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Vv. 


!    RARY 

UNlVei^SiTY  OF 

CALIFORNIA 

SAN  DIEGO 


^ 


Us  I 
V.  3 


THE    ALDINE    EDITION 

OF    THE    BRITISH 

POETS 


THE    rOEMS    OF    GEOFFREY    CHAUCER 

IN    SIX    VOLUMES 

VOL    III 


THE     POETICAL     WORKS     OF 
GEOFFREY    CHAUCER 


EDITED  BY   lilCHAHD   MORKIS 

Eddur  of '' Specimens  cf  Earlij  Eiujlish,"  llampok's  "  I'ncLe  cf 

Conscience,"  "  Uld  EmjUsh  Homilies,"  etc.,  Member  nf 

the  C'vitncii  of  the  PhilulogicaL  Hvcieti/. 

WITH    IMKMOIR   BY    SIR   HAIUUS   NICOLAS 
NEW  AND  llEVISED  EDITION 


VOL   III 


LONDON 
BELL   AND    DALDY   YOllK   STEEET 

COyENT    GARDEN 


CONTENTS. 


VOL  III. 


J'*^^ 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 

HE  Frankeleynes  Prologc  . 
The  Frankeleynes  Talc 
The  Secouncle  Nonnes  Talc 
The  Prologe  of  the  Chanotmcs  Yctuan 

The  Chanounes  Yemannes  Tale 

The  Doctoures  Prologe  . 

The  Tale  of  the  Doctor  of  Phisik 

Tlie  Prolooe  of  the  Pardoner 

The  Pardoneres  Tale 

Tlic  Schipmannes  Prologc 

Tiic  Schipmannes  Talc 

The  Prioresses  Prologe 

The  Prioresses  Tale 

Prologe  to  Sire  Thopas 

The  Tale  of  Sir  Thopas 

Prologe  to  Melibeus 

The  Talc  of  Melibeus      . 

The  l'rol(io-c  of  the  Jlonkcs  T 

o 

'J'he  ?*[. Mikes  Talc    . 


1 


40 

60 

75 

75 

85 

00 

106 

107 

121 

122 

130 

131 

13« 

13'J 

19S 

201 


•.'1 


CONTEIS'TS. 


The  ProiOgG  of  the  Noune  Prestes  Tale 

The  Nonne  Prest  his  Tale 

The  Prologe  of  th(>  Maunciples  Talu 

The  Maunciples  Tale 

The  Prologe  of  the  Pei'sones  Tale  . 

The  Persones  Tale 


• 

-^1 

. 

229 

t 

249 

. 

252 

. 

.     261 

,               J 

263 

THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 


THE  FRANKELEYNER  PROLOGE, 


^N  faith,  Squier,  thou  hast  the  wel  j- 
quit 
And  gentilly,  I  prelse  wel  thy  wit,' 
Quod  the  Frankeleyn,  '  considering 
thin  youth  e. 
So  felingly  thou  spekest,  sire,  I  alojfe  the, 
As  to  my  dome,  ther  is  non  that  is  here. 
Of  eloquence  that  sehal  be  thy  pere, 
If  that  thou  live ;  God  geve  thee  goode  chaunce, 
And  in  vertue  send  the  continuaunce, 
For  of  thy  speking  I  have  gret  deinte. 
I  have  a  sone,  and  by  the  Trinite  lO 

It  were  me  lever  than  twenty  pound  worth  lond, 
Though  it  right  now  were  fallen  in  myn  bond, 
He  were  a  man  of  swich  discretion, 
As  that  ye  hen  ;  fie  on  possession, 
But-if  a  man  be  vertuous  withal ! 
I  have  my  sone  snibbcd,  and  yet  shal, 
For  he  to  vertue  listeth  not  to  entendf, 
But  for  to  play  at  dis,  and  to  dispende, 


2  THE   CANTERBURY    TALES. 

And  lose  al  that  he  hath,  is  his  usage ; 
And  he  had  lever  talken  with  a  page,  f?o 

Than  to  commune  with  any  gentil  wight, 
Thcr  he  might  leren  gentillesse  aright.' 

'  Straw  for  your  gentillesse  !'  quod  our  hoste. 
*  What?  Frankeleyn,  parde,  sire,  wel  thou  wost, 
That  echo  of  you  mote  tellen  at  the  leste 
A  tale  or  two,  or  broken  his  bcheste.' 
'  That  know  I  wel,  sire,'  quod  the  Frankeleyn, 
'  I  pray  you  haveth  me  not  in  disdein. 
Though  I  to  this  man  speke  a  word  or  two.' 
'  Telle  on  thy  tale,  withouten  wordes  mo.'  so 

'  Gladly,  sire  hoste,'  quod  he,  '  I  wol  obeye 
Unto  your  wille  ;  now  herkeneth  what  I  seyc ; 
I  wol  you  not  contrarien  in  no  wise, 
As  fer  as  that  my  wittes  may  suffice. 
I  pray  to  God  that  it  may  plesen  yow. 
Than  wot  I  wel  that  it  is  good  y-now.' 


THE   FRANKELEYNES   PROLOGE. 


THE  FEA-NKELEYNES   PEOLOGE. 

*HIS  olde  gentile  Britouns  in  here  dayes 
Of  diverse  aventures  maden  layes, 
Eymeden  in  here  firste  Britoun  tonge; 
Whiche  layes  with  here  instrumentzs 
they  songe, 

Other  elles  redden  hem  for  here  plesaunce. 

And  on  of  hem  have  I  in  remembraunce, 

Which  I  sehal  seje  with  as  goode  wille  as  I  can. 

But,  sires,  bycause  that  I  am  a  burel  man, 

At  my  begynnyng  first  I  you  beseche 

Haveth  me  excused  of  my  rude  speche,  lo 

I  lerned  never  rethorik  certayn ; 

Thing  that  I  spelce,  it  mot  be  bare  and  playn ; 

I  slepte  never  on  the  mount  of  Pernaso, 

Ne  lered  never  Marcus,  Thullius,  ne  Cithero. 

Colours  of  Eethorik  knoAve  I  non,  withouten  d^ede, 

But  suche  coloures  as  growen  in  the  mede, 

Or  elles  suche  as  men  dye  with  or  peynte ; 

Colours  of  rethorik  ben  me  to  queynte  ; 

My  spyrit  feleth  nought  of  suche  matere. 

But  if  ye  luste  my  tale  schyl  ye  noiithe  here.'      20 

VOL.  III.  B 


2'  THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


THE  FRANKELEYNES  TALE. 

^HER  was  a  knight,  that  loved  and  did 
his  peyne 
In  Armoryke,  that  cleped  is  Briteyne, 
To  scrven  a  lady  in  his  beste  wise ; 
And  many  a  labour,  and  many  a  grete  emprise 
He  for  his  lady  wrought,  or  sche  were  wonne ; 
For  sche  was  on  the  fairest  under  sonne, 
And  eek  therto  come  of  so  heih  kynrede, 
That  wel  unnethes  durst  this  knight  for  drede 
Telle  hire  his  woo,  his  peyne,  and  his  distresse. 
But  atte  laste  sche  for  his  worthinesse,  lo 

And  namely  for  his  meke  obeissance, 
Hath  suehe  a  pite  caught  of  his  penaunce, 
That  prively  sche  felle  of  his  acord 
To  take  him  for  hir  housbonde  and  hire  lord, 
(Of  suche  lordschipe  as  men  ban  over  here  wyves) ; 
And,  for  to  lede  the  more  in  blisse  here  lyves, 
Of  his  fre  wille  he  swor  hire  as  a  knight. 
That  never  in  his  wille  by  day  ne  by  night 
Ne  schulde  he  upon  him  take  no  maystrie 
Ayeins  hire  wille,  ne  kuythe  hire  jalousye,  y.> 

But  hire  obeye,  and  folwe  hire  wille  in  al, 
As  ony  lovere  to  his  lady  schal ; 
!i5ave  that  the  name  of  sovereynete 
That  wolde  he  han  for  schame  of  his  degre. 
Sche  thanketh  him,  and  with  ful  grete  humblesse 
Sche  sayde ;  '  Sire,  scththen  of  your  gentilncsse 
Ye  profre  me  to  han  als  large  a  reyne, 


THE  FRANKELEYNES   TALE.  3 

Ne  wold  nevere  God  betwixe  us  tweyne, 

As  in  my  gilt,  were  eyther  werre  or  stryf. 

Sire,  I  wil  be  your  oiune  humble  trewe  wijf,        30 

Have  here  my  trouthe,  til  that  myn  herte  breste.' 

Thus  be  they  bothe  in  quiete  and  in  reste. 

For  0  thing,  syres,  saufly  dar  I  seye, 

That  frendes  everich  other  motte  obeye, 

If  thay  wille  longe  holde  companye 

Love  wol  nought  ben  constreigned  by  maystrie. 

Whan  maystrie  cometh,  the  god  of  love  anon 

Beteth  on  his  wynges,  and  fare  wcl,  he  is  gon. 

Love  is  a  thing,  as  any  spiryt,  fre. 

Wommen  of  kynde  desiren  liberte,  to 

And  nought  to  be  constreigned  as  a  thral ; 

And  so  do  men,  if  I  the  sothe  seye  schal. 

Loke  who  that  is  most  paeient  in  love, 

He  is  at  his  avauntage  al  above. 

Pacience  is  an  heih  vertue  certeyn. 

For  it  venquissheth,  as  these  clerkes  seyn, 

Thynges  that  rigour  schulde  never  attcigne. 

For  every  word  men  may  nought  chyde  ne  ployne. 

Lemeth  to  suffre,  or  elles,  so  mote  I  gon. 

Ye  schuUen  it  lerne  whether  ye  wole  or  non.       so 

For  in  this  worlde  certeyn  no  wight  ther  nys, 

That  he  ne  doth  or  saith  som  tyme  amya. 

Ire  othir  siknessc,  other  constillacioun, 

Wyn,  wo,  or  chaungynge  of  complexioun, 

Causeth  fid  often  to  don  amys  other  speken. 

On  every  wrong  men  may  nought  ben  awreken ; 

After  the  tyme  mosto  be  temperaunce 

To  every  wight  that  can  of  governance. 

And  therfore  hath  this  worthy  wise  knight 

T9  lyve  in  ese  suffraunce  hir  behight ;  60 


4  THE  CANTERBURY   TALES. 

And  sehe  to  him  ful  wisly  gan  to  swere, 

That  never  sehuldo  ther  be  defaute  in  here. 

Here  may  men  sen  an  humble  wyse  aeord ; 

Thus  hath  sche  take  hire  servaunt  and  hire  lorde, 

Scrvaunt  in  love,  and  lord  in  mariage. 

Than  was  he  bothe  in  lordschipe  and  servage  ! 

Servago  ?  nay,  but  in  lordschipe  al  above, 

Sethyns  that  he  hath  bothe  his  lady  and  his  love ; 

His  lady  ccrtes,  and  his  wyf  also, 

The  whiche  that  lawe  of  love  accordeth  therto.    to 

And  whan  he  was  in  this  prosperite, 

Home  with  his  wyf  he  goth  to  his  cuntre. 

Nought  for  fro  Pc?miark  ;  thcr  as  his  dwellyng  was, 

Whcr  as  he  lyveth  in  blisse  and  in  solas. 

Who  couthe  telle,  but  he  hadde  wedded  be, 
The  joy,  the  ese,  and  the  prosperite, 
That  is  bitwixe,  an  housebond  and  his  wyf? 
A  yeer  and  more  lasteth  this  blissful  liif. 
Til  that  this  knight,  of  which  I  spak  of  thus, 
That  of  kynredo  was  cleped  Arveragus,  80 

Schope  him  to  gon  and  dwelle  a  yeer  or  tweyne 
In  Engclond,  that  cleped  eck  was  Bretayne, 
To  seche  in  amies  worschipe  and  cek  honour, 
(For  all  his  lust  he  sette  in  such  labour  ;) 
And  dwelleth  there  two  yeer  ;  the  boke  saith  thus. 

Now  wil  I  stynte  of  tins  Arviragus, 
And  speken  I  wole  of  Dor3-gen  his  wijf. 
That  loveth  hir  husbonde  as  hire  hertes  lyf. 
And  for  his  absens  wepeth  sche  and  siketh, 
As  don  these  noble  wyves  whan  hem  liketh ;       90 
Sche   mourneth,  waketh,    waylcth,   fasteth, 

pleyneth ; 
Desire  of  his  presence  hire  so  destreyneth. 


THE   FRANKELEYNES   TiVLE.  5 

That  al  this  wyde  world  sche  sette  at  nought. 

Hire  freendes,  which  that  knewe  hir  hevy  thought, 

Conforted  hire  in  al  that  ever  they  mighte  ormay; 

They  prechen  hire,  thay  tellen  hire  night  and  day, 

That  causeles  sche  sleeth  hire  self  alias  ! 

And  every  confort  possible  in  this  cas 

They  don  to  hire,  with  all  here  busynes, 

And  all  to  make  hire  lete  hire  hevynesse.  loo 

By  processe  as  ye  knowe  wel  everyohon, 

Men  may  so  longc  graven  in  the  ston, 

Til  som  figure  therinne  e??iprentyd  be; 

So  longe  han  they  conforted  hire,  that  sche 

Receyved  hath,  by  hope  and  by  resoun, 

The  empryntynge  of  hire  consollacioun. 

Thurgh  which  hire  grete  sorwc  gan  aswage ; 

Sche  may  nought  alway  endure  in  such  rage. 

And  eek  Arveragus,  in  al  this  care, 

Hath  sent  his  IcLtrcs  home  q/'his  ivcl-fare,  )io 

And  that  he  woldc  come  hastly  ayayn, 

Other  elks  haddc  this  sorwc  hire  herte  slayn. 

Hire  frendcs  sawe  hire  herte  gan  to  slake, 

And  preyed  hire  on  knees,  for  Goddes  sake, 

To  come  and  rome  in  here  companye, 

Away  to  dryve  hire  derke  fantasye ; 

And  fynally  sche  graunted  that  requeste, 

For  wel  sche  sawe  that  it  was  for  the  best. 

Now  stood  hire  castcl  faste  by  the  see, 
And  often  with  hire  freendes  walked  sche,  120 

Hire  to  disporte  on  the  banke  on  heih, 
Wher  as  sche  many  schippes  and  barges  seih, 
Scylinge  here  cours,  where  as  hem  luste  to  go. 
But  yit  was  there  a  parcelle  of  hir  wo. 
For  to  hir  self  ful  often,  seyde  sche. 


/ 


6  THE   CANTERBURY    TALES. 

■"  Is  ther  no  schipp,  of  so  many  as  I  se, 

Wole  br)'nge  home  my  lord  ?  than  wolde  myn  herte 

Al  warysschc  of  this  bitter  peynes  smerte.' 

Another  tyme  ther  wokfe  sche  sitte  and  thinke, 
And  caste  hire  cyen  dounward  fro  the  brynke;  lao 
But  whan  sche  saugh  the  grisly  rokkes  blake, 
For  verray  fere  so  wolde  hire  herte  quake, 
That  on  hire  feet  sche  mighte  nought  hire  sustene. 
Thenne  wolde  sche  sitte  adoun  upon  the  grene, 
And  pitously  into  the  see  byholde, 
\nd  sayn  right  thus,  with  sorowful  sikes  colde. 
'  Etcrne  God,  that  thurgh  thy  purvuyaunce 
Lcdest  the  world  by  certein  govcrnaunce. 
In  ydelnessc,  as  men  sayn  ye  nothinge  make. 
But,  Lord,  these  grisely  feendly  rokkes  blake,    i40 
That  semen  rather  a  foul  confusioun 
Of  work,  then  any  fayr  creacioun 
Of  sHche  a  parfyt  God  and  a  stable, 
Why  ban  ye  wrought  this  werk  unresonable  ? 
For  by  this  wcrke,  south,  north,  est,  and  west, 
Tiier  nys  y-fostred  man,  ne  bryd,  ne  best ; 
Hit  doth  no  good,  to  my  witt,  but  annoyeth. 
Se  ye  nought,  Lorde,  how  mankynde  it  destroyeth  ? 
An  hundred  thousand  bodyes  of  mankynde 
Han  rokkes  slayn,  al  be  they  nought  in  mynde  ;  150 
Which  mankynde  is  so  fair  part  of  thy  werk. 
That  thou  it  madcst  ylike  to  thin  bond  werk, 
Thenne  semed  it,  ye  hadde  a  gret  chierte 
Toward  mankynde  ;  but  how  than  may  it  be, 
That  ye  suche  menys  make  it  to  distroyen  ? 
Whiche  menys  doth  no  good,  but  ever  annoyen. 
I  wot  wel,  clerkes  woln  sayn  as  hem  leste. 
By  argumentz,  that  al  thing  is  for  the  bcste, 


THE  fra>;keleynes  tale.  7 

Though  I  ne  can  the  Ccauses  for  sothe  knowe ; 

But  thilke  God  that  made  the  wynde  to  blowe,    i60 

As  kepe  my  lord,  this  is  my  conclusioun  ; 

To  clerkes  lete  I  al  disputacioun  ; 

But  wolde  God,  that  al  the  rokkes  blake 

Were  sonken  into  helle  for  his  sake  ! 

These  rokkes  sleen  myn  herte  for  feere.' 

Thus  wolde  sche  sayn  with  many  a  pitous  teere. 

Hire  freendes  sawe  that  it  nas  no  disport 
To  romen  by  the  see,  but  discomfort, 
And  schopen  for  to  pleyen  somwhere  elles. 
They  leden  hire  by  ryveres  and  by  wellcs,  no 

And  eek  in  other  places  delitables  ; 
They  daunce  and  playe  at  chesse  and  at  tables. 
So  on  a  day,  right  in  the  morwe  tyde. 
Unto  a  gardyne  that  was  right  there  besyde, 
In  which  that  thay  hadde  made  here  ordinaunce 
Of  vitaile,  and  of  other  purvyaunce, 
They  gon  and  pleyen  hem  al  the  longe  day  ; 
And  this  was  on  the  sixte  morwe  of  May, 
Which  May  hadde  peynted  with  his  softe  schoures 
This  gardyn  ful  of  leves  and  of  floures :  iso 

And  with  crafte  of  mannes  hande  so  curiously 
Arayed  hath  this  gardyn  treirelly, 
That  never  nas  ther  gardyn  of  such  prys, 
But  if  it  were  the  verrey  paradys. 
The  odure  of  floures  and  the  freisshe  sight, 
Wolde  han  made  ony  pensyf  herte  light 
That  ever  was  born,  but  if  to  gret  siknesse 
Other  to  gret  sorwe  hyld  it  in  distresse, 
And  after  dynere  gan  they  to  daunce. 
So  ful  it  was  of  beautc  with  plesaunce,  iso 

And  synge  also,  but  Dorigen  song  alone. 


8  THE  CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Sche  made  alwey  hire  complcynt  and  hire  mone, 
For  sche  ne  saugh  him  on  the  daunec  go, 
That  -was  hire  housbond,  and  hir  love  also ; 
But  nathelcs  sche  moste  a  tyme  abyde, 
And  with  good  hope  sche  let  hir  sorwe  glyde. 

Upon  this  daunce,  amonges  other  men, 
Daunced  a  squier  biforcn  Dorigen, 
That  freisscher  Avas  and  jolyer  of  array, 
As  to  my  dome,  than  is  the  monthc  of  May.        200 
He  syngeth  and  daimceth  passyng  any  man. 
That  is  or  Avas  sithenes  this  world  bygan ; 
Therwith  he  was,  if  men  schuldc  him  discryve, 
On  of  the  beste  farynge  man  on  lyve, 
Yong,  strong,  ryht  vertuous,  riche,  and  Avys, 
And  wel  biloved,  and  holden  in  grot  prys. 
And  schortliche,  if  tlic  soth  telle  I  schal, 
Unwytyng  of  this  Dorigen  at  al, 
This  lusty  squyer,  servaunt  to  Venus, 
Which  that  y-cleped  Avas  Aurelius,  210 

Had  loved  hire  best  of  eny  creature 
Tuo  yeer  and  more,  as  Avas  his  adventure ; 
But  never  durste  he  telle  hire  of  his  grevaunce, 
Withoute  cuppe  he  drank  al  his  penaunce. 
He  Avas  dispeyred,  nothing  durst  he  seye. 
Save  in  his  saAves  soniAvhat  Avolde  he  Avreye 
His  Avoo,  as  in  general  compleynyng ; 
He  sayde,  he  lovede  and  Avas  biloved  nothing. 
Of  suche  matiere  made  he  many  layes, 
Songes,  compleigntes,  roundeletis,  virrelayes ;     i.'20 
How  that  he  durste  nought  his  sorAve  telle, 
That  languisshith  as  fuyr  doth  in  helle ; 
And  deye  seyde  he  moste,  as  did  Ekko 
For  Narsisus,  that  durste  nought  telle  hir  avo. 


THE   FRANKELEYNES   TALE.  9 

In  other  manerc  thcnne  ye  here  me  seye 
Ne  durst  he  nought  to  hire  his  wo  bewreye, 
Sauve  paraventure  som  tyme  at  daunces, 
Ther  yong  folk  kopcn  here  observaunces, 
Hit  may  wel  be  he  loked  on  hire  face 
In  such  a  wise,  as  man  that  asketh  grace,  230 

But  nothing  wiste  sche  of  his  entent. 
Natheles  it  happed,  cr  they  thennes  went, 
Bycause  that  he  was  hire  neyghebourc, 
And  was  a  man  of  worschipe  and  honour, 
And  hadde  knowen  him  ofte  tymes  yore, 
They  felle  in  speche,  and  ofte  more  and  more 
Unto  his  purpos  droAve  Aurelius  ; 
And  whan  he  saw  his  tyme,  he  sayde  thus. 
'  Madame,'  quod  he,  'by  God,  that  this  world  made, 
So  that  I  wist  it  mighte  your  herte  glade,  2i0 

I  wolde  that  day,  that  your  Arveragus 
Went  on  the  see,  that  I  Aurelius 
Had  went  that  I  schulde  never  have  come  ayain ; 
For  wel  I  woot  my  servise  is  in  vayn, 
My  guerdon  nys  but  bersting  of  myn  herte. 
Madame,  reweth  upon  my  peynes  smerte. 
For  as  with  a  swerd  ye  may  me  sle  or  save. 
Her  at  youre  foot  God  wold  that  I  were  grave ! 
I  have  as  now  no  more  leyser  for  to  seye ; 
Have  mercy  on  me,  swete,  or  ye  wolen  do  me  deye.' 
Sche  gan  to  lokc  upon  Aurelius ;  251 

'  Is  this  youre  wille,'  quod  sche, '  and  say  ye  thus? 
Never  erst,'  quod  sche,  *  ne  wist  I  what  ye  mente. 
But  now,  Aurely,  I  knowe  youre  entente. 
By  thilke  God,  that  yaf  me  soule  and  lyf, 
Ne  schal  I  never  ben  untrewe  wif 
In  word  ne  in  werk ;  as  fer  as  I  have  wit. 


10  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

I  wole  ben  his  to  whom  that  I  am  knyt.' 
But  after  that  in  pley  thus  seyde  sche : 
'  Take  this  for  fynal  answer  as  for  me.  2C0 

'  Aurelje/  quod  sche,  '  by  hihe  God  above, 
Yit  wol  I  graunte  you  to  be  youre  love, 
(Sethyns  I  you  se  so  pitously  compleyne), 
Loke,  what  day  that  endelong  Bryteyne 
Yc  remewe  alle  the  rokkes,  ston  by  stoon, 
That  thay  ne  lette  schip  ne  boot  to  goon ; 
I  say,  whan  ye  han  maad  these  costes  so  clone 
Of  rokkes,  that  ther  nys  no  ston  y-sene, 
Than  wol  I  love  yow  best  of  any  man, 
Have  here  my  trouthe,  in  al  that  ever  I  can.'     270 
'  Is  ther  non  other  grace  in  you?'  quod  he, 
'  No,  by  that  Lord,'  quod  sche,  *  that  made  me, 
For  wel  I  wot  that  that  schal  never  betyde. 
Let  such  folye  out  of  youre  herte  glj'de. 
What  deynte  schulde  man  have  by  his  lijf, 
For  to  love  another  mannes  Avyf, 
That  hath  hir  body  whan  so  that  him  liketh  ?' 
Aurilius  ful  ofte  sore  siketh ; 
Wo  was  Aurely  Avhan  that  he  this  herde. 
And  with  a  sorwful  herte  he  thus  answerde.      -'so 
'  Madame,'  quod  he,  '  this  were  impossible. 
Thenne  mot  I  deye  on  sodeyn  deth  orrible.' 
And  with  that  word  he  torned  him  anon. 
Tho  come  hire  other  frendes  many  oon, 
And  in  the  aleyes  romed  up  and  doun, 
And  nothing  wiste  of  this  conclusioun, 
But  sodeinly  began  to  revel  newe, 
Til  that  the  brighte  Sonne  had  lost  his  hewe, 
For  thoriso?ite  had  raft  the  sonne  his  light, 
(This  is  as  moche  to  say  as  it  was  night);  290 


THE   FRANKELEYNES   TALE.  11 

Ajjd  home  they  gon  in  joye  and  in  solas ; 

Save  oonly  wrecched  Aurelius,  alias  ! 

He  to  his  hous  is  gon  with  sorwful  herte. 

He  seith,  he  may  not  fro  his  deth  asterte. 

Him  semeth,  he  feht/t  his  herte  colde. 

Up  to  the  hevene  his  handes  gan  he  holde, 

And  on  his  knees  bare  he  sette  him  doun, 

And  in  his  ravynge  sayd  his  orisoun. 

For  verray  wo  out  of  his  witte  he  breyde,  299 

He  nyste  nought  what  he  spak,  but  thus  he  seyde ; 

With  pitous  herte  hath  he  his  pleynt  bygonne 

Unto  the  goddes  and  first  unto  the  sonne. 

He  sayde,  '  Apollo,  God  and  governour 

Of  every  plaunte,  herbe  tre,  and  flour, 

That  yevest  after  thy  declinacioun 

To  ilk  of  hem  his  tyme  and  his  sesoun, 

As  that  thin  herborwe  chaungeth  low  and  heighe ; 

Lord  Phebus,  cast  thin  merciable  eyghe 

On  wrecched  Aurely,  that  am  but  lorn. 

Lo,  lord,  my  lady  hath  my  deth  y-sworne  3io 

Withouten  gilt,  but  thy  benignite 

Upon  my  dedly  herte  have  sum  pite. 

For  wel  I  wot,  lord  Phebus,  if  you  leste. 

Ye  may  be  helpe,  sauve  my  lady,  beste. 

Now  voucheth  sauf,  that  I  may  you  devysc 

How  that  I  may  be  holpe  and  in  what  wyse. 

Your  blisful  suster,  Lucina  the  schene. 

That  of  the  see  is  cheef  goddesse  and  queene  ;  — 

Though  Neptunus  have  deyte  in  the  see, 

Yit  emperesse  aboven  him  is  sche  ;  320 

Ye  knowcn  wel,  lord,  that  right  as  hire  desire 

Is  to  be  quyked  and  lited  of  youre  fire. 

For  which  sche  folweth  yow  ful  besyly, 


12  THE   CA^"TERBtrRY   TALES. 

Right  so  the  see  dcsircth  naturelly 

To  fohven  hire,  as  sche  that  is  goddesse 

Bothe  in  the  see  and  in  ryveres  more  and  lesse. 

Wherefore  lord  Phebus,  this  is  myn  requestc, 

Do  this  myraclc;  or  I  do  myn  herte  to  breste ; 

That  thou  next  at  this  apposicioun, 

Which  in  the  signe  schal  be  of  the  Leoun,  330 

As  preye</t  hire  so  gret  a  flood  to  brynge 

That  five  fathome  at  the  leste  it  overspringo 

The  hyeste  rokke  in  Armorik  Britayne, 

And  lete  this  flod  endure  yeres  twayne ; 

Thenne  certes  to  my  lady  may  I  saye, 

Holdcth  youre  hestes,  the  rokkes  ben  aM^aye, 

Lord  Phebus,  do  this  miracle  for  me, 

Pray  hire  sche  go  no  faster  cours  than  ye ; 

I  say  you  thus,  pray  your  suster  that  sche  go 

None  faster  cours  than  ye  this  yeres  tuo ;  cto 

Then  sclial  sche  be  ever  at  the  fuUe  alway 

And  springe-flood  lasten  bothe  night  and  day. 

And  but  sche  vouchesauf  in  such  manere 

To  graunte  me  my  lady  soverein  dcre, 

Preye  hire  to  synken  every  rokke  adoun 

Into  hire  owne  darkc  regioun 

Under  the  grounde,  ther  Pluto  duelleth  innc. 

Other  nevermore  schal  I  my  lady  wynne. 

Thy  temple  in  Delphos  wol  I  barefoot  seeke ; 

Lord  Phebus,  seeth  the  teeres  on  my  cheeke,     sc-o 

And  of  my  peyne  have  so7n  compassioun,' 

And  with  that  word  in  swowne  he  feUe  adoun, 

And  longe  tyme  he  lay  forth  in  a  traunco. 

His  brother,  which  that  knew  of  his  penaunee, 

Up  caught  him,  and  to  bedde  he  hath  him  brouglito, 

Dispeyi-ed  in  his  turment  and  in  his  thought, 


THE   FRANKELEYNES   TALE.  13 

Lo  I  this  woful  creature  leto  lye, 

Chese  he  for  me  whether  he  wol  lyve  or  dj'e. 

Arveragus  with  hele  and  gret  honour 
(As  he  was  of  chyvalry  the  flour)  360 

Is  comen  home,  and  othere  worthy  men. 
0,  bhsful  art  thou  now,  thou  Dorigen, 
That  hast  thin  histy  housbonde  in  thin  amies, 
The  freissche  knight,  the  worthy  man  of  armes. 
That  loveth  the,  as  his  owen  hertes  lyf ; 
Nothing  luste  he  to  be  ymaginatyfF, 
If  any  wight  hadde  spoke,  whils  he  was  oute. 
To  hire  of  love ;  he  made  ther-of  no  doute  ; 
lie  nought  entendeth  to  no  suche  matere. 
But  dauneeth,  justith,  and  maketh  good  cheere. 
And  thus  in  joye  and  blisse  I  lete  him  dwello,  371 
And  of  the  swete  Aurelyus  wol  I  telle. 
In  langure  and  in  furious  turments  thus 
Tuo  yer  and  more  lay  wreeche  Aurelius, 
Er  ony  foot  on  erthe  he  mighte  gon ; 
No  comfort  in  this  tymo  nade  he  non, 
Sauf  of  his  brother,  which  that  was  a  clerk. 
He  knew  of  al  this  wo  and  of  al  this  werk ; 
For  to  non  other  creature  certeyn 
Of  this  matiere  ne  durste  he  no  word  seyn ;        sso 
Under  his  brest  he  bar  it  more  sccre 
Than  ever  dide  Pamphilius  for  Galathe. 
His  brest  was  hole  withouten  for  to  sene, 
But  in  his  herte  ay  was  the  arwe  kene ; 
And  wcl  ye  knowen  that  a  sore  sanure 
In  surgerie  ful  perilous  is  the  cure. 
But  man  might  touche  the  arwe  or  come  therby. 
His  brother  wepeth  and  wayleth  privyly. 
Til  attc  last  him  fel  in  rcmcmbraunec, 


]4  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

That  whiles  he  was  at  Orlyaunee  in  Fraunce,     390 

As  yonge  clerkes,  that  ben  likerous 

To  reden  artes  that  ben  curious, 

Seken  in  every  halke  and  every  heme 

Particuler  sciences  for  to  lepne, 

He  him  remembreth,  that  upon  a  day. 

At  Orlyaunee  in  studye  a  book  he  say 

Of  magique  naturel,  whiehe  his  felawe, 

That  was  that  tyme  a  baehiler  of  lawe, 

Al  were  he  there  to  lerne  another  craft, 

Had  prively  upon  his  desk  y-laft ;  400 

This  book  spak  moehil  of  this  operaciouns 

Touchynge  the  xxviii.  manciouns 

That  longen  to  the  mone,  and  suche  folye 

As  in  oure  dayes  nys  nought  worth  a  flye ; 

For  holy  chirche  saith,  in  our  byleeve, 

Ne  suffreth  non  illusioun  us  to  greeve. 

And  whan  this  boke  was  in  remembraunce, 

Anon  for  joye  his  herte  gan  for  to  daunce, 

And  to  him  selve  he  sayde  pryvely ; 

'  My  brother  schal  be  warisshed  hastely ;  410 

For  I  am  siker  that  ther  ben  sciences. 

By  whicho  men  maken  dyverse  apparences, 

Which  as  the  subtile  tregctoures  pleyen. 

For  ofte  at  festes  h«i'e  I  herd  seyen. 

That  tregettoures,  withinne  an  halle  large, 

Han  made  in  come  water  and  a  barge. 

And  in  the  halle  rowen  up  and  doun. 

Som  tyme  hath  semed  come  a  grym  leoun ; 

Some  tyme  a  castel  al  of  lym  and  ston. 

And  whan  hem  liked  voyded  it  anon ;  420 

Thus  semed  it  to  every  mannes  sight. 

Now  thenne  conclude  I  thus,  if  that  I  might 


THE   FRAKKELEYNES   TALE.  J  5 

At  Orleaunce  som  olde  felaw  finde, 
That  hadde  the  moones  manciouns  in  mynde, 
Othere  magik  naturel  above, 
He  scholde  wel  make  my  brother  han  his  love. 
For  with  cm  apparcns  a  clerh  may  make 
To  mannes  sight,  that  alle  the  rokkes  blake 
Of  Britaigne  were  y-went  everychon. 
And  schippes  by  the  brinke  might  comen  and  goon, 
And  in  such  forme  endure  a  yeer  or  tuo  431 

Then  were  my  brother  warissched  of  his  wo, 
Than  most  sche  needes  knowen  hire  byheste, 
Or  elles  he  schal  schamen  hire  at  the  leste.' 
What  sehukle  I  make  a  lenger  tale  of  this  ? 
Unto  his  brothers  bedde  come?i  he  is, 
And  such  comfort  he  yaff  him,  for  to  gon 
To  Orlyaunce,  that  he  up  starte  anon, 
And  on  his  way  forth-ward  than  is  he  fare, 
In  hope  to  ben  ylissed  of  his  care.  410 

When  thay  were  come  almost  to  that  cite, 
But  if  it  Avere  a  tuo  forlong  othir  thre, 
A  yong  clerk  romyng  by  himself  they  mette, 
Which  that  in  Latyn  thriftily  hem  grette. 
And  after  that  he  sayde  a  wonder  thing ;  ^ 

*  I  knowe '  quod  he,  '  the  cause  of  youre  comyng.' 
And  er  they  forther  any  foote  went, 
He  told  hem  alle  that  was  in  here  entent. 
This  Brytoun  clerk  him  asked  of  felawes. 
The  which  that  he  had  knowen  in  olde  dawes ;  4:0 
And  he  answcrde  him  that  they  dede  were, 
For  which  he  wepe  ful  ofte  many  a  tere. 
Doun  of  his  hors  Aurelius  light  anon. 
And  forth  with  this  magicien  forth  is  he  gon 
Home  to  liis  hous,  and  made  hem  wel  at  ese ; 


IG  THE  CANTERBURY   TALES. 

Hem  lacked  no  vitayle  that  hem  might  plese. 

So  wel  arrayed  hous  as  ther  was  oon, 

Aurelius  in  his  lyf  saugh  noon. 

He  schewed  him,  er  he  went  to  sopere, 

Forestes,  parkes  ful  of  wild  deere.  -jgo 

And  how  ffaukons  han  the  heron  slayne, 

Then  saw  he  knightes  justen  in  a  playne, 

And  after  this  he  dide  him  such  plesaunee, 

That  he  him  schewed  his  lady  in  a  daunce, 

On  which  himself  he  daunced,  as  him  thouht. 

And  whan  this  mayster,  that  this  magique  wrought, 

Sawh  it  Avas  tyme  he  clappec?  his  hondes  tuo, 

And,  fare  wel !  al  the  revel  is  ydo. 

And  yit  remewe  they  never  out  of  this  hous. 

Whiles  they  sawe  al  this  sight  merveylous ;        4-0 

But  in  his  study,  ther  as  his  bookes  be, 

They  saten  stille,  and  no  wight  but  they  thre. 

To  him  his  mayster  called  thanne  a  squiere. 

And  seyde  him  thus  '  Is  redy  oure  sopere  ? 

Almost  an  hour  it  is,  I  undertake, 

Sethyns  I  you  bad  oure  souper  to  make. 

Whan  that  this  worthy  men  wenten  with  me 

Into  my  study,  ther  as  my  bokes  be.' 

*  Sire,'  quod  this  squyer,  '  when  it  lyketh  you, 

It  is  al  redy,  they  ye  wolen  righte  now.'  430 

'  Go  we  then  soupe,'  quod  he,  '  and  for  the  beste, 

These  averous  folk  som  tyme  mote  have  reste. 

At  after  souper  felle  they  in  trete 
What  somme  schulde  this  maystres  guerdon  be, 
To  remewe  all  the  rokkes  of  Brytaigne, 
And  eek  fro  Gerounay  to  the  mouth  of  Sayne. 
He  made  it  straunge,  and  swore,  so  God  him  save,* 
Lasse  than  a  thousand  pound  he  woldc  nought  have, 


TilE    rilANKELEYiXES   TALE.  17 

Ne  gladly  for  that  somme  he  wolde  not  goon. 

Aurilius  with  blisful  hert  anoon  4yo 

Answerde  thus  ;  '  Fy  on  a  thousand  pound  ! 

This  -^vyde  world,  which  that  men  say  is  round, 

I  wold  it  yive,  if  I  were  lord  of  it. 

This  bargeyn  is  ful  dryve,  for  we  ben  knyt ; 

Yc  schal  be  payed  trcwly  by  my  trouthe. 

But  loketh  now,  for  necMgence  or  slouthe, 

Ye  tarie  us  heer  no  lenger  than  to  morwe.' 

'  Nay,'  quod  this  clerk, '  have  her  my  faith  to  borwe.' 

To  bed  is  goon  Aurilius  whan  him  leste, 
And  wel  neigh  al  night  he  had  his  reste,  5o6 

What  for  his  labour,  and  his  hope  of  blisse, 
His  woful  hert  of  penaunce  had  a  lisse. 
Upon  the  morwe,  whan  that  it  was  day. 
To  Breteign  take  thei  the  righte  way, 
Aurilius,  and  this  magicien  bisyde. 
And  ben  descendid  ther  thay  wol  abydc; 
And  this  was,  as  these  bookes  me  remembre, 
The  colde  frosty  seisoun  of  Decembre. 
Phebus  wax  old,  and  hewed  lyk  latoun. 
That  in  his  hoote  declinacioun  oi 

Schon  as  the  burned  gold,  with  stremes  brighJ<^; 
But  now  in  Capricorn  adoun  he  light*:', 
Wher  as  he  schon  ful  pale  ;   I  dar  wel  sayn 
The  bitter  frostes  with  the  sleet  and  rayn 
Destroyed  hath  the  grene  in  every  yerd. 
Janus  sit  by  the  fuyr  with  double  herd. 
And  drynketh  of  his  bugle  horn  the  wyn ; 
Biforn  him  stont  the  bruun  of  toskid  swyn, 
And  Tioivec  crieth  every  lusty  man. 
Aurilius,  in  al  that  ever  he  can,  520 

Doth  to  his  maister  chier  and  reverence, 

VOL.    III.  c 


18  THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 

And  peyncth  him  to  doon  his  dihgence 

To  bringen  him  out  of  his  peynes  smerte, 

Or  Avith  a  swcrd  that  he  Avoid  slytte  his  herte. 

This  subtil  clerk  such  routhc  had  of  this  man, 
That  night  and  day  he  spedeth  him,  that  he  can, 
To  wayte  a  tyme  of  his  conclusioun  ; 
This  is  to  saye,  to  make  illusioun, 
By  such  an  apparence  of  jogelrie, 
(I  can  no  termes  of  astrologie)  530 

That  sche  and  every  Avight  schold  Avene  and  saye, 
That  of  Breteygn  the  rokkes  Avere  aAvaye, 
Or  dies  they  sonken  Avere  under  the  grounde. 
So  atte  last  he  hath  a  tyme  i-founde 
To  make  his  japes  and  his  wrecchednesse 
Of  such  a  supersticious  cursednesse. 
His  tables  ToUitanes  forth  he  broughte 
Ful  Avel  corrected,  ne  ther  lakked  noughte, 
Neither  his  collect,  ne  his  expans  yeeres, 
Neither  his  rootes,  ne  his  other  gceres,  540 

As  ben  his  centris,  and  his  argumentis, 
And  his  proporeionels  convenientis 
For  her  equaciouns  in  every  thing. 
And  by  his  thre  speeres  in  his  Avorching, 
He  knew  ful  Avel  Iioav  fer  Allnath  Avas  schove 
Fro  the  heed  of  thilk  fixe  Aries  above, 
That  in  the  fourthe  speere  considred  is. 
Ful  subtilly  he  calkiled  al  this. 
Whan  he  had  founde  his  first  mancioun, 
He  knew  the  remcnaunt  by  proporcioun  ;  £50 

And  kncAV  the  arisyng  of  this  moone  Avel, 
And  in  Avhos  face,  and  terme,  and  every  del ; 
And  kncAV  ful  avcI  the  moones  mancioun 
Acordaunt  to  his  opcracioun  ; 


THE   PEANKELEYNES   TALE.  19 

And  knew  also  his  other  observaunces, 

For  suche  illusiouns  and  suche  meschaunces, 

As  hethen  folk  used  in  thilke  dayes. 

For  which  no  longer  maked  he  delayes, 

But  thurgh  his  magik,  for  a  wike  or  tAveyc, 

It  semede  that  the  rokkes  were  aweye.  oco 

Aurilius,  which  yet  dispayred  is 
Wher  he  schal  have  his  love  or  fare  amys, 
Awayteth  night  and  day  on  this  miracle  ; 
And  whan  he  knew  that  ther  was  noon  obstacle. 
That  voyded  were  these  rokkes  everichoon, 
Doun  to  his  maistres  feet  he  fel  anoon, 
And  sayd ;  '  I  wrecched  Avoful  Aurilius, 
Thanke  you,  lord,  and  my  lady  Venus, 
That  me  han  holpe  fro  my  cares  coldc.' 
And  to  the  temple  his  way  forth  ho  hath  holde,  570 
Wher  as  he  knew  he  schold  his  lady  se. 
And  whan  he  saugh  his  tyme,  anoon  right  he 
With  dredful  hert  and  with  ful  humble  cheere 
Salued  hath  his  owne  lady  deere. 
'  My  soverayn  lady/  quod  this  woful  man, 
*  Whom  I  most  drede,  and  love,  as  I  best  can. 
And  lothest  were  of  al  this  world  displcse, 
Nere  it  that  I  fcr  you  have  such  desese, 
That  I  most  deye  her  at  youre  foot  anoon, 
Nought  wold  I  telle  how  me  is  wo  b3-goon,         sso 
But  certes  outher  most  I  dye  or  pleyne ; 
Ye  sleen  me  gulteles  for  verrey  peyne. 
But  of  my  deth  though  that  ye  have  no  routhc, 
Avyseth  yow,  or  that  ye  broke  your  trouthe ; 
Rcpenteth  yow  for  thilke  God  above, 
Or  ye  me  sleen,  bycause  that  I  you  love. 
For,  madame,  wel  ye  woot  what  ye  han  hight : 


20  THE   CAMLEBUKi    TALES. 

Nat  that  I  chalcnge  eny  thing  of  right 

Of  vow,  my  soverajTi  lady,  but  youre  grace; 

But  in  a  gardyn  yonde,  at  such  a  place,  59o 

Ye  wot  right  wel  what  yc  byhighte  me, 

And  in  myn  hond  your  troutlie  plighte  ye. 

To  love  me  best ;  God  woot  ye  sayde  so, 

Al  be  that  I  im worthy  am  therto ; 

Madame,  I  speke  it  for  thonour  of  yow, 

More  than  to  save  myn  hertes  lif  right  now ; 

I  have  do  so  as  ye  comaundede  me. 

And  if  ye  vouchesauf,  ye  maye  go  se. 

Doth  as  you  list,  have  youre  byheste  in  mynde. 

For  quyk  or  deed,  right  ther  ye  schul  me  i'yndv ; 

In  yow  lith  al  to  do  me  lyve  or  dcye  ?  coi 

But  wel  I  wot  the  rokkes  ben  aweye.' 

He  taketh  his  leve,  and  fche  astoned  stood ; 
In  alle  hir  face  ther  nas  oon  drop  of  blood ; 
8che  wende  never  have  be  in  such  a  trappe. 
'  Alias  I'  quod  sche, '  that  ever  this  schulde  happe  ! 
For  wend  I  never  by  possibilite, 
That  such  a  monstre  or  men-cyl  mighte  be ; 
It  is  agayns  the  proces  of  nature.' 
And  hom  sche  goth  a  sorwful  creature,  6i& 

For  verray  fere  imnethe  may  sche  go. 
f^che  wepeth,  wayleth  a!  a  day  or  tuo, 
And  swowneth,  that  it  roufhe  was  to  sec ; 
But  why  it  was,  to  no  wight  •«olde  sche. 
For  out  of  toune  was  goon  Arvegarius. 
But  to  hir  self  sche  spak,  and  sayde  thus, 
With  face  pale,  and  with  ful  sorwful  chicre, 
In  hir  complcignt,  as  ye  schul  after  hierc. 

'  Alias  :'  quod  sche,  '  on  the.  Fortune,  I  pk-}  nc. 
That  unwar  wrapped  me  hast  in  thy  chcyne,     620 


THE   FRANKELEYNES   TALE.  21 

Fro  which  tescape,  woot  I  no  soeour, 

Save  oonly  deth,  or  elles  dishonour ; 

Oon  of  these  tuo  bihoveth  me  to  chese. 

But  natheles,  yet  have  I  lever  leese 

My  lif,  than  of  my  body  to  have  schame, 

Or  knowe  my-selve  fals,  or  lese  my  name ; 

And  with  my  deth  I  may  be  quyt,  i-wys. 

Hath  ther  not  many  a  noble  wyf,  er  this, 

And  many  a  mayden,  slayn  hir-self,  alias ! 

Rather  than  with  her  body  doon  trespas  ?  630 

Yis  certeynly  ;  lo,  stories  beren  witnes. 

Whan  thritty  tirauntz  ful  of  cursednes 

Hadde  slayn  Phidon  in  Athenes  atte  festc, 

Thay  comaunded  his  doughtres  to  areste, 

And  bryngen  hem  biforn  hem  in  despit 

Al  naked,  to  fulfille  her  foule  delyt ; 

And  in  her  fadres  blood  they  made  hem  daunce 

Upon  the  pa%yment,  God  yeve  hem  meschaunce. 

For  which  these  woful  maydens,  ful  of  drede. 

Rather  than  they  wolde  lesc  her  maydenhede,    Cio 

They  prively  ben  stert  into  a  welle, 

And  drenched  hem-selfen,  as  the  bookes  telle. 

'  They  of  Meecnc  leet  enquere  and  seeke 
Of  Lacidomye  fifty  maydenes  eeke, 
On  which  thay  wolden  doon  her  leccherie  ; 
But  was  ther  noon  of  al  that  companye 
That  sche  nas  slayn,  and  with  a  good  entente 
Ches  rather  for  to  deye,  than  to  assento 
To  ben  oppressed  of  hir  maydenhede. 
Why  schuld  I  than  to  deye  ben  in  drede  ?  650 

'  Lo  eek  the  tyraunt  Aristoclides, 
That  loved  a  mayden  heet  Stimphalides, 
Whan  that  hir  father  slayn  was  on  a  night, 


22  THE   CAXTERBURY    TALES. 

Unto  Dyancs  temple  goth  sehe  right, 

And  hent  the  ymage  in  hir  hondes  tuo, 

I'ro  which  ymage  wolde  sche  never  go, 

No  wight  might  of  hit  hir  hondes  arace, 

Til  sche  was  slayn  right  in  the  selve  place. 

Now  sith  that  maydens  hadde  such  despit 

To  ben  defouled  with  mannes  foul  delit,  eeo 

Wei  aught  a  wyf  rather  hir-self  to  sle, 

Than  be  defouled,  as  it  thenlceth  me. 

'  What  schal  I  seyn  of  Hasdrubaldes  wyf. 
That  at  Cartage  byraft  hir-self  the  lyf  ? 
For  whan  sche  saugh  that  Romayns  wan  the  toun, 
Sche  took  hir  children  alle,  and  skipte  adoun 
Into  the  fuyr,  and  ehes  rather  to  deye. 
Than  eny  Romayn  dide  hir  vilonye. 

'  Hath  nought  Lucresse  slayn  hir-self,  alias ! 
At  Rome,  whanne  sche  oppressid  was  670 

Of  Tarquyn  ?  for  hir  thought  it  was  a  schame 
To  lyven,  whan  sche  hadde  lost  hir  name. 

'  The  seven  maydens  of  Milisie  also 
Han  slayn  hemself  for  verray  drede  and  wo, 
Rather  than  folk  of  Gawle  hem  schulde  opprcsse. 
Mo  than  a  thousand  stories,  as  I  gesse, 
Couthe  I  now  telle  as  touching  this  matiere. 

'  Whan  Eabradace  was  slayn,  his  wif  so  decre 
Hir-selven  slough,  and  leet  hir  blood  to  glyde 
]\\  Habradaces  woundes,  deepe  and  wyde ;  eso 

And  seyde,  my  body  atte  leste  way 
Ther  schal  no  wight  defoulen,  if  I  may. 
What  schold  I  mo  ensamples  herof  sayn  ? 
Seththen  so  many  han  hem-selven  slayn 
Wei  rather  than  they  wolde  defouled  be, 
I  wol  conclude  that  it  is  best  for  me 


THE  FRANKELEYNES   TALE.  23 

To  slen  myself  than  be  defouled  thus. 

I  wol  be  trewe  unto  Arvegarius, 

Or  rather  sle  myself  in  som  manere, 

As  dede  Democionis  doughter  deere.  690 

Bycause  sehe  wolde  nought  defouled  be. 

0  Cedasus,  it  is  ful  gret  pite 

To  reden  how  thy  doughteren  dyed,  alias ! 

That  slowe  hemself  for  suche  maner  caas. 

As  gret  a  pite  was  it  or  wel  more, 

The  Theban  mayden,  that  for  Nichonore 

Hir-selven  slough,  right  for  such  maner  wo. 

Another  Theban  mayden  dede  right  so, 

For  oon  of  Macidone  had  hir  oppressed, 

Sehe  with  deth  hire  maydenhede  redressed.         too 

What  schal  I  sayn  of  Niceratis  wif, 

That  for  such  caas  biraft  hirself  hir  lyf  ? 

How  trewe  eek  was  to  Alcebiades 

His  love,  that  rather  for  to  dyen  ches, 

Than  for  to  suffre  his  body  unburied  be  ? 

Lo,  which  a  wif  was  Alceste?'  quod  sehe, 

'  What  saith  Omer  of  good  Penelope  ? 

Al  Grece  knoweth  of  hir  chastite. 

Pardi,  of  Laodomya  is  writen  thus. 

That  whan  at  Troye  was  slayn  Protheselaus,       7io 

No  lenger  wol  sehe  lyvc  after  his  day. 

The  same  of  noble  Porcia  telle  I  may  ; 

Withoute  Brutws  kynde  sehe  myght  not  lyve, 

To  whom  sehe  had  al  hool  hir  herte  yyve. 

The  parfyt  wyfhod  of  Artemesye 

Honoured  is  thurgh  al  the  Barbarie. 

0  Theu^a  queen,  thy  wifly  chastite 

To  alle  wjrves  may  a  mirour  be.' 

Thus  playnede  Dorigen  a  day  or  tweye, 


24  THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 

Purposyng  ever  that  sche  wolde  deye ;  720 

But  natheles  upon  the  thridde  night 
Horn  cam  Arveragus,  the  worthy  knight, 
And  asked  hir  why  that  sche  wepte  so  sore ; 
And  sche  gan  wepe  ever  longer  the  more. 

'  Alias  !'  quod  sche,  '  that  ever  was  I  born  ! 
Thus  have  I  sayd,'  quod  sche,  'thus  have  I  sworn;' 
And  told  him  al,  as  ye  han  herd  bifore ; 
It  nedeth  nought  reherse  it  you  no  more. 

This  housbond  with  glad  chiere  in  good  wise 
Answerd  and  sayde,  as  I  schal  you  devyse.         730 

*  Is  ther  aught  elles,  Dorigen,  but  this?' 

'  Nay,  nay,'  quod  sche,  '  God  me  so  rede  and  wis, 
This  is  to  moche,  and  it  were  Goddes  wille,' 

*  Ye,  wyf,'  quod  he,  '  let  slepe  that  may  be  stille. 
It  may  be  wel  peraunter  yet  to  day. 

Ye  schal  your  trouthe  holden,  by  my  fay. 

For  God  so  wisly  have  mercy  on  me, 

I  hadde  wel  lever  i-stekid  for  to  be, 

For  verray  love  which  that  I  to  you  have, 

But-if  ye  scholde  j^our  trouthe  kepe  and  save.     740 

Trouthe  is  the  heighest  thing  that  men  may  kepe.' 

But  with  that  word  he  gan  anoon  to  wepe. 

And  sayde,  '  I  yow  forbede  up  peyne  of  deth. 

That  never  whil  the  lasteth  lyf  or  breth, 

To  no  wight  telle  thou  of  this  aventure. 

As  I  may  best  I  wil  my  woo  endure. 

Ne  make  no  contenaunce  of  hevynesse. 

That  folk  of  you  may  deme  harm  or  gesse.' 

And  forth  he  eleped  a  squyer  and  a  mayde. 

'  Go  forth  anoon  with  Dorigen,'  he  sayde,  750 

'  And  bryngeth  hir  to  such  a  place  anoon.' 

Thay  take  her  leve,  and  on  her  wey  they  gon ; 


THE   FRANKELEYNES   TALE.  25 

But  thay  ne  wiste  why  sche  thider  wente, 
He  nolde  no  wight  tellen  his  entente. 

This  squyer,  which  that  hight  Aurelius, 
On  Dorigen  that  was  so  amerous. 
Of  adventure  happed  hire  to  mete 
Amyd  the  toun,  right  in  the  quyke  strete ; 
As  sche  was  boun  to  goon  the  wey  forth-right 
Toward  the  gardyn,  ther  as  sche  had  hight.        76O 
And  he  was  to  the  gardyn-ward  also  ; 
For  wel  he  spyede  whan  sche  wolde  go 
Out  of  hir  hous,  to  eny  maner  place. 
But  thus  thay  mette  of  adventure  or  grace, 
And  he  salueth  hir  with  glad  entente, 
And  askith  hire  whider-ward  sche  wente. 
And  sche  answered,  half  as  sche  were  mad, 
'  Unto  the  gardyn,  as  myn  housbond  bad, 
My  trouthe  for  to  holde,  alias  !  alias  ! ' 
Aurilius  gan  wondren  on  this  caas,  770 

And  in  his  hert  hadcZe  gret  compassioun 
Of  hire,  and  of  hir  lamentacioun, 
And  of  Arveragus  the  worthy  knight, 
That  bad  hir  hold  al  that  sche  hadde  hight, 
So  loth  him  was  his  wif  sehuld  breke  hir  trouthe. 
And  in  his  hert  he  caught  of  this  gret  routhe, 
Consideryng  the  best  on  every  syde. 
That  fro  his  lust  yet  were  him  lever  abyde, 
Than  doon  so  high  a  chcerlissch  wrecchednesse 
Agayns  fraunchis  of  alle  gentilesee,  7so 

For  which  in  fewe  wordes  sayd  he  thus. 
'  Madame,  saith  to  your  lord  Arveragus, 
That  sith  I  se  his  grete  gentilesse 
To  you,  and  eek  I  se  wel  your  distresse, 
That  him  were  lever  have  schame  (and  that  were 
routhe) 


20  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

Than  ye  to  me  schulde  breke  youre  trouthe, 

I  have  wel  lever  ever  to  suffre  woo, 

Than  I  departe  the  love  bytwix  yow  tuo. 

I  yoAV  relesse,  madamc,  into  your  hond 

Quyt  every  seurement  and  every  bond  790 

That  ye  ban  maad  to  me  as  herbiforn, 

Sith  thilke  tyme  which  that  ye  were  born. 

My  trouthe  I  plight,  I  schal  yow  never  repreve 

Of  no  byhest,  and  her  I  take  my  leve, 

As  of  the  trewest  and  the  beste  wif 

That  ever  yit  I  knew  in  al  my  lyf. 

But  every  wyf  be  war  of  hir  byhest, 

On  Dorigen  remembreth  atte  lest. 

Thus  can  a  squyer  doon  a  gentil  dede, 

As  wel  as  can  a  kn3'ght,  Avithouten  drede.'  8oo 

Sche  thanketh  him  upon  hir  knees  al  bare. 
And  hoom  unto  hir  housbond  is  sche  fare, 
And  told  him  al,  as  ye  ban  herd  me  sayd ; 
And,  be  ye  siker,  he  was  so  wel  apayd, 
■fhat  it  were  impossible  me  to  write. 
What  schuld  I  longer  of  this  caas  endite  ? 
Arveragus  and  Dorigen  his  wif 
In  sovereyn  blisse  leden  forth  here  lyf, 
Never  eft  ne  was  ther  anger  hem  bytwen ; 
He  cherisscheth  hir  as  though  sche  were  a  queen, 
And  sche  was  to  him  trewe  for  evermore  ;  su 

Of  these  tuo  folk  ye  gcte  of  me  nomore. 

Aurilius,  that  his  cost  hath  al  forlorn, 
Curseth  the  tyme  that  ever  he  was  born. 
'  Alias  ! '  quod  he,  '  alias,  that  I  byhighte 
Of  pured  gold  a  thousand  pound  of  wighte 
Unto  this  philosophre  !  how  schal  I  doo? 
I  se  no  more,  but  that  I  am  for-doo. 


THE   FRANKELEYNES   TALE.  27 

Myn  heritage  moot  I  needes  selle, 

And  ben  a  begger,  her  may  I  not  duelle,  820 

And  schamen  al  my  kynrede  in  this  place, 

But  I  of  him  may  gate  better  grace. 

But  natheles  I  wol  of  him  assaye 

At  certeyn  dayes  yeer  by  yer  to  paye, 

And  thanke  him  of  his  grete  curtesye. 

My  trouthe  wol  I  kepe,  I  wol  noght  lye.' 

With  herte  soor  he  goth  unto  his  cofre, 

And  broughte  gold  unto  this  philosophre, 

The  value  of  fyf  hundred  pound,  I  gesse. 

And  him  bysecheth  of  his  gentilesee  8"0 

To  graunte  him  dayes  of  the  remenaunt ; 

And  sayde,  '  Maister,  I  dar  wel  make  avaunt, 

I  fayled  never  of  my  trouthe  as  yit. 

For  sikerly  my  dettes  schal  be  quyt 

Towardes  yow,  how  so  that  ever  I  fare 

To  goon  a  beggere  in  my  kurtil  bare ; 

But  wolde  ye  vouchesauf  upon  seurtu 

Tuo  yer  or  thre  for  to  respite  me, 

Than  were  I  wel,  for  ellcs  most  I  selle 

Mjn  heritage,  ther  is  nomore  to  telle.'  810 

This  philosophre  sobrely  answerde. 
And  seyde  thus,  whan  he  these  wordcs  herde ; 
'  Have  I  not  holden  covenaunt  unto  the  ? ' 
'  Yis  certes,  wel  and  trewely,'  quod  he. 
'  Hastow  nought  had  thy  lady  as  the  liketh  ? ' 
'  No,  no,'  quod  he,  and  sorwfuUy  he  siketh. 
*  What  was  the  cause  ?  tel  me,  if  thou  can.' 
Aurilius  his  tale  anoon  bygan, 
And  told  him  al  as  ye  ban  herd  bifore, 
It  needeth  nat  to  you  reherse  it  more.  850 

He  sayde,  Arveragus  of  gentilesse 


28  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

Had  lever  dye  in  sorwe  and  in  distresse. 
Than  that  his  \vyf  were  of  hir  trouthe  fals. 
The  sorwe  of  Dorigen  he  tolde  him  als, 
How  loth  hir  was  to  ben  a  wykked  Avyf, 
And  that  sche  lever  had  han  lost  hir  Jyf ; 
And  that  hir  trouthe  sche  swor  thurgh  innocence ; 
Sche  never  erst  hadde  herd  speke  of  apparence ; 
'  That  made  me  han  of  her  so  gret  pyte. 
And  right  as  f rely  as  he  sente  hir  to  me,  860 

As  frely  sent  I  hir  to  him  agayn. 
This  is  al  and  som,  ther  is  no  more  to  saj-n.' 
The  philosopher  answerde,  '  Leva  brother, 
Everich  of  yow  dede  gentilly  to  other ; 
Thow  art  a  squyer,  and  he  is  a  knight, 
But  God  forbede,  for  his  blisful  might, 
But-if  a  clerk  couthe  doon  as  gentil  dede 
As  wel  as  any  of  you,  it  is  no  drede. 
Sire,  I  relesse  the  thy  thousond  pound. 
As  thou  right  now  were  crope  out  of  the  ground, 
Ne  never  er  now  ne  haddest  knowen  me.  871 

For,  sire,  I  wil  not  take  a  peny  of  the 
For  al  my  craft,  ne  nought  for  my  travayla ; 
Thou  hast  y-payed  wel  for  my  vitayle. 
It  is  ynough,  and  far  wel,  have  good  day.' 
And  took  his  hors,  and  forth  he  goth  his  way. 
Lordynges,  this  questioun  wolde  I  axe  now, 
Which  was  the  moste  free,  as  thinketh  yow  ? 
Now  telleth  me,  or  that  I  ferther  wende. 
I  can  no  more,  my  tale  is  at  an  ende.  eso 


THE   SECOUNDE  NONNES   TALE.  29 


THE  SECOUNDE  NONNES  TALE. 

■ajwvVHE  minister  and  the  norice  unto  vices, 
^y   Which    that   men    clepe  in  Englisch 
ydelnesse, 
The  porter  at  the  gates  is  of  delicis ; 
To  eschiewe,  and  by  her  contrary  hire  oppresse, 
That  is  to  saye,  by  lefid  besynesse, 
Wei  oughtc  we  to  do  al  cure  entente, 
Lost  that  the  fond  thurgh  ydelnesse  us  hente. 

For  he  that  with  his  thousand  cordes  slye 
Continuelly  us  wayteth  to  byclappe, 
Whan  he  may  man  in  ydelnes  espye,  lo 

He  can  so  lightly  cacche  him  in  his  trappe, 
Til  that  a  man  be  hent  right  by  the  lappe, 
He  is  nought  war  the  fend  hath  him  in  honde ; 
Wei  oughte  we  wirche,  and  ydelnes  witstonde. 

And  though  men  dreddc  never  for  to  deye, 
Yet  seen  men  wel  by  resoun  douteles, 
That  ydelnes  is  roten  sloggardye. 
Of  which  ther  cometh  never  good  encres  ; 
And  sin  that  slouth  her  holdeth  in  a  lees, 
Oonly  to  sleep,  and  for  to  eto  and  drynke,  20 

And  to  devoure  al  that  other  swynke. 

And  for  to  put  us  from  such  ydelnes. 
That  cause  is  of  so  gret  confusioun, 
I  have  her  doon  my  faithful  busyncs 
After  the  legendc  in  transkicioun 
Right  of  this  glorious  lif  and  passioun, 


30  THE  CANTERBUEY  TALES. 

Thou  with  thi  garlond,  wrought  with  rose  and  lylye, 
The  mene  I,  mayde  and  martir  Cecilie ; 

And  thou,  that  flour  of  virgines  art  alle, 
Of  whom  that  Bernard  luste  so  wel  to  write,        so 
To  the  at  my  bygynnyng  first  I  calle ; 
Thou  comfort  of  us  WTecches,  do  me  endite 
Thy  maydenes  deth,  that  whan  thurgh  hire  merito 
Theternal  lif,  and  of  the  feend  victorie, 
As  man  may  after  reden  in  hir  storie. 

Thou  mayde  and  raoder,  doughter  of  thi  sone, 
Thow  welle  of  mercy,  synful  soules  cure, 
In  whom  that  God  of  bountes  chees  to  w^one ; 
Thou  humble  and  heyh  over  every  creature, 
Thow  nobelecZst  so  ferforth  oure  nature,  40 

That  no  disdcyn  the  maker  had  of  kynde 
His  sone  in  blood  and  fleissh  to  clothe  and  wyndc. 

Withinne  the  cloyster  of  thi  blisful  sydes. 
Took  mannes  schap  the  eternal  love  and  pees, 
That  of  the  trine  compas  lord  and  guyde  is. 
Whom  erthe,  and  see,  and  heven  out  of  relces 
Ay  herien  ;  and  thou,  virgine  wemmeles. 
Bar  of  thy  body,  and  dwellest  mayden  pure. 
The  creatour  of  every  creature. 

Assembled  is  in  the  magnificence  so 

With  mercy,  goodnes,  and  with  such  pitee. 
That  thou,  that  art  the  soune  of  excellence, 
Not  oonly  helpist  hem  that  prayen  the, 
But  often  tyme  of  thy  benignitc 
Ful  frely,  er  that  men  thin  help  biseche. 
Thou  gost  biforn,  and  art  her  lyfes  leche. 

Now  help,  thou  meke  and  blisful  faire  mayde, 
^le  flcraed  wrccchc,  in  this  desert  of  galle ) 
Thenk  on  the  wommau  Cananc,  that  sayde 


THK  SECOUNDE  NONNES  TALE.  31 

That  whelpes  ete  some  of  the  crommes  alle  6o 

That  from  her  lordcs  table  ben  i-falle ; 

And  though  that  I,  unworthy  sone  of  Eve, 

Be  synful,  yet  accepte  my  bileve. 

And  for  that  faith  is  deth  withoutcn  werkis, 

So  for  to  werken  yive  me  witt  and  space, 

That  I  be  quit  fro  thenncs  that  most  derk  is ; 

0  thou,  that  art  so  fair  and  ful  of  grace, 

Be  myn  advocat  in  that  hihe  place, 

Ther  as  withouten  ende  is  songe  Osanne, 

Thou  Cristes  moder,  doughter  deere  of  Anne.       70 
And  of  thi  light  my  soule  in  prisoun  light, 

That  troubled  is  by  the  contagioun 

Of  my  body,  and  also  by  the  wight 

Of  everich  lust  and  fals  affeccioun  ; 
0  heven  of  refuyt,  o  salvacioun 
Of  hem  that  ben  in  sorwe  and  in  destresse. 
Now  help,  for  to  my  Averk  I  wil  me  dresse. 
Yet  pray  I  you  that  reden  that  I  write, 
Foryeve  me,  that  I  doo  no  diligence 
This  ilke  story  subtilly  to  cndite.  so 

For  bothe  have  I  the  wordes  and  sentence 
Of  him,  that  at  the  seintes  reverence 
The  story  wroot,  and  folwen  hir  Icgende, 
And  pray  yow  that  ye  wol  my  work  amende. 
First  wol  I  yow  the  name  of  seint  Cecilie 
Expoune,  as  men  may  in  hir  story  se; 
It  is  to  say  on  Englisch,  hevcnes  lilie, 
For  pure  chastenesse  of  virginitc  ; 
Or  for  sche  witnesse  hadde  of  honestc 
And  grene  of  conscience,  and  of  good  fame  w 

The  sootc  savour,  lilie  was  her  name. 
Or  Cccile  is  to  save,  the  way  of  blynde, 


32  THE   CANTERBUHY   TALES. 

For  sche  ensample  was  by  way  of  techyng ; 
Or  elles  Cecily,  as  I  writen  fynde, 
Is  joyned  by  a  maner  of  conjoynynge 
Of  heven  and  hja,  and  here  in  figurynge 
The  heven  is  sette  for  thought  of  holynesse, 
And  hja,  for  hir  lastyng  besynesse. 

Cecili  may  eek  be  seyd  in  this  manere, 
Wantyng  of  blyndnes,  for  hir  grete  light  loo 

Of  sapience,  and  of  thilke  thewes  cleere. 
Or  elles  lo,  this  maydenes  name  bright 
Of  heven  and  loos  comes,  of  which  by  right 
^Icn  might  hir  wel  the  heven  of  peple  calle, 
Ensample  of  goode  and  wise  werkes  alle. 

For  leos  peple  in  Englissh  is  to  saye ; 
And  right  as  men  may  in  the  heven  see 
The  Sonne  and  moonc,  and  sterres  every  waye, 
Right  so  men  gostly  in  this  mayden  free 
Seen  of  faith  the  magnaniraite,  no 

And  eek  the  clernes  hool  of  sapience. 
And  sondry  werkes,  bright  of  excellence. 

And  right  so  as  these  philosofres  wryte, 
That  heven  is  swyft  and  round,  and  eek  brennynge, 
Right  so  Avas  faire  Cecily  the  whyte 
Ful  swyft  and  besy  ever  in  good  werkynge, 
And  round  and  hool  in  good  perseverynge, 
And  brennyng  ever  in  charite  ful  brighte ; 
Now  have  I  yow  declared  what  sche  highte. 

This  mayden  bright  Cecilie,  as  hir  lyf  saith,   120 
"Was  comen  of  Romayns  and  of  noble  kynde. 
And  from  hir  cradel  up  fostred  in  the  faith 
Of  Crist,  and  bar  his  Gospel  in  hir  mynde ; 
8ehc  never  cessed,  as  I  Avriten  fynde, 
Of  hire  prayer,  and  God  to  love  and  dredo. 


THE   SECOUNDE   NONKES    TALE,  33 

Byseching  him  to  kepe  hir  maydenhedo. 

And  whan  this  mayde  schuld  unto  a  man 
Y-wedded  be,  that  was  ful  yong  of  age, 
Which  that  i-clepcd  was  Yalirian, 
And  day  was  comen  of  hir  mariage,  iso 

Sche  ful  devout  and  humble  in  hir  currage, 
Under  hir  robe  of  gold,  that  sat  ful  fairc, 
Hadde  next  hir  fleissh  i-clad  hir  in  an  heire. 

And  whil  the  organs  made  melodie. 
To  God  alloon  in  herte  thus  sang  sche ; 
'  0  Lord,  my  soule  and  eek  my  body  gye 
Unwemmed,  lest  that  I  confounded  be.' 
And  for  his  love  that  doyde  upon  a  tre, 
Every  secound  or  thridde  day  sche  faste. 
Ay  biddyng  in  hire  orisoims  ful  faste.  i^o 

The  nyght  cam,  and  to  bedde  moste  sche  goon 
With  hir  housbond,  as  oft  is  the  manere, 
And  prively  to  him  sche  saydc  anoon ; 
*  0  swete  and  wel  biloved  spouse  deere, 
Ther  is  a  counseil,  and  ye  wold  it  heere. 
Which  that  right  fayn  I  wold  unto  you  saye, 
So  that  ye  swere  ye  schul  it  not  bywraye.' 

Valirian  gan  fast  unto  hir  swere. 
That  for  no  caas  ne  thing  that  mighte  be. 
Ho  scholde  never  for  iwthinr/e  bywreye  hire  ;       150 
And  thanne  at  erst  thus  to  him  sayde  sche ; 
'  I  have  an  aungel  which  that  loveth  me, 
That  with  gret  love,  wher  so  I  wake  or  slepe, 
Is  redy  ay  my  body  for  to  kepe ; 

'  And  y'lf  that  he  may  felcn,  ante  of  drecle, 
That  ye  me  touche  or  love  in  vilonye, 
He  right  anoon  wil  sle  you  with  the  dede. 
And  in  youre  youthe  thus  schulde  ye  dye. 

VOL.    ITT.  » 


M  THE   CxVNTEREUEY   TALES. 

And  if  that  ye  in  clene  love  me  gye, 

He  wol  yow  love  as  me,  for  your  clennesse,        i60 

And  schewe  to  you  his  joye  and  his  brightnesse.' 

Yalirian,  corrected  as  God  wolde, 
Answcrdo  agayn  :  '  If  I  sehal  truste  the, 
Let  me  that  aungel  se,  and  him  biholde ; 
And  if  that  it  a  verray  aungel  be, 
Than  wol  I  doon  as  thou  hast  prayed  mc ; 
And  if  thou  love  another  man  forsothe 
Right  with  this  swerd  than  wol  I  slee  you  bothc.' 

Cecilie  answerd  anoon  right  in  this  wise ; 
'  If  that  yow  list,  the  aungel  schul  ye  see,  170 

So  that  ye  trowe  on  Crist,  and  you  baptise ; 
Goth  Ibrth  to  Via  Apia,'  quod  sehe, 
'  That  fro  this  toun  ne  stant  but  mj-les  thre. 
And  to  the  pore  folkes  that  ther  duelle 
Saith  hem  right  thus,  as  that  I  sehal  you  telle. 

'  Telle  hem,  I  Cecilie  yow  unto  hem  sentp, 
To  schewcn  yow  the  good  Urban  the  olde, 
For  secre  needcs,  and  for  good  entente  ; 
And  whan  that  ye  seint  Urban  han  byholde. 
Tel  him  tlie  wordes  wliich  that  I  to  yow  tolde  ;  iso 
And  whan  that  he  hath  purged  you  fro  synne, 
Than  schul  ye  se  that  aungel  er  ye  twynne.' 

Valirian  is  to  the  place  y-goon. 
And  riglit  as  him  was  taught  by  his  Icrnynge, 
He  fond  this  holy  old  Urban  anoon 
Among  the  seyntes  buriels  lotynge  ; 
And  he  anoon  withoute  taryinge 
Did  his  message,  and  whan  that  he  it  tplde, 
Urban  for  joye  his  handes  gan  upholde. 

The  teres  from  his  eyghen  lot  he  falle ;  i90 

*  Almyghty  Lord,  0  Jhesu  Crist,'  quod  he, 


THE  SECOTJNDE  NONNES   TALE.  3-3 

*  Sower  of  chaste  counseil,  herde  of  us  alle, 
The  fruyt  of  thilke  seed  of  chastitc 
That  thou  hast  sowe  in  Cecilie,  tak  to  the  ; 
Loo,  lik  a  busj^  bee  withouten  gyle 
The  serveth  ay  thin  owne  thral  Cecile. 

'  For  thilke  spouse,  that  sche  took  right  now 
Ful  Ijk  a  fers  lyoun,  sche  sendeth  here 
As  meek  as  ever  was  eny  lamb  to  yow.' 
And  Avith  that  word  anoon  ther  gan  appere        I'oo 
An  old  man,  clad  in  white  clothes  clere, 
That  had  a  book  with  lettres  of  gold  in  honde, 
And  gan  to-forn  Valirian  to  stonde. 

Valirian,  as  deed,  fyl  doun  for  drede, 
Whan  he  him  say ;  and  he  him  up  hente  tho, 
And  on  his  book  right  thus  he  gan  to  rede ; 
'  0  Lord,  0  feith,  oon  God  withouten  mo, 
On  Christendom,  and  oon  fader  of  alle  also, 
Aboven  alle,  and  over  alle  every  where  ; ' 
These  ivordis  al  with  golde  ywreten  were.  210 

Whan  this  was  radde,  than  sayde  this  olde  man. 
'  Leevsytow  thys  thyng  or  no  ?  say  ye  or  naye.^ 
'  I  leve  al  this  thyng,'  quod  Valerian, 
'  For  sother  thyng  than  this,  I  dare  wel  saye, 
Under  the  hevene  no  wight  ne  thynken  maye.' 
Tho  vanysshed  the  aide  man,  he  nyste  ivliere, 
And  pope  Urban  him  cristencde  right  there, 

Valirian  goth  home,  and  fmt  Cccilic 
Withinne  his  chambre  with  an  aungcl  stonde. 
This  aungel  had  of  roses  and  of  lilie  220 

Corounes  tuo,  the  which  he  bar  in  honde. 
And  first  to  Cecilie,  as  I  understonde, 
He  yaf  that  oon,  and  after  can  he  take 
That  other  to  Valerian  hir  make. 


36  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

'  With  body  clene,  and  with  unwemmed  thought, 
Kepeth  ay  wel  these  corounes,'  quod  he, 
'  Fro  paradys  to  you  I  have  hem  brought, 
Ne  rever  moo  ne  schul  they  roten  be, 
Ne  leese  here  soote  savour,  trusteth  me, 
Ne  never  wight  schal  seen  hem  with  his  ye,      23C 
But  he  be  chast,  and  hate  vilonye. 

'  And  thou,  Valirian,  for  thou  so  soone 
Assentedist  to  good  counseil,  also 
Say  what  the  list,  and  thou  schalt  have  thi  boons.' 
'  1  have  a  brother,'  quod  Valirian  tho, 
*  That  in  this  world  I  love  no  man  so, 
I  pray  yow  that  my  brother  may  have  grace 
To  knowe  the  trouthe,  as  I  doo  in  this  place.' 

Tho  aimgel  sayde,  *  God  liketh  thy  request. 
And  bothe  with  the  palmc  of  martirdom  210 

Ye  schuUen  come  unto  his  blisful  feste.' 
And  with  that  word,  Tiburce  his  brother  com. 
And  whan  that  he  the  savour  undernom, 
Which  that  the  roses  and  the  lilies  caste, 
Withinne  his  hert  he  gan  to  wonder  faste. 

And  sayde,  '  I  Avondre  this  tyme  of  the  yer, 
Whennes  that  soote  savour  cometh  so 
Of  rose  and  lilies,  that  I  smelle  her ; 
For  though  I  had  hem  in  myn  hondes  tuo. 
The  savour  might  in  me  no  depper  go.  250 

The  swete  smel,  that  in  myn  hert  I  fynde, 
Hath  chaunged  me  al  in  another  kynde.' 

Valirian  sayde,  '  Tuo  corouns  have  we, 
Snow-whyt  and  rose-reed,  that  schinen  cleere, 
Whiche  that  thine  eyghen  han  no  might  to  see ; 
And  05  thou  smellcst  hem  thurgh  my  prayere. 
So  schalt  thou  seen  hem,  lieve  brothcre  deere, 


THE  SECOUNDE  NONKES  TALE.  37 

If  it  so  be  thou  wilt  withouten  slouthe 
Bilieven  aright,  and  knowen  verray  trouthc' 

Tyburce  answerde,  ''  Says^  thou  thus  to  me    260 
In  sothenes,  or  in  drem  I  herkne  this  ? ' 
'  In  dremes,'  quod  Valirian,  '  han  we  be 
Unto  this  tyme,  brother  myn,  i-wys, 
But  now  at  erst  in  trouthe  oure  duellyng  is.' 
'  How  wost  thou  this,'  quod  Tyburce,  '  and  in  \\hat 

wise  ? ' 
Quod  Valirian,  *  That  schal  I  the  devyse. 

'  The  aungel  of  God  hath  me  trouthe  y- taught, 
Which  thou  schalt  seen,  if  that  thou  wilt  reneye 
The  ydols,  and  be  clene,  and  dies  nought.' 
(And  of  the  miracles  of  these  corones  tweye       270 
Seynt  Ambrose  in  his  prefas  list  to  se3"e ; 
Solempnely  this  noble  doetour  deere 
Comendeth  it,  and  saith  in  this  maneere. 

The  palme  of  martirdom  for  to  receyve, 
Seynt  Cecilie,  fulfilled  of  Goddes  yifte, 
The  world  and  eek  hir  chamber  gan  sche  weyve ; 
Witnes  Tyburces  and  Cecilies  shrifte. 
To  whiche  God  of  his  bounte  wolde  schifte 
Corounes  tuo,  of  floures  wel  smellynge. 
And  made  his  aungel  hem  the  crounes  brjTige.  250 

The  maydehath  brought  this  men  to  blisse  above; 
The  world  hath  wist  what  it  is  worth  certeyn, 
Devocioun  of  chastite  to  love) 
Tho  schewcd  him  Cecilie  al  open  and  pleyn. 
That  alle  ydoles  nys  but  thing  in  veyn ; 
For  thay  ben  doumbc,  and  thcrto  they  ben  deve, 
And  chargeth  him  his  ydoles  for  to  leve. 

'  Who-so  that  troweth  not  this,  a  best  he  is,' 
Quod  tho  Tyburce,  '  if  that  I  schal  not  lye.' 


38  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

And  sche  gan  kisse  his  brest  that  herde  this,     I'OO 
And  was  f'ul  glad  he  couthe  trouthe  espye ; 
'  This  day  I  take  the  for  myn  allye,' 
Sayde  this  blisful  mayde  fairc  and  deere ; 
And  after  that  sche  sayde  as  ye  may  heere. 

*  Lo,  right  so  as  the  love  of  Crist,'  quod  sche, 
'  Made  me  thy  brotheres  wyf,  right  in  that  wj'se 
Anoon  for  myn  allye  hecr  take  I  the, 
Sin  that  thou  wilt  thync  ydoles  despise. 
Go  with  tliy  brother  now  and  the  baptise, 
And  make  the  clene,  so  that  thou  mowe  biholdc  300 
The  aungeles  fliee,  of  which  thy  brother  tolde.' 

Tyburce  answerde,  and  sayde,  '  Brother  derc, 
First  tel  me  whider  I  schal,  and  to  what  man.' 
'ToAvhom?'  quod  he,  'com  forth  with  nght  good 
I  wol  the  lede  unto  the  pope  Urban.'  [cheere, 

'  Til  Urban  ?  brother  myn  Valirian,' 
Quod  Tiburee,  '  wilt  thou  mo  thider  lede  ? 
Me  thenketh  that  it  were  a  wonder  dede. 

'  Ne  menist  thou  nat  Urban,'  quod  he  tho, 
*  That  is  so  ofte  dampncd  to  the  deed,  310 

And  woneth  in  halkes  alway  to  and  fro, 
And  dar  nought  oones  putte  forth  his  heed  ? 
Men  schold  him  brenne  in  a  fuyr  so  reed. 
If  he  M'cre  founde,  or  if  men  might  him  spye, 
And  wc  also  to  bero  him  companye. 

'  And  whil  we  sekcn  thilke  divinite, 
That  is  i-hyd  in  haven  prively, 
Algate  i-brent  in  this  world  schal  wc  be.' 
To  whom  Cecilie  answerde  boldeJi/, 
'  Men  mightcn  dreden  Avel  and  skilfiJly  320 

This  lyf  to  lese,  myn  oughne  dere  brother. 
If  this  were  lyvj'ng  oonly  and  noon  other. 


THE   SECOUKDE   NONNES   TALE.  39 

'  But  ther  is  better  lif  in  other  place, 
That  never  schal  be  lost,  ne  drcde  the  nought ; 
Which  Goddes  sone  us  tolde  thurgh  his  grace, 
That  fadres  sono  that  allc  thing  hath  wrought ;  , 
And  al  that  wrought  is  with  a  skilful  thought, 
The  gost  that  fro  the  fader  gan  precede, 
Hath  sowled  hem  withouten  eny  drede. 

'  By  word  and  miracle  hihc  Goddes  sone,        330 
Whan  he  Avas  in  this  world,  declared  heere, 
That  ther  was  other  lyf  ther  men  may  M'one.' 
To  whom  answcrde  Tyburce,  '  0  suster  dcero, 
Ne  seydest  thou  right  now  in  this  manere, 
Ther  nys  but  oon  God,  0  Lord,  in  sothfiistnessc. 
And  now  of  thre  how  maystow  here  witnesse?' 

'  That  schal  1  telle,'  quod  sche,  '  er  that  I  go. 
Right  as  a  man  hatli  sapiences  thre, 
Memorie,  cngyne,  and  intellect  also. 
So  in  00  being  in  divinite  340 

Thre  personcs  may  ther  right  wcl  be.' 
Tho  gan  schc  him  ful  bcsily  to  prechc 
Of  Cristes  come,  and  of  his  peynes  techc, 

And  many  pointes  of  his  passioun  ; 
How  Goddes  sone  in  this  world  was  withholde 
To  doon  mankyndc  pleyn  romissioun, 
That  was  i-bounde  in  synnc  and  cares  colde. 
Al  this  thing  sche  unto  Tyburce  tolde, 
And  after  this  Tyburce  in  good  entente, 
With  Yalirian  to  pope  Urban  he  wente,  r.";o 

That  thankcdc  God,  and  with  glad  hert  and  light 
Ho  cristened  him,  and  made  him  in  that  place 
Parfyt  in  his  lernynge,  Goddes  knyght. 
And  after  this  Tliiburcc  gat  such  grace. 
That  every  day  he  say  in  tymc  and  spaco 


40  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

The  aungel  of  God,  and  every  maner  boone 
That  he  God  asked,  it  -were  sped  ful  soone. 

It  "were  ful  hard  by  ordre  for  to  sayne 
How  many  wondres  Jhesus  for  hem  wroughte ; 
But  atte  last,  to  tcllen  schort  and  playn,  teo 

The  sergeantz  of  the  toun  of  Rome  hem  soughte, 
And  hem  byforn  Almache  the  prefect  broughte. 
Which  hem  apposed,  and  knew  alle  here  entente, 
And  to  the  ymage  of  Jubiter  hem  sente ; 

And  saide,  '  Who-so  wil  not  sacrifise, 
Swope  of  his  heved,  this  my  sentence  heere.' 
x\noon  these  martires,  that  I  j'ou  devyse, 
Oon  Maximus,  that  was  an  officere 
Of  the  prefectes,  and  his  corniculere, 
Hem  hent,  and  whan  he  forth  the  seyntes  ladde, 
Himself  he  wept  for  pite  that  he  hadde.  371 

Whan  Maximus  had  herd  the  seintes  lore, 
He  gat  him  of  his  tormentoures  leve, 
And  bad  hem  to  his  hous  withouten  more  ; 
And  with  her  preching,  er  that  it  were  eve, 
Thay  gonne  fro  the  tormentoures  to  reve, 
And  fro  Maximo,  and  fro  his  folk  echoone, 
The  false  faith,  to  trowe  in  God  alloone. 

Cecilie  cam,  whan  it  was  waxen  night. 
With  prestis,  that  hem  cristenid  alle  in  fcere ;   r.80 
And  afterward,  whan  day  was  waxen  light, 
Cecilie  hem  saj'de  with  a  ful  stedefast  chere  ; 
'  Now,  Cristes  owne  knyghtes  leef  and  deere, 
Cast  al  a^\'ay  the  werkes  of  derknes, 
And  armith  you  in  armur  of  brightnes. 

'  Ye  han  forsothe  y-doon  a  greet  batayle ; 
Youre  cours  is  doon,  youre  faith  han  ye  conserved ; 
Goth  to  the  coroun  of  lyf  that  may  not  fayle  ; 


THE  SECOUNDE  NONNES  TALE.  41 

The  rightful  jugge,  ^^^hich  that  ye  han  served, 
Schal  yeve  it  yow,  as  ye  han  it  deserved.'  coo 

And  whan  this  thing  was  sayd,  as  I  devysc, 
Men  ladde  hem  forth  to  doon  the  saerifisc. 

But  whan  they  were  to  the  place  y-brought, 
To  telle  schortly  the  conclusioun, 
They  nolde  encense  ne  sacrifice  right  nought, 
But  on  her  knees  they  setten  hem  adoun, 
With  humble  hert  and  sad  devocioun, 
And  leften  bothe  her  heedes  in  the  place  ; 
Here  soules  wenten  to  the  king  of  grace, 

This  Maxiraus,  that  say  this  th'mg  bctyde,      ■ioo 
With  pitous  teeres  tolde  it  anoon  right, 
That  he  here  soules  saugh  to  heven  glydc 
With  aungels,  ful  of  clernes  and  of  light ; 
And  with  his  word  convertede  many  a  wight. 
For  which  Almachius  dede  him  so  to-betc 
With  whippes  of  leed,  til  he  his  lif  gan  lete. 

Cecilie  him  took,  and  buried  him  anoon 
By  Tiburce  and  Yalirian  softely, 
Withinne  hire  berieng  place,  under  the  stoon. 
And  after  this  Almachius  hastily  no 

Bad  his  ministres  fecchen  openly 
Cecilie,  so  that  sche  might  in  his  presence 
Doon  sacrifice,  and  Jubiter  encense. 

But  they,  converted  at  hir  wise  lore, 
Wepten  ful  sore,  and  yaven  ful  credence 
Unto  hir  word,  and  cryden  more  and  more ; 
*  Crist,  Goddcs  sone.  withoutcn  difference. 
Is  verray  God,  this  is  al  oure  sentence, 
That  hath  so  good  a  servaimt  him  to  serve ; 
Thus  with  oon  vois  we  trowen,  though  we  sterve.' 

Almachius,  that  herd  of  this  doynge,  421 


42  THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 

Bad  fccchen  Cecilie,  that  he  might  hir  se  ; 
And  althcr-first,  lo,  this  was  his  axingc : 
'  What  maner  womman  art  thou  '?'  quod  he. 
'  I  am  a  gentil-womraan  born,'  quod  sche. 
'  I  axe  the,'  quod  he,  '  though  the  it  greve, 
Of  thi  rchgioun  and  of  thi  byleve.' 

'  Ye  han  bygonne  your  questioun  fohly,' 
Quod  sche,  '  that  wolden  tuo  answers  conchide 
In  00  demaundc  ;  ye  axen  lewedly.'  430 

Almache  answerde  to  that  similitude, 
'  Of  whens  cometh  thin  answering  so  rude?' 
'  Of  whens?'  quod  sche,  whan  sche  was  i-freyned, 
'  Of  conscience,  and  of  good  faith  unfeyned.' 

Almachius  sayde,  '  Takest  thou  noon  heedc 
Of  my  power?'  and  sche  answerde  him  this  ; 
'  Youre  might,'  quod  sche,  '  ful  litel  is  to  drcde ; 
For  every  mortal  mannes  power  nys 
But  lyk  a  bladder  ful  of  wynd,  i-Avis ; 
For  with  a  nedeles  poynt,  whan  it  is  blowe,       410 
May  al  the  host  of  it  be  layd  ful  lowe.' 

'  Ful  wrongfully  hygonne  thou,'  quod  he, 
'  And  yet  in  wrong  is  thy  perseveraunee. 
Wostow  nought  how  oure  mighty  princes  frc 
Han  thus  comaunded  and  maad  ordinaunce, 
That  every  cristen  wight  schal  han  penaunce, 
But  if  that  he  his  Cristendom  withseye, 
And  goon  al  quyt,  if  he  Avil  it  reneye  ?  ' 

'  Youre  princes  erre,  as  youre  noblcyc  doth,' 
Quoth  tho  Cecilie  ;  '  and  with  a  wood  sentence  450 
Ye  make  us  gulty,  and  it  is  nought  soth  ; 
For  ye  that  knowen  wel  oure  innocence, 
Forasmoche  as  we  doon  ay  reverence 
To  Crist,  and  for  we  here  a  Cristen  name. 


THE   SECOUNDE   NONNES   TALE.  43 

Ye  puttcn  on  us  a  cryni  and  eek  a  blame. 

'  But  we  that  knowen  thilke  name  so 
For  vertuous,  avc  may  it  not  withseye.' 
Almache  sayde,  '  Cheese  oon  of  these  tuo, 
Do  sacrifice  or  Cristendom  reneye, 
That  thou  mow  now  cschapen  by  that  weye.'     leo 
At  which  the  holy  blisful  faire  mayde 
Gan  for  to  laughc,  and  to  the  jugge  sayde ; 

'  0  jugge  confuse  in  this  nycetc, 
Wilt  thou  that  I  reneye  innocence  ? 
To  make  me  a  wikked  wight/  quod  sche. 
'  Lo,  he  dissimuleth  hecr  in  audience, 
He  starith  and  woodith  in  his  advertence.' 
To  whom  Almachius  sayde,  '  Unsely  wrecche, 
Ne  wostow  nought  how  fer  my  might  may  strecche  ? 

'  Han  nought  our  mighty  princes  to  me  y-yiven, 
Ye  bothe  power  and  eek  auctorite  J7i 

To  make  folk  to  deyen  or  to  lyven  ? 
"Why  spekestow  so  proudly  than  to  me  ?  ' 
'  I  speke  not  but  stedefastly,'  quod  sche, 
*  Nought  proudly,  for  I  say,  as  for  my  syde. 
We  haten  decdh-  thilke  vice  of  pryde. 

'  And  if  thou  drede  nought  a  soth  to  hcere, 
Than  wol  I  schcwe  al  openly  by  right, 
That  thou  hast  maad  a  ful  greet  lesyng  heerc. 
Thou  saist,  thy  princes  han  i-yive  the  might      430 
Bothe  for  to  sleen  and  eek  to  quike  a  wight, 
Thou  that  ne  maist  but  oonly  lif  byreve. 
Thou  hast  noon  other  power  no  no  levc. 

'  But  thou  maist  sayn,  thi  princes  han  tlic  niaked 
Minister  of  deth :  for  if  thou  speke  of  moo, 
Thow  liest ;  for  thy  power  is  ful  naked.' 
'  Do'way  thy  lewedness,'  sayd  Almachius  tho, 


44  THE  CANTERBURY   TALES. 

'  And  sacrifice  to  oure  goddes,  er  thou  go. 

I  recche  nought  what  wrong  that  thou  me  profre, 

For  I  can  sufFre  it  as  a  philosophre.  iso 

'  But  thilke  wronges  may  I  not  endure, 
That  thou  spekisi  of  oure  goddis  her/  quod  he. 
Cecilie  answered,  *  0  nice  creature. 
Thou  saydest  no  word  sins  thou  spak  to  me, 
That  I  ne  knew  therwith  thy  nicete. 
And  that  thou  were  in  every  maner  wise 
A  lewed  officer,  a  vein  justise. 

'  Ther  lakketh  no  thing  to  thin  outer  eyen 
That  thou  art  blynd ;  for  thing  that  we  seen  alle 
That  it  is  stoon,  that  men  may  wel  aspien,        500 
That  ilke  stoon  a  god  thou  wilt  it  calle. 
I  rede  the,  let  thin  hond  upon  it  falle. 
And  tast  it  wel,  and  stoon  thou  schalt  it  fynde  ; 
Sith  that  thou  seest  not  with  thin  eyghen  blynde. 

*  It  is  a  schame  that  the  poeple  schal 
So  scorne  the,  and  laughe  at  thi  folye ; 
For  comunly  men  woot  it  wel  overal. 
That  mighty  God  is  in  his  heven  hye ; 
And  these  ymages,  wel  thou  mayst  espie, 
To  the  ne  to  hemself  may  nought  profyte,         oio 
For  in  effect  they  ben  nought  worth  a  myte.' 

Thise  wordes  and  such  other  sayde  sche ; 
And  he  wax  wroth,  and  bad  men  schold  hir  lede 
Horn  to  hir  hous  ;  '  And  in  hir  hous,'  quod  he, 
'  Brenne  hir  right  in  a  bath  of  flammes  rede,' 
And  as  he  bad,  right  so  was  doon  the  dede ; 
For  in  a  bath  thay  gonne  hir  faste  schetten, 
And  nyght  and  day  greet  fuyr  they  under  betten. 

The  long  night,  and  eek  a  day  also, 
For  al  the  fuyr,  and  eek  the  bathes  hete,  520 


THE   SECOUNDE   NONNES   TALE.  45 

Sche  sat  al  cold,  and  felte  of  it  no  woo, 
Hit  made  hir  not  oon  drope  for  to  swete. 
But  in  that  bath  hir  lif  sche  moste  lete ; 
For  he  Almachius,  with  ful  wikke  entente, 
To  sleen  hir  in  the  bath  his  sondes  sente. 

Thre  strokes  in  the  nek  he  smote  hir  tho 
The  tormentour,  but  for  no  raaner  chaunce 
He  mighte  nought  smyte  hir  faire  necke  a-tuo. 
And  for  ther  was  that  tyme  nn  ordinaunce 
That  no  man  scholde  do  man  such  penaunce      -530 
The  ferthe  strok  to  smyten,  softe  or  sore, 
This  tormentour  ne  dorste  do  no  more  ; 

But  half  deed,  with  hir  nekke  corven  there 
He  laft  hir  lye,  and  on  his  way  is  went. 
Tho  cristen  folk,  which  that  about  hir  were, 
With  scheetes  han  the  body  ful  faire  y-lient ; 
Thre  dayes  lyA'cde  sche  in  this  torment, 
And  never  cessed  hem  the  faith  to  teehe. 
That  sche  haddefostred  hem,  sche  gan  to  preche. 

And  hem  sche  yaf  hir  moebles  and  hir  thing. 
And  to  the  pope  Urban  bytook  hem  tho,  541 

And  sayde  thics,  '  I  axe  this  of  heven  kyng, 
To  have  respit  thre  dayes  and  no  mo. 
To  recomende  to  yow,  er  that  I  go. 
These  soules  lo,  and  that  I  might  do  wirche 
Heer  of  myn  hous  perpetuelly  a  chirche.' 

Seynt  Urban,  with  his  dekenes  prively 
The  body  fette,  and  buried  it  by  nighte 
Among  his  other  seyntes  honestely. 
Hir  hous  the  chirch  of  seynt  Cecily  yit  highte ; 
Seynt  Urban  halwed  it,  as  he  wel  mighte ;         551 
In  which  into  this  day  in  noble  wyse 
Men  doon  to  Crist  and  to  his  scint  servise. 


46       THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


THE  PROLOGE  OF  THE  CHANOUNES 
YEMAN. 

HAN"  ended  was  the  lif  of  seynt  Cecils, 
Er  we  fully  hadde  riden  fyve  myle, 
At  Boughtoun  under  Blee  us  gan  atake 
A  man,  that  clothed  was  in  clothes 
blake, 
And  under  that  he  had  a  whit  surplice, 
His  hakeney,  that  was  a  poraely  grice, 
So  swete,  that  it  wonder  was  to  se, 
It  semed  he  hadde  priked  myles  thre. 
The  hors  eek  that  his  "iceman  rood  upon. 
So  swette,  that  unnethcs  might  he  goon.  lo 

Aboute  the  peytrel  stood  the  foom  ful  hye, 
He  was  of  foom  as  flekked  as  a  pye. 
A  male  tweyfold  on  his  cropcr  lay, 
It  semede  that  he  caricde  litel  array, 
Al  light  for  somer  rood  this  worthy  man. 
And  in  myn  herte  wondren  I  bigan 
What  that  he  was,  til  that  I  imderstood, 
How  that  his  cloke  was  sowed  unto  his  hood ; 
For  which  whan  I  long  had  avysed  me, 
I  demed  him  som  ehanoun  for  to  be.  20 

His  hat  heng  at  his  bak  doun  by  a  laas, 
For  he  hadde  riden  more  than  trot  or  paas, 
He  had  i-pryked  lik  as  he  were  Avood. 
A  cloote-leef  he  had  under  his  hood 
For  swoot,  and  for  to  kepe  his  heed  from  hete. 
But  it  was  joye  for  to  se7i  him  swete ; 


PROLOGE  OF  THE   CHANOUNES  YEMxVN.    47 

His  forhed  dropped  as  a  sLillatorie 

Were  ful  of  plantayn  and  of  peritorie. 

And  whannc  that  he  was  com,  he  gan  to  crie, 

*  God  save/  quod  he,  '  this  joly  compaignye  !        so 

Fast  have  I  priked/  quod  he,  '  for  your  sake, 

Byeause  that  I  wolde  you  overtake. 

To  ryden  in  this  raery  companye.' 

His  Yeman  eek  was  ful  of  curtesye, 
And  seide,  '  Sires,  now  in  the  morwe  tyde 
Out  of  your  osteh-y  I  saugh  you  ryde, 
And  warned  heer  my  lord  and  my  soverayn, 
Which  that  to  ryden  with  yow  is  ful  fayn. 
For  his  desport ;  he  loveth  daliaunce.' 
'  Frend,  for  thy  warnyngGod  yevc  the  good  chaunce,' 
Sayde  oure  Host,  '  for  certes  it  wolde  seme         ii 
Thy  lord  were  wys,  and  so  I  may  wel  deme ; 
He  is  ful  jocound  also  dar  I  leye ; 
Can  ho  ought  telle  a  mery  talc  or  tweye, 
With  which  he  glade  may  this  companye  ?' 

'  Who,  sire  ?  my  lord  ?     Ye,  ye,  withoute  lye, 
He  can  of  merthe  and  eek  of  jolite 
Not  but  ynough  ;  also,  sir,  trusteth  me. 
And  ye  him  knewe  as  wel  as  do  I, 
Ye  wolde  wonder  how  wel  and  thriftily  50 

He  couthe  werke,  and  that  in  sondry  wise. 
Ho  hath  take  on  him  many  sondry  emprise, 
Which  were  ful  hard  for  eny  that  is  heero 
To  bringe  aboute,  but  thay  of  him  it  leere. 
As  homely  as  he  ryt  amonges  yow, 
If  ye  him  knewe,  it  wolde  be  your  prow  ; 
Ye  nolde  nought  for-gon  his  acqueyntaunce 
For  moche  good,  I  dar  lay  in  balaunce 
Al  that  I  have  in  my  posscssioun. 


48  THE   CANTERBURY    TALES. 

He  is  a  man  of  heigh  discressioun,  6ft 

I  warne  yow  \vc\,  he  is  a  passyng  man." 

'  Wei,'  quod  our  Oost,  '  I  pray  the,  tel  me  than, 
Is  he  a  clerk,  or  noon  ?  tel  what  he  is.' 
*  Nay,  he  is  gretter  than  a  clerk  i-wis,' 
Sayde  the  Yeman,  '  and  in  -vvordcs  fewe, 
Ost,  of  his  craft  somwhat  I  wii  you  schewe. 
I  say,  my  lord  can  such  a  subtilite,  ; 
(But  al  his  craft  ye  may  nought  wite  of  me, 
And  somwhat  helpe  I  yit  to  his  worchynge), 
That  al  this  ground  on  which  we  ben  ridynge      70 
Til  that  we  comen  to  Caunterbury  toun, 
He  couthe  al  clene  turnen  up  so  doun, 
And  pave  it  al  of  silver  and  of  gold.' 

And  whan  this  Yeman  hadde  thus  i-told 
Unto  ouro  Oost,  he  seyde,  '  Benediclte  ! 
This  thing  is  wonder  merveylous  to  me, 
Syn  that  this  lord  is  of  so  heigh  prudence, 
Bycause  of  which  men  schuld  him  reverence. 
That  of  his  worschip  rekketh  lie  so  lite  ; 
His  over  slop  it  is  not  worth  a  myte  so 

As  in  effect  to  him,  so  mot  I  go ; 
It  is  al  bawdy  and  to-tore  also. 
Why  is  thi  lord  so  slottisch,  I  the  preye, 
And  is  of  power  better  clothis  to  beye. 
If  that  his  dede  accorde  with  thy  speche  ? 
Telle  me  that,  and  that  I  the  biseche.' 

'  Why  ?'  quod  this  Yeman,  '  wherto  axe  ye  me  ? 
God  help  me  so,  for  he  schal  never  the, 
(But  I  wol  nought  avowe  that  I  say. 
And  therfor  kep  it  secre  I  yow  pray)  90 

He  is  to  wys  in  faith,  as  I  bileve. 
That  that  is  over-don,  it  wil  nought  preve 


PROLOG E   OF   THE   CIIA^TOUNES   YEMAN.     4.) 

Aright,  as  clei'kes  sciii,  it  is  a  vice  ; 

Wherfbre  in  that  I  holde  him  lewed  and  nyce. 

For  whan  a  man  hath  over-greet  a  witte, 

Ful  ofto  him  happeth  to  mysusen  itte ; 

So  doth  my  lord,  and  that  me  greveth  sore. 

God  it  amende,  I  can  saye  now  nomore.' 

'  Therof  no  tors,  good  Yeman,'  quod  oure  Ost, 

•  Syn  of  the  connyng  of  thi  lord  thou  wost,         loo 

Tel  how  he  doth,  I  pray  the  hertily, 

Sin  that  he  is  so  crafty  and  so  sly. 

Wher  dwellen  ye,  if  it  to  telle  be  ?' 

'  In  the  subarbes  of  a  toun,'  quod  he, 

'  Lurking  in  hirnes  and  in  lanes  blyndc, 

Wher  as  these  robbours  and  these  theves  by  kyndo 

Holden  here  prive  ferful  residence, 

As  thay  that  dor  nought  schewen  her  presence ; 

So  faren  we,  if  I  schal  saye  the  sothe.' 

'  Now,'  quod  oure  Ost, '  yit  let  me  talke  to  the  ;  no 

Why  artow  so  discoloured  on  thy  face  ?' 

'  Peter  !'  quod  he,  *  God  yive  it  harde  grace, 

I  am  so  used  in  the  fuyr  to  blowe. 

That  it  hath  chaunged  my  colour  I  trowe ; 

I  am  not  wont  in  no  mirour  to  prie. 

But  swynke  sore,  and  lerne  to  multiplie. 

We  blondren  ever,  and  pom-en  in  the  fuyi', 

And  for  al  that  we  faile  of  oure  desir, 

For  ever  we  lacken  oure  conclusioun. 

To  moche  folk  we  ben  hot  illusioun,  iso 

And  borwe  gold,  be  it  a  poimd  or  tuo, 

Or  ten  or  twelve,  or  many  sommcs  mo, 

And  make  hem  wencn  atte  leste  wcye, 

That  of  a  pound  wc  conne  make  tweye. 

Yit  is  it  fals ;  and  ay  we  han  good  hope 

VOL.  HI.  E 


50  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

It  for  to  (loon,  and  after  it  we  grope. 

But  that  science  is  so  fer  us  biforn, 

We  mowen  nought,  although  we  had  it  sworn, 

It  overtake,  it  slyt  away  so  faste ; 

It  wol  us  make  beggers  atte  laste.'  ino 

Whil  this  Yeman  was  thus  in  his  talkyng, 
This  Chanoun  drough  him  ner  and  herd  al  thing 
Which  that  this  Yeman  spak,  for  suspeccioun 
Of  mcnnes  speche  ever  hadde  this  Chanoun  ; 
For  Catoun  saith,  that  he  that  gulty  is, 
Demeth  al  thing  be  spoke  of  him,  i-Avis ; 
By-cause  of  that  he  gan  so  neigh  to  drawe 
His  Yeman,  that  he  herde  al  his  sawe ; 
And  thus  he  sayd  unto  his  Yeman  tho ; 
'  Hold  now  thi  pees,  and  spek  no  wordes  mo  ;     uo 
For  if  thou  do,  thou  schalt  it  deere  abye  : 
Thow  sclaundrest  me  here  in  this  companyc, 
And  eek  discoverest  that  thou  schuldest  hide.' 
'  Ye,'  quod  ourc  Ost,  '  tel  on,  what  so  bytyde , 
Of  alle  this  thretyng  recche  the  nought  a  myte.' 
'  In  faith,'  quod  he,  '  no  more  do  I  but  lite.' 
And  whan  this  Chanoun  scih  it  Avolde  not  be, 
But  this  Yeman  wolde  telle  his  privete, 
He  fledde  away  for  verray  sorwe  and  schame. 
'  A  ! '  quod  this  Yeman,  '  her  schal  arise  game ; 
Al  that  I  can  anoon  now  wol  I  telle,  loi 

Sin  he  is  goon  ;  the  foul  feeud  him  quelle  ! 
For  never  herafter  wol  I  Avith  him  meete 
For  peny  ne  for  pound,  I  wol  byheete. 
He  that  me  broughte  first  unto  that  game, 
Er  that  he  deye,  sorwe  have  he  and  schame ! 
For  it  is  ernest  to  me,  by  my  faith ; 
That  fele  I  wel,  what-so  eny  man  saith ; 


PROLOGS  OF  THE  CHANOUNES  YEMAN.       51 

And  yet  for  al  my  smert,  and  al  my  greef, 

For  al  my  sorwe,  and  labour,  and  mescheef,        igo 

I  couthe  never  leve  it  in  no  wise. 

Now  wolde  God  my  wyt  mighte  suffiso 

To  tellen  al  that  longeth  to  that  art ; 

But  natheles,  yet  wil  I  telle  yow  part ; 

iSin  that  my  lord  is  goon,  I  wol  nought  spare, 

Such  thing  as  that  I  knowe,  I  wol  declare. 

'  With  this  Chanoun  I  duelled  have  seven  yer 
And  of  his  science  am  I  never  the  ner  ; 
Al  that  I  hadde,  I  have  i-lost  therby. 
And  God  wot,  so  hath  many  mo  than  I.  170 

Ther  I  was  Avont  to  be  right  freisch  and  gay 
Of  clothing,  and  of  other  good  array. 
Now  may  I  were  an  hose  upon  myn  heed ; 
And  where  my  colour  was  bothe  freissch  and  reed. 
Now  it  is  wan,  and  of  a  leden  hewe, 
(Who-so  it  useth,  sore  schal  he  rewe)  ; 
And  of  my  swynk  yet  blended  is  myn  ye  ; 
Lo  !  such  avauntage  it  is  to  multiplie  I 
That  slydynge  science  hadde  me  made  so  bare, 
That  I  have  no  good,  whcr  that  ever  1  fare ;       iso 
And  yit  I  am  endetted  so  therby 
Of  gold,  that  I  have  borwed  trewely, 
That  whil  I  lyve  schal  I  it  quite  never ; 
Lat  every  man  be  war  by  mc  for  ever. 
What  maner  man  that  casteth  him  therto, 
If  he  continue,  I  lioldc  his  thrift  i-do  : 
So  help  mc  God,  therby  schal  he  not  Avynnc, 
But  cmpte  his  purs,  and  make  his  wittos  thymic. 
And  whan  he,  thurgh  his  madncs  and  folyc. 
Hath  lost  his  owne  good  in  jeupardie,  ico 

Than  he  cxcitcth  other  men  therto, 


52  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

To  leese  her  good,  as  he  himself  hath  do. 

For  unto  schrewes  joy  it  is  and  ese 

To  have  here  felawes  in  peyne  and  desese. 

Thus  was  I  oones  lerned  of  a  clerk ; 

Of  that  no  charge  ;  I  wol  speke  of  oure  werk. 

Whan  wo  ben  ther  as  we  schul  exercise 

Oure  elvyssh  craft,  we  seme  wonder  Avyse, 

Oure  termes  ben  so  clergeal  and  queynte. 

I  blowe  the  fuyr  til  that  myn  herte  feynte.        200 

What  schulde  I  telle  ech  proporcioun 

Of  thinges  which  that  we  werke  up  and  doun, 

As  an  fyve  or  six  ounces,  may  wel  be, 

Of  silver,  or  som  other  quantite  ? 

And  besy  me  to  telle  yow  the  names 

Of  orpiment,  brent  bones,  yren  squamcs, 

That  into  poudre  grounden  ben  fill  smal  ? 

And  in  an  erthen  pot  how  put  is  al. 

And  salt  y-put  in,  and  also  pauperc, 

Biforn  these  poudres  that  I  speke  of  heere,        210 

And  wel  i-covered  with  a  lamp  of  glas  ? 

And  of  moche  other  thing  what  that  ther  was  ? 

And  of  the  pot  and  glasis  en^rlutyng, 

That  of  the  aier  mighte  passe  no  thing  ? 

And  of  the  esy  fuyr,  and  smart  also. 

Which  that  was  maad  ?  and  of  the  care  and  wo, 

That  we  hadde  in  oure  matiers  sublymynge, 

And  in  amalgamynge,  and  calcenynge 

Of  quyksilver,  y-clept  mercury  crude  ? 

For  alle  oure  sleightes  we  can  nought  conclude.  220 

Oure  orpiment,  and  sublyment  mercuric, 

Oure  grounde  litarge  eek  on  the  porfurye, 

Of  ech  of  these  of  ounces  a  certajn 

Nat  helpeth  us,  oure  laboure  is  in  vayn. 


PROLOGE  OF  THE  CIIANOUNES  YEMAN.      53 

Ne  eek  oure  spiritcs  ascencioun, 

Ne  eek  our  matiers  that  lyn  al  fix  adoun, 

Mowe  in  oure  werkyng  us  no  thing  avaylc  ; 

For  lost  is  al  oure  labour  and  travayle, 

And  al  the  cost  on  twenty  devel  waye 

Is  lost  also,  which  we  upon  it  laye.  230 

Ther  is  also  ful  many  another  thing, 

That  is  to  oure  craft  appertenyng, 

Though  I  by  ordre  hem  here  reherse  ne  can, 

Bycaiise  that  I  am  a  lowed  man, 

Yet  wil  I  telle  hem,  as  they  come  to  mynde, 

Though  I  ne  conne  nought  sette  hem  in  her  kynde  ; 

As  bol  armoniak,  verdegres,  boras ; 

And  sondry  vessels  maad  of  erthe  and  glas, 

Oure  urinals  and  cure  descensories, 

Viols,  croslets,  and  sublimatories,  :?40 

Concurbites,  and  alembikes  eeke. 

And  othere  suche,  deere  y-nough  a  leeke, 

Nat  needith  it  to  rehersen  hem  alle  ; 

Watres  rubi/ying,  and  boles  galle, 

Arsnek,  sal  armoniak,  and  brimstoon. 

And  herbes  couthe  I  telle  eek  many  oon, 

As  egrimoigne,  valirian,  and  lunarie, 

And  other  suche,  if  that  me  list  to  tarie  ; 

Oure  lampes  brennyng  bothe  night  and  daye. 

To  bringe  aboute  oure  craft  if  that  we  maye ;     250 

Oure  fournics  eek  of  calcinacioun. 

And  of  watres  albificacioun, 

Unslekked  lym,  chalk,  and  glayre  of  an  oy, 

Poudres  dyvers,  aisschcs,  dong,  pisse,  and  eley, 

Cored  pokctts,  sal  pctre,  vitriole ; 

And  dy\'ers  fuyres  maad  of  woode  and  cole ; 

Salt  tartre,  alcaly,  and  salt  preparat, 


54  THE  CANTERBURY    TALES. 

And  combust  matieres,  and  coagulat ; 

Cley  maad  with  hors  or  mannes  her,  and  oyle 

Of  tartrc,  alym,  glas,  berm,  wort,  and  argoyle,  260 

Resalgar,  and  oiire  matiers  enbibing ; 

And  eek  of  ourc  matiers  encorporing, 

And  of  oure  silver  citrinacioun. 

Our  cemcntynge  and  fermentacioun, 

Oure  yngottcs,  testes,  and  many  mo. 

I  wol  you  telle  as  was  me  taught  also 

The  foure  spiritz,  and  the  bodies  seven 

By  ordre,  as  ofte  herd  I  my  lord  neven. 

The  firste  spirit  quyksilver  called  is ; 

The  secound  orpiment ;  the  thridde  i-wis  270 

Sal  armoniac,  and  the  ferthe  bremstoon. 

The  bodies  seven,  eek,  lo  hem  heer  anoon. 

Sol  gold  is,  and  Luna  silver  we  threpe ; 

Mars  yren.  Mercuric  quyksilver  we  clepe ; 

Saturnus  leed,  and  Jubitur  is  tyn, 

And  Venus  coper,  by  my  fader  kyn, 

'  This  cursed  craft  who  so  wol  exercise, 
He  schal  no  good  han  that  may  him  sufRse ; 
For  al  the  good  he  spendeth  theraboute 
He  lese  schal,  therof  have  I  no  doute.  cso 

Who-so  that  list  to  outen  his  folye. 
Let  him  come  forth  and  lerne  multiplie  : 
And  every  man  that  hath  ought  in  his  oofro, 
Let  him  appiere,  and  wexe  a  philosofre, 
Aseauns  that  craft  is  so  light  to  lere. 
Nay,  nay,  God  wot,  al  be  he  monk  or  frero, 
Prest  or  chanoun,  or  eny  other  wight 
Though  he  sit  at  his  book  bothe  day  and  night 
In  lernyng  of  this  elvysch  nice  lore, 
Al  is  in  vayn,  and  parde  moche  more  200 


PROLOGE  OF  THE  CHANOUNES  TEMAN.      55 

Is  to  lerne  a  lewed  man  this  subtilte ; 

Fy,  spek  not  therof,  for  it  wil  not  be. 

Al  couthe  he  letterure,  or  coathe  he  noon, 

As  in  effect,  he  schal  fynd  it  al  oon ; 

For  bothe  tuo  by  my  sa^'acioun 

Concluden  in  multiplicacioun 

I-liche  wel,  whan  thay  han  al  y-do  ; 

This  is  to  sayn,  thay  fayle  bothe  tno. 

Yet  foryat  I  to  make  rehcrsayle 

Of  watres  eorosif.  and  of  lymayle,  300 

And  of  bodyes  mollificacioun, 

And  also  of  here  enduraeiomi, 

Oyles  ablncioun.  and  metal  fusible, 

To  tell  en  al,  wolde  passen  eny  bible 

That  owher  is ;  wherfore,  as  for  the  beste. 

Of  alls  these  names  now  wil  I  me  reste : 

For,  as  I  trowe,  I  have  yow  told  y-nowe 

To  reyse  a  feend,  al  loke  he  never  so  rowe, 

A,  nay,  let  be ;  the  philosophre  stoon. 

Elixir  clept,  we  sechen  fast  echoon,  310 

For  hadfZe  we  him,  than  were  we  sykcr  y-iiough  ; 

But  unto  God  of  heven  I  make  avow, 

For  al  cure  craft,  whan  we  han  al  y-do. 

And  al  oure  sleight,  he  wol  not  come  us  to. 

He  hath  i-made  us  spende  moehe  good. 

For  sorwe  of  which  almost  we  wexen  wood. 

But  that  good  hope  crepeth  in  oure  herte, 

Supposing  ever,  though  we  sore  smerte, 

To  ben  relieved  by  him  after-ward. 

^SucAe  supposing  and  hope  is  scharp  and  hard.     330 

I  warne  you  wel  it  is  to  seken  ever. 

That  future  temps  hath  made  men  dissevero. 

In  trust  therof,  from  al  tliat  ever  they  haddi\ 


56  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

Yet  of  tliat  art  tliay  conne  nought  wexe  sadde, 

For  unto  liein  it  is  a  bitter  swete  ; 

So  scmeth  it ;  for  nadde  thay  but  a  scheete 

Which  thay  mighte  wrappe  hem  in  a-night, 

And  a  bak  to  walke  inne  by  day-light. 

They  wolde  hem  sellc,  and  spenden  on  this  craft ; 

Thay  can  nought  stinte,  til  no  thing  be  laft.       3:3a  , 

And  evermore,  wher  that  ever  they  goon, 

Men  may  liem  knowe  by  smel  of  bremstoon  ; 

For  al  the  world  thay  stynken  as  a  goot ; 

Her  savour  is  so  rammyssch  and  so  hoot, 

That  though  a  man  fro  hem  a  myle  be, 

The  savour  wol  infecte  him,  trusteth  me. 

Lo.  thus  by  smellyng  and  by  thred-bare  arrays, 

If  that  men  list,  this  folk  they  knowe  mayc. 

And  if  a  man  wol  aske  hem  prively, 

Why  thay  ben  clothed  so  un thriftily,  r>io 

Right  anoon  thay  wol  rounen  in  his  eere, 

And  say,  if  that  thay  espied  were, 

Men  wold  hem  slee,  bycause  of  here  science ; 

Lo,  thus  this  folk  by  tray  en  innocence. 

Passe  over  this,  I  go  my  tale  unto. 

Er  than  the  pot  be  on  the  fuyr  j'-do 

Of  metals  with  a  certeyn  quantite, 

My  lord  hem  tempreth,  and  no  man  but  he  ; 

(Now  he  is  goon,  I  dar  saye  boldely) 

For  as  men  sayn,  he  can  doon  craftily ;  C50 

Algate  I  wot  wel  he  hath  such  a  name, 

And  yet  ful  ofte  he  renneth  in  a  blame ; 

'  And  wite  ye  how  ?  ful  ofte  it  happeth  so, 
The  pot  to-breketh,  and  farwel,  al  is  goo. 
These  metals  been  of  so  gret  violence, 
Oure  walles  may  not  make  hem  resistence, 


PROLOGE   OF    THE   CHANOUNES    YE.MAN.     Oi 

But  if  thay  were  wrought  of  lyin  and  stoon  ; 
Thay  perccu  so,  tliat  Ihurgh  the  wal  thay  goon  ; 
And  some  of  hem  synken  into  the  grounde, 
(Thus  have  wo  lost  by  tymes  many  a  pounde),  sgo 
And  some  are  skatered  al  the  floor  aboute ; 
^^ome  lepe  into  the  roof,  withouten  doute. 
Though  that  the  feend  nought  in  cure  sight  him 

schewe, 
I  trowe  that  he  witli  us  be,  that  schrewe  ! 
In  helle,  wher  that  he  is  lord  and  sire, 
Nis  ther  no  more  Avoo,  ne  anger,  ne  ire. 
Whan  that  cure  pot  is  broke,  as  I  have  sayd, 
Every  man  chyt,  and  halt  him  evel  apayd. 
Som  sayd  it  was  long  on  the  fuyr-makyng ; 
Some  sayde  nay,  it  v/as  on  the  blowyng ;  gto 

(Than  was  I  ferd,  for  that  was  myn  office). 
'  Straw!'  quod  the  thridde,  'ye  been  lowed  and  nyce, 
It  was  nought  temprcd  as  it  oughte  be.' 
'  Nay,'  quod  the  ferthe,  '  stynt  and  herknc  me  ; 
Bycause  oure  fuyr  was  nought  y-maad  of  beech, 
That  is  the  cause,  and  other  noon,  so  theech.' 
I  can  not  telle  wheron  it  fs  along, 
But  wel  I  woot  gret  stryf  is  us  among. 
*  What?  '  quod  my  lord, '  ther  is  no  more  to  doone, 
Of  these  periles  I  wol  be  war  eftsoone.  sso 

I  am  right  sikcr,  that  the  pot  was  erased. 
Be  as  be  may,  be  ye  no  thing  amased. 
As  usage  is,  let  swoope  the  floor  as-swithe  ; 
Pluk  up  your  hertes  and  beth  glad  and  blitlie.' 
The  mullok  on  an  heep  i-swoped  was, 
And  on  the  floor  y-cast  a  canevas. 
And  al  this  mulloc  in  a  s}'ve  i-throwe. 
And  sifted,  and  y-plukked  many  a  throvv-e. 


58  THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 

*  Pardo,'  quod  oon,  '  somwhat  of  cure  metal 

Yet  is  ther  heer,  though  that  we  have  nought  al. 

And  though  this  thing  myshapped  hath  as  now,  39i 

Another  tyme  it  may  be  Avel  y-now. 

Us  moste  putte  oure  good  in  adventure. 

A  marchaunt,  parde,  may  not  ay  endure, 

Trusteth  mo  wel,  in  his  prosperite ; 

Som  tyme  his  good  is  drowned  in  the  see. 

And  som  tyme  cometh  it  sauf  unto  the  londe.' 

<  Pees  ! '  quod  my  lord, '  the  nexte  tyme  I  wol  fonde 

To  bringe  oure  craft  al  in  another  plyte. 

And  but  I  do,  sires,  let  mo  have  the  wyte ;         40o 

Ther  was  defaute  in  som  what,  wel  I  woot.' 

Another  sayde,  the  fuyr  was  over  hoot. 

But  be  it  hoot  or  cold,  I  dar  saye  this. 

That  we  concluden  evermor  amys  ; 

We  faile  of  that  which  that  we  wolden  have. 

And  in  oure  madnesse  evermore  we  rave. 

And  whan  we  ben  togideres  everiehon, 

Everiche  man  semeth  a  Salamon. 

But  al  thing  which  that  sehineth  as  the  gold, 

Is  nought  gold,  as  that  I  have  herd  told ;  no 

Ne  every  appel  that  is  fair  at  ye, 

Ne  is  not  good,  what  so  men  clappe  or  crye. 

Right  so,  lo,  fareth  it  amonges  us. 

He  that  semeth  the  wisest,  by  Jesus ! 

Is  most  fool,  Avhan  it  cometh  to  the  preef ; 

And  he  that  semeth  trewest  is  a  theef. 

That  schul  ye  knowe,  er  that  I  fro  yow  wende. 

By  that  I  of  my  tale  have  maad  an  ende. 

*  Ther  is  a  chanoun  of  religioun 
Amonges  us,  wold  mfecte  al  a  toun,  420 

Though  it  as  gret  were  as  was  Ninive, 


PROLOGE   OF   THE   CHAKOUNES   YEMAN.      59 

Rome,  Alisaundrc,  Troye,  or  other  thre. 

His  sleight  and  his  infinite  folsncsse 

Ther  couthe  no  man  writen,  as  I  gesso, 

Though  that  he  mighte  lyven  a  thousand  veer ; 

Of  al  this  world  of  falsheed  nys  his  peer, 

For  in  his  tcrmes  ho  wol  him  so  wyndc, 

And  spekc  his  wordes  in  so  sleygli  a  kynde, 

Whan  he  comune  schal  with  any  wight, 

That  he  wil  make  him  dote  anoon  right.  4.?o 

But  it  a  feend  be,  as  himselven  is. 

Ful  many  a  man  hath  he  bygiled  er  this, 

And  wol,  if  that  he  lyve  may  a  while  ; 

And  yet  men  ryde  and  goon  ful  many  a  myle 

Him  for  to  seeke,  and  have  his  aqueintaunce. 

Nought  knowyng  of  his  false  governaunee. 

And  if  yow  list  to  yeve  me  audience, 

I  wol  it  telle  here  in  youre  presence. 

But,  worschipful  chanouns  religious, 

Ne  demeth  not  that  I  sclaundre  youre  hous,      4.10 

Although  my  tale  of  a  chanoun  be. 

Of  every  ordre  som  schrewe  is,  pardee  ; 

And  God  forbede  that  al  a  companye 

Schulde  rewe  a  singuler  mannes  folye. 

To  sclaunder  yow  is  no  thing  myn  entont. 

But  to  correcten  that  is  mys  i-ment. 

This  tale  was  not  oonly  told  for  yow, 

But  eek  for  other  moo ;  ye  woot  wel  how 

That  among  Cristes  apostles  twelve 

Ther  was  no  traytour  but  Judas  himselve  ;  450 

Than  why  schulde  the  remenaunt  have  a  blame. 

That  gulteles  were  ?  by  yow  I  say  the  same. 

Save  oonly  this,  if  ye  wol  herkene  me, 

If  any  Judas  in  youre  covent  be, 


60  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

Remewe  him  by  tyme,  I  yow  rede, 
If  schame  or  los  may  causen  eny  dredc. 
And  bath  no  thing  displesed,  I  you  pray, 
But  in  this  caas  herkeneth  what  I  say.' 


THE  CHANOUNES  YEMANNES  TALE. 

'N  Londoun  was  a  prest,  an  annueler, 
That  therin  dwelled  hadde  many  a  yer, 
Which  was  so  plcsaunt  and  so  sorvisable 
Unto  the  wyf,  wher  as  he  was  at  tabic, 
That  sche  wolde  sufFre  him  no  thing  for  to  paye 
For  bord  no  clothing,  went  he  never  so  gaye  ; 
And  spending  silver  had  he  right  y-nough ; 
Therof  no  force ;   I  wol  precede  as  now. 
And  telle  forth  my  tale  of  the  chanoun, 
That  broughte  this  prest  to  confusion.  lo 

This  false  chanoun  cam  upon  a  day 
Unto  the  prestes  chambre  wher  he  lay, 
Biscehing  him  to  lene  him  a  eerteyn 
Of  gold,  and  he  wolde  quyt  hit  him  agoyn. 
'  Lene  me  a  mark,'  quod  he,  '  but  dayos  tluc, 
And  at  my  day  I  wil  hit  quyte  the. 
And  if  so  be,  that  thou  fynde  me  fals, 
Another  day  hong  me  up  by  the  hals.' 
This  prest  him  took  a  mark,  and  that  as-swithe, 
And  this  chanoun  him  thankid  ofte  sithe,  20 

And  took  his  leve,  and  wente  forth  his  wey  ; 
And  atte  thridde  day  brought  hym  his  money, 


THE   CHANOUXES.    YEMANNES   TALE.       61 

And  to  the  prest  he  took  his  gold  agayn, 

Wherof  this  prest  was  wonder  glad  and  fayn. 

'  Certes/  quod  he,  '  no  thing  annoyeth  me 

To  lene  a  man  a  noble,  or  tuo,  or  thrc, 

Or  what  thing  were  in  my  possessioun. 

Whan  he  so  trewe  is  of  condicioun, 

That  in  no  wise  he  breke  wol  his  day ; 

To  such  a  man  I  can  never  sayc  nay.'  30 

'  What? '  quod  this  chanoun, '  schold  I  be  untrewe? 

Nay,  that  were  thing  i-fallen  of  the  newe. 

Trouthe  is  a  thing  that  I  wol  ever  kepc, 

Unto  that  day  in  which  that  I  schal  crepe 

Into  my  grave,  and  elles  God  forbede  ! 

Bilieveth  that  as  siker  as  your  erede. 

God  thank  I,  and  in  good  tyme  be  it  sayd, 

That  ther  was  never  man  yet  evel  apayd 

For  gold  ne  silver  that  he  to  me  lente, 

Ne  never  falshed  in  myn  hert  I  mente.  40 

And,  sire,'  quod  he,  '  now  of  my  privete, 

Syn  ye  so  goodlich  have  be  unto  me. 

And  kythed  to  me  so  gret  gentilescc, 

Som-what,  to  quytc  with  youre  kyndcnesse, 

I  -svil  yow  schewe,  and  if  yow  lust  to  lei-e 

I  wil  yow  teche  pleynly  the  manere. 

How  I  kan  werken  in  philosophic. 

Takith  good  heed,  ye  schul  seen  wel  at  ye, 

That  I  wol  doon  a  maystry  er  I  go.' 

'  Ye  ? '  quod  the  prest,  '  ye,  sire,  and  wol  yc  so  ? 

Mary  !  therof  I  pray  you  hertily.'  si 

'  At  youre  comaundement,  sire,  trewely,' 

Quod  the  chanoun,  '  and  elles  God  forbede  I ' 

Lo,  how  this  theef  couthc  his  scrvise  beede. 

Ful  soth  it  is  that  such  profred  servisc 


62  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

Stynketh,  as  witnessen  these  olde  wise ; 

And  that  ful  soone  I  wol  it  verefye 

In  this  chanoun,  rootc  of  al  trcccheric, 

That  evermor  delit  hath  and  gladnesse 

(Such  feendly  thoughtes  in  his  hert  empresse)     co 

How  Cristes  poeple  he  may  to  meschief  bringe : 

God  kepe  us  from  his  fals  dissimilynge  ! 

What  wiste  this  prest  with  whom  that  he  delte  ? 

Ne  of  his  harm  comyng  he  no  thing  felte. 

0  seely  prcst,  o  sely  innocent, 

With  coveytise  anoon  thou  schalt  be  blent ; 

O  graceles,  ful  blynd  is  thy  conceyt, 

No  thing  art  thou  war  of  the  deceyt, 

Which  that  this  fox  i-schapen  hath  to  the ; 

His  wily  wrenches  y-wis  thou  maist  not  fle.        70 

Wherfor  to  go  to  the  conclusioun, 

That  referreth  to  thjr  confusion, 

Unhappy  man,  anoon  I  wil  me  hie 

To  tellen  thin  unwittc  and  thy  folye, 

And  eek  the  falsnesse  of  that  other  wrecche, 

Als  ferforth  as  my  connyng  wol  streeche. 

This  chanoun  was  my  loi'd,  ye  wolde  weene ; 
Sire  Ost,  in  faith,  and  by  the  heven  (jucenc, 
It  was  another  chanoun,  and  not  he, 
That  can  an  hundred  fold  more  subtilte'.  80 

He  hath  bitrayed  folkes  many  a  tjmc  ; 
Of  his  falsncs  it  duUith  me  to  ryme. 
Ever  whan  I  speke  of  his  falshede, 
For  schame  of  him  my  cheekes  wexen  reode ; 
Algates  thay  bygonne  for  to  glowe, 
For  rcednes  have  I  noon,  right  wel  I  knoA\'e, 
In  my  visago,  for  fumes  diverse 
Of  metals,  which  ye  ban  me  herd  reherse. 


THE  CHANOUNES  TEMANNES  TALE.   63 

Consumed  and  wasted  han  my  reednesse. 
Now  tak  heed  of  this  chanouns  cursednesse.         so 
'  Sire,'  quod  he  to  the  prest,  '  let  your  man  goon 
For  quyksilver,  that  we  it  hadde  anoou  : 
And  let  him  bringe  ounces  tuo  or  thre ; 
And  whan  he  cometh,  as  taste  schul  ye  see 
A  wonder  thing,  which  ye  saughe  never  er  this.' 
'  Sire,'  quod  the  prest,  '  it  schal  be  doon,  I  wis.' 
He  bad  his  servaunt  fecche  him  his  thinges, 
And  he  al  rcdy  was  at  his  biddynges, 
And  went  him  forth,  and  com  anoon  agayn 
With  his  quyksilver,  schortly  for  to  sayn,  luu 

And  took  these  ounces  thre  to  the  chanoun  ; 
And  he  it  layde  faire  and  wel  adoun, 
And  bad  the  servaunt  coles  for  to  bringe, 
That  he  anoon  mighte  go  to  his  werkynge. 
The  coles  right  anoon  weren  i-fett, 
And  this  chanoun  took  out  a  croselett, 
Out  of  his  bosom,  and  schewed  it  to  the  prest. 
'  This  instrument,'  quod  he, '  which  that  thou  scst, 
Tak  in  thin  bond,  and  put  thisclf  therinnc 
Of  this  quyksilver  an  unce,  and  her  bygynne      no 
In  the  name  of  Crist  to  wax  a  philosophre. 
Ther  ben  ful  fewe,  whiche  that  I  woldc  profrc 
To  schewe  hem  thus  mocha  of  my  science ; 
For  j-e  schid  seen  heer  by  experience. 
That  this  quiksilver  I  wol  mortifye. 
Right  in  youre  sight  anoon,  withoutcn  l\c. 
And  make  it  as  good  silver  and  as  fyn 
As  ther  is  any  in  youre  purs  or  myn, 
Or  elles  wher  ;  and  make  it  malleable ; 
And  ellcs  holdeth  me  fals  and  unable  120 

Amonges  folk  for  ever  to  appeere. 


64  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

I  have  a  pouder  lieer  that  coste  me  deerc, 

Schal  make  al  good,  for  it  is  cause  of  al 

My  connj-ng,  ^yhich  that  I  you  schewe  schal. 

Voydith  youre  man,  and  let  him  be  theroute ; 

And  schet  the  dore,  whils  we  ben  aboute 

Cure  privetee,  that  no  man  us  aspye, 

Whiles  -wc  werhen  in  this  philosophic.' 

Al,  as  he  bad,  fulfilled  was  in  dede. 

This  ilke  servaunt  anoon  right  out  yede,  130 

And  his  maister  schitte  the  dore  anoon, 

And  to  here  labour  speedily  thai  goon. 

This  prest,  at  this  cursed  chanouns  biddyng, 
Upon  the  fuyr  anoon  sette  this  thing, 
And  blew  the  fuyr,  and  busied  him  ful  faste ; 
And  this  chanoun  into  the  croslet  caste 
A  pouder,  noot  I  wherof  that  it  was 
I-maad,  outher  of  chalk,  outlier  of  glas. 
Or  som  what  elles,  that  was  nought  worth  a  flye 
To  blynde  with  this  prest ;  and  bad  him  hye      i^o 
These  coles  for  to  couchen  al  above 
The  croislet ;  for  '  in  tokenyng  I  the  love,' 
Quod  this  chanoun,  '  thin  oughne  handes  tuo 
Schal  wirche  al  thing  which  that  schal  be  do.' 
'  Graunt  mercy,'  quod  the  prest,  and  was  ful  glad, 
And  couchede  coles  as  the  chanoun  bad. 
And  whil  he  besy  was,  this  feendly  wrecche, 
This  false  chanoun  (the  foule  feend  him  fecche  !) 
Out  of  his  bosom  took  a  bechen  cole, 
In  which  ful  subtilly  was  maad  an  hole,  150 

And  therin  put  was  of  silver  lymayle 
An  unce,  and  stopped  was  withoute  fayle 
This  hole  Avith  wex,  to  kepe  the  lymail  in. 
And  understondith,  that  this  false  gyn 


THE   CIIANOUNES   YEMAL'NES   TALE.      G5 

Was  not  maad  ther,  but  it  was  maad  bifore  ; 

And  other  thinges  I  schal  telle  more 

Her  after- ward,  which  that  he  with  him  broughtc. 

Er  he  com  ther,  to  bigyle  him  he  thoughte, 

And  so  he  dede,  er  thay  wente  atwynne  ; 

Til  he  hadfZe  torned  him,  couthe  he  nought  blynne. 

It  dulleth  me,  whan  that  I  of  him  spekc  ;  ici 

On  his  falshede  fayn  wold  I  me  wreke, 

If  I  wist  how,  but  he  is  heer  and  there, 

He  is  so  variant,  he  byt  no  where. 

But  taketh  heed  now,  sires,  for  Goddes  love. 

He  took  this  cole  of  which  I  spak  above. 

And  in  his  bond  he  bar  it  prively. 

And  whiles  the  preste  eouchede  bysily 

The  coles,  as  I  tolde  yow  er  this. 

This  chanoun  sayde,  '  Freend,  ye  doon  amj-s ;     170 

This  is  not  couched  as  it  oughte  be. 

But  soone  I  schal  amenden  it,'  quod  he. 
'Now  let  me  melle  therwith  but  a  while. 
For  of  yow  have  I  pitee,  by  seint  Gilo ! 
Ye  been  right  hoot,  I  se  wel  how  ye  swete ; 
Have  heer  a  cloth  and  wype  away  the  wete.' 
And  whiles  that  this  prest  him  wyped  haas, 
This  chanoun  took  his  cole,  I  schrewe  his  faas ! 
And  layd  it  aboven  on  the  myd-ward 
Of  the  eroslet,  and  blew  wel  afterward,  iso 

Til  that  the  coles  gonne  faste  brenne, 
'  Now  ycve  us  drinkc,'  quod  the  chanoun  thenno, 
'  Als-swithe  al  schal  be  wel,  I  undertake. 
Sitte  we  doun,  and  let  us  mery  make.' 
And  whan  that  the  chanouncs  bechcne  cole 
Was  brent  al  the  lymail  out  of  the  hole 
Into  the  crossclct  anoon  fel  adoun ; 
vol.  III.  F 


66  THE  CANTERBURY   TALES. 

And  so  it  moste  ncedes  by  resoun  ; 

Sins  it  so  even  above  couched  was ; 

But  therof  wist  the  prest  no  thing,  alias  !  i90 

He  demed  alie  Win  colis  i-liche  goode, 

For  of  the  sleight  he  no  thing  understood. 

And  whan  this  alcamister  saugh  his  tyme, 
'  Rys  up,  sire  prest,'  quod  he, '  and  stonde  by  me ; 
And  for  I  wot  wel  ingot  have  ye  noon, 
Goth,  walkith  forth,  and  brynge  a  chalk-stoon ; 
For  I  wol  make  it  of  the  same  schap, 
That  is  an  ingold,  if  I  may  have  hap. 
And  bringe  with  you  a  bolle  or  a  panne 
Ful  of  water,  and  ye  schul  wel  se  thanne  200 

How  that  oure  besynes  sehal  happe  and  preve. 
And  yit,  for  ye  schul  have  no  mysbileeve 
Ne  wrong  conceyt  of  me  in  youre  absence, 
I  ne  wol  nought  ben  out  of  youre  presence, 
But  go  with  you,  and  come  with  you  agayn.' 
The  chambur  dore,  schortly  for  to  sayn, 
Thay  opened  and  sehette,  and wente  forth  hereweye. 
And  forth  with  hem  they  caryede  the  keye. 
And  comcn  agayn  withouten  eny  delay. 
What  schuld  I  tary  al  the  longe  day  ?       ^  210 

He  took  the  chalk,  and  schop  it  in  the  wise 
Of  an  ingot,  as  I  schal  yow  devyse ; 
I  say,  he  took  out  of  his  oughne  sleeve 
A  teyne  of  silver  (evel  mot  he  cheeve  !) 
Which  that  was  but  an  unce  of  wight. 
And  taketh  heed  now  of  his  cursed  slight ; 
He  schop  his  ingot  in  lengthe  and  in  brede 
Of  this  teyne,  withouten  eny  drede  ; 
So  slcighly,  that  the  prest  it  nought  aspyde ; 
And  in  his  sleeve  agayn  he  gan  it  hyde ;  220 


THE   ClIANOUNES    YEMANNES    TALE.       67 

And  fro  the  fuj-r  he  took  up  his  mateerc, 
And  into  the  ingot  put  it  with  mery  cheere ; 
And  into  tlie  watir-vessel  he  it  caste, 
Whan  that  him  list,  and  bad  this  prest  as  faste, 
'  Loke  -what  there  is ;  put  in  thin  hond  and  grope  ; 
Thou  fyndc  ther  silver  schalt,  as  I  hope.' 
What  devel  of  helle  sehold  it  elles  be  ? 
Scha\yng  of  silver,  silver  is,  parde  ! 

He  putte  in  his  hond  and  tok  up  a  teyne 
Of  silver  fyn,  and  glad  in  every  veyne  230 

Was  this  prest,  whan  he  saugh  it  was  so. 
'  Goddes  blessyng,  and  his  modres  also. 
And  alle  halwes,  have  ye,  sire  ehanoun,' 
Seyde  the  prest,  '  and  I  her  malisoun  ! 
But,  and  ye  vouchesauf  to  teche  me 
This  nobil  craft  and  this  subtilite, 
I  wil  be  youre  in  al  that  ever  I  may.' 
Quod  this  ehanoun,  '  Yet  wol  I  make  assay 
The  seeound  tyme,  that  ye  mowe  taken  hcede. 
And  ben  expert  of  this,  and  in  your  neede  210 

Another  day  to  assay  in  myn  absence 
This  dicipline,  and  this  crafty  science  ; 
Let  take  another  unee,'  quod  he  tho, 
'  Of  quyksilver,  withouten  wordes  mo. 
And  do  therwith  as  ye  have  doon  er  this 
With  that  otlicr,  whieli  that  now  silver  is.' 
The  prest  him  busycth  in  al  tliat  he  can 
To  doon  as  this  ehanoun,  this  cursed  man, 
Comaunded  him,  and  faste  blew  the  fuyr, 
For  to  come  to  theffect  of  his  desyr.  :5C 

And  this  ehanoun  right  in  the  mene-while 
Al  redy  was  this  prest  eft  to  bygile. 
And  for  a  countenaunce  in  his  hond  bar 


68  THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 

An  holow  stikke  (talc  keep  and  be  war), 

In  thende  of  which  an  unce  and  no  more 

Of  silver  lymail  put  was,  as  bifore 

Was  in  his  cole,  and  stopped  with  wex  Avel 

For  to  kepc  in  his  limail  every  del. 

And  whil  the  prest  was  in  his  besynesse, 

This  chanoun  with  his  stikke  gan  him  drcssc     :60 

To  him  anoon,  and  his  ponder  cast  in, 

As  he  dede  er,  (the  devel  out  of  his  skyn 

Him  torne,  I  pray  to  God,  for  his  falshede ! 

For  he  was  ever  fals  in  ivorde  and  deede). 

And  with  this  stikke  ahove  the  eroslet, 

That  was  ordeyncd  with  that  false  get. 

He  styrede  the  coles,  til  relente  gan 

The  wex  agayn  the  fuyr,  as  every  man. 

But  it  a  fool  be,  woot  wel  it  moot  node, 

And  al  that  in  the  hole  was  out  yede,  270 

And  into  the  eroslet  hastily  it  fel. 

Now,  good  sires,  what  wol  ye  bet  then  wel  ? 

Whan  that  this  prest  thus  was  begiled  agayn, 

Supposyng  not  but  trouthe,  soth  to  sayn. 

He  was  so  glad,  that  I  can  nought  expresse 

In  no  manor  his  myrthc  and  his  gladnesse, 

And  to  the  chanoun  he  profred  eft  soone 

Body  and  good.     '  Ye,'  quod  the  chanoun,  '  soone, 

Though  pore  I  be,  crafty  thou  schalt  nie  fynde ; 

I  warne  the,  yet  is  ther  more  byhynde.  2S0 

Is  ther  any  coper  herinne?'  quod  he. 

'  Ye,  sir,'  quod  this  prest,  '  I  trowe  ther  be. 

Elles  go  bye  som,  and  that  as-swithe.' 

'  Now  good  sire,  go  forth  thy  way  and  hy  the.' 

He  Avent  his  way,  and  with  this  coper  cam ; 

And  this  chanoun  it  in  his  hondes  nam, 


THE  CHAKOUJs'ES  I'EMAKNES  TALE.       60 

And  of  that  coper  weyed  out  but  an  ounce. 

Al  to  simple  is  my  tongue  to  pronouncd, 

As  minister  of  ?h^  witt,  the  doublencsso 

Of  this  chanoun,  root  of  al  cursedncssc.  200 

He  semede  frendly  to  hem  that  knew  him  nought, 

But  he  was  fendly  bothc  in  work  and  thought. 

It  werieth  me  to  telle  of  his  falsnesse ; 

And  nathelcs  yit  wol  I  it  expresse, 

To  that  entent  men  maje  be  war  therby, 

And  for  noon  other  cause  trewely. 

He  put  this  unce  of  coper  in  the  croslet, 
And  on  the  fuyr  als-swithe  he  hath  it  set, 
And  cast  in  pouder,  and  made  the  prest  to  blowe, 
And  in  his  worehing  for  to  stoupe  lowe,  300 

As  he  dede  er,  and  al  nas  but  a  jape ; 
Right  as  him  listc  the  prcst  he  made  his  ape. 
And  afterward  in  the  ingot  he  it  caste, 
And  in  the  panne  puttc  it  atte  laste 
Of  water,  and  in  he  put  his  owne  bond. 
And  in  his  sleeve,  as  ye  byforen-hond 
Horde  me  telle,  he  had  a  silver  tcyne ; 
He  sleyghly  took  it  out,  this  cursed  heync, 
(Unwitynge  this  prcst  of  his  false  craft), 
And  in  the  pannes  botme  he  hath  it  laft ;  sio 

And  in  the  Avater  rumbleth  to  and  fro. 
And  wonder  privcly  took  it  up  also 
The  coper  tcyne,  (nought  knowyng  this  prest) 
And  hidde  it,  and  bent  him  by  the  brest, 
And  to  him  spak,  and  thus  sayde  in  his  game  ; 
'  Stoupcth  adoun !  by  God,  ye  ben  to  blame ; 
Hclpcth  me  now,  as  I  dedc  yow  whil  er ; 
Put  in  your  bond,  and  lokc  what  is  ther.' 
This  prcst  took  up  this  silver  teyne  anoon. 


70  THE  CANTERBURY   TALES. 

And  thanne  sayde  the  chanoun,  let  us  goon        r>20 
With  these  thre  teynes -vvhiche  that  we  han  wrought, 
To  som  goldsmyth,  and  wite  if  it  be  ought. 
For  by  my  faith  I  nolde,  for  myn  hood, 
But  if  they  were  silver  fyn  and  good, 
And  that  as-swithe  proved  schal  it  be.' 
Unto  the  goldsmith  with  these  teynes  thre 
Thay  went,  and  putte  these  teynes  in  assay 
To  fuyr  and  hammer ;  mighte  no  man  sayc  nay 
But  that  thay  were  as  hem  oughte  be. 

This  sotted  prest,  who  was  gladder  than  he  ?  sco 
Was  never  brid  gladder  agayn  the  day ; 
Ne  nightyngale  in  the  sesoun  of  May 
Was  never  noon,  that  liste  better  to  syngc ; 
Ne  lady  lustier  in  carolynge  ; 
Or  for  to  spoke  of  love  and  wommanhede, 
Ne  knyght  in  armes  doon  an  hardy  deede 
To  stonde  in  grace  of  his  lady  dcere. 
Than  hadde  this  prest  this  craft  for  to  lere, 
And  to  the  chanoun  thus  he  spak  and  seyde ; 
'  For  the  love  of  God,  that  for  us  alle  deydc,      ^lo 
And  as  I  may  deserve  it  unto  yow, 
What  schal  this  receyt  coste  ?  telleth  now.' 
'  By  oure  lady,'  quod  the  chanoun,  '  it  is  deere, 
I  Avarne  yow  Avel,  for,  save  I  and  a  freere, 
In  Engelond  ther  can  no  man  it  make.' 
'  No  fors,'  quoth  he ;  '  now,  sire,  for  Goddes  sake, 
What  schal  I  paye  ?  telleth  me,  I  pray.' 
'  I-wis,'  quod  he,  '  it  is  ful  dere  I  say. 
Sire,  at  a  word,  if  that  ye  lust  it  have, 
■  Ye  schul  paye  fourty  pound,  so  God  me  save ;    nso 
And  nere  the  frendschipe  that  ye  deJe  er  this 
To  me,  ye  schulde  paye  more,  i-\vys.' 


THE  CHANOUNES  YEMANNES  TALE.       71 

This  prest  the  somrae  of  fourty  pound  anoon 
Of  nobles  fette,  and  took  hem  everychoon 
To  this  chanoun,  for  this  ilkc  receyt. 
Al  his  werkyng  nas  but  fraude  and  deceyt, 

*  Sire  prest/  he  seyde,  *  I  kepe  have  no  loos 
Of  my  craft,  for  I  wold  it  kept  were  cloos ; 
xind  as  ye  lovcth  me,  kepeth  it  seere. 
For  and  men  knewc  al  my  sotilte,  360 

By  God,  men  wolden  have  so  gret  envye 
To  me,  bycause  of  my  philosophic, 
I  schulde  be  deed,  ther  were  noon  other  weye.' 
'  God  it  forbede,'  quoth  the  prest,  '  what  ye  seye. 
Yet  had  I  lever  spenden  al  the  good 
Which  that  I  have,  (and  elles  wax  I  wood) 
Than  that  ye  schulde  falle  in  such  meschief.' 
'  For  your  good  wil,  sir,  have  ye  right  good  precf,' 
Quoth  the  chanoun,  '  and  far  wel  graiint  mercy.'' 
He  went  his  way,  and  never  the  prest  him  sey  370 
After  this  day ;  and  whan  that  this  prest  scholde 
Maken  assay,  at  such  tyme  as  he  wolde, 
Of  this  receyt,  far  wel,  it  wolde  not  be. 
Lo,  thus  byjaped  and  bygilt  was  he ; 
Thus  maketh  he  his  introduccioun 
To  bringe  folk  to  here  destruccioun. 

Considereth,  sires,  how  that  in  ech  astaat 
Bitwixe  men  and  gold  ther  is  debaat, 
So  ferforth  that  unnethe  ther  is  noon. 
This  multiplying  blent  so  many  oon,  sso 

That  in  good  faith  I  trowc  that  it  be 
The  cause  grettest  of  swich  skarsete'. 
Philosophres  spekcn  so  mistj'ly 
In  this  craft,  that  men  conne  not  come  therby, 
For  any  witt  that  men  han  now  on  dayes. 


72  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

They  may  wel  chiteren,  as  doon  these  jayes, 

And  in  here  termes  sette  lust  and  peyne, 

But  to  her  purpos  schul  thay  never  attej-ne. 

A  man  may  lightly  lerne,  if  he  have  ought, 

To  multiplie  and  bringe  his  good  to  nought,       390 

Lo,  such  a  lucre  is  in  this  lusty  game ; 

A  raannes  mirthe  it  wol  torne  into  grarae. 

And  emptc  also  grete  and  hevy  purses, 

And  make  folk  to  purchace  curses 

Of  hem,  that  han  her  good  therto  i-lent. 

0,  fy  !  for  schame,  thay  that  have  be  brent, 

Alias !  can  thay  not  flc  the  fuyres  hete  ? 

Ye  that  it  usen,  I  rede  ye  it  lete, 

Lest  ye  lesen  al ;  for  bet  than  never  is  late  ; 

Never  to  thrive,  were  to  long  a  date.  400 

Though  ye  proUc  ay,  ye  schul  it  never  fynde ; 

Ye  ben  as  boldc  as  is  Bayard  the  blynde, 

That  blundreth  forth,  and  peril  casteth  noon ; 

He  is  as  bold  to  rennc  agayn  a  stoon. 

As  for  to  go  bysides  in  the  wey ; 

So  fare  ye  that  multiplie,  I  sey. 

If  that  youre  yghen  can  nought  seen  aright, 

Loke  that  youre  mynde  lakke  nought  his  sight. 

For  though  ye  loke  never  so  brodo  and  stare, 

Ye  schul  nought  wynne  a  mite  on  that  chafiiire. 

But  wasten  al  that  ye  may  raj)e  and  rennc.        .in 

Withdrawe  the  fuyr,  lest  it  to  faste  brenne ; 

Medleth  no  more  with  that  art,  I  mene  ; 

For  yif  ye  doon,  youre  thrift  is  goon  ful  clcnc. 

And  right  as-swithe  I  wol  yow  telle  heere 

What  philosophres  sein  in  this  mateere. 

Lo,  thus  saith  Arnold  of  the  Newe-toun, 
As  his  Kosaric  makcth  mencioun, 


THE   CIIANOUNES   YEMANXES   TALE.       73 

He  saith  right  thus,  withouten  eny  lye : 
Ther  may  no  man  JMercury  mortifyc,  -120 

But  hit  be  with  his  brother  knowleching, 
Lo,  how  that  he,  which  that  first  sayde  this  thing. 
Of  philosophres  fader  Avas,  Hermes  ; 
He  saith,  how  that  the  dragoun  douteles 
He  dyeth  nought,  but-if  that  he  be  slayn 
With  his  brother.     And  that  is  for  to  sayn, 
By  the  dragoun,  Mercury,  and  noon  other 
He  understood,  and  brimstoon  be  his  brother, 
That  out  of  Sol  and  Luna  were  i-drawe. 
'  And  therfore,'  saydc  he,  '  take  heed  to  my  sawe  ; 
Let  no  man  besy  him  this  art  to  seche,  431 

But-?/  that  he  thentencioun  and  speche 
Of  philosophres  undcrstonde  can  ; 
And  if  he  do,  he  is  a  lowed  man. 
For  this  scions,  and  this  connyng/  quod  he, 
'  Is  of  the  Secre  of  secretz,  parde.' 
Also  ther  Avas  a  disciple  of  Plato, 
That  on  a  tyme  sayde  his  maister  to, 
As  his  book  Senior  wil  here  witncsse, 
And  this  was  his  demaundc  in  sothfastnesse  :     -iio 
'  Tel  me  the  name  of  t\\iUcQ  prive  stoon.' 
And  Plato  answered  unto  him  anoon, 

*  Take  the  stoon  that  titanos  men  name.' 

'  Which  is  that  ?'  quod  he.  '  Magnasia  is  the  same,' 

Sayde  Plato.     '  Ye,  sire,  and  is  it  thus  ? 

That  is  ignotum  2)er  ignotlus. 

What  is  magnasia,  good  sir,  I  you  pray?' 

'  It  is  a  water  that  is  maad,  I  say, 

Of  elementes  fourc,'  quod  Plato. 

'  Telle  me  the  roote,  good  sire,'  quod  he  tho,     450 

*  Of  that  water,  if  it  be  your  wille.' 


74  THE   CAKTERBURY    TALES. 

'  Nay,  nay,'  quod  Plato,  '  certeyn  that  I  nyllc. 

The  philosophrcs  sworn  were  everichoon, 

That  thay  no  scholde  discoverc  it  unto  man  noon, 

Nc  in  no  book  it  write  in  no  manerc ; 

For  unto  Crist  it  is  so  leef  and  deere, 

That  he  \vil  not  that  it  discovered  be, 

But  wher  it  liketh  to  his  deite 

Man  to  cnspiro,  and  cek  for  to  defende 

Whom  that  him  liketh  ;  lo,  this  is  the  ende.'      46o 

Than  conclude  I  thus,  sjn  God  of  hevene 
Ne  wol  not  that  the  philosophres  nevene, 
IIow  that  a  man  schal  come  unto  this  stoon, 
I  rede  as  for  the  bestc,  let  it  goon. 
For  who-so  maketh  God  his  adversarie, 
As  for  to  werke  eny  thing  in  contrarie 
Unto  his  wil,  certes  never  schal  he  thrive, 
Though  that  he  multiplie  terme  of  al  his  lyve. 
And  ther  a  poynt ;  for  ended  is  my  tale. 
God  send  every  trewe  man  boote  of  his  bale  !     470 


THE   TALE   OF   THE    DOCTOR    OF    TIIISIK.    iD 


THE  DOCTOURES  PROLOGE. 


[HAN  that  this  yoman  his  tale  ended  haddc 
Of  this  false  chanon  ivhiche  that  was  so 

badde, 
Oure  oste  gan  say,  '  truly  and  certayne 
Thys  iweest  was  hegyled,  sothely  for  to  sayne, 
(He  ivenynge  for  to  he  a  phylosofre) 
Tylle  he  right  no  golde  lefte  in  hys  coffre ; 
And  sothely  this  j^recst  hade  a  lither  jape, 
Thys  cursed  clianoun  put  in  hys  hood  an  ape, 
'  But  al  this  passe  ivil  I  overe  as  nowe. 
Sir  Doctour  of  Phisyhe  I  piray  you, 
Telle  us  a  tale  of  some  honeste  matere.' 
'  It  schal  be  done,  yf  that  ye  wille  it  here, 
Sayde  this  doctour,  and  hys  tale  began  anone. 
'Nowe,  gode  men,^  quod  he,  herkeneth  cverech  oon.' 


10 


THE  TALE  OF  THE  DOCTOR  OF  PHISIK. 


^HER  was,  as  tellcth  Thitus  Lyvius, 
A  knight,  that  cleped  was  Virginius, 
Fulfild  of  honours  and  of  worthines, 
And  strong  of  frendes,and  of  gret  riches. 
This  knight  a  doughter  he  hadde  by  his  wyf, 
And  never  ne  haddc  he  mo  in  al  his  lyf. 


76  THE  CAKTERBURT   TALES. 

Fair  was  this  mayde  in  excellent  beaute 

Above  every  wight  that  men  maye  se; 

For  Nature  hath  with  sovereyn  diligence 

I-formed  hir  in  so  gret  excellence,  lo 

As  though  schc  woldo  say,  '  Lo,  I,  Nature, 

Thus  can  I  forme  and  peynte  a  creature. 

Whan  that  me  lust ;  who  can  me  counterfete  ? 

Pigmalion?  nought,  though  he  alwey  forge  and  bete. 

Or  grave,  or  paynte ;  for  I  dar  wel  sayn, 

Apelles  Zeuxis,  schuldc  wirche  in  vayn. 

Other  to  grave,  or  paynte,  or  forge  or  bete. 

If  thay  presumede  me  to  counterfete. 

For  He  that  is  the  Former  principal 

Hath  maad  me  his  viker  general,  20 

To  forme  and  peynte  erthely  creature 

Right  as  me  lust,  al  thing  is  in  my  cure 

Under  the  moone  that  may  wane  and  waxe. 

And  for  my  werkc  no  thing  wol  I  axe; 

My  lord  and  I  ben  fully  at  accord. 

I  made  hir  to  the  worschip  of  my  Lord; 

So  do  I  alle  myn  other  creatures, 

What  colour  that  thay  been,  or  what  figures.' 

Thus  semeth  me  that  Nature  wolde  saye. 

This  mayde  was  of  age  twelf  yer  and  twaye,    so 
In  which  that  nature  hath  suche  delite. 
For  right  as  sche  can  peynte  a  lili  white 
And  rody  a  rose,  right  with  such  peynture 
Sche  peynted  hath  this  noble  creature 
Er  sche  was  born,  upon  her  limes  fre. 
Where  als  b!/  right  such  colourcs  schuldc  be ; 
And  Phebus  deyed  hadde  hire  tresses  grcte, 
I-lyk  to  the  stremes  of  his  horned  hete. 
And  if  that  excellent  was  hir  beaute', 


THE   T2VLE   OF   THE   DOCTOR   OF   nilSIK.    77 

A  thousand  fold  more  vertuous  was  schc  40 

In  hire  ne  laliketh  no  condicioun, 

That  is  to  preyse,  as  by  discrecioun. 

As  wel  in  body  as  goost  chaste  was  sche ; 

For  which  sche  floured  in  virginite, 

With  alle  humilite  and  abstinence, 

With  alle  attemperaunce  and  pacience, 

With  mesure  eek  of  beryng  and  array. 

Discret  sche  was  in  answeryng  alway, 

Though  sche  were  wis  as  Pallas,  dar  I  sayn. 

Hir  facound  eclt  ful  wommanly  and  playn ;  so 

Noon  countrefcted  termes  hadde  sche 

To  seme  wys ;  but  after  hir  degre 

Sche  spak,  and  alle  hire  wordes  more  and  lesso 

Sounyng  in  vertu  and  in  gentilesse. 

Schamelast  sche  was  in  maydencs  schamfastnesso, 

Constant  in  hert,  and  ever  in  besynesse, 

To  dryve  hire  out  of  yddle  slogardye. 

Bachus  had  of  hir  mouth  no  maistrye ; 

For  ivyn  and  youthe  doon  Venus  encrece, 

As  men  in  fuyr  wil  caste  oyle  or  grece.  60- 

And  of  hir  oughne  yertu  unconstreigned, 

Sche  hath  ful  ofte  tyme  hire  seek  y-fcyned, 

For  that  sche  wolde  fleen  the  compaiiye, 

Wher  likly  was  to  treten  of  folye, 

As  is  at  festes,  reveles,  and  at  daunces, 

That  ben  occasiouns  of  daliaunces. 

Such  thingcs  makcn  children  for  to  be 

To  soone  rype  and  bold,  as  men  may  so, 

Which  is  ful  perilous,  and  hath  ben  yore ; 

For  al  to  soone  may  sche  lernc  lore  70 

Of  boldencssc,  whan  schc  is  a  wyf. 

And  ye  maystresses  in  yourc  olde  lyf 


78  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

That  lordes  doughtres  han  in  governaunce, 

Ne  taketh  of  my  word  no  displesaunce ; 

Thinkei/i  that  ye  ben  set  in  governynges 

Of  lordes  doughtres,  oonly  for  tuo  thinges ; 

Outher  for  ye  han  kept  your  honeste. 

Other  elles  for  ye  han  falle  in  frelete, 

And  knowe  wel  y-nough  the  olde  daunce, 

And  conno  forsake  fully  suche  meschaunce  so 

For  evermo ;  therfore,  for  Cristes  sake, 

Kepeth  wel  tho  that  ye  undertake.' 

A  theof  of  venesoun,  that  hath  for-laft 

His  licorousnesse,  and  al  his  theves  craft. 

Can  kepe  a  forest  best  of  every  man. 

Now  kepe  hem  wel,  for  and  ye  wil  ye  can ; 

Lokei^  Avel,  to  no  vice  that  ye  assente, 

Lest  ye  be  dampned  for  your  wikked  entente, 

For  who-so  doth,  a  traytour  is  certayn ; 

And  taketh  keep  of  that  that  I  schal  sayn  ;  so 

Of  al  tresoun  sovereyn  pestilence 

Is,  whan  a  wight  bytrayeth  innocence. 

Ye  fadres,  and  yc  modres  eek  also, 

Though  ye  han  children,  be  it  oon  or  mo, 

Youre  is  the  charge  of  al  her  sufferaunce, 

Whiles  thay  be  under  your  governaunce. 

Beth  war,  that  by  cnsample  of  youre  lyvynge, 

Outher  by  neegligcnce  in  ehastisynge, 

That  thay  ne  perisehe ;  for  I  dar  wel  seye, 

If  that  thay  doon,  ye  schul  ful  sore  abeye.  loo 

Under  a  schepherd  softe  and  necligent, 

The  wolf  hath  many  a  schep  and  lamb  to-rent. 

Sufficeth  oon  ensample  now  as  here, 

For  I  moot  turne  ayein  to  my  matiere. 

This  mayde,  of  Avhich  I  telle  my  tale  expresse, 


TPIE   TALE   OF   THE   DOCTOE,   OF    PIIISIK.     79 

So  kept  hir  self,  hir  nedede  no  maystresse ; 

For  in  hir  ly\7ng  maydens  mighte  rede, 

As  in  a  book,  every  good  word  and  dede, 

That  longeth  unto  a  mayden  vertuous  ; 

Sche  was  so  prudent  and  so  bounteous.  no 

For  which  the  fame  outsprong  on  every  syde 

Bothe  of  hir  beaute  and  Mr  bounte  wyde  ; 

That  thurgh  the  lond  thay  praysed  hir  ilkoone, 

That  lovede  vertu,  save  envye  alloone 

That  sory  is  of  other  mennes  wele. 

And  glad  is  of  his  sorwe  and  unhele. 

The  doctor  made  this  descripcioun. 

This  mayde  wente  upon  a  day  into  the  toun 

Toward  the  temple,  with  hir  moder  deere, 

As  is  of  yonge  maydenes  the  manere.  12a 

Now  was  ther  than  a  justice  in  the  toun, 
That  governour  was  of  that  regioun. 
And  so  bifel,  this  juge  his  eyghen  caste 
Upon  this  mayde,  avysing  hir  ful  faste. 
As  sche  cam  forby  ther  the  juge  stood. 
Anoon  his  herte  chaunged  and  his  mood, 
So  was  he  caught  with  beaute  of  this  mayde. 
And  to  him-self  ful  prively  he  sayde, 
'  This  mayde  schal  bo  myn  for  any  man.' 
Anoon  the  feend  into  his  herte  ran,  iso 

And  taughte  him  sodeinly,  by  what  shghte 
This  mayde  to  his  purpos  wynne  he  mighte. 
For  ccrtcs,  by  no  fors,  ne  by  no  mede. 
Him  thought  he  was  not  able  for  to  speede ; 
For  sche  was  strong  of  frendes,  and  eek  sche 
Confirmed  was  in  such  soverayne  bounto 
That  wel  he  wist  he  might  hir  never  wynne, 
As  for  to  make  hir  with  hir  body  synne. 


80  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

For  which  with  gret  dehberaeioun 

He  sent  after  a  clerk  was  in  the  toim,  uo 

The  which  he  knew  for  subtil  and  for  bold. 

This  juge  unto  the  clerk  his  tale  hath  told 

In  secre  wyse,  and  made  him  to  assure, 

He  schulde  telle  it  to  no  creature ; 

And  if  he  dede  he  schulde  lese  his  heed. 

Whan  that  assented  was  this  cursed  reed, 

Glad  was  the  juge,  and  made  him  goode  cheere. 

And  yaf  him  yiftes  precious  and  deere. 

Whan  schapen  was  al  this  conspiracye 
Fro  poynt  to  poynt,  how  that  his  lecherie  iso 

Parformed  scholde  be  ful  subtilly. 
As  ye  schul  here  after-ward  openly, 
Hom  goth  this  clerk,  that  highte  Claudius. 
This  false  juge,  that  highte  Apius, — 
(So  was  his  name,  for  it  is  no  fable. 
But  knowen  for  a  storial  thing  notable  ; 
The  sentence  of  hit  soth  is  out  of  doutc), — 
This  false  jugge  goth  now  fast  aboute 
To  hasten  his  delit  al  that  he  may. 
And  so  bifel,  soone  after  on  a  day  160 

This  false  juge,  as  tcUeth  us  the  story. 
As  he  was  wont,  sat  in  his  consistory. 
And  yaf  his  domes  upon  sondry  caas ; 
This  false  clerk  com  forth  a  ful  good  paas. 
And  saide,  '  Lord,  if  that  it  be  your  wille, 
As  doth  me  right  upon  this  pitous  bille, 
In  which  I  ployne  upon  Virginius. 
And  if  he  wile  seyn  it  is  nought  thus, 
I  wil  hit  prove  and  fyndc  good  witnesse, 
That  soth  is  that  my  bille  wol  cxprcsse.'  170 

The  juge  answerd,  '  Of  this  in  his  absence 


THE  TALE  OF  THE  DOCTOR  OF  PHISIK.  81 

I  may  not  yive  diffinityf  sentence. 

Let  do  him  calle,  and  I  wol  gladly  hicre ; 

Thou  schalt  have  alio  right,  and  no  wrong  hecre. 

Virginius  com  to  Avite  the  jugges  wille, 

And  right  anoon  was  red  this  cursed  bille  ; 

The  sentence  of  it  was  as  ye  schul  heere. 

'  To  yow,  my  lord  sire  Apius  so  decre, 
Scheweth  yourc  pore  servaunt  Claudius, 
How  that  a  knight  called  Virginius,  iso 

Ayeins  the  lawe,  ayens  alle  equyte, 
Holdeth,  expresse  ayeinst  the  wille  of  me, 
My  servaunt,  which  that  my  thral  is  by  right, 
Which  fro  myn  hous  was  stolen  on  a  night 
Whiles  sche  was  fid  yong,  that  avoI  I  preve 
By  Avitnesse,  lord,  so  that  ye  yoAv  not  greve ; 
Sche  is  nought  his  doughter,  Avhat-so  he  say, 
Whcrfore  to  yoAV,  my  lord  the  jugge,  I  pray, 
Yelde  me  my  thralle,  if  that  it  be  your  Aville.' 
Lo,  this  was  al  the  sentence  of  the  billc.  loo 

Virgineus  gan  upon  the  clerk  byholde ; 
But  hastily,  er  he  his  tale  tolde, 
He  Avolde  have  proved  it,  as  schold  a  knight, 
And  eek  by  Avitnessyng  of  many  a  Avight, 
That  al  Avas  fals  that  saydc  his  adversaric  ; 
This  cursed  juge  Avolde  no  lenger  tarye, 
Ne  heere  a  Avord  more  of  Virgineus, 
But  yaf  his  jugemcnt,  and  saide  thus  ; 
'  I  demo  anoon  this  clerk  his  servaunt  have. 
Thou  schalt  no  longer  in  thin  hous  hir  save.       200 
Go  bringe  hir  forth,  and  put  hir  in  oure  Avavde. 
This  clerk  schal  have  his  thral ;  thus  I  aAvarde.' 

And  Avhan  this  Avorthy  knight  Virgineus, 
Thurgh  thassent  of  this  juge  Apius, 

yOL.    III.  G 


82  THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 

Moste  by  force  his  deere  doughter  yiven 

Unto  the  jugc,  in  lecchery  to  lyvcn, 

He  gotli  him  horn,  and  sette  him  in  his  halle, 

And  leet  anoon  his  deere  doughter  calle ; 

And  with  a  face  deed  as  aisshen  colde, 

U))on  hir  humble  face  ho  gan  byholde,  210 

With  fadrcs  pitc  stiking  thorugh  his  herte, 

Al  wolde  he  from  his  purpos  not  converte. 

*  Doughter/  quod  he,  '  Virginea  be  thy  name, 

Ther  ben  tuo  weyes,  cyther  deth  or  schame, 

That  thou  moste  suifre,  alas  that  I  was  bore  ! 

For  never  thou  deservedest  wherfore 

To  deyen  with  a  swerd  or  with  a  luiyf. 

0  deere  doughter,  ender  of  my  lif, 

Which  I  have  fostred  up  with  such  plesaunce, 

That  thou  no  uxtg  oute  of  my  remembraunce  ; 

0  doughter,  which  that  art  my  lasts  wo,  221 

And  in  this  lif  my  laste  joye  also, 

0  gcmrae  of  chastite,  in  pacience 

Tak  thou  thy  deth,  for  this  is  my  sentence ; 

For  love  and  not  for  hate  thou  moste  be  deed. 

My  pitous  bond  mot  smyten  of  thin  heed. 

Alias  that  ever  Apius  the  say ! 

Thus  hath  he  falsly  jugged  the  to  day.' 

And  told  hir  al  the  caas,  as  ye  bifore 

Han  herd,  it  nedeth  nought  to  telle  it  more.       230 

'  Mercy,  deere  fader,'  quod  this  mayde. 
And  with  that  word  sche  bothe  hir  armes  layde 
Aboute  his  nekke,  as  sche  was  wont  to  doo, 
(The  teeres  brast  out  of  hir  eyghen  tuo), 
And  sayde  :   *  Goode  fader,  schal  I  dye  ? 
Is  ther  no  grace  ?  is  ther  no  remedye  ? ' 
'  No,  ccrteyu,  deere  doughter  myn,'  quod  he. 


THE  TALE   OF  THE  DOCTOR  OF  PHISIK.    83 

'  Than  yeve  me  levc,  fader  myn/  quod  sche, 

'  My  deth  for  to  conipleyne  a  litel  space ; 

For  pardy  Jcffifa  yaf  his  doughter  grace  210 

For  to  conipleyne,  er  he  hir  slough,  alias ! 

And  God  it  woot,  no  thing  was  hir  trespas, 

But  that  schc  ran  hir  fader  first  to  se, 

To  welcome  him  with  gret  solempnite.' 

And  with  that  word  aswoun  sche  fel  anoon. 

And  after,  whan  hir  swownyng  was  agoon, 

Sche  riseth  up,  and  to  hir  fader  sayde ; 

'  Blessed  be  God,  that  I  schal  deye  a  mayde. 

Yeve  me  my  deth,  er  that  I  have  a  schame. 

Do  with  your  child  your  wille,  a  goddes  name  ! ' 

And  with  that  word  sche  prayed  him  ful  ofte,    I'oi 

That  with  his  swerd  he  schulde  smytc  hir  softe ; 

And  with  that  word  on  swoune  doun  sche  fel. 

Hir  fader,  with  ful  sorwf  ul  hert  and  fel, 

Hir  heed  of  smoot,  and  by  the  top  it  hente, 

And  to  the  juge  bigan  it  to  presente, 

As  he  sat  in  his  doom  in  consistory. 

And  whan  the  juge  it  say,  as  saith  the  story, 

He  bad  take  him,  and  honge  him  also-fastc. 

But  right  anoon  alio  the  poeple  in  thrastc  :.'0o 

To  save  the  knight,  for  routhe  and  for  pitc, 

For  knowcn  was  the  fals  iniquite. 

The  poeple  anoon  hadc/e  suspect  in  this  thing. 

By  maner  of  this  clerkcs  chalengyng, 

That  it  was  by  thassent  of  Apius  ; 

Jheij  wiste  wel  that  he  was  leccherous. 

For  which  unto  tliis  Apius  thay  goon, 

And  casten  him  in  prisoun  right  anoon, 

Whcr  as  he  slough  himself;  and  Claudius, 

That  servaunt  was  unto  this  Apius,  270 


84  THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 

Was  demed  for  to  honge  upon  a  tree ; 

But  Virgineiis  of  his  gret  pite 

Prayde  for  him,  that  he  was  exiled, 

And  ellcs  ccrtcs  he  hadcZc  ben  bigiled. 

The  remenaunt  were  anhanged,  more  and  lesse, 

That  were  consented  to  this  cursednesse. 

Her  maye  men  se  how  synne  hath  his  meritc ; 
Be  war,  for  no  man  woot  how  God  wol  smyte 
In  no  degre,  ne  in  which  maner  wise 
The  worm  of  conscience  wol  arise  2B0 

Of  wicked  lyf,  though  it  so  pryve  be, 
That  no  man  woot  of  it  but  God  and  he ; 
Whether  that  he  be  lowed  man  or  lered, 
He  not  how  soone  that  he  may  be  afered. 
Thcrfore  I  rede  yow  this  counseil  take, 
Forsakith  synne,  er  synne  yow  forsake. 


THE   PROLOGE   OF   THE   PARDONER.       85 


THE  PROLOGE  OF  THE  PARDONER. 

[WRE  Ost  gan  swere  as  he  were  wood  ; 

'  Harrow  ! '  quod  he,  '  by  naylcs  and 
by  blood ! 

This  was  a  cursed  thef,  a  fals  justice. 
As  sehendfal  deth  as  herte  can  devise 
So  falle  upon  his  body  and  his  boones ! 
The  devel  I  bykenne  him  al  at  oones ! 
Alias !  to  deere  boughte  sche  hir  beaute'. 
Wherfore  I  say,  that  alle  men  maye  se, 
That  yiftes  of  fortune  or  of  nature 
Ben  cause  of  deth  of  many  a  creature.  lo 

Hir  beaute  was  hir  deth,  1  dar  wel  sayn ; 
Alias  !  so  pitously  as  sche  was  slayn  ? 
Bot  here  of  nil  I  nouht  procede  as  nowe, 
]\fe)i  haveful  often  more  Imrme  than  pro  we. 
'  But  trewely,  myn  owne  maister  deere, 
This  was  a  pitous  tale  for  to  heere  ; 
But  natheles,  pas  over,  this  is  no  fors. 
I  pray  to  God  to  save  thi  gentil  corps. 
And  thine  urincdes,  and  thi  jordanes, 
Thine  Ypoa^as,  and  thine  Oaliounes,  20 

And  every  boist  ful  of  thi  letuarie, 
God  blesse  hem  and  oure  lady  seinte  Marie  ! 
So  mot  I  then,  thou  art  a  propre  man, 
And  y-lik  a  prelat,  by  seint  Runyan. 
Sayde  1  not  wel  ?  can  I  not  speke  in  terme  ? 
But  wel  I  woot,  thou  dost  myn  herte  to  erme, 
I  have  almost  y-caught  a  cardiaele  ; 


86  THE   CANTERBURY    TALES. 

By  corpus  boones,  but-?// 1  have  triaele, 
Other  ellcs  a  draught  of  moyst  and  corny  ale, 
Other  but  I  hiere  anoon  a  mcry  tale,  so 

Myn  hert  is  broste  for  pitd  of  that  mayde. 
Thow,  pardoner,  thou,  helamy'  he  sayde, 
'  Tel  us  a  tale,  for  thou  canst  many  oon.' 

'  It  schal  be  doon,'  quod  he,  '  and  that  anoon 
But  first/  quod  he,  '  her  at  this  ale-stake 
I  wil  hothe  drynke  and  byten  on  a  cake.' 
But  right  anoon  the  gentils  gan  to  crie, 
'  Nay,  let  him  tellen  us  no  ribaudye. 
Tel  us  som  moral  thing,  that  we  may  leere.' 
'  Gladly,'  quod  ho,  and  sayde  as  ye  schal  heere.    40 
*  But  in  the  cuppe  wil  I  me  bethinke 
Upon  some  honest  tale,  whil  that  I  drinke.' — 

'  Lordyngs,'  quod  he, '  in  chirches  whan  I  preche, 
I  peyne  me  to  have  an  hauteyn  speehe. 
And  ryng  it  out,  as  lowd  as  doth  a  belle, 
For  I  can  al  by  rote  which  that  I  telle. 
My  teeme  is  alway  oon,  and  ever  was ; 
Ttadlx  omnium  malorum  est  ciiplditas. 

'  First  I  pronounce  whennes  that  I  come. 
And  thanne  my  bulles  schewe  I  alle  and  some ;  r.o 
Oure  liege  lordes  seal  upon  my  patent, 
That  schewe  I  first  my  body  to  warent, 
That  no  man  be  so  hardy,  prest  ne  clerk, 
]\Ie  to  destourbe  of  Cristes  holy  werk. 
And  after  that  than  tel  I  forth  my  tales. 
Bulles  of  popes,  and  of  cardynales. 
Of  patriarkes,  and  of  bisshops,  I  schewe, 
And  in  Latyn  spekc  I  wordes  fewe 
To  savore  with  my  predicaeioun, 
And  for  to  stere  men  to  devocioun.  60 


THE   PROLOG E   OF   THE   PARDONER.        87 

Thanne  sehewe  I  forth  my  longe  crystal  stoones, 

I-crammed  ful  of  eloutes  and  of  boones, 

Reliks  thay  ben,  as  wene  thei  echoon. 

Than  have  I  in  latoun  a  schulder  boon. 

Which  that  was  of  an  holy  Jewes  scheep. 

Good  men,'  say  I,  '  tak  of  my  wordes  keep  ; 

If  that  this  boon  be  waischo  in  cny  -welle, 

If  cow,  or  calf,  or  scheep,  or  oxe  swelle, 

That  eny  worm  hath  ete,  or  worm  i-stonge, 

Tak  water  of  that  welle,  and  waisch  his  tonge,     70 

And  it  is  hool  anoon.     And  forthermore 

Of  pokkcs,  and  of  seabbe,  and  every  sore, 

Schal  every  scheep  be  hool,  that  of  this  welle 

Drynketh  a  draught,     Tak  heed  eek  what  I  telle ; 

If  that  the  goode  man,  that  the  beest  oweth, 

Wol  every  wike,  er  that  the  cok  him  croweth, 

Fastynge,  drynke  of  this  welle  a  draughts. 

As  thilke  holy  Jew  oure  eldrcs  taiighte, 

His  becstes  and  his  stoor  schal  multiplie. 

And,  sires,  also  it  kelith  jalousie.  so 

For  though  a  man  be  ful  in  jalous  rage. 

Let  make  with  this  water  his  potage, 

And  never  schal  he  more  his  wyf  mystrist^?. 

Though  he  the  soth  of  hir  defaute  wiste ; 

Al  hadde  sche  take  prestes  tuo  or  thre. 

Her  is  a  meteyn  eek,  that  ye  mayc  see ; 

He  that  his  honde  put  in  this  metayn, 

He  schal  have  multiplying  of  his  grayn, 

Whan  he  hath  sowen,  be  it  whete  or  otcs. 

So  that  ye  offre  pans  or  elles  grootes.  po 

And,  men  and  wommen.  oon  thing  warne  I  yew ; 

If  eny  wight  be  in  this  chirehe  now. 

That  hath  doon  synne  orrible,  that  he 


88  THE   CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Dar  nought  for  schame  of  it  schryven  be ; 

Or  ony  womman,  be  sche  yong  or  old, 

That  hath  y-maad  hir  housbond  cokewold, 

Smhe  folk  schal  have  no  power  ne  grace 

To  offre  to  my  relikes  in  this  place. 

And  who  so  fint  him  out  of  suche  blame, 

Thay  wol  come  up  and  offro  in  Goddes  name,     loo 

And  I  assoile  hem  by  the  auctorite, 

Which  that  by  buUe  was  i-graunted  me. 

'  By  this  gaude  have  I  wonne  every  yeer 
An  hundred  mark,  syn  I  was  pardoner. 
I  stonde  lik  a  clerk  in  my  pulpit, 
And  whan  the  lewed  poeple  is  doun  i-set, 
I  preche  so  as  ye  have  herd  before, 
And  telle  hem  an  hondred  japes  more. 
Than  peyne  I  me  to  strecche  forth  my  necke. 
And  est  and  west  upon  the  poeple  I  bekke,        no 
As  doth  a  dowfe,  syttyng  on  a  berne ; 
Myn  hondes  and  my  tonge  goon  so  yerne, 
That  it  is  joye  to  se  my  busynesse. 
Of  avarice  and  of  such  cursednesse 
Is  al  my  preching,  for  to  make  hem  fre 
To  ycve  here  pans,  and  namely  unto  me. 
For  myn  cntent  is  nought  but  for  to  wynne, 
And  no  thing  for  correccioun  of  synne. 
I  rekke  never  when  thay  ben  i-beryed, 
Though  that  here  soules  gon  a  blakeberyed.        120 

'  For  ccrtes  many  a  predieaeioun 
Cometh  ofte  tyme  of  evel  enteneioun ; 
Som  for  plesauns  of  folk  and  flaterie. 
To  ben  avaunced  by  ypocrisie  ; 
And  som  lor  veine  gloir,  and  som  for  liate. 
For  whan  I  dar  not  other  wej-s  debate, 


THE   PROLOGE   OF   THE    PARDONER.        89 

Than  wil  I  stynge  him  with  my  tonge  smerte 

In  preehing,  so  that  he  sehal  not  asterte 

To  be  diffamed  falsly,  if  that  he 

Hath  trespast  to  my  bretheren  or  to  me.  iso 

For  though  I  telle  not  his  propre  name, 

Men  schal  wel  knowe  that  it  is  the  same 

By  signes,  and  by  other  eireumstauncos. 

Thus  quyt  I  folk,  that  doon  us  displesaunces ; 

Thus  put  I  out  my  venym  under  hiewe 

Of  holynes,  to  seme  holy  and  trewe. 

But  schortly  myn  entent  I  wol  devyse, 

I  preche  no  thing  but  of  coveityse. 

Therfor  my  teem  is  yit,  and  ever  was. 

Radix  omnium  malorum  est  cupiclitas.  iio 

'  Thus  can  I  preche  agayn  the  same  vice 
Which  that  I  use,  and  that  is  avarice. 
But  though  myself  be  gulty  in  the  synne, 
Yit  can  I  make  other*?  folk  to  twynne 
From  avarice,  and  soone  to  repente, 
But  that  is  not  my  principal  entente ; 
I  preche  no  thing  but  for  coveitise. 
Of  this  matier  it  ought  i-nough  suffise. 

'  Than  telle  I  hem  ensamples  many  oon 
Of  olde  stories  longe  tyme  agoon.  i.'^o 

For  lewed  poeple  loven  talcs  olde ; 
Which  thinges  can  thay  wel  report  and  holdc. 
What?  trowe  ye,  whiles  that  I  may  preche 
And  Wynne  gold  and  silver  for  I  teehe, 
That  I  wil  lyve  in  povert  wilfully  ? 
Nay,  nay,  I  thought  it  never  trewely. 
For  I  wol  preche  and  begge  in  sondry  londcs. 
I  wil  not  do  no  labour  with  myn  hondes, 
Ne  make  basketis  and  lyve  therby, 


90  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

Bycause  I  wil  nought  begge  ydelly.  i60 

I  wol  noon  of  thapostles  counterfete  ; 

I  wol  have  money,  woUe,  chese,  and  whete, 

Al  were  it  yeven  of  the  prestes  page, 

Or  of  the  porest  wydow  in  a  village, 

Al  schold  hir  children  sterve  for  famyn. 

Nay,  I  wol  drinke  licour  of  the  wyn, 

And  have  a  joly  wenche  in  every  toiin. 

But  herkneth,  lordynges,  in  conclusioun, 

Youre  likyng  is  that  I  schal  telle  a  tale. 

Now  have  I  dronk  a  draught  of  corny  ale,  170 

By  God,  I  hope  I  schal  telle  yow  a  thing, 

That  schal  by  resoun  be  at  your  liking ; 

For  though  myself  be  a  ful  vicious  man, 

A  moral  tale  yit  I  yow  telle  can. 

Which  I  am  wont  to  preche,  for  to  wynne. 

Now  hold  your  pees,  my  tale  I  wol  byginne.' 


THE  PARDONERES  TALE. 

Tff^-^  Flaundres  whilom  was  a  companye 
'^^  Of  yonge  folkes,  that  hauntede  folye. 

As  ryot,  hasard,  stj^Aves,  and  tavernes ; 

Wher  as  with  lutes,  harpes,  and  gyternes, 
Thay  daunce  and  play  at  dees,  bothe  day  and  night, 
And  etc  also,  and  drynk  over  her  might ; 
Thurgh  which  thay  doon  the  devyl  sacrifise 
Withinne  the  develes  temple,  in  cursed  wise. 
By  superfluite  abhominable. 
Her  othes  been  so  greet  and  so  dampnable,  10 


THE    PARDONERES   TALE,  91 

That  it  is  grisly  for  to  hiere  hem  swere. 

Our  bhsful  Lordes  body  thay  to-tere ; 

Hem  thoughts  Jewes  rent  him  nought  y-nough  ; 

And  ech  of  hem  at  otheres  synne  lough. 

And  right  anoon  thcr  come  tombZesteris, 

Fetis  and  smal,  and  yonge  fruytsteris, 

Singers  ivith  harpes,  haudes,  ivafereres, 

Whiche  that  ben  verray  develes  officeres, 

To  kyndle  and  blowe  the  fuyr  of  leccherie, 

That  is  anexid  unto  glotonye.  20 

The  holy  wryt  take  I  to  my  witnesse, 

That  luxury  is  in  wyn  and  dronkencsse. 

Lo,  how  that  dronkcn  Loth  unkyndely 

Lay  by  his  doughtres  tuo  unwityngly, 

So  dronk  he  was  he  niste  what  he  wroughte. 

Herodes,  who-so  wel  the  story  soughte, 

Whan  he  of  ^vyn  was  repleet  at  his  fest, 

Right  at  his  oughne  table  yaf  his  best 

To  sle  the  baptist  Johan  ful  gilteles. 

Seneca  seith  a  good  word  douteles ;  so 

He  saith  he  can  no  difference  fynde 

Betuj-x  a  man  that  is  out  of  his  mynde, 

And  a  man  the  which  is  dronkelewe ; 

But  that  woodnes,  fallen  in  a  sehrcwe, 

Pcrsevereth  lenger  than  doth  dronkcnesse. 

0  glutonye,  ful  of  eorsidnesse ; 
0  cause  first  of  cure  confusioun, 
0  original  of  oure  dampnacioun, 
Til  Crist  hadde  bought  us  with  his  blood  agayn  ! 
Loketh,  how  dere,  a7id  schortly  for  to  sayn,  40 

Abought  was  first  this  cursed  felonye  ; 
Corupt  was  al  this  world  for  glotonye. 
Adam  our  fader,  and  his  wyf  also, 


92  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

Fro  Parad3s  to  labour  and  to  wo 
Were  dryven  for  that  vice,  it  is  no  drede. 
For  whils  that  Adam  fasted,  as  I  rede, 
He  was  in  Paradis,  and  whan  that  he 
Eet  of  the  fruyt  defendit  of  a  tre, 
He  was  out  cast  to  wo  and  into  peyne. 

0  glotony,  wel  ought  us  on  the  pleyne  !  50 
0,  wist  a  man  how  many  maladyes 

Folwith  of  excesse  and  of  glotonyes, 

He  wolde  be  the  more  mesurable 

Of  his  diete,  sittyng  at  his  table. 

Alias  !  the  sehorte  throte,  the  tendro  mouth, 

Maketh  the  Est  and  West,  and  North  and  South, 

In  erthe,  in  watir,  in  ayer,  man  to  swynke, 

To  gete  a  sely  glotoun  mete  and  drynke. 

Of  this  matier,  0  Poul,  wel  canstow  trete. 

Mete  unto  wombe,  and  wombe  elce  unto  mete,      eo 

Sehal  God  destroyen  bothe,  as  Powel  saith. 

Alias !  a  foul  thing  is  it  by  my  faith 

To  saye  this  word,  and  fouler  is  the  dede, 

Whan  men  so  drynke^/^  of  the  whyt  and  rede, 

That  of  his  throte  he  makith  his  prive 

Thurgh  thilke  cursed  superfluite. 

Thapostil  wepyng  saith  ful  pitously, 

Ther  walkith  many,  of  which  you  told  have  I, 

1  say  it  now  wepyng  with  pitous  vois, 

There  are  enemeyes  of  Cristes  croys  ;  70 

Of  which  the  ende  is  doth,  wombe  is  her  God. 

0  wombe,  o  bely,  o  stynkyng  is  thi  cod, 

Fulfild  of  dong  and  of  corrupcioun  ; 

At  eyther  ende  of  the  foul  is  the  soun. 

How  gret  cost  and  labour  is  the  to  fynde  ! 

These  cokes  how  they  stamp,  and  streyn,and  grynde, 


THE   TARDONERES   TALK.  93 

And  tonic  substauncc  into  accident, 

To  fulfille  al  thy  licorous  talent ! 

Out  of  the  harde  booncs  gate  thay 

The  mary,  for  thay  caste  nought  away  so 

That  may  go  thurgh  the  golet  softc  and  sootc  ; 

Of  spicery  and  Icvys,  bark  and  roote, 

Schal  ben  his  sause  maad  to  his  delyt 

To  make  him  have  a  newere  appetit. 

But  certes  he  that  haunteth  suche  delices, 

Is  deed  ther  whiles  that  he  lyveth  in  vices. 

A  licorous  thing  is  wyn,  and  dronkcnesse 

Is  ful  of  stryvyng  and  of  wrecchednesse. 

0  dronke/i  man,  disfigured  is  thi  face, 

Sour  is  thy  breth,  foul  artow  to  embrace ;  yo 

And  thurgh  thi  dronken  none  sowncth  the  soun, 

As  though  thou  seydest  ay,  Sampsoun,  Sampsoun  ; 

And  yit,  God  wot,  Sampson  drank  never  wyn. 

Thow  fallist,  as  it  were  a  stiked  swyn ; 

Thy  tongc  is  lost,  and  al  thin  honest  cure. 

For  dronkenes  is  verray  sepulture 

Of  mannes  witt  and  his  discrecioun, 

In  whom  that  drynk  hath  doniinacioun. 

He  can  no  counseil  kcpc,  it  is  no  drcde. 

mow  keep  yow  from  the  white  and  from  the  rede. 

Namely  fro  the  white  wyn  of  Leepe,  loi 

That  is  to  selle  in  Fleetstrcet  or  in  Chepe. 

This  wyn  of  Spayne  crepith  subtily 

In  other  wyncs  growyng  faste  by, 

Of  which  ther  riseth  such  fumositc. 

That  whan  a  man  hath  dronke  drauglites  thre, 

And  weneth  that  he  be  at  horn  in  Chcpe, 

He  is  in  Spayne,  right  at  the  toun  of  Lepe, 

Nought  at  the  Rochel,  ne  at  Burdeaux  toun ; 


^4  THE  CANTERBURY   TALES. 

And  thannc  Avol  thai  say,  Sampsoun,  Sampsoim. 

But  hcrkcn,  lordyngs,  o  word,  I  you  praye,         ni 

That  alle  the  soverayn  actes,  dar  I  saye, 

Of  victories  in  the  Oldc  Testament, 

Thorugh  the  verray  God  omnipotent 

Were  doon  in  abstinence  and  in  prayere  ; 

Lokith  the  Bible,  and  ther  ye  may  it  hiere. 

Loke  Atthila  the  grete  conquerour, 

Deyd  in  his  sleep,  with  schame  and  dishonour, 

Bleedyng  ay  at  his  nose  in  dronkenesse ; 

A  captayn  schuld  ay  lyve  in  sobrenesse.  12c 

And  over  al  this,  avyse  yow  right  wel, 

What  was  comaunded  unto  Lamuel ; 

Nought  Samuel,  but  Lamuel  say  I. 

Redith  the  Bible,  and  fyndeth  expresly 

Of  wyn  yevyng  to  hem  that  han  justice. 

No  more  of  this,  for  it  may  wel  suffice. 

And  now  I  have  i-spoke  of  glotonye, 

Now  wil  I  yow  defende  hasardrye, 

Hasard  is  verray  moder  of  lesynges. 
And  of  deceipt  of  cursed  forsweringes  ;  iso 

Blaspheme  of  Crist,  manslaught,  and  wast  also 
Of  catel,  and  of  tyme  ;  and  forthermo 
It  is  rcproef,  and  contrair  to  honour, 
For  to  be  halde  a  comun  hasardour. 
And  ever  the  heycr  he  is  of  astaat, 
The  more  is  he  holden  desolaat. 
If  that  a  prince  use  hasardric, 
In  alle  governance  and  policie 
He  is,  as  by  comun  opinioun, 
Holde  the  lassc  in  rcputacioun.  110 

Stilbon,  tliat  was  i-liolde  a  wis  embasitour,. 
Was  sent  unto  Corinthe  with  grot  honour 


THE   PARDONERES   TALE.  95 

Fro  Lacidomc,  to  make  hir  alliaunce ; 

And  whan  he  cam,  him  happede  j>a?-  chaiiucc, 

That  allc  the  grcttcst  that  were  of  that  lond 

Playing  atte  hasard  he  hem  fond. 

For  which,  as  soone  as  it  mights  be, 

He  stal  him  hoom  aj-cin  to  his  contre, 

And  saidc  ther,  '  I  nyl  nought  lese  my  name, 

I  nyl  not  take  on  me  so  gret  diffame,  i50 

Yow  for  to  allie  unto  noon  hasardoures. 

Sendeth  othere  wiser  embasitoures, 

For  by  my  trouthe,  me  were  lever  dye, 

Than  I  yow  scholde  to  hasardours  allye. 

For  ye,  that  ben  so  glorious  in  honoures, 

Sclial  not  allie  yow  with  hasardoures. 

As  by  my  wil,  nc  as  by  my  trete.' 

This  wise  philosophre  thus  sayd  he. 

Loke  eek  that  to  the  king  Demetrius 
The  king  of  Parthes,  as  the  book  saith  us,  160 

Sent  him  a  paire  dees  of  gold  in  scorn. 
For  he  had  used  hasard  ther  to-foru ; 
For  which  he  hield  his  gloir  and  his  renoun 
At  no  valieu  or  reputacioun. 
Lordes  maye  fynde  other  manor  play 
Honest  y-nough  to  dryve  away  the  day. 

Now  wol  I  speke  of  othes  fals  and  grcte 
A  word  or  tuo,  as  other  bookes  entrete. 
Gret  swering  is  a  thing  abhominable. 
And  f;xls  swering  is  more  reprovablc.  l7o 

The  hyhe  God  forbad  sweryng  at  al, 
Witnes  on  Matliew  ;  but  in  special 
Of  sweryng  saith  the  holy  Jercmyc, 
Tliou  schalt  say  soth  tliin  othes,  and  not  lye  ; 
And  swere  in  doom,  and  eek  in  rightwisncs ; 


96  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

Bill  ydel  sweryng  is  a  cursednes. 

Bihold  and  so,  ther  in  the  lirste  tabic 

Uf  hihe  Goddes  heste  honurablc, 

How  that  the  secounde  heste  of  him  is  this ; 

Tak  not  in  ydel  ne  my  name  amys.  180 

Lo,  he  rather  forbedith  such  sweryng, 

Than  homicide,  or  many  a  corscd  thing. 

I  say  as  by  order  thus  it  stondith ; 

This  knoweth  he  that  the  hestes  understondeth. 

How  that  the  second  best  of  God  is  that. 

And  forthcrmorc,  I  wol  the  telle  a  plat, 

The  vengance  schal  not  parte  fro  his  hous, 

That  of  his  othes  is  outrageous. 

'  By  Goddis  precious  hert,  and  by  by  his  naylcs, 

And  by  the  blood  of  Crist,  that  is  in  Hayles,      i90 

Seven  is  my  chaunce,  and  also  cink  and  tray  I 

By  Goddes  armes,  and  thou  falsly  play. 

This  daggere  schal  thurgh  thin  herte  goo  ! ' 

This  fruyt  cometh  of  the  bicchid  boones  tuo, 

Forswering,  ire,  falsnes,  homicide. 

Now  for  the  love  of  Crist  that  for  us  dyde, 

Leveth  youre  othis,  bothe  gret  and  smale. 

But,  sires,  now  wol  I  telle  forth  my  tale. 

These  riottours  thre,  of  which  I  you  telle, 
Longe  erst  than  prime  rong  eny  belle. 
Were  set  hem  in  a  tavern  for  to  drynke ; 
And  as  thay  satie,  thay  herd  a  belle  clinke 
Biforn  a  corps,  was  caricd  to  the  grave ; 
That  oon  of  hem  gan  callc  unto  his  knave, 

*  Go  bet,'  quoth  he,  '  and  axe  redily, 
Wliat  corps  is  that,  that  passeth  her  forthby ; 
And  loke  that  thou  rcporte  his  name  wcl.' 

*  Sire,'  quod  he,  '  but  that  nedeth  never  a  del ; 


00 


THE   PAHDONERES    TALE.  97 

It  was  me  told  er  ye  com  heer  tuo  hourcs ; 
He  was,  pardy,  an  old  felaw  of  youres,  210 

And  sodeinly  he  was  i-slayn  to  night ; 
For  dronk  as  he  sat  on  his  bench  upright, 
Ther  com  a  prive  thef,  men  clepen  Doth, 
That  in  this  contre  al  the  peple  sleth ; 
And  with  his  spere  he  smot  his  hert  a-tuo. 
And  went  his  way  withoute  wordes  mo. 
He  hath  a  thousand  slayn  this  pestilence. 
And,  maister,  vr  ye  conic  in  his  presence, 
Me  thinketh  that  it  is  ful  necessarie. 
For  to  be  war  of  such  an  adversarie ;  i^-^u 

Beth  redy  for  to  meete  him  evermore. 
Thus  taughte  me  my  dame,  I  say  nomore.' 
*  By  seinte  Mary  ! '  sayde  this  taverner, 
'  The  child  saith  soth  ;   for  he  hath  slayn  this  yeer. 
Hens  over  a  myle,  withinne  a  gret  village, 
Bothe  man  and  womman,  child,  and  lii/ne.  and  page; 
I  trowe  his  habitacioun  be  there. 
To  ben  avysed  gret  wisdom  it  were, 
Er  that  he  dede  a  man  that  dishonour.' 
'  Ye,  Goddis  armes  ! '  quod  this  ryottour..  230 

'  Is  it  such  peril  with  him  for  to  meete  ? 
I  schal  him  seeke  b}'  way  and  eek  by  strete, 
I  make  avow  to  Goddis  digne  boones  ! 
llerkneth,  felaws,  we  thre  ben  al  oones  ; 
Let  ech  of  us  hold  up  his  bond  to  other, 
And  cell  of  us  bycorae  othercs  brother, 
And  we  wil  slec  this  false  traitour  Dcth  ; 
He  schal  be  slayne,  that  so  many  sleeth. 
By  Goddis  dignete,  cr  it  be  night ! ' 
Togidcrcs  ban  these  thro  here  trouthes  plight    210 
To  iyve  and  deyc  ech  of  hewi  with  other, 
VOL.  III.  n 


98  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

As  though  he  were  his  oughne  sworne  brother. 

And  up  thai  Startyn,  al  dronke  in  this  rage, 

And  forth  thai  goon  toAvardes  that  yilkge, 

Of  whicli  tlic  tavcrncr  hath  spoko  biforn, 

And  many  a  grisly  oth  than  han  thay  s's\orn, 

And  Cristes  blessed  body  thay  to-rente, 

Deth  schal  be  deed,  if  that  they  may  him  hcnte. 

Eight  as  thay  wolde  have  torned  over  a  stjde, 

Whan  thai  han  goon  nought  fully  half  a  myle,    250 

An  old  man  and  a  pore  with  hem  raette. 

This  olde  man  ful  mekely  hem  grette, 

And  saide  thus,  '  Lordyngcs,  God  yow  sc  !' 

The  proudest  of  the  ryotoures  thrc 

Answerd  ayein,  '  What  ?   carle,  with  sory  grace, 

Why  artow  al  for -wrapped  save  thi  face  ? 

Whi  lyvest  thou  loivje  in  so  gret  an  age?' 

This  olde  man  gan  loke  on  his  visage 

And  saide  thus,  '  For  that  I  can  not  fynde 

A  man,  though  that  I  walke  into  Inde,  260 

Neither  in  cite  noon,  no  in  village. 

That  wol  chaunge  his  youthe  for  myn  age  ; 

And  therfore  moot  I  have  myn  age  stille 

As  longe  tyme  as  it  is  Goddes  wille. 

And  Deth,  alias  !  no  \\\\  not  have  my  lif. 

Thus  walk  I  lik  a  resteles  caytif, 

And  on  the  ground,  which  is  my  modres  gate, 

I  knokke  with  my  staf,  erly  and  late. 

And  saye,  '  Leeve  moder,  let  mc  in. 

Lo,  how  I  wane,  fleiseli,  and  blood,  and  skyn.    2:0 

Alias  !  whan  schuln  my  boones  ben  at  rest  ? 

Moder,  with  yow  wil  I  chaunge  my  chest. 

That  in  my  chamber  longe  tyme  hath  i-be, 

Ye,  for  an  haire  clout  to  wrap-in  me.' 


THE   PARDONERES  TALE.  99 

But  yet  to  mc  sche  wol  not  do  that  grace, 

For  which  ful  pale  and  welkid  is  my  tace. 

But,  sires,  to  yow  it  is  no  curtesyc 

To  speke  unto  an  old  man  vilonyc, 

But  he  trespas  in  word  or  elles  in  dede. 

In  lioly  writ  ye  may  your  self  wel  rede,  280 

Ayens  an  old  man,  hoor  upon  his  hede. 

Ye  schold  arise  ;  whercfor  1  yow  rede, 

Ne  doth  unto  an  old  man  more  harm  now, 

Namore  than  ye  wolde  men  dede  to  yow 

In  age,  if  that  ye  may  so  long  abyde. 

And  God  be  with  you,  wherso  ye  go  or  ryde  ! 

I  moot  go  thider  as  I  have  to  goo.' 

'  Nay,  olde  cherl,  by  God  !  thou  schalt  not  so,' 

Sayde  that  other  hasardour  anoon  ; 

'  Thou  partist  nought  so  lightly,  by  seint  Johan  ! 

Thou  spake  right  now  of  thilke  traitour  Deth,     2?i 

That  in  this  centre  alle  oure  frendes  sloth ; 

Have  her  my  trouth,  as  thou  art  his  aspye ; 

Tel  wher  he  is,  or  elles  thou  schalt  dye, 

By  God  and  by  that  holy  sacrament ! 

For  sothly  thou  art  oon  of  his  assent 

To  slene  us  yongc  folk,  thou  false  theef.' 

*  Now,  sires,  than  if  that  yow  be  so  leef 

To  fynde  Deth,  torn  up  this  eroked  way. 

For  in  that  grove  I  laft  him,  by  my  fay,  soo 

Under  a  tree,  and  ther  he  wil  abyde ; 

No  for  your  host  he  nyl  him  no  thing  hyde. 

Se  ye  that  ook  ?  right  ther  ye  schuln  him  fyndc. 

God  save  yow,  that  bought  ayein  mankynde. 

And  yow  amend.'     Thus  sayde  this  olde  man, 

And  everich  of  these  I'iotoures  ran, 

Til  thay  come  to  the  tre,  and  ther  thay  founde 


100  THE   CANTEEBUliY   TALES. 

Of  florins  fyn  of  gold  y-coyned  rounde, 

Wei  neygh  a  seven  busshels,  as  hem  thoughts. 

No  lenger  thanne  after  Deth  thay  soughtf ;         sio 

But  ech  of  hem  so  glad  was  of  that  sights, 

For  that  the  florens  so  faire  were  and  brighte, 

That  doun  thai  sette  hem  by  that  precious  hord. 

The  yongest  of  hem  spak  the  firste  word. 

*  Bretheren,'  quod  he, '  take  keep  what  I  schal  saye ; 

My  witte  is  gret,  though  that  I  bourde  and  i)layt'. 

This  tresour  hath  fortune  to  us  yiven 

In  mirth  and  jolyte  our  lif  to  lyven, 

And  lightly  as  it  eomth,  so  wil  we  spende. 

Ey,  Goddis  precious  dignite  !  who  wcnde  320 

To  da}'-,  that  we  schuld  have  so  fair  a  grace  ? 

But  mighte  this  gold  bo  caried  fro  this  place 

Hom  to  myn  hous,  or  oUis  unto  yourcs, 

(For  wel  I  wot  that  this  gold  is  nought  cures), 

Than  were  we  in  heyh  felicite. 

But  trewely  by  day  it  may  not  be  ; 

Men  wolde  saye  that  we  Avere  theves  stronge, 

And  for  oure  tresour  doon  us  for  to  honge. 

This  tresour  moste  caried  be  by  nighte 

As  wysly  and  as  slely  as  it  mighte.  sso 

Wherfore  I  rede,  that  cut  among  us  alle 

Be  drawc,  and  let  so  wher  the  cut  wil  fallc ; 

And  he  that  hath  the  cut,  with  herte  blithe 

Schal  remie  to  the  toun,  and  that  ful  swithe, 

To  bring  us  bred  and  wyn  ful  prively ; 

And  tuo  of  us  schal  kcpe  subtilly 

This  tresour  wel ;  and  if  he  wil  not  tarie. 

Whan  it  is  night,  we  wol  this  tresour  carie 

By  oon  assent,  ther  as  us  liketh  best.' 

That  oon  of  hem  the  cut  brought  in  his  fest,    S40 


THE    rARDONERES   TALE.  101 

And  bad  hem  drawe  and  loke  wher  it  wil  falle  ; 

And  it  fel  on  the  yongest  of  hem  alle  ; 

And  forth  toward  the  toun  he  went  anoon. 

And  al-so  soone  as  he  was  agoon, 

That  oon  of  hem  spak  thus  unto  that  other ; 

'  Thow  wost  wel  that  thou  art  my  sworne  brother. 

Thy  profyt  wol  I  telle  the  anoon. 

Thow  wost  wel  that  our  felaw  is  agoon, 

And  her  is  gold,  and  that  ful  gret  plente, 

That  schal  departed  be  among  us  thre,  350 

But  natheles,  if  I  can  schape  it  so, 

That  it  departed  were  bitwix  us  tuo, 

HadcZe  I  not  doon  a  frendes  torn  to  the  ? ' 

That  other  answerd,  '  I  not  how  that  may  be ; 

He  wot  wel  that  the  gold  is  with  us  twaye. 

What  schulde  we  than  do  ?  what  schulde  we  saye  ?' 

'  Schal  it  be  counsail?'  sayde  the  ferste  schrewe, 

'  And  I  schal  telle  the  in  wordes  fewe 

What  we  schul  doon,  and  bringe  it  wel  aboute.' 

'  I  graunte,'  quod  that  other,  '  withoute  doute,  seo 

That  by  my  troutho  I  wil  the  nought  bywraye.' 

'  Now,'  quod  the  first, '  thou  wost  wel  we  ben  twaye. 
And  two  of  us  schuln  stronger  be  than  oon.' 
Loke,  whanne  he  is  sett,  and  that  anoon 
Arys,  as  thoufjh  thou  woldest  with  him  pleye ; 
And  I  schal  ryf  him  thurgh  the  sydes  tweye, 
Whils  thou  strogelest  with  him  as  in  game. 
And  with  thi  dagger  loke  thou  do  the  same ; 
And  than  schal  al  the  gold  departed  be, 
My  dero  frend,  bitwixe  the  and  me ;  370 

Than  may  we  oure  lustes  al  fulfille. 
And  play  at  dees  right  at  our  owne  wille.' 
And  thus  accorded  ben  these  schrewes  twayn, 


102  THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 

To  sle  the  thridde,  as  ye  han  herd  me  sayn. 

This  yongcst,  which  that  wente  to  the  toun, 
Fill  fast  in  hert  he  rollith  up  and  doun 
The  beaute  of  the  florins  newe  and  brighte  ; 
'  0  Lord  ! '  quod  he,  '  if  so  were  that  I  mighte 
Have  al  this  gold  unto  my  self  alloone, 
Thcr  is  no  man  that  lyveth  under  the  troone      38 
Of  God,  that  schulde  lyve  so  mery  as  I.' 
And  atte  last  the  feend,  oure  enemy, 
Put  in  his  thought,  that  he  schulde  poysoun  bej 
With  which  he  mighte  sle  his  felawfs  tweyc. 
For-why,  the  feend  fond  him  in  such  lyvynge. 
That  he  hadcZe  leve  to  sorwe  him  to  brynge. 
For  this  witterly  was  his/»Z  entente 
To  slen  hem  bothe,  and  never  to  repente. 
And  forth  he  goth,  no  lenger  wold  he  tary*'. 
Into  the  toun  unto  a  potecarye,  soo 

And  prayde  him  that  he  him  wolde  selle 
Sora  poysoun,  that  he  might  his  rattis  quelle. 
And  eek  ther  was  a  polkat  in  his  hawe, 
That,  as  he  sayde,  his  eapouns  had  i-slawe  ; 
And  said  he  wold  him  wreke,  if  that  he  mights, 
On  vermyn,  that  destroyed  him  by  nighte. 
Thapotecary  answerd  :  '  And  thou  schalt  have 
A  thing  that,  also  God  my  soule  save, 
In  al  this  world  ther  nys  no  creature, 
That  ete  or  dronk  had  of  this  confeeture,  -lOo 

Nought  but  the  mountaunce  of  a  corn  of  whete. 
That  he  ne  schuld  his  lif  anoon  for-lete  ; 
Ye,  sterve  he  schal,  and  that  in  lasse  while, 
Than  thou  wilt  goon  a  paas  not  but  a  myle. 
The  poysoun  is  so  strong  and  violent.' 
This  cursed  man  hath  in  his  bond  i-hent 


THE   PARDONERES   TALE.  103 

This  poysoun  in  a  box,  and  sins  he  ran 

Into  the  nexte  stret  unto  a  man, 

And  borwed  him  largo  boteles  thro  ; 

And  in  the  two  his  poysoun  poured  he ;  4io 

The  thrid  he  kepede  clene  for  his  drynke, 

For  al  the  night  he  schop  him  for  to  swynke 

In  earying  the  gold  out  of  that  place. 

And  whan  this  riotour,  with  sory  grace, 

llath  fiUid  with  wyn  his  grete  hotels  thre> 

To  his  felaws  ayein  repairetli  he. 

What  nedith  it  therof  to  sermoun  more  ? 
For  right  as  thay  hadde  cast  his  deth  bifore, 
Right  so  thay  han  him  slayn,  and  that  anoon. 
And  whan  this  was  i-doon,  th?/s  spak  that  oon  :  420 
'  Now  let  us  drynk  and  sitte,  and  make  us  mery 
And  siththen  we  wil  his  body  bery.' 
And  afterward  it  happed  him  j;or  cas, 
To  take  the  hotel  ther  the  poysoun  was. 
And  drank,  and  yaf  his  felaw  drink  also, 
For  which  anon  thay  stervede  bo  the  tuo. 
But  certes  I  suppose  that  Avycen 
Wrot  never  in  canoun,  ne  in  non  fen, 
:Mo  wonder  sorv/es  of  empoisonyng. 
Than  haddc  these  wrceches  tuo  or  here  cudyng. 
Thus  endid  been  these  homicides  tuo,  -m 

And  eek  the  fals  empoysoner  also. 

0  cursede  synno  ful  of  curscdnesse  ! 
0  traytorous  homicidy  !  0  wikkednesse  ! 
0  glotony,  luxurie,  and  hasardrye  ! 
Thou  blasphemour  of  Crist  with  vilanye. 
And  othes  grete,  of  usage  and  of  pride  ! 
Alias !  mankynde,  how  may  it  bytyde, 
That  to  thy  creatour,  which  that  the  wrought^, 


104  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

And  with  his  precious  herte-blood  the  boughte,   440 
Thou  art  so  fals  and  so  imkynde,  alias  ! 

'  Now,  good  men,  God  foryeve  yow  your  trespas, 
And  ware  yow  fro  the  synne  of  avarice. 
Myn  holy  pardoun  may  j-ou  alle  warice, 
So  that  ye  ofFren  noblis  or  starlinges, 
Or  ellcs  silver  spones,  hroches,  or  rynges, 
Bowith  your  hedes  under  this  holy  bulle. 
Cometh  forth,  ye  wyves,  and  offreth  your  wolle ; 
Your  names  I  entre  her  in  my  rolle  anoon ; 
Into  the  blis  of  heven  schul  ye  goon  ;  450 

I  yow  assoile  by  myn  heyh  power, 
If  ye  woln  offre,  as  clone  and  eek  als  cler 
As  ye  were  born.     And,  sires,  lo,  thus  I  preche ; 
And  Jhesu  Crist,  that  is  oure  soules  leche, 
So  graunte  yow  his  pardoun  to  reeeyve  ; 
For  that  is  best,  I  wil  not  yow  disceyve. 
But,  sires,  0  word  foryat  I  in  my  tale ; 
I  have  reliks  and  pardoun  in  my  male, 
As  fair  as  cny  man  in  Engelond, 
Which  Avcre  me  yeve  by  the  popes  hond.  460 

If  eny  of  yow  wol  of  devocioun 
Offrcn,  and  have  myn  absolucioun, 
Cometh  forth  anora,  knelith  her  adoun, 
And  ye  schul  have  here  my  pardoun. 
Or  elles  takith  pardoun,  as  ye  wende, 
Al  newe  and  frcissch  at  eveiy  townes  ende, 
So  that  ye  ofFren  alway  new  and  newe 
Nobles  and  pens,  which  that  ben  good  and  trewe. 
It  is  an  honour  to  every  that  is  heer. 
That  ye  may  have  a  suflisaunt  pardoner  470 

Tassoile  yow  in  centre  as  ye  ryde. 
For  aventures  which  that  may  bytyde. 


THE    PARDONERES   TALE,  105 

For  paraxmter  ther  may  falle  oon,  or  tuo, 

Doun  of  his  hors,  and  breke  his  nekke  a-tuo. 

Loke,  such  a  seurete  is  to  you  alle 

That  I  am  in  your  felasehip  i-fallo, 

That  may  assoyle  you  bothe  more  or  lasso, 

Whan  that  the  soule  schal  fro  the  body  passe. 

I  rede  that  oure  hosto  sehal  bygynne, 

For  he  is  most  envoliped  in  synne.  480 

Com  forth,  sire  ost,  and  ofler  first  anoon, 

And  thou  schalt  kisse  the  reliquis  everiehoon, 

Ye,  for  a  grote ;  unbocle  anone  thi  purs.' 

'  Nay,  nay,'  quod  he,  '  than  have  I  Cristes  curs  ! 
Let  be,'  quod  he,  '  it  sehal  not  be,  so  theeeh. 
Thou  woldest  make  me  kisse  thin  olde  breech. 
And  swere  it  were  a  relik  of  a  seynt. 
Though  it  were  with  thy  foundement  depeynt. 
But  by  the  cros,  which  that  seynt  Heleyn  fond, 
I  wold  I  hadJe  thy  coylons  in  myn  bond,  490 

In  stede  of  reliks,  or  of  seintuary. 
Let  cut  hem  of,  I  wol  help  hem  to  cary ; 
Thay  schul  be  schryned  in  an  hogges  tord.' 
This  Pardoner  answcrde  nat  o  word; 
So  wroth  he  was,  he  wolde  no  word  saye. 

'  Now,'  quod  oure  Host,  '  I  wol  no  longer  plaj-e 
With  the,  ne  with  noon  other  angry  man.' 
But  right  anoon  this  worthy  Knight  bj-gan, 
(Whan  that  he  saugh  that  al  the  peple  lough) 
'  No  more  of  this,  for  it  is  right  y-nough.  r>co 

Sir  pardoner,  be  glad  and  mcry  of  cheere ; 
And  ye,  sir  host,  that  ben  to  me  so  deere, 
I  pray  yow  that  ye  kisse  the  pardoner ; 
And  pardoner,  I  pray  yow  draweth  yow  ner. 
And  as  we  dede,  let  us  laugh  and  play^.' 
Anon  thay  kisse,  and  riden  forth  her  waye. 


100  THE   CANTEKBURY   TALES, 


THE  SCHIPMANNES  PROLOGS. 

^UR  Ost  upon  his  styrops  stode  anoon, 
And   seyde,  '  Good  men,   herkneth 

everichoon, 
This  was  a  thrifty  tale  for  the  noones. 
8ire  parissh  prest,'  quod  he,  '  for  Goddes  boonos, 
Tel  us  a  tale,  as  was  thy  for^^'ard  yore ; 
I  see  wel  that  ye  lered  men  in  lore 
Can  mocheZ  good,  by  Goddes  dignite.' 

The  Person  him  answerde  :   '  Benedicite  ! 
What  eyleth  the  man,  so  synfiilly  to  swere  ?' 

Our  Ost  answerd  :  '  0  Jankyn,  bo  ye  there?      lo 
Now,  goode  men,'  quod  our  Oste,  '  herkneth  me. 
I  smel  a  loUer  in  the  wind,'  quod  he, 
'  Ah'ideth  for  Goddes  dlgnc  passion, 
For  we  schul  have  a  prcdicacion  ; 
This  loller  heer  wolde  prechen  us  somwhat.' 

'  Nay  by  my  father  soule  !  that  sehal  he  nat,' 
Sayde  the  Scliipman  ;  '  heer  schal  he  naught  prcche, 
He  sehal  no  gospel  yhsen  heer  ne  teehe. 
We  levyn  al  in  the  grct  God,'  quod  he. 
'  Ho  wolde  sowen  som  difficulte,  20 

Or  springen  cokkil  in  our  clene  corn. 
And  therfor,  Ost,  I  warne  the  byforn, 
My  joly  body  schal  a  tale  telle, 
[And  I  sehal  clinken  you  so  mery  a  belle, 
That  I  schal  waken  al  this  compagnie ; 
But  it  schal  not  ben  of  philosophie, 


THE  SCHIPMANNES   TALE.  107 

Ne  of  physike,  ne  termes  queinte  of  lawe ; 
Ther  is  but  litel  Latin  in  my  mawe.'] 


THE  SCHIPMANNES  TALE. 

MARCH  AUNT  whilom  dwelled  at 

Seint  Denys, 
That  riche  was,  for  which  men  hild 
him  wys. 
A  wyf  he  had  of  excellent  beaute, 
And  eompanable,  and  reverent  was  sche ; 
Which  is  a  thing  that  eauseth  more  despence, 
Than  worth  is  al  the  cher  and  reverence 
That  men  doon  hem  at  festes  or  at  daunees. 
Such  salutaciouns  and  continaunees 
Passeth,  as  doth  the  schadow  on  a  wal ; 
But  wo  is  him  that  payc  moot  for  al.  lo 

The  sely  housbond  algat  moste  paye, 
He  most  us  clothe  in  ful  good  arraye 
Al  for  his  oiighne  worschip  richely  ; 
In  which  array  we  daunce  jolily. 
And  if  that  he  may  not,  paraventure, 
Or  elles  "svil  not  sueli  di-,^pcns  endure. 
But  thynkcth  it  is  wasted  and  i-lost. 
Than  moot  another  paye  for  oure  cost, 
"^r  lone  us  gold,  and  that  is  perilous. 

This  worthy  marchaunt  huld  a  noble  hous,       20 
For  which  he  hadde  alday  gret  repair 
For  his  largesee,  and  for  his  wyf  was  fair. 
What  wonder  is  ?  but  herkneth  to  my  tale. 


108  THE  CANTERBURY   TALES. 

Amonges  al  these  gestes  gret  and  smale, 
Ther  was  a  monk,  a  fair  man  and  a  bold, 
I  trowe,  thritty  Avyntcr  he  was  old, 
That  ever  in  con  was  drawyng  to  that  place. 
This  yonge  monk,  that  Avas  so  fair  of  face, 
Aqueynted  was  so  with  the  goode  man, 
Sithe?i  that  her  firste  knowleche  bj'gan,  so 

That  in  his  hous  as  familier  was  he 
As  it  possibil  is  a  frend  to  be. 
And  for  as  mochil  as  this  goode  man 
And  eek  this  monk,  of  which  that  I  bygan, 
Were  bothe  tuo  i-born  in  oon  village. 
The  monk  him  claymeth,  as  for  eosynage ; 
And  he  ayein  him  saith  nat  oones  nay, 
But  was  as  glad  therof,  as  foul  of  day, 
For  to  his  hert  it  was  a  gret  plesaunce. 
Thus  ben  thay  knyt  with  eterne  alliaunce,  40 

And  ilk  of  hem  gan  other  to  assure 
Of  brotherhed,  whil  that  her  lif  may  dure. 
Fre  was  daun  Johan,  and  manly  of  despence 
As  in  that  hous,  and  ful  of  diligence 
To  do  plesaunce,  and  also  gret  costage ; 
He  nought  foryat  to  yeve  the  leste  page 
In  al  that  hous ;  but,  after  her  degre. 
He  yaf  the  lord,  and  siththcn  his  meyne. 
Whan  that  he  com,  som  maner  honest  thing ; 
For  which  thay  were  as  glad  of  his  comyng         ho 
As  foul  is  feyn,  whan  that  the  sonne  uprisetli. 
No  mor  of  this  as  now,  for  it  suflfiseth. 

But  so  bifel,  this  marchaunt  on  a  day 
Schop  him  to  make  redy  his  array 
Toward  the  toun  of  Bruges  for  to  fare, 
To  byen  ther  a  porcioun  of  ware ; 


THE   SC'HIPMANNES   TALE.  109 

For  which  he  hath  to  Paris  sent  anoon 

A  messanger,  and  prayed  hath  dan  Johan 

That  he  schulde  come  to  Seint  Denys,  and  playe 

With  him,  and  with  his  wyf,  a  day  or  twaye,      eo 

Er  he  to  Brigges  went,  in  alle  wise. 

This  nobil  monk,  of  which  I  yow  devyse. 

Hath  of  his  abbot,  as  him  list,  licence, 

(Bycause  he  was  a  man  of  heih  prudence, 

And  eek  an  officer)  out  for  to  ryde. 

To  se  her  graunges  and  her  berncs  wyde ; 

And  unto  Seint  Denys  he  cometh  anoon. 

Who  was  so  welcome  as  my  lord  dan  Johan, 

Oure  deere  cosyn,  ful  of  curtesie  ? 

With  him  brought  he  a  jubbe  of  malvesie,  to 

And  eek  another  ful  of  wyn  vernage, 

And  volantyn,  as  ay  was  his  usage ; 

And  thus  I  Ictc  hem  ete,  and  drynk,  and  playe, 

This  marchaunt  and  this  monk,  a  day  or  twayt'. 

The  thridde  day  this  marchaund  up  he  riseth. 
And  on  his  needes  sadly  him  avyseth ; 
And  up  into  his  countour  hous  goth  lie. 
To  rekyn  with  him-self,  as  wel  may  be, 
Of  thilke  yer,  how  that  it  with  him  stood, 
And  how  that  he  dispendcd  had  his  good,  so 

And  if  that  he  encresced  were  or  noon. 
His  bookes  and  his  bagges  many  oon 
He  hath  byforn  him  on  his  counter  bord. 
For  riche  was  his  tresor  and  liis  herd ; 
For  which  ful  fast  liis  countour  dorc  he  schetle  ; 
And  eek  he  wolde  no  man  scliold  him  lello 
Of  his  accomptes,  for  the  mene-tyme  ; 
And  thus  he  sat,  til  it  was  passed  prime. 

Dan  Johan  was  risen  in  the  morn  also, 


110  THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 

And  in  tho  gardyn  walkith  to  and  fro.  so 

And  hath  his  thingcs  said  ful  curteisly. 

This  good  wyf  com  walkyng  ful  prively 

Into  the  gardyn,  tlier  ho  walketh  softc, 

And  him  salueth,  as  schc  liath  doon  ful  ofte. 

A  mayde  child  com  in  hir  compaignie, 

Whicli  as  hir  list  sche  may  governc  and  gyc, 

For  yit  under  the  ycrde  was  the  mayde. 

'  0  dere  cosyn  myn,  dan  Johan/  schc  sayde, 

*  What  aylcth  yow  so  rathe  to  arise  ? ' 

'  Nece,'  quod  he,  '  it  aught  y-nough  suffise         loo 

Fyve  houres  for  to  slepe  upon  a  night ; 

But  it  were  for  eny  old  palled  wight, 

As  ben  these  weddid  men,  that  lye  and  dare, 

As  in  a  forme  ther  lith  a  wery  liare, 

Were  al  for-straught  with  houndcs  gret  and  smalc. 

But,  dere  nece,  why  be  ye  so  pale  ? 

I  trowe  certis,  that  oure  goode  man 

Hath  on  yow  laborid,  sith  the  night  bygan, 

That  yow  were  nede  to  rcsten  hastiliche.' 

And  with  that  word  he  lowgh  ful  meriliche,       no 

And  of  his  owne  thought  he  loex  al  reed. 

This  faire  wyf  bygan  to  schake  hir  heed, 
And  sayde  thus,  '  Ye,  God  wot  al,'  quod  sche. 
'  Nay,  cosyn  myn,  it  stant  not  so  with  me. 
For  by  that  God,  that  yaf  me  soulc  and  lif, 
In  al  the  reme  of  Fraunce  is  ther  no  wyf 
That  lasse  lust  hath  to  that  sory  play  ; 
For  I  may  synge  alias  and  waylaway 
That  I  was  born ;  but  to  no  wight,'  quod  sche, 
'  Dar  I  not  telle  how  it  stont  with  me.  120 

Whcrfor  I  think  out  of  this  lond  to  wende. 
Or  elles  of  my-sclf  to  make  an  ende, 


THE   SCHIPMANNES  TALE.  HI 

So  fill  am  I  of  drede  and  eek  of  care.' 

This  monk  bj-gan  upon  this  vryi  to  stare  ; 
And  sayd,  '  Alias  !  my  ncco,  God  forbede, 
That  ye  for  eny  sorw,  or  eny  drcde, 
Fordo  your  self;  but  telleth  me  your  greef, 
Paraventure  I  may  in  youre  mescheef 
Councel  or  help ;  and  therfor  telleth  me 
Al  your  anno}-,  for  it  schal  be  secre.  iso 

For  on  my  portos  here  I  make  an  oth, 
That  never  in  my  lif,  for  lief  ne  loth, 
Ne  schal  I  of  no  counseil  you  bywraye.' 
'  The  same  ayein,'  quod  sche,  '  to  yow  I  sayc. 
By  God  and  by  this  portos  wil  I  swerc, 
Though  men  me  wolde  al  in  peces  terc, 
Ne  schal  I  never,  for  to  go  to  helle, 
Bywreye  a  word  of  thing  that  ye  me  telle, 
Not  for  no  cosynage,  ne  alliaunce, 
But  verrayly  for  love  and  affiaunce.'  UJ 

Thus  ben  thay  sworn,  and  herupon  i-kist. 
And  ilk  of  hem  told  other  what  hem  list. 

'  Cosyn,'  quod  sche,  '  if  that  I  had  a  space, 
As  I  have  noon,  and  namly  in  this  place, 
Then  wold  I  telle  a  legend  of  my  lyf. 
What  I  have  suffred  sith  I  was  a  wyf 
With  myn  housbond,  though  he  be  your  cosyn.' 
*  Nay,'  quod  this  monk, '  by  God  and  seint  Martyn  ! 
He  nis  no  more  cosyn  unto  me, 
Than  is  this  leef  that  hongeth  on  the  tre  ;  !-:o 

I  cleped  him  so,  by  seint  Denis  of  Fraunce, 
To  have  the  more  cause  of  acqueyntaunce 
Of  yow,  which  I  have  loved  specially 
Aboven  alle  wommen  sikcrly  ; 
This  swcre  I  yow  on  my  professioun. 


112  THE    CA^■TERBUIlY    TALES. 

Tellitli  youre  greef,  lest  that  he  come  adoun, 

And  hasteth  yow ;  and  goth  your  way  anoon.' 

'  My  deere  love,'  quod  sehe,  '  0  dan  Johan  ! 

Ful  leef  me  were  this  counseil  for  to  hyde, 

But  out  it  moot,  I  may  no  more  abyde.  it30 

Myn  housbond  is  to  me  the  worste  man. 

That  ever  was  siththe  the  world  bigan ; 

But  sith  I  am  a  wif,  it  sit  nought  me 

To  telle  no  wight  of  oure  privcte, 

Neythev  a-hedde,  iie  in  none  other  place ; 

God  schilde  I  scholde  telle  it  for  his  grace  I 

A  wyf  ne  schal  not  say  of  hir  housbonde 

But  al  honour,  as  I  can  understonde. 

Save  unto  yow  thus  moche  telle  I  schal; 

As  help  me  God,  he  is  not  worth  at  al,  170 

In  no  dcgrc,  the  valicu  of  a  flie. 

But  yit  me  greveth  most  his  nigardye. 

And  wel  ye  wot,  that  wymmen  naturelly 

Desiren  sixe  thingcs,  as  wel  as  I. 

They  wolde  that  here  housbondes  scholde  be 

Hardy,  and  wys,  and  richc,  and  therto  fre. 

And  buxom  to  his  wyf,  and  freisch  on  beddc. 

But  by  the  Lord  that  for  us  alle  bledde, 

For  his  honour  my-selven  to  arraye, 

A  sonday  next  comyng  yit  most  1  paye  130 

An  hundred  frank,  or  elles  I  am  lorn. 

Yit  were  me  lever  that  I  were  unborn. 

Than  me  were  doon  a  sclaunder  or  vilenye. 

And  if  myn  housbond  cek  might  it  cspie, 

I  ner  but  lost ;  and  therfor  I  yow  praye 

Lene  me  tins  somme,  or  elles  mot  I  deyc. 

Dan  Jolian,  I  acle,  lene  me  this  hundreth  frankes ; 

Parde  I  icil  nonhtfaUe  the  mij  thavkes, 


THE   SCHIPMANNES   TALE.  113 

If  that  yoiu  lust  to  do  that  I  yowe  praye. 
For  at  a  certein  day  I  wol  yow  paye,  190 

And  do  to  yow  what  pleasaimee  and  servise 
That  I  may  do,  right  as  you  list  devyse  ; 
And  but  I  do,  God  take  on  me  vengeaunce, 
As  foul  as  haddc  Geneloun  of  Fraunee ! ' 
This  gentil  monk  answerd  in  this  manere  ; 

*  Now  trewely,  myn  owne  lady  deere, 
I  have  on  yow  so  gret  pite  and  reuthe, 

That  I  yow  swere,  and  plighte  yow  my  treuthe, 

Than  whan  your  housbond  is  to  Flaundres  fore, 

I  schal  deliver  yow  out  of  youre  care,  200 

For  I  wol  bringe  yow  an  hundred  frankcs.' 

And  with  that  woi'd  he  caught  hir  by  the  sehankcs. 

And  hir  embraced  hard,  and  kist  hir  ofte. 

'  Goth  now  your  way,'  quod  he, '  al  stille  and  softe. 

And  let  us  dyne  as  sone  as  ever  ye  maye. 

For  by  my  ehilindre  it  is  prime  of  day<3 ; 

Goth  now,  and  beth  as  trew  as  I  schal  be.' 

*  Now  elles  God  forbede,  sire  ! '  quod  sche. 
And  forth  sche  goth,  as  joly  as  a  pye, 

And  bad  the  cookes  that  thai  sehold  hem  hye,    210 
So  that  men  myghte  dyne,  and  that  anoon. 
Up  to  hir  housbond  this  wif  is  ?/-goon. 
And  knokketh  at  his  dore  boldely. 
'  Quy  est  la?'  quod  he.     '  Peter  !  it  am  I,' 
Quod  sche.     '  How  longe,  sire,  wol  ye  faste  ? 
How  longe  tymc  wol  ye  reken  and  caste 
Your  sommes,  and  your  bokes,  and  your  thinges  ? 
The  devel  have  part  of  alle  such  rekenynges. 
Ye  have  i-nough  pardy  of  Goddcs  sonde. 
Com  doun  to  day,  and  let  your  bagges  stonde.    220 
Ne  be  ye  not  aschamed,  that  daun  Johan 
VOL.  iir.  T 


114  THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 

Schal  alday  fastyng  thus  elenge  goon  ? 
What  ?  let  us  hiere  masse,  and  go  we  dyne,' 

'Wif/  quod  this  man,  Mitel  canstow  divine 
The  curious  besynesse  that  we  have  ; 
For  of  us  chapmen,  al-ao  God  mo  save, 
And  by  that  lord  that  cleped  is  seint  Ive, 
Scarsly  amonges  twelve,  two  schuln  thrive 
Continuelly,  lastyng  unto  our  age. 
We  may  wel  make  cheer  and  good  visage,  S30 

And  dryve  forth  the  world,  as  it  may  be, 
And  kepen  our  estat  in  privete', 
Til  we  be  deed,  or  elles  that  we  playe 
A  pilgrimage,  or  goon  out  of  the  waye ; 
And  therfor  have  I  gret  neeessite 
Upon  this  queynte  world  to  avyse  me. 
For  evermor  we  moste  stond  in  drede 
Of  hap  and  fortun  in  our  chapmanhede. 
To  Flaundres  wil  I  go  to  morw  at  day, 
And  come  agayn  as  soone  as  ever  I  may ;  240 

For  which,  my  deere  wif,  I  the  byseeke 
As  be  to  every  wight  buxom  and  meeke, 
And  for  to  kepe  oure  good  be  curious. 
And  honestly  governe  wel  our  hous. 
Thou  hast  y-nough,  in  every  manor  wise, 
That  to  a  thrifty  housbond  may  suffise. 
The  lakketh  noon  array,  no  no  vitaile  ; 
Of  silver  in  thy  purs  thou  mayst  not  faile.' 
And  with  that  word  his  countour  dore  he  schitte. 
And  doun  he  gotli ;  no  longer  wold  he  lette  ;     250 
And  hastily  a  masse  was  ther  i-sayd. 
And  spedily  the  tables  were  i-layd. 
And  to  the  dyner  faste  thay  hem  spedde. 
And  rychely  this  chapman  the  monk  fedde. 


THE    SCHIPMANNES   TALE.  115 

And  after  dyner  daun  Johan  sobrely 
This  chapman  took  on-part,  and  prively 
Sayd  him  thus  :  '  Cosyn,  it  stondeth  so, 
That,  wel  I  so,  to  Brigges  wol  ye  go ; 
God  and  seint  Austyn  spede  you  and  gyde.    - 
I  pray  yow,  cosyn,  wisly  that  ye  ryde ;  260 

Governeth  yow  also  of  your  diete 
Al  temperelly,  and  namely  in  this  hete. 
Betwix  us  tuo  nedeth  no  straunge  fare  ; 
Far  wel,  cosyn,  God  sehilde  you  fro  care. 
If  eny  thing  thor  l^o  by  day  or  night, 
If  it  lay  in  my  power  and  my  might. 
That  ye  wil  me  comaunde  in  eny  wise, 
It  schal  be  doon,  right  as  ye  wol  devyse. 

0  thing  er  that  ye  goon,  if  it  mighte  be, 

1  wolde  praye  yow  for  to  lene  me  270 
An  hundred  frankes  for  a  wyke  or  tweye. 

For  certeyn  bestis  that  I  moste  beye. 

To  store  with  a  place  that  is  ourcs ; 

(God  help  me  so,  I  wolde  it  were  yourcs  !) 

I  schal  not  faile  seurly  of  my  day. 

Nought  for  a  thousand  frankes,  a  myle  way. 

But  let  this  thing  be  secre,  I  yow  praye ; 

For  for  the  bestis  this  night  most  I  paye. 

And  fare  now  wel,  myn  owne  cosyn  deere ; 

Graunt  mercy  of  your  cost  and  of  your  cheere.'  2so 

This  noble  mcrchaunt  gentilly  anoon 
Answerd  and  sayde  :   '  0  cosyn  daun  Johan, 
Now  sikerly  this  is  a  smal  request ; 
My  gold  is  youres,  whanne  that  yow  lest, 
And  noughl  oonly  my  gold,  but  my  chafFare ; 
Tak  what  yow  liste,  God  sehilde  that  ye  spare  ! 
Bat  con  thing  is,  ye  know  it  wel  y-nough 


IIG  THE   CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Of  chapmen,  that  her  money  is  here  plough. 

We  may  creaunce  whils  we  have  a  name, 

But  goldlcs  for  to  be  it  is  no  game.  290 

Pay  it  agayn,  whan  it  hth  in  your  ese ; 

After  my  might  ful  fayn  wold  I  yow  plese.' 

This  hundred  frankes  he  fet  forth  anoon, 
And  prively  he  took  hem  to  daun  Johan ; 
No  wight  in  al  this  world  wist  of  this  loone, 
Savyng  the  marchaund,  and  daun  Johan  alloone, 
Thay  drynke,  and  speke,  and  rome  a  while  and  playe, 
Til  that  dan  Johan  rydeth  to  his  abbaye. 
The  morwc  cam,  and  forth  this  marchaund  rideth 
To  Flaundres-ward,  his  prentis  wel  him  gydeth, 
To  that  he  cam  to  Brigges  merily.  30. 

Now  goth  this  marchaund  faste  and  busily 
About  his  neede,  and  bieth,  and  creaunceth ; 
He  neither  pleyeth  attc  dys,  ne  dauneeth ; 
But  as  a  marchaund,  schortly  for  to  telle, 
He  lad  his  lyf,  and  ther  I  let  him  duclle. 

The  sonday  next  the  marchaund  was  agoon, 
To  Seint  Denys  i-eome  is  daun  Johan, 
With  croune  and  herd  al  freisch  and  newe  i-schave. 
In  al  the  hous  ther  nas  so  litel  a  knave,  310 

Ne  no  Avight  elles,  that  he  nas  ful  fayn, 
For  that  my  lord  dan  Johan  was  come  agayn. 
And  schortly  to  the  poyntc  for  to  gon. 
This  feire  wif  aeordith  witli  dan  Johan, 
That  for  these  hundred  frank  he  sohuld  al  night 
Have  hir  in  his  armes  bolt  upright ; 
And  this  aeord  parformcd  was  in  dede. 
In  mirth  al  night  a  bisy  lif  thay  lede 
Til  it  was  day,  than  dan  Johan  went  his  way, 
And  bad  the  mcigne  far  wel,  have  good  day.      S2e 


THE   SCHIPMANNES  TALE.  117 

For  noon  of  hem,  ne  no  wight  in  the  toun, 
Hath  of  dan  Johan  noon  suspeecioun  ; 
And  forth  he  rideth  hom  to  his  abbay, 
Or  wher  him  list,  no  more  of  him  I  say. 

This  marchaund,  whan  that  endid  was  the  faire, 
To  Seynt  Denys  he  gan  for  to  repeire, 
And  with  his  wif  he  maketh  fest  and  cheers, 
And  tellith  hir  that  chaftar  is  so  deere, 
That  needes  most  he  make  a  chevisauncc. 
For  he  was  bounde  in  a  reconisaunce,  330 

To  paye  twenty  thousand  scheldes  anoon. 
For  which  this  marchaund  is  to  Paris  goon, 
To  borwe  of  certeyn  frendes  that  he  hadde 
A  certein  frankes,  and  some  with  him  he  ladde. 
And  whan  that  he  was  come  into  the  toun 
For  gret  ehiertee  and  gret  affeccioun, 
Unto  dan  Johan  he  first  goth  him  to  playe ; 
Nought  for  to  borwe  of  him  no  kyn  monayc, 
But  for  to  wite  and  se  of  his  welfare, 
And  for  to  telle  him  of  his  chafFarc,  340 

As  ficndes  doon,  whan  thay  ben  met  in  fere. 
Dan  Johan  him  maketh  fest  and  mery  cheere ; 
And  he  him  told  agayn  ful  specially, 
How  he  hadfZe  bought  right  wel  and  graciously 
(Thanked  be  God  !)  al  hole  his  marchaundise ; 
Save  that  he  most  in  alle  manere  wise 
Maken  a  chevyssauns,  as  for  his  best ; 
And  than  he  schulde  be  in  joye  and  rest. 
Dan  Johan  answerde,  '  Certis  I  am  fayn, 
That  ye  in  hele  are  comen  hom  agayn ;  350 

And  if  that  I  were  riche,  as  have  I  blisse, 
Of  twenty  thousand  scheld  schulde  ye  not  mysse. 
For  ye  so  kyndcly  this  other  day 


118  THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 

Lento  me  gold ;  and  as  I  can  and  may 

I  thanke  yow,  by  God  and  by  seint  Jame. 

But  natheles  I  took  it  to  oure  dame, 

Yourc  wif  at  Jiome,  the  same  gokl  aj'ein 

Upon  your  bench,  sche  wot  it  wel  certeyn, 

By  certain  toknes  that  I  can  hir  telle. 

Now  by  your  Icve,  I  may  no  lenger  duelle  ;        sso 

Oure  abbot  wol  out  of  this  toun  anoon, 

And  in  his  compaignye  moot  I  goon. 

Crete  wel  oure  dame,  myn  owen  nece  swete, 

And  far  wel,  dere  cosyn,  til  that  we  meete.' 

This  marchaund,  which  that  was  bothe  Avar  and  wys, 

Creaunccd  hath,  and  payed  eek  in  Parys 

To  certeyn  Lombardes  rcdy  in  her  bond 

Tliis  somme  of  gold,  and  took  of  hem  his  bond. 

And  horn  he  goth,  as  mery  as  a  popinjaj'. 

For  Avel  he  kncAV  he  stood  in  such  array,  sro 

That  ncedes  most  he  wynne  in  that  viagc 

A  thousand  frankes,  above  al  his  costage. 

Hia  wyffid  redy  mette  him  at  the  gate, 

As  sche  was  wont  of  old  usage  algate  ; 

And  al  that  night  in  mirthe  thny  ben  sette. 

For  he  was  riche,  and  clerly  out  of  dette. 

Whan  it  was  day,  this  marchaund  gan  embrace 

His  wyf  al  newe,  and  kist  hir  on  hir  face. 

And  up  he  goth,  and  maketh  it  ful  tough. 

'  No  more,'  quod  sche, '  by  God,  yc  have  y-nough ; ' 

And  wantonnly  with  him  sche  lay  and  playde,  38i 

Till  atte  laste  thus  this  marchaund  sayde : — 

*  By  God,'  quod  he,  '  I  am  a  litel  wroth 

With  yow,  my  wyf,  although  it  be  me  loth ; 

And  wite  ye  why  ?  by  God,  as  that  I  gesse, 

Ye  han  i-maad  a  maner  straungenesse 


THE    SCHIPMANNES   TALE.  119 

Bitwixe  me  and  my  eosyn  dan  Johan. 

Ye  schold  have  warned  me,  er  I  hadde  goon, 

That  he  yow  had  an  hundred  frankcs  payd 

By  redy  tokne  ;  and  huld  him  evil  appayd  090 

For  that  I  to  him  spak  of  chevysaunce, 

(Me  semede  so  as  by  his  eountenaunce)  ; 

But  natheles,  by  God  of  heven  king ! 

1  thoughte  nought  to  axe  him  no  thing. 

I  pray  the,  wyf,  do  thou  no  more  so. 

Tel  me  alway,  er  that  I  fro  the  go, 

If  cny  dettour  have  in  myn  absence 

I-payed  the,  lest  in  thy  necgligence 

I  may  him  axe  a  thing  that  he  hath  payed.' 

This  wyf  was  not  aftered  nc  aflrayed,  400 

But  holddij  sche  sayde,  and  that  anoon  : 
'  Mary  !  I  difFy  that  false  monk,  dan  Johan  I 
I  kepe  not  of  his  tokenes  never  a  del ; 
He  took  me  a  certeyn  gold,  that  wot  I  wel. 
What?  cvcl  thcdoui  on  hiymonkes  snowte  ! 
For,  God  it  wot !  I  wende  withoute  doutc, 
That  he  had  yevc  it  me,  bycause  of  yow, 
To  do  therwith  myn  honour  and  my  prow, 
For  cosynage,  and  eek  for  hele  cheer 
That  he  hath  had  ful  ofte  tyme  heer.  110 

But  synnes  that  I  stonde  in  this  disjoynt, 
I  wol  answere  yow  schortly  to  the  poynt. 
Ye  han  mo  slakke  dettours  than  am  I ; 
For  I  wol  paye  yow  wel  and  redily 
Fro  day  to  day,  and  if  so  be  I  faile, 
I  am  your  wif,  score  it  upon  my  taile, 
And  I  schal  paye  it  as  soone  as  I  may. 
For  by  my  trouthe,  I  have  on  myn  array, 
And  nought  on  wast,  bistowed  it  every  del. 


120  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

And  for  I  have  bistowed  it  so  wel  4.2C 

To  youre  honour,  for  Goddes  sake  I  saye, 

As  beth  nought  wroth,  but  let  us  laugh  and  playe; 

Ye  schul  my  joly  body  have  to  wedde ; 

Ey  God,  I  wol  not  paye  yow  but  on  beddc ; 

Foryeve  it  me,  myn  ownc  spouse  dcere ; 

Turnc  hider-ward  and  make  better  cheere.' 

This  marchaund  saugh  noon  other  remedy ; 
And  for  to  chide,  it  nas  but  foly, 
Sith  that  the  thing  may  not  amendid  be. 
'  Note,  wif,'  he  sayde,  '  and  I  foryive  it  the  ;      '  430 
But  by  thi  lif,  ne  be  no  more  so  large  ; 
Keep  better  my  good,  this  yive  I  the  in  charge.' 
Thus  endeth  now  my  tale,  and  God  us  sende 
Talyng  y-nough,  unto  our  lyves  ende  !' 


THE   PRIORESSES  PROLOGE.  121 


THE  PRIORESSES  PROLOGE. 

^EL  saj'd,  by  corpus    boones ! '  quod 
ouro  Host, 
*  NoAV  longe  mot  thou  sayle  by  the  cost, 
Sir  gentil  maister,  gentil  mariner  ! 
God  jive  the  monk  a  thousand  last  quade  yer, 
Haha  !  felaws,  be  war  for  such  a  jape. 
The  monk  put  in  the  manncs  hood  an  ape. 
And  in  his  wyves  eek,  by  seint  Austyn. 
Draweth  no  monkes  more  unto  your  in. 
But  now  pas  over,  and  let  us  lokc  aboute. 
Who  schal  now  telle  first  of  al  this  route  ic 

Another  tale ; '  and  with  that  word  he  sayde, 
As  curteisly  as  it  hadfZe  ben  a  mayde, 
'  My  lady  Prioresse,  by  your  leve. 
So  that  I  wist  I  scholde  yow  not  greve, 
I  wolde  demo,  that  ye  telle  scholde 
A  tale  next,  if  so  were  that  ye  Avolde. 
Now  wol  ye  vouche  sauf,  my  lady  deere  ? ' 
'  Gladly,'  quod  sche,  and  sayd  in  this  manere. 


122 


THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 


THE  PRIORESSES  TALE. 


10 


LORD,  ourc  Lord,  thy  name  how 

raervej'lous 
Ls  in  this  large  world  i-sprad  !  (quod 
sche) 

For  nouglit  oonly  thy  laude  precious 
Parformed  is  by  men  of  heih  degre, 
But  by  mouthes  of  children  thy  bounte 
Parformed  is ;  on  oure  brest  soukynge 
Som  tyme  schewe  thay  thin  heriynge. 

Wherfore  in  laudc,  as  I  best  can  or  may, 
Of  the  and  of  thy  white  lily  flour. 
Which  that  the  bar,  and  is  a  mayde  alway, 
To  telle  a  story  I  \y\\  do  my  labour ; 
Nought  that  I  may  encresce  youre  honour, 
For  sche  hirsilf  is  honour  and  roote 
Of  bounte,  next  hir  Sone,  and  soules  boote. 

0  moodir  mayde,  o  mayde  mooder  fre ! 
0  bussh  unbrent,  brennyng  in  Moises  sight, 
That  ravysshedest  doun  fro  the  deite, 
Thurgh  thin  humblesse,  the  gost  that  in  the  alighte; 
Of  whos  vertu,  he  in  thin  herte  pighte, 
Conceyved  was  the  Fadres  sapience  ; 
Help  me  to  telle  it  in  thy  reverence. 

Lady,  thi  bounte,  and  thy  magnificence. 
Thy  vertu  and  thi  gret  humilite, 
Ther  may  no  tonge  expres  in  no  science ; 
For  som  tyme,  lady,  er  men  praye  to  the, 
Thow  gost  biforn  of  thy  bcnignite. 


20 


THE   PRIORESSES   TALE.  123 

And  getist  us  the  light,  thurgh  thy  prayere 
To  gyden  us  the  way  to  thy  Sone  so  deere. 

My  connyng  is  to  weyk,  o  blisful  queene, 
For  to  declare  thy  grete  worthinesse,  30 

That  I  may  not  this  in  my  -w-yt  susteene ; 
But  as  a  child  of  twclf  month  old  or  lesse, 
That  can  unnethes  cny  word  expresse, 
Right  so  fare  I,  and  therfor  I  you  praye, 
Gydeth  my  song,  that  I  schal  of  you  saye. 

Ther  was  in  Acy,  in  a  greet  citee, 
Amonges  Cristen  folk  a  Jewerye, 
Susteyned  by  a  lord  of  that  centre. 
For  foul  usure,  and  lucre  of  felonye, 
Hateful  to  Crist,  and  to  his  compaignye ;  40 

And  thurgh  the  sLrete  men  mighte  ride  and  wcnde, 
For  it  was  fre,  and  open  at  everich  ende. 

A  litel  scole  of  Cristen  folk  ther  stood 
Doun  at  the  forther  end,  in  which  ther  were 
Children  an  hcep  y-comon  of  Cristen  blood. 
That  lered  in  that  scole,  yer  by  yerc, 
Such  maner  doctrine  as  men  usede  there ; 
This  is  to  say*?,  to  synge  and  to  rede, 
As  smale  childer  doon  in  her  childhede. 

Among  these  children  was  a  widow  sone,        so 
A  litel  clergeoun,  that  seve  yer  was  of  age, 
That  day  by  day  to  scole  Avas  his  wone ; 
And  cck  also,  wherso  he  saugh  thymage 
Of  Cristes  moder,  had  he  in  usage. 
As  him  was  taught,  to  knele  adoun,  and  saye 
His  Ave  Maria,  as  he  goth  by  the  waye. 

Thus  hath  this  Avidow  her  litel  child  i-taught 
Oure  blisful  lady,  Cristes  moder  deere, 
To  worschip  ay,  and  he  foryat  it  nouglit ; 


124  THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 

For  eely  child  wil  alway  soone  leere.  6o 

But  ay  whan  I  remembre  of  this  matiere, 
Seint  Nicholas  stont  ever  in  my  presence, 
For  he  so  yong  to  Crist  dede  reverence. 

This  litel  child,  his  litel  book  lernynge. 
As  he  sat  in  the  scole  in  his  primere, 
He  0  alma  redemptoris  herde  synge, 
As  children  lerned  her  antiphonere ; 
And  as  he  durst,  he  drough  him  ner  and  neere, 
And  herkned  ever  the  wordes  and  the  note, 
Til  he  the  firste  vers  couthe  al  by  rote.  70 

Nought  wist  he  what  his  Latyn  was  to  saye, 
For  he  so  yong  and  tender  was  of  age; 
But  on  a  day  his  felaw  gan  he  praye 
To  cxpoune  him  the  song  in  his  langage, 
Or  telle  him  what  this  song  was  in  usage ; 
This  prayd  he  him  to  construe  and  declare, 
Ful  often  tyme  upon  his  knees  bare. 

His  fclaw,  which  that  elder  was  than  he, 
Answerd  him  thus :  '  This  song,  I  have  herd  seyc, 
Was  makcd  of  our  blisful  lady  fre,  so 

Hire  to  saluen,  and  cek  hire  to  preyc 
To  ben  our  help  and  soeour  whan  we  deye. 
I  can  no  more  cxpoune  in  this  matere ; 
I  lernc  song,  I  can  no  more  gramer.' 

'  And  is  this  song  i-maad  in  reverence 
Of  Cristes  moder  ?'  sayde  this  innocent; 
'  Now  ccrtes  I  wol  do  my  diligence 
To  conno  it  al,  er  Cristemasse  be  went ; 
Though  that  I  for  my  primer  schal  be  schent, 
And  schal  be  betyn  thries  in  an  hour,  90 

I  wol  it  conne,  our  lady  to  honoure.' 

His  fclaw  taught  him  hom-ward  prively 


THE   PRIORESSES    TALE.  125 

From  day  to  day,  til  ho  couthe  it  by  rote. 
And  than  he  song  it  wel  and  boldely ; 
Twyes  on  the  day  it  passede  thurgh  his  throte, 
From  word  to  word  accordyng  to  the  note, 
To  scole-ward  and  hom-ward  whan  lie  wente ; 
On  Cristes  moder  was  set  al  his  entente. 

As  I  have  saj'd,  thurghout  the  Jewrye 
This  litel  child  as  he  cam  to  and  fro,  loo 

Ful  merily  than  wold  he  synge  and  eric, 
0  alma  redemptoiis,  cvermo  ; 
Tlie  swetnes  hath  his  hcrte  persed  so 
Of  Cristes  moder,  that  to  hir  to  praye 
He  can  not  stynt  of  syngyng  by  the  way*?. 

Oure  firste  foo,  the  serpent  Sathanas, 
That  hath  in  Jewes  liert  his  waspis  nest, 
Upswal  and  sayde  :  '  0  Ebreik  peple,  alias  ! 
Is  this  a  thing  to  yow  that  is  honest, 
That  such  a  boy  schal  walken  as  him  lest  no 

In  youre  despyt,  and  synge  of  such  sentence, 
Which  is  ayens  your  lawes  reverence  ?' 

Fro  thennesforth  the  Jewes  han  conspired 
This  innocent  out  of  this  world  to  cnchace ; 
An  homicide  therto,  ye,  han  thay  hired. 
That  in  an  aley  had  a  prive  place ; 
And  as  the  childe  gan  forthby /or  to  pace, 
This  false  Jewe  him  hent,  and  huld  ful  faste, 
And  kut  his  throte,  and  in  a  pute  Iiim  caste. 

I  say  in  a  wardrobe  thay  him  threwc,  i;o 

Wher  as  the  Jewes  purgen  her  entraile. 
0  cursed  folk  !    0  Ilcrodes  al  newo  ! 
What  may  your  evyl  entente  you  availe  ? 
Morther  wol  out,  certcyn  it  wil  nought  failc, 
And  namly  ther  thonour  of  God  schulde  sprede ; 


126  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

The  blood  out  crieth  on  your  cursed  dede. 

0  martir  soudit  to  virginite, 
Now  maystow  syngc,  foloAvyng  ever  in  oon 
The  white  lomb  celestial,  quod  sehe, 
Of  which  the  grete  cvaungelist  seint  Johan         i"0 
In  Pathmos  wroot,  wliich  seith  that  thay  goon 
Bifore  the  lamb,  and  synge  a  song  al  newe, 
That  never  fleischly  wommen  thay  ne  knewe. 

This  pore  widowe  wayteth  al  this  night, 
After  this  litel  child,  but  he  cometh  nought ; 
For  which  as  soone  as  it  was  dayes  light, 
With  face  pale,  in  drede  and  busy  thoughte, 
Sche  hath  at  seholo  and  elles-wher  him  soughte ; 
Til  fynally  sehe  gan  of  hem  aspye. 
That  he  was  last  seyn  in  the  Jewcrie.  140 

With  moodres  pite  in  hir  brest  enclosed, 
Sche  goth,  as  sche  were  half  out  of  hir  mynde, 
To  every  place,  wher  sche  hath  supposed 
By  liklihede  hir  child  for  to  fynde ; 
And  ever  on  Cristes  mooder  meke  and  kj-nde 
Sehe  cried,  and  atte  laste  thus  sche  wrought^. 
Among  the  cursed  Jewes  sche  him  soughte. 

Sche  freyned,  and  sche  prayede  pitously 
To  every  Jew  that  dwelled  in  that  place, 
To  telle  hir,  if  hir  child  wente  ther  by;  i;c 

Thay  sayden  nay ;  but  Jhesu  of  his  grace 
Yaf  in  hir  thought,  withinne  a  litel  space. 
That  in  that  place  after  hir  sone  sche  cryde, 
Wher  as  he  was  cast  in  a  put  bysyde. 

0  grete  God,  that  parformedist  thin  laude 
By  mouth  of  innoeentz,  lo,  here  thy  might ! 
This  gemme  of  chastitd,  this  cmcraude. 
And  eek  of  martirdom  the  ruby  bright ! 


THE  PRIORESSES   TALE.  127 

Ther  he  with  throtc  i-con-e  lay  upright, 

He  Alma  redemptorls  gan  to  synge  leo 

So  lowde,  that  al  the  place  bigan  to  rynge. 

The  Cristen  folk,  that  thurgh  the  strete  wcnte, 
In  eomen,  for  to  wonder  upon  this  thing ; 
And  hastily  for  the  provost  thay  sente. 
He  cam  anoon,  withoute  tarying, 
And  heriede  Crist,  that  is  of  haven  Kyng, 
And  eek  his  moder,  honour  of  mankynde, 
And  after  that  the  Jewes  let  he  bynde. 

This  child  with  pitous  lamentacioun 
Up  taken  was,  syngyng  his  song  alway  ;  no 

And  with  honour  of  gret  processioun, 
Thay  caried  him  unto  the  next  abbay. 
His  modir  swownyng  by  the  beere  lay  ; 
Unnethe  mighte  the  poeple  that  was  there 
This  newe  Rachel  bringe  fro  the  beere. 

With  torment  and  with  schamful  deth  echon 
This  provost  doth  these  Jewes  for  to  sterve. 
That  of  this  moerder  wist,  and  that  anoon  ; 
He  wolde  no  such  cursednesse  observe ; 
Evel  schal  have,  that  cvyl  wol  deserve.  iso 

Therfore  with  wilde  hors  he  dede  hem  drawe. 
And  after  that  he  heng  hem  by  the  lawe. 

Upon  his  beere  ay  lith  this  innocent 
Biforn  the  chief  auter  whiles  the  masse  laste ; 
And  after  that,  thabbot  with  his  eovent 
Hath  sped  him  for  to  burie  him  ful  faste ; 
And  whan  thay  halywater  on  him  cast^. 
Yet  spak  this  child,  wlian  spreynde  was  the  water. 
And  song  0  alma  redemptorh  mater. 

This  abbot,  which  that  was  an  holy  man,        i9o 
.  As  monkes  ben,  or  elles  oughte  be. 


128  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

This  yong-o  child  to  conjure  he  bigan, 
And  sayd :   '  0  deere  child,  I  halse  the, 
In  vertu  of  the  holy  Trinite, 
Tel  me  what  is  thy  cause  for  to  synge, 
Sith  that  tliy  throte  is  kit  at  my  semynge.' 

'  My  throte  is  kit  unto  my  nekke-boon,' 
Sayde  this  child,  '  and  as  by  way  of  kynde 
I  schulde  ban  ben  deed  long  tyme  agoon ; 
But  Jhesu  Crist,  as  ye  in  bookes  fynde,  200 

Wol  that  his  glorie  laste  and  be  in  mynde ; 
And  for  the  worsehip  of  liis  moder  deere, 
Yet  may  I  synge  0  alma  lowde  and  cleere. 

'  This  welle  of  mercy,  Cristes  moder  swete, 
I  loved  alway,  as  after  my  connynge ; 
And  whan  that  I  my  Ijf  schulde  leete, 
To  me  sche  cam,  and  bad  me  for  to  synge 
This  antym  verraily  in  my  deyinge, 
As  ye  have  herd ;   and,  whan  that  I  hadcZe  songe, 
Me  thoughts  sche  layde  a  grayn  under  my  tonge. 

'  Wherfor  I  synge,  and  synge  moot  certeyne      2U 
In  honour  of  that  blisful  mayden  fre, 
Til  fro  my  tonge  taken  is  the  greyne. 
And  after  that  thus  saide  sche  to  me : 
'  My  litil  child,  now  wil  I  fecche  the. 
Whan  than  the  grayn  is  fro  thi  tonge  i-take ; 
Be  nought  agast,  I  wol  the  not  forsake.' 

This  holy  monk,  tlas  abbot  him  mene  I, 
His  tonge  out  caught,  and  took  awey  the  greyn  ; 
And  he  yaf  up  the  gost  ful  softely.  220 

And  whan  the  abbot  hath  this  wonder  seyn. 
His  salte  teres  striken  doun  as  reyn ; 
And  gruf  he  fcl  adoun  unto  the  grounde, 
And  stille  he  lay,  as  he  hadde  ben  y-bounde. 


THE   PRIORESSES   TALE.  129 

The  covent  eck  lay  on  the  pavymente 
Wepyng  and  hcrying  Cristes  moder  deere. 
And  after  that  thay  rise,  and  forth  thay  wente, 
And  took  away  this  martir  fro  his  beere. 
And  in  a  tombe  of  marble  stoones  cleere 
Enclosed^  thay  this  litil  body  sweete  ;  230 

Ther  he  is  now,  God  lane  us  for  to  meete  ! 

0  yonge  Hughe  of  Lyneoln ;  slayn  also 
With  cursed  Jewes  (as  it  is  notable. 
For  it  nys  but  a  litel  while  ago), 
Pray  eek  for  us,  we  synful  folk  unstable, 
That  of  his  mercy  God  so  merciable 
On  us  his  grete  mercy  multiplie, 
For  reverence  of  his  modir  Marie.     Amen. 


VOL.    III.  T? 


130  THE  CANTERBURY   TALES. 


PROLOGE  TO  SIRE  THOPAS. 

^HAN  sayd  was  this  miracle,  every  man 
As  sober  was,  that  wonder  was  to  se, 
Til  that  oure  Host  to  jape  bigan, 
And  than  at  erst  he  loked  upon  me, 
And  sayde  thus  :   '  What  man  art  thou  ? '  quod  he. 
'  Thou  lokcst  as  thou  woldest  fynde  an  hare, 
For  ever  upon  the  ground  I  se  the  stare. 

'  Approche  ner,  and  loke  merily. 
Now  ware  you,  sires,  and  let  this  man  have  space. 
He  in  the  wast  is  schape  as  wel  as  I ;  lo 

This  were  a  popet  in  an  arm  to  embrace 
For  any  womman,  smal  and  fair  of  face. 
He  semeth  elvisch  by  his  countenaunce,  ■ 
For  unto  no  wight  doth  he  daliaunee. 

'  Bay  now  som  what,  sins  other  folk  han  said  ; 
Telle  us  a  tale  and  that  of  mirthe  anoon.' 
'  Host,'  quod  I,  '  ne  beth  nought  evel  apayd, 
For  other  tale  certes  can  I  noon. 
But  of  a  rym  I  lernede  yore  agoon 
Ye,  that  is  good,'  quod  he,'  now  schul  we  heere 
Som  deynte  thing,  me  thinketh  by  his  cheere,'    21 


THE   TALE   OF   SIR   THOPAS.  131 


THE  TALE  OF  SIR  THOPAS. 

Mf^'^^JESTENETH,  lordyngs,  in  good  entenl, 
h\  \h%^^-i^   ^1"!  I  wol  telle  verraymcnt 
^^],        Of  myrthe  and  0/ solas, 
&'&"    Al  of  a  knjfght  was  fair  and  gent 
In  batail  and  in  tornament, 

His  name  was  Sir  Thopas. 
I-bore  he  was  in  fer  centre, 
In  Flaundres,  al  byyonde  the  so, 

At  Poperyng  in  the  place  ; 
His  fader  Avas  a  man  ful  frc,  10 

And  lord  he  was  of  that  centre, 

As  it  was  Goddes  grace. 
Sir  Thopas  wax  a  doughty  swayn  ; 
Whyt  was  his  face  as  payndemayn, 

His  lippes  reed  as  rose ; 
His  rode  is  lik  scarlet  en  grayn. 
And  I  yow  telle,  in  good  certayn 

He  had  a  semly  nose. 
His  heer,  his  herd,  was  lik  safroun. 
That  to  his  girdil  raught  adoun  ;  20 

His  schoon  of  cordewane; 
Of  Brigges  were  his  hosen  broun  ; 
His  robe  was  of  sicLadoun, 
That  coste  many  a  jane. 
He  couthe  hunt  at  wilde  deer, 
And  ride  on  haukyng  for  ryver 
With  gray  goshaidi  on  honde; 


132  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

Therto  he  was  a  good  archeer, 
Of  wrastelyng  was  noon  his  peer, 

Thor  eny  ram  schal  stonde.  30 

Ful  many  mayde  bright  in  hour 
Thay  mourne  for  him,  par  amour, 

Whan  hem  were  bet  to  slepe : 
But  he  was  chast  and  no  lecchour, 
And  sweet  as  is  the  brembre  flour 

That  bereth  the  reedc  heepe. 
And  so  it  fel  upon  a  day, 
For  soth  as  I  yow  telle  may, 

Sir  Thopas  wold  out  ryde ; 
He  worth  upon  his  steede  gray, .  40 

And  in  his  hond  a  launeegay, 

A  long  sword  by  his  syde. 
He  priketh  thurgh  a  ftiir  forest, 
Thcrin  is  many  a  wilde  best, 

Ye,  bothe  buk  and  hare  ; 
And  as  he  prikede  north  and  est, 
I  tel  it  yow,  hym  had  almest 

Bityd  a  sory  care. 
Thcr  springen  herbes  greet  and  smale, 
The  licorys  and  the  cetewale,  so 

And  many  a  clow  gilofre, 
And  notcmuge  to  put  in  ale, 
Whethir  it  be  moist  or  stale, 

Or  for  to  lay  in  cofre. 
The  briddes  synge,  it  is  no  nay, 
The  sperhauk  and  the  popinjay, 

That  joyo  it  was  to  heere  ; 
The  throstilcock  maad  cek  his  lay. 
The  woode  dowve  upon  the  spray 

Tho  song  ful  lowde  and  cleere.  60 


THE    TALE   OF   SIR   THOPAS,  133 

Sir  Thopas  fcl  in  love-longinge, 

Whan  that  he  herde  the  briddes  synge, 

And  priked  as  he  were  wood ; 
His  faire  steede  in  his  prikynge 
So  swette,  that  men  might  him  wrynge, 

His  sydes  were  al  blood. 
Sir  Thopas  eek  so  wery  was 
For  priking  on  the  solte  gras, 

So  fecrs  was  his  corrage, 
That  doun  he  layd  him  in  the  place  70 

To  make  his  steede  som  solace, 

And  yaf  him  good  forage. 
*  0,  seinte  Mary,  henedicite, 
What  eylith  this  love  at  me 

To  bynde  me  so  sore  ? 
Me  dremed  al  this  night,  pardc, 
An  elf  queen  schal  my  lemman  be, 

And  slope  imdcr  my  gore. 
An  elf  queen  wol  I  have,  i-wis, 
For  in  this  world  no  womman  is  80 

Worthy  to  be  my  make 
In  toune; 
AUe  othir  wommen  I  forsake, 
And  to  an  elf  queen  I  me  take 

By  dale  and  eek  by  doune.' 
Into  his  sadil  he  elorab  anoon, 
And  priked  over  stile  and  stoon 

An  elf  queen  for  to  spye  ; 
Til  he  so  longe  hath  ryden  and  goon, 
That  he  fond  in  a  prive  woon  90 

The  centre  of  fairve, 

So  wylde ; 
For  in  that  contrc  was  ther  noon, 


134  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

That  to  hym  durste  ride  or  goon, 

Neither  wif  ne  childe. 
Til  that  thcr  cam  a  greet  geaimt, 
His  name  was  sir  Olifaunt, 
A  perilous  man  of  dede  ; 
He  swar,  '  Child,  bv  Termagaunt, 
But-\{  thou  prikc  out  of  myn  haunt,  lOO 

Anoon  I  sloe  thy  stede, 

With  mace. 
Heer  is  the  queen  of  fayerie, 
With  harp,  and  lute,  and  symphonye, 

DwoUyng  in  this  place.' 
The  child  sayd  :  '  Also  mote  I  the, 
To  morwe  wil  I  meete  with  the. 

Whan  I  have  myn  armure. 
And  yit  I  hope,  par  ma  fay, 
That  thou  schalt  with  this  launcegay  no 

Abyen  it  ful  soure  ; 

Thy  mawe 
Schal  I  persyn,  if  that  I  may, 
Er  it  be  fully  prime  of  day, 

For  heer  schalt  thou  be  slawe/ 
Sir  Thopas  drough  on-bak  ful  faste  ; 
This  geaunt  at  him  stoones  caste 

Out  of  a  fell  staf  slynge  ; 
But  faire  cschapeth  child  Thopas, 
And  al  it  was  thurgh  Goddis  gras,  120 

And  thurgh  his  faire  berynge. 
Yet  Icstcneth,  lordynges,  to  my  tale, 
Merier  than  the  nightyngale. 

For  nowe  I  wol  yow  roune. 
How  sir  Thopas  with  sides  smale, 
Prikynge  over  hul  and  dale, 


THE   TALE   OF   SIR   THOPAS.  135 

Is  come  ageyn  to  toune. 
His  mery  men  cotnaimded  he, 
To  make  him  bothe  game  and  gle, 

For  necdes  most  he  fighte  i30 

With  a  geaunt  with  heedes  thre, 
For  paramours  and  jolite 

Of  oon  that  schon  ful  brightc, 
'  Do  come,'  he  sayde, '  my  mynstrales 
And  gestours  for  to  telle  tales 

Anoon  in  myn  armynge. 
Of  romaunces  that  ben  reales, 
Of  popes  and  of  cardinales, 

And  eek  of  love-longeinge.' 
Thay  fet  him  first  the  swete  wyn,  i40 

And  made  him  eek  in  a  maselyn 

A  real  spicerye, 
Of  gyngebred  that  was  so  fyn, 
And  lieorys,  and  eek  comyn, 

With  sugre  that  is  trye. 
He  dede  next  his  white  leere 
Of  cloth  of  lake  whyt  and  cleere 

A  brech  and  eek  a  schert ; 
And  next  his  schert  an  aketoun, 
And  over  that  an  haberjoun,  iso 

For  persyng  of  his  hert ; 
And  over  that  a  fyn  hauberk, 
Was  al  i-wrought  of  Jewes  wcrk, 

Ful  strong  it  was  of  plate  ; 
And  over  that  his  cote-armour, 
As  whyt  as  is  a  lily  flour, 

In  which  he  wolde  debate. 
His  sehcld  Avas  al  of  gold  so  red, 
And  tlierinne  was  a  bores  heed, 


13G 


THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 


A  charboclc  by  his  syde ; 
And  ther  he  swor  on  ale  and  bred 
How  that  the  geaunt  schal  be  deed, 

Bytyde  what  betyde. 
His  jambeux  were  of  quirboily, 
His  sw' erdes  schethe  of  yvory. 

His  helm  of  latoun  bright. 
His  sadel  was  of  rowel  boon, 
His  bridol  as  the  sonne  schon, 

Or  as  the  moone  light ; 
His  spere  w^as  of  fine  cipres, 
That  bodeth  werre,  and  no  thing  pees, 

The  heed  fill  scharp  i-grounde. 
His  steede  was  al  dappul  gray, 
Hit  goth  an  ambel  in  the  w^ay 
Ful  softely  and  rounde 
In  londe. 
Lo,  lordes,  heer  is  a  fyt ; 
If  ye  wil  eny  more  of  it, 

To  telle  it  wol  I  fonde. 


160 


170 


FIT  II. 


W  hold  your  mouth  for  charite,    iso 
Bothe  knight  and  lady  fre. 

And  licrkneth  to  my  spelle ; 
Of  batail  and  of  chivalry, 
Of  ladys  love  drewery, 

Anoon  I  wol  yow  telle. 
Men  speken  of  romauns  of  pris,  '"  '  ■ 


THE   TALE   OF   SIR   THOPAS.  137 

Of  Horn  eliild  and  of  Ypotis, 

Of  Bevj-s  and  sir  Gy, 
Of  sir  Libeaux,  and  Pleyndamour ; 
But  sir  Thopas  bercth  the  flour  i90 

Of  real  chivalry. 
His  goode  steede  he  bistrood, 
And  forth  upon  his  way  he  glood, 

As  sparkc/t's  out  of  the  bronde  ; 
Upon  his  crest  he  bar  a  tour, 
And  therin  stiked  a  lily  flour  : — 

God  schilde  his  corps  fro  schonde ! 
And  for  he  was  a  knyght  auntrous, 
He  nolde  slepen  in  noon  hous, 

But  liggen  in  his  hood.  200 

His  brighte  helm  was  his  wonger, 
And  by  him  baytith  his  destrer 

Of  hcrbes  fyne  and  goode. 
Him  self  drank  water  of  the  Avelle, 
As  dede  the  knight  sir  PercivcUe 

So  Avorthy  under  wede, 
Tillc  it  ims  on  a  daye, 


138  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 


PROLOGE  TO  MELIBEUS. 

^^0  mor  of  this,  for  Goddes  dignite  !' 

Quod  our  Hoste,  '  for  thou  makest  me 
So  Avcry  of  thy  vcrroy  lewcdncsse, 
That,  al-so  wisly  God  my  soule  blessc, 
Myn  eeres  aken  for  thy  drasty  spechc. 
Now  such  a  rym  the  devel  I  byteeho ' 
This  may  wcl  be  rym  dogcrcl,'  quoth  he. 
'  Why  so  ?'  quod  I,  '  why  wilt  thou  lette  mo 
More  of  my  tale  than  another  man, 
Syn  that  it  is  the  beste  rym  I  can?'  lo 

'  By  God ! '  quod  ho,  '  for  pleinly  at  o  word, 
Thy  drasty  rymyng  is  not  worth  a  tord  ; 
Thou  dost  nought  elles  but  despendist  tyme. 
Sir,  at  0  word,  thou  schalt  no  longer  ryme. 
Let  se  wher  thou  canst  tellen  ought  in  gest, 
Or  telle  in  prose  som  what  atte  lest, 
In  which  ther  be  som  merthe  or  doctrine.' 

'  Gladly,'  quod  I,  '  by  Goddes  swete  pj'ne, 
I  wol  yow  telle  a  litel  thing  in  prose, 
That  oughte  like  yow,  as  I  suppose,  20 

Or  elles  certes  ye  be  to  daungerous. 
It  is  a  moral  tale  vertuous, 
Al  be  it  told  som  tyme  in  sondry  wise 
Of  sondry  folk,  as  I  schal  yow  devyse. 
As  thus,  ye  woot  that  every  evaungelist, 
That  telleth  us  the  peyne  of  Jhesu  Crist, 
Ne  saith  nat  alle  thing  as  his  felawes  doth ; 


THE   TALE   OF   MELIBEUS.  139 

But  natheles  here  sentence  is  al  soth, 

And  alle  aecorden  as  in  here  sentence, 

Al  be  ther  in  her  tellyng  difference.  so 

For  some  of  hem  sayn  more,  and  some  lesse. 

Whan  thay  his  pitous  passioun  expresse ; — 

I  mene  of  Mark,  Mathew,  Liik  and  Johan  ; — ■ 

But  douteles  her  sentence  is  al  oon. 

Therfor,  lordynges  alle,  I  yow  biseche. 

If  yow  think  that  I  varye  as  in  my  speche. 

As  thus,  though  that  I  telle  som  Avhat  more 

Of  proverbes,  than  ye  have  herd  bifore 

Comprehended  in  this  litcl  tretys  here, 

To  enforcen  with  theffect  of  my  matiero,  40 

And  though  I  not  the  same  wordes  say 

As  ye  have  herd,  yit  to  yow  alle  I  pray, 

Blameth  me  nought ;  for,  in  my  sentence, 

Schul  ye  no  whcr  fynde  difference 

Fro  the  sentence  of  this  tretys  lite. 

After  the  which  this  litil  tale  I  write. 

And  therfor  lierlvcneth  what  I  schal  saye, 

And  let  me  tellen  al  my  tale,  I  prayc' 


THE  TALE  OF  MELIBEUS. 

YONG  man  called  Melibeus,  mighty 
and  riclie,  bygat  upon  his  wif,  that 
called  was  Prudens,  a  doughter  which 
that  called  was  Sophie.  Upon  a  day 
byfel,  that  for  his  dcsport  he  is  M'cnt  into  the 
feldes  him  to  play.     His  wif  and  his  doughter  eek 


140  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

halli  lio  laft  in-with  his  lious,  of  which  tlie  dores 
were  last  i-schitte.  Thre  of  his  olde  foos  han  it 
cspyed,  and  setten  laddres  to  the  walks  of  his 
hous,  and  by  the  wyndowcs  ben  cntred,  and  bcetyn 
his  Avyf,  and  woundid  his  doiightcr  with  fyve  mortal 
woundes,  in  fyve  sondry  places,  that  is  to  sayn,  in 
here  feet,  in  here  hondcs,  in  here  eeres,  in  here 
nose,  and  in  here  mouth ;  and  laftc  her  for  deed, 
and  went  away. 

Whan  Melibeus  retourned  was  into  his  hous, 
and  seigh  al  this  mesehief,  he,  lik  a  man  mad, 
rendyng  his  clothes,  gan  wepe  and  crie.  Prudens 
his  wyf,  as  ferforth  as  sche  dorste,  bisought  him 
of  tis  wepyng  to  stynte.  But  not  forthi  he  gan 
to  crie  ever  longer  the  more. 

This  noble  wyf  Prudence  remembred  hire 
upon  the  sentens  of  Ovido,  in  his  book  that  eleped 
is  the  Remedy  of  Love,  whcr  as  he  seith :  He  is  a 
fool  that  destourbeth  the  moder  to  wepe  in  the  deth 
of  hir  childe,  til  sche  have  i-wept  hir  fille,  as  for  a 
certeyn  tyme ;  and  than  schal  man  doon  his  dili- 
gence as  with  amyable  wordcs  hire  to  recomfortc 
and  praye  hire  of  hire  wepyng  to  stinte.  For 
which  resoun  this  noble  wif  Prudens  sufFred  hir 
housbonde  for  to  wepe  and  crie,  as  for  a  certeyn 
space ;  and  whan  sche  seigh  hir  tyme,  sche  sayd 
him  in  this  wise  :  '  Alias  !  my  lord,'  quod  schi;, 
'why  make  ye  youre  self  for  to  be  lik  a  fool? 
Forsothe  it  apperteyneth  not  to  a  wys  man,  to 
make  such  sorwe.  Your  doughtcr,  Avith  the  grace 
of  God,  schal  warischt  be  and  eschape.  And  al 
were  it  so  that  sche  right  now  were  deed,  ye  ne 
oughtc  nought  as  for  hir  deth  youre  silf  destroye. 


THE   TALE   OF   MELIBEUS.  141 

Senec  saith,  The  wise  man  schal  not  take  to  gret 
discomfort  for  tlie  deth  of  his  children,  but  ccrtes 
he  schulde  suftren  it  in  pacience,  as  wel  as  he 
abydeth  the  deth  of  his  owne  persone.' 

This  ]\IeHbcus  answerde  anoon  and  sayde:  'What 
man/  quod  he,  '  schuld  o^  his  wcpynge  styntc,  that 
hath  so  gret  a  cause  for  to  wepe  ?  Jhesu  Crist, 
cure  Lord,  him  self  wcpte  for  the  deth  of  Lazarus 
his  frend.'  Prudens  answerde  :  '  Certes,  wel  I  wot, 
attempercl  w^epyng  is  no  thing  defended  to  him 
that  sorwful  is,  amongcs  folk  in  sorwe,  but  it  is 
rather  graunted  him  to  Avepe.  The  apostel  Poule 
unto  the  Romayns  writcth,  A  man  schal  rejoyce 
with  hem  that  makcn  joye,  and  wepe  Avith  such 
folk  as  wepen.  But  though  attemperel  wepyng 
be  graunted,  outrageous  wepynge  certes  is  de- 
fended. Mesure  of  wepynge  schulde  be  conserved, 
after  the  lore  of  Crist  that  techeth  us  Senec  ; 
Whan  that  thi  frend  is  deed,  quod  ho,  let  nought 
thin  yen  to  moyste  ben  of  teres,  no  to  moche  drye  ; 
although  the  tecres  come  to  thine  eyghen,  let  hem 
not  falle.  And  whan  thou  hast  for-gon  thy  frend, 
do  diligence  to  getc  another  I'rcnde ;  and  this  is 
more  wisedom  than  to  wepe  for  thy  frond,  which 
that  thou  hast  lorn,  for  therin  is  no  bootc.  And 
therfore  if  ye  governe  yow  by  sapience,  put  away 
sorv.'e  out  of  youre  hert.  Remembrcth  yow  that 
Jhesus  Sirac  saith,  A  man  that  is  joyous  and  glad 
in  herte,  it  him  conserveth  florischinge  in  his  age ; 
but  sothly  sorweful  herte  maketh  his  boones  drye. 
He  saith  eek  thus,  that  sorwe  in  herte  sleth  ful 
many  a  man,  Salamon  saith,  that  right  as  motthes 
in  schepes  flees  annoyeth  the  clothes,  and  the  smale 


142  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

wormes  on  the  trc  unto  the  fniyte,  right  so  anno5'eth 
sorwe  to  the  hertc.  Wherfore  us  oughte  as  wel  in 
the  deth  of  oure  children,  as  in  the  losse  of  oure 
goodes  temporales,  have  pacience.  Remembreth 
yow  upon  the  pacient  Jop,  Avhan  he  haddc  lost  his 
children  and  his  temporal  substance,  and  in  his 
body  endured  and  receyved  ful  many  a  grevous 
tribulaeioun,  yit  sayde  lie  thus  :  Oure  Lord  it  sent 
unto  me,  oure  Lord  it  hath  raft  fro  me ;  right  so 
as  oure  Lord  Avil,  right  so  be  it  doon :  i-blessed 
be  the  name  of  oure  Lord ! '  To  these  forsayde 
thinges  answerith  Melibeus  unto  his  wif  Prudens  : 
'  Alle  thine  wordes  ben  soth,'  quod  he,  '  and  therto 
profytable,  but  sothly  myn  herte  is  so  troubled 
Avith  this  sorwe,  that  I  noot  what  to  doone.'  '  Let 
calle,'  quod  Prudence,  '  thy  trewe  frendes  alle,  and 
thy  linage,  whiche  that  ben  trewe  and  wise  ;  tell- 
eth  hem  youre  grevaunce,  and  herken  Avhat  thay 
say  in  eounseilynge,  and  yow  governe  after  here 
sentence.  Salomon  saith,  Werke  al  thi  thing  by 
counseil,  and  the  thar  never  re  we.' 

Than,  by  the  counseil  of  his  Avyf  Prudens,  this 
Melibeus  let  ealle  a  gret  congregacioun  of  peple, 
as  surgiens,  phisieiens,  olde,  and  yonge,  and  some 
of  his  olde  encmyes  rceounsiled  (as  by  her  sera- 
blaunt)  to  his  love  and  to  his  grace ;  and  ther- 
withal  ther  come  some  of  his  neighebours,  that 
deden  him  reverence  more  for  drede  than  for  love, 
as  happeth  ofte.  Ther  comen  also  ful  many  subtil 
flatercrs,  and  Avise  advoketes  lerned  in  the  lawe. 
And  whan  these  folk  togidere  assemblid  were,  this 
Melibeus  in  sorwful  wyse  schewed  hem  his  caas, 
and  by  the  maner  of  his  speche,  it  semede  that  in 


THE   TALE   OF   MELIBEUS.  143 

herte  he  bar  a  cruel  ire,  redy  to  do  vengeance 
upon  his  foos,  and  sodeynly  desirede  that  the 
wcrre  schulde  bygynne  ;  but  nathelcs  yit  axed  ho 
her  counscil  in  this  matier.  A  sirurgicn,  by  liccns 
and  assent  of  suche  as  were  wyse,  up  ros,  and  to 
jMelibeus  sayde,  as  ye  may  hiere. 

'  Sire,'  quod  he,  '  as  to  us  sirurgiens  apper- 
tieneth,  that  wc  do  to  every  wight  the  beste  that 
we  can,  wher  as  we  ben  withholde,  and  to  cure 
pacient  that  we  do  no  damage ;  wherfore  it  hap- 
peth  many  tyme  and  oftc,  that  -\vhan  tweye  han 
everich  wounded  other,  oo  same  surgien  heleth 
hem  bothe ;  where  unto  oure  art  it  is  not  per- 
teyned  to  norische  werre,  ne  parties  to  supporte. 
But  certes,  as  to  warisching  of  youre  doughter,  al 
be  it  so  that  sehe  perilously  be  woundid,  wo 
sehuUcn  do  so  tentyf  besynes  fro  day  to  night, 
that  with  the  grace  of  God  sche  schal  be  hool  and 
sound,  als  soone  as  it  is  possible.'  Almost  right 
in  the  same  wise  the  phisieiens  answerden,  save 
that  thay  sayden  a  fewe  wordes  more  ;  that  ryght 
as  maladies  ben  cured  by  her  contraries,  right  so 
schal  men  warissche  werre  by  vengeaunce.  His 
neygheboures  ful  of  envy,  his  feyned  freendes  that 
semede  recounsiled,  and  his  flatereres,  madcn 
semblaunt  of  wepyng,  and  appaired  and  aggreggcd 
moche  of  this  matiere,  in  preisyng  gretly  Melibe 
of  might,  of  power,  of  riches,  and  of  frcndes,  de- 
spisinge  the  power  of  his  adversaries  ;  and  sayden 
outerly,  that  he  anoon  schulde  wreke  him  on  his 
adversaries  be  bygynnynge  of  werre. 

Up  roos  thanne  an  advocate  that  was  wys,  by 
levc  and  by  counseil  of  othore  that  were  wise,  and 


144  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

saydc  :  '  Lordynges,  the  needes  for  whiche  we  ben 
assemblit  in  this  place  is  ful  hevy  thing,  and  an 
heigh  matier,  bycauso  of  the  wrong  and  of  the 
wikkcdnes  that  hath  ben  doon,  and  eek  hy  resowi 
of  the  grete  damages  that  in  tyme  comyng  ben 
possible  to  falle  for  the  same,  and  eek  bycause  of 
the  grete  richesse  and  power  of  the  partes  bothe  ; 
for  the  whiche  resouns,  it  were  a  ful  gret  peril  to 
erren  in  these  materes.  Wherfore,  Melibeus, 
this  is  oure  sentence ;  we  counseile  yow,  aboven 
alle  thinges,  that  right  anoon  thou  do  diligence 
in  kepyng  of  thy  body  in  such  a  wyse  that  thou 
ne  wante  noon  espye  ne  wacche  thy  body  for  to 
save.  And  after  that,  we  counseile  that  in  thin 
hous  thou  sette  suffisaunt  garnisoun,  so  that  thay 
may  as  wel  thy  body  as  thin  hous  defende.  But 
certes  for  to  moeve  werre,  ne  sodeynly  for  to  do 
vengeance,  we  may  not  deme  in  so  litel  tyme  that 
it  were  profitable.  Wherfore  we  axen  leysir  and 
a  space  to  have  dellheracion  in  this  caas  to  demon ; 
for  the  comunc  proverbe  saith  this ;  he  that  soone 
demeth,  soone  schal  repente.  And  eek  men  sayn, 
that  thilke  juge  is  wys,  that  soone  understondeth 
a  matier,  and  juggeth  by  leysir.  For  al  be  it  so, 
that  alle  taryinge  is  anoyful,  algates  it  is  no  reproef 
in  yevynge  of  juggcment,  ne  of  vcngaunce  takyng, 
whan  it  is  suffisaunt  and  resonable.  And  that 
schewed  oure  Lord  Jhesu  Crist  by  ensample,  for 
whan  that  the  womman  that  was  i-take  in  ad- 
voutrie,  was  brought  in  his  presence  to  knowen 
what  schulde  be  doon  of  hir  persone,  al  be  it  that 
he  wist  him  self  what  that  he  wolde  answers,  yit 
wolde  he  not  answere  sodenjly,  but  he  wolde  have 


THE   TALE   OF   MELIBEUS.  145 

deliberacioun,  and  in  the  ground  hem  wrot  twycs. 
And  by  these  causes  we  axe  deliberacioun ;  and 
we  schul  thanne  by  the  grace  of  God  counseile  the 
thing  that  schal  be  profytable.'  Upstarten  thenne 
the  yonge  folkes  anoon  at  oones,  and  the  moste 
parte  of  that  companye  han  skorned  these  olde 
wise  men,  and  bygonne  to  make  noyse  and  sayden  : 
'  Right  so  as  whil  that  iren  is  hoot  men  scholden 
smyte,  right  so  schulde  men  wreke  here  wronges, 
whil  that  they  ben  freische  and  ncwe ;'  and  with 
lowde  vois  thay  cryde,  '  Werre,  werre.' 

Uproos  tho  con  of  these  olde  wise,  and  with  his 

hond  made  countenaunce  that  men  schulde  holde 

hem  stille,  and  yiven  him  audience.      '  Lordyngs,' 

quod  he,  '  ther  is  ful  many  a  man   that  crieth 

'werre,    werre,'   that  wot   ful   litel   what   werre 

amounteth.     Werre    at   his    bygynnyng   hath  so 

greet  an  entrc  and  so  large,  that  every  wight  may 

entre  whan  him  liketh,  and  lightly  fynde  werre; 

but  certes  what  ende  schal  falle  therof,  it  is  not 

lightly  to  knowe.     For  sothly  whan  that  werre  is 

oones  bygonne,  ther  is  ful  many  a  child  unbore  of 

his   mooder    that  schal  sterve  yong,    bycause    of 

thilke  werre,  or  elles  lyve  in  sorwe  and  deye  in 

wrecchidnes ;  and  therfore,  er  that  eny  werre  be 

bygonne,  men  moste  have  gret  counsoil  and  gret 

deliberacioun.'     And  whan  this  olde  man  wende 

to  enforce  his  tale  by  resouns,  Avel  neigh  alle  at 

oones  bygonne  thay  to  rise,  for  to  breke  his  tale, 

and  beden  him  ful  ofte  his  wordes  to  abrigge.  For 

sothly  he  that  precheth  to  hem  that  liste  not  to 

heere  his  wordes,  his  sermoun  hem  anoycth.     For 

Jhesus   Sirac  saith,   that  musik  in  wepyng  is  a 

VOL.  in.  I, 


146  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

noyous  thing,  Tliis  is  to  say,  as  moehe  avayleth 
to  speke  to-fore  folk  to  whiche  his  speche  an- 
noyetli,  as  it  is  to  synge  bjdbre  hem  whiche  that 
■\vopith.  And  whan  this  wise  man  saugh  him 
wanted  audience,  al  schamefast  he  sette  him  doun 
agayn.  For  Salamon  saith,  Ther  as  thou  may  have 
noon  audience,  enforce  the  not  to  speke.  '  I  se 
wel,'  quod  this  wise  man,  '  that  the  comune  pro- 
verbe  is  soth,  that  good  counseil  wantith,  whan  it 
is  most  neede.'  Yit  hadde  this  Melibeus  in  his 
counseil  many  folk,  that  prively  in  his  eere  coun- 
seled him  the  contraric  in  general  audience. 

Whan  Melibeus  hadde  herd  that  the  grettest 
party  of  his  counseil  were  accorded  that  he  schulde 
make  werre,  anoon  he  consentede  to  here  eoun- 
seilyng,  and  fully  affermed  here  sentence.  Thanne 
dame  Prudence,  whan  that  sche  saugh  that  hir 
housbonde  schop  him  to  wreke  him  of  his  enemyes, 
and  to  gynne  werre,  sche  in  ful  humble  wise, 
whan  sche  saugh  hire  tyme,  sayde  him  these 
wordes  ;  '  My  lord,'  quod  sche,  '  I  yow  biseche  as 
hertily  as  I  dar  and  kan,  ne  haste  yow  nought  to 
faste,  and  for  alle  guerdouns  as  yeve  me  audience. 
For  Peres  Alfons  saith,  Who  that  doth  to  the 
outher  good  or  harm,  haste  the  nought  to  quj^ten 
him,  for  in  this  wise  tliy  freend  wil  abyde,  and 
thin  enemy  schal  the  lenger  lyve  in  drede.  Thc- 
proverbe  saith,  He  hastith  wel  that  wisly  car. 
abyde ;  and  in  wikked  haste  is  no  profyt.'  This 
Melibeus  answerde  unto  his  wyf  Prudens  ;  '  I  pur- 
pose not,'  quod  he,  '  to  werke  by  thy  counseil,  for 
many  causes  and  resouns  ;  for  certes  every  wight 
wolde  holde  me  thanne  a  fool ;  this  is  to  sayn,  if 


THE   TALE   OF   MELIBEUS.  147 

I  for  thy  counseil  wolde  chaunge  thinges  that 
afl'ermed  ben  by  so  many  wise.  Secoundbj,  I  say 
that  alio  wommen  be  wikked,  and  noon  good  of 
hem  alio.  For  of  a  thousand  men,  saith  Salomon, 
I  fond  con  good  man ;  but  certes  of  alle  wommen 
good  womman  fond  I  never  noon.  And  also  certes, 
if  I  governede  me  by  thy  counseil,  it  schulde  seme 
that  I  hadde  yiven  to  the  over  me  the  maistry ; 
and  God  forbeede  er  it  so  were.  For  Jhesus  Syrac 
saith,  that  if  a  wif  have  maistrie,  sche  is  con- 
trarious  to  hir  housbond.  And  Salomon  saith, 
Never  in  thy  lif  to  th}^  wyf,  ne  to  thy  child,  ne  to 
thy  freend,  ne  yeve  no  power  over  thi  self;  for 
better  it  were  that  thy  children  axen  of  thy  per- 
sone  thinges  that  been  needful  to  hem,  than  thou 
se  thi  self  in  the  hondes  of  thy  children.  And 
also,  if  I  wolde  werke  by  thy  counselynge,  certes 
it  mostc  som  tymc  be  secrc,  til  it  were  tyme  that 
it  moste  be  knowe ;  and  this  ne  may  not  be.' 

Whan  dame  Prudence,  ful  debonerly  and  with 
gret  paeience,  hadde  herd  al  that  hir  housbonde 
likcde  for  to  seye,  thanne  axede  sche  of  him  licence 
for  to  speke,  and  sayde  in  this  wise ;  '  My  lord,' 
quod  sche,  '  as  to  youre  firste  rcsoun,  certes  it  may 
lightly  be  answered ;  for  I  say  it  is  no  foly  to 
chaunge  counsel  whan  the  thing  is  chaungid,  or 
elles  whan  the  thing  semeth  otherwise  than  it  was 
biforn.  And  moreover  I  say,  though  that  ye  han 
sworn  and  i-hight  to  parforme  youre  emprise,  and 
natheles  ye  wayve  to  parforme  thilke  same  em- 
prise by  juste  cause,  men  schulde  not  saye  therfore 
that  ye  were  a  lyere,  ne  for-sworn ;  for  the  book 
seith,  that  the  wise  man  maketh  no  Icsyng,  whan 


148  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

he  torneth  his  corragc  to  the  better.  And  al  be 
it  so  that  youre  emprise  be  estabhd  and  ordeyned 
by  gret  multitude  of  people,  yet  thar  ye  not  ae- 
oomplise  thilkc  same  ordinaunce  but  you  like  ;  for 
the  trouthe  of  a  thing,  and  the  profyt,  ben  rather 
founde  in  fewe  folk  that  ben  wise  and  ful  of  resoun, 
than  by  gret  multitude  of  folk,  th^r  every  man 
crieth  and  clatereth  what  that  him  liketh  ;  sothely 
such  multitude  is  not  honest.  AncZto  the  seeounde 
resoun,  wheras  ye  sayn,  that  alle  wommen  ben 
wikke ;  save  youre  grace,  certis  ye  despise  alle 
wommen  in  this  wise,  and  he  that  alle  despysith, 
saith  the  book,  alle  despleseth.  And  Senec  saith, 
Who-so  wil  have  sapience,  schal  no  man  despraj-se, 
but  he  schal  gladly  teche  the  science  that  he  can, 
withoute  presumpcioun  or  pryde ;  and  sucho 
thinges  as  he  nought  can,  he  schal  not  ben 
aschamed  to  lerne  hem,  and  enquerc  of  lasse  folk 
than  himself.  And,  sire,  that  thcr  hath  be  ful 
many  a  good  womman  maie  lihtlj/  be  ^^rouecZ. 
Certes,  sire,  oure  Lorde  Jhesu  Crist  nolde  nevere  have 
descended  to  he  home  of  immman,  if  alle  wommen 
hadde  ben  wikke.  And  after  that,  for  the  grete 
bounte  that  is  in  wommen,  oure  Lord  Jhesu  Crist, 
whan  he  was  risen  fro  deth  to  lyve,  apperede 
rather  to  a  womman  than  to  his  apostles.  And 
though  that  Salamon  say,  he  fond  never  good 
womman,  it  folwith  nought  therfore,  that  alle 
wommen  ben  wikke ;  for  though  that  he  fonde 
noone  goode  wommen,  certes  many  another  man 
hath  founden  many  a  womman  ful  goode  and 
trewe.  Or  elles  paravcnture  thentent  of  Salamon 
was    this,    as   in    sovercyn   bounte    he    fond    no 


THE   TALE   OF   MELIBEUS.  149 

womnian ;  this  is  to  saye,  that-ther  is  no  wight 
that  hath  sovercin  bounte,  save  God  aloone,  as 
he  him-self  recordcth  in  his  Evaimgelie.  For  thcr 
iiys  no  creature  so  good,  that  him  ne  wantith 
som-what  of  the  perfeccioun  of  God  that  is  his 
makere.  Youre  thridde  resoun  is  this ;  ye  seyn 
that  if  ye  governede  yow  by  counsel  of  me,  it 
schulde  seme  that  ye  hadde  yeve  me  the  maystry 
and  the  lordsehipe  over  youre  persone.  Sire,  save 
youre  grace,  it  is  not  so ;  for  if  so  Avere  that  no 
man  schulde  be  counselled  but  by  hem  that  hadde 
maystrie  and  lordsehipe  of  his  persone,  men  wolde 
nought  be  counselled  so  ofte ;  for  sothly  thilke  man 
that  axeth  counseil  of  a  purpos,  yet  hath  he  fre 
chois  whether  he  wil  werke  by  that  purpos  or 
noon.  And  as  to  youre  ferthe  resoun,  ther  ye 
sayn  that  the  janglerie  of  wommen  can  hyde 
thinges  that  they  wot  not  of;  as  who  saith,  that  a 
Avomman  can  nought  hyde  that  /Aat  sche  woot; 
sire,  these  wordes  ben  understonde  of  wommen 
that  ben  jangelers  and  wikke ;  of  whiche  wommen 
men  sayn  that  thre  thinges  dryvcn  a  man  out  of 
his  oughne  hous  ;  that  is  to  saye,  smoke,  droppyng 
of  reyn,  and  wilvked  wyfes.  Of  suche  wommen 
saith  Salomon,  that  it  were  better  to  a  man  to 
dwelle  in  desert,  than  with  a  wommau  that  is 
riotous.  And,  sire,  by  youre  leve,  that  am  not  T  ; 
for  ye  han  ful  ofte  assayed  my  grete  silence  and 
my  grete  pacience,  and  cck  how  wcl  that  I  can 
hyde  and  hele  thinges  that  ben  secrely  to  hyde. 
And  sothly,  as  to  youre  fyfte  resoun,  whcr  as  ye 
sayn,  that  in  wikkcdc  counseil  wommen  ven- 
quisscheth  men,  God  wot  thilko  resoun  stent  here 


150  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

in  no  stcde ;  for  understondith  now,  ye  axen 
counseil  to  do  "wickidnes ;  and  if  ye  wile  wirke 
wickidnes,  and  youre  wyf  restreyne  thilke  wicked 
purpos,  and  overcome  j'ou  by  resoun  and  by  good 
counseil,  certes  youre  wyf  oAs^eth  rather  be  preised 
than  y-blamcd.  Thus  sehulde  ye  understonde  the 
philosopher  that  seith,  In  wicked  counseil  wommen 
vcnquyschen  her  housbondes.  And  ther  as  ye 
blame  alio  wymmen  and  here  resouns,  I  schal 
sehewe  by  many  resouns  and  ensamples  that  many 
a  womman  hath  ben  ful  good,  and  yit  been,  and 
here  counseiles  ful  holsome  and  profitable.  Eke 
some  men  had  sayd,  that  the  counseilyng  of 
wommen  is  outher  to  dere,  or  to  litel  of  pris.  But 
al  be  it  so  that  ful  many  a  womman  is  badde,  and 
hir  counseil  vile  and  not  worth,  yet  han  men 
founde  many  a  ful  good  womman,  and  ful  diseret 
and  wys  in  counseilyng,  Lo,  Jacob,  by  counseil  of 
his  moder  Rebecca,  Avan  the  blessyng  of  his  fader 
Ysaak,  and  the  lordschipe  of  alle  his  bretheren. 
Judith,  b}-  hire  goode  counseil,  dclyveredc  the  citee 
of  Bethulie,  in  Avhich  sche  dwellide,  out  of  the 
lionde  of  Olophernus,  that  hadrfe  it  byseged,  and 
wolde  it  al  destroye.  Abigayl  deliverede  Nabal 
hir  housbond  fro  David  the  king,  that  wolde  have 
i-slayn  him,  and  appescdc  the  ire  of  the  kyng  by 
hir  witte,  and  by  hir  good  counseilynge.  Hester 
by  good  counseil  enhaunsede  gretly  the  poeple  of 
God,  in  the  regno  of  Assuerus  the  kyng.  And  the 
same  bounte  in  good  counseilyng  of  many  a  good 
womman  maye  men  rede  and  telle.  And  more- 
over, whan  oure  Lord  hadcZe  creat  Adam  oure  forme 
fader,  he  sayde  in  this  wise :  Hit  is  not  goode  to 


THE   TALE   OF   MELIBEUS.  151 

be  a  man  aloone ;  make  we  to  him  an  help 
semblable  to  him-self.  Here  may  yo  se  that  if 
that  a  wommau  wei'e  not  good,  and  hir  counseil 
good  and  profytable,  oure  Lord  God  of  heven 
wolde  neither  have  wronght  hem,  ne  called  hem 
help  of  man,  but  rather  confusioun  of  man.  And 
ther  sayde  oones  a  clerk  in  tuo  versus,  What  is 
better  than  gold?  Jasper.  And  what  is  better 
than  jasper?  Wisedom.  And  what  is  better  than 
wisedom?  Womman.  And  what  is  better  than 
a  good  womman  ?  No  thing.  And,  sire,  by  many 
other  resouns  maj'e  ye  se,  and  many  wommen  ben 
goode,  and  elce  here  counsdle  goode  and  profitable. 
And  therfore,  if  ye  wile  truste  to  my  counseil,  I 
schal  restore  you  youre  doughter  hool  and  sound  ; 
and  cek  I  wil  doon  you  so  moche,  that  ye  schul 
have  honour  in  this  cause.' 

Whan  Melibe  had  herd  these  Avordes  of  his  wif 
Prudens,  he  seido  thus :  '  I  se  wcl  that  the  word 
of  Salomon  is  soth ;  he  seith,  that  the  wordes  that 
ben  spoken  discretly  by  ordinaunce  been  hony- 
combes  for  thay  yeven  swetnes  to  the  soule,  and 
holesomenesse  to  the  body.  And,  wyf,  bycause  of 
thy  swete  wordes,  and  eek  for  I  have  assayed  and 
proved  thi  grete  sapiens  and  thi  grete  trouthe,  I 
wil  governe  me  by  thy  counseil  in  alle  thinges.' 

'  Now,  sire,'  quod  dame  Prudens,  •■  and  syn  ye 
vouchen  sauf  to  be  governed  by  my  counseilyng,  I 
wil  cnformo  you  how  ye  schul  governe  youre-self, 
in  chesyng  of  youre  counseil.  Ye  schul  first  in 
alle  youre  werkcs  mekely  biscchc  to  the  hihe  God, 
that  he  wol  be  your  counseilour  ;  and  schapo  you 
to  that  entent  that  he  yive  you  counseil  and  con- 


152  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

fort,  as  taughte  Toby  his  sone.  At  alle  tymes 
thou  schalt  blesse  God,  and  pray  him  to  dresse 
thy  wayes ;  and  loke  that  alle  thi  counseiles  be 
in  him  for  evermore.  Seint  Jame  eek  saith:  If 
eny  of  yow  have  neede  of  sapiens,  axe  it  of  God. 
And  aftirward,  thanne  schul  ye  take  counsel  1  in 
youreself,  and  examine  wel  your  thoughtes,  of 
suche  thinges  as  you  thinkith  that  is  best  for 
youre  profyt.  And  thanne  schul  ye  dryve  fro 
youre  herte  tho  tJire  thinges  that  ben  contrarie  to 
good  counseil;  that  is  to  say,  ire,  coveytise,  and 
hastynes.  First,  he  that  axeth  counseil  of  him- 
self, certes,  he  moste  be  withoute  ire,  for  many 
cause.  The  first  is  this :  he  that  hath  gret  ire 
and  wraththe  in  him-sclf,  he  Aveneth  alwey  he 
may  do  thing  that  he  may  not  doo.  And  secoundly, 
.he  that  is  irous  and  wroth,  he  may  not  wel  dome ; 
and  he  that  may  not  Avel  deme,  may  nought  wel 
counseile.  The  thridde  is  this :  that  he  that  is 
irous  and  wroth,  as  saith  Senec,  may  not  speke 
but  blameful  thinges>,  and  with  his  vicious  wordes 
he  stircth  other  folk  to  anger  and  to  ire.  And 
eek,  sire,  ye  moste  dryve  coveitise  out  of  youre 
hcrte.  For  thapostle  saith  that  coveytise  is  roote 
of  alle  harmes.  And  trusteth  wel,  that  a  coveit- 
ous  man  ne  can  not  deme  ne  thinke,  but  oonly 
to  fulfille  the  ende  of  his  coveitise;  and  certes  that 
may  never  ben  accomplised ;  for  ever  the  more 
abundaunco  that  he  hath  of  riches,  the  more  he 
desireth.  And,  sii'e,  ye  moste  also  dryve  out  of 
your  herte  hastynes ;  for  certes  ye  maye  nought 
deme  for  the  beste  a  sodein  thought  that  falleth 
in  youre  herte,  but  ye  moste  avysc  you  on  it  ful 


THE   TALE   OF   MELIBEUS.  153 

ofte.  For  as  5-0  herde  here  biforn,  the  comunc 
proverbe  is  this  ;  that  he  that  soone  clemeth,  soono 
repentith.  Sire,  ye  ben  not  alway  in  lik  disposi- 
cioun,  for  certis  som  thing  that  som  tyme  semeth 
to  yow  that  it  is  good  for  to  doo,  another  tymo  it 
semeth  to  you  the  contrarie.  Whan  ye  han  taken 
counseil  in  youre-selven,  and  han  demed  by  good 
deliberacioiin  such  thing  as  yow  semeth  best, 
thannc  rede  I  you  that  ye  kepe  it  secre.  Bywreyo 
nought  youre  counseil  to  no  persone,  but  it  so  be 
that  ye  wenc  sicurly,  that  thurgh  youre  bywrey- 
inge  youre  condicioun  schal  be  to  yow  the  more 
profytable.  For  Jhesus  Syrac  saith,  Neither  to 
thi  foo  ne  to  thi  freend  discovcre  not  thy  secre  no 
thy  foly ;  for  they  wile  yive  you  audience  and 
lokyng  and  supportacioun  in  thi  presence,  and 
scorn  in  thin  absence.  Another  clerk  saith,  that 
skarsly  schalt  thou  fynde  eny  persone  that  may 
kepe  counseil  secreely.  The  book  saith  :  AMiil 
thou  kepist  thi  counsail  in  thin  herte,  thou  kepest 
it  in  thi  prisoun  ;  and  whan  thou  bywreyest  thi 
counseil  to  any  wight,  he  holdeth  the  in  his  snare. 
And  therfore  yow  is  better  hyde  youre  counseil  in 
youre  herte,  than  prayen  him  to  whom  yc  have 
bywreyed  youre  counseil,  that  he  wol  kepe  it  clos 
and  stille.  For  Seneca  seith  :  If  so  be  that  thou 
ne  maist  not  thin  owne  counseil  hydc,  how  darst 
thou  proycn  any  other  wight  thi  counseil  secreely 
to  kepe  ?  But  natheles,  if  thou  wene  securly  that 
thy  bywrcying  of  thy  counseil  to  a  persone  wol 
make  thy  condicioun  stonde  in  the  better  plite, 
thanne  schalt  thou  telle  him  thy  counseil  in  this 
wise.     First,  thou  shalt  make  no  semblaunt  wher 


154  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

the  were  lever  werre  or  pees,  or  this  or  that ;  ne 
schewe  hini  not  thi  wille  and  thin  entent;  for 
truste  wel  that  comunly  these  counseilours  ben 
flaterers,  namely  the  counselours  of  grete  lordes, 
for  thay  enforcen  hem  ahvaj'  rather  to  speke  ple- 
saunt  wordes  enclynyng  to  the  lordes  lust,  than 
wordes  that  been  trcwe  and  profytable.  And 
therfore  men  saye,  that  the  riche  man  hath  selden 
good  counseil,  but-if  he  have  it  of  him-self.  And 
after  that  thou  schalt  considere  thy  frendes  and 
thy  enemyes.  And  as  touching  thy  frendes,  thou 
schalt  considere  which  of  hem  both  most  faithful 
and  most  wise,  and  eldest  and  most  approvyd  in 
counsaylinge  ;  and  of  hem  schalt  thou  axe  thy 
counsail,  as  the  caas  requireth. 

'  I  say,  that  first  ye  schul  clepe  to  j'our  counseil 
youre  frendes  that  ben  trewe.  For  Salomon  saith, 
ihat  right  as  the  hert  of  a  man  delitith  in  savour 
that  is  soote,  right  so  the  counseil  of  trewe  frendes 
yeveth  swetnes  to  the  soule.  He  saith  also,  ther 
may  no  thing  be  likened  to  the  trewe  freend ;  for 
certes  gold  ne  silver  beth  nought  so  mochc  worth 
as  the  goode  Avil  of  a  trewe  freend.  And  eek  he 
sayde,  that  a  trewe  frend  is  a  strong  defens;  who 
that  it  fyndeth,  certes  he  fyndeth  a  gret  tresour. 
Thanne  schul  ye  eek  considere  if  that  youre  trewe 
frendes  ben  discrete  and  wyse  ;  for  the  book  saith, 
Axe  thi  counseil  alwey  of  hem  that  ben  "wysc. 
And  by  this  same  resoun  schul  yc  clepe  to  youre 
counseil  of  youre  frendes  that  ben  of  age,  such  as 
have  i-seye  sightcs  and  ben  expert  in  many 
thinges,  and  ben  approvyd  in  counsejdinges.  For 
the  book  saith,  that  in  olde  men  is  the  sapience. 


THE   TALE   OF   MELIBEUS.  155 

and  in  longe  tyme  the  prudence.      And  Tullius 
saith,  that  grete  thinges  ben  not  ay  accompliced 
by  strengthe,  ne  by  delyverncs  of  body,  but  by 
good  counscil,  by  auetorite  of  persones,  and  by 
science;  the  whiche  thre  thinges  ne  been  not  feblc 
by  age,  but  certis  thay  enforcen  and  encresen  day 
by  day.     And  thanne   schid   ye  kepe  this  for  -a 
general  rcule.     First   sehu-1   ye    clepe    to   youre 
counseil  a  fewe  of  youre  frendes  that  ben  especial. 
For  Salomon  saith,  Many  frendes  have  thou,  but 
among  a  thousand  chese  the  oon  to  be  thy  coun- 
seilour.     For  al  bo  it  so,  that  thou  first  no  telle 
thy  counseil  but  to  a  fewo,  thou  mayst  afterward 
telle  it  to  mo  folk,  if  it  be  neede.    But  loke  alwey 
that  thy  counseilours  have  thilke  thre  condiciouns 
that  I  have  sayd  bifore ;  that  is  to  saye,  that  thay 
ben  trewe,  and  olde,  and  of  wys  cxperiens.     And 
werke  nought  alwey  in  every  need  by  oon  eoun- 
seilour  alloone ;   for  som    tyme  byhoveth  it   be 
counselled  by  many.     For  Salomon  saith,  Salva- 
cioun  of  thinges    is  wher  as   there  beth  many 
counsellors. 

'  Now  sith  that  I  have  told  yow  of  which  folk 
ye  schul  be  counselled,  now  wille  I  telle  yow 
which  counseil  ye  ought  cschiewe.  First,  ye  schal 
cschieive  the  counscil  of  foolcs ;  for  Salomon  seith, 
Take  no  counseil  of  a  fool,  for  he  ne  can  not  coun- 
seile  but  after  his  oughne  lust  and  his  affeecioun. 
The  book  seith,  that  the  proprcte  of  a  fool  is  this  : 
he  troweth  lightly  harm  of  every  wight,  and  lightly 
troweth  alle  bounte  in  him-self.  Thow  schalt 
cschiewe  eek  the  counseil  of  alle  flaterers,  suche 
as  enforcen  hem  rathcre  to  prayse  youre  persone 


15G  THE   CANTERBTJRY   TALES. 

by  flatcric,  than  for  to  telle  yow  the  sothfastnesse 
of  thinges.    Wherfore  Tullius  saith,  Amonges  alle 
pestilences  that  ben  in  frendschipc  the  grettest  is 
tlaterie.     And  therfore  is  it  more  neede  that  thou 
cschicwe  and  drcdc  flatcrcrs,  more  than  cny  other 
peplc.     The  book  saitli,  Thou  schalt  rather  drede 
and  flee  fro  the  swete  wordes  of  flaterers,  then  fro 
the  egre  wordes  of  thy  trend  that  saith  the  thi 
sothes.     Salamon    saith,    that    the    wordes    of  a 
flatercr  is  a  snare   to  cacche  in  innocentz.     He 
saith  also,  He  that  speketh  to  his  frend  wordes  of 
swetnesse  and  of  plesaunce,  setteth  a  nette  byfore 
his    feet    to    cacchen    him.     And    therfore   saith 
Tullius,  Enclinc  not  thin  eeros  to  flaterers,  ne  tak 
no  counseil  of  the  wordes  of  flaterers.    And  Catoun 
saith,   Avyse    the  wel,  and   eschiewe  wordes   of 
swetnes  and  of  plesaunce.     And  eek  thou  schalt 
eschicAvc  the  counselyng  of  thin  olde  enemyes  that 
bon  recounsiled.     The  book  saith,  that  no  wight 
retorneth  safly  into  the  grace  of  his  olde  enem5^es. 
And  Ysope  saith,  Ne  trust  not  to  hem,  with  which 
thou  hast  had  som  tymc  werre  or  enmyte,  ne  telle 
not  hem  thy  counseil.     And   Seneca  telleth  the 
cause  why ;   it  may  not  be,  saith  he,  that  wher  as 
a  greet  fuyr  hath  longe  tyme  endured,  that  there 
ne  levcth  som  vapour  of  bote.    And  therfore  saith 
Salomon,  In  thin  olde  enemy  trustc  thou  nevere. 
For  sicurl}',  though  thin  enemy  be  reconsiled,  and 
make  the  cheer  of  humilite,  and  lowtcth  to  the 
his  heed,  ne  trist  him  never;  for  certes  he  makith 
thilke  feyned  humilite  more  for  his  profyt,  than 
for  eny  love  of  thi  persone  ;  bycausc  he  demyth  to 
have  victorie  over   thi  persone   by  such  feyned 


THE  TALE   OF  MELIBEUS.  157 

eountynaunce,  the  whiche  victorie  he  mighte 
nought  have  by  stryf  and  werre.  And  Pctir 
Alfons  saith  :  Make  no  felaschipe  with  thine  olde 
enemyes,  for  if  thou  do  hem  bounte,  they  wile 
perverten  it  into  wikkednes.  And  eek  thou  most 
eschiewe  the  eounseilynge  of  hem  that  ben  thy 
servauntz,  and  beren  the  gret  reverence ;  for  par- 
aventure  thai  say  it  more  for  drede  than  for  love. 
And  therfore  saith  a  philosophre  in  this  wise : 
Thcr  is  no  wight  parfytly  trewe  to  him  that  he  to 
sore  dredeth.  And  TuUius  saith,  Ther  is  no 
might  so  gret  of  eny  emperour  that  longe  may 
endure,  but-if  he  have  more  love  of  the  peple  than 
drede.  Thow  scJialt  also  eschiewe  the  counseil  of 
folk  that  ben  dronkelewe,  for  thay  ne  can  no 
counseil  hyde.  For  Salomon  saith,  Ther  rcgneth 
no  privete  ther  as  is  dronkenesse.  Ye  schul  also 
have  in  suspect  the  counseil  of  such  folk  as  coun- 
seileth  j-ou  oon  thing  prively,  and  counseile  yow 
the  contrarie  openly.  For  Cassiodoric  saith,  It  is 
a  maner  sleighte  to  hindre,  whan  he  schcwith  to 
doon  oon  thing  openly,  and  werkith  prively  the 
contrarie.  Thou  schalt  also  eschiewe  the  counseil 
of  wikked  folkes ;  for  the  book  saith,  The  coun- 
selyng  of  wikked  folk  is  alway  ful  of  fraudc.  And 
David  saith,  Blisful  is  that  man  tliat  hath  not  fol- 
wed  the  counseilyng  of  wikked  men  or  schrewes. 
Thow  schalt  also  eschiewe  the  eounseilynge  of 
yonge  folk,  for  here  counseil  is  nought  rype. 

'  Now,  sire,  syn  I  have  schewed  yow  of  what 
folk  ye  schul  take  youre  counsai-1,  and  of  whiche 
folk  ye  schuUen  eschiewe  the  counseil,  now  schal  I 
teche  yow  how  ye  schul  examyne  youre  counseil 


158  THE   CANTEREUHT   TALES. 

after  the  doctrine  of.Tullius.  In  the  examynyng 
of  j-oure  coiinseiloures,  ye  schul  considre  many 
thinges.  Althirfirst  ye  schul  considre  that  in 
thilke  thing  that  thou  proposist,  and  up  what 
thing  thou  wilt  have  counseil,  that  verray  trouthe 
be  sayd  and  considerid ;  this  is  to  sayn,  telle 
trewely  thy  talc,  For  he  that  saith  fals,  may  not 
wel  be  counseled  in  that  cas  of  which  ho  lyeth. 
And  after  this,  thou  schalt  considere  the  thinges 
that  aecorden  to  that  purpos  for  to  do  by  thy 
counseil,  if  resoun  accorde  therto,  and  eke  if  thy 
might  may  accorde  therto,  and  if  the  more  part 
and  the  better  part  of  thy  counscilours  accorde 
therto  or  noon.  Thanne  schalt  thou  considere  what 
thing  schal  folwe  of  that  consailynge ;  as  hate, 
pees,  werre,  grace,  profyt,  or  damage,  and  many 
other  thinges  ;  and  in  alle  these  thinges  thou  schalt 
ehcsc  the  beste,  and  wcyve  alle  other  thinges, 
Thanne  schalt  thou  considre  of  what  roote  en- 
gendered is  the  matier  of  thy  counseil,  and  what 
fruyt  it  may  conceive  and  engendre.  Thow  schalt 
also  consider  al  these  causes,  from  whens  thai  ben 
sprongen.  And  whan  ye  have  examined  youre 
counseil,  as  I  have  said,  and  which  party  is  the 
better  and  more  profitable,  and  han  approved  by 
many  wise  folk  and  oldc,  than  schalt  thow  consi- 
dre, if  thou  maist  parforme  it  and  make  of  it  a 
good  ende.  For  resoun  wol  nouglit  that  any  man 
schulde  b3'gynne  a  thing,  but-if  he  mighte  parforme 
it  and  make  therof  a  good  ende ;  ne  no  wight 
schulde  take  upon  him  so  hevy  a  charge,  that  he 
mighte  not  here  it.  For  the  proverbe  saith,  He 
that    moche    embrasith   destveyneih  litel.      And 


THE   TALE   OF   MELIBEUS.  159 

Catoun  seith,  Assay  to  do  such  thing  as  thou  hast 
power  to  doon,  lest  that  thy  charge  oppresse  the 
so  sore,  that  the  bihove  to  wayve  thing  that  thou 
hast  bygonne.  And  if  so  be  that  thou  be  in  doute, 
wher  thou  maist  parforme  a  thing  or  noon,  chese 
rather  to  sufFre  than  bygynne.  And  Petre  Alfons 
saith,  If  thou  hast  might  to  doon  a  thing,  of  which 
thou  most  repente,  it  is  better  nay  than  yec ;  this 
is  to  sayn,  that  the  is  better  holde  thy  tonge  stillc 
than  to  speke.  Than  maye  ye  understonde  by 
stronger  resouns,  that  if  thou  hast  power  to  par- 
forme  a  werk,  of  which  thou  schalt  repente,  thanne 
is  it  better  that  thou  suifre  than  bigynnc.  Wol 
seyn  thay  that  defenden  eyer}^  wight  to  assaie 
thing  of  which  he  is  in  doute,  whethir  he  may 
parforme  it  or  noon.  And  after  whan  ye  han  ex- 
amyned  youre  counseil,  as  I  have  sayd  biforn,  and 
knowen  wel  ye  may  parforme  youre  emprise,  con- 
ferme  it  thanne  sadly  til  it  be  at  an  onde. 

'  Now  is  it  tyme  and  resoun  that  I  sehewc  yow 
whanne,  and  wherfore,  that  ye  maye  chaunge  youre 
counseil  withouten  reproef.  Sothly,  a  man  may 
chaunge  his  purpos  and  his  counseil,  if  the  cause 
cesseth,  or  whan  a  newe  cause  bytydeth.  For  the 
lawe  seith,  upon  thinges  that  newely  bitydeth, 
bihoveth  newe  counseil.  And  Seneca  seith.  If  thy 
counseil  be  comen  to  tlie  eeres  of  thin  enemy, 
chaunge  thy  counsail.  Thow  maist  also  chaunge 
thy  counseil,  if  so  be  that  thou  fynde  that  by  errour, 
or  by  other  processe,  harm  or  damage  may  bytyde. 
Also  thou  chaunge  thy  counseil,  if  thai  it  be  dishonest, 
or  elles  cometh  of  dishoncste  ;  for  the  lawes  sayn, 
that  allc  the  hestes  that  ben  dishoneste  ben  of  no 


160  THE   CANTERBURr   TALES. 

valieu ;  and  cek,  if  it  so  be  that  it  be  impossible, 
or  may  not  goodly  be  parformed  or  kept.  And 
take  this  for  a  general  reule,  that  every  counseil 
that  is  affermed  or  strengthcd  so  strongly  that  it 
may  not  be  chaunged  for  no  condicioun  that 
may  bitide,  I  say  that  thilke  counseil  is  Avildced.' 

This  Melibeus,  whan  he  had  herd  the  doctrine 
of  his  wyf  dame  Prudens,  answerdc  in  this  wise. 
'  Dame,'  quod  he,  '  yit  as  into  this  tyme  ye  han 
wel  and  eovenably  taught  me,  as  in  general,  how 
I  schal  governe  me  in  the  chesynge  and  in  the 
withholdyngo  of  my  counseiloures ;  but  now  wold 
I  fayn  ye  Avolde  condescende  as  in  especial,  and 
telleth  me  Avhat  semeth  or  how  liketh  yow  by 
cure  counseiloures  that  we  han  chosen  in  oure 
present  neede.' 

'  My  Lord,'  quod  sche,  '  I  byseke  yow  in  al 
humblesce,  that  ye  wile  not  wilfully  repplye  against 
my  resouns,  ne  distempre  youre  herte,  though  I  say 
or  speke  tiling  that  yow  displesith ;  for  God  woot 
that,  as  in  myn  cntent,  I  speke  it  for  youre  beste, 
for  youre  honour,  and  for  your  profyt  eek,  and 
sothly  I  hope  that  your  benignite  wol  take  it  into 
paeienee.  For  trusteth  me  wel,'  quod  sche,  '  that 
youre  counseil  as  in  this  caas  ne  schulde  not  (as 
for  to  speke  propurly)  be  called  a  counseilyng,  but 
a  mocioun  or  a  moevynge  of  foly,  in  which  counseil 
ye  han  erred  in  many  a  sondry  wise.  First  and 
forward,  ye  han  erred  in  the  gadcrj'ng  of  j-oure 
counscilours  ;  for  ye  schulde  first  han  cleped  a  fewe 
folkes,  if  it  haddc  be  neede.  But  certes  ye  han 
sodeinly  cleped  to  your  counseil  a  gret  multitude 
of  people,  ful  chargeous  and  ful  anoyous  for  to 


THE   TALE   OF   MELIBEUS,  IGl 

hiere.  Also  ye  han  erred,  for  ther  as  ye  schulde 
oonly  have  clepid  to  youre  counseil  youre  trewe 
frendes,  olde  and  wise,  ye  have  i-cleped  straunge 
folk,  yonge  folk,  false  flatereres,  and  enemycs 
reconsiled,  and  folk  that  doon  yow  reverence  with- 
oute  love.  Eke  also  ye  han  erred,  for  ye  han 
brought  -with  yow  to  youre  counseil  ire,  coveitise, 
and  hastynes,  the  whiche  thre  thinges  ben  con- 
trarious  to  every  counsail  honest  and  profitable ; 
the  whiche  thre  thinges  ye  have  nought  annen- 
tissched  or  destroyed,  neyther  in  youre  self  ne  in 
youre  counseiloures,  as  ye  oughte.  Also  ye  have 
erred,  for  ye  have  schewed  to  youre  counseilours 
youre  talent  and  youre  affeccioun  to  make  werre, 
and  for  to  doon  vengcaunce  anoon,  and  thay  han 
espyed  by  youre  wordes  to  what  thinge  ye  ben 
enclined ;  and  thcrfore  have  thay  counselled  yow 
rather  to  youre  talent  than  to  youre  profyt.  Ye 
have  erred  also,  for  it  semeth  that  yow  sufRceth 
to  have  been  counselled  by  these  counseilours 
only,  and  with  litel  avys,  wher-as  in  so  gret  and 
so  heigh  a  needc,  it  hadde  be  necessarious  mo 
counseilours  and  more  deliberacioun  to  parforme 
youre  emprise.  Ye  have  erred  also,  for  ye  have 
maked  no  divisioun  bytwixe  youre  counsailours  ; 
this  is  to  seyn,  bitwix  youre  frendes  and  youre 
feyned  counseilours;  ne  ye  ne  have  nought  i-knowe 
the  wille  of  youre  frendes,  olde  and  wise,  but  ye 
have  cast  alle  here  wordes  in  an  hochcpoche,  and 
enclyned  youre  herto  to  the  more  part  and  to  the 
gretter  nombre,  and  there  be  ye  condescendid ; 
and  syn  ye  wot  wel  men  schal  alway  fyndo  a 
gretter  nombre  of  fooles  than  of  wyse  men,  and 

VOL.  III.  M 


1G2  THE   CAISTERBURY   TALES. 

therfore  the  eounsailes  that  ben  at  eongregaciouns 
and  multitudes  of  folk,  ther  as  men  taken  more 
reward  to  the  nombre  than  to  the  sapience  of  per- 
sones,  ye  se  wel  that  in  suche  counscilynges  fooles 
have  maystrie.' 

Melibeus  answerde  agayn  and  sayde:  '  I  graunte 
wel  that  I  have  erred ;  but  there  as  thou  hast  told 
me  to-forn,  that  he  is  nought  to  blame  that 
chaungeth  his  counseilours  in  certeyn  caas,  and 
for  certeyn  juste  causes,  I  am  al  redy  to  chaunge 
my  counseilours  right  as  thou  wilt  devyse.  The 
proverbe  saith,  that  for  to  do  synne  is  mannysch, 
but  certes  for  to  presevere  longe  in  synne  is  werk 
of  the  de^*}'!.' 

To  this  sentence  anoon  answerde  dame  Prudens, 
and  saide  :  '  Examineth,'  quod  sche,  '  youre  coun- 
sail,  and  let  us  se  which  of  hem  hath  spoke  most 
resonably,  and  taught  you  best  counsail.  And 
for  as  m.oche  as  the  examinacioun  is  necessarie, 
let  us  byginne  at  the  surgiens  and  at  the  phisi- 
ciens,  that  first  speken  in  this  matiere.  I  say  you 
that  the  surgiens  and  the  phisiciens  han  sayd  yow 
in  youre  counseil  discretly,  as  hem  ought ;  and  in 
here  speche  sayden  ful  wisely,  that  to  the  office  of 
hem  appendith  to  doon  to  every  wight  honour  and 
profyt,  and  no  wight  to  annoy,  and  after  here  craft 
to  do  grot  diligence  imto  the  cure  of  hem  which 
that  thay  have  in  here  governaunce.  And,  sire, 
right  as  thay  answerde  wisely  and  discretly,  right 
so  rede  I  that  thay  be  heighly  and  soveraignly 
guerdoned  for  here  noble  speche,  and  eek  for  they 
schuUen  do  the  more  ententyf  besynes  in  tlie 
cur}-ng  of  youre  doughter  dere.      For  al  be  it  so 


THE   TALE   OF   MELIBEUS.  163 

that    thai    he   youre   frendes,   therfore  sehul   yo 
nought   suffro    that    thay   schiil    serve    yow    for 
nought,  but  ye  oughte  the  rathere  to  guerdouno 
hem  and  schcwe  hem  youro  largesse.      And  as 
touehynge  the  proposiciouns  whiche  the  phisiciens 
han  schewed  you  in  this  caas,  this  is  to  sayn,  that 
in  maladycs  oon  contrarie  is  warisshed  by  another 
contrarie,  I  wolde  fayn  knowe  thilke  text  and  how 
thay  understondo  it,  and  what  is  youre  entente.' 
'Certes,'  quod   Melibeus,  '  understondcn  it  is  in 
this  wise ;  that  riglit  as  thay  han  do  me  a  con- 
trarie, right  so  schold  I  do  hem  another ;  for  right 
as  thay  han   venged  hem   on   me  and  doon   me 
wrong,  right  so  schal  I  venge  me  upon  hem,  and 
doon  hem  wrong;  and  thanne  have  I  cured  oon 
contrarie  by  another.'     '  Lo,  lo/  quod  dame  Pru- 
dence, '  how  lightly  is  every  man  enclyned  to  his 
oughne  plesaunce  and  to  his  oughne  desir  !  Certes,' 
quod  sche,  '  the  wordes  of  the  phisiciens  ne  sehnlde 
nought  have  ben  understonde  sone  in  that  wise ; 
for  certes  wikkednesse  is  no  contrarie  to  wicked- 
nesse,  ne  vengauns  to  vengeaunce,  ne  wrong  to 
wrong,  but  thai  ben   semblable  ;  and  therfore  on 
vengeaimce  is  nought  warisshed  by  another  ven- 
geaunce,  ne  oon  wrong  by  another  wrong,  but 
everych  of  hem  encreseth  and  engreggith  other. 
But  certes  the  wordes  of  the  phisiciens  schul  ben 
understonde  in  this  wise  ;  for  good  and  wikkednesse 
ben  tuo  contraries,  and  pecs  and  werre,  vengeaunce 
and  sufferaunce,  discord  and  accord,  and  many 
other    thinges;    but,  certes,  wikkcdncs   schal  be 
warrisshed  by  goodnesse,  discord  by  accord,  werre 
by  pees,  and  so  forth  of  other  thinges.     And  herto 


164  THE   CANTERBURY    TALES. 

aecordith  seint  Paul  the  apostil  in  many  places ; 
he  saith,  Ne  yeldith  nought  harm  for  harm,  ne 
Avikkcd  spechc  for  wikked  speche ;  but  do  wel  to 
him  that  dotli  the  harm,  and  blessc  him  that  seith 
the  harme.  And  in  many  other  places  he  amon- 
esteth  pees  and  accord.  But  now  wil  I  speke  to 
yow  of  the  counseil,  which  was  yive  to  yow  by  the 
men  of  lawe,  and  the  wise  folk,  and  the  oleic  folke, 
that  sayde  alle  by  oon  accord  as  ye  have  herd  by- 
fore,  that  over  alle  thinges  ye  schal  do  youre  dili- 
gence to  kcpe  youre  persone,  and  to  warnistore 
youre  house ;  and  scyden  also,  that  in  this  yow 
aughte  for  to  wirche  ful  avysily  and  with  gret 
deliberacioun.  And,  sire,  as  to  the  firste  poynt, 
that  touchede  to  the  kepinge  of  youre  persone,  ye 
schul  understonde,  that  he  that  hath  werro,  schal 
evermore  devoutly  and  mekely  prayen  biforn  alle 
thinges,  that  Jhesu  Crist  wil  of  his  mercy  have 
him  in  his  proteecioun,  and  ben  his  soverayn 
helpyng  at  his  ncede ;  for  certcs  in  this  world 
ther  nys  no  wight  that  may  be  counsciled  or  kept 
sufficauntly,  withoute  the  kepinge  of  oure  lord 
Jhesu  Crist.  To  this  sentence  accordeth  the  pro- 
phete  David,  that  seith :  If  God  ne  kepe  not  the 
citee,  in  jdel  wakith  he  that  kepith  hit.  Now, 
sire,  thanne  schul  ye  committe  the  keping  of 
youre  persone  to  youre  treAve  frendes,  that  ben 
approved  and  y-knowe,  and  of  hem  schul  ye  axen 
help,  youre  persone  to  kepe.  For  Catoun  saith  : 
If  thou  have  neede  of  help,  axe  it  of  thy  freendes, 
for  ther  is  noon  so  good  a  phisicien  at  neede  as  is 
a  trewe  frend.  And  after  this  than  schal  ye  kepe 
you  fro  alle  straunge  folkes,  and  fro  lyeres,  and 


THE   TALE    OF   MELIBEUS.  165 

have  alway  in  suspect  here  compaignye.  For 
Pieres  Alfons  saith :  Ne  take  no  compaignie  by 
the  way  of  a  straunge  man,  but  so  be  that  thou 
knowe  him  of  a  lenger  tyme ;  and  if  so  be  he  falle 
into  thy  compaignye  paraventure  withouten  thin 
assent,  enquere  thanne,  as  subtilly  as  thou  maist, 
of  his  conversacioun,  and  of  his  lyf  bifore,  and 
feyne  thy  way,  and  say  that  thou  wilt  go  thider 
as  thou  wolt  nought  goon  ;  and  if  he  here  a  spere, 
hold  the  on  the  right  syde,  and  if  he  here  a  swerd, 
holde  the  on  the  lyft  syde.  And  so  after  this, 
thanne  sehul  ye  kepe  you  wisely  from  al  such 
peple  as  I  have  sayd  bifore,  and  hem  and  lure 
counseil  eschiewe.  And  after  this,  thanne  schul  ye 
kepe  yow  in  such  manere,  that  for  eny  presump- 
cioun  of  youre  strengthe,  that  ye  despise  not  the 
might  of  youre  adversarie  so  lite,  that  ye  Ictc  the 
kepinge  of  youre  persone  for  youre  presumpcioun ; 
for  every  wis  man  dredeth  his  enemy.  And  Salo- 
mon saith,  Weleful  is  he  that  of  alle  hath  drede  ; 
for  certes  he  that  thurgh  hardynes  of  his  herte, 
and  thurgh  the  hardinesse  of  himself,  hath  to  gret 
presumpcioun,  him  schal  evyl  bitide.  Thanne 
schal  ye  evermore  counterwayte  embusshemcntz 
and  alle  espiaillc.  For  Senec  saith,  that  the  wise 
man  that  dredith  harmes,  eschieweth  harmes,  ne 
he  ne  fallith  into  noone  perils,  that  perils  eschiew- 
eth. And  al  be  it  so  that  the  seme  that  thou  art 
in  siker  place,  yit  schaltow  alway  do  thy  diligence 
in  kepyng  of  thy  persone  ;  this  is  to  saye,  be  not 
necgligent  to  kepe  thy  persone,  nought  oonly  for 
thy  gretteste  enemyes,  but  fro  thy  lest  encmycs. 
Senec  saith:  A  man  that  is  wel  avysed,  he  dredith 


166  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

his  lest  enemy.  Ovide  scith,  that  the  litel  wesil 
wo\  sle  the  grete  hole  and  the  wilde  hert.  And 
the  book  saith,  a  litel  thorn  wol  prikke  a  king  ful 
sore,  and  an  hound  avoI  holde  the  wilde  boorc. 
But  natheles,  I  say  not  that  ye  sehul  be  so  moche 
a  coward,  that  ye  doute  where  is  no  neede  or 
drede.  The  book  saith,  that  som  folk  have  gret 
lust  to  disceyve,  but  yit  thay  dreden  hem  to  be 
deceyved.  Yet  schal  ye  drede  to  ben  empoisoned. 
And  kepe  the  fro  the  companye  of  scorners ;  for 
the  book  saith,  with  scorners  make  no  eompaignye, 
but  flee  hem  and  here  wordes  as  venym. 

'  Now  as  to  the  secounde  poynt,  where  as  youre 
wise  counseilours  warnede  yow  to  warmstore  youre 
hous  with  gret  diligence,  I  wolde  fliyn  wite  how 
that  ye  understoode  thilke  wordes,  and  wJiat  is 
your  sentence.'  Melibeus  answerde  and  saide : 
'  Certes,  I  understonde  it  in  this  wise,  that  I  schal 
warmstore  myn  hous  with  toures,  suche  as  ban 
castiles  and  other  maner  edifices,  and  armure,  and 
artilries ;  by  suche  thinges  I  may  my  persone  and 
myn  hous  so  kepen  and  edificn  and  defenden,  that 
myn  enemycs  schul  be  in  drede  myn  hous  to 
approche.' 

To  this  sentence  answerde  dame  Prudence : 
'  Warmstorynge,'  quod  sehe,  '  of  heihe  toures  and 
grete  edifices,  is  with  grete  costages  and  grete 
travaile ;  and  whan  that  thay  ben  accomplised,  yit 
beth  thay  nought  worth  a  straw,  but-if  they  be 
defended  by  trewe  frendcs,  that  beth  olde  and 
wise.  And  understondeth  that  the  grettest  strength 
or  garnisoun  that  the  riche  man  may  have,  as  wel 
to  kepe  his  persone  as  his  goodes,  is  that  he  be 


THE   TALE  OF   MELIBEUS,  167 

bilovcd  with  his  subgites  and  with  his  neighe- 
bours.  For  thus  saith  TuUius,  that  ther  is  a 
maner  garnisoun  that  no  man  may  vanquisshe  nc 
discomfite,  and  that  is  a  lord  to  be  biloved  with 
his  citezeins  and  of  his  peple. 

'  Now  thanne  as  to  youre  thridde  poynt,  where 
as  youre  olde  and  Avyse  counseillours  saydo,  ye 
oughte  nought  sodeinly  ne  hastily  precede  in  this 
neede,  but  that  ye  oughte  purveyen  yow  and  ap- 
paraile  yow  in  this  eaas  with  greet  diligence  and 
gret  deliberacioun  ;  trewely,  I  trowe,  that  thay 
saj'den  soth  and  right  wisely.  For  Tullius  saith : 
*  In  every  nede,  er  thou  bigynne  it,  apparaile  the 
with  gret  diligence.'  •  Thanne  say  I,  that  in  ven- 
geance takinge,  in  werre,  in  bataile,  and  in  warra- 
storinge  of  thin  hous,  er  thou  bygynne,  I  rede 
that  thou  apparaille  the  therto,  and  do  it  with 
gret  deliberacioun.  For  TulHus  saith,  that  long 
apparaylyng  byfore  the  bataille  maketh  sehort  vic- 
torie.  And  Cassidorus  saith,  the  garnisoun  is 
stronger  whan  it  is  long  tyme  avj-sed. 

'  But  now  let  us  speke  of  the  counseil  that  was 
accorded  by  youre  neighebours,  suche  as  doon  you 
reverence  withoute  love,  youre  olde  enemyes  re- 
counsiled,  youre  flatereres,  that  counseile  yow  cer- 
teyn  thinges  pryvely,  and  openly  counseile  yow 
the  contrario,  the  yonge  also,  that  counsaile  yow 
to  make  werre  and  venge  yow  anoon.  And  certes, 
sire,  as  I  have  sayd  byforn,  ye  have  gretly  erred 
to  have  cleped  such  maner  folk  to  youre  counseil, 
whiehe  be  now  reprevcd  by  the  resouns  byfore 
sayd.  But  natheles  let  us  now  descende  to  the 
purpos  special.     Ye  schul  first  precede  after  the 


168  THE   CANTERtiulvT   TALES. 

doctrine  of  Tullius.  Ccrtes,  the  trouthe  of  this 
matier  or  this  counseil  nedeth  nought  diligently 
enquere,  for  it  is  wol  wist  whiche  it  ben  that  doon 
to  yow  this  trcspas  and  vilonye,  and  how  many 
trespasoures,  and  in  what  maner  thay  han  to  yow 
doon  al  this  wrong  and  al  this  vilonye.  And  after 
that  schul  ye  examyne  the  secounde  condicioun, 
which  Tullius  addith  therto  in  this  matier. 
Tullius  put  a  thing,  which  that  he  clepeth  con- 
sentynge;  this  is  to  sayn,  who  ben  thay,  and 
whiche  ben  thay,  and  how  many  that  consentide 
to  this  matiere,  and  to  thy  counsail  in  thy  wilful- 
nesse,  to  do  hasty  yengeaunces.  And  let  us  con- 
sidere  also  who  ben  tho,  and  how  many  ben  tho,  that 
consentiden  to  youre  adversaries.  And  certes,  as 
to  the  first  poynt,  it  is  wel  knowen  whiche  folk 
ben  thay  that  consentide  to  youre  first  wilfulnes. 
For  trewly,  alle  tho  that  counsailled(?  yow  to  make 
sodeyn  werro,  beth  nought  youre  frendes.  Let  us 
considre  whiche  ben  tho  that  ye  holde  so  gretly 
youre  frendes,  as  to  youre  persone ;  for  al  be  it  so 
that  ye  be  mighty  and  riche,  certes  ye  been 
alloone ;  for  certes  ye  have  no  childe  but  a 
doughter,  ne  ye  have  no  bretheren,  ne  cosins 
germayns,  ne  noon  other  neigh  kynrede,  wherfore 
that  youre  enemyes  for  drede  schuldcn  stynte  for 
to  plede  with  you,  and  struye  youre  persone.  Ye 
knowe  also,  that  youre  richesses  mooten  in  divers 
parties  be  departed ;  and  whan  every  wight  hath 
his  part,  thay  avoI  take  but  litel  reward  to  venge 
thy  deth.  But  thyne  enemyes  ben  thre,  and  have 
many  children,  bretheren,  cosynes,  and  othere 
neigh  kynrede;  and  though  it  so  were  yo  hadde 


THE   TALE   OF   MELIBEUS,  169 

slajn  of  hem  tuo  or  thre,  yet  dwellen  there  y-nowe 
to  wreke   here    deth  and  sle  thi  persone.     And 
though  so  were  that  youre  kynredo  were  more 
sekir  and  stedefast  than  the  kynrede  of  youre  ad- 
versaries, yit  natheles  youre  kynrede  nis  but  a  fer 
kynrede,   and  litel  sib  to  yow,  and  the  kyn  of 
youre    enemyes  ben    neigh  sibbe   to  hem.     And 
certes,  as  in   that,  here   condicioun  is  bet  than 
youres.     Thanne  let  us  considere  also  if  the  coun- 
seilynge    of  hem    that    counseilede  yow  to  take 
sodein  vengeance,  whethir  it  accorde   to  resoun. 
And  certes,  ye  knowe  wel,  nay ;  for  as  by  right 
and  resoun,  ther  may  no  man    take  vengeaunce 
upon  no  wight,  but  the  jugge  that  hath  juredic- 
cioun  of  it,  whan  it  is  y-graunted  him   to  take 
thilke  vengeaunce  hastily,  or  attemperelly,  as  the 
lawe  requireth.     And  yit  moreover  of  thilke  word 
that  Tullius  clepith  consentynge,  thou  schalt  con- 
sidre,   if  thy  might  and  thy  power  may  consento 
and  suffice  to  thy  wilfulnes  and  to  thy  eounseilours. 
And  certes,  thou  maist  wel  saye,  that  nay ;  for 
siciirly,  as  for  to  spoke  properly,  we  maye  doo  no 
thing  but  oonly  oon  thing  which  we  maye  do  right- 
fully ;  and  certes  rightfully  maye  ye  take  no  ven- 
geance, as  of  youre  owns  auctorite'.     Than  may  ye 
se  that  youre  power  consentith  not,  ne  accordith 
not,  with  youre  wilfulnesse. 

'  Let  us  now  examyno  the  thridde  poynt,  that 
Tullius  clepeth  consequente.  Thou  schalt  undcr- 
stonde,  that  the  vengeance  that  thou  purposiddest 
for  to  take,  is  consequent,  and  thereof  folwcth 
another  vengeaunce,  peril,  and  werre,  and  other 
damages  withoute  nombre,  of  whicho  wo  be  not 


170  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES, 

war,  as  at  this  tj-me.     And  as  touching  the  fourthe 
poj'nt,    that   TuUius   clepeth    engendrynge,    thou 
schalt  eonsidre  that  this  wrong  which  that  is  doon 
to  the,  is  cngendrcd  of  the  hate  of  thin  cnemj-es, 
and  of  the  vengeauncc  takingo  up  that  wolde  cn- 
gendrc  another  vengeauncc,  and  moche  sorwe  and 
wastyng  of  riches,  as  I  sayde.     Now,  sire,  as  to 
the  poynt  that  Tullius  clepith  causes,  whiche  that 
is  the  hxste  poynt,  thou  schalt  understonde  that  the 
wrong    that    thou    hast    receyved    hath    certej'n 
causes,    whicho    that    clerkes    calle    oriens,    and 
efficiens,  and  causa  longinqua,  and  causa  propin- 
qua,  this  is  to  saje,  the  fer  cause,  and  the  neigh 
cause.     For  the  fer  cause  is  almighty  God,  that  is 
cause  of  alle  thinges ;  the  nere  cause  is  thi  thre 
enemycs ;    the    cause   accidental    was    hate ;    the 
causes  materiales  been  the  fyve  woundes  of  thy 
doughter ;  the  cause  formal  is  the  maner  of  here 
werkyng,  that  brought  in  laddres  and  clombe  in 
at  thin  wyndowes ;  the  cause  final  was  for  to  sle 
thy  doughter ;  hit  lettede  nought  in  as  moche  as 
was  in  hem.     But  for  to  speke  of  the  fer  cause,  as 
to  what  ende  thay  schal  come,  or  what  schal  finally 
betyde  of  hem  in  this  cause,  can  I  not  deme,  but 
by  conjectinge  and  by  supposyng,  for  we  schul  sup- 
pose, that  thay  schul  come  to  a  wikked  ende,  by- 
cause  that  the  book  of  Decrees  saith :  Seelden,  or 
with  gret  peyne,  ben  causes  i-brought  to  a  good 
ende,  whan  thay  ben  evyl  bygonne. 

'  Now,  sire,  if  men  wolde  axe  me,  why  that  God 
suflrede  men  to  do  yow  this  wrong  and  vilonye, 
certes  I  can  not  wel  answere,  as  for  no  sothfastnes. 
For  the  apostil  saith,  that  the  sciences  and  the 


THE   TALE   OF   MELIBEUS.  l7l 

juggemcnts  of  ourc  Lord  God  almyghty  ben  ful 
deepe,  ther  may  no  man  comprehende  ne  serchcn 
hem  sufficiauntly.  Natheles,  by  certeyn  pre- 
sumpciouns  and  conjectinges,  I  holde  and  bilieve, 
that  God,  which  that  is  ful  of  justice  and  of  right- 
wisnesse,  hath  suffred  this  to  betyde,  by  juste  cause 
resonable.  Thy  name,  Melibe,  is  to  say,  a  man 
that  drynketh  hony.  Thou  hast  y-dronkc  so  moclie 
hony  of  sweete  temperel  richesses  and  delices  and 
honours  of  this  world,  that  thou  art  dronke,  and 
hast  foryete  Jhcsu  Crist  thy  creatour ;  thou  hast 
not  doon  him  such  honour  and  reverence  as  tho 
oughte  to  doone,  ne  thou  hast  nought  wel  taken 
keep  to  the  wordes  of  Ovide,  that  saith.  Under  the 
hony  of  thy  goodes  of  thy  body  is  hid  the  venym 
that  sleeth  thi  soule.  And  Salamon  saith,  If  thou 
have  founde  hony,  etc  of  it  that  sufficeth ;  for  if 
thou  ete  of  it  out  of  mesure,  thou  schalt  spewe, 
and  be  nedy  and  povcre.  And  peraventure  Crist 
hath  the  in  despit,  and  hath  torncd  away  fro  the 
his  face  and  his  eeres  of  misericorde ;  and  also  he 
hath  suffred  that  thou  hast  ben  punysshed  in  tho 
manor  that  thou  hast  i-trespassed.  Thou  hast 
doon  synne  ayeinst  euro  Lord  Crist,  for  ccrtes  the 
thro  enemyes  of  mankinde,  that  is  to  saye,  thy 
flessche,  the  fecnd,  and  the  world,  thou  hast 
y-suffred  hem  to  entro  into  thin  hcrtc  wilfully,  by 
the  wyndow  of  thy  body,  and  hast  nought  defended 
thiself  sufficiently  agayns  here  assautis,  and  hero 
tcmptacioims,  so  that  thay  have  woundid  thi  soule 
in  fyve  places,  this  is  to  sayn,  the  dcdly  synnes  that 
ben  entred  into  thin  herte  by  thy  {y\c  wiftes;  and 
in  the  same  manor  ourc  Lord  Crist  hath  wolde 


172  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

and  suflVod,  tliat  thy  thre  encmyes  ben  entred  into 
thin  hous  by  tho  wyndowes,  and  have  i-woundid 
thi  doughter  in  the  forsayde  manor.' 

'  Certes/  quod  Mclibeus,  '  I  se  wel  that  ye  en- 
force yow  mochc  by  wordes  to  overcome  me,  in 
such  nianere,  that  I  schal  not  venge  me  on  myn 
enemyes,  schewynge  me  the  perils  and  the  yveles 
that  mighten  falle  of  this  vengeauncc.  But  who- 
so wolde  considre  in  alle  vengcaunccs  the  periles 
and  the  yveles  that  mighten  folwo  of  vengeaunces 
takynge,  a  man  wolde  never  take  vengeaunce,  and 
that  were  harm ;  for  by  vengeaunce  takynge  be 
wikked  men  destruyed  and  dissevered  fro  the  goodc 
men.  And  thay  that  have  wille  to  wikkednes,  re- 
streignen  here  wikked  purpos,  whan  thay  seen  tho 
punysshyng  and  the  chastisyng  of  trespasours. 

'  And  yit  say  I  more,  that  right  so  as  a  sengle 
persone  synneth  in  taking  of  vengeaunce,  right  so 
the  jugge  synneth  if  he  doo  no  vengeaunce  on  him 
that  it  hath  deserved.  For  Senec  saith  thus  :  That 
maister,  he  saith,  is  good  that  reprove^/i  schrcwes. 
And  as  Cassoder  saith :  A  man  dredeth  to  doon 
outrage,  whan  he  woot  and  knoweth  that  it  dis- 
pleseth  to  tho  juggcs  and  the  soveraynes.  And 
another  saith :  The  jugge  that  dredeth  to  demon 
right,  maketh  schrewes.  And  seint  Poul  thappos- 
toil  saith  in  his  epistil,  whan  he  writeth  to  the 
Romayns  :  The  jugges  here  not  the  spere  withoute 
cause,  but  thay  beren  it  to  punysshe  the  schrewes 
and  mysdoers,  and  for  to  defende  Avith  the  goodc 
men.  If  ye  wol  take  vengeaunce  on  youre  enemyes, 
ye  schul  retournc  or  have  rccours  to  the  jugges, 
that  have  jurediccioun  upon  hem,  and  he  schal 


THE   TALE   OF   MEIJBEUS.  173 

punissche  hem,  as  the  law  axeth  and  requireth.' 
'  Ah  !'  quod  Melibous,  '  this  vengeaunce  liketh  me 
no  thing.  I  bythenke  me  now,  and  take  heed, 
l:ow  Fortune  hath  norissched  me  fro  my  childhode, 
and  hath  holpe  me  to  passen  many  a  strayt  passage  ; 
now  wol  I  aske  her  that  sche  schal,  with  Goddes 
help,  helpe  me  my  schame  for  to  venge.' 

'  Certes,'  quod  Prudence, '  if  ye  wil  wirche  by  my 
counseil,  ye  schul  not  assaye  Fortune  by  no  maner 
way,  ne  ye  schul  not  lene  ne  bowe  unto  hire,  after 
the  word  of  Senec;  for  thinges  that  beth  foUy/y 
clone,  and  that  beth  done  in  hope  of  Fortune,  schul 
never  come  to  good  ende.  And  as  the  same  Senek 
saith :  The  more  cleer  and  the  more  schynynge 
that  Fortune  is,  the  more  brutil,  and  the  sonner 
breketh  sche.  So  trusteth  nouglit  in  hire,  for  sche 
is  nought  stedefast  ne  stable  :  for  whan  thou  wenest 
or  trowest  to  be  most  siker  or  seur  of  hir  help, 
sche  wol  fayle  and  deceyve  the.  And  wher  as  ye 
say(?,  that  Fortune  hath  norisshcd  yow  fro  youre 
childhode,  I  say  that  in  so  mochcl  ye  schul  the 
lasse  truste  in  hire  and  in  hire  witte.  For  Senek 
saith :  What  man  that  is  norissched  by  Fortune, 
sche  makcth  him  a  gret  fool.  Now  siththe  ye  de- 
sire and  axe  vengeaunce,  and  the  vengeaunce  that 
is  doon  after  the  lawe  and  heforne  the  juge  ne  liketh 
yowe  novr/ht,  and  the  vengeaunce  that  is  doon  in 
nope  of  Fortune,  is  perilous  and  unccrteyn,  thanne 
haveth  ye  noon  other  remedye,  but  for  to  have  re- 
cours  unto  the  soveraigne  jugge,  that  vengith  alle 
vilonies  and  wrongcs ;  and  he  schal  venge  yow, 
after  that  himself  witnesscth,  where  as  he  saith: 
Leveth  the  vengeaunce  to  me,  and  I  schal  yelde  it.' 


174  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

Melibeus  answerd :  '  If  I  ne  venge  me  nought  of 
the  vilonye  that  men  have  doon  unto  me,  I  schal 
somjyne  or  warno  hem  that  han  doon  to  m.e  that 
vilonj^e,  and  alle  othcre,  to  doo  me  another  vilonye. 
For  it  is  writen  :  If  thou  tak  no  vengeaunce  of  an 
old  vilonye,  thou  sompnest  thin  adversarie  do  the 
a  newe  vilonye.  And  also,  for  my  sufFraunce, 
men  wolde  do  me  so  moche  vilonye,  that  I  mighte 
neither  here  it  ne  susteyne  it ;  and  so  sehulde  I  be 
put  over  lowe.  For  men  say,  in  moche  sufferynge 
schal  many  thinges  falle  unto  the,  whiehe  thou 
schalt  nought  mowe  suffre.'  '  Certes,'  quod  Pru- 
dence, '  I  graunte  yow  wcl,  that  over  mochil 
suffraunee  is  nought  good,  but  yit  folwith  it  nought 
thereof,  that  every  persone  to  Avhom  men  doon 
vilonye,  take  of  it  vengeaunce.  For  it  appertieneth 
and  longeth  al  oonly  to  the  jugges,  for  thay  schul 
venge  the  vilonyes  and  the  injuries ;  and  therfore 
the  auctoritees  that  ye  have  sayd  above  been  oonly 
vinderstonden  in  the  jugges  ;  for  whan  thay  suffre 
to  mochil  the  wronges  and  the  vilonyes  that  ben 
doon  withoute  punysshyng,  thay  somne  not  a  man 
oonly  to  doo  newe  wronges,  but  thay  comaunde 
hit.  Also  the  wise  man  saith :  The  jugge  that 
corrccteth  not  the  synnere,  comaundith  and  byd- 
dith  him  doon  another  synne.  And  the  jugges 
and  sovcreignes  mighten  in  here  lond  so  mochil 
suffren  of  the  schrewes  and  mysdoeres,  that  thay 
sehulde  by  such  suffraunee,  by  proces  of  tyme, 
wcxen  of  such  power  and  might,  that  thay  sehulde 
put  out  the  jugges  and  the  sovereignes  from  here 
places,  and  atte  lasts  do  hem  lese  here  lordschipes. 
But  lete  us  now  putte,  that  ye  han  leve  to  venge 


THE   TALE   OF   MELIBEUS.  175 

yow ;  I  say  yo  ben  nought  of  might  ne  power  as 
now  to  venge  you ;  for  if  ye  wolde  make  com- 
parisoun  as  to  the  might  of  youre  advei'saries,  ye 
schulde  fyndc  in  many  thinges,  that  I  have 
i-schewed  yow  er  this,  that  here  condicioun  is 
bettre  than  youres,  and  therfore  say  I,  that  it  is 
good  as  now,  that  ye  sufire  and  be  pacient. 

'  Forthermore  ye  knowe  xvel  that  after  the  comune 
sawe,  it  is  a  woodnesse,  a  man  to  strjwc  with  a 
strenger  or  a  more  mighty  man  than  himselven  is  ; 
and  for  to  stryve  Avith  a  man  of  evene  strengthe, 
that  is  to  saye,  with  as  strong  a  man  as  he  is,  it  is 
peril;  and  for  to  stryve  with  a  weykere,  it  is  a 
folye ;  and  therfore  schulde  a  man  fle  stryvynge  as 
moche  as  he  mighte.  For  Salamon  seith  :  It  is  a 
gret  worschipc,  a  man  to  kepe  him  fro  noyse  and 
stryfe.  And  if  it  so  bifalle  or  happe  that  a  man 
of  gretter  might  and  strengthe  than  thou  art  do 
the  grevaunce,  studie  and  busye  the  rather  to  stille 
the  same  grevaunce,  than  for  to  venge  the.  For 
Scnec  saith,  he  putteth  him  in  a  gret  peril  that 
stryveth  with  a  gretter  man  than  he  him  selven  is. 
And  Catoun  saith :  If  a  man  of  heiher  estat  or 
degre,  or  more  mighty  then  thou,  do  the  ano?/c 
other  grevaunce,  suftre  him;  for  he  that  hath  oones 
don  the  a  grievaunee,  may  another  t3'mc  relieve 
the  and  helpe  the. 

'  Yit  sette  I  a  caas,  ye  have  bothe  might  and 
licence  for  to  venge  yow,  I  say  ther  ben  ful  many 
thinges  that  schulde  restreinge  yow  of  vengeauncc 
takynge,  and  make  yow  to  encline  to  suffre,  and  to 
have  pacience  of  the  wronges  that  han  ben  doon  to 
yow.     First   and   forward,  ye  wol    considre   the 


170  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

defautes  that  ben  in  yourc  owne  personc,  for 
whiche  defautes  God  hath  suflfred  yow  to  have  this 
tribulacioun,  as  I  have  sayd  jow  herbyfore.  For 
the  poete  saith,  Wc  oughten  paciently  to  suffre  the 
tribulaeioiin  that  cometh  to  us,  Avhan  that  we 
thenken  and  considercn,  that  we  han  deserved  to 
have  hem.  And  seint  Gi^egorie  saith,  that  whan 
a  man  considereth  wel  the  nombre  of  his  de&utcs, 
and  of  his  synnes,  the  peynes  and  the  tribulaciouns 
that  he  suffereth  semen  the  lasse  unto  him.  And 
in  as  moche  as  him  thenkith  his  synnes  the  more 
hevy  and  grevous,  in  so  moche  his  peyne  is  the 
lighter  and  the  more  esicr  unto  him.  Also  ye 
oughten  to  encline  and  bowe  youre  herte,  to  take  the 
pacience  of  oure  Lord  Jhcsu  Christ,  as  saith  seint 
Peter  in  his  Epistles.  Jhesu  Christ,  he  seith,  hath 
sufFred  for  us,  and  yiven  ensample  unto  every  man 
to  folwe  and  sewe  him ;  for  he  dede  never  synne, 
ne  never  cam  a  vileyns  worde  out  of  his  mouth. 
Whan  men  cursed  him,  he  cursed  hem  not;  and 
whan  men  beete  him,  he  manased  hem  not.  Also 
the  gret  pacience  which  that  seintes  that  been  in 
Paradys  han  had  in  tribulaciouns  that  thay  have 
had  and  suffred  withoute  desert  or  gult,  oughte 
moche  to  stire  you  to  pacience.  Forthermore,  ye 
schul  enforce  yow  to  have  pacience,  consideringe 
that  the  tribulaciouns  of  this  Avorld  but  litel  while 
enduren,  and  soon  passed  ben  and  goon,  and  the 
joye  that  a  man  sechcth  to  have  by  pacience  in 
tribulaciouns  is  perdurable ;  after  tliat  the  apostil 
seith  in  his  Epistil :  the  joye  of  God,  he  saith,  is 
perdurable,  that  is  to  say,  evermore  lastynge. 
Also  troweth  and  bilieveth  stedefastly,  that  he  is 


THE   TALE   OF   MELIBEUS.  177 

not  wel  norisched  and  taught,  that  can  nought  have 
pacience,  or  wil  nought  receyve  pacience.  For 
Salamon  saith,  that  the  doctrine  and  the  witte  of 
a  man  is  i-kno\ve  by  pacience.  And  in  another 
place  he  seith :  He  that  hath  pacience  governeth 
him  by  grot  prudence.  And  the  same  Salamon 
seith,  that  the  wrathful  and  the  angry  man  maketh 
noyses,  and  the  pacient  man  attempereth  and 
stilleth  him.  He  seith  also  :  It  is  more  worth  to 
be  pacient  than  for  to  be  right  strong.  And  he 
that  may  have  his  lordschipe  of  his  oughne  hcrte, 
is  more  worth  and  more  to  prcise  than  he  that  by 
his  force  and  by  his  strengthe  taketh  grete  citees. 
And  therfore  saith  seint  Jame  in  his  Epistil,  that 
pacience  is  a  gret  vertu  of  perfeccioun.' 

'  Certes,^  quod  Mellbe,  '  /  graunte  yowe,  dame 
Prudence,  that  pacience  is  a  grete  vertue  of  perfec- 
cione ;  but  every  man  may  not  have  the  perfeccioun 
that  ye  seekyn,  ne  I  am  not  of  the  nombre  of  right 
parfyte  men  ;  for  myn  herte  may  never  be  in  pees, 
unto  the  tyme  it  be  vcnged.  And  al  be  it  so,  that 
it  was  a  gret  peril  to  myne  cnemyes  to  don  me  a 
vilonye  in  takinge  vengeaunee  upon  me,  yit  tooken 
thay  noon  heede  of  the  peril,  but  fulfilden  here 
wikked  desir  and  her  corrage ;  and  therfore  me 
thenketh  men  oughten  nought  repreve  me,  though 
I  putte  me  in  a  litel  peril  for  to  venge  me,  and 
though  I  do  a  gret  excessc,  that  is  to  saye,  that 
I  venge  oon  outrage  by  another.' 

'A!'  quod  dame  Prudence,  '  ye  saye  you  re  wille 
and  as  yow  likith ;  but  in  noon  caas  in  the  world 
a  man  ne  schulde  nought  doon  outrage  no  excesse 
for  to  venge   him.     For  Cassidore  saith,  as  evel 

VOL.  Ill,  X 


178  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES, 

doth  he  that  avengith  him  by  outrage,  as  he  that 
doth  the  outrage.  And  therfore  ye  schul  venge 
yow  after  the  ordre  of  right,  that  is  to  sayn,  by 
the  lawe,  and  nought  by  excesse,  ne  by  outrage. 
And  also  if  ye  Avile  venge  yow  of  the  outrage  of 
youre  adversaries,  in  other  nianer  than  right  co- 
maundeth,  ye  synnen.  And  therefore  saith  Senec, 
that  a  man  schal  never  venge  schrewednes  by 
schrewednes.  And  if  j-e  saye  that  right  axeth  a 
man  to  defende  violence  b}^  vyolence,  and  fightyng 
by  fightynge ;  certes,  ye  saye  soth,  whan  the  de- 
fence is  doon  anoon  withouten  intervalle,  or  with- 
outen  tarjange  or  dilay,  for  to  dcfenden  him,  and 
nought  for  to  venge  him.  And  it  bihoveth  a  man 
putte  such  attemperance  in  his  defence,  that  men 
have  no  cause  ne  matiere  to  repreven  him  that 
defendith  him,  of  excesse  and  outrage.  Parde ! 
ye  knowe  wel,  that  ye  make  no  defence  as  now 
for  to  defende  yow,  but  for  to  venge  yow ;  and  so 
semeth  it,  that  ye  have  no  wille  to  do  youre  wille 
attemperelly ;  and  therfore  me  thenkith  that  pa- 
cience  is  good.  For  Salamon  saith,  that  he  that 
is  not  pacient  schal  have  gret  harm.'  *  Certes,' 
quod  Melibeus,  '  I  graunte  you  Avel,  that  whan  a 
man  is  inpacient  and  wroth  of  that  that  toucheth 
him  nouht,  and  that  that  apperteigneth  nouht  to  him, 
thouh  it  harme  him  it  is  no  luondere.  For  the  lawe 
saith,  that  he  is  coupable  that  entremettith  him 
or  mellith  him  with  such  thing,  as  aperteyneth 
not  unto  him.  Dan  Salamon  saith,  He  that  entre- 
metteth  him  of  the  noyse  or  stryf  of  another  man, 
is  lik  him  that  takith  the  straunge  hound  by  the 
eeres ;  for  right  as  he  that  takith  a  straunge  hound 


THE   TALE   OF   3IELIBEUS.  179 

by  the  eeres  is  other  while  biten  with  the  hound, 
right  in  the  same  wise,  it  is  resoun  that  he  have 
harm,  that  by  his  impaeience  melleth  him  of  the 
noise  of  another  man,  where  it  aperteyneth  not  to 
liini.  But  ye  schul  knowe  Avel,  that  this  dede, 
that  is  to  sayn,  myn  disease  and  my  grief,  toucheth 
me  right  neigh.  And  therfore,  though  I  be  wroth, 
it  is  no  mervayle;  and  (savynge  your  grace)  I  can 
not  see  that  it  mighte  gretly  harrae  me,  though  I 
toke  vengeaunee,  for  I  am  richer  and  more  mighty 
than  myne  enemyes  been  ;  and  wel  knowe  ye,  that 
by  money  and  by  havynge  of  grete  possessiouns, 
ben  alle  the  thinges  of  this  world  governede.  And 
Salamon  saith,  that  alle  thinges  obeyen  to  rao- 
neye.' 

Whan  Prudence  had  herd  Mr  husbonde  to  avaunten 
him  of  his  riches  and  of  his  monye,  and  dispreisynge  the 
poucr  of  his  adversaries,  tho  sche  spak  and  sayde 
in  this  wyse :  '  Certes,  deere  sire,  I  graunte  yow 
that  ye  ben  riche  and  mighty,  and  that  richesse  is 
good  to  hem  that  wel  have  geten  it,  and  that  wel 
conne  use  it.  For  right  as  the  body  of  a  man  may 
not  be  withoute  the  soule,  no  more  may  a  man 
lyve  withoute  temperel  goodes,  and  by  richesse 
may  a  man  gete  him  greet  frendschipe.  And 
therfore  saith  Pamphilles :  If  a  neet-hurdes 
doughter,  he  saith,  be  riche,  sche  may  cheese  of 
a  thousand  men,  which  she  wol  take  to  hir  hous- 
bonde  ;  for  of  a  thousand  men  oon  wil  not  forsake 
hir  ne  refuse  hire.  And  this  Pamphilles  seith  also: 
If  thou  be  right  happy,  that  is  to  sayn,  if  thou  be 
right  riche,  thanne  schalt  thou  fynde  a  gret  norabre 
of  felawes  and  frendes ;  and  if  thy  fortune  chaunge, 


180  THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 

that  thou  waxe  pore,  fare  wel  frendschipe,  for  thou 
schalt  bcii  aloone  withouten  any  companye,  but 
if  it  be  the  compaignye  of  pore  folk.  And  yit 
saith  this  Pamphilkis  moreover,  that  they  that 
ben  thral  and  bonde  of  linage,  sehuUen  ben  maad 
worthy  and  noble  by  richesse.  And  right  so  as 
by  richesse  ther  come  many  goodes,  right  so  by 
povert  comcn  ther  many  harmes  and  yvels ;  for 
arete  poverte  consireijneth  a  man  to  clone  momj  yvels. 
And  therfore  clepeth  Cassidore  povert  the  moder  of 
ruyne,  that  is  to  sayn,  the  moder  of  overthrowyng 
or  fallynge  doun.  And  therfore  seith  Pieres  Al- 
phons  :  Oon  of  the  grettest  adversites  of  this 
world,  is  whan  a  freeman  by  kyn  or  burthe  is 
constreigned  by  povert  to  eten  the  almes  of  his 
enemycs.  And  the  same  seith  Innocent  in  oon 
of  his  bookes,  that  sorwcful  and  unhappy  is  the 
condicioun  of  a  povere  begger,  for  if  he  axe  nought 
his  mete,  he  deyeth  for  hungir,.and  if  he  axe,  he 
deyeth  for  schame ;  and  algates  the  necessite  con- 
streigneth  hym  to  axe.  And  therfore  saith  Sala- 
mon,  that  bettre  it  is  to  deye,  than  to  have  such 
povert.  And  as  the  same  Salamon  saith;  Bettir 
is  to  deye  on  bitter  deth,  than  for  to  lyve  in  such 
a  wysc. 

'  By  these  resouns  that  I  have  sayd  unto  yow, 
and  by  many  another  resoun  thatlknoweand  couthe 
say,  I  graunte  yow  that  richesses  ben  goode  to  hem 
that  gete  hem  wel,  and  to  hem  that  hem  wel  usen ; 
and  tlierfore  wol  I  schewe  yow  how  ye  schulde 
hero  yow  in  getyng  of  riches,  and  in  what  maner 
ye  schulde  use  hem.  First,  ye  schulde  gete  hem 
withoute  gret  desir,  by  good  Icysir,  sokyngly,  and 


THE   TALE   OF   MELIBEUS.  181 

nought  over  hastily ;  for  a  man  that  is  to  desir- 
ynge  for  to  gete  riches,  abandoneth  him  first  to 
thefte  and  to  allc  othere  yvcles.  And  therfore 
saith  Salamon :  He  that  hastith  him  to  bisyly  to 
waxe  riche,  schal  ben  noon  innocent.  He  saith 
also,  that  the  riches  that  hastily  eomcth  to  a  man, 
soonc  and  lightly  goth  and  passeth  fro  a  man, 
but  that  richessc  that  cometh  alway  litcl  and  litel, 
waxeth  alway  and  multiplieth.  And,  sire,  ye  schal 
gete  richesse  by  youre  witte,  and  by  youre  travayle, 
unto  youre  profyt,  and  that  withoutc  wrong  or 
harm  doynge  to  eny  other  persone.  For  the  lawe 
saith,  that  no  man  maketh  himself  riche,  that  doth 
harm  to  another  wight ;  that  ig  to  saye,  that  nature 
defendeth  and  forbedith  by  right,  that  no  man 
make  him-self  riche  unto  the  harm  of  another 
persone.  TulHus  saith,  that  no  sorwe  ne  drede 
of  deth,  ne  no  tiling  that  may  falle  to  a  man,  is  so 
mochc  ayeinst  nature,  as  a  man  to  cncresce  his 
oughne  profyt  to  the  harm  of  another  man.  And 
though  the  grete  men  and  riche  men  gete  richesse 
more  lightly  than  thou,  yit  schalt  thou  not  be  ydil 
ne  slowe  to  thy  profyt,  for  thou  schalt  in  alle  wise 
flee  ydilnes.  For  Salamon  saith,  that  ydelnesso 
techith  a  man  to  do  many  yveles.  And  the  same 
Salamon  saith,  that  he  that  travaileth  and  besieth 
him  to  tilye  the  lond,  schal  ete  the  breed  ;  but  he  that 
is  ydil,  and  casteth  him  to  no  busynesse  ne  occu- 
pacioun,  schal  falle  into  povert,  and  deye  for  hunger. 
And  he  that  is  ydel  and  slough,  can  never  fj-nde 
him  tyme  for  to  do  his  profyt.  For  thcr  is  a  ver- 
sifiour  saith,  the  ydel  man  excuseth  him  in  wyntcr, 
bycausc  of  the  grcte  colde,  and  in  somer  by  en- 


182  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

chesoun  of  the  grete  hete.  For  these  causes,  saith 
Catoun,  wakcth,  and  enclineth  yow  nought  over 
moche  for  to  slepe,  for  over  moche  reste  norischeth 
and  causeth  many  vices.  And  therfore  saith  seint 
Jcrom :  Doth  some  goode  deedes,  that  the  devel, 
which  that  is  oure  enemy,  ne  fynde  yow  im- 
oceupied  ;  for  the  devel  ne  takith  not  lightly  unto 
his  werkes  suche  as  he  fyndeth  occupied  in  goode 
werkes.  Thanne  thus  in  getynge  of  riches  ye  moot 
flee  ydelnesse.  And  afterward  ye  schul  use  the 
richesses,  the  whiche  ye  han  geten  by  youre  witte 
and  by  youre  travaile,  in  such  a  manor,  that  men 
holde  yow  not  skaree  ne  to  sparynge,  ne  to  fool 
large,  that  is  to  say,  over  large  a  spender.  For 
right  as  men  blamen  an  averous  man,  bycause  of 
his  skarsete  and  chyncherie,  in  the  same  manere 
is  he  to  blame,  that  spendeth  over  largely.  And 
therfore  saith  Catoun :  Use,  he  saith,  thi  richesses 
that  thou  hast  y-geten  in  such  a  manere,  that 
men  have  no  matier  ne  cause  to  calle  the  neither 
wrecehe  ne  chynche ;  for  it  is  gret  schame  to  a 
man  to  have  a  pover  herte  and  a  riche  purse.  He 
saith  also :  The  goodes  that  thou  hast  i-geten, 
use  hem  by  mesure,  that  is  to  saye,  spende  hem 
mesurably;  for  thay  that  folily  wastcn  and  spenden 
the  goodes  that  thay  have,  whan  thay  have  no  more 
propre  of  here  oughne,  thay  schape  hem  to  take 
the  goodes  of  another  man.  I  say  thanne  ye  schul 
flee  avarice,  usynge  your  richesse  in  such  manere, 
that  men  seie  nouht  that  youre  richesse  be  buried, 
but  that  ye  have  hem  in  youre  might  and  in  youre 
weldynge.  For  the  wise  man  reproveth  the  averous 
man,  and  saith  thus  in  tuo  versus :    Wherto  and 


THE   TALE   or   MELIBEUS.  183 

why  biirieth  a  man  his  goodes  by  his  gret  avarice, 
and  knowith  wcl,  that  needes  most  he  deye,  for 
deth  is  the  ende  of  every  man,  as  in  this  present 
lif  ?  And  for  what  cause  or  enchesoun  joyneth  he 
him,  or  knetteth  him  so  fast  unto  his  goodes,  that 
alle  his  wittes  mowe  nought  dissever  him,  or  de- 
parte  him  fro  his  goodes,  and  knowith  wel,  or 
oughte  knowe  wel,  that  whan  he  is  deed,  he  schal 
no  thing  here  with  him  out  of  this  world?  And 
therfore  seith  scint  Austyn,  that  the  averous  man  is 
likned  unto  hellc,  that  the  more  that  it  swolwith, 
the  more  it  desireth  to  swolwe  and  devoure.  And 
as  wel  as  ye  wolde  eschewe  to  be  cleped  an  averous 
man  or  ehinche,  as  wel  sehulde  ye  kepe  yow  and 
governe  yoAV,  in  such  a  wise,  that  men  clepe  yow 
nought  fool  large.  Therfore  saith  TuUius :  The 
goodes,  he  saith,  of  thin  hous  sehulde  nought  ben 
hidde  ne  kepte  so  clos,  but  that  thay  mighte  ben 
opened  by  pite  and  by  bonairete ;  that  is  to  sayn, 
to  yive  hem  part  that  ban  gret  neede ;  ne  thy 
goodes  schul  not  be  so  open,  to  be  every  mannes 
goodes. 

'  Aftirward,  in  getynge  of  youre  richesses,  and 
in  usynge  hem,  ye  schul  alway  have  thre  thinges 
in  youre  herte,  that  is  to  say,  oure  lord  God,  con- 
science, and  good  name.  First,  ye  schul  have  God 
in  youre  herte,  and  for  no  riches  ye  schul  in  no 
mancre  doo  no  thing  which  mighte  displese  God 
that  is  your  creatour  and  youre  maker.  For  after 
the  word  of  Salamon,  it  is  better  to  have  litil  good 
with  love  of  God,  than  to  have  mochil  good  and 
tresor,  and  lese  the  love  of  his  lord  God.  And 
the  prophete  saith :    Better  is  to  ben  a  good  man, 


184  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

and  have  litel  good  and  tresore,  than  to  ben  holden 
a  sehrewe,  and  have  gret  riches.  And  yit  say  I 
forthermore,  that  ye  schuln  ahvay  doon  youre 
businesse  to  gete  yow  riches,  so  that  ye  gete  hem 
with  good  conscience.  And  the  apostil  seith,  ther 
nys  thing  in  this  world  of  which  we  schuln  have 
so  gret  joye,  as  whan  oure  conscience  bereth  us 
good  witnes.  And  the  wise  man  s^ith  :  The  sub- 
staunce  of  a  man  is  ful  good,  whan  synne  is  not 
in  his  conscience.  Afterward,  in  getynge  of  youre 
richesses,  and  in  usynge  of  hem,  thou  most  have 
gret  busynesse  and  gret  diligence,  that  youre  good 
name  be  alway  kept  and  conserved.  For  Salamon 
saith:  Better  it  is,  and  more  a^'cilith  a  man,  for 
to  have  a  good  name,  than  for  to  have  gret  riches. 
And  therforo  he  saith  in  another  place :  Do  gret 
diligence,  saith  Salamon,  in  kepynge  of  thy  frend, 
and  of  thy  good  name,  for  it  schal  lenger  abyde 
with  the,  than  eny  tresor,  be  it  never  so  precious. 
And  certes,  he  schulde  nought  be  clcped  a  gcntil 
man,  that  after  God  and  good  conscience,  alle 
thinges  left,  ne  doth  liis  diligence  and  bvisynesse 
to  kepe  his  good  name.  And  Cassidore  saith,  that 
it  is  signe  of  a  good  man  and  a  gentil,  or  of  a  gentil 
liertc,  whan  a  man  lovetli  or  desireth  to  have  a 
good  name.  And  therfore  saith  seint  Augustyn, 
that  ther  ben  tuo  thinges  that  ben  necessarie  and 
needful ;  and  that  is  good  conscience  and  good 
loos  ;  that  is  to  sayn,  good  conscience  in  thin 
oughne  personc  in-ward,  and  good  loos  of  thin 
neghebor  out- ward.  And  he  that  trusteth  him  so 
moche  in  his  good  conscience,  that  he  despisoth 
and  settith  at  nought  his  good  name  or  loos,  and 


THE   TALE   OF   MELIBEUS.  185 

rekketh  nought  though  he  kepe  not  his  good  name, 
nys  but  a  cruel  churL 

'  Sire,  now  have  I  schcwod  yow  how  ye  schulde 
doon  in  getyng  of  good  and  riches,  and  how  ye 
schulde  use  hem  ;  I  see  wel  that  for  the  trust  that 
ye  have  in  youre  riches,  ye  wolde  meve  werre  and 
bataile.  I  counseile  yow  that  ye  bygynne  no  werre 
in  trust  of  youre  riches,  for  thay  suffisen  not  "werres 
to  mayntene.  And  therfore  saith  a  philosophre : 
That  man  that  desireth  and  wol  algate  have  werre, 
schal  never  have  sufficeaunce  ;  for  the  richere  that 
he  is,  the  gretter  dispense  most  he  make,  if  he 
wol  have  worschipe  or  victorie.  And  Salamon 
saith :  The  gretter  riches  that  a  man  liath,  the 
moo  despendours  he  hath.  And,  deere  sire,  al  be 
it  so  that  for  youre  riches  j'c  mowe  have  moche 
iblk,  yit  byhoveth  it  not  ne  it  is  not  good  to  by- 
gynne werre,  ther  as  ye  may  in  other  maner  have 
pees  unto  youre  worschipe  and  profyt ;  for  the 
victorie  of  bataillcs  that  ben  in  this  world,  lith 
not  in  grot  nombrc  or  multitude  of  poeple,  ne  in 
vertu  of  man,  but  it  lith  in  the  Aville  and  in  the  bond 
of  oure  lord  God  almighty.  And  Judas  ^lachabeus, 
which  was  Goddes  knight,  Avhan  he  schulde  fighte 
ayeinst  his  adversaries,  tlmt  hadde  a  gretter  nombre 
and  a  gretter  multitude  of  folk  and  strengere  than 
was  the  poeple  of  this  Machabc,  yit  he  reconforted 
his  litel  poeple,  and  sayde  ryght  in  this  wise :  As 
lightly,  quod  he,  may  oure  lord  God  almighty  yive 
victory  to  fcwe  folk,  as  to  mony  folkc ;  for  tlie 
victorie  of  batailles  cometh  nought  by  the  grate 
nombre  of  poeple,  but  it  cometh  fro  oure  lord 
God  of  heveii.     And,  dere  sire,  for  as  moche  as 


186  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

ther  is  no  man  certeyn,  if  it  be  worthi  that  God 
j-ive  him  \dctorie  or  nought,  after  that  that  Sala- 
mon  saith,  therfore  every  man  schulde  gretly  drede 
Averres  to  b}-gynne.  And  bycause  that  in  batailles 
fallo  many  mervayles  and  perilcs,  and  happeth 
other  while,  that  as  soone  is  the  grete  man  slayn 
as  the  litel  man ;  and,  as  it  is  writen  in  the  se- 
counde  book  of  Kynges,  the  deedes  of  batayles  be 
aventurous,  and  no  thing  certeyn,  for  as  lightly  is 
oon  hurt  with  a  spere  as  another  ;  and  for  ther  is 
gret  peril  in  werre,  therfore  schulde  a  man  fiee 
and  eschev/e  werre  in  as  moche  as  a  man  may 
goodly.  For  sotlihj  Salamon  saith  :  He  that  loveth 
peril,  schal  fallc  in  peril.' 

After  that  dame  Prudens  hadde  spoke  in  this 
manor,  Mellibe  answerde  and  sayde :  '  I  se  wel, 
dame,  that  by  j^oure  faire  Avordes  and  by  youre 
resouns,  that  ye  have  schewed  me,  that  the  werre 
liketh  yow  no  thing  ;  but  I  have  not  yit  herd  youre 
eounseil,  how  I  schal  doo  in  this  neede.'  'Certes,' 
quod  sche,  '  I  counseilc  yow  that  ye  accorde  with 
youre  adversaries,  and  that  ye  have  pees  Avith  hem. 
For  seint  Jame  saith  in  his  Epistles,  that  by  eon- 
cord  and  pees,  the  smalc  ryches  wexen  grete,  and 
by  debaat  and  discord  the  gret  richesses  fallen 
doun.  And  ye  knowe  Avel,  that  oon  of  the  moste 
grettest  and  soveraign  thinges  that  is  in  this  world, 
is  unite  and  pees.  And  therfore  saith  oure  lord 
Jhesu  Crist  to  his  aposteles  in  this  wise  •  Wel 
happy  and  blessed  be  thay  that  loven  and  pur- 
chaeen  pees,  for  thay  ben  called  children  of  GodJ 
'  A ! '  quod  Melibe, '  now  se  I  wel,  that  ye  loven  not 
myn  honour,  ne  my  worschipe.     And  ye  knoweth 


THE   TALE   OF   MELIBEUS.  187 

wel  that  myne  adversaries  han  bygonne  this  de- 
bate and  brige  by  here  outrage,  and  ye  see  Avel 
that  thay  require  ne  praye  me  not  of  pees,  ne  thay 
askyn  nought  to  be  recounseild ;   wol  ye  thanne 
that  I  goo  and  meke  me  unto  hem,  and  crie  hem 
mercy  ?     For  sothe  that  were  not  my  worschipo  ; 
for  right  as  men  seyn,  that  over  gret  pryde  en- 
gendreth  dispisyng,  so  fareth  it  by  to  gret  hum- 
blete  or  mckenes.'    Thanne  bygan  dame  Prudence 
to  make  sembkTnt  of  Avraththe,  and  sayde  :  '  Certes, 
sire,  save  youre  grace,  1  love  youre  honour  and 
youre  profyt  as  I  doo  myn  owne,  and  ever  have 
doon ;    ye  ne  mowe  noon  other  seyn ;   and  yit  if 
I  hadde  sayd,  yc  scholdc  have  purchaccd  pees  and 
the  reconciliacioun,  I  ne  hadde  not  moche  mystake 
in  me,  ne  seyd  amys.     For  the  wise  man  saith : 
The  discencioun  bigynneth  by  another  man,  and 
the  reconsilynge  bygynneth  by  thj-self.     And  the 
prophete  saith:    Flee  schame  and  schrewednesse 
and  doo  goodnesse ;    seeke  pees  and  folwe  it,  as 
moche  as  in  the  is.     Yet  seith  he  not,  that  ye 
schul  rather  pursewe  to  youre  adversaries  for  pees, 
than  thei  schul  to  yow ;  for  I  knowe  wel  that  ye 
be  so  hard-herted,  that  ye  wil  doo  no  thing  for  me  ; 
and  Salamon  saith :   He  that  is  over  hard-herted, 
attc  laste  he  schal  myshappe  and  mystyde.' 

Whan  Melibe  hadde  seyn  dame  Prudence  make 
semblaunce  of  wraththe,  he  sayde  in  this  wise  : 
*  Dame,  I  pray  yow  that  yc  be  not  displesed  of 
thinges  that  I  say,  for  ye  knoweth  wel  that  I  am 
angry  and  wroth,  and  that  is  no  wonder ;  and  thay 
that  ben  wroth,  wot  not  wel  what  thay  doon,  ne 
what  thay  saye.    Therforo  tlie  prophete  saith,  that 


188  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

troublit  cycn  have  no  cleer  sight.  But  sayeth  and 
counsaileth  me  forth  as  yow  liketh,  for  I  am  redy 
to  doo  right  as  jc  wol  desire.  And  if  ye  reprove 
me  of  my  folye,  I  am  the  more  holdc  to  love  j'ow 
and  to  praj'se  yow.  For  Salamon  saith,  that  he 
that  repreveth  him  that  doth  fohe,  he  sehal  fjmde 
gretter  grace  than  he  tliat  deceyveth  him  byswete 
wordes.'  Thanne  sayde  dame  Prudens  :  '  I  make 
no  semblant  of  wraththe  ne  of  anger,  but  for  youre 
grete  profyt.  For  Salamon  saith :  He  is  more 
worth  that  reproveth  or  chydeth  a  fool  for  his 
folie,  schewynge  him  semblant  of  wraththe,  than 
he  tliat  supporteth  him  and  praj'scth  him  in  his 
mysdoyng  and  laugheth  at  his  folie.  And  this 
same  Salamon  saith  afterward,  that  by  the  sorwe- 
ful  visage  of  a  man,  that  is  to  sayn,  by  sory  and 
hevy  countcnaunce  of  a  man,  the  fool  corrccteth 
himself  and  amendeth.'  Thanne  sayde  Melibeus  : 
'  I  sehal  not  conne  answere  to  so  many  faire  resoims 
as  ye  putten  to  me  and  schewcn ;  saj'eth  sehortly 
j^oure  wille  and  youre  counscil,  and  I  am  al  redy 
to  fulfiUe  and  parfourme  it.' 

Thanne  dame  Prudence  discovered  al  hire  coun- 
sail  and  hire  wille  unto  him  and  sayde :  '  I  coun- 
seile  yoAv,'  quod  sche,  '  above  alle  thingca,  that  ye 
make  pees  bitwen  God  and  yow,  and  beth  recon- 
siled  unto  him  and  to  his  grace ;  for  as  I  have 
sayd  yow  herbiforn,  God  hath  suffred  yow  have 
this  tribulacione  and  disease  for  youre  synnes;  and 
if  ye  do  as  I  say  yow,  God  avoI  sende  youre  ad- 
versaries unto  yow,  and  make  hem  felle  at  youre 
feet,  al  redy  to  doo  youre  Aville  and  youre  co- 
maundmcnt.     For  Salamon  saith:  Whan  the  con- 


THE   TALE   OF   MELIBEUS,  189 

dicioun  of  man  is  plesant  and  likyng  to  God,  he 
ehaungeth  the  hertes  of  the  mannes  adversaries, 
and  constreigneth  hem  to  biseke  him  of  pees  and 
of  grace.  And  I  pray  yow  let  me  speke  with  youre 
adversaries  in  prive  place,  for  thay  schiil  not 
knowe  it  by  youre  wille  or  5'oure  assent;  and 
thanne,  whan  I  knowe  here  wille  and  here  entent, 
I  may  eounseilo  yow  the  more  seurly.' 

'  Dame,'  quod  Melibeus,  '  doth  youre  wille  and 
youre  likyng,  for  I  putte  mo  holly  in  youre  dispo- 
sicioun  and  ordinaunce.'  Thanne  dame  Prudence, 
whan  sche  seih  the  good  Aville  of  hir  housbond, 
sche  deli^»ered  and  took  avis  by  hir-self,  thenkynge 
how  sche  mighte  bringe  this  neede  unto  good  con- 
clusioun  and  to  a  good  ende.  And  whan  sche 
saugh  hire  tyme,  sche  sente  for  these  adversaries 
to  come  unto  hire  into  a  prive  place,  and  schewed 
wysly  unto  hem  the  grete  goodes  that  comen  of 
pees,  and  the  grete  harmes  and  perils  that  ben  in 
werre ;  and  sayde  to  hem,  in  goodly  manere,  how 
that  hem  aughte  to  have  gret  repentaunco  of  the 
injurie  and  wrong  that  thay  hadde  doon  to  Melibe 
hire  lord,  and  unto  hire  and  hire  doughter.  And 
whan  thay  herdcn  the  goodly  wordcs  of  dame 
Prudence,  they  were  so  surprised  and  ravysschedj 
and  hadden  so  gret  joye  of  hire,  that  wonder  was 
to  telle.  '  A  !  lady,'  quod  thay, '  ye  have  schewed 
unto  us  the  blessyng  of  swetnes,  after  the  sawe  of 
David  the  prophetc ;  for  the  recounsilyng,  which 
we  be  nought  worthy  to  have  in  no  manere,  but 
we  oughten  require  it  Avith  gret  contricioun  and 
humilitd,  ye  of  youre  grete  goodnes  have  presented 
imto  us.     Now   we   se   wel,  that  the  science  of 


190  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

Salamon  is  ful  trewe  :  he  saith,  that  swete  wordes 
miiltiplien  and  encreseen  frendes,  and  maken 
sehrewes  to  ben  debonaire  and  meke.  Certcs,' 
quod  thay,  '  we  putten  oure  dcedc,  and  al  oure 
matier  and  cause,  al  holly  in  youre  good  wille,  and 
ben  redy  to  obeye  to  the  speche  and  to  the  co- 
maundement  of  my  lord  Melibe.  And  therfore, 
dcere  and  benigne  lady,  we  praye  yow  and  bj-seke 
yow,  as  meekely  as  we  conne  and  maye,  that  it  like 
to  yowre  grete  goodnes  to  fulfiUe  in  deede  yowre 
goodliche  w^ordes.  For  we  eonsidere  and  know- 
leche  wel  that  we  have  offended  and  greved  my 
lord  Melibe  out  of  resoun  and  out  of  mesure,  so 
ferforth  that  we  ben  nought  of  power  to  make  his 
amendes ;  and  therfore  we  oblige  us  and  bynde  us 
and  oure  frendes,  for  to  doo  al  his  wille  and  his 
comaundementz.  But  peraventure  he  hath  such 
hevynes  and  such  wraththe  to  iisward,  bycause  of 
cure  offence,  that  he  wol  enjoyne  us  such  peyne  as 
we  mowe  not  bare  ne  susteyne ;  and  therfore,  noble 
lady,  we  biseke  to  youre  w^ommanly  pite  to  take 
such  avysement  in  this  necde,  that  we,  ne  oure 
frendes,  ben  not  disherited  and  destroyed  thurgh 
oure  folye.'  '  Certes,'  quod  dame  Prudence,  *  it  is 
an  hard  thing,  and  right  a  perilous  that  a  man 
put  him  al  outrely  in  the  arbitracioun  and  jugge- 
ment  and  the  might  and  power  of  his  enemyes. 
For  Salamon  saith  :  Leeveth  me  and  yiveth  credence 
to  that  that  I  schal  say :  I  say,  quod  he,  ye  poeple, 
yefolke,  and  ye  governours  of  holy  chirche,  to  thy 
sone,  to  thi  wyf,  to  thy  frend,  ne  to  thy  brother, 
ne  yeve  thou  never  might  ne  maystry  of  thy  body, 
whil  thou  lyvest.     Now,  sith  he  defendith  that  a 


THE   TALE   OF  MELIBEUS.  191 

man  sehuldc  not  yive  to  his  brother,  no  to  his 
frend,  the  might  of  his  body,  by  a  stronger  resoun 
he  defendeth  and  forbedith  a  man  to  yive  his  body 
to  his  cnemye.  But  nathcles,  I  counseile  yow 
that  ye  mystruste  nought  my  lord ;  for  I  Avot  wel 
and  knowe  verraily,  that  he  is  debonaire  and  meke, 
large,  curte3's,  and  no  thing  desirous  ne  coveytous 
of  good  ne  richesse :  for  ther  is  no  thing  in  this 
world  that  he  desireth,  save  oonly  worsehipo  and 
lionour.  Forthermoro  I  knowe,  and  am  right 
seure,  that  he  wol  no  thing  doo  in  this  neede 
withoute  counsail  of  me  ;  and  I  schal  so  worche  in 
this  cause,  that  by  the  grace  of  oure  lord  God  ye 
schul  be  recounsiled  unto  us.'  Thanno  sayde  thay, 
with  oon  voys :  '  Worschipful  lady,  we  putte  us 
and  oure  goodes  al  fully  in  youre  Aville  and  disposi- 
cioun,  and  ben  redy  to  come,  Avhat  day  that  it  like 
yow  and  unto  youre  noblesse  to  limite  us  or  as- 
signe  us,  for  to  make  oure  obligacioun  and  bond, 
as  strong  as  it  liketh  to  youre  goodnes,  that  we 
mowe  fulfiUe  the  wille  of  yow  and  of  my  lord 
Melibe.'  Whan  dame  Prudence  had  herd  the  an- 
sweres  of  thise  men,  sche  bad  hem  go  agayn 
pryvely,  and  sche  rctourncde  to  hir  lord  Melibe, 
and  tolde  him  how  sche  fond  his  adversaries  ful 
repentant,  knowlechinge  ful  lowely  here  synnes 
and  trespasses,  and  how  thay  were  redy  to  suffre 
alle  peyne,  requiring  and  praying  him  of  mercy 
and  pite. 

Thanne  saide  Melibeus,  '  He  is  wel  worthy  to 
have  pardoun  and  foryevenes  of  his  synne,  that 
excusith  not  his  synne,  but  knowlecheth  and  re- 
pentith  him,  axinge  indulgence.     For  Senek  saith  : 


192  THE   CANTEEBURY   TALES. 

Ther  is  the  remissioun  and  foryevenesse,  wher  as 
the  confessioim  is ;  for  confessioun  is  ucighebor 
to  innocence.  And  he  saith  in  another  place, 
He  that  hath  schame  of  his  synne,  know- 
Icchith  it.  And  therfore  I  assente  and  con- 
ferme  me  to  have  pees,  but  it  is  good  that  we 
doo  it  nought  withoute  assent  and  the  wille  of 
cure  frendes.'  Thanne  Avas  Prudence  right  glad 
and  jolyf,  and  sayde  :  '  Certes,  sire,'  quod  sche, '  ye 
ben  wel  and  goodly  avysed ;  for  right  as  by  the 
counsail  and  assent  and  help  of  youre  frendes,  ye 
have  be  stired  to  vcnge  yow  and  make  werre,  right 
so  withouto  here  counseil  schul  ye  nought  acorde 
yow  no  have  pees  with  youre  adversaries.  For 
the  lawe  saith  :  Ther  nys  no  thing  so  good  by  way 
of  kinde,  as  thing  to  be  unbounde  by  him  that  it 
was  bounde.'  And  thanne  dame  Prudence,  with- 
oute  delay  or  taryinge,  sente  anoon  messageres  for 
here  kyn  and  for  here  olde  frendes,  Avhiche  that 
were  trewe  and  wyse ;  and  tolde  hem  by  ordre,  in 
the  presence  of  Melibe,  of  this  matier,  as  it  is 
above  expressed  and  declared  ;  and  praide  hem 
that  thay  wolde  yive  here  avys  and  counseil  what 
best  were  to  doon  in  this  matiere.  And  whan 
Melibeus  frendes  hadde  take  here  avys  and  de- 
liberacioun  of  the  forsayde  matier,  and  hadden 
examyned  it  by  greet  besynes  and  gret  diligence, 
they  yafe  him  ful  counsail  to  have  pees  and  reste, 
and  that  j\Ielibeus  sehuldc  with  good  hert  resceyve 
his  adversaries  to  foryivenes  and  mercy. 

And  whan  dame  Prudence  had  herd  thassent  of 
hir  lord  ]\Ielibeus,  and  counseil  of  his  frendes  ac- 
corde  with  hire  wille  and  hire  entencioun,  sche 


THE   TALE    OF   M-ELIBEUS.  193 

was  wondcrly  glad  in  herte,  and  sayde :  '  Tlicr  is 
an  olde  proverbe   that  saith,  the  goodncsse  that 
thou  maist  do  this   day  abyde  not  nc  delayo  it 
nought  unto  to  morwo ;  and  therfore  I  counseile 
yow  yc  sende  youre  messageres,  whichc  that  ben 
discrete  and  wise,  unto  youre  adversaries,  tellynge 
hem  on  youre  bihalve,  that  if  thay  wol  trete  of 
pees  and  of  accord,  that  thay  schape  hem  withoutc 
dilay  or  taryingo  to  come  unto  us/     Which  thing 
was  parformed  in  dede;   and  whan   these  tres- 
pasours  and  repentynge  folk  of  here  folics,  that  is 
to  sayn,  the  adversaries  of  Melibe,  hadden  herd 
what  the  messangeres  saydcn  unto  hem,  thay  \\'ere 
right  glad  and  jolif,  and  answcrdcn  ful  mckcly  and 
bcnignely,  yeldynge  graces  and  thankinges  to  here 
lord  ^lelibe,  and  to  al  his  compaignyo  ;  and  schopo 
hem  without  delay  to  go  with  the  messangeres, 
and  obeye  hem  to  the  comaundement  of  here  lord 
Melibe.     And  right  anoon  thay  token  here  way  to 
the  court  of  Melibe,  and  token  witli  hem  some  of 
here  trewe  frendes,  to  make  faith  for  hem,  and 
for  to  ben  here  borwcs.     And   whan  thay  were 
eoraen  to  the  presence  of  Melibeus,  he  scyde  hem 
thise  wordes :   '  It  stondith  thus,'  quod  Melibeus, 
'  and  soth  it  is,  that  ye  causeles,  and  withouten 
skile  and    rcsoun,  have   doon   gret   injuries  and 
wronges  to  me,  and  to  my  wyf  Prudence,  and  to 
my  doughter  also,  for  ye  have  entred  into  myu 
hous  by  violence,  and  have  doon  such  outrage,  that 
alle  men  knowe  wclle  that  ye  have  deserved  tho 
deth ;  and  therfore  wil  I  knowe  and  wite  of  yow, 
whether  ye  wol  putte  the  punyschment  and  the 
chastisement  and  the  vengcaunce  of  this  outrage, 

VOL.    Ill,  0 


194  THE  CANTEPxBUKY  TALES. 

in  the  wille  of  me  and  of  my  ^^yf,  dame  Prudence, 
or  ye  wil  not.'  Thanne  the  wisest  of  hem  thre 
answerde  for  hem  alle,  and  sayde :  *  Sire/  quod 
he,  '  we  knowe  v,-c\,  that  we  be  unworthy  to  come 
to  the  court  of  so  grct  a  lord  and  so  worthy  as  ye 
be,  for  M'c  han  so  grctly  mystake  us,  and  have 
offendid  and  glltid  in  such  a  wise  ageins  youre 
heighe  lordschipe,  that  trewely  we  have  deserved 
the  deth.  But  yit  for  the  greetc  goodnes  and 
debonairete  that  al  the  world  witnesseth  of  youre 
persone,  we  submitton  us  to  the  hike  excellence  and 
benignite  of  youre  gracious  lordschipe,  and  ben  redy 
to  obeye  to  alle  youre  comaundementz,  bisekynge 
yow  that  of  youre  merciable  pite  ye  wol  considre 
oure  grete  repentaunce  and  lowe  submissioun,  and 
graunte  us  foryivencs  of  oure  outrage,  trespas, 
and  offence.  For  ■s^'el  we  knoAven,  that  youre 
liberal  grace  and  mercy  strechen  forthere  into 
goodnesso  than  doth  oure  outrage,  gilt,  and 
trespas,  into  wikkednes;  al  bo  it  that  cursedly 
and  dampnably  we  have  agilt  ayeinst  youre  highe 
lordschipe.'  Thanne  j\Ielibe  took  hem  up  fro  the 
ground  ful  benignely,  and  resceyved  here  obliga- 
ciouns,  and  here  Sondes,  by  here  othes  upon  here 
plegges  and  borwes,  and  assigned  hem  a  certeyn 
day  to  retourne  unto  his  coiu't  for  to  aecepte  and 
receyvo  the  sentence  and  juggement  that  Melibe 
wolde  comaunde  to  be  doon  on  hem,  by  these 
causes  aforn  saj'de ;  which  thing  ordeyned,  every 
man  retourned  home  to  his  hous.  And  whan  that 
dame  Prudence  saugh  hire  tyme,  sche  freyned  and 
axed  hire  lord  Melibe,  what  vengeance  he  thoughte 
to  take  upon  his  adversaries.     To  which  SleUbeus 


THE  TALE   OF  MELIBEUS.  195 

answerd  and  saide:  '  Certes/  quod  he,  'I  thenko 
and  purpose  me  fully  to  disherite  hem  of  al  that 
ever  thay  have,  and  for  to  putte  hem  in  exil  for 
evermore.' 

'  Cartes/  quod  damo  Prudence,  '  this  were  a 
cruel  sentence,  and  mochil  ajeinst  resoun.  For 
ye  ben  riche  y-nough,  and  have  noon  neede  of 
other  menncs  good;  and  ye  mightc  lightly  gcte 
yow  a  coveitous  name,  which  is  a  vicious  thing, 
and  oughte  to  ben  eschewed  of  every  man ;  for 
after  the  sawe  of  thapostil,  covetise  is  roote  of  alle 
harmes.  And  therfore  it  were  bettre  for  yow  to 
lesc  so  moche  good  of  youre  oughne,  than  for  to 
take  of  here  good  in  this  manere.  For  bettir  it  is 
to  lese  good  with  worschipe,  than  it  is  to  wynne 
good  with  vilonye  and  schame.  And  ever_y  man 
oughte  to  do  his  diligence  and  his  busynesse,  to 
gete  him  a  good  name.  And  yit  shed  he  not  only 
besy  hym  in  kepynge  of  Ms  gode  name,  but  he  schulde 
(dso  enforce  him  alway  to  do  som  thing,  by  Avhich 
he  may  renovele  his  good  name ;  for  it  is  writen, 
that  the  olde  goode  loos  of  a  man  is  soone  done  or 
goon  and  passed,  whan  it  is  not  ncwed  ne  renoveled. 
And  as  touchinge  that  ye  sayn,  that  ye  wol  exile 
youre  adversaries,  that  thinketh  me  mochil  ayeinsfc 
resoun,  ^nd  out  of  mesure ;  considerith  the  power 
that  thay  han  yyve  to  yow  upon  here  body  and  on 
hem-self.  And  it  is  Avriten,  that  he  is  worthy  to 
lese  his  privelege,  that  mysuseth  the  might  and 
the  power  that  is  yeve  to  him.  And  yit  I  sette 
the  caas,  ye  mighte  enjoync  hem  that  peyne  by 
right  and  lawe  (which  I  trowe  ye  mowe  nought 
do),  I  say,  ye  mighte  nought  putte  it  to  execu- 


1 


196  THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 

cioim  pcravcnture,  and  thanne  were  it  likly  to 
torne  to  tho  werre,  as  it  was  biforn.  And  ther- 
fore  if  ye  wol  that  men  do  yow  obeissaunce,  ye 
mosto  dome  more  curteisly,  that  is  to  sayn,  ye 
moste  yivc  more  esyere  sentence  and  juggcment. 
For  it  is  writen :  He  that  most  curteysly  co- 
maundeth,  to  him  men  most  obeyen.  And  ther- 
fore  I  pray  yow,  that  in  this  necessite  and  in  this 
necde  ye  caste  yow  to  overcome  youre  herte.  For 
Senek  saith,  he  that  overcometh  liis  herte,  over- 
cometh  twyes.  And  TuUius  saith :  Ther  is  no 
thing  so  comendable  in  a  gret  lord,  as  whan  he  is 
dcbonairc  and  meeke,  and  appesith  him  hghtly. 
And  I  pray  yow,  that  yc  wol  fbrbcrc  now  to  do 
vengeaunce,  in  such  a  manere,  that  youre  goode 
name  may  be  kept  and  conserved,  and  that  men 
mowe  have  cause  and  matiere  to  prayse  yow  of 
pite  and  of  mercy,  and  that  ye  have  noon  cause  to 
repente  yow  of  thing  that  ye  doon.  For  Sencc 
saith :  He  overcometh  in  an  evel  manere,  that  re- 
penteth  him  of  his  victorie.  Wherfore  I  pray  yow 
let  mercy  bo  in  youre  herte,  to  theffect  and 
thentent,  and  God  almighty  have  mercy  and  pite 
upon  yow  in  his  laste  juggement.  For  seint  Jame 
saith  in  his  Ej^istil:  juggement  withoute  mercy 
schal  be  doon  to  him,  that  liath  no  mercy  upon 
another  wight.' 

Whan  ]\Ielibe  had  herd  the  grcte  skiles  and 
resouns  of  dame  Prudens,  and  hir  wys  informa- 
cioun  and  techynge,  his  herte  gan  cnclyne  to  the 
wille  of  his  wyf,  considcryng  hir  trewe  entent, 
conformed  him  anoon  and  consented  fully  to  werke 
after  hir  reed  and  counseil,  and  thankid  God,  of 


THE  TALE   OF  MELIBEUS.  197 

whom  procedeth  al  goodnes,  that  him  sente  a  wif 
of  so  gret  discreciomi.  And  whan  the  day  cam 
that  his  adversaries  schulden  apperc  in  his  pre- 
sence, he  spak  to  hem  ful  goodly,  and  sayde  in 
this  wise :  '  Al  be  it  so,  that  of  youre  pryde  and 
heigh  presumpcioun  and  folye,  and  of  youre  negli- 
gence and  unconnynge,  ye  have  mysbore  yow,  and 
trespassed  unto  me,  yit  forasmoche  as  I  se  and 
biholde  youre  humilite,  that  ye  ben  sory  and  re- 
pentaunt  of  youre  giltes,  hit  constreigneth  me  to  do 
yow  grace  and  mercy.  Wherfore  I  recep-e  yow 
to  my  grace,  and  foryeve  yow  outerly  alle  the 
offenses,  injuries,  and  wrongcs,  that  ye  have  don 
to  me  and  agayns  me  and  myne,  to  this  effect  and 
to  this  ende,  that  God  of  his  endelcs  mercy  wole 
at  the  tyme  of  ourc  deyinge  foryive  us  oure  giltes, 
that  we  have  trespased  to  him  in  this  wrecchid 
world ;  for  douteks  and  we  ben  sory  and  repent- 
aunt  of  the  synnes  and  giltes  whiche  we  have 
trespassed  inne  in  the  sight  of  oure  lord  God,  he 
is  so  free  and  so  merciable,  that  he  wil  foryive  us 
oure  gultes,  and  bringe  us  to  the  blisse  that  never 
hath  ende.'    Amen. 


198  THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


THE  PROLOGE  OF  THE  MONKES  TALE. 

;HAN  ended  was  my  tale  of  Melibe, 
And  of  Prudence  and  hire  benignite, 
Oure  Hoste  sayde,  'As  I  am  faithful  man, 
And  by  the  precious  corpus  Madryan! 
I  hadde  lever  than  a  barcl  ale 
That  gode  lecf  my  wyf  had  herd  this  tale. 
For  sche  is  no  thing  of  such  paciencc 
As  was  this  Melibeus  wyf  dame  Prudence. 
By  Goddes  boones  !  whan  I  bete  my  knaves, 
Sche  bringeth  me  forth  the  grete  clobbet  staves, 
And  crieth,  '  slee  the  dogges  every chon  !  ii 

And  brckc  of  hem  bothe  bale  and  bon  ! ' 
And  if  that  eny  neghebour  of  myne 
Wol  nought  to  my  wyf  in  ehirche  enclync, 
Or  be  so  hardy  to  hir  to  trespace, 
Whan  sche  comth  horn,  sche  rampcth  in  my  face, 
And  crieth,  '  false  coward,  wreke  thy  wyf ! 
By  corp2;s  bones  !  I  wil  have  thy  knyf, 
And  thou  schalt  have  my  distaf  and  go  spynne.' 
Fro  day  to  night  right  thus  sche  wil  bygynne  ;    2c 
'  Alias  ! '  sche  saith,  '  that  ever  I  was  i-schape, 
To  weddc  a  mjlk-sop  or  a  coward  ape. 
That  wil  be  over-lad  with  every  wight ! 
Thou  darst  nought  stonde  by  thy  wyves  right.' 
This  is  my  lif,  but  if  that  I  wil  fighte ; 
And  out  attc  dore  anoon  I  mostc  me  dightc, 


PROLOGE   OF   THE   MONKES    TALE.       199 

And  ellis  I  am  lost,  but-if  that  I 

Be,  lik  a  wilde  leoun,  fool-hardy. 

I  wot  wel  sche  wol  do  me  sle  som  day 

Som  neighebor,  and  thanne  renne  away.  so 

For  I  am  perilous  with  knyf  in  honde, 

A\  be  it  that  I  dar  not  hir  withstonde. 

For  sche  is  big  in  armes,  by  my  faith ! 

That  schal  he  fynde  that  hire  mysdoth  or  saith. 

But  let  us  passe  away  fro  this  matiere. 

My  lord  sir  monk,'  quod  he,  '  be  mery  of  ehere, 

For  ye  schul  telle  a  tale  trewelj^ 

Lo,  Rowchestre  stant  hecr  faste  by. 

Ryde  forth,  myn  oughnc  lord,  brek  nought  ourc 

game ! 
But,  by  my  trouthe,  I  can  not  youre  name ;         40 
AVhether  schal  I  callc  yow  my  lord  dan  Joluin, 
Or  daun  Thomas,  or  cllcs  dan  Albon  ? 
Of  what  hous  be  ye,  by  your  fader  kyn  ? 
I  vow  to  God  thou- hast  a  ful  fair  skyn  ! 
It  is  a  gen  til  pasture  ther  thou  gost ; 
Thow  art  not  like  a  penaunt  or  a  goost. 
Upon  my  faith,  thou  art  an  officer, 
Som  Avorthy  sexteyn,  or  some  celerer ; 
For,  by  my  fader  soule,  as  to  my  doom, 
Thou  art  a  maister  whan  thou  art  at  hooni,  50 

No  pover  cloj-sterer,  no  non  no\ys. 
But  a  governour  a  wily  and  wys ; 
And  therwithal  of  brawne  and  of  bones 
A  wel  faryng  persone  for  the  noones. 
I  praye  God  yive  him  confusioun, 
That  first  the  broughte  to  religioun  ! 
Thow  woldist  han  be  a  trede-foul  aright ; 
Haddist  thou  as  grct  love  as  thou  'hast  might 


200  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

To  parforme  al  thi  wil  in  engendrure, 
Thow  haddist  bigeten  many  a  creature.  eo 

Alias  !  why  werest  thou  so  Avyd  a  cope  ? 
God  yif  me  sorwe  !  and  I  were  a  pope, 
Nought  only  thou,  but  every  mighty  man, 
Though  he  were  schore  brode  upon  his  pan, 
Schuld  han  a  wif  ;  for  al  this  world  is  lorn ; 
Religioun  hath  take  up  al  the  corn 
Of  tredyng,  and  we  burel  men  ben  schrympcs ; 
Of  feble  trees  ther  cometh  feble  ympcs. 
This  makith  that  oure  heires  ben  so  sclendere 
And  feble,  that  thay  maye  not  wel  engenders      70 
This  makith  that  our  wyfes  wol  assaye 
Religious  folk,  for  thay  may  bettre  payc 
Of  Venus  payementes  than  maye  we. 
God  woot,  no  lusseheburghos  paye  ye  ! 
But  bcth  nought  wroth,  my  lorde,  though  I  playe, 
l^ul  oft  in  game  a  soth,  I  have  herd  saye.' 
This  worthy  Monk  took  al  in  pacience, 
And  saide,  *  I  wol  doon  al  my  diligence, 
Als  fcr  as  souncth  into  honeste, 
To  telle  yow  a  tale,  or  tuo  or  thre ;  so 

And  if  yow  lust  to  herken  hider-ward, 
I  wil  yow  saye  the  lif  of  seint  Edward, 
Or  dies  first  tre^/edis  wil  I  yow  telle, 
Of  which  I  have  an  hundred  in  my  ccUc. 
Tregedis  is  to  sayn  a  eerteyn  storie. 
As  olde  bookes  maken  us  memorie, 
Of  hem  that  stood  in  greet  prospcrite. 
And  is  7/-fallen  out  of  heigh  degre 
Into  miserie,  and  cndith  wreechedly; 
And  thay  ben  versifyed  comunly  90 

Of  sixe  feet,  which  men  clepe  exametron. 


THE  MOXKES   TALE.  201 

In  proso  ben  eek  endited  many  oon ; 

In  metre  eek,  in  momj  a  sondry  wise ; 

Lo,  this  declaryng  ought  y-nough  suffiso. 

Now  herkneth,  if  yow  likith  for  to  heere ; 

But  first  I  yow  biseche  in  this  matiere, 

Though  I  by  ordre  telle  not  thise  thingcs, 

Be  it  of  popes,  empcrours,  or  kj-nges. 

After  her  age,  as  men  may  write?i  fynde, 

But  telle  hem  som  bifore  and  som  byhynde,       loo 

As  it  Cometh  now  to  my  remembraunce, 

Haveth  me  excused  of  mjn  ignoraunce. 


THE  MONKES  TALE. 

WOL  bywaile,  in  manor  of  trcgcdyc, 
The  harm  of  hem  that  stood  in  heigh 

dcgre, 
And  fallen  so  ther  is  no  remedyc 
To  bring  hem  out  of  her  adversite'; 
For  certeynly,  whan  fortune  lust  to  flee, 
Ther  may  no  man  the  cours  of  hir  whiel  holde ; 
Let  no  man  truste  in  blynd  prosperite', 
Beth  war  by  these  cnsamples  trewe  and  olde. 

LUCrPER. 

At  Lucifer,  though  he  an  aungil  were. 
And  7io(jht  a  man,  at  him  wil  I  bygynne ;  lo 

For  though  fortune  may  non  aungcl  derc. 
From  heigh  dcgre  yit  fel  he  for  his  synne 
Doun  into  helle,  Avher  as  he  yet  is  inne. 


202  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

0  Lucifer  !  brightest  of  aungels  alle, 

Now  art  thou  Sathanas,  thou  maist  nought  tv>'ynne 

Out  of  miserie  in  which  thou  art  falle. 

ADAM. 

Lo  Adam,  in  the  feld  of  Damassene 
^Yith  Goddes  oughne  fynger  wrought  was  he, 
And  nought  bigctcn  of  mannes  sperma  luielene, 
And  welt  al  paradys,  savyng  oon  tre.  20 

Hadde  never  worldly  man  suche  degre 
As  Adam,  til  he  for  mysgovernance 
"Was  dryven  out  of  heigh  prosperitc, 
To  labour,  and  to  hclle,  and  to  meschaunce. 

SAMPSON". 

Lo  (Sampson,  whiche  that  was  annunciate 
By  thangcl,  long  cr  his  nativitc. 
And  was  to  God  Almighty  consecrate. 
And  stood  in  nobles  whil  that  he  mighte  se. 
Was  never  such  another  as  was  ho. 
To  speke  of  strength,  and  therto  hardynesse  ;      so 
But  to  his  wyfes  told  he  his  secre, 
Thurgh  which  he  slough  himself  for  wrecchidnessc. 

Sampson,  this  noble  and  myhty  champioun, 
Witliouten  wepen  save  his  hondes  tueye, 
He  slowlie  and  al  to-rente  the  lyonn 
To-ward  his  iveddynge  walhinge  he  the  waie. 
The  false  ivif  coiithe  him  plese  and  preie 
Til  sche  his  counseile  hiewe,  and  sche,  nnireire, 
Unto  his  foos  his  counsel  gan  hewreyc, 
And  him  for-sohe,  and  toTce  another  newe.  40 

Thre  hundred  foxis  took  Sampson  for  ire. 
And  alle  her  tayles  he  togider  bond  * 


THE   MONKES    TALE.  203 

And  sette  the  foxes  tailes  alle  on  fuyre, 
For  he  in  every  tail  hath  knyt  a  brond  ; 
And  thay  brent  alle  the  cornes  of  that  lond, 
And  alle  her  olyvers  and  vynes  eeke. 
A  thousand  men  he  slough  eek  with  his  hond, 
And  hadde  no  wepen  but  an  asses  eheeke. 

Whan  thay  were  slaj^n,  so  thursted  him  that  he 
Was  wel  ner  lorn,  for  which  ho  gan  to  preye       oo 
That  God  wolde  of  his  peyne  have  som  pite, 
And  send  him  drynk,  and  ellcs  most  he  deyc. 
And  out  of  this  asses  cheke,  that  was  so  dreye, 
Out  of  a  woung-toth  sprong  anon  a  welle, 
Of  Avhich  he  dronk  j-nough,  schortly  to  seyc ; 
Thus  halp  him  God,  as  Judicum  can  telle. 

liy  vcrray  fors  at  Algason,  on  a  night, 
Maugre  the  Philistiens  of  that  cite, 
The  gates  of  the  toun  he  hath  up  plight, 
And  on  his  bak  caried  hem  hath  he,  co 

Heigh  upon  an  hil,  wher  men  might  hem  sc. 
0  noble  almighty  Sampson,  leef  and  decre, 
Haddest  thou  nought  to  wommen  told  thy  score', 
In  al  the  world  ne  hadde  tJier  be  thy  peere. 

This  Sampson  neyther  siser  dronk  ne  w}n, 
Ne  on  his  heed  com  rasour  noon  ne  schere. 
By  precept  of  the  messager  divyn. 
For  alle  his  strcngthes  in  his  heres  were. 
And  fully  twenty  wyulcr,  yer  by  ycre, 
He  hadde  of  Israel  the  governaimce.  70 

But  soone  he  schal  wcpe  many  a  teere, 
For  wymmcn  schuln  him  bringe  to  meschaunee. 

Unto  his  lemman  Dalida  he  tolde 
That  in  his  heres  al  his  strengthe  lay ; 
A.nd  falsly  to  his  foomon  sche  him  solde, 


204  THE  CANTERBURY   TALES. 

And  slepyng  in  liir  barm  upon  a  day 

Sche  made  to  clippe  or  schere  his  hercs  away, 

And  made  his  foomen  al  his  craft  espien. 

And  whan  thay  fonde  him  in  this  array, 

They  bound  him  fast,  and  put  out  botho  his  yen. 

But  er  his  heer  was  clipped  or  i-schave, .         81 
Therwas  no  bond  with  which  men  might  himbj-nde; 
But  now  is  he  in  prisoun  in  a  cave, 
Ther  as  thay  made  him  at  the  querne  grynde. 
0  noble  Sampson,  strengcst  of  al  mankynde  ! 
0  whilom  jugge  in  glory  and  in  richesse  ! 
Now  maystow  wepe  Avith  thine  eyghen  blyndc, 
Sith  thou  fro  welc  art  falle  in  wrecchednesse  ! 

Thcnd  of  this  caytif  was,  as  I  schal  saye, 
His  foomen  made  a  fcst  upon  a  dayt',  oo 

And  made  him  as  here  fool  biforn  hem  playc ; 
And-  this  was  in  a  temple  of  grot  arraye ; 
But  atte  last  he  made  a  foul  affray. 
For  he  two  pilers  schook,  and  made  hem  falle, 
And  doun  fel  temple  and  al,  and  ther  it  lay, 
And  slough  himsilf  and  eek  his  fomen  alle ; 

That  is  to  sayn,  the  princes  everichon ; 
And  eek  thre  thousand  bodies  were  ther  slayn 
With  fallyng  of  the  grete  temple  of  stoon. 
Of  Sampson  now  ne  wil  I  no  more  sayn ;  loo 

Be  war  by  these  ensamples,  olde  and  i^layn,. 
That  no  man  telle  his  counseil  to  his  wyf, 
Of  such  thing  as  he  wold  have  secre  fayn, 
If  that  it  touche  his  lymes  or  his  lif. 

DE    ERCI7LE. 

Of  Ercules,  the  sovereyn  conquerour, 
Singm  his  werkes  laude  and  heigh  renoun ; 


THE   MO^^KES   TALE.  205 

For  in  his  tyme  of  strength  he  bar  the  flour. 

He  slough  and  rafte  the  skyn  fro  the  leoun ; 

He  of  Centaures  layde  the  host  adoun ; 

He  Arpies  slough,  the  cruel  briddes  felle ;  no 

The  gold  appul  he  raft  fro  the  dragoun ; 

He  drof  out  Cerbures  the  houncle  of  helle ; 

He  slough  the  cruel  tyrant  Buserus, 
And  made  his  hors  to  frete  him  fleisch  and  boon ; 
He  slough  the  verray  serpent  vene??zous ; 
Of  Ac/iiloyus  tuo  homes  he  raft  oon  ; 
He  slough  Cacus  in  a  cave  of  stoon  ; 
He  slough  the  geaunt  Anions  the  stronge : 
He  slough  the  grisly  bore,  and  that  anoon ; 
And  bar  the  hcocne  upon  his  nccke  longe.  120 

Was  never  wight,  siththen  the  world  bigan, 
That  slough  so  many  monstres  as  dede  he ; 
Thurghout  the  wide  world  his  name  ran. 
What  for  his  strengths  and  for  his  heighe  bountu. 
And  every  roialme  went  he  for  to  se ; 
He  was  so  strong,  ther  mighte  no  man  him  lette. 
At  bothe  the  worldes  endes,  as  saith  the  Trophe, 
In  stede  of  boundes  he  a  piler  sette. 

A  lemman  hadde  this  noble  campioun, 
That  highte  Dejanire,  freissh  as  May ;  130 

And  as  these  clerkes  maken  mencioun, 
Sche  hath  him  sent  a  schurte  fresch  and  gay. 
Alas  !  this  schirt,  alias  and  wailaway  ! 
Envenymed  was  suht'ihj  withalle, 
That  er  he  hadde  wered  it  half  a  day. 
It  made  his  fleisch  al  fro  his  bones  falle. 
But  natheles  som  clerkes  hir  excusen, 
.  By  oon  that  highte  Nessus,  that  liad  it  makyd. 
Be  as  be  may,  I  wil  nought  hir  accusyn ; 


20G  THE  CANTERBURY   TALES. 

But  on  his  bak  he  werede  this  schirt  al  nakyd,  no 
Til  that  his  fleiseh.was  for  the  venym  blaked. 
And  whan  he  saiigh  noon  other  rcmedye, 
In  hote  colis  he  hath  himself  i-raked ; 
For  icith  no  venym  deyned  him  to  dye. 

Thus  starf  this  mighty  and  worthy  Ercules. 
Lo  !  who  may  truste  fortune  eny  thro  we  ? 
For  him  that  folwcth  al  this  world  of  pres, 
Er  he  be  war,  is  oft  y-layd  ful  lowe. 
Ful  wys  is  he  that  can  himselven  knowe  ! 
Be  war,  for  whan  that  fortune  lust  to  glosc,       iso 
Than  waytith  sche  hir  man  to  ovcrthrowe, 
By  suche  way  as  he  wolde  lest  suppose. 

DE    EEGE    NABTJGODONOSOE. 

The  mighty  trone,  the  precious  tresor, 

The  glorious  eeptre  and  real  mageste, 

That  hadde  the  king  Nabugodonosore, 

"With  tonge  unnethes  may  descryved  be. 

He  twyes  wan  Jerusalem  that  cite  ; 

The  vessel  out  of  the  temple  he  with  him  ladde ; 

At  Babiloyne  was  his  sovereyn  see, 

In  which  his  glorie  and  his  delyt  he  hadde.        leo 

The  fairest  children  of  the  blood  roial 
Of  Israel  he  dede  do  gelde  anoon, 
And  made  ylk  of  hem  to  ben  his  thral ; 
Amonges  othre  Daniel  was  eon. 
That  was  the  wisest  child  of  everychoon  ; 
For  he  the  dremes  of  the  king  expounede, 
Ther  as  in  Caldeyn  was  tlier  clerkes  noon 
That  wiste  to  what  fyn  his  dremes  souncd<?. 

This  proude  king  let  make  a  statu  of  gold, 
Sixty  cubitcs  long  and  seven  in  brede,  170 


THE  MONKES  TALE.  207 

To  which  ymage  bothe  yonge  and  olde 
Comaunded  he  to  love  and  have  in  drede, 
Or  in  a  fornays  ful  of  flames  rede 
He  schulde  be  brent  that  wolde  not  obeye. 
But  never  wolde  assente  to  that  dede 
Danyel  ne  his  yonge  felawes  tweye. 

This  king  of  kinges  proucZe  was  and  elate ; 
He  Avende  God  that  sit  in  mayeste 
Ne  might  him  nought  bircve  of  his  estate. 
But  sodeynly  he  left  his  dignite,  ]8J 

I-lik  a  best  him  semede  for  to  be, 
And  eet  hay  as  an  oxe,  and  lay  ther-outc 
In  rayn,  -\vith  Avildc  bestes  walkyd  he, 
Til  certcin  tyme  was  i-eome  aboute. 

And  lik  an  cglis  fetheres  were  his  heres, 
His  hondes  like  a  briddes  elowes  were, 
Til  God  relessed  him  a  certeyn  yeres. 
And  yaf  him  witte,  and  thanne  Avith  many  a  tore 
He  thankede  God,  and  ever  he  is  afere 
To  doon  amys  or  more  to  trespace.  i'.o 

And  er  that  tyme  he  layd  was  on  his  here, 
He  knew  wel  God  A\as  ful  of  might  and  grace. 

DALinAZAE. 

His  sone,  which  that  highte  Balthazar, 
That  huld  the  regne  after  his  foder  day. 
He  by  his  fader  couthe  nought  be  war, 
For  proud  he  Avas  of  hert  and  of  array ; 
And  eek  an  ydolaster  Avas  he  ay. 
His  heigh  astate  assured  him  in  pryde ; 
But  fortune  cast  him  doun,  and  tlicr  ho  la)-, 
And  sodeynly  his  regne  gan  diA'ide.  ioo 

A  fest  he  made  unto  his  lordes  alle 


208  THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 

Upon  a  tyme,  and  made  hem  blithe  be ; 

And  than  his  officeres  gan  he  calle, 

'  Goth,  bringcth  forth  the  vcsscalx,'  quod  he, 

*  The  which  my  fader  in  his  prosperite 

Out  of  the  temple  of  Jerusalem  byrafte ; 

And  to  oure  hihc  goddis  thanke  we 

Of  honours  that  oure  eldres  with  us  lafte !' 

His  wif,  his  lordes,  and  his  concubines 
Ay  dronken,  whiles  her  arriont  laste,  210 

Out  of  this  noble  vesseals  sondry  wynos. 
And  on  a  wal  this  king  his  yhen  east, 
And  saugh  an  bond  armies,  that  \\xoot  fid  faste; 
For  fere  of  which  ho  quook  and  sikede  sore. 
This  bond,  that  Balthazar  so  sore  agaste, 
Wrot,  Mane,  techel,  phares^  and  no  more. 

In  al  the  lond  magicien  was  ther  noon 
That  couthe  expounde  what  this  lettre  ment^. 
But  Daniel  expoundith  it  anoon, 
And  sayde,  '  King,  God  to  thy  flider  sente  220 

Glori  and  honour,  regne,  tresor,  and  rente ; 
And  he  was  proud,  and  nothing  God  ne  dredde. 
And  therfor  God  gret  wreche  upon  him  sente, 
And  him  birafte  the  regne  that  he  hadde. 

'  He  was  out  cast  of  mannes  compaignye. 
With  asses  was  his  habitacioun. 
And  eet  he  hay  in  wet  and  eek  in  drye. 
Til  that  he  knew  by  grace  and  by  resoun 
That  God  of  heven  hadde  dominacioun 
Over  every  regne  and  every  creature ;  230 

And  than  hadcfe  God  of  him  compassioun, 
And  him  restoredc  to  his  regne  and  his  figure. 

'  Eke  thou  that  art  his  sone  art  proud  also, 
And  knowest  al  this  thing  so  verrayly, 


THE  MOKKES  TALE.  209 

And  art  rebel  to  God  and  art  his  fo ; 

Thou  dronkc  cck  of  his  vessel  bodily, 

Thy  wyf  eek  and  thy  wenches  sinfully 

Dronkc  of  the  same  vessel  sondry  wynes ; 

And  heriest  false  goddcs  cursedly ; 

Therfore  to  the  schajjen  ful  grct  pyne  es.  I'lo 

'  This  hond  was  send  fro  God,  that  on  the  wal 
Wrot,  Mane,  tccliel,  phares,  truste  me. 
Thy  regne  is  doon,  thou  we^ist  nought  at  al ; 
Dividid  is  thy  regne,  and  it  schal  bo 
To  Meedes  and  to  Perses  yevcn,'  quod  he. 
And  thilke  same  night,  the  king  was  slawe, 
And  Darius  occupied  his  degre, 
Though  therto  neyther  had  he  right  nc  lawc. 

Lordyngs,  cnsample  hcr-by  maye  ye  take, 
How  that  in  lordsehip  is  no  sikernesse ;  I'oo 

For  whan  fortune  wil  a  man  forsake, 
Schc  bereth  away  his  regne  and  his  riehesse, 
And  eek  his  frendes  bothe  more  and  lesse. 
And  what  man  hath  of  frendes  the  fortune, 
'Mishap  wil  make  hem  enemyes,  I  gesse ; 
This  proverbe  is  ful  sothe  and  ful  comune. 

ZENOBIA. 

Cenobia,  of  Palmire  the  qucene, 
As  writen  Perciens  of  liir  noblesse, 
So  worthy  Avas  in  armes  and  so  keene, 
That  no  wight  passed  hir  in  hardynessc,  200 

Ke  in  lynage,  ne  in  other  gentilcsse. 
Of  the  kinges  blood  of  Pers  sehe  is  desecndid  ; 
I  say  not  that  sche  hadde  most  fairnesse. 
But  of  hir  schap  sche  might  not  be  amendid. 
Fro  hir  childhod  I  fyndc  that  sche  fledd^) 

VOL.    III.  P 


210  THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 

Office  of  wommen,  and  to  woocle  sche  went(^, 
And  many  a  wilde  hertes  blood  sche  schedde 
With  arwes  brode  that  sche  to  hem  sente ; 
Sche  Avas  so  swyft,  that  sche  anoon  hem  hent^. 
And  whan  that  sche  was  elder,  sche  wolde  kille 
Leouns,  lebardes,  and  beres  al  to-rentc,  211 

And  in  hir  armes  weld  hem  at  hir  wille. 

Sche  dorste  wildc  bestes  dennes  seke, 
And  rcnne  in  tlie  mountcyns  al  the  night, 
And  slepc  under  a  biissh ;  and  sche  couthc  oeke 
WrastiHe  by  verray  fors  and  verray  might 
With  cny  yong  man,  were  he  never  so  wight, _ 
Thcr  mighte  no  thing  in  hir  armes  stonde. 
She  kept  hir  maydenhed  from  every  wight ; 
To  no  man  deyned  hire  for  to  be  bondo.  28O 

But  atte  last  hir  frcndes  han  hir  maried 
To  Odenake,  a  prince  of  that  citee, 
Al  were  it  so  that  sche  him  longe  taricd. 
And  ye  schul  understondc  how  that  he 
Hadcfe  suche  fantasies  as  hadde  sche. 
But  nathelcs,  whan  thay  were  knyt  in  fere, 
Thay  Ij'ved  in  joj-e  and  in  felicite ; 
For  ech  of  hem  had  other  leef  and  deere. 

Save  oon  thing,  sche  wolde  never  assents 
By  no  way  that  he  schulde  by  hir  lye  290 

But  ooncs,  for  it  was  hir  playn  entente 
To  have  a  child  the  world  to  multiplie ; 
And  also  soone  as  she  that  might  aspye 
That  sche  was  not  with  childe  yit  in  dede, 
Than  woldt^  sche  suffrc  him  doon  his  fantasio 
Eftsoncs,  and  nought  but  ooncs,  out  of  drede. 

And  if  sche  were  with  child  at  thilkc  cast, 
No  more  schuld  he  playe  thilke  game, 


THE  MONKES   TALE.  2U 

Til  fully  fourly  dayes  were  y-past, 

Than  -woldc  schc  sufFrc  him  to  do  the  same.        300 

Al  were  this  Odonakc  wildc  or  tame, 

He  gat  no  more  of  hir,  for  thus  sche  sayde, 

Hit  nas  but  wyves  Iccchery  and  schame, 

In  other  caas  if  that  men  with  hem  pla3'de. 

Tuo  sonos  by  this  Odenak  hadde  sche, 
The  Avhich  sche  kept  in  vertu  and  lettrure. 
But  now  unto  our  purpos  torne  we  ; 
I  say,  so  worschipful  a  creature, 
And  wys,  thcnvith,  and  large  with  mesure, 
So  penyble  in  the  werre  and  curtcys  ceke,  oio 

Ne  more  labour  might  in  werre  endure, 
Was  nowher  noon  in  ul  this  world  to  seeko. 

Hir  riche  array,  if  it  mighte  be  told, 
As  wel  in  vessel  as  in  hir  clothing, 
Sche  was  al  clothed  in  perre  and  gold ; 
And  cek  sche  lafte  nought  for  hir  huntyng 
To  have  of  sondr}-  tonges  ful  knowing ; 
Whan  sche  hadde  leyser  and  mighte  therto  entendc, 
To  lerne  bookes  was  al  hir  likyng, 
How  sche  in  vertu  might  hir  lif  dcsponrZe.  320 

And  schortly  of  this  story  for  to  trete, 
So  doughty  was  hir  housbond  and  eek  sche, 
That  thay  conquered^  many  regnes  grete 
In  thorient,  ^^^ith  many  a  fair  citee 
Appurtienant  unto  tlie  mageste 
Of  Rome,  and  with  strong  liond  hulden  hem  iaste ; 
Ne  never  might  her  fomcn  doon  hem  flc 
Ay  while  that  Odcnakes  dayes  laste. 

Her  batails,  who-so  lust  hem  for  to  rede, 
Agaj-n  Sapor  the  king  and  other  mo,  soo 

And  how  that  this  processe  fel  in  dede. 


212  THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 

Whj-  schc  conquered,  and  '\\'hat  title  hadde  therto, 
And  after  of  hir  mescliief  and  liir  woo, 
How  that  sche  Avas  heseged  and  i-takc, 
Let  hera  nnto  ni)-  maj'ster  Pefrark  go, 
Tliat  writcth  of  this  y-nough,  I  undertake. 

Whan  Odcnake  was  deed,  sche  mightily 
The  regncs  huld,  and  witli  hir  proprc  hond 
Ayeins  hir  foos  sche  faught  ful  trcwcly, 
That  ther  nas  king  ne  prince  in  al  that  lond      sio 
That  he  nas  glad  if  he  that  grace  fond 
That  sche  nc  wold  upon  liis  lond  werraye. 
Witli  hir  thay  made  alliaunce  by  bond. 
To  Ix'U  in  peese,  and  let  hir  ryde  and  play?. 

The  empcrour  of  Rome,  Claudius, 
Ne  him  biforn  the  Romayn  Galiene, 
Ne  dorste  never  be  so  corragcous, 
Nc  noon  Ermine,  ne  Egipciene, 
No  Surrien,  ne  noon  Arrabiene, 
Withinnc  the  feld  that  durste  with  hir  fighte      :;3o 
Lest  that  sche  wolde  hera  with  her  hondes  slecn. 
Or  with  hir  meyne  putten  hem  to  flights. 

In  kinges  abyt  went  hir  sones  tuo, 
As  heircs  of  her  fiidres  regnes  alle ; 
And  Hermanno  and  Themaleo 
Here  names  were,  as  Parciens  hem  callc. 
But  ay  fortune  hath  in  hir  hony  galle; 
This  mighty  quccne  may  no  while  endure, 
Fortune  out  of  hir  regno  made  hir  fallc 
To  wreeehednesse  and  to  mysadventure.  360 

Aurilian,  whan  that  the  governaunce 
Of  Rome  cam  into  his  hondes  twayc. 
He  scliop  him  of  this  queen  to  do  vengeauncc; 
And  with  his  Icgiouns  he  took  the  waye 


THE  MONKES  TALE,  213 

Toward  Cenoby ;  and  sehortly  to  sayc 
He  made  liir  flee,  and  atte  last  hir  hcntt?, 
And  feterid  hir,  and  eck  hir  cliildrcn  tweyc, 
And  wan  the  lond,  and  home  to  Rome  he  v\'ente. 

Among'os  other  thinges  that  he  wan, 
Hir  chaar,  tliat  was  with  gold  wrought  and  pcrre, 
This  grctc  Romayn,  this  Aurihan,  sii 

Hath  with  him  lad,  for  tlmt  men  schulde  se ; 
Bifore  this  triumphe  walkith  sche, 
And  gilte  cheynes  in  hir  neeke  hongynge ; 
Corouncd  sche  was,  as  aftir  hir  degre, 
iVnd  ful  of  perre  chargid  icns  hir  clothynge. 

Alias  !  fortune  !  sche  that  whilom  was 
Dredful  to  kinges  and  to  emperoures, 
Now  gaureth  al  the  pcpid  on  hir,  alas  ! 
And  sche  that  hclmyd  was  in  starkc  stoures,      rso 
And  wan  bi  force  tonnes  stronge  and  toures, 
8chal  on  hir  heed  now  were  a  wyntermyte; 
And  sche  that  bar  the  cepter  ful  of  floures, 
iSchal  bcre  a  distaf  hir  coste  for  to  quyte. 

DE  PETEO  niSPANNIE  BEGE. 

0  noble,  0  loortld  Pctro,  glori  of  Spayne, 
Whom  fortune  held  so  heigh  in  magcste, 
Wcl  oughte  men  tliy  pitous  deth  complayne ; 
Thy  bastard  brother  made  the  to  fle, 
And  after,  at  a  sege,  by  subtilte 
Tliow  were  by  tray  ed,  and  lad  to  liis  tent,  g90 

Wher  as  ho  with  his  oughne  bond  slough  the, 
Succedyng  in  thy  lond  and  in  thy  rent. 

The  feld  of  snow,  with  thegle  of  blak  thcr-inne, 
Caught  withthe  leoun,  reed  coloured  as  is  the  gleede, 
lie  brewede  the  cursednesse  and  synne, 


214  THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 

The  wikked  nost  ivas  werker  of  this  neede. 

Nought  Charles  Oliver  that  ay  took  hcedo 

Of  trouthe  and  honour,  but  of  Armorj-k 

Gcniloun  Oliver,  corruptid  for  ?«cdo, 

Broughte  this  worthy  king  in  such  a  bryk.         4C0 

DE  PETEO  CIPKE  EEGE. 

0  worthy  Petro  king  of  Cipres,  also, 
That  Alisaundcr  wan  by  heigh  maistrye, 
Ful  many  an  hethcn  wroughtest  thou  ful  wo. 
Of  which  tliin  oughne  lieges  had  cnvye  ; 
And  for  no  thing  but  for  thy  ehivalrio, 
Thay  in  thy  bed  han  slayn  the  by  the  morwe. 
Thus  can  fortune  the  whcl  governe  and  gye. 
And  out  of  joye  bringe  men  into  sorwe. 

DE  BARNABO  COMITE  MEDIOLAT^O. 

Of  !Melayn  grete  Barnabo  Viscount, 
God  of  delyt  and  scourge  of  Lumbardye,  4io 

"Why  sehulde  thyn  infortune  I  nought  accounte, 
Syn  in  astaat  thou  clombe  were  so  hye  ? 
Thy  brother  sone,  that  was  thy  double  allie, 
For  he  thj^  nevew  was  and  sone  in  lawe, 
Withinne  his  prisoun  made  the  to  dye ; 
But  why  ne  how  not  I  that  thou  were  slawe. 

DE  nrreiLiNo  comite  pise. 

Of  crl  Hugilin  of  Pise  the  langour 
Ther  may  no  tonge  telle  for  pite. 
But  litel  out  of  Pise  stant  a  tour, 
In  whiche  tour  in  prisoun  put  was  he ;  420 

And  with  him  been  his  litel  children  tlire, 
Theldest  skarsly  fyf  yer  was  of  age ; 


THE  MONKES  TALE.  215 

Alias  !  fortune  !  it  was  gret  crueltc 
Suche  briddes  to  put  in  such  a  cage. 

Darapnyd  he  V\-us  to  deyc  in  that  prisoun, 
For  Roger,  which  that  bisschop  was  of  Pise, 
Had  on  him  maad  a  fals  suggestioun ; 
Thurgh  which  the  peple  gan  on  him  arise, 
And  putte  him  in  prisoun  in  such  r/wise 
As  ye  han  herd,  and  mete  and  drj-nk  he  hadde  iso 
So  smal  that  wcl  unnethe  it  may  suffise. 
And  therwithal  it  was  fid  pore  and  badde. 

And  on  a  day  bifel  that  in  that  hour 
Whan  that  his  mete  was  wont  to  be  i-brought, 
The  gayler  schet  the  dorcs  of  that  tour. 
He  herd  it  wel,  but  he  ne  saugh  it  nought. 
And  in  his  hert  anoon  thcr  fel  a  thought 
That  thay  for  hungir  wolde  doon  liim  dyen. 
'  Alas  ! '  quod  he,  '  alias  !  that  I  was  wrought ! ' 
Therwith  the  teeres  felle  fro  his  cyen.  410 

His  yongest  sone,  that  thre  yer  was  of  age, 
Unto  him  sayde,  '  Fader,  why  do  ye  Avepe  ? 
Whan  wil  the  gayler  bringen  oure  potage  ? 
Is  ther  no  morsel  bred  that  ye  doon  kepe  ? 
I  am  so  hongry  that  I  may  not  sleepe. 
Now  wolde  God  that  I  mighte  slope  ever  ! 
Than  schulde  not  hunger  in  my  wombe  crepe. 
Ther  is  no  thing  save  bred  that  me  were  lever.' 

Thus  day  by  day  this  child  bigan  to  erie, 
Til  in  his  fadrcs  barm  adoun  he  lay,  I'o 

And  sayde,  *  Far  wcl,  fader,  I  moot  dye ! ' 
And  kist  his  fader,  and  dyde  the  same  day. 
And  whan  the  woful  fader  deed  it  say, 
For  wo  his  armes  tuo  he  gan  to  byte. 
And  sayde,  '  Fortune,  alas  and  waylaway  ! 


216  THE   CANTERBUHY   TALES. 

Thin  false  iviles  id  my  woo  I  wytc' 

His  ehilder  "wende  that  it  for  hongir  was, 
That  he  his  amies  gnew,  and  nought  for  wo. 
And  sayden,  '  Fader,  do  nought  so,  alias ! 
But  ratlicr  et  tlie  fleiseh  upon  us  tuo.  46o 

Ouro  fleiseh  thouyave  us,  cure  fleiseh  thou  take  us  fro, 
And  ete  ynough ;'  right  thus  thay  to  him  seyde. 
And  after  that,  withinnc  a  day  or  tuo, 
Thay  layde  hem  in  his  lappe  adoun  and  deydc. 

Himself  despeired  eek  for  honger  starf. 
Thus  ended  is  this  mighty  corl  of  Pise  ; 
For  his  estate  fortune  fro  him  carf. 
Of  this  trcgede  it  ought  ynough  suffise ; 
Who-so  will  hierc  it  in  a  lenger  wise, 
Rede  the  grete  poet  of  Itaile  470 

That  hightc  Daunte,  for  he  can  it  devise, 
Fro  poynt  to  poynt  nought  oon  word  wil  he  fayle. 

DE  NEEO]SrE. 

Although  Nero  were  als  vicious 
As  any  fend  that  lith  ful  lowe  adoun, 
Yit  he,  as  tellith  us  Swethoneus, 
This  wyde  world  had  in  subjeeeioun, 
Bothe  est  and  west,  south  and  septemtrioun. 
Of  rubies,  safers,  and  of  perles  white. 
Were  alle  his  clothes  cmbroudid  up  and  doun ; 
For  he  in  gemmis  gretly  gan  delite.  aeo 

More  delycat,  more  pompi^s  of  arraj^. 
More  proud  was  never  emperour  than  he. 
That  ylke  cloth  that  he  hadde  wered  a  day, 
After  that  tyme  he  nolde  it  never  se, 
Ncttis  of  gold  thred  had  he  gret  plente, 
To  fissche  in  Tyber,  whan  him  lust  to  plcye. 


THE  MONKES  TALE.  21 7 

His  willes  were  as  lawe  in  his  degre, 
For  fortune  as  his  frend  wold  liim  obeye. 

He  Rome  brente  for  his  delicacie ; 
The  senatours  he  slongh  upon  a  da}^  .m 

To  here  liow  men  -^^-olde  wepe  and  crye ; 
And  slough  his  brother,  and  by  his  sustcr  lay 
His  modir  made  he  in  pitous  arraj^, 
For  hire  wombe  let  alytte  he,  to  byholde 
'\\'her  he  conceyved  ivas,  so  waylaway  ! 
Tliat  he  so  litel  of  his  moodir  toldc. 

No  teer  out  of  his  eyen  for  that  sights 
Ne  cam ;  but  saydo,  a  fair  womman  A\'as  sehe. 
Gret  wonder  is  how  that  he  couthc  or  mighte 
Be  domesman  on  hir  dede  beaute',  so 

The  wyn  to  bringen  him  comaundid  he, 
And  drank  anoon,  noon  other  wo  he  made. 
\yhan  might  is  torned  unto  crueltd, 
Alias !  to  deepe  wil  the  venym  wade. 

In  youthe  a  maistcr  h&dde  this  emperour, 
To  teehe  him  letterure  and  curtesye ; 
For  of  moralite  he  was  the  flour, 
As  in  his  tyme,  but  if  the  bokes  lye. 
And  whil  his  maister  had  of  him  maistrie, 
He  made  him  so  eonnyng  and  so  souplc,  510 

That  long  tj-mc  it  was  or  tyrranye 
Or  ony  vice  dorst  on  him  uncouple. 

This  Seneca,  of  which  that  I  devyso, 
Bycanse  Nero  had  of  him  such  drede. 
For  he  fro  vices  wolde  him  chastise 
Discretly  as  by  word,  and  nought  by  dcde. 
'  Sir,'  wold  he  sayn,  '  an  emperour  mot  neede 
Be  vertuous  and  hate  tyrannye.' 
For  which  he  in  a  bath  made  hini  to  blccde       520 


218  THE  CANTERBURY   TALES. 

On  bothe  his  armes,  til  he  moste  dye. 

This  Nero  hadde  eek  of  a  custumance 
In  youtho  ayeiu  his  maistcr  for  to  ryse, 
Which  after-ward  he  thought  a  grot  grevauncc  ; 
Thcrfore  he  made  liim  deye  in  this  wise. 
But  natheles  this  Seneca  the  wise 
Ches  in  a  bath  to  deye  in  this  manere, 
Rather  than  to  have  another  iurmcntise  ; 
And  thus  hath  Nero  slayn  his  maister  deero. 

Now  fel  it  so  that  fortune  lust  no  longer 
The  highe  pride  of  Nero  to  cherice ;  5:^0 

For  though  he  were  strong,  yit  was  sche  strenger ; 
Sche  thoughte  thus,  '  By  God !  I  am  to  nyce. 
To  set  a  man  that  is  ful  sad  of  vice 
In  high  degre,  and  emperour  him  calle ; 
By  God  !  out  of  his  setc  I  wil  him  trice : 
Whan  he  lest  weneth,  sonnest  schal  he  falle. 

The  poeple  ros  on  him  upon  a  night 
For  his  defaute,  and  whan  he  it  aspyede, 
Out  of  his  dores  anoon  he  hath  him  dight 
Aloone,  and  ther  he  wcnde  have  ben  allycd,       sio 
He  knokkede  fast ;  and  ay  the  more  he  criede, 
The  faster  sehette  thay  the  doores  alle. 
Than  wist  he  wel  he  had  himself  mysgyed, 
And  went  his  way,  no  lenger  durst  he  ealle. 

The  peple  cried,  and  rumbled  up  and  doun, 
That  with  his  eres  herd  he  how  thay  sayde, 
*  TFher  is  this  false  traitour,  this  Neroun  ?' 
For  fere  almost  out  of  his  witte  he  brayde, 
And  to  his  goddes  pitously  he  prayde 
For  socour,  but  it  mighte  nought  betyde ;  550 

For  drede  of  this  him  thoughte  that  he  dyde, 
And  ran  into  a  gardyn  hym  to  hyde. 


THE  MONKES  TALE.  210 

And  in  this  gardyn  fond  he  cherlis  Uvayo 
Sittjnge  by  a  fuyr  ful  greet  and  reed. 
And  to  these  cherles  tuo  he  gan  to  praye 
To  sleen  him,  and  to  girden  of  his  heed, 
That  to  his  body,  whan  that  he  were  deed, 
Were  no  despyt  y-doon  for  his  defame. 
Himself  he  slough,  he  coiithe  no  better  reed  ; 
Of  which  fortimc  thai  lough  and  hadde  game.    563 

DE  OLIPHEENO. 

Was  never  eapitaigne  under  a  king 
That  regnes  mo  put  in  subjcceioun, 
Ne  stranger  was  in  feld  of  alio  thing 
As  in  his  tyme,  ne  gretter  of  renoun ; 
Ne  more  pompous  in  heih  presumpcioun, 
Than  Oliphern,  M-hieh  that  fortune  ay  kiste 
So  licorously,  and  ladde  him  up  and  doun, 
Til  that  his  heed  was  of,  cr  he  it  wiste. 

Nought  oonly  that  the  world  had  of  him  awe. 
For  lesyng  of  riches  and  liberte,  570 

But  he  made  every  man  reneye  his  lawe ; 
Nabugodonosor  was  lord,  sayde  he ; 
Noon  other  god  ne  schuld  honoured  be. 
Ayeinst  his  heste  dar  no  wight  trespaec, 
Save  in  Betholia,  a  strong  cite, 
Wher  Eliachim  a  prest  ivas  of  that  place. 

But  tak  keep  of  that  dethe  of  Olipherne  : 
Amyd  his  ost  he  dronke  lay  on  night 
Withinne  his  tente,  large  as  is  a  berno  ; 
And  yit,  for  al  his  pomp  and  al  his  might,  5so 

Judith,  a  womman,  as  he  lay  upright 
Slepying,  his  heed  of  smot,  and  fro  his  tente 


220  THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 

Fill  prively  scho  stal  from  every  wight, 
And  with  his  heed  unto  hir  toun  scho  Mcut^?, 

DE  EEGE  ANTIOCHIE  ILLT7STRI. 

^^'hat  needith  it  of  king  Antiochius, 
To  telle  his  heye  and  real  mageste, 
His  heyhe  pride,  his  wcrkcs  venemous  ? 
For  such  another  was  ther  noon  as  he. 
Ivcdetli  which  that  he  was  in  Macliabe, 
And  redith  the  proude  wordes  that  he  sayde,      590 
And  why  he  fel  fro  his  prosperitc, 
And  in  an  hil  how  wrecchidly  he  deyde. 

Fortune  him  hath  enhaunccd  so  in  pryde, 
That  vcrraily  he  wend  he  might  attcyijue 
Unto  the  sterris  upon  every  syde, 
And  in  a  Lalaunce  wcj-cn  cch  mounteync, 
And  alle  tlic  floodes  of  the  see  restreyne. 
And  Goddes  pcplc  had  he  most  in  hate ; 
Hem  wold  he  sice  in  torment  and  in  peyne, 
Wenyng  that  God  ne  might  liis  pride  abate.       coo 

And  for  that  Niehanor  and  Thimothe 
\\\\X\  Jewes  were  vcnquist  mightily, 
Unto  the  Jewes  such  an  hate  had  he, 
That  he  bad  graithe  his  ehaar/«<Z  hastily, 
And  swor,  and  sayde  ful  dcspitously. 
Unto  Jerusalem  he  wold  eftsoone. 
To  wreke  his  ire  on  it  ful  cruelly ; 
But  of  his  purpos  he  was  let  ful  soone. 

God,  for  his  manacc,  him  so  sore  smoot 
With  invisible  wounde  ay  incurable,  eio 

That  in  his  guttes  carf  'd  so  and  bot, 
That  his  peynes  were  importable. 
And  certeynly  the  wrechc  was  rcsonable; 


THE  M0NKE3   TALE.  221 

For  many  a  mernnes  giitfes  cledc  he  peync  ; 
But  fro  his  purpos  cursed  and  dampnable, 
For  al  his  smert,  he  nolde  him  nought  rcsti'e}nc. 

But  bad  anoon  apparailcn  his  host, 
And  sodeynly,  or  he  was  of  it  Avare, 
God  dauntede  al  his  pride  and  al  liis  host 
For  he  so  sore  fel  out  of  his  chare,  620 

That  Jtiirtc  his  lymcs  and  his  skyn  to-tarc, 
So  that  he  nomoro  niightc  go  ne  ryde ; 
Ikit  in  a  chare  men  aboutc  him  bare 
Al  for-brosed,  bothe  bak  and  syde. 

The  wreche  of  God  him  smot  so  crueh', 
That  in  his  body  wicked  wormes  creptf, 
And  therwithal  he  stonk  so  orribly, 
That  noon  of  al  his  meyne  that  him  kep/c, 
Whether  that  he  wook  or  elles  slepte, 
Ne  mighte  nought  the  stynk  of  him  endure.       6';o 
In  this  mcschief  he  weyled  and  eek  wepte, 
And  knew  God  lord  of  every  creature. 

To  al  his  host  and  to  himself  also 
Ful  wlatsom  was  the  stynk  rif  his  carayne  ; 
No  man  ne  might  him  bere  to  ne  fro ; 
And  in  Ms  stynk  and  in  his  orrible  payne 
He  starf  ful  wrecchedly  in  a  mountaync. 
Thus  hath  this  robbour  and  this  homicide, 
That  many  a  man  made  wepe  and  playne, 
ISwich  gucrdoun  as  that  longeth  luito  pr\"de.       oio 

DE  AlEXANDEO  MAGXO,  I'HILIPPI  HEGIS  MACEUOXIE 

riLIO. 

The  story  of  Alisaunder  is  so  comunc, 
That  every  wight  that  hath  discrecioun 
Hath  herd  som-what  or  al  of  his  fortune ; 


222  THE  CANTERBURY   TALES. 

Thys  wyde  world  as  in  cbnclusioun 
He  wan  by  strengthe,  or  for  his  heigh  renoun, 
Thay  wcrc?i  glad  for  pees  nnto  him  sendc. 
The  pride  of  man  and  host  he  layd  adoun, 
Wher-so  he  cam,  unto  the  worldes  ende. 

Comparisoun  yit  mighte  never  be  maked 
Bitwen  him  and  noon  other  conqucrour ;  6-30 

For  al  this  world  for  dredc  of  him  hath  quaked. 
He  was  of  knyghthod  and  of  fredam  flour ; 
Fortune  him  made  the  heir  of  hir  honour ; 
Save  wyn  and  wymmen,  no  thing  might  aswagc 
His  heigh  en  tent  in  armes  and  labour, 
So  was  he  ful  of  leonyne  corage. 

What  piis  were  it  to  him,  though  I  j'ow  tolde 
Of  Darius,  and  an  hundred  thousand  mo 
Of  kynges,  princes,  dukes,  and  eorlcs  bolde, 
Which  he  conquered  and  brought  unto  wo  ?        660 
I  say,  as  fer  as  men  may^  ryde  or  go, 
The  world  was  his,  what  schold  I  more  devj-se  ? 
For  tJiouhe  I  write  or  tolde  yowe  evermo 
Of  his  knighthood,  it  mighte  no\ight  suffise. 

Twelf  yer  he  regncd,  as  saith  Machabe ; 
Philippes  son  of  Macedon  he  was, 
That  first  was  king  of  Grece  that  centre. 
0  worthy  gentil  Alisaundre,  alas  ! 
That  ever  schulde  falle  such  a  caas ! 
Empoysoncd  of  thin  oughne  folk  thou  were  ;       670 
Thyn  sis  fortune  is  torned  into  an  aas. 
And  right  for  the  ne  wepte  sche  never  a  teere. 

Who  schal  me  yivc  teeres  to  complcignc 
The  doth  of  gentiles  and  of  fraunchise, 
That  al  the  worldc  had  in  his  demcig-nc ; 
And  yit  him  thought  it  mighte  nought  suffice. 


THE  MONKES  TALE.  223 

So  ful  was  his  eorage  of  high  emprise. 

Alias !  who  schal  helpe  me  to  enclite 

Fals  infortunc,  and  poysoun  to  devyse, 

The  whicho  two  of  al  this  wo  I  wytc.  eso 

JTJLItrS  CESAK. 

By  wisedom,  manhod,  and  hy  gret  labour, 
Fro  humble/iede  to  royal  mageste 
Up  roos  he,  Julius  the  conquerour, 
That  wan  al  thoecident  by  land  and  see, 
By  strengthe  of  bond  or  elles  by  tretc. 
And  unto  Rome  made  hem  contributarie 
And  siththe  of  Rome  themperour  was  he, 
Til  that  fortune  wax  his  adversarie. 

0  mighty  Cesar,  that  in  Thessalie 
Agains  Pompetus,  fader  thin  in  lawe,  cjo 

That  of  the  orient  had  al  the  chivalric, 
Als  fer  as  that  the  day  bigynneif/i  to  dawe, 
Thorugh  thi  knighthod  thou  hast  him  take  and  slawe. 
Save  fewe  folk  that  with  Pompeus  fleddc  ; 
Thurgh  which  thou  puttist  al  thorient  in  awe ; 
Thanke  fortune  that  so  wel  the  spedde. 

But  now  a  litel  while  I  wil  bywaile 
This  Pompeus,  the  noble  governour 
Of  Rome,  which  that  flowe  fro  this  batailc  ; 
Alas !  I  say,  oon  of  his  men,  a  fats  traitour. 
His  heed  of  smoot,  to  Wynne  \\\m  favour  700 

Of  Julius,  and  him  the  heed  he  broughtc. 
Alas  !  Pompei«5,  of  the  orient  conquerour, 
That  fortune  wnto  such  a  fyn  the  broughtc. 

To  Rome  agayn  repaircth  Julius, 
With  his  triumphe  laurial  ful  hye. 
But  on  a  tyme  Brutus  and  Cassius, 


224  THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 

That  ever  hadde  to  his  estat  cnvye, 

Ful  privcly  hath  made  conspiracic 

Agains  this  Julius  in  subtil  wise ; 

A7id  cast  the  place  in  which  he  schuldc  dye       7io 

With  boydekyns,  as  I  schal  yow  devyse. 

Tliis  Julius  to  tlio  capitoile  wente, 
Upon  a  day,  as  he  was  wont  to  goon ; 
And  in  the  capitoil  anoon  him  hcnte 
This  false  Brutus,  and  his  other  foon, 
And  stiked  him  with  boydekyns  anoon 
With  many  a  wo  undo,  and  thus  tliay  let  him  lye. 
But  never  gront  he  at  no  strook  but  oon, 
Or  clles  at  tuo,  but-if  the  storie  lye. 

So  manly  was  this  Julius  of  hcrte,  7i.'0 

And  so  wel  loved  estatly  honeste, 
That  though  his  deedly  woundcs  sore  smertc, 
His  mantil  over  his  hipes  caste  he, 
For  no  man  schulde  seen  his  privcte. 
And  as  he  lay  adcyinge  in  a  traunce. 
And  wiste  wel  that  verrayly  deed  was  ho 
Of  honcste  yet  had  he  remembraunee. 

Lucan,  to  the  this  story  I  recomendc, 
And  to  8wctoun  and  to  Valiri;«  also, 
That  al  the  story  writen  Avord  and  ende,  730 

How  to  these  gretc  conqueroures  tuo 
Fortune  was  first  frcnd  and  siththen  lb. 
No  man  trust  upon  hir  favour  longe, 
But  have  hir  in  awayt  for  evcrmo, 
Witnesse  on  alle  thise  conqueroures  stronge. 

CEESTTS. 

This  richc  Cresus,  whilom  king  of  L}de, 
Of  Avhich  Cresus  Cirus  him  sore  dradde, 


THE  MONKES  TALE,  225 

Yet  was  he  caught  amyddes  al  his  pride, 

And  to  the  fu)T  to  brenne  him  men  him  ladde. 

But  such  a  rayn  doun  fro  the  heven  schaddo,      7^0 

That  slough  the  fuyr  and  made  him  to  eschape. 

But  to  be  war  yet  grace  noon  he  hadde, 

Til  fortune  on  the  galwes  made  him  gape. 

Whan  he  was  eschaped,  he  couth  nought  stentc 
For  to  bygynne  a  newe  werre  agayn ; 
He  wendo  wel,  for  thai  fortune  him  senli? 
Such  hap,  that  he  eschaped  thurgh  the  rayn. 
That  of  his  foos  he  mighte  not  be  slayn. 
And  eek  a  sweven  upon  a  night  he  mette. 
Of  which  he  was  so  proud  and  eek  so  fayn,         7J0 
That  in  vengeaunce  he  al  his  herte  settc. 

Upon  a  tree  he  was  set,  as  him  thoughts, 
Wher  Jubiter  him  wissch  bothe  bak  and  side, 
And  Phebus  eek  a  fair  towail  him  broughte 
To  drye  him  witli,  and  therfore  wax  his  pride ; 
And  to  his  doughter  that  stood  him  biside. 
Which  that  he  knew  in  heigh  science  abounde. 
And  bad  hire  telle  Avhat  it  signifyde. 
And  sche  his  dreem  right  thus  began  expounde. 

'  The  tree,'  quod  sche,  '  the  galwes  is  to  mene, 
And  Jubiter  betokeneth  snow  and  I'ayn,  701 

And  Phebus  with  his  towail  so  clone, 
Tho  ben  the  sonne  stremes,  soth  to  savn. 
Thow  schalt  anhangid  ben,  fader,  certayn ; 
Rayn  schal  the  wasch,  and  sonne  schal  the  drye.' 
Thus  warnede  sche  him  ful  plat  and  ek  ful  plavn 
His  doughter,  which  that  called  was  Phanie. 

And  hanged  was  Cresus  this  proude  king, 
His  real  h'ove  might  him  not  availe. 
Tregedie  is  noon  other  maner  thing,  770 

TOL.    III.  Q, 


226 


THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 


Ne  can  in  si??^ynge  crien  ne  biwaile. 

But  for  that  fortune  wil  alway  assayle 

With  unwar  strook  the  regncs  that  ben  proude ; 

For  whan  men  trusteth  hir,  than  wil  sche  faile, 

And  cover  hir  brighte  face  with  a  clowde. 


227 


THE  PROLOGE  OF  THE  NONNE  PRESTES 

TALE. 

^^^;^  0,  sire  !'  quod  the  Knight,  '  no  more  of 

I  That  ye  han  said  is  right  ynough  y- 
wys, 

And  mochil  mor ;  for  litel  hevynesse 
Is  right  i-noiigh  for  moche  folk,  I  gesse. 
I  say  for  me,  it  is  a  gret  disease, 
Wher  as  men  han  ben  in  gret  welthe  and  ease, 
To  hieren  of  her  sodeyn  fal,  alias  ! 
And  the  contraire  is  joye  and  gret  solas ; 
As  whan  a  man  hath  ben  in  pore  estate. 
And  clymbith  up,  and  wexeth  fortunate,  lo 

And  ther  abydeth  in  prosperite ; 
Such  thing  is  gladsom,  as  it  thinkith  me, 
And  of  such  thing  were  goodly  for  to  telle.' 
'  Ye,'  quod  our  Host,  '  by  seint  Paules  belle. 
Ye  saye  right  soth ;  this  monk  hath  clappid  lowde; 
He  spak,  how  fortune  was  clipped  with  a  clowde, 
I  not  never  what,  and  als  of  tregedie 
Right  now  ye  herd  ;  and  pardy  !  no  remedye 
It  is  for  to  bywayle  or  to  compleyne 
That  that  is  doon  ;  and  also  it  is  a  peyne,  ;io 

As  ye  han  said,  to  hiere  of  hevynesse. 
Sire  monk,  no  more  of  this,  so  God  you  blesse  ; 
Your  tale  anoyeth  al  this  eompaignie ; 


228  THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 

Such  ialheinge  is  nought  worth  a  boterflye, 

For  therinne  is  noon  disport  ne  game. 

Wherfor,  sir  monk,  daun  Piercs  by  your  name, 

I  pray  yow  hertly,  tel  us  somwhat  ollis ; 

For  sicurly,  ner  gingling  of  the  bellis 

That  on  your  bridil  hong  on  every  syde, 

By  heven  king,  that  for  us  alio  dydc,  -M 

I  schold  er  this  han  falle  doun  for  sleep, 

Although  the  slough  hadcZt;  never  ben  so  deep ; 

Than  hadde  your  tale  al  be  told  in  vayn. 

For  eerteynly,  as  these  clerkes  sayn, 

Wher  as  a  man  may  have  noon  audience, 

Nought  helpith  it  to  tcUen  his  sentence. 

And  wel  I  wot  the  substance  is  in  me, 

If  eny  thing  schal  wel  reported  be. 

Sir,  say  somwhat  of  huntyng,  I  yow  praye. 

'  Nay,'  quod  the  Monk,  '  I  have  no  lust  to  playc ; 

Now  let  another  telle,  as  I  have  told.'  4i 

Then  spak  our  Ost  with  rude  speche  and  bold, 
And  said  unto  the  nonncs  prcst  anoon, 
'  Com  ncr,  thou  prcst,  come  nor,  thou  sir  Johan, 
Tel  us  such  thing  as  may  our  hertes  glade ; 
Be  blithe,  although  thou  ryde  upon  a  jade. 
What  though  thin  hors  be  bothe  foul  and  lene  ?' 
If  he  wil  serve  the,  rek  the  not  a  bene ; 
Lok  that  thin  hcrt  be  mery  evermo.' 
*  Yis,  sire,  yis,  Hoste,'  quod  he,  '  so  mot  I  go,      so 
But  I  be  mery,  i-Avis  I  wol  be  blamed.' 
And  right  anoon  he  hath  his  talc  atamyd ; 
And  thus  he  sayd  unto  us  everichoon, 
This  sweete  prest,  this  goodly  man  sir  Johan. 


229 


THE  NONNE  PREST  HIS  TALE. 

PORE  wydow,  sonidel  stope  in  age, 
Was  whilom  duellyng  in  a  pore  cotage, 
Bisydc  a  grove,  stondyng  in  a  dale. 
This  wydowe,  of  which  I  telle  yow  my 
tale, 

Syn  thilke  day  that  sche  was  last  a  wif, 

In  paciens  ladde  a  ful  symplc  lyf. 

For  litel  was  hir  catel  and  hir  rentt? ; 

For  housbondry  of  such  as  God  hir  sente, 

Sche  fond  hirself,  and  eek  hir  doughtres  tuo. 

Thre  large  sowes  hadde  sche,  and  no  mo,  lo 

Thre  kyn,  and  eek  a  schcep  that  highto  ]\lalle. 

Ful  sooty  was  hir  hour,  and  eek  hir  halle. 

In  which  she  eet  ful  many  a  sclender  meel. 

Of  poynaunt  saws  hir  needide  never  a  deel. 

Noon  deynteth  morsel  passidf;  thorugh  hir  throte ; 

Hir  dyetc  was  accordant  to  hir  cote. 

Repleccioun  no  made  hir  never  sik ; 

Attempre  dyete  was  al  hir  phisik, 

And  exercise,  and  hertes  suffisauncc. 

The  goute  lette  hir  nothing  for  to  dauncc,  20 

The  apoplexie  ne  schentc  not  hir  heed  ; 

No  wyn  ne  drank  sche,  nother  whit  ne  reed ; 

Hir  boi;d  icas  servyd  most  with  whit  and  blak, 

Milk  and  broun  bred,  in  which  sehe  fond  no  luk, 

Saynd  bacoun,  and  som  tyme  an  ey  or  tweyc ; 

For  sche  was  as  it  were  a  maner  deye. 


230  THE  CAKTERBURT   TALES. 

A  yerd  sche  had,  enclosed  al  aboute 

With  stikkes,  and  a  drye  dich  "withoutc, 

In  which  she  had  a  eok,  hight  Chaunteclcre, 

In  al  the  lond  of  crowyng  was  noon  his  pecre.     30 

His  vois  was  merier  than  the  mery  ergon, 

On  masse  dayes  that  in  the  chirche  goon ; 

Wei  sikerer  Avas  his  crowyng  in  his  logge, 

Than  is  a  clok,  or  an  abbay  orologgc. 

By  nature  knew  he  ech  ascensioun 

Of  equinoxial  in  thilke  toun ; 

For  whan  degrees  fyftene  were  ascendid, 

Thanne  crew  he,  it  mightc  not  ben  amendid. 

His  comb  was  redder  than  the  fyne  coral, 

And  batayld,  as  it  were  a  castel  wal.  40 

His  bile  was  blak,  and  as  the  geet  it  schon ; 

Lik  asur  were  his  leggcs,  and  his  ton ; 

His  naylcs  whittcr  than  the  lily  flour, 

And  lik  the  burnischt  gold  was  his  colour. 

This  gentil  cok  had  in  his  governaunce 

Seven  hennes,  for  to  do  al  his  plesaimee, 

Whiche  were  his  sustres  and  his  paramourcs, 

And  wonder  lik  to  him,  as  of  coloures. 

Of  whiche  the  fairest  hiewed  on  hir  throte. 

Was  cleped  fayre  damysel  Pertilote.  50 

Curtej's  sche  was,  discrct,  and  debonaire, 

And  companablc,  and  bar  hirsclf  ful  fairc, 

Syn  thilke  day  that  sche  was  seven  nyght  old, 

That  sche  hath  trewely  the  hcrt  in  hold 

Of  Chaunteclcre  loken  in  ever}-  lith  ; 

He  loved  hir  so,  that  wel  him  was  therwith. 

But  such  a  joye  was  it  to  here  him  synge. 

Whan  that  the  brighte  sonne  gan  to  springe. 

In  swete  accord,  '  my  liefe  is  faren  on  londe.' 


THE  NONNE   PREST  HIS   TALE.  231 

Fro  thilke  tyme,  as  I  have  undcrstonde,  60 

Bestis  and  briddes  cowde  speke  and  synge. 
And  so  byfel,  that  in  a  dawenynge, 
As  Chaunteclere  among  his  A\'yves  alle 
Sat  on  his  perchc,  that  was  in  tlie  halle, 
And  next  him  sat  this  faire  Pertclote, 
This  Chauntecler  gan  gronen  in  his  throte, 
As  man  that  in  his  dreem  is  drecched  sore. 
And  whan  that  Pertelot  thus  herd  him  rore, 
Sche  was  agast,  and  sayde,  •'  herte  dccrc, 
What  eylith  yow  to  grone  in  this  manere  ?  70 

Ye  ben  a  verray  sleper,  fy  for  schame  !' 
And  he  answerd  and  sayde  thus,  '  Madame, 
I  pray  yow,  that  ye  take  it  nought  agreef : 
By  God,  me  mette  I  was  in  such  meschief 
Right  now,  that  yit  myn  hert  is  sore  afright. 
Now  God,'  quod  he,  '  my  sweven  rede  aright, 
And  keep  my  body  out  of  foul  prisoun  ! 
Me  mette,  how  that  I  romed  up  and  doun 
Withinne  oure  yerd,  wher  as  I  saugh  a  beest. 
Was  lik  an  hound,  and  wold  have  maad  arrest     so 
Upon  my  body,  and  wold  han  had  me  deed. 
His  colour  was  bitwixe  yolow  and  reed ; 
And  tipped  was  his  tail,  and  bothe  his  eeres 
With  blak,  unlik  the  remenaunt  of  his  heres. 
His  snowt  was  smal,  with  glowynge  eyen  tweyo ; 
Yet  of  his  look  for  fer  almost  I  deye ; 
This  causede  me  my  gronyng  douteles.' 
'  Away !'  quod  sche,  '  fy  on  yow,  herteles  ! 
Alias  !'  quod  sche,  '  for,  by  that  God  above  ! 
Now  have  ye  lost  myn  hert  and  al  my  love ;         90 
I  can  nought  love  a  coward,  by  my  feith. 
For  certis,  what  so  eny  womraan  seith, 


232  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

We  alle  desiren,  if  it  mighte  be, 

To  have  housbondes,  hardy,  riche,  and  fre, 

And  secrd,  and  no  nj-gard,  ne  no  fool, 

Ne  him  that  is  agast  of  every  tool, 

No  noon  avauntcr,  by  that  God  above ! 

How  dorst  ye  sayn  for  schame  unto  your  love. 

That  any  thing  mighte  make  yow  afterd  ? 

Have  ye  no  mannes  hert,  and  han  a  herd  ?'        ino 

Alias  !  and  canne  ye  ben  agast  of  swcvenys  ? 

Nought,  God  wot,  but  vanite,  in  sweven  is. 

Swevens  cngendrid  ben  of  replecciouns. 

And  often  of  fume,  and  of  complexiouns, 

Whan  humours  ben  to  abundaunt  in  a  wight. 

Certes  this  dreem,  which  ye  han  met  to-night, 

Cometh  of  the  grete  superfluite 

Of  youre  reedc  colera,  parde'. 

Which  causeth  folk  to  dremen  in  here  dremes 

Of  arwes,  and  of  fuyr  with  reede  beemes,  no 

Of  rede  bestis,  that  thai  wil  him  byte, 

Of  contck,  and  of  whelpis  greet  and  lite ; 

Right  as  the  humour  of  malencolie 

Causeth,  in  sleep,  ful  many  a  man  to  cryc, 

For  fere  of  beres,  or  of  boles  blake. 

Or  elles  blake  develes  wol  him  take. 

Of  other  humours  couthe  I  telle  also, 

That  wirken  many  a  man  in  slep  ful  woo ; 

But  I  wol  passe  as  lightZy  as  I  can, 

Lo  Catoun,  which  that  was  so  wis  a  man,  120 

8ayde  he  nought  thus,  ne  do  no  force  of  dremes  ? 

Now,  sire,'  quod  sche,  'whan  we  flefrothise  beemes, 

For  Goddis  love,  as  tak  som  laxatyf ; 

Up  peril  of  my  soide,  and  of  my  lyf, 

I  counsel  yow  the  best,  I  wol  not  lye. 


i 


THE   NONKE   PEEST   IIIS   TALE.  233 

That  hothe  of  coloiire,  and  of  raalencolye 

Ye  purge  yoioe  ;  and  for  ye  scJiol  nouht  tarye, 

Though  in  this  toun  is  noon  apotecarie, 

I  schal  myself  tuo  herbes  techyn  yow,  1 2^ 

That  schal  be  for  your  hele,  and  for  youre  prow ; 

And  in  ourc  yerd  tho  herbes  schal  I  fyndc, 

The  whichc  han  of  her  propretc  b}'  kynde 

To  purgen  yow  bynethc,  and  eek  above. 

Forget  not  this,  for  Goddis  oughnc  love  ! 

Ye  ben  fid  colcrik  of  complcxioun. 

Ware  the  sonne  in  his  ascencioun 

Ne  fynd  yow  not  replet  in  humours  hote ; 

And  if  it  do,  I  dar  wel  lay  a  grote, 

That  ye  schul  have  a  fever  terciane. 

Or  elles  an  agu,  that  may  be  youre  bane.  uo 

A  day  or  tuo  ye  schul  have  digestives 

Of  wormes,  er  ye  take  j'our  laxatives, 

Of  lauriol,  century,  and  fumytere, 

Or  elles  of  elder  bery,  that  growith  there, 

Of  catapus,  or  of  gaytres  beriis, 

Of  erbe  yve  growmr/e  in  our  yerd,  ther  mcry  is  ; 

Pike  hem  up  right  as  thay  growc,  and  et  hem  in. 

Be  mcry,  housbond,  for  your  fader  kyn  ! 

Dredith  non  dremes ;  I  can  sayc  no  more.' 

'  Madame,'  qiiod  he,  '  graunt  mercy  of  your  lore. 

But  nathelcs,  as  touching  daun  Catoun,  isi 

That  hath  of  wisdom  such  a  gret  renoun, 

Though  that  he  bad  no  dremes  for  to  drede, 

By  God,  men  may  in  olde  bookes  rede 

Of  many  a  man,  more  of  auctorite 

That  ever  Catoun  was,  so  mot  I  the, 

That  al  the  revers  sayn  of  his  sentence, 

And  han  avcI  founden  by  experience, 


234  THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 

That  dremes  ben  signifieaciouns, 

As  wel  of  joye,  as  of  tribulaciouns,  i60 

That  folk  cndiiren  in  this  lif  present. 

Thar  nedcth  make  of  this  noon  argument; 

The  verray  preve  schewith  it  in  dede. 

Oon  of  the  grettest  auctowrs  that  men  rede, 

Saith  thus,  that  whilom  tway  felawes  wcntc 

On  pylgrimage  in  a  ful  good  entente ; 

And  happede  so,  thay  come  into  a  toun, 

Wher  as  ther  was  such  eongregacioun 

Of  people,  and  eek  so  streyt  of  herbergage, 

That  thay  fondc  nought  as  moche  as  oon  cotage, 

In  which  that  thay  mighte  bothe  i-logged  be.    171 

Wherfor  thay  mosten  of  necessite, 

As  for  that  night,  depart  her  compaignye ; 

And  cch  of  hem  goth  to  his  hostelryc, 

And  took  his  loggyng  as  it  wolde  fallc. 

That  oon  of  hem  was  loggid  in  a  stalle, 

Fer  in  a  yerd,  with  oxen  of  the  plough ; 

That  other  man  was  logged  wel  ynough. 

As  was  his  adventure,  or  his  fortune. 

That  us  governith  alle  in  comune.  I80 

And  vso  bifel,  that,  long  er  it  were  day, 

This  oon  met  in  his  bed,  ther  as  he  lay, 

How  that  his  felaw  gan  upon  him  calle. 

And  sayd,  '  alias !  for  in  an  oxe  stalle 

This  night  I  schal  be  murdrid  ther  I  lye. 

Now  help  me,  deere  brother,  or  I  dye ; 

In  alle  haste  cum  to  me,'  he  sayde. 

This  man  out  of  his  slep  for  for  abrayde  ; 

But  whan  that  he  was  waked  out  of  his  sleep, 

He  torned  him,  and  took  of  this  no  keep ;  U'O 

Him  thought  his  drcem  nas  but  a  vanite. 


THE  NONNE  PREST  HIS  TALE.  235 

Thus  twies  in  his  sleepe  dremed  he. 

And  at  the  thridde  time  yet  his  felawe 

Com,  as  him  thought,  and  sayd,  '  I  am  now  slawe  ; 

Bihold  my  bloody  woundes,  deep  and  wydc  I 

Arise  up  erly  in  the  morwe  tyde, 

And  at  the  west  gate  of  the  toun,'  quod  he, 

'  A  cart/wZ  of  donge  there  sehalt  thou  see, 

In  which  my  body  is  hyd  fal  prively ; 

Do  thilke  cart  arresten  boldely.  200 

My  gold  caused^  my  mourdre,  soth  to  sayn.' 

And  told  him  every  poynt  how  he  Avas  slayn, 

With  a  ful  pitous  face,  pale  of  hewe. 

And  truste  wel,  his  dreem  he  fond  ful  trewe ; 

For  on  the  morwe,  as  sone  as  it  was  day, 

To  his  felawes  in  he  took  the  way ; 

And  whan  that  he  cam  to  this  oxe  stalle, 

After  his  felaw  he  bigan  to  calle. 

The  hostiller  answered  him  anoon, 

And  sayde,  '  Sire,  your  felaw  is  agoon,  I'lo 

Als  soone  as  day  he  went  out  of  the  toun.' 

This  man  gan  falle  in  a  suspeccioun, 

Remembring  on  his  dremes  that  he  mettc. 

And  forth  he  goth,  no  leiigcr  wold  he  lette. 

Unto  the  west  gate  of  the  toun,  and  fond 

A  dong  cart  as  it  wente  to  donge  lend. 

That  was  arrayed  in  the  same  wise 

As  ye  han  herd  the  deede  man  devise ; 

And  with  an  hardy  hert  he  gan  to  crie 

Vengeaunce  and  justice  of  this  felony e.  iso 

'  My  felaw  mordrid  is  this  same  night, 

And  in  this  carte  he  lith  gapeinge  upright. 

I  crye  out  on  the  ministres,'  quod  he, 

*  That  schulde  kepe  and  reule  this  cite ; 


236  THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 

Harrow !  alias  !  her  lith  my  felaw  slayn  ! ' 

What  schold  I  more  unto  this  tale  sayn  ? 

The  peple  upstcrt,  and  caste  the  cart  to  grounde, 

And  in  the  myddes  of  the  dong  thay  founde 

The  dede  man,  that  mordred  was  al  newe. 

0  blisful  God,  thou  art  ful  just  and  trewe  !        230 

Lo,  how  thow  bywreyest  mordre  alday ! 

Mordro  wil  out,  certes  it  is  no  nay. 

Murder  is  so  wlatsom  and  abhominable 

To  God,  that  is  so  just  and  resonable, 

Tluit  he  ne  wolde  nought  sufFrc  it  hiled  be ; 

Thougli  it  abydo  a  yeer,  or  tuo,  or  thre, 

Morder  wil  out,  this  is  my  conclusioun. 

And  right  anoon,  the  mynistres  of  that  toun 

Han  hent  the  carter,  and  so  sore  him  pyned. 

And  eek  the  hostiller  so  sore  engyned,  240 

That  thay  biknew  her  wiklcednes  anoon, 

And  were  anhonged  by  the  nekke  boon. 

'  Here  may  men  se  that  dremys  ben  to  drede. 
And  certes  in  the  same  book  I  rede. 
Right  in  the  nexte  cliapitre  after  this, 
(I  gabbe  nought,  so  have  I  joye  or  bliss), 
Tuo  men  that  wolde  have  passed  over  sec 
For  certeyn  causes  into  fer  contrc. 
If  that  the  wynd  ne  hadde  ben  contrarie, 
That  made  hem  in  a  cite  for  to  tarie,  250 

That  stood  ful  mery  upon  an  haven  syde. 
But  on  a  day,  agayn  the  even  tyde, 
The  wynd  gan  chaungc,  and  blew  right  as  hem  hst. 
Jolyf  and  glad  they  wenten  unto  rest. 
And  casten  hem  ful  erly  for  to  sayle ; 
But  to  that  oon  man  fel  a  gret  mervayle. 
That  oon  of  hem  in  his  slopyng  as  he  lay. 


THE  NONNE  PREST   HIS  TALE.  237 

Him  met  a  wonder  drem,  agayn  the  day ; 

Him  thought  a  man  stood  by  his  beddes  syde, 

And  him  comaundede,  that  he  schuld  abyde,       260 

And  sayd  him  thus,  '  If  thou  to  morwe  wende, 

Thow  schalt  be  dreynt ;  my  tale  is  at  an  ende.' 

He  wook,  and  told  his  felaw  what  he  matte, 

And  prayedc  him  his  viage  for  to  lette ; 

As  for  that  day,  he  prayd  him  to  abyde. 

His  felaw  that  lay  by  liis  beddis  syde, 

Gan  for  to  lawgh,  and  scorned  him  ful  fast. 

'  No  dreem,'  quod  he,  '  may  so  myn  herte  gaste, 

That  I  wil  lette  for  to  do  my  thinges. 

I  sette  not  a  straw  by  thy  dremynges,  -7u 

For  swevens  been  but  vanitees  and  japes. 

Men  dreme  al  day  of  owles  and  of  apes, 

And  eke  of  many  a  mase  therwithal ; 

Men  dreme  of  thinges  that  never  luas,  ne  schal. 

But  sith  I  see  that  thou  wilt  hor  abyde. 

And  thus  forslouthe  wilfully  thy  tyde, 

God  wot  it  rewcth  me,  and  have  good  day.' 

And  thus  he  took  his  levo.  and  went  his  way. 

But  er  he  hadde  half  his  cours  i-sayled, 

Noot  I  nought  why,  ne  what  meschaunce  it  ayled, 

But  easuelly  the  sehippcs  bothom  rente,  2Si 

And  schip  and  man  under  the  watir  wente 

In  sight  of  other  sehippes  ther  byside. 

That  with  him  sailed  at  the  same  tyde. 

'  And  therfore,  faire  Pertelot  so  deere. 
By  such  ensamples  olde  maistow  leere 
That  no  man  scholde  be  so  reeheles 
Of  dremes,  for  I  say  the  douteles, 
That  many  a  dreem  ful  sore  is  for  to  drede. 
Lo,  in  the  lif  of  seint  Kenelm,  I  rede,  290 


238  THE  CA>"TERBURY   TALES. 

That  was  Kenulphus  sone,  that  noble  king 

Or  Mercmrike,  how  Kenilra  metto  a  thing. 

A  litil,  or  he  was  raordred,  upon  a  day 

His  mordre  in  his  aYj'sioun  he  say. 

His  norice  him  expouned  every  del 

His  sweven,  and  bad  him  for  to  kepe  him  wel 

Fro  traisoun  ;  but  ho  nas  but  seven  yer  old, 

And  therfore  litel  tale  hath  he  told 

Of  eny  drem,  so  holy  was  his  hert. 

By  God,  I  hadde  lever  than  my  schert,  300 

That  ye  hndde  rad  his  legend,  as  have  I. 

Dame  Pertelot,  I  say  yow  trewely, 

Macrobius,  that  writ  the  avisioun 

In  xVuffrik  of  the  worthy  Cipioun, 

AfFermeth  dremes,  and  saith  that  tliay  been 

Warnyng  of  thinges  that  men  after  seen. 

And  forthcrmore,  I  pray  yow  loketh  wel 

In  the  olde  Testament,  of  Daniel, 

If  he  huld  dremes  eny  vanyte. 

Rede  cek  of  Joseph,  and  ther  schal  yc  see  nio 

Whethir  dremes  ben  som  tyme  (I  say  nought  alle) 

Warnyng  of  thinges  tliat  schul  after  falle. 

Lok  of  Egipt  the  king,  daun  Pharao, 

His  baker  and  his  botiler  also, 

Whethir  thay  felte  noon  effect  in  dremis. 

Who-so  wol  soke  actes  of  sondry  remys. 

May  rede  of  dremes  many  a  wonder  thing. 

Lo  Cresus,  which  that  was  of  Lydes  king, 

Mette  he  nouht  that  he  sat  upon  a  tre, 

Which  signified  he  sehuld  hanged  be  ?  320 

Lo  hir  Andromachia,  Ectors  wif. 

That  day  that  Ector  schulde  lese  his  lif, 

Sche  dremed  on  the  same  night  byforn, 


THE  NONNE   PREST  HIS   TALE.  239 

How  that  the  lif  of  Ector  schulde  be  lorn, 

If  thilke  day  he  wente  in-to  batayle  ; 

Sche  warned  him,  but  it  might<^  nought  availe ; 

He  wente  forth  to  fighte  natheles, 

And  he  was  slayn  anoon  of  Achilles. 

But  thilke  tale  is  al  to  long  to  telle, 

And  eek  it  is  neigh  day,  I  may  not  ducUc.         3.30 

Schortly  I  say,  as  for  conclusion, 

That  I  schal  have  of  this  avisioun 

Adversite  ;  and  I  say  forthermore. 

That  I  ne  telle  of  laxatifs  no  store. 

For  thay  ben  venomous,  I  wot  it  wel ; 

I  hem  defye,  I  love  hem  never  a  del. 

'  Now  let  us  speke  of  mirtho,  and  lete  al  this; 
Madame  Pertilot,  so  have  I  blis. 
Of  0  thing  God  hath  me  sent  large  grace ; 
For  whan  I  see  the  beaute  of  your  face,  cio 

Ye  ben  so  scarlet  r'eede  about  your  eyghen, 
It  makith  al  my  drede  for  to  deyghcn, 
For,  also  siker  as  In  pnncipio, 
Midler  est  hominis  confiis'io. 
(^ladame,  the  sentence  of  this  Latyn  is. 
Womman  is  mannes  joye  and  mannes  blis.) 
For  when  I  fiele  a-night  your  softe  syde, 
Al  be  it  that  I  may  not  on  you  ryde, 
For  that  your  perche  is  mad  so  narrow,  alias ! 
I  am  so  ful  of  joye  and  of  solas,  s-'u 

That  I  defye  both  swevene  and  drem.' 
And  with  that  word  he  fleigh  doun  fro  the  bccm, 
For  it  was  day,  and  eek  his  hennes  alle ; 
And  with  a  chuk  he  gan  hem  for  to  ealle, 
For  he  hadcfe  found  a  corn,  lay  in  the  yard. 
Real  he  was,  he  was  nomorc  afcrd ; 


240  THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 

He  fetherid  Pertelote  twenty  tyme, 
And  trad  as  ofte,  er  that  it  was  prime. 
He  lokith  as  it  Avere  a  grim  lioun  ; 
And  on  his  toon  .he  rometh  up  and  doun,  seo 

Him  dcyncd  not  to  set  his  foot  to  grounde. 
He  chukkith,  Avhan  he  hath  a  corn  i-founde, 
And  to  him  rennen  than  his  wifes  alle. 
Thus  real,  as  a  prince  is  in  his  halle, 
Leve  I  this  chaunteclere  in  his  pasture ; 
And  after  wol  I  telle  his  adventure. 
Whan  that  the  moneth  in  which  the  world  bigan, 
That  highte  March,  whan  God  makede  first  man, 
Was  complet,  and  y-passed  were  also, 
Syn  March  bygan,  tway  monthes  and  dayes  tuo, 
Byfell  that  Chaunteclere  in  al  his  pride,  STi 

His  seven  wyves  walkyng  by  his  syde. 
Cast  up  his  eyghcn  to  the  brighte  sonne. 
That  in  the  signe  of  Taurus  had  i-ronne 
Twenty  degrees  and  oon,  and  somwhat  more  ; 
He  knew  by  kynde,  and  by  noon  other  lore, 
That  it  was  prime,  and  crew  with  blisful  stcven. 
'  The  Sonne,'  he  sayde,  '  is  elomben  up  on  heven 
Twenty  degrees  and  oon,  and  more  i-wis. 
Madame  Pertelot,  my  worldes  blis,  sso 

Herknith  these  blisful  briddes  how  thay  synge. 
And  seth  these  freissche  floures  how  thay  springe; 
Ful  is  myn  hert  of  revel  and  solaas.' 
But  sodeinly  him  fel  a  sorwful  caas; 
For  ever  the  latter  end  of  joye  is  wo. 
God  wot  that  worldy  joye  is  soone  ago ; 
And  if  a  rethor  couthe  faire  endite. 
He  in  a  chronique  saufly  might  hit  write, 
As  for  a  soverayn  notabilite. 


THE  NONNE  PREST  HIS   TALE.  241 

Now  every  wys  man  let  him  herkne  me  ;       soo 
This  story  is  also  trewe,  I  undertake, 
As  is  the  book  of  Launcelot  the  Lake, 
That  womman  huld  in  ful  gret  reverence. 
Now  wol  I  torne  agayn  to  my  sentence. 
A  colefox,  ful  of  sleighi  and  iniquite, 
That  in  the  grove  hadt^e  woned  yeres  thre, 
By  heigh  ymaginacioun  forncast, 
The  same  nighte  thurgho«i  the  hegges  brast 
Into  the  yerd,  ther  Chaunteclere  the  faire 
Was  wont,  and  eek  his  wyves,  to  repaire ;  400 

And  in  a  bed  of  wortes  stille  he  lay, 
Til  it  Avas  passed  undern  of  the  day, 
Waytyng  his  tyme  on  Chaunteclere  to  falle ; 
As  gladly  doon  these  homicides  alle, 
That  in  awayte  lyggew  to  morthre  men.      ^  ,  : 
0  false  mordrer  lurkyng  in  thy  den  ! 
0  newe  Scariot,  newe  Genilon  ! 
Fals  dissimilour,  0  Greke  Sinon, 
That  broughtest  Troye  al  outrely  to  sorwe  ! 
0  Chaunteclcr,  accursed  be  the  morwe,  410 

That  thou  into  the  yerd  floughc  fro  the  bcmys ! 
Thow  were  ful  wel  i-warned  by  thy  dremys. 
That  thilke  day  was  perilous  to  the. 
But  what  that  God  forwot  moste  necdes  be, 
After  the  opynyoun  of  certeyn  clerkis. 
Witnesse  on  him,  that  eny  jjcirfit  clerk  is, 
That  in  scole  is  gret  altercacioun 
In  this  matier,  and  gret  desputesoun, 
And  hath  ben  of  an  hundred  thousend  men. 
But  yit  I  can  not  bult  it  to  the  bren,  420 

As  can  the  holy  doctor  Augustyn, 
Or  Boece,  or  the  bisshop  Bradwardyn, 

VOL.  III.  11 


242  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

Whether  that  Goddis  worthy  forwetyng 
Streigncth  me  needcly  for  to  do  a  thing, 
(Needely  clepe  I  simple  necessite) ; 
Or  ellcs  if  fre  choys  be  graunted  me 
To  do  that  same  thing,  or  to  do  it  nought, 
Though  God  forwot  it,  cr  that  it  was  wrought ; 
Or  of  his  wityng  streyneth  never  a  deel, 
But  by  necessite  condicionel.  'tso 

I  wol  not  have  to  do  of  such  matiere  ; 
My  tale  is  of  a  cok,  as  ye  schal  hierc. 
That  took  his  counseil  of  his  wyf  with  sorwe, 
To  walken  in  the  yerd  upon  the  morwe, 
That  he  hadde  met  the  drerae,  that  I  yow  tolde. 
Wymmens  counsciles  ben  ful  ofte  colde : 
Wommannes  counseil  brought  us  first  to  woo. 
And  made  Adam  fro  paradys  to  go, 
Ther  as  he  was  ful  mery,  and  wel  at  ease. 
But  for  I  not,  to  ivhom  it  mightc  displease,         -mo 
If  1  counseil  of  womman  woldc  blame, 
Pas  over,  for  I  sayd  it  in  my  game. 
Red  auctours,  wher  thay  trete  of  such  matiere, 
And  what  thay  sayn  of  wommcn  ye  may  heere. 
These  been  the  cokkcs  wordes,  and  not  myne 
I  can  noon  harme  of  no  wommen  divine. 
Faire  in  the  send,  to  bathe  hir  merily, 
Lith  Pertelot,  and  alle  hir  sustrcs  by, 
Agayn  the  sonne ;  and  Chaunteclerc  so  free 
Sang  merier  than  the  meremayd  in  the  see ;      450 
For  Phisiologus  seith  sicurly. 
How  that  thay  syngen  wel  and  merily. 
And  so  byfel  that  as  he  cast  his  ye 
Among  the  wortes  on  a  boterflye. 
He  was  war  of  this  fox  that  lay  ful  lowe. 


THE  NOXNE  PREST  HIS  TALE.    243 

No  thing  no  list  him  thanno  for  to  crowe, 

But  cryde  anon,  '  cok,  cok/  and  up  he  stertc, 

As  man  that  was  affrayed  in  his  herte. 

For  naturelly  a  beest  desireth  flee 

Fro  his  contrarie,  if  he  may  it  see,  4(50 

Though  he  never  er  hadde  seyn  it  with  his  yc. 

This  Chaunteclcre,  whan  he  gan  it  aspye, 
He  wold  han  fled,  but  that  the  fox  anon 
Said,  '  Gcntil  sire,  alias !  why  wol  yc  goon  ? 
Be  ye  aflrayd  of  me  that  am  youre  trend  ? 
Now  ccrtcs,  I  were  worse  than  eny  feend, 
If  I  to  yow  wold  harm  or  vilonye. 
I  am  not  come  your  counsail  to  cspye. 
But  treweli/  the  cause  of  m//  comyngc 
Was  onhj  for  to  herken  how  ye  singe,  170 

For  trewely  ye  have  als  mery  a  steven, 
As  eny  aungel  hath,  that  is  in  heven ; 
Therwith  ye  han  of  musik  more  fclyngc, 
Than  hadde  Boece,  or  eny  that  can  syngo. 
My  lord  your  fader  (God  his  soule  blesse) 
And  eke  youre  moder  of  her  gentilesse 
Han  in  myn  hous  ibeen,  to  my  gret  ease ; 
And  certes,  sire,  ful  fayn  wold  I  yow  please. 
But  for  men  speke  of  syngyng,  I  wol  saye, 
So  mot  I  brouke  wel  myn  yen  twayt^,  iso 

Save  ye,  I  herde  never  man  so  syngc. 
As  dede  your  fadir  in  the  morwenynge. 
Certes  it  was  of  hert  al  that  he  song. 
And  for  to  make  his  vois  the  more  strong. 
He  wolde  so  peynen  him,  that  with  bothe  hi:j  ^  cii 
He  moste  wynke,  so  lowde  he  wolde  crien, 
And  stonden  on  his  typtoon  therwithal. 
And  strechc  forth  his  necke  long  and  smal. 


244  THE  CANTERBURY  TALES. 

And  cek  he  was  of  such  discrcssioun, 

That  ther  nas  no  man  in  no  regioun  490 

That  him  in  song  or  wisdom  mighte  passe. 

I  have  wel  rad  in  daun  Burncl  thasse 

Among  his  verses,  how  thcr  was  a  cok, 

That,  for  a  prestos  sone  yaf  him  a  knok 

Upon  his  leg,  whil  he  was  yong  and  nyce, 

He  made  him  for  to  lese  his  benefice. 

But  certeyn  ther  is  no  comparisoun 

Betwix  the  wisdom  and  discrcssioun 

Of  yourc  fader,  and  of  his  subtilte. 

Now  syngcth,  sire,  for  seinte  Charite',  500 

Let  se,  can  ye  your  fader  countrefete  ?' 

This  Chauntcclere  his  wynges  gan  to  bete, 

As  man  that  couthe  his  trcsoun  nought  espye, 

So  was  he  ravyssht  with  his  fiatcrie. 

Alias  !  lordynges,  many  a  fals  flatour 
Is  in  your  hous,  and  many  a  losengour. 
That  pleasen  yow^  wel  more,  by  my  faith, 
Than  he  that  sothfastnesse  unto  yow  saith. 
Redith  Ecclesiast  of  fiaterie  ; 
Beth  war,  ye  lordes,  of  her  trecchcrie.  sic 

This  Chaunteclerc  stood  hciglie  upon  his  toos, 
Strecching  his  necke,  and  held  his  yhen  cloos, 
And  gan  to  crowe  lowde  for  the  noones ; 
And  daun  Russel  the  fox  stert  up  at  oones, 
And  by  the  garget  hcnte  Chauntcclere, 
And  on  his  bak  toward  the  woode  him  here. 
For  yit  was  there  no  man  that  him  sewed. 
0  desteny,  that  maist  not  ben  eschiewed  ! 
Alias,  that  Chauntcclere  fleigh  fro  the  bemis  1 
Alias,  his  wif  ne  roughtc  nought  of  dremis  !       S20 
And  on  a  Friday  fcl  al  this  mcschauncc. 


THE  NONNE   PREST  HIS   TALE.  245 

0  Venus,  that  art  goddesse  of  pleasaunce, 

Syn  that  thy  servant  was  this  Chauuteelere, 

And  in  thy  service  did  al  his  powere, 

More  for  delit,  than  the  world  to  multiplie, 

Why  woldcst  thou  suffre  him  on  thy  day  to  dye  ? 

0  Gaufred,  dere  mayster  soverayn. 

That,  whan  the  worthy  king  Rieliard  was  slayn 

With  schot,  compleynedist  his  deth  so  sore, 

Why  ne  had  I  nought  thy  sentence  and  thy  lore, 

The  Friday  for  to  chiden,  as  dede  ye  ?  .v.i 

(For  on  a  Fryday  sothly  slayn  was  he.) 

Than  wold  I  schewe  yoiv  how  that  I  couthe  pleyne, 

For  Chaunteelercs  drcde,  and  for  his  peyne. 

Certis  such  cry  nc  lamentacioun 
Was  never  of  ladies  maad,  whan  Ilioun 
Was  wonne,  and  Pirrus  with  his  streite  swerd. 
Whan  he  had  hente  kyng  Priam  by  the  herd, 
And  slaugh  him  (as  saith  us  Eneydos), 
As  maden  alle  the  hennes  in  the  clos,  540 

Whan  thay  hadcZe  seyn  of  Chauntecler  the  sightc. 
But  soveraignly  dam  Pertelote  schrightc, 
Ful  lowder  than  did  Hasdrubaldes  wyf. 
Whan  that  hir  housebond  hadde  lost  his  lyf, 
And  that  the  Romayns  had  i-brent  Cartage, 
Sche  was  so  ful  of  torment  and  of  raa-e 
That  wilfully  unto  the  fuyr  sche  sterte, 
And  brend  hirselven  with  a  stedfast  lierte. 
0  woful  hennes,  right  so  cride  ye, 
As,  whan  that  Nero  brente  the  cite  5.50 

Of  Rome,  cridcn  the  senatoures  wyves. 
For  that  her  hoasbondes  losten  alle  here  lyves ; 
Withouten  gult  this  Nero  hath  hem  slayn. 
Now  wol  I  torne  to  my  matier  agayn. 


24G  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

The  scly  wydow,  and  hir  doughtrcs  tiio, 

Herden  these  hennj-.s  erie  and  niaken  wo, 

And  out  at.dores  starte  thay  anoon, 

And  sa?(7en  the  fox  toward  the  givve  goon, 

And  bar  upon  his  bak  the  cok  away  ; 

The?/  cridon,  '  Out !  harrow  and  wayleway  !        sco 

Ha,  ha,  the  fox !'  and  after  him  thay  ranne, 

And  eek  with  staves  many  another  mamie; 

Ran  CoUe  our  dogge,  and  Talbot,  and  Garlond, 

And  Malkyn,  with  a  distaf  in  hir  bond  ; 

Ran  cow  and  calf,  and  cck  the  vcrray  hogges 

Sore  fared  were  for  berkyng  of  doggcs, 

And  sehowtyng  of  the  men  and  wymmen  eke, 

Thay  ronne  that  thay  thought  her  herte  breke. 

Thay  yoUeden  as  feendes  doon  in  belle ; 

The  dokes  criden  as  men  wold  hem  quelle ;         570 

The  gees  for  fere  flowen  over  the  trees ; 

Out  of  the  hyves  cam  the  swarm  of  bees; 

So  hidous  was  the  noyse,  a  benecUclte! 

Cartes  he  Jakke  Straw,  and  his  meyne, 

Ne  maden  sehoutes  never  half  so  sehrille, 

Whan  that  thay  wolden  eny  Flemyng  kille, 

As  thilke  day  was  maad  upon  the  fox. 

Of  bras  thay  brough^e/z  homes  and  of  box, 

Of  horn  and  boon,  in  which  thay  blew  and  powpedf. 

And  therwithal  thay  schryked  and  thay  howpede ; 

It  semed  tho  as  that  heven  sehulde  falle.  ssi 

Now,  goode  men,  I  pray  yow  herkncth  alle  ; 
Lo,  how  fortune  torneth  sodeinly 
The  hope  and  pride  eek  of  her  enemy  ! 
This  cok  that  lay  upon  this  foxes  bak, 
In  al  his  drede,  unto  the  fox  he  spak, 
And  saide,  '  Sire,  if  that  I  were  as  ye, 


THE  NONNE  PREST  HIS  TALE.  247 

Yet  schuld  I  sayn  (as  wis^y  God  helpe  rae), 

Turneth  ayein,  ye  proude  cherles  alle  ! 

A  verray  pestilens  upon  yow  falle  !  590 

Now  am  I  come  unto  this  woodes  syde, 

Maugre  youre  hede,  the  cok  sehal  heer  abyde ; 

I  wol  him  ete  in  faith,  and  that  anoon.' 

The  fox  answerd,  '  In  faith,  it  schal  be  doon.' 

And  whil  he  spak  that  word,  al  sodeinly 

This  cok  brak  from  his  mouth  delyverly, 

And  heigh  upon  a  tree  he  fleigh  anoon. 

And  whan  the  fox  seigh  that  he  was  i-goon, 

'  Alias !'  quod  he,  '  0  Chaunteclere,  alias  ? 

'  I  have  to  yow,'  quod  he,  '  y-don  trespas,         coo 

Inasmoche  as  I  makid  yow  aferd, 

Whan  I  yow  hcnt,  and  brought  out  of  the  yerd  ; 

But,  sire,  I  dede  it  novrjht  in  no  wickid  entente ; 

Com  doun,  and  I  schal  telle  yow  what  I  ment^. 

I  sehal  say  soth  to  yow,  God  help  me  so.' 

'  Nay  than,'  quod  he,  '  I  schrew  us  bothe  tuo. 

And  first  I  sehrew  myself,  bothe  blood  and  boones, 

If  thou  bigile  me  any  ofter  than  oones. 

Thou  schalt  no  more,  thurgh  thy  flaterye. 

Do  me  to  synge  nnd  wynke  with  mj'n  ye.  cio 

For  he  that  wj^nkith,  Avhan  he  seholde  see, 

Al  wilfully,  God  let  him  never  the  !' 

'  Nay,'  quod  the  fox, 'but  God  yive  him  mesehaunee, 

That  is  so  undiscret  of  governaunce. 

That  jangleth,  when  he  seholde  holde  his  pees.' 

Lo,  such  it  is  for  to  be  recheles. 
And  necligent,  and  trust  on  flaterie. 
But  ye  that  holde  this  tale  a  folye. 
As  of  a  fox,  or  of  a  cok  or  of  an  hen, 
Takith  the  moralite  therof,  goode  men,  620 


248 


THE  CANTERBURY   TALES. 


For  seint  Poul  saith,  that  al  that  writen  is, 
To  oure  doctrine  it  is  i- write  i-wys. 
Takith  the  fruyt,  and  let  the  chaf  be  stille. 
Now,  goode  God,  if  that  it  be  thy  wille, 
As  saith  my  lord,  so  make  i;s  alle  goode  men ; 
And  bring  us  alle  to  his  hiyhe  blisee.     Amen. 


249 


THE   PROLOGE   OF  THE   MAUNCIPLES 
TALE. 

;0T  ye  not  wher  ther  stont  a  litel  toim, 
Which  that  ieleped  is  Bob-up-an-donn, 
Under  the  Ble,  in  Canterbury  Avaj-e  ? 
Ther  gan  our  Hostefor  to  jape  and  plavi', 
And  sayde,  '  Sires,  what  ?    Dun  is  in  the  myre  ! 
Is  ther  no  man  for  prayer  ne  for  hyre, 
That  wol  awake  our  felawe  al  byhynde  ? 
A  theef  him  mighte  ful  lightly  robbe  and  bynde. 
Se  how  he  nappith,  se,  for  Goddes  boones ! 
That  he  wol  falle  fro  his  hors  at  ones.  lo 

Is  that  a  cook  of  Londoune,  with  meschaunce  ? 
Do  him  come  forth,  he  knoweth  his  penaunce ; 
For  he  schal  telle  a  tale,  by  my  fay, 
Although  it  be  nought  worth  a  hotel  hay. 
Awake,  thou  cook,  sit  up,  God  yif  the  sorwe  ! 
What  eyleth  the,  to  slepe  by  the  morwe  ? 
Hast  thou  had  fleen  al  night,  or  artow  dronke  ? 
Or  hastow  with  some  quen  al  night  i-swonke, 
So  that  thou  maist  not  holdcn  up  thj-n  heed  ?' 
This  Cook,  that  was  ful  pale  and  nothing  reed,   20 
Sayd  to  our  Host,  So  God  my  soule  blesse, 
As  ther  is  falle  on  me  such  hcvynesse. 
Not  I  nought  why,  that  me  were  lever  slepc. 
Than  the  beste  galoun  W}ti  that  is  in  Chepe.' 


250  THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 

'  Wei,'  quod  the  Maunciple,  '  if  It  may  (loon 
ease 
To  the,  sir  cook,  and  to  no  wight  displease, 
\Yhich  that  her  rydeth  in  this  compaignye, 
And  that  our  host  wolde  of  his  curteisie, 
I  wol  as  now  excuse  the  of  thy  tale ; 
For  in  good  faith  thi  visage  is  ful  pale.  so 

Thyn  eyen  daswen  eek,  also  me  thinkith, 
And  wel  I  woot,  thy  breth  ful  foule  stynkith, 
That  scheweth  cek  thou  art  nought  wel  disposid  ; 
Of  me  certeyn  thou  schalt  nought  ben  i-glosed. 
Se  how  he  ganith,  lo  !  this  dronken  wight ! 
As  though  he  wolde  us  swolwe  anoon  right. 
Hold  clos  thy  mouth,  man,  by  thy  fader  kynne  I 
The  devel  of  hello  sette  his  foot  therinne  ! 
Thy  cursed  breth  enfecte  wil  us  alle. 
Fy,  stynkyng  swyno  !  foule  mot  the  falle  !  40 

A !  takith  heed,  sires,  of  this  lusty  man. 
Now,  swete  sir,  wol  ye  joust  atte  fan  ? 
Therto,  me  thinkith,  ye  beth  right  wel  i-schape, 
I  trowe  that  ye  han  dronken  wyn  of  ape. 
And  that  is  whan  men  playen  with  a  straw.' 

And  with  his  speche  the  Cook  wax  ivrothe  and 
wraw, 
And  on  the  Maunciple  gan  nodde  he  faste 
For  lak  of  speche  ;  and  doun  the  hors  him  caste^ 
Wher  as  he  lay,  til  that  men  him  ixp  took. 
This  was  a  fair  chivache  of  a  cook  !  50 

Alias !  that  he  nad  hold  him  by  his  ladil ! 
And  er  that  he  agayn  were  in  his  sadil, 
Ther  was  gret  schowvyng  bothe  to  and  fro 
To  lift  him  up,  and  moeheZ  care  and  wo, 
So  unwelde  was  this  sory  pallid  gost. 


THE  PROLOG E  OP  THE  MAUNCIPLE.      251 

And  to  the  Maunclple  thanne  spak  oure  Host : 

'  Bycause  that  drink  hath  dominacioun 

Upon  this  man,  by  my  saZvaeioun 

I  trow  he  lewedly  tel  wol  his  tale. 

For  were  it  wyn,  or  old  mojsty  ale,  60 

That  he  hath  dronk,  he  spekith  in  his  nose, 

And  snesith  fast,  and  cck  he  hath  the  pose. 

He  hath  also  to  do  more  than  vnough 

To  kepe  him  and  his  capil  out  of  the  slough 

And  if  ho  fallo  fro  his  capil  eftsone, 

Than  schal  we  alle  have  ynough  to  doone 

In  liftyng  up  his  he\y  dronken  cors. 

Tel  on  thy  tale,  of  him  make  I  no  fors. 

But  yit,  Maunciple,  in  faith  thou  art  to  nyoo, 

Thus  openly  reproeve  him  of  his  vice ;  70 

Another  day  he  wil,  par  adventure, 

Reelayme  the,  and  bringe  the  to  lure ; 

I  mene,  he  speke  wol  of  smale  thinges. 

As  for  to  pynchyn  at  thy  rekenynges, 

That  were  not  honest,  if  it  cam  to  pref.' 

Quod  the  Maunciple,  '  That  were  a  gret  mesehicf : 

So  might  he  lightly  bringe  me  in  the  snare 

Yit  had  I  lever  payen  for  the  mare 

Which  he  ryt  on,  than  he  sehulde  with  me  stryve. 

I  wil  not  wrath  him,  also  mot  I  thrive  !  so 

That  that  I  spak,  I  sayd  it  in  my  bourde. 

And  wite  ye  what  ?  I  have  heer  in  a  gourde 

A  draught  of  wyn,  ye  of  a  ripe  grape. 

And  right  anoon  ye  schal  se  a  good  jape. 

This  cook  schal  drinke  therof,  if  I  may ; 

Up  peyn  of  deth  he  wol  nought  saye  me  nny.' 

And  eerteinly,  to  tellen  as  it  was, 

Of  this  vessel  the  cook  dronk  fast,  (alias ! 


252  THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 

What  needith  it?  he  drank  ynough  biforn)  ; 

And  whan  lie  hadde  pouped  in  his  liorn,  90 

To  the  Maunciple  he  took  the  gourd  agayn. 

And  of  that  draught  the  Cook  was  wonder  fayn, 

And  thanked  him  in  such  wise  as  he  couthe. 

Than  gan  our  Host  to  laughe  wonder  louthe. 

And  sayd,  '  I  so  wel  it  is  necessarie 

Wher  that  we  go  good  drynk  with  us  to  carie ; 

For  that  wol  tornc  rancour  and  desese 

To  accord  and  love,  and  many  a  loronge  appese, 

0  thou  Bacus,  i-blessid  be  thin  name, 

That  so  canst  tornen  ernest  into  game !  100 

Worschip  and  thonke  be  to  thy  deite ! 

Of  that  matier  ye  get  no  more  of  me. 

Tel  on  thi  tale,  Mauneipel,  I  the  pray.' 

'  Wel,  sir/  quod  he,  '  now  herkyn  what  I  say.' 


THE  MAUNCIPLES  TALE. 

'HAN  Phebus  duelt  her  in  this  ert he  adoun , 
As  olde  bookes  maken  mencioun, 
He  was  the  moste  lusty  bachiler 
Of  al  this  world,  and  eek  the  best  archer. 
He  slough  Phiton  the  serpent,  as  he  lay 
Slepyng  agayn  the  sonnc  upon  a  day ; 
And  many  another  noble  worthy  dede 
He  with  his  bowe  wrought,  as  men  may  rede. 
Pleyen  he  couthe  on  every  raynstralcye, 
And  syngen,  that  it  was  a  melodye  10 


THE  MAUNCIPLES  TALE.  253 

To  heren  of  his  clere  vols  the  soun. 

Certes  the  kyng  of  Thebes,  Amphioiin, 

That  with  his  singyng  wallide  that  citee, 

Couthe  never  synge  half  so  wel  as  he. 

Therto  he  Avas  the  scmlieste  man, 

That  is  or  was,  siththen  the  world  bigan. 

What  nedith  it  his  fetures  to  descrive? 

For  in  this  worldc,  is  noon  so  f aire  on  lyve. 

lie  was  thcrwith  fulfild  of  gentilesce, 

Of  honour,  and  of  parfyt  worthincsse.  20 

This  Phebiis,  that  was  flour  of  bachilerie, 
As  Avel  in  fredom,  as  in  chivalrie, 
For  his  disport,  in  signe  eke  of  victoric 
Of  Phiton,  so  as  telleth  us  the  storie, 
Was  wont  to  beren  in  his  bond  a  bowe. 
Now  hadc?e  this  Phebus  in  his  hous  a  crowc, 
Which  in  a  cage  he  fostred  many  a  day, 
And  taught  it  speken,  as  men  doon  a  jay. 
Whit  Avas  this  crowe,  as  is  a  snow-whyt  awwa, 
And  countrefete  the  speche  of  every  man  so 

He  couthe,  whan  he  schulde  telle  a  talc. 
Ther  is  withinne  this  world  no  nightingale 
Ne  couthe  by  an  hundred  thousend  del 
Singe  so  wonder  merily  and  wel. 
Now  hadfZe  this  Phebus  in  his  hous  a  wyf, 
Which  that  he  lovcde  more  than  his  lif, 
And  night  and  day  did  evermor  diligence 
Hir  for  to  please,  and  doon  hir  reverence ; 
Sauf  oonly,  if  the  soth  that  I  schal  sayn, 
Jalous  he  was,  and  wold  have  kept  hir  fayn,         10 
For  him  were  loth  bijaped  for  to  be ; 
And  so  is  every  Avight  in  such  degre ; 
But  al  for  nought,  for  it  availeth  nought. 


254  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

A  good  wyf,  that  is  clone  of  work  and  thought, 

Schuldt;  not  be  kept  in  noon  awayt,  ccrtayn ; 

And  trewely  the  labour  is  in  vayn 

To  kepe  a  schrewe,  for  it  wil  nought  be 

This  hold  I  for  a  vcrray  nycete, 

To  spillc  labour  for  to  kepe  wyvcs ; 

Thus  olde  clcrkes  writen  in  her  lyvcs.  50 

But  now  to  purpos,  as  I  first  bigan. 
This  worthi  Phebus  doth  al  that  he  can 
To  pleasen  hir,  wenyng  by  such  plesaunce, 
And  for  his  manhod  and  his  governaunce, 
That  no  man  schuld  han  put  him  fro  hir  grace. 
But,  God  it  woot,  ther  may  no  man  embrace 
As  to  destrey/te  a  thing,  the  which  nature 
Hath  naturelly  set  in  a  creature. 
Tak  any  brid,  and  put  him  in  a  cage, 
And  do  al  thin  entent,  find  thy  corrage,  60 

To  foster  it  tenderly  with  mete  and  drynke, 
And  with  alle  the  deyntees  thou  canst  bethirike, 
And  keep  it  al  so  kyndly  as  thou  may ; 
Although  his  cage  of  gold  be  never  so  gay, 
Yit  hath  this  brid,  by  twenty  thousand  fold, 
Lever  in  a  forest,  (hat  is  wyld  and  cold, 
Gon  ete  Avormcs,  and  such  wrecchidnes, 
For  ever  this  brid  wil  doon  his  busynes 
To  scape  out  of  his  cage  whan  that  he  may ; 
His  liberte  the  brid  desircth  aye.  70 

Let  take  a  cat,  and  foster  him  wel  with  niylk 
And  tender  fleiseh,  and  mak  his  bed  of  silk, 
And  let  him  see  a  mous  go  by  the  wal, 
Anoon  he  wayveth  mylk  and  fleiseh,  and  al, 
And  every  deynte  which  is  in  that  hous. 
Such  appetit  hath  he  to  ete  the  mous. 


THE   MAUNCIPLES   TALE.  255 

Lo,  heer  hath  kynd  his  dominacioun, 

And  appetit  llemeth  discrescioun. 

Also  a  sche  wolf  hath  a  vilayns  kynde ; 

The  lewideste  wolf  that  sche  may  fynde,  so 

Or  lest  of  reputacioun,  him  avoI  sche  take 

In  tyrae  whan  hir  lust  to  have  a  make. 

Alia  this  ensamples  tel  I  by  this  men 

That  ben  untrewe,  and  nothing  by  wommeu. 

For  men  ha;i  ever  a  licorous  appetit 

On  lower  thing  to  parforme  her  delit 

Than  on  her  wyves,  ben  thay  never  so  faire, 

Ne  never  so  trewe,  ne  so  dcbonaire. 

Fleissch  is  so  nowfongil,  with  meschaunce, 

That  we  can  in  no  thinge  have  plesaunce  oo 

That  souneth  into  vertu  eny  while. 

This  Phebus,  which  that  thought  upon  no  gile, 

Deceyved  was  for  al  his  jolite ; 

For  under  him  another  hadde  sche, 

A  man  of  litil  reputacioun, 

Nought  worth  to  Phebus  in  comparisoun. 

Mor  harm  it  is ;  it  happeth  ofte  so  ; 

Of  which  ther  cometh  bothe  harm  and  woo. 

And  so  bifel,  whan  Phebus  was  absent, 

His  wif  anoon  hath  for  hir  lemman  sent.  loo 

Her  lemman  ?  certcs,  this  is  a  knaviseh  spechc  ; 

Foryiveth  it  me,  and  that  I  yow  biseche. 

The  wise  Plato  saith,  as  yc  may  rede, 

The  word  mot  needs  accordc  with  the  dede, 

If  men  schal  telle  propurly  a  thing, 

The  word  mot  cordc  with  the  thing  wcrkyng. 

I  am  a  boystous  man,  right  thus  say  I ; 

There  is  no  difference  trcwely 

Bytwix  a  wyf  that  :.j  of  heigh  degre, 


256  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

(If,  of  hir  body  dishonest  sche  be)  no 

And  a  porerere  wenche,  other  then  this, 

(If  so  be  thay  werke  bothe  amys) 

But  that  the  gcntil  in  cstat  above 

Sche  schal  be  clcped  his  hidy  as  in  love ; 

And,  for  that  other  is  a  pore  womman, 

Sche  schal  be  clcped  his  Avenche  and  his  leraman ; 

And,  God  it  wot,  my  goode  lieve  brother, 

!Men  layn  that  oon  as  lowe  as  hjth  that  other. 

Right  so  bctwixc  a  ti^eles  tiraunt 

And  an  outlawe,  or  a  thef  erraunt,  no 

The  same  I  say,  there  is  no  difference, 

(To  Alisaunder  told  v/as  this  sentence) 

But,  for  the  tiraunt  is  of  greter  might 

By  force  of  meyne  for  to  sle  doun  right, 

And  brenne  hous  and  home,  and  make  al  playn, 

Lo,  thcrfor  is  he  clcped  a  capitayn  ; 

And,  for  an  outlawe  hath  no  smal  meyne. 

And  may  not  doon  so  gret  an  harm  as  he, 

Ne  bringe  a  contre  to  so  gret  meschief, 

Men  clepen  him  an  outlawe  or  a  theef.  iso 

But,  for  I  am  a  man  not  texted  wel, 

I  wil  not  telle  of  tcxtcs  never  a  del ; 

I  wol  go  to  my  tale,  as  I  bigan. 

Whan  Phebus  Avyf  hadcZe  sent  for  hir  Icmman, 
Anon  thay  wroughten  al  her  wil  volage. 
This  white  crow,  that  hcng  alway  in  cage, 
Bihild  her  werk,  and  sayde  never  a  word. 
And  Avhan  that  horn  was  come  Phebus  the  lord, 
This  crowc  song,  '  Cuckow,  cuckow,  cuckow  1' 
'  What?  brid,' quod  Phebus,  'what  song  syngistow? 
No  were  thou  wont  so  merily  to  syngc,  i  u 

That  to  myn  hert  it  was  a  rejoysynge 


THE   MAUNCIPLES   TALE.  257 

To  here  thi  vois  ?  alias !  what  song  is  this  ?' 
'  By  God/  quod  he,  '  I  synge  not  amys. 
Phebus,'  quod  he,  *  for  al  thy  worthynes, 
For  al  thy  bcaute  and  thy  gentiles, 
For  alle  thy  songes,  and  thy  menstralcie, 
For  al  thy  waytyng,  blered  is  thin  ye. 
With  con  of  litel  reputacioun, 
Nought  worth  to  the  as  in  comparisoun  iso 

The  mountauns  of  a  gnat,  so  mot  I  thrive  ; 
For  on  thy  bed  thy  wif  I  saugh  him  swyve.' 
What  wol  ye  more  ?  the  crowe  anoon  him  toldc. 
By  sadde  toknes,  and  by  Avordes  boldc, 
How  that  his  wyf  hadde  doon  hir  leecherie. 
Him  to  gret  schame,  and  to  gret  vilonye ; 
And  told  him  oft  he  saugh  it  with  his  yen. 
This  Phebus  gan  aAvay-ward  for  to  wryen ; 
Him  thought  his  sorwfal  hertc  brast  on  tuo. 
His  bowe  he  bent,  and  sette  therin  a  flo ;  160 

And  in  his  ire  he  hath  his  wif  i-slain  ; 
This  is  theffect,  ther  is  no  more  to  sayn. 
For  sorw  of  which  he  brak  his  mcnstralcye, 
Bothe  harp  and  lute,  gitern,  and  sauteric ; 
And  eek  he  brak  his  arwes,  and  his  bowe  ; 
And  after  that  thus  spak  he  to  the  crowe ; 
'  Traytour,'  quod  he,  '  with  tunge  of  scorpioun, 
Thow  hast  me  brought  to  my  confusioun; 
Alias  that  I  was  born  !  why  nere  I  deed  ? 
0  dcre  wyf,  0  gemme  of  lustyhed,  170 

That  were  to  me  so  sad,  and  cok  so  trewe. 
Now  liest  thou  deed,  with  face  pale  of  hewe, 
Ful  gulteles,  that  dorst  I  swere  i-wis. 
0  racle  hond,  to  do  so  foule  amys. 
0  trouble  wit,  0  ire  rccheles, 
VOL.  III.  a 


2r-8  THE   CANTERBURY    TALES. 

That  unavysed  smytest  gulteles. 

0  wantrust,  ful  of  fals  suspeecioun, 

Wlier  was  thy  wit  and  thy  discrecioun  ? 

0,  every  man  be  war  of  raclenessc, 

Ne  trowe  no  thing  withoute  gret  witnessc.         lao 

Smyt  nought  to  soone,  er  that  thou  witc  v>liy, 

And  be  avysed  wcl  and  sobrely, 

Er  ye  doon  eny  execucioun 

Upon  your  ire  for  suspeecioun. 

Alias !  a  thousand  folk  hath  racle  ire 

Fordoon,  or  Dun  hath  brought  hem  in  the  myre. 

Alias !  for  sorw  I  wil  mj'selven  sle.' 

And  to  the  crowe,  '  0  false  theef,'  sayd  he, 

'  I  wyl  the  quyt  anoon  thy  false  tale. 

Thow  songe  whilom  as  any  nightyngale,  190 

Now  schaltow,  false  thef,  thy  s  )ng  forgoon, 

And  eek  thy  white  fetheres,  everichoon, 

Ne  never  in  al  thy  lyf  ne  schaltow  speke  ; 

Thus  schal  men  on  a  fals  theef  ben  awreke. 

Thou  and  thin  ofcpring  ever  schuln  be  blake, 

Ne  never  sweete  noyse  schul  ye  make, 

But  ever  crye  agayn  tempest  and  rayn, 

In  tokenyng  that  thurgh  the  my  wyf  was  slayn.' 

And  to  the  crowe  he  stert,  and  that  anoon, 
And  puld  his  white  fetheres  cverychoon,  200 

And  made  him  blak,  and  raft  him  ul  his  song, 
And  eek  his  speche,  and  out  at  dore  him  slong 
Unto  the  devel,  which  I  him  bytake ; 
And  for  this  cause  ben  alle  crowcs  blake. 

Lordyngs,  by  this  ensample,  I  yow  praye, 
Beth  war,  and  taketh  kepe  what  that  ye  saye ; 
Ne  tellith  never  man  in  al  youre  lif, 
How  that  another  man  hath  dight  his  wyf; 


THE   MAIJNCIPLES   TALE.  2o& 

He  wol  you  hatin  mortelly  certeyn. 

Daun  Salamon,  as  wise  clerkes  seyn,  210 

Techeth  a  man  to  kepe  his  tonge  "wel. 

But,  as  I  sayd,  I  am  nought  tixted  wel ; 

But  natheles  thus  taughte  me  my  dame ; 

'  My  sone,  thenk  on  the  crowe,  in  Goddes  name. 

My  son,  keep  wel  thy  tonge,  and  kep  thy  frend ; 

A  wicked  tonge  is  worse  than  is  a  feend ; 

My  sone,  fro  a  feend  men  may  hem  blesse. 

My  sone,  God  of  his  endeles  goodnesse 

Wallid  a  tonge  with  teeth,  and  lippes  eek, 

For  man  schal  him  avyse  what  he  speek.  220 

My  sone,  ful  ofte  for  to  mochil  speche 

Hath  many  a  man  be  spilt,  as  clerkes  teche ; 

But  for  a  litil  speche  avisily 

Is  no  man  schent,  to  speke  generally. 

My  sone,  thy  tonge  scholdest  thou  restreigne 

At  alle  tyme,  but  whan  thou  dost  thy  peyne 

To  spcke  of  God  in  honour  and  prayere. 

The  firste  vertue,  sone,  if  thou  wilt  lere. 

Is  to  restreigne  and  kepe  wel  thy  tonge ; 

Thus  lerne  children,  whan  that  thay  ben  yonge.    230 

!My  sone,  of  mochil  speking  cvel  avised, 

Ther  lassc  speking  had  ynough  sufRscd, 

Cometh  mochil  harm ;  thus  was  me  told  and  taught ; 

In  niochel  speche  synne  wantith  nought. 

Wost  thou  wherof  a  racle  tonge  serveth  ? 

Right  as  a  swcrd  for-kutteth  and  /or-kerveth 

An  arm  atuo,  my  dere  sone,  right  so 

A  tonge  cutteth  frendschip  al  atuo. 

A  jangler  is  to  God  abhominablc. 

Red  Salamon,  so  wys  and  honurable.  240 

Red  David  in  his  Psalmes,  reed  Senek. 


260  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

My  sone,  spek  not,  but  with  thy  heed  thou  bek, 

Dissimul  as  thou  were  dee/,  if  that  thou  heere 

A  jangler  speke  of  perilous  mateere. 

The  Flemyng  saith,  and  lere  it  if  the  lest, 

That  litil  jangling  causeth  mochil  rest. 

IMy  sone,  if  thou  no  wikked  word  hast  sayd. 

The  thar  not  drcde  for  to  be  bywrayd ; 

But  he  that  hath  myssayd,  I  dar  wcl  sayn, 

He  may  by  no  way  clepe  his  word  agayn.  '^.o 

Thing  that  is  sayd  is  sayd,  and  forth  it  goth. 

Though  him  repent,  or  be  him  never  so  loth, 

He  is  his  thral,  to  whom  that  he  hath  sayd 

A  tale,  of  Avhich  he  is  now  yvel  apayd. 

My  sone,  be  war,  and  be  noon  auctour  newe 

Of  tydyngs,  whether  thay  ben  fals  or  trewe ; 

Wher-so  thou  comest,  amonges  heih  or  lowc, 

Kep  wel  thy  tonge,  and  thenk  upon  the  or  owe. 


PROLOGE  OF  THE  PERSONES  TALE.  2G1 


THE  PROLOGE  OF  THE  PERSONES  TALE. 


I^^Y  that  the  Maimciple  had  his  tale  endid, 
^  The  Sonne  fro  the  south  line  isdeseendid 
^  So  lowe,  that  it  nas  nought  to  my  sight 
—    Degrees  nyne  and  twenty  as  in  hight, 
Foure  on  the  clokke  it  was,  so  as  I  gesse, 
For  enleven  foote,  or  litil  more  or  Icsse, 
My  schadow  was  at  thilke  tyme  of  the  yere, 
Of  whiche  feet  as  my  lengthe  parted  were 
In  sixe  feet  equal  of  proporeioun. 
Therwith  the  mones  exaltacioun,  lo 

In  mena  Libra,  ahvay  gan  ascende, 
As  we  were  entryng  at  a  townes  ende. 
For  which  our  Host,  as  he  was  Avont  to  gye, 
As  in  this  caas,  our  joly  compaignye, 
Sayd  in  this  wise  :   '  Lordyngs,  everichoon. 
Now  lakketh  us  no  tales  moo  than  oon, 
Fulfilled  is  my  sentens  and  my  decre ; 
I  trowe  that  we  han  herd  of  ech  degre. 
Almost  fulfilled  is  myn  ordynaunce ; 
I  pray  to  God  so  yeve  him  right  good  chaunce,   20 
That  tellith  to  us  his  tale  lustily. 
Sire  prest,'  quod  he,  '  artow  a  vicory  ? 
Or  artow  a  persoun  ?  say  soth,  by  thy  fay. 
Be  what  thou  be,  ne  breke  thou  nought  oure  play ; 
For  every  man,  save  thou,  hath  told  his  tale. 
Unboele,  and  schew  us  what  is  in  thy  male, 


262  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

For  trewely  me  thinketh  by  thy  chier, 
Thou  scholdist  wel  knyt  up  a  gret  matier. 
Tel  us  a  fable  anoon,  for  cokkes  boones  ! ' 

This  Persoun  him  answerde  al  at  oones :  30 

'  Thow  getist  fable  noon  i-told  for  me, 
For  Poul,  that  -wnteth  unto  Timothe, 
Repreveth  hem  that  weyveth  sothfastnesse, 
And  tellen  fables,  and  such  wreechednesse. 
Why  schuld  I  sowen  draf  out  of  my  fest. 
Whan  I  may  sowe  whete,  if  that  me  lest  ? 
For  which  I  say,  if  that  yoAV  lust  to  hiere 
Moralite  and  vertuous  matiere, 
And  thanne  that  ye  wil  yive  me  audience, 
I  wol  fill  fayn  at  Cristis  reverence  40 

Do  yow  plesaunce  leful,  as  I  can. 
But  trusteth  wel,  I  am  a  suthern  man, 
I  can  not  geste,  run,  ram,  ruf,  by  letter, 
Ne,  God  wot,  rym  hold  I  but  litel  better. 
And  therfor,  if  yow  lust,  I  wol  not  glose, 
I  wol  yow  telle  a  mery  tale  in  prose, 
To  knyt  up  al  this  fest,  and  make  an  ende ; 
And  Jhesu  for  his  grace  wit  me  sende 
To  schewe  yow  the  way,  in  this  viage. 
Of  thilke  parfyt  glorious  pilgrimage  50 

That  hatte  Jerusalem  celestial. 
And  if  ye  vouchesauf,  anoon  I  schal 
BA'gynne  my  tale,  for  which  I  yow  praye 
Telle  your  avis,  I  can  no  better  saye. 
But  natheles  this  meditacioun 
I  put  it  ay  under  eorreccioun 
Of  clerkes,  for  I  am  not  textuel ; 
I  take  but  the  sentens,  trustith  wel. 
Therfor  I  make  protestacioun, 


THE   PERSONES   TALE.  263 

That  I  wol  stonde  to  correccioim.'  tio 

Upon  this  word  we  han  assented  soone. 
For,  as  it  semed,  it  was  for  to  done, 
To  enden  in  som  vertuous  sentence, 
And  for  to  yeve  him  space  and  audience ; 
And  bad  ourc  Host  he  schiUdc  to  him  say^, 
That  alle  we  to  telle  his  tale  him  praye. 
Our  Host  hadde  the  wordes  for  us  alle ; 
'  Sir  prest,'  quod  he,  '  now  faire  yow  bifalle ; 
Say  what  yow  lust,  and  we  wile  gladly  hiere.' 
And  with  that  word  he  said  in  this  manere ;       70 
'  Telleth,'  quod  he,  '  your  meditacioun ; 
But  hasteth  yow,  the  Sonne  wol  adoun. 
Beth  fruetuous,  and  that  in  litel  space, 
And  to  do  wel  Goi  sende  yow  Ms  grace,' 


THE  PERSONES  TALE. 

Jer.  6".  State  siij)er  vias,  et  vklete  et  interrogate  de 
semitis  antiquis  qitce  sit  via  bona,  et  amhuluie  in 
ed,  et  invenietis  refrigeriimi  animabvs  vestius, 
etc. 

^WRE  swcte  Lord  God  of  heven,  that  no 
man  wil  perisehe,  but  avoI  that  we 
^*-  comen  alle  to  the  knowleche  of  him, 
€^  and  to  the  blisful  lif  that  is  perdurable, 
ammonestith  us  by  the  prophet  Jeremye,  that 
saith  in  this  wise :  Stondeth  upon  the  weyes,  and 
seeth  and  axeth  of  olde  pathes,  that  is  to  sayn,  of 


264  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

old  sentence,  which  is  the  goode  way,  and  wallceth 
in  that  loeie,  and  ye  schul  fynde  refresshyng  for 
youre  soules,  etc.  Many  ben  the  wayes  espirituels 
that  leden  folk  to  oure  Lord  Jhesu  Christ,  and  to 
the  regne  of  glorie  ;  of  whiche  weyes,  ther  is  a  ful 
noble  way,  and  ful  covenable,  which  may  not  faile 
to  man  ne  to  womman,  that  thorugh  synne  hath 
mysgon  fro  the  righte  way  of  Jerusalem  celestial ; 
and  this  wey  is  cleped  penitence.  Of  which  men 
schulden  gladly  herken  and  enquere  with  al  here 
herte,  to  wyte  what  is  penitence,  and  whens  it  is 
cleped  penitence,  and  in  what  maner,  and  in  how 
many  maneres  been  the  acciones  or  workynges  of 
penaunce,  and  how  many  spieces  ben  of  penitences, 
and  whiche  thinges  apperteynen  and  byhoven 
to  penitence,  and  whiche  thinges  dcstourben 
penitence. 

Seint  Ambrose  saith,  that  penitence  is  the 
pleynyng  of  man  for  the  gult  that  he  hath  doon, 
and  no  more  to  do  ony  thing  for  which  him 
oughte  to  pleigne.  And  som  doctour  saith, 
penitence  is  the  waymentynge  of  man  that 
sorweth  for  his  synne,  and  peyneth  himself  for  he 
hath  mysdoon.  Penitence,  with  certeyn  circum- 
staunces,  is  verray  repentaunce  of  man,  that  holt 
himself  in  sorwe  and  in  woo  for  his  giltes ;  and  for 
he  schal  be  verray  penitent,  he  schal  first  bywaile 
the  synnes  that  he  hath  do,  and  stedfastly  purposen 
in  his  hert  to  haven  schrifte  of  mouth,  and  to  doon 
satisfaccioun,  and  never  to  do  thing  for  which  him 
oughte  more  to  bywayle  or  to  complayne,  and 
to  continue  in  goode  werkes,  or  elles  his  re- 
pentaunce  may   nought   avayle.      For,   as   saith 


THE   PERSONES   TALE.  265 

scint  Isidre,  ho  is  a  japere  and  a  gabbere,  and  no 
Aorray  repentaunt,  that  eftsoone  doth  thing  for 
which  him  oughte  to  repcnte.  Wepyngo,  and 
nought  for  to  stynte  to  doon  synne,  may  nought 
avayle.  But  natheles,  men  schal  hope  that  at 
every  tyme  that  man  fallith,  be  it  never  so  ofte, 
that  he  may  arise  thorugh  penitence,  if  he  have 
grace ;  but  certeyn  it  is  a  gret  doute.  For  as 
saith  seint  Gregory,  unnethe  arist  he  out  of  liis 
synne  that  is  charged  with  the  charge  of  yvel 
usage.  And  therfore  repentaunt  folk  that  stinte 
for  to  synne,  and  forlete  synne  cr  that  synne  for- 
lete  hem,  holy  ehirche  holt  hem  siker  of  her 
savacioun.  And  ho  that  synneth,  and  verraily  re- 
pentith  him  in  his  last  ende,  holy  ehirche  yit 
hopeth  his  savacioun,  by  the  grete  mercy  of  oure 
Lord  Jhesu  Crist,  for  his  repentaunce  ;  but  take 
ye  the  siker  way. 

And  now  sith  that  I  have  declared  yow,  what 
thing  is  penitence,  now  schul  ye  understonde,  that 
ther  ben  thre  acciouns  of  penitence.  The  first  is, 
that  if  a  man  be  baptized  after  that  he  hath 
synned.  Seint  Augustyn  saith  but-if  he  be 
penitent  for  his  olde  synful  lif,  he  may  not 
bygynne  the  newe  clene  lif.  For  certes,  if  he  be 
baptized  withoute  penitence  of  his  olde  gilt,  he  ro- 
ceyveth  the  mark  of  baptisme,  but  nought  the 
grace,  ne  the  remissioun  of  his  synncs,  til  he  have 
repentaunce  verray.  Another  defaute  is  this, 
that  men  doon  deedly  synne  after  that  thay  have 
receyved  baptisme.  The  thriddc  defaute  is,  that 
men  fallen  into  vcniul  synne  after  here  baptisme 
fro  day  to  day.      Therof  saith  seint  Austyn,  that 


200  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

penitence  of  goode  men,  and  of  humble  folk,  is  the 
penitens  of  every  day. 

The  spices  of  penitence  ben  thre.  That  oon  of 
hem  is  solempne,  another  is  comune,  and  the 
thridde  is  pryve.  Thilke  penaunce  that  is  so- 
lempne, is  in  tuo  maners ;  as  is  to  be  put  out  of 
holy  chirche  in  lente,  for  slaughtre  of  childre,  and 
such  maner  thing.  Another  is,  whan  a  man  hath 
synned  openly,  of  which  synne  the  fame  is  openly 
spoken  in  the  centre  ;  and  thanne  holy  chirche  by 
juggement  streyneth  him  to  doon  open  penaunce. 
Comune  penaunce  is,  that  prestes  enjoynen  men 
comunly  in  certeyn  caas,  as  for  to  goon,  per- 
adventure,  naked  in  pilgrimage,  or  barfot.  Prive 
penaunce  is  thilk  that  men  doon  alday  for  prive 
synnes,  of  whiche  we  sehryve  us  privelj',  and 
receyven  prive  penaunce. 

Now  sehalt  thou  understonde  what  bihoveth  and 
is  necessarie  to  verray  parfyt  penitence ;  and  this 
stondith  in  thre  thinges,  eontricioun  of  hart,  con- 
fessioun  of  mouth,  and  satisfaccioun.  For  whiche 
saith  seint  Johan  Crisostom,  penitence  distreyneth 
a  man  to  accepte  benignely  every  peyne  that  him 
is  enjoyned  with  eontricioun  of  herte,  and  sehrift 
of  mouth,  with  satisfaccioun,  and  in  working  of  alle 
maner  humblete.  And  this  is  fruytful  penitence 
agayn  tho  thre  thinges,  in  which  we  wraththe  euro 
Lord  Jhesu  Crist  ;  this  is  to  sayn,  by  delit  in 
thinking,  by  rechelesncs  in  speking,  and  by 
wicked  synful  werkyng.  Again  these  thre  wickid 
gultes  is  penitence,  that  may  be  likned  unto  a 
tre. 

The  roote  of  this  tre  is  eontricioun,  that  hydith 


THE   PERSONES   TALE.  2G7 

him  in  the  hert  of  him  that  is  verray  repentaunt, 
right  as  the   roote  of  a  tree  hidith  him   in   tho 
eorthe.       Of  the  roote  of  contricioun  springeth  a 
stalk,  that  bereth  braunches  and  leaves  of  con- 
fessioun  and  fruj't  of  satisfaccioun.      For  whiehe 
Crist   saith    in    his   Gospel,  doth  digne   fruyt   of 
penitence,  for  by  this  fruyt  may  men  knowe  this 
tree,  and  nought  by  the  roote  that  is  hyd  in  the 
hert  of  a  man,  ne  by  the  braunches  ne  the  levys 
of  confessioun.      And  therfore  oure  Lord  Jhesu 
Christ  saith  thus,  by  the  fruyt  of  hem  schul  ye 
knowe  hem.     Of  this  roote  eek  springeth  a  seed  of 
grace,  the  which  seed  is  mooder  of  sikurncs,  and 
this  seed  is  egre  and  hoote.     The  grace  of  this 
seed  springeth  of  God,  thorugh  remembraunce  of 
the  day  of  doom,  and  of  the  peynes  of  helle.      Of 
this  matier  saith  Salomon,  that  in  the  drede  of  God 
man  forleteth  his  synne.     The  hete  of  this  seed  is 
the  love  of  God  and  the  desiring  of  the  joye  per- 
durable.     This    hete   draweth   tho   hert  of  man 
to  God,  and  doth  him  hate  his  synne.     For  sothe, 
ther  is  nothing  that  serveth  so  wel  to  a  child,  as 
the  mylk  of  his  norice,  ne  nothing  is  to  him  more 
abhominable  than  the  milk  whan  it  is  melled  ivith 
othere  mete.     Eight  so  the  synful  man  that  loveth 
his  synne,  him  semeth  it  is  to  him  most  sweto  of 
ony  thing ;  but  fro  that  tyme  that  he  loveth  sadly 
oure  Lord  Jhesu  Crist,  and  desireth  the  lif  per- 
durable, ther  nys  to  him  nothing  more  abhomin- 
able.     For  sothly  the  lawe  of  God  is  the  love  of 
God.      For  which  Da-s^d  saith,  I  have  loved  thy 
lawe,  and  hated  wikkednesse  and  hate  ;    he  that 
loveth  God,  keepeth  his  lawe  and  his  word.     This 


268  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

tree  saugh  the  prophete  Daniel  in  spirit,  upon  the 
avysioun  of  Nabugodonosor,  whan  he  counseiled 
him  to  do  penaunce.  Penaunce  is  tre  of  lif  to 
hem  that  it  receyven  ;  and  lie  that  holdeth  hzm  in 
verray  penitence,  is  blessed,  after  the  sentence  of 
Salomon. 

In  this  penitence  or  contricioun  men  schal 
understonde  foure  thinges,  that  is  to  sayn,  what  is 
contricioun,  and  whiche  ben  the  causes  that 
moeven  men  to  contricioun,  and  how  he  schulde 
be  eontrit,  and  what  contricioun  availeth  to  the 
soule.  Thanne  it  is  thus,  that  contricioun  is  the 
verray  sorwe  that  a  man  receyveth  in  his  herte  for 
his  synnes,  with  sad  purpos  to  sehryve  him,  and  to 
doo  penaunce,  and  never  more  to  don  synne.  And 
this  sorwe  schal  be  in  this  manor,  as  saith 
seint  Bernard  ;  it  schal  ben  hevy  and  grcvous,  and 
ful  scharp  and  poynaunt  in  herte ;  first,  for  man 
hath  agilted  his  Lord  and  his  creatour ;  and  more 
scharp  and  poynaunt,  for  he  hath  agiltid  his  fader 
celestial ;  and  yit  more  scharp  and  poynaunt,  for 
he  hath  wratthed  and  agilt  him  that  bought  him 
with  his  precious  blood,  and  hath  delyvered  us  fro 
the  bondes  of  synne,  and  fro  the  cruelte  of  the 
devel,  and  fro  the  peynes  of  hello. 

The  causes  that  oughten  to  mocve  a  man  to 
contricioun  ben  vj.  First  a  man  sehal  remembre 
him  of  his  synnes.  But  loke  that  thilke  remem- 
braunce  be  to  no  delyt  of  him  by  no  way,  but  gret 
schame  and  sorwe  for  his  gilt.  For  Job  saith 
that  synful  men  doon  werkes  worthy  of  con- 
fessioun.  And  therfor  saith  Ezechiel,  I  wol 
remembre  me  alle  the  yeres  of  my  lyf,  in  bitternesse 


THE   PERSONES   TALE,  269 

of  myn  herte.  And  God  saith  in  thapocalips,  Re- 
membre  yow  from  whens  that  ye  ben  falle,  for 
biforn  that  tyme  that  ye  synnede,  ye  were  the 
children  of  God,  and  hjme  of  the  regnc  of  God  ;  but 
for  youre  synne  ye  be  woxe  thral,  and  foul,  and 
membres  of  the  feend,  hate  of  aungels,  selaunder 
of  holy  chirche,  and  foode  of  the  false  serpent, 
perpetual  matier  of  the  fuyr  of  helle,  and  yet 
more  foule  and  abhominable,  for  ye  trespassen  so 
ofte  tyme,  as  doth  the  hound  that  torneth  to  etc 
his  spewyng  ;  and  yet  ye  ben  fouler  for  youre 
longc  continuj'ng  in  synne,  and  youre  synful 
usage,  for  whiche  ye  ben  roten  in  youre  synne,  as  a 
beest  in  his  donge.  Suche  maner  of  thoughtes 
make  a  man  have  schame  of  his  synne,  and  no 
delit ;  and  God  saith,  by  the  prophete  Ezeehiel,  ye 
schul  remembre  yow  of  youre  weyes,  and  thay 
schal  displese  yow.  Sothly,  synnes  ben  the  wayes 
that  leden  folk  to  helle. 

The  seeounde  cause  that  oughte  make  a  man  to 
have  disdeyn  of  his  synne  is  this,  that,  as  seith 
seint  Petre,  who  so  doth  synne,  is  thral  of  synne, 
and  synne  put  a  man  in  gret  thraldom.  And  ther- 
fore  saith  the  prophete  Ezeehiel,  I  wente  sorwful, 
in  disdeyn  of  myself.  Certes,  wel  oughte  a  man 
have  disdeyn  of  synne,  and  withdrawe  him  Iro 
that  thraldom  and  vilonye.  And  lo  what  saith 
Seneca  in  this  matier e.  He  saith  thus,  though  I 
wiste,  that  noijthcvG  God  no  man  schulde  never 
knowe  it,  yit  wold  I  have  disdeyn  for  to  do  synne. 
And  the  same  Seneca  also  saith,  I  am  born  to  gretter 
thinges  than  to  be  thral  to  my  body,  or  than  for  to 
make  of  my  body  a  thral.     Ne  a  fouler  thral  may 


270  THE    CA>TERBURY    TALES. 

no  man,  nc  womman,  make  of  his  body,  than  yive 
his  body  to  synne.    And  were  it  the  foulest  cherl, 
or  the  foulest  womman,  that  lyveth,  and  lest  of  value, 
yet  is  he  chaiuirjed  thanne  hj  synne  and  more  foul, 
and  more  in  servitude.    Ever  fro  the  heigher  degre 
that  man  fallith,  the  more  he  is  thral,  and  more  unio 
God  and  to  the  werlde,  vile  and  abhominable.  0  goode 
God  !  wel  oughte  a  man  have  gret  disdayn  of  such 
a   thing  that  thorugh    synne,  thcr  he  was  free, 
now  is  he    maked    bonde.       And  therfore  saith 
seint  Austyn,  if  thou  hast  disdayn  of  thy  servaunt, 
if  he  ag'ilte  or  synne,  have  thou  than  disdeine  that 
thou  thisclf  schuldist  doon  synne.     Tak  reward  of 
thy  value,  that  thou  be  nought  to  foul  in  thiself. 
Alias  !    wel  oughte  men  have  disdeyn  to  be  ser- 
vauntes  andthralles  to  synne,  and  sore  ben  aschamed 
of  hemself,  that  God  of  his  endeles  goodnes  hath 
set  hem   in   heigh  estate,  or  yeven  hem  witte, 
strength  of  body,  hele,  beaute,  or  prosperity,  and 
bought  hem  fro  the  deth  with  his  herte  blood,  that 
thay  so  unkindely  ayeinst  his  gentilesce  quyten 
him  so  vileynsly,  to  slaughter  of  her  oughne  soules. 
0  goode  God !   ye  wommen  that  ben  of  so  gret 
beaute,remembrethyow  of  theproverbe  of  Salamon, 
that  saith  ho  likeneth  a  fair  womman,  that  is  a  fool 
of  hir  body,  to  a  ryng  of  gold  that  were  in  the 
groyn  of  a  sowe  ;  for  right  as  a  sowe  wroteth  in 
cverich  ordure,   so  wrootith  sche  hir  beaute  in 
stynkyng  ordure  of  synne. 

The  thridde  cause,  that  oughte  moeve  a  man 
to  contricioun,  is  drede  of  the  day  of  doome,  and 
of  the  orrible  peynes  of  helle.  For  as  seint  Jeroni 
saith,  at  every  tyme  that  I  remembre  me  of  the  day 


THE   PERSONES   TALE.  271 

of  doom,  I  quake ;  for  whan  I  ete  or  drinke,  or  what 
so  that  I  doo,  ever  seraeth  me  that  the  trompe 
sowneth  in  myn  eere,  Riseth  ye  up  that  ben  deede, 
and  Cometh  to  the  juggement.  0  goode  God ! 
mochil  ought  a  man  to  drede  such  a  juggement, 
ther  as  we  schul  be  alle,  as  saith  seint  Poul,  biforn 
the  sote  of  our  Lord  Jhesu  Crist ;  wher  as  he  schal 
make  a  general  congregacioun,  wher  as  no  man 
may  ben  absent ;  for  certes  ther  avayleth  non 
essoyne  ne  excusacioun ;  and  nought  oonly,  that 
oure  defaute  schal  be  juged,  but  eeh  that  alle  owe 
iverkes  schul  be  openly  knowen.  And,  as  seint 
Bernard  saith,  ther  schal  no  pleynyng  avayle,  ne 
no  sleight ;  we  schuln  yive  rekenyng  of  every  ydel 
word.  Ther  schuUe  we  have  a  juge  that  may 
nought  be  disceyved  ne  corrupt ;  and  why  ?  for 
certes,  alle  oure  thoughtes  ben  descovered  as  to 
him,  ne  for  prayer  ne  for  meede  he  nyl  not  be 
corupt.  And  therfore  saith  Salamon,  the  wrath 
of  Godnewolnoughtspareno wight,for  praier  ne  for 
yifte.  And  therfore  at  the  day  of  doom  ther  is 
noon  hope  to  eschape.  Wherfore,  as  seint  Anselm 
seith,  ful  greet  anguisch  schuln  the  synful  folk 
have  at  that  tynie ;  there  schal  be  the  sterne  and 
the  wroth  juge  sitte  above,  and  under  him  the 
horrible  put  of  helle  open,  to  destroye  him  that 
wolde  not  byknowe  his  synnes,  which  synnes 
openly  ben  schewed  biforn  God  and  biforn  every 
creature  ;  and  on  the  lift  syde,  mo  divelis  than 
herte  may  thynke,  for  to  hary  and  to  drawe  the 
synful  soules  to  tlie  pyne  of  helle  ;  and  withinne 
the  hertes  of  folk  schal  be  the  bytyng  conscience, 
and  withoutc  forth  schal  be  the  world  al  brennyng. 


272  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

Whider  schal  thanne  the  -wrecche  synful  man  flee 
to  hyden  him  ?  Certes  he  may  not  hyde  him,  he 
moot  come  forth  and  sehewe  him.  For  certes,  as 
scith  seynt  Jerom,  the  erthe  schal  caste  him  out 
of  him,  and  the  sec  also,  and  the  aer  also,  that 
schal  be  fill  of  thunder-clappes  and  lightnynges. 
Now  sothly,  who-so  wel  remcmbrith  him  of  these 
tydyngcs,  I  gesse  his  synne  schal  not  torne  him  to 
delit,  but  to  grot  sorw,  for  drcde  of  the  peyne  of 
helle.  And  therforc  saith  Job  to  God,  suflre,  Lord, 
that  I  may  a  while  biwayle  and  wepe,  or  I  go 
withoute  retournynge  to  the  derke  lond,  covered 
with  derknes  of  deth,  to  the  lond  of  myscse  and  of 
derknessc,  wher  as  is  the  schadow  of  deth,  wher 
as  is  noon  order  ne  ordinaunce,  but  grislich  drede 
that  ever  schal  laste.  Loo,  her  may  ye  see,  that 
Job  prayde  respit  a  while,  to  wepe  and  biwayle 
his  trespas ;  for  forsothe  oon  day  of  respit  is 
bettre  than  al  the  tresor  in  this  world.  And  for 
as  moche  as  a  man  may  aquyte  himself  byforn 
God  by  penaunee  in  this  world,  and  not  by  tresor, 
therfore  schuld  he  praye  to  God  yive  him  respit 
a  v/hile,  to  wepe  and  to  waile  his  trespas.  For 
certes,  al  the  sorwe  that  a  man  myht  make  fro  the 
hegynnynge  of  the  iveiid,  nys  but  a  litel  thing,  at  re- 
gard of  the  sorwe  of  helle.  The  cause  wh}^  that 
Job  calleth  helle  the  lond  of  derknes,  understondith, 
that  he  clepith  it  lond  or  eorthe,  for  it  is  stable  and 
never  schal  faylc  ;  and  derk.  for  he  that  is  in  helle 
hath  defaut  of  light  material ;  for  certes  the  derke 
light  that  schal  come  out  of  the  fiiyr  that  ever 
schal  brenne,  schal  torne  him  to  peyne  that  is  in 
helle,  for  it  schewith  him  to  thorrible  develes  that 


THE   PERSONES   TALE.  273 

him  tormenten.  Covered  with  the  derknes  of  deth ; 
that  is  to  sayn,  that  he  that  is  in  helle,  schal  have 
defaute  of  the  sight  of  God ;  for  certcs  the  sight 
of  God  is  the  lif  perdurable.  The  derknes  of  deth, 
ben  the  synnes  that  the  wrecehid  man  hath  doon, 
whiche  that  stourben  him  to  see  the  face  of  God, 
right  as  a  derk  cloude  doth  bitwixe  us  and  the 
Sonne.  Lond  of  myseyse  ;  bycause  that  there  ben 
thre  maner  of  defautcs  agains  thre  thinges  that 
folk  of  this  world  han  in  this  present  lif,  that  is  to 
sayn,  honures,  delices,  and  richesses.  Agayns 
honours  han  they  in  helle  sehame  and  confusioun  ; 
for  wel  ye  witen,  that  men  clepyn  honure  the  re- 
verence that  men  doon  to  the  man  ;  but  in  helle  is 
noon  honour  ne  reverence  ;  for  certes  no  more  re- 
verence schal  ben  doon  ther  to  a  kyng,  than  to  a 
knave.  For  which  God  saith  by  the  propheto 
Jeremie,  thilke  folk  that  me  displesen,  schul  be  in 
despit.  Honour  is  eke  cleped  gret  lordschipe. 
There  schal  no  wight  serven  othir,  but  of  harm  and 
of  torment.  Honour  eek  is  cleped  gret  dignite  and 
heighnes  ;  but  in  helle  sehulle  thay  be  al  for-  trode 
of  develes.  And  God  saith,  thorrible  develes 
schuln  goon  and  comen  upon  the  heedes  of  dampned 
folk ;  and  this  is,  for  als  moche  as  the  heyher  that 
thay  were  in  this  present  lif,  the  more  schuln  thay 
ben  abatid  and  defouled  in  helle.  Agayns  riches 
of  this  world  schuln  thay  han  mysese  of  povert, 
and  this  povert  shal  be  in  iiij.  thinges :  in  defaut 
of  tresor ;  of  which,  as  David  saith,  the  riche  folk  that 
embraseden  and  onedin  in  al  here  hcrte  the  tresor 
of  this  world,  schuln  slepen  in  the  slepyng  of  deth, 
and  nothing  schuln  thayfynde  in  lier  hondes  of  ul 

VOL.   ITI.  T 


274  THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 

her  trcsor.  And  moreover,  the  niysease  of  helle 
schal  bo  in  the  defaut  of  mete  and  drink.  For 
God  saith  thus  by  Moyses,  thay  sehid  be  wasted 
by  hunger,  and  the  briddes  of  helle  schuln  devoure 
hem  with  bittir  teeth,  and  the  galle  of  the  dragoun 
schal  be  her  drink,  and  the  venym  of  the  dragoun 
here  morsels.  And  forthcr-morcover  her  misease 
sehal  be  in  defaut  of  clothing,  for  thay  sehul  be 
naked  in  body,  as  of  clothing,  save  of  fuyr  in  which 
thay  brenne,  and  other  filthis ;  and  naked  schuln 
thay  be  of  soule,  of  alle  maner  vertues,  which  that 
is  the  clothing  of  the  soule.  Wher  ben  thanne  the 
gaye  robes,  and  the  softe  seheetis,  and  the  sm ale 
schirtes?  Lo,  what  saith  of  hem  the  prophcte 
Isaye,  under  hem  schuln  be  strawed  motthis,  and 
here  covcrtours  schuln  ben  of  Avorms  of  helle. 
And  forther-morover  here  disease  schal  be  in  de- 
faute  of  frendes,  for  he  is  not  povere  that  hath 
goode  frendes ;  but  here  is  no  frend,  for  neyther 
God  no  no  creature  schal  be  frend  unto  hem,  and 
everieh  of  hem  sehal  hate  other  with  dedly  hate. 
The  sones  and  the  doughtres  schuln  rebellen  agayns 
the  fader  and  the  mooder,  and  kynrede  agayns 
kynrede,  and  chiden  and  despisen  everieh  of  hem 
other,  botho  day  and  night,  as  God  saith  by  the 
prophetc  Miehias,  and  the  lovyng  children  that 
whilom  loveden  so  fleisschlich  evcrych  other 
wolden  everyeh  of  hem  eten  other  if  thay  mightcn. 
For  howschulden  thay  loven  hem  togider  in  the  peyne 
of  helle,  whan  thay  hated  everieh  of  hem  other  in 
the  prosperite  of  this  lif?  For  trustith  wel,  her 
fleisshly  love  was  dedly  hate ;  as  saith  the  prophetc 
David,  who-so  that  loveth  wickidnes,  he  hateth  his 


THE  PERSONES   TALE.  275 

soulo,  and  who-so  hatith  his  oughne  soule,  certis 
he  may  love  noon  other  wight  in  no  manere.  And 
therfore  in  helle  is  no  solace  ne  frendschipe,  but 
ever  the  more  flesshly  kynredes  that  ben  in  helle, 
the  more  cursynge,  the  more  chydynges,  and 
the  more  deedly  hate  ther  is  among  hem.  And 
fortherover  thay  sehul  have  defaute  of  alle  manere 
delices ;  for  certis  delices  ben  the  appetites  of  thy 
fyve  wittes;  as  sight,  hieryng,  smellyng,  savoring, 
and  touching.  But  in  helle  here  sight  schal  be  ful 
of  derknes  and  of  smoke,  and  her  eyen  therfore  ful 
of  teeris ;  and  her  hieryng  ful  of  waymentyngc, 
and  of  gruntynge  of  teeth,  as  saith  Jhesu  Crist,  her 
nosethurles  schuln  ben  ful  of  stynkyng  stynk ;  and, 
as  saith  Ysaye  the  prophete,  here  savoringe  schal 
be  ful  of  bitter  galle ;  and  touehyng  of  al  here  body 
sdial  he  y-covered  with  fuyr  that  never  schal 
quenche,  and  with  wormes  that  never  schuln 
deyen,  as  God  saith  by  the  mouth  of  Ysaie.  And 
for  al  so  moehe  as  thay  schuln  nought  wcne  that 
thay  may  deyen  for  peyne,  and  by  here  deth  fle 
fro  peyne,  that  may  thay  understondo  in  the  word 
of  Job,  that  saith,  ther  as  is  the  schadow  of  deth. 
Certes  a  schadow  hath  the  liknesse  of  the  thing  of 
which  it  is  a  schadow,  hot  the  schadowe  is  noiiht 
the  same  thinrje  of  lohiche  it  is  schadoive ;  right  so 
fareth  the  peyne  of  helle ;  it  is  lik  deth,  for  the 
horrible  anguisshe ;  and  why  ?  for  it  peyneth  hem 
ever  as  though  men  scholden  deyc  anon;  but 
certes  thay  sehul  not  deye.  For  as  saith  seint 
Gregory,  to  wrccchid  eaytifs  schal  be  yive  detli 
withoute  deth,  and  endo  withouten  endc,  and  de- 
faute  withoutcn   faylinge;    for  here  deth  schal 


27n  THE   CANTERBURY    TALES. 

ahvay  lyven,  and  here  ende  sehal  evermore  by- 
gj-nne,  and  here  defaute  schal  not  fayle.  And 
therfor  saith  seint  Johan  the  Evaungelist,  thay 
schul  folwe  deth,  and  thay  sehuln  nought  fynde 
him,  and  thay  schul  desire  to  deyen,  and  deth 
schal  flee  fro  hem.  And  eek  Job  saith,  that  in 
belle  is  noon  ordre  of  rule.  And  al  be  it  that 
God  hath  creat  al  thing  in  right  ordre,  and  no 
thing  withoute  ordre,  but  alle  thinges  benordeyned 
and  noumbred,  yit  natheles  thay  that  ben  dampned 
been  nought  in  ordre,  ne  holden  non  ordre.  For 
the  eorthe  sehal  here  hem  no  fruyt ;  (for,  as  the 
prophete  David  saith,  God  sehal  destroye  the  fruyt 
of  the  eorthe,  as  for  hem)  ne  watir  schal  yive  hem 
no  moysture,  ne  the  aier  non  rcfreisching,  ne  fuyr 
no  light.  For  as  seith  seint  Basile,  the  brennyng 
of  the  fuyr  of  this  Avorld  sehal  God  yive  in  hclle  to 
hem  that  ben  dampnyd,  but  the  light  and  the 
clernesse  sehal  be  yeve  in  hevene  to  his  children ; 
right  as  the  goode  man  yeve  fleisch  to  his  children, 
and  bones  to  his  houndes.  And  for  thay  schul  liave 
noon  hope  to  eschape.  saith  seint  Job,  atte  laste, 
that  ther  schal  horrour  and  grisly  drede  duelle  Avith- 
outen  ende.  Horrour  is  ahvay  drede  of  harm  that 
is  to  come,  and  this  drede  sehal  ever  duelle  in  the 
hertes  of  hem  that  ben  dampnyd.  And  therfore 
han  thay  lorn  al  here  hope  for  vij.  causes.  First, 
for  God  that  is  here  jugge  schal  be  withoute  mercy 
to  hem,  ne  thay  may  not  please  him,  ne  noon  of  his 
halwes  ;  ne  they  may  yive  no  thing  for  here  raun- 
soun  ;  ne  thay  have  no  voice  to  speke  to  him ;  ne 
thay  may  not  fle  fro  peyne ;  ne  thay  have  no  good- 
nes  in  hem  that  thay  may  sehewe  to  delivere  hem 


THE   PERSOKES   TALE.  1^77 

fro  peyne.  Andtherfore  saith  Salomon,  the  wikked 
man  deyeth,  and  whan  he  is  deed,  he  schal  have  noon 
hope  to  eschape  fro  peyne.  Who-so  wolde  thanne 
wel  understonde  these  peyncs  andbythynke  himwel 
that  he  hath  deserved  thilke  peynes  for  hissynnes, 
certes  he  schulde  have  more  talent  to  sikyn  and  to 
wepe,  than  for  to  synge  or  pleye.  For  as  that 
Salamon  saith,  Who-so  that  hadde  the  science  to 
knowe  the  peynes  that  ben  establid  and  ordeynt 
for  synne  he  wolde  make  sorvv^e.  Thilke  science, 
as  saith  seint  Austyn,  maketh  a  man  to  wayment 
in  his  herte. 

The  fourthe  poynt,  that  oughte  make  a  man 
have  contricioun,  is  the  sorwful  remembraunee  of 
the  good  that  he  hath  left  to  doon  heer  in  eorthe, 
and  eek  the  good  that  he  hath  lorn.  Sothly  the 
goodc  werkes  that  he  hath  lest,  eyther  thay  been 
the  goode  werkes  that  he  wrought  er  he  fel  into 
deedly  synne,  or  elles  thai  ben  the  goode  werkes 
that  he  hath  ivroughte  ivhil  he  laie  in  synne.  Sothely 
the  gode  werkes  that  he  dede  er  he  fel  into  synne 
ben  amortised,  and  astoneyed,  and  dullid  by  ofte 
synnynge ;  that  othere  goode  werkes  that  he 
wroughte  whil  he  lay  in  dedly  synne,  been  outrely 
deede,  as  to  the  lif  perdurable  in  heven. 

Thanne  thilke  goode  werkes  that  ben  mortified 
by  ofte  synnyng,  whiche  goode  werkes  he  dede 
whiles  he  was  in  charite,  ne  mowe  never  quyken 
agayn  without  en  verray  penitence.  And  thereof 
saith  God  by  the  mouth  of  Ezechiel  that  if  the 
rightful  man  retourne  agayn  fro  his  rightwisnesse 
and  werke  wikkednesse,  schal  he  live  ?  nay ;  for 
alle    the   goode    werkes    that   he    hath  wrought. 


278  THE   CANTERBUilY   TALES. 

ne  schuln  never  be  in  remembraunce,  for  he  schal 
dye  in  his  synne.  And  upon  thilke  chapitre  saith 
seint  Gregory  thus,  that  we  schuln  understonde 
this  principally,  that  whan  we  doon  dedly  synne, 
it  is  for  nought  thanne  to  reherse  or  to  drawe  into 
mcmorie  the  goode  werkes  that  we  han  wrought 
biforn ;  for  ccrtis  in  the  werkyng  of  the  dedly 
synne,  ther  is  no  trust  to  no  good  werkes  that  we 
han  don  biforne  this  tyme ;  that  is  to  say,  as  for 
to  have  therby  the  lif  perdurable  in  heven.  But 
natheles,  the  goode  werkes  quiken  agayn  and 
comen  again,  and  helpen  and  availen  to  have  the 
lif  perdurable  in  heven  whan  we  han  contricioun ; 
but  sothly  the  goode  werkes  that  men  doon  whil 
that  thai  ben  in  deedly  synne,  for  as  moche  as 
thay  Avere  doon  in  dedly  synne,  thay  may  never 
quyken  ayeine.  For  certes,  timige  that  never  haclde 
lif,  maij  never  quyhjne ;  and  al  be  it  so  that  thay 
availen  not  to  have  the  lif  perdurable,  yit  avaylen 
thay  to  abrigging  of  the  peyne  of  belle,  or  dies  to 
gete  temporal  riches,  or  elles  that  God  wol  the  rather 
cnlumyne  and  lightene  the  hert  of  the  synful  man 
to  have  rcpentaunco  ;  and  eek  thay  availen  for  to 
usen  a  man  to  do  goode  werkes,  that  the  feend 
have  the  lasse  power  of  his  soule.  And  thus  the 
curtej's  Lord  Jhesu  Crist  ne  wolde  nought  no 
good  werk  be  lost,  for  in  somwhat  it  schal 
availe.  But  for  als  moche  as  the  goode  werkes 
that  men  don  whil  thay  ben  in  good  lif  ben 
amortised  by  synne  folwyng,  and  eek  sith  that 
alle  the  goode  werkes  that  men  doon  whil  thay  ben 
in  dedly  synne,  been  outrely  decde  as  for  to  have 
the  lif  perdurable,  wel  may  that  man,  that  no 


THE   PERSONES   TALE.  279 

goode  werkes  werkith  synge  thilke  newe  Fre?ishe 
song,  Jay  tout  j^erdu  moiui  temps  et  moun  labour. 
For  certis  synne  byrevcth  a  man  bothe  goodnes  of 
nature,  and  eek  the  goodnes  of  grace.  For  sothly 
the  grace  of  the  holy  gost  fareth  lik  fyre  that  may 
not  ben  ydel ;  for  fuyr  as  it  forletith  his  werkyng,  it 
faileth  anoon,  and  right  so  when  the  grace  faileth 
than  lesith  the  synful  man  the  goodnes  of  glorie, 
that  oonly  is  byhight  to  goode  men  that  labouren  and 
werken.  Wei  may  he  be  sory  thanne,  that  oweth 
al  his  lif  to  God,  as  longe  as  he  hath  hjvccl,  and 
eek  as  longe  as  he  schal  lyve,  that  no  goodnes  ne 
hath  to  paye  with  his  dette  to  God,  to  whom 
he  oweth  al  his  lyf ;  for  trusteth  wel  he  schal  yive 
accompt,  as  saith  scint  Bernard,  of  alle  the  goodes 
that  han  be  yevcn  him  in  his  present  lif,  and  how 
he  hath  hem  dispendid,  nat  so  moche  that  ther  ne 
schal  not  perische  an  hcer  of  his  heed,  ne  a 
moment  of  an  hour  ne  schal  not  perische  of  his 
tymc,  that  he  ne  schal  yive  of  it  a  rekenyng. 

The  fifte  manor  of  contricioun,  that  moeveth  a 
man  therto,  is  the  remembraunce  of  the  passioun 
that  oure  Lord  Jhesu  Crist  sufTred  for  us  and 
for  oure  synnes.  For  as  seith  seint  Bernard,  whil 
that  I  lyve,  I  schal  have  remembraunce  of  the 
passioun  that  oure  Lord  Jhesu  Crist  sufFred  for  us 
in  preching,  his  Averynesse  in  travayling,  his 
temptacioun  whan  he  fastid,  his  longe  wakinges 
whan  he  prayde,  his  teeres  whan  he  wepte  for 
pite  of  good  peple ;  the  wo  and  the  schame  and 
the  filthc  that  men  saide  to  him ;  of  the  foule 
spittyng  that  men  spitten  on  his  face ;  of  the 
buffettis  that  men  yaf  him ;  of  the  foule  mowes 


280  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

and  of  the  reproves  that  men  to  him  saiden  ;  of 
the  nayles  with  whiche  he  was  nayled  to  the  cros , 
and  of  al  the  remenaunt  of  his  passioun,  that  he 
suffrede  for  my  synnes  and  no  thing  for  his  oicne  gilt. 
And  ye  schal  understonde  that  in  manncs  synne  is 
every  maner  ordre  of  ordinaunce  turned  up-so- 
doun.  For  it  is  soth,  that  God,  and  resoun,  and 
sensLialite,  and  the  body  of  man,  be  so  ordeyned, 
that  everich  of  thise  foure  thinges  schulde  have 
lordschipe  over  that  other,  as  thus :  God  scholde  have 
lordschip  over  resoun,  and  resoun  over  sensualite, 
and  sensualite  over  the  body  of  man.  But  sothly 
whan  man  sj^nneth,  al  this  ordre,  or  ordinaunce,  is 
torned  up-so-doun ;  and  thanne,  for  as  moche  as 
the  resoun  of  a  man  ne  wol  not  be  subject 
ne  obeissant  to  God,  that  is  his  lord  by  right, 
therfore  lesith  it  the  lordschipe  that  it  schulde 
have  over  sensualite,  and  eek  over  the  body  of 
man  ;  and  why  ?  for  sensualite  rebcUith  thanne 
agayns  resoun  ;  and  by  that  way  lesith  resoun  the 
lordschipe  over  sensualite,  and  over  the  body. 
For  right  as  resoun  is  rebel  to  God,  right  so 
is  bothe  sensualite  rebel  to  resoun  and  the  bod)- 
also.  And  certis  this  disordynaunce,  and  this  re- 
bellioun,  oure  Lord  Jhesu  Crist  bought  upon  his 
precious  body  ful  deere ;  and  herkeneth  in  which 
wise.  For  as  moche  as  resoun  is  rebel  to  God, 
therfore  is  man  worthy  to  have  sorwe,  and  to  be 
deed.  This  suffred  oure  Lord  Jhesu  Crist  for 
man,  after  that  he  was  bytrayscd  of  his  disciple, 
and  distreyned  and  bounde,  so  that  the  blood  brast 
out  at  every  nayl  of  his  hondes,  as  saith  seint 
Austyn.     And  fortherover,  for  as  mochil  as  resoun 


THE    PERSONES   TALE.  281 

of  man  wol  nought  daunte  sensualite  whan  it  may, 
therfore  is  man  worthy  to  have  schame ;  and  this 
suffered  oure  Lord  Jhesu  Crist  for  man,  whan  thay 
spitten  in  his  face.  And  forthcrover  thanne,  for 
as  moche  as  the  caytif  body  of  man  is  rebelle 
bothe  to  resoun  and  to  sensualite,  therfore  it  is 
worthy  the  deth  ;  and  this  suffred  oure  Lord 
Jhesu  Crist  for  us  upon  the  croys,  wher  as  ther 
was  no  part  of  his  body  fre,  withoute  grct  peyne 
and  bitter  passioun.  And  al  tiiis  suffred  oure 
Lord  Jhesu  Crist  that  never  forfeted ;  cmd  thus 
sai/d  he,  to  mochil  am  I  streyncd,  for  the  thinges 
that  I  never  deservyd ;  and  to  moche  defouled  for 
schendschip  that  man  is  worthy  to  have.  And 
therfore  may  the  synful  man  wel  seye,  as  saith 
seint  Bernard,  acursed  be  the  bitternesse  of  my 
sinne,  for  tvhich  ther  muste  he  suffered  so  nmcJie 
hitternes.  For  certis,  after  the  dyvers  discord- 
aunces  of  oure  wickednes  was  the  passioun  of 
oure  Lord  Jhesu  Crist  ordeyned  in  divers  thinges ; 
as  thus.  Certis  sinful  manncs  soule  is  bytraysid 
of  the  devcl,  by  covcitise  of  temporal  prospcrite ; 
and  scorned  by  disceyt,  whan  he  cheseth  fleischly 
delytes ;  and  yit  is  it  tormentid  by  impacience  of 
adversite,  and  byspit  by  servage  and  subjeccioun 
of  synne,  and  atte  last  it  is  slayn  finally.  For  this 
discordaunce  of  synful  man,  was  Jhesu  Crist  first 
bytraised ;  and  after  was  he  boundc,  that  com  for 
to  unbynden  us  fro  synne  and  of  peyne.  Than 
was  he  scorned,  that  oonly  schulde  be  honoured  in 
alle  thing  of  alle  thinges.  Than  was  his  visage, 
that  oughte  be  desired  to  be  &eyn  of  al  mankynde 
(in  which  visage  aungels  desiren  to  loke)  viley- 


282  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

noiisly  bj'spit.  Thanne  was  he  scourged  that 
nothing  had  agilt  ;  and  fynally,  thanne  was  he 
crucified  and  slayn,  Thanne  was  accomplised  the 
word  of  Ysaye,  he  was  woundid  for  oure  mysdede, 
and  defoulcd  by  oure  felonycs.  Now,  sith  Jhesu 
Crist  tok  upon  him  thilke  peyne  of  alio  oure 
wikkednes,  mochil  oughtc  synful  men  wepe  and 
bywayle,  that  for  his  synnes  schulde  Goddes  sone 
of  hevene  al  this  endure. 

The  sixte  thing  that  oughte  to  moeve  a  man  to 
contricioun,  is  the  hope  of  thre  thinges,  that  is  to 
sayn,  foryevenes  of  synne,  and  the  yifte  of  grace 
wel  for  to  do,  and  the  glorle  of  heven,  with  which 
God  schal  guerdoune  man  for  his  goode  deedis. 
And  for  als  mochc  as  Jhesu  Crist  yeveth  us  these 
yiftes  of  his  largesse  and  of  his  soverayn  bounte, 
therfore  is  he  cleped,  Jhesus  Nazarenus  rex 
Judceorian.  Jhcsus  is  for  to  saye,  savcour  or  sava- 
cioun,  of  whom  me  schal  hope  to  have  foryevenes 
of  synnes,  Avhich  that  is  propi'ely  savacioun  of 
synnes.  And  therfore  seyde  the  aungel  to  Joseph, 
thow  sclmlt  elepe  his  name  Jhesus,  that  schal  save 
his  poeplc  of  here  synnes.  And  herof  saith  scint 
Petir,  ther  is  noon  other  name  under  heven,  that 
is  yeve  to  any  man,  by  which  a  man  may  be  savyd, 
but  oonly  Jhesus.  Nazarenus  is  as  moche  to  saye 
as  florisching,  in  which  a  man  schal  hope,  that  he 
that  yeveth  him  rcmissioun  of  synnes,  schal  yive 
him  grace  wel  to  doo.  For  in  the  flour  is  hope  of 
fruyt  in  tymo  comynge,  and  in  foryivenes  hope  of 
grace  wel  to  do.  I  was  at  the  dore  of  thin  herte, 
saith  Jhesus,  and  cleped  for  to  entre  ;  he  that 
openith  to  me,  schal  have  foryevenes  of  synne ;    1 


THE    PERSONES   TALE.  2813 

wol  entre  into  him  by  my  grace,  and  soupe  with 
him  by  the  goode  workes  that  he  sehal  doon,  whiche 
Averkes  ben  the  foode  of  God,  and  he  schal  soupe 
with  mc  by  the  grete  joye  that  I  schal  yive  him. 
Thus  schal  man  hope,  that  for  his  werkis  of  pen- 
aunce  God  schal  yive  him  liis  rcgne,  as  he  bihetith 
him  in  the  Gospel. 

Now  schal  man  undcrstondc,  in  what  manor 
schal  be  his  contricioun.  I  say,  it  schal  be  uni- 
versal and  total,  this  is  to  say,  a  man  schal  be 
verray  repentaunt  for  alle  his  synnes,  that  he  hath 
doon  in  delyt  of  his  thought,  for  delit  is  ful  perilous. 
For  ther  ben  tuo  maners  of  consentyng,  that  one 
of  hem  is  cleped  consentynge  of  affcccioun,  whan  a 
man  is  moeved  to  synne,  and  delitith  him  longc 
for  to  thinkc  on  that  synne,  and  his  rcsoun  apar- 
ceyveth  wel  that  it  is  synne  agayns  the  lawc  of 
God,  and  yit  his  resoun  refreyncth  not  his  foulc 
delit  or  talent,  though  he  scth  wel  apertly,  that  it 
is  ayenst  the  reverence  of  God;  although  his 
resoun  consente  not  to  do  the  synne  in  dede,  yit 
sayn  some  doctours,  delyt  that  duellith  longe  it  is 
ful  perilous,  al  be  it  never  so  lite.  And  also  a 
man  schulde  sorwe,  namely  for  al  that  he  hath 
desired  agayn  the  lawe  of  God,  with  parfyt  con- 
sentynge of  his  hert  and  of  his  resoun,  for  therof 
is  no  doute,  that  it  is  dedly  synne  in  the  consent- 
ynge, for  certis  ther  is  no  dedly  synne,  but  that  it  nas 
first  in  mannes  thought,  and  after  that  in  his  delit, 
and  so  forth  into  consentyng,  and  into  dede.  Wher- 
fore  say  I,  that  many  men  repente  hem  never  of 
suche  thoughtes  and  delites,  ne  never  schrive  hem 
of  it,  but  oonly  of  the  dede  of  grete  synnes  out- 


2S4  THE    CANTERBURY    TALES. 

Avurd.  Wherfore  I  say,  that  suche  wickid  delitis 
and  ■\vickid  thoughtes  ben  subtile  bigilours  of  hem 
that  schuln  be  dampned.  Moreover  man  oughte 
to  sorwe  for  his  wicked  wordes,  as  wel  as  his 
Avikked  dedes  ;  for  certis  the  repentaunce  of  a  sin- 
gular synne,  and  nought  repente  of  alio  his  other 
synnes,  or  elles  repente  him  of  cdle  his  othere  simies, 
and  not  of  a  singulere  sinne,  may  nought  availe. 
For  certis  God  Almighty  is  al  good,  and  therforc 
he  foryevcth  al,  or  elles  right  nought.  And  here- 
of saith  seint  Augustin,  I  wot  certeynly,  that  God 
is  enemy  to  every  synnere ;  and  how  thanne  he 
that  observith  oon  synne,  schal  he  have  remissioun 
of  the  remenant  of  his  other  synnes  ?  Nay.  And 
fortherover,  contricioun  schulde  be  wounder  sorw- 
ful  and  anguisschous,  and  therfore  yivith  him  God 
pleinly  his  mercy.  And  therfore  whan  my  soule 
was  anguissheous  withinne  me,  I  hadde  remem- 
braunce  of  God,  that  my  prayer  mighte  come  to 
him.  And  fortherover,  contricioun  moste  be  con- 
tinuelly,  and  that  a  man  have  stedefast  purpos  to 
schryve  him,  and  for  to  amende  him  of  his  lyf. 
For  sothly,  whil  contricioun  lastith,  man  may  ever 
hope  of  foryevenes.  And  of  this  cometh  hate  of 
synne,  that  destroyeth  synne  bothe  in  himself,  and 
eek  in  other  folk  at  his  power.  And  therfore  saith 
David,  ye  that  loven  God,  hatith  wikkidnesse ;  for 
trustith  wel  for  to  love  God,  is  for  to  love  that  he 
loveth,  and  hate  that  he  hateth. 

The  laste  thing  that  a  man  schuld  understonde  in 
contricioun  is  this,  Avherof  availith  contricioun  ?  1 
saj',  that  som  tyme  contricioun  delivereth  man  fro 
synne ;  of  which  that  David  saith,  I  say,  quod  David, 


THE    PERSONES   TALE.  285 

that  is  to  saye  I  purposid  fermely  to  schryve  me,  and 
thou,  Lord,  relesedist  my  synne.  And  right  so  as 
contricioun  availith  nat  withoute  sad  purposof  schrift 
if  man  have  oportunite,  right  so  litil  worth  is  shrifte 
or  satisfaccioun  withoute  contricioun.  And,  more- 
over, contricioun  destruyeth  the  prisoun  of  helle, 
and  makith  wayk  and  feble  the  strengthes  of  the 
develes,  and  restorith  the  yift  of  the  holy  gost,  and 
of  alle  vertues,  and  it  clensith  the  soule  of  synnes, 
and  delivereth  the  soule  fro  the  peynes  of  helle, 
and  fro  the  companye  of  the  devel,  and  fro  the  serv- 
age  of  synne,  and  restorith  it  to  alle  goodes  espi- 
ritueles,  into  the  companye  and  communioun  of 
holy  chirche.  And  fortherover,  it  makith  him  that 
somtyme  was  sone  of  ire,  to  be  the  sone  of  grace  ; 
and  alle  these  thinges  he  provith  by  holy  writte. 
And  therfore  he  that  wil  sette  his  herte  to  these 
thinges,  he  were  ful  wys.  For  sothe  he  scholde 
not  thanne  in  al  his  lyf  have  corrage  to  synne,  but 
yiven  his  body  and  al  his  herte  to  the  service  of 
Jhesu  Crist,  and  therof  do  him  homage.  For 
certis  oure  swete  Lord  Jhesu  Crist  hath  sparid  us 
so  debonerly  in  oure  folyes,  that  if  he  ne  hadde 
pite  of  mannes  soule,  sory  songe  mighte  we  alle 
synge. 


28G  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

EXPLICIT  PEIHA   TAES   PENITENTIJS  ;    EX  INCIPIT 
SECUNDA    PAES    EJITSDEM. 

l^^g^HE  seeounde  partye  of  penitence  is  con- 
fessioun,  that  is,  signe  of  contricioun. 
Now  sehul  ye  understonde  what  is  con- 
fessioun  ;  and  whethir  it  oughte  needes 
be  doon  or  noon ;  and  whichc  thinges  ben  conven- 
able  to  verray  confessioun.  First  sehalt  thou 
understonde,  that  confessioun  is  verrey  schewyng 
of  synnes  to  the  prest ;  this  is  to  sayn  verray,  for 
ho  moot  schewe  him  of  alle  the  condiciouns  that 
ben  longynge  to  his  synne,  as  ferforth  as  he  can ; 
al  mot  be  sayd,  and  nought  excused,  ne  hyd,  ne 
forwrappid ;  and  nought  avaunte  him  of  his  goode 
werkis.  And  forthermore  it  is  necessary  to  under- 
stonde whens  that  sj-nnes  springe,  and  how  thay 
encfesen,  and  whiche  thay  ben. 

Of  the  springing  of  synnes  as  seint  Poul  saith, 
in  this  wise ;  that  right  as  by  a  man  synne  entrede 
first  into  this  world,  and  thorugh  that  synne  deth, 
right  so  thilke  deth  entred  into  alle  men  that 
synneden  3  and  this  man  was  Adam,  by  whom  that 
synne  entred  into  this  world,  whan  he  brak  the 
comaundement  of  God.  And  therfore  he  that 
first  was  so  mighty,  that  he  schulde  not  have  deyed, 
bicam  siththe  suche  on  that  he  moste  needis  deye, 
whethir  he  wolde  or  noon,  and  al  his  progenie 
that  is  in  this  world,  that  in  thilke  manner  syn- 
neden. Loke  that  in  the  estate  of  innocence,  whan 
Adam  and  Eve  nakid  were  in  Paradys,  and  no 
thing  schame  ne  hadden  of  her  nakidnesse,  how 


THE   PERSONES   TALE.  287 

that  the  serpent,  that  was  most  wily  of  alle  other 
bestis  that  god  hadde  makid,  sayde  to  the  wom- 
man,  why  comaundid  God  to  yow  ye  schulde 
nought  ete  of  every  tree  in  Paradys  ?  The  worn- 
man  answerde,  of  the  fruyt,  quod  she,  of  the  trees 
in  Paradys  we  feede  us,  but  sothly  of  the  fruyt  of 
the  tre  that  is  in  the  myddil  of  Paradis  God  forbad 
lis  for  to  eten,  ne  not  touehe  it,  lest  peraventure 
we  schulde  deye.  The  serpent  sayde  to  the  wom- 
man,  nay,  nay,  ye  schal  not  deye  of  deth,  for  sothe 
God  wot,  that  what  day  ye  ete  therof  youre  eyen 
schal  open  and  ye  schul  ben  as  goddis,  knowing 
good  and  harm.  The  womman  saugh  the  tree 
was  good  to  feedyng,  and  fair  to  the  eyen,  and  de- 
litable  to  sight ;  she  tok  of  the  fruyt  of  the  tree 
and  eet  it,  and  yaf  to  hir  housbond,  and  he  eet  it ; 
and  anoon  the  eyen  of  hem  bothe  opcneden ;  and 
whan  that  thay  knewe  that  thay  were  naked,  thay 
sowede  of  fige  leves  in  maner  of  breches,  to  hiden 
here  membris.  Here  may  ye  see,  that  dedlj^  synne 
hath  first  suggcstioun  of  the  feend,  as  scheweth 
here  by  the  neddir  ;  and  aftirward  the  delit  of  the 
fleisch,  as  scheweth  here  by  Eve ;  and  after  that 
the  consentyng  of  resoun,  as  schewith  by  Adam. 
For  trustith  wcl,  though  so  were  that  the  feend 
temptid  oon,  Eve,  that  is  to  sayn  the  fleissch,  and 
the  Jiessche  hadcZe  delit  in  the  beaute  of  the  fruyt 
defendid,  yit  certes  til  that  resoun,  that  is  to  say, 
Adam,  consentide  to  the  etyng  of  the  fruyt,  yit  stood 
he  in  thastaat  of  innocence.  Of  thilk  Adam  took 
we  thilke  synne  original ;  for  of  him  ilesschly  des- 
cendit  be  we  alle  and  engcndrit  of  vile  and  corrupt 
matiere ;  and  whan  the  soule  is  put  in  oure  body. 


288  THE   CAI^TERBURY    TxVLES. 

right  anoon  is  contract  original  synne ;  and  that, 
that  was  erst  hut  cnehj  j;f_y«e  of  concupiscence,  is 
aftei'warde  bothe  peyne  and  sinne  ;  and  therefore  be 
we  alle  i-born  sones  of  wraththe,  and  of  dampna- 
cioun  perdurable,  if  it  nere  baptisms  that  we  re- 
scep'en,  which  bynymeth  us  the  cidpe.  But  for- 
sothe  the  peyne  duellith  with  us  as  to  temptacioun, 
which  peyne  highte  concupiscence.  And  this  con- 
cupiscence, whan  it  is  wrongfully  disposed  or  or- 
deyned  in  man,  it  maldth  him  to  covey te,  the 
covetise  of  fleisschly  synne,  by  sight  of  his  eyghen, 
as  to  erthely  thinges,  and  oek  coveityse  of  heigh- 
nesse,  as  by  pride  of  herte. 

Now  as  to  speke  of  the  firste  covcitise,  that  is 
concupiscence  after  the  lawe  of  oure  membris,  that 
weren  lawfulli  maJced,  and  he  rihtful  jugganent  of 
God,  I  sale,  for  as  moche  that  a  man  is  nought  also 
obeissant  to  God,  that  is  his  Lord,  therfore  is 
fleissch  to  him  disobeisant  thurgh  concupiscence, 
which  that  yit  is  cleped  norisshing  of  synne,  and 
occasion  of  synne.  Therfore,  al  the  while  that  a 
man  hath  in  him  the  peyne  of  concupiscence,  it  is 
impossible  but  he  be  tempted  somtyme  and  moeved 
in  his  fleisch  to  synne.  And  this  may  not  faile, 
as  longe  as  he  liveth.  Hit  may  wel  wexe  feble  and 
faille  by  vertu  of  baptisme,  and  by  the  grace  of 
God  thorugh  penitence  ;  but  fully  schal  it  never 
quenche,  that  he  schal  somtyme  be  moeved  in 
himself,  but  if  he  were  al  refreynit  by  siknes, 
or  by  mal</ice  of  sorserye,  or  colde  drinkes.  For 
what  saith  seint  Poul  ?  the  fleissh  coveitith  agayn 
the  spirit,  and  the  spirit  agayn  the  fleisch ;  tliay 
ben  so  contrarie  and  so  stryven,  that  a  man  may 


THE   PERSONES   TALE.  289 

nought  alway  do  as  ho  wolde.  The  same  seint 
Poul,  after  his  penaunce,  in  watir  and  in  lond  ;  in 
watir  by  night  and  by  day,  in  gret  peril,  and 
in  gret  peyne  ;  in  lond  and  in  famyne  and  in 
thurst,  and  colde  and  clothles  ;  oones  almost 
stoned  al  to  the  deth ;  yit  saide  he,  alias  !  I  caytif 
man,  who  schal  delyvere  me  fro  the  prisoun  of  my 
caytif  bodj'  ?  And  seint  Jerom,  whan  he  long 
tyme  hadcZe  vv'oned  in  desert,  here  Avher  as  he  haddc 
no  compaignye  but  of  wilde  bestes ;  wher  as 
he  hadde  no  mete  but  herbes,  and  water  to  his 
drink,  ne  non  bed  but  the  nakid  erthe,  for  which 
his  fleisch  was  as  blak  as  an  Ethiopcn,  for  hete,  and 
neigh  destroyed  for  cold ;  yit  sayde  he,  that  the 
brennyng  of  lecchery  boylid  in  al  his  body.  Wher- 
fore  I  wot  wel  sicurly  that  thay  be  desceyved  that 
say,  thay  ben  not  temptid  in  here  body.  Wit- 
nesse  on  seint  Jame  thapostil,  that  saith,  that 
every  wight  is  tempted  in  his  oughne  concu- 
piscence ;  that  is  to  sayn,  that  everych  of  us  hath 
matere  and  occasioun  to  be  tempted  of  the  norisch- 
yng  of  synne  that  is  in  his  body.  And  therfore 
seint  Johan  the  Evaungelist  saith,  if  that  we  sayn 
we  be  withoute  synne,  we  deeeyve  ouresilf,  and 
trouthe  is  nought  in  us. 

Now  schal  yc  understonde  in  what  maner  that 
synne  waxith  and  encresceth  in  a  man.  The 
firste  thing  is  thilke  norisching  of  synne,  of  which 
I  spak  biforn,  thilke  concupiscence  ;  and  after  that 
cometh  the  suggestionG  of  the  devel,  this  is  to 
sayn,  the  develes  bely,  with  which  he  bloweth  in 
man  the  fuyr  of  fleisschly  concupiscence ;  and 
after  that  a  man  bythinkei/i  him  whethir  he  wol 

TOL.    III.  V 


290  THE   CANTERBUHY  TALES. 

don  it  or  non,  thilke  thing  to  which  he  is  tempted. 
And  thanne  if  that  a  man  withstonde  and  wayve 
the  firste  entisynges  of  his  fleisshe,  and  of  the 
feend,  it  is  no  synnc  ;  and  if  so  be  he  do  not  so, 
thanne  felcth  he  anoon  a  flame  of  delit,  and 
thanne  it  is  good  to  be  war  and  kcpe  him  wel,  or 
elHs  he  wil  falle  anoon  into  consenting  of  synne, 
and  thanne  wol  he  do  it,  if  he  may  have  tyme,  and 
space,  and  place.  And  of  this  matere  saith  Moyses 
by  the  devel,  in  this  maner  ;  the  feend  saith,  I  avoI 
chace  and  pursewe  the  man  by  wicldd  suggestiouns, 
and  I  wil  hent  him  by  moevyng  or  steryng  of 
synne,  and  I  Avil  parte  my  prise,  or  my  pray,  by 
deliberacioun,  and  my  lust  schal  be  aceomplisit  in 
delit  ;  I  wil  drawe  my  sword  in  consentynge  ; 
(for  certes,  right  as  a  swerd  departith  a  thing  in 
tuo  parties,  right  so  consentynge  departeth  God 
fro  man  ;)  and  thanne  wol  I  sle  him  with  my  bond 
in  dede  of  synne.  Thus  saith  the  feend ;  for 
certis,  thanne  is  a  man  al  deed  in  soule ;  and  thus 
is  synne  accomjj&id,  by  temptacioun,  by  delit,  and 
by  consentyng;  and  thanne  is  the  synne  cleped 
actuel. 

For  sothe  synne  is  in  two  maneres,  outlier  it  is 
venial,  or  dedly  synne.  Sothly,  whan  man  lovith 
any  creature  more  than  Jhesu  Crist  oure  ereatour, 
thanne  it  is  dedly  synne  ;  and  venial  synne  is,  if  a 
man  love  Jhesu  Crist  lesse  than  him  oughte.  For 
sothe  the  dede  of  this  venial  synne  is  ful  perilous, 
for  it  amenisith  the  love  that  men  schulde  have  to 
God,  more  and  more.  And  therfore  if  a  man 
charge  more  himself  with  manysuche  venial  synnes, 
certes,  but  if  so  be  that  he  som  tyme  discharge  him 


THE   PERSONES  TALE.  291 

of  hem  by  schrifte,  thay  maye  ful  lightly  amenise 
in  him  al  the  love  that  he  hath  to  Jhesu  Crist ; 
and  in  this  wise  skippith  venial  into  dedly  synne. 
For  certes,  the  more  that  a  man  chargith  his  soule 
with  venial  synnes,  the  more  is  he  enclyncd  to  falle 
in  deedly  synne.  And  therfore  let  us  nought  be 
negligent  to  descharge  us  of  venial  synnes.  For 
the  proverbe  saith,  that  many  smale  makith  a  gret. 
And  herken  this  ensample ;  a  greet  Avawe  of  the 
see  Cometh  som  tj-me  with  so  gret  a  violence,  that 
it  drenchith  the  schip ;  and  the  same  harm  doon 
som  tyme  smale  droppis  of  watir,  that  entrith 
thurgh  a  litil  creves  into  the  thurrok,  and  into  the 
bothum  of  a  schip,  if  men  be  so  neggiigent,  that 
thay  descharge  it  nought  by  tyme.  And  therfore, 
although  ther  be  difterrence  betueene  these  tuo 
causes  of  drenching,  algates  the  schip  is  dreynt. 
Right  so  farith  it  som  tyme  of  deedly  synne,  and 
of  anoyous  venial  synnes,  whan  thay  multiplien  in 
a  man  so  gretly,  that  thilke  worldly  thynges  that 
he  loveth,  thurgh  which  he  sinneth  venially,  is  as 
gret  in  his  herte  as  the  love  of  God,  or  more.  And 
therfore  the  love  of  every  thing  that  is  not  byset  in 
God,  no  doon  principally  for  Goddes  sake,  although 
a  man  love  it  lasse  than  God,  j'it  is  it  venial  synne  ; 
and  deedly  sj'nne,  whan  the  love  of  eny  thing 
weyeth  in  the  hort  of  a  man,  as  moclie  as  the  love 
of  God,  or  more.  Dedly  synne  is,  as  saith  seint 
Austyn,  whan  man  torneth  his  hert  from  God, 
which  that  is  verray  soverayn  bounte,  that  may  not 
chaunge  and  tlitte,  and  yive  his  herte  to  a  thing 
that  may  chaunge  and  flitte ;  and  certes,  that  is 
every  thing  save  onely  God  of  heven.     For  sothe,  if 


292  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

that  a  man  yive  his  love,  the  Avhich  that  he  owith 
to  God  witli  al  his  herte,  unto  a  creature,  certes,  as 
moche  of  love  as  he  yiveth  to  thilke  creature,  so 
moche  he  reveth  fro  God,  and  therfore  doth  he 
synne,  for  he  that  is  dcttour  to  God,  ne  yeldeth 
not  to  God  al  his  dette,  that  is  to  sayn,  al  the  love 
of  his  hert. 

Now  siththe  man  understondith  generally  which 
is  venial  synne,  thanne  is  it  covenable  to  telle  spe- 
cially of  synnes,  whiche  that  many  a  man  peraven- 
ture  ne  demith  hem  no  synnes,  and  schryveth  him 
not  of  the  same  thinges,  and  yit  nathelcs  thay  ben 
synnes  ;  and,  sothly,  as  clerkes  writen  ;  this  is  to 
saj',  at  every  tyme  that  man  etith  or  drinkitli 
more  than  suffiseth  to  the  sustienaunce  of  his  body, 
in  certeyn  he  doth  synne ;  and  eek  whan  he  spekith 
more  than  it  needith,  he  doth  synne  ;  and  eek  whan 
he  herkeneth  nought  benignoly  the  pleynt  of 
the  pore ;  eek  whan  he  is  in  hele  of  body,  and 
wil  not  faste  whan  other  folk  flisten,  withouten 
cause  resonable ;  eek  whan  he  slepith  more  than 
needith,  or  whan  he  cometh  by  thilk  enchcsoun  to 
late  to  holy  chirehe,  or  to  other  werkes  of  charitc  ; 
eke  whan  he  useth  his  wyf  withoute  soverayn  desir 
of  engendrure,  to  thonour  of  God,  and  for  thentent 
to  yelde  his  wyf  the  dette  of  his  body  ;  eek  whan 
he  wil  not  visite  the  sike,  and  the  prisoner,  if  he 
may  ;  eek  if  he  love  wyf,  or  child,  or  other  worldly 
thing,  more  than  resoun  requireth  ;  eek  if  he  flatere 
or  blaundisshe  more  than  him  oughte  for  cny  ne- 
cessite ;  ek  if  a  man  menuse  or  withdrawe  the 
almesse  of  the  povere ;  eek  if  he  apparaylith  his 
mete  more  deliciously  than  it  nedith,  or  ete  it  to 


THE    PERSONES   TALE,  293 

hastil}'  b}-  licouresncs  ;  eek  if  he  talke  of  vanitees 
at  chirche,  or  at  Goddis  service,  or  that  he  be  a 
talkcre  of  3-dile  wordes  of  vanite  or  of  vilonye,  for 
he  schal  yelde  of  hem  acount  at  the  day  of  doomc  ; 
t'ck  whan  he  heetith  or  assureth  to  do  thinges  that 
he  may  nought  performe  ;  eek  whan  that  by  light- 
nes  or  foly  he  myssaith  or  seorneth  his  neighebor ; 
eek  whan  he  hath  eny  -wicked  suspeccioun  of  thing, 
that  he  wot  of  it  no  sothfastnesse :  these  thinges 
and  mo  withoute  nombre  ben  synnes,  as  saith  seint 
Austyn.  Now  schal  men  understonde,  that  al  be 
it  so  that  noon  crthely  man  may  eschiewe  alle  venial 
synnes,  yit  may  lie  refreyne  hem  by  the  brennyng 
love  that  he  hath  to  oure  Lord  Jhesu  Crist,  and  by 
prayeres,  and  by  confessioun,  and  other  goodc 
werkes,  so  that  it  schal  but  litil  greve.  For,  as 
saith  seint  Austyn,  yif  a  man  love  God  in  such  a 
maner,  that  al  that  ever  he  doth  is  in  the  love  of 
God,  or  for  the  love  of  God  vcrraily,  for  he  bren- 
neth  in  the  love  of  God,  loke  how  moche  that  a 
drope  of  watir,  that  fallith  in  a  furneys  ful  of  fuyr, 
annoyeth  or  greveth  the  hraminge  of  the  fyre,  so 
moche  in  like  manere  annoyeth  or  greveth  a  venial 
synne  unto  a  man  that  is  perfyt  in  the  love  of  Jhesu 
Crist.  Men  may  also  refreyne  venial  synne,  by  the 
rcsce}"vyng  of  the  precious  body  of  Jhesu  Crist ; 
by  receyvyng  eek  of  holy  water  ;  by  almes  dede  ; 
by  general  confessioun  of  Confiteor  at  masse,  and 
at  pi'ijme,  and  at  complyn  ;  and  i//  blessing  of  bis- 
sehops  and  of  prcstcs,  and  by  other  goode  wcrkis. 
Now  it  is  bihovely  thing  to  telle  whiche  ben 
dedly  synnes,  that  is  to  sayn,  chiveteyns  of  synnes  ; 
for  as  moche  as  alle  thay  renne  in  oon  loos,  but  in 


294  THE   CATs^TERBURY  TALES. 

divers  maners.  Now  ben  thay  cleped  chiveLcyns, 
for  als  inoche  as  thay  ben  chief  and  springers  of 
alle  othere  synnes.  The  roote  of  these  seven  synnes 
thanne  is  pride,  the  general  synne  and  roote  of 
alle  harmes.  For  of  this  roote  springen  general 
braunches  ;  as  ire,  en\ye,  accidie  or  sleuthe,  avarice 
or  coveitise  (to  commune  understondynge),  glo- 
tonye,  and  leccherie :  and  everieh  of  these  synnes 
hath  his  braunches  and  his  twigges,  as  schal  be  de- 
clarid  in  here  chapitres  folwinge. 

DE    STTPERBIA. 

And  though  so  be,  that  no  man  can  telle  utterly 
the  nombre  of  the  twigges,  and  of  the  harm  that 
cometh  of  pride,  yit  wol  I  sehewe  a  par  y  of  hem, 
as  ye  schul  understondo.  Ther  is  inobedience, 
avauntyng,  ypocrisye,  despit,  arragaunce,  impu- 
dence, swellyng  of  hert,  insolence,  elaeioun,  inpa- 
cience,  strif,  contumacie,  2'>'>"esiimpcioun,  irreverence, 
pertinacie,  veinglorie,  and  many  another  twigge 
that  I  can  not  telle  ne  declare.  Inobedient  is  he 
that  disobeicth  for  despyt  to  the  comaundementz 
of  God,  and  to  his  sovereigns,  and  to  his  gostly 
fader.  Avauntour,  is  he  that  bosteth  of  the  harm 
or  of  the  bounte  that  he  hath  don.  Ypocrisj,  is 
he  that  hydetli  to  sehewe  him  such  as  he  is,  and 
scheweth  him  such  as  he  is  not.  Despitous,  is  he 
that  hath  desdayn  of  hisneighebour,  that  is  to  say, 
of  his  evencristen,  or  hath  despit  to  doon  that  him 
oughte  to  doon.  Arragaunt,  is  he  that  thinketh 
that  he  hath  thilke  bountees  in  him,  that  he  hath 
not,  or  weneth  that  he  schulde  have  hem  by  desert, 


THE   PERSONES    TALE.  295 

or  elles  he  demeth  that  he  is  that  he  is  not.  Im- 
pudent, is  he  that  for  his  pride  hath  no  schame  of 
his  synne.  Swellyng  of  hert,  is  whan  a  man  re- 
joysith  him  of  harm  that  he  hath  don.  Insolent, 
is  he  that  dispisith  in  his  juggement  alle  other 
folk,  as  to  regard  of  his  valieu,  and  of  his  connyng, 
and  of  his  spekyng,  and  of  his  beryng.  Elacioun, 
is  whan  he  may  never  suffre  to  have  maister  ne 
felawe.  Impacient,  is  he  that  wil  not  ben  i-tanght 
ne  undernome  of  his  vices,  and  by  stryf  werreth 
trouthe  witynge/?/,  and  defendeth  his  folie.  Conti- 
max,  is  he  that  thorugh  his  indignacioun  is  agains 
everych  auctorite  or  power  of  hem  that  been  his 
soverayns.  Presumpeioun,  is  whan  a  man  under- 
takith  and  emprisith  that  him  oughte  not  to  do,  or 
elles  that  he  may  not  doo,  and  that  is  cleped  sur- 
quidrye.  Irreverence,  is  Avhan  men  doon  not 
honour  ther  as  hem  oughte  to  doon,  and  wayteth 
to  be  reverenced.  Pcrtinaeio,  is  Avhan  man  de- 
fendith  his  folye,  and  trustcth  to  moche  to  his  oAvne 
witte.  Vaynglorie,  is  for  to  have  pomp,  and  delit 
in  temporal  heighnes,  and  glorifie  him  in  worldly 
cstaat.  Jangelyng.  is  whan  a  man  spekith  to 
moche  biforn  folk,  and  elappith  as  a  mille,  and 
taketh  no  keep  Avhat  he  saith. 

And  yit  is  ther  a  prive  spice  of  pride,  that 
wayteth  first  to  be  saluet  er  he  saliewe,  al  be  he 
lasse  worth  than  that  other  is,  paradventure  ;  and 
eek  wayteth  or  desireth  to  sitte  above  him,  or  to  go 
above  him  in  the  Avay,  or  kisse  the  pax,  or  ben 
encensed,  or  gon  to  the  offringe  biforn  his  neighe- 
bore,  and  suche  semhlahle  tlimges,  against  Ids  dute 
peraventure,  hut  that  he  hath  his  herte  and  his  entente 


296  THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 

in  siiche  a  proud  desir  to  be  magnified  and  hon- 
oured toforn  the  poeple. 

Now  ben  ther  tuo  manors  of  pride  ;  that  oon  is 
heighnes  withinne  the  hert  of  a  man,  and  that 
other  is  withoute.  Of  which  sothly  these  for- 
sayde  thinges,  and  mo  than  I  have  said,  aperteynen 
to  pride  that  is  in  the  hert  of  a  man ;  and  that 
other  spices  of  pride  ben  withoute ;  but  natheles, 
that  oon  of  thise  spices  of  pride  is  signe  of  that 
other,  right  as  the  gay  levesselle  at  the  taverns  is 
signe  of  wyn  that  is  in  the  celer.  And  this  is  in 
many  thinges  ;  as  in  speehe  and  contienaunce,  and 
in  outrageous  array  of  clothing.  For  certis,  if 
ther  hadde  be  no  synne  in  clothing,  Crist  wolde 
not  so  soone  have  notid  and  spoke  of  the  clothing 
of  thilke  riche  man  in  the  gospel.  And  seint 
Grcgorie  saith,  that  precious  clothing  is  coupable 
for  derthe  of  it,  and  for  his  schortnes,  and  for  his 
straungenes  and  disgisines,  and  for  the  superfluite, 
or  for  the  inordinat  skantncs  of  it ;  alias !  many 
man  may  sen  as  in  oure  dayes,  the  synful  costlewe 
array  of  clothing,  and  name!//  in  to  moche  svper- 
Jluite,  or  elks  in  to  disordinat  scantnes. 

As  to  the  firste  sjjnne  that  is  in  swperjlulte  of 
clotheynge,  which  that  makid  is  so  dere,  to  harm  of 
the  poeple,  not  oonly  the  cost  of  embrowdyng,  the 
ffeguyse,  endentyng  or  barryng,  orrndyng,  palyng 
or  bendyng,  and  semblable  wast  of  cloth  in  vanite  ; 
but  ther  is  also  costlewe  furring  in  here  gownes, 
so  mochil  pounsyng  of  chiseles  to  make  holes,  so 
moche  daggyng  of  scheris,  for  with  the  superfluite 
in  lengthe  of  the  forsaide  gownes,  traylinge  in  the 
donge  and  in  the  myre,  on  hors  and  cek  on  foote, 


THE   PERSONES   TALE.  297 

as  wel  of  man  as  of  womman,  that  al  thilke  tray- 
]yng  is  yervaili/  (as  in  effect)  wasted,  consumed, 
thredbare,  and  rotyn  with  donge,  rather  than  it  is 
yevcn  to  the  pore,  to  gret  damage  of  the  forsaide 
pore  folke,  and  that  in  sondry  wise ;  this  is  to 
sain,  the  more  that  cloth  is  Avastid,  the  more  most 
it  coste  to  the  poeple  for  the  searsenes ;  and  for- 
thermore,  if  it  so  be  that  thay  wolde  yivc  suche 
pounsed  and  daggid  clothing  to  the  pore  folk,  it  is 
not  convenient  to  were  to  the  pore  folk,  ne  suffi- 
saunt  to  beete  here  necessite,  to  kepe  hem  fro  the 
desperance  of  the  colde  firmament.  Upon  that  other 
syde,  to  speke  of  the  horrible  disordinat  scantnes 
of  clothing,  as  ben  these  cuttid  sloppis  or  anslets, 
that  thurgh  her  schortnes  ne  covereth  not  the 
schamful  membres  of  man,  to  wickid  entent ;  alias ! 
som  men  of  hem  schcwcn  the  schap  and  the  boce 
of  the  horrible  swollen  membres,  that  semeth  like 
to  the  maledies  of  hirnia,  in  the  wrapping  of  hero 
hose,  and  eek  the  buttokes  of  hem,  that  farcn  as  it 
were  the  hinder  part  of  the  sche  ape  in  the  fuUc  of 
the  moone.  And  moreover  the  wrecchid  swollen 
membres  that  thay  schewc  thurgh  desgysyng,  in 
departyng  of  here  hoses  in  whyt  and  reed,  seemith 
that  half  the  schameful  prive  membres  wore  flayn. 
And  if  it  so  be  that  thay  departe  here  hosen  in 
other  colours,  as  is  whit  and  bliew,  or  whit  and 
blak,  or  blak  and  reed,  and  so  forth ;  thannc 
semith  it,  as  by  variaunco  of  colour,  that  half  the 
party  of  his  pri\-y  membris  ben  corrupt  by  the 
fuyr  of  seint  Antony,  or  by  eanere,  or  by  otlier  such 
meschaunce.  And  yit  of  the  hynder  partye  of 
here  buttokes  it  is  ful  horrible   for  to  see,  for 


298  THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 

certis  in  that  partic  of  here  body  ther  as  thay 
purgen  her  stynkyng  ordure,  tliat  foiile  party 
schewe  thay  to  the  poeple  proudly  in  despj't  of 
honcsie,  which  honeste  that  Jhesu  Crist  and  his 
frendes  observeden  to  schoAven  in  hire  lif.  Now  as 
of  the  outrageous  array  of  wommen,  God  wot,  that 
though  the  visage  of  some  of  hem  seme  ful  chaste 
and  debonaire,  yit  notifye  thay,  in  here  array  of 
attyre,  licorousnesse  and  pride.  I  say  not  that 
honeste  in  clothing  of  man  or  womman  is  un- 
covenable,  but  certis  the  superfluite  or  disordinat 
skantnes  of  clothing  is  reprevable.  Also  the  synne 
of  here  ornament,  or  of  apparaile,  as  in  thinges 
that  aperteynen  to  rjdyng,  as  in  to  many  delicat 
horses,  that  ben  holden  for  delyt,  that  thay  ben  so 
faire,  fat,  and  costlewe ;  and  also  in  many  a 
vicious  knave,  mayntened  bj^cause  of  hem  ;  and  in 
to  curious  harnoys,  as  in  sadelis,  and  bridlis, 
croupours,  and  peytrelle,  covered  with  precious 
clothing,  and  riche  barres  and  plates  of  gold  and  of 
silver.  For  whichc  God  saith  by  Zacharie  the 
prophete,  I  Avol  confounde  the  ryders  of  such 
horsis.  These  folk  take  litil  reward  of  the  ryding 
of  Goddes  sone  of  heven,  and  of  his  barneys,  whan 
he  rode  upon  an  asse,  and  hadde  noon  other 
barneys  but  the  clothing  of  his  povere  disciples. 
We  ne  rede  not  that  ever  he  rode  on  other  beest.  I 
speke  this  for  the  synne  of  superfluite,  and  nought 
for  resonable  honeste,  whan  resoun  it  requirith. 
And  fortherover,  cartes  pride  is  gretly  notified  in 
holdyng  of  gret  meyne,  whan  thay  ben  of  litil 
profyt  or  of  right  no  profyt,  and  namely  whan 
that  mevne  is   felenous  and  daungerous    to   the 


THE    PERSONES   TALE.  299 

poeple  b}^  hardynesse  of  lordschipe,  or  by  way  of 
offices ;  for  certes,  suche  lordes  selle  thanne  here 
lordschipe  to  the  devel  of  helle,  whan  thay  sus- 
tcyne  the  wickidnes  of  here  meyne.  Or  elles, 
Avhan  these  folic  of  low  degre,  as  is  thilke  that 
holden  hostilries,  and  susteyne  the  thefte  of  her 
hostilers,  and  that  is  in  many  maneres  of  disceytes; 
thilke  manor  of  folk  ben  the  flyes  that  fohven  the 
hony,  or  elles  the  houndcs  that  folwen  the  carayn. 
Suche  forsayde  folk  strangelen  spiritually  here 
lordschipes ;  for  whiche  thus  saith  David  the 
prophete,  wikked  deth  moot  come  upon  such  lord- 
schipes, and  God  yeve  that  thaj^  moote  descende 
into  helle  adoun  ;  for  in  here  houses  ben  iniquities 
and  sehrewednesses,  and  not  God  of  heven.  And 
certes,  but  thay  do  amendement,  right  so  as  Jacob 
yaf  his  benisoun  to  Laban  by  the  service  of  God, 
and  to  Pharao  by  the  service  of  Joseph,  right  so 
God  wil  yeve  his  malisoun  to  such  lordschipes  as 
susteynen  the  wikkednes  of  her  scrvauntcs,  but 
thay  come  to  amendement. 

Pride  of  the  table  apperith  ful  ofte ;  for  certes 
riche  men  ben  cleped  to  festes,  and  pore  folk 
ben  put  away  and  rebuked  ;  also  in  excesse  of 
divers  metis  and  drinkis,  and  namely  of  suche 
manor  of  bake  metis  and  dische  metes  brennyng 
of  wilde  fuyr,  and  peynted  and  castelid  with  papire, 
and  semblable  v/ast,  so  that  it  is  abusioun  for  to 
thinke.  And  eek  in  greet  preeiousnes  of  vessel, 
and  in  curiousnesse  of  vessel,  and  of  mynstralcye, 
by  the  whiche  a  man  is  stired  the  more  to  delitis 
of  luxurie  ;  if  so  be  that  thay  sette  her  herte  the 
lasse  upon  oure  Lord  Jhesu  Crist,  certeyn  it  is  a 


300  THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 

synne ;  and  certeinly  the  delites  mighte  be  so  grete 
in  this  caas,  that  men  mighte  lightly  falle  by  hem 
into  dedly  synne.  The  espices  that  sourdren  of 
pride,  sothely  whan  thay  sourdren  of  malice  y- 
magined  and  avised,  aforn  cast,  or  ellcs  of  usage, 
ben  dedly  synnes,  it  is  no  doute.  And  whan  thay 
sourden  by  frelte  unavysed  sodeinly,  and  sodeinly 
withdrawe  agayn,  al  be  thay  grevous  synnes,  I 
gesso  thay  ben  not  dedly.  Now  mighte  men  axe, 
whereof  pride  sourdeth  and  springeth.  I  say  som 
tyme  it  springith  of  the  goodes  of  nature,  and  som 
tymc  of  the  goodes  of  fortune,  and  som  tyme  of 
the  goodes  of  grace.  Certcs  the  goodes  of  nature 
stondcn  outher  in  goodes  of  body,  or  goodes  of 
soule.  Certis,  the  goodes  of  the  body  ben  hele  of 
body,  strengthe,  deliverwesse,  beauto',  gentrie, 
fraunchise ;  the  goodes  of  nature  of  the  soule  ben 
goode  wit,  scharp  understondyng,  subtil  engyn, 
vertu  naturel,  good  memorie;  goodes  of  fortune 
been  richesses,  highe  degrees  of  lordschipes,  and 
preisyngof  the  poeple;  goodes  of  grace  been  science, 
power  to  suffre  spirituel  travaiIe,benignite,vertuous 
contemplacioim,  withstondyng  of  temptacioun,  and 
semblable  thinges ;  of  whiche  forsayde  goodes, 
certes  it  is  a  ful  grot  foly,  a  man  to  pryden  him 
in  any  of  hem  alle.  Noav  as  for  to  speke  of  goodes 
of  nature,  God  wot  that  som  tyme  we  have  hem 
in  nature  as  moehe  as  to  oure  damage  as  to  oure 
profit.  As  for  to  speke  of  hele  of  body,  certes  it 
])assith  ful  lightly,  and  eek  it  is  ful  ofte  cnchosoun 
of  the  siknesse  of  the  soule.  For  God  ivoote,  the 
ftesshe  is  a  fid  grete  emny  to  the  soule;  and  ther- 
fore  the  more  that  oure  body  is  hool,  the  more  be 


THE   PERSONES   TALE.  301 

we  in  peril  to  fallc.  Eke  for  to  pride  him  in  liis 
strengthe  of  body,  it  is  a  foly  ;  for  eertes  the  fleisch 
coveytith  again  the  spirit ;  and  ay  the  more  strong 
that  the  flciscli  is,  the  soricr  may  the  soule  be ; 
and  overal,  tliis  strengthe  of  body  and  worldly 
hardynes  eauseth  ful  ofte  many  man  peril  and 
mesehaunee.  Eek  for  to  pride  him  of  his  gentrie 
is  ful  gret  folye  ;  for  often  tymo  the  gentrie  of  the 
body  bynymeth  the  gentery  of  the  soule ;  and  we 
ben  alle  of  oon  fader  and  of  con  modcr;  and  alle 
we  ben  of  oon  nature  roten  and  corrupt,  hotlie 
riehe  and  pore.  For  sothe  oon  maner  gentry  is 
for  to  prayse,  that  apparailleth  manncs  corrage 
with  vertues  and  moralitees,  and  makith  him 
Cristes  child ;  for  trustith  wel,  over  Avhat  man 
that  synne  hath  maistry,  he  is  a  verray  cherl  to 
synne. 

Now  ben  ther  general  signes  of  gentilessce ;  as 
schewyng  of  vice  and  rybaudrie,  and  servage  of 
synne,  in  word,  in  work  and  contenaimcc,  and 
usinge  vertu,  curtesie,  and  clennes,  and  to  be 
liberal,  that  is  to  sayn,  large  by  mesure  ;  for  thilke 
that  passith  mesure  is  foly  and  synne.  And  another 
is  to  remembre  him  of  bounte  that  he  of  other  folk 
hath  resceyved.  Another  is  to  be  benigne  to  his 
goode  subjectis  ;  w^herfore,  as  saith  Senek,  ther  is 
nothing  more  covenable  to  a  man  of  heigh  estate, 
than  debonairte  and  pite ;  and  therfore  thise  flies 
than  men  clepen  bees,  whan  thay  make  here  king, 
thay  chesen  oon  that  hath  no  pricke  wherwith  he 
may  stynge.  Another  is,  a  man  to  have  a  noble 
herte  and  a  diligent,  to  atteigne  to  hihe  vertuous 
thinges.     Certis,  also  who  that  prideth  him  in  the 


302  THE   CANTERBURY  TALES. 

goodes  of  grace,  is  eek  an  outrageous  fool ;  for 
thilke  yiftes  of  grace  that  schulde  have  i-torned 
liim  to  goodnes  and  medicyne,  torneth  him  to 
venym  and  to  confusioun,  as  saith  scint  Gregory. 
Ctrtis  also,  who-so  pridith  him  in  the  goodes 
of  fortune,  he  is  a  ful  gret  fool ;  for  som  tyme  is 
a  man  a  gret  lord  by  the  morwe,  that  is  a  caytif 
and  a  wrecche  er  it  be  night ;  and  some  tyme  the 
riches  of  a  man  is  cause  of  his  deth :  and  som 
tyme  the  delice  of  a  man  is  cause  of  his  grevous 
maledye,  thurgh  which  he  deieth.  Certis,  the 
commendacioun  of  the  poeple  is  som  tyme  ful  fals 
and  ful  brutil  for  to  trusts ;  this  day  thay  prayse, 
to  morwe  thay  blame.  God  woot,  desir  to  have 
commendacioun  of  the  poeple  hath  causid  deth  of 
many  a  busy  man. 

EEMEDIUM  COKTEA  STJPERBIAM. 

Now  sith  so  is,  that  ye  han  herd  and  understonde 
what  is  pride,  and  whiche  ben  the  spices  of  it,  and 
whens  pride  sourdeth  and  springeth ;  now  schul 
ye  understonde  which  is  the  remedy  agayns  pride  ; 
and  that  is  humilitc  or  meekenes,  that  is  a  vertu 
thurgh  which  a  man  hath  verray  knowleche  of 
Iiimself,  and  holdith  of  liimself  no  pride,  ne  pris, 
ne  deynte,  as  in  regard  of  his  desertes,  considering 
evermore  his  frelte.  Now  ben  ther  thre  maners 
of  humilite  ;  as  humilite  in  hert,  another  is  humi- 
litc in  his  mouth,  the  thridde  in  his  workes.  The 
humilite  in  his  herte  is  in  foure  maners ;  that  oon 
is,  whan  a  man  holdith  himself  not  worth  biforn 
God  of  heven ;  another  is,  whan  he  despiseth  no 
man ;  tlie   thrid  is,  whan   he   ne  rekkith  nought 


THE   PERSONES   TALE.  303 

though  a  man  holde  him  nought  worth ;  the  ferthe 
is,  whan  he  holdeth  him  nought  sory  of  his  humi- 
liacioun.  Also  the  humilite  of  mouth  is  in 
foure  thinges ;  in  attempre  speche  ;  in  humbles  of 
speche;  and  whan  he  byknowith  with  his  owne 
mouth,  that  he  is  such  as  him  thenkith  that  he  is 
in  herte  ;  another  is,  whan  he  praisith  the  bounte 
of  another  man  and  nothing  thereof  amenusith. 
Humilite  eek  in  werk  is  in  foure  maneres.  The 
first  is,  whan  he  puttith  other  men-  tofore  him ; 
the  secounde  is,  to  chese  the  lowest  place  over  al; 
the  thrid  is,  gladly  to  assente  to  good  counseil ; 
the  ferthe  is,  gladly  to  stondo  to  thaward  of  his 
sovereyns,  or  of  him  that  is  in  heigher  degre ; 
certeyn  this  is  a  gret  werk  of  humilite. 

DE  INYIDIA. 

After  pride  now  wqI  I  speke  of  the  foule  synne 
of  envye,  which  that  is,  as  by  the  word  of  the 
philosophre,  sorwe  of  other  mennes  prosperite  ; 
and  after  the  word  of  scint  Austyn,  is  it  sorwe  of 
other  mennes  wele,  and  joye  of  other  mennes 
harm.  This  foule  synne  is  platly  agayns  the  Holy 
Gost.  Al  be  it  so,  that  every  synne  is  agayn  the 
Holy  Gost,  yit  natheles,  for  as  moche  as  bounte  aper- 
teyneth  proprel^yto  the  HolyGost,and  envye  cometh 
proprely  of  malice,  therfore  is  it  proprely  agayns 
the  bounte  of  the  Holy  Gost.  Now  hath  malice 
tuo  spices,  that  is  to  sayn,  hardnes  of  hert  in 
wickednes,  or  ellis  the  fleisch  of  man  is  so  blynd, 
that  he  considereth  not  that  he  is  in  synne,  or 
rekketh  not  that  he  is  in  synne  ;  wliich  is  the 
hardnes  of  the  devyl.       That  other  spice  of  cn\-ye 


304  THE   CANTERBrHY  TALES. 

is,  whan  a  man  warieth  trouthe,  and  wot  that  it  is 
trouthe,  and  eek  wan  he  warieth  the  grace  that 
God  hath  yeve  to  his  neighebor  ;  and  al  this  is  by 
envye.  Certcs  than  is  envye  the  worste  synne 
that  is  ;  for  sothely  alio  other  synnes  ben  somtyme 
oonly  agains  con  special  vertu ;  but  certes  envye  is 
agayns  alle  vertues  and  agayns  al  goodnes ;  for  it 
is  sorj'  of  alle  the  bountees  of  his  neighbor ;  and  in 
this  manor  it  is  divers  from  all  the  synnes  ;  for  wel 
unnethe  is  ther  any  synne  that  it  ne  hath  som 
delit  in  hi/self,  sauf  oonly  envye,  that  ever  hath  in 
itself  anguisch  and  sorwe.  The  spices  of  envye 
ben  these.  Ther  is  first  sorwe  of  other  mennes 
goodnes  and  of  her  prosperite ;  and  prosperite  is 
kyndely  matier  of  joye;  thanne  is  envye  a  synne 
agayns  kynde.  The  secounde  spice  of  envye  is 
joye  of  other  mennes  harm  ;  and  that  is  proprely 
lik  to  the  dcvyl,  that  ever  rejoyeth  him  of  mennes 
harm.  Of  these  tuo  spices  cometh  bakbityng ; 
and  this  synne  of  bakbytyng  or  detraccioun  hath 
certein  spices,  as  thus :  som  man  praisith  his 
neighebor  by  a  wackid  entent,  for  he  makith  alway 
a  wickid  knotte  atte  last  ende ;  alway  he  makith  a 
but  at  the  last  ende,  that  is  thing  of  more  blame, 
than  worth  is  al  the  praysing.  The  secounde 
spice  is,  that  if  a  man  be  good,  and  doth  or  saith 
a  thing  to  good  entent,  the  bakbiter  wol  torne  al 
thilke  goodnes  up-so-doun  to  his  schrewed  entent. 
The  thridde  is  to  amenuse  the  bounte  of  his 
neighebor.  The  ferthe  spiece  of  bakbytyng  is 
this,  that  if  men  speke  goodnes  of  a  man,  than 
wil  the  bakbiter  seyn,  '  Parfay,  yit  such  a  man  is 
bet  than  he ;'  in  dispraysynge  of  him  that  men 


THE   PERSONES   TALE.  305 

praise.  The  fifte  spice  is  this,  for  to  eonsente 
gladly  and  herken  gladly  to  the  harm  that  men 
speke  of  other  folk.  This  synne  is  ful  gret,  and 
ay  encresith  after  thentent  of  the  bakbiter.  After 
bakbytyng  cometh  grucching  or  murmuracioun, 
and  som  tyme  it  springith  of  mpaclcnce  agayns 
God,  and  somtyme  agains  man.  Agayns  God  is  it 
whan  a  man  grucchith  agayn  the  pyne  of  helle,  or 
agayns  povertc,  or  of  losse  of  catel,  or  agaj^ns 
reyn  or  tempest,  or  elles  grucchith  that  schrewes 
han  prosperite,  or  ellis  that  goode  men  han  ad- 
versitc  ;  and  alio  these  thinges  schulde  men  suffre 
paciently,  for  thay  come  by  rightful  juggement 
and  ordinaunce  of  God.  Som  tyme  cometh  grucch- 
ing of  avarice,  as  Judas  grucched  ayens  the  Maude- 
Icyn,  whan  sche  anoyntede  the  hed  of  oure  Lord 
Jhesu  Crist  with  hir  precious  oynement.  This 
maner  murmur  is  swich  as  Avhan  man  grucchith  of 
goodnes  that  himself  doth,  or  that  other  folk  doon 
of  here  owne  catel.  Som  tyme  cometh  murmur  of 
pride,  as  whan  Symon  the  Pharise  grucchid  agayn 
the  Maudeleyn,  whan  sche  approchide  to  Jhesu 
Crist  and  wepte  at  his  feet  for  hir  synnes  ;  and 
somtyme  it  sourdith  of  cnvye,  whan  men  dis- 
coveren  a  mannes  harm  that  was  prive,  or  bercth 
him  on  hond  thing  that  is  fals.  Murmuryng  cek 
is  ofte  among  servauntz,  that  grucchen  whan  here 
soverayns  bidden  hem  to  doon  leeful  thinges ;  and 
for  as  moche  as  thay  dare  nought  openly  withstonde 
the  comaundemcntz  of  here  soverayns,  yit  wol 
thay  sayn  harm  and  grucche  and  murmure  prively 
for  verray  despit ;  whicho  wordes  men  clepe  the 
develes  Pater  noster,  though  so  be  that  the  devel 

VOL.   TTT.  X 


306  THE  CANTERBURY   TALES. 

hadde  never  Pater  nostcr,  but  that  lewcd  men 
calle  it  so.  Som  tyme  it  cometh  of  ire  of  prive 
hate,  that  norischeth  rancour  in  herte,  as  after- 
ward I  schal  declare.  Thannc  cometh  eek  bitter- 
nes  of  herte,  thorugh  -which  bitternesse  every  good 
deede  of  his  neighebore  semeth  to  him  bitter  and 
unsavery.  But  thanne  cometh  discord  that  un- 
byndeth  alle  maner  of  frendschipe.  Thanne  cometh 
scornynge  of  his  neighebor,  al  do  he  never  so  wel. 
Thanne  cometh  accusyng,  as  whan  man  seketh 
occasioun  to  annoyen  his  neighebore,  which  that  is 
lik  the  craft  of  the  devel,  that  waytith  bothe  night 
and  day  to  accuse  us  alle.  Thanne  cometh 
malignitc,  thurgh  which  a  man  annoyeth  his 
neighebor  prively  if  ho  may,  and  if  he  may  not, 
algate  his  wikkid  wille  schal  nought  wante,  as  for 
to  brenne  his  hous  prively,  or  empoysone  him, 
or  slecn  his  bestis  prively,  and  semblable  thinges. 

P^EMEDIUM  CONTEA  IKVIDIAM. 

Now  wol  I  speke  of  the  remedies  agayns  thise 
foule  things  and  this  foule  synne  of  envye.  First 
is  the  love  of  God  principal,  and  lo\-ynge  of  his 
neighebor  as  himself;  sothely  that  oon  ne  may 
nought  ben  withoute  that  other.  And  truste  wel, 
that  in  the  name  of  thy  neighebour  thou  schalt 
understonde  the  name  of  thy  brother ;  for  certes 
alle  we  have  oon  fader  fleisschly,  and  oon  mooder, 
that  is  to  sain,  Adam  and  Eva  ;  and  eek  oon  fader 
spirituel,  and  that  is  God  of  heven.  Thy  neighe- 
bor artow  holden  for  to  love,  and  uilne  hiin  al 
godenesse,  and  therfore  seith  God,  Love  thine 
neyghehour  as  thiself ;    that  is  to  sayn,  bothe  to 


THE   PERSOXES   TALE.  307 

savacioun  of  lif  and  of  soule.     And  moreover  thou 
sehalt  love  him  in  word,  and  in  benigne  amonest- 
yng   and    chastising,    and    conforte    him    in    his 
annoyes,  and  jDraye  for  him  with,  al  thin  herte. 
And  in  dede  thou  sehalt  love  him  in  such  wise  that 
thou  sehalt  do  to  him  in  charite,  as  thou  woldist  it 
were  doon  to  thin  oughno  persone ;    and  therefore 
thou  sehalt  doon  him  noon  harme  in  wikted  word, 
ne  damage  him  in  his  body,  ne  in  his  catel,  ne  in 
his  soule,  by  wicked  entising  of  ensample.      Thou 
sehalt  nought  desiren  his  wif,  ne   noone   of  his 
thinges.     Understonde  eekthat  in  the  name  of  thy 
neighebor  is  comprehendid  his  enemy ;  certes  man 
sehal  love  his   enemy  by  the  comaundement  of 
God,  and  sothly  thy  frend  sehalt  thou  love  in  God, 
I  sayde  thin  enemy  schaltow  love  for  Goddes  sake, 
by  his  comaundement;  for  if  it  were  resoun  that 
man  schulde  hate  his  enemy,  forsothe  God  nolde 
nought    receyve    us   to   his    love    that    ben    his 
enemyes.     Agains  thre  manor  of  wronges  that  his 
enemy  doth  to  him,  he  sehal  do  thro  thinges,  as 
thus :  agayns  hate  and  rancour  of  herte,  he  sehal 
love  him  in  herte;  agayns  chydyng  and  wicked 
Avordes,   he  sehal  prayc  for  his  enemye ;    agains 
wikked  dede  of  his  enemy,  he   sehal   doon    him 
bounte.     For  Crist  saith,  loveth  youre  enemyes, 
and  prayeth  for  hem  that  speJce  yowe  harme,  and  eke 
for  Imn  that  yow  chacen  and  pursewen ;  and  doth 
bounte  to    hem  that  yow  haten.      Lo,  thus   co- 
mandeth  us  oiire  Lord  Jhesu  Ciist  to  do   to  ovre 
enemyes;    for  sothely  nature   driveth   us  to  love 
oure  frendes ;  and  parfay  oure  enemyes  han  more 
neede  to  love  than  oure  frendes.     For  sothely  to 


308  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

hem  that  more  neede  have,  ccrtis  to  hem  schul 
men  do  goodnes.  And  certis  in  thilke  dede  have 
we  the  remembraunee  of  the  love  of  Jhcsu  Crist  that 
dyede  for  his  enemys.  And  in  als  moche  as  thilke 
love  is  more  grevous  to  parforme,  so  mochc  is  the 
more  gret  remedye  and  mcryt,  and  therfore  the 
lovyng  of  oure  enemy  hath  confoundid  the  venym 
of  the  devel ;  for  right  as  the  devel  is  confoundid 
by  humilitc,  right  so  is  he  woundid  to  the  deth  by 
love  of  oure  enemy.  Certcs  thanne  is  love  the 
medicine  that  castith  out  the  venym  of  envye  fro 
mannes  hert.  The  spices  of  this  part  schuln 
be  more  largely  declared  in  here  chapitres  fohv- 
ynge. 

DE  lEA. 

After  envye  wol  I  descryven  the  synne  of  ire  ; 
for  sothely  who  so  hath  envye  upon  his  neighebor, 
anoon  he  wol  comunly  fynde  him  a  matiere  of 
wraththe  in  word  or  in  dede  agayns  him  to  whom  he 
hath  envie.  And  as  wel  cometh  ire  of  pride  as  of 
envye,  for  sothly  he  that  is  proud  or  envyous  is 
lightly  wroth.  This  synne  of  ire,  after  the  des- 
cryvyng  of  seint  Austeyn,  is  wikked  willc  to  ben 
avengid  by  word  or  by  dede.  Ire,  after  the  philo- 
sofer,  is  the  fervent  blood  of  man  i-quikcd  in  his 
hert,  thurgh  which  he  wolde  harm  to  him  that  him 
hatith  ;  for  certes  the  hert  of  man  by  cschawfyng 
and  moefyng  of  his  blood  waxith  so  trouble,  that 
he  is  out  of  alle  juggements  of  resoun.  But  ye 
schal  understonde  that  ire  is  in  tuo  maneres,  that 
oon  of  hem  is  good,  that  other  is  wikke.  The 
good  ire  is  by  jalousy  of  goodnesse,  thurgh  which 


THE   PERSONES   TALE.  309 

a  man  is  wroth  with  wikkidnes  and  ayeines  icylked- 
nesse.  And  therefore  saith  a  wise  man,  that  ire 
is  bet  than  play.  This  ire  is  with  dcboneirete,  and 
it  is  wroth  without  bitternes ;  not  wroth  with  the 
man,  but  wroth  with  the  mysdedes  of  the  man  ; 
as  saith  the  prophet  David,  Irascimini,  et  nolite 
2)eccare,  etc.  Now  understonde  that  wikked  ire  is 
in  tuo  maners,  that  is  to  sayn,  sodeyn  ire  or  hastif 
ire  withoute  avysement  and  consenting  of  resoun  ; 
the  menynge  and  sentence  of  this  is,  that  the  re- 
soun of  a  man  ne  consentith  not  to  thilke  sodein 
ire,  and  thanne  is  it  veniaL  Another  ire  is  ful 
wicked,  that  cometh  of  felony  of  herte,  avysed  and 
cast  biforn,  with  wickid  wille  to  do  vengeaunce, 
and  therto  his  resoun  consentith  ;  and  sothely  this 
is  deedly  synne.  This  ire  is  so  displesaunt  to 
God,  that  it  troublith  his  hous,  and  chaceth  the 
holy  Gost  out  of  mannes  soule,  and  wastith  and 
destroyeth  the  liknes  of  God,  that  is  to  saye,  the 
vertu  that  is  in  mannes  soule,  and  put  in  him  the 
likenes  of  the  devel,  and  bynymeth  the  man  fro 
God  that  is  his  rightful  lord.  This  ire  is  a  ful 
greet  plesaunce  to  the  devel,  for  it  is  the  devcles 
fornays  that  is  cschaufid  with  the  fuyr  of  helle. 
For  certes  right  so  as  fuyr  is  more  mighty  to  des- 
troye  erthely  thinges,  than  eny  other  element, 
right  so  ire  is  mighty  to  destroye  alle  spirituel 
thinges.  Loke  how  that  fuyr  of  smale  gledis,  that 
ben  almost  dede  under  asshen,  wolden  quiken 
agayn  whan  thay  ben  touched  unth  hrhnstoon, 
right  so  ire  tcille  evermore  qivylcen  ayeine  whan  it  is 
touched  by  pride  that  is  covered  in  mannes  herte. 
For  certes  fuyr  may  nought  come  out  of  no  thing, 


310  THE   CANTERBURiT   TALES. 

hnt-if  it  ivere  first  in  the  same  tldnge  naturelly ; 
as  fuyr  is  drawe  out  of  flintes  with  steel.  Right 
so  as  pride  is  often  tyme  mater  of  ire,  right  so  is 
rancour  noricc  and  keper  of  ire.  Ther  is  a  maner 
tree,  as  saith  seint  Isydre,  that  whan  men  maken 
fuyr  of  thilke  tree,  and  cover  the  colis  with  asshen, 
sothly  the  fuyr  of  it  wol  lasten  al  a  yer  or  more ; 
and  right  so  fareth  it  of  rancour,  whan  it  oones  is 
concey\'ed  in  the  hertis  of  som  men,  certein  it  wol 
lasten  from  oon  Estren  day  imtil  another  Ester 
day,  and  more.  But  certis  thilke  man  is  ful 
fer  fro  the  mercy  of  God  al  thilke  while. 

In  this  forsaide  develes  fornays  ther  forgen  thre 
schrewes  ;  pride,  that  ay  blowith  and  encresith  the 
fuyr  by  chidyng  and  wickid  wordis ;  thanne  stent 
envye,  and  holdeth  the  hoote  iron  upon  the  hert  of 
man,  with  a  paire  of  longe  tonges  of  rancour  ;  and 
thanne  stont  the  sinne  of  contumelie  or  strif  and 
cheste,  and  baterith  and  forgeth  by  vileyns  repre- 
vynges.  Certes  this  cursed  synne  annoyeth  bothe 
to  the  man  himsilf,  and  eek  to  his  neighebor.  For 
sothely  almost  al  the  harm  that  eny  man  doth  to 
his  neighebour  cometh  thurgh  wraththe.  For 
certes,  outrageous  wraththe  doth  al  that  ever 
the  devyl  him  comaundeth  ;  for  he  ne  spareth 
neyther  for  our  Lord  Jhesu  Crist,  ne  his  swete 
moodir ;  and  in  his  outrageous  anger  and  ire,  alias  ! 
ful  many  oon  at  that  tyme  felith  in  his  herte  ful 
wikkedly,  bothe  of  Crist,  and  eek  of  alle  his 
halwes.  Is  nat  this  a  cursed  vice  ?  Yis,  certis. 
It  bynymeth  fro  man  his  witte  and  his  resoun,  and 
al  his  deboneire  lyf  spirituel,  that  scholde  kepen  his 
soule.     Certes  it  bynymeth  eek  Goddis  dewe  lord- 


THE   PERSONES   TALE.  311 

schipe  (and  that  is  mannes  soule)  and  the  love  of  his 
neighebor ;  hit  stryveth  eek  alday  agayns  trouthe ; 
it  reveth  him  eek  the  quiete  of  his  hert,  and  sub- 
vertith  his  herte  and  his  soule. 

Of  ire  Cometh  these  stynkynge  engendrures ; 
first,  hate,  that  is  old  wraththe  ;  discord,  thurgh 
which  a  man  forsakith  his  olde  frend  that  he  hath 
loved  ful  longe ;  and  thanne  cometh  werre,  and 
every  maner  of  wronge  that  man  doth  to  his 
neighebor  in  body  or  in  catel.  Of  this  cursed 
synne  of  ire  cometh  eek  manslaughter.  And 
understonde  wel  that  homicidie  (that  is,  man- 
slaughter) is  in  divers  wise.  Som  maner  of  homi- 
cidie is  spirituel,  and  sora  is  bodily.  Spirituel 
manslaughter  is  in  sixe  thinges.  First,  by  hate, 
as  saith  seint  Johan,  he  that  hateth  his  brother  is 
an  homicide.  Homicide  is  eek  by  bakbytyng,  of 
whiche  bakbiters  saith  Salamon,  that  thay  have 
twaye  swerdes  with  whiche  thay  slen  here  neighe- 
bors ;  for  sothely  as  wikke  is  to  bynyme  his  good 
name  as  his  lif.  Homicidy  is  eek  in  yevyng  of 
wikkid  counseil  by  fraude,  as  for  to  yeve  counseil 
to  areysc  wicked  and  wrongful  eustumes  and 
taliages  ;  of  whiche  saith  Salomon,  a  leoun  roryng 
and  here  hungry  ben  like  to  the  cruel  lordschipes, 
in  withholdyng  or  abrigging  of  the  schipe  or  the 
hyre  or  the  wages  of  servauntes,  or  ellis  in  usurc. 
Of  in  withdrawyng  of  almes  of  pore  folk.  For 
whiche  the  wise  man  saith,  feedith  him  that 
almost  dyeth  for  hunger,  for  sothely  but-if  thou 
feede  him  thou  slest  him.  And  eek  these  ben 
dedly  synnes.  Bodily  manslaughter  is,  whan  thou 
sleest  him  with  thy  tongc  in  other  manere,  as  whan 


312  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

thou  comaundist  to  slcn  a  man,   or   elles  yivest 
counseil  to  slee  a  man.     Manslaughter  in  dede  is 
in  foure  maneres.     That  oon  is  by  lawe,  right  as  a 
justice  dampnith  liim  that  is  coupable  to  the  deth; 
but  let  the  justice  be  war  that  he  do  it  rightfully, 
and  that  he  do  it  nought  for  dclit  to  spille  blood, 
but  for  keping  of  rightwisnes.     Another  homicidy 
is  doon  for  necessite',  as  whan  a  man  sleth  another 
him  defendaunt,  and  that  he  no  may  noon  other 
wise  cschapc  fro  his  owen  deth ;  but  certeynly,  if 
he  may  escape  withoute  slaughter  of  his  adversarie, 
and  sleth  him,  he  doth  synne,  and  he  schal  here 
penaunce  as  for  dedly  synne.     Eek  if  a  man  by 
caas  or  adventure  schete  an  arwe  or  cast  a  stoon 
with  which  he  sleth  a  man,  he  is  an  homicide. 
Eke  if  a  womman  by  negligence  overlye  hir  child  in 
hir  sleping,  it  is  homicide  and  deedly  synne.    Eke 
whan  man  distourbith  concepcioun  of  a  child,  and 
makith  a  womman  outher  barej-n  by  drinke  of 
venemous  herbis,  thurgh  whiche  she  may  nought 
conceyve,  or  sleth  Idr  child  by  drynkes,  or  elles 
putteth  certeyn  material  thinges  in  Mr  seere  place 
to  slee  the  child,  or  elles  doth  unkyndely  synne, 
by  which  man,  or  womman,  schedith  here  nature  in 
nianere  or  in  place  ther  as  the  child  may  nought 
be  conceyved  ;  or  ellis  if  a  womman  have  con- 
ceyved,  and  hurt  hirself,  and  sleth  the  child,  yit  is 
it  homycidie.     What  say  we  eek  of  womraen  that 
mordren  here  children  for  drede  of  worldly  schame? 
Certes,  it  is  an  horrible  homicidy.     Eek  if  a  man 
approche  to  a  womman  by  desir  of  lecchery,  thurgh 
the  which  the  child  is  perischt ;    or  elles  smitith  a 
womman  wytyngly,  thurgh  which  sche  sleeth  hir 


THE   PERSONES   TALE.  313 

child  ;  alle  these  ben  homicides,  and  dedel/j  oriihlc 
synnes.  Yit  cometh  ther  of  ire  many  mo  synncs, 
as  wel  in  word,  as  in  werk  and  thought ;  as  ho 
that  arettith  upon  God,  and  blamith  God  of  thing 
of  which  he  is  himself  gulty,  or  dcspisith  God  and 
alle  his  halwes,  as  doon  these  cursed  hasardours  in 
diveris  cuntrees.  This  cursed  synne  don  thay, 
whan  thay  felen  in  here  herte  ful  wickidly  of  God 
and  his  halwes.  Also  whan  thay  treten  un- 
reverentlj  the  sacrament  of  the  auter ;  thilke  synne 
is  so  gret,  that  unnethe  may  it  be  relessed,  but 
that  the  mercy  of  God  passith  alle  his  werkcs,  and 
is  so  gret  and  so  benigne.  Thanne  cometh  of  ire 
attry  anger,  whan  a  man  is  scharply  amonested  in 
his  schrifte  to  forlete  synne,  thanne  wol  he  be  angry, 
and  answere  hokerly  and  angrily,  to  defenden  or  cx- 
cusen  his  synne  by  unstedefastnesse  of  his  fleisch  ; 
or  clles  he  dide  it  to  holde  companye  with  his 
felawes  ;  or  ellis  he  saith  the  fend  entised  him  ;  or 
elles  he  dide  it  for  his  youthe  ;  or  ellis  his  eom- 
plexioun  is  so  corrageous  that  he  may  not  forbere  ; 
or  ellis  it  is  destcn}-,  (ts  he  seith,  urdo  a  certeine 
age;  or  clles  he  seith  it  cometh  him  of  gcntilesce 
of  his  auncetrie,  and  semblable  thinges.  Alle  these 
manor  of  folk  so  wrappen  hem  in  here  synnes,  that 
thay  wol  nought  deliver  hemsolf.  For  sothely,  no 
wight  that  cxcuseth  him  wilfully  of  his  synne,  may 
nought  be  delivered  of  his  sj-nne,  til  that  he  mekely 
biknoweth  his  synne.  After  this  thanne  commeth 
swereinge,  that  is  expres  agayns  the  comaunde- 
mcntz  of  God  ;  and  this  bifallith  often  of  angir  and 
of  ire.  God  saith,  thou  schalt  not  take  the  name 
of  thy  Lord  God  in  vayn  or  in  ydil.     Also,  oure 


314  THE   CANTERBUllY   TALES. 

Lord  Jhesu  Crist  saith  by  the  word  of  seint  MatheW, 
ne  schal  ye  not  swere  in  alle  manere,  neither  by 
heven,  for  it  is  Goddes  trone,  ne  by  the  eorthe,  for 
it  is  the  benche  of  his  feet,  ne  by  Jerusalem,  for  it 
is  the  cite  of  a  gret  king,  ne  by  thin  heed,  for  thou 
may  nought  make  an  her  whit  ne  blak ;  but 
sayeth,  by  youre  word,  ye,  ye,  and  nay,  nay ;  and 
what  it  is  more,  it  is  of  evel.  Thus  saith  Jhesu 
Crist.  For  Cristcs  sake,  swereth  not  so  synfully, 
in  dismembring  of  Crist,  by  soule,  herte,  boones, 
and  body  ;  for  certes  it  semeth,  that  ye  thenke  that 
cursed  Jewes  ne  dismembrit  nought  ynough  the 
precious  persone  of  Crist,  but  ye  dismembre  him 
more.  And  if  so  be  that  the  lawe  compelle  yow 
to  swere,  thanne  reule  yow  after  the  lawe  of  God 
in  youre  swering,  as  saiith  Jeremie,  c".  iiij*".  Thou 
schalt  kepo  thre  condiciouns,  thou  schalt  swere  in 
trouthe,  in  doom,  and  in  rightwisnes.  This  is  to 
sayn,  thou  schalt  swere  soth  ;  for  every  lesyng  is 
agayns  Crist ;  for  Crist  is  verray  trouthe.  And 
think  wel  this,  that  every  gret  swerer,  not  com- 
pellid  lawfully  to  swere,  the  woitnde  schal  not 
depart  fro  his  hous,  whil  he  useth  such  unleful 
sweringe.  Thou  schalt  eek  swere  in  doom,  whan 
thou  art  constreigned  by  thy  domesman  to  witnesse 
the  trouthe.  Eek  thou  schalt  not  swere  for  envye, 
ne  for  favour,  ne  for  mecde,  but  onely  for  right- 
Avisnesse,  and  for  declaring  of  it  to  the  worschip  of 
God,  and  helping  of  thin  evencristen.  And  ther- 
fore  every  man  that  takith  Goddes  name  in  ydil, 
or  falsly  swerith  with  his  mouth,  or  elles  takith  on 
him  the  name  of  Crist,  and  callith  himself  a  eris- 
ten  man,  and  lyveth  agayn  Cristes  lyvyng  and  his 


THE   PERSONES   TALE.  315 

teching-,  alle  thay  take  Goddes  name  in  ydel.  Loke 
eek  what  saith  soint  Peter,  Act.  c".  iilf'^.  Non  est 
aliud  nomeii  sub  ccelo,  etc. ;  There  is  noon  other 
name,  saith  seint  Peter,  under  heven  ne  yeven  to 
noon  men,  in  which  thay  mowe  be  saved,  that  is 
to  sayn,  but  in  the  name  of  Jhesu  Crist.  Tak  heede 
eek  how  precious  is  the  name  of  Crist,  as  saith 
seint  Poule,  ad  PJulippenses  ij".  In  nomine  Jhesu, 
etc.  that  in  the  name  of  Jhesu  every  kne  of 
hevenly  creatures,  or  erthely,  or  of  helle,  schulde 
bowe ;  for  it  is  so  hike  and  so  luorscliipfulle,  that  the 
cursed  fende  in  helle  scholde  tremble  to  heeren  it 
nempned.  Thanne  semeth  it,  that  men  that  sweren 
so  horribly  by  his  blessed  name,  that  thay  despise 
it  more  boZdely  than  dede  the  cursed  Jewes,  or  elles 
the  devel,  that  tremblith  whan  he  heerith  his  name. 

Now  certis,  sith  that  swering  (but  if  it  be  law- 
fully doon)  is  so  heihly  defendid,  moehe  wors  is 
forswering  falsely,  and  yit  needeles. 

What  say  we  eek  of  hem  that  deliten  hem  in 
swering,  and  holden  it  a  gentery  or  manly  dede 
to  swere  grete  othis  ?  And  what  of  hem  that  of 
verray  usage  ne  cessen  nought  to  swere  grete  othis, 
al  be  the  cause  not  worth  a  strawe  ?  Certes  this  is 
horrible  synne.  Sweryng  sodeynly  without  avyse- 
ment  is  eek  a  gret  synne.  But  let  us  now  go  to 
thilke  horrible  sweryng  of  adjuracioun  and  conju- 
raciouns,  as  doon  these  false  enchauntours  or 
nigromanciens  in  bacines  ful  of  water,  or  in  a 
bright  swerd,  in  a  cercle,  or  in  a  fuyr,  or  in  the 
schidder  bon  of  a  scheep ;  I  can  not  sayn,  but  that 
thay  doon  cursedly  and  dampnably  agains  Christ, 
and  the  faith  of  holy  chirche. 


316  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

What  saye  we  of  hem  that  bilieven  on  divinailes, 
as  by  flight  or  by  nois  of  briddes  or  of  bestes,  or 
by  sort,  by  geomancie,  by  dremes,  by  chirkyng  of 
dores  or  crakking  of  howses,  by  gnawyng  of  rattis, 
and  such  maner  wreeehidnes  ?  Certis,  al  this 
thing  is  defended  by  God  and  holy  chirche,  for 
whiche  thay  ben  accursed,  til  thay  come  to  amende- 
ment,  that  on  such  filthe  bisetten  here  bileeve. 
Charmes  for  woundes  or  malady  of  men  or  of 
bestes,  if  thay  take  eny  effect,  it  may  be  parad- 
venture  that  God  suffreth  hit,  for  folk  schulde  yeve 
the  more  faith  and  reverence  to  his  name. 

Now  wol  I  speke  of  Icsynge,  Avhiche  generally 
is  fals  signifiaunce  of  word,  in  entent  to  desceyven 
his  evencristen.  Som  Icsyng  is,  of  whiche  ther 
coraeth  noon  avauntage  to  noon  wight ;  and  som 
lesyng  torneth  to  the  ease  or  profit  of  som  man, 
and  to  damage  of  another  man.  Another  lesyng 
is,  for  to  save  his  lif  or  his  catel.  Another  lesyng 
Cometh  of  delit  for  to  lye,  in  which  delit  thay  woUe 
forge  a  long  tale,  and  paynte  it  with  alle  circum- 
staunces,  whcr  as  the  ground  of  the  tale  is  fals. 
Som  lesyng  comcth,  for  he  wolde  susteyne  his 
word.  Som  lesyng  cometh  of  rechelesnes  withoute 
avisement,  and  semblable  thinges. 

Let  us  now  touche  the  vice  of  flaterie,  which 
cometh  not  gladly,  but  for  drede,  or  for  coveitise. 
Flaterie  is  generally  wrongful  prej'sing.  Flaterers 
ben  the  develes  norices,  that  norisshen  his  children 
with  mylk  of  losingerie.  For  sothe  Salamon  saith, 
that  flaterie  is  worse  than  detraccioun ;  for  som 
tyme  detraccioun  makith  an  hawtoyn  man  be  the 
more  humble,  for  he  dredith  detraccioun,  but  certes 
flaterie  makith  a  man  to  enhaunscn  his  hert  and  his 


THE   PERSONES   TALE.  317 

countenaunce.  Flaterers  ben  the  develes  en- 
chauntours,  for  thaj-  make  man  to  wene  of  himself 
that  he  is  like  to  that  he  is  nought  like.  Thay  ben 
like  Judas,  that  bitraised  God;  and  thise  flaterers 
bitrayen  a  man  to  selle  liim  to  his  enemj^  that  is 
the  devel.  Flaterers  ben  the  develes  chapeleyns, 
that  singen  ay  Placebo.  I  rekene  flaterie  in  the 
vices  of  ire ;  for  ofte  tyme  if  oon  man  be  wroth 
with  another,  thanne  wol  he  flatere  som  man  to 
mayntene  him  in  his  querel. 

Speke  we  now  of  such  cursyng  as  cometh  of 
irons  hert.  Malisoun  generally  may  be  said  every 
maner  power  of  harm  ;  such  cursyng  bireveth  man 
fro  the  regno  of  God,  as  saith  seint  Poule.  And 
ofte  tyme  such  cursyng  wrongfully  retourneth 
agayn  to  hym  that  curseth,  as  a  birde  retourneth 
agayn  to  his  owne  nest.  And  over  alle  thingcs 
men  oughten  cschewe  to  cursen  here  oughno 
children,  and  yive  to  the  devel  here  engendrure, 
as  ferforth  as  in  hem  is ;  eertis  it  is  gret  peril  and 
gret  synne. 

Let  us  thanne  speke  of  chydynge  and  reproche, 
whiche  that  ben  ful  grete  woundes  in  mannes  hert, 
for  they  unsiven  the  semes  of  frendscMpe  in  mannes 
herte;  for  eertis,  unnethe  may  a  man  plainly  ben 
accordid  with  him  that  him  openly  re\-5'lcd,  re- 
proved, and  disclaundrid ;  this  is  a  ful  grisly  synne, 
as  Crist  saith  in  the  Gospel.  And  takith  keep 
now,  that  he  that  reprovoth  his  neighebor,  outher 
he  reproveth  him  by  som  harm  of  pcync,  that  he  hath 
on  his  body,  as  mesel,  crohed  harlotte;  or  bysomme  sinne 
that  he  doth.  Nowe  if  he  repreve  him  byharme  ofpeyne, 
thanne  tornith  the  reproef  to  Jhesu  Crist ;  for  peyne 


818  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

is  sent  by  the  rightwis  sonde  of  God,  and  by  his  suf- 
fraunce,  be  it  meselrie,  or  many  other  maladies ; 
and  if  he  repreve  him  uncharitably  of  sinne,  as 
thou  holour,  thou  dronkelcwe  harlot,  and  so  forth, 
thanne  aperteyneth  that  to  the  rcjoysing  of  the 
devel,  that  ever  hath  joye  that  men  doon  synne. 
And  certis,  chidyng  may  nought  come  but  out  of 
a  vileins  herte,  for  after  the  abundaunce  of  the 
herte  speketh  the  mouth  ful  ofte.  And  ye  schal 
understonde,  that  loke  by  any  way,  whan  any  man 
schal  chastise  another,  that  he  be  war  fro  chidyng 
or  repre^yng  ;  for  trewely,  but  he  be  war,  he  may 
ful  lightly  quiken  the  fuyr  of  anger  and  of  wrath  the, 
which  that  he  schulde  quenchen  ;  and  paraventure 
sleth,  that  he  mighte  chaste  with  benignite.  For, 
as  sayth  Salamon,  the  amiable  tonge  is  the  tree  of 
lif;  that  is  to  sayn,  of  life  espirituel.  And  sothely, 
a  dislave  tonge  sleth  the  spirit  of  him  that  repre- 
veth,  and  also  of  him  which  is  repreved.  Lo,  what 
saith  seint  Augustyn,  ther  is  no  thing  so  lik  the 
fendes  child,  as  he  that  ofte  chideth.  Seint  Poule 
seith  eek,  a  servaunt  of  God  bihoveth  nought  to 
chide.  And  though  that  chidyng  be  a  vileins  thing 
bitwixe  alle  manor  folk,yit  is  it  certes  more  uncove- 
nable  bitwix  a  man  and  his  wif,  for  ther  is  never 
rest.  And  therforo  saith  Salamon,  an  hous  that 
is  uncovered  in  rayn  and  droppyng,  and  a  chidyng 
wyf,  ben  like.  A  man,  that  is  in  a  dropping  hous 
in  many  partes,  though  he  eschewe  the  dropping 
in  oon  jjlace,  it  droppeth  on  him  in  another  place  ; 
so  farith  it  by  a  chydinge  Avyf,  but  sche  chide  him 
in  oon  place,  sche  wol  chide  him  in  another.  And 
therfore  better  is  a  morsel  of  bred  with  joye,  than 


THE    PERSONES   TALE.  319 

an  housful  of  delices  with  chyding,  seith  Salamon, 
Seint  Poul  saith,  o  ye  wommen,  be  ye  sugettis  to 
youre  housbondes  as  bihovith  in  God  ;  and  ye 
men,  loveth  youre  wyves.     Ad  Colocens.  iij". 

After-ward  speke  we  of  scornyng,  which  is  a 
wikked  thing,  and  sinful,  and  namely  whan  he 
scornith  a  man  for  his  goode  workes ;  for  certes, 
suche  scorners  faren  lik  the  foule  toode,  that  may 
nought  endure  the  soote  smel  of  the  vine  roote, 
whan  it  florischith.  These  scorners  ben  partyng 
felawes  with  the  devel,  for  thay  han  joye  whan 
the  devel  wynneth,  and  sorwe  whan  he  leseth. 
Thay  ben  adversaries  of  Jhesu  Crist,  for  thay 
haten  that  he  loveth,  that  is  to  saye,  savacioun  of 
soule. 

Speke  we  now  of  wikked  counseil ;  for  he  that 
wickid  counseil  yiveth  he  is  a  traytour,  for  he  de- 
cey\'eth  him  that  trusteth  in  him,  ut  Achitofel  ad 
Absoloneni.  But  natheles,  yet  is  his  wikkid  coun- 
seil first  ayens  himself.  For,  as  saith  the  wise 
man,  every  fils  lyvj'ng  hath  his  proprete  in  him- 
self, that  he  that  wil  annoye  another  man,  he 
annoyeth  first  himself.  And  men  schul  under- 
stonde,  that  men  schulde  nought  take  his  counseil 
offals  folk,  nc  of  angry  folk,  ne  of  grevousfolk,  ne  of 
folk  that  loven  specially  to  m.oche  her  oughne  profyt, 
ne  in  to  moche  worldly  folk,  namely,  in  counselyng 
of  mannes  soule. 

Now  Cometh  the  synne  of  hem  that  sowen 
and  maken  discord  amonges  folk,  which  is  a 
synne  that  Crist  hateth  outrely ;  and  no  Avonder 
is,  for  God  diede  for  to  make  concord.  And  more 
sohame  do  thay  to  Crist,  than  dede  thay  that  him 


320  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

crueifiede.  For  God  loveth  bettre,  that  frend- 
sehipe  be  amonges  folk,  thanne  he  dide  his  owne 
body,  which  that  he  yaf  for  unite.  Therfore  ben 
thay  likned  to  the  develes,  that  ever  ben  aboute  to 
make  discord. 

Now  coinith  the  sinne  of  double  tonge,  suche 
as  speken  faire  biforn  folk,  and  wikkedly  bi- 
hynde ;  or  elles  thay  make  semblaunt  as  though 
thay  speke  of  good  cntencioun,  or  cllis  in  game 
and  play,  and  yit  thay  speke  in  wildced  entent. 

Now  Cometh  the  wreying  of  counseil,  thurgh 
which  a  man  is  cZefamcd ;  certes  unnethe  may  he 
restore  that  damage.     Now  cometh  manace,  that 
is  an  open  foly ;    for  he  that  ofte  manaceth,  he 
threttith  more   than   lie  may  parfourme  ful  ofte 
tyme.     Now  cometh  idek  Avordes,  that  is  withoute 
profyt  of  him  that  spekith  tho  wordes,  and  cek  of 
him  that  herkeneth  tho  wordes  ;    or  elles  ydele 
wordes  ben  tho  that  ben  needeles,  or  withouten 
entent  of  naturel  profyt.     And  al  be  it  that  ydile 
wordes  ben  som  tyme  venial  synne,  yit  schulde 
men   doute   hem  for    we  sehuln  yive  rekenynge 
of  hem  bifore  God.     Now  comith  jangeling,  that 
may  nought  be  withoute  synne;    and,   as  saith 
Salamon  it  is  a  signe  of  apert  folie.     And  therfore 
a  philosophre  saide,  whan  men  askid  him  how  men 
schulde  plese   the  poeple,   and  he  answerde,   do 
many   goode    werkes,    and    spek   fewe    jangcles. 
After  this  cometh  the  synne  of  japers,  that  ben 
the  develes  apes,  for  thay  maken  folk  to  laughen  at 
here  japes  or  japerie,  as  folk  doon  at  the  gaudes  of 
an  ape ;  suche  japes  defendith  seint  Poule.     Loke 
how  that  vertuous  and  holy  wordes  conforten  hem 


THE   PERSONES   TALE.  321 

that  travailen  in  the  service  of  Crist,  right  so 
conforten  the  vilens  wordes  and  knakkis  and 
japeries  hem  that  travajle  in  the  service  of  the 
devyl.  These  ben  the  synnes  that  cometh  of  ire, 
and  of  other  synnes  many  mo. 

EEMEDITJU;  COKXEA  lEAM. 

Remedye  agayns  ire,  is  a  vertue  that  men  clepe 
mansuetude,  that  is  deboneirte ;  and  cek  another 
vertue  that  men  clepe  pacienee  or  sufferaunce. 
Debonairete  withdrawith  and  restreigneth  the 
stiringes  and  the  moevynges  of  mannys  corrage 
in  his  herte,  in  such  manere,  that  thai  ne  sldppe 
not  out  by  anger  no  by  ire.  Suffraunce  suf- 
frith  swetely  al  the  annoyaunce  and  the  wronges 
that  men  doon  to  man  out-ward.  Seint  Jerom 
saith  thus  of  debonairte,  that  it  do  non  harm  to 
no  wight,  ne  saith ;  ne  for  noon  harm  that  men 
doon  ne  sayn,  he  ne  eschaufith  nought  agayns 
his  resoun.  This  vertu  cometh  som  tyme  of  nature  ; 
for,  as  saith  the  philosopher,  man  is  a  quik  thing 
by  nature,  debonaire  and  tretable  bi/  goodnesse ; 
but  whan  debonairete  is  enformed  of  grace,  than  is 
it  the  more  worth. 

Pacienee  that  is  another  remedie  agains  ire,  is  a 
vertu  that  suffreth  swetely  every  mannes  goodnes, 
and  is  not  wroth  for  noon  harm  that  is  doon  to 
him.  The  philosopher  saith,  that  pacienee  is 
thilke  vertue  that  suffrith  deboneirly  alle  the 
outrages  of  adversitd  and  every  wickid  word. 
This  vertue  makith  a  man  lik  to  God,  and  makith 
him  Goddes  oughnc  dere  child,  as  saith  Crist. 
This  vertu  destroyeth  thin  enemy.      And  therforo 

VOL.  III.  y 


322  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

saith  the  wise  man,  if  thou  wolt  venquisch  thin 
enemy  lerne  to  suffre.  And  thou  schalt  under- 
stonde,that  man  suffrith  foure  maners  of  grevaunces 
in  out-ward  thinges,  agains  whiche  he  moot  have 
foure  maners  of  pacience.  The  firste  grevaunce  is  of 
wicked  wordes.  Thilkc  suffred  Jhesu  Crist,  withoute 
grucching,  ful  paciently,  whan  the  Jewes  despised 
him  and  reproved  him  ful  ofte.  Suffre  thou 
therfore  paciently,  for  the  wise  man  saith,  if  thou 
strive  with  a  fool,  though  the  fool  be  wroth, 
or  though  he  laughhe,  algate  thou  schalt  have  no 
rest.  That  other  grevaunce  out-ward  is  to  have 
damage  of  thi  catel.  Ther  agayn  suffred  Crist  ful 
paciently,  whan  he  was  despoylid  of  al  that  he  had 
in  his  lif,  and  that  nas  but  his  clothis.  The  tlu'idde 
grevaunce  is  a  man  to  have  harm  in  his  body. 
That  suffrede  Crist  ful  paciently  in  al  his  passioun. 
The  ferthe  grevaunce  is  in  outrageous  labour 
in  werkis ;  whcrfore  I  say,  that  folk  that  makcn 
here  servauntz  to  travaile  to  grevously,  or  out  of 
tyme,  as  on  haly  dayes,  sothely  thay  doon  greet 
synne.  Here  against  suffred^  Crist  ful  paciently, 
and  taughte  us  pacience,  Avhan  he  bar  upon  his 
blisful  schulder  the  croys  upon  which  he  schulde 
suffre  dcspitous  deth.  Here  may  men  lerne  to  bo 
pacient ;  for  certes,  nought  oonly  cristen  men  ben 
pacient  for  the  love  of  Jhesu  Crist,  and  for  guer- 
doun  of  the  blisful  life  that  is  perdurable,  but  tho 
olde  paynymes,  that  never  were  cristen,  comaund- 
edin  and  useden  the  vertu  of  pacience.  A 
philosopher  upon  a  tyme,  that  wolde  have  bete  his 
disciple  for  his  grete  trespas,  for  wliich  he  was 
gretly  amoeved,  and  brought  a  ycrde  to  scourge 


THE   PERSONES   TALE.  323 

the  child,  and  whan  the  child  saugh  the  yerde,  he 
sayde  to  his  maister,  '  what  thenke  ye  to  do  ? ' 
'  I  wolde  bete  the/  quod  the  maister,  '  for  thi 
correccioun.'  '  Forsothe,'  quod  the  child, '  ye  oughte 
first  correcte  youresilf,  that  han  lest  al  youre 
pacience  for  the  gilt  of  a  child.'  '  Forsothe,'  quod 
the  maister  al  wepyng,  '  thou  saist  soth ;  have 
thou  the  yerde,  my  deere  sone,  and  correcte  me 
for  myn  impacience.'  Of  pacience  cometh  obe- 
dience, thurgh  which  a  man  is  obedient  to  Crist, 
and  to  alle  hem  to  which  him  oughte  to  be  obe- 
dient in  Crist.  And  understonde  wel,  that  obedience 
is  parfyt,  whan  a  man  doth  gladly  and  hastily  with 
good  herte  outroly  al  that  he  scholde  do.  Obe- 
dience is  generally  to  parformo  the  doctrine  of  God, 
and  of  his  soveraignes,  to  whiche  him  oughte  to  ben 
obeissant  in  alle  rightwisnes. 

DE  ACCIDIA. 

After  the  synne  of  en\-ye  and  ire,  now  wol  I 
speke  of  accidie ;  for  envye  blendith  the  hert  of  a 
man,  and  ire  troublith  a  man,  and  accidie  makith 
him  hevy,  thoughtful,  and  wrawe.  Envye  and  ire 
maken  bitternes  in  herte,  which  bitternesse  is  mooder 
of  accidie,  and  bynimith  the  love  of  alle  goodnes  ; 
thanne  is  accidie  the  anguische  of  a  trouble  hert. 
And  scint  Augustyn  saith,  it  is  anoye,  it  is  anoye  of 
goodenesse  and  anoye  ofharme.  Certes  this  is  a  damp- 
nable  synne,  for  it  doth  wrong  to  Jhesu  Crist,  in 
as  mocht  as  it  bynymeth  the  service  that  we  oughte 
to  do  to  Crist  with  alio  diligence,  as  saith  Salo- 
mon ;  but  accidie  doth  noon  such  diligence.  He 
doth  alle  thing  with  anoy,  and  with  lyraweness, 


324  THE   CANTERBUllY   TALES. 

slaknes,  and  cxcusacioun,  and  with  j-delncs  and 
unlust;  for  which  the  book  saith,  accursed  be  he 
that  dotli  the  service  of  God  necligently.  Than 
is  accidie  enemy  to  every  astaat  of  man.  For 
certes  thestate  of  man  is  in  thre  maners ;  eythere 
it  is  the  state  of  innocence,  as  was  thastate  of 
Adam,  biforn  that  he  fel  into  synne,  in  which 
estate  he  is  holden  to  Avorche,  as  in  herying 
and  honouryng  of  God.  Another  astat  is  thestate 
of  sinful  man  ;  in  which  estate  men  ben  holden  to 
labore  in  praying  to  God  for  amendement  of  her 
synnes,  and  that  he  wolde  graunte  hem  to  rise  out 
of  here  synnes.  Another  estaat  is  thestate  of  grace, 
in  which  he  is  holdc  to  werkis  of  penitence ;  and 
certes,  to  alle  these  thinges  is  accidie  enemye  and 
contrarie,  for  it  loveth  no  busynes  at  al.  Now 
certis,  this  foule  synne  accidie  is  eek  a  ful  gret 
enemy  to  the  liflode  of  the  body ;  for  it  hath  no 
purveaunce  ayens  temporal  necessite,  for  it  for- 
slowthith,  and  forsluggith,  and  destroyeth  alle 
goodes  temporels  by  rechelesnes. 

The  ferthe  thing  is  that  accidie  is  like  hem 
that  ben  in  the  peyne  of  helle,  bycause  of  her 
slouthe  and  of  her  hevynes  ;  for  thay  that  ben 
dampned,  ben  so  bounde,  that  thay  maye  nought 
wel  do  ne  wel  thenke.  Of  accidie  cometh  first, 
that  a  man  is  annoyed  and  encombrid  for  to  do 
any  goodnes  and  makith  that  God  hath  abhomi- 
nacioun  of  such  accidie,  as  saith  seint  Johan. 

Now  Cometh  slouthe,  that  wol  suffre  noon 
hardnes  ne  no  penaunce  ;  for  sothely,  slouthe  is 
so  tcndre  and  so  delicat,  as  saith  Salomon,  that  he 
Avol  suffre  noon  hardnes  ne  penaunce,  and  ther- 


THE   PERSONES   TALE.  325 

fore  he  schendeth  al  that  he  doth,  Agayns  this 
roten  hertid  synne  of  accidie  and  of  slouthc 
schulden  men  exercise  hemself  to  do  goodc 
werkes,  and  manly  and  vertuously  cacchin  eor- 
rage  wel  to  doo,  thinking  that  oure  Lord  Jhesu 
Crist  quiteth  every  good  dede,  be  it  never  so 
lyte.  Usage  of  labour  is  a  ful  greet  thing  ;  for  it 
makith,  as  saith  scint  Bernard,  the  laborer  to 
have  stronge  armes  and  harde  synewes ;  and 
slouthe  maketh  hem  feble  and  tendre.  Thanne 
Cometh  drede  to  bygynne  to  werke  any  goode 
deedes ;  for  certes,  who  that  is  enclined  to  don 
synne,  him  thinkith  it  is  so  gret  emprise  for  to 
undertake  to  doon  werkes  of  goodnes,  and  castith 
in  his  herte  that  the  circumstaunces  of  goodnesse  ben 
so  grevous  and  so  chargeant  for  to  suffice,  that  lie 
dar  not  undertahe  to  do  tverkes  of  goodnesse,  as 
saith  seint  Gregory. 

Now  Cometh  wanhope,  that  is,  despair  of  the 
mercy  of  God,  that  cometh  som  tyme  of  to  mocha 
outrageous  sorwe,  and  som  tyme  of  to  moche 
drede,  ymagynynge  that  he  hath  do  so  moche 
synne  that  it  wil  not  availe  him,  though  he 
wolde  repent  him,  and  forsake  synne ;  thurgh 
which  despeir  or  drede,  he  abandounith  al  his 
harta  to  alle  manor  synne,  as  saith  seint  Augustin. 
Whiche  dampnable  s3-nne,  if  that  it  continue 
unto  his  lyves  ende,  it  is  clepped  the  synnyng  of 
the  holy  gost.  This  horrible  synne  is  so  perilous, 
that  he  that  is  despaired,  ther  is  no  felony e,  ne 
no  synne,  that  he  doutith  for  to  do,  as  schcwade 
wel  by  Judas.  Certes,  above  alio  synncs  than  is 
this  synne  most  displesant    to   Crist,    and    most 


326  TIIK   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

adversarie.  Sothely,  he  that  despeirith  him,  is 
like  the  coward  campioun  recreaunt,  that  seith 
recreaunt  withoute  neede.  Alias  !  alias  !  needeles 
is  he  recreaunt,  and  needeles  despaired.  Certes, 
the  mercy  of  God  is  ever  redy  to  the  penitent, 
and  is  above  alle  his  werkes.  Alias  !  can  not  a 
man  bythenk  him  on  the  Gospel  of  seint  Luk, 
wher  as  Crist  saith,  that  as  wel  schal  ther  bo  joye 
in  heven  upon  a  synful  man  that  doth  penitence, 
as  upon  nynety  and  nyne  that  ben  rightful  men 
that  needen  no  penitence?  Loke  forther  in  the 
same  Gospel,  the  joye  and  the  fest  of  the  goode 
man  that  hadde  lost  his  sone,  Avhan  the  sone  with 
repentaunce  was  torned  to  his  fader.  Can  not 
thay  remembre  eek  that  as  saith  seint  Luk,  xxiij", 
how  that  the  thef  that  was  hangid  biside  Jhesu 
Criste,  sayde,  Lord,  remembre  of  me,  whan 
thou  comest  into  thy  regno?  For  sothe  saith 
Crist,  to-day  thou  sehalt  be  with  me  in  paradis. 
Certis,  ther  is  noon  so  horrible  synne  of  man, 
that  it  ne  may  in  his  lif  be  destroyed  with  peni- 
tence, thorugh  vertue  of  the  passioun  of  the  deth 
of  Crist.  Alias !  what  needith  it  man  thanne  to 
be  despaired,  sith  that  his  mercy  is  so  redy  and 
large  ?  Aske  and  have.  Thanne  cometh  somp- 
nolence,  that  is,  sluggy  slumbring,  which  makith 
a  man  ben  hevy  and  dul  in  body  and  in  soule,  and 
this  synne  cometh  of  slouthe ;  and  certes,  tho 
tyme  that  by  Avay  of  resoun  man  schulde  nought 
slepe,  that  is  by  the  morwo,  but  if  ther  were 
cause  resonable.  For  sothely  the  morwe  tyde  is 
most  convenable  to  a  man  to  say  his  prayers,  and 
for  to  thenk  upon  his  God,  and  to  honoure  God, 
and  to  yerc  almes  to  the  pore  that  first  cometh  in 


THE   PERSONES   TALE.  327 

the  name  of  Crist.  Lo  what  saith  Salamon ;  who-so 
wol  by  the  morwe  arise  andseeke  me,  schal  fynde 
me.  Than  cometh  negligence  that  rekkith  of 
nothing.  And  how  that  ignoraunce  be  moder  of 
alle  harm,  certis,  necgligence  is  the  norice.  Neeli- 
gence  doth  no  force,  whan  he  schal  doon  a  thing, 
whethir  he  doo  it  wel  or  baddely. 

Of  the  remedy  of  these  tuo  synnos,  as  saith  the 
wise  man,  that  he  that  dredith  God,  he  sparith 
nought  to  do  that  him  oughte  to  don  ;  and  he  that 
loveth  God,  wol  do  diligence  to  plese  God  by  his 
werkis  and  abounde  himself,  with  alle  his  might, 
wel  for  to  doon.  Thanne  cometh  ydelncs,  that  is 
the  yate  of  alle  harmes.  An  ydil  man  is  like  an 
hous  that  hath  noone  walles ;  the  dcveles  may 
entre  on  everj^  syde  or  schete  at  him  at  discovert 
by  temptacioims  on  every  syde.  This  ydelnes  is 
the  thurrok  of  alle  wickid  vileyns  thoughtes,  and 
of  alle  jangles,  tryfles,  and  of  alle  ordure.  Certes 
the  heven  is  yeven  to  hem  that  wol  laboure  and 
nought  to  ydil  folk.  Eke  David  saith,  that  thay 
ne  ben  not  in  the  labour  of  men,  ne  thay  schul 
not  be  w/iiped  with  men,  that  is  to  sain,  in  purga- 
torie.  Certis  thanne  semeth  it  that  thay  schal  be 
tormentid  with  the  devel  in  helle,  but-if  thay  don 
penitence. 

Thanne  comith  the  synne  that  men  clepc  tar- 
ditas,  as  whan  a  man  is  so  latrede  or  tarying  er 
he  wil  torne  to  God  ;  and  certis,  that  is  a  gret 
foly.  He  is  like  him  that  fallith  into  the  diche, 
and  wol  not  arise.  And  this  vice  cometh  of  a 
fals  hope,  that  he  thinkith  he  schal  lyve  longe ; 
but  that  hope  fayleth  ful  ofte. 

Thanne  comith  laches,  that  is.  he  that  w^hen  he 


328  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

bigynneth  any  good  work,  anoon  he  wol  forlete  it 
and  stynte,  as  doon  thay  that  han  cny  wight  to 
govcrne,  and  ne  take  of  hem  no  more  keep  anoon 
as  thay  fynde  cny  contrarie  or  cny  anoy.  These 
ben  the  ncwe  schepherdes,  that  letcn  her  schep 
wityngely  go  renne  to  the  wolf,  that  is  in  the 
breres,  or  don  no  force  of  her  oughne  gover- 
naunce.  Of  this  cometh  povert  and  destruccioun, 
bothc  of  spiritucl  and  of  temporel  thinges. 
Thanne  cometh  a  maner  coldenesse,  that  frcseth 
al  the  hert  of  man.  Thanne  cometh  undevocioun 
thiirgh  which  a  man  is  so  bhmt,  and  as  saith 
scint  Bernard,  he  hath  such  a  langour  in  soule, 
that  he  may  neyther  rede  ne  synge  in  holy 
chirche,  ne  hcere  ne  thinke  on  dcvocioim  in  holy 
chircho,  ne  travayle  with  his  hondes  in  no  good 
werk,  that  nys  to  him  unsavory  and  al  apalled. 
Than  waxith  he  slowe  and  slombry,  and  soone 
wol  he  be  wroth,  and  soone  is  enclined  to  hate 
and  to  envye.  Thanne  comith  the  synne  of 
worldly  sorwc  such  as  is  clcpid  tristitia,  that  slcth 
man,  as  saith  seint  Poule.  For  certis  such  sorwe 
werkith  to  the  deth  of  the  soule  and  of  the  body 
also,  for  therof  cometh,  that  a  man  is  anoyed  of 
his  oughne  lif,  which  sorwe  schorteth  ful  ofte  the 
lif  of  a  man,  or  that  his  tyme  is  come  by  way  of 
kynde. 

EEMEDIirM  COXTEA  ACCIDIAM. 

Agains  this  horrible  synne  of  accidie,  and  the 
braunches  of  the  same,  ther  is  a  vertu  that  is 
cleped  fortitudo  or  strengthe,  that  is,  an  affeccioun 
thurgh  which  a  mandespiseth  alle  noyous  thinges. 


THE   PEIiSONES   TALE.  329 

This  vciiu  is  so  mighty  and  so  vigurous,  that  it 
dar  withstonde  mightily  the  devcl,  and  wisely 
kepe  himself  from  perils  that  ben  wicked,  and 
Avrastil  agains  the  assautcs  of  the  devel ;  for  it 
enhaunsith  and  enforcetli  the  soule,  right  as 
accidie  abateth  it  and  makith  it  feble ;  for  this 
fortitudo  may  endure  with  long  siifferauncc  the 
travailes  that  ben  convenables.  This  vertu  hath 
many  spices ;  the  first  is  cleped  magnanimitc, 
that  is  to  sayn  gret  corrage.  For  certis  thcr 
bihoveth  gret  corrage  agains  accidie,  lest  that  it 
ne  swolwe  not  the  soule  by  the  synne  of  sorwe, 
or  destroye  it  by  wanhope.  This  vertu  makith 
folk  undertake  harde  and  grevous  thinges  by  her 
owne  wille,  Avillfuly  and  resonably.  And  for  als 
moche  as  the  devel  fighteth  agaynst  a  man  more 
by  queyntise  and  by  sleight  than  by  strengthe, 
therfore  many  a  man  schal  ayeinstonde  him  by 
witte,  and  by  resoun,  and  by  discrecioun.  Thanne 
is  ther  the  vertu  of  faith,  and  hope  in  God  and  in 
his  seintes,  to  acheven  and  to  acomplice  the  goode 
wcrkes,  in  the  v\'hiche  he  purposith  fermely  to 
continue.  Thanne  cometh  seurte  or  sikernes,  and 
that  is  whan  a  man  doutith  no  travaile  in  tymo 
comyng  of  good  werk  that  a  man  hath  bygonne. 
Thanne  cometh  magnificence,  that  is  to  saye,  whan 
a  man  doth  and  parformith  grete  werkes  of  good- 
nesse  that  he  hath  bygonne,  and  that  is  thend  why 
that  men  schulden  do  goode  werkes.  For  in  the 
aecomplising  of  grete  goode  werkes  lith  the  grete 
guerdoun.  Thanne  is  thcr  constaunce,  that  is 
stablenes  of  corrage,  and  this  sehuldo  ben  in  hcrte 
by  stedefast  faith,  and  in  mouthe  and  in  berying. 


or; 


30  THE   CANTERBURY    TALES. 

and  in  cheer,  and  in  deede.  Eek  tbcr  ben  mo 
special  remedies  agayns  accidie,  in  dyvers  werkis, 
and  in  consideracioun  of  the  peyne  of  helle  and  of 
the  joye  of  heven,  and  in  the  trust  of  the  hyhe 
grace  of  the  holy  gost,  that  wil  yeve  him  might 
to  par  for  me  his  good  entent. 

DE  AVAEITIA. 

After  accidie  I  wil  speko  of  avarice,  and  of 
coveytise  ;  of  whiche  synnc  saith  seint  Poule,  that 
the  roote  of  alle  eveles  and  harmes  is  coveytise. 
For  sothely  whan  that  the  hert  of  man  is  confoundid 
in  itself  and  troublid,  and  that  the  soule  hath  lost 
the  comfort  of  God,  thanne  seekith  he  an  ydel 
solas  of  worldly  thinges.  Avarice,  after  the 
descripcioun  of  seint  Austyn,  is  a  likerousnes  in 
hert  to  have  erthely  thinges.  Some  other  folk 
sayn,  that  avarice  is  for  to  purchase  many  erthely 
thinges,  and  no  thing  yeve  to  hem  that  han  neede. 
And  understonde,  that  avarice  ne  stent  not  oonly 
in  lend  ne  in  catel,  but  som  tyme  in  science  and 
in  glorie,  and  overy  manor  q/ outrageous  thinges  is 
avarice  or  covetyse.  And  the  difference  bytwixe 
avarice  and  coveytise  is  this :  coveitise  is  for  to 
coveyte  suche  thinges  as  thou  hast  not;  and  avarice 
is  to  uithholde  and  Jcepe  suche  thinges  as  thou  hast, 
ivithouten  rihtfnl  nede.  Sotliehj,  this  avarice  is  a 
synne  that  is  ful  dampnable,  for  al  holy  writ 
curseth  it,  and  spekith  agayn  that  vice,  for  it  doth 
wrong  to  Jhesu  Crist ;  for  it  bireveth  him  the  love 
that  men  to  him  owen,  and  turnith  it  bakward 
agains  al  resoun,  and  makith  that  the  avarous 
man  hath  more  hope  in  his  catel  than  in  Jhesu 


THE   PERSONES   TALE.  331 

Crist,  and  doth  more  ohservannce  in  hepynge  of  his 
tresour,  than  he  doth  to  the  service  of  Jliesu  Crist. 
And  therfore  saith  seint  Poule,  ad  Ephes.  that  an 
averous  man  is  in  the  thraldom  of  ydolatrie. 

What  difference  is  thcr  bitwen  an  ydolaster  and 
an  avarous  man,  but  that  an  ydolaster  peradven^ 
ture  hadde  but  a  mawmet  or  tuo,  and  the  avaricious 
man  hath  monye  ?  for  certes,  every  floreine  in  his 
coffro  is  his  mawmet.  And  certes,  the  synne  of 
mawmetrie  is  the  firste  thing  that  God  dofendith 
in  the  ten  comaundementz,  as  berith  witnes  in 
Exod.  cap.  XX,  Thou  schalt  have  noone  false  goddes 
biforn  me,  ne  thou  schalt  make  to  the  no  grave 
thing.  Thus  is  he  an  averous  man,  that  loveth 
his  tresor  toforn  God,  and  an  ydolaster.  Thurgh 
ihis  cursed  synne  of  avarice  and  coveytise  eomen 
these  harde  lordschipes,  thurgh  Avhiehe  men  ben 
destreyned  by  talliages,  custumes,  and  cariages, 
more  than  here  duete  of  resoun  is  ;  and  elles  take 
thay  of  here  bondemen  amercimentes,  whiche 
mighte  more  resonably  ben  callid  extoreiouns  than 
mercymentis.  Of  Avhiche  mersyments  and  raun- 
sonyng  of  bondemen,  some  lordes  stywardes  seyn, 
that  it  is  rightful,  for  as  moche  as  a  eherl  hath  no 
temporel  thing  that  it  nys  his  lordes,  as  thay  saj^n. 
But  certes,  thise  lordeshipes  doon  wrong,  that 
bireven  here  bondemen  thinges  that  thay  never 
yave  hem.  Augustinus  de  Civitate  Dei,  libro  ix. 
Soth  is  that  the  condicioun  of  thraldom,  and  the 
firstc  cause  of  thraldom  hfor  sin.     Genes,  v. 

Thus  may  ye  seen,  that  the  gilt  deserved  thral- 
dom, but  not  nature.  Wherfore  these  lordes 
schulden  nought  to  moche  glorifie  in  here  lord- 


332  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

schipes,  sith  that  by  natiirel  condicioun  thay  ben 
nought  lorcles  over  here  thrallcs,  but  for  that  thral- 
dom com  first  by  the  desert  of  synne.  And  forther- 
over,ther  as  the  lawe  sayth,  that  temporel  goodes  of 
I'ondefolk  been  the  goodes  of  her  lordsc/ifpes ;  ye, 
that  is  to  understonde,  the  goodes  of  the  emperour, 
to  defende  hem  in  here  right,  but  not  to  robbe  hem 
ne  to  reve  liem.  And  therfore  seith  Seneca,  thi 
prudence  schulde  live  benignely  with  thi  thrallis. 
Thiike  that  thay  clepe  thralles,  ben  Goddes  poeple ; 
for  humble  folk  ben  Cristes  frendcs ;  thay  ben 
contubernially  with  the  Lord.  Thenk  eek  as  of 
such  seed  as  cherles  springen,  of  such  seed  springe 
lordes  ;  as  wel  may  the  cherl  be  saved  as  the  lord. 
The  same  deth  that  takith  the  eherl,  the  same  deth 
taketh  the  lord.  Wherefore  I  rede,  do  riht  so 
ivith  thi  cherle  as  thou  woldist  thi  lord  dide  with 
the,  if  thou  were  in  his  plyt.  Every  sinful  man 
is  a  cherl  as  to  synne.  I  rede  the  certes,  thou 
lord,  that  thou  werke  in  such  a  wise  with  thy 
cherles  that  thay  rather  love  the  than  drede  the. 
I  wot  wel,  ther  is  degre  above  degre,  as  resoun  is 
and  skil,  that  men  don  her  devoir  ther  as  it  is 
dewe  ;  but  certes,  extorciouns,  and  despit  of  oure 
undirlinges,  is  dampnable. 

And  forthermore  understonde  wel,  that  con- 
qucrours  or  tyrauntes  maken  ful  ofte  thralles  of 
hem  that  born  ben  of  als  royal  blood  as  ben  thay 
that  hem  conqueren.  This  name  of  cherldom  was 
never  erst  couth  til  Noe  sayde  that  his  sone 
Chanaan  schuldo  be  thral  of  his  bretheren  for  his 
synne.  What  say  we  thanne  of  hem  that  pylen 
and  doon   extorciouns  to  holy  chirche  ?     Certis, 


THE   PERSONES   TALE.  333 

the  swerdes  that  men  ycven  first  to  a  knight  whan 
he  is  newe  dubbyd,  signifieth  faith,  and  that  he 
schulde  defende  holy  chirche,  and  not  rohbe  hit  ne 
pijle  hit;  and  ivho  so  doth  ys  traiioitr  to  Crist.    And 
as  seith  seint  Austin,  thay  ben  the  develes  Avolves, 
that  stranglen  the  scheep  of  Jhesu  Crist,  and  doon 
wors  than  wolves ;  for  sothely,  whan  the  wulf  hath 
ful  his  wombe,  he  stintith  to  strangle  scheep  ;  but 
sothly,    the    pilours    and    the    destroyers    of   the 
goodes  of  holy  chirche  ne  doon  nought  so,  for 
thai  stinte  never  to  pile.    Now  as  I  have  sayd, 
sith  so  is,  that  synne  was  first  cause  of  thraldom, 
thanne  is  it  thus,  that  ilkc  tyme  that  al  this  world 
was  in  synne,  thanne  was  al  this  world  in  thraldom, 
and  in  subjeccioun ;  but  certis,  sith  the  tyme  of 
grace  com,  God  ordeynede  that  somme  folk  schulde 
be  more  heigh  in  estaate  and  in  dcgre,  and  somme 
folkes  more  lowe,   and   that   everich  schulde  be 
served  in  here  estate  and  in  degree.     And  ther- 
fore  in  somme  contrees  there  thay  ben  thralles, 
whan  thay  han  turned  hem  to  the  faith,  thay 
make  here  thralles  free  out  of  thraldom.     And 
therfor  certis  the  lord  oweth  to  his  man,  that  the 
man  owith  to  the  lord.     The  pope  callith  himself 
sorvaunt  of  servaunts  of  God.     But  for  as  moche 
as  thestaat  of  holy  chirche  ne  niighte  not  have  hen, 
ne  the  commune  profit  mighte  nought  have  ben 
kepte,  ne  pees  ne  reste  in  erthe,  but-if  God  had 
ordej-ned  som  man  of  heiher  degre,  and  some  men 
of  lower,  thcrfore  was  soveraignte  ordeyned   to 
kepe,  and  to  mayntene,  and  defende  her  under- 
lynges  or  her  subjectis  in  resoun,  as  ferforth  as  it 
lith  in  her  power,  and  not  to  destroye  ne  confounde 


334  THE   CANTERBUJIY   TALES. 

hem.  Wherfore  I  say,  that  thilke  lordes  that  be 
like  wolves,  that  devouren  the  possessioun  or  the 
catel  of  pore  folk  wrongfully  withoute  mercy  or 
mcsure,  thay  sehul  rcceyve  by  the  same  mesure 
that  thay  han  mesurcd  to  pover  folk  the  mercy  of 
Jhesu  Crist,  but-if  it  be  amendid.  Now  cometh 
deeeipt  bitwixe  marchaunt  and  marchaunt.  And 
thou  schalt  undcrstonde  that  marehaundiso  is  in 
tuo  maneres,  that  oon  is  bodily  and  that  other  is 
gostly ;  that  oon  is  honest  and  leful,  and  that 
other  is  dishonest  and  unleful.  Of  thilke  bodily 
marehaundiso  that  is  honest  and  leful  is  this,  that 
ther  as  God  hath  ordej^ned  that  a  regno  of  a 
cuntre  is  suffisaunt  to  himself,  thanne  is  it  honest 
and  leful  that  of  the  abundaunce  of  this  centre  the 
men  helpe  another  cuntre  that  is  more  needy  ;  and 
therfore  ther  mooto  be  marchauntz  to  bringe  fro 
that  oon  cuntre  to  that  other  her  marehaundise. 
That  other  marehaundise,  that  men  hauntyn  with 
fraude,  and  treccherie,  and  deeeipt,  with  lesynges 
and  fills  othis,  is  cursed  and  dampnable.  Espirituel 
marchaundize  is  proprely  symonie,  that  is  ententyf 
desire  to  beye  thing  espirituel,  that  is,  thing  that 
apperteyneth  to  the  seintuarie  of  God,  and  to  the 
cure  of  the  soule.  This  desire,  if  so  be  that  a 
man  do  his  diligence  to  parforme  it,  al  be  it  that 
his  desir  take  noon  effect,  yit  is  it  to  him  a  dedly 
synne  ;  and  if  he  be  ordrid,  he  is  irreguler.  Certis, 
symonye  is  elepid  of  Symon  Magus,  that  wolde 
han  bought  for  temporel  catel  the  yifte  that  God 
had  yiven  by  the  holy  gost  to  seint  Petir  and  to 
thapostlis  ;  and  therfor  understonde,  that  bothe  he 
that  sellith  and  he  that  bieth  thinges  espiritueles 


THE   PERSONES   TALE.  335 

ben  cleped  symonials,  be  it  by  catel,  be  it  by  procure- 
ment, or  by  fleisshly  prayere  of  his  frendes,  either  o/' 
tleisshly  frendes  or  spirituel  frendes;  fleisschly  in 
tuo  manercs,  as  by  kynrede  or  other  frendes. 
Sothely,  if  thay  praye  for  him  that  is  not  worthy 
and  able,  if  he  take  the  benefice  it  is  symonie  ; 
and  if  he  be  woilhy  and  able,  it  is  non.  That 
other  maner  is,  whan  man,  or  woman,  prayen  for 
folk  to  avaunce  hem  oonly  for  wikkid  fleisshly 
affeccioun  that  thay  have  unto  the  persone,  and 
that  is  foul  symonye.  But  certis,  in  services,  for 
ivhiche  men  yeven  thinges  espirituels  unto  her  ser- 
vauntes,  it  mote  hen  understonde,  that  the  service 
moot  be  honest,  and  ellis  not,  and  eek  that  it  bo 
vvithoute  bargaynynge,  and  that  the  persone  be 
able.  For,  as  saith  seint  Damase,  alle  the  synnes 
of  this  world,  at  the  reward  of  this  synne,  is  a 
thing  of  nought,  for  it  is  the  gretteste  synne  that 
may  be  after  the  synne  of  Lucifer  and  of  Ante- 
crist ;  for  by  this  synne  God  forlesith  the  chirche 
and  the  soule,  that  he  boughtc  with  his  precious 
blood,  by  hem  that  j^even  chirches  to  hem  that  ben 
not  digne,  for  thay  putten  in  theves,  that  stelen 
the  soules  of  Jhesu  Crist,  and  destroyen  his  patri- 
moigne.  By  suche  undigne  prestis  and  curates 
han  lowed  men  lasse  reverence  of  the  sacrament 
of  holy  chirche  ;  and  suche  yeveres  of  chirches 
putten  out  the  children  of  Crist,  and  putten  into 
the  chirche  the  develes  ough/ie  sones  ;  thay  sellen 
soules  (that  is  the  lambes  thei/  schulde  kope)  to  the 
wolf  that  stranglith  hem ;  and  therfore  schul  thay 
never  have  part  of  the  pasture  of  lambes,  that  is, 
the  blisse  of  heven. 


336  TKE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

Now  Cometh  hazardrie  with  his  appertenaimce, 
as  tables  and  rafles,  of  whiche  cometh  deeeipt,  fals 
othis,  chidyngcs,  and  alle  raveynes,  blasphemyng, 
and  reneying  of  God  and  hate  of  liis  neighebors, 
wast  of  goodes,  myq^endinge  of  tyme,  and  som  tyme 
manslaughter.  Certes,  hazardours  ne  mowe  not 
be  withoute  gret  synne,  whil  they  haunte  that  craft. 
Of  avarice  cometh  cek  lesynges,  thcfte,  and  fals 
witnesse  and  fals  othcs.  And  ye  schul  undirstonde 
that  these  ben  grete  synnes,  and  exprcsce  agains 
the  comaundemcntz  of  God,  as  I  have  sayd.  Fals 
witnesse  is  in  word  and  eek  in  dede  ;  in  word  as  for 
to  bireve  thin  ncighebor  his  good  name  by  thy  false 
Avitnessinge,  or  bireve  him  his  catel  or  his  heri- 
tage by  thy  fals^  witnesse,  whan  thou  for  ire,  or 
for  meede,  or  for  envie,  berest  fals  witnes,  or 
accusist  him,  or  excusist  him  by  thy  false  witnes, 
or  ellis  excusist  thiself  falsly.  Ware  yow,  queste- 
mongers  and  notaries.  Certis,  for  fals  witnessynge 
was  Susanna  in  ful  gret  sorwe  and  peyne,  and 
many  another  mo.  The  synne  of  thefte  is  eek  ex- 
presse  agayns  Goddes  hestis,  and  that  in  tuo 
manors,  corporel  and  spirituel ;  corporel,  as  for  to 
take  thy  neighebours  catcl  agayns  his  wille,  be  it 
by  force  or  by  sleight;  be  it  by  mette  or  by 
mesure ;  by  stelynge  eek  of  fals  enditements  upon 
him ;  and  in  borwyng  of  thin  neighebores  catelle 
in  entent  never  to  pay,  and  in  semblable  thinges. 
Espirituel  thcfte  is  sacrilege,  that  is  to  sayn, 
hurtynge  of  holy  thinges,  or  of  thing  sacred  to 
Crist.  Sacrilege  is  in  tuo  maneres ;  that  oon  is 
by  resoun  of  holy  place,  as  chirches  or  chirche- 
hawes ;  for  whiche  every  vileins  synne  that  men 


THE    PERSONES   TALE.  337 

doon  in  suche  places  may  be  clepid  sacrilege,  or 
every  violence  in  semblable  place ;  that  other 
manor  is  as  tho  that  withdrawen  falsly  the  rentes 
and  rightes  that  longen  to  holy  chirche ;  and 
generally,  sacrilege  is  to  revo  holy  thing  fro  holy 
place,  or  unholy  thing  out  of  holy  place,  or  holy 
thing  out  of  unholy  place, 

KEirEDITJM    CONTEA    AVARICIAJI. 

Now  schul  ye  understonde  that  the  relevynge  of 
avarice  is  misericorde  and  pite  largely  taken.  And 
men  might  axen,  why  that  misericord  and  pite  is 
relievyng  of  avarice ;  certes,  the  avaricious  man 
schewith  no  pite  ne  misericorde  to  the  needeful 
man.  For  he  delitith  him  in  the  kepyng  of  his 
tresor,  and  nought  in  the  rescowing  ne  relievyng 
of  his  evencristen.  And  therfore  speke  I  first  of 
misericord.  Thanne  is  misericord,  as  saith  the 
philosopher,  a  vertu,  by  which  the  corrage  of  a 
man  is  stired  by  the  myseise  of  him  that  is 
myseysed.  Upon  which  misericorde  folwith  |)?/<ie, 
in  parformynge  of  chariteahle  jcerlis  of  merde, 
helping  and  comfortinge  him  that  is  miseased.  And 
certes,  these  moeven  men  to  the  misericord  of 
Jhesu  Crist,  that  yaf  himself  for  oure  gult,  and 
suffrede  deth  for  misericord,  and  foryaf  us  oure 
original  synne,  and  therby  relessid  us  fro  peyne  of 
helle,  and  amenuside  the  peynes  of  purgatorie  by 
penitence,  and  yeveth  grace  wel  to  do,  and  at  the 
laste  the  joyc  of  heven.  The  spices  of  misericorde 
ben  for  to  love,  and  for  to  yive,  and  eek  for  to 
foryive  and  for  to  relesso,  and  for  to  have  pite  in 
herte,  and  compassioun  of  the  meschicf  of  his  even 

VOL.  III.  z 


338  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

cristen,  and  eek  chastize  ther  as  ncede  is.  Ano- 
ther maner  of  remedye  agayns  avarice,  is  resonable 
largesse  ;  but  sothely  here  bihovith  the  considcra- 
cioun  of  the  grace  of  Jhcsu  Crist,  and  of  the  tem- 
jDorel  goodes,  and  eek  of  the  goodes  perdurable 
that  Crist  yaf  us,  and  eek  to  have  remembraunce 
of  the  deth  that  he  sehal  resceyve,  he  noot  not 
\\'hanne,  xoher  ne  how ;  and  eke  he  sehal  forgon  al 
that  he  hath,  save  oonly  that  he  hath  dispendid  in 
goode  werkes. 

But  for  als  moche  as  some  folk  ben  unresonable, 
men  oughte  to  eschiewe  fole-largesse,  that  men 
clepen  wast.  Certes,  he  that  is  fool-large,  he  yiveth 
nought  his  catel,  but  he  leseth  his  catel.  Sothely, 
what  thing  that  he  yiveth  for  vaynglorie,  as  to 
mynstrals,  and  to  folk  for  to  here  his  renoun  in  the 
world,  he  hath  synne  therof,  and  noon  almes ; 
certes,  he  lesith  foule  his  goodes,  that  sekith  with 
the  yift  of  his  goode  no  thing  but  synne.  He 
is  like  to  an  hors  that  sekith  rather  to  drynke 
drovy  watir,  and  trouble,  than  for  to  drinke  watir 
of  the  welle  that  is  clear.  And  for  as  moche  as 
thay  yive  ther  as  thay  schulde  not  yive,  to  hem 
appendith  thilke  malisoun  that  Crist  sehal  yive  at 
the  day  of  doom  to  hem  that  sehal  be  dampned. 

# 

DE    GULA. 

After  avarice  cometh  glotenye,  which  is  expresse 
eke  agayns  the  comaundemont  of  God.  Glotenye 
is  unresonable  and  desordeyned  eoveytise  to  ete 
and  to  drynke  or  dies  to  done  ynouhe  to  the  unme- 
surahle  or  disordeyn  covetyse  to  ete  and  to  dnnke. 


THE   PERSONES   TALE.  339 

This  synne  corruptid  al  this  world,  as  is  wel  sehewed 
in  the  synne  of  Adam  and  of  Eva.  Loke  eek  what 
saith  seint  Poiil  of  glotoxins  ;  manj^  folh  so,  saith 
he,  gon,  of  whiche  I  have  ofte  said  to  yow,  and 
now  I  say  it  wepyng,  that  thei  bien  thenemyes  of 
tlie  cros  of  Crist,  of  whiche  thende  is  deth,  and  of 
whiche  here  wombe  is  here  God  and  here  gloria ; 
in  confusioun  of  hem  that  so  saveren  erthely  thinges. 
He  that  is  usaunt  to  this  shine  of  glotomje,  he  ne 
may  no  sinne  withstande,  he  moste  hue  in  servage  of 
alle  vices,  for  it  is  the  develes  horde,  there  he  hideth 
him  inne  and  resteth.  This  synne  hath  manj^  spices. 
Tlie  firste  is  dronkenes,  that  is  thorrible  sepulture  of 
mannes  resoun ;  and  therfore  whan  man  is  dronken, 
he  hath  lost  his  resoun;  and  this  is  dedly  synne.  But 
schortly,  whan  that  a  man  is  not  wont  to  strong 
drinke,  and  paraventure  ne  knowith  not  the 
strengthe  of  the  drynk,  or  hath  feblesse  in  his 
heed,  or  hath  travayled,  thurgh  which  he  drynkith 
the  more,  and  be  sodeynly  caught  with  drynke,  it 
is  no  dedly  synne,  but  venial.  The  secounde  spice 
of  glotenye  is,  whan  the  spirit  of  a  man  wexith  al 
trouble  for  drunkenesse,  and  bireveth  him  his 
witte  and  his  discressioun.  The  thridde  spice  of 
glotouns  is,  when  a  man  devoureth  his  mete,  and 
hath  no  rightful  maner  of  etj-ng.  The  ferthe  is, 
whan  thurgh  the  grete  abundaunce  of  his  mete, 
the  humours  of  his  body  been  distemprid.  The 
fifte  is,  forgetelnesse  by  to  mochc  drinking,  for 
which  a  man  somtyme  forgetith  by  the  morwe 
what  he  dide  at  eve,  or  on  the  night  bifore. 

In  other  maner  ben  distinct  the  spices  of  glo- 
tonye,  after  seint  Gregory.     The  firste  is,  for  to  ete 


340  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES, 

or  drynkc  byfore  tyme  to  ete.  The  secound  is, 
whan  man  yiveth  him  to  delicate  mete  or  drinke. 
The  thridde  is,  whanne  man  takith  to  moche 
therof  over  mesure.  The  ferthe  is,  curiosite,  with 
gret  entent  to  make  and  apparayle  his  mete.  The 
fifte  is,  for  to  ete  to  gredely.  These  ben  the  fyve 
fyngres  of  the  develes  hand,  by  whiche  he  drawith 
folk  to  synne. 

HEMEDITTM    CONTRA    GULAM. 

Agayns  giotonye  the  remedie  is  abstinence,  as 
saith  Galien  ;  but  that  holde  I  nought  meritorie,  if 
he  do  it  oonly  for  the  helo  of  his  body.  Seint 
Austyn  wol  that  abstinence  be  don  for  vertu,  and 
with  pacience.  Abstinence,  he  saith,  is  litil 
worth,  but  if  a  man  have  good  wille  therto,  and 
but  it  be  enforced  by  pacience  and  by  charite,  and 
that  men  doon  it  for  Goddes  sake,  and  in  hope  to 
have  the  blisse  of  hcven.  The  felawes  of  absti- 
nence ben  attemperaunce,  that  holdith  the  meno 
in  alle  thinges ;  eek  schame,  that  cschiewith  al 
dishonestc ;  sufRsaunce,  that  seeketh  noone  riche 
metes  ne  drynkes,  ne  doth  no  force  of  to  outrageous 
apparaillyng  of  mete  ;  mesure  also  that  restreyneth 
by  resoun  the  dislavc  appctit  of  etyng ;  sobcrnes 
also,  that  restreyneth  the  outrage  of  drinke;  sparijnge 
also,  that  restreyneth  the  delicat  ese  to  sitte  longe  atte 
his  mete  and  softehj,  wherfore  sinnme  folk  stonden  of 
here  owen  iville  to  ete,  because  they  ivol  ete  atte  lasse 
laysir. 


THE   PERSONES   TALE.  341 


DE    LX7XURIA. 


After  glotonye  thanne  cometh  leccherie,  for 
these  two  synnes  ben  so  neih  cosyns,  that  ofte 
tyme  thay  wol  not  departe.  Unda  Paulus  ad 
Eplics.,  nolite  inehriari  vino  in  quo  est  luxuria,  etc. 
God  wot  this  synne  is  ful  displesaunt  tiling  to 
God,  for  he  saydc  himself,  Do  no  leccherie.  And 
therfore  he  putte  gret  peyne  agayn  this  synne. 
For  in  the  olde  law,  if  a  womman  thral  were  take 
in  this  synne,  sehe  seholde  be  beten  with  staves  to 
the  deth  ;  and  if  sche  were  a  gentilwoniman,  sche 
sehulde  be  slayn  with  stoones  ;  and  if  sche  were  a 
bisschoppis  donghter,  sche  sehulde  be  brent  by 
Goddis  comaunderaent.  Fortherover,  for  the  synne 
of  leccherie  God  dreinte  al  the  world  at  the 
diluvic,  and  after  that  he  hrente  fyve  citees  with 
thonder  layt,  and  sonk  hem  into  hello. 

Now  let  us  thanne  speke  of  thilke  stynkyng 
synne  of  leccherie,  that  men  clepen  advoutrj-,  tJiat 
is  of  weddid  folk,  that  is  to  sayn,  if  that  oon  of 
hem  be  weddid,  or  elles  bothe.  Seint  Johan  saith, 
that  advouteris  schuln  be  in  helle  in  watir  brcn- 
nyng  of  fuyr  and  of  brimston ;  in  fuyr  for  the 
leccherie,  in  brimston  for  the  stynk  ofhcv  ordure. 
Certis  the  brtkyng  of  this  sacrament  is  an  hor- 
rible thing ;  hit  was  makid  of  God  himself  in  Para- 
dis,  and  confermed  of  Jhesu  Crist,  as  witnesseth 
seint  Mathow ;  a  man  schal  leto  fader  and  mooder, 
and  take  liim  to  his  wif,  and  thay  schul  ben  two 
in  oon  fleisch.  This  sacrament  bitokeneth  the 
knyttyng  togider  of  Crist  and  of  holy  chirche. 
And  nat  oonly  that  God  forbad  advotrie  in  dede, 


342  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

but  eek  he  comaundede,  that  thou  scholdest  not 
coveyte  thy  neyhcbors  wif.  In  this  heste,  seith 
seint  Austyn,  is  forboden  al  maner  coveytise  to  do 
leccherie.  Lo  what  seith  seint  Mathew  in  the 
Gospel,  that  who-so  seth  a  womman,  to  coveytise 
of  his  lust,  he  hath  doon  lecehery  with  hir  in  his 
herte.  Here  may  ye  se,  that  nought  oonly  the 
dede  of  this  synne  is  forboden,  but  eek  the  desir 
to  do  that  synne.  This  cursed  synne  annoyeth 
grevor/sly  hem  that  it  haunten  :  and  first  to  hero 
soule,  for  he  obligith  it  to  synne  and  to  pyne  of 
the  deth  that  is  pardurable ;  unto  the  body  an- 
noyeth it  grevously  also,  for  it  drcyeth  him  and 
wastith  him,  and  schent  him,  and  of  his  blood  he 
makith  sacrifice  to  the  devel  of  helle ;  it  wastith 
eek  his  catel  and  his  substaunce.  And  certes,  if 
that  it  be  a  foul  thing  a  man  to  waste  his  catel  on 
wommen,  yit  is  it  a  fouler  thing,  whan  that  for 
such  ordure  wommen  dispende  upon  men  here 
catel  and  here  substaunce.  This  synne,  as  saitli 
the  prophete,  byreveth  man  and  womman  her 
good  fame  and  al  here  honour,  and  it  is  ful  plea- 
saunt  to  the  devel ;  for  therby  wynneth  he  the 
mosle  pray  of  this  world.  And  right  as  a  mar- 
chaunt  deliteth  him  most  in  chaffare  that  he  hath 
most  avauntage  of,  right  so  delitith  the  feend  in 
this  ordure. 

This  is  the  other  bond  of  the  devel,  with  fyve 
fyngres,  to  cacche  the  poeple  to  his  vilonye.  The 
firste  fynger  is  the  foule  lokyng  of  the  foule 
womman  and  of  the  foule  man,  that  sleth  right  as 
a  basiliskoc  sleth  folk  by  the  venym  of  his  sight : 
for  the  coveytise  of  eyen  folwith  the  coveytise  of 


THE   PERSONES   TALE.  343 

the  herte.  The  secounde  fynger  is  the  vileynes 
touchinge  in  wikkid  manere.  And  therfore  saith 
Salamon,  that  who-so  touchith  and  handehth  a 
womman,  he  farith  hk  him  that  handelith  the 
scorpioLin,  that  styngith  andsodeinly  sleeth  thurgh 
his  envenemynge ;  or  as  who  so  touchith  warm 
picehe,  it  schent  his  fyngres.  The  thridde  is  foule 
wordes,  that  farith  lik  fuyr,  that  right  anoon 
brenneth  the  herte.  The  ferthe  is  the  kissyng ; 
and  trewely  he  were  a  greet  fool  that  wolde  kisse 
the  mouth  of  a  brennyng  oven  or  of  a  forneys  ;  and 
more  fooles  ben  thay  that  kyssen  in  vilonye,  for 
that  mouth  is  the  mouth  of  hcllc  ;  and  namely  thise 
olde  dotard  fooles  holours,  yit  wol  thay  kisse  and 
smater  hem,  though  thay  maye  nought  do.  Certis 
thay  ben  like  to  houndes ;  for  an  hound  Avhan  he 
Cometh  to  a  roser,  or  by  other  biisches,  though 
he  may  nought  pisse,  yet  wil  he  heVe  up  his  leg 
and  make  a  countenaunce  to  pisse.  And  for  that 
many  man  weneth  he  may  not  synne  for  no  li- 
corousnes  that  he  doth  Avith  his  wif,  certis  that 
oppinioun  is  fals ;  God  wot  a  man  may  sle  himself 
with  his  owne  knyf,  and  make  himself  dronk  of  his 
oughne  tonne.  Certis,  be  it  wif,  or  child,  or  eny 
worldly  thing,  that  he  lovyth  biforn  God,  it  is  his 
maumet,  and  he  is  an  ydolastre.  Man  schulde  love 
his  wyf  by  discrescioun,  paciently  and  attemperelly, 
and  thannc  is  sche,  as  it  were,  his  suster.  The 
fyfte  fynger  of  the  develes  bond,  is  the  stynkynge 
dede  of  leccherie.  Certes  the  fyve  fyngres  of  gio- 
tonye  the  devel  put  in  the  wombe  of  a  man;  and  his 
fyve  fyngres  of  lecehery  bygripeth  him  by  the 
reynes,  for  to  throwe  him  into  the  fourneys  of  hello, 


344  THE   CANTERBUHr   TALES. 

there  as  they  schuln  have  the  fuj-r  and  the  wormes 
that  ever  schal  lasten,  and  wepjng  and  wayling. 
and  scharp  hunger  and  thurst,  and  grislines  of 
develes,  that  schul  al  to-tere  hem  withoute  respit 
and  withouten  ende.  Of  lecchcrie,  as  I  sayde, 
sourdren  divers  spices  :  as  fornioacioun,  that  is  bi- 
twene  man  and  womman  that  ben  nought  maried, 
and  this  is  dedly  synne,  and  against  nature.  Al 
that  is  enemy  and  destruccioun  to  nature,  is  agayns 
nature.  Par  fay  the  resoun  of  a  man  telhth  him 
wel  that  it  is  dedly  synne,  for  als  moche  as  God 
forbad  leccherie.  And  seint  Poule  yevith  hem  that 
regne  that  is  due  to  no  wight  but  hem  that  doon 
synne  dedly.  Another  synne  of  lecchery  is,  for  to 
bireve  a  mayden  of  hir  maydenhode ;  for  he  that 
so  doth,  certes  he  casteth  a  mayden  out  of  the 
heigliest  degrc  that  is  in  the  present  lif,  and  birevith 
hir  thilke  precious  fruyt  that  the  book  clepith  the 
hundrid  fruyt, — I  can  yeve  it  noon  other  name  in 
Englisch,  but  in  Latyn  it  is  i-elepid  centesimus 
fructus  (secundum  Hieronhmun  contra  Jov'imamim). 
Certes  he  that  so  doth,  is  cause  of  many  harmes 
and  vilenyes,  mo  than  eny  man  can  rekene ;  right 
as  he  som  tyme  is  cause  of  alle  the  damages  that 
bestis  doon  in  the  feeld,  that  brekith  the  hegge  of 
the  closure,  thurgh  which  he  destroycth  that  may 
not  be  restored ;  for  certes  no  more  may  mayden- 
hode be  restored,  than  an  arm,  that  is  smyten  fro 
the  body,  r.etourne  agayn  to  waxe ;  schc  may  have 
mercy,  this  wot  I  wel,  if  sche  have  wille  to  do 
penitence,  but  never  schal  it  be  but  that  sche  nas 
corrupt.  And  al  be  it  so  that  I  have  spoke  som- 
what  of  advoutre,  yit  is  it  good  to   speke   of  mo 


THE   TERSONES   TALE.  345 

perils  that  longen  to  advoutre,  foi'  to  eschiewe  that 
foule  synne.  Advoutrie,  in  Latyn,  is  for  to  sayn, 
approching  of  other  mannes  bed,  thorugh  the  which 
tho  that  whilom  were  con  fleisch,  ubaimdone  here 
bodyes  to  other  personcs.  Ofthis  synnc,  as  saith 
the  wise  man,  many  harmes  cometh  thereof ;  first, 
brekyng  of  faith ;  and  certes  faith  is  the  keyc  of 
cristendom,  and  wlum  that  faith  is  broke  and  lorn, 
sothely  cristendom  is  lorn,  and  stont  veyn  and  witl:- 
outen  fruyt.  This  synne  is  eek  a  theef,  for  thefte 
is  generally  to  speke  to  reve  a  wight  his  thing 
agayns  his  wille.  Certis,  this  is  the  foulest  thefte 
that  may  be,  whan  a  womman  stelith  hir  body  from 
hire  housbonde,  and  yiveth  it  to  hire  holour  to  de- 
foule  hire,  and  stelith  hir  soule  fro  Crist,  and  yevith 
it  to  the  deveh  This  is  a  fouler  thefte  than  for  to 
breke  a  chirche  and  stele  ehalises,  for  these  ad- 
vouterers  breke  the  temple  of  God  spirituelly,  and 
stelen  the  vessel  of  grace,  that  is  the  body  and  the 
soule  ;  for  which  Jhcsu  Crist  schal  destroyen  hem. 
as  saith  seint  Poule.  Sothely  of  this  thefte  doutyde 
gretly  Joseph,  whan  that  his  lordes  wyf  prayde 
him  of  vilonye,  whan  he  saide,  '  Lo,  my  lady,  how 
my  lord  hath  take  to  me  under  my  warde  al  that 
he  hath  in  this  w^orld,  ne  no  thing  of  his  tJiinges  is 
oute  of  my  power,  but  oonly  ye  that  ben  his  wyf; 
and  how  schuld  I  do  thanne  this  Avikkidnes,  and 
synne  so  horribly  agayns  God,  and  my  Lord  ?  God 
it  forbede  !'  Alas  !  al  to  litel  is  such  trouthe  now 
i-founde.  The  thridde  harm  is  the  filthe,  thurgh 
which  thay  breken  the  comaundement  of  God,  and 
defoule  the  auctour  of  here  matrimonye,  that  is 
Crist.    For  certis,  in  so  moche  as  the  sacrament  of 


346  THE   CANTERBURY   TAXES. 

manage  is  so  noble  and  so  digne,  go  moche  is  it 
the  gretter  synne  for  to  breke  it ;  for  God  makidc 
manage  in  Paradis  in  thestat  of  innocence,  to  mul- 
tiplie  mankynde  to  the  service  of  God,  and  ther- 
fore  is  the  brekyng  therof  the  more  grevous,  of 
which  breking  cometh  fals  heires  ofte  tymes,  that 
wrongfully  occupien  mennes  heritage;  and  ther- 
fore  wolde  Crist  putte  hem  out  of  the  regne  of 
heven,  that  is  heritage  to  goode  folk.  Of  this 
breking  cometh  eek  ofte  tyme  that  folk  vmwar 
wedden  or  synnen  with  her  kynrede ;  and  namely 
these  harlottis,  that  haunten  bordels  of  these  foule 
wommen,  that  mowe  be  likened  to  a  comune  gonge, 
where  as  men  purgen  her  entrayles  of  her  ordure. 
What  saye  we  eke  of  putours,  that  lyven  by  the 
orrible  synne  of  jjutrie,  and  constreyne  wymmen, 
ye,  som  tyme  his  oughne  wyf  or  his  child,  as  don 
these  baudes,  to  yelde  hem  a  eerteyn  rente  of  here 
bodily  putrie?  certes,  these  ben  cursede  synnes. 
Understonde^/i  eek  that  avoutrie  is  set  gladly  in  the 
ten  coir.aunderaents  bitwixe  manslaughter  and 
thefte,  for  it  is  the  grettest  thefte  that  may  be, 
for  it  is  thefte  of  body  and  soule,  .and  it  is  lik 
homicidie,  for  it  kerveth  a-tuo  hem  that  first 
were  makid  oon  fleisch.  And  therfore  by  the 
olde  lawe  of  God  thay  seholde  be  slayn,  but  nathe- 
les,  by  the  lawe  of  Jhesu  Crist,  that  is  the  lawe  of 
pite,  whan  he  sayde  to  the  womraan  that  was 
founde  in  advoutrie,  and  schulde  have  ben  slayn 
with  stoones  aftir  the  wille  of  the  Jewes,  as  was 
her  law,  '  Go,'  quod  Jhesu  Crist,  '  and  haue  no 
more  wille  to  synne  or  wilne  no  more  to  do  synne  ; ' 
sothely,  the  vengeance  of  avouterye  is  awardid  to 


THE   PERSONES   TALE.  347 

the  peyne  of  helle,  but-if  it  be  destourbed  by  peni- 
tence. Yit  ben  ther  mo  spices  of  this  cursed  synne, 
as  whan  that  oon  of  hem  is  rehgious,  or  ellis  bothe, 
or  for  folk  that  ben  entred  into  ordre,  as  sub-dekin, 
or  dekin,  or  prest,  or  hospitalers ;  and  ever  the 
higher  that  he  be  in  orclre,  the  gretter  is  the  synne. 
The  thinges  that  gretly  aggreggith  her  synne,  is 
the  brekyng  of  here  avow  of  chastite,  whan  thay 
resceyved  the  ordre ;  and  fortherover  is  soth,  that 
holy  ordre  is  chef  of  alle  the  tresor  of  God,  and 
is  a  special  signe  and  mark  of  chastite,  to  schewe 
that  thay  ben  joyned  to  chastite,  which  that  is  the 
moste  precious  lif  that  is.  And  eek  these  ordred 
folk  ben  specially  tytled  to  God,  and  of  the  special 
meyne  of  God ;  of  whiche  whan  thay  don  dedly 
synne,  thay  ben  the  special  traytours  of  God  and 
of  his  poeple,  for  they  lyven  of  the  peple  to  prayefor 
the  peple,  and  whil  thay  ben  suche  traytours  here 
prayer  avayleth  not  to  the  poeple.  Prestis  ben 
aungels,  as  by  the  dignite  of  here  misterie ;  hut 
for  sothe  seint  Poul  saith.  that  Sathanas  transform- 
eth  him  in^o  an  aungel  of  light.  Sothely,  the  prest 
that  hauntith  dedly  synne,  he  may  be  likened  to 
the  aungel  of  derknes,  tramfoi^mcd  into  the  aungel 
of  light;  and  ho  semeth  aungel  of  light,  but  for 
sothe  he  is  aungil  of  derknes.  Suche  prestes  hen 
the  sones  of  Helie,  as  schewith  in  the  book  of 
Kinges,  that  thay  were  the  sones  of  Belial,  that  is, 
the  devel.  Belial  is  to  save,  withoute  juge,  and  so 
faren  thay  ;  thay  thynke  hem  fre,  and  han  no  juge, 
no  more  than  hath  a  fre  bole,  that  takith  which 
cow  that  him  liketh  in  the  toun.  So  faren  thay  by 
wommen ;  for  right  as  a  fre  bole  is  y-nough  for  al 


348  THE   CANTERBUKY   TALES. 

a  toun,  right  so  is  a  wikked  prest  corrupcioun 
y-nough  for  al  a  parisch,  or  for  al  a  contray. 
These  prestos,  as  saith  the  book,  ne  conne  not 
ministere  the  mister)-  of  prcsthode  to  the  poeple, 
ne  God  ne  knowe  thay  not ;  thay  holde  hem  nought 
apayed,  as  saith  the  book,  of  soden  fleissch  that  was 
to  hem  offred,  but  thay  tooke  by  force  the  fleissch 
that  is  raw.  Certcs,  so  these  schrewes  holde  hem 
not  appaycd  with  roasted  fleissh  and  sode  fleissh, 
with  whiche  the  poeple  feeden  hem  in  gret 
reverence,  but  thay  wil  have  raw  fleisch  of  folkes 
wyvcs  and  here  doughtres.  And  certes,  these 
wommen  that  consenten  to  here  harlotrie,  don  gret 
wrong  to  Crist  and  to  holy  chirehe,  and  to  alia 
halwes,  and  to  alle  soules,  for  thay  bireven  alle 
these  hem  that  schulde  worschipe  Crist  and  holy 
chirehe  and  praye  for  cristen  soules.  And  therfore 
han  suehe  prcstis,  and  here  lemmans  eeke  that  con- 
senten to  here  leccherie,  the  malisoun  of  al  the 
court  cristian,  til  thay  come  to  amendement.  The ' 
thridde  spice  of  advoutry  is  som  tyme  bitwix  a 
man  and  his  wif,  and  that  is,  whan  thay  take  noon 
reward  in  her  assembling  but  oonly  to  the  fleischly 
delit,  as  saith  seint  Jerom,  and  ne  rekke  of  no 
thing  but  that  thay  be  assemblid  bycause  that  thay 
ben  maried ;  al  is  good  y-nough  as  thinkith  hem. 
But  in  suche  folk  hath  the  devel  power,  as  saith 
the  aungel  Raphael  to  Thoby,  for  in  here  assem- 
blyng,  thay  putten  Jhesu  Crist  out  of  her  herte, 
and  yiven  hemself  to  alle  ordure.  The  ferthe  spice 
is  the  assemblynge  of  hem  that  ben  of  here  kynrede, 
or  of  hem  that  ben  of  oon  affinite,  or  elles  with  hem 
with  whiche    here    fadres  or  here  kynrede   han 


THE   PERSONES   TALE.  349 

deled  in  the  synne  of  leccherie  ;  this  synne  makith 
hem  like  houndes,  that  taken  noon  heede  of  kyn- 
rede.  And  certes,  parenteal  is  in  tuo  manercs, 
cyther  gostly  or  tieisshly.  Gostly,  as  for  to  dele 
with  her  gossib  ;  for  right  so  as  he  that  cngendrith 
a  child,  is  his  fleisshly  fader,  right  so  is  his  god- 
father his  fader  espirituel ;  for  which  a  womman 
may  in  no  lasso  synne  assemble  with  hir  gossib, 
than  with  hire  oughne  fleischly  fader  or  brother. 
The  fifte  spice  is  thilke  abhominable  synne,  of 
which  that  no  man  imnethe  oughte  to  speke  ne 
write,  nathelcs  it  is  openly  rehcrsed  in  holy 
wryt.  But  though  that  holy  writ  speke  of  horri- 
ble synne,  certes  holy  writ  may  not  be  defouled, 
no  more  than  the  sonne  that  schyncth  on  a 
dongehul.  Another  synne  apperticneth  to  leccherj', 
that  cometh  in  sloping,  and  this  synne  cometh 
ofte  to  hem  that  ben  maydenes,  and  eek  to  hem 
that  ben  corrupte ;  and  this  synne  men  clepen 
pollucioun,  that  cometh  in  foure  manors ;  som 
tyme  it  cometh  of  languisschynge  of  the  body,  for 
the  humours  ben  to  ranke  and  to  abundaunt  in  the 
body  of  man  ;  som  tyme  of  infirmite,  for  the  feble- 
ncsse  of  the  vertu  retentyf,  as  phisik  maketh  men- 
cioun  ;  and  some  tyme  for  surfete  of  mete  and 
drynke  ;  som  tyme  of  vileins  thoughtcs  that  ben 
enclosed  in  mannes  mynde  whan  he  goth  to  slepe, 
tvhiche  maij  not  hen  ivithoiite  synne  ;  fro  ivhiche  a  man 
moste  kepe  him  wisely,  ov  elles  may  men  synne 
grevously. 


I 

350  THE   CANTERBURY    TALES. 

EEMEDIUM    CONTKA    LtTXTJEIAM. 

Now  Cometh  the  remeclyeayensleechery,and  that 
is  generally  chastite  of  wikkedhede  and  continence 
that  restreyneth  alle  the  disordeigne  moev}'nges 
that  comen  of  ficischly  talentes  ;  and  ever  the 
gretter  meryt  schal  he  han  that  most  restreyneth 
cschaufynges  of  ordure  of  this  synne  ;  and  this  is 
in  tuo  manercs ;  that  is  to  sayn,  chastite  of  ma- 
riagc,  and  chastite  of  widewhede.  Now  schalt  thou 
iinderstonde,that  matrimoignc  is  Icful  assemblynge 
of  man  and  womman,  that  resccyvcn  by  virtu  of 
this  sacrcmcnt  the  bond  thurgh  which  thay  maye 
not  be  departid  in  al  here  lif,  that  is  to  saye,  while 
thay  lyven  bothe.  This,  as  saith  the  boke,  is  a  ful 
gret  sacrement :  God  makid  it  (as  I  have  said)  in 
Paradis,  and  wolde  himself  be  born  in  mariage  ; 
and  for  to  halwen  mariage  he  w"as  at  the  wed- 
dyng  wher  as  he  turnede  watir  into  wj'n,  which 
was  the  firste  miracle  that  he  wrought  in  erthe 
biforn  his  disciples.  The  trewe  effect  of  mariage 
clensith  fornicaeioun.and  replenischith  holychirche 
of  good  lynage,  for  that  is  the  endc  of  mariage, 
and  it  chaungith  dedly  synne  into  venyal  synne 
bituixe  hem  that  ben  wcddid,  and  maketh  the 
hertes  al  one,  as  wel  as  the  bodyes.  This  is  verray 
mariage  that  was  first  blessed  by  God,  er  that  the 
synne  bigan,  whan  naturel  laAve  was  in  his  righte 
poynt  in  Paradis ;  and  it  was  ordeyned,  that  oon 
man  schulde  have  but  oon  womman,  and  oon  wom- 
man but  oon  man,  as  saith  seint  Augustyn,  by 
many  resouns.  First,  for  mariage  is  figured  bi- 
twixe  Crist  and  holy  chirche;    another  is,  for  a 


THE   PERSONES   TALE.  351 

man  is  heed  of  a  womman  (algate  by  ordinaunee 
it  schulde  be  so)  ;  for  if  a  womman  hadde  mo  men 
than  oon,  than  schulde  sche  have  mo  hedes  than 
oon,  and  that  were  an  horrible  thing  biforn  God ; 
and  eek  a  womman  myghte  nought  please  many 
folk  al  at  oones ;  and  also  ther  ne  schulde  never 
be  pees  and  rest  among  hem,  for  everich  wolde 
aske  his  oughne  thing.  And  fortherover,  no  man 
schulde  knowe  his  oughne  engendrure,  ne  who 
schulde  have  his  heritage,  and  the  womman  seholde 
be  the  lasse  loved  fro  the  tyme  that  sche  were 
joyned  to  many  men. 

Now  Cometh  how  that  a  man  schulde  bere  [him 
with  his  wif,  and  namely  in  tuo  thinges,  that  is  to 
sayn,  in  sufFeraunee  and  in  reverence,  and  that 
schewede  Crist  when  he  made  first  womman.  For 
he  ne  made  hire  not  of  the  heed  of  Adam,  for 
sche  schulde  not  to  gret  lordschipe  have  ;  /o?'  ther 
as  the  womman  hath  the  maistry,  sche  makith  to 
moche  disaray ;  ther  needith  noon  ensample  of 
this,  the  experience  that  we  have  day  by  day 
oughte  suffice.  Also  certes,  God  ne  made  nought 
womman  of  the  foot  of  Adam,  for  sche  ne  seholde 
nought  be  holden  to  lowe,  for  sche  can  not  pa- 
ciently  suffre.  But  God  made  womman  of  the 
ribbe  of  Adam,  for  womman  schulde  be  felawe 
unto  man.  Man  schulde  here  him  to  his  wif  in 
faith,  in  trouthe,  and  in  love  ;  as  saith  seint  Poule, 
that  a  man  schulde  love  his  wif,  as  Crist  loved 
holy  chirche,  that  loved  it  so  wele  that  he  deyede 
for  it ;  so  schulde  a  man  for  his  wyf,  if  it  were 
neede. 

Now  how  that  a  womman  schulde  be  subject  to 


352  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

hir  housbonde,  that  tellith  seint  Peter,  iij"  c"; 
first  in  obedience.  And  eek,  as  saith  the  decre, 
a  womman  that  is  a  wif,  as  longc  as  sche  is  a  wif, 
sche  hath  noon  auctorite  to  swere  ne  to  here  wit- 
nesse,  withoute  leve  of  hir  housbonde,  that  is  hir 
lord ;  algate  he  schulde  be  so  by  resoun,  Sche 
schulde  eek  serve  him  in  al  honeste,  and  ben 
attempre  of  hir  array,  I  wot  wel  that  thay  schulde 
sette  here  entent  to  please  her  housbondes,  but 
nought  by  here  queyntise  of  array.  Seint  Jerom 
saith,  that  wyves  that  ben  arrayed  in  silk  and  in 
purpre,  ne  mowe  nought  clothe  hem  in  Jhesu 
Crist.  Loke  what  saith  saint  Johan  eek  in  the 
same  matier.  Seint  Grcgori  saith  eek,  that  no 
wight  sekith  precious  clothing  ne  array,  but  oonly 
for  veyn-glorie  to  ben  honoured  the  more  biforn 
the  poeple.  It  is  a  gret  folly,  a  womman  to  have 
fair  array  outward,  and  hirsilf  to  ben  foul  in-Avard. 
A  wyf  schulde  eek  be  mesurablo  in  lokyng,  and 
in  beryng,  and  in  laugheing,  and  discrete  in  alle 
hir  Avordes  'and  hir  decks,  and  above  alle  Avorldly 
thinges  sche  schulde  love  hir  housebonde  Avith  al 
hire  herte,  and  to  him  to  be  trewe  of  hir  body ; 
so  scholde  an  housebonde  eeke  ben  treAve  to  his 
wif;  for  sith  that  al  the  body  is  the  housebondes, 
so  schulde  here  herte  ben,  or  elles  ther  is  bitAvixe 
hem  tuo,  as  in  that,  no  parfyt  manage.  Thanne 
schal  men  understonde,  that  for  thre  thinges  a 
man  and  his  Avyf  mowe  fleischly  assemble.  The 
firste  is,  in  entent  of  engendrure  of  children,  to 
the  service  of  God,  for  certis  that  is  the  cause 
fynal  of  matrimoyne.  The  secounde  cause  is,  to 
yelden  everych  of  hem  unto  other  the  detto  of  his 


THE   PERSONES   TALE.  353 

body;  for  neyther  of  hem  hath  power  of  his 
oughne  body.  The  thridde  is,  for  to  eschiewe 
leceherie  and  vilenye.  The  ferthe  for  sotho  is 
dedly  synne.  As  to  the  firste,  it  is  meritory ; 
the  secounde  also,  for,  as  saith  the  decre,  that 
sche  hath  merite  of  chastite,  that  yeldith  to  hir 
hoiisebonde  the  dettc  of 'hir  body,  ye  though  it  be 
agayn  hir  likyng  and  the  lust  of  hir  hert.  The 
thridde  manor  is  venial  synne ;  and  trewly,  scarsly 
may  eny  of  these  be  withoute  venial  synne,  for 
the  corrupcioun  and  for  the  delit.  The  ferthe 
maner  is  for  to  understonde,  as  if  thay  assemble 
oonly  for  amorous  love,  and  for  noon  of  the  for- 
sayde  causes,  but  for  to  accomplise  thilke  bren- 
nynge  delyt,  thay  rcklie  never  how  ofte,  sothely 
it  is  dedly  synne ;  and  yit,  with  sorwe,  some  folk 
wole  more  peyn  hem  for  to  doon,  than  to  her 
appetit  suffiseth. 

The  secounde  maner  of  chastite  is  to  ben  a 
clene  widewe,  and  to  eschiewe  the  embrasynges 
of  men,  and  desiren  the  embrasynges  of  Jhesu 
Crist.  These  ben  tho  that  ban  ben  wyves,  and 
ban  forgon  here  housebondes,  and  eek  wommen 
that  ban  doon  leceherie,  and  be  relieved  by  peni- 
tence. And  certis,  if  that  a  wyf  couthe  kepe  hir 
al  ehast,  by  licence  of  hir  housebonde,  so  that 
sehe  yeve  non  occasioun  that  he  agilt,  it  were  to 
hir  a  gret  merit.  Thise  maner  wymmen,  that 
observcn  chastite,  moste  be  clene  in  hcrte  as  wel 
as  in  body,  and  in  thought,  and  mesurable  in  clo- 
thing and  in  countenaunce,  abstinent  in  etyng  and 
drynkyng,  in  speche  and  in  dede,  and  thanne  is 
sche  the  vessel  or  the  boyst  of  tho  blessed  Mag- 

VOL.  III.  A  A 


354  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

claleyne,  that  fulfiUith  holy  ehirche  ful  of  good 
odour.  The  thridde  maner  of  ehastite  is  virginite, 
and  it  bihoveth  that  sehc  be  holy  in  herte,  and 
clene  of  body,  and  thanno  is  sche  spouse  of  Jhesu 
Crist,  and  sche  is  the  lif  of  aungcls ;  sche  is  the 
preysyng  of  this  world,  and  she  is  as  these  mar- 
tires  in  egalite  ;  sche  hath  in  hir  that  tongue  may 
nought  telle.  Yirginite  bar  oure  Lord  Jhesu  Crist, 
and  virgine  was  himselve. 

Another  remedy  agayns  leccherie  is  specially  to 
wilhdrawe  such  thinges  as  yiven  oceasioun  to  thilke 
vilonye ;  as  is  ease,  and  etyng,  and  drynkyng ;  for 
certes,  whan  the  pot  boylith  strongely,  the  bestc 
remedye  is  to  withdrawe  the  fuyr.  Sloping  eek 
longe  in  gret  quiete  is  also  a  greet  norice  unto 
leccherie. 

Another  remedye  agains  leccherie  is,  that  a 
man  or  a  womman  eschiewe  the  corapanye  of  hem 
by  whiche  he  doutith  to  be  tempted ;  for  al  be  it 
so  that  the  dede  be  withstonde,  yet  is  ther  gret 
temptacioun.  Sothely  a  whit  wal,  although  it 
brcnne  not  fully  by  stikyng  of  a  candel,  yet  is  the 
wal  blak  of  the  leyte.  Ful  ofte  tyme  I  rede,  that 
no  man  truste  in  his  oughne  perfeccioun,  but  he 
be  stronger  than  Sampson,  or  holiere  than  Davyd, 
or  wiser  than  Salamon. 

Now  after  that  I  have  declared  yow  the  seven 
dedly  synnes  as  I  can,  and  some  of  here  braunches, 
and  here  remedyes,  sothelj',  if  I  eouthe,  I  wolde 
telle  yow  the  ten  comaundements,  but  so  heigh  a 
doctrine  I  leve  to  divines.  But  natheles,  I  hope 
to  God  thay  ben  touchid  in  this  litel  tretys  everich 
of  hem  alle. 


THE   PERSONES   TALE.  355 

Now  for  as  moeho  as  the  seeoundc  part  of  peni- 
tence stant  in  confessioun  of  mouth,  as  I  bigan  in 
the  firste  chapitre,  I  say,  seint  Aiistyn  saith,  synne 
is  every  word  and  every  dede,  and  al  that  men 
coveyten  agayn  the  lawe  of  Jhesu  Crist ;  and  this 
is  for  to  synne,  in  her  to,  in  mouthc,  and  in  dede, 
by  thy  fyve  wittis,  that  ben  sight,  heeryng, 
smellyng,  tastyng,  or  savoryng,  or  fclyng.  Now 
it  is  good  to  understondon  the  circumstaunces  that 
aggrcggen  moehe  to  every  synne.  Thou  sehalt 
eonsidre  what  tliou  art  that  dost  the  synne, 
whethir  that  thou  be  mal  or  femal,  old  other 
yong,  gentil  or  thral,  fre  or  servaunt,  hool  or  seek, 
weddid  or  sengle,  ordrid  or  unordred,  wys  or  fool, 
clerk  or  seeuler ;  if  sehe  be  of  thy  kyn,  bodily  or 
gostly,  or  noon  ;  if  any  of  thy  kynrede  have  synned 
with  hire  or  noon,  and  many  mo  thingcs. 

That  other  circumstaunce  is,  whether  it  be  don 
in  fornieacioun  or  in  advoutr}-,  or  incest  or  noon, 
or  mayden  or  noon,  in  manor  of  homicide  or  noon, 
horrible  grete  synne  or  smale,  and  how  long  thou 
hast  continued  in  synne.  The  thridde  circum- 
staunce is  the  place  Avher  thou  hast  don  synne, 
whether  in  other  mennes  houses,  or  in  thin  owne, 
in  feld,  or  in  chirche,  or  in  ehirchehawe,  in  chirchc 
dedicate,  or  noon.  Eor  if  the  chirche  ivere  ha- 
leived,  arid  man  or  ivomman  spillede  his  kynde 
ivithynne  that  place,  hy  way  of  synne  or  by  icycJced 
temptacioun,  it  is  enterdited  til  it  be  reconsiled 
Dy  the  bisehop  ;  and  the  prest  seholde  be  enter- 
dyted  that  dede  such  a  vilonye  to  terme  of  al  his 
lyf,  and  seholde  no  more  synge  no  masse  ;  and  if 
he  dede,  he  schulde  do  dedly  synne,  at  every  tyme 


3o6  THE   CxVISTEIiBURY   TALES. 

that  ho  song  masse.    The  ferthe  circumstaunce  is, 
by  which  mediatours,  as  by  messagers,  or  for  entyse- 
ment,  or  for  consentement,  to  here  companye  with 
Ma^vschipe  ;  for  many  a  wrecche,  for  to  here  com- 
panye, Avol  go  to  the  dcvel  of  helle.     For  thay 
that  eggyn  or  consentyn  to  the  synne,  ben  parte- 
neres  of  the  synne,  and  of  the  dampnacioun  of 
the  synnere.    The  fyfte  circumstaunce  is,  how  many 
tymes  that  he  hath  synned,  if  it  be  in  his  mynde, 
and  how  ofte  that  he  hath  fuUe.     For  he  that 
ofte  fallith  in  synne,  dcspiseth  the  mercy  of  God, 
and  encrcsceth  his  synne,  and  is  nnkynde  to  Crist, 
and  he  waxith  the  more  feble  to  withstonde  synne, 
and  synneth  the  more  lightly,  and  the  latter  arri- 
sith,  and  is  the  more  cschiewe  to  schrive  him,  and 
namely  to  him  that  hath  ben  his  confessour.     For 
whiehc  that  folk,  whan  thay  falle  agayn  to  here 
olde  folios,  cyther  thay  forletin  her  confessours  al 
utterly,  or  ellis  thay  departen  here  schrifte   in 
divers  places  ;   but  sotholy  such  departed  schrifte 
hath  no  mercy  of  God  of  his  synnes.     The  sixte 
circumstaunce  is,  why  that  a  man  synneth,  as  by 
which  temptacioun  ;  and  yf  himself  procure  thllke 
temptacioim,  or  by  excityng  of  other  folk  ;  or  if 
he  synne  with  a  womman  by  force  or  by  hir  owne 
assent ;  or  if  the  womman  maugre  hir  heed  hath 
ben  enforced  or  noon,  this  schal  sche  telle,  and 
whether  it  Avere  for  coveytise  or  for  poverte,  and 
if  it  was  hire  proeuryng  or  noon,  and  alle  such 
manor  barneys.     The  seventhe  circumstaunce  is, 
in  what  maner  he   hath  don  his  synne,  or  how 
that  sf'lie  hath  suffred  that  folk  ban  doon  to  hire. 
The  same  schal  the  man  telle  pleynly,  with  alio 


THE  peHsokes  tale.  357 

the  circumstaunces,  and  whether  he  have  synned 
with  commune  bordeal  womman  or  noon,  or  doon 
his  synne  in  holy  tyme  or  noon,  in  fastjng  tyme 
or  noon,  or  biforn  his  schrifte,  or  after  his  latter 
schrifte,  and  hath  paradventure  broken  therhj  his 
penaunce  enjoyned  therfore,  by  Avhos  help  or  by 
whos  counseil,  by  sorcery  or  by  other  craft,  al 
moste  be  told.  Alio  these  thinges,  after  thay  be 
grete  or  smale,  engreggen  the  consciens  of  a  man  ; 
and  eek  the  prest  that  is  the  jugge,  may  the  better 
ben  avysed  of  his  jugement  in  yivyng  of  thy  pen- 
aunce, and  that  is  after  thy  contricioun.  For 
understonde  Avel,  that  after  the  tyme  that  a  man 
hath  defouled  his  baptismo  by  synne,  if  he  wol 
come  to  savaeioun,  ther  is  noon  other  wey  but 
penitence,  and  schrifte  of  mouthe,  and  by  satisfac- 
cioun  ;  and  namely  by  the  tuo,  if  ther  be. a  con- 
fessour  to  which  he  may  schryve  him,  and  the 
thridde  if  ye  have  lif  to  parforme  it. 

Tlianne  schal  men  loke  it  and  considrc,  that  if 
he  wol  make  a  trewe  and  a  profitable  confessioun, 
ther  mostc  be  foure  eondiciouns.  First,  it  moste 
ben  in  sorweful  bittern  esse  of  herte,  as  sayde  the 
king  Ezechiel  to  God,  I  wol  remembre  me  alio  the 
yeres  of  my  lif  in  bitternes  of  myn  hert.  This  con- 
dicioun  of  bitternes  hath  fyve  signcs ;  the  first  is, 
that  confessioun  moste  be  schamefast,  not  for  to 
covere  ne  hydc  his  synne,  but  for  he  hath  agultid 
his  God  and  dcfoulid  his  soule.  And  herof  saith 
seint  Augustyn,  the  herte  tremblith  for  schame  of 
his  synne,  and  for  he  hath  gret  schamefastnes  he 
is  digne  to  have  gret  mercy  of  God.  Such  was 
the  confessioun  of  the  publican,  that  wolde  nought 


1 


358  THE   CAKTEEBUiir   TALES. 

heve  up  his  eyghen  to  heven,  for  ho  had  offcndid 
God  of  hevcn ;  for  which  scharaefastnes  he  had 
anon  the  mercy  of  God.  And  therefor  scith  seint 
Augustyn,  that  such  schamefast  folk  ben  next  for- 
yevenes  of  remissioun.  The  secounde  signe  is 
luimilite  of  confessioun ;  of  which  saith  seint 
Petre,  humblith  yow  under  the  might  of  God  ; 
the  hond  of  God  is  myghty  in  confessioun,  for 
therby  God  foryiveth  the  %  synnes,  for  he  alone 
hath  the  power.  And  this  humilite  schal  ben  in 
herte,  and  in  signe  outward ;  for  right  as  he  hath 
humilite  to  God  in  his  herte,  right  so  schulde  he 
humble  his  body  out- ward  to  the  prest,  that  sittith 
in  Goddes  place.  For  which  in  no  manere,  sith 
that  Crist  is  soverayn,  and  the  prest  is  his  mene 
and  mediatour  bctwix  Crist  and  the  synnere,  and 
the  synner  is  the  lasse  as  by  way  of  resoun,  thanne 
schulde  nought  the  confessour  sitte  as  lowe  as  the 
synnere,  but  the  synnere  schulde  kncle  biforn  him 
or  at  his  feet,  but  if  maladye  distourbid  it;  for 
he  schal  take  no  keep  who  sittith  there,  but  in 
whos  place  that  he  sitteth.  A  man  that  hath 
trespassed  to  a  lord,  and  comcth  for  to  axe  him  of 
mercy  and  to  maken  his  accord,  and  settith  him 
doun  anoon  by  the  lord,  men  wolde  holde  him 
outrageous,  and  not  worthy  so  soone  for  to  have 
mercy  ne  remissioun.  The  thridde  signe  is,  that 
thy  schrifte  schulde  be  ful  of  teeris,  if  men  may 
wepe ;  and  if  he  may  not  wepe  with  his  bodily 
eyen,  let  him  wepe  with  his  herte.  Such  was  the 
confessioun  of  seint  Peter;  for  after  that  he  hadde 
forsake  Jhesu  Crist,  ho  wentc  out  and  wepte  ful 
bitterly.    The  ferthe  signe  is,  that  he  lettc  nought 


-THE   PERSONES   TALE.  359 

for  schame  to  schnjve  him  and  to  schewen  his 
eonfessioun.  Such  was  the  confessioun  of  Mag- 
daleyn,  that  nc  sparede  for  no  schame  of  hem  that 
were  at  the  festc  to  go  to  oure  Lord  Jhcsu  Crist 
and  byknowe  to  him  hire  synnc.  The  fifto  signo 
is,  that  a  man  or  a  womman  be  obeisaunt  to  re- 
scey\'e  the  penaunce  that  him  is  enjoyned.  For 
certis  Jhesu  Crist  for  the  gultes  of  oon  man  was 
obedient  to  his  deth. 

The  other  condicioun  of  verray  confessioun  is, 
that  it  hastily  be  doon  ;  for  eertes,  if  a  man  had  a 
dedly  wounde,  ever  the  lenger  that  he  tariede  to 
warisch  himself,  the  more  wolde  it  corrupte  and 
haste  him  to  his  deth,  and  eek  the  wounde  wolde 
be  the  worse  to  hele.  And  right  so  fareth  synne, 
that  long  time  is  in  a  man  unschewed.  Certes  a 
man  oughte  soone  schewe  his  sjamc  for  many 
causes;  as  for  drede  of  deth,  that  cometh  sodeinly, 
and  he  ne  is  not  certeyn  what  tyme  it  schal  come, 
or  ben  in  Avhat  place  ;  and  eek  the  drecehyng  of  oon 
synne  draweth  another;  and  eek  the  lenger  he 
tarieth,  the  ferther  is  he  from  Crist.  And  if  he 
abyde  unto  his  lasts  day,  skarsly  may  he  schrive 
him  or  remembre  him  of  his  synncs,  or  repente 
hym  for  the  grevous  malady  of  his  deth.  And  for 
as  moche  as  he  hath  not  in  his  hf  herkcned  Jhesu 
Crist,  whan  he  hath  spoken,  he  schal  crien  to 
Jhesu  Crist  at  his  laste  day,  and  scarsly  wol  he 
herken  him.  And  undei'stonde  that  this  con- 
dicioun moste  have  foure  thinges.  First  thy 
schrifte  moste  ben  purveyed  byforn,  and  avyscd, 
for  wikkod  haste  doth  no  profyt ;  and  that  a  man 
can  sehryve  him  of  his  synnes,  be  it  of  pride  or  of 


360  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

envye,  and  so  forth  allc  the  spices  and  the  circum- 
staunccs ;  and  that  he  have  comprehendid  in  his 
mynde  the  nombre  and  the  gretnes  of  his  synne, 
and  how  longe  that  he  hath  lei/n  in  synne  ;  and  eek 
that  he  be  contrit  of  his  sinnes,  and  in  stedefast 
purpos  (by  the  grace  of  God)  never  eft  to  falle  in 
synne ;  and  eek  that  he  drede  and  countrewayte 
himself,  and  that  he  flee  the  occasiouns  of  synne, 
to  whiche  he  is  enclyned.  Also  that  thou  schalt 
schrive  the  of  aUe  thin  synnes  to  oon  man,  and 
nat  a  parcel  to  oon  man,  and  a  parcel  to  another 
man ;  that  is,  understonde,  in  cntent  to  parte  thy 
.  confessioun  as  for  schame  or  drede,  for  it  nys  but 
strangelyng  of  thy  soule.  For  ccrtes,  Jhesu  Crist 
is  enterely  al  good,  in  him  is  noon  imperfecicoun, 
and  therforc  outher  he  foryiveth  al  parfitely,  or 
elles  never  a  del.  I  say  nought,  if  thou  be  assigned 
to  thy  penitcncere  for  ccrtein  synne,  that  thou  art 
bounde  to  schewe  him  al  the  rcmenaunt  of  thy 
synnes,  of  whiche  thou  hast  ben  schryven  of  thy 
curate,  but-if  it  like  the  of  thin  humilite ;  this  is 
no  departyng  of  schrifte.  Ne  I  ne  say  not,  there 
as  I  speke  of  divisoun  of  confessioun,  that  if  thou 
have  licence  to  sehryvc  the  to  a  discret  and  to  an 
honest  prest,  wher  the  likith,  and  eek  by  the 
licence  of  thy  curate,  that  thou  ne  maist  wel 
schrive  the  to  him  of  alio  thyn  synnes ;  but  let 
no  synne  be  byhindc  untold  as  fer  as  thou  hast 
remembraunce.  And  whan  thou  schalt  the  schrive 
to  thi  curate,  telle  him  eeke  al  thy  synne  that 
thou  hast  doo  sith  thou  Avere  last  i-schryvc. 
This  is  no  wikkid  entent  of  divisioun  of  schrifte. 
Also  thy  verrey  schrifte  askith  certeyn  condi- 


THE   PERSONES   TALE.  361 

ciouns.  First,  that  thou  schrive  the  by  thy  fre 
wille,  nought  constrej-ned,  ne  for  schame  of  folk, 
ne  for  maladye,  or  such  thing ;  for  it  is  resoun, 
that  he  that  trespassith  with  his  fre  wille,  that  by 
his  fre  wille  he  confesse  his  trespas  ;  and  that  noon 
other  man  schal  telle  hissynne  but  himself;  nc  he 
schal  not  naye  it  or  denye  his  synne,  ne  wraththe 
him  with  the  prest  for  his  amonestynge  to  lete 
synne.  The  secounde  condicioun  is,  that  thy 
schrifte  be  laweful,  that  is  to  sayn,  that  thou  that 
schrivest  the,  and  eek  the  prest  that  herith  thy 
confessioun,  ben  verrayly  in  the  feith  of  holy 
chirche,  and  that  a  man  be  nought  despaired  of 
the  mercy  of  Jhesu  Crist,  as  Caym  or  Judas.  And 
eek  a  man  moot  accuse  himself  of  his  owns  tres- 
pas and  not  another ;  but  he  schal  blame  and  wite 
himself  and  hisoughne  malice  of  his  synne,  and  noon 
other.  But  natheless,  if  that  another  man  be  oc- 
casioun  or  ellis  cnticer  of  his  synne,  or  that  the 
estate  of  a  persone  be  such  thurgh  which  his  synne 
aggreggith,  or  elles  that  he  may  not  playnly 
schryve  hym  but  he  telle  the  person  with  which 
he  hath  synned,  thanne  may  he  telle  it,  so  that  his 
entent  be  nought  to  bakbyte  the  persone,  but  oonly 
to  declare  his  confcssioim. 

Thow  schalt  nought  eke  make  no  lesyng  in  thy 
confessioun  for  humilite,  paraventure  to  sayn  that 
thou  hast  don  synnes  of  whiche  thou  were  never 
gulty  ;  as  seint  Augustyn  saith,  if  thou  bycause  of 
humilite  makest  lesynges  on  thiself,  though  thou 
were  not  in  synne  biforn,  yit  art  thou  thanne  in 
synne  thurgh  thy  lesynges.  Thou  most  also  schewe 
thy  synne  by  thyn  oughne  proper  mouth,  but  thou 


3G2  THE   CANTERBURT   TALES. 

woxe  dorabe,  and  not  by  no  lettre ;  for  that  thou 
hast  don  the  synne,  thou  schalt  have  the  schame 
of  the  confessioun.  Thou  schalt  noughtc  pcyntc 
thy  confessioun,  by  faire  subtil  wordes,  to  cover 
the  more  thy  synne ;  for  thanne  bigilist  thou  thi- 
self,  and  not  the  prcst ;  thou  moste  telle  it  platlj^ 
be  it  never  so  foul  ne  so  horrible.  Thou  schalt 
cck  schrive  the  to  a  prcst  that  is  discrete  to  coun- 
saile  the ;  and  thou  schalt  nought  schryve  the  for 
vcinncglorie,  ne  for  j-pocrisie,  ne  for  no  cause  but 
only  for  the  chute  of  Jhesu  Crist  and  the  hele  of 
thy  soule.  Thou  schalt  not  eek  renne  to  the  prest 
sodeinly,  to  telle  him  lightly  thy  synne,  as  who 
tellith  a  tale  or  a  jape,  but  avysily  and  with  gret 
devocioun ;  and  generally  schrive  the  ofte ;  if 
thou  ofte  falle,  ofte  thou  arise  by  confessioun. 
xind  though  thou  schryve  the  ofter  than  oones  of 
synne  of  which  thou  hast  ben  schriven,  it  is  the 
more  merite ;  and,  as  saith  seint  Augustyn,  thou 
schalt  have  the  more  lightly  relessyng  and  grace 
of  God,  bothe  of  synne  and  of  payne.  And  certes 
oones  a  yer  atte  lest  way  it  is  laweful  to  be 
houselyd,  for  sothely  oones  a  yer  alle  thinges  in 
the  erthe  renovelen. 

DE  TEETIA  PAETE  PENITENTI^. 

Now  have  I  told  of  verray  confessioun,  that  is 
the  secoundc  partye  of  penitence.  The  thridde 
partye  of  penitence  is  satisfaccioun,  and  that 
stondith  generally  in  almesdede  and  bodily  peyne. 
Now  ben  ther  thre  maner  of  almesdede ;  contri- 
cioun  of  herte,  where  a  man  offereth  himself  to 
God ;  the  secounde  is,  to  have  pitc  of  the  defauto 


THE   PERSO^'ES   TALE.  363 

of  his  neighebor  ;  the  thridde  is,  in  yeving  of  good 
counseil  and  comfort,  gostly  and  bodily,  where 
men  han  neede,  and  namely  in  sustenauncc  of 
mennes  foode.  And  take  keep  that  a  man  hath 
neede  of  tkise  thinges  generaly,  he  hath  nede  of 
fode,  of  clothing,  and  of  herberwc,  he  hath  neede 
of  charitable  counseil  and  visityng  in  prisoun  and 
malady,  and  sepulture  of  his  dede  body.  And  if 
thou  may  not  visite  the  needeful  with  thy  persone, 
visite  by  thy  message  and  by  thy  yiftes.  These 
ben  general  almesscs  or  werkes  of  charite,  of  hem 
that  han  temporal  riches  or  discrecioun  in  coun- 
selyngc.  Of  these  werkes  schalt  thou  hieren  at 
the  day  of  doom. 

This  almes  schalt  thou  doon  of  thin  oughne  pro- 
pur  thinges,  and  hastily,  and  prively  if  thou  maist ; 
but  natheles,  if  thou  maist  not  do  it  prively,  thou 
schalt  nought  forbere  to  do  almes,  though  men  se 
it,  so  that  it  be  nought  don  for  thank  of  the  world, 
but  oonly  for  thonk  of  Jhesu  Crist.  For,  as  wit- 
nessith  seint  Mathewe,  c"  v'°,  a  cite  may  not  ben 
hid  that  is  set  on  a  mountayn,  nc  non  men  lightc;i 
not  a  lanterne  and  put  it  under  a  buisschcl,  but  men 
sette  it  on  a  candcl-stikke,  to  lightc  the  men  in 
the  hous  ;  right  so  schal  yourc  light  lighten  biforn 
men,  that  they  may  se  youre  goode  werkes,  and 
glorifien  youre  Fader  that  is  in  heven. 

Now  as  to  spekc  of  bodily  peyne,  it  is  in 
prayero,  in  Avakinges,  in  fastynges,  in  vertuous 
tcchinges.  Of  orisouns  ye  schul  understonde, 
that  orisouns  or  prayercs,  is  for  to  seyn,  a  pitous 
wil  of  hcrte,  that  redressith  it  in  God,  and  expres- 
sith  it  by  word  out- ward,  to  remoice  harmcs,  and 


oCA  TlIi:  CANTERBURY  TALES. 

to  have  thinges  espirituel  and  durable,  and  som 
tj-mc  temporel  thinges.  Of  whiche  orisouns,  certes 
in  the  orisoim  of  the  Pater-noster  hath  cure  Lord 
Jhcsu  Crist  enclosed  most  thinges.  Certis  it  is 
privileged  of  thre  thinges  in  his  dignite,  for  whiche 
it  is  more  digno  than  any  other  prayer  ;  for  Jhesu 
Crist  himself  maked  it ;  and  it  is  schort,  for  it 
schuldc  be  cond  the  more  lightly,  and  for  to  with- 
holde  it  the  more  esily  in  herte,  and  helpo  him- 
selfc  the  oftere  with  this  orisoun,  and  for  a  man 
schuldc  be  the  lasse  wcry  to  say  it,  and  for  a  man 
may  not  excuse  him  to  lerne  it,  it  is  so  schort  and 
so  easy ;  and  for  it  comprehendith  in  itself  alia 
goode  prayeres.  The  exposicioun  of  this  holy 
praier,  that  is  so  excellent  and  so  digne,  I  bitake 
to  these  ma^'stres  of  theology,  save  thus  moche 
wol  I  sayn,  whan  thou  prayest  that  God  schulde 
foryive  the  thy  gultcs  as  thou  foryivest  hem  that 
they  gulten  to  the,  be  ful  wcl  war  tliat  thou  be 
not  out  of  charite.  This  holy  orisoun  amenisith 
eek  venial  synne,  and  therfore  it  appendith  spe- 
cially to  penitence. 

This  praier  moste  be  trewely  sayd,  and  in  ver- 
ray  faith,  and  that  men  praye  to  God  ordinatly, 
discretlj',  and  devout!}^ ;  and  alway  a  man  schuldc 
putte  his  wille  to  be  subject  to  the  wille  of  God. 
Tliis  orisoun  moste  eek  be  sayd  with  greet  hum- 
blesse  and  ful  pure,  and  honestly,  and  nought  to 
the  annoyaunce  of  eny  man  or  womman.  It  most 
eek  be  continued  with  the  werkis  of  charite.  Hit 
avaylith  agayns  the  vices  of  the  soule ;  for,  as 
seith  scint  Jerom,  by  fastyng  ben  saved  the  vices 
ofjiessh,  and  hij  iwaijerc  the  vices  of  the  soide. 


THE   PEESONES   TALE.  365 

After  this  thou  schalt  understondo,  that  bodily 
peyne  stant  in  wakyng.  For  Jhesu  Crist  saith, 
Avakith  and  prayeth,  that  ye  ne  entrc  not  into 
temptacioun.  Ye  schul  understonde  also,  that 
fastynge  stent  in  thre  thinges,  in  forbering  of 
bodily  mete  and  drink,  and  in  forberyng  of  worldly 
jolite,  and  in  forbering  of  worldly  synne ;  this  is 
to  sayn,  that  a  man  schal  kepc  him  fro  dedly  synne 
in  al  that  he  may. 

And  thou  schalt  understonde  eek,  that  God  or- 
deynede  fastyng,  and  to  fastyng  appurteynen  fouro 
thinges :  largesce  to  pover  folk,  giadnes  of  hcrt 
espirituel :  not  to  ben  angry  ne  annoyed  ne  grucche 
for  he  fastith ;  and  also  resonable  hour  for  to  ete 
by  mesure,  that  is  to  sayn,  a  man  schulde  not  ete 
in  untyme,  ne  sitte  the  lenger  at  his  mele,  for  he 
fastith. 

Thanne  sehal  thou  understonde,  that  bodily 
peyne  stant  in  discipline,  or  teehing,  by  word,  or 
by  writyng,  or  by  ensample.  Also  in  weryng  of 
heires  or  of  stamyn  or  of  haberjeouns  on  her  naked 
flcisch  for  Cristes  sake,  and  suche  maner  penaunce ; 
but  ware  the  wel  that  such  maner  penaunce  of 
thyn  fleissh  make  nought  thin  herte  bitter  or 
angry,  or  anoycd  of  thiself ;  for  better  is  to  cast 
away  thin  hayrc  than  for  to  caste  away  the  swet- 
nes  of  oure  Lord  Jhesu  Crist.  And  therfore  seith 
seint  Poule,  clothe  yow,  as  thay  that  ben  chosen 
of  God  in  herte,  of  misericorde,  debonairete,  suf- 
feraunec,  and  such  maner  of  clothing,  of  the  which 
Jhesu  Crist  is  more  appayed  than  of  haires  or  of 
hauberkis. 

Than  is  discipline  eek  in  knokkyng  on  the  brest, 


3G0  THE   CANTERBURY   TALES. 

in  seourgyng  with  yerdes,  in  knelynges,  in  tribu- 
laciouns,  in  suffring  paciently  wronges  that  ben 
doon  to  him  and  eek  in  pacient  suffcraunce  of 
maledics,  or  Icsyng  of  worldly  eatel,  or  of  v/if,  or 
of  child,  or  of  othir  frcndcs. 

Thanne  schalt  thou  understonde  whiche  thingcs 
destourben  penaimce,  and  this  is  in  foure  thingcs  ; 
that  is  drede,  schame,  hope,  and  wanhopc,  that  is, 
dcspcracioun.  And  for  to  speke  first  of  dredo,  for 
which  he  wenctli  that  ho  may  sufFrc  no  pcnaunco, 
ther  agayns  is  rcmcdyo  for  to  thinkc  that  bodily 
pcnaunce  is  but  schort  and  litel  at  the  regard  of 
the  pcyno  of  hcllc,  that  is  so  cruel  and  so  long,  that 
it  lastith  withouten  ende. 

Now  agains  the  schame  that  a  man  hath  to 
schryve  him,  and  namely  these  ypocrites,  that 
wolde  be  holde  so  parfyt  that  thay  have  no  neede 
to  schryve  hem ;  agayns  that  schame  schulde  a 
man  thinke,  that  by  way  of  resoun  he  that  hath 
not  ben  aschamcd  to  do  foule  thinges,  certis  him 
oughte  not  be  aschamed  to  doon  fcire  thinges  and 
goode  thinges,  and  that  is  confcssioun,  A  man 
scholde  cek  thinke,  that  God  seeth  and  hnoiveth, 
alle  thy  thoughtes,  and  thy  werkes ;  to  him  may 
no  thing  be  hyd  ne  covered.  Men  schulde  eek 
remembre  hem  of  the  schame  that  is  to  come  at 
the  day  of  doom,  to  hem  that  ben  nought  peni- 
tent and  schriven  in  this  present  lif ;  for  alle  the 
creatures  in  heven  and  in  erthe,  and  in  helle, 
schuln  seen  apertly  al  that  they  hydith  in  this 
world. 

Now  for  to  speke  of  hem  that  ben  so  negligent 


THE   PERSONES   TALE.  367 

and  slowo  to  schry\'e  hem ;  it  stant  in  tuo 
maneres.  That  oon  is,  that  he  hopith  for  to  lyve 
longe,  and  for  to  purehaee  moche  riches  for  his 
delyt,  and  thanne  he  wol  schrive  him ;  and,  as  he 
saith,  he  may,  as  him  semith,  tymcly  y-nough 
come  to  schrifte  ;  another  is,  of  the  surqiiidric  that 
he  hath  in  Cristas  mercy.  Agains  the  firste  vice, 
he  schal  thinke  that  oure  hf  is  in  no  sikerncssc, 
and  eek  that  al  the  riches  in  this  world  ben  in  ad- 
venture, and  passen  as  a  schadowc  on  the  wal ; 
and,  as  saith  seint  Gregory,  that  it  apperteyncth 
to  the  grete  rightwisnes  of  God,  that  never  sehal 
the  peyne  stynte  of  hem,  that  never  wolde  with- 
drawe  hem  fro  synne  her  thankes,  but  ay  continue 
in  synne ;  for  thilke  perpetuel  wille  to  doon  synne 
schul  thay  have  perpetuel  peyne. 

"VVanhope  is  in  tuo  maneres.  The  firste  wan- 
hope  is,  in  the  mercy  of  Crist ;  that  other  is,  that 
thay  thinke  thay  mighte  nought  longe  persever  in 
goodnesse.  The  firste  wanhope  cometh  of  that  he 
demyth  that  he  hath  synned  so  highly  and  so  ofte, 
and  so  longe  layn  in  synne,  that  he  sehal  not  be 
saved.  Certis  ayens  that  cursed  wanhope  schulde 
he  thenke,  that  the  passioun  of  Jhesu  Crist  is  more 
strong  for  to  nnbynde,  than  synne  is  strong  for  to 
bynde.  Agains  the  secounde  wanhope  he  sehal 
thinke,  that  als  ofte  as  he  fallitli,  he  may  arise 
agayn  by  penitence;  and  though  he  never  so 
longe  have  leyn  in  synne,  the  mercy  of  Crist  is 
alway  redy  to  rcsceyve  him  to  mercy.  Agains 
the  wanhope  that  he  demeth  07'  he  thinketh  he 
schulde  not  longe  persevere  in  o-oodnesse,  he  schal 


368  THE   CANTERBURY    TALES. 

thinke  that  the  febles  of  the  devel  may  no  thing 
doon,  but  men  wol  suffre  him ;  and  eok  he  schal 
have  strengthe  of  the  help  of  God,  and  of  al  holy 
chirche,  and  of  the  protcccioun  of  aungels,  if  him 
list. 

Thanne  schal  men  understonde,  what  is  the 
fruyt  of  penaunce ;  and  after  the  word  of  Jhesu 
Crist,  hit  is  the  endeles  blisse  of  h'even,  ther  joj-e 
hath  no  contrariete  of  m^o  ne  of  penaunce  ne  gre- 
vanee  ;  ther  alle  harmes  ben  passed  of  this  present 
lif;  ther  as  is  the  sikernesse  fro  the  peyne  of 
helle  ;  ther  as  is  the  MisfuUe  companie  that  rejoysen 
hem  evermore  everych  of  otheres  joye  ;  there  as  the 
body  of  man,  that  ivhilom  teas  foule  and  derh,  is 
inore  clere  than  the  sonne ;  ther  as  the  body  of 
man  that  whilom  was  seek  and  frel,  feble  and 
mortal,  is  immortal,  and  so  strong  and  so  hool, 
that  ther  may  no  thing  empeire  it ;  ther  nys  ney- 
ther  honger,  ne  thurst,  ne  colde,  but  every  soule 
replenisched  with  the  sight  of  the  parfyt  knowyng 
of  God.  This  blisful  regne  may  men  purchace  by 
poverte  espirituel,  and  the  glorie  by  lowenes,  the 
plente  of  joye  by  hunger  and  thurst,  and  reste  by 
travaile,  and  the  lif  by  deth  and  mortificacioun  of 
synne ;  to  th'dhe  lyf  he  us  hrynge,  that  boiighte  «s 
icith  his  2^i'£clous  Mode.     Amen. 

PEECES    DE    CHATJCEEES. 

Now  pray  I  to  yow  alle  that  heren  this  litel 
tretis  or  reden  it,  that  if  ther  be  any  thing  in  it  that 
liketh  hem,  that  therof  thay  may  thanke  oure  Lord 
Jhesu  Crist,  of  whom  procedith  alle  witte  and  al 


THE   PERSONES   TALE.  369 

goodnes ;  and  if  thcr  be  eny  thing  that  displesith 
hem,  I  pray  hem  that  thaj  arette  it  to  the  de- 
faute  of  myn  unconnyng,  and  not  to  my  willc,  that 
wolde  fayn  have  sayd  better  if  I  hadde  connyng ; 
for  the  book  saith,  al  that  is  writen  for  oure  doc- 
trine is  writen,  and  that  is  mjm  entent,  TFAerfore 
I  biseke  yow  mekely  for  the  mercy  of  God  that  yo 
praye  for  me,  that  God  have  mercy  on  me  and  for- 
yeve  me  my  giltes,  and  nameliche  of  my  transla- 
ciouns  and  endityng  in  worldly  vanitees,  whiche  I 
revoke  in  my  retracciouns,  as  is  the  book  of  Troyles. 
the  book  also  of  Fame,  the  book  of  twenty-five 
Ladies,  the  book  of  the  Duchesses,  the  book  of  scint 
Valentines  day  and  of  tlie  Parliment  of  briddes, 
the  Tales  of  Cauntui'bury,  alio  thilke  that  sounen 
into  synne,  the  book  of  the  Leo,  and  many  other 
bokes,  if  thay  Avere  in  my  mynde  or  rcmembraunce. 
and  many  a  song  and  many  a  leceherous  lay,  of  the 
whieho  Crist  for  his  grete  mercy  foryive  me  tlic 
synnes.  Bat  of  the  translaeioun  of  Boce  de  con- 
solaeioun,  and  other  bokes  of  consolacioun  and  of 
legend  of  lyves  of  seints,  and  Omelies,  and  morali- 
tees,  and  of  devocioun,  that  thankc  I  oure  Lord 
Jhesu  Crist,  and  his  moder,  and  alle  the  seintes  in 
hevcn,  bisekyng  hem  that  thay  fro  hennj-sforth 
unto  my  lyves  ende  sende  me  grace  to  biwayle  my 
gultes,  and  to  studien  to  the  savacioun  of  my  soulo. 
and  graunto  me  grace  and  space  of  verray  repen- 
taimee,  penitence,  confessioun,  and  satisfaccioun, 
to  don  in  this  present  lif,  thurgh  the  benigne  grace 
of  him,  that  is  king  of  kynges  and  prest  of  alle 
prestis,  that  bought  us  with  his  precious  blood  of 

VOL.  III.  B  B 


370  THE   CANTERBURY    TALES. 

his  hert,  so  that  I  mooto  be  oon  of  hem  at  the 
day  of  doom  that  schal  be  saved ;  qui  cum  P(dre 
ct  Sjnritu  Saucto  vivis  et  reynas  Deusper  omnia  secnla. 
Amen. 


END  OF  VOL,  irr. 


'h'l 


t'lilSWICK    THKSS: PRINTED    BY    WIllTTINCIIAM    ANDWILF.INS, 

lUOKS    COunT,    CIIANCI^Ry    LANJi, 


A^n^'r, 


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JAUnfii 


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