E
IE
K IN G S
’
CLAS S ICS
U NDER
GE NE R AL E D ITO R S H IP
D F E S S OR
GOLLAN CZ
OF
THE
P R IO R E SS S
OTHER
’
TA LE S
AND
FOU R
T H E P R I O R ES S S T A L E
A N D O T H ER T A L ES B Y
G EO F FR EY
C H A U C ER
D O N E I N T O MO D E R N
EN G L I S H B Y P R O F S K E A T
’
,
.
A LE X AN D E R MO R I N G L T D T H E D E
LA MO R E P R E SS 3 2 GE OR GE ST R E E T
H AN O VE R S ! U A R E L ON D O N W 1 9 0 4
.
W HE R E HE SHE W E T H M OR E
N ER R TALES
T HE N T
O F H I S L EA SAN T W T T HEN I N N O T HE R O F
HI S W
O M AR I S ON S A ND A LL O THER
; H I S S I M IL IT D ES
”
N NO T
D ES R I T I ON S A R E S H
A ME ND E D
TH E CA T
A
B U
Y
U RA LL
U
OR K ES
C
I
P
UC
P
,
C
A s CA
A
P
Y
,
BE
.
P uttenlz am
,
F AT HE R O F E N GL I SH O ET R o I H OLD HIM
I N THE SA ME D E GR EE O F VE N E RAT I ON s T HE G R ECIAN S HELD
H O ME R OR T HE R O MAN S V I R GI L ; HE I S A P E R E T AL F O U N TA IN
O F GOOD SE N SE
As
H E I s TH E
P
Y, s
A
P
,
U
.
H RON I L ES O F LA ST N G FAME
S HALL E VE R M OR E EXT OLL T HE NAME
O
T
NT G R SS
M M O ST
“ TH E C
F
PA
I
C
YE
I
ELL ,
Y
P ATYEN I
’ ‘
WI FF E
.
P a tien t Grim e/1
U B RARY
.
P R E F A CE
MOD ER N
versions o f four of Chauc er Ca t
by the present writer have already
b y Tal
appeared These four are T/ n b t Tal Tb
Ma f L aw Tal Ti N
P i t
Tal and
Tal
The present collection co ntains the
Tb S q i
five best that remain excluding such as are of insuffi
cient interest or otherwise unsuitable
—
Tb P i m
Tal is
ss
l
T h e P rio re
s Ta e
1
preceded by that of 7 75 S / pma o f which the Host
who
accompan
i
es
the
pilgrims
as
the
i
r
gu
i
de
and
con
(
ductor ) i pleased to approve H then turns to the
P rioress ( at l 1 6 3 5 of the second Group of Tales
)
ur
’
IS ED
s
es ,
,
e
’
s
ye
.
n
n er
’
o
’
u re s
un s
r
e
e,
s
’
r es
e,
’
e
e,
s
e.
,
.
,
’
’
e
.
e
r
r ore
'
n,
n
3
s
e
.
.
1
B
the
in
,
qf t/z e M an of L a w
’
The S hif man s P rolo
’
P rioress s P rolog ue , 1
G rO U p
text ed i t i o beg i s w i th
m
w
i
th
i
troductory
atter
1
1
(
)
2 d T l
ll
63
6 4;
S ix -
n,
n
n
ue
.
1
1 n
,
a e
,
6 2 5 - 1 6 42
1 X
.
.
1 1
—1
2
.
n
Tale
I — I I 6z
;
an d Tile
_
a
w i th that word he sa i d
A s courteously as he had bee
a m aid
w by y our leave
My lad y P i
l
I f I were sure that I should y u
t gr i eve
I would deter m i e that recou t ye should
A tale to follow i f so were ye would
N ow w i ll y so vouchsafe m y lady dear !
G ladly
quoth she a d sa i d as ye shall hear
“ an d
,
n
‘
no
r o re s s
,
,
,
no
o
n
n
,
.
’
e
,
’
‘
,
‘
,
,
n
.
But it is tolerably certain that this Tale was one
which Chaucer already had in hand before the plan
of Tb Ca t b y Tal had occurred to him And
further that the o -called P lgu i really an adapta
tion o f an older P roem that belonged to the original
“ song ” as it i expressly called in l 1 6
In
its
77
present form the P roem consists of five stanzas O f
these the two former were e i ther newly added or
were adapted from something older by the inserti on of
”
“
the words quoth she i n l 1 6 4 4 and by some
adaptation o f l 1 6 5 3 But the remaining three
stanzas doubtless rema i n untouched and form an
appropr i ate invocation to the Virgin Mary
The Tale itself is taken from a source similar to
that of the L g d of Alpb u f Li l a story
reprinted by the Chaucer Society from the F talti m
m 1 5 00
In another edition printed
F i ld L uga
in 1 4 8 5 the L g d f Alpb m i said to have been
composed in 1 4 5 9 and it is stated to be the work of a
n er ur
e
es
s
,
.
ro o
s
e
s
,
.
.
,
.
,
,
.
,
.
.
,
.
o ns
e en
r o
nc o n ,
'
or
e
'
un u
,
,
.
,
e en
,
o
,
o
us
s
z
u
Minorite Friar whose name was ( perhaps ) Alphonsus
a Spina The story i very like Chaucer s but it is
clear that Chaucer s actual source was f ea rlier date
We find most o f the incidents of Chaucer s story in
a poem by Gautier d Coincy ( born I 1 77 died
written in French verse It is called The story o f a
young scholar who wa k i lled by Jews fo r singing
a hymn to the Virgin so named ;
Ga d Ma ia i
and this poem i one of several that are entitled c o ll c
t i l Mim /
d
N
t
am
A
copy
D
o f this poem
y
as extant in MS Harl 4 40 1 was printed by the
Chaucer Society i n 1 8 76 But Chaucer has altered
the ending ; for Coincy brings the martyred boy
wholly to life aga i n wh i ch gives an inartistic ending
Chaucer escapes from this by saying that the Virgin
lai d a grain upon the boy s tongue and that he only
lived till it was taken away I showed in a letter to
Tb A ad my No 1 1 6 5 Sept 1 1 8 9 4 that Chaucer
may easily have obtained a hint for this change from
of the poems i n the very same collecti on
tb
a
“
This is one concerning a Clerk who was devoted
to the Holy Virgin in whose mouth when dead a
”
flower was found
The e ffect of this flower wa to
preserve hi tongue from corruption The Clerk had
been a s i nner i n his lifetime but had never omitted to
,
’
s
.
,
’
o
.
’
e
,
.
!
s
u e,
r
,
.
e.
s
ve
e er
e
e
o re
.
e.
,
,
.
.
.
,
’
,
.
e
no
c
e
.
,
,
.
,
,
,
er
.
,
,
,
s
.
s
.
,
xi
pray to the V i rgin ; and consequently when he had
b een murdered by enemies and buried fo r his sins in
unconsecrated ground the Virg in appeared to a holy
clerk commanding that the corpse should be taken up
and r -buried w i th honour When this was done a
fresh and fragrant rose was found in it mouth and the
tongue was uncorrupted In Tb A ad my for Sept
1
1
I
gave
a
verse
translation
of
this
poem
8
4
9
5
from which I excerpt the following extracts
,
,
,
,
,
,
e
,
.
s
,
e
c
c
.
,
.
,
,
The sp i ce of good that l i gered last
Wa th i s
accou t he passed
H owever
i tr i gue i te t
H owever m uch
pleasure be t
Before the V i rg i s i m age dear
But dow he k elt a d dropped a tear
T he
h i s k ees w i th ru ful face
H ever m ore i m plored her grace
A d p i ously would s m i te h i s breast
n
s
: on
on
no
n
n
n
n ,
n
on
n
n
n
’
,
n
on
n
n
e
,
.
,
e
,
n
.
c
a
:
a
the s i er s m t h the y fou d
ower as fragra t a d as fa i r
s i t had ewly blosso m ed there ;
all beheld w i th wo der i g dread
The s i er s to gue as fresh d red
A s i s the
w-blow rose i May
A s whole a d u corrupt i t lay
A s i f i ts ow er were al i ve
E ach gazer seem s to see i t str i ve
T o m ove as though i t fa i would pray
A d st i ll so m e words of pra i se would say
”
To Chr i st d to H i Mother d ar
x ii
L 0 ! in
A fl
A
A nd
’
nn
n
,
n
on
n
n
’
nn
n
n
,
an
n
ne
n
n
,
n
.
n
n
.
n
,
,
n
an
s
e
.
The French version
L a L ang ue
Clou
aifl
’
ci
this poem is printed in
of
! a L itt erature
F rancaic es , Tex tes
A
by K Bartsch and
;
.
Horn i ng
.
,
ci
P aris ,
887
1
.
With Chaucer the above flower became a grain
which may easily have been suggested by the old story
of the three grains that were placed by Seth under
Adam s tongue ; see the Cu
Ma di p 8 7 And
just as one of Co inc y tales enabled Chaucer to
begin his tale so another of them helped him to
end it
A similar story is that of The P ar i s Beggar -boy
murdered by a Jew which exists ( in English ) in the
Vernon M8 at Oxford This was likewise printed
by the Chaucer Society in 1 8 76 In this version the
anthem sung by the child i more fully indicated and
i clea rly identified with that mentioned in the Note to
l 1 70 8 Moreover it is here a lily that is found in
the child s mouth and his song ceases when it is taken
away
L ydgate in his L g d f D a J
e M
(
has a somewhat sim ilar
P m ed Halliwell p
story of a monk who was continually sing ing five
psalms in honour f the Virgin ; and after his dea th
not only was a fresh rose found in his mouth but
,
,
’
rs or
’
n
,
.
.
s
,
.
,
,
.
.
.
s
,
s
,
.
.
’
,
.
e en
,
oe
r,
.
,
o
n
oo r
se
nor
.
o
,
x iii
,
there were four more such roses two springing from
his eyes and two fro m his ears ! S o that C in y
miracle is here multiplied by five
There is a Ballad in P ercy s R l qu of A i t
to the
P t y ( i 3 2 ) entitled The Jew s D aughter
e ffect that a boy named Hugh was enticed to play and
then stabbed by a Jew s daughter who threw him into
a draw -well His mother L ady H elen finds him by
hear ing his voice
The story o f Hugh o f L incoln ( Note to l I 8 74 )
is given by Matthew o f P aris and may also be found
in the English version o f Ma
C t m a dD
d i g tb Middl Ag
originally written in French
by P aul L acroix pp 4 3 4 4 5 5
A similar tory f William of Norwich is referred
to in the A gl -S a Cla i l under the date I 1 3 7
S ee the Note in the edition by Earle and P lummer
As to the cruel treatment o f the Jews in England
the Note on The Jews in England in A al f E gla d
p 1 62
A modernised edition of this Tale will be found
among Wordsworth 3 P oems ; but my own version
was made independently of this
In a subsequent
comparison of the two I was somewhat s urprised to
find that the poet h a deviated from Chaucer s system
,
o
,
c
’
s
.
’
'
e z
nc en
es
’
oe r
.
’
,
,
.
,
.
see
n ners ,
ur n
e
—
.
n
,
o
us o
s,
res s ,
n
es ,
e
s
.
.
o
,
x on
ron c e,
.
.
,
nn
.
n
s o
.
’
.
,
’
s
x iv
se e
n
,
statement that there was a company of riotous people
in Flanders
The story i really of extreme antiquity and origin
ally o f Eastern origin Numerous analogous stor i es
have been collected and printed for the Chaucer
Society by Mr W A Clouston At pp 4 1 7— 4 3 6
o f these O i i al a d A al
is
printed
a
Buddhist
g
g
original t ogether with varying versions in several
languages viz P ersian Arabic Kashmir i and
Tibetan Vers i ons also occur in French I tal i an
German and P ortuguese
The Buddhist story i entitled V dab b ha Ji t ak a
being the 4 8 th story in F ausb iill s edition o f the Pali
text of the J ataka -book Two di fferent forms of the
Italian version as appear i ng in different editions of the
C t N a l/ A ti i
have been printed by D r
Furn i vall in his O igi al a d A alg
haucer
C
(
P t ii pp 1 3 1 — 1 3 3
Of these the former i s
from the edition of 1 5 2 5 where it appears as Novella
the other is from the edition of 1 5 72 where it i
83
Novella 8 2 The latter i much more like Chaucer s
story than the former and may have been his
authority Or he may have met with it in an old
French Fabliau
.
s
,
.
.
.
n
r
.
n
s
.
.
n
o
ues
,
.
,
,
,
,
,
.
,
.
,
e
s
,
’
.
,
en o
n
e
ve
c se ,
r
,
.
.
.
n
s
.
.
n
n
o
ues
,
,
,
s
.
,
.
.
xv i
s
’
This is the first Tale of
Group E in the Six -text edition 1 1 1 1 2 1 2 ; the
only other Tale in this Group being Tb M ha t
P rologue and Epilogue ll 1 2 1 3 2 4 40
Tal w i th
There is nothing to link this Group with anything
that precedes i t i n the MS S
The P rologue ( ll 1
in the usual rhyming
couplets is evidently of later date than the Tale and
was supplied at the time of rev i s i on It refers not
only to the death o f P etrarch in July 1 3 74 but to
that of L i nian i Giovanni di L ignano who died
in 1 3 8 3 ; o that it could not have been written till
after the latter date
The Tale itself ( 1 1 5 7 1 1 6 2 ) is a rather close
translat i on from P etrarch s L atin version of a tale
originally wr i tten i n Italian by Boccaccio It i the
last tale i n Boccaccio s D am
written shortly
after 1 3 4 8 From what source Boccaccio der i ved it
is unknown
It is qu i te certai n that Chaucer did not follow
Boccacc i o s vers i on wh i ch he probably never saw
but had b efore him P etrarch s L atin vers i on entitled
D
b di tia t f d ux ia Mtl lgia of which he
must have obtained a copy There is no reason to
doubt Ch auc e r s o wn distinct statement ( in l 2 7)
Th e Cl e rk
s
’
l
—
Ta e
.
—
.
,
3
e,
—
.
,
n
erc
e
’
s
.
.
,
.
,
,
.
,
,
.
e.
,
s
.
—
.
’
s
.
’
ec
ero ne,
.
.
’
,
,
’
,
e
o e
en
e
c
so o
or
,
.
’
.
xv ii
6
that
first heard the tale from P etrarch himse lf at
And that Chaucer had
P adua ; probably in 1 3 73
a copy before him to translate from is obvious through
out ; thus in l 1 1 4 7 he says that P etrarch w it tl
”
This story wh i ch with high style he e ndit th
We
may fairly conclude that Chaucer and P etrarch met
at P adua early in 1 3 73 when the latter told Chaucer
the story by word of mouth ( I
and that
Chaucer shortly after obtained a Copy o f P etrarch s
translation which he kept constantly before him
whilst making hi own version It is probable that
Tb Cl k Tal wa first written in 1 3 73 or 1 3 74 ;
and it required but little revis i on to make i t suitable
for a Canterbury Tale He accordingly prefixed the
P rologue ( ll 1
and added i n the livel i est manner
of his latest style lines 1 1 6 3 1 2 1 2 referr i ng to
the pilgrims in general in l 1 1 6 3 and to the W i fe of
Bath in particular in l 1 1 70 He also suppl i ed at
the same time 1 1 9 9 5 1 00 8
The story of Griselda as told by Boccacc i o i n the
together with P etrarch s L atin version
D am
of it and the letter of P etrarch to Boccacc i o concern
1
he
.
e
r
.
e
,
s
.
,
.
’
,
s
c
er
’
s
.
s
e
.
.
,
—
,
.
,
.
.
,
,
.
—
.
,
’
erone,
ec
,
The obj ect i o that i t was the Cl k t Chaucer who m t
m o ey
P e t rarch i s a m ere qu i bble
T h p oor Cler k had
to pay for so lo g a j our ey ; i t was Chau c r h i m s lf wh o
was t t o I t aly bus i ess
xv iii
1
n
er
,
se n
on
n
no
e
n
.
e
,
e
.
n
, no
e
n
ing it are all reprinted in the
Originals
,
f
o
s ome
and
Analog ues
C
b
aucer s Canterb ur
T
ales, P art ii
Chaucer
y
of
(
1 87
W
ere
any
ad
it
i
onal
proof
nee
d
e
t
h
at
d
d
5
’
.
.
Chaucer had the L atin version before h i m i t i s up
plied b y the fact that numerous quotations from that
vers on are actually wr i tten i n the margins of the
Ellesmere and H ngwrt MS S Of the Tales each in
it proper place
The story of Griselda was well known and very
popular in later times ; and there are several known
”
“
ballads concerning P atient Gris ll
—
This is the first
u
T
al e
T h e S e co n d N n s
Tale in Group G of the S i x -text ed it i on of the Tales
There is nothing to link i t on to anyth ing that
precedes There i not even any statement to show
who the Second Nun was ; but a in the general
P rologue there i s a descr i ption of the P rioress fol
”
lowed by a mention of another Nun we must con
e lude that th i s is the personage i ntended
T he Tale is one wh i ch Chaucer had already Co m
posed i n earl i er days a he himsel f tells us ; for he
alludes to i t by the title of Tb Lif of S ai t C yl
in his P rologue to the L g d of G d W m
It
was orig i nally intended as a L egend to b e read not a
story to be rec i ted ; s i nce he uses the express i on
s
,
i
e
s
.
,
.
se
.
’
.
s
.
s,
,
,
,
.
,
s
e
,
e en
e
oo
n
o
ec
en.
,
xix
e,
Yet pray I you that read - n what I write ( 1
“
In 1 6 2 he had described himself a an unworthy
son of Eve and had the mis fortune to leave this
”
“
expression uncorrected in his revision ; for o n is
”
an inappropriate epithet for the Second Nun
If
anything was done to it at the time of revision it
was the insertion ( mainly from D ante ) f the three
stanzas i n ll 3 6 5 6
It is certain that this L if f S t C ilia a its
author once called it is little more than a translation
from two L atin sources The former is the L if f
S t C ilia as given i n the L g da A
or
Golden
a
(
L egend ) of J ac o b u Janue nsi or Jacobus a Voragine
who was Archbishop of Genoa at the close of the
thirteenth century
Chaucer follows this version
closely from 1 8 5 down to l 3 4 8 or thereabouts In
the latter part of the legend his translation agrees
rather w i th another L atin life of the saint as g i ven
in a work entitled D Viti S a t um ab A lo y io
L ipo mano episcopo V ro na a F L Surio emenda
p 1 61
t is e t auc t is Ve ne tiis 1 5 8 1
Chaucer also took a few p articulars from the L i
t
l
V
i
d
u ti
A
a
s
given
in
the
a
a
a
T
i
b
a
f
S a t um ( April
The first four stanzas ( ll 1 2 8 ) are partly imitated
e
.
s
.
,
s
.
,
o
.
.
e
o
ec
.
s
,
,
e o
.
.
e en
ec
s
ure
s,
,
.
.
,
.
.
,
,
e
e
,
,
nc or
s
e,
s
.
.
.
,
,
.
ves
o
er
n
n
r
us ,
c
nc or
.
XX
—
from a French version of Tb G ld L g d by
Jehan de Vignay printed at P aris in 1 5 1 3 and re
printed in the O igi al a d A algu published by
the Chaucer S ociety P t i i p 1 9 0 I n the L egend
itself Chaucer does not follow this French version
but only the L atin legends above menti oned
S ain t C e c il ia There are lives o f St Cecilia
in English much older than Chaucer s The earliest
of these is in Anglo -Saxon and is printed at p 1 4 9
o f Tb
a publication by the Rev T O
Sb i
Cockayne There i another Anglo -Saxon version
in fElf ic L i
S
ed
Skeat
6
i
b
ai t
35
f
Both of these are g i ven under the date Nov 2 2
which is Saint Cecilia s day I subjoin a modern
English rendering of the last eighteen lines of the
latter A S version for comparison with the last five
stanzas ( ll 5 1 9
c
e en
en
o
,
n
r
,
n
n
s
.
.
.
.
es ,
o
,
,
.
-
.
,
’
.
,
c
.
r ne ,
.
s
.
r
.
.
’
s
v es
o
n s,
e
,
.
11
.
.
.
,
’
.
.
.
,
.
lay i t h bath over a bur i g fire
the whole day a d i ght w i th u i j ured body
as i f i cold water a d she d i d t eve sweat
T he they told A lm h iu how the m a i de co t ued
i the hot bath w i th sou d body
a d eve
w i thout sw at The se t h a exec u t i o er
to her
a d co mm a ded h im to behead her i
the hot water
S
the execu t i o er struc k her w i th h i s sword
xxi
S he
n
n n
e
n
n
n n
n
,
n
n
s
n
,
n
e
n
no
ac
n
n
n
.
n in
,
n
n
e
n
n
,
n
o
n
n
n
.
aga i a d a th i rd t i m e but her ec k was
t cut through ;
he left her ly i g half al i ve
a d a o
because the se ate had decreed that
execu t i o er
should
str ik four t i m s whe he slew a cr i m i al
The h l i ved three days a d i s t ructed the fa i thful
a d co m m i tted her ha d -m a i de s to the i llus t r i ou s
pope
a d her house was co secrated as a holy church
where by God s help m i racles were ofte wrought
the pope bur i ed her ho ourably
A d U rba
to the glory of the A l m i ghty who r i g s i et r i ty
o ce
an d
n
n
n
n
,
no
n
n
n
n
,
no
n
e
e
n s
n
n
,
e
,
n
.
n
n
n
n
(
,
n
,
n
n
,
’
,
n
,
n
n
n
.
,
e
n
n
e n
.
The story duly appears in Caxto n English ver
sion of Tl G ld L g d
An interesting account of the statue and church
of St Cecilia w i ll be found in Mr Jameson s well
known work on S a d a d L g da y A t
The connexion o f St Cecilia with the art of
music is of comparatively late date ; he is never
accompanied by mus i cal attr i butes in any early r
presentation
—
N such personage
Th e Can o n s Y e o m an
is noticed in the general P rologue to the Tales
But
Chaucer se i zed upon the idea whilst writing his
Tales of saying something by way of exposing the
practice of alchemy by cheating adepts who preyed
upon such as be came their dupes The way in which
’
s
se
o
en
e en
.
’
s.
.
cre
e en
n
r
r
.
.
s
e
.
’
o
.
.
,
,
,
.
xx ii
described just above No original authority
it i known ; and we gather that Chaucer is
f
unsparingly revealing some tricks that had been but
recently practised in L ondon in which he expressly
lays the scene
It is clear that the poet had done
his best to learn some of the secrets of the art as
he displays great familiarity with the names of the
L l 72 0 9 7 1
ubstances and processes employed
of Group G ( not here reproduced ) are fully occupied
with these ; after which follows the Tale itsel f ( ll
concluded by advice to his hearers to let
9 71
“ the philosopher
stone alone
The Tale relates how a certain Canon ( not the
Yeoman s master but a still greater adept ) beguiled
a priest into paying him a large um fo r a valueless
receipt This he did by exhibiting three tricks of
mere sleight of hand which are carefully described
No further explanation is needed
—
l
The five Tales i n this volume
T h e F iv e Ta e s
are taken as explained above from various Groups
of the Tales as they are arranged in the Six -text
edition Thus the P i
Tal is from Group B ;
the P a d
from Group C ; the Cl é from
Group E and the S d N u and Ca
T ma
from Group G In each case the lines are num
t riv an ce
.
s
or
,
.
,
s
—
.
.
’
8
.
’
,
s
.
.
,
.
,
,
,
’
r oress s
.
r
e
’
oner s ,
er
’
eco n
’
n s
.
n on s
,
xx i v
’
s,
eo
’
n s,
bered a in the S i x -text ed i tion T/ S t d t ( or
Oxford )
and the Globe edition ; o that
the corresponding line o f the original can always
easily be found
—
A before I have care
s
n
s
T h e p re e t v e r io n
fully endeavoured to preserve the text o f the original
where such a proceeding i practicable O n the other
hand I have avoided the u of obsolete words and
archaic forms and confine myself almost wholly to
modern English words and idioms The retention
f old words and forms only produces a form o f
”
English that never at any time existed ; and is
practi cally misleading The present version in a
word i meant f r the reader who is only acquainted
with m odern Engl i sh and should be judged f
accordingly If any such reader can be i nduced to
study the or i ginal o much the better He will then
understand that the charm and melody of the
original language when rightly understood and pro
and are worth all the
n un c e d are quite i nimitable
honest l abour that may have been expended in acquiring
a sound knowledge of the peculiarities of Chaucer s
speech
u
’
s
Jé
,
’
en
s
s
.
s
,
s
.
se
,
,
.
o
,
.
,
o
s
,
,
o
,
.
,
s
.
,
o
,
,
’
.
XXV
’
E D I TOR S
TH E
TH E
P R E F A CE
TA L E
’
P R I OR E SS S
P
AR D
ON E R S
’
’
TA L E
TH E
CL E R K S
TA L E
TH E
S E C ON D
N UJV S
TH E
CA N ON S YE OM A N S
’
N OTE S
I N D EX
OF
N AME S
’
TA L E
’
TA L E
TH E
P R IO R E S S S T A LE
’
Mother Maid ! O maiden Mother free
0 bush unburnt burning i n Moses sight
That didst draw downward from the D eity
By humbleness the Spirit that did light
Within Thy heart by W hose e ffulgence bright
Conceiv e d wa the F ather s Sapience
Help me to tell i t in Thy reverence
0
’
,
,
,
,
’
s
L ady
Thy goodness Thy magnificence
Thy Virtue and Thy great hum i lity
Can no man s tongue express in fitting sense
For sometimes L ady ere men pray to Thee
Thou go st before in Thy benign i ty
And by Thy prayer pro cur t u the light
To guide u upward to Thy Son aright
,
,
,
’
,
’
,
es
s
s
My cunning is o weak O blissful ! ueen
To utter all Thy mighty worthiness
I scarcely can sustain the weight I ween ;
But as a ch i ld a twelvemonth old or less
That scarcely can a ch i ldish word express
Right so fare I ; and therefore I Thee pray
Now guide me i n the song I have to ay
s
,
,
,
,
,
,
s
.
,
,
H ERE
TH E
B E G I NNE T H
P RIOR E S S S
’
TA L E
H ERE
was in Asia in a city great
Mong Christian folk a Jewish colony
Maintained by one a lord o f high estate,
For l ucre s sake and sordid usury
Hateful to Christ and all H i company
And through the street might all men ride or
For it was free and open at either end
,
,
’
,
,
,
’
s
.
,
A little school o f Christian folk there stood
D own at the further end in which there were
A crowd of children come o f Christian blood
Who in that school were taught from year to year
Such sort of learning as in u e wa there
That i to ay to read and sing thereto
A little children in their childhood do
,
,
,
,
s
s
S
s
,
s
,
,
.
,
Among these children was a w i dow s so n
A little chorister some seven years old
Who day by day to school would blithely run
And eke when he the image did behold
Of Christ s dear Mother as he had been tol d
His custom was to kneel adown and say
H i Av e -Mary ere he went his way
’
,
,
,
,
,
’
,
,
s
.
,
This widow th us her little son hath taught
Our blissful L ady Christ s own Mother sweet
To worship aye and he forgat it not
For forward child will so o nZhis task repeat
But aye when with such circumstance I meet
Saint Nicholas in my presence standeth near
Who at so young an ag did Ch rist revere
’
,
,
.
,
,
,
e
.
This little Child his lesson studying
As in the school his primer he did con
H e Alma R d mpt i heard them sing
As children learnt their anthems one by one
A nd as he durst he near and nearer won
And h ark nes o the words and to the note
Until he knew the first verse all by rote
,
,
,
e
,
or s
e
,
,
e
,
e
.
H e knew not what the
atin meant to say
For he of age so tender was and young
L
6
,
But on a time did he a comrade pray
The ong to construe in his native tongue
O r tell him why this anthem thus was sung
This would he pray him construe and declare
Full oftentimes on bended knees and bare
s
,
.
comrade which that elder was than he
Thus answered him
This song have I heard
Wa written of our blissful L ady free
To bid Her hail ; and further Her to pray
To be our succour in our dying day ;
I cannot of this matter more explain
Small grammar know I but to sing am fain
H is
,
,
:
,
s
,
,
,
,
.
And is this song composed in reverence
Of Christ s dear Mother P — said this innocent ;
Now truly will I do my diligence
To con it all ere Christmas -t i de be spent
Though for my primer I have punishment
And shall be beaten thrice within the hour
”
I ll con it all to praise H er to my power
’
,
,
.
,
,
’
,
.
comrade going homeward secretly
Him taught it day by day and all by rote
And soon he sang it well and lustily
H is
,
,
,
,
,
From word to word each answering to the note
Tw i ce in the day it issued from his throat
Towards the school and homeward a he went
On Christ s dear Mother set was hi intent
,
,
s
’
s
.
And thus throughout the Je wish quarter he
This little child while passing to and fro
Would daily sing and cry full merrily
O Alma R d mpt i balm o f woe
The sweetness hath his spirit pierc e d o
Of Christ s dear Mother that to Her to pray
He cannot cease from singing by the way
,
,
,
,
e
e
or s
,
s
’
,
,
,
ancient foe the serpent Satanas
That hath in Jewish heart his wasp -like nest
Upswelled and said 0 Hebrew folk alas 1
Can this be su ffered by each Jewish breast
That such a boy shall walk where seems him best
In your despite still singing such a song
That to your reverence of the L aw doth wrong
O ur
,
,
,
,
,
75
0
,
,
Thenceforward have the Jewish folk conspired
This innocent from out the world to chase ;
And thereto soon a homicide have hired
That in an alley had a privy place
8
1
75 5
And as the ch ild towards him bent hi pace
This curse d Jew him caught and held him fast
And cut his throat and in a pit him cast
s
,
,
1
,
.
,
I ay they in a loathsome pit him threw
Where ordure vile did evil scents exhale
O curs e d band of cruel Herods new
What can yo ur ill intention you avail
Murder will out in sooth it will not fail
And chiefly where God wills to spread H i name
His blood out -crieth on your deed o f shame
s
,
,
,
!
,
s
.
Martyr devoted to virginity
Now mayst thou sing amid the saints anon
Be fore the white celestial L amb l— quoth she
Of whom the great evangelist S t John
In P atmos wrote who saith that such p ass on
Before the L amb and sing a song all n w
N h ne er of womankind t h embraces knew
,
.
,
e
,
‘
o
,
’
’
.
Now waiteth this poor widow all the night
To see her little child yet came he not
And therefore when appeared the morning light
With face all pale with dread and busy thought
She first at school and elsewhere him hath sought
,
,
,
,
,
9
76 0
Till finally did she the tidings glean
He near the Jewish quarter last was seen
,
.
With mother s pity in her breast enclosed
She goes as she were hal f distraught in mind
To every place wherein sh hath supposed
By likelihood her little child to find ;
And ever on Christ s dear mother meek and kind
She cried till at the last so far he wrought
That she among the curse d Jews him sought
’
,
,
e
’
s
,
.
She prayeth and b e ch t h piteously
Of every Jew that dwelt within that place
To tell her if they saw her child pass by ;
They answered Nay
But Jesu of His grace
P ut in her mind w i thin a little space
That for her son in that same place h cried
Where he was cast within the pit beside
se e
e
,
,
,
s
e
.
O God of heaven that dost Thy praise declare
By mouth o f innocents lo here Thy might !
This gem of chastity this emerald Tare
And eke of martyrdom this ruby bright
Where he with severed throat thus lay upright
He Alma R d mpt i gan to sing
So loud that all the place began to ring
,
,
,
,
,
e
e
or s
,
.
1 0
,
The abbot with his monks th ereafter went
And hastened them to bury him full fast ;
And when they holy water on him cast
Yet spake the child when touched with holy water
And sang — O Alma R d mpt i Mat
,
,
,
,
1
8 30
er
or s
e e
,
The abbot one th at was a holy man
A monks are all or always ought to be
This tender martyr to conjure be gan
And said
0 child o dear ! I crave of thee 1 8 3 5
In virtue of the holy Trinity
Tell me to sing thy song whence comes thy might
Since severed is thy throat as seems to sight
,
,
s
,
,
,
s
,
,
,
,
,
My throat i cut right to the very bone
He said and as by way of human kind
I should have died yea many an hour agone ;
But Jesus Christ as in your books ye find
Wills that H i glory last and be in mind
And for the honour of His Mother dear
I still may sing O Alma loud and clear
s
,
,
,
,
,
,
s
,
,
,
.
This well of mercy Christ s own Mother dear
To love a best I could I still was fain ;
And when the moment of my death drew near
’
,
,
s
,
,
,
1 2.
To me he came and bade me sing again
This holy anthem in my dying pain
A ye have heard ; and when that I had sung
Methought he laid a grain upon my tongue
s
,
,
s
,
s
,
.
Wherefore I sing and still shall sing again
In honour of that blissful Maiden free
Til l from my tongue o ff-taken is the grain
And afterward thus said he unto me
My little child then will I come for thee
When from thy tongue the grain away they take
Be not aghast ; I will thee not forsake
,
,
s
,
,
’
.
This holy man th i s abbot— him mean I
H i tongue hath caught and took away the grain
And he gave up the ghost all peacefully
And when this abb ot saw this wonder plain
His briny tears ran trickling down like rain
And prone he fell all flat upon the ground
And still he lay as if he had been bound
,
s
,
.
,
,
.
,
The monks lay likew i se on the pavement -stone
Weeping and praising oft Christ s Mother dear
And after that they rose and forth are gone
And b ore away th i s martyr from the bier
,
’
,
,
,
I
3
And in a tomb of marble white and clear
They straight enclose his little body sweet
Where he is now God grant us all to meet
.
,
And oh ! young Hugh of L i ncoln ! slain e en o
By Jews a well i known in every place
For it was but a little wh i le ago
P ray eke for u poor sinners weak and base
That in H is mercy God o full of grace
May multiply on us His mercy here
In honour o f H i Mother Mary dear —Amen 1 8 8 0
’
,
s
s
s
s,
,
,
s
,
,
s
H ere is
.
,
ded tlse P riores s
en
’
s
THE
P AR D ON E R S
’
TA L E
N Flanders wa there once a company
Of youth ful folk disposed to revelry
Engrossed with riot gaming hostelries
Wherein with harps and lutes and minstrelsies
They danced and played at dice both day and night
They feasted and they drank beyond their might
And to the devil thus did sacrifice
Within the devil s temples haunts of vice
With gross indulgence such as men should hate ;
Their oaths were all so blasphemous and great
That it was horrible to hear them swear
Our blessed Sa iour s body would they tear
As though Jews rent Him insu ffi ciently
And laughed at one another s blasphemy
And tumbling -girls well -made and young to boot
Would come and dance and girls that sold them fruit
s
,
,
,
,
,
-
.
,
’
,
,
,
’
v
,
’
.
,
,
,
1
7
C
,
Singers with harps and sellers eke of cates
That are the devil s servants and his bai ts
To kindle and blow the fire of luxury
That is annex e d unto gluttony
The holy scripture I to witness take
That wine and drunkenness o ffenders make
,
,
’
,
.
King H erod at his feast with w i ne oppressed
E en at his own royal board proclaimed his hest
To put the guiltless Baptist John to death
,
,
’
,
.
,
Eke Seneca a worthy sentence saith
H e saith he can but little diff rence find
Between a caiti ff that has lost his m i nd
And one that s fallen in a drunken fit
Except that madness o er a bad man s wit
P revaileth longer than doth drunkenness
O gluttony o full of cursedness
O thou first cause o f man s c o nq n
That brought upon us our damnati on
Till Christ had bought us with his blood again
Behold how dear to speak it S hort and plain
Redeemed was that accurst iniquity
Corrupt grew all this world through gluttony
’
’
,
’
’
.
, s
,
’
IO
,
,
,
,
These rioters the three of whom I tell
,
1
8
,
,
The child saith sooth ; for he hath slain this year
A mile hence in a village ye may find
Both man and woman child and page and hind
I trow his habitation must be there
To be advised a wisdom great it were
Ere that he brings dishonour on your head
Yea ! by God s arms
the reckless ruffian said
I it such peril with h i m for to meet !
I go to seek him both by way and street
I make my vow by God s most worthy bones
69 5
Now hearken comrades ! we are three at once
L e t each of u ho ld up his hand to other
And each of u become the others brother
So shall we slay this wilful traitor D eath
He who so many true men m urde re th
H imself shall die by heaven ere it be night
,
,
,
,
,
,
.
.
,
,
,
.
’
,
s
,
’
,
s
,
’
s
.
,
Therewith the three make haste their troths to plight
To live and die together each for other
A s though had eac h been born his fellow s brother
And in their drunken rage they all Upstart
And forth towards the village straight depart
Of which the taverner had told be fore ;
And many a grisly oath they roundly swore
And Ch rist s dear body all in pieces rent
,
,
’
.
,
,
’
2 0
,
D
eath shall be dead to find him are we bent
.
But scarcely had they gone the first hal f-mile
When as they would have mounted o er a stile
A poor old man encountered them right there
This old man meekly gave them greeting fair
And said
With
1
0
7
,
’
,
,
.
,
1
7
The proudest of these reckless ruffian three
“
—
Replied
What ails thee churl with sorry grace
Why art thou all wrapped up except thy face
Why livest thou so long and art o old !
s
,
,
,
s
,
Therew i th the old man did h i s fac e beh old
And thus replied
Because I cannot find
A man yea though I walked to furthest Ind
In village or in city great forsooth
Who for my age w i ll give in change his youth ;
And therefore must I keep my old age still
A s long a time a i my Maker s will
And D eath declines to take my life alas
Thus like a restless caiti ff here I pass
And on the ground which is my mother s gate
I knock still with my sta ff both soon and late
And say My kindly mother let me in !
,
,
,
,
s
’
s
.
,
,
,
,
’
,
,
,
,
,
,
2 1
5
See how I vanish flesh and blood and skin
Alas ! when w i ll my bones be all at rest !
With you dear mother would I change my chest
O f clothes that in my chamber long hath been
Yea ! fo r a cloth of hair to wrap me in
But yet h will not do to me that grace
Wherefore full pale and wrinkled is my face
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
s
e
.
But sirs ! for you it i no courtesy
To o ffer one that s old contumely
Unless he trespass first in word or deed
In Holy Writ ye may yourselves well read
Before an old man with a hoary head
With rev rence rise ; by good advice be l d
And to an old man see no harm ye do
No more than ye would men should do to you
In age if ye o long on earth abide
Now God be w i th you where ye roam or ride
”
I must go thither where I have to go
s
,
’
,
.
,
’
e
s
,
,
.
.
Now nay by heaven ! old churl thou shalt not o
The second gamester answering spake anon
Thou parte t not so lightly by saint John !
Thou spak t e en nOw o f that false tra i tor D eath
That in this land our comrades murd r th
s
,
s
’
s
,
,
’
,
e e
2 2
.
Now hear my vow and a thou art his py
S ay where he i or be prepared to die
By h a n and by the holy sacrament !
For truly thou art one that dost consent
To slay u younger folk deceit ful thie f !
,
,
s
s
s,
e
v
,
,
’
,
,
s
,
Now sirs quoth he if thus ye deem it lief 76 0
To seek for D eath turn up this crooked way
I left him late in yonder grove I ay
Under a tree and there will he abide ;
Nor for your boasts against him will he hide
See ye that oak ! e en there shall ye him find !
God save you He that once redeemed mankind
”
And mend your ways ! 8 0 spake the gray -haired man
And thereupon these gamesters swi ftly ran
Till came they to the tree and there they found
O f golden flori ms fine new -coined and round
Well nigh some eight full bushels as they thought
No longer then D eath s hi ding -place they sought
But each of them so glad was of the sight
Because the flo rin shone so fair and bright
That down they at beside the precious hoard
The worst of them he spake the foremost word
“
,
,
,
s
,
,
,
,
,
.
’
,
,
.
,
,
,
.
,
’
,
,
s
,
s
.
.
,
Take heed
,
quoth he
my brethren what I
,
2
,
3
sa
y
My wit is great howe er I jest and play
This treasure Fortune us hath deigned to give
In mirth and jollity our lives to live ;
L et s spend it lightly as it lightly came
Who would have thought by God s most holy name !
That we should gain to day o fair a grace !
But might this gold be carried from this place
Home to my house my friend or else to yours 78 5
For well ye know that all this gold is ours
Then should we be in high felicity
But verily by day this may not be
For men wo uld ay we were fo r robbers known
And hang us for the treasure that s our own !
This treasure must be carried hence by night
As wisely and as slily as it m ight
I counsel that the lot among u all
Be drawn ; then e we where the lot will fall
And he that draws the lot with jocund heart
Shall quickly running to the town depart
And bring u bread and wine full secretly
And two of us S hall guard all faithfully
This treasure well ; and if he will not tarry
When night is come we may this treasure carry 8 00
”
W ith one approved consent where er we list
Then one of them the lot h ld in his fist
’
.
,
,
’
.
,
’
,
-
s
,
,
.
,
s
,
’
.
s
se
,
,
,
,
s
.
,
,
,
,
’
.
,
e
2
4
,
And bade them draw and mark where it might fall
It fell upon the youngest of them all ;
And forth towards the town he went anon
And e en a soon as ever he wa gone
The one o f them thus spake unto the other
Thou knowest well t ho u t sworn to be my brother
Thy profit will I tell thee right anon
Thou knowest well our comrade hence i gone
And here i gold a full great quant ty
That i to be divided mongst u three
But ne rth l should I contrive anew
How it might be divided t ween u two
Should I not do a friendly turn to thee !
.
,
.
’
s
s
,
’
r
.
s
s
i
,
’
s
’
e
,
,
s
.
e e ss,
’
s
,
I know not how said he that well m ay be
He knows the gold remaineth with u two ;
What shall we ay to him ! What must we do
,
,
s
s
Wilt keep a secret
said th i s evil man ;
Then briefly will I tell you all my plan
”
What we w i ll do to br i ng it all about
!
,
,
.
“
d,
Agreed the other sai
without a doubt ;
”
For by my troth I ne er will prove untrue
,
’
,
,
.
.
“
Now quoth the first thou knowest we are two ;
82 5
And two of u must stronger be than one
Observe when he sits down and right anon
Arise as though thou d t strive w i th him in play
And in his side I ll stab him as I may
Whilst that thou struggle t with him a i n game
And with thy dagger e thou do the same
And then shall all this gold divided be
My dearest friend between thyself and me
Then may we both our pleasures all fulfil
And play at dice all at our own sweet will
And thus consented have these rufl
ian twain
To slay the third a ye have heard full plain
,
,
s
.
,
’
,
s
’
,
,
s
s
s e
.
,
,
.
,
.
s
,
s
.
The youngest one that went towards the town
Full oft in heart he rolleth up and down
The beauty of these flrins n w and bright
O L ord ! quoth he if so were that I might
Have all this treasure to myself alone
There i no man that liveth neath the throne
O f God that then should live a merry as I
And at the last the fien d our enemy
P ut in his thought some poison he should buy
Wherewith to cause hi comrades twain to die
For ah ! the fiend hath found him living so
,
,
o
e
.
,
,
’
s
s
,
,
,
,
,
s
,
2
6
Of whom he borrowed large -sized vessels three
And in the twain his poison poured hath he ;
The third for his own drinking kept he clean
For all the night to labour did he mean
In carrying all the treasure from the place
And when this rioter forlorn o f grace
Had filled with wine his weighty bottles three
Back to his comrades straight re pair th he
.
.
.
,
,
,
e
.
What needeth it to speak about it more !
For e en as they had plann d his death before
E en so have they him slain and that anon
And when this wa accomplished spake the one
Now let us it and drink and make u merry ;
”
And a fterward will we his body bury
And with that word it chanced to be his case
To take a bottle where the poison was
And drank and gave his comrade dr i nk beside
Whereby anon these w i cked robbers died
And truly I suppose that A ic én
Wrote never in the Canon or in Fen
More wondrous symptoms o f empoisoning
That had these wretches ere their perishing
Thus ended are these curs e d homicides
And eke the treacherous poisoner besides
’
’
,
’
.
,
s
s
,
s
,
.
,
,
.
v
,
.
,
.
2
8
THE
CL E R K S T A L E
’
Here f ollo wed! tlae P
.
lg
f
ro o ue o
tb e Cleré o
’
f
'
Oxford
s
U R host unto the clerk of Oxford said
You ride as still and coy as cloth a maid
But newly wedded sitting at the board
Your tongue to d ay has uttered ne er a word
I tro w you study on some theme subli me
Saith Solomon for all things there s a time
,
,
’
.
,
’
’
.
,
F or all
sakes pray be of better cheer
T is no w no time for you to study here
But tell us all some merry tale I pray
For every man that enters in a play
He needs must alway to the game assent
But preach not as the friars do in L ent
To make us fo r our former errors weep
Take heed too lest the tale should make us sleep
our
,
’
.
,
,
.
,
,
31
.
Tell us some merry thing o f real events
Your terms your phrases and your ornaments
Keep them in store until ye shall endite
In lo fty style as when to kings you write
And speak plainly for the nonce I pray
”
That we may understand what er you ay
,
,
,
.
,
so
,
,
e
’
s
.
This worthy clerk benignly h im addres ed
”
My host quoth he I bow beneath your hest
The gui dance o f us all is laid on you
And therefore render I obedience due
A far as reason rules us heartily
To you will I relate a tale that I
O nce learnt at P adua of a worthy clerk
As proved is by hi words and by his work
He now is dead and nailed within his chest
I pray that God receive his soul to rest
s
,
,
,
,
,
s
.
,
,
,
,
s
.
,
Francesco P etrarch poet laureate
This clerk was named whose rhetoric so great
Illumined Italy with poetry
As L inian did with his philosophy
Or law or other art he knew so well
But death that will not grant us here to dwell
But as it were a twinkling o f an eye
,
,
,
,
.
,
,
,
3
2
.
Hath sla i n them both ; and we shall likewise
die
To tell you further of th i s worthy man
Who
taught
me
all
the
tale
as
I
began
(
)
I say that first i n high style he e ndite th
Ere he the body of his story writeth
A proem where the s ite descr i beth he
O f P iedmont and S aluz z o s boundary
And speaks of Apennines the mountains high
That form the bounds of western L ombardy
A nd first of Monte Viso do th he tell
Where i ssu i ng from 1 spr i ng a little well
The P 0 that m i ghty river takes i ts so urce
And eastward still increasing in i ts course
E milia Ferrara Venice sees
All which would take too long to tell at ease
And certa i nly — for so my judgement deems
Methinks a thing irrelevant it seems
Save that he wo uld his learning should appear ;
And this the Tale i which ye now shall hear
,
,
,
,
,
,
’
,
,
,
,
.
,
1 18
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
.
,
s,
.
33
.
And therewithal to speak of lineage
Was he the noblest born in L ombardy
Full fair of person strong and young of age
And full of honour and of courtesy
D iscreet to rule his pr i nc i pality
Save that in some respects he was to blame
And W alter was th i s youthful prince s name
,
,
,
,
,
’
.
In this I blame him he considereth not
I n future time what chance may him be tide
But all on present pleasure set his thought
To hawk or hunt the deer on every side
Well nigh all other actions let he slide ;
And eke he would not ( wh i ch wa worst of all )
Wed any w i fe for aught that might befall
,
,
s
,
.
But on this point his people felt so sore
That to his presence once they throng i ng went
And one of them the wisest deemed in lore
Or one to whom the lord would best assent
A fit to tell him what his people meant
Or else could best the pe 0p1 e s w i sh make clear
Unto the marquis S pake as ye shall hear
,
,
s
,
’
.
O noble marquis ! your humanity
Assures us all and gives us hardiness
36
,
,
time is of nece sity
That we should tell you what is our distress
Now gracious lord ! receive with gentleness
The plea where i n our woeful hearts complain
And never let your ears my vo i ce disda i n
As
o
ft
as
s
,
,
,
.
Although I have not in this matter here
More int r t than have others i n th i s place
Yet forasmuch as ye my lord so dear
Have always showed me favour and good grace
I dare more b oldly ask of you a space
Of audience to express our full request
Then may ye do my lord what seemeth best
’
es
,
,
,
,
,
,
F o r truly ,
.
lord so great delight we take
In you and all your work alway that we
Could never of ourselves proposal make
W hereby to l i ve in more fel i c i ty ;
Save only th i s that i f your w i ll i t be
To be a wedded man i t might you please
Then were your people s hearts i n fullest ease
,
,
,
,
,
’
.
Submit you to that yoke of happy fate
That sovereignty not serv i tude i mplies
Wh i ch men call marr i age or the wedde d state
,
,
37
,
And th i nk amongst your meditat i ons wise
I n var i ous acts how fast our lifeti m e flies ;
F or though we sleep or wake or roam or ride
Still flies the time and will for no man bide
,
,
,
,
,
.
And though your youth now flo uri h th so green
In slily creepeth age as still as stone ;
D eath t hr ate n th every age and strikes unseen
At every rank from whom escapeth none
And just as s urely as we know each one
That we must d ie uncertain are we all
Of that sure day when death shall on us fall
e
s
,
,
e
e
,
.
,
,
,
.
Accept ye then our humble true i ntent
Who evermore your gracious hests embrace
And we will lord if o be ye assent
Choose you a wife w i thin a little space
Born of the noblest and most wealthy race
Of all th i s land so that our choice may seem
To honour God and you as best we deem
,
,
,
s
,
,
.
,
From all th i s anxious fear your subjects rid
And take a wife for all the country s sake ;
For if i t o befell— wh i ch God forbid
That through your death your line an end should make
,
’
,
s
,
,
38
,
And that a strange inheritor should take
Your her i tage twere woe to all alive !
Wherefore we pray you hastily to wive
’
,
Their h umble prayer and the i r subm i ssive cheer
Inclined the marquis to receive their plea
Ye will quoth he my faithful people dear
To that I never thought of coun sel me ;
Till now rejoiced I in my li be rty
That seldom in the marr i age -state i found
Where I was free ye now would have me bound
.
’
,
,
,
,
s
,
But none the less I se your true intent
And in your wisdom put my tru st alway
Wherefore o f my free will I here consent
To wed a wife as soo n as
I may
But whereas ye have proffere d me to -day
To choose my wife there i n will I release
Your choice and pray you from that offer cease
e
,
’
e er
,
.
,
,
For God doth know that chil dren oft i ndeed
Are all u nl i ke the parents whence they grew ;
All goodness is of God not from the breed
Whereof they are engendered and ensue ;
In God s great goodness trust I wherefore too
,
,
’
,
39
.
.
My marriage and my future s tate and rest
To H im I leave to guide me for the best
,
.
me alone i n choosing of my w i fe
That charge upon my back w i ll I endure ;
But th i s I pray and charge you on your life
Whatever wi fe I take ye shall be sure
To worship her whilst that her life may dure
I n word and work both here and everywhere
A s i f the daughter of a king he were
Let
,
,
,
,
,
s
,
,
.
And furthermore th i s shall ye swear that ye
Aga inst my choice shall ne er complai n or str i ve
For since I must forgo my liberty
At your request know as I hope to thr i ve
W here er my heart is se t there w i ll I w i ve ;
Unless ye w i ll assent as I declare
I pray you speak no more of th i s a ffa i r
,
,
’
,
,
,
’
,
,
.
W i th hearty w i ll th ey swear i t and assent
To all th i s matter no man said h i m nay
Beseech i ng as a favour ere they went
That he would grant to name a certain day
For hi espousal soon as e er he may ;
For still the people somewhat stood i n dread
L est this young marqu i s would no consort wed
,
,
s
,
’
,
.
He granted them a day a seemed him best
Whereon he would be wedded certa inly
And sai d he d i d all this at their request ;
And they with humble hearts obediently
Kneel i ng upon their knees full reverently
All g i ve him thanks and thus they gain the end
Of their desire and home agai n they wend
,
s
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
.
And hereupon unto hi househ old all
He gives commands a banquet to purvey ;
And for his knights and squires doth quickly call
And shows what duties he would on them lay
And they w i th joy his every hest obey ;
And each of them doth all h i s diligence
To do unto the feast true reverence
s
,
.
.
tl
se
Firs t
and
begins tb c S econd
.
But if we speak of beauty of the mind
The fairest maid was she beneath the un ;
For nursed i n poverty severely kind
No wanton fancies through her heart had run ;
And oftener of the well than of the tun
She drank ; and s i nce S he fain would V i rtue please
She well knew labour but no idle ease
,
s
,
,
,
.
,
But though of tender age this ma i den yet
Within the breast of her virgini ty
A judgement ripe and w i se had firmly se t
And with great reverence and charity
H er poor old father du ly fostered sh
A few sheep while he span afield he kept ;
She w i shed not to be idle till he slept
,
e
s
,
s
,
s
.
And when she homeward came he w i th her brought 2 2 5
S ome worts or herbs full many a time and oft
The wh i ch she shred and seethed and pottage wrought
And made her bed full hard and now i se so ft ;
And aye he kept her father s li fe aloft
With every art of kindly diligence
That child may do in father s reverence
,s
,
,
,
’
s
’
.
Upon Gr i selda creature poor but fair
Full oftentimes this marqu i s se t his eye
,
,
44
As he to r i de a-hunting would repa i r
And when i t happened that he might her spy
He wi th no wanton glance or foolish s igh
Would gaze on her but soberly i ndeed
Of her demeanour would he take good heed
,
,
,
Commend i ng i n h i s heart her woman s a i r
And eke her virtue passing every wight
Of age so young in look and action fair
For though his people have no spec i al sight
For virtue he considered hath ar i ght
H er goodness and resolved to wed indeed
No woman else whene er to wed was need
’
,
,
.
,
,
,
’
.
,
The day of wedd ing came but no one c an
D iscern wh at woman sho uld h is consort b e
And at th i s marvel wondered many a man ;
They said whene er their private speech was
Will not our lord yet leave his vanity !
!
Will he not wed Alas alas the wh i le !
Why w ill he thus himself and us beguile
,
’
,
But ne e rthe le ss th i s marqui s bade them make
Of gems well se t i n gold and az ure br i ght
Brooches and rings for fair Gr i selda s sak e ;
’
,
,
’
,
45
And for her clothing measured her aright
By means of one that seemed her very height
P rocuring other decorations all
That unto such a wedding should befall
.
The middle -morning of the very day
Approaches when this wedding was to be ;
And all the palace put was in array
Both hall and chamber each in its degree
There men the o fl
ic e well crammed may see
With plenty of the daintiest food that e er
In I taly could well be counted rare
,
,
,
s
’
.
This royal marquis splendidly arrayed
With lords and ladies in his company
Who to attend the banquet had been pra yed
With bachelors -in-arms and chivalry
And many a sound of sundry melody
Towards the village of the which I tol d
In this array the nearest way they hold
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
.
of this God kno ws full innocent
That for her sake was formed this great array
To fetch some water to a fountain went
And cometh home as soon as e er she may
G rise ld
,
,
,
’
.
46
,
For well had she heard said that very day
The marq uis was to wed ; and if sh might
She fain would somewhat see o f that fair sight
,
e
,
.
She thought
I will with other m aidens stand
That be my fellows at the door and ee
The march i oness ; and now must take in hand
To do at home as soon as it may be
The labour that as usual falls to me ;
And then may I at leisure her behol d
If she th i s way towards the castle hold
,
s
,
,
,
,
.
And as h o er the threshold scarce had gone,
The marquis came and her began to call
And he t down her water -pot anon
Beside the threshold in an ox stall
And down upon her knees began to fall
And with a patient mien h knee le th still
Till she should hear what was her master s wi ll
s
’
e
,
s
se
,
’
s
,
s
e
’
.
This thoughtful marqu i s spake unto th i s ma i d
Full so berly and said as ye shall hear
”
thus he said
Gri ld where is your father !
And h with reverent and humble cheer
”
My lord all ready answered him and near
,
se
s
,
e,
,
,
,
,
47
.
And i n w i thout delay he quickly goes
A nd to the marquis soon her father shows
s
,
.
Then by the hand he took this aged man
And thus he spi ke wh i le drawing him aside
Janic ula I neither may nor can
L onger the pleasure that I h 0pe for hide
If so be thou vouchsa fe whate er betide
Thy daughter will I take e er home I wend
To b e my wife unti l my life shall end
,
,
,
,
.
’
,
,
’
,
,
,
.
I know the love thou dost for me d i splay
W ho art my fa i thful liege -man evermore
And all that pleaseth me I well dare ay
I t pleaseth thee and spec i ally therefore
Tell me the point whereof I spake before
I f that thou wilt unto that purpose draw
H enceforth to take me for thy so n-in-law
,
s
,
,
,
,
,
Th i s sud den chance this man astonied so
That red he gre w abashed and quaking all
He stood and scarcely co uld his answer S how
But only sa i d
My w i ll ye well may call
Your own my lord nor can your humble thrall
Your w ill Oppose my lord are ye so dear
”
E en as you please dec i de this matter here
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
’
.
,
48
Yet will I quoth this marquis tenderly
That in thy chamber thou and I and he
A con ference shall hold ; and k no w t thou why !
I fain would ask her if her will may be
To b my wi fe obedient still to me
And all this shall be done while thou art near ;
”
I would not ay a word thou canst not hear
,
,
s
’
s
e
.
,
s
.
And while they in the chamber were about
This conference a ye shall after hear
The people came around the house without
And wondered ho w with reverential cheer
And carefully h kept her father dear
And utterly Gr i selda wonder m i ght
Who ne er before had seen o great a sight
s
,
,
,
,
,
s
e
.
,
’
s
.
No wonder is i t though h were amazed
To e S o great a guest approach the place
On guest like th i s she never yet had gazed
And therefore looked adown with pallid face
But briefly forward i n my tale to pace
These are the very words the marquis sai d
To th s benign and truly faithfu l ma i d
s
e
s e
,
.
,
i
”
he sa id ye well may understand
It pleaseth b oth your father clear and me
Grise ld,
,
49
,
That I shall wed you ; and it so may stand
As I suppose ye will that th i s shall be
”
But first some questions would I a k quoth b
That since this shall b e done th i s hasty way
Wi ll you assent or plead for some delay !
,
.
,
s
,
e,
,
,
,
I ask you are ye ready w i th g o od heart
To do my will so that I freely may
E en at my pleasure cause you joy or smart
W hile ye make no complaint by night or day !
And eke w hen I say yea ne er ay me nay
E i ther by word or proud d i sdainful air !
”
Swear th i s and I to our alliance swear
,
,
,
,
’
,
,
’
,
’
‘
s
,
,
.
S ti ll wonder i ng at hi speech and filled w i th dread
She sa id
My lord through my indignity
I feel how great the honour thee to wed
But as ye w i ll yourself right so will I
And here I swear that never w i ll i ngly
In work or thought will I you disobey
E en though obed i ence should my life b etray
s
,
,
,
.
,
.
,
,
,
,
,
’
.
Th i s is eno ugh Gr i selda mine quoth he ;
And forth he goes w i th calm and sober cheer
Out at the door and after h i m came he
,
,
s
,
5°
.
With joyful crowds that for her welcome met
Conveyed her home and thus the day they spend
In revel t i ll the un began descend
,
,
s
,
.
And briefly further in this tale to pace
I say that to this youthful marchioness
God hath such favour granted o f His grace
That no man wo uld have guessed the likeliness
That h was born and bred in rude distress
A in a cot or in an ox s stall
B ut nour i shed rather in an emperor s hall
,
,
,
e
s
,
’
s
,
’
.
To every w i ght S he soon hath grown dear
A nd worshipful that folk where he was born
And from her birth had known her year by year
Could scarce believe it but they durst have sworn
That to Janicula o poor and lorn
She ne er was daughter but o great her grace
She seemed a creature of another race
so
s
,
,
,
,
,
s
,
’
,
,
s
,
.
For though that ever virtuous wa she
She now had so i ncreased i n excellence
Of noble merit and benignity
D iscreet w i thal and fa i r of eloquence
So gentle and deserving reverence
s
,
,
,
,
,
5
:
And could so well the hearts of men embrace
That all men loved her who beheld her face
,
.
Not only in S alu o noble town
Was published wide the goodness of her name
But eke beside in many a regi on
I f one spake well another spake the same ;
So spread of her benignity the fame
That men and women young as well a o ld
Would seek the town her person to behold
z z
’
s
,
,
,
,
s
,
,
.
,
Thus Walter lowly — rather royally
W ith honour wedded fortunate and free
In peace divine now liveth easily
At home and outward grace enough had he ;
And as he saw that under low degree
True virtue might b e hid the folks him own
A prudent man ; and such are seldom known
,
,
,
,
,
,
Not only this Griselda by her wit
Knew all the tasks of wifely homeliness
But eke whene er the case demanded it
The people s profit co uld she well redress
No discord rose or strife or heaviness
In all that land but h could soon appease
And wisely bring them all in rest and ease
,
,
,
’
,
,
’
.
,
,
,
s
e
.
53
.
,
Though that her husband absent were anon
If gentlemen or men o f low degree
Were wroth she soon could t them all at one
Such w i se advice and words mature had she
And judgements of o great an equity
That sent she seemed from heaven said every wight
To help mankind and every wrong to right
,
,
se
,
,
s
,
,
.
No long time a fter this Griselda fair
Had wedded been a daughter fair she bore ;
She sooner would have borne a o n and heir
But none the less it gladdened less and m Or
For though a maiden child may come before
She yet by likelihood may bear a boy
Not being barren to complete their joy
,
s
e.
,
,
,
,
.
,
and
d b tlz e S econd
en e t
54
begins tb e
,
P A RT
III
T happened as has happened oft before
That when th i s child had sucked not many a day
Th i s marquis in hi heart did long so sore
To tempt hi wi fe her firmness to assay
That all in vain he strove to cast away
This marvelous desire his wife to try
W hat need to fright her from her constancy !
,
,
s
s
,
,
,
He had enough assayed her oft before
And found her ever good W hat needed it
!
To tempt her thus and alway more and more
Though some men pra i se him for his subtle w i t
I ay for my part that tis all unfit
To tempt a wi fe when need i nowise near
By putting her in angu i sh and in fear
,
.
,
s
’
,
,
s
,
.
55
,
,
This marquis there fore wrought as ye shall hear
He came alone by night to where h lay
With visage stern and with a troubled cheer
46 5
”
And thus he spake
quoth he that day
Gri ld
Whereon I took you from your poor array
And t you in estate f nobleness
Ye scarcely have forgotten as I guess
s
e
,
,
se
se
,
,
o
,
,
.
I ay Gris ld this present dignity
Wherein that I have set you as I tro w
Ne er maketh you forgetful for to be
I took you from a poor estate and l w
Where little hOp of wealth you well could know ;
Take heed how every word I speak i true
There is no wight that hears it save u two
s
e
,
,
,
,
,
’
o
,
e
s
,
s
,
.
Ye know yourself full well how came ye here
Into this house it is not long ago
And though to me indeed ye be full dear
Unto my nobles ye are nowise so ;
They ay— to the m tis only shame and w
To be so subject in s ubservient state
To thee that wast a village -maid of late
,
,
,
’
s
oe
,
,
,
.
And since thy daughter s birth especially
To speak such words a these they seldom cease ;
’
,
s
56
,
48 5
But I desire as hitherto to be
Their friend and live with them in rest and peace
I must not carelessly such harm increase ;
I must do with thy daughter fo r the best
Not a I would but at the people s hest
,
,
,
,
’
s
.
,
And yet God knows full loath is th i s to me
But n t h le s except I tell you all
”
I nought will do ; but this I wish quoth he
That ye assent to this that must be fall
Show by your deeds your patience ye recall
Whereby ye promised surely to abide
That day that first our marriage did decide
,
,
’
e er
e
s,
,
,
,
.
.
On hearing this no change came o er her face
She altered not in tone or mien or eyes
But seemed as if h felt of grief no trace
She sai d My lord all in your pleasure lies
My child and I in most obedient wise
Are wholly yours and ye can save or kill
That which i all your own— then work your will
’
,
,
,
,
s
,
,
e
.
,
,
,
s
There nothing is as G o d my soul shall save
That pleases you that may disquiet me
Nor aught is that I may desire to have
—
.
,
57
'
.
Or ever dread to lose save only ye !
This w i ll is in my heart and aye shall be
No length of time or death may this deface
”
Nor true devotion from my mind d i splace
,
,
.
,
.
G lad was this marqu i s of her answer meek
But yet he feigned as if he were not so ;
Severe his aspect was and pale his cheek
When that he fro m the chamber turned to go
Soon a fter this in half an hour I trow
He secretly hath told his whole i ntent
Unto a man whom to h i s wi fe he sent
,
,
,
,
.
,
.
,
A kind o f sergeant was this silent man
Whom o ftentimes he trusty found and true
In great affairs ; such folk as these well can
Swift execution on the evil do
H is lord well knew he loved and feared him too
And when this sergeant learnt h i s master s will
Into her chamber stalked he slow and st i ll
,
’
,
.
,
Madam he said ye must forgive it me
Though I do that whereto I am constrained
By wise experience well aware are y
P erforming lords commands must not be feigned
,
,
,
e,
’
58
.
With full ad face and o ft the child did kiss
And soothed it and commended it to bliss
s
,
,
.
,
And thus sh spake with gentle voice and mind
Farewell my child ! thy face I ne er shall e ;
But no w that with the cross I thee have signed
So mayst thou by the Saviour blesse d be
That died fo r man s sake on a cross o f tree
To Him thy soul dear daughter I commend
For thou for my sake hast to -night thine end
e
,
,
’
se
,
,
’
.
,
,
,
,
.
,
E en to a n urse in such a case I trow
It had been hard this rueful sight to e ;
Well might a mother then h ave cried fo r woe
But n th l o firm of mind was she
That h endured extreme adversity
And to the sergeant thus h meekly said
Take here again your young and tender maid
’
,
,
s e
’
e er
s
e e ss s
,
e
,
s
e
,
.
Go now quoth h
and do my lord s request
But one thing yet I pray you of your grace
That save ye be forbidden by his hest
Bury this body in some secret place
Where beast or bird may ne er its form de face
But he no ans wer in reply would say
But took the child and went upon his way
,
s
’
e,
,
,
,
,
’
.
,
,
.
60
This sergeant came unto his lord again
And of Griselda s words and of her cheer
He told him point by point in language plain
And him pr nte th with his daughter dear
Some signs of pity in this lord appear
But n rth l hi purpose held he still
As lords w i ll do when they would have their will
,
’
,
,
e se
’
e e
.
e e ss
s
,
,
And bade hi sergeant that all se cretly
He shortly must this c hildj nwrap with care
With every due protection tenderly
And in a pannier or a scarf it bear
But lest his head he forfeit then and there
That no man shall be told o f hi i ntent
Nor whence he came nor whither that he went
s
,
,
e
,
,
,
,
,
s
,
,
.
But at Bologna to hi s i ster dear
Who P anag as countess did possess
He straight should tell the tale and bid her hear
Beseeching her to do her business
Th i s child to foster in all gentleness ;
And whose child that it was he prayed her hide
From every wight for aught that may betide
s
,
,
o
,
,
,
,
.
This sergeant goes and hath fulfilled th i s thing ;
But to the marquis now return wi ll we
,
.
6
1
,
For now he watching goes examining
If by his wife s demeanour he could ee
O r by her utterance perce i ve that sh
Was altered such he never her could find
But still he seemed the same serene and kind
,
’
s
,
e
,
,
s
,
As glad as meek as prompt a in her lies
A n d eke i n love all she was wont to be
Continued he to him in every wise
Nor of her daughter e er a word spake she
No S ign of mourning for adversity
Wa seen i n her and ne er her daughter s name
She named aloud in earnest or in game
s
,
,
s
,
.
’
.
’
s
’
,
.
P art f ollo ws
62
.
P A RT
IV
N such a manner passed four years or more
Ere h with child was ; and by God s decree
h to the marquis bore
so n and he ir
A ch i ld i n v i rtues r i ch and fair to e e
W h i ch when h i s father knew not only he
But all the country round their hearts upraise
For sake of this and render Go d their praise
’
s
e
s
e
,
s
,
,
.
.
,
When i t was two years old and from the breast
W as taken of h i s nurse upon a day
This marquis once aga i n the w i sh possessed
To tempt hi w i fe st i ll further if he may
What needed it her firmness to assay !
But wedded men no measure know I fear
When thus a w i fe s endurance doth appear
,
,
s
,
.
,
,
’
.
63
,
Wife said this marquis ye have heard before
My people take our marr i age much amiss
And since to me a son and he i r ye bore
In all our lives twas never worse than th i s
Their muttering daunts my heart and mars my bliss
For to my ears their murmurs seem o rude
That wel l nigh all my courage is subdued
,
,
,
’
.
s
.
For now they say When Walter hence i gone
Then will the blood of Janic l succeed
To be our lord ; for other heir is none
My people ay such words a these indeed
Well ought I of such murmurs take good heed ;
For certainly I dread such insolence
Though not said plainly in mine audience
s
,
e
’
.
s
s
635
,
.
I fain would live in peace if so I m i ght
And therefore am determ ined utterly
,
,
,
E en a hi sister once I served by night
Right so I think to serve him secretly
Of th i s I warn you lest all suddenly
O ut of their wonted calm your feelings stray ;
Be patient and endure your fate I pray
’
s
s
,
.
,
,
I have
quoth she sa i d th i s and ever shall
I nought desire nor will from aught refrain
,
,
,
.
,
64
,
645
Save at your will ; it grieves me not at all
Though that my daughter and my so n be slain
P rovided your commandment o ordain
I in our chil dren have no part I trow
Save sickness first and after pain and woe
s
,
.
,
,
.
,
Our lord are ye deal therefore with your own
Right as ye would no c o un e l a k o f me
For as I left my clothes and came alone
When first I came to you e en so quoth she
I left behind my will and liberty
And took your clothing ; wherefore now I pray
D o all your will ; in all things I obey
s
r
s
’
.
’
,
,
,
,
,
.
truly if I had the pre c e nc
To know your will ere ye your wishes tol d
I fain would do i t free from negligence
But now I know the wishes ye un fold
I firm and stable all your pleasure hold
For knew I that my death would give you ease
Right gladly would I die your will to please
A nd
s r
,
e
,
,
,
.
,
.
For death can show no true compar i son
”
Bes i de your love
And when he spi ed alway
His wife s firm constancy he cast adown
.
’
,
6s
,
,
ruthful eyes and wondered how h may
I n patience Su ffer all this sore dismay
And forth with saddened look did straight depart
But felt a secret pleasure i n hi heart
H is
s
,
e
,
s
.
Th i s ugly sergeant in the selfsame wise
A he her daughter caught o likewise he
Or in worse way if man can worse devise
Hath caught her o n so full of grace and glee ;
And all the while o patient stil l was he
That he no token gave of heav i ness
But kissed her child and after did it bless
s
,
s
,
,
,
s
,
s
s
s
,
,
,
.
Save only this— she prayed him if he might
Her little o n full deep in earth to grave
His tender limbs so delicate to sight
From birds or beasts of rapine for to save ;
But sh from h i m might nowise answer have
He went hi way a if he re e k d of naught
But to Bologna tenderly i t brought
,
s
,
,
,
,
e
s
e
s
.
,
.
Th i s marquis wo ndere th ever more and more
To se e her patience and except that he
So certainly had ascertained before
How perfectly her ch i ldren cherished sh
,
e,
66
And still a older he would daily grow
The truer still — if possible — she strove
To prove herself in faithfulness and love
,
s
s
,
.
And therefore i t appeared that in th twain
There was but
will what was Walter s hest
That very end would sh desire to gain
And— God be praised — all happened for the best
She plainly showed that ne er to shun unrest
A wi fe should of herself express desires
For aught but what her husband most requires
e
’
one
,
e
’
,
,
,
,
.
The scandal spread of Walter o ft and wide
That with a cruel heart he wickedly
Because he wedded had a village -bride
H ad murdered both his ch i ldren secretly
Such rumour rose amongst them commonly
No wonder for unto the people s ear
There came no word but that they murdered were
,
,
,
,
.
’
,
And therefore whereas all his folk before
H ad loved him well this slander of his fame
Converted them to hate him yet the more
To be a murderer is a hateful name
But ne rthele ss for earnest or for game
,
,
.
’
e
,
,
68
.
.
He from hi cruel course would ne er relent
To tempt his wife was now his sole intent
’
s
.
When that hi daughter now was twelve years old
He at the court of Rome ( in subtle wise
Informed o f his intent ) his message tol d
Commanding them a charter to devise
A best might speed his cruel enterprise
How that the pope as for h is people s goo d
Bade him to wed another if he would
s
,
s
,
’
,
,
,
.
I ay he bade his agents counterfeit
Bulls from the pope as making ment on
That he hath leave his marriage to delete
As by the Father s dispensati on
To stay all rancour and dissensi on
Betwixt his folk and him ; o said the bull
The which they soon have published all in full
s
,
i
,
,
’
,
s
,
The common people as no wonder is
Full well supposed the case had been right o ;
But to Griselda when they spak e of this
I deem that in her heart was hea y woe
But sh remaining steadfast neath the blow
Was re solute this creature schooled in pain
Th adversity of fortune to sustain
,
,
s
,
v
.
’
e,
,
,
,
’
69
.
,
Abidi ng still his pleasure and his will
To whom he — heart and all — was given by fate
A s all -suffic ie nt her desires to fill
But shortly all this story to relate
This marquis secretly hath written stra ight
A letter show ing all his full intent
Which to Bologna secretly was sent
s
,
,
.
The earl of P anago who years before
Wedded his sister prayed he specially
To br i ng hi two fair children home once more
W ith honourable state all openly
But one thing he i mplored him utterly
That he to no man though they oft enquire
Would tell what noble was these children s sire ;
,
,
s
,
.
,
,
,
,
’
But ay the maiden young should wedded be
Unto the marquis of Saluce anon
And as this earl was asked to do did he ;
He chose a day and on his way is gone
Towards Saluce with nobles many a one
In rich array this mai den sweet to guide
Her little brother riding close beside
s
,
.
,
,
,
,
,
,
.
Arrayed for marriage glorious to behold
Was this fair maid bedecked with jewels clear ;
,
,
,
70
P A RT
V
MON G all this beside his acts unkind
T h marquis fain to tempt his wife y t more
To prove th endurance of her constant m ind
A nd by experience fully to explore
If still she were as steadfast as before
He on a day in audience of the co urt
Spake openly in this unkindly sort
,
,
e
e
,
’
,
‘
,
,
,
,
my pleasure has been truly great
In choosing you my wife fo r worthiness
For Open truth and meek obedient state
Not for your lineage or your wealth s excess
But now I know in very soothfastness
That in great lordship as my fears advise
There is great servitude in sundry wise
G rise ld,
,
,
’
,
,
,
,
.
,
73
,
I may not do as every ploughman may ;
My people would constra i n me for to take
Another wife compla i ning day by day
And eke the pope for reconcilement s sake
Co n e nte th as I well can undertake
And truly thus much will I freely say
My future wife is hastening on her way
,
’
,
s
,
,
,
,
.
Be strong of heart anon vacate her place ;
A for the dower that ye brought to me
Receive it back I grant it of my grace
”
Return now to your father s house quoth he
No man can always know prosperity
W ith even heart I counsel yo u to bear
This stroke o f fortun or unlooked for care
,
s
,
,
’
,
e
.
And h replied again in pat nce
”
My lord quoth he I know and knew alway
81
H ow that between your high magnificence
And my poor station no man can or may
Make due comparison ; let none ay nay
I ne er esteemed me of su fficient grade
To be your wife nor e en your chamber -maid
s
e
1e
s
,
,
,
s
.
’
’
.
,
And here where ye as lady bade me live
Here in the sight of God I we !! confess
,
,
,
74
,
5
Wherein I was o blissful wont to be ;
”
For since it pleaseth you my lord quoth h
Who whilom were my heart s and S pir i t s rest
That I shall go I go when seemeth best
s
s
,
,
’
e,
’
,
.
,
But when ye pro ffer me that dowry fair
I brought you first I bear i t well in mind
It was my wretched clothing poor and bare
The which for me were hard no w for to find !
O gracious God how gentle and how kind
Ye seemed to judge by loving speech and look
The day when ye Gri ld in marriage took
,
,
,
,
,
,
se
But sooth is said at least I find it true
For in ad earnest is it proved in me
L ove is not when tis old as when tis new
Yet truly lord fo no adversity
E en though I come to die it shall not be
That e er in word or work shall I repent
I gave you all my heart with true intent
,
,
s
’
,
,
,
,
’
’
r
.
,
’
,
’
.
My lord ye know that i n my father s place
Ye bade them strip me of my dress so rude
And clothe me there right nobly of your grace ;
I brought you nothing else as seemed you good
’
,
,
,
,
76
,
But faith and nakedness and maidenhood
And here again my clothing I restore
And eke my wedding ring f r evermore
,
-
o
,
.
The remnant of your jewels ready be
Within yo ur chambe r may I well maintain
”
Naked from out my father s house quoth h
I came and naked must return gain
To follow all your pleasure am I ain ;
But yet I hope i t be not your intent
That from your palace I all smockless went
,
’
s
,
e,
.
,
i
.
Wherefore in guerdon of my maidenhood
Which here I brought not hence again to bear
I pray vouchsafe to give me for my go od
E en such a smock as I was wont to wear
That I may clothe therewith the form of her
That was your wife ; and here I take my leave
”
Of you my own good lor d lest you I grieve
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
’
,
,
,
.
“t ho u
The smock quoth he
on thyb ac k dost wear
”
There be i t st i ll and bear i t forth with thee
But scarce could he aloud h i s w i ll declare
But went his way fo r sorrowing sympathy
Before the folk her clothes o ff-strippe th she
,
,
.
,
,
.
,
77
89 0
,
And i n her smock with head and foot all bare
Towards her father s house be gins to fare
,
,
’
.
The folk her follow weeping as they go
And c urse dame Fortune for the mischief done
But he no start i ng tear allowed to flow
And i n this trying t i me her words were none
Her father who these tidings heard anon
D oth curse the day and hour when nature s plan
Shaped h i m to breathe on earth as liv ing man
,
,
s
,
,
,
’
.
F or surely past all doubt this poor old man
Suspected lest her marr i age ill should prove
And ever deemed e en since i t first began
That when this lord had satisfied his love
Twould seem disparagement he thus should move
From h i gh estate o meanly to al i ght ;
Then would he cast her o ff as best he might
,
,
’
,
,
,
,
’
,
s
.
To meet his daughter h astily goes he
For he by no se o f folk d i scerned her near
And with her former dress as best m i ght be
H e covereth her w i th many a b i tter tear
But scarce could clothe her i n th i s humble gear
For rude the cloth was and of older date
By many days than when h changed her state
,
r
,
,
,
,
s
e
78
.
P ART
A NA G O
VI
S earl from far Bologna came
Whose name was spread abroad by more and less ; 9 40
And to the people s ears by common fame
Twas rumoured how a n w young marchioness
He with him brought with so great costl i ness
That never had been seen by human eye
So great array in all West L ombardy
’
,
’
’
e
,
,
,
.
The marquis who all this co ntrived and knew
Ere that the earl was come a message sent
To fetch this poor Griselda good and true ;
And she with humble heart and face content
With no high -swollen or ambitious bent
Came at his hest and on her knees she fell
And greeted him full reverently and well
,
,
,
,
,
,
.
81
,
quoth he my will i utterly
This maiden that shall wedded be to me
Rece i ved shall be to -morrow as royally
A possibly he in my house may be ;
And eke that every wight in his degree
Shall have his place i n serviceable wise
And pleasure high as best I can devise
G rise ld,
s
,
,
s
,
,
s
,
,
,
,
.
I have no woman o f sufl
ic i nt skill
The chambe rs to array in order due
A be st I wish and therefore at my will
Th i ne be the ordering of my household -crew ;
Thou knowest well of old what I would do
Though thine array be poor and ill to see
”
Yet do thy duty at the lea t quoth he
e
,
s
,
,
,
s
.
,
Not only lord am I full glad quoth h
To do your w i ll but I desire thereto
To serve you and to please in my degree
W ithout pretence and so shall ever do
Nor ever— whether weal or woe ensue
The Spirit in my constant heart shall cease
To love you best abo ve all love s increase
,
s
,
,
e,
,
,
.
’
,
.
And with that word the house sh gan
And tables for to t and beds to make
e
se
82
’
se t
right
,
F or like the changing moon ye wax and wane
Still full of idle talk not worth a grain ;
Your constancy is vain your doom unjust
A fool is he that in your pra i se would trust !
,
1 000
,
,
So spake the w i se with i n that c i ty s range
When all the folk were gazing up and down
And showed their gladness at this latest change
A mistress new to welcome to their town
No more of this parade I here s t down
But to Griselda s fate myself address
To tell her patience and her business
’
,
,
.
e
’
,
.
Full busy was G rise ld in everything
That most concerned the coming glad event
1 01 0
Nowise ashamed of her apparelling
Though coarse indeed and in some measure rent ;
But with glad cheer towards the gate she went
With other folk the marchioness to greet ;
And a fter that doth all her tasks complete
,
,
.
With such glad cheer his guests she well rece i veth
Each guest exactly in his due degree
That no one there default or lack perceiveth
But still they wonder who this well may be
,
34
,
That men in such a poor apparel see
Yet showing such respect and reverence ;
And worthily they praise her providence
1 02 0
,
.
And all this while was h
wholly bent
This maid and eke her brother to commend
With all her heart and most benign intent
So well that no one could her praise amend
But at t h last when all the nobles wend
To it at meat lord Walter gan to call
G ri ld as h was busied in his hall
s
e so
,
.
e
,
’
s
,
se
,
e
s
.
quoth he as if twere in his play
1 0 0
3
H o w seems my new wi fe s beauty now to thee
”
Right well my lord quoth h
for sooth to say
A fairer wife I never aw than h
I pray God grant her full prosperity !
And o I hope that He to you will send
Enough contentment till your li fe shall end
G rise ld,
’
,
,
’
,
,
s
e
s
s
e.
,
s
.
,
One thing I warn you and entreat to shun
That ye ne er harass with tormenting ways
This tender maid as ye have sometimes done ;
For he was fostered in her younger days
More tenderly ; and as my fear betrays
,
’
,
s
,
,
35
She could not well adversity endure
L i ke one brought up amongst the humblest poor
And when this Walter saw her pat ence
Her mildness and no discontent at all
Though he to her o oft had done o ffence
And sh as firm and constant as a wall
P reserving still her innocence withal
This sturdy marquis did his heart address
To rue upon her wi fely teadfastness
i
,
,
,
s
e
,
,
,
s
.
This i s enough Gr i selda mine quoth he
Be now no more aghast or sore dismaye d
I have thy faith and thy b e mgm ty
As great as e er wa woman s well assaye d
In high estate or m iserably arrayed
Now know I dearest wi fe thy steadfastness
And took her in his arms with many a k iss
,
,
,
,
’
’
s
,
,
.
,
,
.
,
And she for wonder took thereof no heed
She heard no single word of all he spake
She seemed as starting from a S leep indeed
Till from her great amazement she did wake
G ri ld by Him that died for sinners sake
“
Save thee quoth he none other wi fe I have
Nor ever had as God my soul may save !
,
,
,
,
.
se
’
,
,
,
,
,
86
,
.
Gramercy lord ! I render thanks quoth h
That ye have saved for me my children dear
Now reck I never to be dead right here
Since both your love and grace my love commend
I heed not death nor when my ghost shall wend
,
e,
s
,
,
,
children young and clear my chief delight !
Your woeful mother feared assuredly
Some cruel hound or beast of savage might
Had eaten you ! But God for clemency
And your benignant father tenderly
Have kept you safe
No more could he express
But sank upon the ground fo r joy s excess
O
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
s
,
’
.
And in her swoon o firmly holdeth she
Her children twain within her close embrace
That with great sle i ght and mu ch dexter i ty
The children from her arms did they displace
O h many a tear on many a p i tying face
Ran down of them that watch ful stood beside ;
And scarce around her could they long abide
s
,
.
,
.
Now Walter soothes her and her grief ab ate th
She r th up all bashful from the ground
And every wight with lov i ng care await th
,
lse
,
,
e
88
I 1 00
Till she her wonted constancy hath found
And Walter cloth in kindness o abound
That it wa joyous to behold th e cheer
Between the twain in reconcilement dear
1 1 1 0
.
s
s
.
,
Her noble ladies soon as e er they may
Have taken her and t w rd her chamber gone
And stripped her clear o f all her coarse array
And in a cloth of gold that brightly shone
Wearing a crown with many a sparkling stone
Upon her head they into hall her brought
And honoured her a fully as they ought
’
,
,
o
,
’
s
,
,
,
,
,
s
.
Thus hath this piteous day a blissful end ;
For every man and woman do their might
This day in mirth and revel for to spend
Till in the welkin shone the stars so bright ;
For yet more sumptuous in all men s sight
Was this high feast and richer in array
Than wa the revel on her wedding -day
,
’
,
,
s
.
Full many a year in high prosperity
Surv i ve these two with peace and concord
And bliss fully his daughter married he
Unto a lord one of the worthiest
,
,
89
1 1 2 0
In Italy ; and then in peace and rest
H is wife s poor father at hi court he keepeth
Until the soul out o f his body creepeth
,
’
s
,
.
His so n succeeds in h i s inher i tance
In rest and peace after hi father s day
And fortunate was he i n marriage -chance
Yet put he not his wife in great assay
This world is not o strong— let none say nay
A once it wa in days of olden faith
And therefore hearken what mine author saith
’
s
,
,
.
s
s
s
.
This tale is told— not that men s wives ere should
Griselda follow in humility
For that must not be suffere d though they would
But rather that each w i ght in h i s degree
S hould be as constant in adversity
As was G ri ld and therefore P etrarch writeth
This story which w i th high style he ndite th
’
,
,
se
e
,
.
since a woman was so pat ent
Unto a mortal man much more we ought
To take w i th pat ience all that God hath sent ;
For ti H i r i ght to prove the thing He wrought
But yet He tempteth none that He hath bought
F or
i
,
’
s
s
,
,
90
CH AU C E R S
’
E NVO Y
is dead and eke her pat e nc
And both alike are bur i ed cold and pale
And hence I cry in open audience
No wedded man should boldly thus assail
His spouse s patience in the hOp to find
Grisel da s ; for he certainly will fail
G rise ld
1
,
e,
,
,
,
’
e
,
’
.
O noble wives well blessed with providence
Bid no humility your tongue to nail
L t never clerk have cause or diligence
To write of you o marvellous a tale
As of Griselda patient mild and kind
L est L ean -Cow swallow you in her entr a
il
,
,
e
s
,
,
,
,
ike Echo keep no silent difl
ide nc
But always answering back be prompt to rail
Be ne er deluded by your innocence
But sharply let your tyranny prevail
Imprint full well this lesson in your mind
For profit such as may your hearts regale
L
e,
,
,
,
’
,
.
,
,
.
92
Ye arch -wives stand upon your own defence
Since ye are strong a is a mighty whale
Nor su ffer men to do the least o ffence
And slender wives that i n the fight are frail
Be eager a a tiger is in Ind
And clatter like a m i ll -wheel or a flail
,
,
s
.
,
,
s
,
1 2 00
.
Ne er stand in dread nor show them reverence
For though thy husband should be armed in mail
The arrows of thy bitter eloquence
Shall through his breast or helmet work him bale
In jealousy en deavour him to bind
And thou shalt make him cower as cloth a qua i l
’
,
,
,
.
If thou be fair be well in evidence ;
D isplay thy visage and thy garments trail
If ugly spare not to incur e xp nce
And get thee friends by bidding men all hail 1 2 1 0
Be light of mien as linden -leaves n wmd
And let him weep and wring his hands and wail
,
,
e
,
,
i
,
,
,
93
And though a man should never dread to di
Yet still we
by reason questionless
That Idleness i rotten lethargy
Whereof there never comes a rich increase
S loth holds her in a leash without release
Merely to sleep and eat and drink again
D evouring all that others toils obtain
e,
se e
,
,
s
,
,
,
’
.
And hence to put away such i dleness
That cause i o f o great confusi on
I here have done my faithful business
To trace the L egend in translati on
That tells thy glorious life and passi on
Thou w i th thy garland wrought of rose and lily
Thee mean I maid and martyr Saint Cec ily
,
,
s
s
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
I nv ocation
to
Ma y
r
.
On thee that art the flower of virgins all
O f whom St Bernard wa so fain to write
On thee at this beginning first I call
Thou comfort of us wretches bid m endi re
Thy m aiden s death who by her virtues might
Won li fe eternal and the fiend subdued
As from her story men may well conclude
,
,
s
.
,
,
,
’
,
’
’
,
,
”
,
,
.
98
,
Think how the Canaanitish woman said
That dogs eat sometimes o f the fragments small
That from their master s table haply fall ;
And though that I unworthy o n o f Eve
Be sinful yet accept what I believe
,
’
s
,
,
.
,
And since that faith divorced from works is dead
So to do rightly give me wit and space
That I escape the land of darkness dread
O thou that art o fair and full o f grace
Mine advocate be in that highest place
Where without end the angels sing hosanna
Thou Christ s sweet mother daughter clear o f Anna !
,
,
,
,
s
,
,
,
’
,
And by thy rays my soul in prison light
That troubled is by that c o ntagid
The body brings and by the weighty might
Of earthly lust and false affecti on
0 port of refuge O salvat idn
O f them that are in sorrow and distress
Now help fo r to my task I me address
,
n
,
,
,
.
,
Yet pray I you that read the tale I write
F orgive me though I ta k e no diligence
This sacred story subtly to endite
,
I OO
,
For here I keep to both the words and sense
O f him that in the Saint s dear reverence
The story wrote her L egend following still
And pray you mend m y writing ye that will
’
,
,
,
,
,
I n terpretati on
f
o
tb e n ame
Jacob us Januensis, in
Cecilia,
tb
.
i
ven b
y
g
as
c Golden L egend
.
First will I you the name f Saint Cec ily
Expound a men may in her L egend
;
In English it expresses heaven s lily
For her pure chasteness o f virginity ;
Or S ince h whiteness had of purity
Greenness of conscience and of holy name
The savour sweet— hence lily was her name
o
se e
s
,
’
’
,
,
s
,
e
,
,
‘
O r el e Cecilia means path of the blind
Since she ex ample was by c aut o n ng
O r else Cecilia as I written find
Is made up by a kind of fashioning
Of heaven and L eah where in figuring
The heaven i t for thought of holiness
And L eah fo r her lasting business
.
’
s
,
1
1
,
,
,
,
,
s se
,
.
1 01
f
,
i
r ar
Cecilia also may explained be here
D evoid o f blindness for her glorious light
O f sapience and for her virtues clear
Or else again this maiden s name so bright
Of heaven and l comes because by right
Men well her might the heaven of people call
Example br i ght of prudent actions all
’
,
,
’
,
,
‘
eos
,
,
,
.
For l people means we English ay ;
And e en as men may i n the heavens e
The sun and moon and stars in every way
So by the sp i r i t i n this maiden free
Men aw in fa i th her magnan m ty
And eke the brightness of her sapience
And of her sundry works the excellence
eos
s
,
’
s e
,
,
,
s
i
i
,
,
.
And even a p hilosophers do write
That h av n i swift and round and glows with
Right so this fair Cec i lia the white
Wa swift and busy in her actions meet
And in good perseverance round complete
And glowed in works of charity full bright
Now have I well declared her name aright
s
e
’
s
,
s
,
,
,
.
.
1 02
,
And while the organ played w i th sweet accord
To God alone within her heart sang he
My soul and eke my body keep 0 L ord
”
Unblemished lest that I con founded be
And for H is sake that died upon the tree
S h every third or second day would fast
And in her orisons long hours h passed
,
s
,
,
.
,
,
,
e
,
s
e
.
The night came to her chamber is sh gone
Her husband as by custom following near ;
And privily sh said to h im anon
0 sweet and well -belove d S pouse o dear
There is a secret if ye would it hear
Which that right fain would I unto you ay
”
If first ye swear ye will me not betray
e
,
,
,
,
e
s
,
,
,
s
,
.
Valerian thereupon did truly swear
That n no case whate er the chance m ight be
Her secret would he ment i on anywhere ;
And then at last unto her spouse said he
I have an angel which that loveth me
And with great love whene er I wake or sleep
Stands ever near my body for to keep
,
i
’
,
,
s
,
’
,
,
,
.
And if that he perceiveth in your thought
That ye draw near me i n unchastity
,
1 04
He right anon will slay yo u doubt it not
A d in your youth ye suddenly will die
But if ye dwell with me in purity
Then will he in your wel fare take delight
And S how you all his joy and glory bright
,
,
n
.
,
,
.
Valerian by the grace o f God o ntro ll d
Thus answered her
If I may trust to thee
L t me that angel see and him b ehold ;
And if that this a very angel be
Then will I do as thou x ho rt t me
But if thou love another man forsooth
E en w i th this very sword I S lay you both
’
c
,
e
,
,
,
e
es
,
,
’
.
Cec ilia straightway answered in th i s wise
If so you list the angel shall ye e
If ye believe in Christ and you baptise
”
Go forth upon the Appian Way quoth sh
P roceeding fro m the city miles but three ;
And to the simple folk that nigh there dwell
Repeat the message that I no w shall tell
se
,
,
.
,
e,
,
.
Tell them that I Cecilia you have sent
To meet the sainted Urban good and old
For secret reasons and with good i ntent
,
,
,
.
1 05
,
,
And when that ye Saint Urban there behold
Tell him the secret I to you have told
And when from in he shall have purged your
Then shall ye see that angel ere ye part
,
s
.
,
Valerian to th appointed place is gone
And even as her words his steps did g uide
He found this saintly Urban old anon
Who near the burial -place of saints did hide
And he anon impatient long to bide
His message gave ; and when he had it told
For joy Saint Urban did his hands uphold
’
,
,
,
,
,
.
,
,
.
The tears he from his streaming eyes let fall
”
quoth he
A lmighty L ord 0 Jesu Christ
Sower of counsel S hepherd of us all
The fruit of that same seed of chastity
Thou sowedst i n Cecilia take to Thee !
L o like a busy bee and gu i leless all
Thee serves Cecilia like a faithful thrall
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
.
,
For that same husband who so recently
Seemed like a lion fierce h sendeth here
As meek as ever yet was lamb to Thee !
And with that word anon did there appear
,
,
s
e
,
,
,
1 06
,
He gave the first o f them and after lo
The other on Valerian did bestow
,
!
,
.
With bodies pure and uncorrupted thought
quoth he
P reserve these never -fading crowns
From P aradise to yo u I these have brought
And nevermore shall they all withered be
Or lose their heavenly fragrance trust ye me
And no man shall behold them w i th his eye
Save he be chaste and hate all villainy
,
.
,
,
,
,
.
And thou Valerian for that thou soon
A
nt d t to good counsel prudently
Say what thee list and thou shalt have thy boon
Valerian said
A brother dear have I
I no man living to my heart o nigh
I pray you that my brother may have grace
”
To know the truth as I do i n this place
sse
e
so
,
,
s
,
,
s
s
.
.
,
.
,
The angel said
God grant th thy request ;
Ye both with palms of martyrdom arrayed
”
Shall come hereafter to H i bliss ful feast
Therewith T ib urc his brother entrance made
And smelt what fragrance did the place pervade
The which these roses and these lilies cast
W i thin h i s heart he gan to wonder fast
e
,
,
s
.
e
,
.
,
1 08
,
And said
I wonder this time o f the year
Whence all this fragrance sweet ariseth
For rose and lily seem to mingle here
A nd though I held them in my hands I trow
The fragrance might in me no deeper go
The savour sweet that in my heart I find
Hath wholly changed me to another kind
,
,
so
.
,
,
.
.
Valerian said
Two garlands here have we
Snow white and rosy red that shine full cle ar
But which thine eyes no virtue have to
;
And as their scent hath reached thee by my prayer
So shalt thou yet behold them brother dear
If casting sloth aside thou wilt in sooth
”
Believe aright and kno w the very truth
,
-
,
,
se e
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
.
,
replied
No w say st thou this to me
”
In sooth or in a dream ! H o w hear I this !
”
In dreams replied Valerian dwelt have we
My brother till this hour ; and all amiss
But now in truth at last our dwelling is
”
“
How k no w t thou this quoth he and in what way
Valerian ans wered
This I soon shall say
T ib urc e
’
,
,
,
.
,
,
.
,
’
s
,
,
.
God s angel hath the living truth me taught
A thou shalt e if thou with pure disdain
’
s
se ,
1 09
,
Renounce thine idols ; else thy hope is naught
And
all
the
wonder
of
these
garlands
twain
(
Saint Ambrose in his preface doth explain
In solemn wise this noble doctor dear
Commendeth it and saith as ye shall hear
,
,
.
.
,
The palm of martyrdom for to receive
Cecilia filled with God s most holy gift
The world and eke her chamber thought to leave ;
W itness T ib urc e and Valerian shrift
To whom God i n H is bounty deigned to shift
Two garlands formed of sweetest flowers that blow
And made His angel thus the crowns bestow
2 80
,
’
,
,
’
’
s
s
,
,
,
,
,
This maid hath bro ught these men to bl i ss above ;
Whereby the world perceived how great the gain
D evotion to such chastity to love )
Then did Cecilia Show him clear and plain
That idols are i ndeed but things in vain
For dumb they ar and deaf and naught perceive ;
And charged him all his idols vain to leave
,
.
,
e
,
,
.
Who knoweth not th i s thing a be ast he is
Replied T ib urce unless I dare to lie
And she gan kiss his breast on hearing this
,
,
,
.
,
1 1 0
,
Men would consume him in a fire o red
If he were found or men him might espy
And we sho uld burn to bear him company
s
,
,
,
And while we to divinity aspire
That in high heaven is hid o secretly
We in this world should be consumed with fire
To whom Cecilia answered hardily
Men might indeed dread well and reasonably
This earthly life to lose my own dear brother
I f this alone were life without another
s
,
,
,
,
,
.
A better life is in another place
That never shall be lost— then fear thou not
Which God s Son hath revealed to us by grace 3 2 5
The Father s Son Who everything hath wrought
And all that made were by creative thought
The Ghost that from the F ather did proceed
Hath filled with everlasting souls indeed
’
,
’
,
,
,
.
By miracle and doctrine God s dear Son
W hen in this world H e dwelt informed us here
”
O f other life that elsewhere may be won
0 S ister dear
To whom replied T ib urce
D idst thou not say but now w i th voice sincere
’
,
,
.
,
,
,
1 1 2
,
There is but
God L ord in soothfastness
And now of tb Gods dost the names express !
o ne
,
,
ree
That shall I S ho w thee said h ere I go
E en a a man hath sapiences three
Remembrance mind and intellect e en
W i thin one Being of divinity
Three several persons may there right well be
Therewith full busily he gan to preach
Of Christ s first coming and His pains to teach
s
,
’
“
e,
s
.
,
’
,
,
,
so
.
s
’
,
And many tokens o f His suffering
How in man s flesh He did Himself enfold
A full remission to mankind to bring
So closely bound in sins and sorrows cold
All this in order to Tib urc he told
And after this Tib urc e w i th good intent
To Urban with Valerian straight way went
,
’
,
.
e s
.
,
,
,
,
35
,
0
Who gave God thanks and with glad heart and light
He christened him and made him in that place
All perfect in hi doctrine God s own knight
And after this T ib urc e obtained such grace
That every day he saw in time and space
God s holy angel yea and every boon
He asked of God was granted him fii ll soon
,
’
s
.
,
,
,
,
’
,
.
1 1
3
F ull ha rd it were in order to narrate
How many wonders Jesus for them wrought
But at the last all shortly to relate
The sergeants of the town of Rome them sought
And them before A lm ac hius prefect brought
Who questioned them and learnt their whole intent
And to the image o f great Jove them sent
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
And said
Who doth his sacri fice withhold
”
Swap o ff h i s head ! This sentence give I here
Anon these martyrs twain ( a here is told )
By Max i mus an o ff cer held clear
The prefect registrar h i m ever near
Were seized ; and when he forth the saints did l ead
Himself for pity s sake did weep i ndeed
6
3 5
,
.
s
i
,
’
s
,
,
,
,
,
3
0
7
’
,
.
,
When Max i mus had heard their holy lore
He from the torturers straightway gat h i m leave
And took them to his home nor tarried more
And by their preach i ng ere that it was eve
They quickly from the torturers did reave
And Maximus and from h i s folk each one
The heathen fa i th — to trust in God alone
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
.
Cec i lia came when i t was wholly night
W i th priests who chr i stened them with water clear
,
,
,
1 1
4
.
8
0
3
Mid angels full f clearness and o f light
And by his words converted many a wight
For which A lm ac hiu made him beaten be
With whip of lead till li fe from him did flee
o
.
s
,
Cecilia came and buried him ano n
By Tib u ce and Valerian stealthily
Within her burying -place be neath a stone
And after did A lmac hiu hastily
Command hi servants bring him openly
Cecilia that he m ight before his eyes
To Jove burn incense and do sacrifice
,
.
.
r
,
,
,
.
s
s
s
,
.
But they converted by her holy lore
F ull sorely wept and had full confidence
In all she sai d still crying more and more
Christ Son o f God without a di fference
I Very God in our experience
Who hath o good a servant ever nigh ;
This w i th one voice proclaim we though we
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
S
,
,
,
s
,
on hearing this b efall
Bade fetch Cecilia that he might her
;
And this wa his enquiry first of all
What kind o f woman art thou ! questioned he
A lm ac hlus,
,
se e
,
s
,
1 1
6
.
I am a gentlewoman born q uoth S h
”
“
I a k quoth he although it may thee grieve
O f t hy religi o n — what dost thou believe i
e.
,
s
,
,
,
Ye have begun your question foolishly
two answers would ye thus include
! uoth h
”
In one demand y a k unlearnedly
A lm ac hiu answered her S imilitude
From whence hath come thine answering o rude !
”
From whence ! quoth he when thus h wa arraigne d
”
O f upright conscience and of faith un feigned
,
s
e,
e
s
.
s
,
s
s
s e
,
s
,
.
answered
Takest thou no heed 4 3 5
How great my power
Whereto she answered this
”
Your might quoth h
full little is to dread ;
For every mortal s proud dominion is
But like a bladder full of wind y-wis
For with a needle S point howe er men blow
”
Can all the boast o f it be laid full low
A lm ac hius
s
,
e,
’
,
,
’
’
,
,
.
Full wrongfully b gann t thou quoth he
And still in wrong dost make continuance ;
How k no w st thou not our mighty princes free
Have thus commanded and made ordinance
That every Christian wight Shall find mischance
e
es
,
’
1 1
7
Unless he doth his Christendom belie
And have free pardon if he it deny !
,
Thus err your princes as your senate doth
Cecilia said
and with perverted sense
Ye make us guilty speaking not the sooth ;
For ye who recognise our innocence
Because in truth we o ffer reverence
To Christ and since we bear the Chr i sti an name
Ye put on us a crime and eke a blame
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
.
,
But we that know that Name to be o true
And virtuous can never it betray ;
A lm ac h iu answered
Choose now one of two
D o sacrifice or Christendom withsay
That now thou may st escape from death that way
Whereat the holy blissful beauteous maid
Began to laugh and to the pre fect said
s
,
,
s
,
,
’
.
,
O judge confused in thy simplicity
Wouldst thou I S hould deny my innocence
”
And o become a wicked one ! quoth he
Lo
he dissembles here in audience
He stares and dotes in such an in ference !
To whom A lmac hiu said
Unhappy wretch
P erceivest not how far my might can stretch !
,
,
s
S
,
,
s
1 1
8
,
,
Cecilia answered
Foolish judge and vain
Thou naught hast uttered since tho u spak t to me
W herein I might not all thy folly
And that in every wise tho u dost remain
A pre fect ignorant a justice vain
,
’
s
se e
,
There lacketh nothing to thine outer eyes
To prove thee blind for what perceive we all
To be but stone as every one espies
That very stone a god thou wilt it call
I pray thee let thy hand upon it fall
And feel it well ; and stone thou shalt it find
Since thou canst e e not with thine eyes o blind
,
,
,
,
,
,
s
s
It is but shameful that the people dare
Thus scorn and laugh at thy simplicity ;
For commonly men know well everywhere
That mighty God i in the heaven on high
And all the e images thou may t espy
Can thee or e en themselves b ut little speed
They are not worth a mite in very deed !
,
s
’
s
s
,
,
’
.
,
These words and others like to these aid h ;
But he gre w wroth and bade they should her lead
Home to her hou e “ and in her house quoth he
s
s
e
,
s
,
1 2 0
,
With red flames burn her in h r bath with speed !
And as he bade right o wa done indeed
For in a bath they fast enclosed the mai d
And night and day much fire beneath it laid
e
,
s
,
”
s
,
.
Throughout the night and following day again
For all the fire and all the bath s great heat
She sat all cold and felt no harm or pain ;
It caused her not a single drop to s weat
But in that bath her days She must complete
For he the prefect with malign intent
To slay her in the bath a headsman sent
,
’
,
,
.
.
,
,
,
.
Three strokes upon her neck he smote full true
This headsman ; yet coul d he by ne er a chance
P revai l to smite her slender nec k in two
A d ince there was that time an ordinance
That no man should his heading -S word advance
To strike a four th stroke whether soft or sore
This executioner durst do no more
,
’
,
,
.
n
,
s
,
,
,
,
.
But half-dead with her neck sore smitten there
He left her lying o and went hi way
The Christian folk which that about her were
With sheets the martyr blood did t hence convey
,
,
s
s
,
,
.
,
’
s
1 2 1
.
5 5
1
Three days S he in this torture lingering lay
And never ceased the holy faith to teach
To those he fostered h survived to preach
s
,
s
e
.
To them he gave her wealth and everything
Committing them to good Saint Urban s care
And said
For this I prayed the heavenly
My life fo r three days respite yet to spare
To recommend to you ere hence I fare
These souls and pray you here to undertake
”
Of this my house a lasting church to make
s
,
’
,
’
,
,
,
.
Saint Urban with his deacons secretly
The body fetched and buried it by night
Amongst his other saints full honourably
Her house became Cecilia church aright
S aint Urban hallowed it as best he mi ght
Where Christians to this day with service true
To Christ and to H is Saints give honour due
,
.
’
s
.
,
,
,
.
H ere is
ded tb e S econd Nun
en
1 2 2
’
s
Tale
.
,
H ERE
is a canon o f religious S ect
Amongst u who would soon a town infect
Though it as great were as wa Nineveh
Rome Alexandria Troy or some such three
H i sleights and endless ways o f subtleness
Co uld no man tell in full or wr i te I guess
E en though he were to live a thousandth year
None in deceit could ever prove hi peer
For in h i terms of speech he s could wind
And make proposals in so ly a kind
When need was to converse with any wight
That he anon would make him dote outright
U nless he were a fiend a he too i
Full many a man hath he beguiled ere th i s
And w ill again if he may live awhile
And yet men r i de and walk full many a mile
s,
s
,
,
,
.
,
s
,
,
,
’
s
s
.
o
,
s
,
!
,
,
,
s.
s
,
,
.
1 2
5
,
T0 seek him out and his acquaintance gain
Not knowing well how falsely he can feign
And if you list to give me audience
Ye soon shall hear thereof some evidence
,
,
.
,
.
Ye canons worthy reverend and meek
Suppose not that against your house I speak
Although my tale shall of a canon be
In every order some we w i cked see ;
And God forbid that all your company
For one man s folly should be grieved by me
To S lander you is nowise my intent
But only to reprove deceit I meant
Th i s story is not only told for you
1 0 00
But eke for others well ye kno w tis true
Th at though t h apostles numbered twelve alway
No one but Judas did our L ord betray
Then why sh o uld all the residue have blame
That guiltless were ! Of you I ay the same
Save only this if ye will list to me
If any Judas in your convent b e
Remove him thence betimes ( my counsel hear )
If ye of future shame or loss have fear
And be on no account displeased I pray
1 01 0
But i n this matter hearken what I say
,
,
,
.
’
.
,
.
,
’
,
’
,
,
.
s
,
.
,
,
,
.
,
.
1 2
6
He came and gave the priest hi mark again
Whereo f the priest was wondrous glad and fain
s
,
.
1 03
It ne er a whit quoth he can trouble
To lend a man a mark or two or three
Or what o were in my possessi on
When he o true is of conditi on
That in no wise he fails to keep his day
To such a man I never can ay nay
“
’
,
,
,
,
,
s
,
s
,
s
.
What quoth the canon should I prove untrue
Nay that full surely would be something new
Truth is a th i ng that I shall ever keep
Until that day whereon I have to creep
Within my grave ; untruth may God forbid
Believe this surely a ye would your creed !
God thank I be it said at fitting tide
That never yet was man dissatisfied
That gold or silver for m y use he lent
For falsehood in my heart I never meant
”
And ir quoth he to speak in secrecy
Since ye o friendly have appeared to me
And shown to me such kindliness of heart
Your courteous deed to recompense in part
Now w i l l I show you if yo u please to hear
,
,
,
s
,
,
,
.
s
,
,
,
s
,
,
,
,
,
1 2
8
5
And make to you the hidden secret clear
How great i in philosophy my skill
No w take good heed and watch me if ye
P erform a marvellous deed before I go
s
,
,
.
,
”
Yea ! quoth the priest and will ye sir
I Pray you b y St Mary ! let me see !
,
,
,
a
do so
.
,
At your commandment be it certainly
Replied the canon ; God forbid me feign
,
,
how th i s thief could pro ffer service
For truly proffered service seeming fair
Yet stinketh as the wise of old declare
And this full qu i ckly w i ll I ver i fy
In this false canon root of treachery
That ever takes delight and happiness
Such fiendish purposes his heart impress
In seeking g o od men to despair to bring
God keep us from his false di simuling
Lo !
,
,
,
.
,
,
,
s
The pr i est but little knew with whom he dealt
No warning o f approaching harm he felt
O foolish priest
innocent of mind
H w soon shall avar i ce thine eyesight blin d !
.
,
so
,
o
1 2
9
O graceless man how blind is thy conceit !
H o w unaware art thou of that deceit
This subtle fox doth meditate to thee !
H i wily snares thou k no w t not how to flee
Wherefore to come to the conclusi on
Referring to thy great confus i on
Unhappy man ! I must not now omit
To tel l thy folly and thy want of wit
And eke the falsehood of that other wretch
A s far as can my sk i ll in speech outstretch
’
s
s
.
,
,
,
,
.
This canon was my master would ye ween !
Good host in faith and by the he a n great queen
It was another canon and not he
1 09 0
Who knew a hundred fold more subtlety
H e hath betrayed good folks full many a time
Of such deceit it irk th me to rhyme
For ever of h i s falsehood when I speak
For shame of him comes redness to my cheek 1 0 9 5
O r let me ay my cheeks be gin to glow
For redness have I none r i ght well I know
In all my face ; o oft have fumes diverse
Of metals as ye heard me first rehearse
Consumed and wasted all my ruddiness
1 1 00
Now mark this wily canon s cursedness
,
,
v
,
,
’
’
s
,
,
e
.
,
,
,
s
,
,
,
,
s
,
,
.
’
1
30
For ye shall
here by experience
H ow I this quicksilver will mortify
E en in your very sight without a lie
And make it silver e en as good and fine
As may b e any i n your purse or mine
Or e en elsewhere and make it m alle zib le ;
Or else cons i der me as false unable
Amongst goo d folks for ever to appear
I have a powder here that cost me dear
S hall make all good for it i s cause of all
Such sk i lful working as S hall here befall
Send out your man and let h i m stand w i thout
And shut the door while thus we go about
Our secret toil that no man may espy
W hilst we are working in philosophy
All as he bade fulfilled was out of doubt ;
This same good servant straightway gat him out
And thereupon hi master shut the door
And to the i r labour haste they as b efore
se e
,
,
’
,
,
’
,
,
’
,
,
,
,
,
.
,
,
,
,
.
,
s
,
.
,
The priest st i ll to the canon hearkening
Upon the fire set carefully the th ing
And blew the fire and busied h i m full fast
Then i n the cruc i ble the canon cast
A powder — nay I know not what it was
,
,
,
,
,
,
1
32
.
,
Some pounded substance either chalk or glass
O r somewhat else that was not worth a fl
y
Wherewith to blind the priest ; and bade him hie
To place the coals together well above
”
The crucible
In token o f my love
Exclaimed the canon shall thine own hands two
P erform the mighty feat we have to do
1 1
,
,
,
.
,
,
.
55
I thank thee quoth the priest and felt full glad
And placed the coals e en as the canon bade
And whilst he busy wa that fi ndly wretch
That canon false— the foul fiend hence him fetch
Out o f his bosom took a beechen coal
Wherein full cra ftily was made a hole
In which of silver filings had been pilt
An ounce and a fter had the hole been shut
And stopped with wax to keep the filings there
And unders tand that this contrivance rare
Was not made then but had be en made before
And other false things shall I tell of more
Herea fterward that with him he had brought ;
For ere he came to cosen him he thought
So d i d he ere their short acquaintance ceased 1 1 70
Till he had stripped him could he ne er desist
It irk th me whene er of him I speak
,
,
,
’
,
s,
e
,
,
,
.
,
,
.
,
,
.
,
.
’
,
e
.
’
1
33
Upon his falsehood would I vengeance wreak
If I kne w how but here he i and there
So variable he bides not anywhere
s
,
.
,
But now take heed sirs for the saints dear lo e
He took the coal whereof I poke above
And in his hand bestowed it secretly ;
And whilst the priest arranged o busily
The coals above as I ha e told ere this
The canon said
Go od friend ye do amiss
This is not ordered as it ought to be ;
”
But soon w ill I amend it all quoth he
Now let me meddle with it just a while
For I have pity on you by St Gile
Ye seem right hot I e well how ye S weat !
”
Here take a cloth and wipe away the wet
And while the priest was wiping thus his face
The canon took his coal to his disgrace
And laid it just above to middl ward
The crucible and blew well afterward
Unti l the coals began to burn full fast
’
,
v
,
s
,
s
v
,
,
,
.
,
,
,
,
,
.
se
.
,
,
,
,
e
,
,
,
.
Now quoth the canon give us drink at last
And soon shall all be well I undertake ;
Now it we down good merriment to m ake
,
,
,
,
s
.
,
1
34
,
Why S hould I tarry all the livelong day !
He took the chalk and shaped it as he might
To form an i ngot hear how great his sleight !
,
I ay he sl i ly took from out his sleeve
A piece of silver— woe may he receive
Which was but just a measured ounce by weight
Take heed how I hi cunning ways relate !
He shaped the mould in length and breadth about
To suit this secret piece without a doubt
So slily that the priest i t ne er espied ;
And in his S leeve once more did he it hide
Then from the crucible the silver drew
Wh i ch i n the mould right merrily he threw
And after in the water -vessel cast
When came the time and bade the pr i est full fast 1 2 3 5
See what is there ! P ut in thine hand and grope
There shalt thou find good silver as I hOp !
What by mine honour should there else be seen !
A plate o f silver s i lver is I ween
He put hi hand in and a piece uptook
Of silver fine ; and glad in heart and look
The priest was when he saw that it was
God s blessing and His Mother s with thee go
”
And blessings of all sai nts be thine he said
s
,
.
s
,
,
,
,
’
,
.
,
,
e
,
,
,
,
s
,
so
,
’
.
’
,
,
1
36
,
And be their maledictions on my head
Except ye will vouchsafe to S how to me
This noble science and it subtlety !
I will be yours in all that e er I may
s
’
quoth the canon will I make assay
The second time that ye may take good heed
And be expert i n this and in your need
May in my absence prove some other time
This precious lesson and this lore sublime
”
Take we another ounce he blithely said
Of quicksilver without a doubt or dread
And do therewith as ye have done ere this
”
With that which now to silver altered is
Ye t ,
,
,
,
,
,
,
.
,
,
,
,
.
This pr i est then b u i th him in all he can
To do whate er the canon cursed man
Commanded him and fast he blew the fire
To come to the result of his desire
And 1 0 ! this canon in the passing while
All ready stood his victim to beguile
And for pretence within his hand he bare
A hollow stick take heed now and beware
I t h end whereof an ounce and no whit more
Of silver filings placed was ( as be fore
s e
’
—
,
,
.
,
,
,
,
,
,
—
’
’
,
1
37
,
Was in the coal ) and closed with waxen lid
To keep the filings in their place well hid
And whilst the priest wa bu y there and here
Thi s canon with his stick anon drew near
Beside him and his powder cast he in
A erst he did — the devil out f hi skin
Him flay I pray to h a n to quite his greed ;
For ever was he false in thought and deed !
And w i th the stick the crucible beside
Wherein this false contrivance wa supplie d
H e sti rred the coals till all to melt began
The wax against the fire a every man
Save he a fool be knows it needs must do
And all that in the stick was downward drew
And in the crucible it quickly fell
,
,
s
.
s
,
,
s
o
e
,
v
s
’
,
,
,
s
,
,
s
,
,
,
,
.
Now s i rs ! why should ye better w i sh than well
W hen that the priest wa thus beguiled again
Supposing all wa true to speak it plain
So glad was he I cannot half express
How great his mirth was and his joy fulness
And to the canon proffered for the boon
”
Bo dy and goods
Yea quoth the canon soon
Though poor I be thou skilful shalt me find ; 1 2 9 0
I warn thee well that more remains behind
,
s
s
,
,
,
,
.
,
.
,
,
,
,
,
.
1
38
And in the pan conveyed it at the last
Of water putting next therein his hand
A nd in his sleeve as well ye understand
Ye heard me ay a s i lver plate had he
Which thence this cursed wretch dre w stealthily
The priest perceiving not hi artful plan
And left it in the bottom o f the pan ;
And in the water fumbled to and fro
And wondrous secretly upli fted lo
The copper piece unnoticed by the priest
And hid it ; then he caught him by the breast 1 3 2 5
And spake to him thus saying as in game
Stoop quickly down ; by he av n ye are to blame ;
Now help me friend as I did you before ;
P ut in your hand and
what gi ft s in store !
,
,
.
,
,
s
,
,
s
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
’
,
,
,
’
se e
The priest took up this S ilver plate anon
L e t u hence be gone
Then said the canon
With these three pieces that we thus have wrought
To ask some goldsmith if their worth be aught
For by my faith I would not for my hood
Suspect them aught but S i lver fine and good
”
And quickly shall their value tested be
s
.
,
,
,
,
,
.
Then to the goldsmith with these p ieces three
1
40
,
They went and put them to severe assay
By fire and hammer no man might say nay
But that they all were what they ought to be
,
.
This foolish pr i est who gladder now than he
Was never bird o blithe to hail the day
O r nightingale when comes the month of May
That was so fain full lustily to sing ;
No lady blither in her carolling
Or readier to discourse of love s alarms
No knight more eager for some deed of arms
To stand i n favour of his lady dear
Than was this pr i est this precious lore to hear
And to the canon spake and thus replied
For love of God that once for s i nners died
And as ye th i nk I may your grace deserve
What c o ste th this rece i pt ! Say what will serve
,
s
,
,
,
,
’
,
,
,
,
,
,
Now by our L ady dear it i s quoth he
I warn yo u well ; for save a friar and me
”
No one in England can such changes make
,
,
,
,
,
.
No matter ir quoth he
for God s dear sake
”
W hat shall I pay you ! Tell me all I pray
,
s
’
,
,
1
41
.
,
In truth quoth he full dear it i I S ay '
Sir at a word wilt thou this secret have
The price is forty pounds so God m save !
But for the kindness that ye showed before
In helping me ye S hould forsooth pay more
The priest the sum o f forty pounds anon
In nobles brought and gave them every one
To pay this canon for this dear receipt
Whose aim was solely to deceive and cheat
,
s,
,
,
,
e
,
,
,
.
,
,
,
,
.
Sir priest he said I ne er for praise would
But rather seek to k eep my skill close hid ;
And as ye love me keep it secret still
For if men kne w my subtlety and skill
I ween such envy would they S how to me
Because I know so much philosophy
I soon should die ; there were no other way
’
,
,
,
.
,
,
,
,
.
Now God forbi d quoth he what s this ye
For rather would I all my wealth expend
And otherwise may madness be my end
Than any such mischance should you befall
’
,
For your good will ir may ye S peed in all
The canon said I thank thee sir farewell
,
s
,
,
,
1
42
,
N OTE S
I
T H E P R IO R ESS S T A LE
.
.
Th i s Tale beg i s at l 6 43 of Group B or
the seco d roup of the Tales as arra ged i t he S ix-text
E d i t i o pub i h d by the Chaucer S oc i ety
T he first sta za
i s a free adaptat i o of the two first verses of the 8 th P sal m
headed D mi d mi
i our prayer -b O k
t
L
i e
’
n
1
6 43
n
.
.
1
n
,
n
s
n
n
e
n
.
n
o
1
65
Mary
1
.
ne ,
,
n us n os e r
o
L ily fi o w er
.
n
o
s.
The l i ly i s the sy m bol of the V i rg i
n
.
Chaucer had prev i ously wr i tte a poe m called
ABC
or a H ym to the V i rg i co nt a i i g a s i m i lar
com par i so of the V i rg i to the bur i g bush Just as
the bur i g bush was t co su med so d i d the v i rg i i ty
of Mary re m a i w i thout blem i sh
1
65 8
n
.
n
,
n
n n
n
n n
no
n
n
.
artly i m i tated fro m D a te P arad i so xxx iii
ig it i
La tua b
pur soccorre
A ch i d i m a da m a m olte fiat
L i bera m e te al dim
d
precorre
667 P
.
.
,
n
1
n n
n,
n
en
n
n
n
z
,
,
non
e
,
an
x45
ar
.
1
6
Chaucer has J w y i Jewry
a y tow s there was form erl y a Jewry or Jews
I
quarter U sury was form erly forb i dde ; a d the o ly
usurers were Jews Lo m bards or other fore i g ers
1
n
6 79 Je w is ll
n
m n
l y
co on
.
.
i e
I m ag e ;
.
n
1
1
n
7
.
.
old proverb
N i cholas
nn n
,
’
An
.
.
.
02
n
i m age of the V i rgi n by the way
an
.
n
n
e.
n
,
s i de as ofte see abroad
prayer beg i i g—
6 9 8 A br i ef Lat i
grat i a ple a ; fro m Luke i 8
,
.
n
n
,
695
e,
,
.
1
er
e
.
2
A
‘
A
ue Mar i a
,
.
good ch i ld i s soo taught
n
”
.
wh i lst st i ll a i fa t i s sa i d t o have
absta i ed fro m suc ki g W ed esdays d Fr i days
1
0
7 5
.
St
.
n
n
,
,
an
n
on
n
n
n
.
There are two hy m s be i i g w i th A lm
d mp t
m t
The refere ce i g 7 4 below suggests
that the
m ea t beg i s thus
A lm a
d m p t i m ater quae p uia cael i
”
t stella m ar i s
P orta m a es
d ti
further as to th i s i the P reface
S
1
70 8
n
o ri s
e
n
n
a e r.
o ne
n
re
1
a
re
2
n
or s
e
n
ee
nn n
,
er
,
e
, s uccurre ca
,
,
n
en
.
.
The popular feel i g a ga i st the Jews was the
extrem ely b i tt r eve i E gla d
1
74 9
n
.
e
n
,
n
n
1
774
The refere c i s to R
1
80 1
Lay
1
81 7
n e
.
.
l
ti i n
R achel,
.
/
rt ,
g
lay
n
n
on
ev.
.
xiv
.
h i s bac k ;
referr i g to Matt
n
n
.
1 1
.
4
.
old phrase
an
1
8
.
.
s t ory of H ugh of Li col a boy supposed to
hav b
urdered by the Jews i s r cord d by Matthe w f
P ar i s u der the date 1 5 5
1
Th e
ee n m
8 74
n
.
e
,
n
,
2
.
1
46
n,
e
e
o
That i s he d i ed sudde ly sla i by “ a
”
s i le t th i ef a m ed D eath who had sla i m a y thousa ds
rece tly dur i g a pest i le ce
6 73
M urdered
.
n
,
n
n
n
n
,
n
,
n
,
n
,
.
n
n
.
each of us by hold i g up our ha ds i to k e of
truth swear fr i e dsh i p to each other M who had thus”
take
oath beca m e i the old phrase swor brothers
Le t
697
.
n
,
n
n
,
,
i nes
n
en
.
n an
n
n
n
,
.
are i m i tated fro m the first E legy of
a Lat i poet called M x im ia u H represe t s a ld
m a as k oc ki g w i th h i s st i c k upo
the earth e treat i g
h i s m other ( i the earth ) to let him i
d rece i ve h im
i to her boso m
72
9
L
.
—
7 7 73 3
2
n
a
n
n
n
n
n
n
n
O
n
,
n
n , an
e.
.
n
e
s.
.
N early
ev ry householder espec i ally a m o g the
poorer classes used t o have a large chest at the foot of h i s
bed i wh i ch he k ep t ( for safety) such perso al th i gs as
he valued espec i ally clothes The old m a was ready to
g i ve up all h i s worldly treasures for a ha i r -cloth to be used
as h i shroud
734
.
e
n
,
,
n
n
,
,
s
n
n
.
.
eady
as
the
old
i
s
t
o
d
i
e
a
a
t
ural
death
he
m
a
73 9
deprecates v i ole ce at the hands of the three r i oters
.
R
n
n
,
n
,
Thou
halt
r
i
se
up
before
t
he
hoary
head
743
”
L
ho ur th face of the old m
ev i t x i x 3
;
“
s
.
0.
77
78 1
go
an
e
no
.
The val u
e o f an
A
”
ll ud i g t o
n
E nglislz
t he
.
flo rin
p rov rb
was
L
e
2
.
6s
.
,
an d
.
8d
.
i ghtly co m e l i ghtly
,
.
m
O
t
Chaucer
calls
i
t
t
he
of
the
79 4
was t o hold three straws or b i ts of st i c k i h i s ha d ; d
whoever drew the shortest ( or the lo gest) drew the t
.
Tb e lot
“
cu
.
”
.
n
n
S ee I 8 02
.
.
1
48
ne
n
an
cu
.
rab i a phys i c i a of
great
wor
k
called
T
he
Boo
k
H
i
B okhara
8
37
9
of the Ca o i Med i c i e was fa m i l i arly called the Ca o
l(
I t was d i v i ded i to boo k s a d chapters ; a d each
”
m a mg
chapter was called a F
fro m the A rab i c f
“ a part ” of a
P
sc
i
e
ce
T
he
chapter
po
i
so
s
i
s
y
of Boo k IV
t
b
8 9 4 T he P ardo er s T ale co ta i s 74 m ore li
;
they have oth i g to do w i th the story They are ch e fly
co cer ed w i th eulog i es of h i s pardo s the value of wh i ch
i s d i sputed by the H ost A quarrel betwee these worth i s
e sues followed by a reco c i l i at i o
889
A
.
,
v i ce a or
nn
,
0— 1 0
A D.
.
n
n
i a
lb u -S
n
,
n
,
n
,
1
n
en
n
on
.
n
e
an n ,
e n,
n
n
n
n
n
.
n
n
s
.
n
A
an
.
’
n
.
u
ne s
n
n
.
n
n
n
n
n
,
I II
6
2
the
n
n
,
THE
.
,
C LE R K S TAL E
’
T o every th i g there i s a seaso n
7 P
N E
.
.
34
.
fe s so r
etrarch res i ded at
of I taly
.
A
.
E
n
.
e
n
.
n
i
.
ccl s iii
e
.
.
1
.
rqua two m i les fro m P adua
,
,
in
,
the ca o i st G i ova i d i Li g a o pro
of ca o law at B olog a ; he d i ed i 3 8 3
L
i i an ;
n
n
i
,
n
e.
n
n-
n
nn
n
n 1
n
,
.
etrarch s story i s preceded by a P roe m or I tro
duct i o wh i ch br i e fly descr i bed P i ed m o t ; espec i ally
S aluzzo wh i ch i s to the S of T ur i
43
.
’
P
n
n
n
,
,
n
.
Mo n te V i so
.
the descr i pt i o of the route fro m
Mo t D auph i to S aluzzo by the Col de Vi so i Murray s
Gu i de to S w i tzerla d a d P i ed m o t
47
.
n
.
n
The r i ver
stood
the old
.
on
n
,
n
49
S ee
,
n
n
’
n
.
passed P lace t i a ( P i ace za ) wh i ch
way ( here called E m i l i a ) a d
Po
JEm ilian
n
n
,
,
x49
n
afterwards Ferrara ; flow i g i to Ve et i a t err i tory ( here
called Ve i ce)
i e to eglect i s a phrase st i ll curre t
T l t lid
8
dig ifi d
i A m er i ca but i E gla d i s ofte re garded as
I t occurs t o ly here but i S hakespeare ; Tam S hrew
1 5
I t oduct i o
n
n
2
o
.
n
n
n
.
e
n
e,
s
n
.
n
no
n,
un
n
n
,
.
n
,
n
n
n
,
n r
.
n
e
.
,
.
.
bserv the use of y as a ter m of respect S uch
was the the custo m S i l 3 ; but observe th i
l 3 4 as sed to a i fer i or
R y lly ; because Gr i selda v i rtues were royal though
4
her b i rth was lowly
1 01
.
O
e
e
n
.
2
u
,
2 1
n
n
.
2 1
n
an
.
’
s
a
o
.
n
o
.
.
,
.
bserve the use here of the word tl ; i t i s a covert
sl i ght o ffered u der the prete ce of r port i g the op i i o
of others The u of ily occurs i ll 4 84 a d 48 9 Cf
l 49 4
48 3
O
.
ze e
n
,
se
.
e
n
n
t
n
n
n
n
.
.
.
.
t was t u co m m o at that date for g i rls to b
m arr i ed at t h
age of twelve The Wi fe of B ath was
m arr i ed at that age
could do as he l ik d i th i s
7 9 9 T hat i s a plou gh m a
m atter ; but a pr i ce has dut i es to h i s subj ects
6
73
I
.
n
no
n,
e
e
,
.
.
e
n
,
.
n
n
.
o ly dowry was her peasa t s cloth i g ; a d
eve th i s had bee take fro m her whe the m arqu i s too k
her to h i s palace L i es 8 5 — 8 6 a all Chaucer s w
85 0
H er
.
n
n
n
n
n
n
n
n
n
.
’
1
1
’
re
o
n
.
at i expressly o t es that Ja i la
had carefully preserved the clothes wh i ch Gr i selda had left
beh i d her
91 3
.
The or i g i al
n
n
n
n cu
.
9 6 5 Tl nn e
tko n
S o in
‘
as
L
n
.
.
.
Gr i selda i s
l 3
.
1 0
1
no
w a m ere m e n i al , to
.
1
50
be addressed
IV
1
NU N S
T H E S E C O ND
.
T h i s Tal beg i n s Group G
e
.
TALE
’
in
.
the S ix -t ext E d i t i o
n
.
3 Th i s l i e was i serted w i th refere ce to the fa m ous
Fre ch poem called The R o m au t of the R ose i wh i ch
the gate of the Garde of P leasure i s kept by a m a i de
called I dle ess
n
.
n
n
n
n
n
,
n
n
1
9
H er ,
.
n
.
i e I dle ess wh i ch was co s i dered as
.
n
.
bra ches of S loth
n
n
,
of the
o ne
.
Ber ard co m posed
of h i s m ost celebrated
wor k s e t i tled Mi
ho our of the V i rg i Mary
t i
30
St
.
36 5
1
o ne
n
,
-
n
.
.
x xx iii ll
.
We
s s us
.
n
n
1 —2 1
L eech , i
.
.
o,
in O ld E n
e c.
gl i sh was
,
.
phys i c i a
e
s un ,
n
,
a
,
m ay
n
’
n
n
n n
56
.
free tra slat i o fro m D a te s P arad i so Ca
to
”
Verg i e m adre figli del tuo F igli t
A
rem e m ber here that
of the fe m i i e ge der
52
n
n
n
es ,
n
as
;
in
Ti m o of Athe s v
n ,
n
.
4 84
.
.
the or i g has “ d é t of galle t
desert of gall or b i tter desert T here i s a ref re ce here to
the H b md ih b i tter ess a d to the a m e M ry
8
5
P lace of ga ll;
.
,
e
59
.
.
S ee
re
es r
.
n
Matt xv
.
.
2 2
n
,
n
.
e.
n
e
.
,
,
a
.
.
the tra slator Chaucer T he author
whe rev i s i g th i s tale a d putt i g i t i to the m outh of the
S eco d Nu
forgot to alter to d ght
62
.
S on qf E we , i
.
n
n
n
n,
Joach i
,
.
,
n
n
s on
,
n
au
er .
V i r i Mary was sa i d to be the daughter of
a
70 T h e
g n
m an d A n n
.
n
e.
.
1
5
2
The five sta zas i ll 8 5 9 really belo g to the
Lege d i tself as told i the or i gi al L at i ; a d a
the ce
tra slated
85
n
.
n
n
n
,
n
-1 1
.
n
n
n
n
re
n
.
everal of the Le ge ds of the S a i ts beg i w i th
r i d i culous etym olog i es W are here o ffered fi all be i g
wro g Caec i l i a i s properl y the f m of C a ili the
a m e of a R o m a fam i ly who cla i m ed desce t fro m C l
a
a c i e t I tal i a hero C a l probably a i ck am e i s
”
a d i m i ut i ve of m
bl i d a d m ea t so m ewhat bl i d
T he five ety m olog i es are o ly r i ght i so far as they refer to
m
They are as follows
C
li lili error for C li lili
the l i ly of heave l 8 7
( )
b
C
i
i
path
for
h
bl
i
d
l
t
;
( )
9
“ heave
C
l
m
a
d
where
ea
s
L
i
l
m
m
a d
;
( )
L i i s the L at i spell i g of Leah i the B ook of Ge es i s
A d L eah was co s i dered as the type of the act i ve l i fe as
R achael was of the co te m plat i ve l i fe ; 1 1 9 4 8
1
m
devo i d of bl i d ess ; because she was
( ) C it t
br i ght a d glor i ous ; l
“ heave
C
l
m
d
l
where
ea
s
l
m
m
( )
”
“
l
i s the A tt i c Greek A w i
peopl e ; 1 3
87
S
.
n
e
.
n
.
e
,
n
n
us,
ec
.
n
n
n
ve,
,
n
n
n
ae c u u s ,
n
n
n
e c u us ,
.
n
ea n
,
n
n
n
,
n
n
n
.
n
ea n
.
.
‘
ae
a
a,
ae
e
ae c : u a ,
n
ae u
c
a
n
a
2
.
n
n
.
n,
n
n
n
,
’
n
a e
ea re
n
1 00
.
an
ae u
-
.
,
n
e
.
’
n
a ec
.
.
cae u
n
n
n
unz ,
n
.
n
cae u
’
e os ,
’
e a:
s,
e
.
.
n,
e.
.
T h i s refers to the sc i e ce of
r
a
.
t i m e T he heave
or fi m m t appears to be rou d ; i t appears to revolve
arou d the earth w i th a very rap i d m ot i o thou gh i t i s
really the earth that sp i s ; a d i t was supposed to co s i st
of co ce tr i c spheres of wh i ch the m ost re m ote w the
”
e m pyrea or bur i g sphere the abode of a gels
1 1
4
1 0
.
n
en
o
ld
n
n
n,
n
n
1
n n
a in t
S
77
86
.
.
A D
An
.
2 2 2
e.
U
n
.
,
.
.
2
;
,
,
2
0.
i te rest i g allus i o to the cataco m bs of R o m e
n
n
n
old m a i s a appar i t i o of S t
holds a copy of h i s E p i stles a d reads E phes i v
2 01
T he
.
n
,
rba I pope who succeeded
beheaded May 5 3
Urlau , i
.
,
as
,
n,
Cal i xtus
n
n
n
1
n
.
“
n
n
,
I
n
S3
n
.
.
.
P
aul
5,6
.
.
.
He
lo g d aw ward pare thes i s t fou d i
all the vers i o s of the Lege d d clearly a i terpolat i o
I t occurs however i the L at i vers i o wh i ch Chaucer had
before h im so that he had cho i e B ut the story reads
better w i thout i t
2
83
- 2
0
7
A
.
an
n
k
n
n
n
,
,
an
,
n
n
n
n
n
n
n.
n
no
,
no
,
c
.
.
ca fi d such passage
S t A m brose ; see the ote above
2
71
I
.
n
n
no
n
.
2
73
2
88
i e
I t,
.
.
n
A b eas t , i
L
n
.
the field
.
at i
.
e.
n
n
.
the wo der
.
the ge u i e wor k s of
in
in
,
l
.
2
0.
7
vo i d of u” dersta d i g l i ke a b ast of
est
p
n
e c us
n
n
e
,
.
Th i s m ust be left as Chaucer so has i t
But he fias m i sta k e the Lat i wh i ch has “ I u a
hom i ”i s sap i e t i a tr i a su t i ge i u m m em or i a t i tel
l tu
i
the
sap i e ce of a m a there are three
; i
th i gs n atural capac i ty m em ory a d i tellect
8
33
Sa
.
‘
z eflces .
,
n
n
ec
.
n
n,
n
s
n
n
e.
366
3 83
.
.
.
—
8
6
3
n
,
n
,
,
n
n
em ,
i
.
e.
a
no
o
,
o
.
2
0.
.
.
n sw a
.
1 2
.
n
e
.
the brothers but t Cec i l i a
S w p 917 str i ke ff
I purposely reta i
Fro m R m x iii
Fro m Tim i v 7 8
39
l
n
n
,
,
n
:
n
on e
,
1
6
3
.
p
.
.
,
.
.
T he Chr i st i a s were brought to the statue of Jup i ter
co a ded to perform so m e act of sacr i fice or to throw
a few gra i n s of i ce n se i to the ce ser ; i f they re fused they
395
an d
mm
n
.
,
n
were put to death
40 6
Wi p gf
’
.
zz
leade plu m m ets
n
42
9
.
Tw o
was her ra k
n
,
'
,
.
lead ; i
.
e.
a wh i p w i th cords fur i shed w i th
n
.
he had first of all asked her what
ext what was her rel i g i o two th i gs
we rr , i
an d n
am
n
n
n
.
e.
n
,
1
54
n
The yeo m a had prev i ously expla i ed how the to i l
of blow i g of fire a d the fu m es of the m etals had spo i lt
h i s o ce ruddy co m plex i o
1 0
99
n
.
n
n
n
,
,
n.
n
Thou gh the pr i est had oste s i bly com e m erely to
repay a m ark he had prov i ded h i m self w i th all the m ater i als
for perform i g h i s feats S ll 6 5 8
1 1 1
6
n
.
,
n
1 1 2 2
1 1 2
6
A plz ilosoplz e r ;
.
M
.
ify ;
m in
ort
co m m o ter
n
.
.
.
.
an
—
1 1
.
ad pt i
n n
e
.
atural sc i e ce
n
a ffect by chem i cal act i o
the old alche m y
i
.
e.
n.
.
I
t
was
a
.
or S t Gil ; Fre ch form s of the
G i les day i s S ept
8 5 S t Gile ,
St
A e gidiu s
1 1
ee
.
n
es
.
’
1
.
Lat
.
.
m
a
large
as
we
m
ust
ult
i
ply
by
m
p
at least 5 to obta i the equ i vale t value at the prese t day
S uppose i t to m ea about £ 6
1
36 1
F o rty
.
1
o un
ds ;
su
n
,
n
36 5
obles
.
A
n
n
n
n
1
,
.
00 .
oble was worth
és
.
8d ;
.
so he brought
1 2 0
.
The T ale pract i c ally e ds here ; though there are 9 6
s co ta i i g the appl i cat i o a d som e d i scuss i o
m ore l i
1
385
n
.
ne
,
n
n n
n
1
56
n
n.
I N D EX
h I
lt
s al
N A ME S
OF
f
l
lt
I N t is n de x, th e e te r B re e rs to t he P rio re ss s Ta e th e e t e r C,
t o th e P ardo ne r T e ; t he e t t e r E , to t h e C e k
Ta e an d t h e e t e r
as
, t o t h e two
ro u s n o w i
I n o t e r wo rds , th e re e re n e are t o th e
th e Ta e s
i
an d o rre s o nd e x a
to th e n u mb e rm g o f th e m e s in the
a e d 1 v 1 de d
ry
S 1 x t e xt e di t i o n o f th e C u e r o ie t
-1
-2 8
-1
C
1
1
E
;
;
PP
;
3
4
7
3 93
pp 9 7 43
G
’
l t
h
c
.
B pp
l
.
l
lr s l
f cs
G p t h ch
p
ctl
l
ha c S c y
pp
G
H g h f Li c l
St B
&
4
I d I di E
99
I t ly E 5 7
.
.
.
i G
G
G
G
s
G
i
.
.
.
.
.
ad
r
.
,
~
u
n o n,
o
.
,
1
8 74
.
c.
n
a,
n
,
a
1 1
.
.
,
cl
s a B
.
.
G3
I t ly
,
a
,
2
1
E 5 8 9 , 6 86 , & c
an ,
o
,
0.
,
6 79 ,
G 59
8 5 9 2 , &c
1 80 4
,
.
.
I taly
.
a
F e rrar , E 5 1
F lan de rs, C 46 3
G is ld
e
a,
B
.
,
.
,
,
ah G
cl B
i
a y
Le ,
9 6, 9 8
Lin o n ,
1 8 74
Lin an, E 3 4 i s ee no e ,
Lo m b rd , E 46 , 72 , 9 45
Lo n do n ,
1 01 2
.
,
.
t p
.
32
1 75 0
H e b re w,
H e ro d, C 48 8 ; H e
.
,
r
2
55
o ds ,
,
B
&c
.
1
76 4
.
Ox
o
e
,
2
,
,
v h G 9 74
f rd E
N in e
1
49
.
.
0.
,
,
2 1 0, 2
.
.
,
.
.
.
Mary S t B 1 8 8
Maximu s G 3 6 8 3 7
Mo n te V1 5 0 E 47 5 8
.
E
.
G
.
2
,
81
.
,
as
.
l
Eve ,
Je wi sh B 1 6 79 1 749
Jo b E 9 3 2
Jo h n S t B 1 772
Jo h n th e B ap t ist C 49 1
Jud , G 1 00 3
,
.
.
,
,
,
E m i ia, the lEm ilian Way , in
E 51
G6
Janic ula, E 2 0 8 3 04 404, 6 3 2
Je w, B 1 76 0, 1 79 1 ; Je ws, B 1
.
hwm
G 8
Can aan it is
C e iia, S t
Chri ti n ,
r
.
.
B
.
vc
.
St
o gn a, in
e rn
o
l t
l
.
.
B
B l
’
.
A e x an dr a,
9 75
A lm ac h iu s ,
3 6 2 , 40 5 , 1 0,
2 71
A m b ro s e , S t ,
An n a, S t ,
70
A e n n in e , E 4 5
1 72
A ian Way ,
1 6 78
Asia, i e As a Min o r,
A v ic e n, A i e n n a, C 8 8 9
p
pp
’
.
,
1
.
,
.
3 77, 400
.
0,
I t ly
a
P adu , in a
P an ago , di
E
2
7
a st ict i I t ly
,
r
.
a
n
,
E 5 9 0,
76 4 9 3 9
s l
B 773
ch
c E3
t
a v
I t ly E 49
P a t m o , isand o f,
P e t rar , F ran c is
P ie dm o n , E 44
P 0, ri e r o f a
1
o,
.
1
,
1 1
47
.
S o l o mo n
,
y G
2 1
ch l
Ra e , B 1 81 7
R o m e . E 73 7,
Salu
z z o,
S e neca
U rb
.
G 36
in Lo m b
1 .
9 75
a dy
r
,
.
E 44, 6 3 ,
77s
.
,
49
n
7
G
2
o
.
e
U rban , 3 65
G 1 79
60,
85
1
89 ,
1
.
G
.
.
E 77, 42 1 , 6 3 1
W1 fe o f B , E 1 1 70
e r,
2
.
Va e r an ,
1 2 9 , 1 48 , & c
Ve ni e , E 5 1
c
Wal t
42 ,
.
a St p p
l i
.
.
Tib urc e , Tib urtius,
2 77, &c
Tro .
9 75
.
,
E6
ath
.
,
&c
.
R I CH A RD
C
LA Y
S o u s, LI MI T E D ,
B R E A D S T R E ET
B U N GA Y , sun
E . C ., A N D
Ch au c e r , Ge o f f r e y
Th e P ri
ore
s s s t al e
'
MOVE
PLEAS E D O NOT RE
CARD S O R S LIPS FRO M THIS POCKET
E RINDALE CO LLE GE LIB RARY