Part 9

"Here may ye see that dreames be to dread.
And certes in the same book I read,
Right in the nexte chapter after this
(I gabbe* not, so have I joy and bliss),
*talk idly
Two men that would, have passed over sea,
For certain cause, into a far country,
If that the wind not hadde been contrary,
That made them in a city for to tarry,
That stood full merry upon an haven side;
But on a day, against the even-tide,
The wind gan change, and blew right *as them lest.* *as they
wished*
Jolly and glad they wente to their rest,
And caste* them full early for to sail.
*resolved
But to the one man fell a great marvail
That one of them, in sleeping as he lay,
He mette* a wondrous dream, against the day:
*dreamed
He thought a man stood by his bedde's side,
And him commanded that he should abide;
And said him thus; 'If thou to-morrow wend,
Thou shalt be drown'd; my tale is at an end.'
He woke, and told his follow what he mette,
And prayed him his voyage for to let;*
*delay
As for that day, he pray'd him to abide.
His fellow, that lay by his bedde's side,
Gan for to laugh, and scorned him full fast.
'No dream,' quoth he,'may so my heart aghast,*
*frighten
That I will lette* for to do my things.*
*delay
I sette not a straw by thy dreamings,
For swevens* be but vanities and japes.** *dreams
**jokes,deceits
Men dream all day of owles and of apes,
And eke of many a maze* therewithal; *wild
imagining
Men dream of thing that never was, nor shall.
But since I see, that thou wilt here abide,
And thus forslothe* wilfully thy tide,** *idle away
**time
God wot, *it rueth me;* and have good day.' *I am sorry
for it*
And thus he took his leave, and went his way.
But, ere that he had half his course sail'd,
I know not why, nor what mischance it ail'd,
But casually* the ship's bottom rent, *by
accident
And ship and man under the water went,
In sight of other shippes there beside
That with him sailed at the same tide.

"And therefore, faire Partelote so dear,
By such examples olde may'st thou lear,*
*learn
That no man shoulde be too reckeless
Of dreames, for I say thee doubteless,
That many a dream full sore is for to dread.
Lo, in the life of Saint Kenelm <15> I read,
That was Kenulphus' son, the noble king
Of Mercenrike, <16> how Kenelm mette a thing.
A little ere he was murder'd on a day,
His murder in his vision he say.*
*saw
His norice* him expounded every deal** *nurse
**part
His sweven, and bade him to keep* him well
*guard
For treason; but he was but seven years old,
And therefore *little tale hath he told* *he attached
little
Of any dream, so holy was his heart.
significance to*
By God, I hadde lever than my shirt
That ye had read his legend, as have I.
Dame Partelote, I say you truely,
Macrobius, that wrote the vision
In Afric' of the worthy Scipion, <17>
Affirmeth dreames, and saith that they be
'Warnings of thinges that men after see.
And furthermore, I pray you looke well
In the Old Testament, of Daniel,
If he held dreames any vanity.
Read eke of Joseph, and there shall ye see
Whether dreams be sometimes (I say not all)
Warnings of thinges that shall after fall.
Look of Egypt the king, Dan Pharaoh,
His baker and his buteler also,
Whether they felte none effect* in dreams.
*significance
Whoso will seek the acts of sundry remes*
*realms
May read of dreames many a wondrous thing.
Lo Croesus, which that was of Lydia king,
Mette he not that he sat upon a tree,
Which signified he shoulde hanged be? <18>
Lo here, Andromache, Hectore's wife, <19>
That day that Hector shoulde lose his life,
She dreamed on the same night beforn,
How that the life of Hector should be lorn,*
*lost
If thilke day he went into battaile;
She warned him, but it might not avail;
He wente forth to fighte natheless,
And was y-slain anon of Achilles.
But thilke tale is all too long to tell;
And eke it is nigh day, I may not dwell.
Shortly I say, as for conclusion,
That I shall have of this avision
Adversity; and I say furthermore,
That I ne *tell of laxatives no store,* *hold
laxatives
For they be venomous, I wot it well; of no
value*
I them defy,* I love them never a del.** *distrust
**whit

"But let us speak of mirth, and stint* all this;
*cease
Madame Partelote, so have I bliss,
Of one thing God hath sent me large* grace;
liberal
For when I see the beauty of your face,
Ye be so scarlet-hued about your eyen,
I maketh all my dreade for to dien,
For, all so sicker* as In principio,<20>
*certain
Mulier est hominis confusio.<21>
Madam, the sentence* of of this Latin is,
*meaning
Woman is manne's joy and manne's bliss.
For when I feel at night your softe side, --
Albeit that I may not on you ride,
For that our perch is made so narrow, Alas!
I am so full of joy and of solas,*
*delight
That I defy both sweven and eke dream."
And with that word he flew down from the beam,
For it was day, and eke his hennes all;
And with a chuck he gan them for to call,
For he had found a corn, lay in the yard.
Royal he was, he was no more afear'd;
He feather'd Partelote twenty time,
And as oft trode her, ere that it was prime.
He looked as it were a grim lion,
And on his toes he roamed up and down;
He deigned not to set his feet to ground;
He chucked, when he had a corn y-found,
And to him ranne then his wives all.
Thus royal, as a prince is in his hall,
Leave I this Chanticleer in his pasture;
And after will I tell his aventure.

When that the month in which the world began,
That highte March, when God first maked man,
Was complete, and y-passed were also,
Since March ended, thirty days and two,
Befell that Chanticleer in all his pride,
His seven wives walking him beside,
Cast up his eyen to the brighte sun,
That in the sign of Taurus had y-run
Twenty degrees and one, and somewhat more;
He knew by kind,* and by none other lore,** *nature
**learning
That it was prime, and crew with blissful steven.*
*voice
"The sun," he said, "is clomben up in heaven
Twenty degrees and one, and more y-wis.*
*assuredly
Madame Partelote, my worlde's bliss,
Hearken these blissful birdes how they sing,
And see the freshe flowers how they spring;
Full is mine heart of revel and solace."
But suddenly him fell a sorrowful case;*
*casualty
For ever the latter end of joy is woe:
God wot that worldly joy is soon y-go:
And, if a rhetor* coulde fair indite,
*orator
He in a chronicle might it safely write,
As for *a sov'reign notability* *a thing supremely
notable*
Now every wise man, let him hearken me;
This story is all as true, I undertake,
As is the book of Launcelot du Lake,
That women hold in full great reverence.
Now will I turn again to my sentence.

A col-fox, <22> full of sly iniquity,
That in the grove had wonned* yeares three,
*dwelt
By high imagination forecast,
The same night thorough the hedges brast*
*burst
Into the yard, where Chanticleer the fair
Was wont, and eke his wives, to repair;
And in a bed of wortes* still he lay,
*cabbages
Till it was passed undern <23> of the day,
Waiting his time on Chanticleer to fall:
As gladly do these homicides all,
That in awaite lie to murder men.
O false murd'rer! Rouking* in thy den! *crouching,
lurking
O new Iscariot, new Ganilion! <24>
O false dissimuler, O Greek Sinon,<25>
That broughtest Troy all utterly to sorrow!
O Chanticleer! accursed be the morrow
That thou into thy yard flew from the beams;*
*rafters
Thou wert full well y-warned by thy dreams
That thilke day was perilous to thee.
But what that God forewot* must needes be,
*foreknows
After th' opinion of certain clerkes.
Witness on him that any perfect clerk is,
That in school is great altercation
In this matter, and great disputation,
And hath been of an hundred thousand men.
But I ne cannot *boult it to the bren,* *examine it
thoroughly <26>*
As can the holy doctor Augustine,
Or Boece, or the bishop Bradwardine,<27>
Whether that Godde's worthy foreweeting*
*foreknowledge
*Straineth me needly* for to do a thing
*forces me*
(Needly call I simple necessity),
Or elles if free choice be granted me
To do that same thing, or do it not,
Though God forewot* it ere that it was wrought; *knew in
advance
Or if *his weeting straineth never a deal,* *his knowing
constrains
But by necessity conditionel. not
at all*
I will not have to do of such mattere;
My tale is of a cock, as ye may hear,
That took his counsel of his wife, with sorrow,
To walken in the yard upon the morrow
That he had mette the dream, as I you told.
Womane's counsels be full often cold;* *mischievous,
unwise
Womane's counsel brought us first to woe,
And made Adam from Paradise to go,
There as he was full merry and well at case.
But, for I n'ot* to whom I might displease
*know not
If I counsel of women woulde blame,
Pass over, for I said it in my game.*
*jest
Read authors, where they treat of such mattere
And what they say of women ye may hear.
These be the cocke's wordes, and not mine;
I can no harm of no woman divine.* *conjecture,
imagine
Fair in the sand, to bathe* her merrily,
*bask
Lies Partelote, and all her sisters by,
Against the sun, and Chanticleer so free
Sang merrier than the mermaid in the sea;
For Physiologus saith sickerly,*
*certainly
How that they singe well and merrily. <28>
And so befell that, as he cast his eye
Among the wortes,* on a butterfly,
*cabbages
He was ware of this fox that lay full low.
Nothing *ne list him thenne* for to crow, *he had no
inclination*
But cried anon "Cock! cock!" and up he start,
As man that was affrayed in his heart.
For naturally a beast desireth flee
From his contrary,* if be may it see,
*enemy
Though he *ne'er erst* had soon it with his eye *never
before*
This Chanticleer, when he gan him espy,
He would have fled, but that the fox anon
Said, "Gentle Sir, alas! why will ye gon?
Be ye afraid of me that am your friend?
Now, certes, I were worse than any fiend,
If I to you would harm or villainy.
I am not come your counsel to espy.
But truely the cause of my coming
Was only for to hearken how ye sing;
For truely ye have as merry a steven,*
*voice
As any angel hath that is in heaven;
Therewith ye have of music more feeling,
Than had Boece, or any that can sing.
My lord your father (God his soule bless)
And eke your mother of her gentleness,
Have in mnine house been, to my great ease:*
*satisfaction
And certes, Sir, full fain would I you please.
But, for men speak of singing, I will say,
So may I brooke* well mine eyen tway, *enjoy, possess,
or use
Save you, I hearde never man so sing
As did your father in the morrowning.
Certes it was of heart all that he sung.
And, for to make his voice the more strong,
He would *so pain him,* that with both his eyen *make such an
exertion*
He muste wink, so loud he woulde cryen,
And standen on his tiptoes therewithal,
And stretche forth his necke long and small.
And eke he was of such discretion,
That there was no man, in no region,
That him in song or wisdom mighte pass.
I have well read in Dan Burnel the Ass, <29>
Among his verse, how that there was a cock
That, for* a prieste's son gave him a knock
*because
Upon his leg, while he was young and nice,*
*foolish
He made him for to lose his benefice.
But certain there is no comparison
Betwixt the wisdom and discretion
Of youre father, and his subtilty.
Now singe, Sir, for sainte charity,
Let see, can ye your father counterfeit?"

This Chanticleer his wings began to beat,
As man that could not his treason espy,
So was he ravish'd with his flattery.
Alas! ye lordes, many a false flattour*
*flatterer <30>
Is in your court, and many a losengeour, *
*deceiver <31>
That please you well more, by my faith,
Than he that soothfastness* unto you saith.
*truth
Read in Ecclesiast' of flattery;
Beware, ye lordes, of their treachery.
This Chanticleer stood high upon his toes,
Stretching his neck, and held his eyen close,
And gan to crowe loude for the nonce
And Dan Russel <32> the fox start up at once,
And *by the gorge hente* Chanticleer, *seized by the
throat*
And on his back toward the wood him bare.
For yet was there no man that him pursu'd.
O destiny, that may'st not be eschew'd!*
*escaped
Alas, that Chanticleer flew from the beams!
Alas, his wife raughte* nought of dreams!
*regarded
And on a Friday fell all this mischance.
O Venus, that art goddess of pleasance,
Since that thy servant was this Chanticleer
And in thy service did all his powere,
More for delight, than the world to multiply,
Why wilt thou suffer him on thy day to die?
O Gaufrid, deare master sovereign, <33>
That, when thy worthy king Richard was slain
With shot, complainedest his death so sore,
Why n'had I now thy sentence and thy lore,
The Friday for to chiden, as did ye?
(For on a Friday, soothly, slain was he),
Then would I shew you how that I could plain*
*lament
For Chanticleere's dread, and for his pain.

Certes such cry nor lamentation
Was ne'er of ladies made, when Ilion
Was won, and Pyrrhus with his straighte sword,
When he had hent* king Priam by the beard,
*seized
And slain him (as saith us Eneidos*),<34> *The
Aeneid
As maden all the hennes in the close,*
*yard
When they had seen of Chanticleer the sight.
But sov'reignly* Dame Partelote shright,** *above all
others
Full louder than did Hasdrubale's wife,
**shrieked
When that her husband hadde lost his life,
And that the Romans had y-burnt Carthage;
She was so full of torment and of rage,
That wilfully into the fire she start,
And burnt herselfe with a steadfast heart.
O woeful hennes! right so cried ye,
As, when that Nero burned the city
Of Rome, cried the senatores' wives,
For that their husbands losten all their lives;
Withoute guilt this Nero hath them slain.
Now will I turn unto my tale again;

The sely* widow, and her daughters two, *simple,
honest
Hearde these hennes cry and make woe,
And at the doors out started they anon,
And saw the fox toward the wood is gone,
And bare upon his back the cock away:
They cried, "Out! harow! and well-away!
Aha! the fox!" and after him they ran,
And eke with staves many another man
Ran Coll our dog, and Talbot, and Garland;
And Malkin, with her distaff in her hand
Ran cow and calf, and eke the very hogges
So fear'd they were for barking of the dogges,
And shouting of the men and women eke.
They ranne so, them thought their hearts would break.
They yelled as the fiendes do in hell;
The duckes cried as men would them quell;* *kill,
destroy
The geese for feare flewen o'er the trees,
Out of the hive came the swarm of bees,
So hideous was the noise, ben'dicite!
Certes he, Jacke Straw,<35> and his meinie,*
*followers
Ne made never shoutes half so shrill
When that they woulden any Fleming kill,
As thilke day was made upon the fox.
Of brass they broughte beames* and of box,
*trumpets <36>
Of horn and bone, in which they blew and pooped,*
**tooted
And therewithal they shrieked and they hooped;
It seemed as the heaven shoulde fall

Now, goode men, I pray you hearken all;
Lo, how Fortune turneth suddenly
The hope and pride eke of her enemy.
This cock, that lay upon the fox's back,
In all his dread unto the fox he spake,
And saide, "Sir, if that I were as ye,
Yet would I say (as wisly* God help me),
*surely
'Turn ye again, ye proude churles all;
A very pestilence upon you fall.
Now am I come unto the woode's side,
Maugre your head, the cock shall here abide;
I will him eat, in faith, and that anon.'"
The fox answer'd, "In faith it shall be done:"
And, as he spake the word, all suddenly
The cock brake from his mouth deliverly,*
*nimbly
And high upon a tree he flew anon.
And when the fox saw that the cock was gone,
"Alas!" quoth he, "O Chanticleer, alas!
I have," quoth he, "y-done to you trespass,*
*offence
Inasmuch as I maked you afear'd,
When I you hent,* and brought out of your yard;
*took
But, Sir, I did it in no wick' intent;
Come down, and I shall tell you what I meant.
I shall say sooth to you, God help me so."
"Nay then," quoth he, "I shrew* us both the two,
*curse
And first I shrew myself, both blood and bones,
If thou beguile me oftener than once.
Thou shalt no more through thy flattery
Do* me to sing and winke with mine eye;
*cause
For he that winketh when he shoulde see,
All wilfully, God let him never the."*
*thrive
"Nay," quoth the fox; "but God give him mischance
That is so indiscreet of governance,
That jangleth* when that he should hold his peace."
*chatters

Lo, what it is for to be reckeless
And negligent, and trust on flattery.
But ye that holde this tale a folly,
As of a fox, or of a cock or hen,
Take the morality thereof, good men.
For Saint Paul saith, That all that written is,
*To our doctrine it written is y-wis.* <37> *is surely
written for
Take the fruit, and let the chaff be still. our
instruction*

Now goode God, if that it be thy will,
As saith my Lord, <38> so make us all good men;
And bring us all to thy high bliss. Amen.

Notes to the Nun's Priest's Tale

1. The Tale of the Nun's Priest is founded on the fifth chapter
of an old French metrical "Romance of Renard;" the same story
forming one of the fables of Marie, the translator of the Breton
Lays. (See note 2 to the Prologue to the Franklin's Tale.)
Although Dryden was in error when he ascribed the Tale to
Chaucer's own invention, still the materials on which he had to
operate were out of cornparison more trivial than the result.

2. Tyrwhitt quotes two statutes of Edward III, in which "deys"
are included among the servants employed in agricultural
pursuits; the name seems to have originally meant a servant who
gave his labour by the day, but afterwards to have been
appropriated exclusively to one who superintended or worked
in a dairy.

3. Orgon: here licentiously used for the plural, "organs" or
"orgons," corresponding to the plural verb "gon" in the next
line.

4. Horloge: French, "clock."

5. Embattell'd: indented on the upper edge like the battlements
of a castle.

6. My lefe is fare in land: This seems to have been the refrain
of
some old song, and its precise meaning is uncertain. It
corresponds in cadence with the morning salutation of the cock;
and may be taken as a greeting to the sun, which is beloved of
Chanticleer, and has just come upon the earth -- or in the sense
of a more local boast, as vaunting the fairness of his favourite
hen above all others in the country round.

Transcriber's note: Later commentators explain "fare in land" as
"gone abroad" and have identified the song:

My lefe is fare in lond
Alas! Why is she so?
And I am so sore bound
I may not come her to.
She hath my heart in hold
Where ever she ride or go
With true love a thousand-fold.

(Printed in The Athenaeum, 1896, Vol II, p. 566).

7. "Avoi!" is the word here rendered "away!" It was frequently
used in the French fabliaux, and the Italians employ the word
"via!" in the same sense.

8. "Ne do no force of dreams:" "Somnia ne cares;" -- Cato
"De Moribus," 1 ii, dist. 32

9. Centaury: the herb so called because by its virtue the centaur
Chiron was healed when the poisoned arrow of Hercules had
accidentally wounded his foot.

10. Fumetere: the herb "fumitory."

11. Catapuce: spurge; a plant of purgative qualities. To its
name in the text correspond the Italian "catapuzza," and French
"catapuce" -- words the origin of which is connected with the
effects of the plant.

12. Gaitre-berries: dog-wood berries.

13. One of the greatest authors that men read: Cicero, who in
his book "De Divinatione" tells this and the following story,
though in contrary order and with many differences.

14. Haled or hylled; from Anglo-Saxon "helan" hid, concealed

15. Kenelm succeeded his father as king of the Saxon realm of
Mercia in 811, at the age of seven years; but he was slain by his
ambitious aunt Quendrada. The place of his burial was
miraculously discovered, and he was subsequently elevated to
the rank of a saint and martyr. His life is in the English
"Golden
Legend."

16. Mercenrike: the kingdom of Mercia; Anglo-Saxon,
Myrcnarice. Compare the second member of the compound in
the German, "Frankreich," France; "Oesterreich," Austria.

17. Cicero ("De Republica," lib. vi.) wrote the Dream of
Scipio, in which the Younger relates the appearance of the
Elder Africanus, and the counsels and exhortations which the
shade addressed to the sleeper. Macrobius wrote an elaborate
"Commentary on the Dream of Scipio," -- a philosophical
treatise much studied and relished during the Middle Ages.

18. See the Monk's Tale for this story.

19. Andromache's dream will not be found in Homer; It is
related in the book of the fictitious Dares Phrygius, the most
popular authority during the Middle Ages for the history of the
Trojan War.

20. In principio: In the beginning; the first words of Genesis
and
of the Gospel of John.

21. Mulier est hominis confusio: This line is taken from the
same fabulous conference between the Emperor Adrian and the
philosopher Secundus, whence Chaucer derived some of the
arguments in praise of poverty employed in the Wife of Bath's
Tale proper. See note 14 to the Wife of Bath's tale. The
passage transferred to the text is the commencement of a
description of woman. "Quid est mulier? hominis confusio," &c.
("What is Woman? A union with man", &c.)

22. Col-fox: a blackish fox, so called because of its likeness to
coal, according to Skinner; though more probably the prefix has
a reproachful meaning, and is in some way connected with the
word "cold" as, some forty lines below, it is applied to the
prejudicial counsel of women, and as frequently it is used to
describe "sighs" and other tokens of grief, and "cares" or
"anxieties."

23. Undern: In this case, the meaning of "evening" or
"afternoon" can hardly be applied to the word, which must be
taken to signify some early hour of the forenoon. See also note
4 to the Wife of Bath's tale and note 5 to the Clerk's Tale.

24. Ganilion: a traitor. See note 9 to the Shipman's Tale and
note 28 to the Monk's Tale.

25. Greek Sinon: The inventor of the Trojan Horse. See note 14
to the Squire's Tale

26. Boult it from the bren: Examine the matter thoroughly; a
metaphor taken from the sifting of meal, to divide the fine flour
from the bran.

27. Thomas Bradwardine, Archbishop of Canterbury in the
thirteenth century, who wrote a book, "De Causa Dei," in
controversy with Pelagius; and also numerous other treatises,
among them some on predestination.

28. In a popular mediaveal Latin treatise by one Theobaldus,
entitled "Physiologus de Naturis XII. Animalium" ("A
description of the nature of twelve animals"), sirens or
mermaids are described as skilled in song, and drawing unwary
mariners to destruction by the sweetness of their voices.

29. "Nigellus Wireker," says Urry's Glossary, "a monk and
precentor of Canterbury, wrote a Latin poem intituled
'Speculum Speculorum,' ('The mirror of mirrors') dedicated to
William Longchamp, Bishop of Ely, and Lord Chancellor;
wherein, under the fable of an Ass (which he calls 'Burnellus')
that desired a longer tail, is represented the folly of such as
are
not content with their own condition. There is introduced a tale
of a cock, who having his leg broke by a priest's son (called
Gundulfus) watched an opportunity to be revenged; which at
last presented itself on this occasion: A day was appointed for
Gundulfus's being admitted into holy orders at a place remote
from his father's habitation; he therefore orders the servants to
call him at first cock-crowing, which the cock overhearing did
not crow at all that morning. So Gundulfus overslept himself,
and was thereby disappointed of his ordination, the office being
quite finished before he came to the place." Wireker's satire was
among the most celebrated and popular Latin poems of the
Middle Ages. The Ass was probably as Tyrwhitt suggests,
called "Burnel" or "Brunel," from his brown colour; as, a little
below, a reddish fox is called "Russel."

30. Flattour: flatterer; French, "flatteur."

31. Losengeour: deceiver, cozener; the word had analogues in
the French "losengier," and the Spanish "lisongero." It is
probably connected with "leasing," falsehood; which has been
derived from Anglo-Saxon "hlisan," to celebrate -- as if it meant
the spreading of a false renown

32. Dan Russel: Master Russet; a name given to the fox, from
his reddish colour.

33. Geoffrey de Vinsauf was the author of a well-known
mediaeval treatise on composition in various poetical styles of
which he gave examples. Chaucer's irony is therefore directed
against some grandiose and affected lines on the death of
Richard I., intended to illustrate the pathetic style, in which
Friday is addressed as "O Veneris lachrymosa dies" ("O tearful
day of Venus").

34. "Priamum altaria ad ipsa trementem
Traxit, et in multo lapsantem sanguine nati
Implicuitque comam laeva, dextraque coruscum
Extulit, ac lateri capulo tenus abdidit ensem.
Haec finis Priami fatorum."
("He dragged Priam trembling to his own altar, slipping on the
blood of his child; He took his hair in his left hand, and with
the
right drew the flashing sword, and hid it to the hilt [in his
body].
Thus an end was made of Priam")
-- Virgil, Aeneid. ii. 550.

35. Jack Straw: The leader of a Kentish rising, in the reign of
Richard II, in 1381, by which the Flemish merchants in London
were great sufferers.

36. Beams: trumpets; Anglo-Saxon, "bema."

37. "All scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is
profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for
instruction in righteousness: that the man of God may be
perfect, throughly furnished unto all good works." -- 2 Tim. iii.
16.

THE EPILOGUE <1>

"Sir Nunne's Priest," our hoste said anon,
"Y-blessed be thy breech, and every stone;
This was a merry tale of Chanticleer.
But by my truth, if thou wert seculere,* *a
layman
Thou wouldest be a treadefowl* aright;
*cock
For if thou have courage as thou hast might,
Thee were need of hennes, as I ween,
Yea more than seven times seventeen.
See, whate brawnes* hath this gentle priest, *muscles,
sinews
So great a neck, and such a large breast
He looketh as a sperhawk with his eyen
Him needeth not his colour for to dyen
With Brazil, nor with grain of Portugale.
But, Sir, faire fall you for your tale'."
And, after that, he with full merry cheer
Said to another, as ye shall hear.

Notes to the Epilogue to the Nun's Priest's Tale

1. The sixteen lines appended to the Tale of the Nun's Priest
seem, as Tyrwhitt observes, to commence the prologue to the
succeeding Tale -- but the difficulty is to determine which that
Tale should be. In earlier editions, the lines formed the opening
of the prologue to the Manciple's Tale; but most of the
manuscripts acknowledge themselves defective in this part, and
give the Nun's Tale after that of the Nun's Priest. In the
Harleian
manuscript, followed by Mr Wright, the second Nun's Tale, and
the Canon's Yeoman's Tale, are placed after the Franklin's tale;
and the sixteen lines above are not found -- the Manciple's
prologue coming immediately after the "Amen" of the Nun's
Priest. In two manuscripts, the last line of the sixteen runs
thus:
"Said unto the Nun as ye shall hear;" and six lines more
evidently forged, are given to introduce the Nun's Tale. All
this
confusion and doubt only strengthen the certainty, and deepen
the regret, that "The Canterbury Tales" were left at Chaucer's,
death not merely very imperfect as a whole, but destitute of
many finishing touches that would have made them complete so
far as the conception had actually been carried into
performance.

THE SECOND NUN'S TALE <1>

The minister and norice* unto vices,
*nurse
Which that men call in English idleness,
The porter at the gate is of delices;*
*delights
T'eschew, and by her contrar' her oppress, --
That is to say, by lawful business,* -- *occupation,
activity
Well oughte we to *do our all intent* *apply
ourselves*
Lest that the fiend through idleness us hent.*
*seize

For he, that with his thousand cordes sly
Continually us waiteth to beclap,*
*entangle, bind
When he may man in idleness espy,
He can so lightly catch him in his trap,
Till that a man be hent* right by the lappe,**
*seize **hem
He is not ware the fiend hath him in hand;
Well ought we work, and idleness withstand.

And though men dreaded never for to die,
Yet see men well by reason, doubteless,
That idleness is root of sluggardy,
Of which there cometh never good increase;
And see that sloth them holdeth in a leas,*
*leash <2>
Only to sleep, and for to eat and drink,
And to devouren all that others swink.*
*labour

And, for to put us from such idleness,
That cause is of so great confusion,
I have here done my faithful business,
After the Legend, in translation
Right of thy glorious life and passion, --
Thou with thy garland wrought of rose and lily,
Thee mean I, maid and martyr, Saint Cecilie.

And thou, thou art the flow'r of virgins all,
Of whom that Bernard list so well to write, <3>
To thee at my beginning first I call;
Thou comfort of us wretches, do me indite
Thy maiden's death, that won through her merite
Th' eternal life, and o'er the fiend victory,
As man may after readen in her story.

Thou maid and mother, daughter of thy Son,
Thou well of mercy, sinful soules' cure,
In whom that God of bounte chose to won;*
*dwell
Thou humble and high o'er every creature,
Thou nobilest, *so far forth our nature,* *as far as our nature
admits*
That no disdain the Maker had of kind,*
*nature
His Son in blood and flesh to clothe and wind.*
*wrap

Within the cloister of thy blissful sides
Took manne's shape th' eternal love and peace,
That of *the trine compass* Lord and guide is *the
trinity*
Whom earth, and sea, and heav'n, *out of release,*
*unceasingly
*Aye hery;* and thou, Virgin wemmeless,* *forever praise*
*immaculate
Bare of thy body, and dweltest maiden pure,
The Creator of every creature.

Assembled is in thee magnificence <4>
With mercy, goodness, and with such pity,
That thou, that art the sun of excellence,
Not only helpest them that pray to thee,
But oftentime, of thy benignity,
Full freely, ere that men thine help beseech,
Thou go'st before, and art their lives' leech.* *healer,
saviour.

Now help, thou meek and blissful faire maid,
Me, flemed* wretch, in this desert of gall; *banished,
outcast
Think on the woman Cananee that said
That whelpes eat some of the crumbes all
That from their Lorde's table be y-fall;<5>
And though that I, unworthy son of Eve,<6>
Be sinful, yet accepte my believe.*
*faith

And, for that faith is dead withoute werkes,
For to worke give me wit and space,
That I be *quit from thennes that most derk is;* *freed from
the most
O thou, that art so fair and full of grace, dark place
(Hell)*
Be thou mine advocate in that high place,
Where as withouten end is sung Osanne,
Thou Christe's mother, daughter dear of Anne.

And of thy light my soul in prison light,
That troubled is by the contagion
Of my body, and also by the weight
Of earthly lust and false affection;
O hav'n of refuge, O salvation
Of them that be in sorrow and distress,
Now help, for to my work I will me dress.

Yet pray I you, that reade what I write, <6>
Forgive me that I do no diligence
This ilke* story subtilly t' indite.
*same
For both have I the wordes and sentence
Of him that at the sainte's reverence
The story wrote, and follow her legend;
And pray you that you will my work amend.

First will I you the name of Saint Cecilie
Expound, as men may in her story see.
It is to say in English, Heaven's lily,<7>
For pure chasteness of virginity;
Or, for she whiteness had of honesty,*
*purity
And green of conscience, and of good fame
The sweete savour, Lilie was her name.

Or Cecilie is to say, the way of blind;<7>
For she example was by good teaching;
Or else Cecilie, as I written find,
Is joined by a manner conjoining
Of heaven and Lia, <7> and herein figuring
The heaven is set for thought of holiness,
And Lia for her lasting business.

Cecilie may eke be said in this mannere,
Wanting of blindness, for her greate light
Of sapience, and for her thewes* clear.
*qualities
Or elles, lo, this maiden's name bright
Of heaven and Leos <7> comes, for which by right
Men might her well the heaven of people call,
Example of good and wise workes all;

For Leos people in English is to say;
And right as men may in the heaven see
The sun and moon, and starres every way,
Right so men ghostly,* in this maiden free,
*spiritually
Sawen of faith the magnanimity,
And eke the clearness whole of sapience,
And sundry workes bright of excellence.

And right so as these philosophers write,
That heav'n is swift and round, and eke burning,
Right so was faire Cecilie the white
Full swift and busy in every good working,
And round and whole in good persevering, <8>
And burning ever in charity full bright;
Now have I you declared *what she hight.* *why she had
her name*

This maiden bright Cecile, as her life saith,
Was come of Romans, and of noble kind,
And from her cradle foster'd in the faith
Of Christ, and bare his Gospel in her mind:
She never ceased, as I written find,
Of her prayere, and God to love and dread,
Beseeching him to keep her maidenhead.

And when this maiden should unto a man
Y-wedded be, that was full young of age,
Which that y-called was Valerian,
And come was the day of marriage,
She, full devout and humble in her corage,*
*heart
Under her robe of gold, that sat full fair,
Had next her flesh y-clad her in an hair.* *garment of
hair-cloth

And while the organs made melody,
To God alone thus in her heart sang she;
"O Lord, my soul and eke my body gie*
*guide
Unwemmed,* lest that I confounded be."
*unblemished
And, for his love that died upon the tree,
Every second or third day she fast',
Aye bidding* in her orisons full fast.
*praying

The night came, and to bedde must she gon
With her husband, as it is the mannere;
And privily she said to him anon;
"O sweet and well-beloved spouse dear,
There is a counsel,* an'** ye will it hear,
*secret **if
Which that right fain I would unto you say,
So that ye swear ye will it not bewray."*
*betray

Valerian gan fast unto her swear
That for no case nor thing that mighte be,
He never should to none bewrayen her;
And then at erst* thus to him saide she; *for the
first time
"I have an angel which that loveth me,
That with great love, whether I wake or sleep,
Is ready aye my body for to keep;

"And if that he may feelen, *out of dread,* *without
doubt*
That ye me touch or love in villainy,
He right anon will slay you with the deed,
And in your youthe thus ye shoulde die.
And if that ye in cleane love me gie,"*
*guide
He will you love as me, for your cleanness,
And shew to you his joy and his brightness."

Valerian, corrected as God wo'ld,
Answer'd again, "If I shall truste thee,
Let me that angel see, and him behold;
And if that it a very angel be,
Then will I do as thou hast prayed me;
And if thou love another man, forsooth
Right with this sword then will I slay you both."

Cecile answer'd anon right in this wise;
"If that you list, the angel shall ye see,
So that ye trow* Of Christ, and you baptise;
*know
Go forth to Via Appia," quoth she,
That from this towne stands but miles three,
And to the poore folkes that there dwell
Say them right thus, as that I shall you tell,

"Tell them, that I, Cecile, you to them sent
To shewe you the good Urban the old,
For secret needes,* and for good intent;
*business
And when that ye Saint Urban have behold,
Tell him the wordes which I to you told
And when that he hath purged you from sin,
Then shall ye see that angel ere ye twin*
*depart

Valerian is to the place gone;
And, right as he was taught by her learning
He found this holy old Urban anon
Among the saintes' burials louting;* *lying
concealed <9>
And he anon, withoute tarrying,
Did his message, and when that he it told,
Urban for joy his handes gan uphold.

The teares from his eyen let he fall;
"Almighty Lord, O Jesus Christ,"
Quoth he, "Sower of chaste counsel, herd* of us all;
*shepherd
The fruit of thilke* seed of chastity
*that
That thou hast sown in Cecile, take to thee
Lo, like a busy bee, withoute guile,
Thee serveth aye thine owen thrall* Cicile,
*servant

"For thilke spouse, that she took *but now,*
*lately*
Full like a fierce lion, she sendeth here,
As meek as e'er was any lamb to owe."
And with that word anon there gan appear
An old man, clad in white clothes clear,
That had a book with letters of gold in hand,
And gan before Valerian to stand.

Valerian, as dead, fell down for dread,
When he him saw; and he up hent* him tho,** *took
**there
And on his book right thus he gan to read;
"One Lord, one faith, one God withoute mo',
One Christendom, one Father of all also,
Aboven all, and over all everywhere."
These wordes all with gold y-written were.

When this was read, then said this olde man,
"Believ'st thou this or no? say yea or nay."
"I believe all this," quoth Valerian,
"For soother* thing than this, I dare well say,
*truer
Under the Heaven no wight thinke may."
Then vanish'd the old man, he wist not where
And Pope Urban him christened right there.

Valerian went home, and found Cecilie
Within his chamber with an angel stand;
This angel had of roses and of lily
Corones* two, the which he bare in hand,
*crowns
And first to Cecile, as I understand,
He gave the one, and after gan he take
The other to Valerian her make.* *mate,
husband

"With body clean, and with unwemmed* thought, *unspotted,
blameless
Keep aye well these corones two," quoth he;
"From Paradise to you I have them brought,
Nor ever more shall they rotten be,
Nor lose their sweet savour, truste me,
Nor ever wight shall see them with his eye,
But he be chaste, and hate villainy.

"And thou, Valerian, for thou so soon
Assented hast to good counsel, also
Say what thee list,* and thou shalt have thy boon."** *wish
**desire
"I have a brother," quoth Valerian tho,*
*then
"That in this world I love no man so;
I pray you that my brother may have grace
To know the truth, as I do in this place."

The angel said, "God liketh thy request,
And bothe, with the palm of martyrdom,
Ye shalle come unto this blissful rest."
And, with that word, Tiburce his brother came.
And when that he the savour undernome*
*perceived
Which that the roses and the lilies cast,
Within his heart he gan to wonder fast;

And said; "I wonder, this time of the year,
Whence that sweete savour cometh so
Of rose and lilies, that I smelle here;
For though I had them in mine handes two,
The savour might in me no deeper go;
The sweete smell, that in my heart I find,
Hath changed me all in another kind."

Valerian said, "Two crownes here have we,
Snow-white and rose-red, that shine clear,
Which that thine eyen have no might to see;
And, as thou smellest them through my prayere,
So shalt thou see them, leve* brother dear,
*beloved
If it so be thou wilt withoute sloth
Believe aright, and know the very troth. "

Tiburce answered, "Say'st thou this to me
In soothness, or in dreame hear I this?"
"In dreames," quoth Valorian, "have we be
Unto this time, brother mine, y-wis
But now *at erst* in truth our dwelling is." *for the
first time*
How know'st thou this," quoth Tiburce; "in what wise?"
Quoth Valerian, "That shall I thee devise*
*describe

"The angel of God hath me the truth y-taught,
Which thou shalt see, if that thou wilt reny*
*renounce
The idols, and be clean, and elles nought."
[And of the miracle of these crownes tway
Saint Ambrose in his preface list to say;
Solemnely this noble doctor dear
Commendeth it, and saith in this mannere

"The palm of martyrdom for to receive,
Saint Cecilie, full filled of God's gift,
The world and eke her chamber gan to weive;*
*forsake
Witness Tiburce's and Cecilie's shrift,*
*confession
To which God of his bounty woulde shift
Corones two, of flowers well smelling,
And made his angel them the crownes bring.

"The maid hath brought these men to bliss above;
The world hath wist what it is worth, certain,
Devotion of chastity to love."] <10>
Then showed him Cecilie all open and plain,
That idols all are but a thing in vain,
For they be dumb, and thereto* they be deave;** *therefore
**deaf
And charged him his idols for to leave.

"Whoso that troweth* not this, a beast he is,"
*believeth
Quoth this Tiburce, "if that I shall not lie."
And she gan kiss his breast when she heard this,
And was full glad he could the truth espy:
"This day I take thee for mine ally."* *chosen
friend
Saide this blissful faire maiden dear;
And after that she said as ye may hear.

"Lo, right so as the love of Christ," quoth she,
"Made me thy brother's wife, right in that wise
Anon for mine ally here take I thee,
Since that thou wilt thine idoles despise.
Go with thy brother now and thee baptise,
And make thee clean, so that thou may'st behold
The angel's face, of which thy brother told."

Tiburce answer'd, and saide, "Brother dear,
First tell me whither I shall, and to what man?"
"To whom?" quoth he, "come forth with goode cheer,
I will thee lead unto the Pope Urban."
"To Urban? brother mine Valerian,"
Quoth then Tiburce; "wilt thou me thither lead?
Me thinketh that it were a wondrous deed.

"Meanest thou not that Urban," quoth he tho,*
*then
"That is so often damned to be dead,
And wons* in halkes** always to and fro, *dwells
**corners
And dare not ones putte forth his head?
Men should him brennen* in a fire so red,
*burn
If he were found, or if men might him spy:
And us also, to bear him company.

"And while we seeke that Divinity
That is y-hid in heaven privily,
Algate* burnt in this world should we be."
*nevertheless
To whom Cecilie answer'd boldely;
"Men mighte dreade well and skilfully*
*reasonably
This life to lose, mine owen deare brother,
If this were living only, and none other.

"But there is better life in other place,
That never shall be loste, dread thee nought;
Which Godde's Son us tolde through his grace
That Father's Son which alle thinges wrought;
And all that wrought is with a skilful* thought,
*reasonable
The Ghost,* that from the Father gan proceed, *Holy
Spirit
Hath souled* them, withouten any drede.** *endowed them with
a soul

**doubt
By word and by miracle, high God's Son,
When he was in this world, declared here.
That there is other life where men may won."*
*dwell
To whom answer'd Tiburce, "O sister dear,
Saidest thou not right now in this mannere,
There was but one God, Lord in soothfastness,*
*truth
And now of three how may'st thou bear witness?"

"That shall I tell," quoth she, "ere that I go.
Right as a man hath sapiences* three, *mental
faculties
Memory, engine,* and intellect also,
*wit <11>
So in one being of divinity
Three persones there maye right well be."
Then gan she him full busily to preach
Of Christe's coming, and his paines teach,

And many pointes of his passion;
How Godde's Son in this world was withhold*
*employed
To do mankinde plein* remission,
*full
That was y-bound in sin and cares cold.*
*wretched <12>
All this thing she unto Tiburce told,
And after that Tiburce, in good intent,
With Valerian to Pope Urban he went.

That thanked God, and with glad heart and light
He christen'd him, and made him in that place
Perfect in his learning, and Godde's knight.
And after this Tiburce got such grace,
That every day he saw in time and space
Th' angel of God, and every manner boon* *request,
favour
That be God asked, it was sped* full anon. *granted,
successful

It were full hard by order for to sayn
How many wonders Jesus for them wrought,
But at the last, to telle short and plain,
The sergeants of the town of Rome them sought,
And them before Almach the Prefect brought,
Which them apposed,* and knew all their intent,
*questioned
And to th'image of Jupiter them sent.

And said, "Whoso will not do sacrifice,
Swap* off his head, this is my sentence here."
*strike
Anon these martyrs, *that I you devise,* *of whom I
tell you*
One Maximus, that was an officere
Of the prefect's, and his corniculere <13>
Them hent,* and when he forth the saintes lad,**
*seized **led
Himself he wept for pity that he had.

When Maximus had heard the saintes lore,* *doctrine,
teaching
He got him of the tormentores* leave,
*torturers
And led them to his house withoute more;
And with their preaching, ere that it were eve,
They gonnen* from the tormentors to reave,** *began **wrest,
root out
And from Maxim', and from his folk each one,
The false faith, to trow* in God alone.
*believe

Cecilia came, when it was waxen night,
With priestes, that them christen'd *all in fere;* *in a
company*
And afterward, when day was waxen light,
Cecile them said with a full steadfast cheer,*
*mien
"Now, Christe's owen knightes lefe* and dear,
*beloved
Cast all away the workes of darkness,
And arme you in armour of brightness.

Ye have forsooth y-done a great battaile,
Your course is done, your faith have ye conserved; <14>
O to the crown of life that may not fail;
The rightful Judge, which that ye have served
Shall give it you, as ye have it deserved."
And when this thing was said, as I devise,*
relate
Men led them forth to do the sacrifice.

But when they were unto the place brought
To telle shortly the conclusion,
They would incense nor sacrifice right nought
But on their knees they sette them adown,
With humble heart and sad* devotion,
*steadfast
And loste both their heades in the place;
Their soules wente to the King of grace.

This Maximus, that saw this thing betide,
With piteous teares told it anon right,
That he their soules saw to heaven glide
With angels, full of clearness and of light
Andt with his word converted many a wight.
For which Almachius *did him to-beat* *see
note <15>*
With whip of lead, till he his life gan lete.*
*quit

Cecile him took, and buried him anon
By Tiburce and Valerian softely,
Within their burying-place, under the stone.
And after this Almachius hastily
Bade his ministers fetchen openly
Cecile, so that she might in his presence
Do sacrifice, and Jupiter incense.* *burn
incense to

But they, converted at her wise lore,*
*teaching
Wepte full sore, and gave full credence
Unto her word, and cried more and more;
"Christ, Godde's Son, withoute difference,
Is very God, this is all our sentence,*
*opinion
That hath so good a servant him to serve
Thus with one voice we trowe,* though we sterve.**
*believe **die

Almachius, that heard of this doing,
Bade fetch Cecilie, that he might her see;
And alderfirst,* lo, this was his asking; *first
of all
"What manner woman arte thou?" quoth he,
"I am a gentle woman born," quoth she.
"I aske thee," quoth he,"though it thee grieve,
Of thy religion and of thy believe."

"Ye have begun your question foolishly,"
Quoth she, "that wouldest two answers conclude
In one demand? ye aske lewedly."*
*ignorantly
Almach answer'd to that similitude,
"Of whence comes thine answering so rude?"
"Of whence?" quoth she, when that she was freined,*
*asked
"Of conscience, and of good faith unfeigned."

Almachius saide; "Takest thou no heed
Of my power?" and she him answer'd this;
"Your might," quoth she, "full little is to dread;
For every mortal manne's power is
But like a bladder full of wind, y-wis;*
*certainly
For with a needle's point, when it is blow',
May all the boast of it be laid full low."

"Full wrongfully begunnest thou," quoth he,
"And yet in wrong is thy perseverance.
Know'st thou not how our mighty princes free
Have thus commanded and made ordinance,
That every Christian wight shall have penance,*
*punishment
But if that he his Christendom withsay,*
*deny
And go all quit, if he will it renay?"*
*renounce

"Your princes erren, as your nobley* doth,"
*nobility
Quoth then Cecile, "and with a *wood sentence* *mad
judgment*
Ye make us guilty, and it is not sooth:*
*true
For ye that knowe well our innocence,
Forasmuch as we do aye reverence
To Christ, and for we bear a Christian name,
Ye put on us a crime and eke a blame.

"But we that knowe thilke name so
For virtuous, we may it not withsay."
Almach answered, "Choose one of these two,
Do sacrifice, or Christendom renay,
That thou may'st now escape by that way."
At which the holy blissful faire maid
Gan for to laugh, and to the judge said;

"O judge, *confused in thy nicety,* *confounded in thy
folly*
Wouldest thou that I reny innocence?
To make me a wicked wight," quoth she,
"Lo, he dissimuleth* here in audience;
*dissembles
He stareth and woodeth* in his advertence."** *grows furious
**thought
To whom Almachius said, "Unsely* wretch,
*unhappy
Knowest thou not how far my might may stretch?

"Have not our mighty princes to me given
Yea bothe power and eke authority
To make folk to dien or to liven?
Why speakest thou so proudly then to me?"
"I speake not but steadfastly," quoth she,
Not proudly, for I say, as for my side,
We hate deadly* thilke vice of pride.
*mortally

"And, if thou dreade not a sooth* to hear,
*truth
Then will I shew all openly by right,
That thou hast made a full great leasing* here.
*falsehood
Thou say'st thy princes have thee given might
Both for to slay and for to quick* a wight, -- *give
life to
Thou that may'st not but only life bereave;
Thou hast none other power nor no leave.

"But thou may'st say, thy princes have thee maked
Minister of death; for if thou speak of mo',
Thou liest; for thy power is full naked."
"Do away thy boldness," said Almachius tho,*
*then
"And sacrifice to our gods, ere thou go.
I recke not what wrong that thou me proffer,
For I can suffer it as a philosopher.

"But those wronges may I not endure,
That thou speak'st of our goddes here," quoth he.
Cecile answer'd, "O nice* creature,
*foolish
Thou saidest no word, since thou spake to me,
That I knew not therewith thy nicety,*
*folly
And that thou wert in *every manner wise* *every sort
of way*
A lewed* officer, a vain justice.
*ignorant

"There lacketh nothing to thine outward eyen
That thou art blind; for thing that we see all
That it is stone, that men may well espyen,
That ilke* stone a god thou wilt it call. *very,
selfsame
I rede* thee let thine hand upon it fall,
*advise
And taste* it well, and stone thou shalt it find;
*examine, test
Since that thou see'st not with thine eyen blind.

"It is a shame that the people shall
So scorne thee, and laugh at thy folly;
For commonly men *wot it well over all,* *know it
everywhere*
That mighty God is in his heaven high;
And these images, well may'st thou espy,
To thee nor to themselves may not profite,
For in effect they be not worth a mite."

These wordes and such others saide she,
And he wax'd wroth, and bade men should her lead
Home to her house; "And in her house," quoth he,
"Burn her right in a bath, with flames red."
And as he bade, right so was done the deed;
For in a bath they gan her faste shetten,* *shut,
confine
And night and day great fire they under betten.* *kindled,
applied

The longe night, and eke a day also,
For all the fire, and eke the bathe's heat,
She sat all cold, and felt of it no woe,
It made her not one droppe for to sweat;
But in that bath her life she must lete.*
*leave
For he, Almachius, with full wick' intent,
To slay her in the bath his sonde* sent.
*message, order

Three strokes in the neck he smote her tho,*
*there
The tormentor,* but for no manner chance
*executioner
He might not smite her faire neck in two:
And, for there was that time an ordinance
That no man should do man such penance,* *severity,
torture
The fourthe stroke to smite, soft or sore,
This tormentor he durste do no more;

But half dead, with her necke carven* there
*gashed
He let her lie, and on his way is went.
The Christian folk, which that about her were,
With sheetes have the blood full fair y-hent;
*taken up
Three dayes lived she in this torment,
And never ceased them the faith to teach,
That she had foster'd them, she gan to preach.

And them she gave her mebles* and her thing,
*goods
And to the Pope Urban betook* them tho;** *commended
**then
And said, "I aske this of heaven's king,
To have respite three dayes and no mo',
To recommend to you, ere that I go,
These soules, lo; and that *I might do wirch* *cause to
be made*
Here of mine house perpetually a church."

Saint Urban, with his deacons, privily
The body fetch'd, and buried it by night
Among his other saintes honestly;
Her house the church of Saint Cecilie hight;* *is
called
Saint Urban hallow'd it, as he well might;
In which unto this day, in noble wise,
Men do to Christ and to his saint service.

Notes to the Nun's Priest's Tale

1. This Tale was originally composed by Chaucer as a separate
work, and as such it is mentioned in the "Legend of Good
Women" under the title of "The Life of Saint Cecile". Tyrwhitt
quotes the line in which the author calls himself an "unworthy
son of Eve," and that in which he says, "Yet pray I you, that
reade what I write", as internal evidence that the insertion of
the
poem in the Canterbury Tales was the result of an afterthought;
while the whole tenor of the introduction confirms the belief
that Chaucer composed it as a writer or translator -- not,
dramatically, as a speaker. The story is almost literally
translated from the Life of St Cecilia in the "Legenda Aurea."

2. Leas: leash, snare; the same as "las," oftener used by
Chaucer.

3. The nativity and assumption of the Virgin Mary formed the
themes of some of St Bernard's most eloquent sermons.

4. Compare with this stanza the fourth stanza of the Prioress's
Tale, the substance of which is the same.

5. "But he answered and said, it is not meet to take the
children's bread, and cast it to dogs. And she said, Truth,
Lord:
yet the dogs eat of the crumbs which fall from their master's
table." -- Matthew xv. 26, 27.

6. See note 1.

7. These are Latin puns: Heaven's lily - "Coeli lilium"; The way
of blind - "Caeci via"; Heaven and Lia - from "Coeli", heaven,
and "Ligo," to bind; Heaven and Leos - from Coeli and "Laos,"
(Ionian Greek) or "Leos" (Attic Greek), the people. Such
punning derivations of proper names were very much in favour
in the Middle Ages. The explanations of St Cecilia's name are
literally taken from the prologue to the Latin legend.

8. This passage suggests Horace's description of the wise man,
who, among other things, is "in se ipse totus, teres, atque
rotundus." ("complete in himself, polished and rounded") --
Satires, 2, vii. 80.

9. Louting: lingering, or lying concealed; the Latin original has
"Inter sepulchra martyrum latiantem" ("hiding among the tombs
of martyrs")

10. The fourteen lines within brackets are supposed to have
been originally an interpolation in the Latin legend, from which
they are literally translated. They awkwardly interrupt the flow
of the narration.

11. Engine: wit; the devising or constructive faculty; Latin,
"ingenium."

12. Cold: wretched, distressful; see note 22 to the Nun's
Priest's
Tale.

13. Corniculere: The secretary or registrar who was charged
with publishing the acts, decrees and orders of the prefect.

14. "I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I
have kept the faith: Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown
of righteousness" -- 2 Tim. iv. 7, 8.

15. Did him to-beat: Caused him to be cruelly or fatally beaten;
the force of the "to" is intensive.

THE CANON'S YEOMAN'S TALE. <1>

THE PROLOGUE.

WHEN ended was the life of Saint Cecile,
Ere we had ridden fully five mile, <2>
At Boughton-under-Blee us gan o'ertake
A man, that clothed was in clothes black,
And underneath he wore a white surplice.
His hackenay,* which was all pomely-gris,** *nag
**dapple-gray
So sweated, that it wonder was to see;
It seem'd as he had pricked* miles three.
*spurred
The horse eke that his yeoman rode upon
So sweated, that unnethes* might he gon.**
*hardly **go
About the peytrel <3> stood the foam full high;
He was of foam, as *flecked as a pie.* *spotted like a
magpie*
A maile twyfold <4> on his crupper lay;
It seemed that he carried little array;
All light for summer rode this worthy man.
And in my heart to wonder I began
What that he was, till that I understood
How that his cloak was sewed to his hood;
For which, when I had long advised* me,
*considered
I deemed him some Canon for to be.
His hat hung at his back down by a lace,*
*cord
For he had ridden more than trot or pace;
He hadde pricked like as he were wood.*
*mad
A clote-leaf* he had laid under his hood, *
burdock-leaf
For sweat, and for to keep his head from heat.
But it was joye for to see him sweat;
His forehead dropped as a stillatory*
*still
Were full of plantain or of paritory.*
*wallflower
And when that he was come, he gan to cry,
"God save," quoth he, "this jolly company.
Fast have I pricked," quoth he, "for your sake,
Because that I would you overtake,
To riden in this merry company."
His Yeoman was eke full of courtesy,
And saide, "Sirs, now in the morning tide
Out of your hostelry I saw you ride,
And warned here my lord and sovereign,
Which that to ride with you is full fain,
For his disport; he loveth dalliance."
"Friend, for thy warning God give thee good chance,"*
*fortune
Said oure Host; "certain it woulde seem
Thy lord were wise, and so I may well deem;
He is full jocund also, dare I lay;
Can he aught tell a merry tale or tway,
With which he gladden may this company?"
"Who, Sir? my lord? Yea, Sir, withoute lie,
He can* of mirth and eke of jollity
*knows
*Not but* enough; also, Sir, truste me, *not
less than*
An* ye him knew all so well as do I,
*if
Ye would wonder how well and craftily
He coulde work, and that in sundry wise.
He hath take on him many a great emprise,* *task,
undertaking
Which were full hard for any that is here
To bring about, but* they of him it lear.** *unless
**learn
As homely as he rides amonges you,
If ye him knew, it would be for your prow:*
*advantage
Ye woulde not forego his acquaintance
For muche good, I dare lay in balance
All that I have in my possession.
He is a man of high discretion.
I warn you well, he is a passing* man." *surpassing,
extraordinary
Well," quoth our Host, "I pray thee tell me than,
Is he a clerk,* or no? Tell what he is." *scholar,
priest
"Nay, he is greater than a clerk, y-wis,"*
*certainly
Saide this Yeoman; "and, in wordes few,
Host, of his craft somewhat I will you shew,
I say, my lord can* such a subtlety
*knows
(But all his craft ye may not weet* of me,
*learn
And somewhat help I yet to his working),
That all the ground on which we be riding
Till that we come to Canterbury town,
He could all cleane turnen up so down,
And pave it all of silver and of gold."
And when this Yeoman had this tale told
Unto our Host, he said; "Ben'dicite!
This thing is wonder marvellous to me,
Since that thy lord is of so high prudence,
Because of which men should him reverence,
That of his worship* recketh he so lite;** *honour
**little
His *overest slop* it is not worth a mite *upper
garment*
As in effect to him, so may I go;
It is all baudy* and to-tore also.
*slovenly
Why is thy lord so sluttish, I thee pray,
And is of power better clothes to bey,*
*buy
If that his deed accordeth with thy speech?
Telle me that, and that I thee beseech."

"Why?" quoth this Yeoman, "whereto ask ye me?
God help me so, for he shall never the*
*thrive
(But I will not avowe* that I say,
*admit
And therefore keep it secret, I you pray);
He is too wise, in faith, as I believe.
Thing that is overdone, it will not preve* *stand
the test
Aright, as clerkes say; it is a vice;
Wherefore in that I hold him *lewd and nice."* *ignorant and
foolish*
For when a man hath over great a wit,
Full oft him happens to misusen it;
So doth my lord, and that me grieveth sore.
God it amend; I can say now no more."

"Thereof *no force,* good Yeoman, "quoth our Host; *no
matter*
"Since of the conning* of thy lord, thou know'st,
*knowledge
Tell how he doth, I pray thee heartily,
Since that be is so crafty and so sly.*
*wise
Where dwelle ye, if it to telle be?"
"In the suburbes of a town," quoth he,
"Lurking in hernes* and in lanes blind,
*corners
Where as these robbers and these thieves by kind*
*nature
Holde their privy fearful residence,
As they that dare not show their presence,
So fare we, if I shall say the soothe."*
*truth
"Yet," quoth our Hoste, "let me talke to thee;
Why art thou so discolour'd of thy face?"
"Peter!" quoth he, "God give it harde grace,
I am so us'd the hote fire to blow,
That it hath changed my colour, I trow;
I am not wont in no mirror to pry,
But swinke* sore, and learn to multiply. <5>
*labour
We blunder* ever, and poren** in the fire, *toil
**peer
And, for all that, we fail of our desire
For ever we lack our conclusion
To muche folk we do illusion,
And borrow gold, be it a pound or two,
Or ten or twelve, or many summes mo',
And make them weenen,* at the leaste way,
*fancy
That of a pounde we can make tway.
Yet is it false; and aye we have good hope
It for to do, and after it we grope:* *search,
strive
But that science is so far us beforn,
That we may not, although we had it sworn,
It overtake, it slides away so fast;
It will us make beggars at the last."
While this Yeoman was thus in his talking,
This Canon drew him near, and heard all thing
Which this Yeoman spake, for suspicion
Of menne's speech ever had this Canon:
For Cato saith, that he that guilty is, <6>
Deemeth all things be spoken of him y-wis;*
*surely
Because of that he gan so nigh to draw
To his Yeoman, that he heard all his saw;
And thus he said unto his Yeoman tho*
*then
"Hold thou thy peace,and speak no wordes mo':
For if thou do, thou shalt *it dear abie.* *pay dearly
for it*
Thou slanderest me here in this company
And eke discoverest that thou shouldest hide."
"Yea," quoth our Host, "tell on, whatso betide;
Of all his threatening reck not a mite."
"In faith," quoth he, "no more do I but lite."*
*little
And when this Canon saw it would not be
But his Yeoman would tell his privity,*
*secrets
He fled away for very sorrow and shame.

"Ah!" quoth the Yeoman, "here shall rise a game;* *some
diversion
All that I can anon I will you tell,
Since he is gone; the foule fiend him quell!*
*destroy
For ne'er hereafter will I with him meet,
For penny nor for pound, I you behete.*
*promise
He that me broughte first unto that game,
Ere that he die, sorrow have he and shame.
For it is earnest* to me, by my faith; *a serious
matter
That feel I well, what so any man saith;
And yet for all my smart, and all my grief,
For all my sorrow, labour, and mischief,*
*trouble
I coulde never leave it in no wise.
Now would to God my witte might suffice
To tellen all that longeth to that art!
But natheless yet will I telle part;
Since that my lord is gone, I will not spare;
Such thing as that I know, I will declare."

Notes to the Prologue to the Canon's Yeoman's Tale

1. "The introduction," says Tyrwhitt, "of the Canon's
Yeoman to tell a Tale at a time when so many of the original
characters remain to be called upon, appears a little
extraordinary. It should seem that some sudden resentment
had determined Chaucer to interrupt the regular course of his
work, in order to insert a satire against the alchemists. That
their pretended science was much cultivated about this time,
and produced its usual evils, may fairly be inferred from the
Act, which was passed soon after, 5 H. IV. c. iv., to make it
felony 'to multiply gold or silver, or to use the art of
multiplication.'" Tyrwhitt finds in the prologue some colour
for the hypothesis that this Tale was intended by Chaucer to
begin the return journey from Canterbury; but against this
must be set the fact that the Yeoman himself expressly speaks
of the distance to Canterbury yet to be ridden.

2. Fully five mile: From some place which the loss of the
Second Nun's Prologue does not enable us to identify.

3. Peytrel: the breast-plate of a horse's harness; French,
"poitrail."

4. A maile twyfold: a double valise; a wallet hanging across
the crupper on either side of the horse.

5. Multiply: transmute metals, in the attempt to multiply gold
and silver by alchemy.

6. "Conscius ipse sibi de se putat omnia dici" ("The
conspirator believes that everything spoken refers to himself")
-- "De Moribus," I. i. dist. 17.

THE TALE. <1>

With this Canon I dwelt have seven year,
And of his science am I ne'er the near*
*nearer
All that I had I have lost thereby,
And, God wot, so have many more than I.
Where I was wont to be right fresh and gay
Of clothing, and of other good array
Now may I wear an hose upon mine head;
And where my colour was both fresh and red,
Now is it wan, and of a leaden hue
(Whoso it useth, sore shall he it rue);
And of my swink* yet bleared is mine eye;
*labour
Lo what advantage is to multiply!
That sliding* science hath me made so bare, *slippery,
deceptive
That I have no good,* where that ever I fare;
*property
And yet I am indebted so thereby
Of gold, that I have borrow'd truely,
That, while I live, I shall it quite* never;
*repay
Let every man beware by me for ever.
What manner man that casteth* him thereto,
*betaketh
If he continue, I hold *his thrift y-do;* *prosperity at
an end*
So help me God, thereby shall he not win,
But empty his purse, and make his wittes thin.
And when he, through his madness and folly,
Hath lost his owen good through jupartie,*
*hazard <2>
Then he exciteth other men thereto,
To lose their good as he himself hath do'.
For unto shrewes* joy it is and ease
*wicked folk
To have their fellows in pain and disease.*
*trouble
Thus was I ones learned of a clerk;
Of that no charge;* I will speak of our work.
*matter

When we be there as we shall exercise
Our elvish* craft, we seeme wonder wise, *fantastic,
wicked
Our termes be so *clergial and quaint.* *learned and
strange
I blow the fire till that mine hearte faint.
Why should I tellen each proportion
Of thinges, whiche that we work upon,
As on five or six ounces, may well be,
Of silver, or some other quantity?
And busy me to telle you the names,
As orpiment, burnt bones, iron squames,*
*scales <3>
That into powder grounden be full small?
And in an earthen pot how put is all,
And, salt y-put in, and also peppere,
Before these powders that I speak of here,
And well y-cover'd with a lamp of glass?
And of much other thing which that there was?
And of the pots and glasses engluting,*
*sealing up
That of the air might passen out no thing?
And of the easy* fire, and smart** also, *slow
**quick
Which that was made? and of the care and woe
That we had in our matters subliming,
And in amalgaming, and calcining
Of quicksilver, called mercury crude?
For all our sleightes we can not conclude.
Our orpiment, and sublim'd mercury,
Our ground litharge* eke on the porphyry,
*white lead
Of each of these of ounces a certain,* *certain
proportion
Not helpeth us, our labour is in vain.
Nor neither our spirits' ascensioun,
Nor our matters that lie all fix'd adown,
May in our working nothing us avail;
For lost is all our labour and travail,
And all the cost, a twenty devil way,
Is lost also, which we upon it lay.

There is also full many another thing
That is unto our craft appertaining,
Though I by order them not rehearse can,
Because that I am a lewed* man;
*unlearned
Yet will I tell them as they come to mind,
Although I cannot set them in their kind,
As sal-armoniac, verdigris, borace;
And sundry vessels made of earth and glass; <4>
Our urinales, and our descensories,
Phials, and croslets, and sublimatories,
Cucurbites, and alembikes eke,
And other suche, *dear enough a leek,* *worth less than
a leek*
It needeth not for to rehearse them all.
Waters rubifying, and bulles' gall,
Arsenic, sal-armoniac, and brimstone,
And herbes could I tell eke many a one,
As egremoine,* valerian, and lunary,** *agrimony
**moon-wort
And other such, if that me list to tarry;
Our lampes burning bothe night and day,
To bring about our craft if that we may;
Our furnace eke of calcination,
And of waters albification,
Unslaked lime, chalk, and *glair of an ey,*
*egg-white
Powders diverse, ashes, dung, piss, and clay,
Seared pokettes,<5> saltpetre, and vitriol;
And divers fires made of wood and coal;
Sal-tartar, alkali, salt preparate,
And combust matters, and coagulate;
Clay made with horse and manne's hair, and oil
Of tartar, alum, glass, barm, wort, argoil,* *potter's
clay<6>
Rosalgar,* and other matters imbibing; *flowers of
antimony
And eke of our matters encorporing,*
*incorporating
And of our silver citrination, <7>
Our cementing, and fermentation,
Our ingots,* tests, and many thinges mo'.
*moulds <8>
I will you tell, as was me taught also,
The foure spirits, and the bodies seven,
By order, as oft I heard my lord them neven.*
*name
The first spirit Quicksilver called is;
The second Orpiment; the third, y-wis,
Sal-Armoniac, and the fourth Brimstone.
The bodies sev'n eke, lo them here anon.
Sol gold is, and Luna silver we threpe*
*name <9>
Mars iron, Mercury quicksilver we clepe;*
*call
Saturnus lead, and Jupiter is tin,
And Venus copper, by my father's kin.

This cursed craft whoso will exercise,
He shall no good have that him may suffice;
For all the good he spendeth thereabout,
He lose shall, thereof have I no doubt.
Whoso that list to utter* his folly,
*display
Let him come forth and learn to multiply:
And every man that hath aught in his coffer,
Let him appear, and wax a philosopher;
Ascaunce* that craft is so light to lear.** *as if
**learn
Nay, nay, God wot, all be he monk or frere,
Priest or canon, or any other wight;
Though he sit at his book both day and night;
In learning of this *elvish nice* lore, * fantastic,
foolish
All is in vain; and pardie muche more,
Is to learn a lew'd* man this subtlety;
*ignorant
Fie! speak not thereof, for it will not be.
And *conne he letterure,* or conne he none, *if he knows
learning*
As in effect, he shall it find all one;
For bothe two, by my salvation,
Concluden in multiplication* *transmutation by
alchemy
Alike well, when they have all y-do;
This is to say, they faile bothe two.
Yet forgot I to make rehearsale
Of waters corrosive, and of limaile,* *metal
filings
And of bodies' mollification,
And also of their induration,
Oiles, ablutions, metal fusible,
To tellen all, would passen any Bible
That owhere* is; wherefore, as for the best,
*anywhere
Of all these names now will I me rest;
For, as I trow, I have you told enough
To raise a fiend, all look he ne'er so rough.

Ah! nay, let be; the philosopher's stone,
Elixir call'd, we seeke fast each one;
For had we him, then were we sicker* enow;
*secure
But unto God of heaven I make avow,*
*confession
For all our craft, when we have all y-do,
And all our sleight, he will not come us to.
He hath y-made us spende muche good,
For sorrow of which almost we waxed wood,*
*mad
But that good hope creeped in our heart,
Supposing ever, though we sore smart,
To be relieved by him afterward.
Such supposing and hope is sharp and hard.
I warn you well it is to seeken ever.
That future temps* hath made men dissever,** *time
**part from
In trust thereof, from all that ever they had,
Yet of that art they cannot waxe sad,*
*repentant
For unto them it is a bitter sweet;
So seemeth it; for had they but a sheet
Which that they mighte wrap them in at night,
And a bratt* to walk in by dayelight,
*cloak<10>
They would them sell, and spend it on this craft;
They cannot stint,* until no thing be laft.
*cease
And evermore, wherever that they gon,
Men may them knowe by smell of brimstone;
For all the world they stinken as a goat;
Their savour is so rammish and so hot,
That though a man a mile from them be,
The savour will infect him, truste me.
Lo, thus by smelling and threadbare array,
If that men list, this folk they knowe may.
And if a man will ask them privily,
Why they be clothed so unthriftily,*
*shabbily
They right anon will rownen* in his ear,
*whisper
And sayen, if that they espied were,
Men would them slay, because of their science:
Lo, thus these folk betrayen innocence!

Pass over this; I go my tale unto.
Ere that the pot be on the fire y-do*
*placed
Of metals, with a certain quantity
My lord them tempers,* and no man but he *adjusts the
proportions
(Now he is gone, I dare say boldely);
For as men say, he can do craftily,
Algate* I wot well he hath such a name,
*although
And yet full oft he runneth into blame;
And know ye how? full oft it happ'neth so,
The pot to-breaks, and farewell! all is go'.*
*gone
These metals be of so great violence,
Our walles may not make them resistence,
*But if* they were wrought of lime and stone;
*unless*
They pierce so, that through the wall they gon;
And some of them sink down into the ground
(Thus have we lost by times many a pound),
And some are scatter'd all the floor about;
Some leap into the roof withoute doubt.
Though that the fiend not in our sight him show,
I trowe that he be with us, that shrew;* *impious
wretch
In helle, where that he is lord and sire,
Is there no more woe, rancour, nor ire.
When that our pot is broke, as I have said,
Every man chides, and holds him *evil apaid.*
*dissatisfied*
Some said it was *long on* the fire-making; *because
of <11>*
Some saide nay, it was on the blowing
(Then was I fear'd, for that was mine office);
"Straw!" quoth the third, "ye be *lewed and **nice, *ignorant
**foolish
It was not temper'd* as it ought to be." *mixed in due
proportions
"Nay," quoth the fourthe, "stint* and hearken me;
*stop
Because our fire was not y-made of beech,
That is the cause, and other none, *so the'ch.* *so may I
thrive*
I cannot tell whereon it was along,
But well I wot great strife is us among."
"What?" quoth my lord, "there is no more to do'n,
Of these perils I will beware eftsoon.*
*another time
I am right sicker* that the pot was crazed.** *sure
**cracked
Be as be may, be ye no thing amazed.*
*confounded
As usage is, let sweep the floor as swithe;*
*quickly
Pluck up your heartes and be glad and blithe."

The mullok* on a heap y-sweeped was,
*rubbish
And on the floor y-cast a canevas,
And all this mullok in a sieve y-throw,
And sifted, and y-picked many a throw.*
*time
"Pardie," quoth one, "somewhat of our metal
Yet is there here, though that we have not all.
And though this thing *mishapped hath as now,* *has
gone amiss
Another time it may be well enow. at
present*
We muste *put our good in adventure; * *risk our
property*
A merchant, pardie, may not aye endure,
Truste me well, in his prosperity:
Sometimes his good is drenched* in the sea,
*drowned, sunk
And sometimes comes it safe unto the land."
"Peace," quoth my lord; "the next time I will fand*
*endeavour
To bring our craft *all in another plight,* *to a different
conclusion*
And but I do, Sirs, let me have the wite;*
*blame
There was default in somewhat, well I wot."
Another said, the fire was over hot.
But be it hot or cold, I dare say this,
That we concluden evermore amiss;
We fail alway of that which we would have;
And in our madness evermore we rave.
And when we be together every one,
Every man seemeth a Solomon.
But all thing, which that shineth as the gold,
It is not gold, as I have heard it told;
Nor every apple that is fair at eye,
It is not good, what so men clap* or cry.
*assert
Right so, lo, fareth it amonges us.
He that the wisest seemeth, by Jesus,
Is most fool, when it cometh to the prefe;*
*proof, test
And he that seemeth truest, is a thief.
That shall ye know, ere that I from you wend;
By that I of my tale have made an end.

There was a canon of religioun
Amonges us, would infect* all a town,
*deceive
Though it as great were as was Nineveh,
Rome, Alisandre,* Troy, or other three.
*Alexandria
His sleightes* and his infinite falseness *cunning
tricks
There coulde no man writen, as I guess,
Though that he mighte live a thousand year;
In all this world of falseness n'is* his peer. *there
is not
For in his termes he will him so wind,
And speak his wordes in so sly a kind,
When he commune shall with any wight,
That he will make him doat* anon aright, *become
foolishly
But it a fiende be, as himself is. fond
of him*
Full many a man hath he beguil'd ere this,
And will, if that he may live any while;
And yet men go and ride many a mile
Him for to seek, and have his acquaintance,
Not knowing of his false governance.* *deceitful
conduct
And if you list to give me audience,
I will it telle here in your presence.
But, worshipful canons religious,
Ne deeme not that I slander your house,
Although that my tale of a canon be.
Of every order some shrew is, pardie;
And God forbid that all a company
Should rue a singular* manne's folly.
*individual
To slander you is no thing mine intent;
But to correct that is amiss I meant.
This tale was not only told for you,
But eke for other more; ye wot well how
That amonges Christe's apostles twelve
There was no traitor but Judas himselve;
Then why should all the remenant have blame,
That guiltless were? By you I say the same.
Save only this, if ye will hearken me,
If any Judas in your convent be,
Remove him betimes, I you rede,*
*counsel
If shame or loss may causen any dread.
And be no thing displeased, I you pray;
But in this case hearken what I say.

In London was a priest, an annualere, <12>
That therein dwelled hadde many a year,
Which was so pleasant and so serviceable
Unto the wife, where as he was at table,
That she would suffer him no thing to pay
For board nor clothing, went he ne'er so gay;
And spending silver had he right enow;
Thereof no force;* will proceed as now, *no
matter
And telle forth my tale of the canon,
That brought this prieste to confusion.
This false canon came upon a day
Unto the prieste's chamber, where he lay,
Beseeching him to lend him a certain
Of gold, and he would quit it him again.
"Lend me a mark," quoth he, "but dayes three,
And at my day I will it quite thee.
And if it so be that thou find me false,
Another day hang me up by the halse."*
*neck
This priest him took a mark, and that as swithe,*
*quickly
And this canon him thanked often sithe,*
*times
And took his leave, and wente forth his way;
And at the thirde day brought his money;
And to the priest he took his gold again,
Whereof this priest was wondrous glad and fain.*
*pleased
"Certes," quoth he, *"nothing annoyeth me* *I am not
unwiling*
To lend a man a noble, or two, or three,
Or what thing were in my possession,
When he so true is of condition,
That in no wise he breake will his day;
To such a man I never can say nay."
"What," quoth this canon, "should I be untrue?
Nay, that were *thing y-fallen all of new!* *a new thing to
happen*
Truth is a thing that I will ever keep,
Unto the day in which that I shall creep
Into my grave; and elles God forbid;
Believe this as sicker* as your creed.
*sure
God thank I, and in good time be it said,
That there was never man yet *evil apaid* *displeased,
dissatisfied*
For gold nor silver that he to me lent,
Nor ever falsehood in mine heart I meant.
And Sir," quoth he, "now of my privity,
Since ye so goodly have been unto me,
And kithed* to me so great gentleness,
*shown
Somewhat, to quite with your kindeness,
I will you shew, and if you list to lear,*
*learn
I will you teache plainly the mannere
How I can worken in philosophy.
Take good heed, ye shall well see *at eye* *with your
own eye*
That I will do a mas'try ere I go."
"Yea," quoth the priest; "yea, Sir, and will ye so?
Mary! thereof I pray you heartily."
"At your commandement, Sir, truely,"
Quoth the canon, "and elles God forbid."
Lo, how this thiefe could his service bede!*
*offer

Full sooth it is that such proffer'd service
Stinketh, as witnesse *these olde wise;* *those wise folk
of old*
And that full soon I will it verify
In this canon, root of all treachery,
That evermore delight had and gladness
(Such fiendly thoughtes *in his heart impress*) *press into his
heart*
How Christe's people he may to mischief bring.
God keep us from his false dissimuling!
What wiste this priest with whom that he dealt?
Nor of his harm coming he nothing felt.
O sely* priest, O sely innocent!
*simple
With covetise anon thou shalt be blent;* *blinded;
beguiled
O graceless, full blind is thy conceit!
For nothing art thou ware of the deceit
Which that this fox y-shapen* hath to thee;
*contrived
His wily wrenches* thou not mayest flee.
*snares
Wherefore, to go to the conclusioun
That referreth to thy confusion,
Unhappy man, anon I will me hie*
*hasten
To telle thine unwit* and thy folly,
*stupidity
And eke the falseness of that other wretch,
As farforth as that my conning* will stretch.
*knowledge
This canon was my lord, ye woulde ween;*
*imagine
Sir Host, in faith, and by the heaven's queen,
It was another canon, and not he,
That can* an hundred fold more subtlety.
*knows
He hath betrayed folkes many a time;
Of his falseness it doleth* me to rhyme.
*paineth
And ever, when I speak of his falsehead,
For shame of him my cheekes waxe red;
Algates* they beginne for to glow,
*at least
For redness have I none, right well I know,
In my visage; for fumes diverse
Of metals, which ye have me heard rehearse,
Consumed have and wasted my redness.
Now take heed of this canon's cursedness.*
*villainy

"Sir," quoth he to the priest, "let your man gon
For quicksilver, that we it had anon;
And let him bringen ounces two or three;
And when he comes, as faste shall ye see
A wondrous thing, which ye saw ne'er ere this."
"Sir," quoth the priest, "it shall be done, y-wis."*
*certainly
He bade his servant fetche him this thing,
And he all ready was at his bidding,
And went him forth, and came anon again
With this quicksilver, shortly for to sayn;
And took these ounces three to the canoun;
And he them laide well and fair adown,
And bade the servant coales for to bring,
That he anon might go to his working.
The coales right anon weren y-fet,*
*fetched
And this canon y-took a crosselet*
*crucible
Out of his bosom, and shew'd to the priest.
"This instrument," quoth he, "which that thou seest,
Take in thine hand, and put thyself therein
Of this quicksilver an ounce, and here begin,
In the name of Christ, to wax a philosopher.
There be full few, which that I woulde proffer
To shewe them thus much of my science;
For here shall ye see by experience
That this quicksilver I will mortify,<13>
Right in your sight anon withoute lie,
And make it as good silver, and as fine,
As there is any in your purse, or mine,
Or elleswhere; and make it malleable,
And elles holde me false and unable
Amonge folk for ever to appear.
I have a powder here that cost me dear,
Shall make all good, for it is cause of all
My conning,* which that I you shewe shall.
*knowledge
Voide* your man, and let him be thereout;
*send away
And shut the doore, while we be about
Our privity, that no man us espy,
While that we work in this phiosophy."
All, as he bade, fulfilled was in deed.
This ilke servant right anon out yede,*
*went
And his master y-shut the door anon,
And to their labour speedily they gon.

This priest, at this cursed canon's biddIng,
Upon the fire anon he set this thing,
And blew the fire, and busied him full fast.
And this canon into the croslet cast
A powder, I know not whereof it was
Y-made, either of chalk, either of glass,
Or somewhat elles, was not worth a fly,
To blinden* with this priest; and bade him hie** *deceive
**make haste
The coales for to couchen* all above lay
in order
The croslet; "for, in token I thee love,"
Quoth this canon, "thine owen handes two
Shall work all thing that here shall be do'."
*"Grand mercy,"* quoth the priest, and was full glad, *great
thanks*
And couch'd the coales as the canon bade.
And while he busy was, this fiendly wretch,
This false canon (the foule fiend him fetch),
Out of his bosom took a beechen coal,
In which full subtifly was made a hole,
And therein put was of silver limaile*
*filings
An ounce, and stopped was withoute fail
The hole with wax, to keep the limaile in.
And understande, that this false gin*
*contrivance
Was not made there, but it was made before;
And other thinges I shall tell you more,
Hereafterward, which that he with him brought;
Ere he came there, him to beguile he thought,
And so he did, ere that they *went atwin;*
*separated*
Till he had turned him, could he not blin.*
*cease <14>
It doleth* me, when that I of him speak;
*paineth
On his falsehood fain would I me awreak,* *revenge
myself
If I wist how, but he is here and there;
He is so variant,* he abides nowhere.
*changeable

But take heed, Sirs, now for Godde's love.
He took his coal, of which I spake above,
And in his hand he bare it privily,
And while the prieste couched busily
The coales, as I tolde you ere this,
This canon saide, "Friend, ye do amiss;
This is not couched as it ought to be,
But soon I shall amenden it," quoth he.
"Now let me meddle therewith but a while,
For of you have I pity, by Saint Gile.
Ye be right hot, I see well how ye sweat;
Have here a cloth, and wipe away the wet."
And while that the prieste wip'd his face,
This canon took his coal, -- *with sorry grace,* -- *evil
fortune
And layed it above on the midward
attend him!*
Of the croslet, and blew well afterward,
Till that the coals beganne fast to brenn.*
*burn
"Now give us drinke," quoth this canon then,
"And swithe* all shall be well, I undertake.
*quickly
Sitte we down, and let us merry make."
And whenne that this canon's beechen coal
Was burnt, all the limaile out of the hole
Into the crosselet anon fell down;
And so it muste needes, by reasoun,
Since it above so *even couched* was;
*exactly laid*
But thereof wist the priest no thing, alas!
He deemed all the coals alike good,
For of the sleight he nothing understood.

And when this alchemister saw his time,
"Rise up, Sir Priest," quoth he, "and stand by me;
And, for I wot well ingot* have ye none;
*mould
Go, walke forth, and bring me a chalk stone;
For I will make it of the same shape
That is an ingot, if I may have hap.
Bring eke with you a bowl, or else a pan,
Full of water, and ye shall well see than*
*then
How that our business shall *hap and preve*
*succeed*
And yet, for ye shall have no misbelieve*
*mistrust
Nor wrong conceit of me, in your absence,
I wille not be out of your presence,
But go with you, and come with you again."
The chamber-doore, shortly for to sayn,
They opened and shut, and went their way,
And forth with them they carried the key;
And came again without any delay.
Why should I tarry all the longe day?
He took the chalk, and shap'd it in the wise
Of an ingot, as I shall you devise;*
*describe
I say, he took out of his owen sleeve
A teine* of silver (evil may he cheve!**) *little piece
**prosper
Which that ne was but a just ounce of weight.
And take heed now of his cursed sleight;
He shap'd his ingot, in length and in brede*
*breadth
Of this teine, withouten any drede,*
*doubt
So slily, that the priest it not espied;
And in his sleeve again he gan it hide;
And from the fire he took up his mattere,
And in th' ingot put it with merry cheer;
And in the water-vessel he it cast,
When that him list, and bade the priest as fast
Look what there is; "Put in thine hand and grope;
There shalt thou finde silver, as I hope."
What, devil of helle! should it elles be?
Shaving of silver, silver is, pardie.
He put his hand in, and took up a teine
Of silver fine; and glad in every vein
Was this priest, when he saw that it was so.
"Godde's blessing, and his mother's also,
And alle hallows,* have ye, Sir Canon!"
*saints
Saide this priest, "and I their malison*
*curse
But, an'* ye vouchesafe to teache me
*if
This noble craft and this subtility,
I will be yours in all that ever I may."
Quoth the canon, "Yet will I make assay
The second time, that ye may take heed,
And be expert of this, and, in your need,
Another day assay in mine absence
This discipline, and this crafty science.
Let take another ounce," quoth he tho,*
*then
"Of quicksilver, withoute wordes mo',
And do therewith as ye have done ere this
With that other, which that now silver is. "

The priest him busied, all that e'er he can,
To do as this canon, this cursed man,
Commanded him, and fast he blew the fire
For to come to th' effect of his desire.
And this canon right in the meanewhile
All ready was this priest eft* to beguile,
*again
and, for a countenance,* in his hande bare
*stratagem
An hollow sticke (take keep* and beware);
*heed
Of silver limaile put was, as before
Was in his coal, and stopped with wax well
For to keep in his limaile every deal.*
*particle
And while this priest was in his business,
This canon with his sticke gan him dress*
*apply
To him anon, and his powder cast in,
As he did erst (the devil out of his skin
Him turn, I pray to God, for his falsehead,
For he was ever false in thought and deed),
And with his stick, above the crosselet,
That was ordained* with that false get,** *provided
**contrivance
He stirr'd the coales, till relente gan
The wax against the fire, as every man,
But he a fool be, knows well it must need.
And all that in the sticke was out yede,*
*went
And in the croslet hastily* it fell.
*quickly
Now, goode Sirs, what will ye bet* than well?
*better
When that this priest was thus beguil'd again,
Supposing naught but truthe, sooth to sayn,
He was so glad, that I can not express
In no mannere his mirth and his gladness;
And to the canon he proffer'd eftsoon*
*forthwith; again
Body and good. "Yea," quoth the canon soon,
"Though poor I be, crafty* thou shalt me find;
*skilful
I warn thee well, yet is there more behind.
Is any copper here within?" said he.
"Yea, Sir," the prieste said, "I trow there be."
"Elles go buy us some, and that as swithe.*
*swiftly
Now, goode Sir, go forth thy way and hie* thee."
*hasten
He went his way, and with the copper came,
And this canon it in his handes name,*
*took <15>
And of that copper weighed out an ounce.
Too simple is my tongue to pronounce,
As minister of my wit, the doubleness
Of this canon, root of all cursedness.
He friendly seem'd to them that knew him not;
But he was fiendly, both in work and thought.
It wearieth me to tell of his falseness;
And natheless yet will I it express,
To that intent men may beware thereby,
And for none other cause truely.
He put this copper in the crosselet,
And on the fire as swithe* he hath it set,
*swiftly
And cast in powder, and made the priest to blow,
And in his working for to stoope low,
As he did erst,* and all was but a jape;** *before
**trick
Right as him list the priest *he made his ape.*
*befooled him*
And afterward in the ingot he it cast,
And in the pan he put it at the last
Of water, and in he put his own hand;
And in his sleeve, as ye beforehand
Hearde me tell, he had a silver teine;*
*small piece
He silly took it out, this cursed heine*
*wretch
(Unweeting* this priest of his false craft),
*unsuspecting
And in the panne's bottom he it laft*
*left
And in the water rumbleth to and fro,
And wondrous privily took up also
The copper teine (not knowing thilke priest),
And hid it, and him hente* by the breast,
*took
And to him spake, and thus said in his game;
"Stoop now adown; by God, ye be to blame;
Helpe me now, as I did you whilere;*
*before
Put in your hand, and looke what is there."

This priest took up this silver teine anon;
And thenne said the canon, "Let us gon,
With these three teines which that we have wrought,
To some goldsmith, and *weet if they be aught:* *find out if
they are
For, by my faith, I would not for my hood worth
anything*
*But if* they were silver fine and good,
*unless
And that as swithe* well proved shall it be."
*quickly
Unto the goldsmith with these teines three
They went anon, and put them in assay*
*proof
To fire and hammer; might no man say nay,
But that they weren as they ought to be.
This sotted* priest, who gladder was than he? *stupid,
besotted
Was never bird gladder against the day;
Nor nightingale in the season of May
Was never none, that better list to sing;
Nor lady lustier in carolling,
Or for to speak of love and womanhead;
Nor knight in arms to do a hardy deed,
To standen in grace of his lady dear,
Than had this priest this crafte for to lear;
And to the canon thus he spake and said;
"For love of God, that for us alle died,
And as I may deserve it unto you,
What shall this receipt coste? tell me now."
"By our Lady," quoth this canon, "it is dear.
I warn you well, that, save I and a frere,
In Engleland there can no man it make."
*"No force,"* quoth he; "now, Sir, for Godde's sake, *no
matter
What shall I pay? telle me, I you pray."
"Y-wis,"* quoth he, "it is full dear, I say.
*certainly
Sir, at one word, if that you list it have,
Ye shall pay forty pound, so God me save;
And n'ere* the friendship that ye did ere this *were it
not for
To me, ye shoulde paye more, y-wis."
This priest the sum of forty pound anon
Of nobles fet,* and took them every one
*fetched
To this canon, for this ilke receipt.
All his working was but fraud and deceit.
"Sir Priest," he said, "I keep* to have no los** *care
**praise <16>
Of my craft, for I would it were kept close;
And as ye love me, keep it secre:
For if men knewen all my subtlety,
By God, they woulde have so great envy
To me, because of my philosophy,
I should be dead, there were no other way."
"God it forbid," quoth the priest, "what ye say.
Yet had I lever* spenden all the good
*rather
Which that I have (and elles were I wood*),
*mad
Than that ye shoulde fall in such mischief."
"For your good will, Sir, have ye right good prefe,"* *results
of your
Quoth the canon; "and farewell, grand mercy."
*experiments*
He went his way, and never the priest him sey *
*saw
After that day; and when that this priest should
Maken assay, at such time as he would,
Of this receipt, farewell! it would not be.
Lo, thus bejaped* and beguil'd was he;
*tricked
Thus made he his introduction
To bringe folk to their destruction.

Consider, Sirs, how that in each estate
Betwixte men and gold there is debate,
So farforth that *unnethes is there none.* *scarcely is
there any*
This multiplying blint* so many a one, *blinds,
deceive
That in good faith I trowe that it be
The cause greatest of such scarcity.
These philosophers speak so mistily
In this craft, that men cannot come thereby,
For any wit that men have how-a-days.
They may well chatter, as do these jays,
And in their termes set their *lust and pain,* *pleasure and
exertion*
But to their purpose shall they ne'er attain.
A man may lightly* learn, if he have aught,
*easily
To multiply, and bring his good to naught.
Lo, such a lucre* is in this lusty** game; *profit
**pleasant
A manne's mirth it will turn all to grame,*
*sorrow <17>
And empty also great and heavy purses,
And make folke for to purchase curses
Of them that have thereto their good y-lent.
Oh, fy for shame! they that have been brent,*
*burnt
Alas! can they not flee the fire's heat?
Ye that it use, I rede* that ye it lete,** *advise
**leave
Lest ye lose all; for better than never is late;
Never to thrive, were too long a date.
Though ye prowl aye, ye shall it never find;
Ye be as bold as is Bayard the blind,
That blunders forth, and *peril casteth none;* *perceives no
danger*
He is as bold to run against a stone,
As for to go beside it in the way:
So fare ye that multiply, I say.
If that your eyen cannot see aright,
Look that your minde lacke not his sight.
For though you look never so broad, and stare,
Ye shall not win a mite on that chaffare,* *traffic,
commerce
But wasten all that ye may *rape and renn.* *get by hook or
crook*
Withdraw the fire, lest it too faste brenn;*
*burn
Meddle no more with that art, I mean;
For if ye do, your thrift* is gone full clean.
*prosperity
And right as swithe* I will you telle here
*quickly
What philosophers say in this mattere.

Lo, thus saith Arnold of the newe town, <18>
As his Rosary maketh mentioun,
He saith right thus, withouten any lie;
"There may no man mercury mortify,<13>
But* it be with his brother's knowledging."
*except
Lo, how that he, which firste said this thing,
Of philosophers father was, Hermes;<19>
He saith, how that the dragon doubteless
He dieth not, but if that he be slain
With his brother. And this is for to sayn,
By the dragon, Mercury, and none other,
He understood, and Brimstone by his brother,
That out of Sol and Luna were y-draw.* *drawn,
derived
"And therefore," said he, "take heed to my saw.
*saying
Let no man busy him this art to seech,* *study,
explore
*But if* that he th'intention and speech
*unless
Of philosophers understande can;
And if he do, he is a lewed* man. *ignorant,
foolish
For this science and this conning,"* quoth he,
*knowledge
"Is of the secret of secrets <20> pardie."
Also there was a disciple of Plato,
That on a time said his master to,
As his book, Senior, <21> will bear witness,
And this was his demand in soothfastness:
"Tell me the name of thilke* privy** stone." *that
**secret
And Plato answer'd unto him anon;
"Take the stone that Titanos men name."
"Which is that?" quoth he. "Magnesia is the same,"
Saide Plato. "Yea, Sir, and is it thus?
This is ignotum per ignotius. <22>
What is Magnesia, good Sir, I pray?"
"It is a water that is made, I say,
Of th' elementes foure," quoth Plato.
"Tell me the roote, good Sir," quoth he tho,*
*then
"Of that water, if that it be your will."
"Nay, nay," quoth Plato, "certain that I n'ill.*
*will not
The philosophers sworn were every one,
That they should not discover it to none,
Nor in no book it write in no mannere;
For unto God it is so lefe* and dear,
*precious
That he will not that it discover'd be,
But where it liketh to his deity
Man for to inspire, and eke for to defend'*
*protect
Whom that he liketh; lo, this is the end."

Then thus conclude I, since that God of heaven
Will not that these philosophers neven*
*name
How that a man shall come unto this stone,
I rede* as for the best to let it gon.
*counsel
For whoso maketh God his adversary,
As for to work any thing in contrary
Of his will, certes never shall he thrive,
Though that he multiply term of his live. <23>
And there a point;* for ended is my tale.
*end
God send ev'ry good man *boot of his bale.* *remedy for his
sorrow*

Note to the Canon's Yeoman's Tale

1. The Tale of the Canon's Yeoman, like those of the Wife of
Bath and the Pardoner, is made up of two parts; a long
general introduction, and the story proper. In the case of the
Wife of Bath, the interruptions of other pilgrims, and the
autobiographical nature of the discourse, recommend the
separation of the prologue from the Tale proper; but in the
other cases the introductory or merely connecting matter
ceases wholly where the opening of "The Tale" has been
marked in the text.

2. Jupartie: Jeopardy, hazard. In Froissart's French, "a jeu
partie" is used to signify a game or contest in which the
chances were exactly equal for both sides.

3. Squames: Scales; Latin, "squamae."

4. Descensories: vessels for distillation "per descensum;" they
were placed under the fire, and the spirit to be extracted was
thrown downwards.
Croslets: crucibles; French, "creuset.".
Cucurbites: retorts; distilling-vessels; so called from their
likeness in shape to a gourd -- Latin, "cucurbita."
Alembikes:stills, limbecs.

5. Seared pokettes: the meaning of this phrase is obscure; but
if we take the reading "cered poketts," from the Harleian
manuscript, we are led to the supposition that it signifies
receptacles -- bags or pokes -- prepared with wax for some
process. Latin, "cera," wax.

6. Argoil: potter's clay, used for luting or closing vessels in
the laboratories of the alchemists; Latin, "argilla;" French,
"argile."

7. Citrination: turning to a citrine colour, or yellow, by
chemical action; that was the colour which proved the
philosopher's stone.

8. Ingots: not, as in its modern meaning, the masses of metal
shaped by pouring into moulds; but the moulds themslves into
which the fused metal was poured. Compare Dutch,
"ingieten," part. "inghehoten," to infuse; German,
"eingiessen," part. "eingegossen," to pour in.

9. Threpe: name; from Anglo-Saxon, "threapian."

10. Bratt: coarse cloak; Anglo-Saxon, "bratt." The word is
still used in Lincolnshire, and some parts of the north, to
signify a coarse kind of apron.

11. Long on: in consequence of; the modern vulgar phrase "all
along of," or "all along on," best conveys the force of the
words in the text.

12. Annualere: a priest employed in singing "annuals" or
anniversary masses for the dead, without any cure of souls;
the office was such as, in the Prologue to the Tales, Chaucer
praises the Parson for not seeking: Nor "ran unto London,
unto Saint Poul's, to seeke him a chantery for souls."

13. Mortify: a chemical phrase, signifying the dissolution of
quicksilver in acid.

14. Blin: cease; from Anglo-Saxon, "blinnan," to desist.

15. Name: took; from Anglo-Saxon, "niman," to take.
Compare German, "nehmen," "nahm."

16. Los: praise, reputataion. See note 5 to Chaucer's tale of
Meliboeus.

17. Grame: sorrow; Anglo-Saxon, "gram;" German, "Gram."

18. Arnaldus Villanovanus, or Arnold de Villeneuve, was a
distinguished French chemist and physician of the fourteenth
century; his "Rosarium Philosophorum" was a favourite text-book
with the alchemists of the generations that succeeded.

19. Hermes Trismegistus, counsellor of Osiris, King of
Egypt, was credited with the invention of writing and
hieroglyphics, the drawing up of the laws of the Egyptians,
and the origination of many sciences and arts. The
Alexandrian school ascribed to him the mystic learning which
it amplified; and the scholars of the Middle Ages regarded
with enthusiasm and reverence the works attributed to him --
notably a treatise on the philosopher's stone.

20. Secret of secrets: "Secreta Secretorum;" a treatise, very
popular in the Middle Ages, supposed to contain the sum of
Aristotle's instructions to Alexander. Lydgate translated about
half of the work, when his labour was interrupted by his death
about 1460; and from the same treatise had been taken most
of the seventh book of Gower's "Confessio Amantis."

21. Tyrwhitt says that this book was printed in the "Theatrum
Chemicum," under the title, "Senioris Zadith fi. Hamuelis
tabula chymica" ("The chemical tables of Senior Zadith, son
of Hamuel"); and the story here told of Plato and his disciple
was there related of Solomon, but with some variations.

22. Ignotum per ignotius: To explain the unknown by the
more unknown.

23. Though he multiply term of his live: Though he pursue the
alchemist's art all his days.

THE MANCIPLE'S TALE.

THE PROLOGUE.

WEET* ye not where there stands a little town,
*know
Which that y-called is Bob-up-and-down, <1>
Under the Blee, in Canterbury way?
There gan our Hoste for to jape and play,
And saide, "Sirs, what? Dun is in the mire.<2>
Is there no man, for prayer nor for hire,
That will awaken our fellow behind?
A thief him might full* rob and bind
*easily
See how he nappeth, see, for cocke's bones,
As he would falle from his horse at ones.
Is that a Cook of London, with mischance? <3>
Do* him come forth, he knoweth his penance;
*make
For he shall tell a tale, by my fay,*
*faith
Although it be not worth a bottle hay.

Awake, thou Cook," quoth he; "God give thee sorrow
What aileth thee to sleepe *by the morrow?* *in the
day time*
Hast thou had fleas all night, or art drunk?
Or had thou with some quean* all night y-swunk,** *whore
**laboured
So that thou mayest not hold up thine head?"
The Cook, that was full pale and nothing red,
Said to Host, "So God my soule bless,
As there is fall'n on me such heaviness,
I know not why, that me were lever* sleep,
*rather
Than the best gallon wine that is in Cheap."
"Well," quoth the Manciple, "if it may do ease
To thee, Sir Cook, and to no wight displease
Which that here rideth in this company,
And that our Host will of his courtesy,
I will as now excuse thee of thy tale;
For in good faith thy visage is full pale:
Thine eyen daze,* soothly as me thinketh,
*are dim
And well I wot, thy breath full soure stinketh,
That sheweth well thou art not well disposed;
Of me certain thou shalt not be y-glosed.*
*flattered
See how he yawneth, lo, this drunken wight,
As though he would us swallow anon right.
Hold close thy mouth, man, by thy father's kin;
The devil of helle set his foot therein!
Thy cursed breath infecte will us all:
Fy! stinking swine, fy! foul may thee befall.
Ah! take heed, Sirs, of this lusty man.
Now, sweete Sir, will ye joust at the fan?<4>
Thereto, me thinketh, ye be well y-shape.
I trow that ye have drunken wine of ape,<5>
And that is when men playe with a straw."

And with this speech the Cook waxed all wraw,*
*wrathful
And on the Manciple he gan nod fast
For lack of speech; and down his horse him cast,
Where as he lay, till that men him up took.
This was a fair chevachie* of a cook: *cavalry
expedition
Alas! that he had held him by his ladle!
And ere that he again were in the saddle
There was great shoving bothe to and fro
To lift him up, and muche care and woe,
So unwieldy was this silly paled ghost.
And to the Manciple then spake our Host:
"Because that drink hath domination
Upon this man, by my salvation
I trow he lewedly* will tell his tale.
*stupidly
For were it wine, or old or moisty* ale,
*new
That he hath drunk, he speaketh in his nose,
And sneezeth fast, and eke he hath the pose <6>
He also hath to do more than enough
To keep him on his capel* out of the slough;
*horse
And if he fall from off his capel eftsoon,*
*again
Then shall we alle have enough to do'n
In lifting up his heavy drunken corse.
Tell on thy tale, of him *make I no force.* *I take no
account*
But yet, Manciple, in faith thou art too nice*
*foolish
Thus openly to reprove him of his vice;
Another day he will paraventure
Reclaime thee, and bring thee to the lure; <7>
I mean, he speake will of smalle things,
As for to *pinchen at* thy reckonings, *pick
flaws in*
That were not honest, if it came to prefe."*
*test, proof
Quoth the Manciple, "That were a great mischief;
So might he lightly bring me in the snare.
Yet had I lever* paye for the mare
*rather
Which he rides on, than he should with me strive.
I will not wrathe him, so may I thrive)
That that I spake, I said it in my bourde.*
*jest
And weet ye what? I have here in my gourd
A draught of wine, yea, of a ripe grape,
And right anon ye shall see a good jape.*
*trick
This Cook shall drink thereof, if that I may;
On pain of my life he will not say nay."
And certainly, to tellen as it was,
Of this vessel the cook drank fast (alas!
What needed it? he drank enough beforn),
And when he hadde *pouped in his horn,*
*belched*
To the Manciple he took the gourd again.
And of that drink the Cook was wondrous fain,
And thanked him in such wise as he could.

Then gan our Host to laughe wondrous loud,
And said, "I see well it is necessary
Where that we go good drink with us to carry;
For that will turne rancour and disease* *trouble,
annoyance
T'accord and love, and many a wrong appease.
O Bacchus, Bacchus, blessed be thy name,
That so canst turnen earnest into game!
Worship and thank be to thy deity.
Of that mattere ye get no more of me.
Tell on thy tale, Manciple, I thee pray."
"Well, Sir," quoth he, "now hearken what I say."

Notes to the Prologue to the Manciple's Tale

1. Bob-up-and-down: Mr Wright supposes this to be the village of
Harbledown, near Canterbury, which is situated on a hill, and
near
which there are many ups and downs in the road. Like Boughton,
where the Canon and his Yeoman overtook the pilgrims, it stood on
the skirts of the Kentish forest of Blean or Blee.

2. Dun is in the mire: a proverbial saying. "Dun" is a name for
an
ass, derived from his colour.

3. The mention of the Cook here, with no hint that he had already
told a story, confirms the indication given by the imperfect
condition of his Tale, that Chaucer intended to suppress the Tale
altogether, and make him tell a story in some other place.

4. The quintain; called "fan" or "vane," because it turned round
like
a weather-cock.

5. Referring to the classification of wine, according to its
effects on
a man, given in the old "Calendrier des Bergiers," The man of
choleric temperament has "wine of lion;" the sanguine, "wine of
ape;" the phlegmatic, "wine of sheep;" the melancholic, "wine of
sow." There is a Rabbinical tradition that, when Noah was
planting
vines, Satan slaughtered beside them the four animals named;
hence
the effect of wine in making those who drink it display in turn
the
characteristics of all the four.

6. The pose: a defluxion or rheum which stops the nose and
obstructs the voice.

7. Bring thee to his lure: A phrase in hawking -- to recall a
hawk to
the fist; the meaning here is, that the Cook may one day bring
the
Manciple to account, or pay him off, for the rebuke of his
drunkenness.

THE TALE. <1>

When Phoebus dwelled here in earth adown,
As olde bookes make mentioun,
He was the moste lusty* bacheler
*pleasant
Of all this world, and eke* the best archer.
*also
He slew Python the serpent, as he lay
Sleeping against the sun upon a day;
And many another noble worthy deed
He with his bow wrought, as men maye read.
Playen he could on every minstrelsy,
And singe, that it was a melody
To hearen of his cleare voice the soun'.
Certes the king of Thebes, Amphioun,
That with his singing walled the city,
Could never singe half so well as he.
Thereto he was the seemlieste man
That is, or was since that the world began;
What needeth it his features to descrive?
For in this world is none so fair alive.
He was therewith full fill'd of gentleness,
Of honour, and of perfect worthiness.