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 THE 
 
 BRITISH POETS. 
 
 ©ne l^tmBreXr Volumes. 
 VOL. II.
 
 THE 
 
 BRITISH POETS. 
 
 INCLUDING 
 
 TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 IN ONE HUNDRED VOLUMES. 
 
 II. 
 
 CHAUCER, VOL. II. 
 
 CHISWICK: 
 
 ^rinten b^ ®. aSH^ittingi^am, 
 
 COLLEGE house; 
 FOR J. CARPENTER, ,1. BOOKER, RODWELL AND MARTIN, 
 
 G. AND W. B. WHITTAKER, R. TRIPHOOK, J. EBERS, 
 
 TAYLOR AND HESSEY, R. JENNINGS, G. COWIE AND CO. 
 
 N. HAILES, J. PORTER, B. E. LLOYD AND SON, 
 
 C. SMITH, AND C. WHITTINGHAM. 
 
 182-2.
 
 THE^.'^ 
 
 POEMS 
 
 OF 
 
 QStonvt^ (S:f}mca% 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 CrijistDick : 
 
 FROM THE PRESS OF C. WHITTINGHAM, 
 
 COLLEGE HOUSE. 

 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 Page 
 THE CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 The Fiankelelnes Prologue 5 
 
 The Frankeleines Tale 7 
 
 The Doctoures Prologue 33 
 
 The Doctoures Tale • 33 
 
 The Pardoneres Prologae 42 
 
 The Pardoneres Tale 43 
 
 The Shipmannes Prologae 62 
 
 The Shipraannes Tale 63 
 
 The Prioresses Prologue 76 
 
 The Prioresses Tale 77 
 
 Prologue to Sire Thopas 84 
 
 The Rime of Sire Thopas 85 
 
 Prologue to Melibeus 92 
 
 The Tale of Melibeus 93 
 
 The Menkes Prologue 152 
 
 The MonkesTale l'j'> 
 
 The Nonnes Preestes Prologue ISO 
 
 The Nonnes Preestes Tale 181 
 
 The Second Nonnes Tale 200 
 
 The Chanones Yeniannes Prologue 218 
 
 The Chanones Yemannes Tale 223 
 
 The Manciples Prologue 245 
 
 The Manciples Tale 248 
 
 The Persones Prologue 256 
 
 The Persones Tale 258
 
 POEMS 
 
 OF 
 
 GEOFFREY CHAUCER. 
 
 ®!jc (TanterljurL) ^n\t%. 
 
 THE FRANKELEINES PROLOGUE. 
 
 In faith, Squier, thou hast thee wel yquit 
 And getilly, T preise wel thy wit, 
 Quod the Frankelein; considering thin youthe, 
 So feUngly thou spekest, sire, I aloue the 
 As to my dome, ther is non that is here, 
 Of eloquence that shal be thy pere. 
 If that thou live; God yeve thee goode chance, 
 And in vertue send thee continuance, 
 For of thy speking I have gret deintee. 
 I have a sone, and by the Trinitee 
 It were me lever than twenty pound worth lond, 
 Though it right now were fallen in my hond, 
 He were a man of swiche discretion. 
 As that ye ben: fie on possession, 
 But if a man be vertuous withal. 
 I have my soue snibbed, and yet shal, 
 VOL. II. B
 
 6 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 For he to vertue listeth not to entend. 
 But for to piay at dis, and to dispend, 
 And lese all that he hath, is his usage; 
 And he had lever talken with a page, 
 Than to commune with any gentil wight, 
 Ther he might leren gentillesse aright. 
 
 Straw for your gentillesse, quod our hoste. 
 What? Frankelein, parde, sire, wel thou wost. 
 That eche of you mote tellen at the lest 
 A tale or two, or breken his behest. 
 That know 1 wel, sire, quod the Frankelein, 
 I pray you haveth me not in disdein. 
 Though I to this man speke a word or two. 
 
 Tell on thy tale, withouten wordes mo. 
 
 Gladly, sire hoste, quod he, I wol obey 
 Unto your will; now herkeneth what I sey; 
 I wol you not contrarien in no wise, 
 As fer as that my wittes may suffice. 
 I pray to God that it may plesen you. 
 Than wot I wel that it is good ynow, 
 
 Thise olde gentil Bretons in hir dayes 
 Of diverse aventures maden layes, 
 Rimeyed in hir firste Breton tonge; 
 Which layes with hir instruments they songe. 
 Or elles redden hem for hir plesance. 
 And on of hem have I in remembrance. 
 Which I shal sayn with good wille as T can. 
 
 But, sires, because I am a borel man. 
 At my beginning first I you beseche 
 Have me excused of my rude speche. 
 I lerned never rhetorike certain; 
 Thing that I speke, it mote be bare and plain. 
 I slept never on the mount of Pernaso, 
 Ne lerned Marcus Tullius Cicero.
 
 THE FRANKELEINES TALE. 
 
 Colours ne know I non, withouten drede. 
 But swiche colours as growen in the mede, 
 Or elles swiche as men die with or peinte; 
 Colours of rhetorike ben to me queinte; 
 My spirit feleth not of swiche niatere. 
 But if you lust my tale shul ye here. 
 
 THE FRANKELEINES TALE. 
 
 In Armorike, that called is Bretaigne, 
 
 Ther was a knight, that loved and did his peine 
 
 To serve a ladie in his beste wise; 
 
 And many a labour, many a gret emprise 
 
 He for his lady wrought, or she were wonne : 
 
 For she was on the fairest under sonne, 
 
 And eke therto cooien of so high kinrede, 
 
 That wel unnethes durst this knight for drede 
 
 Tell hire his wo, his peine, and his distresse. 
 
 But at the last, she for his worthinesse. 
 
 And namely for his meke obeysance. 
 
 Hath swiche a pitee caught of his penance, 
 
 That prively she fell of his accord 
 
 To take him for hire husbcnd and hire lord; 
 
 (Of swiche lordship as men han over hir wives) 
 
 And, for to lede the more in blisse hir lives, 
 
 Of his free will he swore hire as a knight, 
 
 That never in all his lif he day ne night 
 
 Ne shulde take upon him no maistrie 
 
 Agains hire will, ne kithe hire jalousie. 
 
 But hire obey, and folwe hire will in al. 
 
 As any lover to his lady shal: 
 
 Save that the name of soverainetee 
 
 That wold he han for shame of his degree.
 
 8 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 She thonked him, and with ful gret humblesse 
 
 She saide; sire, sin of your gentillesse 
 
 Ye profren me to have so large a reine, 
 
 Ne wolde God never betwix us tvveine. 
 
 As in my gilt, vpere either werre or strif : 
 
 Sire, I wol be yoitr humble trewe vi'if, 
 
 Have here my trouth, till that myn herte breste. 
 
 Thus ben they both in quiete and in reste. 
 
 For o thing, sires, sautly dare I seie. 
 That frendes everich other must obeie. 
 If they wol longe holden compagnie. 
 Love wol not be constreined by maistrie. 
 Whan maistrie cometh, the God of love anon 
 Betetli his winges, and farewel, he is gon. 
 Love is a thing, as any spirit, free. 
 Women of kind desiren libertee, 
 And not to be constreined as a thral; 
 And so don men, if sothly I say shal. 
 Loke who that is most patient in love, 
 He is at his avantage all above. 
 Patience is an high vertue certain. 
 For it venquisheth, as thise clerkes sain, 
 Thinges that rigour never shulde atteine. 
 For every word men may not chide or pleine, 
 Lerneth to sufFren, or, so mote 1 gon. 
 Ye shul it lerne whether ye wol or non. 
 For in this world certain no wight ther is, 
 That he ne doth or sayth somtime amis. 
 Ire, sikenesse, or constellation. 
 Win, wo, or changing of complexion, 
 Causeth ful oft to don amis or speken: 
 On every wrong a man may not be wreken. 
 After the time must be temperance 
 To every wight that can of governance.
 
 THE FRANKELEINES TALE. 
 
 And theifore hath this worthy wise knight 
 (To liven in ese) suftVance hire behight; 
 And she to him fiil wisly gan to swere, 
 That never shuld ther be defaute in here. 
 
 Here may men seen an humble wise accord: 
 Thus hath she take hire servant and hire lord. 
 Servant in love, and lord in mariage. 
 Than was he both in lordship and servage? 
 Servage? nay, but in lordship al above. 
 Sin he hath both his lady and his love : 
 His lady certes, and his wif also. 
 The which that law of love accordeth to. 
 And whan he was in this prosperitee, 
 Home with his wif he goth to his contree. 
 Not fer fro Penmark, ther his dwelling was, 
 Wher as he liveth in blisse and in solas. 
 
 Who coude tell, but he had wedded be. 
 The joye, the ese, and the prosperitee. 
 That is betwix an husbond and his wif? 
 A yere and more lasteth this blisful lif. 
 Til that this knight, of which I spake of thus. 
 That of Cairrud was cleped Arviragus, 
 Shope him to gon and dwelle a year or twaine 
 In Engleloud, that cleped was eke Bretaigne, 
 To seke in armes worship and honour: 
 (For all his lust he set in swiche labour) 
 And dwelte ther two yere; the book saith thus. 
 
 Now wol I stint of this Arviragus, 
 And speke I wol of Dorigene his wif. 
 That loveth hire husbond as hire hertes lif. 
 For his absence wepeth she and siketh. 
 As don thise noble wives whan hem liketh ; 
 She morneth, waketh, waileth, fasteth, pleineth ; 
 Desir of his presence hire so distraineth, 
 
 B 2
 
 10 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 That all this wide world she set at nought. 
 Hire frendes, which that knew hire hevy tl'.oiiKht, 
 Coniforten hire in all that ever they may; 
 They prechen hire, they telle hire night and day. 
 That causeles she sleth hireself, alas ! 
 And every comfort possible in this cas 
 They don to hire, with ail hir besinesse, 
 Al for to make hire leve hire hevinesse. 
 
 By processe, as ye knowen everich on, 
 Men mowe so longe graven in a ston. 
 Til som figure therin emprented be : 
 So long han they comforted hire, til she 
 Received hath, by hope and by reson, 
 The emprenting of hir consolation, 
 Thurgh which hire grete sorwe gan assuage; 
 She may not alway duren in swiche rage. 
 And eke Arviragus, in all this care. 
 Hath sent his lettres home of his welfare, 
 And that he wol come hastily again, 
 Or elles had this sorwe hire herte slain. 
 
 Hire frendes saw hire sorwe gan to slake, 
 And preiden hire on knees for Goddes sake 
 To come and romen in hir compagnie. 
 Away to driven hire derke fantasie: 
 And finally she granted that request, 
 For wel she saw that it was for the best. 
 
 Now stood hire castel faste by the see. 
 And often with hire frendes walked she. 
 Hire to disporten on the bank an hie, 
 Wher as she many a ship and barge sie. 
 Sailing hir cours, wher as hem list to go. 
 But than was that a parcel of hire wo. 
 For to hireself ful oft, ala,s ! said she. 
 Is ther QO ship, of so many as I see.
 
 THE FRANXtiLEINES TALE. 11 
 
 Wol bringen home my lord? than were my herte 
 Al warished of his bitter peines smerte. 
 
 Another time wold she sit and thinke, 
 And cast her eyen douuward fro the brinke ; 
 But whan she saw the grisly rockes blake, 
 For veray fere so wold hire herte quake. 
 That on hire feet she might hire not sustene. 
 Than wold she sit adoun upon the grene. 
 And pitously into the see behold. 
 And say right thus, with careful sikes cold. 
 
 Eterne God, that thurgh thy purveance 
 Ledest this world by certain governance, 
 In idel, as men sain, ye nothing make. 
 But, lord, thise grisly fendly rockes blake. 
 That semen rather a foule confusion 
 Of werk, than any faire creation 
 Of swiche a partit wise God and stable. 
 Why han ye wrought this werk unresonable? 
 For by this werk, north, south, ne west, ne est, 
 Ther n'is yfostred man, ne brid, ne best: 
 Tt doth no good, to my wit, but anoj^eth. 
 See ye not, lord, how mankind it destroy eth? 
 An hundred thousand bodies of mankind 
 Han rockes slain, al be they not in mind; 
 Which mankind is so faire part of thy werk. 
 Thou madest it like to thyn owen merk. 
 Than, semeth it, ye had a gret chertee 
 Toward mankind; but how than may it be. 
 That ye swiche menes make it to destroy en ? 
 Which menes don no good, but ever anoyen. 
 
 I wote wel, clerkes wol sain as hem lest 
 By arguments, that all is for the best, 
 Though I ne can the causes nought yknow; 
 But thilke God that made the wind to blow,
 
 12 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 As kepe my lord, this is my conclusion : 
 To clerkes lete I all disputison: 
 But wolde God, that all thise rockes blake 
 Were sonken into helle for his sake. 
 Thise rockes slee min herte for the fere. 
 Thus wold she say with many a pitous tere. 
 
 Hire frendes saw that it was no disport 
 To romen by the see, but discomfort, 
 And shape hem for to plaien somwher elles. 
 They leden hire by rivers and by v.'elles. 
 And eke in other places delitables; 
 They dancen and they play at ches and tables. 
 
 So on a day, right in the morwe tide. 
 Unto a gardin that was ther beside, 
 In which that they had made hir ordinance 
 Of vitaille, and of other purveance. 
 They gon and plaie hem all the longe day: 
 And this was on the sixte morwe of May, 
 Which May had peinted with his softe shoures 
 This gardin ful of leves and of floures : 
 And craft of mannes bond so curiously 
 Arrayed had this gardin trewely. 
 That never was ther gardin of swiche pris, 
 But if it were the veray paradis. 
 The odour of floures, and the freshe sight, 
 W^old han yniaked any herte light 
 That ever was born, but if to gret sikenesse 
 Or to gret sorwe held it in distresse. 
 So ful it v/as of beautee and plesance. 
 
 And after dinner gonnen they to dance 
 And sing also, sauf Dorigene alone. 
 Which made alway hire complaint and hire mone, 
 For she ne saw him on the dance go, 
 That was hire husbond, and hire love also :
 
 THE FRANKELEINES TALE. 13 
 
 But nathlees she must a time abide, 
 And with good hope let hire sorwe slide. 
 Upon this dance, amonges other men, 
 Danced a squier before Dorigen, 
 That fresher was and jolier of array. 
 As to my dome, than is the month of May. 
 He singeth, danceth, passing any man. 
 That is or was sin that the world began; 
 Therwith he was, if men shuld him discrive, 
 On of the beste faring men on live, 
 Yong, strong, and virtuous, and riche, and wise, 
 And wel beloved, and holden in gret prise. 
 And shortly, if the soth I tellen shal, 
 Unweting of this Dorigene at al, 
 This lusty squier, servant to Venus, 
 Which that ycleped was Aurehus, 
 Had loved hire best of any creature 
 Two yere and more, as was his aventure: 
 But never dorst he tell hire his grevance, 
 Withouten cup he dranke all his penance. 
 He v/as dispeired, nothing dorst he say, 
 Sauf in his songes somwhat wold he wray 
 His wo, as in a general complaining; 
 He said, he loved, and was beloved nothing. 
 Of swiche matere made he many layes, 
 Songes, complaintes, roundels, virelayes; 
 How that he dorste not his sorwe telle. 
 But ianguisheth, as doth a furie in helle; 
 And die he must, he said, as did Ecco 
 For Narcissus, that dorst not tell hire wo. 
 
 In other maner than ye here me say, 
 Ne dorst he not to hire his wo bewray, 
 Sauf that paraventure somtime at dances, 
 Ther yonge folk kepen hir observances.
 
 14 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 It may wel be he loked on hire face 
 
 In swiche a wise, as man that axeth grace, 
 
 But nothing- wiste she of his entent. 
 
 Natheles it happed, or they thennes went. 
 
 Because that he was hire neighebour. 
 
 And was a man of worship and honour. 
 
 And had yknowen him of time yore, 
 
 They fell in speche, and forth ay more and more 
 
 Unto his purpos drow Aurelitis; 
 
 And whan he saw his time, he saide thus. 
 
 Madame, quod he, by God that this world made, 
 
 So that I wist it might your herte glade, 
 
 I wold that day, that your Arviragus 
 
 Went over see, that I Aurelius 
 
 Had went ther I shuld never come again ; 
 
 For wel 1 wot my service is in vain. 
 
 My guerdon n'is but bresting of min herte. 
 
 Madame, rueth upon my peines smerte. 
 
 For with a word ye may me sleen or save. 
 
 Here at your feet God wold that I were grave. 
 
 I ne have as now no leiser more to sey : 
 
 Have mercy, swete, or ye wol do me dey. 
 
 She gan to loke upon Aurelius; 
 Is this your will (quod she) and say ye thus? 
 Never erst (quod she) ne wist I what ye meut : 
 But now, Aurelie, I know your entent. 
 By thilke God that yaf me soule and lif, 
 Ne shal I never ben an untrewe wif 
 In word ne werk, as fer as I have wit, 
 I wol ben his to whom that I am knit: 
 Take this for final answer as of me. 
 But after that in play thus saide she. 
 
 Aurelie, (quod she) by high God above 
 Yet wol I granten you to ben your love.
 
 THE FRANK ELEINES TALE, 15 
 
 (Sin I you see so pitously complaine) 
 Loke, what day that endelong Bretaigne 
 Ye remue all the rockes, ston by ston, 
 That they ne letten ship ne bote to gon, 
 I say, whan ye hau made the cost so dene 
 Of rockes, that ther n'is no ston ysene. 
 Than wol I love you best of any man. 
 Have here my trouth, in all that ever I can; 
 For wel I wote that it shal never betide. 
 Let swiche folie out of your herte glide. 
 What deintee shuld a man have in his lif 
 For to go love another mannes wif. 
 That hath hire body whan that ever him liketh? 
 
 Aurelius ful often sore siketh; 
 Is ther non other grace in you? quod he. 
 
 No, by that lord, quod she, that maked me. 
 Wo was Aurelie whan that he this herd. 
 And with a sorweful herte he thus answerd. 
 
 Madame, quod he, this were an impossible. 
 Than moste I die of soden deth horrible. 
 And with that word he turned him anon. 
 
 Tho come hire other frendes many on, 
 And in the alleyes romed up and doun, 
 And nothing wist of this conclusioun, 
 But sodenly begonnen revel newe, 
 Til that the brighte sonne had lost his hewe. 
 For the orizont had reft the sonne his light; 
 (This is as much to sayn as it was night) 
 And home they gon in mirthe and in solas; 
 Sauf only wrecche AureHus, alas! 
 He to his hous is gon with sorweful herte. 
 He saith, he may not from his deth asterte. 
 Him seraeth, that he felt his herte cold. 
 Up to the heven his hondes gan he hold,
 
 16 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 And on his knees bare he set hira doun, 
 
 And in his raving said his orisoun. 
 
 For veray wo out of his wit he braide, 
 
 He n'iste what he spake, but thus he saide; 
 
 "With pitous herte his plaint hath he begonne 
 
 Unto the goddes, and first unto the sonne. 
 
 He said; Apollo, God and governour 
 
 Of every plante, herbe, tree, and flour. 
 
 That yevest after thy declination 
 
 To eche of hem his time and his seson. 
 
 As that thin herbergh changeth low and hie; 
 
 Lord Phebus, cast thy merciable eie 
 
 On wrecche Aurelie, which that am but lorne. 
 
 Lo, lord, my lady hath my deth ysworne 
 
 Withouten gilt, but thy benignitee 
 
 Upon my dedly herte have som pitee. 
 
 For wel I wot, lord Phebus, if you lest. 
 
 Ye may me helpen, sauf my lady, best. 
 
 Now voucheth sauf, that 1 may you devise 
 
 How that I may be holpe and in what wise. 
 
 Your blisful suster, Lucina the shene. 
 That of the see is chief goddesse and quene, 
 Though Neptunus have deitee in the see, 
 Yet emperice aboven him is she : 
 Ye knowe wel, lord, that right as hire desire 
 Is to be quiked and lighted of your fire. 
 For which she folweth you ful besily. 
 Right so the see desireth naturelly 
 To folwen hire, as she that is goddesse 
 Both in the see and rivers more and lesse. 
 Wherfore, lord Phebus, this is my request, 
 Do this miracle, or do min herte brest; 
 That now next at this opposition, 
 Whicli in the signe shal be of the Leon,
 
 THE FRANKELEINES TALE. 17 
 
 As preyeth hire so gret a flood to bring, 
 That five fadome at the lest it overspring 
 The highest rock in Anuorike Bretaigne, 
 And let this flood enduren yeres twaine: 
 Than certes to my lady may I say, 
 Holdeth your hest, the rockes ben away. 
 Lord Phebus, this miracle doth for me. 
 Prey hire she go no faster cours than ye ; 
 T say this, preyeth your suster that she go 
 No faster cours than ye thise yeres two: 
 Than shal she ben even at ful alway, 
 And spring-flood lasten bothe night and day. 
 And but she vouchesauf in swiche manere 
 To graunten me my soveraine lady dere. 
 Prey hire to sinken every rock adoun 
 Into hire owen derke regioun 
 Under the ground, ther Pluto dwelleth in, 
 Or nevermo shal I my lady win. 
 
 Thy temple in Delphos wol I barefoot seke. 
 Lord Phebus, see the teres on my cheke. 
 And on my peine have som compassioun. 
 And with that word, in sorwe he fell adoun. 
 And longe time he lay forth in a trance. 
 His brother, which that knew of his penance. 
 Dp caught him, and to bed he hath him brought. 
 Dispeired in this turment and this thought 
 Let I this woful creature lie, 
 Chese he for me whether he wol live or die. 
 
 Arviragus with hele and gret honour 
 (As he that was of chevalrie the flour) 
 Is comen home, and other worthy men: 
 O, blisful art thou now, thou Dorigen, 
 That hast thy lusty husbond in thin armes, 
 The freshe knight, the worthy man of armes, 
 VOL. II. c
 
 18 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 That loveth thee, as his owen hertes lif : 
 Nothing list him to be iniaginatif, 
 If any wight had spoke, while he was oute. 
 To hire of love; he had of that no doiite; 
 He not entendeth to no swiche matere. 
 But danceth, justeth, and maketh mery chere. 
 And thus in joye and blisse I let hem dwell, 
 And of the sike Aurelius wol I tell. 
 
 In langour and in turment furious 
 Two yere and more lay wreeche Aurelius, 
 Er any foot on erthe he mighte gon ; 
 IVe comfort in this time ne had he non, 
 Sauf of his brother, which that was a clerk. 
 He knew of all this wo and all this werk; 
 For to non other creature certain 
 Of this matere he dorste no word sain; 
 Under his brest he bare it more secree. 
 Than ever did Pamphilus for Galathee. 
 His brest was hole withouten for to seen, 
 But in his herte ay was the arwe kene, 
 And wel ye knowe that of a sursanure 
 In surgerie is perilous the cure. 
 But men might touch the arwe or come therby, 
 
 His brother wepeth and waileth prively. 
 Til at the last him fell in remembrance. 
 That while he was at Orleaunce in France, 
 As yonge clerkes, that ben likerous 
 To reden artes that ben curious, 
 Seken in every halke and every heme 
 Particuler sciences for to lerne. 
 He him remembred, that upon a day 
 At Orleaunce in studie a book he say 
 Of Magike naturel, which his felaw. 
 That was that time a bacheler of law,
 
 THE FRANKELEINES TALE. 19 
 
 Al were he tlier to lerne another craft, 
 Had prively upon his desk ylaft; 
 Which book spake moche of operations 
 Touching the eight and twenty mansions 
 That longen to the Mone, and swiehe folic 
 As in our dayes n'is not worth a flie: 
 Por holy cherches feith, in our beleve, 
 Ne suffreth non ilUision us to greve. 
 And whan this book was in his remembrance, 
 Anon for joye his herte gan to dance, 
 And to himself he saied prively ; 
 My brother shal be warished hastily : 
 For I am siker that ther be sciences. 
 By which men maken divers apparences, 
 Swiehe as thise subtil tregetoures play. 
 For oft at festes have I wel herd say. 
 That tregetoures, within an halle large, 
 Have made come in a water and a barge. 
 And in the halle rowen up and doun. 
 Somtime hath semed come a grim leoun, 
 And somtime floures spring as in a mede, 
 Somtime a vine, and grapes white and rede, 
 Somtime a castel al of lime and ston. 
 And whan hem liketh voideth it anon : 
 Thus semeth it to every mannes sight. 
 
 Now than conclude T thus, if that I might 
 At Orleaunce som olde felaw find. 
 That hath thise Mones mansions in mind, 
 Or other Magike naturel above, 
 He shuld wel make my brother have his love. 
 For with an apparence a clerk may make 
 To mannes sight, that all the rockes blake 
 Of Bretaigne were y voided everich on. 
 And shippes by the brinke comen and gon,
 
 20 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 And in swiche forme endure a day or two : 
 Than were my brother warished of his wo. 
 Than must she nedes holden hire behest, 
 Or elles he shal shame hire at the lest. 
 
 What shuld I make a lenger tale of this ? 
 Unto his brothers bed he comen is, 
 And swiche comfort he yaf him, for to gon 
 To Orleaunce, that he up stert anon. 
 And on his way forthward than is he fare, 
 In hope for to ben lissed of his care. 
 
 Whan they were come almost to that citee. 
 But if it were a two furlong or three, 
 A yonge clerk roming by himself they mette, 
 Which that in Latine thriftily hem grette. 
 And after that he sayd a wonder thing; 
 I know, quod he, the cause of your coming: 
 And or they forther any foote went, 
 He told hem all that was in hir entent. 
 
 This Breton clerk him axed of felawes. 
 The which he had yknowen in olde dawes. 
 And he answered him that they dede were, 
 For which he wept ful often many a tere. 
 
 Doun of his hors Aurelius light anon, 
 And forth with this magicien is gon 
 Home to his hous, and made hem wel at ese: 
 Hem lacked no vitaille that might hem plese. 
 So wel arraied hous as ther was on, 
 Aurelius in his lif saw never non. 
 
 He shewed hem, or thoy went to soupere, 
 Forestes, parkes ful of wilde dere. 
 Ther saw he hartes with hir homes hie. 
 The gretest that were ever seen with eie. 
 He saw of hem an hundred slain with houndes, 
 And som with arwes blede of bitter woundes.
 
 THE FRANKELEINES TALE. 21 
 
 He saw, whan voided were the wilde dere, 
 Thise fauconers upon a faire rivere, 
 That with hir haukes han the heron slain. 
 
 Tho saw he knightes justen in a plain. 
 And after this he did him swiche plesance, 
 That he him shewed his lady on a dance. 
 On which himselven danced, as him thought. 
 And whan this maister, that this magike wrought. 
 Saw it was time, he clapped his hondes two, 
 And farewel, al the revel is ago. 
 And yet remued they never out of the hous, 
 While they saw all thise sightes merveillous; 
 But in his studie, ther his bookes be. 
 They saten still, and no wight but they three. 
 
 To him this maister called his squier. 
 And sayd him thus, may we go to souper? 
 Almost an houre it is, I undertake. 
 Sin I you bade our souper for to make, 
 "VVhan that thise worthy men wenten with me 
 Into my studie, ther my bookes be. 
 
 Sire, quod this squier, whan it liketh you, 
 It is al redy, though ye wol right now. 
 
 Go we tiaan soupe, quod he, as for the best, 
 Thise amorous folk somtime moste han rest. 
 
 At after souper fell they in tretee 
 What summe shuld this malsters guerdon be, 
 To remue all the rockes of Bretaigne, 
 And eke from Gerounde to the mouth of Saine. 
 
 He made it strange, and swore, so God him save, 
 Lesse than a thousand pound he wold not have, 
 'Ne gladly for that summe he wold not gon. 
 
 Aurelius with blisful herte anon 
 Answered thus; fie on a thousand pound: 
 This wide world, which that men sayn is round, 
 
 c 2
 
 22 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 I wold it yeve, if I were lord of it. 
 
 This bargaine is ful-drive, for we ben knit; 
 
 Ye shul be paied trewely by my trouth. 
 
 But loketh, for non negligence or sloiith, 
 
 Ye tarie us here no lenger than to morwe. 
 
 Nay, quod this clerk, have here my faith to borwe. 
 
 To bed is gon Aurelius whan him lest, 
 And wel nigh all that night he had his rest, 
 What for his labour, and his hope of blisse. 
 His Avoful herte of penance had a lisse. 
 
 Upon the morwe whan that it was day, 
 To Bretaigne token they the righte way, 
 Aurelie, and this magicien him beside, 
 And ben descended ther they wold abide : 
 And this was, as the bookes me remember, 
 The colde frosty seson of December. 
 
 Phebus waxe old, and hewed like laton, 
 That in his bote declination 
 Shone as the burned gold, with stremes bright; 
 But now in Capricorne adoun he light, 
 Wher as he shone ful pale, I dare wel sain. 
 The bitter frostes with the sleet and rain 
 Destroyed han the grene in every yerd. 
 Janus sit by the fire with double herd, 
 And drinketh of his bugle horn the wine : 
 Beforn him stant braune of the tusked swine, 
 And nowel crieth every lusty man. 
 
 Aurelius in all that ever he can. 
 Doth to his maister chere and reverence, 
 And praieth him to don his diligence 
 To bringen him out of his peines smerte, 
 Or with a swerd that he wold slit his herte. 
 
 This sotil clerk swiche routh hath on this man. 
 That night and day he spedeth him, that he can,
 
 THE FRANKELEINES TALE. 23 
 
 To wait a time of his conclusion; 
 
 This is to sayn, to make illusion. 
 
 By swiche an apparence or joglerie, 
 
 (I can no termes of Astrologie) 
 
 That she and every wight shuld wene and say, 
 
 That of Bretaigne the rockes were away. 
 
 Or elles they were sonken under ground. 
 
 So at the last he hath his time yfound 
 
 To make his japes and his wretchednesse 
 
 Of swiche a superstitious cursednesse. 
 
 His tables Toletanes forth he brought 
 
 Ful wel corrected, that ther lacked nought, 
 
 Nother his collect, ne his expans yeres, 
 
 Nother his rotes, ne his other geres. 
 
 As ben his centres, and his argumentes, 
 
 And his proportionel convenientes 
 
 For his equations in every thing. 
 
 And by his eighte speres in his werking. 
 
 He knew ful wel how fer AInath was shove 
 
 Fro the hed of thilke fix Aries above. 
 
 That in the ninthe spere considered is. 
 
 Ful sotilly he calculed all this. 
 
 Whan he had found his firste mansion. 
 
 He knew the remenant by proportion; 
 
 And knew the rising of his mone wel. 
 
 And in whos face, and terme, and every del; 
 
 And knew ful wel the mones mansion 
 
 Accordant to his operation ; 
 
 And knew also his other observances, 
 
 For swiche illusions and swiche meschances, 
 
 As hethen folk used in thilke daies. 
 
 For which no lenger raaketh he delaies, 
 
 But thurgh his magike, for a day or tway, 
 
 It seraed all the rockes were av/ay.
 
 24 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 Aurelius, which that despehed is, 
 Whether he shal han his love, or fare amis, 
 Awaiteth night and day on this miracle : 
 And whan he knew that ther was non obstacle, 
 That voided were thise rockes everich on, 
 Doun to his maisters feet he fell anon. 
 And sayd; I woful wretch Aurelius, 
 Thanke you, my lord, and lady min Venus, 
 That me han holpen fro my cares cold. 
 And to the temple his way forth hath he hold, 
 Theras he knew he shuld his lady see. 
 And whan he saw his time, anon right he 
 With dredful herte and with ful humble chere 
 Salued hath his soveraine lady dere. 
 
 My rightful lady, quod this woful man. 
 Whom I most drede, and love, as I best can. 
 And lothest were of all this world displese, 
 N'ere it that I for you have swiche disese, 
 That T must die here at your foot anon, 
 Nought wold I tell how me is wo begon. 
 But certes other must I die or plaine; 
 Ye sle me gilteles for veray peine. 
 But of my deth though that ye han no routh, 
 Aviseth you, or that ye breke your trouth: 
 Repenteth you for thilke God above, 
 Or ye me sle, because that I you love. 
 For, madame, wel ye wote what ye have hight; 
 Not that I chalenge any thing of right 
 Of you, my soveraine lady, but of grace; 
 But in a gardin yond, in swiche a place. 
 Ye wote right wel what ye behighten me, 
 And in myn bond your trouthe plighten ye. 
 To love me best; God wote ye saied so, 
 Although that I unworthy be therto;
 
 THE FRANKELEINES TALE. 25 
 
 Madame, I speke it for the honour of you, 
 More than to save my hertes Uf right now : 
 I have don so as ye commanded me, 
 And if ye vouchesauf, ye may go see. 
 Doth as you list, have your behest in mind, 
 For quick or ded, right ther ye shul me lind: 
 In you lith all to do me live or dey, 
 But wel I wote the rockes ben awey. 
 
 He taketh his leve, and she astonied stood; 
 In all hire face n'as o drope of blood : 
 She wened never han come in swiche a trappe. 
 
 Alas ! quod she, that ever this shuld happe ! 
 For vrend I never by possibilitee. 
 That swiche a monstre or mervaille might be ; 
 It is again the processe of nature. 
 And home she goth a sorweful creature, 
 For veray fere unnethes may she go. 
 She wepeth, waileth all a day or two. 
 And swouneth, that it routhe was to see: 
 But why it was, to no wight tolde she, 
 For out of toun was gon Arviragus. 
 But to hireself she spake, and saied thus. 
 With face pale, and with ful sory chere. 
 In hire complaint, as ye shul after here. 
 
 Alas! quod she, on thee, fortune, I plain. 
 That unware hast me wrapped in thy chain : 
 Fro which to escapen, wote I no soccour, 
 Sauf only deth, or elles dishonour: 
 On of thise two behoveth me to chese. 
 But natheles, yet had I lever lese 
 My lif, than of my body have a shame. 
 Or know myselven false, or lese my name; 
 And with my deth I may be quit ywis. 
 Hath ther not many a noble wif or this,
 
 26 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 And many a maid yslaine hireself, alas ! 
 Rather than with hire body don trespas? 
 Yes certes; lo, thise stories here witnesse. 
 
 Whan thirty tyrants ful of cursednesse 
 Had slain Phidon in Athens at the fest. 
 They commanded his doughtren for to arrest, 
 And bringen hem beforne hem in despit 
 Al naked, to fulfill hir foule delit; 
 And in hir fadres blood they made hem dance 
 Upon the pavement, God yeve hem meschance. 
 For which thise woful maidens ful of drede, 
 Rather than they wold lese hir maidenhede, 
 They prively ben stert into a welle. 
 And dreint hemselven, as the bookes telle. 
 
 They of Messene let enquere and seke 
 Of Lacedomie fifty maidens eke, . 
 
 On which they wolden don hir lecherie : 
 But ther was non of all that compagnie 
 That she n'as slaine, and with a glad entent 
 Chees rather for to dien, than assent 
 To ben oppressed of hire maidenhede. 
 Why shuld I than to dien ben in drede? 
 
 Lo eke the tyrant Aristoclides, 
 That loved a maid hight Stimphalides, 
 Whan that hire father slaine was on a night, 
 CJnto Dianes temple goth she right. 
 And hente the image in hire handes two, 
 Fro which image wold she never go, 
 No wight hire handes might of it arrace. 
 Til she was slaine right in the selve place. 
 
 Now sin that maidens hadden swiche despit 
 To be defouled with mannes foUle delit, 
 Wei ought a wif rather hireselven sle. 
 Than be defouled, as it thinketh me.
 
 THE FRANKELEINES TALE. 27 
 
 What shal I sayn of Hasdrubales wif. 
 That at Cartage beraft hheself hire lif ? 
 For whan she saw that E-omains wan the toun. 
 She toke hire children ail, and skipt adoun 
 Into the fire, and chees rather to die, 
 Than any Roraain did hire vilanie. 
 
 Hath not Lucrece yslaine hireself, alas ! 
 At Rome, whan that she oppressed was 
 Of Tarquine ? for hire thought it was a shame 
 To liven, whan she hadde lost hire name. 
 
 The seven maidens of ?vlilesie also 
 Han slaine hemself for veray drede and wo, 
 Rather than folk of Gaule hem shuld oppresse. 
 
 Mo than a thousand stories, as I gesse, 
 Coude 1 now tell as touching this matere. 
 
 Whan Abradate was slain, his wif so dere 
 Hireselven slow, and let hire blood to ghde 
 In Abradates woundes, depe and wide, 
 And sayd, my body at the leste way 
 Ther shal no wight defoulen, if I may. 
 
 What shuld I mo ensamples hereof sain? 
 Sin that so many han hemselven slain 
 Wei rather than they wold defouled be, 
 I wol conclude that it is bet for me 
 To sle myself than be defouled thus. 
 I wol be trewe unto Arviragus, 
 Or elles sle myself in some manere. 
 As did Demotiones doughter dere. 
 Because she wolde not defouled be. 
 
 O Sedasus, it is ful gret pitee 
 To reden how thy doughtren died, alas! 
 That slowe hemselven for swiche maner cas. 
 
 As gret a pitee was it or wel more. 
 The Theban maiden, that for Nichanore
 
 28 CANTERBURY TALES, 
 
 Hireselven slow, right for swiche manere wo. 
 Another Theban niayden did right so. 
 For on of Macedoine had hire oppressed, 
 She with hire deth hire maidenhed redressed. 
 
 What shal I sain of Nicerates wif. 
 That for swiche cas beraft hireself hire lif ? 
 
 How trewe was eke to Alcibiades 
 His love, that for to dien rather chees, 
 Than for to suffVe his body unburied be? 
 
 Lo, which a wif was Alceste eke? (quod she) 
 What sayth Homere of good Penelope? 
 All Grece knoweth of hire chastitee. 
 
 Parde of Laodomia is written thus. 
 That whan at Troye was slain Prothesilaus, 
 No lenger wolde she live after his day. 
 
 The same of noble Portia tell I may; 
 Withouten Brutus coude she not live. 
 To whom she had all hoi hire herte yeve. 
 
 The parfit wif hood of Artemisie 
 Honoured is thurghout all Barbaric. 
 
 O Teuta quene, thy wifly chastitee 
 To alle wives may a mirrour be. 
 
 Thus plained Dorigene a day or twey. 
 Purposing ever that she wolde dey; 
 But natheles upon the thridde night 
 Home came Arviragus, the worthy knight. 
 And axed hire why that she weep so sore : 
 And she gan wepen ever lenger the more. 
 
 Alas, quod she, that ever I was yborne! 
 Thus have I said, (quod she) thus have I sworne. 
 And told him all, as ye have herd before: 
 It nedeth not reherse it you no more. 
 
 This husbond with glad chere in frendly wise 
 Answerd and sayd, -as I shal you devise.
 
 THE FRANKELEiNES TALE. 29 
 
 Is ther ought elles, Dorigene, but this? 
 
 Nay, nay, quod she, God helpe me so, as wis 
 This is to much, and it were Goddes will. 
 
 Ye, wif, quod he, let slepen that is still. 
 It may be vvel paraventure yet to-day. 
 Ye shal your trouthe holdeu by my fay. 
 For God so wisly have mercy on me, 
 I had wel lever stiked for to be. 
 For veray love which that I to you have. 
 But if ye shuld your trouthe kepe and save. 
 Trouth is the hiest thing that man may kepe. 
 But with that word he brast anou to wepe. 
 And sayd; I you forbede on peine of deth, 
 That never while you lasteth lif or breth, 
 To no wight tell ye this misaventure. 
 As I may best I wol my wo endure. 
 Ne make no contenance of hevinesse. 
 That folk of you may demen harrae or gesso. 
 And forth he cleped a squier and a maid. 
 Goth forth anon with Dorigene, he said, 
 And bringeth hire to swiche a place anon. 
 They take hir leve, and on hir way they gon : 
 But they ne wisten why she thider went. 
 She n'olde no wight tellen hire entent. 
 
 This squier, which that highte Aurelius, 
 On Dorigene that was so amorous. 
 Of aventure happed hire to mete 
 Amid the toun, right in the quikkest strete. 
 As she was boun to go the way forthright 
 Toward the gardin, ther as she had hight. 
 And he was to the gardinward also; 
 For wel he spied whan she wolde go 
 Out of hire hous, to any maner place: 
 But thus they met of aventure or grace, 
 
 VOL. II. D
 
 30 CANTERBURY TALES. - 
 
 And he salueth hire with glad entent, 
 And axeth of hire whiderward she went. 
 
 And she answered, half as she were mad. 
 Unto the gardin, as myn husbond bad, 
 My trouthe for to hold, alas ! alas ! 
 
 Aurelius gan wondren on this cas, 
 And in his herte had gret compassion 
 Of hire, and of hire lamentation. 
 And of Arviragiis the worthy knight. 
 That bad hire holden all that she had hight. 
 So loth him was his wif shuld breke hire trouthe. 
 And in his herte he caught of it gret routhe. 
 Considering the best on every side, 
 That fro his lust yet were him lever abide, 
 Than do so high a cherlish wretchednesse 
 Ageins fraunchise, and alle gentillesse; 
 For which in fewe wordes sayd he thus. 
 
 Madame, say to your lord Arviragus, 
 That sin I see the grete gentillesse 
 Of him, and eke I see wel your distresse, 
 That him were lever have shame (and that were 
 
 routhe) 
 Than ye to me shuld breken thus your trouthe, 
 I hadde wel lever ever to sufFren wo, 
 Than to depart the love betwix you two. 
 I you relese, madame, into your bond 
 Quit every seurement and every bond. 
 That ye ban made to me, as herebeforne. 
 Sin thilke time that ye were yborne. 
 Have here my trouthe, I shal you never repreve 
 Of no behest, and here I take my leve, 
 As of the trewest and the beste wif, 
 That ever yet I knew in all my lif. 
 But every wif beware of hire behest; 
 On Dorigenc remembreth at the lest.
 
 THE FRANKELEINES TALE. 31 
 
 Thus can a squier don a gentil dede, 
 As wel as can a knight, withouten drede. 
 
 She thanketh hira upon hire knees bare. 
 And home unto hire husbond is she fare, 
 And told him all, as ye han herd me sayd: 
 And, trusteth me, he was so wel apayd. 
 That it were impossible me to write. 
 
 What shuld I lenger of this cas endite? 
 Arviragus and Dorigene his wif 
 In soveraine blisse leden forth hir lif, 
 Never eft ne was ther anger hem betwene; 
 He cherished hire as though she were a quene, 
 And she was to him trewe for evermore : 
 Of thise two folk ye get of me no more. 
 
 Aurelius, that his cost hath all forlorne, 
 Curseth the time, that ever he was borne. 
 Alas! quod he, alas that I behight 
 Of pured gold a thousand pound of wight 
 Unto this philosophre! how shal I do? 
 I see no more, but that I am fordo. 
 Min heritage mote I nedes sell. 
 And ben a begger, here I n'ill not dwell. 
 And shamen all my kinrede in this place, 
 But I of him may geten better grace. 
 But natheles I wol of him assay 
 At certain daies yere by yere to pay. 
 And thanke him of his grete curtesie. 
 My trouthe wol I kepe, I wol not lie. 
 
 With herte sore he goth unto his cofre, 
 And broughte gold unto this philosophre. 
 The value of five hundred pound I gesse. 
 And him besecheth of his gentillesse 
 To graunt hira daies of the remenaunt. 
 And sayde; maister, I dare wel ma!;e avauut.
 
 32 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 I failled never of my trouthe as yet. 
 For sikerly my dette shall be quit 
 Towardes vou, how so that ever I fare 
 To gon a begging in my kirtle bare: 
 But wold ye vouchen sauf upon seurtee 
 Two yere or three for to respiten me, 
 Than were I wel, for elles mote I sell 
 Min heritage, ther is no more to tell. 
 
 This Philosophre sobrely answerd, 
 And saied thus, whan he thise wordes herd; 
 Have I not holden covenant to thee? 
 
 Yes cartes, wel and trewely, quod he. 
 Hast thou not had thy lady as thee liketh? 
 
 No, no, quod he, and sorwefully he siketh. 
 What was the cause? tell me if thou can. 
 
 Aurelius his tale anon began, 
 And told him all as ye han herd before. 
 It nedeth not reherse it any more. 
 He sayd, Arviragus of gentillesse 
 Had lever die in sorwe and in distresse, 
 Than that his wif were of hire trouthe fals. 
 The sorwe of Dorigene he told him als. 
 How loth hire was to ben a wicked wif. 
 And that she lever had lost that day hire lif; 
 And that her trouth she swore thurgh innocence ; 
 She never erst hadde herd speke of apparence : 
 That made me han of hire so gret pitee, 
 And right as freely as he sent hire to me. 
 As freely sent I hire to him again: 
 This is all and som, ther n'is no more to sain. 
 
 The Philosophre answerd; leve brother, 
 Everich of you did gentilly to other : 
 Thou art a squier, and he is a knight, 
 But God forbede for his blisful might.
 
 THE DOCTOURES TALE. 33 
 
 But if a clerk coud don a gentil dede 
 As wel as any of you, it is no diede. 
 
 Sire, I relese thee thy thousand pound, 
 As thou right now Avere crope out of the ground, 
 Ne never er now ne haddest knowen me. 
 For, sire, I wol not take a peny of thee 
 For all my craft, ne nought for my travaille: 
 Thou hast ypaied wel for my vitaille. 
 It is ynough, and farewel, have good day. 
 And toke his hors, and forth he goth his way. 
 
 Lordings, this question wold I axen now. 
 Which was the moste free, as thinketh you? 
 Now telleth me, or that ye further wende. 
 I can no more, my tale is at an ende. 
 
 THE DOCTOURES PROLOGUE. 
 
 Ye, let that passen, quod oure Hoste, as now. 
 Sire Doctour of Physike, I prey you. 
 Tell us a tale of som honest matere. 
 
 It shal be don, if that ye wol it here. 
 Said this doctour, and his tale began anon. 
 Now, good men, quotl he, herkeneth everich on. 
 
 THE DOCTOURES TALE. 
 
 Ther was, as telleth Titus Livius, 
 A knight, that cleped was Virginius, 
 Fulfilled of honour and worthinesse. 
 And strong of frendes, and of gret richesse. 
 This knight a doughter hadde by his wif. 
 No children had he mo in all his lif. 
 
 D 2
 
 34 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 Faire was this maid in excellent beautee 
 Aboven every wight that man may see : 
 For nature hath with soveraine diligence 
 Yformed hire in so gret excellence. 
 As though she wolde sayn, lo, I nature, 
 Thus can I forme and peint a creature. 
 Whan that me list; who can me contrefete? 
 Pigmalion? not, though he ay forge and bete, 
 Or grave, or peinte: for I dare wel sain, 
 Apelles, Xeuxis, shulden werche in vain. 
 Other to grave, or peinte, or forge, or bete. 
 If they presumed me to contrefete. 
 For he that is the former principal, 
 Hath maked me his vicaire general 
 To forme and peinten erthly creatures 
 Right as me list, and eche thing in my cure is 
 Under the mone, that may wane and waxe. 
 And for luy werk right nothing wol I axe; 
 My lord and I ben ful of on accord. 
 I made hire to the worship of my lord; 
 So do I all min other creatures, 
 What colour that they han, or what figures. 
 Thus semeth me that nature Avolde say. 
 
 This maid of age twelf yere was and tway, 
 In which that nature hadde swiche delit. 
 For right as she can peint a lily whit 
 And red a rose, right with swiche peinture 
 She peinted hath this noble creature 
 Er she was borne, upon hire limmes free, 
 Wheras by right swiche colours shulden be: 
 And Phcbus died hath hire tresses grete. 
 Like to the stremes of his burned hete. 
 And if that excellent were hire beautee, 
 A thousand fold more vertuous was she.
 
 THE DOCTOURES TALE. 35 
 
 In hire ne lacked no condition, 
 
 That is to preise, as by discretion. 
 
 As wel in gost as body, chast was she : 
 
 For which she floured in virginitee, 
 
 With all huniilitee and abstinence. 
 
 With all atteniperance and patience, 
 
 With raesure eke, of bering and array. 
 
 Discrete she was in answering alway. 
 
 Though she were wise as Pallas, dace I sain. 
 
 Hire facounde eke ful womanly and plain. 
 
 No contrefeted termes hadde she 
 
 To semen wise; but after hire degree 
 
 She spake, and all hire wordes more and lesse 
 
 Souning in vertue and in gentillesse. 
 
 Shamefast she was in maidens shamefastnesse. 
 
 Constant in herte, and ever in besinesse 
 
 To drive hire out of idel slogardie: 
 
 Bacchus had of hire mouth right no maistrie. 
 
 For wine and youthe don Venus encrese, 
 
 As men in fire wol casten oile and grese. 
 
 And of hire owen vertue unconstreined. 
 
 She hath hireself ful often sike yfeined. 
 
 For that she wolde fleen the compagnie, 
 
 Wher likely was to treten of folie, 
 
 As is at festes, at revels, and at dances, 
 
 That ben occasions of daliances. 
 
 Swiche thinges maken children for to be 
 
 To sone ripe and bold, as men may see, 
 
 Which is ful perilous, and hath ben yore; 
 
 For al to sone may she lernen lore 
 
 Of boldnesse, whan she woxen is a wif. 
 
 And ye raaistresses in j'our olde lif. 
 That lordes doughters han in governance, 
 Ne taketh of ray wordes displesance :
 
 36 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 Thinketh that ye ben set in governinges 
 Of lordes doughters, only for two thinges 
 Other for ye han kept your honestee, 
 Or elles for ye han fallen in freeltee, 
 And knowen wel ynough the olde dance, 
 And han forsaken fully swiche meschance 
 For evermo : therfore for Cristes sake 
 To teche hem vertue loke that ye ne slake. 
 
 A theef of venison, that hath forlaft 
 His likerousnesse, and all his olde craft. 
 Can kepe a forest best of any man: 
 Now kepeth hem wel, for if ye wol ye can. 
 Loke wel, that ye unto no vice assent. 
 Lest ye be damned for your wikke entent, 
 For who so doth, a traytour is certain: 
 And taketh kepe of that I shal you sain ; 
 Of alle treson soveraine pestilence 
 Is, whan a wight betrayeth innocence. 
 
 Ye fathers, and ye mothers eke also. 
 Though ye han children, be it on or mo, 
 Your is the charge of all hir surveance. 
 While that they ben under your governance. 
 Beth ware, that by ensample of your living, 
 Or by your negligence in chastising. 
 That they ne perish : for I dare wel saye, 
 Tf that they don, ye shul it dere abeye. 
 Under a shepherd soft and negligent. 
 The wolf hath many a shepe and lamb to-rent. 
 
 Sufficeth this ensample now as here. 
 For I mote turne agen to my matere. 
 
 This maid, of which T tell my tale expresse. 
 She kept hireself, hire neded no maistresse; 
 For in hire living maidens mighten rede, 
 As in a book, every good word and dede.
 
 THE DOGTOURES TALE. 37 
 
 That longeth to a maiden vertuous: 
 
 She was so prudent and so bounteous. 
 
 For which the fame out sprong on everj"^ side 
 
 Both of hire beautee and hire bountee wide : 
 
 That thurgh the lond they preised hire ech one. 
 
 That loved vertue, sauf envie alone, 
 
 That sory is of other mannes wele, 
 
 And glad is of his sorwe and his unhele. 
 
 The doctour maketh this descriptioun. 
 
 This maiden on a day went in the toun 
 Toward a temple, with hire mother dere. 
 As is of yonge maidens the manere. 
 
 Now was ther than a justice in that toun, 
 That governour was of that regioun : 
 And so befell, this juge his eyen cast 
 Upon this maid, avising hire ful fast. 
 As she came forth by ther this juge stood: 
 Anon his herte changed and his mood. 
 So was he caught with beautee of this maid. 
 And to himself ful prively he said, 
 This maiden shal be min for any man. 
 
 Anon the fend into his herte ran, 
 And taught him sodenly, that he by sleight 
 This maiden to his purpos winnen might. 
 For certes, by no force, ne by no mede, , 
 Him thought he was not able for to spede; 
 For she was strong of frendes, and eke she 
 Confermed was in swiche soveraiue bountee. 
 That wel he wist he might hire never winne. 
 As for to make hire with hire body sinne. 
 For which with gret deliberatioun 
 He sent after a cherl was in the toun. 
 The which he knew for sotil and for bold. 
 This juge unto this cherl his tale hath told 

 
 38 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 In secree wise, and made him to ensure, 
 He shulde tell it to no creature, 
 And if he did, he shulde iese his hede. 
 And whan assented was this cursed rede. 
 Glad was the juge, and maked him gret chere, 
 And yaf him yeftes precious and dere. 
 
 Whan shapen was all hir conspiracie 
 Fro point to point, how that his lecherie 
 Parformed shulde be ful sotilly. 
 As ye shul here it after openly. 
 Home goth this cherl, that highte Claudius. 
 This false juge, that highte Appius, 
 (So was his name, for it is no fable, 
 But knowen for an historial thing notable; 
 The sentence of it soth is out of doute) 
 This false juge goth now fast aboute 
 To hasten his debt all that he may. 
 And so befell, sone after on a day 
 This false juge, as telleth us the storie. 
 As he was wont, sat in his consistorie, 
 And yaf his domes upon sondry cas; 
 This false cherl came forth a ful gret pas, 
 And saide; lord, if that it be your will, 
 As doth me right upon this pitous bill. 
 In which I plaine upon Virginius. 
 And if that he wol sayn it is not thus, 
 I wol it preve, and finden good witnesse, 
 That soth is that my bille wol expresse. 
 
 The juge answerd, of this in his absence 
 I may not yeve diiEnitif sentence. 
 Let don him call, and I wol gladly here; 
 Thou shalt have right, and no wrong as now here. 
 
 Virginius came to wete the juges will, 
 And right anon was red this cursed bill;
 
 THE DOCTOURES TALE, 
 
 The sentence of it was as ye shul here. 
 
 To you, my lord sire Appiiis so dere, 
 Sheweth your poure servant Claudius, 
 How that a knight called Virginius, 
 Agein the lawe, agein all equitee, 
 Holdeth, expresse agein the will of me, 
 My servant, which that is my thral by right. 
 Which from min hous was stolen on a night 
 While that she was ful yong, I wol it preve 
 By witnesse, lord, so that it you not greve; 
 She n'is his doughter nought, what so he say. 
 Wherfore to you, my lord the juge, I pray; 
 Yelde me my thral, if that it be your will. 
 Lo, this was ail the sentence of his bill. 
 
 Virginius gan upon the cherl behold; 
 But hastily, er he his tale told, 
 And wold han preved it, as shuld a knight, 
 And eke by witnessing of many a wight. 
 That all was false, that said his adversary. 
 This cursed juge wolde nothing tary, 
 Ne here a word more of Virginius, 
 But yave his jugement, and saide thus. 
 
 I deme anon this cherl his servant have. 
 Thou shalt no lenger in thin hous hire save. 
 Go bring hire forth, and put hire in our ward. 
 The cherl shal have his thral; thus 1 award. 
 
 And whan this worthy knight Virginius, 
 Thurgh sentence of this justice Appius, 
 Muste by force his dere doughter yeven 
 Unto the juge, in lecherie to liven. 
 He goth him home, and set him in his hall, 
 And let anon his dere doughter call: 
 And with a face ded as ashen cold. 
 Upon hire humble face he gan behold.
 
 40 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 With fadres pitee stiking thurgh his herte, 
 Al wold he from his purpos not converte. 
 
 Dou-^hter, quod he, Virginia by thy name, 
 Ther ben two waies, other deth or shame, 
 That thou must suffre, alas that I was bore I 
 Por never thou deservedest wherfore 
 To dien with a swerd or with a knif. 
 O dere doughter, ender of my lif, 
 Which I have fostred up with swiche plesance. 
 That thou were never out of my remembrance; 
 O doughter, which that art my laste wo, 
 And in my lif my laste joye also, 
 O gemme of chastitee, in patience 
 Take thou thy deth, for this is my sentence; 
 For love and not for hate thou must be ded, 
 My pitous houd must smiten of thin hed. 
 Alas that ever Appius thee say! 
 Thus hath he falsely juged thee to-day. 
 And told hire all the cas, as ye before 
 Han herd, it nedeth not to tell it more. 
 
 O mercy, dere father, quod this maid. 
 And with that word she both hire amies laid 
 , About his necke, as she was wont to do, 
 (The teres brast out of hire eyen two,) 
 And said, O goode father, shal I die? 
 Is ther no grace? is iher no remedie? 
 
 No certes, dere doughter min, quod he. 
 Than yeve me leiser, father min, quod she, 
 My deth for to complaine a litel space : 
 For parde Jepte yave his doughter grace 
 For to complaine, or he hire slow, alas ! 
 And God it wot, nothing was hire trespas. 
 But for she ran hire father first to see. 
 To welcome him with gret solempnitee.
 
 THE DOCTOURES TALE. 41 
 
 And with that word she fell aswoune anon, 
 And after, whan lure swonning was agon, 
 She riseth up, and to hire father said : 
 Blessed be God, that I shall die a maid. 
 Yeve me my deth, or that I have a shame. 
 Doth with your child your wille a goddes name. 
 And with that word she praied him ful oft, 
 That with his swerd he wolde smite hire soft; 
 And with that word, aswoune again she fell. 
 Hire father, with ful sorweful herte and will. 
 Hire hed of smote, and by the top it hent. 
 And to the juge he gan it to present. 
 As he sat yet in dome in consistorie. 
 
 And whan the juge it saw, as saith the storie. 
 He bad to take him, and anhang him fast. 
 But right anon a thousand peple in thrast 
 To save the knight, for routh and for pitee. 
 For knowen was the false iniquitee. 
 
 The peple anon had suspect in this thing 
 By maner of the cherles chalenging. 
 That it was by the assent of Appius; 
 They wisten wel that he was lecherous. 
 For which unto this Appius they gon. 
 And caste him in a prison right anon, 
 Wheras he slow himself: and Claudius, 
 That servant was unto this Appius, 
 Was denied for to hange upon a tree; 
 But that Virginius of his pitee 
 So prayed for him, that he was exiled, 
 And elles certes had he ben begiled: 
 The remenant were anhanged, more and lesse. 
 That were consentant of tliis cursednesse. 
 
 Here men may see how sin hath his merite: 
 Beth ware, for no man wot whom God wol smite 
 
 VOL. II. E
 
 42 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 In no degree, ne in which maner wise 
 The wonne of conscience may agrise 
 Of wicked lif, though it so privee be. 
 That no man wote therof, sauf God and he ; 
 For be he lewed man or elles lered. 
 He n'ot how sone that he shal ben afered. 
 Tlierfore T rede you this conseil take, 
 Forsaketh sinne, or sinne you forsake. 
 
 THE PARDONERES PROLOGUE. 
 
 Our Hoste gan to swere as he were wood; 
 Harow ! (quod he) by nailes and by blood, 
 This was a false clierl, and a false justice. 
 As shameful deth, as herte can devise. 
 Come to thise juges and hir advocas. 
 Algate this sely maide is slain, alas! 
 Alas ! to dere abought she hire beautee. 
 Wherfore 1 say, that al day man may see. 
 That yeftes of fortune and of nature 
 Ben cause of deth to many a creature. 
 Hire beautee was hire deth, I dare wel sain; 
 Alas ! so pitously as she was slain. 
 Of bothe yeftes, that I speke of now. 
 Men han ful often more for harm than prow. 
 
 But trewely, min owen maister dere, 
 This was a pitous tale for to here : 
 But natheles, passe over, is no force. 
 I pray to God so save thy gentil corps, 
 And eke thyn urinals, and thy jordanes. 
 Thin Ypocras, and eke thy Galianes, 
 And every boist ful of thy letuarie, 
 God blesse hem and our lady Seinte Marie.
 
 THE PARDONERES PROLOGUE. 4i 
 
 So mote I the, thou art a pvopre man, 
 
 And like a prelat by Seint Ronian; 
 
 Said I not wel? 1 cannot speke in terme; 
 
 But wel I wot, thou dost min herte to erme. 
 
 That I have almost caught a cardiacle : 
 
 By corpus domini but I have triacle, 
 
 Or elles a draught of moist and corny ale, 
 
 Or but I here anon a mery tale, 
 
 Myn herte is lost for pitee of this maid. 
 
 Thou bel amy, thou pardoner, he said, 
 
 Tel us som mirth of japes right anon. 
 
 It shal be don, quod he, by Seint E onion. 
 But first (quod he) here at this ale-stake 
 I wol both drinke, and biten on a cake. 
 But right anon thise gentiles gan to crie ; 
 
 Nay, let him tell us of no ribaudrie. 
 Tell us som moral thing, that we mow lere, 
 Som wit, and thanne wol we gladly here. 
 I graunte ywis, quod he, but I must thinke 
 Upon som honest thing, while that I drinke. 
 
 THE PARDONERES TALE. 
 
 LoRDlNGS, quod he, in chirche whan I preclie, 
 I peine me to have an hautein speche, 
 And ring it out, as round as goth a bell, 
 For I can all by rote that I tell. 
 My terae is alway on, and ever was; 
 Radix malorum est cupiditas. 
 
 First I pronounce whennes that I come, 
 And than my buUes shew I all and some : 
 Our liege lordes sele on my patente, 
 That shew I first my body to warrente,
 
 44 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 That no man be so bold, ne preest ne clerk. 
 Me to disturbe of Cristes holy werk. 
 And after that than tell I forth my tales. 
 Bulles of popes, and of cardinales, 
 Of patriarkes, and bishoppes I shewe. 
 And m Latin I speke a wordes fewe, 
 To safl'ron with my predication. 
 And for to stere men to devotion. 
 Than shew I forth my longe cristal stones, 
 Ycrammed ful of cloutes and of bones, 
 Relikes they ben, as wenen they echon. 
 
 Than have I in laton a shulder bone, 
 Which that was of an holy Jewes shepe. 
 
 Good men, say I, take of ray wordes kepe; 
 If that this bone be washe in any well. 
 If cow, or calf, or shepe, or oxe swell, 
 That any worm hath ete, or worm ystonge. 
 Take water of that well, and wash his tonge. 
 And it is hole anon : and forthermore 
 Of pockes, and of scab, and every sore 
 Shal every shepe be hole, that of this well 
 Drinketh a draught; take kepe of that I tell. 
 
 If that the good man, that the bestes oweth, 
 Wol every weke, er that the cok him croweth, 
 Fasting ydrinken of this wel a draught. 
 As thilke holy Jew our eldres taught. 
 His bestes and his store shal multiplie. 
 And, sires, also it heleth jalousie. 
 For though a man be falle in jalous rage. 
 Let maken with this water his potage, 
 And never shal he more his wif mistrist. 
 Though he the soth of hire defaute wist; 
 Al had she taken preestes two or three. 
 
 Here is a mitaine eke, that ye may see:
 
 ' THE PARDONERES TALE. 45 
 
 He that his hand wol put in this mitaine, 
 He shal have multiplying of his graine, 
 Whan he hath sowen, be it whete or otes. 
 So that he offer pens or elles grotes. 
 
 And, men and women, o thing warne I you: 
 If any wight be in this chirche now. 
 That hath don sinne horrible, so that he 
 Dare not for shame of it y shriven be: 
 Or any woman, be she yong or old. 
 That hath ymade hire husbond cokewold, 
 Swiche folk shul han no power ne no grace 
 To offer to my relikes in this place. 
 And whoso findeth him out of swiche blame. 
 He wol come up and offer in Goddes name. 
 And I assoyle him by the auctoritee, 
 Which that by buUe ygranted was to me. 
 
 By this gaude have 1 wonnen yere by yere 
 An hundred mark, sin I was pardonere. 
 I stonde like a clerk in my pulpet. 
 And whan the levved peple is doun yset, 
 I preche so as ye han herd before. 
 And tell an hundred false japes more. 
 Than peine I me to stretchen forth my necke, 
 And est and west upon the peple I becke. 
 As doth a dove, sitting upon a berne: 
 Myn hondes and ray tonge gon so j'^erne. 
 That it is joye to see my besinesse. 
 Of avarice and of swiche cursednesse 
 Is all my preching, for to make hem free 
 To yeve hir pens, and namely unto me. 
 Por min entente is not but for to winne. 
 And nothing for correction of sinne. 
 I recke never whan that they be beried, 
 Though that hir soules gon a blake beried. 
 
 E 2
 
 46 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 For certes many a predication 
 Cometh oit time of evil entention : 
 Som for plesanee of folk, and tlaterie, 
 To ben avanced by hypocrisie; 
 And som for vaine glorie, and som for hate. 
 For whan I dare non other wayes debate, 
 Than wol I sting him with my tonge smerte 
 In preching, so that he shal not asterte 
 To ben defamed falsely, if that he 
 Hath trespased to my brethren or to me. 
 For though I telle not his propre name, 
 Men shal wel knowen that it is the same 
 By signes, and by other circumstances. 
 Thus quite I folk, that don us displesances ; 
 Thus spit I out my venime under hewe 
 Of holinesse, to seme holy and trewe. 
 But shortly min entente I v/ol devise, 
 I preche of nothing but for covetise. 
 Therfore my teme is yet, and ever was. 
 Radix malorum est ciipiditas. 
 
 Thus can I preche again the same vice 
 Which that 1 use, and that is avarice. 
 But though myself be gilty in that sinne, 
 Yet can I maken other folk to twinne 
 From avarice, and sore hem to repente. 
 But that is not my principal entente; 
 I preche nothing but for covetise. 
 Of this matere it ought ynough suffise. 
 
 Than tell 1 hem ensamples many on 
 Of olde stories longe time agon. 
 For lewed peple loven tales olde; 
 Swiche thinges can they wel report and holde. 
 What? trowen ye, that whiles I may preche 
 And winnen gold and silver for I teche.
 
 THE PARDONERES TALE. 47 
 
 That I wol live in poverte wilfully? 
 
 Nay, nay, I thought it never trewely. 
 
 For I wol preche and beg in sondry londes, 
 
 I wol not do no laboui" with min hondes, 
 
 Ne make baskettes for to live therby. 
 
 Because I wol not beggen idelly. 
 
 I wol non of the apostles contrefete : 
 
 I wol have money, wolle, chese, and whete, 
 
 Al were it yeven of the pourest page, 
 
 Or of the pourest widewe in a village: 
 
 Al shulde hire children sterven for famine. 
 
 Nay, I wol drinke the licour of the vine, 
 
 And have ajoly wenche in every toun. 
 
 But herkeneth, lordings, in conclusioun, 
 Your liking is that I shal tell a tale. 
 Now I have dronke a draught of corny ale, 
 By God T hope I shal you tell a thing. 
 That shal by reson ben at your liking: 
 For though myself be a ful vicious man, 
 A moral tale yet I you tellen can. 
 Which I am wont to prechen, for to winne. 
 Now hold your pees, my tale I wol beginne. 
 
 In Flandres whilom was a compagnie 
 Of yonge folk, that haunteden folic. 
 As hasard, riot, stevves, and tavernes; 
 AVheras with harpes, lutes, and giternes. 
 They dance and plaie at dis bothe day and night, 
 And ete also, and drinke over hir might; 
 Thurgh which they don the devil sacrifice 
 Within the devils temple, in cursed wise. 
 By superfluitee abhominable. 
 Hir othes ben so gret and so damnable, , 
 That it is grisly for to here hem swere. 
 Our blisful lordes body they to-tere;
 
 48 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 Hem thought the Jewes rent him not ynough; 
 And eche of hem at others sinne lough. 
 
 And right anon in comen tombesteres 
 Fetis and sraale, and yonge fruitesteres. 
 Singers with harpes, baudes, wafereres. 
 Which ben the veray devils officeres. 
 To kindle and blow the fire of lecherie, 
 That is annexed unto glotonie. 
 The holy writ take I to my witnesse, 
 That luxurie is in wine and dronkenesse. 
 
 Lo, how that dronken Loth unkindely 
 Lay by his daughters two unwetingly, 
 So dronke he was he n'iste what he wrought. 
 
 Herodes, who so wel the stories sought. 
 Whan he of wine replete was at his feste, 
 Right at his owen table he yave his heste 
 To sleeu the Baptist John ful gilteles. 
 
 Seneca saith a good word douteles : 
 He saith he can no difference find 
 Betwix a man that is out of his mind, 
 And a man whiche that is dronkelew: 
 But that woodnesse, yfallen in a shrew, 
 Persevereth lenger than doth dronkenesse. 
 
 O glotonie, full of cursednesse; 
 O cause first of our confusion, 
 O original of our damnation. 
 Til Crist had bought us with his blood again. 
 Loketh, how dere, shortly for to sain, 
 Abought was thilke cursed vilanie : 
 Corrupt was all this world for glotonie. 
 
 Adam our father, and his wif also. 
 Fro Paradis, to labour and to wo, 
 Were driven for that vice, it is no drede. 
 For while that Adam fasted, as I rede.
 
 THE PARDONERES TALE. 49 
 
 He was in Paradis, and whan that he 
 Ete of the fruit defended on a tree, 
 Anon he was out cast to wo and peine. 
 
 glotonie, on thee wel ought us plaine. 
 O, wist a man how many maladies 
 
 Folwen of excesse and of glotonies, 
 He wolde ben the more mesurable 
 Of his diete, sitting at his table. 
 Alas ! the shorte throte, the tendre mouth, 
 Maketh that Est and West, and North and South, 
 In erthe, in air, in water, men to-swinke, 
 To gete a gloton deintee mete and drinke. 
 Of this matere, O Poule, wel canst thou trete. 
 INlete unto wombe, and wombe eke unto mete 
 Shal God destroien bothe, as Paulus saith. 
 Alas! a foule thing is it by my faith 
 To say this word, and fouler is the dede, 
 Whan man so drinketh of the white and rede. 
 That of his throte he maketh his privee 
 Thurgh thilkfe cursed superfluitee. 
 
 The Apostle saith weping ful pitously, 
 Ther walken many, of which you told have I, 
 
 1 say it now weping with pitous vois, 
 That they ben enemies of Cristes crois : 
 
 Of whiche the end is deth, womb is hir God. 
 O wombe, O belly, stinking is thy cod. 
 Fulfilled of dong and of corruptioun; 
 At either end of thee foule is the soun. 
 How gret labour and cost is thee to find ! 
 Thise cokes how they stamp, and strein, and grind. 
 And turnen substance into accident, 
 To fulfill all thy likerous talent ! 
 Out of the harde bones knocken they 
 The mary, for they casten nought away.
 
 50 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 That may go thurgh the gullet soft and sote : 
 
 Of spicerie, of leef, of barke, and rote, 
 
 Shal ben his sause yniaked by delit 
 
 To make him yet a newer appetit. 
 
 But certes he, that haunteth swiche delices, 
 
 Is ded, while that he liveth in tho vices. 
 
 A lecherous thing is wine, and dronkenesse 
 Is ful of striving and of wretchednesse. 
 O dronken man, disfigured is thy face, 
 Sour is thy breth, foul art thou to enbrace: 
 And thurgh thy dronken nose semeth the soun, 
 As though thou saidest ay, Sampsoun, Sampsoun : 
 Andyet, God wot, Sampsoundronkneverno wine. 
 Thou fallest, as it were a stiked swine : 
 Thy tonge is lost, and all thin honest cure, 
 For dronkenesse is veray sepulture 
 Of mannes wit, and his discretion. 
 In whom that drinke hath domination, 
 He can no conseil kepe, it is no drede. 
 Now kepe you fro the white and fro the rede, 
 And namely fro the white wine of Lepe, 
 That is to sell in Fishstrete and in Chepe. 
 This wine of Spaigne crepeth subtilly 
 In other wines growing faste by, 
 Of which ther riseth swiche fumositee. 
 That whan a man hath dronken draughtes three. 
 And weneth that he be at home in Chepe, 
 He is in Spaigne, right at the toun of Lepe, 
 Not at the Rochell, ne at Burdeux toun; 
 And thanne wol he say, Sampsoun, Sampsoun. 
 
 But herkeneth, lordings, o word, I you pray, 
 That all the soveraine actes, dare I say. 
 Of victories in the Okie Testament, 
 Thurgh veray God, that is omnipotent,
 
 THE PARDONERES TALE. 51 
 
 Were don in abstinence and in prayere: 
 Loketh the Bible, and ther ye mow it lere. 
 
 Loke Attila, the grete conquerour. 
 Died in his slepe, with shame and dishonour, 
 Bleding- ay at his nose in dronkenesse : 
 A capitaine shidde live in sobrenesse. 
 
 And over all this, aviseth you right wel. 
 What was commanded unto Lamuel; 
 Not Samuel, but Lamuel say I. 
 Redeth the Bible, and find it espresly 
 Of wine yeving to hem that have justice. 
 No more of this, for it may wel suffice. 
 
 And now that I have spoke ofglotonie, 
 Now wol I you defenden hasardrie. 
 Hasard is veray moder of lesinges, 
 And of deceite, and cursed forsweringes : 
 Blaspheming of Crist, manslaughter, and wast also 
 Of catel, and of time; and forthermo 
 It is repreve, and contrary of honour. 
 For to ben hold a commun hasardour. 
 And ever the higher he is of estat, 
 The more he is holden desolat. 
 If that a Prince useth hasarderie, 
 In alle governance and policie 
 He is, as by commun opinion, 
 Yhold the lesse in reputation. 
 
 Stilbon, that was a wise embassadour. 
 Was sent to Corinth with ful gret honour 
 Fro Calidone, to maken hem alliance: 
 And whan he came, it happed him par chance, 
 That all the gretest that were of that lond 
 Yplaying atte hasard he hem fond. 
 For which, as sone as that it mighte be. 
 He stale him home agein to his contree,
 
 52 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 And sayde ther, I wol not lese my name, 
 Ne wol not take on me so gret defame. 
 You for to aliie unto non hasardours. 
 Sendeth som other wise embassadours, 
 For by my trouthe, me were lever die, 
 Than I you shuld to hasardours allie. 
 For ye, that ben so glorious in honours, 
 Shal not allie you to non hasardours, 
 As by my wille, ne as by my tretee. 
 This wise philosophre thus sayd he. 
 
 Loke eke how to the king Demetrius 
 The king of Parthes, as the book sayth us. 
 Sent him a pair of dis of gold in scorne, 
 For he had used hasard therbeforne: 
 For which he held his glory and his renoun 
 At no value or roputatioun. 
 Lordes may finden other manor play 
 Honest ynough to drive the day away. 
 
 Now wol I speke of others false and grete 
 A word or two, as olde bookes trete. 
 i&ret swering is a thing abhorainable. 
 And false swering is yet more reprevable. 
 The highe God forbad swering at al, 
 Witnesse on Mathew: but in special 
 Of swering sayth the holy Jeremie, 
 Thou shalt swere soth thin othes, and not lie; 
 And swere in dome, and eke in rightwisnesse; 
 But idel swering is a cursednesse. 
 
 Behold and see, that in the firste table 
 Of highe Goddes hestes honourable, 
 How that the second best of him is this. 
 Take not my name in idel or amis. 
 Lo, rather he forbedeth swiche swering, 
 Than homicide, or many an otlier thing.
 
 THE PARDONERES TALE. 53 
 
 I say that as by ordie thus it stondeth; 
 This knoweth he that his hestes understondeth. 
 How that the second hest of God is that. 
 And forthermore, I wol thee tell all plat, 
 That vengeance shal not parten from his hous. 
 That of his othes is outrageous. 
 By Goddes precious herte, and by his nailes, 
 And by the blood of Crist, that is in Hailes, 
 Seven is my chance, and thin is sink and treye: 
 By Goddes amies, if thou falsely pleye. 
 This dagger shal thurghout thin herte go. 
 This fruit cometh of the bicchel bones two, 
 Forswering, ire, falsenesse, and homicide. 
 
 Now for the love of Crist that for us dide, 
 Leteth your othes, bothe gret and smale. 
 But, sires, now wol I tell you forth my tale. 
 
 Thise riotoures three, of which I tell. 
 Long erst or prime rong of any bell. 
 Were set hem in a taverne for to drinke: 
 And as they sat, they herd a belle clinke 
 Beforn a corps, was carried to his grave : 
 That on of hem gan callen to his knave. 
 Go bet, quod he, and axe redily. 
 What corps is this, that passeth here forth by: 
 And loke that thou report his name wel. 
 
 Sire, quod this boy, it nedeth never a del; 
 It was me told or ye came here two houres; 
 He was parde an old felaw of youres, 
 And sodenly he was y slain to-night, 
 Fordronke as he sat on his benche upright, 
 Ther came a privee theef, men clepen Deth, 
 That in this contree all the peple sleth. 
 And with his spere he smote his herte atwo. 
 And went his way withouten wordes mo. 
 
 VOL. II. F
 
 54 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 He hath a thousand slain this pestilence : 
 And, maister, or ye come in his presence, 
 Me thinketh that it were ful necessarie. 
 For to beware of swiche an adversarie : 
 Beth redy for to mete him evermore. 
 Thus taughte me my dame, I say no more. 
 
 By Seinte Marie, sayd this tavernere. 
 The child sayth soth, for he hath slain this yere 
 Hens over a mile, within a gret village. 
 Both man and woman, child, and hyne, and page ; 
 I trowe this habitation be there : 
 To ben avised gret wisdome it were, 
 Or that he did a man a dishonour. 
 
 Ye, Goddes armes, quod this riotour, 
 Is it swiche peril with him for to mete? 
 I shal him seke by stile and eke by strete. 
 I make a vow by Goddes digne bones. 
 Herkeneth, felawes, we three ben all ones: 
 Let eche of us hold up his hond to other. 
 And eche of us bocoraen others brother. 
 And we wol slen this false traitour deth: 
 He shal be slain, he that so many sleth, 
 By Goddes dignitee, or it be night. 
 
 Togeder han thise three hir trouthes plight 
 To live and dien eche of hem for other. 
 As though he were his owen boren brother. 
 And up they stert al dronken in this rage. 
 And forth they gon towardes that village, 
 Of which the taverner had spoke beforn, 
 And many a grisly oth than have they sworn, 
 And Cristes blessed body they to-rent; 
 Deth shal be ded, if that we may him hent. 
 
 Whan they han gon not fully half a mile, 
 Right as they wold han troden over a stile.
 
 THE PARDONERES TALE. 55 
 
 An olde mao and a poiire with hem mette. 
 
 This okle man ful raekely hem grette, 
 
 And sayde thus; Now, lordes, God you see. 
 
 The proudest of thise riotoures three 
 Answerd agen; What? cherl, with sory grace, 
 Why art thou all forwrapped save thy face? 
 Why livest thou so longe in so gret age ? 
 
 This olde man gan loke in his visage, 
 And sayde thus; For I ne cannot finde 
 A man, though that I walked into Inde, 
 Neither in citee, ne in no village. 
 That wolde change his youthe for min age; 
 And therfore mote I han min age still 
 As longe time as it is Goddes will. 
 Ne deth, alas ! ne will not han my lif. 
 Thus walke I like a resteles caitif. 
 And on the ground, which is my modres gate, 
 I knocke with my staf, erlich and late, 
 And say to hire, Leve mother, let me in. 
 Lo, how I vanish, flesh, and blood, and skin, 
 Alas! whan shul my bones ben at reste? 
 Mother, with you wold I changen my cheste, 
 That in my chambre longe time hath be, 
 Ye, for an heren clout to wrap in me. 
 But yet to me she wol not don that grace. 
 For which ful pale and walked is my face. 
 
 But, sires, to you it is no curtesie 
 To speke unto an olde man vilanie. 
 But he trespase in word or elles in dede. 
 In holy writ ye moun yourselven rede; 
 Ageins an olde man, hore upon his hede. 
 Ye shuld arise: therfore I yeve you rede, 
 Ne doth unto an olde man non harm now. 
 No more than that ye wold a man did you
 
 56 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 In age, if that ye may so long abide. 
 And God be with you, wher ye go or ride. 
 I raoste go thider as I have to go. 
 
 Nay, olde cherl, by God thou shalt not so; 
 Sayde this other hasardour anon ; 
 Thou partest not so lightly by Seint John. ■ 
 Thou spake right now of thilke traitour deth. 
 That in this contree all our frendes sleth; 
 Have here my trouth as thou art his espie; 
 Tell wher he is, or thou shalt it abie, 
 By God and by the holy Sacrement; 
 For sothly thou art on of his assent 
 To slen us yonge folk, thou false thefe. 
 
 Now, sires, quod he, if it be you so lefe 
 To finden deth, tourne up this croked way, 
 For in that grove 1 left him by my fay 
 Under a tree, and ther he wol abide; 
 Ne for your best he wol him nothing hide. 
 Se ye that oke? right ther ye shuln him find. 
 God save you, that bought agen mankind, 
 And you amende; thus sayd this olde man. 
 
 And everich of thisc riotoures ran. 
 Til they came to the tree, and ther they found 
 Of Floreins fine of gold ycoined round, 
 Wei nigh an eighte bushels, as hem thought. 
 No lenger as than after dethe they sought. 
 But eche of hem so glad was of the sight. 
 For that the floreins ben so faire and bright. 
 That doun they sette hem by the precious hord. 
 The werste of hem he spake the firste word. 
 
 Brethren, quod he, take kepe what I shal say; 
 My wit is gret, though that I bourde and play. 
 This tresour hath fortune unto us yeven 
 In mirth and jolitee our lif to liven.
 
 THE PARDONERES TALE. 57 
 
 And lightly as it cometh, so wol we spend. 
 Ey, Goddes precious dignitee, who wend 
 To-day, that we shuld han so faire a grace? 
 But might this gold be caried fro this place 
 Home to myn hous, or elles unto youres, 
 (For wel I wote that all this gold is oures) 
 Thanne were we in high felicitee. 
 But trewely by day it may not be; 
 Men wolden say that we were theeves strong. 
 And for our owen tresour don us hong. 
 This tresour must ycaried be by night 
 As wisely and as sleighly as it might. 
 Wherfore I rede, that cut among us alle 
 We drawe, and let see wher the cut wol falle : 
 And he that hath the cut, with herte blith, 
 Shal rennen to the toun, and that ful swith, 
 And bring us bred and win ful prively : 
 And two of us shal kepen subtilly 
 This tresour wel : and if he wol not tarien. 
 Whan it is night, we wol this tresour carien 
 By on assent, wher as us thinketh best. 
 
 That on of hem the cut brought in his fest, 
 And bad hem drawe and loke wher it wold falle. 
 And it fell on the yongest of hem alle : 
 And forth toward the toun he went anon. 
 And al so sone that he was agon. 
 That on of hem spake thus unto that other; 
 Thou wotest wel thou art my sworen brother, 
 Thy profite wol I tell thee right anon. 
 Thou wost wel that our felaw is agon, 
 And here is gold, and that ful gret plentee, 
 That shal departed ben among us three. 
 But natheles, if I can shape it so, 
 That it departed were among us two, 
 
 f2
 
 58 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 Had I not don a frendes turn to thee? 
 
 That other answerd, T n'ot how that may be: 
 He wote wel that the gold is with us tweye. 
 What shuhi we don ? what shuln we to him seye ? 
 
 Shal it be conseil? sayd the firste shrewe; 
 And I shal tellen thee in wordes fewe 
 What we shul don, and bring it wel aboute. 
 
 I grante, quod that other, out of doute. 
 That by my trouth I wol thee not bewreie. 
 
 Now, quod the first,thou wost wel we ben tweie, 
 And tweie of us shal strenger be than on. 
 Loke, whan that he is set, thou right anon 
 Arise, as though thou woldest with him play; 
 And 1 shal rive him thurgh the sides tway. 
 While that thou stroglest with him as in game, 
 And with thy dagger loke thou do the same; 
 And than shal all this gold departed be. 
 My dere frend, betwixen thee and me: 
 Than moun we bothe our lustes al fulfille. 
 And play at dis right at our owen wille. 
 And thus accorded ben thise shrewes tweye, 
 To slen the thridde, as ye han herd me seye. 
 
 This yongest, which that wente to the toun, 
 Ful oft in herte he rolleth up and doun 
 The beautee of thise floreins newe and bright. 
 O Lord, quod he, if so were that I might 
 Have all this tresour to myself alone, 
 Ther n'is no man that liveth under the trone 
 Of Crod, that shulde live so mery as I. 
 And at the last the fend our enemy 
 Putte in his thought, that he shuld poison beye, 
 With Avhich he mighte slen his felaws tweye. 
 For why, the fend fond him in swiche living. 
 That he had leve to sorwe him to bring.
 
 THE PARDONERES TALE. 50 
 
 For this was outrely his ful entente 
 
 To slen hem both, and never to repente. 
 
 And forth he goth, no longer wold he tary. 
 Into the town unto a Potecary, 
 And praied him that he him wolde sell 
 Som poison, that he might his ratouns quell. 
 And eke ther was a polkut in his hawe, 
 That, as he sayd, his capons had yslawe: 
 And fayn he wolde him wreken, if he might. 
 Of vermine, that destroied hem by night. 
 
 The Potecary answerd, Thou shalt have 
 A thing, as wisly God my soule save. 
 In all this world ther n'is no creature. 
 That ete or dronke hath of this confecture, 
 Not but the mountance of a corne of whete, 
 That he ne shal iiis lif anon forlete; 
 Ye, sterve he shal, and that in lesse while. 
 Than thou wolt goa a pas not but a mile : 
 This poison is so strong and violent. 
 
 This cursed man hath in his hond yhent 
 This poison in a box, and swithe he ran 
 Into the nexte strete unto a man. 
 And borwed of him large botelles three; 
 And in the two the poison poured he; 
 The thridde he kepte clene for his drinke. 
 For all the night he shope him for to swinke 
 In carying of the gold out of that place. 
 
 And whan this riotour, with sory grace. 
 Hath filled with win his grete botelles three, 
 To his felawes agen repaireth he. 
 
 What nedeth it therof to sermon more ? 
 For right as they had cast his deth before, 
 Hight so they han him slain, and that anon. 
 And whan that this was don, thus spake that on ;
 
 60 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 Now let us sit and drinke, and make us mery, 
 And afterward we wiln his body bery. 
 And with that word it happed him par cas, 
 To take the botelle, ther the poison was, ' 
 And dronke, and yave his felaw drinke also, 
 For which anon they storven bothe two. 
 
 But certes I suppose that Avicenne 
 Wrote never in no cannon, ne in no fenne, 
 Mo wonder signes of empoisoning'. 
 Than had thise wretches two or hir ending. 
 Thus ended ben thise homicides two. 
 And eke the false empoisoner also. 
 
 O cursednesse of alle cursednesse ! 
 O traitours homicide ! O wickednesse ! 
 
 glotonie, luxurie, and hasardrie ! 
 Thou blasphemour of Crist with vilanie. 
 And othes grete, of usage and of pride ! 
 Alas! mankinde, how may it betide. 
 
 That to thy Creatour, which that thee wrought, 
 
 And with his precious herte-blood thee bought. 
 
 Thou art so false and so unkind, alas ! 
 
 Now, good men, God foryeve you your trespas, 
 
 And ware you fro the sinne of avarice. 
 
 Min holy pardon may you all warice, 
 ' So that ye ofFre nobles or starlinges, 
 
 Or elles silver broches, spones, ringes. 
 
 Boweth your hed under this holy Bulle. 
 
 Cometh up, ye wives, and offreth of your wolle ; 
 ^ Your names I entre here in my roll anon; 
 
 Into the blisse of heven shul ye gon : 
 
 1 you assoile by min high powere. 
 
 You that wiln ofFre, as clene and eke as clere 
 As ye were borne. Lo, sires, thus 1 preche; 
 And Jesu Crist, that is our soules leche,
 
 THE PARDONERES TALE. CI 
 
 So graunte you his pardon to receive; 
 For that is best, I wol you not deceive. 
 
 But, sires, o word forgate I in my tale; 
 I have relikes and pardon in my male, 
 As faire as any man in Englelond, 
 Which were me yeven by the Popes hond. 
 If any of you wol of devotion 
 OfFren, and ban min absolution, 
 Cometh forth anon, and kneleth here adoun. 
 And mekely receiveth my pardoun. 
 Or elles taketh pardon, as ye wende, 
 Al newe and freshe at every tounes ende. 
 So that ye otlVen alway newe and newe. 
 Nobles or pens, which that ben good and trewe. 
 It is an honour to everich that is here. 
 That ye moun have a suffisant pardonere 
 To assoilen you in contree as ye ride. 
 For aventures, which that moun betide. 
 Paraventure ther may falle on, or two, 
 Doun of his hors, and breke his neck atwo. 
 Loke, which a seurtee is it to yeu alle, 
 That I am in your felawship yfalle, 
 That may assoile you bothe more and lasse. 
 Whan that the soule shal fro the body passe. 
 I rede that our hoste shal beginne, 
 For he is most envoluped in sinne. 
 Come forth, sire hoste, and offre first anon. 
 And thou shalt kisse the relikes everich on, 
 Ye for a grote; unbokel anon thy purse. 
 
 Nay nay, quod he, than have I Cristes curse. 
 Let be, quod he, it shal not be, so the ich. 
 Thou woldest make me kisse thin olde brech, 
 And swere it were a relike of a seint, 
 Though it were with thy foundement depeint.
 
 62 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 But by the crois, which that Seint Heleine fond, 
 I wolde I had thin coilons in min hond, 
 Instede of relikes, or of seintuarie. 
 Let cut hem of, I wol thee help hem carie; 
 They shul be shrined in an hogges tord. 
 
 This Pardoner answered not a word; 
 So wroth he was, no word ne wolde he say. 
 
 Now, quod our hoste, I wol no lenger play 
 With thee, ne with non other angry man. 
 
 But right anon the worthy knight began, 
 (Whan that he saw that all the peple lough) 
 No more of this, for it is right ynough. 
 Sire Pardoner, be mery and glad of chere; 
 And ye, sire hoste, that ben to me so dere, 
 I pray you that ye kisse the Pardoner; 
 And, Pardoner, I pray thee draw thee ner. 
 And as we diden, let us laugh and play. 
 Anon they kissed, and riden forth hir way. 
 
 THE SHIPMAXXES PROLOGUE. 
 
 Our hoste upon his stirrops stode anon, 
 
 And saide; Good men, herkeneth everich on, 
 
 This was a thrifty tale for the nones. 
 
 Sire parish preest, quod he, for Goddes bones, 
 
 Tell us a tale, as was thy forward yore: 
 
 I see wel that ye lerned men in lore 
 
 Can mochel good, by Goddes dignitee. 
 
 The Person him answerd, Benedicite ! 
 What eileth the man, so sinfully to swere? 
 
 Our hoste answerd, O Jankin, be ye there? 
 Now, good men, quod our hoste, herkneth to me. 
 I smell a loller in the wind, quod he.
 
 THE SHIPMANNES TALE. G3 
 
 Abideth for Goddes digne passion, 
 
 For we shul ban a predication : 
 
 This loller bere wol precben us somwhat. 
 
 Nay by my fatbers soule, tbat sbal be nat, 
 Sayde tbe Sbipman, bere sbal be nat precbe.. 
 He sbal no gospel glosen bere ne teche. 
 We leven all in tbe gret God, quod he. 
 He wolde sowen som difficultee, 
 Or springen cockle in our clene corne. 
 And therfore, hoste, I warne thee beforne, 
 My joly body sbal a tale telle. 
 And I sbal clinken you so mery a belle. 
 That I sbal waken all this compagnie : 
 But it sbal not ben of philosophic, 
 Ne of physike, ne termes queinte of lawe; 
 Ther is but litel Latin in my mawe. 
 
 THE SHIPMANNES TALE. 
 
 A March ANT whilom dwelled at Seint Denise, 
 That riche was, for which men held him wise. 
 A wif be bad of excellent beautee. 
 And compaignable, and revelous was she. 
 Which is a thing that causeth more dispence. 
 Than worth is all the chere and reverence, 
 That men hem don at festes and at dances. 
 Swiche salutations and contenances 
 Passen, as doth a shadwe upon the wall: 
 But wo is him tbat payen mote for all. 
 Tbe sely husbond algate he mote pay. 
 He mote us clothe and he mote us array 
 All for bis owen worship richely : 
 In which array we dancen jolily.
 
 64 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 And if that he may not paraventure, 
 Or elles lust not swiche dispence endure, 
 But thmketh it is wasted and ylost, 
 Than mote another payen for our cost, 
 Or lene us gold, and that is perilous. 
 
 This noble Marchant held a worthy hous, 
 For which he had all day so gret repaire 
 For his largesse, and for his wif was faire, 
 That wonder is: but herkeneth to my tale. 
 
 Amonges all thise gestes gret and smale, 
 Ther was a Monk, a faire man and a bold, 
 I trow a thritty winter he was old. 
 That ever in on was drawing to that place. 
 This yonge Monk, that was so faire of face, 
 Acquainted was so with this goode man, 
 Sithen that hir firste knowlege began. 
 That in his hous as farailier was he. 
 As it possible is any frend to be. 
 And for as mochel as this goode man 
 And eke this ISIonk, of which that I began, 
 Were bothe two yborne in o village, 
 The Monk him claimeth, as for cosinage. 
 And he again him sayd not ones nay. 
 But was as glad therof, as foule of day; 
 For to his herte it was a gret plesance. 
 
 Thus ben they knit with eterne alliance. 
 And eche of hem gan other for to ensure 
 Of brotherhed, while that hire lif may dure. 
 
 Free was Dan John, and namely of dispence 
 As in that hous, and ful of diligence 
 To don plesance, and also gret costage: 
 He not forgate to yeve the leste page 
 In all that hous; but, after hir degree. 
 He yave the lord, and sithen his meinee,
 
 THE SHIPMANNES TALE. Go 
 
 Whan that he came, som maiier honest thing; 
 For which they were as glad of his coming 
 As foule is fayn, whan that the sonne up riseth. 
 No more of this as now, for it sufficeth. 
 
 But so befell, this Marchant on a day 
 Shope him to maken redy his array 
 Toward the toun of Brugges for to fare, 
 To by en ther a portion of ware : 
 For which he hath to Paris sent anon 
 A messager, and praied hath Dan John 
 That he shuld come to Seint Denis, and pleie 
 With him, and with his wif, a day or tweie. 
 Or he to Brugges went, in alle wise. 
 
 This noble Monk, of which T you devise. 
 Hath of his Abbot, as him list, licence, 
 (Because he was a man of high prudence. 
 And eke an officer out for to ride. 
 To seen hir granges, and hir bernes wide) 
 And unto Seint Denis he cometh anon. 
 
 Who was so welcome as my lord Dan John, 
 Our dere cousin, ful of curtesie? 
 With him he brought a jubbe of Malvesie, 
 And eke another ful of fine Vernage, 
 And volatile, as ay was his usage: 
 And thus I let hem ete, and drinke, and pleye, 
 This marchant and this monk, a day or tweye. 
 
 The thridde day this marchant up ariseth. 
 And on his nedes sadly him aviseth : 
 And up into his countour hous goth he. 
 To reken with himselveii, wel may be. 
 Of thilke yere, hoAV that it with him stood. 
 And how that he dispended had his good. 
 And if that he encresed were or non. 
 His bookes and his bagges many on 
 
 VOL. II. G
 
 66 CANTERBURY TALES, 
 
 He layth befoni him on his counting bord. 
 Ful riche was his tresour and his hord; 
 For which ful fast his countour dore he shet; 
 And eke he n'olde no man shukl hira let 
 Of his accountes, for the mene time: 
 And thus he sit, til it was passed prime, 
 
 Dan John was risen in the morwe also. 
 And in the gardin walketh to and fro, 
 And hath his thinges sayd ful curteisly. 
 This goode wif came walking prively 
 Into the gardin, ther he walketh soft. 
 And him salueth, as she hath don oft: 
 A maiden child came in hire compagnie. 
 Which as hire lust she may governe and gie, 
 For yet under the yerde was the maide. 
 
 O dere cosin min Dan John, she saide. 
 What aileth you so rathe for to arise? 
 
 Nece, quod he, it ought ynough suffise 
 Five houres for to slepe upon a night: 
 But it were for an olde appalled wight. 
 As ben thise wedded men, that lie and dare, 
 As in a fourme sitteth a wery hare. 
 Were al forstraught with houndes gret and smale. 
 But, dere nece, why be ye so pale? 
 I trowe certes, that our goode man 
 Hath you laboured, sith this night began, 
 That you were nede to resten hastily. 
 And with that word he lough ful merily, 
 And of his owen thought he wexe all red. 
 
 This faire wif gan for to shake hire hed. 
 And saied thus; Ye, God wote all, quod she. 
 ISTay, cosin min, it stant not so with me. 
 For by that God, that yave me soule and lif. 
 In all the reame of Fraunce is ther no wif.
 
 THE SHIPMANNES TALE. 07 
 
 That lasse lust hath to that sory play; 
 
 For I may singe alas and wala vva 
 
 That I was borne, but to no wight (quod she) 
 
 Dare I not tell how that it stant with me. 
 
 Wherfore I thinke out of this lond to wende, 
 
 Or elles of myself to make an ende. 
 
 So ful am I of drede and eke of care. 
 
 This monk began upon this wif to stare, 
 And sayd, Alas ! my nece, God forbede. 
 That ye for any sorwe, or any drede. 
 Fordo yourself: but telleth me your grefe, 
 Paraventure I may in your mischefe 
 Conseile or helpe : and therfore telleth me 
 All your annoy, for it shal ben secree. 
 For on my Portos here I make an oth. 
 That never in my lif, for lefe ne loth, 
 Ne shal I of no conseil you bewray. 
 
 The same agen to you, quod she, I say. 
 By God and by this Portos I you swere. 
 Though men me wolden all in peces tere, 
 Ne shal I never, for to gon to helle, 
 Bewrey o word of thing that ye me tell, 
 JSTought for no cosinage, ne alliance, 
 But veraily for love and affiance. 
 Thus ben they sworne, and hereupon they kiste, 
 And eche of hem told other what hem liste. 
 
 Cosin, quod she, if that I had a space, 
 As I have non, and namely in this place, 
 Than wold I tell a legend of my lif, 
 What I have sufFred sith I was a wif 
 With min husbond, al be he your cosin. 
 
 Nay, quod this monk, by God and Seint Martin, 
 He n'is no more cosin unto me. 
 Than is the leef that hangeth on the tree:
 
 68 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 I clepe him so by Seint Denis of France 
 To han the more cause of acquaintance 
 Of you, which I have loved specially 
 Aboven alle women sikerly, 
 This swere I you on my professioun : 
 Telleth your grefe, lest that he come adoun. 
 And hasteth you, and goth away anon. 
 
 My dere love, quod she, o ray Dan John, 
 Ful lefe were me this conseil for to hide. 
 But out it mote, I may no lenger abide. 
 
 Myn husbond is to me the werste man, 
 That ever was sith that the world began : 
 But sith I am a wif, it sit not me 
 To tellen no wight of our privetee. 
 Neither in bed, ne in non other place; 
 God shilde I shulde it tellen for his grace; 
 A wif ne shal not sayn of hire husbond 
 But all honour, as I can understond; 
 Save unto you thus raoch I tellen shal: 
 As helps me God, he is nought worth at all, 
 In no degree, the value of a flie. 
 But yet me greveth most his nigardie: 
 And wel ye wot, that women naturally 
 Desiren thinges sixe, as wel as I. 
 They wolden that hir husbondes shulden be 
 Hardy, and wise, and riche, and therto free, 
 And buxome to his wif, and fresh a-bedde. 
 But by that ilke Lord that for us bledde, 
 For his honour myselven for to array, 
 A sonday next T muste nedes pay 
 An hundred franks, or elles am I lorne. 
 Yet were me lever that I were unborne. 
 Than me were don a sclandre or vilanie. 
 And if min husbond eke might it espie,
 
 THE SHIPMANNES TALE. G9 
 
 I n'ere but lost; and therfore I you prey 
 Lene me this summe, or elles mote 1 dey. 
 Dan John, 1 say, lene me this hundred tVankes; 
 Parde I wol not faille you my thankes. 
 If that you list to do that I you pray. 
 For at a certain day I wol you pay, 
 And do to you what plesance and service 
 That I may don, right as you list devise : 
 And but I do, God take on me vengeance, 
 As foule as ever had Genelon of France. 
 
 This gentil monk answerd in this manere; 
 Now trewely, min owen lady dere, 
 I have (quod he) on you so grete a routhe, 
 That I you swere, and plighte you my trouthe. 
 That whan your husbond is to Flandres fare, 
 I wol deliver you out of this care, 
 For I wol bringen you an hundred frankes. 
 And with that word he caught hire by the flankes, 
 And hire embraced hard, and kiste hire oft. 
 Goth now your way, quod he, al stille and soft, 
 And let us dine as sone as that ye may, 
 For by my kalender it is prime of day: 
 Goth now, and beth as trewe as I shal be. 
 Now elles God forbede, sire, quod she; 
 And forth she goth, as joly as a pie. 
 And bad the cokes that they shuld hem hie. 
 So that men mighten dine, and that anon. 
 Up to hire husbond is this wif ygon. 
 And knocketh at his countour boldely. 
 Qui est Id,? quod he. Peter, it am I, 
 Quod she. What, sire, how longe wol ye fast? 
 How longe time wol ye reken and cast 
 ^ Your summes, and your bookes, and your thinges? 
 The devil have part of ail swiche rekeninges. 
 
 g2
 
 70 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 Ye han ynough parde of Goddes sonde. 
 Come doun to day, and let your bagges stonde, 
 Ne be ye not ashamed, that Dan John 
 Shal fasting all this day elenge gon? 
 What? let us here a masse, and go we dine. 
 
 Wif, quod this man, litel canst thou divine 
 The curious besinesse that we have : 
 For of us chapmen, all so God me save. 
 And by that lord that cleped is Seint Ive, 
 Scarsly amonges twenty ten shul thrive 
 Continuelly, lasting unto oure age. 
 We moun wel maken chere and good visage, 
 And driven forth the world as it may be. 
 And kepen oure estat in privitee. 
 Til we be ded, or elles that we play 
 A pilgrimage, or gon out of the way. 
 And therfore have I gret necessitee 
 Upon this queinte world to avisen me. 
 For evermore mote we stond in drede 
 Of hap and fortune in our chapmanhede. 
 
 To Flandres wol I go to-morvve at day. 
 And come agein as sone as ever I may: 
 For which, my dere wif, I thee beseke 
 As be to every wight buxom and meke, 
 And for to kepe our good be curious, 
 And honestly governe wel our hous. 
 Thou hast ynough, in every maner wise. 
 That to a thrifty houshold may suffice. 
 Thee lacketh non array, ne no vitaille; 
 Of silver in thy purse shalt thou not faille. 
 And with that word his countour dore he shette. 
 And doun he goth ; no lenger wold he lette ; 
 And hastily a masse was ther saide, 
 And spedily the tables were ylaide,
 
 THE SHIPMANNES TALE. 71 
 
 And to the diner faste they hem spedde. 
 And richely this monk the chapman fedde. 
 
 And after diner Dan John sobrely 
 This chapman toke apart, and prively 
 He said him thus: Cosin, it stondeth so, 
 That, wel I see, to Brugges ye wol go, 
 God and Seint Austin spede you and gide. 
 I pray you, cosin, wisely that ye ride; 
 Governeth you also of your diete 
 Attemprely, and namely in this hete. 
 Betwix us two nedeth no strange fare; 
 Farewel, cosin, God shilde you fro care. 
 If any thing ther be by day or night. 
 If it lie in my power and my might. 
 That ye me wol command in any wise. 
 It shal be don, right as ye wol devise. 
 
 But o thing or ye go, if it may be, 
 I wolde prayen you for to lene me 
 An hundred frankes for a weke or tweye. 
 For certain bestes that I muste beye. 
 To storen with a place that is oures : 
 (God helpe me so, I wold that it were youres) 
 I shal not faille surely of my day. 
 Not for a thousand frankes, a mile way. 
 But let this thing be secree, I you preye; 
 For yet to-night thise bestes mote I beye. 
 And fare now wel, min owen cosin dere. 
 Grand mercy of your cost and of your chere. 
 
 This noble marchant gentilly anon 
 Answerd and said, O cosin min Dan John, 
 Now sikerly this is a smal requeste : 
 My gold is youres, whan that it you leste. 
 And not only my gold, but my chaftare: 
 Take what you lest, God shdde that ye spare.
 
 72 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 But o thing is, ye know it wel ynough 
 Of chapmen, that hir money is hir plough. 
 We moun creancen while we han a name, 
 But goodies for to ben it is no game. 
 Pay it agen, whan it lith in your ese; 
 After my might ful fayn wold I you plese. 
 Thise hundred frankes fet he forth anon. 
 And prively he toke hem to Dan John : 
 No wight in al this world wist of this lone. 
 Saving this marchant, and Dan John alone. 
 Theydrinke, and speke, and rome a while and 
 Til that Dan John rideth to his abbeye. [pleye, 
 The morwe came, andforth this marchant rideth 
 To Flandres ward, his prentis wel him gideth, 
 Til he came in to Brugges merily. 
 Now goth this marchant faste and besily 
 About his nede, and bieth, and creanceth; 
 He neither playeth at the dis, ne danceth; 
 But as a marchant, shortly for to tell, 
 He ledeth his lif, and ther I let him dwell. 
 The sonday next the marchant was agon. 
 To Seint Denis yeomen is Dan John, 
 With croune and berde all fresh and newe yshave. 
 In all the hous ther n'as so litel a knave, 
 Ne no wight elles, that he n'as ful fain. 
 For that my lord Dan John was come again. 
 And shortly to the point right for to gon, 
 This faire wif accordeth with Dan John, 
 That for thise hundred frankes he shuld all night 
 Haven hire in his amies bolt-upright: 
 And this accord parformed was in dede. 
 In mirth all night a besy lif they lede 
 Til it was day, that Dan John yede his way, 
 And bad the meinie farewel, have good day.
 
 THE SHIPMANNES TALE. 73 
 
 For non of hem, ne no wight in the toun. 
 Hath of Dan John right non suspectioun; 
 And forth he rideth home to his abbey, 
 Or wher him hste, no more of him I sey. 
 
 This marchant, whan that ended was the faire, 
 To Seint Denis he gan for to repaire, 
 And with his wif he maketh feste and chere. 
 And telleth hire that chaffare is so dere. 
 That nedes must he make a chevisance. 
 For he was bonde in a recognisance. 
 To payen twenty thousand shekles anon. 
 For which this marchant is to Paris gon 
 To borwe of certain frendes that he hadde 
 A certain frankes, and som with him he ladde. 
 And whan that he was come into the toun, 
 For gret chiertee and gret aft'ectioun 
 Unto Dan John he goth him first to pleye ; 
 IVot for to axe or borwe of him moneye. 
 But for to wete and seen of his welfare. 
 And for to tellen him of his chaffare. 
 As frendes don, whan they ben mette in fere. 
 
 Dan John him maketh feste and mery chere; 
 And he him tolde agen ful specially. 
 How he had wel ybought and graciously 
 (Thanked be God) all hole his marchandise: 
 Save that he must in alle manere wise 
 Maken a chevisance, as for his beste: 
 And than he shulde ben in joye and reste. 
 Dan John answered, Certes I am fain. 
 That ye in hele be comen home again : 
 And if that I were riche, as have I blisse, 
 Of twenty thousand sheldes shuld ye not misse. 
 For ye so kindely this other day 
 Lente me gold, and as I can and may
 
 74 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 I thanke you, by God and by Seint Jame. 
 But natheles I toke imto our Dame, 
 Your vvif at home, the same gold again 
 Upon your benche, she wote it wel certain, 
 By certain tokenes that I can iiire tell. 
 IVow by your leve, I may no lenger dwell; 
 Our abbot wol out of this toun anon, 
 And in his compagnie I muste gon. 
 Grete wel our dame, min owen nece swete. 
 And farewel, dere cosin, til we mete. 
 
 This raarchant, which that was ful ware and 
 Creanced hath, and paide eke in Paris [wise. 
 To certain Lumbardes redy in hir bond 
 The summe of gold, and gate of hem his bond, 
 And home he goth, mery as a popingay. 
 For wel he knew he stood in swiche array, 
 That nedes rauste he winne in that viage 
 A thousand frankes, above all his costage. 
 His wif ful redy mette him at the gate. 
 As she was wont of old usage algate: 
 And all that night in mirthe they ben sette, 
 For he was riche, and clerely out of dette. 
 Whan it was day, this marchant gan enbrace 
 His wif all newe, and kiste hire in hire face. 
 And up he goth, and maketh it ful tough. 
 No more, quod she, by God ye have ynough: 
 And wantonly agen with him she plaide. 
 Til at the last this marchant to her saide. 
 ' By God, quod he, I am a litel wrothe 
 With you, my wif, although it be me lothe: 
 And wote ye why? by God, as that T gesse, 
 That ye han made a manere strangenesse 
 Betwixen me and my cosin Dan John. 
 Ye shuld have warned me, or I had gon.
 
 THE SKIPMANNES TALE. 75 
 
 That he you had an hundred frankes paide 
 By redy token : and held him evil apaide, 
 For that I to him spake of chevisance : 
 (Me semed so as by his contenance) 
 But natheles by God our heven king, 
 I thoughte not to axe of him no thing. 
 I pray thee, wif, ne do thou no more so. 
 Tell me alway, er that I fro thee go, 
 If any dettour hath in min absence 
 Ypaide thee, lest thurgh thy negligence 
 I might him axe a thing that he hath paide. 
 
 This wif was not aferde ne afFraide, 
 But boldely she saide, and that anon; 
 Mary I defie that false monk Dan John, 
 I kepe not of his tokenes never a del : 
 He toke me certain gold, 1 wote it wel. 
 What? evil thedome on his monkes snoute! 
 For, God it wote, I wend withouten doute. 
 That he had yeve it me, because of you. 
 To don therwith min honour and my prow, 
 For cosinage, and eke for belle chere. 
 That he hath had ful often times here. 
 But sith I see I stonde in swiche disjoint, 
 I wol answere you shortly to the point. 
 
 Ye have rao slakke dettours than am I : 
 For I wol pay you wel and redily 
 Fro day to day, and if so be I faille, 
 I am your wif, score it upon my taile. 
 And I shal pay as sone as ever I may. 
 For by my trouth, I have on min array, 
 And not in waste, bestowed it every del. 
 And for t have bestowed it so wel 
 For your honour, for Goddes sake I say. 
 As beth not wrothe, but let us laugh and play.
 
 76 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 Ye shal my joly body han to wedde : 
 By God 1 n'ill not pay you but a-bedde: 
 Foryeve it me, min ovven spouse dere; 
 Turne hitherward and maketh better chere. 
 This marchant saw ther was no remedy: 
 And for to chide, it n'ere but a foly, 
 Sith that the thing may not amended be. 
 Now, wif, he said, and I foryeve it thee; 
 But by thy lif ne be no more so large ; 
 Kepe bet my good, this yeve I thee in charge. 
 Thus endeth now my tale, and God us sende 
 Taling ynough, unto our lives ende. 
 
 THE PRIORESSES PROLOGUE. 
 
 Wel said by corpus Domini, quod our Hoste, 
 Now longe mote thou sailen by the coste. 
 Thou gentil Maister, gentil Marinere. 
 God give the monke a thousand last quad yere. 
 A ha, felawes, beth ware of swiche a jape. 
 The monke put in the mannes hode an ape, 
 And in his wifes eke, by Seint Austin. 
 Draweth no monkes more into your in. 
 
 But now passe over, and let us seke aboute, 
 "VVho shal now tellen first of all this route 
 Another tale : and with that word he said, 
 As curteisly as it had ben a maid, 
 
 My lady Prioresse, by your leve. 
 So that I wist 1 shuld you not agreve, 
 I wolde demen, that ye tellen shold 
 A tale next, if so were <hat ye wold. 
 Now wol ye vouchesauf, my lady dere? 
 
 Gladly, quod she, and saide as ye shul here.
 
 77 
 
 THE PRIORESSES TALE. 
 
 O Lord our lord, thy name how merveillous 
 Is in this large world ysprad ! (quod she) 
 For not al only thy laude precious 
 Parfourmed is by men of dignitee, 
 Bot by the mouth of children thy bountee 
 Parfourmed is, for on the brest souking 
 Somtime shewen they thin herying. 
 
 Wherfore in laude, as I can best and may, 
 Of thee and of the white lily flom-, 
 Which that thee bare, and is a maide alway. 
 To tell a storie I wol do my labour; 
 Not that I may encresen hire honour, 
 For she hireselven is honour and rote 
 Of bountee, next hire sone, and soules bote. 
 
 O mother maide, o maide and mother fre, 
 O bushe unbrent, brenning in Moyses sight, 
 That ravishedest doun fro the deitee, [alight: 
 Thurgh thin humblesse, the gost that in thee 
 Of whos vertue, whan he thin herte light. 
 Conceived was the fathers sapience : 
 Helpe me to tell it in thy reverence. 
 
 Lady, thy bountee, thy magniticence. 
 Thy vertue and thy gret humilitee, 
 Ther may no tonge expresse in no science : 
 For somtime, lady, or men pray to thee, 
 Thou gost beforn of thy benignitee. 
 And getest us the light, of thy prayere. 
 To giden us unto thy sone so dere. 
 
 VOL. II. H
 
 78 CANTERBURY TALliS, 
 
 My conning is so weke, o blisful queue, 
 For to declare thy grete worthinesse, 
 That I ne may the weights not sustene; 
 But as a child of twelf moneth old or lesse. 
 That can unnethes any word expresse. 
 Right so fare I, and therfore I you pray, 
 Gideth my song, that I shal of you say. 
 
 Ther was in Asie, in a gret citee, 
 Amonges Cristen folk a Jewerie, 
 Sustened by a lord of that contree. 
 For foule usure, and lucre of vilanie. 
 Hateful to Crist, and to his compagnie : 
 And thurgh the strete men mighten ride and 
 
 wende, 
 For it was free, and open at eyther ende. 
 
 A litel scole of Cristen folk ther stood 
 Doun at the farther ende, in which ther were 
 Children an hepe comen of Cristen blood. 
 That lerned in that scole yere by yere, 
 Swiche manere doctrine as men used there: 
 This is to say, to singen and to rede. 
 As smale children don in hir childhede. 
 
 Among thise children was a widewes sone, 
 A litel clergion, sevene yere of age. 
 That day by day to scole was his wone. 
 And eke also, wheras he sey the image 
 Of Cristas moder, had he in usage. 
 As him was taught, to knele adoun, and say 
 Ave Marie, as he goth by the way. 
 
 Thus hath this widewe hire litel sone ytaught 
 Our blisful Lady, Cristes moder dere. 
 To worship ay, and he forgate it naught:
 
 THE PRIORESSES TALE. 79 
 
 For sely childe wol alway sone lere. 
 But ay, whau T remembre on this matere, 
 Seint Nicholas stant ever in my presence, 
 For he so yong to Crist did reverence. 
 
 This litel childe his litel book lerning, 
 As he sate in the scole at his primere. 
 He Alma redemptoris herde sing. 
 As children lered hir antiphonere : 
 And as he dorst, he drow him nere and nere. 
 And herkened ay the wordes and the note, 
 Til he the firste vers coude al by rote. 
 
 Nought wist he what this Latin was to say. 
 For he so yonge and tendre was of age; 
 But on a day his felaw gan he pray 
 To expounden him this song in his langage, 
 Or telle him why this song was in usage : 
 This prayde he him to construe and declare, 
 Ful often time upon his knees bare. 
 
 His felaw, which that elder was than he, 
 Answerd him thus : This song, I have herd say, 
 W as maked of our blisful Lady fre. 
 Hire to salue, and eke hire for to prey 
 To ben our help, and socour whan we dey. 
 1 can no more expound in this matere : 
 I lerne song, I can but smal grammere. 
 
 And is this song maked in reverence 
 Of Cristes moder? said this innocent; 
 Now certes I wol don my diligence 
 To conne it all, or Cristemasse be went. 
 Though that I for my primer shal be shent, 
 And shal be beten thries in an houre, 
 I wol it conne, our Ladie for to honoure.
 
 80 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 His felaw taught hira homeward prively 
 Fro day to day, til he coude it by rote, 
 And than he song it wel and boldely 
 Tro word to word according with the note : 
 Twies a day it passed thurgh his throte. 
 To scoleward and homeward whan he wente : 
 On Cristes moder set was his entente. 
 
 As I have said, thurghout the Jewerie 
 This Utel child as he came to and fro, 
 Ful merily than wold he sing and crie, 
 O Alma redemptoris, ever mo: 
 The swetenesse hath his herte persed so 
 Of Cristes moder, that to hire to pray 
 He cannot stint of singing by the way. 
 
 Our lirste fo, the serpent Sathanas, 
 That hath in Jewes herte his waspes nest, 
 Up swale and said, O Ebraike peple, alas ! 
 Is this to you a thing that is honest, 
 That swiche a boy shal walken as him leste 
 In your despit, and sing of swiche sentence, 
 Which is again our lawes reverence? 
 
 From thennesforth the Jewes han conspired 
 This innocent out of this world to chace: 
 An homicide therto han they hired. 
 That in an aleye had a privee place, 
 And as the child gan forthby for to pace, 
 This cursed Jew him hent, and held him fast. 
 And cut his throte, and in a pit him cast. 
 
 I say that in a wardrope they him threwe, 
 Wher as thise Jewes purgen hir entraille. 
 O cursed folk, of Herodes alle newe,
 
 THE PRIORESSES TALE. 81 
 
 What may your evil entente you availle ? 
 Mordre wol out, certein it wol not faille. 
 And namely ther the honour of God shal sprede : 
 The blood out crieth on your cursed dede. 
 
 O martyr souded in virginitee, 
 Now maist thou singe, and folwen ever in on 
 The vehite lamb celestial, quod she. 
 Of which the gret Evangelist Seint John 
 In Pathmos wrote, which sayth that they that gon 
 Beforn this lamb, and singe a song al newe, 
 That never fleshly woman they ne knewe. 
 
 This poure widewe awaiteth al that night 
 After hire litel childe, and he came nought: 
 For which as sone as it was dayes light. 
 With face pale of drede and besy thought, 
 She hath at scole and elleswher him sought. 
 Til finally she gan so fer aspie, 
 That he last seen was in the Jewerie. 
 
 With modres pitee in hire brest enclosed 
 She goth, as she were half out of hire minde. 
 To every place, wher she hath supposed 
 By likelihed hire litel child to finde : 
 And ever on Cristes moder meke and kinde 
 She cried, and at the laste thus she wrought. 
 Among the cursed Jewes she him sought. 
 
 She freyneth, and she praieth pitously 
 To every Jew that dwelled in thilke place. 
 To telle hire, if hire child went ought forthby: 
 They sayden, Nay; but Jesu of his grace 
 Yave in hire thought, within a litel space. 
 That in that place after hire sone she cride, 
 Ther he was casten in a pit beside. 
 
 H 2
 
 82 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 O grcte God, that parformest thy laude 
 By mouth of innocentes, lo here thy might! 
 This gemme of chastitee, this emeraude. 
 And eke of martirdome the rubie bright, 
 Ther he with throte ycorveii.lay upright, 
 He Alma redemptoris gan to singe 
 So loude, that all the place gan to ringe. 
 
 The Cristen folk, that thurgh the strete wente. 
 In comen, for to wondre upon this thing: 
 And hastifly they for the provost sente. 
 He came anon withouten tarying. 
 And herieth Crist, that is of heven king, 
 And eke his moder, honour of mankind, 
 And after that the Jewes let he binde. 
 
 This child with pitous lamentation 
 Was taken up, singing his song alway: 
 And with honour and gret procession, 
 They carien him unto the next abbey. 
 His moder swouning by the here lay ; 
 Unnethes might the peple that was there 
 This newe Rachel bringen fro his here. 
 
 With turment, and with shameful deth eche on 
 This provost doth thise Jewes for to sterve. 
 That of this morder wiste, and that anon; 
 He n'oltle no swiche cursednesse observe: 
 Evil shal he have, that evil wol deserve. 
 Therfore with wilde hors he did hem drawe. 
 And after that he heng hem by the lawe. 
 
 Upon his here ay lith this innocent 
 Beforn the auter while the masse last : 
 And after that, the abbot with his covent 
 Han spedde hem for to berie liim fui fast:
 
 THE PRIORESSES TALE. 83 
 
 And whan they holy water on him cast, 
 
 Yet §pake this child, whan spreint was the holy 
 
 And sang, o Alma redemptoris mater, [water. 
 
 This abbot, which that was an holy man, 
 As monkes ben, or elles ought to be, 
 This yonge child to coujme he began. 
 And said; O dere child, I halse thee 
 In vertue of the holy Trinitee, 
 Tell me what is thy cause for to sing, 
 Sith that thy throte is cut to my seming. 
 
 My throte is cut unto my nekke-bon, 
 Saide this child, and as by way of kinde 
 I shuld have deyd, ye longe time agon: 
 But Jesu Crist, as ye in bookes hnde, 
 Wol that his glory last and be in minde, 
 And for the worship of his nioder dere, 
 Yet may 1 sing o Alma loude and clere. 
 
 This welle of mercie, Cristes nioder swete, 
 I loved alway, as after my conning: 
 And whan that I my lif shulde forlete, 
 To me she came, and bad me for to sing 
 This antem veraily in my dying, 
 As ye han herde, and, whan that I had songe, 
 Me thought she laid a grain upon my tonge. 
 
 Wherfore 1 sing, and sing I mote certain 
 In honour of that blisful maiden free. 
 Til fro my tonge of taken is the grain. 
 And after that thus saide she to me; 
 My litel child, than wol I fetchen thee. 
 Whan that the grain is fro thy tong ytake : 
 Be not agaste, I wol thee not forsake. 
 
 This holy monk, this abbot him mene I, 
 His tonge out caught, and toke away the grain;
 
 84 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 And he yave up the gost ful softely. 
 And whan this abbot had this wonder sein. 
 His salte teres trilled adoun as reyne: 
 And groff he fell al platte upon the ground. 
 And still he lay, as he had ben ybound. 
 
 The covent lay eke upon the pavement 
 Weping and herying Cristes moder dere. 
 And after that they risen, and forth ben went, 
 And toke away this martir fro his bere. 
 And in a tombe of marble stones clere 
 Enclosen they his litel body swete : 
 Ther he is now, God lene us for to mete. 
 
 O yonge Hew of Lincoln, slain also 
 With cursed Jewes, as it is notable. 
 For it n'is but a litel while ago. 
 Pray eke for us, we sinful folk unstable, 
 That of his mercy God so merciable 
 On us his grete mercie multiplie. 
 For reverence of his moder Marie. 
 
 PROLOGUE TO SIRE THOPAS. 
 
 Whan said was this miracle, every man 
 
 As sober was, that wonder was to see. 
 
 Til that our hoste to japen he began, 
 
 And than at erst he loked upon me, 
 
 And saide thus; What man art thou? quod he. 
 
 Thou lokest, as thou woldest finde an hare, 
 
 For ever upon the ground T see thee stare. 
 
 Approche nere, and loke up merily. 
 Now ware you, sires, and let this man have place. 
 He in the waste is shapen as wel as I:
 
 THE RIME OF SIRE TliOPAS. 85 
 
 This were a popet in an arrae to enbrace 
 For any woman, sraal and I'aire of face. 
 He semeth elvish by his contenance, 
 For unto no wight doth he dahance. 
 
 Say now somwhat, sin other folk han saide; 
 Tell us a tale of mirthe and that anon. 
 Hoste, quod I, ne be not evil apaide, 
 For other tale certes can I non, 
 But of a rime I lerned yore agon. 
 Ye, that is good, quod he, we shullen here 
 Som deiutee thing, me thinketh by thy chere. 
 
 THE RIME OF SIRE THOPAS. 
 
 LiSTENETH, lordinges, in good entent. 
 And I wol tell you verament 
 
 Of mirthe and of solas, 
 Al of a knight was faire and gent 
 In bataille and in turnament, 
 
 His name was sire Thopas. 
 
 Yborne he was in fer contree, 
 In Flandres, al beyonde the see, 
 
 At Popering in the place. 
 His father was a man ful free, 
 And lord he was of that contree. 
 
 As it was Goddes grace. 
 
 Sire Thopas was a doughty swain. 
 White was his face as paindemaine, 
 
 His lippes red as rose. 
 His rudde is like scarlet in grain, 
 And I you tell in good certain 
 
 He had a semely nose.
 
 86 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 His here, his berde, was like safroun, 
 That to his girdle raught adoun. 
 
 His shoon of cordewane; 
 Of Brugges were his hosen broun; 
 His robe was of ciclatoun. 
 
 That coste many a jane. 
 
 He coude hunt at the wilde dere. 
 And ride on hauking for the rivere 
 
 With grey goshauk on honde : 
 Therto he was a good archere, 
 Of wrastling was ther non his pere, 
 
 Ther ony ram shuld stonde. 
 
 Ful many a maide bright in hour 
 They mourned for him par amour. 
 
 Whan hem were bet to slepe; 
 But he was chaste and no lechour, 
 And swete as is the bramble flour. 
 
 That bereth the red hepe. 
 
 And so it fell upon a day, 
 Forsoth, as I you tellen may, 
 
 Sire Thopas wold out ride; 
 He worth upon his stede gray. 
 And in his bond a launcegay, 
 
 A long swerd by his side. 
 
 He priketh thurgh a faire forest, 
 Therin is many a wilde best, 
 
 Ye bothe buck and hare, 
 And as he priked North and Est, 
 I telle it you, him had almeste 
 
 Betidde a sory care. 
 
 Ther springen herbes grete and smale. 
 The licoris and the setewale.
 
 THE lllME Of SIRE TlIOl'AS. B7 
 
 And many a clone gilofre, 
 And notemuge to put in ale, 
 Whether it be moist or stale, 
 
 Or for to lain in cofre. 
 
 The briddes singen, it is no nay, 
 The sperhauk and the popingay, 
 
 That joye it was to here, 
 The throstel cok made eke his lay. 
 The wode dove upon the spray 
 
 He sang ful loude and clere. 
 
 Sire Thopas fell in love-longing 
 Al whan he herd the throstel sing, 
 
 And priked as he were wood; 
 His faire stede in his priking 
 So swatte, that men might him wring, 
 
 His sides were al blood. 
 
 Sire Thopas eke so wery was 
 For priking on the softe gras. 
 
 So tiers was his corage. 
 That doun he laid him in that place 
 To maken his stede som solace. 
 
 And yaf him good forage. 
 
 A, Seinte Mary, benedicite. 
 What aileth this love at me 
 
 To binde me so sore? 
 Me dremed all this night parde, 
 An elf-quene shal my lemman be, 
 
 And slepe under my gore. 
 
 An elf-quene wol I love ywis. 
 For in this world no woman is 
 
 Worthy to be my make || in toun, —
 
 88 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 Ail other women I forsake, 
 And to an elf-quene I me take 
 By dale and eke by doun. 
 
 Into his sadel he clombe anon, 
 And pviked over stile and stoa 
 
 An elf-quene for to espie, 
 Til he so long had ridden and gone, 
 That he fond in a privee wone 
 
 The contree of Faerie. 
 Wherin he soughte North and South, 
 And oft he spied with his mouth 
 
 In many a forest wilde. 
 For in that contree n'as ther non, 
 That to him dorst ride or gon, 
 
 Neither wif ne childe. 
 Til that ther came a gret geaunt, 
 . His name was Sire Oliphaunt, 
 A perilous man of dede, 
 He sayde, Child, by Termagaunt, 
 But if thou prike out of myn haunt. 
 
 Anon I slee thy stede || with mace — 
 Here is the Quene of Faerie, 
 With harpe, and pipe, and simphonie, 
 Dwelling in this place. 
 
 The child sayd, Al so mote I the, 
 To morwe v/ol I meten thee. 
 
 Whan I have rain armoure, 
 And yet' I hope par ma fay. 
 That thou shalt with this launcegay 
 
 Abien it ful soure; || thy mawe — 
 Shal I perce, if I may. 
 Or it be fully prime of the day, 
 
 For here thou shalt be slawe.
 
 THE RIME OF SIRE THOPAS. V.9 
 
 Sire Thopas drow abak ful fast; 
 This geaunt at him stones cast 
 
 Out of a fel statie sling: 
 But faire escaped child Thopas, 
 And all it was thurgh Goddes grace. 
 
 And thurgh his faire bering. 
 
 Yet listeneth, lordings, to my tale, 
 Merier than the nightingale, 
 
 For now I wol you roune, 
 How Sire Thopas with sides smale, 
 Priking over hill and dale, 
 
 Is comen agein to tonne. 
 
 His mery men commandeth he. 
 To maken him bothe game and gle. 
 
 For nedes must he fighte, 
 With a geaunt with hedes three. 
 For paramour and jolitee 
 
 Of on that shone ful brighte. 
 
 Do come, he sayd, my minestrales 
 And gestours for to tellen tales 
 
 Anon in min arming, 
 Of romaunces that ben reales, 
 Of popes and of cardinales. 
 
 And eke of love-longing. 
 
 They fet him first the swete win. 
 And mede eke in a maselin, 
 
 And real spicerie, 
 Of ginger-bred that was ful fin, 
 And licoris and eke comin. 
 
 With suger that is trie. 
 
 He didde next his white lere 
 Of cloth of lake lin and clere 
 
 VOL. II. I
 
 90 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 A breche and eke a sherte. 
 And next his shert an haketon. 
 And over that an habergeon, 
 
 For perchig" of his herte, 
 
 And over that a fin hauberk, 
 Was all y wrought of Jewes werk, 
 
 Ful strong it was of plate. 
 And over that his cote-armoure, 
 As white as is the lily floure, 
 
 In which he wold debate. 
 
 His sheld was all of gold so red, 
 And therin was a bores hed, 
 
 A charboucle beside; 
 And ther he swore on ale and bred 
 How that the geaunt shuld be ded, 
 
 Betide what so betide. 
 
 Hisjambeux were of cuirbouly, 
 His swerdes sheth of ivory, 
 
 His helme of latoun bright, 
 His sadel was of rewel bone, 
 His bridel as the sonne shone, 
 
 Or as the mone light. 
 
 His spere was of fin cypres. 
 
 That bodeth werre, and nothing pees. 
 
 The hed ful sharpe yground. 
 His stede was all dapple gray, 
 It goth an aumble in the way 
 
 Ful softely and round || in londe — 
 Lo, Lordes min, here is a fit; 
 If ye wol ony more of it. 
 
 To telle it wol I fond.
 
 THE RIME OF SIRE THOPAS. 01 
 
 Now hold your mouth pour charitc, 
 Bothe knight and lady tVe, 
 
 And herkeneth to my spell. 
 Of bataille and of chevalrie. 
 Of ladies love and druerie. 
 
 Anon 1 wol you tell. 
 
 Men speken of romaunces of pris, 
 Of Hoinchild, and of Ipotis, 
 
 Of Bevis, and Sire Guy, 
 Of Sire Libeux, and Pleindamour, 
 But Sire Thopas, he bereth the flour 
 
 Of real chevalrie. 
 
 His goode stede he al bestrode. 
 And forth upon his way he glode, 
 
 As sparcle out of bronde; 
 Upon his crest he bare a tour. 
 And therin stiked a lily flour, 
 
 God shilde his corps fro shonde. 
 
 And for he was a knight auntrous, 
 He n'olde slepen in non hous. 
 
 But liggen in his hood. 
 His brighte helm was his wanger. 
 And by him baited his destrer, 
 
 Of herbes fin and good. 
 
 Himself drank water of the well. 
 As did the knight Sire Percivell 
 
 So worthy under wede. 
 Til on a day
 
 92 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 PROLOGUE TO MELIBEUS. 
 
 No more of this for Gocldes dignitee. 
 Quod oure hoste, for thou makest me 
 So wery of thy veray lewednesse, 
 That al so wisly God my soule blesse, 
 Mill eres aken of thy drafty speche. 
 Now swiche a rime the devil I beteche; 
 This may wel be rime dogerel, quod he. 
 
 Why so? quod I, why wolt thou letten me 
 More of my tale, than an other man, 
 Sin that it is the beste rime I can? 
 
 By God, quod be, for plainlj^ at o word. 
 Thy drafty riming is not worth a tord : 
 Thou dost nought elles but dispendest time. 
 Sire, at o word, thou shalt no lenger rime. 
 Let see wher thou canst tellen ought in geste. 
 Or tellen in prose somwhat at the leste, 
 In which ther be som mirthe or som doctrine. 
 
 Gladly, quod I, by Goddes swete pine 
 1 wol you tell a litel thing in prose. 
 That oughte liken you, as T suppose. 
 Or elles certes ye be to dangerous. 
 It is a moral tale vertuous, 
 Al be it told somtime in sondry wise 
 Of sondry folk, as I shal you devise. 
 
 As thus, ye wote that every Evangelist, 
 That telleth us the peine of Jesu Crist, 
 Ne saith not alle thing as his felaw doth: 
 But natheles hir sentence is al soth. 
 And alle accorden as in hir sentence, 
 Al be ther in hir telling difference:
 
 THE TALE OF MELIBEUS. 93 
 
 For som of hem say more, and som say lesse. 
 Whan they his pitous passion expresse; 
 I mene of Mark and Mathew, Luke and John, 
 But douteles hir sentence is all on. 
 Therfore, lordinges all, I you beseche. 
 If that ye thiuke I vary in my speche. 
 As thus, though that I telle som del more 
 Of proverbes, than ye han herde before 
 Comprehended in this litel tretise here, 
 To enforcen with the effect of my matere, 
 And though I not the same wordes say 
 As ye han herde, yet to you alle I pray 
 Blameth me not, for, as in my sentence, 
 Shul ye nowher finden no difference 
 Fro the sentence of thilke tretise lite. 
 After the which this mery tale I write. 
 And therfore herkeneth what I shal say. 
 And let me tellen all my tale I pray. 
 
 THE TALE OF MELIBEUS. 
 
 A YONGE man called Melibeus, mighty and 
 riche, begate upon his wif, that called was Pru- 
 dence, a doughter which that called was Sophie. 
 Upon a day befell, that he for his disport is 
 went into the feldes him to playe. His wif and 
 eke his doughter hath he laft within his hous, of 
 which the dores weren fast yshette. Foure of 
 his olde foos han it espied, and setten ladders to 
 the walles of his hous, and by the windowes ben 
 entred, and beten his wif, and wounded his 
 doughter with five mortal woundes, in five son- 
 dry places; this is to say, in hire feet, in hire 
 
 I 2
 
 94 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 hondes, in hire eres, in hire nose, and in hire 
 mouth; and leften hire for dede, and wenten 
 away. 
 
 Whan Melibeus retorned was into his hous, 
 and sey al this meschief, he, Uke a mad man, 
 rending his clothes, gan to wepe and erie. 
 
 Prudence his wif, as far forth as she dorste, 
 besought him of his weping for to stint: but not 
 forthy he gan to crie and wepeu ever lenger the 
 more. 
 
 This noble wif Prudence remembred hire upon 
 the sentence of Ovide, in his book that cleped is 
 the Remedie of love, wheras he saith; he is a 
 fool that distourbeth the moder to wepe, in the 
 deth of hire childe, til she have wept hire fille, as 
 for a certain time : and than shal a man don his 
 diligence with amiable wordes hire to reconforte 
 and preye hire of hire weping for to stinte. For 
 which reson this noble wif Prudence suffred hire 
 housbond for to wepe and crie, as for a certain 
 space; and whan she saw hire time, she sayde 
 to him in this wise. Alas! my lord, quod she, 
 why make ye yourself for to be like a fool? For- 
 sothe it apperteineth not to a wise man, to maken 
 swiche a sorwe. Youre doughter, with the grace 
 of God, shal warish and escape. And al were it 
 so that she right now were dede, ye ne ought not 
 as for hire deth youreself to destroye. Senek 
 saith; the wise man shal not take to gret dis- 
 comfort for the deth of his children, but certes he 
 shulde suffren it in patience, as wel as he abideth 
 the deth of his owen propre persone. 
 
 This Melibeus answered anon and saide: what 
 man (quod he) shulde of his weping stinte, that
 
 THE TALE OF MELIBEUS. 95 
 
 hath so gret a cause for to wepe? Jesu Crist, our 
 Lord, himself wepte for the deth of Lazarus his 
 frend. Prudence answered; certes wel I wote, 
 attenipre weping is nothing defended, to him that 
 sorweful is, among folk in sorwe, but it is rather 
 graunted him to wepe. The Apostle Poule unto 
 the Romaines writeth; man shal rejoyce with 
 hem that maken joye, and wepen with swiche 
 folk as wepen. But though attempre weping be 
 ygranted, outrageous weping certes is defended. 
 Mesure of weping shulde be considered, after the 
 lore that techeth us Senek. Whan that thy frend 
 is dede (quod he) let not thin eyen to moiste ben 
 of teres, ne to muche drie: although the teres 
 comen to thin eyen, let hem not falle. And whan 
 thou hast forgon thy frend, do diligence to get 
 agein another frend: and this is more wisdom 
 than for to wepe for thy frend, which that thou 
 hast lorne, for therin is no bote. And therfore 
 if ye governe you by sapience, put away sorwe 
 out of youre herte. Remembreth you that Jesus 
 Sirak sayth; a man that is joyous and glad in 
 herte, it him conserveth florishing in his age: but 
 sothly a sorweful herte maketh his bones drie. 
 He saith eke thus, that sorwe in herte sleeth ful 
 many a man. Salomon sayth, that right as 
 mouthes in the shepes fleese anoien to the 
 clothes, and the smale wormes to the tree, right 
 so anoieth sorwe to the herte of man. Wherfore 
 us ought as wel in the deth of oure children, as 
 in the losse of oure goodes temporel, have 
 patience. 
 
 Remembre you upon the patient Job, whan he 
 hadde lost his children and his temporel sub-
 
 96 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 staunce, and in his body endured and received 
 ful many a grevous tribulation, yet sayde he 
 thus: Oure Lord hath yeve it to me, cure Lord 
 hath beraft it me ; right as oure Lord hath wold, 
 right so is it don; yblessed be the name of oure 
 Lord. To thise foresaide thinges answered Me- 
 libeus unto his wif Prudence: all thy wordes 
 (quod he) ben trewe, and therto profitable, but 
 trev/ely min herte is troubled with this sorwe so 
 grevously, that I n'ot what to don. Let calle 
 (quod Prudence) thyn trewe frendes alle, and 
 thy linage, which that ben wise, and telleth to 
 hem your cas, and herkeneth what they saye in 
 conseilling, and governe you after hir sentence. 
 Salomon saith; werke all things by conseil, and 
 thou shalt never repente. 
 
 Than, by conseil of his wif Prudence, this Me- 
 libeus let callen a gret congregation of folk, as 
 surgiens, phisiciens, olde folk and yonge, and 
 som of his olde enemies reconciled (as by hir 
 semblant) to his love and to his grace : and ther- 
 withal ther comen some of his neigheboures, that 
 diden him reverence more for drede than for love, 
 as it happeth oft. Ther comen also ful many 
 subtil flaterers, and wise Advocats lerned in 
 the lawe. 
 
 And whan thise folk togeder assembled weren, 
 this Melibeus in sorweful wise shewed hem his 
 cas, and by the manere of his speche, it semed 
 that in herte he bare a cruel ire, redy to don ven- 
 geaunce upon his foos, and sodeinly desired that 
 the werre shulde beginne, but natheles yet axed 
 he his conseil upon this matere. A surgien, by 
 licence and assent of swiche as weren wise, up
 
 THE TALE OF MELIBEUS. 97 
 
 rose, and unto Melibeus saycle, as ye moun 
 here. 
 
 Sire, (quod he) as to us surgiens apperteineth, 
 that we do to every wight the beste that we can, 
 wher as we ben withholden, and to our patient 
 that we do no damage: wherfore it happeth 
 many time and ofte, that whan twey men han 
 everich wounded other, o same surgien heleth 
 hem both, wherfore unto our art it is not perti- 
 nent to norice werre, ne parties to supporte. 
 But certes, as to the warishing of youre dough- 
 ter, al be it so that perilously she be wounded, 
 we shuln do so ententif besinesse fro day to 
 night, that with the grace of God, she shal be 
 hole and sound, as sone as is possible. Almost 
 right in the same wise the phisiciens answerden, 
 save that they saiden a fewe wordes more : that 
 right as maladies ben cured by hir contraries, 
 right so shal man warishe werre. His neighe- 
 boures ful of envie, his feined frendes that semed 
 reconciled, and his flaterers, maden semblant of 
 weping, and empeired and agregged niuchel of 
 this matere, in preysing gretly IMelibee of might, 
 of power, of richesse, and of frendes, despising 
 the power of his adversaries : and saiden outrely, 
 that he anon shulde wreken him on his foos, and 
 beginnen werre. 
 
 Up rose than an Advocat that was wise, by 
 leve and by conseil of other that were wise, and 
 sayde: Lordinges, the nede for the which we ben 
 assembled in this place, is a ful hevie thing, and 
 an heigh matere, because of the wrong and of the 
 wikkednesse that hath be don, and eke by reson 
 of the grete damages, that in time coming ben
 
 98 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 possible to fallen for the same cause, and eke by 
 reson of the gret richesse and power of the parties 
 bothe, for the which resons, it were a ful gret peril 
 to erren in this matere. Wherfore, Melibeus, 
 this is oure sentence; we conseille you, abovea 
 alle thing, that right anon thou do thy diligence 
 in keping of thy propre persona, in swiche a wise 
 that thou ne want non espie ne watche, thy 
 body for to save. And after that, we conseille 
 that in thin hous thou sette suffisant garnison, so 
 that they moun as wel thy body as thy hous de- 
 fende. But certes for to meeven werre, ne so- 
 denly for to do vengeaunce, we moun not deme 
 in so litel time that it were profitable. Wherfore 
 we axen leiser and space to have deliberation in 
 this cas to deme; for the comune proverbe saith 
 thus; He that sone demeth, sone shal repente. 
 And eke men sain, that thilke juge is wise, that 
 sone understondeth a matere, and jugeth by 
 leiser. For al be it so, that al tarying be 
 anoiful, algates it is not to repreve in yeving of 
 jugement, ne in vengeance taking, whan it is 
 suffisant and resonable. And that shewed our 
 Lord Jesu Crist by ensample, for whan that the 
 woman that was taken in advoutrie, was brought 
 in his presence to knowen what shuld be don 
 with hire persone, al be it that he wist wel him- 
 self what that he wolde answere, yet ne wolde 
 he not answere sodeinly, but he wolde have de- 
 liberation, and in the ground he wrote twies; and 
 bjr thise causes we axen deliberation: and we 
 shuln then by the grace of God conseille the 
 thing that shal be profitable. 
 
 Up sterte than the yonge folk at ones, and the
 
 THE TALE (J !•' MELIBEUS. iiii 
 
 most partie of that conipagnie ban scorned this 
 olde wise man, and begonnen to make noise and 
 saiden; Right so as while that iren is hot men 
 shulde smite, right so men shuhi do wreken hir 
 wronges, while that they ben freshe and newe : 
 and with loude voys they criden werre, werre. 
 Up rose tho on of thise olde wise, and with his 
 hand made countenaunce that men shuld holde 
 hem stille, and yeve him audience. Lordinges, 
 (quod he) ther is ful many a man that crieth 
 werre, werre, that wote ful litel what werre 
 amounteth. Werre at his beginning hath so 
 gret an entring and so large, that every wight 
 may enter whan him liketh, and lightly find 
 werre : but certes what end that shal befalle, it 
 is not light to know. For sothly whan that 
 werre is ones begoune, ther is ful many a child 
 unborne of his moder, that shal sterve yong, by 
 cause of thilke werre, other elles live in sorwe, 
 and dien in wretchednesse: and therfore or that 
 any werre be begonne, men must have gret con- 
 seil and gret deliberation. And whan this olde 
 man wende to enforcen his tale by resons, wel 
 nie alle at ones begonne they to rise, for to 
 breken his tale, and bidden him ful oft his wordes 
 for to abregge. For sothly he that precheth to 
 hem that listen not heren his wordes, his sermon 
 hem anoieth. For Jesus Sirak sayth, that mu- 
 sike in weping is a noious thing. This is to 
 sayn, as muche availleth to speke beforn folk to 
 which his speche anoieth, as to singe beforne him 
 that wepeth. And whan this wise saw that 
 him wanted audience, al shamefast he sette him 
 doun agein. For Salomon saith: ther as thou
 
 100 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 lie mayst have noii audience, enforce tliee not to 
 speke. I see wel, (quod this wise man) that the 
 comune proverbe is soth, that good conseil want- 
 eth, whan it is most nede. 
 
 Yet had this MeUbeus in his conseil many folk, 
 that prively in his ere conseilled him certain thing, 
 and conseilled him the contrary in general au- 
 dience. Whan Melibeus had herd that the 
 gretest partie of his conseil were accorded that 
 he shulde make werre, anon he consented to hire 
 conseilling, and fully alfermed hir sentence. 
 Than dame Prudence, whan that she saw how 
 that hire hosbonde shope him for to awreke him 
 on his foos, and to beginne werre, she in ful 
 humble wise, whan she saw hire time, sayde him 
 these wordes: my lord, (quod she) I you be- 
 seche as hertly as I dare and can, ne haste you 
 not to faste, and for alle guerdons as yeve me 
 audience. For Piers Alphonse sayth; who so 
 that doth to thee outher good or harme, haste 
 thee not to quite it, for in this wise thy frend 
 wol abide, and thin enemie shal the lenger live 
 in drede. The proverbe sayth; he hasteth wel 
 that wisely can abide: and in wikked hast is no 
 profite. 
 
 This Melibee answered unto his wif Prudence: 
 T purpose not (quod he) to werken by thy con- 
 seil, for many causes and resons: for certes 
 every wight wold hold me than a fool ; this is 
 to sayn, if I for thy conseilling wolde change 
 thinges, that ben ordeined and affirmed by so 
 many wise men. Secondly, I say, that all 
 women ben wicke, and non good of hem all. 
 For of a thousand men, saith Salomon, I found
 
 THE TALE OF MELIBEUS. 101 
 
 good man; but certes of alle women good 
 woman found I never. And also certes, if I 
 governed me by thy conseil, it shulde seme that 
 
 1 had yeve thee over me the maistrie: and God 
 forbede that it so were. For Jesus Sirak sayth, 
 that if the wif have the maistrie, she is contra- 
 rious to hire husbond. And Salomon sayth; 
 never in thy lif to thy wif, ne to thy childe, ne 
 to thy frend, ne yeve no power over thy self: for 
 better it were that thy children axe of thee thinges 
 that hem nedeth, than thou see thy self in the 
 handes of thy children. And also if I wol werche 
 by thy conseilling, certes it must be somtime se- 
 cree, til it were time that it be knowen : and this 
 ne may not be, if I shulde be conseilled by thee. 
 [For it is written; the janglerie of Avomen ne 
 ean no thing hide, save that which they wote not. 
 After the Philosophre sayth; in wikked conseil 
 women venquishen men: and for thise resons I 
 ne owe not to be conseilled by thee.] 
 
 Whan dame Prudence, ful debonairly and 
 with gret pacience, had herd all that hire hus- 
 bonde liked for to say, than axed she of him 
 licence for to speke, and sayde in this wise. My 
 lord, (quod she) as to your first reson, it may 
 lightly ben answerd: for I say that it is no folie 
 to chaunge conseil whan the thing is chaunged, 
 or elles whan the thing semeth otherwise than it 
 semed afore. And moreover I say, though that 
 ye have sworne and behight to performe your 
 emprise, and nevertheles ye Aveive to performe 
 thilke same emprise by just cause, men shuld 
 not say therfore ye were a Iyer, ne forsworn : 
 for the book sayth, that the wise man maketh no 
 
 VOL. 11. K
 
 102 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 lesing, whan he tunieth his corage for the better. 
 And al be it that your emprise be estabUshed and 
 ordeined by gret multitude of folk, yet thar you 
 not accomplish thilke ordinance but you liketh : 
 for the trouthe of thinges, and the profit, ben 
 rather founden in fewe folk that ben wise and 
 ful of reson, than by gret multitude of folk, ther 
 every man cryeth and clattereth what him liketh : 
 sothly swiche multitude is not honest. As to 
 the second reson, wheras ye say, thatalle women 
 ben wicke: save your grace, certes ye despise 
 alle women in this wise, and he that all despiseth, 
 as saith the book, all displeseth. And Senek 
 saith, that who so wol have sapience, shal no 
 man dispreise, but he shal gladly teche the 
 science that he can, without presumption or 
 pride: and swiche thinges as he nought can, he 
 shal not ben ashamed to lere hem, and to en- 
 quere of lesse folk than himself. And, Sire, 
 that ther hath ben ful many a good woman, 
 may lightly be preved : for certes, Sire, our 
 Lord Jesu Crist n'olde never han descended to 
 be borne of a woman, if all women had be 
 wicked. And after that, for the gret bountee 
 that is in women, our Lord Jesu Crist, whan he 
 was risen from deth to lif, appered rather to a 
 woman than to his Apostles. And though that 
 Salomon sayde, he found never no good woman, 
 it folweth not therfore, that all women be wicked : 
 for though that he ne found no good woman, 
 certes many another man hath founde many a 
 woman ful good and trewe. Or elles per- 
 aventure the entent of Salomon was this, that 
 in soveraine bountee he found no woman; this
 
 THE TALE OF MELIBEUS. 103 
 
 is to say, that ther is no wight that hath so- 
 veraine bountee, save God alone, as he himself 
 recordeth in his Evangelies. For ther is no 
 creature so good, that him ne wanteth sdmwhat 
 of the perfection of God that is his maker. 
 Youre thridde reson is this; ye say that if that 
 ye governe you by my couseil, it shulde seme 
 that ye had yeve me the maistrie and the lord- 
 ship of your person. Sire, save your grace, it 
 is not so; for if so were that no man shulde be 
 conseilled but only of hem that han lordship and 
 maistrie of his person, men n'olde not be con- 
 seilled so often : for sothly thilke man that ask- 
 eth conseil of a purpos, yet hath he free chois 
 whether he wol werke after that couseil or non. 
 And as to your fourth reson, ther as ye sain that 
 the jangleric of women can hide thinges that 
 they wot not; as who so sayth, that a woman 
 can not hide that she Avote; Sire, thise wordes 
 ben understonde of women that ben jangleresses 
 and wicked; of which women men sain that 
 three thinges driven a man out of his hous, that 
 is to say, smoke, dropping of raine, and wicked 
 wives. And of swiche women Salomon sayth, 
 That a man were better dwell in desert, than 
 with a woman that is riotous. And, sire, by 
 your leve, that am not I; for ye have ful often 
 assaied my gret silence and my gret patience, 
 and eke how wel that I can hide and hele 
 thinges, that men oughten secretly to hiden. 
 And sothly as to your fifthe reson, wheras ye 
 say, that in wicked conseil women venquishen 
 men; God wote that thilke reson stant here in 
 no stede : for understondeth now, ye axen con-
 
 104 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 seil for to do wickeduesse; and if ye vvol 
 werken wickednesse, and your wif restraineth 
 thilke wicked purpos, and overcometh you by 
 reson and by good consed, certes your wif ought 
 rather to be preised than to be blamed. Thus 
 shulde ye understonde the philosophre that 
 sayth, In wicked conseil women venquishen 
 hir husbondes. And ther as ye blamen all 
 women and hir resons, I shal shewe you by 
 many ensaraples, that many women have ben 
 ful good, and yet ben, and hir conseil holesome 
 and protitable. Eke som men han sayd, that 
 the conseil of women is either to dere, or elles 
 to litel of pris. But al be it so that ful many a 
 woman be bad, and hire conseil vile and nought 
 worth, yet han men founden ful many a good 
 woman, and discrete and wise in conseilling, 
 Lo, Jacob, thurgh the good conseil of his mother 
 Rebecke, wan the benison of his father, and the 
 lordship over all his brethren. Judith, by hire 
 good conseil, delivered the citee of Bethulie, in 
 which she dwelt, out of the honde of Holofern, 
 that had it beseged, and wolde it al destroye. 
 Abigail delivered Nabal hire housbond fro David 
 the king, that wolde han slain him, and appesed 
 the ire of the king by hire wit, and by Lire good 
 conseilling. Hester by hire conseil enhaunced 
 gretly the peple of God, in the regne of Assuerus 
 the king. And the same bountee in good con- 
 seilling of many a good woman moun men rede 
 and tell. And further more, whan that oure 
 Lord had created Adam oure forme father, he 
 sayd in this wise; it is not good to be a man 
 allone: make we to him an helpe serablable to
 
 THE TALE OF MELIBEUS. 105 
 
 himself. Here moun ye see tl^at if women weren 
 not good, and hir conseil good and profitable, 
 cure Lord God of heven wolde neither han wrought 
 hem, ne called hem helpe of man, but rather con- 
 fusion of man. And ther sayd a clerk ones in 
 two vers; what is better than gold? Jaspre. 
 What is better than jaspre? Wisdom. And 
 what is better than wisdom? Woman. And 
 what is better than a good woman? Nothing. 
 And, Sire, by many other resons moun ye seen, 
 that many women ben good, and hir conseil 
 good and profitable. And therfore, Sire, if ye 
 wol troste to my conseil, I shal restore you your 
 doughter hole and sound : and I wol don to you 
 so muche, that ye shuln have honour in this cas. 
 
 Whan Melibee had herd the wordes of his 
 wif Prudence, he sayd thus: I se wel that the 
 word of Salomon is soth; for he saith, that 
 wordes, that ben spoken discretly by ordinaunce, 
 ben honiecombes, for they yeven swetenesse to 
 the soule, and holsomnesse to the body. And, 
 wif, because of thy swete wordes, and eke for I 
 have preved and assaied thy grete sapience and 
 thy grete trouthe, I wol governe me by thy con- 
 seil in alle thing. 
 
 Now, Sire, (quod dame Prudence) and sin 
 that ye vouchesafe to be governed by my con- 
 seil, I wol enforme you how that ye shuln go- 
 verne yourself, in chesing of youre conseillours. 
 Ye shuln first in alle your werkes mekely be- 
 sechen to the heigh God, that he wol be your 
 conseillour: and shapeth you to swiche entente 
 that he yeve you conseil and comforte, as taught 
 Tobie his sone; at alle times thou shalt blesse 
 
 k2
 
 106 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 God, and preie him to dresse thy wayes; and 
 loke that alle thy conseils ben in him for ever- 
 more. Seint James eke sayth; if any of you 
 have nede of sapience, axe it of God. And af- 
 tervparde, than shulien ye take conseil in your- 
 self, and examine wel your owen thoughtes, of 
 svk'iche thinges as you thinketh that ben best for 
 your profit. And than shuhi ye drive fro your 
 herte three thinges that ben contrarious to good 
 conseil; that is to sayn, ire, coveitise, and has- 
 tinesse. 
 
 First, he that axeth conseil of himself, certes 
 he must be withouten ire, for many causes. The 
 first is this : he that hath gret ire and wrath in 
 himself, he weneth alway that he may do thing- 
 that he may not do. And secondly, he that is 
 irous and wroth, he may not wel deme: and he 
 that may not wel deme, may not wel conseille. 
 The thridde is this; he that is irous and wroth, 
 as sayth Senek, ne may not speke but blameful 
 thinges, and with his vicious wordes he stirreth 
 other folk to anger and to ire. And eke, Sire, 
 ye must drive coveitise out of your herte. For 
 the Apostle sayth, that coveitise is the rote of 
 alle harmes. And trosteth wel, that a coveitous 
 man ne can not deme ne thinke, but only to ful- 
 fille the ende of his coveitise; and certes that 
 ne may never ben accomplised; for ever the 
 more haboundance that he hath of richesse, the 
 more he desireth. And, Sire, ye must also drive 
 out of youre herte hastinesse: for certes ye ne 
 moun not deme for the beste a soden thought 
 that falleth in youre herte, but ye must avise you 
 on it ful ofte: for as ye have herde herebeforn.
 
 THE TALE OF MELIBEUS. 107 
 
 the commune proverbe is this; he that sone 
 -demeth, sone repenteth. 
 
 Sire, ye ne be not alway in like disposition, 
 for certes som thing that somtime semeth to you 
 that it is good for to do, another time it semeth 
 to you the contrarie. 
 
 And v/han ye han taken conseil in yourself, 
 and hau denied by good deliberation swiche 
 thing as you semeth beste, than rede I you that 
 ye kepe it secree. Bewreye not your conseil 
 to no persone, but if so be that ye wenen sikerly, 
 that thurgli youre bewreying youre condition 
 shal ben to you more profitable. For Jesus 
 Sirak saith : neither to thy foo ne to thy frend 
 discover not thy secree, ne thy folic: for they 
 woln yeve you audience and loking, and sup- 
 portation in youre presence, and scorne you in 
 youre absence. Another clerk sayth, that scarsly 
 shalt thou tinden any persone that may kepe thy 
 conseil secrely. The book sayth; while that 
 thou kepest thy conseil in thin herte, thou kepest 
 it in thy prison : and whan thou bewreyest thy 
 conseil to any wight, he holdeth thee in his 
 snare. And therfore you is better to hide your 
 conseil in your herte, than to preye him to wliom 
 ye han bewreyed youre conseil, that he wol kepe 
 it close and stille. For Seneca sayth : if so be 
 that thou ne mayst not thin owen conseil hide, 
 how darest thou preyen any other wight thy con- 
 seil secrely to kepe? but natheles, if thou wene 
 sikerly that thy bewreying of thy conseil to a 
 persone wol make thy condition to stonden in 
 the better plight, than shalt thou telle him thy 
 conseil in this wise. First, thou shalt make no
 
 108 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 semblant whether thee were lever pees or werre, 
 or this or that; ne shewe him not thy will ne 
 thia entente : for troste wel that comniunly these 
 conseillours ben flaterers, namely the conseil- 
 loms of grete lordes, for they enforcen hem 
 alway rather to speken plesant wordes enclining 
 to the lordes lust, than wordes that ben trewe or 
 profitable: and therfore men sayn, that the riche 
 man hath selde good conseil, but if he have it of 
 himself. And after that thou shalt consider thy 
 frendes and thin enemies. And as touching thy 
 frendes, thou shalt consider which of hem ben 
 most feithful and most wise, and eldest and most 
 appreved in conseilling: and of hem shalt thou 
 axe thy conseil, as the cas requireth. 
 
 I say, that first ye shuln clepe to youre conseil 
 youre frendes that ben trewe. For Salomon 
 saith: that right as the herte of a man deliteth 
 in savour that is swote, right so the conseil of 
 trewe frendes yeveth swetenesse to the soule. 
 He sayth also, ther may nothing be likened to 
 the trewe frend: for certes gold ne silver ben 
 not so rauche worth as the good will of a trewe 
 frend. And eke he sayth, that a trewe frend is 
 a strong defence; who so that it findeth, certes 
 he findeth a gret tresor. Than shuln ye eke 
 consider if that your trewe frendes ben discrete 
 and wise: for the book saith, axe alway thy 
 conseil of hem that ben wise. And by this 
 same reson shuln ye clepen to youre conseil 
 youre frendes that ben of age, swiche as ban seyn 
 and ben expert in many thinges, and ben ap- 
 preved in conseillinges. For the book sayth, in 
 olde men is al the sapience, and in longe time
 
 THE TALE OF MELIBEUS. 109 
 
 the prudence. And TuUius sayth, that grete 
 thhiges ne ben not ay acconipHsed by strengthe, 
 ne by delivernesse of body, but by good conseil, 
 by auctoritee of persones, and by science: the 
 which three thinges ne ben not feble by age, but 
 certes they enforcen and encresen day by day. 
 And than shuhi ye kepe this for a general reule. 
 First ye shuhi clepe to youre conseil a fewe of 
 youre frendes that ben especial. For Salomon 
 saith; many frendes have thou, but among a 
 thousand chese thee on to be thy conseillour. 
 For al be it so, that thou first ne telle thy con- 
 seil but to a fewe, thou mayest afterwarde tell it 
 to mo folk, if it be nede. But loke alway that 
 thy conseillours have thilke three conditions that 
 I have sayd before; that is to say, that they be 
 trewe, wise, and of olde experience. And werke 
 not alway in every nede by on conseillour allone : 
 for somtime behoveth it to be conseilled by 
 many. For Salomon sayth ; salvation of thinges 
 is wher as ther ben many conseillours. 
 
 Now sith that I have told you of which folk 
 ye shulde be conseilled: now wol I teche you 
 which conseil ye ought to eschue. First ye 
 shuln eschue the conseilling of fooles; for Salo- 
 mon sayth, Take no conseil of a fool : for he ne 
 can not conseille but after his owen lust and his 
 affection. The book sayth, the propretee of a 
 fool is this: He troweth lightly harme of every 
 man, and lightly troweth all bountee in himself. 
 Thou shalt eke eschue the conseilling of all fla- 
 terers, swiche as enforcen hem rather to preisen 
 youre persone by flaterie, than for to tell you the 
 sothfastnesse of thinges.
 
 110 CAJVTERBURT TALES. 
 
 Wherfore Tullius sayth, Among alle the pes- 
 tilences that ben in iVendship, the gretest is 
 flaterie. And thertbre it is more nede that thou 
 eschue and drede flaterers, than any other peple. 
 The book saith, Thou shalt rather drede and flee 
 fro the swete wordes of flatering preisers, tlian 
 fro the egre wordes of thy frend that saith thee 
 sothes. Salomon saith, that the wordes of a 
 flaterer is a snare to cacchen innocentes. He 
 sayth also, He that speketh to his frend wordes 
 of swetenesse and of plesaunce, he setteth a net 
 beforne his feet to cacchen him. And therfore 
 sayth Tullius, Encline not thin eres to flaterers, 
 ne take no conseil of wordes of flaterie. And 
 Caton sayth, Avise thee wel, and eschue wordes 
 of swetenesse and of plesaunce. And eke thou 
 shalt eschue the conseilling of thin olde ene- 
 mies that ben reconciled. The book sayth, that 
 no wight retourneth safely into the grace of his 
 olde enemie. And Ysope sayth, Ne trost not 
 to hem, to which thou hast somtime had werre 
 or enmitee, ne telle hem not thy conseil. And 
 Senek telleth the cause why. It may not be, 
 sayth he, ther as gret fire hath long time en- 
 dured, that ther ne dwelleth sora vapour of 
 warmnesse. And therfore saith Salomon, In 
 thin olde foo trost thou never. For sikerly, 
 though thin enemie be reconciled, and maketh 
 thee chere of humilitee, and louteth to thee with 
 his hed, ne trost him never: for certes he maketh 
 thilke feined humilitee more for his profite, than 
 for any love of thy persone; because that he 
 demeth to have victorie over thy persone by 
 svviche feined contenance, the which victorie he
 
 THK TALE OF MELIBETJS. Ill 
 
 might not have by strif of werre. And Peter 
 Alphonse sayth ; Make no felawship with thin 
 olde enemies, for if thou do hem bountee, they 
 wolien perverten it to wickednesse. And eke 
 thou must eschue the conseiUing of hem that ben 
 thy servaunts, and beren thee gret reverence: 
 for paraventure they fein it more for drede than 
 for love. And therfore saith a philosophre in 
 this wise : Ther is no wight parfitly trewe to 
 him that he to sore dredeth. And Tullius sayth, 
 Ther n'is no might so gret of any emperour 
 that longe may endure, but if he have more 
 love of the peple than drede. Thou shalt also 
 eschue the conseilling of folk that ben dronk- 
 elewe, for they ne can no conseil hide. For 
 Salomon sayth, Ther n'is no privetee ther as 
 regneth dronkennesse. Ye shuln also have in 
 suspect the conseilling of swiche folk as con- 
 seille you o thing prively, and conseille you the 
 contrarie openly. For Cassiodore sayth. That 
 it is a raanere sleighte to hinder his enemy whan 
 he sheweth to don a thing openly, and w^erketh 
 prively the contrary. Thou shalt also have in 
 suspect the conseilling of wicked folk, for hir 
 conseil is alway ful of fraude. And David 
 sayth ; Blisful is that man that hath not folwed 
 the conseilling of shrewes. Thou shalt also 
 eschue the conseilling of yonge folk, for hir con- 
 seilling is not ripe, as Salomon saith. 
 
 Now, Sire, sith I have shewed you of which 
 folk ye shuUen take youre conseil, and of which 
 folk ye shullen eschue the conseil, now wol I 
 teche you how ye shtdn examine your conseil 
 after the doctrine of Tullius. In examining than
 
 112 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 of your conseillours, ye shuhi considie many 
 thinges. Aldeilirst thou shalt consklre that in 
 thilke thing- that thou purposest, and upon what 
 thing that thou wolt have conseil, that veray 
 trouthe be said and conserved; this is to say, 
 telle trewely thy tale: for he that sayth false, 
 may not wel be conseilled in that cas, of which 
 he lieth. And after this, thou shalt considre 
 the thinges that accorden to that thou purposest 
 for to do by thy conseillours, if reson accord 
 therto, and eke if thy might may atteine therto, 
 and if the more part and the better part of thin 
 conseillours accorden therto or no. Than shalt 
 thou considre what thing shal folwe of that con- 
 seilling; as hate, pees, werre, grace, profite, or 
 domage, and many other thinges: and in alle 
 thinges thou shalt chese the beste, and weive 
 alle other thinges. Than shalt thou considre of 
 what roote is engendred the matere of thy con- 
 seil, and what fruit it may conceive and en- 
 gendre. Thou shalt eke considre alle the causes, 
 from whennes they ben sprongen. And whan 
 thou hast examined thy conseil, as I have said, 
 and which partie is the better and more profit- 
 able, and hast appreved it by many wise folk 
 and olde, than shalt thou considre, if thou mayst 
 performe it and maken of it a good ende. For 
 certes reson wol not that any man shulde be- 
 ginne a thing, but if he mighte performe it as 
 him oughte: ne no wight shulde take upon him 
 so hevy a charge, that he might not beren it. 
 For the proverbe sayth; he that to muche em- 
 braceth distreineth litel. AndCaton saith; assay 
 to do swiche thinges as thou hast power to don,
 
 THE TALE OF MELIBEUS. 113 
 
 lest the charge oppresse thee so sore, that thee 
 behoveth to weive thing that thou hast begonne. 
 And if so be that thou be in doute, whether thou 
 mayst performe a thing or non, chese rather to 
 sufire than to beginne. And Peter Aiphonse 
 sayth; If thou hast might to don a thitig, of 
 which thou must repente, it is better nay than 
 ya: this is to sayn, that thee is better to holde 
 thy tonge stille than for to speke. Than mayst 
 thou understonde by stronger resons, that if thou 
 hast power to performe a werk, of which thou 
 shalt repente, than is thee better that thou suffre 
 than beginne. Wei sain they that defenden 
 every wight to assaye a thing of which he is in 
 doute, whether he may performe it or non. And 
 after whan ye ban examined youre conseil, as I 
 have said beforne, and knowen wel that ye moun 
 performe your emprise, conferme it than sadly 
 til it be at an ende. 
 
 Now is it reson and time that I shewe you 
 whan, and wherfore, that ye moun chaunge your 
 conseil, withouten repreve. Sothly, a man may 
 change his purpos and his conseil, if the cause 
 ceseth, or whan a newe cas betideth. For the 
 lawe saith, that upon thinges that newly betiden, 
 behoveth newe conseil. And Seneca sayth; if 
 thy conseil is coraen to the eres of thin enemies, 
 chaunge thy conseil. Thou mayst also chaunge 
 thy conseil, if so be that thou find that by errour, 
 or by other cause, harme or damage may betide. 
 Also if thy conseil be dishoneste, other elles 
 come of dishoneste cause, chaunge thy conseil: 
 for the lawes sain, that all behestes that ben 
 dishoneste ben of no value: and eke, if so be 
 
 VOL. II. L
 
 114 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 that it be impossible, or may not goodly be per- 
 formed or kept. 
 
 And take this for a general reule, that every 
 conseil that is affermed so strongly, that it may 
 not be chauuged for no condition that may be- 
 tide, I say that thilke conseil is wicked. 
 
 This Melibeus, whan he had herd the doc- 
 trine of his wif dame Prudence, answered in 
 this wise. Dame, quod he, as yet unto this time 
 ye han wel and covenably taught me, as in ge- 
 neral, how I shal governe me in the chesing and 
 in the withholding of my conseillours: but now 
 wold I faitt that ye wold condescend in especial, 
 and telle me how liketh you, or what semeth you 
 by oure conseillours that we han chosen in oure 
 present nede. 
 
 My lord, quod she, I beseche you in alle hum- 
 blesse, that ye wol not wilfully replie agein my 
 resons, ne distempre your herte, though I speke 
 thing that you displese ; for God wote that, 
 as in min entente, I speke it for your beste, for 
 youre honour and for youre profite eke, and 
 sothly I hope that youre benignitee wol taken it 
 in patience. And trosteth me wel, quod she, 
 that youre conseil as in this cas ue shulde not 
 (as to speke proprely) be called a conseilling, 
 but a motion or a meving of folie, in which con- 
 seil ye han erred in many a sondry wise. 
 
 First and forward, ye han erred in the assem- 
 bling of youre conseillours; for ye sholde first 
 han cleped- a fewe folk to youre conseil, and 
 after ye mighte han shewed it to mo folk, if it 
 hadde be nede. But certes ye han sodeinly 
 cleped to your conseil a gret multitude of peple.
 
 THE TALE OF MELIBEUS. lU) 
 
 ful chargeant and ful anoyous for to here. Also 
 ye han erred, for ther as ye shulde han only 
 cleped to youre conseile youre trewe freudes, 
 olde and wise, ye han cleped straunge folk, 
 yonge folk, false flaterers, and enemies recon- 
 ciled, and folk that don you reverence withouten 
 love. And eke ye han erred, for yd han brought 
 with you to youre conseil ire, coveitise, and 
 hastifnesse, the which three thinges ben con- 
 trary to every conseil honest and profitable: the 
 which three thinges ye ne han not anientissed or 
 destroyed, neither in youreself ne in youre con- 
 seillours, as you ought. Ye han erred also, for 
 ye han shewed to youre conseillours youre talent 
 and youre affections to make werre anon, and 
 for to do vengeaunce, and they han espied by 
 youre wordes to what thing ye ben enclined: 
 and therfore han they conseilled you rather to 
 youre talent, than to your profite. Ye han erred 
 also, for it semeth that you sufiiceth to han ben 
 conseilled by thise conseillours only, and v/ith 
 litel avis, wheras in so high and so gret a nede, 
 it had ben necessarie mo conseillours, and more 
 deliberation to performe your emprise. Ye han 
 erred also, for ye han not examined your con- 
 sed in the foresaid manere, ne in due manere, as 
 the cas requireth. Ye han erred also, for ye 
 han maked no division betwix youre conseil- 
 lours; this is to sayn, betwix youre trewe 
 frendes and youre feined conseillours: ne ye 
 han not knowe the wille of your trewe frendes, 
 olde and wise, but ye han cast alle hir wordes 
 in an hochepot, and enclined your herte to the 
 more part and to the greter nombre, and ther be
 
 116 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 ye condescended ; and sith ye wot wel that men 
 shuin alway finde a greter nombre of fooles than 
 of wise men, and therfore the conseillings that 
 ben at congregations and multitudes of folk, ther 
 as men take more regard to the nombre, than to 
 the sapience of persones, ye seen wel, that ia 
 swiche conseillings fooles han the maistrie. Me- 
 libeus answered and said agein: I graunte wel 
 that I have erred; but ther as thou hast told 
 me herebeforne, that he n'is not to blame that 
 chaungeth his conseil in certain cas, and for cer- 
 tain and just causes, I am al redy to chaunge 
 my conseil right as thou wolt devise. The pro- 
 verbe sayth; for to don sinne is mannish, but 
 certes for to persevere long in sinne is werke of 
 the Divel. 
 
 To this sentence answered anon dame Pru- 
 dence, and saide; examineth (quod she) wel 
 your conseil, and let us see the which of hem 
 han spoken most resonably, and taught you best 
 conseil. And for as muche as the examination 
 is necessarie, let us beginne at the Surgiens and 
 at the Physiciens, that first spaken in this mater. 
 I say that Physiciens and Surgiens han sayde 
 you in youre conseil discretly, as hem oughte: 
 and in hir speche saiden ful wisely, that to the 
 office of hem apperteineth to don to every Avight 
 honour and profite, and no wight to anoye, and 
 after hir craft to don gret diligence unto the cure 
 of hem which that they han in hir governaunce. 
 And, Sire, right as they han answered wisely 
 and discretly, right so rede I that they be highly 
 and soverainly guerdoned for hir noble speche, 
 and eke for they shulden do the more ententif
 
 THE TALE OF MELIBEUS. 117 
 
 besinesse in the cnration of thy dere doughter. 
 For al be it so that they ben youre frendes, 
 therfore shiillea ye not suffreu, that they serve 
 you for nought, but ye oughte the rather guer- 
 done hem, and shewe hem youre largesse. And 
 as touching the proposition, which the Phy- 
 siciens entreteden in this cas, this is to sain, that 
 in maladies, that a contrarie is warished by ano- 
 ther contrarie; I wold fain knowe how ye un- 
 derstonde thilke text, and what is youre sen- 
 tence. Certes, quod Melibeus, I understond it 
 in this wise; that right as they han don me a 
 contrarie, right so shulde I don hem another; for 
 right as they han venged hem upon me and don 
 me wrong, right so shal I venge me upon hem, 
 and don hem wrong, and than have I cured a 
 contrarie by another. 
 
 Lo, lo, quod dame Prudence, how lightly is 
 every man enclined to his owen desire and his 
 owen plesaunce ! certes (quod she) the wordes 
 of the Physiciens ne shulden not han ben under- 
 stonden in that wise; for certes wickednesse is 
 not contrarie to wickednesse, ne vengeaunce to 
 vengeaunce, ne wrong to wrong, but they ben 
 semblable : and therfore a vengeaunce is not 
 warished by another vengeaunce, ne a wrong by 
 another wrong, but everich of hem encreseth and 
 aggreggeth other. But certes the wordes of the 
 Physiciens shulden ben understonde in this wise; 
 for good and wickednesse ben two contraries, 
 and pees and werre, vengeaunce and suftVaunce, 
 discord and accord, and many other thinges: 
 but certes, wickednesse shal be warished by 
 goodnesse, discord by accord, werre by pees, 
 
 l2
 
 118 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 and so forth of other thinges. And hereto ac- 
 cordeth Seint Poiile the Apostle in many places: 
 he sayth, ne yelde not harme for harme, ne 
 wicked speche for wicked speche, but do wel to 
 him that doth to thee harme, and blesse him 
 that saith to thee harme. And in many other 
 places he amonesteth pees and accord. But now 
 wol I speke to you of the conseil, which that 
 was yeven to you by the men of lawe, and the 
 wise folk, and old folke, that sayden alle by on 
 accord as ye han herd beforne, that over alle 
 thinges ye shuln do youre diligence to kepe 
 youre persone, and to warnestore your house: 
 and saiden also, that in this cas you oughte for 
 to werchen ful avisely and with gret deliberation. 
 And, Sire, as to the first point, that toucheth 
 the keping of youre persone, ye shuln under- 
 stond, that he that hath werre, shal ever more 
 devoutly and mekely preien beforne alle thinges, 
 that Jesu Crist of his mercie wol han him in his 
 protection, and ben his soveraine helping at his 
 nede: for certes in this world ther is no wight 
 that may be conseilled ne kept suffisantly, with- 
 oute the keping of oure lord Jesu Crist. To this 
 sentence accordeth the Prophete David that 
 sayth : if God ne kepe the citee, in idel waketh 
 he that kepeth it. Now, Sire, than shuln ye 
 committe the keping of youre persone to youre 
 trewe frendes, that ben appreved and yknowe, 
 and of hem shuln ye axen helpe, youre persone 
 for to kepe. For Caton saith: if thou have nede 
 of helpe, axe it of thy frendes, for ther n'is non 
 so good a Physicicn as thy trewe frend. And 
 after this than shuln ye kepe you fro alle straunge
 
 THE TALE OF MELIBEUS. 119 
 
 folk, and fro lieres, and have alway in suspect 
 hir compaignie. For Piers Alphonse sayth : ne 
 take no compaignie by the way of a straunge 
 man, but if so be that thou have knowen him of 
 lenger time: and if so be that he falle into thy 
 compaignie paraventure w^ithouten thin assent, 
 enquere than, as subtilly as thou niaist, of his 
 conversation, and of his lif beforne, and feiue 
 thy v/ay, saying thou wolt go thider as thou 
 wolt not go: and if he here a spere, hold thee 
 on the right side, and if he bere a swerd, hold 
 thee on his left side. And after this than shuln 
 ye kepe you wisely from all swiche manere peple 
 as I have sayed before, and hem and hir conseil 
 eschue. And after this than shuln ye kepe you 
 in swiche manere, that for any presumption of 
 youre sirengthe, that ye ne despise not, ne ac- 
 count not the might of your adversary so lite, that 
 ye let the keping of youre persone for your pre- 
 sumption; for every wise man dredeth his ene- 
 mie. And Salomon sayth; welful is he that of 
 alle hath drede; For certes he that thurgh the 
 hardinesse of his herte, and thurgh the hardi- 
 nesse of himself, hath to gret presumption, him 
 shal evil betide. Than shuln ye evermo coun- 
 trewaite emboyssements, and alle espiaile. For 
 Senek sayth, that the wise man that dredeth 
 harmes, eschueth harmes ; ne he ne falleth into 
 perils, that perils eschueth. And al be it so, 
 that it seme that thou art in siker place, yet 
 sbalt thou alway do thy diligence in keping of 
 thy persone; this is to sayn, ne be not negli- 
 gent to kepe thin persone, not only fro thy gretest 
 enemy, but also fro thy leste enemy. Senek
 
 120 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 sayth ; a man that is wel avised, he dredeth his 
 leste eneiuie. Ovide sayth, that the litel wesel 
 •wol slee the gret boll and the wilde hart. And 
 the book sayth ; a litel thorne may prikke a king 
 ful sore, and a litel honnd wol hold the wilde 
 bore. But natheles, I say not thou shalt be so 
 coward, that thou doute wher as is no drede. 
 The book saith, that som men [han taught hir 
 deceivour, for they han to muche dreded] to be 
 deceived. Yet shalt thou drede to be empoy- 
 soned; and [therfore shalt thou] kepe thee fro 
 the compagnie of scorners: for the book sayth, 
 with scorners ne make no compagnie, but flee hir 
 wordes as venime. 
 
 Now as to the second point, wheras youre 
 wise conseillours conseilled you to warnestore 
 your hous with gret diligence, I wolde fain knowe 
 how that ye understode thilke wordes, and what 
 is youre sentence. 
 
 Melibeus answered and saide; Certes I un- 
 derstond it in this wise, that I shal warnestore 
 min hous v/ith toures, swiche as han castejles 
 and other manere edifices, and armure, and artel- 
 ries, by which thinges I may my persone and 
 myn hous so kepen and defenden, that min ene- 
 mies shuln ben in drede min hous for to approche. 
 
 To this sentence answered anon Prudence. 
 Wavnestoring (quod she) of heighe toures and of 
 grete edifices, is with grete costages and with 
 grete travaille; and whan that they ben accom- 
 pliced, yet ben they not worth a stre, but if they 
 ben defended by trewe frendes, that ben olde and 
 wise. And underslonde wel, that the greteste 
 and strongeste garneson that a riche man may
 
 THE TALE OF MELIBEUS. 121 
 
 have, as wel to kepen his persone as his goodes, 
 is, that he be beloved with his subgets, and with 
 his neigheboures. For thus sayth TuUius, that 
 ther is a maiier garneson, that no man. may ven- 
 qiiish ne discomMte, and that is a lord to be be- 
 loved of his citizeins, and of his peple. 
 
 Now, Sire, as to the thridde point, wheras 
 youre olde and wise conseillours sayden, that 
 you ne oughte not sodeinly ne hastily proceden 
 in this nede, but that you oughte purveyen and 
 appareilen you in this cas, with gret diligence and 
 gret deliberation; trev»^ely,I trowe, that they say- 
 den right wisely and right soth. For Tullius 
 sayth : in every nede er thou beginne it, appa- 
 reile thee with gret diligence. Than say I, that 
 in vengeaunce taking, in werre, in bataiiie, and in 
 warnestoring, er thou beginne, I rede that thou 
 appareile thee therto, and do it with gret deli- 
 beration. For Tullius sayth, that longe appa- 
 reiling tofore the bataiiie, maketh short victorie. 
 And Cassiodorus sayth : the garneson is stronger, 
 whan it is longe time avised. 
 
 But now let us speken of the conseil that was 
 accorded by youre neigheboures, swiche as don 
 you reverence withouten love; youre olde ene- 
 mies reconciled; your flatereres, that conseilled 
 you certain thinges prively, and openly conseilled 
 you the contrarie; the yonge folk also, that con- 
 seilled you to venge you, and to make werre 
 anon. Certes, Sire, as I have sayde beforne, 
 ye han gretly erred to han cleped swiche maner 
 folk to youre conseil, which conseillours ben 
 ynough reproved by the resons aforesaid. But 
 natheles, let us now desceude to the special.
 
 122 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 Ye shul first proceden after the doctrine of Tiil- 
 lius. Certes the troiithe of this.matere or of this 
 conseil nedeth not diligently to enquere, for it is 
 wel wist, which they ben that han don to you 
 this trespas and vilanie, and how many tres- 
 pasours, and in what manere they han don to 
 you all this wrong, and all this vilanie. And 
 after this, than shuin ye examine the second 
 condition, which that the same Tullius addeth 
 in this matere. For Tullius putteth a thing, 
 which that he clepeth consenting: this is to 
 sayn, who ben they, and which ben they, and 
 how many, that consenten to thy conseil in thy 
 wilfulnesse, to don hastif vengeaunce. x\nd let 
 us considre also who ben they, and how many 
 ben they, and which ben they, that consenteden 
 to youre adversaries. As to the first point, it 
 is wel knowen which folk they be that con- 
 senteden to youre wilfulnesse. For trewely, all 
 tho that conseileden you to maken sodein werre, 
 ne ben not youre frendes. Let us noAv considre 
 which ben they that ye holden so gretly youre 
 frendes, as to youre persone: for al be it so that 
 ye be mighty and riche, certes ye ne ben but 
 allone: for certes ye ne han no child but a 
 doughter, ne ye ne han no brethren, ne cosins 
 germains, ne non other nigh kinrede, wherfore 
 that youre enemies for drede shulde stinte to 
 plede with you, or to destroye youre persone. 
 Ye knowen also, that your richesses moten ben 
 dispended in diverse parties; and whan that 
 every wight hath his part, they ne wollen taken 
 but litel regard to venge youre deth. But thin 
 enemies ben three, and they han many brethren.
 
 THE TALE OF MELIBEUS. 123 
 
 children, cosins, and other nigh kinrede: and 
 though so were, that thou haddest slain of hem 
 two or three, yet dwellen ther ynow to wreken 
 hir deth, and to slee thy persone. And though 
 so be that youre kinrede be more stedefast and 
 siker than the kin of your adversaries, yet 
 natheles youre kinrede is but a fer kinrede; 
 they ben but Utel sibbe to you, and the kin of 
 youre enemies ben nigh sibbe to hem. And 
 certes as in that, hir condition is better than 
 youres. Than let us considre also of the con- 
 seiUing of hem that conseilled you to take sodeiu 
 vengeance, whether it accorde to reson: and 
 certes, ye knowe wel, nay; for as by right and 
 reson, ther may no man taken vengeaunce on no 
 wight, but the juge that hath the jurisdiction of 
 it, whan it is ygraunted him to take thilke ven- 
 geaunce hastily, or attemprely, as the lawe re- 
 quireth. And yet moreover of thilke word that 
 Tullius clepeth consenting, thou shalt considre, 
 if thy might and thy power may consente and 
 suffice to thy wilfulnesse, and to thy conseil- 
 lours: and certes, thou mayest wel say, that 
 nay; for sikerly, as for to speke proprely, we 
 raoun do nothing but only swiche thing as we 
 moun don rightfully: and certes rightfully ye ne 
 movve take no vengeance, as of your propre auc- 
 toritee. Than mowe ye sen that your power ne 
 consenteth not, ne accordeth not to youre wil- 
 fulnesse. Now let us examine the thridde 
 point, that Tullius clepeth consequent. Thou 
 shalt understonde, that the vengeaunce that thou 
 purposest for to take, is the consequent, and 
 therof folweth another vengeance, peril, . and
 
 124 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 werre, and other damages withouten nombre, of 
 which we ben not ware, as at this time. And 
 as touching the fourthe point, that TnUius cle- 
 peth engendring, thou shalt consider, that this 
 wrong which that is don to thee, is engendred of 
 the hate of thin enemies, and of the vengeaunce 
 taking upon that wokl engender another ven- 
 geaunce, and muchel sorwe and wasting of 
 richesses, as I sayde ere. 
 
 Now, sire, as to the point, that Tulliu's clepeth 
 causes, which that is the last point, thou shalt 
 understonde, that the wrong that thou hast re- 
 ceived, hath certaine causes, which that clerkes 
 clepen oriens, and efficiens, and caiisa longmqna, 
 and causa propinqua, this is to sayn, the fer 
 cause, and the nigh cause. The fer cause is al- 
 mighty God, that is cause of alle thinges: the 
 ner cause, is thin three enemies; the cause acci- 
 dental was hate ; the cause material, ben the five 
 woundes of thy doughter; the cause formal, is 
 the raaner of hir werking, that broughten ladders, 
 and clomben in at thy windowes ; the cause final 
 was for to slee thy doughter; it letted not in as 
 muche as in hem ^v*as. But for to speke of the 
 fer cause, as to what ende they shuin come, or 
 what shal finally betide of hem in this cas, ne 
 can I not deme, but by conjecting and sup- 
 posing: for we shuln suppose, that they shuln 
 come to a wicked ende, because that the book of 
 Decrees sayth: Selden or with gret peine ben 
 causes ybrought to a good ende, whan they ben 
 badly begonne. 
 
 Now, Sire, if men wold axen me, why that 
 God sufFred men do you this vilanie, certes I
 
 THE TALE OF MELIBEUS. 125 
 
 can not wel answer, as for no sothfastnesse. 
 For the Apostle sayth, that the sciences, and 
 the jugements of oure Lord God Almighty ben 
 ful depe ; ther may no man comprehend ne serche 
 hem suffisantly. Natheles, by certain presump- 
 tions and conjectings, I hold and beleve, that 
 God, which that is ful of justice and of right- 
 wisenesse, hath suffered this betide, by just 
 cause resonable. 
 
 Thy name is Melibee, this is to sayn, a man 
 that drinketh hony. Thou hast dronke so muche 
 hony of swete tempore! richesses, and delices, 
 and honours of this world, that thou art dronken, 
 and hast forgetten Jesu Ciist thy creatour: thou 
 ne hast not don to him swiche honour and reve- 
 rence as thee ought, ne thou ne hast wel y taken 
 kepe to the wordes of Ovide, that sayth: Under 
 the honey of the goodes of thy body is hid the 
 venime that sleth the soule. And Salomon 
 sayth: If thou hast founden hony, ete of it that 
 suificeth; for if thou ete of it out of mesure, thou 
 shalt spewe, and be nedy and poure. And per- 
 aventure Crist hath thee in despit, and hath 
 tourned away fro thee his face, and his eres of 
 misericorde; and also he hath suftred, that thou 
 hast ben punished in the manere that thou hast 
 ytrespased. Thou hast don sinne again oure 
 Lord Crist, for certes the three enemies of man- 
 kind, that is to sayn, the flesh, the feud, and the 
 world, thou hast suftred hem entre into thin herte 
 wilfully, by the windowes of thy body, and hast 
 not defended thyself sufEsantly agein hir assautes, 
 and hir temptations, so that they han woiaided 
 thy soule in five places, this is to sayn the dedly 
 
 VOL. II. M
 
 126 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 sinnes that bea entred into thyn herte by thy five 
 wittes: and in the same manere our Lord Crist 
 hath wold and sufFred, that thy three enemies 
 ben entred into thyn hous by the windowes, and 
 han ywounded thy doughter in the foresayd 
 manere. 
 
 Certes, quod Melibee, T see wel that ye en- 
 force you muchel by wordes to overcomen me, in 
 swiche manere, that I shal not venge me on mine 
 enemies, shewing me the perils and the evils that 
 mighten falle of this vengeaunce: but who so 
 wolde considre in alle vengeaunees the perils 
 and evils that mighten sue of vengeaunce taking, 
 a man wold never take vengeaunce, and that were 
 harme: for by the vengeaunce taking ben the 
 wicked men dissevered fro the goode men. And 
 they that han will to do wickednesse, restreinen 
 hir wicked purpos, whan they sen the punishing 
 and the chastising of the trespasours. [To this 
 answered dame Prudence: Certes, quod she, I 
 graunte you that of vengeaunce taking cometh 
 muche evil and rauche good; but vengeaunce 
 taking apperteineth not to everich on, but only 
 to juges, and to hem that han the jurisdiction 
 over the trespasours;] and yet say I more, that 
 right as a singuler persone sinneth in taking ven- 
 geaunce of another man, right so sinneth the juge, 
 if he do no vengeaunce of hem that it han de- 
 served. For Senek sayth thus: That maister 
 (he sayth) is good, that preveth shrewes. And 
 Cassiodore saith: A man dredeth to do outrages, 
 whan he wot and knoweth, that it displeseth to 
 the juges and soveraines. And another sayth : 
 The juge that dredeth to do right, maketh men
 
 THE TALE OF MELIBEUS. T27 
 
 shrewes. And Seiiit Poule the Apostle sayth 
 ill his Epistle, whan he writeth unto the Ro- 
 maines, that the juges beren not the spere with- 
 outen cause, but they beren it to punishe the 
 shrewes and luisdoers, and for to defende the 
 goode men. If ye wiln than take vengeaunee of 
 youre enemies, ye shuln retourne or have your 
 recours to the juge, that hath the jurisdiction 
 upon hem, and he shal punishe hem, as the lawe 
 axeth and requireth. 
 
 A, sayd Melibee, this vengeaunee liketh me 
 nothing. I bethink me now, and take hede how 
 that fortune hath norished me fro my childhode, 
 and hath holpen me to passe many a stronge pas : 
 now wol I assayen hire, trowing, with Goddes 
 helpe, that she shal helpe me ipy shame for to 
 
 venge. 
 
 Certes, quod Prudence, if ye wol werke by 
 my conseil, ye shuln not assaye fortune by no 
 way: ne ye ne shuln not lene or bowe unto hire, 
 after the wordes of Senek ; for thinges that ben 
 folily don, and tho that ben don in hope of fortune, 
 shuln never come to good ende. And as the 
 same Senek sayth : The more clere and the more 
 shining that fortune is, the more brotel and the 
 soner broke she is. Trusteth not in hire, for she 
 n'is not stedefast ne stable : for whan thou trow- 
 est to be most siker and seure of hire helpe, she 
 wol faille and deceive thee. And wheras ye 
 sayn, that fortune hath norished you fro youre 
 childhode, I say that in so muchel ye shuln the 
 lesse truste in hire, and in hire wit. For Senek 
 saith : What man that is norished by fortune, she 
 maketh him a gret fool. Now than sin ye desire
 
 128 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 . and axe vengeaunce, and the vengeaunce, that is 
 don after the lawe and before the juge, ne liketh 
 you not, and the vengeaunce, that is don in hope 
 of fortune, is perilous and uncertain, than have ye 
 non other remedie, but for to have your recours 
 unto the soveraine juge, that vengeth alle vi- 
 lanies, and wronges; and he shal venge you, 
 after that himself witnesseth, wheras he saith; 
 Leveth the vengeaunce to me, and I shal do it. 
 
 Melibeus answered: If I ne venge me of the 
 vilanie that men han don to me, I sompne or 
 warne hem, that han don to me vilanie, and alle 
 other, to do me another vilanie. For it is written ; 
 If thou take no vengeaunce of an olde vilany, 
 thou sompnest thin adversaries to do thee a 
 newe vilanie: and also for my suffraunce, men 
 wolden do me so muche vilanie, that I might 
 neither here it ne susteine; and so shulde I ben 
 put and holden over lowe. For som men sain. 
 In muchel suffring shul many thinges falle unto 
 thee, which thou shalt not mowe suftre. 
 
 Certes, quod Prudence, I graunte you wel, 
 that overmuchel suffraunce is not good, but yet 
 ne folweth it not therof, that every persone to 
 whom men don vilanie, shuld take of it ven- 
 geaunce: for that apperteineth and longeth all 
 only to the jiiges, for they shul venge the vi- 
 lanies and injuries: and therfore tho two auc- 
 toritees, that ye han sayd above, ben only un- 
 derstonden in the juges: for whan they suffren 
 overmuchel the wronges and vilanies to be don, 
 withouten punishing, they sompne not a man all 
 only for to do newe wronges, but they com- 
 maunden it: al so as a wise man sayth, that the
 
 THE TALE OF MELIBEUS. 129 
 
 juge that correcteth not the sinner, comniaundeth 
 and biddeth him do sinne. And the jnges and 
 soveraines mighten in hir lond so niuche suffre of 
 the shrewes and misdoers, that they shulden by 
 swiche suffraunce, by proces of time, wexen of 
 swiche power and might, that they shuld pulte 
 out the juges and the soveraines from hir places, 
 and atte laste maken hem lese hir lordshippes. 
 
 But now let us putte, that ye have leve to 
 venge you: I say ye be not of might and power, 
 as now to venge you : for if ye wol maken com- 
 parison unto the might of youre adversaries, ye 
 shuln finde in many thinges, that 1 have shewed 
 you er this, that hir condition is better than youres, 
 and therfore say I, that it is good as now, that ye 
 suffre and be patient. 
 
 Forthermore ye knowen wel, that after the 
 commune saw, it is a woodnesse, a man to strive 
 with a stronger, or a more mighty man than he is 
 himself; and for to strive with a man of even 
 strengthe, that is to say, with as strong a man 
 as he is, it is peril; and for to strive with a 
 weker man, it is folic; and therfore shulde a 
 man flee striving, as muchel as he mighte. For 
 Salomon sayth : It is a gret worship to a man to 
 kepe him fro noise and strif. And if it so happe, 
 that a man of greter mighte and strengthe than 
 thou art, do thee grevaunce: studie and besie 
 thee rather to stille the same gievaunce, than 
 for to venge thee. For Senek sayth, that he 
 putteth him in a grete peril, that striveth with a 
 greter man than he is himself. And Caton 
 sayth; If a man of higher estat or degree, or 
 more mighty than thou, do thee anoye or gre- 
 
 M 2
 
 130 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 vance, suiiie him: for he that ones hath greved 
 thee, may another time releve thee and helpe 
 thee. Yet sette I cas, ye have bothe might and 
 hcence for to yenge you, I say that ther ben ful 
 many thiiiges that shuln restreine you of ven- 
 geance taking, and make you for to encline to 
 suft're, and for to han patience in the wronges 
 that han ben don to you. First and forward, if 
 ye wol considre the defautes that ben in youre 
 owen persona, for which defautes God hath suf- 
 fred you have this tribulation, as I have sayd to 
 you herebeforne. For the Poete sayth, that we 
 oughten patiently taken the tribulations that 
 comen to us, whan that we thinken and con- 
 sideren, that we han deserved to have hem. 
 And Seint Gregorie sayth, that whan a man 
 considereth wel the nombre of his defautes and 
 of his sinnes, the peines and the tribulations that 
 he suffereth, semen the lesse unto him. And in 
 as muche as him thinketh his sinnes more hevy 
 and grevous, in so muche semeth his peine the 
 lighter and the esier unto him. Also ye owen 
 to encline and bowe youre herte, to take the 
 patience of oure Lord Jesu Crist, as sayth Seint 
 Peter in his Epistles. Jesu Crist (he saith) hath 
 suffred for us, and yeven ensample to every man 
 to folwe and sue him, for he dide never sinne, ne 
 never came ther a vilains word out of his mouth. 
 Whan men cursed him, he cursed hem nought; 
 and whan men beten him, he manaced hem 
 nought. Also the gret patience, which Seintes, 
 that ben in Paradis, han had in tribulations that 
 they han suffred, withouten hir desert or gilt, 
 oughte muchel stirre you to patience. Forther-
 
 THE TALE OF MELIBEUS. 131 
 
 more, ye shulde enforce you to have patience, 
 considering that the tribulations of this v/orld but 
 litel while endure, and sone passed ben and gon, 
 and the joye that a man seketh to han by patience 
 in tribulations is perdurable; after that the Apos- 
 tle sayth in his Epistle; the joye of God, he 
 sayth, is perdurable, that is to sayn, everlasting-. 
 Also troweth and beleveth stedfastiy, that he n'is 
 not vvel ynorished ne wel ytaught, that -cannot 
 have patience, or wol not receive patience. For 
 Salomon sayth, that the doctrine and wit of a 
 man is knowen by patience. And in another 
 place he sayeth, that he that is patient, governeth 
 him by gret prudence. And the same Salomon 
 saith: The angrie and Avrathful man maketh 
 noises, and the patient man attempreth and 
 stilleth hem. He saith also, It is more woith 
 to be patient than for to be right strong. And 
 he that may have the lordshipe of his owen 
 herte, is more to preise, than he that by his 
 force or strengthe taketh gret citees. And ther- 
 fore sayth Seint James in his Epistle, that pa- 
 tience is a gret vertue of perfection. 
 
 Certes, quod Melibee, I graunte you, Dame 
 Prudence, that patience is a gret vertue of per- 
 fection, but every man may not have the per- 
 fection that ye seken, ne I am not of the nombre 
 of the right parfit men : for min herte may never 
 be in pees, unto the time it be venged. And 
 al be it so, that it was gret peril to min enemies 
 to do me a vilanie in taking vengeaunce upon 
 me, yet token they non hede of the peril, but 
 fulfiUeden hir wicked will and hir corage : and 
 therfore me thinketh men oughten not repreve
 
 132 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 me, though I put me in a htel peril for to venge 
 me, and though I do a gret excesse, that is to 
 sayn, that I venge on outrage by another. 
 
 A, quod dame Prudence, ye sayn your will 
 and as you liketh; but in no cas of the world a 
 man shulde not don outrage ne excesse, for to 
 vengen him. For Cassiodore sayth, that as evil 
 doth he that vengeth him by outrage, as he that 
 doth the outrage. And therfore ye shuln venge 
 you after the ordre of right, that is to sayn, by 
 the lawe, and not by excesse, ne by outrage. 
 And also if ye wol venge you of the outrage of 
 youre adversaries, in other manere than right 
 commaundeth, ye sinnen. And therfore sayth 
 Senek, that a man shal never venge shrewed- 
 nesse by shrewednesse. And if ye say that 
 right axeth a man to defende violence by vio- 
 lence, and fighting by fighting: certes ye say 
 soth, whan the defence is don withouten inter- 
 valle, or withouten tarying or delay, for to de- 
 fende him, and not for to venge. And it behoveth, 
 that a man putte swiche atteraperaunce in his de- 
 fence, that men have no cause ne mater to re- 
 preve him, that defendeth him, of outrage and 
 excesse, for elles were it againe reson. Parde 
 ye knowen wel, that ye maken no defence as 
 now, for to defende you, but for to venge you : 
 and so sheweth it, that ye han no will to do 
 youre dede attemprely: and therfore me think- 
 eth that patience is good. For Salomon sayth, 
 that he that is not patient, shal have gret harme. 
 
 Certes, quod Melibee, I graunte you, that 
 whan a man is impatient and wrothe of that that 
 toucheth him not, and that apperteiueth not unto
 
 THE TALE OF MELIBEUS. 133 
 
 him, though it harme him it is no wonder. For 
 the lawe saith, that he is coupable that entre- 
 meteth or medleth with swiche thing, as apper- 
 teiaeth not unto him. And Salomon saith, that 
 he that entremeteth of the noise or strit" of ano- 
 ther man, is hke to him that taketh a straunge 
 hound by the eres : for right as he that taketh a 
 straunge hound by the eres is otherwhile bitten 
 with the hound, right in the same wise, it is reson 
 that he have harme, that by his impatience med- 
 leth him of the noise of another man, wheras it 
 apperteineth not unto him. But ye knowe wel, 
 that this dede, that is to sayn, my greef and my 
 disese, toucheth me right nigh. And therfore 
 though I be wroth and impatient, it is no mer- 
 vailie: and (saving your grace) 1 cannot see that 
 it might gretly harme me, though I took ven- 
 geaunce, for T am richer and more mighty than 
 min enemies ben: and wel knowe ye, that by 
 money and by having grete possessions, ben 
 alle thinges of this world governed. And Sa- 
 lomon sayth, that alle thinges obeye to money. 
 
 Whan Prudence had herd hire husbond 
 avaunte him of his richesse and of his money, 
 dispreising the power of his adversaries, she 
 spake and sayd in this wise: Certes, dere Sire, 
 I graunte you that ye ben riche and mighty, and 
 that richesses ben good to hem that han wel 
 ygeten hem, and that wel conne usen hem. For 
 right as the body of a man may not liven with- 
 outen soul, no more may it liven withouten tem- 
 porel goodes, and by richesses may a man gete 
 him grete frendes. And therfore sayth Pam- 
 phihis: If a nctherdes doughter (he sayth) be
 
 134 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 riche, she may chese of a thousand men, which 
 she wol take to hire husbond : for of a thousand 
 men on wol not forsaken hire ne refusen hire. 
 And this Pamphihis saith also: If thou be right 
 happy, that is to sayn, if thou be right riche, thou 
 shalt iinde a gret nombre of felawes and frendes; 
 and if thy fortune chaunge, that thou wexe poure, 
 farewel frendshipe and felawshipe, for thou shalt 
 be al allone withouten any compaignie, but if it 
 be the compaignie of poure folk. And yet sayth 
 this Pamphihis moreover, that they that ben bond 
 and thralle of linage, shuln be made worthy and 
 noble by richesses. And right so as by rich- 
 esses ther comen many goodes, right so by 
 poverte come ther many harmes and eviles: 
 for gret poverte constreineth a man to do many 
 eviles. And therfore clepeth Cassiodore poverte 
 the moder of ruine, that is to sayn, the moder of 
 overthrowing or falling doun. And therfore 
 sayth Piers Alphonse: on of the gretest adver- 
 sitees of this world, is whan a free man by kinde, 
 or of birthe, is constreined by poverte to eten the 
 almesse of his enemie. And the same sayth In- 
 nocent in on of his bookes: he sayth, that sor- 
 weful and mishappy is the condition of a poure 
 beo-oer, for if he axe not his mete, he dieth for 
 hunger, and if he axe, he dieth for shame: and 
 algates necessitee constreineth him to axe. And 
 therfore sayth Salomon, that better it is to die, 
 than for to have swiche poverte. And as the 
 same Salomon sayth: Better it is to die of bitter 
 deth, than for to liven in swiche wise. By thise 
 resons that I have said unto you, and by many 
 other resons that I coude saye, I graunte you
 
 THE TALE OF MELIBEUS. 135 
 
 that lichesses ben good to hem that wel geteu 
 heiu, and to hem that wel usen tho richesses: 
 and therfoie wol I shewe you how ye shuhi be- 
 have you in gadering of youre richesses, and in 
 what maneie ye shuln usen hem. 
 
 First, ye shuln geten hem withouten gret desir, 
 by good leiser, sokingly, and not over hastifiy, 
 for a man that is to desiring to gete richesses, 
 abandoneth him first to thefte and to alle other 
 eviles. And therfore sayth Salomon: He that 
 hasteth him to besily to wexe riche, he shal be 
 non innocent. He sayth also, that the richesse 
 that hastily cometh to a man, sone and lightly 
 goeth and passetli from a man, but that richesse 
 that cometh litel and litel, wexeth alway and 
 multiplieth. And, Sire, ye shulen gete richesses 
 by youre wit and by youre travaille, unto youre 
 profite, and that withouten wrong or harme do- 
 ing to any other persone. For the lawe sayth : 
 Ther maketh no man himself riche, if he do 
 harme to another wight; this is to say, that 
 nature defendeth and forbedeth by right, that no 
 man make himself riche, unto the harme of ano- 
 ther persone. AndTullius sayth, that no sorwe, 
 ne no drede of deth, ne nothing that may falle 
 unto a man, is so muchel ageins nature, as a 
 man to encrese his owen profite, to harme of 
 another man. And though the grete men and 
 the mighty men geten richesses more lightly than 
 thou, yet shalt thou not ben idel ne slowe to do 
 thy profite, for thou shalt in alle wise flee idel- 
 nesse. For Salomon sayth, that idelnesse tech- 
 eth a man to do many eviles. And the same 
 Salomon sayth, that he that travailleth and
 
 136 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 besieth him to tillen his lond, shal ete bred: 
 but he that is idel, and casteth him to no besi- 
 nesse ne occupation, shal falle into poverte, and 
 die for hunger. And he that is idel and slow, 
 can never find covenable time for to do his pro- 
 fite. For ther is a versiHour sayth, that the 
 idel man excuseth him in Winter, because of the 
 grete cold, and in Summer by encheson of the 
 hete. For thise causes, sayth Caton, waketh, 
 and enclineth you not over muchel to slepe, for 
 over muchel reste norisheth and causeth many 
 vices. And therfore sayth Seint Jerome ; Doeth 
 som good dedes, that the devil which is oure 
 enemie, ne finde you not unoccupied, for the 
 devil ne taketh not lightly unto his werking 
 swiche as he findeth occupied in goode werkes. 
 Than thus in geting richesses ye musten flee 
 idelnesse. And afterward ye shuln usen the 
 richesses, which ye han geten by youre wit and . 
 by youre travaille, in swiche manere, that men 
 holde you not to scarce ne to sparing, ne fool- 
 large, that is to say, over large a spender: for 
 right as men blamen an avaricious man, because 
 of his scarcitee and chincherie, in the same wise 
 is he to blame, that spendeth over largely. And 
 therfore saith Caton: Use (sayth he) the rich- 
 esses that thou hast ygeten in swiche manere, 
 that men have no matere ne cause to calle thee 
 nother wretche ne chinche : for it is a gret shame 
 to a man to have a poure herte and a riche purse. 
 He sayth also: the goodes that thou hast ygeten, 
 use hem by mesure, that is to sayn, spende me- 
 surably; for they that folily wasten and dis- 
 penden the goodes that they han, whan they
 
 THE TALE OF MELIBEUS. 137 
 
 han no more propre of hir owen, than they shapen 
 hem to take the goodes of another man. 1 say 
 than that ye shuhi flee avarice, using- youre rich- 
 esses in swiche manere, that men sayn not that 
 your richesses ben yberied, but that ye have hem 
 in youre might, and in youre welding. For a 
 wise man repreveth the avaricious man, and 
 sayth thus in two vers. Wherto and why be- 
 rieth a man his goodes by his gret avarice, and 
 knoweth wel, that nedes must he die, for deth 
 is the end of every man, as in this present Uf ? 
 and for what cause or encheson joineth he him, 
 or knitteth he him so fast unto his goodes, that 
 alle his wittes mown not disseveren him, or de- 
 parten him from his goodes, and knoweth wel, 
 or oughte to knowe, that whan he is ded, he shal 
 nothing bere with hira out of this workl? And 
 therfore sayth Seint Augustine, that the ava- 
 ricious man is likened unto helle, that the more 
 it swalweth, the more desir it hath to swalwe 
 and devoure. And as wel as ye wolde eschue 
 to be called an avaricious man or chinche, as wel 
 shulde ye kepe you and governe you in swiche a 
 wise, that men calle you not fool-large. Ther- 
 fore saith TuUius : The goodes of thin hous ne 
 shulde not ben hid ne kept so close, but that 
 they might ben opened by pitee and debonairetee ; 
 that is to sayn, to yeve hem part that han gret 
 nede; ne thy goodes shulden not ben so open, 
 to be every mannes goodes. Afterward, in get- 
 ing of youre richesses, and in using of hem, ye 
 shuln alway have three thinges in youre herte, 
 that is to say, oure Lord God, conscience, 
 and good name. First, ye shidn have God in 
 VOL. II. N
 
 138 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 youre herte, and for no richesse ye shuln do no 
 thing, which may in any manere displese Goii 
 that is your creatour and maker. For after 
 the word of Salomon, it is better to have a litel 
 good with love of God, than to have muchel 
 good, and lese the love of his Lord God. And 
 the Prophete sayth, That better it is to ben a 
 good man, and have litel good and tresor, than 
 to be holden a shrewe, and have grete richesses. 
 And yet I say forthermore, that ye shulden 
 alway do youre besinesse to gete you richesses, 
 so that ye gete hem with good conscience. And 
 the Apostle sayth, that ther n'is thing in this 
 world of which we shulden have so gret joye, as 
 whan oure conscience bereth us good witnesse. 
 And the wise man sayth: The substaunce of a 
 man is ful good, whan sinne is not in mannes 
 conscience. Afterward, in geting of youre rich- 
 esses, and in using of hem, ye must have gret 
 besinesse and gret diligence, that youre good 
 name be alway kept and conserved. For Sa- 
 lomon sayth, that beter it is, and more it availeth 
 a man to have a good name, than for to have 
 gTete richesses: and therfore he sayth iu another 
 place : Do grete diligence (saith Salomon) in 
 keping of thy frendes, and of thy good name, for 
 it shal lenger abide with thee, than any tresor, 
 be it never so precious. And certes, he shulde 
 not be called a Gentilman, that after God and 
 good conscience, alle thinges left, ne doth his 
 diligence and besinesse, to kepen his good name. 
 And Cassiodore sayth, that it is a signe of a 
 gentil herte, whan a man loveth and desireth to 
 have a good name. And therfore sayth Seint
 
 THE TALE OF MELIBEUS. 130 
 
 Augustine, that ther ben two thinges that arn 
 right necessarie and nedeful; and that is good 
 consience, and good los; that is to sayn, good 
 conscience to thin owen persone inward, and 
 good los for thy neighebour outward. And he 
 that trosteth him so muchel in his good con- 
 science, that he despiseth and setteth at nought 
 his good name or los, and recketh not though he 
 kepe not his good name, n'is but a cruel cherl. 
 
 Sire, now have I shewed you how ye shulden 
 do in geting richesses, and how ye shuln usen 
 hem: and I see wel that for the trust that ye 
 han in youre richesses, ye wiln meve werre and 
 bataille. I conseille you that ye beginne no 
 bataille ne werre, in trust of youre richesses, for 
 they ne sufficen not werres to mainteine. And 
 therfore sayth a Philosophre: That man that 
 desireth and wol algates han werre, shal never 
 have suffisaunce: for the richer that he is, the 
 greter dispences must he make,, if he wol have 
 worship and victorie. And Salomon saith, that 
 the greter richesses that a man hath, the mo dis- 
 pendours he hath. And, dere Sire, al be it so, 
 that for your richesses ye moun have muchel 
 folk, yet behoveth it not, ne it is not good to 
 beginne werre, wheras ye moun in other manere 
 have pees, unto youre worship and profite: for 
 the victorie of batailles that ben in this world, 
 lith not in gret nombre or multitude of peple, ne 
 in the vertue of man, but it lith in the will and 
 in the bond of oure Lord God almighty. And 
 therfore Judas Machabeus, which was Goddes 
 knight, whan he shulde hghte again his adver- 
 sarie, that hadde a greter nombie and a greter
 
 140 CANTERBURY TALES, 
 
 multitude of folk, and strenger than was the 
 peple of this Machabee, yet he recomforted his 
 litel compaignie, and sayde right in this wise: 
 Al so lightly (sayde he) may our Lord God 
 almighty yeve victorie to a fewe folk, as to 
 many folk; for the victorie of a bataillc cometh 
 not by the gret nombre of peple, but it comelh 
 from oure Lord God of heven. And, dere Sire, 
 for as muchel as ther is no man certaine, if it be 
 worthy that God yeve him victorie or not, after 
 that Salomon sayth, therfore every man shulde 
 gretly drede werres to beginne: and because 
 that in batailles fallen many perils, and it hap- 
 peth other ^vhile, that as sone is the gret man 
 slain, as the litel man; and, as it is ywritten in 
 the second book of Kinges, the dedes of ba- 
 tailles ben aventurous, and nothing certain, for 
 as lightly is on hurt with a spere as another; 
 and for ther is gret peril in werre ; therfore shulde 
 a man flee and eschue werre in as muchel as a 
 man may goodly. For Salomon sayth : He that 
 loveth peril, shal falle in ])eril. 
 
 After that dame Prudence had spoken in this 
 manere, Melibee answerd and saide: I see wel, 
 dame Prudence, that by youre faire wordes and 
 by youre resons, that ye han shewed me, that 
 the werre liketh you nothing: but I have not yet 
 herd your conseil, how I shal do in this nede. 
 
 Certes, quod she, I conseille you that ye ac- 
 corde with youre adversaries, and that ye have 
 pees with hem. For Seint James sayth in his 
 Epistle, that by Concorde and pees, the smale 
 richesses wexen grete, and by debat and dis- 
 corde grete richesses fallen doun. And ye
 
 THE TALE OF MELIBEUS. 141 
 
 knowen wel, that on of the gretest and moste 
 soveraine thing, that is in this world, is unitee 
 and pees. And therfore sayde oure Lord Jesu 
 Crist to his Apostles in this wise: Wei happy 
 and blessed ben they that loven and purehaseu 
 pees, for they ben called the children of God. 
 A, quod Melibee, now see I wel, that ye loven 
 not min honour, ne my worshipe. Ye knowen 
 wel that min adversaries han begonne this debat 
 and brige by hir outrage, and ye see wel, that 
 they ne requeren ne prayen me not of pees, ne 
 they axen not to be reconciled; wol ye than that 
 I go and nieke me, and obeye me to hem, and 
 crie hem mercie? Forsoth that were not my 
 worshipe: for right as men sayn, that overgret 
 homlinesse engendreth dispreising, so fareth it 
 by to gret humilitee or mekenesse. 
 
 Than began dame Prudence to make sem- 
 blaunt of wrathe, and sayde: Certes, Sire, (sauf 
 your grace) I love youre honour and youre pro- 
 fite, as I do min owen, and ever have don; ye, 
 ne non other seyn never the contrary: and iif I 
 had sayde, that ye shulde han purchased the 
 pees and the reconciliation, I ne hadde not 
 muchel mistake me, ne sayde amis. For the 
 Wise man sayth; The dissention beginneth by 
 another man, and the reconciling beginneth by 
 thyself. And the Prophete saith: Flee shrewed- 
 nesse and do goodnesse; seke pees and folwe 
 it, in as muchel as in thee is. Yet say I not, 
 that ye shuln rather pursue to youre adversaries 
 for pees, than they shuln to you: for I know 
 wel that ye ben so hard-herted, that ye wol do 
 nothing for me; and Salomon sayth: he that 
 
 N 2
 
 142 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 hath over hard an herte, atte laste he shal mis- 
 happe and mistide. 
 
 Whan MeUbee had herd darae Prudence make 
 semblaunt of wrath, he sayde in this wise. Dame, 
 I pray you that ye be not displesed of thinges 
 that I say, for I knowe wel that T am angry 
 and wroth, and that is no wonder; and they that 
 ben wroth, woten not wel what they don, ne 
 what they sayn. Therfore the Prophete sayth, 
 that troubled even han no clere sighte. But 
 sayth and conseilleth me as you Hketh, for T am 
 redy to do right as ye wol desire. And if ye 
 repreve me of my fohe, I am the more hohlen to 
 love you and to preise you. For Salomon saith, 
 that he that repreveth him that doth folie, he shal 
 find greter grace, than he that deceiveth him by 
 swete wordes. 
 
 Than sayde Dame Prudence; I make no sem- 
 blaunt of wrath ne of anger, but for youre grete 
 profite. For Salomon saith: he is more worth, 
 that repreveth or chideth a fool for his folie, 
 shewing him semblaunt of wrath, than he that 
 supporteth him and preiseth him in his misdoing, 
 and laugheth at his folie. And this same Salo- 
 mon saith afterward, that by the sorweful visage 
 of a man, that is to sayn, by the sory and hevy 
 countenance of a man, the fool correcteth and 
 amendeth himself. 
 
 Than said Melibee; I shal not conne answers 
 unto so many faire resons as ye putten to me 
 and shewen : sayth shortly youre will and youre 
 conseil, and I am al redy to performe and ful- 
 fille it. 
 
 Than Dame Prudence discovered all hire will
 
 THE TALE OF MELIBEUS. 143 
 
 unto him and saide: I conseille you, quod she, 
 above al!e thhiges that ye make pees betwene 
 G od and you, and be reconciled unto him and to 
 his grace, for as I have sayde you herebeforen, 
 God hath suffered you to have this tribulation 
 and disese for youre sinnes : and if ye do as I 
 say you, God wol sende youre adversaries unto 
 you, and make hem falle at youre feet, redy to 
 do youre will and youre commaundements. For 
 Salomon sayth; whan the condition of man is 
 plesaunt and liking to God, he chaungeth the 
 hertes of the mannes adversaries, and con- 
 streineth hem to besechen him of pees and of 
 grace. And I pray you let me speke with your 
 adversaries in privee place, for they shuln not 
 knowe that it be of youre will or youre assent; 
 and than, whan I knowe hir will and hir entente, 
 I may conseille you the more seurely. 
 
 Dame, quod Melibeus, doth youre will and 
 youre liking, for I putte me holly in youre dis- 
 position and ordinaunce. 
 
 Than Dame Prudence, when she sey the good 
 will of hire husbond, delibered unto hire, and 
 toke avis in hire self, thinking how she might 
 bring this nede unto goode ende. And whan 
 she sey hire time, she sent for thise adver- 
 saries to come unto hire in to a privee place, 
 and shewed wisely unto hem the grete goodes 
 that comen of pees, and the grete harmes and 
 perils that ben in werre; and saide to hem, in a 
 goodly manere, how that hem oughte have gret 
 repentaunce of the injuries and wronges, that 
 they hadden don to Melibeus hire lord, and unto 
 hire and to hire doughter. 
 
 And whan they herden the goodly wordes of
 
 144 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 Dame Prudence, they weren so surprised and 
 
 ravished, and hadden so gret joye of hire, that 
 
 wonder was to telle. A, lady, quod they, ye 
 
 have shewed unto us the blessing of swetenesse, 
 
 after the saying of David the Prophete; for the 
 
 reconciling, which we be not worthy to have in 
 
 no manere, but we oughten requeren it v/ith 
 
 grete contrition and humilitee, ye of youre grete 
 
 goodnesse have presented unto us. Now see 
 
 we wel, that the science and conning of Salomon 
 
 is ful trewe; for he saith, that swete wordes mul- 
 
 tiplien and encresen frendes, and maken shrewes 
 
 to be debonaire and meke. 
 
 Certes, quod they, we putten oure dede, and 
 all oure matere and cause, al holly in youre good 
 will, and ben redy to obeye unto the speche and 
 commaundement of my lord ftlelibeus. And 
 therfore, dere and benigne lady, we praye you 
 and beseche you as mekely as we conne and 
 moun, that it like unto youre grete goodnesse to 
 fulfille in dede youre goodly wordes. For we 
 consideren and knowelechen, that we ban of- 
 fended and greved my lord Melibeus out of me- 
 sure, so fer forth, that we ben not of power to 
 maken him amendes; and therfore we oblige and 
 binde us and oure frendes, for to do all his will 
 and his comraaundements : but peraventure he 
 hath swiche hevinesse and swiche wrath to us 
 ward, because of oure offence, that he wol en- 
 joynen us swiche a peine, as we moun not bere 
 ne susteine; and therfore, noble ladie, we be- 
 seche to youre womanly pittee to take swiche 
 avisement in this nede, that we, ne oure frendes, 
 ben not disherited and destroied, thurgh oure 
 folie.
 
 THE TALE OF MELIBEUS. 145 
 
 Certes, quod Prudence, it is aff hard thing and 
 right perilous, that a man putte him all outrely 
 in the arbitration and jugement, and in the might 
 and power of his enemie; for Salomon saytli: 
 leveth me, and yeveth credence to that that I shall 
 say: to thy sone, to thy wif, to thy frend, ne to 
 thy brother, ne yeve thou never might ne mais- 
 trie over thy body, while thou livest. Now, 
 sith he defendeth that a man shulde not yeve to 
 his brother, ne to his frend, the might of his 
 body, by a strenger reson he defendeth and for- 
 bedeth a man to yeve himself to his enemy. 
 And natheles, I conseille you that ye mistruste 
 not my lord: for 1 wot wel and know veraily, 
 that he is debonaire and meke, laige, curteis, 
 and nothing desirous ne coveitous of good ne 
 richesse: for ther is nothing in this world that 
 he desireth, save only worshipe and honour. 
 Forthermore I know wel, and am right sure, 
 that he shal nothing do in this nede withouten 
 my conseil; and I shal so werken in this cas, 
 that by the grace of oure Lord God ye shuln be 
 reconciled unto us. 
 
 Than saiden they with o vois; worshipful 
 lady, we putten us and oure goodes al fully in 
 youre will and disposition, and ben redy to come, 
 what day that it like unto youre noblesse to 
 liraite us or assigne us, for to make oure obliga- 
 tion and bond, as strong as it liketh unto youre 
 goodnesse, that we moun fulfille the will of you 
 and of my lord Melibee. 
 
 \^lian Dame Prudence had herd the answer of 
 thise men, she bad hem go agein prively, and she 
 retourned to hire lord Melibee, and told him
 
 143 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 how she fond his adversaries ful repentaunt, 
 kuowleching ful lowly hir sinnes and trespas, 
 and how they weren redy to sufFren all peine, 
 requering and preying him of mercy and pitee. 
 
 Than saide Melibee; he is wel worthy to 
 have pardon and foryevenesse of his sinne, that 
 excuseth not his sinne, but knowlecheth, and re- 
 penteth him, axing indulgence. For Senek saith; 
 ther is the remission and foryevenesse, wher as 
 the confession is; for confession is neighebour 
 to innocence. And therefore I assente and con- 
 ferme me to have pees, but it is good that we do 
 nought withouten the assent and will of oure 
 frendes. 
 
 Than was Prudence right glad and joyeful, 
 and saide; certes, sire, ye han wel and goodly 
 answered: for right as by the conseil, assent, 
 and heipe of your frendes, ye han be stired to 
 venge you and make werre, right so withouten 
 hir conseil shul ye not accord you, ne have pees 
 with youre adversaries. For the lawe saith : 
 ther is nothing so good by way of kinde, as a 
 thing to be unbounde by him that it was ybounde. 
 
 And than Dame Prudence, withouten delay 
 or tarying, sent anon hire messageres for hir kin 
 and for hir olde frendes, which that were trewe 
 and wise: and told hem by ordre, in the pre- 
 sence of Melibee, all the matere, as it is above 
 expressed and declared; and preied hem that 
 they wold yeve hir avis and conseil, what were 
 best to do in this nede. And whan Melibeus 
 frendes hadden taken hir avis and deliberation 
 of the foresaid matere, and hadden examined it 
 by gret besinesse and gret diligence, they yaven
 
 THE TALE OF MELIBEUS. 147 
 
 ful conseil for to have pees and reste, and that 
 MeUbee shulde receive with good herte his ad- 
 versaries to Ibryevenesse and mercy. 
 
 And whan dame Prudence had herd the as- 
 sent of hire lord Melibee, and the conseil of his 
 frendes, accord with hire will and hire entention, 
 she was wonder glad in hire herte, and sayde : 
 ther is an olde Proverbe, quod she, sayth, that 
 the gooduesse that thou maist do this day, do it, 
 and abide not, ne delay it not til to morwe : and 
 therfore I conseille, that ye sende youre messa- 
 geres, swiche as ben discrete and wise, unto 
 youre adversaries, telling hem on youre behalf, 
 that if they wol trete of pees and of accord, that 
 they shape hem, withouten delay or tarying, to 
 come unto us. Which thing parfourmed was 
 indede. And whan thise trespasours and re- 
 penting folk of hir folies, that is to sayn, the ad- 
 versaries of Melibee, hadden herd what thise 
 messageres sayden unto hem, they weren right 
 glade and joyeful, and answerden ful mekely and 
 benignely, yelding graces and thankinges to hir 
 lord Melibee, and to all his compagnie: and 
 shopen hem withouten delay to go with the mes- 
 sageres, and obeye to the commaundement of 
 hir lord Melibee. 
 
 And right anon they token hir way to the 
 court of Melibee, and token with hem som of hir 
 trewe frendes, to make feith for hem, and for to 
 ben hir borwes. And whan they were comen 
 to the presence of Melibee, he saide hem thise 
 wordes: it stant thus, quod Melibee, and soth it 
 is, that ye causeles, and withouten skill and 
 reson, han don grete injuries and wronges to me,
 
 148 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 and to my wif Prudence, and to my doughter 
 also, for ye han entred into myn hous by vio- 
 lence, and have don swiclie outrage, that alle 
 men knowen wel that ye han deserved the deth : 
 and iherfore wol 1 know and wete of you, whe- 
 ther ye wol putte the punishing and chastising, 
 and the vengeaunce of this outrage, in the will of 
 me and of my wif, or ye wol not. 
 
 Than the wisest of hem three answered for 
 hem alle, and saide. Sire, quod he, we knowen 
 wel, that we ben unworthy to come to the court 
 of so gret a lord and so worthy as ye ben, for 
 we han so gretly mistaken us, and han offended 
 and agilte in swiche wise agein youre high lord- 
 shipe, that trewely we han deserved the deth; 
 but yet for the grete goodnesse and debonairetee, 
 that all the world witnesseth of youre persone, 
 we subraitten us to the excellence and benignitee 
 of youre gracious lordshipe, and ben redy to 
 obeye to alle youre comandements, beseching 
 you, that of youre merciable pitee ye wol consi- 
 dere cure grete repentance and lowe submission, 
 and graunte us foryevenesse of oure outragious 
 trespas and offence: for wel we knowen, that 
 youre liberal grace and mercie stretchen hem 
 forther into goodnesse, than don oure outragious 
 giltes and trespas into wickednesse; al be it 
 that cursedly and dampnably we han agilte 
 again youre highe lordshipe. 
 
 Than Melibee toke hem up fro the ground ful 
 benignely, and received hir obligations, and hir 
 bondes, by hir othes upon hir plegges and borwes, 
 and assigned hem a certain day to retourne unto 
 his court for to receive and accept sentence and
 
 THE TALE OF MELIBEUS. 149 
 
 jugement, that Melibee wolde commande to be 
 don on hem, by the causes aforesaid; which 
 thinges ordeined, every man retouvned to his 
 hous. 
 
 And whan that Dame Prudence saw hire 
 time, she freined and axed hire lord Melibee, 
 what vengeance he thoughte to taken of his ad- 
 versaries. 
 
 To which Melibee answerd, and saide: certes, 
 quod he, I thinke and purpose me fully to dis- 
 herite hem of all that ever they han, and for to 
 putte hem in exile for ever. 
 
 Certes, quod Dame Prudence, this were a 
 cruel sentence, and muchel agein reson. For 
 ye ben riche ynough, and han no nede of other 
 mennes good; and ye might lightly in this wise 
 gete you a coveitous name, which is a vicious 
 thing, and oughte to ben eschewed of every good 
 man : for after the sawe of the Apostle, coveitise 
 is rote of alle harraes. And therfore it were 
 better for you to lese muchel good of your owen, 
 than for to take of hir good in this manere. For 
 better it is to lese good with worship, than to 
 winne good with vilanie and shame. And every 
 man oughte to do his diligence and his besinesse, 
 to gete him a good name. And yet shal he not 
 only besie him in keping his good name, but he 
 shal also enforcen him alway to do som thing, 
 by which he may renovelle his good name; for 
 it is written, that the olde good los, or good 
 name, of a man is sone gon and passed, whan 
 it is not newed. And as touching that ye sayn, 
 that ye wol exile your adversaries, that thinketh 
 me muchel ageia reson, and out of mesure, con- 
 
 VOL. II. o
 
 150 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 sidered the power that they han yeven you upon 
 hemself. And it is written, that he is worthy to 
 lese his privilege, that misuseth the might and 
 the power that is yeven him. And I sette 
 cas, ye might enjoine hem that peine by right 
 and by lawe, (which I trowe ye mowe not do) 
 I say, ye might not putte it to execution pera- 
 venture, and than it were like to retourne to 
 the werre, as it was beforn. And therfore if 
 ye wol that men do you obeisaunce, ye must 
 deme more curteisly, that is to sayn, ye must 
 yeve more esie sentences and jugements. For 
 it is written : he that most curteisly commandeth, 
 to him men most obeyen. And therfore 1 pray 
 you, that in this necessitee and in this nede ye 
 caste you to overcome youre herte. For Senek 
 sayth, that he that overcometh his herte, over- 
 cometh twies. And TuUius saith: ther is no- 
 thing so commendable in a gret lord, as whan 
 he is debonaire and meke, and appeseth him 
 lightly. And I pray you, that ye wol now for- 
 bere to do vengeaunce, in swiche a manere, that 
 your good name may be kept and conserved, 
 and that men mown have cause and matere to 
 preise you of pitee and of mercy; and that ye 
 have no cause to repente you of thing that ye 
 don. For Seneke saieth: he overcometh in an 
 evil manere, that repenteth him of his victorie. 
 Wherfore T pray you let mercy be in youre 
 herte, to the eft'ect and entente, that God al- 
 mighty have mercy upon you in his last juge- 
 ment: for seint James saith in his Epistle: juge- 
 ment withoute mercy shal he do to him, that hath 
 no mercy of another wight.
 
 THE TALE OF MELIBEUS. 151 
 
 Whan Melibee had herd the grete skilles and 
 lesons of dame Prudence, and hire wise informa- 
 tions and techinges, his herte gan eneline to the 
 will of his wif, considering hire trewe entente, 
 enforced him anon and assented fully to werken 
 after hire conseil, and thanked God, of whom 
 procedeth all goodnesse and all vertue, that him 
 sent a wif of so gret discretion. And vvhau 
 the day came that his adversaries shulde appere 
 in his presence, he spake to hem ful goodly, and 
 saide in this wise. Al be it so, that of youre 
 pride and high presumption and folie, and of 
 youre negligence and unconning, ye have mis- 
 borne you, and trespased unto me, yet for as 
 muchel as I see and behold youre grete humi- 
 litee, and that ye ben sory and repentant of 
 youre giltes, it constreineth me to do you grace 
 and mercy: wherfore I receive you into my 
 grace, and foryeve you outrely alie the offences, 
 injuries, and wronges, that ye have don agein 
 me and mine, to this effect and to this ende, that 
 God of his endeles mercie wol at the time of 
 oure dying foryeve us oure giltes, that we han 
 trespased to him in this wretched world: for 
 douteles, if we be sory and repentant of the 
 sinnes and giltes, which we han trespased in the 
 sight of oure Lord God, he is so free and so 
 merciable, that he wol foryeven us oure giltes, 
 and bringen us to the blisse that never hath 
 ende. Amen.
 
 152 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 THE MONKES PROLOGUE. 
 
 Whan ended was my tale of Melibee, 
 And of Prudence and hire benignitee, 
 Our hoste saide; as I am faithful man, 
 And by the precious corpus Madrian, 
 I hadde lever than a barell of ale. 
 That goode lefe my wif had herde this tale : 
 For she n'is no thing of swiche patience, 
 As was this Melibeus wif Prudence. 
 
 By Goddes bones, whan I bete my knaves. 
 She bringeth me the grete clobbed staves. 
 And cryeth; slee the dogges everich on, 
 And breke hem bothe bak and every bon. 
 
 And if that any neighebour of mine 
 Wol not in chirche to my wif encline. 
 Or be so hardy to hire to trespace, 
 Whan she cometh home she rampeth in my face. 
 And cryeth; false coward, wreke thy wif: 
 By corpus Domini, I wol have thy knif. 
 And thou shalt have my distaf, and go spinne. 
 Fro day til night right thus she wol beginne. 
 
 Alas, she saith, that ever I was yshape 
 To Aved a milksop, or a coward ape, 
 That wol ben overladde with every wight ! 
 Thou darst not stonden by thy wives right. 
 
 This is my lif, but if that I wol fight, 
 And out at dore anon I mote me dight, 
 Or elles I am lost, but if that 1 
 Be like a wilde leon, fool-hardy. 
 
 I wote wel she wol do me slee som day 
 Som neighebour, and thanne go my way. 
 For I am perilous with knif in honde, 
 Al be it that I dare not hire withstonde :
 
 THE MONKES PROLOGUE. 153 
 
 For she is bigge iii arraes by my faith, 
 
 That shal he rinde, that hire misdoth or saith. 
 
 But let us passe away fro this matere. 
 
 My lord the Monk, quod he, be mery of chere. 
 
 For ye shul telle a tale trewely. 
 
 Lo, Rouchester stondeth here faste by. 
 
 Ride forth, min owen lord, breke not our game. 
 
 But by my trouthe I can not telle youre name; 
 
 Whether shal I call you my lord Dan John, 
 
 Or Dan Thomas, or elles Dan Albon? 
 
 Of what hous be ye, by your fader kin? 
 
 I vow to God, thou hast a ful faire skin; 
 
 It is a gentil pasture ther thou gost; 
 
 Thou art not like a penaunt or a gost. 
 Upon my faith thou art som officer, 
 
 Som M^orthy sextein, or som celerer. 
 
 For by my fadres soule, as to my dome, 
 
 Thou art a maister, whan thou art at home ; 
 
 No poure cloisterer, ne non novice. 
 
 But a governour bothe ware and wise, 
 And therwithal of braunes and of bones 
 A right wel faring persone for the nones. 
 I pray to God yeve him confusion. 
 That first thee brought into religion. 
 Thou woldest han ben a trede-foul a right, 
 Haddest thou as grete leve, as thou hast might. 
 To parfourme all thy lust in engendrure. 
 Thou haddest begeten many a creature. 
 Alas! why werest thou so wide a cope? 
 God yeve me sorwe, but, and I were pope. 
 Not only thou but every mighty man. 
 Though he were shore ful high upon his pan, 
 Shuld have a wif, for al this world is lorn ; 
 Religion hath take up all the corn 
 
 o 2
 
 154 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 Of treding, and we borel men ben shrimpes : 
 Of feble trees ther comen wretched impes. 
 This maketh that our heires ben so sclendre 
 And feble, that they moun not wel engendre. 
 This maketh that our wives wol assaye 
 Rehgious folk, for they moun better paye 
 Of Venus payementes than mowen we: 
 God wote, no lussheburghes payen ye. 
 But be not wroth, my lord, though that I play; 
 Ful oft in game a sothe have I herd say. 
 
 This worthy Monke toke all in patience, 
 And saide; I wol don all my diligence, 
 As fer as souneth into honestee, 
 To tellen you a tale, or two or three. 
 And if yoij list to herken hiderward, 
 I wol you sayn the lif of Seint Edward; 
 Or elles tragedies first I wol telle. 
 Of which I have an hundred in my celle. 
 
 Tragedie is to sayn a certain storie, 
 As olde bookes maken us memorie, 
 Of him that stood in gret prosperitee. 
 And is yfallen out of high degree 
 In to miserie, and endeth wretchedly. 
 And they ben versified communly 
 Of six feet, which men clepen exametron : 
 In prose eke ben endited many on. 
 And eke in metre, in many a sondry wise. 
 Lo, this declaring ought ynough suffice. 
 
 Now herkeneth, if you liketh for to here. 
 But first I you beseche in this matere, 
 Though I by ordre telle not thise thinges. 
 Be it of popes, emperoures, or kinges. 
 After hir ages, as men written finde. 
 But telle hem som before and som behinde. 
 As it now Cometh to my remembrance. 
 Have me excused of min ignorance.
 
 155 
 
 THE MONKES TALE. 
 
 I WOL bewaile in manere of tragedie 
 
 The harm of hem, that stode in high degree. 
 
 And fellen so, that ther n'as no remedie 
 
 To bring hem out of hir adversitee. 
 
 For certain whan that fortune list to flee, 
 
 Ther may no man of hire the cours withhokle : 
 
 Let no man trust on blinde prospeiitee; 
 
 Beth ware by thise ensamples trewe and olde. 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 At Lucifer, though he an angel were 
 And not a man, at him I wol beginne. 
 For though fortune may non angel dere. 
 From high degree yet fell he for his sinne 
 Doun into helle, wheras he yet is inne. 
 O Lucifer, brightest of angels alle, 
 Now art thou Sathanas, that maist not twinne 
 Out of miserie, in which that thou art falle. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Lo Adam, in the feld of Damascene 
 With Goddes owen finger wrought was he. 
 And not begeten of mannes sperme uncleixe. 
 And welte all Paradis saving o tree: 
 Had never worldly man so high degree 
 As Adam, til he for misgovernance 
 Was driven out of his prosperitee 
 To labour, and to helle, and to meschance. 
 
 SAMPSON. 
 
 Lo Sampson, which that was annunciat 
 By the angel, long or his nativitee :
 
 156 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 And was to God Almighty consecrat, 
 
 And stode in noblesse while he mighte see: 
 
 Was never swiche another as was he, 
 
 To speke of strength, and therto hardinesse : 
 
 But to his wives tolde he his secree, 
 
 Thurgh which he slow himself for wretchednesse. 
 
 Sampson, this noble and mighty champion, 
 Withouten wepen, save his handes twey. 
 He slow and all to-rente the leon, 
 Toward his wedding walking by the wey: 
 His false wif coude him so plese, and pray. 
 Til she his conseil knewe; and she untrewe 
 Unto his foos his conseil gan bewray. 
 And him forsoke, and toke another newe. 
 
 Three hundred foxes toke Sampson for ire. 
 And all hir tajdes he togeder bond: 
 And set the foxes tayles all on fire. 
 For he in every tayl had knit a brond. 
 And they brent all the cornes in that lond, 
 And all hir oliveres, and vines eke. 
 A thousand men he slow eke with his hond, 
 And had no wepen, but an asses cheke. 
 
 Whan they were slain, so thursted him, that he 
 Was wel nie lorne, for which he gan to preye. 
 That God wold on his peine han som pitee. 
 And send him drinke, or elles raoste he deye: 
 And of this asses cheke, that was so dreye. 
 Out of a wang toth sprang anon a welle. 
 Of which he drauke ynough, shortly to seye. 
 Thus halp him God, as Judicum can telle. 
 
 By veray force at Gasa on a night, 
 Maugre the Philistins of that citee. 
 The gates of the toun he hath up plight. 
 And on his bak ycaried hem hath he
 
 THE MONKES TALE. 157 
 
 High on an hill, wher as men might hem se. 
 O noble mighty Sampson, lefe and dere, 
 Haddest thou not told to women thy secree. 
 In all this world ne had ther ben thy pere. 
 
 This Sampson never sider drank ne wine, 
 Ne on his hed came rasour non ne shere, 
 By precept ot" the messager divine, 
 For all his strengthes in his heres were : 
 And fully twenty winter yere by yere 
 He hadde of Israel the governance : 
 But sone shal he wepen many a tere, 
 For women shuln him bringen to meschance. 
 
 Unto his lemman Dalida he told, 
 That in his heres all his strengthe lay. 
 And falsely to his fomen she him sold ; 
 And sleping in hire barme upon a day 
 She made to clip or shere his here away, 
 And made his fomen all his craft espien; 
 And whan that they him fond in this array. 
 They bond him fast, and putten out his eyen. 
 
 But or his here was clipped or yshave, 
 Ther was no bond, with which men might him 
 But now is he in prison in a cave, [bind, 
 
 Wheras they made him at the querne grinde. 
 O noble Sampson, strongest of mankind, 
 O whilom juge in glory and richesse, 
 Now mayest thou wepen with thin eyen blind, 
 Sith thou fro wele art falle in wretchednesse. 
 
 The ende of this caitif was, as I shal seye: 
 His fomen made a feste upon a day, 
 And made him as hir fool before hem pleye; 
 And this was in a temple of gret array.
 
 158 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 But at the last he made a foule aifray, 
 For he two pillers shoke, and made hem falle. 
 And douu fell temple and all, and ther it lay. 
 And slow himself, and eke his fomen alle. 
 
 This is to say n, the princes everich on, 
 And eke three thousand bodies were ther slain 
 With falling of the gret temple of ston. 
 Of Sampson now wol I no more sain: 
 Beth ware by this ensample old and plain. 
 That no inen tell hir conseil to hir wives 
 Of swiche thing, as they wold han secree fain, 
 If that it touch hir limmes or hir lives. 
 
 HERCULES. 
 
 Of Hercules the soveraine conquerour 
 Singen his werkes laude, and high renoun; 
 For in his time of strength he was the flour. 
 He slow and raft the skinne of the leon; 
 He of Centaures laid the bost adoun ; 
 He Harpies slow, the cruel briddes felle ; 
 He golden apples raft fro the dragon; 
 He drow out Cerberus the hound of helle. 
 
 He slow the cruel tirant Busirus, 
 And made his hors to fret him flesh and bon ; 
 He slow the firy serpent venemous ; 
 Of Achelous two homes brake he on. 
 And he slow Cacus in a cave of ston ; 
 He slow the geaunt Anteus the strong; 
 He slow the grisely bore, and that anon; 
 And bare the hevene on his nekke long. 
 
 Was never wight sith that the world began. 
 That slow so many monstres, as did he; 
 Thurghout the wide world his name ran. 
 What for his strength, and for his high bountee;
 
 THE MONKES TALE. 1&9 
 
 And every reaume went he for to see, 
 He was so strong that no man might him let; 
 At bothe the worldes endes, saith Trophee, 
 In stede of boundes he a piller set. 
 
 A lemman had this noble champion. 
 That highte Deianire, as fresh as May; 
 And as thise clerkes maken mention, 
 She hath him sent a sherte fresh and gay : 
 Alas ! this sherte, alas and wala wa ! 
 Eveniined was sotilly withalle, 
 That or that he had wered it half a day. 
 It made his flesh ail from his bones falle. 
 
 But natheles som clerkes hire excusen 
 By on, that highte Nessus, that it maked; 
 Be as may be, I wol hire not accusen; 
 But on his bak this sherte he wered al naked. 
 Til that his flesh was for the venim blaked : 
 And whan he saw non other remedie; 
 In bote coles he hath hiniselven raked, 
 For with no venime deigned him to die. 
 
 Thus starf this worthy mighty Hercules, 
 Lo, who may trust on fortune any throw? 
 For him that folweth all this world of pres, 
 Or he be ware, is oft ylaid ful lowe : 
 Ful wise is he, that can hiniselven knowe. 
 Beth ware, for whan that fortune list to glose^ 
 Than waiteth she hire man to overthrowe 
 By swiche a way, as he M'old lest suppose. 
 
 NABUCHODONOSOR. 
 
 The mighty trone, the precious tresor. 
 The glorious sceptre, and real majestee.
 
 160 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 That haclde the king Nabuchodonosor, 
 
 With tonge iiniiethes may dcscrived be. 
 
 He twies wan Jerusalem the citee, 
 
 The vessell of the temple he with him ladde; 
 
 At Babiloine was his soveraine see, 
 
 In which his glorie and his delit he hadde. 
 
 The fayrest children of the blood real 
 Of Israel he did do gelde anon, 
 And maked eche of hem to ben his thral. 
 Amonges other Daniel was on, 
 That was the wisest child of everich on; 
 For he the dremes of the king expouned, 
 Wher as in Caldee clerk ne was ther non. 
 That wiste to what fin his dremes souned. 
 
 This proude king let make a statue of gold 
 Sixty cubites long, and seven in brede. 
 To which image bothe yonge and old 
 Commanded he to loute, and have in drede, 
 Or in a fourneis, ful of flames rede, 
 He shuld be brent, that wolde not obeye: 
 But never wold assenten to that dede 
 Daniel, ne his yonge felawes tweye. 
 
 This king of kinges proud was and elatj 
 He wend that God, that sit in majestee, 
 'Ne might him nat bereve of his estat: 
 But sodenly he lost his dignitee. 
 And like a best hira semed for to be. 
 And ete hey as an oxe, and lay therout: 
 In rain with wilde bestes walked he. 
 Til certain time was ycome about. 
 
 And like au egles fethers wex his heres. 
 His neyles like a bviddes clawes were,
 
 THE MONKES TALE. 101 
 
 Til God relesed him at certain yeres, 
 
 And yaf him wit, and than with many a tere 
 
 He thanked God, and ever his lif in fere 
 
 Was he to don amis, or more trespace: 
 
 And til that time he laid was on his here. 
 
 He knew that God was ful of might and grace. 
 
 BALTHASAR. 
 
 His sone, which that highte Balthasar, 
 Tliat held the regne after his fadres day. 
 He by his fader coude not beware. 
 For proude he was of herte, and of array: 
 And eke an ydolaster was he ay. 
 His high estat assured him in pride; 
 But fortune cast him doun (and ther he lay) 
 And sodenly his regne gan devide. 
 
 A feste he made unto his lordes alle 
 Upon a time, and made hem blithe be, 
 And than his officeres gan he calle; 
 Goth, bringeth forth the vessels, quod he, 
 Which that my fader in his prosperitee 
 Out of the temple of Jerusalem beraft. 
 And to our highe goddes thanke we 
 Of honour, that our eldres with us laft. 
 
 His wif, his lordes, and his concubines 
 Ay dronken, while hir appetites last. 
 Out of thise noble vessels sondry wines. 
 And on a wall this king his eyen cast. 
 And saw an hand armies, that wrote ful fast, 
 Por fere of vshiche he quoke, and siked sore. 
 This hand, that Balthasar so sore agast, 
 Wrote 3Iane techel phares, and no more. 
 
 VOL. II. P
 
 162 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 In al that loiul Magicien was non, 
 That coud expounen what this lettre ment, 
 But Daniel expouned it anon, 
 And said; O king, God to thy fader lent 
 Glorie and honour, regne, tresour, and rent; 
 And he was proud, and nothing God ne dradde; 
 And therfore God gret wreche upon him sent, 
 And him beraft the resne that he hadde. 
 
 "&' 
 
 He was out cast of mannes compagnie, 
 With asses was his habitation ; 
 And ete hey, as a best, in wete and drie. 
 Til that he knew by grace and by reson. 
 That God of heven hath domination 
 Ov^er every regne, and every creature: 
 And than had God of him compassion, 
 And him restored his regne and his figure. 
 
 Eke thou, that art his sone, art proud also, 
 And knowest all thise thinges veraily; 
 And art rebel to God, and art his fo. , 
 
 Thou dranke eke of his vessels boldely, 
 Thy wif eke, and thy wenches sinfully 
 Dranke of the same vessels sondry wines. 
 And heried false goddes cursedly, 
 Therfore to thee yshapen ful gret pine is. 
 
 This hand was sent fro God, that on the wall 
 Wrote Mane techel phares, trusteth me; 
 Thy regne is don, thou weyest nought at all; 
 Divided is thy regne, and it shal be 
 To Medes and to Perses yeven, quod he. 
 And thilke same night this king was slawe ; 
 And Darius occupied his degree, 
 Tliough he therto had neither right ne lawe.
 
 THE MONKES TALE. 163 
 
 Lordinejes, ensaniple hereby moun ye take, 
 How that in lordship is no sikernesse: 
 For whan that fortune wol a man forsake. 
 She bereth away his regne and his richesse, 
 And eke his frendes, bothe more and lesse. 
 For what man that hath frendes thurgh fortune. 
 Mishap wol make hem enemies, I gesse. 
 This proverbe is ful soth, and ful commune. 
 
 ZENOBIA. 
 
 Zenobia, of Palmerie the quene, 
 (As writen Persiens of hire noblesse) 
 So worthy was" in arnies, and so kene. 
 That no wight passed hire in hardinesse, 
 Ne in linage, ne in other gentillesse. 
 Of kinges blood of Perse is she descended; 
 I say not that she hadde most fairenesse. 
 But of hire shape she might not ben amended. 
 
 From hire childhode I finde that she fledde 
 Office of woman, and to wode she went; 
 And many a wilde hartes blood she shedde 
 With arwes brode that she to hem sent; 
 She was so swift, that she anon hem hent. 
 And whan that she was elder, she wold kille 
 Leons, lepards, and beres al to-rent. 
 And in hire armes weld hem at hire wille. 
 
 She dorst the wilde bestes dennes seke. 
 And rennen in the mountaignes all the night. 
 And slepe under the bush; and she coud eke 
 Wrastlen by veray force and veray might 
 With any yong man, were he never so wight; 
 Ther mighte nothing in hire armes stonde; 
 She kept hire maidenhode from every wight, 
 To no man deigned hire for to be bonde.
 
 164 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 But at the last hire frendes han hire maried 
 To Odenate, a prince of that contree; 
 Al were it so, that she hem longe taried. 
 And ye shul understonden, how that he 
 Hadde swiche fantasies as hadde she; 
 But natheles, whan they were knit in fere. 
 They Uved in joye, and in feiicitee. 
 For eche of hem had other lefe and dere. 
 
 Save o thing, that she n'olde never assente. 
 By no way, that he shulde by hire lie 
 But ones, for it was hire plaine entente 
 To have a ehilde, the world to multiplie : 
 And al so sone as that she might espie. 
 That she was not with ehilde with that dede. 
 Than would she suffer him don his fantasie 
 Eftsone, and not but ones out of drede. 
 
 And if she were with child at thilke cast, 
 No more shuld he playen thilke game 
 Till fully fourty dayes weren past: 
 Than wold she ones suff^re him do the same. 
 Al were this Odenate wild or tame, 
 He gate no more of hire, for thus she sayde. 
 It was to wives lecherie and shame. 
 In other cas if that men with hem playde. 
 
 Two sones by this Odenate had she, 
 The which she kept in vertue and lettrure. 
 But now unto our tale turne we: 
 I say, so worshipful a creature, 
 And wise therwith, and large with mesure. 
 So penible in the werre, and curteis eke, 
 Xe more labour might in werre endure. 
 Was non, though al this world men shulden seke.
 
 THE MONKES TALE. 1G5 
 
 Hire riche array ne mighte not be told, 
 As wel in vessell as in hire clothing: 
 She was al clad in pierrie and in gold, 
 And eke she lefte not for non hunting 
 To have of sondry tonges ful knowing, 
 Whan that she leiser had, and for to entend 
 To lernen bookes was all hire liking. 
 How she in vertue might hire lif dispend. 
 
 And shortly of this storie for to trete, 
 So doughty was hire husbond and eke she, 
 That they conquered many regnes grete 
 In the Orient, with many a faire citee, 
 Appertenaunt unto the majestee 
 Of Rome, and with strong hand held hem ful fast, 
 Ne never might hir fomen don hem flee. 
 Ay while that Odenates dayes last. 
 
 Hire batailles, who so list hem for to rede, 
 Againe Sapor the king, and other mo. 
 And how that all this processe fell in dede. 
 Why she conquered, and what title therto. 
 And after of hire mischefe and hire wo, 
 How that she was beseged, and ytake, 
 Let him unto my maister Petrark go, 
 That writeth ynough of this, I undertake. 
 
 Whan Odenate was ded, she mightily 
 The regnes held, and with hire propre bond 
 Agains hire fos she fought so cruelly. 
 That ther n'as king ne prince in all that loud. 
 That he n'as glad, if he that grace fond 
 That she ne wolde upon his lond werreye : 
 With hire they maden alliaunce by bond 
 To ben in pees, and let hire ride and pleye. 
 
 P 2
 
 166 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 The eraperour of Rome Claudius, 
 Ne, him bet'oni, the Romain Galien 
 Ne dorste never be so corageous, 
 Ne non Ermin, ne non Egiptiea, 
 Ne Surrien, ne non Arabien 
 Within the feld ne dorste with hire fight. 
 Lest that she wold hem with hire hondes slen, 
 Or with hire meinie putten hem to flight. 
 
 In kinges habite wente hire sones two, 
 As heires of hir fadres regnes alle, 
 And Heremanno and Timolao 
 Hir names were, as Persiens hem calle. 
 But ay fortune hath in hire hony galle : 
 This mighty quene may no while endure. 
 Fortune out of hire regne made hire falle 
 To wretchednesse, and to misaventure. 
 
 Aurelian, whan that the governance 
 Of Rome came into his hondes twey. 
 He shope upon this quene to do vengeance, 
 And with his legions he toke his way 
 Toward Zenobie, and shortly for to say. 
 He made hire flee, and atte last hire hent, 
 And fettred hire, and eke hire children tway. 
 And wan the lond, and home to Rome he went. 
 
 Amonges other thinges that he wan. 
 Hire char, that was with gold wrought and pierrie, 
 This grete Romain, this Aurelian 
 Hath with him lad, for that men shuld it see. 
 Beforen his triumphe walketh she 
 With gilte chaines on hire necke honging, 
 Crouned she was, as after hire degree, 
 And ful of pierrie charged hire clothing.
 
 THE MONKES TALE. 167 
 
 Alas fortune ! she that whilom was 
 Dredeful to kinges and to emperoures, 
 Now gaureth all the peple on hire, alas! 
 And she that helmed was in starke stom-es, 
 And wan by force tounes stronge and toures, 
 Shal on hire hed now were a vitremite : 
 And she that bare the sceptre ful of floures, 
 Slial here a distaf hire cost for to quite. 
 
 NERO. 
 
 Although that Nero were as vicious, 
 As any fend, that lith ful low adoun, 
 Yet he, as telleth us Suetonius, 
 This wide world had in subjectioun, 
 Both Est and West, South and Septentrioun. 
 Of rubies, saphires, and of perles white 
 Were all his clothes brouded up and doun. 
 For he in gemmes gretly gan delite. 
 
 More delicat, more pompous of array, 
 More proude, was never emperour than he; 
 That ilke cloth that he had wered o day, 
 After that time he n'olde it never see; 
 Nettes of gold threde had he gret plentee, 
 To fish in Tiber, whan him list to play ; 
 His lustes were as law, in his degree. 
 For fortune as his frend wold him obay. 
 
 He Rome brente for his delicacie; 
 The senatours he slow upon a day. 
 To heren how that men wold wepe and crie ; 
 And slow his brother, and by his suster lay. 
 His moder made he in pitous array, 
 For he hire wombe let slitten, to behold 
 Wher he conceived was, so wala wa! 
 That he so litel of his moder told.
 
 168 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 No tere out of his eyen for that sight 
 Ne came, but sayd, a faire woman was she. 
 Gret wonder is, how that he coud or might 
 Be domesman of hire dede beautee : 
 The wine to bringen him commanded he, 
 And dranke anon, non other wo he made. 
 Whan might is joined unto crueltee; 
 Aias ! to depe v/ol the venime wade. 
 
 In j^outhe a maister had this emperour 
 To techen him lettrure and curtesie, 
 For of moraUtee he was the flour, 
 As in his time, but if bookes lie. 
 And while this maister had of him maistrie, 
 He maked him so conning and so souple, 
 That longe time it was, or tyrannic, 
 Or any vice dorst in him uncouple. 
 
 This Seneka, of which that I devise. 
 Because Nero had of him swiche drede, 
 For he fro vices wold him ay chastise 
 "Discretly, as by word, and not by dede, 
 Sire, he wold say, an emperour mote nede 
 Be vertuous, and haten tyrannic. 
 For which he made him in a bathe to blede 
 On bothe his armes, till he muste die. 
 
 This Nero had eke of a custumaunce 
 In youth ageins his maister for to rise; 
 Which afterward him thought a gret grevaunce, 
 Therfore he made him dien in this wise. 
 But natheles this Seneka the wise 
 Chees in a bathe to die in this manere. 
 Rather than han another turmentise : 
 And thus hath Nero slain his maister dere.
 
 THE MONKES TALE. 169 
 
 Now fell it so, that fortune list no lenger 
 The highe pride of Nero to cherice : [streiiger. 
 For tliough that he were strong, yet was she 
 She thoughte thus; by God I am to nice 
 To set a man, that is fultilled of vice, 
 In high degree, and emperour him calle: 
 By God out of his sete I wol him trice. 
 Whan he lest weneth, sonest shal he falle. 
 
 The peple rose upon him on a night 
 For his defaute, and whan he it espied. 
 Out of his dores anon he hath him dight 
 Alone, and ther he wend han ben allied. 
 He knocked fast, and ay the more he cried, 
 The faster shetten they hir dores alle : 
 Tho wist he wel he had himself misgied, 
 And went his way, no lenger dorst he calle. 
 
 The peple cried and ronibled up and doun, 
 That with his eres herd he how they sayde, 
 Wher is this false tyrant, this Neroun? 
 For fere almost out of his wit he brayde, 
 And to his goddes pitously he preide 
 For socour, but it mighte not betide: 
 For drede of this him thoughte that he deide, 
 And ran into a gardin him to hide. 
 
 And in this gardin fond he cherles tweye 
 That saten by a fire gret and red. 
 And to thise cherles two he gan to preye 
 To slen him, and to girden of his hed. 
 That to his body, whan that he were ded. 
 Were no despit ydon for his defame. 
 Himself he slow, he coud no better rede. 
 Of which fortune lough and hadde a game.
 
 170 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 HOLOFERNES. 
 
 Was never capitaiue under a king, 
 That regnes mo put in subjectioun, 
 Ne strenger was in feld of alle thing 
 As in his time, ne greter of renoun, 
 Ne more pompous in high presumptioun, 
 Than Holoferne, which that fortune ay kist 
 So Ukerously, and lad him up and doun, 
 Til that his hed was of, or that he wist. 
 
 Not only that this world had him in awe 
 For lesing of richesse and libertee; 
 But he made every man reneie his lawe. 
 Nabuchodonosor was God, sayd he; 
 Non other God ne shulde honoured be. 
 Ageins his heste ther dare no wight trespace, 
 Save in Bethulia, a strong citee, 
 Wher Eliachim a preest was of that place. 
 
 But take kepe of the deth of Holoferne; 
 Amid his host he dronken lay a night 
 Within his tente, large as is a berne; 
 And yet for all his pompe and all his might, 
 Judith, a woman, as he lay upright 
 Sleping, his hed of smote, and fro his tente 
 Ful prively she stale from every wight, 
 And witli his hed unto hire toun she wente. 
 
 ANTIOCHUS. 
 
 What nedeth it of king Antiochus 
 To tell his high and real majestee. 
 His gret pride, and his werkes venimous? 
 For swiche another was ther non as he;
 
 THE MONKES TALE, 171 
 
 Redeth what that he was in Machabe. 
 And redeth the proud wordes that he seid, 
 And why he fell from his prosperitee, 
 And in an hill how wretchedly he deid. 
 
 Fortune him had enhaunsed so in pride, 
 That veraily he wend he might attaine 
 Unto the sterres upon every side, 
 And in a balaunce weyen eche mountaine. 
 And all the floodes of the see restreine : 
 And Goddes peple had he most in hate. 
 Hem wold he sleen in turment and in peine, 
 Wening that God ne might his pride abate. 
 
 And for that Nichanor and Timothee 
 With Jewes were venquished mightily, 
 Unto the Jewes swiche an hate had he, 
 That he bad greithe his char ful hastily, 
 And swore and sayde ful despitously, 
 Unto Jerusalem he wold eftsone 
 To wreke his ire on it ful cruelly. 
 But of his purpos was he let ful sone. 
 
 God for his manace him so sore smote, 
 With invisible wound, ay incurable, 
 That in his guttes carfe it so and bote, 
 Til thatte his peines weren importable; 
 And certainly the wreche was resonable, 
 For many a mannes guttes did he peine; 
 But from his purpos, cursed and damnable, 
 For all his smerte, he n'olde him not restreine: 
 
 But bade anon apparailen his host. 
 And sodenly, or he was of it ware, 
 God daunted all his pride, and all his host; 
 For he so sore fell out of his chare,
 
 172 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 That it his lirames and his skiiine to-tare, 
 So that he neither mighte go ne ride; 
 But in a ehaiere men about him bare, 
 Alle forbrused bothe bak and side. 
 
 The wreche of God him smote so cruelly. 
 That thurgh his body wicked wormes crept. 
 And therwithal he stanke so horribly, 
 That non of all his meinie that him kept, 
 "Whether so that he woke or elles slept, 
 Ne mighte not of him the stinke endure. 
 In this mischiefe he wailed and eke wept. 
 And knew God, Lord of every creature. 
 
 To all his host, and to himself also 
 Ful wlatsom was the stinke of his careine; 
 No man ne mighte him beren to ne fro. 
 And in this stinke, and this horrible peine. 
 He starf ful wretchedly in a mountaine. 
 Thus hath this robbour, and this homicide, 
 That many a man made to vrepe and pleine, 
 Swiche guerdon, as belongeth unto pride. 
 
 ALEXANDER. 
 
 The storie of Alexandre is so commune, 
 That every wight, that hath discretioun. 
 Hath herd somwhat or all of his fortune. 
 This wide world, as in conclusioun, 
 He wan by strength, or for his high renoun 
 They weren glad for pees unto him sende. 
 The pride of man and host he layd adoun, 
 Wher so he came, unto the worldes ende. 
 
 Comparison might never yet be maked 
 Betwix him and another conquerour, 
 Por al this world for drede of him hath quaked; 
 He was of knighthode and of fredome flour;
 
 THE li^ONKES TALE. 173 
 
 Fortune him raaked the heir of hire honour. 
 Save wine and women, nothing might asswage 
 His high entente in amies and labour, 
 So was he ful of leonin coraee. 
 
 '&^ 
 
 What pris were it to him, though I you told 
 Of Darius, and an hundred thousand mo. 
 Of kinges, princes, dukes, erles bold. 
 Which he conquered, and brought hem into wo? 
 I say, as fer as man may ride or go 
 The world was his, what shuld I more devise? 
 For though I wrote or told you ever mo 
 Of his knighthode, it mighte not suffice. 
 
 Twelf yere he regned, as saith Machabe; 
 Phiiippus sone of Macedoine he was. 
 That first was king in Grece the contree. 
 O worthy gentil Alexandre, alas 
 That ever shuld thee fallen swiche a cas ! 
 Enpoisoned of thyn owen folke thou were; 
 Thy sis fortune hath turned into an as, 
 And yet for thee ne wept she never a tere. 
 
 Who shal me yeven teres to complaine 
 The deth of gentillesse, and of fraunchise. 
 That all this world welded in his demaine. 
 And yet him thought it mighte not suffice? 
 So ful was his corage of high emprise. 
 Alas! who shal me helpen to endite 
 False fortune, and poison to despise? 
 The whiche tv/o of all this wo I wite. 
 
 JULIUS CESAR. 
 
 By wisdome, manhode, and by gret labour. 
 From humblehede to real majestee 
 VOL. II. Q
 
 174 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 Up rose he Julius the conquerour, 
 That wan all the Occident, by load and see, 
 By strengthe of hond, or elles by tretee, 
 And unto Rome made hem tributarie ; 
 And sith of Rome the eniperour was he, 
 Til that fortune wexe his adversarie. 
 
 O mighty Cesar, that in Thessalie 
 Ageins Pompeius father thin in lawe. 
 That of the orient had all the chivalrie. 
 As fer as that the day beginneth dawe, [slawe. 
 Thou thurgh thy knighthode hast hem take and 
 Save fewe folk, that with Pompeius fledde, 
 Thurgh which thou put all the orient in awe, 
 Thanke fortune, that so wel thee spedde. 
 
 But nov*^ a litel while I wol bewaile 
 This Pompeius, this noble governour 
 Of Rome, which that fled at this bataille. 
 I say, on of his men, a false traitour, 
 His hed of smote, to winnen him favour 
 Of Julius, and him the hed he brought: 
 Alas, Pompeie, of the orient conquerour. 
 That fortune unto swiche a fin thee brought! 
 
 To Rome again repaireth Julius 
 With his triumphe laureat ful hie, 
 But on a time Brutus and Cassius, 
 That ever had of his high estat en vie, 
 Ful prively had made conspiracie 
 Ageins this Julius in sotil wise: 
 And cast the place, in which he shulde die 
 With bodekins, as I shal you devise. 
 
 This Julius to the capitolie wente 
 Upon a day, as he was wont to gon,
 
 THE MONKES TALE. 175 
 
 And in the capitolie anon him hente 
 
 This false Brutus, and his other foon, 
 
 And stiked him with bodekins anon 
 
 With many a wound, and thus they let him lie : 
 
 But never gront he at no stroke but on, 
 
 Or elles at two, but if his storie he. 
 
 So manly was this Julius of herte, 
 And so wel loved estatly honestee. 
 That though his dedly woundes sore smerte, 
 His mantel over his hippes caste he. 
 For no man shulde seen his privetee : 
 And as he lay of dying in a trance. 
 And wiste veraily that ded was he. 
 Of honestee yet had he remembrance. 
 
 Lucan, to thee this storie I recommende. 
 And to Sueton, and Valerie also. 
 That of this storie writen word and ende : 
 How that to thise gret conqueroures two 
 Fortune was first a frend, and sith a fo. 
 No man ne trust upon hire favour long, 
 But have hire in await for evermo; 
 Witnesse on all thise conqueroures strong. 
 
 CRESUS. 
 
 The riche Cresus, whilom king of Lide, 
 Of whiche Cresus, Cirus sore him dradde. 
 Yet was he caught amiddes all his pride. 
 And to be brent men to the fire him ladde : 
 But swiche a rain doun from the welken shadde. 
 That slow the fire, and made to him escape: 
 But to beware no grace yet he hadde. 
 Til fortune on the galwes made him gape.
 
 17G CANTERBURY TALES, 
 
 Whan he escaped was, he can not stint 
 For to beginne a newe wene again: 
 He wened wel, for that fortune him sent 
 Swiche hap, that he escaped thurgh the rain. 
 That of his foos he mighte not be slain ; 
 And eke a sweven upon a night he mette. 
 Of which he was so proud, and eke so fain, 
 That in vengeance he all his herte sette. 
 
 "S^ 
 
 Upon a tree he was, as that him thought, 
 Ther Jupiter him wesshe, both bak and side; 
 And Phebus eke a faire towail him brought 
 To drie him with, and therfore wex his pride. 
 And to his dough ter that stood him beside, 
 Which that he knew in high science habound, 
 He bad hire tell him what it signified. 
 And she his dreme began right thus expound. 
 
 The tree (quod she) the galwes is to mene. 
 And Jupiter betokeneth snow and rain. 
 And Phebus with his towail clere and clene, 
 Tho ben the sonnes stremes, soth to sain : 
 Thou shalt anhanged be, fader, certain ; 
 Rain shal thee wash, and sonne shal thee drie. 
 Thus warned him ful plat and eke ful plain 
 His doughter, which that called was Phanie. 
 
 Anhanged was Cresus the proude king, 
 His real trone might him not availle : 
 Tragedie is non other maner thing, 
 Ne can in singing crien ne bewaile. 
 But for that fortune all day wol assaille 
 With unware stroke the regnes that ben proude : 
 For whan men trusten hire, than wol she faille. 
 And cover hire bright face with a cloudc.
 
 THE MONKES TALE. 177 
 
 PETER OF SPAINE. 
 
 O noble, o worthy Petro, glorie of Spaine, 
 Whom fortune held so high in majestee, 
 Wei oughten men thy pitous deth complaine. 
 Out of thy lond thy brother made thee flee. 
 And after at a sege by sotiltee 
 Thou were betraied, and lad unto his tent, 
 Wher as he with his owen bond slow thee, 
 Succeeding in thy regne and in thy rent. 
 
 The feld of snow, with th'egle of blak therin. 
 Caught with the limerod, coloured as the giede. 
 He brewed this cursednesse, and all this sinne; 
 The wicked neste was werker of this dede; 
 Not Charles Oliver, that toke ay hede 
 Of trouthe and honour, but of Armorike 
 Genilon Oliver, corrupt for mede, 
 Broughte this worthy king in swiche a brike. 
 
 PETRO, KING OF CYPRE. 
 
 O worthy Petro king of Cypre also, 
 That Alexandria wan by high maistrie, 
 Ful many an hethen wroughtest thou ful wo, 
 Of which thin owen lieges had envie : 
 And for no thing but for thy chivalrie, 
 They in thy bed han slain thee by the morwe; 
 Thus can fortune hire whele governe and gie. 
 And out of joye bringen men to sorwe. 
 
 BARNABO VISCOUNT. 
 
 Of Milane grete Barnabo Viscount, 
 God of debt, and scourge of Lumbardie, 
 Why shuld 1 not thin infortune account, 
 Sith in estat thou clomben were so high ? 
 
 Q2
 
 178 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 Thy brothers sone, that was thy double allie, 
 For he thy nev ew was, and sone in lawe, 
 Within his prison made he thee to die. 
 But why, ne how, n'ot I that thou were slawe. 
 
 HUGELIN OF PISE. 
 
 Of the erl Hugelin of Pise the langour 
 Ther may no tonge tellen for pitee. 
 But litel out of Pise stant a tour, 
 In whiche tour in prison yput was he, 
 And with him ben his htel children three. 
 The eldest scarsely five yere was of age : 
 Alas ! fortune, it was gret crueltee 
 Swiche briddes for to put in swiche a cage. 
 
 Dampned was he to die in that prison. 
 For Roger, which that bishop was of Pise, 
 Had on him made a false suggestion, 
 Thurgh which the peple gan upon him rise. 
 And put him in prison, in swiche a wise, 
 As ye han herd; and mete and drinke he had 
 So smale, that wel unnethe it may suffise. 
 And therwithal it was ful poure and bad. 
 
 And on a day befell, that in that houre. 
 Whan that his mete wont was to be brought, 
 The gailer shette the dores of the toure; 
 He hered it wel, but he spake right nought. 
 And in his herte anon ther fell a thought. 
 That they for hunger wolden do him dien; 
 Alas! quod he, alas that I was wrought! 
 Therwith the teres fellen fro his eyen. 
 
 His yonge sone, that three yere was of age. 
 Unto him said, fader, why do ye wepe?
 
 THE MONKES TALE. 179 
 
 Whan will the gailer bruigen our potage? 
 Is ther no morsel bred that ye do kepe? 
 I am so hungry, that T may not slepe. 
 Now wolde God that I might slepen ever, 
 Than shuld not hunger in my wombe crepe; 
 Ther n'is no thing, sauf bred, that me were lever. 
 
 Thus day by day this childe began to crie. 
 Til in his fadres barme adoun it lay. 
 And saide; farewel, fader, I mote die; 
 And kist his fader, and dide the same day. 
 And whan the woful fader did it sey. 
 For wo his armes two he gan to bite, 
 And saide, alas! fortune, and wala wa! 
 Thy false whele my wo all may I wite. 
 
 His children wenden, that for hunger it was 
 That he his armes gnowe, and not for wo, 
 And sayden : fader, do not so, alas ! 
 But rather ete the flesh upon us two. 
 Our flesh thou yaf us, take our flesh us fro. 
 And ete ynough: right thus they to him seide. 
 And after that, within a day or two. 
 They laide hem in his lappe adoun, and deide. 
 
 Himself dispeired eke for hunger starf. 
 Thus ended is this mighty Erl of Pise: 
 Prom high estat fortune away him carf. 
 Of this tragedie it ought ynough suifice; 
 Who so wol here it in a longer wise, 
 Tledeth the grete poete of Itaille, 
 That highte Dante, for he can it devise 
 Pro point to point, not o word wol he faille.
 
 180 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 THE NONNES PREESTES PROLOGUE. 
 
 Ho ! quod the knight, good sire, no more of this : 
 That ye han said, it right ynough ywis, 
 And mochel more ; for litel hevinesse 
 Is right ynough to mochel folk, I gesse. 
 I say for me, it is a gret disese, 
 Wher as men have ben in gret welth and ese, 
 To heren of hir soden fall, alas! 
 And the contrary is joye and gret solas. 
 As whan a man hath ben in poure estat. 
 And climbeth up, and wexeth fortunat, 
 And ther abideth in prosperitee: 
 Swiche thing is gladsom, as it thinketh me, 
 And of swiche thing were goodly for to telle. 
 Ye, quod our hoste, by Seint Poules belle, 
 Ye say right soth; this monk hath clapped loude : 
 He spake, how fortune covered with a cloude 
 I wote not what, and als of a tragedie 
 Right now ye herd : and pajde no remedie 
 It is for to bewailen, ne complaine 
 That that is don, and als it is a paine. 
 As ye han said, to here of^hevinesse. 
 Sire monk, no more of this, so God you blesse; 
 Your tale anoyeth all this compagnie; 
 Swiche talking is not worth a boterflie, 
 For therin is ther no disport ne game: 
 Therfore, sire monk, dan Piers by your name, 
 I pray you hertely, tell us somwhat elles, 
 For sikerly, n'ere clinking of your belles. 
 That on your bridel hange on every side. 
 By heven king, that for us alle dide.
 
 THE NONNES PREESTES TALE. 181 
 
 1 sliuld er this have fallen doun for slepe. 
 Although the slough had ben never so depe: 
 Than hadde your tale all ben tokle in vain. 
 For certainly, as that thise clerkes sain, 
 Wher as a man may have non audience, 
 Nought helpeth it to tellen his sentence. 
 And wel 1 wote the substance is in me. 
 If any thing shal wel reported be. 
 Sire, say somwhat of hunting, I you pray. 
 
 Nay, quod this Monk, I have no lust to play : 
 Now let another telle as I have told. 
 
 Than spake our hoste with rude speche and bold, 
 And sayd unto the Nonnes Preest anon, [John, 
 Come nere, thou preest, come hither, thou Sire 
 Telle us swiche thing, as may our hertes glade. 
 Be blithe, although thou ride upon a jade. 
 What though thyn horse be bothe foule and lene. 
 If he wol serve thee, recke thee not a bene: 
 Loke that thyn herte be mery evermo. 
 
 Yes, hoste, quod he, so mote I ride or go. 
 But I be mery, ywis I wol be blamed. 
 And right anon his tale he hath attamed; 
 And thus he said unto us everich on. 
 This swete preest, this goodly man Sire John. 
 
 THE NONNES PREESTES TALE, 
 
 A POURE widewe somdel stoupen in age. 
 Was whilom dwelling in a uarwe cotage, 
 Beside a grove, stonding in a dale. 
 This widewe, which I tell you of my tale. 
 Sin thilke day that she was last a wif, 
 In patience led a ful simple lif.
 
 182 CANTERBURY TALES, 
 
 For litel was hire catel and hire rente : 
 
 By husbondry of swiche as God hire sente, 
 
 She found hireself, and eke hire doughtren two. 
 
 Three large sowes had she, and no mo : 
 
 Three kine, and eke a sheep that highte Malle. 
 
 Ful sooty was hire boure, and eke hire halle, 
 
 In which she ete many a slender mele. 
 
 Of poinant sauce ne knew she never a dele. 
 
 No deintee morsel passed thurgh hire throte; 
 
 Hire diete was accordant to hire cote. 
 
 Repletion ne made hire never sike; 
 
 Attempre diete was all hire physike, 
 
 And exercise, and hertes suffisance. 
 
 The goute let hire nothing for to dance. 
 
 No apoplexie shente not hire hed. 
 
 No win ne dranke she, neyther white ne red : 
 Hire bord was served most with white and black, 
 Milk and broun bred, in which she fond no lack, 
 Seinde bacon, and somtime an ey or tw^y; 
 
 . For she was as it were a maner dey. 
 
 A yerd she had, enclosed all about 
 With stickes, and a drie diche without. 
 In which she had a cok highte Chaunteclere, 
 In all the land of croAving n'as his pere. 
 His vois was merier than the mery orgon, 
 On masse dales that in the chirches gon. 
 Wei sikerer was his crowing in his loge, 
 Than is a clok, or any abbey orloge. 
 By nature he knew eche ascentioun 
 Of the equinoctial in thilke toun; 
 For whan degrees fiftene were ascended, 
 Than crew he, that it might not ben amended. 
 
 His combe was redder than the fin corall, 
 Enbattelled, as it were a castel wall.
 
 THE NONNES PREESTES TALE. 183 
 
 His bill was black, and as the jet it shone ; 
 Like asure were his legges and his tone; 
 His nailes M'hiter than the lily flour, 
 And like the burned gold was his colour. 
 
 This gentil cok had in his governance 
 Seven hennes, for to don all his plesance, 
 Which were his susters and his pararaoures. 
 And wonder like to him, as of coloures. 
 Of which the fairest hewed in the throte, 
 Was cleped faire damoselle Pertelote. 
 Curteis she was, discrete, and debonaire, 
 And compenable, and bare hireself so faire, 
 Sithen the day that she was sevennight old, 
 That trewelich she hath the herte in hold 
 Of.Chaunteclere, loken in every lith: 
 He loved hire so, that wel was him therwith. 
 But swiche a joye it was to here hem sing, 
 Whan that the brighte sonne gan to spring, 
 In swete accord: my lefe is fare in lond. 
 
 For thilke time, as I have understond, 
 Bestes and briddes couden speke and sing. 
 
 And so befell, that in a dawening, 
 As Chaunteclere among his wives alle 
 Sate on his perche, that was in the halle. 
 And next him sate his faire Pertelote, 
 This Chaunteclere gan gronen in his throte, 
 As man that in his dreme is dretched sore. 
 And whan that Pertelote thus herd him rore. 
 She was agast, and saide, herte dere. 
 What aileth you to grone in this manere? 
 Ye ben a veray sleper, fy for shame. 
 
 And he answered and sayde thus; madame, 
 1 pray you, that ye take it not agrefe : 
 By God me mette I was in swiche mischefe
 
 184 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 Right now, that yet niin herte is sore alright. 
 Now God (quod he) my sweveu reeche aright, 
 And kepe my body out of foule prisoun. 
 
 Me mette, how that I roraed up and doun 
 Within our yerde, wher as I saw a beste. 
 Was hke an hound, and wold han made areste 
 Upon my body, and han had me ded. 
 His colour was betwix yelwe and red; 
 And tipped was his tail, and both his eras 
 With black, unlike the reraenant of his heres. 
 His snout was smal, with glowing eyen twey: 
 Yet for his loke almost for fere I dey : 
 This caused me my groning douteles. 
 
 Avoy, quod she, fy on you herteles. 
 Alas! quod she, for by that God above 
 Now han ye lost myn herte and all my love; 
 I cannot love a coward by my faith. 
 For certes, what so any woman saith, 
 We all desiren, if it mighte be. 
 To have an husbond, hardy, wise and free, 
 And secree, and non niggard ne no fool, 
 Ne him that is agast of every tool, 
 Ne non avantour by that God above. 
 How dorsten ye for shame say to your love, 
 That any thing might maken you aferde? 
 Han ye no mannes herte, and han a berde? 
 Alas! and con ye ben agast of swevenis? 
 Nothing but vanitee, god wote, in sweven is. 
 
 Swevenes engendren of repletions. 
 And oft of fume, and of complexions. 
 Whan humours ben to habundant in a wight. 
 Certes this dreme, which ye han met to-night, 
 Cometh of the grete superfluitee 
 Of youre rede colera parde,
 
 THE NONNES PREESTES TALE. 185 
 
 Which causeth folk to dredea in hir dremes 
 Of arwes, and of tiie with rede lemes. 
 Of rede bestes, that they wol hem bite, 
 Of conteke, and of waspes gret and lite; 
 night as the humour of melancolie 
 Causeth ful many a man in slepe to crie, 
 For fere of boUes, and of beres blake, 
 Or elles that blake devils wol hem take. 
 
 Of other humours coud I telle also, 
 That werken many a man in slepe moch wo: 
 But I wol passe, as lightly as I can, 
 
 Lo Caton, which that was so wise a man. 
 Said he not thus? Ne do no force of dremes. 
 
 Now, Sire, quod she,whan we flee fro the hemes. 
 For Goddes love, as take som laxatif : 
 Up peril of my soule, and of my lif, 
 I conseil you the best, I wol not lie. 
 That both of coler, and of melancolie 
 Ye purge you; and for ye shul not tarie. 
 Though in this toun be non apotecarie, 
 T shal myself two herbes techen you. 
 That shal be for your hele, and for your prow; 
 And in our yerde, the herbes shall I finde, 
 The which han of hir propretee by kinde 
 To purgen you benethe, and eke above. 
 Sire, forgete not this for Goddes love; 
 Ye ben ful colerike of complexion ; 
 Ware that the sonne in his ascention 
 Ne finde you not replete of humours bote : 
 And if it do, I dare wel lay a grote. 
 That ye shul han a fever tertiane, 
 Or elles an ague, that may be your bane. 
 A day or two ye shul han digestives 
 Of wormes, or ye take your laxatives, 
 
 VOL. II. R
 
 186 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 Of laureole, centauiie, and fumetere, 
 
 Or elles of ellebor, that groweth there, 
 
 Of catapuce, or of gaitre-beries. 
 
 Or herbe ive growing in our yerd, that mery is : 
 
 Picke hem right as they grow, and ete hem in. 
 
 Beth mery, husbond, for your fader kin; 
 
 Dredeth no dreme ; I can say you no more, 
 
 Madame, quod he, grand mercy of your lore. 
 But natheles, as touching dan Caton, 
 That hath of wisdome swiche a gret renoun. 
 Though that he bade no dremes for to drede. 
 By God, men moun in olde bookes rede. 
 Of many a man, more of auctoritee 
 Than ever Caton was, so mote I the, 
 Tliat all the revers sayu of his sentence, 
 And han wel founden by experience, 
 That dremes ben significations 
 As wel of joye, as tribulations, 
 That folk enduren in this lif present. 
 Ther nedeth make of this non argument; 
 The veray preve sheweth it indede. 
 
 On of the gretest auctours that men rede, 
 Saith thus; that whilom twey felawes wente 
 On pilgrimage in a ful good entente; 
 And happed so, they came into a toun, 
 Wher ther was swiche a congregatioun 
 Of peple, and eke so streit of herbergage. 
 That they ne founde as moche as a cotage, 
 In which they bothe might ylogged be : 
 Wherfore they musten of necessitee. 
 As for that night, departen compagnie; 
 And eche of hem goth to his hostelrie. 
 And toke his logging as it wolde falle. 
 
 That on of hem was logged in a stalle,
 
 THE NONNES PREESTES TALE. 187 
 
 Fer iu a yerd, with oxen of the plough; 
 That other man was logged wel ynough, 
 As was his aventure, or his fortune, 
 That us governeth all, as in commune. 
 
 And so befell, that, long or it were day. 
 This man met in his bed, ther as he lay. 
 How that his felaw gan upon him calle. 
 And said, alas ! for in an oxes stalle 
 This night shal I be mordred, ther I lie. 
 Now helpe me, dere brother, or I die; 
 In alle haste come to me, he saide. 
 
 This man out of his slepe for fere abraide ; 
 But whan that he was waked of his slepe. 
 He turned him, and toke of this no kepe; 
 Him thought his dreme was but a vanitee. 
 Thus twies in his sleping dremed he. 
 
 And at the thridde time yet his felaw 
 Came, as him thought, and said, T now am slaw: 
 Behold my blody woundes, depe and wide. 
 Arise up erly, in the morwe tide, 
 And at the West gate of the toun (quod he) 
 A carte ful of donge ther shalt thou see, 
 In which my body is hid prively. 
 Do thilke carte arresten boldely. 
 My gold caused my mordre, soth to sain. 
 And told him every point how he was slain 
 With a ful pitous face, pale of hewe. 
 And trusteth wel, his dreme he found ful trewe. 
 For on the morwe, as sone as it was day. 
 To his felawes inne he toke his way : 
 And whan that he came to this oxes stalle, 
 After his felaw he began to calle. 
 
 The hosteler answered him anon, 
 And saide, Sire, your felaw is agon,
 
 188 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 As sone as day he went out of the toun. 
 
 This man gan fallen in suspecioun 
 Remembring on his dremes that he mette, 
 And forth he goth, no lenger wold he lette. 
 Unto the West gate of the toun, and fond 
 A dong carte, as it went for to dong lond, 
 That was arraied in the same wise 
 As ye han herde the dede man devise: 
 And with an hardy herte he gan to crie, 
 Vengeance and justice of this felonie: 
 My felaw mordred is this same night, 
 And in this carte he lith, gaping upright. 
 I crie out on the ministres, quod he. 
 That shulden kepe and reulen this citee: 
 Harow ! alas ! here lith my felaw slain. 
 
 What shuld I more unto this tale sain? 
 The peple out stert, and cast the cart to ground. 
 And in the middel of the dong they found 
 The dede man, that mordred was all newe. 
 
 O blisful God, that art so good and trewe, 
 Lo, how that thou brewreyest mordre alway. 
 Mordre wol out, that see we day by day. 
 Mordre is so wlatsom and abhorainable 
 To God, that is so just and resonable. 
 That he ne wol not suffre it hylled be: 
 Though it abide a yere, or two, or three, 
 Mordre wol out, this is my conclusioun. 
 
 And right anon, the ministres of the toun 
 Han hent the carter, and so sore him pined. 
 And eke the hosteler so sore engined. 
 That they beknew hir wickednesse anon. 
 And were anhanged by the necke bon. 
 
 Here moun ye see that dremes ben to drede. 
 And certes in the same book I rede,
 
 THE NONNES PREESTES TALE. 169 
 
 Right in the nexte chapitre after this, 
 (I gabbe not, so have I joye and bUs) 
 Two men that wold lian passed over the see 
 I'or certain cause in to a fer contree, 
 If that the wind ne hadde ben contrarie, 
 That made hem in a citee for to tarie, 
 That stood ful mery upon an haven side. 
 But on a day, agein the even tide, 
 The wind gan change, and blew right as hem lest. 
 Jolif and glad they wenten to hir rest, 
 And casten hem ful erly for to saile; 
 But to that o man fell a gret mervaile. 
 That on of hem in sleping as he lay. 
 He mette a wonder dreme, again the day : 
 Him thought a man stood by his beddes side. 
 And him commanded, that he shuld abide, 
 And said him thus; if thou to-morwe wende. 
 Thou shalt be dreint; my tale is at an ende. 
 He woke, and told his felaw what he met, 
 And praied him his viage for to let. 
 As for that day, he prayd him for to abide. 
 
 His felaw that lay by his beddes side, 
 Gan for to laugh, and scorned him ful faste. 
 No dreme, quod he, may so my herte agaste, 
 That I wol leten for to do my thinges. 
 I sette not a straw by thy dreminges. 
 For swevens ben but vanitees and japes. 
 Men dreme al day of oules and of apes. 
 And eke of many a mase therwithal ; 
 Men dreme of thing that never was, ne shal. 
 But sith I see that thou wolt here abide. 
 And thus forslouthen wilfully thy tide, 
 God wot it reweth me, and have good day. 
 xVnd thus he took his leve, and went his way. 
 
 R 2
 
 190 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 But or that he had half his cours ysailed, 
 N'ot I not why, ne what meschance it ailed, 
 But casuelly the shippes bottom rente. 
 And ship and man under the water wente 
 In sight of other shippes ther beside. 
 That with him sailed at the same tide. 
 
 And therfore, faire Pertelote so dere, 
 By swiche ensamples olde maist thou lere, 
 That no man shulde be to reccheles 
 Of dremes, for I say thee douteles, 
 That many a dreme ful sore is for to drede. 
 
 Lo, in the lif of seint Kenehne, I rede, 
 That was Kenulphus sone, the noble king 
 Of Mercenrike, how Kehelra mette a thing. 
 A litel or he were mordred on a day, 
 His mordre in his avision he say. 
 His norice him expouned every del 
 His sweven, and bade him for to kepe him wel 
 Fro treson; but he n'as but seven yere old, 
 And therfore litel tale hath he told 
 Of any dreme, so holy was his herte. 
 By God 1 hadde lever than my sherte. 
 That ye had red his legend, as have I. 
 
 Dame Pertelote, I say you trewely, 
 Macrobius that writ the avision 
 In Affrike of the worthy Scipion, 
 Affirmeth dremes, and sayth that they ben 
 Warning of thinges, that men after seen. 
 
 And forthermore, I pray you loketh wel 
 In the olde Testament, of Daniel, 
 If he held dremes any vanitee. 
 
 Rede eke of Joseph, and ther shuln ye see 
 Wher dremes ben somtime (I say not alle) 
 Warning of thinges that shuln after falle.
 
 THE fJONNES PREESTES TALE. 191 
 
 Loke of Egipt the king, dan Pharao, 
 His baker and liis boteler also, 
 Wheder they ne felten non eti'ect in dremes. 
 Who so vvol seken actes of soudiy remes. 
 May rede of dremes many a wonder thing. 
 
 Lo Cresus, which that was of Lydie king-, 
 Mette he not that he sat upon a tree, 
 Which signified he shukl anhanged be? 
 
 Lo hire Andromacha, Hectores wif. 
 That day that Hector shulde lese his hf. 
 She dremed on the same night befornc, 
 How that the hf of Hector shuld be lorne. 
 If thilke day he went into bataille : 
 She warned him, but it might not availle; 
 He went forth for to lighten natheles, 
 And was yslain anon of Achilles. 
 
 But thilke tale is al to long to telle. 
 And eke it is nigh day, I may not dwelle. 
 Shortly I say, as for conclusion. 
 That I shal han of this avision 
 Adversitee : and I say fortherraore. 
 That I ne tell of laxatives no store. 
 For they ben venimous, I wot it wel: 
 I hem deffie, I love hem never a del. 
 
 But let us speke of mirthe, and stinte all this; 
 Madame Pertelote, so have I blis. 
 Of o thing God hath sent me large grace : 
 For whan I see the beautee of your face, 
 Ye ben so scarlet red about your eyen. 
 It maketh all my drede for to dien, 
 For, al so siker as In principio, 
 Mtilier est hominis confiisio, 
 (Madame, the sentence of this Latine is, 
 Woman is mannes joye and niannes blis.)
 
 192 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 For whan I fele a-night your softe side, 
 
 Al be it that I may not on you ride. 
 
 For that our perche is made so narwe, alas ! 
 
 I am so ful of joye and of solas. 
 
 That I deffie bothe sweven and drerae. 
 
 And with that word he flew doun fro the borne, 
 For it was day, and eke his hennes alie; 
 And with a chuk he gan hem for to calle, 
 For he had found a corn, lay in the yerd. 
 ileal he was, he was no more aferd; 
 He fetoered Pertelote twenty time. 
 And trade hire eke as oft, er it was prime. 
 He loketh as it were a grim leoun ; 
 And on his toos he rometh up and doun. 
 Him deigned not to set his feet to ground : 
 He chukketh, whan he hath a corn yfound, 
 And to him rennen than his wives alie. 
 
 Thus real, as a prince is in his halle, 
 Leve I this Chaunteclere in his pasture; 
 And after wol I tell his aventure. 
 
 Whan that the month in which the world began, 
 That highte March, whan God first maked man. 
 Was complete, and ypassed were also, 
 Sithen March ended, thritty dayes and two, 
 Befell that Chaunteclere in all his pride. 
 His seven wives walking him beside. 
 Cast up his eyen to the brighte sonne, 
 That in the signe of Taurus hadde yronne 
 Twenty degrees and on, and somwhat more; 
 He kiiew by kind, and by non other lore, 
 That it was prime, and crew with blisful steven. 
 The Sonne, he said, is clomben up on heven 
 Twenty degrees and on, and more ywis. 
 Madame Pertelote, my worldes blis.
 
 THE NONNES PREESTES TALE. 193 
 
 Herkeneth thise blisful briddes how they sing, 
 And see the freshe tloures how they spring; 
 Ful is min herte of revel, and solas. 
 
 But sodenly him fell a sorweful cas; 
 For ever the latter ende of joye is wo: 
 God wote that worldly joye is sone ago: 
 And if a rethor coude faire endite, 
 He in a chronicle might it saufly write, 
 As for a soveraine notabilitee. 
 
 Now every wise man let him herken me : 
 This story is al so trewe, I undertake, 
 As is the book of Laiuicelot du lake. 
 That women holde in ful gret reverence. 
 Now wol I turne agen to my sentence. 
 
 A col fox, ful of sleigh iniquitee, 
 That in the grove had wonnecl yeres three. 
 By high imagination forecast, 
 The same night thurghout the hegges brast 
 Into the yerd, ther Chaunteclere the faire 
 Was wont, and eke his wives, to repairer 
 And in a bedde of wortes stille he lay, 
 Till it was passed undern of the day. 
 Waiting his time on Chaunteclere to falle: 
 As gladly don thise homicides alle, 
 That in await liggen to mordre men. 
 
 O false raorderour, rucking in thy den! 
 O newe Scariot, newe Genelon ! 
 O false dissimulour, o Greek Sinon, 
 That broughtest Troye al utterly to sorwe ! 
 O Chaunteclere, accursed be the morwe. 
 That thou into thy yerd flew fro the hemes: 
 Thou were ful wel ywarned by thy dremes. 
 That thilke day was perilous to thee. 
 But what that God forewote most nedes be.
 
 194 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 After the opinion of certain clerkes. 
 
 Witnesse on him, that any parfit clerk is. 
 
 That in scole is gret altercation 
 
 In this matere, and gret disputison, 
 
 And hath ben of an hundred thousand men. 
 
 But I ne cannot boult it to the bren, 
 
 As can the holy doctour Augustin, 
 
 Or Boece, or the bishop Bradwardin, 
 
 Whether that Goddes worthy foreweting 
 
 Streineth me nedely for to don a thing, 
 
 (Nedely clepe I simple necessitee) 
 
 Or elles if free chois be granted me 
 
 To do that same thing, or do it nought, 
 
 Though God forewot it, or that it was wrought; 
 
 Or if his weting streineth never a del, 
 
 But by necessitee condicionel. 
 
 I wol not han to don of swiche matere ; 
 
 My tale is of a cok, as ye may here. 
 
 That took his conseil of his wif with sorwe 
 
 To walken in the yerd upon the niorwe, 
 
 That he had met the dreme, as I you told. 
 
 Womennes conseiles ben ful often cold; 
 
 Womannes conseil brought us first to wo, 
 
 And made Adam fro paradis to go, 
 
 Ther as he was ful mery, and wel at ese. 
 
 But for T n'ot, to whom I might displese, 
 
 If I conseil of women wolde blame, 
 
 Passe over, for I said it in my game. 
 
 Rede auctours,wherthey trete of swiche matere, 
 
 And what they sayn of women ye mown here. 
 
 Thise ben the Cokkes wordes, and not mine; 
 
 I can non harme of no woman devine. 
 
 Faire in the sond, to bath hire merily, 
 Lith Pertelote, and all hire susters by.
 
 THE NONNES PREESTES TALE. 195 
 
 Agein the sonne, and Chaunteclere so free 
 Sang nierier than the Mermaid in the see, 
 For Phisiologus sayth sikerly, 
 How that they singen wel and merily. 
 
 And so befell that as he cast his eye 
 Among the wortes on a boterflie, 
 He was ware of this fox that lay fnl low. 
 Nothing ne list him thanne for to crow, , 
 But cried anon cok, cok, and up he sterte, 
 As man that was atfraied in his herte. 
 For naturelly a beest desireth flee 
 Fro his contrarie, if he may it see, 
 Though he never erst had seen it with his eye. 
 
 This Chaunteclere, whan he gan him espie. 
 He wold han fled, but that the fox anon 
 Said; gentil sire, alas! what wol ye don? 
 Be ye affraid of me that am your frend ? 
 Now certes, I were werse than any fend. 
 If I to you wold harme or vilanie. 
 I n'am not come your conseil to espie. 
 But trewely the cause of my coming 
 Was only for to herken how ye sing: 
 For trewely ye han as mery a steven. 
 As any angel hath, that is in heven; 
 Therwith ye han of musike more feling. 
 Than had Boece, or any that can sing. 
 My lord your fader (God his soule blesse) 
 And eke your moder of hire gentillesse 
 Han in niyn hous yben, to my gret ese: 
 And certes, sire, ful fain wold I you plese. 
 But for men speke of singing, T wol sey. 
 So mote I brouken wel min eyen twey, 
 Save you, ne herd T never man so sing, 
 As did your fader in the morwening.
 
 196 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 Certes it was of herte all that he song. 
 
 And for to make his vois the more strong, 
 
 He wold so peine him, that with both his eyen 
 
 He muste winke, so loud he wolde erien, 
 
 And stonden on his tiptoon therwithal. 
 
 And stretehen forth his necke long and snial. 
 
 And eke he was of swiche discretion, 
 
 That ther n'as no man in no region. 
 
 That him in song or wisdom mighte passe. 
 
 I have wel red in dan Burnel the asse 
 
 Among his vers, how that ther was a cok. 
 
 That, for a preestes sone yave him a knok 
 
 Upon his leg, while he was yonge and nice, 
 
 He made him for to lese his benefice. 
 
 But certain ther is no comparison 
 
 Betwix the wisdom and discretion 
 
 Of youre fader, and his subtilitee. 
 
 Now singeth, sire, for Seinte Charitee, 
 
 Let see, can ye your fader contrefete? 
 
 This Chaunteclere his winges gan to bete. 
 As man that coud not his treson espie, 
 So was he ravished with his flaterie. 
 
 Alas ! ye lordes, many a false flatour 
 Is in your court, and many a losengeour, 
 That pleseth you wel more, by my faith. 
 Than he that sothfastnesse unto you saith. 
 Redeth Ecclesiast of flaterie, 
 Beth ware, ye lordes, of hire trecherie. 
 
 This Chaunteclere stood high upon his toos 
 Stretching his necke, and held his eyen cloos. 
 And gan to crowen loude for the nones : 
 And dan Russel the fox stert up at ones. 
 And by the gargat hente Chaunteclere, 
 And on his back toward the wood him here.
 
 THE NONNES PREESTES TALE. 197 
 
 Icor yet ne was ther no man that him sued. 
 
 O destinee, that maist not ben eschued ! 
 Alas, that Chaunteclere flew fro the hemes ! 
 Alas, his wif ne ranghte not of dremes! 
 And on a Friday fell all this meschance. 
 
 O Venus, that art goddesse of plesance. 
 Sin that thy servant was this Chaunteclere, 
 And in thy service did all his powere, 
 More for delit, than world to multiplie. 
 Why wolt thou suftre him on thy day to die? 
 
 O Gaufride, dere maister soverain, 
 That, whan thy worthy king Richard was slain 
 With shot, complainedest his deth so sore. 
 Why ne had I now thy science and thy lore. 
 The Friday for to chiden, as did ye? 
 (For on a Friday sothly slain was he) 
 Than wold I shew you how that I coud plaine. 
 For Chauntecleres drede, and for his paine. 
 
 Certes swiche cry, ne lamentation 
 N'as never of ladies made, whan Ilion 
 Was wonne, and Pirrus with his streite swerd 
 Whan he had hent king Priam by the herd. 
 And slain him, (as saith us Eneidos) 
 As maden all the hennes in the cloos, 
 Whan they had seen of Chaunteclere the sight. 
 But soverainly dame Pertelote shright, 
 Ful louder than did Hasdruballes wif. 
 Whan that hire husbond hadde ylost his lif. 
 And that the Romaines hadden brent Cartage, 
 She was so ful of turment and of rage. 
 That wilfully into the fire she sterte, 
 And brent hireselven with a stedfast herte. 
 
 O woful hennes, right so criden ye, 
 As, whan that Nero brente the citee 
 
 VOL. IL s
 
 198 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 Of Rome, cried the senatoures wives, 
 For that hir husbonds losten alle hir lives; 
 Withouten gilt this Nero hath hem slain. 
 
 Now wol I turiie unto my tale again. 
 The sely widewe, and hire dough tren two, 
 Herden thise hennes crie and maken wo. 
 And out at the dores sterten they anon, 
 And saw the fox toward the wode is gon. 
 And bare upon his back the cok away : 
 They crieden, out! harow and wala wa! 
 A ha the fox ! and after him they ran, 
 And eke with staves many another man; 
 Ran Colle our dogge, and Talbot, and Gerlond, 
 And Malkin, with hire distaf in hire bond; 
 Ran cow and calf, and eke the veray hogges 
 So fered were for berking of the dogges. 
 And shouting of the men and women eke. 
 They ronnen so, hem thought hir hertes breke. 
 They yjUeden as fendes don in helle : 
 The dokes crieden as men wold hem quelle : 
 The gees for fere flewen over the trees. 
 Out of the hive came the swarme of bees, 
 So hidous was the noise, a henedicite! 
 Certes he Jakke Straw, and his meinie, 
 Ne maden never shoutes half so shrille, 
 Whan that they wolden any Fleming kille. 
 As thilke day was made upon the fox. 
 Of bras they broughten beemes and of box. 
 Of horn and bone, in which they blew and pouped, 
 And therwithal they shriked and they houped; 
 It semed, as that the heven shulde falle. 
 
 Now, goode men, I pray you herkeneth alle; 
 Lo, how fortune turneth sodenly 
 The hope and pride eke of hire enemy.
 
 THE NONNES PREESTES TALE. 199 
 
 This cok that lay upon the foxes bake, 
 In all his diede, unto the fox he spake. 
 And sayde ; sire, if that I were as ye, 
 Yet wolde I sayn, (as wisly God helpe me) 
 Turneth agein, ye proude cherles alle; 
 A veray pestilence upon you falle. 
 Now am I come unto the wodes side, 
 Maugre your hed, the cok shal here abide; 
 I wol him ete in faith, and that anon. 
 
 The fox answered, in faith it shal be don: 
 And as he spake the word, al spdenly 
 The cok brake from his mouth deliverly, 
 And high upon a tree he flew anon. 
 
 And whan the fox saw that the cok was gon, 
 Alas ! quod he, o Chaunteclere, alas ! 
 I have (quod he) ydon to you trespas. 
 In as moche as I maked you aferd. 
 Whan I you hente, and brought out of your yevd ; 
 But, sire, I did it in no wikke entente: 
 Come doun, and I shal tell you what I mente. 
 I shal say sothe to you, God helpe me so. 
 
 Nay than, quod he, I shrewe us bothe two. 
 And tirst I shrewe myself, bothe blood and bones, 
 If thou begile me oftener than ones. 
 Thou shalt no more thurgh thy flaterie 
 Do me to sing and winken with niyn eye. 
 For he that winketh, whan he shulde see, 
 Al wilfully, God let him never the. 
 
 Nay , quod the fox,butGod yeve him meschance. 
 That is so indiscrete of governance, 
 That jangleth, whan that he shuld hold his pees. 
 
 Lo, which it is for to be reccheles 
 And negligent, and trust on flaterie. 
 But ye that holden this tale a folic.
 
 200 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 As of a fox, or of a cok, or hen, 
 Taketh the moralitee therof, good men. 
 For Seint Poule sayth, That all that writen is. 
 To our doctrine it is ywritten ywis. 
 Taketh the fruit, and let the chaf be stille. 
 Now, goode God, if that it be thy wille, 
 As sayth ray Lord, so make us all good men; 
 And bring us to thy highe blisse. Amen. 
 
 Sire Nonnes Preest, our hoste sayd anon, 
 Yblessed be thy breche and every ston; 
 This was a mery tale of Chaunteclere. 
 But by my trouthe, if thou were seeulere. 
 Thou woldest ben a tredefoule a right: 
 For if thou have corage as thou hast might. 
 Thee were nede of hennes, as I wene, 
 Ye mo than seven times seventene. 
 Se, whiche braunes hath this gentil preest. 
 So gret a necke, and swiche a large breest ! 
 He loketh as a sparhauk with his eyen ; 
 Him nedeth not his colour for to dien 
 With Brasil, ne with grain of Portingale. 
 
 But, sire, faire falle you for your tale. 
 And after that, he with ful mery chere 
 Sayd to another, as ye shulen here. 
 
 a ***** 
 
 THE SECOND NONNES TALE. 
 
 The ministre and the norice unto vices. 
 Which that men clepe in English ideJnesse, 
 That porter at the gate is of delices.
 
 THE SECOND NONNES TALE. 201 
 
 To eschuen, and by hire contrary hire oppresse. 
 
 That is to sain, by leful besinesse, 
 
 Wei oiighte we to don al our entente, 
 
 Lest that the fend thiirgh idehiesse us hente. 
 
 For he that with his thousand cordes slie 
 Continuelly us waiteth to beclappe. 
 Whan he may man in idelnesse espie. 
 He can so lightly cacche him in his trappe, 
 Til that a man be hent right by the lappe. 
 He n'is not ware the fend hath him in hond: 
 Wei ought us werche, and idelnesse withstond. 
 
 And though men dradden never for to die. 
 Yet see men wel by reson doiiteles. 
 That idelnesse is rote of slogardie. 
 Of which ther never cometh no good encrees. 
 And see that slouthe holdeth hem in a lees. 
 Only to slepe, and for to ete and drinke. 
 And to devouren all that other swinke. 
 
 And for to put us from swiche idelnesse. 
 That cause is of so gret confusion, 
 I have here don my feithful besinesse 
 After the Legende in translation 
 Right of thy glorious lif and passion. 
 Thou with thy gerlond, wrought of rose and lilie, 
 Thee mene I, maid and martir Seinte Cecilie. 
 
 And thou, that arte floure of virgines all. 
 Of whom that Bernard list so wel to write. 
 To thee at my beginning first I call, 
 Thou comfort of us wretches, do me endite 
 Thy maidens deth, that wan thurgh hire merite 
 The eternal lif, and over the fend victorie, 
 As man may after reden in hire storie. 
 
 S 2
 
 202 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 Thou maide and mother, doughter of thy son, 
 Thou well of mercy, sinful soules cure. 
 In whom that God of bountee chees to won; 
 Thou humble and high over every creature, 
 Thou nobledest so fer forth our nature, 
 That no desdaine the maker had of kinde 
 His son in blood and flesh to clothe and wiude. 
 
 Within the cloystre blisful of thy sides, 
 Toke mannes shape the eternal love and pees, 
 That of the trine compas Lord and gide is, 
 Whom erthe, and see, and heven out of relees 
 Ay herien; and thou, virgine wemmeles. 
 Bare of thy body (and dweltest maiden pure) 
 The creatour of every creature. 
 
 Assembled is in thee magnificence 
 With mercy, goodnesse, and with swiche pitee, 
 That thou, that art the sonne of excellence. 
 Not only helpest hem that praien thee. 
 But oftentime of thy benignitee 
 Ful freely, or that men thin helpe beseche. 
 Thou goest beforne, and art hir lives leche. 
 
 Now helpe, thou meke and blisful faire maide, 
 Me fleraed wretch, in this desert of galle; 
 Thinke on the woman Cananee, that saide 
 That whelpes eten som of the cromes alle 
 That from hir Lordes table ben yfalle; 
 And though that I, unworthy sone of Eve, 
 Be sinful, yet accepteth my beleve. 
 
 And for that feith is ded withouten vs^erkes. 
 So for to werken yeve me wit and space. 
 That I be quit from thennes that most derke is; 
 O thou, that art so faire and ful of grace. 
 Be thou min advocat in that high place,
 
 THE SECOND NONNES TALE. 203 
 
 Ther as withouten eiide is songe Osanne, 
 Thou Cristes mother, doughter dere of Anne. 
 
 And of thy light my soule in prison light, 
 That troubled is by the contagion 
 Of my body, and also by the wight 
 Of erthly lust, and false aftection : 
 O haven of refute, o salvation 
 Of hem that ben in sorwe and in distresse. 
 Now help, for to my werk 1 wol me dresse. 
 
 Yet pray I you that reden that I write, 
 Foryeve me, that I do no diligence 
 This ilke storie subtilly to endite. 
 For both have I the wordes and sentence 
 Of him, that at the seintes reverence 
 The storie wrote, and folowed hire legende, 
 And pray you that ye wol my werk amende. 
 
 First wol I you the name of Seinte Cecilie 
 Expoune, as men may in hire storie see: 
 It is to sayn in English, Hevens lilie, 
 For pure chastnesse of virginitee. 
 Or for she whitnesse had of honestee. 
 And grene of conscience, and of good fame 
 The swote savour, Lilie was hire name. 
 
 Or Cecilie is to sayn, the way to blinde. 
 For she ensample was by good teching; 
 Or elles Cecilie, as I writen finde. 
 Is joined by a maner conjoining 
 Of heven and Lia, and here in figuring 
 The heven is set for thought of holinesse. 
 And Lia, for hire lasting besinesse. 
 
 Cecilie may eke be sayd in this maiiere, 
 Wanting of blindnesse, for hire grete light
 
 204 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 Of sapience, and for hire thewes clere. 
 
 Or elles lo, this maidens name bright 
 
 Of heven and Leos cometh, for which by right 
 
 Men might hire wel the heven of peple calle, 
 
 Ensample of good and wise werkes alle : 
 
 For Leos peple in English is to say; 
 And right as men may in the heven see 
 The Sonne and mone, and sterres every way, 
 Right so men gostly, in this maiden free 
 Sawen of faith the magnaniraitee, 
 And eke the clerenesse hole of sapience, 
 And sondry werkes, bright of excellence. 
 
 And right so as thise Philosophres write, 
 That heven is swift and round, and eke brenning, 
 Right so was faire Cecilie the white 
 Ful swift and besy in every good werking, 
 And round and hole in good persevering, 
 And brenning ever in charitee ful bright: 
 Now have I you declared what she hight. 
 
 This maiden bright Cecile, as hire lif saith. 
 Was come of Romaines and of noble kind. 
 And from hire cradle fostred in the faith 
 Of Crist, and bare his Gospel in hire mind: 
 She never cesed, as I writen find. 
 Of hire prayere, and God to love and drede, 
 Beseching him to kepe hire raaidenhede. 
 
 And whan this maiden shuld until a man 
 Ywedded be, that was ful yonge of age. 
 Which that ycleped was Valerian, 
 And day was comen of hire marriage. 
 She ful devout and humble in hire corage. 
 Under hire robe of gold, that sat ful faire, 
 Had next hire flesh yclad hire in an haire.
 
 THE SECOND NONNES TALE. 20o 
 
 And while that the organs maden melodic, 
 To God alone thus in hire hert song she; 
 O Lord, my soule and eke my body gie 
 Unwemmed, lest that I confounded be. 
 And for his love that died upon the tree, 
 Every second or thridde day she fast. 
 Ay bidding in hire orisons ful fast. 
 
 The night came, and to bedde must she gon 
 "With hire husbond, as it is the manere. 
 And prively she said to him anon; 
 
 swete and vvel beloved spouse dere, 
 Ther is a conseil, and ye wol it here, 
 Which that right fayn I wold unto you saie. 
 So that ye swere, ye wol it not bewraie. 
 
 Valerian gan fast unto hire swere. 
 That for no cas, ne thing that mighte be. 
 He shulde never to non bewraien here; 
 And than at erst thus to him saide she; 
 
 1 have an Angel which that loveth me. 
 That with gret love, wher so I wake or slepe, 
 Is redy ay my body for to kepe ; 
 
 And if that he may felen out of drede, 
 That ye me touch or love in vilanie, 
 He right anon wol sleen you with the dede. 
 And in your youthe thus ye shulden die. 
 And if that ye in clene love me gie. 
 He wol you love as me, for your clenenesse. 
 And shew to you his joye and his brightnesse. 
 
 This Valerian, corrected as God wold, 
 Answerd again, if I shal trusten thee, 
 TiCt me that angel seen, and him behold; 
 And if that it a veray angel be. 
 Than wol I don as thou hast prayed me;
 
 •206 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 And if thou love another man, forsothe 
 
 Right with this swerd than wol I slee you bothe. 
 
 Cecile an swerd anon right in this wise; 
 If that you list, the angel shul ye see. 
 So that ye trowe on Crist, and you baptise; 
 Goth forth to Via Apia (quod she) 
 That fro this toun ne stant but miles three. 
 And to the poure folkes that ther dwellen 
 Say hem right thus, as that I shal you tellen. 
 
 Tell hem, that I Cecile you to hem sent 
 To shewen you the good Urban the old. 
 For secree nedes, and for good entent; 
 An whan that ye Seint Urban han behold. 
 Tell him the wordes whiche I to you told; 
 And whan that he hath purged you fro sinne, 
 Than shal ye seen that angel er ye twinne. 
 
 Valerian is to the place gon, 
 And right as he was taught by hire lerning, 
 He fond this holy old Urban anon 
 Among the seintes buriels louting: 
 And he anon withouten tarying 
 Did his message, and whan that he it tolde, 
 Urban for joye his hondes gan upholde. 
 
 The teres from his eyen let he falle ; 
 Almighty Lord, o Jesu Crist, quod he, 
 Sower of chast conseil, hierde of us alle. 
 The fruit of thilke seed of chastitee 
 That thou hast sow in Cecile, take to thee : 
 Lo, like a besy bee withouten gile 
 Thee serveth ay thin owen thral Cecile. 
 
 For thilke spouse, that she toke but newe 
 Ful like a fiers leon, she sendeth here
 
 THE SECOND NONNES TALE. 207 
 
 As meke as ever was any lambe to ewe. 
 And with that word anon ther gan apere 
 An old man, clad in white clothes clere, 
 That had a book with lettres of gold in hond, 
 And gan beforne Valerian to stond. 
 
 "Valerian, as ded, fell doiin for drede, 
 Whan he him saw; and he up hent him tho. 
 And on his book right thus he gan to rede; 
 On Lord, on faith, on God withouten mo, 
 On Cristendom, and fader of all also 
 Aboven all, and over all every wher: 
 Thise wordes all with gold ywriten were. 
 
 Whan this was red, than said this oldo man, 
 Levest thou this thing or no? say ye or nay. 
 I leve all this thing, quod Valerian, 
 For sother thing than this, I dare wel say. 
 Under the heven no wight thinken may. 
 Tho vanished the olde man, he n'iste wher, 
 And pope Urban him cristened right ther. 
 
 Valerian goth home, and fint Cecilie 
 Within his chambre with an angel stonde: 
 This angel had of roses and of lilie 
 Corones two, the which he bare in honde. 
 And first to Cecile, as 1 understonde. 
 He yaf that on, and after gan he take 
 That other to Valerian hire make. 
 
 With body clene, and with unwemmed thought 
 Kepeth ay wel thise corones two, quod he. 
 From paradis to you I have hem brought, 
 Ne never mo ne shul they roten be, 
 Ne lese hir swete savour, trusteth me, 
 Ne never wight sha! seen hem with his eye, 
 But he be chaste, and hate vilauie.
 
 208 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 And thou, Valerian, for thou so sone 
 Assentedest to good conseil, also 
 Say what thee list, and thou shalt han thy bone. 
 I have a brother, quod Valerian tho. 
 That in this world I love no man so, 
 I pray you that my brother may have grace 
 To know the trouth, as I do in this place. 
 
 The angel sayd ; God liketh thy request, 
 And bothe with the palme of martirdome 
 Ye shullen come unto his blisful rest. 
 And with that word, Tiburce his brother come. 
 And whan that he the savour undernome, 
 Which that the roses and the lilies cast, 
 Within his herte he gan to wonder fast. 
 
 And said; I wonder this time of the yere 
 Whennes that swete savour cometh so 
 Of roses and lilies, that I smelle here; 
 For though I had hem in min hondes two, 
 The savour might in me no deper go: 
 The swete smel, that in min herte I find. 
 Hath changed me all in another kind. 
 
 Valerian saide; two corones han we 
 Snow-white and rose-red, that shinen clere. 
 Which that thin eyen han no might to see: 
 And as thou smellest hem thurgh my praiere, 
 So shalt thou seen hem, leve brother dere, 
 If it so be thou wolt withouten slouthe 
 Beleve aright, and know the veray trouthe. 
 
 Tiburce answered; saiest thou this to me 
 In sothnesse, or in dreme herken I this? 
 In dremes, quod Valerian, han we be 
 Unto this time, brother min, ywis : 
 But now at erst in trouthe our dwelling is.
 
 THE SECOND NONNES TALE, 209 
 
 How wost thou this, quod Tiburce, in what wise? 
 Quod Valerian ; that shal I thee devise. 
 
 The angel of God hath me the trouth ytaught. 
 Which thou shalt seen, if that thou wilt reney 
 The idoles, and be clene, and elles naught. 
 [And of the miracle of thise corones twey 
 Seint Ambrose in his preface list to sey; 
 Solempnely this noble doctour dere 
 Coniniendeth it, and saith in this manere. 
 
 The palnie of martirdome for to receive, 
 Seinte Cecilie, fulfilled of Goddes yeft. 
 The world and eke hire charabre gan she weivc ; 
 Witnesse Tiburces and Ceciles shrift, 
 To which God of his bountee w olde shift 
 Corones two, of floures wel smelling, 
 And made his angel hem the corones bring. 
 
 The maid hath brought thise men to blisso above ; 
 The world hath wist what it is worth certain 
 Devotion of chastitee to love.] 
 Tho shewed him Cecile all open and plain. 
 That all idoles n'is but a thing in vain, 
 For they ben dombe, and therto they ben deve. 
 And charged him his idoles for to leve. 
 
 Who so that troweth not this, a best he is, 
 Quod this Tiburce, if that I shal not lie. 
 And she gan kisse his brest whan she herd this. 
 And was ful glad he coude trouth espie: 
 This day I take thee for min allie, 
 Saide this blisful faire maiden dere; 
 And after that she said as ye may here. 
 
 Lo, right so as the love of Crist (quod she) 
 Made nie thy brothers wif, right in that wise 
 
 VOL. II. T
 
 210 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 Anon for mine allie here take I thee, 
 Sithen that thou wolt thin idoles despise. 
 Goth with thy brother now and thee baptise. 
 And make thee dene, so that thou maist behold 
 The angels face, of which thy brother told. 
 
 Tiburce answered, and saide; brother dere. 
 First tell me whither I shal, and to what man. 
 To whom ? quod he ; come forth with goode chere, 
 I wol thee lede unto the pope Urban. 
 To Urban? brother min Valerian, 
 Quod tho Tiburce, wilt thou me thider lede? 
 Me thinketh that it were a wonder dede. 
 
 Ne menest thou not Urban (quod he tho) 
 That is so often damned to be ded, 
 And woneth in halkes alway to and fro. 
 And dare not ones putten forth his hed? 
 Men shuld him brennen in a fire so red, 
 If he were found, or that men might him spie. 
 And we also, to here him corapagnie. 
 
 And while we seken thilke divinitee, 
 That is yhid in heven prively, 
 Algate ybrent in this world shuld we be. 
 To whom Cecile answered boldely; 
 Men mighten dreden wel and skilfully 
 This lif to lese, min owen dere brother, 
 If this were liviiig only and nou other. 
 
 But ther is better lif in other place, 
 That never shal be lost, ne drede thee nought: 
 Which Goddes sone us tolde thurgh his grace. 
 That fadres sone which alle thinges wrought; 
 And all that wrought is with a skilful thought. 
 The gost, that from the fader gan precede. 
 Hath souled hem withoutcn any drede.
 
 THE SECOND NONNES TALE. 211 
 
 By word and by miracle he Goddes sone, 
 Whan he was in this world, declared here, 
 That ther is other lif ther men may wone. 
 To whom answerd Tiburce; o suster dere, 
 Ne saidest thou right now in this manere, 
 Ther n'as but o God, lord in sothfastnesse. 
 And now of three how mayst thou bere witnessc ? 
 
 That shal 1 tell, quod she, or that I go. 
 Right as a man hath sapiences three, 
 Memorie, engine, and intellect also. 
 So in o being of divinitee 
 Three persones mowen ther righte wel be. 
 Tho gan she him ful besily to preche 
 Of Cristes sonde, and of his peines teche. 
 
 And many pointes of his passion; 
 How Goddes sone in this world was withhold 
 To don maokinde pleine remission. 
 That was ybound in sinne and cares cold. 
 All this thing she unto Tiburce told. 
 And after this Tiburce in good entent, 
 With Valerian to pope Urban he went. 
 
 That thanked God, and with glad herte and light 
 He cristened him, and made him in that place 
 Parfite in his lerning and Goddes knight. 
 And after this Tiburce gat swiche grace. 
 That every day he saw in time and space 
 The angel of God, and every maner bone 
 That he God axed, it was sped ful sone. 
 
 It were ful hard by ordre for to sain 
 How many wonders Jesus for hem wrought. 
 But at the last, to tellen short and plain, 
 The sergeaunts of the toun of Home hem sought.
 
 212 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 And hem before Alniaclie the prefect brought. 
 Which hem apposed, and knew all hire entent, 
 And to the image of Jupiter hem sent; 
 
 And said; who so wol nought do sacrifice, 
 Swap of his hed, this is ray sentence here. 
 Anon thise martyrs, that I you devise, 
 On Maximus, that was an ofEcere 
 Of the prefectes, and his corniculere. 
 Hem hent, and whan he forth the seintes lad. 
 Himself he wept for pitee that he had. 
 
 Whan Maximus had herd the seintes lore, 
 He gate him of the turmentoures leve, 
 And lad hem to his hous withouten more; 
 And with hir preching, or that it were eve, 
 They gonnen fro the turmentours to reve, 
 And fro Maxime, and fro his folk eche on 
 The false faith, to trowe in God alone. 
 
 Cecilie came, whan it was waxen night, 
 With preestes, that hem cristened all yfere; 
 And afterward, whan day was waxen light, 
 Cecilie hem said with a ful stedfast cliere; 
 Now, Cristas owen knightes leve and dere, 
 Caste all away the werkes of derkenesse. 
 And armeth you in armes of brightnesse. 
 
 Ye han forsoth ydon a gret bataille ; 
 Your cours is don, your faith han ye conserved; 
 Goth to the croune of lif that may not faille; 
 The rightful juge, which that ye han served, 
 Shal yeve it you, as ye han it deserved. 
 And whan this thing was said, as I devise, 
 Men ledde hem forth to don the sacrifice.
 
 THE SECOND NONNES TALE, 213 
 
 But whan they weren to the place ybrought. 
 To tellen shortly the conclusioun, 
 They n'olde encense, ne sacrifice right nought, 
 But on hir knees they setten hem adoun, 
 With humble herte and sad devotioun, 
 And losten bothe hir hedes in the place; 
 Hir soules wenten to the king of grace. 
 
 This Maximus, that saw this thing betide, 
 With pitous teres told it anon right, 
 That he hir soules saw to heven glide 
 With angels, ful of clerenesse and of light; 
 And with his word converted many a wight. 
 For which Almachius did him to-bete 
 With whip of led, til he his lif gan lete. 
 
 Cecile him toke, and buried him anon 
 By Tiburce and Valerian softely, 
 Within hir burying place, under the ston. 
 And after this Almachius hastily 
 Bad his ministres fetchen openly 
 Cecile, so that she might in his presence 
 Don sacrifice, and Jupiter encense. 
 
 But they converted at hire wise lore 
 Wepten ful sore, and yaven ful credence 
 Unto hire word, and crieden more and more; 
 Crist, Goddes sone, withouten difference 
 Is veray God, this is all our sentence, 
 That hath so good a servant him to serve: 
 Thus with o vois we trowen though we sterve. 
 
 Almachius, that herd of this doing. 
 Bad fetchen Cecile, that he might hire see : 
 And alderfirst, lo, this was his axing; 
 What maner woman arte thou? quod he. 
 
 T 2
 
 214 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 I am a gentiiwoman borne, quod she. 
 
 I axe thee, quod he, though it thee greve, 
 
 Of thy reUgion and of thy beleve. 
 
 Why than began your question folily, 
 Quod she, that woldest two answers conclude 
 In o demand? ye axen lewedly. 
 Almache answerd to that similitude. 
 Of whennes cometh thin answering so rude? 
 Ofwhennes? (quod she, whan that she was freined) 
 Of conscience, and of good faith unfeined. 
 
 Almachius said; ne takest thou non hede 
 Of my power? and she him answerd this; 
 Your might (quod she) ful litel is to drede; 
 For every mortal mannes power n'is 
 But like a bladder ful of wind ywis : 
 For with a nedles point, whan it is blow. 
 May all the bost of it be laid ful low. 
 
 Ful wrongfully begonnest thou, (quod he) 
 And yet in wrong is al thy perseverance: 
 Wost thou not how our mighty princes free 
 Have thus commanded and made ordinance, 
 That every cristen wight shal han penance 
 But if that he his Cristendorae withseye. 
 And gon al quite, if he wol it reneye? 
 
 Your princes erren, as your nobley doth. 
 Quod tho Cecile, and with a wood sentence 
 Ye make us gilty, and it is not soth: 
 For ye that knowen wel our innocence. 
 For as raoche as we don ay reverence 
 To Crist, and for we bere a Cristen name, 
 Ye put on us a crime and eke a blame. 
 
 But we that knowen thilke name so 
 Fpr vertuous, we may it not withseye.
 
 THE SECOND NONNES TALE. 215 
 
 Almache answered; chese on of thise two, 
 Do sacrifice, or Cristendom reneye. 
 That thou mow now escapen by that wey. 
 At which this holy bhsful fayre maid 
 Gan for to laughe, and to the juge said: 
 
 O juge confuse in thy nicetee, 
 W oldest thou that I reneye innocence? 
 To maken me a wicked wight (quod she) 
 Lo, he dissimuleth here in audience. 
 He stareth and wodeth in his advertence. 
 To whom Almachius said; Unsely wretch, 
 Ne wost thou not how far my might may stretch ? 
 
 Han not our mighty princes to me yeven 
 Ya bothe power and eke auctoritee 
 To maken folk to dien or to liven? 
 Why spekest thou so proudly than to me? 
 I ne speke nought but stedfastly, quod she. 
 Not proudely, for I say, as for my side. 
 We haten dedly thilke vice of pride. 
 
 And if thou drede not a soth for to here, 
 Than wol I shewe al openly by right, 
 That thou hast made a ful gret lesing here. 
 Thou saist, thy princes han thee yeven might 
 Both for to slee and for to quicken a wight, 
 Thou that ne maist but only lif bereve. 
 Thou hast non other power ne no leve. 
 
 But thou maist sayn, thy princes han thee maked 
 Ministre of deth; for if thou speke of mo. 
 Thou liest; for thy power is ful naked. 
 Do way thy boldnesse, said Almachius tho. 
 And sacrifice to our goddes, er thou go. 
 I recke not what wrong that thou me proflre, 
 For I can sufFre it as a philosophre.
 
 216 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 But thilke wronges may I not endure, 
 That thou spekest of our goddes here, quod he. 
 Cecile answerd; o nice creature. 
 Thou saidest no word sin thou spake to me. 
 That I ne knew therwith thy nicetee. 
 And that thou were in every maner wise 
 A lewed officer, a vain justice. 
 
 Ther lacketh nothing to thin utter eyen 
 That thou n'art bhnd; for thing that we seen alio 
 That is a stoo, that men may wel espien, 
 That ilke ston a god thou wolt it calle. 
 I rede thee let thin hond upon it falle, 
 And tast it wel, and ston thou shalt it find. 
 Sin that thou seest not with thin eyen blind. 
 
 It is a shame that the peple shal 
 So scornen thee, and laugh at thy folic: 
 For comunly men wot it wel over al. 
 That mighty God is in his hevens hie; 
 And thise images, wel maist thou espie, 
 To thee ne to hemself may not profite. 
 For in effect they be not worth a mite. 
 
 Thise and swiche other wordes saide she. 
 And he wex wroth, and bade men shuld hire lede 
 Home til hire house, and in hire hous (quod he) 
 Brenne hire right in a bath, with flames rede. 
 And as he bade, right so was don the dede; 
 For in a bathe they gonne hire faste shetten. 
 And night and day gret fire they under betten. 
 
 The longe night, and eke a day also. 
 For all the fire, and eke the bathes hete. 
 She sate al cold, and felt of it no wo. 
 It madij hire not a drope for to swete :
 
 THE SECOND NONNES TALE. 217 
 
 But in that bath hire lif she muste lete. 
 For he Alraache, with a ful wicke entent, 
 To sleen hire in the bath his sonde sent. 
 
 Three strokes in the nekke he smote hire tho 
 The turmentour, but for no uianer chance 
 He mishte not smite all hire nekke atwo : 
 And for ther was that tmie an ordmance 
 That no man shulde don man swiche penance, 
 The fourthe stroke to smiten, soft or sore, 
 This tumentour ne dorste do no more; 
 
 But half ded, with hire nekke ycorven ther 
 He left hire lie, and on his way is went. 
 The cristen folk, which that about hire were, 
 With shetes han the blood ful faire yhent: 
 Three dayes lived she in this turment, 
 And never cesed hem the faith to teche. 
 That she had fostred hem, she gan to preche. 
 
 And hem she yaf hire mebles and hire thing, 
 And to the pope Urban betoke hem tho. 
 And said; I axed this of heven king, 
 To have respit three dayes and no mo, ■ 
 To recommend to you, or that I go, 
 Thise soules lo, and that I might do werche 
 Here of min hous perpetuellich a cherche. 
 
 Seint Urban, with his dekenes prively 
 The body fette, and buried it by night 
 Among his other seintes honestly: 
 Hire hous the cherche of seinte Cecile hight; 
 Seint Urban halowed it, as he wel might. 
 In which unto this day in noble wise 
 Meq don to Crist and to his seinte servise.
 
 218 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 THE 
 
 CHANONES YEMANNES PROLOGUE. 
 
 Whan that tolde was the lif of seinte Cecile, 
 
 Er we had ridden fully five mile. 
 
 At Boughton under blee us gan atake 
 
 A man, that clothed was in clothes blake, 
 
 And undernethe he wered a white surplis. 
 
 His hakeney, which that was al pomelee gris, 
 
 So swatte, that it wonder was to see. 
 
 It semed as he had priked miles three. 
 
 The horse eke that his yeman rode upon, 
 
 So swatte, that unnethes might he gon. 
 
 About the peytrel stood the fome ful hie, 
 
 He was of fome as flecked as a pie. 
 
 A male tweifold on his croper lay, 
 
 It semed that he caried litel array, 
 
 Al light for sommer rode this worthy man. 
 
 And in my herte wondren I began 
 
 What that he was, til that I understode, 
 
 Hov/ that his cloke was sowed to his hode; 
 
 For which whan I had long avised me, 
 
 I demed hjm some chanon for to be. 
 
 His hat heng at his back doun by a las. 
 
 For he had ridden more than trot or pas. 
 
 He had ay priked like as he were wode. 
 
 A clote-lefe he had laid under his hode 
 
 For swete, and for to kepe his hed fro hete. 
 
 But it was joye for to seen him swete; 
 
 His forehed dropped, as a stillatorie 
 
 Were ful of plantaine or of paritorie. 
 
 And whan that he was come, he gan to crie, 
 
 God save (quod he) this joly compagnie.
 
 THE CHANONES YEMANNES PROLOGUE. 219 
 
 Past have I priked (quod he) for your sake, 
 Because that I wolde you atake, 
 To riden in this mery compagnie. 
 
 His yeraan was eke ful of curtesie. 
 And saide; Sires, now in the morwe tide 
 Out of your hostelrie I saw you ride. 
 And warned here my lord and soverain. 
 Which that to riden with you is ful fain, 
 For his disport; he loveth daliauce. [chance, 
 Frend, for thy warning God yeve thee good 
 Than said our hoste ; certain it wolde seme 
 Thy lord were wise, and so I may wel deme; 
 He is ful joconde also dare I leye : 
 Can he ought tell a mery tale or tweie. 
 With which he gladen may this compagnie? 
 
 Who, sire? my lord? Ye, sire, withouten lie. 
 He can of mirth and eke of jolitee 
 Not but ynough; also, sire, trusteth me. 
 And ye him knew al so wel as do T, 
 Ye wolden wondre how wel and craftily 
 He coude werke, and that in sondry wise. 
 He hath take on him many a gret emprise. 
 Which were ful harde for any that is here 
 To bring about, but they of him it lere. 
 As homely as he rideth amonges you. 
 If ye him knew, it wold be for your prow: 
 Ye wolden not forgon his acquaintance 
 For mochel good, 1 dare lay in balance 
 All that I have in my possession. 
 He is a man of high discression, 
 I warne you wel, he is a passing man. 
 
 Wel, quod our hoste, I pray thee tell me than, 
 Is he a clerk, or non? tell what he is. 
 
 Nay, he is greter than a clerk ywis,
 
 220 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 Saide this yeman, and in wordes fewe, 
 Hoste, of his craft somwhat I wol you shewe, 
 
 I say, my lord can swiche a subtiltee, 
 (But all his craft ye moun not wete of me, 
 And somwhat help I yet to his werking) 
 That all the ground on which we ben riding 
 Til that we come to Canterbury toun, 
 He coud al clene turnen up so doun, 
 And pave it all of silver and of gold. 
 
 And whan this yeman had this tale ytolde 
 Unto our hoste, he said; benedicite. 
 This thing is wonder mervaillous to me, 
 Sin that thy lord is of so high prudence. 
 Because of which men shukle him reverence,^ 
 That of his worship rekketh he so lite ; 
 His overest sloppe it is not worth a mite 
 As in eft'ect to him, so mote I go; 
 It is all baudy and to-tore also. 
 Why is thy lord so sluttish I thee preye, 
 And is of power better cloth to beye. 
 If that his dede acorded with thy speche? 
 Telle me that, and that I thee beseche. 
 
 Why? quod this yeman, vvherto axe ye me? 
 God helps me so, for he shal never the : 
 (But I wol not avowen that 1 say, 
 And therfore kepe it secree I you pray) 
 He is to wise in faith, as I beleve. 
 Thing that is overdon, it wol not preve 
 Aright, as clerkes sain, it is a vice; 
 Wherfore in that I hold him lewed and nice. 
 For whan a man hath overgret a wit, 
 Ful oft him happeth to raisusen it: 
 So doth my lord, and that me greveth sore. 
 God it amende, I can say now no more.
 
 THE CHANONES YEMANNES PROLOGUE. 221 
 
 Therof no force, good yeman, quod our host. 
 Sin of the conning of thy lord thou wost, 
 Telle how he doth, I pray thee hertily. 
 Sin that he is so crafty and so sly. 
 Wher dvvellen ye, if it to tellen be? 
 
 In the subarbes of a toun, quod he, 
 Lurking in hemes and in lanes blinde, 
 Wheras thise robbours and thise theves by kinde 
 Holden hir privee fereful residence, 
 As they that dare not shewen hir presence. 
 So faren we, if I shal say the sothe. 
 
 Yet, quod our hoste, let me talken to the; 
 Why art thou so discoloured of thy face? 
 
 Peter, quod he, God yeve it harde grace, 
 I am so used the hote fire to blow. 
 That it hath changed my colour I trow; 
 I n'am not wont in no mirrour to prie. 
 But swinke sore, and lerne to multiplie. 
 We blundren ever, and poren in the fire. 
 And for all that we faille of our desire. 
 For ever we lacken our conclusion. 
 To mochel folk we don illusion. 
 And borwe gold, be it a pound or two. 
 Or ten or twelve, or many somnies mo. 
 And make hem wenen at the leste wey, 
 That of a pound we connen maken twey, 
 Yet is it false; and ay we han good hope 
 It for to don, and after it we grope: 
 But that science is so fer us beforne. 
 We mowen not, although we had it sworne. 
 It overtake, it slit away so fast; 
 It wol us maken beggers at the last. 
 
 While this yeman was thus in his talking. 
 This Chanon drow him nere, and herd all thing 
 VOL. II. u
 
 222 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 Which this yeman spake, for suspecioii 
 Of niennes speche ever had this Chanou: 
 For Caton sayth, that he that gilty is, 
 Denieth all thing be spoken of him ywis: 
 That was the cause, he gan so nigh him drawe 
 To his yeman, to herken all his sawe, 
 And thus he saide unto his yeman tho; 
 Hold thou thy pees, and speke no wordes mo: 
 For if thou do, thou shalt it dere abie. 
 Thou sclaundrest me here in this compagnie, 
 And eke discoverest that thou shakiest hide. 
 
 Ye, quod our hoste, tell on, what so betide; 
 Of all his thretening recke not a mite. 
 
 In faith, quod he, no more I do but lite. 
 And whan this Charion saw it wold not be. 
 But his yeman wold tell his privetee. 
 He fled away for veray sorwe and shame. 
 
 A, quod the yeman, here shal rise a game: 
 All that I can anon I wol you telle, 
 Sin he is gon; the foule fend him quelle; 
 For never hereafter wol I with him mete 
 For peny ne for pound, I you behete. 
 He that rae broughte first unto that game, 
 Er that he die, sorwe have he and shame. 
 For it is ernest to me by my faith. 
 That fele I wel, what that any man saith; 
 And yet for all my sraert, and all my grief, 
 For all my sorwe, labour, and meschief, 
 I coude never leve it in no wise. 
 Now wolde God my wit raighte suffice 
 To tellen all that longeth to that art; 
 But natheles, yet wol T tellen part; 
 Sin that my lord is gon, I wol not spare, 
 Swiche thing as that I know, I wol declare.
 
 223 
 
 THE 
 
 CHAN ONES YEMANNES TALE. 
 
 With this Chanoa I dwelt have seven yere, 
 
 And of his science am I never the nere: 
 
 All that I had, I have ylost therby, 
 
 And God wot, so han many mo than I. 
 
 Ther I was wont to be right fresh and gay 
 
 Of clothing, and of other good array. 
 
 Now may I were an hose upon min hed; 
 
 And wher my colour was both fresh and red, 
 
 Now is it wan, and of a leden he we; 
 
 (Who so it useth, so shal he it rewe) 
 
 And of my swinke yet blered is min eye; 
 
 Lo which avantage is to multiplie ! 
 
 That sliding science hath me made so bare. 
 
 That I have no good, wher that ever I farti; 
 
 And yet I am endetted so therby 
 
 Of gold, that I have borwed trewely. 
 
 That while I live, T shal it quiten never; 
 
 Let every man be ware by me for ever. 
 
 What maner man that casteth him therto, 
 
 If he continue, I hold his thrift ydo; 
 
 So help me God, therby shal he nat winne, 
 
 But empte his purse, and make his wittes thinne. 
 
 And whan he, thurgh his madnesse and folie, 
 
 Hath lost his owen good thurgh jupartie. 
 
 Than he exciteth other folk therto, 
 
 To lese hir good as he himself hath do. 
 
 For unto shrewes joye it is and ese 
 
 To have hir felawes in peine and disese. 
 
 Thus was I ones lerned of a clerk; 
 
 Of that no charge; I wol speke of our werk.
 
 224 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 Whan we be ther as we shuln exercise 
 Our elvish craft, we semen wonder wise, 
 Our termes ben so clergiai and queinte. 
 I blow the fire til that myn herte feinte. 
 What shuld I tellen eche proportion 
 Of thinges, whiche that we werchen upon, 
 As on five or six unces, may wel be, 
 Of silver, or som other quantitee? 
 And besie me to tellen you the names, 
 As orpiraent, brent bones, yren squames. 
 That into poudre grounden ben ful snial? 
 And in an erthen pot how put is al, 
 And salt yput in, and also pepere, 
 Beforn thise poudres that I speke of here. 
 And wel ycovered v.ith a lampe of glas? 
 And of moche other thing which that ther was? 
 And of the pottes and glasses engluting. 
 That of the aire might passen out no thing? 
 And of the esy fire, and smert also. 
 Which that was made? and of the care and wo. 
 That we had in our materes subliming. 
 And in amalgaming, and calcening 
 Of quiksilver, ycleped niercurie crude? 
 For all our sleightes we can not conclude. 
 Our orpiment, and sublimed mercuric. 
 Our grounden litarge eke on the porphurie. 
 Of eche of thise of unces a certain • , 
 
 Not helpeth us, our labour is in vain, 
 Ne, neyther our spirites ascentioun, 
 Ne our materes that lien al fix adoun, 
 Mown in our werking nothing us availle; 
 For lost is all our labour and tiavaille. 
 And all the cost a twenty devil way 
 Is lost also, which we upon it lay.
 
 THE CHANONES YEMANNES TALE. 225 
 
 Ther is also ful many another thing, 
 That is unto our craft apperteining, 
 Though I by ordre hem nat reliersen can. 
 Because that I am a levved man, 
 Yet wol I telle hem, as they come to minde, 
 Though I ne cannot set hem in hir kinde. 
 As bole armoniak, verdegrese, boras; 
 And sondry vessels made of erthe and glas, 
 Our urinales, and our descensories, 
 Viols, croslettes, and sublimatories, 
 Cucuribtes, and alembikes eke. 
 And other svviche gere, dere ynough a leke, 
 What nedeth it for to reherse hem alle? 
 Wateres rubifying, and boUes galle, 
 Arsenik, sal armoniak, and brimston? 
 And herbes coude I tell eke many on. 
 As egremoine, valerian, and lunarie. 
 And other svviche, if that me list to tarie; 
 Our lampes brenning bothe night and day. 
 To bring about our craft if that we may; 
 Our fourneis eke of calcination. 
 And of vpateres albification, 
 Unslekked lime, chalk, and gleire of an ey, 
 Poudres divers, ashes, dong, pisse, and clcy, 
 Sered pokettes, sal peter, and vitriole; 
 And divers fires made of vpode and cole; 
 Sal tartre, alcaly, and salt preparat. 
 And combust materes, and coagulat; 
 Cley made with hors and mannes here, and oile 
 Of tartre, alum, glas, berme, wort, and argoile, 
 Hosalgar, and other materes enbibing; 
 And eke of our materes encorporing. 
 And of our silver citrination, 
 Our cementing, and fermentation, 
 
 V 2
 
 226 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 Our ingottes, testes, and many thinges mo. 
 
 I wol you tell as was me taught also 
 The foure spirites, and the bodies seveue 
 By ordre, as oft 1 herd my lord hem nevene. 
 The tirste spirit quiksilver cleped is; 
 The second orpiment; the thridde ywis 
 Sal armoniak, and the fourth brimston. 
 
 The bodies sevene eke, lo hem here anon. 
 Sol gold is, and Luna silver we threpe; 
 Mars iren, Mercurie quiksilver we clepe: 
 Saturnus led, and Jupiter is tin, 
 And Venus coper, by my fader kin. 
 
 This cursed craft who so wol exercise. 
 He shal no good have, that him may suffice, 
 For all the good he spendeth theraboute 
 He lesen shal, therof have I no doute. 
 Who so that listeth uttren his folie, 
 Let him come forth and lernen multiplie : 
 And every man that hath ought in his cofre. 
 Let him appere, and wex a philosophre, 
 Ascaunce that craft is so light to lere. 
 Nay, nay, God wot, al be he monk or frere, 
 Freest or chanon, or any other wight, 
 Though he sit at his book both day and night 
 In lerning of this elvish nice lore, 
 All is in vain, and parde mochel more 
 To lerne a lewed man this subtiltee; 
 Fie, speke not therof, for it wol not be. 
 And conne he letternre, or conne he non, 
 As in effect, he shal finde it all on; 
 For bothe two by my salvation 
 Concluden in multiplication 
 Ylike wel, whan they have all ydo; 
 This is to sain, they failleu bothe two.
 
 THE CHANONES YEMANNES TALE. 227 
 
 Yet forgate I to maken rehersaile 
 Of waters corosif, and of Ihnaile, 
 And of bodies mollification, 
 And also of hir induration, 
 Oiles, ablusions, raetal fusible, 
 To tellen all, wold passen any bible, 
 That o wher is; wherfore as for the best 
 Of all thise names now wol I me rest; 
 For as I trow, I have you told ynow . 
 To reise a fend, al loke he never so row. 
 
 A, nay, let be; the philosophres ston, 
 Elixer cleped, we seken fast eche on, 
 For had we him, than were we siker ynow; 
 But unto God of heven I make avow, 
 For all our craft, whan' we han all ydo, 
 And all our sleight, he wol not come us to. 
 He hath ymade us spenden mochel good. 
 For sorwe of which almost we waxen wood. 
 But that good' hope crepeth in our herte,' 
 Supposing ever, though we sore smerte, 
 To ben releved of him afterward. 
 Swiche supposing and hope is sharpe and hard. 
 I warne you wel it is to seken ever. 
 That future temps hath made men dissever. 
 In trust therof, from all that ever they had, 
 Yet of that art they conne not waxen sad. 
 For unto hem it is a bitter swete ; 
 So semeth it; for ne had they but a shete 
 Which that they might wrappen hem in a-night, 
 And a bratt to walken in by day-light. 
 They wold hem sell, and spend it on this craft; 
 They conne n'bt stinten, til no thing be laft. 
 And evermore, wher ever that they gon, 
 Men may hem kennen by smell of brimston;
 
 228 CANTERBURY TALES, 
 
 For all the world they stinken as a gote; 
 Hir savour is so rammish and so hote, 
 That though a man a mile from hem be, 
 The savour vi^ol enfect him, trusteth me. 
 
 Lo, thus by smelling and thred-bare array. 
 If that men list, this folk they knovven may. 
 And if a man v?ol axe hem prively, 
 Why they be clothed so unthriftily. 
 They right anon vv^ol rounen in his ere. 
 And saien, if that they espied were. 
 Men woide hem sle, because of hir science: 
 Lo, thus thise folk betraien innocence. 
 
 Passe over this, I go my tale unto. 
 Er that the pot be on the fire ydo 
 Of metals with a certain quantitee. 
 My lord hem terapereth, and no man but he; 
 (Now he is gon, I dare say boldely) 
 For as men sain, he can don craftily; 
 Algate I wote wel he hath swiche a name. 
 And yet ful oft he renneth in a blame ; 
 And wete ye how? ful oft it falleth so, 
 The pot to-breketh, and farewel all is go. 
 Thise metales ben of so gret violence, 
 Our walles may not make hem resistence. 
 But if they weren wrought of lime and ston; 
 They percen so, that thurgh the wall they gon; 
 And som of hem sinke doun into the ground, 
 (Thus have we lost by times many a pound) 
 And som are scatered all the ilore aboute; 
 Som lepen into the roof withouten doute. 
 Though that the fend not in our sight him shewe, 
 I trow that he be with us, thilke ^hrewe. 
 In helle, wher that he is lord and sire, 
 Ne is ther no more wo, rancour, ne ire.
 
 THE CHANONES YEMANNES TALE. 229 
 
 Whan that our pot is broke, as I have sayde, 
 
 Every man chit, and holt him evil apayde. 
 
 Som sayd it was long on the lire-making; 
 
 Som sayd nay, it was long on the blowing; 
 
 (Than was 1 ferd, for that was min office) 
 
 Straw, quod the thridde, ye ben lewed and nice. 
 
 It was not tempred as it ought to be. 
 
 Nay, quod the fourthe, stint and herken me; 
 
 Because our fire was not made of beche, 
 
 That is the cause, and other non, so the iche. 
 
 I can not tell wheron it was along, 
 
 But wel I wot gret strif is us among. 
 
 What? quod my lord, ther n'is no more to don, 
 
 Of tliise perils I wol beware eftsone. 
 
 I am right siker, that the pot was erased. 
 
 Be as be may, be ye no thing amased. 
 
 As usage is, let swepe the flore as swithe; 
 
 Plucke up your hertes and be glad and blithe. 
 
 The mullok on an hepe ysweped was, 
 And on the flore yeast a canevas, 
 And all this mullok in a sive ythrowe, 
 And sifted, and ypicked many a throwe. 
 
 Parde, quod on, somwhat of our metall 
 Yet is ther here, though that we have not all. 
 And though this thing mishapped hath as now. 
 Another time it may be wel ynow. 
 We mosten put our good in aventure; 
 A marchant parde may not ay endure, 
 Trusteth me wel, in his prosperitee: 
 Somtime his good is drenched in the see, 
 And somtime cometh it sauf unto the lond. 
 
 Pees, quod my lord, the next time I wol fond 
 To bring our craft all in another plite, 
 And but I do, sires, let me have the wite :
 
 230 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 Ther was defaute in somwhat, wel I wote. 
 
 Another sayd, the fire was over hote. 
 But be it hote or cold, I dare say this, 
 That we concliiden ever more amis: 
 We faille alway of that which we wold have, 
 And in our madnesse evermore we rave. 
 And whan we be together everich on, 
 Every man semeth a Salomon. 
 But all thing, which that shineth as the gold, 
 Ne is no gold, as t have herd it told; 
 Ne every apple that is faire at eye, 
 Ne is not good, what so men clap or crie. 
 Right SO; lo, fareth it amonges us. 
 He that semeth the wisest by Jesus 
 Is most fool, whan it cometh to the prefe; 
 And he that semeth trewest, is a thefe. 
 That shal ye know, or that I from you wende, 
 By that I of my tale have made an ende. 
 
 Ther was a chanon of religioun 
 Amonges us, wold enfect all a toun. 
 Though it as gret were as was Ninive, 
 Rome, Alisaundre, Troie, or other three. 
 His sleightes and his infinite falsenesse 
 Ther coude no man writen, as I gesse, 
 Though that he mighte live a thousand yere; 
 In all this world of falsenesse n'is his pere. 
 For in his termes he wol him so winde. 
 And speke his wordes in so slie a kiade, 
 Whan he comunen shal with any wight, 
 That he wol make him doten anon right, 
 But it a fend be, as himselven is. 
 Ful many a man hath he begiled er this, 
 And woi, if that he may live any while: 
 And yet men gon and riden many a mile
 
 THE CHANONES YEMANNES TALE. 231 
 
 Him for to seke, and have his acquaintance. 
 Not knowing of his false governance. 
 And if you hist to yeve me audience, 
 I wol it tellen here in your presence. 
 But, worshipful Chanons religious, 
 Ne demeth not that I sclander your hous. 
 Although that my tale of a Chanon be. 
 Of every order som shrew is parde : 
 And God forbede that all a compagnie 
 Shuld rewe a singuler mannes folie. 
 To sclander you is no thing min entent. 
 But to correcten that is mis I ment. 
 This tale was not only told for you, 
 But eke for other mo: ye wote wel how 
 That among Cristes aposteles twelve 
 Ther was no traitour but Judas himselve: 
 Than why shuld al the remenant have blame. 
 That giltles were? by you I say the same. 
 Save only this, if ye wol herken me. 
 If any Judas in your covent be, 
 Remeveth him betimes, I you rede. 
 If shame or los may causen any drede. 
 And be no thing displesed I you pray. 
 But in this cas herkeneth what I say. 
 
 In London was a preest, an annuellere, 
 That therin dwelled hadde many a yere. 
 Which was so plesant and so servisable 
 Unto the wif, ther as he was at table, 
 That she wold suffer him no thing to pay 
 For borde ne clothing, v,ent he never so gay; 
 And spending silver had he right ynow: 
 Therof no force; I wol proceed as now. 
 And tellen forth ray tale of the Chanon, 
 That broughte this preest to confusion.
 
 232 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 This false Chaaon came upon a day 
 Unto the preestes chambre, ther he lay, 
 Beseching him to lene him a certain 
 Of gold, and he wold quite it him again. 
 Lene me a marke, quod he, but dayes three. 
 And at my day I wol it quiten thee. 
 And if it so be, that thou finde me false. 
 Another day hang me up by the halse. 
 
 This preest him toke a marke, and that as swith. 
 And this Chanon him thanked often sith. 
 And toke his leve, and wente forth his wey: 
 And at the thridde day brought his money; 
 And to the preest he toke his gold again, 
 Wherof this preest was v/onder glad and fain. 
 
 Certes, quod he, nothing anoieth me 
 To lene a man a noble, or two, or three, 
 Or what thing were in my possession. 
 Whan he so trewe is of condition, 
 That in no wise he breken wol his day: 
 To swiche a man I can never say nay. 
 
 What? quod this Chanon, shuld I be untrewe? 
 Nay, that were thing fallen al of the newe. 
 Trouth is a thing that I wol ever kepe 
 Unto the day in which that I shal crepe 
 Into my grave, and elles God forbede: 
 Beleveth this as siker of your crede. 
 God thanke T, and in good time be it sayde, 
 That ther n'as never man yet evil apayde 
 For gold ne silver that he to me lent, 
 Ne never falshede in min herte I ment. 
 
 And, sire, (quod he) now of my privetee. 
 Sin ye so goodlich have ben unto me. 
 And kithed to me so gret gentillesse, 
 So.iiwhat, to quiten with your kindenesse.
 
 THE CHANONES YEMANNES TALE. 233 
 
 T wol you shewe, and if you lust to lere 
 I wol you techeu pleinly the manere, 
 How I can werken in philosophie. 
 Taketh good heed, ye shuln wel sen at eye, 
 That I wol do a maistrie or I go. 
 
 Ye? quod the preest, ye, sire, and wol ye so? 
 Mary therof I pray you hertily. 
 
 At your comniandement, sire, trewely, 
 Quod the Chanon, and e!!es God forbede. 
 Lo, how this thefe coude his service bede. 
 
 Ful soth it is that swiche profered service 
 Stinketh, as witnessen thise olde wise; 
 And that ful sone I wol it verifie 
 In this Chanon, rote of all trecherie, 
 That evermore delight hath and gladnesse 
 (Swiche fendly thoughtes in his herte empresse) 
 How Cristes peple he may to meschief bring. 
 God kepe us from his false dissimuling. 
 Nought wiste this preest with whom that he delt, 
 TVe of his harme coming nothing he felt. 
 O sely preest, o sely innocent, 
 With covetise anon thou shalt be blent; 
 O graceles, ful blind is thy conceite, 
 For nothing art thou ware of the disceite. 
 Which that this fox yshapen hath to thee ; 
 His wily wrenches thou ne mayst not flee. 
 Wherfore to go to the conclusion 
 That referreth to thy confusion, 
 ITnhappy man, anon I wol me liie 
 To tellen thin unwit and thy folic, 
 And eke the falsenesse of that other wretch, 
 As ferforth as that my conning wol stretch. 
 
 This Chanon was my lord, ye wolden wene; 
 Sire hoste, in faith, and by the heven queue, 
 
 VOL. II. X
 
 234 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 It was another Chanon, and not he. 
 
 That can an hundred part more subtiltee. 
 
 He hath betraied folkes many a time; 
 
 Of his falsenesse it dulleth me to rime. 
 
 Ever whan that I speke of his falshede 
 
 For shame of him my chekes waxen rede ; 
 
 Algates they beginnen for to glowe, 
 
 For rednesse have I non, right wel I knowe, 
 
 In my visage, for fumes diverse 
 
 Of metals, which ye have herd me reherse. 
 
 Consumed han and wasted my rednesse. 
 
 Now take hede of this Chanons cursednesse. 
 
 Sire, quod the Chanon, let your yeman gon 
 For quiksilver, that we it had anon; 
 And let him bringen unces two or three; 
 And whan he cometh, as faste shul ye see 
 A wonder thing, which ye saw never er this. 
 
 Sire, quod the preest, it shal be don ywis. 
 He bad his servant fetchen him this thing, 
 And he al redy was at his bidding. 
 And went him forth, and came anon again 
 With his quiksilver, shortly for to sain, 
 And toke thise unces three to the Chanoun; 
 And he hem laide wel and faire adoun, 
 And bad the servant coles for to bring. 
 That he anon might go to his werking. 
 
 The coles right anon weren yfet. 
 And this Chanon toke out a crosselet 
 Of his bosome, and shewed it to the preest. 
 This instrument, quod he, which that thou seest, 
 Take in thyn bond, and put thyself therin 
 Of this quiksilver an unce, and here begin 
 In the name of Crist to wex a philosophre. 
 Ther be ful fewe, which that I wolde profre
 
 THE CHANONES YEMANNES TALE. 235 
 
 To shewen hem thus muche of ray science : 
 For here shul ye see by experience, 
 That this quiksilver 1 wol mortitie, 
 Right in your sight anon withouten lie. 
 And make it as good silver and as line, 
 As ther is any in your purse or mine, 
 Or elles wher; and make it malliable; 
 And elles holdeth me false and unable 
 Amonges folk for ever to appere. 
 
 I have a ponder here that cost me dere, 
 Shal make all good, for it is cause of all 
 My conning, which that T you shewen shall. 
 Voideth your man, and let him be therout; 
 And shet the dore, while we ben about 
 Our privetee, that no man us espie. 
 While that we werke in this philosophic. 
 
 All, as he bade, fulfilled was in dede. 
 This ilke servant anon right out yede. 
 And his maister shette the dore anon. 
 And to hir labour spedily they gon. 
 
 This preest at this cursed Chanons bidding, 
 Upon the lire anon he set this thing. 
 And blew the fire, and besied him ful fast. 
 And this Chanon into the crosselet cast 
 A ponder, n'ot T never wherof it was 
 Ymade, other of chalk, other of glas. 
 Or somwhat elles, was not worth a flic, 
 To blinden with this preest; and bade him hie 
 The coles for to couchen all above 
 The crosselet; for in tokening I thee love 
 (Quod this Chanon) thine owen hondes two 
 Shal werken all thing which that here is do. 
 
 Grand mercy, quod the preest, and was ful glad, 
 And couched the coles as the Chanon bad.
 
 230 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 And while he besy was, this fendly wretch, 
 
 This false Chanon (the foule fend him fetch) 
 
 Out of his bosom toke a bechen cole, 
 
 In which ful subtilly was made an hole. 
 
 And theiin put was of silver limaile 
 
 An unce, and stopped was withouten faile 
 
 The hole with wax, to kepe the limaile in. 
 
 And understandeth, that this false gin 
 Was not made ther, but it was made before; 
 And other thinces I shal tell you more 
 Hereafterward, which that he with him brought; 
 Er he came ther, him to begile he thought. 
 And so he did, or that they went atwin : 
 Til he had torned him, coud he not blin. 
 It dulleth me, whan that I of him speke; 
 On his falshede fain wold I me awreke, 
 If I wist how, but he is here and ther, 
 He is so variaunt, he abit no wher. 
 
 But taketh hede, sires, now for Goddes love. 
 He toke his cole, of which I spake above, 
 And in his hond he bare it prively, 
 And whiles the preest couched besily 
 The coles, as I tolde you er this. 
 This Chanon sayde; frend, ye don amis; 
 This is not couched as it ought to be, 
 But sone I shal amenden it, quod he. 
 Now let me meddle therwith but a while, 
 For of you have I pitee by Seint Gile. 
 Ye ben right hot, I see wel how ye swete; 
 Have here a cloth and wipe away the wete. 
 
 And whiles that the preest wiped his face. 
 This Chanon toke his cole, with sory grace, 
 And laied it above on the mid ward 
 Of the crosselet, and blew wel afterward,
 
 THE CHANONES YEMANNES TALE. 237 
 
 Til that the coles gonnen fast to bren. 
 
 Now yeve us driiike, quod this Chauoii then, 
 As swithe all shal be wel, I undertake. 
 Sitte we doiin, and let us mery make. 
 And whanne that this Chanones bechen cole 
 Was brent, all the liniaile out of the hole 
 Into the crosselet anon fell adoun; 
 And so it muste nedes by resoun. 
 Sin it above so even couched was; 
 But therof wist the preest nothing, alas ! 
 He denied all the coles ylike good. 
 For of the sleight he nothing understood. 
 
 And whan this Alkymistre saw his time, 
 Riseth up, sire preest, quod he, and stondeth by me ; 
 And for I VKote wel ingot have ye non, 
 Goth, walketh forth, and bringeth a chalk ston; 
 For I wol make it of the same shap, 
 That is an ingot, if I may have hap. 
 Bring eke with you a bolle or elles a panne 
 Ful of water, and ye shul wel see thanne 
 How that our besinesse shal thrive and preve. 
 And yet, for ye shul have no misbeleve 
 No wrong conceit of me in your absence, 
 I ne wol not ben out of your presence, 
 But go with you, and come with you again. 
 
 The chambre dore, shortly for to sain. 
 They opened and shet, and went hir wey. 
 And forth with hem they caried the key. 
 And camen again withouten any delay. 
 What shuld I tarien all the longe day? 
 He toke the chalk, and shope it in the wise 
 Of an ingot, as I shal you devise; 
 I say, he toke out of his owen sieve 
 A teine of silver (yvel mote he cheve) 
 
 X 2
 
 238 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 Which that ne was but a just unce of weight. 
 And taketh heed now of his cursed sleight; 
 He shop his ingot, in length and in brede 
 Of thilke teine, withouten any drede, 
 So slily, that the pieest it not espide; 
 And in his sieve again he gan it hide; 
 And from the fire he toke up his matere, 
 And in the ingot it put with mery chere : 
 And in the water-vessel he it cast, 
 Whan that him list, and bad the preest as fast, 
 Loke what ther is; put in thin bond and grope; 
 Thou shalt ther finden silver as I hope. 
 What, divel of belle! shuld it elles be? 
 Shaving of silver, silver is parde. 
 
 He put his bond in, and toke up. a teine 
 Of silver fine, and glad in every veine 
 Was this preest, whan he saw that it was so. 
 Goddes blessing, and his mothers also. 
 And alle Halwes, have ye, sire Chanon, 
 Sayde this preest, and I hir malison, 
 But, and ye vouchesauf to techen me 
 This noble craft and this subtilitee, 
 I wol be your in all that ever [ may. 
 
 Quod the Chanon, yet wol I make assay 
 The second time, that ye mow taken hede, 
 And ben expert of this, and in your nede 
 Another day assay in min absence 
 This discipline, and this crafty science. 
 Let take another unce, quod he tho. 
 Of quiksilver, withouten wordes mo. 
 And do therwith as ye have don er this 
 With that other, which that now silver is. 
 
 The preest him besieth all that ever he can 
 To don as this Chanon, this cursed man,
 
 THE CHANONES YEMANNES TALE. 239 
 
 Commaudeth him, and faste blewe the fire. 
 For to come to the etieet of his desire. 
 And this Chanon right in the mene v.hile 
 Al redy was this preest eft to begile, 
 And for a countenance in his hond bare 
 An holow stikke, (take kepe and be>vare). 
 In the ende of which an unce and no more 
 Of silver limaile put was, as before 
 Was in his cole, and stopped with wax wel 
 For to kepe in his limaile every del. 
 And while this preest was in his besinesse, 
 This Chanon with his stikke gan him dresse 
 To him anon, and his poudcr cast in, 
 As he did erst, (the devil out of his skin 
 Him torne, I pray to God, for his falshede, 
 For he was ever false in thought and dede) 
 And with his stikke, above the crosselet, 
 That was ordained with that false get, 
 He stirreth the coles, til relenten gan 
 The wax again the fire, 'as every man. 
 But he a fool be, wote wel it mote nede. 
 And all that in the stikke was out yede. 
 And in the crosselet hastily it fell. 
 
 Now, goode sires, what wol ye bet than wel? 
 Whan that this preest was thus begiled again. 
 Supposing nought but trouthe, soth to sain, 
 He was so glad, that I can not expresse 
 In no manere his mirth and his gladnesse. 
 And to the Chanon he profered eftsone 
 Body and good: ye, quod the Chanon, sone. 
 Though poure I be, crafty thou shalt me finde: 
 I warne thee wel, yet is ther more behinde. 
 
 Is ther any coper here within? sayd he. 
 Ye, sire, quod the preest, I trow ther be.
 
 240 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 EUes go beie us som, and that as swithe. 
 Now, goode sire, go forth thy way and hie the. 
 
 He went his way, and with the coper he came, 
 And this Chanon it in his hondes name. 
 And of that coper weyed out an unce. 
 To simple is my tonge to pronounce. 
 As minister of my wit, the doublenesse 
 Of this Chanon, rote of all cursednesse. 
 He semed frendly, to hem that knew him nought, 
 But he was fendly, both in werk and thought. 
 It werieth me to tell of his falsenesse; 
 And natheles yet wol I it expresse, 
 To that entent men may beware therby, 
 And for non other cause trewely. 
 
 He put this coper into the crosselet. 
 And on the lire as swithe he hath it set. 
 And cast in pouder, and made the preest to blow. 
 And in his werking for to stoupen low. 
 As he did erst, and all n'as but a jape; 
 Right as him list the preest he made his ape. 
 And afterward in the ingot he it cast. 
 And in the panne put it at the last 
 Of water, and in he put his owen bond; 
 And in his sieve, as ye beforen bond 
 Herde me tell, he had a silver teine; 
 He slily toke it out, this cursed heine, 
 (TJnweting this preest of his false craft) 
 And in the pannes botome he it laft. 
 And ill the water rombleth to and fro. 
 And wonder prively toke up also 
 The coper teine, (not knowing thilke preest) 
 And hid it, and him hente by the brest. 
 And to him spake, and thus said in his game; 
 Stoupeth adoun; by God ye be to blame;
 
 THE CHANONES YEMANNES TALE. 241 
 
 Helpetli me now, as I did you wbilere; 
 Put ill your bond, and loketh what is there. 
 
 This preest toke up this silver teine anon;. 
 And thanne said the Chanon, let us gon 
 With thise threeteines which that we han wrought. 
 To soni goldsmith, and wete if they ben ought: 
 For by my faith 1 n'olde for my hood 
 But if they weren silver fine and good. 
 And that as swithe wel preved shal it be. 
 
 Unto the goldsmith with thise teines three 
 They went anon, and put hem in assay 
 To fire and hammer : might no man say nay. 
 But that they weren as hem onght to be. 
 
 This soted preest, who was gladder than he? 
 Was never brid gladder agains the day, 
 Ne nightingale in the seson of May 
 Was never non, that list better to sing, 
 Ne lady lustier in carolling, 
 Or for to speke of love and womanhede, 
 Ne knight in armes don a hardy dede 
 To stonden in grace of his lady dere, 
 Than hadde this preest this craft for to lere; 
 And to the Chanon thus he spake and seid; 
 For the love of God, that for us alle deid, 
 And as I may deserve it unto you, 
 What shal this receit cost? telleth me now. 
 
 By our lady, quod this Chanon, it is dere. 
 I warne you wel, that, save I and a frere. 
 In Englelond ther can no man it make. 
 
 No force, quod he ; now, sire, for Goddes sake. 
 What shall I pay? telleth me, I you pray. 
 
 Ywis, quod he, it is ful dere I say. 
 Sire, at o word, if that you list it have, 
 Ye shal pay fourty pound, so God me save;
 
 242 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 And n'ere the frendship that ye did er this 
 To me, ye shulden payen more ywis. 
 
 This preest the sum of fourty pound anon 
 Of nobles fet, and toke hem everich on 
 To this Chauon, for this ilke receit. 
 All his werkina; n'as but fraud and deceit. 
 
 Sire preest, he said, I kepe for to have no loos 
 Of my craft, for 1 wold it were kept cloos; 
 And as ye love me, kepeth it secree : 
 For if men knewen all my subtiltee, 
 By God they wolden have so gret envie 
 To me, because of my philosophic, 
 I shuld be ded, ther were non other way. 
 
 God it forbede, quod the preest, what ye say. 
 Yet had I lever spenden all the good 
 Which that I have, (and elles were I wood) 
 Than that ye shuld fallen in swiche meschefe. 
 
 For your good will,sire,have ye right good prefe, 
 Quod the Chanon, and farewel, grand mercy. 
 He went his way, and never the preest him sey 
 After that day: and whan that this preest shold 
 Maken assay, at swiche time as he wold, 
 Of this receit, farewel, it n'olde not be. 
 Lo, thus bejaped and begiled was he: 
 Thus maketh he his introduction 
 To bringen folk to hir destruction. 
 
 Considereth, sires, how that in eche estat 
 Betwixen men and gold ther is debat. 
 So ferforth that unnethes is ther non. 
 This multiplying so blint many on. 
 That in good faith I trowe that it be 
 The cause gretest of swiche scarsitee. 
 Thise philosophres speke so mistily 
 In this craft, that men cannot come therby, 
 
 \
 
 THE CHAxNONES YEMANNES TALE. 243 
 
 For any wit that men have now adayes. 
 They mow wel chateien, as don thise jayes. 
 And in hir termes set hir lust and peine, 
 But to hir purpos shul they never atteine. 
 A man may lightly lerne, if he have ought, 
 To multiplie, and bring his good to nought. 
 Lo, swiche a lucre is in this lusty game; 
 A mannes mirth it wol turne al to grame, 
 And emptien also gret and hevy purses. 
 And maken folk for to purchasen curses 
 Of hem, that han therto hir good ylent. 
 O, fy for shame, they that han be brent, 
 Alas! can they not flee the fires hete? 
 Ye that it use, I rede that ye it lete: 
 Lest ye lese all; for bet than never is late: 
 Never to thriven, were to long a date. 
 Though ye prolle ay, ye shul it never find: 
 Ye ben as bold as is Bayard the blind. 
 That blondereth forth, and peril casteth non: 
 He is as bold to renne agains a ston. 
 As for to go besides in the way: 
 So faren ye that multiplien, I say. 
 If that your eyen cannot seen aright, 
 Loketh that youre mind lacke not his sight. 
 For though ye loke never so brode and stare, 
 Ye shul not v/in a mite on that chaft'are. 
 But wasten all that ye may rape and renne. 
 Withdraw the fire, lest it to faste brenne; 
 Medleth no more with that art, I mene; 
 For if ye don, your thrift is gon ful clene. 
 And right as s>vithe I wol you tellen here 
 What philosophres sain in this matere. 
 
 Lo, thus saith Arnolde of the newe toun, 
 As his Rosarie maketh mentioun.
 
 244 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 He saith right thus, withouten any lie; 
 Ther may no man Meremie mortifie, 
 But it be with his brothers knowleching. 
 
 Lo, how that he, which firste said this thing, 
 Of philosophres father was Hermes : 
 He saith, how that the dragon dout^les 
 Ne dieth not, but if that he be slain 
 WitTi his brother. And this is for to sain, 
 By the dragon Mercury, and non other. 
 He understood, and brimstone by his brother, 
 That out of Sol and Luna were ydrawe. 
 
 And therfore, said he, take heed to my sawe. 
 Let no man besie him this art to seche, 
 But if that he the entention and speche 
 Of philosophres understonden can; 
 And if he do, he is a lewed man. 
 For this science and this conning (quod he) 
 Is of the secree of secrees parde. 
 
 Also ther was a disciple of Plato, 
 That on a time said his maister to. 
 As his book Senior wol here witnesse. 
 And this was his demand in sothfastnesse: 
 Telle me the name of thilke privee ston. 
 
 And Plato answerd unto him anon; 
 Take the ston that Titanos men name. 
 Which is that? quod he. Magnetia is the same, 
 Saide Plato. Ye, sire, and is it thus? 
 This is ignotum per ignotius. 
 Which is Magnetia, good sire, I pray? 
 
 It is a water that is made, I say, 
 Of the elementes foure, quod Plato. 
 
 Tell me the rote, good sire, quod he tho. 
 Of that water, if that it be your will. 
 
 Nay, nay, quod Plato, certain that I n'ill.
 
 THE MANCIPLES PROLOGUE. 215 
 
 The philosophres were sworne everich on, 
 That they ne shuld discover it unto non, 
 Ne in no book it write in no manere; 
 For unto God it is so lefe and dere, 
 That he wol not that it discovered be, 
 But wher it liketh to his deitee 
 Man for to enspire, and eke for to defende 
 Whom that him liketh; lo, this is the ende. 
 
 Than thus conclude 1, sin that God of heveii 
 Ne wol not that the philosophres neven, 
 How that a man shal come unto this ston, 
 I rede as for the best to let it gon. 
 For who so maketh God his adversary, 
 As for to werken any thing in contrary 
 Of his will, certes never shall he thrive. 
 Though that he multiply terme of his live. 
 And ther a point; for ended is my tale. 
 God send every good man bote of his bale. 
 
 THE MANCIPLES PROLOGUE. 
 
 Wete ye not wher stondeth a litel toun, 
 Which that ycleped is Bob up and doun, 
 LTnder the blee, in Canterbury way? 
 Ther gan our hoste to jape and to play, 
 And sayde; sires, what? Dun is in the mire. 
 Is ther no man for y>raiere ne for hire. 
 That wol awaken our felav^ behind? 
 A thefe him might ful lightly rob and bind. 
 See how he nappeth, see, for cockes bones, 
 As he wold fallen from his hors atones. 
 Is that a coke of London, with meschance? 
 Do him come forth, he knoweth his penance; 
 VOL. ir. Y
 
 246 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 Por he shal tell a tale by my fey, 
 Although it be not worth a betel hey. 
 Awake thou coke, quod he, God yeve thee sorwe. 
 What aileth thee to slepen by the morwe? 
 Hast thou had fleen al night, or art thou dronke? 
 Or hast thou with som queue al night yswonke. 
 So that thou niayst not holden up thin hed? 
 
 This coke, that was ful pale and nothing red, 
 Sayd to our heste; so God my soule blesse, 
 As ther is falle on me swiche hevinesse, 
 N'ot I nat why, that me were lever to slepe. 
 Than the best gallon wine that is in Chepe. 
 
 Wei, quod the Manciple, if it may don ese 
 To thee, sire Coke, and to no wight displese, 
 Which that here rideth in this compagnie. 
 And that our hoste wol of his curtesie, 
 1 wol as now excuse thee of thy tale; 
 For in good faith thy visage is ful pale : 
 Thin eyen dasen, sothly as me thinketh. 
 And wel I wot, thy breth ful soure stinketh, 
 That sheweth wel thou art not wel disposed: 
 Of me certain thou shalt not ben yglosed. 
 See how he galpeth, lo, this dronken wight. 
 As though he wold us swalow anon right. 
 Hold close thy mouth, man, by thy father kin: 
 The devil of helle set his foot therin ! 
 Thy cursed breth enfecten woU us alle: 
 Fy stinking swine, fy, foul mote thee befalle. 
 A, taketh heed, sires, of this lusty man. 
 Now, swete sire, wol ye just at the fan? 
 Therto, me thinketh, ye be wel yshape. 
 I trow that ye have dronken win of ape, 
 And that is whan men play en with a straw. 
 
 And with this speche the coke waxed all wraw,
 
 THE MANCIPLES PROLOGUE. 247 
 
 And on the Manciple he gan nod fast 
 
 For lacke of speche; and doun his hors him cast, 
 
 Wher as he lay, til that men him up toke. 
 
 This was a faire chivachee of a coke: 
 
 Alas that he ne had hold him by his ladel! 
 
 And er that he agen were in the sadel, 
 
 Ther was gret shoving bothe to and fro 
 
 To lift him up, and mochel care and wo, 
 
 So unweldy was this sely palled gost: 
 
 And to the Manciple than spake our host. 
 
 Because that drinke hath domination 
 Upon this man, by my salvation 
 I trow he lewedly wol tell his tale. 
 For were it win, or old or moisty ale, 
 That he hath dronke, he speketh in his nose. 
 And sneseth fast, and eke he hath the pose. 
 He also hath to don more than ynough 
 To kepe him on his capel out of the slough: 
 And if he falle from of his capsl eftsone. 
 Than shul we alle have ynough to done 
 In lifting up his hevy dronken cors. 
 Tell on thy tale, of him make I no force. 
 
 But yet, Manciple, in faith thou art to nice, 
 Thus openly to repreve him of his vice : 
 Another day he wol paraventure 
 Recleimen thee, and bring thee to the lure: 
 I mene, he speken wol of smale thinges. 
 As for to pinchen at thy rekeninges, 
 That were not honest, if it came to prefe. 
 . Quod the Manciple, that were a gret meschefe : 
 So might he lightly bring me in the snare. 
 Yet had I lever payen for the mare, 
 Which he rit on, than he shuld with me strive. 
 I wol not wrathen him, so mote I thrive ;
 
 248 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 That that I spake, I sayd it in my bourd. 
 And wete ye what? I have here in my gourd 
 A draught of win, ye of a ripe grape, 
 And right anon ye shiil seen a good jape. 
 This coke shal drinke therof, if that I may; 
 Up peine of my lif he wol not say nay. 
 
 And certainly, to tellen as it was. 
 Of this vessell the coke dranke fast, (alas ! 
 What nedeth it? he dranke ynough beforne) 
 And whan he hadde pouped in his home. 
 To the Manciple he toke the gourd again. 
 And of that drinke the coke was wonder fain. 
 And thonked him in swiche wise as he coude. 
 
 Than gan our hoste to laughen wonder loude, 
 And sayd; I see wel it is necessary 
 "VVher that we gon good drinke with us to cary; 
 For that wol turnen rancour and disese 
 To accord and love, and many a wrong apese. 
 
 O Bacchus, Bacchus, blessed be thy name, 
 That so canst turnen ernest into game; 
 Worship and thonke be to thy deitee. 
 Of that matere ye get no more of me. 
 Tell on thy tale. Manciple, I thee pray. 
 
 Wel, sire, (juod he, now herkeneth v/hat I say. 
 
 THE MANCIPLES TALE. 
 
 Whan Phebus dwelled here in erth adoun, 
 
 As olde bookes maken mentioun, 
 
 He was the moste lusty bacheler 
 
 Of all this world, and eke the best archer. 
 
 He slow Phiton the serpent, as he lay 
 
 Sleping agains the sonne upon a day;
 
 THE MANCIPLES TALE. 249 
 
 And many another noble worthy dede 
 
 He with his bow wrought, as men mowen rede. 
 
 Playen he coude on every minstralcie. 
 And singen, that it was a melodie 
 To heren of his clere vois the soun. 
 Certes the king of Thebes, Amphioun, 
 That with his singing walled the citee, 
 Coud never singen half so wel as he. 
 Therto he was the semelieste man. 
 That is or was, sithen the world began; 
 What nedeth it his feture to descrive? 
 For in this world n'is non so faire on live. 
 He was therwith fullilled of gentillesse, 
 Of honour, and of partite worthinesse. 
 
 This Phebus, that was flour of bachelerie, 
 As wel in fredom, as in chivalrie, 
 For his disport, in signe eke of victorie 
 Of Pliiton, so as telleth us the storie, 
 Was wont to beren in his bond a bowe. 
 Now had this Phebus in his hous a crowe, 
 Which in a cage he fostred many a day. 
 And taught it speken, as men teche a jay. 
 Whit was this crowe, as is a snow-whit swan, 
 And contrefete the speche of every man 
 He coude, whan he shulde tell a tale. 
 Therwith in all this world no nightingale 
 Ne coude by an hundred thousand del 
 Singen so wonder merily and wel. 
 
 Now had this Phebus in his hous a wif. 
 Which that he loved more than his lif, 
 And night and day did ever his diligence 
 Hire for to plese, and don hire reverence: 
 Save only, if that I the soth shal sain, 
 Jelous he v/as, and wold have kept hire fain, 
 
 Y 2
 
 250 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 For him were loth yjaped for to be; 
 
 And so is every wight in swiche degree; 
 
 But all for nought, for it availeth nought. 
 
 A good wif, that is clene of werk and thought, 
 
 Shuld not be kept in non await certain : 
 
 And trewely the labour is in vain 
 
 To kepe a shrewe, for it wol not be. 
 
 This hold T for a veray nicetee, 
 
 To spillen labour for to kepen wives; 
 
 Thus writen olde clerkes in hir lives. 
 But now to purpos, as I first began. 
 
 This worthy Phebus doth all that he can 
 To plesen hire, wening thurgh swiche plesance, 
 And for his manhood and his governance, 
 That no man shulde put him from hire grace : 
 But God it wote, ther may no man embrace 
 As to destreine a thing, which that nature 
 Hath naturelly set in a creature. 
 
 Take any brid, and put it in a cage. 
 And do all thin entente, and thy corage. 
 To foster it tendrely with mete and drinke 
 Of alle deintees that thou canst bethinke. 
 And kepe it al so clenely as thou may; 
 Although the cage of gold be never so gay, 
 Yet had this brid, by twenty thousand fold. 
 Lever in a forest, that is wilde and cold, 
 Gon eten wormes, and swiche wretchednesse. 
 For ever this brid will don his besinesse 
 To escape out of his cage whan that he may: 
 His libertee the brid desireth ay. 
 
 Let take a cat, and foster hire with milke 
 And tendre flesh, and make hire couche of silke. 
 And let hire see a mous go by the wall, 
 Anon she weiveth milke and flesh, and all,
 
 THE MANCIPLES TALE. 251 
 
 And every deiiitee that is in that hoiis, 
 
 Swiche appetit hath she to ete the raous. 
 
 Lo, here hath kind hire domination. 
 
 And appetit flemeth discretion. 
 
 A she-wolf hath also a vilains kind; 
 
 The lewedeste wolf that she may find, 
 
 Or lest of reputation, wol she take 
 
 In time whan hire lust to have a make. 
 
 All thise ensamples speke I by thise men 
 That ben untrewe, and nothing by women. 
 
 For men have ever a likerous appetit 
 On lower thing to parforme hir delit 
 Than on hir wives, be they never so faire, 
 Ne never so trewe, ne so debonaire. 
 Flesh is so newefangle, with raeschance, 
 That we ne con in nothing have plesance. 
 That souneth unto vertue any while. 
 
 This Phebus, which that thought upon no gile, 
 Disceived was for all his jolitee: 
 For under him another hadde she, 
 A man of litel reputation, 
 Nought worth to Phebus in comparison : 
 The more harme is; it happeth often so; 
 Of which ther cometh mochel hartne and wo. 
 
 And so befell, whan Phebus w/as absent. 
 His wif anon hath for hire lemman sent. 
 Hire iemman? certes that is a knavish speche. 
 Foryeve it me, and that T you beseche. 
 
 The wise Plato sayth, as ye mow rede. 
 The word must nede accorden with the dede. 
 If men shul tellen proprely a thing, 
 The word must cosin be to the werking. 
 I am a boistous man, right thus say I; 
 Ther is no difference trewely
 
 252 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 Betwix a wif that is of high degree, 
 
 (If of hire body dishonest she be) 
 
 And any poure wenche, other than this, 
 
 (If it so be they werken both amis) 
 
 But, for the gentil is in estat above, 
 
 She shal be cleped his lady and his love; 
 
 And, for that other is a poure woman. 
 
 She shal be cleped his wenche and his lemraan : 
 
 And God it wote, min owen dere brother. 
 
 Men lay as low that on as lith that other. 
 
 Right so betwix a titleles tiraunt 
 And an outlawe, or elles a thefe erraunt, 
 The same I say, ther is no difterence, 
 (To Alexander told was this sentence) 
 But, for the tyrant is of greter might 
 By force of nieinie for to sle doun right, 
 And brennen hoiis and home, and make all plain, 
 Lo, thv^rfore is he cleped a capitain; 
 And, for the outlawe hath but smale meinie, 
 And may not do so gret an harme as he, 
 Ne bring a contree to so gret meschiefe. 
 Men clepen him an outlawe or a thefe. 
 
 But, for I am a man not textuel, 
 I wol not tell vof textes never a del ; 
 I wol go to my tale, as I began. 
 
 Whan Phebus wif had sent for hire lemman, 
 Anon they wroughten all hir lust volage. 
 This white crowe, that heng ay in the cage. 
 Beheld hir werke, and sayde never a word: 
 And whan that home was come Phebus the lord. 
 This crowe song, cuckow, cuckow, cuckow. 
 
 What? brid, quod Phebus, what song singest 
 Ne were thou wont so merily to sing, [thou now? 
 That to ray herte it was a rejoysing
 
 THE MANCIPLES TALE. 2^3 
 
 To here thy vois? alas! what song is this? 
 
 By God, quod he, I singe not amis. 
 Phebus, (quod he) for all thy worthinesse. 
 For all thy beautee, and all thy gentillesse, 
 For all thy song, and all thy minstralcie. 
 For all thy waiting, blered is thin eye, 
 With on of litel reputation, 
 Not worth to thee as- in comparison 
 The mountance of a gnat, so mote I thrive; 
 For on thy bedde thy wif I saw him swive. 
 
 What wol you more? the crowe anon him told, 
 By sade tokenes, and by wordes bold, 
 How that his wif had don hire lecherie 
 Him to gret shame, and to gret vilanie ; 
 And told him oft, he sawe it with his eyen. 
 
 This Phebus gan away ward for to wrien; 
 Him thought his woful herte brast atwo. 
 His bowe he bent, and set therin a flo; 
 And in his ire he hath his wif yslain: 
 This is the effect, ther is no more to sain. 
 For sorwe of which he brake his minstralcie, 
 Both harpe and lute, giterne, and sautrie; 
 And eke he brake his arwes, and his bowe; 
 And after that thus spake he to the crowe. 
 
 Traitour, quod he, with tonge of scorpion. 
 Thou hast me brought to my confusion : 
 Alas that I was wrought! why n'ere I dede? 
 
 O dere wif, o gemme of lustyhede. 
 That were to me so sade, and eke so trewe. 
 Now liest thou ded, with face pale of hewe, 
 Ful gilteles, that durst I swere ywis. 
 
 O rakel hond, to do so foule a mis. 
 O troubled wit, o ire reccheles, 
 That unavised smitest gilteles.
 
 254 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 wantrust, ful of false suspecion, 
 Wher was thy wit and thy discretion? 
 
 O, every man beware of rakelnesse, 
 Ne trowe no thing wifnouten strong witnesse. 
 Smite not to sone, er that ye weten why. 
 And beth avised wel and sikerly, 
 Or ye do any execution 
 Upon your ire for suspecion. 
 Alas ! a thousand folk hath rakel ire 
 Fully fordon, and brought hem in the mire. 
 Alas ! for sorwe I wol myselven sie. 
 
 And to the crowe, o false thefe, said he, 
 
 1 wol thee quite anon thy false tale. 
 Thou song whilom, like any nightingale, 
 Now shalt thou, false thefe, thy song forgon. 
 And eke thy white fethers everich on, 
 
 Ne never in all thy lif ne shalt thou speke; 
 Thus shul men on a traitour ben awreke. 
 Thou and thin ofspring ever shul be blake, 
 Ne never swete noise shul ye make. 
 But ever crie ageins tempest and rain. 
 In token, that thurgh thee my wif is slain. 
 
 And to the crowe he stert, and that anon. 
 And pulled his white fethers everich on, 
 And made him blak, and raft him all his song 
 And eke his speche, and out at dore him flong 
 Unto the devil, which I him betake; 
 And for this cause ben alle crowes blake. 
 
 Lordings, by this en&ample, I you pray, 
 Beth ware, and taketh kepe what that ye say; 
 Ne telleth never man in all your lif, 
 How that another man hath dight his wif; 
 He wol you haten mortally certain. 
 Dan Salomon, as wise clerkes sain.
 
 THE MANCIPLES TALE. 255 
 
 Techeth a man to kepe his tonge wel; 
 
 But as I sayd, I am not textuel. 
 
 But natheles thus taughte me my dame; 
 
 My sone, thinke on the crowe a Goddes name. 
 
 My sone, kepe wel thy tonge, and kepe thy fiend; 
 
 A wicked tonge is werse than a fend: 
 
 My sone, from a fende men may hem blesse. 
 
 My sone, God of his endeles goodnesse 
 
 Walled a tonge with teeth, and lippes eke. 
 
 For man shuld him avisen what he speke. 
 
 My sone, ful often for to mochel speche 
 
 Hath many a man ben spilt, as clerkes teche; 
 
 But for a litel speche avisedly 
 
 Is no man shent, to speken generally. 
 
 My sone, thy tonge shuldest thou restreine 
 
 At alle time, but whan thou dost thy peine 
 
 To speke of God in honour and prayeve. 
 
 The firste vertue, sone, if thou wolt lere, 
 
 Is to restreine, and kepen wel thy tonge; 
 
 Thus leren children, whan that they be yonge. 
 
 My sone, of mochel speking evil avised, 
 
 Ther lesse speking had ynough suffised, [taught; 
 
 Cometh mochel. harme; thus was me told and 
 
 In mochel speche sinne wanteth naught. 
 
 Wost thou wherof a rakel tonge serveth? 
 
 Right as a swerd forcutteth and forkerveth 
 
 An arme atwo, my dere sone, right so 
 
 A tonge cutteth frendship all atwo. 
 
 A jangler is to God abhominable. 
 
 Rede Salomon, so wise and honourable, 
 
 Rede David in his Psalraes, rede Senek. 
 
 My sone, speke not, but with thyn bed thou beck, 
 
 Dissimule as thou were defe, if that thou here 
 
 An janglour speke of perilous matere.
 
 256 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 The Fleming sayth, and lerne if that thee lest. 
 That litel jangling causeth mochel rest. 
 My sone, if thou no wicked word hast said. 
 Thee thar not dreden for to be bewraid; 
 But he that hath missayd, I dare wel sain, 
 He may by no way clepe his word again. 
 Thing that is sayd is sayd, and forth it goth, 
 Though him repent, or be him never so loth. 
 He is his thral, to whom that he hath sayd 
 A tale, of which he is now evil apaid. 
 My sone, beware, and be non auctour newe 
 Of tidings, whether they ben false or trewe; 
 Wher so thou come, amonges high or lowe, 
 Kepe wel thy touge, and thinke upon the crowe. 
 
 THE PERSONES PROLOGUE. 
 
 By that the Manciple had his tale ended, 
 The Sonne fro the south line was descended 
 So lowe, that it ne was not to my sight 
 Degrees nine and twenty as of hight. 
 Foure of the clok it was tho, as I gesse. 
 For enleven foot, a litel more or lesse, 
 My shadow was at thilke time, as there. 
 Of swiche feet as my lengthe parted were 
 In six feet equal of proportion. 
 Therwith the mones exaltation. 
 In mene Libra, alway gan ascende. 
 As we were entring at the thorpes ende. 
 For which our hoste, as he was wont to gie. 
 As in this cas, our jolly compagnie. 
 Said in this wise; lordings, everich on. 
 Now lacketh us no tales mo than on.
 
 THE PERSONES PROLOGUE. 257 
 
 Fulfilled is my sentence and my decree; 
 
 I trowe that we ban herd of eche degree. 
 
 Almost fulfilled is myn ordinance; 
 
 I pray to God so yeve him right good chance, 
 
 That telleth us this tale lustily. 
 
 Sire preest, quod he, art thou a vicary? 
 Or art thou a Person? say soth by thy fay. 
 Be what thou be, ne breke thou not our play; 
 For every man, save thou, hath told his tale. 
 Unbokel, and shew us what is in thy male. 
 F'or trewely me thinketh by thy chere. 
 Thou shuldest knitte up wel a gret matere. 
 Tell us a fable anon, for cockes bones. 
 
 This Person him answered al at ones; 
 Thou getest fable non ytold for me, 
 For Poule, that writeth unto Timothe, 
 Repreveth hem that weiven sothfastnesse, 
 And tellen fables, and swiche wretchednesse. 
 Why shuld I sow en draf out of my fist. 
 Whan I may sowen whete, if that me list? 
 For which I say, if that you list to here 
 Moralitee, and vertuous matere, 
 And than that ye wol yeve me audience, 
 I wold ful fain at Cristes reverence 
 Don you plesance leful, as I can. 
 But trusteth wel, I am a sotherne man, 
 I cannot geste, rom, ram, ruf, by my letter, 
 And, God wote, rime hold I but litel better. 
 And tlierfore if you list, I wol not glose, 
 I wol you tell a litel tale in prose. 
 To knitte up all this feste, and make an ende: 
 And Jesu for his grace wit me sende 
 To shev/en you the way in this viage 
 Of thilke parfit glorious pilgrimage, 
 
 VOL. II. z
 
 258 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 That hight Jerusalem celestial. 
 And if ye vouchesauf, anon I shal 
 Beginne upon my tale, for which I pray 
 Tell your avis, I can no better say. 
 
 But natheles this meditation 
 I put it ay under correction 
 Of clerkes, for I am not textuel; 
 I take but the sentence, trusteth me wel. 
 Therfore I make a protestation, 
 That I wol standen to correction. 
 
 Upon this word we han assented sone: 
 For, as us semed, it was for to don, 
 To enden in som vertuous sentence, 
 And for to yeve him space and audience; 
 And bade our hoste he shulde to him say. 
 That alle we to tell his tale him pray. 
 
 Our hoste had the wordes for us alle: 
 Sire preest, quod he, now faire you befalle; 
 Say what you list, and we shul gladly here. 
 And with that word he said in this manere; 
 Telleth, quod he, your meditatioun, 
 But hasteth you, the sonne wol adoun. 
 Beth fructuous, and that in litel space, 
 And to do wel God sende you his grace. 
 
 THE PETISONES TALE. 
 
 Our swete Lord God of heven, that no man 
 wol perish, but wol that we comen all to the 
 knowleching of him, and to the blisful lif that is 
 pardurable, amonesteth us by the Prophet Jere- 
 mie, that sayth in this wise: Stondeth upon the 
 wayes, and seeth and axeth of the olde pathes :
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. 259 
 
 that is to say, of olde sentences; which is the 
 good way: and walketh in that way, and ye 
 shul finde refreshing for your soules. Many 
 ben the wayes spirituel that leden folk to our 
 Lord Jesu Crist, and to the regne of glory: of 
 which wayes, ther is a ful noble way, and wel 
 covenable, which may not faille to man ne to 
 woman, that thurgh sinne hath misgon fro the 
 right way of Jerusalem celestial; and this v,ay 
 is cleped penance; of which man sliuld gladly 
 herken and enqueren with all his herte, to wete, 
 what is penance, and whennes it is cleped pe- 
 nance, and how many maneres ben of actions or 
 werkings of penance, and how many spices ther 
 ben of penance, and which thinaes apperteinen 
 and behoven to penance, and which thinges dis- 
 troublen penance. 
 
 Seint Ambrose sayth. That penance is the 
 plaining of man for the gilt that he hath don, 
 and no more to do any thing for which him ought 
 to plaine. And som doctour sayth: Penance is 
 the waymenting of man that sorweth for his sinne, 
 and peineth himself, for he hath misdon. Pe- 
 nance, with certain circumstances, is veray repen- 
 tance of man, that holdeth himself in sorwe and 
 other peine for his giltes : and for he shal be veray 
 penitent, he shal first bewailen the sinnes that he 
 hath don, and stedfastly purposen in his herte to 
 have shrift of mouth, and to don satisfaction, and 
 never to don thing, for which him ought more to 
 bewayle or complaine, and to continue in good 
 werkes: or elles his repentance may not availe. 
 For as Seint Isidor sayth; he is a japer and a 
 gabber, and not veray repentant, that eftsones
 
 260 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 doth thing, for which him oweth to repent. 
 Weping, and not for to stint to do sinne, may 
 not availe. But natheles, men shiild hope, that 
 at every time that man falleth, be it never so oft, 
 that he may arise thurgh penance, if he have 
 grace: but certain, it is gret doute. For as 
 sa,ith Seint Gregorie; unnethes ariseth he out of 
 sinne, that is charged with the charge of evil 
 usage. And therfore repentant folk, that stint 
 for to sinne, and forlete sinne or that sinne for- 
 lete hem, holy chirche holdeth hem siker of hir 
 salvation. And he that sinneth, and veraily re- 
 penteth him in his last day, holy chirche yet 
 hopeth his salvation, by the grete mercy of our 
 Lord Jesu Crist, for his repentance: but take ye 
 the siker and certain way. 
 
 And now sith I have declared you, what thing 
 is penance, now ye shul understond, that ther 
 ben three actions of penance. The first is, that 
 a man be baptised after that he hath sinned. 
 Seint Augustine sayth; but he be penitent for 
 his old sinful lif, he may not beginne the newe 
 dene lif: for certes, if he be baptised without 
 penitence of his old gilt, he receiveth the marke 
 of baptisrae, but not the grace, ne the remission 
 of his sinnes, til he have veray repentance. Ano- 
 ther defaute is, that men don dedly sinne after 
 that they have received baptisrae. The thridde 
 defaute is, that men fall in venial sinnes after hir 
 baptisrae, fro day to day. Therof sayth Seint 
 Augustine, that penance of good and humble 
 folk is the penance of every day. 
 
 The spices of penance ben three. That on 
 of hem is solempne, another is commune, and
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. 261 
 
 the thridde privee. Thilke penance, that is so- 
 lempne, is in two raaneres; as to be put out of 
 holy chirche in lenton, for slaughter of children, 
 and swiche nianer thing. Another is whan a 
 man hath sinned openly, of which sinne the fame 
 is openly spoken in the contree: and than holy 
 chirche by jugement distreyneth him for to do 
 open penance. Conimun penance is, that preestes 
 enjoinen men in certain cas : as for to go paraven- 
 ture naked on pilgrimage, or bare foot. Privee 
 penance is thilke, that men don all day for privee 
 sinnes, of which we shrive us prively, and receive 
 privee penance. 
 
 Now shalt thou understond what is behoveful 
 and necessary to every parfit penance : and this 
 stont on three thinges; contrition of herte, con- 
 fession of mouth, and satisfaction. For which 
 sayth Seint John Chrysostome : penance dis- 
 treineth a man to accept benignely every peine, 
 that him is enjoined, with contrition of herte, 
 and shrift of mouth, with satisfaction, and werk- 
 ing of all maner humilitee. And this is fruitful 
 penance ayenst tho three thinges, in which we 
 "wrathen onr Lord Jesu Crist: this is to say, by 
 delit in thinking, by rechelesnesse in speking, 
 and by wicked sinful werking. And ayenst 
 these wicked giltes is penance, that may be 
 likened unto a tree. 
 
 The rote of this tree is contrition, that hideth 
 him in the herte of him that is veray repentant, 
 right as the rote of the tree hideth him in the 
 erthe. Of this rote of contrition springeth a 
 stalke, that bereth branches and leves of con- 
 fession, and fruit of satisfaction. Of which Crist 
 
 z 2
 
 262 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 sayth in his gospell; doth ye digne fruit of peni- 
 tence; for by this fruit mow men understonde 
 and knowe this tree, and not by the rote that 
 is hid ia the herte of man, ne by the branches, 
 ne the leves of confession. And therfore our 
 Lord Jesu Crist saith thus; by the fruit of hem 
 shal ye knowe hem. Of this rote also springeth 
 a seed of grace, which seed is nioder of siker- 
 nesse, and this seed is eger and bote. The grace 
 of this seed springeth of God, thurgh remem- 
 brance on the day of dome, and on the peines of 
 helle. Of this matere saith Salomon, that in the 
 drede of God man forletteth his sinne. The hete 
 of this sede is the love of God, and the desiring 
 of the joye perdurable. This hete draweth the 
 herte of man to God, and doth him hate his sinne. 
 For sothly, ther is nothing that savoureth so sote 
 to a child, as the milke of his norice, ne nothing 
 is to him more abhominable than that milke, whan 
 it is medled with other mete. Right so the sinful 
 man that loveth his sinne, him senieth, that it is 
 to him most swete of any thing; but fro that time 
 that he loveth sadly our Lord Jesu Crist, and 
 desireth the lif perdurable, ther is to him nothing 
 more abhominable. For sothly the lawe of God 
 is the love of God. For which David the pro- 
 phet sayth; I have loved thy lawe, and hated 
 wickednesse: he that loveth God, kepeth his 
 lawe and his word. This tree saw the prophet 
 Daniel in spirit, upon the vision of Nabuchodo- 
 nosor, whan he counseiled him to do penance. 
 Penance is the tree of lif, to hem that it receiven : 
 and he that holdeth him in veray penance, is 
 blisful, after the sentence of Salomon.
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. 263 
 
 In this penance or contrition man shal iinder- 
 stond foure thinges; that is to say, what is con- 
 trition; and which ben the causes that moven a 
 man to contrition; and how he shuld be con- 
 trite; and what contrition availeth to the soule. 
 Than is it thus, that contrition is the veray sorwe 
 that a man recciveth in his herte for his sinnes, 
 with sad purpos to shriven him, and to do pe- 
 nance, and never more to don sinne. And this 
 sorwe shal be in this maner, as saith Seint Ber- 
 nard; it shal ben hevy and grevous, and ful 
 sharpe and poinant in herte; first, for a man 
 hath agilted his Lord and his creatour; and 
 more sharpe and poinant, for he hath agilted his 
 father celestial; and yet more sharpe and poi- 
 nant, for he hath wrathed and agilted him that 
 boughte him, that with his precious blod hath 
 delivered us fro the bondes of sinne, and fro the 
 crueltee of the devil, and fro the peines of helle. 
 
 The causes that ought to meve a man to con- 
 trition ben sise. First, a man shal remembre 
 him of his sinnes. But loke that that remem- 
 brance ne be to him no delit, by no way, but 
 grete shame and sorwe for his sinnes. For Job 
 sayth, sinful men don werkes worthy of con- 
 fession. And therfore sayth Ezechiel; I wol 
 remembre me all the yeres of my lif, in the bit- 
 ternesse of my herte. And God sayth in the 
 Apocalipse; remembre you fro whens that ye 
 ben fall, for before the time that ye sinned, ye 
 weren children of God, and limmes of the regne 
 of God; but for your sinne ye ben waxen thral 
 and foule; membres of the fende; hate of angels ; 
 sclaunder of holy chirche, and fode of the false
 
 264 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 serpent; perpetuel matere of the fire of helle; 
 and yet more foule and abhominable, for ye 
 trespassen so oft times, as doth the hound that 
 torneth again to ete his owen spewing; and yet 
 fouler, for your long continuing in sinne, and 
 your sinful usage, for which ye be roten in your 
 sinnes, as a beest in his donge. Swiche manere 
 thoughtes make a man to have shame of his 
 sinne, and no delit; as God saith, by the Pro- 
 phet Ezechiel ; ye shul remembre you of your 
 wayes, and they shul displese you. Sothly, 
 sinnes ben the waies that lede folk to hell. 
 
 The second cause that ought to make a man 
 to have disdeigne of sinne is this, that, as saith 
 Seint Peter, who so doth sinne, is thral to sinne, 
 and sinne putteth a man in gret thraldom. And 
 therfore sayth the Prophet Ezechiel; I went 
 sorweful, and had disdeigne of myself. Certes, 
 wel ought a man have disdeigne of sinne, and 
 withdraw© him fro that thraldom and vilany. 
 And lo, what sayth Seneke in this mater. He 
 saith thus; though T wist, that neither God ne 
 man shuld never know it, yet wold I have dis- 
 deigne for to do sinne. And the same Seneke 
 also sayth: I am borne to greter thinges, than 
 to be thral to my body, or for to make of my 
 body a thral. Ne a fouler thral may no man, 
 ne woman, make of his bodj^ than for to yeve 
 his body to siune. Al were it the foulest 
 chorle, or the foulest M^oman that liveth, and 
 lest of value, yet is he than more foule, and 
 more in servitude. Ever fro the higher degree 
 that man falleth, the more is he thral, and more 
 to God and to the world vile and abhominable.
 
 THE PERSONES TALE, 265 
 
 O good God, wel ought a man have disdeigne 
 of siiiiie, sith that thiirgh siiine, ther he was 
 free, he is made bond. And therfore sayth 
 Seint Augustine: if thou hast disdeigne of thy 
 servant, if he offend or sinne, have thou than 
 disdeigne, that thou thy self shuldest do sinne. 
 Take reward of thin owen value, that thou ne 
 be to foule to thyself. Alas ! wel oughten they 
 than have disdeigne to be servants and thralles 
 to sinne, and sore to be ashamed of heniself, that 
 God of his endles goodnesse hath sette in high 
 estat, or yeve hem witte, strength of body, hele, 
 beautee, or prosperitee, and bought hem fro the 
 deth with his herte blood, that they so unkindly 
 agains his gentillesse, quiten him so vilainsly, to 
 slaughter of hir owen soules. O good God! ye 
 women that ben of gret beautee, remembreth 
 you on the proverbe of Salomon, that likeneth 
 a faire woman, that is a fool of hire body, to a 
 ring of gold that is worne in the groine of a 
 sowe: for right as a sowe wroleth in every 
 ordure, so wroteth she hire beautee in stinking 
 ordure of sinne. 
 
 The thridde cause, that ought to meve a man 
 to contrition, is drede of the day of dome, and of 
 the horrible peines of belle. For as Seint Je- 
 rome sayth : at every time that me remembreth 
 of the day of dome, I quake : for whan I ete or 
 drinke, or do what so I do, ever semeth me that 
 the trompe sowneth in min eres : riseth ye up that 
 ben ded, and cometh to the jugement. O good 
 God! moche ought a man to drede swiche a 
 jugement, ther as we shul be alle, as Seint 
 Poule sayth, before the streit jugement of oure
 
 266 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 Lord Jesu Crist; wheras he shal make a general 
 congregation, wheras no man may be absent; 
 for certes ther availeth non essoine ne non ex- 
 cusation; and not only, that our defautes shul be 
 juged, but eke that all our werkes shul openly 
 be knowen. And, as sayth Seint Bernard, ther 
 ne shal no pleting availe, ne no sleight: we shal 
 yeve rekening of everich idle word. Ther shal 
 we have a juge that may not be deceived ne cor- 
 rupt; and why? for certes, all our thoughtes ben 
 discovered, as to him : ne for prayer, ne for mede, 
 he will not be corrupt. And therfore saith Sa- 
 lomon: the wrath of God ne wol not spare no 
 wight, for prayer ne for yeft. And therfore at 
 the day of dome ther is non hope to escape. 
 Wherfore, as sayth Seint Anselme, ful gret 
 anguish shal the sinful folk have at that time: 
 ther shal be the sterne and wroth juge sitting 
 above, and under him the horrible pitte of helle 
 open, to destroy him that wolde not beknowen his 
 sinnes, which siniies shullen openly be shewed 
 before God and before every creature: and on 
 the left side, mo Divels than any herte may 
 thinke, for to hary and drawe the sinful soules 
 to the pitte of helle: and viithin the hertes of 
 folk shal be the biting conscience, and without 
 forth shal be the world all brenning. Whither 
 than shal the wretched soule flee to hide him? 
 Certes he may not hide him, he must come forth 
 and she we him. For certes, as saith Seint Je- 
 rome, the erth shal cast him out of it, and the 
 see, and also the aire, that shal be ful of thonder 
 clappes and lightnings. Now sothly, who so 
 wil remembre him of these thinges, I gesse that
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. 267 
 
 his sinnes shal not toine him to delit, but to grete 
 sorwe, for drede of the peine of helle. And 
 therfore saith Job to God: suffer. Lord, that I 
 may a while bewaile and bewepe, or I go with- 
 out retorning- to the derke londe, ycovered with 
 the derkenesse of deth; to the londe of misese 
 and of derkenesse, wheras is the shadowe of 
 deth; wheras is non ordre ne ordinance, but 
 grisly drede that ever shal last. Lo, here may 
 ye see, that Job prayed respite a while, to be- 
 wepe and waile his trespas : for sothely on day 
 of respite is better than all the tresour of this 
 world. And for as moche as a man may ac- 
 quite himself before God by penitence in this 
 world, and not by tresour, therfore shuld he 
 pray to God to yeve him respite a while, to be- 
 wepen and bewailen his trespas: for certes, all 
 the sorwe that a man might make fro the be- 
 ginning of the world, n'is but a litel thing, at 
 regard of the sorwe of helle. The cause why 
 that Job clepeth helle the londe of derkenesse; 
 understondeth, that he clepeth it londe or erth, 
 for it is stable and never shal faile; and derke, 
 for he that is in helle hath defaute of light na- 
 turel; for certes the derke light, that shal come 
 out of the fire that ever shal brenne, shal torne 
 hem all to peine that be in helle, for it sheweth 
 hem the horrible Divels that hem turmenten. Co- 
 vered with the derkenesse of deth; that is to say, 
 that he that is in helle, shal have defaute of the 
 sight of God ; for certes the sight of God is the 
 lif perdurable. The derkenesse of deth, ben the 
 sinnes that the wretched man hath don, which 
 that distroublen him to see the face of God,
 
 268 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 right as a derke cloud betwene us and the sonne. 
 It is londe of misese, because that ther ben three 
 maner of defautes ayenst three thinges that folk 
 of this world han in this present lif ; that is to 
 say, honoures, delites, and richesses. Ayenst 
 honour have they in helle shame and confusion : 
 for wel ye wote, that men clepen honour the re- 
 verence that man doth to man; but in helle is 
 non honour ne reverence; for certes no more 
 reverence shal be don ther to a king, than to a 
 knave. For vphich God sayth by the Prophet 
 Jeremie: the folk, that me despisen, shal be in 
 despite. Honour is also cleped gret lordeship. 
 Ther shal no wight serven other, but of harnie 
 and turment. Honour is also cleped gret dig- 
 nitee and highnesse; but in helle shal they be alle 
 fortroden of divels. AsGodsaith; the horrible 
 Divels shul gon and comen upon the hedes of 
 dampned folk: and this is, for as moche as the 
 higher that they were in this present lif, the more 
 shul they be abated and defouled in helle. 
 Ayenst the richesse of this world shul they 
 have misese of poverte, and this poverte shal be 
 in foure thinges : in defaute of tresour; of which 
 David sayth; the riche folk that enbraceden and 
 oneden all hir herte to tresour of this world, shul 
 slepe in the sleping of deth, and nothing ne shul 
 they find in hir hondes of all hir tresour. And 
 moreover, the misese of helle shal be in defaute 
 of mete and drink. For God sayth thus by 
 Moyses : they shul be wasted with honger, and 
 the briddes of helle shul devoure hem with bitter 
 deth, and the gall of the dragon shal ben hir 
 drinke, and the venime of the dragon hir mor-
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. 269 
 
 sels. And further over hir misese shal be in 
 defaute of clothing, for they shul be naked in 
 body, as of clothing, save the tire in which they 
 brenne, and other tilthes; and naked shul they 
 be in soule, of all maner vertues, which that is 
 the clothing of the soule. Wher ben than the 
 gay robes, and softe shetes, and the fyn shertes? 
 Lo, what sayth God of heven by the Prophet 
 Esaie, that under hem shul be strewed mothes, 
 and hir covertures shul ben of wornies of helle. 
 And further over hir misese shal be in defaute of 
 frendes, for he is not poure that hath good 
 frendes: but ther is no iVend; for neither God 
 ne no good creature shal be frend to hem, and 
 everich of hem shal hate other with dedly hate. 
 The sonnes and the doughters shal rebel ayenst 
 father and mother, and kinred ayenst kinred, and 
 chiden, and despisen eche other, both day and 
 night, as God sayth by the Prophet Micheas, 
 And the loving children, that v/hi!oni loveden so 
 fleshly, everich of hem wold eten other if they 
 might. For how shuld they love togeder in the 
 peines of helle, whan they hated eche other in 
 the prosperitee of this lif? For truste wel, hir 
 fleshly love was dedly hate. As saith the Pro- 
 phet David: who so that loveth wickednesse, he 
 hateth his owen soule, and who so hateth his 
 Owen soule, certes he may love non other wight 
 in no manere: and therfore in helle is no solace 
 ne no frendship, but ever the more kinredes that 
 ben in helle, the more cursing, the more chiding, 
 and the more dedly hate ther is among hem. 
 And further over ther they shul have defaute of 
 all maner delites, for certes delites ben after the 
 VOL. ir. A A
 
 270 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 appetites of the five wittes; as sight, hering, 
 smelling", savouring, and touching. But in helle 
 hir sight shul be ful of derkenesse and of smoke, 
 and hir eyen ful of teres ; and hir liering ful of 
 w aimenting and grinting of teeth> as sayth Jesu 
 Crist: hir nosethirles shul be ful of stinking; 
 and, as saith Esay the Prophet, hir savouring 
 shal be ful of bitter galle; and touching of all 
 hir body, shal be covered with fire that never 
 shal quenche, and with wormes that never shal 
 die, as God sayth by the mouth of Esay. And 
 for as moche as they shul not wene that they 
 mow dien for peine, and by deth flee fro peine, 
 that mow they understonde in the word of Job, 
 that sayth; Ther is the shadow of deth. Certes 
 a shadowe hath likenesse of the thing of which 
 it is shadowed, but shadowe is not the same 
 thing of which it is shadowed: right so fareth 
 the peine of helle; it is like deth, for the horrible 
 anguish; and why? for it peineth hem ever as 
 though they shuld die anon; but certes they shul 
 not dien. Por as sayth Seint Gregory ; To 
 wretched caitifes shal be deth withouten deth, 
 and ende withouten ende, and defaute withouten 
 failing; for hir deth shal alway live, and hir ende 
 shal ever more beginne, and hir defaute shal 
 never faile. And therfore sayth Seint John the 
 Evangelist; They shul folow deth, and they shul 
 not finde him, and they shul desire to die, and 
 deth shal flee from hem. And eke Job saith, 
 that in helle is non ordre of rule. And al be it 
 so, that God hath create all thing in right ordre, 
 and nothing withouten ordre, but all thinges ben 
 ordred and nombred, yet natheles they that ben
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. 271 
 
 dampiied ben nothing in ordre, ne hold non ordre. 
 For the erth shal here hem no fruite ; (for, as the 
 Prophet David sayeth, God shal destroy the 
 fruite of the erth, as fro hem) ne water shal yeve 
 hem no moisture, ne the aire no refreshing, ne 
 the fire no light. For as sayth Seint Basil; 
 The brenning of the fire of this world shal God 
 yeve in helle to hem that ben dampned, but the 
 light and the elerenesse shal be yeve in heven 
 to his children; right as the good man yeveth 
 flesh to his children, and bones to his houndes. 
 And for they shul have non hope to escape, 
 sayth Job at last, that ther shal horrour and 
 grisly drede dwellen withouten ende. Horrour 
 is alway drede of harme that is to come, and 
 this drede shal alway dwell in the hertes of hem 
 that ben dampned. And therfore ban they lorne 
 all hir hope for seven causes. First, for God 
 that is hir juge shal be withouten mercie to 
 hem; and they may not plese him; ne non of 
 his halwes; ne they may yeve nothing for hir 
 raunsom; ne they have no vois to speke to him; 
 ne they may not flee fro peine; ne they have no 
 goodnesse in hem that they may shew to de- 
 liver hem fro peine. And therfore sayth Sa- 
 lomon; The wicked man dieth, and whan he is 
 ded, he shal have non hope to escape fro peine. 
 Who so than wold wel understonde these peines, 
 and bethinke him wel that he hath deserved these 
 peines for his sinnes, certes he shulde have more 
 talent to sighen and to wepe, than for to singe 
 and playe. For as sayth Salomon; Who so 
 that had the science to know the peines that ben 
 established and ordeined for sinne, he wold for-
 
 272 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 sake sinne. That science, saith Seint Austin, 
 maketh a man to waimenten in his herte. 
 
 The fouithe point, that oughte make a man 
 have contrition, is the sorvveful remembrance of 
 the good dedes that he hath lefte to don here in 
 erthe, and also the good that he hath lorne, 
 Sothly the good werkes that he hath lefte, either 
 they be the good werkes that he wrought er he 
 fell into dedly sinne, or elles the good werkes 
 that he wrought while he lay in sinne. Sothly 
 the good werkes that he did before that he fell 
 in dedly sinne, ben all mortified, astoned, and 
 dulled by the eft sinning: the other werkes that 
 he wrought while he lay in sinne, they ben ut- 
 terly ded, as to the lif perdurable in heven. 
 Than thilke good werkes that ben mortified by 
 eft sinning, which he did while he was in cha- 
 ritee, moun never quicken ayen without veray 
 penitence. And therof sayth God by the mouth 
 of Ezechiel; if the rightful man retorne aaain fro 
 his rightwisnesse and do wickednesse, shal he 
 liven? nay; for all the good werkes that he hath 
 wrought, shul never be in remembrance, for he 
 shal die in his sinne. And upon thilke chapitre 
 sayth Seint Gregorie thus; that we shal under- 
 stonde this principally, that when we don dedly 
 sinne, it is for nought than to remembre or drawe 
 into memorie the good werkes that we have 
 wrought beforn: for certes in the werking of 
 dedly sinne, ther is no trust in no good werk 
 that we have don beforn ; that is to say, as for 
 to have therby the lif perdurable in heven. But 
 natheles, the good werkes quicken again and 
 comen again, and helpe and availe to have the
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. ' 273 
 
 lif perdurable in heven, whan we have contrition : 
 but sothly the good werkes that men don while 
 they ben in dedly sinne, for as moche as they 
 were don in dedly sinne, they may never quicken : 
 for certes, thing that never had lif, may never 
 quicken: and natheles, al be it so that they 
 availen not to have the lif perdurable, yet 
 availen they to abreggen the peine of helle, or 
 elles to get temporal richesses, or elles that God 
 wol the rather enlumine or light the herte of the 
 sinful man to have repentance; and eke they 
 availen for to usen a man to do good werkes, 
 that the fende have the lesse power of his souie. 
 And thus the curteis Lord Jesu Crist ne woll 
 that no good werk that men don be loste, for in 
 somwhat it shal availe. But for as moche as 
 the good werkes that men don while they ben in 
 good lif, ben all amortised by sinne folowing, 
 and eke sith all the good werkes that men don 
 while they ben in dedly sinne, ben utterly ded, 
 as for to have the lif perdurable, wel may that 
 man, that no good werk ne doth, sing thilke 
 jiewe Frenshe song, Jay tout perdu mon temj^s, 
 et mon labour. For certes sinne bereveth a man 
 both goodnesse of nature, and eke the goodnesse 
 of grace. For sothly the grace of the holy gost 
 fareth like fire that may not ben idle; for fire fail- 
 eth anon as it forletteth his werking, and right so 
 grace faileth anon as it forletteth his werking. 
 Than leseth the sinful man the goodnesse of 
 glorie, that only is hight to good men that la- 
 bouren and werken wel. Wel may he be sory 
 than, that oweth all his lif to God, as long as 
 he hath lived, and also as long as he shal live, 
 
 A A 2
 
 274 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 that no goodnesse ne hath to paie with his dette 
 to God, to whom he oweth all his lif : for trust 
 wel he shal yeve accomptes, as sayth Seint Ber- 
 nard, of all the goodes that han ben yeven him in 
 this present lif, and how he hath hem dispended, 
 in so moche that ther shal not perishe an here of 
 his hed, ne a moment of an houre ne shal not 
 perishe of his time, that he ne shal yeve therof a 
 rekening. 
 
 The fifthe thing, that ought to meve a man to 
 contrition, is lemembrance of the passion that 
 our Lord Jesu Crist suftered for our sinnes. For 
 as sayth Seint Bernard, While that I live, I shal 
 have remembrance of the travailes that our Lord 
 Jesu Crist suftered in preching, his werinesse in 
 traveling, his temptations whan he fasted, his 
 long wakinges whan he prayed, his teres whan 
 he wept for pitee of good peple : the wo and the 
 shame, and the filthe that men sayden to him: 
 of the foule spitting that men spitten in his face, 
 of the buftettes that men yave him : of the foule 
 mouthes and of the foule repreves that men saiden 
 to him: of the nayles with which he was nailed 
 to the crosse; and of all the remenant of his pas- 
 sion, that he suflred for mannes sinne, and no- 
 thing for his gilte. And here ye shul understand 
 that in mannes sinne is every maner order, or 
 ordinance, tourned up so doun. For it is soth, 
 that God and reson, and seiisualitee, and the 
 body of man, ben ordained, that everich of thise 
 foure thinges shuld have lordship over that other: 
 as thus; God shuld have lordship over reson, 
 and reson over sensualitee, and sensualitee over 
 the body of man. But sothly whan man sinneth.
 
 THE PERSON ES TALE. 275 
 
 all this ordre, or ordinance, is turned up so doun ; 
 and therfore than, for as moche as reson of man 
 ne wol not be subget ne obeisant to God, that is 
 his lord by right, therfore leseth it the lordship 
 that it shuld have over sensualitee, and eke over 
 the body of man; and why? for sensualitee re- 
 belleth than ayenst reson: and by that way 
 leseth reson the lordship over sensualitee, and 
 over the body. For right as reson is rebel to 
 God, right so is sensualitee rebel to reson, and 
 the body also. And certes this disordinance, 
 and this rebellion, our Lord Jesu Crist abought 
 upon his precious body ful dere: and herkeneth 
 in whiche wise. For as moche as reson is rebel 
 to God, therfore is man worthy to have sorwe, 
 and to be ded. This suftVed our Lord Jesu Crist 
 for man, after that he had be betraied of his dis- 
 ciple, and distreined and bounde, so that his 
 blood brast out at every nail of his hondes, as 
 saith Seint Augustin. And ferthermore, for as 
 moche as reson of man wol not daunt sensualitee 
 whan it may, therfore is man worthy to have 
 shame: and this suffered our Lord Jesu Crist 
 for man, whan they spitten in his visage. And 
 fertherover, for as moche as the caitif body of 
 man is rebel both to reson and to sensualitee, 
 therfore it is worthy the deth : and this suffered 
 our Lord Jesu Crist upon the crosse, wheras 
 ther was no part of his body free, without grete 
 peine and bitter passion. And all this suffred 
 our Lord Jesu Crist that never forfaited; and 
 thus sayd he: To mochel am I peiued, for 
 thinges that I never deserved : and to moche 
 defouled for shendship that man is worthy to
 
 276 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 have. And therfore may the sinful man wel 
 say, as sayth Seint Bernard: Accursed be the 
 bitternesse of my sinne, for whiche ther must be 
 suffered so moche bitternesse. For certes, after 
 the divers discordance of our wickednesse was 
 the passion of Jesu Crist ordeined in divers 
 thinoes; as thus. Certes sinful niannes soule is 
 betraied of the divel, by coveitise of temporel 
 prosperitee; and scorned by disceite, whan he 
 cheseth fleshly delites; and yet it is turmented 
 by impatience of adversitee, and bespet by ser- 
 vage and subjection of sinne; and at the last it 
 is slain finally. For this discordance of sinful 
 man, vpas Jesu Crist first betraied; and after 
 that was he bounde, that came for to unbinde 
 us of sinne and of peine. Than was he be- 
 scorned, that only shuld have ben honoured in 
 alle thinges and of alle thinges. Than was his 
 visage, that ought to be desired to be seen of all 
 mankind (in which visage angels desiren to loke) 
 vilainsly bespet. Than was he scourged that 
 nothing had trespassed; and finally, than was 
 he crucified and slain. Than were accomplished 
 the wordes of Esaie : He was wounded for our 
 misdedes, and defouled for our felonies. Now 
 sith that Jesu Crist toke on himself the peine 
 of all our wickednesses, moche ought sinful man 
 to wepe and to bewaile, that for his sinnes Goddes 
 sone of heven shuld all this peine endure. 
 
 The sixte thing, that shuld move a man to 
 contrition, is the hope of three thinges, that is 
 to say, foryevenesse of sinne, and the yeft of 
 grace for to do wel, and the glorie of heven, 
 with whiche God shal guerdon man for his good
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. 277 
 
 dedes. And for as inoche as Jesii Crist yeveth 
 us thise yeftes of his largenesse, and of his sove- 
 raine bountee, therfore is he cleped, Jesus Naza- 
 renns Rex Judceorum. Jesus is for to say, sa- 
 viour or salvation, on whom men shul hopen to 
 have foryevenesse of sinnes, which that is pro- 
 prely salvation of sinnes. And therfore sayd 
 the Angel to Joseph, Thou shalt clepe his name 
 Jesus, that shal saven his peple of hir sinnes. 
 And hereof saith Seint Peter; Ther is non other 
 name under heven, that is yeven to any man, by 
 which a man may be saved, but only Jesus. 
 Nazarenus is as moche for to say, as flourishing, 
 in which a man shal hope, that he, that yeveth 
 him remission of sinnes, shal yeve him also grace 
 wel for to do: for in the flour is hope of fruit in 
 time coming, and in foryevenesse of sinnes hope 
 of grace wel to do. I was at the dore of thin 
 herte, sayth Jesus, and cleped for to enter. He 
 that openeth to me, shal have foryevenesse of his 
 sinnes, and I wol enter into him by my grace, 
 and soupe with him by the good werkes that he 
 shal don, which werkes ben the food of God, 
 and he shal soupe with me by the gret joye that 
 I shal yeve him. Thus shal man hope, that for 
 his werkes of penance God shal yeve him his 
 regne, as he behight him in the Gospel. 
 
 Now shal man understande, in which maner 
 shal be his contrition. I say, that it shal be 
 universal and total ; this is to say, a man shal 
 be veray repentant for all his sinnes, that he hath 
 don in delite of his thought, for delite is perilous. 
 For ther ben two maner of consentinges; that 
 on of hem is cleped consenting of aff'ection.
 
 27B CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 whan a man is meved to do sinne, and than de- 
 liteth him longe for to thinke on that sinne, and 
 his reson apperceiveth it we!, that it is sinne 
 ayenst the lawe of God, and yet his reson re- 
 fraineth not his foule delite or talent, though he 
 see wel apertly, that it is ayenst the reverence 
 of God; although his reson consent not to do 
 that sinne indede, yet sayn som doctours, that 
 swiche dehte that dwelleth longe is ful perilous, 
 al be it never so lite. And also a man shuld 
 sorow, namely for all that ever he hath desired 
 ayenst the lawe of God, with parfite consenting 
 of his reson, for therof is no doute, that it is 
 dedly sinne in consenting: for certes ther is no 
 dedly sinne, but that it is first in mannes thought, 
 and after that in his delite, and so forth into con- 
 senting, and into dede. Wherfore I say, that 
 many men ne repent hem never of swiche 
 thoughtes and delites, ne never shriven hem of 
 it, but only of the dede of gret sinnes outward: 
 wherfore I say, that swiche wicked delites ben 
 subtil begiiers of hem that shul be dampned. 
 Moreover man ought to sorwen for his wicked 
 wordes, as wel as for his wicked dedes: for 
 certes repentance of a singuler sinne, and not 
 repentant of all his other sinnes; or elles re- 
 penting him of all his other sinnes, and not of a 
 singuler sinne, may not availe. For certes God 
 Almighty is all good; and therfore, either he 
 foryeveth all, or elles right nought. And ther- 
 fore sayth Seint Augustin: I wote certainly, that 
 God is enemy to every sinner: and how than? he 
 that observeth on sinne, shal he have foryeve- 
 nesse of the remenant of his other sinnes ? Nay.
 
 \ 
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. 279 
 
 And furtherover contrition shiild be wonder sov- 
 weful and anguishous : and therfore yevetli him 
 God plainly his mercie : and therfore whan my 
 soule was anguishous, and sorweful within nie, 
 than had I remembrance of God, that my praier 
 might come to him. Furtherover contrition muste 
 be continuel, and that man have stedfast purpose 
 to shrive him, and to amend him of his lif. For 
 sothly, while contrition lasteth, man may ever 
 hope to have foryenesse. And of this cometh 
 hate of sinne, that destroyeth sinne bothe in him- 
 self, and eke in other folk at his power. For 
 which sayth David; they that love God, hate 
 wickednesse: for to love God, is for to love that 
 he loveth, and hate that he hateth. 
 
 The last thing that men shull understand in 
 contrition is this, wherof availeth contrition. I 
 say, that contrition somtime delivereth man fro 
 sinne: of which David saith; I say, (quod 
 David) I purposed fermely to shrive me, and 
 thou Lord relesedest my sinne. And right so 
 as contrition availeth not without sad purpos of 
 shrift and satisfaction, right so litel worth is 
 shrift or satisfaction withouten contrition. And 
 moreover contrition destroyeth the prison of 
 belle, and maketh weke and feble all the 
 strengthes of the Devils, and restoreth the 
 yeftes of the holy gost, and of all good vertues, 
 and it clenseth the soule of sinne, and delivereth 
 it fro the peine of helle, and fro the compagnie 
 of the Devil, and fro the servage of sinne, and 
 restoreth it to all goodes sy)irituel, and to the 
 compagnie and communion of holy chirche. And 
 furtherover it maketh him, that whilom was sone
 
 2B0 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 of ire, to be the sone of grace : and all these 
 thinges ben preved by holy writ. And therfore 
 he that wold set his entent to thise thinges, he 
 were ful wise: for sothly he ne shuld have than 
 in all his lif corage to sinne, but yeve his herte 
 and body to the service of Jesu Crist, and therof 
 do him homage. For certes our Lord Jesu Crist 
 hath spared us so benignely in our folies, that if 
 he ne had pitee on mannes soule, a sory song 
 might we alle singe. 
 
 Explicit prima pars penitenticE ; et incipit 
 j)ars secunda. 
 
 The second part of penitence is confession, 
 and that is signe of contrition. Now shul ye 
 understonde what is confession; and whether it 
 ought nedes to be don or non : and which thinges 
 ben covenable to veray confession. 
 
 First shalt thou understande, that confession 
 is veray shewing of sinnes to the preest; this is 
 to saie veray, for he must confesse him of all the 
 conditions that belongen to his sinne, as ferforth 
 as he can: all must be sayd, and nothing ex- 
 cused, ne hid, ne forwrapped: and not avaunt 
 him of his good werkes. Also it is necessarie 
 to understande whennes that sinnes springen, and 
 how they encresen, and which they ben. 
 
 Of springing of sinnes saith Seint Poule in 
 this wise: that right as by on man sinne entred 
 first into this world, and thurgh sinne deth, right 
 so deth entreth into alle men that sinnen: and 
 this man was Adam, by whom sinne entred into 
 this world, whan he brake the comraandement 
 of God. And therfore he that first was so mighty.
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. 281 
 
 that he ne shuld have died, became swiche on 
 that he must nedes die, whether he wold or no; 
 and all his progenie in this world, that in thilke 
 maner sinnen, dien. Loke that in the estat of 
 innocence, whan Adam and Eve weren naked 
 in paradise, and no thing ne hadden shame of hir 
 nakednesse, how that the serpent, that was most 
 wily of all other bestes that God had made, sayd 
 to the woman: why commanded God you, that 
 ye shuld not ete of every tree in Paradise? The 
 woman answered: of the fruit, sayd she, of the 
 trees of Paradise we feden us, but of the fruit of 
 the tree that is in the middel of Paradise God 
 forbode us for to eten, ne to touche it, lest we 
 shuld die. The serpent sayd to the woman : 
 nay, nay, ye shul not dien of deth ; for soth 
 God wote, that what day that ye ete therof your 
 eyen shul open, and ye shul be as goddes, know- 
 ing good and harme. The woman saw that the 
 tree was good to feding, and faire to the eyen, 
 and delectable to the sight; she toke of the fruit 
 of the tree and did ete, and yave to hire husbond, 
 and he ete; and anon the eyen of hem both 
 opened: and whan they knewe that they were 
 naked, they sowed of a tig-tree leves in maner 
 of breches, to hiden hir members. Here mow 
 ye seen, that dedly sinne hath first suggestion of 
 the fende, as sheweth here by the adder; and 
 afterward the delit of the flesh, as sheweth here 
 by Eve; and after that the consenting of reson, 
 as sheweth by Adam. For trust wel, though so 
 it were, that the fende tempted Eve, that is to 
 say, the flesh, and the flesh had delit in the 
 beautee of the fruit defended, yet certes til that 
 VOL. II. B B
 
 282 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 reson, that is to say, Adam, consented to the 
 eting of the fruit, yet stode he in the state of in- 
 nocence. Of thilke Adam toke we thilke sinne 
 original; from him fleshly discended be we all, 
 and engendred of vile and corrupt mater: and 
 whan the soule is put in our bodies, right anon 
 is contract original sinne; and that, that was 
 erst but only peine of concupiscence, is after- 
 ward both peine and sinne: and therfore we ben 
 all yborne sones of wrath, and of dampnation 
 perdurable, if ne were Baptisme that we receive, 
 which benimeth us the culpe: but forsoth the 
 peine dwelleth with us as to temptation, which 
 peine hight concupiscence. This concupiscence, 
 whan it is wrongfully disposed or ordeined in 
 man, it maketh him coveit, by coveitise of flesh, 
 fleshly sinne by sight of his eyen, as to erthly 
 thinges, and also coveitise of highnesse by pride 
 of herte. 
 
 Now as to speke of the first coveitise, that is 
 concupiscence, after the lawe of our membres, 
 that were lawfully ymaked, and by rightful juge- 
 ment of God, 1 say, for as moche as a man is 
 not obeisant to God, that is his Lord, therfore is 
 his herte to him disobeisant thurgh concupis- 
 cence, which is called nourishing of sinne, and 
 occasion of sinne. Therfore, all the while that 
 a man hath within him the peine of concupis- 
 cence, it is impossible, but he be tempted som- 
 time, and moved in his flesh to sinne. And this 
 thing may not faile, as long as he liveth. It 
 may wel waxe feble by vertue of Baptisme, and 
 by the grace of God thurgh penitence; but fully 
 ne shal it never quenche, that he ne shal som-
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. 283 
 
 time be meved in himselfe, but if he were re- 
 freined by sikenesse, or malefice of sorcerie, or 
 cold drinkes. For lo, what saytli Seint Poule: 
 the flesh coveiteth ayenst the spirit, and the 
 spirit ayenst the flesh: they ben so contrarie 
 and so striven, that a man may not alway do as 
 he wokl. The same Seint Poule, after his gret 
 penance, in water and in lond; in water by night 
 and by day, in gret peril, and in gret peine; in 
 h)nd, in grete famine and thurst, cohl and cloth- 
 les, and ones stoned ahiiost to deth; yet sayd 
 he, alas! I caitif man, who shal deliver me fro 
 the prison of my caitif body? And Seint Jerom, 
 whan he long time had dwelled in desert, wheras 
 he had no compagnie but of wilde bestes; wher 
 as he had no mete but herbes, and water to his 
 drinke, ne no bed but the naked erth, wherfore 
 his flesh was black, as an Ethiopian, for hete, 
 and nie destroyed for cold: yet sayd he, that 
 the brenning of lecherie boiled in all his body, 
 Wherfore I wot wel sikerly that they be de- 
 ceived that say, they be not tempted in hir bo- 
 dies. Witnesse Seint James that said, that every 
 wight is tempted in his owen conscience; that 
 is to say, that eche of us hath mater and occa- 
 sion to be tempted of the norishing of sinne, that 
 is in his body. And therfore sayth Seint John 
 the Evangelist: if we say that we ben without 
 sinne, we deceive ourself, and truth is not in us. 
 
 Now shul ye understonde, in what maner 
 sinne wexeth and encreseth in man. The first 
 thing is that nourishing of sinne, of which I 
 spake before, that is concupiscence: and after 
 that cometh suggestion of the divel, this is to
 
 284 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 say, the divels belous, M'ith which he bloweth in 
 man the fire of concupiscence : and after that a 
 man bethinketh him, whether he wol do or no 
 that thing to which he is tempted. And than if 
 a man withstood and weive the first entising of 
 of his flesh, and of the fend, than it is no sinne: 
 and if so be he do not, than feleth he anon a 
 flame of debt, and than it is good to beware and 
 kepe him wel, or elles he wol fall anon to con- 
 senting of sinne, and than wol he do it, if he 
 may have time and place. And of this mater 
 sayth Moyses by the devil, in this maner: the 
 fend sayth, 1 wol chace and pursue man by 
 wicked suggestion, and I woi bent him by raev- 
 ing and stirring of sinne, and I wol depart my 
 pris, or my prey, by deliberation, and my hist 
 shal be accomplised in delit; I wol draw my 
 swerd in consenting: (for certes, right as a 
 swerd. departeth a thing in two peces, right so 
 consenting departeth God fro man) and than wol 
 I sle him with my honde in dede of sinne. Thus 
 sayth the fend; for certes, than is a man al ded 
 in soule; and thus is sinne accomplised, by temp- 
 tation, by delit, and by consenting: and than is 
 the sinne actuel. 
 
 Forsoth sinne is m two maners, either it is 
 venial, or dedly sinne. Sothly, whan a man 
 loveth any creature more than Jesu Crist our 
 creatour, than it is dedly sinne : and venial sinne 
 it is, if a man love Jesu Crist lesse than him 
 ought. Forsoth the dede of this venial sinne is 
 ful perilous, for it anienuseth the love that man 
 shuld have to God, more and more. And ther- 
 fore if a man charge himself with many swiche
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. 285 
 
 venial sinnes, certes, but if so be that he som- 
 time discharge hini of hem by shrift, they may 
 wel lightly amenuse in him all the love that he 
 hath to Jesu Crist: and in this wise skippeth 
 venial sinne into dedly sinne. For certes, the 
 more that a man chargeth his soule with venial 
 sinnes, the more he is enclined to fall into dedly 
 sinne. And therfore let us not be negligent to 
 discharge us of venial sinnes. lor the pro- 
 verbe sayth, that many smal maken a gret. And 
 herken this ensample : A gret wawe of the see 
 Cometh somtime with so gret a violence, that it 
 drencheth the ship: and the same harme do 
 somtime the smal dropes of water, that enterea 
 thurgh a litel crevis in the thurrok, and in the 
 botom of the ship, if men ben so negligent, that 
 they discharge hem not by time. And therfore 
 although ther be difference betwix thise two 
 causes of drenching, algates the ship is dreint. 
 Right so fareth it somtime of dedly sinne, and 
 of anoious venial sinnes, whan they multiplie in 
 man so gretly, that thilke worldly thinges that 
 he loveth, thurgh which he sinneth venially, is 
 as gret in his herte as the love of God, or more: 
 and therfore the love of every thing that is not 
 beset in God, ne don principally for Goddes 
 sake, although that a man love it lesse than 
 God, yet is it venial sinne; and dedly sinne is, 
 whan the love of any thing weigheth in the herte 
 of man, as moche as the love of God, or more. 
 Dedly sinne, as sayth Seint Augustine, is, whan 
 a man tourneth his herte fro God, whiche that is 
 veray soveraine bountee, that may not chaunge, 
 and yeveth his herte to thing that may chaunge 
 
 B B 2
 
 286 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 and flitte: and certes, that is every thing save 
 God of heven For soth is, that if a man yeve 
 his love, which that he ovreth to God with all 
 his herte, unto a creature, certes, as nioche of 
 his love as he yeveth to the same creatine, so 
 moche he bereveth fro God, and therfore doth 
 he sinne : for he, that is dettour to God, ne yeld- 
 eth not to God all his dette, that is to sayn, all 
 the love of his herte. 
 
 Now sith man understondeth generally, which 
 is venial sinne, than is it covenable to tell spe- 
 cially of sinnes, whiche that many a man pera- 
 venture demeth hem no sinnes, and shriveth him 
 not of the same, and yet natheles they be sinnes 
 sothly, as thise clerkes writen; this is to say, at 
 every tyme that man eteth and drinketh more 
 than suiEceth to the sustenance of his body, in 
 certain he doth sinne; eke whan he speketh 
 more than it nedeth, he doth sinne; eke whan 
 he herkeneth not benignely the complaint of the 
 poure; eke whan he is in hele of body, and wol 
 not fast whan other folk fast, without cause re- 
 sonable; eke whan he slepeth more than nedeth, 
 or whan he cometh by that encheson to late to 
 chirche, or to other werkes of charitee; eke whan 
 he useth his wif Avithouten soveraine desire of 
 engendrure, to the honour of God, or for the 
 entent to yeld his wif his dette of his body; eke 
 whan he wol not visite the sike, or the prisoner, 
 if he may; eke if he love wif or child, or other 
 worldly thing, more than reson requireth; eke if 
 he flater or blandise more than him ought for any 
 necessitee; eke if he amenuse or withdrawe the 
 almpsse of the poure; eke if he apparaile his
 
 THE PERSONES TALB. 287 
 
 mete more deliciously than nede is, or ete it to 
 hastily by likerousnesse; eke if he talke vani- 
 tees in the chirche, or at Goddes service, or that 
 he be a taler of idle wordes of foly or vilanie, for 
 he shal yeld accomptes of it at the day of dome; 
 eke whan he behighteth or assureth to don thinges 
 that he may not perfourme; eke whan that he by 
 lightnesse of foly missayeth or scorneth his neigh- 
 bour; eke whan he hath ony wicked suspecioa 
 of thins, ther he ne wote of it no sothfastnesse : 
 thise thinges and mo withouten nombre be sinnes, 
 as sayth Seint Augustine. Now shul ye under- 
 stonde, that al be it so that non erthly man may 
 eschewe al venial sinnes, yet may he refreine 
 him, by the brenning love that he hath to our 
 Lord Jesu Crist, and by prayer and confession, 
 and other good werkes, so that it shal but litel 
 grieve. For as sayth Seint Augustine; if a man 
 love God in swiche maner, that all that ever he 
 doth is in the love of God, or for the love of 
 God veraily, for he brenneth in the love of God, 
 loke how moche that o drope of water, which 
 falleth into a fourneis ful of fire, anoieth or 
 greveth the brenning of the fire, in like maner 
 anoieth or greveth a venial sinne unto that man, 
 whiche is stedfast and parfite in the love of our 
 Saviour Jesu Crist. Furthermore, men may also 
 refreine and put away venial sinne, by receiving 
 worthily the precious body of Jesu Crist; by re- 
 ceiving eke of holy water; by almes dede; by 
 general confession of Conjiteor at Masse, and 
 at prime, and at complin, and by blessing of 
 Bishoppes and Preestes, and by other good 
 werkes.
 
 288 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 De septem peccatis mortalibus. 
 
 Now it is behovely to tellen whiche ben dedly 
 sinnes, that is to say, chiefetaines of sinnes; for 
 as moche as all they reii in o lees, but in divers 
 maners. Now ben they cleped chiefetaines, for 
 as moche as they be chiefe, and of hem springen 
 all other sinnes. The rote of thise sinnes than 
 is pride, the general rote of all harmes. For of 
 this rote springen certain braunches : as ire, en- 
 vie, accidie or slouthe, avarice or coveitise, (to 
 commun understonding) glotonie, and lecherie: 
 and eche of thise chief sinnes hath his braunches 
 and his twigges, as shal be declared in hir cha- 
 pitres folowing. 
 
 De superhia. 
 
 And though so be, that no man knoweth ut- 
 terly the nombre of the twigges, and of the 
 harmes that comen of pride, yet wol I shew a 
 partie of hem, as ye shul understond. Ther is 
 inobedience, avaunting, ipocrisie, despit, arro- 
 gance, impudence, swelling of herte, insolence, 
 elation, impatience, strif, contumacie, presump- 
 tion, irreverence, pertinacie, vaine glorie, and 
 many other twigges that I cannot declare. In- 
 obedient is he that disobeyeth for despit to the 
 commandements of God, and to his soveraines, 
 and to his gostly fader. Avauntour, is he that 
 bosteth of the harme or of the bountee that he 
 hath don. Ipocrite, is he that hideth to shew 
 him swiche as he is, and sheweth him to seme 
 swiche as he is not. Despitous, is he that hath 
 disdain of his neighebour, that is to sayn, of his 
 even Cristen, or hath despit to do that him ought
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. 209 
 
 to do. Arrogant, is he that thinketh that he 
 iiath those bountees in him, that he liath not, or 
 weneth that he shukle have hem by his deserv- 
 ing, or elles that demeth that he be that he is 
 not. Impudent, is he that for his pride hath no 
 shame of his sinnes. Swelling of herte, is whan 
 man rejoyceth him of harme that he hath don. 
 Insolent, is he that despiseth in his jugement all 
 other folk, as in regarde of his value, of his con- 
 ning, of his speking, and of his bering. Elation, 
 is whan he ne may neither sufiVe to have maister 
 ne felawe. Impatient, is he that wol not be 
 taught, ne undernome of his vice, and by strif 
 werrieth truth wetingly, and defendeth his foly. 
 Contumax, is he that thurgh his indignation is 
 ayenst every auctoritee or power of hem that ben 
 his soveraines. Presumption, is whan a man 
 undertaketh an emprise that him ought not to 
 do, or elles that he may not do, and this is 
 called surquidrie. Irreverence, is whaji man 
 doth not honour ther as him ought to do, and 
 waiteth to be reverenced. Pertinacie, is whan 
 man defendeth his foly, and trusteth to moche 
 in his owen wit. Vaine glorie, is for to have 
 pompe, and debt in his temporel highnesse, and 
 and glorye him in his worldly estate. Jangling, 
 is whan man speketh to moche before folk, and 
 clappeth as a mille, and taketh no kepe what he 
 sayth. 
 
 And yet ther is a privee spice of pride, that 
 waiteth first to be salewed, or he wol salew, all 
 be he lesse worthy than that other is ; and eke 
 he waiteth to sit, or to go above him in the way, 
 or kisse the pax, or ben encensed, or gon to
 
 290 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 ofFring before his neighbour, and swiche sembla- 
 ble thiuges, ayenst his duetee peraventure, but 
 that he hath his herte and his entente, in swiche 
 a proude desire, to be magnified and honoured 
 beforn the peple. 
 
 Now ben ther two maner of prides; that on 
 of hem is within the herte of a man, and that 
 other is without. Of swiche sothly thise fore- 
 sayd thinges, and mo than I have sayd, apper- 
 teinen to pride, that is within the herte of man; 
 and ther be other spices of pride that ben with- 
 outen: but natheles, that on of thise spices of 
 pride is signe of that other, right as the gay leve- 
 sell at the Taverne is signe of the win that is in 
 the celler. And this is in many thinges : as in 
 speche and contenance, and outragious array of 
 clothing: for certes, if ther had ben no sinne in 
 clothing, Crist wold not so sone have noted and 
 spoken of the clothing of thilke rich man in the 
 gospel. And, as Seint Gregory sayth, that pre- 
 cious clothing is culpable for the derthe of it, and 
 for his softnesse, and for his strangenesse and 
 disguising, and for the superfluitee, or for the in- 
 ordinate scantnesse of it, alas ! may not a man 
 see as in our daies, the sinneful costlewe array 
 of clothing, and namely in to moche superfluitee, 
 or elles in to disordinate scantnesse? 
 
 As to the firste sinne in superfluitee of cloth- 
 ing, whiche that maketh it so dere, to the harme 
 of the peple, not only to the coste of the en- 
 brouding, the disguising, endenting, or barring, 
 ounding, paling, winding, or bending, and sem- 
 blable wast of cloth in vanitee; but ther is also 
 the costlewe furring in hir gouues, so moche
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. 291 
 
 pounsoning of chesel to maken holes, so moche 
 dagging- of sheres, with the superfluitee in length 
 of the foresaide gounes, traiUng in the dong and 
 in the myre, on hors and eke on foot, as wel of 
 man as of woman, that all thilke trailing is ve- 
 raily (as in ettect) wasted, consumed, thiedbare, 
 and rotten v*ith dong, rather than it is yeven to 
 the poure, to gret damage of the foresayd poure 
 folk, and that in sondry wise: this is to sayn, 
 the more that cloth is v/asted, the more must it 
 cost to the poure peple for the scarcenesse; and 
 furtherover, if so be that they wolden yeve swiche 
 pounsoned and dagged clothing to the pome pe- 
 ple, it is not convenient to were for hir estate, 
 ne suffisant to bote hir necessitee, to kepe hem 
 fro the distemperance of the firmament. Upon 
 that other side, to speke of the horrible disor- 
 dinat scantnesse of clothing, as ben thise cutted 
 sloppes or hanselines, that thurgh hir shortenesse 
 cover not the shameful membres of man, to 
 wicked entente; alas! sora of hem shewen the 
 bosse and the shape of the horrible swollen mem- 
 bres, that semen like to the maladie of Hernia, 
 in the wrapping of hir hosen, and eke the but- 
 tokkes of hem behinde, that farea as it were the 
 hinder part of a she ape in the ful of the mone. 
 And moreover the wretched swollen membres 
 that they shew thurgh disguising, in departing 
 of hir hosen in white and rede, semeth that half 
 hir shameful privee membres were flaine. And 
 if so be that they departe hir hosen in other co- 
 lours, as is white and blewe, or white and blake, 
 or blake and rede, and so forth; than semeth it, 
 as by variance of colour, that the half part of
 
 292 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 hir privee membres ben corrupt by the fire of 
 Seint Anthonie, or by cancre, or other swiche 
 mischance. Of the hinder part of hir buttokkes 
 it is fill horrible for to see, for certes in that 
 partie of hir body ther as they piirgen hir stink- 
 ing ordure, that foule partie shewe they to the 
 peple proudely in despite of honestee, whiche 
 honestee that Jesu Crist and his frendes observed 
 to shewe in hir lif. Now as to the outrageous 
 array of women, God wote, that though the 
 visages of som of hem semen ful chaste and de- 
 bonaire, yet notifien they, in hir array of attire, 
 likerousnesse and pride. I say not that ho- 
 nestee in clothing of man or woman is uncoven- 
 able, but certes the superfluitee or disordinat 
 scarcitee of clothing is reprevable. Also the 
 sinne of ornament, or of apparaille, is in thinges 
 that apperteine to riding, as in to many delicat 
 hors, that ben holden for delit, that ben so faire, 
 fatte, and costlewe; and also in many a vicious 
 knave, that is susteined because of hem; in cu- 
 rious harneis, as in sadles, cropers, peitrels, and 
 bridles, covered with precious cloth and rich, 
 barred and plated of gold and silver. For which 
 God sayth liy Zacharie the Prophet, I wol con- 
 founde the riders of swiche hors. These folke 
 taken litel regard of the riding of Goddes sone 
 of heven, and of his harneis, whan he rode upon 
 the asse, and had non other harneis but the 
 poure clothes of his disciples, ne we rede not 
 that ever he rode on ony olher beste. I speke 
 this for the sinne of superfluitee, and not for ho- 
 nestee, whan reson it requireth. And more- 
 over, certes pride is gretly notified in holding of
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. 293 
 
 g'ret meinie, whan they ben of litel profite or of 
 right no protite, and namely whan that meinie is 
 felonous and daraageous to the peple by har- 
 dinesse of high lordeship, or by way of office; 
 for certes, swiche lordes sell than hir lordeship 
 to the Devil of helle, whan they susteine the 
 wickednesse of hir meinie. Or elles, whan thise 
 folk of low degree, as they that holden hostel- 
 ries, susteinen thefte of hir hostellers, and that 
 is in many maner of deceites : thilke maner of 
 folk ben the flies that folowen the bony, or elles 
 the houndes that folowen the caraine. Swiche 
 foresayde folk stranglen spirituelly hir lordeshipes ; 
 for which thus saith David the Prophet; wicked 
 deth mot come unto thilke lordeshipes, and God 
 yeve that they mot descend into helle, all doun; 
 for in hir houses is iniquitee and shrewednesse, 
 and not God of heven. And certes, but if they 
 don amendement, right as God yave his beni- 
 son to Laban by the service of Jacob, and to 
 Pharao by the service of Joseph, right so God 
 wol yeve his malison to swiche lordeshipes as 
 susteine the wickednesse of hir servants, but 
 they come to amendement. Pride of the table 
 appereth eke ful oft; for certes riche men be 
 cleped to festes, and poure folk be put away 
 and rebuked; and also in excesse of divers 
 metes and drinkes, and namely swiche maner 
 bake metes and dishe metes brenning of wilde 
 fire, and peinted and castelled with paper, and 
 semblable wast, so that it is abusion to thinke. 
 And eke in to gret preciousnesse of vessell, and 
 curiositee of minstralcie, by which a man is 
 stirred more to the delites of luxurie, if so be 
 VOL. u. c c
 
 294 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 that he sette his herte the lesse upon oure Lord 
 Jesu Crist, it is a sinae; and certainely the de- 
 htes might ben so gret in this cas, that a man 
 might lightly fall by hem into dedly sinne. The 
 spices that sourden of pride, sothly whan they 
 sourden of malice imagined, avised, and fore- 
 caste, or elles of usage, ben dedly sinnes, it is 
 no doute. And whan they sourden by freeltce 
 unavised sodenly, and sodenly withdraw again, 
 al be they grevous sinnes, I gesse that they be 
 not dedly. Now might men aske, wherof that 
 pride sourdeth and springeth. I say that som- 
 time it springeth of the goodes of nature, som- 
 time of the goodes of fortune, and somtime of 
 the goodes of grace. Certes the goodes of na- 
 ture stonden only in the goodes of the body, or 
 of the soule. Certes, the goodes of the body 
 ben hele of body, strength, delivernesse, beautee, 
 gentrie, franchise; the goodes of nature of the 
 soule ben good wit, sharpe understonding, subtil 
 engine, vertue natural, good memorie : goodes of 
 fortune ben riches, high degrees of lordshipes, 
 and preisinges of the peple : goodes of grace ben 
 science, power to sufFre spirituel travaile, beuig- 
 nitee, vertuous contemplation, withstonding of 
 temptation, and semblable thinges: of which 
 foresayd goodes, certes it is a gret folic, a man 
 to priden him in ony of hem all. Now as for to 
 speke of goodes of nature, God wote that som- 
 time we have hem in nature as moche to our 
 damage as to our profite. As for to speke of 
 hele of body, trewely it passeth ful lightly, and 
 also it is ful ofte encheson of sikenesse of the 
 soule: for God wote, the flesh is a gret enemy
 
 THE PERSON ES TALE. 295 
 
 to the soule : and therfoie the more that the 
 body is hole, the more be we in peril to falle. 
 Eke for to priden him in his strength of body, it 
 is a o-rete foiie : for certes the tiesh coveiteth 
 ayenst the spirite: and ever the more strong 
 that the tiesh is, the sorier may the soule be: 
 and over all, this strength of body, and worldly 
 hardinesse, causeth ful oft to many man peril 
 and mischance. Also to have pride of gentrie 
 is right gret folic: for oft time the gentrie of the 
 body benimeth the gentrie of the soule : and also 
 we ben all of o fader and of o moder: and all 
 we ben of o nature rotten and corrupt, both 
 riche and poure. Forsoth o maner gentrie is for 
 to preise, that appareilleth mannes corage with 
 vertues and moralitees, and maketh him Cristes 
 child; for trusteth wel, that over what man that 
 sinne hath maistrie, he is a veray cherl to sinne. 
 
 Now ben ther general signes of gentilnesse; 
 as eschewing of vice and ribaudrie, and servage 
 of sinne, in word, and in werk and contenance, 
 and using vertue, as courtesie, and clenenesse, 
 and to be liberal; that is to say, large by me- 
 sure; for thilke that passeth mesure, is folic and 
 sinne. Another is to remember him of bountee, 
 that he of other folk hath received. Another is 
 to be benigne to his subgettes; wherfore saith 
 Seneke; ther is nothing more covenable to a 
 man of high estate, than debonairtee and pitee : 
 and therfore thise flies that men clepen bees, 
 Mhan they make hir king, they chesen on that 
 hath no pricke, wherwith he may sting. Ano- 
 ther is, man to have a noble herte and a diligent, 
 to atteine to high vertuous thinges. Now certes,
 
 296 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 a man to priden him in the goodes of grace, is 
 eke an outrageous folie : for thilke yeftes of grace 
 that shuld have tourned him to goodnesse, and 
 to medicine, tourneth him to venime and confu- 
 sion, as sayth Seint Gregorie. Certes also, who 
 so prideth him in the goodnesse of ^fortune, he is 
 a gret fool : for somtime is a man a gret lord by 
 the raorwe, that is a caitife and a wretch or it be 
 night : and somtime the richesse of a man is 
 cause of his deth : and somtime the delites of a 
 man ben cause of grevous maladie, thurgh which 
 he dieth. Certes, the commendation of the pe- 
 ple is ful false and brotel for to trust; this day 
 they preise, to-morwe they blame. God wote, 
 desire to have commendation of the peple hath 
 caused deth to many a besy man. 
 
 Remedium SiiperhicB. 
 
 Now sith that so is, that ye have understond 
 what is pride, and which be the spices of it, and 
 how mennes pride sourdeth and springeth; now 
 ye shul understond which is the remedie ayenst 
 it. Humilitee or mekenesse is the remedy ayenst 
 pride; that is a vertue, thurgh which a man hath 
 veray knowlege of himself, and holdeth of him- 
 self no deintee, ne no pris, as in regard of his de- 
 sertes, considering ever his freeltee. Now ben 
 ther three maner of humilitees; as humilitee in 
 herte, and another in the mouth, and the thridde 
 in werkes. The humilitee in herte is in foure 
 maners : that on is, whan a man holdeth himself 
 as nought worth before God of heven : the se- 
 cond is, whan he despiseth non other man: the 
 thridde is, whan he ne recketh nat though men
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. 297 
 
 liolde him nought worth: and the fourth is, whan 
 he is not sory of his humiliation. Also the hu- 
 militee of mouth is in foure thinges; in attem- 
 perat speche; in hurailitee of speche; and whan 
 he confesseth with his owen mouth, that lie is 
 swiche as he thinketh that he is in his herte: 
 another is, whan he preiseth the bountee of ano- 
 ther man and nothing therof amenuseth. Hu- 
 railitee eke in werkes is in foure maners. The 
 lirst is, whan he putteth other men before him; 
 the second is, to chese the lowest place of all; 
 the thridde is, gladly to assent to good conseil; 
 the fourth is, to stond gladly to the award of his 
 soveraine, or of him that is higher in degree: 
 certain this is a gret werk of humilitee. 
 
 De Invidia. 
 
 After pride wol I speke of the foule sinne of 
 Envie, which that is, after the word of the phi- 
 losopher, sorwe of other mennes prosperitee; 
 and after the word of Seint Augustine, it is 
 sorwe of other mennes wele, and joye of other 
 mennes havme. This foule sinne is platly ayenst 
 the holy gost. Al be it so, that every sinne is 
 ayenst the holy gost, yet natheles, for as moche 
 as bountee apperteineth proprely to the, holy 
 gost, and envie cometh proprely of malice, ther- 
 fore it is proprely ayenst the bountee of the holy 
 Gost. Now hath malice two spices, that is to 
 say. hardinesse of herte in wickednesse, or elles 
 the flesh of man is so blind, that he considereth 
 not that he is in sinne, or recketh not that he is 
 in sinne; which is the hardinesse of the divel. 
 That other spice of envie is, whan that a man 
 
 c c 2
 
 298 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 wenieth tiouth, whan he wot that it is trouth, 
 and also whan he werrieth the grace of God that 
 God hath yeve to his neighbour: and all this is 
 by envie. Certes than is envie the werst sinne 
 that is; for sothly all other sinnes be somtime 
 only ayenst on special vertue: but certes envie 
 is ayenst al maner vertues and alle goodnesse; 
 for it is sory of all bountee of his neighbour: 
 and in this maner it is divers from all other 
 sinnes ; for wel unnethe is ther any sinne that it 
 ne hath som debt in himself, save only envie, 
 that ever hath in himself anguish and sorwe. 
 The spices of envie ben these. Ther is first 
 sorwe of other mennes goodnesse and of hir 
 prosperitee; and prosperitee ought to be kindly 
 mater of joye; than is envie a sinne ayenst 
 kinde. The seconde spice of envie is joye of 
 other mennes harme; and that is proprely like 
 to the divel, that ever rejoyseth him of mannes 
 harme. Of thise two spices cometh backbiting; 
 and this sinne of backbiting or detracting hath 
 certain spices, as thus: som man preiseth his 
 neighbour by a wicked entente, for he maketh 
 alway a wicked knotte at the laste ende : alway 
 he maketh a hut at the last ende, that is digne 
 of more blame, than is worth all the preising. 
 The second spice is, that if a man be good, or 
 doth or sayth a thing to good entente, the back- 
 biter wol turne all that goodnesse up so doun to 
 his shrewde entente. The thridde is to amen- 
 use the bountee of his neighbour. The fourthe 
 spice of backbiting is this, that if men speke 
 goodnesse of a man, than wol the backbiter say; 
 Parfay swiche a man is yet better than he; in
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. 299 
 
 dispreising' of him that men preise. The fifth 
 spice is this, for to consent gladly to herken the 
 harme that men speke of other folk. This sinne 
 is ful gret, and ay encreseth after the wicked en- 
 tent of the backbiter. After backbiting cometh 
 grutching or murmurance, and soratime it spring- 
 eth of impatience ayenst God, and somtime 
 ayenst man. Ayenst God it is whan a man 
 grutcheth ayenst the peine of helle, or ayenst 
 poverte, or losse of catel, or ayenst rain or tem- 
 pest, or elles grutcheth that shrewes have pros- 
 peritee, or elles that good men have adversitee : 
 and all thise thinges shuld men sufFre patiently, 
 for they comen by the rightful jugement and or- 
 dinance of God. Somtime cometh grutching of 
 avarice, as Judas grutched ayenst the Magde- 
 leine, whan she anointed the hed of our Lord 
 Jesu Crist with hire precious oynement. This 
 maner murmuring is swiche as whan man grutch- 
 eth of aoodnesse that himself doth, or that other 
 folk don of hir owen catel. Somtime cometh 
 murmur of pride, as whan Simon the Pharisee 
 grutched ayenst the Magdeleine, whan she ap- 
 proched to Jesu Crist and wept at his feet for 
 hire sinnes: and somtime it sourdetli of envie, 
 whan men discover a mannes harme that was 
 privee, or bereth him on bond thing that is false. 
 Murmur also is oft among servants, that grutchen 
 whan hir soveraines bidden hem do leful thinges; 
 and for as raoche as they dare not openly with- 
 say the commaundement of hir soveraines, yet 
 wol they say harme and grutche and murmure 
 prively for veray despit; which wordes they 
 call the divels Pater noster, though so be that
 
 300 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 the divel had never Pater noster, but that lewed 
 folke yeven it swiche a name. Somtime it 
 Cometh of ire or privee hate, that norisheth ran- 
 cour in the herte, as afterward I shal declare. 
 Than cometh eke bitternesse of herte, thurgh 
 which bitternesse every good dede of his neigh- 
 bour semeth to him bitter and unsavory. Than 
 Cometh discord that unbindeth all maner of frend- 
 ship. Than cometh scorning of his neighbour, 
 al do he never so wel. Than cometh accusing, 
 as whan a man seketh occasion to annoyen his 
 neighbour, which is like the craft of the divel, 
 that waiteth both day and night to accusen us 
 all. Than cometh malignitee, thurgh which a 
 man annoieth his neighbour prively if he may, 
 and if he may not, algate his wicked will shal not 
 let, as for to brenne his hous prively, or enpoison 
 him, or sle his bestes, and semblable thinges. 
 
 Remedium Invidice. 
 
 Now wol I speke of the remedie ayenst this 
 fonle sinne of envie. Firste is the love of God 
 principally, and loving of his neighbour as him- 
 self: for sothly that on ne may not be without 
 that other. And trust wel, that in the name of 
 thy neighbour thou shalt understande the name 
 of thy brother; for certes all v/e have on fader 
 fleshly, and on moder; that is to say, Adam and 
 Eve; and also on fader spirituel, that is to say, 
 God of heven. Thy neighbour art thou bounde 
 for to love, and will him all goodnesse, and ther- 
 fore sayth God; Love thy neighbour as thyself; 
 that is to say, to salvation both of lif and soule. 
 And moreover thou shalt love him in word, and
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. 301 
 
 in benigne amonesting and chastising, and com- 
 fort him in his anoyes, and praye for him with all 
 thy herte. And in dede thou shalt love him in 
 swiche wise that thou shalt do to him in charitee, 
 as thou woldest that it were don to thin owen 
 person: and therfore thou ne shalt do him no 
 damage in wicked word, ne harme in his body, 
 ne in his catel, ne in his soule by eiitising of 
 wicked ensample. Thou shalt not desire his 
 wif, ne non of his thinges. Understonde eke 
 that in the name of neighbour is comprehended 
 his enemy: certes man shal love his enemy for 
 the commandment of God, and sothly thy frend 
 thou shalt love in God. I say thin enemy shalt 
 thou love for Goddes sake, by his commande- 
 ment: for if it were reson that man shulde hate 
 his enemy, forsoth God n'olde not receive us to 
 his love that ben his enemies. Ayenst three 
 maner of wronges, that his enemy doth to him, 
 he shal do three things, as thus : ayenst hate 
 and rancour of herte, he shal love him in herte: 
 ayenst chiding and wicked wordes, he shal pray 
 for his enemy: ayenst the wicked dede of his 
 enemy he shal do him bountee. For Crist sayth : 
 Love your enemies, and prayeth for hem that 
 speke you harme, and for hem that chasen and 
 pursuen you : and do bountee to hem that haten 
 you. Lo, thus commandeth us our Lord Jesu 
 Crist to do to our enemies : forsoth nature driveth 
 us to love our frendes, and parfay our enemies 
 have more nede of love than our frendes, and 
 they that more nede have, certes to hem shal 
 men do goodnesse. And certes in thilke dede 
 have we remembrance of the love of Jesu Crist
 
 302 • CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 that died for his enemies : and in as moche as 
 thilke love is more grevous to perforrae, so 
 moche is more gret the merite, and therfore the 
 loving of our enemy hath confounded the venime 
 of the divel. For right as the divel is con- 
 founded by humilitee, right so is he vv^ounded to 
 the deth by the love of our enemy: certes thaa 
 is love the medicine that casteth out the venime 
 of envie fro mannes herte. 
 
 De Ira. 
 
 After envy wol I declare of the sinne of Tre : 
 for sothly who so hath envy upon his neighbour, 
 anon communly wol fiude him mater of wrath in 
 word or in dede ayenst him to whom he hath 
 envie. And as wel cometh Tre of pride as of 
 envie. for sothly he that is proude or envious is 
 lightly wroth. 
 
 This sinne of Ire, after the discriving of Seint 
 Augustin, is wicked will to be aveuged by word 
 or by dede. Ire, after the Philosophre, is the 
 fervent blode of man yquicked in his herte, 
 thurgh which he wold harme to him that he 
 hateth : for certes the herte of man by enchauf- 
 ing and meving of his blood waxeth so troubled, 
 that it is out of all maner jugement of reson. 
 But ye shul understonde that Ire is in two ma- 
 ilers, that on of hem is good, and that other is 
 wicked. The good ire is by jalousie of good- 
 nesse, thurgh the which man is wroth with 
 wickednesse, and again wickednesse. And ther- 
 fore saith the wise man, that ire is better than 
 play. This ire is with debonairtee, and it is 
 wrothe without bitternesse: not wrothe ayenst
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. 303 
 
 the man, but wrothe with the misdede of the 
 man: as saith the Prophet David; Irascimini, Sf 
 nolite peccare. N6w understond that wicked 
 ire is in two maners, that is to say, soden ire or 
 hasty ire without avisement and consenting of 
 reson; the raening and the sense of this is, that 
 the reson of a man ne consenteth not to that 
 soden ire, and than it is venial. Another ire is 
 that is ful wicked, that cometh of felonie of 
 herte, avised and cast before, with wicked will 
 to do vengeance, and therto his reson consenteth : 
 and sothly this is dedly sinne. This ire is so dis- 
 plesant to God, that it troubleth his hous, and 
 chaseth the holy Gost out of mannes soule, and 
 wasteth and destroyeth that likenesse of God, 
 that is to say, the vertue that is in mannes soule, 
 and putteth in him the likenesse of the devil, and 
 beninieth the man fro God that is his rightful 
 Lord. This ire is a ful gret plesance to the 
 devil, for it is the devils forneis that he en- 
 chaufeth with the lire of helle. For certes right 
 so as fire is more mighty to destroie erthly 
 thinges, than any other element, right so ire is 
 mighty to destroie all spirituel thinges, Loke 
 how that fire of smal gledes, that ben almost ded 
 under ashen, wol quicken ayen whan they ben 
 touched with brimstone, right so ire wol ever- 
 more quicken ayen, whan it is touched with 
 pride that is covered in mannes herte. For 
 certes fire ne may not come out of no thing, but 
 if it were first in the same thing naturelly: as 
 fire is drawne out of flintes with stele. And 
 right so as pride is many times mater of ire, 
 right so is rancour norice aiid keper of ire. Ther
 
 304 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 is a manei' tree, as sayth Seint Isidore, that whan 
 men make a fire of the saide tree, and cover the 
 coles of it with ashen, sothly the fire therof wol 
 last all a yere or more : and right so fareth it of 
 rancour, whan it is ones conceived in the herte 
 of soni men, certes it wol lasten peraventure 
 from on Easterne day until another Easterne 
 day, or more. But certes the same man is ful 
 fer from the mercie of God all thilke while. 
 
 In this foresaid devils forneis ther forgen three 
 shrewes; pride, that ay bloweth and encreseth 
 the fire by chiding and wicked wordes: than 
 stondeth envie, and hoideth the hot yren upon 
 the herte of man, with a pair of longe tonges of 
 lonae rancour: and than stondeth the sinne of 
 contumelie oi- strif and cheste, and battereth and 
 forgeth by vilains reprevinges. Certes this cursed 
 shine annoyeth both to the man himself, and eke 
 his neighbour. For sothly almost all the harme 
 or damage that ony man doth to his neighbour 
 cometh of wrath: for certes, outrageous wrathe 
 doth all that ever the foule fende willeth or com- 
 mandeth him; for he ne spareth neyther for our 
 Lord Jesu Crist, ne his swete moder; and in his 
 outrageous anger and ire, alas! alas! ful many 
 on at that time, feleth in his herte ful wickedly, 
 both of Crist, and also of all his halwes. Is not 
 this a cursed vice? Yes certes. Alas! it be- 
 nimmeth fro man his witte and his reson, and all 
 his debonaire lif spirituel, that shuld kepe his 
 soule. Certes it benimmeth also Goddes due 
 lordship (and that is mannes soule) and the love 
 of his neighbours : it striveth also all day ayenst 
 trouth ; it reveth him the quiet of his herte, and 
 subvertetli his soule.
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. 305 
 
 Of ire comen thise stinking engendrures; firsts 
 hate, that is olde wrath : discord, thurgh which a 
 man forsaketh his ohle frend that he hath loved 
 ful long: and than cometh werre, and every 
 maner of wrong that a man doth to his neigh- 
 bour in body or in catel. Of this cursed sinne 
 of ire cometh eke manslaughter. And under- 
 stondeth wel that homicide (that is, man- 
 slaughter) is in divers wise. Som maner of ho- 
 micide is spirituel, and som is bodily. Spirituel 
 manslaughter is in six thinges. First, by hate, 
 as sayth St. John : He that hateth his brother, 
 is an homicide. Homicide is also by back- 
 biting; of which backbitours sayth Salomon, 
 that they have two swerdes, with which they 
 slay hir neighbours : for sothly as wicked it is 
 to benime of him his good name as his lif. 
 Homicide is also in yeving of wicked conseil 
 by fraude, as for to yeve conseil to areise wrong- 
 ful customes and talages; of which sayth Sa- 
 lomon: A lion roring, and a here hungrie, ben 
 like to cruel Lordes, in withholding or abregging 
 of the hire or of the wages of servantes, or elles in 
 usurie, or in withdrawing of the almesse of poure 
 folk. For which the wise man sayth: Fedeth 
 him that almost dieth for honger; for sothly but 
 if thou fede him thou sleest him. And all thise 
 ben dedly sinnes. Bodily manslaughter is whan 
 thou sleest him with thy tonge in other maner, 
 as whan thou commandest to sle a man, or elles 
 yevest conseil to sle a man. Manslaughter in 
 dede is in foure maners. That on is by lawe, 
 right as a justice dampneth him that is culpable 
 to the deth: but let the justice beware that he 
 
 VOL. II. D D
 
 306 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 do it rightfully, and that he do it not for deUt 
 to spill blood, but for keping of rightwisenesse. 
 Another homicide is don for necessitee, as whan 
 a man sleeth another in his defence, and that he 
 ne may non other wise escapen fro his owen 
 deth: but certain, and he may escape withouten 
 slaughter of his adversarie, he doth sinne, and 
 he shal here penance as for dedly sinne. Also 
 if a man by cas or aventure shete an arowe or 
 cast a stone, with which he sleeth a man, he is 
 an homicide. And if a woman by negligence 
 overlyeth hire child in hire slepe, it is homicide 
 and dedly sinne. Also whan a man disturbleth 
 conception of a childe, and maketh a woman 
 barein by drinkes of venimous herbes, thurgh 
 which she may not conceive, or sleeth hire child 
 by drinkes, or elles putteth certain material thing 
 in hire secret place to sle hire child, or elles doth 
 unkinde sinne, by which man, or woman, shedeth 
 his nature in place ther as a childe may not be 
 conceived: or elles if a woman hath conceived, 
 and hurteth hireself, and by that mishappe the 
 childe is slaine, yet is it homicide. What say 
 we eke of womea that muideren hir children for 
 drede of worldly shame? Certes, it is an hor- 
 rible homicide. Eke if a man approche to a 
 woman by desir of lecherie, thurgh which the 
 childe is perished; or elles smiteth a woman 
 wetingly, thurgh which she leseth hire child; all 
 thise ben homicides, and hoirible dedly sinnes. 
 Yet coraen ther of ire many mo sinnes, as wel 
 in worde, as in thought and in dede; as he that 
 arretteth upon God, or blaraeth God of the thing 
 of which he is himself gilty ; or despiseth God
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. 307 
 
 and all his halwes, as don thise cursed hasardours 
 in divers contrees. This cursed sinne don they, 
 whan they felen in hir herte ful wickedly of God 
 and of his halwes : also whan they treten unre- 
 verently the sacrament of the auter, thilke sinne 
 is so gret, that unneth it may be relesed, but 
 that the mercy of God passeth all his werkes, it 
 is so gret, and he so benigne. Than cometh 
 also of ire attry anger, whan a man is sharpely 
 amonested in his shrift to leve his sinne, than 
 wol he be angry, and answere hokerly and an- 
 gerly, to defend or excusen his sinne by tinsted- 
 fastnesse of his fleshe; or elles he did it for to 
 hold conipagnie with his felawes; or elles he 
 sayeth the fend enticed him ; or elles he did it 
 for his youthe; or elles his complexion is so 
 corageous that he may not forbere; or elles it is 
 his destinee, he sayth, unto a certain age; or 
 elles he sayth it cometh him of gentilnesse of 
 his auncestres, and semblable thinges. AH 
 thise maner of folke so wrappen hem in hir sinnes, 
 that they ne wol not deliver hemself ; for sothly, 
 no wight that excuseth himself wilfully of his 
 sinne, may not be delivered of his sinne, til that 
 he mekely beknoweth his sinne. After this than 
 cometh swering, that is expresse ayenst the com- 
 mandement of God : and that befalleth often of 
 anffer and of ire. God sayth; Thou shalt not 
 take the name of thy Lord God in idel. Also 
 our Lord Jesu Crist sayth by the word of Seint 
 Mathew; Ne shal ye not swere in all manere, 
 neyther by heven, for it is Goddes trone: ne by 
 erthe, for it is tiie benche of his feet: ne by Je- 
 rusalem, for it is the citee of a gret King: ne by
 
 308 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 thin hed, for thou ne mayst not make an here 
 white ne black: but he sayth, be your word, 
 ye, ye, nay, nay; and what that is more, it is of 
 evil. Thus sayth Crist. For Cristes sake swere 
 not so sinuefuUy, in dismembring of Crist, by 
 soule, herte, bones, and body: for certes it 
 semeth, that ye thinken that the cursed Jewes 
 dismembred him not ynough, but ye dismenibre 
 him more. And if so be that the lawe compell 
 you to swere, than reuleth you after the lawe of 
 Ood in your swering, as sayth Jeremie ; Thou 
 shalt kepe three conditions; thou shalt swere in 
 trouth, in dome, and in rightwisenesse. This is 
 to say, thou shalt swere soth; for every lesing is 
 ayenst Crist; for Crist is veray trouth : and thinke 
 wel this, that every gret swerer, not compelled 
 lawfully to swere, the plage shal not depart fro 
 his hous, while he useth unleful swering. Thou 
 shalt swere also in dome, whan thou art con- 
 streined by the domesman to witnesse a trouth. 
 Also thou shalt not swere for envie, neyther for 
 favour, ne for mede, but only for rightwisenesse, 
 and for declaring of trouthe to the honour and 
 worship of God, and to the aiding and helping 
 of thin even Cristen. And therfore every man 
 that taketh Goddes name in idel, or falsely 
 swereth with his mouth, or elles taketh on him 
 the name of Crist, to be called a Cristen man, 
 and liveth agenst Cristes living and his teching: 
 all they take Goddes name in idel. Loke also 
 what sayth Seint Peter; Actiinm iv. Non est 
 aliud nomen siih ccelo, &c. Ther is non other 
 name (sayth Seint Peter) under heven yeven to 
 men, in which they may be saved; that is to say,
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. 300 
 
 but the name of Jesu Crist. Take kepe eke how 
 precious is the name of Jesu Crist, as sayth Seint 
 Poule, ad PhiUpenses ii. In nomine Jesu, &C. 
 that in the name of Jesu every knee of hevenly 
 creature, or erthly, or of helle, shuki bowen; for 
 it is so high and so worshipful, that the cursed 
 fend in helle shukl tremble for to here it named. 
 Than semeth it, that men that swere so horribly 
 by his blessed name, that they despise it more 
 boldely than did the cursed Jewes, or elles the 
 divel, that trembleth whan he hereth his name. 
 
 Now certes, sith that swering (but if it be law- 
 fully don) is so highly defended, moche worse 
 is for to swere falsely, and eke nedeles. 
 
 What say we eke of hem that deliten hem in 
 swering, and hold it a genterie or manly dede to 
 swere gret othes? And what of hem that of 
 veray usage ne cese not to swere gret othes, al 
 be the cause not worth a strawe? Certes this is 
 horrible sinne. Swering sodenly without avise- 
 ment is also a gret sinne. But let us go now to 
 that horrible swering of adjuration and conju- 
 ration, as don thise false enchauntours and ni- 
 gromancers in basins ful of water, or in a bright 
 swerd, in a cercle, or in a fire, or in a sholder 
 bone of a shepe : I cannot sayn, but that they do 
 cursedly and damnably ayenst Crist, and all the 
 feith of holy chirche. 
 
 What say we of hem that beleven on divi- 
 nales, as by flight or by noise of briddes or of 
 bestes, or by sorte of georaancie, by dremes, by 
 chirking of dores, or craking of houses, by gnaw- 
 ing of rattes, and swiche maner wretchednesse? 
 Certes, all thise thinges ben defended by God 
 
 D D 2
 
 310 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 and holy chirche, for which they ben accursed, 
 till they come to amendement, that on swiche 
 filth set hir beleve. Charmes for woundes, or 
 for maladies of men or of bestes, if they take 
 any effect, it may be peraventure that God suf- 
 freth it, for folk shuld yeve the more feith and 
 reverence to his name. 
 
 Now wol I speke of lesinges, which generally 
 is false signifiance of word, in entent to deceive 
 his even Cristen. Some lesing is, of which ther 
 Cometh non avantage to no wight; and som 
 lesing turneth to the profite and ese of a man, 
 and to the dammage of another man. Another 
 lesing is, for to saven his lif or his catel. Ano- 
 ther lesing cometh of delit for to lie, in which 
 delit, they wol forge a long tale, and peint it 
 with all circumstances, wher all the ground of 
 the tale is false. Some lesing cometh, for he 
 wol sustein his word: and som lesing cometh 
 of recchelesnesse withouten avisement, and sem- 
 blable thinges. 
 
 Let us now touche the vice of flaterie, which 
 ne cometh not gladly, but for drede, or for co- 
 vetise. Flaterie is generally wrongful preising. 
 Flaterers ben the devils nourices, that nourish 
 his children with milke of losengerie. Forsoth 
 Salomon sayth, That flaterie is werse than de- 
 traction : for somtirae detraction maketh an hau- 
 tein man be the more humble, for he dredeth 
 detraction, but certes flaterie maketh a man to 
 enhaunce his herte and his contenance. Fla- 
 terers ben the devils enchauntours, for they 
 maken a man to wenen himself be like that he 
 is not like. They be like to Judas, that betrayed
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. 311 
 
 God; and thise flateiers betrayen man to selle 
 him to his enemy, that is the devil. Flateiers 
 ben the devils chappeleines, that ever singen 
 Placebo. I reken flaterie in the vices of ire: for 
 oft time if a man be wroth with another, than 
 wol he flater som wight, to susteine him in his 
 quarrel. 
 
 Speke we now of swiche cursing as cometh of 
 irous herte. Malison generally may be said 
 every maner power of harme : swiche cursing 
 bereveth man the regne of God, as sayth Seint 
 Poule. And oft time swiche cursing wrongfully 
 retorneth again to him that curseth, as a bird 
 retorneth again to his owen nest. And over all 
 thing men ought eschew to curse hir children, 
 and to yeve to the devil hir engendrure, as fer 
 forth as in hem is : certes it is a grete peril and 
 a grete sinne. 
 
 Let us than speke of chiding and repreving, 
 which ben ful grete woundes in mannes herte, 
 for they unsow the seames of frendship in 
 mannes herte: for certes, unnethe may a man 
 be plainely accorded with him, that he hath 
 openly reviled, repreved, and disclaundred: this 
 is a full grisly sinne, as Crist sayth in the Gospel. 
 And take ye kepe now, that he that repreveth his 
 neighbour, either he repreveth him by som harme 
 of peine, that he hath upon his bodie, as, Mesel, 
 croked harlot; or by som sinne that he doth. 
 IVow if he repreve him by harme of peine, than 
 turneth the repreve to Jesu Crist: for peine is 
 sent by the rightwise sonde of God,, and by his 
 sufFrance, be it meselrie, or maime, or maladie: 
 and if he repreve him undiaritably of sinne, as,
 
 312 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 thou holour, thou dronkelewe harlot, and so 
 forth; than apperteineth that to the rejoicing of 
 the devil, which ever hath joye that men don 
 sinne. And cartes,, chiding may not come but 
 out of a vilains herte, for after the haboundance 
 of the herte speketh the mouth ful oft. And ye 
 shul understond, that loke by any way, whan 
 ony man chastiseth another, that he beware fro 
 chiding or repreving: for trewely, but he beware, 
 he may ful lightly quicken the fire of anger and 
 of wrath, which he shuld quench: and peraven- 
 ture sleth him, that he might chastise with benig- 
 nitee. For, as sayth Salomon, the amiable tonge 
 is the tree of lif ; that is to say, of lif spirituel. 
 And sothly, a dissolute tonge sleth the spirit of 
 him that repreveth, and also of him which is re- 
 preved. Lo, what sayth Seint Augustine : Ther 
 is nothing so like the devils child, as he which 
 oft chideth. A servant of God behoveth not to 
 chide. And though that chiding be a vilains 
 thing betwix all maner folk, yet it is certes most 
 uncovenable betwene a man and his wif, for ther 
 is never rest. And therfore sayth Salomon; An 
 hous that is uncovered in rayn and dropping, and 
 a chiding wif, ben like. A man, which is in a 
 dropping hous in many places, though he eschew 
 the dropping in o place, it droppeth on him in 
 another place : so fareth it by a chiding wif; if 
 she chide him not in o place, she wol chide, him 
 in another; and therfore, better is a morsel of 
 bred with joye, than an hous filled ful of delices 
 with chiding, sayth Salomon. And Seint Poule 
 sayth; O ye women, beth ye subgettes to your 
 husbonds, as you behoveth in God; and ye men 
 loveth your wives.
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. 313 
 
 Afterward speke we of scorning, which is a 
 wicked sinue, and namely, whan he scorneth a 
 man for his good werkes : for certes, swiche 
 scorners faren like the foule tode, that may not 
 endure to smell the swete savour of the vine, 
 whan it flourisheth. Thise scorners ben parting 
 felawes with the devil, for they have joye whan 
 the devil winneth, and sorwe if he leseth. They 
 ben adversaries to Jesu Crist, for they hate that 
 he loveth; that is to say, salvation of soule. 
 
 Speke we now of wicked conseil, for he that 
 wicked conseil yeveth is a traitour, for he de- 
 ceiveth him that trusteth in him. But natheles, 
 yet is wicked conseil first ayenst himself: for, as 
 sayth the wise man, every false living hath this 
 propertee in himself, that he that wol annoy 
 another man, he annoyeth first himself. And 
 men shul understond, that man shal not take his 
 conseil of false folk, ne of angry folk, or grevous 
 folk, ne of folk that loven specially hir owen profit, 
 ne of to moche worldly folk, namely, in conseiling 
 of mannes soule. 
 
 Now Cometh the sinne of hem that maken dis- 
 cord among folk, which is a sinne that Crist 
 hateth utterly; and no wonder is; for he died for 
 to make concord. And more shame don they to 
 Crist, than did they that him crucified: for God 
 loveth better, that frendship be amonges folk, 
 than he did for his owen body, which that he 
 yave for unitee. Therfore ben they likened to 
 the devil, that ever is about to make discord. 
 
 Now Cometh the sinne of Double tonge, swiche 
 as speke faire before folk, and wickedly behind ; 
 or elles they make semblaunt as though they
 
 314 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 spake of good entention, or elles in game and 
 play, and yet they speken of wicked entente. 
 
 Now Cometh bewreying of conseil, thurgh 
 which, a man is defamed : certes unnethe may 
 he restore the damage. Now cometh manace, 
 that is an open folie: for he that oft manaceth, 
 he threteth more than he may performe ful oft 
 time. Now comen idel wordes, that be without 
 profite of him that speketh the wordes, and eke 
 of him that herkeneth the wordes: or elles idel 
 wordes ben tho that ben nedeles, or without en- 
 tente of naturel profit. And al be it that idel 
 wordes be somtime venial sinne, yet shuld men 
 doute hem, for we shul yeve rekening of hem 
 before God. Now cometh jangling, that may 
 not come withouten sinne : and as sayth Salo- 
 mon, it is a signe of apert folie. And therfore 
 a philosophre sayd, whan a man axed him how 
 that he shuld plese the peple, he answered; Do 
 many good werkes, and speke few jangelinges. 
 After this cometh the sinne of japeres, that ben 
 the devils apes, for they make folk to laugh at 
 hir japerie, as folk don at the gaudes of an ape : 
 swiche japes defendeth Seint Poule. Loke how 
 that vertuous wordes and holy coraforten hem 
 that travaillen in the service of Crist, right so 
 comforten the vilains words, and the knakkes of 
 japeres, hem that travaillen in the service of the 
 devil. Thise ben the sinnes of the tonge, that 
 comen of ire, and other sinnes many mo, 
 
 Remediiim Irce. 
 
 The remedie ayenst Ire, is a vertue that cleped 
 is mansuetude, that is Debonairtee: and eke
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. 315 
 
 another vertue, that men clepen patience or suf- 
 feraunce. 
 
 Deboiiairtee withdraweth and refreineth the 
 stirrings and mevings of mannes corage in his 
 hei'te, in swich maner, that they ne skip not out 
 by anger ne ire. Suft'erance siiffereth swetely 
 all the annoyance and the wrong that is don to 
 man outward. Seint Jerome sayth this of debo- 
 nairtee. That it doth no harrae to no wight, ne 
 sayth: ne for no harme that men do ne say, he 
 ne chafeth not ayenst reson. This vertue som- 
 time Cometh of nature; for, as sayth the philo- 
 sophre, a man is a quick thing, by nature debo- 
 naire, and tretable to goodnesse: but whan de- 
 bonairtee is enformed of grace, than it is the 
 more worth. 
 
 Patience is another remedy ayenst ire, and is 
 a vertue that suffereth swetely every mannes 
 goodnesse, and is not wroth for non harnie that 
 is don to him. The philosophre sayth, that 
 patience is the vertue that suffreth debonairly al 
 the outrage of adversitee, and every wicked 
 word. This vertue maketh a man like to God, 
 and maketh him Goddes owen childe: as sayth 
 Crist. This vertue discomfiteth thin enemies. 
 And therfore sayth the wise man; if thou wolt 
 vanquish thin enemie, see thou be patient. And 
 thou shalt understond, that a man suffereth foure 
 maner of grevances in outward thinges, ayenst 
 the which foure he must have foure maner of 
 patiences. 
 
 The first grevance is of wicked wordes. Thilke 
 grevance suffred Jesu Crist, without grutching, 
 ful patiently, whan the Jewes despised him and
 
 316 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 repreved him ful oft. Suffer thou therfore pa- 
 tiently, for the wise man saith : if thou strive with 
 a foole, though the foole be wroth, or though he 
 laugh, algate thou shalt have no reste. That 
 other grevance outward is to have domage of 
 thy eatel. Therayenst suffred Crist ful patiently, 
 whan he was despoiled of al that he had in this 
 lif, and that n'as but his clothes. The thridde 
 grevance is a man to have harme in his body. 
 That suftVed Crist ful patiently in all his passion. 
 The fourthe grevance is in outrageous labour in 
 werkes : wherfore I say, that folk that make hir 
 servants to travaile to grevously, or out of time, 
 as in holy dayes, sothly they do gret sinne. 
 Hereayenst suffred Crist ful patiently, and 
 taught us patience, whan he bare upon his 
 blessed sholders the crosse, upon which he 
 shuld suffer despitous deth. Here may men 
 lerne to be patient; for certes, not only cristen 
 men be patient for love of Jesu Crist, and for 
 guerdon of the blisful lif that is perdurable, but 
 certes, the old Payenes, that never were cris- 
 tened, commendeden and useden the vertue of 
 patience. 
 
 A philosophre upon a time, that wold have 
 beten his disciple for his gret trespas, for which 
 he was gretly meved, and brought a yerde to 
 bete the childe, and whan this child sawe the 
 yerde, he sayd to his maister: what thinke ye to 
 do? I wol bete thee, sayd the maister, for thy 
 correction. Forsoth, sayd the childe, ye ought 
 first correct yourself, that have lost all your pa- 
 tience for the offence of a child. Forsooth, sayd 
 the maister all weping, thou sayest soth: have
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. 317 
 
 thou the yerde, my dere sone, and correct me for 
 min impatience. Of patience cometh obedience, 
 thurgh which a man is obedient to Crist, and to 
 all hem to which he ought to be obedient in 
 Crist. And understand wel, that obedience is 
 parfite, whan that a man doth gladly and hastily, 
 with good herte entirely, all that he shukl do. 
 Obedience generally, is to performe hastily the 
 doctrine of God, and of his soveraines, to M'hich 
 him ought to be obeisant in all rightwisenesse. 
 
 De Accidia. 
 
 After the sinne of wrath, now wol I speke of 
 the sinne of accidie, or slouth : for envie blindeth 
 the herte of a man, and ire troubleth a man, and 
 accidie maketh him hevy, thoughtful, and wrawe. 
 Envie and ire maken bitternesse in herte, which 
 bitternesse is mother of accidie, and benimeth 
 him the love of alle goodnesse; tl^an is accidie 
 the anguish of a trouble herte. And Seint Au- 
 gustine sayth: It is annoye of goodnesse and 
 annoye of harme. Certes this is a damnable 
 sinne, for it doth wrong to Jesu Crist, in as 
 moche as it benimeth the service that men 
 shulde do to Crist with alle diligence, as sayth 
 Salomon : but accidie doth non swiche dili- 
 gence. He doth all thing with annoye, and 
 with wrawnesse, slaknesse, and excusation, with 
 idelnesse and unlust. For which the book sayth : 
 Accursed be he that doth the service of God 
 negligently. Than is accidie enemie to every 
 estate of man. For certes the estate of man is 
 in three maners : either it is the estate of inno- 
 cence, as was the estate of Adam, before that 
 
 VOL. II. E E
 
 318 CANTERBURY TALKS. 
 
 he fell into sinne, in Avhich estate he was holden 
 to werk, as in herying and adoring of God. 
 Another estate is the estate of sinful men: in 
 which estate men ben holden to labour in pray- 
 ing to God, for amendement of hir sinnes, and 
 that he wold graunt hem to rise out of hir sinnes. 
 Another estate is the estate of grace, in which 
 estate he is holden to werkes of penitence : and 
 certes, to all thise thinges is accidie eneraie and 
 contrary, for he loveth no besinesse at all. Now 
 certes, this foule sinne of accidie is eke a ful gret 
 enemie to the livelode of the body; for it ne 
 hath no purveaunce ayenst temporel necessitee; 
 for it forsleutheth, forsluggeth, and destroieth 
 all goodes temporel by recchelesnesse. 
 
 The fourth thing is that accidie is like hem 
 that ben in the peine of helle, because of hir 
 slouthe and of hir hevinesse: for they that be 
 damned, ben' so bound, that they may neyther 
 do wel ne think wel. Of accidie cometh first, 
 that a man is annoied and accorabred to do any 
 goodnesse, and that maketh that God hath ab- 
 homination of swiche accidie, as sayth Seint 
 John. 
 
 Now cometh slouthe, that wol not sufFre no 
 hardnesse ne no penance ; for sothly, slouthe is 
 so tendre and so delicat, as sayth Salomon, that 
 he wol sufFre non hardnesse ne penance, and 
 therfore he shendeth all that he doth. Ayenst 
 this roten sinne of accidie and slouthe shuld 
 men exercise hemself, and use hemself to do 
 good werkes, and manly and vertuously cachen 
 corage wel to do, thinking that our Lord Jesu 
 Crist quiteth every good deed, be it never so
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. 319 
 
 lite. Usage of labour is a gret thing: for it 
 maketh, as sayth Seiut Bernard, tlie labourer to 
 have strong armes and hard sinewes: and 
 slouthe maketh hem feble and tendre. Than 
 Cometh drede for to beginne to werke any good 
 werkes: for certes, he that enchneth to sinne, 
 him thinketh it is to gret an emprise for to un- 
 dertake the werkes of goodnesse, and casteth 
 in his herte, that the circumstances of good- 
 nesse ben so grevous and so chargeaut for to 
 suffre, that he dare not undertake to do werkes 
 of goodnesse, as sayth Seint Gregorie. 
 
 Now Cometh wanhope, that is, despeir of the 
 mercy of God, that cometh somtime of to moche 
 outrageous sorwe, and somtime of to moche drede, 
 imagining that he hath do so moche sinne, that it 
 wolde not availe him, though he wolde repent 
 him, and forsake sinne: thurgh which despeire 
 or drede, he abandoneth all his herte to every 
 maner sinne, as sayth Seint Augustine. Which 
 dampnable sinne, if it continue unto his end, it is 
 cleped the sinne of the holy gost. This horrible 
 sinne is so perilous, that he that is despeired, 
 ther n'is no felonie, ne no sinne, that he douteth 
 for to do, as shewed wel by Judas. Certes, 
 aboven all sinnes than is this sinne most dis- 
 plesant and most adversaria to Crist. Sothly, 
 he that despeireth him, is like to the coward 
 champion recreant, that flieth withouten nede. 
 Alas! alas! nedeles is he recreant, and nedeles 
 despeired. Certes, the mercy of God is ever 
 redy to the penitent person, and is above all his 
 werkes. Alas ! cannot a man bethinke him on 
 the Gospel of Seint Luke, chap. xv. wheras Crist
 
 320 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 sayeth, that as wel shal ther be joye in heven 
 upon a sinful man that doth penitence, as upon 
 ninety and nine rightful men that neden no pem- 
 tence? Loke further, in the same Gospel, the 
 joye and the feste of the good man that had lost 
 his sone, whan his sone was retourned with re- 
 pentance to his fader. Can they not remembre 
 hem also, (as sayth Seint Luke, chap, xxiii.) how 
 that the thefe that was honged beside Jesu Crist, 
 sayd. Lord, remembre on me, whan thou comest 
 in thy regne? Forsoth, said Crist, I say to thee, 
 to-day shalt thou be with me in paradis. Certes, 
 ther is non so horrible sinne of man, that ne may 
 in his lif be destroyed by penitence, thurgh ver- 
 tue of the passion and of the deth of Crist. Alas ! 
 what nedeth man than to be despeired, sith that 
 his mercy is so redy and large? Axe and have. 
 Than cometh sompnolence, that is, sluggy slum- 
 bring, which maketh a man hevy, and dull in 
 body and in soule, and this sinne cometh of 
 slouthe: and certes, the time that by way of 
 reson man shuld not slepe, is by the morwe, 
 but if ther were cause resonable. For sothly 
 in the morwe tide is most covenable to a man to 
 say his prayers, and for to think on God, and to 
 honour God, and to yeve alraesse to the poure 
 that comen first in the name of Jesu Crist. Lo, 
 what sayth Salomon? Who so wol by the morwe 
 awake to seke me, he shal find me. Than cometh 
 negligence or recchelesnesse that recketh of no- 
 thing. And though that ignorance be mother of 
 all harmes, certes, negligence is the norice. Neg- 
 ligence ne doth no force, whan he shal do a thing, 
 whether he do it wel or badly.
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. 321 
 
 The remedie of thise two sinnes is, as sayth 
 the wise man, that he that dredeth God, spareth 
 not to do that him ought to do ; and he that loveth 
 God, he wol do dihgence to plese God by his 
 werkes, and abandon himself, with all his might, 
 wel for to do. Than cometh idelnesse, that is 
 the yate of all harnies. An idel man is like to a 
 place that hath no walles; theras deviles may 
 enter on every side, or shoot at him at discoverte 
 by temptation on every side. This idelnesse is 
 the thurrok of all wicked and vilains thoushtes, 
 and of all jangeles, trifles, and all ordure. Certes 
 heven is yeven to hem that will labour, and not 
 to idel folk. Also David sayth, that ne be not 
 in the labour of men, ne they shul not ben 
 whipped with men, that is to say, in purgatorie. 
 Certes than semeth it they shul ben tormented 
 with the devil in helle, but if they do penance. 
 
 Than cometh the sinne that men clepen Tar- 
 ditas, as whan a man is latered, or taryed or he 
 wol tourne to God: and certes, that is a gret 
 folie. He is like him that falleth in the diche, 
 and wol not arise. And this vice cometh of 
 false hope, that thinketh that he shal live long, 
 but that hope failleth ful oft. 
 
 Than cometh Lachesse, that is, he that whan 
 he beginneth any good werk, anon he wol forlete 
 it and stint, as don they that have any wight to 
 governe, and ne take of him no more kepe, anon 
 as they find any contrary or any annoy. Thise 
 ben the newe shepherdes, that let hir shepe we- 
 tingly go renne to the wolf, that is in the breres, 
 and do no force of hir owen governance. Of 
 this cometh poverte and destruction, both of spi- 
 
 E E 2
 
 322 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 rituel and temporel thinges. Than cometh a 
 maner coldnesse, that freseth all the herte of 
 man. Than cometh undevotion, thurgh which 
 a man is so blont, as sayth Seint Bernard, and 
 hath swiche langour in his soule, that he may 
 neyther rede ne sing in holy chirche, ne here ne 
 thinke of no devotion, ne travaile with his hondes 
 in no good werk, that it n'is to him unsavory and 
 all apalled. Than wexeth he sluggish and 
 slombry, and sone wol he be wroth, and sone is 
 enclined to hate and to envie. Than cometh the 
 sinne of worldly sorwe swiche as is cleped Tris- 
 titia, that sleth a man, as sayth Seint Poule. 
 For certes swiche sorwe werketh to the deth of 
 the soule and of the body also, for therof cometh, 
 that a man is annoied of his owen lif. Wherfore 
 swiche sorwe shorteth the lif of many a man, or 
 that his time is come by way of kinde. 
 
 Remcdium Accidice. 
 
 Ayenst this horrible sinne of accidie, and the 
 braunehes of the same, ther is a vertue that is 
 called fortifudo or strength, that is, an aft'ection, 
 thurgh which a man despiseth noyous thinges. 
 This vertue is so mighty and so vigorous, that 
 it dare withstond mightily, and wrastle ayenst 
 the assautes of the devil, and wisely kepe him- 
 self fro periles that ben wicked; for it en- 
 haunseth and enforceth the soule, right as ac- 
 cidie abateth and maketh it feble : for this 
 fortitudo may endure with long sufferance the 
 travailles that ben covenable. 
 
 This vertue hath many spices; the first is 
 cleped magnanimitee, that is to say, gret co-
 
 THE PERSON ES TALE. 323 
 
 rage. For certes ther behoveth gret corage 
 ayenst accidie, lest that it swalowe tlie soule by 
 the sinne of sorwe, or destroy it with wanhope. 
 Certes, this vertue raaketh folk to undertake 
 hard and grevous thinges by hir owen will, 
 wisely and resonably. And for as moche as 
 the devil fighteth ayenst man more by queintise 
 and sleight than by strength, therfore shal a man 
 withstond him by wit, by reson, and by discretion. 
 Than ben ther the vertues of feith, and hope in 
 God and in his seintes, to acheven and accom- 
 plice the good werkes, in the which he purposeth 
 fermely to continue. Than conieth seuretee or 
 sikernesse, and that is whan a man ne douteth 
 no travaile in time coming of the good werkes 
 that he hath begonne. Than eometh magni- 
 ficence, that is to say, whan a man doth and 
 performeth gret werkes of goodnesse, that he 
 hath begonne, and that is the end why that men 
 shuld do good werkes. For in the accomplishing 
 of good werkes lieth the gret guerdon. Than is 
 ther Constance, that is stablenesse of corage, and 
 this shuld be in herte by stedfast feith, and in 
 mouth, and in bering, in chere, and in dede. 
 Eke ther ben mo special remedies ayenst ac- 
 cidie, in divers werkes, and in consideration of 
 the peines of helle and of the joyes of heven, 
 and in trust of the grace of the holy gost, that 
 will yeve him might to performe his good 
 entent. 
 
 De Avaritia. 
 
 After accidie wol I speke of avarice, ai.d of 
 coveitise. Of which sinne Seint Poule sayth:
 
 324 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 The rote of all harmes is coveitise. For sothly, 
 whan the herte of man is confounded in itself 
 and troubled, and that the soule hath lost the 
 comfort of God, than seketh he an idel solas of 
 worldly thinges. 
 
 Avarice, after the description of Seint Augus- 
 tine, is a likerousnesse in herte to have erthly 
 thinn-es. Som other folk sayn, that avarice is 
 for to purchase many erthly thinges, and nothing 
 to yeve to hem that han nede. And understond 
 wel, that avarice standeth not only in land ne 
 catel, but som time in science and in glorie, and 
 in every maner outrageous thing is avarice. And 
 the difference betwene avarice and coveitise is 
 this: coveitise is for to coveit swiche thinges as 
 thou hast not; and avarice is to withholde and 
 kepe swiche thinges as thou hast, without right- 
 ful nede. Sothly, this avarice is a sinne that is 
 ful darapiiable, for all holy writ curseth it, and 
 speketh ayenst it, for it doth wrong to Jesu 
 Crist; for it bereveth him the love that men to 
 him owen, and tourneth it backward ayenst all 
 reson, and maketh that the avaricious man hath 
 more hope in his catel than in Jesu Crist, and 
 doth more observance in keping of his tresour, 
 than he doth in the service of Jesu Crist. And 
 therfore sayth Seint Poul, That an avaricious 
 man is the thraldorae of idolatrie. 
 
 What difference is ther betwix idolastre, and 
 an avaricious man ? But that an idolastre pera- 
 venture ne hath not but o maumet or two, and 
 the avaricious man hath many: for certes, every 
 florein in his coffre is his maumet. And certes, 
 the sinne of maumetrie is the first that God de-
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. 325 
 
 fended in the ten commandments, as bereth wit- 
 nesse, Exod. Cap. xx. Thou shalt have no 
 false goddes before me, ne thou shalt make to 
 thee no graven thing. Thus is an avaricious 
 man, that loveth his tresour before God, an ido- 
 lastre. And thurgh this cursed sinne of avarice 
 and coveitise cometh thise hard lordships, thurgh 
 vphich men ben distreined by tallages, customes, 
 and cariages, more than hir dutee or reson is : and 
 eke take they of hir bondmen amercementes, 
 vehich might more resonably be called extortions 
 than amercementes. Of which amercementes, 
 or raunsoming of bondmen, som lordes stevv- 
 ardes say, that it is rightful, for as moche as a 
 cherl hath no temporel thing, that it ne is his 
 lordes, as they say. But certes, thise lord- 
 shippes don wrong, that bereven hir bondmen 
 thinges that they never yave hem. Augustimis 
 de Civitate Dei, Lihro ix. Soth is, that the con- 
 dition of thraldom, and the first cause of thraldom 
 was for sinne. Genesis v. 
 
 Thus may ye see, that the gilt deserved thral- 
 dom, but not nature. Wherfore thise lordes ne 
 shuld not to moche glorifie hem in hir lordshipes, 
 sith that they by naturel condition ben not lordes 
 of hir thralles, but that thraldom came first by the 
 deserte of sinne. And furtherover, ther as the 
 lawe sayth, that temporel goodes of bondfolk ben 
 the goodes of hir lord: ye, that is for to under- 
 stond, the goodes of the eraperour, to defend hem 
 in hir right, but not to robbe hem ne to reve hem. 
 Therfore sayth Seneca: The prudent shuld live 
 benignely with the thral. Tho that thou clepest 
 thy thralles, ben Goddes peple: for humble folk
 
 3'2G CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 ben Cristes frendes ; they ben contubernial with 
 the Lord thy king. 
 
 Thinke also, that of swiche seed as cherles 
 springen of swiche seed springen lordes: as wel 
 may the cherl be saved as the Lord. The same 
 deth that taketh the cherl, swiche deth taketh the 
 Lord. Wherfore I rede, do right so with thy 
 cherl as thou woldest that thy Lord did with 
 thee, if thou were in his plight. Every sinful 
 man is a cherl to sinne: I rede thee, thou Lord, 
 that thou reule thee in swiche wise, that thy 
 cherles rather love thee than drede thee. I wote 
 wel, that ther is degree above degree, as reson 
 is, and skill is, that men do hir devoir, ther as it 
 is due: but certes, extortion, and despit of your 
 underlinges, is dampnable. 
 
 And furthermore understond wel, that thise 
 conqueroures or tyrantes maken ful oft thralles 
 of hem, that ben borne of as royal blood as ben 
 they that hem conqueren. This name of Thral- 
 dom was never erst couthe, til that Noe sayd, 
 that his sone Cham shuld be thrall to his brethren 
 for his sinne. What say we than of hem that pille 
 and don extortions to holy Chirche? Certes, the 
 swerd that men yeven first to a knight whan he 
 is newe dubbed, signifieth, that he shuld defend 
 holy Chirche, and not robbe it ne pille it: and 
 who so doth is traitour to Crist. As saith Seint 
 Augustine, Tho ben the devils wolves, that 
 strangelen the shepe of Jesu Crist, and don 
 worse than wolves: for sothly, whan the wolf 
 hath full his wombe, he stinteth to strangle 
 shepe: but sothly, the pillours and destroiers of 
 holy Chirches goodes ne do not so, for they ne
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. 327 
 
 stint never to pille. Now as I have sayd, sith so 
 is, that sinne was first cause of thraklora, than is 
 it thus, that at the time that all this world was in 
 sinne, than was all this world in thraldom, and 
 in subjection : but certes, sith the time of grace 
 came, God ordeined, that som folk shuld be more 
 high in estate and in degree, and som folk more 
 lowe, and that everich shuld be served in his 
 estate and his degree. And therfore in som 
 contrees ther as they ben thralles, whan they 
 have tourned hem to the feith, they make hir 
 thralles free out of thraldom : and therfore certes 
 the Lord oweth to his man, that the man oweth 
 to the Lord. The Pope clepeth himself servant 
 of the servants of God. But for as moche as the 
 estate of holy Chirche ne might not have ben, ne 
 the commun profite might not have be kept, ne 
 pees ne rest in erthe, but if God had ordeined, 
 that som men have higher degree, and som men 
 lower; therfore was soveraintee ordeined to kepe, 
 and mainteine, and defend hire underlinges or 
 hire subjectes in reson, as ferforth as it lieth in 
 hire power, and not to destroy hem ne confound. 
 Wherfore I say, that thilke lordes that ben like 
 wolves, that devoure the possessions or the 
 catel of poure folk wrongfully, withouten mercy 
 or mesure, they shul receive by the same mesure 
 that they have raesured to poure folk the mercy 
 of Jesu Crist, but they it amende. Now cometh 
 deceit betwix marchant and marchant. And thou 
 shalt understond, that marchandise is in two 
 maners, that on is bodily, and that other is 
 gostly: that on is honest and leful, and that 
 other is dishonest and unleful. The bodily mar-
 
 328 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 chandise, that is leful and honest, is this: that 
 ther as God hath ordeined, that a regne or a 
 contree is suffisant to himself, than it is honest 
 and leful, that of the haboundaunce of this contree 
 men helpe another contree that is nedy : and 
 therfore ther must be marchants to bring fro on 
 contree to another hir marchandise. That other 
 marchandise, that men haunten with fraude, and 
 trecherie, and deceit, with lesinges and false 
 othes, is right cursed and dampnable. Spirituel 
 marchandise is properly simonie, that is, ententif 
 desire to buy thing spirituel, that is, thing which 
 apperteineth to the seintuarie of God, and to the 
 cure of the soule. This desire, if so be that a 
 man do his diligence to performe it, al be it that 
 his desire ne take non effect, yet it is to him a 
 dedly sinne : and if he be ordered, he is irreguler. 
 Certes simonie is cleped of Simon Magus, that 
 wold have bought for temporel catel the yefte 
 that God had yeven by the holy gost to Seint 
 Peter, and to the Apostles: and therfore under- 
 stond ye, that both he that selleth and he tliat 
 byeth thinges spirituel ben called Simoniackes, 
 be it by catel, be it by procuring, or by fleshly 
 praier of his frendes fleshly frendes, or spirituel 
 frendcs, fleshly in two maners, as by kinrede or 
 other frendes : sothly, if they pray for him that 
 is not worthy and able, it is simonie, if he take 
 the benefice; and if he be worthy and able, ther 
 is non. That other manor is, whan man, or 
 woman, prayeth for folk to avancen hem only 
 for wicked fleshly affection which they have 
 unto the persons, and that is foule simonie. But 
 certes, in service, for which men yeven thinges
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. 329 
 
 spiiituel unto hir servants, it must be under- 
 stonde, that the service must be honest, or elles 
 not, and also, that it be without bargaining, and 
 that the person be able. For (as sayth Seint 
 Daraascen) all the sinnes of the world, at regard 
 of this sinne, ben as thing of nought, for it is the 
 gretest sinne that may be after the sinne of Lu- 
 cifer and of Anticrist: for by this sinne God 
 forleseth the chirche and the soule, which he 
 bought with his precious blood, by hem that 
 yeven chirches to hem that ben not digne, for 
 they put in theves, that stelen the soules of Jesu 
 Crist, and destroyen his patrimonie. By swiche 
 undigne preestes and curates, han lewed men 
 lesse reverence of the sacramentes of holy 
 chirche : and swiche yevers of chirches put the 
 children of Crist out, and put into chirches the 
 divels owen sones: they sellen the soules that 
 lambes shuld kepe to the wolf, which strangleth 
 hem: and therfore shall they never have part of 
 the pasture of lambes, that is, in the blisse of 
 heven. Now cometh hasardrie with his aperte- 
 nauntes, as tables and rafles, of which cometh 
 deceit, false othes, chidings, and all raving, 
 blaspheming, and reneying of God, hate of his 
 neyghbours, wast of goodes, mispeuding of time, 
 and somtime manslaughter. Certes, hasard- 
 ours ne mow not be without grete sinne. Of 
 avarice comen eke iesinges, theft, false wit- 
 nesse, and false othes: and ye shul understonde, 
 that these be gret sinnes, and expresse ayenst 
 the comniandements of God, as I have sayd. 
 False witnesse is eke in word, and in dede: in 
 word, as for to bereve thy neighbours good name 
 
 VOL. II. F F
 
 330 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 by thy false witnesse, or bereve him his catel or 
 his heritage by thy false witnessing, whan thou 
 for ire, or for mede, or for envie, berest false 
 witnesse, or accusest him, or excusest thyself 
 falsely. Ware ye questmongers and notaries: 
 certes, for false witnessing, was Susanna in ful 
 gret sorwe and peine, and many another mo. 
 The sinne of theft is also expresse ayenstGoddes 
 hest, and that in two maners, temporel, and spi- 
 rituel: the temporel theft is, as for to take thy 
 neighbours catel ayenst his will, be it ,by force 
 or by sleight; be it in meting or mesure; by 
 steling; by false enditements upon him; and in 
 borowing of thy neighbours catel, in entent never 
 to pay it ayen, and semblable thinges. Spirituel 
 theft is sacrilege, that is to say, hurting of holy 
 thinges, or of thinges sacred to Crist, in two 
 maners ; by reson of the holy place, as chirches 
 or chirches hawes; (for every vilains sinne, that 
 men don in swiche places, may be called sacri- 
 lege, or every violence in semblable places) also 
 they that withdrawe falsely the rentes and rightes 
 that longen to holy chirche; and plainly and ge- 
 nerally, sacrilege is to reve holy thing fro holy 
 place, or unholy thing out of holy place, or holy 
 thing out of unholy place. 
 
 Remedium Avaritice. 
 
 Now shul ye understond, that releving of 
 avarice is misericorde and pitee largely taken. 
 And men might axe, w hy that misericorde and 
 pitee are releving of avarice; certes, the ava- 
 ricious man sheweth no pitee ne misericorde to 
 the nedeful man. For he deliteth him in the
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. 331 
 
 keping of his tresour, and not in the rescouing ne 
 releving of his even Ciisten. And therfore speke 
 I first of misericorde. Than is misericorde (as 
 sayth the Philosophre) a vertue, by v^hich the 
 corage of man is stirred by the misese of him 
 that is misesed. Upon which misericorde fo- 
 loweth pitee, in performing and fulfilHng of cha- 
 ritable werkes of mercie, helping and comforting 
 him that is misesed. And certes, this meveth a 
 man to misericorde of Jesu Crist, that he yave 
 himself for our offence, and siiffred deth for mi- 
 sericorde, and forj^af us our original sinnes, and 
 therby relesed us fro the peine of hell, and ame- 
 nused the peines of purgatojy by penitence, and 
 yeveth us grace wel to do, and at last the blisse 
 of heven. The spices of misericorde ben for to 
 lene, and eke for to yeve, and for to foryeve and 
 relese, and for to have pitee in herte, and com- 
 passion of the mischefe of his even Cristen, and 
 also to chastise ther as nede is. Another maner 
 of remedy ayenst avarice, is resonable largesse: 
 but sothly, here behoveth the consideration of 
 the grace of Jesu Crist, and of the tetnporel 
 goodes, and also of the goodes perdurable that 
 Jesu Crist yave to us, and to have remembrance 
 of the deth which he shal receive, he wote not 
 whan: and eke that he shal forgon all that he 
 hath, save only that which he hath dispended in 
 good werkes. 
 
 But for as moche as som folk ben unme- 
 surable, men oughten for to avoid and eschue 
 fool-largesse, the whiche men clepen waste. 
 Certes, he that is fool -large, he yeveth not his 
 catel, but he leseth his catel. Sothlv, what
 
 332 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 thing that he yeveth for vaine-glory, as to miii- 
 strals, and to folk that here his retiome in the 
 world, he hath do sinne therof, and non almesse : 
 certes, he leseth foule his good, that ne seketh 
 with the yefte of his good nothing but sinne. 
 He is like to an hors that seketh rather to drink 
 drovy or troubled water, than for to drink water 
 of the clere well. And for as moche as they 
 yeven ther as they shuld nat yeven, to hem ap-: 
 perteineth thilke malison, that Crist shal yeve at 
 the day of dome to hem that shul be dampned. 
 
 De Gula. 
 
 After avarice cometh glotonie, which is ex- 
 presse ayenst the commandement of God. Glo- 
 tonie is unmesurable appetit to ete or to drinke: 
 or elles to do in ought to the unmesurable ap- 
 petit and disordeined coveitise to ete or drinke. 
 This sinne corrupted all this world, as is wel 
 shewed in the sinne of Adam and of Eve. 
 Loke also what sayth Seint Poule of glotonie. 
 Many (sayth he) gon, of which I have ofte said 
 to you, and now I say it weping, that they ben 
 the enemies of the crosse of Crist, of which the 
 end is deth, and of which hir wombe is hir God 
 and hir glorie; in confusion of hem that so ser- 
 ven erthly thinges. He that is usant to this sinne 
 of glotonie, he ne may no sinne withstond, he 
 must be in servage of all vices, for it is the devils 
 horde, ther he hideth him and resteth. This 
 sinne hath many spices. The first is^ dronken- 
 nesse, that is the horrible sepulture of mannes 
 reson : and therfore whan a man is dronke, he 
 hath lost his reson: and this is dedly sinae.
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. 333 
 
 But sothiy, whan that a man is not wont to strong 
 drinkes, and peraventure ne knoweth not the 
 strength of the drinke, or hath feblcnesse in his 
 hed, or hath travailled, thurgh which he drinketh 
 the more, al be he sodenly caught with drinke, 
 it is no dedly sinne, but venial. The second 
 spice of glotonie is, that the spirit of a man 
 wexeth all trouble for dronkennesse, and be- 
 reveth a man the discretion of his wit. The 
 thridde spice of glotonie is, whan a man de- 
 voureth his mete, and hath not rightful maner of 
 eting. The fourthe is, whan thurgh the gret 
 abundance of his mete, the humours in his body 
 ben distempered. The fifthe is, foryetfuluesse 
 by to moche drinking, for which soratime a man 
 forgeteth by the morwe, what he did over eve. 
 
 In other maner ben distinct the spices of glo- 
 tonie, after Seint Gregorie. The first is, for to 
 ete before time. The second is, whan a man 
 geteth him to delicat mete or drinke. The thridde 
 is, whau men taken to moche over mesure. The 
 fourth is curiositee, with gret entent to makeu 
 and appareille his mete. The fifth is, for to ete 
 gredily. Thise ben the five fingers of the devils 
 bond, by which he draweth folk to the sinae. 
 
 Remedium Gula. 
 
 Ayenst glotonie the remedie is abstinence, as 
 sayth Galien : but that I holde not meritorie, if 
 he do it only for the hele of his body. Seint 
 Augustine wol that abstinence be don for ver- 
 tue, and with patience. Abstinence (sayth he) 
 is litel worth, but if a man have good will tlierto, 
 and but it be enforced by patience and charitee, 
 
 F F 2
 
 334 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 and that men don it for Goddes sake, and in 
 hope to have the bhsse in heven. 
 
 The felawes of abstinence ben atteniperance, 
 that holdeth the mene in alle thinges; also 
 shame, that esclieweth all dishonestee; suffi- 
 sance, that seketh no riche metes ne drinkes, ne 
 doth no force of non outrageous appareilling of 
 mete; mesure also, that restreineth by reson the 
 unmesurable appetit of eting: sobernesse also, 
 that restreineth the outrage of drinke; sparing 
 also^ that restreineth the delicat ese, to sit long 
 at mete, wherfore som folk standen of hir owen 
 will whan they ete, because they wol ete at lesse 
 leiser, 
 
 De Lvxnrid. 
 
 After glotonie cometh lecherie, for thise two 
 sinnes ben so nigh cosins, that oft time they vvoi 
 not depart. God wote this sinne is ful dis- 
 plesant to God, for he said himself: Do no le- 
 cherie. And therfore he putteth gret peine 
 ayenst this sinne. For in the old lawe, if a 
 woman thrall were taken in this sinne, she shuld 
 be beten with staves to the deth : and if she were 
 a gentilwoman, she shuld be slain with stones . 
 and if she were a bishoppes doughter, she shuld 
 be brent by Goddes commandement. Moreover, 
 for the sinne of lecherie God dreint all the world, 
 and after that he brent five citees with thonder 
 and lightning, and sanke hem doun into hell. 
 
 Now let us speke than of the said stinking 
 sinne of lecherie, that men clepen avoutrie, that 
 is of wedded folk, that is to say, if that on of 
 hem be wedded, or elles both. Seint John savth.
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. 835 
 
 That avouterers shul ben in helle in a stacke 
 brenning of fire and of brimstone, in fire for hir 
 lecherie, in brimstone for the stenche of hir or- 
 dure. Certes the breking of this sacrament is 
 an horrible thing: it was made of God himself 
 in Paradis, and confermed by Jesu Crist, as 
 witnesseth Seint Mathew in the Gospel: a man 
 shal let fader and moder, and take him to his 
 wif, and they shal be two in on flesh. This sa- 
 crament betokeneth the knitting together of Crist 
 and holy chirche. And not only that God for- 
 bade avoutrie in dede, but also he commanded, 
 that thou shuldest not coveit thy neighboures 
 wif. In this heste (sayth Seint Augustine) is 
 forboden all maner coveitise to do lecherie. Lo, 
 what sayth Seint Mathew in the Gospel, That 
 who so seeth a woman, to coveitise of his lust, 
 he hath don lecherie with hire in his herte. 
 Here may ye see, that not only the dede of this 
 sinne is forboden, but eke the desire to don that 
 sinne. This cursed sinne annoyeth grevously 
 hem that it haunt: and first to the soule, for he 
 obligeth it to sinne and to peine of deth, which 
 is perdurable; and to the body annoyeth it 
 -grevously also, for it drieth him and wasteth, 
 and shent him, and of his blood he maketh sa- 
 crifice to the fend of helle: it wasteth eke his 
 catel and his substance. And certes, if it be a 
 foule thing a man to waste his catel on women, 
 yet is it a fouler thing, whan that for swiche or- 
 dure women dispenden upon men hir catel and 
 hir substance. This sinne, as sayth the Pro- 
 phet, bereveth man and woman hir good fame 
 and all hir honour, and it is ful plesant to the
 
 336 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 devil : for therby winaeth he the moste partie of 
 this wretched world. And right as a marchant 
 deliteth him most in that ehaftare which he hath 
 most avantage and profite of, right so deliteth 
 the fend in this ordure. 
 
 This is that other hond of the devil, with five 
 fingers, to cacche the peple to his vilanie. The 
 first fingre is the foole loking of the foole wo- 
 man and of the foole man, that sleth right as the 
 Basilicok sleth folk by venime of his sight: for 
 the coveitise of the eyen foloweth the coveitise 
 of the herte. The second fingre is the vilains 
 touching in wicked maner. And therfore sayth 
 Salomon, that who so toucheth and handleth a 
 woman, he fareth as the man that handleth the 
 scorpion, which stingeth and sodenly sleth thurgh 
 his enveniming; or as who so that toucheth 
 warme pitch it shendeth his fingers. The thridde 
 is foule wordes, whiche fareth like fire, which 
 right anon brenneth the herte. The fourth finger 
 is kissing: and trewely he were a gret foole that 
 wold kisse the raoathe of a brenning oven or of 
 a fourneis; and more fooles ben they that kissen 
 in vilainie, for that mouth is the mouth of helle; 
 and namely thise olde dotardes holours, which 
 wol kisse, and flicker, and besie hemself, though 
 they may nought do. Certes they ben like to 
 houndes : for an hound whan he cometh by the 
 roser, or by other busshes, though so be that he 
 may not pisse, yet wol he heve up his leg and 
 make a contenance to pisse. And for that 
 many man v/eneth that he may not sinne for no 
 likerousnesse that he doth with his wif, trewely 
 that opinion is false : God wote a man may slee
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. 337 
 
 himself with his owen knif, and make himself 
 dronken of his owen tonne. Certes be it wif, 
 be it childe, or any worklly thing, that he loveth 
 before God, it is his maumet, and he is an ido- 
 lastre. A man shuld love his wif by discretion, 
 patiently and attemprely, and than is she as 
 though it were his suster. The fifth fingre of the 
 divels bond, is the stinking dede of lecherie. 
 Trewely the five fingers of glotonie the fend 
 putteth in the wombe of a man: and with bis 
 five fingers of lecherie he gripeth him by the 
 reines, for to throwe him into the fourneis of 
 helle, ther as they shul have the fire and the 
 wormes that ever shul lasten, and weping and 
 wayling, and sharpe hunger and thurst, and gris- 
 linesse of divels, whiche shul all-to-trede heia 
 withouten respite and withouten ende. Of le- 
 cherie, as I sayd, sourden and springen divers 
 spices: as fornication, that is betwene man and 
 woman which ben not maried, and is dedly 
 sinne, and ayenst nature. All that is enemy 
 and destruction to nature, is ayenst nature. Par- 
 fay the reson of a man eke telleth him wel that 
 it is dedly sinne; for as moche as God forbad 
 lecherie. And Seint Poule yeveth hem the 
 regne, that n'is dewe to no wight but to hem that 
 don dedely sinne. Another sinne of lecherie is, 
 to bereven a maid of hire raaidenhed, for he that 
 so doth, certes he casteth a mayden out of the 
 highest degree that is in this present lif, and be- 
 reveth hire thilke precious fruit that the book 
 clepeth the hundreth fruit. I ne can say it non 
 otherwise in English, but in Latine it bight Cen- 
 tesimus fructus. Certes he that so doth, is the
 
 338 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 cause of many damages and vilanies, mo than 
 any man can reken: right as he somtime is 
 cause of all dammages that bestes do in the feld, 
 that breketh the hedge of the i closure, thurgh 
 which he destroyeth that may not be restored : 
 for certes no more may maidenhed be restored, 
 than an arme, that is smitten fro the body, may 
 returne ayen and wexe: she may have mercy, 
 this wote I wel, if that she have will to do peni- 
 tence, but never shal it be but that she is cor- 
 rupte. And all be it so that I have spoke som- 
 what of avoutrie, it is good to shewe the periles 
 that longen to avoutrie, for to eschewe that foule 
 sinne. Avoutrie, in Latine, is for to saye, ap- 
 proching of another mannes bedde, thurgh whiche 
 tho, that somtime were on fleshe, abandone hir 
 bodies to other persons. Of this sinne, as sayth 
 the wise man, folow many harmes : firste brek- 
 ing of feith; and certes feith is the key of Cris- 
 tendom, and whan that key is broken and lorne, 
 sothly Cristendom is lorne, and stont vaine and 
 without fruit. This sinne also is theft, for theft 
 generally is to reve a wight his thinges ayenst 
 his will. Certes, this is the foulest theft that 
 may be, whan that a woman steleth hire body 
 from hire husbond, and yeveth it to hire holour 
 to defoule it: and steleth hire soule fro Crist, 
 and yeveth it to the devil : this is a fouler thefte 
 than for to breke a chirche and stele away the 
 chalice, for thise avouterers breken the temple of 
 God spirituelly, and stelen the vessell of grace; 
 that is the body and the soule : for which Criste 
 shal destroy hem, as sayth Seint Poule. Sothly 
 of this theft douted gretly Joseph, whan that his
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. 330 
 
 Lordeswif prayed him of vilainie, whan he sayde : 
 Lo, my Lady, how my Lord hath take to me 
 under my warde all that he hath in this world, 
 ne nothing is out of my power, but only ye that 
 ben his wif : and how shuld I than do this wick- 
 ednesse, and sinne so horribly ayenst God, and 
 ayenst my Lord? God it forbede. Alas! all to 
 litel is swiche trouth now yfounde. The thridde 
 harme is the filth, thurgh which they breke the 
 commandement of God, and defoule the auter of 
 matrimonies, that is Crist. For cartes, in so 
 moche as the sacrament of mariage is so noble 
 and so digne, so moche is it the greter sinne for 
 to breke it: for God made mariage in Paradis in 
 the estate of innocencie, to multiplie mankinde to 
 the service of God, and therfore is the breking 
 therof the more grevous, of which breking come 
 false heires oft time, that wrongfully occupien 
 folkes heritages: and therfore wol Crist put 
 hem out of the regne of heven, that is heritage 
 to good folk. Of this breking cometh eke oft 
 time, that folk unware wedde or sinne with hir 
 owen kinrede: and namely thise harlottes, that 
 haunten bordelles of thise foule women, that may 
 be likened to a commune gong, wheras men 
 purge hir ordure. What say we also of putours, 
 that live by the horrible sinne of puterie, and 
 constreine women to yelde hem a certain rent of 
 hir bodily puterie, ye, somtirae his owen wif or 
 his childe, as don thise baudes? certes, thise ben 
 cursed sinnes. Understond also, that avoutrie 
 is set in the ten commandements betwene theft 
 and manslaughter, for it is the gretest theft that 
 may be, for it is theft of body and of soule, and
 
 340 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 it is like to homicide, for it kerveth atwo and 
 breketli atwo hem that first were made on fiesh. 
 And therfore by the old lawe of God they shuld 
 be slaine, but nathelesse, by the lawe of Jesu 
 Crist, that is the lawe of pitee, whan he sayd to 
 the woman that was found in avoutrie, and shuld 
 have be slain with stones, after the will of the 
 Jewes, as was hir lawe; Go, sayd Jesu Crist, 
 and have no more will to do sinne; sothly, the 
 vengeance of avoutrie is awarded to the peine of 
 helle, but if so be that it be discombered by pe- 
 nitence. Yet ben ther mo spices of this cursed 
 sinne, as whan that on of hem is religious, or 
 elles both, or of folk that ben entred into ordre, 
 as sub-deken, deken, or preest, or hospitalers: 
 and ever the hisiher that he is in ordre, the greter 
 is the sinne. The thinges that gretly agrege hir 
 sinne, is the breking of hir avow of chastitee, 
 whan they received the ordre: and moreover 
 soth is, that holy ordre is chefe of all the tresorie 
 of God, and is a special signe and marke of chas- 
 titee, to shew that they ben joined to chastitee, 
 v.hich is the moste precious lif that is : and thise 
 ordered folk ben specially titled to God, and of 
 tlie special meinie of God : for which, whan they 
 don dedly sinne, they ben the special traitours 
 of God and of his peple, for they live by the pe- 
 ple to praye for the peple, and whiles they ben 
 swiche traitours hir prayeres availe not to the 
 peple. Preestes ben as angels, as by the mys- 
 terie of hir dignitee: but forsoth Seint Poule 
 saith, That Sathanas transfourmeth him in an 
 angel of light. Sothly, the preest that haiinteth 
 dedly sinne, he may be likened to an angel of
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. 341 
 
 derkenesse, transfournied into an angel of light: 
 he semeth an angel of liglit, hut for soth he is an 
 angel of derkenesse. Swiche preestes be the 
 sones of Hely, as is shewed in the book of 
 Kinges, that they were the sones of Belial, that 
 is, the divel. Belial is to say, withouten juge, 
 and so faren they; hem thinketh that they be 
 free, and have no juge, no more than hath a free 
 boll, that taketh which cow that him liketh in 
 the toun. So faren they by women; for right as 
 on free boll is ynough for all a toun, right so is 
 a wicked preest corruption ynough for all a 
 parish, or for all a countree: thise preestes, as 
 sayth the book, ne cannot minister the mysterie 
 of preesthood to the peple, ne they knowe not 
 God, ne they hold hem not apaied, as saith the 
 book, of sodden flesh that was to hem otfred, 
 but they take by force the flesh that is raw. 
 Certes, right so thise shrewes ne hold hem not 
 apaied of rosted flesh and sodden, with which 
 the peple feden hem in gret reverence, but they 
 wol have raw flesh as folkes wives and hir 
 doughters : and certes, thise women that con- 
 senten to hir harlotrie, don gret wrong to Crist 
 and to holy Chirche, and to all Halowes, and to 
 all Soules, for they bereven all thise hem that 
 shuld worship Crist and holy Chirche, and pray 
 for Cristen soules: and therfore han swiche 
 preestes, and hir lemmans also that consenten 
 to hir lecherie, the malison of the court Cristen, 
 til they come to amendement. The thridde spice 
 of avoutrie is sonitirae betwix a man and his wif, 
 and that is, whan they take no regard in hir as- 
 sembling but only to hir fleshly delit, as saith 
 
 VOL. II. G G
 
 342 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 Seint Jerome, and ne recken of nothing but that 
 they ben assembled because they ben maried; 
 all is good ynough, as thinketh to hem. But in 
 swiche folk hath the divel power, as said the 
 angel Raphael to Tobie, for in hir assembling, 
 they putten Jesu Crist out of hir herte, and yeven 
 hemself to all ordure. The fourth spice is of 
 hem that assemble with hir kinrede, or with hem 
 that ben of on affinitee, or elles with hem with 
 which hir fathers or hir kinred have deled in the 
 sinne of lecherie : this sinne maketh hem like to 
 houndes, that taken no kepe of kinrede. And 
 certes, parentele is in two maners: eyther gostly 
 or fleshly: gostly, is for to delen with hir god- 
 sibbes : for right so as he that engendreth a 
 child, is his fleshly father, right so is his god- 
 father his father spirituel : for which a woman 
 may in no lesse sinne assemble with hire god- 
 sib, than with hir owen fleshly broder. The 
 fifthe gpice is that abhominable sinne, of which 
 abhominable sinne no man unneth ought to 
 speke ne write, natheles it is openly rehersed in 
 holy writ. This cursednesse don men and wo- 
 men in diverse entent and in diverse maner: but 
 though that holy writ speke of horrible sinne, 
 certes holy writ may not be defouled, no more 
 than the sonne that shineth on the myxene. Ano- 
 ther sinne apperteineth to lecherie, that cometh 
 in sleping, and this sinne cometh often to hem 
 that ben maidens, and eke to hem that ben cor- 
 rupt; and this sinne men call pollution, that 
 cometh of foure maners; somtime it cometh of 
 languishing of the body, for the humours ben to 
 ranke and haboundant in the body of man; sora-
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. 343 
 
 time of infiirnitee, for feblenesse of the vertue 
 retentif, as phisike maketh mention; somtirae of 
 suifet of mete and drinke; and somtime of vilains 
 thoughtes that ben enclosed in mannes minde 
 whan he goth to slepe, which may not be with- 
 outen sinne; for whiche men must kepe hem 
 wisely, or elles may they sinne ful grevously. 
 
 Remedium Luxnria. 
 
 Now Cometh the remedy ayenst lecherie, and 
 that is generally chastitee and continence, that 
 restreineth all disordinate mevings that comen 
 of fleshly talents: and ever the greter merite 
 shal he have that most restreineth the wicked 
 euchaufing or ardure of this sinne; and this is in 
 two maners : that is to say, chastitee, in mariage, 
 and chastitee in widewhood. Now shalt thou 
 understonde, that matrimony is leful assembling- 
 of man and woman, that receiven by vertue of 
 this sacrement the bonde, thurgh whiche they 
 may not be departed in all hir lif, that is to say, 
 while that they live bothe. This, as saith the 
 book, is a ful gret sacrement; God made it (as 
 I have said) in paradis, and wold himself be 
 borne in mariage: and for to halowe mariage he 
 was at a wedding, wheras he tonrned water into 
 wine, whiche was the first miracle that he wrought 
 in erthe before his disciples. The trewe eft'ect 
 of mariage clenseth fornication, and replenisheth 
 holy chirche of good lignage, for that is the ende 
 of mariage, and chaungeth dedly sinne into venial 
 sinne betwene hem that ben wedded, and maketh 
 the hertes all on of hem that ben ywedded, as 
 wel as the bodies. This is veray mariage that
 
 344 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 was established by God, er that sinne began, 
 whaa natural lawe was in his right point in pa- 
 radis; and it was ordeined, that o man shuld 
 have but o woman, and o woman but o man, as 
 sayth Seint Augustine, by many resons. 
 
 First, for raariage is figured betwix Crist and 
 holy chirche; and another is, for a man is hed 
 of the woman; (algate by ordinance it shuld be 
 so;) for if a woman had mo men than on, than 
 shuld she have mo hedes than on, and that were 
 an horrible thing before God; and also a woman 
 mighte not plese many folk at ones: and also 
 ther shuld never be pees ne rest among hem, for 
 everich of hem wold axe his owen right. And 
 furthermore, no man shuld knowe his owen en- 
 gendrure, ne who shuld have his heritage, and 
 the woman shuld be the lesse beloved for the 
 time that she were conjunct to many men. 
 
 Now Cometh how that a man shuld here him 
 with his wif, and namely in two thinges, that is 
 to say, in suflrance and in reverence, and this 
 shewed Crist whan he firste made woman, for 
 he ne made hire of the hed of Adam, for she 
 shuld not claime to gret lordshippe ; for ther as 
 the woman hath the maistrie, she maketh to 
 moche disarray: ther nede non ensamples of 
 this, the experience that we have day by day 
 ought ynough suffice. Also certes, God ne 
 made not woman of the foot of Adam, for she 
 shuld not be holden to lowe, for she cannot pa- 
 tiently suffer: but God made woman of the rib 
 of Adam, for woman shuld be felaw unto man. 
 Man shuld here him to his wif in feith, in trouth, 
 and in love; as sayth Seint Poule, that a man
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. 345 
 
 shuld love his wif, as Crist loved holy chirche, 
 that loved it so wel that he died for it: so shuld 
 a man for his wif, if it were nede. 
 
 Now how that a woman shuld be subget to 
 hire husbond, that telleth Seint Peter; first in 
 obedience. And, eke as sayth the decree, a 
 woman that is a wif, as long as she is a wif, she 
 hath non auctoritee to swere ne bere witnesse, 
 without leve of hire husbonde, that is hire lord; 
 algate he shuld be so by reson. She shuld also 
 serve him in all honestee, and ben attempre of 
 hire array. I wete wel that they shuld set hir 
 entent to plese hir husbonds, but not by quein- 
 tise of hir array. Seint Jerom sayth : wives that 
 ben appareilled in silke and precious purple, ne 
 mow not cloth hem in Jesu Crist. Seint Gre- 
 gorie sayth also: that no wight seketh precious 
 array, but only for vain glorie to be honoured the 
 more of the peple. It is a gret folie, a woman 
 to have a faire array outward, and hireself to be 
 foule inward. A wif shuld also be mesurable in 
 loking, in bering, and in laughing, and discrete 
 in all hire wordes and hire dedes, and above all 
 worldly thinges, she shulde love hire husbonde 
 with all hire herte, and to him be trewe of hire 
 body: so shuld every husbond eke be trewe to 
 his wif: for sith that all the body is the hus- 
 bondes, so shuld hire herte be also, or elles ther 
 is betwix hem two, as in that, no parfit mariage. 
 Than shul men understond, that for three thinges 
 a man and his wif fleshly may assemble. The 
 first is, for the entent of engendrure of children, 
 to the service of God, for certes that is the cause 
 final of matrimonie. Another cause is, to yelde 
 
 G G 2
 
 346 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 eche of hem to other the dettes of hir bodies: 
 for neytlier of hem hath power of his oweu 
 bodie. The thridde is, for to eschew lecherie 
 and vilanie. The fourth is for soth dedly siune. 
 As to the first, it is meritorie : the second also, 
 for, as sayth the decree, she hath merite of 
 chastitee, that yeldeth to hire husbond the dette 
 of hire body, ye though it be ayenst hire hking, 
 and the lust of hire herte. The thridde maner is 
 venial sinne; trewely, scarsely may any of thise 
 be without veiiial sinne, for the corruption and 
 for the delit therof. The fourth maner is for to 
 understood, if they assemble only for amourous 
 love, and for non of the foresaid causes, but for 
 to accomplish hir brenning delit, they recke not 
 how oft, sothly it is dedly sinne: and yet, with 
 sorwe, som folk wol peine hem more to do, than 
 to hir appetit sufficeth. 
 
 The second maner of chastitee is for to be a 
 clene widew, and eschue the embracing of a 
 man, and desire the embracing of Jesu Crist. 
 Thise ben tho that have ben wives, and have 
 forgon hir husbondes, and eke women that 
 have don lecherie, and ben releved by penance. 
 And certes, if that a wif coud kepe hire all 
 chast, by licence of hire husbond, so that she 
 yave no cause ne non occasion that he agilted, 
 it were to hire a gret merite. This maner of 
 women, that observen chastitee, must be clene in 
 herte as wel as in body, and in thought, and 
 mesurable in clothing and in contenance, absti- 
 nent in eting and drinking, in speking, and in 
 dede, and than is she the vessel or the boiste 
 of the blessed Magdeleine, that fulfiUeth holy
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. 347 
 
 chirche of good odour. The thridde maner of 
 chastitee is viiginitee, and it behoveth that she 
 be holy in herte, and clene of body, than is she 
 the spouse of Jesu Crist, and she is the hf of 
 angels: she is the preising of this world, and she 
 is as thise martirs in egalitee: she hath in hire, 
 that tonge may not telle, ne herte thinke. Vir- 
 ginitee bare our Lord Jesu Crist, and virgin was 
 himself. 
 
 Another remedie against lecherie is specially 
 to withdraw swiche thinges, as yeven occasion 
 to that vilanie: as ese, eting, and drinking: for 
 cartes, whan the pot boileth strongly, the best 
 remedie is to withdraw the tire. Sleping long in 
 gret quiet is also a gret nourice to lecherie. 
 
 Another remedie ayenst lecherie is, that a 
 man or a woman eschewe the compagnie of hem, 
 by which he douteth to be tempted : for all be it 
 so that the dede be withstonden, yet is ther gret 
 temptation. Sothly a white wall, although it 
 ne brenne not fully with sticking of a candle, yet 
 is the wall black of the leyte. Ful oft time T 
 rede, that no man trust in his owen perfection, 
 but he be stronger than Sampson, or holier than 
 David, or wiser than Salomon. 
 
 Now after that I have declared you as I can 
 of the seven dedly sinnes, and som of hir 
 braunches, and the remedies, sothly, if I coude, 
 I wold tell you the ten commandements, but so 
 high doctrine I lete to divines. Natheles, I 
 hope to God they ben touched in this tretise 
 everich of hem alle. 
 
 Now for as moche as the second part of pe- 
 nitence stont in confession of mouth; as I began
 
 348 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 in the first chapitre, I say Seint Augustine saith: 
 Sinne is every word and every dede, and all 
 that men coveiten ayenst the law of Jesu Crist; 
 and this is for to sinne, in herte, in mouth, and 
 in dede, by the five wittes, which ben sight, 
 hering, smelling, tasting or savouring, and feling. 
 Now is it good to understond the circumstances, 
 that agregen moche every sinne. Thou shalt 
 consider what thou art that dost the sinne, whe- 
 ther thou be male or female, yonge or olde, geatil 
 or thrall, free or servant, hole or sike, wedded or 
 single, ordered or unordered, wise or foole, clerk 
 or seculer; if she be of thy kinred, bodily or 
 gostly , or non ; if any of thy kinred have sinned 
 with hire or no, and many mo thinges. 
 
 Another circumstaunce is this, whether it be 
 don in fornication, or in advoutrie, or no, in 
 maner of homicide or non, a horrible gret sinne 
 or sraal, and how long thou hast continued in 
 sinne. The thridde circumstance is the place, 
 ther thou hast don sinne, whether in other 
 mennes houses, or in thin owen, in feld, in 
 chirche, or in chirchhawe, in chirche dedicate, 
 or non. For if the chirche be halovved, and 
 man or woman spille his kinde within that place, 
 by way of sinne or by wicked temptation, the 
 chirche were enterdited til it were reconciled by 
 the Bishop; and if it were a preest that did 
 swiche vilanie, the terme of all his lif he shuld 
 no more sing Masse: and if he did, he shuld do 
 dedly sinne, at every time that he so song 
 Masse. The fourth circumstance is, by whiche 
 mediatoars, as by messagers, or for enticement, 
 or for consentment, to bere compagnie with fe~
 
 THE PERSONES TALE, 349 
 
 lawship; for many a wretche, for to here felaw- 
 ship, wol go to the divel of helle. Wherfore, 
 they that eggen or consenten to the sinue, ben 
 partners of the sinne, and of the danipnation of 
 the sinner. The fifth circumstance is, how many 
 times that he hath sinned, if it be in his niinde, 
 and how oft he hath falleu. For he that oft falleth ■ 
 in sinne, he despiseth the mercy of God, and 
 encreseth his sinne, and is nnkind to Crist, and 
 he waxeth the more feble to withstand sinne, and 
 sinneth the more lightly, and the later ariseth, 
 and is more slow to shrive him, and namely to 
 him that hath ben his confessour. For which 
 that folk, whan they fall ayen to -hir old folies, 
 either they forleten hir old confessour ai utterly, 
 or elles they departen hir shrift in divers places : 
 but sothly swiche departed shrift deserveth no 
 mercie of God for hir sinnes. The sixte cir- 
 cumstance is, why that a man sinneth, as by 
 what temptation; and if himself procure thilke 
 temptation, or by exciting of other folk; or if he 
 sinne with a woman by force or by hire owen 
 assent; or if the woman maugre hire hed have 
 ben enforced or non, this shal she tell, and whe- 
 der it were for covetise or poverte, and if it 
 were by hire procuring or non, and swiche other 
 thinges. The seventh circumstance is, in what 
 maner he hath don his sinne, or how that she 
 hath suffered that folk have don to hire. And 
 the same shal the man tell plainly, with all the 
 circumstances, and wheder he hath sinned with 
 comraun bordel women or non, or don his sinne 
 in holy times or non, in fasting times or non, or 
 before his shrift, or after his later shrift, and
 
 350 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 hath peraventure broken therby his penance en- 
 joined, by whos helpe or whos conseil, by sor- 
 cerie or crafte, all must be told. All thise 
 thinges, after that they ben gret or smale, en- 
 greggen the conscience of man or woman. And 
 eke the preest that is thy juge, may the better 
 be avised of his jugement in yeving of penance, 
 and that shal be after thy contrition. For un- 
 derstond wel, that after the time that a man 
 hath defouled his baptisme by sinne, if he wol 
 come to salvation, ther is non other way but by pe- 
 nance, and shrifte, and satisfaction; and namely 
 by tho two, if ther be a confessour to whom he 
 may shrive him, and that he first be veray con- 
 trite and repentant, and the thridde if he have 
 lif to performe it. 
 
 Than shal a man loke and consider, that if he 
 wol make a trewe and a profitable confession, 
 ther must be fonre conditions. First it must be in 
 sorowful bitternesse of herte, as sayth the King 
 Ezechiel to God; I wol remember all the yeres 
 of my lif in the bitternesse of my herte. This 
 condition of bitternesse hath five signes; The 
 first is, that confession must be shamefast, not 
 for to coveren ne hide his sinne, but for he hath 
 agilted his God and defouled his soule. And 
 hereof sayth Seint Augustin: the herte travaileth 
 for shame of his sinne, and for he hath gret 
 shamfastnesse he is digne to have gret mercie of 
 God. Swiche was the confession of the Publi- 
 can, that wold not heve up his eyen to heven 
 for he had offended God of heven: for which 
 sharaefastnesse he had anon the mercy of God. 
 And therfore saith Seint Augustine : That swiche
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. 351 
 
 shamefast folk ben next foryevenes.se and mercy. 
 Another signe, is hurailitee in confession: of 
 wliiche sayth Seint Peter; Humbleth you under 
 the might of God: the hond of God is mighty in 
 confession, for therby God foryeveth thee thy 
 sinnes, for he alone hath the power. And this 
 hurailitee shai be in herte, and in signe out- 
 warde: for right as he hath humilitee to God in 
 his herte, right so shuld he humble his body 
 outward to the preest, that sitteth in Goddes 
 place. For which in no maner, sith that Crist 
 is soveraine, and the preest mene and mediatour 
 betwix Crist and the sinner, and the sinner is 
 last by way of reson, than shuld not the sinner 
 sitte as high as his confessour, but knele before 
 him or at his feet, but if maladie distrouble it ; 
 for he shal not take kepe who sitteth ther, but in 
 whos place he sitteth. A man that hath tres- 
 passed to a Lord, and cometh for to axe mercie 
 and maken his accorde, and setteth him doun 
 anon by the Lord, men wolde holde him out- 
 rageous, and not worthy so sone for to have re- 
 mission ne mercy. The thridde signe is, that the 
 shrift shuld be ful of teres, if men mowen wepe, 
 and if they mowe not wepe with hir bodily eyen, 
 than let hem wepe in hir herte. Swiche was the 
 confession of Seint Peter; for after that he had 
 forsake Jesu Crist, he went out and wept ful 
 bitterly. The fourth signe is, that he ne lete 
 not for shame to shrive him and shewe his con- 
 fession. Swiche was the confession of Magde- 
 leine, that ne spared, for no shame of hem that 
 weren at the feste, to go to our Lord Jesu Crist 
 and beknowe to him hire sinnes. The fifthe
 
 852 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 sigiie is, that a man or a woman be obeisant to 
 receive the penance that hem is enjoined. For 
 certes Jesu Crist for the gilt of man was obe- 
 dient to the deth. 
 
 The second condition of veray confession is, 
 that it be hastily don : for certes, if a man hadde 
 a dedly wound, ever. the lenger that he taried to 
 warishe himself, the more wold it corrupt and 
 haste him to his deth, and also the wound wold 
 be the werse for to hele. And right so fareth 
 sinne, that longe time is in a man unshewed. 
 Certes a man ought hastily to shewe his sinnes 
 for many causes; as for drede of deth, that 
 Cometh oft sodenly, and is in no certain what 
 time it shal be, ne in what place; and eke the 
 drenching of o sinne draweth in another: and 
 also the lenger that he tarieth, the ferther is he 
 fro Crist. And if he abide to his last day, 
 scarcely may he shrive him or remembre him of 
 his sinnes, or repent him for the grevous maladie 
 of his deth. And for as moche as he ne hath in 
 his lif herkened Jesu Crist, whan he hath spoken 
 unto him, he shal crie unto our Lord at his last 
 day, and scarcely wol he herken him. And 
 understonde that this condition rauste have foure 
 thinges. First that the shrift be purveyed afore, 
 and avised, for wicked hast doth not profite; 
 and that a man con shrive him of his sinnes, be 
 it of pride, or envie, and so forth, with the spices 
 and circumstances; and that he have compre- 
 hended in his minde the nombre and the gret- 
 nesse of his sinnes, and how longe he hath lien 
 in sinne; and eke that he be contrite for his 
 sinnes, and be in stedfast purpose (by the grace
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. JJSS 
 
 of God) never efte to fall into sinne ; and also 
 that he drede and countrewaite himself, that he 
 flee the occasions of sinne, to whiche he is in- 
 clined. Also thou shalt shrive thee of all thy 
 sinnes to o man, and not parcelmele to o man, 
 and parcelmele to another; that is to under- 
 stonde, in entent to depart thy confession for 
 shame or drede, for it is but strangling of thy 
 soule. For certes, Jesu Crist is entierly all 
 good, in him is not imperfection, and therfore 
 either he foryeveth all parfitly, or elles never a 
 dele. I say not that if thou be assigned to thy 
 penitencer for certain sinne, that thou art bounde 
 to shewe him all the remenant of thy sinnes, of 
 whiche thou hast ben shriven of thy curat, but if 
 it like thee of thyn humilitee; this is no departing 
 of shrift. Ne I say not, ther as I speke of di- 
 vision of confession, that if thou have licence to 
 shrive thee to a discrete and an honest preest, 
 and wher thee liketh, and by the licence of thy 
 curat, that thou ne mayest wel shrive thee to 
 him of all thy sinnes : but lete no blot be behind : 
 lete no sinne be untoldeas fer as thou hast re- 
 membrance. And whan thou shalt be shriven 
 of thy curat, tell him eke all the sinnes that thou 
 hast don sith thou were laste shriven. This is 
 no wicked entente of division of shrift. 
 
 Also the veray shrift axeth certain conditions. 
 First that thou shrive thee by thy free will, not 
 constreined, ne for shame of folk, ne for maladie, 
 or swiche other thinges: for it is reson, that he 
 that trespasseth by his free will, that by his free 
 will he confesse his trespas; and that non other 
 man telle his sinne but himself: ne he shal not 
 
 VOL. II. H H
 
 354 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 nay, ne deny his sinne, ne wrath him ayenst the 
 preest for amonesting him to lets his sinne. The 
 second condition is, that thy shrift be lawful, that 
 is to say, that thou that shrivest thee, and eke 
 the preest that hereth thy confession, be veraily 
 in the feith of holy chirche, and that a man ne be 
 not despeired of the mercie of Jesu Crist, as Cain 
 and Judas were. And eke a man muste accuse 
 himself of his owen trespas, and not another: but 
 he shal blame and w ite himselfe of his owen ma- 
 lice and of his sinne, and non other: but natheles, 
 if that another man be encheson or enticer of his 
 sinne, or the estate of the person be swiche by 
 which his sinne is agregged, or elles that he may 
 not plainly shrive him but he tell the person with 
 whiche he hath sinned, than may he tell, so that 
 his entent ne be not to backbite the person, but 
 only to declare his confession. 
 
 Thou ne shalt not also make no lesinges in thy 
 confession for humilitee, peraventure, to say that 
 thou hast committed and don swiche sinnes, of 
 which that thou ne were never gilty. For Seint 
 Augustine sayth; if that thou, because of thin 
 humilitee, makest a lesing on thyself, though 
 thou were not in sinne before, yet arte thou than 
 in sinne thurgh thy lesing. Thou must also shew 
 thy sinne by thy propre mouth, but thou be 
 dorabe, and not by no letter: for thou that hast 
 don the sinne, thou shalt have the shame of the 
 confession. Thou shalt not eke peint thy con- 
 fession, with faire and subtil wordes, to cover 
 the more thy sinne: for than begilest thou thy- 
 self, and not the preest: thou must tell it plainly, 
 be it never so foule ne so horrible. Thou shalt
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. 355 
 
 eke shrive thee to a preest that is discrete to 
 conseille thee: and eke thou shalt not shrive 
 thee for vaine glorie, ne for yjjocrisie, ne for no 
 cause, but only for the doute of Jesu Crist, and 
 the iiele of thy soule. Thou shalt not eke renne 
 to the preest al sodenly, to tell him lightly thy 
 sinne, as who telleth a jape or a tale, but avi- 
 sedly and with good devotion; and generally 
 shrive thee ofte: if thou ofte fall, ofte arise by 
 confession. And though thou shrive thee ofter 
 than ones of sinne which thou hast be shriven of, 
 it is more merite : and, as sayth Seint Augustine, 
 thou shalt have the more lightly relese and grace 
 of God, both of sinne and of peine. And certes 
 ones a yere at the lest way it is lawful to be 
 houseled, for sothely ones a yere all thinges in 
 the erthe renovelen. 
 
 Explicit sccunda pars Penitentioe: et sequitur 
 tertia pars. 
 
 Now have I told you of veray confession, 
 that is the seconde part of penitence: The 
 thridde part is satisfaction, and that stont most 
 generally in almesse dede and in bodily peine. 
 Now ben ther three raaner of almesse : contrition 
 of herte, wher a man oflVelh himself to God: 
 another is, to have pitee of the defaute of his 
 neighbour: and the thridde is, in yeving of good 
 conseil, gostly and bodily, wher as men have 
 nede, and namely in sustenance of mannes food. 
 And take kepe that a man hath nede of thise 
 thinges generally, he hath nede of food, of cloth- 
 ing, and of herberow, he hath nede of charitable 
 conseilling and visiting in prison and in raaladie.
 
 356 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 aad sepulture of his tied body. And if thou 
 maiest not visite the nedeiul in prison in thy 
 person, visite hem with thy message and thy 
 yeftes. Thise beu generally the almesses and 
 werkes of charitee, of hem that have temporel 
 richesses, or discretion in conseilling. Of thise 
 werkes shalt thou heren at the day of dome. 
 
 This alniesse shuldest thou do of thy propre 
 thinges, and hastily, and prively if thou mayest: 
 but natheles, if thou mayest not do it prively, 
 thou shalt not forbere to do almesse, though men 
 see it, so that it be not don for thanke of the 
 world, but only to have thanke of Jesu Crist. 
 For, as witnesseth Seint Mathewe, Cap. v. a 
 citee may not be hid that is sette on a moun- 
 taine, ne men light not a lanterne, to put it under 
 a bushell, but setten it upon a eandlesticke, to 
 lighten the men in the hous: right so shal your 
 light lighten before men, that they mowe see your 
 good werkes, and glorifie your Fader that is in 
 heven. 
 
 Now as for to speke of bodily peine, it stont 
 praiers, in waking, in fasting, and in vertuous 
 teching. Of orisons ye shul understond, that 
 orisons or prayers, is to say, a pitous will of 
 herte, that it setteth it in God, and expresseth it 
 by word outward, to remeve harmes, and to 
 have thinges spirituel and perdurable, and som- 
 time temporel thinges. Of which orisons, certes 
 in the orison of the Paternoster hath Jesu Crist 
 enclosed most thinges. Certes it is privileged 
 of three thinges in his dignitee, for whiche it is 
 more digne than any other prayer: for that Jesu 
 Crist himself made it: and it is short, for it shuld
 
 THE PERSONES TALE. 357 
 
 be coude the more lightly, and to hold it the 
 more esie in herte, and helpe himself the ofter 
 with this orison, and for a man shuld be the 
 lesse wery to say it, and for a man may not 
 excuse him to lerne it, it is so shorte and so 
 esie : and for it comprehendeth in himself all good 
 prayers. The exposition of this holy prayer, 
 that is so excellent and so digne, I betake to 
 the maisters of theologie, save thus moche wol 
 I say, that whan thou prayest, that (iod shuld 
 foryeve thee thy giltes as thou foryevest hem 
 that have agilted thee, be wel ware that thou be 
 not out of charitee. This holy orison amenuseth 
 eke venial siiine, and therfore it apperteineth spe- 
 cially to |>enitence. 
 
 This prayer must be trewely sayd, and in 
 perfect feith, and that men prayen to God ordi- 
 nately, discretely, and devoutly : and alway a 
 man shal put his will to be subgette to the will 
 of God. This orison must eke be sayd with 
 gret humblesse and ful pure, and honestly, and 
 not to the annoyance of any man or woman. It 
 must eke be continued with werkes of charitee. 
 It availeth eke ayenst the vices of the soule: for, 
 as sayth Seint Jerome, by fasting ben saved the 
 vices of the flesh, and by prayer the vices of the 
 soule. 
 
 After this thou shalt understonde, that bodily 
 peine stont in waking. For Jesu Crist sayth: 
 wake ye and pray ye, that ye ne enter into 
 wicked temptation. Ye shul understond also, 
 that fasting stont in three thinges : in forbering 
 of bodily mete and driiike, in forbering of Avorldly 
 jolitee, and in forbering of dedly sinne: this is 
 
 H H 2
 
 358 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 to say, that a man shall kepe him fro dedly siiine 
 ■with all his might. 
 
 And thou shalt undeistonde also, that God 
 ordeined fasting, and to fasting apperteineth 
 foure thinges. Laigenesse to poure folk: glad- 
 nesse of herte spiiituel: not to be angry ne an- 
 noied, ne grutch for he fasteth: and also reson- 
 able houre for to ete by raesure, that is to say, a 
 man shal not ete in untime, ne sit the longer at 
 the table, for he fasteth. 
 
 Than shalt thou understonde, that bodily peine 
 stont in discipline, or teching, by word, or by 
 writing, or by ensample. Also in wering of here 
 or of starain, or of habergeons on hir naked flesh 
 for Cristes sake; but ware thee wel that swiche 
 maner penances ne make not thin herte bitter or 
 angry, ne annoied of thyself; for better is to cast 
 away thin here than to cast away the swetenesse 
 of our Lord Jesu Crist. And therfore sayth Seint 
 Poule: clothe you, as they that ben chosen of 
 God in herte, of misericorde, debonairtee, suf- 
 france, and swiche maner of clothing, of whiche 
 Jesu Crist is more plesed than with the heres or 
 habergeons. 
 
 Than is discipline eke, in knocking of thy 
 brest, in scourging with yerdes, in kneling, in 
 tribulation, in suffring patiently wronges that 
 ben don to thee, and eke in patient suft'ring of 
 maladies, or lesing of worldly catel, or wif, or 
 child, or other frendes. 
 
 Than shalt thou understond, which thinges 
 distourben penance, and this is in foure maners; 
 that is drede, shame, hope, and wanhope, that is, 
 desperation. And for to speke first of drede, for
 
 THE PERSON ES TALE. 359 
 
 which he weneth that he may suftVe no penance, 
 ther ayenst is remedie for to thinke, that bodily 
 penance is but short and litel at regard of the 
 peine of helle, that is so cruel and so longe, that 
 it lasteth withouten ende. 
 
 Now ayenst the shame that a man hath to 
 shrive him, and namely thise Tpocrites, that 
 wold be holden so parfit, that they have no nede 
 to shrive hem, ayenst that shame shuld a man 
 thinke, that by way of reson, he that hath not 
 ben ashamed to do foule thinges, certes him 
 ought not be ashamed to do faire thinges, and 
 that is confessions. A man shuld also thinke, 
 that God seeth and knoweth al his thoughtes, 
 and al his werkes, and to him may nothing be 
 hid ne covered. Men shuld eke remembre hem 
 of the shame that is to come at the day of dome, 
 to hem that ben not penitent in this present lif : 
 for all the creatures in heven, and in erthe, and 
 in helle, shul see apertly all that they hiden in 
 this world. 
 
 Now for to speke of the hope of hem, that 
 ben so negligent and slowe to shrive hem: that 
 stondeth in two maners. That on is, that he 
 hopeth for to live long, and for to purchase 
 moche richesse for his delit, and than he wol 
 shrive him: and, as he sayeth, he may, as him 
 semeth, than timely ynough come to shrift: 
 another is, the surquedrie that he hath in Cristes 
 mercie. Ayenst the first vice, he shal thinke that 
 our lif is in no sikernesse, and eke that all the 
 richesse in this world ben in aventure, and passen 
 as a shadowe on a wall; and, as sayth Seint Cre- 
 gorie, that it a[)peiteineth to the gret rightwis-
 
 360 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 nesse of God, that never shal the peine stinte of 
 hem, that never wold withdrawe hem from siunc, 
 hir thankes, but ever continue in sinne: for thilke 
 perpetuel will to don sinne shall they have per- 
 petuel peine. 
 
 Wanhope is in two maners. The first wan- 
 hope is, in the mercie of God: that other is, that 
 they think that they ne might not long persever in 
 goodnesse. The first wanhope cometh of that, 
 he demeth that he hath sinned so gretly and so 
 oft, and so long lyen in sinne, that he shal not 
 be saved. Certes ayenst that cursed wanhope 
 shulde he thinke, that the passion of Jesu Crist 
 is more stronge for to unbinde, than sinne is 
 strong for to binde. Ayenst the second wan- 
 hope he shal thinke, that as often as he falleth, 
 he may arisen again by penitence: and though 
 he never so longe hath lyen in sinne, the mercie 
 of Crist is alway redy to receive him to mercie. 
 Ayenst that wanhope that he demeth he shuld 
 not longe persever in goodnesse, he shal think, 
 that the feblenesse of the devil may nothing do, 
 but if men wol suffre him: and eke he shal have 
 strength of the helpe of Jesu Crist, and of all his 
 chirche, and of the protection of angels, if him 
 list. 
 
 Than shul men understonde, what is the fruit 
 of penance; and after the wordes of Jesu Crist, 
 it is an endeles blisse of heven, ther joye hath 
 no contrariositee of wo ne grevance; ther all 
 harmes ben passed of this present lif ; ther as is 
 sikernesse from the peines of helle; ther as is the 
 blisful compagnie, that rejoycen hem ever mo 
 everich of others joye; ther as the body of man,
 
 THE PERSONES TALE, 3G1 
 
 that whilom was foule and derke, is more clere 
 than the sonne; ther as the body that whilom 
 was sike and freele, feble and mortal, is im- 
 mortal, and so strong- and so hole, that ther ne 
 may nothing- appeire it; ther as is neither hunger, 
 ne thurste, ne colde, but every soule replenished 
 with the sight of the parfit knowing of God. This 
 blisful regne mowe men purchase by poverte spi- 
 rituel, and the glorie by lowlinesse, the plentee 
 of joye by hunger and thurst, and the reste by 
 travaile, and the lif by deth and mortification of 
 sinne : to which life he us bring, that bought us 
 with his precious blood. Amen. 
 
 Now preye I to hem alle that herken this litel 
 tretise or reden it, that if ther be any thing in it 
 that liketh hem, that therof they thanken our 
 Lord Jesu Crist, of whom procedeth all witte 
 and all godenesse; and if ther be any thing that 
 displeseth hem, I preye hem also that they ar- 
 rette it to the defaute of myn unkonning, and 
 not to my wille, that wold fayn have seyde bet- 
 ter if I hadde had konning; for oure boke seyth, 
 all that is writen is writen for oure doctrine, and 
 that is myn entente. Wherfore I beseke you 
 mekely for the mercie of God that ye preye for 
 me, that Crist have mercie of me and foryeve me 
 my giltes, [and namely of myn translations and 
 enditinges of worldly vanitees, the v/hich 1 re- 
 voke in my Tletractions, as the boke of Troilus, 
 the boke also of Fame, the boke of the five and 
 twenty Ladies, the boke of the Duchesse, the 
 boke of Seint Valentines day of the Parlement 
 of briddes, the tales of Canterbury, thilke that
 
 362 CANTERBURY TALES. 
 
 sounen unto sinne, the boke of the Leon, and 
 many an other boke, if they were in my remem- 
 braunce, and many a song and many a lecherous 
 lay, Crist of his grete mercie foryeve me the 
 sinne. But of the translation of Boes of con- 
 solation, and other bokes of legendes of Seints, 
 and of Omelies, and moralite, and devotion, that 
 thanke I oure Lord Jesu Crist, and his blisful 
 mother, and alle the Seintes in heven, beseking 
 hem that they fro hensforth unto my lyves ende 
 sende me grace to bewaile my giltes, and to sto- 
 dien to the savation of ray soule,] and graunte 
 me grace of verray penance, confession and sa- 
 tisfaction to don in this present lif, thorgh the 
 benigne grace of him, that is king of kinges and 
 preste of alle prestes, that bought us with the 
 precious blode of his herte, so that I mote ben 
 on of hem atte the laste day of dome that shullen 
 be saved; qui ctim Deo patre et Spiritu sancto 
 vivis et regnas Devs per omnia seciila. Amen. 
 
 END OF VOL. II. 
 
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