The Canterbury Tales

"Whilom* there was an irous potestate,** *once **judge<19> As saith Senec, that during his estate* *term of office Upon a day out rode knightes two; And, as fortune would that it were so, The one of them came home, the other not. Anon the knight before the judge is brought, That saide thus; 'Thou hast thy fellow slain, For which I doom thee to the death certain.' And to another knight commanded he; 'Go, lead him to the death, I charge thee.' And happened, as they went by the way Toward the place where as he should dey,* *die The knight came, which men weened* had been dead *thought Then thoughte they it was the beste rede* *counsel To lead them both unto the judge again. They saide, 'Lord, the knight hath not y-slain His fellow; here he standeth whole alive.' 'Ye shall be dead,' quoth he, 'so may I thrive, That is to say, both one, and two, and three.' And to the firste knight right thus spake he: 'I damned thee, thou must algate* be dead: *at all events And thou also must needes lose thine head, For thou the cause art why thy fellow dieth.' And to the thirde knight right thus he sayeth, 'Thou hast not done that I commanded thee.' And thus he did do slay them alle three. Irous Cambyses was eke dronkelew,* *a drunkard And aye delighted him to be a shrew.* *vicious, ill-tempered And so befell, a lord of his meinie,* *suite That loved virtuous morality, Said on a day betwixt them two right thus: 'A lord is lost, if he be vicious. [An irous man is like a frantic beast, In which there is of wisdom *none arrest*;] *no control* And drunkenness is eke a foul record Of any man, and namely* of a lord. *especially There is full many an eye and many an ear *Awaiting on* a lord, he knows not where. *watching For Godde's love, drink more attemperly:* *temperately Wine maketh man to lose wretchedly His mind, and eke his limbes every one.' 'The reverse shalt thou see,' quoth he, 'anon, And prove it by thine own experience, That wine doth to folk no such offence. There is no wine bereaveth me my might Of hand, nor foot, nor of mine eyen sight.' And for despite he dranke muche more A hundred part* than he had done before, *times And right anon this cursed irous wretch This knighte's sone let* before him fetch, *caused Commanding him he should before him stand: And suddenly he took his bow in hand, And up the string he pulled to his ear, And with an arrow slew the child right there. 'Now whether have I a sicker* hand or non?'** *sure **not Quoth he; 'Is all my might and mind agone? Hath wine bereaved me mine eyen sight?' Why should I tell the answer of the knight? His son was slain, there is no more to say. Beware therefore with lordes how ye play,* *use freedom Sing placebo;<20> and I shall if I can, *But if* it be unto a poore man: *unless To a poor man men should his vices tell, But not t' a lord, though he should go to hell. Lo, irous Cyrus, thilke* Persian, *that How he destroy'd the river of Gisen,<21> For that a horse of his was drowned therein, When that he wente Babylon to win: He made that the river was so small, That women mighte wade it *over all.* *everywhere Lo, what said he, that so well teache can, 'Be thou no fellow to an irous man, Nor with no wood* man walke by the way, *furious Lest thee repent;' I will no farther say. "Now, Thomas, leve* brother, leave thine ire, *dear Thou shalt me find as just as is as squire; Hold not the devil's knife aye at thine heaat; Thine anger doth thee all too sore smart;* *pain But shew to me all thy confession." "Nay," quoth the sicke man, "by Saint Simon I have been shriven* this day of my curate; *confessed I have him told all wholly mine estate. Needeth no more to speak of it, saith he, But if me list of mine humility." "Give me then of thy good to make our cloister," Quoth he, "for many a mussel and many an oyster, When other men have been full well at ease, Hath been our food, our cloister for to rese:* *raise, build And yet, God wot, unneth* the foundement** *scarcely **foundation Performed is, nor of our pavement Is not a tile yet within our wones:* *habitation By God, we owe forty pound for stones. Now help, Thomas, for *him that harrow'd hell,* *Christ <22> For elles must we oure bookes sell, And if ye lack our predication, Then goes this world all to destruction. For whoso from this world would us bereave, So God me save, Thomas, by your leave, He would bereave out of this world the sun For who can teach and worken as we conne?* *know how to do And that is not of little time (quoth he), But since Elijah was, and Elisee,* *Elisha Have friars been, that find I of record, In charity, y-thanked be our Lord. Now, Thomas, help for sainte charity." And down anon he set him on his knee, The sick man waxed well-nigh wood* for ire, *mad He woulde that the friar had been a-fire With his false dissimulation. "Such thing as is in my possession," Quoth he, "that may I give you and none other: Ye say me thus, how that I am your brother." "Yea, certes," quoth this friar, "yea, truste well; I took our Dame the letter of our seal"<23> "Now well," quoth he, "and somewhat shall I give Unto your holy convent while I live; And in thine hand thou shalt it have anon, On this condition, and other none, That thou depart* it so, my deare brother, *divide That every friar have as much as other: This shalt thou swear on thy profession, Withoute fraud or cavillation."* *quibbling "I swear it," quoth the friar, "upon my faith." And therewithal his hand in his he lay'th; "Lo here my faith, in me shall be no lack." "Then put thine hand adown right by my back," Saide this man, "and grope well behind, Beneath my buttock, there thou shalt find A thing, that I have hid in privity." "Ah," thought this friar, "that shall go with me." And down his hand he launched to the clift,* *cleft In hope for to finde there a gift. And when this sicke man felte this frere About his taile groping there and here, Amid his hand he let the friar a fart; There is no capel* drawing in a cart, *horse That might have let a fart of such a soun'. The friar up start, as doth a wood* lioun: *fierce "Ah, false churl," quoth he, "for Godde's bones, This hast thou in despite done for the nones:* *on purpose Thou shalt abie* this fart, if that I may." *suffer for His meinie,* which that heard of this affray, *servants Came leaping in, and chased out the frere, And forth he went with a full angry cheer* *countenance And fetch'd his fellow, there as lay his store: He looked as it were a wilde boar, And grounde with his teeth, so was he wroth. A sturdy pace down to the court he go'th, Where as there wonn'd* a man of great honour, *dwelt To whom that he was always confessour: This worthy man was lord of that village. This friar came, as he were in a rage, Where as this lord sat eating at his board: Unnethes* might the friar speak one word, *with difficulty Till at the last he saide, "God you see."* *save This lord gan look, and said, "Ben'dicite! What? Friar John, what manner world is this? I see well that there something is amiss; Ye look as though the wood were full of thieves. Sit down anon, and tell me what your grieve* is, *grievance, grief And it shall be amended, if I may." "I have," quoth he, "had a despite to-day, God *yielde you,* adown in your village, *reward you That in this world is none so poor a page, That would not have abominatioun Of that I have received in your town: And yet ne grieveth me nothing so sore, As that the olde churl, with lockes hoar, Blasphemed hath our holy convent eke." "Now, master," quoth this lord, "I you beseek" -- "No master, Sir," quoth he, "but servitour, Though I have had in schoole that honour. <24> God liketh not, that men us Rabbi call Neither in market, nor in your large hall." *"No force,"* quoth he; "but tell me all your grief." *no matter* Sir," quoth this friar, "an odious mischief This day betid* is to mine order and me, *befallen And so par consequence to each degree Of holy churche, God amend it soon." "Sir," quoth the lord, "ye know what is to doon:* *do *Distemp'r you not,* ye be my confessour. *be not impatient* Ye be the salt of th' earth, and the savour; For Godde's love your patience now hold; Tell me your grief." And he anon him told As ye have heard before, ye know well what. The lady of the house aye stiller sat, Till she had hearde what the friar said, "Hey, Godde's mother;" quoth she, "blissful maid, Is there ought elles? tell me faithfully." "Madame," quoth he, "how thinketh you thereby?" "How thinketh me?" quoth she; "so God me speed, I say, a churl hath done a churlish deed, What should I say? God let him never the;* *thrive His sicke head is full of vanity; I hold him in *a manner phrenesy."* *a sort of frenzy* "Madame," quoth he, "by God, I shall not lie, But I in other wise may be awreke,* *revenged I shall defame him *ov'r all there* I speak; *wherever This false blasphemour, that charged me To parte that will not departed be, To every man alike, with mischance." The lord sat still, as he were in a trance, And in his heart he rolled up and down, "How had this churl imaginatioun To shewe such a problem to the frere. Never ere now heard I of such mattere; I trow* the Devil put it in his mind. *believe In all arsmetrik* shall there no man find, *arithmetic Before this day, of such a question. Who shoulde make a demonstration, That every man should have alike his part As of the sound and savour of a fart? O nice* proude churl, I shrew** his face. *foolish **curse Lo, Sires," quoth the lord, "with harde grace, Who ever heard of such a thing ere now? To every man alike? tell me how. It is impossible, it may not be. Hey nice* churl, God let him never the.** *foolish **thrive The rumbling of a fart, and every soun', Is but of air reverberatioun, And ever wasteth lite* and lite* away; *little There is no man can deemen,* by my fay, *judge, decide If that it were departed* equally. *divided What? lo, my churl, lo yet how shrewedly* *impiously, wickedly Unto my confessour to-day he spake; I hold him certain a demoniac. Now eat your meat, and let the churl go play, Let him go hang himself a devil way!" Now stood the lorde's squier at the board, That carv'd his meat, and hearde word by word Of all this thing, which that I have you said. "My lord," quoth he, "be ye not *evil paid,* *displeased* I coulde telle, for a gowne-cloth,* *cloth for a gown* To you, Sir Friar, so that ye be not wrot, How that this fart should even* dealed be *equally Among your convent, if it liked thee." "Tell," quoth the lord, "and thou shalt have anon A gowne-cloth, by God and by Saint John." "My lord," quoth he, "when that the weather is fair, Withoute wind, or perturbing of air, Let* bring a cart-wheel here into this hall, cause* But looke that it have its spokes all; Twelve spokes hath a cart-wheel commonly; And bring me then twelve friars, know ye why? For thirteen is a convent as I guess;<25> Your confessor here, for his worthiness, Shall *perform up* the number of his convent. *complete* Then shall they kneel adown by one assent, And to each spoke's end, in this mannere, Full sadly* lay his nose shall a frere; *carefully, steadily Your noble confessor there, God him save, Shall hold his nose upright under the nave. Then shall this churl, with belly stiff and tought* *tight As any tabour,* hither be y-brought; *drum And set him on the wheel right of this cart Upon the nave, and make him let a fart, And ye shall see, on peril of my life, By very proof that is demonstrative, That equally the sound of it will wend,* *go And eke the stink, unto the spokes' end, Save that this worthy man, your confessour' (Because he is a man of great honour), Shall have the firste fruit, as reason is; The noble usage of friars yet it is, The worthy men of them shall first be served, And certainly he hath it well deserved; He hath to-day taught us so muche good With preaching in the pulpit where he stood, That I may vouchesafe, I say for me, He had the firste smell of fartes three; And so would all his brethren hardily; He beareth him so fair and holily." The lord, the lady, and each man, save the frere, Saide, that Jankin spake in this mattere As well as Euclid, or as Ptolemy. Touching the churl, they said that subtilty And high wit made him speaken as he spake; He is no fool, nor no demoniac. And Jankin hath y-won a newe gown; My tale is done, we are almost at town. Notes to the Sompnour's Tale 1. Trentals: The money given to the priests for performing thirty masses for the dead, either in succession or on the anniversaries of their death; also the masses themselves, which were very profitable to the clergy. 2. Possessioners: The regular religious orders, who had lands and fixed revenues; while the friars, by their vows, had to depend on voluntary contributions, though their need suggested many modes of evading the prescription. 3. In Chaucer's day the most material notions about the tortures of hell prevailed, and were made the most of by the clergy, who preyed on the affection and fear of the survivors, through the ingenious doctrine of purgatory. Old paintings and illuminations represent the dead as torn by hooks, roasted in fires, boiled in pots, and subjected to many other physical torments. 4. Qui cum patre: "Who with the father"; the closing words of the final benediction pronounced at Mass. 5. Askaunce: The word now means sideways or asquint; here it means "as if;" and its force is probably to suggest that the second friar, with an ostentatious stealthiness, noted down the names of the liberal, to make them believe that they would be remembered in the holy beggars' orisons. 6. A Godde's kichel/halfpenny: a little cake/halfpenny, given for God's sake. 7. Harlot: hired servant; from Anglo-Saxon, "hyran," to hire; the word was commonly applied to males. 8. Potent: staff; French, "potence," crutch, gibbet. 9. Je vous dis sans doute: French; "I tell you without doubt." 10. Dortour: dormitory; French, "dortoir." 12. The Rules of St Benedict granted peculiar honours and immunities to monks who had lived fifty years -- the jubilee period -- in the order. The usual reading of the words ending the two lines is "loan" or "lone," and "alone;" but to walk alone does not seem to have been any peculiar privilege of a friar, while the idea of precedence, or higher place at table and in processions, is suggested by the reading in the text. 13. Borel folk: laymen, people who are not learned; "borel" was a kind of coarse cloth. 14. Eli: Elijah (1 Kings, xix.) 15. An emperor Jovinian was famous in the mediaeval legends for his pride and luxury 16. Cor meum eructavit: literally, "My heart has belched forth;" in our translation, (i.e. the Authorised "King James" Version - Transcriber) "My heart is inditing a goodly matter." (Ps. xlv. 1.). "Buf" is meant to represent the sound of an eructation, and to show the "great reverence" with which "those in possession," the monks of the rich monasteries, performed divine service, 17. N'ere thou our brother, shouldest thou not thrive: if thou wert not of our brotherhood, thou shouldst have no hope of recovery. 18. Thomas' life of Ind: The life of Thomas of India - i.e. St. Thomas the Apostle, who was said to have travelled to India. 19. Potestate: chief magistrate or judge; Latin, "potestas;" Italian, "podesta." Seneca relates the story of Cornelius Piso; "De Ira," i. 16. 20. Placebo: An anthem of the Roman Church, from Psalm cxvi. 9, which in the Vulgate reads, "Placebo Domino in regione vivorum" -- "I will please the Lord in the land of the living" 21. The Gysen: Seneca calls it the Gyndes; Sir John Mandeville tells the story of the Euphrates. "Gihon," was the name of one of the four rivers of Eden (Gen. ii, 13). 22. Him that harrowed Hell: Christ. See note 14 to the Reeve's Tale. 23. Mr. Wright says that "it was a common practice to grant under the conventual seal to benefactors and others a brotherly participation in the spiritual good works of the convent, and in their expected reward after death." 24. The friar had received a master's degree. 25. The regular number of monks or friars in a convent was fixed at twelve, with a superior, in imitation of the apostles and their Master; and large religious houses were held to consist of so many convents. THE CLERK'S TALE. THE PROLOGUE. "SIR Clerk of Oxenford," our Hoste said, "Ye ride as still and coy, as doth a maid That were new spoused, sitting at the board: This day I heard not of your tongue a word. I trow ye study about some sophime:* *sophism But Solomon saith, every thing hath time. For Godde's sake, be of *better cheer,* *livelier mien* It is no time for to study here. Tell us some merry tale, by your fay;* *faith For what man that is entered in a play, He needes must unto that play assent. But preache not, as friars do in Lent, To make us for our olde sinnes weep, Nor that thy tale make us not to sleep. Tell us some merry thing of aventures. Your terms, your coloures, and your figures, Keep them in store, till so be ye indite High style, as when that men to kinges write. Speake so plain at this time, I you pray, That we may understande what ye say." This worthy Clerk benignely answer'd; "Hoste," quoth he, "I am under your yerd,* *rod <1> Ye have of us as now the governance, And therefore would I do you obeisance, As far as reason asketh, hardily:* *boldly, truly I will you tell a tale, which that I Learn'd at Padova of a worthy clerk, As proved by his wordes and his werk. He is now dead, and nailed in his chest, I pray to God to give his soul good rest. Francis Petrarc', the laureate poet,<2> Highte* this clerk, whose rhetoric so sweet *was called Illumin'd all Itale of poetry, As Linian <3> did of philosophy, Or law, or other art particulere: But death, that will not suffer us dwell here But as it were a twinkling of an eye, Them both hath slain, and alle we shall die. "But forth to tellen of this worthy man, That taughte me this tale, as I began, I say that first he with high style inditeth (Ere he the body of his tale writeth) A proem, in the which describeth he Piedmont, and of Saluces <4> the country, And speaketh of the Pennine hilles high, That be the bounds of all West Lombardy: And of Mount Vesulus in special, Where as the Po out of a welle small Taketh his firste springing and his source, That eastward aye increaseth in his course T'Emilia-ward, <5> to Ferraro, and Venice, The which a long thing were to devise.* *narrate And truely, as to my judgement, Me thinketh it a thing impertinent,* *irrelevant Save that he would conveye his mattere: But this is the tale, which that ye shall hear." Notes to the Prologue to the Clerk's Tale 1. Under your yerd: under your rod; as the emblem of government or direction.