Bernay,  toward  the  latter  end  of  the  twelfth  Century,  [Du 
Verdier,  Bibl.  p.  780.  Fauchet,  1.  ii,]  A  late  French  Antiquary 
(M.  L'Eveque  de  la  Ravaliere),  in  his  history  Des  revolutions  de 
la  langue  Francoise,  p.  165.  has  combated  this  opinion,  upon  the 
authority  of  some  Alexandrin  verses,  which  he  has  discovered,  as 
he  supposes,  in  the  Roman  de  Rou.  I  shall  only  observe,  that  no 
such  verses  are  to  be  found  in  a  very  good  Ms.  of  the  Roman  de 
Rou,  Bib.  Reg.  4.  C.  xi.  and  I  very  much  suspect  that  upon  an 
VOL.  I.  F 


66  ESSAY  ON   THE  LANGUAGE  AND 


V 


more  than  thirteen  syllables,  nor  less  than  twelve, 
with  a  CcEsura  at  the  sixth.  Thirdly,  the  Octosyllable 
vMetre ;  which  was  in  reality  the  antient  Dimeter 
Iambic.  Fourthly,  the  Stanza  of  six  verses ;  of 
which  the  first,  second,  fourth,  and  fifth,  were  in 
the  complete  Octosyllable  Metre ;  and  the  third 
and  last  catalectic,  i.  e.  wanting  a  syllable,  or  even 
two. 

§  VIII.  In  the  first  of  these  Metres  it  does  not 
appear  that  Chaucer  ever  composed  at  all,  (for,  I 
presume,  no  one  can  imagine  that  he  was  the  au 
thor  of  Gamelyn,)  or  in  the  second ;  and  in  the 

accurate  examination  they  will  appear  to  have  been  not  the  work 
of  Wace,  but  of  some  later  author.  A  similar  mistake  of  au  in 
terpolation,  or  continuation,  for  the  original  work  has  led  another 
very  able  Antiquary  of  the  same  nation  to  place  the  Roman 
de  R0u  in  the  fourteenth  Century.  [Mem.  de  1'Acad.  des  I.  & 
B.  L.  torn.  xv.  p.  582.]  There  can  be  no  doubt,  that  Wace  wrote 
the  Roman  de  Ron  about  the  middle  of  the  twelfth  Century.  See 
before,  n.  47. 

They  who  attend  only  to  the  length  of  the  Alexandria  verse, 
will  naturally  derive  it  from  the  Trimeter  Iambic  rythms,  which 
were  in  frequent  use  in  the  beginning  of  the  twelfth  Century. 
[See  OrderJc.  Vital.  1.  ii.  p.  404.  409,  410.  415,  &  al.]  But  when 
it  is  considered,  that  the  Caesura  at  the  sixth  syllable,  so  essential 
to  the  Alexandrin  metre,  was  hardly  ever  observed  in  the  Trimeter 
Iambic,  it  will  seem  more  probable,  I  think,  that  the  inventor  of 
the  Alexandrin  took  for  his  model,  what  has  been  called  above, 
the  long  Iambic,  but,  for  some  reason  or  other,  retrenched  a  foot, 
-or  two  syllables,  in  the  first  hemistich. 


VERSIFICATION  OF  CHAUCER.  67 


fourth  we  have  nothing  of  his  but  the  Rime  of  Sire 
Thopas,  which,  being-  intended  to  ridicule  the  vul 
gar  Romancers,  seems  to  have  been  purposely 
written  in  their  favourite  Metre.  In  the  third,  or 
Octosyllable  Metre  (60),  he  has  left  several  com- 

(60)  Though  I  call  this  the  octosyllable  Metre  from  what  I  ap 
prehend  to  have  been  its  original  form,  it  often  consists  of  nine  and 
sometimes  of  ten  syllables  j  but  the  eighth  is  always  the  last  ac 
cented  syllable. 

The  oldest  French  poems,  to  the  latter  end  of  the  twelfth 
Century,  are  all  in  this  metre ;  but  upon  the  invention  of  the 
Alexandrin,  the  octosyllable  verse  seems  by  degrees  to  have  been 
confined  to  the  several  species  of  lighter  compositions,  in  which  it 
is  still  used.  Here  in  England,  Robert  of  Brunne,  in  his  Preface 
to  his  translation  of  Le  Brut  [App.  to  Perf.  to  Peter  Langtoft, 
p.  c.],  calls  it  "  light  rime,"  in  contradistinction  to  "  strange  rime/> 
of  which  he  has  just  enumerated  several  sorts  [See  n.  56.];  and 
says,  that  he  wrote  in  it  "  for  luf  of  the  lewed  man  :"  and  Chaucer 
himself  speaks  of  it  in  nearly  the  same  terms  in  the  beginning  of 
the  third  book  of  the  House  of  Fame* 

"  God  of  science  and  of  light, 

Apollo,  thurgh  thy  grete  might 

This  little  last  book  now  thou  gye  ; 

Not  that  I  will  for  maystrye 

Here  art  potential  be  shewde; 

But,  for  the  ryme  is  light  and  levide, 

Yet  make  it  somewhat  agreable, 

Though  some  verse  fayle  in  a  syllable." 

The  learned  Editor  of  a  part  of  the  Canterbury  Tales  [Lon 
don,  1737,  8vo.]  has  quoted  this  passage  [Pref.  p.  xxv.]  as  prov 
ing,  "  by  Chaucer's  own  confession,  that  he  did  not  write  in  equal 
measure." 


68  ESSAY  ON  THE  LANGUAGE  AND 


positions  ;  particularly,  "  an  imperfect  Transla 
tion  of  the  Roman  de  la  Rose,"  which  was,  probably, 
one  of  his  earliest  performances ;  "  the  House  of 

It  certainly  proves,  that  he  did  not  write  in  equal  measure  in 
this  particular  poem  of  the  House  of  Fame ;  but  it  proves  also,  that 
he  knew  well  what  the  laws  of  measure  were,  and  that  he  thought 
that  any  deviation  from^them  required  an  apology.  Is  it  just  to 
conclude,  because  Chaucer  has  owned  a  neglect  of  those  laws  in 
one  work,  written  in  light  metre,  and  in  which  he  formally  dis 
claims  any  exertion  of  art  [ver.  4,  5.],  that  therefore  he  has  been 
equally  negligent  of  them  in  his  other  works,  written  in  the  gravest 
metre,  and  in  which  he  may  reasonably  be  supposed  to  have  em 
ployed  his  utmost  skill  of  versification  ?  In  theTroilus,  for  instance 
[B.  v.],  he  has  a  solemn  prayer,  "  that  none  miswrite,  or  mismetre 
his  book."  Can  we  suppose  that  it  was  not  orignaily  written  in 
Metre  ? — But  I  shall  not  enter  any  further  into  the  general  argu 
ment  concerning  Chaucer's  versification,  which  will  more  properly 
be  discussed  in  the  text.  My  business  here  was  only  to  pre 
vent  the  reader  from  coming  to  the  question  with  a  preconceived 
opinion  (upon  the  authority  of  the  learned  Editor  abovementioned) 
that  "  Chaucer  himself,"  in  this  passage  of  the  House  of  Fame, 
"  has  put  the  matter  out  of  dispute." 

To  return  again  to  the  octosyllable  Metre.  Its  constitution  is 
such,  that  the  first  syllable  may  often  be  dropped  without  much 
prejudice  to  the  harmony  of  the  verse ;  and  as  far  as  I  have  ob 
served,  that  is  the  syllable,  in  which  Chaucer's  verses  of  this  kind 
generally  fail.  We  have  an  instance  in  the  first  line  of  the  passage 
quoted  above — 

God  of  science  and  of  light — 
sounds  as  well  (to  my  ear  at  least)  as  — 

ThouGod  of  science  and  of  light — 
according  to  Mr.  Urry's  correction.    The  reason,  1  apprehend,  is, 


VERSIFICATION  OF  CHAUCER.  69 


Fame ;"  "  the  Dethe  of  the   Duchesse  Blanche," 
and  a  poem  called  his  "  Dreme  :"  upon  all  which 

that  the  measure,  though  of  another  sort,  is  still  regular :  instead 
of  a  Dimeter  Iambic,  it  is  a  Dimeter  Trochaic  Catalectic. 

But  no  sucli  liberty  can  be  taken  in  the  Heroic  metre  without 
totally  destroying  its  harmony :  and  therefore  when  the  above- 
mentioned  learned  Editor  says  [Pref.  p.  xxvi.],  that  the  numbers 
of  Chaucer  "are  always  musical ,  whether  they  want  or  exceed 
their  complement,"  I  doubt  his  partiality  for  his  author  has  carried 
him  too  far.  I  have  no  conception  myself  that  an  heroic  verse, 
which  wants  a  syllable  of  its  complement,  can  be  musical,  or  even 
tolerable.  The  line  which  he  has  quoted  from  the  Knightes  Tale 
[ver.  1228  of  this  Edition], 

Not  in  purgatory  but  in  helle  — 

however  you  manage  it ;  (whether  you  make  a  pause ;  or  give 
two  times  to  the  first  syllable,  as  he  rather  advises  ;) — -can  never 
pass  for  a  verse  of  any  form.     Nor  did  Chaucer  intend  that  it 
should.    He  wrote  (according  to  the  best  Mss.) — 
Not  only  in  purgatory  but  in  helle. 

A  learned  person,  whose  favours  I  have  already  acknowledged 
in  the  Gloss,  v.  GORE,  cannot  acquiesce  in  this  notion,  "  that  the 
greatest  part  of  Chaucer's  heroic  verses,  when  properly  written 
and  pronounced,  are  verses  of  eleven  syllables;"  and  for  a  proof 
of  the  contrary  he  refers  me  particularly  to  the  Nonnes  Preestes 
tale,  ver.  14970,  and  the  verses  following  and  preceding.  I  am 
sorry  that  by  an  unguarded  expression  I  should  have  exposed  my 
self  to  a  controversy,  which  can  only  be  decided  by  a  careful  ex 
amination  of  the  final  syllables  of  between  thiry  and  forty  thousand 
lines.  It  would  answer  my  purpose  as  well  to  say  "  a  great  part" 
instead  of  "  the  greatest  part ;"  but  in  support  of  my  first  idea  I 
must  be  permitted  to  observe,  that  I  have  carefully  examined  a 
hundred  lines  which  precede,  and  as  mnny  which  follow  ver.  14970, 


70  ESSAY  ON   THE  LANGUAGE  AND 


it  will  be  sufficient  here  to  observe  in  general,  that, 
if  he  had  given  no  other  proofs  of  his  poetical  fa 
culty,  these  alone  must  have  secured  to  him  the 
pre-eminence,  above  all  his  predecessors  and  con 
temporaries,  in  point  of  Versification. 

§  IX.  But  by  far  the  most  considerable  part  of 
Chaucer's  works  is  written  in  that  kind  of  Metre 
which  we  now  call  the  Heroic  (61),  either  in  dis- 

and  I  find,  that  a  clear  majority  of  them,  as  they  are  printed,  end 
in  e  feminine,  and  consequently,  according  to  my  hypothesis,  have 
an  eleventh  syllable.  I  observe  too,  that  several  more  ought  to 
have  been  printed  as  ending  with  an  e  feminine ;  but  whether  the 
omission  of  it  should  be  imputed  to  the  defectiveness  of  the  MSS. 
or  to  the  negligence  of  the  collator,  I  cannot  be  certain.  See  the 
concluding  note  of  the  Essay,  &c.  [74.] 

(61)  The  Heroic  Metre  with  us,  as  with  the  Italians,  is  of  the 
Iambic  form,  and  consists  of  ten,  eleven,  or  twelve  syllables ;  the 
tenth,  however,  being  in  all  cases  the  last  accented  syllable.  The 
French  have  the  same  Metre ;  but  with  them  it  can  scarce  con 
tain  more  than  eleven  syllables,  as  their  language  has  few  (if  any) 
words,  in  which  the  accent  is  laid  upon  the  Antepenultima. 
Though  we  have  a  great  number  of  such  words,  we  seldom  use  the 
verse  of  twelve  syllables.  The  extraordinary  difficulty  of  riming 
with  three  syllables  is  a  sufficient  reason  for  excluding  it  from 
all  works  which  are  written  in  Rime,  and  in  Blank  metre  the  two 
unaccented  syllables  at  the  end  make  the  close  of  the  verse  heavy 
and  languid.  Milton,  for  the  sake  of  variety  of  measure,  has  in 
serted  a  very  few  of  these  verses,  which  the  Italians  call  Sdruccioli, 
in  his  heroic  poems ;  but  they  are  more  commonly  and,  I  think, 
more  properly  employed  in  Dramatic  compositions,  where  a  con 
tinued  stateliness  of  numbers  is  less  requisite. 


VERSIFICATION  OF  CHAUCER.  71 


tichs  or  in  Stanzas ;  and  as  I  have  not  been  able  to 
discover  any  instance  of  this  metre  being  used  by 
any  English  poet  before  him,  I  am  much  inclined 
to  suppose  that  he  was  the  first  introducer  of  it 
into  our  language.  It  had  long  been  practised  in 
France,  in  the  Northern  as  well  as  the  Southern 
provinces ;  and  in  Italy,  within  the  last  fifty  years 
before  Chaucer  wrote,  it  had  been  cultivated  with 
the  greatest  assiduity  and  success,  in  preference  to 
every  other  metre,  by  Dante,  Petrarch,  and  Boc- 
cace.  When  we  reflect  that  two  of  Chaucer's  ju 
venile  productions,  the  Palamon  and  Arcite,  and 
the  Troilus,  were  in  a  manner  translated  from  the 
Theseida  and  the  fllostrato  of  Boccace  (62),  both 

The  generical  name  for  this  Metre  in  Italy  is  Endecasyllabo ; 
and  the  verses  of  ten  aud  twelve  syllables  are  distinguished  by  ad 
ditions;  the  former  being  called  Endecasyllabo  tronco,  aud  the  lat 
ter  Endecasyllabo  sdrucciolo.  This  proves,  I  think,  that  the  verse 
of  eleven  syllables  was  the  primitive  metre,  and  piincipally  used, 
as  it  still  is,  in  Italy ;  and  it  will  appear  hereafter,  if  I  am  not 
mistaken,  that  the  greatest  part  of  Chaucer's  heioic  verses,  when 
properly  written  and  pronounced,  are  in  this  measure. 

(62)  It  is  so  little  a  while  since  the  world  has  been  informed, 
that  the  Palamon  and  Arcite  of  Chaucer  was  taken  from  the  TTte- 
seida  of  Boccace,  that  it  would  not  have  been  surprizing  if  another 
century  had  elapsed  without  our  knowing  that  our  countryman, 
had  also  borrowed  his  Troilus  from  the  Filostrato  of  the  same  au 
thor  ;  as  the  Filostrato  is  more  scarce,  and  much  Jess  famous,  even 
in  Italy,  than  the  Theseida.  The  first  suspicion  which  I  enter- 


ESSAY  ON  THE  LANGUAGE  AND 


written  in  the  common  Italian  hendecasyllable 
verse,  it  cannot  but  appear  extremely  probable  that 

tained  of  this  theft  was  from  reading  the  title  of  the  Filostrato 
at  targe,  in  Saxii  Hist.  Lit.  Typog.  Mediolan.  ad  an,  1498  ;  and  I 
afterwards  found,  in  Montfaucon's  Bibl.  Mss.  t.  ii.  p.  793.  among 
the  King  of  France's  Mss.  one  with  this  title,  "  Philostrato,  delF 
amorosefatiche  di  Troilo  per  Gio.  Boccaccio.  [See  also  Quadrio, 
lr  vi.  p.  473.]  1  had  just  employed  a  person  to  procure  me  some 
account  of  this  Ms.  from  Paris,  when  1  had  the  good  fortune  to 
meet  with  a  printed  copy  in  the  very  curious  Collection  of  the 
Reverend  Mr.  Crofts.  The  title  i.«, "  II  Fylastrato,  ohe  tracta  de 
lo  HiRamoramento  de  Troylo  e  Gryseida :  et  de  molte  altre  infinite 
battaglie.  Tmpresso  nella  inclita  cita  de  Milano  per  magistro 
Uldericho  Scinzenzeler  nell  anno  M.  cccc  Ixxxxviii.  a  di  xxvii  di 
mese  de  Septembre,  in  4°."  By  the  favour  of  the  learned  owner 
(who  is  as  free  in  the  communication,  as  he  has  been  zealous  in  the 
collection,  of  his  literary  treasures)  I  had  soon  an  opportunity  of 
satisfying  myself,  that  Chaucer  was  to  the  full  as  much  obliged  to 
Boccace  in  his  Troilus,  as  in  his  Knightes  Tale. 

The  doubts  which  Quadrio  mentions  [t.  vi.  p.  474.],  whether 
the  Filostrato  was  really  a  work  of  Boccace,  are  sufficiently  an 
swered  (as  he  observes)  by  the  concurring  testimony  of  several 
antient  Mss.  which  expressly  name  him  as  the  author.  And 
it  may  be  remarked,  that  Boccace  himself,  in  his  Decameron,  ha» 
made  the  same  honourable  mention  of  this  Poem  as  of  the  The- 
teida  ;  though  without  acknowledging  either  for  his  own.  In  the 
introduction  to  the  Sixth  Day,  he  says,  that  "  Dioneo  insieme  con 
Lauretta  di  Troilo  et  di  Criscida  cominciarono  cantare,"  just  as 
afterwards,  in  the  conclusion  of  the  Seventh  Day,  we  are  told,  that 
the  same  "  Dioneo  et  la  Fiammetta  gran  pezza  cantarono  insieme 
d'Arcitu  et  di  Palemone.'' 

It  may  be  not  improper  here  to  observe  further,  that  a  third 
yoem,  which  is  mentioned  in  the  Decameron  in  the  same  manner 


VERSIFICATION  OP  CHATTCER.  73 


his  metre  also  was  copied  from  the  same  original ; 
and  yet  I  cannot  find  that  the  form  of  his  Stanza 
in  the  Troilus  (consisting  of  seven  verses)  was  ever 
used  by  Boccace,  though  it  is  to  be  met  with 
among  the  poems  of  the  King  of  Navarre,  and  of 
the  Provencal  Rimers  (63).  Whichever  he  shall 

with  the  Theselda  and  the  Filostrato,  was  also  probably  one  of  Boc- 
cace's  own  compositions.  In  the  conclusion  of  the  Third  day,  it  is 
said,  that  "  Dioneo  et  la  Fiammetta  cominciarono  a  cantare  di 
Messer  Guiglielmo  et  della  dama  del  Vergiu."  There  is  an  old- 
French  Romance,  upon  this  subject,  as  I  apprehend,  in  MS.  Bodl. 
2386.  It  is  entitled  Le  Romant  de  la  ChatteUdne  du  Vergy,  and 
begins  thus  : 

Une  maniere  de  gens  sent 
Qoi  d'estre  loyaulx  semblant  font — 
Ainsi  qu'il  avint  eu  Bourgoigne 
IPun  chevalier  preux  et  hard! 

Et  de  la  dame  du  Vergy. 

The  story  is  the  same,  in  the  main,  with  that  of  the  70th  Norcl 
in  the  Heptameron  of  the  Queen  of  Navarre,  from  which,  I  sup 
pose,  the  more  modern  Histoire  de  la  Ccmtesse  du  Vergi,  Par. 
1722,  is  taken. 

I  cannot  find  that  any  Italian  poem  upon  this  subject  is  now 
extant ;  but  the  unaccountable  neglect,  with  which  the  poetry  of 
Boccace  has  been  long  treated  by  those  very  countrymen  of  bia 
who  idolize  his  prose,  makes  the  supposition,  I  think,  not  impro 
bable,  that  a  small  piece  of  this  sort  may  have  been  suffered  to 
perish,  or  even  to  lurk  at  this  day,  unpublished  or  unnoticed,  in 
some  Italian  library. 

(63)  See  Poetics  du  Roi  de  Navarre,  Chans,  xvi.  xviii.  SXTII. 
xxxiii.  Iviii.  The  only  difference  is,  that  the  two  last  verses,  which 


74  ESSAY  ON  THE  LANGUAGE  AND 


be  supposed  to  have  followed,  whether  the  French 
or  Italians,  it  is  certain  that  he  coud  not  want  in 
either  language  a  number  of  models  of  correct  and 
harmonious  versification ;  and  the  only  question 
will  be,  whether  he  had  ability  and  industry  enough 
to  imitate  that  part  of  their  excellency. 

§  X.  In  discussing  this  question  we  should  al 
ways  have  in  mind,  that  the  correctness  and  har- 

in  Chaucer's  Stanza  form  a  distinct  couplet,  are  made  by  Thibaut 
to  rime  with  the  first  and  third.  In  a  Ms.  of  Prover^al  poetry  (in 
the  Collection  of  the  Reverend  Mr.  Crofts),  I  find  one  piece  by 
Folket  de  Marseilles  (who  died  about  1213),  in  which  the  Stanza 
is  formed  exactly  agreeable  to  Chaucer's. 

This  Stanza  of  seven  verses,  being  first  introduced,  I  apprehend, 
by  Chaucer,  was  long  the  favourite  measure  of  the  Poets  who  suc 
ceeded  him.  In  the  time  of  Gascoigne  it  had  acquired  the  name 
of  Rithme  royall ;  and  surely  (says  I.e)  it  is  a  royall  kinde  of  verse 
serving  best  for  grave  discourses.  [Instruction  concerning  the  making 
of  verse.  Sign.  U.  1.  b.]  Rowley,  who  wrote  in  the  reigns  of 
Henry  VI  and  Edward  IV,  with  an  uncommon  harmony  of  num 
bers,  has  made  the  last  verse  of  this  Stanza  an  Alexandrin;  and  so 
has  Milton  in  some  of  his  juvenile  compositions. 

As  the  Theseida  and  the  Filostrato  of  Boccace  are  both  written 
in  the  Octave  Stanza,  of  which  he  is  often,  though  improperly, 
called  the  inventor  [see  Pasquier,  Recherches,  1.  vii.  c.  3.]  it  seems 
extraordinary  that  Chaucer  should  never  have  adopted  that  Stanza. 
Even  when  he  uses  a  Stanza  of  eight  verses  (as  in  the  Monkes 
Tale),  it  is  constituted  very  differently  from  the  Italian  Octave.  I 
observe,  by  the  way,  that  Chaucer's  Stanza  of  eight  verses,  with 
the  addition  of  an  Alexandrin,  is  the  Stanza  in  which  Spenser  has 
composed  his  Faery  Queen. 


VERSIFICATION  OF  CHAUCER. 


mony  of  an  English  verse  depends  entirely  upon 
its  being  composed  of  a  certain  number  of  syllables, 
and  its  having  the  accents  of  those  syllables  pro 
perly  placed.  In  order  therefore  to  form  any 
judgement  of  the  Versfication  of  Chaucer,  it  is  ne 
cessary  that  we  should  know  the  syllabical  value 
(if  I  may  use  the  expression)  of  his  wordsr  and  the 
accentual  value  of  his  syllables,  as  they  were  com 
monly  pronounced  (64)  in  his  time  ;  for  without 
that  knowledge,  it  is  not  more  probable  that  we 
should  determine  justly  upon  the  exactness  of  his 
metres,  than  that  we  should  be  able  to  cast  up 
rightly  an  account  stated  in  coins  of  a  former  age, 
of  whose  current  rates  and  denominations  we  are 
totally  ignorant. 

§  XI.  Let  us  consider  a  moment,  how  a  sensi 
ble  critic  in  the  Augustan  age  would  have  pro 
ceeded,  if  called  upon  to  examine  a  work  of  En- 

(64)  Mons.  L'Eveque  de  la  Ravaliere,  in  his  Discourse  de  I'an- 
cienntt£  des  Chansons  Francoises,  prefixed  to  the  Poesies  du  Roi  de 
Navarre,  has  the  same  observation  w  ith  respect  to  the  old  French 
poets.  Leur  Po'isie  (says  he,  p.  227.)  marque  combien  Us  respec- 
toient  cette  rlgle  [of  exact  riming]  ;  mais  pour  en  juger  aujourd'hui, 
ainsi  que  de  la  mesure  de  leurs  Vers,  il  faut  prononcer  les  mots 
comme  eux: — He  is  vindicating  the  antient  French  bards  from 
an  unjust  and  ignorant  censure  of  Boileau,  in  his  Art  Poet.  Chant,  i. 
So  thai,  it  should  seem,  a  great  Poet  is  not  of  course  a  judicious 
Antiquary.  See  above,  n.  4.  a  censure  of  Chaucer's  verse  by  our 
Dryden,  who  was  certainly  a  great  Poet. 


76  ESSAY  ON   THE  LANGUAGE  AND 


nius  (65).  When  he  found  that  a  great  proportion 
of  the  verses  were  strictly  conformable  to  the  or 
dinary  rules  of  Metre,  he  would,  probably,  not 
scruple  to  conclude  that  such  a  conformity  must 
have  been  produced  by  art  and  design,  and  not  by 
mere  chance.  On  the  other  hand,  when  he  found, 
that  in  some  verses  the  number  of  feet,  to  appear 
ance,  was  either  deficient  or  redundant;  that  in 
others  the  feet  were  seemingly  composed  of  too 
few  or  too  many  syllables,  of  short  syllables  in  the 
place  of  long  or  of  long  in  the  place  of  short;  he 
would  not,  I  think,  immediately  condemn  the  old 
Bard,  as  having  all  at  once  forgotten  the  funda 
mental  principles  of  his  art,  or  as  having  wilfully 
or  negligently  deviated  from  them.  He  would  first, 
I  presume,  enquire,  whether  all  these  irregularities 

(65)  Though  Ennius  died  not  an  liuudnd  and  fifty  years  before 
what  may  be  called  the  age  of  Augustus,  his  language  and  ver 
sification  are  so  different  from  those  of  Ovid  (for  instance),  that  I 
much  question  whether  his  poems  were  better  relished,  or  even 
understood,  by  the  vulgar  Romans  in  that  age,  than  the  works  of 
Chaucer  are  now  by  the  generality  of  readers.  However  a  great 
many  of  his  verses  are  as  smoothly  turned  as  those  of  Ovid  him 
self,  and  it  is  well  known,  that  Virgil  has  not  scrupled  to  incor 
porate  several  of  them  into  his  divine  -^Eneid.  At  the  same  time, 
whoever  casts  an  eye  over  the  Fragments  of  his  Annals,  as  collected 
by  Columna,  Hesselius,  and  others,  will  find  frequent  examples  of 
all  the  seeming  irregularities  alluded  to  in  the  text. 


VERSIFICATION  Ol'  CHAUCER.  77 


were  in  the  genuine  text  of  his  author,  or  only  the 
mistakes  of  Copyists  :  he  would  enquire  further, 
by  comparing  the  genuine  text  with  other  contem 
porary  writings  and  monuments,  whether  many 
things,  which  appeared  irregular,  were  not  in  truth 
sufficiently  regular,  either  justified  by  the  constant 
practice,  or  excused  by  the  allowed  licence  of  the 
age  ;  where  authority  failed,  he  would  have  re 
course  (but  soberly)  to  etymology  and  analogy ; 
and  if  after  all  a  few  passages  remained,  not  re 
ducible  to  the  strict  laws  of  Metre  by  any  of  the 
methods  abovementioned,  if  he  were  really  (as  I 
have  supposed  him)  a  sensible  critic,  he  would  be 
apt  rather  to  expect  patiently  the  solution  of  his 
difficulties  from  more  correct  manuscripts,  or  a 
more  complete  theory  of  his  author's  versification, 
than  to  cut  the  knot,  by  deciding  peremptorily, 
that  the  work  was  composed  without  any  regard  to 
metrical  rules. 

§  XII.  I  beg  leave  to  pursue  the  same  course 
with  respect  to  Chaucer.  The  great  number  of 
verses,  sounding  complete  even  to  our  ears,  which 
is  to  be  found  in  all  the  least  corrected  copies  of 
his  works,  authorizes  us  to  conclude,  that  he  was 
not  ignorant  of  the  laws  of  metre.  Upon  this  con 
clusion  it  is  impossible  not  to  ground  a  strong  pre- 


78  ESSAY  ON  THE  LANGUAGE  AND 


sumption,  that  he  intended  to  observe  the  same 
laws  in  the  many  other  verses  which  seem  to  us  ir 
regular  ;  and  if  this  was  really  his  intention,  what 
reason  can  be  assigned  sufficient  to  account  for  his 
having  failed  so  grossly  and  repeatedly,  as  is  ge 
nerally  supposed,  in  an  operation,  which  every 
Ballad-monger  in  our  days,  man,  woman,  or  child, 
is  known  to  perform  with  the  most  unerring  ex 
actness,  and  without  any  extraordinary  fatigue  ? 

§  XIII.  The  offences  against  metre  in  an  English 
verse,  as  has  partly  been  observed  before,  must 
arise  either  from  a  Superfluity  or  Deficiency  of 
syllables,  or  from  the  Accents  being  improperly 
placed. 

§  XIV.  With  respect  to  the  first  species  of  ir 
regularity,  I  have  not  taken  notice  of  any  Super 
fluities  in  Chaucer's  verses,  but  what  may  be  re 
duced  to  just  measure  by  the  usual  practices  (66)  of 

(66)  It  is  unnecessary  to  trouble  the  Reader  with  an  enumera 
tion  of  Syncope,  Apostrophus,  Synecphonesis,  &c. 

Quicquid  habent  telorum  armamentaria  vatum. 
They  may  all,  I  think,  be  comprehended  in  our  language  under 
this  one  general  principle,  than  an  English  verse,  though  chiefly 
composed  of  feet  of  two  syllables,  is  capable  of  receiving  feet  of 
three  syllables  in  every  part  of  it,  provided  only  one  of  the  three 
syllables  be  accented. 

In  short,  whoever  can  taste  the  metrical  harmony  of  the  follow 
ing  lines  of  Milton,  will  not  be  embarrassed  how  to  dispose  of  the 


VERSIFICATION  OF  CHAUCER.  79 


even  modern  Poets.  And  this,  by  the  way,  is  a 
strong  proof  of  his  real  attention  to  metrical  rules  ; 
for  otherwise,  if  he  had  written  without  any  re 
straint  of  that  kind,  a  certain  proportion  of  his 
deviations  from  measure  must,  in  all  probability, 
have  been  on  the  side  of  excess. 

§  XV.  But  a  great  number  of  Chaucer's  verses 
labour  under  an  apparent  Deficiency  of  a  syllable, 
or  two.  In  some  of  these  perhaps  the  defect  may 
still  be  supplied  from  Mss. :  but  for  the  greatest 
part  I  am  persuaded  no  such  assistance  is  to  be 
expected  (67);  and  therefore,  supposing  the  text 

{seemingly)  superfluous  syllables,  which  he  may  meet  with  in 
Chaucer. 

P.  L.  ii.  123.  Ominous  |  conjecture  on  the  whole  success. 

502.  A  pil  |  lar  of  state  |  ;    deep  on  his  front  en 
graven  — 

ii.  658.  Celestial  spir  |  its  in  b6n  |  dage,  nor  the  abyss — 
v.  495.  No  inconvenient  di  |  et,  nor  t6o  |  light  fare, 
vii.  122.  Things  not  revealed,  which  the  invis  |  ibleKing — 
(67)  J  Would  not  be  thought  to  undervalue  the  Mss.  which  I 
have  not  seen,  or  to  discourage  those  who  may  have  inclination 
and  opportunity  to  consult  them.     I  only  mean  to  say,  that, 
where  the  text  is  supported  (as  it  generally  is  in  this  Edition)  by 
the  concurrence  of  two  or  three  good  Mss.  and  the  sense  is  clear 
and  complete,  we  may  safely  consider  it  as  tolerably  correct.     In 
the  course  of  the  Notes,  I  shall  have  occasion  to  point  out  several 
passages,  in  which  either  the  disagreement  of  the  good  Mss.  or  the 
obscurity  of  their  readings,  makes  a  further  enquiry  absolutely  ne 
cessary  in  order  to  settle  the  text. 


80  ESSAY  ON  THE  LANGUAGE  AND 


in  these  cases  to  be  correct,  it  is  worth  considering 
whether  the  verse  also  may  not  be  made  correct, 
by  adopting  in  certain  words  a  pronunciation,  dif 
ferent  indeed  from  modern  practice,  but  which,  we 
have  reason  to  believe,  was  used  by  the  author 
himself. 

For  instance,  in  the  Genitive  case  Singular  and 
the  Plural  Number  of  Nouns  (which,  as  has  been 
remarked  above,  in  the  time  of  Chaucer  had  the 
same  expression),  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  such 
words  as,  shoures,  ver.  1.  croppes,  ver.  7-  shires,  ver. 
15.  lordes,  ver.  47,  &c.  were  regularly  pronounced 
as  consisting  of  two  syllables.  Whenever  they  are 
used  as  Monosyllables,  it  must  be  considered  as  a 
Poetical  Licence,  warranted  however  even  then  (as 
we  may  presume  from  the  natural  progress  of  our 
language)  by  the  practice  of  inaccurate  speakers 
in  common  conversation. 

In  like  manner,  we  may  be  sure  that  ed,  the  re 
gular  termination  of  the  Past  Tense  and  its  Par 
ticiple,  made,  or  contributed  to  make,  a  second 
syllable  in  the  words,  perced,  ver.  2.  bathed,  ver.  3. 
loved,  ver.  45.  wered,  ver.  75,  &c.  (68).  The  first 

( 68)  It  appears  from  the  Preface  to  the  last  Edition  of  Chau 
cer's  Works,  Load.  1721,  that  Mr.  Urry,  the  undertaker  of  that 
Edition,  had  the  same  opinion  with  respect  to  the  pronunciation  of 


VERSIFICATION   OF  CHAUCER.  81 


step  toward  reducing  words  of  this  form  to  Mono 
syllables  seems  to  have  been  to  shorten  the  last 
syllable,  either  by  transposing  the  final  letters,  as 
in — wolde,  ver.  144.  sayde,  ver.  763,  &c.  or  by 
throwing  away  the  d,  as  in — coste,  ver.  1910.  caste, 
ver.  2083,  &c.  In  both  these  cases  the  words  still 

remained  of  two  syllables,  the  final  e  being  sounded 

* 

the  final  syllables  in  this  and  the  last  mentioned  instance ;  and  that 
it  was  his  intention  to  distinguish  those  syllables,  whenever  they 
were  to  be  pronounced,  by  printing  them  with  an  i,  instead  of  an  e ; 
as,  shouris,  shiris,  percid,  lovid,  &c.  As  such  a  distinction  is  en 
tirely  unsupported  by  the  Mss.  and  must  necessarily  very  much 
disfigure  the  orthography  of  the  language,  I  cannot  think  that  an 
Editor  has  a  right  to  introduce  it  upon  ever  so  plausible  a  pre 
tence.  A  shorter  and  (in  my  opinion)  a  less  exceptionable  method 
would  have  been  to  have  distinguished  the  syllables  of  this  sort, 
whenever  they  were  to  be  contracted,  by  adding  a  sign  of  Syncope, 
thus  ;  shoure's,  shire's,  perce'd,  loved.  But  after  all  a  reader,  who 
cannot  periorm  such  operations  for  himself,  had  better  not  trouble 
his  head  about  the  Versification  of  Chaucer. 

Mr.  Urry  had  also  discovered,  that  the  final  e  (of  which  I  shall 
treat  more  at  large  in  the  next  Section)  often  made  a  syllable  in 
Chaucer's  verse ;  and  (accordingly  to  the  Preface  quoted  above) 
he  "  always  marked  with  an  accent,  when  he  judged  it  necessary 
to  pronounce  it ;  as,  swete,  halve,  smale,  ver,  5,  8,  9."  I  have  the 
same  objection  to  this  mark  that  I  have  to  innovations  in  ortho 
graphy,  and  besides,  that  it  would  be  apt  to  mislead  the  ignorant 
reader  (for  whom  only  it  can  be  intended),  by  making  him  sup. 
pose  that  the  e  so  marked  was  really  to  be  accented,  whereas  the 
true  e  feminine  is  always  to  be  pronounced  with  an  obscure  evan 
escent  sound,  and  is  incapable  of  bearing  any  stress  er  accent. 
VOL.  I.  G 


82  ESSAY  ON  THE  LANGUAGE  AND 


as  an  e  feminine ;  but  they  were  prepared  to  lose 
their  last  syllable  by  the  easy  licence  of  changing 
an  e  feminine  into  an  e  mute,  or  of  dropping  it  en 
tirely,  according  to  the  modern  practice. 

§  XVI.  But  nothing  will  be  found  of  such  exten 
sive  use  for  supplying  the  deficiencies  of  Chaucer's 
metre  as  the  pronunciation  of  the  e  feminine ;  and 
as  that  pronunciation  has  been  for  a  long  time  to 
tally  antiquated,  it  may  be  proper  here  to  suggest 
some  reasons  for  believing  (independently  of  any 
arguments  to  be  drawn  from  the  practice  of  Chaucer 
himself)  that  the  final  e  in  our  antient  language  was 
very  generally  pronounced,  as  the  e  feminine  is  at 
this  day  by  the  French. 

With  respect  to  words  imported  directly  from 
France,  it  is  certainly  quite  natural  to  suppose, 
that,  for  some  time,  they  retained  their  native 
pronunciation ;  whether  they  were  Nouns  substan 
tive,  as,  hoste,  ver.  753.  face,  ver.  1580.  &c. — or 
Adjectives,  as,  large,  ver.  755.  strange,  ver.  13. 
&c. — or  Verbs,  as,  grante,  ver.  12756.  preche,  ver. 
12327.  &c.  and  it  cannot  be  doubted,  that  in  these 
and  other  similar  words  in  the  French  language, 
the  final  e  was  always  pronounced,  as  it  still  is,  so 
as  to  make  them  dissyllables. 

We  have  not  indeed  so  clear  a  proof  of  the  origi- 


VERSIFICATION  OF  CHAUCER.  83 


nal  pronunciation  of  the  Saxon  part  (69)  of  our 
language ;  but  we  know,  from  general  observation, 
that  all  changes  of  pronunciation  are  usually  made 
by  small  degrees  ;  and  therefore,  when  we  find  that 
a  great  number  of  those  words,  which  in  Chaucer's 
time  ended  in  e,  originally  ended  in  a,  we  may  rea 
sonably  presume,  that  our  ancestors  first  passed 
from  the  broader  sound  of  a  to  the  thinner  sound  of 
e  feminine,  and  not  at  once  from  a  to  c  mute.  Be 
sides,  if  the  final  e  in  such  words  was  not  pro- 

(69)  This  is  owing  to  the  Saxons  not  .having  left  us  any  metrical 
compositions,  as  has  been  observed  before,  p.  40.  Hickes  com 
plains  [Gr.  A.  S.  c.  xxiii.  §  7.],  "  that  it  is  difficult  to  know  of  how 
many  syllables  a  Saxon  verse  sometimes  consists,  for  this  reason 
among  others,  quod  non  constat  quomodo  voces  in  efceminino  vel  ob- 
scuro  terminates  pronuntianda  sunt  in  carmine."  He  might  (per 
haps  with  more  propriety)  have  complained,  that  it  is  difficult  to 
know  how  words  ending  in  e  feminine  are  to  be  pronounced  in  a 
Saxon  verse,  because  it  is  uncertain  of  how  many  syllables  any  of 
their  verses  consisted.  I  have  mentioned  in  the  text  two  cases  of 
words  abbreviated,  in  which  I  think  we  might  conclude  from  gene 
ral  reasoning  that  the  final  e  was  pronounced.  As  this  Theory, 
with  respect  to  these  words,  is  entirely  confirmed  by  the  practice 
of  Orm  (the  must  authentic  metrical  composer  that  we  have  in  our 
antient  language)  it  would  not  perhaps  be  unreasonable  to  infer, 
that  the  practice  of  Orm,  in  other  words  of  Saxon  original,  in  which 
the  final  e  is  pronounced,  is  consonant  to  the  old  Saxon  usage. 
However  that  may  be,  the  practice  of  Orm  must  certainly  be  ad 
mitted  to  prove,  that  such  a  pronunciation  prevailed  at  least  150 
years  before  Chaucer. 


84  ESSAY  ON  THE  LANGUAGE  AND 


nounced,  why  was  it  added  ?  From  the  time  that  it 
has  confessedly  ceased  to  be  pronounced  it  has 
been  gradually  omitted  in  them,  except  it  may  be 
supposed  of  use  to  lengthen  or  soften  (70)  the  pre 
ceding-  syllable,  as  in  hope,  name,  &c.  But  accord 
ing  to  the  ancient  orthography  it  terminates  many 
words  of  Saxon  original,  where  it  cannot  have  been 
added  for  any  such  purpose,  as,  herte,  childe,  olde, 
wilde,  &c.  In  these  therefore  we  must  suppose  that 
it  was  pronounced  as  an  e  feminine,  and  made  part 
of  a  second  syllable ;  and  so,  by  a  parity  of  reason, 
in  all  others,  in  which,  as  in  these,  it  appears  to 
have  been  substituted  for  the  Saxon  a.  , 

Upon  the  same  grounds  we  may  presume,  that  in 
words  terminated,  according  to  the  Saxon  form,  in 
en,  such  as  the  Infinitive  modes  and  Plural  numbers 
of  Verbs,  and  a  great  variety  of  Adverbs  and  Pre 
positions,  the  n  only  was  at  first  thrown  away,  and 

(70)  In  most  of  the  words  in  which  the  final  e  has  been  omitted, 
its  use  in  lengthening  or  softening  the  preceding  syllable  has  been 
supplied  by  an  alteration  in  the  Orthography  of  that  Syllable. 
Thus,  in — grete,  mete,  stele,  rede,  dere, — in  which  the  first  e  was 
originally  long,  as  closing  a  syllable,  it  has  (since  they  have  been 
pronounced  as  Monosyllables)  been  changed  either  into  ea,  as  in — 
great,  meat,  steal,  read,  dear ;  or  into  ee,  as  in — greet,  meet,  steel, 
reed,  deer.  In  like  manner  the  o  in — bate,  Jole,  dore,  gode,  mane, 
.has  been  changed  either  into  oa,  as  in  boat,  foal ;  or  into  oo,  as  in 
— door,  good,  moon. 


VERSIFICATION  OF  CHAUCER.  85 


the  e,  which  then  became  final,  continued  for  a  long 
time  to  be  pronounced  as  well  as  written. 

These  considerations  seem  sufficient  to  make  us 
believe,  that  the  pronunciation  of  the  e  feminine  is 
founded  on  the  very  nature  of  both  the  French  and 
Saxon  parts  of  our  language ;  and  therefore,  though 
we  may  not  be  able  to  trace  the  reasons  of  that  pro 
nunciation  in  all  cases  so  plainly  as  in  those  which 
have  been  just  mentioned,  we  may  safely,  I  think, 
conclude  with  the  learned  Wallis  (71),  that  what  is 

(71)  Gram.  ling.  Ang.  c.  i.  §  2.  "  Originera  vero  hujus  e  muti, 
nequis  miretur  unde  devenerit,  hanc  esse  judico :  Nempe,  quod 
antiquitus  pronunciatum  fuerit,  sed  obscuro  sono,  sicut  Gallorum  e 
fcemininum."  He  afterwards  adds:  "Certissimum  autem  hujus 
rei  indicium  est  ex  antiquis  Poetis  petendum;  apud  quos  reperitur 
illud  e  promiscue  vel  constituere  vel  non  constituere  novam  Sylla- 
bam,  prout  ratio  carminis  postulaverit."  So  that,  according  to  this 
judicious  writer,  (who  has  confessedly  searched  much  deeper  into 
the  formation  of  vocal  sounds  in  general,  and  the  pronunciation  of 
the  English  language  in  particular,  than  any  of  our  other  Gram 
marians,)  I  might  have  assumed,  as  certain,  the  point,  which  I  have 
been  labouring  in  the  text  (by  arguments  drawn  from  reason  and 
analogy)  to  render  probable. 

There  is  much  more  to  this  purpose  in  Wallis,  Zoc.  cit.  which  I 
should  transcribe,  if  I  did  not  suppose  that  his  book  is  in  the  hands 
of  every  one,  who  is  likely  to  be  curious  upon  this  subject.  I  will 
only  take  notice  of  one  passage  which  may  be  wrested  to  his  disad 
vantage.  From  considering  the  gradual  extinction  of  the  e  femi 
nine  in  our  language,  and  observing  that  the  French,  with  whom 
he  conversed,  very  often  suppressed  it  in  their  common  speech,  he 


86  ESSAY  ON  THE  LANGUAGE  AND 


generally  considered  as  an  e  mute  in  our  language, 
either  at  the  end  or  in  the  middle  of  words  (72), 

lias  been  led  to  predict,  that  the  pronunciation  of  it  would  perhaps 
shortly  be  disused  among  them  as  among  ourselves.  The  predic 
tion  has  certainly  failed :  but,  notwithstanding,  I  will  venture  to 
say,  that,  at  the  time  when  it  was  made,  it  was  not  unworthy  of 
Wallises  sagacity.  Unluckily  for  its  success,  a  number  of  eminent 
writers  happened,  at  that  very  time,  to  be  growing  up  in  France, 
whose  works,  having  since  been  received  as  standards  of  style, 
must  probably  fix  for  many  centuries  the  antient  usage  of  the  e 
feminine  in  Poetry,  and  of  course  give  a  considerable  check  to  the 
natural  progress  of  the  language.  If  the  age  of  Edward  III  had 
been  as  favourable  to  Letters  as  that  of  Louis  XIV ;  if  Chaucer 
and  his  contemporary  Poets  had  acquired  the  same  authority  here, 
that  Corneille,  Moliere,  Racine,  and  Boileau,  have  obtained  in 
France  ;  if  their  works  had  been  published  by  themselves,  and  per 
petuated  in  a  genuine  state  by  printing ;  I  think  it  probable,  that 
the  e  feminine  would  still  have  preserved  its  place  in  our  Poetical 
language  at  least,  and  certainly  without  any  prejudice  to  the 
smoothness  of  our  versification. 

(72)  The  reasoning  in  the  text  concerning  the  final  e  is  equally 
applicable  to  the  same  vowel  in  the  middle  of  words.  Indeed  (as 
Wallis  has  observed,  loc.  cit.)  "  vise  uspiam  in  medio  dictionis  re- 
peritur  e  mutum,  quod  non  ab  origine  fuerit  finale."  If  therefore 
it  was  pronounced  while  final,  it  would  probably  continue  to  be 
pronounced  notwithstanding  the  addition  of  a  syllable.  If  it  was 
pronounced  in  suxte,  Irewe,  large,  riche,  it  would  be  pronounced  in 
swetety,  trewely,  largely,  richely.  [See  ver.  123  and  3219,  ver. 
775  and  3692,  ver.  2740  and  3034,  ver.  1014  and  1913.]  In 
another  very  numerous  set  of  words  (French  Verbals  ending  in 
ment)  the  pronunciation  of  this  middle  e  is  countenanced,  not  only 
by  analogy,  but  also  by  the  still  subsisting  practice  in  the  French 


VERSIFICATION  OF  CHAUCfR.  8? 


was  antiently  pronounced,  but  obscurely,  like  the  e 
feminine  of  the  French. 

§  XVII.  The  third  kind  of  irregularity,  to  which 
an  English  verse  is  liable,  is  from  the  Accents  being 
misplaced.  The  restoring  of  Chaucer's  words  to 
their  just  number  of  syllables,  by  the  methods  which 
have  been  pointed  out  above,  will  often  be  of  signal 
service  in  restoring  his  accents  also  to  their  proper 
places ;  but  further,  in  many  words,  we  must  be 
cautious  of  concluding  too  hastily  that  Chaucer  ac 
cented  the  same  syllables  that  we  do.  On  the  con 
trary,  I  am  persuaded  that  in  his  French  words  he 
most  commonly  laid  his  accent  according  to  the 
French  custom  (upon  the  last  syllable,  or  the  last 
but  one  in  words  ending  in  e  feminine),  which,  as  is 
well  known,  is  the  very  reverse  of  our  practice. 
Thus  in  ver.  3.  he  uses  licour  for  liquour ;  ver.  11. 
cordges  for  courages ;  ver.  11.  again,  cordge  for  cou 
rage  ;  ver.  37.  res6n  for  reason ;  ver.  77.  vidge  for 
vdyage ;  ver.  109,10.  visage — usage  for  visage,  usage ; 

language.  So  Chaucer  certainly  pronounced  the  words,  jugement, 
ver.  780.  807.  820.  commandement,  ver.  2871.  2981.  amendment, 
ver.  4183.  pavement,  amsenent,  ver.  4505,  6.  Even  Spenser  in 
the  same  Canto  (the  8th  of  B.  v.)  uses  attonement  and  avengement, 
as  words  of  four  syllables;  [St.  21.  8. — 30.  5.]  and  Wallis  takes 
notice  that  the  middle  e  in  commandement  was  pronounced  in  his 
time. 


&8  ESSAY  ON   THE  LANGUAGE  AND 


ver.  14O.  manure  for  manner;  ver.  186.  lalfulre  for 
labour  ;  ver.  204.  preldt  for  prelate ;  ver.  21 1 .  latigage 
for  language ;  ver.  '212.  maridge  for  marriage;  ver. 
216.  contrfa  for  country ;  avantdge,  ver.  2449.  4566; 
brocdge,  ver.  3375;  forage,  ver.  3166;  lindge,  ver. 
4270.  5419;  servdge,  ver.  1948.  4788;  costdge,  ver. 
5831 ;  pardge,  ver.  5332 ;  and  so  through  the  whole 
work. 

In  the  same  manner  he  accents  the  last  Syllable 
of  the  Participle  Present,  as,  ver.  885,  6.  wedding 
— coming  for  wadding — criming ;  ver.  903.  living  for 
living ;  ver.  907,  8.  coming — crying  for  criming — cry 
ing  ;  ver.  998.  brenmng  for  brdnning,  &c.  and  as  he 
does  this  in  words  of  Saxon  as  well  as  of  French 
growth,  I  should  suppose  that  the  old  Participle  of 
the  present  tense,  ending  in  and,  was  originally  ac 
cented  upon  that  syllable,  as  it  certainly  continued 
to  be  by  the  Scottish  Poets  a  long  time  after  Chau 
cer.  See  Bp.  Douglas,  Virg.  p.  18.  ver.  18.  Spryn- 
gand;  ver.  51.  Berand ;  p.  27.  ver.  49.  Fleand;  p. 
29.  ver.  10.  Seand. 

These  instances  are  all  taken  from  the  Riming 
syllables  (where  a  strong  accent  is  indispensably 
necessary)  in  order  to  prove  beyond  contradiction, 
that  Chaucer  frequently  accented  his  words  in  the 
French  manner.  But  if  he  followed  this  practice  at 


VERSIFICATION  OV  CHAUCER.  89 


the  end  of  his  verses,  it  is  more  than  probable  that 
he  did  the  same  in  the  middle,  whenever  it  gave  a 
more  harmonious  flow  to  his  metre;  and  therefore 
in  ver.  4.  instead  of  vertue,  I  suppose  he  pronounced, 
vertue;  in  ver.  11.  instead  of  nature,  nature ;  in  ver. 
25.  instead  ofave'nture,  aventure;  in  ver.  46.  instead 
of  honour,  honour,  &c. 

It  may  be  proper  however  to  observe,  that  we  are 
not  to  expect  from  Chaucer  that  regularity  in  the 
disposition  of  his  accents,  which  the  practice  of  our 
greatest  Poets  in  the  last  and  the  present  century 
has  taught  us  to  consider  as  essential  to  harmonious 
(73)  versification.  None  of  his  masters,  either 
French  or  Italian,  had  set  him  a  pattern  of  exact 
ness  (74)  in  this  respect ;  and  it  is  rather  surprizing, 

(73)  It  is  agreed,  I  believe,  that,  in  our  Heroic  Metre,  those 
Verses  (considered  singly)  are  the  most  harmonious,  in  which  the 
Accents  fall  upon  the  even  Syllables;  but  it  has  never  (that  I 
know)  been  denned,  how  far  a  verse  may  vary  from  this  its  most 
perfect  form,  and  yet  remain  a  verse.     On  the  tenth  (or  riming) 
syllable  a  strong  Accent  is  in  all  cases  indispensably  required :  and 
in  order  to  make  the  line  tolerably  harmonious,  it  seems  necessary 
that  at  least  two  mare  of  the  even  syllables  should  be  accented,  the 

fourth  being  (almost  always)  one  of  them.  Milton  however  has 
not  subjected  his  verse  even  to  these  rules ;  and  particularly  (either 
by  negligence  or  design)  he  has  frequently  put  an  unaccented  syl 
lable  in  the  fourth  place.  See  P.  L.  b.  iii.  36.  586.  b.  v.  413. 
750.  874. 

(74)  It  has  been  suggested  above,  that  Chaucer  probably  copied 


90  ESSAY  ON  THE  LANGUAGE  AND 


that,  without  rule  or  example  to  guide  him,  he  has 
so  seldom  failed  to  place  his  accents  in  such  a  man 
ner,  as  to  produce  the  cadence  best  suited  to  the 
nature  of  his  verse. 

§  XVIII.  I  shall  conclude  this  long  and  (I  fear) 
tedious  Essay,  with  a  Grammatical  and  Metrical 
Analysis  of  the  first  eighteen  lines  of  the  Canter 
bury  Tales.  This  will  afford  me  an  an  opportunity 
of  illustrating  at  once  a  considerable  part  of  that 
Theory,  which  I  have  ventured  to  propose  in  the 
preceding  pages,  with  regard  to  the  Language  and 
Versification  of  Chaucer.  The  remainder  I  shall 
•take  occasion  to  explain  in  a  few  notes  upon  par 
ticular  passages. 

his  Heroic  Metre  from  Boccace.  But  neither  Boccace  nor  any 
of  the  older  Italian  Poets  are  exact  in  the  disposition  of  their  ac 
cents.  Though  their  Hendecasyllable  Metre  is  allowed  by  the 
best  Critics  to  be  derived  from  the  Trimeter  Iambic  Catalectic, 
the  perfection  of  it  has  never  been  determined  (like  that  of  our 
Heroic  Metre)  to  consist  in  the  conformity  of  its  Accents  to  the 
pure  Iambic  measure.  [Quadno,  L.  ii.  Dist.  iii.  c.  iv.  Part  i.] 
Nor  does  the  King  of  Navarre  always  dispose  his  Accents  more 
agreeably  to  our  present  notions.  It  is  probable,  I  think,  that 
some  fundamental  differences  in  the  three  languages  may  have 
led  each  of  the  three  nations  to  prefer  a  different  form  of  construct 
ing  the  same  kind  of  verse. 


VERSIFICATION  OF  CHAUCEH.  91 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 

I.  '  tVhdnne  that  April  with  his  2  shoures  3  s6te 

II.  The  droughte  of  March  hath  lp  freed  to  the *  rdte, 
III.  And  bathed  every  veine  in  *swiche  3  licour, 

IV*  Of  whiche  '  vertue  engendred  is  the  flotir ; 
V.  Whan  Zephirus  eke  with  his  »  &6te  brethe 
VI.  '  Enspfoed  hath  in  every  holt  and  hethe 

1.  1.  Whanne,  SAX.  Hfrsenne,  is  so  seldom  used  as  a  Dis 
syllable  by  Chaucer,  that  lor  some  time  1  bad  great  doubts  about 
the  true  reading  of  this  line.     1  now  believe  that  it  is  right,  as 
here  printed,  and  that  the  same  word  is  to  be  pronounced  as  a 
Dissyllable  in  ver.  703. 

But  with  these  relikes  whanne  that  he  fond — 
Thanne,  a  word  of  the  same  form,  occurs  more  frequently  as  a 
Dissyllable.  See  ver.  12260.  12506.  12721.  13924.  15282. 

2.  Shoures,  Dis.  PI.  N.  See  above,  p.  80. — 3.  Sote.  See  ver.  V. 
II..  1.  Perced,  Dis.   Participle  of  the  Past  Time.  See  above, 

p.  80. — 2.  Rote ;  root. 

III.  1.  Bathed,  Dis.  See  II.  1. — 2.  Swiche,  such ;  from  Swillte, 
SAX. — 3..licour,  FR.  has  the  accent  upon  the  last  syllable,  after 
the  French  mode. 

IV.  1.  Vtrtfie,  FR.  may  be  accented  in  the  same   manner. 
There  is  another  way  of  preserving  the  harmony  of  this  verse,  by 
making  whiche  (from  whilke,  SAX.)  a  Dissyllable.     See  ver.  1014. 
3921.  5488.  6537.   Vertue  may  then  be  pronounced,  as  it  is  now, 
with  the  accent  on  the  first ;  the  second  syllable  being  incorpo 
rated  with  the  first  of  engendred. 

V.  1.  Sote,  swote,  swete ;  sweet,   Dis.     See  ver.  3219.  3699. 
3724.  3765.  3790. 

VI.  1.   Enspired,  Tris.  Part,  nf  Past  Time. 


92  ESSAY  ON  THE  LANGUAGE  AND 


VII.  The  tendre  l  crtfppes,  and  the  2  ytfnge  sonne 
VIII.  Hath  in  the  Ram  his  '  hdlfe  cours  2  yr6nne, 
IX.  And  l  smdle  2  Joules  8  mdken  melodie, 
X.  That '  sttpen  2  dlle  night  with  open  eye, 
XL  So  priketh  '  Mm  *  nature  in  *  Mr  4  cordges ; 

VII.  1.  Croypes,  Dis.  Pi.  W.  as  sfwures.  I.  2. — 2.  Fonge,  Dis. 
See  ver.  213.  666.  1013.  3233,  73.     It  is  used  as  a  Dissyllable 
in  the  Ormulum.  Col.  230. 

That  was  god  bisne  ful  i  wis  till  ure  yunge  genge. 
Strange  and  Longe   are  pronounced  in  the  same   manner.     See 
ver.  2375.  2640,  6. 3069.  3438.  3682. 

VIII.  1.  Halfe,  or  Halve,  Dis.  The  original  word  is  Halfen. 
So  Selve,from  Self  en,  is  a  Dissyllable,  ver.  2862.  4535. 

2.  Yronnc ;  Run.  Part,  of  the  Past  Time,  with  the  Saxon  pre 
positive  particle  Je,  which  in  the  Mss.  of  Chaucer  is  universally 
expressed  by  y,  or  i.  In  thb  Edition,  for  the  sake  of  perspicuity, 
y  only  is  used. 

IX.  1.  Smale,   Dis.     See   ver.   146.   2078.  6897. 10207 2. 

Fouks,  Dis.  as  Shoures.  1.2. — 3.  Maken;  make.     Pi.  N.  of  the 
Pres.  Tense.    See  above,  p.  31. 

X.  1.  Slepen,  as  Maken.  IX.  3.— 2.  4//e,  Dis.     See  ver.  76. 
348.  536.  1854.  2102. 

XI.  1.  Hem;  Them.     It  is  constantly  used  so  by  Chaucer.  2. 
Nature  should  perhaps  be  accented  on  the  last  syllable  (or  rather 
the  last  but  one,  supposing  it  a  Trisyllable),  after  the  French  man* 
ner,  though  in  the  present  case  the  verse  will  be  sufficiently  har 
monious  if  it  be  accented  on  the  fast.    That  Chaucer   did  often 
accent  it  after  the  French  manner  appears  from  ver.  8778.  9842. 
11657.  11945.  12229.     In  the  same  manner  he  accents  Figure, 
ver.  2037.  2045.  Mesure,  ver.  8132.  8498.     Asure,  Stature,  ver. 
8130,  3.      Peinture,  ver.  11967.     Aventure,  ver.  1188.    1237. 
Creature,  ver.  2397.  4884.  and  many  other  words  of  the  same 


VERSIFICATION  OF  CHAUCER.  93 


XII.  Than  !  I6ngen  folk  to  2  g6n  on  pilgrimages, 

XIII.  And    '  pdlmer'es   for   to   2  s^fcen   3  strdnge 

strondes, 

XIV.  To  '  se'rve 2  hdlwes 3  couthe  in  sondry  londes  ; 

form,  derived  from  the  French  language. — 3.  Hir;  Their.  The 
•  Possessive  Pronoun  of  the  third  Person  Plural  is  variously  written, 
Hir,  Hire,  Her,  and  Here  ;  not  only  in  different  Mss.  but  even  in 
the  same  page  of  good  Mss.  There  seems  to  be  no  reason  for  per 
petuating  varieties  of  this  kind,  which  can  only  have  taken  their 
rise  from  the  unsettled  state  of  our  Orthography  before  the  inven 
tion  of  Printing,  and  which  now  contribute  more  than  any  real 
alteration  of  the  language  to  obscure  the  sense  of  our  old  Authors. 
In  this  edition  therefore,  Hir  is  constantly  put  to  signify  Their ; 
and  Hire  to  signify  Her,  whether  it  be  the  Oblique  case  of  the 
Personal  Pronoun  She,  or  the  Possessive  of  the  same  Pronoun. — 
4.  Cordges,  FR.  Is  to  be  accented  on  the  Penultima.  See  before, 
p.  87.  and  also  ver.  1947.  2215. 

XII.  1.  Longen,  as  Maken.  IX.  3. — 2.  Gon,  Infinitive  Mode 
of  Go,  terminated  in  n  according  to  the  Saxon  form.     See  above, 
p.  31. 

XIII.  1.  Pdlmer'es,  Dis.  the  e  of  the  termination  being  cut  out 
by  Syncope,  as  it  generally  is  in  Plural  Nouns  of  three  Syllables, 
accented  upon  the  first,  and  in  the  Past  Tenses  and  their  Parti 
ciples  of  Verbs,  of  the  same  description,  ending  in  ed.     The  rea 
son  seems  to  be,  that,  where  the  Accent  is  placed  so  early,  we  can 
not  pronounce  the  [final  syllables  fully,  without  laying  more  stress 
upon  them,  than  they  can  properly  bear. — 2.  Seken,  as  Gon.  XII. 
2.— 3.  Strange,  Dis.  FR.    See  before,  p.  82. 

XIV.  1.  Serve,  Dis.  from  Serven,  the  n  being  thrown  away  be 
fore  h.     See  above,  p.  31.  and  84.— 2.   Halves,  Sax.  J>algej*. 
The  Saxon  J  is  changed   into  w,  as  in  sorwe,  morwe,   and  some 
others  ;  though  it  generally  passes  into  y.     The  derivatives  from 


ESSAY  ON   THE  LANGUAGE,  &c. 


XV.  And  specially'  from  every  2  shires  ende 
XVI.  Of  EngleMnd  to  Canterbury  2  they  wdnde, 

XVII.  The  holy  blisful  martyr  for  to  seke, 
XVIII.  That '  h<?m  hath  2  h6lpen,  whan  that  they 

were  3  s^ke. 

this  same  word  afford  us  instances  of  both  forras  ;  Holyness,  Holy- 
day  All  Hallows-day. — 3.  Couthe ;  known,  The  Participle  of  the 
Past  Time  from  Cmmen,  to  know.  See  before,  n.  35. 

XV.  1.  Shires,  Dis.  Genitive  Case  Sing-     See  before,  p.  80. 

XVI.  1.  Englelond,  Trisyllable,  from  the  Saxon  Gnjlalanba. 
— 2.  The  last  foot  consists  of  three  Syllables. 

—  to  Can  |  terbfir  |  y  they  w6nde. 
See  above,  n  66. 

XVIII.  1.  Hem;  Them.  See  XI.  1.— 2.  Holpen,  the  Participle 
of  the  Past   Time  from  the  Irregular  Verb    Help.    See  before,  n. 
34. — 3.  Seke;  Sick.     As  Chaucer  usually  writes  this  word  Sike 
we  may  suppose  that  in  this  instance  he  has  altered  the  Ortho 
graphy  in  order  to  make  the  Rime  more  exact ;  a  liberty,  with 
which  he  sometimes  indulges  himself,  though  much  more  sparingly 
than  his   contemporary   Poets       The  Saxon   writers  afford    au 
thorities  to  justify  either  method  of  spelling,  as  they  use  both 
Seoca  and  Sioca. 

I  have  hitherto  considered  these  verses  as  consisting  of  ten 
Syllables  only  ;  but  it  is  impossible  not  to  observe,  that,  according 
to  the  rules  of  pronunciation  established  above,  all  of  them,  ex 
cept  the  3d  and  4th,  consist  really  of  eleven  syllables.  This  is 
evident  at  first  sight  in  ver.  13,  14,  15,  16,  and  might  be  shewn 
as  clearly,  by  authority  or  analogy,  in  the  others;  but  as  the 
eleventh  syllable,  in  our  versification,  being  unaccented,  may  al 
ways,  I  apprehend,  be  absent  or  present  without  prejudice  to  the 
metre,  there  does  not  seem  to  be  any  necessity  for  pointing  it  out, 
in  every  particular  instance. 


AN  INTRODUCTORY   DISCOURSE   TO  THE 
CANTERBURY  TALES. 


THE  CONTENTS. 

THE  Dramatic  form  of  Novel-writing  invented  by  Boccace. 
The  Decameron  a  species  of  Comedy.  §  I.  The  Canterbury  Tales 
composed  in  imitation  of  the  Decameron.  Design  of  this  Dis 
course  to  give  1.  the  general  Plan  of  them,  and  2.  a  review  of  the 
parts  contained  in  this  Edition.  §  II.  The  GENERAL  PLAN  of 
the  Canterbury  Tales,  as  originally  designed  by  Chaucer.  §  III. 
Parts  of  this  plan  executed.  §  IV.  Review  of  the  parts  contained 
in  this  Edition. — THE  PROLOGUE.  The  Time  of  the  Pilgrimage. 
§  V.  The  Number  of  the  Company.  §  VI.  Their  Agreement  to 
tell  Tales  for  their  diversion  upon  their  journey.  §  VII.  Their 
Characters.  Their  setting  out.  The  Knight  appointed  by  lot  to 
tell  the  first  Tale.  §  VIII.  THE  KNIGHTES  TALE  copied  from 
the  Theseida  of  Boccace.  A  summary  account  of  the  Theseida. 
§  IX.  The  Monk  called  upon  to  tell  a  Tale ;  interrupted  by  the 
Miller.  §  X.  THE  MILLER'S  TALE.  $  XI.  THE  REVES  TALE. 
The  principal  incidents  taken  from  an  old  French  Fabliau.  §  XII. 
THE  COKES  TALE,  imperfect  in  all  the  Mss.  No  foundation  for 
ascribing  the  Story  of  Gamelyn  to  Chaucer.  §  XIII.  THE  PRO 
LOGUE  to  the  MAN  OF  LAWES  Tale.  The  progress  of  the  Pil 
grims  upon  their  journey.  A  reflection  seemingly  leveled  at 
Gower.  §  XIV.  THE  MAN  OF  LAWES  TALE  taken  from  Gower, 
who  was  not  the  inventor  of  it.  A  similar  story  in  a  Lay  of  Bre- 
tagne.  $  XV.  Reasons  for  placing  the  Wife  of  Bathes  Prologue 
next  to  the  Man  of  Lawes  Tale.  §  XVI.  THE  WIFE  OF  BATHES 
PROLOGUE.  §  XVII.  THE  WIFE  OF  BATHES  TALE  taken  from 
the  story  of  Jlorent  in  Gower,  or  from  some  older  narrative.  The 
fable  much  improved  by  Chaucer.  §  XVIII.  THE  TALES  OF 


96  INTRODUCTORY  DISCOURSE  TO 


THE  FRERE  AND  THE  SOMPNOUR.  §  XIX.  THE  CLERKES 
TA  LE  said  by  Chaucer  to  be  borrowed  from  Petrarch,  whose  work 
upon  this  subject  is  a  mere  translation  from  Boccace.  §  XX.  Rea 
sons  for  changing  the  order  of  the  three  last  Stanzas  of  the  Ballade 
at  the  end  of  the  Clerkes  Tale,  and  for  placing  the  Prologue  to  the 
Marchants  Tale  immediately  after  them.  §  XXI.  THE  MAR 
CH  ANTS  TA  LE.  The  adventure  of  the  Pear-tree  in  the  Latin  fables 
of  Adolphus.  The  Pluto  and  Proserpine  of  Chaucer  revived  by 
Shakespeare  under  the  names  of  Oberon  and  Titania.  §  XXII.  A 
new  PROLOGUE  TO  THE  SQUIERS  TALE  (now  first  printed)  con 
necting  it  with  the  Marchants  Tale.  §  XXIII.  THE  SQUIERS 
TALE,  probably  never  finished  by  Chaucer-  §  XXIV.  THE 
FRANKELEINS  PROLOGUE,  attributed  to  the  Marchant  in  the 
common  editions-  Reasons  for  restoring  it  to  the  Frankelein. 
§  XXV.  THE  FRANKELEINS  TALE  taken  from  a  Lay  ofBretagne. 
The  same  story  twice  told  by  Boccace.  §  XXVI.  Reasons  for  re 
moving  the  Tales  of  the  Nonne  and  Chanons  Yeman  to  the  end  of 
the  Nonnes  Preestes  Tale.  §  XXVII.  Doubts  concerning  the  Pro 
logue  to  the  Doctours  Tale.  §  XXVIII.  THE  DOCTOURS  TALE. 
The  story  of  Virginia  from  Livy.  §  XXIX.  THE  PARDOJ.ERS 
PROLOGUE.  The  proper  use  of  the  Prologue  in  this  work.  The 
outline  of  THE  PARDONERS  TALE  in  the  Cento  Novelle  Antiche. 
§  XXX.  Reasons  for  transferring  to  the  Shipman  a  Prologue 
which  has  usually  been  prefixed  to  the  Tale  of  the  Squier.  THE 
SHIPMANS  TALE  probably  borrowed  from  some  French  Fablecur, 
older  than  Boccace.  §  XXXI.  THE  PRIORESSES  PROLOGUE 
AND  TALE  §  XXXII.  Chaucer  called  upon  for  his  Tale.  His 
RIME  OF  SIRE  THOPAS  a  ridicule  upon  the  old  metrical  Roman 
ces.  §  XXXIII.  His  other  Tale  of  MELIBEE  in  Prose,  a  transla 
tion  from  the  French.  §  XXXIV.  THE  MONKES  TALE,  upon  the 
plan  of  Boccace '«  work  De  Casibus  virorum  illustrium.  §  XXXV. 
THE  TALE  OF  THE  NONNES  FREEST.  The  ground-work  bor 
rowed  from  a  Fable  of  Marie,  a  French  Poetess.  §  XXXVI.  THE 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES.  97 


NONNES  TALE  not  connected  with  any  preceding  Tale.  Trans 
lated  from  the  Life  of  St.  Cecilia  in  the  Golden  Legende.  Origi 
nally  composed  as  a  separate  work.  $  XXXVII  THE  TALE 
OF  THE  CHANONS  YEMAN,  a  satire  against  the  Alchemists. 
§  XXXVIII.  THE  MANCIPLES  PROLOGUE.  The  Pilgrims  ad 
vanced  to  a  place  called  "  Bob  up  and  down."  THE  MANCIPLES 
_  TALE,  the  fable  of  Coronis'm Ovid.  §  XXXIX.  The  Poem, called 
"  The  Plowman's  Tale,"  why  omitted  in  this  edition.  §  XL.  THE 
PERSON'S  PROLOGUE.  The  time  of  the  day.  THE  PERSON'S 
TALE,  a  Treatise  on  Penance.  §  XLI.  Remarks  upon  what  is  com 
monly  called  the  RETRACTATION  at  the  end  of  the  Person's  Tale. 
Conclusion.  $  XLII. 

§  I.  The  Dramatic  form,  which  Boccace  gave  to 
his  collection  of  Tales,  or  Novels,  about  the  middle 
of  the  fourteenth  Century  (1),  must  be  allowed  to 

(1)  The  Action  of  the  Decameron  being  supposed  in  1348,  the 
year  of  the  great  pestilence,  it  is  probable  that  Boccace  did  not  set 
about  his  work  till  after  that  period.  How  soon  he  compleated  it 
is  uncertain.  It  should  seem  from  the  Introduction  to  the  Fourth 
Day,  that  a  part  (containing  perhaps  the  three  first  Days)  was 
published  separately;  for  in  that  Introduction  he  takes  pains  to 
answer  the  censures,  which  had  been  passed  upon  him  by  several 
persons,  who  had  read  his  Novels.  One  of  the  censures  is,  "  that 
it  did  not  become  his  age  to  write  for  the  amusement  of  women, 
&c."  In  his  answer  he  seems  to  allow  the  fact,  that  he  was  rather 
an  old  fellow,  but  endeavours  to  justify  himself  by  the  examples  of 
"  Guido  Cavalcanti  et  Dante  Alighieri  gia  vecchi  et  Messer  Cino 
da  Pistoia  vecchissimo."  It  appears  from  a  passage  in  the  La- 
berinto  d'Amore  [Ed.  1723.  t.  iii.  p.  24.],  that  Boccace  considered 
himself  as  an  elderly  man,  when  he  was  a  little  turned  of  forty  ; 
and  therefore  the  publication  of  the  first  part  of  the  Decameron 
VOL.  I.  H 


98  INTRODUCTORY   DISCOURSE  TO 


have  been  a  capital  improvement  of  that  species  of 
amusing  composition.  The  Decameron  in  that  re 
spect  (not  to  mention  many  others)  has  the  same 
advantage  over  the  Cento  Novelle  antiche,  which  are 
supposed  to  have  preceded  it  in  point  of  time,  that 
a  regular  Comedy  will  necessarily  have  over  an 
equal- number  of  single  unconnected  Scenes.  Per 
haps  indeed  there  would  be  no  great  harm,  if  the 
Critics  would  permit  us  to  consider  the  Decameron, 
and  other  compositions  of  that  kind,  in  the  light  of 
Comedies  not  intended  for  the  stage :  at  least  we 
may  venture  to  assume,  that  the  closer  any  such 
composition  shall  copy  the  most  essential  forms  of 
Comedy ;  the  more  natural  and  defined  the  Plan 
shall  be ;  the  more  the  Characters  shall  be  diversi 
fied  ;  the  more  the  Tales  shall  be  suited  to  the  Cha 
racters  ;  so  much  the  more  conspicuous  wiH  be  the 
skill  of  the  Writer,  and  his  work  approach  the 
nearer  to  perfection. 

may  very  well  have  been,  as  Salviati  has  fixed  it,  [V.  Manni,  1st. 
del  Decani,  p.  144  ]  in  1353,  when  Boccace  was  just  forty  years 
of  age.  If  we  consider  the  nature  of  the  work,  and  that  the  Au 
thor,  in  his  Conclusion,  calls  it  repeatedly  "  lungafatica"  and  says, 
that  "  molto  tempo"  had  passed  between  the  commencement  and 
the  completion  of  it,  we  can  hardly,  I  think,  suppose  that  it  was 
finished  in  less  than  ten  years  j  which  will  bring  the  publication  of 
the'  entire  collection  of  Novels  (as  we  now  have  it)  down  to  1358. 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES.  99 


§  II.  The  Canterbury  Tales  are  a  work  of  the 
same  nature  with  the  Decameron,  and  were,  in  all 
probability,  composed  in  imitation  of  it,  though 
upon  a  different  and  (in  my  opinion)  an  improved 
plan.  It  would  be  easy  to  shew,  that,  in  the  seve 
ral  points  abovementioned,  Chaucer  has  either  been 
more  judicious,  or  more  fortunate,  than  his  master 
Boccace  ;  but  (waving  for  the  present  (2)  that  dis 
quisition)  I  shall  proceed  to  the  immediate  object 
of  this  Discourse,  which  is,  in  the  first  place,  to  lay 

(2)  I  will  only  just  mention  w  hat  appear  to  me  to  be  fundamen 
tal  defects  in  the  Decameron.  In  the  first  place,  the  Action  is  in 
definite  ;  not  limited  by  its  own  nature,  but  merely  by  the  will  of 
the  Author.  It  might,  if  he  rhad  been  so  pleased,  have  as  well 
comprehended  twenty,  or  a  hundred  days,  as  ten ;  and  therefore, 
though  some  frivolous  reasons  are  assigned  for  the  return  of  the 
Company  to  Florence,  we  see  too  plainly,  that  the  true  reason  was, 
that  the  budget  of  Novels  was  exhausted.  Not  to  mention,  that 
every  day  after  the  first  may  properly  be  considered  as  containing 
a  new  Action,  or,  what  is  worse,  a  repetition  of  the  Action  of  the 
former  day.  The  second  defect  is  in  the  Characters,  which  are  so 
nearly  resembling  to  each  other,  in  age,  rank,  and  even  natural 
disposition,  that,  if  they  had  been  strictly  supported,  their  conver 
sation  must  have  been  incapable  of  that  variety,  which  is  necessary 
to  carry  the  reader  through  so  long  a  work.  The  third  defect  has 
arisen  from  the  author's  attempt  to  remedy  the  second.  In  order 
to  diversify  and  enliven  his  narrations,  he  has  made  a  circle  of  vir 
tuous  ladies  and  polite  gentlemen  hear  and  relate  ill  their  turns  a 
number  of  stories,  which  cannot  with  any  degree  of  probability  be 
supposed  to  have  been  suffered  in  such  an  assembly. 


100  INTRODUCTORY   DISCOURSE  TO 


before  the  Reader  the  general  plan  of  the  Canter 
bury  Tales,  as  it  appears  to  have  been  originally  de 
signed  by  Chaucer ;  and,  secondly,  to  give  a  parti 
cular  review  of  the  several  parts  of  that  work, 
which  are  come  down  to  us,  as  they  are  published 
in  this  edition. 

§  III.  THE  GENERAL  PLAN  of  the  Canterbury 
Tales  may  be  learned  in  a  great  measure  from  the 
Prologue,  which  Chaucer  himself  has  prefixed  to 
them.  He  supposes  there,  that  a  company  of  Pil 
grims  going  to  Canterbury  assemble  at  an  Inn  in 
Southwark,  and  agree,  that,  for  their  common 
amusement  on  the  road,  each  of  them  shall  tell  at 
least  one  Tale  in  going  to  Canterbury,  and  another 
in  coming  back  from  thence ;  and  that  he,  who  shall 
tell  the  best  Tales,  shall  be  treated  by  the  rest  with 
a  supper  upon  their  return  to  the  same  Inn.  This 
is  shortly  the  Fable.  The  Characters  of  the  Pil 
grims  are  as  various  as,  at  that  time,  coud  be  found 
in  the  several  departments  of  middle  life ;  that  is,  in 
fact,  as  various  as  coud,  with  any  probability,  be 
brought  together,  so  as  to  form  one  company ;  the 
highest  and  the  lowest  ranks  of  society  being  ne 
cessarily  excluded.  It  appears  further,  that  the 
design  of  Chaucer  was  not  barely  to  recite  the  Tales 
told  by  the  Pilgrims,  but  also  to  describe  their 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES.  101 


journey,  And  all  the  remenant  of  their  pilgrimage 
[ver.  726.]  ;  including,  probably,  their  adventures  at 
Canterbury  as  well  as  upon  the  road.  If  we  add, 
that  the  Tales,  besides  being  nicely  adapted  to  the 
Characters  of  their  respective  Relaters,  were  in 
tended  to  be  connected  together  by  suitable  intro 
ductions,  and  interspersed  with  diverting  episodes  ; 
and  that  the  greatest  part  of  them  was  to  have  been 
executed  in  Verse ;  we  shall  have  a  tolerable  idea  of 
the  extent  and  difficulty  of  the  whole  undertaking : 
and  admiring,  as  we  must,  the  vigour  of  that  genius, 
which  in  an  advanced  age  (3)  coud  begin  so  vast  a 

(3)  Chaucer  was  born  in  1328,  and  it  is  most  probable,  I  think, 
that  he  did  not  begin  his  Canterbury  Tales  before  1382,  at  the 
earliest.  My  reason  is  this.  The  Queen,  who  is  mentioned  in  the 
Legende  of  Good  Women,  ver.  496.  was  certainly  Anne  of  Bohe 
mia,  the  first  Queen  of  Richard  II.  She  was  not  married  to  Ri 
chard,  till  the  beginning  of  1382,  so  that  the  Legende  cannot  pos 
sibly  be  supposed  of  an  earlier  date  than  that  year.  In  the  Le 
gende  [ver.  329 — 332.  ver.  417 — 430.]  Chaucer  has  enumerated, 
I  believe,  all  the  considerable  works  which  he  had  then  composed. 
It  was  to  his  purpose  not  to  omit  any.  He  not  only  does  not  men 
tion  the  Canterbury  Tales,  but  he  expressly  names  the  story  of  Pa- 
lumon  and  Arcite  and  the  Life  of  Saint  Cecilia,  both  which  now 
make  part  of  them,  as  separate  compositions.  I  am  persuaded 
therefore,  that  in  1382  the  work  of  the  Canterbury  Tales  was  not 
begun ;  and  if  we  look  further  and  consider  the  troubles  in  which 
Chaucer  was  involved,  for  the  five  or  six  following  years,  by  his 
connexions  with  John  of  Northampton,  we  can  hardly  suppose  that 


1O2  INTRODUCTORY  DISCOURSE  TO 


work,  we  shall  rather  lament  than  be  surprized  that 
it  has  been  left  imperfect. 

|  IV.  In  truth,  if  we  compare  those  parts  of  the 
Canterbury  Tales,  of  which  we  are  in  possession,, 
with  the  sketch  which  has  been  just  given  of  the 
intended  whole,  it  will  be  found  that  more  than  one 
half  is  wanting.  The  Prologue  we  have,  perhaps 
nearly  complete,  and  the  greatest  part  of  the  jour 
ney  to  Canterbury ;  but  not  a  word  of  the  transac 
tions  at  Canterbury,  or  of  the  journey  homeward, 
or  of  the  Epilogue,  which,  we  may  suppose,  was  to 
have  concluded  the  work,  with  an  account  of  the 
Prize-supper  and  the  separation  of  the  company. 
Even  in  that  part  which  we  have  of  the  journey  to 
Canterbury,  it  will  be  necessary,  in  the  following 
Review,  to  take  notice  of  certain  defects  and  incon 
sistencies,  which  can  only  be  accounted  for  upon 
the  supposition,  that  the  work  was  never  finished 
by  the  Author. 

§  V.  Having  thus  stated  the  general  Plan  of  the 
Canterbury  Tales,  I  shall  now,  according  to  my 
promise,  enter  upon  a  particular  Review  of  those 
parts  of  them,  which  are  published  in  this  edition, 
beginning  with  THE  PROLOGUE. 

it  was  much  advanced  before  1389,  the  sixty-first  year  of  the  au 
thor's  age. 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES.  103 


It  seems  to  have  been  the  intention  of  Chaucer, 
in  the  first  lines  of  the  Prologue,  to  mark  with  some 
exactness  the  time  of  his  supposed  pilgrimage ;  but 
unluckily  the  two  circumstances  of  his  description, 
which  were  most  likely  to  answer  that  purpose,  are 
each  of  them  irreconcileable  to  the  other.  When 
he  tells  us,  that  "  the  shours  of  April  had  perced  to 
the  rote  the  drought  of  March"  [ver.  1, 2.],  we  must 
suppose  (in  order  to  allow  due  time  for  such  an  ope 
ration)  that  April  was  far  advanced ;  while  on  the 
other  hand  the  place  of  the  Sun,  "  having  just  run 
half  his  course  in  the  Ram"  [ver.  7,  8.],  restrains 
us  to  some  day  in  the  very  latter  end  of  March ;  as 
the  Vernal  Equinox,  in  the  age  of  Chaucer,  accord 
ing  to  his  own  treatise  on  the  Astrolabe  (4),  was 
computed  to  happen  on  the  twelfth  of  March. 
This  difficulty  may  (and,  I  think,  should)  be  re 
moved  by  reading  in  ver.  8,  the  Bull,  instead  of 
the  Ram  (5).  All  the  parts  of  the  description  will 

(4)  In  this  particular  the  Editions  agree  with  the  Mss.  but  in 
general,  the  printed  text  of  this  Treatise  is  so  monstrously  incor 
rect,  that  it  cannot  be  cited  with  any  safety. 

(5)  This  correction  may  seem  to  be  authorised,  in  some  mea 
sure,  by  Lidgate,  who  begins  his  continuation  of  the  Canterbury 
Tales  in  this  manner. 

"  Whan  bright  Phebus  passed  was  the  Bam 
Midde  of  Aprill,  and  into  the  Bull  came." 


104  INTRODUCTORY  DISCOURSE  TO 


then  be  consistent  with  themselves,  and  with  an 
other  passage  [ver.  4425.],  where,  in  the  best  Mss, 
the  eighte  and  twenty  day  of  April  is  named  as  the 
day  of  the  journey  to  Canterbury. 

We  will  suppose  therefore,  that  the  preceding 
day,  the  seven  and  twentieth  of  April,  was  the  day 
on  which  the  company  assembled  at  the  Tabard. 
In  what  year  this  happened,  Chaucer  has  not  thought 
fit  to  inform  us  (6).  Either  he  did  not  think  it  ne-. 

But  the  truth  is,  that  Dan  John  wrote  for  the  most  part  in  a  great 
hurry,  and  consequently  without  much  accuracy.  In  the  account 
which  he  proceeds  to  give  of  Chaucer's  Tales,  he  not  only  con 
founds  the  circumstances  of  description  of  the  Sompnour  and  Par 
doner,  but  he  speaks  of  the  latter  as — 

Telling  a  tale  to  anger  with  the  Frere. 

Storie  of  Thebes,  ver.  32—5. 

(6)  It  is  clear,  that,  whether  the  Pilgrimage  were  real  or  ima 
ginary,  Chaucer,  as  a  Poet,  had  a  right  to  suppose  it  to  have  hap 
pened  at  the  time  which  he  thought  best.  He  was  only  to  take 
care,  when  the  time  was  once  fixed,  that  no  circumstances  were 
admitted  into  his  Poem,  which  might  clash,  or  be  inconsistent  with 
the  date  of  it.  When  no  particular  date  is  assigned  to  a  fable  of 
this  sort,  we  must  naturally  imagine  that  the  date  of  the  fable  co 
incides  with  that  of  the  composition ;  and  accordingly,  if  we  ex 
amine  the  Canterbury  Tales,  we  shall  not  find  any  circumstances 
which  do  not  perfectly  suit  with  that  period,  which  has  been  stated 
in  a  former  note  as  the  probable  time  of  Chaucer's  beginning  to 
compose  them.  The  latest  historical  fact  mentioned  in  them 
is  the  Insurrection  of  Jakke  Straw  [ver.  15400.]  which  hap- 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES.  105 


cessary  to  fix  that  point  at  all ;  or  perhaps  he  post 
poned  it,  till  the  completion  of  his  work  should 


pened  in  1381j  [this  passage  should  be  compared  with  the  n.  on 
ver.  14709,]  and  the  earliest,  in  which  any  person  of  the  Drama 
is  concerned,  is  the  siege  of  Algezir  [ver.  56,  7],  which  began  in 
August  1342,  and  ended,  with  the  taking  of  the  city,  in  March 
1344.  [Mariana,  I.  xvi.  c.  x.  xi.]  The  Knight  therefore  may  very 
well  be  supposed  to  have  been  at  that  siege,  and  also  upon  a 
Pilgrimage  to  Canterbury  in  1383,  or  there-abouts. 

They  who  are  disposed  to  believe  the  Pilgrimage  to  have  been 
real,  and  to  have  happened  in  1383,  may  support  their  opinion  by 
the  following  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  1383.'  Though  the  present  inscrip 
tion  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  as 
sured,  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  account  of  it  in  his 
Glossary,  v.  TABARD.  "  A  jaquet,  or  slevelesse  coate,  worne  in 
times  past  by  Noblemen  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  lodg 
ing  of  the  Abbot  of  Hyde  by  Winchester.  This  was  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  hath  bin 
much  decaied,  it  is  now  by  Master  J.  Preston,  with  the  Abbot's 
house  thereto  adjoyned,  newly  repaired,  and  with  convenient 
roomes  much  encreased,  for  the  receipt  of  many  guests." 


106  INTRODUCTORY   DISCOURSE  TO 


enable  him  to  assign  such  a  date  to  his  Fable,  as 
should  be  consistent  with  all  the  Historical  circum 
stances,  which  he  might  take  occasion  to  introduce 
into  it. 

§  VI.  A  second  point,  intended  to  be  defined  in 
the  Prologue,  is  the  number  of  the  company  ;  and 
this  too  has  its  difficulties.  They  are  said  in  ver.  24. 
to  have  been  nine  and  twenty,  but  it  is  not  clear 
whether  Chaucer  himself  is  included  in  that  number. 
They  might  therefore,  according  to  that  passage,  be 
thirty  ;  but  if  we  reckon  the  several  characters,  as 
they  are  enumerated  in  the  Prologue,  we  shall  find 

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  the  Talbot,  in  order  to  preserve 
the  antient  glory  of  the  House  notwithstanding  its  new  title.  Who 
ever  furnished  the  date,  must  be  allowed  to  have  at  least  invented 
plausibly. 

While  I  am  upon  the  subject  of  this  famous  Hostelry,  I  will  just 
add,  that  it  was  probably  parcel  of  two  tenements  which  appear  to 
have  been  conveyed  by  William  de  Ludegarsale  to  the  Abbot,  &c. 
de  Hydd  juxta  Wintom,  in  1306,  and  which  are  described  (in  a 
former  conveyance  there  recited)  to  extend  in  length,  "  a  commun> 
fossato  de  Suthwerke  versus  Orientem,  usque  Regiam  viam  de 
Suthwerke  versus  Occidentem."  Registrum  de  Hyde,  Ms.  Harl. 
1761.  fol.  166 — 173.  If  we  should  ever  be  so  happy  as  to  recover 
the  Account-books  of  the  Abbey  of  Hyde,  we  may  possibly  learn 
what  rent  Harry  Bailly  paid  for  his  inn,  and  many  other  important 
particulars. 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES.  107 


them  one  and  thirty;  1.   a  Knight;  2.  a  Squier; 
3.  aYeman;  4.  a  Prioresse ;  5.  an  other  Nonne; 
6.  7.  8.    Three  Preestes  ;  9.  a  Monk;   10.  a  Frere; 
11.  a  Marchant ;   12.  a  Clerk  of  Oxenforde  ;  13.  a 
Sergeant  of  the  Lawe;   14.  a  Frankelein;   15.   an 
Haberdasher;  16.  a  Carpenter ;   17-  aWebbe;18. 
aDeyer;  19.  aTapiser;  20.  a  Coke;  21.  a  Ship- 
man;  22.   a   Doctour  of  Physike  ;  23.    a  Wif  of 
Bathe;  24.  aPersone;  25.  a  Plowman;  26.  a  Reve; 
27-  a  Miller ;  28.  a  Sompnour ;  29.   a  Pardoner ; 
30.  a  Manciple  ;  31.  Chaucer  himself.     It  must  be 
observed  however  that  in  this  list  there  is  one  very 
suspicious  article,  which  is  that  of  the  three  Preestes. 
As  it  appears  evidently  to  have  been  the  design  of 
Chaucer  to  compose  his  company  of  individuals  of 
different  ranks,  in  order  to  produce  a  greater  va 
riety  of  distinct  characters,  we  can  hardly  conceive 
that  he  would,   in  this  single  instance,  introduce 
three,  of  the  same  profession,   without  any  discri 
minating   circumstances   whatever  ;   and   in    fact, 
when  the  Nonnes  Freest  is  called  upon  to  tell  his 
tale,  [ver.  14814.]  he  is  accosted  by  the  Host  in  a 
manner,  which  will  not  permit  us  to  suppose  that 
two  others  of  the  same  denomination  were  present. 
This  mubt  be  allowed  to  be  a  strong  objection  to 
the  genuineness  of  that  article  of  the  three  Preestes ; 


108  INTRODUCTORY  DISCOURSE  TO 


but  it  is  not  the  only  one.  All  the  other  Charac 
ters  are  particularly  described,  and  most  of  them 
very  much  at  large,  whereas  the  whole  that  is  said 
of  the  other  Nonne  and  the  three  Preestes  is  con 
tained  in  these  two  lines  [ver.  163,  4.]  at  the  end  of 
the  Prioresses  character : 

Another  Nonne  also  with  hire  had  she, 

That  was  hire  Chapellein,  and  Preestes  three. 

Where  it  is  also  observable,  that  the  single  cir 
cumstance  of  description  is  false  ;  for  no  Nonne 
coud  be  a  Chaplain.  The  chief  duty  of  a  Chaplain 
was  to  say  Mass,  and  to  hear  Confession,  neither 
of  which  offices  coud  regularly  be  performed  by  a 
Nonne,  or  by  any  woman  (7). 

It  should  seem  therefore  that  we  have  sufficient 
ground  to  reject  these  two  lines,  or  at  least  the  se- 

(7)  It  appears  that  some  Abbesses  did  at  one  time  attempt  to 
hear  the  Confessions  of  their  Nuns,  and  to  exercise  some  other 
smaller  parts  of  the  clerical  function  :  but  this  practice,  I  appre 
hend,  was  soon  stopped  by  Gregory  IX,  who  has  forbidden  it  in 
the  strongest  terms.  Decretal.  1.  v.  tit.  38.  c.  x.  Nova  quasdam 
nostris  sunt  auribus  intimata,  quod  Abbatissae  moniales  proprias 
benedicunt ;  ipsarnm  quoqut  confessiones  in  criminibus  audiunt,  et 
legentes  Evangelium  praesumunt  publice  praedicare :  Cum  igitur  id 
absonum  sit  et  pariter  absurdum,  Mandamus  quatenus  ne  id  de 
csetero  fiat  cunctis  firmiter  inhibere.  If  these  presumptuous  Ab 
besses  had  ventured  to  say  Mass,  his  Holyness  would  doubtless 
have  thundered  still  louder  against  them. 


TH£  CANTERBURY  TALES.  109 


cond,  as  an  interpolation  (8) ;  by  which  means  we 
shall  get-  rid  of  two  of  the  Preestes,  and  the  detail 
of  the  characters  will  agree  with  the  gross  number 
in  ver.  24,  Chaucer  himself  being  included  among 
the  nine  and  twenty.  As  Novellists  generally  de 
light  in  even  numbers,  it  is  not  improbable  that  the 
Host  was  intended  to  be  the  thirtieth.  Though 
not  under  the  same  obligation  with  the  other  Pil 
grims,  he  might  nevertheless  tell  his  Tale  among 
them  as  a  Volunteer. 

§  VII.  This  leads  me,   in  the  third   place,  to  ex- 

(8)  My  notion  (I  cannot  call  it  opinion)  of  the  matter  is  this; 
that  the  first  of  these  lines  did  really  begin  the  character  of  the 
Nonne,  which  Chaucer  had  originally  inserted  in  this  place  together 
with  that  of  the  Nonnes  Freest,  at  as  great  length  as  the  other  cha 
racters,  but  that  they  were  both  afterwards  expunged,  either  by 
himself,  or  (more  probably)  by  those  who  published  his  work  after 
his  death,  for  reasons  of  nearly  the  same  kind  with  those  which 
occasioned  the  suppression  of  the  latter  part  of  the  Cokes  Tale.  I 
suspect  our  bard  had  been  rather  too  gay  in  his  description  of  these 
two  Religious  persons.  See  a  little  concerning  the  Freest,  ver. 
15453—65. 

If  it  should  be  thought  improbable  that  an  interpolator  would 
insert  any  thing  so  absurd  and  contradictory  to  the  Author's  plan 
as  the  second  line,  I  beg  leave  to  suggest,  that  it  is  still  more  im 
probable  that  such  a  line  should  have  come  from  the  Author  him 
self;  and  further,  I  think  I  can  promise,  in  the  course  of  the  fol 
lowing  work,  to  point  out  several  other  undoubted  interpolations, 
which  are  to  the  full  as  absurd  as  the  subject  of  our  present  dis 
cussion. 


INTRODUCTORY   DISCOURSE  TO 


amine  what  the  agreement  was,  which  the  Pilgrims 
entered  into,  at  the  suggestion  of  the  Host,  with 
respect  to  the  number  of  Tales  that  each  person 
was  to  tell.  The  proposal  of  the  Host  stands  thus, 
with  very  little  variation,  in  all  the  Mss. 

This  is  the  point — [says  he,  ver.  792 — 5.] 

That  eche  of  you,  to  shorten  with  youre  way, 

In  this  viage  shall  tellen  tales  tway, 

To  Canterbury  ward,  I  mene  it  so, 

And  homeward  he  shal  tellen  other  two — 

From  this  passage  we  should  certainly  conclude, 
that  each  of  them  was  to  tell  two  tales  in  the  jour 
ney  to  Canterbury,  and  two  more  in  the  journey 
homeward:  but  all  the  other  passages,  in  which 
mention  is  made  of  this  agreement,  would  rather 
lead  us  to  believe,  that  they  were  to  tell  only  one 
Tale  in  each  journey;  and  the  Prologue  to  the 
Parsons  Tale  strongly  confirms  this  latter  supposi 
tion.  The  Host  says  there,  [ver.  17317.] 

"  Now  lacketh  us  no  tales  mo  than  on" — 

and  calling  upon  the  Parson  to  tell  this  one  tale, 
which  was  wanting,  he  says  to  him,  [ver.  17325.] 

— "  ne  breke  thon  not  our  play, 
For  every  man,  save  thou,  hath  told  his  tale.1' 

The  Parson  therefore  had  not  told  any  tale  before, 
and  only  one  tale  was  expected  from  him  (and 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES.  Ill 


consequently  from  each  of  the  others)  upon  that 
journey. 

It  is  true,  that  a  very  slight  alteration  of  the  pas 
sage  first  cited  would  reconcile  that  too  to  this 
hypothesis.  If  it  were  written — 

That  eche  of  you,  to  shorten  with  youre  way, 
In  this  viage  shal  tellen  tales  tway  ; 
To  Canterbury  ward,  I  mene  it,  o, 
And  homeward  he  shal  tell  another  to — 

the  original  proposition  of  the  Host  would  perfectly 
agree  with  what  appears  to  have  been  the  subse 
quent  practice.  However,  I  cannot  venture  to  pro 
pose  such  an  alteration  of  the  text,  in  opposition 
to  so  many  Mss.  some  of  them  of  the  best  note ; 
and  therefore  the  Reader,  if  he  is  so  pleased,  may 
consider  this  as  one  of  those  inconsistencies,  hinted 
at  above,  which  prove  too  plainly  that  the  author 
had  not  finished  his  work. 

§  VIII.  The  remainder  of  the  Prologue  is  em 
ployed  in  describing  the  Characters  of  the  Pilgrims, 
and  their  first  setting  out  upon  their  journey.  The 
little  that  it  may  be  necessary  to  say  in  illustration 
of  some  of  the  Characters  I  shall  reserve  for  the 
Notes.  The  circumstances  of  their  setting  out  are 
related  succinctly  and  naturally ;  and  the  contrivance 
of  appointing  the  Knight  by  lot  to  tell  the  first  tale 


112  INTRODUCTORY  DISCOURSE  TO 


is  a  happy  one,  as  it  affords  the  Author  the  oppor 
tunity  of  giving  his  work  a  splendid  opening,  and 
at  the  same  time  does  not  infringe  that  apparent 
equality,  upon  which  the  freedom  of  discourse  and 
consequently  the  ease  and  good  humour  of  every  so 
ciety  so  entirely  depends.  The  general  satisfaction, 
which  this  appointment  is  said  to  give  to  the  com 
pany,  puts  us  in  mind  of  a  similar  gratification  to 
the  secret  wishes  of  the  Grecian  army,  when  the 
lot  of  fighting  with  Hector  falls  to  Ajax;  though 
there  is  not  the  least  probability  that  Chaucer  had 
ever  read  the  Iliad,  even  in  a  translation. 

§  IX.  THE  KNIGHTES  TALE,  or  at  least  a  Poem 
upon  the  same  subject,  was  originally  composed  by 
Chaucer,  as  a  separate  work.  As  such  it  is  men 
tioned  by  him,  among  some  of  his  other  works,  in 
the  Legends  of  g ode  women,  [ver.  420,  1.]  under  the 
title  of  — "  al  the  love  of  Palamon  and  Arcite  Of 
Thebes,  though  the  storie  is  knowen  lite  — ;"  and 
the  last  words  seem  to  imply  that  it  had  not  made 
itself  very  popular.  It  is  not  impossible  that  at  first 
it  was  a  mere  translation  of  the  Theseida  of  Boc- 
cace,  and  that  its  present  form  was  given  to  it,  when 
Chaucer  determined  to  assign  it  the  first  place 
among  his  Canterbury  tales.  As  the  Theseida, 
upon  which  this  tale  is  entirely  founded,  is  very 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES.  113 


rarely  to  be  met  with  (9),  it  may  be  not  unpleasing 
to  the  Reader  to  see  here  a  short  summary  of  it, 

(9)  The  letter,  which  Boccace  sent  to  the  Fiammetta  with  this 
poem,  is  dated  di  Napoli  a  15.  d'Aprile  1341.  [Lettere  di  xiii. 
Uomini  Illust.  Ven.  1564.]  I  believe  that  date  is  a  true  one,  and 
it  is  remarkable,  as  being  the  very  year  and  month,  in  which 
Petrarch  received  the  Laurel  at  Rome.  The  long  friendship, 
which  subsisted  between  these  two  extraordinary  men,  must  pro 
bably  have  commenced  in  the  preceding  winter,  when  Petrarch 
came  to  Naples  in  order  to  be  examined  by  King  Robert,  pre 
viously  to  his  going  to  Rome.  Boccace  seems  to  have  been  pre 
sent  at  some  of  the  conversations  between  him  and  the  King. 
[Geneal.  Deor.  1.  xiv.  c.  xxii.] 

The  first  Edition  of  the  Theseida,  according  to  Quadrio  [t.  vi.  p. 
462.],  was  without  date,  and  under  the  mistaken  title  of  Amaxonide, 
which  might  have  been  proper  enough  for  the  first  book.  It  was 
soon  after  however  reprinted,  with  its  true  title,  at  Ferrara,  in 
1475,  fol.  Dr,  Askew  was  so  obliging  as  to  lend  me  the  only  copy 
of  this  edition,  which  I  have  ever  heard  of,  in  England.  The  Re 
verend  Mr.  Crofts  has  a  later  edition  in  4to.  printed  at  Venice,  in 
1528,  but  in  that  the  Poem  has  been  riveduto  e  emendato,  that  is, 
in  plain  English,  modernized.  I  cannot  help  suspecting  that 
Salvini,  who  has  inveighed  with  great  bitterness  against  the  cor 
ruptions  ot  the  printed  Theseida,  [Manni,  1st.  del  Decani,  p.  52.] 
had  only  examined  this  last  edition ;  for  I  observe  that  a  Stanza 
which  he  has  quoted  (from  some  Ms.  as  1  suppose)  is  not  near  so 
correct  as  it  is  in  the  edition  of  1475.  As  this  Stanza  contains 
Boccaces  own  account  of  the  intention  of  his  Poem,  I  shall  tran 
scribe  it  here  from  that  edition.  It  is  the  beginning  of  his  con 
clusion. 

Poi  che  le  Muse  nude  cominciaro 

Nel  conspeto  de  gli  omeni  ad  andare, 
VOL.   I.  I 


114  INTRODUCTORY  DISCOURSE  TO 


which  will  shew  with  what  skill  Chaucer  has  pro 
ceeded  in  reducing  a  poem  of  about  ten  thousand 
lines  to  a  little  more  than  two  thousand,  without 
omitting  any  material  circumstance. 

The  Theseida  is  distributed  into  twelve  Books  or 
Can  toes. 

B.  I.  contains  the  war  of  Theseus  with  the  Ama 
zons  ;  their  submission  to  him ;  and  his  marriage 
with  Hippolyta. 

B.  II.  Theseus,  having  spent  two  years  in  Scythia, 
is  reproached  by  Perithous  in  a  vision,  and  imme- 

Gia  fur  de  quelli  die  [gia]  le  exercitaro 

Con  bello  stilo  in  honesto  parlare, 

E  altri  in  amoroso  lo  operaro ; 

Ma  tu,  o  libro,  primo  al  lor  cantare 

Di  Marte  fai  gli  aftanni  sostenuti, 

Nel  vulgar  latino  mai  piu  non  veduti. 

This  plainly  alludes  to  a  passage  in  Dante,  de  Vulgar!  Eloquentia, 
1.  ii.  c.  ii.  where,  after  having  pointed  out  the  three  great  subjects 
of  Poetry,  viz.  Arma,  Amorem,  et  Rectitudinem,  (War,  Love,  and 
Morality ,)  and  enumerated  the  illustrious  writers  upon  each,  he 
adds :  Arma  vero  nullum  Italum  adhuc  invenio  poetasse.  Boccace 
therefore  apparently  prides  himself  upon  having  supplied  the  de 
fect  remarked  by  Dante,  and  upon  being  the  first  who  taught  the 
Italian  Muses  to  sing  of  Arms. 

Besides  other  variations  for  the  worse,  the  fifth  line  in  Salviui's 
copy  is  written  thus ; 

Ed  altri  in  dolci  modi  1'operaro  — 
by  which  means  the  allusion  to  Dante  is  rendered  incomplete. 


THE  CANTERBURY   TALES.  115 


diately  returns  to  Athens  with  Hippolyta  and  her 
sister  Emilia.  He  enters  the  city  in  triumph ;  finds 
the  Grecian  Ladies  in  the  temple  of  Clemenzia; 
marches  to  Thebes ;  kills  Creon,  &c.  and  brings 
home  Palemone  and  Arcita,  who  are 
Damnati — ad  eterna  presone. 

B.  III.  Emilia,  walking  in  a  garden  and  singing, 
is  heard  and  seen  first  by  Arcita  (10),  who  calls  Pa 
lemone.  They  are  both  equally  enamoured  of  her, 
but  without  any  jealousy  or  rivalship.  Emilia  is 
supposed  to  see  them  at  the  window,  and  to  be  not 
displeased  with  their  admiration. — Arcita  is  released 
at  the  request  of  Perithous ;  takes  his  leave  of  Pa 
lemone,  with  embraces  &c. 

B.  IV.  Arcita,  having  changed  his  name  to  Pen- 
theo,  goes  into  the  service  of  Menelaus  at  Mycense, 

(10)  In  describing  the  commencement  of  this  Amour,  which  is 
to  be  the  subject  of  the  remainder  of  the  poem,  Chaucer  has  entirely 
departed  from  his  author  in  three  principal  circumstances,  and,  I 
think,  in  each  with  very  good  reason.  1.  By  supposing  Emilia 
to  be  seen  first  by  Palamon,  he  gives  him  an  advantage  over  his 
rival  which  makes  the  catastrophe  more  consonant  to  poetical 
justice.  2.  The  picture  which  Boccace  has  exhibited  of  two 
young  princes,  violently  enamoured  of  the  same  object,  without 
jealousy  or  rivalship,  if  not  absolutely  unnatural,  is  certainly  very 
insipid  and  unpoetical.  3.  As  no  consequence  is  to  follow  from 
their  being  seen  by  Emilia  at  this  time,  it  is  better,  I  think,  to 
suppose,  as  Chaucer  has  done,  that  they  are  not  seen  by  her. 


116          '    INTRODUCTORY    DISCOURSE  TO 


and  afterwards  of  Peleus  at  J£gina.  From  thence 
he  returns  to  Athens  and  becomes  a  favourite  ser 
vant  of  Theseus,  being  known  to  Emilia,  though  to 
nobody  else ;  till  after  some  time  he  is  overheard 
making  his  complaint  in  a  wood,  to  which  he  usually 
resorted  for  that  purpose,  by  Pamphilo,  a  servant  of 
Palemone. 

B.  V.  Upon  the  report  of  Pamphilo,  Palemone 
begins  to  be  jealous  of  Arcita,  and  is  desirous  to  get 
out  of  prison  in  order  to  fight  with  him.  This  he 
accomplishes  with  the  assistance  of  Pamphilo,  by 
changing  clothes  with  Alimeto.  a  Physician.  He 
goes  armed  to  the  wood  in  quest  of  Arcita,  whom 
he  finds  sleeping.  At  first  they  are  very  civil  and 
friendly  to  each  other  (11).  Then  Palemone  calls 
upon  Arcita  to  renounce  his  pretensions  to  Emilia, 
or  to  fight  with  him.  After  many  long  expostula 
tions  on  the  part  of  Arcita,  they  fight,  and  are  dis 
covered  first  by  Emilia,  who  sends  for  Theseus. 
When  he  finds  who  they  are,  and  the  cause  of  their 

(11)   En  sieme  se  fer  festa  di  bon  core, 

£  li  loro  accident!  si  narraro.         Thes.  1.  v. 
This  is  surely  too  much  in  the  style  of  Romance.  Chaucer  has  made 
them  converse  more  naturally.     He  has  also  judiciously  avoided  to 
copy  Boccace  in  representing  Arcite  as  more  moderate  than  his 
rival. 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES.  117 


difference,  he  forgives  them,  and  proposes  the  me 
thod  of  deciding  their  claim  to  Emilia  by.  a  combat 
of  an  hundred  on  each  side,  to  which  they  gladly 
agree. 

B.  VI.  Palemone  and  Arcita  live  splendidly  at 
Athens,  and  send  out  messengers  to  summon  their 
friends  ;  who  arrive ;  and  the  principal  of  them  are 
severally  described,  viz.  Lycurgus,  Peleus,  Phocus, 
Telamon,  &c.  Agamemnon,  Menelaus,  Castor  and 
Pollux,  &c.  Nestor,  Evander,  Perithous,  Ulysses, 
Diomedes,  Pygmalion,  Minos,  &c.  with  a  great  dis 
play  of  ancient  history  and  mythology. 

B.  VII.  Theseus  declares  the  laws  of  the  combat, 
and  the  two  parties  of  an  hundred  on  each  side  are 
formed.  The  day  before  the  combat,  Arcita,  after 
having  visited  the  temples  of  all  the  Gods,  makes 
a  formal  prayer  to  Mars.  The  Prayer,  being  per- 
sonified(\2),  is  said  to  go  and  find  Mars  in  his 

(12)  Era  alor  forsi  Marte  in  exercitio 
Di  chiara  far  la  parte  ruginosa 
Del  grande  suo  e  horribile  hospitio, 
Quando  de  Arcita  LA  ORATION  pietosa 
Pervenne  li  per  fare  il  dato  offitio, 
Tutta  ne  lo  aspecto  lagrimosa  ; 
La  qual  divene  di  spavento  muta, 
Come  di  Marte  hebbe  laca  veduta.     Thes.  1.  vii. 
As  this  contrivance,  of  personifying  the  Prayers  and  sending  them 
to  the  several  deities,  is  only  in  order  to  introduce  a  description  of 


118  INTRODUCTORY  DISCOURSE    TO 


temple  in  Thrace,  which  is  described;  and  Mars, 
upon  understanding  the  message,  causes  favourable 
signs  to  be  given  to  Arcita.  In  the  same  manner 
Palemone  closes  his  religious  observances  with  a 
prayer  to  Venus.  His  Prayer,  being  also  personified, 

the  respective  temples,  it  will  be  allowed,  I  believe,  that  Chaucer 
has  attained  the  same  end  by  a  more  natural  fiction.  It  is  very 
probable  that  Boccace  caught  the  idea  of  making  the  Prayers 
persons  from  Homer,  with  whose  works  he  was  better  acquainted 
than  most  of  bis  contemporaries  in  this  part  of  the  world  ;  and 
there  can  be  no  doubt,  I  suppose,  that  Chaucer's  imagination,  in 
the  expedient  which  he  has  substituted,  was  assisted  by  the  occa 
sional  edifices  which  he  had  himself  seen  erected  for  the  decoration 
of  Turnaments. 

The  combat,  which  follows,  having  no  foundation  in  antient 
history  or  manners,  it  is  no  wonder  that  both  poets  should  have 
admitted  a  number  of  incongruous  circumstances  into  their  descrip 
tion  of  it.  The  great  advantage  which  Chaucer  has  over  his 
original  in  this  respect  is,  that  he  is  much  shorter.  When  we  have 
read  in  the  Theseida  a  long  and  learned  catalogue  of  all  the  heroes 
of  Antiquity  brought  together  upon  this  occasion,  we  are  only  the 
more  surprized  to  see  Theseus,  in  such  an  assembly,  conferring  the 
honour  of  Knighthood  upon  the  two  Theban  chieftains. 

E  senza  stare  con  non  piccolo  honore 

Cinse  le  spade  a  li  duiscudieri, 

E  ad  Arcita  Poluce  e  Castore 

Calciaro  d'oro  li  sproni  e  volontieri, 

E  Diomede  e  Ulixe  di  cuore 

Calzati  a  Palemone,  e  cavalieri 

Ambedui  furono  alora  novelli 

Li  inamorati  Theban  damigieli.         Thes.  I.  vii. 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES.  119 


sets  out  for  the  temple  of  Venus  on  Mount  Cithe- 
rone,  which  is  also  described ;  and  the  petition  is 
granted.  Then  the  sacrifice  of  Emilia  to  Diana  is 
described ;  her  prayer ;  the  appearance  of  the  God 
dess  ;  and  the  signs  of  the  two  fires. — In  the  morn 
ing  they  proceed  to  the  Theatre  with  their  respec 
tive  troops,  and  prepare  for  the  action.  Arcita 
puts  up  a  private  prayer  to  Emilia,  and  harangues 
his  troop  publickly ;  and  Palemone  does  the  same. 

B.  VIII.  Contains  a  description  of  the  battle,  in 
which  Palemone  is  taken  prisoner. 

B.  IX.  The  horse  of  Arcita,  being  frighted  by  a 
Fury,  sent  from  hell  at  the  desire  of  Venus,  throws 
him.  However,  he  is  carried  to  Athens  in  a  tri 
umphal  chariot  with  Emilia  by  his  side ;  is  put  to 
bed  dangerously  ill;  and  there  by  his  own  desire 
espouses  Emilia. 

B.  X.  The  funeral  of  the  persons  killed  in  the 
combat.  Arcita,  being  given  over  by  his  Physicians, 
makes  his  will,  in  discourse  with  Theseus,  and 
desires  that  Palemone  may  inherit  all  his  posses 
sions  and  also  Emilia.  He  then  takes  leave  of 
Palemone  and  Emilia,  to  whom  he  repeats  the  same 
request.  Their  lamentations.  Arcita  orders  a  sa 
crifice  to  Mercury,  (which  Palemone  performs  for 
him,)  and  dies. 


12O  INTRODUCTORY   DISCOURSE  TO 


B.  XI.  Opens  with  the  passage  of  Arcita's  soul 
to  heaven,  imitated  from  the  beginning  of  the  9th 
Book  of  Lucan.  The  funeral  of  Arcita.  Descrip 
tion  of  the  wood  felled  takes  up  six  Stanzas.  Pale- 
mone  builds  a  temple  in  honour  of  him,  in  which 
his  whole  history  is  painted.  The  description  of 
this  painting  is  an  abridgement  of  the  preceding 
part  of  the  Poem. 

B.  XII.  Theseus  proposes  to  carry  into  execu 
tion  Arcita's  will  by  the  marriage  of  Palemone  and 
Emilia.  This  they  both  decline  for  some  time  in 
formal  speeches,  but  at  last  are  persuaded  and 
married.  The  Kings,  &c.  take  their  leave,  and 
Palemone  remains — "  in  gioia  e  in  diporto  Con  la 
sua  dona  nobile  e  cortese." 

From  this  sketch  of  the  Theseida  it  is  evident 
enough  that  Chaucer  was  obliged  to  Boccace  (13)  for 

( 13)  To  whom  Boccace  was  obliged  is  a  more  difficult  subject 
of  enquiry.  That  the  Story  was  of  his  own  invention,  I  think  is 
scarce  credible.  He  speaks  of  it  himself  as  very  ancient.  [Lett, 
alia  Fiammetta.  Biblioth.  Smith.  App.  p.  cxli.]  Trovata  una  an- 
tichissima  Storia,  e  al  piu  delle  genti  non  manifcsta,  in  latino  vol- 
gare,  acciocche  piu  dilettasse  e  massimamente  a  voi,  che  gia  con 
sommo  titola  le  mie  rime  esaltaste,  ho  ridotta.  He  then  tells  her, 
that  she  will  observe  that  what  is  related  under  the  name  of  one  of 
the  two  lovers  and  of  Emilia,  is  very  similar  to  what  bad  actually 
passed  between  herself  and  him  ;  and  adds  — Se  forse  alcune  cose 
soperchie  vi  fossono,  il  voler  bene  coprire  cid  che  non  era  ouesto 


THE, CANTERBURY  TALES.  121 


the  Plan  and  principal  incidents  of  the  KNIGHTES 
TALE;  and  in  the  Notes  upon  that  tale  I  shall 
point  out  some  passages,  out  of  many  more,  which 
are  literal  translations  from  the  Italian. 

§  X.  When  the  Knight  has  finished  his  Tale,  the 
Host  with  great  propriety  calls  upon  the  Monk,  as 
the  next  in  rank  among  the  men,  te  tell  the  next 
Tale ;  but,  as  it  seems  to  have  been  the  intention 
of  Chaucer  to  avail  himself  of  the  variety  of  his 
Characters,  in  order  to  distribute  alternate  suc 
cessions  of  Serious  and  Comic,  in  nearly  equal  pro 
portions,  throughout  his  work,  he  has  contrived, 
that  the  Hostes  arrangement  shall  be  set  aside  by 
the  intrusion  of  the  dronken  Miller,  whose  Tale  is 


manifestare,  da  noi  due  in  fuori  e'l  volere  la  storia  seguire,  ne  sono 
cagione.  1  am  well  aware  however  that  declarations  of  this  kind, 
prefixed  to  fabulous  works,  are  not  much  to  be  depended  upon. 
The  wildest  of  the  French  Romances  are  commonly  said  by  the 
Authors  to  be  translated  from  some  old  Latin  Chronicle  at  St. 
Denys.  And  certainly  the  Story  of  Palemone  and  Arcita,  as  re 
lated  by  Boccace,  coud  not  be  very  ancient.  If  it  was  of  Greek 
original  (as  I  rather  suspect)  it  must  have  been  thrown  into  its 
present  form,  after  the  Norman  Princes  had  introduced  the  man 
ners  of  Chivalry  into  their  dominions  in  Sicily  and  Italy. 

The  Poem  in  modern  Greek  political  verses  De  nuptiis  Thesei 
et  Emilitf,  printed  at  Venice  in  1529,  is  a  mere  translation  of  the 
Theseida.  The  Author  has  even  translated  the  prefatory  epistle 
addressed  by  Boccace  to  the  Fiammetta. 


1C2C2  INTRODUCTORY   DISCOURSE  TO 


such  as  might  be  expected  from  his  character  and 
condition,  a  complete  contrast  to  the  Knightes. 

§  XI.  I  have  not  been  able  to  discover  from 
whence  the  Story  of  the  MILLERS  TALE  is  taken : 
so  that  for  the  present  I  must  give  Chaucer  credit 
for  it  as  his  own  invention,  though  in  general  he  ap 
pears  to  have  built  his  Tales,  both  serious  and 
comic,  upon  stories,  which  he  found  ready  made. 
The  great  difference  is,  that  in  his  serious  pieces  he 
often  follows  his  author  with  the  servility  of  a  mere 
translator,  and  in  consequence  his  narration  is  je 
june  and  constrained  ;  whereas  in  the  comic,  he  is 
generally  satisfied  with  borrowing  a  slight  hint  of 
his  subject,  which  he  varies,  enlarges,  and  embel 
lishes  at  pleasure,  and  gives  the  whole  the  air  and 
colour  of  an  original ;  a  sure  sign,  that  his  genius 
rather  led  him  to  compositions  of  the  latter  kind. 

§  XII.  The  next  tale  is  told  by  the  REVE  (who  is 
represented  above  [ver.  589.]  as  "  a  cholerick 
man")  in  revenge  of  the  Miller's  tale.  It  has  been 
generally  said  to  be  borrowed  from  the  Decameron, 
D.  ix.  N.  6.  but  I  rather  think  that  both  Boccace 
and  Chaucer,  in  this  instance,  have  taken  whatever 
they  have  in  common  from  an  old  Fabliau,  or  Conte, 
of  an  anonymous  French  rimer,  De  Gombert  et  des 
deux  Clers.  The  Reader  may  easily  satisfy  himself 


•THE  CANTERBURY  TALES.  123 


upon  this  head,  by  casting  his  eye  upon  the  French 
Fabliau,  which  has  lately  been  printed  with  several 
others  from  Mss.  in  France.  See  Fabliaux  et  Contes, 
Paris,  1756.  t.  ii.  p.  115—124. 

§  XIII.  The  COKES  TALE  is  imperfect  in  all  the 
Mss.  which  I  have  had  an  opportunity  of  examining. 
In  Ms.  A.  it  seems  to  have  been  entirely  omitted ; 
and  indeed  I  cannot  help  suspecting,  that  it  was 
intended  to  be  omitted,  at  least  in  this  place, 
as  in  the  Manciples  Prologue,  when  the  Coke  is 
called  upon  to  tell  a  tale,  there  is  no  intimation  of 
his  having  told  one  before.  Perhaps  our  Author 
might  think  that  three  tales  of  harlotrie,  as  he  calls 
it,  together  would  be  too  much.  However,  as  it 
is  sufficiently  certain,  that  the  Cokes  Prologue  and 
the  beginning  of  his  Tale  are  genuine  compositions, 
they  have  their  usual  place  in  this  Edition.  There 
was  not  the  same  reason  for  inserting  the  story  of 
GAMELYN,  which  in  some  Mss.  is  annexed  to  the 
Cokes  Tale.  It  is  not  to  be  found  in  any  of  the 
Mss.  of  the  first  authority ;  and  the  manner,  style, 
and  versification,  all  prove  it  to  have  been  the  work 
of  an  author  much  inferiour  to  Chaucer.  I  did  not 
therefore  think  myself  warranted  to  publish  it  a 
second  time  among  the  Canterbury  Tales,  though 
as  a  Relique  of  our  antient  Poetry,  and  the  founda- 


1C24  INTRODUCTORY  DISCOURSE  TO 


tion,  perhaps,  of  Shakespeare's  As  you  like  it,  I 
coud  have  wished  to  see  it  more  accurately  printed, 
than  it  is  in  the  only  edition  which  we  have  of  it. 

§  XIV.  In  the  PROLOGUE  TO  THE  MAN  or 
LA  WES  TALE  Ghaucer  recalls  our  attention  to  the 
Action  (if  I  may  so  call  it)  of  his  Drama,  the 
journey  of  the  .Pilgrims.  They  had  set  out  soon 
after  the  day  began  to  spring  [ver.  824  and  f.]  When 
the  Reve  was  beginning  to  tell  his  tale,  they  were 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  Deptford  and  Greenwich, 
and  it  was  half  way  prime ;  that  is,  I  suppose,  half 
way  past  prime,  about  half  hour  after  seven  A.M. 
[ver.  3904,  5.].  How  much  further  they  were  ad 
vanced  upon  their  road  at  this  time  is  not  said ;  but 
the  hour  of  the  day  is  pointed  out  to  us  by  two  cir 
cumstances.  We  are  first  told  [ver.  4422,  3.],  that 

— "  the  Sonne 

The  ark  of  his  artificial  day  had  ronne 
The  fourthe  part  and  half  an  hour  and  more;" — 

and  secondly  [ver.  4432.],  that  he  was  "  five  and 
forty  degrees  high  ;"  and  this  last  circumstance  i& 
so  confirmed  by  the  mention  of  a  corresponding 
phenomenon  that  it  is  impossible  to  suspect  any 
error  in  the  number.  The  equality  in  length  of 
shadows  to  their  projecting  bodies  can  only  hap 
pen,  when  the  Sun  is  at  the  heighth  of  five  and  forty. 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


degrees.  Unfortunately  however  this  description, 
though  seemingly  intended  to  be  so  accurate,  will 
neither  enable  us  to  conclude  with  the  Mss.  that  it 
was  "  ten  of  the  clock,"  nor  to  fix  upon  any  other 
hour;  as  the  two  circumstances  just  mentioned 
are  not  found  to  coincide  in  any  part  of  the  twenty- 
eighth  (or  of  any  other)  day  of  April  (14)  in  this 
climate.  All  that  we  can  conclude  with  certainty 
is,  that  it  was  not  past  ten  of  the  clock. 

The  compliments  which  Chaucer  has  introduced 
upon  his  own  writings  are  modest  enough,  and  quite 
unexceptionable  ;  but  if  the  reflection  [ver.  4497. 
and  f.]  upon  those  who  relate  such  stories  as  that 

(14)  The  twenty-eighth  day  of  April,  in  the  time  of  Chaucer, 
answering  to  our  6lh  or  7th  of  May,  the  Sun,  in  the  latitude  of 
London  rose  about  half  hour  after  four,  and  the  length  of  the  arti 
ficial  day  was  a  little  more  than  fifteen  hours.  A  fourth  part  of  15 
hours  (  =  3*1.  45m.)  and  half  an  hour  and  more — 11133'  ^  fairly 
computed  to  make  together  4  hours  §,  which  being  reckoned  from 
4J  A.  M.  give  the  time  of  the  day  exactly  9.  A.M.  hut  the  Sun 
was  not  at  the  altitude  of  45°.  till  above  half  hour  after  9.  In 
like  manner,  if  we  take  the  eighteenth  day  (according  to  all  the 
Editions  and  some  Mss.),  we  shall  find  that  the  Sun  indeed  was 
45°  high  at  10  A.M.  exactly,  but  that  the  fourth  part  of  the 
day  and  half  an  hour  and  more  had  been  completed  at  9  A.  M. 

In  this  uncertainty,  I  have  left  the  text  as  I  found  it  in  all  the 
best  Mss.  Only  Ms.  HA.  does  not  express  the  hour,  but  reads 
thus:— 

Yt  was  atte  cloke  — . 


INTRODUCTORY   DISCOURSE  TO 


of  Canace,  or  of  Apollonius  Tyrius,  was  levelled  at 
Gower,  as  I  very  much  suspect,  it  will  be  difficult 
to  reconcile  such  an  attack  to  our  notions  of  the 
strict  friendship,  which  is  generally  supposed  to 
have  subsisted  between  the  two  bards  (15).  The 
attack  too  at  this  time  must  appear  the  more  extra 
ordinary  on  the  part  of  our  bard,  as  he  is  just  going 
to  put  into  the  mouth  of  his  Man  of  Lawe  a  tale,  of 
which  almost  every  circumstance  is  borrowed  from 
Gower.  The  fact  is,  that  the  story  of  Canace  is  re 
lated  by  Gower  in  his  Conf.  Amant.  B.  iii.  and  the 
story  of  (16)  Apollonius  (or  Apollynus,  as  he  is  there 

(15)  There  is  another  circumstance,  which  rather  inclines  me 
to  believe,  that  their  friendship  suffered  some  interruption  in  the 
latter  part  of  their  lives.     In  the  new  edition  of  the  Confessio 
Amantis,  which  Gower  published  after  the  accession  of  Henry  IV, 
the  verses  in  praise  of  Chaucer  [fol.  190.  b.  col.  1.  ed.  1532.]  are 
omitted.     [See  Ms.  Harl.  3869.]     Though  perhaps  the  death  of 
Chaucer  at  that  time  had  rendered  the  compliment  contained  in 
those  verses  less  proper  than  it  was  at  first,  that  alone  does  not 
seem  to  have  been  a  sufficient  reason  for  omitting  them,  especially 
as  the  original  date  of  the  work,  in  the  16  of  Richard  II,  is  pre 
served.     Indeed  the  only  other  alterations,  which  I  have  been  able 
to  discover,  are  toward  the  beginning  and  end,  where  every  thing 
which  had  been  said  in  praise  of  Richard  in  the  first  edition,  is 
either  left  out  or  converted  to  the  use.  of  his  successor. 

(16)  The  History  of  Apollonius  King  of  Tyre  was  supposed  by 
Mark  Welser,  when  he  printed  it  in  1595,  to  have  been  translated 
from  the  Greek  a  thousand  years  before.  [Fabr.  Bib.  Gr.  V.  6« 
p.  821.]     It  certainly  bears  strong  marks  of  a  Greek  original, 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES.  12? 


called)  in  the  VIHth  book  of  the  same  work ;  so 
that,  if  Chaucer  really  did  not  mean  to  reflect  upon 
his  old  friend,  his  choice  of  these  two  instances  was 
rather  unlucky. 

§  XV.  THE  MAN  OF  LAWES  TALE,  as  I  have  just 
said,  is  taken,  with  very  little  variation  from  Gower,  - 
Con/1  Amant.  B.  ii.  If  there  coud  be  any  doubt, 
upon  a  cursory  perusal  of  the  two  tales,  which  of 
them  was  written  first,  the  following  passage,  I 

though  it  is  not  (that  I  know)  now  extant  in  that  language.  The 
Rythmical  poem,  under  the  same  title,  in  modern  Greek,  was  re 
translated  (if  I  may  so  speak)  from  the  Latin — onto  Aaronxj);  tt( 
Paytai'xrjv  yXwo-fra*.  Du  Fresne,  Index  Author,  ad  Gloss.  Grsc- 
When  Welser  printed  it,  he  probably  did  not  know  that  it  had 
been  published  already  (perhaps  more  than  once)  among  the  Gesta 
Romanorum.  In  an  edition,  which  I  have,  printed  at  Rouen  in 
1521,  it  makes  the  154th  chapter.  Toward  the  latter  end  of  the 
Xllth  Century,  Godfrey  of  Viterbo,  in  his  Pantheon,  or  universal 
Chronicle,  inserted  this  Romance  as  part  of  the  history  of  the  third 
Antiochus,  about  200  years  before  Christ.  It  begins  thus  [Ms. 
Keg.  14  C.  xi.] : 

Filia  Seleuci  regis  stat  clara  decore 
Matreque  defunct^  pater  arsit  in  ejus  amore. 

Res  habet  effectum,  pressa  puella  dolet. 

The  rest  is  in  the  same  metre,  with  one  Pentameter  only  to  two 
Hexameters. 

Gower,  by  his  own  acknowledgement,  took  his  Story  from  the 
Pantheon ;  as  the  Author  (whoever  he  was)  of  Pericles  Prince  of 
Tyre  professes  to  have  followed  Gower. 


128  INTRODUCTORY   DISCOURSE    TO 


think,  is  sufficient  to  decide  the  question.  At  ver. 
5505,  Chaucer  says, — 

Som  men  wold  sayn,  how  that  the  child  Maurice 
Doth  this  message  until  this  Emperour : — 

and  we  read  in  Gower,  that  Maurice  is  actually  sent 
upon  this  message  to  the  Emperour.  We  may 
therefore  fairly  conclude  that  in  this  passage  Chau 
cer  alludes  to  Gower,  who  had  treated  the  same 
subject  before  him,  but,  as  he  insinuates,  with  less 
propriety. 

I  do  not  however  suppose  that  Gower  was  the  in 
ventor  of  this  tale.  It  had  probably  passed  through 
several  hands  before  it  came  to  him.  I  find  among 
the  Cotton  Mss.  Cal.  A.  ii.  fol.  69.  an  old  English 
Rime,  entitled  "  Emare,"  in  which  the  heroine 
under  that  name  goes  through  a  series  of  adven 
tures  for  the  most  part  (17)  exactly  similar  to  those 
of  Constance.  But  neither  was  the  author  of  this 
Rime  the  inventor  of  the  story,  for  in  fol.  70.  a.  he 
refers  to  his  original  "  in  Romans,"  or  French ;  and 
in  the  last  Stanza  he  tells  us  expressly — 

(17)  The  chief  differences  are,  that  Emare  is  originally  exposed 
in  a  boat  for  refusing  to  comply  with  the  incestuous  desires  of  the 
Emperour  her  father ;  that  she  is  driven  on  the  coast  of  Galys,  or 
Wales,  and  married  to  the  king  of  that  country.  The  contrivances 
of  the  step-mother,  and  the  consequences  of  them,  are  the  same  in 
both  stories. 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES.  129 


Thys  ys  on  of  Brytayne  layes 
That  was  used  by  olde  dayes. 

Of  the  Britaine  layes  I  shall  have  occasion  to 
speak  more  at  large,  when  I  come  to  the  Franke- 
lein's  Tale. 

§  XVI.  The  Man  of  Lawes  Tale  in  the  best  Mss. 
is  followed  by  the  Wife  of  Bathes  Prologue  and 
Tale,  and  therefore  I  have  placed  them  so  here ; 
not  however  merely  in  compliance  with  authority, 
but  because,  according  to  the  common  arrangement, 
in  the  Merchants  Tale(  18)  there  is  a  direct  reference 
to  the  Wife  of  Bathes  Prologue,  before  it  has  been 
spoken.  Such  an  impropriety  I  was  glad  to  remove 
upon  the  authority  of  the  best  Mss.  though  it  had 
been  acquiesced  in  by  all  former  Editors ;  especially 
as  the  same  Mss.  pointed  out  to  me  an  other  (I  be- 

(18)  V.  9559.  Justine  says  to  his  brother  January — 
The  Wif  of  Bathe,  if  ye  han  understonde, 
Of  mariage,  which  ye  han  now  in  honde, 
Declared  hath  ful  wel  in  litel  space — 

alluding  very  plainly  to  this  Prologue  of  the  Wife  of  Bath.  The 
impropriety  of  such  an  allusion  in  the  mouth  of  Justine  is  gross 
enough.  The  trutlvis,  that  Chaucer  has  inadvertently  given  to  a 
character  in  tht  Merchant's  Tale  an  argument  which  the  Merchant 
himself  might  naturally  have  used  upon  a  similar  occasion,  after  he 
had  heard  the  Wife  if  Bath.  If  we  suppose,  with  the  Editions, 
that  the  Wife  of  Bath  had  not  at  that  time  spoken  her  Prologue,  the 
impropriety  will  be  increased  to  an  incredible  degree. 
VOL.  I.  K 


ISO  INTRODUCTORY  DISCOURSE  TO 


lieve,  the  true)  place  for  both  the  Merchant's  and 
the  Squier's  Tales,  which  have  hitherto  been  printed 
immediately  after  the  Man  of  Lawes.  But  of  that 
hereafter. 

§  XVII.  The  want  of  a  few  lines  to  introduce  the 
WIFE  of  BATHES  PROLOGUE  is,  perhaps,  one  of 
those  defects,  hinted  at  above,  which  Chaucer 
would  have  supplied  if  he  had  lived  to  finish  his 
work.  The  extraordinary  length  of  it,  as  well  as 
the  vein  of  pleasantry  that  runs  through  it,  is  very 
suitable  to  the  character  of  the  speaker.  The 
greatest  part  must  have  been  of  Chaucer's  own  in 
vention,  though  one  may  plainly  see  that  he  had 
been  reading  the  popular  invectives  against  mar 
riage  and  women  in  general ;  such  as,  the  ROMAN 
DE  LA  ROSE;  VALERIUS  AD  RUFINUM  de  non  du- 
cendd  uxore;  and  particularly  HIERONYMUS  contra 
Jovinianum  (19). 

(19)  The  holy  Father,  by  way  of  recommending  celibacy,  has 
exerted  all  his  learning  and  eloquence  (and  he  certainly  was  not 
deficient  in  either)  to  collect  together  and  aggravate  whatever  he 
coud  find  to  the  prejudice  of  the  female  sex.  Among  other  things 
he  has  inserted  his  own  translation  (probably)  of  a  long  extract 
from  what  he  calls — "  liber  aureolas  Theophrasti  de  nuptiit." 

Next  to  him  in  order  of  time  was  the  treatise  entitled  "  Epittola 
Valerii  ad  Rufrnum  de  non  ducendd  uxore."  Ms.  Beg.  12  D.  iii. 
It  has  been  printed  (for  the  similarity  of  its  sentiments,  I  suppose) 
among  the  works  of  St.  Jerome,  though  it  is  evidently  of  a  much 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES.  131 


^  XVIII.  THE  WIFE  or  BATHES  TALE  seems  to 
have  been  taken  from  the  Story  ofFlorent  in  Gower, 
Con/.  Amant.  B.  i.  or  perhaps  from  an  older  narra 
tive,  in  the  Gesta  Romanorum  or  some  such  collec 
tion,  from  which  the  Story  of  Florent  was  itself  bor 
rowed.  However  that  may  have  been,  it  must  be 
allowed  that  Chaucer  has  considerably  improved 
the  fable  by  lopping  off  some  improbable,  as  well  as 
unnecessary,  circumstances ;  and  the  transferring  of 
the  scene  from  Sicily  to  the  Court  of  King  Arthur 
must  have  had  a  very  pleasing  effect,  before  the  fa 
bulous  majesty  of  that  court  was  quite  obliterated. 

The  old  Ballad  entitled  "  The  Marriage  of  Sir 
Gawaine."  [Ancient  Poetry,  vol.  iii.  p.  11.]  which 
the  learned  Editor  thinks  may  have  furnished  Chau 
cer  with  this  tale,  I  should  rather  conjecture  (with 
deference  to  so  good  a  judge  in  these  matters)  to 
have  been  composed  by  one  who  had  read  both 
Gower  and  Chaucer. 

later  date.  Tanner  (from  Wood's  Ms.  Coll.)  attributes  it  to  Wal 
ter  Map  [Bib.  Brit.  v.  MAP.].  1  should  not  believe  it  to  be  older; 
as  John  of  Salisbury,  who  has  treated  of  the  same  subject  in  his 
Polycrat.  1.  viii.  c.  xi.  does  not  appear  to  have  seen  it. 

To  these  two  books  Jean  de  Meun  has  been  obliged  for  some  of 
the  severest  strokes  in  his  Roman  de  la  Rose;  and  Chaucer  has 
transfused  the  quintessence  of  all  the  three  works  (upon  the  sub 
ject  of  matrimony)  into  his  Wife  of  Bathes  Prologue  and  Merchant* 
Tale. 


132  INTRODUCTORY  DISCOURSE  TO 


§  XIX.  THE  TALES  of  THE  FRERE  and  THE 
SOMPNOUR  are  well  ingrafted  upon  that  of  the  Wife 
of  Bath.  The  ill  humour  which  shews  itself  be 
tween  those  two  characters  is  quite  natural,  as  no 
two  professions  at  that  time  were  at  more  constant 
variance.  The  Regular  Clergy,  and  particularly 
the  Mendicant  Freres,  affected  a  total  exemption 
from  all  Ecclesiastical  jurisdiction,  except  that  of 
the  Pope,  which  made  them  exceedingly  obnoxious 
to  the  Bishops,  and  of  course  to  all  the  inferiour 
officers  of  the  national  hierarchy.* 

I  have  not  been  able  to  trace  either  of  these  tales 
to  any  author  older  than  Chaucer,  and  possibly 
they  may  both  have  been  built  upon  some  tra 
ditional  pleasantries,  which  were  never  before  com 
mitted  to  writing. 

§  XX.  THE  CLERKES  TALE  is  in  a  different 
strain  from  the  three  preceding.  He  tells  us,  in 
his  Prologue,  that  he  learned  it  from  Petrarch  at 
Padua ;  and  this  (by  the  way)  is  all  the  ground  that 
I  can  find  for  the  notion  that  Chaucer  had  seen 

*  I  am  obliged  to  Mr.  Steevens  for  pointing  out  to  me  a  story, 
which  has  a  great  resemblance,  in  its  principal  incidents,  to  the 
Freres  tale.  It  is  quoted  by  D'Artigny,  Memoires  d'histoire,  &c. 
T.  III.  p.  238.  from  a  collection  of  Sermons,  by  an  anonymous 
Dominican,  printed  about  the  beginning  of  the  XVI  Century, 
under  the  title  of  "  Sermonet  discipuli." 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES.  133 


Petrarch  (20)  in  Italy.  It  is  not  easy  to  say  why 
Chaucer  should  choose  to  own  an  obligation  for 

(20)  I  can  find  no  older  or  better  authority  for  this  notion  than 
the  following  passage  in  Speght's  life  of  Chaucer,  prefixed  to  the 
Edition  in  1597.  "  Some  write,  that  he  with  Petrarke  was  pre 
sent  at  the  marriage  of  Lionell  Duke  of  Clarence  with  Violante 
daughter  of  Galeasius,  Duke  of  Millaine  :  yet  Paullus  Jovius 
nameth  not  Chaucer ;  but  Petrarke,  he  say th,  was  there."  It  ap 
pears  from  an  instrument  in  Rymer  [Liberal.  42  E.  III.  in.  1.], 
that  the  Duke  of  Clarence  passed  from  Dover  to  Calais,  in  his  way 
to  Milan,  in  the  spring  of  1368,  with  a  retinue  of  457  men  and 
1280  horses.  That  Chaucer  might  have  attended  the  Duke  upon 
this  occasion  is  not  impossible.  He  had  been,  probably,  for  some 
time  in  the  king's  service,  and  had  received  the  year  before  a 
Grant  of  an  annuity  of  20  Marks — pro  bono  servitio,  quod  dilectus 
Vallettus  noster,  Galfridus  Chaucer  nobis  impendit  et  impendet  in 
futurum.  Pat.  41  E  III.  p.  1.  m.  13.  ap.  Rymer.  There  is  a 
curious  account  of  the  feast  at  this  marriage  in  the  Chrnnica  di 
Mantoua  of  Aliprandi  [Murator-  Antiq.  Med.  /£w,  vol.  v.  p.  1187, 
&  seq.],  but  he  does  not  give  the  names  of  the 

"  Grandi  Signori  e  Baroni  Inghilese, 
who  were  (as  he  says) 

"  Con  Messere  Lionell'in  compagnia," 

The  most  considerable  of  them  were  probably  those  26  (Knights 
and  others)  who,  before  their  setting  out  for  Milan,  procured  the 
King's  licence  to  appoint  Attorneys  general  to  act  for  them  here. 
Franc.  42  E.  III.  m.  8.  ap.  Rymer.  The  name  of  Chaucer  does 
not  appear  among  themt 

The  embassy  to  Genoa,  to  which  Chaucer  was  appointed  in  No 
vember  1372,  might  possibly  have  afforded  him  another  oppor 
tunity  of  seeing  Petrarch.  But  in  the  first  place,  it  is  uncertain 
•whether  he  ever  went  upon  that  Embassy.  If  he  did,  the  distance 


134  INTRODUCTORY  DISCOURSE  TO 


this  tale  to  Petrarch  rather  than  to  Boccace,  from 
whose  Decameron,  D.  x.  N.  1O.  it  was  translated  by 
Petrarch  in  13*3  (the  year  before  his  death),  as  ap 
pears  by  a  remarkable  letter,  which  he  sent  with  his 
translation  to  Boccace  [Opp.  Petrarch,  p.  540 — 7. 
Ed.  Bas.  1581.].  It  should  seem  too  from  the 
same  letter,  that  the  story  was  not  invented  by 
Boccace,  for  Petrarch  says,  "  that  it  had  always 
pleased  him  when  he  heard  it  many  years  before,"  ( I  \ ) 

from  Genoa  to  Padua,  where  Petrarch  resided,  is  considerable; 
and  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  a  reverential  visit  from  a  Minister 
of  the  King  of  England  would  have  been  so  flattering  to  the  old 
man,  that  either  he  himself  or  some  of  his  biographers  must  have 
recorded  it.  On  the  other  hand,  supposing  Chaucer  at  Genoa,  it 
is  to  be  presumed,  that,  he  would  not  have  been  deterred  by  the 
difficulties  of  a  much  longer  journey  from  paying  his  respects  to 
the  first  literary  character  of  the  age  :  and  it  is  remarkable,  that 
the  time  of  this  embassy,  in  1373,  is  the  precise  time  at  which  he 
coud  have  learned  the  story  of  Griseldis  from  Petrarch  at  Padua. 
For  Petrarch  in  all  probability  made  his  translation  in  that  very 
year,  and  he  died  in  July  of  the  year  following. 

The  inquisitive  and  judicious  author  of  Memoires  pour  la  vie  de 
Petrarque  gave  us  hopes  [Pref.  to  t.  ii  p.  6.].  that  he  would  shew, 
that  Chaucer  was  in  connexion  (en  liaison)  with  Petrarch.  As  he 
has  not  fulfilled  his  promise  in  a  later  (1  fear,  the  last)  volume  of 
his  very  ingenious  work,  I  suspect  that  his  more  accurate  researches 
have  not  enabled  him  to  verify  an  opinion,  which  he  probably  at 
first  adopted  upon  the  credit  of  some  biographer  of  Chaucer. 

(21)  — Cumet  mihi  semper  ante  multos  annos  audita  placuisset, 
et  tibi  usque  adeo  p'acuisse  perpenderem,  ut  vulgar!  earn  stylo  tuo 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES.  135 


whereas  he  had  not  seen  the  Decameron  till  very 
lately. 

|  XXI.  In  the  Ballade,  with  which  the  Clerk  con 
cludes  his  Tale,  I  have  changed  the  order  of  the 
three  last  Stanzas,  so  as  to  make  it  end — 

And  let  him  care,  and  wepe,  and  wringe,  and  waile — 

and  immediately  after  I  have  placed  the  MARCH  ANTSV 
PROLOGUE,  beginning — 

Weping  and  wailing,  care  and  other  sorwe 
I  have  enough — . 

This  arrangement,  which  recommends  itself  at  first 
sight,  is  also  supported  by  so  many  Mss.  of  the 
best  authority,  that,  without  great  negligence  or 

censueris  non  indignam,  et  fine  operis,  ubi  rbetorum  disciplina 
validioia  quselibet  collocari  jubet.  Petrarch,  loc.  cit.  M.  L'Abb6 
de  Sade  [Mem.  de  Petr.  t.  iii.  p.  797.]  says,  that  the  Story  of  Gri- 
seldis  is  taken  from  an  ancient  Ms.  in  the  library  of  M.  Foucault, 
entitled,  Le  parement  des  Dames.  If  this  should  have  been  said 
upon  the  authority  of  Mann?  [1st.  del  Decani,  p.  603.],  as  I  very 
much  suspect,  and  if  Manni  himself  meant  to  refer  to  M.  Galland's 
Discours  sur  quelqu£$  anciens  Poetes  [Mem.  de  1'Acad.  des  I.  et 
B.  L.  t.  ii.  p.  686.],  we  must  look  still  further  for  the  original  of 
Boccace's  Novel.  M.  Galland  says  nothing,  as  I  observe,  of  the 
antiquity  of  the  Ms.  Le  titre  (he  says)  est  Le  parement  des  Dames, 
avec  des  explications  en  Prose,  ou  1'on  trouve  1'histoire  de  Grise- 
lidis  que  feu  M.  Perrault  a  mise  en  vers :  but  he  says  also  ex 
pressly,  that  it  was  a  work  of  Olivier  de  la  Marche,  who  was  not 
born  till  many  years  after  the  death  of  Boccace. 


136  INTRODUCTORY  DISCOURSE  TO 


dullness,  I  coud  not  have  either  overlooked  or  re 
jected  it,  especially  as  the  whole  turn  of  the  Mar- 
chants  Prologue,  and  the  express  mention  of  Grisilde 
in  ver.  910O.  demonstrate,  that  he  is  supposed  to 
speak  with  the  Clerkes  Tale  fresh  in  his  memory. 

§  XXII.  The  scene  of  the  MARCHANTS  TALE  is 
laid  in  Italy,  but  none  of  the  names,  except  Damian 
and  Justin,  seem  to  be  Italian,  but  rather  made  at 
pleasure;  so  that  I  doubt  whether  the  story  be 
really  of  Italian  growth.  The  adventure  of  the 
Pear-tree  I  find  in  a  small  collection  of  Latin 
fables,  written  by  one  Adolphus,  in  Elegiac  verses 
of  his  fashion,  in  the  year  1315.  As  this  fable  has 
never  been  printed  but  once,  and  in  a  book  not  com 
monly  to  be  met  with,  I  shall  transcribe  below  (22) 

(22)  Adolphi  FabultB,  ap.  Leyser.  Hist.  Poet.  Medii  2Ev\,  p. 
2008. 

Fabula  1. 
Caecus  erat  quidam,  cui  pulcra  virago — 

In  curtis  viridi  resident  hi  cespite  quadam 

Luce.     Petit  mulier  robur  adire  Pyri. 
Vir  favet,  anaplectens  mox  robur  ubique  lacertis. 

Arbor  adunca  fuit,  qua  latuit  juvenis. 
Amplexatur  earn  dans  basia  dulcia.     Terrain 

Incepit  colere  vomere  cum  proprio. 
Audit  vir  strepitum.  nam  saepe  carentia  sensus 

Unius  in  reliquo,  HOSCO,  vigere  solet. 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES.  137 


the  material  parts  of  it,  and  1  dare  say  the  Reader 
will  not  be  very  anxious  to  see  any  more. 

Whatever  was  the  real  original  of  this  Tale,  the 
Machinery  of  the  Faeries,  which  Chaucer  has  used 
so  happily,  was  probably  added  by  himself;  and 
indeed,  I  cannot  help  thinking,  that  his  Pluto 
and  Proserpina  were  the  true  progenitors  of  Oberon 

Heu  raiser !  exclamat ;  te  lasdit  adulter  ibidem. 

Conqueror  hoc  illi  qui  dedit  esse  mihi. 
Tune  Deus  omnipotens,  qui  condidit  omnia  verbo, 

Qui  sua  membra  probat,  vascla  velut  figulus, 
Hestituens  aciem  misero,  tonat  illico ;  Fallax 

Femina,  cur  tanta  fraude  nocere  cupis? 

Percipit  ilia  virum.     Vultu  respondet  alacri : 

Magna  dedi  medicis  ;  non  tibi  cura  fuit. 
Ast,  ubi  lustra  sua  satis  uda  petebat  Apollo, 

Candida  spleadescens  Cynthia  luce  mera, 
Tune  sopor  irrepsit  mea  languida  corpora :  qutcdam 

Astitit.  insonuit  auribus  ilia  meis. 
Ludere  cum  juvene  studeas  in  roboris  alto ; 

Prisca  viro  dabitur  lux  cito,  crede  mihi. 
Quod  feci.     Dominus  ideo  tibi  munera  lucis 

Contulit.  idcirco  munera  redde  mihi. 
Add  id  it  ille  fidem  mulieri,  de  prece  cujus 

Se  sanum  credit,  mittit  et  omne  nefas. 

The  same  story  is  inserted  among  The  Fables  of  Alphonse,  printed 
by  Caxton  in  English,  with  those  of  &sop,  Avian  and  Poge^e,  with 
out  date;  but  I  do  not  find  it  in  the  original  Latin  of  Alphonsus, 


and  Titania(%3),  or  rather,  that  they  themselves 
have,  once  at  least,  deigned  to  revisit  our  poetical 
system  under  the  latter  names. 

§  XXIII.  The  PROLOGUE  to  the  Squier's  Tale 
appears  now  for  the  first  time  in  print.  Why  it  has 
been  omitted  by  all  former  Editors  I  cannot  guess, 
except,  perhaps,  because  it  did  not  suit  with  the 
place,  which  (for  reasons  best  known  to  them 
selves)  they  were  determined  to  assign  to  the 
Squier's  Tale,  that  is,  after  the  Man  of  Lawes  and 
before  the  Marchants.  I  have  chosen  rather  to 
follow  the  Mss.  of  the  best  authority  in  placing  the 
Squier's  Tale  after  the  Marchant's,  and  in  connect 
ing  them  together  by  this  Prologue,  agreeably,  as  I 
am  persuaded,  to  Chaucer's  intention.  The  lines 
which  have  usually  been  printed  by  way  of  Pro 
logue  to  the  Squires  Tale,  as  I  believe  them  to  have 
been  really  composed  by  Chaucer,  though  not  in 
tended  for  the  Squier's  Prologue,  I  have  prefixed  to 

Ms.  Reg.  10  B.  xii.  or  in  any  of  the  French  translations  of  his 
work  that  I  have  examined. 

(23)  This  observation  is  not  meant  to  extend  further  than  the 
King  and  Queen  of  Faery ;  in  whose  characters,  I  think  it  is  plain, 
that  Shakespeare,  in  imitation  of  Chaucer,  has  dignified  our  Go 
thic  Elves  with  the  manners  and  language  of  the  classical  Gods 
and  Goddesses.  In  the  rest  of  his  Faery  system,  Shakespeare, 
seems  to  have  followed  the  popular  superstition  of  his  own  time. 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES.  139 


the  Shipman's  Tale,  for  reasons,  which  I  shall  give 
when  I  come  to  speak  of  that  Tale. 

§  XXIV.  I  should  have  been  very  happy  if  the 
Mss.  which  have  furnished  the  SQUIERS  Prologue, 
had  supplied  the  deficient  part  of  his  TALE,  but  I 
fear  the  judgement  of  Milton  was  too  true,  that  this 
story  was  "  left  half-told"  by  the  author.  I  have 
never  been  able  to  discover  the  probable  original 
of  this  tale,  and  yet  I  should  be  very  hardly  brought 
to  believe  that  the  whole,  or  even  any  considera 
ble  part  of  it,  was  of  Chaucer's  invention. 

§  XXV.  We  are  now  arrived  with  the  common 
Editions  (though  by  a  different  course)  at  the 
FRANKELEINES  TALE;  and  here  again  we  must 
be  obliged  to  the  Mss.  not  indeed,  as  in  the  last  in 
stance,  for  a  new  Prologue,  but  for  authorizing  us  to 
prefix  to  this  Tale  of  the  Frankelein  a  Prologue,  which 
in  the  common  Editions  is  prefixed  to  the  Tale  of 
the  Mar  chant,  together  with  the  true  Prologue  of 
that  Tale,  as  printed  above.  It  is  scarce  conceiv 
able  how  these  two  Prologues  coud  ever  be  joined 
together  and  given  to  the  same  character,  as  they 
are  not  only  entirely  unconnected,  but  also  in  one 
point  directly  contradictory  to  each  other;  for  in 
that,  which  is  properly  the  Marchant's,  he  says  ex 
pressly  [ver.  91 10.],  that  he  had  been  married  "  two 
monthes  and  not  more ;"  whereas  in  the  other,  the 


140  INTRODUCTORY  DISCOURSE  TO 


Speaker's  chief  discourse  is  about  his  son,  who  is 
grown  up.  THIS  therefore,  upon  the  authority 
of  the  best  Mss.  I  have  restored  to  the  Franke- 
lein ;  and  I  must  observe,  that  the  sentiments  of 
it  are  much  more  suitable  to  his  character  than 
to  that  of  the  Marchant.  It  is  quite  natural,  that  a 
wealthy  land -holder,  of  a  generous  disposition,  as 
he  is  described  [ver.  332 — 62.],  who  has  been 
Sheriff,  Knight  of  the  Shire,  &c.  should  be  anxious 
to  see  his  son  (as  we  say)  a  Gentleman,  and  that  he 
should  talk  slightingly  of  money  in  comparison 
with  polished  manners  and  virtuous  endowments ; 
but  neither  the  character  which  Chaucer  has  drawn 
of  his  Marchant,  nor  our  general  notions  of  the  pro 
fession  at  that  time,  prepare  us  to  expect  from  him 
so  liberal  a  strain  of  thinking. 

§  XXVI.  THE  FRANKELEINS  TALE,  as  he  tells 
us  himself,  is  taken  from  a  British  Lay  (24) ;  and 

(24)  Les  premieres  Chansons  Francoises  furent  nommees  des 
LAIS  ;  says  M  de  la  Ravaliere,  Poes.  du  Roi  de  Nav.  t.  i.  p.  215. 
And  so  far  1  believe  he  is  right.  But  I  see  no  foundation  for  sup 
posing  with  him  [in  the  same  page]  that  the  LAY  was  une  sorte 
d'Elegie,  and  that  it  was  derived  du  mot  Latin  Lessus,  qui  signifie 
desplaintes;  or  [in  p.  217.]  that  it  was  la  chanson — la  plus  majet- 
tueuse  et  la  plus  grave.  It  seems  more  probable  that  Lai  in 
French  was  anciently  a  generical  term,  answering  to  Song  in 
English.  The  passage  which  M.  de  la  Ravaliere  has  quoted  from 
Le  Brut, 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES.  141 


the  names  of  persons  and  places,   as  well  as  the 
scene  and  circumstances  of  the  story,   make  this 

"  Molt  sot  de  Law,  molt  sot  de  notes" — 
is  thus  rendered  by  our  Layamon.  [See  before,  Essay,  &c.  n.  4&] 

Ne  cutbe  na  mon  swa  niuchel  of  song. 

The  same  word  is  used  by  Peirol  d'Alvergna,  Ms.  Crofts,  fol.  Ixxxv. 
to  denote  the  songs  of  birds  (certainly  not  of  the  plaintive  kind). 
Et  li  ausell  s'en  van  enamoran 
L'uns  per  1'autre,  et  fan  vantas  (or  cantos)  et  lais. 
For  my  own  part  I  am  inclined  to  believe,  that  Liod,  Island.  Lied, 
Teuton.  Leoth,  Saxon,  and  Lai,  French,   are  all  to  be  deduced 
from  the  same  Gothic  original. 

But  beside  this  general  sense,  the  name  of  Lay  was  particularly 
given  to  the  French  translations  of  certain  Poems,  originally  com 
posed  in  Armorican  Bretagne,  and  in  the  Armorican  language.  I 
say  the  French  translations,  because  Lay,  not  being  (as  I  can  find) 
an  Armorican  word,  coud  hardly  have  been  the  name,  by  which 
a  species  of  Poetry,  not  imported  from  France,  was  distinguished 
by  the  first  composers  in  Bretagne. 

The  chief  (perhaps  the  only  collection  of  these  Lais  that  is  now 
extant,  was  translated  into  French  octosyllable  verse  by  a  Poetess, 
who  calls  herself  Marie;  the  same  (without  doubt)  who  made  the 
translation  of  Esope,  quoted  by  Pasquier  [Rech.  J.  viii.  ch.  i.]  and 
Fauchet  [L  ii.  n.  84.],  and  placed  by  them  in  the  reign  of  St. 
Louis,  about  the  middle  of  the  XIII  Century.  Both  her  works 
have  been  preserved  together  in  Ms.  Harl.  978.  in  a  fair  band, 
which  I  see  no  reason  to  judge  more  recent  than  the  latter  end  of 
that  Century. 

The  Lais  (with  which  only  we  are  at  present  concerned)  were 
addressed  by  her  to  some  king.     Fol.  139. 
En  le  honur  de  vous,  noble  reii, 
Ki  tant  estes  pruz  e  curteis, 


INTRODUCTORY  DISCOURSE  TO 


account  extremely  probable.  The  Lay  itself  is 
either  lost,  or  buried  (perhaps  for  ever)  in  one  of 

A  ki  tute  joie  se  encline, 

E  en  ki  quoer  tuz  biens  racine, 

M'entremis  des  lais  assembler, 

Par  rime  faire  e  reconter. — 
A  few  lines  after,  she  names  herself. 

Oez,  Seignurs,  ke  dit  Marie — 

The  titles  of  the  Poems  in  this  collection,  to  the  number  of  twelve, 
are  recited  in  the  Harleian  Catalogue.  They  are,  in  general,  the 
names  of  the  principal  persons  in  the  several  Stories,  and  are  most 
of  them  evidently  Armorican ;  and  I  think  no  one  can  read  the 
Stories  themselves  without  being  persuaded,  that  they  were  either 
really  translated  from  the  Arraorican  language,  or  at  least  com 
posed  by  one  who  was  well  acquainted  with  that  language  and 
country. 

Though  these  Poems  of  Marie  have  of  late  been  so  little  known 
as  to  have  entirely  escaped  the  researches  of  Fauchet  and  other 
French  Antiquaries,  they  were  formerly  in  high  estimation.  Denis 
Piramus,  a  very  tolerable  versifier  of  the  Legend  of  St.  Edmund  the 
King  [Ms.  Cotton.  Dom.  A.  xi.],  allows  that  Dame  Marie  (as  he 
calls  her)  had  great  merit  in  the  composition  of  her  LAYS,  though 
they  are  not  all  true ; — 

E  si  en  est  ele  mult  loee, 

£  la  ryme  par  tut  amee. 

A  translation  of  her  Lays  (as  it  should  seem)  into  one  of  the 
Northern  languages  was  among  the  books  given  by  Gabriel  de  la 
Gardie  to  the  University  of  Upsal,  under  the  title  of  Varia.  Bri- 
tainwrum  Fabulce.  [See  the  description  of  the  book  by  Stephanius, 
in  Cat.  Libb.  Septent.  at  the  end  of  Hickes,  Gr.  A.  S.  edit.  1689, 
4to.  p.  180.]  That  Chaucer  had  read  them  I  think  extremely 
probable-,  not  only  from  a  passage  in  his  Dreme  [ver.  1820. — 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES.  143 


those  sepulchres  of  Mss.  which,  by  courtesy,   are 
called  Libraries  ;  but  there  are  two  imitations  of  it 

1926.],  which  seems  to  have  been  copied  from  the  Lay  of  Elidus, 
but  also  from  the  manner  in  which  he  makes  the  Frankelin  speak 
of  the  Bretons  and  their  compositions.  See  the  note  on  ver.  11021. 
However,  in  Chaucer's  time,  there  were  other  British  Lays  ex 
tant  beside  this  collection  by  Marie.  Emare  has  been  mentioned 
before,  §  XV.  An  old  I  nglish  Ballad  of  Sir  Gowther  [Ms.  Reg. 
17.  B.  xliii.]  is  said  by  the  writer  to  have  been  taken  out  of  one 
(fthe  Layes  of  Britanye  :  in  another  place  he  says — the  first  Lay 
nf  Britanye.  The  original  of  the  Frankeleins  Tale  was  probably  a 
third.  There  were  also  Lays,  which  did  not  pretend  to  be  British, 
as  Le  Lay  d'Aristote,  Li  Lais  de  I'Ohelet,  [Fabliaux,  torn.  i,].  Le 
Lai  du  Corn  by  Robert  Bikez  [Ms.  Bod.  1687.]  is  said  by  him  to 
have  been  invented  by  Garaduc,  who  accomplished  the  adventure. 
In  the  Ballad,  entitled  "  THE  BOY  AND  THE  MANTLE,"  [Anc. 
Poet.  v.  iii.  p.  1.]  which  I  suspect  to  have  been  made  up  out  of 
this  Lay  and  Le  Court  Mantel,  the  successful  knight  is  called  Cra- 
dock.  Robert  Bikez  says  further,  that  the  Horn  was  still  to  be 
seen  at  Cirencester. 

Q'fust  a  Cirincetre 

A  une  haute  feste, 

La  pureit  il  veer 

Icest  corn  tout  pur  veir. 

Ceo  dist  Robert  Bikez. — 

In  none  of  these  Lays  do  we  find  the  qualities  attributed  to  that 
sort  of  composition  by  M.  de  la  Ravaliere.  According  to  these 
examples  we  should  rather  define  the  Lay  to  be  a  species  of  serious 
narrative  poetry,  of  a  moderate  length,  in  a  simple  style  and  light 
metre.  Serious  is  here  opposed  (not  to  pleasant,  but)  to  ludicrous, 
.in  order  to  distinguish  the  Lay  from  the  Conte  or  Fabliau  ;  as  on 
the  other  hand  its  moderate  length  distinguishes  it  from  the  Gate 


144  INTRODUCTORY   DISCOURSE   TO 


extant  by  Boccace,  the  first  in  the  Vth  Book  of  his 
Philocopo,  and  the  second  in  the  Decamerom,  D.  x. 
N.  5.  They  agree  in  every  respect  with  each  other, 
except  that  the  scene  and  the  names  are  different, 
and  in  the  latter  the  narration  is  less  prolix  and  the 
style  less  flowery  than  in  the  former,  which  was  a 
juvenile  work  (25).  The  only  material  point,  in 
which  Boccace  seems  to  have  departed  from  his 
original,  is  this  :  instead  of  "  the  removal  of  the 
rockes"  the  Lady  desires  "  a  garden,  full  of  thejlow- 

or  common  Roman.  All  the  Lays  that  I  have  seen  are  in  light 
metre,  not  exceeding  eight  syllables.  See  before,  Essay,  &c.  n.  60. 
;'  (25)  I  saw  once  an  Edition  of  the  Philocopo,  printed  at  Venice, 
1503,  fol.  with  a  letter  at  the  end  of  it,  in  which  the  Publisher 
Hieronymo  Squarzaficho  says  (if  I  do  not  misremember),  "  that 
this  work  was  written  by  Boccace  at  twenty  years  of  age  (about 
133S).  while  he  was  at  Naples  in  'the  house  of  John  Barrile." 
[Johannes  Barrillus  is  called  by  Boccace  [Geneal.  Dear.  1.  sir.  c. 
1 9.]  magni  spiritus  homo.  He  was  sent  by  King  Robert  to  attend 
Petrarch  to  his  coronation  at  Rome,  and  is  introduced  by  the  lat 
ter  in  his  second  Eclogue,  under  the  name  of  Idaeus;  ab  Id&,  monte 
Cretensi,  unde  et  ipse  01  Hindus  fuit.  Intentiones  Eclogarum  Franc* 
Petrarchee,  Ms.  Bod.  558.]  Not  knowing  at  present  where  to  find 
that  Edition,  I  am  obliged  to  relie  upon  my  memory  only  for  this 
story,  which  I  think  highly  probable,  though  it  is  not  mentioned 
(as  I  recollect)  by  any  of  the  other  Biographers  of  Boccace.  A 
good  life  of  Boccace  is  still  much  wanted. 

The  adventures  of  Fiona  and  Biancofiore  (which  make  the  prin 
cipal  subject  of  the  Philocopo)  were  famous  long  before  Boccace, 
as  he  himself  informs  us,  1.  i.  p.  6.  Ed.  1723.  Floris  and  Bian- 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES.  145 


ers  and  fruits  of  May,  in  the  month  of  January"  and 
some  such  alteration  was  certainly  necessary,  when 
the  scene  came  to  be  removed  from  Bretagne  to 
Spain  and  Italy,  as  it  is  in  Boccace's  novels  (26). 
I  should  guess  that  Chaucer  has  preserved  pretty 
faithfully  the  principal  incidents  of  the  British  tale, 
though  he  has  probably  thrown  in  some  smaller 
circumstances  to  embellish  his  narration.  The  long 
list  of  virtuous  women  in  Dorigene's  Soliloquy  is 
plainly  copied  from  HIERONYMUS  contra  Jovinia- 
num. 

§  XXVII.  Thus  far  I  flatter  myself  I  have  been 
not  unsuccessful  in  restoring  the  true  order,  and 
connexion  with  each  other,  of  the  Clerkes,  the  Mar- 
chantes,  the  Squieres  and  the  Frankeleines  Tales,  but 
with  regard  to  the  next  step,  which  I  have  taken,  I 

caflor  are  mentioned  as  illustrious  lovers  by  Matfres  Eymengan  de 
Bezers,  a  Languedocian  Poet,  in  his  Breviari  d'amor  dated  in  the 
year  1288.  Ms.  Keg.  19.  C.  i.  fol.  199.  It  is  probable  however 
that  the  Story  was  enlarged  by  Boccace,  and  particularly  I  should 
suppose  that  the  Love-questions  in  1.  v.  (the  fourth  of  which  ques 
tions  contains  the  Novels  referred  to  in  the  text)  were  added  by 
him. 

(26)  The  Conte  Boiardo  (the  precursor  and  model  of  Ariosto) 
in  his  Orlando  inamorato,  1.  i.  ca.  12.  lias  inserted  a  Tale  upon  the 
plan  of  Boccace's  two  novels,  but  with  considerable  alterations, 
which  have  carried  the  Story,  I  apprehend,  still  further  from  its 
British  original. 

VOL.    I.  L 


146  INTRODUCTORY  DISCOURSE  TO 


must  own  myself  more  dubious.  In  all  the  editions 
the  Tales  of  the  Nonne  and  the  Chanones  Yeman  pre 
cede  the  Doctoures,  but  the  best  Mss.  agree  in  re 
moving  those  Tales  to  the  end  of  the  Nonnes  Prees- 
tes,  and  I  have  not  scrupled  to  adopt  this  arrange 
ment,  which,  I  think,  is  indisputably  established  by 
the  following  consideration.  When  the  Monk  is 
called  upon  for  his  Tale  the  Pilgrims  were  near  Ro 
chester  [ver.  1393*2.],  but  when  the  Chanon  over 
takes  them  they  were  advanced  to  Boughton  under 
Blee  [ver.  16024.],  twenty  miles  beyond  Rochester, 
so  that  the  Tale  of  the  Chanones  Yeman,  and  that  of 
the  Nonne  to  which  it  is  annexed,  cannot  with  any 
propriety  be  admitted  till  after  the  Monkes  Tale,  and 
consequently  not  till  after  the  Nonnes  Preestes, 
which  is  inseparably  linked  to  that  of  the  Monk. 

§  XXVIII,  These  two  Tales  therefore  of  the  Nonne 
and  the  Chanones  Yeman  being  removed  out  of  the 
way,  the  Doctoures  comes  clearly  next  to  the  Franke- 
leines ;  but  how  they  are  to  be  connected  together, 
and  whether  at  all,  is  a  matter  of  doubt.  What  I 
have  printed  by  way  of  Prologue  to  the  Doctoures 
Tale  I  found  in  one  of  the  best  Mss.  but  only  in  one : 
in  the  others  it  has  no  Prologue.  The  first  line  ap 
plies  so  naturally  and  smartly  to  the  Frankeleines 
conclusion,  that  I  am  strongly  inclined  to  believe  it 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES.  147 


from  the  hand  of  Chaucer,  but  I  cannot  say  so 
much  for  the  five  following.  *I  would  therefore  only 
wish  these  lines  to  be  received  for  the  present  (ac 
cording  to  the  Law-phrase)  de  bene  esse,  till  they 
shall  either  be  more  authentically  established,  or 
superseded  by  the  discovery  of  the  genuine  Pro 
logue. 

§  XXIX.  In  THE  DOCTOURES  TALE,  beside  Livy 
(who  is  quoted),  Chaucer  may  possibly  have  fol 
lowed  Gower  in  some  particulars,  who  has  also  re 
lated  the  Story  of  Virginia,  Conf.  Amant.  B.  vii.  but 
he  has  not  been  a  servile  copyist  of  either  of  them. 

§  XXX.  The  Pardoneres  Tale  has  a  Prologue 
which  connects  it  with  the  Doctoures.  There  is  also 
a  pretty  long  preamble,  which  may  either  make  part 
of  the  Prologue,  or  of  the  Tale.  The  Mss.  differ  in 
this  point.  I  have  chosen  to  throw  it  into  the  Tale, 
and  to  confine  the  Prologue  to  what  I  suppose  to 
be  its  proper  use,  the  introduction  of  the  new 
Speaker.  When  he  is  once  in  complete  possession 
of  his  office  of  entertaining  the  company,  his  Pre 
faces  or  Digressions  should  all,  I  think,  be  equally 
considered  as  parts  of  his  Tale. 

The  mere  outline  of  THE  PARDONERES  TALE  is 
to  be  found  in  the  Cento  Novelle  dntiche.  Nov- 
Ixxxii. 


INTRODUCTORY  DISCOURSE  TO 


§  XXXT.  The  Tale  of  the  Shipman  in  the  best 
Mss.  has  no  Prologue.  What  has  been  printed  as 
such  in  the  common  Editions  is  evidently  spurious. 
To  supply  this  defect  I  have  ventured,  upon  the 
authority  of  one  Ms.  (and,  I  confess,  not  one  of  the 
best)  to  prefix  to  this  Tale  the  Prologue,  which  has 
usually  been  prefixed  to  the  Tale  of  the  Squier.  As 
this  Prologue  was  undoubtedly  composed  by  Chau 
cer,  it  must  have  had  a  place  somewhere  in  this 
Edition,  and  if  I  cannot  prove  that  it  was  really  in 
tended  by  him  for  this  place,  I  think  the  Reader 
will  allow  that  it  fills  the  vacancy  extremely  well. 
The  Pardoneres  tale  may  very  properly  be  called, 
"a  thrifty  tale,"  and  he  himself  "  a  lerned  man" 
[ver.  15905—8.];  and  all  the  latter  part,  though 
highly  improper  in  the  mouth  of  the  "  cartels  Squier," 
is  perfectly  suited  to  the  character  of  the  Shipman. 

This  tale  is  generally  supposed  to  be  taken  from 
the  Decameron.  D.  viii.  N.  1.  but  I  should  rather  be 
lieve  that  Chaucer  was  obliged  to  some  old  French 
Fableour,  from  whom  Boccace  had  also  borrowed 
the  ground  work  of  his  Novel,  as  in  the  case  of  the 
Reves  Tale.  Upon  either  supposition,  a  great  part 
of  the  incidents  must  probably  have  been  of  his  own 
invention. 

§  XXXII.  The  transition  from  the  Tale  of  the 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


Shipman  to  that  of  the  Prior esse  is  happily  managed. 
I  have  not  been  able  to  discover  from  what  Le- 
gende  of  the  Miracles  of  our  Lady  THE  PRIORESSES 
TALE  is  taken.  From  the  scene  being  laid  in  Asia, 
it  should  seem,  that  this  was  one  of  the  oldest  of 
the  many  stories,  which  have  been  propagated,  at 
different  times,  to  excite  or  justify  several  merciless 
persecutions  of  the  Jews,  upon  the  charge  of  mur- 
thering  Christian  children  ("27).  The  story  of  Hugh 
of  Lincoln,  which  is  mentioned  in  the  last  Stanza,  is 
placed  by  Matthew  Paris  under  the  year  1255. 
§  XXXIII.  Next  to  the  Prioresse  CHAUCER  him- 

(27)  In  the  first  four  months  of  the  Acta  Sanctorum  by  Bollan- 
dus,  I  find  the  following  names  of  Children  canonized,  as  having 
been  murthered  by  Jews :  xxv  Mart.  Willielmus  Norwicensis. 
1144.  Richardus,  Parisiis.  1179.  xvii  Apr.  Rudolphtis,  Bernee. 
1287.  Wernerus,  Wesalia.  an.  eod.  Albertus,  Polonite.  1598.'  I 
suppose  the  remaining  eight  months  would  furnish  at  least  as  many 
more.  See  a  Scottish  Ballad  [Rel.  of  Anc.  Poet.  v.  i.  p.  32.], 
upon  one  of  these  supposed  murthers.  The  Editor  has  very  inge 
niously  conjectured  that  "  Mirryland"  in  ver.  1.  is  a  corruption  of 
"  Milan.''  Perhaps  the  real  occasion  of  the  Ballad  may  have  been 
what  is  said  to  have  happened  at  Trent,  in  1475,  to  a  boy  called 
Simon.  The  Cardinal  Hadrian,  about  fifty  years  after,  mentioning 
the  rocks  of  Trent,  adds,  "  quo  Judaei  ob  Simonis  ctedem  ne  aspi- 
rare  quidem  audent.  Preef.  ad  librum  de  Serin.  Lat.  The  change 
of  the  name  in  the  Song,  from  Simon  to  Hugh,  is  natural  enough  in 
this  country,  where  similar  stories  of  Hugh  of  Norviich  and  Hugh 
of  Lincoln  had  been  long  current. 


150  INTRODUCTORY   DISCOURSE    TO 


self  is  called  upon  for  his  Tale.  In  the  Prologue  he 
has  dropped  a  few  touches  descriptive  of  his  own 
person  and  manner,  by  which  we  learn,  that  he  was 
used  to  look  much  upon  the  ground ;  was  of  a  cor 
pulent  habit ;  and  reserved  in  his  behaviour.  His 
RIME  or  SIB.E  THOPAS  was  clearly  intended  to 
ridicule  the  "  palpable-gross"  fictions  of  the  com 
mon  Rimers  of  that  age,  and  still  more,  perhaps, 
the  meanness  of  their  language  and  versification. 
It  is  full  of  phrases  taken  from  Isumbras  Li  beaus 
desconus,  and  other  Romances  in  the  same  style, 
which  are  still  extant.  A  few  of  his  imitations  of 
them  will  be  pointed  out  in  the  Notes. 

§  XXXIV.  For  the  more  complete  reprobation  of 
this  species  of  Riming,  even  the  Host,  who  is  not  to 
be  suspected  of  too  refined  a  taste,  is  made  to  cry 
out  against  it,  and  to  cut  short  Sire  Thopas  in  the 
midst  .of  his  adventures.  CHAUCER  has  nothing 
to  say  for  his  Rime,  but  that  "  it  is  the  beste  he  can" 
[ver.  13856.],  and  readily  consents  to  tell  anothe 
Tale ;  but  having  just  laughed  so  freely  at  the  bad 
poetry  of  his  time,  he  might  think  it,  perhaps,  too 
invidious  to  exhibit  a  specimen  of  better  in  his  own 
person,  and  therefore  his  other  Tale  is  in  prose,  a 
mere  translation  from  "  Le  Lime  de  Melibee  et  de 
dame  Prudence"  of  which  several  copies  are  still 


THE  CANTERBURY   TALES.  151 


preserved  in  Ms.  (28).  It  is  in  truth,  as  he  calls  it, 
[ver.  13868.]  "  a  moral  tale  vertuous,"  and  was  pro 
bably  much  esteemed  in  its  time,  but,  in  this  age  of 
levity,  I  doubt  some  Readers  will  be  apt  to  regret, 
that  he  did  not  rather  give  us  the  remainder  of  Sire 
Thopas. 

§  XXXV.  THE  PROLOGUE  of  THE  MONKES  Tale 
connects  it  with  Melibee.  The  Tale  itself  is  cer 
tainly  formed  upon  the  plan  of  Boccace's  great  work 
de  casibus  virorum  illustrium,  but  Chaucer  has  taken 
the  several  Stories,  of  which  it  is  composed,  from 
different  authors,  who  will  be  particularized  in  the 
Notes. 

§  XXXVI.  After  a  reasonable  number  of  melan 
choly  ditties,  or  Tragedies,  as  the  Monk  calls  them, 
he  is  interrupted  by  the  Knight,  and  the  Host  ad 
dresses  himself  to  the  Nonnes  Freest,  to  tell  them 
"  swiche  thing  as  may  their  hertes  glade." 

THE  TALE  OF  THE  NONNES  FREEST  is  cited  by 
Dryden,  together  with  that  of  the  Wife  of  Bath,  as 
of  Chaucer's  own  invention.  But  that  great  Poet 
was  not  very  conversant  with  the  authors  of  which 

(28)  Two  copies  of  this  work  are  in  the  Museum,  Mss.  Reg. 
19  C.  vii.  and  19  C.  xi.  in  French  prose.  Du  Fresnoy,  Bibliot. 
des  Romans,  v.  ii.  p.  248.  mentions  two  copies  of  the  same  work 
en  vers,  dans  la  Bibliotheque  Seguier. 


152  INTRODUCTORY  DISCOURSE  TO 


Chaucer's  library  seems  to  have  been  composed. 
The  Wife  of  Bathes  Tale  has  been  shewn  above  to 
be  taken  from  Gower,  and  the  Fable  of  the  Cock 
and  the  Fox,  which  makes  the  ground  of  the  Non- 
nes  Preestes  Tale,  is  clearly  borrowed  from  a  col 
lection  of  JEsopean  and  other  Fables,  by  Marie  a 
French  Poetess,  whose  collection  of  Lais  has  been 
mentioned  before  in  n.  24.  As  her  Fable  is  short 
and  well  told,  and  has  never  been  printed,  I  shall 
insert  it  here  at  length  (29),  and  the  more  willingly, 

(29)  From  Ms.  Harl.  978.  f.  76. 
D  un  cok  recunte,  ki  estot 
Sur  un  femer,  e  si  chantot. 
Par  de  lez  li  vient  un  gupilz, 
Si  1'apela  par  muz  beaus  diz. 
Sire,  fet  il,  muz  te  vei  bel ; 
Unc  ne  vi  si  gent  oisel. 
Clere  voiz  as  sur  tute  rein, 
Fors  tun  pere,  qe  jo  vi  bien ; 
Unc  oisel  meuz  ne  clmnta  ; 
Mes  il  le  fist  meuz,  kar  il  cluna. 
Si  puis  jeo  fere,  dist  li  cocs. 
Les  eles  bat,  les  oilz  ad  clos, 
Chanter  quida  plus  celerement. 
Li  gupil  saut,  e  sil  prent ; 
Vers  la  forest  od  lui  s'en  va. 
Par  mi  un  champ,  u  II  passa, 
Curent  apres  tut  li  pastur ; 
Li  chiens  le  huent  tut  entur. 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES.  153 


because  it  furnishes  a  convincing  proof,  how  able 
Chaucer  was  to  work  up  an  excellent  Tale  out  of 
very  small  materials. 

Veit  le  gupil,  ki  le  cok  tient. 

Mar  le  guaina  si  par  eus  vient. 

Va,  fet  li  cocs,  si  lur  escrie, 

Qe  sui  tucns,  ne  me  larras  mie. 

Li  gupil  volt  parler  en  haut, 

E  li  cocs  de  sa  buche  saut 

Sur  un  haut  fust  s'est  muntez. 

Quant  li  gupilz  s'esf  reguardez, 

Mut  par  se  tient  enfanti!16, 

Que  li  cocs  1'ad  si  enginn6. 

De  mal  talent  e  de  droit  ire 

La  buche  comence  a  maudiro, 

Ke  parole  quant  devereit  taire. 

Li  cocs  respunt,  si  dei  jeo  faire, 

Maudire  Toil,  ki  volt  cluiner, 

Quant  il  deit  guarder  e  guaiter, 

Que  mal  ne  vient  a  lur  Seignur. 
Ceo  funt  li  fol  tut  li  plusur, 

Parolent  quant  deivent  taiser, 

Teisent  quant  il  deivent  parler. 

The  resemblance  of  Chaucer's  Tale  to  this  fable  is  obvious ;  and 
it  is  the  more  probable  that  he  really  copied  from  Marie,  because 
no  such  Fable  is  to  be  found  either  in  the  Greek  ^Esop,  or  in  any 
of  the  Latin  compilations  (that  I  have  seen)  which  went  about  in 
the  dark  ages  under  the  name  of  JEsop.  Whether  it  was  in 
vented  by  Marie,  or  whether  she  translated  it,  with  the  rest  of  her 
fables,  from  the  Anglo-Saxon  version  of  JEsop  by  King  Alfred, 
(as  she  says  herself,)  I  cannot  pretend  to  determine.  Though  no 
Anglo-Saxon  version  of  ./Esop  be  now  (as  I  can  find)  extant,  there 


154  INTRODUCTORY  DISCOURSE  TO 


§  XXXVJI.  The  sixteen  lines,  which  are  printed 
at  the  end  of  the  Nonnes  Preestes  Tale,  might  per 
haps  more  properly  be  considered  as  the  beginning 
of  the  Prologue  to  the  succeeding  Tale,  if  it  were 
certain  what  Tale  was  intended  to  succeed.  In 
both  Dr.  Askew's  Mss.  the  last  of  these  lines  is 
read  thus, — 

Seide  unto  the  Nunne  as  ye  shul  heer. — 
and  there  are  six  more  lines  to  introduce  her  Tale ; 
but,  as  these  six  lines  are  manifestly  forged  for  the 
purpose,  I  have  chosen  rather  to  adhere  to  the 
other  Mss.  which  acknowlege  themselves  defective 
in  this  part,  and  give  us  the  Nonnes  Tale,  as  I  have 
done,  without  any  introduction.  It  is  very  proba- 

may  have  been  one  formerly,  which  may  have  passed  (like  many 
other  translations  into  that  language)  under  the  name  of  Alfred  ; 
and  it  may  be  urged  in  support  of  the  probability  of  Maries  posi 
tive  assertion,  that  she  appears,  from  passages  in  her  Lais,  to  have 
had  some  knowledge  of  English.  I  must  observe  that  the  name 
of  the  King,  whose  English  Version  she  professes  to  follow,  is  dif 
ferently  stated  in  different  Mss.  In  the  best  Ms.  Harl.  978.  it  is 
plainly  Li  rets  Alured.  In  a  later  Ms.  Vesp.  B.  xiv.  it  is  Li  rets 
Henris.  Pasquier  [Recherches,  1.  viii.  c.  i.]  calls  him  Li  roi  Auuert, 
and  Du  Chesne  (as  quoted  by  Menage,  v.  ROMAN)  Li  rois  Mi 
res;  but  all  the  copies  agree  in  making  Marie  declare,  that  she 
translated  her  work  "  de  I'Anglois  en  Roman."  A  Latin  ^Esop, 
Ms.  Reg-.  15  A.  vii.  has  the  same  story  of  an  English  version  by 
order  of  a  Rex  Anglitt  Affrus. 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES.  155 


ble,  I  think,  that  Chaucer  himself  had  not  deter 
mined,  whether  he  should  connect  the  Nonnes  Tale 
with  that  of  the  Nonnes  Freest,  or  whether  he  should 
interpose  a  Tale  or  two,  or  perhaps  more,  between 
them. 

THE  TALE  OF  THE  NONNE  is  almost  literally 
translated  from  the  life  of  St.  Cecilia  in  the  Legen- 
da  aurea  of  Jacobus  Januensis.  It  is  mentioned  by 
Chaucer,  as  a  separate  work,  in  his  Legende  of 
good  women  [ver.  426.]  under  the  title  of  "  the  life 
of  Seint  Cecile,"  and  it  still  retains  evident  marks 
that  it  was  not  originally  composed  in  the  form  of 
a  Tale  to  be  spoken  by  the  Nonne  (30).  However 
there  can  be  no  doubt  that  Chaucer  meant  to  in 
corporate  it  into  this  collection  of  Canterbury  Tales, 
as  the  Prologue  of  the  Chanones  Yeman  expressly 
refers  to  it. 

§  XXXVIII.  The    introduction  of  the  Chanones 

(30)  The  whole  Introduction  is  in  the  style  of  a  person  writing, 
and  not  of  one  speaking.  If  we  compare  it  with  the  Introduction 
to  the  Prioresses  Tale  the  difference  will  be  very  striking.  See 
particularly  ver.  15546. 

Yet  pray  I  you,  that  reden  that  I  write — 

and  in  ver.  15530.  the  Relater,  or  rather  Writer,  of  the  Tale,  in 
all  the  Mss.  (except  one  of  middling  authority)  is  called  "  un 
worthy  Son  of  Eve."  Such  little  inaccuracies  are  strong  proofs  of 
an  unfinished  work.  See  before,  p.  103. 


156  INTRODUCTORY  DISCOURSE  TO 


Yeman  to  tell  a  Tale,  at  a  time  when  so  many  of 
the  original  characters  remain  to  be  called  upon, 
appears  a  little  extraordinary.  It  should  seem, 
that  some  sudden  resentment  had  determined 
Chaucer  to  interrupt  the  regular  course  of  his 
work,  in  order  to  insert  a  Satire  against  the  Al 
chemists.  That  their  pretended  science  was  much 
cultivated  about  this  time  (31),  and  produced  its 

(31)  The  first  considerable  Coinage  of  Gold  in  this  country  was 
begun  by  Edward  lit,  in  the  year  1343,  and  according  to  Cam- 
den  [in  his  Remains,  Art.  Money]  "  the  Alchemists  did  affirm  (as 
an  unwritten  verity)  that  the  Rosenobles,  which  were  coined  soon 
after,  were  made  by  projection  or  multiplication  Alchemical  of 
Raymond  Lully  in  the  Tower  of  London."  In  proof  of  this, "  be 
sides  the  tradition  of  the  Rabbies  in  that  faculty,"  they  alledged 
"  the  Inscription ;  Jesus  autem  transiens  per  medium  eorum  ibat ;" 
which  they  profoundly  expounded,  as  Jesus  passed  invisible  and  in 
most  secret  manner  by  the  middest  of  Pharisees,  so  that  gold  was 
made  by  invisible  and  secret  art  amidst  the  ignorant.  But  others 
say,  that  Text  was  the  only  amulet  used  in  that  credulous  warfar- 
ing  age  to  escape  dangers  in  battles."  Thus  Camden.  I  rather 
believe  it  was  an  Amulet,  or  Charm,  principally  used  against 
Thieves ;  upon  the  authority  of  the  following  passage  of  Sir  John 
Mandevile,  c.  x.  p.  137.  "  And  an  half  myle  fro  Nazarethe  is  the 
Lepe  of  oure  Lord :  for  the  Jewes  ladden  him  upon  an  highe 
roche  for  to  make  him  lepe  down  and  have  slayn  him :  but  Jesu 
passed  amonges  hem,  and  lepte  upon  another  roche ;  and  yit  ben 
the  steppes  of  his  feet  sene  in  the  roche  where  he  allyghte.  And 
therfore  seyn  sum  men  whan  thei  dreden  hem  of  Thefes,  on  ony 
weye,  or  of  Fnemyes ;  Jesus  autem  transiens  per  medium  illorum 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES.  157 


usual  evils,  may  fairly  be  inferred  from  the  Act, 
which  was  passed  soon  after,  5  H.  IV.  c.  iv.  to 
make  it  Felonie  to  multiplie  gold  or  silver,  or  to  use 
the  art  of  multiplication. 

§  XXXIX.  In  the  PROLOGUE'  TO  THE  MANCI 
PLES  TALE,  the  Pilgrims  are  supposed  to  be  ar 
rived  at  a  little  town  called  "  Bob  up  and  down, 
Under  the  blee,  in  Canterbury  way."  I  cannot  find 

ibat  •  that  is  to  seyne ;  Jesus  forsothe  passynge  be  the  myddes  of 
hem  hewente:  in  tokene  andmynde,  that oureXord  passed  thorghe 
out  the  Jewes  crueltee,  and  scaped  safly  fro  hem  ;  so  surely  mowe 
men  passen  the  perUe  of  Thefes"  See  also  Catal.  Mss.  Harl.  n. 
2966.  It  must  be  owned,  that  a  Spell  against  Thieves  was  the 
most  serviceable,  if  not  the  most  elegant,  Inscription  that  coud  be 
put  upon  Gold  Coin.  v 

Ashmole,  in  his  Theatntm  Chemicum,  p.  443.  lias  repeated  this 
ridiculous  story  concerning  Lully  with  additional  circumstances,  as 
if  he  really  believed  it ;  though  Lully  by  the  best  accounts  had 
been  dead  above  twenty  years  before  Edward  III  began  to  coin 
Gold. 

The  same  Author  ( Mercuriophilus  Anglicus,  as  he  styles  him 
self)  has  inserted  among  his  Hermetique  Mysteries  [p.  213.]  an  old 
English  Poem,  under  the  title  of  Hermes  Bird,  which  (he  says  in 
his  Notes,  p.  467.)  was  thought  to  have  been  written  originally  oy 
Raymund  Lully,  or  at  least  made  English  by  Oeraer  [Abbot  of 
Westminster  and  Scholar  to  Lully,  p.  465.].  The  truth  is,  that 
the  Poem  is  one  of  Lydgates,  and  had  been  printed  by  Caxton 
under  its  true  title,  The  Chorle  and  the  Bird ;  and  the  fable,  on 
which  it  is  built,  is  related  by  Petrus  Alphonsus  [de  Clericali  Dis- 
ciplind.  Ms.  Reg.  10  B.  xii.]  who  lived  above  two  hundred  years 
before  Lully. 


158  INTRODUCTORY   DISCOURSE  TO 


a  town  of  that  name  in  any  Map,  but  it  must  have 
lain  between  Boughton  (the  place  last  mentioned) 
and  Canterbury.  The  Fable  of  the  Crow,  which  is 
the  subject  of  THE  MANCIPLES  TALE,  has  been 
related  by  so  many  authors,  from  Ovid  down  to 
Gower,  that  it  is  impossible  to  say  whom  Chaucer 
principally  followed.  His  skill  in  new  dressing  an 
old  story  was  never,  perhaps,  more  successfully 
exerted. 

§  XL.  After  the  Tale  of  the  Manciple  the  common 
Editions,  since  1542  (32),  place  what  is  called  the 

(32)  In  the  Edition  of  1542,  when  the  Plowman's  Tale  was  first 
printed,  it  was  placed  after  the  Person's  Tale.  The  Editor,  who 
ever  he  was,  had  not  assurance  enough  (it  should  seem)  to  thrust 
it  into  the  body  of  the  work.  In  the  subsequent  Editions  how 
ever,  as  it  had  probably  been  well  received  by  the  publick,  upon 
account  of  its  violent  invectives  against  the  Church  of  Rome,  it  was 
advanced  to  a  more  honourable  station,  next  to  the  Manciples  Tale 
and  before  the  Person's.  The  only  account  which  we  have  of  any 
Ms.  of  this  Tale  is  from  Mr.  Speght,  who  says  [Note  prefixed  to 
Plowman's  Tale],  that  he  had  "  scene  it  in  written  hand  in  John 
Stowes  Librarie  in  a  booke  of  such  antiquitie,  as  seemed  to  kave 
been  written  neare  to  Chaucers  time."  He  does  not  say  that  it 
was  among  the  Canterbury  Tales,  or  that  it  had  Chaucer's  name  to 
it.  We  can  therefore  only  judge  of  it  by  the  internal  evidence, 
and  upon  that  I  have  no  scruple  to  declare  my  own  opinion,  that 
it  has  not  the  least  resemblance  to  Chaucer's  manner,  either  of 
writing  or  thinking,  in  his  other  works.  Though  he  and  Boccace 
have  laughed  at  some  of  the  abuses  of  religion  and  the  disorders 
of  Ecclesiastical  persons,  it  is  quite  incredible  that  either  of  them, 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES.  159 


Plowmans  Tale;  but,  as  I  cannot  understand  that 
there  is  the  least  ground  of  evidence,  either  exter 
nal  or  internal,  for  believing  it  to  be  a  work  of 
Chaucer's,  I  have  not  admitted  it  into  this  Edition. 
§  XLT.  THE  PERSONES  PROLOGUE  therefore  is 
here  placed  next  to  the  Manciples  Tale,  agreeably  to 
all  the  Mss.  which  are  known,  and  to  every  Edition 

or  even  Wiciiff  himself,  would  have  railed  at  the  whole  govern 
ment  of  the  Church,  in  the  style  of  this  Plowman's  Tale*  If  they 
had  been  disposed  to  such  an  attempt,  their  times  would  not  have 
born  it ;  but  it  is  probable,  that  Chaucer  (though  he  has  been 
pressed  into  the  service  of  Protestautism  by  some  zealous  writers) 
was  as  good  a  Catholick  as  men  of  his  understanding  and  rank  in 
life  have  generally  been.  The  necessity  of  auricular  Confession, 
one  of  the  great  scandals  of  Popery,  cannot  be  more  strongly  in- 
culcated^than  it  is  in  the  following  Tale  of  the  Person. 

I  will  just  observe,  that  Spenser  seems  to  speak  of  the  Author  of 
the  Plowmans  Tale  as  a  distinct  person  from  Chaucer,  though  (in 
compliance,  I  suppose,  with  the  taste  of  his  age)  he  puts  them  both 
on  the  same  footing.  In  the  epilogue  to  the  Shepherds  Calendar  he 
says  to  his  book, — 

Dare  not  to  match  thy  pipe  with  Tityrus  his  stile, 
Nor  with  the  Pilgrim  that  the  Ploughman  plaid  awhile. 
I  know  that  Mr.  Warton  [in  his  excellent  Observations  on  Spenser. 
v.  i.  p.  125.]  supposes  this  passage  to  refer  to  the  Visions  of  Pierce 
Ploughman,  but  my  reason  for  differing  from  him  is,  that  the  Au 
thor  of  the  Visions  never,  as  I  remember,  speaks  of  himself'm  the 
character  of  a  Ploughman. 

Of  the  Pilgrimes  Tale,  which  has  also,  with  as  little  foundation 
been  attributed  to  Chaucer  [Speght's  Life  of  Ch.]  I  shall  speak  in 
another  place. 


160  INTRODUCTORY   DISCOURSE  TO 


before  1542.  In  this  Prologue,  which  introduces, 
the  last  Tale  upon  the  journey  to  Canterbury. 
Chaucer  has  again  pointed  out  to  us  the  time  of  the 
day  ;  but  the  hour  by  the  clock  is  very  differently 
represented  in  the  Mss.  In  some  it  is  ten,  in  others 
two  :  in  most  of  the  best  Mss./owre,  and  in  one  five. 
According  to  the  phenomena  here  mentioned,  the 
Sun  being  29°  high,  and  the  length  of  the  Shadow 
to  the  projecting  body  as  1 1  to  6,  it  was  betwene 
four  and  Jive.  As  by  this  reckoning  there  were  at 
least  three  hours  left  to  sunset,  one  does  not  well 
see  with  what  propriety  the  Host  admonishes  the 
Person  to  haste  him,  because  "  the  Sonne  wol 
adoun,"  and  to  be  "fructuous  in  litel  space ;  and 
indeed  the  Person  (knowing  probably  how  much 
time  he  had  good)  seems  to  have  paid  not  the  least 
regard  to  his  admonition ;  for  his  Tale  (if  it  may  be 
so  called)  is  twice  as  long  as  any  of  the  others.  It 
is  entitled  in  some  Mss.  "  Tractatus  de  Panitentid, 
pro  Fabula,  ut  dicitur,  Rectoris,"  and  1  much  sus 
pect  that  it  is  a  translation  of  some  such  treatise.  I 
can  not  recommend  it  as  a  very  entertaining  or 
edifying  performance  at  this  day ;  but  the  Reader 
will  be  pleased  to  remember,  in  excuse  both  of 
Chaucer  and  his  Editor,  that,  considering  the  Can 
terbury  Tales  as  a  great  picture  of  life  and  manners, 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES  161 


the  piece  would  not  have  been  complete,  if  it  had 
not  included  the  Religion  of  the  time. 

§  XLII.  What  is  commonly  called  the  Retracta 
tion  at  the  end  of  the  Person's  Tale,  in  several  Mss. 
makes  part  of  that  Tale ;  and  certainly  the  appella 
tion  of  "  litel  tretise"  suits  better  with  a  single  tale, 
than  with  such  a  voluminous  work  as  the  whole 
body  of  Canterbury  Tales.  But  then  on  the  other 
hand  the  recital,  which  is  made  in  one  part  of  it  of 
several  compositions  of  Chaucer,  coud  properly  be 
made  by  nobody  but  himself.  I  have  printed  it,  as 
I  found  it  in  Ms.  Ask.  i.  with  a  few  corrections  from 
other  Mss.  and  in  the  Notes  1  shall  give  the  best 
account  that  I  can  of  it. 

Having  thus  gone  through  the  several  parts  of  the 
Canterbury  Tales,  which  are  printed  in  this  Edition, 
it  may  not  be  improper,  in  the  conclusion  of  this 
Discourse,  to  state  shortly  the  parts  which  are  want 
ing  to  complete  the  journey  to  Canterbury :  Of  the 
rest  of  Chaucer's  intended  Plan  (as  has  been  said 
before)  we  have  nothing.  Supposing  therefore  the 
number  of  the  Pilgrims  to  have  been  twenty-nine 
[see  before,  §  VI.],  and  allowing  the  Tale  of  the 
Chanones  Yeman  to  stand  in  the  place  of  that  which 
we  had  a  right  to  expect  from  the  Knightes  Yeman, 
the  Tales  wanting  will  be  only  those  of  the  five  City- 

VOL.  I.  M 


162  INTRODUCTORY  DISCOURSE,  &c. 


Mechanics  and  the  Ploughman.  It  is  not  likely 
that  the  Tales  told  by  such  characters  would  have 
been  among  the  most  valuable  of  the  set,  but  they 
might,  and  probably  would,  have  served  to  link  to 
gether  those  which  at  present  are  unconnected ;  and 
for  that  reason  it  is  much  to  be  regretted,  that  they 
either  have  been  lost,  or  (as  I  rather  (33)  believe) 
were  never  finished  by  the  Author. 

(33)  When  we  recollect,  that  Chaucer's  papers  must  in  all  pro 
bability  have  fallen  into  the  hands  of  his  Son  Thomas,  who,  at  the 
time  of  his  father's  death,  was  of  full  age,  we  can  hardly  doubt 
that  all  proper  care  was  taken  of  them ;  and  if  the  Tales  in  question 
had  ever  been  inserted  among  the  others  it  is  scarce  conceivable 
that  they  should  all  have  slipt  out  of  all  the  Copies  of  this  work,  of 
which  we  have  any  knowledge  or  information.  Nor  is  there  any 
sufficient  ground  for  imagining  that  so  many  Tales  coud  have  been 
suppressed  by  design ;  though  such  a  supposition  may  perhaps  be 
admitted  to  account  for  the  loss  of  some  smaller  passages.  See 
above,  n.  8. 


THE 

CANTERBURY  TALES. 


THE  PROLOGUE. 

WHANNE  that  April  with  his  shoures  sote  i 

The  droughte  of  March  hath  perced  to  the  rote, 
And  bathed  every  veine  in  swiche  licour, 
Of  whiche  vertue  engendred  is  the  flour  ; 
Whan  Zephirus  eke  with  his  sote  brethe 
Enspired  hath  in  every  holt  and  hethe 
The  tendre  croppes,  and  the  yonge  sonne 
Hath  in  the  Ram  his  halfe  cours  yronne, 
And  smale  foules  maken  melodie, 
That  slepen  alle  night  with  open  eye,  10 

So  priketh  hem  nature  in  hir  corages  ; 
Than  longen  folk  to  gon  on  pilgrimages, 
And  palmeres  for  to  seken  strange  strondes, 
To  serve  halwes  couthe  in  sondry  londes ; 
And  specially,  from  every  shires  ende 
Of  Englelond,  to  Canterbury  they  wende, 
The  holy  blisful  martyr  for  to  seke, 
That  hem  hath  holpen,  whan  that  they  were  seke. 
,    Befelle,  that,  in  that  seson  on  a  day,  .is 


164  THE  PROLOGUE. 


In  Southwerk  at  the  Tabard  as  I  lay,  20 

Redy  to  wenden  on  my  pilgrimage 

To  Canterbury  with  devoute  corage, 

At  night  was  come  into  that  hostelrie 

Wei  nine  and  twenty  in  a  compagnie 

Of  sondry  folk,  by  aventure  yfalle 

In  felawship,  and  pilgrimes  were  they  alle, 

That  toward  Canterbury  wolden  ride. 

The  chambres  and  the  stables  weren  wide,  28 

And  wel  we  weren  esed  atte  beste. 

And  shortly,  whan  the  sonne  was  gon  to  reste, 
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  natheles,  while  I  have  time  and  space, 
Or  that  I  forther  in  this  tale  pace,  36 

Me  thinketh  it  accordant  to  reson, 
To  tellen  you  alle  the  condition 
Of  eche  of  hem,  so  as  it  semed  me, 
And  whiche  they  weren,  and  of  what  degre  ; 
And  eke  in  what  araie  that  they  were  inne  : 
And  at  a  knight  than  wol  I  firste  beginne. 

A  KNIGHT  ther  was,  and  that  a  worthy  man, 
That  fro  the  time  that  he  firste  began  44 


THE  PROLOGUE.  165 


To  riden  out,  he  loved  chevalrie,  45 

Trouthe  and  honour,  fredom  and  curtesie. 

Ful  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.  53 

In  Lettowe  hadde  he  reysed  and  in  Ruce, 
No  cristen  man  so  bfte  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  see 
At  many  a  noble  armee  hadde  he  be. 
At  mortal  batailles  hadde  he  ben  fiftene,  6 1 

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, 
Agen  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  70 


166  THE  PROLOGUE. 


In  alle  his  lif,  unto  no  manere  wight.  71 

He  was  a  veray  parfit  gentil  knight. 
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.  78 

WITH  him  ther  was  his  sone  a  yonge  SQUIER, 
A  lover,  and  a  lusty  bacheler, 
With  lockes  crull  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  of  strengthe. 
And  he  hadde  be  somtime  in  chevachie, 
In  Flaundres,  in  Artois,  and  in  Picardie,  86 

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  floures,  white  and  rede. 
Singing  he  was,  or  floyting  all  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,  95 


THE  PROLOGUE.  167 


Juste  and  eke  dance,  andwel  pourtraie  and  write.  96 

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  ; 
And  he  was  cladde  in  cote  and  hode  of  grene     103 
A  shefe  of  peacock  arwes  bright  and  kene 
Under  his  belt  he  bare  ful  thriftily. 
Wei  coude  he  dresse  his  takel  yemanly : 
His  arwes  drouped  not  with  fetheres  lowe. 
And  in  his  hond  he  bare  a  mighty  bowe. 

A  not-hed  hadde  he,  with  a  broune  visage. 
Of  wood-craft  coude  he  wel  alle  the  usage. 
Upon  his  arme  he  bare  a  gaie  bracer,  1 1 1 

And  by  his  side  a  swerd  and  a  bokeler, 
And  on  that  other  side  a  gaie  daggere, 
Harneised  wel,  and  sharpe  as  point  of  spere  : 
A  Cristofre  on  his  breste  of  silver  shene. 
An  home  he  bare,  the  baudrik  was  of  grene. 
A  forster  was  he  sothely  as  I  gesse. 

THER  was  also  a  Nonne,  a  PRIORESSE, 
That  of  hire  smiling  was  ful  simple  and  coy  ;       119 


16B  THE  PROLOGUE. 


Hire  gretest,  othe  n'as  but  by  Seint  Eloy ;  120 

And  she  was  cleped  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  unknowe. 
At  mete  was  she  wel  ytaughte  withalle  ; 
She  lette  no  morsel  from  hire  lippes  falle,  1 28 

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  ful  moche  hire  lest. 
Hire  over  lippe  wiped  she  so  clene, 
That  in  hire  cuppe  was  no  ferthing  sene 
Of  grese,  whan  she  dronken  hadde  hire  draught. 
Ful  semely  after  hire  mete  she  raught.  ise 

And  sikerly  she  was  of  grete  disport, 
And  ful  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  pitous, 
She  wolde  wepe  if  that  she  saw  a  mous 
Caughte  in  a  trappe,  if  it  were  ded  or  bledde.      145 


THE  PROLOGUE.  169 


Of  smale  houndes  hadde  she,  that  she  fedde        u« 
With  rested  flesh,  and  milk,  and  wastel  brede. 
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  ;  hire  eyen  grey  as  glas ; 
Hire  mouth  ful  smale,  and  therto  soft  and  red  ; 
But  sikerly  she  hadde  a  fayre  forehed.  154 

It  was  almost  a  spanne  brode  I  trowe  ; 
For  hardily  she  was  not  undergrowe. 

Ful  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  shene, 
On  whiche  was  first  ywriten  a  crouned  A, 
And  after,  Amor  vincit  omnia.  162 

Another  NONNE  also  with  hire  hadde  she, 
That  was  hire  chapelleine,  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 : 
And  whan  he  rode,  men  mighte  his  bridel  here 
Gingeling  in  a  whistling  wind  as  clere,  170 


170  THE  PROLOGUE. 


And  eke  as  loude,  as  doth  the  chapell  belle,        171 
Ther  as  this  lord  was  keper  of  the  celle. 

The  reule  of  seint  Maure  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,  179 

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?     is? 
Let  Austin  have  his  swink  to  him  reserved. 
Therfore  he  was  a  prickasoure  a  right ; 
Greihoundes  he  hadde  as  swift  as  foul  of  flight: 
Of  pricking  and  of  hunting  for  the  hare 
Was  all  his  lust,  for  no  cost  wolde  he  spare. 

I  saw  his  sieves  purfiled  at  the  bond 
With  gris,  and  that  the  finest  of  the  lond. 
And  for  to  fasten  his  hood  under  his  chinne, 
He  hadde  of  gold  ywrought  a  curious  pinne:       we 


THE  PROLOGUE.  171 


A  love-knotte  in  the  greter  ende  ther  was.  197 

His  bed  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  bed, 

That  stemed  as  a  forneis  of  a  led. 

His  bootes  souple,  his  hors  in  gret  estat, 

Now  certainly  he  was  a  fayre  prelat. 

He  was  not  pale  as  a  forpined  gost.  20.^ 

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  Limitour,  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  212 

Of  yonge  wimrnen,  at  his  owen  cost. 
Until  his  ordre  he  was  a  noble  post. 
Ful  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,  221 


THE  PROLOGUE. 


And  plesant  was  his  absolution.  22-2 

He  was  an  esy  man  to  give  penance, 
Ther  as  he  wiste  to  h  an  a  good  pitance  : 
For  unto  a  poure  ordre  for  to  give 
Is  signe  that  a  man  is  wel  y shrive. 
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.        230 
Therfore  in  stede  of  weping  and  praieres, 
Men  mote  give  silver  to  the  poure  freres. 
His  tippet  was  ay  farsed  ful  of  knives, 
And  pinnes,  for  to  given  fayre  wives. 
And  certainly  he  hadde  a  mery  note. 
Wel  coude  he  singe  and  plaien  on  a  rote. 
Of  yeddinges  he  bare  utterly  the  pris. 
His  nekke  was  white  as  the  flour  de  lis.  238 

Therto  he  strong  was  as  a  champioun, 
And  knew  wel  the  tavernes  in  every  toun, 
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  lazar s  acquaintance. 
It  is  not  honest,  it  may  not  avance, 
As  for  to  delen  with  no  swiche  pouraille,  247 


THE  PROLOGUE.  173 


But  all  with  riche,  and  sellers  of  vitaille.  248 

And  over  all,  ther  as  profit  shuld  arise, 
Curteis  he  was,  and  lowly  of  servise. 
Ther  n'as  no  man  no  wher  so  vertuous. 
He  was  the  beste  begger  in  all  his  hous  : 
And  gave  a  certaine  ferrae  for  the  grant, 
Non  of  his  bretheren  came  in  his  haunt. 
For  though  a  widewe  hadde  but  a  shoo, 
(So  plesant  was  his  In  principio)  256 

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,  a«4 

That  round  was  as  a  belle  out  of  the  presse. 
Somwhat  he  lisped  for  his  wantonnesse, 
To  make  his  English  swete  upon  his  tonge  ; 
And  in  his  harping,  whan  that  he  hadde  songe, 
His  eyen  twinkeled  in  his  hed  aright, 
As  don  the  sterres  in  a  frosty  night. 
This  worthy  limitouf  was  cleped  Huberd. 

A  MARCHANT  was  ther  with  a  forked  berd,    272 


174  THE  PROLOGUE. 


In  mottelee,  and  highe  on  hors  he  sat,  27.'< 

And  on  his  hed  a  Flaundrish  bever  hat. 

His  bootes  elapsed  fayre  and  fetisly. 

His  resons  spake  he  ful  solempnely, 

Souning  alway  the  encrese  of  his  winning. 

He  wold  the  see  were  kept  for  any  thing 

Betwixen  Middelburgh  and  Orewell. 

Wei  coud  he  in  eschanges  sheldes  selle. 

This  worthy  man  ful  wel  his  wit  besette ;  asi 

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, 

But  soth  to  sayn,  I  n'ot  how  men  him  calle. 

A  CLERK  ther  was  of  Oxenforde  also, 
That  unto  logike  hadde  long  ygo.  288 

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  his  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  beddes  hed 
Twenty  bokes  clothed  in  blake  or  red, 
Of  Aristotle,  and  his  philosophic,  297 


THE  PROLOGUE. 


175 


Than  robes  riche,  or  fidel,  or  sautrie.  298 

But  all  be  that  he  was  a  philosophre, 

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. 

Of  studie  toke  he  moste  cure  and  hede. 

Not  a  word  spake  he  more  than  was  nede  ;          306 

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  teche. 

A  SERGEANT  OF  THE  LAWE  ware  and  wise, 
That  often  hadde  yben  at  the  paruis, 
Ther  was  also,  ful  riche  of  excellence.  313 

Discrete  he  was,  and  of  gret  reverence : 
He  semed  swiche,  his  wordes  were  so  wise. 
Justice  he  was  fol  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  no  wher  non. 
All  was  fee  simple  to  him  in  effect, 
His  pourchasing  might  not  ben  in  suspect.          322 


176  THE  PROLOGUE- 


NO  wher  so  besy  a  man  as  he  ther  n'as,  szs 

And  yet  he  semed  besier  than  he  was. 

In  termes  hadde  he  cas  and  domes  alle, 

That  fro  the  the  time  of  king  Will,  v/eren  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 ;         331 

Of  his  array  tell  I  no  lenger  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,  338 

That  held  opinion,  that  plein  delit 
Was  veraily  felicite  parfite. 
An  housholder,  and  that  a  grete  was  he ; 
Seint  Julian  he  was  in  his  contree. 
His  brede,  his  ale,  was  alway  after  on  ; 
A  better  envyned  man  was  no  wher  non. 
Withouten  bake  mete  never  was  his  hous, 
Of  fish  and  flesh,  and  that  so  plenteous, 
It  snewed  in  his  turns  of  mete  and  drinke,  347 


, 


THE  PROLOGUE.  1?7 


Of  alle  deintees  that  men  coud  of  thinke.  348 

After  the  sondry  sesons  of  the  yere, 

So  changed  he  his  mete  and  his  soupere. 

Ful  many  a  fat  partrich  hadde  he  in  mewe, 

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  gere; 

His  table  dormant  in  his  halle  alway 

Stode  redy  covered  alle  the  longe  day.  356 

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  sherevc  hadde  he  ben,  and  a  countoun 
Was  no  wher  swiche  a  worthy  vavasour; 

AN  HABERDASHER,  and  a  CARPENTER,          363 
A  WEBBE,  a  DEYER,  and  a  TAPISER, 
Were  alle  yclothed  in  o  livere, 
Of  a  solempne  and  grete  fraternite. 
Ful  freshe  and  newe  hir  gere  ypiked  was. 
Hir  knives  were  ychaped  not  with  bras, 
But  all  with  silver,  wrought  ful  clene  and  wel^ 
Hir  girdeles  and  hir  pouches  every  del. 
Wei  semed  eche  of  hem  a  fayre  burgeis, 
To  sitten  in  a  gild  halle,  on  the  deis.  379 

VOL.  I.  N 


178  THE  PROLOGUE. 


Everich  for  the  wisdom  that  he  can,  373 

Was  shapelich  for  to  ben  an  alderman. 

For  catel  hadden  they  ynough  and  rent, 

And  eke  hir  wives  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.  380 

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  wel  bake  a  pie. 
But  gret  harm  was  it,  as  it  thoughte  me^ 
That  on  his  shinne  a  mormal  hadde  he.  388 

For  blanc  manger  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  couthe, 
All  in  a  goune  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  broun.  396 


THE  PROLOGUE.  179 


And  certainly  he  was  a  good  felaw.  397 

Ful  many  a  draught  of  win  he  hadde  draw 

From  Burdeux  ward,  while  that  the  chapmen  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,      405 

Ther  was  non  swiche,  from  Hull  unto  Cartage. 

Hardy  he  was,  and  wise,  I  undertake : 

With  many  a  tempest  hadde  his  herd  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  or  PHISIKE,  413 
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,  42 1 


180  THE  PROLOGUE. 


Were  it  of  cold,  or  hote,  or  moist,  or  drie,  422 

And  wher  engendred,  and  of  what  humour, 

He  was  a  veray  parfite  practisour. 

The  cause  yknowe,  and  of  his  harm  the  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  other  for  to  winne  : 

Hir  frendship  n'as  not  newe  to  beginne.  430 

Wei  knew  he  the  old  Esculapius, 

And  Dioscorides,  and  eke  Rufus  ; 

Old  Hippocras,  Hali,  and  Gallien ; 

Serapion,  Rasis,  and  Avicen  ; 

Averrois,  Damascene,  and  Constantin ; 

Bernard  and  Gatisden,  and  Gilbertin. 

Of  his  diete  mesurable  was  he, 

For  it  was  of  no  superfluitee  438 

But  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  kepte  that  he  wan  in  the  pestilence. 

For  gold  in  phisike  is  a  cordial ; 

Therfore  he  loved  gold  in  special.  446 


THE  PROLOGUE. 


181 


A  good  WIF  was  ther  OF  beside  BATHE,  447 

But  she  was  som  del  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  ground  ;  455' 

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, 
Withouten  other  compagnie  in  youthe.  463 

But  therof  nedeth  not  to  speke  as  nouthe. 
And  thries  hadde  she  ben  at  Jerusaleme. 
She  hadde  passed  many  a  strange  streme. 
At  Rome  she  hadde  ben,  and  at  Boloine, 
In  Galice  at  Seint  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, 
Ywimpled  wel,  and  on  hire  hede  an  hat,  472 


182  THE  PROLOGUE. 


As  brode  as  is  a  bokeler,  or  a  targe.  473 

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  tonn :  480 

But  riche  he  was  of  holy  thought  and  werk. 
He  was  also  a  lerned  man,  a  clerk, 
That  Cristes  gospel  trewely  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,  4ss 

But  rather  wolde  he  yeven  out  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  asonder, 
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.  497 


THE  PROLOGUE.  183 


This  noble  ensample  to  his  shepe  he  yaf,  498 

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  ? 

For  if  a  preest  be  foule,  on  whom  we  trust, 

No  wonder  is  a  lewed  man  to  rust : 

And  shame  it  is,  if  that  a  preest  take  kepe, 

To  see  a  shitten  shepherd,  and  clene  shepe :         soe 

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,          514 
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.  523 


184  THE  PROLOGUE. 


What  so  he  were  of  highe,  or  low  estat,  524 

Him  wolde  he  snibben  sharply  for  the  nones. 

A  better  preest  I  trowe  that  no  wher  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  PLOWMAN,  was  his  brother, 
That  hadde  ylaid  of  dong  ful  many  a  fother.        532 
A  trewe  swinker,  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,  539 

Withouten  hire,  if  it  lay  in  his  might. 

His  tithes  paied  he  ful  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  millere, 
A  sompnour,  and  a  pardoner  also, 
A  manciple,  and  myself,  ther  n'ere  no  mo. 

THE  MILLER  was  a  stout  carl  for  the  nones,  547 


THE  PROLOGUE.  135 


Ful  bigge  he  was  of  braun,  and  eke  of  bones  ;      548 

That  proved  wel,  for  over  all  ther  he  came, 

At  wrastling  he  wold  bere  away  the  ram. 

He  was  short  shuldered  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  though  it  were  a  spade. 

Upon  the  cop  right  of  his  nose  he  hade  556 

A  wert,  and  theron  stode  a  tufte  of  heres, 

Rede  as  the  bristles  of  a  sowes  eres. 

His  nose-thirles  blacke  were  and  wide. 

A  swerd  and  bokeler  bare  he  by  his  side. 

His  mouth  as  wide  was  as  a  forneis. 

He  was  a  jangler,  and  a  goliardeis, 

And  that  was  most  of  sinne,  and  harlotries. 

Wel  coude  he  stelen  corne,  and  tollen  thries.       564 

And  yet  he  had  a  thomb  of  gold  parde. 

A  white  cote  and  a  blew  hode  wered  he. 

A  baggepipe  wel  ccade  he  blowe  and  soune, 

And  therwithall  he  brought  us  out  of  toune. 

A  gentil  MANCIPLE  was  ther  of  a  temple, 
Of  which  achatours  mighten  take  ensemple 
For  to  ben  wise  in  bying  of  vitaille, 
For  whether  that  he  paide,  or  toke  by  taille,        572 


186  THE  PROLOGUE. 


Algate  he  waited  so  in  his  achate,  573 

That  he  was  ay  before  in  good  estate. 
Now  is  not  that  of  God  a  ful  fayre  grace, 
That  swiche  a  lewed  mannes  wit  shal  pace 
The  wisdom  of  an  hepe  of  lered  men  ? 

Of  maisters  had  he  mo  than  thries  ten, 
That  were  of  lawe  expert  and  curious  : 
Of  which  ther  was  a  dosein  in  that  hous, 
Worthy  to  ben  stewardes  of  rent  and  lond  58 1 

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.         588 

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  top  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,    597 


THE  PROLOGUE.  187 


The  yelding  of  his  seed,  and  of  his  grain.  593 

His  lordes  shepe,  his  nete,  and  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 :         eos 

They  were  adradde  of  him,  as  of  the  deth. 

His  wonning  was  ful  fayre  upon  an  heth, 

With  grene  trees  yshadewed  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.         614 

In  youthe  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  grey  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  clepen  Baldeswell. 

Tucked  he  was,  as  is  a  frere  abotitd,  623 


188  THE  PROLOGUE. 


And  ever  he  rode  the  hinderest  of  the  route.        624 

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  likerous  as  a  sparwe, 
With  scalled  browes  blake,  and  pilled  berd  : 
Of  his  visage  children  were  sore  aferd. 
Ther  n'as  quiksilver,  litarge,  ne  brimston,  63 1 

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  chekes. 
Wei  loved  he  garlike,  onions,  and  lekes, 
And  for  to  drinke  strong  win  as  rede  as  blood. 
Than  wolde  he  speke,  and  crie  as  he  were  wood. 
And  whan  that  he  wel  dronken  had  the  win,         639 
Than  wold  he  speken  no  word  but  Latin. 
A  fewe  termes  coude  he,  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  philosophic, 
Ay,  Questio  quid  juris,  wolde  he  crie.  648 


THE  PROLOGUE.  189 


He  was  a  gentil  harlot  and  a  kind  ;  649 

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  full. 
Ful  prively  a  finch  eke  coude  he  pull. 
And  if  he  found  o  where  a  good  felawe, 
He  wolde  techen  him  to  have  non  awe 
In  swiche  a  cas  of  the  archedekenes  curse ;          657 
But  if  a  mannes  soule  were  in  his  purse  ; 
For  in  his  purse  he  shulde  ypunished  be. 
Purse  is  the  archedekens  helle,  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  saveth, 
And  also  ware  him  of  a  significamt. 

In  danger  hadde  he  at  his  owen  gise  665 

The  yonge  girls  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  Rouncevall,  his  frend  and  his  compere, 
That  streit  was  comen  from  the  court  of  Rome.   673 


190  THE  PROLOGUE. 


Ful  loude  he  sang,  Come  hither,  love,  to  me       674 

This  sompnour  bare  to  him  a  stiff  burdoun, 

Was  never  trompe  of  half  so  gret  a  soun. 

This  pardoner  had  here  as  yelwe  as  wax, 

But  smoth  it  heng,  as  doth  a  strike  of  flax  : 

By  unces  heng  his  lokkes  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,  682 

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-ful  of  pardon  come  from  Rome  al  hote. 

A  vois  he  hadde,  as  smale  has  hath  a  gote.          690 

No  berd  hadde  he,  ne  never  non  shuld  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  swich  an  other  pardonere. 
For  in  his  male  he  hadde  a  pilwebere, 
Which,  as  he  saide,  was  our  ladies  veil : 
He  saide,  he  hadde  a  gobbet  of  the  seyl  698 

Whiche  Thatte  Seint  Peter  had,  whan  that  he  went 


THE  PROLOGUE.  191 


Upon  the  see,  till  Jesu  Crist  him  hent.  700 

He  had  a  crois  of  laton  full  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.    708 

But  trewely  to  tellen  atte  last, 
He  was  in  chirche  a  noble  ecclesiast. 
Wei  coude  he  rede  a  lesson  or  a  storie, 
But  alderbest  he  sang  an  offertorie  : 
For  wel  he  wiste,  whan  that  song  was  songe, 
He  must  preche,  and  wel  afile  his  tonge, 
To  winne  silver,  as  he  right  wel  coude : 
Therfore  he  sang  the  merier  and  loude.  716 

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  gentil  hostelrie, 
That  highte  the  Tabard,  faste  by  the  Belle. 
But  now  is  time  to  you  for  to  telle, 
How  that  we  baren  us  that  like  night, 
Whan  we  were  in  that  hostelrie  alight.  724 


192  THE  PROLOGUE 


And  after  wol  I  telle  of  our  viage,  725 

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  speke  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,  73» 

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  feinen  thinges,  or  finden  wordes  newe. 
He  may  not  spare,  although  he  were  his  brother. 
He  most  as  wel  sayn  o  word,  as  an  other. 
Crist  spake  himself  ful  brode  in  holy  writ,  741 

And  wel  ye  wote  no  vilanie  is  it. 
Eke  Plato  sayeth,  who  so  can  him  rede, 
The  wordes  moste  ben  cosin  to  the  dede. 

Also  I  praie  you  to  forgive  it  me, 
All  have  I  not  sette  folk  in  hir  degree, 
Here  in  this  tale,  as  that  they  shulden  stonde. 
My  wit  is  short,  ye  may  wel  understonde. 

Gret  chere  made  oure  hoste  us  everich  on,       749 


THE  PROLOGUE.  193 


And  to  the  souper  sette  he  us  anon  :  750 

And  served  us  with  vitaille  of  the  beste. 
Strong  was  the  win,  and  wel  to  drinke  us  leste. 
A  semely  man  our  hoste  was  with  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.         758 
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  76'6 

At  ones  in  this  herbewe,  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  mede ; 
And  wel  I  wot,  as  ye  gon  by  the  way, 
Ye  shapen  you  to  talken  and  to  play : 
For  trewely  comfort  ne  mirthe  is  non,  775 

VOL.  i.  o 


194  THE  PROLOGUE. 


To  riden  by  the  way  dombe  as  the  ston :  776 

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 : 

And  for  to  werchen  as  I  shal  you  say 

To-morwe,  when  ye  riden  on  the  way, 

Now  by  my  faders  soule  that  is  ded, 

But  ye  be  mery,  smiteth  of  my  hed.  784 

Hold  up  your  hondes  withouten  more  speche. 

Our  conseil  was  not  longe  for  to  seche : 
Us  thought  it  was  not  worth  to  make  it  wise, 
And  granted  him  withouten  more  avise, 
And  bad  him  say  his  verdit,  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,         792 
That  eche  of  you  to  shorten  with  youre  way, 
In  this  viage,  shall  tellen  tales  tway, 
To  Canterbury  ward,  I  mene  it  so, 
And  homeward  he  shall  tellen  other  two, 
Of  aventures  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  your  aller  cost  soi 


THE  PROLOGUE.  195 

Here  in  this  place  sitting  by  this  post,  802 

Whan  that  ye  comen  agen  from  Canterbury. 

And  for  to  maken  you  the  the  more  mery, 

I  wol  my  selven  gladly  with  you  ride, 

Right  at  min  owen  cost,  and  be  your  gide. 

And  who  that  wol  my  jugement  withsay, 

Shal  pay  for  alle  we  spenden  by  the  way. 

And  if  ye  vouchesauf  that  it  be  so, 

Telle  me  anon  withouten  wordes  mo,  sio 

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,  sis 

In  highe  and  lowe :  and  thus  by  on  assent, 
We  ben  accorded  to  his  jugement. 
And  therupon  the  win  was  fette  anon. 
We  dronken.  and  to  reste  wenten  eche  on, 
Withouten  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  forth  we  riden  a  litel  more  than  pas,  «t7 


196  THE  PROLOGUE. 


Unto  the  watering  of  Seint  Thomas :  828 

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  firste  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.  836 

Now  draweth  cutte,  or  that  ye  forther  twinne. 

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,  844 

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, 
By  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  853 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE.  197 


To  kepe  his  forword  by  his  free  assent,  854 

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. 

THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 

WHILOM,  as  olde  stories  tellen  u&,  861 

Ther  was  a  duk  that  highte  Theseus. 
Of  Athenes  he  was  lord  and  governour, 
And  in  his  time  swiche  a  conquerour, 
That  greter  was  ther  non  under  the  sonne. 
Ful  many  a  riche  contree  had  he  wonne. 
What  with  his  wisdom  and  his  chevalrie,  867 

He  conquerd  all  the  regne  of  Feminie^ 
That  whilom  was  ycleped  Scythia ; 
And  wedded  the  ffeshe  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  melodic 
Let  I  this  worthy  duk  to  Athenes  ride, 
Aad  all  his  host,  in  armes  him  beside.  876 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


And  certes,  if  it  n'ere  to  long  to  here,  877 

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,          ss* 

And  of  the  temple  at  hire  home  coming. 

But  all  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. 

I  will  not  letten  eke  non  of  this  route. 

Let  every  felaw  telle  his  tale  aboute, 

And  let  se  now  who  shal  the  souper  winne.          svs 

Ther  as  I  left,  I  wil  agen  beginne. 

This  duk,  of  whom  I  made  mentioun, 
Whan  he  was  comen  almost  to  the  toun, 
In  all  his  wele  and  in  his  moste  pride, 
He  was  ware,  as  he  caste  his  eye  aside, 
Wher  that  ther  kneled  in  the  high  wey 
A  compagnie  of  ladies,  twey  and  twey, 
Eche  after  other,  clad  in  clothes  blake  : 
But  swiche  a  crie  and  swich  a  wo  they  make,      902 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE.  199 


That  in  this  world  n'is  creature  living,  903 

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  rain  home  coming 
Perturben  so  my  feste  with  crying  ? 
Quod  Theseus ;  have  ye  so  grete  envie 
Of  min  honour,  that  thus  complaine  and  crie  ? 
Or  who  hath  you  misboden,  or  offended  ?  91 1 

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 
JVictorie,  and  as  a  conquerour  to  liven, 
Nought  greveth  us  your  glorie  and  your  honour;   919 
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. 
For  certes,  lord,  ther  n'is  non  of  us  alle, 
That  she  n'hath  ben  a  duchesse  or  a  quene ; 
Now  be  we  caitives,  as  it  is  wel  sene : 
Thanked  be  fortune,  and  hire  false  whele, 
That  non  estat  ensureth  to  be  wele.  923 


200  THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


And  certes,  lord,  to  abiden  your  presence  929 

Here  in  this  temple  of  the  goddesse  Clemence 
We  han  ben  waiting  all  this  fourtenight : 
Now  helpe  us,  lord,  sin  it  lieth  in  thy  might. 

I  wretched  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,  937 

We  losten  alle  our  husbondes  at  that  toun, 
While  that  the  sege  therabouten  lay. 
And  yet  now  the  olde  Creon,  wala  wa ! 
That  lord  is  now  of  Thebes  the  citee, 
Fulfilled  of  ire  and  of  iniquitee, 
He  for  despit,  and  for  his  tyrannic, 
To  don  the  ded  bodies  a  vilanie, 
Of  alle  our  lordes,  which  that  ben  yslawe,  946 

Hath  alle  the  bodies  on  an  hepe  ydrawe, 
And  will  not  suffren  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  strete    954 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE.  201 


With  herte  pitous,  whan  he  herd  hem  speke.        955 

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,  96'3 

That  all  the  peple  of  Grece  shulde  speke, 

How  Creon  was  of  Theseus  yserved, 

As  he  that  halh  his  deth  ful  wel  deserved. 

And  right  anon  withouten  more  abode 
His  banner  he  displaide,  and  forth  he  rode 
To  Thebes  ward,  and  all  his  host  beside; 
No  ner  Athenes  n'olde  he  go  ne  ride, 
Ne  take  his  ese  fully  half  a  day,  971 

But  onward  on  his  way  that  night  he  lay  : 
And  sent  anon  Ipolita  the  quene, 
And  Emelie  hire  yonge  sister  shene 
Unto  the  toun  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  980 


202 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


Of  gold  ful  riche,  in  which  ther  was  ybete  981 

The  Minotaure  which  that  he  slew  in  Crete. 

Thus  rit  this  duk,  thus  rit  this  conquerour, 

And  in  his  host  of  chevalrie  the  flour, 

Til  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         939 

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 : 

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  waimenting,  997 

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.  IOOB 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE.  203 


To  ransake  in  the  tas  of  bodies  ded,  1 007 

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  girt  with  many  a  grevous  blody  wound, 

Two  yonge  knightes  ligging  by  and  by, 

Bothe  in  on  armes,  wrought  ful  richely : 

Of  whiche  two,  Arcita  highte  that  on,  1015 

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  blod  real 

Of  Thebes,  and  of  sustren  two  yborne. 

Out  of  the  tas  the  pillours  han  hem  tome, 

And  han  hem  caried  soft  unto  the  tente  1023 

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  ? 

And  in  a  tour,  in  anguish  and  in  wo  1032 


204  THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


Dwellen  this  Palamon,  and  eke  Arcite,  1033 

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  floures  newe, 
(For  with  the  rose  colour  strof  hire  hewe ; 
I  n'ot  which  was  the  finer  of  hem  two)  1041 

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  maketh  him  out  of  his  slepe  to  sterte, 
And  sayth,  arise,  and  do  thin  observance. 

This  maketh  Emelie  han  remembrance 
To  don  honour  to  May,  and  for  to  rise.  1049 

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. 
She  gathereth  floures,  partie  white  and  red, 
To  make  a  sotel  gerlond  for  hire  hed, 
And  as  an  angel,  hevenlich  she  song.  ros? 

The  grete  tour,  that  was  was  so  thikke  and  strong, 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE.  205 


Which  of  the  castel  was  the  chef  dongeon,          1059 
(Wher  as  these  knightes  weren  in  prison, 
Of  which  I  tolde  you,  and  tellen  shal) 
Was  even  joinant  to  the  gardin  wall, 
Ther  as  this  Emelie  had  hire  playing. 

Bright  was  the  sonne,  and  clere  that  morwening, 
And  Palamon,  this  woful  prisoner, 
As  was  his  wone,  by  leve  of  his  gayler 
Was  risen,  and  romed  in  a  chambre  on  high,      1067 
In  which  he  all  the  noble  citee  sigh, 
And  eke  the  gardin,  ful  of  branches  grene, 
Ther  as  this  fresh  e  Emelia  the  shene 
Was  in  hire  walk,  and  romed  up  and  doun. 

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  lie  sayd,  alas  !  1075 

And  so  befell,  by  aventure  or  cas, 
That  thurgh  a  window  thikke  of  many  a  barre 
Of  yren  gret,  and  square  as  any  sparre, 
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  up  sterte, 
And  saide,  cosin  min,  what  eyleth  thee, 
That  art  so  pale  and  dedly  for  to  see?  1034 


'206  THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


Why  cridest  thou  ?  who  hath  thee  don  offence?  1085 

For  goddes  love,  take  all  in  patience 

Our  prison,  for  it  may  non  other  be. 

Fortune  hath  yeven  us  this  adversite. 

Som  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.   1093 

This  Palamon  answerde,  and  sayde  again ; 
Cosin,  forsoth  of  this  opinion 
Thou  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  be. 
The  fayrnesse  of  a  lady  that  I  se 
Yond  in  the  gardin  roming  to  and  fro,  1101 

Is  cause  of  all  my  crying  and  my  wo. 
I  n'ot  whe'r  she  be  woman  or  goddesse. 
But  Venus  is  it,  sothly,  as  I  gesse. 

And  therwithall  on  knees  adoun  he  fill, 
And  sayde  :  Venus,  if  it  be  your  will 
You  in  this  gardin  thus  to  transfigure, 
Beforn  me  sorweful  wretched  creature, 
Out  of  this  prison  helpe  that  we  may  scape. 
And  if  so  be  our  destine  be  shape  mo 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE.  207 


By  eterne  word  to  dien  in  prison,  1 1 1 1 

Of  our  lignage  have  som  compassion, 
That  is  so  low  ybrought  by  tyrannic. 

And  with  that  word  Arcita  gan  espie 
Wher  as  this  lady  romed  to  and  fro. 
And  with  that  sight  hire  beaute  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:  1119 

The  freshe  beaute  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  sayest  thou  this  in  ernest  or  in  play?  1127 
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, 

That  never  for  to  dien  in  the  peine, 

Til  that  the  deth  departen  shal  us  tweine,  113$ 


208  THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


Neyther  of  us  in  love  to  hindre  other,  1137 

Ne  in  non  other  cas,  my  leve  brother ; 

But  that  thou  shuldest  trewely  forther  me 

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,  1145 

And  ever  shal,  til  that  min  herte  sterve. 

Now  certes,  false  Arcite,  thou  shalt  not  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.  1153 

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  hire  first  or  thou. 
What  wolt  thou  sayn  ?  thou  wistest  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  1162 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE.  209 


As  to  my  cosin,  and  my  brother  sworne.  lies 

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.  1171 

He  may  not  fleen  it,  though  he  shuld  be  ded, 
All  be  she  maid,  or  wide  we,  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  thy  selven  veraily, 
That  thou  and  I  be  damned  to  prison 
Perpetuel,  us  gaineth  no  raunson. 

We  strive,  as  did  the  houndes  for  the  bone,    117,9 
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.  use 

VOL  i.  p 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


Gret  was  the  strif,  and  long  betwix  hem  twey ,  1 1 89 
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,  1197 

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  tell, 
His  felaw  wente  and  sought  him  doun  in  hell : 
But  of  that  storie  list  me  not  to  write. 

Duk  Perithous  loved  wel  Arcite, 
And  had  him  knowe  at  Thebes  yere  by  yere  :     1205 
And  finally  at  request  and  praiere 
Of  Perithous,  withouten  any  raunson 
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  1214. 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE.      ,  211 


In  any  contree  of  this  Theseus,  1215 

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  spedde ; 

Let  him  beware,  his  nekke  lieth  to  wedde. 

How  gret  a  sorwe  suffereth  now  Arcite  ? 
The  deth  he  feleth  thurgh  his  herte  smite; 
He  wepeth,  waileth,  crieth  pitously;  1223 

To  sleen  himself  he  waiteth  prively . 
He  said ;  Alas  the  day  that  I  was  borne ! 
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.  1231 

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 : 
In  prison  ?  certes  nay,  but  in  paradise. 
Wei  hath  fortune  yturned  thee  the  dise,  1240 


212  THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


That  hast  the  sight  of  hire,  and  I  th'absence.     1241 

For  possible  is,  sin  thou  hast  hire  presence, 

And   art  a  knight,  a  worthy  and  an  able, 

That  by  som  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,  1249 

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. 

Alas,  why  plainen  men  so  in  commune 
Of  purveiance  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,  1257 

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  meynie  slain. 
Infinite  harmes  ben  in  this  matere. 
We  wote  not  what  thing  that  we  praien  here. 
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..  1266 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE.  213 


And  certes  in  this  world  so  faren  we.  1267 

We  seken  fast  after  felicite, 
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  I  may  not  seen  you,  Emelie,  1275 

I  n'am  but  ded  ;  ther  n'is-  no  remedie. 

Upon  that  other  side  Palamon, 
Whan  that  he  wist  Arcita  was  agon, 
Swiche  sorwe  he  maketh,  that  the  grete  tour 
Resouned  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,  1233 

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  inaist,  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  nede&  lese  my  lif.  1292 


214  THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


For  as  by  way  of  possibilitee,  1293 

Sith  thou  art  at  thy  large  of  prison  free, 
And  art  a  lord,  gret  is  thin  avantage, 
More  than  is  min,  that  sterve  here  in  a  cage. 
For  I  may  wepe  and  waile,  while  that  T  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  isoi 

Within  his  brest,  and  hent  him  by  the  herte 
So  woodly,  that  he  like  was  to  behold 
The  box-tree,  or  the  ashen  ded  and  cold. 
Than  said  he ;  O  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  1309 

Than  is  the  shepe,  that  rouketh  in  the  fold  ? 
For  slain  is  man,  right  as  another  beest, 
And  dwelleth  eke  in  prison,  and  arrest, 
And  hath  siknesse,  and  gret  adversite, 
And  often  times  gilteles  parde. 

What  governance  is  in  this  prescience, 
That  gilteles  turmenteth  innocence  ? 
And  yet  encreseth  this  all  my  penance, 
That  man  is  bounden  to  his  observance  isis 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE.  215 


For  Goddes  sake  to  leten  of  his  will,  1319 

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,  1327 

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  arid  eke  wood, 
That  hath  wel  neye  destruied  all  the  blood 
Of  Thebes,  with  his  waste  walles  wide. 
And  Venus  sleeth  me  on  that  other  side 
For  jalousie,  and  fere  of  him  Arcite.  isas 

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. 
1  n'ot  which  hath  the  wofuller  mistere. 
For  shortly  for  to  say,  this  Palamon 
Perpetuelly  is  damned  to  prison,  1344 


216  THE  KNIGHTES   TALE. 


Jn  chaines  and  in  fetters  to  ben  ded ;  1345 

And  Arcite  is  exiled  on  his  bed 
For  evermore  as  out  of  that  con  tree, 
Ne  never  more  he  shal  his  lady  see. 

You  lovers  axe  I  now  this  question, 
Who  hath  the  werse,  Arcite  or  Palamon  ? 
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,  1353 

But  sen  his  lady  shal  he  never  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  shal  he  never  mo. 
And  shortly  to  concluden  all  his  wo, 
So  mochel  sorwe  hadde  never  creature,  isei 

That  is  or  shal  be,  while  the  world  may  dure. 
His  slepe,  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.       1370 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


So  feble  were  his  spirites,  and  so  low,  1371 

And  changed  so,  that  no  man  coude  know 

His  speche  ne  his  vois,  though  men  it  herd. 

And  in  his  gere,  for  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  1379 

Both  habit  and  eke  dispositioun 

Of  him,  this  woful  lover  dan  Arcite. 

What  shuld  I  all  day  of  his  wo  endite  ? 

Whan  he  endured  had  a  yere  or  two 
This  cruel  torment,  and  this  peine  and  wo, 
At  Thebes,  in  his  con  tree,  as  I  said, 
Upon  a  night  in  slepe  as  he  him  laid, 
Him  thought  how  that  the  winged  god  Mercury  1387 
Beforne  him  stood,  and  bad  him  to  be  mery. 
His  slepy  yerde  in  hond  he  bare  upright ; 
And  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  Athens  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,          1396 


218  THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


Quod  he,  to  Athenes  right  now  wol  I  fare.          1397 

Ne  for  no  drede  of  deth  shal  I  not  spare 

To  se  my  lady,  that  I  love  and  serve ; 

In  hire  presence  I  rekke  not  to  sterve. 

And  with  that  word  he  caught  a  gret  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  HOS 

Of  maladie  the  which  he  had  endured, 

He  mighte  wel,  if  that  he  bare  him  lowe, 

Live  in  Athens  evermore  unknowe, 

And  sen  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  privite  and  all  his  cas,       ,  1413 

Which  was  disguised  pourely  as  he  was, 

To  Athenes  is  he  gon  the  nexteTvay. 

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  devise. 

And  shortly  of  this  matere  for  to  sayn, 

He  fell  in  office  with  a  chamberlain, 

The  which  that  dwelling  was  with  Emelie. 

For  he  was  wise,  and  coude  sone  espie  1422 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE.  219 


Of  every  servant,  which  that  served  hire. 
Wei  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,  1431 

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  spronge      1439 
Both  of  his  dedes,  and  of  his  good  tonge, 
That  Theseus  hath  taken  him  so  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 
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  lif  he  ladde,  1448 


220  THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


And  bare  him  so  in  pees  and  eke  in  werre,         1449 
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, 
Forpined,  what  for  love  and  for  distresse. 
Who  feleth  double  sorwe  and  hevinesse 
But  Palamon?  that  love  distraineth  so,  1457 

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  ?  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,  1465 

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  Narcotikes  and  Opie  of  Thebes  fine,          1474 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


That  all  the  night  though  that  men  wold  him  shake, 
The  gailer  slept,  he  mighte  not  awake.  1476' 

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 
With  dredful  foot  than  stalketh  Palamon. 
For  shortly  this  was  his  opinion, 
That  in  that  grove  he  wold  him  hide  all  day,       HSS 
And  in  the  night  than  wold  he  take  his  way 
To  Thebes  ward,  his  frendes  for  to  preie 
On  Theseus  to  helpen  him  werreie. 
And  shortly,  eyther  he  wold  lese  his  lifr 
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,  1491 

Til  that  fortune  had  brought  him  in  the  snare* 
The  besy  larke,  the  messager  of  day, 
Saleweth  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  greves 
The  silver  dropes,  hanging  on  the  leves, 
And  Arcite,  that  is  in  the  court  real 
With  Theseus  the  squier  principal,  1500 


THE  KMGHTES  TALE. 


Is  risen,  and  loketh  on  the  mery  day.  isoi 

And  for  to  don  his  observance  to  May, 

Remembring  on  the  point  of  his  desire, 

He  on  his  courser,  sterling  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,  1509 

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, 
Right  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,  1517 

Ther  as  by  aventure  this  Palamon 
Was  in  a  bush,  that  no  man  might  him  se, 
For  sore  afered  of  his  deth  was  he. 
Nothing  ne  knew  he  that  it  was  Arcite. 
Got  wot  he  wold  have  trowed  it  ful  lite. 
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  bere  him  even, 
For  al  day  meten  men  at  unset  Steven.  15-26 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE.  223 


Ful  litel  wote  Arcite  of  his  felaw,  1 527 

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.  1535 

Right  as  the  Friday,  sothly  for  to  tell, 
Now  shineth  it,  and  now  it  raineth  fast, 
Right  so  can  gery  Venus  overcast 
The  hertes  of  hire  folk,  right  as  hire  day 
Is  gerfull,  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  :  1543 

Alas  !  (quod  he)  the  day  that  1  was  bore ! 
How  longe,  Juno,  thurgh  thy  crueltee 
Wilt  thou  werreien  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  1552 


224  THE  KN1GI1TES  TALE. 


By  veray  line,  as  of  the  stok  real :  1553 

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  owen  name, 

But  ther  as  I  was  wont  to  highte  Arcite, 

Now  highte  I  Philostrat,  not  worth  a  mite. 

Alas  !  thou  fell  Mars,  alas!  thou  Juno,  isei 

Thus  hath  your  ire  our  linage  all  fordo, 

Save  only  me,  and  wretched  Palamon, 

That  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  ;  1569 

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  herte 
He  felt  a  colde  swerd  sodenly  glide : 
For  ire  he  quoke,  no  lenger  wolde  he  hide. 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE.  225 


And  whan  that  he  had  herd  Arcites  tale,  1579 

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  beiaped  here  duk  Theseus,  1587 

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,          15.95 

Or  thou  ne  shalt  nat  loven  Emelie. 

Chese  which  thou  wolt,  for  thou  shalt  not  asterte. 

This  Arcite  tho,  with  ful  dispitous  herte, 
Whan  he  him  knew,  and  had  his  tale  herd, 
As  fers  as  a  Icon,  pulled  out  a  swerd, 
And  sayde  thus ;  By  God  that  sitteth  above, 
N'ere  it  that  thou  art  sike,  and  wood  for  love, 
And  eke  that  thou  no  wepen  hast  in  this  place, 
Thou  shuldest  never  out  of  this  grove  pace,        1604 

VOL.  I.  Q 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


That  thou  ne  shuldest  dien  of  min  bond.  1605 

For  I  defie  the  suretee  and  the  bond, 

Which  that  thou  saist  that  I  have  made  to  thee. 

What  ?  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,  isia 

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.  iezi 

This  Palamon  answerd,  I  grant  it  thee. 
And  thus  they  ben  departed  til  a  morwe, 
Whan  eche  of  hem  hath  laid  his  faith  to  borwe. 

O  Cupide,  out  of  alle  charitee ! 
O  regne,  that  wolt  no  felaw  have  with  thee  ! 
Ful  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,  icao 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE.  227 


And  on  the  raorwe,  or  it  were  day  light,  iesi 

Ful  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  in  hir  face.  1639 

Right  as  the  hunter  in  the  regne  of  Trace 

That  stondeth  at  a  gappe  with  a  spere, 

Whan  hunted  is  the  lion  or  the  bere, 

And  hereth  him  come  rushing  in  the  greves, 

And  breking  bothe  the  boughes  and  the  leves, 

And  thinketh,  here  cometh  my  mortal  enemy, 

Withouten  faille,  he  must  be  ded  or  I ; 

For  eyther  I  mote  slen  him  at  the  gappe;  1647 

Or  he  mote  slen  me,  if  that  me  mishappe  : 

So  ferden  they,  in  changing  of  hir  hewe, 

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.          ifise 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


Thou  mightest  wenen,  that  this  Palamon  165? 

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,  1660 

That  executeth  in  the  world  over  al 
The  purveiance,  that  God  hath  sen  beforne  ; 
So  strong  it  is,  that  though  the  world  had  sworne 
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. 
For  certainly  our  appetites  here, 
Be  it  of  werre,  or  pees,  or  hate,  or  love,  IG~S 

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  beside. 
For  in  his  hunting  hath  he  swiche  delite, 
That  it  is  all  his  joye  and  appetite  1682 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE.  229 


To  ben  himself  the  grete  hartes  bane,  ies.3 

For  after  Mars  he  serveth  now  Diane. 

Clere  was  the  day,  as  I  have  told  or  this, 
And  Theseus,  with  alle  joye  and  blis, 
With  his  Ipolita,  the  fayre  quene, 
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,        1691 
Duk  Theseus  the  streite  way  hath  hold. 
And  to  the  launde  he  rideth  him  ful  right, 
Ther  was  the  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  commaunde. 
And  when  this  duk  was  comen  to  the  launde, 
Under  the  sonne  he  loked,  and  anon  1699 

He  was  ware  of  Arcite  and  Palamon, 
That  foughten  breme,  as  it  were  bolles  two. 
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  courser  with  his  sporres  smote, 
And  at  a  stert  he  was  betwix  hem  two, 
And  pulled  out  a  swerd,  and  cried,  ho !  iros 


230  THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


No  more,  up  peine  of  lesing  of  your  hed.  170.9 

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  ?          1717 
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. 
And  sle  me  first,  for  seinte  charitee. 
But  sle  my  felaw  eke  as  wel  as  me. 
Or  sle  him  first,  for  though  thou  know  it  lite,      1725 
This  is  thy  mortal  fo,  this  is  Arcite, 
That  fro  thy  lond  is  banished  on  his  hed, 
For  which  he  hath  deserved  to  be  ded. 
For  this  is  he  that  came  unto  thy  gate 
And  sayde,  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  1734 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


I  make  plainly  my  confession,  i?85 

That  I  am  thilke  woful  Palamon, 

That  hath  thy  prison  broken  wilfully. 

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  iewise. 

But  sle  my  felaw  in  the  same  wise. 

For  both  we  have  deserved  to  be  slain.  1743 

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  nedeth  not  to  peine  you  with  the  corde. 
Ye  shul  be  ded  by  mighty  Mars  the  rede. 

The  quene  anon  for  veray  womanhede 
Gan  for  to  wepe,  and  so  did  Emelie,  1751 

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  gret  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,  i7fio 


233  THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


And  wold  have  kist  his  feet  ther  as  he  stood,      1761 

Till  at  the  last,  aslaked  was  his  mood ; 

(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  of  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  though te  wel  that  every  man  i?6& 

Wol  helpe  himself  in  love  if  that  he  can, 

And  eke  deliver  himself  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,  1777 

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.         1786 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE.  233 


The  god  of  love,  a!  benedicite,  1757 

How  mighty  and  how  grete  a  lord  is  he  ? 
Again  his  might  ther  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,  1795 

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  ? 
Behold  for  Goddes  sake  that  sitteth  above, 
Se  how  they  blede !  be  they  not  wel  araied  ?       1803 
Thus  hath  hir  lord,  the  god  of  love,  hem  paied 
Hir  wages,  and  hir  fees  for  hir  service. 
And  yet  they  wenen  for  to  be  ful  wise, 
That  serven  love,  for  ought  that  may  befalle. 
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.  isia 


234  THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


But  all  mote  ben  assaied  hote  or  cold  ;  is  13 

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  quene  that  kneleth  here,  1321 

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  lordship  and  of  mercie  praid,  1829 

And  he  hem  granted  grace,  and  thus  he  said  : 

To  speke  of  real  linage  and  richesse, 
Though  that  she  were  a  quene  or  a  princesse, 
Eche  of  you  bothe  is  worthy  dou teles 
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  :  isss 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


But  on  of  you,  al  be  him  loth  or  lefe,  1839 

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  of  that  I  shal  devise. 

My  will  is  this  for  plat  conclusion  184? 

Withouten  any  replication, 
If  that  you  liketh,  take  it  for  the  beste, 
That  everich  of  you  shal  gon  wher  him  leste 
Freely  withouten  raunson  or  dangere ; 
And  this  day  fifty  wekes,  ferre  ne  nere, 
Everich  of  you  shal  bring  an  hundred  knightes, 
Armed  for  listes  up  at  alle  rightes 
Alle  redy  to  darrein  hire  by  bataille.  '      isss 

And  this  behete  I  you  withouten  faille 
Upon  my  trouth,  and  as  I  am  a  knight, 
That  whether  of  you  bothe  hath  that  might, 
This  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,  1864 


236  THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


And  God  so  wisly  on  my  soule  rewe,  1865 

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  if  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  springeth  up  for  joye  but  Arcite  ?  1873 

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  blith 
They  taken  hir  leve,  and  homeward  gan  they  ride  issi 
To  Thebes,  with  his  olde  walles  wide. 

I  trowe  men  wolde  deme  it  negligence, 
If  I  foryete  to  tellen  the  dispence 
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'as. 
The  circuite  a  mile  was  aboute, 
Walled  of  stone,  and  diched  all  withoute. 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE.  237 


Round  was  the  shape,  in  manere  of  a  compas     isoi 

Ful  of  degrees,  the  hight  of  sixty  pas, 

That  whan  a  man  was  set  on  o  degree 

He  letted  not  his  felaw  for  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,  1899 

That  geometric,  or  arsmetrike  can, 

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  upon  the  gate  above, 
In  worship  of  Venus  goddesse  of  loye, 
Don  make  an  auter  and  an  oratorie ;  1907 

And  westward  in  the  minde  and  in  memorie 
Of  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  noble  wise. 

But  yet  had  I  foryetten  to  devise  1916 


238  THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


The  noble  kerving,  and  the  portreitures,  1917 

The  shape,  the  contenance  of  the  figures 
That  weren  in  these  oratories  three. 

First  in  the  temple  of  Venus  maist  thou  see 
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  ;  1925 

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  hire  bond, 
Festes,  instrumentes,  and  caroles  and  dances,     1933 
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, 
Ther  Venus  hath  hire  principal  dwelling, 
Was  shewed  on  the  wall  in  purtreying, 
With  all  the  gardin,  and  the  lustinesse. 
Nought  was  foryetten  the  porter  idelnesse,         1942 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE.  239 


Ne  Narcissus  the  fayre  of  yore  agon,  1943 

Ne  yet  the  folie  of  king  Salomon, 

Ne  yet  the  grete  strengthe  of  Hercules, 

Th'  enchantment  of  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  Veuus  holden  champartie,  1951 

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  Venus  glorious  for  to  see 
Was  naked  fleting  in  the  large  see, 
And  fro  the  navel  doun  all  covered  was  1959 

With  wawes  grene,  and  bright  as  any  glas. 
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  sene ; 
A  bow  he  bare  and  arwes  bright  and  kene.         1968 


"240  THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


Why  shulde  I  not  as  wel  eke  tell  you  all         1969 
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  grisly  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,  1977 

In  which  ther  wonneth  neyther  man  ne  best, 
With  knotty  knarry  barrein  trees  old 
Of  stubbes  sharpe  and  hidous  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,  of  which  the'  entree 
Was  longe  and  streite,  and  gastly  for  to  see.      1986 
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, 
For  window  on  the  wall  ne  was  ther  none, 
Thurgh  which  men  mighten  any  light  discerne. 
The  dore  was  all  of  athamant  eterne, 
Yclenched  overthwart  and  endelong 
With  yren  tough,  and  for  to  make  it  strong,       1994 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE.  241 


Every  piler  the  temple  to  sustene  1995 

Was  tonne-gret,  of  yren  bright  and  shene. 

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  knif  under  the  cloke, 
The  shepen  brenning  with  the  blake  smoke  ; 
The  treson  of  the  mordring  in  the  bedde,  2003 

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,  2011 

With  discomfort  and  sory  contenance. 
Yet  saw  I  woodnesse  laughing  in  his  rage, 
Armed  complaint,  outhees,  and  fiers  outrage  ; 
The  carraine  in  the  bush,  with  throte  ycorven, 
A  thousand  slain,  and  not  of  qualme  ystorven  ; 
The  tirant,  with  the  prey  by  force  yraft; 
The  toun  destroied,  ther  was  nothing  laft. 
Yet  saw  I  brent  the  shippes  hoppesteres, 
The  hunte  ystrangled  with  the  wilde  beres  :        2020 
VOL.  i.  R 


242 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


The  sow  freting  the  child  right  in  the  cradel ;     2021 
The  coke  yscalled,  for  all  his  long  ladel. 
Nought  was  foryete  by  th'  infortune  of  Marte 
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  202.9 

Saw  I  conquest,  sitting  in  gret  honour, 
With  thilke  sharpe  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  ther  beforne, 
By  manacing  of  Mars,  right  by  figure,  2037 

So  was  it  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  reken  hem  alle,  though  I  wolde. 

The  statue  of  Mars  upon  a  carte  stood 
Armed,  and  loked  grim  as  he  were  wood, 
And  over  his  hed  ther  shinen  two  figures 
Of  sterres,  that  ben  cleped  in  scriptures,  2046 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE.  243 


That  on  Puella,  that  other  Rubeus.  2047 

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  redouting  of  Mars  and  of  his  glorie. 

Now  to  the  temple  of  Diane  the  chaste 
As  shortly  as  I  can  I  wol  me  haste, 
To  tellen  you  of  the  descriptioun,  2055 

Depeinted  by  the  walles  up  and  douri, 
Qf  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  was  it  peinted,  I  can  say  no  ferre; 
Hire  sone  is  eke  a  sterre  as  men  may  see.  2068 

Ther  saw  I  Dane  yturned  til  a  tree, 
I  mene  not  hire  the  goddesse  Diane, 
But  Peneus  daughter,  which  that  highte  Dane. 
Ther  saw  I  Atteon  an  hart  ymaked, 
For  vengeance  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  peinted  was  a  litel  forthermore, 
How  Athalante  hunted  the  wilde  bore,  2072 


944  THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


And  Meleagre,  and  many  another  mo,  2073 

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  ful  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,  2081 

With  bow  in  bond,  and  arwes  in  a  cas. 
Hire  eyen  caste  she  ful  low  adoun, 
Ther  Pluto  hath  his  derke  regioun. 
A  woman  travailling  was  hire  beforne, 
But  for  hire  childe  so  longe  was  unborne 
Ful  pitously  Lucina  gan  she  call, 
And  sayed ;  helpe,  for  thou  mayst  beste  of  all. 
Wei  coude  he  peinten  lifly  that  it  wrought,        2039 
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  wol  of  Theseus  a  lite, 
And  speke  of  Palamon  and  of  Arcite. 

The  day  approcheth  of  hir  returning, 
That  everich  shuld  an  hundred  knightes  bring,  2093 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE.  245 


The  bataille  to  darreine,  as  I  you  told ;  2099 

And  til  Athenes  hir  covenant  for  to  hold, 

Hath  everich  of  hem  brought  an  hundred  knightes 

Wei  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  loiid, 

N'as  of  so  fewe,  so  noble  a  compagnie.  2107 

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  eas, 

Ye  knowen  wel,  that  every  lusty  knight, 

That  loveth  par  amour,  and  hath  his  might, 

Were  it  in  Englelond,  or  elleswher,  2115 

They  wold  hir  thankes  willen  to  be  ther. 

To  fight  for  a  lady,  a  !  benedicite, 

It  were  a  lusty  sighte  for  to  se. 

And  right  so  fer  den  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 ; 
And  som  wol  have  a  pair  of  plates  large,  . 
And  som  wol  have  a  Pruce  sheld,  or  a  targe ;    2124 


U246  THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


Som  wol  ben  armed  on  his  legges  wele,  2125 

And  have  an  axe,  and  some  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  berd,  and  manly  was  his  face. 
The  cercles  of  his  eyen  in  his  hed  2133 

They  gloweden  betwixen  yelwe  and  red, 
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  longe. 
And  as  the  guise  was  in  his  contree, 
Ful  highe  upon  a  char  of  gold  stood  he, 
With  foure  white  bolles  in  the  trais.  2141 

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, 
Upon  his  hed  sate  ful  of  stones  bright, 
Of  fine  rubins  and  of  diamants. 
About  his  char  ther  wenten  white  alauns,  2150 


THE  KNIGHTES   TALE.  247 


Twenty  and  mo,  as  gret  as  any  stere,  2151 

To  hunten  at  the  leon  or  the  dere, 

And  folwed  him,  with  mosel  fast  ybouiid, 

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, 
Upon  a  stede  bay,  trapped  in  stele,  215,9 

Covered  with  cloth  of  gold  diapred  wele, 
Came  riding  like  the  god  of  armes  Mars. 
His  cote  armure  was  of  a  cloth  of  Tars, 
Couched  with  perles,  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,  2167 

And  that  was  yelwe,  and  glitered  as  the  sonne. 
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  somdel  ymeint, 
And  as  a  leon  he  is  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. 


248  THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


Upon  his  hed  he  wered  of  laurer  grene  2177 

A  gerlond  fresshe  and  lusty  for  to  sene. 

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, 

Ful  richely  in  alle  manere  thinges. 

For  trusteth  wel,  that  erles,  dukes,  kinges 

Were  gathered  in  this  noble  compagnie,  2185 

For  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 
Abouten  prime,  and  in  the  toun  alight. 

This  Theseus,  this  duk,  this  worthy  knight, 
Whan  he  had  brought  hem  into  his  citee,  2193 

And  inned  hem,  everich  at  his  degree, 
He  festeth  hem,  and  doth  so  gret  labour  , 
To  esen  hem,  and  don  hem  all  honour, 
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,  2202 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


249 


What  ladies  fayrest  ben  or  best  dancing,  2203 

Or  which  of  hem  can.  carole  best  or  sing, 

Ne  who  most  felingly  speketh  of  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  leste. 

The  Sonday  night,  or  day  began  to  spring,     2211 
Whan  Palamon  the  larke  herde  sing, 
Although  it  n'ere  not  day  by  houres  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  blisful  Citherea  benigne, 
I  mene  Venus,  honourable  and  digne. 
And  in  hire  houre,  he  walketh  forth  a  pas          '221,9 
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  Venus, 
Daughter  to  Jove,  aud  spouse  of  Vulcanus, 
Thou  glader  of  the  mount  of  Citheron, 
For  thilke  love  thou  haddest  to  Adon 
Have  pitee  on  my  bitter  teres  smert, 
And  take  myn  humble  praier  at  thin  herte.          2228 


"250  THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


Alas !  I  ne  have  no  langage  to  tell  2229 

The  effecte,  ne  the  torment  of  min  hell ; 
Min  herte  may  min  harmes  not  bewrey  ; 
I  am  so  confuse,  that  I  cannot  say. 
But  rnercy,  lady  bright,  that  knowest  wele 
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,  2237 

And  holden  werre  alway  with  chastite  : 
That  make  I  min  avow,  so  ye  me  helpe. 
I  kepe  nought  of  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  up  and  doun, 
But  I  wold  have  fully  possessioun 
Of  Emelie,  and  die  in  hire  servise  ;  2245 

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,  2254 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE.  251 


I  wol  don  sacrifice,  and  fires  bete.  2255 

And  if  ye  wol  not  so,  my  lady  swete, 
Than  pray  I  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,  2-263 

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 ;         2271 
And  with  glad  herte  he  went  him  home  ful  sone. 

The  thridde  houre  inequal  that  Palamon 
Began  to  Venus  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.  2280 


252  THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


The  homes  ful  of  mede,  as  was  the  gise,  2231 

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  charge  :        2259 

But  it  is  good  a  man  to  ben  at  large. 

Hire  bright  here  kembed  was,  untressed  all. 

A  coroune  of  a  grene  oke  cerial 

Upon  hire  hed  was  set  ful  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  2297 
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  of  the  regne  of  Pluto,  derke  and  lowe, 
Goddesse  of  maydens,  that  min  herte  hast  knowe 
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  2306 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE.  253 


Desire  to  ben  a  mayden  all  my  lif,  2307 

Ne  never  wol  I  be  no  Iqve  ne  wif. 
I  am  (thou  wost)  yet  of  thy  compagnie, 
A  mayde,  and  love  hunting  and  venerie, 
And  for  to  walken  in  the  wodes  wilde, 
•  And  not  to  ben  a  wif,  and  be  with  childe. 
Nought  wol  I  knowen  compagnie  of  man. 
Now  helpe  me,  lady,  sith  ye  may  and  can, 
For  tho  three  formes  that  thou  hast  in  thee.        2315 
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.  2323 

And  if  so  be  thou  wolt  not  do  me  grace, 
Or  if  my  destinee  be  shapen  so, 
That  I  shall  nedes  have  on  of  hem  two, 
As  sende  me  him  that  most  desireth  me. 

Beholde,  goddesse  of  clene  chastite, 
The  bitter  teres,  that  on  my  chekes  fall. 
Sin  thou  art  mayde,  and  keper  of  us  all, 
My  maydenhed  thou  kepe  and  wel  conserve, 
And  while  I  live,  a  mayde  I  wol  thee  serve.         2332 


254  THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


The  fires  brenne  upon  the  auter  clere,  2333 

While  Emelie  was  thus  in  hire  praiere: 
But  sodenly  she  saw  a  sighte  queinte. 
For  right  anon  on  of  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  brenning. 
And  at  the  brondes  ende  outran  anon  2341 

As  it  were  blody  dropes  many  on  : 
For  which  so  sore  agast  was  Emelie, 
That  she  was  wel  neigh  mad,  and  gan  to  crie, 
For  she  ne  wiste  what  it  signified ; 
But  only  for  the  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,        2349 
And  sayde  ;  doughter,  stint  thin  hevinesse. 
Among  the  goddes  highe  it  is  afFermed, 
And  by  eterne  word  written  and  confermed, 
Thou  shalt  be  wedded  unto  on  of  tho, 
That  han  for  thee  so  mochel  care  and  wo : 
But  unto  which  of  hem  1  may  not  tell. 
Fare'wel,  for  here  I  may  no  longer  dwell. 
The  fires  which  that  on  min  auter  brenne, 
Shal  thee  declaren  er  that  thou  go  henne,  ascs 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE.  255 


Thin  aventure  of  love,  as  in  this  cas.  2359 

And  with  that  word,  the  arwes  in  the  cas 

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  putte  me  in  thy  protection, 

Diane,  and  in  thy  disposition. 

And  home  she  goth  anon  the  nexte  way.  236?; 

This  is  the  effecte,  ther  n'is  no  more  to  say. 
The  nexte  houre  of  Mars  folwing  this 

Arcite  unto  the  temple  walked  is 

Of  fierce  Mars,  to  don  his  sacrifise 

With  all  the  rites  of  his  payen  wise. 

With  pitous  herte  and  high  devotion, 

Right  thus  to  Mars  he  sayde  his  orison. 

O  stronge  god,  that  in  the  regnes  cold  2375 

Of  Trace  honoured  art,  and  lord  yhold, 

And  hast  in  every  regne  and  every  lond 

Of  armes  all  the  bridel  in  thin  hond, 

And  hem  fortunest  as  thee  list  devise, 

Accept  of  me  my  pitous  sacrifise. 

If  so  be  that  my  youthe  may  deserve, 

And  that  my  might  be  worthy  for  to  serve 

Thy  godhed,  that  I  may  ben  on  of  thine, 

Than  praie  I  thee  to  rewe  upon  my  pine,  2384 


256  THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


For  thilke  peine,  and  thilke  hote  fire,  2385 

In  which  thou  whilom  brendest  for  desire 
Whanne  that  thou  usedest  the  beautee 
Of  fayre  yonge  Venus,  freshe  and  free, 
And  haddest  hire  in  armes  at  thy  wille  : 
Although  thee  ones  on  a  time  misfille, 
Whan  Vulcanus  had  caught  thee  in  his  las, 
And  fond  thee  ligging  by  his  wif,  alas  ! 
For  thilke  sorwe  that  was  tho  in  thin  herte,         2393 
Have  reuthe  as  wel  upon  my  peines  smerte. 
I  am  yonge  and  unkonning,  as  thou  wost, 
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  place :     2401 
And  wel  I  wot,  withouten  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  2410 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE.  257 


In  thy  plesance  and  in  thy  craftes  strong.  2411 

And  in  thy  temple  I  wol  my  baner  hong, 

And  all  the  armes  of  my  compagnie, 

And  evermore,  until  that  day  I  die, 

Eterne  fire  I  wol  beforne  thee  find. 

And  eke  to  this  avow  I  wol  me  bind. 

My  berd,  my  here  that  hangeth  long  adoun, 

That  never  yet  felt  non  offension 

Of  rasour  ne  of  shere,  I  wol  thee  yeve,  2419 

And  ben  thy  trewe  servant  while  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  ful  fast, 
Of  which  Arcita  somwhat  him  agast. 
The  fires  brent  upon  the  auter  bright,  2427 

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  ring; 
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.      2436 

VOL.  i.  s 


258  THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


And  thus  with  joye,  and  hope  wel  to  fare        2437 
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  Mars  the  sterne  god  armipotent, 
That  Jupiter  was  besy  it  to  stent : 
Til  that  the  pale  Saturnus  the  colde,  2445 

That  knew  so  many  of  aventures  olde, 
Fond  in  his  old  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-renne,  but  not  out-rede. 

Saturne  anon,  to  stenten  strif  and  drede, 
Al  be  it  that  it  is  again  his  kind,  2453 

Of  all  this  strif  he  gan  a  remedy  find. 

My  dere  doughter  Venus,  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  murmure,  and  the  cherles  rebelling, 
The  groyning,  and  the  prive  empoysoning.         2462 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE.  259 


I  do  vengeance  and  pleine  correction,  2463 

While  I  dwell  in  the  signe  of  the  leon. 

Min  is  the  ruine  of  the  highe  halles, 

The  falling  of  the  toures  and  of  the  walles 

Upon  the  minour,  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.  2471 

Now  wepe  no  more,  I  shall  do  diligence, 

That  Palamon,  that  is  thin  owen  knight, 

Shal  h  ave  his  lady,  as  thou  hast  him  hight. 

Thogh  Mars  shal  help  his  knight  yet  natheles. 

Betwixen  you  ther  mot  somtime  be  pees: 

All  be  ye  not  of  o  complexion, 

That  causeth  all  day  swiche  division. 

I  am  thin  ayel,  redy  at  thy  will ;  2479 

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  1  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,      2488 


260 


THE  KNJGHTES  TALE. 


And  spenden  it  in  Venus  highe  servise.  2489 

But  by  the  cause  that  they  shulden  rise 

Erly  a-morwe  for  to  seen  the  fight, 

Unto  hir  reste  wenten  they  at  night. 

And  on  the  morwe  whan  the  day  gan  spring,. 

Of  hors  and  harneis  noise  and  clattering 

Ther  was  in  the  hostelries  all  aboute : 

And  to  the  paleis  rode  ther  many  a  route 

Of  lordes,  upon  stedes  and  palfreis.  2497 

Ther  mayst  thou  see  devising  of  harneis 
So  uncouth  and  so  riche,  and  wrought  so  wele 
Of  goldsmithry,  of  brouding,  and  of  stele ; 
The  sheldes  brighte,  testeres,  and  trappures; 
Gold-hewen  helmes,  hauberkes,  cote  armures  ; 
Lordes  in  parementes  on  hir  courseres, 
Knightes  of  retenue,  and  eke  squieres, 
Nailing  the  speres,  and  helmes  bokeling,  ssoc 

Gniding  of  sheldes,  with  lainers  lacing; 
Ther  as  nede  is,  they  weren  nothing  idel : 
The  fomy  stedes  on  the  golden  bridel 
Gnawing,  and  fast  the  annureres  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 ;  2514 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


The  paleis  ful  of  peple  up  and  doun,  2515 

Here  three,  ther  ten,  holding  hir  questioun, 
Devining  of  these  Theban  knightes  two. 
Som  sayden  thus,  som  sayde  it  shal  be  so  ; 
Som  helden  with  him  with  the  blacke  berd, 
Som  with  the  balled,  som  with  the  thick  herd^ 
Som  saide  he  loked  grim,  and  wolde  fighte  : 
He  hath  a  sparth  of  twenty  pound  of  wighte. 

Thus  was  the  halle  full  of  devining  2.523 

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  riche^. 
Til  that  the  Theban  knightes  bothe  yliche 
Honoured  were,  and  to  the  paleis  fette. 

Duk  Theseus  is  at  a  window  sette, 
Araied  right  as  he  were  a  god  in  trone :  2531 

The  peple  preseth  thiderward  ful  sone 
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  mighty  dukes  will. 

The  lord  hath  of  his  high  discretion 
Considered,  that  it  were  destruction  2540 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


To  gentil  blood,  to  fighten  in  the  gise  2541 

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  peine  of  losse  of  lif, 
No  maner  shot  ne  pollax,  ne  short  knif 
Into  the  listes  send,  or  thider  bring. 
Ne  short  swerd  for  to  stike  with  point  biting 
No  man  ne  draw,  ne  bere  it  by  his  side.  2549 

Ne  no  man  shal  unto  his  felaw  ride 
But  o  cours,  with  a  sharpe  ygrounden  spere  : 
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  2557 

On  eyther  side,  or  elles  sleth  his  make, 
No  longer  shai  the  tourneying  ylast. 
God  spede  you  ;  goth  forth  and  lay  on  fast. 
With  long  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.  2566 


THE  KN1GHTES  TALE. 


Up  gon  the  trompes  and  the  melodic,  2567 

And  to  the  listes  rit  the  compagnie 
JBy  ordinance,  thurghout  the  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 
Of  on  and  other,  after  hir  degree.  2575 

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       2533 
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  face. 
In  all  the  world  to  seken  up  and  doun, 
So  even  without  variatioun 
Ther  n'ere  swiche  compagnies  never  twey. 
For  ther  was  non  so  wise  that  coude  sey,  2592 


264  THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


That  any  hadde  of  other  avantage  2593 

Of  worthinesse,  ne  of  estat,  ne  age 
So  even  were  they  chosen  for  to  gesse. 
And  in  two  renges  fayre  they  hem  dresse. 
Whan  that  hir  names  red  were  everich  on, 
That  in  hir  nombre  gile  were  ther  non, 
Tho  were  the  gates  shette,  and  cried  was  loude  ; 
Do  now  you  devoir,  yonge  knightes  proude. 

The  heraudes  left  hir  priking  up  and  doun.     2601 
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  springen  speres  twenty  foot  on  highte ;          2609 
Out  gon  the  swerdes  as  the  silver  brighte. 
The  helmes  they  to-hewen,  and  to-shrede ; 
Out  brest  the  blod,  with  sterne  stremes  rede. 
With  mighty  maces  the  bones  they  to-breste. 
He  thurgh  the  thickest  of  the  throng  gan  threste. 
Ther  stomblen  stedes  strong,  and  doun  goth  all. 
He  rolleth  under  foot  as  doth  a  ball. 
He  foineth  on  his  foo  with  a  tronchoun, 
And  he  him  hurtleth  with  his  hors  adoun.  26 is 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


He  thurgh  the  body  is  hurt,  and  sith  ytake         sets 

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.  2627 

Ther  n'as  no  tigre  in  the  vale  of  Galaphey, 
Whan  that  hire  whelpe  is  stole,  whan  it  is  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.  26S5 

The  jalous  strokes  on  hir  helmes  bite ; 
Out  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  bite. 
And  by  the  force  of  twenty  is  he  take 
Unyolden,  and  ydrawen  to  the  stake.  2644 


266  THE  KNIGHTES   TALE. 


And  in  the  rescous  of  this  Palamon  2645 

The  stronge  king  Licurge  is  borne  adoun : 

And  king  Emetrius  for  all  his  strengthe 

Is  borne  out  of  his  sadel  a  swerdes  lengthe, 

So  hitte  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.  2653 

Who  sorweth  now  but  woful  Palamon  ? 
That  moste  no  more  gon  again  to  fight. 
And  whan  that  Theseus  had  seen  that  sight, 
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.       2661 

Anon  ther  is  a  noise  of  peple  begonne 
For  joy  of  this,  so  loud  and  high  withall, 
It  seemed  that  the  listes  shulden  fall. 

What  can  now  fayre  Venus  don  above  ? 
What  saith  she  now  ?  what  doth  this  quene  of  love  ? 
But  wepeth  so,  for  wanting  of  hire  will, 
Til  that  hire  teres  in  the  listes  fill : 
She  sayde :  I  am  ashamed  doutelees. 

Saturnus  sayde :  Daughter,  hold  thy  pees.     2670 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE.  267 


Mars  hath  his  will,  his  knight  hath  all  his  bone,  2671 
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  miracle  ther  befell  anon. 

This  fierce  Arcite  hath  of  his  helme  ydon, 
And  on  a  courser  for  to  shew  his  face  2679 

He  priketh  endelong  the  large  place, 
Loking  upward  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  ground  a  fury  infernal  sterte, 
From  Pluto  sent,  at  requeste  of  Saturne,  2687 

For  which  his  hors  for  fere  gan  to  turne, 
And  lepte  aside,  and  foundred  as  he  lepe : 
And  er  that  Arcite  may  take  any  kepe, 
He  pight  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  out  of  the  place  2696 


268  THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


With  herte  sore,  to  Theseus  paleis.  2697 

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  compagnie, 
Is  comen  home  to  Athenes  his  citee, 
With  alle  blisse  and  gret  solempnite. 
Al  be  it  that  this  aventure  was  falle,  2705 

He  n'olde  not  discomforten  hem  alle. 
Men  sayden  eke,  that  Arcite  shal  not  die, 
He  shal  ben  heled  of  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  onr 
That  with  a  spere  was  thirled  his  brest  bone. 
To  other  woundes,  and  to  broken  armes,  2713 

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;  2722 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE.  269 


For  sothly  ther  n'as  no  discomfiture,  2723 

For  falling  n'is  not  but  an  avcnture. 

Ne  to  be  lad  by  force  unto  a  stake 

Unyolden,  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 :  2731 

Ther  may  no  man  clepen  it  cowardie. 

For  which  anon  duk  Theseus  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  2739 

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  sore 
Encreseth  at  his  herte  more  and  more. 
The  clotered  blood,  for  any  leche-craft 
Corrumpeth,  and  is  in  his  bouke  ylaft,  2748 


270  THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


That  neyther  veine-blood,  ne  ventousing,  2749 

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,  2757 

Vomit  upward,  ne  dounward  laxatif ; 

All  is  to-brosten  thilke  region  ; 

Nature  hath  now  no  domination. 

And  certainly  ther  nature  wol  not  werche, 

Farewel  physike  ;  go  bere  the  man  to  cherche. 

This  is  alKand  som,  that  Arcite  moste  die. 

For  which  he  sendeth  after  Emelie, 

And  Palamon,  that  was  his  cosin  dere.  2765 

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 
To  you  aboven  every  creature, 
Sin  that  my  lif  ne  may  no  lenger  dure. 

Alas  the  wo  !  alas  the  peines  strong, 
That  I  for  you  have  suffered,  and  so  longe !       2774 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE.  2fl 


Alas  the  deth  !  alas  min  Emelie !  2775 

Alas  departing  of  our  compagnie ! 

Alas  min  hertes  queue  !  alas  my  wif ! 

Min  hertes  ladie,  ender  of  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,  2788 

For  love  of  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  jalousie. 
And  Jupiter  so  wis  my  soule  gie, 
To  speken  of  a  servant  proprely, 
With  alle  circumstances  trewely, 
That  is  to  sayn,  trouth,  honour,  and  knighthede, 
Wisdom,  humblesse,  estat,  and  high  kinrede,     2792 
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  faille  began.  28 10 


272  THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


For  from  his  feet  up  to  his  brest  was  come         ssoi 

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;  2809 

His  last  word  was ;  Mercy,  Emelie  ! 

His  spirit  changed  hous,  and  wente  ther, 

And  as  I  came  never  I  cannot  tellen  wher. 

Therfore  I  stent,  I  am  no  divinistre ; 

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.  2817 

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  wimmen  have  swiche  sorwe, 
Whan  that  hir  housbonds  ben  fro  hem  ago* 
That  for  the  more  part  they  sorwen  so, 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE.  273 


Or  elles  fallen  in  swiche  maladie,  2327 

That  atte  laste  certainly  they  die. 

Infinite  ben  the  sorwes  and  the  teres 
Of  olde  folk,  and  folk  of  tendre  yeres, 
In  all  the  toun  for  deth  of  this  Theban : 
For  him  ther  wepeth  bothe  child  and  man. 
So  gret  a  weping  was  ther  non  certain, 
Whan  Hector  was  ybrought,  all  fresh  yslain 
To  Troy,  alas  !  the  pitee  that  was  there,  2835 

Cratching  of  chekes,  rending  eke  of  here. 
Why  woldest  thou  be  ded  ?  thise  women  crie, 
And  haddest  gold  ynough,  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  gladnesse ;  2843 

And  shewed  him  ensample  and  likenesse^ 

Right  as  ther  died  never  man  (quod  he) 
That  he  ne  lived  in  erth  in  som  degree, 
Right  so  ther  lived  never  man  (he  seyd) 
In  all  this  world,  that  somtime  he  ne  deyd. 
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.  assi 

VOL  i.  T 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


And  over  all  this  yet  said  he  mochel  more       2852 
To  this  effect,  ful  wisely  to  enhort 
The  peple,  that  they  shuld  hem  recomfort. 

Duk  Theseus  with  all  his  besy  cure 
He  casteth  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  2860 

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  commande  to  hack  and  hewe 
The  okes  old,  and  lay  hem  on  a  rew  2868 

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,  2376 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE.  275 


Eke  on  his  bed  a  croune  of  laurer  grene,  2377 

And  in  his  hond  a  swerd  ful  bright  and  kene. 
He  laid  him  bare  the  visage  on  the  bere, 
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  ashy  heres,  2885 

In  clothes  blake,  ydropped  all  with  teres, 
And  (passing  over  of  weping  Emelie) 
The  reufullest  of  all  the  compagnie. 

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.          2893 
And  eke  upon  these  stedes  gret  and  white 
Ther  saten  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. 

The  noblest  of  the  Grekes  that  ther  were         2901 


1Z76  THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


Upon  hir  shuldres  carrieden  the  here,  2902 

With  slacke  pas,  and  eyen  red  and  wete, 

Thurghout  the  citee,  by  the  maister  strete, 

That  sprad  was  all  with  black,  and  wonder  hie 

Right  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;        2910 

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  office  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 :  291  s 
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, 
Maple,  thorn,  beche,  hasel,  ew,  whipultre, 
How  they  were  feld,  shal  not  be  told  for  me ;     2926 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE.  277 


Ne  how  the  goddes  rannen  up  and  doun  2927 

Disherited  of  hir  habitatioun, 

In  which  they  woneden  in  rest  and  pees, 

Nimphes,  Faunes,  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,         2935 

And  than  with  drie  stickes  cloven  a-thre, 

And  than  with  grene  wood  and  spicerie, 

And  than  with  cloth  of  gold  and  with  perrie, 

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,  29-13 

Put  in  the  fire  of  funeral  service ; 

Ne  how  she  swouned  whan  she  made  the  fire, 

Ne  what  she  spake,  ne  what  was  hire  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,    2.9.->i 


278  THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


Into  the  fire,  that  brent  as  it  were  wood ;  2952 

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  2960 

All  thilke  night,  ne  how  the  Grekes  play. 

The  wake-plaies  ne  kepe  I  not  to  say : 
Who  wrestled  best  naked,  with  oile  enoint, 
Ne  who  that  bare  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.  296a 

By  processe  and  by  lengthe  of  certain  yeres 
All  stenten  is  the  mourning  and  the  teres 
Of  Grekes,  by  on  general  assent. 
Than  semeth  me  ther  was  a  parlement 
At  Athenes,  upon  certain  points  and  cas  : 
Amonges  the  which  points  yspoken  was 
To  have  with  certain  contrees  alliance, 
And  have  of  Thebanes  fully  obeisance.  2976 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE.  279 


For  which  this  noble  Theseus  anon  2977 

Let  senden  after  gentil  Palamon, 

Unwist  of  him,  what  was  the  cause  and  why  : 

But  in  his  blacke  clothes  sorwefully 

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  2.0  sr, 

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  of  love  he  bond          2993 
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  duration 
To  all  that  are  engendred  in  this  place, 
Over  the  which  day  they  ne  mow  not  pace, 
Al  mow  they  yet  the  dayes  wel  abrege.  sooi 


280 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


Ther  nedeth  non  autoritee  allege,  3002 

For  it  is  preved  by  experience, 

But  that  me  lust  declaren  my  sentence. 

Than  may  men  by  this  ordre  wel  discerne, 

That  thilke  mover  stable  is  and  eterne. 

Wel  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  cantel  of  a  thing,  3010 

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.     so  is 

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.  3026 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE.  281 


The  grete  tounes  see  we  wane  and  wende.          3027 

Than  may  ye  see  that  all  thing  hath  an  ende. 

Of  man  and  woman  see  we  wel  also, 

That  nedes  in  on  of  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  wey :       3035 

Than  may  I  sayn  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,  3043 

To  maken  vertue  of  necessite, 

Andtake  it  wel,  that  we  may  not  eschewe, 

And  namely  that  to  us  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.  3051 


282  THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


Than  hath  he  don  his  frend,  ne  him,  no  shame ;  3052 

And  glader  ought  his  frend  ben  of  his  deth, 

Whan  with  honour  is  yolden  up  his  breth, 

Than  whan  his  name  appalled  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  wilfulnesse. 

Why  grutchen  we?  why  have  we  hevinesse,        3oeo 

That  good  Arcite,  of  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.  soes 

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.  3076 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE.  283 


Sister,  (quod  he)  this  is  my  full  assent,  3077 

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  oure  accord. 

Let  see  now  of  your  womanly  pitee.  soss 

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. 
For  gentil  mercy  oweth  to  passen  right. 

Than  sayd  he  thus  to  Palamon  the  knight ; 
I  trow  ther  nedeth  litel  sermoning  3093 

To  maken  you  assenten  to  this  thing. 
Cometh  ner,  an^  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  y wedded  Emelie. 
And  God  that  all  this  wide  world  hath  wrought,  3101 


284  THE  KNIGHTES  TALE. 


Send  him  his  love,  that  hath  it  dere  ybought. 

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.  sno 


END  OF  VOL.   I, 


T.  WHITE  &  Co. 
Printen,  14,  Bear  Alley,  London. 


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•/MWA 


mm 


PR 

1866 

T87 

1822 

v.l 


Chaucer,  Geoffrey 
Canterbury  tales 


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