Group 8
The Second Nun's Prologue
The ministre and norice unto vices
1
Which that men clepe in englissh ydelnesse,
2
That porter of the gate is of delices,
3
To eschue, and by hire contrarie hire oppresse,
4
That is to seyn, by leveful bisynesse,
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Wel oghten we to doon al oure entente,
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Lest that the feend thurgh ydelnesse us hente.
7
For he that with his thousand cordes slye
8
Continuelly us waiteth to biclappe,
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Whan he may man in ydelnesse espye,
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He kan so lightly cache hym in his trappe,
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Til that a man be hent right by the lappe,
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He nys nat war the feend hath hym in honde.
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Wel oghte us werche, and ydelnesse withstonde.
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And though men dradden nevere for to dye,
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Yet seen men wel by resoun, doutelees,
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That ydelnesse is roten slogardye,
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Of which ther nevere comth no good n' encrees,
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And syn that slouthe hire holdeth in a lees
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Oonly to slepe, and for to ete and drynke,
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And to devouren al that othere swynke,
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And for to putte us fro swich ydelnesse,
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That cause is of so greet confusioun,
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I have heer doon my feithful bisynesse
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After the legende, in translacioun
25
Right of thy glorious lif and passioun,
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Thou with thy gerland wroght with rose and lilie, --
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Thee meene I, mayde and martyr, seint cecile.
28
Invocacio ad mariam
And thow that flour of birgines art alle,
29
Of whom that bernard list so wel to write,
30
To thee at my bigynnyng first I calle;
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Thou confort of us wrecches, do me endite
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Thy maydens deeth, that wan thurgh hire merite
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The eterneel lyf, and of the feend victorie,
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As man may after reden in hire storie.
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Thow mayde and mooder, doghter of thy sone,
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Thow welle of mercy, synful soules cure,
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In whom that God for bountee chees to wone,
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Thow humble, and heigh over every creature,
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Thow nobledest so ferforth oure nature,
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That no desdeyn the makere hadde of kynde
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His sone in blood and flessh to clothe and wynde.
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Withinne the cloistre blisful of thy sydis
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Took mannes shap the eterneel love and pees,
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That of the tryne compas lord and gyde is,
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Whom erthe and see and hevene, out of relees,
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Ay heryen; and thou, virgine wemmelees,
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Baar of thy body -- and dweltest mayden pure --
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The creatour of every creature.
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Assembled is in thee magnificence
50
With mercy, goodnesse, and with swich pitee
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That thou, that art the sonne of excellence
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Nat oonly helpest hem that preyen thee,
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But often tyme, of thy benygnytee,
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Ful frely, er that men thyn help biseche,
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Thou goost biforn, and art hir lyves leche.
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Now help, thow meeke and blisful faire mayde,
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Me, flemed wrecche, in this desert of galle;
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Thynk on the womman cananee, that sayde
59
That whelpes eten somme of the crommes alle
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That from hir lordes table been yfalle;
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And though that I, unworthy sone of eve,
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Be synful, yet accepte my bileve.
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And, for that teith is deed withouten werkis,
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So for to werken yif me wit and space,
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That I be quit fro thennes that most derk is!
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O thou, that art so fair and ful of grace,
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Be myn advocat in that heighe place Page 208
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Theras withouten ende is songe osanne,
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Thow cristes mooder, doghter deere of anne!
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And of thy light my soule in prison lighte,
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That troubled is by the contagioun
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Of my body, and also by the wighte
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Of erthely lust and fals affeccioun;
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O havene of refut, o salvacioun
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Of hem that been in sorwe and in distresse,
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Now help, for to my werk I wol me dresse.
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Yet preye I yow that reden that I write,
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Foryeve me that I do no diligence
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This ilke storie subtilly to endite,
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For bothe have I the wordes and sentence
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Of hym that at the seintes reverence
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The storie wroot, and folwen hire legende,
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And pray yow that ye wole my wek amende.
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interpretacio nominis Cecilie quam ponit Frater Jacobus Januensis in legenda
First wolde I yow the name of seint cecilie
85
Expowne, as men may in hir storie see.
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It is to seye in englissh hevenes lilie,
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For pure chaastnesse of virginitee;
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Or, ofr she whitnesse hadde of honestee,
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And grene of conscience, and of good fame
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The soote savour, lilie was hir name.
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Or cecilie is to seye the wey to blynde,
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For she ensample was by good techynge;
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Or elles cecile, as I writen fynde,
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Is joyned, by a manere conjoynynge
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Of hevene and lia; and heere, in figurynge,
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The hevene is set for thoght of hoolynesse,
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And lia for hire lastynge bisynesse.
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Cecile may eek be seyd in this manere,
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Wantynge of blyndnesse, for hir grete light
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Of sapience, and for hire thewes cleere;
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Or elles, loo, this maydens name bright
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Of hevene and leos comth, for which by right
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Men myghte hire wel the hevene of peple calle,
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Ensample of goode and wise werkes alle.
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For leos peple in englissh is to seye,
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And right as men may in the hevene see
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The sonne and moone and sterres every weye,
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Right so men goostly in this mayden free
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Seyen of feith the magnanymytee,
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And eek the cleernesse hool of sapience,
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And sondry werkes, brighte of excellence.
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And right so as thise philosophres write
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That hevene is swift and round and eek brennynge,
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Right so was faire cecilie the white
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Ful swift and bisy evere in good werkynge,
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And round and hool in good perseverynge,
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And brennynge evere in charite ful brighte.
118
Now have I yow declared what she highte.
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The Second Nun's Tale
This mayden bright cecilie, as hir lif seith,
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Was comen of romayns, and of noble kynde,
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And from hir cradel up fostred in the feith
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Of crist, and bar his gospel in hir mynde.
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She nevere cessed, as I writen fynde,
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Of hir preyere, and God to love and drede,
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Bisekynge hym to kepe hir maydenhede.
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And whan this mayden sholde unto a man
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Ywedded be, that was ful yong of age,
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Which that ycleped was valerian,
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And day was comen of hir marriage,
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She, ful devout and humble in hir corage,
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Under hir robe of gold, that sat ful faire,
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Hadde next hire flessh yclad hire in an haire.
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And whil the organs maden melodie,
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To God allone in herte thus sang she:
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O lord, my soule and eek my body gye
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Unwemmed, lest that it confounded be.
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And, for his love that dyde upon a tree, Page 209
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Every seconde and thridde day she faste,
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Ay biddynge in hire orisons ful faste.
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The nyght cam, and to bedde moste she gon
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With hire housbonde, as ofte is the manere,
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And pryvely to hym she seyde anon,
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O sweete and wel biloved spouse deere,
144
Ther is a conseil, and ye wolde it heere,
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Which that right fayn I wolde unto yow seye,
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So that ye swere ye shul it nat biwreye.
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Valerian gan faste unto hire swere
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That for no cas, ne thyng that myghte be,
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He sholde nevere mo biwreyen here;
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And thanne at erst to hym thus seyde she:
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I have an aungel which that loveth me,
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That with greet love, wher so I wake or sleepe,
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Is redy ay my body for to kepe.
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And if that he may feelen, out of drede,
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That ye me touche, or love in vileynye,
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He right anon wol sle yow with the dede,
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And in youre yowthe thus ye shullen dye;
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And if that ye in clene love me gye,
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He wol yow loven as me, for youre clennesse,
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And shewen yow his joye and his brightnesse.
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Valerian, corrected as God wolde,
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Answerde agayn, if I shal trusten thee,
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Lat me that aungel se, and hym biholde;
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And if that it a verray angel bee,
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Thanne wol I doon as thou hast prayed me;
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And if thou love another man, for sothe
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Right with this swerd thanne wol I sle yow bothe.
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Cecile answerde anon-right in this wise:
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If that yow list, the angel shul ye see,
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So that ye trowe on crist and yow baptize.
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Gooth forth to via apia, quod shee,
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That fro this toun ne stant but miles three,
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And to the povre folkes that ther dwelle,
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Sey hem right thus, as that I shal yow telle.
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Telle hem that I, cecile, yow to hem sente,
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To shewen yow the goode urban the olde,
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For secree nedes and for good entente.
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And whan that ye seint urban han biholde,
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Telle hym the wordes whiche I to yow tolde;
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And whan that he hath purged yow fro synne,
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Thanne shul ye se that angel, er ye twynne.
182
Valerian is to the place ygon,
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And right as hym was taught by his lernynge,
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He foond this hooly olde urban anon
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Among the seintes buryeles lotynge.
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And he anon, withouten tariynge,
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Dide his message; and whan that he it tolde,
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Urban for joye his handes gan up holde.
189
The teeris from his eyen leet he falle.
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Almyghty lord, o jhesu crist, quod he,
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Sower of chaast conseil, hierde of us alle,
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The fruyt of thilke seed of chastitee
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That thou hast sowe in cecile, taak to thee!
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Lo, lyk a bisy bee, withouten gile,
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Thee serveth ay thyn owene thral cecile.
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For thilke spouse that she took but now
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Ful lyk a fiers leoun, she sendeth heere,
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As meke as evere was any lomb, to yow!
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And with that word anon ther gan appeere
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An oold man, clad in white clothes cleere,
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That hadde a book with lettre of gold in honde,
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And gan bifore valerian to stonde.
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Valerian as deed fil doun for drede
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Whan he hym saugh, and he up hente hym tho,
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And on his book right thus he gan to rede:
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O lord, o feith, o god, withouten mo,
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O cristendom, and fader of alle also,
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Aboven alle and over alle everywhere.
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Thise wordes al with gold ywriten were.
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Whan this was rad, thanne seyde this olde man,
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Leevestow this thyng or no? sey ye or nay.
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I leeve al this thyng, quod valerian,
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For sother thyng than this, I dar wel say,
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Under the hevene no wight thynke may.
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Tho vanysshed the olde man, he nyste where,
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And pope urban hym cristned right there.
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Valerian gooth hoom and fynt cecilie
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Withinne his chambre with an angel stonde.
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This angel hadde of roses and of lilie
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Corones two, the which he bar in honde;
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And first to cecile, as I understonde,
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He yaf that oon, and after gan he take
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That oother to valerian, hir make.
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With body clene and with unwemmed though
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Kepeth ay wel thise corones, quod he;
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Fro paradys to yow have I hem broght,
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Ne nevere mo ne shal they roten bee,
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Ne lese hir soote savour, trusteth me; Page 210
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Ne nevere wight shal seen hem with his ye,
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But he be chaast and hate vileynye.
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And thow, valerian, for thow so soone
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Assentedest to good conseil also,
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Sey what thee list, and thou shalt han thy boone.
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I have a brother,quod valerian tho,
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That in this world I love no man so.
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I pray yow that my brother may han grace
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To knowe the trouthe, as I do in this place.
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The angel seyde,god liketh thy requeste,
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And bothe, with the palm of martirdom,
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Ye shullen come unto his blisful feste.
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And with that word tiburce his brother coom.
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And whan that he the savour undernoom,
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Which that the roses and the lilies caste,
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Withinne his herte he gan to wondre faste,
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And seyde,i wondre, this tyme of the yeer
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Whennes that soote savour cometh so
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Of rose and lilies that I smelle heer.
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For though I hadde hem in myne handes two.
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The savour myghte in me no depper go.
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The sweete smel that in myn herte I fynde
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Hath chaunged me al in another kynde.
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Valerian seyde: two corones han we,
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Snow white and rose reed, that shynen cleere,
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Whiche that thyne eyen han no myght to see;
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And as thou smellest hem thurgh my preyere,
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So shaltow seen hem,leeve brother deere,
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If it so be thou wolt, withouten slouthe,
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Bileve aright and knowen verray troughe,
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Tiburce answerde, seistow this to me
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In soothnesse, or in dreem I herkne this?
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In dremes, quod valerian, han we be
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Unto this tyme, brother myn, ywis.
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But now at erst in trouthe oure dwellyng is.
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How woostow this? quod tiburce, and in what wyse?
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Quod valerian, that shal I thee devyse.
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The aungel of God hath me the trouthe ytaught
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Which thou shalt seen, if that thou wolt reneye
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The ydoles and be clene, and elles naught.
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And of the myracle of thise corones tweye
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Seint ambrose in his preface list to seye;
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Solempnely this noble doctour deere
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Commendeth it, and seith in this manere:
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The palm of martirdom for to receyve,
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Seinte cecile, fulfild of goddes yifte,
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The world and eek hire chambre gan she weyve;
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Witnesse tyburces and valerians shrifte,
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To whiche God of his bountee wolde shifte
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Corones two of floures wel smellynge,
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And make his angel hem the corones brynge.
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The mayde hath broght thise men to blisse above;
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The world hath wist what it is worth, certeyn,
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Devocioun of chastitee to love.
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Tho shewed hym cecile al open and pleyn
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That alle ydoles nys but a thyng in veyn,
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For they been dombe, and therto they been deve,
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And charged hym his ydoles for to leve.
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Whoso that troweth nat this, a beest he is,
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Quod tho tiburce, if that I shal nat lye.
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And she gan kisse his brest, that herde this,
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And was ful glad he koude trouthe espye.
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This day I take thee for myn allye,
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Seyde this blisful faire mayde deere,
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And after that, she seyde as ye may heere:
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Lo, right so as the love of crist, quod she,
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Made me thy brotheres wyf, right in that wise
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Anon for myn allye heer take I thee,
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Syn that thou wolt thyne ydoles despise.
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Go with thy brother now, and thee baptise,
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And make thee clene, so that thou mowe biholde
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The angels face of which thy brother tolde.
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Tiburce answerde and seyde, brother deere,
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First el me whider I shal, and to what man?
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To whom? quod he, com forth with right good cheere,
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I wol thee lede unto the pope urban.
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Til urban?brother myn valerian,
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Quod tho tiburce, woltow me thider lede?
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Me thynketh that it were a wonder dede.
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Ne menestow nat urban,quod he tho,
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That is so ofte dampned to be deed,
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And woneth in halkes alwey to and fro,
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And dar nat ones putte forth his heed?
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Men sholde hym brennen in a fyr so reed
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If he were founde, or that men myghte hym spye,
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And we also, to bere hym compaignye; Page 211
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And whil we seken thile divinitee
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That is yhid in hevene pryvely,
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Algate ybrend in this world shul we bel
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To whom cecile answerde boldely,
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Men myghten dreden wel and skilfully
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This lyf to lese, myn owene deere brother,
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If this were lyvynge oonly and noon oother.
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But ther is bettre lif in oother place,
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That nevere shal be lost, ne drede thee noght,
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Which goddes sone us tolde thurgh his grace.
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That fadres sone hath alle thyng ywroght,
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And al that wroght is with a skilful though,
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The goost, that fro the fader gan procede,
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Hath sowled hem, withouten any drede.
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By word and by myracle heigh goodes sone
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Whan he was in this world, declared heere
331
That ther was oother lyf ther men may wone.
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To whom answerde tiburce,o suster deere,
333
Ne seydestow right now in this manere,
334
Ther nys but o god, lord in soothfastnesse?
335
And now of three how maystow bere witnesse?
336
That shal I telle,quod she, er I go.
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Right as a man hath sapiences three,
338
Memorie, engyn, and intellect also,
339
So in o beynge of divinitee,
340
Thre persones may ther wright wel bee.
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Tho gan she hym ful bisily to preche
342
Of cristes come, and of his peynes teche,
343
And manye pointes of his passioun;
344
How goddes sone in this world was withholde
345
To doon mankynde pleyn remissioun,
346
That was ybounde in synne and cares colde,
347
Al this thyng she unto tiburce tolde.
348
And after this, tiburce in good entente
349
With valerian to pope urban he wente,
350
That thanked god, and with glad herte light
351
He cristned hyn, and made hym in that place
352
Parfit in his lernynge, goddes knyght.
353
And after this, tiburce gat swich grace
354
That every day he saugh, in tyme and space,
355
The aungel of god; and every maner boone
356
That he God axed, it was sped ful soone.
357
If were ful hard by ordre for to seyn
358
How manye wondres jhesus for hem wroghte;
359
But atte laste, to tellen short and pleyn,
360
The sergeantz of the toun of rome hem soghte,
361
And hem biforn almache, the prefect, broghte,
362
Which hem apposed, and knew al hire entente,
363
And to the ymage of juppiter hem sente,
364
And seyde, whoso wol nat sacrifise,
365
Swape of his heed; this my sentence heer.
366
Anon thise martirs that I yow devyse,
367
Oon maximus, that was an officer
368
Of the prefectes, and his corniculer,
369
Hem hente, and whan he forth the seintes ladde,
370
Hymself he weep for pitee that he hadde.
371
Whan maximus had herd the seintes loore,
372
He gat hym of the tormentoures leve,
373
And ladde hem to his hous withoute moore,
374
And with hir prechyng, er that it were eve,
375
They gonnen fro the tormentours to reve,
376
And fro maxime, and fro his fold echone,
377
The false feith, to trowe in God allone.
378
Cecile cam, whan it was woxen nyght,
379
With preestes that hem cristned alle yfeere;
380
And afterward, whan day was woxen light,
381
Cecile hem seyde with a ful stedefast cheere,
382
Now, christes owene knyghtes leeve and deere,
383
Cast alle awey the werkes of derknesse,
384
And armeth yow in armure of brightnesse.
385
Ye han for sothe ydoon a greet bataille,
386
Youre cours is doon, youre feith han ye conserved.
387
Gooth to the corone of lif that may nat faille;
388
The rightful juge, which that ye han served,
389
Shal yeve it yow, as ye han it deserved.
390
And whan this thyng was seyd as I devyse,
391
Men ledde hem forth to doon the sacrefise.
392
But whan they weren to the place broght
393
To tellen shortly the conclusioun,
394
They nolde encense ne sacrifise right noght,
395
But on hir knees they setten hem adoun
396
With humble herte and sad devocioun,
397
And losten bothe hir hevedes in the place.
398
Hir soules wenten to the kyng of grace.
399
This maximus, that saugh this thyng bityde,
400
With pitous teeris tolde it anonright,
401
That he hir soules saugh to hevene glyde
402
With aungels ful of cleernesse and of light,
403
And with his word converted many a wight;
404
For which almachius dide hym so tobete
405
With whippe of leed, til he his lif gan lete. Page 212
406
Cecile hym took and buryed hym anon
407
By tiburce and valerian softely
408
Withinne hire buriyng place, under the stoon;
409
And after this, almachius hastily
410
Bad his ministres fecchen openly
411
Cecile, so that she myghte in his presence
412
Doon sacrifice, and juppiter encense.
413
But they, converted at hir wise loore,
414
Wepten ful soore, and yaven ful credence
415
Unto hire word, and cryden moore and moore,
416
Crist, goddes sone, withouten difference,
417
Is verray God -- this is al oure sentence --
418
That hath so good a servant hym to serve.
419
This with o voys we trowen, thogh we sterve!
420
Almachius, that herde of this doynge,
421
Bad fecchen cecile, that he myghte hire see,
422
And alderfirst, lo! this was his axynge.
423
What maner womman artow? tho quod he.
424
I am a gentil womman born, quod she.
425
I axe thee, quod he, though it thee greeve,
426
Of thy religioun and of thy bileeve.
427
Ye han bigonne youre questioun folily,
428
Quod she, that wolden two answers conclude
429
In o demande; ye axed lewedly.
430
Almache answerde unto that similitude,
431
Of whennes comth thyn answeryng so rude?
432
Of whennes? quod she, whan that she was freyned,
433
Of conscience and of good feith unfeyned.
434
Almachius seyde, ne takestow noon heede
435
Of my power? and she answerde hym this:
436
Youre myght, quod she, ful litel is to dreede.
437
For every mortal mannes power nys
438
But lyk a bladdre ful of wynd ywys.
439
For with nedles poynt, whan it is blowe,
440
May al the boost of it be leyd ful lowe.
441
Ful wrongfully bigonne thow, quod he,
442
And yet in wrong is thy perserveraunce.
443
Wostow nat how oure myghty princes free
444
Han thus comanded and maad ordinaunce,
445
That every cristen wight shal han penaunce
446
But if that he his cristendom withseye,
447
And foon al quit, if he wole it reneye?
448
Yowre princes erren, as youre nobleye dooth,
449
Quod tho cecile, and with a wood sentence
450
Ye make us gilty, and it is nat sooth.
451
For ye, that knowen wel oure innocence,
452
For as muche as we doon a reverence
453
To crist, and for we berre a cristen name,
454
Ye putte on us a cryme, and eek a blame.
455
But we that knowen thilke name so
456
For vertuous, we may it nat withseye.
457
Almache answerde, chees oon of thise two:
458
Do sacrifice, or cristendom reneye,
459
That thou mowe now escapen by that weye.
460
At which the hooly blisful faire mayde
461
Gan for to laughe, and to juge sayde:
462
O juge, confus in thy nycetee,
463
Woltow that I reneye innocence,
464
To make me a wikked wight? quod shee.
465
Lo, he dissymuleth heere in audience;
466
He stareth, and woodeth in his advertence!
467
To whom almachius, unsely wrecche,
468
Ne woostow nat how fer my myght may strecche?
469
Han noght oure myghty princes to me yiven,
470
Ye, bothe power and auctoritee
471
To maken folk to dyen or to lyven?
472
Why spekestow so proudly thanne to me?
473
I speke noght but stedfastly, quod she;
474
Nat prudly, for I seye, as for my syde,
475
We haten deedly thilke vice of pryde.
476
And if thou drede nat a sooth to heere,
477
Thanne wol I shewe al openly, by right,
478
That thou hast maad a ful gret lesyng heere.
479
Thou seyst thy princes han thee yeven myght
480
Bothe for to sleen and for to quyken a wight;
481
Thou, that ne mayst but oonly lyf bireve,
482
Thou hast noon oother power ne no leve.
483
But thou mayst seyn thy princes han thee maked
484
Ministre of deeth; for if thou speke of mo,
485
Thou lyest, for thy power is ful naked.
486
Do wey thy booldnesse, seyde almachius tho,
487
And sacrifice to oure goddes, er thou go!
488
Irecche nat what wrong that thou me profre,
489
For I kan suffre it as a philosophre;
490
But thilke wronges may I nat endure
491
That thou spekest of oure goddes heere, quod
492
Cecile answerde, o nyce creature!
493
Thou seydest no word syn thou spak to me
494
That I ne knew therwith thy nycetee;
495
And that thou were, in every maner wise,
496
A lewed officer and a veyn justise. Page 213
497
Ther lakketh no thyng to thyne outer yen
498
That thou n' art blynd; for thyng that we seen alle
499
That it is stoon, -- that men may wel espyen, --
500
That ilke stoon a God tho wolt it calle.
501
I rede thee, lat thyn hand upon it falle,
502
And taste it wel, and stoon thou shalt it fynde,
503
Syn that thou seest nat with thyne eyen blynde.
504
It is a shame that the peple shal
505
So scorne thee, and laughe at thy folye;
506
For communly men woot it wel overal
507
That myghty God is in his hevenes hye;
508
And thise ymages, wel thou mayst espye,
509
To thee ne to hemself mowen noght profite,
510
For in effect thy been nat worth a myte.
511
Thise wordes and swiche othere seyde she,
512
And he weex wroth, and bad men sholde hir lede
513
Hom til hir hous, and in hire hous, quod he,
514
Brenne hire right in a bath of flambes rede.
515
And as he bad, right so was doon the dede;
516
For in a bath they gonne hire faste shetten,
517
And nyght and day greet fyr they under betten.
518
The longe nyght, and eek a day also,
519
For al the fyr, and eek the bathes heete,
520
She sat al coold, and feelede no wo.
521
It made hire nat a drope for to sweete.
522
But in that bath hir lyf she moste lete,
523
For he almachius, with ful wikke entente,
524
To sleen hire in the bath his sonde sente.
525
Thre strokes in the nekke he smoot hire tho,
526
The tormentour, but for no maner chaunce
527
He myghte noght smyte al hir nekke atwo;
528
And for ther was that tyme an ordinaunce
529
That no man sholde doon man swich penaunce
530
The ferthe strook to smyten, softe or soore,
531
This tormentour ne dorste do namoore,
532
But half deed, with hir nekke ycorven there,
533
He lefte hir lye, and on his wey is went.
534
The cristen folk, which that aboute hire were,
535
With sheetes han the blood ful faire yhent.
536
Thre dayes lyved she in this torment,
537
And nevere cessed hem the feithe to teche
538
That she hadde fostred; hem she gan to preche,
539
And hem she yaf hir moebles and hir thyng,
540
And to the pope urban bitook hem tho,
541
And seyde, I axed this of hevene kyng,
542
To han respit thre dayes and namo,
543
To recomende to yow, er that I go,
544
Thise soules, lo! and that I myghte do werche
545
Heere of myn hous perpetuilly a cherche.
546
Seint urban, with his deknes, prively
547
The body fette, and buryed it by nyghte
548
Among his othere seintes honestly.
549
Hir hous the chirche of seint cecilie highte;
550
Seint urban halwed it, as he wel myghte;
551
In which, into this day, in noble wyse,
552
Men doon to crist and to his seint servyse.
553
The Canon Yeoman's Prologue
Whan ended was the lyf of seinte cecile,
554
Er we hadde riden fully fyve mile,
555
A tboghtoun under blee us gan atake
556
A man that clothed was in clothes blake,
557
And under-nethe he hadde a whyt surplys.
558
His hakeney, that wasal pomely grys,
559
So swatte that it wonder was to see;
560
It semed as he had priked miles three.
561
The hors eek that his yeman rood upon
562
So swatte that sunnethe myghte it gon.
563
Aboute the peytrel sood the foom ful hye;
564
He was of foom al flekked a a pye.
565
A male tweyfoold on his croper lay;
566
It semed that he caried lite array.
567
Al light for somer rood this worthy man,
568
And in myn herte wondren I bigan
569
What that he was, til that I understood
570
How that his cloke was sowed to his good;
571
For which, whan I hadde longe avysed me,
572
I demed hym som chanoun for to be.
573
His hat heeng at his bak doun by a laas,
574
For he hadde riden moore than trot or paas;
575
He hadde ay priked lik as he were wood.
576
A clote-leef he hadde under his hood Page 214
577
For swoot, and for to keep his heed from heete.
578
But it was joye for to seen hym swete!
579
His forheed dropped as a stillatorie,
580
Were ful of plantayne and of paritorie.
581
And whan that he was come, he ban to crye,
582
God save, quod he, this joly compaignye!
583
Faste have I priked,!quod he, for youre sake,
584
By cause that I woldeyow atake,
585
To riden in this myrie compaignye.
586
His yeman eek was ful of curteisye,
587
And seyde, sires, now in the morwe-tyde
588
Out of youre hostelrie I saugh yow ryde,
589
And warned heer my lord and my soverayn,
590
Which that to ryden with yow is ful fayn
591
For his desport; he loveth daliaunce.
592
freend, for thy warnyng God yeve thee good chaunce!
593
Thanne seyde oure hoost, for certein it wolde seme
594
Thy lord were wys, and so I may wel deme.
595
He is ful jocunde also, dar I leye!
596
Can he oght telle a myrie tale or tweye,
597
With which he glade may his compaignye?
598
Who, sire? my lord? ye, ye, withouten lye,
599
He kan of murthe and eek of jolitee
600
Nat but ynough: also, sire, trusteth me,
601
And ye hym knewe as wel as do I,
602
Ye wolde wondre how wel and craftily
603
He koude werke, and that in sondry wise.
604
He hath take on hym many a greet emprise,
605
Which were ful hard for any that is heere
606
To brynge aboute, but they of hym it leere.
607
As hoomly as he rit amonges yow,
608
If ye hym kniewe, it wolde be for youre prow.
609
Ye wolde nat forgoon his aqueyntaunce
610
For muchel good, I dar leye in balaunce
611
Al that I have in my possessioun.
612
He is a man of heigh discrecioun;
613
I warne yow wel, he is a passyng man.
614
Wel, quod oure hoost, I pray thee tel me than,
615
Is he a clerk, or noon? telle what he is.
616
Nay, he is gretter than a clerk, ywis,
617
Seyde this yeman, and in wordes fewe,
618
Hoost, of his craft somwhat I wol yow shewe.
619
I seye, my lord kan swich subtilitee --
620
But al his craft ye may nat wite at me,
621
And somwhat helpe I yet to his wirkyng --
622
That al this ground on which we been ridyng,
623
Til that we come to caunterbury toun,
624
He koude al clene turne it up-so-doun,
625
And pave it al of silver and of gold.
626
And whan this yeman hadde this tale ytold
627
Unto oure hoost, he seyde, benedicitee!
628
This thyng is wonder merveillous to me,
629
Syn that thy lord is of so heigh prudence,
630
By cause of which men sholde hym reverence,
631
That of his worshipe rekketh he so lite.
632
His overslope nys nat worth a myte,
633
As in effect, to hym, so moot I go!
634
It is al baudy and totore also.
635
Why is thy lord so sluttissh, I the preye,
636
And is of power bettre clooth to beye,
637
Of that his dede accorde with thy speche?
638
Telle me that, and that I thee biseche.
639
Why? quod this yeman, wherto axe ye me?
640
God help me so, for he shal nevere thee!
641
(but I wol nat avowe that I seye,
642
And therfore keepe it secree, I yow preye.)
643
He is to wys, in feith, as I bileeve.
644
That that is overdoon, it wol nat preeve
645
Aright, as clerkes seyn; it is a vice.
646
Wherfore in that I holde hym lewed and nyce.
647
For whan a man hath over-greet a wit,
648
Ful oft hym happeth to mysusen it.
649
So doothy my lord, and that me greveth soore;
650
God it amende! I kan sey yow namoore.
651
Ther-of no fors, good yeman, quod oure hoost;
652
Syn of the konnyng of thy lord thow woost,
653
Telle how he dooth, I pray thee hertely,
654
Syn that he is so crafty and so sly.
655
Where dwelle ye, if it to telle be?
656
In the suburbes of a toun, quod he,
657
Lurkynge in hernes and in lanes blynde,
658
Wheras this robbours and thise theves by kynde
659
Holden hir pryvee fereful residence,
660
As they that dar nat shewen hir presence;
661
So faren we, if I shal seye the sothe.
662
Now, quod oure hoost, yit lat me talke to the.
663
Why artow so discoloured of thy face?
664
Peter! quod he, God yeve it harde grace,
665
I am so used in the fyr to blowe
666
That it hath chaunged my colour, I trowe.
667
I am nat wont in no mirour to prie,
668
But swynke soore and lerne multiplie.
669
We blondren evere and pouren in the fir,
670
And for al that we faille of oure desir,
671
For evere we lakken oure conclusioun.
672
To muchel folk we doon illusioun,
673
And borwe gold, be it a pound or two,
674
Or ten, or twelve, or manye sommes mo,
675
And make hem wenen, at the leeste weye,
676
That of a pound we koude make tweye.
677
Yet is it fals, but ay we han good hope Page 215
678
It for to doon, and after it we grope.
679
But that science is so fer us biforn,
680
We mowen nat, although we hadden it sworn,
681
It overtake, it slit awey so faste.
682
It wole us maken beggers atte laste.
683
Whil this yeman was thus in his talkyng,
684
This chanoun drough hym neer, and herde al thyng
685
Which that this yeman spak, for suspecioun
686
Of mennes speche evere hadde this chanoun.
687
For catoun seith that he that gilty is
688
Demeth alle thyng be spoke of hym, ywis.
689
That was the cause he gan so ny hym drawe
690
To his yeman, to herknen al his sawe.
691
And thus he seyde unto his yeman tho:
692
Hoold thou thy pees, and spek no wordes mo,
693
For if thou do, thou shalt it deere abye.
694
Thou sclaundrest me heere in this compaignye,
695
And eek discoverest that thou sholdest hyde.
696
Ye, quod oure hoost, telle on, what bityde.
697
Of al his thretyng rekke nat a myte!
698
In feith, quod he, namoore I do but lyte.
699
And whan this chanon saugh it wolde nat bee,
700
But his yeman wolde telle his pryvetee,
701
He fledde awey for verray sorwe and shame.
702
A! quod the yeman, heere shal arise game;
703
Al that I kan anon now wol I telle.
704
Syn he is goon, the foule feend hym quelle!
705
For nevere heerafter wol I with hym meete
706
For peny ne for pound, I yow biheete.
707
He that me broghte first unto that game,
708
Er that he dye, sorwe have he and shame!
709
For it is ernest to me, by me feith;
710
That feele I wel, what so any man seith.
711
And yet, for al my smert and al my grief,
712
For al my sorwe, labour, and meschief,
713
I koude nevere leve it in no wise.
714
Now wolde God my wit myghte suffise
715
To tellen al that longeth to that art!
716
But nathelees yow wol I tellen part.
717
Syn that my lord is goon, I wol nat spare;
718
Swich thyng as that I knowe, I wol declare.
719
The Canon Yeoman's Tale
Part I
With this chanoun I dwelt have seven yeer,
720
And of his science am I never the neer.
721
Al that I hadde I have lost therby,
722
And, God woot, so hath many mo than I.
723
Ther I was wont to be right fressh and gay
724
Of clothyng and of oother good array,
725
Now may I were an hose upon myn heed;
726
And wher my colour was bothe fressh and reed
727
Now is it wan and of a leden hewe --
728
Whoso it useth, soore shal he rewe! --
729
And of my swynk yet blered is myn ye.
730
Lo! which avantage is to multiplie!
731
That slidynge science hath me maad so bare
732
That I have no good, wher that evere I fare;
733
And yet I am endetted so therby,
734
Of gold that I have borwed, trewely,
735
That whil I lyve I shal it quite nevere.
736
Lat every man be war by me for evere!
737
What maner man that casteth hym therto,
738
If he continue, I holde his thrift ydo.
739
For so helpe me god, therby shal he nat wynne,
740
But empte his purs, and make his wittes thynne.
741
And whan he, thurgh his madnesse and folye,
742
Hath lost his owene good thurgh jupartye,
743
Thanne he exciteth oother folk therto,
744
To lesen hir good, as he hymself hath do.
745
For unto shrewes joye it is and ese
746
To have hir felawes in peyne and disese.
747
Thus was I ones lerned of a clerk.
748
Of that no charge, I wol speke of oure werk.
749
Whan we been there as we shul exercise
750
Oure elvysshe craft, we semen wonder wise,
751
Oure termes been so clerigal and so queynte.
752
I blowe the fir til that myn herte feynte.
753
What sholde I tellen ech proporcion
754
Of thynges whiche that we werche upon
755
As on fyve or sixe ounces, may wel be,
756
Of silver, or som oother quantitee --
757
And bisye me to telle yow the names Page 216
758
Of orpyment, brent bones, iren squames,
759
That into poudre grounden been ful smal;
760
And in an erthen pot how put is al,
761
And salt yput in, and also papeer,
762
Biforn thise poudres that I speke of heer;
763
And wel ycovered with a lampe of glas;
764
And of muche oother thyng which that ther was;
765
And of the pot and glasses enlutyng,
766
That of the eyr myghte passe out nothyng;
767
And of the esy fir, and smart also,
768
Which that was maad, and of the care and wo
769
That we hadde in oure matires sublymyng,
770
And in amalgamyng and calcenyng
771
Of quyksilver, yclept mercurie crude?
772
For alle oure sleightes we kan nat conclude.
773
Oure orpyment and sublymed mercurie,
774
Oure grounden litarge eek on the porfurie,
775
Of ech of thise of ounces a certeyn --
776
Noght helpeth us, oure labour is in veyn.
777
Ne eek oure spirites ascencioun,
778
Ne oure materes that lyen al fix adoun,
779
Mowe in oure werkyng no thyng us availle,
780
For lost is al oure labour and travaille;
781
And al the cost, a twenty devel waye,
782
Is lost also, which we upon it laye.
783
Ther is also ful many another thyng
784
That is unto oure craft apertenyng.
785
Though I by ordre hem nat reherce kan,
786
By cause that I am a lewed man,
787
Yet wol I telle hem as they come to mynde,
788
Thogh I ne kan nat sette hem in hir kynde:
789
As boole armonyak, verdegrees, boras,
790
And sondry vessels maad of erthe and glas,
791
Oure urynales and oure descensories,
792
Violes, crosletz, and sublymatories,
793
Cucurbites and alambikes eek,
794
And othere swiche, deere ynough a leek.
795
Nat nedeth it for to reherce hem alle, --
796
Watres rubifyng, and boles galle,
797
Arsenyk, sal armonyak and brymstoon;
798
And herbes koude I telle eek many oon,
799
As egremoyne, valerian, and lunarie,
800
And othere swiche, if that me liste tarie;
801
Oure lampes brennyng bothe nyght and day,
802
To brynge aboute oure purpos, if we may;
803
Oure fourneys eek of calcinacioun,
804
And of watres albificacioun;
805
Unslekked lym,chalk, and gleyre of an ey,
806
Poudres diverse, asshes, donge, pisse, and cley,
807
Cered pokkets, sal peter, vitriole,
808
And diverse fires maad of wode and cole;
809
Sal tartre, alkaly, and sal preparat,
810
And combust materes and coagulat;
811
Cley maad with hors of mannes heer, and oille
812
Of tartre, alum glas, berme, wort, and argoille,
813
Resalgar, and oure materes enbibyng,
814
And eek of oure materes encorporyng,
815
And of oure silver citrinacioun,
816
Oure cementyng and fermentacioun,
817
Oure yngottes, testes, and many mo.
818
I wol yow telle, as was me taught also,
819
The foure spirites and the bodies sevene,
820
By ordre, as ofte I herde my lord hem nevene.
821
The firste spirit quyksilver called is,
822
The seconde orpyment, the thridde, ywis,
823
Sal armonyak, and the ferthe brymstoon.
824
The bodyes sevene eek, lo! hem heere anoon:
825
Sol gold is, and luna silver we threpe,
826
Mars ire, mercurie quyksilver we clepe,
827
Saturnus leed, and juppiter is tyn,
828
And venus coper, by my fader kyn!
829
This cursed craft whoso wole excercise,
830
He shal no good han that hym may suffise;
831
For al the good he spendeth theraboute
832
He lese shal; therof have I no doute.
833
Whoso that listeth outen his folie,
834
Lat hym come forth and lerne multiplie;
835
And every man that oght hath in his cofre,
836
Lat hym appiere, and wexe a philosophre.
837
Ascaunce that craft is so light to leere?
838
Nay, nay, God woot, al be he monk or frere,
839
Preest or chanoun, or any oother wyght,
840
Though he sitte at his book bothe day and nyght
841
In lernyng of this elvysshe nyce loore,
842
Al is in veyn, and parde! muchel moore.
843
To lerne a lewed man this subtiltee --
844
Fy! spek nat therof, for it wol nat bee;
845
And konne he letterure, or konne he noon,
846
As in effect, he shal fynde it al oon.
847
For bothe two, by my savacioun,
848
Concluden in multiplicacioun
849
Ylike wel, whan they han al ydo;
850
This is to seyn, they faillen bothe two.
851
Yet forgat I to maken rehersaille
852
Of watres corosif, and of lymaille,
853
And of bodies mollificacioun,
854
And also of hire induracioun;
855
Oilles, ablucions, and metal fusible, --
856
To tellen al wolde passen any bible
857
That owher is; wherfore, as for beste,
858
Of alle thise names now wol I me reste.
859
For, as I trowe, I have yow toold ynowe
860
To reyse a feend, al looke he never so rowe.
861
A!nay! lat be; the philosophres stoon,
862
Elixer clept, we sechen faste echoon;
863
For hadde we hym, thanne were we siker ynow. Page 217
864
But unto God of hevene I make avow,
865
For al oure craft, whan we han al ydo,
866
And al oure sleighte, he wol nat come us to.
867
He hath ymaad us spenden muchel good,
868
For sorwe of which almoost we wexen wood,
869
But that good hope crepeth in oure herte,
870
Supposynge evere, though we sore smerte,
871
To be releeved by hym afterward.
872
Swich supposyng and hope is sharp and hard;
873
I warne yow wel, it is to seken evere.
874
That futur temps hath maad men to dissevere,
875
In trust therof, from al that evere they hadde.
876
Yet of that art they kan nat wexen sadde,
877
For unto hem it is a bitter sweete, --
878
So semeth it, -- for nadde they but a sheete,
879
Which that they myghte wrappe hem inne a-nyght,
880
And a brat to walken inne by daylyght,
881
They wolde hem selle and spenden on this craft.
882
They kan nat stynte til no thyng be laft.
883
And everemoore, where that evere they goon
884
Men may hem knowe by smel of brymstoon.
885
For al the world they stynken as a goot;
886
Hir savour is so rammyssh and so hoot
887
That though a man from hem a mile be,
888
The savour wole infecte hym, trusteth me.
889
And thus by smel, and by threedbare array,
890
If that men liste, this folk they knowe may.
891
And if a man wole aske hem pryvely
892
Why they been clothed so unthriftily,
893
They right anon wol rownen is his ere,
894
And seyn that if that they espied were,
895
Men wolde hem slee by cause of hir science.
896
Lo, thus this folk bitrayen innocence!
897
Passe over this; if go my tale unto.
898
Er that the pot be on the fir ydo,
899
Of metals with a certeyn quantitee,
900
My lord hem tempreth, and no man be he --
901
Now he is goon, I dar seyn boldely --
902
For, as men seyn, he kan doon craftily.
903
Algate I woot wel he hath swich a name,
904
And yet ful ofte he renneth in a blame.
905
And wite ye how? ful ofte it happeth so,
906
The pot tobreketh, and farewel, al is go!
907
Thise metals been of so greet violence,
908
Oure walles mowe nat make hem resistence,
909
But if they weren wroght of lym and stoon;
910
They percen so, and thurgh the wal they goon.
911
And somme of hem synken into the ground --
912
Thus han we lost by tymes many a pound --
913
And somme are scatered al the floor aboute;
914
Somme lepe into the roof. Withouten doute,
915
Though that the feend noght in oure sighte hym shewe,
916
I trowe he with us be, that ilke shrewe!
917
In helle, where that he lord is and sire,
918
Nis ther moore wo, ne moore rancour ne ire.
919
Whan that oure pot is broke, as I have sayd,
920
Every man chit, and halt hym yvele apayd.
921
Somme seyde it was long on the fir makyng;
922
Somme seyde nay, it was on the blowyng, --
923
Thanne was I fered, for that was myn office.
924
Straw! quod the thridde, ye been lewed and nyce.
925
It was nat tempred as it oghte be.
926
Nay, quod the fourthe, stynt and herkne me.
927
By cause oure fir ne was nat maad of beech,
928
That is the cause, and oother noon, so theech!
929
I kan nat telle wheron it was long,
930
But wel I woot greet strif is us among.
931
What, quod my lord, ther is namoore to doone;
932
Of thise perils I wol be war eftsoone.
933
I am right siker that the pot was crased.
934
Be as be may, be ye no thyng amased;
935
As usage is, lat swepe the floor as swithe,
936
Plukke up youre hertes, and beeth glad and blithe.
937
The mullok on an heep ysweped was,
938
And on the floor ycast a canevas,
939
And al this mullok in a syve ythrowe,
940
And sifted, and ypiked mayn a throwe.
941
Pardee, quod oon, somwhat of oure metal
942
Yet is ther heere, though that we han nat al.
943
Although this thyng myshapped have as now,
944
Another tyme it may be well ynow.
945
Us moste putte oure good in aventure.
946
A marchant, pardee, may nat ay endure,
947
Trusteth me wel, in his prosperitee.
948
Somtyme his good is drowned in the see,
949
And somtyme comth it sauf unto the londe.
950
Pees! quod my lord, the nexte tyme I wol fonde
951
To bryngen oure craft al in another plite,
952
And but I do, sires, lat me han the wite.
953
Ther was defaute in somwhat, wel I woot,
954
Another seyde the fir was over-hoot, --
955
But, be it hoot or coold, I dar seye this,
956
That we concluden everemoore amys.
957
We faille of that which that we wolden have,
958
And in oure madnesse everemoore we rave.
959
And whan we been togidres everichoon,
960
Every man semeth a salomon.
961
But al thyng which that shineth as the gold
962
Nis nat gold, as that I have herd it told;
963
Ne every appul that is fair at eye Page 218
964
Ne is nat good, what so men clappe or crye.
965
Right so, lo, fareth it amonges us:
966
He that semeth the wiseste, by jhesus!
967
Is moost fool, whan it cometh to the preef;
968
And he that semeth trewest is the theef.
969
That shul ye knowe, er that I fro yow wende,
970
By that I of my tale have maad an ende.
971
Explicit prima pars.
Et sequitur pars secunda.
Ther is a chanoun of religioun
972
Amounges us, wolde infecte al a toun,
973
Thogh it as greet were as was nynyvee,
974
Rome, alisaundre, troye, and othere three.
975
His sleightes and his infinite falsnesse
976
Ther koude no man writen, as I gesse,
977
Though that he myghte lyve a thousand yeer.
978
In al this world of falshede nis his peer;
979
For in his termes he wol hym so wynde,
980
And speke his wordes in so sly a kynde,
981
Whanne he commune shal with any wight,
982
That he wol make hym doten anonright,
983
But it a feend be, as hymselven is.
984
Ful many a man hath he bigiled er this,
985
And wole, if that he lyve may a while;
986
And yet men ride and goon ful many a mile
987
Hym for to seke and have his aqueyntaunce,
988
Noght knowynge of his false governaunce.
989
And if yow list to yeve me audience,
990
I wol it tellen heere in youre presence.
991
But worshipful chanons religious,
992
Ne demeth nat that I sclaundre youre hous,
993
Although that my tale of a chanoun bee.
994
Of every ordre som shrewe is, pardee,
995
And God forbede that al a compaignye
996
Sholde rewe o singuleer mannes folye.
997
To sclaundre yow is no thyng myn entente,
998
But to correcten that is mys I mente.
999
This tale was nat oonly toold for yow
1000
But eek for othere mo; ye woot wel how
1001
That among cristes apostelles twelve
1002
Ther nas no traytour but judas hymselve.
1003
Thanne why sholde al the remenant have a blame
1004
That giltlees were? by yow I seye the same,
1005
Save oonly this, if ye wol herke me:
1006
If any judas in youre covent be,
1007
Remoeveth hym bitymes, I yow rede,
1008
If shame or los may causen any drede.
1009
And beeth no thyng displesed, I yow preye,
1010
But in this cas herkneth what I shal seye.
1011
In londoun was a preest, an annueleer,
1012
That therinne dwelled hadde mayn a yeer,
1013
Which was so plesaunt and se servysable
1014
Unto the wyf, where as he was at table,
1015
That she wolde suffre hym no thyng for to paye
1016
For bord ne clothyng, wente he never so gaye;
1017
And spendyng silver hadde he right ynow.
1018
Therof no fors; I wol procede as now,
1019
And telle forth my tale of the chanoun
1020
That broghte this preest to confusioun.
1021
This false chanon cam upon a day
1022
Unto this preestes chambre, wher he lay,
1023
Bisechynge hym to lene hym a certeyn
1024
Of gold, and he wolde quite it hym ageyn.
1025
Leene me a marc, quod he, but dayes three,
1026
And at my day I wol it quiten thee.
1027
And if so be that thow me fynde fals,
1028
Another day do hange me by the hals!
1029
This preest hym took a marc, and that as swithe,
1030
And this chanoun hym thanked ofte sithe,
1031
And took his leve, and wente forth his weye,
1032
And at the thridee day broghte his moneye,
1033
And to the preest he took his gold agayn,
1034
Wherof this preest was wonder glad and fayn.
1035
Certes, quod he, no thyng anoyeth me
1036
To lene a man a noble, or two, or thre,
1037
Or what thyng were in my possessioun,
1038
Whan he so trewe is of condicioun
1039
That in no wise he breke wole his day;
1040
To swich a man I kan never seye nay.
1041
What! quod this chanoun, sholde I be untrewe?
1042
Nay, that were thyng yfallen al of newe.
1043
Trouthe is a thyng that I wol evere kepe
1044
Unto that day in which that I shal crepe
1045
Into my grave, and ellis God forbede.
1046
Bileveth this as siker as your crede.
1047
God thanke I, and in good tyme be it sayd,
1048
That ther was nevere man yet yvele apayd
1049
For gold ne silver that he to me lente,
1050
Ne nevere falshede in myn herte I mente.
1051
And sire, quod he, now of my pryvetee,
1052
Syn ye so goodlich han been unto me,
1053
And kithed to me so greet gentillesse,
1054
Somwhat to quyte with youre kyndenesse
1055
I wol yow shewe, and if yow list to leere,
1056
I wol yow teche pleynly the manere
1057
Yow I kan werken in philosophie.
1058
Taketh good heede, ye shul wel seen at ye
1059
That I wol doon a maistrie er I go.
1060
Ye, quod the preest, ye, sire, and wol ye so?
1061
Marie! therof I pray yow hertely. Page 219
1062
At youre comandement, sire, trewely,
1063
Quod the chanoun, and ellis God forbeede!
1064
Loo, how this theef koude his service beede!
1065
Ful sooth it is that swich profred servyse
1066
Stynketh, as witnessen thise olde wyse,
1067
And that, ful soone I wol it verifie
1068
In this chanoun, roote of al trecherie,
1069
That everemoore delit hath and gladnesse --
1070
Swiche feendly thoghtes in his herte impresse --
1071
How cristes peple he may to meschief brynge.
1072
God kepe us from his false dissymulynge!
1073
Noght wiste this preest with whom that he delte,
1074
Ne of his harm comynge he no thyng felte.
1075
O sely preest! o sely innocent!
1076
With coveitise anon thou shalt be blent!
1077
O gracelees, ful blynd is thy conceite,
1078
No thyng ne artow war of the deceite
1079
Which that this fox yshapen hath to thee!
1080
His wily wrenches thou ne mayst nat flee.
1081
Wherfore, to go to the conclusion,
1082
That refereth to thy confusion,
1083
Unhappy man, anon I wol me hye
1084
To tellen thyn unwit and thy folye,
1085
And eek the falsnesse of that oother wrecche,
1086
As ferforth as that my konnyng wol strecche.
1087
This chanon was my lord, ye wolden weene?
1088
Sire hoost, in feith, and by the hevenes queene,
1089
It was another chanoun, and nat hee,
1090
That kan an hundred foold moore subtiltee.
1091
He hath bitrayed folkes many tyme;
1092
Of his falsnesse it dulleth me to ryme.
1093
Evere whan that I speke of his falshede,
1094
For shame of hym my chekes wexen rede.
1095
Algates they bigynnen for to glowe,
1096
For reednesse have I noon, right wel I knowe,
1097
In my visage; for fumes diverse
1098
Of metals, whiche ye han herd me reherce,
1099
Consumed and wasted han my reednesse.
1100
Now taak heede of this chanons cursednesse!
1101
Sire, quod he to the preest, lat youre man gon
1102
For quyksilver, that we it hadde anon;
1103
And lat hym bryngen ounces two or three;
1104
And whan he comth, as faste shal ye see
1105
A wonder thyng, which ye saugh nevere er this.
1106
Sire, quod the preest, it shal be doon, ywis.
1107
He bad his servant fecchen hym this thyng,
1108
And he al redy was at his biddyng,
1109
And wente hym forth, and cam anon agayn
1110
With this quyksilver, shortly for to sayn,
1111
And took thise ounces thre to the chanoun;
1112
And he hem leyde faire and wel adoun,
1113
And bad the servant coles for to brynge,
1114
That he anon myghte go to his werkynge.
1115
The coles right anon weren yfet,
1116
And this chanoun took out a crosselet
1117
Of his bosom, and shewed it to the preest.
1118
This instrument, quod he, which that thou seest,
1119
Taak in thy hand, and put thyself therinne
1120
Of this quyksilver an ounce, and heer bigynne,
1121
In name of crist, to wexe a philosofre.
1122
Ther been ful fewe to whiche I wolde profre
1123
To shewen hem thus muche of my science.
1124
For ye shul seen heer, by experience,
1125
That this quyksilver I wol mortifye
1126
Right in youre sighte anon, withouten lye,
1127
And make it as good silver and as fyn
1128
As ther is any in youre purs or myn,
1129
Or elleswhere, and make it malliable;
1130
And elles holdeth me fals and unable
1131
Amonges folk for evere to appeere.
1132
I have poudre heer, that coste me deere,
1133
Shal make al good, for it is cause of al
1134
My konnyng, which that I yow shewen shal.
1135
Voyde youre man, and lat hym be theroute,
1136
And shette the dore, whils we been aboute
1137
Oure pryvetee, that no man us espie,
1138
Whils that we werke in this philosophie.
1139
Al as he bad fulfilled was in dede.
1140
This ilke servant anonright out yede
1141
And his maister shette the dore anon,
1142
And to hire labour spedily the gon.
1143
This preest, at this cursed chanons biddyng,
1144
Upon the fir anon sette this thyng,
1145
And blew the fir, and bisyed hym ful faste.
1146
And this chanoun into the crosselet caste
1147
A poudre, noot I wherof that it was
1148
Ymaad, outher of chalk, outher of glas,
1149
Or somwhat elles, was nat worth a flye,
1150
To blynde with this preest; and bad hym hye
1151
The coles for to couchen al above
1152
The crosselet. For in tokenyng I thee love,
1153
Quod this chanoun, thyne owene handes two
1154
Shul werche al thyng which that shal heer be do.
1155
Graunt mercy, quod the preest, and was ful glad,
1156
And couched coles as that the chanoun bad.
1157
And while he bisy was, this feendly wrecche,
1158
This false chanoun -- the foule feend hym fecche! --
1159
Out of his bosom took a bechen cole,
1160
In which ful subtilly was maad an hole, Page 220
1161
And therinne put was of silver lemaille
1162
An ounce, and stopped was, withouten faille,
1163
This hole with wex, to kepe the lemaille in.
1164
And understondeth that this false gyn
1165
Was nat maad ther, but it was maad bifore;
1166
And othere thynges I shal tellen moore
1167
Herafterward, whiche that he with hym broghte.
1168
Er he cam there, hym to bigile he thoghte,
1169
And so he dide, er that they wente at wynne;
1170
Til he had terved hym, koude he nat blynne.
1171
It dulleth me whan that I of hym speke.
1172
On his falshede fayn wolde I me wreke,
1173
If I wiste how, but he is heere and there;
1174
He is so variaunt, be abit nowhere.
1175
But taketh heed now, sires, for goddes love!
1176
He took his cole of which I spak above,
1177
And in his hand he baar it pryvely.
1178
And whiles the preest couched bisily
1179
The coles, as I tolde yow er this,
1180
This chanoun seyde, freend, ye doon amys.
1181
This is nat couched as it oghte be;
1182
But soone I shal amenden it, quod he.
1183
Now lat me medle therwith but a while,
1184
For of yow have I pitee, by seint gile!
1185
Ye been right hoot; I se wel how ye swete.
1186
Have heere a clooth, and wipe awey the wete.
1187
And whiles that the preest wiped his face,
1188
This chanoun took his cole -- with sory grace! --
1189
And leyde it above upon the myddeward
1190
Of the crosselet, and blew wel afterward,
1191
Til that the coles gonne faste brenne.
1192
Now yeve us drynke, quod the chanoun thenne;
1193
As swithe al shal be wel, I undertake.
1194
Sitte we doun, and lat us myrie make.
1195
And whan that this chanounes bechen cole
1196
Was brent, al the lemaille out of the hole
1197
Into the crosselet fil anon adoun;
1198
And as it moste nedes, by resoun,
1199
Syn it so even aboven it couched was.
1200
But therof wiste the preest nothyng, alas!
1201
He demed alle the coles yliche good;
1202
For of that sleighte he nothyng understood.
1203
And whan this alkamystre saugh his tyme,
1204
Ris up, quod he, sire preest, and stondeth by me;
1205
And for I woot wel ingot have ye noon,
1206
Gooth, walketh forth, and brynge us a chalk stoon;
1207
For I wol make it of the same shap
1208
That is an ingot, if I may han hap.
1209
And bryngeth eek with yow a bolle or a panne
1210
Ful of water, and ye shul se wel thanne
1211
How that oure bisynesse shal thryve and preeve.
1212
And yet, for ye shul han no mysbileeve
1213
New wrong conceite of me in youre absence,
1214
I ne wol nat been out of youre presence,
1215
But go with yow, and come with yow ageyn.
1216
The chambre dore, shortly for to seyn,
1217
They opened and shette, and wente hir weye.
1218
And forth with hem they carieden the keye,
1219
And coome agayn withouten any delay.
1220
What sholde I tarien al the longe day?
1221
He took the chalk, and shoop it in the wise
1222
Of an ingot, as I shal yow devyse.
1223
I seye, he took out of his owene sleeve
1224
A teyne of silver -- yvele moot he cheeve! --
1225
Which that ne was nat but an ounce of weighte.
1226
And taaketh heede now of his cursed sleighte!
1227
He shoop his ingot, in lengthe and in breede
1228
Of this teyne, withouten any drede,
1229
So slyly that the preest it nat espide,
1230
And in his sleve agayn he gan it hide,
1231
And fro the fir he took up his mateere,
1232
And in th' yngot putte it with myrie cheere,
1233
And in the water-vessel he it caste,
1234
Whan that hym luste, and bad the preest as faste,
1235
Loke what ther is, put in thyn hand and grope.
1236
Thow fynde shalt ther silver, as I hope.
1237
What, devel of helle! sholde it elles be?
1238
Shaving of silver silver is, pardee!
1239
He putte his hand in and took up a teyne
1240
Of silver fyn, and glad in every veyne
1241
Was this preest, whan he saugh that it was so.
1242
Goddes blessyng, and his moodres also,
1243
And alle halwes, have ye, sire chanoun,
1244
Seyde the preest, and I hir malisoun,
1245
But, and ye vouche-sauf to techen me
1246
This noble craft and this subtilitee,
1247
I wol be youre in al that evere I may.
1248
Quod the chanoun, yet wol I make assay
1249
The seconde tyme, that ye may taken heede
1250
And been expert of this, and in youre neede
1251
Another day assaye in myn absence
1252
This disciplyne and this crafty science.
1253
Lat take another ounce, quod he tho,
1254
Of quyksilver, withouten wordes mo,
1255
And do therwith as ye han doon er this
1256
With that oother, which that now silver is.
1257
This preest hym bisieth in al that he kan
1258
To doon as this chanoun, this cursed man,
1259
Comanded hym, and faste he blew the fir,
1260
For to come to th' effect of his desir.
1261
And this chanon, right in the meene while, Page 221
1262
Al redy was this preest eft to bigile,
1263
And for a contenaunce in his hand he bar
1264
An holwe stikke -- taak kep and be war! --
1265
In the ende of which an ounce, and namoore,
1266
Of silver lemaille put was, as bifore
1267
Was in his cole, and stopped with wex weel
1268
For to kepe in his lemaille every deel.
1269
And whil this preest was in his bisynesse,
1270
This chanoun with his stikke gan hym dresse
1271
To hym anon, and his poudre caste in
1272
As he dide er -- the devel out of his skyn
1273
Hym terve, I pray to god, for his falshede!
1274
For he was evere fals in thoght and dede --
1275
And with this stikke, above the crosselet,
1276
That was ordeyned with that false jet
1277
He stired the coles til relente gan
1278
The wex agayn the fir, as every man,
1279
But it a fool be, woot wel it moot nede,
1280
And al that in the stikke was out yede,
1281
And in the crosselet hastily it fel.
1282
Now, good sires, what wol ye bet than wel?
1283
Whan that this preest thus was bigiled ageyn,
1284
Supposynge noght but treuthe, sooth to seyn,
1285
He was so glad that I kan nat expresse
1286
In no manere his myrthe and his gladnesse;
1287
And to the chanoun he profred eftsoone
1288
Body and good. Ye, quod the chanoun soone,
1289
Though poure I be, crafty thou shalt me fynde.
1290
I warne thee, yet is ther moore bihynde.
1291
Is ther any coper herinne? seyde he.
1292
Ye, quod the preest, sire, I trowe wel ther be.
1293
Elles go bye us som, and that as swithe;
1294
Now, goode sire, go forth thy wey and hy the.
1295
He wente his wey, and with the coper cam,
1296
And this chanon it in his handes nam,
1297
And of that coper weyed out but an ounce.
1298
Al to symple is my tonge to pronounce,
1299
As ministre of my wit, the doublenesse
1300
Of this chanoun, roote of alle cursednesse!
1301
He semed freendly to hem that knewe hym noght,
1302
But he was feendly bothe in werk and thoght.
1303
It weerieth me to telle of his falsnesse,
1304
And nathelees yet wol I it expresse,
1305
To th' entente that men may be war therby,
1306
And for noon oother cause, trewely.
1307
He putte this ounce of coper in the crosselet,
1308
And on the fir as swithe he hath it set,
1309
And caste in poudre, and made the preest to blowe,
1310
And in his werkyng for to stoupe lowe,
1311
As he dide er, -- and al nas but a jape;
1312
Right as hym liste, the preest he made his ape!
1313
And afterward in the ingot he it caste,
1314
And in the panne putte it at the laste
1315
Of water, and in he putte his owene hand,
1316
And in his sleve (as ye biforen-hand
1317
Herde me telle) he hadde a silver teyne.
1318
He slyly took it out, this cursed heyne,
1319
Unwityng this preest of his false craft,
1320
And in the pannes botme he hath it laft;
1321
And in the water rombled to and fro,
1322
And wonder pryvely took up also
1323
The coper teyne, noght knowynge this preest,
1324
And hidde it, and hym hente by the breest,
1325
And to hym spak, and thus seyde in his game:
1326
Stoupeth adoun, by god, ye be to balme!
1327
Helpeth me now, as I dide yow whileer;
1328
Putte in youre hand, and looketh what is theer.
1329
This preest took up this silver teyne anon,
1330
And thanne seyde the chanoun, lat us gon
1331
With thise thre teynes, whiche that we han wroght,
1332
To som goldsmyth, and wite if they been oght.
1333
For, by my feith, I nolde, for myn hood,
1334
But if that they were silver fyn and good,
1335
And that as swithe preeved it shal bee.
1336
Unto the goldsmyth with thise teynes three
1337
They wente, and putte thise teynes in assay
1338
Fo fir and hamer; myghte no man seye nay,
1339
But that they weren as hem oghte be.
1340
This sotted preest, who was gladder than he?
1341
Was nevere brid gladder agayn the day,
1342
Ne nyghtyngale, in the sesoun of may,
1343
Was nevere noon that luste bet to synge;
1344
Ne lady lustier in carolynge,
1345
Or for to speke of love and wommanhede,
1346
Ne knyght in armes to doon an hardy dede,
1347
To stonden in grace of his lady deere,
1348
Than hadde this preest this soory craft to leere.
1349
And to the chanoun thus he spak and seyde:
1350
For love of god, that for us alle deyde,
1351
And as I may deserve it unto yow,
1352
What shal this receite coste? telleth now!
1353
By oure lady, quod this chanon, it is deere,
1354
I warne yow wel; for save I and a frere,
1355
In engelond ther kan no man it make.
1356
No fors, quod he, now, sire, for goddes sake,
1357
What shal I paye? telleth me, I preye.
1358
Ywis, quod he, it is ful deere, I seye.
1359
Sire, at o word, if that thee list it have,
1360
Ye shul paye fourty pound, so God me save! Page 222
1361
And nere the freendshipe that ye dide er this
1362
To me, ye sholde paye moore, ywis.
1363
This preest the somme of fourty pound anon
1364
Of nobles fette, and took hem everichon
1365
To this chanoun, for this ilke receite.
1366
Al his werkyng nas but fraude and deceite.
1367
Sire preest, he seyde, I kepe han no loos
1368
Of my craft, for I wolde it kept were cloos;
1369
And, as ye love me, kepeth it secree.
1370
For, and men knewen al my soutiltee,
1371
By god, they wolden han so greet envye
1372
To me, by cause of my philosophye,
1373
I sholde be deed; ther were noon oother weye.
1374
God it forbeede, quod the preest, what sey ye?
1375
Yet hadde I levere spenden al the good
1376
Which that I have, and elles wexe I wood,
1377
Than that ye sholden falle in swich mescheef.
1378
For youre good wyl, sire, have ye right good preef,
1379
Quod the chanoun, and farwel, grant mercy!
1380
He wente his wey, and never the preest hym sy
1381
After that day; and whan that this preest shoolde
1382
Maken assay, at swich tyme as he wolde,
1383
Of this receit, farwel! it wolde nat be.
1384
Lo, thus byjaped and bigiled was he!
1385
Thus maketh he his introduccioun,
1386
To brynge folk to hir destruccioun.
1387
Considereth, sires, how that, in ech estaat,
1388
Bitwixe men and gold ther is debaat
1389
So ferforth that unnethes is ther noon.
1390
This multiplying blent so many oon
1391
That in good feith I trowe that it bee
1392
The cause grettest of swich scarsetee.
1393
Philosophres speken so mystily
1394
In this craft that men kan nat come therby,
1395
For any wit that men han now-a-dayes.
1396
They mowe wel chiteren as doon thise jayes,
1397
And in hir termes sette hir lust and peyne,
1398
But to hir purpos shul they nevere atteyne.
1399
A man may lightly lerne, if he have aught,
1400
To multiplie, and brynge his good to naught!
1401
Lo! swich a lucre is in this lusty game,
1402
A mannes myrthe it wol turne unto grame,
1403
And empten also grete and hevye purses,
1404
And maken folk for to purchacen curses
1405
Of hem that han hir good therto ylent.
1406
O! fy, for shame! they that han been brent,
1407
Allas! kan they nat flee the fires heete?
1408
Ye that it use, I rede ye it leete,
1409
Lest ye lese al; for bet than nevere is late.
1410
Nevere to thryve were to long a date.
1411
Though ye prolle ay, ye shul it nevere fynde.
1412
Ye been as boold as is bayard the blynde,
1413
That blondreth forth, and peril casteth noon.
1414
He is as boold to renne agayn a stoon
1415
As for to goon bisides in the weye.
1416
So faren ye that multiplie, I seye.
1417
If that youre eyen kan nat seen aright,
1418
Looke that youre mynde lakke noght his sight.
1419
For though ye looken never so brode and stare,
1420
Ye shul nothyng wynne on that chaffare,
1421
But wasten al that ye may rape and renne.
1422
Withdraweth the fir, lest it to faste brenne;
1423
Medleth namoore with that art, I mene,
1424
For if ye doon, youre thrift is goon ful clene.
1425
And right as swithe I wol yow tellen heere
1426
What philosophres seyn in this mateere.
1427
Lo, thus seith arnold of the newe toun,
1428
As his rosarie maketh mencioun;
1429
He seith right thus, withouten any lye:
1430
Ther may no man mercurie mortifie
1431
But it be with his brother knowlechyng.
1432
How be that he which that first seyde this thyng
1433
Of philosophres fader was, hermes --
1434
He seith how that the dragon, doutelees,
1435
Ne dyeth nat, but if that he be slayn
1436
With his brother; and that is for to sayn,
1437
By the dragon, mercurie, and noon oother
1438
He understood, and brymstoon by his brother,
1439
That out of sol and luna were ydrawe.
1440
And therfore, seyde he, -- taak heede to my sawe --
1441
Lat no man bisye hym this art for to seche,
1442
But if that he th' entencioun and speche
1443
Of philosophres understonde kan;
1444
And if he do, he is a lewed man.
1445
For this science and this konnyng, quod he,
1446
Is of the secree of secrees, pardee.
1447
Also ther was a disciple of plato,
1448
That on a tyme seyde his maister to,
1449
As his book senior wol bere witnesse,
1450
And this was his demande in soothfastnesse:
1451
Telle me the name of the privee stoon?
1452
And plato answerde unto hym anoon,
1453
Take the stoon that titanos men name.
1454
Which is that? quod he. Magnasia is the same,
1455
Seyde plato. Ye, sire, and is it thus?
1456
This is ignotum per ignocius.
1457
What is magnasia, good sire, I yow preye?
1458
It is a water that is maad, I seye,
1459
Of elementes foure, quod plato.
1460
Telle me the roote, good sire, quod he tho,
1461
Of that water, if it be youre wil.
1462
Nay, nay, quod plato, certein, that I nyl.
1463
The philosophres sworn were everychoon Page 223
1464
That they sholden discovere it unto noon,
1465
Ne in no book it write in no manere.
1466
For unto crist it is so lief and deere
1467
That he wol nat that it discovered bee,
1468
But where it liketh to his deitee
1469
Men for t' enspire, and eek for to deffende
1470
Whom that hym liketh; lo, this is the ende.
1471
Thanne conclude I thus, sith that God of hevene
1472
Ne wil nat that the philosophres nevene
1473
How that a man shal come unto this stoon,
1474
I rede, as for the beste, lete it goon.
1475
For whoso maketh God his adversarie,
1476
As for to werken any thyng in contrarie
1477
Of his wil, certes, never shal he thryve,
1478
Thogh that he multiplie terme of his lyve.
1479
And there a poynt; for ended is my tale.
1480
God sende every trewe man boote of his bale!
1481
