Chapter D: Laing Purves (6)

Then came he to the carpentere’s house, And still he stood under the shot window; Unto his breast it raught*, it was so low; *reached And soft he coughed with a semisoun’.* *low tone “What do ye, honeycomb, sweet Alisoun? My faire bird, my sweet cinamome*, *cinnamon, sweet spice Awaken, leman* mine, and speak to me. *mistress Full little thinke ye upon my woe, That for your love I sweat *there as* I go. *wherever No wonder is that I do swelt* and sweat. *faint I mourn as doth a lamb after the teat Y-wis*, leman, I have such love-longing, *certainly That like a turtle* true is my mourning. *turtle-dove I may not eat, no more than a maid.” “Go from the window, thou jack fool,” she said: “As help me God, it will not be, ‘come ba* me.’ *kiss I love another, else I were to blame”, Well better than thee, by Jesus, Absolon. Go forth thy way, or I will cast a stone; And let me sleep; *a twenty devil way*. *twenty devils take ye!* “Alas!” quoth Absolon, “and well away! That true love ever was so ill beset: Then kiss me, since that it may be no bet*, *better For Jesus’ love, and for the love of me.” “Wilt thou then go thy way therewith?” , quoth she. “Yea, certes, leman,” quoth this Absolon. “Then make thee ready,” quoth she, “I come anon.” [And unto Nicholas she said *full still*: *in a low voice* “Now peace, and thou shalt laugh anon thy fill.”]<36> This Absolon down set him on his knees, And said; “I am a lord at all degrees: For after this I hope there cometh more; Leman, thy grace, and, sweete bird, thine ore.*” *favour The window she undid, and that in haste. “Have done,” quoth she, “come off, and speed thee fast, Lest that our neighebours should thee espy.” Then Absolon gan wipe his mouth full dry. Dark was the night as pitch or as the coal, And at the window she put out her hole, And Absolon him fell ne bet ne werse, But with his mouth he kiss’d her naked erse Full savourly. When he was ware of this, Aback he start, and thought it was amiss; For well he wist a woman hath no beard. He felt a thing all rough, and long y-hair’d, And saide; “Fy, alas! what have I do?” “Te he!” quoth she, and clapt the window to; And Absolon went forth at sorry pace. “A beard, a beard,” said Hendy Nicholas; “By God’s corpus, this game went fair and well.” This silly Absolon heard every deal*, *word And on his lip he gan for anger bite; And to himself he said, “I shall thee quite*. *requite, be even with Who rubbeth now, who frotteth* now his lips *rubs With dust, with sand, with straw, with cloth, with chips, But Absolon? that saith full oft, “Alas! My soul betake I unto Sathanas, But me were lever* than all this town,” quoth he *rather I this despite awroken* for to be. *revenged Alas! alas! that I have been y-blent*.” *deceived His hote love is cold, and all y-quent.* *quenched For from that time that he had kiss’d her erse, Of paramours he *sette not a kers,* *cared not a rush* For he was healed of his malady; Full often paramours he gan defy, And weep as doth a child that hath been beat. A softe pace he went over the street Unto a smith, men callen Dan* Gerveis, *master That in his forge smithed plough-harness; He sharped share and culter busily. This Absolon knocked all easily, And said; “Undo, Gerveis, and that anon.” “What, who art thou?” “It is I, Absolon.” “What? Absolon, what? Christe’s sweete tree*, *cross Why rise so rath*? hey! Benedicite, *early What aileth you? some gay girl,<37> God it wote, Hath brought you thus upon the viretote:<38> By Saint Neot, ye wot well what I mean.” This Absolon he raughte* not a bean *recked, cared Of all his play; no word again he gaf*, *spoke For he had more tow on his distaff<39> Than Gerveis knew, and saide; “Friend so dear, That hote culter in the chimney here Lend it to me, I have therewith to don*: *do I will it bring again to thee full soon.” Gerveis answered; “Certes, were it gold, Or in a poke* nobles all untold, *purse Thou shouldst it have, as I am a true smith. Hey! Christe’s foot, what will ye do therewith?” “Thereof,” quoth Absolon, “be as be may; I shall well tell it thee another day:” And caught the culter by the colde stele*. *handle Full soft out at the door he gan to steal, And went unto the carpentere’s wall He coughed first, and knocked therewithal Upon the window, light as he did ere*. *before <40> This Alison answered; “Who is there That knocketh so? I warrant him a thief.” “Nay, nay,” quoth he, “God wot, my sweete lefe*, *love I am thine Absolon, my own darling. Of gold,” quoth he, “I have thee brought a ring, My mother gave it me, so God me save! Full fine it is, and thereto well y-grave*: *engraved This will I give to thee, if thou me kiss.” Now Nicholas was risen up to piss, And thought he would *amenden all the jape*; *improve the joke* He shoulde kiss his erse ere that he scape: And up the window did he hastily, And out his erse he put full privily Over the buttock, to the haunche bone. And therewith spake this clerk, this Absolon, “Speak, sweete bird, I know not where thou art.” This Nicholas anon let fly a fart, As great as it had been a thunder dent*; *peal, clap That with the stroke he was well nigh y-blent*; *blinded But he was ready with his iron hot, And Nicholas amid the erse he smote. Off went the skin an handbreadth all about. The hote culter burned so his tout*, *breech That for the smart he weened* he would die; *thought As he were wood*, for woe he gan to cry, *mad “Help! water, water, help for Godde’s heart!”

This carpenter out of his slumber start, And heard one cry “Water,” as he were wood*, *mad And thought, “Alas! now cometh Noe’s flood.” He sat him up withoute wordes mo’ And with his axe he smote the cord in two; And down went all; he found neither to sell Nor bread nor ale, till he came to the sell*, *threshold <41> Upon the floor, and there in swoon he lay. Up started Alison and Nicholay, And cried out an “harow!” <15> in the street. The neighbours alle, bothe small and great In ranne, for to gauren* on this man, *stare That yet in swoone lay, both pale and wan: For with the fall he broken had his arm. But stand he must unto his owen harm, For when he spake, he was anon borne down With Hendy Nicholas and Alisoun. They told to every man that he was wood*; *mad He was aghaste* so of Noe’s flood, *afraid Through phantasy, that of his vanity He had y-bought him kneading-tubbes three, And had them hanged in the roof above; And that he prayed them for Godde’s love To sitten in the roof for company. The folk gan laughen at his phantasy. Into the roof they kyken* and they gape, *peep, look. And turned all his harm into a jape*. *jest For whatsoe’er this carpenter answer’d, It was for nought, no man his reason heard. With oathes great he was so sworn adown, That he was holden wood in all the town. For every clerk anon right held with other; They said, “The man was wood, my leve* brother;” *dear And every wight gan laughen at his strife. Thus swived* was the carpentere’s wife, *enjoyed For all his keeping* and his jealousy; *care And Absolon hath kiss’d her nether eye; And Nicholas is scalded in the tout. This tale is done, and God save all the rout*. *company

Notes to the Miller’s Tale

1. Almagest: The book of Ptolemy the astronomer, which formed the canon of astrological science in the middle ages.

2. Astrolabe: “Astrelagour,” “astrelabore”; a mathematical instrument for taking the altitude of the sun or stars.

3. “Augrim” is a corruption of algorithm, the Arabian term for numeration; “augrim stones,” therefore were probably marked with numerals, and used as counters.

4. Angelus ad virginem: The Angel’s salutation to Mary; Luke i. 28. It was the “Ave Maria” of the Catholic Church service.

5. Cato: Though Chaucer may have referred to the famous Censor, more probably the reference is merely to the “Moral Distichs,” which go under his name, though written after his time; and in a supplement to which the quoted passage may be found.

6. Barm-cloth: apron; from Anglo-Saxon “barme,” bosom or lap.

7. Volupere: Head-gear, kerchief; from French, “envelopper,” to wrap up.

8. Popelet: Puppet; but chiefly; young wench.

9. Noble: nobles were gold coins of especial purity and brightness; “Ex auro nobilissimi, unde nobilis vocatus,” (made from the noblest (purest) gold, and therefore called nobles) says Vossius.

10. Yern: Shrill, lively; German, “gern,” willingly, cheerfully.

11. Braket: bragget, a sweet drink made of honey, spices, &c. In some parts of the country, a drink made from honeycomb, after the honey is extracted, is still called “bragwort.”

12. Piggesnie: a fond term, like “my duck;” from Anglo-Saxon, “piga,” a young maid; but Tyrwhitt associates it with the Latin, “ocellus,” little eye, a fondling term, and suggests that the “pigs- eye,” which is very small, was applied in the same sense. Davenport and Butler both use the word pigsnie, the first for “darling,” the second literally for “eye;” and Bishop Gardner, “On True Obedience,” in his address to the reader, says: “How softly she was wont to chirpe him under the chin, and kiss him; how prettily she could talk to him (how doth my sweet heart, what saith now pig’s-eye).”

13. Oseney: A once well-known abbey near Oxford.

14. Trave: travis; a frame in which unruly horses were shod.

15. Harow and Alas: Haro! was an old Norman cry for redress or aid. The “Clameur de Haro” was lately raised, under peculiar circumstances, as the prelude to a legal protest, in Jersey.

16. His shoes were ornamented like the windows of St. Paul’s, especially like the old rose-window.

17. Rise: Twig, bush; German, “Reis,” a twig; “Reisig,” a copse.

18. Chaucer satirises the dancing of Oxford as he did the French of Stratford at Bow.

19. Shot window: A projecting or bow window, whence it was possible shoot at any one approaching the door.

20. Piment: A drink made with wine, honey, and spices.

21. Because she was town-bred, he offered wealth, or money reward, for her love.

22. Parish-clerks, like Absolon, had leading parts in the mysteries or religious plays; Herod was one of these parts, which may have been an object of competition among the amateurs of the period.

23 .”The nighe sly maketh oft time the far lief to be loth”: a proverb; the cunning one near at hand oft makes the loving one afar off to be odious.

24. Kyked: Looked; “keek” is still used in some parts in the sense of “peep.”

25. Saint Frideswide was the patroness of a considerable priory at Oxford, and held there in high repute.

26. Plato, in his “Theatetus,” tells this story of Thales; but it has since appeared in many other forms.

27. Crouche: protect by signing the sign of the cross.

28. Forlore: lost; german, “verloren.”

29. Him that harried Hell: Christ who wasted or subdued hell: in the middle ages, some very active exploits against the prince of darkness and his powers were ascribed by the monkish tale- tellers to the saviour after he had “descended into hell.”

30. According to the old mysteries, Noah’s wife refused to come into the ark, and bade her husband row forth and get him a new wife, because he was leaving her gossips in the town to drown. Shem and his brothers got her shipped by main force; and Noah, coming forward to welcome her, was greeted with a box on the ear.

31. “Him had been lever, I dare well undertake, At thilke time, than all his wethers black, That she had had a ship herself alone.” i.e. “At that time he would have given all his black wethers, if she had had an ark to herself.”

32. “Clum,” like “mum,” a note of silence; but otherwise explained as the humming sound made in repeating prayers; from the Anglo-Saxon, “clumian,” to mutter, speak in an under- tone, keep silence.

33. Curfew-time: Eight in the evening, when, by the law of William the Conqueror, all people were, on ringing of a bell, to extinguish fire and candle, and go to rest; hence the word curfew, from French, “couvre-feu,” cover-fire.

34. Absolon chewed grains: these were grains of Paris, or Paradise; a favourite spice.

35. Under his tongue a true love he bare: some sweet herb; another reading, however, is “a true love-knot,” which may have been of the nature of a charm.

36. The two lines within brackets are not in most of the editions: they are taken from Urry; whether he supplied them or not, they serve the purpose of a necessary explanation.

37. Gay girl: As applied to a young woman of light manners, this euphemistic phrase has enjoyed a wonderful vitality.

38. Viretote: Urry reads “meritote,” and explains it from Spelman as a game in which children made themselves giddy by whirling on ropes. In French, “virer” means to turn; and the explanation may, therefore, suit either reading. In modern slang parlance, Gerveis would probably have said, “on the rampage,” or “on the swing” — not very far from Spelman’s rendering.

39. He had more tow on his distaff: a proverbial saying: he was playing a deeper game, had more serious business on hand.

40. Ere: before; German, “eher.”

41. Sell: sill of the door, threshold; French, “seuil,” Latin, “solum,” the ground.

THE REEVE’S TALE.

THE PROLOGUE.

WHEN folk had laughed all at this nice case Of Absolon and Hendy Nicholas, Diverse folk diversely they said, But for the more part they laugh’d and play’d;* *were diverted And at this tale I saw no man him grieve, But it were only Osewold the Reeve. Because he was of carpenteres craft, A little ire is in his hearte laft*; *left He gan to grudge* and blamed it a lite.** *murmur **little. “So the* I,” quoth he, “full well could I him quite** *thrive **match With blearing* of a proude miller’s eye, *dimming <1> If that me list to speak of ribaldry. But I am old; me list not play for age; <2> Grass time is done, my fodder is now forage. This white top* writeth mine olde years; *head Mine heart is also moulded* as mine hairs; *grown mouldy And I do fare as doth an open-erse*; *medlar <3> That ilke* fruit is ever longer werse, *same Till it be rotten *in mullok or in stre*. *on the ground or in straw* We olde men, I dread, so fare we; Till we be rotten, can we not be ripe; We hop* away, while that the world will pipe; *dance For in our will there sticketh aye a nail, To have an hoary head and a green tail, As hath a leek; for though our might be gone, Our will desireth folly ever-in-one*: *continually For when we may not do, then will we speak, Yet in our ashes cold does fire reek.* *smoke<4> Four gledes* have we, which I shall devise**, *coals ** describe Vaunting, and lying, anger, covetise*. *covetousness These foure sparks belongen unto eld. Our olde limbes well may be unweld*, *unwieldy But will shall never fail us, that is sooth. And yet have I alway a coltes tooth,<5> As many a year as it is passed and gone Since that my tap of life began to run; For sickerly*, when I was born, anon *certainly Death drew the tap of life, and let it gon: And ever since hath so the tap y-run, Till that almost all empty is the tun. The stream of life now droppeth on the chimb.<6> The silly tongue well may ring and chime Of wretchedness, that passed is full yore*: *long With olde folk, save dotage, is no more. <7>

When that our Host had heard this sermoning, He gan to speak as lordly as a king, And said; “To what amounteth all this wit? What? shall we speak all day of holy writ? The devil made a Reeve for to preach, As of a souter* a shipman, or a leach**. *cobbler <8> Say forth thy tale, and tarry not the time: **surgeon <9> Lo here is Deptford, and ’tis half past prime:<10> Lo Greenwich, where many a shrew is in. It were high time thy tale to begin.”

“Now, sirs,” quoth then this Osewold the Reeve, I pray you all that none of you do grieve, Though I answer, and somewhat set his hove*, *hood <11> For lawful is *force off with force to shove.* *to repel force This drunken miller hath y-told us here by force* How that beguiled was a carpentere, Paraventure* in scorn, for I am one: *perhaps And, by your leave, I shall him quite anon. Right in his churlish termes will I speak, I pray to God his necke might to-break. He can well in mine eye see a stalk, But in his own he cannot see a balk.”<12>

Notes to the Prologue to the Reeves Tale.

1. “With blearing of a proude miller’s eye”: dimming his eye; playing off a joke on him.

2. “Me list not play for age”: age takes away my zest for drollery.

3. The medlar, the fruit of the mespilus tree, is only edible when rotten.

4. Yet in our ashes cold does fire reek: “ev’n in our ashes live their wonted fires.”

5. A colt’s tooth; a wanton humour, a relish for pleasure.

6. Chimb: The rim of a barrel where the staves project beyond the head.

7. With olde folk, save dotage, is no more: Dotage is all that is left them; that is, they can only dwell fondly, dote, on the past.

8. Souter: cobbler; Scottice, “sutor;”’ from Latin, “suere,” to sew.

9. “Ex sutore medicus” (a surgeon from a cobbler) and “ex sutore nauclerus” (a seaman or pilot from a cobbler) were both proverbial expressions in the Middle Ages.

10. Half past prime: half-way between prime and tierce; about half-past seven in the morning.

11. Set his hove; like “set their caps;” as in the description of the Manciple in the Prologue, who “set their aller cap”. “Hove” or “houfe,” means “hood;” and the phrase signifies to be even with, outwit.

12. The illustration of the mote and the beam, from Matthew.

THE TALE.<1>

At Trompington, not far from Cantebrig,* *Cambridge There goes a brook, and over that a brig, Upon the whiche brook there stands a mill: And this is *very sooth* that I you tell. *complete truth* A miller was there dwelling many a day, As any peacock he was proud and gay: Pipen he could, and fish, and nettes bete*, *prepare And turne cups, and wrestle well, and shete*. *shoot Aye by his belt he bare a long pavade*, *poniard And of his sword full trenchant was the blade. A jolly popper* bare he in his pouch; *dagger There was no man for peril durst him touch. A Sheffield whittle* bare he in his hose. *small knife Round was his face, and camuse* was his nose. *flat <2> As pilled* as an ape’s was his skull. *peeled, bald. He was a market-beter* at the full. *brawler There durste no wight hand upon him legge*, *lay That he ne swore anon he should abegge*. *suffer the penalty

A thief he was, for sooth, of corn and meal, And that a sly, and used well to steal. His name was *hoten deinous Simekin* *called “Disdainful Simkin”* A wife he hadde, come of noble kin: The parson of the town her father was. With her he gave full many a pan of brass, For that Simkin should in his blood ally. She was y-foster’d in a nunnery: For Simkin woulde no wife, as he said, But she were well y-nourish’d, and a maid, To saven his estate and yeomanry: And she was proud, and pert as is a pie*. *magpie A full fair sight it was to see them two; On holy days before her would he go With his tippet* y-bound about his head; *hood And she came after in a gite* of red, *gown <3> And Simkin hadde hosen of the same. There durste no wight call her aught but Dame: None was so hardy, walking by that way, That with her either durste *rage or play*, *use freedom* *But if* he would be slain by Simekin *unless With pavade, or with knife, or bodekin. For jealous folk be per’lous evermo’: Algate* they would their wives *wende so*. *unless *so behave* And eke for she was somewhat smutterlich*, *dirty She was as dign* as water in a ditch, *nasty And all so full of hoker*, and bismare**. *ill-nature **abusive speech Her thoughte that a lady should her spare*, *not judge her hardly What for her kindred, and her nortelrie* *nurturing, education That she had learned in the nunnery.

One daughter hadde they betwixt them two Of twenty year, withouten any mo, Saving a child that was of half year age, In cradle it lay, and was a proper page.* *boy This wenche thick and well y-growen was, With camuse* nose, and eyen gray as glass; *flat With buttocks broad, and breastes round and high; But right fair was her hair, I will not lie. The parson of the town, for she was fair, In purpose was to make of her his heir Both of his chattels and his messuage, And *strange he made it* of her marriage. *he made it a matter His purpose was for to bestow her high of difficulty* Into some worthy blood of ancestry. For holy Church’s good may be dispended* *spent On holy Church’s blood that is descended. Therefore he would his holy blood honour Though that he holy Churche should devour.

Great soken* hath this miller, out of doubt, *toll taken for grinding With wheat and malt, of all the land about; And namely* there was a great college *especially Men call the Soler Hall at Cantebrege,<4> There was their wheat and eke their malt y-ground. And on a day it happed in a stound*, *suddenly Sick lay the manciple* of a malady, *steward <5> Men *weened wisly* that he shoulde die. *thought certainly* For which this miller stole both meal and corn An hundred times more than beforn. For theretofore he stole but courteously, But now he was a thief outrageously. For which the warden chid and made fare*, *fuss But thereof *set the miller not a tare*; *he cared not a rush* He *crack’d his boast,* and swore it was not so. *talked big*

Then were there younge poore scholars two, That dwelled in the hall of which I say; Testif* they were, and lusty for to play; *headstrong <6> And only for their mirth and revelry Upon the warden busily they cry, To give them leave for but a *little stound*, *short time* To go to mill, and see their corn y-ground: And hardily* they durste lay their neck, *boldly The miller should not steal them half a peck Of corn by sleight, nor them by force bereave* *take away And at the last the warden give them leave: John hight the one, and Alein hight the other, Of one town were they born, that highte Strother,<7> Far in the North, I cannot tell you where. This Alein he made ready all his gear, And on a horse the sack he cast anon: Forth went Alein the clerk, and also John, With good sword and with buckler by their side. John knew the way, him needed not no guide, And at the mill the sack adown he lay’th.

Alein spake first; “All hail, Simon, in faith, How fares thy faire daughter, and thy wife.” “Alein, welcome,” quoth Simkin, “by my life, And John also: how now, what do ye here?” “By God, Simon,” quoth John, “need has no peer*. *equal Him serve himself behoves that has no swain*, *servant Or else he is a fool, as clerkes sayn. Our manciple I hope* he will be dead, *expect So workes aye the wanges* in his head: *cheek-teeth <8> And therefore is I come, and eke Alein, To grind our corn and carry it home again: I pray you speed us hence as well ye may.” “It shall be done,” quoth Simkin, “by my fay. What will ye do while that it is in hand?” “By God, right by the hopper will I stand,” Quoth John, “and see how that the corn goes in. Yet saw I never, by my father’s kin, How that the hopper wagges to and fro.” Alein answered, “John, and wilt thou so? Then will I be beneathe, by my crown, And see how that the meale falls adown Into the trough, that shall be my disport*: *amusement For, John, in faith I may be of your sort; I is as ill a miller as is ye.”

This miller smiled at their nicety*, *simplicity And thought, “All this is done but for a wile. They weenen* that no man may them beguile, *think But by my thrift yet shall I blear their eye,<9> For all the sleight in their philosophy. The more *quainte knackes* that they make, *odd little tricks* The more will I steal when that I take. Instead of flour yet will I give them bren*. *bran The greatest clerks are not the wisest men, As whilom to the wolf thus spake the mare: <10> Of all their art ne count I not a tare.” Out at the door he went full privily, When that he saw his time, softely. He looked up and down, until he found The clerkes’ horse, there as he stood y-bound Behind the mill, under a levesell:* *arbour<11> And to the horse he went him fair and well, And stripped off the bridle right anon. And when the horse was loose, he gan to gon Toward the fen, where wilde mares run, Forth, with “Wehee!” through thick and eke through thin. This miller went again, no word he said, But did his note*, and with these clerkes play’d, *business <12> Till that their corn was fair and well y-ground. And when the meal was sacked and y-bound, Then John went out, and found his horse away, And gan to cry, “Harow, and well-away! Our horse is lost: Alein, for Godde’s bones, Step on thy feet; come off, man, all at once: Alas! our warden has his palfrey lorn.*” *lost This Alein all forgot, both meal and corn; All was out of his mind his husbandry*. *careful watch over “What, which way is he gone?” he gan to cry. the corn* The wife came leaping inward at a renne*, *run She said; “Alas! your horse went to the fen With wilde mares, as fast as he could go. Unthank* come on his hand that bound him so *ill luck, a curse And his that better should have knit the rein.” “Alas!” quoth John, “Alein, for Christes pain Lay down thy sword, and I shall mine also. I is full wight*, God wate**, as is a roe. *swift **knows By Godde’s soul he shall not scape us bathe*. *both <13> Why n’ had thou put the capel* in the lathe**? *horse<14> **barn Ill hail, Alein, by God thou is a fonne.*” *fool These silly clerkes have full fast y-run Toward the fen, both Alein and eke John; And when the miller saw that they were gone, He half a bushel of their flour did take, And bade his wife go knead it in a cake. He said; I trow, the clerkes were afeard, Yet can a miller *make a clerkes beard,* *cheat a scholar* <15> For all his art: yea, let them go their way! Lo where they go! yea, let the children play: They get him not so lightly, by my crown.” These silly clerkes runnen up and down With “Keep, keep; stand, stand; jossa*, warderere. *turn Go whistle thou, and I shall keep* him here.” *catch But shortly, till that it was very night They coulde not, though they did all their might, Their capel catch, he ran alway so fast: Till in a ditch they caught him at the last.

Weary and wet, as beastes in the rain, Comes silly John, and with him comes Alein. “Alas,” quoth John, “the day that I was born! Now are we driv’n till hething* and till scorn. *mockery Our corn is stol’n, men will us fonnes* call, *fools Both the warden, and eke our fellows all, And namely* the miller, well-away!” *especially Thus plained John, as he went by the way Toward the mill, and Bayard* in his hand. *the bay horse The miller sitting by the fire he fand*. *found For it was night, and forther* might they not, *go their way But for the love of God they him besought Of herberow* and ease, for their penny. *lodging The miller said again,” If there be any, Such as it is, yet shall ye have your part. Mine house is strait, but ye have learned art; Ye can by arguments maken a place A mile broad, of twenty foot of space. Let see now if this place may suffice, Or make it room with speech, as is your guise.*” *fashion “Now, Simon,” said this John, “by Saint Cuthberd Aye is thou merry, and that is fair answer’d. I have heard say, man shall take of two things, Such as he findes, or such as he brings. But specially I pray thee, hoste dear, Gar <16> us have meat and drink, and make us cheer, And we shall pay thee truly at the full: With empty hand men may not hawkes tull*. *allure Lo here our silver ready for to spend.”

This miller to the town his daughter send For ale and bread, and roasted them a goose, And bound their horse, he should no more go loose: And them in his own chamber made a bed. With sheetes and with chalons* fair y-spread, *blankets<17> Not from his owen bed ten foot or twelve: His daughter had a bed all by herselve, Right in the same chamber *by and by*: *side by side* It might no better be, and cause why, There was no *roomer herberow* in the place. *roomier lodging* They suppen, and they speaken of solace, And drinken ever strong ale at the best. Aboute midnight went they all to rest. Well had this miller varnished his head; Full pale he was, fordrunken, and *nought red*. *without his wits* He yoxed*, and he spake thorough the nose, *hiccuped As he were in the quakke*, or in the pose**. *grunting **catarrh To bed he went, and with him went his wife, As any jay she light was and jolife,* *jolly So was her jolly whistle well y-wet. The cradle at her beddes feet was set, To rock, and eke to give the child to suck. And when that drunken was all in the crock* *pitcher<18> To bedde went the daughter right anon, To bedde went Alein, and also John. There was no more; needed them no dwale.<19> This miller had, so wisly* bibbed ale, *certainly That as a horse he snorted in his sleep, Nor of his tail behind he took no keep*. *heed His wife bare him a burdoun*, a full strong; *bass <20> Men might their routing* hearen a furlong. *snoring

The wenche routed eke for company. Alein the clerk, that heard this melody, He poked John, and saide: “Sleepest thou? Heardest thou ever such a song ere now? Lo what a compline<21> is y-mell* them all. *among A wilde fire upon their bodies fall, Who hearken’d ever such a ferly* thing? *strange <22> Yea, they shall have the flow’r of ill ending! This longe night there *tides me* no rest. *comes to me* But yet no force*, all shall be for the best. *matter For, John,” said he, “as ever may I thrive, If that I may, yon wenche will I swive*. *enjoy carnally Some easement* has law y-shapen** us *satisfaction **provided For, John, there is a law that sayeth thus, That if a man in one point be aggriev’d, That in another he shall be relievd. Our corn is stol’n, soothly it is no nay, And we have had an evil fit to-day. And since I shall have none amendement Against my loss, I will have easement: By Godde’s soul, it shall none, other be.” This John answer’d; Alein, *avise thee*: *have a care* The miller is a perilous man,” he said, “And if that he out of his sleep abraid*, *awaked He mighte do us both a villainy*.” *mischief Alein answer’d; “I count him not a fly. And up he rose, and by the wench he crept. This wenche lay upright, and fast she slept, Till he so nigh was, ere she might espy, That it had been too late for to cry: And, shortly for to say, they were at one. Now play, Alein, for I will speak of John.

This John lay still a furlong way <23> or two, And to himself he made ruth* and woe. *wail “Alas!” quoth he, “this is a wicked jape*; *trick Now may I say, that I is but an ape. Yet has my fellow somewhat for his harm; He has the miller’s daughter in his arm: He auntred* him, and hath his needes sped, *adventured And I lie as a draff-sack in my bed; And when this jape is told another day, I shall be held a daffe* or a cockenay <24> *coward I will arise, and auntre* it, by my fay: *attempt Unhardy is unsely, <25> as men say.” And up he rose, and softely he went Unto the cradle, and in his hand it hent*, *took And bare it soft unto his beddes feet. Soon after this the wife *her routing lete*, *stopped snoring* And gan awake, and went her out to piss And came again and gan the cradle miss And groped here and there, but she found none. “Alas!” quoth she, “I had almost misgone I had almost gone to the clerkes’ bed. Ey! Benedicite, then had I foul y-sped.” And forth she went, till she the cradle fand. She groped alway farther with her hand And found the bed, and *thoughte not but good* *had no suspicion* Because that the cradle by it stood, And wist not where she was, for it was derk; But fair and well she crept in by the clerk, And lay full still, and would have caught a sleep. Within a while this John the Clerk up leap And on this goode wife laid on full sore; So merry a fit had she not had *full yore*. *for a long time* He pricked hard and deep, as he were mad.

This jolly life have these two clerkes had, Till that the thirde cock began to sing. Alein wax’d weary in the morrowing, For he had swonken* all the longe night, *laboured And saide; “Farewell, Malkin, my sweet wight. The day is come, I may no longer bide, But evermore, where so I go or ride, I is thine owen clerk, so have I hele.*” *health “Now, deare leman*,” quoth she, “go, fare wele: *sweetheart But ere thou go, one thing I will thee tell. When that thou wendest homeward by the mill, Right at the entry of the door behind Thou shalt a cake of half a bushel find, That was y-maked of thine owen meal, Which that I help’d my father for to steal. And goode leman, God thee save and keep.” And with that word she gan almost to weep. Alein uprose and thought, “Ere the day daw I will go creepen in by my fellaw:” And found the cradle with his hand anon. “By God!” thought he, “all wrong I have misgone: My head is *totty of my swink* to-night, *giddy from my labour* That maketh me that I go not aright. I wot well by the cradle I have misgo’; Here lie the miller and his wife also.” And forth he went a twenty devil way Unto the bed, there as the miller lay. He ween’d* t’ have creeped by his fellow John, *thought And by the miller in he crept anon, And caught him by the neck, and gan him shake, And said; “Thou John, thou swines-head, awake For Christes soul, and hear a noble game! For by that lord that called is Saint Jame, As I have thries in this shorte night Swived the miller’s daughter bolt-upright, While thou hast as a coward lain aghast*.” *afraid “Thou false harlot,” quoth the miller, “hast? Ah, false traitor, false clerk,” quoth he, “Thou shalt be dead, by Godde’s dignity, Who durste be so bold to disparage* *disgrace My daughter, that is come of such lineage?” And by the throate-ball* he caught Alein, *Adam’s apple And he him hent* dispiteously** again, *seized **angrily And on the nose he smote him with his fist; Down ran the bloody stream upon his breast: And in the floor with nose and mouth all broke They wallow, as do two pigs in a poke. And up they go, and down again anon, Till that the miller spurned* on a stone, *stumbled And down he backward fell upon his wife, That wiste nothing of this nice strife: For she was fall’n asleep a little wight* *while With John the clerk, that waked had all night: And with the fall out of her sleep she braid*. *woke “Help, holy cross of Bromeholm,” <26> she said; “In manus tuas! <27> Lord, to thee I call. Awake, Simon, the fiend is on me fall; Mine heart is broken; help; I am but dead: There li’th one on my womb and on mine head. Help, Simkin, for these false clerks do fight” This John start up as fast as e’er he might, And groped by the walles to and fro To find a staff; and she start up also, And knew the estres* better than this John, *apartment And by the wall she took a staff anon: And saw a little shimmering of a light, For at an hole in shone the moone bright, And by that light she saw them both the two, But sickerly* she wist not who was who, *certainly But as she saw a white thing in her eye. And when she gan this white thing espy, She ween’d* the clerk had wear’d a volupere**; *supposed **night-cap And with the staff she drew aye nere* and nere*, *nearer And ween’d to have hit this Alein at the full, And smote the miller on the pilled* skull; *bald That down he went, and cried,” Harow! I die.” These clerkes beat him well, and let him lie, And greithen* them, and take their horse anon, *make ready, dress And eke their meal, and on their way they gon: And at the mill door eke they took their cake Of half a bushel flour, full well y-bake.

Thus is the proude miller well y-beat, And hath y-lost the grinding of the wheat; And payed for the supper *every deal* *every bit Of Alein and of John, that beat him well; His wife is swived, and his daughter als*; *also Lo, such it is a miller to be false. And therefore this proverb is said full sooth, “*Him thar not winnen well* that evil do’th, *he deserves not to gain* A guiler shall himself beguiled be:” And God that sitteth high in majesty Save all this Company, both great and smale. Thus have I quit* the Miller in my tale. *made myself quits with

Notes to the Reeve’s Tale

1. The incidents of this tale were much relished in the Middle Ages, and are found under various forms. Boccaccio has told them in the ninth day of his “Decameron”.

2. Camuse: flat; French “camuse”, snub-nosed.

3. Gite: gown or coat; French “jupe.”

4. Soler Hall: the hall or college at Cambridge with the gallery or upper storey; supposed to have been Clare Hall. (Transcribers note: later commentators identify it with King’s Hall, now merged with Trinity College)

5. Manciple: steward; provisioner of the hall. See also note 47 to the prologue to the Tales.

6. Testif: headstrong, wild-brained; French, “entete.”

7. Strother: Tyrwhitt points to Anstruther, in Fife: Mr Wright to the Vale of Langstroth, in the West Riding of Yorkshire. Chaucer has given the scholars a dialect that may have belonged to either district, although it more immediately suggests the more northern of the two. (Transcribers note: later commentators have identified it with a now vanished village near Kirknewton in Northumberland. There was a well-known Alein of Strother in Chaucer’s lifetime.)

8. Wanges: grinders, cheek-teeth; Anglo-Saxon, “Wang,” the cheek; German, “Wange.”

9. See note 1 to the Prologue to the Reeves Tale

10. In the “Cento Novelle Antiche,” the story is told of a mule, which pretends that his name is written on the bottom of his hind foot. The wolf attempts to read it, the mule kills him with a kick in the forehead; and the fox, looking on, remarks that “every man of letters is not wise.” A similar story is told in “Reynard the Fox.”

11. Levesell: an arbour; Anglo-Saxon, “lefe-setl,” leafy seat.

12. Noth: business; German, “Noth,” necessity.

13. Bathe: both; Scottice, “baith.”

14. Capel: horse; Gaelic, “capall;” French, “cheval;” Italian, “cavallo,” from Latin, “caballus.”

15. Make a clerkes beard: cheat a scholar; French, “faire la barbe;” and Boccaccio uses the proverb in the same sense.

16. “Gar” is Scotch for “cause;” some editions read, however, “get us some”.

17. Chalons: blankets, coverlets, made at Chalons in France.

18. Crock: pitcher, cruse; Anglo-Saxon, “crocca;” German, “krug;” hence “crockery.”

19. Dwale: night-shade, Solanum somniferum, given to cause sleep.

20. Burdoun: bass; “burden” of a song. It originally means the drone of a bagpipe; French, “bourdon.”

21. Compline: even-song in the church service; chorus.

22. Ferly: strange. In Scotland, a “ferlie” is an unwonted or remarkable sight.

23. A furlong way: As long as it might take to walk a furlong.

24. Cockenay: a term of contempt, probably borrowed from the kitchen; a cook, in base Latin, being termed “coquinarius.” compare French “coquin,” rascal.

25. Unhardy is unsely: the cowardly is unlucky; “nothing venture, nothing have;” German, “unselig,” unhappy.

26. Holy cross of Bromeholm: A common adjuration at that time; the cross or rood of the priory of Bromholm, in Norfolk, was said to contain part of the real cross and therefore held in high esteem.

27. In manus tuas: Latin, “in your hands”.

THE COOK’S TALE.

THE PROLOGUE.

THE Cook of London, while the Reeve thus spake, For joy he laugh’d and clapp’d him on the back: “Aha!” quoth he, “for Christes passion, This Miller had a sharp conclusion, Upon this argument of herbergage.* *lodging Well saide Solomon in his language, Bring thou not every man into thine house, For harbouring by night is perilous. *Well ought a man avised for to be* *a man should take good heed* Whom that he brought into his privity. I pray to God to give me sorrow and care If ever, since I highte* Hodge of Ware, *was called Heard I a miller better *set a-work*; *handled He had a jape* of malice in the derk. *trick But God forbid that we should stinte* here, *stop And therefore if ye will vouchsafe to hear A tale of me, that am a poore man, I will you tell as well as e’er I can A little jape that fell in our city.”

Our Host answer’d and said; “I grant it thee. Roger, tell on; and look that it be good, For many a pasty hast thou letten blood, And many a Jack of Dover<1> hast thou sold, That had been twice hot and twice cold. Of many a pilgrim hast thou Christe’s curse, For of thy parsley yet fare they the worse. That they have eaten in thy stubble goose: For in thy shop doth many a fly go loose. Now tell on, gentle Roger, by thy name, But yet I pray thee be not *wroth for game*; *angry with my jesting* A man may say full sooth in game and play.” “Thou sayst full sooth,” quoth Roger, “by my fay; But sooth play quad play,<2> as the Fleming saith, And therefore, Harry Bailly, by thy faith, Be thou not wroth, else we departe* here, *part company Though that my tale be of an hostelere.* *innkeeper But natheless, I will not tell it yet, But ere we part, y-wis* thou shalt be quit.”<3> *assuredly And therewithal he laugh’d and made cheer,<4> And told his tale, as ye shall after hear.

Notes to the Prologue to the Cook’s Tale

1. Jack of Dover: an article of cookery. (Transcriber’s note: suggested by some commentators to be a kind of pie, and by others to be a fish)

2. Sooth play quad play: true jest is no jest.

3. It may be remembered that each pilgrim was bound to tell two stories; one on the way to Canterbury, the other returning.

4. Made cheer: French, “fit bonne mine;” put on a pleasant countenance.

THE TALE.

A prentice whilom dwelt in our city, And of a craft of victuallers was he: Galliard* he was, as goldfinch in the shaw**, *lively **grove Brown as a berry, a proper short fellaw: With lockes black, combed full fetisly.* *daintily And dance he could so well and jollily, That he was called Perkin Revellour. He was as full of love and paramour, As is the honeycomb of honey sweet; Well was the wenche that with him might meet. At every bridal would he sing and hop; He better lov’d the tavern than the shop. For when there any riding was in Cheap,<1> Out of the shoppe thither would he leap, And, till that he had all the sight y-seen, And danced well, he would not come again; And gather’d him a meinie* of his sort, *company of fellows To hop and sing, and make such disport: And there they *sette steven* for to meet *made appointment* To playen at the dice in such a street. For in the towne was there no prentice That fairer coulde cast a pair of dice Than Perkin could; and thereto *he was free *he spent money liberally Of his dispence, in place of privity.* where he would not be seen* That found his master well in his chaffare,* *merchandise For oftentime he found his box full bare. For, soothely, a prentice revellour, That haunteth dice, riot, and paramour, His master shall it in his shop abie*, *suffer for All* have he no part of the minstrelsy. *although For theft and riot they be convertible, All can they play on *gitern or ribible.* *guitar or rebeck* Revel and truth, as in a low degree, They be full wroth* all day, as men may see. *at variance

This jolly prentice with his master bode, Till he was nigh out of his prenticehood, All were he snubbed* both early and late, *rebuked And sometimes led with revel to Newgate. But at the last his master him bethought, Upon a day when he his paper<2> sought, Of a proverb, that saith this same word; Better is rotten apple out of hoard, Than that it should rot all the remenant: So fares it by a riotous servant; It is well lesse harm to let him pace*, *pass, go Than he shend* all the servants in the place. *corrupt Therefore his master gave him a quittance, And bade him go, with sorrow and mischance. And thus this jolly prentice had his leve*: *desire Now let him riot all the night, or leave*. *refrain And, for there is no thief without a louke,<3> That helpeth him to wasten and to souk* *spend Of that he bribe* can, or borrow may, *steal Anon he sent his bed and his array Unto a compere* of his owen sort, *comrade That loved dice, and riot, and disport; And had a wife, that held *for countenance* *for appearances* A shop, and swived* for her sustenance. *prostituted herself . . . . . . . <4>

Notes to the Cook’s Tale

1. Cheapside, where jousts were sometimes held, and which was the great scene of city revels and processions.

2. His paper: his certificate of completion of his apprenticeship.

3. Louke: The precise meaning of the word is unknown, but it is doubtless included in the cant term “pal”.

4. The Cook’s Tale is unfinished in all the manuscripts; but in some, of minor authority, the Cook is made to break off his tale, because “it is so foul,” and to tell the story of Gamelyn, on which Shakespeare’s “As You Like It” is founded. The story is not Chaucer’s, and is different in metre, and inferior in composition to the Tales. It is supposed that Chaucer expunged the Cook’s Tale for the same reason that made him on his death- bed lament that he had written so much “ribaldry.”

THE MAN OF LAW’S TALE.

THE PROLOGUE.

Our Hoste saw well that the brighte sun Th’ arc of his artificial day had run The fourthe part, and half an houre more; And, though he were not deep expert in lore, He wist it was the eight-and-twenty day Of April, that is messenger to May; And saw well that the shadow of every tree Was in its length of the same quantity That was the body erect that caused it; And therefore by the shadow he took his wit*, *knowledge That Phoebus, which that shone so clear and bright, Degrees was five-and-forty clomb on height; And for that day, as in that latitude, It was ten of the clock, he gan conclude; And suddenly he plight* his horse about. *pulled <1>

“Lordings,” quoth he, “I warn you all this rout*, *company The fourthe partie of this day is gone. Now for the love of God and of Saint John Lose no time, as farforth as ye may. Lordings, the time wasteth night and day, And steals from us, what privily sleeping, And what through negligence in our waking, As doth the stream, that turneth never again, Descending from the mountain to the plain. Well might Senec, and many a philosopher, Bewaile time more than gold in coffer. For loss of chattels may recover’d be, But loss of time shendeth* us, quoth he. *destroys