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UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  AT  LOS  ANGELES 

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This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below 


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Form  L-9-20m-8,'37 


EARLY    ENGLISH    POETRY: 
BALLADS, 

AND   POPULAR  LITERATURE 
OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES. 

EDITED  FROM  ORIGINAL  MANUSCRIPTS 
AND  SCARCE  PUBLICATIONS. 

45389 

VOL.  XXIV. 


LONDON 

PRINTED    FOR    THE    PERCY    SOCIETY, 
I     RICHARDS    ST    MARTINS  LAN1 

M.DCCC.XLVIl. 


v.  1 


CONTENTS   OF    VOL.  XXIV. 


CHAUCER S   CANTERBURY    TALES. 
VOLUME    THE    FIRST. 


L'DIILl)    J. I     IlloMAfc    WU1GUT,    L5 


THE   CANTERBURY    TALES 

OF    GEOFFREY  CHAUCER 
A     NEW     TEXT 

WITH   ILLUSTRATIVE 
NOTES 

EDITED     BY 

THOMAS    WRIGHT,   ESQ.   M.A.   F.S.A.  etc. 

Corresponding  Member  of  the  Institute  of  France  (Academie 
des  Inscriptions  et  Belles  Lettres) 


VOLUME     THE    FIRST 


LONDON 

PRINTED    FOR   THE   PERCY   SOCIETY 

BY   T.   RICHARDS,   ST.  MARTIN'S   LANE 
MDCCCXLVll 


COUNCIL 


Cfre  $mp  ^onetp. 


President, 
THE  RIGHT  HON.  LORD  BRAYBROOKE,  F.S.A. 

THOMAS  AMYOT,  Esq    F.R.S.,  Treas.  S.A. 

WILLIAM  HENRY  BLACK,  Esq. 

J.  PAYNE  COLLIER,  Esq.  F.S.A. 

BOLTON  CORNEY,  Esq. 

T.  CROFTON  CROKER,  Esq.  F.S.A.,  M.R  LA. 

J.  H.  DIXON,  Esq. 

FREDERICK  WILLIAM  FA1RHOLT,  Esq.  F.S.A. 

JAMES  ORCHARD  HALL1WELL,  Esq.   F.R.S.,  F.S.A. 

WILLIAM  JERDAN,  Esq.  M.R.S.L. 

CAPTAIN  JOHNS,  R.M. 

J.  S.  MOORE,  Esq. 

T.  J.  PETTIGREW,    Esq.  F.R.S.,  F.S.A. 

JAMES  PRIOR,  Esq.   F.S.A. 

WILLIAM  SANDYS,  Esq.  F.S.A. 

THOMAS  WRIGHT,  Esq.  M.A  ,  F.S.A.,  Secretary  <$•  Trt  asurer. 


INTRODUCTION. 


For  about  two  centuries  after  the  Norman  con- 
quest, Anglo-Norman  was  almost  exclusively  the 
language  of  literature  in  this  country.  The  few 
exceptions  belong  to  the  last  expiring  remains 
of  an  older  and  totally  different  Anglo-Saxon 
style,  or  to  the  first  attempts  of  a  new  English 
one,  formed  upon  a  Norman  model.  Of  the  two 
grand  monuments  of  the  poetry  of  this  period, 
Layamon  belongs  to  the  former  of  these  classes, 
and  the  singular  poem  entitled  the  Ormulum  to  the 
latter.  After  the  middle  of  the  thirteenth  century, 
the  attempts  at  poetical  composition  in  English 
became  more  frequent  and  more  successful,  and 
previous  to  the  age  of  Chaucer  we  have  several 
poems  of  a  very  remarkable  character,  and  some 
good  imitations  of  the  harmony  and  spirit  of  the 
French  versification  of  the  time. 

During  this  latter  period,  there  had  been  a  great 
movement    in    intelligence   and   art    throughout 

b 


VI 


Europe,  which  was  shewing  itself  sometimes  in  one 
place  and  sometimes  in  another,  and  Avhich  was 
giving  great  promises  of  a  splendid  future.  By 
the  end  of  the  thirteenth  century  it  broke  out  in 
Italy  in  Dante,  and  a  little  later  in  Petrarch.  In 
France  it  shewed  itself  in  a  multitude  of  poetical 
compositions,  remarkable  for  their  spirit  and  har- 
mony of  versification.  In  England  it  became 
magnificently  embodied  in  Chaucer,  almost  to  rise 
and  die  with  him  ;  for  two  centuries  passed  away 
before  another  poet  was  produced  who  could  lay 
any  claim  to  rivalry  with  his  great  predecessor. 

According  to  the  best  information  that  can  be 
collected,  Geoffrey  Chaucer  was  born  somewhere 
near  the  year  1328,*  his  family  being  apparently 
citizens  of  London.     The  accounts  of  his  earlier 


*  The  following  brief  notice  of  the  personal  history  of  the 
poet  is  little  more  than  an  abridgment  of  the  Life  of  Chaucer 
by  Sir  Harris  Nicolas,  who  has  gathered  together  a  mass  of 
curious  facts  from  the  public  records,  many  of  them  not 
known  before.  To  that  biographical  sketch,  which  is  pre- 
fixed to  Mr.  Pickering's  last  edition  of  Tyrwhitt's  text,  I 
refer  those  who  are  desirous  of  learning  everything  that  is 
really  known  of  Chaucer's  life,  which  had  been  disfigured 
by  previous  biographers  with  a  mass  of  details  founded  only 
on  mistakes,  or  drawn  from  the  imaginations  of  the  writers. 
I  have  no  wish  to  rewrite  what  Sir  Harris  Nicolas  has  already 
done  with  so  much  judgment,  but  it  will  probably  be  ex- 
pected that  I  should  give  here  the  outlines  of  the  life  of  the 
author  I  am  editing. 


years  and  of  his  education  are  vague  and  unsatis- 
factory, but  he  was  certainly  a  man  of  extensive 
learning,  and  he  had  the  education  of  a  gentleman  : 
he  is  generally  believed  to  have  been  bred  to  the 
law.  We  learn  from  Chaucer's  own  testimony, 
given  at  a  later  period,  in  the  case  of  the  Grosvenor 
peerage,  that  in  the  autumn  of  1359  he  was  in  the 
army  with  which  Edward  III  invaded  France, 
which  was  his  first  military  service,  and  that  he  was 
made  prisoner  by  the  French  during  the  expedition 
which  terminated  with  the  peace  of  Chartres,  in 
May  1360. 

We  know  nothing  further  of  Chaucer's  history 
until  1367,  when  a  pension  of  twenty  marks  yearly 
for  life  was  granted  by  the  king  to  the  poet,  as  one 
of  the  valets  of  the  king's  chamber,  in  considera- 
tion of  his  services.  About  the  same  time,  he 
married  Philippa,  one  of  the  ladies  in  attendance 
on  the  queen,  who  is  said  to  have  been  the  eldest 
daughter  of  Sir  Payne  Roet,  king-of-arms  of 
Guienne,  and  sister  of  Katherine,  widow  of  Sir 
Hugh  Swynford,  and  subsequently  wife  of  John 
of  Gaunt,  duke  of  Lancaster.  In  1370,  as  we  find 
from  the  records,  Chaucer  was  employed  in  the 
king's  service  abroad.  Two  years  after  this,  on 
the  12th  November  1372,  the  poet  was  sent  on  a 
mission  to  Genoa,  to  treat  on  the  choice  of  a  port 
in  England  where  the  Genoese  might  form  a  com- 

b  2 


mercial  establishment;  he  appears  to  have  remained 
in  Italy  nearly  a  year,  as  we  do  not  trace  him  in 
England  until  the  latter  part  of  November  1373, 
and  we  then  find  by  the  allowance  of  his  expenses 
that  he  had  been  on  the  king's  service  to  Florence 
as  well  as  to  Genoa.  We  are,  unfortunately,  in  per- 
fect ignorance  of  Chaucer's  movements  in  Italy  ; 
and  the  statement  of  the  old  biographers  that  he 
visited  Petrarch  at  Padua,  is  founded  on  mere 
suppositions  totally  unsupported  by  any  known 
evidence.  It  can  hardly  be  believed,  however, 
that  Chaucer  did  not  profit  by  the  opportunity 
thus  afforded  him  of  improving  his  acquaintance 
with  the  poetry,  if  not  with  the  poets,  of  the 
country  he  thus  visited,  whose  influence  was  now 
being  felt  on  the  literature  of  most  countries  of 
Western  Europe.  He  was  evidently  well  ac- 
quainted with  the  writings  of  Dante,  and  probably 
with  those  of  Petrarch,  if  not  with  those  of  Boc- 
caccio. He  distinctly  quotes  the  former  poet  more 
than  once,  thus  : — 

"  Wei  can  the  wyse  poet  of  Florence, 
That  hatte  Daunt,  speke  of  this  sentence." 

C.  T.  6707. 

The  "  sentence,"  as  Chaucer  gives  it,  is  almost 
a  literal  translation  from  the  Purgatorio.  It  may 
be  observed,  also,  that  the  inference  from  this  and 
other  circumstances  is  strongly  in  favour  of  the 


belief  that  Chaucer  was  well  acquainted  with  the 
Italian  language,  which  Sir  Harris  Nicolas  doubts, 
I  think  without  sufficient  reason. 

That  Chaucer  acquitted  himself  well  as  an  am- 
bassador, and  that  the  king  was  satisfied  with  his 
services,  we  can  have  no  doubt ;  for  on  the  23rd 
of  April  following,  the  monarch  made  him  a  grant 
for  life  of  a  pitcher  of  wine  daily,  an  appropriate 
gift  for  a  poet,  but  which  nevertheless  seems  to 
have  been  soon  commuted  for  the  payment  of  its 
value  in  money.  About  six  weeks  after  this,  on 
the  8th  of  June  1374,  Chaucer  was  aj)pointed 
comptroller  of  the  customs  and  subsidy  of  wools, 
skins,  and  tanned  hides  in  the  port  of  London  ; 
and  it  was  stipulated  that  he  should  write  the  rolls 
of  his  office  with  his  own  hand,  and  perform  his 
duties  personally  and  not  by  deputy.  This  might 
be  supposed  to  shew  that  Chaucer's  poetical  talents 
were  not  very  generously  appreciated  ;  but  it  ap- 
pears in  reality  that  it  was  a  mere  formula  of  the 
grant  of  the  office.  From  this  time  to  the  end  of  the 
reign  of  Edward  III,  the  poet  continued  to  enjoy 
the  royal  favour;  and  he  not  only  received  several 
marks  of  his  sovereign's  generosity,  but  he  was 
employed  frequently  in  public  service  of  impor- 
tance. During  the  last  year  of  Edward's  reign' 
a.  d.  1377,  he  was  sent  successively  to  Flanders 
and  to  France,  being  in  the  first  mission  associated 


with  Sir  Thomas  Percy  (afterwards  earl  of  Wor- 
cester), and  in  the  second,  attached  to  an  embassy 
to  treat  of  peace  with  Charles  V. 

It  is  probable  that  Chaucer  was  re-appointed 
one  of  the  king's  esquires  on  the  accession  of 
Richard  II,  and  he  certainly  did  not  decline  in 
court  favour.  In  the  middle  of  January  1378, 
he  was  again  sent  to  France,  attached  to  an 
embassy,  the  object  of  which  was  to  negotiate 
king  Richard's  marriage  with  a  daughter  of  the 
French  monarch.  His  stay  in  France  was  not  long, 
for  in  the  May  of  the  same  year  he  was  employed 
on  a  new  mission,  being  sent  with  Sir  Edward 
Berkeley  to  Lombardy,  to  treat  with  Bernardo 
Visconti,  lord  of  Milan,  and  the  celebrated  Sir 
John  Hawkwood,  apparently  to  persuade  them  to 
assist  in  some  warlike  expedition  contemplated  by 
the  English  government;  and  from  this  mission 
he  appears  not  to  have  returned  until  the  end  of 
the  year.  It  was  on  this  occasion  that  Chaucer 
nominated  as  one  of  his  representatives,  in  case  of 
any  legal  proceedings  during  his  absence  (to  which 
people  in  those  days  were  liable),  John  Gower, 
a  circumstance  that  establishes  the  fact  of  the 
intimate  friendship  between  the  two  poets.  We 
know  that  Chaucer  dedicated  his  Troilus  and  Cre- 
seide,  written  in  the  sixteenth  year  of  the  reign 
of  Richard  II  (1392-3),  to  Gower;  and  the  latter 


poet,  in  the  Confessio  Amantis,  makes  Venus  say 
of  Chaucer : — 

"  And  grete  well  Chaucer,  when  ye  mete. 
As  my  disciple  and  my  poete  ; 
For  in  the  floures  of  his  youthe, 
In  sondry  wyse,  as  he  wel  couthe, 
Of  dytees  and  of  songes  glade, 
The  whiche  he  for  my  sake  made, 
The  lande  fulfylled  is  over  alle, 
Whereof  to  him  in  specyalle, 
Above  all  other,  I  am  most  holde  : 
Forthy  nowe  in  his  dayes  olde 
Thou  shalle  him  telle  this  message, 
That  he  uppon  his  latter  age, 
To  sette  an  ende  of  al  his  werke, 
As  he  whiche  is  myn  owne  clerke, 
Do  make  his  Testament  of  Love, 
As  thou  hast  done  thy  shrift  above, 
So  that  my  courte  yt  may  recorde. 

It  has  been  supposed,  on  very  slight  grounds,  that 
Chaucer's  friendship  for  Gower  met  with  some 
interruption  towards  the  end  of  his  life* 

Soon  after  his  return  from  Italy,  Chaucer  ap- 
pears to  have  been  again  employed  on  foreign 
service,  for  the  records  shew  that  he  was  absent 
from  May  to  December  1379.  In  1382,  he  re- 
ceived the  appointment  of  comptroller  of  the  petty 
customs  of  the  port  of  London,  in  addition  to  his 

*  See  page  204  of  the  present  volume,  and  Sir  II.  Nico- 
las's  Life  of  Chaucer,  p.  39. 


xn 

previous  office  of  comptroller  of  the  customs  and 
subsidies  ;  and  in  February  1385,  he  obtained  the 
still  greater  favour  of  being  allowed  to  nominate 
a  permanent  deputy,  by  which  the  poet  must  have 
been  partially  released  from  duties  which  can  never 
have  been  agreeable  to  his  tastes. 

Several  circumstances  shew  that  Chaucer  had 
some  intimate  connexion  with  the  county  of  Kent, 
where  he  probably  held  property ;  and  he  was 
elected  a  knight  of  the  shire  for  that  county  in 
the  parliament  which  met  at  Westminster  on  the 
1st  of  October  1386,  and  which  closed  its  session 
on  the  1st  of  November  following;  shortly  after 
which  (before  the  4th  of  December  1386),  Chaucer 
was  dismissed  from  his  employments,  but  for  what 
reason  we  have  not  the  slightest  intimation,  though 
it  was  doubtless  connected  with  some  of  the  petty 
intrigues  of  this  intriguing  reign.  Probably,  as 
Sir  Harris  Nicolas  supposes,  he  had  become  ob- 
noxious to  the  duke  of  Gloucester  and  the  other 
ministers  who  had  succeeded  his  patron,  the  duke 
of  Lancaster,  in  the  government,  and  it  is  well 
known  that  the  proceedings  of  the  parliament  just 
alluded  to  were  directed  against  the  duke  of  Lan- 
caster's party, 

We  know  nothing  further  of  Chaucer's  history 
until  the  year  1388,  except  that  he  continued  re- 
gularly to  receive    his    two    pensions  of  twenty 


marks  each ;  but  on  the  1  st  of  May  in  the  latter 
year,  the  grants  of  these  pensions  were,  at  his  re- 
quest, cancelled,  and  the  annuities  assigned  to 
John  Scalby,  which  has  been  considered  as  a  proof 
that  the  poet  was  at  that  time  in  distress,  and 
obliged  to  sell  his  pensions.  Exactly  a  year  after 
this,  in  May  1389,  on  the  young  king's  assumption 
of  the  reins  of  government,  the  duke  of  Lancas- 
ter's party  were  restored  to  power,  and  Chaucer 
again  appeared  at  court.  On  the  12  th  of  July,  the 
poet  was  appointed  to  the  valuable  office  of  clerk 
of  the  king's  works  at  the  palace  of  Westminster, 
the  Tower  of  London,  the  castle  of  Berkhemstead, 
and  the  royal  manors  of  Kennington,  Eltham, 
Clarendon,  Sheen,  By  fleet,  Childern  Langley,  and 
Feckenham,  at  the  royal  lodge  of  Hathenbergh  in 
the  New  Forest,  at  the  lodges  in  the  parks  of  Cla- 
rendon, Childern  Langley,  and  Feckenham,  and  at 
the  mews  for  the  king's  falcons  at  Charing  Cross. 
He  was  expressly  permitted  to  perform  his  duties 
by  deputy,  and  his  salary  was  fixed  at  two  shillings 
a  day.  Chaucer  held  this  office,  however,  only  two 
years,  having  been  dismissed  from  it  before  the 
16th  of  September  1391,  but  the  cause  of  his  re- 
moval is  unknown. 

During  the  latter  years  of  Richard's  reign, 
Chaucer  was  evidently  suffering  from  poverty,  for 
instead  of  receiving  as  formerly  his  pension  in 


XIV 

half-yearly  payments  when  due,  we  find  him  con- 
stantly taking  sums  in  advance ;  and,  as  these  were 
not  always  paid  into  his  own  hands,  we  are  led  to 
suppose  that  he  was  suffering  from  sickness,  as 
well  as  from  want.  He  was  now  aged,  as  well  as 
poor  and  needy;  but  the  accession  of  Henry  IV 
came  suddenly  to  cast  a  gleam  of  brightness  on  his 
declining  days.  Within  four  days  after  he  came 
to  the  throne,  Henry  granted  him,  on  the  3rd  of 
October  1399,  a  yearly  pension  of  forty  marks,  in 
addition  to  the  annuity  of  twenty  pounds  which  had 
been  given  him  bv  king  Richard.  On  Christmas 
eve,  1399,  the  poet  obtained  the  lease  of  a  house 
near  Westminster  Abbey,  where  it  is  probable 
that  he  closed  his  days.  His  name  appears  in  the 
issue  rolls,  as  continuing  to  receive  his  pension, 
until  the  1st  of  March  1400,  when  it  was  received 
for  him  by  Henry  Somere,  the  clerk  of  the  receipt 
of  the  exchequer,  who  is  supposed  to  have  been 
a  relation  of  the  "  frere  John  Somere,"  whose 
calendar  is  mentioned  in  Chaucer's  treatise  on  the 
Astrolabe.  Chaucer  is  stated,  and  with  probable 
correctness,  in  an  epitaph  placed  in  1550  near  his 
grave  in  Westminster  Abbey  by  Nicholas  Brigham 
(a  poet  of  that  time),  to  have  died  on  the  25th  of 
October  1400,  at  which  time,  according  to  the 
supposed  date  of  his  birth,  he  would  have  reached 
the  age  of  seventy- two. 


XV 

The  above  are  all  the  circumstances  of  import- 
ance connected  with  the  life  of  Chaucer  that  are 
known  to  be  true.  Although,  in  the  document 
in  which  they  are  found,  he  is  looked  upon  only 
as  an  actor  in  the  eventful  politics  of  the  day,  we 
have  other  evidence  that  his  poetical  talents  were 
highly  appreciated  by  his  contemporaries,  as  well 
as  in  the  age  which  followed  his  death.  By  the 
English  poets  of  his  time,  Gower  and  Occleve,  he  is 
spoken  of  in  the  warmest  terms  of  praise ;  and  that 
his  reputation  was  high  on  the  continent,  we  have 
a  remarkable  proof  in  a  ballad  addressed  to  him  by 
the  French  poet  Eustace  Deschamps,  which  has 
been  printed  in  Sir  Harris  Nicolas1  s  Life,  and  in 
my  Anecdota  Literaria.  This  latter  document 
shews  us,  also,  that  Chaucer  was  on  terms  of 
friendship  at  least  with  the  French  poets  of  his 
day.  Occleve  not  only  paid  a  tribute  of  affection 
to  his  "  maister"  in  his  poetry,  but  he  painted  his 
portrait  in  the  margin  of  the  manuscript,  and  this 
portrait,  evidently  a  good  one,  was  copied  at  differ- 
ent times  and  in  different  forms,  and  was  no  doubt 
the  original  of  all  the  portraits  of  Chaucer  we 
now  have.  The  best  copy  appears  to  be  that  in 
the  Harleian  MS.,  No.  4866. 

THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Chaucer's  capital  work  is  doubtless  the  Canter- 


bury  Tales.  The  idea  of  thus  joining  together  a 
number  of  stories  by  means  of  a  connecting  nar- 
rative, or  frame,  appears  to  have  originated  in  the 
East ;  but  long  before  the  time  of  Chaucer  it  had 
been  made  popular  in  Europe  by  the  Disciplina 
Clericalis  of  Peter  Alfonsi,  and  its  translations, 
and  by  the  still  more  widely  spread  romance  of  the 
Seven  Sages.  It  is  probable  that  the  latter,  of 
which  an  edition  has  been  published  by  the  Percy 
Society,  gave  Chaucer  the  hint  of  his  plot,  rather 
than  the  Decameron,  with  which  I  think  it  doubt- 
ful if  Chaucer  were  acquainted.  But  Chaucer's 
plan  was  far  superior  to  that  of  any  of  the  similar 
collections  which  had  preceded  it,  not  only  for  the 
opportunity  it  afforded  for  diversity  of  style  in  the 
stories,  but  for  the  variety  of  character  it  admitted 
in  the  personages  to  be  introduced.  The  general 
introduction  to  the  Canterbury  Tales  is  one  of  the 
most  perfect  compositions  in  the  English  language. 
The  Canterbury  Tales  appear  to  have  been  the 
compilation  of  Chaucer's  latter  years  ;  for  they 
contain  allusions  to  events  so  late  as  the  year  1386, 
and  if  (as  there  appears  little  room  for  doubt) 
there  are  allusions  in  the  Man  of  Laives  Tale  to 
the  Confessio  Amantis  of  Gower,  this  part  of  the 
work  must  have  been  written  at  a  still  later  period, 
as  that  poem  is  stated  by  its  author  to  have  been 
written  in   the   sixteenth   year    of   the   reign   of 


XV 11 

Richard  II,  i:  e.  1392-3.  I  have  used  the  word 
compilation,  because  it  appears  to  rne  not  only 
evident  that  Chaucer  composed  the  Canterbury 
Tales  not  continuously,  but  in  different  portions 
which  were  afterwards  to  be  joined  together;  but 
it  is  more  than  probable  that  he  worked  up  into 
it  tales  which  had  originally  been  written  and 
perhaps  published  as  separate  poems.  Chaucer 
tells  us,  in  the  Legend  of  Good  Women,  that  he  had 
thus  published  the  Knightes  Tale, — 

" al  the  love  of  Palamon  and  Arcite, 

Of  Thebes,  though  the  storie  is  knowen  lite ;" 

as  well  as  the  life  of  St.  Cecilia,  or  the  Second 
Nonnes  Tale, — 

"  And  made  the  life  also  of  Saint  Cecile." 

It  is  quite  clear  that  we  possess  the  Canterbury 
Tales  in  an  unfinished  form.  Tyrwhitt  makes  the 
following  general  observations  on  this  subject : — 

"  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  pilgrims  going 
to  Canterbury  assemble  at  an  inn  in  South wark, 
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 


XV111 


best  tales,  shall  be  treated  by  the  rest  with  a  sup- 
per upon  their  return  to  the  same  inn.  This  is 
shortly  the  fable.  The  characters  of  the  pilgrims 
are  as  various  as,  at  that  time,  could  be  found  in 
the  several  departments  of  middle  life ;  that  is,  in 
fact,  as  various  as  could,  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 
journey,  And  all  the  remnant  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  relators,  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  under- 
taking :  and  admiring,  as  we  must,  the  vigour  of 
that  genius,  which  in  an  advanced  age  could  begin 
so  vast  a  work,  we  shall  rather  lament  than  be  sur- 
prised that  it  has  been  left  imperfect.  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, 


XIX 

it  will  be  found  that  more  than  one  half  is  want- 
ing. The  prologue  we  have,  perhaps,  nearly 
complete,  and  the  greatest  part  of  the  journey  to 
Canterbury  ;  but  not  a  word  of  the  transactions 
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  to  take  notice  of 
certain  defects  and  inconsistencies,  which  can  only 
be  accounted  for  upon  the  supposition,  that  the 
work  was  never  finished  by  the  author." 

After  a  careful  consideration  of  this  question, 
I  am  inclined  to  believe  that  Chaucer  not  only  left 
his  grand  poem  in  an  unfinished  state,  but  that  he 
left  it  in  detached  portions  only  partially  arranged, 
and  that  it  was  reduced  to  its  present  form  after 
his  death.  This  would  explain  satisfactorily  the 
great  variations  of  the  manuscripts  in  the  order  of 
the  tales,  and  the  evident  want  of  the  connecting 
prologue  in  more  than  one  instance.  All  the  manu- 
scripts agree  in  the  order  of  the  tales  of  the  knight, 
miller,  reve,  and  cook,  and  in  placing  them  im- 
mediately after  the  general  prologue,  and  it  is 
therefore  probable  that  they  were  left  in  that  state 
by  Chaucer.  The  Cookes  Tale  was  evidently  left 
unfinished  by  the  author,  and  it  was  probably  the 


person  who  reduced  the  whole  to  its  present  form 
that  first  introduced  the  tale  of  Gamelyn  to  fill 
up  what  he  supposed  a  lacuna,  but  whence  he 
obtained  this  tale  it  is  difficult  to  conjecture. 
Tyrwhitt  is  so  entirely  wrong  in  saying  that 
this  tale  is  not  found  in  any  manuscript  of  the 
first  authority,  that  it  occurs  in  the  Harleian 
MS.,  from  which  the  present  text  is  taken,  and 
which  I  have  no  hesitation  in  stating  to  be  the 
best  and  oldest  manuscript  of  Chaucer  I  have  yet 
met  with.  The  style  of  Gamelyn  would  lead  us 
to  judge  that  it  is  not  Chaucer's,  but  we  can  only 
reconcile  this  judgment  with  its  being  found  so 
universally  in  the  manuscripts,  by  means  of  the 
supposition  of  the  posthumous  arrangement  of  the 
Canterbury  Tales,  and  its  insertion  by  the  arran- 
ger. I  have  printed  the  tale  of  Gamelyn  from  the 
same  Harleian  MS.  which  has  been  the  base  of 
my  text  of  the  remainder  of  the  poem ;  but  I  have 
distinguished  it  from  the  rest  by  printing  it  in 
smaller  type,  both  on  account  of  the  apparently 
well-founded  doubts  of  its  being  a  genuine  work 
of  Chaucer,  and  in  order  not  to  interfere  with  the 
numbering  of  the  lines  in  Tyrwhitt's  edition, 
which  I  have  thought  it  advisable  to  preserve. 

After  the  CooJccs  Tale,  the  order  of  the  tales 
differs  very  much  in  different  manuscripts,  until 
we  arrive  at  the  tale  of  the  Maniciple,  with  which, 


XXI 


and  the  Parson  s  Tale,  they  all  conclude.  In  the 
present  text,  I  have  strictly  followed  the  Harleian 
manuscript,  which  agrees  nearly  with  the  order 
adopted  by  Tyrwhitt.  The  Man  of  Lawes  Tale  is 
not  connected  by  its  prologue  with  the  tale  which 
precedes  it;  and  the  Wyf  of  Bathes  Tale  evidently 
wants  a  few  introductory  lines,  which  Chaucer 
would  have  added  had  he  lived  to  complete  the 
poem.  It  is  not  improbable  that  in  the  state  in 
which  he  left  it,  the  Wife  of  Bath's  prologue  was 
the  beginning  of  a  portion  of  manuscript  which 
contained  the  tales  of  the  Wife  of  Bath,  the  Friar, 
and  the  Sompnour;  and  perhaps  those  of  the  Clerk, 
the  Merchant,  and  the  Squier,  formed  another  por- 
tion. This  latter  portion  appears  to  have  been 
left  unfinished,  for  the  Squieres  Tale  breaks  off 
abruptly  in  the  middle,  which  is  the  more  to  be 
regretted,  as  it  is  one  of  Chaucer's  best  stories, 
and  it  is  a  story  not  found  elsewhere.  It  appears 
by  its  prologue,  that  the  Frankeleynes  Tale  was 
intended  to  follow  the  Squieres  Tale.  The  Second 
Nonnes  Tale,  or  the  life  of  St.  Cecilia,  has  no 
prologue,  and  appears  to  be  in  the  same  form  in 
which  it  was  originally  written  for  separate  pub- 
lication. The  prologue  to  the  Chanones  Yemannes 
Tale  shews  that  this  latter  was  intended  to 
follow  the  life  of  St.  Cecilia.  These  two  tales  arc 
placed,    in  Tyrwhittfs  edition,  after  the  tale  of 


XXII 

the  Nun's  Priest.  Of  the  tales  of  the  Doctour 
and  the  Pardoner  we  can  only  say  that  they  were 
clearly  intended  to  come  together,  though  they 
are  differently  placed  in  manuscripts  with  res- 
pect to  those  which  precede  and  follow.  The 
tales  of  the  Shipman,  the  Prioress,  Chaucer's  two 
tales  of  Sir  Thopas  and  Melibeus,  the  Monk's 
tale,  and  the  tale  of  the  Nun's  Priest,  are  all 
connected  together  by  their  prologues,  and  appear 
to  have  occupied  another  portion  of  Chaucer's 
manuscript,  which  also  was  apparently  defective 
at  the  end,  the  prologue  which  was  to  have  con- 
nected it  with  the  next  tale  being  unfinished.  The 
prologue  to  the  tale  of  the  Manciple  contains  no 
reference  to  a  preceding  tale,  but  from  the  way  in 
which  the  Cook  is  introduced  in  it,  it  would  seem 
to  have  been  composed  at  a  time  when  Chaucer 
did  not  intend  to  introduce  the  Cook's  tale  after 
that  of  the  Reve.  The  Parson's  tale  is  connected 
by  its  prologue  with  that  of  the  Manciple,  and 
follows  it  in  all  the  manuscripts.  The  old  printed 
editions  after  1542,  inserted  between  these  a  poem, 
which  was  evidently  misplaced,  under  the  title  of 
the  Plowman's  Tale,  but  on  what  authority  it  was 
placed  there  we  are  totally  ignorant.  The  "  re- 
tractation," at  the  end  of  the  Parsones  Tale,  was 
perhaps  introduced  by  the  person  who  arranged 
the  text  after  Chaucer's  death. 


XX1U 

With  the  tale,  or  rather  discourse,  of  the  Par- 
son, Chaucer  brings  his  pilgrims  to  Canterbury  ; 
but  his  original  plan  evidently  included  the  journey 
back  to  London.  Some  writer,  within  a  few  years 
after  Chaucer's  death,  undertook  to  continue  the 
work,  and  produced  a  ludicrous  account  of  the 
proceedings  of  the  pilgrims  at  Canterbury,  and  the 
story  of  Beryn,  which  was  to  be  the  first  of  the 
stories  told  on  their  return.  These  are  printed  by 
Urry  from  a  manuscript  of  which  I  have  not  been 
able  to  trace  the  subsequent  history,  and,  if  it 
should  not  previously  be  found,  I  shall  reprint 
them  from  Urry's  edition,  correcting  the  more 
apparent  errors,  for  Urry's  faithlessness  to  his 
manuscript  is  quite  extraordinary. 

The  immense  popularity  of  Chaucer's  Canter- 
bury Tales  is  proved  by  the  number  of  manuscript 
copies  still  remaining.  It  was  one  of  the  first 
books  printed  in  England,  and  went  through  a 
considerable  number  of  editions  before  the  seven- 
teenth century.  For  the  information  of  those  who 
are  interested  in  the  biographical  portion  of  a 
subject  like  this,  I  give  Tyrwhitt's  history  of  the 
printed  editions  of  the  Canterbury  Tales,  omitting 
some  of  the  notes. 

"  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 

c  2 


in  to  superintend  and  direct  its  operations.  It  is 
therefore  much  more  to  the  honour  of  our  meri- 
torious 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  could  pro- 
cure to  print  from,  and  it  happened  unluckily  to 
be  one  of  the  worst  in  all  respects  that  he  could 
possibly  have  met  with.  The  very  few  copies  of 
this  edition  which  are  now  remaining,*  have  no 
date,  but  Mr.  Ames  supposes  it  to  have  been 
printed  in  1475  or  6. 

"  It  is  still  more  to  the  honour  of  Caxton,  that 
when  he  was  informed  of  the  imperfections  of  his 
edition,  he  very  readily  undertook  a  second,  '  for  to 
satisfy  the  author,1  (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 


*  "  The  late  Mr.  West  was  so  obliging  as  to  lend  me  a 
complete  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  appear- 
ance, I  suppose,  of  a  MS.  Neither  of  these  books,  though 
seemingly  complete,  has  any  preface  or  advertisement." 


XXV 

in  his  own  words.*  This  edition  is  also  without 
date,  except  that  the  preface  informs  us,  that  it 
was  printed  six  years  after  the  first. 

*  "  Preface  to  Caxton's  second  edition  from  a  copy  in  the 
Library  of  St.  John's  College  Oxford.    Ames,  p.  55. — Whiche 
book  I  have  dylygently  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  hys 
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  emprynte 
a  certayn  nomber  of  them,  whyche  anon  were  solde  to  many 
and  dy  verse  gentylmen,  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  nothyng  added  ne  mynusshyd.    Thenne  he  sayd, 
he  knewe  a  book  whyche  hys  fader  had  much  lovyd,  that 
was  very  trewe,  and  accordyng  unto  his  owen  first  book  by 
hym  made  ;  and  sayd  more,  yf  I  wold  emprynte  it  agayn, 
he  wold  gete  me  the  same  book  for  a  copye      How  be  it  he 
wyst  well  that  hys  fader  wold  not  gladly  departc  fro  it.    To 
whom  I  said,  in  caas  that  he  coude  gete  me  suche  a  booke, 
trewe  and  correcte,  yet  I  wold  ones  endevoyrc  me  to  em- 
prynte it  agayn,  for  to  satisfy  the  auctour,  where  as  tofore 
by  ygnoraunce  I  erryd  in  hurtyng  and  dyftamyng  his  book 
in  dyverce  places,  in  setting  in  somme  thynges  that  he  never 
sayd  ne  made,  and  leving  out  many  thynges  that  he  made, 
whyche  ben  recpiysite  to  be  sette  in  it.     And  thus  we  fyll 
at  accord,  and  he  full  gentylly  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  bescehe,  (fcc. 

"Mr.  Lewis,  in  his  Life  of  Caxton,  p.  104,  has  published 


XXVI 

"  Ames  mentions  an  edition  of  Chaucer's  Can- 
terbury 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  I  ever  met  with  any  other  au- 
thority 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 
editions.  He  has  prefixed  to  both  the  introductory 
part  of  Caxton's  Prohemye  to  his  second  edition, 
without  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  Caxtorfs 
imprinting*  That  the  copy,  mentioned  in  both 
these  passages,  by  which  Pynson  purposed  to  im- 
print, was  really  Caxton's  second  edition,  is  evident 


a  minute  account  of  the  contents  of  this  edition  from  a  copy 
in  the  Library  of  Magdalen  College,  Cambridge,  but  with- 
out 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  to- 
gether would  not  make  a  complete  one. 

*  "  See  the  Prohemies  to  Pynson's  first  and  second  editions 
in  the  preface  to  Urry's  Chaucer.  There  is  a  complete  copy 
of  Pyuson's  first  edition  in  the  library  of  the  Royal  Society. 


XXVli 

from  the  slightest  comparison  of  the  three  books, 
Pynson'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  Caxtons  death. 
His  second  edition*  is  dated  in  152G,  and  was  the 
first  in  which  a  collection  of  some  other  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  as  printed  by  Berthelette,  with  the  as- 
sistance of  Mr.  William  Thynne,  (as  I  rather  sus- 
pect it  is,)  we  may  be  assured  that  it  was  copied 
from  that.  Mr.  Thynne's  dedication  to  Henry 
VIII  stands  at  the  head  of  it ;  and  the  great  num- 
ber of  Chaucer's  works,   never  before  published, 

*  "  I  venture  to  call  this  Pynson's  second  edition,  though 
Ames  (from  some  notes  of  Bagford)  speaks  of  editions  in 
1520  and  1522.  lie  docs  not  appear  to  have  seen  them 
himself.  Mr.  West  had  a  copy  of  the  edition  of  1526,  in 
which  the  name  of  the  printer  and  the  date  of  the  impres- 
sion are  regularly  set  down  at  the  end  of  the  Canterbury 
Tales.  After  that  follow  '  Troilus  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  ivorkes.  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  hands.     See  the  preface  to  Ed.  Urr. 


xxvm 


which  appear  in  it,  fully  entitles  it  to  the  com- 
mendations, which  have  always  been  given  to  Mr. 
Thynne's  edition  on  that  account.  Accordingly, 
it  was  several  times  reprinted  as  the  standard 
edition  of  Chaucer's  works,  without  any  material 
alteration,  except  the  insertion  of  the  Plowman's 
tale  in  1542. 

"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  tales,  which  Caxton, 
in  his  second  edition,  had  set  right.  It  gives  the 
FranJceleiii's  prologue  to  the  Merchant,  in  addition 
to  his  own  proper  prologue.  It  produces  for  the 
first  time  two  prologues,  the  one  to  the  Doctours, 
and  the  other  to  the  Shiftman's  tale,  which  are  both 
evidently  spurious  ;  and  it  brings  back  the  lines  of 
ribaldry  in  the  Merchant's  tale,  which  Caxton,  in 
his  second  edition,  had  rejected  upon  the  authority 
of  his  jrood  MS. 


XXIX 

"  However,  this  edition  of  1532,  with  all  its 
imperfections,  had  the  luck,  as  I  have  said,  to  be 
considered  as  the  standard  edition,  and  to  be  copied, 
not  only  by  the  booksellers,  in  their  several  edi- 
tions* 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  Thynnes  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. 
Thynne's.  In  the  very  material  points  above- 
mentioned,  in  which  those  editions  vary  from  Cax- 
ton's  second,  he  has  followed  them.  Nor  have  I 
observed  any  such  verbal  varieties,  as  would  in- 
duce one  to  believe  that  he  had  consulted  any  good 
MS.     They  who  have  read  his  preface,  will  pro- 

*  "  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  impression.  See  Ames,  p.  252.  A  Bible 
is  said  to  be  printed  in  1551,  by  Nicholas  Hill — '  at  the  cost 
and  charges  of  certaync  honest  menne  of  the  occupacyon, 
whose  names  be  upon  their  bokes.' " 


XXX 


bably  not  regret,  that  he  did  not  do  more  towards 
correcting  the  text  of  Chaucer. 

"  In  this  state  the  Canterbury  Tales  remained* 
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 
full  account  of  it  is  to  be  seen  in  the  modest  and 
sensible  preface  prefixed  to  it  by  Mr.  Timothy 
Thomas,  upon  whom  the  charge  of  publishing 
Chaucer  devolved,  or  rather  was  imposed,  after 
Mr.  Urry's  death.  The  strange  license,  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 


*  "  It  may  be  proper  just  to  take  notice,  that  Mr. 
Speght's  edition  was  reprinted  in  1687,  with  an  advertise- 
ment 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.  Whoever  the  editor  was,  I  must 
do  him  the  justice  to  say,  that  they  are  both  really  to  be 
found  in  MS.  The  first  is  to  be  found  in  MS.  B«.  and  the 
other  in  MS.  B.  6.  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  could  treat  him  from  MS. 
B.  a.  with  at  least  thirty  more  lines,  which  have  been  in- 
serted in  different  parts  of  the  Cook's  Tale,  by  the  same 
hand  that  wrote  this  Conclusion. 


XXXI 

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." 

PLAN    OF    THE    PRESENT    EDITION. 

During  the  latter  half  of  the  twelfth  century 
and  the  earlier  part  of  the  thirteenth,  the  language 
spoken  by  our  Saxon  forefathers  was  rapidly  break- 
ing up,  and  losing  its  original  grammatical  inflec- 
tions, and  much  of  its  characteristic  phraseology. 
Books  or  songs  written  in  English  during  this 
period  were  intended  for  the  edification  of  the 
lower  classes,  or  for  the  bourgeoisie,  which  still  re- 
tained its  Saxon  habits.  Great  changes  in  language 
are  generally  coeval  with  political  movements 
and  convulsions,  and  the  character  of  our  language 
was  completely  changed  by  the  baronial  wars  of 
the  thirteenth  century,  which  brought  into  pro- 
minence the  Anglo-Saxon  portion  of  the  popula- 
tion, and  made  its  language  fashionable  in  high 
society.  The  consequence  was,  that  it  went 
through  further  changes  in  form,  and  became 
largely  mixed  with  words  having  a  French  (or 
Anglo-Norman)  origin.  About  the  end  of  the 
reign  of  Edward  T,  the  English  language  took  a 
definite  shape,  which  continued  during  the  four- 
teenth century  with  very  little  alteration  in  its 
grammatical  forms,  and  the  only  alterations  in  other 


XXX11 

respects  arising  from  words  becoming  obsolete, 
and  from  the  facility  with  which  French  or  Anglo- 
Norman  words  were  adopted  or  received  at  the  will 
of  the  author,  and  according  to  the  class  of  society 
in  which  he  moved  and  for  which  he  wrote.  This 
arose  from  the  circumstance  that  English  and  the 
form  of  French  spoken  here  were  co-existent  in 
our  island  as  the  languages  of  common  life.  This 
form  of  the  English  language  was  that  of  the 
author  of  Piers  Ploughman,  and  of  Geoffrey  Chau- 
cer, the  former  representing  the  popular  feelings 
and  containing  fewest  French  words,  while  Chau- 
cer, as  the  poet  of  the  higher  society,  uses  French 
words  in  much  greater  abundance.  In  our  lan- 
guage of  the  present  day,  we  have  lost  as  much 
of  the  English  of  Piers  Ploughman,  as  we  have 
of  the  French  of  the  Canterbury  Tales. 

The  general  character,  and  the  grammatical 
constructions,  of  the  English  of  the  fourteenth 
century,  were  preserved  during  the  opening  years 
of  the  fifteenth,  but  they  soon  began  to  break  up 
more  rapidly  even  than  in  the  thirteenth  century, 
until,  at  the  time  of  the  Reformation,  our  language 
took  nearly  its  modern  form,  the  orthography  ex- 
cepted. 

The  language  in  which  any  man  wrote  could 
only  be  preserved  correctly  in  manuscripts  written 
in  his  own  time,  or  very  near  it ;  for  we  find  by 


experience  that  copyists  invariably  altered  what 
they  copied  to  the  form  of  the  language  at  the 
time  in  which  they  wrote,  and,  which  is  still  more 
embarrassing,  to  the  local  dialect  of  the  county  in 
which  they  lived.  It  is  evident,  therefore,  that 
the  plan  of  forming  the  text  of  any  work  of  the 
periods  of  which  we  are  speaking,  from  a  number 
of  different  manuscripts,  written  at  different  times 
and  different  places,  is  the  most  absurd  plan  which 
it  is  possible  to  conceive.  Yet  this  was  the  method 
professedly  followed  by  Tyrwhitt,  in  forming  a 
text  of  the  Canterbury  Tales  of  Chaucer.  He  even 
did  worse:  for  he  seems  to  have  taken  for  his 
foundation  merely  one  of  the  old  editions,  printed 
at  a  time  when  all  the  grammatical  forms  were 
lost,  changing  words  or  lines  for  others  which 
pleased  him  better,  from  any  manuscript  which 
happened  to  contain  them.  It  is  true  that  he  has 
given  a  list  of  manuscripts,  in  which  he  points  out 
those  which  he  considers  the  best,  and  which  he 
followed  in  preference  to  others  ;  but  Tyrwhitt  was 
so  entirely  unacquainted  with  the  pakeographical 
and  philological  knowledge  necessary  for  the  ap- 
preciation of  them,  that  he  places  among  his  manu- 
scripts of  "  highest  authority,"  copies  on  paper 
of  the  latter  part  of  the  fifteenth  century,  while 
excellent  manuscripts  of  an  earlier  date  are  looked 
upon    with   indifference.      The   more  caution    is 


XXXIV 


necessary  in  this  respect  with  the  text  of  Chaucer, 
because  the  greater  number  of  the  manuscripts 
are  of  the  latter  part  or  middle  of  the  fifteenth 
century,  when  the  language  was  very  much  changed 
from  that  of  Chaucer's  time. 

Tyrwhitt's  entire  ignorance  of  the  grammar  of 
the  lan£ua":e  of  Chaucer  is  exhibited  in  almost 
every  line,  few  of  which  could  possibly  have  been 
written  by  the  poet  as  he  has  printed  them.  It 
need  only  be  stated,  as  an  instance  of  this,  that  in 
the  preterites  of  what  the  modern  Teutonic  philo- 
logists term  the  strong  verbs  (which  our  common 
grammarians  distinguish  by  the  unfortunate  title 
of  irregular  verbs),  Tyrwhitt  has  invariably  placed 
a  verb  in  the  plural  with  a  noun  in  the  singular. 
This  is  explained  by  the  circumstance  that,  in  our 
modern  form  of  the  language,  the  ancient  plural  of 
the  preterite  has  been  adopted  for  singular  as  well 
as  plural.  Examples  of  this  (in  the  verbs  to  bear, 
of  which  the  correct  forms  were,  sing,  bar,  pi.  bare; 
to  come,  s.  cam,  pi.  come ;  to  swear,  s.  swor,  pi.  swore ; 
to  give,  s.  gaf,  pi.  gave  ;  to  speak,  s.  spak,  pi.  spake; 
to  rise,  s.  ros,  roos,  pi.  rose ;  to  toJce,  s.  took,  pi.  toke ; 
&c.)  occur  almost  in  every  sentence.  In  the  verb 
to  sit,  of  which  the  pret.  s.  and  pi.  was  sette,  Tyr- 
whitt has  substituted  set,  a  form  which  did  not 
exist;  and  in  the  same  manner,  in  the  verb  to  creep, 
he  has  given  pret.  s.  crept,  when  the  forms  were 


XXXV 

s.  creep,  crope,  pi.  crope.  In  the  same  manner, 
Tyrwhitt  has  in  most  instances  substituted  the 
plural  of  adjectives  for  the  singular,  and  the  in- 
flected cases  of  nouns  for  the  nominative,  besides 
an  infinity  of  errors  in  the  orthographical  forms 
of  the  language. 

Under  these  circumstances  it  is  clear  that,  to 
form  a  satisfactory  text  of  Chaucer,  we  must  give 
up  the  printed  editions,  and  fall  back  upon  the 
manuscripts ;  and  that,  instead  of  bundling  them 
all  together,  we  must  pick  out  one  best  manuscript 
which  at  the  same  time  is  one  of  those  nearest  to 
Chaucer's  time.  The  latter  circumstance  is  abso- 
lutely necessary,  if  we  would  reproduce  the  lan- 
guage and  versification  of  the  author.  At  the 
same  time,  it  cannot  but  be  acknowledged,  that 
the  earliest  manuscript  might  possibly  be  very 
incorrect  and  incomplete,  from  the  ignorance  or 
negligence  of  the  scribe  who  copied  it.  This, 
however,  is  fortunately  not  the  case  with  regard 
to  Chaucer's  Canterbury  Tales. 

The  Harleian  manuscript,  No.  7334,  is  by  far 
the  best  manuscript  of  Chaucer's  Canterbury  Tales 
that  I  have  yet  examined,  in  regard  both  to  an- 
tiquity and  correctness.  The  hand-writing  is  one 
which  would  at  first  sight  be  taken  by  an  expe- 
rienced scholar  for  that  of  the  latter  part  of  the 
fourteenth  century,  and  it  must  have  been  written 


within  a  few  years  after  1400,  and  therefore  soon 
after  Chaucer's  death  and  the  publication  of  the 
Canterbury  Tales.  Its  language  has  very  little,  if 
any,  appearance  of  local  dialect ;  and  the  text  is 
in  general  extremely  good,  the  variations  from 
Tyrwhitt  being  usually  for  the  better.  Tyrwhitt 
appears  not  to  have  made  much  use  of  this  manu- 
script, and  he  has  not  even  classed  it  among  those 
to  which  most  credit  is  due. 

This  manuscript  I  have  adopted  as  the  text  of 
the  present  edition ;  the  alterations  I  have  ven- 
tured to  make  in  it  being  comparatively  few,  and 
only  such  as  appeared  absolutely  necessary.  It 
is  hardly  necessary  to  inform  those  who  are  in 
the  habit  of  consulting  medieval  manuscripts,  in 
whatever  language  they  may  be  written,  that 
none  of  them  are  clerically  accurate.  Some  of 
them  are  literally  filled  with  errors,  which  it  re- 
quires very  little  knowledge  to  perceive  and 
correct.  Many  errors  of  this  kind  are  found  in 
the  Harleian  manuscript  of  the  Canterbury  Tales 
of  which  I  am  speaking,  and  I  have  not  felt  the 
least  hesitation  in  correcting  them  by  comparison 
with  another  manuscript.  As  an  example  of  the 
kind  of  error  to  which  I  allude,  it  may  be  stated 
that  11.  3779,  3780,  stand  thus  in  the  MS.  :— 

Of  storial  thing  that  toucheth  gentilesse, 
And  eek  more  ryalte,  and  holynesse. 


XXXV11 

I  have,  without  hesitation,  followed  another  MS. 
in  correcting  the  two  words  in  italics  to  moralite ; 
and  in  cases  like  this  I  have  not  thought  it  neces- 
sary to  load  the  book  with  notes  pointing  out  the 
alterations.  In  other  instances,  where  a  reading 
in  the  Harl.  MS.,  although  affording  a  tolerable 
meaning,  has  appeared  to  me  a  decided  bad  one, 
I  have  changed  it  for  a  better,  always  (when  there 
is  room  for  the  least  doubt)  giving  the  original 
reading  of  the  manuscript  in  a  foot-note.  For 
this  purpose,  I  have  collated  the  text  throughout 
with  the  Lansdowne  MS.,  No.  851,  which  appears 
to  be,  of  those  in  the  British  Museum,  next  in 
antiquity  and  value  to  the  MS.  Harl. ;  and  I  have 
also  collated  it,  as  far  as  the  Wyf  of  Bathes  Tale, 
with  two  manuscripts  in  the  public  library  of  the 
University  of  Cambridge,  bearing  the  shelf-marks 
Mm.  2.  5.  (which  I  have  quoted  as  C.  1),  and 
Ii.  3,  26  (C.  2),  but  I  found  so  little  real  use  from 
these  latter  manuscripts,  that  I  thought  it  unne- 
cessary to  collate  them  further.  In  general,  I  have 
reaped  little  advantage  from  collating  a  number  of 
manuscripts. 

Tyrwhitfs  want  of  philological  knowledge  has 
rendered  his  text  unharmonious  as  well  as  un- 
grammatical.  The  final  e,  most  distinctly  pro- 
nounced, and  which  was  most  necessary  to  the 
metrical  completeness  of  the   line,  was  the  one 

d 


XXXV111 

which  marked  grammatical  inflections  and  ad- 
verbial forms,  and  this  he  has  constantly  dropped, 
and  he  has  therefore  printed  an  imperfect  line,  or 
given  it  supposed  perfection  by  adding  a  word  or 
placing  a  final  e  to  a  word  which  ought  not  to  have  it. 
I  may  observe,  that  it  was  a  constant  rule  to  elide 
the  final  e  in  pronunciation,  when  it  preceded  a 
word  beginning  with  a  vowel  or  with  the  letter  h, 
and  that  this  was  the  source  of  frequent  errors  of 
the  scribes,  who,  pronouncing  the  lines  as  they 
copied  them,  omitted  sometimes  to  write  the  letter 
which  they  did  not  pronounce,  and  thus  made  a 
grammatical  error,  which,  however,  every  reader 
at  the  time  could  see  and  correct.  Instances  of 
this  kind  of  error  are  not  of  unfrequent  occurrence 
in  the  Harl.  MS.  of  the  Canterbury  Tales,  but  I  have 
resisted  the  temptation  to  correct  them,  because  it 
appeared  to  me  dangerous,  in  our  present  know- 
ledge of  medieval  English,  to  presume  too  far  on 
our  acquaintance  with  every  nicety  of  the  gram- 
mar of  the  fourteenth  century.  In  many  cases, 
however,  these  are  certainly  errors.  Thus  in 
1.  5911  :— 

"  Have  thou  ynough,  what  thar  the  recch  or  care." 

We  ought  to  read  recche,  which  is  the  infinitive  of 
the  verb.     For  the  same  reason,  in  1.  6128, — 

"  And  for  to  walk  in  March,  Averil,  and  May," 

we  should  read  walke.     In  both  these  instances 


XXXIX 

the  final  e  has  been  lost  before  a  word  begin- 
ning with  a  vowel.  The  older  termination  of 
the  infinitive  was  in  en,  but  the  n  was  subse- 
quently dropped,  and  during  the  fourteenth  cen- 
tury, and  earlier  part  of  the  fifteenth,  the  two 
terminations  of  the  infinitive  in  en  and  e  were  used 
indiscriminately,  at  the  will  or  caprice  of  the  writer. 
In  poetry,  before  a  word  beginning  with  a  con- 
sonant, it  was  immaterial  which  form  was  used, 
but  before  a  word  beginning  with  a  vowel,  or  with 
k,  the  11  might  be  dropt  or  retained  accordingly  as 
the  final  syllable  of  the  word  was  required  or  not 
for  the  metre.  In  these  cases  the  scribe  has  not 
unfrequently  omitted  the  n  when  it  ought  to  have 
been  retained;  but  probably  the  thing  was  so  well 
understood,  that  it  mattered  little  how  it  was 
written,  the  reader  using  the  n  or  not  as  the  verse 
required  it,  whether  he  saw  it  in  the  manuscript 
or  not. 

With  the  exception  of  the  cases  above-men- 
tioned, I  have  reproduced  the  text  of  the  Harleian 
MS.  with  literal  accuracy.  My  object  has  been 
to  give  Chaucer,  as  far  as  can  be  done,  in  his 
own  language,  which  certainly  has  not  yet  been 
done  in  print.  I  doubt  much  if  the  different 
attempts  at  half  or  wholly  modernizing  his  lan- 
guage, which  have  been  made  in  latter  years, 
will  ever  render  him  popular ;   and  his  poetry  is 


xl 

entirely  lost  in  translations.  Surely,  when  we 
remember  the  oft-repeated  saying,  that  the  trouble 
of  learning  Spanish  is  well  repaid  by  the  simple 
pleasure  of  reading  Don  Quixote  in  the  original,  we 
may  well  be  allowed  to  wonder  that  any  English- 
man of  taste  should  refuse  the  comparatively 
trifling  labour  of  making  himself  acquainted  with 
his  own  language  of  little  more  than  four  centuries 
ago,  for  the  satisfaction  of  reading  and  under- 
standing the  poetry  of  his  glorious  countryman 
Geoffrey  Chaucer.  Changing  and  mutilating  is 
not,  in  my  opinion,  the  right  way  to  make  anything 
popular  ;  and  in  the  present  work  my  object  is  not 
the  mere  production  of  a  correct  (or,  at  least,  as 
correct  as  under  all  the  circumstances  can  be  ex- 
pected) edition  of  the  father  of  our  poetry ;  I 
would  try  the  experiment  of  making  his  writings 
popular  by  the  very  fact  of  their  being  correctly 
printed,  and  by  the  addition  of  popular  (and  not 
scholastic)  notes — notes  the  aim  of  which  is  to  ex- 
plain and  illustrate,  in  a  simple  and  unpretending 
manner,  allusions  and  expressions  which  may  not 
be  generally  known  to  those  who  are  not  in  the 
habit  of  studying  the  documents  and  the  antiqui- 
ties of  Chaucer's  age.  For  this  purpose,  I  avail 
myself  of  everything  within  my  reach.  Although 
I  have  felt  it  necessary  to  speak  unreservedly  of 
the  defects  of  Tyrwhitt's  text, — for  which  we  must 


xli 

of  course  make  some  allowance  in  consideration  of 
the  low  state  of  philological  science,  as  far  as  it 
regarded  the  middle  ages,  in  his  time, — yet  it  must 
be  allowed  to  his  credit  that  he  entered  upon  his 
labours  in  editing  Chaucer  with  zeal,  and  executed 
them  with  no  small  share  of  labour  and  research. 
His  notes  on  the  Canterbury  Tales  contain  much 
that  is  useful  and  valuable,  and  this  I  have  un- 
scrupulously transferred  to  my  own  edition,  either 
in  his  own  words  or  in  an  abridged  form. 

Tyrvvhitt's  Chaucer,  with  all  its  defects,  has  now 
for  many  years  been  the  only  edition  commonly 
quoted  both  at  home  and  abroad,  and  to  the  num- 
bering of  the  lines  in  that  edition  references  have 
been  made  in  so  many  publications  of  differ- 
ent descriptions,  that  to  change  this  numbering 
in  a  new  edition  would  cause  almost  as  much 
confusion  as  the  substitution  of  duodecimal  for 
decimal  numeration  among  mathematicians;  yet 
there  are  not  only  spurious  lines  and  passages  in 
Tyrwhitt's  edition  to  be  rejected,  but  there  are 
passages  here  and  there  to  be  added  from  the  Har- 
leian  MS.,  which  he,  following  other  manuscripts 
or  the  printed  editions,  had  omitted,  and  which 
nevertheless  I  believe  to  be  perfectly  genuine.  To 
obviate  as  much  as  possible  the  inconvenience  which 
might  thus  arise,  I  have  retained  between  [  ]  the 
lines  printed  by  Tyrwhitt  which  are  not  in  the 


xlii 

Harleian  MS.,  and  I  have  inserted  without  num- 
bering them  the  lines  of  the  Harleian  MS.  which 
are  not  found  in  Tyrwhitt,  adding  in  every  in- 
stance a  note  to  explain  the  apparent  irregularity. 
In  this  manner,  the  ,  references  to  Tyrwhitfs 
Chaucer  will  suit  equally  with  the  present  edition. 


THE 

CANTERBURY  TALES. 


/  !u^  ,(l 


The  Canterbury  FiUrims,  from  an  illuminate  i 


THE    PROLOGUE. 
Whan  that  Aprille  with  his  schowres  swoote 
The  drought  of  Marche  hath  perced  to  the  roote, 
And  bathud  every  veyne  in  swich  licour, 
Of  which  vertue  engendred  is  the  flour; — 
Whan  Zephirus  eek  with  liis  swete  breeth 

B 


THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Enspirud  hath  in  every  holte  and  heeth  c 

The  tendre  croppes,  and  the  yonge  sonne  ^y 

Hath  in  the  Ram  his  halfe  cours  i-ronne, 

And  smale  fowles  maken  melodie, 

That  slepen  al  the  night  with  open  yhe, 

So  priketh  hem  nature  in  here  corages  : — 

Thanne  longen  folk  to  gon  on  pilgrimages, 

And  palmers  for  to  seeken  straunge  strondes, 

To  feme  halwes,  kouthe  in  sondry  londes  ;  14 

And  specially,  from  every  schires  ende 

Of  Engelond,  to  Canturbury  they  wende, 

The  holy  hlisful  martir  for  to  seeke, 

That  hem  hath  holpen  whan  that  they  were  seeke. 

Byfel  that,  in  that  sesoun  on  a  day, 
In  Southwerk  at  the  Tahbard  as  I  lay, 
Redy  to  wenden  on  my  pilgrimage 
To  Canturbury  with  ful  devout  corage, 
At  night  was  come  into  that  hostelrie 
Wei  nyne  and  twenty  in  a  companye, 
Of  sondry  folk,  by  aventure  i-falle 
In  felaschipe,  and  pilgryms  were  thei  alle, 
That  toward  Canturbury  wolden  ryde. 
The  chambres  and  the  stables  weren  wyde, 
And  wcl  we  weren  esud  atte  beste.  29 


S. — the  Ram.  Tyrwhitt  thinks  Chaucer  has  made  a  mistake,  ami  that 
it  ought  to  he  the  Bull,  because,  the  showers  of  April  having  pierced  the 
drouth  of  March  to  the  root,  the  sun  must  have  passed  through  the  sign 
of  the  Ram  and  entered  that  of  the  Bull. 

]'t. — feme.  Nearly  all  the  MSS.  I  have  examined,  and  certainly  the 
best,  agree  in  this  reading.  Tyrwhitt  has  adopted  the  reading  serv<:, 
which  probably  originated  in  mistaking  "feme"  for  "feme," — ferne 
Italwes  means  distant  saints. 


THE     PROLOGUE.  •'» 

And  schortly,  whan  the  sonne  was  to  reste,  3° 

So  hadde  I  spoken  with  hem  everychon, 

That  I  was  of  here  felawschipe  anon, 

And  made  forward  erly  to  aryse, 

To  take  oure  weye  ther  as  I  yow  devyse. 

But  natheles,  whiles  I  have  tyrne  and  space 

Or  that  I  ferthere  in  this  tale  pace, 

Me  thinketh  it  acordant  to  resoun, 

To  telle  yow  alle  the  condicioun  38 

Of  echo  of  hem,  so  as  it  semed  me, 

And  which  they  weren,  and  of  what  degre  ; 

And  eek  in  what  array  that  they  were  inne  : 

And  at  a  knight  than  wrol  I  first  hygynne. 

A  Knight  ther  was,  and  that  a  worthy  man 
That  from  the  tyme  that  he  ferst  bigan 
To  ryden  out,  he  lovede  chyvalrye, 
Trouthe  and  honour,  fredom  and  eurtesie  46 

Ful  worthi  was  he  in  his  lordes  werre, 
And  therto  hadde  he  riden,  noman  ferre, 
As  wel  in  Cristendom  as  in  hethenesse, 
And  evere  honoured  for  his  worthinesse. 
At  Alisandrc  he  was  whan  it  was  wonne. 
Ful  ofte  tyme  he  hadde  the  bord  bygonne  52 


43. — A  knight.  It  was  a  common  thing,  in  this  age,  for  knights  to 
sock  employment  in  foreign  countries  which  were  at  war.  Tyrwhitt  cites 
from  Lelaml  the  epitaph  of  a  knight  of  (his  period,  Matthew  de  Gour- 
nay,  who  "en  sa  vie  fu  a  la  bataille  de  Benamarin,  et  ala  apr&s  d  la  siege 
d'Algezire  sur  les  Sarazine$,et  outsit)  lex  halaillex  de  L' Ese\uxi\de  ( 'rexxi/, 
de  Deyngenesse,  de  Pey teres,  de  Nazare,  cCOzrey,  d  a  puhows  autres 
baiailles  et  asseges." 

51. —  Alisaudie.  Alexandria,  iii  Egypt,  was  taken  l>v  Pierre  de  Lu- 
signau,  king  of  Cyprus,  in  136;),  hut  immediately  afterwards  abandoned. 

b2 


THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Aboven  alle  naciouns  in  Pruce.  53 

In  Lettowe  hadcle  reyced  and  in  Ruce, 

No  cristen  man  so  ofte  of  his  degre. 

In  Gemade  atte  siege  hadde  he  be 

Of  Algesir,  and  riden  in  Belinarie. 

At  Lieys  was  he.  and  at  Satalie, 

Whan  they  were  wonne  ;  and  in  the  Greete  see 

At  many  a  noble  arive  hadde  he  be. 

At  mortal  batailles  hadde  he  ben  fiftene,  61 

And  foughten  for  oure  feith  at  Tramassene 

In  lystes  thries,  and  ay  slayn  his  foo. 

This  ilke  worthi  knight  hadde  ben  also 

Somtyme  with  the  lord  of  Palatye, 

Ageyn  another  hethene  in  Turkye  : 

And  everemore  he  hadde  a  sovereyn  prys. 

And  though  that  he  was  worthy  he  was  wys,         •   68 

And  of  his  port  as  meke  as  is  a  mayde. 

He  never  yit  no  vilonye  ne  sayde 

In  al  his  lyf,  unto  no  maner  wight. 

He  was  a  verray  perfight  gentil  knight. 

But  for  to  telle  you  of  his  aray  : 

His  hors  was  good,  but  he  ne  was  nought  gay.         74 


53. —  Pruce.  The  knights  of  the  Teutonic  order,  in  Prussia,  were 
engaged  in  continual  warfare  with  their  pagan  neighbours  in  Lithuania 
(Lettowe),  Russia,  &c. 

56. — Gemade.  The  city  of  Algezir  was  taken  from  the  Moorish  king 
of  Granada,  in  1311.  Belinarie  appears  to  have  been  one  of  the  Moorish 
states  in  Africa.  Layas  {Lieys)  in  Armenia,  was  taken  from  the  Turks 
by  Pierre  de  Lusignan,  about  13G7.  Satalie  was  taken  by  the  same  prince 
soon  alter  1352.  Tremessen  was  one  of  the  Moorish  states  in  Africa. 
Palathia,  in  Anatolia,  was  one  of  the  lordships  held  by  Christian  knights 
after  the  Turkish  conquests. 


THE     PROLOGUE.  5 

Of  fustyan  he  wered  a  gepoun  75 

Al  bysmoterud  with  his  haburgeoun, 
For  he  was  late  conien  from  his  viage, 
And  wente  for  to  doon  his  pilgrimage. 

With  him  ther  was  his  soue,  a  yong  Squyer, 
A  lovyer,  and  a  lusty  bacheler, 
With  lokkes  crulle  as  they  were  layde  in  presse. 
Of  twenty  yeer  he  was  of  age  I  gesse. 
Of  his  stature  he  was  of  evene  lengthe,  83 

And  wondurly  delyver,  and  gret  of  strengthe. 
And  he  hadde  ben  somtyme  in  chivachie, 
In  Flaundres,  in  Artoys,  and  in  Picardie, 
And  burn  him  wel,  as  in  so  litel  space, 
In  hope  to  stonden  in  his  lady  grace. 
Embrowdid  was  he,  as  it  were  a  mede 
Al  ful  of  fresshe  floures,  white  and  reede. 
Syngynge  he  was,  or  flowtynge,  al  the  day,  9 1 

He  was  as  fressh  as  is  the  moneth  of  May. 
Schort  was  his  goune,  with  sleeves  long  and  wyde. 
Wel  cowde  he  sitte  on  hors,  and  faire  ryde. 
He  cowde  songes  wel  make  and  endite, 
Justne  and  eek  daunce,  and  wel  purtray  and  write. 
So  bote  he  lovcde,  that  by  nightertale 
He  sleep  nomore  than  doth  a  nightyngale. 
Curteys  he  was,  lowly,  and  servysable,  99 


85  — chivachie.  Every  reader  of  the  contemporary  histories  of  Edward 
the  Third's  wars  in  France,  knows  the  pride  which  the  knights  took  in 
shewing  their  courage  in  the  continual  chcvachies,  or  little  excursions,  into 
the  enemy's  country. 

94. — faire.  I  have  substituted  this  reading  from  other  MSS.,in  place 
of  wel  coivde  fee,  given  by  the  Harl.  MS.,  which  appears  to  be  u  mere 
blundering  repetition. 


THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

And  carf  byforn  his  fadur  at  the  table.  100 

A  Yeman  had  he,  and  servantes  nomoo 

At  that  tyme,  for  him  lust  ryde  soo ; 

And  he  was  clad  in  coote  and  hood  of  grenc. 

A  shef  of  pocok  arwes  bright  and  kene 

Under  his  belte  he  bar  full  thriftily. 

Wei  cowde  he  dresse  his  takel  yomanly  : 

His  arwes  drowpud  nought  with  fetheres  lowe. 

And  in  his  bond  he  bar  a  mighty  bowe.  108 

A  not-heed  hadde  he,  with  a  broun  visage. 

Of  woode-craft  cowde  he  wel  al  the  usage. 

Upon  his  arme  he  bar  a  gay  bracer, 

And  by  his  side  a  swerd  and  a  bokeler, 

And  on  that  other  side  a  gay  daggere, 

Harneysed  wel,  and  scharp  as  poynt  of  spere  : 

A  Cristofre  on  his  brest  of  silver  schene. 

An  horn  he  bar,  the  bawdrik  was  of  grene;  H6 

A  forster  was  he  sothely,  as  I  gesse. 
Ther  was  also  a  Nonne,  a  Pkioeesse, 

That  of  hire  smylyng  was  ful  syniple  and  coy  ; 

Hire  grettest  ooth  nas  but  by  seynt  Loy ; 

And  sche  was  clept  madame  Englentyne. 


104. — pocok  arwes.  Arrows  fledged  with  peacock's  feathers.  They 
appear  to  have  been  larger  than  tin'  common  arrows.  In  a  compotus 
of  the  Bishop  of  Winchester,  in  1171  (cited  by  Warton,  Hist.  E.  P.  ii. 
p.  211),  wo  have  one  head: — "Sagittce  magna.  Et  de  c.vliv.  sagiltis 
magnis  barbatis  cum  permit  pavonum." 

11-5. — A  Cristofre.  A  figure  of  St.  Christopher  used  as  a  brooch. 
On  the  use  of  these  brooches,  or  signs,  see  an  interesting  paper,  by  Mr. 
C.  Roach  Smith,  in  the  Journal  of  the  British  Archaeological  Associa- 
tion, vol.  i.  p.  200.  The  figure  of  St.  Christopher  was  looked  upon  with 
particular  reverence  among  the  middle  and  lower  classes;  and  was  sup 
posed  to  possess  the  power  of  shielding  the  person  who  looked  on  it  from 
hidden  dangers. 


THE     PROLOGUE.  / 

Ful  wel  sche  sang  the  servise  devyne,  122 

Entuned  in  hire  nose  ful  senryly ; 

And  Frensch  sche  spak  ful  faire  and  fetysly, 

Aftur  the  scole  of  Stratford  atte  Bowe, 

For  Frensch  of  Parys  was  to  hire  unknowe. 

At  rnete  wel  i-taught  was  sche  withalle ; 

Sche  leet  no  morsel  from  hire  lippes  falle, 

Ne  wette  hire  fyngres  in  hire  sauce  deepe. 

Wel  cowde  sche  carie  a  morsel,  and  wel  keepe,      130 

That  no  drope  fil  uppon  hire  brest. 

In  curtesie  was  sett  al  hire  lest. 

Hire  overlippe  wypud  sche  so  clene, 

That  in  hire  cuppe  was  no  ferthing  sene 

Of  grees,  whan  sche  dronken  hadde  hire  draught, 

Ful  semely  aftur  hire  mete  sche  raught. 

And  sikurly  sche  was  of  gret  disport, 

And  ful  plesant,  and  amyable  of  port,  138 

And  peyned  hire  to  counterfete  cheere 

Of  court,  and  ben  estatlich  of  manere, 

And  to  ben  holden  digne  of  reverence. 

But  for  to  speken  of  hire  conscience, 

Sche  was  so  charitable  and  so  pitous, 

120. — Hi.  hoy.  Probably  a  corruption  of  St.  Eloy,  or  St.  Eligius.  It 
is  the  reading  of  all  the  MSS.,  and  Tyrwhitt  ought  not  to  have  changed 
it.     The  same  oath  occurs  in  the  Freres  Tale,  1.  7143. 

124. — Frensch.  The  French  taught  in  England  was  the  debased 
form  of  the  old  Anglo-Norman,  somewhat  similar  to  that  used  at  a 
later  period  in  the  courts  of  law;  and  it  was  this  at  which  Chaucer, 
and  some  of  his  contemporaries,  sneered.  The  writer  of  the  Visions  of 
Piers  Ploughman  speaks  of  French  of  Norfolk,  1.  291!) 

127. — At  mete.  These  remarks  agree,  almost  literally,  with  the  direc- 
tions e<iiit. lined  in  the  different  medieval  tracts  written  fOr  the  purpose  of 
teaching  manners  at  table. 


> 


8  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Sche  wolde  weepe  if  that  sche  sawe  a  inous  H-t 

Caught  in  a  trappe,  if  it  were  deed  or  bledde. 

Of  smale  houndes  hadde  sche,  that  sche  fedde 

With  rostud  ileissh  aud  mylk  and  wastel  breed. 

But  sore  wepte  sche  if  oon  of  hem  were  deed, 

Or  if  men  smot  it  with  a  yerde  smerte  : 

And  al  was  conscience  and  tendre  herte. 

Ful  semely  hire  wymple  i-pynched  was ; 

Hire  nose  streight ;  hire  eyen  grey  as  glas  ;  1 52 

Hire  mouth  ful  smal,  and  therto  softe  and  reed ; 

But  sikurly  sche  hadde  a  fail  forheed. 

It  was  almost  a  spanne  brood,  I  trowe ; 

For  hardily  sche  was  not  undurgrowe. 

Ful  fetys  was  hire  cloke,  as  I  was  waar. 

Of  smal  coral  aboute  hire  arme  sche  baar 

A  peire  of  bedes  gaudid  al  with  grene  ; 

And  theron  heng  a  broch  of  gold  ful  schene,  160 

149  — men  smot.  The  word  men,  used  in  this  phrase,  appears  here 
construed  with  a  singular  verb,  as  though  it  had  been  man  (on  frappa). 
So  again  below,  1.  169,  men  might.  So  in  a  poem  in  my  Political  Songs, 
p.  330,  "  Where  sited  men  nu  finde." 

152. — eyen  grey.  This  appears  to  have  been  the  favourite  colour  of 
ladies'  eyes  in  the  time  of  Chaucer.  The  young  girl,  in  the  Reves 
Tale,  is  described — 

"  With  camoys  nose,  and  eyghen  gray  as  glas." 

160.—  a  broch.  In  1S15  a 
brooch,  of  the  form  of  an  A, 
represented  in  the  accompany- 
ing cut,  was  found  in  a  field  in 
Dorsetshire.  It  appears  to  be  of 
the  fourteenth  century,  and  af- 
fords a  curious  illustration  of 
this  passage  of  Chaucer.  The 
inscription  on  one  side  seems  to  be, — 

"  IO    FAS    AMER    K     DOZ    DE    AMEJR.' 


THE    PROLOGUE.  9 

On  which  was  first  i-writen  a  crowned  A,  161 

And  after  that,  Amor  viuclt  omnia. 
Anothur  Nonne  also  with  hire  hadde  sche, 
That  was  hire  ehapelleyn,  and  Prestes  thre. 
A  Monk  ther  was,  a  fair  for  the  maistrie, 
An  out-rydere,  that  loved  venerye  ; 
A  manly  man,  to  ben  an  abbot  able. 
Ful  many  a  deynte  hors  hadde  he  in  stable  : 
And  whan  he  rood,  men  might  his  bridel  heere      169 
Gyngle  in  a  whistlyng  wynd  so  cleere, 
And  eek  as  lowde  as  doth  the  chapel  belle, 
Ther  as  the  lord  was  keper  of  the  selle. 
The  reule  of  seynt  Maine  or  of  seint  Beneyt, 
Bycause  that  it  was  old  and  somdel  streyt, 
This  ilke  monk  leet  olde  thinges  pace,  175 

166. — loved  venerye.  The  monks  of  the  middle  ages  were  extremely 
attached  to  hunting  and  field-sports,  and  this  was  a  frequent  subject  of 
complaint  with  the  more  austere  ecclesiastics,  and  of  satire  with  the  laity. 
170. — gyngle.  It  was  a  universal  practice  among  riders  who  wished 
to  be  thought  fashionable,  to  have  their  horses' bridles  hung  with  bells. 
The  Templars  were  blamed  for  this  vanity,  in  the  thirteenth  century.  In 
the  romance  of  Richard  Caeur  de  Lion,  the  sultan  of  Damas  has  a  trusty 
mare,  of  which  we  are  told, — 

"  Hys  crouper  heeng  al  ful  of  belles, 
And  his  peytrel,  and  his  arsoun, 
Three  myle  myghte  men  bear  the  sown." 
Wycliffe,  in  his  Triloge,  inveighs  against  the  priests  of  his  time  for 
their  "  fair  hors,  and  joly  and  gay  sadeles,  and  bridles  ringing  by  the 
way."     At  a  much  later  period,  Spencer  describes  a  lady's  steed,— 
"  Her  wanton  palfrey  all  was  overspread 
With  tinsel  trappings,  woven  like  a  wave, 
Whose  bridle  rung  with  golden  bells  and  bosses  brave." 
173. — The  reule.     The  rules  of  St.  Maure  and  St.  Benet  were  the 
oldest  forms  of  monastic  discipline  in  the  Romish  church. 

175. — oldc  thinges.  This  is  the  reading  of  most  of  the  MSS.,  and  I 
have  adopted  it  instead  of  that  of  the  MS.  Harl.,  forby  hem,  which  appears 
to  give  no  clear  sense. 


[0  THE    OANTEEBUKY    TALES. 

And  hekle  aftur  the  newe  world  the  space.  176 

He  gaf  nat  of  that  text  a  pulled  hen, 

That  seith,  that  hunters  heen  noon  holy  men ; 

Ne  that  a  monk,  whan  he  is  cloysterles, 

Is  likned  to  a  fissche  that  is  watirles  ; 

This  is  to  seyn,  a  monk  out  of  his  cloystre. 

But  thilke  text  hild  he  not  worth  an  oystre. 

And  I  seide  his  opinioun  was  good. 

What  schulde  he  studie,  and  make  himselven  wood, 

nppon  a  book  in  cloystre  alway  to  powre,  185 

Or  swynke  with  his  handes,  and  laboure, 

As  Austyn  byt  ?     How  schal  the  world  be  served  ? 

Lat  Austyn  have  his  swynk  to  him  reserved. 

Therfore  he  was  a  pricasour  aright : 

Greyhoundes  he  hadde  as  swifte  as  fowel  in  flight : 

Of  prikyng  and  of  huntyng  for  the  hare 

Was  al  his  lust,  for  no  cost  wolde  he  spare.  192 

I  saugh  his  sieves  purfiled  atte  hond 

With  grys,  and  that  the  fynest  of  a  lond. 

And  for  to  festne  his  hood  undur  his  chyn 

He  hadde  of  gold  y- wrought  a  curious  pyn  : 

A  love-knotte  in  the  gretter  ende  ther  was. 

His  heed  was  ballid,  and  schon  as  eny  glas, 

And  eek  his  face,  as  he  hadde  be  anoynt. 

He  was  a  lord  ful  fat  and  in  good  poynt.  200 

179. — cloysterles.  This  is  also  the  reading  of  a  Cambridge  MS.  The 
passage  is  a  literal  translation  of  one  from  the  Decretal  of  Gratian,  as 
cited  by  Tyrwhitt, — "  Sicut  piscis  sine  aqua  caret  vita, ita  sine  monasterio 
monachus."  The  other  readings,  rekkeles,  recheles,  &c,  found  in  most  of 
the  MSS.,  present  considerable  difficulties  ;  and  Tyrwhitt's  explanation 
seenu  hardly  admissible. 


THE    TROLOGUE.  11 

His  eycn  steep,  and  rollyng  in  his  heed,  201 

That  stemed  as  a  forneys  of  a  leed. 

His  bootcs  souple,  his  hors  in  gret  estat, 

Now  certeinly  he  was  a  fair  prelat. 

He  was  not  pale  as  a  for-pyned  goost. 

A  fat  swan  loved  he  best  of  eny  roost. 

His  palfray  was  as  broun  as  eny  berye. 

A  Fkere  ther  was,  a  wantoun  and  a  merye, 
A  lymytour,  a  ful  solempne  man.  209 

In  alle  the  ordres  foure  is  noon  that  can 
So  moche  of  daliaunee  and  fair  langage. 
He  hadde  i-made  many  a  fair  manage 
Of  yonge  wymmen,  at  his  owne  cost. 
Unto  his  ordre  he  was  a  noble  post. 
Ful  wel  biloved,  and  famulier  was  he, 
With  frankeleyns  over  al  in  his  cuntre, 
And  eek  with  worthi  wommen  of  the  toun  :  217 

For  he  hadde  power  of  confessioun, 
As  seyde  himself,  more  than  a  curat, 
For  of  his  ordre  he  was  licenciat. 
Ful  sweetly  herde  he  confessioun, 
And  plcsaunt  was  his  absolucioun  ; 
He  was  an  esy  man  to  geve  penance, 
Ther  as  he  wiste  to  han  a  good  pitance  : 
For  unto  a  povre  ordre  for  to  geve  225 


203. — souple.  "This  is  part  of  the  description  ol  a  smart  abbot,  by 
an  anonymous  writer  of  the  thirteenth  century: — 'Ocreas  habebat  in 
cruribus,  quasi  innate  essenl,  sine  plica  porreclas.' — MS.  Bodl.,  James, 
n.  0.  p.  Iltl."—Tyrwhitt. 


12  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Is  signe  that  a  man  is  wel  i-schreve.  226 

For  if  he  gaf,  he  dorste  make  avaimt, 

He  wiste  that  a  man  was  repentaunt. 

For  many  a  man  so  hard  is  of  his  herte, 

He  may  not  wepe  though  him  sore  smerte. 

Therfore  in  stede  of  wepyng  and  prayeres, 

Men  mooten  given  silver  to  the  pore  freres. 

His  typet  was  ay  farsud  ful  of  knyfes 

And  pynnes,  for  to  give  faire  wyfes.  234 

And  certayn  he  hadde  a  mery  noote. 

Wel  couthe  he  synge  and  pleye  on  a  rote. 

Of  yeddynges  he  har  utturly  the  prys. 

His  nekke  whit  was  as  the  flour-dedys. 

Therto  he  strong  was  as  a  champiomi, 

He  knew  wel  the  tavemes  in  every  toun, 

And  every  ostiller  or  gay  tapstere, 

Bet  than  a  lazer,  or  a  heggere,  242 

For  unto  such  a  worthi  man  as  he 

Acorded  not,  as  by  his  faculte, 

To  have  with  sike  lazars  aqueyntaunce. 

It  is  not  honest,  it  may  not  avaunce, 

For  to  delen  with  such  poraile, 

But  al  with  riche  and  sellers  of  vitaille. 

And  over  al,  ther  eny  profyt  schulde  arise, 

Curteys  he  was,  and  lowe  of  servyse. 

Ther  was  no  man  nowher  so  vertuous. 

He  was  the  beste  beggcr  in  al  his  hous  :  252 

237. — yeddynges.      MS.  C.  2,  reads  weddinges. 


THE    rnOLOGUE.  13 

[And  gave  a  certaine  ferme  for  the  grant,  253 

Non  of  his  bretheren  came  in  his  haunt]. 
For  though  a  widewe  hadde  but  oo  schoo, 
So  plesaunt  was  his  In  principio, 
Yet  wolde  he  have  a  ferthing  or  he  wente. 
His  purchace  was  bettur  than  his  rente. 
And  rage  he  couthe  and  pleye  as  a  whelpe, 
In  love-dayes  ther  couthe  he  mochil  helpe. 
For  ther  was  he  not  like  a  eloysterer,  261 

With  a  thredbare  cope,  as  a  pore  scoler, 
But'he  was  like  a  maister  or  a  pope. 
Of  double  worstede  was  his  semy-cope, 
That  rounded  was  as  a  belle  out  of  presse. 
Somwhat  he  lipsede,  for  wantounesse, 
To  make  his  Englissch  swete  upon  his  tunge  ; 
And  in  his  harpyng,  whan  that  he  hadde  sunge, 
His  eyghen  twynkeled  in  his  heed  aright,  269 

As  don  the  sterres  in  the  frosty  night. 
This  worthi  lymytour  was  called  Huberd. 
A  Marchaunt  was  ther  with  a  forked  berd, 

253,  251 — These  two  lines  are  wanting  in  all  the  MSS.  I  have  con- 
sulted, a  circumstance  of  which  Tyrwhitt  takes  no  notice,  though  they  are 
an  evident  interpolation.  He  seems  to  have  taken  them  from  the  old 
printed  editions. 

258. — purchace.  This  sentiment,  or  proverh,  is  taken  literally  from  a 
line  in  the  Romance  of  the  Rose, — 

"  Mieux  vault  mon  pourchas  que  ma  rente." 

272. — forked  berd.  In  Shotteshrooke  church, 
Berks,  there  is  a  hrass  of  a  Franklin,  of  the  time  of 
Edward  III,  in  which  he  is  represented  with  a  forked 
heard,  as  in  the  accompanying  out,  which  seems  to 
have  been  the  fashionable  mode  of  dressing  the  heard 
among  tho  bourgeoisie.  The  Anglo-Saxons  wore 
forked  beards. 


II  CHE    CANXEKBUBI    TALES. 

In  motteleye,  and  high  on  horse  he  sat,  273 

Uppon  his  heed  a  Flaundrisch  bever  hat. 

His  botus  clapsud  faire  and  fetously. 

His  resons  he  spak  ful  solempnely, 

Sownynge  alway  the  encres  of  his  wynnyng 

He  wolde  the  see  were  kepud  for  eny  thing 

Betwixe  Middulburgh  and  Orewelle. 

Wei  couthe  he  in  eschange  schceldes  selle. 

This  worthi  man  ful  wel  his  witte  bisette  ;  281 

Ther  wiste  no  man  that  he  was  in  dette, 

So  estately  was  he  of  governaunce, 

With  his  bargayns,  and  with  his  chevysaunce. 

For  sothe  he  was  a  worthi  man  withalle, 

But  soth  to  say,  I  not  what  men  him  calle. 

A  Clerk  ther  was  of  Oxenford  also, 
That  unto  logik  hadde  longe  i-go. 
Al  so  lene  was  his  hors  as  is  a  rake,  289 

And  he  was  not  right  fat,  I  undertake  ; 
But  lokecle  holwe,  and  therto  soburly. 
Ful  thredbare  was  his  overest  courtepy, 
For  he  hadde  nought  geten  him  yit  a  benefice, 
Ne  was  not  worthy  to  haven  an  office. 
For  him  was  lever  have  at  his  beddes  heed 
Twenty  bookes,  clothed  in  blak  and  reed, 
Of  Aristotil,  and  of  his  philosophic,  297 

Then  robus  riche,  or  fithul,  or  sawtrie. 
But  al  though  he  were  a  philosophre, 
Yet  hadde  he  but  litul  gold  in  cofre, 
But  al  that  he  might  of  his  frendes  hente, 


THE     PROLOGUE.  I  .") 

On  bookes  and  his  lernyng  he  it  spente,  302 

And  busily  gan  for  tho  soules  pray 

Of  hem  that  gaf  him  wherwith  to  scolay. 

Of  studie  tooke  he  most  cure  and  heede. 

Not  oo  word  spak  he  more  than  was  neede  ; 

Al  that  he  spak  it  was  of  heye  prudence, 

And  schort  and  quyk,  and  fill  of  gret  sentence 

Sownynge  in  moral  manere  was  his  speche, 

And  gladly  wolde  he  leme,  and  gladly  teche.         310 

A  Sergeant  of  Lawe,  war  and  wys, 
That  often  hadde  ben  atte  parvys, 
Ther  was  also,  ful  riche  of  excellence. 
Discret  he  was,  and  of  gret  reverence  : 
He  semed  such,  his  wordes  were  so  wise, 
Justice  he  was  ful  often  in  assise, 
By  patent,  and  by  pleyn  commissioun ; 
For  his  science,  and  for  his  heih  renoun,  318 

Of  fees  and  robes  had  he  many  oon. 
So  gret  a  purchasour  was  ther  nowher  noon. 
Al  was  fee  symple  to  him  in  effecte, 

801. — might  of  his  frendes  hente. — This  is  the  reading  of  most  of  the 
MSS.,  and  appears  to  he  the  right  one.  The  MS.  Harl.  reads,  might 
,/'  lr  and  liis  frendes  sende. 

301. — gaf  him.  An  allusion  to  the  common  practice,  at  this  period,  of 
poor  scholars  in  the  universities,  who  wandered  about  the  country,  beg- 
ging,  to  raise  money  to  support  them  in  their  studies.  See  Piers  riough- 
man,  1.  4525,  and  note. 

312. — parvys.  This  is  generally  explained  as  a  portico  before  a  church. 
Tho  parvis  at  London,  supposed  to  be  that  of  St.  Paul's,  was  anciently 
frequented  by  sergeants  at-law,  as  we  learn  from  Fortcscuc,  deLaud.  leg. 
Angl.  c.  51, — "  Post  meridiem  curia  mm  tenentur;  sed  placitanles  turn 
se  divert  a  al  ml  pervisum  et  alibi,  consulentes  cum  servientibus  ml  legem,  et 
.iliix  consiliariU  suis."  See  also  Warton's  llisi.  of  Eng.  Poetry,  edit,  of 
1810,  vol.  ii.  p.  212. 


16  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

His  purchasyng  might  nought  ben  to  him  suspecte. 

Nowher  so  besy  a  man  as  he  ther  nas,  323 

And  yit  he  semecl  besier  than  he  was. 

In  termes  haclcle  caas  and  domes  alle, 

That  fro  the  tyme  of  kyng  Will,  were  falle. 

Therto  he  couthe  endite,  and  make  a  thing, 

Ther  couthe  no  man  pynche  at  his  writyng. 

And  every  statute  couthe  he  pleyn  by  roote. 

He  rood  but  hoomly  in  a  medled  coote, 

Gird  with  a  seynt  of  silk,  with  barres  smale  ;         331 

Of  his  array  telle  I  no  lenger  tale. 

A  Frankeleyn  ther  was  in  his  companye ; 
Whit  was  his  berde,  as  the  dayesye. 
Of  his  complexioun  he  was  sangwyn. 
Wei  loved  he  in  the  mom  a  sop  of  wyn. 
To  lyve  in  delite  was  al  his  wone, 

For  he  was  Epicurius  owne  sone, 

That  heeld  opynyoun  that  pleyn  delyt  339 

Was  verraily  felicite  perfyt. 

An  househaldere,  and  that  a  gret,  was  he ; 

Seynt  Julian  he  was  in  his  countre. 

His  breed,  his  ale,  was  alway  after  oon ; 

A  bettre  envyned  man  was  nowher  noon. 

Withoute  bake  mete  was  never  his  hous, 

Of  fleissch  and  fissch,  and  that  so  plentyvous, 

It  snewed  in  his  hous  of  mete  and  drynk,  347 

Of  alle  deyntees  that  men  cowde  thynke, 

Aftur  the  sondry  sesouns  of  the  yeer, 

"  12.     St.  Julian  was  tin1  patron  of  hospitality. 


THE     PROLOGUE.  ]  7 

He  chaunged  hem  at  mete  and  at  soper.  350 

Ful  many  a  fat  partricli  had  he  in  mewe, 

And  many  a  brem  and  many  a  luce  in  stewe. 

Woo  was  his  cook,  but  if  his  sauce  were 

Poynant  and  scharp,  and  redy  al  his  gere. 

His  table  dormant  in  his  halle  alway 

Stood  redy  covered  al  the  longe  day. 

At  sessions  ther  was  he  lord  and  sire. 

Ful  ofte  tyme  he  was  knight  of  tho  schiro. 

An  anlas  and  a  gipser  al  of  silk 

Heng  at  his  gerdul,  whit  as  mome  mylk.  360 

A  schirreve  hadde  he  ben,  and  a  counter  ; 

Was  nowher  such  a  worthi  vavaser. 

An  Habtjrdassher  and  a  Carpenter, 
A  Webbe,  a  Deter,  and  a  Tapicer, 
Weren  with  us  eeke,  clothed  in  oo  lyvere, 
Of  a  solempne  and  gret  fraternite. 
Ful  freissh  and  newe  here  gere  piked  was  ; 
Here  knyfes  were  i-chapud  nat  with  bras, 
But  al  with  silver  wrought  ful  clone  and  wel, 
Here  gurdles  and  here  pouches  every  del.  370 

Wel  semed  echo  of  hem  a  fair  burgcys, 
To  sitten  in  a  geldehalle,  on  the  deys. 
Every  man  for  the  wisdom  that  he  can, 
Was  schaply  for  to  ben  an  aldurman. 


352. — in  stewe  ;  i.  e.,  in  a  fish-pond.  The  great  consumption  of  fish 
under  the  Romish  regime  rendered  a  fish-pond  a  necessary  accessor;  to 
every  gentleman's  house. 

OUr,.— tabic  dormant.      Probably  the  fixed  table  al  the  end  of  the  hall. 


]  8  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

For  catel  hadde  they  inough  and  rente, 

And  eek  here  wyfes  Avolde  it  wel  assente  : 

And  elles  certeyn  hadde  thei  ben  to  blame. 

It  is  right  fair  for  to  be  clept  madame, 

And  for  to  go  to  vigilies  al  byfore, 

And  ban  a  mantel  rially  i-bore.  380 

A  Cook  thei  hadde  with  hem  for  the  nones, 
To  boyle  chiknes  and  the  mary  bones, 
And  poudre  marchant,  tart,  and  galyngale. 
Wel  cowde  he  knowe  a  draught  of  Londone  ale. 
He  cowde  roste,  sethe,  broille,  and  frie, 
Make  mortreux,  and  wel  bake  a  pye. 
But  gret  harm  was  it,  as  it  semede  me, 
That  on  his  schyne  a  mormal  hadde  he  ; 
For  blankmanger  he  made  with  the  beste. 

A  Schipman  was  ther,  wonyng  fer  by  weste :      390 
For  ought  I  woot,  he  was  of  Dertemouthe. 
He  rood  upon  a  rouncy,  as  he  couthe, 
In  a  gowne  of  faldyng  to  the  kne. 
A  dagger  hangyng  on  a  laas  hadde  he 
Aboute  his  nekke  under  his  arm  adoun. 
The  hoote  somer  had  maad  his  hew  al  broun ; 
And  certeinly  he  was  a  good  felawe. 
Ful  many  a  draught  of  wyn  had  he  drawe 

3S1 — London  ale.  Tyrwhitt  has  cited  a  passage  of  an  old  writer, 
which  shews  that  London  ale  was  prized  ahove  that  of  other  parts  of  the 
country. 

396. — the  hoote  somer.  Perhaps  this  is  a  reference  to  the  summer  of 
the  year  1351,  which  was  long  remembered  as  the  dry  and  hot  summer. 
Other  allusions  in  this  general  prologue  seem  to  shew  that  Chaucer  in- 
tended to  lay  the  plot  of  his  Canterbury  pilgrimage  soon  after  this  date. 


THE    PROLOGUE.  19 

From  Burdeux-ward,  whil  that  the  chapman  sleep. 

Of  nyce  conscience  took  he  no  keep.  400 

If  that  he  foughte,  and  hadde  the  heigher  hand, 

By  water  he  sente  hem  hoom  to  every  land. 

But  of  his  craft  to  rikne  wel  the  tydes, 

His  stremes  and  his  dangers  him  hisides, 

His  herbergh  and  his  mone,  his  lodemenage, 

Ther  was  non  such  from  Hulle  to  Cartage. 

Hardy  he  was,  and  wys  to  undertake : 

With  many  a  tempest  hadde  his  herd  hen  schake. 

He  knew  wel  alle  the  havenes,  as  thei  were, 

From  Scotlond  to  the  cape  of  Fynestere,  410 

And  every  cryk  in  Bretayne  and  in  Spayne  : 

His  barge  y-clepud  was  the  Magdelayne. 

Ther  was  also  a  Doctour  of  Phisik, 
In  al  this  world  ne  was  ther  non  him  lyk 
To  speke  of  phisik  and  of  surgerye  : 
For  he  was  groundud  in  astronomye. 
He  kepte  his  pacient  a  ful  gret  del 
In  houres  by  his  magik  naturel. 
Wel  cowde  he  fortune  the  ascendent 
Of  his  ymages  for  his  pacient.  420 

He  knew  the  cause  of  every  maladye, 
Were  it  of  cold,  or  hete,  or  moyst,  or  drye, 

410. — Scotland.  Most  of  the  MSS.  have  Gotland,  the  reading  adopted 
by  Tynvhitt,  and  perhaps  the  correct  one. 

416. — Astronomye.  A  great  portion  of  the  medical  science  of  the 
middle  ages  depended  on  astrological  and  other  superstitions  observ- 
ances. 

417. — (i  Jul  gret  del.  This  is  the  reading  of  most  of  the  MSS. ;  the 
MS.  Harl.  has  wondurly  wel. 

c2 


20  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

And  where  thei  engendrid,  and  of  what  humour  ; 

He  was  a  verrey  parfight  practisour. 

The  cause  i-knowe,  and  of  his  harm  the  roote, 

Anon  he  gaf  the  syke  man  his  boote. 

Ful  redy  hadde  he  his  apotecaries, 

To  sende  him  dragges,  and  his  letuaries, 

For  eche  of  hem  made  othur  for  to  wynne : 

Here  friendschipe  nas  not  newe  to  begynne.  430 

Wei  knew  he  the  olde  Esculapius, 

And  Deiscorides,  and  eeke  Rufus ; 

Old  Ypocras,  Haly,  and  Galien ; 

Serapyon,  Razis,  and  Avycen ; 

Averrois,  Damascen,  and  Constantyn ; 

Bernard,  and  Gatisden,  and  Gilbertyn. 

Of  his  diete  mesm'able  was  he, 

For  it  was  of  no  superfluite, 

But  of  gret  norisching  and  digestible. 

His  studie  was  but  litel  on  the  Bible.  440 


431. — Wei  knew  he.  The  authors  mentioned  here  were  the  chief 
medical  text-books  of  the  middle  ages.  Rufus  was  a  Greek  physician,  of 
Ephesus,  of  the  age  of  Trajan ;  Haly,  Serapion,  and  Avicen,  were  Ara- 
bian physicians  and  astronomers  of  the  eleventh  century  ;  Rhasis  was  a 
Spanish  Arab,  of  the  tenth  century  ;  and  Averroes  was  a  Moorish  scholar, 
who  flourished  in  Morocco  iu  the  twelfth  century;  Johannes  Damasce- 
nus  was  also  an  Arabian  physician,  but  of  a  much  earlier  date;  Constan- 
tius  Afer,  a  native  of  Cartilage,  and  afterwards  a  monk  of  Monte  Cassino, 
was  one  of  the  founders  of  the  school  of  Salerno, — he  lived  at  the  end  of 
the  eleventh  century ;  Bernardus  Gordonius,  professor  of  medicine  at 
Montpellier,  appears  to  have  been  Chaucer's  contemporary  ;  John  Gatds- 
den  was  a  distinguished  physician  of  Oxford,  in  the  earlier  half  of  the 
fourteenth  century;  Gilbertyn  is  supposed  by  Warton  to  be  the  cele- 
brated Gilbert  us  Anglicus.  The  other  names  mentioned  here  are  too 
well  known  to  need  further  observation.  The  names  of  Hippocrates  and 
Galen  were,  in  the  middle  ages,  always  (or  nearly  always)  spelt  Ypocras 
and  Galienus. 


THE     PROLOGUE.  21 

Iii  sangwin  and  in  pers  he  clad  was  al, 
Lyned  with  taffata,  and  with  sendal. 
And  yit  he  was  hut  esy  in  dispence  : 
He  kepte  that  he  wan  in  pestilence. 
For  gold  in  phisik  is  a  cordial ; 
Therfore  he  lovede  gold  in  special. 

A  good  Wif  was  ther  of  hyside  Bathe, 
But  sche  was  somdel  deef,  and  that  was  skathe. 
Of  cloth-makyng  sche  hadde  such  an  haunt, 
Sche  passed  hem  of  Ypris  and  of  Gaunt.  450 

In  al  the  parisshe  wyf  ne  was  ther  noon, 
That  to  the  offryng  byfoni  hire  schulde  goon, 
And  if  ther  dide,  certeyn  so  wroth  was  sche, 
That  sche  was  thanne  out  of  alle  eharite. 
Hire  keverchefs  weren  ful  fyne  of  grounde  ; 
I  durste  swere,  they  weyghede  ten  pounde, 
That  on  the  Sonday  were  upon  hire  heed. 
Hire  hosen  were  of  fyn  scarlett  reed, 
Fid  streyte  y-teyed,  and  schoos  ful  rnoyste  and  newc. 

444. — pestilence.  An  allusion,  probably,  to  the  great  pestilences  which 
devastated  Europe  in  the  middle  of  the  fourteenth  century,  and  to  which 
we  owe  the  two  celebrated  works,  the  Decameron  of  Boccacio,  and  the 
Visions  of  Piers  Ploughman. 

449. — cloth  makyng.  The  west  of  England,  and  especially  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  Bath,  from  which  the  "  good  wif"  came,  was  celebrated,  till 
a  comparatively  recent  period,  as  the  district  of  cloth-making.  Ipres  and 
Ghent  were  the  great  clothing  marts  on  the  Continent 

456. — ten  pounde,  This  is  the  reading  of  all  the  best  MSS.  I  have 
consulted.  Tyrwhitt  has  a  pound.  It  is  a  satire  on  the  fashionable 
head  dresses  of  the  ladies  at  this  time,  which  appear  in  the  illuminations 
to  be  composed  of  large  quantities  of  heavy  wadding,  and  the  satirist  takes 
the  liberty  of  exaggerating  a  little. 

459. — rnoyste.  One  of  tbe  Cambridge  MSS.  reads  softe,  which  was, 
perhaps,  originally  a  gloss  to  moyde. 


Q2  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Bold  was  liir  face,  and  fair,  and  reed  of  hewe.        460 

Sche  was  a  worthy  womman  al  hire  lyfe, 

Housbondes  atte  chirche  dore  hadde  sche  fyfe, 

Withouten  othur  companye  in  youthe. 

But  therof  needeth  nought  to  speke  as  nouthe. 

And  thries  hadde  sche  ben  at  Jerusalem  ; 

Sche  hadde  passud  many  a  straunge  streem ; 

At  Rome  sche  hadde  ben,  and  at  Boloyne, 

In  Galice  at  sejTit  Jame,  and  at  Coloyne. 

Sche  cowde  nioche  of  wandryng  by  the  weye. 

Gattothud  was  sche,  sothly  for  to  seye.  470 

Uppon  an  amblere  esely  sche  sat, 

Wymplid  ful  wel,  and  on  hire  heed  an  hat 

As  brood  as  is  a  bocler,  or  a  targe ; 

A  foot-mantel  aboute  hire  hupes  large, 

And  on  hire  feet  a  paire  of  spores  scharpe. 

In  felawschipe  wel  cowde  lawghe  and  carpe. 

Of  remedyes  of  love  sche  knew  parchaunce, 

For  of  that  art  sche  knew  the  olde  daunce. 

A  good  man  was  ther  of  religioun, 
And  was  a  pore  Persoun  of  a  touii :  480 


462. — atle  chirche  dore.  The  priest  formerly  joined  the  hands  of 
the  couple,  and  performed  a  great  part  of  the  marriage  service,  in  the 
church  porch.  See  Warton's  History  of  English  Poetry,  ii.  201  (ed.  of 
1840). 

468. — Coloyne.  At  Cologne  the  bones  of  the  three  kings  of  the 
East  were  believed  to  be  preserved. 

477. — remedyes.  An  allusion  to  the  title  and  subject  of  Ovid's  boot, 
De  Remedio  Amoris, 

480.  Chaucer,  in  his  beautiful  character  of  the  parson,  sets  up  the 
industrious  secular  clergy  against  the  lazy,  wicked  uionks. 


THE     PBOLOGUE.  23 

But  riche  he  was  of  holy  thought  and  work. 

He  was  also  a  lemecl  man,  a  clerk, 

That  Cristes  gospel  truly  wolde  preche. 

His  parischens  devoutly  wold  he  teche. 

Benigne  he  was,  and  wondur  diligent, 

And  in  adversite  ful  pacient : 

And  such  he  was  i-proved  ofte  sithes. 

Ful  loth  were  him  to  curse  for  his  tythes ; 

But  rather  wolde  he  geven  out  of  dowte, 

Unto  his  pore  parisschens  ahoute,  490 

Of  his  offrynge,  and  eek  of  his  substaunce. 

He  cowde  in  litel  thing  han  sumsance. 

Wyd  was  his  parisch,  and  houses  fer  asondur, 

But  he  ne  lafte  not  for  reyn  ne  thondur, 

In  siknesse  ne  in  meschief  to  visite 

The  ferrest  in  his  parissche,  moche  and  lite, 

Uppon  his  feet,  and  in  his  hond  a  staf. 

This  noble  ensample  unto  his  scheep  he  gaf, 

That  ferst  he  wroughte,  and  after  that  he  taughte 

Out  of  the  gospel  he  tho  wordes  caughte,  500 

And  this  figure  he  addid  yit  therto, 

That  if  gold  ruste,  what  schulde  yren  doo? 

For  if  a  prest  be  foul,  on  whom  we  truste, 

No  wondur  is  a  lewid  man  to  ruste  : 

And  schame  it  is,  if  that  a  prest  take  kepe, 

A  schiten  schepperd  and  a  clene  schepc ; 


483. — truly.     I  have  substituted  this  word,  which  is  found  iu  most  of 
the  other  MSS.,t'or  gladly,  the  reading  of  the  MS.  Marl. 


24  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Wei  oughte  a  prest  ensample  for  to  give, 
By  his  clennesse,  how  that  his  scheep  schulde  lyve. 
He  sette  not  his  benefice  to  huyre, 
And  lefte  his  scheep  enconibred  in  the  myre,         510 
And  ran  to  Londone,  unto  seynte  Poules, 
To  seeken  him  a  chaunterie  for  soules, 
Or  with  a  brethurhede  be  withholde  : 
But  dwelte  at  hoom,  and  kepte  wel  his  folder 
So  that  the  wolf  ne  made  it  not  myscarye. 
He  was  a  schepperde  and  no  mercenarie ; 
And  though  he  holy  were,  and  vertuous, 
He  was  to  senful  man  nought  dispitous, 
Ne  of  his  speche  daungerous  ne  digne, 
'    But  in  his  teching  discret  and  beuigne.  520 

To  drawe  folk  to  heven  by  fairnesse, 
By  good  ensample,  was  his  busynesse  : 
But  it  were  eny  persone  obstinat, 
What  so  he  were  of  high  or  lowe  estat, 
Him  wolde  he  snybbe  scharply  for  the  nones. 
A  bettre  preest  I  trowe  ther  nowher  non  is. 
He  waytud  after  no  pompe  ne  reverence, 
Ne  maked  him  a  spiced  conscience, 
But  Cristes  lore,  and  his  apostles  twelve, 
He  taught,  and  ferst  he  folwed  it  himselve.  530 

With  him  ther  was  a  Ploughman,  his  brothur, 
That  hadde  i-lad  of  dong  ful  many  a  fothur. 


521. — fairnesse.     This  is  tlio  reading  of  most  of  the  MSS-      The  MS. 
Harl.  lias  clennesse,  which  seems  not  to  give  so  good  a  seuse. 


THE     PROLOGUE.       '  25 

A  trewe  swynker,  and  a  good  was  hee, 
Lyvynge  in  pees,  and  parfight  cliaritee. 
God  loved  he  best  with  al  his  trewe  herte 
At  alle  tynies,  though  liim  gained  or  smerte, 
And  thanne  his  neighebour  right  as  himselve. 
He  wolde  threisshe,  and  therto  dyke,  and  delve, 
For  Cristes  sake,  with  every  pore  wight, 
Withouten  huyre,  if  it  laye  in  his  might.  540 

His  tythes  payede  he  ful  faire  and  wel, 
Bathe  of  his  owne  swynk,  and  his  catel. 
In  a  tabbard  he  rood  upon  a  mere. 

Ther  was  also  a  reeve  and  a  mellere, 
A  sompnour  and  a  pardoner  also, 
A  maunciple,  and  my  self,  ther  was  no  mo. 

The  Mellere  was  a  stout  carl  for  the  nones, 
Ful  big  he  was  of  braun,  and  eek  of  boones ; 
That  prevede  wel,  for  over  al  ther  he  cam, 
At  wrastlynge  he  wolde  bere  awey  the  ram.  550 

He  was  schort  schuldred,  broode,  a  thikke  knarre, 
Ther  nas  no  dore  that  he  nolde  heve  of  harre, 
Or  breke  it  with  a  rennyng  with  his  heed. 
His  herd  as  ony  sowe  or  fox  was  reed, 
And  therto  brood,  as  though  it  were  a  spade. 


550. — the  ram.  "  This  was  the  usual  prize  at  wrestling-matches.  See 
below,  ver.'l  3,671  ;  and  Gamely  n,  ver.  343  and  555.  M.Paris  mentions  a 
wrestling-match  at  Westminster,  in  the  year  1222,  at  which  a  ram  was 
the  prize." — Tyrwhitt. 

552. — harre.  This  is  the  reading  of  all  the  oldest  and  best  MSS. ; 
harre,  a  later  reading,  adopted  by  Tyrwhitt,  appears  In  have  originated 
with  sonic  one  who  did  not  Know  the  meaning  of  the  other  word. 


20  THE    CANTERBURY    TALKS. 

Upon  the  cop  right  of  his  nose  he  hade 

A  werte,  and  theron  stood  a  tuft  of  heres, 

Eeede  as  the  berstles  of  a  souwes  eeres. 

His  nose-thurles  blake  were  and  wyde. 

A  swerd  and  a  bocler  baar  he  by  his  side.  56° 

His  mouth  as  wyde  was  as  a  gret  fomeys. 

He  was  a  jangler,  and  a  golyardeys, 

And  that  was  most  of  synne  and  harlotries. 

Wei  cowde  he  stele  corn,  and  tollen  thries ; 

And  yet  he  hadde  a  thombe  of  gold  parde. 

A  whight  cote  and  blewe  hood  wered  he. 

A  baggepipe  cowde  he  blowe  and  sowne, 

And  therwithal  he  brought  us  out  of  towne. 

A  gentil  Maunciple  was  ther  of  a  temple, 
Of  which  achatours  mighten  take  exemple  570 

For  to  be  wys  in  beyyng  of  vitaille. 
For  whethur  that  he  payde,  or  took  by  taille, 
Algate  he  wayted  so  in  his  acate, 
That  he  was  ay  bifora  and  in  good  state. 


564. — stele  corn.  During  tbe  middle  ages,  millers  enjoyed,  above  all 
other  tradesmen,  the  reputation  of  being  thieves  ;  and  their  depredations 
were  the  more  generally  felt,  as  people  in  all  classes  of  society  carried 
their  own  corn  to  the  mill  to  be  ground,  often  in  very  small  quantities. 

565. — a  thombe  of  gold.  "  If  tbe  allusion  be,  as  is  most  probable,  to 
the  old  proverb, — every  honest  miller  has  a  thumb  of  gold,  this  passage 
may  mean,  that  our  miller,  notwithstanding  his  thefts,  was  an  honest 
miller, — i.  e.,  as  honest  as  his  brethren." — Tyrwhitt. 

567. — a  baggepipe.  The  bagpipe  was  a  very  popular  instrument  of 
music  in  the  middle  ages,  and  ligures  in  the  illuminated  manuscripts  of 
various  countries.  In  modern  times  its  use  has  been  restricted  to  Scot- 
land (probably  because  minstrelsy  was  longer  preserved  there)  until  it 
was  looked  upon  as  the  national  music 


THE     PBOLOGUE.  ;>7 

Now  is  not  that  of  God  a  ful  fair  grace, 

That  such  a  lewed  marines  wit  schal  pace 

The  wisdom  of  an  heep  of  lernecle  men  ? 

Of  maystres  hadde  moo  than  thries  ten, 

That  were  of  lawe  expert  and  curious  : 

Of  which  ther  were  a  doseyn  in  an  hous,  580 

Worthi  to  be  stiwardes  of  rente  and  lond 

Of  any  lord  that  is  in  Engelond, 

To  make  him  lyve  by  his  propre  good, 

In  honour  detteles,  but  if  he  were  wood, 

Or  lyve  as  scarsly  as  he  can  desire  ; 

And  able  for  to  helpen  al  a  schire 

In  many  caas  that  niighte  falle  or  happe  ; 

And  yit  this  maunciple  sette  here  aller  cappe. 

The  Reeve  was  a  sklendre  colerik  man, 
His  herd  was  schave  as  neigh  as  ever  he  can.         590 
His  heer  was  by  his  eres  rounde  i-schom. 
His  top  was  dockud  lyk  a  preest  biforn. 
Ful  longe  wern  his  leggus,  and  ful  lene, 
Al  like  a  staff,  ther  was  no  calf  y-sene. 
Wei  cowde  he  kepe  a  gerner  and  a  bynne  : 
Ther  was  non  auditour  cowde  on  him  wynne. 
Wei  wiste  he  by  the  drought,  and  by  the  reyn, 
The  yeeldyng  of  liis  seed,  and  of  his  greyn. 
His  lordes  scheep,  liis  meet,  and  his  dayerie, 


588. — sette  here  aller  cappe  ;  i.  e.,  outwitted  tliem  all.     Conf.  v.  :il  15. 

591 rounde.     The  MS.  Harl.  lias  neighe,  but  all  the  other  MSS  I 

have  consulted  agree  in  the  reading  I  have  adopted  in  the  text  Tins  des- 
cription is  illustrated  by  the  cut  given  on  ]>.  13. 


28  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

His  swyn,  his  hors,  his  stoor,  and  his  pultrie,        600 
Was  holly  in  this  reeves  governynge, 
And  by  his  covenaunt  gaf  the  rekenynge, 
Syn  that  his  lord  was  twenti  yeer  of  age  ; 
Ther  couthe  noman  bringe  him  in  arrerage. 
Ther  nas  ballif,  ne  herde,  ne  other  hyne, 
That  they  ne  knewe  his  sleight  and  his  covyne  : 
They  were  adrad  of  him,  as  of  the  deth. 
His  wonyng  was  ful  fair  upon  an  heth, 
With  grene  trees  i-schadewed  was  his  place. 
He  cowde  bettre  than  his  lord  purchace.  cio 

Ful  riche  he  was  i-stored  prively, 
His  lord  wel  couthe  he  plese  subtilly, 
To  geve  and  lene  him  of  his  owne  good, 
And  have  a  thank,  a  cote,  and  eek  an  hood. 
In  youthe  he  lemed  hadde  a  good  mester : 
He  was  a  wel  good  wright,  a  carpenter. 
This  reeve  sat  upon  a  wel  good  stot, 
That  was  a  pomely  gray,  and  highte  Scot. 
A  long  surcote  of  pers  uppon  he  hadde, 
And  by  his  side  he  bar  a  rusty  bladde.  620 

Of  Northfolk  was  this  reeve  of  which  I  telle, 
Byside  a  toun  men  callen  Baldeswelle. 
Tukkud  he  was,  as  is  a  frere,  aboute, 
And  ever  he  rood  the  hynderest  of  the  route. 
A  Sompnour  was  ther  with  us  in  that  place, 


019. — pers.     The  MS.  Harl.  alone  reads  blew ;  perse  was  a  sky  blue 
colour. 

622. — Baldc&wellc .     A  parish  in  Eynford  hundred,  Norfolk. 


THE     PROLOGUE.  29 

That  hackle  a  fyr-reed  cherubyns  face, 

For  sawceflem  he  was,  with  eyghen  narwe. 

As  hoot  he  was,  and  leccherous,  as  a  sparwe, 

With  skalled  browes  blak,  aud  piled  herd  : 

Of  his  visage  children  weren  sore  aferd.  630 

Ther  nas  quyksilver,  litarge,  ne  brimstone, 

Boras,  ceruce,  ne  oille  of  tartre  noon, 

Ne  oynement  that  wolde  dense  and  byte, 

That  him  might  helpen  of  his  whelkes  white, 

Ne  of  the  knobbes  sittyng  on  his  cheekes, 

Wei  loved  he  garleek,  oynouns,  and  ek  leekes, 

And  for  to  drinke  strong  wyn  reed  as  blood. 

Thanne  wolde  he  speke,  and  crye  as  he  were  wood. 

And  whan  that  he  wel  dronken  hadde  the  wyn, 

Than  wolde  he  speke  no  word  but  Latyn.  640 

A  fewe  termes  hadde  he,  tuo  or  thre, 

That  he  hadde  lemed  out  of  som  decree ; 

No  wondur  is,  he  herde  it  al  the  day, 

And  eek  ye  knowe  wel,  how  that  a  jay 

Can  clepe  Watte,  as  wel  as  can  the  pope. 

But  who  so  wolde  in  othur  thing  him  grope, 

Thanne  hadde  he  spent  al  his  philosophic 

Ay,  Questio  quid  juris,  wolde  he  crye. 


626. — cherubyns  fare.  H.  Stephens,  Apol.  Herod.,  i.  30,  quotes  the 
same  thought  from  a  French  epigram, — 

"  Nos  grands  docteurs  dit  cherubin  visage." 

618. — Questiu  quid  juris.  "  This  kind  of  question  occurs  frequently 
in  Ralph  do  Hengham.  After  having  stated  a  case,  he  adds,  quid  juris  ! 
and  then  proceeds  to  give  the  answer  to  it.  SeoHeng.  Mag.,  c.  xi.  Esto 
autem  quod  reus  nullo  modo  vencrit  ad  hunc  diem,  quid  juris?  &c.  See 
also  c.  xii." — Tyrwhilt. 


30  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

He  was  a  gentil  harlot  and  a  kynde  ; 

A  bettre  felaw  schulde  men  nowher  fynde.  650 

He  wolde  suffre  for  a  quart  of  wyn, 

A  good  felawe  to  han  his  concubyn 

A  twelve  moneth,  and  excuse  him  atte  fulle. 

And  prively  a  fynch  eek  cowde  he  pulle. 

And  if  he  fond  owher  a  good  felawe, 

He  wolde  teche  him  to  have  non  awe 

In  such  a  caas  of  the  archedeknes  curs  ; 

But  if  a  mannes  soule  were  in  his  purs  ; 

For  in  his  purs  he  scholde  punyssched  be. 

"  Purs  is  the  ercedeknes  helle,"  quod  he.  660 

But  wel  I  woot  he  lyeth  right  in  dede : 

Of  cursyng  oweth  ech  gulty  man  to  drede. 

For  curs  wol  slee  right  as  assoillyng  saveth, 

And  also  ware  him  of  a  significavit. 

In  daunger  he  hadde  at  his  owne  assise 

The  yonge  gurles  of  the  diocise, 

And  knew  here  counseil,  and  was  al  here  red. 

A  garland  had  he  set  upon  his  heed, 

As  gret  as  it  were  for  an  ale-stake  : 


649. — harlot.  Chaucer  gives  us  here  an  excellent  picture  of  the  class 
of  society  to  which  this  name  was  applied  in  the  middle  ages.  See  the 
glossary. 

661. — significavit.  "  The  writ  de  excommunicato  capiendo,  commonly 
called  a  significavit,  from  the  beginning  of  the  writ,  which  is  as  follows : 
Rex  vicecomili  L.  salutem.  Significavit  nobis  venerabilis  pater  H.  L., 
episcopus,  &c.     Cod.  Jur.  Ecc  ,  p.  1054." — Tyrwhitt. 

665. — in  daunger.  The  old  meaning  of  the  word  danger  was  jurisdic- 
tion, or  dominion  whereby  persons  were  liable  to  fine  for  certain  offences 
to  him  in  whose  danger  they  were.  Most  of  the  MSS.  have  gise  instead 
of  assise. 


THE     PROLOGUE.  31 

A  bokeler  had  he  maad  him  of  a  cake.  670 

With  him  ther  rood  a  gentil  Pardoner 
Of  Rouncival,  his  frend  and  his  comper, 
That  streyt  was  comen  from  the  court  ef  Rome. 
Ful  lowde  he  sang,  Come  hider,  love,  to  me. 
This  sompnour  bar  to  him  a  stif  burdoun, 
Was  neve  re  trompe  of  half  so  gret  a  soun. 
This  pardoner  hadde  heer  as  yelwe  as  wex, 
But  smothe  it  heng,  as  cloth  a  strike  of  flex  : 
By  iinces  hynge  his  lokkes  that  he  hadde, 
And  therwith  he  his  schuldres  overspradde.  680 

Ful  thenne  it  lay,  by  culpons  on  and  oon, 
But  hood,  for  jolitee,  ne  wered  he  noon, 
For  it  was  trussud  up  in  his  walet. 
Him  thought  he  rood  al  of  the  newe  get, 
Dischevele,  sauf  his  cappe,  he  rood  al  bare. 
Suche  glaryng  eyghen  hadde  he,  as  an  hare. 
A  vernicle  hadde  he  sowed  on  his  cappe. 
His  walet  lay  byfom  him  in  his  lappe, 
Bret  fid  of  pardoun  come  from  Rome  al  hoot. 
A  voys  he  hadde,  as  smale  as  eny  goot.  690 

No  berd  ne  hadde  he,  ne  never  scholde  have, 


074. — dime  hider,  love,  to  me.  Probably  tlie  burden  of  a  popular 
song. 

675. — bar... a  stif  burdoun.  "Sang  the  bass.  See  ver.  4163,  and 
Ducange  in  v.  Burdo." — Tyrwhilt. 

(584. — newe  get.  New  fashion.  Tyrwhitt  has  illustrated  this  phrase 
bj  a  passage  from  Occleve's  poem,  De  regimine  principis, — 

"  Also  ther  is  another  newe  gette, 
Al  foule  waste  of  cloth  and  cxcessif." 


32  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

As  smothe  it  was  as  it  ware  late  i-schave ; 

I  trowe  he  were  a  geldyng  or  a  mare. 

But  of  his  craft,  fro  Berwyk  unto  Ware, 

Ne  was  ther  such  another  pardoner. 

For  in  his  male  he  hadde  a  pilwebeer, 

Which,  that  he  saide,  was  oure  lady  veyl : 

He  seide,  he  hadde  a  gobet  of  the  seyl 

That  seynt  Petur  hadde,  whan  that  he  wente 

Uppon  the  see,  till  Jhesu  Crist  him  hente.  7°° 

He  hadde  a  cros  of  latoun  ful  of  stones, 

And  in  a  glas  he  hadde  pigges  bones. 

But  with  thise  reliques,  whanne  that  he  fand 

A  pore  persoun  dwellyng  uppon  land, 

Upon  a  day  he  gat  him  more  moneye 

Than  that  the  persoun  gat  in  monthes  tweye. 

And  thus  with  feyned  flaterie  and  japes, 

He  made  the  persoun,  and  the  poeple,  his  apes. 

But  trewely  to  tellen  atte  laste, 

He  was  in  churche  a  noble  ecclesiaste.  7l<> 

Wei  cowde  he  rede  a  lessoun  or  a  storye, 

But  altherbest  he  sang  an  offertorie : 

For  wel  wyst  he,  whan  that  song  was  songe, 

He  moste  preche,  and  wel  affyle  his  tunge, 

To  wynne  silver,  as  he  right  wel  cowde : 

Therfore  he  sang  ful  meriely  and  lowcle. 

Now  have  I  told  you  schortly  in  a  clause, 
Thestat,  tharray^the  nombre,  and  eek  the  cause 
Why  that  assembled  was  this  companye 
In  Southwerk  at  this  gentil  ostelrie,  720 


THE      PROLOGUE.  '■'■"• 

That  highte  the  Tabbard,  faste  by  the  Belle. 

But  now  is  tyme  to  yow  for  to  telle 

How  that  we  bare  us  in  that  ilke  night, 

AVI um  we  were  in  that  ostelrie  alight; 

And  aftur  wol  I  telle  of  oure  viage, 

And  al  the  remenaunt  of  oure  pilgrimage.. 

But  ferst  I  pray  you  of  your  curtesie, 
That  ye  ne  rette  it  nat  my  vilanye, 
Though  that  I  speke  al  pleyn  in  this  matere, 
To  telle  you  here  wordes  and  here  cheere;  ~;!" 

Ne  though  I  speke  here  wordes  propurly. 
For  this  ye  knowen  al  so  wel  as  I, 
Who  so  schal  telle  a  tale  aftur  a  man, 
He  moste  reherce,  as  neigh  as  ever  he  can, 
Every  word,  if  it  he  in  his  charge, 
Al  speke  he  never  so  rudely  ne  large; 
Or  elles  he  moot  telle  his  tale  untrewe, 
Or  feyne  thing,  or  fynde  wordes  newe. 
He  may  not  spare,  though  he  were  his  brothur; 
He  moste  as  wel  sey  oo  word,  as  anothur.  740 

Crist  spak  himself  fu]  broode  inholy  writ, 
And  wel  ye  woot  no  vilanye  is  it. 
Eke  Plato  seith,  who  so  that  can  him  rede, 
The  wordes  mot  be  cosyn  to  the  dede. 
Also  I  pray  you  to  forgeve  it  me, 


721. — the  Belle.     Slowe  mentions  an  in imed  the   Bull  as  being 

mar  the  Tabard,  but  I  have  found  no  mi  ntion  of  the  Bell 

7  13. — Plato.  Tyrwbitt  thinks  that  Chaucer  took  this  saying  of  Plato 
from  Boethius,  iii.  ///•.  12. 

1) 


34  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Al  have  I  folk  nat  set  in  here  degre 
Here  in  this  tale,  as  that  tliei  schulde  stonde : 
My  witt  is  schorte,  ye  may  wel  undurstonde. 
Greet  cheere  made  oure  ost  ns  everichon, 
And  to  the  souper  sette  he  ns  anon:  ?50 

And  served  us  with  vitaille  atte  beste. 
Strong  was  the  wyn,  and  wel  to  drynke  us  leste. 
A  semely  man  oure  ooste  was  withalle 
For  to  ban  been  a  marchal  in  an  halle ; 
A  large  man  was  he  with  eyghen  stepe, 
A  fairere  burgeys  is  tber  noon  in  Chepe : 
Bold  of  his  speche,  and  wys  and  well  i-taught, 
And  of  manhede  lakkede  he  right  naught. 
Eke  therto  he  was  right  a  mery  man, 
And  after  soper  playen  he  bygan,  760 

And  spak  of  myrthe  among  othur  thinges, 
Whan  that  we  hadde  maad  oure  rekenynges; 
And  sayde  thus;  "  Lo,  lordynges,  trewely 
Ye  ben  to  me  right  welcome  hertily: 
For  by  my  trouthe,  if  that  I  schal  not  lye, 
I  ne  saugh  this  yeer  so  mery  a  companye 
At  oones  in  this  herbergh,  as  is  now. 
Fayn  wold  I  do  yow  merthe,  wiste  I  how. 
And  of  a  merthe  I  am  right  now  bythought, 
To  doon  you  eese,  and  it  schal  coste  nought.  "*o 


7 18. — H-hortc.  This  is  the  reading  in  which  the  MSS  generally  agree, 
ami  it  seems  the  best  ;  the  MS.  Harl.  reads  ihi/rine. 

756. — Chepe.  Cheapside  was,  in  the  middle  ages,  occupied  by  the 
wealthiest  and  most  substantial  citizens  of  London. 


THE     PROLOGUE,  35 

Ye  goon  to  Caunturbury;  God  you  speede, 
The  blisful  martir  quyte  you  youre  meede ! 
And  wel  I  woot,  as  ye  gon  by  th.e  weye, 
Ye  scbapen  yow  to  talken  and  to  \  leye : 
For  trewely  comfort. ne  merthe  is  noon, 
To  ryde  by  the  weye  domb  as  a  stoon : 
And  therfore  wol  I  make  you  disport, 
As  I  seyde  erst,  and  do  you  som  confort. 
And  if  yow  liketh  alle  by  oon  assent 
Now  for  to  standen  at  my  juggement:  "80 

And  for  to  werken  as  I  schal  you  seye, 
To  morwe,  whan  ye  riden  by  the  weye, 
Now  by  my  fadres  soule  that  is  deed, 
But  ye  be  merye,  smyteth  of  myn  heed. 
Hold  up  youre  bond  withoute  more  speche." 
Oure  counseil  was  not  longe  for  to  seche: 
Us  thoughte  it  uas  nat  worth  to  make  it  wys, 
And  grauuted  him  withoute  more  avys, 
And  bad  him  seie  his  verdite,  as  him  leste. 
'  Lordynges,"  quoth  he,  "  now  herkenetli  for  tbe  beste; 
But  taketh  not,  I  pray  you,  in  disdayn; 
This  is  the  poynt,  to  speken  schort  and  playn, 
That  ech  of  yow  to  schorte  with  youre  weie, 
In  this  viage,  schal  telle  tales  tweye, 
To  Caunturburi-ward,  1  mene  it  so, 
And  hom-ward  he  schal  tellen  othur  tuo, 
Of  aventures  thai  ther  ban  bifalle. 
And  which  of  yow  that  bereth  him  best  of  alle, 
That  is  to  seye,  that  telletb  in  this  caas 

d2 


36  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Tales  of  best  sentence  and  of  solas,  800 

Schal  ban  a  soper  at  your  altber  cost 

Here  in  tliis  place  sittynge  by  this  post, 

Wban  that  we  comen  ageyn  from  Canturbery. 

And  for  to  make  you  the  more  mery, 

I  wol  myselven  gladly  with  you  ryde, 

Right  at  myn  owen  cost,  and  be  youre  gyde. 

And  who  so  wole  my  juggement  withseie, 

Schal  paye  for  al  we  spenden  by  the  weye. 

And  if  ye  vouchesauf  that  it  be  so, 

Telle  me  anoon,  withouten  wordes  moo,  810 

And  I  wole  erely  schappe  me  therfore." 

Tbis  thing  was  graunted,  and  oure  othus  swore 

With  ful  glad  herte,  and  prayden  him  also, 

That  he  wolde  vouchesauf  for  to  doon  so, 

And  that  he  wolde  ben  oure  governour, 

And  of  oure  tales  jugge  and  reportour, 

And  sette  a  souper  at  a  certeyn  prys ; 

And  we  wolde  rewled  be  at  his  devys, 

In  heygh  and  lowe :  and  thus  by  oon  assent, 

We  been  acorded  to  his  juggement.  820 

And  therapon  the  wyn  was  fet  anoon ; 

We  dronken,  and  to  reste  wente  echoon, 

Withouten  eny  lengere  taryinge. 

A  morwe  whan  that  the  day  bigan  to  sprynge, 

Up  roos  oure  ost,  and  was  oure  althur  cok, 

And  gaderud  us  togider  alle  in  a  flok, 

And  forth  we  riden  a  litel  more  than  paas, 

Unto  the  waterynge  of  seint  Thomas; 


THE    PROLOGUE.  37 

And  there  oure  ost  bigan  his  hors  areste, 
And  seyde ;  "  Lordus,  herkeneth  if  yow  leste.       830 
Ye  woot  youre  forward,  and  I  it  you  recorde. 
If  eve-song  and  morwe-song  acorde, 
Let  se  now  who  schal  telle  ferst  a  tale. 
As  evere  I  moote  drinke  wyn  or  ale, 
Who  so  be  rebel  to  my  juggement, 
Schal  paye  for  al  that  by  the  weye  is  spent. 
Now  draweth  cut,  er  that  we  forther  twynne ; 
Which  that  hath  the  schortest  schal  bygynne." 
"  Sire  knight,"  quoth  he,  "  maister  and  my  lord, 
Now  draweth  cut,  for  that  is  myn  acord.  840 

Cometh  ner,  quoth  he,  my  lady  prioresse ; 
And  ye,  sir  clerk,  lat  be  your  schamfastnesse, 
Ne  studieth  nat;  ley  hand  to,  every  man." 

Anon  to  drawen  every  wight  bigan, 
And  schortly  for  to  tellen  as  it  was, 
Were  it  by  aventure,  or  sort,  or  cas, 
The  soth  is  this,  the  fil  to  the  knight, 
Of  which  ful  glad  and  blithe  was  every  wight ; 
And  telle  he  moste  his  tale  as  was  resoun, 
By  forward  and  by  composicioun,  850 

As  ye  han  herd ;  what  needeth  worcles  moo  ? 
And  whan  this  goode  man  seigh  that  it  was  so, 
As  he  that  wys  was  and  obedient 

828. — waterynge  of  seint  Thomas.  The  watering  of  St.  Thomas  was 
at  the  second  milestone  on  the  old  Canterbury  road.  It  is  mentioned 
not  (infrequently  in  the  early  dramatists. 

837. — draweth  cut.  Froissart  terms  this  method  of  drawing  lot3  lirer 
a  la  tongue  paille. 


38  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

To  kepe  his  forward  by  his  fre  assent, 
He  seycle ;  "  Syn  I  schal  bygynne  the  game, 
What,  welcome  be  thou  cut,  a  Goddus  name  ! 
Now  lat  us  ryde,  and  herkneth  what  I  seye." 

And  with  that  word  we  riden  forth  oure  weye ; 
And  he  bigan  with  light  a  merie  chere, 
His  tale,  and  seide  right  in  this  manere.  860 


THE    KN'IGHTES    TALE. 

Whilom,  as  olde  stories  tellen  us, 
Ther  was  a  duk  that  highte  Theseus. 
Of  Athenes  he  was  lord  and  governour, 
And  hi  his  tyme  swich  a  conquerour, 
That  gretter  was  ther  non  under  the  sonne. 
Ful  many  a  riche  contre  hadde  he  wonne  : 
That  with  his  wisdam  and  his  chivalrie 
He  conquered  al  the  regne  of  Femynye, 
That  whilom  was  i-cleped  Cithea ; 
And  weddede  the  queen  Ipolita,  870 


860. — right  in  this  manere.  Tyrwhitt  reads  as  ye  shut  here,  and 
inserts  anon  after  tale. 

The  Knightes  Tale.  This  story  is  taken  from  the  Theseida  of  Boc- 
cacio,  which  was  translated  also  into  French  verse ;  hut  whether  Chaucer 
used  the  Italian  or  the  French  is  not  certain,  as  I  have  not  been  able  to 
compare  Chaucer  with  the  French,  The  English  story  differs  in  some 
parts  considerably,  and  is  very  much  abbreviated,  from  the  poem  of  Boc- 
cacio.  The  extracts  given  in  the  following  notes  are  repeated  from 
Tyrwhitt.     See  Tyrwhitt's  Introd.  and  Warton's  His.  of  Eng.  Poet. 

868. — Femynye,  A  medieval  name  for  the  kingdom  of  the  Amazons. 
Gower  (Conf  Amant.)  terms  Penthesilea  queen  of  Feminee.  Cithea  is  of 
course  a  corruption  of  Scythia. 


THE   KNIGHTES    TALE.  39 

And  brought  hire  hoom  with  him  in  his  contre 
With  moche  glorie  and  gret  solempnite, 
And  eek  hire  yonge  suster  Eruelye. 
And  thus  with  victorie  and  with  melodye 
Lete  I  this  noble  duk  to  Athenes  ryde, 
And  al  his  ost,  in  armes  him  biside. 
And  certes,  if  it  nere  to  long  to  heere, 
I  wolde  ban  told  yow  fully  the  manere, 
How  wonnen  was  the  regne  of  Femenye, 
By  Theseus,  and  by  his  chivalrye  ;  88° 

And  of  the  grete  bataille  for  the  nones 
Bytwix  Athenes  and  the  Amazones  ; 
And  how  asegid  was  Ypolita 
The  faire  hardy  quyen  of  Cithea ; 
And  of  the  feste  that  was  at  lure  weddynge, 
And  of  the  tempest  at  hire  boom  comynge, 
But  al  that  thing  I  most  as  now  forbere. 
I  have,  God  wot,  a  large  feeld  to  ere  ; 
And  wayke  ben  the  oxen  in  my  plough. 
The  remenaunt  of  the  tale  is  long  inoughj  89° 

I  wol  not  lette  eek  non  of  at  this  rowte. 
L;it  every  felawe  telle  his  tale  aboute, 
And  lat  see  now  who  schal  the  soper  wynne. 
And  titer  I  lafte,  I  wolde  agayn  begynne. 
This  duk,  of  whom  I  make  mencioun, 
Whan  he  was  comen  almost  unto  the  toun, 


ssa.—  trmpc.st.  Tyruhitt  has  temple,  1  >n(  I  think  his  reasons  for  tliis 
reading  are  not  sufficiently  weighty  to  authorize  a  departure  from  the 
text  of  the  .MS.  Hart,  supported,  as  it  is,  by  most  of  the  good  MSS. 


HI  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

In  al  his  wele  and  in  his  moste  pryde, 
He  was  war,  as  he  cast  his  eyghe  aside,  « 
Wher  that  ther  kneled  in  the  hye  weye 
A  companye  of  ladies,  tweye  and  tweye,  900 

Ech  after  other,  clad  in  clothes  blake  : 
But  such  a  cry  and  such  a  woo  they  make, 
That  in  this  world  nys  creature  lyvynge, 
That  herde  such  another  waymentynge. 
And  of  that  cry  ne  wolde  they  never  stenten, 
Til  they  the  reynes  of  his  hridel  henten. 
"  What  folk  be  ye  that  at  myn  horn  comynge 
Pertourben  so  my  feste  with  cryenge  ?  " 
Quod  Theseus,  "  have  ye  so  gret  envye 
Of  myn  honour,  that  thus  compleyne  and  crie?      910 
Or  who  hath  yow  misboden,  or  offendid? 
And  telleth  me  if  it  may  ben  amendid ; 
And  why  that  ye  ben  clad  thus  al  in  blak  ?  " 

The  oldest  lady  of  hem  alle  spak, 
Whan  sche  had  swowned  with  a  dedly  chere, 
That  it  was  routhe  for  to  seen  or  heere  ; 
And  seyde  ;  "  Lord,  to  whom  fortune  hath  geven 
Victorie,  and  as  a  conquerour  lyven, 
Nought  greveth  us  youre  glorie  and  honour ; 
But  we  beseken  mercy  and  socour.  920 

Have  mercy  on  oure  woo  and  oure  distresse. 
Som  drope  of  pitee,  thurgli  youre  gentilnesse, 
Uppon  us  wrecchede  wommen  lat  thou  falle. 
For  certus,  lord,  ther  nys  noon  of  us  alle, 
That  sche  nath  ben  a  duchesse  or  a  queene  ; 


THE     KNIGHTES    TALE.  il 

Now  be  we  caytifs,  as  it  is  well  seene : 
Thanked  be  fortune,  and  hire  false  wheel, 
That  noon  estat  asaureth  to  ben  weel 
And  certus,  lord,  to  abiden  youre  presence 
Here  in  the  temple  of  the  gocldesse  Clemence       ^30 
We  ban  ben  waytynge  al  this  fourtenight : 
Now  helpe  us,  lord,  syn  it  is  in  thy  might. 
I  wrecehe,  which  that  wepe  and  way  lie  thus, 
Was  whilom  wyf  to  kyng  Capaneus, 
That  starf  at  Thebes,  cursed  be  that  day  : 
And  alle  we  that  ben  in  this  array, 
And  maken  alle  this  lamentacioun, 
We  leften  alle  oure  housbondes  at  the  toun, 
Whil  that  the  sege  ther  aboute  lay.  94° 

And  yet  the  olde  Creon,  welaway  ! 
That  lord  is  now  of  Thebes  the  citee, 
Fulfilde  of  ire  and  of  inkpiite, 
He  for  despyt,  and  for  his  tyrannye, 
To  do  the  deede  bodyes  vilonye, 
< >f  alle  oure  lordes,  which  that  ben  i-slawe, 
Bath  alle  the  bodies  on  an  heep  y-drawe, 
And  wol  not  suftren  liem  by  noon  assent 
Nother  to  ben  y-buried  nor  i-brent, 
But  maketh  houndes  ete  hem  in  despite.  ' 
And  with  that  word,  withoute  more  respite,  950 

They  fillen  gruf,  and  criden  pitously, 
•  Eave  on  as  wrecched  wommen  som  mercy, 
And  Lai  oure  sorwe  sj  aken  in  thyn  herte. 
This  gentil  duke  doun  from  his  courser  sterfo 


42  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

With  herte  pitous,  whan  he  herde  hem  speke. 

Hhn  thoughte  that  his  herte  wohle  breke, 

Whan  he  seyk  hem  so  piteous  and  so  roaat, 

That  whilom  weren  of  so  gret  estat. 

And  in  his  armes  he  hem  alle  up  hente, 

And  hem  conforteth  in  ful  good  entente  ;  960 

And  swor  his  oth,  as  he  was  trewe  knight, 

He  wolde  do  so  ferforthly  his  might 

Upon  the  tyraunt  Creon  hem  to  wreke, 

That  all  the  poeple  of  Grece  seholde  speke 

How  Creon  was  of  Theseus  y-served, 

As  he  that  hath  bis  deth  right  wel  deserved. 

And  right  anoon,  withoute  eny  aboocl, 

His  baner  he  desplayeth,  and  forth  rood 

To  Thebes-ward,  and  al  his  oost  bysyde  ; 

No  ner  Athenes  wolde  he  go  ne  ryde,  970 

Ne  take  his  eese  fully  half  a  day, 

But  onward  on  his  way  that  nyght  he  lay  ; 

And  sente  anoon  Ypolita  the  queene, 

And  Emelye  hir  yonge  suster  schene, 

Unto  the  toun  of  Athenes  to  dwelle  : 

And  forth  he  ryt ;  ther  is  no  more  to  telle. 

The  reede  statue  of  Mars  with  spere  and  targe 
So  schyneth  in  his  white  baner  large, 
That  alle  the  feeldes  gliteren  up  and  douu : 
And  by  his  baner  was  bom  his  pynoun  980 

Of  gold  ful  riche,  in  which  ther  was  i-bete 
The  Minatour  which  that  he  slough  in  Crete. 
Thus  ryt  this  duk,  thus  ryt  this  conquerour, 
\nd  in  his  oost  of  chevalrie  the  flour, 


THE    KNIGHTES    TALE.  43 

Til  that  he  cam  to  Thebes,  and  alighte 

Fayre  in  a  feeld  wher  as  he  thoughte  to  fighte. 

But  schortly  for  to  speken  of  this  thing, 

With  Creon,  which  that  was  of  Thebes  kyng, 

He  faught,  and  slough  him  manly  as  a  knight 

In  pleyn  bataille,  and  putte  his  folk  to  flight ;        9()0 

And  by  assaut  he  wan  the  cite  aftur, 

And  rente  doun  bothe  wal,  and  sparre,  and  raftur  : 

And  to  the  ladies  he  restored  agayn 

The  bones  of  here  housbondes  that  were  slayn, 

To  do  exequies,  as  was  tho  the  gyse. 

But  it  were  al  to  long  for  to  devyse 

The  grete  clamour,  and  the  waymentynge, 

Which  that  the  laches  made  at  the  brennynge 

Of  the  bodyes,  and  the  grete  honour, 

That  Theseus  the  noble  conquerour  100° 

Doth  to  the  ladyes,  whan  they  from  him  wente  : 

But  schortly  for  to  telle  is  myn  entente. 

Whan  that  this  worthy  duk,  this  Theseus, 

Hath  Creon  slayn,  and  Thebes  wonne  thus, 

Stille  in  the  feelde  he  took  al  night  his  reste, 

And  dide  with  al  the  contre  as  him  leste. 

To  ransake  in  the  cas  of  bodyes  dede 
Hem  for  to  streepe  of  herneys  and  of  wede, 
The  pilours  diden  businesse  and  cure, 
After  the  bataile  and  discomfiture.  101° 

And  so  byfil,  that  in  the  cas  thei  founde, 

1007. — cas.    So  the  other  best  MSS.     Tyrwhitt  has  substituted  tax,  a 
heap. 


i  I  THE    CANTERBURY    TARES. 

Thurgh  girt  with  many  a  grevous  Itlocly  wounde; 

Two  yonge  knightes  liggyng  by  and  by, 

Bothe  in  oon  armes  clad  ful  richely : 

Of  wbiche  two,  Avcite  Light  that  oon, 

And  that  othur  knight  hight  Palamon. 

Nat  fully  quyk,  we  fully  deed  they  were, 

But  by  here  coote  armure,  and  by  here  gere, 

Heraudes  knewe  hem  wel  in  special, 

As  they  that  weren  of  the  blood  real  10'20 

Of  Thebes,  and  of  sistren  tuo  i-born. 

Out  of  the  chaas  the  pilours  han  hem  torn, 

And  han  hem  caried  softe  unto  the  tente 

Of  Theseus,  and  ful  sone  he  hem  sente 

Tathenes,  for  to  dwellen  in  prisoun 

Perpetuelly,  he  wolde  no  raunceoun. 

And  this  duk  whan  he  hadde  thus  i-doon, 

He  took  his  host,  and  hom  he  ryt  anoon 

With  laurer  crowned  as  a  conquerour ; 

And  there  he  lyveth  in  joye  and  in  honour  1030 

Terme  of  his  lyf ;  what  wolle  ye  wordes  moo  ? 

And  in  a  tour,  in  angwische  and  in  woo, 

This  Palamon,  and  his  felawe  Arcite, 

For  evermo,  ther  may  no  gold  hem  quyte. 

This  passeth  yeer  by  yeer,  and  day  by  day, 

Till  it  fel  oones  in  a  morwe  of  May 

That  Emelie,  that  fairer  was  to  seene 

Than  is  the  lilie  on  hire  stalkes  grene, 

And  fresscher  than  the  May  with  floures  newe  ; 

For  with  the  rose  colour  strof  hire  hewe,  104C 


THE    KNIGHTES    TALE.  4-5 

I  not  which  was  the  fyner  of  hem  two. 

Er  it  was  clay,  as  sche  was  wont  to  do, 

Sche  was  arisen,  and  al  redy  dight. 

For  May  wTole  have  no  sloggardye  a  night, 

The  sesoun  priketh  every  gentil  herte, 

And  maketh  him  out  of  his  sleepe  sterte, 

And  seith,   "  Arys,  and  do  thin  observance." 

This  maked  Emerye  han  remembrance 

To  do  honour  to  May,  and  for  to  ryse. 

I-clothed  was  sche  fressh  for  to  devyse.  1050 

Hire  yolwe  heer  was  browdid  in  a  tresse, 

Byhynde  liire  bak,  a  yerde  long  I  gesse. 

And  in  the  gardyn  at  the  sonne  upriste 

Sche  walketh  up  and  doun  wher  as  hire  liste. 

Sche  gadereth  floures,  partye  whyte  and  reede, 

To  make  a  certeyn  gerland  for  hire  heede, 

And  as  an  aungel  hevenly  sche  song. 

The  grete  tour,  that  was  so  thikke  and  strong, 

Which  of  the  castel  was  the  cheef  dongeoun, 

(Ther  as  this  knightes  weren  in  prisoun,  1060 


10-19. — to  do  honour  to  May.  The  curly  English  poets  are  full  of 
allusions  to  the  popular  reverence  paid  to  (lie  month  of  May,  derived  from 
the  pagan  ages  of  our  forefathers.  Traces  of  these  superstitions  still 
remain  in  the  popular  custom  in  different  parts  of  the  country  of  going  a 
Maying  on  the  morning  of  the  first  day  of  the  month.  Such  customs  are 
repeatedly  alluded  to  in  Chaucer. 

1059. — dongeoun.  The  dongeon  was  the  grand  tower  of  the  earlier 
castles,  and  hcneath  it,  under  ground,  was  the  prison.  As  the  castles 
were  enlarged,  the  dongeon  or  keep  tower,  being  the  strongest  part  of 
the  fortress,  was  frequently  made  the  residence  of  prisoners  of  higher 
rank,  who  were  not  thrown  into  the  subterranean  vaults.  Hence  the 
modern  use  of  the  word  dungeon, 


L6  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Of  which  I  tolde  yow,  and  telle  schal) 

Was  evene  joynyng  to  the  gardeyn  wal, 

Ther  as  this  Emely  hadde  hire  pleyyng. 

Bright  was  the  sonue,  and  cleer  that  morwenynge, 

And  Palamon,  this  woful  prisoner, 

As  was  his  wone,  by  leve  of  his  gayler 

Was  risen,  and  romed  in  a  chambre  on  heigh, 

In  which  he  al  the  noble  cite  seigb, 

And  eek  the  gardeyn,  ful  of  braunches  grene, 

Ther  as  the  fresshe  Emelye  the  scheene  1070 

Was  in  hire  walk,  and  romed  up  and  doun. 

This  sorweful  prisoner,  this  Palamon, 

Gooth  in  the  chambre  romyng  to  and  fro, 

And  to  himself  compleynyng  of  his  woo  : 

That  he  was  bom,  ful  ofte  he  seyd,  alas  ! 

And  so  byfel,  by  aventure  or  cas, 

That  thurgh  a  wyndow  thikke  and  many  a  barre 

Of  iren  greet,  and  squar  as  eny  sparre, 

He  cast  his  eyen  upon  Emelya, 

And  therwithal  he  bleynte  and  cryed,  a !  1030 

As  that  he  stongen  were  unto  the  herte. 

And  with  that  crye  Arcite  anon  up  sterte, 

And  seyde,  "  Cosyn  myn,  what  eyleth  the, 

That  art  so  pale  and  deedly  for  to  see  ? 

Why  crydestow  ?  who  hath  the  doon  offence  ? 

For  Goddes  love,  tak  al  in  pacience 

Oure  prisoun,  for  it  may  non  othir  be. 

Fortune  hath  geven  us  this  adversite. 

Som  wikke  aspect  or  disposicioun 


THE    KNIGHTES    TALE.  47 

Of  Saturne,  by  sum  constellacioun,  1090 

Hath  geven  us  this,  although  we  hadde  it  sworn  ; 
So  stood  the  heven  whan  that  we  were  born, 
We  moste  endure  it :  this  is  the  schort  and  pleyn." 
This  Palanion  answered,  and  seyde  ageyn ; 
"  Cosyn,  for  sothe  of  this  opynyoun 
Tliou  hast  a  veyn  ymaginacioun. 
This  prisoun  caused  me  not  for  to  crye. 
But  I  was  hurt  right  now  thurgh  myn  yhe 
Into  myn  herte,  that  wol  my  bane  be. 
The  fairnesse  of  the  lady  that  I  see  11 00 

Yonde  in  the  gardyn  rome  to  and  fro, 
Is  cause  of  my  cryyng  and  my  wo. 
I  not  whethur  sche  be  womman  or  goddesse ; 
But  Venus  is  it,  sothly,  as  I  gesse." 
And  therwithal  on  knees  adoun  he  fil, 
And  seyde  :  "  Venus,  if  it  be  youre  wil 
Yow  in  this  gardyn  thus  to  transfigure, 
Bifom  me  sorwful  wrecched  creature, 
Out  of  this  prisoun  help  that  we  may  scape. 
And  if  so  be  oure  destine  be  schape  mo 

By  eteme  word  to  deyen  in  prisoun, 
Of  oure  lynage  haveth  sum  compassioun, 
That  is  so  lowe  y-brought  by  tyrannye." 
And  with  that  word  Arcite  gan  espye 


1090. — Saturne.  According  to  tl>"  <>1<1  astrological  Bysti  m,  iliis  wns  a 
very  uupropitious  star  to  be  born  under.  It  may  be  observed,  lli;il  in 
the  presi  nt  story  there  is  ;>  constant  allusion  t<>  medieval  astrology,  which 
could  not  be  fnllv  illustrated  without  lone  iioIpn. 


48  mi:  Canterbury  tales. 

Wher  as  this  lady  romed  to  and  fro. 
And  with  that  sight  hire  beaute  hurt  him  so, 
That  if  that  Palamon  was  wounded  sore, 
Arcite  is  hurt  as  moche  as  he,  or  more. 
And  with  a  sigh  he  seyde  pitously  : 

"  The  freissche  beaute  sleeth  me  sodeynly  U20 

Of  hir  that  rometh  yonder  in  the  place  ; 
And  but  I  have  hir  mercy  and  hir  grace, 
That  I  may  see  hir  atte  leste  weye, 
I  nam  but  deed;  ther  nys  no  more  to  seye. 
This  Palamon,  whan  he  tho  wordes  herde, 
Dispitously  he  loked,  and  answerde  : 

"  Whether  seistow  in  ernest  or  in  pley  ?  " 

"  Nay,"  quoth  Arcite,  "in  ernest,  in  good  fey. 
God  helpe  me  so,  me  lust  ful  evele  pleye." 
This  Palamon  gan  knytte  his  browes  tweye:         H30 

"  It  nere,"  quod  he,  "  to  the  no  gret  honour, 
For  to  be  fals,  ne  for  to  be  traytour 
To  me,  that  am  thy  cosyn  and  thy  brother 
I-swore  ful  deepe,  and  ech  of  us  to  other, 
That  never  for  to  deyen  hi  the  payne, 
Til  that  deeth  departe  schal  us  twayne, 


11:11 — I-twore.  It  was  a  common  practice  in  the  middle  ages  for 
persons  to  take  formal  oaths  of  fraternity  and  friendship,  and  a  breach 
of  the  oath  was  considered  something  worse  than  perjury.  This  in- 
cident enters  into  the  plots  of  some  of  the  medieval  romances.  A  curious 
example  will  he  found  in  the  Romance  of  Athelston,  Reliq.  Antiq.  ii, 
p.  85. 

1135. — deyen  in  the  payne.  This  appears  to  have  been  a  proverbial 
expression,  taken  from  the  French.  In  Froissart,  as  cited  by  Tyrwhitt, 
Edward  III  is  made  to  declare,  that  he  would  bring  the  war  to  a  suc- 
cessful issue,  or  il  moufroit  en  la  peine. 


THE    KNIGHTES    TALE.  49 

Neyther  of  us  in  love  to  hynder  other, 
Ne  in  non  other  cas,  my  leeve  brother ; 
But  that  thou  schuldest  trewly  forther  me 
In  eveiy  caas,  and  I  schal  forther  the.  II40 

This  was  thyn  othe,  and  myn  eek  certayn ; 
I  wot  right  wel,  thou  darst  it  nat  withsayn. 
Thus  art  thou  of  my  counseil  out  of  doute. 
And  now  thou  woldest  falsly  ben  aboute 
To  love  my  lady,  whom  I  love  and  serve, 
And  evere  schal,  unto  myn  herte  sterve. 
Now  certes,  fals  Arcite,  thou  schal  not  so. 
I  loved  hir  first,  and  tolde  the  my  woo 
As  to  my  counseil,  and  to  brother  sworn 
To  forther  me,  as  I  have  told  biforn.  H50 

For  which  thou  art  i-bounden  as  a  knight 
To  helpe  me,  if  it  lay  in  thi  might, 
Or  elles  art  thou  fals,  I  dar  wel  sayn." 
This  Arcite  ful  proudly  spak  agayn. 
"  Thou  schalt,"  quoth  he,  "  be  rather  fals  than  I. 
But  thou  art  fals,  I  telle  the  uttirly. 
For  far  amour  I  loved  hir  first  then  thow. 
What  wolt  thou  sayn  ?  thou  wost  not  yit  now 
Whether  sche  be  a  womman  or  goddesse. 
Thyn  is  affeccioun  of  holynesse,  ll6° 

And  myn  is  love,  as  of  a  creature  ; 
For  which  I  tolde  the  myn  aventure 
As  to  my  cosyn,  and  my  brother  sworn. 
I  pose,  that  thou  lovedest  hire  biforn  : 

1187. — love.    TheHarl.  MS.  has  lande. 

E 


50  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Wost  thou  nat  wel  the  olde  clerkes  sawe, 

That  who  schal  geve  a  lover  eny  lawe, 

Love  is  a  grettere  lawe,  by  my  pan, 

Then  may  be  geve  to  eny  erthly  man  ? 

Therfore  posityf  lawe,  and  such  decre, 

Is  broke  alway  for  love  in  ech  degree.  1 1 70 

A  man  moot  needes  love  maugre  his  heed. 

He  may  nought  fie  it,  though  he  schulde  be  deed, 

Al  be  sche  mayde,  or  be  sche  widewe  or  wyf. 

And  that  it  is  nat  likly  al  thy  lyf 

To  stonden  in  hire  grace,  no  more  schal  I : 

For  wel  thou  wost  thyselven  verrily, 

That  thou  and  I  been  dampned  to  prisoun 

Perpetuelly,  us  gayneth  no  raunsoun. 

We  stryve,  as  doth  the  houndes  for  the  boon, 

They  foughte  al  day,  andyit  here  part  was  noon.  1180 

Ther  com  a  kyte,  whil  that  they  were  wrothe, 

And  bar  awey  the  boon  bitwixe  hem  bothe. 

And  therfore  at  the  kynges  court,  my  brother, 

Eche  man  for  himself,  ther  is  non  other. 

Love  if  the  list ;  for  I  love  and  ay  schal  : 

And  sothly,  leeve  brother,  this  is  al. 

Eke  in  this  prisoun  moote  we  endure, 

And  every  of  us  take  his  aventure." 


1165. — the  oleic  clerkes  sawe.     Boethius,  who  says,  ill  his  treatise  De 
Consolot.  Philos.  lib.  iii,  met.  12, — 

Quis  legem  det  amantitms? 
Major  lex  amor  est  sibi. 
1179. — houndes.     This  is  a  medieval  fable  which  I  have  not  met  with 
elsewhere,  though  it  may  probably  be  found  in  some  of  the  inedited  col- 
lections. 


THE    KNIGHTES    TALE.  51 

Gret  was  the  stryf  and  long  bytwixe  hem  tweye, 

If  that  I  hackle  leysir  for  to  seye :  119° 

But  to  the  effect,  it  happed  on  a  day, 

(To  telle  it  yow  as  schortly  as  I  may) 

A  worthy  duk  that  highte  Perotheus, 

That  felaw  was  to  the  duk  Theseus 

Syn  thilke  day  that  they  were  children  lyte, 

Was  come  to  Athenes,  his  felawe  to  visite, 

And  for  to  pley,  as  he  was  wont  to  do, 

For  in  this  world  he  loved  noman  so : 

And  he  loved  him.  as  tendurly  agayn. 

So  wel  they  loved,  as  olde  bookes  sayn,  1200 

That  whan  that  oon  was  deed,  sotlily  to  telle, 

His  felawe  wente  and  sought  him  doun  in  helle  : 

But  of  that  story  lyst  me  nought  to  write. 

Duk  Perotheus  loved  wel  Arcite, 

And  hadde  him  knowe  at  Thebes  yeer  by  yeer : 

And  fynally  at  requeste  and  prayer 

Of  Perotheus,  withoute  any  raunsoun 

Duk  Theseus  him  leet  out  of  prisoun, 

Frely  to  go,  wher  him  lust  over  al, 

In  such  a  gyse,  as  I  you  telle  schal.  1210 

This  was  the  forward,  playnly  to  endite, 

Betwixe  Theseus  and  him  Arcite: 

That  if  so  were,  that  Arcite  were  founde 

Evere  in  his  lyf,  by  daye  or  night,  0  stound 

In  eny  contre  of  this  Theseus, 


1202. — in  hclle.     An  allusion  to  the  classic  story  of  Theseus  and 
Pirithous. 

E  '2 


52  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

And  he  were  caught,  it  was  acorded  thus, 

That  with  a  swerd  he  scholde  lese  his  heed ; 

Ther  nas  noon  other  remedy  ne  reed, 

But  took  his  leeve,  and  homward  he  him  spedde ; 

Let  him  be  war,  his  nekke  lith  to  wedde.  1220 

How  gret  a  sorwe  suffreth  now  Arcite  ! 
The  deth  he  feleth  thorugh  his  herte  smyte  ; 
He  weepeth,  weyleth,  cryeth  pitously  ; 
To  slen  himself  he  wayteth  pryvyly. 
He  seyde,  "  Alias  the  day  that  I  was  born ! 
Now  is  my  prisoun  werse  than  was  biforne : 
Now  is  me  schape  eternally  to  dwelle 
Nought  in  purgatorie,  but  in  helle. 
Alias !  that  ever  knewe  I  Perotheus  ! 
For  elles  had  I  dweld  with  Theseus  1230 

I-fetered  in  his  prisoun  for  evere  moo. 
Than  had  I  ben  in  blis,  and  nat  in  woo. 
Oonly  the  sight  of  hir,  whom  that  I  serve, 
Though  that  I  hir  grace  may  nat  deserve, 
Wold  han  sufficed  right  ynough  for  me. 
O  dere  cosyn  Palamon,"  quod  he, 
"  Thyn  is  the  victoire  of  this  aventure, 
Ful  blisfully  in  prisoun  to  endure ; 
In  prisoun  ?  nay,  certes  but  in  paradys  ! 
Wei  hath  fortune  y-torned  the  the  dys,  1240 

That  hath  the  sight  of  hir,  and  I  the  absence. 
For  possible  is,  syn  thou  hast  hir  presence, 
And  art  a  knight,  a  worthi  and  an  able, 
That  by  som  cas,  syn  fortune  is  chaungable, 


THE    KNTGI1TES    TALE.  •  53 

Thou  maist  to  thy  desir  somtyme  atteyne. 

But  I  that  am  exiled,  and  bareyne 

Of  alle  grace,  and  in  so  gret  despeir, 

That  ther  nys  water,  erthe,  fyr,  ne  eyr, 

Ne  creature,  that  of  hern  maked  is, 

That  may  me  helpe  ne  comfort  in  this.  1250 

Wei  ought  I  sterve  in  wanhope  and  distresse  ; 

Farwel  my  lyf  and  al  my  jolynesse. 

Alias,  why  playnen  folk  so  in  comune 

Of  purveance  of  God,  or  of  fortune, 

That  geveth  hem  ful  ofte  in  many  a  gyse 

Wei  better  than  thei  can  hemself  devyse? 

Som  man  desireth  for  to  have  richesse, 

That  cause  is  of  his  morthre  or  gret  seeknesse. 

And  som  man  wolde  out  of  his  prisoun  fayn, 

That  in  his  hous  is  of  his  mayne  slayn.  1260 

Infinite  harmes  ben  in  this  mateere ; 

We  wote  nevere  what  thing  we  prayen  heere. 

We  faren  as  he  that  dronke  is  as  a  mows. 

A  dronke  man  wot  wel  he  hath  an  hous, 

But  he  not  nat  which  the  righte  wey  is  thider, 

And  to  a  dronke  man  the  wey  is  slider, 

And  certes  in  this  world  so  faren  we. 

We  seeken  faste  after  felicite, 

But  we  gon  wrong  ful  ofte  trewely. 

Thus  may  we  seyen  alle,  namely  I,  12?° 

That  wende  have  had  a  gret  opinioun, 

1264.— a  dronke  man.     From  Boethias  De  Consul,  lib.  iii.  pr.  2.  sed 
velut  ebrius,  (lumniu  ijno  tramitc  revertatur  ignorat. 


54  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

That  gif  I  raighte  skape  fro  prisoun, 
Than  had  I  he  in  joye  and  parfyt  hele, 
Ther  now  I  am  exiled  fro  my  wele. 
Syn  that  I  may  not  se  yow,  Emelye, 
I  nam  hut  deed ;  ther  nys  no  remedy e." 

Uppon  that  other  syde  Palamon, 
Whan  he  wiste  that  Arcite  was  agoon, 
Such  sorwe  maketh,  that  the  grete  tour 
Resowneth  of  his  yollyng  and  clamour.  1280 

The  pure  feteres  of  his  schynes  grete 
Weren  of  his  hitter  salte  teres  wete. 
"Alias!"  quod  he,  "Arcita,  cosyn  nryn, 
Of  al  oure  strif,  God  woot,  the  fruyt  is  thin. 
Thow  walkest  now  in  Thehes  at  thi  large, 
And  of  my  woo  thou  gevest  litel  charge. 
Thou  maiste,  syn  thou  hast  wysdom  and  manhede, 
Assemble  al  the  folk  of  oure  kynrede, 
And  make  a  werre  so  scharpe  in  this  cite, 
That  hy  som  aventure,  or  by  som  trete,  1290 

Thou  mayst  hire  wynne  to  lady  and  to  wyf, 
For  whom  that  I  most  needes  leese  my  lyf. 
For  as  by  wey  of  possibilite, 
Syn  thou  art  at  thi  large  of  prisoun  free, 
And  art  a  lord,  gret  is  thin  avantage, 
More  than  is  myn,  that  sterve  here  in  a  kage. 
For  I  moot  weepe  and  weyle,  whil  I  lyve, 
With  al  the  woo  that  prisoun  may  me  gyve, 
And  eek  with  peyne  that  love  me  geveth  also, 
That  doubleth  al  my  torment  and  my  wo."  1300 


THE    KNIGHTES    TALE.  55 

Therwith  the  fayr  of  jelousye  upsterte 

Withinne  his  brest,  and  hent  him  by  the  herte 

So  wodly,  that  lik  was  he  to  byholde 

The  box-tree,  or  the  asschen  deed  and  colde. 

Tho  seyde  he ;  "0  goddes  cruel,  that  governe 

This  world  with  byndyng  of  youre  word  eterne, 

And  writen  in  the  table  of  athamaunte 

Youre  parlement  and  youre  eterne  graunte, 

What  is  mankynde  more  to  yow  holde 

Than  is  a  scheep,  that  rouketh  in  the  folde  ?        1310 

For  slayn  is  man  right  as  another  beste, 

And  dwelleth  eek  in  prisoun  and  arreste, 

And  hath  seknesse,  and  greet  adversite, 

And  ofte  tymes  gilteles,  parde. 

What  governaunce  is  in  youre  prescience, 

That  gilteles  tormenteth  innocence  ? 

And  yet  encreceth  this  al  my  penaunce, 

That  man  is  bounden  to  his  observaunce 

For  Goddes  sake  to  letten  of  his  wille, 

Ther  as  a  beste  may  al  his  lust  fulfille.  1320 

And  whan  a  beste  is  deed,  he  ne  hath  no  peyne ; 

But  man  after  his  deth  moot  wepe  and  pleyne, 

Though  in  this  world  he  have  care  and  woo  : 

Withouten  doute  it  may  stonde  so. 

The  answer  of  this  I  lete  to  divinis, 

But  wel  I  woot,  that  in  tins  world  gret  pyne  is. 

Alias  !  I  se  a  serpent  or  a  theef, 

That  many  a  trewe  man  hath  doon  mescheef, 

Goe  al  his  large,  and  wher  him  lust  may  tunic. 


50  THE    L'ANTEKBUKY    TALES. 

But  I  irioste  be  in  prisoun  thurgh  Saturne,  1330 

And  eek  thorugh  Juno,  jalous  and  eke  wood, 
That  hath  destroyed  wel  neyh  al  the  blood 
Of  Thebes,  with  his  waste  walles  wyde. 
And  Venus  sleeth  me  on  that  other  syde 
For  jelousye,  and  fere  of  him  Arcyte." 
Now  wol  I  stynte  of  Palamon  a  lite, 
And  lete  him  stille  in  his  prisoun  dwelle, 
And  of  Arcita  forth  than  wol  I  telle. 
The  somer  passeth,  and  the  nightes  longe 
Encrescen  double  wise  the  peynes  stronge  1340 

Bothe  of  the  lover  and  the  prisoner. 
I  noot  which  hath  the  wofullere  cheer. 
For  schortly  for  to  sey,  this  Palamon 
Perpetually  is  dampned  to  prisoun, 
In  cheynes  and  in  fete  res  to  be  deed ; 
And  Arcite  is  exiled  upon  his  heed 
For  evere  mo  as  out- of  that  contre, 
Ne  nevere  mo  he  schal  his  lady  see. 
Now  lovyeres  axe  I  this  question, 
Who  hath  the  worse,  Arcite  or  Palamon  ?■  1350 

That  on  may  se  his  lady  clay  by  day, 
But  in  prisoun  he  moot  dwelle  alway. 
That  other  may  wher  him  lust  ryde  or  go, 
But  seen  his  lady  schal  he  never  mo. 
Now  deemeth  as  you  luste,  ye  that  can, 
For  I  wol  telle  forth  as  I  bigan. 


1349. — this  question.     An  implied  allusion  to  the  medieval  courts  of 
love,  in  which  questions  of  this  kind  were  seriously  discussed. 


THE    KNIGHTES    TALE.  57 

Whan  that  Arcite  to  Thebes  come  was, 
Ful  ofte  a  day  he  swelde  and  seyde  alas, 
For  seen  his  lady  schal  he  never  mo. 
And  schortly  to  concluden  al  his  wo,  1360 

So  moche  sorwe  had  never  creature, 
That  is  or  schal  whil  that  the  world  wol  dure. 
His  sleep,  his  mete,  his  drynk  is  him  byraft, 
That  lene  he  wexe,  and  drye  as  eny  schaft. 
His  eyen  holwe,  grisly  to  biholde  ; 
His  hewe  falwe,  and  pale  as  asschen  colde, 
And  solitary  he  was,  and  ever  alone, 
And  dwellyng  all  the  night,  making  his  moone. 
And  if  he  herde  song  or  instrument, 
Then  wolde  he  wepe,  he  mighte  nought  be  stent.  1370 
So  feble  were  his  spirites,  and  so  lowe, 
And  chaunged  so,  that  no  man  couthe  knowe 
His  speche  nother  his  vois,  though  men  it  herde. 
And  in  his  gir,  for  all  the  world  he  ferde 
Nought  oorily  lyke  the  lovers  malady e 
Of  Hercos,  but  rather  lik  manye, 
Engendrud  of  humour  malencolyk, 
Byfume  in  his  selle  fantastyk. 


1378. — in  his  selle  fanlastyk.  Tyrwhitt  reads,  Befome  Ids  hed  in  his 
celle  fanlastike.  The  division  of  the  brain  into  cells,  according  to  the 
different  sensitive  faculties,  is  very  ancient  and  is  found  depicted  in 
medieval  manuscripts.  It  was  a  rude  fore  runner  of  the  science  of 
phrenology.  The  '  fantastic  cell '  (fantasia)  was  in  front  of  the  head.  In 
MS.  Hail  No.  1025.  is  a  treatise  entitled  Liber  Thesauri  Occulti,  in  which 
(fid.  5,  r°-),  we  are  informed,  "  Et  est  in  oerehro  rationativa,  in  corde 

iras>cibilis  vel  inspirativa,  in  epate  voluntaria  vel  eoncupiscibilis 

Verumptamen   certum   est  in   prora   cerebri  esso  fantasiam,    in  medio 
rationein   discretion^,    in   puppi  memoriam  ;    quorum  si  aliqua  naturali 


58  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

And  schortly  turned  was  al  up-so-doun 
Bothe  abyt  and  eek  disposicioun  1380 

Of  him,  this  woful  lovere  daun  Arcite. 
What  schulde  I  alway  of  his  wo  endite  '? 
Whan  he  endured  hadde  a  yeer  or  tuoo 
This  cruel  torment,  and  this  peyne  and  woo, 
At  Thebes,  in  his  contre,  as  I  seyde, 
Upon  a  night  in  sleep  as  he  him  leyde, 
Him  thought  that  how  the  venged  god  Mercurie 
Byforn  him  stood,  and  bad  him  to  be  murye. 
His  slepy  yerd  in  hond  he  bar  upright ; 
An  hat  he  wered  upon  his  heres  bright.  1390 

Arrayed  was  this  god  (as  he  took  keepe) 
As  he  was  whan  that  Argous  took  his  sleep  ; 
And  seyde  him  thus :  "To  Athenes  schalt  thou  wende ; 
Ther  is  the  schapen  of  thy  wo  an  ende." 
And  with  that  word  Arcite  wook  and  sterte. 
"  Now  trewely  how  sore  that  me  smerte," 
Quod  he,  "  to  Athenes  right  now  wol  I  fare  ; 
Ne  for  the  drede  of  deth  schal  I  not  spare 
To  see  my  lady,  that  I  love  and  serve  ; 
In  hire  presence  I  recche  nat  to  sterve."  1400 

And  with  that  word  he  caught  a  gret  myrour, 

infinnitate  vel  percussione  desipuerit  et  maxime  memoria,  prorsus  et 
sompnia  perempta  sunt,  si  ratio  Tel  fantasia  vero  destructa,  sompnia 
quoquo  modo  ex  memoria  remanserunt.  Si  itaque  homo  multa  per  somp- 
nium  saipe  viderit  et  oblitus  fuerit  ea  qua)  vidit,  scito  memorialem  partem 
cerebri  ejus  tenebrositate  et  obscuritate  detentam  esse.  Similiter  de 
ratione  vel  judicio  et  fantasia  prajudicandum  est,  et  infirmitati  futuroe 
pnecavendum." 

1384. — I  retain  Tyrwhitt's  reading  of  this  line,  which  in  the  Harl.  MS. 
runs,  In  this  cruel  torment,  peyne,  and  woo. 


THE    KNIGHTES    TALE.  59 

And  saugh  that  chauuged  was  al  his  colour, 

And  saugh  his  visage  was  in  another  kynde. 

And  right  anoon  it  ran  him  into  mynde, 

That  seththen  his  face  was  so  disfigured 

Of  maladie  the  which  he  hath  endured, 

He  mighte  wel,  if  that  he  har  him  lowe, 

Lyve  in  Athenes  evere  more  unknowe, 

And  see  his  lady  wel  neih  clay  by  day. 

And  right  anon  he  chauuged  his  aray,  1410 

And  clothed  him  as  a  pore  laborer. 

And  al  alone,  save  oonly  a  squyer, 

That  knew  his  pryvyte  and  al  his  cas, 

Which  was  disgysed  povrely  as  he  was, 

To  Athenes  is  he  go  the  nexte  way. 

And  to  the  court  he  went  upon  a  day, 

And  at  the  gate  he  profred  his  servyse, 

To  drugge  and  drawe,  what  so  men  wolde  devyse. 

And  schortly  of  this  matier  for  to  seyn, 

He  fel  in  office  with  a  chambirleyn,  1420 

The  which  that  dwellyng  was  with  Emelye. 

For  he  was  wys,  and  couthe  sone  aspye 

Of  every  servaunt,  which  that  served  here. 

Wel  couthe  he  hewe  woode,  and  water  here, 

For  he  was  yonge  and  mighty  for  the  nones, 

And  therto  he  was  strong  and  bygge  of  bones 

To  doon  that  eny  wight  can  him  devyse. 

A  yeer  or  two  he  was  in  this  servisc, 

Page  of  the  chambre  of  Emelye  the  bright ; 

And  Philostratc  he  soide  that  he  hight.  1430 


60  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

But  half  so  wel  beloved  a  man  as  he, 

Ne  was  ther  never  in  court  of  his  degree. 

He  was  so  gentil  of  his  condicioun, 

That  thorughout  al  the  court  was  his  renoun. 

They  seyde  that  it  were  a  charite 

That  Theseus  wolde  enhaunsen  his  degree, 

And  putten  him  in  worschipful  servyse, 

Ther  as  he  might  his  vertu  excersise. 

And  thus  within  a  while  his  name  spronge 

Bothe  of  his  decles,  and  of  goode  tonge,  1440 

That  Theseus  hath  taken  him  so  neer 

That  of  his  chambre  he  made  him  squyer, 

And  gaf  him  gold  to  mayntene  his  degree ; 

And  eek  men  brought  him  out  of  his  countre 

Fro  yeer  to  yer  ful  pryvyly  his  rente, 

But  honestly  and  sleighly  he  it  spente, 

That  no  man  wondred  how  that  he  it  hadde. 

And  thre  yeer  in  this  wise  his  lyf  he  ladde, 

And  bar  him  so  in  pees  and  eek  in  werre, 

Ther  nas  no  man  that  Theseus  hath  so  derre.       1450 

And  in  this  blisse  lete  I  now  Arcite, 

Aiid  speke  I  wole  of  Palamon  a  lyte. 

In  derknes  and  orrible  and  strong  prisoun 
This  seven  yeer  hath  seten  Palamon, 
Forpyned,  what  for  woo  and  for  destresse. 
Who  feleth  double  sorwe  and  hevynesse 
But  Palamon?  that  love  destreyneth  so, 
That  wood  out  of  his  witt  he  goth  for  wo, 

1439.— within.      The  MS.  Harl   reads  incorrectly  withinne,  which  is 
the  adverbial  form  of  the  preposition. 


THE    KNIGHTES    TALE.  6  1 

And  eek  therto  he  is  a  prisoner 

Perpetuelly,  nat  oonly  for  a  yeer.  ,4fi0 

Who  couthe  ryme  in  Englissch  propurly 

His  martirdani  ?  for  sothe  it  am  nat  I  ; 

Therfore  I  passe  as  lightly  as  I  may. 

It  fel  that  in  the  seventhe  yeer  in  May 

The  thridde  night,  (as  olde  hookes  seyn, 

That  al  this  storie  tellen  more  pleyn) 

Were  it  hy  aventure  or  destene, 

(As,  whan  a  thing  is  schapen,  it  schal  be,) 

That  soone  aftur  the  mydnyght,  Palamon 

By  helpyng  of  a  freend  brak  his  prisoun,  1470 

And  fleeth  the  cite  fast  as  he  may  goo, 

For  he  had  give  drinke  his  gayler  soo 

Of  a  clarre,  maad  of  a  certayn  wyn, 

With  nercotykes  and  opye  of  Thebes  fyn, 

That  al  that  night  though  that  men  wolde  him  schake, 

The  gayler  sleep,  he  mighte  nought  awake. 

And  thus  he  fleeth  as  fast  as  ever  he  may. 

The  night  was  schort,  and  faste  by  the  day, 

That  needes  cost  he  moste  himselven  hyde. 

And  til  a  grove  ther  faste  besyde  1480 

With  dredful  foot  than  stalketh  Palamon.        . 

For  schortly  this  was  his  opynyoun, 

That  in  that  grove  he  wolde  him  hyde  al  day, 

And  in  the  night  then  wolde  he  take  his  way 

To  Thebes-ward,  his  frendes  for  to  preye 

On  Theseus  to  helpe  him  to  werreye. 

And  schortelich,  or  lie  wolde  lese  liis  lvf. 


62  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Or  wynnen  Ernclye  unto  his  wyf. 

This  is  theffect  of  his  entente  playn. 

Now  wol  I  tome  unto  Arcite  agayn,  1490 

That  litel  wiste  how  nyh  that  was  his  care, 

Til  that  fortune  hath  brought  him  in  the  snare. 

The  busy  larke,  messager  of  daye, 
Salueth  in  hire  song  the  niorwe  gray; 
And  fyry  Phebus  ryseth  up  so  bright, 
That  al  the  orient  laugheth  of  the  light, 
And  with  his  stremes  dryeth  in  the  greves 
The  silver  dropes,  hongyng  on  the  leeves. 
And  Arcite,  that  is  in  the  court  ryal 
With  Theseus,  his  squyer  principal,  l-r>oo 

Is  risen,  and  loketh  on  the  mery  day. 
And  for  to  doon  his  observance  to  May, 
Remembryng  of  the  poynt  of  his  desire, 
He  on  his  courser,  stertyng  as  the  fire, 
Is  riden  into  feeldes  him  to  pleye, 
Out  of  the  court,  were  it  a  myle  or  tweye. 
And  to  the  grove,  of  which  that  I  yow  tolde, 
By  aventure  his  wey  he  gan  to  holde, 
To  make  him  a  garland  of  the  greves, 
Were  it  of  woodewynde  or  hawthorn  leves,  1510 

And  lowde  he  song  agens  the  sonne  scheene : 
"  May,  with  al  thyn  floures  and  thy  greene, 
Welcome  be  thou,  wel  faire  freissche  May, 
I  hope  that  I  som  grene  gete  may." 

1493 — messager  of  day.     The  Hail.  MS.  reads  of  May.     Three  lines 
below,  Twvrhitt  rends  sight  for  light,  very  unpoetically. 


THE    KNIGHTES    TALE.  03 

And  fro  his  courser,  with  a  lusty  hertc, 

Into  the  grove  ful  lustily  he  sterte, 

And  in  a  pathe  he  romed  up  and  doun, 

Ther  by  aventure  this  Palamoun 

Was  in  a  busche,  that  no  man  might  him  see, 

Ful  sore  afered  of  his  deth  was  he.  1520 

Nothing  ne  knew  he  that  it  was  Arcite. 

God  wot  he  wolde  have  trowed  it  ful  lite. 

For  soth  is  seyde,  goon  ful  many  yeres, 

That  feld  hath  eyen,  and  the  woode  hath  eeres. 

It  is  ful  fair  a  man  to  bere  him  evene, 

For  al  day  meteth  men  atte  unset  stevene. 

Ful  litel  woot  Arcite  of  his  felawe, 

That  was  so  neih  to  herken  of  his  sawe, 

For  in  the  busche  he  stynteth  now  ful  stillc. 

Whan  that  Arcite  had  romed  al  his  fille,  1530 

And  songen  al  the  roundel  lustily, 

Into  a  studie  he  fel  sodeynly, 

As  doth  thes  lovers  in  here  queynte  geeres, 

Now  in  the  croppe,  now  doun  in  the  breres, 

Now  up,  now  doun,  as  boket  in  a  weUe. 

Right  as  the  Friday,  sothly  for  to  telle, 

Now  it  schyneth,  now  it  reyneth  faste, 


1521. — feld  hath  eyen.  This  was  a  very  popular  old  proverb.  See 
my  Essays  on  subjects  connected  with  the  Literature,  &c  of  the  Middle 
Ages,  i,  p.  108.  A  Latin  rhymer  has  given  the  following  version  of  it, 
not  uncommon  in  MSS. 

Campus  habet  lumen,  et  habet  minus  auris  acumen. 

1537. — now  it  schyneth.  Tyrwliitt  reads  mow  schineth  it,  ami  proposes 
on  bad  MS.  authority  now  itte  sliintih  ;  but  be  was  wrong  in  supposing 
that  "  itte  may  have  been  a   dissyllable  formerly,  as  well  as  atte" 


64  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Eight  so  gan  gery  Venus  overcaste 
The  hertes  of  hire  folk,  right  as  hir  day 
Is  grisful,  right  so  chaungeth  hire  aray.  1540 

Selde  is  the  Fryday  al  the  wyke  i-like. 
Whan  that  Arcite  hadde  songe,  he  gan  to  sike, 
And  sette  him  doun  withouten  eny  more  : 
"  Alas  !  "  quod  he,  "that  day  that  I  was  hore  ! 
How  longe,  Juno,  thurgh  thy  cruelte 
Wiltow  werreyen  Thehes  the  citee  ? 
Alias  !  i-hrought  is  to  confusioun 
The  hlood  royal  of  Cadme  and  Amphionn  : 
Of  Cadynus,  the  which  was  the  furst  man 
That  Thehes  hulde,  or  first  the  toun  by gan,  1550 

And  of  that  cite  first  was  crowned  kyng, 
Of  his  lynage  am  I,  and  his  ofspring 
By  verray  lyne,  and  of  his  stok  ryal : 
And  now  I  am  so  caytyf  and  so  thral, 
That  he  that  is  my  mortal  enemy, 
I  serve  him  as  his  squyer  povrely. 
And  yet  doth  Juno  me  wel  more  schame, 
For  I  dar  nought  hyknowe  myn  owne  name, 
But  ther  as  I  was  wont  to  hote  Arcite, 
Now  hoote  I  Philostrate,  nought  worth  a  mytc.    1560 
Alias  !  thou  felle  Mars,  alias  !  Juno, 
Thus  hath  youre  ire  owre  lynage  fordo, 
Save  oonly  me,  and  wrecchid  Palamon, 
That  Theseus  martyreth  in  prisoun. 
And  over  all  this,  to  slee  me  utterly, 

1540.— grisful.     The  two  Cambridge  MSS.  have  gerful  and  geryful, 
which  is  perhaps  right. 


THK     KNIGHTES    TALK.  65 

Love  hath  liis  fyry  dart  so  brennyngly 

I-stykid  thorugh  my  trewe  careful  herte, 

That  schapen  was  my  deth  erst  than  my  scherte. 

Ye  si  en  me  with  youre  eyhen,  Emelye ; 

Ye  ben  the  cause  wherfore  that  I  dye.  'r'7" 

Of  al  the  remenant  of  al  myn  other  care 

Ne  sette  I  nought  the  mountaunce  of  a  tare, 

So  that  I  couthe  do  ought  to  youre  plesaunce." 

And  with  that  word  he  fel  doun  in  a  traunce 

A  longe  tyme  ;  and  aftirward  upsterte 

This  Palamon,  that  thoughte  thurgh  bis  herte 

He  felt  a  cold  swerd  sodeynliche  glyde, 

For  ire  he  quook,  he  nolde  no  lenger  abyde. 

And  whan  that  he  hath  herd  Arcites  tale, 

As  he  were  wood,  with  face  deed  and  pale,  1580 

He  sterte  him  up  out  of  the  bussches  thikke, 

And  seyd  :  "Arcyte,  false  traitour  wikke, 

Now  art  thou  bent,  that  lovest  my  lady  so, 

For  whom  that  I  have  al  this  peyne  and  wo, 

And  art  my  blood,  and  to  my  counseil  sworn, 

As  I  ful  ofte  have  told  the  heere  byfom, 

And  hast  byjaped  here  the  duke  Theseus, 

And  falsly  chaunged  hast  thy  name  thus  ; 


1568. — than  my  scherte.  This  appears  to  have  been  a  proverbial 
phrase,  and  is  explained  by  two  passages  from  other  poems  of  Chaucer 
I  j)  the  Legendc  of  good  women,  1.  2C18, — 

Sens  first  that  day,  that  shapen  was  my  sherte, 
Or  by  the  fatal  snster  had  my  dome, 
and  in  the  third  hook  of  Troilus  and  Cieseide,  1.  731, — 
O  fatal  sustren,  whiche,  or  any  clothe 
Me  shapen  was,  my  destinee  me  spoune, 

i 


66  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

I  wol  be  deed,  or  elles  thou  schalt  dye. 

Thou  schalt  not  love  my  lady  Emelye,  1590 

But  I  wil  love  hire  oonly  and  no  mo ; 

For  I  am  Palamon  thy  mortal  fo. 

And  though  that  I  no  wepen  have  in  this  place, 

But  out  of  prisoun  am  y-stert  by  grace, 

I  drede  not,  that  other  thou  schalt  dye, 

Or  thou  ne  schalt  not  love  Emelye. 

Chese  which  thou  wilt,  for  thou  schalt  not  asterte." 

This  Arcite,  with  ful  despitous  herte, 

Whan  he  him  knew,  and  had  his  tale  herde, 

As  fers  as  a  lyoun,  pulleth  out  a  swerde,  I600 

And  seide  thus  :  "By  God  that  sitteth  above, 

Nere  it  that  thou  art  sike  and  wood  for  love, 

And  eek  that  thou  no  wepne  hast  in  this  place, 

Thou  schuldest  never  out  of  this  grove  pace, 

That  thou  ne  schuldest  deyen  of  myn  hond. 

For  I  defye  the  seurte  and  the  bond 

Which  that  thou  seyst  I  have  maad  to  the. 

For,  verray  fool,  thenk  that  love  is  fre, 

And  I  wol  love  hire  mawgre  al  thy  might. 

But,  for  thou  art  a  gentil  perfight  knight,  1610 

And  wenest  to  dereyne  hire  by  batayle, 

Have  heere  my  trouthe,  to  niorwe  I  nyl  not  fayle, 

Withouten  wityng  of  eny  other  wight, 

That  heer  I  wol  be  founden  as  a  knight, 


1604. — The  MS.  Harl.  reads,  Hut  out  of  prisoun  art  y-stert  '<;/  grace, 
which  probably  arose  from  a  mistake  of  the  scribe,  who  seeing  that  line 
1603  was  a  repetition  of  1593,  thought  that  the  next  line  (1591)  was 
to  he  repeated  also. 


THE    KNIGHTES    TALE.  67 

And  bryngen  barneys  right  inougb  for  the ; 

And  ches  the  best,  and  lef  the  worst  for  me. 

And  mete  and  drynke  this  night  wil  I  bryng 

Inough  for  the,  and  cloth  for  thy  beddyng. 

And  if  so  be  that  thou  my  lady  wynne, 

And  sle  me  in  this  wood  that  I  am  inne,  1620 

Thou  maist  wel  have  thy  lady  as  for  me." 

This  Palamon  answereth,  "I  graunt  it  the." 

And  thus  they  ben  departed  til  a-morwe, 

Whan  ech  of  hem  had  leyd  his  feith  to  borwe. 

O  Cupide,  out  of  al  charite ! 
O  regne,  that  wolt  no  felaw  have  with  the  ! 
Ful  soth  is  seyde,  that  love  ne  lordschipe 
Wol  not,  his  thonkes,  have  no  felaschipe. 
Wel  fynden  that  Arcite  and  Palamoun. 
Arcite  is  riden  anon  to  the  toun,  1630 

And  on  the  morwe,  or  it  were  day  light. 
Ful  prively  two  barneys  hath  he  dight, 
Bothe  suffieaunt  and  mete  to  darreyne 
The  batayl  in  the  feeld  betwix  hem  tweyne. 
And  on  his  bors,  alone  as  he  was  born, 
He  caryed  al  this  hameys  him  byforn  ; 
And  in  the  grove,  at  tyme  and  place  i-sette, 
This  Arcite  and  this  Palamon  ben  mette. 
Tho  chaungen  gan  here  colour  in  here  face. 
Right  as  the  honter  in  the  regne  of  Trace  1640 

That  stondeth  in  the  gappe  with  a  spere, 
Whan  honted  is  the  lyoun  or  the  here, 
And  hereto  him  come  russhyng  in  the  groves, 

i  \> 


68  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

And  breketh  bothe  the  bowes  and  the  leves, 

And  thenketh,  "  Here  cometh  my  mortel  enemy, 

Withoute  faile,  he  mot  be  deed  or  I ; 

For  eyther  I  mot  slen  him  at  the  gappe, 

Or  he  moot  slee  me,  if  it  me  myshappe  : " 

So  ferden  they,  in  chaungyng  of  here  hew, 

As  fer  as  eyther  of  hem  other  knewe.  165° 

Ther  nas  no  good  day,  ne  so  saluyng  ; 

But  streyt  withouten  wordes  rehersyng, 

Every  of  hem  helpeth  to  armen  other, 

As  frendly  as  he  were  his  owen  brother ; 

And  thanne  with  here  scharpe  speres  stronge 

They  foyneden  ech  at  other  wonder  longe. 

Tho  it  semed  that  this  Palamon 

In  his  fightyng  were  as  a  wood  lyoun, 

And  as  a  cruel  tygre  was  Arcite: 

As  wilde  boores  gonne  they  togeder  smyte,  166° 

That  frothen  white  as  fome  for  ire  wood. 

Up  to  the  ancle  they  faught  in  here  blood. 

And  in  this  wise  I  lete  hem  fightyng  welle  ; 

And  forthere  I  wol  of  Theseus  telle. 

The  destine,  mynistre  general, 
That  executeth  in  the  world  over  al 
The  purveans,  that  God  hath  seye  byforn ; 
So  strong  it  is,  that  they  the  world  had  sworn 
The  contrary  of  a  thing  by  ye  or  nay, 
Yet  som  tyme  it  schal  falle  upon  a  day  1670 


1066. — executeth.     The  MS   Harl.  reads,  excused. 
1670. — The  sentiment  expressed  in  this  and  the  following  line  is  taken 
direct  from  the  Teseide, — 


THE    KN1GHTES    TALE.  69 

That  falleth  nought  eft  in  a  thousend  yeere. 

For  certeynly  oure  appetites  heere, 

Be  it  of  werre,  of  pees,  other  hate,  or  love, 

Al  is  it  reuled  hy  the  sight  ahove. 

This  mene  I  now  hy  mighty  Theseus, 

That  for  to  honte  is  so  desirous, 

And  namely  the  grete  hert  in  May, 

That  in  his  hed  ther  daweth  him  no  day, 

That  he  nys  clad,  and  redy  for  to  ryde 

With  hont  and  horn,  and  houndes  him  hyside.      1680 

For  in  his  hontyng  hath  he  such  clelyt, 

That  is  his  joye  and  his  appetyt 

To  heen  himself  the  grete  herts  hane, 

For  after  Mars  he  serveth  now  Diane. 

Cleer  was  the  day,  as  I  have  told  or  this, 
And  Theseus,  with  alle  joye  and  hlys, 
With  his  Ypolita,  the  fayre  queene, 
And  Emelye,  clothed  al  in  greene, 
On  hontyng  he  thay  riden  ryally. 
And  to  the  grove,  that  stood  ther  faste  hy,  1690 

In  which  ther  was  an  hert  as  men  him  tolde, 
Duk  Theseus  the  streyte  wey  hath  holde. 
And  to  the  launde  he  rydeth  him  ful  right, 
Ther  was  the  hert  y-wont  to  have  his  flight, 
And  over  a  brook,  and  so  forth  in  his  weye. 
This  duk  wol  have  of  him  a  cours  or  tweye 
With  houndes,  which  as  him  lust  to  comaunde. 


Ma  come  ntii  vegioii  venir  in  hora 
Cossa  che  in  mille  anni  nun  aviene 


70  THE    CANTERBURY   TALKS. 

And  whan  this  duk  was  come  into  the  launde, 

Under  the  sonne  he  loketh,  right  anon 

He  was  war  of  Arcite  and  Palamon,  1700 

That  foughten  breeme,  as  it  were  boores  tuo ; 

The  brighte  swerdes  wente  to  and  fro 

So  hidously,  that  with  the  leste  strook 

It  seemeth  as  it  wolde  felle  an  ook  ; 

But  what  they  were,  nothing  yit  he  woot. 

This  duk  with  spores  his  courser  he  smoot, 

And  at  a  stert  he  was  betwix  hem  tuoo, 

And  pullid  out  a  swerd  and  cride,  "  Hoo! 

Nomore,  up  peyne  of  leesyng  of  your  heed. 

By  mighty  Mars,  anon  he  schal  be  deed,  i?io 

That  smyteth  eny  strook,  that  I  may  seen ! 

But  telleth  me  what  mestir  men  ye  been, 

That  ben  so  hardy  for  to  fighten  heere 

Withoute  jugge  or  other  officere, 

As  it  were  in  a  lyste  really." 

This  Palamon  answerde  hastily, 

And  seyde:   "  Sire,  what  nedeth  wordes  mo? 

We  ban  the  deth  deserved  bothe  tuo. 

Tuo  woful  wrecches  been  we,  and  kaytyves, 

That  ben  encombred  of  oure  owne  lyves  ;  1720 

And  as  thou  art  a  rightful  lord  and  juge, 

Ne  geve  us  neyther  mercy  no  refuge. 

And  sle  me  first,  for  seynte  charite ; 

But  sle  my  felaw  eek  as  wel  as  me. 

Or  sle  him  first;  for,  though  thou  knowe  him  lyte, 

1701. — boores  tuo.  Tyrwhitt,  with  most  of  the  MSS.,  reads  bulks  [balls). 


THE    KNIGHTES    TALE.  ?  I 

This  is  thy  mortal  fo,  this  is  Arcite, 

That  fro  thy  loud  is  banyscht  on  Iris  heed, 

For  which  he  hath  i-served  to  be  deed. 

For  this  is  he  that  coine  to  thi  gate 

And  seyde,  that  he  highte  Philostrate.  1730 

Thus  hath  he  japed  the  many  a  yer, 

And  thou  hast  maad  of  him  thy  cheef  squyer. 

And  this  is  he  that  loveth  Emelye. 

For  sith  the  day  is  come  that  I  schal  dye, 

I  make  pleynly  my  confessioun, 

That  I  am  the  woful  Palamoun, 

That  hath  thy  prisoun  broke  wikkedly. 

I  am  thy  mortal  foo,  and  it  am  I 

That  loveth  so  hoote  Emely  the  bright, 

That  I  wol  dye  present  in  hire  sight.  1740 

Therfore  I  aske  deeth  and  my  juwyse  ; 

But  slee  my  felaw  in  the  same  wyse, 

For  bothe  we  have  served  to  be  slayn." 

This  worthy  duk  answerde  anon  agayn, 
And  seide,  "  This  is  a  schort  conclusioun  : 
Your  owne  mouth,  by  your  owne  confessioun, 
Hath  dampned  you  bothe,  and  I  wil  it  recorde. 
It  nedeth  nought  to  pyne  yow  with  the  corde. 
Ye  schul  be  deed  by  mighty  Mars  the  reede!" 
The  queen  anon  for  verray  wommanhede  1750 


1749.— Mars  the  rccde.  Tyrwhitt  lias  quoted  Boccacio  for  the  same 
epithet,  used  at  tho  opening  of  his  Teseide — "  O  rubieondo  Marte" — 
it  refers,  of  course,  to  the  colour  of  the  planet.  The  medieval  writers 
constantly  mixed  up  their  astrological  notions  of  tin'  planets  in  their 
manner  of  looking  at  the  poetical  deities  of  the  ancients. 


•■i  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Gan  for  to  wepe,  and  so  dede  Emelye, 
And  alle  the  ladies  in  the  companye. 
Gret  pite  was  it,  as  it  thought  hem  alle, 
That  evere  such  a  chaunce  schulde  falle  ; 
For  gentil  men  thi  were  and  of  gret  estate, 
And  nothing  hut  for  love  was  this  debate. 
And  saw  here  bloody  woundes  wyde  and  sore ; 
And  alle  they  cryde  lesse  and  the  more, 
"  Have  mercy,  Lord,  upon  us  wommen  alle!" 
And  on  here  bare  knees  anoon  they  falle,  1760 

And  wolde  have  kissed  his  feet  right  as  he  stood, 
Til  atte  laste  aslaked  was  his  mood ; 
For  pite  renneth  sone  in  gentil  herte. 
And  though  he  first  for  ire  quok  and  sterte, 
He  hath  it  al  considered  in  a  clause, 
The  trespas  of  hem  bothe,  and  here  cause : 
And  although  his  ire  here  gylt  accused, 
Yet  in  his  resoun  he  hem  bothe  excused; 
And  thus  he  thought  that  every  maner  man 
Wol  help  himself  in  love  if  that  he  can,  1770 

And  eek  delyver  himself  out  of  prisoun. 
And  eek  in  his  hert  had  compassioun 
Of  wommen,  for  they  wepen  ever  in  oon : 
And  in  his  gentil  hert  he  thought  anoon, 
And  sothly  he  to  himself  seyde:   "  Fy 
Upon  a  lord  that  wol  have  no  mercy, 
But  be  a  lyoun  bothe  in  word  and  dede, 
To  hem  that  ben  in  repentaunce  and  drede, 

1761. — The  MS.  Hail,  reads  hare  feet,  which  makes  the  line  too  long. 


THE    KNIGHTES    TALE.  7o 

As  wel  as  to  a  proud  dispitious  man, 

That  wol  niaynteyne  that  he  first  bigan.  1780 

That  lord  hath  litel  of  discrecioun, 

That  in  such  caas  can  no  divisioun: 

But  wayeth  pride  and  humblenesse  after  oon. 

And  schortly,  whan  his  ire  is  over  gon, 

He  gan  to  loke  on  hem  with  eyen  light, 

And  spak  these  same  wordes  al  in  hight. 

The  god  of  love,  a !  benedlcite, 

How  mighty  and  how  gret  a  lord  is  he ! 

Agayne  his  might  ther  gayneth  non  obstacle, 

He  may  be  cleped  a  god  of  his  miracle  ;  1790 

For  he  can  maken  at  his  owen  gyse 

Of  ever  herte,  as  him  lust  devyse. 

Lo  her  is  Arcite  and  Palamon, 

That  quytely  were  out  of  my  prisoun, 

And  might  have  lyved  in  Thebes  ryally, 

And  witen  I  am  here  mortal  enemy, 

And  that  here  deth  lith  in  my  might  also, 

And  yet  hath  love,  maugre  here  eyghen  tuo, 

I-brought  hem  hider  bothe  for  to  dye. 

Now  loketh,  is  nat  that  an  heih  folye?  isoo 

Who  may  be  a  fole,  if  that  he  love? 

Byholde  for  Goddes  sake  that  sitteth  above, 

Se  how  they  blede!  be  they  nought  wel  arrayed  ? 

Thus  hath  here  lord,  the  god  of  love,  hem  payed 

Hero  wages  and  here  fees  for  here  servise. 


1785. — eyen  light.    The  Harl.  MS.  1ms  black  and  light,  which  makes 
the  line:  too  louf-c,  and  the  epithet  hl,i,k  is  evidently  redundant. 


74  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

And  yet  weneu  they  to  ben  ful  wise, 

That  serven  love,  for  ought  that  may  bifalle. 

But  this  is  yette  the  beste  game  of  alle, 

That  sche,  for  whom  they  have  this  jelousye, 

Can  hem  therfore  as  moche  thank  as  me.  1810 

Sche  woot  no  more  of  al  this  hoote  fare 

By  God,  than  wot  a  cuckow  or  an  hare. 

But  all  moot  ben  assayed  hoot  or  colde ; 

A  man  moot  ben  a  fool  other  yong  or  olde ; 

I  woot  it  by  myself  ful  yore  agon : 

For  in  my  tyme  a  servant  was  I  on. 

And  sythen  that  I  knewe  of  loves  peyne, 

And  wot  how  sore  it  can  a  man  destreyne, 

As  he  that  hath  often  ben  caught  in  his  lace, 

I  you  forgeve  holly  this  trespace,  1820 

At  the  request  of  the  queen  that  kneleth  heere, 

And  eek  of  Emely,  my  suster  deere. 

And  ye  schullen  bothe  anon  unto  me  swere, 

That  never  ye  schullen  my  corowne  dere, 

Ne  make  werre  on  me  night  ne  day, 

But  be  my  freendes  in  alle  that  ye  may. 

I  you  forgeve  this  trespas  every  dele." 

And  they  him  swore  his  axyng  fayre  and  wele, 

And  him  of  lordschip  and  of  mercy  prayde, 


1S17. — And  sythen  that.     Taken  literally  from  the  Teseide, — 
Ma  pero  chc  gia  inamorato  fui, 
E  per  amor  sovente  folegiai, 
M'e  caro  molto  il  perdonare  altrui. 
1828. — fayrc  and  wcle.     The  MS.  Harl.  reads  every  dele,  evidently  a 
mere  blundering  repetition  by  the  scribe  of  the  conclusion  of  the  preced- 
ing line. 


THE    KNIGHTiSS    TALE.  75 

And  he  hem  graunted  mercy,  and  thus  he  sayde:  1830 
;  To  speke  of  real  lynage  and  riches, 
Though  that  sche  were  a  queen  or  a  prynces, 
Ilk  of  yow  bothe  is  worthy  douteles 
To  wedde  when  tyme  is,  but  natheles 
I  speke  as  for  my  suster  Emelye, 
For  whom  ye  have  this  stryf  and  jelousye, 
Ye  woot  youreself  sche  may  not  wedde  two 
At  oones,  though  ye  faughten  ever  mo : 
That  oon  of  yow,  or  be  him  loth  or  leef, 
He  may  go  pypen  in  an  ivy  leef:  !840 

This  is  to  say,  sche  may  nought  have  bothe, 
Al  be  ye  never  so  jelous,  ne  so  lothe. 
For-thy  I  put  you  bothe  in  this  degre, 
That  ilk  of  you  schal  have  his  destyne, 
As  him  is  schape,  and  herken  in  what  wyse ; 
Lo  here  your  ende  of  that  I  schal  devyse. 
My  wil  is  this,  for  playn  conclusioun, 
Withouten  eny  repplicacioun, 
If  that  you  liketh,  tak  it  for  the  best, 
That  every  of  you  schal  go  wher  him  lest  1850 

Frely  withouten  raunsoun  or  daungeer; 
And  this  day  fyfty  wykes,  fer  ne  neer, 
Everich  of  you  schal  bryng  an  hundred  knightes, 
Armed  for  lystes  up  at  alle  rightes 
Al  redy  to  derayne  hir  by  batayle. 
And  thus  byhote  I  you  withouten  I'm \  !<• 
Upon  my  trouthe,  and  as  I  am  a  knight. 
That  whethir  of  yow  bothe  that  hath  might, 


76  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

This  is  to  seyn,  that  whethir  he  or  thou 
May  with  his  hundred,  as  I  spak  of  now,  I860 

Sle  his  contrary,  or  out  of  lystes  dryve, 
Him  schal  I  geve  Emelye  to  wyve,  • 
To  whom  that  fortune  geveth  so  fair  a  grace. 
The  lyste  schal  I  make  in  this  place, 
And  God  so  wisly  on  my  sowle  rewe, 
As  I  schal  even  juge  ben  and  trewe. 
Ye  schul  non  othir  ende  with  me  make, 
That  oon  of  yow  schal  be  deed  or  take. 
And  if  you  thinketh  this  is  wel  i-sayde, 
Say  youre  avys,  and  holdeth  yow  apayde.  1870 

This  is  youre  ende,  and  youre  conclusioun/' 
Who  loketh  lightly  now  but  Palamoun  ? 
Who  spryngeth  up  for  joye  but  Arcite? 
Who  couthe  telle,  or  who  couthe  endite, 
The  joye  that  is  made  in  this  place 
Whan  Theseus  hath  don  so  fair  a  grace? 
But  clown  on  knees  wente  every  wight, 
And  thanked  him  with  al  here  hertes  might, 
And  namely  the  Thebanes  ofte  sithe. 
And  thus  with  good  hope  and  herte  blithe  1880 

They  taken  here  leve,  and  hom-ward  they  rydo 
To  Thebes-ward,  with  olde  walles  wyde. 
I  trow  men  wolde  it  deme  necligence, 
If  I  forgete  to  telle  the  dispence 
Of  Theseus,  that  goth  so  busily 


1882. — I  have  added  ward  (which  has  evidently  been  omitted  by  t In- 
scribe of  the  MS.  Hail.)  from  one  of  the  Cambridge  MSS. 


THE   KNIGHTES    TALE.  77 

To  maken  up  the  lystes  rially. 

And  such  a  noble  theatre  as  it  was, 

I  dar  wel  say  that  in  this  world  ther  nas. 

The  circuite  ther  was  a  myle  aboute, 

Walled  of  stoon,  and  dyched  al  withoute.  1890 

Round  was  the  schap,  in  maner  of  conipaas, 

Ful  of  degre,  the  height  of  sixty  paas, 

That  whan  a  man  was  set  in  o  degre 

He  letted  nought  his  felaw  for  to  se. 

Est-ward  ther  stood  a  gate  of  marbul  whit, 
West-ward  such  another  in  oviposit. 
And  schortly  to  conclude,  such  a  place 
Was  non  in  erthe,  in  so  litel  space. 
In  al  the  lond  ther  nas  no  craftys  man, 
That  geometry  or  arsmetrike  can,  1900 

Ne  portreyour,  ne  kerver  of  ymages, 
That  Theseus  ne  gaf  hem  mete  and  wages 
The  theatre  for  to  maken  and  devyse. 
And  for  to  don  his  right  and  sacrifise, 
He  est-ward  hath  upon  the  gate  above, 
In  worschip  of  Venus  goddes  of  love, 
Don  make  an  auter  and  an  oratory  ; 
And  west-ward  in  the  mynde  and  in  memory 
Of  Mars,  he  hath  i-maked  such  another, 
That  coste  largely  of  gold  a  fother.  1910 

And  north-ward,  in  a  toret  on  the  walle, 
Of  alabaster  whit,  and  reed  coralle 

1903. — In  all  this  description  of  the  arena,  there  is  a  singular  nindifi 
cation  of  the  idea  of  an  ancient  amphitheatre,  by  clothing  it  in  the  de- 
scription of  a  medieval  tournament  scene. 


78  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

An  oratory  riche  for  to  see, 

In  worschip  of  Dyane,  goddes  of  chastite, 

Hath  Theseus  i-wrought  in  noble  wise. 

But  yit  had  I  forgeten  to  devyse 

The  nobil  kervyng,  and  the  purtretures, 

The  schap,  the  contynaunce  of  the  figures, 

That  weren  in  these  oratories  thre. 

Furst  in  the  temple  of  Venus  thou  may  se       1920 
Wrought  in  the  wal,  ful  pitous  to  byholde, 
The  broken  slepes,  and  the  sykes  colde  ; 
The  sacred  teeres,  and  the  waymentyng; 
The  fuyry  strokes  of  the  desiryng, 
That  loves  servauntz  in  thy  lyf  enduren  ; 
The  othes,  that  by  her  covenantz  assuren. 
Plesance  and  hope,  desyr,  fool-hardynesse, 
Beaute  and  youthe,  baudery  and  richesse, 
Charmes  and  sorcery,  lesynges  and  flatery, 
Dispense,  busynes,  and  jelousy,  1930 

That  werud  of  yolo  guides  a  gerland, 
And  a  cukkow  sittyng  on  hire  hand  ; 
Festes,  instrumentz,  carols,  and  daunces, 
Lust  and  array,  and  al  the  circumstaunces 
Of  love,  which  I  rekned  and  reken  schal, 
Ech  by  other  were  peynted  on  the  wal, 
And  mo  than  I  can  make  of  mencioun. 
For  sothly  al  the  mount  of  Setheroun, 

J  929. — sorcery.  This  reading,  supporter!  by  several  MSS.,  is  certainly 
superior  to  Tyrwhitt's  force,  which  perhaps  only  arose  from  misreading 
the  abbreviation,  force.  Sorcery  was  considered  one  of  the  most  effective 
modes  of  procuring  love. 

1938. — Setheroun.     Cytheron. 


THE.    KNIGHTES    TALE.  71) 

Ther  Venus  hath  hir  principal  dwellyng, 

Was  schewed  on  the  wal  here  portrayng,  1940 

With  alle  the  gardyn,  and  al  the  lustynes. 

Nought  was  forgete  the  porter  Ydelnes, 

Ne  Narcisus  the  fayr  of  yore  agon, 

Ne  yet  the  foly  of  kyng  Salamon, 

Ne  eek  the  grete  strengthe  of  Hercules, 

Thenchauntementz  of  Medea  and  Cerces, 

Ne  of  Turnus  the  hard  fuyry  corage, 

The  riche  Cresus  caytif  in  servage. 

Thus  may  we  see,  that  wisdom  and  riches, 

Beaute  ne  sleight,  strengthe  ne  hardynes,  19/50 

Ne  may  with  Venus  holde  champartye, 

For  as  sche  luste  the  world  than  may  sche  gye. 

Lo,  all  this  folk  i-caught  were  in  hire  trace, 

Til  thay  for  wo  ful  often  sayde  alias. 

Sufficeth  this  ensample  oon  or  tuo, 

And  though  I  couthe  reken  a  thousend  mo. 

The  statu  of  Venus  glorious  for  to  see 

Was  naked  fletyng  in  the  large  sec, 

And  fro  the  navel  doun  all  covered  was 

With  wawes  grene,  and  bright  as  eny  glas.  I960 

A  citole  in  hire  right  hond  hadde  sche, 

And  on  hir  heed,  ful  semely  on  to  see, 

A  rose  garland  ful  swete,  and  wel  smellyng, 

And  aboven  hire  heed  dowves  fleyng. 

Bifom  hir  stood  hir  sone  Cupido, 

Upon  his  schuldres  were  wynges  two; 

And  blynd  he  was,  as  it  is  often  scene; 


30  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

A  bowe  he  bar  and  arwes  fair  and  greene. 

Why  schuld  I  nought  as  wel  telle  you  alle 
The  portraiture,  that  was  upon  the  walle  1970 

Within  the  temple  of  mighty  Mars  the  reede  ? 
Al  peynted  was  the  wal  in  length  and  breede 
Like  to  the  estres  of  the  grisly  place, 
That  bight  the  gret  tempul  of  Mars  in  Trace, 
In  that  colde  and  frosty  regioun, 
Ther  as  Mars  hath  his  sovereyn  mancioun. 
First  on  the  wal  was  peynted  a  foreste, 
In  which  ther  dwelled  neyther  man  ne  beste, 
With  knotty  knarry  bareyn  trees  olde 
Of  stubbes  scharpe  and  hidous  to  byholde ;  1980 

In  which  ther  ran  a  swymbul  in  a  swough, 
As  it  were  a  storme  schuld  berst  every  bough: 
And  downward  on  an  hil  under  a  bent, 
Ther  stood  the  tempul  of  Marz  armypotent, 
Wrought  al  of  burned  steel,  of  which  thentre 
Was  long  and  streyt,  and  gastly  for  to  see. 
And  therout  cam  a  rage  and  suche  a  prise, 
That  it  maad  al  the  gates  for  to  rise. 
The  northen  light  in  at  the  dore  schon, 


1968. — greene.     So  the  Harl.  MS.     Others  read  schene,  and  Jeene-,  the 
latter  of  which  is  perhaps  the  hest. 

1977. —  "1  shall  throw  together  a  few  lines  of   the  Teseide,   which 
Chaucer  has  plainly  copied  in  this  description"  (Tyrivhitl) —      '  .^ 

Ne  v'era  hestia  ancora  ne  pastore... 
Cerri...nodosi,  aspri,  rigidi,  e  vetusli... 
E  le  porte  eran  de  eterno  adamante 
Ferrato  d'ogni  parte  tutte  quante. 
1981. — a  swymbul.    This  reading  of  IMS  Harl.,  is  supported  by  other 
MSS.     Tvnvhitt,  with  some  MSS.,  has  a  rumble  and  a  swough. 


THE    KNIGHTES    TALK.  81 

For  wyndow  on  the  walle  no  was  ther  noon,         *99° 

Thorugh  the  which  men  might  no  light  discerne. 

The  dores  wer  alle  ademauntz  eteme, 

I-clenched  overthward  and  endelong 

With  iren  tough  ;  and,  for  to  make  it  strong, 

Every  piler  the  tempul  to  susteene 

Was  tonne  greet,  of  iren  bright  and  schene. 

Ther  saugh  I  furst  the  derk  ymaginyng 

Of  felony,  and  al  the  compassyng  ; 

The  cruel  ire,  as  reed  as  eny  gleede ; 

The  pikepurs,  and  eek  the  pale  drede  ;  2000 

The  smyler  with  the  knyf  under  his  cloke  ; 

The  schipne  brennyng  with  the  blake  smoke1 ; 

The  tresoun  of  the  murtheryng  in  the  bed ; 

The  open  werres,  with  woundes  al  bi-bled ; 

Contek  with  bloody  knyf,  and  scharp  manacc. 

Al  ful  of  chirkyng  was  that  sory  place. 

The  sleer  of  himself  yet  saugh  I  there, 

His  herte-blood  hath  bathed  al  his  here ; 

The  nayl  y-dryve  in  the  schodo  a-nyght ; 

The  colde  deth,  with  mouth  gapyng  upright.         2010 

Amyddes  of  the  tempul  set  mischaunce, 

With  sory  comfort  and  evel  contynaunce. 

I  saugh  woodnes  laughyng  in  his  rage ; 


2000. — pikepurs.  The  pikepursea  were,  I  believe,  the  plunderers  who 
followed  the  army,  and  their  introduction  here  is  not  so  inappropriate  as 
Tyrwhitt  seemed  to  think. 

2005. — contek.  I  have  kept  Tyrwhitt's  reading,  supported  by  most  of 
the  MSS.     The  Hail.  MS.  reads  huttud,  evidently  by  error. 

2013. — Tyrwhitt,  with  most  of  the  MSS.,  has  Yet  saw  I  woodnesse 
laughing  in  hit  rage,  which  is  perhaps  the  correct  reading.  The  Ms. 
Harl.  reads  woundes  for  wodnes,  and  here  rage, 

G 


82  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

The  hunt  strangled  with  wikle  bores  corage ; 
[The  caroigne  in  the  busshe,  with  throte  y-corve ; 
A  thousand  slaine,  and  not  of  qualme  y-storve ; 
The  tiraunte,  with  the  preye  by  force  y-raft ; 
The  toun  destroied,  ther  was  no  thynge  laft. 
Yet  sawgb  I  brente  the  schippes  hoppesteres ; 
The  hunte  strangled  with  the  wilde  beres:]  2020 

The  sowe  freten  the  child  right  in  the  cradel ; 
The  cook  i-skalded,  for  al  his  longe  ladel. 
Nought  beth  forgeten  the  infortune  of  Mart ; 
The  carter  over-ryden  with  his  cart, 
Under  the  whel  ful  lowe  he  lay  adoun. 


2015 — 2020. — These  lines,  given  here  from  Tyrwhitt,  are  omitted  in 
MS.  Harl.,  and  in  some  of  the  other  MSS.  I  have  corrected  Tyrwhitt's 
orthography  by  the  best  of  the  two  Cambridge  MSS. 

2023. — infortune  of  Mart.  Tyrwhitt  thinks  that  Chancer  might  in- 
tend to  be  satirical  in  these  lines,  but  the  introduction  of  such  apparently 
undignified  incidents  arose  from  the  confusion  already  mentioned  of  the 
god  of  war  with  the  planet  to  which  his  name  was  given,  and  the  in- 
fluence of  which  was  supposed  to  produce  all  the  disasters  here  men- 
tioned. The  following  extract  from  the  "  Compost  of  Ptholomeus," 
already  quoted,  gives  some  of  the  supposed  effects  of  Mars.  "  Under 
Mars  is  borne  theves  and  robbers  that  kepe  hye  wayes,  and  do  hurte  to 
true  men,  and  nyght  walkers,  and  quarell  pykers,  bosters,  mockers,  and 
skoflers,  and  these  men  of  Mars  causeth  warre  and  murther,  and  batayle, 
they  wyll  be  gladly  smythcs  or  workers  of  yron,  lyght  fyngred,  and  lyers, 
gret  swerers  of  othes  in  vengeable  wyse,  and  a  great  surmyler  and  crafty. 
He  is  red  and  angry,  with  blacke  heer,  and  lytell  iyen,  he  shall  be  a 
great  walker,  and  a  maker  of  swordes  and  knyves,  and  a  sheder  of 
mannes  blode,  and  a  fornycatour,  and  a  speker  of  rybawdry . .  .  .and  good 
to  be  a  barboure  and  a  blode  letter,  and  to  drawe  tethe,  and  is  peryllous 
of  his  handes."  The  following  extract  is  from  an  old  astrological  book 
of  the  sixteenth  century : — "  Mars  denoteth  men  with  red  faces  and  the 
skinne  redde,  the  face  round,  the  eyes  yellow,  horrible  to  behold,  furious 
men,  cruell,  desperate,  proude,  sedicious,  souldiers,  captaines,  smythcs, 
colliers,  bakers,  alcumistes,  armourers,  furnishers,  butchers,  chirurgions, 
barbers,  sargiants,  and  hangmen,  according  as  they  shal  be  well  or  evill 
disposed." 


THE    KNIGHTES    TALE.  83 

Ther  were  also  of  Martz  divisioun, 

The  barbour,  and  the  bowcher,  and  the  smyth, 

Tliat  forgeth  scharpe  swerdes  on  his  stith. 

And  al  above  depeynted  in  a  tour 

Saw  I  conquest,  sittyng  in  gret  honour,  2030 

With  the  scharpe  swerd  over  his  heed 

Hangynge  by  a  sotil  twyne  threed. 

Depeynted  was  ther  the  slaught  of  Julius, 

Of  grete  Nero,  and  of  Anthonius  : 

Al  be  that  ilke  tyme  they  were  unborn, 

Yet  was  here  deth  depeynted  ther  byforn, 

By  manasyng  of  Martz,  right  by  figure. 

So  was  it  schewed  right  in  the  purtreture 

As  is  depeynted  in  sterres  above, 

Who  schal  be  slayn  or  elles  deed  for  love.  204° 

Sufficeth  oon  ensample  in  stories  olde, 

I  may  not  reken  hem  alle,  though  I  wolde. 

The  statue  of  Mars  upon  a  carte  stood, 
Armed,  and  loked  grym  as  he  were  wood ; 
And  over  his  heed  ther  schyneth  two  figures 
Of  sterres,  that  been  cleped  in  scriptures, 
That  oon  Puella,  that  othur  Rubius. 
This  god  of  armes  was  arayed  thus : 
A  wolf  ther  stood  byforn  him  at  his  feet 


2027. — Tyrwhitt  has  altered  this  line  to  Th  armcrcr,  and  the  powyer, 
and  the  smith.  The  barber  and  butcher,  as  well  as  the  smith,  were  under 
the  iniluence  of  Mars.     See  the  extracts  in  the  last  note. 

2039. — in  sterres.  It  was  supposed  by  astrologers  that  every  man's 
fortunes  were  depicted  in  the  stars  from  the  beginning  of  the  world. 
Other  MSS.,  with  Tyrwhitt,  read  circles. 

2042.— This  line  is  left  blank  in  MS.  Hail. 

G2 


84  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

With  eyen  reed,  and  of  a  man  he  eet:  2050 

With  sotyl  pencel  depeynted  was  this  storie, 
In  redoutyng  of  Mars  and  of  his  glorie. 

Now  to  the  temple  of  Dyane  the  chaste 
As  schortly  as  I  can  I  wol  me  haste, 
To  telle  you  al  the  descripcioun. 
Depeynted  hen  the  walles  up  and  doun, 
Of  himtyng  and  of  schamefast  chastite. 
Ther  saugh  I  how  woful  Calystope, 
Whan  that  Dyane  was  agreved  with  here, 
Was  turned  from  a  womman  to  a  here,  2060 

And  after  was  sche  maad  the  loode-sterre : 
Thus  was  it  peynted,  I  can  say  no  ferre ; 
Hire  son  is  eek  a  sterre,  as  men  may  see. 
Ther  sawgh  I  Dyane  turned  intil  a  tree, 
I  mene  nought  the  goddes  Dyane, 
But  Peneus  doughter,  the  whiche  hight  Dane. 
Ther  saugh  I  Atheon  an  hei*t  i-maked, 
For  vengance  that  he  saugh  Dyane  al  naked  : 
I  saugh  how  that  his  houndes  han  him  caught, 
And  freten  him,  for  that  they  knew  him  naught.  2070 
Yit  i-peynted  was  a  litel  forthermore, 
How  Atthalaunce  huntyd  the  wilde  hore, 
And  Melyagre,  and  many  another  mo, 
For  which  Dyane  wrought  hem  care  and  woo. 
Ther  saugh  I  eek  many  another  story, 
The  which  me  list  not  drawe  to  memory. 


2003. — a  sterre.     The  Had  MS.  reads,  by  an  evident  mistake,  is  eek 

aftir  an  men  viiii/  sir. 


THE    KNIGHTES    TALE.  85 

This  goddes  on  an  hert  ful  hye  seet, 

With  smale  houndes  al  aboute  liire  feet, 

And  underuethe  hir  feet  sche  had  the  moone, 

Wexyng  it  was,  and  schulde  wane  soone.  2080 

In  gaude  greene  hire  statue  clothed  was, 

With  bowe  in  hande,  and  arwes  in  a  cas. 

Hir  eyghen  caste  sche  ful  lowe  adoun, 

Ther  Pluto  hath  his  derke  regioun. 

A  womman  travailyng  was  hire  biforn, 

But  for  hire  child  so  longe  was  unborn 

Ful  pitously  Lucyna  gan  sche  calle, 

And  seyde;  "  Help,  for  thou  mayst  best  of  alle." 

Wei  couthe  he  peynte  lyfly  that  it  wrought, 

With  many  a  floren  he  the  hewes  bought.  2090 

Now  been  thise  listes  maad,  and  Theseus 
That  at  his  grete  cost  arayed  thus 
The  temples  and  the  theatres  every  del, 
Whan  it  was  don,  it  liked  him  right  wel. 
But  stynt  I  wil  of  Theseus  a  lite, 
And  speke  of  Palamon  and  of  Arcite. 

The  day  approcheth  of  her  attournyng, 
That  every  schuld  an  hundred  knightes  bryng, 
The  batail  to  derreyne,  as  I  you  tolde ; 
And  til  Athenes,  her  covenant  to  holde,  2100 

Hath  every  of  hem  brought  an  hundred  knightes, 
Wel  armed  for  the  werre  at  alle  rightes. 
And  sikerly  ther  trowed  many  a  man. 
That  never,  siththen  that  this  world  lii<^;in 
For  to  speke  of  knighthod  of  her  bond, 


86  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

As  fer  as  God  hath  maked  see  or  lond, 

Nas,  of  so  fewe,  so  good  a  company. 

For  eveiy  wight  that  loveth  chyvalry, 

And  wold,  his  thankes,  have  a  passant  name, 

Hath  preyed  that  he  might  be  of  that  game  ;       2110 

And  wel  was  him,  that  therto  chosen  was. 

For  if  ther  felle  to  rnorwe  such  a  caas, 

I  knowe  wel,  that  every  lusty  knight, 

That  loveth  paramours,  and  hath  his  might, 

Were  it  in  Engelond,  or  elleswhere, 

They  wold,  here  thankes,  wilne  to  be  there. 

To  fighte  for  a  lady ;  henedicite ! 

It  were  a  lusty  sighte  for  to  see. 

And  right  so  ferden  they  with  Palamon. 

With  him  ther  wente  knyghtes  many  oon :  2120 

Some  wol  ben  armed  in  an  haburgoun, 

In  a  bright  brest  plat  and  a  gypoun; 

And  som  wold  have  a  peyre  plates  large ; 

And  som  wold  have  a  Pruce  scheld,  or  a  targe ; 

Som  wol  been  armed  on  here  legges  weel, 

And  have  an  ax,  and  eek  a  mace  of  steel. 

Ther  nys  no  newe  gyse,  that  it  nas  old. 

Armed  were  they,  as  I  have  you  told, 

Everich  after  his  owen  opinioun. 

Ther  maistow  se  comyng  with  Palamoun  2130 

Ligurge  himself,  the  grete  kyng  of  Trace  : 
Blak  was  his  berd,  and  manly  was  his  face. 


2124.— Pruce.     This  is  the  reading  of  most  of  the  MSS.     The  MS. 
Harl.  has  prys. 


THE    KNIGHTES    TALE.  87 

The  cercles  of  his  eyen  in  his  heed 

They  gloweden  bytwixe  yolw  and  reed, 

And  lit  a  griffoun  loked  he  aboute, 

With  kempe  heres  on  his  browes  stowte; 

His  lymes  greet,  his  brawnes  hard  and  stronge, 

His  schuldres  brood,  his  amies  rounde  and  longe. 

And  as  the  gyse  was  in  his  contre, 

Ful  heye  upon  a  chare  of  gold  stood  he,  2140 

With  foure  white  boles  in  a  trays. 

In  stede  of  cote  armour  in  his  hamays, 

With  nayles  yolwe,  and  bright  as  eny  gold, 

He  had  a  here  skyn,  cole-blak  for  old. 

His  lange  heer  y-kempt  byhynd  his  bak, 

As  eny  raven  fether  it  schon  for  blak. 

A  wrethe  of  gold  arm-gret,  and  huge  of  wight, 

Upon  his  heed,  set  ful  of  stoones  bright, 

Of  fyne  rubeus  and  of  fyn  dyamauutz. 

Aboute  his  chare  wente  white  alaunz,  2150 

Twenty  and  mo,  as  grete  as  eny  stere, 

To  hunte  at  the  lyoun  or  at  the  bere, 

And  folwed  him,  with  mosel  fast  i-bounde, 

Colerd  with  golde,  and  torettes  fyled  rounde. 

An  hundred  lordes  had  he  in  his  route 

Armed  ful  wel,  with  hertes  stern  and  stoute. 

With  Arcita,  in  stories  as  men  fynde, 
The  gret  Emetreus,  the  kyng  of  Ynde, 
Uppon  a  steede  bay,  trapped  in  steel, 
Covered  witli  cloth  and  of  gold  dyapred  wel,         2160 
Cam  rydyng  lyk  the  god  of  amies  Mars. 


Ob  THE    CANTEEBUEY    TALES. 

His  coote  armour  was  of  a  cloth  of  Tars, 

Cowched  of  perlys  whyte,  round  and  grete. 

His  sadil  was  of  brend  gold  newe  bete  ; 

A  mantelet  upon  bis  scbuldre  bangyng 

Bret-ful  of  rubies  reed,  as  fir  sparclyng. 

His  crispe  her  lik  rynges  was  i-ronne, 

And  that  was  yalwe,  and  gliteryng  as  the  sonne. 

His  nose  was  heigh,  his  eyen  were  cytryne, 

His  lippes  rounde,  his  colour  was  sangwyn,  2170 

A  fewe  freknes  in  his  face  y-spreynd, 

Betwixe  yolwe  and  somdel  blak  y-meynd, 

And  as  a  lyoun  he  his  lokyng  caste. 

Of  fyve  and  twenty  veer  his  age  I  caste. 

His  herd  was  wel  bygonne  for  to  sprynge ; 

His  voys  was  as  a  trumpe  thunderynge. 

Upon  his  heed  he  wered  of  laurer  grene 

A  garlond  freisch  and  lusty  for  to  sene. 

Upon  his  bond  he  bar  for  his  delyt 

An  cgle  tame,  as  eny  lylie  whyt.  2 1 80 

An  hundred  lordes  had  he  with  him  ther, 

Al  armed  sauf  here  hedes  in  here  ger, 

Ful  richely  in  alle  maner  thinges. 

For  trusteth  wel,  that  dukes,  erles,  kynges 

Were  gadred  in  this  noble  companye, 

For  love,  and  for  encres  of  chivalrve. 

Aboute  the  kyng  ther  ran  on  every  part 

Ful  many  a  tame  lyoun  and  lepart. 

2162. — cloth  of  Tom.  A  kind  of  silk,  said  to  be  the  same  as  in  other 
places  is  called  Tartarine  (lartarinwm),  but  the  exact  derivation  ol  which 
appears  to  tie  somewhat  uncertain. 


THE    KNIGHTES    TALE.  by 

And  in  this  wise,  thes  lordes  alle  and  some 

Been  on  the  Sonday  to  the  cite  come  2190 

Ahoute  prime,  and  in  the  toun  alight. 

This  Theseus,  this  duk,  this  worthy  knight, 

Whan  he  had  brought  hem  into  Ins  cite, 

And  ynned  hem,  everich  at  his  degre, 

He  festeth  hem,  and  doth  so  gret  labour 

To  esen  hem,  and  do  hem  al  honour, 

That  yit  men  wene  that  no  mannes  wyt 

Of  non  estat  that  cowde  amenden  it. 

The  mynstralcye,  the  servyce  at  the  feste, 

The  grete  giftes  to  the  most  and  leste,  2200 

The  riche  aray  of  Theseus  paleys, 

Ne  who  sat  first  ne  last  upon  the  deys, 

What  ladies  fayrest  ben  or  best  daunsyng, 

Or  which  of  hem  can  daunce  best  or  sing, 

Ne  who  most  felyngly  speketh  of  love ; 

What  haukes  sitten  on  the  perche  above, 

What  houndes  lyen  in  the  floor  adoun, 

Of  al  this  make  I  now  no  mencioun  ; 

But  of  theffect ;  that  thinketh  me  the  beste ; 

Now  comth  the  poynt,  and  herkneth  if  you  leste.  2210 

The  Sonday  night,  or  day  bigan  to  springe, 
When  Palamon  the  larke  herde  synge, 
Although  it  were  nought  day  by  hourcs  tuo, 
Yit  sang  the  larke,  and  Palamon  also 
With  holy  hertc,  and  with  an  heih  corage 
He  roos,  to  wenden  on  his  pilgrymage 

Q'20\.— Theseus  palei/s.      The  IMS.  Hail,  reads  oj  Thelns  his  paleys. 


90  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Unto  the  blisful  Cithera  benigne, 

I  inene  Venus,  honorable  and  cligne. 

And  in  hire  hour,  he  walketh  forth  a  paas 

Unto  the  lystes,  ther  hir  temple  was,  2220 

And  doun  he  kneleth,  and  with  humble  cheer 

And  herte  sore,  he  seide  as  ye  schal  heer. 

"  Fairest  of  faire,  0  lady  myn  Venus, 
Doughter  of  Jove,  and  spouse  to  Vulcanus, 
Thou  glacier  of  the  mount  of  Citheroun, 
For  thilke  love  thou  haddest  to  Adeoun 
Have  pite  on  my  bitter  teeres  smerte, 


2219. — And  in  hire  hour.  "  I  cannot  better  illustrate  Chaucer's  astro 
logy  than  by  a  quotation  from  the  old  Kalendrier  de  Bergiers,  Edit. 
1500,  sign.  K.  ii.  b.  Qui  veult  savoir  comme  bergiers  scevent  quel 
planete  regne  chascune  heure  du  jour  et  de  la  nuit,  doit  savoir  la  planete 
du  jour  qui  veult  s'enquerir ;  et  la  premiere  heure  temporelle  du  soleil 
levant  ce  jour  est  pour  celluy  planete,  la  seconde  heure  est  pour  la  planete 
ensuivant,  etla  tierce  pour  V autre,  &c.  in  the  following  order,  viz.  Saturn, 
Jupiter,  Mars,  Sol,  Venus,  Mercury,  Luna.  To  apply  this  doctrine  to 
the  present  case.  The  first  hour  of  the  Sunday,  reckoning  from  sun-rise, 
belonged  to  the  Sun,  the  planet  of  the  day ;  the  second  to  Venus,  the 
third  to  Mercury,  &c.  and  continuing  this  method  of  allotment,  we  shall 
find  that  the  twenty-second  hour  also  belonged  to  the  Sun,  and  tho 
twenty-third  to  Venus  ;  so  that  the  hour  of  Venus,  really  was,  as  Chaucer 
says,  two  hours  before  sun-rise  of  the  following  day.  Accordingly  we  are 
told  in  ver.  2273,  that  the  third  hour  after  Palamon  set  out  for  the  temple 
of  Venus,  the  Sun  rose,  and  Emelie  began  to  go  to  the  temple  of  Diane. 
It  is  not  said,  that  this  was  the  hour  of  Diane,  or  the  Moon,  but  it  really 
was,  for,  as  we  have  just  seen,  the  twenty-third  hour  of  Sunday  belonging 
to  Venus,  the  twenty-fourth  must  be  given  to  Mercury,  and  the  first  hour 
of  Monday  falls  in  course  to  the  Moon,  the  presiding  planet  of  that  day. 
After  this  Arcite  is  described  as  walking  to  the  temple  of  Mars,  ver. 
2369,  in  the  nexte  houre  of  Mars,  that  is,  the  fourth  hour  of  the  day. 
It  is  necessary  to  take  these  words  together,  for  the  nexte  houre,  singly, 
would  signify  the  second  hour  of  the  day ;  but  that,  according  to  the 
rule  of  rotation  mentioned  above,  belonged  to  Saturn,  as  the  third  did  to 
Jupiter.  The  fourth  was  the  nexte  houre  of  Mars,  that  occurred  after 
the  hour  last  named." — Tyrwhitl. 

2223. — Fairest  of  faire.     The  MS.  Harl.  reads  fairest,  O  fairest. 


THE    KNIGHTES    TAJLE.  91 

And  tak  myn  humble  prayer  to  thin  herte. 

Alias !  I  ne  have  no  langage  for  to  telle 

Theffectes  ne  the  tormentz  of  myn  helle ;  2230 

Myn  herte  may  myn  harmes  nat  bewreye ; 

I  am  so  confus,  that  I  may  not  seye. 

But  mercy,  lady  bright,  that  knowest  wel 

My  thought,  and  felest  what  harm  that  I  fel, 

Consider  al  this,  and  rew  upon  my  sore, 

As  wisly  as  I  schal  for  evermore 

Enforce  my  might  tlii  trewe  servant  to  be, 

And  holde  werre  alday  with  chastite  : 

That  make  I  myn  avow,  so  ye  me  helpe. 

I  kepe  nat  of  amies  for  to  yelpe,  2240 

Ne  nat  I  aske  to  morn  to  have  victorie, 

Ne  renoun  in  this  caas,  ne  veyne  glorie 

Of  pris  of  armes,  blowyng  up  and  doun, 

But  I  wolde  have  ful  possessioun 

Of  Emelye,  and  dye  in  thi  servise  ; 

Fynd  thou  the  maner  how,  and  in  what  wyse. 

I  recche  nat,  but  it  may  better  be, 

To  have  victorie  of  him,  or  he  of  me, 

So  that  I  have  my  lady  in  myn  armes. 

For  though  so  be  that  Mars  be  god  of  armes,       2250 

And  ye  be  Venus,  the  goddes  of  love, 

Youre  vertu  is  so  gret  in  heven  above, 

Thy  temple  wol  I  worschipe  evermo, 

And  on  thin  auter,  wher  I  ryde  or  go, 

I  wol  do  sacrifice,  and  Ivies  bcete. 

And  if  ye  wol  nat  so,  my  lady  swcete, 


92  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Than  pray  I  the,  to  morwe  with  a  spere 

That  Arcita  me  thurgh  the  herte  here. 

Thanne  rekke  I  nat,  whan  I  have  lost  my  lyf, 

Though  that  Arcite  have  hir  to  his  wyf.  2260 

This  is  theffect  and  ende  of  my  prayere ; 

Gif  me  my  love,  thou  blisful  lady  deere." 

Whan  thorisoun  was  doon  of  Palamon, 

His  sacrifice  he  dede,  and  that  anoon 

Ful  pitously,  with  alle  circumstances, 

Al  telle  I  nat  as  now  his  observances. 

But  at  the  last  the  statu  of  Venus  schook, 

And  made  a  sigue,  wherby  that  he  took 

That  his  prayer  accepted  was  that  day. 

For  though  the  signe  schewed  a  delay,  2270 

Yet  wist  he  wel  that  graunted  was  his  boone  ; 

And  with  glad  herte  he  went  him  horn  ful  soone. 

The  thrid  hour  inequal  that  Palamon 
Bigan  to  Venus  temple  for  to  goon, 
Up  roos  the  sonne,  and  up  roos  Emelye, 
And  to  the  temple  of  Dian  gan  sche  hye. 
Hir  maydens,  that  sche  with  hir  thider  ladde, 
Ful  redily  with  hem  the  fyr  they  hadde, 
Thencens,  the  clothes,  and  the  remenant  al 
That  to  the  sacrifice  longen  schal.  2280 

The  homes  ful  of  meth,  as  is  the  gyse, 

2273. — The  thrid  hour  inequal.  "  In  the  astrological  system,  the 
day,  from  sun-rise  to  sun-set,  and  the  night,  from  sun-set  to  sun  rise,  being 
each  divided  into  xn  hours,  it  is  plain,  that  the  hours  of  the  day  and 
night  were  never  equal,  except  just  at  the  equinoxes.  The  hours  attri- 
buted to  the  planets  were  of  this  unequal  sort.  See  Kalendrier  de  Berg, 
loc.  fit.  and  our  author's  treatise  on  the  Astrolabe." — Tyrwhitl. 


THE   KNIGHTES   TALE.  93 

Ther  lakketh  nought  to  do  here  sacrifise. 

Smokyng  the  temple,  ful  of  clothes  faire, 

This  Ernelye  with  herte  clehonaire 

Hir  body  wessch  with  watir  of  a  welle  ; 

But  how  sche  dide  I  ne  dar  nat  telle, 

But  it  be  eny  thing  in  general ; 

And  yet  it  were  a  game  to  here  it  al ; 

To  him  that  meneth  wel  it  were  no  charge : 

But  it  is  good  a  man  be  at  his  large.  2290 

Hir  brighte  her  was  kempt,  untressed  al ; 

A  corone  of  a  grene  ok  cerial 

Upon  hir  heed  was  set  ful  fair  and  meete. 

Tuo  fyres  on  the  auter  gan  sche  beete, 

And  did  hir  thinges,  as  men  may  biholde 

In  Stace  of  Thebes  and  the  bokes  olde. 

Whan  kynled  was  the  fyre,  with  pitous  cheere 

Unto  Dyan  sche  spak,  as  ye  may  heere. 

"  O  chaste  goddes  of  the  woodes  greene, 
To  whom  bothe  heven  and  erthe  and  see  is  seene,    2300 
Queen  of  the  regne  of  Pluto,  derk  and  lowe, 
Goddes  of  maydenes,  that  myn  hert  has  knowe 
Ful  many  a  yeer,  ye  woot  what  I  desire, 
As  keep  me  fro  the  vengans  of  thilk  yre, 
That  Atheon  aboughte  trewely  : 
Chaste  goddesse,  wel  wost  thou  that  I 

2291. — brighte  her.     So  in  the  Teseide,  Emily  is  described  as — 

Diclio  cbe  i  suo  crin  parevan  d'oro, 

Non  con  trezza  rcstretti,  uiu  soluti 

E  pctiuati. 
2202. — a  corone.     Corona  di  querzia  cereale  — Teseide. 
2296.—  In  Stace  of  Thebes.    In  the  Thebaid  of  Statins. 


94  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Desire  to  ben  a  mayden  al  my  lyf, 
Ne  never  wol  I  be  no  love  ne  wyf. 
I  am,  thou  wost,  yit  of  thi  company, 
A  mayden,  and  love  huntyng  and  venery,  2310 

And  for  to  walken  in  the  woodes  wylde, 
And  nought  to  ben  a  wyf,  and  be  with  chylde. 
Nought  wol  I  knowe  the  company  of  man. 
Now  helpe  me  lady,  sy  times  ye  may  and  kan, 
For  the  thre  formes  that  thou  hast  in  the. 
And  Palamon,  that  hath  such  love  to  me, 
And  eek  Arcite,  that  loveth  me  so  sore, 
This  grace  I  praye  the  withouten  more, 
As  sende  love  and  pees  betwix  hem  two  : 
And  fro  me  torne  awey  here  hertes  so,  2320 

That  al  here  hoote  love,  and  here  desire, 
Al  here  besy  torment,  and  al  here  fyre 
Be  queynt,  or  turned  in  another  place. 
And  if  so  be  thou  wol  do  me  no  grace, 
Or  if  my  destyne  be  schapid  so, 
That  I  schal  needes  have  on  of  hem  two, 
So  send  me  him  that  most  desireth  me. 
Biholde,  goddes  of  clene  chastite, 
The  bitter  teeres,  that  on  my  cheekes  falle. 
Syn  thou  art  mayde,  and  keper  of  us  alle,  2330 

My  maydenhode  thou  kepe  and  wel  conserve, 
And  whil  I  lyve  a  mayde  I  wil  the  serve." 
The  fyres  bren  upon  the  auter  cleer, 


2315. — thre  formes.     The  MS.  Harl.,  probably  by  a  mistake  of  the 
scribe,  omits  the  wonl  litre. 


THE    KNIGHTES    TALE.  95 

Whil  Ernelye  was  in  hire  preyer : 

But  socleinly  sche  saugh  a  sighte  queynt, 

For  right  anon  on  of  the  fyres  queynt, 

And  quyked  agayn,  and  after  that  anon 

That  other  fyr  was  queynt,  and  al  agon : 

And  as  it  queynt,  it  made  a  whistelyug, 

As  doth  a  wete  brond  in  his  brennyng.  2340 

And  at  the  brondes  end  out  ran  anoon 

As  it  were  bloody  dropes  many  oon : 

For  which  so  sore  agast  was  Emelye, 

That  sche  was  wel  neih  mad,  and  gan  to  crie, 

For  sche  ne  wiste  what  it  signifyed ; 

But  oonely  for  feere  thus  sche  cryed, 

And  wepte,  that  it  was  pite  to  heere. 

And  therwithal  Dyane  gan  appeere, 

With  bow  in  hond,  right  as  a  hunteresse, 

And  seyd;  "A!  doughter,  stynt  thyn  hevynesse.  2350 

Among  the  goddes  hye  it  is  affermed, 

And  by  eterne  word  write  and  confermed, 

Thou  schalt  be  wedded  unto  oon  of  tho, 

That  have  for  the  so  moche  care  and  wo  : 

But  unto  which  of  hem  may  I  nat  telle. 

Farwel,  for  I  may  her  no  lenger  dwelle. 

The  fyres  which  that  on  myn  auter  bren, 

Schuln  the  declare,  or  that  thou  go  hen, 

Thyn  adventure  of  love,  and  in  this  caas." 

And  with  that  word,  the  arwes  in  the  caas  2360 

Of  the  goddesse  clatren  faste  and  rynge, 

And  forth  sche  went,  and  made  a  vanysschynge, 


96  THE    CANTERBURY   TALES. 

For  which  this  Eraelye  astoneyd  was, 
And  seicle,  "What  amounteth  this,  alias  ! 
I  put  me  under  thy  proteccioun, 
Dyane,  and  in  thi  disposicioun." 
And  hoom  sche  goth  anon  the  nexte  way. 
This  is  theffect,  ther  nys  no  mor  to  say. 

The  nexte  hour  of  Mars  folwynge  this, 
Arcite  to  the  temple  walkyd  is,  23"u 

To  fyiy  Mars  to  doon  his  sacrifise, 
With  al  the  rightes  of  his  payen  wise. 
With  pitous  herte  and  heih  devociouu, 
Right  thus  to  Mars  he  sayd  his  orisoun  : 
"  0  stronge  god.  that  in  the  reynes  cold 
Of  Trace  honoured  and  lord  art  y-hold, 
And  hast  in  every  regne  and  every  land 
Of  armes  al  the  bridel  in  thy  hand, 
And  hem  fortunest  as  the  lust  devyse, 
Accept  of  me  my  pitous  sacrifise.  2380 

If  so  he  that  my  youthe  may  deserve, 
And  that  my  might  be  worthi  for  to  serve 
Thy  godhed,  that  I  may  ben  on  of  thine, 
Then  pray  I  the  to  re  we  on  my  pyne, 
For  thilke  peyne,  and  that  hoote  fuyre, 
In  which  whilom  thou  brendest  for  desyre, 
Whan  that  thou  usedest  the  gret  bewte 
Of  faire  freissche  Venus,  that  is  so  free, 
And  haddest  hir  in  armes  at  thy  wille  : 


2375. — The  greater  part  of  this  prayer  is  taken  almost  literally  from 
the  Teseide. 


THE    KNTGHTES    TALE.  97 

And  though  the  ones  on  a  tyme  mysfille,  239° 

When  Vuleanus  had  caught  the  in  his  laas, 

And  fand  the  liggyng  by  his  wyf,  allaas  ! 

For  thilke  sorwe  that  was  in  thin  herte, 

Have  reuthe  as  wel  upon  my  peynes  smerte. 

I  am  yong  and  unkonnyng,  as  thou  wost, 

And,  as  I  trowe,  with  love  offendid  most, 

That  ever  was  eny  lyves  creature  : 

For  sche,  that  doth  me  al  tins  wo  endure, 

Ne  rekketh  never,  whether  I  synke  or  flete. 

And  wel  I  woot,  or  sche  me  mercy  heete,  240° 

I  moot  with  strengthe  wyn  hir  in  the  place : 

And  wel  I  wot,  withouten  help  or  grace 

Of  the,  ne  may  my  strengthe  nought  avayle. 

Then  help  me,  lord,  to  morn  in  my  hatayle, 

For  thilke  fyr  that  whilom  brende  the, 

As  wel  as  this  fire  now  brenneth  me ; 

And  do  to  morn  that  I  have  the  victorie. 

Myn  be  the  travail,  al  thin  be  the  glorie. 

Thy  soverein  tempul  wol  I  most  honouren 

Of  any  place,  and  alway  most  labouren  241° 

In  thy  plesaunce  and  in  thy  craftes  strong. 

And  in  thy  tempul  I  wol  my  baner  hong, 

And  alle  the  amies  of  my  companye, 

And  ever  more,  unto  that  day  I  dye, 

Eterae  fyr  I  wol  bifore  the  fynde. 

And  eek  to  this  avow  I  wol  me  bynde  : 

My  herd,  myn  heer  that  hangclh  longe  adoun, 

That  never  yit  ne  felt  offensiomi 

ii 


98  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Of  rasour  ne  of  scliere,  I  wol  thee  give, 

And  be  thy  trewe  servaunt  whiles  I  lyve.  2420 

Lord,  have  rowthe  uppon  my  sorwes  sore, 

Gif  me  the  victorie,  I  aske  no  more." 

The  preyer  stynt  of  Arcita  the  strange, 
The  rynges  on  the  tempul  dore  that  hange, 
And  eek  the  dores,  clatereden  ful  fast, 
Of  which  Arcita  somwhat  was  agast. 
The  fyres  brenden  on  the  auter  bright, 
That  it  gan  al  the  tempul  for  to  light ; 
A  swote  smel  anon  the  ground  up  gaf, 
And  Arcita  anon  his  hand  up  haf,  2430 

And  more  encens  into  the  fyr  yet  cast, 
With  othir  rightes,  and  than  atte  last 
The  statu  of  Mars  bigan  his  hauberk  ryng. 
And  with  that  soun  he  herd  a  murmuryng 
Ful  lowe  and  dym,  and  sayde  this,  "Victorie." 
For  which  he  gaf  to  Mars  honour  and  glorie. 
And  thus  with  joye,  and  hope  wel  to  fare, 
Arcite  anoon  unto  his  inne  is  fare, 
As  fayn  as  foul  is  of  the  brighte  sonne. 
And  right  anon  such  stryf  is  bygonne  2440 

For  that  grauntyng,  in  the  heven  above, 
Bitwix  Venus  the  goddes  of  love, 
And  Martz  the  sterne  god  armypotent, 
That  Jupiter  was  busy  it  to  stent : 
Til  that  the  pale  Saturates  the  colde, 
Tbat  knew  so  many  of  aventures  olde, 
Fond  in  bis  olde  experiens  an  art, 


THE    KNIGHTES    TALE.  99 

That  he  ful  sone  hath  plesyd  every  part. 

As  soth  is  sayd,  eelde  hath  gret  avantage, 

In  eelde  is  bothe  wisdom  and  usage :  2450 

Men  may  the  eelde  at-ren,  but  nat  at-rede. 

Saturne  anon,  to  stynte  stryf  and  drede, 

Al  be  it  that  it  be  agayns  his  kynde, 

Of  al  this  stryf  he  can  a  remedy  fynde. 
"My  deere  doughter  Venus,"  quod  Satourne, 
"  My  cours,  that  hath  so  wyde  for  to  toume, 

Hath  more  power  than  woot  eny  man. 

Myn  is  the  drenchyng  in  the  see  so  wan  ; 

Myn  is  the  prisoun  in  the  derke  cote ; 

Myn  is  the  stranglyng  and  hangyng  by  the  throte ;  2460 

The  murmur,  and  the  cherles  rebellyng ; 

The  groyning,  and  the  pryve  enpoysonyng. 

I  do  vengance  and  pleyn  correctioun, 

Whiles  I  dwelle  in  the  signe  of  the  lyoun. 

Myn  is  the  men  of  the  hihe  halles, 

The  fallyng  of  the  toures  and  the  walles 

Upon  the  mynour  or  the  carpenter : 

I  slowh  Sampsoun  in  schakyng  the  piler. 

And  myne  ben  the  maladies  colde, 

2453. — agayns  his  kynde.  According  to  the  "  Compost  of  Ptholomeus," 
Saturn  was  influential  in  producing  strife:  "  And  the  children  of  the 
sayd  Saturne  shall  be  great  jangeleres  and  chyders.  .  .  .  and  they  will 
never  forgyve  tyll  they  he  revenged  of  theyr  quarell." 

2150.  —My  cours.  The  course  of  the  planet  Saturn  See  the  next 
note. 

2457. — more  power.  The  "  Compost  of  Ptholomeus,"  quoted  above, 
says  of  Saturn  ;  "  he  is  mighty  of  hymself.  .  .  It  is  more  than  xxx  yere  or 
In-  may  ronne  his  course.  .  .  .  Whan  he  doth  reygne,  there  is  moche 
debate." 


100  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

The  derke  tresoun,  and  the  castes  olde  :  2470 

Myn  lokyng  is  the  fadir  of  pestilens. 

Now  wepe  noniore,  I  schal  do  my  diligence, 

That  Palamon,  that  is  myn  owen  knight, 

Schal  have  his  lady,  as  thou  him  hihight. 

Thow  Martz  schal  kepe  his  knight,  yet  nevertheles 

Bitwixe  you  ther  moot  som  tyme  be  pees : 

Al  be  ye  nought  of  oo  complexioun, 

That  ilke  day  causeth  such  divisioun. 

I  am  thi  ayel,  redy  at  thy  wille ; 

Wepe  thou  nomore,  I  wol  thi  lust  fulfille."  2480 

Now  wol  I  stynt  of  the  goddes  above, 

Of  Mars,  and  of  Venus  goddes  of  love, 

And  telle  you,  as  pleinly  as  I  can, 

The  grete  effecte  for  that  I  bigan. 

Gret  was  the  fest  in  Athenus  that  day, 
And  eek  that  lusty  sesoun  of  that  May 
Made  eveiy  wight  to  ben  in  such  plesaunce, 
That  al  the  Monday  jousten  they  and  daunce, 
And  spende  it  in  Venus  heigh  servise. 
But  by  the  cause  that  they  schuln  arise  2490 

Erly  a-morwe  for  to  see  that  fight, 
Unto  their  rest  wente  they  at  nyght. 
And  on  the  morwe  whan  the  day  gan  spryng, 
Of  hors  and  hernoys  noyse  and  clateryng 
Ther  was  in  the  oostes  al  aboute  : 
And  to  the  paleys  rood  ther  many  a  route 
Of  lordes,  upon  steede  and  palfreys. 
Ther  mayst  thou  see  devysyng  of  herneys 


THE    KNIGHTES    TALE.  101 

So  uncowth  and  so  riche  wrought  and  wel 

Of  goldsmithry,  of  browdyng,  and  of  steel ;  2500 

The  scheldes  bright,  testers,  and  trappures; 

Gold-beten  helnies,  hauberks,  and  cote  armures ; 

Lordes  in  paramentes  on  her  coursers, 

Knightes  of  retenu,  and  eek  squyers ; 

Rayhyng  the  speres,  and  helnies  bokelyng, 

Girdyng  of  scheeldes,  with  layneres  lasyng  ; 

Ther  as  need  is,  they  were  nothing  ydel : 

Ther  fornen  steedes,  on  the  golden  bridel 

Gnawyng,  and  faste  armurers  also 

With  fyle  and  hamer  prikyng  to  and  fro  ;  2510 

Yemen  on  foote,  and  knaves  many  oon 

With  schorte  staves,  as  thikke  as  they  may  goon ; 

Pypes,  trompes,  nakers,  and  clariounes, 

That  in  the  batail  blewe  bloody  sownes ; 

The  paleys  ful  of  pepul  up  and  doun, 

Heer  thre,  ther  ten,  haldyng  her  questioun, 

Dyvynyng  of  this  Thebans  knightes  two. 

Som  seyden  thus,  som  seyd  it  schal  be  so ; 

Som  heelde  with  him  with  the  blake  berd, 

Som  with  the  ballyd,  som  with  thikke  hered;         2520 

Som  sayd  he  loked  grym  as  he  wold  light : 

He  hath  a  sparth  of  twenti  pound  of  wight. 

Thus  was  the  halle  ful  of  devynyng, 

Lang  after  that  the  sonne  gau  to  spring. 

2516. — /iter  thre.      So  in   the  Teseide, — 

Qui  tic,  lit  quatro,  v  qui  sei  adunati, 
Tra  lor  uiostrando  diverbe  ragione 


102  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

The  gret  Theseus  that  of  his  sleep  is  awaked 
With  menstralcy  and  noyse  that  was  maked, 
Held  yit  the  chainbre  of  his  paleys  riche, 
Til  that  the  Thebanes  knyghtes  bothe  i-liche 
Honoured  weren,  and  into  paleys  let. 
Duk  Theseus  was  at  a  wyndow  set,  2530 

Arayed  right  as  he  were  god  in  trone : 
The  pepul  preseth  thider-ward  ful  sone 
Hirn  for  to  seen,  and  doon  him  reverence, 
And  eek  herken  his  hest  and  his  sentence. 
An  herowd  on  a  skaffold  made  a  hoo, 
Til  al  the  noyse  of  the  pepul  was  i-doo  : 
And  whan  he  sawh  the  pepul  of  noyse  al  stille, 
Thus  schewed  he  the  mighty  dukes  wille. 
"  The  lord  hath  of  his  heih  discrecioun 
Considered,  that  it  were  destruccioun  2540 

To  gentil  blood,  to  tighten  in  this  wise 
Of  mortal  batail  now  in  this  emprise ; 
Wherfore  to  schapen  that  they  schuld  not  dye, 
He  wol  his  firste  purpos  modifye. 
No  man  therfore,  up  peyne  of  los  of  lyf, 
No  manor  schot,  ne  pollax,  ne  schort  knyf 
Into  the  lystes  sende,  or  thider  brvng; 
Ne  schorte  swerd  for  to  stoke  the  point  bytyng 
No  man  ne  draw,  ne  here  by  his  side. 
Ne  noman  schal  unto  his  felawe  ryde  2550 


2527. — held  yit  ihi  chambre.     So  tin'  Teseide, — 
Anchor  le  riche  eamere  t>  nea 
Del  Mid  palaziq, 


THE    KNIGIITES    TALE.  103 

But  oou  cours,  with  a  scharpe  spere ; 

Feyne  if  him  lust  on  foote,  himself  to  were. 

And  he  that  is  at  meschief,  schal  he  take, 

And  nat  slayn,  but  be  brought  to  the  stake, 

That  schal  be  ordeyned  on  eyther  syde  ; 

But  thider  he  schal  by  force,  and  ther  abyde. 

And  if  so  falle,  a  cheventen  be  take 

On  eyther  side,  or  elles  sle  his  make, 

No  lenger  schal  the  turneynge  laste. 

God  spede  you  ;  goth  forth  and  ley  on  faste.        2560 

With  long  swerd  and  with  mace  fight  your  fille. 

Goth  now  your  way ;    this  is  the  lordes  wille." 

The  voice  of  the  poepul  toucbith  heven, 
So  lowde  cried  thei  with  mery  steven  : 
"  God  save  such  a  lord  that  is  so  good, 
He  wilneth  no  destruccioun  of  blood  !" 
Up  goth  the  trompes  and  the  melodye, 
And  to  the  lystes  ryde  the  companye 
By  ordynaunce,  thurgh  the  cite  large, 
Hangyng  with  cloth  of  gold,  and  not  with  sarge.  2570 
Ful  lik  a  lord  this  nobul  duk  cam  ryde, 
These  tuo  Thebans  on  eyther  side  : 
And  after  rood  the  queen,  and  Emelye, 


2503. — The  voice  of  the  poepul.     So  the  Teseide, — 
Di  ni/bili  e  del  populo  il  romore 
Toclio  lc  Btelle,  se  fu  alto  e  forte, 
Li  dei,  dicendo,  servi  tal  signore 
Che  de  gli  amici  suoi  fugie  la  morte. 

2564.- — mery.      The  MS.  Hail,  reads  mylde. 


104  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

And  after  hem  another  cornpanye 
Of  one  and  other,  after  here  degre. 
And  thus  they  passeden  thurgh  that  cite, 
And  to  the  lystes  come  thei  by  tyme : 
It  nas  not  of  the  day  yet  fully  pryme. 
Whan  sette  was  Theseus  riche  and  hye, 
Ypolita  the  queen  and  Emelye,  2580 

And  other  ladyes  in  here  degrees  aboute, 
Unto  the  settes  passeth  al  the  route. 
And  west-ward,  thorugh  the  gates  of  Mart, 
Arcite,  and  eek  the  hundred  of  his  part, 
With  baners  red  ys  entred  right  anoon  ; 
And  in  that  selve  moment  Palamon 
Is,  under  Venus,  est-ward  in  that  place, 
With  baner  whyt,  and  hardy  cheer  of  face. 
In  al  the  world,  to  seeke  up  and  doun, 
So  even  withoute  variacioun  2590 

Ther  nere  suche  companyes  tweye. 
For  ther  nas  noon  so  wys  that  cowthe  seye, 
That  any  had  of  other  avauntage 
Of  worthines,  ne  staat,  ne  of  visage, 
So  evene  were  they  chosen  for  to  gesse. 
And  in  two  renges  faire  they  hem  dresse. 
And  whan  here  names  i-rad  were  eveiychon, 


2574. — And  after  hem.     The  MS  Harl.  reads  these  two  lines  thus, — 
And  after  hem  of  ladyes  another  cornpanye, 
And  after  hem  of  comunes  after  here  degre. 
Of  ladies  in  the  first  line  seems  redundant,  and  the  second  line  appears 
to  have  been  blundered  by  a  careless  or  ignorant  scribe. 


THE    KNIGHTES   TALE.  105 

That  in  here  noinbre  gile  were  ther  noon, 

Tho  were  the  gates  schitt,  and  cried  lowde  ; 

Doth  now  your  devoir,  yonge  knightes  proude  !"  2600 

The  heraldz  laften  here  prikyng  up  and  doun  ; 

Now  ryngede  the  tronip  and  clarioun. 

Ther  is  noniore  to  say,  but  est  and  west 

In  goth  the  speres  into  the  rest ; 

Ther  seen  men  who  can  juste,  and  who  can  ryde. 

In  goth  the  scharpe  spere  into  the  side. 

Ther  schyveren  schaftes  upon  schuldres  thyk ; 

He  feeleth  thurgh  the  herte-spon  the  prik. 

Up  sprengen  speres  on  twenty  foot  on  hight ; 

Out  goon  the  swerdes  as  the  silver  bright.  2610 

The  helmes  ther  to-hewen  and  to-schrede ; 

Out  brast  the  blood,  with  stoute  strenies  reede. 

With  mighty  maces  the  bones  thay  to-breste. 

He  thurgh  the  thikkest  of  the  throng  gan  threste. 

Ther  stomblen  steedes  strong,  and  doun  can  falle. 

He  rolleth  under  foot  as  cloth  a  balle. 

He  feyneth  on  his  foot  with  a  tronchoun, 

And  him  hurteleth  with  his  hors  adoun. 

He  thurgh  the  body  hurt  is,  and  siththen  take 

Maugre  his  heed,  and  brought  unto  the  stake,      2620 

As  forward  was,  right  ther  he  most  abyde. 

Another  lad  is  on  that  other  syde. 

And  som  tyme  doth  Theseus  hem  to  rest, 

Hem  to  refreissche,  and  drinke  if  hem  lest. 

"2617. — on  his  fool.     Conf.  1.  2552. 


106  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Ful  ofte  a-day  have  this  Thebans  twoo 

Togider  y-met,  and  wrought  his  felaw  woo  : 

Unhorsed  hath  ech  other  of  hem  tweye. 

Ther  nas  no  tygyr  in  the  vale  of  Galgopleye, 

Whan  that  hir  whelp  is  stole,  whan  it  is  lite, 

So  cruel  on  the  hunt,  as  is  Arcite  263° 

For  jelous  hert  upon  tliis  Palamon  : 

Ne  in  Beluiary  ther  is  no  fel  lyoun, 

That  hunted  is,  or  is  for  hunger  wood, 

Ne  of  his  prey  desireth  so  the  blood, 

As  Palamon  to  sle  his  foo  Arcite. 

The  jelous  strokes  on  here  helmes  byte  : 

Out  renneth  blood  on  bothe  here  sides  reede. 

Som  tyme  an  ende  ther  is  on  every  dede. 

For  er  the  sonne  unto  the  reste  went, 

The  strange  kyng  Emetreus  gan  hent  2640 

This  Palamon,  as  he  faught  with  Arcite, 

And  his  swerd  in  his  fleissch  he  did  byte. 

And  by  the  force  of  twenti  he  is  take 

Unyolden,  and  i-drawe  unto  the  stake. 

And  in  the  rescous  of  this  Palamon 

The  stronge  kyng  Ligurgius  is  born  adoun  : 

And  kyng  Emetreus  for  al  his  strengthe 

Is  born  out  of  his  sadel  his  swerdes  lengthe, 

So  hit  him  Palamon  er  he  were  take  : 

But  al  for  nought,  he  was  brought  to  the  stake :  2650 


2628. — Galgopleye.  Tyrwliitt  reads  Golaphci/,  and  conjectures  tliat 
Chaucer  meant  Galapha  in  Mauritania  Tingitana,  Belmarie  lias  been 
noticed  before,  /.  57. 


THE    KNIGHTES    TALE.  107 

His  hardy  herte  might  him  helpe  nought, 

He  most  abyde  whan  that  he  was  caught, 

By  force,  and  eek  by  composicioun. 

Who  sorweth  now  but  woful  Palamoun, 

That  moot  nomore  gon  agayn  to  fight  ? 

And  whan  that  Theseus  had  seen  that  sight, 

He  cryed,  "  Hoo  !  nomore,  for  it  is  doon  ! 

Ne  noon  schal  lenger  unto  his  felaw  goon. 

I  wol  be  trewe  juge,  and  nought  partye. 

Arcyte  of  Thebes  schal  have  Emelye,  2660 

That  hath  by  his  fortune  hire  i-wonne." 

Anoon  ther  is  noyse  bygonne 

For  joye  of  this,  so  lowde  and  hey  withalle, 

It  semed  that  the  listes  wolde  falle. 

What  can  now  fayre  Venus  doon  above  ? 

What  seith  sche  now  ?  what  doth  this  queen  of  love  ? 

But  wepeth  so,  for  wantyng  of  hir  wille, 

Til  that  hire  teeres  in  the  lystes  fille : 

Sche  seyde  :  "  I  am  aschamed  douteles." 

Satoumus  seyde  :  "  Doughter,  hold  thy  pees.       2670 

Mars  hath  his  wille,  his  knight  hath  his  boone, 

And  by  myn  heed  thou  schal  t  be  esed  soone." 

The  trompes  with  the  lowde  mynstralcy, 

The  herawdes,  that  ful  lowde  yolle  and  cry, 

Been  in  here  joye  for  daun  Arcyte. 

But  herkneth  me,  and  stynteth  but  a  lite, 

Which  a  miracle  bifel  anoon. 

This  Arcyte  fersly  hath  don  his  helm  adoun, 

And  on  his  courser  for  to  schewe  his  face 


108  THE    CANTERBURY    TAT,ES. 

He  priked  endlange  in  the  large  place,  2G8° 

Lokyng  upward  upon  this  Emelye  ; 

And  sche  agayn  him  cast  a  frendly  yghe, 

(For  wommen,  as  for  to  speke  in  comune, 

Thay  folwe  alle  the  favour  of  fortune) 

And  was  alle  his  in  cheer,  and  in  Ms  hert. 

Out  of  the  ground  a  fyr  infernal  stert, 

From  Pluto  send,  at  the  request  of  Saturne, 

For  which  his  hors  for  feere  gan  to  turne, 

And  leep  asyde,  and  foundred  as  he  leep : 

And  or  that  Arcyte  may  take  keep,  2690 

He  pight  him  on  the  pomel  of  his  heed, 

That  in  that  place  he  lay  as  he  were  deed, 

His  brest  to-broken  with  his  sadil  bowe. 

As  blak  he  lay  as  eny  col  or  crowe, 

So  was  the  blood  y-ronne  in  his  face. 

Anon  he  was  j-born  out  of  the  place 

With  herte  sore,  to  Theseus  paleys. 

Tho  was  he  corven  out  of  his  barneys, 

And  in  a  bed  y-brought  ful  fair  and  blyve, 

For  yit  he  was  in  memory  and  on  lyve,  2700 

And  alway  cryeng  after  Emelye. 

Duk  Theseus,  and  al  his  companye, 

Is  comen  horn  to  Athenes  his  cite, 

With  alle  blys  and  gret  solempnite. 

Al  be  it  that  this  aventure  was  falle, 

He  nolde  nought  discomforten  hem  alle. 

Men  seyde  eek,  that  Arcita  schuld  nought  dye, 

He  schal  be  helvd  of  his  maladye. 


THE    KN1GHTES    TALE.  109 

And  of  another  thing  they  were  as  fayn, 
That  of  hem  alle  ther  was  noon  y-slayn,  2710 

Al  were  they  sore  hurt,  and  namely  oon, 
That  with  a  spere  was  thirled  his  brest  boon. 
To  other  woundes,  and  to  broken  armes, 
Some  hadde  salve,  and  some  hadde  eharmes, 
Fermacyes  of  herbes,  and  eek  save 
They  dronken,  for  they  wolde  here  lyves  have. 
For  which  this  noble  duk,  as  he  wel  can, 
Comforteth  and  honoureth  eveiy  man, 
And  made  revel  al  the  lange  night, 
Unto  the  straunge  lordes,  as  was  right.  2720 

Ne  ther  was  holden  no  discomfytyng, 
But  as  a  justes  or  as  a  turneying ; 
For  sothly  ther  was  no  discomfiture, 
For  fallynge  is  but  an  adventure. 
Ne  to  be  lad  with  fors  unto  the  stake 
Unyolden,  and  with  twenty  knightes  take, 
A  person  allone,  withouten  moo, 
And  rent  forth  by  arme,  foot,  and  too, 
And  eke  his  steede  dryven  forth  with  staves, 
With  footemen,  bothe  yemen  and  eke  knaves,      2730 
It  was  aretted  him  no  vylonye  : 
Ne  no  maner  man  heldn  it  no  cowardye. 
For  which  Theseus  lowd  anon  leet  crie, 


2714,  2715. — eharmes — save.  It  may  be  observed  that  tbe  salves 
charms,  and  pliannacies  of  herbs,  were  the  principal  remedies  of  the 
physican  in  the  age  of  Cbaucer.  Save  (salvia,  tbe  hcib  sage),  was  con- 
sidered one  of  the  most  universally  efficient  of  tbe  medieval  remedies. 


110  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

To  stynten  al  rancour  and  al  envye, 

The  gree  as  wel  on  o  syde  as  on  other, 

And  every  side  lik,  as  otheres  brother : 

And  gaf  hem  giftes  after  here  degre, 

And  fully  heeld  a  feste  dayes  thre  : 

And  conveyed  the  knightes  worthily 

Out  of  his  toun  a  journee  largely.  2740 

And  horn  went  every  man  the  righte  way, 

Ther  was  no  more,  but  "  Farwel,  have  good  day!" 

Of  this  batayl  I  wol  no  more  endite, 

But  speke  of  Palamon  and  of  Arcyte. 

Swelleth  the  brest  of  Arcyte,  and  the  sore 
Encresceth  at  his  herte  more  and  more. 
The  clothred  blood,  for  eny  leche-craft, 
Corrumpith,  and  is  in  his  bouk  i-laft, 
That  nother  veyne  blood,  ne  ventusyng, 
Ne  drynk  of  herbes  may  ben  his  helpyng.  2750 

The  vertu  expulsif,  or  animal, 
Fro  thilke  vertu  cleped  natural, 
Ne  may  the  venym  voyde,  ne  expelle. 
The  pypes  of  his  lounges  gan  to  swelle, 
And  every  lacerte  in  his  brest  adoun 
Is  schent  with  venym  and  corrupcioun. 
Him  gayneth  nother,  for  to  get  his  lyf, 


2738. — dayes  thre.  Three  days  were  the  usual  duration  of  a  feast 
among  our  early  forefathers.  As  far  back  as  the  seventh  century,  when 
Wilfred  consecrated  his  church  at  Ripon,  he  held — magnum  convivium 
trium  dierum  et  noctium  reges  cum  omni  populo  laetificantes.  Eddius, 
Vit.  S  Wilf.  c.  17.  I  am  told  that  in  Scotland  these  feasts  of  three  d ays 
and  three  nights,  have  been  preserved  traditionally  to  a  comparatively 
recent  period. 


THE    KNJLGHTES    TALE.  1  1  1 

Vomyt  up- ward,  ne  doun-ward  laxatif ; 

Al  is  to-broken  thilke  regioun ; 

Nature  hath  now  no  dominacioun.  2760 

And  certeynly  wher  nature  wil  not  wirche, 

Farwel  phisik ;  go  here  the  man  to  chirche. 

This  al  and  som,  that  Arcyte  moste  dye. 

For  which  he  sendeth  after  Emelye, 

And  Palamon,  that  was  his  cosyn  deere. 

Than  seyd  he  thus,  as  ye  schul  after  heere. 

"Naught  may  the  woful  spirit  in  myn  herte 
Declare  a  poynt  of  my  sorwes  smerte 
To  you,  my  lady,  that  I  love  most ; 
But  I  byquethe  the  seiwice  of  my  gost  2770 

To  you  aboven  every  creature, 
Syn  that  my  lyf  may  no  lenger  dure. 
Alias,  the  woo  !  alias,  the  peynes  stronge, 
That  I  for  you  have  suffred,  and  so  longe ! 
Alias,  the  deth !  alias,  myn  Emelye  ! 
Alias,  departyng  of  our  companye  ! 
Alias,  myn  hertes  queen  !  alias,  my  wyf ! 
Myn  hertes  lady,  ender  of  my  lyf! 
What  is  this  world?  what  asken  men  to  have? 
Now  with  his  love,  now  in  his  colde  grave  2780 

Allone  withouten  eny  companye. 
Farwel,  my  swete,  farwel,  myn  Emelye  ! 
And  softe  take  me  in  your  armes  tweye, 
For  love  of  God,  and  herkneth  what  I  seye. 
I  have  heer  with  my  cosyn  Palamon 
Had  strvf  and  rancour  many  a  day  i-gon, 


112  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

For  love  of  yow,  and  eek  for  jelousie. 

And  Jupiter  so  wis  my  sowle  gye, 

To  speken  of  a  servaunt  proprely, 

With  alle  circurnstaunces  trewely,  2790 

That  is  to  seyn,  trouthe,  honour,  and  knighthede, 

Wysdom,  humblesse,  astaat,  and  by  kynrcde, 

Fredam,  and  al  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  do  al  his  lyf. 

And  if  that  ye  schul  ever  be  a  wyf, 

Forget  not  Palamon,  that  gentil  man." 

And  with  that  word  his  speehe  faile  gan  ;  2S00 

For  fro  his  herte  up  to  his  brest  was  come 

The  cold  of  deth,  that  him  had  overcome. 

And  yet  moreover  in  his  armes  twoo 

The  vital  strength  is  lost,  and  al  agoo. 

Only  the  intellect,  withouten  more, 

That  dwelled  in  his  herte  sik  and  sore, 

Gan  fayle,  whan  the  herte  felte  deth ; 

Duskyng  his  eyghen  two,  and  fayled  breth. 

But  on  his  lady  yit  he  cast  his  ye  ; 

His  laste  word  was,  "  Mercy,  Emelye  !"  2810 

His  spiryt  diaunged  was,  and  wente  ther, 

As  I  cam  never,  I  can  nat  tellen  wher. 

Therfore  I  stynte,  I  nam  no  dyvynistre ; 

2813. — Therfore  I  stynic.  Up  to  this  point,  the  description  of  Arcite's 
dying  moments  is  taken  literally  from  the  Teseide.  "  This,"  Tyrwhitt 
observes,  "  is  apparently  a  fling  at  Boecace's  pompous  description  of  the 
passage  of  Arcite's  soul  to  heaven." 


THE    KMGHTES    TALE.  113' 

Of  soules  fyncle  I  not  in  this  registre. 

Ne  me  list  nat  thopynyouns  to  telle 

Of  hem,  though  that  thei  wyten  wher  they  dwelle. 

Arcyte  is  cold,  ther  Mars  his  soule  gye  : 

Now  wol  I  speke  forth  of  Emelye. 

Shright  Emely,  and  howled  Palamon, 
And  Theseus  Iris  sustir  took  anon  2820 

Swownyng,  and  bar  hir  fro  the  corps  away. 
What  helpeth  it  to  tarye  forth  the  day, 
To  telle  how  sche  weep  bothe  eve  and  morwe  ? 
For  in  swich  caas  wommen  can  have  such  sorwe, 
Whan  that  here  housbonds  ben  from  hem  ago, 
That  for  the  more  part  they  sorwen  so, 
Or  elles  fallen  in  such  maladye, 
That  atte  laste  certeynly  they  dye. 
Infynyt  been  the  sorwes  and  the  teeres 
Of  olde  folk,  and  folk  of  tendre  yeeres  ;  2S30 

So  gret  a  wepyng  was  ther  noon  certayn, 
Whan  Ector  was  i-brought,  al  freissh  i-slayn, 
As  that  ther  was  for  deth  of  this  Theban ; 
For  sorwe  of  him  ther  weepeth  bothe  child  and  man 
At  Troye,  alias  !  the  pite  that  was  there, 
Cracchyng  of  cheekes,  rendyng  eek  of  here. 


2^0.— folk,  and  folk.  The  MS.  Harl.  reads  olde  folk  that  ben  of 
tendre.  The  lines  which  follow,  are  read  by  Tyrwhitt,  on  the  authority 
of  some  of  the  MSS.  (perhaps  correctly)  thus, — 

In  all  the  toun  for  deth  of  this  Theban: 
For  him  ther  wepetb  bothe  childe  and  man. 
So  gret  a  weping  was  ther  non  certain, 
Whan  Hector  was  y-bronght,  all  fresh  y  slain, 
To  Troy,  &c. 

I 


114  THE    CANTEBBUKY    TALKS. 

"  Why  woldist  thou  he  deed,"  this  wommen  crye, 

"  And  haddest  gold  ynowgh,  and  Emelye  ?" 
No  man  mighte  glade  Theseus, 

Savyng  his  olde  fader  Egeus,  2840 

That  laiew  this  worldes  transmutacioun, 
As  he  hadde  seen  it  tome  up  and  doun, 
Joye  after  woo,  and  woo  aftir  gladnesse ; 
And  schewed  him  ensample  and  likenesse. 
"  Eight  as  ther  deyde  never  man,"  quod  he, 

"  That  he  ne  lyved  in  erthe  in  som  degree, 
Yit  ther  ne  lyvede  never  man,"  he  seyde, 

"  In  al  this  world,  that  som  tyme  he  ne  deyde. 
This  world  nys  hut  a  thurghfare  ful  of  woo, 
And  we  hen  pilgrvms,  passyng  to  and  froo  :  2850 

Deth  is  an  ende  of  every  worldly  sore," 
And  over  al  this  yit  seide  he  mochil  more 
To  this  effect,  ful  wysly  to  enhorte 
The  peple,  that  they  schulde  him  recomforte. 

Duk  Theseus  with  al  his  husy  cure 
Cast  husyly  wher  that  the  sepulture 
Of  good  Arcyte  may  hest  y-maked  he, 
And  eek  most  honurahle  in  his  degre. 
And  atte  last  he  took  conclusioun, 
That  ther  as  first  Arcite  and  Palamon  2860 

Hadden  for  love  the  hatail  hem  hytwene, 
That  in  the  selve  grove,  soote  and  greene, 
Ther  as  he  hadde  his  amorous  desires, 
His  compleynt,  and  for  love  his  hoote  fyres, 
He  wolde  make  a  fyr,  in  which  thoffice 


THE    KNIGHTES    TALK.  ]  1  5 

Of  funeral  he  might  al  accomplice  ; 
And  leet  comaunde  anon  to  hakke  and  hew 
The  okes  olde,  and  ley  hem  on  a  rewe 
In  culpouns  wel  arrayed  for  to  hrenne. 
His  officers  with  swifte  foot  they  renne,  2870 

And  ryde  anon  at  his  comaundement. 
And  after  this,  Theseus  hath  i-sent 
After  a  beer,  and  it  al  overspradde 
With  cloth  of  golde,  the  richest  that  he  hadde. 
And  of  the  same  sute,  he  clad  Arcyte  ; 
Upon  his  hondes  were  his  gloves  white ; 
Eke  on  his  heed  a  croune  of  laurer  grene  ; 
And  in  his  bond  a  swerd  ful  bright  and  kene. 
He  leyde  him  bare  the  visage  on  the  beere, 
Therwith  he  weep  that  pite  was  to  heere.  288° 

And  for  the  poeple  schulde  see  him  alle, 
Whan  it  was  day  he  brought  hem  to  the  halle. 
That  roreth  of  the  cry  and  of  the  soun. 
Tho  cam  this  woful  Theban  Palamoun, 
With  flotery  herd,  and  ruggy  asshy  heeres, 
In  clothis  blak,  y-dropped  al  with  teeres, 
And,  passyng  other,  of  wepyng  Emelye, 
The  rewfullest  of  al  the  companye. 
And  in  as  moche  as  the  service  schulde  be 
The  more  nobul  and  riche  in  bis  degre,  289° 

Duk  Theseus  leet  forth  tine  steedes  bryng, 
That  trapped  were  in  steel  al  gliteryng, 
And  covered  with  amies  of  dan  Aivvte. 
Upon  the  steedes,  that  wen  n  grete  and  white, 

j  2 


11H  THE    CANTERBURY    TAT.ES. 

Ther  seeten  folk,  of  which  oon  bar  his  scheeld, 

Another  his  spere  up  in  his  hondes  heeld  ; 

The  thridde  bar  with  him  his  bowe  Turkeys, 

Of  brend  gold  was  the  caas  and  eek  the  herneys : 

And  riden  forth  a  paas  with  sorwful  chere 

Toward  the  grove,  as  ye  schul  after  heere.  2900 

The  noblest  of  the  Grekes  that  ther  were 

Upon  here  schuldres  carieden  the  beere, 

With  slak  paas,  and  eyhen  reed  and  wete, 

Thurghout  the  cite,  by  the  maister  streete, 

That  sprad  was  al  with  blak,  and  wonder  hye 

Right  of  the  same  is  al  the  stret  i-wrye. 

Upon  the  right  bond  went  olde  Egeus, 

And  on  that  other  syde  duk  Theseus, 

With  vessels  in  here  hand  of  gold  wel  fyn, 

As  ful  of  hony,  mylk,  and  blood,  and  wyn;  2910 

Eke  Palamon,  with  a  gret  eompanye  : 

And  after  that  com  woful  Emelye, 

With  fyr  in  bond,  as  was  at  that  tyme  the  gyse, 

To  do  thoffice  of  funeral  servise. 

Heygh  labour,  and  ful  gret  apparailyng 
Was  at  the  service  and  at  the  fyr  makyng, 
That  with  his  grene  top  the  heven  raughte, 
And  twenty  fadme  of  brede  tharme  straughte  : 
This  is  to  seyn,  the  boowes  were  so  brode. 
Of  stree  first  was  ther  leyd  ful  many  a  loode.       2920 


2897. —  his  bowe  Turkeys.      In  the  Roinau  de  la  Ro.se,  I.  913.  Love  is 
described  as  bearing  deux  ars  Turquois. 


THE    KNIGHTES    TALE.  117 

But  how  the  fyr  was  makyd  up  on  highte, 

And  eek  the  names  how  the  trees  highte, 

As  ook,  fyr,  birch,  asp,  aklir,  holm,  popler, 

Wilw,  elm,  plane,  assch,  box,  chesteyn,  lynde,  laurer, 

Mapul,  thorn,  beech,  basil,  ew,  wyppyltre, 

How  they  weren  felde,  schal  nought  be  told  for  me  ; 

Ne  how  the  goddes  ronnen  up  and  doun 

Disheryt  of  here  habitacioun, 

In  which  they  whilom  woned  in  rest  and  pees, 

Nympbes,  Faunes,  and  Amadiyes  ;  293° 

Ne  how  the  beestes  and  the  briddes  alle 

Fledden  for  feere,  whan  the  woode  was  falle ; 

Ne  how  the  ground  agast  was  of  the  light, 

That  was  nought  wont  to  see  no  sonne  bright ; 

Ne  how  the  fyr  was  couchid  first  with  stree, 

And  thanne  with  drye  stykkes  cloven  in  three, 

And  thanne  with  grene  woode  and  spicerie, 

And  thanne  with  cloth  of  gold  and  with  perrye, 

And  gerlandes  hangyng  with  ful  many  a  flour, 

The  myrre,  thensens  with  al  so  gret  odour;  2940 

Ne  how  Arcyte  lay  among  al  this, 

Ne  what  richesse  aboute  his  body  is  ; 

Ne  bow  that  Emely,  as  was  the  gyse, 

Putt  in  the  fyr  of  funeral  servise  ; 

Ne  how  sche  Bwowned  whan  sche  ma  le  the  fyre, 


2921. — Bnt  how  the  fyr.  The  description  of  the  funeral,  and  several 
other  parts  of  this  poem,  axe  taken  originally  from  the  Thebaid  of  Statins, 
to  which  Chaucer  has  already  made  a  direct  reference,  /.  2296. 

2930. — Amadryes.  This  is  the  reading  of  all  the  MSS.  I  have  con- 
sulted.    It  is  of  course  a  corruption  of  Hainadrvades. 


1]S  THE    CANTKKISURY    TALES. 

Ne  what  sche  spak,  ne  what  was  hire  desire ; 

Ne  what  jewels  men  in  the  fyr  tho  cast, 

Whan  that  the  fyr  was  gret  and  brente  fast ; 

Ne  how  sum  caste  her  scheeld,  and  summe  her  spere, 

And  of  here  vestimentz,  which  that  they  were,     2950 

And  cuppes  ful  of  wyn,  and  mylk,  and  blood, 

Unto  the  fyr,  that  brent  as  it  were  wood ; 

Ne  how  the  Grekes  with  an  huge  route 

Thre  tymes  ryden  al  the  fyr  aboute 

Upon  the  lefte  bond,  with  an  heih  schoutyng, 

And  thries  with  here  speres  clateiyng ; 

And  thries  how  the  ladyes  gan  to  crye ; 

Ne  how  that  lad  was  home-ward  Emelye ; 

Ne  how  Arcyte  is  brent  to  aschen  colde  ; 

Ne  how  the  liche-wake  was  y-holde  2960 

Al  thilke  night,  ne  how  the  Grekes  pleye 

The  wake-pleyes,  kepe  I  nat  to  seye : 

Who  wrastleth  best  naked,  with  oyle  enoynt, 

Ne  who  that  bar  him  best  in  no  disjoynt. 

I  wol  not  telle  eek  how  they  ben  goon 

Horn  til  Athenes  whan  the  pley  is  cloon  ; 

But  schortly  to  the  poynt  now  wol  I  wende, 

And  maken  of  my  longe  tale  an  ende. 

2953. — Grekes.  The  scribe  of  the  MS.  Harl.  has  by  inadvertence  (as 
it  is  only  in  this  instance),  substituted  the  more  legitimate  old  English 
form  of  the  word  Gregoyt.  Chaucer,  following  the  Italian  and  acquainted 
with  the  classic  writers,  uses  the  form  Grekes  throughout  the  Knightes 
Tale. 

2960. — This  line  is  omitted  in  MS  Harl.,  by  an  oversight  of  the 
scribe. 

2964. — The  description  of  the  funeral,  like  that  of  the  tournament, 
presents  a  curious  mixture  of  classic  and  medieval  ideas,  such  as  is  found 
in  other  works  of  the  same  age. 


THE    KNIGHTES    TALE.  119 

By  proces  and  by  lengthe  of  certeyn  yen  b 
Al  styntyd  is  the  niomyng  aud  the  teeres  29?0 

Of  alle  Grekys,  by  oon  general  assent. 
Than  semed  ine  ther  was  a  parlement 
At  Athenes,  on  a  certeyn  poynt  and  cas  : 
Among  the  whiche  poyntes  spoken  was 
To  ban  with  certeyn  contrees  alliaunce, 
And  have  fully  of  Thebans  obeissance. 
For  which  this  noble  Theseus  anon 
Let  senden  after  gentil  Palamon, 
Unwist  of  him  what  was  the  cause  and  why  : 
But  in  his  blake  clothes  sorwfully  298° 

He  cam  at  his  comaundement  on  hye. 
Tho  sente  Theseus  for  Emelye. 
Whan  they  were  sette,  and  hussht  was  al  the  place, 
And  Theseus  abyden  hadde  a  space 
Or  eny  word  cam  fro  his  wyse  brest, 
His  eyen  set  he  ther  as  was  his  lest, 
And  with  a  sad  visage  he  syked  stillc, 
And  after  that  right  thus  he  seide  his  wille. 

"  The  firste  moevere  of  the  cause  above, 
Whan  he  first  made  the  fayre  cheyne  of  love,       2990 
Gret  was  theffect,  and  heigh  was  lii^  entente  ; 
Wei  wist  he  why,  and  what  therof  he  mente; 
For  with  that  faire  cheyne  of  love  he  bund 

3993. — cheyne  of  love.     This  sentiment  is  taken   from  Boethius,  De 
Consolat.  Phil.  lib.  ii,  met.  8, — 

Hanc  rcrum  sen  em  ligat, 

Terras  uc  pelagus  regens, 

Et  coelo  imperitans,  amor. 
What  follows  is  taken  from  the  same  writer,  lib.  iv,  pr,  ti. 


120  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

The  fyr,  the  watir,  the  eyr,  and  eek  the  loud 
In  certeyn  boundes,  that  they  may  not  flee  : 
That  same  prynce  and  moevere  eek,"  quod  he, 
"  Hath  stabled,  in  this  wrecched  world  adoun, 
Certeyn  dayes  and  duracioun 
To  alle  that  er  engendrid  in  this  place, 
Over  the  which  day  they  may  nat  pace,  3000 

Al  mowe  they  yit  wel  here  dayes  abregge  ; 
Ther  needeth  non  auctorite  tallegge  ; 
For  it  is  preved  by  experience, 
But  that  me  lust  declare  my  sentence. 
Than  jnay  men  wel  by  this  ordre  discerne, 
That  thilke  moevere  stabul  is  and  eterne. 
Wel  may  men  knowe,  but  it  be  a  fool, 
That  every  partye  dyryveth  from  his  hool. 
For  nature  hath  nat  take  his  bygynnyng 
Of  no  partye  ne  cantel  of  a  thing,  3010 

But  of  a  thing  that  parfyt  is  and  stable, 
Descendyng  so,  til  it  be  comrnpable. 
And  therfore  of  his  wyse  purveaunce 
He  hath  so  wel  biset  his  ordenaunce, 
That  sjuces  of  thinges  and  progressiouns 
Schullen  endure  by  successiouns, 
And  nat  eteme  be  withoute  lye  : 
This  maistow  understand  and  se  at  ye. 

"Lo  the  ook,  that  hath  so  long  norisschyng 


3019. — Lo  the  ook.     From  the  Teseide, — 

Li  ijuerci,  clie  anno  si  lungo  nutrimento 
E  tanta  vita  quanta  noi  vedemo, 
Anno  pur  alcun  tempo  tinimento. 
Lp  dure  pietre  alitor,  etc. 


THE    KNIGHTES   TALE.  121 

Fro  tyme  that  it  gynneth  first  to  spring,  3020 

And  hath  so  long  a  lyf,  as  we  may  see, 
Yet  atte  laste  wasted  is  the  tree. 

"  Considereth  eek,  how  that  the  harde  stoon 
Under  oure  foot,  on  which  we  trede  and  goon, 
Yit  wasteth  it,  as  it  lith  by  the  weye. 
The  brode  ryver  som  tyme  wexeth  dreye. 
The  grete  townes  see  we  wane  and  wende. 
Than  may  I  see  that  al  thing  hath  an  ende. 

"  Of  man  and  womman  se  we  wel  also, 
That  wendeth  in  oon  of  this  termes  two,  3030 

That  is  to  seyn,  in  youthe  or  elles  in  age, 
He  moot  ben  deed,  the  kyng  as  schal  a  page ; 
Sum  in  his  bed,  som  in  the  deepe  see, 
Som  in  the  large  feeld,  as  men  may  se. 
Ther  helpeth  naught,  al  goth  thilke  weye  : 
Thanne  may  I  see  wel  that  al  thing  schal  deye. 
What  maketh  this  but  Jubiter  the  kyng  ? 
The  which  is  prynce  and  cause  of  alle  thing, 
Convertyng  al  unto  his  propre  wille, 
From  which  he  is  dereyned,  soth  to  telle.  3040 

And  here  agayn  no  creature  on  lyre 
Of  no  degre  avayleth  for  to  stryve. 

"  Than  is  it  wisdom,  as  thenketh  me, 
To  maken  vertu  of  necessite, 
And  take  it  wel,  that  we  may  nat  eschewe, 
And  namely  that  that  to  us  alle  is  dewe. 
Ami  who  so  gruccheth  aught,  he  doth  folye, 
And  rebel  is  to  him  that  al  may  gye. 


L22  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

And  certeynly  a  man  hath  most  honour 

To  deyen  in  his  excellence  and  flour,  3050 

Whan  he  is  siker  of  his  goode  name. 

Than  hath  he  doon  his  freend,  ne  him,  no  schame. 

And  glader  ought  his  freend  ben  of  his  deth, 

"Whan  with  honour  is  yolden  up  the  breth, 

Thanne  whan  his  name  appelled  is  for  age  ; 

For  al  forgeten  is  his  vasselage. 

Thanne  is  it  best,  as  for  a  worthi  fame, 

To  dye  whan  a  man  is  best  of  name. 

The  contrary  of  al  this  is  wilfulnesse. 

Why  grucchen  we  ?  why  have  we  hevynesse,         3060 

That  good  Arcyte,  of  chyvalry  the  flour, 

Departed  is,  with  worschip  and  honour, 

Out  of  this  foide  prisoun  of  this  lyf  ? 
Why  gruccheth  beer  his  cosyn  and  his  wyf 

Of  his  welfare,  that  loven  him  so  wel  ? 

Can  he  hem  thank  ?  nay,  God  woot,  never  a  del, 

That  bothe  his  soule  and  eek  hemself  offeude, 

And  yet  they  may  here  lustes  nat  amende. 
"  What  may  I  conclude  of  this  longe  serye, 

But  aftir  wo  I  rede  us  to  be  merye,  3070 

And  thanke  Jubiter  of  al  his  grace. 

And  or  that  we  departe  fro  this  place, 

I  rede  that  we  make,  of  sorwes  two, 

O  parfyt  joye  lastyng  ever  mo  : 

And  loketh  now  wher  most  sorwe  is  her-inne, 

Ther  wol  we  first  amenden  and  bygynne. 
"  Sustyr,"  quod  he,  "  tliis  is  my  ful  assent, 


THE    KXiGHTES    TALE.  L23 

With  al  thavys  beer  of  my  parlement, 
That  geutil  Palamon,  your  owne  knight, 
That  sevveth  yow  with  herte,  will,  and  might,       3080 
And  ever  hath  doon,  syn  fyrst  tyme  ye  him  knewe. 
That  ye  schul  of  your  grace  upon  him  re  we, 
And  take  him  for  your  housbond  and  for  lord : 
Lene  me  youre  hand,  for  this  is  oure  acord. 
Let  see  now  of  your  wommanly  pite. 
He  is  a  kynges  brotbir  sone,  pardee  ; 
And  though  he  were  a  pore  bachiller, 
Syn  he  hath  served  you  so  many  a  yeer, 
And  had  for  you  so  gret  adversite, 
It  moste  be  considered,  trusteth  me.  3090 

For  geutil  mercy  aughte  passe  right." 
Than  seyde  he  thus  to  Palamon  fid  right ; 
'  I  trowe  ther  needeth  litel  sermonyng 
To  make  you  assente  to  this  tiling. 
Com  neer,  and  tak  your  lady  by  the  bond." 
Bitwix  hem  was  i-maad  anon  the  bond, 
That  highte  matriinovn  or  mariage, 
By  alle  the  counseil  of  the  baronage. 
And  thus  with  blys  and  eek  with  melodye 
Hath  Palamon  i-wedded  Emelye.  3ioo 

And  God  that  al  this  wyde  world  hath  wrought, 
Send  him  his  love,  that  hath  it  deere  i-bought. 
For  now  is  Palamon  in  al  his  wele, 
Lyvynge  in  blisse,  riehesse,  and  in  hole, 
And  Emelye  him  loveth  so  tendirly, 
And  he  hir  serveth  al  so  gentilly, 


]  -^4  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

That  never  was  ther  wordes  hem  bitweene 

Of  jelousy,  ne  of  non  othir  tene. 

Thus  endeth  Palauion  and  Emelye ; 

And  God  save  al  this  fayre  companye !  3110 

THE  PROLOGE  OF  THE  MYLLER. 

Whan  that  the  Knight  had  thus  his  tale  i-told, 
In  al  the  route  nas  ther  yong  ne  old, 
That  he  ne  seyde  it  was  a  noble  story, 
And  worthi  to  be  drawen  to  memory ; 
And  namely  the  gentils  everichoon. 
Our  Host  tho  lowh  and  swoor,  "  So  moot  I  goon, 
This  goth  right  wel ;  unbokeled  is  the  male  ; 
Let  se  now  who  schal  telle  another  tale : 
For  trewely  this  game  is  wel  bygonne. 
Now  telleth  ye,  sir  Monk,  if  that  ye  konne  3120 

Som  what,  to  quyte  with  the  knightes  tale." 
The  Myller  that  for-drunken  was  al  pale, 
So  that  unnethe  upon  his  hors  he  sat, 
He  wold  avale  nowther  hood  ne  hat, 
Ne  abyde  no  man  for  his  curtesye, 
But  in  Pilates  voys  he  gan  to  crye, 
And  swor  by  armes  and  by  blood  and  bones, 
"  I  can  a  noble  tale  for  the  noones, 
With  which  I  wol  now  quyte  the  knightes  tale." 
Oure  Hoost  saugh  wel  how  dronke  he  was  of  ale,  3130 
And  seyde,  "  Robyn,  abyde,  my  leve  brother, 

3126. — Pilates  voys.      Pilate  was  probably  represented  in  tbe  popular 
Mysteries  speaking  in  a  gruff  loud  voice,  as  one  in  power  and  authority. 


PR0L0GE  OF  THE  MYIXEB.  125 

Som  bettre  man  scbal  telle  first  another : 
Abycl,  and  let  us  worken  thriftily." 
"  By  Goddes  soule  !"  quod  he,  "  that  wol  nat  I, 
For  I  wol  speke,  or  elles  go  my  way." 
Oure  Host  answerd,  "  Tel  on,  a  devel  way ! 
Thou  art  a  fool ;  thy  witt  is  overcome." 

"  Now  herkneth,"  quod  this  Myller,  "al  and  some 
But  first  I  make  a  protestacioun, 
That  I  am  dronke,  I  knowe  wel  by  my  soun :       3140 
And  therfore  if  that  I  mys-speke  or  seye, 
Wyte  it  the  ale  of  Southwerk,  I  you  preye  : 
For  I  wol  telle  a  legende  and  a  lyf 
Bothe  of  a  carpenter  and  of  his  wyf, 
How  that  the  clerk  hath  set  the  wrightes  cappe." 

The  Reve  answered  and  seyde,  "  Stynt  thi  clappe. 
Let  be  thy  lewed  drunken  harlottrye. 
It  is  a  synne,  and  eek  a  greet  folye 
To  apeyren  eny  man,  or  liim  defame, 
And  eek  to  brynge  wyves  in  ylle  name.  3150 

Thou  mayst  ynowgh  of  other  thinges  seyn." 
This  dronken  Miller  spak  ful  sone  ageyn, 
And  seyde,  "  Leeve  brother  Osewold, 
Who  hath  no  wyf,  he  is  no  cokewold. 
But  I  seye  not  therfore  that  thou  art  oon, 
Ther  been  ful  goocle  wyves  many  oon. 
And  ever  a  thousand  goode  agayns  oon  badde  ; 


3156. — The  two  next  lines  are  omitted  in  Tvrwhitt's  text.  I  bare  not 
reckoned  them  in  the  numbering,  from  the  wish  to  preserve  the  number- 
ing of  the  lines  as  in  Tyrwhitt's  Chaucer. 


]  26  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

That  knowest  thou  wel  thyself,  but  if  thou  madde. 

Why  art  thou  angry  with  my  tale  now  ? 

I  have  a  wyf,  parde  !  as  wel  as  thow, 

Yet  nolde  I,  for  the  oxen  in  my  plough, 

Take  upon  me  more  than  ynough  :  3160 

Though  that  thou  deme  thiself  that  thou  be  oon, 

I  wol  bileeve  wel  that  I  am  noon. 

An  housbond  schal  not  be  inquisityf 

Of  Goddes  pryvete,  ne  of  his  wyf. 

So  that  he  may  fynde  Goddes  foysoun  there, 

Of  the  remenaunt  needeth  nought  enquere." 

What  schuld  I  seye,  but  that  this  proud  Myllere 

He  nolde  his  wordes  for  no  man  forbere, 

But  tolde  his  cherlisch  tale  in  his  manere, 

Me  athinketh,  that  I  schal  reherce  it  heere.  3170 

And  therfor  every  gentil  wight  I  preye, 

For  Goddes  love,  as  deme  nat  that  I  seye, 

Of  yvel  entent,  but  for  I  moot  reherse 

Here  wordes  alle,  al  be  they  better  or  werse, 

Or  elles  falsen  som  of  my  mateere. 

And  therfor  who  so  list  it  nat  to  heere, 

Turne  over  the  leef,  and  cheese  another  tale  ; 

For  he  schal  fynde  ynowe  bothe  gret  and  smale, 

Of  storial  thing  that  toucheth  gentilesse, 

And  eek  moralite,  and  holynesse.  3180 

Blameth  nat  me,  if  that  ye  cheese  amys. 

The  Miller  is  a  cherl,  ye  know  wel  this ; 

So  was  the  Reeve,  and  othir  many  mo, 

And  harlotry  they  tolden  bothe  two. 


THE    MYIXEBES    TALE.  127 

Avyseth  you,  and  put  rue  out  of  blame  ; 
And  men  schulde  nat  make  emest  of  game. 

THE    MILLEEES   TALE. 

Whilom  ther  was  dwellyng  at  Oxenford 
A  riche  gnof,  that  gestes  heeld  to  boorde, 
And  of  his  craft  he  was  a  carpenter. 
With  him  ther  was  dwellyng  a  pore  scoler,  3190 

Had  lerned  art,  but  al  his  fantasye 
Was  torned  for  to  lerne  astrologye, 
And  cowde  a  certeyn  of  conclusiouns 
To  deme  by  interrogaciouns, 
If  that  men  axed  him  in  certeyn  houres, 
Whan  that  men  schuld  han  drought  or  ellys  schoures : 
Or  if  men  axed  him  what  schulde  bifalle 
Of  every  thing,  I  may  nought  reken  hem  alle. 
This  clerk  was  cleped  heende  Nicholas ; 
Of  derne  love  he  cowcle  and  of  solas  ;  3200 

And  therwith  he  was  sleigh  and  ful  prive, 
And  lik  a  mayden  meke  for  to  se. 
A  chambir  had  he  in  that  hostillerye 
Alone,  withouten  eny  compaignye, 
Ful  fetisly  i-dight  with  herbes  soote, 

The  Milleres  Tale. — 1  have  not  met  with  this  story  elsewhere  than  in 
Chaucer,  though  it  is  more  than  probable  that  he  took  it  from  an  older 
French  fabliau,  which  is  now  lost  or  only  preserved  in  some  inedited  and 
little  known  MS. 

3203. — that.     The  MS.  Harl.  reads  in  his  hottillerye.      It  may  be  ob- 

gerved  that  it  was  usual  in  the  university  iny  tu ■  mere  students  to 

have  one  room. 


128  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

And  he  himself  as  swete  as  is  the  roote 

Of  lokorys,  or  eny  cetewale. 

His  alrnagest,  and  hookes  gret  and  smale, 

His  astrylabe,  longyng  for  his  art, 

His  augryni  stoones,  leyen  faire  apart  3210 

On  schelves  couched  at  his  beddes  heed, 

His  presse  i-covered  with  a  faldyng  reed. 

And  al  above  ther  lay  a  gay  sawtrye, 

On  which  he  made  a-nightes  melodye, 

So  swetely,  that  al  the  chambur  rang : 

And  Angelus  ad  virginem  he  sang. 

And  after  that  he  sang  the  kynges  note  ; 

Ful  often  blissed  was  his  mery  throte. 

And  thus  this  sweete  clerk  his  tyme  spente, 

After  his  frendes  fyndyng  and  his  rente.  3220 

This  carpenter  had  weddid  newe  a  wyf, 
Which  that  he  loved  more  than  his  lyf : 
Of  eyghteteene  yeer  sche  was  of  age. 
Gelous  he  was,  and  heeld  hir  narwe  in  cage, 
For  sche  was  wild  and  yong,  and  he  was  old, 
And  denied  himself  belik  a  cokewold, 


3208 — alrnagest.  This  book,  the  work  of  Ptolemy,  derived  through 
the  Arabs,  was  the  cauon  of  astrological  science  among  our  forefathers  in 
the  middle  ages. 

3209. — astrylabe.  The  astrolabe  was  the  chief  instrument  for  making 
astronomical  calculations. 

3210. — augrym  stoones.  Augrim  signifies  arithmetic, — it  is  not  very 
certain  what  augrim  stones  were,  but  they  were  probably  counters  marked 
with  numerals,  and  used  for  calculating  on  a  sort  of  abacus.  Counters  for 
reckoning  with,  are  mentioned  in  Shakespeare. 

3216.  Angelus  ad  virginem.  One  of  the  hymns  of  the  church  service. 
It  is  more  difficult  to  say  what  was  the  kynges  note,  in  the  next  line. 


THE    MILLEBES    TALE.  129 

He  knew  nat  Catoun,  for  his  wit  was  rude, 

That  had  man  schulde  wedde  his  similitude. 

Men  schulde  wedde  aftir  here  astaat, 

For  eelde  and  youthe  hen  often  at  debaat.  3230 

But  syn  that  he  was  brought  into  the  snare, 

He-  moste  endure,  as  othere  doon,  his  care. 

Fair  was  the  yonge  wyf,  and  therwithal 
As  eny  wesil  hir  body  gent  and  smal. 
A  seynt  sche  wered,  barred  al  of  silk  ; 
A  barm-cloth  eek  as  whit  as  morne  my  Ik 
Upon  hir  lendes,  ful  of  many  a  gore. 
Whit  was  hir  smok,  and  browdid  al  byfore 
And  eek  byhynde  on  hir  color  aboute 
Of  cole-blak  silk,  withinne  and  eek  withoute.        3240 
The  tapes  of  hir  white  voluper 
Weren  of  tlie  same  sute  of  hire  coler ; 
Hir  filet  brood  of  silk  y-set  ful  heye. 
And  certeynly  sche  hadd  a  licorous  eyghe  : 
Ful  smal  y-pulled  weren  hir  browes  two, 
And  tho  were  bent,  as  blak  as  a  slo. 
Sche  was  wel  more  blisful  on  to  see 
Than  is  the  newo  perjonette  tree ; 
And  softer  than  the  wol  is  of  a  wethir. 
And  by  hir  gurdil  hyng  a  purs  of  lethir,  3250 


:J227. — Catoun.  Chaucer  alludes  to  the  tn  alive  or  ( lato  </.  Moribtu  ;but 
tlie  sentiment  is  not  taken  from  that,  book,  but  from  a  medieval  poem  of 

a  similar  character  entitled  FaceluS,  which  contain.-,  the  following  lines: 

Due  tilii  nrolc  parent  sponsam  moresque  venustam, 
Si  cum  pace  vclis  vitani  deducere  jastam. 


L30  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Tassid  with  silk,  and  perled  with  latoun. 

In  al  this  world  to  seken  up  and  doun 

Ther  nys  no  man  so  wys,  that  couthe  thenche 

So  gay  a  popillot,  or  such  a  wenche. 

For  brighter  was  the  schynyng  of  hir  hewe, 

Than  in  the  Tour  the  noble  i-forged  newe. 

But  of  hir  song,  it  was  as  lowde  and  yeme 

As  eny  swalwe  chiteryng  on  a  berne. 

Therto  sche  cowcle  skippe,  and  make  game, 

As  eny  kyde  or  calf  folwyng  his  dame.  32G0 

Hir  mouth  was  sweete  as  bragat  is  or  meth, 

Or  hoord  of  apples,  layd  in  hay  or  heth. 

Wynsyng  sche  was,  as  is  a  joly  colt, 

Long  as  a  mast,  and  upright  as  a  bolt. 

A  broch  sche  bar  upon  hir  loue  coleer, 

As  brod  as  is  the  bos  of  a  bocleer. 

Hir  schos  were  laced  on  hir  legges  heyghe  ; 

Sche  was  a  primerole,  a  piggesneyghe, 

For  eny  lord  have  liggyng  in  his  bedde, 

Or  yet  for  eny  good  yeman  to  wedde.  3270 

Now  sir,  and  eft  sir,  so  bifel  the  cas, 
That  on  a  day  this  heende  Nicholas 
Fil  with  this  yonge  wyf  to  rage  and  pleye, 


3255. — schynyng.  The  MS.  Harl.  reads  smylyng,  contrary  to  the 
other  MSS.  that  I  have  examined. 

3250. — noble.  The  gold  nohle  of  this  period  was  a  ver}'  beautiful  coin. 
Specimens  are  engraved  in  Ruding's  Annals  of  the  Coinage.  It  was 
coined  in  the  Tower  of  London,  the  place  of  the  principal  London 
mint. 


THE    MILLERES    TALE.  I  >J  I 

Whil  that  hir  housbond  was  at  Oseneye, 
As  clerkes  ben  ful  sotil  and  ful  queynte. 
And  pryvely  he  caught  hir  by  the  queynte, 
And  seyde ;   "  I-wis,  but  if  I  have  my  wille, 
For  deme  love  of  the,  lemman,  I  spille." 
And  heeld  hir  harde  by  the  haunche  boones, 
And  seyde,  "  Lemman,  love  me  al  at  ones, 
Or  I  wol  dye,  as  wisly  God  me  save." 

And  sehe  sprang  out  as  doth  a  colt  in  trave  : 
And  with  hir  heed  sche  wried  fast  awey, 
And  seyde,  "  I  wol  nat  kisse  the,  by  my  fey  ! 
Why  let  be,"  quod  sche,  "lat  be  thou,  Nicholas, 
Or  I  wol  crye  out  harrow  and  alias  ! 
Do  wey  your  handes  for  your  curtesye!" 
This  Nicholas  gan  mercy  for  to  crye, 
And  spak  so  faire,  and  profred  him  so  faste, 
That  sche  hir  love  him  graunted  atte  laste,  3290 

And  swor  hir  oth  by  seynt  Thomas  of  Kent, 
That  sche  wol  be  at  his  comaundement, 
Whan  that  sche  may  hir  leysir  wel  aspyc. 
1  Myn  housbond  is  so  ful  of  jelousic, 
That  but  ye  wayten  wel,  and  be  pryve, 
I  woot  right  wel  I  am  but  deed,"  quod  sche 
'  Ye  mosten  be  ful  derno  as  in  this  caas." 
'  Therof  ne  care  the  nought,"  quod  Nicholas  : 
1  A  clerk  hath  lithcrly  byset  his  while, 


.".■27  1. — Oseneye.     The  somewhat  celebrated  abbey  <>l  Oseney  stood  in 
(he  suburbs  of  Oxford. 


132 


THE    CANTERBURY    TARES. 


But  if  he  cowde  a  carpenter  bygyle." 
And  thus  they  ben  acorded  and  i-sworn 
To  wayte  a  tyme,  as  I  have  told  biforn. 

Whan  Nicholas  had  doon  thus  every  del, 
And  thakked  hire  aboute  the  lendys  wel, 
He  last  hir  sweet,  and  taketh  his  sawtrye, 
And  pleyeth  fast,,  and  maketh  melodye. 
Than  fyl  it  thus,  that  to  the  parisch  chirche 
Cristes  owen  werkes  for  to  wirche, 
This  goode  wyf  went  on  an  haly  day  : 
Hir  forheed  schon  as  bright  as  eny  day, 
So  was  it  waisschen,  whan  sche  leet  hir  werk. 

Now  ther  was  of  that  chirche  a  parisch  clerk, 
The  which  that  was  i-cleped  Absolon. 
Crulle  was  his  heer,  and  as  the  gold  it  schon, 
And  strowted  as  a  fan  right  large  and  brood ; 
Ful  streyt  and  evene  lay  his  jolly  schood. 
His  rode  was  reed,  his  eyghen  gray  as  goos, 
With  Powles  wyndowes  corven  on  his  schoos. 


3300 


3310 


3318. — Powles  wyndowes.  The  three  accompanying  figures,  taken 
from  the  paintings  formerly 
existing  on  the  walls  of  St. 
Stephen's  Chapel,  Westmin- 
ster, represent  shoes  of 
Chaucer's  time,  which  aro 
cut  in  patterns  not  unlike 
the  tracery  of  church  win- 
dows. Mr.  C.  Roach  Smith 
has  in  his  interesting  museum 
some  beautiful  samples  of  shoes  cut  in  this  manner,  more  elaborate  even 
than  these  cuts.  It  has  been  conjectured  that  the  phrase  Powles  wi/n- 
dowes,  refers  more  especially  to  the  rose  window  of  old  St.  Paul's  (a- 


THE    MJLLLEBES   TALE.  133 

In  hosen  reed  he  went  ful  fetusly. 

I-clad  he  was  ful  smal  and  propurly,  3320 

Al  in  a  kirtel  of  a  fyn  wachet ; 

Schapen  with  goores  in  the  newe  get. 

And  therupon  he  had  a  gay  surplys, 

Ad  wliyt  as  is  the  blosme  upon  the  rys. 

A  mery  child  he  was,  so  God  me  save ; 

Wei  couthe  he  lete  blood,  and  clippe  and  schave, 

And  make  a  chartre  of  lond  and  acqitaunce. 

In  twenty  maners  he  coude  skip  and  daunee, 

After  the  scole  of  Oxenforde  tho, 

And  with  his  legges  casten  to  and  fro  ;  3330 

And  pleyen  songes  on  a  small  rubible  ; 

Ther-to  he  sang  som  tyme  a  lowde  quynyble 

And  as  wel  coude  he  pleye  on  a  giterne. 

In  al  the  toun  nas  brewhous  no  tavcrne, 

That  he  ne  visited  with  his  solas, 

Ther  as  that  any  gaylard  tapster  was. 

But  soth  to  say  he  was  somdel  squaymous 

Of  fartyng,  and  of  speche  daungerous. 

This  Absolon,  that  joly  was  and  gay, 


thedral,  which  resembled  the  ornament  in  tho  cut  to  the  right.  Warton, 
Hist.  E.  P,  ii,  194,  says  that  calcei  feneslrati  occur  iu  ancient  injunc- 
tions to  the  clergy.  Chaucer,  in  tho  Roman  nt  of  the  Rose,  speaks  of 
Mirth  as, — 

Shod,  with  grete  maistrie, 

■\Vith  shone  decopid  and  with  lace. 
It  may  be  observed,  however,  that  this  is  a  literal  translation  from  the 
French  original,  decoupi. 

3322. — Instead  of  this  line,  Tvruhrtt  reads, — 

Ful  /aire  and  thicke  ben  ihi  pointes  set. 


I  3  I  THE    CANTERBURY    TARES. 

Goth  with  a  senser  on  the  haly  day,  '5;54,) 

Sensing  the  wyves  of  the  parisch  fast ; 

And  many  a  lovely  look  on  hem  he  c;ist, 

And  namely  on  this  carpenteres  wyf : 

To  loke  on  hire  him  thought  a  mcry  lyf, 

Sche  was  so  propre,  sweete,  and  licorous. 

1  dar  wel  sayn,  if  sche  had  ben  a  mous, 

Ami  ho  a  cat,  he  wold  hir  hent  anoon. 

Tliis  parisch  clerk,  this  joly  Absolon, 
Hath  in  his  herte  such  a  love  longyng, 
That  of  no  wyf  ne  took  he  noon  offryng  ;  ■"■ ;  ■' 

For  curtesy,  he  seydo,  he  wolde  noon. 
The  moono  at  night  ful  cleer  and  brighte  sohoon, 
And  Absolon  his  giterne  hath  i-take, 
For  paramours  he  seyde  he  wold  awake. 
And  forth  he  goth,  jolyf  and  amerous, 
Til  he  cam  to  the  carpenteres  hous, 
A  litel  after  the  cok  had  y-crowe, 
And  dressed  him  up  by  a  schot  wyndowe, 
That  was  under  the  carpenteres  wal. 
He  syngeth  in  his  voys  gentil  and  smal ;  3360 

"  Now  deere  lady,  if  thi  wille  be, 
I  pi  aye  yow  that  yc  wol  rcwe  on  me," 


3358.  — schot  wyndowe.  I  am  not  satisfied  with  the  explanations  of 
tliis  term  hitherto  given.  It  would  seem  rather  to  mean  a  window  pro- 
jecting from  the  wall,  from  which  the  inmates  might  shoot  upon  any  one 
who  attempted  to  force  an  entry  into  the  house  hy  the  door,  and  from 
which  therefore  it  would  be  easy  for  a  person  within  to  expose  any  part 
of  his  body  in  the  manner  expressed  in  the  sequel  of  the  story. 

3361. — Tyrwbitt  observes  that  this  and  the  following  line,  comprising 
A.bsolon's  song,  appear  to  consist  of  four  short  lines,  all  rhyming 
together 


THE    MILLKRES    TALE.  1 35 

Ful  wel  acordyng  to  his  gyternyng. 

This  carpenter  awoot,  and  herde  him  syng, 
And  spak  unto  his  wyf,  and  sayde  anoon, 
;  What,  Alisoun,  herestow  not  Absolon, 
That  chaunteth  thus  under  oure  boure  smal  ?" 
And  sche  answerd  hir  housbond  therwithal ; 
'■  Yis,  God  woot,  Johan,  I  heere  it  every  del." 

This  passeth  forth  ;  what  wil  ye  bet  than  wel?  3370 
Fro  day  to  day  this  joly  Absolon 
So  woweth  hire,  that  him  is  wo-bigon. 
He  waketh  al  the  night,  and  al  the  day, 
To  kembe  his  lokkes  brode,  and  made  him  gay. 
He  woweth  hire  by  mene,  and  by  brocage, 
And  swor  he  wolde  ben  hir  owne  page. 
He  syngeth  crowyng  as  a  nightyngale ; 
And  sent  hire  pyment,  meth,  and  spiced  ale, 
And  wafres  pypyng  hoot  out  of  the  gleede  : 
And  for  sche  was  of  toune,  he  profred  meede.       3380 
For  som  folk  wol  be  wonne  for  richesse, 
And  som  for  strokes,  som  for  gentillesse. 
Som  tyme,  to  schewe  his  lightnes  and  maistrye, 
He  plcyeth  Herod  on  a  scaffold  bye. 


3367. — smal.     Tyrwbitt,  with  some  MS8.,  reads  bourcs  ival. 

3377. — crowyng.  Some  MSS.,with  Tyrwbitt,  have  brokking. 

3378. — pyment.  Piment  was  a  kind  of  spiced  wine.  Tyi  whitt's  read- 
ing, pimics,  is  certainly  much  inferior  to  the  one  in  the  text 

3381. — pleyeth  Herod,.  Herod  was  a  favourite  part  in  the  religious 
plays,  and  was  perhaps  an  object  of  competition  among  the  performers, 
and  a  part  in  which  the  actor  endeavoured  to  shew  himself  off  with  ad- 
vantage. Every  reader  knows  Shakespeare's  phrase  of  outht  roding 
Herod. 


36  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

But  what  avaylcth  him  as  in  this  caas? 

Sche  so  loveth  this  heende  Nicholas, 

That  Absolon  may  blowe  the  bukkes  horn  : 

He  ne  had  for  al  his  labour  but  a  shorn. 

And  thus  sche  maketh  Absolon  hir  ape, 

And  al  his  ernest  tornoth  to  a  jape.  3390 

Ful  soth  is  this  proverbe,  it  is  no  lye ; 
Men  seyn  right  thus  alway,  the  ney  slye 
Maketh  the  ferre  leef  to  be  loth. 
For  though  that  Absolon  be  wood  or  wroth, 
Bycause  that  he  fer  was  from  here  sight, 
Tliis  Nicholas  hath  stonden  in  his  light. 
Now  here  the  wel,  thou  heende  Nicholas, 
For  Absolon  may  wayle  and  synge  alias. 

And  so  bifelle  it  on  a  Satyrday, 
This  carpenter  was  gon  to  Osenay,  3400 

And  heende  Nicholas  and  Alisoun 
Acordid  ben  to  this  conclusioun, 
That  Nicholas  schal  schapen  hem  a  wylc 
This  sely  jelous  housbond  to  begyle  ; 
And  if  so  were  this  game  wente  aright, 
Sche  schulde  slepe  in  his  arm  al  night, 
For  this  was  hire  desir  and  his  also. 


3387. — blowe  the  bukkes  horn.      I  presume  this  was  a  service  that 
generally  went  unrewarded. 

3391. — this  proverbe.     The  same  proverb  is  found  in  Gower  (Couf. 
Amant.  lib.  iii,  f.  58), — 

An  olile  sawe  is  :  who  that  is  slygh 
In  place  wher  he  may  he  nyghe, 
He  maketh  the  ferre  leef  loth. 


TIIE    MILLEBES    TALE.  137 

And  right  anoon,  withouten  wordes  mo, 

This  Nicholas  no  lengcr  wold  he  tarye, 

But  doth  fid  softe  into  his  chambur  carye  34io 

Bothe  mete  and  drynke  for  a  day  or  tweyc. 

And  to  hir  housbond  bad  hir  for  to  seye, 

If  that  he  axed  after  Nicholas, 

Sche  schulde  seye,  sche  wiste  nat  wher  he  was  ; 

Of  al  that  day  sche  saw  him  nat  with  eye  ; 

Sche  trowed  he  were  falle  in  som  maladye, 

For  no  cry  that  hir  mayden  cowde  him  calle 

He  nolde  answere,  for  nought  that  may  bifalle. 

Thus  passeth  forth  al  that  ilke  Satyrday, 
That  Nicholas  stille  in  his  chambre  lay,  342<> 

And  eet,  and  drank,  and  dede  what  him  leste 
Til  Soneday  the  sonne  was  gon  to  reste. 

This  sely  carpenter  hath  gret  mervaile 
Of  Nicholas,  or  what  thing  may  him  ayle, 
And  seyde,  "  I  am  adrad,  by  seynt  Thomas  ! 
It  stondeth  nat  aright  with  Nicholas  : 
God  schilde  that  he  deyde  sodeinly. 
This  world  is  now  ful  tykel  sikerly  ; 
I  saugh  to  day  a  corps  y-born  to  chirche, 
That  now  on  Monday  last  I  saugh  him  wirche.     3430 
Go  up,"  quod  he  unto  his  knave,  "  anoon  ; 
Clepe  at  his  dore,  or  knokke  with  a  stoon  : 
Lokc  how  it  is,  and  telle  me  boldely." 
This  knave  goth  him  up  ful  sturdily, 
And  al  the  chambir  dore  whil  he  stood, 
lie  cryed  and  knokked  us  that  he  were  wood  : 


138  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

"  What  how '?  what  do  ye,  mayster  Nicholay  ? 
How  may  ye  slepen  al  this  longe  clay  ?" 
But  al  for  nought,  he  herde  nat  o  word. 
An  hole  he  fond  right  lowe  upon  the  boord,  3440 

Ther  as  the  cat  was  wont  in  for  to  creepe, 
And  at  that  hole  he  loked  in  ful  deepe, 
And  atte  laste  he  hadde  of  him  a  sight. 
This  Nicholas  sat  ever  gapyng  upright. 
As  he  had  loked  on  the  newe  moone. 
Adoun  he  goth,  and  tolde  his  mayster  soone, 
In  what  aray  he  sawh  this  ilke  man. 
This  carpenter  to  blessen  hini  bygan, 
And  seyde,  "  Now  help  us,  seynte  Frideswyde. 
A  man  woot  litel  what  him  schal  betyde.  ;>'  ■" 

This  man  is  falle  with  his  astronomye 
In  som  woodnesse,  or  in  som  agonye. 
I  thought  ay  wel  how  that  it  schulde  be. 
Men  schulde  nought  knowe  of  Goddes  pryvyte. 
Ye,  blessed  be  alwey  a  lewed  man, 
That  nat  but  oonly  his  bileeve  can. 
So  ferde  another  clerk  with  astronomye  ; 
He  walked  in  the  feeldes  for  to  prye 
Upon  the  sterres,  what  ther  schulde  bifalle, 
Til  he  was  in  a  marie  pit  i- falle.  34 go 

He  saugh  nat  that.     But  yet,  by  seint  Thomas ! 

3449. — seynte  Frideswyde.  This  saint  was  appropriately  invoked  by 
the  carpenter,  as  she  was  the  patron  of  a  rich  monastic  house  at  Oxford. 

3 160. — in  a  marie  pit.  This  tale,  told  of  Thales  by  Plato,  was  very 
popular  in  the  middle  ages,  and  is  found  under  different  forms  in  a 
variety  of  collections  of  stories. 


THE    MILLEIiES    TALE.  L39 

Me  reweth  sore  for  heende  Nicholas  : 
He  schal  be  ratyd  of  his  studyyng, 
If  that  I  may,  by  Jhesu  heveu  kyng ! 
Gete  me  a  staf,  that  I  may  undersporc, 
Whil  that  thou,  Robyn,  hevest  up  the  dore  : 
He  schal  out  of  his  studyyng,  as  I  gesse." 
And  to  the  chambir  dore  he  gan  him  dresse. 
His  knave  was  a  strong  karl  for  the  noones, 
And  by  the  hasp  he  haf  it  up  at  oones  ;  ■"•  •  i  ■' 

And  in  the  floor  the  dore  fil  doun  anoon. 
This  Nicholas  sat  stille  as  eny  stoon, 
And  ever  he  gapyd  up-ward  to  the  eyr. 
This  carpenter  wende  he  were  in  despeir, 
And  hent  him  by  the  schuldres  mightily, 
And  schook  him  harde,  and  cryed  spitously  ; 
"  What,  Nicholas?  what  how  man?  loke  adoun  : 
Awake,  and  thynk  on  Cristes  passioun. 
I  crowche  the  from  elves,  and  from  wightes. 
Therwith  the  night-spel  seycle  he  anon  rightes,    3480 
On  the  foure  halves  of  the  hous  aboute, 
And  on  the  threisshfold  of  the  dore  withoute. 
Lord  Jhesu  Crist,  and  seynte  Benedight, 
Blcsse  this  hous  from  every  wikkede  wight, 
Fro  nyghtes  verray,  the  white  Pater-noster ; 
Whcr  wonestow  now,  seynte  Pctres  soster  ?" 
And  atte  lastc,  heende  Nicholas 
Gan  for  to  syke  sore,  and  seyde  ;  "Alias  ! 

3485.     verray.     This  is  the  reading  of  the  MSS.  I  have  consulted 
Tyiwhitt  reads  mare,  which  is  perhaps  right. 


140  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Schal  al  the  world  be  lost  eftsones  now  ?" 
This  carpenter  answerde,  "  What  seystow  ?  3490 

What?  thenk  on  God,  as  we  doom  men  that  swinkc" 
This  Nicholas  answerde,  "  Fette  me  drynke  ; 
And  after  wol  I  speke  in  pryvyte 
Of  certeyn  thing  that  toucheth  the  and  me  : 
I  wol  telle  it  non  other  man  certayn." 
This  carpenter  goth  forth,  and  comth  agayn, 
And  brought  of  mighty  ale  a  large  quart. 
Whan  ech  of  hem  y-dronken  had  his  part, 
This  Nicholas  his  dore  gan  to  schitte, 
And  dede  this  carpenter  doun  by  him  sitte,  3500 

And  seide,  "  Johan,  myn  host  ful  leve  and  deere, 
Thou  schalt  upon  thy  trouthe  swere  me  heere, 
That  to  no  wight  thou  schalt  this  counsel  wreye  : 
For  it  is  Cristes  counsel  that  I  seye, 
And  if  thou  telle  it  man,  thou  art  forlore  : 
For  this  vengaunce  thou  schalt  ban  therfore, 
That  if  thou  wreye  me,  thou  schalt  be  wood." 
"  Nay,  Crist  forbede  it  for  his  holy  blood  !" 
Quod  tho  this  sely  man,  "  I  am  no  labbe. 
Though  I  it  say,  I  am  nought  leef  to  gabbe.         3510 
Say  what  thou  wolt,  I  schal  it  never  telle 
To  cliild  ne  wyf,  by  him  that  harwed  belle !" 

"Now,  Johan,"  quod  Nicholas,  "  I  wol  not  lye, 
I  have  i-foimde  in  myn  astrologye, 
As  I  have  loked  in  the  moone  bright, 

3512. — him  that  harwed  helk.  Our  Saviour.  The  harrowing  of  hell 
was  a  very  popular  legend  among  our  forefathers,  and  found  a  place  in 
most  of  the  collections  of  mysteries,  from  which  representations  the  lower 

orders  obtained  their  notions  of  scripture  history  and  theology. 


THE    MILLERES    TALE.  141 

That  now  on  Monday  next,  at  quarter  night, 
Schal  falle  a  reyn,  and  that  so  wilde  and  wood, 
That  half  so  gret  was  never  Noes  flood. 
This  world,"  he  seyde,  "more  than  an  hour 
Schal  ben  i-dreynt,  so  hidous  is  the  schourr         3520 
Thus  schal  mankynde  drenche,  and  leese  his  lyf." 
This  carpenter  answered,  "Alias,  my  wyf! 
And  schal  sche  drenche?  alias,  myn  Alisoun  !" 
For  sorwe  of  this  he  fel  almost  adoun, 
And  seyde,  "  Is  ther  no  remedy  in  this  caas?'! 
"  Why  yis,  for  Gode,"  quod  heende  Nicholas  : 
"If  thou  wolt  werken  aftir  lore  and  reed  ; 
Thou  maist  nought  worke  after  thin  owen  heed 
For  thus  seith  Salomon,  that  was  ful  trewe, 
Werke  by  counseil,  and  thou  schalt  nat  rewe.       3530 
And  if  thou  worken  wolt  by  good  counsail, 
I  undertake,  withouten  mast  and  sail, 
Yet  schal  I  saven  hir,  and  the  and  me. 
Hastow  nat  herd  how  saved  was  Noe, 
Whan  that  our  Lord  had  warned  him  biforn, 
Thatal  the  world  with  watir  schulde  be  lorn?'' 
"Yis,"  quod  this  carpenter,  "ful  yore  ago." 
"  Hastow  nought  herd,"  quod  Nicholas,  "also 
The  sorwe  of  Noe  with  his  felaschipe, 
That  he  hadde  or  he  gat  his  wyf  to  schipc  ?  3.540 


3540 — his  wyf.  According  to  a  medieval  legend,  Noah's  wife  was  un- 
willing to  go  into  the  ark,  and  the  quarrel  between  her  ami  her  husband 
makes  a  prominent  part  of  the  play  of"  Noahs  flood,  in  the  Chester  ami 
Towneley  Mysteries. 


142  T1IF.    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Him  hadde  wel  lever,  I  dar  wel  undertake, 

At  thilke  tyme,  than  alle  his  wetheres  blake, 

That  sche  hadde  had  a  schip  hirself  allone. 

And  therfore  wostow  what  is  best  to  doone  ? 

This  axeth  hast,  and  of  an  hasty  thing 

Men  may  nought  preche  or  make  tarvyng. 

Anon  go  gete  us  fast  into  this  in 

A  knedyng  trowh  or  elles  a  kemelvn, 

For  ech  of  us  ;  but  loke  that  they  be  large, 

In  which  that  we  may  rowe  as  in  a  barge :  3550 

And  have  therin  vitaillc  suffisant 

But  for  o  day  ;  fy  on  the  remenant ; 

The  water  schal  aslake  and  gon  away 

Aboute  prime  uppon  the  nexte  day. 

But  Robyn  may  not  wite  of  this,  thy  knave, 

Ne  ek  thy  mayde  Gille  I  may  not  save  : 

Aske  nought  why  :  for  though  thou  aske  me, 

I  wol  nat  tellen  Goddes  pryvete. 

Sufficeth  the,  but  if  that  thy  witt  madde, 

To  have  as  gret  a  grace  as  Noe  hadde.  3560 

Thy  wyf  schal  I  wel  saven  out  of  doute. 

Go  now  thy  wey,  and  speed  the  heer  aboute 

And  whan  thou  hast  for  hir,  and  the,  and  me, 

I-goten  us  this  knedyng  tubbes  thre, 

Than  schalt  thou  hange  hem  in  the  roof  ful  hie, 

That  no  man  of  oure  purveaunce  aspye : 

And  whan  thou  thus  hast  doon  as  I  have  seyd, 

And  hast  oure  vitaillc  faire  in  hem  y-leyd, 

And  eek  ;m  ax  to  smyte  the  corde  a-two 


THE    MILLERES    TALE.  143 

Whan  that  the  water  cometh,  that  we  may  goo,    3570 

And  breke  an  hole  an  hye  upon  the  gable 

Into  the  gardyn-ward,  over  the  stable, 

That  we  may  frely  passen  forth  oure  way, 

Whan  that  the  grete  schour  is  gon  away  ; 

Than  schaltow  swymme  as  mery,  I  undertake, 

As  doth  the  white  doke  aftir  hir  drake : 

Than  wol  I  clepe,  How  Alisoim,  how  Jon, 

Beoth  merye  :  for  the  flood  passeth  anon. 

And  thou  wolt  seye,  Heyl,  maister  Nicholay, 

Good  morn,  I  see  the  wel,  for  it  is  day.  3580 

And  than  schul  we  be  lordes  al  oure  lyf 

Of  al  the  world,  as  Noe  and  his  wyf. 

But  of  oo  thing  I  wame  the  ful  right, 

Be  wel  avysed  of  that  ilke  nyght, 

That  we  ben  entred  into  schippes  boord, 

That  non  of  us  ne  speke  not  a  word, 

Ne  clepe  ne  ciye,  but  be  in  his  preyere, 

For  it  is  Goddes  owne  heste  deere. 

Thy  wyf  and  thou  most  hangen  fer  a-twynne, 

For  (hat  bitwixc  you  schal  be  no  synnc,  3590 

No  more  in  lokyng  than  ther  schul  in  dede. 

This  ordynaunce  is  scyd ;  so  God  me  speede. 

To  morwe  at  night,  whan  men  ben  aslepc, 

Into  our  knedyng  tubbes  wol  we  crepe, 

And  sitte  ther,  abydyng  Goddes  grace. 

Go  now  thy  way,  I  have  no  longer  span 

3)77. — Jon.     See,  furilicr  on,  the  note  on  1.  Hill. 


144  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

To  make  of  this  no  longer  sermonyng  ; 

Men  seyn  thus :  send  the  wyse,  and  sey  no  thing  : 

Thou  art  so  wys,  it  needeth  nat  the  teche. 

Go,  save  oure  lyf,  and  that  I  the  byseche."  3600 

This  seely  carpenter  goth  forth  his  way, 
Ful  ofte  he  seyd,  "alias,  and  weylaway!" 
And  to  his  wyf  he  told  his  pryvete, 
And  sche  was  war,  and  knew  it  bet  than  he, 
What  al  this  queinte  cast  was  for  to  seye. 
But  natheles  sche  ferd  as  sche  schuld  deyc, 
And  seyde,  "Alias!  go  forth  thy  way  anoon, 
Help  us  to  skape,  or  we  be  ded  echon. 
I  am  thy  verray  trewe  wedded  wyf; 
Go,  deere  spouse,  and  help  to  save  oure  lyf."       3610 
Lo,  which  a  gret  thing  is  affeccioun  ! 
A  man  may  dye  for  ymaginacioui), 
So  deepe  may  impressioun  be  take. 
This  seely  carpenter  bygynneth  quake : 
Him  thenketh  verrayly  that  he  may  sc 
Noes  flood  come  walking  as  the  see 
To  drenchen  Alisoun,  his  hony  deere. 
He  weepeth,  wayleth,  maketh  sory  cheere : 
He  siketh,  with  ful  many  a  sory  swough, 
And  goth,  and  geteth  him  a  knedyng  trougli,       3620 
And  after  that  a  tubbe,  and  a  kymelyn, 
And  pryvely  he  sent  hem  to  his  in  : 
And  heng  hem  in  the  roof  in  pryvete. 
His  owne  hond  than  made  laddres  thre, 
To  clymben  by  the  rouges  and  the  stalkes 


THE    M1LLERES    TALE,  145 

Unto  the  tubbes  hangyng  in  the  balkos ; 
And  hem  vitayled,  bothe  trough  and  tubbe, 

With  breed  and  cheese,  with  good  ale  in  a  jubbe, 
Sufhsyng  right  ynough  as  for  a  day. 
But  or  that  he  had  maad  al  this  array,  3630 

He  sent  his  knave  and  eek  his  wenche  also 
Upon  his  neede  to  Londone  for  to  go. 
And  on  the  Monday,  whan  it  drew  to  nyght, 
He  schette  his  dore,  withouten  candel  light, 
And  dressed  al  this  thing  as  it  schuld  be. 
And  schortly  up  they  clumben  alle  thre. 
They  seten  stille  wel  a  forlong  way  : 
;  Now,  Pater  Noster,  clum,"  quod  Nicholay, 
And  "  clum,"  quod  Jon,  and  "  clum,"  quod  Alisoun. 
This  carpenter  seyd  his  devocioun,  3640 

And  stille  he  sitt,  and  byddeth  his  prayere, 
Ay  waytyng  on  the  reyn,  if  he  it  heere. 
The  deede  sleep,  for  verray  busynesse, 
Fil  on  this  carpenter,  right  as  I  gesse, 
Abowten  courfew  tyme,  or  litel  more. 
For  travail  of  his  goost  he  groneth  sore. 
And  eft  he  routeth,  for  his  heed  myslay. 
Doun  of  the  laddir  stalketh  Nicholay, 
And  Alisoun  ful  softe  adoun  hir  spedde. 
Withouten  wordes  mo  they  goon  to  bedde,  3650 

Ther  as  the  carpenter  was  wont  to  lye  ; 
Ther  was  the  revel,  and  the  melodye. 
And  thus  litli  Alisoun  and  Nicholas, 
In  busynesse  of  myrthe  and  of  solas. 


146  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Til  that  the  belles  of  laudes  gan  to  rynge, 
And  freres  in  the  chauncel  gan  to  synge. 

This  parissch  clerk,  this  amerous  Absolon, 
That  is  for  love  so  harde  and  woo  bygon, 
Upon  the  Monday  was  at  Osenay 
With  company,  him  to  desporte  and  play  ;  3660 

And  axed  upon  caas  a  cloysterer 
Ful  pryvely  after  the  carpenter  ; 
And  he  drough  him  apart  out  of  the  chirche, 
And  sayde,  "  Nay,  I  say  him  nat  here  wirche 
Syn  Satirclay  ;  I  trow  that  he  he  went 
For  tymber,  ther  our  abbot  hath  him  sent. 
For  he  is  wont  for  tymber  for  to  goo, 
And  dwellen  at  the  Graunge  a  day  or  tuo. 
Or  elles  he  is  at  his  hous  certayn. 
Wher  that  he  be,  I  can  nat  sothly  sayn."  3670 

This  Absolon  ful  joly  was  and  light, 
And  thoughte,  "  Now  is  tyme  wake  al  niglit, 
For  sikerly  I  sawh  him  nought  styryng 
Aboute  his  dore,  syn  day  bigan  to  spryng. 
So  mote  I  thryve,  I  schal  at  cokkes  crowe 
Ful  pryvely  go  knokke  at  his  wyndowe, 


3655. — belles  of  laudes.  The  service  of  Laudes  or  Matins  began  at 
three  o'clock  in  the  morning.  The  bell  was  naturally  rung  a  little  before, 
and  perhaps  began  at  half-past  two. 

3668. — the  Graunge.  The  abbeys  had  generally  large  granges  attached 
to  their  more  considerable  estates,  erected  with  so  much  strength  that 
many  of  them  have  outlived  the  monasteries  themselves.  The  distance 
of  some  of  the  estates  from  the  abbey  would  naturally  oblige  those  who 
went  on  business  to  stay  a  day  or  two  away. 


THE    MILLEKES    TALE.  147 

That  stunt  fill  lowe  upon  his  bowres  wal : 
To  Alisoun  than  wol  I  tellen  al 
My  love-longyng  ;  for  yet  I  sehal  not  mysse 
That  atte  leste  wey  I  schal  hir  kisse.  3680 

Som  maner  comfort  schal  I  have,  parfay  ! 
My  mouth  hath  icched  al  this  longe  day  : 
That  is  a  signe  of  kissyng  atte  leste. 
Al  nyght  I  mette  eek  I  was  at  a  feste. 
Therfore  I  wol  go  slepe  an  hour  or  tweye, 
And  al  the  night  than  wol  I  wake  and  pleye." 
Whan  that  the  firste  cok  hath  crowe,  anoon 
Up  ryst  this  jolyf  lover  Absolon, 
And  him  arrayeth  gay,  at  poynt  devys. 
But  first  he  cheweth  greyn  and  lycoris,  3690 

To  smellen  swete,  or  he  hadde  kempt  his  heere. 
Under  his  tunge  a  trewe  love  he  beere, 
For  therby  wencle  he  to  be  gracious. 
He  rometh  to  the  carpenteres  hous, 
And  stille  he  stant  under  the  schot  wyndowe  ; 
Unto  his  brest  it  raught,  it  was  so  lowe  ; 
And  softe  he  cowhith  with  a  semysoun  : 
'  What  do  ye,  honycomb,  swete  Alisoun  ? 
My  fayre  bryd,  my  swete  cynamome, 
Awake,  lemman  myn,  and  speketh  to  me.  3700 

Ful  litel  thynkc  ye  upon  my  wo, 
That  for  youre  love  I  swelte  ther  I  go. 


3000. — greyn.     Grains  of  Paris,  or  Paradise,  a  favourite  spice  at  this 
period. 

l.  2 


148  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

No  wonder  is  if  that  I  swelte  and  swete, 
I  morne  as  doth  a  lamb  after  the  tete. 
I-wis,  lemman,  I  have  such  love-longyng, 
That  like  a  turtil  trewe  is  my  moomyng. 
I  may  not  ete  more  than  a  mayde." 

"  Go  fro  the  wyndow,  jakke  fool,"  sche  sayde  : 

"  As  help  me  God,  it  wol  not  be,  compame. 
I  love  another,  andelles  were  I  to  blame,  3710 

Wei  bet  than  the,  by  Jhesu,  Absolon. 
Go  forth  thy  wey,  or  I  wol  cast  a  stoon ; 
And  lete  me  slepe,  a  twenty  devel  way  !" 

"  Alias  !"  quod  Absolon,  "  and  weylaway  ! 
That  trewe  love  was  ever  so  ylle  bysett : 
Thanne  kisseth  me,  syn  it  may  be  no  bett, 
For  Jesus  love,  and  for  the  love  of  me." 

"  Wilt  thou  than  go  thy  wey  therwith  ?"  quod  sche. 

"Ye,  certes,  lemman,"  quod  this  Absolon. 

"  Than  mak  the  redy,"  quod  sche,  "  I  come  anon."  3720 
This  Absolon  doun  sette  him  on  his  knees, 
And  seide,  "  I  am  a  lord  at  alle  degrees: 
For  after  this  I  hope  ther  cometh  more  ; 
Lemman,  thy  grace,  and,  swete  bryd,  thyn  ore." 
The  wyndow  sche  undyd,  and  that  in  hast : 

"  Have  doon,"  quod  sche,  "  com  of,  and  speed  the  fast, 
Lest  that  our  neygheboures  the  aspye." 
This  Absolon  gan  wipe  his  mouth  ful  drye. 
Derk  was  the  night,  as  picche  or  as  a  cole, 
Out  atte  wyndow  putte  sche  hir  hole  ;  3730 

And  Absolon  him  fel  no  bet  ne  wers, 


Till:    M1LLERES    TALE.  1  i9 

But  with  his  mouth  he  kist  hir  naked  ers 
Ful  savorly.  Whan  he  was  war  of  this, 
Ahak  he  sterte,  and  thought  it  was  amys, 
For  wel  he  wist  a  womman  hath  no  herd. 
He  felt  a  thing  al  rough  and  long  i-herd, 
And  seyde,  "Fy,  alias  !  what  have  I  do?" 

"  Te-hee!"  quod  sche,  and  clapt  the  wyndow  to  ; 
And  Ahsolon  goth  forth  a  sory  paas. 

"  A  berd,  a  herd  !"  quod  heende  Nicholas  ;  3740 

"  By  goddes  corps,  this  game  goth  fair  and  wel." 
This  seely  Absolon  herd  every  del, 
And  on  his  lippe  he  gan  for  angir  byte  ; 
And  to  himself  he  seyde,  "  I  schal  the  quyte." 

Who  rubbith  now,  who  froteth  now  his  lippes 
With  dust,  with  sand,  with   straw,  with  cloth,   with 
But  Absolon?  that  seith  ful  ofte,  "  alias  ;     [chippes, 
My  soule  bytake  I  unto  Sathanas  ! 
But  me  were  lever  than  alle  this  toun,"  quod  he, 

"  Of  this  dispit  awroken  for  to  be.  3750 

Alias!"  quod  he,  "alias  !   I  nadde  bleynt!" 
His  hoote  love  was  cold,  and  al  i-queint. 
For  fro  that  tyme  that  he  had  lust  her  ers, 
Of  paramours  no  sette  he  nat  a  kers, 
For  he  was  helyd  of  his  maledye  ; 
Ful  ofte  paramours  he  gan  deffye, 
And  wept  as  doth  a  child  that  is  i-bete. 
A  softe  paas  went  he  over  the  strete 
Unto  a  sinvtli,  men  elepith  daun  Gerveys, 
Thai  in  bis  forge  smythed  plowh-harneys ;  3760 


150  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

He  scharpeth  schar  and  cultre  bysily. 
This  Absolon  knokketh  al  esily, 
And  seyde,  "Undo,  Gervays,  and  that  anoon." 
"  What,  who  art  thou?"  "  It  am  I  Absolon." 
"  What?  Absolon,  what?  Cristes  swete  tree  ! 
Why  ryse  ye  so  rathe  ?   benedicite, 
What  eyleth  you  ?  some  gay  gurl,  God  it  woot, 
Hath  brought  you  thus  upon  the  verytrot ; 
By  seinte  Noet!  ye  wot  wel  what  I  mene." 
This  Absolon  ne  rough te  nat  a  bene  377° 

Of  al  his  pleye  ;  no  word  agayn  he  gaf ; 
For  he  hadde  more  tow  on  his  distaf 
Than  Gerveys  knew,  and  seyde, — "  Freend  so  deere, 
That  hote  cultre  in  the  chymney  heere 
As  lene  it  me,  I  have  therwith  to  doone : 
I  wol  it  bring  agayn  to  the  ml  soone." 
Gerveys  answerde,  "  Certes,  were  it  gold, 
Or  in  a  poke  nobles  al  untold, 
Ye  schul  him  have,  as  I  am  trewe  smyth. 
Ey,  Cristes  fote  !    what  wil  ye  do  therwith  ?"        3780 
"  Therof,"  quod  Absolon,  "  be  as  be  may  ; 
I  schal  wel  telle  it  the  to  morwe  day  :" 


3767. — gay  gurl.  This  appears  to  have  been  a  common  phrase  for  a 
young  woman  of  light  manners.  In  the  time  of  Henry  VIII,  the  lady 
Anne  Berkeley,  dissatisfied  with  the  conduct  of  her  danghter-in  law,  lady 
Catherine  Howard,  is  reported  to  have  said  of  her:  "  By  God's  blessed 
sacrament,  this</«f/  girle  will  beggar  my  son  Henry  !" 

3769. — white  Noet.     St.  Neot. 

3772. — tow  on  his  distaf.  This  seems  to  have  been  a  common  proverb 
of  the  time.  Tyrwhitt  quotes  from  Froissart,  "II  aura  en  href  temps 
antres  estoupes  en  sa  qnenille." 


THE    MILLERES    TALE.  151 

And  caughte  the  cultre  by  the  colcle  stele. 

Ful  soft  out  at  the  clore  he  gan  it  stele, 

And  wente  unto  the  carpenteres  wal. 

He  cowheth  first,  and  knokketh  therwithal 

Upon  the  wyndow,  right  as  he  dede  er. 

This  Alisoun  answerde,  "  Who  is  ther 

That  knokkest  so?  I  warant  it  a  theef." 
"  Why  nay,"  quod  he,  "  God  woot,  my  sweete  leef,  3790 

I  am  thyn  Absolon,  o  my  derlyng. 

Of  gold,"  quod  he,  "  I  have  the  brought  a  ryng, 

My  mooder  gaf  it  me,  so  God  me  save  ! 

Ful  fyn  it  is,  and  therto  wel  i-grave  : 

This  wol  I  give  the,  if  thou  me  kisse." 

This  Nicholas  was  rise  for  to  pysse, 

And  thought  he  wold  amenden  al  the  jape, 

He  schulde  kisse  his  ers  or  that  he  skape  : 

And  up  the  wyndow  dyde  he  hastily, 

And  out  his  ers  putteth  he  pryvely  380° 

Over  the  buttok,  to  the  haunche  bon. 

And  therwith  spak  this  clerk,  this  Absolon, 
"  Spek,  sweete  bryd,  I  wot  nat  wher  thou  art." 

This  Nicholas  anon  let  flee  a  fart, 

As  gret  as  if  had  ben  a  thundir  dent, 

And  with  that  strook  he  was  almost  i-blent : 

And  ho  was  redy  with  his  yren  hoot, 

And  Nicholas  amid  the  ers  he  smoot. 

Of  goth  the  skyn  an  hande-bredc  aboute, 

The  hoote  cultre  brente  so  his  toute;  3810 

And  for  the  smert  he  wende  for  to  dye  ; 


152  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Aa  he  were  wood,  anon  he  gan  to  crye, 
"  Help,  watir,  watir,  help,  for  Goddes  herte  !" 
This  carpenter  out  of  his  slumber  sterte, 
And  herd  on  crye  watir,  as  he  wer  wood, 
And  thought,  "Alias,  now  corneth  Noes  flood!" 
He  sit  him  up  withoute  wordes  mo, 
And  with  his  ax  he  smot  the  corde  a-two  ; 
And  doun  he  goth  ;  he  fond  nowthir  to  selle 
No  breed  ne  ale,  til  he  com  to  the  selle  3820 

Upon  the  floor,  and  ther  aswoun  he  lay. 
Up  styrt  hir  Alisoun,  and  Nicholay, 
And  cryden,  "out  and  harrow  !"  in  the  strete. 
The  neyghebours  bothe  smal  and  grete 
In  ronnen,  for  to  gauren  on  this  man, 
That  yet  aswowne  lay,  bothe  pale  and  wan  : 
For  with  the  fal  he  brosten  had  his  arm. 
But  stond  he  muste  to  his  owne  harm, 
For  whan  he  spak,  he  was  anon  born  doun 
With  heende  Nicholas  and  Alisoun.  3830 

They  tolden  every  man  that  he  was  wood; 
He  was  agast  and  feerd  of  Noes  flood 
Thurgh  fantasie,  that  of  his  vanite 
He  hadde  i-bought  him  knedyng  tubbes  thre, 
And  hadde  hem  hanged  in  the  roof  above; 
And  that  he  preyed  hem  for  Goddes  love 
To  sitten  in  the  roof  par  compaignye. 


3819  — to  selle.     So  in  the  fabliau  of  Aloul,  in  Karbazan,  1.  591, 
Qu'ainr  tant  rome  il  mist  a  descendre 
Ne  trova  point  do  pain  a  vendrc. 


PROLOG K  OF  THE  REEVE.  153 

The  folk  gan  lawhen  at  his  fantasye  ; 

Into  the  roof  they  kyken,  and  they  gape, 
And  torne  al  his  harm  into  a  jape.  3840 

For  what  so  ever  the  carpenter  answerde, 
It  was  for  nought,  no  man  his  resoun  herde, 
With  othis  greet  he  was  so  sworn  adoun, 
That  he  was  holden  wood  in  al  the  toun. 
For  every  clerk  anon  right  heeld  with  othir; 
They  seyde,  "  The  man  was  wood,  my  leeve  brother;" 
And  every  man  gan  lawhen  at  his  stryf. 
Thus  swyved  was  the  carpenteres  wyf, 
For  al  his  kepyng,  and  his  gelousye ; 
And  Absolon  hath  kist  hir  nethir  ye ;  3850 

And  Nicholas  is  skaldid  in  his  towte. 
This  tale  is  doon,  and  God  save  al  the  route. 

THE  PROLOGE  OF  THE  REEVE. 

Whan  folk  hadde  lawhen  of  this  nyce  caas 
Of  Absolon  and  heende  Nicholas, 
Dyverse  folk  dyversely  they  seyde, 
But  for  the  moste  part  they  lowh  and  pleyde: 
Ne  at  this  tale  I  sawh  no  man  him  grove, 
But  it  were  oonly  Osewald  the  Reeve. 
Bycause  he  was  of  carpentrye  craft, 
A  litel  ire  in  his  herte  is  laft;  3860 

He  gan  to  grucchc  and  blamed  it  a  lite. 
'  So  theek,"  quod  he,  "  ful  wel  coude  I  the  quyte 
Witli  bleryng  of  a  prowd  mylleres  ye, 


154  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

If  that  me  luste  speke  of  ribaudye. 

But  yk  am  old ;  me  list  not  pley  for  age ; 

Gras  tyme  is  doon,  my  foddir  is  now  forage. 

My  whyte  top  writeth  myn  olde  yeeres ; 

Myn  hert  is  al  so  moulyd  as  myn  lieeres ; 

But  yit  I  fare  as  doth  an  open-ers ; 

That  ilke  fruyt  is  ever  lenger  the  wers,  3870 

Til  it  be  rote  in  mullok,  or  in  stree. 

We  olde  men,  I  drede,  so  fare  we, 

Til  we  be  roten,  can  we  nat  be  rype ; 

We  hoppen  alway,  whil  the  world  wol  pype ; 

For  in  oure  wil  ther  stiketh  ever  a  nayl, 

To  have  an  hoor  heed  and  a  greene  tayl, 

As  hath  a  leek;  for  though  oure  might  be  doon, 

Oure  wil  desireth  folye  ever  in  oon : 

For  whan  we  may  nat  do,  than  wol  we  speke, 

Yet  in  oure  aisshen  old  is  fyr  i-reke.  3880 

Foure  gledys  have  we,  which  I  schal  devyse, 

Avanting,  lyyng,  augur,  coveytise. 

This  foure  sparkys  longen  unto  eelde. 

Oure  olde  lymes  mowen  be  unweelde, 

But  wil  ne  schal  nat  fayle  us,  that  is  soth. 

And  yet  I  have  alwey  a  coltes  toth, 

As  many  a  yeer  as  it  is  passed  henne, 

Syn  that  my  tappe  of  lyf  bygan  to  renne. 

For  sikirlik,  whan  I  was  born,  anon 

Deth  drough  the  tappe  of  lyf,  and  leet  it  goon :    3890 

And  now  so  longe  hath  the  tappe  i-ronne. 

Til  that  almost  al  empty  is  the  tonne 


PROLOGE  OF  THE  REEVE.  155 

The  streem  of  lyf  now  droppeth  on  the  chymbe. 
The  sely  tonge  may  wel  rynge  and  chimbe 
Of  wrecchednes,  that  passed  is  ful  yoore : 
With  olde  folk,  sauf  dotage,  is  no  more." 

Whan  that  oure  Host  had  herd  this  sermonyng, 
He  gan  to  speke  as  lordly  as  a  kyng, 
And  seyde,  "What  amounteth  al  this  wit? 
What?  schul  we  speke  al  day  of  holy  wryt?         3900 
The  devyl  made  a  reve  for  to  preche, 
Or  of  a  sowter  a  schipman,  or  a  leche. 
Sey  forth  thi  tale  and  tarye  nat  the  tyme : 
Lo  heer  is  Depford,  and  it  is  passed  prime: 
Lo  Grenewich,  ther  many  a  schrewe  is  inne ; 
It  were  al  tyme  thi  tale  to  bygynne." 

"  Now,  sires,"  quod  this  Osewold  the  Reeve, 
I  pray  yow  alle,  that  noon  of  you  him  greeve, 
Though  I  answere,  and  somwhat  sette  his  howve, 
For  leeful  is  with  force  force  to  schowve.  39 10 


3902.  Ex  sutore  nauclerus,  and  ex  sutore  medicus,  were  both  popular 
proverbs,  and  are  found  in  medieval  Latin  writers. 

390 I. — passed  prime.  Tyrwhitt  reads  half-way  prime,  and  observes, "  in 
the  discourse,  &c.  §  xiv,  I  have  supposed  that  this  means  half  past  prime, 
about  half  an  hour  after  seven  a.m.  the  half  way  between  Prime  and  Terce. 
In  the  fictitious  Modus  tenendi  parliamentum,  a  book  not  much  older 
than  Chaucer,  Hora  media  primes  seems  to  be  used  in  the  same  sense, 
c.  de  diebus  et  hnris  parliaments  MS.  Cotton.  Nero.  D.  vi.  On  common 
days  Parliamentum  debet  inchoari  hora  media;  prima? — in  diebus  festivis 
hora  prima  propter  divinum  servitium.  In  a  contemporary  French  trans- 
lation of  this  treatise,  MS.  Hurl.  305,  liora  media  prima  is  rendered  «  la 
my  heure  le  prime ;  in  an  old  English  version,  MS.  Harl.  930,  the  oure 
of  myd  pryme  :  and  in  another,  MS.  Harl.  1309,  midde  prime  time.  Our 
author  uses  .prime  large,  ver.  10074,  to  signify  that  prime  was  consider- 
ably past." 

3909. — sette  his  howve.     The  same  as  set  his  cap.     See  1.  588. 


156  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

This  dronken  Myllere  hath  i-tolde  us  heer, 

How  that  bygiled  was  a  carpenter, 

Peraventure  in  scorn,  for  I  am  oon : 

And  by  your  leve,  I  schal  him  quyte  anoon. 

Right  in  his  cherles  termes  wol  I  speke  ; 

I  pray  to  God  his  nekke  mot  to-breke  ! 

He  can  wel  in  myn  eye  see  a  stalke. 

But  in  his  owne  he  can  nought  seen  a  balke." 

THE     REEVES    TALE. 

At  Trompyngtoun,  nat  fer  fro  Cantebrigge, 
Ther  goth  a  brook,  and  over  that  a  brigge,  3920 

Upon  the  whiche  brook  ther  stant  a  melle : 
And  this  is  verray  sothe  that  I  you  telle. 
A  meller  was  ther  dwellyng  many  a  day, 
As  eny  pecok  he  was  prowd  and  gay ; 
Pipen  he  coude,  and  fisshe,  and  nettys  beete, 
And  turne  cuppes,  wrastle  wel,  and  scheete. 
Ay  by  his  belt  he  bar  a  long  panade, 
And  of  a  swerd  ful  trenchaunt  was  the  blade. 
A  joly  popper  bar  he  in  his  pouche  ; 
Ther  was  no  man  for  perel  durst  him  touche.       3930 
A  Scheffeld  thwitel  bar  he  in  his  hose. 


The  Eeei'es  Tale. —  This  was  a  very  popular  story  in  the  middle  ages . 
and  is  found  under  several  different  forms  It  occurs  frequently  in  the 
jest  and  story  books  of  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries.  Boccacio 
has  given  it  in  the  Decameron,  evidently  from  a  fabliau,  which  has  been 
printed  in  Barbazan  under  the  title  of  De  Gombert  ct  des  deux  clers. 
Chaucer  took  the  story  from  another  fabliau,  which  I  have  printed  and 
first  pointed   out  to  notice,  in   my  Anecdota   Lileraria,  p.  15. 


THE    REEVES    TALK.  157 

Round  was  his  face,  and  camois  was  his  nose. 

As  pyled  as  an  ape  was  his  skulle. 

He  was  a  market-heter  at  the  fulle, 

Ther  durste  no  wight  hand  upon  him  legge, 

That  he  ne  swor  anon  he  schuld  ahegge. 

A  theef  he  was  for  soth  of  corn  and  mele, 
And  that  a  sleigh,  and  usyng  for  to  stele. 
His  name  was  hoote  deynous  Symekyn. 
A  wyf  he  hadde,  come  of  noble  kyn  :  3940 

The  persoun  of  the  toun  hir  fader  was. 
With  hire  he  gaf  ful  many  a  panne  of  bras, 
For  that  Symkyn  schuld  in  his  blood  alive 
Sche  was  i-fostryd  in  a  nonnerye : 
For  Symkyn  wolde  no  wyf,  as  he  sayde, 
But  sche  were  wel  i-norissched  and  a  mayde, 
To  saven  his  estaat  and  yornanrye : 
And  sche  was  proud  and  pert  as  is  a  pye. 
A  ful  fair  sighte  was  ther  on  hem  two  : 
On  haly  dayes  bifore  hir  wolde  he  go  3950 

With  his  typet  y-bounde  aboute  his  heed; 
And  sche  cam  aftir  in  a  gyte  of  reed, 
And  Symkyn  hadde  hosen  of  the  same. 
Ther  durste  no  wight  clepe  hir  but  madame: 
Was  noon  so  hardy  walkyng  by  the  weye, 
That  with  hir  dorste  rage,  or  elles  pleye, 


3954. — madame.      In   the  description  of  the  nun  (1.   378),  who    also 
prided  herself  upon  her  gentility,  Chaucer  says, — 

It  is  right  lair  for  to  be  clept  madame, 
And  for  to  go  to  vigilies  al  byfore, 


158  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

But  if  he  wold  be  slayn  of  Symekyn 
With  panade,  or  with  knyf,  or  boydekyn ; 
For  gelous  folk  ben  perilous  everemo, 
Algate  they  wolde  here  wyves  wende  so.  3960 

And  eek  for  sche  was  somdel  smoterlich, 
Sche  was  as  deyne  as  water  in  a  dich, 
As  ful  of  hokir,  and  of  bissernare. 
Hir  thoughte  ladyes  oughten  hir  to  spare, 
What  for  hir  kynreed,  and  hir  nortelrye, 
That  sche  had  lerned  in  the  nonnerye. 
.  O  doughter  hadden  they  betwix  hern  two, 
Of  twenti  yeer,  withouten  eny  mo, 
Savyng  a  child  that  was  of  half  yer  age, 
In  cradil  lay,  and  was  a  proper  page.  3970 

This  wenche  thikke  and  wel  i-growen  was, 
With  camoys  nose,  and  eyghen  gray  as  glas ; 
And  buttokkes  brode,  and  brestes  round  and  bye ; 
But  right  fair  was  hir  heer,  I  wol  nat  lye. 
The  persoun  of  the  toun,  for  sche  was  feir, 
In  purpos  was  to  maken  hir  his  heir, 
Bothe  of  his  catel  and  his  mesuage. 
And  straunge  made  it  of  hir  mariage. 
His  purpos  was  to  bystow  hir  hye 
Into  som  worthy  blood  of  ancetrye ;  3980 

For  holy  chirche  good  moot  be  despendid 
On  holy  chirche  blood  that  is  descendid. 
Therfore  he  wolde  his  joly  blood  honoure, 
Though  that  he  schulde  holy  chirche  devoure. 
Gret  soken  hath  tliis  meller,  mit  of  doute, 


THE    REEVES    TALE.  159 

With  whete  and  malt,  of  al  the  lond  ahoute  ; 

And  namely  ther  was  a  gret  collegge, 

Men  clepe  it  the  Soler-halle  of  Cantebregge, 

Ther  was  here  whete  and  eek  here  malt  i-grounde. 

And  on  a  day  it  happed  in  a  stounde,  3990 

Syk  lay  the  mauncyple  on  a  maledye, 

Men  wenden  wisly  that  he  schulde  dye  ; 

For  which  this  meller  stal  bothe  mele  and  corn 

A  thousend  part  more  than  byforn. 

For  ther  biforn  he  stal  but  curteysly  ; 

But  now  he  is  a  theef  outrageously. 

For  which  the  wardeyn  chidde  and  made  fare, 

But  therof  sette  the  meller  not  a  tare ; 

He  crakked  boost,  and  swor  it  was  nat  so. 

Thanne  weren  there  poore  scoleres  tuo,  4000 

That  dwelten  in  the  halle  of  which  I  seye ; 

Testyf  they  were,  and  lusty  for  to  pleye ; 

And,  oonly  for  here  mirthe  and  revelrye 

Uppon  the  wardeyn  bysily  they  crye, 

To  geve  hem  leve  but  a  litel  stound 

To  go  to  melle  and  see  here  corn  i-grounde ; 

Ami  hardily  they  dursten  ley  here  nekke, 

The  meller  schuld  nat  stel  hem  half  a  pekke 


3988. — the  Soler-halle.  There  was  a  tradition  in  the  university  of 
Cambridge,  at  least  as  early  as  the  time  of  Caius,  and  it  may  perhaps  be 
correct,  that  the  college  alluded  to  by  Chaucer,  was  Clare  Hall.  See 
Caius,  Hist.  Acad.  p.  57,  and  Fuller's  Hist,  of  the  Univ.  of  Camb.  p.  86, 
(ed.  IS  10).  The  name  Soler-halle,  of  course  means  the  hall  with  the 
soler  or  upper  story,  which,  as  Warton  observes,  would  be  n  sufficient 
mark  of  distinction  in  early  limes. 


L60  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Of  corn  by  sleighte,  ne  by  force  bom  reve. 

And  atte  last  the  wardeyn  gaf  hem  leve.  4010 

Johan  bight  that  oon,  and  Alayn  hight  that  other  ; 

Of  o  toun  were  they  born  that  highte  Strothir, 

Fer  in  the  North,  I  can  nat  telle  where. 

This  Aleyn  maketh  redy  al  his  gere, 

And  on  an  hors  the  sak  he  cast  anoon : 

Forth  goth  Aleyn  the  clerk,  and  also  Jon, 

With  good  swerd  and  with  bocler  by  her  side. 

Johan  knew  the  way,  that  hem  needith  no  gyde; 

And  at  the  mylle  the  sak  adoun  he  layth. 

Alayn  spak  first:   "  Al  heil!   Symond,  in  faith      4020 

How  fares  thy  faire  doughter,  and  thy  wyf?" 
"  Alayn,  welcome,"  quod  S}Tmond  "  by  my  lyf !  " 

And  Johan  also  ;  how  now !   what  do  ye  here  ?  " 
"  By  God!  "  quod  Johan,  "  Symond,  neede  has  na  peere. 

Him  falles  serve  himself  that  has  na  swayn, 

Or  elles  he  is  a  fon,  as  clerkes  sayn. 

Oure  mancyple,  as  I  hope,  wil  be  deed, 

Swa  werkes  ay  the  wanges  in  his  heed : 

And  therfore  I  is  come,  and  eek  Alayn, 


4011. — Johan.  This  is  the  correct  form  of  the  name,  the  a  being 
generally  indicated  by  a  dash  on  the  upper  limb  of  the  h.  In  the 
manuscript  from  which  our  text  is  taken,  the  contraction  is  sometimes 
written  Joh*n.  John,  as  Tyrwhitt  prints  it,  is  a  much  more  modern 
orthography.  Where  the  name  is  required  to  be  a  monosyllable,  it  is 
here  spelt  Jon,  probably  an  abbreviation  of  familiarity,  as  Tom,  and  the 
like. 

4012. — Strothir.  This  was  the  valley  of  Laogstroth,  or  Langstroth- 
dale,  in  the  West  Riding  of  Yorkshire,  as  pointed  out  by  Dr.  Whitaker. 
Hist,  of  Craven,  p.  493.  I  am  informed  that  the  dialect  of  this  district  may 
be  recognized  in  the  phraseology  of  Chaucer's  "  scoleres  tun." 


THE    REEVES    TALE.  161 

To  grynde  oure  com,  and  carie  it  ham  ageyn.      4030 

I  prey  you  speed  us  in  al  that  ye  may." 
"  It  schal  he  doon,"  quod  Symkyn,  "  by  my  fay  ! 

What  wol  ye  do  whil  that  it  is  in  hande  ?" 
"  By  God  !  right  by  the  hoper  wol  I  stande," 

Quod  Johan,  "  and  se  how  that  the  corn  gas  nine. 

Yet  sawh  I  never,  by  my  fader  kynne  ! 

How  that  the  hoper  waggis  to  and  fra." 

Aleyn  answerde,  "  Johan,  and  wiltow  swa? 

Than  wol  I  be  bynethe,  by  my  croun  ! 

And  se  how  that  the  mele  fallys  doun  4040 

Into  the  trough,  that  schal  be  my  desport ; 

For,  Jon,  in  faith,  I  may  be  of  your  sort, 

I  is  as  ille  a  meller  as  ere  ye." 

This  mellere  smyleth  for  here  nyeete, 

And  thought,  "Al  this  is  doon  but  for  a  wyle  ; 

They  wenen  that  no  man  may  hem  bigile. 

But,  by  my  thrift,  yet  schal  I  blere  here  ye, 

For  al  here  sleight  and  al  here  philosophic  ; 

The  more  queynte  knakkes  that  they  make, 

The  more  wol  I  stele  whan  I  take.  4050 

In  stede  of  mele  yet  wol  I  geve  hem  bren. 

The  grettest  clerks  beth  not  the  wisest  men, 

As  whilom  to  the  wolf  thus  spak  the  mare  : 


4053. — the  wolf.     The  fable  of  the  Wolf  and  the  Mare  is  found  in  the 
Latin  Esopean  collections,  and  in  the  early  Frencli   poem  "I'  Renard  le 

Contrefait,  from  whence  it  appears  to  have  1 n  taken  into  the  English 

Reynard  the  Fox.      In  Renard  le  Contrefait,  the  wolf  ntters  a  similar 
sentiment  (though  differently  expressed),  to  that  in  Chaucer, — 
Or  voi-ge  bien  tout  en  apert 


162  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Of  al  her  art  ne  counte  I  nat  a  tare." 
Out  at  the  clore  he  goth  ful  pryvyly, 
Whan  that  he  saugh  his  tyme  sotyly ; 
He  loketh  up  and  doun,  til  he  hath  founde 
The  clerkes  hors,  ther  as  it  stood  i-bounde 
Behynde  the  mylle,  under  a  levesel : 
And  to  the  hors  he  goth  him  faire  and  wel.  4060 

He  strepeth  of  the  bridel  right  anoon. 
And  whan  the  hors  was  loos,  he  gan  to  goon 
Toward  the  fen  there  wilde  mares  renne, 
Forth  with  "wi-he!"  thurgh  thikke  and  eek  thurgh 
This  meller  goth  agayn,  and  no  word  seyde,  [thenne. 
But  doth  his  note,  and  with  the  clerkes  pleyde, 
Til  that  her  corn  was  fair  and  wel  i-grounde. 
And  whan  the  mele  was  sakked  and  i-bounde, 
This  Johan  goth  out,  and  fynt  his  hors  away, 
And  gan  to  crye,  "  harrow  and  weylaway  !  4070 

Oure  hors  is  lost !  Aleyn,  for  Goddes  banes, 
Step  on  thy  feet,  cum  on,  man,  al  at  anes. 
Alias  !  our  wardeyn  hath  his  palfray  lorn  !" 
This  Aleyn  al  forgeteth  mele  and  corn, 
Al  was  out  of  his  nrynd  his  housbondrye ; 
"  What  wikked  way  is  he  gan  ?"  gan  he  crye. 
The  wyf  cam  lepyng  in- ward  with  a  ren, 


Que  clei-j/ie  bien  sa  saison  pert ; 
Aucunes  foiz  vilaiu  queaignent 
Et  lens  oil  le  clerc  se  mehaignent. 

Ge  ne  fis  mie  grant  savoir, 
Quant  ge  vouloie  clers  devenir. 


THE    REEVES    TALE.  163 

Sclie  seyde,  "Alias  !  your  hors  goth  to  the  fen 
With  wylde  mares,  as  fast  as  he  may  go : 
Unthank  come  on  his  heed  that  hand  him  so,        4080 
And  he  that  hettir  schuld  han  knyt  the  reyne  !" 
"  Alias  !"  quod  Johan,  "  Aleyn,  for  Cristes  peyne  ! 
Leg  doun  thi  swerd,  and  I  sal  myn  alswa  ; 

I  is  ful  wight,  God  wat,  as  is  a  ra ; 

By  Goddes  hart !  he  sal  nat  scape  us  bathe. 
Why  uad  thou  put  the  capil  in  the  lathe  ? 

II  hail,  Aleyn,  by  God  !  thou  is  a  fon !" 
This  sely  clerkes  speeden  hem  anoon 
Toward  the  fen,  bothe  Aleyn  and  eek  Jon. 

And  whan  the  myller  sawh  that  they  were  gon,    4090 

He  half  a  busshel  of  the  flour  hath  take, 

And  bad  his  wyf  go  knede  it  in  a  cake. 

He  seyde,  "  I  trowe  the  clerkes  ben  aferd ! 

Yet  can  a  miller  make  a  clerkes  herd, 

For  al  his  art ;  ye,  lat  hem  go  here  way ! 

Lo  wher  they  goon  !  ye,  lat  the  children  play ; 

They  get  hym  nat  so  lightly,  by  my  croun !" 

This  seely  clerkes  ronnen  up  and  doun, 

With  "Keep!  keep!  stand!  stand!  jossa,  warederere  ! 

Ga  wightly  thou,  and  I  sal  keep  him  heere.''        4100 

But  schortly,  til  that  it  was  verray  night, 

They  cowde  nat,  though  they  did  al  here  might, 

Here  capil  cacche,  it  ran  away  so  fast, 

Til  in  a  diche  they  caught  him  atte  last. 

■1001. — make  a  clerkes  herd.      A   proverbial    phrase  taken   from   tin; 
French,  faire  /«  barbe  <i  qucliju'ini        It  occurs  again  lurtlior  on,  1.  504IV 


164  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Wery  and  wete  as  bestys  in  the  reyn, 

Comth  sely  Johan,  and  with  him  comth  Aleyn. 

"  Alias  !"  quod  Johan,  "that  day  that  I  was  born  ! 
Now  are  we  dryve  til  hethyng  and  to  scorn. 
Oure  com  is  stole,  men  woln  us  foles  calle, 
Bathe  the  wardeyu,  and  eek  our  felaws  alle,  4110 

And  namely  the  myller,  weyloway!" 
Thus  pleyneth  Johan,  as  he  goth  by  the  way 
Toward  the  mylle,  and  Bayard  in  his  hand. 
The  myller  sittyng  by  the  fyr  he  fand, 
For  it  was  night,  and  forther  might  they  nought, 
But  for  the  love  of  God  they  him  bisought 
Of  herberwh  and  of  ese,  as  for  her  peny. 
The  myller  sayd  agayn,  "  If  ther  be  eny, 
Swich  as  it  is,  yit  schul  ye  have  your  part. 
Myn  hous  is  streyt,  but  ye  han  lerned  art ;  4120 

Ye  conne  by  argumentes  make  a  place 
A  myl  brood,  of  twenty  foote  of  space  : 
Let  se  now  if  this  place  may  suffyse, 
Or  make  it  rom  with  speche,  as  is  your  gyse." 

"  Now,  Symond,"seyde  this  Johan,  "by  seynt  Cuthberd  ! 
Ay  is  thou  mery,  and  that  is  fair  answerd. 
I  have  herd  say,  men  suld  take  of  twa  thinges, 
Slik  as  he  fynt,  or  tak  slik  as  he  bringes. 
But  specially  I  pray  the,  host  ful  deere, 
Get  us  som  mete  and  drynk,  and  mak  us  cheere,  4130 
And  we  wol  paye  trewly  at  the  fulle  : 
With  empty  baud  men  may  na  hawkes  tulle. 

4132. — with  empty  hand.       Conf.  1.  5907,  where  tho  proverb  is  given 
somewhat  differently. 


THE    REEVES    TALE.  165 

Lo  heer  our  silver  redy  for  to  spende." 

This  rneller  into  toun  his  doughter  sonde 

For  ale  and  breed,  and  rosted  hern  a  goos, 

And  band  her  hors,  he  schold  no  more  go  loos  : 

And  in  his  owne  chambir  hern  made  a  bed, 

With  schetys  and  with  chaloims  fair  i-spred, 

Nat  from  his  owen  bed  ten  foot  or  twelve ; 

His  doughter  had  a  bed  al  by  hirselve,  4140 

Plight  in  the  same  chambre  by  and  by  : 

It  mighte  be  no  bet,  and  cause  why, 

Ther  was  no  rommer  herberw  in  the  place. 

They  sowpen,  and  they  speken  of  solace, 

And  dronken  ever  strong  ale  atte  beste. 

Aboute  mydnyght  wente  they  to  reste. 

Wei  hath  the  myller  vemysshed  his  heed, 

Ful  pale  he  was,  for-dronken,  and  nat  reed ; 

He  yoxeth,  and  he  speketh  thurgh  the  nose, 

As  he  were  on  the  quakke,  or  on  the  pose.  4150 

To  bed  he  goth,  and  with  him  goth  Iris  wyf, 

As  eny  jay  sche  light  was  and  jolyf, 

So  was  hir  joly  whistel  wel  y-wet ; 

The  cradil  at  hire  beddes  feet  is  set, 

To  rokken,  and  to  give  the  child  to  souke. 

And  whan  that  dronken  was  al  in  the  crouke, 

To  bedde  went  the  doughter  right  anon  ; 

To  bedde  goth  Aleyn,  and  also  Jon, 

Ther  nas  no  more,  him  needeth  no  dwale. 

This  meller  hath  so  wysly  bibbed  ale,  4160 

That  as  an  hors  he  snortith  in  his  sleep, 


166  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Ne  of  his  tayl  bihynd  took  he  no  keep. 

His  wyf  bar  him  a  burdoun,  a  ful  strong, 

Men  might  her  rowtyng  heeren  a  forlong. 

The  wenche  routeth  eek  par  company*'. 

Aleyn  the  clerk,  that  herd  this  melodye, 

He  pokyd  Johan,  and  seyde,  "  Slepistow  ? 

Herdistow  ever  slik  a  sang  er  now '? 

Lo,  slik  a  conplyng  is  betwix  hem  alle, 

A  wilde  fyr  upon  thair  bodyes  falle!  4170 

Wha  herkned  ever  swilk  a  ferly  thing  ? 

Ye,  thei  sul  have  the  flour  of  ille  endyng ! 

This  lange  night  ther  tydes  me  na  rest. 

But  yet  na  fors,  al  sal  be  for  the  best. 

For,  Johan,"  sayd  he,  "  as  ever  mot  I  thryve, 

If  that  I  may,  yone  wenche  sal  I  swyve. 

Som  esement  hath  lawe  schapen  us  ; 

For  Johan,  ther  is  a  lawe  that  says  thus, 

That  if  a  man  in  a  point  be  agreved, 

That  in  another  he  sal  be  releeved.  4180 

Oure  corn  is  stoln,  sothly,  it  is  na  nay, 

And  we  have  had  an  ylle  fitt  to  day  ; 

And  syn  I  sal  have  nan  amendement 

Agayn  my  los,  I  wol  have  esement. 

By  Goddes  sale  !  it  sal  nan  other  be." 

This  Johan  answerd,  "  Aleyn,  avyse  the  : 

The  miller  is  a  perlous  man,"  he  sayde, 


117!».     A  marginal  note  in  the  MS.  says, — Qui  in  uno  gravatur,  in  alio 
debet  relevari. 


THE    REEVES   TALE.  167 

'  And  if  that  he  out  of  his  sleep  abrayde, 

He  mighte  do  us  bothe  a  vilonye  !" 

Aleyn  answerd,  "  I  count  it  nat  a  flye  !"  4190 

And  up  he  roos,  and  by  the  wenche  he  crepte. 

This  wenche  lay  upright,  and  faste  slepte, 

Til  he  so  neih  was  or  sche  might  aspye, 

That  it  had  ben  to  late  for  to  crye. 

And  schortly  for  to  seye,  they  weren  at  oon  : 

Now  pley,  Alein,  for  I  wol  speke  of  Jon. 

This  Johan  lith  stille  a  forlong  whyle  or  two, 

And  to  himself  compleyned  of  his  woo. 
'  Alias  !"  quod  he,  "  this  is  a  wikked  jape  : 

Now  may  I  say  that  I  am  but  an  ape.  4200 

Yet  hath  my  felaw  somwhat  for  his  harm  ; 

He  hath  the  myllers  doughter  in  his  arm  : 

He  auntred  him,  and  has  his  needes  sped, 

And  I  lye  as  a  draf-sak  in  my  bed ; 

And  when  this  jape  is  tald  another  day, 

I  sal  be  bald  a  daf,  a  cokenay. 

Unhardy  is  unsely,  as  men  saith. 

I  wol  arise,  and  auntre  it,  in  good  faith." 

And  up  he  ros,  and  softely  he  wente 

Unto  the  cradil,  and  in  his  hand  it  hente,  4210 

And  bar  it  softe  unto  his  beddis  feet. 

Soone  after  this  the  wyf  liir  routyng  leet, 

And  gan  awake,  and  went  hir  forth  to  pisse, 

And  cam  agayn,  and  gan  hir  cradel  mysse, 

And  groped  heer  and  ther,  but  sche  fond  noon. 
"  Alias  !"  quod  sche,  "  1  had  almost  mysgoon  ; 


L68  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

I  had  almost  goon  to  the  clevkes  bed, 
Ey,  benedicite !  than  had  I  foule  i-sped!" 
And  forth  sche  goth,  til  sche  the  cradil  fand. 
Sche  gropith  alway  forther  with  hir  hand,  4220 

And  fand  the  bed,  and  thoughte  nat  but  good, 
Bycause  that  the  cradil  by  it  stood, 
Nat  knowyng  wher  sche  was,  for  it  was  derk  ; 
But  faire  and  wel  sche  creep  in  to  the  clerk, 
And  lith  ful  stille,  and  wolde  ban  caught  a  sleep. 
Withinne  a  while  Johan  the  clerk  up  leep, 
And  on  this  goode  wyf  leyth  on  ful  sore  ; 
So  mery  a  fytt  ne  hadd  sche  nat  ful  yore. 
He  priketh  harde  and  deepe,  as  he  were  mad. 
This  joly  lyf  ban  this  twey  clerkes  had,  4230 

Til  that  the  thridde  cok  bygan  to  synge, 
Aleyn  wax  wery  in  the  dawenynge, 
For  he  had  swonken  al  the  longe  night, 
And  seyd,  "  Farwel,  Malyn,  my  sweete  wight  ! 
The  day  is  come,  I  may  no  lenger  byde, 
But  evermo,  wher  so  I  go  or  ryde, 
I  am  thin  owen  clerk,  so  have  I  seel !" 
"  Now,  deere  lemman,"  quod  sche,  "  go,  farwel ! 
But  or  thou  go,  o  thing  I  wol  the  telle : 
Whan  that  thou  wendist  bom- ward  by  the  melle, 
Kight  at  the  entre  of  the  dore  byhynde 
Thou  schalt  a  cake  of  half  a  busshel  fynde, 
That  was  i-maked  of  thyn  owen  mele, 
Which  that  I  hilp  myn  owen  self  to  stele. 
And,  goode  lemman,  God  the  save  and  kepe!" 


THE    KEEVES    TALE.  I  09 

And  with  that  word  almost  sche  gan  to  weepe. 
Aleyn  uprist,  and  thought,  "  Er  that  it  dawe 
I  wol  go  crepen  in  by  my  felawe  ;" 
And  fand  the  cradil  with  his  hand  anon. 

"  By  God!"  thought  he,  "  al  wrong  I  have i-goon  ;  4250 
My  heed  is  toty  of  my  swynk  to  nyght, 
That  makes  me  that  I  ga  nought  aright. 
I  wot  wel  by  the  cradel  I  have  mysgo  ; 
Heer  lith  the  myller  and  his  wyf  also." 
Forth  he  goth  in  twenty  devel  way 
Unto  the  bed,  ther  as  the  miller  lay. 
He  wende  have  crope  by  his  felaw  Jon, 
And  by  the  myller  in  he  creep  anon, 
And  caught  him  by  the  nekke,  and  soft  he  spak, 
And  seyde,  "  Jon,  thou  swyneshecl,  awak,  4260 

For  Cristes  sowle  !  and  here  a  noble  game ; 
For,  by  that  lord  that  cleped  is  seynt  Jame, 
As  I  have  thries  in  this  schorte  night 
Swvved  the  myllers  doughter  bolt  upright, 
Whiles  thou  hast  as  a  coward  ben  agast." 

"  Ye,  false  harlot,"  quod  this  mellere,  "hast? 
A!  false  traitour,  false  clerk!"  quod  he, 

"Thou  schaltbe  deed,  by  Goddes  dignite! 
Who  durste  be  so  bold  to  disparage 
My  doughter,  that  is  come  of  hih  lynage?"  4270 

And  by  the  throte-bolle  he  caught  Aleyn,  • 
And  he  hent  him  clispitously  agovn, 
And  on  the  nose  he  smot  him  with  his  fest. 
Doun  ran  the  blody  streem  upon  his  brest; 


170  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

And  in  the  floor  with  nose  and  mouth  to-broke 

They  walweden  as  pigges  in  a  poke ; 

And  up  they  goon,  and  doun  they  goon  anon, 

Til  that  the  millner  stumbled  at  a  ston, 

And  doun  he  felle  bakward  on  his  wyf, 

That  wyste  nothing  of  this  nyce  stryf ;  4280 

For  sche  was  falle  asleepe  a  litel  wight 

With  Jon  the  clerk,  that  waked  al  the  night, 

And  with  the  falle  right  out  of  slepe  sche  brayde. 
"  Help,  holy  croys  of  Bromholme!  "  sche  sayde, 
"In  manus  txias,  Lord,  to  the  I  calle! 

Awake,  Symond,  the  feend  is  in  thin  halle  ! 

My  hert  is  broken !  help  !  I  am  but  deed  ! 

Ther  lythe  upon  my  wombe  and  on  myn  heed. 

Help,  Symkyn  !  for  this  false  clerkes  fight." 

This  Johan  stert  up  as  fast  as  ever  he  might,       4290 

And  grasped  by  the  walles  to  and  fro, 

To  fynde  a  staf ;  and  sche  sturt  up  also, 

And  knewe  the  estres  bet  than  dede  Jon, 

And  by  the  wal  sche  took  a  staf  anon, 

And  sawh  a  litel  glymeryng  of  a  light ; 

For  at  an  hool  in  schon  the  moone  bright, 

And  by  that  light  sche  saugh  hem  bothe  two ; 

But  sikirly  sche  wiste  nat  who  was  who, 


4284. — holy  croys  of  Bromholme.  Portions  of  the  real  cross  were  said 
to  compose  the  cross  of  the  priory  of  Bromhohn,  in  Norfolk,  brought  into 
England  with  great  ceremony  in  1223,  and  thenceforth  an  extraordinarily 
popular  object  of  pilgrimage.  By  the  cross  (or  rood)  of  Bromholm!  seems 
to  have  been  a  very  common  formula  of  swearing,  and  is  found  in  Piers 
Ploughman,  and  elsewhere. 


THE    COKES    PKOLOGE.  171 

But  as  sche  saugh  a  whit  thing  in  hir  ye.  4300 

And  whan  sche  gan  this  white  thing  aspye, 

Sche  wend  the  clerk  had  wered  a  volupeer ; 

And  with  a  staf  sche  drough  hir  neer  and  neer, 

And  wend  have  hit  this  Aleyn  atte  fulle, 

And  smot  this  meller  on  the  piled  sculle, 

That  doun  he  goth,  and  cryeth,  "  Harrow!  I  dye  !  " 

This  clerkes  beeten  him  wel,  and  leet  hym  lye, 

And  greyth  hem  wel,  and  take  her  hors  anon, 

And  eek  here  mele,  and  hoom  anon  they  goon  : 

And  at  the  millen  dore  they  tok  here  cake, 

Of  half  a  buisshel  flour  ful  wel  i-bake.  4310 

Thus  is  the  prowde  miller  wel  i-bete, 
And  hath  i-lost  the  gryndyng  of  the  whete, 
And  payed  for  the  soper  every  del 
Of  Aleyn  and  of  Johan,  that  beten  him  wel ; 
His  wyf  is  swyved,  and  his  doughter  als. 
Lo !  such  it  is  a  miller  to  be  fals. 
And  therto  this  proverbe  is  seyd  ful  soth. 
He  thav  nat  weene  wel  that  evyl  doth. 
A  gylour  schal  himself  bygiled  be. 
And  God,  that  sitest  in  thy  mageste,  4320 

Save  al  this  compaignie,  gret  and  smale. 
Thus  have  I  quyt  the  miller  in  his  tale. 

THE     COKES    PROLOGE. 

The  Cook  of  Londone,  whil  the  Reeve  spak, 


4318. — lir  thai-  nat.     The  literal  meaning  of  this  proverb  .seems  to  he. 
He  need  not  imagine,  or  suppose,  well,  who  does  evil." 


172  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

For  joye  he  thought  he  clawed  him  on  the  bak : 
"  Ha,  ha !  "  quod  he,  "  for  Cristes  passioun, 
This  meller  hath  a  scharp  conclusioun 
Upon  his  argument  of  herburgage. 
Wei  seyde  Salomon  in  his  langage, 
Ne  bryng  nat  every  man  into  thyn  hous, 
For  herburgage  by  night  is  perilous.  4330 

Wei  aught  a  man  avised  for  to  be 
Whom  that  he  brought  into  his  pryvyte. 
I  pray  to  God  so  gyf  my  body  care, 
Gif  ever,  siththen  I  highte  Hogge  of  Ware, 
Herd  I  a  better  miller  set  a-werke  ; 
He  hadde  a  jape  of  malice  in  the  derke. 
But  God  forbede  that  we  stynten  heere, 
And  therfore  if  ye  vouchesauf  to  heere 
A  tale  of  me  that  am  a  pover  man, 
I  wol  yow  telle  as  wel  as  I  kan  4340 

A  litel  jape  that  fel  in  oure  cite." 

Oure  Host  answerde  and  seyde,  "  I  graunt  it  the  : 
Now  telle  on,  Roger,  and  loke  it  be  good. 
For  many  a  pastey  hastow  lete  blood, 
And  many  a  Jakk  of  Dover  hastow  sold, 
That  hath  be  twyes  hoot  and  twyes  cold. 
Of  many  a  pylgrym  hastow  Cristes  curs; 
For  thy  persly  they  faren  yet  the  wors, 
That  they  have  eten  with  the  stubbil  goos : 


1345. — Jakk  of  Dover.  Some  article  of  cookery  which  I  Lave  not 
found  mentioned  or  alluded  to  elsewhere,  and  which  it  would  therefore  be 
in  vain  to  attempt  to  explain. 


THE    COKES    TALE.  173 

For  in  thy  schoppe  is  many  a  flye  loos.  4350 

Now  tell  on,  gentil  Roger  by  thy  name, 

But  yit  I  pray  the  be  nought  wroth  for  game ; 

A  man  may  seye  ful  sothe  in  game  and  pley." 

"  Thow  saist  ful  soth,"  quod  Roger,  "by  my  fey ! 
But  soth  play  quad  play,  as  the  Flemyng  saith : 
And  therfore,  Herry  Baillif,  by  thy  faith, 
Be  thou  nat  wroth,  or  we  cleparte  her, 
Though  that  my  tale  be  of  an  hostyler. 
But  natheles,  I  wol  not  telle  it  yit, 
But  or  we  departe,  it  schal  be  quyt."  4360 

And  therwithal  he  lowh  and  made  chcre, 
And  seyde  his  tale,  as  ye  schal  after  heere. 

THE     COKES    TALE. 

A  prentys  dwelled  whilom  in  oure  citee, 
And  of  a  craft  of  vitaillers  was  he  : 
Gaylard  he  was,  as  goldfynch  in  the  schawe, 
Broun  as  a  bery,  and  a  propre  felawe, 
With  lokkes  blak,  and  kempt  ful  fetousl  v. 
Dauncen  he  cowde  wel  and  prately. 
That  he  was  cleped  Perkyn  Revellour. 
lie  was  as  ful  of  love  and  paramour,  4370 

As  is  the  honycombe  of  hony  swete  ; 


4353.— This  line,  as  well  as  1.  1350,  is  omitted  in  MS.  Hart,  which 
reads  hy  my  faith  in  1.  1351,  to  malic  it  rhyme  with  1355. 

4355. — soth  play,  Tyrwhitt,  to  make  Fit  mishof  the  phrase,  reads  sofft 
play  quadespel,  which  after  all  is  l>nt  half  Flemish, and  is  contrary  to  tlio 
general  authority  of  the  MSS.  He  quotes  from  Sir  John  Harrington's 
Apologie  for  Poelrie,a  similar  English  proverb,  toth  bourde  is  m*  bourde. 


]74  THE    CANTERBURY    TAI,1>. 

Wei  were  the  wenche  that  mighte  him  meete. 
[At  every  bridale  wold  he  synge  aud  hoppe : 
He  loved  bet  the  taverne  than  the  schoppe.] 
For  whan  ther  eny  rydyng  was  in  Cheepe, 
Out  of  the  schoppe  thider  wolde  he  lepe, 
And  tyl  he  hadde  al  that  sight  i-seyn, 
And  daunced  wel,  he  nold  nat  come  ageyn ; 
And  gadred  him  a  meyne  of  his  sort, 
To  hoppe  and  synge,  and  make  such  disport  :       4380 
And  ther  they  setten  stevene  for  to  meete, 
To  pleyen  atte  dys  in  such  a  strete. 
For  in  the  toun  ne  was  ther  no  prentys, 
That  fairer  cowde  caste  a  peyre  dys 
Than  Perkyn  couthe,  and  therto  he  was  free 
Of  his  dispence,  in  place  of  pryvyte. 
That  fand  his  mayster  wel  in  lhs  chaffare, 
For  often  tyme  he  fond  his  box  ful  bare. 
For  such  a  joly  prentys  revelour, 
That  haunteth  dys,  revel,  or  paramour,  4390 

His  maister  schal  it  in  his  schoppe  abye, 
Al  have  he  no  part  of  the  mynstralcye. 
For  thefte  and  ryot  be  convertyble, 
Al  can  they  pley  on  giterne  or  rubible. 
Revel  and  trouthe,  as  in  a  lowe  degre, 
They  ben  ful  wroth  al  day,  as  ye  may  sec 
This  joly  prentys  with  his  mayster  bood, 
Til  he  was  oute  neygh  of  his  prentyshood, 


4373.     This  anil  the  following  line  are  omitted  in  MS.  Harl. 
■1375. — in  Cheepe.     Cheapsido  was  the  grand   scene  of  city    festivals 
and  processions. 


THE    COKES    TALE.  175 

Al  were  he  snybbyd  bothe  erly  and  late, 

And  som  tyme  lad  with  revel  into  Newgate.  4400 

But  atte  laste  his  mayster  him  bythought 

Upon  a  day,  whan  he  his  papyr  sought, 

Of  a  proverbe,  that  saith  this  same  word  ; 

Wei  bette  is  roten  appul  out  of  hord, 

Than  that  it  rote  al  the  remenaunt : 

So  fareth  it  by  a  ryotous  servaunt ; 

It  is  ful  lasse  harm  to  late  him  pace, 

Than  he  schend  al  the  servauntes  in  the  place. 

Therfore  his  mayster  gaf  him  acquitaunce, 

And  bad  him  go,  with  sorwe  and  with  meschaunce:  441° 

And  thus  the  joly  prentys  had  his  leve. 

Now  let  hym  ryot  al  the  night  or  leve. 

And  for  ther  is  no  thef  withowten  a  lowke, 

That  helpeth  him  to  wasten  and  to  sowke 

Of  that  he  bribe  can,  or  borwe  may, 

Anon  he  sent  his  bedde  and  his  aray 

Unto  a  compere  of  his  owen  sort, 

That  loved  dis,  and  revel,  and  disport ; 

And  had  a  wyf,  that  held  for  contenaunce 

A  schoppe,  and  swyved  for  hire  sustenaunce.        4420 


[Fye  thcron,  it  is  so  foule,  I  wil  nowe  telle  no  forther, 
For  schame  of  the  harlotrie  that  seweth  after  ; 
•    A  velany  it  were  thare  of  more  to  spelle, 

Bot  of  a  knyht  and  his  sonnes  my  tale  I  wil  forthe  telle.] 

4409. — acquitaunce.    The  MS.  Harl.  reads  acqueyntaunce. 
4413. — The  lines  from  4413  to  4430  are  omitted  in  MS.  Harl.,  but 
they  are  evidently  genuine, 


176  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

THE    COKES   TALE    OF    GAMELYN. 

Litheth,  and  lestneth,  and  herkncth  aright, 
And  ye  schul  hoerc  a  talkyng  of  a  doughty  knight ; 
Sire  Johan  of  Boundys  was  his  right  name, 
He  cowde  of  norture  ynough  and  mochil  of  game. 
Thre  sones  the  knight  had,  that  with  his  body  he  wan, 
The  eldest  was  a  moche  schrewe,  and  sone  he  bygan. 
His  bretheren  loved  wel  here  fader,  and  of  him  were  agast, 
The  eldest  deserved  his  fadres  curs,  and  had  it  at  the  last. 
The  goode  knight  his  fader  lyvede  so  yore, 
That  deth  was  comen  him  to,  and  handled  him  ful  sore.  10 
The  goode  knight  cared  sore,  sik  ther  he  lay, 
How  his  children  scholde  lyven  after  his  day. 
He  hadde  ben  wyde  wher,  but  non  housbond  he  was, 
Al  the  lond  that  he  had,  it  was  verrey  purchas. 
Fayn  he  wold  it  were  dressed  amonges  hem  alle, 
That  ech  of  hem  had  his  part,  as  it  mighte  falle. 
Tho  sent  he  into  cuntre  after  wise  knightes, 
To  helpe  delen  his  londes  and  dressen  hem  to  rightes. 
He  sent  hem  word  by  lettres  they  schuklen  hye  blyve, 
Yf  they  wolde  speke  with  him  whil  he  was  on  lyve.         20 
Tho  the  knyghtes  herden  sik  ther  he  lay, 
Hadde  they  no  reste  nother  night  ne  day, 


The  Cokes  Tale  of  Gamelyn.  Tyrwhitt  omits  this  tale  as  being  cer- 
tainly not  Chaucer's,  in  which  judgment  lie  is  perhaps  right.  It  is  how-- 
ever  found  in  the  MS.  Harl.  and  all  the  MSS.  I  have  collated.  Tyrwhitt 
ends  abruptly  with  1.  4120.  In  MS.  Hail,  the  tale  of  Gamelyn  begins 
without  any  introduction  ;  I  have  added  the  introductory  lines  from  the 
Lansdowne  MS.  Other  MSS.,  instead  of  them,  have  only  two, — 
But  herof  I  wille  passe  as  nowe, 
And  of  yonge  Gamelyn  I  wille  telle  yowe. 

The  tale  of  Gamelyn  belongs  to  the  Robin  Hood  cycle,  and  is  curious 
as  a  picture  of  the  times.  It  will  be  at  once  recognized  as  the  foundation 
of  Shakespeare's  As  you  like  it,  though  the  dramatist  appears  to  have 
taken  it  through  the  intermediaries  of  Lodge's  Euphues  Golden  Legacy, 
which  is  clearly  built  on  the  poem  of  Gamelyn,  even  the  name  of  Adam 
Spencer  being  retained.  In  some  MSS.  Gamelyn's  father  is  called  Johan 
of  Bur  deux,  an  additional  link  with  Lodge's  novel. 


THE  COKES  TALL  OF  GAMELYN.         177 

Til  they  comen  to  him  ther  he  lay  stille 
On  his  deth  heckle,  to  abyde  Goddes  wille. 
Than  seyde  the  goode  knight,  syk  ther  he  lay, 

"  Lordes,  I  you  warne  for  soth,  withoute  nay, 
I  may  no  lengere  lyven  heer  in  this  stounde  ; 
For  thurgh  Goddes  wille  deth  draweth  me  to  grounde." 
Ther  nas  non  of  hem  alle  that  herd  him  aright, 
That  they  hadden  reuthe  of  that  ilke  knight,  30 

And  seyde,  "  Sir,  for  Goddes  love,  ne  dismay  you  nought ; 
God  may  do  bote  of  bale  that  is  now  i-wrought." 
Than  spak  the  goode  knight,  sik  ther  he  lay, 

"  Boote  of  bale  God  may  sende,  I  wot  it  is  no  nay  ; 
But  I  byseke  you,  knightes,  for  the  love  of  me, 
Goth  and  dresseth  my  lond  among  my  sones  thre. 
And,  sires,  for  the  love  of  God,  deleth  hem  nat  amys, 
And  forgetith  nat  Gamelyn,  my  yonge  sone  that  is. 
Taketh  heed  to  that  on,  as  wel  as  to  that  other  ; 
Selde  ye  see  ony  eyr  helpen  his  brother."  40 

Tho  leete  they  the  knight  lyen  that  was  nought  in  hele, 
And  wenten  in  to  counseil  his  londes  for  to  dele ; 
For  to  delen  hem  alle  to  oon,  that  was  her  thought, 
And  for  Gamelyn  was  yongest,  he  schuld  have  nought. 
Al  the  lond  that  ther  was  they  dalten  it  in  two, 
And  leeten  Gamelyn  the  yonge  withoute  loud  go, 
And  ech  of  hem  seyde  to  other  ful  lowde, 
His  bretheren  might  geve  him  lond  whan  he  good  cowde. 
•Whan  they  hadde  deled  the  lond  at  here  wille, 
They  come  agein  to  the  knight  ther  he  lay  ful  stille,      50 
And  tohlen  him  anon  right  how  they  haddeu  wrought ; 
And  the  knight  there  he  lay  liked  it  right  nought. 
Than  seyde  the  knight,  "  I  sware  by  seynt  Martyn, 
For  al  that  ye  have  y-doon  yit  is  the  lond  myn  ; 
For  Goddes  love,  neyhebours,  stondcth  alle  stille, 
Ami  I  wil  dele  my  lond  after  my  wille. 
Johan,  myn  cldeste  sone,  schal  have  plowcs  fyve, 

57. — pfowet  fyve.  A  plough  of  land  was  as  much  as  could  !>'■  ploughed 


ITS  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

That  was  my  fadres  heritage  whil  he  was  on  lyve  ; 

And  my  mycldeleste  sone  fyf  plowes  of  lond, 

That  I  halp  for  to  gete  with  my  right  hond  ;  60 

And  al  myn  other  pivrchas  of  londes  and  leedes 

That  I  byquethe  Gamelyn,  and  alle  my  goode  steedes. 

And  I  byseke  yow,  goode  men,  that  lawe  conne  of  londe, 

For  Gamelynes  love,  that  my  queste  stonde." 

Thus  dalte  the  knight  his  lond  by  his  day, 

Right  on  his  deth  bed  sik  ther  he  lay  ; 

And  sone  aftirward  he  lay  stoon  stille, 

And  deyde  whan  tyme  com,  as  it  was  Cristes  wille. 

And  anon  as  he  was  deed,  and  under  gras  i-grave, 

Sone  the  elder  brother  gyled  the  yonge  knave  ;  70 

He  took  into  his  hond  his  lond  and  his  leede, 

And  Gamelyn  himselfe  to  clothen  and  to  feede. 

He  clothed  him  and  fed  him  yvel  and  eek  wrothe, 

And  leet  his  londes  for-fare,  and  his  houses  bothe, 

His  parkes,  and  his  woodes,  and  dede  nothing  wel, 

And  seththen  he  it  abought  on  his  faire  fel. 

So  longe  was  Gamelyn  in  his  brotheres  halle, 

For  the  strengest  of  good  wil  they  dontiden  him  alle  ; 

Ther  was  non  therinne  nowther  yong  ne  olde, 

That  wolde  wraththe  Gamelyn,  were  he  never  so  bolde.  80 

Gamelyn  stood  on  a  day  in  his  brotheres  yerde, 

And  bygan  with  his  hond  to  handlen  his  berde  ; 

He  thought  on  his  londes  that  layen  unsawe, 

And  his  faire  okes  that  doun  were  i-drawe  ; 

His  parkes  were  i-broken,  and  his  deer  byreeved  ; 

Of  alle  his  goode  steedes  noon  was  him  byleved  ; 

His  howses  were  unhilid  and  ful  yvel  dight. 

Tho  thoughte  Gamelyn  it  wente  nought  aright. 

Afterward  cam  his  brother  walkynge  thare, 


with  one  plough.    It  was  in  the  middle  ages  a  common  mode  ol'  estimating 
landed  property. 

61. —  and  leedes.      i.e.   and  bondmen,  the  portion  of  the  population 
whicli  was  bought  and  sold  with  the  land. 


THE    I  OKES    TALE    OF    GAMELYN.  170 

And  seyde  to  Gamelyn,  "  Is  our  mete  yare  ?"  90 

Tho  wraththed  him  Gamelyn,  and  swor  by  Goddes  book, 

"  Thou  schalt  go  bake  thiself,  I  wil  nought  be  thy  cook." 

"  How  1  brother  Gamelyn,  how  answerest  thou  now  1 
Thou  spake  never  such  a  word  as  thou  dost  now." 

"  By  my  faith,"  seyde  Gamelyn,  "  now  me  thinketh  neede, 
Of  alle  the  harmes  that  I  have  I  tok  never  ar  heede. 
My  parkes  ben  to-broken,  and  my  deer  byreved, 
Of  myn  amiure  and  my  steedes  nought  is  me  bileved  ; 
Al  that  my  fader  me  byquath  al  goth  to  schame, 
And  therfor  have  thou  Goddes  curs,  brother,  by  thy  name." 
Than  byspak  his  brother,  that  rape  was  of  rees,  101 

"  Stond  stille,  gadelyng,  and  hold  right  thy  pees  ; 
Thow  schalt  be  fayn  for  to  have  thy  mete  and  thy  wede, 
What  spekest  thou,  Gamelyn,  of  lond  other  of  leede?" 
Thanne  seyde  Gamelyn,  the  child  that  was  ying, 

"  Cristes  curs  mot  he  have  that  clepeth  me  gadelyng  ! 
I  am  no  worse  gadelyng,  ne  no  worse  wight, 
But  born  of  a  lady,  and  geten  of  a  knight." 
Ne  durst  he  nat  to  Gamelyn  ner  a  foote  go, 
But  clepide  to  him  his  men,  and  seyde  to  hem  tho,        1 1 ° 

"  Goth  and  beteth  this  boy,  and  reveth  him  his  wyt, 
And  lat  him  leren  another  tyme  to  answere  me  bet.  ' 
Thanne  seyde  the  child,  yonge  Gamelyn, 

"  Cristes  curs  mot  thou  have,  brother  art  thou  im  n  ; 
And  if  I  schal  algate  be  beten  anon, 
Cristes  curs  mot  thou  have,  but  thou  be  that  oon." 
And  anon  his  brother  in  that  grete  hete 
Made  his  men  to  fette  staves  Gamelyn  to  bete. 
Whan  that  everich  of  hem  a  staf  had  i-nome, 
Gamelyn  was  war  anon  tho  he  seigh  hem  come;  l*2f) 

Tho  Gamelyn  seyh  hem  come,  he  loked  over  al, 
And  was  war  of  a  pestel  stood  under  a  wal  ; 
Gamelyn  was  light  of  foot  and  thider  gan  he  lepe, 
And  drof  alle  his  brotheres  men  right  on  an  hepe. 
He  loked  as  a  wilde  lyoun,  and  leyde  on  good  woon, 
Tho  his  brother  say  that,  he  bigan  to  goon  ; 


180  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

He  fley  up  intil  ;i  loft,  and  schette  the  dore  fast. 
Thus  Ganielyn  with  the  pestel  made  hem  alle  agast. 
Some  for  Garnelynes  love  and  some  for  his  eyghe. 
Alle  they  drowe  by  halves,  tho  he  gan  to  pleyghe.         130 

"  What !  how  now  ? "  seyde  Gamelyn,  "  evel  mot  ye  thee  ! 
Wil  ye  bygynne  contek,  and  so  sone  flee  ? " 
Gamelyn  sought  his  brother,  whider  he  was  flowe, 
And  saugh  wher  he  loked  out  at  a  wyndowe. 

"  Brother,"  sayde  Gamelyn,  "  com  a  litel  ner, 
And  I  wil  teche  the  a  play  atte  bokeler." 
His  brother  him  answerde,  and  swor  by  seynt  Rycher, 

"  Whil  the  pestel  is  in  thin  hond,  I  wil  come  no  neer  ; 
Brother,  I  wil  make  thy  pees,  I  swere  by  Cristes  ore, 
Cast  away  the  pestel,  and  wraththe  the  nomore."  I-*0 

"  I  mot  neede,"  sayde  Gamelyn,  "  wraththe  me  at  oones, 
For  thou  wolde  make  thy  men  to  breke  myne  boones, 
Ne  had  I  hadde  mayn  and  might  in  myn  amies, 
To  have  i-put  hem  fro  me,  he  wolde  have  do  me  harrnes.'' 

"  Gamelyn,"  sayde  his  brother,  "  be  thou  nought  Avroth, 
For  to  seen  the  have  harm  it  were  me  right  loth  ; 
I  ne  dide  it  nought,  brother,  but  for  a  fondyng, 
For  to  loken  or  thou  were  strong  and  art  so  ying." 

"  Com  adoun  than  to  me,  and  graunte  me  my  bone, 
Of  thing  I  wil  the  aske,  and  we  schul  saught  sone."      1  ">" 
Doun  than  cam  his  brother,  that  fykil  was  and  felle, 
And  was  swithe  sore  agast  of  the  pestelle. 
He  seyde,  "  Brother  Gamelyn,  aske  me  thy  boone, 
And  loke  thou  me  blame  but  I  graunte  sone." 
Thanne  seyde  Gamelyn,  "  Brother,  i-wys, 
And  we  schulle  ben  at  oon,  thou  most  me  graunte  this, 
Al  that  my  fader  me  byquath  whil  he  was  on  lyve, 
Thou  most  do  me  it  have,  gif  we  schul  nat  stryve."        159 

"  That  schalt  thou  have,  Gamelyn,  I  swere  by  Cristes  ore  ! 
Al  that  thi  fader  the  byquath,  though  thou  woldest  have 
Thy  lond,  that  lyth  laye,  ful  wel  it  schal  be  sowe,  [more  ; 
And  thyn  bowses  reysed  up,  that  ben  leyd  so  low." 
Thus  seyde  the  knight  to  Gamelyn  with  mowthe, 


THE  COKES  TALE  OF  GAMELYN.         181 

And  thought  eek  of  falsnes,  as  he  wel  couthe. 
The  knight  thought  on  tresoun,  and  Ganielyn  on  noon, 
And  went  and  kist  his  brother,  and  than  they  were  at  oon. 
Alias  !  yonge  Gamelyn,  nothing  he  ne  wiste 
With  which  a  false  tresoun  his  brother  him  kiste. 
Litheth,  and  lestneth,  and  holdeth  your  tonge, 
And  ye  schul  heere  talkyng  of  Ganielyn  the  yonge.       170 
Ther  was  ther  bysiden  cryed  a  wrastlyng, 
And  therfor  ther  was  sette  up  a  ram  and  a  ryng  ; 
And  Gamelyn  was  in  good  wil  to  wende  therto, 
For  to  preven  his  might  what  he  cowthe  do. 

"  Brother,"  seyde  Gamelyn,  "  by  seynt  Richer, 
Thou  most  lene  me  to  nyght  a  litel  courser 
That  is  freisch  to  the  spore,  on  for  to  ryde, 
I  most  on  an  erande,  a  litel  her  byside." 

"  By  God  ! "  seyd  his  brother,  "  of  steedes  in  my  stalle 
Go  and  chese  the  the  best,  and  spare  non  of  alle,  180 

Of  steedes  or  of  coursers  that  stonden  hem  bisyde, 
And  tel  me,  goode  brother,  whider  thou  wolt  ryde.'' 

"  Her  byside,  brother,  is  cryed  a  wrastlyng, 
And  therfor  schal  be  set  up  a  ram  and  a  ryng  ; 
Moche  worschip  it  were,  brother,  to  us  alle, 
Might  I  the  ram  and  the  ryng  bryng  home  to  this  halle." 
A  steede  ther  was  sadeled  smertely  and  skeet, 
Gamelyn  did  a  paire  spores  fast  on  his  feet, 
He  set  his  foot  in  the  styrop,  the  steede  he  bystrood, 
And  toward  the  wrastelyng  the  yonge  child  rood.  190 

Tho  Gamelyn  the  yonge  was  ride  out  at  the  gate, 
The  fals  knight  his  brother  lokked  it  after  thate, 
And  bysoughte  Jhesu  Crist  that  is  heven  kyng 
He  mighte  broke  his  nekke  in  that  wrastlyng. 
As  sone  as  Gamelyn  com  ther  the  place  was, 
He  lighte  doun  of  his  steede,  and  stood  on  the  gras, 
And  ther  he  herd  a  frankcleyn  wayloway  syng, 
And  bigan  bitterly  his  hondes  for  bo  wryng. 


172. — a  mm.     See  before,  tli<>  general  prologue,  !.  550, 


182  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

"  Goode  man,"  seyde  Gamelyn,  "  why  niakestow  this  fare  >. 
Is  ther  no  man  that  may  you  helpe  out  of  this  care  1 "  200 

"  Alias  !"  seyde  this  frankeleyn,  "  that  ever  was  I  bore  ! 
For  tweye  stalworthe  sones  I  wene  that  I  have  lore  : 
A  champioun  is  in  the  place,  that  hath  i-wrought  me  sorwe, 
For  he  hath  slayn  my  two  sones,  but  if  God  hem  borwe. 
I  wold  geve  ten  pound,  by  Jhesu  Crist !  and  more, 
With  the  nones  I  fand  a  man  to  handil  him  sore." 

"  Goode  man,"  sayde  Gamelyn,  "  wilt  thou  wel  doon, 
Hold  myn  hors,  whil  my  man  draweth  of  my  schoon, 
And  help  my  man  to  kepe  my  clothes  and  my  steede, 
And  I  wil  into  place  go,  to  loke  if  I  may  speede."         210 

"  By  God  ! "  sayde  the  frankeleyn,  "  anon  it  schal  be  doon, 
I  wil  myself  be  thy  man,  to  drawen  of  thy  schoon, 
And  wende  thou  into  the  place,  Jhesu  Crist  the  speede  ! 
And  drede  not  of  thy  clothes,  nor  of  thy  goode  steede." 

Barfoot  and  ungert  Gamelyn  in  cam, 
Alle  that  weren  in  the  place  heede  of  him  they  nam, 
How  he  durst  auntre  him  of  him  to  doon  his  might 
That  was  so  doughty  champioun  in  wrastlyng  and  in  fight. 
Up  sterte  the  champioun  raply  and  anoon, 
Toward  yonge  Gamelyn  he  bigan  to  goon,  220 

And  sayde,  "  Who  is  thy  fader  and  who  is  thy  sire  1 
For  sothe  thou  art  a  gret  fool,  that  thou  come  hire." 
Gamelyn  answerde  the  champioun  tho, 

"  Thou  knewe  wel  my  fader  whil  he  couthe  go, 
Whiles  he  was  on  lyve,  by  seint  Martyn  ! 
Sir  Johan  of  Boundys  was  his  name,  and  I  Gamelyn." 

"  Felaw,"  seyde  the  champioun,  "al  so  mot  I  thryve, 
I  knew  wel  thy  fader,  whil  he  was  on  lyve, 
And  thiself,  Gamelyn,  I  wil  that  thou  it  heere, 
Whil  thou  were  a  yong  boy  a  moche  schrewe  thou  were." 
Than  seyde  Gamelyn,  and  swor  by  Cristes  ore,  231 

"  Now  I  am  older  woxe,  thou  schalt  me  fynd  a  more." 

"Be  God!"  sayde  the  champioun,  "  welcome  mote  thou  be! 
Come  thou  ones  in  myn  hond,  schalt  thou  never  the." 
It  was  wel  withinne  the  night,  and  the  moone  schon, 


THE  COKES  TALE  OF  GAMELYN.         183 

Whan  Gainelyn  and  the  champioun  togider  gon  to  goon. 
The  champioun  caste  tornes  to  Gamelyn  that  was  prest, 
And  Gamelyn  stood  stille,  and  bad  him  doon  his  best. 
Thanne  seyde  Gamelyn  to  the  champioun, 
"  Thou  art  fast  aboute  to  brynge  me  adoun  ; 
Now  I  have  i-proved  many  tornes  of  thyne,  240 

Thow  most,"  he  seyde,  "  proven  on  or  tuo  of  myne." 
Gamelyn  to  the  champioun  yede  smartly  anon, 
Of  alle  the  tornes  that  he  cowthe  he  schewed  him  but  oon, 
And  kast  him  on  the  left  syde,  that  thre  ribbes  to-brak, 
And  therto  his  oon  arm,  that  gaf  a  gret  crak. 
Thanne  seyde  Gamelyn  smertly  anoon, 
"  Schal  it  be  holde  for  a  cast,  or  elles   for  noon?" 
"By  God,"  seyd  the  champioun,  "whether  that  it  bee, 
He  that  comes  ones  in  thin  hand  schal  he  never  thee  ! " 
Than  seyde  the  frankeleyn,  that  had  his  sones  there,     250 
"  Blessed  be  thou,  Gamelyn,  that  ever  thou  bore  were  ! " 

Thefrankleyn  seyd  to  the  champioun,  of  him  stood  him  noon 
"  This  is  yonge  Gamelyn  that  taughte  the  this  pleye."  [eye, 

Agein  answerd  the  champioun,  that  liked  nothing  welle, 
"  He  is  a  lither  mayster,  and  his  pley  is  right  felle  ; 
Sith  I  wrastled  first,  it  is  i-go  ful  yore, 
But  I  was  nevere  my  lyf  handled  so  sore." 
Gamelyn  stood  in  the  place  allone  withoute  serk, 
And  seyd,  "  If  ther  be  eny  mo,  lat  hem  come  to  werk, 
The  champioun  that  peyned  him  to  werke  so  sore,        200 
It  semeth  by  his  continauuce  that  he  wil  nomore." 
Gamelyn  in  the  place  stood  as  stille  as  stoon, 
For  to  abyde  wrastelyng,  but  ther  com  noon  ; 
Ther  was  noon  with  Gamelyn  wolde  wrastle  more, 
For  he  handled  the  champioun  so  wonderly  sore. 
Two  gentilmen  ther  were  yenietlc  the  place, 
('omen  to  Gamelyn,  God  geve  him  goode  grace  ! 
And  sayde  to  hem,  "Do  on  thyn  hosen  and  thy  schoon, 
For  sothe  at  this  tyme  this  i'eire  is  i-doon." 
Ami  than  seyde  Gamelyn,  '•  S.>  mot  I  we]  6  i 
1  have  nought  yet  hahemlel  sold  up  m_\   ware."  270 


1  8  I  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Tho  seyde  the  champioun.  "  So  brouk  I  my  sweere, 
He  is  a  fool  that  therof  beyeth,  thou  sellest  it  so  deere." 
Tho  sayde  the  frankeleyn  that  was  in  moche  care, 

"  Felaw,"  he  seyde,  "  why  lakkest  thou  his  ware  I 
By  seynt  Janie  in  Galys,  that  many  man  hath  sought, 
Yet  it  is  to  good  cheep  that  thou  hast  i-bought." 
Tho  that  wardeynes  were  of  that  wrastlyng, 
Come  and  broughte  Gamelyn  the  ram  and  the  ryng, 
And  seyden,  "  Have,  Gamelyn,  the  ryng  and  the  ram, 
For  the  best  wrasteler  that  ever  here  cam." 
Thus  wan  Gamelyn  the  ram  and  the  ryng,  280 

And  wente  with  moche  joye  home  in  themornyng. 
His  brother  seih  wher  he  cam  with  the  grete  rowte, 
And  bad  schitte  the  gate,  and  holde  him  withoute. 
The  porter  of  his  lord  was  ful  sore  agast, 
And  stert  anon  to  the  gate,  and  lokked  it  fast. 

Now  litheth,  and  lestneth,  bothe  yong  and  olde, 
And  ye  schul  heere  gamen  of  Gamelyn  the  bolde. 
Gamelyn  come  therto  for  to  have  comen  in, 
And  thanne  was  it  i-schet  faste  with  a  pyn  ; 
Than  seyde  Gamelyn,  "  Porter,  undo  the  yate, 
For  many  good  mannes  sone  stondeth  therate."  290 

Than  answerd  the  porter,  and  swor  by  Goddes  berde, 

"  Thow  ne  schalt,  Gamelyn,  come  into  this  yerde." 

"  Thow  lixt,"  sayde  Gamelyn,  "so  browke  I  my  chyn!" 
He  smot  the  wyket  with  his  foot,  and  brak  awey  the  pyn. 
The  porter  seyh  tho  it  might  no  better  be, 
He  sette  foot  on  erthe,  and  fast  bigan  to  flee. 

"  By  my  faith,"  seyde  Gamelyn,  "  that  travail  is  i-lore, 
For  I  am  of  foot  as  lighte  as  thou,  though  thow  haddest 
Gamelyn  overtook  the  porter,  and  his  teene  wrak,    [swore." 
And  gert  him  in  the  nekke,  that  the  bon  to-brak,  300 

And  took  him  by  that  oon  arm,  and  threw  him  in  a  welle, 
Seven  fadmen  it  was  deep,  as  I  have  herd  telle. 
Whan  Gamelyn  the  yonge  thus  hadde  pleyd  his  play, 
Alle  that  in  the  yerde  were,  drewen  hem  away  ; 
They  drcdden  him  ful  sore,  for  werkes  that  he  wroughtc, 


THE    COKES    TALE    OF    GAMELYN.  185 

And  for  the  faire  company  that  he  thider  broughte. 
Gamelyn  yede  to  the  gate,  and  leet  it  up  wyde ; 
He  leet  in  alle  maner  men  that  gon  in  wold  or  ryde, 
And  seyde,  "  Ye  be  welcome  withouten  eny  greeve, 
For  we  wiln  be  maistres  heer,  and  aske  no  man  leve.    31 0 
Yestirday  I  lefte,"  seyde  yonge  Gamelyn, 

"  In  my  brother  seller  fyve  tonne  of  wyn  ; 
I  wil  not  that  this  compaignye  parten  a-twynne, 
And  ye  wil  doon  after  me,  whil  eny  sope  is  thrynne ; 
And  if  my  brother  grucche,  or  make  foul  cheere, 
Other  for  spense  of  mete  or  drynk  that  we  spenden  heere, 
I  am  oure  catour,  and  here  oure  aller  purs, 
He  schal  have  for  his  grucchyng  seint  Maries  curs. 
My  brother  is  a  nyggoun,  I  swer  by  Cristes  ore, 
And  we  wil  spende  largely  that  he  hath  spared  yore,    320 
And  who  that  maketh  grucchyng  that  we  here  dwelle, 
He  schal  to  the  porter  into  the  draw-welle." 
Seven  dayes  and  seven  nyght  Gamelyn  held  his  feste, 
With  moche  myrth  and  solas  that  was  ther  and  no  cheste; 
In  a  litel  toret  his  brother  lay  i-steke, 
And  sey  hem  wasten  his  good,  but  durst  he  not  speke. 
Erly  on  a  mornyng  on  the  eighte  day 
The  gestes  come  to  Gamelyn  and  wolde  gon  here  way. 

"  Lordes,"  seyde  Gamelyn,  "  will  ye  so  hye  1 
Al  the  wyn  is  not  yet  ydronke,  so  brouk  I  myn  ye."   330 
Gamelyn  in  his  herte  was  he  ful  wo, 
Whan  his  gestes  took  her  lcvc  from  him  for  to  go  ; 
He  wold  they  had  lenger  abide,  and  they  seyde  nay, 
But  bitaughte  Gamelyn  God,  and  good  day. 
Thus  made  Gamelyn  his  fest,  and  brought  it  wel  to  ende, 
And  after  his  gestys  took  leve  to  wende. 

Litheth,  and  lestneth,  and  holdeth  youre  tonge, 
And  ye  schul  heere  gamen  of  Gamelyn  the  yonge  ; 
Ilerkneth,  lordyngcs,  and  lesteneth  aright, 
Whan  alle  the  gestes  were  goon  howGamelyn  was  dight.  3  lo 
Al  the  whil  that  Gamelyn  hceld  his  mangerye, 
His  brother  thought  on  him  be  wrekc  with  his  treccherie. 


L86  THE    CANTERBURY    TALKS. 

Tho  Gamelyns  gestes  were  riden  and  i-goon, 

Gainelyn  stood  alloue,  frendes  had  he  noon  ; 

Tho  after  ful  soone  withinne  a  litel  stounde, 

Gamelyn  was  i-take  and  ful  hard  i-bounde. 

Forth  com  the  fals  knight  out  of  the  selleer, 

To  Gamelyn  his  brother  he  yede  ful  neer, 

And  sayde  to  Gamelyn,  "  Who  made  the  so  bold 

For  to  stroye  my  stoor  of  myn  houshold  V  350 

"  Brother,"  seyde  Gamelyn,  "  wraththe  the  right  nought, 
For  it  is  many  day  i-gon  siththcn  it  was  bought ; 
For,  brother,  thou  hast  i-had,  by  seynt  Richer, 
Of  fiftene  plowes  of  loud  this  sixtene  yer, 
And  of  alle  the  beestes  thou  hast  forth  bred, 
That  my  fader  me  biquath  on  his  deth  bed, 
Of  al  this  sixtene  yeer  I  geve  the  the  prow, 
For  the  mete  and  the  drynk  that  we  have  spended  now." 
Thanne  seyde  the  fals  knyght,  evel  mot  he  the, 

"  Herkne,  brother  Gamelyn,  what  I  wol  geve  the  ;  360 

For  of  my  body,  brother,  geten  heir  have  I  noon, 
I  wil  make  the  myn  heir,  I  swere  by  seint  Johan." 

"  Par  ma  foyV  sayd  Gamelyn,  "  and  if  it  so  be, 
And  thou  thenke  as  thou  seyst,  God  yelde  it  the  !" 
Nothing  wiste  Gamelyn  of  his  brotheres  gyle  ; 
Therfore  he  him  bigyled  in  a  litel  while. 

"  Gamelyn,"  seyde  he,  "  o  thing  I  the  telle, 
Tho  thou  threwe  my  porter  in  the  draw-welle, 
I  swor  in  that  wraththe,  and  in  that  grete  moot, 
That  thou  schuldest  be  bounde  bothe  hand  and  foot ;  370 
Therfore  I  the  biseche,  brother  Gamelyn, 
Lat  me  nought  be  for-sworn,  as  brother  art  thou  myn, 
Lat  me  bynde  the  now  bothe  hand  and  feet, 
For  to  holde  myn  avow,  as  I  the  biheet." 

"  Brother,"  sayde  Gamelyn,  "  al  so  mot  I  the  ! 
Thou  schalt  not  be  for-sworen  for  the  love  of  me." 
Tho  made  they  Gamelyn  to  sitte,  might  he  nat  stonde, 
Tyl  they  had  him  bounde  bothe  foot  and  honJe. 
The  fals  knight  his  brother  of  Gamelyn  was  agast, 


THE  COKES  TALE  OF  GAMELYN.         187 

And  scut  aftir  feteres  to  fetereu  him  fast.  380 

His  brother  made  losyuges  ou  him  ther  he  stood, 

And  told  hem  that  comen  in  that  Gamely n  was  wood. 

Gamelyn  stood  to  a  post  bounden  in  the  halle, 

Tho  that  comen  in  ther  loked  on  him  alle. 

Ever  stood  Gamelyn  even  upright  ; 

But  mete  ne  drynk  had  he  non  neither  day  ne  night. 

Than  seyde  Gamelyn,  "  Brother,  by  myn  hals, 

Now  I  have  aspied  thou  art  a  party  fals  ; 

Had  I  wist  that  tresoun  that  thou  haddest  y-founde, 

I  wolde  have  geve  the  strokes  or  I  had  be  bounde  !"     390 

Gamelyn  stood  bounden  stille  as  eny  stoon, 

Two  dayes  and  two  nightes  mete  had  he  noon. 

Tbanne  seyde  Gamelyn,  that  stood  y-bounde  stronge, 
"  Adam  spenser,  me  thinkth  I  faste  to  longe  : 

Adam  spenser,  now  I  bysech  the, 

For  the  mochel  love  my  fader  loved  the, 

Yf  thou  may  come  to  the  keyes,  lese  me  out  of  bond, 

And  I  wil  parte  with  the  of  my  free  lond." 

Thanne  seyde  Adam,  that  was  the  spencer, 
"  I  have  served  thy  brother  this  sixtene  yeer,  ln;) 

If  I  leete  the  goon  out  of  his  bour, 

He  wolde  say  after-ward  I  were  a  traytour." 
"  Adam,"  sayde  Gamelyn,  "  so  brouk  I  myn  hals  ! 

Thou  schalt  fyude  my  brother  atte  lastc  fals  ; 

Therfor,  brother  Adam,  louse  me  out  of  bond, 

And  I  wil  parte  with  the  of  my  free  lond." 
"  Up  swich  a  forward,"  seyd  Adam,  "  i-wys, 

I  wil  do  therto  al  that  in  me  is." 
••  Adam,"  seyde  Gamelyn,  "  al  so  mot  I  the, 

I  wol  hold  the  covenant,  and  thou  wil  me."  > !" 

Anon  as  Adames  lord  to  bedde  was  i-goon, 

Adam  took  the  keyes,  and  lect  Gamelyn  out  anoOD  ; 

He  unlokked  Gamelyn  bothe  hand  and  feet, 

In  hope  of  avauncement  that  he  him  byheet. 

Than  seyde  Gamelyn,  "Thanked  be  Goddes  sonde  ! 

X<>w  I  am  loosed  bothe  foot  and  honde, 


188  THE    CANTERBTJBY    TALES. 

Had  I  now  eten  and  dronken  aright, 

Ther  is  noon  in  this  hous  schulde  bynde  me  this  night." 

Adam  took  Gamelyn,  as  stille  as  ony  stoon, 

And  ladde  him  into  spence  rapely  and  anon, 

And  sette  him  to  soper  right  in  a  prive  stede, 

And  bad  him  do  gladly,  and  Gamelyn  so  dede. 

Anon  as  Gamelyn  hadde  eten  wel  and  fyn, 

And  therto  y-dronke  wel  of  the  rede  wyn, 

"  Adam,"  seyde  Gamelyn,  "  what  is  now  thy  reed  ? 
Wher  I  go  to  my  brother  and  girde  of  his  heed  '." 

"  Gamelyn,"  seyd  Adam,  "  it  schal  not  be  so, 
I  can  teche  the  a  reed  that  is  worth  the  two  : 
I  wot  wel  for  sothe  that  this  is  no  nay, 
We  schul  have  a  mangery  right  on  Sonday,  430 

Abbotes  and  priours  many  heer  schal  be, 
And  other  men  of  holy  chirche,  as  I  telle  the  ; 
Thow  schalt  stonde  up  by  the  post  as  thou  were  hond-fast, 
And  I  schal  leve  hem  unloke,  awey  thou  may  hem  cast. 
Whan  that  they  have  eten  and  waisschen  here  hondes, 
Thou  schalt  biseke  hem  alle  to  bryng  the  out  of  bondes, 
And  if  they  wille  borwe  the,  that  were  good  game, 
Then  were  thou  out  of  prisoun,  and  I  out  of  blame  ; 
And  if  everich  of  hem  say  unto  us  nay, 
I  schal  do  another  thing,  I  swere  by  this  day  !  4 10 

Thou  schalt  have  a  good  staf  and  I  wil  have  another, 
And  Cristes  curs  have  that  oon  that  faileth  that  other  !" 

"  Ye,  for  Gode  !"  sayde  Gamelyn,  "  I  say  it  for  me, 
If  I  fayle  on  my  syde,  yvel  mot  I  the  ! 
If  we  schul  algate  assoile  hem  of  here  synne, 
Warne  me,  brother  Adam,  whan  I  schal  bygynne.'' 

"  Gamelyn,"  seyde  Adam,  "  by  seynte  Charite, 


420. — spence.  The  spence,  or,  according  to  the  original  French 
form  of  the  word,  despence,  was  the  closet  or  room  in  convents  and  large 
houses,  where  the  victuals,  wine,  and  plate  were  locked  np,  and  the  per- 
son who  had  the  charge  of  it  was  called  the  spencer,  or  the  despenccr 
Hence  originated  two  common  family  names. 


THE  COKES  TALE  OF  GAMELYN.         189 

I  wil  warne  the  bjforn  whan  that  it  schal  be  ; 

Whan  I  twynk  on  the,  loke  for  to  goon, 

And  cast  awey  the  feteres,  and  come  to  me  anoon."       450 

"  Adam,''  seide  Gamelyn,  "  blessed  be  thy  bones  ! 
That  is  a  good  counseil  gevyng  for  the  nones  ; 
If  they  werne  me  thanne  to  brynge  me  out  of  bendes, 
I  wol  sette  goode  strokes  right  on  here  lendes." 
Tho  the  Sonday  was  i-come,  and  folk  to  the  feste, 
Faire  they  were  welcomed  bothe  lest  and  meste  ; 
And  ever  as  they  atte  halle  dore  comen  in, 
They  caste  their  eye  on  yonge  Gamelyn. 
The  fals  knight  his  brother,  ful  of  trechery, 
Alle  the  gestes  that  ther  were  atte  mangery,  460 

Of  Gamelyn  his  brother  he  tolde  hem  with  mouthe, 
Al  the  harm  and  the  schame  that  he  telle  couthe. 
Tho  they  were  served  of  messes  tuo  or  thre, 
Than  seyde  Gamelyn,  "  IIow  serve  ye  me  '. 
It  is  nought  wel  served,  by  God  that  al  made  ! 
That  I  sytte  fastyng,  and  other  men  make  glade." 
The  fals  knight  his  brother,  ther  that  he  stood, 
Tolde  alle  his  gestes  that  Gamelyn  was  wood  ; 
And  Gamelyn  stood  stille,  and  answerde  nought, 
But  Adames  wordes  he  held  in  his  thought.  1'l) 

Tho  Gamelyn  gan  speke  dolfully  withalle 
To  the  gret  lordes  that  saten  in  the  halle  : 

"  Lordes,"  he  seyde,  "  for  Cristes  passioun, 
Helpeth  brynge  Gamelyn  out  of  prisoun." 
Than  seyde  an  abbot,  sorwe  on  his  cheeke  ! 

"  He  schal  have  Cristes  curs  and  seynte  Maries  eeke, 
That  the  out  of  prisoun  beggcth  other  borwe, 
But  ever  worthe  hem  wel  that  doth  the  moche  sorwe." 
After  that  abbot  than  spak  another, 

"  I  wold  thin  heed  were  of,  though  thou  were  my  brother  !  480 
Alle  that  the  borwc,  foulemot  hem  falle  !" 
Thus  they  seyde  alle  that  were  in  the  halle. 
Than  seyde  a  priour,  yvel  mot  he  thryve  ! 

"  It  is  moche  skathe,  l>oy,  that  thou  art  on  lyve'' 


190  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

"  Ow,"  seyde  Gamelyn,  "  so  brouk  I  my  bon  ! 
Now  I  have  aspyed  that  freendes  have  I  non. 
Cursed  mot  he  worthe  bothe  fleisch  and  blood, 
That  ever  do  priour  or  abbot  ony  good  !" 
Adam  the  spencer  took  up  the  cloth, 

And  loked  on  Gamelyn,  and  say  that  he  was  wroth  ;     400 
Adam  on  the  pantrye  litel  he  thought, 
But  tuo  goode  staves  to  halle  dore  he  brought. 
Adam  loked  on  Gamelyn,  and  he  was  war  anoon, 
And  cast  awey  the  feteres,  and  he  bigan  to  goon  : 
Tho  he  com  to  Adam,  he  took  that  oo  staf, 
And  bygan  to  worche,  and  goode  strokes  gaf. 
Gamelyn  cam  into  the  halle,  and  the  spencer  bothe, 
And  loked  hem  aboute,  as  they  had  be  wrothe  ; 
Gamelyn  sprengeth  holy-water  with  an  oken  spire, 
That  some  that  stoode  upright  fel  in  the  fire.  500 

Ther  was  no  lewede  man  that  in  the  halle  stood, 
That  wolde  do  Gamelyn  eny  thing  but  good, 
But  stoode  besyde,  and  leet  hem  bothe  werche, 
For  they  hadde  no  rewthe  of  men  of  holy  cherche  ; 
Abbot  or  priour,  monk  or  chanoun, 
That  Gamelyn  overtok,  anon  they  yeeden  doun. 
Ther  was  non  of  hem  alle  that  with  his  staf  mette, 
That  he  made  him  overthrowe  and  quyt  him  his  dette. 

"  Gamelyn,"  seyde  Adam,  "  for  seynte  Charite, 
Pay  large  lyverey,  for  the  love  of  me,  510 

And  I  wil  kepe  the  dore,  so  ever  here  I  masse  ! 
Er  they  ben  assoyled  there  shan  noon  passe. 

"  Dowt  the  nought,"  seyde  Gamelyn,  "  whil  we  ben  in  feere 
Kep  thou  wel  the  dore,  and  I  wol  werche  heere, 
Stere  the,  good  Adam,  and  lat  ther  noon  flee, 
And  we  schul  telle  largely  how  many  ther  be." 

"  Gamelyn,"  seyde  Adam,  "  do  hem  but  good  : 
They  ben  men  of  holy  chirche,  draw  of  hem  no  blood, 
Save  wel  the  croune,  and  do  hem  non  harmes, 
But  hrek  bothe  her  legges  and  siththen  here  amies."    520 
Thus  Gamelyn  and  Adam  wroughte  right  fast. 


THE    COKES    TALE    OF    GAMELYN.  191 

And  pleyden  with  the  uionkes,  and  made  hem  agast. 
Thider  they  come  rydjng  jolily  with  swaynes, 
But  horn  agen  they  were  i-lad  in  cartes  and  in  waynes. 
Tho  they  hadden  al  y-don,  than  seyde  a  gray  frere, 

"  Alias  !  sire  abbot,  what  did  we  now  heere  ? 
Tho  that  comen  hider,  it  was  a  colde  reed, 
Us  hadde  ben  better  at  home  with  water  and  breed." 
Whil  Gamelyn  made  ordres  of  nionkes  and  frere, 
Ever  stood  his  brother,  and  made  foul  chere  ;  530 

Gamelyn  up  with  his  staff,  that  he  wel  knew, 
And  gert  him  in  the  nekke,  that  he  overthrew ; 
A  litel  above  the  girdel  the  rigge-bon  to-barst ; 
And  sette  him  in  the  feteres  ther  he  sat  arst. 

"  Sitte  ther,  brother,"  sayde  Gamelyn, 

"  For  to  colyn  thy  blood,  as  I  dide  myn." 
As  swithe  as  they  hadde  i-wroken  hem  on  here  foon, 
They  askeden  watir  and  wisschen  anoon, 
What  some  for  here  love  and  some  for  awe, 
Alle  the  servantz  served  hem  of  the  beste  lawe.  540 

The  scherreve  was  thennes  but  a  fyve  myle, 
And  al  was  y-told  him  in  a  litel  while, 
How  Gamelyn  and  Adam  had  doon  a  sory  rees, 
Bounden  and  i-wounded  men  agein  the  kinges  pees  ; 
Tho  bigan  sone  strif  for  to  wake, 
And  the  scherref  aboute  cast  Gamelyn  for  to  take. 

Now  lytheth  and  lestneth,  so  God  gif  you  goode  fyn ! 
And  ye  schul  heere  good  game  of  yonge  Gamelyn. 
Four  and  twenty  yonge  men,  that  heelden  hem  ful  boldej 
Come  to  the  schirref  and  seyde  that  they  wolde  550 

Gamelyn  and  Adam  fetten  away. 
The  scherref  gaf  hem  leve,  soth  as  I  you  say  ; 
They  hyeden  faste,  wold  they  nought  bylynnc, 
Til  they  come  to  the  gate,  ther  Gamelyn  was  inne. 
They  knokked  on  the  gate,  the  porter  was  ny, 
And  loked  out  at  an  hoi,  as  man  that  was  sly. 
The  porter  hadde  byholde  hem  a  litel  while, 
He  loved  wel  Gamelyn,  and  was  adrad  of  gyle, 


10-2  THE    CANTEBBURY    TALKS. 

And  asked  hem  withoute  what  was  here  wille.  500 

For  al  the  grete  company  thanne  spak  but  oon, 

"  Undo  the  gate,  porter,  and  lat  us  in  goon." 
Than  seyde  the  porter,  "  So  brouke  I  my  chyn, 
Ye  schul  sey  your  erand  er  ye  comen  in." 

"  Sey  to  Gamelyn  and  Adam,  if  here  wille  be, 
We  wil  speke  with  hem  wordes  two  or  thre." 

"  Felaw,"  seyde  the  porter,  "  stond  there  stille, 
And  I  wil  wende  to  Gamelyn  to  witen  his  wille." 
In  went  the  porter  to  Gamelyn  anoon, 
And  seyde,  "  Sir,  I  warne  you  her  ben  come  your  foon,  570 
The  scherreves  meyne  ben  atte  gate, 
For  to  take  you  bothe,  schul  ye  nat  skape." 

"  Porter,''  seyde  Gamelyn,  "  so  moot  I  wel  the  ! 
I  wil  allowe  the  thy  wordes  whan  I  my  tyme  se  ; 
Go  agayn  to  the  gate,  and  dwel  with  hem  a  while, 
And  thou  schalt  se  right  sone,  porter,  a  gyle." 

"  Adam,"  sayde  Gamelyn,  "  looke  the  to  goon, 
We  have  foomen  atte  gate,  and  frendes  never  oon ; 
It  ben  the  schirrefes  men,  that  hider  ben  i-come, 
They  ben  swore  to-gidere  that  we  schul  be  nome."         580 

"  Gamelyn,"  seyde  Adam,  "  hye  the  right  blyve, 
And  if  I  faile  the  this  day,  evel  mot  I  thry ve ! 
And  we  schul  so  welcome  the  scherreves  men, 
That  some  of  hem  schul  make  here  beddes  in  the  den." 
Atte  posterne  gate  Gamelyn  out  went, 
And  a  good  cart  staf  in  his  hand  he  hente ; 
Adam  hente  sone  another  gret  staf, 
For  to  helpe  Gamelyn,  and  goode  strokes  gaf. 
Adam  felde  tweyne,  and  Gamelyn  felde  thre, 
The  other  setten  feet  on  erthe,  and  bygonne  fie.  690 

"  What?"  seyde  Adam,  "  so  ever  here  I  masse! 
I  have  a  draught  of  good  wyn,  drynk  er  ye  passe.'' 

"  Nay,  by  God  !"  sayde  they,  "  thy  drynk  is  not  good, 
It  wolde  make  mannes  brayne  to  lien  in  his  hood." 
Gamelyn  stood  stille,  and  loked  him  aboute, 
And  seih  the  scherreve  come  with  a  gret  route. 


THE    COKES    TALE    OF    GAMELYN.  193 

"  Adam,"  sayde  Gamelyn,  "  my  reed  is  now  this, 

Abide  we  no  lenger,  lest  we  fare  amys  : 

I  rede  that  we  to  wode  goon  ar  that  we  be  founde, 

Better  is  us  ther  loose  than  in  town  y-bounde." 

Adam  took  by  the  hond  yonge  Garnelyn. 

And  everich  of  hem  tuo  drank  a  draught  of  wyn, 

And  after  took  her  coursers  and  wenten  her  way. 

Tho  fond  the  scherreve  nest,  but  non  ay. 

The  scherreve  lighte  adoun,  and  went  into  the  halle, 

And  fond  the  lord  y-fetered  faste  withalle. 

The  scherreve  unfetered  him  sone,  and  that  anoon, 

And  sent  after  a  leche  to  hele  his  rigge-boon. 
Lete  we  now  this  fals  knight  lyen  in  his  care, 

And  talke  we  of  Gamelyn,  and  loke  how  he  fare.  6I° 

Gamelyn  into  the  woode  stalkede  stille, 

And  Adam  the  spenser  liked  ful  ylle  ; 

Adam  swor  to  Gamelyn,  by  seynt  Richer, 
"  Now  I  see  it  is  mery  to  be  a  spencer, 

That  lever  me  were  keyes  for  to  here, 

Than  walken  in  this  wilde  woode  my  clothes  to  tere." 
"  Adam,"  seyde  Gamelyn,  "  dismaye  the  right  nought ; 

Many  good  mannes  child  in  care  is  i-brought.'' 

And  as  they  stoode  talkyng  bothen  in  feere, 

Adam  herd  talkyng  of  men,  and  neyhhim  thought  thei  were. 

Tho  Gamelyn  under  the  woode  loked  aright,  621 

Sevene  score  of  yonge  men  he  saugh  wel  adight ; 

Alle  satte  atte  mete  in  compas  aboute. 

"  Adam,"  seyde  Gamelyn,  "  now  have  we  no  doute, 

After  bale  cometh  boote,  thurgh  grace  of  God  almight ; 

Me  thynketh  of  mete  and  of  drynk  that  I  have  a  sight." 

Adam  lokede  tho  under  woode  bowgh, 

And  whan  he  seyh  mete  he  was  glad  ynough  ; 

For  he  hopede  to  God  for  to  have  his  deel, 

And  he  was  sore  alonged  after  a  good  meel.  630 

As  he  seyde  that  word,  the  mayster  outlawe 

Saugh  Gamelyn  and  Adam  under  woode  schawe  : 
"  Yonge  men,"  seyde  the  maister,  "  by  the  goode  roode, 


194  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

I  am  war  of  gestes,  God  send  us  non  but  goode ; 

Yonder  ben  tuo  yonge  men,  wonder  wel  adight, 

And  paraventure  ther  ben  mo,  who  so  loked  aright  : 

Ariseth  up,  ye  yonge  men,  and  fetteth  hem  to  me, 

It  is  good  that  we  witen  what  men  they  bee." 

Up  ther  sterten  sevene  fro  the  dyner, 

And  metten  with  Gamelyn  and  Adam  spenser.  640 

Whan  they  were  neyh  hem,  than  seyde  that  oon, 

"  Yeldeth  up,  yonge  men,  your  bowes  and  your  floon." 
Thanne  seyde  Gamelyn,  that  yong  was  of  elde, 

"  Moche  sorwe  mot  he  have  that  to  you  hem  yelde ! 
I  curse  non  other,  but  right  myselve, 
They  ye  fette  to  yow  fyve,  thanne  ye  be  twelve." 
Tho  they  herde  by  his  word  that  might  was  in  his  arm, 
Ther  was  none  of  hem  alle  that  wolde  do  him  harm, 
But  sayd  unto  Gamelyn,  myldely  and  stille, 

"  Com  afore  our  maister,  and  sey  to  him  thy  wille."  "50 

"  Yonge  men,"  sayde  Gamelyn,  "  by  your  lewte, 
What  man  is  your  maister  that  ye  with  be  V 
Alle  they  answerde  withoute  lesyng, 

"  Oure  maister  is  i-crouned  of  outlawes  kyng." 

"  Adam,"  seyde  Gamelyn,  "go  we  in  Cristes  name, 
He  may  neyther  mete  nor  drynk  werne  us  for  schame. 
If  that  he  be  heende,  and  come  of  gentil  blood, 
He  wol  geve  us  mete  and  drynk,  and  doon  us  som  good." 

"  By  seynt  Jame  !"  seyd  Adam,  "  what  harm  that  I  gete, 
I  wil  auntre  to  the  dore  that  I  hadde  mete."  660 

Gamelyn  and  Adam  wente  forth  in  feere, 
And  they  grette  the  maister  that  they  founde  there. 
Than  seide  the  maister,  kyng  of  outlawes, 

"  What  seeke  ye,  yonge  men,  under  woode  schawes  '?" 
Gamelyn  answerde  the  kyng  with  his  croune, 

"  He  moste  needes  walke  in  woode,  that  may  not  walke  in 
Sire,  we  walke  not  heer  noon  harm  for  to  do,  [towne. 

But  if  we  meete  with  a  deer,  to  scheete  therto, 
As  men  that  ben  hungry,  and  mow  no  mete  fynde, 
And  ben  harde  bystad  under  woode  lynde."  670 

Of  Gamelynes  wordes  the  maister  hadde  routhe, 


THE    COKES    TALE    OF    GAMELYN.  195 

And  seyde,  "  Ye  schal  have  ynough,  have  God  my  trouthe." 
He  bad  hem  sitte  ther  adoun,  for  to  take  reste  ; 
And  bad  hem  ete  and  drynke  and  that  of  the  beste. 
As  they  sete  and  eeten  and  dronke  wel  and  fyn, 
Than  seyd  that  oon  to  that  other,  "  This  is  Gamelyn." 
Tho  was  the  maister  outlawe  into  counseil  nome, 
And  told  how  it  was  Gamelyn  that  thider  was  i-come. 
Anon  as  he  herde  how  it  was  bifalle, 

lie  made  him  maister  under  him  over  hem  alle.  680 

Within  the  thridde  wyke  him  com  tydyng, 
To  the  maister  outlawe  that  tho  was  her  kyng, 
That  he  schulde  come  horn,  his  pecs  was  i-made  ; 
And  of  that  goode  tydyng  he  was  tho  ful  glad. 
Tho  seyde  he  to  his  yonge  men,  soth  for  to  telle, 
'  Me  ben  comen  tydynges  I  may  no  lenger  dwelle." 
Tho  was  Gamelyn  anon,  withoute  taryyng, 
Made  maister  outlawe,  and  crouned  her  kyng. 

Tho  was  Gamelyn  crouned  kyng  of  outlawes, 
And  walked  a  while  under  woode  schawes.  690 

The  fals  knight  his  brother  was  scherreve  and  sire, 
And  leet  his  brother  endite  for  hate  and  for  ire. 
Tho  were  his  bonde-men  sory  and  nothing  glade, 
Whan  Gamelyn  her  lord  wolves-heed  was  cryed  and  made ; 
And  sente  out  of  his  men  wher  they  might  him  fynde, 
For  to  seke  Gamelyn  under  woode  lynde, 
To  telle  him  tydynges  how  the  wynd  was  went, 
And  al  his  good  reved,  and  his  men  schent. 


694.  wolvcs-hecd.  This  was  the  ancient  Saxon  formula  of  outlawry 
and  seems  to  have  heen  literally  equivalent  to  setting  the  man's  head 
at  the  same  estimate  as  a  wolfs  head.  In  the  laws  of  Edward  the 
Confessor,  it  is  said  of  a  person  who  has  lied  justice,  "  Si  vero  postea 
repertus  fuerit,  et  retineri  possit,  vivus  regi  reddatur,  vel  caput  ejus,  si  se 
defenderit.  Lupinum  enim  gerit  caput,  quod  angliee  wnlfrs-heofod  dicitur. 
Et  ha;c  est  lex  communis  et  generalis  de  omnibus  utlagatis." 

698 — his  men  schent.  When  a  man's  lands  were  seized  by  force  or 
unjustly,  the  peasantry  on  the  estates  were  exposed  to  be  plundered  and 
ill  treated  by  the  followers  of  the  intruder. 

o  2 


196  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Whan  they  had  him  founde,  on  knees  they  hem  sette, 
And  adoun  with  here  hood,  and  here  lord  grette  :         70° 
"  Sire,  wraththe  you  nought,  for  the  goode  roode, 
For  we  have  brought  you  tydynges,  but  they  be  nat  goode. 
Now  is  thy  brother  scherreve,  and  hath  the  baillye, 
And  he  hath  endited  the,  and  wolves-heed  doth  the  crie." 
Alias  ! "  seyde  Gamelyn,  "  that  ever  I  was  so  slak, 
That  I  ne  hadde  broke  his  nekke,  tho  his  rigge  brak  ! 
Goth,  greteth  hem  wel,  myn  housbondes  and  wyf, 
I  wol  ben  atte  nexte  schire,  have  God  my  lyf." 
Gamelyn  cam  wel  redy  to  the  nexte  schire, 
And  ther  was  his  brother  bothe  lord  and  sire.  710 

Gamelyn  com  boldelych  into  the  moot  halle, 
And  put  adoun  his  hood  among  the  lordes  alle  : 

"  God  save  you  alle,  lordynges,  that  now  here  be  ! 
But  broke-bak  scherreve,  evel  mot  thou  the  ! 
Why  hast  thou  do  me  that  schame  and  vilonye, 
For  to  late  endite  me,  and  wolves-heed  me  crye  1 " 
Tho  thought  the  fals  knight  for  to  ben  awreke, 
And  leet  take  Gamelyn,  most  he  nomore  speke  ; 
Might  ther  be  nomore  grace,  but  Gamelyn  atte  last 
Was  cast  into  prisoun  and  fetered  ful  fast.  720 

Gamelyn  hath  a  brother  that  highte  sir  Ote, 
As  good  a  knight  and  heende  as  mighte  gon  on  foote. 
Anon  ther  yede  a  messager  to  that  goode  knight, 
And  told  him  altogidere  how  Gamelyn  was  dight. 
Anon  as  sire  Ote  herde  how  Gamelyn  was  adight, 
He  was  wonder  sory,  was  he  nothing  light, 
And  leet  sadle  a  steede,  and  the  way  he  nam, 
And  to  his  tweyne  bretheren  anon  right  he  cam. 

"  Sire,"  seyde  sire  Ote  to  the  scherreve  tho, 

"  We  ben  but  thre  bretheren,  schul  we  never  be  mo,       730 

701. — wraththe  you  nought.  The  messengers  of  ill  tidings,  however 
innocent  themselves,  often  experienced  all  the  first  anger  of  the  person  to 
whom  they  carried  them,  in  the  ages  of  feudal  power.  Hence  the  bearer 
of  ill  news  generally  began  by  deprecating  the  wrath  of  the  person 
addressed. 


THE  COKES  TALE  OF  GAMELYN.         197 

And  thou  hast  y-prisoned  the  best  of  us  alle ; 
Swich  another  brother  yvel  mot  him  bifalle ! " 

"  Sire  Ote,"  seide  the  fals  knight,  "  lat  be  thi  curs, 
By  God,  for  thy  wordes  he  schal  fare  the  wurs  ; 
To  the  kynges  prisoun  anon  he  is  y-nome, 
And  ther  he  schal  abyde  til  the  justice  come." 

"  Parde  ! "  seyde  sir  Ote,  "  better  it  schal  be, 
I  bidde  him  to  maympris,  that  thou  graunt  him  me, 
Til  the  nexte  sittyng  of  delyveraunce, 
And  thanne  lat  Gamelyn  stande  to  his  chaunce."  740 

"  Brother,  in  swich  a  forthward  take  him  to  the, 
And  by  thi  fader  soule,  that  the  bygat  and  me, 
But  if  he  be  redy  whan  the  justice  sitte 
Thou  schalt  bere  the  juggement  for  al  thi  grete  witte." 

"  I  graunte  wel,"  seide  sir  Ote,  "  that  it  so  be  : 
Let  delyver  him  anon,  and  tak  him  to  me." 
Tho  was  Gamelyn  delyvered  to  sire  Ote  his  brother ; 
And  that  night  dwelleden  that  on  with  that  other. 
On  the  morn  seyde  Gamelyn  to  sire  Ote  the  heende, 

"  Brother,"  he  seide,  "  I  moot  for  sothe  from  the  wende,  750 
To  loke  how  my  yonge  men  leden  here  lyf, 
Whether  they  lyven  in  joie  or  elles  in  stryf." 

"  Be  God  ! "  seyde  sire  Ote,  "  that  is  a  cold  reed, 
Now  I  see  that  al  the  cark  schal  fallen  on  myn  heed; 
For  whan  the  justice  sitte,  and  thou  be  nought  y-founde, 
I  schal  anon  be  take,  and  in  thy  stede  i-bounde." 

"  Brother,"  sayde  Gamelyn,  "  dismaye  the  nought, 
For  by  seint  Jame  in  Gales,  that  many  man  hath  sought. 
If  that  God  almighty  hold  my  lyf  and  witt, 
I  wil  be  ther  redy  whan  the  justice  sitt."  760 

Than  seide  sir  Ote  to  Gamelyn,  "  God  schilde  the  fro  schame, 
Com  whan  thou  seest  tyme,  and  bring  us  out  of  blame." 

Litheth  and  lestneth  and  holdeth  you  stille, 
And  ye  schul  here  how  Gamelyn  had  al  his  wille. 
Gamelyn  wente  ageiu  under  woode  rys, 
And  fond  there  pleying  yonge  men  of  prys  ; 
Tho  was  yonge  Gamelyn  glad  and  blithe  ynough, 


198  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

.Whan  he  fond  his  raery  men  under  woode  bough. 
Gamelyn  and  his  men  talked  in  feere, 
And  they  hadde  good  game  here  maister  to  heere,         770 
They  tolden  him  of  aventures  that  they  hadde  founde, 
And  Gamelyn  hem  tolde  agein  how  he  was  fast  i-bounde. 
Whil  Gamelyn  was  outlawed,  had  he  no  cors ; 
There  was  no  man  that  for  him  ferde  the  wors, 
But  abbotes  and  priours,  monk  and  chanoun, 
On  hem  left  he  nothing  whan  he  might  hem  nom. 
Whil  Gamelyn  and  his  men  made  merthes  ryve. 
The  fals  knight  his  brother,  yvel  mot  he  thryve  ! 
For  he  was  fast  about  bothe  day  and  other, 
For  to  byre  the  quest,  to  hangen  his  brother.  780 

Gamelyn  stood  on  a  day,  and  as  he  biheeld 
The  woodes  and  the  schawes  in  the  wilde  feeld, 
He  thought  on  his  brother  how  he  him  beheet 
That  he  wokle  be  redy,  whan  the  justice  seet ; 
He  thoughte  wel  that  he  wolde,  withoute  delay, 
Come  afore  the  justice  to  kepen  his  day, 
And  seide  to  his  yonge  men,  "  Dighteth  you  yare, 
For  whan  the  justice  sitt,  we  moote  be  thare, 
For  I  am  under  borwe  til  that  I  come, 
And  my  brother  for  me  to  prisoun  schal  be  nome."        790 
"  By  seint  Jame !  "  seyde  his  yonge  men,  "  and  thou  rede 
Ordeyne  how  it  schal  be,  and  it  schal  be  do."  [therto, 

Whil  Gamelyn  was  comyng  ther  the  justice  sat, 
The  fals  knight  his  brother,  forgat  he  nat  that, 
To  huyre  the  men  on  his  quest  to  hangen  his  brother; 
Though  he  hadde  nought  that  oon,  he  wolde  have  that 
Tho  cam  Gamelyn  fro  under  woode  rys,  [other. 

And  broughte  with  him  his  yonge  men  of  prys. 
"  I  se  wel,"  seyde  Gamelyn,  "  the  justice  is  sette, 
Go  aforn,  Adam,  and  loke  how  it  spette."  800 

Adam  went  into  the  halle,  and  loked  al  aboute, 

775.— abbotes.      Gamelyn's  enmity  to  abbots  and  monks  is  entirely  in 
character  with  the  Robin  Hood  ballads — it  was  the  feeling  of  the  age. 


THE  COKES  TALE  OF  GAMELYN.         199 

He  seyh  there  stonde  lordes  gret  and  stoute, 

And  sir  Ote  his  brother  fetered  wel  fast : 

Tho  went  Adam  out  of  halle,  as  he  were  agast. 

Adam  said  to  Gamelyn,  and  to  his  felaws  alle, 
"  Sir  Ote  stant  i-fetered  in  the  moot  halle." 
"  Yonge  men,"  seide  Gamelyn,  "  this  ye  heeren  alle : 

Sire  Ote  stant  i-fetered  in  the  moot  halle. 

If  God  gif  us  grace  wel  for  to  doo, 

He  schal  it  abegge  that  broughte  him  thertoo." 

Thanne  sayde  Adam,  that  lokkes  hadde  hore, 
" Cristes  curs  most  he  have  that  him  bond  so  sore!  810 

And  thou  wilt,  Gamelyn,  do  after  my  red, 

Ther  is  noon  in  the  halle  schall  here  awey  his  heed." 
"  Adam,"  seyde  Gamelyn,  "  we  wiln  nought  don  so, 

We  wil  slee  the  giltyf,  and  lat  the  other  go. 

I  wil  into  the  halle,  and  with  the  justice  speke, 

On  hem  that  ben  gulyf  I  wil  ben  awreke. 

Lat  non  skape  at  the  dore,  take,  yonge  men,  yeme, 

For  I  wil  be  justice  this  clay  domes  to  deme. 

God  spede  me  this  day  at  my  newe  werk ! 

Adam,  com  on  with  me,  for  thou  schalt  be  my  clerk."    820 

His  men  answereden  him  and  bad  him  doon  his  best, 
"  And  if  thou  to  us  have  neede,  thou  schalt  fynde  us  prest ; 

We  wiln  stande  with  the  whil  that  we  may  dure, 

And  but  we  werke  manly,  pay  us  non  hure." 
"  Yonge  men,"  seyde  Gamelyn,  "  so  mot  I  wel  the ! 

As  trusty  a  maister  ye  schal  fynde  of  me." 

Right  there  the  justice  sat  in  the  halle, 

In  wente  Gamelyn  amonges  hem  alle. 

Gamelyn  leet  unfetere  his  brother  out  of  beende. 

Thanne  seyde  sire  Ote,  his  brother  that  was  heende,      830 
"  Thou  haddest  almost,  Gamelyn,  dwelled  to  longe, 

For  the  cpiest  is  oute  on  me,  that  I  schulde  hongc." 
"  Brother,"  seyde  Gamelyn,  "  so  God  gif  me  good  rest ! 

This  day  they  schuln  ben  hanged  that  ben  on  thy  quest ; 

And  the  justice  bothe  that  is  jugges  man, 

And  the  schcrreve  bothe,  thurgh  him  it  bigan." 


•-iOO  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Than  seyde  Garnelyn,  to  the  justise, 
"  Now  is  thy  power  y-don,  thou  most  nedes  arise ; 
Thow  hast  geven  domes  that  ben  yvel  dight, 
I  wil  sitten  in  thy  sete,  and  dressen  hem  aright."  810 

The  justice  sat  stille,  and  roos  nought  anoon  ; 
And  Gamelyn  clevede  his  cheeke  boon ; 
Gamelyn  took  him  in  his  arm,  and  no  more  spak, 
But  threw  him  over  the  barre,  and  his  arm  to-brak. 
Durste  non  to  Gamelyn  seye  but  good, 
For-fered  of  the  company  that  withoute  stood. 
Gamelyn  sette  him  doun  in  the  justices  sete, 
And  sire  Ote  his  brother  by  him,  and  Adam  at  his  feet. 
Whan  Gamelyn  was  i-set  in  the  justices  stede, 
Herkneth  of  a  bourde  that  Gamelyn  dede.  850 

He  leet  fetre  the  justice  and  his  fals  brother, 
And  dede  hem  come  to  the  barre,  that  oon  with  that  other. 
Tho  Gamelyn  hadde  thus  y-doon,  had  he  no  rest, 
Til  he  had  enquered  who  was  on  the  quest 
For  to  deme  his  brother,  sir  Ote,  for  to  honge  ; 
Er  he  wiste  which  they  were  it  thoughte  ful  longe. 
But  as  sone  as  Gamelyn  wiste  wher  they  were, 
He  dede  hem  everichone  fetere  in  feere, 
And  bringen  hem  to  the  barre,  and  sette  hem  in  rewe ; 
"  By  my  faith  !"  seyde   the  justice,  "  the  scherreve   is  a 
Than  seyde  Gamelyn  to  the  justise,  [schrewe."  860 

"  Thou  hast  y-geve  domes  of  the  wors  assise, 
And  the  twelve  sisours  that  weren  of  the  queste, 
They  schul  ben  hanged  this  day,  so  have  I  reste." 
Thanne  seide  the  scherreve  to  yonge  Gamelyn, 
"  Lord,  I  crie  the  mercy,  brother  art  thou  myn." 
"  Therfore,"  seyde  Gamelyn,  "  have  thou  Cristes  curs, 
For  and  thou  were  maister,  yit  I  schulde  have  wors." 
But  for  to  make  short  tale,  and  nought  to  tarie  longe, 
He  ordeyned  him  a  queste  of  his  men  so  stronge  ;         870 
The  justice  and  the  scherreve  bothe  honged  hye, 
To  weyven  with  ropes  and  with  the  wynd  drye, 
And  the  twelve  sisours,  sorwe  have  that  rekke ! 


THE  MAN  OF  LAWES  PKOLOGE.         201 

Alle  they  were  hanged  faste  by  the  nekke. 

Thus  ended  the  fals  knight  with  his  treccherie, 

That  ever  had  i-lad  his  lyf  in  falsnes  and  folye  ; 

He  was  hanged  by  the  nek,  and  nought  by  the  purs, 

That  was  the  meede  that  he  had  for  his  fadres  curs. 

Sire  Ote  was  eldest,  and  Gamelyn  was  ying, 

They  wenten  with  here  freendes  even  to  the  kyng  ;       S80 

They  made  pees  with  the  kyng  of  the  best  assise. 

The  kyng  loved  wel  sir  Ote  and  made  him  a  justise. 

And  after  the  kyng  made  Gamelyn,  bothe  in  est  and  west, 

Chef  justice  of  al  his  fre  forest ; 

Alle  his  wighte  yonge  men  the  kyng  forgaf  here  gilt, 

And  sitthen  in  good  office  the  kyng  hem  hath  i-pilt. 

Thus  wan  Gamelyn  his  lond  and  his  leede, 

And  wrak  him  of  his  enemys,  and  quyt  hem  here  meede, 

And  sire  Ote  his  brother  made  him  his  heir, 

And  siththen  wedded  Gamelyn  a  wyf  bothe  good  and  feyr; 

They  lyveden  togidere  whil  that  Crist  wolde,  890 

And  sithen  was  Gamelyn  graven  under  moolde. 

And  so  schal  we  alle,  may  ther  no  man  fle  : 

God  bryng  us  to  the  joye  that  ever  schal  be! 


THE    MAN    OF    LAWES    1'ROLOGE. 

Owre  Hoste  sawh  that  the  brighte  sonne 
The  arke  of  his  artificial  day  hath  i-ronne 
The  fourths  part,  of  half  an  hour  and  more; 
And  though  lie  were  nat  depe  expert  in  lore, 
He  wist  it  was  the  eightetene  day 


4425. — eightetene.  This  is  thr  reading  in  which  the  MSS.  seem 
mostly  In  agree.  The  MS.  Harl.  resi<K  Ihretlrntlir.  Tyrwhilt  lia*-  liijhti 
and  twenty. 


202  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Of  April,  that  is  rnessanger  to  May  ; 

And  sawe  wel  that  the  schade  of  every  tree 

Was  in  the  lengthe  the  same  quantite 

That  was  the  body  erecte,  that  caused  it; 

And  therfore  by  the  schadwe  he  took  his  wit,        4430 

That  Phebus,  which  that  schoon  so  fair  and  bright, 

Degrees  was  five  and  fourty  clombe  on  hight ; 

And  for  that  day,  as  in  that  latitude, 

It  was  ten  of  the  clokke,  he  gan  conclude  ; 

And  sodeynly  he  plight  his  hors  aboute. 

" Lordynges,"  quod  he,  "I  wanie  you  al  the  route, 
The  fourthe  party  of  this  day  is  goon ; 
Now,  for  the  love  of  God  and  of  seint  Jon, 
Leseth  no  tynie,  as  forthe  as  ye  may. 
Lordynges,  the  tyme  passeth  night  and  day,  "W 

And  stelith  fro  us,  what  pryvely  slepyng, 
And  what  thurgh  necligence  in  oure  wakyng, 
As  doth  the  streem,  that  torneth  never  agayn, 
DescendjTig  fro  the  mounteyn  into  playn. 
Wel  can  Senek  and  many  philosopher 
Bywaylen  tyme,  more  than  gold  in  cofre. 
For  losse  of  catel  may  recovered  be, 
But  losse  of  tyme  schendeth  us,  quod  he. 
It  wil  nat  come  agayn  withoute  drede, 
Nomore  than  wol  Malkyns  maydenhede,  4450 

Whan  sche  had  lost  it  in  hir  wantownesse. 


1U0 — passeth.     Most  of  the  MSS.  read  wasteth. 

■1150. — Malkyns  mai/denhcde.    This  appears  to  have  been  a  proverbial 
saying,  and  occurs  in  Piers  Ploughman. 


THE  MAX  OF  LAWES  PEOLOGE.         203 

Let  us  nat  mowlen  thus  in  ydelnesse. 

"  Sir  Man  of  Lawe,"  quod  he,  "  so  have  ye  hlisse, 
Telle  us  a  tale  anon,  as  forward  ys. 
Ye  he  submitted  thurgh  your  fre  assent 
To  stonden  in  this  cas  at  my  juggement. 
Acquyteth  yow,  and  holdeth  youre  byheste  ; 
Than  have  ye  doon  your  devour  atte  leste." 

"Host,"  quod  he,  "  depardeux,  I  assent; 
To  breke  forward  is  nat  myn  entent.  4460 

Byheste  is  dette,  and  I  wol  holde  fayn 
Al  my  byhest,  I  can  no  better  sayn. 
For  such  lawe  as  a  man  geveth  another  wight. 
He  schuld  himselve  usen  it  by  right. 
Thus  wol  oure  text :  but  natheles  certeyn 
I  can  right  now  non  other  tale  seyn, 
That  Chaucer,  they  he  can  but  lewedly 
On  metres  and  on  rymyng  craftely, 
Hath  seyd  hem  in  such  Englisch  as  he  can, 
Of  olde  tyme,  as  knoweth  many  man.  4470 

And  gif  he  have  nought  sayd  hem,  leeve  brother, 
In  o  bok,  he  hath  seyd  hem  in  another. 
Fur  he  hath  told  of  lovers  up  and  doun, 
Moo  than  Ovido  made  of  mencioun 
In  his  Epistelles,  that  ben  so  olde. 
What  schuld  I  tellen  hem,  syn  they  be  tolde  ? 
In  youthe  he  made  of  Ceys  and  Alcioun, 


4477. — Ceys  and  Alcioun.      This  story  forms  the  introduction  to  the 


Boke  of  the  Duchesee 


204  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

And  siththe  hath  he  spoke  of  everychon 

These  nohle  wyfes,  and  these  lovers  eeke, 

Who  so  wole  his  large  volume  seeke,  4480 

Cleped  the  seintes  legende  of  Cupide  : 

Ther  may  he  see  the  large  woundes  wyde 

Of  Lucresse,  and  of  Bahiloun  Tysbee  ; 

The  sorwe  of  Dido  for  the  fals  Enee ; 

The  tree  of  Philles  for  liir  Demephon  ; 

The  pleynt  of  Dyane  and  of  Ermyon, 

Of  Adrian,  and  of  Ysyphilee  ; 

The  barreyn  yle  stondyng  in  the  see  ; 

The  dreynt  Leandere  for  his  fayre  Erro ; 

The  teeres  of  Eleyn,  and  eek  the  woo  4-190 

Of  Bryxseyde,  and  of  Ledomia  ; 

The  cruelte  of  the  queen  Medea, 

The  litel  children  hangyng  by  the  hals, 

For  thilke  Jason,  that  was  of  love  so  fals. 

O  Ypermystre,  Penollope,  and  Alceste, 

Youre  wyfhood  he  comendeth  with  the  beste. 

But  certeynly  no  worde  writeth  he 

Of  thilke  wikked  ensample  of  Canace, 

That  loved  hir  owen  brother  synfully ; 


4481. — Legende  of  Cupide.  This  is  the  poem  more  frequently  entitled 
the  Legende  of  good  women. 

4486. — Dyane.  The  MS.  Lansd.  reads  Dianyre,  which  Tyrwhitt 
adopts.     The  readings  are  very  various,  and  not  easy  to  be  reconciled. 

4498. — Canace.  This  and  the  story  of  Apollonius  of  Tyre  are  told  in 
Gower's  Confessio  Amantis,  whence  it  has  been  supposed  that  Chaucer 
intended  here  to  blame  that  writer — a  notion  for  which  there  appears  to 
be  no  good  foundation.  The  story  of  Apollonius  was  very  popular  in  the 
middle  ages,  and  was  published  in  a  variety  of  forms 


THE  MAN  OF  LAWES  TALE.  205 

On  whiche  corsed  stories  I  seye  fy ;  4500 

Or  elles  of  Tyro  Appoloneus, 

How  that  the  cursed  kyng  Anteochus 

By  reft  his  doughter  of  hir  maydenhede, 

That  is  so  horrible  a  tale  for  to  reede, 

Whan  he  hir  threw  upon  the  pament. 

And  therfore  he  of  ful  avysernent 

Wolde  never  wryte  in  non  of  his  sermouns 

Of  such  unkynde  abhominaciouns  ; 

Ne  I  wol  non  reherse,  if  that  I  may. 

But  of  my  tale  how  schal  I  do  this  day?  4510 

Me  were  loth  to  be  lykned  douteles 

To  Muses,  that  men  clepen  Pyerides, 

(Methamorphoseos  wot  what  I  mene) ; 

But  natheles  I  recche  nat  a  bene, 

They  I  come  after  him  with  hawe-bake, 

I  speke  in  prose,  and  let  him  rymes  make." 

And  with  that  word,  he  with  a  sobre  cheere 

Bygan  his  tale,  as  ye  schal  after  heere. 

THE    MAN    OF    LAWES    TALE. 

O  hateful  harm,  condicioun  of  povert,  4519 

With  thurst,  with  cold,  with  honger  so  confoundyd, 


4512. — Pyerides.  "  He  rather  means,  I  think,  the  daughters  of  Pierus, 
who  contended  with  the  Muses,  and  were  changed  into  pies.  Ovid. 
Metain.  1.  v." — Tynvhitt. 

The  Man  of  Lawes  Tale.  This  tale  was  prohably  taken  direct  from  a 
French  llomance.  All  the  incidents  in  it  are  of  frequent  occurence  in 
medieval  stories.  The  whole  story  is  found  in  Gower,  and  a  similar  story 


206  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

To  asken  help  it  schameth  in  thin  hert, 

If  thou  non  aske,  with  neecle  so  art  thou  woundyd, 

That  verray  neede  uirwrappeth  al  thy  wounde  hyd, 

Maugre  thyn  heed  thou  most  for  indigence 

Or  stele,  or  begge,  or  borwe  thy  dispence. 

Thow  blarnest  Crist,  and  seyst  ful  bitterly, 
He  rnysdeparteth  riches  temporal : 
And  thyn  neyhebour  thou  wytes  synfully, 
And  seyst  thou  hast  to  litel,  and  he  hath  al. 
Parfay,  seystow,  som  tyme  he  rekne  schal,  4530 

Whan  that  his  tayl  schal  brennen  in  the  gleede, 
For  he  nought  helpeth  the  needful  in  his  neede. 

Herkneth  what  is  the  sentens  of  the  wyse, 
Bet  is  to  dye  than  have  indigence  ; 
Thy  selve  neyghebour  wol  the  despyse, 
If  thou  be  pore,  farwel  thy  reverence. 
Yet  of  the  wyse  man  tak  this  sentence, 


forms  the  plot  of  the  romance  of  Emare  (printed  in  Ritson's  Metrical 
Romances).  The  treachery  of  king  Alla's  mother,  enters  into  the  French 
romance  of  the  Chevalier  au  eigne,  and  into  the  still  more  ancient  Anglo- 
Saxon  romance  of  king  Offa,  preserved  in  a  Latin  form  by  Matthew  Paris. 
It  is  also  found  in  the  Italian  collection,  said  to  have  been  composed  in 
1378,  under  the  title  of  II  Pecorone  di  ser  Giovanni  Fiorentino  (an  imita- 
tion of  the  Decameron),  gior.  X,  No.  1 .  The  treason  of  the  knight  who 
murders  Hermengilde  is  an  incident  in  the  French  Roman  dela  Violette  ; 
and  in  the  English  metrical  romance  of  Le  bone  Florence  of  Rome 
(printed  in  Ritson's  collection) ;  and  is  found  in  the  English  Gesta  Roma- 
norum,  e.  69,  (ed.  Madden),  joined  in  the  latter  place  with  Constance's 
adventure  with  the  steward.  It  is  also  found  in  Vincent  of  Beauvais,  and 
other  writers.  Gower's  version  appears  to  Vie  taken  from  the  French 
chronicle  of  Nicolas  Trivet,  MS.  Arundel,  No.  56,  fol.  45,  v°. 

4534. — Bet  in  to  dye.     This  saying  of  Solomon  is  quoted  in  the  Roman 
de  la  Rose,  as  cited  by  Tyrwhitt. 

Mieux  vault  mourir  que  pauvres  estre. 


THE  MAN  OF  LAWES  TALE.  207 

Alle  the  dayes  of  pore  men  be  wikke, 

Be  war  therfore  or  thou  come  to  that  prikke. 

If  thou  be  pore,  thy  brother  hateth  the,  4540 

And  alle  thy  frendes  fleeth  fro  the,  alias ! 
O  riche  marchaundz,  ful  of  wele  be  ye, 

0  noble  prudent  folk  as  in  this  cas, 
Youre  bagges  beth  nat  fuld  with  ambes  aas, 

But  with  sys  synk,  that  renneth  on  your  chaunce  ; 
At  Crystemasse  wel  mery  may  ye  daunce. 

Ye  seeke  land  and  see  for  youre  wynnynges, 
As  wyse  folk  as  ye  knowe  alle  thastates 
Of  regnes,  ye  be  fadres  of  tydynges, 
Of  tales,  bothe  of  pees  and  of  debates  :  4550 

1  were  right  now  of  tales  desolat, 

Nere  that  a  marchaunt,  gon  siththen  many  a  yere, 
Me  taught  a  tale,  which  ye  schal  after  heere. 

In  Surrie  dwelled  whilom  a  companye 
Of  chapmen  riche,  and  therto  sad  and  trewe, 
That  wyde  where  sent  her  spycerye, 
Clothes  of  gold,  and  satyn  riche  of  hewe. 
Her  chaffar  was  so  thrifty  and  so  newe, 
That  every  wight  had  deynte  to  chaffare 
With  hem,  and  eek  to  selle  hem  of  here  ware.      45C0 

Now  fel  it,  that  the  maystres  of  that  soil 
Han  schapen  hem  to  Rome  for  to  wende, 
Were  it  for  chapmanhode  or  for  disport, 
Non  other  message  nolde  they  thider  sonde, 
But  came  hemself  to  Rome,  this  is  the  ende: 
And  in  such  place  as  thought  hem  avauntage 


208  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

For  here  entent,  they  tooke  her  herburgage. 

Sojourned  have  these  marchauntz  in  the  toun 
A  certeyn  tyrne,  as  fel  to  here  plesaunce: 
But  so  hifell,  that  thexcellent  renoun  4570 

Of  themperoures  doughter  dame  Custaunce 
Reported  was,  with  every  circumstaunce, 
Unto  these  Surrienz  marchauntz,  in  such  wyse 
Fro  day  to  day,  as  I  schal  you  devyse. 

This  was  the  comyn  voys  of  every  man : 
"  Oure  emperour  of  Rome,  God  liim  see! 
A  doughter  hath,  that,  sith  the  world  bygan, 
To  rekne  as  wel  hir  goodnes  as  hir  bewte, 
Nas  never  such  another  as  was  sche: 
I  prey  to  God  hir  save  and  susteene,  4580 

And  wolde  sche  were  of  al  Europe  the  queene. 

"  In  hire  is  hye  bewte,  withoute  pryde, 
Yowthe,  withoute  grefhed  or  folye : 
To  alle  hire  werkes  vertu  is  hire  gyde ; 
Humblesse  hath  slayne  in  hir  tyrrannye  : 
Sche  is  myrour  of  alle  curtesye, 
Hir  herte  is  verrey  chambre  of  holynesse, 
Hir  hond  mynistre  of  fredom  and  almesse." 

And  al  this  voys  is  soth,  as  God  is  trewe. 
But  now  to  purpos  let  us  turne  agein :  4590 

These  marchantz  have  don  fraught  here  schippes  newe, 
And  whan  they  have  this  blisful  mayde  seyn, 
Home  to  Surrey  be  they  went  agein, 
And  doon  here  needes,  as  they  have  don  yore, 
And  lyven  in  wele,  I  can  you  say  no  more. 


THE    MAN    OF    LAWES    TALK.  209 

Now  fel  it,  that  these  marchauntz  stooden  in  grace 
Of  him  that  was  the  sowdan  of  Surrye : 
For  whan  they  come  fro  eny  straunge  place, 
He  wolde  of  his  benigne  curtesye 
Make  hem  good  chere,  and  busily  aspye  4600 

Tydynges  of  sondiy  regnes,  for  to  lere 
The  wordes  that  they  rnighte  seen  and  heere. 

Among  other  thinges  specially 
These  marchauntz  him  told  of  dame  Constaunce 
So  gret  noblesse,  in  ernest  so  ryally, 
That  this  sowdan  hath  caught  so  gret  plesaunce 
To  have  hir  figure  in  his  remembraunce, 
That  al  his  lust,  and  al  his  besy  cure, 
Was  for  to  love  hir,  whiles  his  lyf  may  dure. 

Paraventure  in  thilke  large  booke,  4610 

Which  that  is  cleped  the  heven,  i-write  was 
With  sterres,  whan  that  he  his  burthe  took, 
That  he  for  love  schulde  have  his  deth,  alias ! 
For  in  the  sterres,  clerere  then  is  glas, 
Is  wryten,  God  woot,  who  so  cowthe  it  rede, 
The  deth  of  every  man,  withouten  drede. 

In  sterres  many  a  wynter  therbyfore, 


4614. — in  the  sterres.  See  before,  1.  2039.  Chaucer  seems  to  have  had  in 
his  eye  in  the  following  stanza  a  passage  of  the  Megacosmus  of  Bernard  us 
Silvestris,  a  rather  popular  Latin  poet  of  the  twelfth  century.  Some  of 
these  lines  are  quoted  in  the  margin  of  MS.  Lansd. 

Praejacet  in  stellis  series,  quam  longioi  retas 

Explicet  et  spatiis  temporis  ordo  suis, 
Sceptra  l'horonei,  fratrum  discordia  Thebis, 

Flamroa  Phaethontis,  Deucalionis  aquse. 
In  stellis  Codri  paupertas,  copia  Oroesi, 


210  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Was  write  the  deth  of  Ector  and  Achilles, 

Of  Pompe,  Julius,  er  they  were  i-hore  ; 

The  stryf  of  Thebes,  and  of  Ercules,  4620 

Of  Sampson,  Turnus,  and  of  Socrates 

The  deth;  but  mennes  wittes  ben  so  dulle, 

That  no  wight  can  wel  rede  it  at  the  fulle. 

This  sowdan  for  his  pryve  counseil  sent, 
And  schortly  of  this  rnater  for  to  pace, 
He  hath  to  hem  declared  his  entent, 
And  seyd  hem  certeyn,  but  he  might  have  grace 
To  have  Constance  withinne  a  litel  space, 
He  nas  but  deed,  and  charged  hem  in  hyghe 
To  schapen  for  his  lyf  som  remedye.  4630 

Dy verse  men  divers  thinges  seyde, 
The  argumentes  casten  up  and  doun ; 
Many  a  subtyl  resoun  forth  they  leyden  ; 
They  spekyn  of  magike,  and  of  abusioun  ; 
But  fynally,  as  in  conclusioun, 
They  can  nought  seen  in  that  non  avauntage, 
Ne  in  non  other  wey,  save  in  mariage. 

Than  sawgh  they  therin  such  difficulte 
By  wey  of  resoun,  to  speke  it  al  playn, 


Incestus  Paridis,  Hippolytique  piulor. 
In  stellis  Priami  species,  audacia  Turni, 

Sensus  Ulyxeus,  Herculeusque  vigor. 
In  stellis  pugil  est  Pollux,  et  navita  Typhis, 

Et  Cicero  rhetor,  et  geometra  Thales. 
In  stellis  lepidum  dictat  Maro,  Milo  figurat, 

Fulgurat  in  Latia  nobilitate  Nero, 
Astra  notat  Persis,  /Egyptus  parturit  artes, 

Gra'cia  docta  legit,  prselia  Romagerit. 


THE    MAN    OF    LAWKS    TALE.  '211 

Bycause  that  ther  was  such  dyverste  4640 

Bitwen  here  hothe  lawes,  as  they  sayn, 

They  trowe  that  "no  cristen  prince  wold  fayn 

Wedden  his  child  under  our  lawe  swete, 

That  us  was  taught  by  Mahoun  oure  prophete." 

And  he  answerde  :  "  Rather  than  I  lese 
Constance,  I  wol  be  cristen  douteles  : 
I  moot  be  heres,  I  may  non  other  cheese, 
I  pray  you  haldeth  your  arguments  in  pees, 
Saveth  my  lyf,  and  beth  nat  recheles. 
Goth,  geteth  hire  that  hath  my  lyf  in  cure,  4650 

For  in  this  wo  I  may  no  lenger  dure." 

What  needeth  gretter  dilatacioun  ? 
I  say,  by  tretys  and  ambassatrye, 
And  by  the  popes  mediacioun, 
And  al  the  chirche,  and  al  the  chyvalrye, 
That  in  destruccioun  of  mawmetrye, 
And  in  encresse  of  Cristes  lawe  deere, 
They  ben  acordid  as  ye  schal  after  heere  ; 

How  that  the  soudan  and  his  baronage, 
And  alle  his  lieges  schuld  i-crystned  be,  4660 

And  he  schal  have  Constance  in  mariage, 
And  certeyn  gold,  I  not  what  quantite, 
And  therfore  founden  they  suffisant  seurte. 
This  same  acord  was  sworn  on  every  syde  ; 
Now,  fair  Constance,  almighty  God  the  guyde  ! 

Now  wolde  som  men  wayten,  as  I  gesse, 
That  I  schulde  tellen  al  the  purvyauuce, 
That  themperour  of  his  gret  noblesse 

p  2 


212  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Hath  schapen  for  his  doughter  dame  Constaunce. 
Wei  may  men  knowe  that  so  gret  ordynaunce      4670 
May  no  man  telle  in  so  litel  a  clause, 
As  was  arrayed  for  so  high  a  cause. 

Bisschops  ben  schapen  with  hir  for  to  wende, 
Lordes,  ladyes,  and  knightes  of  renoun, 
And  other  folk  ynowe,  tliis  is  the  ende. 
And  notefied  is  thurghout  the  toun, 
That  every  wight  with  gret  devocioun 
Schulde  preye  Crist,  that  he  this  mariage 
Receyve  in  gree,  and  spede  this  viage. 

The  day  is  come  of  hire  departyng,  4G8O 

(I  say  the  woful  day  that  than  is  come) 
That  ther  may  be  no  lenger  taryyng, 
But  forthe-ward  they  dresse  hem  alle  and  some. 
Constance,  that  with  sorwe  is  overcome, 
Ful  pale  arist,  and  dresseth  hir  to  wende, 
For  wel  sche  saugh  ther  nas  non  other  ende. 

Alias  !  what  wonder  is  it  though  sche  wepte, 
That  schal  be  sent  to  straunge  nacioun, 
Fro  freendes,  that  so  tenderly  hir  kepte, 
And  to  be  bounde  undur  subjeccioun  4690 

Of  oon  sche  knew  nat  his  condicioun  ? 
Housbondes  ben  al  goode,  and  ban  be  yore ; 
That  knowen  wyfes,  I  dar  say  no  more. 

"  Fader."  sche  seid,  "  thy  wrecched  child  Constaunce, 
Thy  yonge  doughter  fostred  up  so  softe, 
And  ye,  my  mooder,  my  soverayn  plesaimce 
Over  al  thing,  outaken  Crist  on  lofte, 


THE    MAN    OF    LAWES    TALE.  213 

Constaunce  your  child  hir  recomaundeth  ofte 

Unto  your  grace ;  for  I  schal  into  Surrye, 

Ne  schal  I  never  see  you  more  with  ye.  4700 

"  Alias  !  unto  the  Barbre  nacioun 
I  most  anoon,  sethens  it  is  your  wille  : 
But  Crist,  that  starf  for  our  redempciouu, 
So  geve  me  grace  his  hestes  to  fulfille, 
I,  wrecched  wominan,  no  fors  they  I  spille ! 
Wommen  hen  born  to  thraldam  and  penaunce, 
And  to  ben  under  mannes  governaunce." 

I  trowe  at  Troye  whan  Pirrus  brak  the  wal, 
Or  Yleon  that  brend  Thebes  the  citee, 
Ne  at  Rome  for  the  harme  thurgh  Hanibal,  4710 

That  Romayns  hath  venquysshed  tymes  thre, 
Nas  herd  such  tender  wepyng  for  pite, 
As  in  the  chambur  was  for  hir  partyng  : 
But  forth  sche  moot,  whether  sche  weep  or  syng. 

O  firste  mevyng  cruel  firmament, 
With  thi  diurnal  swough  that  crowdest  ay, 
And  hurlest  al  fro  est  to  Occident, 
That  naturelly  wold  hold  another  way ; 
Tliyn  crowdyng  sette  the  heven  in  such  array 
At  the  bygynnyng  of  this  fiers  viage,  4720 

That  cruel  Martz  hath  slayn  this  marriage. 


4715. — firste  mevyng.  The  following  note  is  written  in  the  margin  of 
the  Lansd.  MS.  "  Untie  Tholomcus,  libro  primo,  capitulo  8 :  l'riini 
inotus  cocli  duo  sunt,  quorum  uuus  est  qui  niovet  totuin  semper  ab  oriente 
in  occidentein,  uno  modo  super  orbes,  etc.  Alter  vero  motus  est  qui 
niovet  orbcm  stellarum  currentium  contra  motum  primum,  viz.  ab  occi- 
dente  in  orientein  super  alios  duos  polos,  etc." 


214  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Infortunat  ascendent  tortuous, 
Of  which  the  lordes  helples  falle, -alias ! 
Out  of  his  angle  into  the  derkest  hous. 
O  Mariz  Attezere,  as  in  this  caas  ; 
O  fehle  nioone,  unhappy  been  thi  paas, 
Thou  knettest  the  ther  thou  art  nat  receyved, 
Ther  thou  were  wel  fro  thennes  artow  weyved. 

Inprudent  emperour  of  Rome,  alias  ! 
Was  ther  no  philosopher  in  al  thy  toun  ?  4730 

Is  no  tyme  bet  than  other  in  such  caas  ? 
Of  viage  is  ther  noon  eleccioun, 
Namly  to  folk  of  heigh  condicioun, 
Nought  whan  a  roote  is  of  a  birthe  i-knowe  ? 
Alias !  we  ben  to  lewed,  and  eek  to  slowe. 

To  schippe  is  brought  this  woful  faire  mayde 
Solempnely,  with  every  circumstaunce  : 
"  Now  Jhesu  Crist  so  be  with  you,"  sche  sayde. 
Ther  nys  nomor,  but  farwel,  fair  Custaunce ; 
Sche  peyneth  hire  to  make  good  contienaunce.      4740 
And  forth  I  lete  hire  sayle  in  this  manere, 
And  tome  I  wol  agein  to  my  matiere. 


4725. — O  Mariz  Attezere.  The  readings  of  the  MSS.  vary  much. 
Tyrwlritt  reads  O  Mars,  O  Atyzar.  I  have  followed  the  Harl.  MS.  It 
would  require  a  deeper  knowledge  of  medieval  astrology  than  I  possess, 
to  correct  it  with  any  certainty,  or  to  determine  if  it  need  correction. 

4732. — eleccioun.  The  marginal  note  in  the  Lansd.  MS  quoted  above, 
adds,  "  Omnes  enim  sunt  concordati  quod  electioues  sint  debiles,  nisi 
in  divitibus;  habent  enim  isti,  licet  debilitentur  eorum  electiones,  radicem, 
i.  e.  nativitates  eorum  quae  confortant  omnem  planetam  debilem  in  itinere: 
ha;c  philosophus."  Tyrwhitt  gives  this  from  another  MS.  It  is  taken 
from  the  Liber  electionum  of  Zahel,  of  which  there  is  a  copy  in  MS.  Harl. 
No.  80.     The  above  passage  occurs  at  fol.  68,  v°- 


THE    MAN    OF    LAWES    TALE.  215 

The  moder  of  the  sowdan,  ful  of  vices, 
Aspyed  hath  hir  sones  playn  entente, 
How  he  wol  lete  his  olde  sacrifices  : 
And  right  anoon  sche  for  hir  counseil  sent, 
And  they  hen  come,  to  knowe  what  sche  ment ; 
And  whan  assembled  was  this  folk  in  fere, 
Sche  sette  hir  doun,  and  sayd  as  ye  schal  heere. 

"  Lordes,"  quod  sche,  "ye  knowen  everichon,  4750 
How  that  my  sone  in  poynt  is  for  to  lete 
The  holy  lawes  of  oure  Alkaroun, 
Geven  by  Goddes  messangere  Makamete : 
But  oon  avow  to  grete  God  I  hete, 
The  lyf  sehuld  rather  out  of  my  body  stert, 
Or  Makametes  law  go  out  of  myn  hert. 

"  What  schal  us  tyden  of  tins  newe  lawe 
But  thraldam  to  oure  body  and  penaunce, 
And  afterward  in  belle  to  be  drawe, 
For  we  reneyed  Mahound  oure  creaunce  ?  4760 

But,  lordes,  wol  ye  maken  assuraunce, 
As  I  schal  say,  assentyng  to  my  lore? 
And  I  schal  make  us  sauf  for  evermore." 

They  sworen  and  assenten  every  man 
To  lyf  with  hir  and  dye,  and  by  hir  stonde : 
And  everich  in  the  beste  wise  he  can 
To  strengthen  hir  schal  al  his  frendes  fondc. 


4752. — Alkaroun.  The  Koran  was  translated  into  Latin  in  die 
twelfth  century,  anil  it,  and  the  history  of  its  author,  Mohammed,  were 
Subjects  of  interest  in  lie    West 


210  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

And  sche  hath  emperise  take  on  honde. 

Which  ye  schul  heere  that  I  schal  devyse, 

And  to  hem  alle  sche  spak  in  this  wyse.  4770 

"  We  schul  first  feyne  ous  cristendom  to  take ; 
Cold  watir  schal  nat  greve  us  hut  a  lite  : 
And  I  schal  such  a  fest  and  revel  make, 
That,  as  I  trow,  I  schal  the  sowdan  quyte. 
For  though  his  wyf  he  cristned  never  so  white, 
Sche  schal  have  need  to  waissche  away  the  rede, 
They  sche  a  font  of  watir  with  hir  lede." 

O  sowdones,  root  of  iniquite, 
Virago  thou  Semyram  the  secounde, 
O  serpent  under  feminite,  4780 

Lyk  to  the  serpent  deep  in  helle  i-hounde  : 
O  feyned  womman,  alle  that  may  confounde 
Vertu  and  innocence,  thurgh  thy  malice, 
Is  hred  in  the,  as  nest  of  every  vice. 

O  Satan  envyous,  syn  thilke  day 
That  thou  were  chased  fro  oure  heritage, 
Wei  knewest  thou  to  wommen  the  olde  way. 
Thou  madest  Eve  to  hryng  us  in  servage, 
Thou  wolt  fordoon  this  cristen  manage  : 
Thyn  instrument  so  (weylaway  the  while !)  4790 

Makestow  of  wommen  whan  thou  wolt  bygyle. 

This  sowdones,  whom  I  thus  blame  and  wary, 
Let  prively  hir  counseil  gon  his  way : 
What  schuld  I  in  this  tale  lenger  tary  ? 
Sche  rideth  to  the  soudan  on  a  day, 
And  seyd  him,  that  sche  wold  reney  hir  lay, 


THE    MAN    OF    LAWES    TALE.  217 

And  cristendam  of  prestes  handes  fonge, 
Repentyng  hir  sche  liethen  was  so  longe; 

Bysechyng  him  to  doon  hir  that  honour, 
That  sche  most  have  the  cristen  men  to  feste  :     4800 
'  To  plesen  hem  I  wil  do  my  labour." 
The  sowdan  seith,  "I  wol  do  at  your  heste," 
And  knelyng,  thanketh  hir  of  that  requeste  ; 
So  glad  he  was,  he  nyst  nat  what  to  seye. 
Sche  kyst  hir  sone,  and  horn  sche  goth  hir  weye. 

Arryved  ben  the  cristen  folk  to  londe 
In  Surry,  with  a  gret  solempne  route, 
And  hastily  this  sowdan  sent  his  sonde, 
First  to  his  moder,  and  al  the  regne  aboute,         4810 
And  seyd,  his  wyf  was  comen  out  of  doute, 
And  preyeth  hir  for  to  ride  agein  the  queene, 
The  honour  of  his  regne  to  susteene. 

Gret  was  the  prees,  and  riche  was  tharray 
Of  Surriens  and  Romayns  mette  in  feere. 
The  mooder  of  the  sowdan  riche  and  gay 
Receyved  hir  with  al  so  glad  a  cheere, 
As  eny  mooder  might  hir  doughter  deere : 
And  to  the  nexte  citee  ther  bysyde 
A  softe  paas  solempnely  thay  ryde. 

Nought  trow  I  the  triumphe  of  Julius,  4820 

Of  which  that  Lukan  maketh  moche  bost, 
Was  ryaller,  ne  more  curious, 
Than  was  thassemble  of  this  blisful  oost : 
But  this  scorpioun,  this  wikked  goost, 
The  sowdones,  for  al  hir  tlateryng. 


218  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Cast  under  this  ful  mortally  to  styng. 

The  sowdan  comth  himself  sone  after  this 
So  really,  that  wonder  is  to  telle  : 
And  welcometh  hir  with  al  joy  and  blys. 
And  thus  with  mirth  and  joy  I  let  hem  dwelle.    4830 
The  fruyt  of  this  ma  tier  is  that  I  telle. 
Whan  tyme  com,  men  thought  it  for  the  best 
That  revel  stynt,  and  men  goon  to  her  rest. 

The  tyme  com,  the  olde  sowdonesse 
Ordeyned  hath  this  fest  of  which  I  told  ; 
And  to  the  feste  cristen  folk  hem  dresse 
In  general,  bothe  yong  and  old. 
Ther  men  may  fest  and  realte  byholde, 
And  deyntes  mo  than  I  can  of  devyse, 
But  al  to  deere  they  bought  it  ar  they  ryse.  4840 

0  sodeyn  wo  !  that  ever  art  successour 
To  worldly  blis,  spreynd  is  with  bitternesse 
The  ende  of  oure  joye,  of  oure  worldly  labour: 
Wo  occupieth  the  fyn  of  oure  gladnesse 
Herken  this  counseil  for  thyn  sikernesse  : 
Upon  thyn  glade  dayes  have  in  tlii  mynde 
The  unwar  woo  that  cometh  ay  bihynde. 

For  schortly  for  to  tellen  at  o  word, 


•1817. — unwar  woo.  This  is  a  good  example  of  the  manner  in  which 
corruptions  of  the  text  gain  ground.  Some  one  had  apparently  given  or 
harm,  as  a  marginal  gloss  to  woo  ;  another  scribe  copied  this  into  the  text, 
and  some  MSS.  (as  the  Lansd.  MS  and  one  of  the  Cambridge  MSS.)have 
unwar  wo  or  harme.  This  was  again  altered  to  make  apparent  sense,  and 
Tyrwhitt  has  the  line, — 

The  unware  wo  of  harm,  I  hat  cometh  behinde. 


THE  MAN  OF  LA  WES  TALE.  219 

The  sowdan  and  the  cristen  everichone 

Ben  al  to-hewe  and  stiked  atte  bord,  4850 

But  it  were  dame  Constaunce  allone. 

This  olde  sowdones,  this  cursed  crone, 

Hath  with  hir  frendes  doon  this  cursed  dede, 

For  sche  hirself  wold  al  the  contre  lede. 

Ne  ther  was  Surrien  noon  that  was  converted, 
That  of  the  counseil  of  the  sowdon  woot, 
That  he  nas  al  to-hewe  or  he  asterted; 
And  Constaunce  have  they  take  anon  foot-hoot, 
And  in  a  schippe,  stereles,  God  it  woot, 
They  have  hir  set,  and  bad  hir  lerne  to  sayle       4860 
Out  of  Surry  agein-ward  to  Ytaile. 

A  certein  tresour  that  sche  thider  ladde, 
And,  soth  to  sayn,  vitaile  gret  plente, 
They  have  hir  geven,  and  clothes  eek  sche  hadde, 
And  forth  sche  sayleth  in  the  salte  see. 
0  my  Constaunce,  ful  of  benignite, 
0  emperoures  yonge  doughter  deere, 
He  that  is  lord  of  fortun  be  thi  steere ! 

Sche  blesseth  hir,  and  with  ful  pitous  voys 
Unto  the  croys  of  Crist  than  seyde  sche  :  4870 

;  O  cler,  O  welful  auter,  holy  croys, 
Red  of  the  lambes  blood,  ful  of  pite, 
That  wissh  the  world  fro  old  iniquite, 
Me  fro  the  feend  and  fro  his  clowes  keepe, 
That  day  that  1  schal  drenches  in  the  deep* . 

"  Victorious  tre,  proteccioun  of  trewe, 
Thai  oonly  were  worthy  for  to  bere 


220  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

The  kyng  of  heven,  with  his  woundes  newe, 

The  white  lamb,  that  hurt  was  with  a  spere ; 

Flemer  of  feendes,  out  of  him  and  here  4880 

On  which  thy  lymes  feithfully  extenden, 

Me  kepe,  and  gif  me  might  my  lyf  to  menden." 

Yeres  and  dayes  flette  this  creature 
Thurghout  the  see  of  Grece,  into  the  strayte 
Of  Marrok,  as  it  was  hir  adventure : 
O  many  a  soiy  mele  may  sche  bayte, 
After  hir  deth  ful  ofte  may  sche  wayte, 
Or  that  the  wilde  wawe  wol  hir  dryve 
Unto  the  place  ther  as  sche  schal  arryve. 

Men  mighten  aske,  why  sche  was  nought  slayn  ? 
Ek  at  the  fest  who  might  hir  body  save?  4891 

And  I  answer  to  that  demaunde  agayn, 
Who  saved  Daniel  in  thorrible  cave, 
That  every  wight,  sauf  he,  mayster  or  knave, 
Was  with  the  lioun  frete,  or  he  asterte? 
No  wigbt  but  God,  that  he  bar  in  his  herte. 

God  lust  to  schewe  his  wondurful  miracle 
In  hir,  for  we  schuld  seen  his  mighty  werkes : 
Crist,  which  that  is  to  every  harm  triacle, 
By  certeyn  menes  ofte,  as  knowen  clerkes,  4900 

Doth  thing  for  certeyn  ende,  that  ful  derk  is 
To  marines  witt,  that  for  our  ignoraimce 
Ne  can  nought  knowe  his  prudent  purvyaunce. 

Now  sith  sche  was  nat  at  the  fest  i-slawe, 
Who  kepte  hir  fro  drenching  in  the  see  ? 
Who  kepte  Jonas  in  the  fisches  mawe, 


THE    MAN    OF    LAWES    TALE.  221 

Til  he  was  spouted  up  at  Ninive  ? 
Wei  may  men  knowe,  it  was  no  wight  but  he 
That  kept  the  pepul  Ebrayk  fro  her  drenchyng, 
With  drye  feet  thurghout  the  see  passyng.  4910 

Who  badde  foure  spiritz  of  tempest, 
That  power  han  to  noyen  land  and  see, 
Bothe  north  and  south,  and  also  west  and  est, 
Anoyen  neyther  londe,  see,  ne  tree  ? 
Sothly  the  comaunder  of  that  was  he 
That  fro  the  tempest  ay  this  womman  kepte, 
As  wel  when  sche  awok  as  when  sche  slepte. 

Wher  might  this  womman  mete  and  drinke  have? 
Thre  yer  and  more,  how  lasteth  hir  vitaille  ? 
Who  fedde  the  Egipcien  Marie  in  the  cave,  4920 

Or  in  desert?  no  wight  but  Crist  saunz  faile. 
Fyf  thousand  folk  it  was  a  gret  mervaile 
With  loves  fyf  and  fissches  tuo  to  feede : 
God  sent  his  foysoun  at  her  grete  neede. 

Sche  dryveth  forth  into  oure  occean 
Thurghout  oure  wilde  see,  til  atte  last 
Under  an  holte,  that  nempnen  I  ne  can, 
Fer  in  Northumberland,  the  wawe  hir  cast, 
And  in  the  sand  the  schip  styked  so  fast, 
That  thennes  wold  it  nought  in  al  a  tyde :  4930 

The  wille  of  Crist  was  that  sche  schold  abyde. 

The  constabil  of  the  castel  doun  is  fare 
To  se  this  wrak,  and  al  the  schip  he  sought, 

4927. — that  nempnen  I  ne  can.     The  MS.  reuds  that  men  nempne  can. 


'2-2-2  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES, 

And  fond  this  wery  womman  ful  of  care ; 
He  fand  also  the  tresour  that  sche  brought ; 
In  hir  langage  mercy  sche  bisought, 
The  lif  out  of  hir  body  for  to  twynne, 
Hir  to  delyver  of  woo  that  sche  was  inne. 

A  maner  Latyn  corupt  was  hir  spec-he, 
But  algates  therby  sche  was  understonde.  4940 

The  constabil,  whan  him  lust  no  lenger  seche, 
This  woful  womman  broughte  he  to  londe. 
Sche  kneleth  doun,  and  thanketh  Goddes  sonde ; 
But  what  sche  was,  sche  wolde  no  man  seye 
For  foul  ne  faire,  though  sche  scholde  deye. 

Sche  was,  sche  seyd,  so  mased  in  the  see, 
That  sche  forgat  hir  mynde,  by  hire  trowthc. 
The  constable  had  of  hir  so  gret  pitee, 
And  eek  his  wyf,  they  wepeden  for  routhe : 
Sche  was  so  diligent  withouten  slouthe  4950 

To  serve  and  plese  ever  in  that  place, 
That  alle  hir  loven  that  loken  on  hir  face. 

The  constable  and  dame  Hermegyld  his  wyf, 
To  telle  you  playne,  payenes  bothe  were ; 
But  Hermegyld  loved  Constance  as  hirlyf; 
And  Constance  hath  so  long  herberwed  there 


4939. — a  maner  Latyn  corupt.  In  the  romance  of  Fulke  fitz  Warine, 
(p.  91),  where  a  pretended  merchant  from  the  East  comes  to  London,  we 
are  told, — "  Et  quanqu'il  parla  fust  Latyn  corupt ;  mes  le  nieir  le  en- 
tendy  bien." 

4954. — Tyrwhitt  gives  (from  other  MSS.)  instead  of  this  line, — 
Wert  payenes,  and  that  contrce  every  wher. 
The  Harl.  MS.  has  in  peynes  for  payenes. 


THE    MAN    OF    LAWES    TALE.  223 

Iu  orisoun,  with  many  a  bitter  teere, 

Til  Jliesu  hath  converted  thurgh  his  grace 

Dame  Hermegyld,  the  constables  of  the  place. 

In  al  the  lond  no  cristen  men  durst  route ;       4960 
Al  cristen  men  ben  fled  from  that  contre 
Thurgh  payens,  that  conquered  al  aboute 
The  places  of  the  north  by  land  and  see. 
To  Wales  fled  the  cristianite 
Of  olde  Britouns,  dwellyng  in  this  yle  ; 
Ther  was  hir  refut  for  the  mene  while. 

But  yit  nere  cristen  Britouns  so  exiled, 
That  ther  nere  some  in  here  pryvite 
Honoured  Crist,  and  hethen  folk  bygiled; 
And  neigh  the  castel  such  ther  dwellid  thre :        4970 
That  oon  of  hem  was  blynd,  and  might  nat  se, 
But  if  it  were  with  eyen  of  his  mynde, 
With  which  men  seen  after  that  they  ben  blynde. 

Bright  was  the  sonne,  as  in  someres  day, 
For  which  the  constable  and  his  wif  also 
And  Constaunce  had  take  the  righte  way 
Toward  the  see,  a  forlong  wey  or  two, 
To  pleyen,  and  to  romen  to  and  fro ; 
And  in  that  walk  this  blynde  man  they  mette, 
Croked  and  olde,  with  eyen  fast  y-schette.  4980 

"  In  name  of  Crist,"  cryed  this  old  Britoun, 
;  Dame  Hermegyld,  gif  me  my  sight  ageyn!" 
This  lady  wax  affrayed  of  the  soun, 
Lest  that  hir  houseband,  schortly  to  sayn, 
Wold  hir  for  .lliesu  Cristes  love  have  slayn, 


224  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Til  Constaunce  made  hir  bold,  and  bad  hir  werche 

The  wil  of  Crist,  as  doughter  of  holy  chirche. 

The  constable  wax  abaisshed  of  that  sight, 
And  sayde,  "What  amounteth  al  this  fare?" 
Constaunce  answered,  "  Sir,  it  is  Cristes  might,  4990 
That  helpeth  folk  out  of  the  feendes  snare." 
And  so  ferforth  sche  gan  hir  lay  declare, 
That  sche  the  constable,  er  that  it  was  eve, 
Converted,  and  on  Crist  made  him  bileve. 

This  constable  was  not  lord  of  the  place 
Of  winch  I  speke,  ther  he  Constance  fond, 
But  kept  it  strongly  many  a  wynter  space 
Under  Alia,  kyng  of  Northumberlond, 
That  was  ful  wys,  and  worthy  of  his  hond, 
Agein  the  Scottes,  as  men  may  wel  heere.  5000 

But  tourne  agein  I  wil  to  my  mateere. 

Satan,  that  ever  us  wayteth  to  begile, 
Sawe  of  Constaunce  al  hir  perfeccioun, 
And  cast  anoon  how  he  might  quyt  hir  while ; 
And  made  a  yong  knight,  that  dwelt  in  the  toun, 
Love  hir  so  hoot  of  foul  affeccioun, 
That  verrayly  him  thought  he  schulde  spille, 
But  he  of  hire  oones  had  his  wille. 

He  wo  with  hir,  but  it  avayleth  nought, 
Sche  wolde  do  no  synne  by  no  weye;  5010 

And  for  despyt,  he  compassed  in  his  thought 
To  maken  hir  a  schamful  deth  to  deye. 
He  wayteth  whan  the  constable  was  aweye, 
And  pryvyly  upon  a  nyght  he  crepte 


THE  MAN  OF  LAWES  TALE.  225 

In  Hermyngyldes  chambre  whil  sche  slepte. 

Weiy,  for-waked  in  here  orisoun, 
Slepeth  Constaunce,  and  Hermyngyld  also. 
Tins  knight,  thurgh  Satanas  temptacioun, 
Al  softely  is  to  the  bed  y-go, 

And  kutte  the  throte  of  Hennegild  a-two,  5020 

And  leyd  the  bloody  knyf  by  dame  Constaunce, 
And  went  his  way,  ther  God  geve  him  meschaunce. 

Sone  after  comth  this  constable  hom  agayn, 
And  eek  Alia,  that  kyng  was  of  that  lond, 
And  say  his  wyf  dispitously  i-slayn, 
For  which  ful  oft  he  wept  and  wrong  his  hond ; 
And  in  the  bed  the  blody  knyf  he  fond 
By  dame  Custaunce  :    alias  !  what  might  she  say  ? 
For  verray  woo  hir  witt  was  al  away. 

To  king  Alia  was  told  al  this  meschaunce,        5030 
And  eek  the  tyme,  and  wher,  and  in  what  wyse 
That  in  a  schip  was  founden  this  Constaunce, 
As  here  bifore  ye  have  herd  me  devyse: 
The  kmges  hert  of  pite  gan  agrise, 
Whan  he  saugh  so  benigne  a  creature 
Falle  in  disese  and  in  mysaventure. 

For  as  the  lomb  toward  his  deth  is  brought, 


5015. —  Hermyngyldes.  The  orthography  of  the  name  varies  in 
different  MSS.  MS.  Lansd.  has  Ermenilda:  the  two  Cambridge  MSS. 
used  by  me  have,  one,  Hermenchildes,  the  other  Herme?igilde  It  is  the 
Saxon  Eormcmjild,  which  was  the  name  of  one  of  the  daughters  of 
Earconbehrt,  king  of  Kent.  See  Florence  of  Worcester.  Perhaps  this 
romance  existed  in  a  Teutonic  or  even  Anglo-Saxon  original. 


22(5  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

So  stant  this  innocent  bifore  the  kyng: 
This  false  knight,  that  hath  this  tresoun  wrought, 
Bereth  hir  an  hand  that  sche  hath  don  this  thing :  5040 
But  nevertheles  ther  was  gret  munnuryng 
Among  the  poeple,  and  seyn  they  can  not  gesse 
That  sche  had  doon  so  gret  a  wikkednesse. 

For  they  han  seven  hir  so  vertuous, 
And  lovyng  Hermegyld  right  as  hir  lyf : 
Of  this  bar  witnesse  everich  in  that  hous, 
Save  he  that  Hermegyld  slowgh  with  his  knyf. 
This  gentil  kyng  hath  caught  a  gret  motyf 
Of  his  witnesse,  and  thought  he  wold  enquere 
Depper  in  this  cas,  a  trouthe  to  lere.  5050 

Alias  !   Constaunce,  thou  ne  has  no  champioun, 
Ne  fighte  canstow  nat,  so  welaway  ! 
But  he  that  for  oure  redempcioun 
Bonde  Sathan,  and  yit  lith  ther  he  lay, 
So  be  thy  stronge  champioun  this  day  : 
For  but  Crist  upon  the  miracle  kythe, 
Withouten  gilt  thou  schalt  be  slayn  as  swithe. 

Sche  set  hir  doun  on  knees,  and  than  sche  sayde, 
"  Immortal  God,  that  savedest  Susanne 
Fro  false  blame  ;    and  thou,  mercyful  mayde,        5060 
Mary  I  mene,  doughter  of  seint  Anne, 
Bifore  whos  child  aungeles  syng  Osaune  ; 
If  I  be  gultles  of  this  felonye, 
My  socour  be,  for  elles  schal  I  dye!" 

Have  ye  not  seye  som  tyme  a  pale  face, 
Among  a  prees,  of  him  that  hath  be  lad 


THE    MAX    OF    LAWES    TALE.  227 

Toward  his  deth,  wher  him  geyneth  no  grace, 
And  such  a  colour  in  his  face  hath  had, 
Men  mighte  knowe  his  face  was  so  bystad, 
Among  alle  the  faces  in  that  route  ;  5070 

So  stant  Constance,  and  loketh  hire  aboute. 

0  queenes  lyvyng  in  prosperity , 
Duchesses,  and  ye  ladies  every chon, 
Haveth  som  reuthe  on  hir  adversite  ; 
An  emperoures  doughter  stond  allon  ; 
Sche  nath  no  wight  to  whom  to  make  hir  moon ; 
0  blod  ryal,  that  stondest  in  this  drede, 
Ferre  be  thy  frendes  at  thy  grete  neede ! 

This  Alia  kyng  hath  such  compassioun, 
As  gentil  hert  is  fulfild  of  pite,  5080 

That  from  his  eyen  ran  the  water  doun. 

"  Now  hastily  do  fech  a  book,"  quod  he  ; 

"  And  if  this  knight  wil  swere  how  that  sche 
This  womman  slowgh,  yet  wol  we  us  avyse, 
Whom  that  we  wille  schal  be  oure  justise." 
A  Britoun  book,  i- write  with  Evaungiles, 
Was  fette,  and  on  this  book  he  swor  anoon 
Sche  gultif  was ;  and  in  the  mene  whiles 
An  hond  him  smot  upon  the  nekke  boon, 
That  doun  he  fel  anon  right  as  a  stoon  :  5090 

And  bothe  his  yen  brast  out  of  his  face, 
In  sight  of  every  body  in  that  place. 


50C7. — him  geyneth.     Some  of  the   MSS.   Lave  him  geteth.     Him,  in 
cases  like  tliis,  answers  to  the  Latin  dative  sibil  he  gaineth  for  himself. 

q2 


228  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

A  vois  was  herd,  in  general  audience, 
And  seid,  "  Thou  hast  disclaundred  gulteles 
The  doughter  of  holy  chirche  in  hire  presence  ; 
Thus  hastow  doon,  and  yit  I  holde  my  pees." 
Of  this  mervaile  agast  -was  al  the  prees, 
As  mased  folk  they  stooden  everychon 
For  drede  of  wreche,  save  Custaunce  allon. 

Gret  was  the  drede  and  eek  the  repentaunce    5ioo 
Of  hem  that  hadden  wrong  suspeccioun 
Upon  the  sely  innocent  Custaunce  ; 
And  for  this  miracle,  in  conclusioun, 
And  by  Custaunces  mediacioun, 
The  kyng,  and  many  other  in  the  place, 
Converted  was,  thanked  be  Cristes  grace  ! 

This  false  knight  was  slayn  for  his  imtrouthe 
By  juggement  of  Alia  hastyly  ; 
And  yit  Custaunce  hath  of  his  deth  gret  routhe. 
And  after  this  Jhesus  of  liis  mercy  5110 

Made  Alia  wedde  ful  solempnely 
This  holy  mayde,  that  is  bright  and  schene, 
And  thus  hath  Crist  i-maad  Constance  a  queene. 

But  who  was  woful,  if  I  schal  not  lye, 
Of  this  weddyng  but  Domegild  and  no  mo, 
The  kynges  mooder,  ful  of  tyrannye  ? 
Hir  thought  hir  cursed  herte  brast  a-two  ; 
Sche  wolde  nat  hir  sone  had  i-do  so ; 
Hir  thought  despyte,  that  he  schulde  take 
So  straunge  a  creature  unto  his  make.  5120 

Me  lust  not  of  the  caf  ne  of  the  stree 


THE    MAN    OF    LAWES    TALE.  229 

Make  so  long  a  tale,  as  of  the  corn. 

What  schulcl  I  telle  of  the  realte 

Of  this  manage,  or  which  conrs  goth  biforn, 

Who  bloweth  in  a  trompe  or  in  an  horn  ? 

The  fruyt  of  every  tale  is  for  to  seye  ; 

They  ete  and  drynk,  and  daunce,  and  synge,  and  pleye. 

They  gon  to  bed,  as  it  was  skile  and  right ; 
For  though  that  wyfes  ben  ful  holy  thinges, 
They  nioste  take  in  pacience  a-night  5130 

Such  maner  necessaries,  as  ben  plesynges 
To  folk  that  ban  i-wedded  hem  with  rynges, 
And  halvendel  her  holynesse  ley  aside 
As  for  the  tyme,  it  may  non  other  betyde. 

On  hire  he  gat  a  knave  child  anoon, 
And  to  a  bisschope,  and  to  his  constable  eeke, 
He  took  his  wyf  to  kepe,  whan  he  is  goon 
To  Scotlond-ward,  his  foomen  for  to  seeke. 
Now  faire  Custaimce,  that  is  so  humble  and  meeke, 
So  long  is  goon  with  childe  til  that  stille  5140 

Sche  held  hir  chambre,  abidyng  Goddes  wille. 

The  tyme  is  come,  a  knave  child  sche  here : 
Mauricius  atte  funtstone  men  him  calle. 
This  constabil  doth  come  forth  a  messager, 
And  wrot  to  his  kyng  that  cleped  was  Alle, 
How  that  this  blisful  tydyng  is  bifalle, 
Ami  other  thinges  spedful  fur  to  seye. 
lie  taketh  the  lettre,  and  forth  he  goth  his  weye. 


"il  13. — Mauritius.    The  MS.  Harl.  roads  Mauri  us,  by  an  error  of  the 
scribe. 


'2S0  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

This  messanger,  to  doon  his  avauntage, 
Unto  the  kynges  moder  he  goth  ful  swithe,  51'50 

And  salueth  hire  fair  in  his  langage. 
"Madame,"  quod  he,  "ye  may  be  glad  and  blithe, 
And  thanke  God  an  hundred  thousand  sithe ; 
My  lady  queen  hath  child,  withouten  doute, 
To  joye  and  blis  of  al  the  reame  aboute. 

"  Lo  beer  the  lettres  sealed  of  this  thing, 
That  I  mot  here  with  al  the  hast  I  may : 
If  ye  wole  ought  unto  youre  sone  the  kyng, 
I  am  youre  servaunt  bothe  night  and  day." 
Doungyld  answerde,  "As  now  this  tyme,  nay  :      51 60 
But  here  al  nyght  I  wol  thou  take  thy  rest, 
To  morwen  I  wil  say  the  what  me  lest." 

This  messanger  drank  sadly  ale  and  wyn, 
And  stolen  were  his  lettres  pryvely 
Out  of  his  box,  whil  he  sleep  as  a  swyn ; 
And  countrefeet  they  were  subtily  ; 
Another  sche  him  wroot  ful  synfully, 
Unto  the  kyng  direct  of  this  matiere 
Fro  his  constable,  as  ye  schul  after  heere. 

The  lettre  spak,  the  queen  delyvered  was  5170 

Of  so  orryble  and  feendly  creature, 
That  in  the  castel  noon  so  hardy  was 
That  eny  while  dorste  therin  endure  : 
The  mooder  was  an  elf  by  aventure 
Bycome  by  charmes  or  by  sorcerie, 
And  every  man  hatith  liir  companye. 

Wo  was  this  kyng  whan  he  this  letter  had  sein, 
But  to  no  wight  he  told  his  sorwes  sore, 


THE    MAN    OF    LAWE8    TALE.  231 

But  of  his  owen  hand  he  wrot  agayn ; 
"  Welcome  the  sond  of  Crist  for  everemore  5180 

To  me,  that  am  now  lerned  in  this  lore  : 
Lord,  welcome  he  thy  lust  and  thy  pleasaunce ! 
My  lust  I  putte  al  in  thyn  ordinaunce. 

"  Kepeth  this  child,  al  be  it  foul  or  fair, 
And  eek  my  wyf,  unto  myn  horn  comyng : 
Crist  whan  him  lust  may  sende  me  an  hair 
More  agreahle  than  this  to  my  likyng." 
This  lettre  he  seleth,  pryvyly  wepyng, 
Which  to  the  messager  he  took  ful  sone, 
And  forth  he  goth,  ther  nys  no  more  to  done.       5190 

O  messager,  fulfild  of  dronkenesse, 
Strong  is  thy  breth,  thy  lymes  faltren  ay, 
And  thou  hywreyest  alle  sykernesse ; 
Thy  mynde  is  lorn,  thou  janglest  as  a  jay  ; 
Thy  face  is  torned  al  in  a  newe  array  ; 
Ther  drunkenesse  regneth  in  eny  route, 
Ther  is  no  counseil  hid  withouten  doute. 

O  Domegyld,  I  have  non  Englisch  digne 
Unto  thy  malice  and  thy  tyrannye  : 
And  therfor  to  the  feend  I  the  resigne,  5200 

Let  him  endyten  of  thi  treccherie. 
Fy,  mannyssch,  fy  ! — o  nay,  by  God,  I  lye ; 
Fy,  feendly  spirit,  for  I  dar  wel  telle, 
Though  thou  here  walke,  thy  spirit  is  in  helle. 

This  messanger  comth  fro  the  kyng  agayn, 
And  at  the  kinges  modres  courl  he  light, 
And  sche  was  of  this  messenger  ful  fayn, 


~-'i-^  THE    CANTERBURY     1'ALES. 

And  pleseth  him  in  al  that  ever  sehe  might. 

He  drank,  and  wel  his  gurdel  underpight ; 

He  slepeth,  and  he  fareth  in  his  gyse  5210 

Al  nyght,  unto  the  sonne  gan  arise. 

Eft  were  his  lettres  stolen  everichon, 
And  coimtrefeted  lettres  in  this  wise : 
"  The  kyng  comaundeth  liis  constable  anon 
Up  peyne  of  hangyng  and  of  heigh  justise, 
That  he  ne  schulde  suffre  in  no  maner  wyse 
Constaunce  in  his  regne  for  to  abyde 
Thre  dayes,  and  a  quarter  of  a  tyde  ; 

"  But  in  the  same  schip  as  he  hir  fond, 
Hire  and  hir  yonge  sone,  and  al  hire  gere,  5220 

He  schulde  putte,  and  crowde  fro  the  londe, 
And  charge  hire,  that  sche  never  eft  come  there." 
O  my  Constaunce,  wel  may  thy  goost  have  fere, 
And  slepyng  in  thy  drem  ben  in  penaunce, 
Whan  Domegel  cast  al  this  ordynaimce. 

This  messanger  a-morwe,  whan  he  awook, 
Unto  the  castel  held  the  nexte  way ; 
And  to  the  constable  he  the  lettre  took  ; 
And  whan  that  he  the  pitous  lettre  say, 
Ful  ofte  he  seyd  alias  and  welaway ;  5230 

"  Lord  Crist,"  quod  he,  "  how  may  this  world  endure  '.' 
So  ful  of  synne  is  many  a  creature! 

"  0  mighty  God,  if  that  it  be  thy  wille, 
Seth  thou  art  rightful  jugge,  how  may  this  be 
That  thou  wolt  suffre  innocentz  to  spille, 
And  wikked  folk  regne  in  prosperite  ? 


THE    WAN    OF    LAWKS    TALE.  Si33 

O  good  Constance,  alias  !  so  wo  is  me, 
That  I  moot  be  thy  tormentour,  or  deye 
On  schamful  deth,  ther  is  non  other  weye." 

Wepen  bothe  yong  and  olde  in  al  that  place,     5240 
Whan  that  the  kyng  this  corsed  lettre  sent : 
And  Constance  with  a  dedly  pale  face 
The  fayre  day  toward  hir  schip  sche  weut : 
But  nevertheles  sche  taketh  in  good  entent 
The  wil  of  Christ,  and  knelyng  on  the  grounde 
Sche  sayde,  "  Lord,  ay  welcome  be  thy  sonde  ! 

"  He  that  me  kepte  fro  the  false  blame, 
Whil  I  was  on  the  lond  amonges  you, 
He  can  me  kepe  from  harm  and  eek  fro  schame 
In  the  salt  see,  although  I  se  nat  how  :  5250 

As  strong  as  ever  he  was,  he  is  right  now, 
In  him  trust  I,  and  in  his  mooder  deere, 
That  is  to  me  my  sayl  and  eek  my  steere." 

Hir  litel  child  lay  wepyng  in  hir  arm, 
And  knelyng  pitously  to  him  sche  sayde  : 
'  Pees,  litel  sone,  I  wol  do  the  noon  harm." 
With  that  hir  kerchef  of  hir  hed  sche  brayde, 
And  over  his  litel  yghen  sche  it  layde, 
And  in  hir  arm  sche  lullith  it  wel  faste, 
And  unto  heven  hir  eyghen  up  sche  caste.  5260 

"  Moder,"  quod  sche,  "and  mayde  bright,  Marie, 
Sol  1 1  is,  that  thurgh  wommannes  eggement 
Mankynde  was  lorn  and  dampned  ay  to  dye, 

5243. — fayre.    Tyrwhitt  has  fourthe,  perhaps  correctly. 


'*>34  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

For  •which  thy  child  was  on  a  cros  to-rent : 
Thyn  blisful  eyghen  sawh  al  this  torment  ; 
Then  nys  ther  noon  comparisoun  bitwene 
Thy  wo,  and  any  woo  may  man  sustene. 

"  Thow  saugh  thy  child  i-slaw  byfor  thyn  yen, 
And  yit  now  lyveth  my  litel  child,  parfay  ! 
Now,  lady  bright,  to  whom  alle  woful  cryen,  5270 

Thou  glory  of  wommanhod,  thou  faire  may, 
Thou  heven  of  refute,  brighte  sterre  of  day, 
Rewe  on  my  child,  that  of  thyn  gentilnesse 
Rewest  on  every  synful  in  destresse. 

"  0  litel  child,  alias  !  what  is  thi  gilt, 
That  never  wroughtest  synne  as  yet,  parde  ? 
Why  wil  thyn  harde  fader  ban  the  spilt '? 
O  mercy,  deere  constable,"  seyde  sche, 
"  And  let  my  litel  child  here  d  we  lie  with  the  : 
And  if  thou  darst  not  saven  him  for  blame,  5280 

So  kys  him  oones  in  his  fadres  name." 

Therwith  sche  loketh  bak-ward  to  the  lond, 
And  seyde,  "  Farwel,  housbond  rewtheles  !" 
And  up  sche  rist,  and  walketh  doun  the  stronde 
Toward  the  schip,  hir  folweth  al  the  prees  : 
And  ever  sche  preyeth  hir  child  to  hold  his  pees, 
And  took  hir  leve,  and  with  an  holy  entent 
Sche  blesseth  hire,  and  to  the  schip  sche  went, 

Vytailled  was  the  schip,  it  is  no  drede, 
Abundauntly  for  hire  a  ful  longe  space :  5230 

And  other  necessaries  that  schulde  nede 
Sche  had  ynowgh,  heryed  be  Cristez  grace  : 


THE    MAN    OF    LAWES    TALE.  235 

For  wynd  and  water  almighty  God  purchace, 
And  bryng  hir  horn,  I  can  no  bettre  say, 
But  in  the  see  sche  dryveth  forth  hir  way. 

Alia  the  kyng  comth  horn  soon  after  this 
Unto  the  castel,  of  the  which  I  tolde, 
And  asketk  wher  his  wyf  and  his  child  ys. 
The  constable  gan  aboute  his  herte  colde, 
And  playnly  al  the  maner  he  him  tolde  5300 

As  ye  han  herd,  I  can  telle  it  no  better, 
And  schewed  the  kynges  seal  and  his  letter ; 

And  seyde,  "  Lord,  as  ye  comaunded  me 
Up  peyne  of  deth,  so  have  I  do  certayn." 
This  messager  tormented  was,  til  he 
Moste  biknowe  and  telle  it  plat  and  playn, 
Fro  nyght  to  night  in  what  place  he  had  layn  : 
And  thus  by  witt  and  subtil  enqueryng 
Ymagined  was  by  wham  this  gan  to  spryng. 

The  hand  was  knowen  that  the  lettre  wroot,      5310 
And  al  the  venym  of  this  cursed  dede  ; 
But  in  what  wyse,  certeynly  I  noot. 
Theffect  is  this,  that  Alia,  out  of  drede, 
His  rnoder  slough,  as  men  may  pleynly  reede, 
For  that  sche  traytour  was  to  hir  ligeaunce  : 
Thus  endeth  olde  Domegild  with  meschaunce. 

The  sorwe  that  this  Alia  night  and  day 
Makth  for  his  wyf  and  for  his  child  also, 
Ther  is  no  tonge  that  it  telle  may. 
But  now  I  wol  unto  Custaunce  go,  53:20 

That  fleeteth  in  the  see  in  peyne  and  wo 


286  THE    (ANTE11BUKY    TALKS. 

Fyve  yeer  and  more,  as  liked  Cristes  sonde, 
Er  that  hir  schip  approched  unto  londe. 

Under  an  kethen  castel  atte  last, 
Of  which  tke  name  in  my  text  nougkt  I  fynde, 
Constaunce  and  eek  hir  child  tke  see  upcast. 
Almigkty  God,  tkat  savetk  al  ruankynde, 
Have  on  Constaunce  and  on  kir  child  som  mynde  ! 
Tkat  fallen  is  in  ketken  kond  eftsone, 
In  poynt  to  spille,  as  I  sckal  telle  you  soone.        5330 

Doun  fro  tke  castel  cometk  many  a  wight, 
To  gawren  on  this  schip,  and  on  Constaunce  : 
But  schortly  fro  the  castel  on  a  night, 
The  lordes  sty  ward,  God  give  him  meschaunce! 
A  tlieef  tkat  had  reneved  oure  creaunce, 
Com  into  schip  alone,  and  seyd  he  scholde 
Hir  lemnian  he,  whethir  sche  wold  or  nolde. 

Wo  was  tliis  wreccked  womman  tho  kigoon, 
Hire  childe  crieth  and  sche  pytously : 
But  blisful  Mary  kilp  kir  right  anoon,  5340 

For  with  hir  stroglyng  wel  and  mightily 
The  theef  fel  over  boord  al  sodeinly, 
And  in  tke  see  ke  drenched  for  vengaunce, 
And  thus  hath  Crist  unwemmed  kept  Constance. 

O  foule  lust,  o  luxurie,  lo  thin  ende ! 
Nought  oonly  that  thou  feyntest  mannes  mynde, 
But  verrayly  thou  wolt  his  body  schende. 
The  ende  of  thyn  werk,  or  of  thy  lustes  blynde, 

5341. — stroglyng.     The  MS.  Harl.  reads  ttrengthe. 


THE    MAN    OF    LAWES    TALE.  237 

Is  compleynyng  :  how  many  may  men  fynde, 

That  nought  for  werk  som  tyme,  hut  for  thentent  5350 

To  doon  this  synne,  hen  eyther  slayn  or  schent ! 

How  may  this  weyke  womman  han  the  strengthe 
Hir  to  clefende  agein  this  renegat  ? 
0  Golias,  unmesurahle  of  lengthe, 
How  mighte  David  make  the  so  mate  ? 
So  yong,  and  of  armure  so  desolate, 
How  dorst  he  loke  upon  thyn  dredful  face  ? 
Wei  may  men  seyn,  it  nas  but  Goddes  grace. 

Who  gaf  Judith  corage  or  hardynesse 
To  slen  him  Olefernes  in  his  tent,  5360 

And  to  delyveren  out  of  wrecchednes 
The  peple  of  God  ?  I  say  in  this  entent, 
That  right  as  God  spiryte  and  vigor  sent 
To  hem,  and  saved  hem  out  of  meschaunce, 
So  sent  he  might  and  vigor  to  Constaunce. 

Forth  goth  hir  schip  thurghout  the  narwe  mouth 
Of  Juhalter  and  Septe,  dryvyng  alway, 
Som  tyme  west,  and  som  tyme  north  and  south, 
And  som  tyme  est,  ful  many  a  wery  day  : 
Til  Cristes  mooder,  blessed  be  sche  ay  !  5370 

Hath  schapen  thurgh  hir  endeles  goodnesse 
To  make  an  ende  of  hir  hevynesse. 

Now  let  us  stynt  of  Constance  but  a  throwe, 
And  speke  we  of  the  Romayn  emperour, 
That  out  of  Surrye  hath  by  lettres  knqwe 
The  slaughter  of  cristen  folk,  and  deshonour 
Doon  to  his  doughter  by  a  fals  traytour, 


238  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

I  mene  the  cursed  wikkecl  sowclenesse, 

That  at  the  fest  leet  slee  bothe  more  and  lesse. 

For  which  this  emperour  hath  sent  anoon         5380 
His  senatours,  with  real  ordynaunce, 
And  other  lordes,  God  wot,  many  oon, 
On  Surriens  to  take  high  vengaunce  : 
They  brenne,  sleen,  and  bringen  hem  to  meschaunce 
Ful  many  a  day  :  but  schortly  this  is  thende, 
Horn-ward  to  Rome  they  schapen  hem  to  wende. 

This  senatour  repayreth  with  victorie 
To  Rome-ward,  saylyng  ful  really, 
And  mette  the  schip  dryvyng,  as  seth  the  story, 
In  which  Constance  sitteth  ful  pitously  :  5390 

Nothing  ne  knew  he  what  sche  was,  ne  why 
Sche  was  in  such  aray,  sche  nolde  seye 
Of  hire  astaat,  although  sche  scholde  deye. 

He  bryngeth  hir  to  Rome,  and  to  his  wyf 
He  gaf  hir,  and  hir  yonge  sone  also  : 
And  with  the  senatour  lad  sche  hir  lyf. 
Thus  can  our  lady  bryngen  out  of  woo 
Woful  Constance,  and  many  another  moo : 
And  longe  tyme  dwelled  sche  in  that  place, 
In  holy  werkes,  as  ever  was  hir  grace.  5400 

The  senatoures  wif  hir  aunte  was, 
But  for  al  that  sche  knew  hir  never  more  : 
I  wol  no  lenger  taryen  in  this  cas, 
But  to  kyng  Alia,  which  I  spak  of  yore, 
That  for  his  wyf  wepeth  and  siketh  sore, 
I  wol  retorne,  and  lete  I  wol  Constaunce 


THE    MAX    OF    LAWES    TALE.  239 

Under  the  senatoures  govemaunce. 

Kyng  Alia,  which  that  had  his  mooder  slayn, 
Upon  a  day  fel  in  such  repentaunce, 
That  if  I  schortly  telle  schal  and  playn,  5410 

To  Rome  he  cometh  to  receyve  his  penaunce, 
And  putte  bini  in  the  popes  ordynaunce 
In  heigh  and  lowe,  and  Jhesu  Crist  by  sought, 
Forgef  his  wikked  werkes  that  he  wrought. 

The  fame  anon  thurgh  Rome  toun  is  born, 
How  Alia  kyng  schal  come  in  pilgrymage, 
By  herberjourz  that  wenten  him  bifom, 
For  which  the  senatour,  as  was  usage, 
Rood  him  agein,  and  many  of  his  lynage, 
As  wel  to  schewen  his  magnificence,  5420 

As  to  doon  eny  kyng  a  reverence. 

Gret  cheere  doth  this  noble  senatour 
To  kyng  Alia,  and  he  to  him  also  ; 
Everich  of  hem  doth  other  gret  honour. 
And  so  bifel,  that  in  a  day  or  two 
This  senatour  is  to  kyng  Alia  go 
To  fest,  and  schortly,  if  I  schal  not  lye, 
Constances  sone  went  in  his  companye. 

Som  men  wold  seyn  at  request  of  Custaunce 
This  senatour  hath  lad  this  child  to  feste  :  5430 

I  may  not  telle  every  circumstaunce, 
Be  as  be  may,  ther  was  he  atte  leste : 
But  soth  it  is,  right  at  his  modres  heste, 
Byfom  hem  alle,  duryng  the  metes  space, 
The  child  stood  lokyng  in  the  kynges  face. 


240  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

This  Alia  kyng  hath  of  this  child  gret  wonder, 
And  to  the  senatour  he  seyd  anoon, 

"  Whos  is  that  faire  child  that  stondeth  yonder  ?" 

"  I  not,"  quod  he,  "  by  God  and  by  seynt  Jon  ! 
A  moder  he  hath,  but  fader  hath  he  non,  5440 

That  I  of  woot :"  and  schortly  in  a  stounde 
He  told  Alia  how  that  this  child  was  founde. 
"  But  God  woot,"  quod  this  senatour  also, 

"  So  vertuous  a  lyver  in  my  lyf 
Ne  saugh  I  never,  such  as  sche,  norno 
Of  worldly  wornman,  mayden,  or  of  wyf : 
I  dar  wel  say  sche  hadde  lever  a  knyf 
Thurghout  hir  brest,  than  ben  a  womnian  wikke, 
Ther  is  no  man  can  bryng  hir  to  that  prikke. 

Now  was  this  child  as  lik  unto  Custaunce  5450 

As  possible  is  a  creature  to  be  : 
This  Alia  hath  the  face  in  remembraunce 
Of  dame  Custance,  and  theron  mused  he, 
If  that  the  childes  mooder  were  ought  sche 
That  is  his  wyf,  and  pryvely  he  bight, 
And  sped  him  fro  the  table  that  he  might. 

"  Parfay!"  thought  he,  "  fantom  is  in  myn  heed  ; 
I  ought  to  deme,  of  rightful  juggement, 
That  in  the  salte  see  my  wyf  is  deed." 
And  after-ward  he  made  this  argument :  5460 

"  What  woot  I,  wher  Crist  hath  hider  sent 
My  wyf  by  see,  as  wel  as  he  hir  sent 
To  my  contre,  fro  thennes  that  sche  went  ?" 
And  after  noon  home  with  the  senatour 


THE    MAN    OF    LAWES    TALK.  241 

Goth  Alia,  for  to  see  this  wonder  chaunce. 

This  senatour  doth  Alia  gi-et  honour, 

And  hastely  lie  sent  after  Custaunce. 

But  trusteth  wel,  hir  luste  nat  to  daunce, 

Whan  that  sche  wiste  wherfore  was  that  sonde, 

Unnethes  on  hir  feet  sche  mighte  stonde.  r"*7o 

Whan  Alia  saugh  his  wyf,  fayre  he  hir  grette, 
And  wepte,  that  it  was  rewthe  to  se ; 
For  at  the  firste  look  he  on  hir  sette 
He  knew  wel  verrely  that  it  was  sche  : 
And  for  sorwe,  as  domb  sche  stant  as  tre  : 
So  was  hire  herte  schett  in  hir  distresse, 
Whan  sche  remembred  his  unkyndenesse. 

Twies  sche  swowned  in  his  owen  sight, 
He  wept  and  hirn  excuseth  pitously  ; 
Now  God,"  quod  he,  "and  alle  his  halwes  bright  5480 
So  wisly  on  my  soule  have  mercy, 
That  of  youre  harm  as  gulteles  am  I 
As  is  Maurice  my  sone,  so  lyk  youre  face, 
Elles  the  feend  me  fecche  out  of  this  place." 

Long  was  the  sobbyng  and  the  bitter  peyne, 
Or  that  here  woful  herte  mighte  cesse  ; 
Gret  was  the  pite  for  to  here  hem  pleyne, 
Thurgli  whiche  playntz  gaii  here  wo  encresse. 
I  pray  you  alle  my  labour  to  relesse, 
I  may  not  telle  al  here  woo  unto  morwe,  5490 

I  am  so  wery  for  to  speke  of  the  sorwe. 

But  fvnallv,  whan  thai  the  soth  is  wist, 
Thai  Alia  gilteles  was  of  hir  woo, 


242  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

I  trowe  an  hundred  tymes  they  ben  kist, 

And  such  a  blys  is  ther  bitwix  hem  tuo, 

That,  save  the  joye  that  lasteth  everemo, 

Ther  is  noon  lyk,  that  eny  creature 

Hath  seyn  or  schal,  whil  that  the  world  may  dure. 

Tho  prayde  sche  hir  housbond  meekely 
In  the  relees  of  hir  pytous  pyne,  5500 

That  he  wold  preye  hir  fader  specially, 
That  of  his  majeste  he  wold  enclyne 
To  vouchesauf  som  tyme  with  him  to  dyne. 
Sche  preyeth  him  eek,  he  schulde  by  no  weye 
Unto  hir  fader  no  word  of  hir  seye. 

Som  men  wold  seye,  that  hir  child  Maurice 
Doth  his  message  unto  the  emperour : 
But,  as  I  gesse,  Alia  was  nat  so  nyce, 
To  him  that  is  so  soverayn  of  honour, 
As  he  that  is  of  Cristes  folk  the  flour,  5510 

Sent  eny  child  ;  but  it  is  best  to  deeme 
He  went  himsilf,  and  so  it  may  wel  seme. 

This  emperour  hath  grauntcd  gcntilly 
To  come  to  dyner,  as  he  him  bysought : 
And  wel  rede  I,  he  loked  besily 
Upon  the  child,  and  on  his  doughter  thought. 
Alia  goth  to  his  in,  and  as  him  ought 
Arrayed  for  this  fest  in  every  wyse, 
As  ferforth  as  his  connyng  may  suffise. 


5506  — som  men  wold  seye.  Tlie  version  of  the  story  liere  alluded  to 
is  that  given  iii  Goner's  Confcssio  Amantis,  book  ii,  which  appears  to 
have  been  published  before  Chaucer's  Canterbury  Tales  were  compiled. 


THE  MAX  OF  LA  WES  TAEE.  243 

The  movwe  cam,  and  Alia  gan  him  dresse,       •''520 
And  eek  his  wyf,  the  emperour  for  to  meete  : 
And  forth  they  ryde  in  joye  and  in  gladnesse, 
And  whan  sche  saugh  hir  fader  in  the  streete, 
Sche  light  adoun  and  falleth  him  to  feete. 
Fader,"  quod  sche,  "  your  yonge  child  Constance 
Is  now  ful  clene  out  of  your  remembraunce. 

"  I  am  your  dough ter  Custaunce,"  quod  sche, 
•  That  whilom  ye  have  sent  unto  Surrye  : 
It  am  I,  fader,  that  in  the  salte  see 
Was  put  alloon,  and  dampned  for  to  dye.  5530 

Now,  goode  fader,  mercy  I  you  crye, 
Send  me  no  more  unto  noon  hethenesse, 
But  thanke  my  lord  her  of  his  kyndenesse." 

Who  can  the  pytous  joye  telle  al 
Bitwix  hem  thre,  sith  they  he  thus  i-mette  ? 
But  of  my  tale  make  an  ende  I  schal ; 
The  day  goth  fast,  I  wol  no  lenger  lette. 
This  glade  folk  to  dyner  they  ben  sette : 
In  joye  and  blys  at  mete  I  let  hem  dwelle, 
A  thousand  fold  wel  more  than  I  can  telle.  ;">54<> 

This  child  Maurice  was  siththen  emperour 
I-maad  by  the  pope,  and  lyved  cristenly, 
To  Cristes  chirche  dede  he  gret  honour. 
But  I  let  al  his  story  passen  by, 
Of  Custaunce  is  my  tale  specially  ; 
In  olde  Roinayn  gestes  men  may  fynd 
Maurices  lyf,  I  bere  it  nought  in  mynde. 

This  kyng  Alia,  whan  he  bis  tynae  saw 

i:  '2   ■ 


244  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

With  his  Constaunce,  his  holy  wyf  so  swete, 

To  Engelond  they  com  the  righte  way,  5550 

Wher  as  they  lyve  in  joye  and  in  quyete. 

But  litel  whil  it  last,  I  you  biheete, 

Joy  of  this  world  for  tyme  wol  not  abyde, 

Fro  day  to  night  it  chaungeth  as  the  tyde. 

Who  lyved  ever  in  such  delyt  a  day, 
That  him  ne  meved  eyther  his  conscience, 
Or  ire,  or  talent,  or  som  maner  affray, 
Envy,  or  pride,  or  passioun,  or  offence '? 
I  ne  say  but  for  this  ende  this  sentence, 
That  litel  whil  in  joye  or  in  plesaunce  5560 

Lasteth  the  blis  of  Alia  with  Custaunce. 

For  deth,  that  takth  of  heigh  and  low  his  rent, 
Whan  passed  was  a  yeere,  as  I  gesse, 
Out  of  this  worlde  kyng  Alia  he  hent, 
For  whom  Custauns  hath  ful  gret  hevynesse. 
Now  let  us  pray  that  God  his  soule  blesse  ! 
And  dame  Custaunce,  fynally  to  say, 
Toward  the  toun  of  Rome  goth  hir  way. 

To  Rome  is  come  this  nobil  creature, 
And  fynt  hir  freendes  ther  bothe  hool  and  sound ;  5570 
Now  is  sche  skaped  al  hir  aventure. 
And  whanne  sche  hir  fader  had  i-founde, 
Doun  on  hir  knees  falleth  sche  to  grounde, 
Wepyng  for  tendirnes  in  herte  blithe 
Sche  heried  God  an  hundred  thousand  sithe. 

In  vertu  and  in  holy  almes-dede 
They  iyven  alle,  and  never  asondre  wende ; 


THE  PROLOGE  OF  THE  WYF  OF  BATHE.     245 

Til  cleth  departe  hem,  this  lyf  they  lede  : 

And  far  now  wel,  my  tale  is  at  an  ende. 

Now  Jhesu  Crist,  that  of  bis  might  may  sende     5580 

Joy  after  wo,  goveme  us  in  his  grace, 

And  keep  ous  alle  that  ben  in  this  place. 

THE  PROLOGE  OF  THE  WYF  OF  BATHE. 

"  Experiens,  though  noon  auctorite 
Were  in  this  world,  it  were  ynough  for  me 
To  speke  of  wo  that  is  in  mariage  : 


I'rologe  of  the  wyf  of  Bathe.  The  Wife  of  Bath's  prologue  may  be 
considered  as  a  separate  tale,  and  belongs  to  a  class  of  which  there  are 
several  examples  among  the  literature  of  the  middle  ages.  One  of  the 
latest  is  The  twa  maryit  wernen  and  the  ivedo  of  William  Dunbar.  The 
popular  literature  of  what  is  commonly  looked  upon  as  the  age  of 
chivalry,  shows  us  that  the  female  character  was  then  estimated  at  the 
lowest  possible  rate. 

The  Harl.  MS.  erroneously  places  at  the  beginning  of  this  prologue, 
the  prologue  to  the  Shipmau's  Tale.  Some  of  the  MSS.  collated  by  Tyr- 
whitt,  in  which  the  Merchant's  Tale  follows  the  Man  of  Law,  have  the 
following  introductory  lines: — 

Oure  oost  gaii  tho  to  loke  up  anon. 
"  Gode  men,"  quod  lie,  "  herkeneth  everichone, 

As  evere  mote  I  drynke  wyn  or  ale, 

This  marchant  hath  i-told  a  mery  tale, 

Howe  Januarie  hadde  a  lither  jape, 

His  wyf  put  in  his  hood  an  ape. 

But  hereof  I  wil  leve  off  as  now. 

Dame  wyf  of  Bathe,"  quod  he,  "  I  pray  you, 

Telle  us  a  tale  now  nexte  after  this." 
'•  Sir  oost,"  quod  she,  "  so  God  my  soule  blis  ! 

As  I  fully  thereto  wil  C0U8ente  ; 

And  also  it  is  myn  hole  entente 

To  done  vow  alle  disporte  as  that  1  can. 

But  holde  me  excused;   I  am  a  woman, 


240  THE    CANTEBBUKS    TALES. 

For,  lordyngs,  syns  I  twelf  yer  was  of  age, 

I  thank  it  God  that  is  eterne  on  lyve, 

Houshondes  atte  chirch  dore  I  have  had  fyve, 

For  I  so  ofte  might  have  weddid  be, 

And  alle  were  worthy  men  in  here  degre.  5590 

But  me  was  taught,  nought  longe  tyme  goon  is, 

That  synnes  Crist  went  never  but  onys 

To  weddyng,  in  the  Cane  of  Galile, 

That  by  the  same  ensampul  taught  he  me, 

That  I  ne  weddid  schulde  be  but  ones : 

Lo,  herken  such  a  scharp  word  for  the  nones ! 

Biside  a  welle  Jhesus,  God  and  man, 

Spak  in  reproef  of  the  Samaritan  : 
'Thow  hast  y-had  fyve  houshondes,'  quod  he; 
'  And  that  ilk  man,  which  that  now  hath  the,         5600 

Is  nought  thin  housbond ; '  thus  he  sayd  certayn  : 

What  that  he  ment  therby,  I  can  not  sayn. 

But  that  I  axe,  why  the  fyfte  man 

Was  nought  housbond  to  the  Samaritan  ? 

How  many  might  sche  have  in  manage '? 

Yit  herd  I  never  tellen  in  myn  age 

Uppon  this  noumbre  diffinicioun  ; 

Men  may  divine  and  glosen  up  and  doun. 


I  can  not  reherse,  as  these  clerkes  kunne." 
And  right  anon  she  hath  hir  tale  bygunne. 
In  the  MS   Lansdowne,  there  are  four  introductory  lines : 
Than  sehortly  ansewarde  the  wife  of  Bathe, 
And  swore  a  wonder  grete  hathe, 
"  Be  Goddes  bones,  I  wil  tel  next, 
I  wille  nouht  glose,  but  save  the  text. 
Experiment,  though  none  auctorite,  etc. 


THE    PROLOG E    OF    THE    WYF    OF    BATHE.  '<24? 

But  wel  I  wot,  withouten  eny  lye 

God  bad  us  for  to  wax  and  multipHe ;  561° 

That  gentil  tixt  can  I  wel  understonde. 

Ek  wel  I  wot,  he  sayd,  myn  househonde 

Schuld  lete  fader  and  moder,  and  folwe  me ; 

But  of  no  nouniher  mencioun  made  he, 

Of  by  gamy  e  or  of  octogamye  ; 

Why  schuld  men  speken  of  that  vilonye '? 

Lo  hier  the  wise  kyng  daun  Salamon, 

I  trow  he  hadde  wifes  mo  than  oon, 

As  wold  God  it  were  leful  unto  me 

To  be  refreisshed  half  so  oft  as  he !  r,,i-u 

Which  gift  of  God  had  he  for  alle  his  wyvys? 

No  man  hath  such,  that  in  the  world  on  lyve  is. 

God  wot,  this  nobil  king,  as  to  my  wit, 

The  firste  night  had  many  a  mery  fit 

With  ech  of  hem,  so  wel  was  him  on  lyve. 

I-blessid  be  God  that  I  have  wecldid  fyve ! 

Welcome  the  sixte  whan  that  ever  he  schal. 

For  sothe  I  nyl  not  kepe  me  chast  in  al ; 

Whan  myn  housbond  is  fro  the  world  i-gon, 

Sim  cristne  man  schal  wedde  me  anoon,  5680 


5026.     The  second  Cambridge  MS.  and  sonic  MSS.  quoted  by  Tyr- 
whitt,  add  after  this  verse- — 

Of  whiche  I  have  pyked  out  the  beste 

Bothe  of  here  nethur  purs  and  of  here  cheste. 

Diverse  scoles  niaken  ]iarfyt  clerk  es, 

And  diverse  practyk  in  many  sondn   nerkes 

Makeu  the  werkman  parfyt  sekirly: 

Of  five  husbondes  scoleryng  am  I. 

Welcome  the  sixtbr,  etc. 


248  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

For  than  thapostil  saitli  that  I  am  fee 

To  wedde,  a  goddis  haf,  wher  so  it  be. 

He  saith,  that  to  he  weddid  is  no  synne ; 

Bet  is  to  he  weddid  than  to  brynne. 

What  recchith  me  what  folk  sayn  vilonye 

Of  schrewith  Lameth,  and  of  his  higamye '? 

I  wot  wel  Ahram  was  an  holy  man, 

And  Jacob  eek,  as  ferforth  as  I  can, 

And  ech  of  hem  had  wyves  mo  than  tuo, 

And  many  another  holy  man  also.  5640 

Whan  sawe  ye  in  eny  maner  age 

That  highe  God  defendid  mariage 

By  expres  word?  I  pray  yow  tellith  me ; 

Or  wher  commaunded  he  virginite  ? 

I  wot  as  wel  as  ye,  it  is  no  drede, 

Thapostil,  whan  he  spekth  of  maydeuhede, 

He  sayd,  that  precept  therof  had  he  noon  : 

Men  may  counseil  a  womman  to  be  oon, 

But  counselyng  nys  no  comamidement ; 

He  put  it  in  our  owne  juggement.  565° 

For  hadde  God  comaundid  maydenhede, 

Than  had  he  dampnyd  weddyng  with  the  clede ; 

And  certes,  if  ther  were  no  seed  i-sowe, 

Virginite  wheron  schuld  it  growe  ? 

Poul  ne  dorst  not  comaunde  atte  lest 

A  tiling,  of  which  his  maister  gaf  non  hest. 

The  dart  is  set  upon  virginite, 

Cach  who  so  may,  who  rennith  best  let  se. 

But  this  word  is  not  taken  of  every  wight. 


THE  PR0L0GE  OF  THE  WYF  OF  BATHE.     249 

But  ther  as  God  list  give  it  of  his  might.  5660 

I  wot  wel  that  thapostil  was  a  mayde, 

But  natheles,  though  that  he  wrot  or  sayde, 

He  wolde  that  every  wight  were  such  as  he, 

Al  nys  but  counseil  unto  virgiuite. 

And  for  to  ben  a  wyf  he  gaf  rue  leve, 

Of  indulgence,  so  nys  it  to  repreve 

To  wedde  me,  if  that  my  make  deye, 

Withoute  excepcioun  of  bigamye  ; 

Al  were  it  good  no  womman  for  to  touche, 

(He  mente  in  his  bed  or  in  his  couche)  607° 

For  peril  is  bothe  fuyr  and  tow  to  assemble  ; 

Ye  knowe  what  this  ensample  wold  resemble. 

This  is  al  and  som,  he  holdith  virginite 

More  parfit  than  weddyng  in  frelte  : 

(Frelte  clepe  I,  but  if  that  he  and  sche 

Wold  leden  al  ther  lif  in  chastite). 

I  graunt  it  wel,  I  have  noon  envye, 

Though  maidenhede  preferre  bygamye  ; 

It  liketh  hem  to  be  clene  in  body  and  gust : 

Of  myn  estate  I  nyl  make  no  host.  •'•'"• ' 

For  wel  ye  wot,  a  lord  in  his  houshold 

He  nath  not  every  vessel  ful  of  gold  ; 

Som  ben  of  tre,  and  don  her  lord  servise. 

God  clepeth  folk  to  him  in  sondry  wise, 

And  every  hath  of  God  a  propre  gifte, 

Som  this,  som  that,  as  him  likith  to  srhifte. 

5681. — a  lord  in  his  houshold,     See  2  Tim.  ii,  20. 


25<»  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Virginite  is  gret  perfeccioun, 

And  continens  eek  with  gret  devocioun  : 

But  Christ,  that  of  perfeccioun  is  welle, 

Bad  nought  every  wight  schuld  go  and  selle  5690 

Al  that  lie  had,  and  give  it  to  the  pore. 

And  in  such  wise  folwe  him  and  his  fore. 

He  spak  to  hem  that  wolde  lyve  parfytly, 

And,  lordyngs,  by  your  leve,  that  am  not  1 ; 

I  wol  bystowe  the  flour  of  myn  age 

In  the  actes  and  in  the  fruytes  of  manage. 

Tel  me  also,  to  what  conclusioun 

Were  membres  maad  of  generacioun, 

And  of  so  parfit  wise  a  wight  y- wrought  ? 

Trustith  right  wel,  thay  were  nought  maad  for  nought. 

Glose  who  so  wol,  and  say  bothe  up  and  doun,      57°1 

That  thay  were  made  for  purgaciouu, 

Oure  bothe  uryn,  and  thinges  smale, 

Were  eek  to  knowe  a  femel  fro  a  male  : 

And  for  non  other  cause  ?  say  ye  no  ? 

Thexperiens  wot  wel  it  is  not  so. 

So  that  these  clerke  ben  not  with  me  wrothe, 

I  say  this,  that  thay  makid  ben  for  bothe, 

This  is  to  say,  for  office  and  for  ease 

Of  engendrure,  ther  we  God  nought  displease.      5?1(l 

Why  schuld  men  elles  in  her  bokes  sette, 

That  man  schal  velde  to  his  wif  his  dette  ? 


5609.  —  And  of  so  parfit  wise.  The  MS.  llai-l    reads,  And  in  what  u-isi' 
Some  MSS.  read  and  why,  instead  of  a  wight. 


THE  PROLOGE  OF  THE  WYF  OF  BATHE.     '^51 

Now  wherwith  schuld  he  make  his  payement, 

If  he  ne  used  his  sely  instrument  ? 

Than  were  thay  maad  up  a  creature 

To  purge  uryn,  and  eek  for  engendrure. 

But  I  say  not  that  eveiy  wight  is  holde, 

That  hath  such  hanieys  as  I  to  yow  tolde, 

To  gon  and  usen  hem  in  engendrure  ; 

Than  schuld  men  take  of  chastite  no  cure.  5720 

Crist  was  a  mayde,  and  schapen  as  a  man, 

And  many  a  seynt,  sin  that  the  world  bygan, 

Yet  lyved  thay  ever  in  parfyt  chastite. 

I  nyl  envye  no  virginite. 

Let  hem  be  bred  of  pured  whete  seed, 

And  let  us  wyves  eten  barly  breed. 

And  yet  with  barly  bred,  men  telle  can, 

Oure  Lord  Jhesu  refreisschid  many  a  man. 

In  such  astaat  as  God  hath  cleped  ous 

I  wil  persever,  I  am  not  precious  ;  5730 

In  wyf  hode  I  wil  use  myn  instrument 

Als  frely  as  my  maker  hath  me  it  sent. 

If  I  be  daungerous,  God  give  me  sorwe, 

Myn  housbond  schal  ban  it  at  eve  and  morvve, 

Whan  that  him  list  com  forth  and  pay  his  dette. 

An  housbond  wol  I  have,  I  wol  not  lette, 

Which  schal  be  bothe  my  dettour  and  my  thral, 

And  have  his  tribulacioun  withal 

Upon  his  fleissch,  whil  that  \  am  liis  wyf. 

I  have  the  power  duryng  al  my  lit'  5740 

Upon  his  propre  body,  and  not  he; 


252 


THE    CANTEHBUKY    TALES. 


Right  thus  thapostil  told  it  unto  me, 

And  bad  oure  housbondes  for  to  love  us  wel ; 

Al  this  sentence  me  likith  every  del." 
Up  start  the  pardoner,  and  that  anoon ; 
"  Now,  dame,"  quod  he,  "  by  God  and  by  seint  Jon, 

Ye  ben  a  noble  prechour  in  this  caas. 

I  was  aboute.  to  wedde  a  wif,  allaas  ! 

What  ?  schal  I  buy  it  on  my  rleisch  so  deere  ? 

Yit  had  I  lever  wedde  no  wyf  to  yere  !"  5750 

"  Abyd,"  quod  sche,  "  my  tale  is  not  bygonne. 

Nay,  thou  schalt  drink  e  of  another  tonne 

Er  that  I  go,  schal  savere  wors  than  ale. 

And  whan  that  I  have  told  the  forth  my  tale 

Of  tribulacioun  in  mariage, 

Of  which  I  am  expert  in  al  myn  age, 

This  is  to  say,  myself  hath  ben  the  whippe ; 

Than  might  thou  chese  whethir  thou  wilt  sippe 

Of  thilke  tonne,  that  I  schal  abroche. 

Be  war  of  it,  er  thou  to  neigh  approche.  576(} 

For  I  schal  telle  ensamples  mo  than  ten  : 

Who  so  that  nyl  be  war  by  other  men 

By  him  schal  other  men  corrected  be : 

The  same  wordes  writes  Ptholome, 

Rede  in  his  Almagest,  and  tak  it  there." 
"  Dame,  I  wold  pray  you,  if  that  youre  wille  were," 


5761. — Plholomg.  The  wife  of  Bath's  quotations  from  Ptolemy,  here 
and  at  1.  5906,  are  not,  it  appears,  to  be  found  in  (lie  Almagest.  She 
seems  to  quote  Ttolemy  vvhen  she  cannot  father  an  opinion  upon  any- 
body tlse. 


THE  PROLOGE  OF  THE  WYF  OF  BATHE.     253 

Saycle  this  pardoner,  "  as  ye  higan, 
Tel  forth  youre  tale,  and  sparith  for  no  man, 
Teche  us  yonge  men  of  youre  practike." 
Gladly,"  quod  sche,  "syns  it  may  yow  like.  577° 

But  that  I  pray  to  al  this  companye, 
If  that  I  speke  after  my  fantasie, 
As  taketh  nought  agreef  of  that  I  say, 
For  myn  entente  is  nought  hut  to  play. 
"  Now,  sires,  now  wol  I  telle  forth  my  tale. 
As  ever  mote  I  drinke  wyn  or  ale, 
I  schal  say  soth  of  housbondes  that  I  hadde, 
As  thre  of  hem  were  goode,  and  tuo  were  badde. 
Tuo  of  hem  were  goode,  riche,  and  olde ; 
Unnethes  mighte  thay  the  statute  holde,  578° 

In  which  that  thay  were  bounden  unto  me : 
Ye  wot  wel  what  I  mene  of  this  parde  ! 
As  help  me  God,  I  laugh  whan  that  I  thinke, 
How  pitously  on  night  I  made  hem  swynke, 
But,  by  my  fay  !   I  told  of  it  no  stoor  : 
Thay  had  me  give  her  lond  and  her  tresor, 
Me  nedith  not  no  lenger  doon  diligence 
To  wynne  her  love  or  doon  hem  reverence. 
Thay  loved  me  so  wel,  by  God  above  ! 
That  I  tolde  no  deynte  of  her  love.  5790 

A  wys  womman  wol  bysi  hir  ever  in  oon 
To  gete  hir  love,  there  sche  hath  noon. 


6779  — Tuo  of  htm.     The  more  common  rending  of  the  MSS  is  The 
litre  were,  which  is  adopted  by  Tyrwhitt. 


25  I  THE    CANTERBURY    TALKS. 

But  synnes  I  had  hem  holly  in  myn  hoi  id, 

And  synnes  thay  had  me  geven  al  her  lond, 

What  sehuld  I  take  keep  hem  for  to  please, 

But  it  were  for  my  profyt,  or  myn  ease  ? 

I  sette  hem  so  on  werke,  by  my  fay  ! 

That  many  a  night  thay  songen  weylaway. 

The  bacoun  was  nought  fet  for  hem,  I  trowe, 

That  som  men  fecche  in  Essex  at  Donmowe.        5800 

I  governed  hem  so  wel  after  my  lawe, 

That  ech  of  hem  ful  hlisful  was  and  fawe 

To  bringe  me  gaye  thinges  fro  the  faire. 

Thay  were  ful  glad  whan  I  spak  to  hem  faire  ; 

For,  God  it  woot,  I  ehidde  hem  spitously. 

Now  herkeneth  how  I  bar  me  proprely. 

Ye  wise  wyves,  that  can  understonde, 

Thus  scholde  ye  speke,  and  here  hem  wrong  on  honde ; 

For  half  so  boldely  can  ther  no  man 

Swere  and  lye  as  a  womman  can.  5810 


5799. — the  bacoun.  The  Dunmow  bacon  appears  to  have  been  in  great 
reputation  in  the  fourteenth  and  fifteenth  centuries.  The  following  notice 
of  this  curious  custom  is  found  among  some  poetry  of  the  latter  period, 
printed  in  the  Reliquuc  Antiq.,  ii,  p.  29  • — 

I  can  fynd  no  man  now  that  wille  enquere 
The  parfyte  wais  unto  Dunmow  ! 
For  they  repent  hem  within  a  yere, 
And  many  within  a  weke,  and  sonner,  men  trow  ; 
That  cawsith  the  wais  to  be  rough  and  overgrow , 
That  no  man  may  fynd  path  or  gup, 
The  world  is  turnyd  to  another  shap. 
5810. — swere   and  lyt.      A  parallel   passage  is  quoted  by  TyrwhiK, 
from  the  Roman  <le  la  Rose  :  - 

Car  plus  hardiment  que  nulz  horns 
Certainement  jurent  et  mentent. 


THE    PBOLOGE    OF    THE    WYF    OF    BATHE.  255 

(I  say  not  by  wyvea  that  ben  wise, 

But  if  it  be  whan  thay  ben  mysavise.) 

I-wis  a  wif,  if  that  sche  can  hir  good, 

Schal  beren  him  on  bond  the  cow  is  wood, 

And  take  witnes  on  hir  oughne  mayde 

Of  hire  assent :  but  herkenith  how  I  sayde. 

See,  olde  caynard,  is  this  thin  array  ? 

Why  is  my  neghebores  wif  so  gay  ? 

Sche  is  honoured  over  al  ther  sche  goth ; 

I  sitte  at  horn,  I  have  no  thrifty  cloth.  382t) 

What  dostow  at  my  neighebores  hous  ? 

Is  sche  so  fair  ?  what,  artow  amorous  '? 

What  roune  ye  with  hir  maydenes  ?  ben edi cite, 

Sir  olde  lecchour,  let  thi  japes  be. 

And  if  I  have  a  gossib,  or  a  frend 

Withouten  gilt,  thou  chidest  as  a  fend, 

If  that  I  walk  or  play  unto  his  hous. 

Thou  comest  horn  as  dronken  as  a  mous, 

And  prechist  on  thy  bench,  with  evel  preef, 


5817.  "  In  the  following  speech,  it  would  he  endless  to  produce  all 
Chancer"*  imitations.  The  beginning  is  from  the  fragment  of  Theo- 
phrastus,  quoted  by  St.  Jerome,  c.  Jovin,  1.  i,  and  by  John  of  Salisbury, 
Polycrat.  lib.  viii,  c.  xi.  see  also  Rom.  de  la  It.  ver.  8967.  ct  suiv."  Tyr- 
ivhitl. 

5828. — dronken  as  a  mous.  This  was  a  common  phrase.  In  the 
satirical  poem  of  Doctour  Double-ale,  we  have  the  lines. 

Then  seke  another  house, 

This  is  not  worth  a  louse  ; 

As  dronken  as  a  mouse. 
Among  the  letters  relating  to  the  suppression  of  monasteries  (Camd.  Sue. 
Pnbl.)  p.  133,  there  is  one  from  a  monk  of  IVrslmiv,   who  says  that  his 
In-other  monks  of  that  house  "  drynk  an  bowll  after  collacyon  tell  ten  or 
xii.  of  the  clock,  and  cum  to  mattens  as  dronck  at  myt." 


'251')  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Thou  saist  to  me,  it  is  a  gret  meschief  5330 

To  wedde  a  pover  womman,  for  costage  : 

And  if  that  sche  be  riche  and  of  parage, 

Thanne  saist  thou,  that  it  is  a  tormentrie 

To  suffre  hir  pride  and  hir  malencolie. 

And  if  that  sche  be  fair,  thou  verray  knave, 

Thou  saist  that  every  holour  wol  hir  have. 

Sche  may  no  while  in  chastite  abyde, 

That  is  assayled  thus  on  eche  syde. 

Thou  saist  that  som  folk  desire  us  for  riches, 

Som  for  our  schap,  and  som  for  our  faimes,  5840 

And  some,  for  that  sche  can  synge  and  daunce, 

And  some  for  gentilesse  or  daliaunce, 

Som  for  hir  handes  and  hir  armes  smale : 

Thus  goth  al  to  the  devel  by  thi  tale. 

Thou  saist,  men  may  nought  kepe  a  castel  wal, 

It  may  so  be  biseged  over  al. 

And  if  sche  be  foul,  thanne  thou  saist,  that  sche 

Coveitith  every  man  that  sche  may  se  ; 

For,  as  a  spaynel,  sche  wol  on  him  lepe, 

Til  that  sche  fyncle  som  man  hire  to  chepe.  5850 

Ne  noon  so  gray  a  goos  goth  in  the  lake, 

As  sayest  thou,  wol  be  withouten  make. 

And  saist,  it  is  an  hard  thing  for  to  wolde 

Thing,  that  no  man  wol,  his  willes  holde. 

Thus  seistow,  lorel,  whan  thou  gost  to  bedde, 

And  that  no  wys  man  nedith  for  to  wedde, 

Ne  no  man  that  entendith  unto  hevene. 

With  wilde  thunder  clynt  and  fuyry  levene 


THE  PROLOGE  OF  THE  WYF  OF  BATHE.     257 

Mote  tin  wicked  necke  be  to-broke ! 

Thou  saist,  that  droppyng  hous,  and  eek  smoke,    6S(5° 

And  chydyng  wyves  maken  men  to  fie 

Out  of  here  oughne  hous  ;  a,  benedicite, 

What  eylith  such  an  old  man  for  to  chyde  ? 

Thou  seist,  we  wyves  woln  oure  vices  hide, 

Til  we  ben  weddid,  and  than  we  wil  hem  schewe. 

Wei  may  that  be  a  proverbe  of  a  schrewe. 

Thou  saist,  that  assen,  oxen,  and  houndes, 

Thay  ben  assayed  at  divers  stoundes, 

Basyns,  lavours  eek,  er  men  hem  bye, 

Spones,  stooles,  and  al  such  housbondrie,  §870 

Also  pottes,  clothes,  and  array, 

But  folk  of  wyves  maken  non  assay, 

Til  thay  ben  weddid,  olde  dotard  schrewe ! 

And  thanne,  saistow,  we  woln  oure  vices  schewe. 

Thou  saist  also,  that  it  displesith  me, 

But  if  that  thou  wilt  praysen  my  beaute, 

And  but  thou  pore  alway  in  my  face, 

And  clepe  me  faire  dame  in  every  place  ; 

And  but  thou  make  a  fest  on  thilke  day 

Tbat  I  was  born,  and  make  me  freisch  and  gay;  5880 

And  but  thou  do  my  nonce  honoure, 

And  to  my  chamberer  withinne  my  boure, 

And  to  my  fadres  folk,  and  myn  allies  : 

Thus  saistow,  oleic  barel  ful  of  lies  ! 

And  yit  of  oure  apprentys  Jankyn, 

For  his  crisp  her,  schynyng  as  gold  so  fyn, 

Ami  for  he  squiereth  me  uji  and  doun, 


Q58  THE    CANTERBURY    TAEES. 

Yet  hastow  caught  a  fals  suspeccioun  : 

I  nyl  him  nought,  though  thou  were  deed  to  morwe. 

But  tel  me  wherfor  hydestow  with  sorwe  5890 

The  keyes  of  thy  chist  away  fro  me  ? 

It  is  my  good  as  wel  as  thin,  parde. 

"  What !  wenest  thou  make  an  ycliot  of  oure  dame  ? 
Now  l>y  that  lord  that  cleped  is  seint  Jame, 
Thow  schalt  not  hothe,  though  thou  were  wood, 
Be  maister  of  my  hody  and  of  my  good ; 
That  oon  thou  schalt  forgo  maugre  thin  yen  ! 
What  helpeth  it  on  me  tenqueren  or  espien  ? 
I  trowe  thou  woldest  lokke  me  in  thy  chest. 
Thou  scholdist  say,  '  wif,  go  wher  the  lest ;  5900 

Take  youre  disport ;  I  nyl  lieve  no  talis  ; 
I  know  yow  for  a  trewe  wif,  dame  Alis.' 
We  loveth  no  man,  that  takith  keep  or  charge 
Wher  that  we  goon ;  we  love  to  he  at  large. 

"  Of  alle  men  i-blessed  most  he  be 
The  wise  astrologe  daun  Ptholome, 
*  That  saith  this  proverhe  in  his  Almagest : 
Of  alle  men  his  wisedom  is  highest, 
That  rekkith  not  who  hath  the  world  in  honde. 
By  this  proverbe  thou  schalt  understonde,  5910 

Have  thou  ynough,  what  thar  the  recch  or  care 
How  merily  that  other  folkes  fare  ? 
For  certes,  olde  dotard,  with  your  leve, 
Ye  schul  have  queynte  right  ynough  at  eve. 
He  is  to  gret  a  nygard  that  wol  werne 
A  man  to  light  a  candel  at  his  lanterne ; 


THE  PROLOGE  OF  THE  WYF  OF  BATHE.     259 

He  schal  have  never  the  lasse  light,  parde. 
Have  tliou  ynough,  the  thar  not  pleyne  the. 
"  Thou  saist  also,  that  if  we  make  us  gay 
With  clothing  and  with  precious  array,  6920 

That  it  is  peril  of  our  chastite. 
And  yit,  with  sorwe,  thou  most  enforce  the, 
And  say  these  wordes  in  thapostles  name : 
In  abyt  maad  with  chastite  and  schame 
Ye  wommen  schuld  apparayl  yow,  quod  he, 
And  nought  with  tressed  her,  and  gay  perre, 
As  perles,  ne  with  golden  clothis  riche. 
After  thy  text,  ne  after  thin  rubriche, 
I  wol  nought  wirche  as  moche  as  a  gnat. 
Thow  saist  thus  that  I  was  lik  a  cat ;  5930 

For  who  so  wolde  senge  the  cattes  skyn, 
Than  wold  the  catte  duellen  in  his  in  ; 
And  if  the  cattes  skyn  be  slyk  and  gay, 
Sche  wol  not  duelle  in  house  half  a  day, 
But  forth  sche  wil,  er  eny  day  be  dawet, 
To  schewe  hir  skyn,  and  goon  a  caterwrawet. 
This  is  to  say,  if  I  be  gay,  sir  schrewe, 
I  wol  renne  aboute,  my  borel  for  to  schewe. 
Sir  olde  fool,  what  helpith  the  to  aspien  ? 
Though  thou  pray dest  Argus  with  his  hundrid  yen  5940 
To  be  my  wardecorps,  as  he  can  best, 
In  faith  he  schuld  not  kepe  me  but  if  me  lest : 
Yit  couthe  I  make  his  herd,  though  queynte  he  be. 


5923. — thapostles  name.     See  1  Tim.  ii.  9. 

s  2 


260  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Thou  saydest  eek,  that  ther  ben  thinges  thre, 

The  whiche  thinges  troublen  al  this  erthe, 

And  that  no  wight  may  endure  the  ferthe. 

0  leve  sire  schrewe,  Jhesu  schorte  thy  lif ! 

Yit  prechestow,  and  saist,  an  hateful  wif 

I-rekened  is  for  oon  of  these  rneschaunces. 

Ben  ther  noon  other  of  thy  resemblaunces  5950 

That  ye  may  liken  youre  parables  unto, 

But  if  a  cely  wyf  be  oon  of  tho  ? 

Thow  likenest  wommannes  love  to  helle, 

To  bareyn  lond,  ther  water  may  not  duelle. 

Thou  likenest  it  also  to  wilde-  fuyr ; 

The  more  it  brenneth,  the  more  it  hath  desir 

To  consume  every  thing,  that  brent  wol  be. 

Thou  saist,  right  as  wormes  schenden  a  tre, 

Right  so  a  wif  schendith  hir  housebonde  ; 

This  knowen  tho  that  ben  to  wyves  bonde.  59(5° 

Lordynges,  right  thus,  as  ye  ban  understonde, 

Bar  I  styf  myn  housebondes  on  honde, 

That  thus  thay  sayde  in  her  dronkenesse ; 

And  al  was  fals,  but  that  I  took  witnesse 

On  Jankyn,  and  upon  my  nece  also. 

0  Lord,  the  peyne  I  dede  hem,  and  the  wo, 
Ful  gulteles,  by  Goddes  swete  pyne  ; 

For  as  an  hors,  I  couthe  bothe  bite  and  whyne  ; 

1  couthe  pleyne,  and  yet  I  was  in  the  gilt, 

Or  elles  I  hadde  often  tyme  be  spilt.  6970 

Who  so  first  cometh  to  the  mylle,  first  grynt ; 

5971. — to  the  mylle.     This  proverb  is  found  also  in  French,  in   the 
fifteenth  century,  Qui  premier  vient  au  moulin  premier  doit  mouldre. 


THE  PR0L0GE  OF  THE  WYF  OF  BATHE.     "261 

I  pleyned  first,  so  was  oure  werre  stynt. 

Thay  were  ful  glad  to  excuse  hem  ful  blyve 

Of  thing,  that  thay  never  agilt  in  her  lyve. 

And  wenches  wold  I  beren  hem  on  honde, 

Whan  that  for  seek  thay  might  unnethes  stonde, 

Yit  tykeled  I  his  herte  for  that  he 

Wende  I  had  of  him  so  gret  chierete : 

I  swor  that  al  my  walkyng  out  a  nyght 

Was  for  to  aspie  wenches  that  he  dight :  5980 

Under  that  colour  had  I  many  a  mirthe. 

For  al  such  witte  is  geven  us  of  birthe  ; 

Deceipt,  wepyng,  spynnyng,  God  hath  give 

To  wymmen  kyndely,  whil  thay  may  lyve. 

And  thus  of  o  thing  I  avaunte  me, 

At  thende  I  had  the  bet  in  ech  degre, 

By  sleight  or  fors,  or  of  som  maner  thing, 

As  by  continuel  murmur  or  chidyng, 

Namly  on  bedde,  hadden  thay  meschaunce, 

Ther  wold  I  chide,  and  do  hem  no  plesaunce  :      5990 

I  wold  no  lenger  in  the  bed  abyde, 

If  that  I  felt  his  arm  over  my  syde, 

Til  he  had  maad  his  raunsoun  unto  me, 

Than  wold  I  suffre  him  doon  his  nycete. 

And  therfor  every  man  this  tale  telle, 

Wynne  who  so  may,  for  al  is  for  to  sclle  : 

5983. — deceipt     This  appears  to  have  been  a  popular  saying:  in  the 
margin  of  the  Lansdowne  MS.  it  is  given  in  a  Latin  leonine,  thus:  — 
Fallere  Hire,  nere,  dedit  Deus  in  muliere. 
o98S — chidyng-     Mo&<  of  the  MSS  have-,  with  Tyrwhitt,  grucchyng 


6000 


202  THE    CANTERBURY   TALES. 

With  empty  honcl  men  may  noon  haukea  lure, 

For  wynnyng  wold  I  al  his  lust  endure, 

And  make  me  a  feyned  appetyt, 

And  yit  in  bacoun  had  I  never  delyt : 

That  made  me  that  ever  I  wold  hem  chyde. 

For  though  the  pope  had  seten  hem  bisyde, 

I  nold  not  spare  hem  at  her  oughne  bord, 

For,  by  my  trouthe,  I  quyt  hem  word  for  word. 

Als  help  me  verray  God  omnipotent, 

Though  I  right  now  schuld  make  my  testament, 

I  owe  hem  nought  a  word,  that  it  nys  quitte, 

I  brought  it  so  aboute  by  my  witte, 

That  thay  most  geve  it  up,  as  for  the  best, 

Or  ellis  had  we  never  ben  in  rest.  6010 

For  though  he  loked  as  a  grym  lyoun, 

Yit  schuld  he  fayle  of  his  conclusioun. 

Than  wold  I  say,  '  now,  goode  leef,  tak  keep, 

How  mekly  lokith  Wilkyn  our  scheep  ! 

Com  ner,  my  spouse,  let  me  ba  thy  cheke. 

Ye  schulde  be  al  pacient  and  meke, 

And  have  a  swete  spiced  consciens, 

Siththen  ye  preche  so  of  Jobes  paciens. 

Suffreth  alway,  syns  ye  so  wel  can  preche, 

And  but  ye  do,  certeyn  we  schul  yow  teche  ,i0-° 

That  it  is  fair  to  have  a  wyf  in  pees. 

On  of  us  tuo  mot  bowe  douteles : 

And,  siththen  man  is  more  resonable 

Than  womman  is,  ye  moste  be  suffrable. 

What  aylith  yew  thus  for  to  grucche  and  grone  ? 


THE    PBOLOGE    OF    THE    WYF    OF    BATHE.  263 

Is  it  for  ye  wold  have  my  queynt  allone  ? 

Why,  tak  it  al :  lo,  have  it  every  del. 

Peter !  I  schrewe  yow  but  ye  love  it  wel. 

For  if  I  wolde  selle  my  bele  chose, 

I  couthe  walk  as  freisch  as  eny  rose,  6030 

But  I  wol  kepe  it  for  youre  owne  toth. 

Ye  beu  to  blame,  by  God,  I  say  yow  soth  !" 

Such  maner  wordes  hadde  we  on  honde. 

Now  wol  I  speke  of  my  fourth  housboude. 

My  fourthe  housbond  was  a  revelour, 

This  is  to  say,  he  had  a  paramour, 

Aud  I  was  yong  and  ful  of  ragerie, 

Stibom  and  strong,  and  joly  as  a  pye. 

How  couthe  I  daunce  to  an  harpe  smale, 

And  synge  y-wys  as  eny  nightyngale,  60i0 

Whan  I  had  dronke  a  draught  of  swete  wyn. 

Metillius,  the  foule  cherl,  the  swyn, 

That  with  a  staf  byraft  Ms  wyf  hir  lyf 

For  sche  drank  wyn,  though  I  had  ben  his  wif, 

Ne  schuld  nought  have  daunted  me  fro  drink  : 

And  after  wyn  on  Venus  most  I  think. 

For  al  so  siker  as  cold  engendrith  hayl, 

A  likorous  mouth  most  have  a  licorous  tail. 

In  wymmen  vinolent  is  no  defens, 


6028. — Peter!  This  is  a  very  common  exclamation,  from  St.  Peter, 
as  Marie  !  from  the  Virgin.  St.  Peter,  as  the  reputed  head  of  the  papacy, 
stood  high  among  the  saints  in  the  Romish  Church 

G012. — Metillius.  This  anecdote  is  taken  from  Valerius  Maximus, 
lib.  vi.  c.  3,  ex.  9.  The  same  story  is  told  by  Pliny,  Hist.  Nat.  xiv.  1:?, 
but  for  Egnatius  Metellua  he  substitutes  the  name  of  Mepenius. 


204  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

This  knowen  lecchours  by  experiens.  6050 

But,  lord  Crist,  whan  that  it  remembrith  me 

Upon  my  youthe,  and  on  my  jolite, 

It  tikelith  me  about  myn  herte-roote. 

Unto  this  day  it  doth  rnyn  herte  boote, 

That  I  have  had  my  world  as  in  my  tyme. 

But  age,  alias  !  that  al  wol  envenyme, 

Hath  me  bireft  my  beaute  and  my  pith : 

Let  go,  farwel,  the  devyl  go  therwith. 

The  flour  is  goon,  ther  nis  no  more  to  telle, 

The  bran,  as  I  best  can,  now  mot  I  selle.  6060 

But  yit  to  be  mery  wol  I  fonde. 

Now  wol  I  telle  of  my  fourt  housbonde. 

I  say,  I  had  in  herte  gret  despyt, 

That  be  of  eny  other  had  delit ; 

But  he  was  quit,  by  God  and  by  seint  Joce  : 

I  made  him  of  the  same  woode  a  croce, 

Nought  of  my  body  in  no  foul  manere, 

But  certeynly  I  made  folk  such  chere, 

That  in  his  owne  grees  I  made  him  frie 

For  anger,  and  for  verray  jalousie.  6070 

By  God,  in  erthe  I  was  his  purgatory, 

For  which  I  hope  his  soule  be  in  glory. 

For,  God  it  wot,  he  sat  ful  stille  and  song, 

Whan  that  his  scho  ful  bitterly  him  wrong. 

Ther  was  no  wight,  sauf  God  and  he,  that  wist 

6065. — seint  Joce.     A  French  saint,  known  in  Latin  as  St.  Judocus. 

6074. — his  scho.  An  allusion  to  the  story  of  the  Roman  sage,  who, 
when  blamed  for  divorcing  his  wife,  said  that  a  shoe  might  appear  out- 
wardly to  fit  well,  but  no  one  but  the  wearer  knew  where  it  pinched. 


THE  PKOLOGE  OF  THE  WYF  OF  BATHE.     265 

In  many  wyse  how  sore  I  him  twist. 

He  dyed  whan  I  cam  fro  Jerusalem, 

And  lith  i-grave  under  the  roode-bem  : 

Al  is  his  tombe  nought  so  curious 

As  was  the  sepulcre  of  him  Darius,  cuso 

Which  that  Appellus  wrought  so  subtily. 

It  nys  but  wast  to  burie  him  preciously. 

Let  him  farwel,  God  give  his  soule  rest, 

He  is  now  in  his  grave  and  in  his  chest. 

"  Now  of  my  fifte  housbond  wol  I  telle  : 
God  let  his  soule  never  come  in  helle  ! 
And  yet  was  he  to  me  the  moste  schrewe, 
That  fele  I  on  my  ribbes  alle  on  rewe, 
And  ever  schal,  unto  myn  endyng  day. 
But  in  oure  bed  he  was  so  freisch  and  gay,  609O 

And  therwithal  so  wel  he  couthe  me  glose, 
Whan  that  he  wold  have  my  bele  chose, 
That,  though  he  had  me  bete  on  every  boon, 
He  couthe  wynne  my  love  right  anoon. 
I  trowe,  I  loved  him  beste,  for  that  he 
Was  of  his  love  daungerous  to  me. 
We  wymmen  han,  if  that  I  schal  nought  lye, 
In  this  matier  a  queynte  fantasie. 
Wayte,  what  thyng  we  may  not  lightly  have, 
Therafter  wol  we  sonnest  crie  and  crave.  6100 

Forbeed  us  thing,  and  that  desire  we  ; 
Pres  on  us  fast,  and  thanne  wol  we  fle. 
With  (liimigcr  itiitcn  idle  we  oure  ware; 
Greet  pres  at  market  makith  deer  chaffare, 


'200  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

And  to  greet  chep  is  holclen  at  litel  pris  ; 

This  knowith  every  womman  that  is  wys. 

My  fyfth  housbond,  God  his  soule  blesse, 

Which  that  I  took  for  love  and  no  richesse, 

He  som  tyme  was  a  clerk  of  Oxenford, 

And  had  left  scole,  and  went  at  hoom  to  horde     61 10 

With  my  gossib,  duellyng  in  oure  toun : 

God  have  hir  soule,  hir  name  was  Alisoun. 

Sche  knew  myn  herte  and  my  privete, 

Bet  than  oure  parisch  prest,  so  mot  I  the. 

To  hir  bywreyed  I  my  counseil  al ; 

For  had  myn  housbond  pissed  on  a  wal, 

Or  don  a  thing  that  schuld  have  cost  his  lif, 

To  hir,  and  to  another  worthy  wyf, 

And  to  my  neece,  which  I  loved  wel, 

I  wold  have  told  his  counseil  every  del.  si'-*0 

And  so  I  did  ful  ofte,  God  it  woot, 

That  made  his  face  ofte  reed  and  hoot 

For  verry  schame,  and  blamyd  himself,  that  he 

Had  told  to  me  so  gret  a  privete. 

And  so  byfel  that  oones  in  a  Lent, 

(So  ofte  tyme  to  my  gossib  I  went, 

For  ever  yit  I  loved  to  be  gay, 

And  for  to  walk  in  March,  Averil,  and  May 

From  hous  to  hous,  to  here  sondry  talis) 

That  Jankyn  clerk,  and  my  gossib  dame  Alis,       6130 

And  I  myself,  into  the  feldes  went. 

Myn  housbond  was  at  Londone  al  that  Lent ; 

1  had  the  bettir  leysir  for  to  pleye, 


THE  PR0L0GE  OF  THE  WYF  OF  BATHE.     207 

And  for  to  see,  and  eek  for  to  be  seye 

Of  lusty  folk  ;  what  wist  I  wher  my  grace 

Was  schapen  for  to  be,  or  in  what  place  ? 

Therfore  I  made  my  visitaciouns 

To  vigiles,  and  to  processiouns, 

To  prechings  eek,  and  to  this  pilgrimages, 

To  pleyes  of  miracles,  and  manages,  61 10 

And  wered  upon  my  gay  scarlet  gytes. 

These  wormes,  these  moughtes,  ne  these  mytes, 

Upon  my  perel  fretith  hem  never  a  deel, 

And  wostow  why?  for  thay  were  used  wel. 

Now  wol  I  telle  forth  what  happid  me  : 

I  say,  that  in  the  feldes  walkid  we, 

Til  trewely  we  had  such  daliaunce 

This  clerk  and  I,  that  of  my  purvyaunce 

I  spak  to  him,  and  sayde  how  that  he, 

If  I  were  wydow,  schulde  wedde  me.  615° 

For  certeynly,  I  say  for  no  bobaunce, 

Yit  was  I  never  withouten  purveyaunce 


6137. — visitaciouns.'   This  passage  appears  to  be  au  imitation  of  one 
cited  by  Tynvliitt  from   the  Roman  de  la  Rose, 

Souvent  voisc  a  la  mere  eglise, 

Et  face  visitations 

Aux  nopces,  aux  processions, 

Aux  jeux,  aux  festes,  aux  caroles. 
6110. — pleyes  of  miracles.  The  miracle  plays  were  favourite  occasions 
for  people  to  assemble  together  in  great  numbers.  In  a  tale  among  my 
Latin  Stories,  p.  100,  we  are  told  that  some  pilgrims  saw,  in  a  very  large 
meadow,  "  maximam  multitudinem  hominiun  congregatam,  quos  nunc 
silentes,  nunc  acclamantes,  nunc  cachinnantes  audiebant,  Admirantes 
igitur  quare  in  loco  tali  tanta  csset  honununi  adanatio,  eestiniabanl  ibi 
spectacula  celebrare  quae  nos  miiacula  appellare  consuevimus."  This 
is  a  good  description  of  the  assemblage  at  a  miracle  play. 


268  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Of  manage,  ne  of  no  thinges  eeke  : 

I  hold  a  mouses  hert  not  worth  a  leek, 

That  hath  hut  oon  hole  to  sterte  to, 

And  if  that  faile,  than  is  al  i-do. 

[I  hare  him  on  hond  he  had  enchanted  me ; 

(My  dame  taughte  me  that  suhtiltee) 

And  eke  I  sayd,  I  met  of  him  all  night, 

He  wold  han  slain  me,  as  I  lay  upright,  616° 

And  all  my  bed  was  ful  of  veray  blood ; 

But  yet  I  hope  that  ye  shuln  do  me  good  : 

For  blood  betokeneth  gold,  as  me  was  taught, 

And  al  was  false,  I  dremed  of  him  right  naught, 

But  as  I  folwecl  ay  my  dames  lore, 

As  wel  of  that  as  of  other  thinges  more.] 

But  now,  sir,  let  me  se,  what  I  schal  sayn  : 

A  ha  !  by  God,  I  have  my  tale  agayn. 

"  Whan  that  my  fourthe  housbond  was  on  bere, 
I  wept  algate  and  made  a  sory  cheere,  6l70 

As  wyves  mooten,  for  it  is  usage  ; 
And  with  my  kerchief  covered  my  visage  ; 

61u4. — a  mouses  hert.  This  was  a  very  common  proverb.  It  is  found 
in  French :  the  following  example  is  taken  from  a  MS.  of  the  thirteenth 
century  : — 

Dolente  la  souris, 

Qui  ne  set  qu'un  seul  pertuis. 
It  also  occurs  in  German, — 

Dass  ist  wol  eine  arme  Maus, 

Die  nur  weiss  zu  einem  Loch'  hinaus. 
The  same  proverb  is  said  of  a  fox  in  German.      There  was  an  ancient 
Latin  proverb  to  the  same  effect. 

0157. — This,  and  the  nine  following  lines,  are  omitted  in  the  Harl.  MS. 
and  others.  The  second  Cambridge  MS.  has  them.  They  are  here 
printed  from  Tvnvhitt. 


THE  FR0L0GE  OF  THE  WYF  OF  BATHE.     269 

But,  for  that  I  was  purveyed  of  a  make, 

I  wept  but  smal,  and  that  I  undertake. 

To  chirche  was  myn  housbond  brought  .on  morwe 

With  neighebors  that  for  him  made  sorwe, 

And  Jankyn  oure  clerk  was  oon  of  tho  : 

As  help  me  God,  whan  that  I  saugh  him  go 

After  the  beere,  me  thought  he  had  a  paire 

Of  legges  and  of  feet,  so  cdene  and  faire,  6180 

That  al  myn  hert  I  gaf  unto  his  hold. 

He  was,  I  trowe,  twenty  wynter  old, 

And  I  was  fourty,  if  I  schal  say  the  sothe, 

But  yit  I  had  alway  a  coltis  tothe. 

Gattothid  I  was,  and  that  bycom  me  wel, 

I  had  the  prynte  of  seynt  Venus  sel. 

[As  helpe  me  God,  I  was  a  lusty  oon, 

And  faire,  and  riche,  and  yonge,  and  wel  begon  : 

And  trewely,  as  myn  housbonds  tolde  me, 

I  had  the  best  queynt  that  might  be.  6190 

For  certes  I  am  all  venerian 

In  felyng,  and  my  herte  is  marcian  : 

Venus  me  gave  my  lust  and  likerousnesse, 

And  Mars  gave  me  my  sturdy  hardinesse.] 

Myn  ascent  was  Taur,  and  Mars  therinne  : 

Alias,  alas,  that  ever  love  was  synne  ! 

I  folwed  ay  myn  inclinaeioun 


6187.— The  Harl.  MS.  omits  11.  6187—6191,  and  6201—6208.  The 
second  Cambridge  MS.  is  the  only  one  I  have  collated  which  contains 
them  all.  The  Lansd.  and  first  Cambridge  MSS.  have  only  11.  6187—6190. 
I  have  taken  them  from  Tyrwhitt,  collated  with  the  MSS. 


270  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

By  vertu  of  my  constillaeioun  : 

That  made  me  that  I  couthe  nought  withdrawe 

My  chambre  of  Venus  from  a  good  felawe.  6200 

[Yet  have  I  Martes  marke  uppon  my  face, 

And  also  in  another  prive  place. 

For  God  so  wisly  be  my  salvacioun, 

I  loved  never  by  no  discretioun, 

But  ever  folwed  myn  owne  appetit, 

All  were  he  shorte,  longe,  blake,  or  whit ; 

I  toke  no  kepe,  so  that  he  liked  me, 

How  povre  he  was,  ne  eek  of  what  degre.] 

What  schuld  I  say  ?  but  at  the  monthis  ende 

This  joly  clerk  Jankyn,  that  was  so  heende,  6210 

Hath  weddid  me  with  gret  solempnitee, 

And  to  him  gaf  I  al  the  lond  and  fee 

That  ever  was  me  give  therbifore  : 

But  aftirward  repented  me  ful  sore. 

He  nolde  suffre  nothing  of  my  list. 

By  God,  he  smot  me  oones  with  Ins  fist, 

For  I  rent  oones  out  of  his  book  a  lef, 

That  of  that  strok  myn  eere  wax  al  deef. 

Styborn  I  was,  as  is  a  lebnes, 

And  of  my  tonge  a  verray  jangleres,  "--" 

And  walk  I  wold,  as  I  had  don  biforn, 

Fro  hous  to  hous,  although  he  had  it  sworn  : 

For  which  he  ofte  tymes  wolde  preche, 

And  me  of  olde  Romayn  gestes  teche. 

How  he  Simplicius  Gallus  left  his  wyf, 


022-5. — Simplicius  Gallus.     This  story  is  taken  from  Val.  Max.  vi,  3. 


THE    PROLOGE    OF    THE    WYF    OF    BATHE.  271 

And  hir  forsok  for  terme  of  al  his  lyf, 

Nought  hut  for  open  heedid  he  hir  say 

Lokyng  out  at  his  dore  upon  a  day. 

Another  Eomayn  told  he  me  hy  name, 

That,  for  his  wyf  was  at  a  somer  game  6230 

Without  his  wit}Tng,  he  forsok  hir  eeke. 

And  thanne  wold  he  upon  his  hook  seeke 

That  ilke  proverhe  of  Ecclesiaste, 

Wher  he  comaundith,  and  forbedith  faste, 

Man  schal  not  suffre  his  wyf  go  roule  ahoute. 

Than  wold  he  say  right  thus  withouten  doute : 

Who  that  huyldeth  his  hous  al  of  salwes, 
And  priketh  his  blynde  hors  over  the  falwes, 
And  suffrith  his  wyf  to  go  seken  halwes, 
Is  worthy  to  be  honged  on  the  galwes. 

But  al  for  nought,  I  sette  nought  an  hawe  <5'-10 

Of  his  proverhe,  ne  of  his  olde  sawe  ; 

Ne  I  wold  not  of  him  corretted  be. 

I  hate  him  that  my  vices  tellith  me, 

And  so  doon  mo,  God  it  wot,  than  I. 

This  made  him  with  me  wood  al  outerly ; 

I  nolde  not  forbere  him  in  no  cas. 

Now  wol  I  say  yow  soth,  by  seint  Thomas, 

Why  that  I  rent  out  of  the  book  a  leef, 

For  which  he  smot  me,  that  I  was  al  deef.  6250 

He  had  a  book,  that  gladly  night  and  day 


6229 — Another  Romayn.     SemprooiuB  Sophus,  of  whom  this  story 
is  told  hv  Val.  Mux.  loc.  cit.     Valerias  Maxim  its  was  ;i  favourite  among 

(lie  scholars  of  the  Middle  A"CS. 


272  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

For  his  desport  he  wolde  rede  alway. 

He  clepyd  it  Valerye,  and  Theofrast, 

At  which  book  he  lough  alway  ful  fast. 

And  eek  ther  was  som  tyme  a  clerk  at  Rome, 

A  cardynal,  that  heet  seint  Jerome, 

That  made  a  book  agens  Jovynyan. 

In  which  book  eek  ther  was  Tertulyan, 

Crisippus,  Tortula,  and  eek  Helewys, 

That  was  abbas  not  fer  fro  Paris  ;  6-60 

And  eek  the  parablis  of  Salamon, 

Ovydes  Art,  and  bourdes  many  oon ; 

And  alle  these  were  bounde  in  oo  volume. 

And  every  night  and  day  was  his  custume, 

Whan  he  had  leysir  and  vacacioun 

From  other  worldes  occupacioun, 

To  reden  in  this  book  of  wikked  wyves. 

He  knew  of  hem  mo  legendes  and  lyves, 

Than  ben  of  goode  wyves  in  the  Bible. 

For  trustith  wel,  it  is  an  inpossible,  6^70 

That  any  clerk  schal  speke  good  of  wyves, 

But  if  it  be  of  holy  seintes  lyves, 


6253. — The  tract  of  Walter  Mapes  against  marriage,  published  under 
the  title  of  Epistola  Valcrii  ad  Rujinum,  is  common  in  manuscripts. 
Jerome,  in  his  book  contra  Jovinanum,  a  bitter  diatribe  against  matri- 
mony, quotes  a  long  extract  from  liber  aureohts  Theophrasli  de  nuptiis. 
"As  to  the  rest  of  the  contents  of  the  'clerkes'  volume,  Hieronyraus 
contra  J ovinianum,  and  Tertullian  de  Pallio,  are  sufficiently  known;  and 
so  are  the  Letters  of  Eloisa  and  Abelard,  the  Parables  of  Solomon,  and 
Ovid's  Art  of  Love.  I  know  of  no  Trotula,  but  one,  whose  book  Curand- 
arum  (cgritudinum  muliebrium  ante,  in,  et  post  partum,  is  printed  int. 
Medicos  antiqnos,  Yen.  1517.  Who  is  meant  by  Crisippus  1  cannot 
guess." — Ti/rwh  iit. 


THE    PROLOG-E    OF    TTTF.    YVYF    OF    BATHE.  273 

Ne  of  noon  other  wyfes  never  the  mo. 

Who  peyntid  the  leoun,  tel  me,  who  ? 

By  God,  if  wommen  hackle  writen  stories, 

As.clerkes  have  withinne  her  oratories, 

Thay  wold  have  write  of  men  more  wickidnes, 

Than  al  the  mark  of  Adam  may  redres. 

These  children  of  Mercury  and  of  Venus 

Ben  in  her  werkyng  ful  contrarious.  6280 

Mercury  lovith  wisdom  and  science, 

And  Venus  loveth  ryot  and  dispense. 

And  for  her  divers  disposicioun, 

Ech  fallith  in  otheres  exaltacioun. 

And  thus,  God  wot,  Mercury  is  desolate 

In  Pisses,  wher  Venus  is  exaltate, 

And  Venus  faylith  wher  Mercury  is  reysed. 

Therfor  no  womman  of  clerkes  is  preised. 


6279 — of  Mercury  and  of  Venus.  An  old  astrological  treatise  of  the 
sixteenth  century  informs  us  that  "  Venus,  .signifiefhe  white  men  or 
browne... joy  full,  laughter,  liberall,  pleasers,  dauncers,  entertayners  of 
women,  players,  perfumers,  musitions,  messengers  of  love."  Mercury, 
according  to  the  same  authority,  "  signifieth... subtil]  men,  ingenious,  un- 
constant,  rymers,  poets,  advocates,  orators,  philosophers,  soothsayers, 
arithmeticians,  and  busie  fcllowes." 

6284 — exaltacioun.     Tyrwhitt  gives  the  following  explanation  of  this 
term.  "  In  the  old  astrology, a  planet  was  said  to  be  in  its  exaltation,  when 
it  was  in  that  sign  of  the  Zodiac  in  which  it  was  supposed   to  exert  its 
strongest  influence.     The  opposite  sign  was  called  its  dejection,  as  in  that 
it  was  supposed  to  be  weakest.      To  take  the  instance  in  the  text,  the  ex- 
altation of  Venus  was  in  Pisces  (see  also  ver.  10587),  and  her  dejection  of 
course  in  Virgo.     But  in    Virgo  was  the  exaltation  of  Mercury. 
She  is  the  wcllhe  and  the  rysynge, 
The  lust,  the  joy,  and  the  lykynge, 
Unto  Mercury- — 
Gower,  Conf.  Am.  1.  vii.  fol.  1 17.      So  in  ver.   10098,  Cancer  i.  called 
Joves  exaltacioun." 


274  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

The  clerk  whan  he  is  old,  and  may  nought  do 

Of  Venus  werkis,  is  not  worth  a  scho  ;  c'290 

Than  sit  he  doun,  and  writ  in  his  dotage, 

That  wommen  can  nought  kepe  here  mariage. 

But  now  to  purpos,  why  I  tolde  the, 

That  I  was  beten  for  a  leef,  parde. 

Upon  a  night  Jankyn,  that  was  oure  sire, 

Rad  on  his  book,  as  he  sat  by  the  fyre, 

Of  Eva  first,  that  for  hir  wikkidnes 

Was  al  mankynde  brought  to  wrecchednes, 

[For  which  that  Jhesu  Crist  himself  was  slayn, 

That  bought  us  with  his  herte-blood  agayn.  030° 

Lo  here  expresse  of  wommen  may  ye  fynde, 

That  woman  was  the  losse  of  al  mankynde.] 

Tho  rad  he  me  how  Sampson  left  his  heris 

Slepyng,  his  lemman  kut  hem  with  hir  scheris, 

Thurgh  which  tresoun  lost  he  bothe  his  yen. 

Tho  rad  he  me,  if  that  I  schal  not  lyen, 

Of  Ercules,  and  of  his  Dejanyre, 

That  caused  him  to  sette  himself  on  fuyre. 

No  thing  forgat  he  the  care  and  wo 

That  Socrates  had  with  his  wyves  tuo  ;  (531° 

How  Exautipa  cast  pisse  upon  his  heed. 


(!"2!>Q. — This  and  the  three  following  lines  are  omitted  in  most  of  the 
MSS.  I  have  consulted. 

6303. — Tho  rad  he.  The  following  examples  are  mostly  taken  from 
the  E pis  tola  lralerii  ad  Rufimim,  and  from  the  Roman  de  la  Rose. 

0311. — Exantipa.  Xautippe.  In  the  other  proper  names  in  the  follow- 
ing lines  I  have  retained  the  corrupt  orthography  of  the  age,  as  given  in 
the  MS.  Phasipha  is,  of  course,  Tasiphae;  Clydamystra,  Clitemnestra ; 
Amphiores,  Amphiorax;   Exiphilcm,  Eriphile,  etc. 


THE  FR0L0GE  OF  THE  WYF  OF  BATHE.     275 

This  seely  man  sat  stille,  as  he  were  deed, 

He  wyped  his  heed,  no  more  durst  he  sayn, 

But,  '  Er  thunder  stynte  ther  cometh  rayn.' 

Of  Phasipha,  that  was  the  queen  of  Creete, 

For  schrewednes  him  thought  the  tale  sweete. 

Fy  !   spek  no  more,  it  is  a  grisly  thing, 

Of  her  horribil  lust  and  her  likyng. 

Of  Clydemystra  for  hir  leccherie 

That  falsly  made  hir  housbond  for  to  dye,  63"20 

He  rad  it  with  ful  good  devocioun 

He  told  me  eek,  for  what  occasioun 

Amphiores  at  Thebes  left  his  lif : 

Myn  housbond  had  a  legend  of  his  \vyf 

Exiphilem,  that  for  an  ouche  of  gold 

ILith  prively  unto  the  Grekes  told 

Wher  that  hir  housbond  hyd  him  in  a  place, 

For  which  he  had  at  Thebes  sory  grace. 

Of  Lyma  told  he  me,  and  of  Lucye  : 

Thay  bothe  made  her  housbondes  for  to  dye,  6 ;::" 

That  oon  for  love,  that  other  was  for  hate. 

Lyma  hir  housbond  on  an  even  late 

Empoysond  hath,  for  that  sche  was  bis  fo : 

Lucia  licorous  loved  hir  housbond  so, 

For  that  he  schuld  aJway  upon  hir  think, 

Sche  gaf  him  such  a  maner  love-drink. 


63-i9. — Lyma.  In  the  Latin  story  (in  the  Epist.  I  raler.  ml  T&vfin.)  the  name 
is  I/una,  which  appears  first  to  have  been  mistaken  for  Limn,  ami  then 
written  Lyma.  So  the  scribes  in  1.  6708,  have  read  TJamit  for  !><uiui, 
ami  afterwards  written  it  Damyt,  which  is  found  in  one  of  the  Cambridge 
MSS. 

t2 


270  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

That  he  was  deed  er  it  was  by  the  monve : 

And  thus  algates  housbondes  had  sorwe. 

Than  told  he  me,  how  oon  Latumyus 

Compleigned  unto  his  felaw  Arrius,  634° 

That  in  his  gardyn  growed  such  a  tre, 

On  which  he  sayde  how  that  his  wyves  thre 

Honged  heniselfe  for  herte  despitous. 

'  0  leve  brother,'  quod  this  Arrious, 

'  Gif  me  a  plont  of  thilke  blessid  tre, 
And  in  my  gardyn  schal  it  plantid  be.' 
Of  latter  date  of  wyves  hath  he  red 
That  some  han  slayn  her  housbondes  in  her  bed, 
And  let  her  lecchour  dighten  al  the  night, 
Whil  that  the  corps  lay  in  the  nor  upright :  C350 

And  some  han  dryven  nayles  in  her  brawn, 
Whiles  thay  sleepe,  and  thus  thay  han  hem  slayn  : 
Som  have  hem  give  poysoun  in  her  drink : 
He  spak  more  harm  than  herte  may  bythynk. 
And  therwithal  he  knew  mo  proverbes, 
Than  in  this  world  ther  growen  gres  or  herbes, 
Better  is,  quod  he,  thyn  habitacioun 
Be  with  a  leoun,  or  a  foul  dragoun, 
Than  with  a  womman  usyng  for  to.  chyde. 
Better  is,  quod  he,  hihe  in  the  roof  abyde,  6360 

Than  with  au  angry  womman  doun  in  a  hous  : 


6355. — mo  proverbes.  See  Prov.  xxi,  9,  19,  and  xi,  22.  Tyrwhitt 
observes  that  the  observation  in  1.  C364  is  found  in  Herodotus,  lib.  i,p.  5. 
It  is  however  found  in  various  medieval  writers,  from  whom  Chaucer 
might  have  taken  it.. 


THE  PR0L0GE  OF  THE  WYF  OF  BATHE.     277 

Thay  ben  so  wicked  and  so  contrarious, 
Thay  haten  that  her  housbondes  loven  ay. 
He  sayd,  a  womman  cast  hir  schame  away, 
Whan  sche  cast  of  hir  smok  ;  and  forthernio, 
A  fair  womman,  but  sche  be  chast  also, 
Is  lik  a  gold  ryng  in  a  sowes  nose. 
Who  wolde  wene,  or  who  wolde  suppose 
The  wo  that  in  myn  herte  was  and  pyne  ? 
And  whan  I  saugh  he  nolde  never  fyne  6370 

To  reden  on  this  cursed  book  al  night, 
Al  sodeinly  thre  leves  have  I  plight 
Out  of  this  booke  that  he  had,  and  eeke 
I  with  my  fist  so  took  him  on  the  cheeke, 
That  in  oure  fuyr  he  fel  bak-ward  adoun. 
And  he  upstert,  as  doth  a  wood  leoun, 
And  with  his  fist  he  smot  me  on  the  lied, 
That  in  the  floor  I  lay  as  I  were  deed. 
And  whan  he  saugh  so  stille  that  I  lay, 
He  was  agast,  and  wold  have  fled  away.  6^80 

Til  atte  last  out  of  my  swown  I  brayde. 
'  0,  hastow  slayn  me,  false  thef  ?'  I  sayde, 
'  And  for  my  lond  thus  hastow  mourdrid  me? 
Er  I  be  deed,  yit  wol  I  kisse  the.' 
And  ncr  he  cam,  and  knelith  faire  adoun, 
And  sayde,  '  Deere  suster  Alisoun, 
As  help  me  God,  I  schal  the  never  smyte  : 
That  I  have  doon  it  is  thiself  to  wite, 
Forgive  it  me,  and  that  1  the  biseke.' 
And  vet  eftsones  I  bvt  him  on  the  cheke,  8390 


278  THE    CANTERBURY   TALES. 

And  sayde,  '  Thef,  thus  niekil  I  me  wreke. 

Now  wol  I  dye.,  I  may  no  lenger  speke.' 

But  atte  last,  with  mochil  care  and  wo, 

We  fyl  accordid  by  oureselven  tuo  : 

He  gaf  me  al  the  bridil  in  myn  hand 

To  have  the  governaunce  of  hous  and  land, 

And  of  his  tonge,  and  of  his  hond  also, 

And  made  him  brenne  his  book  anoon  right  tlio. 

And  whan  I  hadde  geten  unto  me 

By  maistry  al  the  sovereynete  ;  64°o 

And  that  he  sayde,  '  Myn  owne  trewe  wif, 

Do  as  the  list,  the  term  of  al  thy  lif, 

Kepe  thyn  honour,  and  kep  eek  myn  estat' ; 

And  after  that  day  we  never  had  debat. 

God  help  me  so,  I  was  to  him  as  kynde 

As  eny  wyf  fro  Denmark  unto  Inde, 

And  al  so  trewe  was  he  unto  me  : 

I  pray  to  God  that  sitte  in  mageste 

So  blesse  his  soule,  for  his  mercy  deere. 

Now  wol  I  say  my  tale  if  ye  wol  heere."  ('110 

The  Frere  lough  whan  he  had  herd  al  this : 
"  Now,  dame,"  quod  he,  "  so  have  I  joye  and  blis, 

This  is  a  long  preambel  of  a  tale." 

And  whan  the  Sompnour  herd  the  Frere  gale, 
"  Lo !"  quod  this  Sompnour,  "  for  Goddes  amies  tuo, 

A  frer  wol  entremet  him  evermo  : 

Lo,  goode  men,  a  flie  and  eek  a  frere 

Woln  falle  in  every  dissche  and  matiere. 

What  spekst  thou  of  perambulacioun  ? 


THE    WYF    OF    BATHES    TALE.  279 

What?  ambil,  or  trot;  or  pees,  or  go  sit  cloun;    0J2° 

Thou  lettest  oure  disport  in  this  matere." 
"Ye,  woltow  so,  sir  sompnour!"  quod  the  Frere : 
"  Now,  by  my  fay,  I  schal,  er  that  I  go, 

Telle  of  a  sompnour  such  a  tale  or  tuo, 

That  alle  the  folk  sehuln  laughen  in  this  place." 
'•  Now,  ellis,  frere,  I  byschrew  thy  face." 

Quod  this  Sompnour,  "  and  I  byschrewe  me, 

But  if  I  telle  tales  tuo  or  thre 

Of  freres,  er  I  come  to  Sydinghorne, 

That  I  schal  make  thin  herte  for  to  morne  :  G430 

For  wel  I  wot  thi  paciens  is  goon." 

Oure  hoste  cride,  "  pees,  and  that  anoon  ;" 

And  sayde,  "  Let  the  womman  telle  hir  tale. 

Ye  fare  as  folkes  that  dronken  ben  of  ale. 

Do,  dame,  tel  forth  your  tale,  and  that  is  best.' 
"  Al  redy,  sir,"  quod  sche,  "  right  as  you  lest, 

If  I  have  licence  of  this  worthy  frere." 
"  Yis,  dame,"  quod  he,  "  tel  forth,  and  I  schal  heere 

HIE    WYF    OF    BATHES    TALE. 

In  olde  dayes  of  the  kyng  Arthour,  (ilin 

Of  which  that  Britouns  speken  gret  honour. 


6429. — Sydinghorne.  Sittingboume,  about  halfway  between  Roches- 
ter  ami  Canterbury. 

The  wyf  of  Bathe*  tale.  The  source  from  which  Chaucer  took  this 
story  is  somewhat  uncertain,  but  it  was  very  probably  the  subject  of  a 
French  lay.  Percy  printed  a  ballad  entitled  The  Marriage  of  Sir 
Gawaine,  which  is  founded  on  the  same  plot.  The  story  of  Florent,  in 
Gower,  Conf.  Amant.,  booh  i.  bears  a  close  resi  mblance  to  it, 


280  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Al  was  this  loncl  fulfilled  of  fayrie  ; 

The  elf-queen,  with  hir  July  compaignye, 

Daimcecl  ful  oft  in  many  a  grene  mecle. 

Tliis  was  the  old  oppynyoun  as  I  rede ; 

I  speke  of  many  hundrid  yer  ago  ; 

But  now  can  no  man  see  noon  elves  mo. 

For  now  the  grete  charite  and  prayeres 

Of  lymytours  and  other  holy  freres, 

That  sechen  every  lond  and  every  streem, 

As  thik  as  motis  in  the  sonne-heem,  6150 

Blessynge  halles,  chamhres,  kichenes,  and  boures, 

Citees  and  burghes,  castels  hihe  and  toures, 

Thropes  and  bernes,  shepnes  and  dayeries, 

That  makith  that  ther  ben  no  fayeries. 

For  ther  as  wont  was  to  walken  an  elf, 

Ther  walkith  noon  but  the  lymytour  himself, 

In  undermeles  and  in  morwenynges, 

And  saith  his  matyns  and  his  holy  thinges 

As  he  goth  in  lxis  lymytacioun. 

Wommen  may  now  go  saufly  up  and  doun,  6i60 

In  every  bussch,  and  under  every  tre, 

Ther  is  non  other  incubus  but  he, 

And  he  ne  wol  doon  hem  no  dishonour. 

And  so  bifel  it,  that  this  lung  Arthour 
Had  in  his  hous  a  lusty  bacheler, 


6163.  The  MS.  Harl,  Tends  tliis  line,  evidently  incorrectly,  And  ne 
wol  but  doon  hem  dishonour.  In  the  previous  line,  the  same  manuscript 
reads  erroneously  incumbent  instead  of  incubus. 


THE    WYF    OF    BATHES    TALE.  '28  L 

That  on  a  day  com  rydyng  fro  ryver  : 
And  happed,  al  alone  as  sche  was  horn, 
He  saugh  a  mayde  walkyng  him  byforn, 
Of  which  mayden  anoon,  maugre  hir  heed, 
By  verray  fors  hyraft  hir  maydenhed.  6470 

For  which  oppressioun  was  such  clamour, 
And  such  pursuyte  unto  kyng  Arthour, 
That  dampned  was  the  knight  and  schuld  be  ded 
By  corn's  of  lawe,  and  schuld  have  lost  his  heed, 
(Paraventure  such  was  the  statut  tho,) 
But  that  the  queen  and  other  ladys  mo 
So  longe  preyeden  thay  the  kyng  of  grace, 
Til  he  his  lif  hath  graunted  in  the  place, 
And  gaf  him  to  the  queen,  al  at  hir  wille 
To  chese  wethir  sche  wold  him  save  or  spille.       6^8(5 
The  queen  thanked  the  kyng  with  al  hir  might ; 
And  after  thus  sche  spak  unto  the  knight, 
Whan  that  sche  saugh  hir  tyme  upon  a  day : 
1  Thow  stondest  yet,"  quod  sche,  "  in  such  array, 
That  of  thy  lyf  hastow  no  sewerte  ; 
I  graunte  thy  lif,  if  thou  canst  telle  me, 
What  thing  is  it  that  wommen  most  desiren  : 
Be  war,  and  keep  thy  nek-hon  fro  the  iren. 
And  if  thou  canst  not  tellen  it  anoon, 


6106.— fro  ryver.  From  hawking.  Con/.,  1.  13665.  Tyrwhitt  has 
given  several  examples  of  the  same  phrase  as  used  in  French  by  Frois- 
sart, — "  Le  Comte  de  Flandres  estoit  tousjours  en  riviere"  (v.  i,  c.  140) 
....King  Edward  "  alloit  chacun  jour  on  en  chace  on  en  riviere.'' 
(ih.  c.  210). 


982  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Yet  wol  I  give  the  leve  for  to  goon  04°o 

A  twelfmonth  and  a  day,  it  for  to  lere 

An  answar  suffisaunt  in  this  matiere. 

And  seurte  wol  I  have,  er  that  thou  pace, 

Thy  hody  for  to  yelden  in  this  place." 

Wo  was  this  knight,  and  sorwfully  he  siked  ; 

But  what  ?  he  may  not  doon  al  as  him  liked. 

And  atte  last  he  ches  him  for  to  wende, 

And  come  agein  right  at  the  yeres  endc 

With  swich  answer  as  God  him  wolde  purveye : 

And  takith  his  leve,  and  wendith  forth  his  weye.    8500 

He  sekith  every  hous  and  every  place, 

Wher  so  he  hopith  for  to  fynde  grace, 

To  lerne  what  thing  wommen  loven  most : 

But  he  ne  couthe  arryven  in  no  cost, 

Wher  as  he  mighte  fynde  in  this  matiere 

Two  creatures  accordyng  in  fere. 

Some  sayclen,  wommen  loven  best  richesse, 

Some  sayde  honour,  and  some  sayde  jolynesse, 

Some  riche  array,,  some  sayden  lust  on  beddc, 

And  ofte  tyme  to  be  wydow  and  wedde.  6510 

Some  sayden  owre  herte  is  most  i-eased 

Whan  we  ben  y-flaterid  and  y-preised : 

He  goth  ful  neigh  the  soth,  I  wil  not  lye; 

A  man  schal  wynne  us  best  with  flaterye; 


0506. — Two  creatures.  The  Harl.  MS.  reads,  To  these  thinges  accordyng 
in  fere. 

(5512 — y-preisid.  The  Harl.  MS.  reads, y-pleased,  but  the  reading  I 
have  adopted  seems  to  give  the  best  sense. 


THE  WYF  OF  BATHES  TALE.  283 

And  with  attendaunce,  and  with  busynesse 

Ben  we  y-limed  both  more  and  lesse. 

And  some  sayen,  that  we  loven  best 

For  to  be  fre,  and  to  doon  as  us  lest, 

And  that  no  man  repreve  us  of  oure  vice, 

But  say  that  we  ben  wys,  and  no  thing  nyce.         6530 

For  trewely  ther  is  noon  of  us  alle, 

If  eny  wight  wold  claw  us  on  the  galle, 

That  we  nyl  like,  for  he  saith  us  soth : 

Assay,  and  he  schal  fynd  it,  that  so  doth. 

For  be  we  never  so  vicious  withinne, 

We  schuln  be  holde  wys  and  clene  of  synne. 

And  some  sayen,  that  gret  delit  ban  we 

For  to  be  holden  stabil  and  secre, 

And  in  oon  purpos  stedfastly  to  duelle, 

And  nought  bywreye  thing  that  men  us  telle.        *>530 

But  that  tale  is  not  worth  a  rakes  stele. 

Pardy,  we  wymmen  can  right  no  thing  hele, 

Witnes  on  Mida;  wil  ye  here  the  tale? 

Ovyd,  among  his  other  thinges  smale, 

Sayde,  Mida  had  under  his  lange  heris 

Growyng  upon  his  heed  tuo  asses  eeris; 

The  whiche  vice  he  hid,  as  he  best  might, 

Ful  subtilly  fro  every  mannes  sight, 

That,  save  his  wyf,  ther  wist  of  that  nomo; 

He  loved  hir  most,  and  trusted  hir  also;  6540 


0523. — like.      Tyrwhitt    rca<l>   kike;   but  tbe   best   I\ISS,    I  have  con 
Milled  agree  in  like,  <>r  lake,  the  former  being  the  reading  oi   MS.  Harl. 


284  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

He  prayed  hir,  that  to  no  creature 
Sche  schulde  tellen  of  his  disfigure. 
Sche  swor  him,  nay,  for  al  this  world  to  wynne, 
Sche  nolde  do  that  vilonye,  or  synne, 
To  make  hir  houshand  have  so  foul  a  name : 
Sche  wold  not  tel  it  for  hir  oughne  schame. 
But  natheles  hir  thoughte  that  sche  dyde, 
That  sche  so  long  a  counseil  scholde  hyde ; 
Hir  thought  it  swal  so  sore  ahout  hir  hert, 
That  needely  som  word  hir  most  astert;  6550 

And  sins  sche  dorst  not  tel  it  unto  man, 
Doun  to  a  marreys  faste  by  sche  ran, 
Til  sche  cam  ther,  hir  herte  was  on  fuyre : 
And  as  a  bytoure  humblith  in  the  rnyre, 
Sche  layd  hir  mouth  unto  the  water  doun. 
'  Bywrey  me  not,  thou  watir,  with  thi  souu,' 
Quod  sche,  '  to  the  I  telle  it,  and  nomo, 
Myn  housbond  hath  long  asse  eeris  tuo. 
Now  is  myn  hert  al  hool,  now  is  it  oute, 
I  might  no  lenger  kepe  it  out  of  doute.'  656° 

Her  may  ye  se,  theigh  we  a  tyme  abyde, 
Yet  out  it  moot,  we  can  no  counseil  hyde. 
The  remenaunt  of  the  tale,  if  ye  wil  here, 
Redith  Ovid,  and  ther  ye  mow  it  leere. 

This  knight,  of  which  my  tale  is  specially, 
Whan  that  he  saugh  he  might  nought  come  therby, 
This  is  to  say,  that  wommen  loven  most, 
Withinne  his  brest  ful  sorwful  was  the  gost. 
But  bom  he  goth,  he  might  not  longer  sojourne, 


THE  WYF  OF  BATHES  TALE.  285 

The  clay  was  come,  that  hom-ward  most  he  tome.  C57° 

And  in  his  way,  it  hapnyd  him  to  ride 

In  al  his  care,  under  a  forest  side, 

Wher  as  he  saugh  upon  a  daunce  go 

Of  ladys  four  and  twenty,  and  yit  mo. 

Toward  this  ilke  daunce  he  drough  ful  yerne, 

In  hope  that  he  som  wisdom  schuld  iderne; 

But  certeynly,  er  he  com  fully  there, 

Vanysshid  was  this  daunce,  he  nyste  where; 

No  creature  saugh  he  that  bar  lif, 

Sauf  on  the  greene  he  saugh  sittyng  a  wyf,  (5'/>80 

A  fouler  wight  ther  may  no  man  devyse. 

Agens  the  knight  this  olde  wyf  gan  ryse, 

And  sayd,  "  Sir  knight,  heer  forth  lith  no  way. 

Tel  me  what  ye  seekyn,  by  your  fay. 

Paradventure  it  may  the  better  be : 

Thise  olde  folk  con  mochil  thing,"  quod  sche. 

;  My  lieve  modir,"  quod  this  knight,  "  certayn, 
I  am  but  ded  but  if  that  I  can  sayn 
What  thing  is  it  that  wommen  most  desire: 
Couthe  ye  me  wisse,  I  wold  wel  quyt  your  huyre."  csoo 

•  Plight  me  thy  trouth  her  in  myn  bond,"  quod  sche, 

■  The  nexte  thing  that  I  require  the, 
Thou  schalt  it  doo,  if  it  be  in  thy  might, 
And  I  wol  telle  it  the,  er  it  be  night." 

■  Have  her  my  trouthe,"  quod  the  knight,  "  I  graunte." 
'Thanne,"  quod  sche,  "  1  dar  me  wel  avaunte, 

Thy  lif  is  sauf,  for  1  wel  stonde  therby, 
Upon  my  lif  die  queen  wol  say  as  I: 


286  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Let  se,  which  is  the  proudest  of  hem  alle, 

That  werith  on  a  coverchief  or  a  calle,  cc0° 

That  dar  say  nay  of  tiling  I  schal  the  teche. 

Let  us  go  forth  withouten  more  speche." 

Tho  rowned  sche  a  pistil  in  his  eere, 

And  had  him  to  be  glad,  and  have  no  fere. 

Whan  thay  hen  comen  to  the  court,  this  knight 

Sayd,  be  had  holde  his  day,  that  he  hight, 

Al  redy  was  his  answer,  as  he  sayde. 

Ful  many  a  noble  wyf,  and  many  a  mayde, 

And  many  a  wydow,  for  that  thay  ben  wyse, 

The  queen  hirself  sittyng  as  a  justise,  6610 

Assemblid  ben,  his  answer  for  to  hiere. 

And  after- ward  this  knight  was  bode  appiere : 

To  every  wight  comaundid  was  silence, 

And  that  the  knight  schuld  telle  in  audience, 

What  thing  that  worldly  wommen  loven  best. 

This  knight  ne  stood  not  stille,  as  doth  a  best, 
But  to  the  questioun  anoon  answer,1  e, 
With  manly  voys,  that  al  the  court  it  herde  : 

"My  liege  lady,  generally,"  quod  he, 

"  Wommen  desiren  to  have  soveraynte,  (i(i-° 

As  wel  over  hir  housbond  as  over  hir  love, 
And  for  to  be  in  maystry  him  above. 
This  is  your  most  desir,  though  ye  me  kille  ; 
Doth  as  yow  list,  I  am  heer  at  your  wille." 
In  al  the  court  ne  was  ther  wyf  ne  mayde, 
Ne  wydow,  that  contraried  that  he  sayde  ; 
But  sayclcn,  he  was  worthy  have  bis  lit'. 


THE  WYF  OF  BATHES  TALE.  287 

And  with  that  word  upstart  that  olde  wif, 

Which  that  the  knight  saugh  sittyng  on  the  grene. 

" Mercy,"  quod  sche,  "  my  soveraign  lady  queene,      663° 
Er  that  your  court  departe,  doth  me  right. 
I  taughte  this  answer  unto  the  knight, 
For  which  he  plighte  me  his  trouthe  there, 
The  firste  thing  that  I  wold  him  requere, 
He  wold  it  do,  if  it  lay  in  his  might. 
Before  this  court  then  pray  I  the,  sir  knight," 
Quod  sche,  "  that  thou  me  take  unto  thy  wif, 
For  wel  thou  wost,  that  I  have  kept  thy  lif : 
If  I  say  fals,  sey  nay,  upon  thy  fey." 
This  knight  answerd,  "  Alias  and  waylawey  !        664° 
I  wot  right  wel  that  such  was  my  byhest. 
For  Goddes  love,  as  chese  a  new  request : 
Tak  al  my  good,  and  let  my  body  go." 

"  Nay,"  quod  sche  than,  "  I  schrew  us  bothc  tuo. 
For  though  that  I  be  foule,  old,  and  pore, 
I  nolde  for  al  the  metal  ne  for  the  ore, 
That  under  erthe  is  grave,  or  lith  above, 
But  I  thy  wife  were  and  eek  thy  love." 

"My  love?"  quod  lie,  "nay,  nay,  my  dampnacioun. 
Alias  !   that  eny  of  my  nacioun  6650 

Schuld  ever  so  foule  disparagid  be !" 
But  al  for  nought ;  the  ende  is  this,  thai  he 
Constreigned  was,  Ik-  aeedes  most  liir  wedde, 
And  takith  liis  wyf,  and  goth  with  hir  to  bedde. 

Now  wolden  som  men  say  paradventurej 
Thai  Ini'  my  necgligence  F  '1"  qo  cure 


S88  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

To  telle  yow  the  joye  and  tharray 
That  at  that  fest  was  maad  that  ilke  day. 
To  which  thing  schortly  answeren  T  schal, 
And  say  ther  nas  feste  ne  joy  at  al,  Cfi60 

Ther  nas  but  hevynes  and  mochil  sorwe  : 
For  prively  he  weddyd  hir  in  a  morwe, 
And  alday  hudde  him  as  doth  an  oule, 
So  wo  was  him,  his  wyf  loked  so  foule. 
Gret  was  the  wo  the  knight  had  in  his  thought 
Whan  he  was  with  his  wyf  on  bedde  brought, 
He  walwith,  and  he  torneth  to  and  fro. 
His  olde  wyf  lay  smylyng  ever  mo, 
And  sayd,  "  0  cleere  housbond,  benedicite, 
Fareth  every  knight  with  his  wyf  as  ye  ?  6<37° 

Is  this  the  lawe  of  king  Arthures  hous  ? 
Is  every  knight  of  his  thus  daungerous  ? 
I  am  your  oughne  love,  and  eek  your  wyf, 
I  am  sche  that  hath  savyd  your  lyf, 
And  certes  ne  dede  I  yow  never  unright. 
Why  fare  ye  thus  with  me  the  firste  night? 
Ye  fare  lik  a  man  that  had  left  his  wit, 
What  is  my  gult  ?  for  Godes  love,  tel  me  it, 
And  it  schal  be  amendid,  if  that  I  may." 
"  Amendid  !"  quod  this  knight,  "  alias  !  nay,  nay, 
It  wol  nought  ben  amendid,  never  mo  ; 
Thow  art  so  lothly,  and  so  old  also, 
And  therto  comen  of  so  lowh  a  kynde, 
That  litil  wonder  is  though  I  walwe  and  wynde  ; 
So  wolde  God,  myn  herte  wolde  bresl  !" 


6680 


THE  WYF  OF  BATHES  TALE.  289 

"  Is  this,''  quod  sche,  "  the  cause  of  your  unrest?" 

"  Ye,  certeynly,"  quod  he,  "  no  wonder  is  !" 

"  Now  sire,"  quod  sche,  "  I  couthe  amende  al  this, 

If  that  me  list,  er  it  were  dayes  thre, 

So  wel  ye  mighte  here  yow  to  me.  669° 

But  for  ye  speken  of  such  gentilesse 

As  is  descendit  out  of  old  richesse, 

Therfor  schuld  ye  ben  holden  gentil  men  : 

Such  arrogaunce  is  not  worth  an  hen. 

Lok  who  that  is  most  vertuous  alway, 

Prive  and  pert,  and  most  entendith  ay 

To  do  the  gentil  dedes  that  he  can, 

Tak  him  for  the  grettest  gentil  man. 

Crist  wol  we  clayme  of  him  oure  gentilesse, 

Nought  of  oure  eldres  for  her  olde  richesse.  6700 

For  though  thay  give  us  al  her  heritage, 

For  which  we  clayme  to  he  of  high  parage, 

Yit  may  thay  not  biquethe,  for  no  thing, 

To  noon  of  us,  so  vertuous  lyvyng, 

That  made  hem  gentil  men  y-callid  be, 

And  bad  us  folwe  hem  in  such  degre. 

Wel  can  the  wyse  poet  of  Florence, 

That  hatte  Daunt,  speke  of  this  sentence  ; 

Lo,  in  such  maner  of  rym  is  Dauntcs  talc : 

Ful  seeld  uprisith  by  his  braunchis  smale  67I° 


6700. — her  olde.     The  Harl.  MS.  reads,  for  our  gret  richesse. 

C709. — Dauntes  talc.     The  words  of  Dante  [Purg.  vii,  121)  are:- 
Raile  volte  risurge  per  li  rami 
L'humana  probitate:  ct  questo  vuole 
Quei  che  la  da,  perche  da  se  si  eliianii. 

U 


'^90  THE   CANTERBURY    TALES, 

Prowes  of  man,  for  God  of  his  prowesse 

Wol  that  we  claime  of  him  our  gentilesse  : 

For  of  our  auncestres  we  no  thing  clayme 

But  temporal  thing,  that  men  may  hurt  and  mayme. 

Ek  every  wight  wot  this  as  wel  as  I, 

If  gentiles  were  plaunted  naturally 

Unto  a  certayn  lignage  doun  the  line, 

Prive  ne  apert,  thay  wolde  never  fine 

To  don  of  gentilesce  the  fair  office, 

Thay  might  nought  doon  no  vileny  or  vice.  6720 

Tak  fuyr  and  her  it  in  the  derkest  hous 

Bitwixe  tliis  and  the  mount  Caukasous, 

And  let  men  shit  the  dores,  and  go  thenne, 

Yit  wol  the  fuyr  as  fair  and  lighte  brenne 

As  twenty  thousand  men  might  it  biholde ; 

His  office  naturel  ay  wol  it  holde, 

Up  peiil  on  my  lif,  til  that  it  dye. 

Her  may  ye  se  wel,  how  that  genterye 

Is  nought  annexid  to  possessioun, 

Sithins  folk  ne  doon  her  operacioun  6730 

Alway,  as  doth  the  fuyr,  lo,  in  his  kynde. 

For  God  it  wot,  men  may  ful  often  fynde 

A  lordes  sone  do  schame  and  vilonye. 

And  he  that  wol  have  pris  of  his  gentrie, 

For  he  was  boren  of  a  gentil  hous, 

And  had  his  eldres  noble  and  vertuous, 

And  nyl  himselve  doo  no  gentil  dedes, 

Ne  folw  his  gentil  aunceter,  that  deed  is, 

6713. — auncestres.     Other  MSS  ,  with  Tynvhitt,  read  our  elder*  may 
we,  which  is  perhaps  the  better  reading. 


THE    WYE    OF    BATHES   TALE.  2(J1 

He  is  nought  geutil,  be  he  cluk  or  erl ; 
For  vileyn  synful  cleedes  maketh  a  cherl.  6740 

For  gentilnesse  nys  but  renome 
Of  thin  auncestres,  for  her  heigh  bounte, 
Wliich  is  a  straiuige  thing  to  thy  persone : 
Thy  gentilesce  conieth  fro  God  alloone. 
Than  comth  oure  verray  gentilesse  of  grace, 
It  was  no  thing  biquethe  us  with  oure  place. 
Thinketh  how  nobil,  as  saith  Valerius, 
Was  thilke  Tullius  Hostilius, 
That  out  of  povert  ros  to  high  noblesse. 
Redith  Senek,  and  redith  eek  Boece,  <573° 

Ther  schuln  ye  se  expresse,  that  no  dred  is, 
That  he  is  gentil  that  doth  gentil  dedis. 
And  therfor,  lieve  housbond,  I  conclude, 
Al  were  it  that  nryn  auncetres  wer  rude, 
Yit  may  the  highe  God,  and  so  hope  I, 
Graunte  me  grace  to  lyve  vertuously  : 
Than  am  I  gentil,  whan  that  I  bygynne 
To  lyve  vertuously,  and  weyven  synne. 
"  And  ther  as  ye  of  povert  me  repreve, 
The  heighe  God,  on  whom  that  we  bilieve,  ,17,i0 

In  wilful  povert  ches  to  lede  his  lif : 
And  certes,  every  man,  mayden,  or  wif 
May  understonde,  that  Jhesus,  heven  king, 


C741. — For  gentilnesse.  Tyrwhitt  refers  to  Bocthius,  de  Consol.  hi, 
Pr.  6,  for  much  of  the  reasoning  here  adopted  by  Chaucer. 

6701. — lede.  The  MS.  Harl.  has  Use,  which  appears  to  have  been  a 
mere  error  of  the  scribe. 


292  THE    CANTKKISVKY    TALES. 

Ne  wold  not  chese  a  vicious  lyvyng. 

Glad  povert  is  an  honest  thing  certayn  ; 

This  wol  Senek  and  other  clerkes  sayn. 

Who  that  holt  him  payd  of  his  povert, 

I  hold  him  riche,  al  had  he  nought  a  schert. 

He  that  coveitith  is  a  pore  wight, 

For  he  wold  have  that  is  not  in  his  might.  677° 

But  he  that  nought  hath,  ne  coveyteth  nought  to  have, 

Is  riche,  although  ye  hold  him  hut  a  knave. 

Verray  povert  is  synne  proprely. 

"  Juvenal  saith  of  povert  merily  : 
The  pore  man  whan  he  goth  by  the  way, 
Bifore  the  theves  he  may  synge  and  play. 
Povert  is  hateful  good  ;  and,  as  I  gesse, 
A  fid  gret  brynger  out  of  busynesse  ; 
A  gret  amender  eek  of  sapiens 

To  him,  that  takith  it  in  paciens.  678° 

Povert  is  this,  although  it  seme  elenge, 
Possessioun  that  no  wight  wil  chalenge. 
Povert.  ful  often,  whan  a  man  is  lowe, 
Makith  him  his  God  and  eek  himself  to  knowe. 
Povert  a  spectacle  is,  as  thinkith  me, 


6774. — Juvenal  saith.     Sat.  x,  1.  22, — 

Cantabit  vacuus  coram  latrone  viator. 

6777. — Povert  is  hateful  good.  This  is  taken  from  a  protended  dia- 
logue between  the  emperor  Adrian  and  the  philosopher  Secundus,  which 
is  given  in  Vincent  of  Beauvais,  Spec.  Hist.,  lib.  x,  c.  71,  and  is  not  un- 
frequently  found  in  a  separate  form  in  old  manuscripts.  To  the  question, 
"  Quid  est  paupertas  ?"  the  philosopher  replies,  "  Odibile  honum  ;  sani- 
tatis  mater;  remotio  curarum ;  sapiential  repertrix  ;  negotium  sine 
damno  ;  possessio  absque  calumnia  ;   sine  sollicitlldine  felicitas." 


THE  WYF  OK  BATHES  TALE.  293 

Thurgh  which  he  may  his  verray  frendes  se, 
And  therfor,  sir,  syth  that  I  yow  nought  greve, 
Of  my  povert  no  more  me  repreve, 

"  Now  sir,  of  elde  ye  repreve  me  : 
And  certes,  sir,  though  noon  auctorite  679° 

Were  in  no  book,  ye  gentils  of  honour 
Sayn,  that  men  schuld  an  old  wight  doon  favour. 
And  clepe  him  fader,  for  your  gentilesse  ; 
And  auctours  I  schal  fynden,  as  I  gesse. 

"  Now  ther  that  ye  sayn  I  am  foul  and  old. 
Than  drede  yow  nought  to  ben  a  cokewold. 
For  filthe  and  elde,  al  so  mot  I  the, 
Ben  grete  wardeyns  upon  chastite. 
But  natheles,  sith  I  knowe  your  delyt, 
I  schal  fulfille  youre  worldly  appetyt.  gsoo 

Chese  now,"  quod  sche,  "oon  of  these  thinges  tweye, 
To  have  me  foul  and  old  til  that  I  deye, 
And  be  to  yow  a  trewe  humble  wyf, 
And  never  yow  displease  in  al  my  lyf : 
Or  elles  ye  wol  have  me  yong  and  fair, 
And  take  your  aventure  of  the  repair 
That  schal  be  to  your  hous  bycause  of  me, 
Or  in  som  other  place  it  may  wel  be  : 
Now  chese  yourselven  whethir  that  yow  liketh." 
This  knight  avysith  him,  and  sore  sikith,  6810 


0797. — al  so,  or  as  it  is  commonly  written,  also,  is  the  An-!"  Saxon 
eahwa,  or  eal  swa.    Tyrwbitt,  apparently  not  aware  of  this,  lias  added 
another  so,  not  found  in  any  of  the  MSS.,  and  reads  the  line, — 
For  filthe,  and  elde  also,  so  mol  1  the. 


294  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

But  atte  last  he  sayd  in  this  manere  : 
"  My  lady  and  my  love,  and  wif  so  deere, 

I  putte  me  in  your  wyse  governaunce, 

Chesith  yourself  which  may  be  most  pleasaunce 

And  most  honour  to  yow  and  me  also, 

I  do  no  fors  the  whether  of  the  tuo  : 

For  as  yow  likith,  it  suffisith  me." 
"  Than  have  I  gete  of  yow  the  maystry,"  quod  sche, 
"  Sith  I  may  govern  and  chese  as  me  list?" 
"  Ye  certis,  wyf,"  quod  he,  "  I  hold  it  best."  6820 

"  Kys  me,"  quod  sche,  "  we  ben  no  lenger  wrothe, 

For,  by  my  trouthe,  I  wol  be  to  yow  bothe, 

This  is  to  say,  ye,  bothe  fair  and  good. 

I  pray  to  God  that  I  mot  sterve  wood, 

But  I  be  to  yow  al  so  good  and  trewe, 

As  ever  was  wyf,  siththen  the  world  was  newe  ; 

And  but  I  be  to  morow  as  fair  to  seen, 

As  eny  lady,  emperesse,  or  queen, 

That  is  bitwise  thest  and  eek  the  west, 

Doth  by  my  lyf  right  even  as  yow  lest.  683° 

Cast  up  the  cortyns,  and  look  what  this  is." 
And  whan  the  knyght  saugh  verrayly  al  this, 

That  sche  so  fair  was,  and  so  yong  therto, 

For  joye  he  bent  hir  in  his  armes  tuo  : 

His  herte  bathid  in  a  bath  of  blisse, 


6831. — The  second  Cambridge  MS.  reads,  instead  of  tins  line, — 
And  so  the}r  slept  tille  the  monve  gray  ; 
And  than  she  saide,  when  it  was  day, 
"  Caste  up  the  curteyn,  loke  howe  it  is." 


THE  WYF  OF  BATHES  TALE.  295 

A  thousand  tyme  on  rowe  he  gan  hir  kisse : 

And  sche  oheyed  him  in  every  thing, 

That  mighte  doon  him  pleisauns  or  likyng. 

And  thus  thay  lyve  unto  her  lyves  ende 

In  parfyt  joye;  and  Jhesu  Crist  us  sende  6810 

Houshondes  meke,  yonge,  and  freissche  on  bedde, 

And  grace  to  overbyde  hem  that  we  •wedde. 

And  eek  I  pray  to  Jhesus  schort  her  lyves, 

That  wil  nought  be  governed  after  her  wyves. 

And  old  and  angry  nygardes  of  despense, 

God  send  hem  sone  verray  pestilence  !  °816 


END    OF   VOL.    i. 


RICHARDS,   I'KINTF.It,    11)0,    ST.    MARTIN'S    CANE. 


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