?n \*<» ? 
 3 s 
 
 CHAUCER’S 
 
 PROLOGUE, KNIGHT’S TALE, AND 
 NUN’S PRIEST’S TALE 
 
Macmillan’s JElodtr* American ant Engltst) Classics 
 
 A Series of English Texts, edited for use in Elementary and 
 Secondary Schools, with Critical Introductions, Notes, etc. 
 
 i6mo Clotii 25 cents each 
 
 Addison’s Sir Roger de Coverley. 
 Andersen’s Fairy Tales. 
 
 Arabian Nights’ Entertainments. 
 Arnold’s Sonrab and Rustum. 
 
 Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. 
 
 Bacon’s Essays. 
 
 Baker s Out of the North Land. 
 
 Bible (Memorable Passages from). 
 Blackmore’s Lorna Doone. 
 
 Boswell’s Life of Johnson. 
 
 Browning’s Shorter Poems. 
 
 Browning, Mrs., Poems (Selected). 
 Bryant’s Thanatopsis, etc. 
 
 Bulwer’s Last Days of Pompeii. 
 Bunyan’s The Pilgrim’s Progress. 
 Burke’s Speech on Conciliation. 
 
 Burns’ Poems (Selections from). 
 
 Byron’s Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage. 
 Byron’s Shorter Poems. 
 
 Carlyle’s Essay on Burns. 
 
 Carlyle’s Heroes and Hero Worship. 
 Carroll’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonder- 
 land (Illustrated). 
 
 Chaucer’s Prologue and Knight’s Tale. 
 Church's The Story of the Iliad. 
 Church’s The Story of the Odyssey. 
 Coleridge’s The Ancient Mariner. 
 Coopers The Deerslayer. 
 
 Cooper’s The Last of the Mohicans. 
 Cooper’s The Spy. 
 
 Dana’s Two Years Before the Mast. 
 Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe. 
 
 De Quincey’s Confessions of an English 
 Opium-Eater. 
 
 De Quincey’s Joan of Arc, and The Eng- 
 lish Mail-Coach. 
 
 Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, and The 
 Cricket on the Hearth. 
 
 Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities. (Two vols.) 
 Dickens’ David Copperfield. 
 
 Dryden’s Palamon and Arcite. 
 
 Early American Orations, 1760-1824. 
 Edwards’ (Jonathan) Sermons, 
 
 Eliot’s Mill on the Floss. 
 
 Eliot’s Silas Marner. 
 
 Emerson’s Essays. 
 
 Emerson’s Early Poems. 
 
 Emerson s Representative Men. 
 
 English Narrative Poems. 
 
 Epoch-making Papers in l S. History. 
 Franklin’s Autobiography. 
 
 Gaskell’s Cranford. 
 
 Goldsmith’s The Deserted Village, She 
 Stoops to Conquer, and The Gcv - 
 natured Man. 
 
 Goldsmith’s The Vicar of Wakefield. 
 Gray’s Elegy, etc., and Cowper’i John 
 Gilpin, etc. 
 
 Grimm’s Fairy Tales. 
 
 Hale’s The Man Without a Country. 
 Hawthorne’s Grandfather’s Chair. 
 Hawthorne’s Mosses from an Old 
 Manse. 
 
 Hawthorne’s Tanglewood Tales. 
 Hawthorne’s The House of the Seven 
 Gables. 
 
 Hawthorne’s Twice-told Tales (Selections 
 from). 
 
 Hawthorne’s Wonder-Book. 
 
 Holmes’ Poems. 
 
 Homer’s Iliad (Translated). 
 
 Homer’s Odyssey (Translated). 
 
 Hughes’ Tom Brown’s School Days- 
 Huxley’s Selected Essays and Addresses. 
 Irving’s Life of Goldsmith. 
 
 Irving’s Knickerbocker. 
 
 Irving’s The Alhambra. 
 
 Irving’s Sketch Book. 
 
 Irving’s Tales of a Traveller. 
 
 Keary’s Heroes of Asgard. 
 
 Kempis, a: The Imitation of Christ. 
 Kingsley’s The Heroes. 
 
 Lamb’s The Essays of Elia. 
 
 Lamb’s Tales from Shakespeare. 
 Lincoln’s Addresses, Inaugurals, and 
 Letters. 
 
 Longfellow’s Evangeline. 
 
 Longfellow’s Hiawatha. 
 
 Longfellow’s Miles Standish. 
 Longfellow’s Miles Standish and Minoi 
 Poems. 
 
 Longfellow’s Tales of a Wayside Inn. 
 Lowell’s The Vision of Sir Launfal. 
 Lytton’s Last Days of Pompeii. 
 
JHactmllan’s pocket American anti ISngltstj Classics 
 
 A Series of English Texts, edited for use in Elementary and 
 Secondary Schools, with Critical Introductions, Notes, etc. 
 
 i6mo Cloth 25 cents each 
 
 Macaulay’s Essay on Addison. 
 
 Macaulay’s Essay on Hastings. 
 Macaulay’s Essay on Lord Clive. 
 Macaulay’s Essay on Milton. 
 
 Macaulay’s Lays of Ancient Rome. 
 Macaulay’s Life of Samuel Johnson. 
 Malory’s Le Morte d’Arthur. 
 
 Milton’s Comus and Other Poems. 
 Milton’s Paradise Lost, Books I and II. 
 Old English Ballads. 
 
 Old Testament (Selections from). 
 
 Out of the Northland. 
 
 Palgrave’s Golden Treasury. 
 
 Parkman’s Oregon Trail. 
 
 Plutarch’s Lives (Caesar, Brutus, and 
 Mark Antony). 
 
 Poe’s Poems. 
 
 Poe’s Prose Tales (Selections from). 
 Poems, Narrative and Lyrical. 
 
 Pope's Homer’s Iliad. 
 
 Pope’s Homer’s Odyssey. 
 
 Pope’s The Rape of the Lock. 
 
 Rossetti (Christina), Selected Poems. 
 Ruskin’s Sesame and Lilies. 
 Ruskin’sThe Crown of Wild Olive and 
 Oueen of the Air. 
 
 Scott s Ivanhoe. 
 
 Scott's Kenilworth. 
 
 Scott’s Lady of the Lake. 
 
 Scott’s Lav of the Last Minstrel. 
 
 Scott’s Marmion. 
 
 Scott’s Quentin Durward. 
 
 Scott’s The Talisman. 
 
 Select Orations. 
 
 Selected Poems, for required reading in 
 Secondary Schools. 
 
 Shakespeare’s As You Like It. 
 
 Shakespeare’s Hamlet. 
 
 Shakespeare’s Henry V. 
 
 Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar. 
 Shakespeare’s King Lear. 
 Shakespeare's Macbeth. 
 
 Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s 
 Dream. 
 
 Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice. 
 Shakespeare’s Richard II. 
 Shakespeare’s The Tempest. 
 Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night. 
 
 Shelley and Keats : Poems. 
 
 Sheridan’s The Rivals and The School 
 for Scandal. 
 
 Southern Poets : Selections. 
 
 Southern Orators : Selections. 
 
 Spenser’s Faerie Queene, Book I. 
 Stevenson’s Kidnapped. 
 
 Stevenson’s The Master of Ballantrae. 
 Stevenson’s Travels with a Donkey, and 
 An Inland Voyage. 
 
 Stevenson's Treasure Island. 
 
 Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels. 
 
 Tennyson's Idylls of the King. 
 Tennyson’s In Memoriam. 
 
 Tennyson’s The Princess. 
 
 Tennyson’s Shorter Poems. 
 
 Thackeray’s English Humourists. 
 Thackeray’s Henry Esmond. 
 
 Thoreau’s Walden. 
 
 Virgil’s /Eneid, 
 
 Washington’s Farewell Address, and 
 Webster’s First Bunker Hill Oration. 
 Whittier’s Snow-Bound and Other Early 
 Poems. 
 
 Woolman’s Journal. 
 
 Wordsworth’s Shorter Poems. 
 

Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2015 
 
 https://archive.org/details/geoffreychaucersOOchau 
 
GEOFFREY CHAUCER 
 
GEOFFREY CHAUCER’S 
 
 THE PROLOGUE TO THE BOOK OF THE 
 TALES OF CANTERBURY 
 
 THE KNIGHT’S TALE 
 
 THE NUN’S PRIEST’S TALE 
 
 EDITED, WITH NOTES AND GLOSSARY, 
 BY 
 
 ANDREW INGRAHAM ^ 
 
 LATE HEAD-MASTER OF THE SWAIN FREE SCHOOL, 
 NEW BEDFORD, MASS. 
 
 .boston college 
 L CH£ stnut mil, 
 
 Nefo |0otk 
 
 THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 
 
 • LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., Ltd. 
 
 1916 
 
 All rights reserved 
 
Copyright, 1902, 
 
 By THE MACMILLAN COMPANY. 
 
 Set up and electrotyped September, 1902. Reprinted April, 
 *903; February, 1904; January, November, 1905; February, 1906; 
 January, 1907; April, October, 1908; July, 1909; February, 1910; 
 January, 1911; August, 1912; January, 1913 ; March, 1914; 
 January, July, 1915; March, July, 1916. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Text : page 
 
 The Prologue 1 
 
 The Knight’s Tale 36 
 
 The Nun’s Priest’s Tale 127 
 
 Reading Aloud 167 
 
 The Text 171 
 
 The Language 179 
 
 The Man 199 
 
 The Poet 212 
 
 List of Chaucer’s Works 232 
 
 Order of the Canterbury Tales .... 234 
 
 List of Books for Reference 236 
 
 Notes 239 
 
 List of Proper Names 287 
 
 Glossary 301 
 
 v 
 
THE PROLOGUE 
 
 Whan that 0 Apriile with his shoures sote 
 The droughte of March hath perced to the rote, 
 And bathed every veyne in swich° licour 
 Of which vertu engendred is the flour ; 
 
 Whan Zephirus eek with his swete breeth 
 Inspired hath in every holt and heeth 
 The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne 
 Hath in the Kam° his halfe cours y-ronne. 
 
 And smale fowles maken melodye, 
 
 That slepen al the night with open ye, 
 
 So priketh hem nature in hir corages : 
 
 Than Ion gen folk to goon on pilgrimages, 
 
 And palmeres for to seken straunge strondes. 
 
 To feme halwes couthe in sondry londes, 0 *’ 
 
 And specially from every shires ende 
 Of Engelond to Caunterbury they wende, 
 
 The holy blisful martir 0 for to seke, 
 
 That hem hath holpen whan that they were seke. 
 
 Bifel° that in that sesoun on a day 
 In South werk at the Tabard 0 as I lay 
 
 B 1 
 
2 
 
 THE PROLOGUE 
 
 Redy to wenden on my pilgrimage 
 To Cannterbury with fill devout corage, 0 
 At night was come into that hostelrye 
 Wei nine and twenty 0 in a compaignye 
 Of sondry folk by aventure y-falle 
 In felaweshipe, and pilgrimes were they alle, 
 That toward Cannterbury wolden ride. 
 
 The chambres and the stables weren wide, 
 
 And wel we weren esed atte beste. 
 
 And shortly, whan the sonne was to reste, 
 
 So hadde 1° spoken with hem everichon, 
 
 That I was of hir felaweshipe anon ; 
 
 And made forward erly for to rise, 
 
 To take our wey, ther as I yow devise^ 
 
 But natheles, whyl I have time anospace, 
 
 Er that I ferther in this tale pace, 
 
 Me thinketh 0 it acordaunt to resoun 
 To telle yow al the condicioun 
 Of ech of hem so as it semed me, 
 
 And whiche they weren and of what degree, 
 And eek in what array that they were inne 0 ; 
 And at° a knight than wol I first biginne. 
 
 A Knight ther was and that a worthy 0 man, 
 That, fro the time that he first bigan 
 To riden° out, he loved chivalrye, 
 
THE PROLOGUE 
 
 Tr outhe and honour, fredom and curteisye. 
 
 Ful worthy was he in his lordes werre, 
 
 And therto hadde he riden, no man ferre, 
 
 As wel in cristendom as in hethenesse, 
 
 ^ And evere honoured for his worthinesse. 
 
 -31 Alisaundre 0 he was whan it was wonne ; 
 
 Ful ofte time he hadde the bord bigonne 
 Aboven alle naciouns in Pruce. 
 
 In Lettow hadde he reysed and in Puce, 
 
 No Cristen man so ofte of his degree. 
 
 In Gernade at the sege eek hadde he be 
 Of Algezir, and riden in Belmarye. 
 
 At Lyeys was he, and &t Satalye, 
 
 Whan they were wonne ; and in the Grete See 
 At many a noble armee hadde he be. 
 
 At mortal batailles hadde he been fiftene, 
 
 And foughten for our feith at Tramissene 
 In listes thryes, and ay slayn his foo. 
 
 This ilke worthy knight hadde been also 
 Somtime with the lord of Palatye, 
 
 Agayn another 0 hethen in Turkye : 
 
 And everemore he hadde a sovereyn prys. 
 
 And though that 0 he were 0 worthy, he was wys, 
 And of his port as meke as is a mayde. 
 
 He nevere yet no vileinye ne sayde 
 
4 
 
 THE PROLOGUE 
 
 111 al his lyf, unto no maner wight. 
 
 He was a verray parfit, gentil knight. 
 
 But for to tellen yow of his array, 
 
 His hors° were gode, but he ne was nat gay ; 
 
 Of fustian he wered a gipoun 
 Al bismotered with his habergeoun ; 
 
 For he was late y-come from his viage, 
 
 And wente for to doon his pilgrimage. 
 
 With him ther was his sone, a yong Squyer, 
 A lovyere, 0 and a lusty bacheler, 0 
 With lokkes crulle as they were leyd in presse. 
 Of twenty yeer of age he was, I gesse. 
 
 Of his stature he was of evene lengthe, 
 
 And wonderly delivere and of greet strengthe. 
 And he hadde been somtime in chivachye 
 In Flaundres, in Artoys, and Picardye, 
 
 And born him wel, as of so litel space, 0 
 In hope to stonden in his lady° grace. 
 Embrouded was he, as it were a mede 
 Al ful of freshe floures white and rede. 
 
 Singinge he was, or floytinge, 0 al the day; 
 
 He was as fresh as is the month of May. 
 
 Short was his goune, with sieves longe and wide 
 Wel coude he sitte on hors and faire ride. 
 
 He coude songes make and wel endite, 
 
THE PROLOGUE 
 
 5 
 
 Juste and eek daunce, and wel purtreye and write. 
 
 So hote he lovede that by niglitertale 
 He sleep namore than doth a nightingale, 
 thirteys he was, lowly and servisable, 
 
 And carf biforn his fader at the table. ioo 
 
 A Yeman hadde he, and ser vaunts namo 
 At that time, for him liste ride so° ; 
 
 And he was clad in cote and hood of grene, 
 
 A sheef of pecok arwes brighte and kene 
 
 Under his belt he bar ful thriftily 105 
 
 (Wel coude he dresse his take! yemanly, 
 
 His arwes drouped nought with fetheres lowe), 
 
 And in his hand he bar a mighty bowe. 
 
 A not-heed hadde he, with a broun visage. 
 
 Of wode-craft wel coude he al the usage. no 
 
 Upon his arm he bar a gay bracer, 
 
 And by his side a swerd and a bokeler, 
 
 And on that other side a gay daggere, 
 
 Harneised wel, and sharp as poynt of spere ; 
 
 ^ A Gristofre on his brest of silver shene. 115 
 
 An horn he bar, the bawdrik was of grene ; 
 
 A forster was he, soothly, as I gesse. 
 
 * Ther was also a ISTonne, a Prioresse, 
 
 That of hir smiling was ful simple and coy ; 
 
 Hir gretteste ooth was but ‘ By Seynte Loy 0 ’ ; 
 
 1*0 
 
6 
 
 THE PROLOGUE 
 
 And she was cleped Madame Eglentine. 0 
 Ful wel she song the service divine, 
 
 Entuned 0 in hir nose ful semely ; 
 
 And Frensh she spak ful faire and fetisly, 
 
 After the scole of Stratford-atte-Bowe,° 
 
 <j?or Frensh of Paris was to hir unknowe. 
 
 At mete wel y-taught° was she withalle ; 
 
 She leet no morsel from hir lippes falle, 
 
 Ne wette hir fingres in hir sauce depe ; 
 
 Wel coude she carie a morsel, and wel kepe 
 That no drope ne fille° upon hir brest ; 
 
 In curteisye was set ful moche hir lest. 
 
 Hir over lippe wiped she so clene, 
 
 That in hir coppe ther was no ferthing sene 
 Of grece, whan she dronken hadde hir draughte 
 Ful semely after hir mete she raughte. 
 
 And sikerly she was of greet disport, 
 
 And ful plesaunt, and amiable of port, 
 
 And peyned hir to countrefete chere 
 Of Court, and to been estatlich of manere, 
 
 And to ben holden digne of reverence. 
 
 But, for to speken of hir conscience, 
 
 She was so charitable and so pitous, 
 
 , She wolde wepe, if that she sawe° a mous 
 Caught in a trappe, if it were deed or bledde . 
 
THE PROLOGUE 
 
 7 
 
 Of smale houndes hadde she, that she fedde 
 With rosted flesh, or milk and wastel breed. 
 
 But sore wepte she if oon of hem were deed, 
 
 Or if men° smoot it with a yerde smerte ; 
 
 And al was conscience and tendre herte. 150 
 
 Ful semely hir wimpel pinched was ; 
 
 Hir nose tretis ; hir eyen greye as glas ; 
 
 Hir mouth ful smal, and thereto softe and reed ; 
 
 But sikerly she hadde a fair forheed, 
 
 It was almost a spanne brood, I trowe ; 155 
 
 For, hardily, she was nat undergrowe! 
 
 Ful fetis was hir cloke, as I was war. 
 
 Of smal coral aboute hir arm she bar 
 A peire° of bedes, gauded al with grene ; 
 
 And theron heng a broche of gold ful shene, 160 
 
 On which ther was first write a crowned A, 
 
 And after Amor vincit omnia . 
 i Another Nonne with hir hadde she, 
 
 3 r ^That was hir chapeleyne, and Pueestes thre. 
 
 A Monk ther was, a fair for the maistrye, 165 
 
 An outridere, that lovede venerye ; 
 
 A manly man, to been an abbot able. 
 
 Ful many a deyntee hors hadde he in stable ; 
 
 And whan he rood men mighte his bridel here 
 Ginglen in a whistling wind as clere 170 
 
8 
 
 THE PROLOGUE 
 
 And eek as loude as doth the chapel belle, 
 
 Ther as this lord was keper of the celle. 
 
 The reule 0 of seynt Maure or of seynt Beneit 0 
 By cause that it was old and som-del streit, 
 
 This ilke monk leet olde thinges pace, 275 
 
 And held after the newe world the space. 
 
 He yaf nat of that text a pulled 0 hen 
 That seith that hunters been nat holy men ; 
 
 Ne that a monk whan he is rechelees 
 
 Is likned til a fish that is waterlees ; 180 
 
 This is to seyn, a monk out of his cloistre. 
 
 But thilke text held he nat worth an oistre. 
 
 And I seyde his opinioun was good. 0 
 What sholde he studie, and make himselven wood, 
 Upon a book in cloistre alwey to poure, 185 
 
 Or swinken with his handes and laboure, 
 
 As Austin bit° ? How shal the world be served ? 
 Lat Austin have his swink to him reserved. 
 
 Therfor he was a pricasour aright ; 
 
 Grehoundes he hadde, as swifte as foul in flight ; 190 
 
 Of priking and of hunting for the hare 
 Was al his lust, for no cost wolde he spare. 0 
 I seigh his sieves purfiled at the hond 
 With grys, and that the fineste of a lond° ; 
 
 And, for to festne his hood under his chin, 
 
 *95 
 
THE PROLOGUE 
 
 9 
 
 He hadde of gold y wrought a f ul curious pin ; 
 
 A love-knot in the gretter ende ther was. 
 
 His heed was balled, that shoon as any glas^ 
 
 And eek his face as he hadde been enoynt. 
 
 He was a lord ful fat and in good poynt J 200 
 
 His eyen stepe and rollinge in his heed 
 That stemed as a forneys of a leed ; 
 
 His botes souple, his hors in greet estat. 
 
 How certeynly he was a fair prelat; 
 
 He was nat pale as a for-pined goost. 205 
 
 A fat swan loved he best of any roost. 
 
 His palfrey was as broun as is a berie. 
 
 A Fkere ther was, a wantoun and a merie, 
 
 A limitour, a ful solempne man. 
 
 In alle the ordres foure° is noon that can ?io 
 
 So moche of daliaunce and fair langage. 
 
 He hadde maad ful many a manage 0 
 Of yonge wommen at his owene cost. 
 
 Unto his ordre he was a noble post. 
 
 Ful wel biloved and famulier was he 215 
 
 With frankeleyns overal in his contree, 
 
 And with worthy wommen of the toun - 
 For he hadde power of confessioun, 
 
 As seyde himself, more than a curat, 
 
 For of his ordre he was licentiat. 
 
 22a 
 
10 
 
 THE PROLOGUE 
 
 Ful swetely herde he confessioun, 
 x.nd plesaunt was liis absolucioun ; 
 
 He was an esy man to yeve penaunce 
 Ther as he wiste to have a good pitaunce ; 
 
 For unto a povre ordre for to yive 225 
 
 Is signe that a man is wel y-shrive ; 
 
 For if he yaf, he dorste make avaunt, 
 
 He wiste that a man was repentaunt : 
 
 For many a man so hard is of his herte, 
 
 He may nat wepe although him sore smerte ; 230 
 
 Therfore in stede of weping and preyeres 
 Men° moote yeve silver to the povre freres. 
 
 His tipet was ay farsed ful of knives 0 
 And pinnes, for to yeven faire wives. 
 
 And certeinly he hadde a mery note ; 
 
 Wel coude he singe and pleyen on a rote. 
 
 Of yeddinges he bar outrely the prys. 
 
 His nekke whyt was as the flour-de-lys. 
 
 Thertc he strong was as a champioun. 
 
 He knew the tavernes wel in every toun, 
 
 And everich hostiler and tappestere 
 Bet than a lazar or a beggestere 0 ; 
 
 For unto swich a worthy man as he 
 Acorded nat, as by his facultee , 0 
 To have with seke lazars aqueyntaunce. 
 
 *35 
 
 240 
 
 24j 
 
THE PROLOGUE 
 
 11 
 
 It is nat honeste, it may nat avaunce 0 
 For to delen 0 with no swich poraille, 
 
 But al with riche and selleres of vitaille. 
 
 And overal ther as° profit sholde arise, 
 
 Curteys he was, and lowely of servise. 25a 
 
 Ther nas no man nowher so vertuous ; 
 
 He was the beste beggere in his hous, 
 
 For though a widwe hadde nought a sho, 
 
 So plesaunt was his ‘In principio , 0 ? 
 
 Yet wolde he have a ferthing 0 er he wente. 255 
 
 His purchas was wel bettre than his rente. 
 
 And rage he coude as it were right a whelpe. 
 
 In love-dayes ther coude he mochel helpe. 
 
 For ther he was nat lyk a cloisterer, 
 
 With a thredbare cope, as is a povre scoler, 260 
 
 But he was lyk a maister or a pope. 
 
 Of double worstede was his semi-cope, 
 
 That rounded as a belle out of the presse. 
 
 Somwhat he lipsed for his wantounesse, 
 
 To make his English swete upon his tonge ; 265 
 
 And in his harping , 0 whan that he hadde songe, 
 
 His eyen twinkled in his heed aright, 
 
 As doon the sterres in the frosty night. 
 
 This worthy limitour was cleped Huberd. 
 
 V A Marchant was ther with a forked berd, 
 
 270 
 
12 
 
 THE PROLOGUE 
 
 In mottelee, and h ye on horse he sat ; 
 
 Upon his heed a Flaundrish bevere hat, 
 
 His botes clasped faire and fetisly. 
 
 His resouns he spak f ill *solempnely, 
 
 Souninge alway thencrees of his winninge. 2?e 
 
 He wolde the see were kept for any thinge 0 
 Bitwixe Middelburgh and Orewelle. 
 
 Wei coude he in eschaunge 0 sheeldes selle. 
 
 This worthy man ful wel his wit bisette ; 
 
 Ther wiste no wight that he was in dette, 280 
 
 So estatly was he of his governaunce 
 
 ^Vith his bargaynes and with his chevisaunce. 
 
 For sothe he was a worthy man withalle, 
 
 But, sooth to seyn, I noot I10 w men him calle. 
 
 A Clerk ther was of Oxenford also, 285 
 
 That unto logik hadde long y-go. 
 
 As lene was his hors as is a rake, 
 
 And he nas nat right fat, I undertake', 
 
 But loked hoi we, and therto soberly. 
 
 Ful thredbare was his overeste courtepy ; 290 
 
 For he hadde geten him yet no benefice, 
 
 Ne was so worldly for to have office. 
 
 For him was° levere have at his beddes heed 
 Twenty bokes clad in blak or reed 
 Of Aristotle and his philosophye, 
 
 295 
 
THE PROLOGUE 
 
 13 
 
 Than robes riche or fithele or gay sautrye. 
 ^But al be that he was a philosophise , 0 
 Yet hadde he but litel gold in cofre ; 
 
 But al that he mighte of his freendes hente, 
 On bokes and on lerninge he it spente, 
 
 And bisily gan for the soules preye 
 ' Of hem that yaf him wherwith to scoleye. 
 
 Of studie took he most cure and most hede. 
 Nought o word spak he more than was nede, 
 And that was seyd in forme and reverence, 
 And short and quik and ful of hy sentence ; 
 Sowninge in moral vertu was his speche, 
 
 And gladly wolde he lerne, and gladly teche. 
 $ A Sergeant of the La we, war and wys, 
 That often hadde been at the parvys, 
 
 Ther was also, ful riche of excellence. 
 Discreet he was and of greet reverence — 
 
 He semed swich, his wordes weren so wise. 
 Justice he was ful often in assise, 
 
 By patente and by pleyn commissioun ; 
 
 Bor his science and for his heigh renoun 
 Of fees and robes hadde he many oon. 
 
 So greet a purchasour 0 was nowher noon. 
 
 Al was fee simple to him in effect, 
 
 His purchasing mighte nat been infect. 
 
 3 0Q 
 
 3°5 
 
 310 
 
 315 
 
 320 
 
14 
 
 THE PROLOGUE 
 
 Nowher so bisy a man as he ther nas, 
 
 And yet he semed bisier than he was. 
 
 In termes hadde he cas° and domes alle, 
 
 That from the time of king William were falle. 
 
 Therto he coude endite and make a thing, 325 
 
 Ther coude no wight pinche at his writing; 
 
 And every statut coude he pleyn by rote. 
 
 He rood but hoomly in a medlee cote, 
 
 Girt with a ceynt of silk with barres smale ; 
 
 Of his array telle I no lenger tale. 330 
 
 A Frankeleyn was in his compaignye ; 
 
 Whyt was his berd as is the dayesye. 
 
 Of his complexioun 0 he was sangwyn. 
 
 Wei loved he by the morwe a sop in wyn. 
 
 To liven in delyt was ever his wone, 335 
 
 For he was Epicurus owene sone, 
 
 That heeld opinioun that pleyn delyt° 
 
 Was verraily felicitee parfyt. 
 
 An housholdere, and that a greet, was he ; 
 
 Seynt Julian 0 he was in his contree. 340 
 
 His breed, his ale, was alweys after oon ; 
 
 A b ettre envined man was nowher noon. 
 
 Withouten bake-mete was nevere his hous 
 Of fish and flesh, and that so plentevous, 
 
 It snewed in his hous of mete and drinke. 
 
 345 
 
THE PROLOGUE 
 
 15 
 
 Of alle deyntees that men coude tliinke, 
 
 After the sondry sesouns of the yeer, 
 So^chaunged he his mete and his soper. 
 
 Ful many a fat partrich hadde he in mewe, 
 And many a breem and many a luce in stewe. 
 Wo was his cook but if his sauce were 
 Poynaunt and sharp, and redy al his gere. 
 
 His table dormant 0 in his lialle alway 
 Stood redy covered al the longe day. 
 
 At sessiouns ther was he lord and sire°; 
 
 Ful ofte time he was knight of the shire . 0 
 
 An anlas and a gipser al of silk 
 
 Heng at his girdel, whyt as morne milk. 
 
 A shirreve hadde he been and a countour ; 
 
 Was nowher such a worthy vavasour. 
 
 An Haberdasher and a Carpenter, 
 
 A Webbe, a Dyere, and a Tapicer, — 
 
 And they were clothed alle in o liveree , 0 
 Of a solempne and a greet fraternitee. 
 
 Ful fresh and newe hir gere apiked was ; 
 
 Hir knives were chaped nought with bras, 
 
 But al with silver wrought ful clene and weel, 
 Hir girdles and hir pouches everydeel. 
 
 Wei semed ech of hem a fair burgeys 
 To sitten in a yeldehalle on a deys. 
 
 35 ° 
 
 355 
 
 360 
 
 365 
 
 37o 
 
16 
 
 THE PROLOGUE 
 
 Everich for the wisdom that he can 0 
 Was shaply for to been an alderman ; 
 
 Eor catel hadde they ynough and rente, 
 
 And eek hir wives wolde it wel assente, 
 
 And elles certeyn were they to blame ; 375 
 
 It is ful fair to been y-clept ‘ Madame/ 
 
 And goon to vigilyes al bifore, 0 
 And have a mantel royalliche y-bore. 
 
 I " A Cook they hadde with hem for the nones, 
 
 To boille the chiknes with the mary-bones, 380 
 
 And poudre-marchant tart and galingale. 
 
 Wel coude he knowe a draughte of London ale. 
 
 He coude roste and sethe and broille and frye, 
 
 Maken mortreux and wel bake a pye. 
 
 But greet harm 0 was it, as it thoughte me, 385 
 
 That on his shine a mormal hadde he ; 
 
 Eor blankmanger, that made he with the beste. 
 
 ' A Shipman was ther, woning fer by weste, 
 
 For aught I woot he was of Dertemouthe. 
 
 He rood upon a rouncy as he couthe, 0 390 
 
 In a gowne of falding to the knee. 
 
 A daggere hanging on a laas hadde he 
 Aboute his nekke under his arm adoun. 
 
 The hote somer hadde maad his hewe al broun 5 
 And certeynly he was a good felawe. 0 
 
 395 
 
THE PROLOGUE 
 
 17 
 
 Ful many a draughte of wyn had he y-drawe 
 From Burdeux-ward , 0 whyl that the chapman sleep 
 Of nice conscience took he no keep. 
 
 If that he faught and hadde the hyer hond, 
 
 By water he sente hem hoom° to every lond. 
 
 But of his craft to rekene wel his tides, 
 
 His stremes and his daungers him besides, 
 
 His herberwe and his mone, his lodemenage, 
 
 Ther nas noon swich from Hulle to Cartage . 0 
 Hardy he was, and wys to undertake ; 
 
 With many a tempest hadde his berd been shake. 
 He knew alle the havenes, as they were, 
 
 From Gootlond to the cape of Finistere, 
 
 And every crike in Britayne and in Spayne ; 
 
 His barge y-cleped was the Maudelayne . 0 
 
 With us ther was a Doctour of Phisyk, 
 
 In al this world ne was ther noon him lyk, 
 
 To speke of° phisik and of surgerye; 
 
 For he was grounded in astronomye . 0 
 He kepte his pacient a ful greet del 
 In houres by his magik naturel. 
 
 Wel coude he fortunen the ascendent 
 Of his images for his pacient. 
 
 He knew the cause of everich maladye, 
 
 Were it of hoot or cold, or moiste or drye,° 
 c 
 
 40a 
 
 405 
 
 410 
 
 415 
 
 420 
 
18 
 
 THE PROLOGUE 
 
 And where engendred and of what humour. 
 He was a verray parfit practisour ; 
 
 The cause y-knowe and of his harm the rote, 
 Anon he yaf the seke man his bote. 
 
 Ful redy hadde he his apothecaries, 
 
 To sende him drogges and his letuaries, 
 
 For ech of hem made other for to winne; 
 
 Hir frendshipe nas nat newe to biginne. 
 
 Wei knew he the olde Esculapius , 0 
 And Deiscorides, and eek Bufus, 
 
 Old Ypocras, Haly and Galien, 
 
 Serapion, Kazis and Avicen, 
 
 Averrois, Damascien and Constantyn, 
 Bernard and Gatesden and Gilbertyn. 
 
 Of his diete mesurable was he, 
 
 For it was of no superfluitee, 
 
 But of greet norissing and digestible. 
 
 His studie was but litel on the Bible. 
 
 In sangwin and in pers he clad was al, 
 
 Lined with taffata and with sendal ; 
 
 And yet he was but esy of dispence . 0 
 He kepte that he wan in pestilence 0 ; 
 
 For gold in phisik is a cordial , 0 - 
 Therfor he lovede gold in special, 
 t A good Wyf was ther of biside Bathe, 
 
 425 
 
 430 
 
 435 
 
 440 
 
 445 
 
THE PROLOGUE 
 
 19 
 
 But she was somdel deef, and that was scathe. 
 
 Of cloth-making she hadde swiche an haunt 0 
 She passed hem of Ypres and of Gaunt. 
 
 In al the parishe wyf ne was ther noon° 
 
 That to the offring bifore hir sholde goon ; 
 
 And if ther dide, certeyn so wrooth was she, 
 
 That she was out of alle charitee. 
 
 Hir coverchiefs ful fine were of ground, 
 
 I dorste swere they weyeden ten° pound, 
 
 That on a Sonday weren upon hir heed. 
 
 Hir hosen weren of fyn scarlet reed, 
 
 Ful streite y-teyd, and shoes ful moiste and newe ; 
 Bold was hir face, and fair, and reed of hewe. 
 
 She was a worthy womman al hir live, 
 
 Housbondes at chirche-dore° she hadde five, 
 Withouten other compaignye in youthe 0 
 (But therof nedeth nat to speke as nouthe). 
 
 And thryes hadde she been at Jerusalem ; 
 
 She hadde passed many a straunge streem ; 
 
 At Rome she hadde been and at Boloigne , 0 
 In Galice 0 at Seynt J ame and at Coloigne . 0 
 She coude moche of wandring by the weye. 
 Gat-tothed was she, soothly for to seye. 
 
 Upon an amblere esily she sat, 
 
 Y-wimpled wel, and on hir heed an hat 
 
 450 
 
 455 
 
 460 
 
 465 
 
 470 
 
20 
 
 THE PROLOGUE 
 
 As brood as is a bokeler or a targe ; 
 
 A foot-mantel about e hir hipes large, 
 
 And on hir feet a paire of spores sharpe. 
 
 In felaweship wel coude she laughe and carpe 
 Of remedies of love she knew perchaunce, 0 
 For she coude of that art the olde daunce. 
 
 A good man was ther of religioun, 
 
 \ And was a povre Persolhst of a toun, 
 
 But riche he was of holy thought and werk. 
 He was also a lerned man, a clerk, 
 
 That Cristes gospel trewely wolde preche ; 
 
 His parishens devoutly wolde he teche. 
 Benigne he was and wonder diligent 
 And in adversitee ful pacient ; 
 
 And swich he was y-preved ofte sithes. 
 
 Ful looth were him to cursen for his tithes, 0 
 But rather wolde he yeven, out of doute, 
 
 Unto his povre parishens aboute 
 
 Of his offring, and eek of his substaunce. 0 
 
 He coude in litel thing han suffisaunce. 
 
 Wyd was his pari she, and houses fer asonder, 
 But he ne lafte nat for reyn ne thonder, 
 
 In siknes nor in meschief to visite 
 
 The ferreste in his parishe, moche and lite, 
 
 Upon his feet, and in his hand a staf.° 
 
 475 
 
 480 
 
 485 
 
 490 
 
 495 
 
THE PROLOGUE 
 
 21 
 
 This noble ensample to his sheep he yaf, 
 
 That first he wroughte and afterward he taughte ; 
 Out of the gospel 0 he tho wordes caughte, 
 
 And this figure he added eek therto 
 That “ If gold ruste, what shal iren do ? ” 
 
 For if a preest be foul, on whom we truste, 
 
 No wonder is a lewed man to ruste ; 
 
 And shame it is, if a preest take keep, 
 
 A shiten shepherde and a elene sheep. 
 
 Wei oughte a preest ensample for to yive 
 By his clennesse how that his sheep shold live. 
 He sette nat his benefice to hire, 
 
 And leet his sheep encombred in the mire, 
 
 And ran to London, unto Seynt Poules, 
 
 To seken him a chaunterye 0 for soules, 
 
 Or with a bretherhed to been withholde 0 ; 
 
 But dwelte at hoom and kepte wel his folde 
 So that the wolf ne made it nat miscarie ; 
 
 He was a shepherde and no mercenarie. 
 
 And though he holy were and vertuous, 
 
 He was to sinful man nat despitous , 0 
 Ne of his speche daungerous ne digne, 
 
 But in his teching discreet and benigne. 
 
 To drawen folk to hevene by fairnesse, - 
 By good ensample, this was his bisinesse } 
 
 500 
 
 505 
 
 51° 
 
 515 
 
 520 
 
22 
 
 THE PROLOGUE 
 
 But it were any persone obstinat, 
 
 What so he were, of heigh or lowe estat, 
 
 Him wolde he snibben sharply for the nonis. 
 
 A bettre preest, I trowe that nowher noon is. 
 
 He wayted after no pompe and reverence, 525 
 
 He maked him a spiced 0 conscience, 
 
 But Cristes lore, and his Appstles twelve, 
 
 He taughte ; but first he f olwed it himselve. 
 
 * With him ther was a Plowman, was his brother, 0 
 That hadde y-lad of dong ful many a f other. 530 
 
 A trewe swinkere and a good was he, 
 
 Livinge in pees and parfit charitee. 
 
 God loved he best with al his hole herte 
 At alle times, though him gamed or smerte , 0 
 And thanne his neighebour right as himselve. 535 
 He wolde threshe, and therto dike and delve, 
 
 For Cristes sake, for every povre wight, 
 
 Withouten hire, if it lay in his might. 
 
 His tithes payed he ful faire and wel, 
 
 Bothe of his propre swink and his catel.° 540 
 
 In a tabard he rood upon a mere . 0 
 
 Ther was also a Keve and a Millere, 
 
 A Somnour and a Pardoner also, 
 
 A Maunciple and myself ; ther were namo. 
 
 The Millere was a stout carl for the nones, 545 
 
THE PROLOGUE 
 
 23 
 
 Ful big he was of braun and eek of bones ; 
 
 That proved wel, for overal ther he cam, 
 
 At wrastling he wolde have alwey the ram.° 
 
 He was short-sholdred, brood, a thikke knarre, 
 
 Imer nas no dore that he nolde heve of harre, 550 
 Jdv breke it, at a renning, with his heed. 
 
 His herd as any sowe or fox was reed 
 And therto brood, as though it were a spade. 
 
 Upon the cop right of his nose he hade 
 A werte, and theron stood a tuft of heres, 555 
 
 Reed as the bristles of a sowes eres ; 
 
 His nose-thirles blake were and wide 0 ; 
 
 A swerd and a bokeler bar he by his side ; 
 
 His mouth as greet was as a greet forneys ; , 
 
 He was a janglere and a goliardeys, 560 
 
 And that 0 was most of sinne and harlotryes. 
 
 Wei coude he stolen corn 0 and tollen thryes; 
 
 And yet he hadde a thombe of gold , 0 pardee ! 
 
 A whyt cote and a blew hood wered he. 
 
 A baggepipe wel coude he bio we and sowne, 565 
 
 And therwithal he broughte us out of towne. 
 
 A gentil Maunciple was ther of a temple, 
 
 Of which achatours mighte take exemple 
 For to be wise in bying of vitaille. 
 
 For whether that he payde or took by taille , 0 
 
 570 
 
24 
 
 THE PROLOGUE 
 
 Algate he wayted so in his achat, 
 
 That he was ay biforn and in good stat. 
 
 Now is nat that of God a ful fair grace, 
 
 That swich a lewed mannes wit shal pace 
 
 The wisdom of an heep of lerned men ! 575 
 
 Of maistres hadde he mo than thryes ten, 
 
 That were of lawe expert and curious ; 
 
 Of wliiche ther were a doseyn in that hous 
 Worthy to been stiwardes of rente and lond 
 Of any lord that is in Engelond, 580 
 
 To make him live by his propre good 0 
 In honour dettelees, but he were wood, 
 
 Or live as scarsly as him list desire ; 
 
 And able for to helpen al a shire 
 
 I11 any cas that miglite falle or happe ; 585 
 
 And yit this maunciple sette hir aller° cappe. 
 
 The Reve was a sclendre colerik man. 
 
 His berd was shave as ny as ever he can; 
 
 His heer was by his eres round y-shorn, 
 
 His top was dokked lyk a preest biforn; 590 
 
 Ful longe were his legges and ful lene 
 Y-lyk a staf, ther was no calf y-sene. 
 
 Wei coude he kepe a gerner and a binne ; 
 
 Ther was noon auditour coude on him winne.° 
 
 Wei wiste he by the droughte and by the reyn 595 
 
THE PROLOGUE 
 
 25 
 
 J?he yelding of his seed and of his greyn. 
 
 His lordes sheep, his neet, his dayerye, 
 
 His swyn, his hors, his stoor, and his pultrye, 
 
 Was hoolly in this reves governing, 
 
 And by his covenannt yaf the rekening 600 
 
 Sin that his lord was twenty yeer of age ; 
 
 Ther coude no man bringe him in arrerage. 
 
 Ther nas baillif, ne herde, ne other hine, 
 
 That he ne knew his sleighte 0 and his covine ; 
 
 They were adrad of him, as of the deeth.° 605 
 
 His woning was ful fair upon an heeth, 
 
 With grene trees shadwed was his place. 
 
 He coude bettre than his lord purchace. 
 
 Ful riche he was astored prively ; 
 
 His lord wel coude he plesen subtilly 610 
 
 To yeve and lene him of his owene good , 0 
 And have a thank and yet a cote and hood. 
 
 In youthe he lerned hadde a good mister ; 
 
 He was a wel good wrighte, a carpenter. 
 
 This reve sat upon a ful good stot, 615 
 
 That was al pomely grey and highte Scot. 
 
 A long surcote of pers upon he hade, 
 
 And by his side he bar a rusty blade. 
 
 Of Northfolk was this reve of which I telle, 
 
 Biside a toun men clepen Baldeswelle. 
 
 620 
 
26 
 
 THE PROLOGUE 
 
 Tukked he was as is a frere aboute, 0 
 
 And evere he rood the hindreste of our route. 
 
 A Somnour was ther with us in that place, 
 
 That hadde a fyr-reed cherubinnes 0 face, 
 
 For sawcefleem he was, with eyen narwe ; 625 
 
 As hot he was and lecherous as a sparwe, 
 
 With scalled browes blake and piled berd ; 
 
 Of his visage children were aferd. 
 
 Ther nas quik-silver, litarge, ne brimstoon, 
 
 Boras, ceruce, ne oille of tartre noon, 630 
 
 Ne oynement that wolde dense and bite, 
 
 That him mighte helpen of his whelkes white, 
 
 Ne of the knobbes sittinge on his chekes. 
 
 Wei. loved he garleek, oynons, and eek lekes, 
 
 And for to drinken strong wyn reed as blood. 635 
 
 Thanne wolde he speke and crye as he were wood. 
 And whan that he wel dronken hadde the wyn, 
 
 Than wolde he speke no word but Latyn. 
 
 A fewe termes hadde he, two or thre, 
 
 That he had lerned out of som decree ; 640 
 
 No wonder is, he herde it al the day ; 
 
 And eek ye knowen wel, how that a jay 
 Can clepen ‘ Watte/ as well as can the pope. 
 
 But whoso coude in other thing him grope, 0 
 Thanne hadde he spent al his philosophye ; 645 
 
THE PROLOGUE 
 
 Ay c Questio quid iuris° ? wolde he crye. 
 
 He was a gentil harlot and a kinde ; 
 ^Afr bettre felawe sholde men nought finde. 
 He wolde suffre for a quart of wyn 
 A good felawe to have his concubyn 
 A twelf-month, an excuse him atte fulle. 
 And prively a finch 0 eek coude he pulle. 
 And if he fond owher a good felawe, 
 
 He wolde techen him to have non awe, 
 
 In swich cas, of the Erchedeknes 0 curs, 
 
 But if a mannes soule were in his purs ; 
 
 For in his purs he sholde y-punished be. 
 *^Purs is the Erchedeknes helle/ seyde he. 
 TTut wel I woot he lyed right in dede ; 
 
 Of cursing oughte ech gilty man him drede 
 (For curs wol slee right as assoilling savith) 
 And also war him of a Signiftcavit. 
 
 In daunger 0 hadde he at his owene gise 
 The yonge girles 0 of the diocise, 
 
 And knew hir counseil, and was al hir reed. 
 A gerland hadde he set upon his heed 
 As greet as it were for an ale-stake ; 
 
 A bokeler hadde he maad him of a cake. 
 
 With him ther rood a gentil Pardoner 0 
 Of Bouncivale, his frend and his compeer, 
 
28 
 
 THE PROLOGUE 
 
 That streight was comen fro the court of Rome. 
 
 Ful loude he song, ‘ Com hider, love, to me ! ) 
 
 This somnour bar to him a stif burdoun, 
 
 Was nevere trompe of half so greet a soun. 
 
 This pardoner hadde heer as yelow as wex, 675 
 
 But smothe it heng, as doth a strike of flex; 
 
 By ounces henge his lokkes that he hadde, 
 
 And therwith he his shuldres overspradde ; 
 
 But thinne it lay by colpons oon and oon ; 
 
 But hood for jolitee wered he noon, 680 
 
 For it was trussed up in his walet. 
 
 Him thoughte he rood al of the newe jet; 
 
 Dishevele, save his cappe, he rood al bare. 
 
 Swiche glaringe eyen hadde he as an hare. 
 
 A vernicle 0 hadde he sowed upon his cappe. 685 
 
 His walet lay biforn him in his lappe 
 Bret-ful of pardoun come from Rome al hoot, 
 
 A voys he hadde as smal as hath a goot. 
 
 No berd hadde he, ne nevere sholde have, 
 
 As smothe it was as it were late yshave ; 690 
 
 ******* 
 
 But of his craft, fro Berwik into Ware, 
 
 Ne was ther swich another pardoner. 
 
 For in his male he hadde a pilwe-beer, 
 
 Which that, he seyde, was our lady 0 veyl; 695 
 
THE PROLOGUE 
 
 29 
 
 He seyde, he hadde a gobet of the seyl 
 That Seynt Peter hadde whan that he wente 
 Upon the see til Jhesu Crist him hente. 
 
 He hadde a croys of latoun ful of stones 
 And in a glas he hadde pigges bones. 
 
 But with thise relikes, whan that he fond 
 A povre person dwelling upon lond,° 
 
 Upon a day° he gat him more moneye 
 Than that the person gat in monthes tweye. 
 
 And thus with feyned flaterye and japes, 
 
 He made the person and the peple his apes.° 
 
 But trewely to tellen atte laste, 
 
 He was in chirche a noble ecclesiaste ; 
 
 Wei coude he rede a lessoun or a storie, 
 
 But alderbest 0 he song an offertorie ; 
 
 For wel he wiste, whan that song was songe, 
 
 He moste preche and wel affile his tonge 
 To winne silver, as he ful wel coude ; 
 
 Therefore he song so meriely and loude. 
 
 Now have I told you shortly in a clause 0 
 Thestat , 0 tharray, the nombre, and eek the cause 
 Why that assembled was this compaignye 
 In Southwerk at this gentil hostelrye 
 That highte the Tabard, faste by the Belle. 
 
 But now is time to yow for to telle 0 
 
 700 
 
 705 
 
 710 
 
 715 
 
 72a 
 
30 
 
 THE PROLOGUE 
 
 How that we baren us that ilke night, 
 
 Whan we were in that hostelrye alight. 
 
 And after wol I telle of our viage 
 And al the remenaunt of our pilgrimage, 
 
 But first I pray yow of your curteisye, 
 
 That ye narette it nat my vileinye, 
 
 Though that I pleynly speke in this matere, 
 
 To telle yow hir wordes and hir chere, 
 
 Ne though I speke hir wordes proprely; 
 
 For this ye knowen al so wel as I, 
 
 Who-so shal telle a tale after a man, 
 
 He moot reherce as ny as ever he can 
 Everich a 0 word, if it be in his charge , 0 
 Al speke he never so rudeliche and large ; 
 
 Or elles he moot telle his tale untrewe, 
 
 Or feyne thing , 0 or finde wordes newe. 
 
 Fie may nat spare, although he were his brother; 
 He moot as wel seye o word as another . 0 
 Crist spak himself ful brode in holy writ, 
 
 And wel ye woot no vileinye is it. 
 
 Eek Plato 0 seitli, whoso can him rede, 
 
 ‘ The wordes mote be cosin to the dede.’ 
 
 Also I prey yow to foryeve it me 
 Al have I nat° set folk in hir degree 
 Here in this tale as that they sholde stonde ; 
 
 725 
 
 730 
 
 735 
 
 740 
 
 745 
 
THE PROLOGUE 
 
 31 
 
 My wit is short, ye may wel under stonde. 
 
 Greet chere made our host us everichon, 
 
 And to the soper sette he us anon ; 
 
 And served us with vitaille at the beste. 
 
 Strong was the wyn and wel to drinke us leste. 
 
 A semely man our hoste 0 was withalle 
 For to been a marshal in an halle ; 
 
 A large man he was with eyen stepe, 
 
 A fairer burgeys was ther noon in Chepe ; 
 
 Bold of his speche and wys and wel y-taught, 
 And of manhod him lakkede right naught. 
 
 Eek therto he was right a mery man, 
 
 And after soper pleyen he bigan, 
 
 And spak of mirthe amonges othere thinges, 
 Whan that we hadde maad our rekeninges 0 5 
 And seyde thus, ‘Now, lordinges, trewely 
 Ye been to me right welcome hertely ; 
 
 For by my trouthe, if that I shal nat lye, 
 
 I ne saugh this yeer so mery a compaignye 
 At ones in this herberwe as is now. 
 
 Fayn wolde I doon yow mirthe, wiste I how. 
 ~And of a mirthe I am right now bithought, 
 
 To doon yow ese, and it shal coste nought. 
 
 ‘ Ye goon to Caunterbury (God yow spede ! 0 
 The blisful martir quite yow your mede !), 
 
 750 
 
 755 
 
 760 
 
 765 
 
 770 
 
32 
 
 THE PROLOGUE 
 
 And wel I woot, as ye goon by the weye, 
 
 Ye shapen yow to talen and to pleye° ; 
 
 For trewely contort ne mirthe is noon 
 To ride by the weye doumb as a stoon ; 
 
 And therfor wol I maken yow disport, 775 
 
 As I seyde erst, and doon yow som contort 
 And if yow liketh 0 alle by 0011 assent 
 For to stonden at my jugement, 
 
 And for to werken as I shal yow seye ; 
 
 Tomorwe whan ye riden by the weye, 780 
 
 N ow by my fader 0 soule, that is deed, 
 
 But ye be merye, I wol yeve yow myn heed! 
 
 Hold up your hond° withouten more speche.’ 
 
 Our counted was nat longe for to seche ; 
 
 Us thoughte 0 it was nought worth to make it wys, 785 
 And graunted him withouten more avys, 
 
 And bad him seye his verdit as him lest. 
 
 ‘ Lordinges,’ quod he, ‘ now herkneth for the beste ;° 
 But tak it not, I prey yow, in desdeyn. 
 
 "Tliis is the poynt, to speken short and pleyn, 790 
 
 That ech of yow to shorte with 0 our weye 
 In this viage shal telle tales tweye, 
 
 To Caunterbury-ward, I mene it so, 
 
 And hom-ward he shal tellen othere two, 
 
 Of aventures that whilom han bifalle. 
 
 795 
 
THE PROLOGUE 
 
 33 
 
 And which of yow that bereth him beste of alle, 
 
 That is to seyn, that telle th in this cas 
 Tales of best sentence and most solas, 
 
 Shal han a soper at our aller° cost 
 
 Here in this place sitting by this post 800 
 
 Whan that we come agayn fro Caunterbur^^ 
 
 And for to make yow the more mery 
 I wol myselven goodly with yow ride 
 Right at myn owene cost, and be your gide. 
 
 And who-so wol my jugement withseye 805 
 
 Shal paye al that we spenden by the weye. 
 
 And if ye vouchesauf that it be so, 
 
 Tel me anon withouten wordes mo, 
 
 And I wol erly shape me therfore.’ 
 
 This thing was graunted, and our othes swore 0 810 
 With ful glad herte, and preyden him also 
 That he wold vouchesauf for to do so, 
 
 And that he wolde been our governour 
 And of our tales juge and reportour, 
 
 And sette a soper at a certeyn prys ; 815 
 
 And we wol reuled been at his devys, 
 
 In heigh and lowe.° And thus by oon assent 
 We been accorded to his jugement. 
 
 And therupon the wyn was fet an oon ; 
 
 We dronken, and to reste wente echoon, 820 
 
 D 
 
34 
 
 THE PROLOGUE 
 
 Withouten any lenger taryinge. 
 
 A-morwe, whan that day bigan to springe, 
 
 Up roos our host and was our alter cok, 
 
 And gadrede us togidre alle in a flok, 
 
 And forth we riden a litel more than pas, 
 
 Unto the Watering 0 of seynt Thomas. 
 
 And there our host bigan his hors areste, 
 
 And seyde, ‘ Lordinges, herkneth if yow leste ; 
 Ye woot 0 your forward, and I it yow recorde. 
 
 If even-song and morwe-song acorde , 0 
 Lat se now who shal telle the firste tale. 
 
 As ever mote I drinke wyn or ale, 
 
 Who-so be rebel to my jugement 0 
 
 Shal paye for al that by the weye is spent. 
 
 Now draweth cut, er that we ferrer twinne; 
 
 He which that hath the shortest shal biginne. 
 Sir Knight/ quod he, c my maister and my lord, 
 Now draweth cut, for that is myn acord. 
 Cometh 0 neer/ quod he, ‘ my lady Prioresse ; 
 And ye, sir Clerk, lat be your shamfastnesse, 
 Ne studieth nought; ley hond to, every man.’ 
 Anon to drawen every wight bigan, 
 
 And shortly for to tellen as it was, 
 
 Were it by aventure or sort or cas, 
 
 The sothe is this, the cut til to the knight, 
 
 825 
 
 830 
 
 835 
 
 840 
 
 845 
 
THE PROLOGUE 
 
 35 
 
 Of which ful blithe and glad was every wight; 
 
 And telle he moste his tale as was resoun 
 By forward and by composicioun, 
 
 As ye han herd ; what nedeth wordes mo ? 
 
 And whan this gode man saugh that it was so, 850 
 As he that wys was and obedient 
 To kepe his forward by his free assent, 
 
 He seyde, ‘ Sin I shal bigin ne the game, 
 
 What, welcome be the cut a Goddes name ! 
 
 Now lat us ride, and herkneth what I seye. ? 855 
 
 And with that word we riden forth our weye ; 
 
 And he bigan with right a mery chere 
 His tale anon, and seyde in this manere. 
 
 is Hur 6c 
 
 
 sc 
 
 , ^ 
 
THE KNIGHT’S TALE 
 
 Whilom, as olde stories 0 tellen us, 
 
 Ther was a duk° that highte Theseus ; 860 
 
 Of Atthenes he was lord and. governour, 
 
 And in his time swich a conquerour 
 That gretter was ther noon under the sonne. 
 
 Ful many a riche contree 0 hadde he wonne ; 
 
 AYhat with his wisdom and his chivalrye 865 
 
 He conquered al the regne of Femenye , 0 
 That whilom was y-cleped Scithia; 
 
 And weddede the queen Ipolita, 
 
 And broughte hir hoom with him in his contree 
 With muchel glorie and greet solempnitee, 870 
 
 And eek hir yonge suster Emelye. 
 
 And thus with victorie and with inelodye 
 Lete I this noble duk to Atthenes ride, 
 
 And al his hoost in armes him biside. 
 
 And certes, if it nere to long to here, 875 
 
 I wolde ban told yow fully the manere, 
 
 How wonnen was the regne of Femenye 
 
 30 
 
THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 By Theseus and by his chivalrye; 
 
 And of the grete bataille for the nones 
 Bitwixen Atthenes and Amazones ; 
 
 And how asseged was Ipolita, 
 
 The faire, hardy queen of Scithia ; 
 
 And of the feste that was at hir weddinge, 
 And of the tempest at hir hoom-cominge ; 
 But al that thing I moot as now° forbere. 
 
 I have, God woot, a large feeld to ere, 
 
 And wayke been the oxen in my plough $ 
 The remenant of the talc is long ynough, 
 
 I wol nat letten eek noon of this route. 
 
 Lat every felawe telle his tale aboute, 
 
 And lat see now who shal the soper winne ; 
 And ther I lefte, I wol ageyn biginne. 
 
 This duk of whom I make inencioun 
 When he was come almost unto the toun, 
 In al his wele and in his moste pride, 
 
 He was war, as he caste his eye aside, 
 Wher that ther kneled in the heighe weye 
 A compaignye of ladies, tweye and tweye, 
 Ech after other, clad in clothes blake ; 
 
 But swich a cry and swich a wo they make 
 That in this world nis creature livinge 
 That herde swich another weymentinge; 
 
38 
 
 THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 And of this cry they nolde nevere stenten, 
 
 Til they the reynes of his bridel henten. 
 
 6 What folk been ye, that at myn hoom-cominge 
 Perturben so my feste with cryinge ? ’ 
 
 Quod Theseus, ‘ have ye so greet envye 
 Of myn honour that thus compleyne and crye ? 
 
 Or who hath yow misboden or offended ? 
 
 And telleth me if it may been amended; 
 
 And why that ye been clothed thus in blak. * 
 
 The eldeste lady of hem alle spak, 
 
 Whan she hadde swowned with a deedly chere, 
 That it was routhe for to seen and here, 
 
 And seyde, ‘ Lord, to whom Fortune hath yiven 
 Victorie and as a conquerour to liven, 
 
 Nought greveth us your glorie and your honour ; 
 But we biseken mercy and socour. 
 
 Have mercy on our wo and our distresse, 
 
 Som droppe of pitee thurgh thy gentillesse 
 Upon us wrecched wommen lat thou falle. 
 
 For certes, lord, ther is noon of us alle, 
 
 That she ne hath been a duchesse or a quene ; 
 Now be -we caitives, as it is wel sene, 
 
 Thanked 0 be Fortune and hir false wheel 
 That noon estat assureth to be weel.° 
 
 And certes, lord, to abiden your presence, 
 
 905 
 
 910 
 
 915 
 
 920 
 
 925 
 
THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 39 
 
 Here in the temple of the goddesse Clemence 
 We han ben waitinge al this fourtenight; 
 
 Now help ns, lord, sith it is in thy might. 930 
 
 I wrecche, which that wepe and waille thus, 
 
 Was whilom wyf to king Capaneus, 
 
 That starf 0 at Thebes ; cursed be that day ! 
 
 And alle we, that been in this array, 
 
 And maken al this lamentacioun, 935 
 
 We losten alle° our housbondes at that toun, 
 
 Whyl that the sege theraboute lay. 
 
 And yet now the olde Creon, weylaway ! 
 
 That lord is now of Thebes the citee, 
 
 Fulfild of ire and of iniquitee, 940 
 
 He, for despyt and for his tirannye, 
 
 To do the dede bodies vileinye, 
 
 Of alle our lordes 0 whiche that ben slawe 
 Hath alle the bodies on an heep y-drawe, 
 
 And wol nat suffren hem, by noon assent, 945 
 
 Neithef to been y-buried nor y-brent, 
 
 But maketh houndes ete hem in despyt.’ 
 
 And with that word withouten more respyt 
 They fillen gruf and criden pitously, 
 
 ‘Have on us wrecched wommen som mercy, 95a 
 
 And lat our sorwe sinken in thyn herte.’ 
 
 This gentil duk doun from his courser sterte 
 
40 
 
 THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 With herte pitous, whan he herde hem speke 
 Him thoughte that his lierte wolde breke, 
 
 Whan he saugh hem so pitous and so mat, 
 
 That whilom weren of so greet estat ; 
 
 And in his armes he hem alle up hente,° 
 
 And hem conforteth 0 in ful good entente, 
 
 And swoor his ooth, as he was trewe knight, 
 
 He wolde doon so ferforthly his might 
 Upon the tiraunt Creon hem to wreke, 
 
 That al the peple of Grece sholde speke 
 How Creon was of Theseus y-served 
 As he that hadde his deeth ful wel deserved. 
 And right anoon withouten more abood 
 His baner he desplayeth and forth rood 
 To Thebes-ward, and al his host biside. 
 
 No neer Atthenes wolde he go ne ride, 
 
 Ne take his ese fully half a day, 
 
 But onward on his wey that night he lay ; 
 
 And sente anoon Ipolita the quene, 
 
 And Emelye hir yonge suster shene, 
 
 Unto the toun of Atthenes to dwelle, 
 
 And forth he rit ; ther is namore to telle. 
 
 The rede statue of Mars with spere and targe 
 So shineth in his white baner large, 
 
 That alle the feeldes 0 gliteren up and doun ; 
 
 95 S 
 
 960 
 
 965 
 
 970 
 
 975 
 
THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 41 
 
 And by his baner born is his penoun 
 Of gold ful riche, in which ther was y-bete 
 The Minotaur which that he slough in Crete. 980 
 
 Thus rit this duk, thus rit this conquerour, 
 
 And in his host of chivalrye the flour, 
 
 Til that he cam to Thebes, and alighte 
 Baire in a feeld, ther as he thoughte fighte. 0 
 But shortly for to speken of this thing, 985 
 
 With Creon, which that was of Thebes king, 
 
 He f aught, and slough him manly as a knight 
 In pleyn bataille, and putte the folk to flight ; 
 
 And by assaut he wan the citee after, 
 
 And rente adoun bothe wal and sparre and rafter ; 990 
 
 And to the ladies he restored agayn 
 
 The bones of hir housbondes that were slayn, 
 
 To doon obsequies, as was tho the gise. 
 
 But it were al to longe for to devise 
 
 The grete clamour and the waymentinge 995 
 
 That the ladies made at the bremiinge 
 
 Of the bodies, and the grete honour 
 
 That Theseus, the noble conquerour, 
 
 Doth to the ladies, whan they from him wente ; 
 
 But shortly for to telle is myn entente. 1000 
 
 Whan that this worthy duk, this Theseus, 
 
 Hath Creon slayn, and wonne Thebes thus, 
 
42 
 
 THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 Stille in that feeld he took al night his reste, 
 And dide with al the contree as him leste. 
 
 To ransake in the tas of bodies dede, 
 
 Hem for to strepe of harneys and of wede, 
 
 The pilours diden bisinesse 0 and cure, 
 
 After the bataille and disconfiture. 
 
 And so bifel that in the tas they founde, 
 Thurgh-girt with many a grevous, blody wounde, 
 Two yonge knightes ligging by and by, 
 
 Bothe in oon armes wrought f ul richely ; 
 
 Of whiche two, Arcita highte that oon, 
 
 And that other knight highte Palamon. 
 
 N at fully quike ne fully deed they were, 
 
 But by hir cote-armures and by hir gere 
 The heraudes knewe hem best in special 0 
 As they that weren of the blood royal 
 Of Thebes, and of sustren two y-born. 
 
 Out of the tas the pilours han hem torn, 
 
 And han hem caried softe unto the tente 
 Of Theseus ; and he ful sone hem sente 
 To Atthenes, to dwellen in prisoun 
 Perpetually, he nolde no raunsoun. 
 
 And whan this worthy duk hath thus y-don, 
 
 He took his host and hoom he rit anon 
 With laurer crowned as a conquerour ; 
 
THE KNIGHT’S TALE 
 
 43 
 
 And there he livith in joye and in honour 
 Terme of his lyf ; what nedeth wordes mo ? 
 
 And in a tour in angwish and in wo 2030 
 
 This Palamon and his felawe Arcite 0 
 
 For evermore ; ther may no gold hem quite. 
 
 This passeth yeer by yeer and day by day, 
 
 Til it hi ones in a morwe of May 
 
 That Emelye, that fairer was to sene 1035 
 
 Than is the lilie upon his stalke grene, 
 
 And fresher than the May with floures newe 
 (For with the rose 0 colour strof hir hewe, 
 
 I noot which was the fairer of hem two), 
 
 Er it were day, as was hir wone to do, 1040 
 
 She was arisen and al redy dight ; 
 
 For May wol have no slogardye anight. 
 
 The sesoun priketh every gentil herte, 
 
 And maketh him out of his sleep to sterte, 
 
 And seith, 6 Arys, and do thyn observaunce. 0 * 
 
 This maketh Emelye have remembraunce 
 To doon honour to May, and for to rise. 0 
 Y-clothed was she fresh, for to devise 0 ; 
 
 Hir yelow heer was broyded in a tresse, 
 
 Bihinde hir bak, a yerde long, I gesse. 
 
 And in the gardin, at the sonne° upriste, 
 
 She walketh up and doun, and as her liste° 
 
 105a 
 
44 
 
 THE KNIGHT’S TALE 
 
 She gadereth floures, party white and rede, 
 
 To make a subtil gerland for hir hede, 
 
 And as an aungel hevenishly she song. 
 
 The grete tour, that was so thikke and strong, 
 Which of the castel was the chief dongeoun, 
 
 Ther as the knightes weren in prisoun 
 (Of which I tolde you and tellen shal°), 
 
 Was evene joynant to the gardin-wal, 
 
 Ther as this Emelye hadde hir pleyinge. 0 
 Bright was the sonne and cleer in that morninge, 
 And Palamon, this woful prisoner, 
 
 As was his wone, by leve of his gayler, 
 
 Was risen, and romed in a chambre on heigh, 
 
 In which he al the noble citee seigh, 
 
 And eek the gardin, ful of braunches grene, 
 
 Ther as this freshe Emelye the shene 
 Was in hir walk, and romed up and doun. 
 
 This sorweful prisoner, this Palamoun, 
 
 Goth in the chambre, roming to and fro, 
 
 And to himself compleyning of his wo ; 
 
 That he was born, ful ofte he seyde, alas ! 
 
 And so bifel, by aventure or cas, 
 
 That thurgh a window, thikke of many a barre 
 Of iren greet, and square as any sparre, 
 
 He caste his eye upon Emelya, 
 
 I0 55 
 
 106c 
 
 1065 
 
 1070 
 
 1075 
 
THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 45 
 
 And tlierwithal lie bleynte and cride ‘ A! ’ 
 
 As though he stongen were unto the herte. 
 
 And with that cry Arcite anon up-sterte, 
 
 And seyde, 4 Cosin myn, what eyleth thee, 
 
 That art so pale and deedly on to see ? 
 
 Why cridestow ? who hath thee doon offence ? 
 For Goddes love, tak al in pacience 
 Our prisoun, for it may non other be ; 
 
 Fortune hath yeven us this adversitee. 
 
 Som wikke aspect or disposicioun 0 
 Of Saturne by sum constellacioun, 
 
 Hath yeven us this, although we hadde it sworn; 
 So stood the hevene whan that we were born, 
 
 We moste endure it, this is the short and pleyn.’ 
 This Palamon answerde and seyde ageyn, 
 
 ‘ Cosin, for sothe, of this opinioun 
 Thou hast a veyn imaginacioun . 0 
 This prison caused me nat for to crye, 
 
 But I was hurt right now tliurgh-out myn ye 
 Into myn herte, that 0 wol my bane be. 
 
 The fairnesse of that lady that I see 
 Yond in the gardin romen to and fro 
 Is cause of al my crying and my wo. 
 
 I noot wher she be worn man or goddesse, 
 
 But Venus is it, soothly, as I gesse.’ 
 
 1080 
 
 1085 
 
 1090 
 
 1095 
 
 1100 
 
46 
 
 THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 And therwithal on knees doun he fil 
 
 And seyde, 1 Venus, if it be thy wil 
 
 Yow° in this gardin thus to transfigure 1105 
 
 Bifore me, sorweful, wrecche creature, 
 
 Out of this prise un help that we may scapen. 
 
 And if so be my destinee be shapen 
 By eterne word to dyen in prisoun, 
 
 Of our linage have som compassioun mo 
 
 That is so lowe y-brought by tirannye.* 
 
 And with that word Arcite gan espye 
 Wher as this lady romed to and fro, 
 
 And with that sighte hir beau tee hurte him so, 
 
 That, if that Palamon was wounded sore, 1115 
 
 Arcite is hurt as moche as he, or more. 
 
 And with a sigh he seyde pitously, 
 
 ‘ The freslie beautee sleetli me sodeynly 
 Of hir that rometh in the yonder place ; 
 
 And but I have hir mercy and hir grace, 1120 
 
 That I may seen hir atte leste weye,° 
 
 I nam but deed ; ther nis no more to seye.’ 
 
 This Palamon, whan he tho wordes herde, 
 Dispitously he loked and answerde, 
 
 ‘ Whether 0 seistow this in ernest or in pley ? 9 1125 
 
 ‘Nay,’ quod Arcite, ‘in ernest, by my fey! 
 
 God help me so, me list ful evele pleye. 0 * 
 
THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 This Palamon gan knitte his brovves tweye 
 1 It nere/ quod he, ‘ to thee no greet honour 
 For to be fals ne for to be traitour 
 To me, that am thy cosin and thy brother 
 Y-sworn° ful depe and ech of us til other, 
 That never, for to dyen in the peyne,° 
 
 Til that the deeth departe shal us tweyne, 
 Neither of us in love to hindren other, 
 
 Ne in non other cas, my leve brother ; 
 
 But that thou sholdest trewely forthren me 
 In every cas, and I shal forthren thee. 
 
 This was thyn ooth and myn also certeyn, 
 
 I wot right wel, thou darst it nat withseyn. 
 Thus artow of my counseil out of doute. 
 
 And now thou woldest falsly been aboute? 
 
 To love my lady whom I love and serve, 
 
 And evere shal til that myn herte sterve. 
 Now certes, false Arcite, thou shalt nat so; 
 
 I loved hir first, and tolde thee my wo 
 As to my counseil and my brother sworn 
 To forthre me, as I have told biforn. 
 
 For which thou art y-bounden as a knight 
 To helpen me, if it lay in thy might, 
 
 Or elles artow fals, I dar wel seym* 
 
 This Arcite ful proudly spak ageyn, 
 
48 
 
 THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 ‘ Thou shalt,° ’ quod he, ‘ be rather fals than I ; 
 
 But thou art° fals, I telle thee, utterly ; 
 
 For par amour 0 I loved hir first er thow. 1155 
 
 What wiltow seyn ? thou wistest nat yet now 
 Whether she be a womman or goddesse ! 
 
 Thyn is affeccioun of holinesse, 
 
 And myn is love as to a creature ; 
 
 For which I tolde thee myn aventure 1160 
 
 As to my cosin and my brother sworn. 
 
 I pose that thou lovedest hir biforn, 
 
 Wostow nat wel the olde clerkes sawe, 
 
 That 0 66 who shal yeve a lover any lawe ? ” 
 
 Love is a gretter lawe, by my pan, 1165 
 
 Than may be yeve to any erthely man. 
 
 And therfor positif lawe and swich decree 0 
 Is broke alday for love in ech degree. 0 
 A man moot nedes love, maugree his heed ; 
 
 He may nat fleen it, though he sholde be deed, 1170 
 A1 be she 0 mayde or widwe or elles wyf. 
 
 And eek it is nat lykly, al thy lyf, 
 
 To stonden in hir grace, namore shal I ; 
 
 For wel thou wost thyselven, verraily, 
 
 That thou and I b.e dampned to prisoun 1175 
 
 Perpetuelly ; us gayneth no raunsoun. 
 
 We strive, as dide the houndes for the boon, 
 
THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 49 
 
 They foughte al day, and yet hir part was noon ; 
 
 Ther cam a kite, whyl that they were so wrothe, 
 
 And bar awey the boon bitwixe hem bothe. 1180 
 
 And fcherfore at the kinges court, my brother, 
 
 Ech man for himself, ther is non other. 
 
 Love if thee list, for I love and ay shal ; 
 
 And soothly, leve brother, this is al. 
 
 Here in this prisoun mote we endure, 1185 
 
 And everich of us take his a, venture. 5 
 
 Greet was the stryf and long bitwixe hem tweye, 
 
 If that I hadde leyser for to seye ; 
 
 But to theffect. It happed on a day 
 
 (To telle it yow as shortly as I may), 1190 
 
 A worthy duk that highte Perotheus, 
 
 That felawe was unto duk Theseus 
 
 Sin thilke day that they were children lite, 
 
 Was come to Atthenes, his felawe to visite, 
 
 And for to pleye, as he was wont to do ; 119^ 
 
 For in this world he loved no man so, 
 
 And he loved him as tendrely ageyn. 
 
 So wel they loved, as olde bokes seyn,° 
 
 That whan that oon was deed, soothly to telle, 
 
 His felawe wente and soughte him doun in helle — 1200 
 But of that story list me nat to write. 0 
 Duk Perotheus loved wel Arcite, 
 
 E 
 
50 
 
 THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 And hadde him knowe at Thebes yeer by yere. 
 
 And finally, at requeste and preyere 
 
 Of Perotheus, withouten any raunsoun, 1205 
 
 Duk Theseus him leet out of prisoun 
 
 Frely to goon wher that him liste over-al, 
 
 In swich a gise as I you tellen shal. 
 
 This was the forward, pleynly for tendite, 
 
 Bitwixen Theseus and him Arcite: 1210 
 
 That if so were, that Arcite were y-founde 
 Evere in his lyf, by day or night or stounde 
 In any contree of this Theseus, 
 
 And he were caught, it was acorded thus, 
 
 That with a swerd he sholde lese his heed. 1215 
 
 Ther nas noon other remedye ne reed, 
 
 But taketh his leve, and horn ward he him spedde : 
 
 Let him be war, his nekke lith to wedde ! 
 
 How greet a sorwe suffreth now Arcite! 
 
 The deeth he feleth thurgh his herte smite ; 1220 
 
 He wepeth, weyleth, cryeth pitously ; 
 
 To sleen himself he wayteth prively. 0 
 He seyde, ‘ Allas that day that I was born ! 
 
 Now is my prisoun worse than biforn ; 
 
 Now is me shape 0 eternally to dwelle 1225 
 
 Nought in purgatorie, but in helle. 
 
 Allas that ever knew I Perotheus ! 
 
THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 51 
 
 For elles hadde I dwelled with Theseus 
 Y-fetered in his prisoun everemo. 
 
 Than hadde I been in blisse, and nat in wo. 
 Only the sighte of hir whom that I serve, 
 Though that I never hir grace may deserve, 
 AVolde han suffised right ynough for me. 
 
 0 dere cosin Palamon/ quod he, 
 
 4 Thyn is the victorie of this aventure, 
 
 Ful blisfully in prisoun maistow dure ; 
 
 In prisoun ? certes nay, but in paradys ! 
 
 Wei hath Fortune y-turned thee the dys, 
 
 That hast the sight of hir, and I thabsence. 
 For possible is, sin thou hast hir presence, 
 
 And art a knight, a worthy and an able, 
 
 That by som cas, sin Fortune is chaungeable, 
 Thou maist to thy desyr somtime atteyne. 
 
 But I, that am exiled and bareyne 
 Of alle grace and in so greet despeir, 
 
 That ther nis erthe, water, fyr, ne eir, 
 
 Ne creature, 0 that of hem maked is, 
 
 That may me helpe or doon conf ort in this — 
 Wei oughte I sterve in wanliope and distresse; 
 Farwel my lyf, my lust and my gladnesse. 
 
 ‘ Allas, why pleynen folk so in commune 
 Of purveyaunce of God or of fortune. 
 
 1230 
 
 1235 
 
 1240 
 
 1245 
 
 1250 
 
52 
 
 THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 That yeveth hem ful ofte in many a gise 
 Wei bettre than they can hemself devise ? 
 Som man desiretli for to han richesse, 
 
 That cause is of his mordre or greet siknesse. 
 And som man wolde out of his prisoun fayn, 
 That in his hous is of his meynee slayn. 
 Infinite harmes been in this matere 0 ; 
 
 We witen nat what thing we prayen here. 
 
 We faren as he that dronke is as a mous°; 
 
 A dronke man wot wel he hath an hous, 
 
 But he noot which the righte wey is thider ; 
 And to a dronke man the wey is slider; 
 
 And certes in this world so faren we ; 
 
 W e seken faste after felicitee, 
 
 But we goon wrong ful often trewely. 
 
 Thus may we seyen alle, and namely I, 
 
 That weende and hadde a greet opinioun 
 That if I mighte escapen from prisoun, 
 
 Than hadde I been in joye and perfit hele, 
 Ther now I am exiled fro my wele. 
 
 Sin that I may nat seen yow, Emelye, 
 
 I nam but deed ; ther nis no remedye.’ 
 
 Upon that other side Palamon, 
 
 Whan that he wiste Arcite was agon, 
 
 Swich sorwe he maketh that the grete tour 
 
THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 53 
 
 Resouneth of his youling and clamour. 
 
 The pure fettres on his shines grete° 
 
 Weren of his bittre, salte teres wete. 
 
 ‘ Allas ! * quod he, ‘ Arcita, cosin myn, 
 
 Of al our stryf, God woot, the fruyt is thyn. 
 Thow walkest now in Thebes at thy large , 0 
 And of my wo thou yevest litel charge . 0 
 Thou mayst, sin thou hast wisdom and manhede, 
 Assemblen alle the folk of our kinrede, 
 
 And make a werre so sharpe 0 on this citee, 
 
 That by som aventure or som tretee 
 Thou mayst have hir to lady and to wyf 
 For whom that I most nedes lese my lyf. 
 
 For, as by wey of possibilitee, 
 
 Sith thou art at thy large, of prisoun free, 
 
 And art a lord, greet is thyn avauntage, 
 
 More than is myn, that sterve here in a cage. 
 
 For I mot wepe and wayle, whyl I live, 
 
 With al the wo that prisoun may me yive, 
 
 And eek with peyne that love me yiveth also, 
 That doubleth al my torment and my wo.’ 
 Therwith the fyr of jalousye up-sterte 
 Withinne his brest and hente him by the herte 
 So woodly that he lyk was to biholde 0 
 The box-tree, or the ashen dede and colde. 
 
 1280 
 
 1285 
 
 1290 
 
 1295 
 
 1 3°° 
 
54 
 
 THE KNIGHT’S TALE 
 
 Than seyde he, ‘ 0 cruel goddes, that govern© 
 This world with binding of your word eterne, 
 And writen in the table of athamaunt 
 Your parlement and your eterne graunt, 
 
 What is mankinde more unto yow holde° 
 
 Than is the sheep that rouketh in the foide ? 
 
 For slayn is man right as another beest, 
 
 And dwelleth eek in prisoun and arreest, 
 
 And hath siknesse and greet adversitee, 
 
 And ofte times giltelees, pardee. 
 
 ‘ What governaunce is in this prescience, 
 
 That giltelees tormenteth innocence ? 
 
 And yet encresetli this al my penaunce, 
 
 That man is bounden to his observaunce 
 For Goddes sake to letten of his wille° 
 
 Ther as a beest may al his lust fulfille. 
 
 And whan a beest is deed he hath no peyne; 
 
 But man after his deeth moot wepe and pleyne, 
 Though in this world he have care and wo — 
 Withouten doute it may stonden so. 
 
 The answere of this I lete to divinis, 
 
 But wel I woot that in this world gret pine is. 
 Allas, I se a serpent or a theef, 
 
 That many a trewe man hath doon mescheef, 
 Goon at his large, and wher him list may turne $ 
 
 1305 
 
 1310 
 
 l 3 I 5 
 
 1320 
 
 * 3*5 
 
THE KNIGHT 7 S TALE 
 
 55 
 
 But I moot been in prison thurgh Saturne, 
 And eek thurgh Juno, jalous and eek wood, 
 That hath destroyed wel ny al the blood 
 Of Thebes, with his waste walles wide. 
 
 And Venus sleeth me on that other side 
 For jalousye and fere of him Arcite.’ 
 
 Now wol I stinte of Palamon a lite 
 And lete him in his prison stille dwelle, 
 And of Arcita forth I wol yow telle. 
 
 The somer passeth, and the nightes longe 
 Encresen double wise the peynes stronge 
 Bothe of the lovere and the prisoner. 
 
 I noot which hath the wofuller mester. 
 
 For shortly for to seyn, this Palamoun 
 Perpetuelly is dampned to prisoun 
 In eheynes and in fettres to been deed 0 ; 
 And Arcite is exiled upon his heed° 
 
 For everemo as out of that contree, 
 
 Ne neveremo he shal his lady see. 
 
 v ow loveres axe I now this questioun, 
 Who hath the worse, Arcite or Palamoun ? 
 That oon may seen his lady day by day, 
 But in prisoun moot he dwelle alway ; 
 
 That other wher him list may ride or go, 
 But seen his lady shal he neveremo. 
 
 1330 
 
 1335 
 
 1340 
 
 1345 
 
 1350 
 
56 
 
 THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 Now demeth as yow liste, ye that can, 
 
 For I wol telle forth as I bigan. 
 
 Explicit prima pars. Sequitur pars secunda. 
 
 Whan that Arcite to Thebes comem was, 
 
 Ful ofte a day he swelte and seyde ‘ Allas/ 
 
 For seen his lady shal he neveremo. 
 
 And shortly to concluden al his wo, 
 
 So muche sorwe hadde never creature 
 That is, or shal, whyl that the world may dure. 
 His sleep, his mete, his drinke is him biraft, 
 That lene he wex and drye as is a shaft. 
 
 His eyen holwe and grisly to biholde, 
 
 His hewe falwe and pale as ashen colde, 
 
 And solitarie he was, and evere allone, 
 
 And wailling al the night, making his mone. 
 And if he herde song or instrument, 
 
 Than wolde he wepe, he mighte nat be stent. 
 So feble eek were his spirits and so lowe, 
 
 And chaunged so, that no man coude knowe 
 His speche nor his voys, though men it herde. 
 And in his gere, for al the world he ferde 
 Nat only lyk the loveres maladye 
 Of Hereos, but rather lyk manye° 
 
 Engendred of humour malencolik, 
 
 135s 
 
 1360 
 
 1365 
 
 1370 
 
 1375 
 
THE KNIGHT’S TALE 
 
 57 
 
 Biforen in his celle fantastik. 
 
 And, shortly, turned was al up-so-doun 
 Bothe habit and eek disposicioun 
 Of him, this woful lover e, daun Arcite. 
 
 What sholde I alday of his wo endite ? 1380 
 
 Whan he endured hadde a yeer or two 
 This cruel torment and this peyne and wo, 
 
 At Thebes, in his contree, as I seyde, 
 
 Upon a night, in sleep as he him leyde, 
 
 Him thoughte 0 how that the winged god Mercurie 1385 
 Biforn him stood and bad him to be murie. 
 
 His slepy yerde in hond he bar uprighte ; 
 
 An hat he werede upon his heres brighte. 
 
 Arrayed was this god (as he took keep 0 ), 
 
 As he was whan that Argus took his sleep 0 ; 1390 
 
 And seyde him thus, ‘ To Atthenes shaltow wende, 
 Ther is thee shapen of thy wo an ende. ? 
 
 And with that word Arcite wook and sterte. 
 
 6 How trewely, how sore that me smerte,’ 
 
 Quod he, ‘ to Atthenes right now wol I fare ; 1395 
 
 He for the drede of deeth shal I nat spare 
 To see my lady that I love and serve ; 
 
 In hir presence I recche nat to sterve.’ 
 
 And with that word he caughte a greet mirour, 
 
 And saugh that chaunged was al his colour, 1400 
 
58 
 
 THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 And saugh his visage al in another kinde. 
 
 And right anon it ran him in his minde,° 
 
 That, sith his face was so disfigured 
 Of maladye the which he hadde endured, 
 
 He miglite wel, if that he bar him lowe, 
 
 Live in Atthenes everemore unknowe, 
 
 And seen his lady wel ny day by day. 
 
 And right anon he cliaungede his array, 
 
 And cladde him as a povre laborer, 
 
 And al allone, save oonly a squyer, 
 
 That knew his privetee and al his cas, 
 
 Which was disgised povrely, as he was, 
 
 To Atthenes is he goon the nexte way. 
 
 And to the court he wente upon a day, 
 
 And at the gate he*profreth his servise 
 To drugge and drawe, what so men wol devise . 0 
 And shortly of this matere for to seyn, 
 
 He fil in office with a chamberleyn, 
 
 The which that 0 dwellinge was with Ernelye ; 
 For he was wys end coude sone aspye° 
 
 Of every servaunt which that serveth here. 
 
 Wel coude he he wen wode, and water bere, 
 
 For he was yong and mighty for the nones, 
 And therto he was strong and big of bones 
 To doon that any wight can him devise. 
 
 * 4°5 
 
 1410 
 
 1415 
 
 1420 
 
 1425 
 
THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 59 
 
 A yeer or two he was in this servise, 
 
 Page of the chambre of Emelye the brighte ; 
 And Philostrate he seyde that he highte. 
 
 But half so wel biloved a man as he 
 Ne was ther nevere in court, of his degree ; 
 
 He was so gentil of condicioun , 0 
 That thurghout al the court was his renoun. 
 They seyden that it were a charitee 
 That Theseus wolde enhauncen his degree, 
 
 And putten him in worshipful servise, 
 
 Ther as he mighte his vertu excercise. 
 
 And thus withinne a while his name is spronge 
 Bothe of his dedes and his gode tonge 
 That Theseus hath taken him so neer 
 That of his chambre he made him a squyer, 
 And yaf him gold to mayntene his degree. 
 
 And eek men broughte him out of his contree 
 From yeer to yeer ful prively his rente ; 
 
 But honestly and slily he it spente, 
 
 That no man wondred how that he it hadde. 
 And thre yeer in this wise his lyf he ladde, 
 
 And bar him so in pees and eek in werre, 
 
 Ther nas no man that Theseus hath derre.° 
 
 And in this blisse lete I now Arcite 
 And speke I wol of Palamon a lite. 
 
 143° 
 
 1435 
 
 1440 
 
 1445 
 
 145 ° 
 
60 
 
 THE KNIGHT’S TALE 
 
 In derknesse and horrible and strong prisoun 
 This seven yeer hath seten Palamoun 
 Forpined what° for wo and for distresse. 
 
 Who feleth double soor and hevinesse 
 
 But Palamon, that love destreyneth so 1455 
 
 That wood out of his wit he goth for wo ! 
 
 And eek therto he is a prisoner 
 Perpetuelly, nought only for a yeer. 
 
 Who coude rime in English proprely 
 
 His martirdom? for sotlie it am nat I 0 ,; 1460 
 
 Therefore I passe as lightly as I may. 
 
 It fel that in the seventhe yeer, in May, 
 
 The thridde night (as olde bokes seyn, 
 
 That al this storie tellen more pleyn) 
 
 Were it by aventure or destinee, — 1465 
 
 As, whan a thing is shapen, it shal be,° — 
 
 That sone after the midnight Palamoun 
 By helping of a freend brak his prisoun, 
 
 And fleeth the citee faste as he may go ; 
 
 For he had yeve his gayler drinke so 1470 
 
 Of a clarree, maad of a certeyn wyn, 
 
 With nercotikes and opie of Thebes fyn, 
 
 That al that night, though that men wolde him shake, 
 The gayler sleep, he mighte nat awake; 
 
 And thus he fleeth as faste as ever he may. 1475 
 
THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 61 
 
 The night was short and faste by the day, 
 
 That nedes-cost he moste himselven hide, 
 
 And til a grove faste ther biside 
 
 With dredful foot than stalketh Palamoun. 
 
 For shortly, this was his opinioun, 1480 
 
 That in that grove he wolde him hide al day, 
 
 And in the night than wolde he take his way 
 To Thebes-ward, his freendes for to preye 
 On Theseus to lielpe him to werreye ; 
 
 And shortly, outher he wolde lese his lyf, 1485 
 
 Or winnen Emelye unto his wyf ; 
 
 This is theffeet and his entente pleyn. 
 
 Now wol I turne unto Arcite ageyn, 
 
 That litel wiste how ny that 0 was his care, 
 
 Til that fortune had brought him in the snare. 0 1490 
 The bisy larke, messager of day,° 
 
 Salueth in hir song the morwe gray ; 
 
 And firy Phebus riseth up so brighte 
 
 That al the orient laugheth of the lighte, 0 
 
 And with his stremes 0 dryeth in the greves 1495 
 
 The silver dropes hanging on the leves. 
 
 And Arcita, that is in the court royal 
 With Theseus, his squyer principal, 
 
 Is risen and loketh on the merie day. 
 
 And, for to doon his observaunce to May, 1500 
 
62 
 
 THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 Remembringe on the poynt of his desyr,° 
 
 He on a courser, startlinge as the fyr, 
 
 Is riden into the feeldes him to pleye, 
 
 Out of the court, were 0 it a mile or tweye ; 
 
 And to the grove of which that I yow tolde 1505 
 
 By aventure his wey he gan to holde, 
 
 To maken him a gerland of the greves, 
 
 Were it of wodebinde or liawethorn leves; 
 
 And loude he song ageyn the sonne shene° : 
 
 ‘ May, with alle thy floures and thy grene 1510 
 
 Welcome be thou, faire freshe May, 
 
 I hope that I som grene gete may . 5 
 And from his courser with a lusty herte 
 Into the grove ful hastily he sterte, 
 
 And in a path he rometh up and doun, 1515 
 
 Ther as by aventure this Palamoun 
 
 Was in a bush, that no man mighte him see, 
 
 For sore afered of his deeth was he. 
 
 Nothing ne knew he that it was Arcite ; 
 
 God wot he wolde have trowed it ful lite. 1520 
 
 But sooth is seyd, gon sithen many yeres,° 
 
 That feeld hath eyen and the wode hath eres.° 
 
 It is ful fair a man to bere him evene, 
 
 For alday meteth men at unset stevene . 0 
 Ful litel wot Arcite of his felawe, 
 
 1525 
 
THE KNIGHT’S TALE 
 
 63 
 
 That was so ny to herknen al his sawe, 
 
 For in the bush he sitteth now ful stille. 
 
 Whan that Arcite hadde romed al his fille, 
 And songen al the roundel lustily, 
 
 Into a studie he fil sodeynly, 
 
 As doon thise lo veres in hir queynte geres, 
 Now in the croppe, now doun in the breres, 
 Now up, now doun, as boket in a welle. 
 
 Eight as the Friday , 0 soothly for to telle, 
 Now it shineth, now it reyneth faste, — 
 Eight so can gery Venus overcaste 
 The hertes of hir folk ; right as hir day 
 Is gerful, right so chaungeth she array. 
 
 ‘Selde is the Friday al the wike ylike.* 
 
 Whan that Arcite had songe, he gan to sike, 
 And sette him doun withouten any more : 
 c Allas/ quod he, ‘ that day that I was bore ! 
 How longe, Juno, thurgh thy crueltee, 
 Woltow werreyen Thebes the citee ? 
 
 Allas, y-brought is to confusioun 
 The blood royal of Cadme and Amphioun, — 
 Of Cadmus, which that was the firste man 
 That Thebes bulte, or first the toun bigan, 
 And of the citee first was crouned king. 
 
 Of his linage am I and his ofspring 
 
 NS- 
 
 *535 
 
 1540 
 
 1545 
 
 1550 
 
64 
 
 THE KNIGHT’S TALE 
 
 By verray ligne as of the stok royal ; 
 
 And now I am So caitif and so thral, 
 
 That he that is my mortal enemy, 
 
 I serve him as his squyer povrely. 
 
 And yet doth Juno me wel more shame, 1555 
 
 For I dar nought biknowe myn owene name, 
 
 But ther as I was wont to highte Arcite, 
 
 Now highte I Philostrate, nought worth a mite. 
 
 Allas, thou felle Mars ! alias, J uno ! 
 
 Thus hath your ire our kinrede al fordo 1560 
 
 Save only me and wrecched Palamoun, 
 
 That Theseus martireth in prisoun. 
 
 And over al this, to sleen me outrely, 
 
 Love hath his firy dart so brenningly 
 Y-stiked thurgh my trewe, careful herte, 1565 
 
 That shapen was my deeth erst than my sherte. 0 
 Ye sleen me with your eyen, Emelye ! 
 
 Ye been the cause wherfor that I dye ! 
 
 Of al the remenant of myn other care 
 
 Ne sette I nat the mountaunce of a tare, 1570 
 
 So that I coude doon aught to your plesaunce.’ 
 
 And with that word he fil doun in a traunce 
 A longe time ; and afterward he upsterte. 
 
 This Palamoun, that thoughte that thurgh his herte 
 He felte a cold swerd sodeynliche glide, 1575 
 
THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 65 
 
 For ire he quook, no lenger wolde he bide. 
 
 And whan that he had herd Arcites tale, 
 
 As he were wood, with face deed and pale, 
 
 He sterte him up out of the buskes thikke, 
 
 And seyde, ‘ Arcite, false traitour wikke, 
 
 Now artow hent, that lovest my lady so 
 For whom that I have al this peyne and wo ; 
 And art my blood, and to my counseil sworn, 
 
 As I ful ofte have told thee heer-biforn ; 
 
 And hast bi-japed heer duk Theseus, 
 
 And falsly chaunged hast thy name thus ; — 
 
 I wol be deed, or elles thou shalt dye. 
 
 Thou shalt nat love my lady Emelye, 
 
 But I wol love hir only and namo° ; 
 
 For I am Palamoun, thy mortal fo. 
 
 And though that I no wepne have in this place, 
 But out of prisoun am astert by grace, 
 
 I drede nought that outher thou shalt dye, 
 
 Or thou ne shalt nat loven Emelye. 
 
 Chees which thou wolt, or thou shalt nat asterte. ? 
 
 This Arcite, with ful despitous herte, 
 
 Whan he him knew and hadde his tale herd, 
 
 As fiers as leoun, pulled out a swerd, 
 
 And seyde thus, ‘ By God that sit above, 
 
 Nere it that thou art syk and wood for love, 
 
 F 
 
 1580 
 
 1585 
 
 1590 
 
 1595 
 
 1600 
 
66 
 
 THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 And eek that thou no wepne hast in this place, 
 
 Thou sholdest nevere out of this grove pace, 
 
 That thou ne sholdest dyen of myn hond.° 
 
 For I defye the seuretee and the bond 
 
 Which that thou seyst that I have maad to thee. 1605 
 
 What, verray fool, think wel that love is free ! 
 
 And I wol love hir maugre al thy might. 
 
 But, for as muche as thou art a worthy knight 
 And wilnest to darreyne hir by bataille, 
 
 Have heer my trouthe, tomorwe I wol nat faille, 1610 
 Withouten witing of any other wight, 
 
 That heer I wol be founden as a knight, 
 
 And bringen harneys right ynough for thee; 
 
 And chees° the beste and leve the worste for me. 
 
 And mete and drinke this night wol I bringe 1615 
 Ynough for thee, and clothes for thy beddinge. 
 
 And, if so be that thou my lady winne 
 And sle me in this wode ther I am inne, 
 
 Thou mayst wel have thy lady as for me.’ 
 
 This Palamon answerde, ‘ I graunte it thee.’ 1620 
 And thus they been departed til amorwe, 
 
 When ech of hem had leyd his feith to borwe.° 
 
 0 Cupide, out of alle charitee 0 ! 
 
 0 regne that wolt no felawe have with thee ! 
 
 Ful sooth is seyd° that love ne lordshipe 
 
 1625 
 
THE KNIGHT’S TALE 
 
 67 
 
 Wol nought, his thankes, 0 have no felaweshipe; 
 
 Wei finden that Arcite and Palamoun ! 
 
 Arcite is riden anon unto the toun, 
 
 And on the morwe, er it were dayes light, 
 
 Ful prively two harneys hath he dight, 1630 
 
 Bothe suffisaunt and mete to darreyne 
 
 The bataille in the feeld bitwix hem tweyne. 
 
 And on his hors, allone as he was born, 
 
 He carieth al this harneys him biforn ; 
 
 And in the grove at time and place y-set 1635 
 
 This Arcite and this Palamon ben met. 
 
 Tho chaungen gan the colour in hir face ; 
 
 Right as the hunters in the regne of Trace, 
 
 That stondeth at the gappe with a spere, 
 
 Whan hunted is the leoun or the bere, 1640 
 
 And hereth him come rushing in the greves, 
 
 And breketh 0 bothe bowes and the leves, 
 
 And thinketh, 0 ‘ heer cometh my mortel enemy, 
 Withoute faile he moot be deed or I ; 
 
 For outher I moot sleen him at the gappe, 1645 
 
 Or he moot sleen me, if that me mishappe. ? 
 
 So ferden they in chaunging of hir hewe, 
 
 As fer as everich of hem other knewe.° 
 
 Ther nas no ‘ Good day/ ne no saluing ; 
 
 But streight withouten word or rehersing,^ 1650 
 
68 
 
 THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 Evericli of hem heelp for to armen other, 
 
 As frendly as he were his owene brother ; 
 
 And after that with sharpe speres stronge 
 They foynen ech at other wonder longe. 
 
 Thou mightest wene that this Palamoun 1655 
 
 In his fighting were a wood leoun, 
 
 And as a cruel tigre was Arcite. 
 
 As wilde bores gonne they to smite, 
 
 That frothen white as foom for ire wood. 
 
 Up to the ancle foughte they in hir blood. 0 1660 
 
 And in this wise I lete hem fighting dwelle ; 
 
 And forth I wol of Theseus yow telle. 
 
 The Destinee, Ministre General, 
 
 That executeth in the world over-al 
 The purveyaunce that God hath seyn biforn, 0 1665 
 So strong it is that, though the world had sworn 
 The contrarie of a thing by ye or nay, 
 
 Yet somtime it shal fallen on a day 
 
 That falleth nat eft withinne a thousand yere. 
 
 For certeynly oure appetites here, 1670 
 
 Be it of werre or pees or hate or love, — 
 
 A 1 is this reuled by the sighte above. 
 
 This mene I now by mighty Theseus, 0 
 That for to honten is so desirous, 
 
 And namely at the grete hert in May, 1675 
 
THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 69 
 
 That in his bed ther daweth him no day, 
 
 That he nis clad, and redy for to ride 
 
 With hunte and horn, and houndes him biside. 
 
 For in his hunting hath he swich delyt, 
 
 That it is al his joye and appetyt 
 To been himself the grete hertes bane ; 
 
 For after Mars he serveth now Diane. 
 
 Cleer was the day, as I have told er this, 
 
 And Theseus, with alle joye and blis, 
 
 With his Ipolita, the faire quene, 
 
 And Emelye, clothed al in grene, 
 
 On hunting be they riden royally. 
 
 And to the grove, that stood ful faste by, 
 
 In which ther was an hert, as men him tolde, 
 Duk Theseus the streighte wey hath holde. 
 
 And to the launde he rideth him ful right, 
 
 For tliider was the hert wont have his flight, 
 And over a brook, and so forth on his w eye. 
 
 This duk wol han a cours at him or tweye 
 With houndes swiche as that him list comaunde. 
 
 And whan this duk was come unto the launde, 
 Under the sonne° he loketh, and anon 
 He was war of Arcite and Palamon, 
 
 That foughten breme, as it were bores two. 
 
 The brighte swerdes wenten to and fro 
 
 1680 
 
 1685 
 
 1690 
 
 1695 
 
 1700 
 
70 
 
 THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 So hidously, that with the leeste strook 
 It semed as it wolde felle an ook ; 
 
 But what they were, nothing he ne woot. 
 
 This duk his courser with his spores smoot, 
 
 And at a stert he was bitwix hem two, 1705 
 
 And pulled out a swerd and cride, ‘ Ho ! 
 
 Hamore, up peyne° of lesing of your heed ! 
 
 By mighty Mars, he shal anon be deed 
 That smiteth any strook that I may seen ! 
 
 But telleth me what mister men ye been, 1710 
 
 That been so hardy for to fighten here 
 Withouten juge or other officere, 
 
 As it were in a listes 0 royally ? J 
 
 This Palamon answerde hastily, 
 
 And seyde, ‘ Sire, what nedeth wordes mo° ? 1715 
 
 We have the deeth deserved bothe two. 
 
 Two woful wrecches been we, two caytives, 
 
 That been encombred of our owene lives ; 
 
 And as thou art a rightful lord and juge, 
 
 He yeve us neither mercy ne refuge, ^720 
 
 But sle me first for seynte charitee, 
 
 But sle my felawe eek as wel as me ; 
 
 Or sle him first ; for, though thou knowest it lite. 
 
 This is thy mortal fo, this is Arcite, 
 
 That fro thy lond is banished on his heed, 1725 
 
 p 
 
THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 71 
 
 For which he hath deserved to be deed. 
 
 For this is he that cam unto thy gate 
 And seyde that he highte Philostrate. 
 
 Thus hath he japed thee ful many a yeer, 
 And thou has maked him thy chief squyer ; 
 And this is he that loveth Emelye. 
 
 For sith the day is come that I shal dye, 
 
 I make pleynly my confessioun, 
 
 That I am thilke woful Palamoun, 
 
 That hath thy prisoun broken wikkedly. 
 
 I am thy mortal foo, and it am 1° 
 
 That loveth so hote Emelya the brighte, 
 
 That I wol dye present in hir sighte. 
 
 Therfore I axe deeth and my juwise ; 
 
 But sle my felawe in the same wise, 
 
 For bothe han we deserved to be slayn. ? 
 
 This worthy duk answerde anon agayn, 
 And seide, ‘This is a short conclusioun: 
 Youre owene mouth by your confessioun 
 Hath dampned you, and I wol it recorde, 
 
 It nedeth nought to pine yow with the corde ; 
 Ye shul be deed, by mighty Mars the redeP 
 The quene anon, for verray wommanhede 
 Gan for to wepe, and so dide Emelye, 
 
 And alle the ladies in the compaignye. 
 
 1730 
 
 1735 
 
 1740 
 
 1745 
 
 1750 
 
72 
 
 THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 Gret pitee was it, as it thoughte hem alle, 
 
 That evere swich a chaunce sholde falle ; 
 
 For gentil men they were of greet estat, 
 
 And nothing but for love was this debat. 
 
 And sawe° hir blody woundes wide and sore ; 1755 
 
 And alle criden bothe lasse and more, 
 
 ‘ Have mercy, Lord, upon us wommen alle ! ? 
 
 And on hir bare knees adoun they falle, 
 
 And wolde have kist his feet ther as he stood, 
 
 Til at the laste aslaked was his mood ; 1760 
 
 For pitee renneth sone in gentil herte.° 
 
 And though he hrste for ire quook and sterte, 
 
 He hath considered shortly in a clause 
 The trespas of hem bothe, and eek the cause. 
 
 And although that his ire hir gilt accused, 1765 
 
 Yet in his resoun he hem bothe excused; 
 
 And thus he thoughte wel that every man 
 Wol helpe himself in love, if that he can, 
 
 And eek delivere himself out of prisoun ; 
 
 And eek his herte hadde compassioun 1770 
 
 Of wommen, for they wepen evere in oon ; 
 
 And in his gentil herte he thoughte anoon, 
 
 And softe unto himself he seyde, 4 Fy 
 Upon a lord that wol have no mercy, 
 
 But been a leoun, bothe in word and dede, 
 
 1775 
 
THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 73 
 
 To hem that been in repentaunce and drede, 
 
 As wel as to a proud despitous man 
 That wol maynteyne that he first bigan ! 
 
 That lord hath litel of'discrecioun, 
 
 That in swich cas can° no divisioun, 1780 
 
 But weyeth pride and humblesse after con. 0 ’ 
 
 And shortly, whan his ire is thus agoon, 
 
 He gan to loken up with eyen lighte, 
 
 And spak thise same wordes al on highte : 
 
 ‘ The god of love, A ! benedicite 0 ! *785 
 
 How mighty and how greet a lord is he ! 
 
 Ayeyns his might ther gayneth none obstacles, 
 
 He may be cleped a god for his miracles ; 
 
 For he can rnaken at his owene gise 
 
 Of everich herte, as that him list devise. 1790 
 
 Lo heer this Arcite and this Palamoun, 
 
 That quitly weren out of my prisoun, 
 
 And mighte han lived in Thebes royally, 
 
 And witen I am hir mortal enemy, 
 
 And that hir deeth lith in my might also; 1795 
 
 And yet hath love, maugree hir eyen two, 
 
 Y-brought hem hider bothe for to dye ! 
 
 Now loketh, is nat that an heigh folye? 
 
 “ Who may been a fool, but if he love ? 0 99 
 
 Bihold, for Goddes sake that sit above, 1800 
 
74 
 
 THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 Se how they blede ! be they nought wel arrayed ? 
 Thus hath hir lord; the god of love, y-payed 
 Hir wages and hir fees for hir servise ! 
 
 And yet they wenen for to been ful wise 
 
 That serven love, for aught that may bifalle ! 1805 
 
 But this is yet the beste game of alle, 
 
 That she, for whom they han this jolitee, 
 
 Can hem therfor as muche thank as me° ; 
 
 She woot namore of al this hote fare, 
 
 By God, than woot a cokkow or an hare ! 1810 
 
 “ But al moot been assayed, hoot and cold ; 
 
 A man moot been a fool, or yong or old ; ” 
 
 I woot it by myself ful yore agoon ; 
 
 For in my time a servant was I oon.° 
 
 And therfor, sin I knowe of loves peyne, 1815 
 
 And woot how sore it can a man distreyne, 
 
 As he that hath ben caught ofte in his las, 
 
 I yow foryeve al hoolly this trespas, 
 
 At requeste of the quene, that kneleth here, 
 
 And eek of Emelye, my suster dere. 1820 
 
 And ye shul bothe anon unto me swere, 
 
 That neveremo ye shul my contree dere, 
 
 Ne make werre upon me night ne day, 
 
 But been my freendes in al that ye may ; 
 
 I yow foryeve this trespas every deel.’ 1825 
 
THE KNIGHT’S TALE 
 
 75 
 
 And they him swore his axing fayre and weel, 
 
 And him of lordshipe and of mercy preyde ; ° 
 
 And he hem graunteth grace, and thus he seyde : 
 
 ‘ To speke of ° royal linage and richesse, 
 
 Though that she were a quene or a princesse, 1830 
 Ech of yow bothe is worthy, doutelees, 
 
 To wedden whan time is, but nathelees 
 (I speke as for my suster Emelye, 
 
 For whom ye have this stryf and jalousye), 
 
 Ye woot yourself she may not wedden two 1835 
 
 At ones, though ye tighten evermo, — 
 
 That oon of yow, al be him looth or lief,° 
 
 He moot go pipen in an ivy leef ; 
 
 This is to seyn, she may nat now han bothe, 
 
 Al be ye never so jalous ne so wrothe. 1840 
 
 And for-thy I yow putte in this degree 
 That ech of yow shal have his destinee 
 As him is shape ; and herkneth in what wise, 
 
 Lo heer your ende of that I shal devise. 
 
 My wil is this, for plat conclusioun 1845 
 
 Withouten any replicacioun, — 
 
 If that yow liketh, tak it for the beste : 
 
 That everich of yow shal goon wher him leste 
 Frely, withouten raunsoun or daunger; 
 
 And this day fifty wikes, fer ne ner,° 
 
 1850 
 
76 
 
 THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 Everich of yow shal bringe an hundred knightes, 
 Armed for listes up at alle rightes, 0 
 A 1 redy to darreyne hir by bataille. 
 
 And this bihote I yow withouten faille 
 
 Upon my trouthe, and as I am a knight, 1855 
 
 That whether of yow bothe that hath might, 
 
 This is to seyn, that whether he or thou 
 May with his hundred, as I spak of how, 
 
 Sleen his contrarie, or out of listes drive, — 
 
 Than shal I yeve Emelya to wive i860 
 
 To whom that fortune yeveth so fair a grace. 
 
 The listes shal I maken in this place, 
 
 And God so wisly on my soule rewe, 
 
 As I shal even juge been and trewe. 
 
 Ye shul non other ende with me maken, 1865 
 
 That oon of yow ne shal be deed or taken. 
 
 And if yow thinketh this is wel y-sayd, 
 
 Seyth your avys and holdeth yow apayd. 
 
 This is your ende and your conclusioun.’ 
 
 Who loketh lightly now but Palamoun ? 1870 
 
 Who springeth up for joye but Arcite ? 
 
 Who couthe telle, or who couthe it endite, 
 
 The joye that is maked in the place 
 Whan Theseus hath doon so fair a grace ? 
 
 But doun on knees wente every maner wight, 1875 
 
THE KNIGHT’S TALE 
 
 77 
 
 And thanked him with al hir herte and might, 
 
 And namely the Thebans ofte sithe. 
 
 And thus with good hope and with herte blithe 
 They take hir leve, and homward gonne they ride 
 To Thebes with his olde walles wide. 1880 
 
 Explicit secunda pars. Sequitur pars tercia. 
 
 I trowe men wolde deme it necligence, 
 
 If I foryete to tellen the dispence 
 Of Theseus, that goth so bisily 
 To maken up the listes royally ; 
 
 That swich a noble theatre as it was, 1885 
 
 I dar wel seyu that in this world ther nas. 
 
 The circuit a mile was aboute, 
 
 Walled of stoon and diched al withoute. 
 
 Round was the shap in manere of compas, 
 
 Ful of degrees the heighte of sixty pas, 1890 
 
 That, whan a man was set on o degree, 
 
 He letted nat his felawe for to see. 
 
 Estward ther stood a gate of marbel whyt, 
 Westward right swich another in the opposyt. 
 
 And shortly to concluden, swich a place 1895 
 
 Was noon in ertlie as in so litel space; 
 
 For in the lond ther nas no crafty man 
 That geometrie or ars-metrike can, 
 
78 
 
 THE KNIGHT 7 S TALE 
 
 Ne purtreyour ne kerver of images, 
 
 That Theseus ne yaf him mete and wages 
 The theatre for to maken and devise. 
 
 And for to doon his rite and sacrifise, 
 
 He estward hath upon the gate above, 
 
 In worship of Venus, goddesse of love, 
 
 Doon make 0 an auter and an oratorie ; 
 
 And westward, in the minde and in memorie 
 Of Mars, he maked hath right swich another, 
 That coste largely of gold a fother. 
 
 And northward, in a touret on the wal, 
 
 Of alabastre whyt and reed coral 
 An oratorie riche for to see, 
 
 In worship of Diane of chastitee, 
 
 Hath Theseus don wrought 0 in noble wise. 
 But yet hadde I foryeten to devise 
 The noble kerving, and the portreytures, 
 
 The shap, the contenaunce, and the figures, 
 That weren in thise oratories thre. 
 
 First in the temple of Venus maystow se 
 Wrought on the wal, ful pitous to biholde, 
 The broken slepes and the sikes colde°, 
 
 The sacred teres and the waymentinge, 
 
 The firy strokes of the desiringe, 
 
 That loves servaunts in this lyf enduren ; 
 
 1900 
 
 1905 
 
 1910 
 
 1915 
 
 1920 
 
THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 79 
 
 The othes that hir covenants assuren ; 
 
 Plesaunce and Hope, Desyr, Foolhardinesse, 0 1925 
 Beautee and Youthe, Bauderye, Bichesse, 
 
 Charmes and Force, Lesinges, Flaterye, 
 
 Dispense, Bisinesse, and Jalousye, 
 
 That wered of yelwe goldes a gerland, 
 
 And a cokkow sittinge on hir hand ; 1930 
 
 Festes, instruments, caroles, daunces, 
 
 Lust and array, and alle the circumstaunces 
 Of love whiche that I rekne and rekne shal, 
 
 By ordre° weren peynted on the wal, 
 
 And mo than I can make of mencioun. 
 
 For soothly, al the mount of Citheroun, 
 
 Ther Venus hath hir principal dwellinge, 
 
 Was shewed on the wal in portreyinge, 
 
 With al the gardin and the lustinesse. 
 
 Nat was foryeten the porter Ydelnesse, 
 
 Ne Narcisus the faire of yore agon,® 
 
 Ne yet the folie of king Salamon, 
 
 Ne yet the grete strengthe of Ercules, 
 Thenchauntements of Medea and Circes, 
 
 Ne of Turnus, with the hardy hers corage, 
 
 The riche Cresus, caytif in servage. 
 
 Thus may ye seen that Wisdom ne Bichesse, 
 
 Beautee ne Sleighte, Strengthe ne Hardin esse. 
 
 1935 
 
 1940 
 
 1945 
 
80 
 
 THE KNIGHT’S TALE 
 
 Ne may with Venus holde champartye; 
 
 For as hir list the world than may she gye. 
 
 Lo, alle thise folk go caught were in hir las 
 Til they for wo ful ofte seyde ‘ Allas ! 9 
 Suffiseth heer ensamples oon or two, 
 
 And though 0 I coude rekne a thousand mo. 
 
 *#*#*## 
 
 A citole in hir right hand Ladde she. 
 
 And on hir heed, ful semely for to se, 
 
 A rose gerland, fresh and wel smellinge 0 j 
 Above hir heed hir dowves flikeringe ; 
 
 Biforn hir stood hir sone Cupido, 
 
 Upon his shuldres winges hadde he two; 
 
 And blind he was, as it is ofte sene ; 
 
 A bowe he bar and arwes brighte and kene. 
 
 Why sholde I nought as wel eek telle yow al 
 The portreiture that was upon the wal 
 Within the temple of mighty Mars the rede? 
 Al peynted was the wal in lengthe and bred© 
 Lyk to the estres of the grisly place 
 That highte the grete temple of Mars in Trace, 
 In thilke colde frosty regioun 
 Ther as Mars hath his sovereyn mansiouiL 
 
THE KNIGHT’S TALE 
 
 81 
 
 First on the wal was peynted a forest* 
 
 In which ther dwelleth neither man ne best/ 
 With knotty* knarry* bareyne trees olde° 
 
 Of stubbes sharpe and hidouse to biholde 
 In which ther ran a rumbel in a swough* 
 
 As though a storm sholde bresten every bough. 
 And downward from an hille* under a bente* 
 Ther stood the temple of Mars armipotente* 
 Wrought al of burned steel* of which the entree 
 Was long and streit, and gastly for to see. 
 
 And ther-out cam a rage and such a veze* 
 
 That it made al the gate for to rese. 
 
 The northren light 0 in at the dores shoon* 
 
 For windowe on the wal ne was ther noon 
 Thurgh which men mighten any light discerne. 
 The dores were alle of adamant eterne* 
 Y-clenched overthwart and endelong 
 With iren tough ; and* for to make it strong* 
 Every piler* the temple to sustene, 
 
 Was tonne-greet* of iren bright and shene. 
 
 Ther saugh I first the derke imagining 
 Of Felonye* and al the compassing ; 
 
 The cruel Ire*° reed as any glede ; • 
 
 The pikepurs * 0 and eek the pale Drede° ; 
 
 G 
 
 *975 
 
 1980 
 
 1985 
 
 *990 
 
 1995 
 
82 
 
 THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 The smiler with the knyf under the cloke ; 
 
 The shepne brenninge with the blake smoke; 2000 
 The tresoun of the mordringe in the bedde ; 
 
 The Open Werre with woundes al bi-bledde ; 
 
 Contek with blody knyf and sharp manace ; 
 
 Al ful of chirking was that sory place. 
 
 The sleere of himself yet saugh I ther,° 2005 
 
 His herte-blood hath bathed al his lieer ; 
 
 The nayl y-driven in the shode a-night, 
 
 The colde deeth with mouth gaping upright. 
 
 Amiddes of the temple sat Meschaunce, 
 
 With disconfort and sory contenaunce. 2010 
 
 Yet saugh I Woodnesse laughinge in his rage ; 
 Armed Compleynt, Outhees, and hers Outrage ; 
 
 The careyne in the busk with throte y-corve : 
 
 A thousand slayn and nat of qualm y-storve ; 
 
 The tiraunt with the prey by force y-raft; 2015 
 
 The toun destroyed, ther was nothing laft. 
 
 Yet saugh I brent the shippes hoppesteres 0 ; 
 
 The hunte strangled with the wilde beres ; 
 
 The sowe freten the child right in the cradel ; 
 
 The cook y-scalded for al his longe ladel. 2020 
 
 Nought was foryeten by the infortune of Marte°; 
 
 The carter over-riden with his carte, 
 
 Under the wheel ful lowe he lay adoun. 
 
THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 Ther were also of Martes divisioun 
 The harbour and the bocher and the smith 
 That forgeth sharpe swerdes on his stith. 
 And al above, depeynted in a tour, 
 
 Saw I Conquest sittinge in greet honour, 
 With the sharpe swerde over his heed° 
 Hanging by a sotil twines threed. 
 
 Depeynted was the slaughtre of Julius, 
 Of grete Nero, and of Antonius ; 
 
 Al be that thilke time they were unborn 
 Yet was hir deeth depeynted ther-biforn, 
 By manasinge of Mars,° right by figure ; 
 
 So was it shewed in that portreiture 
 As is depeynted in the sterres above 
 Who shal be slayn or elles deed for love. 
 Suffiseth oon ensample 0 in stories olde, 
 
 I may not rekene hem alle though I wolde. 
 
 The statue of Mars upon a carte stood, 
 Armed, and loked grim as he were wood ; 
 And overe his heed ther shinen two figures 
 Of sterres, that been cleped in scriptures, 
 That oon Puella , 0 that other Bubeus . 0 
 This god of armes was arrayed thus : 
 
 A wolf ther stood biforn him at his feet 
 With eyen rede, and of a man he eet ; 
 
84 
 
 THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 With sotil pencel clepeynted was this storie, 
 
 In redou tinge of Mars and of his glorie. 2050 
 
 Now to the temple of Diane the chaste 
 As shortly as I can I wol me haste, 
 
 To telle yow al the descripcioun. 
 
 Depeynted been the walles up and doun 
 
 Of hunting and of shamfast chastitee. 2055 
 
 Ther saugh I how woful Calistopee, 
 
 Whan that Diane agreved was with here, 
 
 Was turned from a womman to a here, 
 
 And after was she maad the lode-sterre° ; 
 
 Thus was it peynted, I can say yow no ferre. 2060 
 Hir sone is eek a sterre, as men may se. 
 
 Ther saugh I Dane, y-turned til a tree, — 
 
 I mene nat the goddesse Diane, 
 
 But Penneus doughter which that highte Dane. 
 
 Ther saugh I Attheon an hert y-maked, 2065 
 
 For vengeaunce that he saugh Diane al naked; 
 
 I saugh how that his houndes have him caught 
 And freten him, for that they knewe him naught. 
 
 Yet peynted was a litel forther-moor, 
 
 How Atthalante h tinted the wilde boor, 2070 
 
 And Meleagre, and many another mo, 
 
 For which Diane wroughte him care and wo. 
 
THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 85 
 
 Ther saugh I many another wonder storie^ 
 
 The whiche me list nat drawen to memorie. 
 
 This goddesse on an hert ful hye seet, 
 
 With smale houndes al aboute hir feet ; 
 
 And undernethe hir feet she hadde a mone > 
 Wexing it was, and sholde wanie sone. 
 
 In gaude grene hir statue clothed was, 
 
 With bowe in honde and arwes in a cas. 
 
 Hir eyen caste she ful lowe adoun, 
 
 Ther Pluto hath his derke regioun. 
 
 Wei couthe he peynten lyfly that it wroughte, 
 With many a florin he the hewes boughte. 
 
 Now been thise listes maad, and Theseus, 
 
 That at his grete cost arrayed thus 
 The temples and the theatre every del, 
 
 Whan it was doon, him liked wonder wel. 
 
 But stinte I wol of Theseus a lite, 
 
 And speke of Palamon and of Arcite. 
 
 The day approcheth of hir retourninge, 
 
 That everich sholde an hundred knightes bringe, 
 The bataille to darreyne, as I yow tolde ; 
 
 And til Atthenes, hir covenant for to holde, 
 
 2075 
 
 2080 
 
 2090 
 
 2095 
 
86 
 
 THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 Hath everich of hem brought an hundred knightes 
 Wei armed for the werre at alle rightes. 2100 
 
 And sikerly ther trowed many a man 
 That never, sithen that the world bigan, 
 
 As for to speke of knighthod, of hir hond,° 
 
 As fer as God hath maked see or lond, 
 
 Nas, of so fewe, so noble a compaignye. 2105 
 
 For every wight that loved chivalrye, 
 
 And wolde, his thankes, han a passant name, 
 
 Hath preyed that he mighte ben of that game; 
 
 And wel was him, that therto chosen was. 
 
 For if ther fille tomorwe swich a cas, 2110 
 
 Ye knowen wel that every lusty knight 
 That loveth paramours and hath his might, 
 
 Were it in Engelond or elles where, 
 
 They wolde, hir tliankes, wilnen to be there. 
 
 To fighte for a lady, — ben'dic'te ! 2115 
 
 It were a lusty sighte for to see ! 
 
 And right so ferden they with Palamon ; 
 
 With him ther wenten knightes many oon. 
 
 Som wol ben armed in an habergeoun, 
 
 And in a brest-plate and in a light gipoun ; 212 0 
 
 And somine woln have a peyre plates large; 
 
 And somme woln have a Pruce sheld or a targe ; 
 Somme woln been armed on hir legges weel, 
 
THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 87 
 
 And have an ax and somme a mace of steel. 
 Ther nis no newe gise that it nas old.° 
 
 Armed were they, as I have you told, 
 
 Everich after his opinioun. 
 
 Ther maistow seen cominge with Palamoun 
 Lygurge himself, the grete king of Trace. 
 
 Blak was his herd, and manly was his face ; 
 
 The cercles of his eyen in his heed, 
 
 They gloweden bitwixe yelow and reed ; 
 
 And lyk a griffon looked he aboute, 
 
 With kempe heres on his browes stoute ; 
 
 His limes grete, his brawnes harde and stronge, 
 His shuldres brode, his armes rounde and longe. 
 And as the gise was in his contree, 
 
 Ful hye upon a char of gold stood he, 
 
 With foure white boles in the trays. 
 
 Instede of cote-armure over his harnays, 
 
 With nayles 0 yelwe, and brighte as any gold 
 He hadde a beres skin, col-blak, for-old. 
 
 His longe heer was kembd bihinde his bak, 
 
 As any ravenes fether it shoon for-blak ; 
 
 A wrethe of gold arm-greet, of huge wighte, 
 Upon his heed, set ful of stones brighte, 
 
 Of fine rubies and of diamaunts. 
 
 Aboute his char ther wenten white alaunts, 
 
 2125 
 
 2130 
 
 2135 
 
 2140 
 
 2145 
 
88 
 
 THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 Twenty and mo, as grete as any steer, 
 
 To hnnten at the leoun or the deer, 
 
 And folwed him with mosel faste y-bounde, 
 Colered of golde, and torets filed rounde. 
 
 An hundred lordes hadde he in his route 
 Armed ful wel, with hertes sterne and stoute. 
 
 With Arcita, in stories as men finde, 
 
 The grete Emetreus, the king of Inde, 
 
 Upon a stede bay trapped in steel, 
 
 Covered in cloth of gold diapred wel, 
 
 Cam riding lyk the god of armes, Mars. 
 
 His cote-armure was of cloth of Tars,° 
 
 Couched with perles white and rounde and grete ; 
 His sadel was of brend gold newe y-bete ; 
 
 A mantelet upon his shuldre hanginge 
 Bret-ful of rubies rede, as fyr sparklinge. 
 
 His crispe heer lyk ringes was y-ronne, 
 
 And that was yelow and glitered as the sonne, 
 His nose was heigh, his eyen bright citryn, 
 
 His lippes rounde, his colour was sangwyn ; 
 
 A fewe fraknes in his face y-spreynd, 
 
 Betwixen yelow and somdel blak y-meynd ; 
 
 And as a leoun he his loking caste. 
 
 Of five and twenty yeer his age I caste. 
 
 His berd was wel bigonne for to springe ; 
 
 2150 
 
 2155 
 
 2160 
 
 2165 
 
 2170 
 
THE KNIGHT’S TALE 
 
 89 
 
 His voys was as a trompe thunderinge. 
 
 Upon his heed he wered of laurer grene 
 A gerlond fresh and lusty for to sene. 
 
 Upon his hand he bar for his deduyt 
 An egle tame, as eny lilie whyt. 
 
 An hundred lordes hadde he with him there, 
 A1 armed sauf hir heddes in al hir gere, 
 
 Ful richely in alle maner thinges. 
 
 For trusteth wel that dukes, erles, kinges, 
 Were gadered in this noble compaignye, 
 
 For love, and for encrees of chivalrye. 
 
 Aboute this king ther ran on every part 
 Ful many a tan^e leoun and leoparf. 
 
 And in this wise thise lordes alle and some 0 
 Been on the Sonday to the citee come 
 Aboute prime and in the toun alight. 
 
 This Theseus, this duk, this worthy knight, 
 Whan he had brought hem into his citee, 
 
 And inned hem, everich at his degree, 
 
 He festeth hem, and doth so greet labour 
 To esen hem and doon hem al honour, 
 
 That yet men weneth that no mannes wit 
 Of noon estat ne coude amenden it. 
 
 The minstralcye, the service at the feeste, 
 The grete yiftes to the moste and leeste, 
 
 2175 
 
 2180 
 
 2185 
 
 219c 
 
 2195 
 
90 
 
 THE KNIGHT : S TALE 
 
 The riche array of Theseus paleys, 
 
 Ne who sat first ne last upon the deys, 
 
 What ladies fairest been or best daun singe, 
 
 Or which of hem can dauncen best and singe, 
 
 Ne who most felingly speketh of love, 
 
 What haukes sitten on the perche above, 
 
 What houndes liggen on the floor adoun, — 
 
 Of al this make I now no mencioun, 
 
 But al theffect, that thinketh me the beste ; 
 
 Now cometh the poynt, and herkneth if yow leste. 
 
 The Sonday night, er day bigan to springe, 
 When Palamon the larke herde singe 
 (Although it nere nat day by houres two, 
 
 Yet song the larke, and Palamon also), 
 
 With holy herte and with an heigh corage 
 He roos to wenden on his pilgrimage 
 Unto the blisful Citherea benigne, — 
 
 I mene Venus, honurable and digne. 
 
 And in hir houre° he walketh forth a pas 
 Unto the listes, ther hir temple was, 
 
 And doun he kneleth and with humble chere 
 And herte soor, he seyde as ye shul here. 
 
 ‘ Faireste of faire, o lady myn Venus, 
 
 Doughter of Jove and spouse to Vulcanus, 
 
 Thou gladere of the mount of Citheroun, 
 
 2200 
 
 2205 
 
 2210 
 
 2215 
 
 2220 
 
THE KNIGHT’S TALE 
 
 91 
 
 For thilke love thou haddest to Adoun, 
 
 Have pitee of my bittre teres smerte, 
 
 And tak myn humble preyere at thyn herte. 
 Allas ! I ne have no langage to telle 
 Theffectes ne the torments of myn helle ; 
 
 Myn herte may mine harmes nat biwreye ; 
 
 I am so confus that I can nought seye. 
 
 But mercy, lady bright, that knowest wele 
 My thought and seest what harmes that I fele ; 
 Considere al this and re we upon my sore, 
 
 As wisly as I shal for evermore 
 Emforth my might thy trewe servant be, 
 
 And holden werre alway with chastitee ; 
 
 That make I myn avow, so ye me helpe. 
 
 I kepe nought of armes for to yelpe,° 
 
 Ne I ne axe nat tomorwe to have victorie, 
 
 Ne renoun in this cas, ne veyne glorie 
 Of prys of armes blowen 0 up and doun ; 
 
 But I wolde have fully possessioun 
 Of Emely e, and dye in thy servise ; 
 
 Eind thou the maner how, and in what wise. 
 
 I recche nat,° but it may bettre be, 
 
 To have victorie of hem or they of me, 
 
 So that I have my lady in mine armes. 
 
 For though so be that Mars is god of armes, 
 
 2225 
 
 2230 
 
 2235 
 
 2240 
 
 2245 
 
92 
 
 THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 Your vertu is so greet in hevene above 
 That if yow list I shal wel have my love. 
 
 Thy temple wol I worshipe evermo, 
 
 And on thyn auter, wher I ride or go, 
 
 I wol doon sacrifice and fires bete. 
 
 And if ye wol nat so, my lady swete, 
 
 Than preye I thee, tomorwe with a spere 
 That Arcita me thurgh the herte bere. 
 
 Than rekke I nought, whan I have lost my lyf, 
 Though that Arcita winne hir to his wyf. 
 
 This is the effect and ende of my preyere : 
 
 Yif me my love, thou blisful lady dere/ 
 
 Whan the orisoun was doon of Palamon, 
 
 His sacrifice he dide, and that anon, 
 
 Ful pitously with alle circumstaunces, 
 
 A1 tel]e I nought as now his observaunces. 
 
 But atte laste the statue of Venus shook 
 And made a signe, wherby that he took 
 That his preyere accepted was that day. 
 
 For though the signe shewed a delay, 
 
 Yet wiste he wel that graunted was his bone ; 
 And with glad herte he wente him hoom ful sone. 
 
 The thridde houre inequal 0 that Palamon 
 Bigan to Venus temple for to gon, 
 
 Up roos the sonne and up roos Emelye, 0 
 
 2250 
 
 2255 
 
 2260 
 
 2265 
 
 2270 
 
THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 93 
 
 And to the temple of Diane gan hye. 
 
 Hir maydens that she thider with hir ladde 
 Ful redily with hem the fyr they hadde, 
 Thencens, the clothes, and the remenant al 
 That to the sacrifice longen shal ; 
 
 The homes fulle of meth, as was the gise ; 
 
 Ther lakked nought to doon hir sacrifise. 
 
 Smokinge 0 the temple, ful of clothes faire, 
 
 This Emelye with herte debonaire 
 Hir body wesh with water of a welle ; 
 
 But how she dide hir rite I dar nat telle 
 But it be any thing in general ; 
 
 And yet it were a game 0 to heren al. 
 
 To him that meneth wel, it were no charge, 0 — 
 But it is good a man ben at his large. 0 
 
 Hir brighte heer was kempt, untressed al ; 
 
 A coroune of a grene ook cerial 
 Upon hir heed was set ful fair and mete. 
 
 Two fires on the auter gan she bete, 
 
 And dide hir thinges, as men may biholde 
 In Stace of Thebes, and thise bokes olde.° 
 
 Whan kindled was the fyr, with pitous chere 
 Unto Diane she spak as ye may here. 
 
 ‘ 0 chaste goddesse of the wodes grene, 
 
 To whom bothe hevene and erthe and see is sene, 
 
 2275 
 
 2280 
 
 2285 
 
 2290 
 
 2295 
 
94 
 
 THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 Quene of the regne of Pluto derk and lowe, 
 Goddesse of may dens, that myn herte hast knowe 
 Ful many a yeer and woost what I desire, 
 
 As keep me fro thy vengeaunce and thyn ire, 
 That Attheon aboughte cruelly. 
 
 Chaste goddesse, wel wostow that I 
 Desire to been a may den al my lyf, 
 
 Ne never wol I be no love ne wyf. 
 
 I am, thou woost, yet of thy compaignye, 
 
 A mayde, and love hunting 0 and venerye , 0 
 And for to walken in the wodes wilde, 
 
 And nought to been a wyf and be with childe. 
 Nought wol I knowe compaignye of man. 
 
 Now help me, lady, sith ye may and can, 
 
 For tho thre formes 0 that thou hast in thee. 
 
 And Palamon, that hath swich love to me, 
 
 And eek Arcite, that loveth me so sore, 
 
 (This grace I preye thee withoute more) 
 
 As sende love and pees bitwixe hem two ; 
 
 And fro me torn awey hir hertes so 
 That al hir hote love and hir desyr 
 And al hir bisy torment and hir fyr 
 Be queynt, or turned in another place. 
 
 And if so be thou wolt do me no grace, 
 
 Or if my destinee be shapen so, 
 
 2300 
 
 2305 
 
 2310 
 
 2315 
 
 2320 
 
THE KNIGHT’S TALE 
 
 95 
 
 That I shal nedes have oon of hem two. 
 
 As sende me him that most desireth me. 
 Bihold, goddesse of clene chastitee, 
 
 The bittre teres that on my chekes falle. 
 
 Sin thou art mayde, and kepere of us alle, 
 My maydenhode thou kepe and wel conserve, 
 And whyl I live a mayde, I wol thee serve/ 
 The fires brenne up on the auter clere, 
 Whil Emelye was thus in hir preyere ; 
 
 But sodeynly she saugh a sighte queynte, 
 Eor right anon oon of the fires queynte, 
 
 And quiked agayn, and after that anon 
 That other fyr was queynt and al agon. 
 
 And as it queynte, it made a whistelinge, 
 
 As doon tliise wete brondes in hir brenninge, 
 And at the brondes ende out-ran anoon 
 As it were blody dropes many oon. 
 
 For which so sore agast was Emelye, 
 
 That she was wel ny mad, and gan to crye ; 
 For she ne wiste what it signify ed ; 
 
 But only for the fere thus hath she cryed 
 And weep that it was pitee for to here. 
 
 And ther-with-al Diane gan appere, 
 
 With bowe in hond, right as an hunteresse, 
 And seyde, ‘ Doughter, stint thyn hevinesse. 
 
 '325 
 
 2330 
 
 2335 
 
 2340 
 
 2345 
 
96 
 
 THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 Among the goddes hye it is affermed, 
 
 And by eterne word writen and confermed, 
 Thou shalt ben wedded unto oon of tho 
 That han for thee so muchel care and wo ; 
 But unto which of hem I may nat telle. 
 Farwel, for I ne may no lenger dwelle, 
 
 The fires which that on myn auter brenne 
 Shul thee declaren, er that thou go henne, 
 Thyn aventure of love as in this cas. ? 
 
 And with that word the arwes in the cas 
 Of the goddesse clateren faste and ringe, 
 
 And forth she wente and made a vanishinge ; 
 For which this Emelye astoned was, 
 
 And seyde, ‘ What amounteth this, alias ! 
 
 I putte me in thy proteccioun, 
 
 Diane, and in thy disposicioun.’ 
 
 And hoom she goth anon the nexte weye. 
 This is theffect, ther nis namore to seye. 
 
 The nexte houre° of Mars folwinge this, 
 Arcite unto the temple walked is 
 Of fierse Mars, to doon his sacrifise 
 With alle the rites of his payen wise. 
 
 With pitous herte and heigh devocioun 
 Right thus to Mars he seyde his orisoun : 
 
 1 0 stronge god, that in the regnes colde 
 Of Trace honoured art and lord y-holde, 
 
 2350 
 
 2355 
 
 2360 
 
 2365 
 
 2370 
 
THE KNIGHT’S TALE 
 
 97 
 
 And hast in every regne and every lond 
 Of armes al the bridel in thyn hond, 
 
 And hem fortunest as thee list devise, 
 
 Accept of me my pitous sacrifise. 
 
 If so be that my youthe may deserve, 
 
 And that my might be worthy for to serve 
 Thy godhede, that I may ben oon of thine, 
 Than preye I thee to rewe upon my pine 
 For thilke peyne, and thilke hote fyr 
 In which thou whilom brendest for desyr, 
 ******* 
 
 For thilke sorwe that was in thyn herte, 
 
 Have routhe as wel upon my peynes smerte. 
 
 I am yong and unkonning, as thou wost, 
 
 And, as I trowe, with love offended most, 
 
 That evere was any lives creature ; 
 
 For she that doth 0 me al this wo endure 
 FTe reccheth never wher I sinke or flete. 
 
 And wel I woot, er she me mercy hete, 
 
 I moot with strengthe winne hir in the place 0 \ 
 And wel I woot, withouten help or grace 
 Of thee, ne may my strengthe nought availle. 
 Than help me, lord, tom or we in my bataille, 
 For thilke fyr that whilom brente thee 
 As wel as thilke fyr now brenneth me ; 
 
 H 
 
 2375 
 
 2380 
 
 2395 
 
 240a 
 
98 
 
 THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 And do° that I tomorwe have victorie. 
 
 Myn be the travaille, and thyn be the glorie ! 
 Thy sovereyn temple wol I most honouren 
 Of any place, and alwey most labouren 
 In thy plesaunce and in thy craftes stronge ; 
 And in thy temple I wol my baner honge 
 And alle the armes of my compaignye ; 
 
 And everemo, unto that day I dye, 
 
 Eterne fyr I wol biforn thee finde. 
 
 And eek to this avow I wol me binde : 
 
 My berd, myn heer that hongeth long adoun, 
 That nevere yet ne felte offensioun 
 Of rasour nor of shere, I wol the yive,° 
 
 And been thy trewe servant whyl I live. 
 
 Now lord, have routhe upon my sorwes sore, 
 Yif me the victorie, I aske thee namore.’ 
 
 The preyer stint of Arcita the stronge ; 
 
 The ringes on the temple dore that honge, 
 And eek the dores, clatereden ful faste, 
 
 Of which Arcita somwhat him agaste. 
 
 The fires brende upon the auter brighte, 
 
 That it gan al the temple for to lighte ; 
 
 And swete smel the ground anon up-yaf, 
 
 And Arcita anon his hand up-haf, 
 
 And more encens into the fyr he caste, 
 
 2405 
 
 2410 
 
 2415 
 
 2420 
 
 2425 
 
THE KNIGHT’S TALE 
 
 99 
 
 With othere rites mo; and atte laste 
 The statue of Mars bigaii his hauberk ringe. 
 
 And with that soun he herde a murmuringe 
 Ful lowe and dim, that sayde thus, ‘ Victorie ! * 
 For which he yaf to Mars honour and glorie. 
 And thus with joye and hope wel to fare 
 Arcite anon unto his inne is fare, 
 
 As fayn as fowel is of the brighte sonne. 
 
 And right anon swich stryf ther is bigonne 
 For thilke graunting, in the hevene above, 
 Bitwixe Venus, the goddesse of love, 
 
 And Mars, the sterne god armipotente, 
 
 That Jupiter was bisy it to stente; 
 
 Til that the pale Saturnus the colde, 
 
 That knew so many of aventures olde, 
 
 Fond in his olde experience an art 
 That he ful sone hath plesed every part. 
 
 As sooth is sayd, elde hath greet avantage; 
 
 In elde is bothe wisdom and usage ; 
 
 ‘ Men may the olde at-renne and nought at-rede.* 
 Saturne anon, to stinten stryf and drede, 
 
 A1 be it that it is agayn his kinde,° 
 
 Of al this stryf he gan remedie finde. 
 
 ‘My dere doughter Venus/ quod Saturne, 
 
 ‘ My cours, that hath so wide for to turne,° 
 
 2430 
 
 2435 
 
 2440 
 
 2445 
 
 245Q 
 
100 
 
 THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 Hath more power than wot any man. 
 
 Myn is the drenching in the see so wan, 
 
 Myn is the prison in the derke cote, 
 
 Myn is the strangling and hanging by the throte, 
 The murmure and the cherles rebelling, 
 
 The groyning and the prive empoysoning ; 
 
 I do vengeance and pleyn correccioun, 
 
 Wliyl I dwelle in the signe of the leoun. 
 
 Myn is the mine of the hye halles, 
 
 The falling of the toures and of the walles 
 Upon the minour or the carpenter. 
 
 I slow Sampson shakinge the piler; 
 
 And mine be the maladyes colde, 
 
 The derke tresons and the castes olde ; 
 
 My looking is the fader of pestilence. 
 
 Now weep namore, I shal doon diligence 
 That Palamon, that is thyn owene knight, 
 
 Shal have his lady, as thou hast him hight. 
 Though Mars shal helpe his knight, yet natheless 
 Bitwixe yow ther moot be som time pees, 
 
 A1 be ye nought of o complexioun, 
 
 That causeth al day swich divisioun. 
 
 I am thyn aiel, redy at thy wille ; 
 
 Weep thou namore, I wol thy lust fulfilled 
 Now wol I stinten of the goddes above, 
 
 3455 
 
 2460 
 
 2465 
 
 2470 
 
 2475 
 
THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 101 
 
 Of Mars, and of Venus, goddesse of love, 2480 
 
 And telle yow as pleynly as I can 
 The grete effect for which that I bigan. 
 
 Explicit ter da pars. Sequitur pars quarta • 
 
 Greet was the feste in Atthenes that day, 
 
 And eek the lusty sesoun of that May 
 
 Made every wight to been in swich plesaunce, 2485 
 
 That al that Monday justen they and daunee, 
 
 And spenden it in Venus heigh servise. 
 
 But by the cause that they sholde rise 
 Erly, for to seen the grete fight, 
 
 Unto hir reste wenten they at night. 2490 
 
 And on the raorwe, whan that day gan springe, 
 
 Of hors and harneys noyse and clateringe 
 Ther was in hostelryes al aboute ; 
 
 And to the paleys rood ther many a route 
 Of lordes, upon stedes and palfreys. 2495 
 
 Ther maystow seen devising of herneys 
 So uncouth and so riche, and wrought so weel 
 Of goldsmithrye, of browding, and of steel ; 
 
 The sheeldes brighte, testeres, and trappures ; 
 Gold-hewen helmes, hauberkes, cote-ar mures ; 250a 
 
 Lordes in paraments on hir courseres, 
 
 Knightes of retenue, and eek squyeres 
 
102 
 
 THE KNIGHT’S TALE 
 
 Nailing the speres, and helmes bokelinge, 
 
 Gigginge of sheeldes, with layneres lacinge ; 
 
 Ther as need is, they weren nothing idel ; 2503 
 
 The fomy stedes on the golden bridel 
 Gnawinge, and faste the armurers also 
 With file and hamer priking to and fro; 
 
 Yemen on fote, and communes many oon 
 
 With shorte staves, thikke as they may goon; 2510 
 
 Pipes, trompes, nakers, clariounes, 
 
 That in the bataille blowen blody sounes ; 
 
 The paleys ful of peples up and doun, 
 
 Heer thre, ther ten, holding hir questioun, 
 
 Divininge of thise Theban knightes two. 2515 
 
 Somme seyden thus, somme seyde it shal be so; 
 Somme helden with him with the blake berd, 
 
 Somme with the balled, somme with the thikke-herd ; 
 Somme sayde, he° looked grim, and he° wolde fighte, 
 He° hath a sparth of twenty pound of wighte. 2520 
 Thus was the halle ful of divininge, 
 
 Longe after that the sonne gan to springe. 
 
 The grete Theseus, that of his sleep awaked 
 With minstralcye and noyse that was maked, 
 
 Held yet the chambre of his paleys riche, 2525 
 
 Til that the Theban knightes, both y-liche 
 Honoured, were into the paleys fet. 
 
THE KNIGHT’S TALE 
 
 103 
 
 Duk Theseus was at a window set, 
 
 Arrayed right as he were a god in trone. 
 
 The peple presseth thider-ward ful sone 
 Him for to seen, and doon heigh reverence, 
 
 And eek to herkne his heste and his sentence. 
 
 An heraud on a scaffold made an ‘ Ho ! 9 
 Til al the noyse of the peple was y-do ; 
 
 And whan he saugh the peple of noyse al stille, 
 Tho shewed he the mighty dukes wille. 
 
 ‘ The lord hath of his heigh discrecioun 
 Considered that it were destruccioun 
 To gentil blood to fight en in the gise 
 Of mortal bataille now in this emprise ; 
 
 Wherfor, to shapen that they shul not dye, 
 
 He wol his firste purpos modifye. 
 
 ‘No man therfor, up peyne of los of lyf, 
 
 No maner shot, ne pollax, ne short knyf 
 Into the listes sende, or thider bringe ; 
 
 Ne short swerd for to stoke with poynt bitinge, 
 No man ne drawe, ne bere by his side. 
 
 Ne no man shal unto his felawe ride 
 But o cours with a sharp y-grounde spere ; 
 
 Foyne, if him list, on fote, himself to were. 
 
 And he that is at meschief shal be take, 
 
 And nought slayn, but be brought unto the stake 
 
 * 53 ° 
 
 2535 
 
 2540 
 
 «545 
 
 255a 
 
104 
 
 THE KNIGHT’S TALE 
 
 That shal ben ordeyned on either side ; 
 
 But thider he shal by force, and ther abide. 
 
 ‘■And if so falle, the chevetayn be take 2555 
 
 On either side, or elles sleen his make, 
 
 No lenger shal the turneyinge laste. 
 
 God spede yow ; goth forth, and ley on faste. 
 
 With long swerd and with maces fighteth your fille. 
 Goth now your wey ; this is the lordes willed 2560 
 The voys of peple touchede the hevene, 
 
 So loude criden they with mery stevene : 
 
 ‘ God save swich a lord, that is so good, 
 
 He wilneth no destruccioun of blood ! ? 
 
 Up goon the trompes and the melodye, 2565 
 
 And to the listes rit the compaignye 
 By ordinaunce thurgliout the citee large, 
 
 Hanged with cloth of gold, and nat with sarge. 
 
 Ful lyk a lord this noble duk gan ride, 
 
 Thise two Thebanes upon either side ; 2570 
 
 And after rood the quene and Emelye, 
 
 And after that another compaignye 
 Of oon and other, after hir degree; 
 
 And thus they passen thurghout the citee, 
 
 And to the listes come they by time. 
 
 It nas not of the day yet fully prime, 
 
 Whan set was Theseus ful riche and hye. 
 
 2575 
 
THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 105 
 
 Ipolita the quene and Emelye, 
 
 And othere ladies in degrees aboute. 
 
 Unto the setes presseth al the route ; 
 
 And westward, thurgh the gates under Marte, 
 Arcite, and eek the hundred of his parte, 
 
 With baner reed is entred right anon ; 
 
 And in that selve moment Palamon 
 Is under Venus, estward in the place, 
 
 With baner whyt, and hardy chere and face. 
 
 In al the world, to seken up and doun, 
 
 So evene withouten variacioun, 
 
 Ther nere swiche compaignyes tweye. 
 
 Eor ther nas noon so wys that coude seye, 
 
 That any hadde of other avauntage 
 Of worthinesse, ne of estaat, ne age, 
 
 So even were they chosen, for to gesse ; 
 
 And in two renges faire they hem dresse. 
 
 Whan that hir names rad were everichoon, 
 That in hir nombre gile were ther noon, 
 
 Tho were the gates shet, and cryed was loude : 
 
 ‘ Do now your devoir, yonge knightes proude ! 9 
 
 The heraudes lefte hir priking up and doun ; 
 Now ringen trompes loude and clarioun; 
 
 Ther is namore to seyn, but west and est 
 In goon the speres ful sadly in arest ; 
 
 2580 
 
 2585 
 
 2590 
 
 2595 
 
 260c 
 
106 
 
 THE KNIGHT’S TALE 
 
 In goth the sharpe spore into the side. 
 
 Ther seen men who can juste and who can ride ; 
 
 Ther shiveren shaftes upon sheeldes thikke ; 2605 
 
 He feleth thurgh the lierte-spoon the prikke. 
 
 Up springen speres twenty foot on highte; 
 
 Out goon the swerdes as the silver brighte; 
 
 The helmes they to-hewen and to-shrede, 
 
 Out brest the blood with sterne stremes rede ; 2610 
 
 With mighty maces the bones they to-breste. 
 
 He thurgh the thikkeste of the throng gan threste ; 
 Ther stomblen stedes stronge and doun goth al ; 
 
 He° rolleth under foot as doth a bal ; 
 
 He° foyneth on his feet with his tronchoun; 2615 
 
 And he° him hurtleth with his hors adoun. 
 
 He thurgh the body is hurt, and sithen y-take, 
 Maugree his heed, and brought unto the stake ; 
 
 As forward was, right ther he moste abide 5 
 Another lad is on that other side. 2620 
 
 And som time doth hem 0 Theseus to reste, 
 
 Hem° to refreshe, and drinken if hem leste. 
 
 Ful ofte a-day han thise Thebanes two 
 Togidre y-met, and wrought his felawe wo° ; 
 
 Unhorsed hath ech other of hem tweye. 2625 
 
 Ther nas no tigre in the vale of Galgopheye, 
 
 Whan that hir whelp is stole whan it is lite, 
 
THE KNIGHT'S TALE 107 
 
 So cruel on the hunte 0 as is Arcite 
 For jalous herte upon this Palamoun; 
 
 Ne in Belmarie there nis so fel leoun,° 2630 
 
 That hunted is or for his hunger wood, 
 
 Ne of his prey desireth so the blood, 
 
 As Palamon to sleen his foo Arcite. 
 
 The jalous strokes on hir helmes bite; 
 
 Out renneth blood on both hir sides rede. 2635 
 
 Som time an ende ther is of every dede ; 
 
 For er the sonne unto the reste wente, 
 
 The stronge king Emetreus gan hente 
 This Palamon, as he faught with Arcite, 
 
 And made his swerd depe in his flesh to bite ; 2640 
 
 And by the force of twenty is he take 0 
 Unyolden, and y-drawe unto the stake. 
 
 And in the rescous of this Palamoun 
 The stronge king Ligurge is born adoun ; 
 
 And king Emetreus, for al his strengthe, 2645 
 
 Is born out of his sadel a swerdes lengthe, 
 
 So hitte him Palamon er he were take 0 ; 
 
 But al for nought, he was brought to the stake. 
 
 His hardy herte mighte him helpe naught ; 
 
 He moste abide, whan that he was caught, 265a 
 
 By force and eek by composicioun . 0 
 
 Who sorweth now but woful Palamoun, 
 
108 
 
 THE KNIGHT’S TALE 
 
 That moot namore goon agayn to fighte ? 
 
 And whan that Theseus liadde seyn this sighte, 
 
 Unto the folk that foughten thus echon 2655 
 
 He cride, ‘ Ho ! namore, for it is don ! 
 
 I wol be trewe juge and no party e : 
 
 Arcite of Thebes shal have Emelye, 
 
 That by his fortune hath hir faire y-wonne. ? 
 
 Anon ther is a noyse of peple bigonne 2660 
 
 For joye of this, so loude and heighe witlialle, 
 
 It semed that the listes sholde falle. 
 
 What can now faire Venus doon above ? 
 
 What seith she now ? what doth this quene of love 
 But wepeth so, for wanting of hir wille, 2665 
 
 Til that hir teres in the listes fille ? 
 
 She seyde, ‘ I am ashamed doutelees.’ 
 
 Saturnus seyde, ‘ Doughter, hold thy pees. 
 
 Mars hath his wille, his knight hath al his bone, 
 
 And, by myn heed, thou shalt ben esed sone.* 2670 
 The trompes with the loude minstralcye, 
 
 The heraudes that ful loude yolle and crye, 
 
 Been in hir wele° for joye of daun Arcite. 
 
 But herkneth me, and stinteth now a lite, 
 
 Which a miracle ther bifel anon. 2675 
 
 This fierse Arcite hath of his helm y-don,° 
 
 And on a courser for to shewe his face 
 
THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 109 
 
 He priketh endelong the large place , 0 
 Loking upward upon this Emelye ; 
 
 And she agayn him caste a frendlich ye 
 (For worn men, as to spekeii in comune, 
 They folwen al the favour of fortune), 
 
 And was al his chere, as in his herte.° 
 
 Out of the ground a furie infernal sterte, 
 From Pluto sent at requeste of Saturne, 
 For which his hors for fere gan to turne, 
 And leep aside and foundred as he leep ; 
 And er that Arcite may taken keep, 
 
 He pighte him on the pom el of his heed, 
 That in the place he lay as he were deed, 
 His brest to-brosten with his sadel-bowe. 
 As blak he lay as any cole or crowe, 
 
 So was the blood y-ronnen in his face. 
 
 Anon he was y-born out of the place 
 With herte soor to Theseus paleys. 
 
 Tho was he corven® out of his harneys, 
 And in a bed y-brought ful faire and blive ; 
 For he was yet in memorie 0 and alive, 
 
 And alway crying after Emelye. 
 
 Duk Theseus with al his compaignye 
 Is comen hoom to Atthenes his citee, 
 
 With alle blisse and greet solempnitee. 
 
 2680 
 
 2685 
 
 2690 
 
 2695 
 
 2700 
 
110 
 
 THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 A1 be it that this aventure was falle, 
 
 He nolde nought disconforten hem alle. 
 
 Men seyde eek that Arcite shal nat dye, 
 
 He shal ben heled of his maladye. 
 
 And of another thing they were as fayn, 
 That of hem alle was ther noon y-slayn, 
 
 A1 were they sore y-hurt, and namely oon, 
 That with a spere was thirled his brest-boon.° 
 To othere 0 woundes and to broken armes, 
 
 Some hadden salves and some hadden charmes 
 Fermacies of herbes, and eek save 0 
 They dronken, for they wolde hir limes have. 
 For which this noble duk, as he wel can, 
 Conforteth and honoureth every man, 
 
 And made revel al the longe night, 
 
 Unto the straunge lordes, as was right. 
 
 He ther was holden no disconfi tinge, 0 
 But as a justes or a tourneyinge ; 
 
 For soothly ther was no disconfiture ; 
 
 For falling nis nat but an aventure ; 
 
 He to be lad by force unto the stake 
 Uny olden, and with twenty knightes take, 
 
 0 persone allone withouten mo, 
 
 And haried forth by arme, foot, and too, 
 
 And eek his stede driven forth with staves, 
 
THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 111 
 
 With foot-men, bothe yemen and eek knaves, — 
 
 It nas aretted him no vileinye, 
 
 Ther may no man clepen it cowardye. 273c 
 
 For which anon duk Theseus leet crye,° 
 
 To stinten alle rancour and envye, 
 
 The gree as wel of o side as of other, 
 
 And either side y-lyk as otheres brother; 
 
 And yaf hem yiftes after hir degree, 2735 
 
 And fully heeld a feste dayes three ; 
 
 And conveyed the kinges worthily 
 Out of his toun a journee largely. 
 
 And hoom wente every man the righte way ; 
 
 Ther was namore but ‘ Farewel ! ? ' Have good day ! ? 2740 
 Of this bataille I wol namore endite, 
 
 But speke of Palamoun and of Arcite. 
 
 Swelleth the brest of Arcite, and the sore 
 Encreseth at his herte more and more. 
 
 The clothered blood, for any lechecraft, 
 
 Corrupteth, and is in his bouk y-laft, 
 
 That neither veyne-blood ne ventusinge 
 Ne drinke of herbes may ben his helpinge. 
 
 The vertu expulsyf, 0 or animal, 
 
 Fro thilke vertu cleped natural, 
 
 He may the venim voyden ne expelle. 
 
 The pipes of his longes gonne to swelle, 
 
 2745 
 
 3750 
 
112 
 
 THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 And every lacerte in his brest adoun 
 Is shent with venini and corrupcioun. 
 
 Him gayneth neither, for to gete his lyf, 2755 
 
 Vomyt upward ne dounward laxatyf; 
 
 A 1 is to-brosten thilke regioun, 
 
 Nature hath now no dominacioun. 
 
 And certeynly, ther nature wol nat wirche, 
 
 Farewel, phisyk ! go ber the man to chirche ! 0 2760 
 
 This al and som,° that Arcita moot dye ; 
 
 For which 0 he sendeth after Emelye, 
 
 And Palamon, that was his cosin dere ; 
 
 Than seyde he thus as ye shut after here. 0 
 
 ‘ Naught may the woful spirit in myn herte 2765 
 Declare o poynt. of alle my sorwes smerte 
 To yow, my lady, that I love most ; 
 
 But I biquethe the service of my gost 
 To yow aboven every creature, 
 
 Sin that my lyf may no lenger dure. 2770 
 
 Allas, the wo ! alias, the peynes stronge 
 That I for yow have suffred, and so longe! 
 
 Allas, the deeth ! alias, myn Emelye ! 
 
 Allas, departing 0 of our compaignye ! 
 
 Allas myn hertes quene ! alias, my wyf ! 2775 
 
 Myn hertes lady, endere of my lyf ! 
 
 What is this world ? what asketh men to have ? 
 
THE KNIGHT’S TALE 
 
 113 
 
 Now with his love, now in his colde grave 
 
 Allone, withouten any compaignye . 0 
 
 Farewel, my swete fo ! myn Emelye ! 2780 
 
 And softe tak me in your armes tweye, 
 
 For love of God, and herkneth what I seye. 
 
 ‘ I have heer with my cosin Palamon 
 Had stryf and rancour many a day a-gon, 
 
 For love of yow and for my jalousye ; 2785 
 
 And Jupiter so wis my soule gye 
 (To speken of a servant proprely, 
 
 With alle circumstaunces trewely ; 
 
 That is to seyne, trouthe, honour, knighthede, 
 
 Wisdom, humblesse, estaat, and heigh kinrede, 2790 
 Fredom, and al that longeth to that art°), 
 
 So Jupiter have of my soule part , 0 
 
 As in this world, right now ne knowe I non 
 
 So worthy to be loved as Palamon, 
 
 That serveth yow and wol doon al his lyf. 2795 
 
 And if that evere ye shul been a wyf,° 
 
 Foryet nat Palamon, the gentil man . 5 
 And with that word his speche faille gan ; 
 
 For fro his feet up to his brest was come 
 
 The cold of deetli that hadde him overcome, 2800 
 
 And yet moreover, for in his armes two 
 
 The vital strengthe is lost and al ago. 
 
114 
 
 THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 Only the intellect withouten more, 
 
 That dwelled in his herte sik and sore, 
 
 Gan faillen when the herte felte deeth. 2805 
 
 Dusked his eyen two and failled breeth, 
 
 But on his lady yet caste he his ye ; 
 
 His laste word was, ‘ Mercy, Emelye ! ? 
 
 His spirit chaunged hous and wente ther° 
 
 As I cam never ; I can nat tellen wher. 2810 
 
 Therfor I stinte, I nam no divinistre ; 
 
 Of soules finde I nat in this registre, 
 
 Ne me ne list thilke opiniouns to telle 
 Of hem, though that they writen wher they dwelle. 
 Arcite is cold ; ther Mars his soule gye. 2815 
 
 Now wol I speken forth of Emelye. 
 
 Shrighte Emelye, and howleth Palamon, 
 
 And Theseus his suster took anon 
 Swowninge, and bar hir fro the corps away. 
 
 What helpeth it to tarien forth the day, 2820 
 
 To tellen how she weep, both eve and morwe ? 
 
 For in swich cas wommen have swich sorwe, 
 
 Whan that hir housbondes been from hem ago, 
 
 That for the more part they sorwen so, 
 
 Or elles fallen in swich maladye 2825 
 
 That at the laste certeynly they dye. 
 
 Infinite been the sorwes and the teres 
 
THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 115 
 
 Of olde folk, and folk of tendre yeres, 
 
 In al the toun for deetli of this Theban. 
 
 For him ther wepeth bothe child and man ; 2830 
 
 So greet a weping was ther noon certayn, 
 
 Whan Ector was y -brought, al fresh y-slayn, 
 
 To Troye. Allas ! the pitee that was ther, 
 
 Cracching of chekes, rending eek of heer. 
 
 6 Why woldestow be deed/ thise wommen crye, 2835 
 ‘ And haddest gold ynough and Emelye ! ’ 
 
 No man mighte gladen Theseus, 
 
 Savinge his olde fader Egeus, 
 
 That knew this worldes transmutacioun, 
 
 As he hadde seyn it up and doun, 2840 
 
 Joye after wo, and wo after gladnesse; 
 
 And shewed hem ensamples and lyknesse. 
 
 ‘ Eight as ther deyed nevere man/ quod he, 
 
 < That he ne lived in erthe in som degree, 
 
 Eight so ther lived nevere man/ he seyde, 2845 
 
 ‘ In al this world, that som time he ne deyde. 
 
 This world nis but a thurghfare ful of wo, 
 
 And we ben pilgrimes passing to and fro ; 
 
 Deeth is an ende of every worldly sore. 5 
 
 And over al this yet seyde he muchel more 2850 
 
 To this effect, ful wysly to enhorte 
 
 The peple that they sholde hem reconforte. 
 
116 
 
 THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 Duk Theseus with al his bisy cure 
 Cast now wher that the sepulture 
 Of good Arcite may best y-maked be, 
 
 And eek most honurable in his degree. 
 
 And at the laste he took conclusioun 
 That ther as first Arcite and Palamoun 
 Hadden for love the bataille hem bitwene, 
 That in that selve grove, swote and grene, 
 Ther as he hadde his amorouse desires, 
 
 His compleynte, and for love his hote fires, 
 He wolde make a fyr in which the office 
 Funeral he mighte all accomplice ; 
 
 And leet comaunde anon to hakke and hewe 
 The okes olde, and leye hem on a rewe 
 In colpons wel arrayed for to brenne. 
 
 His officers with swifte feet they renne, 
 
 And ride anon at his comaundement. 
 
 And after this, Theseus hath y-sent 
 After a here, and it al overspradde 
 With cloth of gold, the richest that he hadde 
 And of the same suyte he cladde Arcite. 
 Upon his hondes hise gloves 0 white, 
 
 Eek on his heed a coroune of laurer grene, 
 And in his hond a swerd ful bright and kene, 
 He leyde him, bare the visage, on the bere. 
 
THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 117 
 
 Therwith he weep that pitee was to here ; 
 
 And for the peple sholde seen him alle, 
 
 Whan it was day, he broughte him to the halle, 
 That roreth of the crying and the soun. 
 
 Tho cam this woful Theban Palamoun, 
 With-flotery berd and ruggy ashy heres, 
 
 In clothes blake, y-dropped al with teres ; 
 
 And, passing 0 othere of weping, Emelye, 
 
 The rewfulleste of al the compaignye. 
 
 In as muche as the service sholde be 
 The more noble and riche in his degree , 0 
 Duk Theseus leet forth three stedes bringe, 
 
 That trapped were in steel al gliteringe, 
 
 And covered with the arines of daun Arcite. 
 
 Up on thise stedes grete and white, 
 
 Ther seten folk, of which oon bar his sheeld, 
 Another his spere up in his hondes heeld, 
 
 The thridde bar with him his bowe Turkeys, 
 
 Of brend gold was the cas, and eek the harneys ) 
 And riden forth a pas with sorweful chere 
 Toward the grove, as ye shul after here. 
 
 The nobleste of the Grekes that ther were 
 Upon hir shuldres carieden the bere, 
 
 With slake pas, and eyen rede and wete, 
 Thurghout the citee, by the maister-strete, 
 
 2880 
 
 2885 
 
 2890 
 
 2895 
 
 2900 
 
118 
 
 THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 That sprad was al with blak, and wonder hye 
 Eight of the same is the strete y-wrye. 
 
 Upon the right hond wente old Egeus, 2905 
 
 And on that other side duk Theseus, 
 
 With vessels in hir hand of gold wel fyn, 
 
 Al ful of hony, milk, and blood, and wyn ; 
 
 Eek Palamon, with ful greet compaignye ; 
 
 And after that cam woful Emelye, 2910 
 
 With fyr in honde, as was that time the gise, 
 
 To do the office of funeral servise. 
 
 Heigh labour and ful greet apparaillinge 
 Was at the service and the fyr-makinge, 
 
 That with his grene top the heven raughte, 2915 
 
 And twenty fadme of brede the armes straughte ; 
 
 This is to seyn, the bowes were so brode. 
 
 Of stree first ther was leyd ful many a lode ; 
 
 But how the fyr was maked up on highte ; 
 
 And eek the names how the trees highte, 2920 
 
 As 00k, firre, birch, asp,. alder, holm, popler, 
 
 Wilow, elm, plane, ash, box, chasteyn, lind, laurer, 
 Mapul, thorn, beech, hasel, ew, whippeltre; 
 
 How they weren feld, — shal nat be told for me ; 
 
 He how the goddes ronnen up and doun, 2925 
 
 Disherited of hir habitacioun, 
 
 In which they woneden in reste and pees, 
 
THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 119 
 
 Nymphes, Faunes, and Amadrides ; 
 
 Ne how the bestes and the briddes alle 
 
 Fledden for fere, whan the wode was falle ; 2930 
 
 Ne how the ground agast was of the light, 
 
 That was nat wont to seen the sonne bright ; 
 
 Ne how the fyr was couched first with stree, 
 
 And than with drye stokkes cloven a three, 
 
 And than with grene wode and spicerye, 2935 
 
 And than with cloth of gold and with perrye, 
 
 And gerlandes hanging with ful many a flour, 
 
 The mirre, thencens, with al so greet odour \ 
 
 Ne how Arcite lay among al this, 
 
 Ne what richesse aboute his body is ; *940 
 
 Ne how that Emelye, as was the gise, 
 
 Putte in the fyr of funeral servise ; 
 
 Ne how she swowned whan maad was the fyr, 
 
 Ne what she spak, ne what was hir desyr ; 
 
 Ne what jeweles men in the fyr caste, 2945 
 
 Whan that the fyr was greet and brente faste ; 
 
 Ne how somme caste hir sheeld, and somme hir spere, 
 And of hir vestiments whiche that they were, 
 
 And cuppes ful of wyn, and milk, and blood, 
 
 Into the fyr, that brente as it were wood ; 295a 
 
 Ne how the Grekes with an huge route 
 Thryes riden al the fyr aboute 
 
120 
 
 THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 Upon the left hand with a loud shoutinge, 
 
 And thryes with hir speres clateringe ; 
 
 And thryes how the ladies gonne crye ; 2955 
 
 He how that lad was homward Emelye ; 
 
 Ne how Arcite is brent to ashen colde; 
 
 Ne how that liche-wake was y-holde 
 A1 thilke night ; ne how the Grekes pleye 
 The wake-pl eyes ; ne kepe I nat to seye 2960 
 
 Who wrastleth best naked with oille enoynt, 
 
 Ne who that bar him best, in no disjoynt. 0 
 I wol nat tellen eek how that they goon 
 Hoorn til Atthenes whan the pley is doon. 
 
 But shortly to txie poynt than wol I wende, 2965 
 
 And maken of my longe tale an ende. 
 
 By processe and by lengthe of certeyn yeres 
 A1 stinted is the mourning and the teres. 
 
 Of Grekes by oon general assent, 
 
 Than seemed me ther was a parlement 2970 
 
 At Atthenes, upon certeyn poynts and cas ; 
 
 Among the whiche poynts y-spoken was 
 To have with certeyn contrees alliaunce, 
 
 And have fully of Thebans obeisaunce. 
 
 For which this noble Theseus anon 2975 
 
 Leet senden after gentil Palamon, 
 
 XJnwist 0 of him what was the cause and why 5 
 
THE KNIGHT’S TALE 
 
 121 
 
 But in his blake clothes sorwefully 
 He cam at his comaundement in hye. 
 
 Tho sente Theseus for Emelye. 2980 
 
 Whan they were set, and hust was al the place, 
 
 And Theseus abiden hadde a space 
 Er any word cam from his wise brest, 
 
 His eyen sette° he ther as was his lest, 
 
 And with a sad visage he siked stille, 2985 
 
 And after that right thus he seyde his wille. 
 
 ‘The Eirste Moevere of the cause above , 0 
 Whan he first made the faire cheyne of love, 
 
 Greet was theffect, and heigh was his entente. 
 
 Wei wiste he why and what therof he mente ; 2990 
 
 For with that faire cheyne of love he bond 
 The fyr, the eyr, the water, and the lond 
 In certeyn boundes that they may nat flee. 
 
 That same Prince and that Moevere/ quod he, 
 
 ‘ Hath stablissed in this wrecched world adoun 2995 
 Certeyne dayes and duracioun 
 To all that is engendred in this place, 
 
 Over the whiche day they may nat pace, 
 
 Al mo we they yet tho dayes wel abregge ; 
 
 Ther needeth non auctoritee to allegge, 3000 
 
 For it is preved by experience, 
 
 But that me list declaren my sentence . 0 
 
122 
 
 THE KNIGHT’S TALE 
 
 Tlian may men by this ordre wel discerne 
 That thilke Moevere stable is an eterne. 
 
 Wel may men knowe, but it be a fool, 
 
 That every part deriveth from his hool ; ° 
 
 For nature hath nat take his biginning 
 Of no partye ne cantel of a thing, 
 
 But of a thing that parfit is and stable, 
 Descending so til it be corrumpable. 
 
 And therfore of his wise purveyaunce, 
 
 He hath so wel biset his ordinaunce, 
 
 That speces of thinges and progressiouns 
 Shullen endure by successiouns, 
 
 And nat eterne, with-outen any lye ; ° 
 
 This maistow understonde and seen at ye. 
 
 6 Lo the ook, that hath so long a norishinge 
 Fro time that it first biginneth springe, 
 
 And had so long a lyf, as we may see, 
 
 Yet at the laste wasted is the tree. 
 
 ‘ Considereth eek, how that the harde stoon 
 Under our feet, on which we trede and goon, 
 Yit wasteth it, as it lith by the weye. 
 
 The brode river sometime wexeth dreye. 
 
 The grete tounes see we wane and wende. 
 Than may ye see that al this thing hath ende. 
 ‘ Of man and womman seen we wel also 
 
 3°°5 
 
 3010 
 
 3015 
 
 3020 
 
 3°*5 
 
THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 123 
 
 That nedeth , 0 in oon of thise termes two, 
 
 This is to seyn, in youthe or elles age, 
 
 He moot ben deed, the king as shal a page ; 
 
 Som in his bed, som in the depe see, 
 
 Som in the large feeld, as men may se. 
 
 Ther helpetli nought, al goth that ilke weye. 
 Than may I seyn that al this thing moot deye. 
 
 6 What maketh this but Jupiter the king, 
 
 The which is prince 0 and cause of alle thing, 
 Converting al unto his propre welle 
 From which it is derived, sooth to telle ? 
 
 And here-agayns no creature on live 
 Of no degree availleth for to strive. 
 
 1 Thanne is it wisdom, as it thinketh me, 
 
 To maken vertu of necessitee, 
 
 And take it wel that we may nat eschue, 
 
 And namely that to us alle is due. 
 
 And whoso gruccheth ought, he doth folye, 
 
 And rebel is to him that al may gye. 
 
 And certeynly a man hath most honour 
 To dyen in his excellence and flour, 
 
 Whan he is siker of his gode name ; 
 
 Than hath he doon his freend, ne him, no shame. 
 And gladder oughte his freend ben of his deeth, 
 Whan with honour up-yolden is his breeth, 
 
 3030 
 
 3035 
 
 3040 
 
 3045 
 
 3050 
 
124 
 
 THE KNIGHT 7 S TALE 
 
 Than whan his name appalled is for age; 
 
 For al forgeten is his vasselage. 
 
 Than is it best, as for a worthy fame, 
 
 To dyen whan that lie is best of name. 
 
 ‘The contrarie of al this is wilfulnesse. 
 
 Why grucchen we, why have we hevinesse, 
 
 That good Arcite, of chivalrye flour, 
 
 Departed is, with deutee and honour 
 Out of this foule prison of this lyf ? 
 
 Why grucchen heer his cosin and his wyf 
 Of his welfare that loved hem so wel ? 
 
 Can he hem thank 0 (nay, God woot, never a del) 
 That botlie his soule and eek hemself offende, 
 And yet they mowe hir lustes nat amende ? 
 
 ‘ What may I conclude of this longe serie, 
 
 But after wo I rede us to be merie, 
 
 And thank en Jupiter of al his grace? 
 
 And er that we departen from this place, 
 
 I rede that we make, of sorwes two, 
 
 O parfit joye, lastinge everemo. 
 
 And loketh now, wher most sorwe is her-inne, 
 Ther wol we first amenden and biginne. 
 
 ‘Suster,’ quod he, ‘this is my fulle assent, 
 With al thavys here of my parlement, 
 
 That gentil Palamon, your owene knight, 
 
 *>55 
 
 3^ 
 
 3065 
 
 30/0 
 
 30? 5 
 
THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 125 
 
 That serveth yow with wille, herte, and might, 
 
 And evere hath doon, sin that ye first him knewe, 
 That ye shul, of youre grace, upon him rewe, 3080 
 And taken him for housbonde and for lord ; 
 
 Leen me youre hond, for this is our accord. 
 
 Lat see now of your worn manly pitee. 
 
 He is a kinges brother 0 sone, pardee ; 
 
 And, though he were a povre bacheler, 3085 
 
 Sin he hath served yow so many a yeer, 
 
 And had for yow so greet adversitee, 
 
 It moste been considered, leveth me ; 
 
 For gentil mercy oughte to passen right.’ 0 
 
 Than seyde he thus to Palamon ful right: 3090 
 
 i I trowe ther nedeth litel sermoning 
 To make yow as sente to this thing. 
 
 Com neer, and tak your lady by the hond.’ 
 
 Betwixen hem was maad anon the bond, 
 
 That highte matrimoigne, or mariage, 3095 
 
 By al the counseil and the baronage. 
 
 And thus with alle blisse and melodye 
 Hath Palamon y-wedded Emelye. 
 
 And God, that al this wide world hath wrought, 
 
 Sende him his love that hath it dere a-bought. 3100 
 For now is Palamon in alle wele, 
 
 Living in blisse, in richessa and in hele ; 
 
126 
 
 THE KNIGHT’S TALE 
 
 And Emelye him loveth so tendrely, 
 
 And he hir serveth al-so gentilly, 
 
 That nevere was ther no word hem bitwene 
 Of jalousye, or any other tene. 
 
 Thus endeth Palamon and Emelye ; 
 
 And God save al this faire compaignye ! 
 
 3105 
 
THE NUN’S PRIEST’S TALE 
 
 This is the Prologe of the Nonnes Preestes Tale 
 
 ‘ Ho ! ’ quod the Knight, ‘ Good Sire, namore of this !° 
 That ye han seyd is right ynough y-wis, 
 
 And muchel more ; for litel hevinesse 
 
 Is right ynough to muche folk, I gesse. 3960 
 
 I seye for me it is a greet disese, 
 
 Where as men han been in greet welthe and ese, 
 
 To heren of hire sodeyn fal, alias ! 
 
 And the contrarie is joye and greet solas, 
 
 As whan a man hath ben in povre estaat, 
 
 And climbeth up, and wexeth fortunat, 
 
 And there abideth in prosperitee. 
 
 Swich thing is gladsom, as it thinketh me, 
 
 And of swich thing were goodly for to telle.’ 
 
 ‘ Ye/ quod our Hoost, ‘by Seint Poules belle, 
 
 Ye seye right sooth ! This Monk he clappeth lowde ; 
 He spak how° “ Fortune covered with a clowde ” — 
 
 I noot nevere what, and also of a “ Tragedie ” 
 
 Eight now ye herde. And, pardee, no remedie 
 
 127 
 
 3965 
 
 3970 
 
128 
 
 THE NUN'S PRIEST'S TALE 
 
 It is for to bewaille, ne compleyne 3975 
 
 That that is doon ; and als it is a peyne, 
 
 As ye han seyd, to here of hevinesse. 
 
 Sire Monk ! Namore of this, so God yow blesse! 
 Youre tale anoyeth al this compaignye. 
 
 Swich talking is not worth a boterflye, 3980 
 
 For ther inne is ther no desport ne game. 
 
 Wherfore, Sir Monk, Daun Piers by your name, 
 
 I pray you hertely telle us somewhat elles. 
 
 For sikerly, nere clinking of youre belles 
 
 That on youre bridel hange on every side, 3985 
 
 By hevene 0 king, that for us alle dide, 
 
 I sholde er this han fallen doun for slepe, 
 
 Although the slough had never been so depe, 
 
 Thanne hadde your tale a.l be told in veyn ; 
 
 For certeinly as that thise clerkes seyn, 3990 
 
 Where as a man may have noon audience, 
 
 Nought helpeth it to tellen his sentence. 
 
 And wel I woot the substance is in me, 
 
 If any thing shal wel reported be. 
 
 Sir, sey somwhat of hunting , 0 I yow preye.* 3995 
 
 ‘ Nay/ quod this Monk, ‘ I have no lust to pleye. 
 Now let another telle, as I have told.’ 
 
 Thanne spak oure hoost with rude speche and bold, 
 And seyde unto the Nonnes Preest anon: 
 
THE NUN'S PRIEST'S TALE 
 
 129 
 
 < Com neer, thou preest, com hider, thou “ Sir John ! 
 Telle us swich thing as may oure hertes glade. 
 
 Be blithe, though thou ride upon a jade. 
 
 What though thyn horse be bothe foul and lene ? 
 If he wol serve thee, rekke nat a bene ; 
 
 Loke that thyn herte be murie everemo.’ 
 
 ‘ Yis, sir,’ quod he, ‘yis, Hoost, so moot I go, 0 
 But I be murie, y-wis I wol be blamed.’ 
 
 And right anon his tale he hath attamed, 
 
 And thus he seyde unto us everichon, 
 
 This swete preest, this goodly man, Sir John. 
 
 4000 
 
 4005 
 
 4010 
 
THE NUN’S PRIEST’S TALE 
 
 Here biginneth the Nonnes Preestes Tale of the Cole and 
 Hen, Cliauntecleer and Pertelote 
 
 A povre widwe somdel stape in age, 
 
 Was whilom dwelling in a narwe cotage 
 Biside a grove stondinge in a dale. 
 
 This widwe, of which I telle yow my tale, 
 
 Sin thilke day that she was last a wyf, 4015 
 
 In pacience ladde a fill simple lyf ; 
 
 For litel was hir catel and hir rente. 
 
 By housbondrye of swich as God hire sente, 
 
 She fond hirself, and eek hire doughtren two. 
 
 Three large sowes hadde she, and namo, 4020 
 
 Three kyn and eek a sheep that highte Malle. 
 
 Ful soty was hir hour and eek hir halle,° 
 
 In which she eet ful many a sclendre meel; 
 
 Of poynaunt sauce hir neded never a deel. 
 
 No deyntee morseLpassed thurgh hir throte; 4025 
 Hir diete was accordant to hir cote. 
 
 Repleccioun ne made hir nevere syk ; 
 
 130 
 
THE NUN'S PRIEST'S TALE 
 
 131 
 
 Attempre diete was al hir phisyk, 
 
 And exercise, and hertes suffisaunce. 
 
 The goute lette hir nothing for to daunce, 0 
 Napoplexye shente nat hir heed ; 
 
 No wyn ne drank she, neither whyt ne reed. 
 
 Hir bord was served moost with whyt and blak, 
 Milk and broun breed, in which she fond no lak, 
 Seynd bacoun and somtime an ey or tweye ; 
 
 For she was as it were a maner deye. 
 
 A yerd she hadde, enclosed al aboute 
 With stikkes and a drye dich withoute, 
 
 In which she hadde a cok, hight Chauntecleer. 
 
 In al the land of crowing nas his peer. 
 
 His voys was murier than the murie orgcn 
 On messe-dayes that in the chirche gon ; 
 
 Wei sikerer was his crowing in his logge, 
 
 Than is a clokke, or an abbey orlogge. 
 
 By nature he knew ech ascencioun 0 
 Of equinoxial in thilke toun ; 
 
 For whan degrees fiftene weren ascended, 
 
 Thanne crew he that it mighte nat ben amended. 
 His comb was redder than the fyn coral 
 And batailled as it were a castel wal ; 
 
 His bile was blak, and as the jeet it shoon; 
 
 Lyk asure were hise legges and his toon ; 
 
 403a 
 
 4°35 
 
 404a 
 
 4045 
 
 4050 
 
132 
 
 THE NUN’S PRIEST'S TALE 
 
 His nayles whiter than the lilie flour, 
 
 And lyk the burned gold was his colour. 
 
 This gentil cok hadde in his governaunce 
 Sevene hennes for to doon al his plesaunce, 
 Whiche were hise sustres and his paramours, 
 And wonder lyk to him, as of colours ; 
 
 Of whiche the faireste hewed on hir throte 
 Was cleped faire damoysele Pertelote. 
 
 Ourteys she was, discreet and debonaire, 
 
 And compaignable, and bar hirself so faire, 
 Sin thilke day that she was seven night old, 
 That trewely she hath the herte in hold 
 Of Chauntecleer loken in every lith ; 
 
 He loved hir so, that wel was him therwith. 
 But swich a joye was it to here hem singe, 
 Whan that the brighte sonne bigan to springe, 
 In swete accord, ‘ My lief is faren in londe ; ? ° 
 Bor thilke time, as I have understonde, 
 
 Bestes and briddes coude speke and singe. 
 
 And so bifel that in a daweninge, 
 
 As Chauntecleer among hise wives alle 
 Sat on his perche that was in the halle, 
 
 And next him sat this faire Pertelote, 
 
 This Chauntecleer gan gronen in his throte, 
 
 As man that in his dreem is drecched sore. 
 
 4055 
 
 4060 
 
 4^65 
 
 407c 
 
 107 5 
 
THE HUN’S PRIEST’S TALE 
 
 133 
 
 And whan that Pertelote thus herde him rore, 
 
 She was agast, and seyde, ‘ 0 herte dere, 
 
 What eyleth yow, to grone in this manere ? 40S0 
 
 Ye been a verray sleper ; fy, for shame 0 ! ’ 
 
 And he answerde and seyde thus, ‘ Madame, 
 
 I pray yow that ye take it nat agrief ; 
 
 By God, me mette I was in swich meschief 
 
 Bight now, that yet myn herte is sore afright. 4085 
 
 Now God/ quod he, ‘my swevene recche aright, 
 
 And kepe my body out of foul prisoun ! 
 
 Me mette how that I romed up and doun 
 Withinne our yerd, wher as I saugh a beest 
 Was 0 lyk an hound, and wolde han maad areest 4090 
 Upon my body, and wolde han had me deed. 
 
 His colour was bitwixe yelow and reed ; 
 
 And tipped was his tayl and bothe his eres 
 With blak, unlyk the remenant of his heres ; 
 
 His snowte smal, with glowing eyen tweye. 4095 
 
 Yet of his look for fere almost I deye ; 
 
 This caused me my groning doutelees.* 
 
 ‘ Avoy ! ’ quod she, ‘ fy on yow, hertelees ! 
 
 Allas ! ’ quod she, ‘ for, by that God above, 
 
 Now han ye lost myn herte and al my love; 4100 
 
 I can nat love a coward, by my feith ! 
 
 For certes, what so any womman seith, 
 
134 
 
 THE NUN'S PRIEST'S TALE 
 
 We alle desiren, if it mighte be, 
 
 To han housbondes hardy, wise, and free, 
 
 And secree, and no nigard, ne no fool, 4105 
 
 Ne him that is agast of every tool, 
 
 Ne noon avauntour. By that God above ! 
 
 How dorste ye seyn for shame unto your love 
 That any thing mighte make yow aferd ? 
 
 Have ye no mannes herte, and han a herd ? 
 
 Allas ! and conne ye been agast of swevenis ? 
 
 Nothing, God wot, but vanitee, in sweven is. 
 
 Swevenes engendren of repleciouns, 
 
 And ofte of fume and of complecciouns, 
 
 Whan humours been to habundant in a wight. 
 
 Certes this dreem, which ye han met tonight, 
 
 Cometh of the grete superfluitee 
 Of youre rede colera° pardee, 
 
 Which causeth folk to dreden in hir dremes 
 Of arwes, and of fire with rede lemes, 
 
 Of grete bestes that they wol hem bite, 
 
 Of contek and of whelpes, grete and lite ; 
 
 Right as the humour of malencolye 
 Causeth ful many a man in sleep to crye, 
 
 For fere of blake beres, or boles blake,° 4125 
 
 Or elles blake develes wole him take. 
 
 Of othere humours 0 coude I telle also 
 
 4110 
 
 4115 
 
 4120 
 
THE NUN'S PRIEST'S TALE 
 
 135 
 
 That werken many a man in sleep ful wo ; 
 
 But I wol passe as lightly as I can. 
 
 Lo Catoun, 0 which that was so wys a man, 
 Seyde he nat thus, “Ne do no fors of dremes” 
 ‘ Now, sire/ quod she, ‘ whan we flee fro the 
 For Goddes love, as tak° som laxatyf ; 
 
 Up peril of my soule and of my lyf, 
 
 I counseille yow the beste, I wol nat lye, 
 
 That bothe of eolere and of malencolye 
 Ye purge yow; and for ye shal nat tarie, 
 Though in this toun is noon apothecarie, 
 
 I shal myself to herbes techen yow 
 That shul ben for your hele and for your prow 
 And in oure yerd tho herbes shal I finde 
 The whiche han of hir propretee by kinde 
 To purgen yow binetlie, and eek above. 
 
 Forget not this, for Goddes owene love ! 
 
 Ye been ful colerik of compleceioun ;° 
 
 Ware the sonne in his ascencioun 
 Ne finde yow nat repleet of humours hote. 
 
 And if it do, I dar wel leye a grote, 
 
 That ye shul have a fevere terciane, 
 
 Or an agu, that may be youre bane. 
 
 A day or two ye shul have digestives 
 Of wormes, er ye take youre laxatives 
 
 413° 
 
 ?° 
 
 bemes, 
 
 4135 
 
 ; 4140 
 
 4145 
 
 4150 
 
136 
 
 THE NUN'S PRIEST'S TALE 
 
 Of lauriol, centaure, and fumetere, 
 
 Or elles of ellebor that groweth there, 
 
 Of catapuce or of gaytres beryis, 4155 
 
 Of erbe ive growing in our yerd ther mery° is; 
 
 Pekke hem up right as they growe and ete hem in. 
 
 Be mirie, housbonde, for youre fader kin ! 
 
 Dredeth no dreem ; I can say yow namore.’ 
 
 ‘ Madame/ quod he , 6 graunt mercy 0 of youre lore. 4160 
 But natheles, as touching daun Catoun, 
 
 That hath of wisdom swich a greet renoun, 
 
 Though that he bad no dremes for to drede, 
 
 By God, men may in olde bokes rede 
 
 Of many a man, more of auctoritee 4165 
 
 Than ever Catouu was, so moot I thee, 
 
 That al the revers seyn of this sentence, 
 
 And han well founden by experience 
 That dremes ben significaciouns 
 
 As wel of joye as of tribulaciouns 4170 
 
 That folk enduren in this lyf present. 
 
 Ther nedeth make of this noon argument ;° 
 
 The verray preve sheweth it in dede. 
 
 ‘ Oon of the gretteste auctour 0 that men rede 
 Seith thus, that whilom two felawes wente 4175 
 
 On pilgrimage, in a ful good entente ; 
 
 And happed 0 so they comen in a toun, 
 
THE NUN'S PRIEST'S TALE 
 
 Wher as ther was swich congregacioun 
 Of peple, and eek so streit 0 of lierbergage, 
 That they ne founde as muche as o cotage 
 In which they bothe mighte y-logged be. 
 Wherfore they mosten of necessitee, 
 
 As for that night, departen compaignye ; 
 And ech of hem goth to his hostelry e, 
 
 And took his logging as it wolde falle.° 
 That oon of hem was logged in a stalle, 
 
 Fer in a yerd, with oxen of the plough ; 
 That other man was logged well ynough, 
 
 As was his aventure or his fortune, 
 
 That us governetli alle as in commune . 0 
 
 ‘ And so bifel that long er it were 0 day, 
 This man mette in his bed, ther as he lay, 
 How that his felawe gan upon him calle, 
 And seyde, “ Allas ! for in an oxes stalle 
 This night I shal be mordred ther I lye. 
 Now help me, dere brother, or I dye; 
 
 In alle haste com to me ! ” he sayde. 
 
 This man out of his sleep for fere abrayde; 
 But whan that he was wakened of his sleep, 
 He turned him and took of this no keep ; 
 Him thoughte his dreem nas but a vanitee. 
 Thus twyes in his sleping dremed he. 
 
138 
 
 THE NUN'S PRIEST'S TALE 
 
 And atte thridde time yet his felawe 
 Cam, as him thoughte, and seyde, “ I am now slawe ! 
 Bihold my blody woundes, depe and wide ! 4205 
 
 Arys up erly in the morwe-tide, 
 
 And at the west gate of the toun,” quod he, 
 
 “ A carte ful of donge ther shaltow see, 
 
 In which my body is hid ful prively ; 
 
 Do° thilke carte arresten boldely. 4210 
 
 My gold caused my mordre, sooth to sayn ; ” 
 
 And tolde him every poynt how he was slayn, 
 
 With a ful pitous face, pale of hewe. 
 
 And truste wel, his dreem he fond ful trewe ; 
 
 For on the morwe, as sone as it was day, 4215 
 
 To his felawes in he took the way; 
 
 And whan that he cam to this oxes stalle, 
 
 After his felawe he bigan to calle. 
 
 ‘ The hostiler answerede him anon 
 And seyde, “ Sire, your felawe is agon ; 4220 
 
 As sone as day he wente out of the toun.” 
 
 6 This man gan fallen in suspecioun, 0 
 Bemembring on his dremes that he mette, 
 
 And forth he goth, no lenger wolde he lette, 
 
 Unto the west gate of the toun, and fond 4225 
 
 A dong-carte, as it were to donge lond, 
 
 That was arrayed in that same wise 
 
THE NUN'S PRIEST'S TALE 
 
 139 
 
 As ye han herd the dede man devise. 
 
 And with an hardy herte he gan to crye 
 Yengeaunce and justice of this felonye : — 
 
 “ My felawe mordred is this same night, 
 
 And in this carte he lith gaping upright. 
 
 I crye out on the ministres,” quod he, 
 
 “ That sholden kepe and reulen this citee ; 
 
 Harrow ! alias ! here lith my felawe slayn ! " 
 What sholde I more unto this tale sayn ? 
 
 The peple out-sterte and caste the cart to grounde, 
 And in the middel of the dong they founde 
 The dede man that mordred was al newe. 
 
 ‘ 0 blisful God, that art so just and trewe ! 
 
 Lo, how that thou biwreyest mordre alway ! 
 Mordre wol out, that se we day by day. 
 
 Mordre is so wlatsom and abhominable 
 To God, that is so just and resonable, 
 
 That he ne wol nat suffre it heled be ; 
 
 Though it abide a yeer, or two, or three. 
 
 Mordre wol out, this my conclusioun. 
 
 And right anoon, ministres of that toun 
 Han hent the carter, and so sore him pined, 
 
 And eek the hostiler so sore engined, 
 
 That thay biknewe hir wikkednesse anoon, 
 
 And were anhanged by the nekke-boon. 
 
 4230 
 
 4235 
 
 4240 
 
 4245 
 
 4250 
 
140 
 
 THE NUN’S PRIEST’S TALE 
 
 ‘ Here may men seen that dreines been to drede. 
 
 And certes in the same book I rede, 
 
 Right in the nexte chapitre after this, 4255 
 
 (I gabbe nat, so have I joy or blis) 
 
 Two men that wolde han passed over see 
 For certeyn cause into a fer contree, 
 
 If that the wind ne hadde been contrarie, 
 
 That made hem in a citee for to tarie 4260 
 
 That stood ful mery upon an haven-side. 
 
 But on a day agayn the eventide 
 
 The wind gan chaunge, and blew right as hem leste. 
 
 Jolif and glad they went unto hir reste, 
 
 And casten hem ful erly for to saille. 4265 
 
 ‘ But herkneth ! to that 00 man fel a greet mervaille ! 
 That oon of hem, in sleping as he lay, 
 
 Him mette° a wonder dreem agayn the day° ; 
 
 Him thoughte a man stood by his beddes side, 
 
 And him comaunded that he sholde abide, 4270 
 
 And seyde him thus, “ If thou tom or we wende, 
 
 Thou shalt be dreynt. ; my tale is at an ende.” 
 
 He wook, and tolde his felawe what he mette, 
 
 And preyde him his viage for to lette ; 
 
 As for that day, he preyde him to bide. 4275 
 
 His felawe, that lay by his beddes side, 
 
 Gan for to laughe, and scorned him ful faste. 
 
THE NUN’S PRIEST’S TALE 
 
 141 
 
 “No dreem,” quod he, “may so inyn herte agaste, 
 That I wol lette for to do my tliinges. 
 
 I sette not a straw by thy dreminges, 
 
 For swevenes been but vanitees and japes. 
 
 Men dreme al day of owles or of apes 
 And of many a maze therwithal; 
 
 Men dreme of thing that nevere was ne shal. 
 
 But sith I see that thou wolt here abide, 
 
 And thus forslewthen wilfully thy tide, 
 
 God wot it reweth me ; and have good day ! ” 
 
 And thus he took his leve and wente his way. 
 
 But er that he hadde halfe his cours’y-seyled, 
 Noot 1 nat why ne what mischaunce it eyled, 
 
 But casuelly the sliippes botme rente, 
 
 And ship and man under the water wente 
 In sighte of othere shippes it beside, 
 
 That with hem seyled at the same tide. 0 
 
 ‘ And therfor, faire Bertel ote so dere, 
 
 By swiche ensamples olde maistow lere, 
 
 That no man sholde been to reccheiees 
 Of dremes ; for I seye thee doutelees, 
 
 That many a dreem ful sore is for to drede. 
 
 ‘Lo, in the lyf of seynt Kenelm, I rede, 
 
 That was Kenulphus sone, the noble king 
 Of Mercenrike, how Kenelm mette a thing 
 
 4280 
 
 4285 
 
 4290 
 
 4295 
 
 4300 
 
142 
 
 THE NUN'S PRIEST 1 S TALE 
 
 A lite er he was mordred, on a day 
 His mordre in his avisionn he say. 
 
 His norice him expouned every deel 
 His swevene, and bad him for to kepe him weel 
 For traisoun 0 ; but he nas but seven yeer old. 
 And therfore litel tale hath he told 
 Of any dreem, so holy was his herte. 
 
 By God, I hadde levere than my sherte 
 That ye hadde rad his legende, as have I. 
 
 Dame Pertelote, I say yow trewely, 
 
 Macrobeus, that writ the avisioun 
 In Affrike of the worthy Cipioun, 
 
 Affermeth dremes, and seith that they been 
 Warninge of thinges that men after seen. 
 
 And forthermore, I pray yow loketh wel 
 In the Olde Testament, of Daniel, 
 
 If he held dremes any vanitee. 
 
 Eeed eek of Joseph, and ther shul ye see 
 Wher dremes ben somtime, I sey nat alle, 
 Warninge of thinges that shul after falle. 
 
 Loke of Egipte the king, daun Pharao, 
 
 His bakere and his boteler also, 
 
 Wher they ne felte noon effect in dremes. 
 
 Who so wol seken actes of sondry remes, 
 
 May rede of dremes many a wonder thing. 
 
 43°5 
 
 43 10 
 
 4315 
 
 432° 
 
 43 2 5 
 
THE NUN’S PRIEST’S TALE 
 
 143 
 
 ‘ Lo Cresns, which that was of Lyde king, 
 Mette he nat that he sat upon a tree, 
 
 Which signifyed he sholde anhanged be ? 
 
 Lo here Andromacha, Ectores wyf, 
 
 That day that Ector sholde lese his lyf, 
 
 She dremed on the same night biforn, 
 
 How that the lyf of Ector sholde be lorn, 
 
 If thilke day he wente into bataille. 
 
 She warned him, but it mighte nat availle ; 
 
 He wente for to fighte natheles, 
 
 But he was slayn anoon of Achilles. 
 
 But thilke tale is al to long to telle, 
 
 And eek it is ny day, I may nat dwelle. 
 
 Shortly I seye, as for conclusioun, 
 
 That I shal han of this avisioun 
 Adversitee ; and I seye forthermore, 
 
 That I ne telle of laxatives no store, 0 
 For they ben venimes, I woot it wel ; 
 
 I hem defye, I love hem never a del. 
 
 ‘Now let us speke of mirthe, and stinte al this. 
 Madame Pertelote, so have I blis, 
 
 Of o thing God hath sent me large grace ; 
 
 For whan I see the beautee of youre face, 
 
 Ye been so scarlet-reed about youre yen, 
 
 It maketh al my drede for to dyen 5 
 
 433 ° 
 
 4335 
 
 4340 
 
 4345 
 
 4350 
 
144 
 
 THE NUN'S PRIEST'S TALE 
 
 For, also siker as In principio , 
 
 Midier est hominis confusio 0 ; 
 
 Madame, the sentence of this Latin is — 
 
 “ Womman is man lies joye and al his blis.” 
 
 * * * * * * # 
 
 I am so ful of joye and of solas 
 
 That I defye bothe swevene and dreein/ 
 
 And with that word he fley donn fro the beem, 
 Tor it was day, and eek hise hennes alle. 
 
 And with a chuk he gan hem for to calle, 
 
 For he hadde founde a corn 0 lay in the yerd. 
 Royal he was, he was naniore aferd ; 
 
 * * * * # * * 
 
 He loketh as it were a grim leoun ; 
 
 And on his toos he rometh up and doun, 
 
 Him deyned not to sette his foot to grounde. 
 
 He chukketh whan he hath a corn y-founde, 
 
 And to him rennen thanne hise wives alle. 
 
 Thus royal as a prince is in his halle, 
 
 Leve I this Chauntecleer in his pasture ; 
 
 And after wol I telle his aventure. 
 
 Whan that the month in which the world bigan, 
 That highte March, whan God first maked man,° 
 Was compleet, and passed were also 
 (Sin March bigan)° thritty dayes and two, 
 
 4355 
 
 4360 
 
 4365 
 
 437o 
 
 4375 
 
 4380 
 
TIIE NUN'S PRIEST'S TALE 
 
 145 
 
 Bifel that Chauntecleer, in al his pride, 
 
 His seven wives walkinge by his side, 
 
 Caste up his eyen to the briglite sonne, 
 
 That in the signe of Taurus hadde y-ronne 
 Twenty degrees and oon, and somewhat more, 
 And knew by kinde, and by noon other lore, 
 
 That it was prime, and crew with blisful stevene. 
 6 The sonne/ he sayde, ‘ is clomben up on hevene 
 Fourty degrees and oon, and more y-wis. 
 
 Madame Pertelote, my worldes blis, 
 
 Herkneth thise blisful briddes how they singe, 
 And se the freshe floures how they springe ; 
 
 Ful is myn hert of revel and solas ! ’ 
 
 But sodeynly him fil a sorweful cas; 
 
 For ‘ever the latter ende of joye is wo.’ 
 
 Got woot that worldly joye is sone ago; 
 
 And if a rethor 0 coude faire endite, 
 
 He in a cronicle saufly mighte it write, 
 
 As for a sovereyn notabilitee. 
 
 Now every wys man, lat him herkne me; 
 
 This storie is al so trewe,° I undertake, 
 
 As is the book of Launcelot de Lake, 
 
 That wommen holde in ful greet reverence. 
 
 Now wol I torne agayn to my sentence. 
 
 A colfox ful of sly iniquitee 
 
 L 
 
 4385 
 
 4390 
 
 4395 
 
 4400 
 
 4405 
 
146 
 
 THE NUN'S PRIEST'S TALE 
 
 That in the grove hadde woned yeres three, 
 By heigh imaginacioun.forn-cast,° 
 
 The same night thurghout the hegges brast 
 Into the yerd ther Chauntecleer the faire 
 Was wont, and eek his wives, to repaire. 
 
 And in a bed of wortes stille he lay, 
 
 Til it was passed nndern of the day, 
 
 Waitinge his time on Chauntecleer to falle; 
 As gladly doon thise homicides alle 
 That in await liggen to mordre men. 
 
 0 false mordrour lurkinge in thy den ! 
 
 0 newe Scariot, newe Genilon ! 
 
 False dissimilour, 0 Greek Sinon, 
 
 That broughtest Troye al outrely to sorwe ! 
 
 0 Chauntecleer, accursed be that morwe, 
 
 That thou into that yerd fleigh fro the bemes ! 
 Thou were ful wel y-warned by thy dremes, 
 That thilke day was perilous to thee. 
 
 But what that God forwoot moot nedes be,° 
 After the opinioun of certeyn clerkis. 
 Witnesse on him, that any parfit clerk is, 
 
 That in scole is greet altercacioun 
 In this matere, and greet disputisoun, 
 
 And hath ben of an hundred thousand men. 
 But I ne can not bulte it to the bren,° 
 
 4410 
 
 4415 
 
 4420 
 
 4425 
 
 443 ° 
 
THE NUN'S PRIEST'S TALE 
 
 147 
 
 As can the holy doctour Angustyn, 
 
 Or Boece, or the bishop Bradwardyn, 
 
 Whether that Goddes worthy forwiting 0 
 Streyneth me nedely for to doon a thing, 
 
 (Nedely clepe I simple necessitee), 
 
 Or elles if free choys be graunted me 
 To do that same thing, or do it nought, 
 
 Though God forwoot it er that it was wrought ; 
 Or if his witing streyneth never a deel 
 But by necessitee condicionel. 
 
 I wil not han to do of swich matere ; 
 
 My tale is of a cok, as ye may here, 
 
 That took his counseil of his wyf, with sorwe, 
 To walken in the yerd upon that morwe 
 That he hadde met the dreem that I you tolde. 
 
 6 Wommennes counseils been ful ofte colde ’ ; 
 Wommannes counseil broughte us first to wo, 
 And made Adam fro Paradys to go, 
 
 Ther as he was ful mirie and wel at ese. 
 
 But for I noot, to whom it might displese, 
 
 If I counseil of womraen wolde blame, 
 
 Passe over, for I seyde it in my game. 
 
 Bede auctours, wher they trete of swich matere, 
 And what thay seyn of wommen ye may here. 
 Thise been the cokke3 wordes and nat mine ; 
 
 4435 
 
 4440 
 
 4445 
 
 445 ° 
 
 4455 
 
148 
 
 THE NUN'S PRIEST'S TALE 
 
 I can noon harme of no womman divine. 
 
 Faire in the sond, to bathe hire mirily, 
 
 Lith Pertelote, and alle hir sustres by, 
 
 Agayn the sonne ; and Chauntecleer so free 
 Song murier than the mermayde in the see 
 (For Phisiologus seith sikerly, 
 
 Plow that they singen wel and merily). 
 
 And so bifel that as he caste his ye 
 Among the wortes, on a boterflye, 
 
 He was war of this fox that lay ful lowe. 
 Nothing ne liste him thanne for to crowe, 
 
 But cride anon, c Cok ! Cok ! ? and up he sterte, 
 As man that wa*j affrayed in his herte. 
 
 For naturelly a beest desireth flee 
 Fro his contrarie, if he ma}^ it see, 
 
 Though he never erst hadde seyn it with his ye. 
 
 This Chauntecleer, whan he gan him espye, 
 He wolde han fled, but that the fox anon 
 Seyde, ‘ Gentil Sire, alias ! wher wol ye gon ? 
 
 Be ye affrayed of me that am youre freend ? 
 Now, certes, I were worse than a feend, 
 
 If I to yow wolde harm or vileinye. 
 
 I am nat come your counseil for tespye ; 
 
 But trewely the cause of my cominge 
 Was only for to herkne how that ye singe. 
 
 4460 
 
 4465 
 
 4470 
 
 4475 
 
 4480 
 
THE NUN'S PRIEST'S TALE 
 
 149 
 
 For trewely ye have as mirie a stevene 
 As eny aungel hath, that is in hevene. 
 
 Therwith ye han in musik more felinge 
 Than hadde Boece, or any that can singe. 
 
 My lord youre fader (God his soule blesse !) 4485 
 
 And eek your moder, of hire gentilesse, 
 
 Han in myn hous y-been to my gret ese ;° 
 
 And certes, sire, ful fayn wolde I yow plese. 
 
 But for men speke of singing, I wol saye, 
 
 So mote I brouke wel myn eyen tweye, 4490 
 
 Save yow, I herde nevere man so singe, 
 
 As dide your fader in the morweninge. 
 
 Certes, it was of herte,° al that he song ; 
 
 And for to make his voys the more strong, 
 
 He wolde so peyne him, that with both his yen 4495 
 He moste winke, so loude he wolde cryen, 
 
 And s ton den on his tiptoon ther withal, 
 
 And strecohe forth his nekke, long and smal. 
 
 And eek he was of swich discrecioun 
 That ther nas no man in no regioun 
 That him in song or wisdom mighte passe. 
 
 I have weel rad in “ Daun Burnel the Asse, ;? 
 
 Among his vers, how that ther was a cok, 
 
 For that a preestes sone yaf him a knok 
 Upon his leg whyl he was yong and nice, 
 
 45°5 
 
150 
 
 THE NUN'S PRIEST'S TALE 
 
 He made him for to lese his benefice. 0 
 But certeyn, ther nis no comparisoun 0 
 Bitwix the wisdom and discrecioun 
 Of youre fader, and of his subtiltee. 
 
 Now singeth, sire, for seynte charitee; 
 
 Lat se conne ye youre fader countrefete.* 
 
 This Chauntecleer his winges gan to bete, 
 As man 0 that coude his traysoun nat espye, 
 
 So was he ravished with his flaterye. 
 
 Allas ! ye lordes, many a fals flatour 
 Is in your courtes, and many a losengeour, 
 That plesen yow wel more, by my feith, 
 
 Than he that soothfastnesse unto yow seith 
 (Bedeth Ecclesiaste 6 Of Flatterye ? ),° 
 
 Beth war, ye lordes, of hir trecherye. 
 
 This Chauntecleer stood hye upon his toos, 
 Streccliing his nekke, and held his eyen cloos, 
 And gan to crowe loude for the nones. 
 
 And daun Bussel the fox sterte up at ones, 
 And by the gargat hente Chauntecleer, 
 
 And on his bak toward the wode him beer, 
 For yet ne was ther no man that him sewed. 
 
 0 destinee, that mayst nat been eschewed ! 
 Allas, that Chauntecleer fleigh fro the bemes ! 
 Allas, his wyf ne roughte nat of dremes ! 
 
 45 10 
 
 45*5 
 
 45 20 
 
 45 2 5 
 
 453 ° 
 
THE N UN'S PRIEST'S TALE 
 
 151 
 
 And on a Friday fil al this mesehaunce ! 
 
 0 Venus, that art goddesse of plesaunce, 
 
 Sin that thy servant was this Chauntecleer, 
 
 And in thy service dide al his poweer, 
 ******* 
 
 Why woltestow suffre him on thy day to dye ? 
 
 0 Gaufred, dere mayster soverayn, 
 
 That, whan thy worthy king Richard was slayn 
 With shot, coinpleynedest his deeth so sore ! 
 
 Why ne hadde I now thy sentence and thy lore, 
 The Friday f er to chide, as diden ye ? 
 
 (For on a Friday soothly slayn was he) 
 
 Than wolde I shewe yow how that I coude pleyne 
 For Chauntecleres drede and for his peyne. 
 
 Certes, swich cry ne lamentacioun 0 
 Was nevere of ladies maad, whan Ilioun 
 Was wonne, and Pirrus with his streite swerd, 
 Whan he hadde hent king Priam by the berd 
 And slayn him (as saith us Eneydos), 0 
 As maden alle the hennes in the clos, 
 
 Whan they had seyn of Chauntecleer the sighte. 
 But sovereynly dame Pertelote shrighte 
 Ful louder than dide Hasdrubales wyf ; 
 
 Whan that hir housbonde hadde lost his lyf, 
 
 And that the Romayns hadde brent Cartage, 
 
 4540 
 
 4545 
 
 4550 
 
 4555 
 
152 
 
 THE NUN’S PRIEST’S TALE 
 
 She was so ful of torment and of rage, 
 
 That wilfully into the fyr she sterte, 
 
 And brende hirselven with a stedfast herte. 
 
 0 woful hennes, right so criden ye, 
 
 As, whan that Nero brende the citee 
 Of Rome, criden the senatoures wives, 
 
 For that hir housbondes losten alle hir lives ; 
 Withouten gilt this Nero hath hem slayn. 
 
 Now wol I torne to my tale agayn. 
 
 This sely widwe and eek hir doughtres two 
 Herden thise hennes crye and maken wo, 
 
 And out at dores sterten they anoon, 
 
 And seyen the fox toward the grove goon, 
 
 And bar upon his bak the cok away ; 
 
 And criden, c Out ! ’ ‘ Harrow ! ? and ‘ Weylaway ! 
 < Ha/ ‘ ha/ ‘ The fox ! ’ and after him they ran, 
 And eek with staves many another 0 man ; 
 
 Ranne Colie our dogge, and Talbot, and Gerland, 
 And Malkin, with a distaf in hir hand; 
 
 Ran cow and calf ; and eek the verray hogges, 
 
 So fered for berkinge of the dogges 
 And shouting of the men and wommen eke, 
 
 They ronne so, hem thoughte hir herte breke ; 
 They yelleden as feendes doon in helle. 
 
 The dokes criden as men wolde hem quelle ; 
 
 456° 
 
 4565 
 
 4570 
 
 4575 
 
 45 8n 
 
THE NUN’S PRIEST’S TALE 
 
 153 
 
 The gees for fere flowen over the trees ; 
 
 Out of the hive cam the swarm of bees. 
 
 So hidous was the noys, A ! benedicite ! 
 
 Certes, he Jakke Straw , 0 and his meynee, 
 
 ]STe made nevere slioutes half so shrille, 4585 
 
 Whan that they wolden any Fleming 0 kille, 
 
 As thilke day was maad upon the fox. 
 
 Of bras they broughten bemes, and of box, 
 
 Of horn, of boon, in whiche they blewe and pouped, 
 And therwithal thay shriked and they houped, 4590 
 It seined as that hevene sholde falle. 
 
 How, gode men, I pray yow herkneth alle ! 
 
 Lo, how fortune turnetli sodeynly 
 The hope and pride eek of hir enemy ! 
 
 This cok, that lay upon the foxes bak, 
 
 In al his drede, unto the fox he spak, 
 
 And seyde, 6 Sire, if that I were as ye, 
 
 Yet sholde I seyn, as wys God helpe me, 
 
 “ Turneth agayn, ye proude cherles alle ! 
 
 A verray pestilence upon yow falle! 
 
 How am I come unto this wodes side, 
 
 Maugree your heed the cok shal heer abide ; 
 
 I wol him ete in feith, and that anon ! ” ’ 
 
 The fox answerde, ‘ In feith, it shal be don/ 
 
 And as he spak that word, al sodeynly 
 
 4595 
 
 4600 
 
 4605 
 
154 
 
 THE NUN’S PRIEST’S TALE 
 
 This cok brak from his mouth deliverly, 
 
 And heighe upon a tree he fleigh anon. 
 
 And whan the fox saugh that he was gon, 
 
 ‘ Allas ! ’ quod he, ‘ 0 Chauntecleer, alias ! 
 
 I have to yow,’ quod he, ‘ y-doon trespas, 4610 
 
 In-as-muche as I maked yow aferd, 
 
 Whan I yow hente and broughte out of the yerd. 
 
 But, sire, I dide it in no wikke entente ; 
 
 Com doun, and I shal telle yow what I mente ; 
 
 I shal seye sooth to yow, God help me so.’ 4615 
 
 ‘Nay, thanne,’ quod he, ‘ I shrewe us bothe two, 
 And first I shrewe myself, bothe blood and bones, 
 
 If thou bigile me ofter than ones. 
 
 Thou shalt namore thurgh thy flaterye 
 
 Do me to singe and winken with myn ye. 4620 
 
 For he that winketh whan he sholde see, 
 
 A 1 wilfully, God lat him nevere thee ! ’ 
 
 ‘Nay/ quod the fox, ‘but Godyive him meschaunce, 
 That is so undiscreet of governaunce, 
 
 That jangleth whan he sholde holde his pees.’ 4625 
 Lo, swich it is for to be recchelees, 
 
 And necligent, and truste on flaterye. 
 
 But ye that holden this tale a folye, 
 
 As of a fox, or of a cok and hen, 
 
 Taketh the moralitee, gode men ; 4630 
 
THE NUN’S PRIEST’S TALE 
 
 155 
 
 For Seynt Paul seith, that al that writen is, 
 
 To our doctrine it is y-write y-wis. 
 
 Taketh the fruyt and lat the chaf be stille. 
 
 Now, gode God, if that it be thy wille, 
 
 As seith my lord , 0 so make us alle gode men, 4635 
 And bringe us alle to his heighe blisse ! Amen. 
 

READING ALOUD 
 
 The rules given below may enable one to read the 
 verses with some approach to the usage of certain 
 Cliaucerians, if not to that of Chaucer himself. The 
 reader’s idea of the sounds and the verse will affect 
 the reception which attempts to read Chaucer aloud 
 will encounter ; but the acceptability of reading de- 
 pends in a greater degree on quality of voice and 
 appreciation of meaning. Nor will all these avail 
 unless one practises reading to others and for others. 
 
 To begin with the first line of the Prologue : — 
 
 Line 1. wh should be pronounced like wh in wheel , not 
 like w in weal. 
 
 a , when not ending a syllable, more like a in what 
 than a in cat ; but it is sometimes written for 
 aa (< a in father ). 
 
 ^ as now ; but see nn and ng. 
 
 th as in Modern English. 
 
 t always like t in tail , bat , fact ; never like t in 
 nation. 
 
 a, when ending a syllable, like a in father ; but 
 sometimes shorter. 
 
 157 
 
158 
 
 READING ALOUD 
 
 p as now. 
 
 r should always be trilled, and should never sug- 
 gest the sound, or rather absence of sound, of 
 either r in river. 
 
 i has the sound of i in still , pin, flint , when it stands 
 before two consonants. 
 
 I as now; but ll denotes* either a lengthening or 
 doubling of the sound. 
 
 e final is like a in Cuba , or blends with a follow- 
 ing vowel, or is silent, just as the verse requires. 
 We might accordingly print it when sounded, and 
 omit it when silent, if tastes and authorities agreed. 
 w initial as now. 
 
 h initial just as at present. It may be sounded in all 
 cases ; but after much reading one comes to drop it 
 in some common unaccented words : I’ve seen ’ im . 
 s final like ss in hiss, 
 sh as at present. 
 on (pw) like oo in pool. 
 
 e, not ending a syllable, like e in set ; but it is 
 sometimes written for ee (< ai in pair), 
 o, ending a syllable ( so-te ), like the first part pro- 
 longed of the diphthong o in so, tone, lone. 
 
 Line 2. d as our d. 
 
 gh as the Scotch pronounce ch in loch, 
 o, when not ending a syllable, like o in cot ; but it 
 is sometimes written for oo. 
 
READING ALOUD 
 
 159 
 
 / like jf in off \ never like v. 
 m as now. 
 
 ch {celt) like ch in church . 
 c always like c in codicil , never our sh. 
 
 Line 3. b as now. 
 v as now. 
 ey like i in thine. 
 
 Line 4. u, ending a syllable, like the French u, which 
 resembles u in use rather than in brute, 
 g like its representatives in the corresponding 
 modern English words. 
 
 Line 5. z as now. 
 ph like fin Jill. 
 
 u not ending a syllable, like u in pull, 
 ee like the first part of the diphthong a in fate pro- 
 longed. 
 
 e, ending a stressed syllable, like the preceding. 
 Line 6. i (y), ending a stressed syllable, like i in ma- 
 chine. 
 
 y consonant as now. 
 
 ng as in the corresponding modern words. 
 nn indicates a lengthening, or doubling, of the 
 sound. 
 
 Line 9. k as now. 
 
 Line 12. oo as o in Chaucer’s so-te. 
 
 Line 13. au like ou in count. 
 
 Line 19. ay like i in mine. 
 
 Line 24. gn nearly like n. 
 
160 
 
 READING ALOUD 
 
 Consonants are pronounced with the following vowel, 
 if possible. 
 
 Every letter is pronounced ; thus l is sounded in 
 folk , palmeres , walk , and k in knight , knowe. There are, 
 however, certain groups, like sh, ng , which are treated 
 as single signs. Some readers often omit a vowel, par- 
 ticularly e. Benedicite is pronounced ben’dic’te. 
 
 Even if one did not know the meaning of a single 
 word, the preceding directions would be sufficient for 
 reading the text aloud, so far as the sounds of the letters 
 are concerned ; but there is much more in reading than 
 the mere sequence of the sounds of the letters. A let- 
 ter on the page is a direction to make some vowel or 
 consonant sound. Let me call the sequence of these 
 sounds that corresponds to the succession of the letters 
 the vowel-consonant series. But one cannot utter this 
 series without giving to each sound in it certain qual- 
 ities that are rarely indicated by anything on the printed 
 page. We can give to the sound a longer or shorter 
 duration, can say it in a higher or a lower note, can speak 
 it in a louder or softer tone. There exist in constant 
 association with the vowel-consonant series, and with 
 one another, three other series : the long-short series, 
 the high-low series, the loud-soft series. There are, too, 
 pauses which we regard as parts of the speech series and 
 discriminate from those stops and breaks which we 
 ascribe to imperfections in voice or mind. Each of 
 
READING ALOUD 
 
 161 
 
 these series falls into successive groups, determined in 
 part by thought and emotion, in part by other influ- 
 ences, — breathing in and out, for instance. / We may 
 speak of a sense-group, a breath-group, a strong-weak 
 group, and so forth. Unlike groups sometimes do and 
 sometimes do not begin or end together. There are, 
 moreover, in the speech series resemblances of part to 
 part. Verse emerges when these resemblances recur 
 with such constancy that they attract notice, and are 
 remembered, recognized, anticipated, and at last planned, 
 calculated, contrived. This constancy is rarely so great 
 that absolute verse results, and rarely so little that it is 
 absolute prose. The expectation of this recurrence, or 
 the desire to secure it, often changes the utterance of a 
 group from what it would otherwise have been. There 
 are great differences in the degrees of change which 
 speech has been made to undergo in order to secure 
 these resemblances and contrasts in sense or in sound. 
 The aim has been to produce a certain form, or to pro- 
 duce an effect on the mind by means of this form. The 
 degree of change which some tolerate or praise, others 
 condemn or reject. Some, indeed, find uniformity of 
 repetition so painful that they instinctively, or pur- 
 posely, in the composition or construction of verse, 
 abandon, for a moment, one or more of the expected 
 resemblances, with or without replacing them by 
 another set of resemblances. 
 
162 
 
 READING ALOUD 
 
 This text of Chaucer represents little more than the 
 vowel-consonant series. And yet while so much is left 
 unexpressed, of some things there is a superfluity of 
 indications. Thus a verse is indicated to the eye by 
 the separate line and the initial capital ; and one of 
 the many functions of the marks of punctuation is to 
 distinguish a verse from what precedes and follows it. 
 Chaucer indeed knew nothing of punctuation and had 
 to write so as to be intelligible without it. This will 
 help to see what I mean: Write on a strip of paper 
 a dozen verses of Chaucer in one continuous line, 
 without capitals, without punctuation, yes, without 
 separating the words, so that the dozen verses will 
 appear as one great word ; and you will be surprised 
 at the ease with which one can make out where 
 the verses begin and end, and what the sense is of 
 each. A like experiment with any similar verses 
 of the nineteenth century would often show how little 
 correspondence there is between the thought-series and 
 the language-series. Chaucer’s verses rime to the eye 
 as well as to the ear in couplets. Triplets do not 
 occur. 
 
 The rimes are single, either ending in a consonant : — 
 
 That alle the feeldes gliteren up and doun; 
 
 And by his baner born is his penoun 978 
 
 or ending in a vowel : — 
 
READING ALOUD 
 
 163 
 
 Goth in the chambre , roming to and fro, 
 
 And to himself compleyninge of his wo ; 1072 
 
 or the rimes are double, either ending in a consonant : — 
 
 And by assaut he wan the citee after , 
 
 And rente adoun bothe wall and sparre and rafter; 990 
 
 or ending in a vowel, — the obscure e, with scarcely an 
 exception : — 
 
 Him thoughte a man stood by his beddes side, 
 
 And him comaunded that he sholde abide, 4270 
 
 Of the long-short series there are no other marks 
 than such as are found in the signs of the vowel- 
 consonant series. Thus, 0 at the end of a syllable is 
 prolonged, as in so-te; when not at the end of a syllable 
 it is usually shortened, as in croppes; 00 stands for the 
 long sound sometimes, as in hoost. 
 
 There are no indications whatever of the high-low 
 series, except such as may be afforded by the modern 
 punctuation. And yet every story-teller knows that 
 his intention, especially his humour, is rarely ap- 
 preciated unless some subtle inflection intimates to the 
 hearer that an utterance means more than others would 
 be likely to discern in it. It is like a glance, a gesture, 
 a movement, that reveals a situation or a character in 
 an instant, with no commentary to thank. 
 
 Strangest thing of all, there does not appear to be 
 any indication whatever of the loud-soft series; and 
 
164 
 
 READING ALOUD 
 
 this, when we are told that Chaucer was, and that all 
 good poets, in England at least, are, more concerned 
 about the proper alternation and succession of loud 
 and soft syllables than about any other qualities of the 
 sound whatever. Singular oversight that has made 
 necessary numerous volumes to communicate the 
 results of laborious investigations when a few simple 
 marks might have shown us how Chaucer read his 
 verses in this respect at least, — what syllables he 
 made strong and what weak. So there remains this 
 question, What syllables were stressed and how much ? 
 and its counterpart, What syllables were unstressed, 
 were slurred, or even omitted altogether? 
 
 In Modern English we have the ear to guide us when 
 we read, — or rather the memories of the sounds of 
 words. Look at the following from Miss Preston’s 
 Translation of the Georgies of Vergil: — 
 
 “Yea, I have seen, when harvest days are early, 
 
 And the first reapers, the golden fields among, 
 
 Shredding from slender stems the ripened barley, 
 
 Shock as of all the winds together flung 
 In battle. Then the very stalks, uptorn 
 By the furious hurricane, aloft are borne, 
 
 And whirled into the blackness of the storm 
 The culms and the winged stubble. Or yet again 
 Far over the deep the clouds their squadrons form, 
 
 And the mighty mass rolls inland, foul with rain ; 
 
 And, like a foe, the flood bursts out of the sky, 
 
 And the very aether topples from on high.” 
 
READING ALOUD 
 
 165 
 
 Five hundred years from now can any one, having 
 only this text before him, say what sounds the charac- 
 ters stand for, see that the a’s have not the same value 
 in have , harvest , days , early , among , and all , or tell 
 whether /oe is of one or two sy. ables, or whether the 
 first or the last syllable of blackness is stressed ? 
 Fortunately the translator’s preface, should it be pre- 
 served, will furnish an account of her versification, 
 though expressed in terms that are ambiguous enough 
 even now. 
 
 But let me try to describe the verse of Chaucer with 
 as much freedom from any admixture of irrelevant con- 
 ceptions as language will allow. There are in each 
 verse five strong syllables. Before the first of the 
 strong syllables, after the last, and between any two, 
 stands one weak syllable ; sometimes two; rarely, except 
 at the end of a verse, none. The five stresses are of very 
 unequal strength. One is usually very weak relatively 
 to any one of the others. The remaining four then 
 stand out with greater, though unequal, prominence. 
 The weak syllables are not equally weak. The strong 
 syllables are commonly longer than the weak. The 
 strong syllables convey more of the meaning than the 
 weak. 
 
 The division between lines usually coincides with a 
 division between sense-groups. Not only is couplet 
 separated from couplet in this way, but the first line 
 
166 
 
 READING ALOUD 
 
 of a couplet from the second. A line usually con- 
 tains two sense-groups. These share the line as equally 
 as may be ; two of the stronger accents going with the 
 one, and two with the other. Sometimes a sense- 
 group tills out the whole line, and it sometimes termi- 
 nates unexpectedly even after the first or the fourth 
 stronger accent. But the unexpected as a literary 
 force is sparingly used. Chaucer does not make mani- 
 fest that he had the conception of a verse-form that 
 could survive such shocks persistently repeated. 
 
 “ Time fleets : 
 
 That’s worst ! Because the pre-appointed age 
 Approaches. Fate is tardy with the stage 
 And crowd she promised. Lean he grows and pale, 
 Though restlessly at rest. Hardly avail 
 Fancies to soothe him. Time steals, yet alone 
 He tarries here ! The earnest smile is gone. 
 
 How long this might continue, matters not ; 
 
 — Forever, possibly ; since to the spot 
 None come : ” 
 
 It is questioned whether the verses are of equal 
 duration, whether a verse is always made up of a defi- 
 nite number of parts that equal one another in dura- 
 tion, whether each such part begins or terminates at a 
 stressed syllable or otherwise. I imagine that some 
 ears require this uniformity, and that others are in- 
 capable of discerning it. 
 
READING ALOUD 
 
 167 
 
 If two light syllables come between two heavy 
 syllables, they are by some readers always reduced to 
 one. By others they are never reduced to one. By 
 other readers they are sometimes reduced to one and 
 sometimes not, according to their nature and position. 
 
 I have stated a variety of usages, because it is well 
 to try the effect of reading the lines in different ways, 
 and to find, by discussion with associates, grounds for 
 preferring one to the other, if there is any preference. 
 I suppose there were differences among Chaucer’s con- 
 temporaries not less than among readers of Chaucer 
 to-day. It would not be strange if Chaucer himself 
 read a verse at one time in one way, at another time 
 in another. A verse is not like a line in a picture : 
 and even that changes with changing light, and in the 
 presence of other lines. A verse is as flexible as the 
 lips that utter it. From uniformity in the former and 
 from repose in the latter there is a broad range this 
 side of distortion and caricature. 
 
 As a preparation for dealing with Chaucer’s verse, 
 observe the rendering of the following lines : — 
 
 44 Year following year , steals something every day." 
 
 44 To books and study give seven years complete ." 
 
 44 Soft in her lap her laureate son reclines ." — Pope 
 
 44 And grow incorporate into thee." 
 
 44 But for the unquiet heart and brain." 
 
 44 At earliest morning to the door." 
 
168 
 
 READING ALOUD 
 
 “ Through prosperous floods liis holy urn." 
 
 “ Some dolorous message knit below." 
 u Tears of the widower , when he sees." 
 
 “ The violet of his native land." 
 
 “And hears the ritual of the dead." 
 
 “ To many a flute of Arcady." 
 
 “ Last year , impetuously we sang." — Tennyson* 
 
 t t tt t t 
 
 Whan that Aprille with his shoures sote 1 
 
 t tt t t r 
 
 And bathed every veyne in swich licour 3 
 
 / tt tt t 
 
 Troutlie and honour , fredom and courteisye 46 
 
 t t tt tt 
 
 Al bismotered with his habergeoun 76 
 
 t t tt rr 
 
 Under his belt he bar ful thriftily 105 
 
 t t t t t 
 
 Wei coude he dresse his talcel yemanly 106 
 
 t t t tt r 
 
 After the scole of Stratford atte Bowe 125 
 
 tt t tt t 
 
 That no drope ne fille upon hir brest 131 
 
 t t tt r r 
 
 In curteisye teas set ful moche hir lest 132 
 
 t t tt t r 
 
 That in hir coppe there was no ferthing sene 134 
 
 t tt t t t 
 
 Is likned til a fish that is waterlees 180 
 
 tt t t r 
 
 He hadde of gold wrought a ful curious pin 
 
 196 
 
READING ALOUD 
 
 169 
 
 / rr r t t 
 
 So moche of daliaunce and fair langage 211 
 
 t t tt t f 
 
 Ful wel biloved and famulier was lie 215 
 
 t t tt t t 
 
 For to delen with no swich poraille 247 
 
 t t tt t t 
 
 With a thredbare cope , as is a povre scoler 260 
 
 / tt tt tt 
 
 So estatly was he of his governaunce 281 
 
 / tt tt 
 
 Ful thredbare was his overeste courtepy 290 
 
 t t f t t 
 
 For he hadde geten him yet no benefice 291 
 
 rtr f r 
 
 Twenty bokes clad in blak or reed 294 
 
 r r r t rr 
 
 Yet hadde he but litel gold in cofre 298 
 
 tr t rr r 
 
 Of studie took he most cure and most hede 303 
 
 rtr rtr 
 
 His purchasing mighte nat been infect 320 
 
 t t t rr t 
 
 And yet he semed bisier than he was 322 
 
 t tt t t t 
 
 After the sondry sesouns of the yeer 347 
 
 r tt t tt 
 
 Ful many a fat partrich hadde he in mewe 349 
 
 tt rtr 
 
 And many a breem and many a luce in stewe 350 
 
 t t t rr r 
 
 That on his shine a mormal hadde he 386 
 
170 
 
 READING ALOUD 
 
 t t tt t t 
 
 A daggere hanginge on a laas hadde he 392 
 
 t t 1 1 t t 
 
 The hate somer hadde maad his kewe al broun 394 
 
 / t t t t 
 
 If that he faught and hadde the hyer hond 399 
 
 r t t tt t 
 
 By water he sente hem hoom to every lond 40C 
 
 t t tt t t 
 
 With many a tempest hadde his herd been shake 406 
 
 tt tt t t 
 
 And where engendred and of what humour 421 
 
 r t tt t t 
 
 Of his diete mesurable was he 435 
 
 t t t tt t 
 
 In al the parishe wyf ne was ther noon 449 
 
 t r r tt r 
 
 And thryes hadde she been at Jerusalem 463 
 
 t t t tt r 
 
 Wyd was his parishe and houses fer asonder 491 
 
 r tt t t t 
 
 The ferreste in his parishe moche and lite 494 
 
 / t t tt t 
 
 And shame it is if a preest take kepe 503 
 
 t t t tt t 
 
 He was a shepherde and nought a mercenarie 514 
 
 tt r t t t 
 
 In a tabard he rood upon a mere 541 
 
 t r t t r 
 
 A gentil Maunciple was ther of a temple 567 
 
 r t tt t t 
 
 To make him live by his propre good 581 
 
THE TEXT 171 
 
 / 9 9 99 9 
 
 His herd was shave as ny as ever he can 588 
 
 9 99 t 9 9 
 
 His heer was by his eres ful round y-shorn 589 
 
 9 9 9 99 9 
 
 In youthe he lerned hadde a good mister 613 
 
 9 99 9 9 9 
 
 But hood for joiitee wered he noon 680 
 
 9 9 9 9 99 
 
 No herd hadde he ne never sholde have 689 
 
 THE TEXT 
 
 The first book printed in English, The Recuyell of 
 the History es of Troye , was put to press at Bruges 
 in 1474 by William Caxton. About two years later 
 he set up his wooden printing-press at the sign of the 
 Bed Pole in the Almonry of Westminster. Within a 
 few years he had issued the first printed edition of 
 The Canterbury Tales in that curious type which 
 looks like Monkish script and has been since 1600 
 called Black Letter. Until 1478 the Tales had circu- 
 lated in manuscripts alone. There are still extant 
 some fifty of these, but none that can be safely as- 
 signed to a date earlier than a quarter of a century 
 after Chaucer’s death, or proved to be a copy of what 
 Chaucer himself wrote or dictated. Faithful pictures 
 of single pages have been published, and the frontis- 
 
172 
 
 THE TEXT 
 
 piece of this book is a sample of a part of one of these 
 reduced in size. The Chaucer Society has published 
 facsimiles of different manuscripts. In six of these 
 eleven of the lines of the Prologue appear as follows : — 
 
 Bifil that /in that seson on a day 
 In Southwerk / at the Tabard as I lay 
 Bedy /to wenden on my pilgry mage 
 To Caunterbury /with ful deuout corage 
 At nyght / were come /in to that hostelry e 
 Wei nyne and twenty in a compaignye 
 Of sondry folk /by aventure y-falle 
 In felaweshipe / and pilgrimes were they alle 
 That toward Caunterbury wolden ryde 
 The chambres and the stables weren wyde 
 And wel we weren esed atte beste 
 
 Bifel that in that sesoun on a day 
 In Southiverk' at the Tabard /as . I . lay 
 Bedy to weenden / on my pilgry mage 
 To Caunterbury / with ful deuout corage 
 At nyght was come /in to that hostelrye 
 Wei . XXIX . in a compaignye 
 Of sondry folk /by auenture yfalle 
 In felaweshipe / and pilgrymes weere they alle 
 That toward Caunterbury wolden ryde 
 The chambres and the stables /weeren wyde 
 And reel we weeren esed at the beste 
 
 Byfell that . in that sesoun on a daye. 
 
 In suthwerk . at the Thabard as I laye. 
 
 Bedy to weenden . on my pilgrymage. 
 
THE TEXT 
 
 173 
 
 To Caunterbury . with full deuoute corage. 
 At nyght was come . in to that hostelrye. 
 Well nyne and twenty . in a companye. 
 
 Of sondry folk . by auenture falle. 
 Infelschip . and pilgrymes were thei alle. 
 That toward Cauntirbury . wolde ryde. 
 
 The chambres . and the stables weren wyde Q 
 And well were esid . at the beste. 
 
 bifill that on that seson on a day 
 in Suthwork atte Tabard as I lay 
 redy to wende/on my pilgrimage 
 to Caunterbury /with ful deuout corage 
 at night was come/in-to that hosterie 
 wel . XXIX. in a companye 
 of sondry folk /bi auenture I-falle 
 in feloshipe / and pilgr ernes were thei alle 
 that toward Caunterbury wolde ryde 
 the chambres and stablis weren wyde 
 and wel weren eased at the beste 
 
 Byfille that in that seson on aday 
 In southwerk atte Tabbard as I lay 
 Redy to wende on my pit gry mage 
 To Cantirbury with ful devout corage 
 At nyht was come in to that hostellerye 
 Wel nyne and twenty on a companye 
 Of sondry folk by auenture yfalle 
 In felaschipe and pilgrymes were they alle 
 That toward Cantirbery wolde ryde 
 The Chambres and stables weren wyde 
 And wel weren esed atte beste 
 
174 
 
 THE TEXT 
 
 It be-fel than in that sesone vpon a dale 
 In Suthewerke att the tabard as . I . laie 
 Bedi to wende on my pilgremage. 
 
 To Canterburie with ful deuoute Corage. 
 
 At nyhte was come in-to that hostellerie 
 Wei Nyne and twente on a companye 
 Of sondre folke be auenture yfalle 
 In felauschipe and Pilgrimes were they alle 
 To-warde Camterburi that wolde ride 
 The Chambres and stables weren wyde 
 And wele weren esede at the beste 
 
 Each of these versions differs from another, and 
 from any printed text, — Skeat’s, Pollard’s, or Lid- 
 dell’s, for instance. There are no marks of punctua- 
 tion; but, as now, each verse has a line to itself and 
 begins with a capital, and in some instances subdivi- 
 sions of the lines are indicated by slanting strokes. 
 These devices leave the grouping of the lines in uncer- 
 tainty, and this is one source of the difference of 
 punctuation in the modern editions. 
 
 The versions differ also in spelling ; as witness Bi- 
 fid, Bifid, Byfell , hi fill, Byfille, befiel. Note also wenden 
 and wende, wolden and wolde, weren and were. In the 
 manuscript which is the most satisfactory of all to 
 modern readers, semeely, semely, semyly occur within a 
 few lines. One may well ask if it is worth while to 
 retain this diversity in a book intended for school 
 youth or indeed if it is well to retain the ancient 
 
THE TEXT 
 
 175 
 
 orthography at all. The spelling of printed English 
 is now nearly uniform in all parts of the world. One 
 unfortunate consequence of this is that the spelling 
 has ceased to indicate the sounds spoken, different as 
 these may be in Australia and in America. But the 
 advantages are great; so great indeed that this fixed 
 orthography with all its inconsistencies has been 
 extended over the past. We know that Milton’s 
 pronunciation was not that of an educated Londoner 
 of to-day, and what his spelling was one can see in 
 the following specimen from the original edition of 
 Paradise Lost : — 
 
 Nor did they not perceave the evil plight 
 In which they were , nor the fierce pains not feel : 
 
 Yet to their Generals Voyce they soon obeyd 
 Innumerable. As when the potent Rod 
 Of Amrams son in Egypts evill day 
 Wav'd round the Coast , up call'd a pitchy cloud 
 Of Locusts, warping on the Eastern Wind , 
 
 That ore the Realm of impious Pharaoh hung 
 Like night and darken'd all the Land of Nile : 
 
 Shakespeare is a step farther removed. In our read- 
 ing we make no attempt to speak as he did, and in 
 our editions for the use of the people’s schools we 
 do not once think of retaining the contemporary spell- 
 ing. In fact it has little to recommend it except to 
 the minute student, as one may see by the following 
 
176 
 
 THE TEXT 
 
 extract from Love’s Labour’s Lost as it appears in a 
 Quarto of 1598 : — 
 
 u Let Fame , that all hunt after in their lyues , 
 
 Line registred vpon our brazen Tombes , 
 
 And then grace vs, in the disgrace of death : 
 
 When spight of cormorant deuouring Time , 
 Thendeuour of this present breath may buy : 
 
 That honour which shall bare his sythes keene edge , 
 And make vs heires of all eternitie. 
 
 Therefore braue Conquerours , for so you are , 
 
 That warre agaynst your owne affections, 
 
 And the hudge armie of the worldes desires. 
 
 Our late edict shall strongly stand in force, 
 
 Nauar shall be the wonder of the worlde , 
 
 Our Court shalbe a lytlle Achademe , 
 
 Still and contemplatyue in lyuing art.” 
 
 This same system of uniform orthography of ours 
 has been extended by some editors to the works of 
 Chaucer. Any text or pronunciation, it is asserted by 
 them, will be but an approximation to Chaucer’s own, 
 which was hardly faultless, we may assume ; certainly 
 not ideal. Neither spelling nor sounds, even if we 
 knew them, are facts in the life of the fourteenth cen- 
 tury, or in the career of Chaucer, at any rate as poet, 
 that concern any one but a professional philologist. 
 What is wanted is the meaning, the feeling that went 
 with the words ; and that they claim we can get more 
 readily and pleasurably from a text in modern spell- 
 
THE TEXT 
 
 177 
 
 mg, pronounced in some modern wise, with thanks for 
 as much of the song-craft as may survive. 
 
 I might ask what have we then of the fourteenth 
 century — what knowledge, what relic — that is more 
 than a mere approximation to the reality of the four- 
 teenth century itself? It is hardly a reason for re- 
 jecting the texts and pronunciations which are offered 
 that they are but rough approximations to what Chau- 
 cer wrote and spoke. The fact is that the current of 
 Chaucer’s influence has swept in many different direc- 
 tions. There are modernizations, translations, imita- 
 tions, adaptations of The Canterbury Tales , and there 
 will be; among which choice is free. But school youth 
 should be required to withdraw their attention from 
 the word as it is to-day, with its present spelling and 
 pronunciation, and all the associations that these imply, 
 and try to see and hear and speak the words and think 
 their meanings as they were in the fourteenth century. 
 To give but one instance of what will find ample illus- 
 tration in every page, Chaucer’s sclioures , sliowres , 
 shoures , differs not only in spelling and pronunciation 
 from our showers, but in meaning also ; that is to say, 
 in what it suggests, not in what a glossary can define 
 it to mean. Or is it a mere whim of my own mind, 
 not deserving to be adopted by other minds, that leads 
 me to see and hear in shoures drops of water falling 
 from a darkened sky on field and river, while showers 
 
 N 
 
178 
 
 THE TEXT 
 
 are predicted in newspapers by those who know of the 
 wind whence it cometh and whither it goeth ? 
 
 But this is difficult, one objects. The principle im- 
 plied in the retention of early forms of the language 
 in order to preserve the freshness of the early thought, 
 would require one to be seated in a Chaucerian 
 chambre , clothed in a Chaucerian cote-hardie, and set 
 to reading from a Chaucerian manuscript by the light 
 of a Chaucerian candle. That is just what I would 
 do, and much more besides, even to setting the Shire 
 of Kent back five hundred years, and taking four days 
 in going with a band of pilgrims from Southwerk to 
 Caunterbury. That is what we try to do in homes 
 and theatres, in tableaux and masquerades, in statues 
 and pictures, and certainly in fancies and imagina- 
 tions. We may see nothing but the time-worn text, 
 waking only broken echoes from the song of “the 
 morning star of poesy who made his music heard be- 
 low ; ” but this we can see, and behold in it, “ like the 
 sights in a magic crystal ball,” Chaucer’s England. 
 
 And yet the text which you here see put, though 
 not modernized, has been made more uniform than 
 most others. Shoures has not been changed to showers , 
 breeth to breath , palmer es to palmers , felawesliipe to fel- 
 lowship; silent and mispronounced letters have not 
 ijeen introduced, however useful they may now be to 
 us in distinguishing for the eye words that cannot be 
 
THE LANGUAGE 
 
 179 
 
 distinguished by the ear; and, of course, letters that 
 have since become silent have been retained when 
 they were pronounced in the fourteenth century. But 
 I have not thought it desirable to trouble the reader 
 with the fact that seson was sometimes written, but 
 was the same in meaning and pronunciation as the 
 sesoun that was found in other passages ; and as long 
 as drought was written in some places, it did not seem 
 necessary to write droglit in others with the accom- 
 panying explanation that it was pronounced like the 
 former. Still no one consideration has been allowed 
 to prevail to the exclusion of every other; and this 
 much may be said that in some cases where there are 
 only probabilities, and such probabilities as admit of 
 no numerical evaluation, two minds, or even one mind 
 at different times, have not come to the same conclu- 
 sion. If you go beyond this book in the study of 
 Chaucer or of Middle English, you will have much to 
 learn, but I trust not a great deal to unlearn. 
 
 THE LANGUAGE 
 
 The following remarks concern the language in 
 script and in print ; the language in speech has already 
 been considered. These two modes of utterance differ 
 greatly from each other. Speech may be intelligible, 
 
180 
 
 THE LANGUAGE 
 
 correct, even elegant, but script has too few signs to 
 be in any considerable degree the counterpart of 
 speech. It has, however, some resources of its own to 
 use in compensation. Such are different spellings of 
 words which sound alike; changes in the order of 
 words ; punctuation-marks and other distinguishing 
 signs which have direct correspondences in the thought- 
 series and not in the sound-series; the arrangement 
 of the characters on the page ; and especially the fact 
 that all the parts of the visible expression exist at 
 the same time, and admit of easy comparison, while 
 the parts of the audible utterance are successive. 
 
 Aside from the general aspect of the written or 
 printed page, and from some minor matters of punctu- 
 ation, we find in Chaucer’s language : — 
 
 1. Words that 'have gone out of use together with 
 their meanings : arilaas , court epy, /aiding, gipoun , haber- 
 geoun , and a few others. 
 
 2. Words that have gone out of use, and been re- 
 placed by other words of like meaning : cibyen , apalle , 
 deduyt , lechecraft , swinJcen, taas. 
 
 3. Words that are still in use but with changed 
 meanings : minister , wit , bacheler , blankmanger , and 
 many others, if meaning is used to denote all that a 
 word suggests, and slight changes are considered. 
 
 4. Words that are still in use with unchanged 
 meaning : Aprille , bathed, slepen , melodye, and very 
 
THE LANGUAGE 
 
 181 
 
 many more ; and yet it would often be very difficult 
 to decide whether a word belongs to this class or the 
 preceding, unless meaning is confined to the significa- 
 tion which can be exhibited in a dictionary. 
 
 Of the words that have been retained, there are few 
 that have not been altered in spelling: slepen and 
 sleep, sesoun and season, chambres and chambers, felawe- 
 shipe and fellowship. The complicated relations among 
 changes of spelling, changes of pronunciation, and 
 changes of meaning are not easy to ascertain or exhibit, 
 and few generalizations or brief summaries are possible. 
 
 Forms that differed slightly, as slepen, slepe , step’, 
 have mingled into one, and the original differences of 
 meaning, if such existed, are expressed otherwise or 
 disregarded. 
 
 Different parts of a sentence often expressed the 
 same thing. This I call Multiple Indication. Modern 
 English has passed to Single Indication, though it 
 still retains some instances of Double and even Triple 
 Indication. In Tho foure yonge men riden yesterday, 
 we find expressed seven times that there were more 
 youths than one ; once by tho, twice by foure, once by 
 yonge, once by men, twice by riden. Tho is a plural 
 form ; four is plural by its definition ; the termination 
 e in foure and yonge implies plurality ; men is plural 
 as contrasted with man, the need of a special form 
 (like min , say, that would mean either) being rarely 
 
182 
 
 THE LANGUAGE 
 
 felt ; both parts of rid-en denote that there was more 
 than one rider. In Those four young men rode yesterday , 
 the indications of more than one are reduced to three ; 
 for rode is neither singular nor plural. Chaucer would 
 have said he rood , but they riden; we say he rode and 
 they rode , and one cannot tell by rode anything about 
 the number of the riders. We still retain Double In- 
 dication in rode and yesterday , both of which refer us to 
 a past; the former vaguely, the latter more definitely. 
 
 I have said that the e in yonge was a sign of plural- 
 ity; but it had come to be the sign of many other 
 things, and often of nothing at all. The e then had 
 no longer any function so far as the mere signification 
 was concerned, and gradually disappeared, now here, 
 now there, in this phrase and in that phrase, with one 
 class of the people and with another class, in one style 
 of composition and in another style, as sentiment or 
 structure determined. It was written where it was 
 not heard, and heard where it was not written ; but as 
 is evident from what has been said, its presence or ab- 
 sence rarely affected the determination of the meaning. 
 
 Such expressions as where as that , there as, whanne 
 ’.hat, originated at a time when the component words, 
 whan, wher, ther, etc., had not the restricted meaning 
 and use which they have now. Where and when have 
 now taken the place of these phrases. 
 
 The merging of several like words into one, the ap 
 
THE LANGUAGE 
 
 183 
 
 proach to Single Indication, the omission of parts of 
 phrases, mark differences that five hundred years have 
 made in the language. The changes in detail are 
 numerous enough, as you cannot fail to note when you 
 compare with the original your written translation 
 into Modern English. 
 
 Meanings are expressed in Modern English by marks 
 of punctuation, by differences in letters, as capitals and 
 italics, by the apostrophe, and a few similar signs, to 
 an extent altogether unknown to Chaucer’s English. 
 
 NOUNS 
 
 The plural is like the singular : caas , hors , neet , paas, 
 pound , sheep , swyn , vers , yeer . 
 
 The plural differs from the singular by vowel- 
 change: foot, feet ; goos , gees; man , men . 
 
 The plural adds n to the singular, often with other 
 changes: asshe, asslien ; brothor , br ether en; child , chil- 
 dren; daughter , doughtren; eye , eyen; ox , oxen; suster , 
 sustren; too , toon; ye , yen . 
 
 The plural adds es to the singular, with doubling of 
 its final consonant when necessary: ford, lordes ; god , 
 goddes; crop , croppes; palmer, palmer es ; teer , teres. 
 
 The plural adds s to the singular: bargayn , &ar- 
 gayns; nacioun , naciouns . 
 
 The singular has sometimes two plurals : too, toos 
 and tocm. 
 
184 
 
 THE LANGUAGE 
 
 The genitive ends in es : his lordes sheep , his lord’s 
 or his lords’ sheep ; a siverdes lengtlie , a sword’s length. 
 
 Except the following: his lady grace, our lady veil ; 
 at the sonne upriste , the rose colour , herte blood , my 
 fader soule, a hinges brother sone , to Venus temple. 
 
 The relation of the meaning of a noun to the mean- 
 ing of any other part of a sentence was expressed in 
 the absence of noun-inflections by the inflections of 
 other words, especially pronouns, by special words, 
 by position, or left unexpressed or contradicted in ex- 
 pression, when the relation itself was obvious or irre- 
 versible. 
 
 The noun itself is not infrequently omitted when its 
 meaning is pointed to by these and other indications : — 
 
 Bight as the hunters in the regne of Trace , 
 
 That stondeth at the gappe with a spere , 
 
 Whan hunted is the leoun or the here, 
 
 And hereth him come rushing in the greves , 
 
 And breketh bothe bowes and the leves, 
 
 And thinketh , ‘ heer cometh my mortel enemy , 
 
 Without e faile he moot be deed or 1644 
 
 PRONOUNS 
 
 in the Glossary will be found a translation of each 
 peculiar form, and in the Notes a fuller explanation 
 in at least one instance of its occurrence. Here certain 
 differences of idiom are noted. 
 
THE LANGUAGE 
 
 185 
 
 Shaltow, wiltow are for shalt thou , wilt thou . Ye is 
 subject-form, and you object-form : Ye finden me, I 
 finde you. Hit and his are it and its. Hem is them. 
 My, myn, mine are my ; the two last also mine. Simi- 
 larly with thy, thyn, thine. His and hise mean his; 
 her and here, as well as hir and hire mean her or hers, 
 and their or theirs. Our and oure mean our or ours, 
 and similarly with your and youre. 
 
 Tharray, tb! array, the array, illustrates the treatment 
 of the before a vowel. That oon, that other equal the 
 one, the other. Atte means at the. Tlio is sometimes 
 to be translated those. 
 
 Which, the whiche is translated by who or whom as 
 well as by which. Swich . . . which is such ... as. 
 That ... he is frequent as a relative pronoun : — 
 
 At were they sore y-hurt , and namely oon, 
 
 That with a spere was thirled his brest boon . 2710 
 
 Whose breast-bone was pierced by a spear. The clause 
 introduced by who or which is often preceded by that : — 
 
 Than shal I yeve Emelya to wive 
 
 To whom that fortune yeveth so fair a grace. 1861 
 
 Men, not the plural but a weakened form of man, is 
 used with a singular verb in the sense of one or some 
 one or any one : — 
 
 Or if men smoot it with a yerde smerte. 149 
 
 For alday meteth men at unset stevene. 1524 
 
 > 
 
186 
 
 THE LANGUAGE 
 
 Som is singular, and som . . . som means one . . . 
 another : — 
 
 Som in his bed , som in the depe see. 3031 
 
 I see me , thou seest thee can hardly mean anything 
 else than I see myself, thou seest thyself He seetli him 
 may mean he sees himself; and they seyn hem , they see 
 themselves. 
 
 He . . . he is translated this one . . . that one in: — 
 
 Somme sayde he loked grim , and he ivolde fighte. 2519 
 In : — 
 
 And he him hurtleth with his hors adoun. 2616 
 
 translate : One dashes down another. 
 
 The view, whence the name, that a pronoun is a word 
 which takes the place of a noun is less useful than the 
 view that it is a word of wide applicability which 
 accordingly names what may be more definitely indi- 
 cated otherwise. The former view points to a relation 
 to preceding or following words ; the latter to things 
 and thoughts however they may have been or are to be 
 designated. The former view prevails with those who 
 have to talk about language ; the latter would prevail 
 with those who have to talk about other things only, if 
 they could give any account of their own usage. The 
 presence and absence of the pronoun then should be 
 determined by its utility. If nouns and verbs had 
 suitable inflections, it would be introduced solely for 
 
THE LANGUAGE 
 
 187 
 
 the sake of the meaning of its stem. If it should 
 retain its inflection while verbs and nouns lost theirs, 
 it might be used for the meaning of its inflections 
 alone. Chaucer treats even nouns and verbs with 
 respect to their insertion, repetition, or omission as 
 freely as he does pronouns. My purpose in saying 
 this is to encourage the practice of studying the mean- 
 ing of each instance, as of him in the subjoined quota- 
 tion, rather than that of referring it, as here, to some 
 such rule as : A noun is often repeated in the form of 
 a pronoun : — 
 
 Now been thise listes maad, and Theseus , 
 
 That at his grete cost arrayed thus 
 The temples and the theatre every del , 
 
 Whan it was done , hifn liked wonder well. 2092 
 
 Here him shows the relation of Theseus to liked: it 
 pleased Theseus. 
 
 And al was conscience and tendre herte. 150 
 
 That is, she was all conscience and tenderness of heart. 
 
 For unto swich a worthy man as he 
 
 Acorded nat , etc. 244 
 
 It did not accord, was not suitable. 
 
 That Iicas of their felaweshipe anon ; 
 
 And made forward erly for to rise , 3 ? 
 
 we made an agreement. 
 
188 
 
 THE LANGUAGE 
 
 Ther was noon auditour coude on him winne. 594 
 
 Who coude , etc. Though it could be proved that the 
 clause once began with who, yet in fact coude on him 
 winne is an adjective equivalent to able to winne on 
 him. Another way of describing the construction is to 
 say that one auditour is enough, and that the repetition 
 of the word or of any substitute for the word is reason- 
 ably avoided. 
 
 Of smale houndes hadde she , that she fedde , 146 
 
 Her “ having ” of little dogs she fed. There is really 
 nothing to be supplied. The sentence says all it was 
 meant to, and the writer or hearer of it never thought 
 of “ some 55 or “ a number.” 
 
 A Monk ther was, a fair for the maistrye. 165 
 
 After a fair , there is no omission of man or person or 
 one ; these were sometimes used, and not, as now, 
 nearly always. Chaucer did say : — 
 
 A knight ther vms, and that a worthy man , 43 
 
 and 
 
 I have the moste stedefast wyf, 
 
 And eek the melceste oon that bereth lyf. — E. 1552. 
 
 ADJECTIVES 
 
 The few comparatives or superlatives that might fail 
 to be recognized as such are explained in Notes or 
 
THE LANGUAGE 
 
 189 
 
 Glossary. Adjectives of more than one syllable are 
 rarely inflected: swete , daungerous. Monosyllables 
 often take e as plurals, in address, before proper names, 
 after the , this, and that , and in some other conditions : 
 a yong man , the yonge man. This distinction is not 
 observed in Modern English : a young man , the young 
 man. 
 
 Of all is expressed sometimes by oiler , alder; our 
 oiler , of us all; Mr alter, of them all; alderbest, best 
 of all. 
 
 VERBS 
 
 The following presents are alike in all verbs, and 
 one model will suffice : — 
 
 Present Indicative. Present Subjunctive. 
 
 I binde 
 thou bindest 
 he bindeth 
 we binden 
 ye binden 
 they binden 
 
 I binde 
 thou binde 
 he binde 
 we binden 
 ye binden 
 they binden 
 
 Present Infinitive. Present Participle. 
 
 binden bindinge 
 
 Eorms are sometimes shortened and, in consequence, 
 otherwise changed: seyest, seyst; lyeth, lyth; biddeth , 
 
190 
 
 THE LANGUAGE 
 
 bit; bresteth, brest ; rideth , rit; sitteth , sit ; binden , 
 binde; bindinge, binding ; seyen, seyn ; gooen, goon . 
 
 Binden is one of a class of verbs that form the past 
 singular by vowel change alone, and are hence called 
 Strong Verbs : — 
 
 Past Indicative. 
 I band 
 thou band 
 he band 
 we bounden 
 ye bounden 
 they bounden 
 
 Past Subjunctive. 
 I bounde 
 thou bounde 
 he bounde 
 we bounden 
 ye bounden 
 they bounden 
 
 All other verbs are called Weak Verbs. Such are 
 loven , I lovede; clotlien , I cladde; heren , I herde ; greten , 
 I grette ; tellen , I tolde ; seken, I soughte. The termi- 
 nations are alike in all. 
 
 Past Indicative. 
 I soughte 
 thou soughtest 
 he soughte 
 we soughten 
 ye soughten 
 they soughten 
 
 Past Subjunctive. 
 I soughte 
 thou soughte 
 he soughte 
 we soughten 
 ye soughten 
 they soughten 
 
 Forms are sometimes shortened : lovede , loved, lovde. 
 The Imperative. The plural is always eth; the 
 
THE LANGUAGE 
 
 191 
 
 singular in Strong Verbs has no termination, in Weak 
 Verbs ends in e : — 
 
 bind , bindeth grete , greteth 
 
 The plural is sometimes interchanged with the singular. 
 
 The past participle of Strong Verbs ends in n, of 
 Weak Verbs in d or t: bounden, drawen , loved , caught, 
 n is often dropped: bounde. e is sometimes added 
 when the participle is plural : boundene , caughte. y 
 is sometimes prefixed : y-bounde , y-caught. 
 
 Obscure, anomalous, and compound forms will be 
 found in the Glossary. 
 
 Chaucer’s rood indicates one rider, his riden more 
 than one rider ; our rode is neutral, indicates the pres- 
 ence at some past time of a rider, or of some riders, or 
 of all the riders, or of all riders. Rode might better 
 be called non-numeral. Chaucer had no non-numeral 
 form, and was forced to say either one or more riders, 
 even when the fact was sufficiently indicated otherwise, 
 or needed no prominence, or was inconsistent with 
 other indications. Non-numeral forms often develop 
 from numeral forms ; and those familiar with the for- 
 mer, imagine them in the latter. There is a difference 
 then between our And after rode the queen and Emily 
 and Chaucer’s And after rood the queue and Emelye. 
 
 It is usually said that some word is omitted 01 
 understood or to be supplied in the following: — 
 
192 
 
 THE LANGUAGE 
 
 A wrethe of gold , arm-greet , of huge wighte , 
 
 Upon his heed , seZ /nZ o/ stones brighte, 
 
 Of fine rubies and of diamaunts. 2147 
 
 The oral utterance of the preceding with proper 
 stresses and inflection would not suggest any such 
 lack ; was indeed can be introduced at several points, 
 but it adds nothing to what is already indicated by 
 the punctuation and connection. The tendency to 
 supply words that add nothing to the sense should be 
 resisted, unless you can prove that such words were 
 once present in an expression. 
 
 Finde , jinden , to Jlnde , to finden , for to finde , for to 
 finden, are six forms which Chaucer might have used 
 in most cases where we use either find, to find , or find- 
 ing, of finding, in finding, by finding, or that one finds , 
 
 may find, should find, and so on : — 
 
 Than longen folk to goon on pilgrimages , 
 
 And palmeres for to seken straunge strondes . 13 
 
 The holy blisful martir for to seke. 17 
 
 In hope to stonden in his lady grace. 88 
 
 . . . for him liste ride so. 102 
 
 What sholde he studie , and make himselven wood 
 Upon a book in cloistre alwey to poure. 185 
 
 Wei coude he singe and pleyen on a rote. 236 
 
 It is nat lioneste. it may nat avaunce 
 For to delen with no swich poraille. 
 
 247 
 
THE LANGUAGE 
 
 193 
 
 Ne was so worldly for to have office ; 
 
 For him was levere have at his beddes heed 
 
 Twenty bokes ... 294 
 
 And bisily gan for the soules preye. 301 
 
 But of his craft to rekene wel his tides , 401 
 
 In al this world ne was ther noon him lik , 
 
 To speke of pliisik and of surgerye 413 
 
 No wonder is a lewed man to ruste. 502 
 
 Wel loved he garleek , oynons , and eek lekes , 
 
 And for to drinken strong wyn reed as blood. 635 
 
 Y-sworn ful depe and ech of us til other , 
 
 That nevere , for to dyen in the peyne , 
 
 Til that the deeth departe shal us tweyne , 
 
 Neither of us in love to hindren other . 1135 
 
 And eek it is nat lykly , al thy lyf 
 
 To stonden in liir grace , namore shal I. 1173 
 
 And thereto he was strong and big of bones 
 
 To doon that any wight can him devise. 1425 
 
 Chaucer’s tenses are the same as ours, but he uses 
 the present for the past or for the future more freely, 
 sometimes passing from one to the other in the same 
 sentence : — 
 
 And in his armes he hem alle up liente , 
 
 And hem conforteth in ful good entente. 958 
 
 His baner he desplayeth and forth rood. 966 
 
 And sente anoon Ipolita the quene 
 ******** 
 
 And forth he rit. 974 
 
 o 
 
194 
 
 THE LANGUAGE 
 
 Few subjunctives exist in Modern English. I, thou , 
 lie , we, you, they, be; I, thou , he, were; but no other 
 form of the verb to be; thou find, he find, but no 
 other than these two forms of the verb to find, and no 
 more than these two of any other verb whatever. I 
 were and he were are the only ones even of these few 
 that most of us ever hear ; nor does any one discern 
 much difference between if I were wealthy and if I had 
 wealth, when each is followed by I would help the 
 deserving only. In Chaucer the subjunctives are nu- 
 merous. The translation into Modern English retains 
 some of the terminations, drops others where there 
 was Double Indication, and replaces others with may, 
 
 might, etc. 
 
 As it were a castel lual. 4050 
 
 Ware the sonne in his ascencioun 
 Nefinde yow nat repleet of humours hote; 
 
 And if it do, I dar wel leye a grote , 4148 
 
 If thou tomorwe wende, 4271 
 
 And though that he were worthy, he was ivys , 68 
 
 Er it were day, as was hir wone to do, 1040 
 
 Now demeth as yow liste, ye that can, 1353 
 
 ADVERBS 
 
 In order to understand Chaucer it is not necessary 
 to know either the qualities common to all adverbs, or 
 
THE LANGUAGE 
 
 195 
 
 the mark of any class of adverbs, or even to have ever 
 heard of adverbs ; and it is not desirable to be think- 
 ing about adverbs when one is reading Chaucer. A 
 reason for wishing to know whether an expression is 
 an adverb or not is to ascertain thereby the meaning 
 of the sentence. There is no test by which adverbs 
 may be discriminated on mere inspection, but often 
 only on subtle combination of slight indications, and 
 the meaning is generally reached long before the 
 process by which it is reached can be discerned or 
 described. 
 
 Some words are always adverbs : often , specially. 
 
 Some words are never adverbs : lovest, Jindest, 
 
 palmeres . 
 
 Some words are adverbs in one sentence, and not 
 adverbs in another : — 
 
 They foynen ech at other wonder longe. n 654 
 
 Ther saugh I many another wonder storie . 2073 
 
 Where no tests are discoverable, the sentence has 
 more than one meaning, and what was intended must 
 be learned from some other source. 
 
 Adverbs are formed from adjectives by adding e, 
 liche, lick , ly , ely : riglite , royalliche , pitously , softely. 
 The test of derivation or termination guides less often 
 than the test of position ; and in this respect Chaucer’s 
 English agrees with our own. Moreover, in the Notes 
 
196 
 
 THE LANGUAGE 
 
 and the Glossary, adverbs are translated by adverbs, 
 and individual peculiarities are treated as they arise. 
 
 All negation is effected by particles either alone or 
 in composition : — 
 
 In all this world ne was there noon him lyk. 412 
 There nas baillif, ne herde , ne other hine , 
 
 That he ne knew his sleighte and his covine . 604 
 
 He was n at pale as a forpined goost. 205 
 
 And he nas nat right fat , I undertake. 288 
 
 I nam but dead. 1122 
 
 Hir briglite heer was kempt , untressed al. 2289 
 
 A negative applied to a negative would in general 
 destroy the negation, and two negatives applied to the 
 same word would in general emphasize it. Negatives 
 applied to different words in a sentence direct us to 
 remove from the meaning of the sentence the meaning 
 of each of those words : No wine ne drank she rubs 
 out in the picture both the wine and the drinking of 
 it. There is neither inconsistency nor emphasis, but 
 a sort of Multiple Indication, since the removal of 
 either would have sufficed. Chaucer could say, No 
 wine drank she , or Wine ne drank she , but instances of 
 the repeated negations are found on every page. 
 
 GENEALOGY OF ENGLISH 
 
 Among the hundreds of known languages, living 
 and dead, the following and a few more are like one 
 
THE LANGUAGE 
 
 197 
 
 another and unlike all others in certain aspects, and 
 are hence called a family of languages, and, from 
 their geographical distribution, named the Indo-Euro> 
 pean : — 
 
 I. Indian (Sanskrit, Pali, Bengali, etc.). 
 
 II. Iranian (Avestan, Old Persian, etc.). 
 
 III. Armenian. 
 
 IV. Greek. 
 
 V. Italic (Latin, Oscan, Umbrian, etc. From Latin 
 come Italian, Provencal, French, Spanish, 
 Portuguese, Boumanian). 
 
 VI. Celtic (Irish, Manx, Gaelic, Welsh, Cornish, 
 Breton). 
 
 VII. Slavonic (Bussian, Bulgarian, Polish, Bohemian, 
 Servian). 
 
 VIII. Baltic (Lithuanian, Lettish, Old Prussian). 
 
 IX. Teutonic, 
 
 (A) East Teutonic (Gothic). 
 
 (JB) Scandinavian (Icelandic, Dano-FTorwegian, 
 Swedish). 
 
 ((7) West Teutonic, 
 
 (а) High Teutonic (German). 
 
 (б) Low Germanic (Old Frisian, Anglo- 
 
 Saxon or Old English, Old Frank- 
 ish, Frisian, English, Platt-deutsch. 
 Dutch, Flemish). 
 
198 
 
 THE LANGUAGE 
 
 Many an Englishman has added to his mother- 
 tongue borrowings from other languages, living and 
 dead, related or unrelated. 
 
 PARTITIONS OF ENGLISH 
 
 The fifth-century conquerors of Romanized Britain, 
 the Jutes and the Saxons as well as the Angles, spoke 
 what was called English. The term Anglo-Saxon has 
 been applied to one stage of this language, called Old 
 English below in the table from Sweet’s A New 
 English Grammar; while Old ‘English has been ap- 
 plied to a different stage, which is called Middle 
 English in the table: — 
 
 Early Old English (E. of Alfred) 700-900 
 
 Late Old English (E. of iElfric) 900-1100 
 
 Transition Old English (E. of Layamon) .... 1100-1200 
 
 Early Middle English (E. of the Ancren Riwle) . 1200-1300 
 
 Late Middle English (E. of Chaucer) 1300-1400 
 
 Transition Middle English (Caxton E.) .... 1400-1500 
 
 Early Modern English (Tudor E. ; E. of Shakspere) 1500-1650 
 Late Modern English 1650- 
 
 English, during the Middle English period, appears 
 in five dialects : Northern, East Midland, West Mid 
 land, South-western, and Kentish. Chaucer’s lan- 
 guage is mainly East Midland. There were influences, 
 independent of his, that could have made this dialect 
 the standard. It has become the standard; and 
 
THE MAN 
 
 199 
 
 Chaucer’s poems are more intelligible to-day than 
 poems written in the other dialects. 
 
 THE MAN 
 
 The poet sings to strangers of Chanticleer and Park 
 let, of Palamon and Arcite, of an imaginary band of 
 pilgrims. If Chaucer appears in the poem, he may 
 be transformed, as everything else is transformed, by 
 the imagination. A single stately line, — 
 
 “ The chambres and the stables weren wide" 28 
 
 gives the Tabard whatever dimensions we may wish. 
 The art that omits from the Prologue a description of 
 Chaucer, to introduce later the host’s bantering char- 
 acterization of him, tells in what realm we are : — 
 
 “ What man artow f" quod he; 
 
 “ Thou lokest as thou woldest finde an hare 
 For ever upon the ground 1 see thee stare. 
 
 “ Approche neer, and loke up merily. 
 
 Now war you, sirs , and let this man have place ; 
 
 He in the waast is shape as well as I; 
 
 This were a popet in an arm tenbrace 
 For any womman, smal and fair of face. 
 
 He semeth elvish by his contenaunce . 
 
 For unto no wight doth he daliaunce — B. 1894. 
 
200 
 
 THE MAN 
 
 The man appears again as the poet chooses to rep 
 resent him in : — 
 
 “ Wherfor , as I seyde , y-wis , 
 
 Jupiter consider eth this , 
 
 And also , 5eaa s£r, other thinges : 
 
 That is , that thou hast no tidinges 
 Of Loves folk , i/ they be glade , 
 
 JVe 0 / nought elles that God made; 
 
 And nought only fro fer contree 
 That ther no tiding comth to thee , 
 
 0 / thy verray neighebores , 
 
 That dwellen almost at thy dores , 
 
 T7iow herest neither that nor this; 
 
 For whan thy labour doon al is 
 And hast y-maad thy rekeninges , 
 
 In stede of reste and newe thinges 
 Thou gost hoom to thy house anoon; 
 
 And , aZso dorafr as any stoon , 
 
 TTfcow sittest at another boke, 
 
 Til fully daswed is thy loke , 
 
 Zii?es£ £Aws as ara heremite , 
 
 Although thyn abstinence is UteV 
 
 — The House of Fame . 660 
 
 Even the poor verse in which he laments his poverty 
 ought not to be taken literally, unless confirmed from 
 other sources : — 
 
 “ iVow, pur*, £fta£ to me my lives light, 
 
 And saveour , as cfouw in this worlde here, 
 
 Out of this toune help me through your might , 
 
 Sin that ye wole nat been my tresorere ; 
 
THE MAN 
 
 201 
 
 For I am shave as nye as any frere . 
 
 But yit I pray unto your curtesy e: 
 
 Beth hevy ageyn , or elles mot I dye.” 
 
 The verses of brother poets say nothing about his 
 life and only put in words the admiration they feel. 
 Here is the stanza of Hoccleve’s poem, The Gov- 
 email of Princes , that explains the origin of the 
 portrait : — 
 
 “ Although his lyf be queynt , the resemblaunce 
 Of him hath in me so fresh lyflinesse 
 That , to put other e men in remembr ounce 
 Of his persone, I have heer his lyknesse 
 Do make , to this ende , in sothfastnesse, 
 
 That they that have of him lest thought and minde , 
 By this peynt ure may ageyn him finde.” 
 
 The little that we know of the man’s doings as dis- 
 tinguished from the poet’s imaginings is derived from 
 contemporary records. These were carefully written 
 and have been dutifully preserved. Some had been 
 used, however, in binding books, and were discovered 
 as recently as 1857 by Dr. Edward A. Bond. The 
 language of these records is a much abbreviated Latin 
 or French : — 
 
 Jur divsor Hundr Com pdci, alias, scilt tmio sci Hil- 
 lar . . . coram Dno Rege apud Westm psent, quod 
 Ric Brerelay felonice depda vit Galfrm Chauser, etc. 
 
 Cuid Paltomakare Lond pro j. paltok ... lib 
 
202 
 
 THE MAN 
 
 Galfr. Chaucer de cons dono dne ib, eiisd die et ao 
 IIII.s. 
 
 From such sources conclusions have been drawn 
 which are here set down in part without any attempt 
 to assign even vaguely the degree of their probability. 
 
 The father of Geoffrey was John Chaucer, citizen 
 and vintner of London. Full fifteen years after Geof- 
 frey’s birth, an accountant in the household of Eliza- 
 beth de Burgh, Countess of Ulster and wife of Lionel, 
 third son of Edward III, records that at London in 
 1358 there was furnished to Galfridus Chaucer a pal- 
 tock, or short cloak, a pair of red and black breeches, 
 and a pair of shoes, the whole costing seven shillings 
 (one hundred, present value) ; and at Hatfield, York- 
 shire, in December, 1357, there was paid to Galfridus 
 Chaucer two shillings and sixpence for necessaries at 
 Christmas. 
 
 In 1359, according to testimony which Chaucer him- 
 self gave in 1386, he was taken prisoner near Betters 
 in France. In 1360 he was ransomed, the king him- 
 self contributing the large sum of two hundred and 
 forty pounds present value. 
 
 In 1367 Edward III granted him an annual pension 
 for life of twenty marks (two hundred pounds present 
 value), in consideration of his past and future ser- 
 vices. In the document he was styled dilectus valettus 
 noster. Noster dilectus (Our esteemed) implies appreci- 
 
THE MAN 
 
 203 
 
 ation. Valettus is valet, or yeoman of the king’s bed- 
 chamber. After 1372 he is called in the records 
 armiger or scutifer (squire). The duties of these 
 attendants are thus enumerated in Edward IY’s 
 Household Book : — 
 
 DE VALECTIS CAMERE REGIS 
 
 “ Yeomen of Chambre iiij, to make beddis, to beare 
 or hold torches, to sett boardis, to apparell all cham- 
 bers, and such othir services as the Chamberlaine, or 
 Vshers of Chambre, comaunde or assigne; to attend 
 the chambre ; to watche the King by course ; to goe in 
 messages, &c. 
 
 “ Squires of Houshold xl : or moe if it please the 
 Kinge, by the aduise of his highe Counsell; to be 
 chosen men of their possession, worship, and wisdome ; 
 Also to be of sundrie shires, by whome it may be 
 knowne the disposition of the Countries : And of these, 
 to be continually in .this court, twenty squires atten- 
 dantes on the Kinges person, in ryding and goeing at 
 all times ; And to helpe serve his table from the Sur- 
 ueying board, and from other places, as the Assewer 
 will assigne: . . . These Esquires of housold of old be 
 accustomed, winter and summer, in afternoones and in 
 eueninges, to drawe to Lordes Chambres within Court, 
 there to keep honest company after there Cunninge, in 
 talking of Cronicles of Kinges, and of others Pollicies, 
 
204 
 
 THE MAH 
 
 or in pipeing or in harpeing, songinges, or other actes 
 marcealls, to helpe to occupie the Court, and accom- 
 panie estraingers, till the time require of departing.” 
 
 It is recorded that in 1374 Philippa Chaucer re- 
 ceived part of her pension by the hands of Geoffrey 
 her husband. A pension of ten marks yearly had been 
 granted to a Philippa Chaucer in 1366, then in the 
 service of the queen. John of Gaunt gave a pension 
 of ten pounds to Philippa Chaucer in 1372; and in 
 1374 he gave a pension of ten pounds to Chaucer and 
 his wife for good services rendered by them to the 
 said Duke, his Consort, and his mother the Queen. 
 Were there two Philippas, and what was the date of 
 Chaucer’s marriage, and what was the maiden name 
 of his wife, are problems suggested by these and 
 other records ; but the fact established is that Chaucer 
 was already married in 1374. 
 
 . Entries now and then of money borrowed, of letters 
 of protection against creditors while abroad, of pen- 
 sions paid to Chaucer directly, or through the hands 
 of another, serve to show that Chaucer was going to 
 and fro between France and England, sometimes for 
 the war, sometimes on the King’s service. 
 
 For about eleven months from December, 1372, 
 Chaucer was journeying as far as Genoa and Flor- 
 ence. He was joined in a commission with two citi- 
 
THE MAN 
 
 205 • 
 
 zens of Genoa, to treat with that republic for the choice 
 of some port in England where its merchants might 
 settle and trade. 
 
 By a writ dated at Windsor on the 23d of April, St. 
 George’s Bay, 1374, a pitcher of wine daily was granted 
 to him for life, to be received in the port of London 
 from the hands of the King’s butler. Writs were 
 usually issued in the King’s name, and payment in 
 kind long survived the introduction of money. A 
 century later Edward IY’s Household Book says of 
 the Squires of the Household : “ Every each of them 
 taketh for his Liueery at night dimidium gallon ale ; 
 And for winter season, each of them taketh two can- 
 dles parris, one faggott or elles dimidium tallwood; 
 and when any of them is present in Court, him is al- 
 lowed for daily wagis in the Cheekerroolle, seauen pence 
 halfe penny, and cloathing winter and sommer, or elles 
 fortie shillinges.” In lieu of his pitcher of wine Chaucer 
 himself, in 1377, received money ; which he exchanged 
 the year following for a pension of twenty marks. 
 
 It was in this same year, 1374, that he leased from 
 the Corporation of London the dwelling-house over the 
 gate of Aldgate ; was appointed Comptroller of the Cus- 
 toms and Subsidy of Wools, Skins, and Tanned Hides 
 in the Port of London, being required, like his predeces- 
 sors, to write the rolls of his office with his own hand, 
 and to be continually present. 
 
206 
 
 THE MAN 
 
 In 1375 he was twice appointed guardian. From 
 one of these wardships, which, however, was of short 
 duration, he subsequently received one hundred and 
 four pounds. 
 
 In 1376 the King granted to Chaucer, as Comptroller 
 of the Customs, the price of some wool that had been 
 forfeited for failure to pay the duty. Toward the end 
 of the same year Sir John Burley was paid some thir- 
 teen pounds for performing some secret service, and 
 Chaucer, who is described as being in Burley’s comi- 
 tiva, or retinue, was paid about half as much. 
 
 In February, 1377, Chaucer was associated with Sir 
 Thomas Percy (afterward Earl of Worcester) in a se- 
 cret mission to Flanders. Ten pounds were advanced 
 to Chaucer for expenses, less than one-third of the 
 amount advanced to Sir Thomas Percy. On the 11th 
 of April he received with his own hands twenty pounds 
 at the exchequer, which the King had given him as a 
 reward for divers journeys he had made in his service 
 abroad. On the twentieth of the same month letters 
 of protection, as was usual, were issued to him, to ter- 
 minate on the 1st of August ensuing. These entries 
 alone may not prove that Chaucer was concerned in 
 the embassies that went abroad in this year to treat of 
 peace or of the marriage of the Prince of Wales ; but 
 they prove that he was still one of the King’s esquires, 
 and that he enjoyed the confidence and favour of King 
 
THE MAN 
 
 207 
 
 Edward III to the last. The King died in June of 
 this year. 
 
 But Chaucer continued in favour with the advisers 
 of the boy-king. In 1378 he had some share in an 
 embassy to negotiate the King’s marriage with a 
 daughter of Charles Y of France. It is true his 
 name does not appear with those of the ambassadors, 
 but he was afterward paid his expenses for going to 
 France about this time with the same object. In the 
 spring of this year Chaucer went in the retinue of Sir 
 Edward Berkeley on a mission to Lombardy to treat 
 with Bernabo Visconti, Lord of Milan, and the cele- 
 brated Sir John Hawkwood, on some military matter, 
 the nature of which is not indicated. Here these 
 records of payment of wages and pensions and ex- 
 penses, of appointments to serve in some undefined 
 capacity for some unexplained purpose, — records that 
 differ from thousands of others only in containing the 
 name of Chaucer, and serve rather to check exuberant 
 speculation than to distinguish Chaucer from the crowd, 
 — seem about to disclose something more ; but the 
 name of John Gower brings with it no further in- 
 formation than that he is appointed to be an agent of 
 Chaucer during his intended absence of one year. 
 
 So nothing is added to 
 
 “ 0 moral Gower , this book I directe 
 To thee.” — Chaucer’s Troilus and Creseyde 
 
208 
 
 THE MAH 
 
 and 
 
 “ Grete wel Chaucer when ye mete 
 
 As my disciple and my poete. ,f — Gower’s Confessio Amantis 
 
 that may explain the relation between the two men. 
 Now Gower was not only a poet of three literatures, 
 but a man of substance, a Kentish man who dwelt in 
 Southwark, who told the same stories as Chaucer, 
 while they both borrowed from the same sources, if 
 not from each other; and yet the three instances just 
 pointed out are the only direct evidence of any connec- 
 tion between them. 
 
 To Chaucer’s previous appointment was added in 
 1382 that of Comptroller of the Petty Customs of 
 the Port of London, with leave to exercise his office 
 by deputy. At the end of 1384 he was granted a 
 month’s leave of absence, and in the February follow- 
 ing the privilege of employing a deputy in his old 
 comptrollership. 
 
 Through October and November, 1386, he sat in the 
 Parliament at Westminster as one of the Knights of 
 the Shire for Kent. It was not the least among the 
 commendations of the ‘ Frankeleyn ’ that he had been 
 Knight of the Shire. It was at this time that Chaucer 
 gave evidence in behalf of Sir Kichard Scrope against 
 Sir Kobert Grosvenor’s claim to the arms “ Azure, a 
 bend Or.” Here he speaks for himself, does not limit 
 
THE MAN 
 
 209 
 
 himself to answering questions, but tells a story which 
 would be effective with a modern jury : — 
 
 “ He said that he was once in Friday Street in Lon- 
 don, and as he was walking in the street, he saw hang- 
 ing a new sign made of the said arms, and he asked 
 what inn that was that had hung out these arms of 
 Scrope? and one answered him and said, No, Sir, they 
 are not hung out for the arms of Scrope, nor painted 
 there for those arms, but they are painted and put 
 there by a knight of the county of Chester, whom men 
 call Sir Eobert Grosvenor; and that was the first time 
 he had ever heard speak of Sir Eobert Grosvenor, or 
 of his ancestors, or of any other bearing the name of 
 Grosvenor.” 
 
 But great changes were preparing in England ; Chau- 
 cer’s circumstances were changing too. The connection 
 between the two might be divined by a man of great 
 learning and broad experience, but could never be ver- 
 ified by any one. In October, 1386, his house in Aid- 
 gate was let to another tenant, and in December of 
 that year his two offices were held by Adam Yerdeley 
 and Henry Gisors. John of Gaunt had been super- 
 seded by the Duke of Gloucester in the administration 
 of the government, and a commission had been issued 
 for inquiring into the state of the subsidies and cus- 
 toms. Now John of Gaunt had been Chaucer’s patron, 
 and had granted a pension to Chaucer’s wife. 
 
 p 
 
210 
 
 THE MAN 
 
 About this time Chaucer lost his wife. Her pension 
 of course ceased with death; and in May, 1388, he 
 made an assignment of his own pensions. In 1389 
 Richard II restored the Lancastrian party to favour. 
 Soon afterward Chaucer was appointed Clerk of the 
 King’s Works at the Palace of Westminster, the 
 Tower of London, several royal manors and lodges, 
 and at the Mews for the King’s Falcons at Charing 
 Cross. For this he received thirty shillings a day, 
 present value. In the following year other duties 
 were assigned him : the repair of the roadways along 
 the Thames; the repair of St. George’s Chapel, Wind- 
 sor; putting up scaffolds in Smithfield for the King 
 and Queen to see the jousts in May ; the care, as 
 forester, of North Petherton Park in Somersetshire, — 
 multifarious duties enough, not unattended with risks 
 of a certain sort ; for Chaucer was robbed of the King’s 
 money twice in one day at different places by mem- 
 bers of the same gang of highwaymen. Chaucer was 
 indemnified, and the member of the gang who appears 
 to have told the truth as informer against his com- 
 rades was hanged because he was defeated when chal- 
 lenged to make his words good by battle. Others 
 were hanged later. 
 
 By the summer of 1391 he had lost both clerkships 
 and must have been in straitened circumstances, to 
 judge by the fact that even after he had been granted 
 
THE MAN 
 
 211 
 
 by King Richard in 1394 a pension of twenty pounds, 
 he received petty advances from the government and 
 other sources on account of his pension. In 1398 
 King Richard granted him letters of protection against 
 enemies suing him, and a few months later a tun of 
 wine yearly for life. 
 
 On the 30th of September, 1399, Richard was de- 
 posed. Henry IV, the son of Chaucer’s old patron, 
 within four days after he came to the throne, doubled 
 Chaucer’s pension. On Christmas Eve, 1399, he ob- 
 tained a lease of a tenement in the garden of St. 
 Mary’s Chapel, Westminster, for fifty-three years, or 
 life. It is probably here that he died, on the 25th of 
 October, 1400. He was buried in Westminster Abbey, 
 in St. Benet’s Chapel. The present tombstone of gray 
 marble was erected by Nicholas Brigham in 1556. 
 
 Why do we want to know more about the Man ? 
 Have we not the words of the Poet ? But words do 
 not interpret themselves, do not carry about with 
 themselves their own significations. Some read with 
 delight, while they attach to the sentences just such 
 meanings as they please; may charm us, too, with 
 their divinations. We may even admire the Chaucer 
 they have made. But for others the question remains, 
 what did Chaucer himself mean, how did Chaucer 
 himself feel, what experiences and memories were 
 his when he wrote : — 
 
212 
 
 THE POET 
 
 “ In Southwerk at the Tabard as I lay 
 Bedy to wenden on my pilgrimage.” 21 
 
 “ In Borne she hadde been and at Boloigne , 
 
 In Galice at Seint Jame and at Coloigne ” 466 
 
 “Of Northfolk was this Beve of which I telle , 
 
 Biside a toun men clepen Baldeswelle 620 
 
 What knowledge had Chancer of these places that 
 made them to him more than mere names? Was 
 there no one that told of meeting him, hearing him, 
 seeing him with friends sharing in some festivity ? 
 no one that knew and told of the death of the prose 
 Chaucer that had walked beside the verse Chaucer? 
 
 “ Infinite been the sorwes and the teres 
 Of olde folk, and folk of tendre yeres , 
 
 In al the toun for deeth of this Theban. 
 
 For him ther wepeth bothe child and man.” 2830 
 
 THE POET 
 
 Poetry is a compound into which many elements 
 enter: emotions of all kinds and degrees; ideas gath- 
 ered and grouped and displayed by emotions ; and 
 vocal sounds endowed with attributes that express 
 these emotions and ideas, especially with the supreme 
 attribute of verse. These elements vary from poem 
 to poem, severally rising and sinking in prominence, 
 
THE POET 
 
 213 
 
 from “ poems without words ” to “ the perfect poetry 
 of meaningless words.” Many would add, as a fourth 
 element, some visible notation of the voices or ideas or 
 emotions. Of the poems of the past it is only this 
 last element that remains ; what was once of minor 
 importance has become very important as our sole 
 means of recovering all the rest. Philologists have 
 enabled those who are no philologists to listen to a 
 poem of Chaucer’s if they will, and to revive the 
 thoughts and feelings that were Chaucer’s if they can. 
 
 Many of Chaucer’s experiences resemble ours, and 
 their revival requires no effort ; there are indeed such 
 among them as we would rather expel from our own 
 minds than seek in his. But effort is required to com- 
 prehend the grand, even though false, ideas which 
 Chaucer held in common with his contemporaries ; 
 and for all our endeavour we may never recall his 
 fairest moments, those which were peculiarly his own. 
 
 The first step is to rid ourselves of the conceit of 
 the twentieth century, which springs from having ex- 
 periences Chaucer and his fellows could not have. 
 Every one now has opportunities of knowing, feeling, 
 acting in ways impossible for men of a past long sub- 
 sequent to that of Chaucer. Deprived of all these, 
 one would feel poor indeed ; and yet how rich he re- 
 mains, This wealth of his consists not merely in his 
 own experiences of his own times, which we see re- ' 
 
214 
 
 THE POET 
 
 fleeted in his writings ; not merely in his share of 
 those vast structures of fancy, of faith, and of knowl- 
 edge which an after-time had cast as rubbish to the 
 void ; but in sentiments and perceptions which we 
 have lost, but may recover, may be prompted to recover 
 by Chaucer himself. 
 
 Chaucer died a century before America was dis- 
 covered. The Eastern Hemisphere, as we term it, 
 stood on what was regarded as the top of the motion- 
 less globe of the Earth. On maps, which Chaucer 
 could have seen, the land was represented in a nearly 
 circular form, with Jerusalem at the centre. Ho 
 materials existed for anything like a science of geog- 
 raphy. It is now condensed in a compend for chil- 
 dren to read about in school. Ho foundation for such 
 a home of the mind had been laid by geologists, ex- 
 plorers of America and Australia. Ho poet could then 
 hear 
 
 “ The moanings of the homeless sea, 
 
 The sound of streams that, swift or slow, 
 
 Draw down JEonian hills, and sow 
 The dust of continents to be.” 
 
 To the geographer there appear in that part of the 
 earth’s surface known to Chaucer numberless counties, 
 duchies, principalities, kingdoms, or whatever else they 
 might be named. These have since coalesced to great 
 states, but then they were struggling with one another, 
 
THE POET 
 
 215 
 
 entering now into this combination, now into that, 
 swearing allegiance to one overlord to-day and to 
 another on the morrow. English power was limited 
 to a portion of the British Isles and a few contested 
 provinces in France. A Londoner could not go in any 
 direction far from home without encountering enemies, 
 or those who had just been or might soon be enemies. 
 While still on English soil he would pass amid those 
 to whom his speech and ways would be strange. 
 
 Chaucer’s knowledge of the earth and of what was 
 on it was gained from his own journeyings, from fre- 
 quent meetings with other wayfarers, and from the 
 writings of travellers. He had been in different parts 
 of England, in the Low Countries, in France, and in 
 Italy. He had met many, and “so had he spoken 
 with hem everichon, that he was of hir felaweshipe 
 anon.” It was a time of goings to and fro, and it was 
 not only the “good Wyf of biside Bathe” that “thryes 
 hadde been at Jerusalem,” and “coude muche of wan- 
 dering by the weye.” He had read such books as that 
 encyclopaedic work, the “ Speculum Majus ” of Vincent 
 of Beauvais, of which Professor Lounsbury gives an 
 entertaining account. 
 
 But what has geography to do with poetry ? No 
 poet would shock the geographic sense, for there is a 
 geographic sense, scorned though it may be by those 
 who have none. There are, too, in the range of its 
 
216 
 
 THE POET 
 
 knowledge places about which it loves to linger. Their 
 very names, besides, are fragments of poems, and crave 
 restitution to verse. You may not care to look beyond 
 the name. You may doubt whether Milton had a very 
 distinct vision of : — 
 
 “ Mombaza and Quiloa and Melind 
 And Sofala (thought Ophir ), to the realm 
 Of Congo and Angola farthest south , 
 
 And thence from Niger flood to Atlas mount , 
 
 The kingdoms of Almansor , Fez and Sus , 
 
 Morocco and Algiers and Tremisen." 
 
 You may know that Pope cared little for sites that 
 were dear to some Greek singer : — 
 
 “ Onchestus , Neptune's celebrated groves , 
 
 Copce and Thisbe , famed for silver doves • 
 
 For flocks Erythrce , Glissa for the vine ; 
 
 Platea green , and Nysa the divine. 
 
 And they ivhom Thebe's well-built walls enclose , 
 
 Where Myde , Eutresis, Corone rose ; 
 
 And Arne rich , with purple harvests crowned ; 
 
 And Anthedon Bceotia's utmost bound." 
 
 We do not find in Chaucer sound without sense, and 
 of all the places outside the regions of fancy and his- 
 tory that he mentions, he could have had a clear com 
 ception, — of South werk, Caunterbury, Baldeswelle, 
 Dertemouthe, and even of the places that some knight 
 returning from the wars might describe ; for 
 
THE POET 
 
 217 
 
 In Gernade at the sege eke hadde he be 
 Of Algezir , and riden in Belmarye. 
 
 At Lyeigs was he, and at Satalye , 
 
 Whan they were wonne. 59 
 
 And so we gain somehow the conviction that these 
 names were not meaningless to him, however faint 
 may be the impression which they make on our mind. 
 His geography was not a science, for science is not 
 made of ignorances or misconceptions, or even of 
 knowledges that stand apart. It was not a book of 
 places and names for which he cared nothing. It was 
 the poet’s selection of what interested him, and he 
 supposed would interest others. But what is poetry 
 to one need not be poetry to another, and what was 
 poetry once may have ceased to be poetry, though it 
 still bears the name, — ceased, that is, for us, — or 
 not yet begun to be. Students who fancied them- 
 selves indifferent to poetry have shown eagerness 
 about our poet’s geography. This is one mystery of 
 the poet’s craft. 
 
 It was a century and a half after the death of 
 Chaucer that the thoughts of Copernicus about the 
 revolution of the heavenly bodies were made known 
 to the world. The colours and lights of the skies, their 
 blue expanses and manifold centres of brightness and 
 warmth, are nearer to some of us than ever they were 
 before ; we may think of them as wrapped about us, 
 
218 
 
 THE POET 
 
 or of ourselves as immersed in them, or not of our- 
 selves at all, but of them only ; and this we can do, 
 because we are able to refrain, some of us, from im- 
 agining machineries or agencies, spheres or spirits, 
 associated somehow with the sights we feel. This 
 Chaucer could not do, and Copernicus could not do, 
 but we can understand that Chaucer put one interpre- 
 tation on what his eyes beheld, and Copernicus put 
 another on what his eyes beheld ; and yet what the eyes 
 of both could see was probably as restricted as our own 
 vision. Chaucer’s deepest, firmest thought of the stars, 
 the fixed or the wandering (and for him the sun and 
 moon are among the wandering stars, or planets), it 
 may be reserved for others to discover. The “ good 
 man of religioun,” the “ clerk that unto logik hadde 
 longe y-go,” the “ verray parfit, gentil knight ” might 
 hear Chaucer discourse of these matters as they strolled 
 by themselves over Kentish downs, while Keve and 
 Millere, Pardoner and Somnour, were otherwise occu- 
 pied. Perhaps no conclusions seemed to him so good 
 that better might not lurk behind. He was a poet 
 with an imagination, not a scientist with a theory oi 
 a philosopher with a system. What was the Sun tc 
 Chaucer ? and could Saturn disturb his mind by being 
 in this or that part of the zodiac ? Of certain rules of 
 astrology he says: “Natheles, thise ben observaunces 
 of judicial matiere and rites of payens, in which my 
 
THE POET 
 
 219 
 
 spirit ne hath no feith.” But the age was pervaded 
 by the belief that the astrologer knew just what was 
 portended by each of the numerous configurations of 
 the heavens; and it may well be that in rejecting this 
 belief he still retained a sense of the reality of the 
 unknown influence. At all events, he knows the doc- 
 trines of the astrologers, and often speaks their speech 
 if he does not think their thought. 
 
 It is certain that Chaucer knew his universe, if not 
 for astrological reasons, if not for the mere delight of 
 knowing, yet for the purely practical purpose of being 
 able to tell the time of day and the progress of the 
 year. It is not the poet’s perception of new aspects of 
 things, it is not the versifier’s need of an available stock 
 of phrases that prompts him to say that “ the yonge 
 sonne had in the Bam his halfe cours y-ronne,” or that 
 “ the sonne is clomben up on hevene Fourty degrees and 
 oon.” This framework of the world was ever present 
 to his consciousness. He could point at any instant to 
 the place in which a planet was, as well when it was 
 below the horizon as when it was above it, and tell 
 what stars were around it as well in the daytime as 
 in the night-time. If we should be deprived of 
 what we know of the additions to astronomy since 
 Chaucer died, would as much remain in our minds as 
 Chaucer had? Chaucer not only saw the heavens 
 with his eyes, but drew “ conclusions ” by the astro- 
 
220 
 
 THE POET 
 
 labe, and wrote a book to teach “ litel Lewis,” his son, by 
 means of u so noble an instrument,” “ to knowe every 
 time of the day by light of the sonne, and every time 
 of the night by the st.arres fixe, and eke to knowe by 
 night or by day the degree of any signe that assendeth 
 on the Est Orisonte, which that is cleped communly 
 the Assendent, or elles Oruscupum,” and many more 
 things besides. 
 
 The visible universe, that is to say, the cloudless 
 sky that he might see by night or by day, would have 
 sufficed for all his purposes. He could not be aware 
 himself how little of what he had derived from the 
 past of speculation about the stars was necessary for 
 him. Destroy all telescopes and microscopes, all 
 field-glasses and opera-glasses, and banish from our 
 minds all that they have helped us to learn ; do away 
 with spectacles, which indeed were slowly coming 
 into use in Chaucer’s century ; make glass itself a 
 rarity and a luxury ; and we have left a Chaucer who 
 knew his heavens, who could shut his eyes and still 
 behold the starry sphere as it whirled above and be- 
 low him while he stood on the top of the steady earth 
 there in London of England. 
 
 Adequate though this would have been to all the 
 uses of life — this vision or conception or imagination, 
 or whatever else it has been called, Chaucer was no 
 more capable than others of restricting himself to it. 
 
THE POET 
 
 221 
 
 The realm of space must not be left void. It had not 
 been left void ; but the imaginings of science so called 
 had taught Chaucer that the planets he saw were but 
 symbols of beings whose shape and nature were vari- 
 ously described, but which moved round the earth at 
 different distances, the moon being the nearest and 
 Saturn the remotest of the seven planets. But imagi- 
 nation did not stop here: it contrived mechanisms 
 and powers for moving these and controlling them ; 
 concentric crystalline shells, in each of which a planet 
 was set, enveloped in yet another shell in which the 
 stars were embedded, while around them all was the 
 primum mobile , the first to be moved by the power on 
 which all things defended; or great wheels, each of 
 which bore round a jjla net fixed to a point on its rim, 
 or else carried a smaller wheel with the planet at- 
 tached to the rim of the latter. Now what puzzles us 
 in Chaucer’s mind, as well as in the minds of those 
 who taught him, is to know precisely how he regards 
 all this machinery, whether it is as real to him as rock 
 and trees and stream, or a mere image with no reality 
 besides, a help, perhaps, to the thinking out of where 
 a planet had been or was to be. 
 
 Is it strange that, when their planets were so differ- 
 ent from ours, they supposed them to have the attri- 
 bute which can hardly be ascribed to our planets, of 
 foreshowing by their natures and positions the des- 
 
222 
 
 THE POET 
 
 tinies of men ? Is it not strange that without knowing 
 or having means of knowing a universe different from 
 that of his contemporaries, he should, so early, have re- 
 jected beliefs that are still held by thousands in civil- 
 ized lands ? They know little of Chaucer as a poet 
 even who have not tried to understand this part of his 
 mind, and come to feel something of the love and 
 wonder with which “ litel Lewis ” must have gazed up 
 at him. 
 
 We may ask as we seek to explore the mind of 
 Chaucer, what were his notions of stone and earth, of 
 shrub and tree, of fish and fowl and beast. Not so 
 unlike our own notions, perhaps, as our great systems, 
 our mineralogy, botany, zoology, persuade us to be- 
 lieve. He had no occasion to be better instructed in 
 these matters than the persons among whom he lived, 
 to whom his poems were addressed, whose applause 
 and favour he desired. Hardly more than a hundred 
 names of plants and animals are found in all his 
 works, mostly of common herbs and beasts. The 
 body of a lion with the tail of a fish, the feathers of a 
 bird, and a human head, that had its abode in a desert 
 of Asia, and happened at the same time to be the em- 
 blem of magnanimity, if it were not of turpitude, — 
 with these productions of feeble imagination Chaucer 
 could not help being familiar; they abounded in the 
 literature of his time. Any puddle can furnish stranger 
 
THE POET 
 
 223 
 
 forms of life, which only need enlarging to become 
 terrible. Every meadow is full of shapes of beauty 
 and loveliness that no description contains. These 
 things he had seen and remembered; but he seems 
 sceptical and indifferent in many matters that he 
 could not test personally. Memories and emotions, 
 however, are not truths ; and, in spite of the interval 
 of time, the scientific student of natural objects finds 
 less difference between the mind of Chaucer and the 
 mind of Wordsworth than the latter’s declared delight 
 in nature makes us assume. 
 
 With what were deemed sciences at the time, the 
 sciences of God, of heaven and hell, of the origin 
 and destiny of the world, of the soul’s choices in 
 their limitations and consequences, he had a layman’s 
 acquaintance ; at one time manifesting the incredulity 
 of ignorance : — 
 
 His spirit chaunged hous , and wente ther 
 
 As I cam nevere ; 1 can nat tellen wher. 2810 
 
 at another time gratifying himself and the audience 
 of his day with disquisitions on Providence and Free 
 Will, that bid the story wait meantime. There was 
 not even among the readers of the Waverley Novels 
 that dread of loitering by the way, of roaming far 
 afield, that haunts our specialists in style and art; 
 that repugnance to the irrelevant, the inconsequent. 
 
224 
 
 THE POET 
 
 which pervades a generation that models its play on 
 its work, and makes “ ernest of game,” regulating its 
 very sports by elaborate codes. 
 
 It is hard to fathom the mind of our poet, although 
 it was no Chaucer who wrote : — 
 
 Vex not thou the poet’s mind 
 With thy shallow wit ; 
 
 Yex not thou the poet’s mind, 
 
 For thou canst not fathom it. 
 
 The depths and shallows of Chaucer’s mind have 
 been sounded, and much has been found therein which 
 does not concern us at present. The plots of his sto- 
 ries, the incidents, the characters, the structure and 
 arrangement, have been traced to their sources. He 
 has been proved to be indebted to others even for his 
 errors. Quaint misrepresentations of history and chro- 
 nology — a Trojan dame that reads a Latin poem, a 
 Grecian hero presiding at a mediaeval tournament — 
 were all he could get from the books and minds around 
 him. After all, the age pleased itself and knew what 
 it was about better, perhaps, than we suppose, and 
 listened to poem and sermon without thinking “ How 
 easily I could prove that mistaken if I only had my 
 ‘ Dictionary of Dates.’” Yes, there were depths in 
 Chaucer’s mind, the abodes of mythologies, romances, 
 religions, fairy tales, histories, tap-room stories ; not a 
 fading trifle of them all but suffered a soul change into 
 
THE POET 
 
 225 
 
 something English and Chaucerian. Glorious, enviable 
 depths there were, too, of ignorance, — of unfeigned, 
 modest ignorance. He could say of the Astrolabe, 
 “Truste wel that alle the conclusions that han been 
 founde, or elles possibly might han been founde in it, 
 ben unknowe perfitly to any mortal man in this region 
 as I suppose.” And he represents himself as saying : — 
 
 4 Hosted quod I, 4 ne beth nat ivel apayl , 
 
 For other tale certes can I noon 
 
 But of a rime Ilerned longe agoon.' — B. 1899. 
 
 Of course, any profession may be called merely 
 artistic or false; and where novelty and originality 
 are no merit, whether in poems or furniture, there is 
 no modesty in disclaiming them. Chaucer might like 
 to be regarded as intimating to posterity the hopeless- 
 ness of his love or the shrewishness of his wife, but 
 the poet of the men of the fourteenth century would 
 hardly relish the loud praises of his knowledge that 
 contradicted his conviction of his own deep ignorance. 
 
 L Frend , what is thy name? 
 
 Artow come hider to han fame ?' 
 
 4 Fay, for-sothe, frend ! ’ quod I; 
 
 4 1 cam nought hider , graunt mercy ! 
 
 For no swich cause , by my heed ! 
 
 Suffiseth me, as I were deed, 
 
 That no wight have my name in honde. 
 
 I woot myself best how I stonde ; 
 
 Q 
 
226 
 
 THE POET 
 
 For what I drye or what I thinke , 
 
 I wol myselven al hit drinke , 
 
 Certeyn , for the more part , 
 
 -4s ferforth as I can myn art.' 
 
 — The House of Fame. 1882 
 
 Chaucer’s Englishmen required “som mirthe or som 
 doctrine.” They had to reform the Church from within 
 the Church, to protect the realm from invasion by car- 
 rying the war into the enemy’s country, to check pes- 
 tilence after pestilence, to quarrel toward a settlement 
 of the conflicting claims of native and foreigner, of 
 employer and employed, and, while only half aware, to 
 make over their minds, their taste, and their language. 
 Chaucer had some part in all these things, but particu- 
 larly in the last. His way triumphed for the time, 
 perhaps for all time. An earnest man could say : — 
 
 I can nat geste — rum , ram , ruf — by lettre , 
 
 Ne, God wot, rym holde I but litel bettre. I. 44 
 
 How many felt a difference or had a preference 
 between : — - 
 
 Of his stature he was of evene lengthe , 
 
 And wonderly deliver e and of greet strengthe. 84 
 
 ***** **** 
 Embrouded was he, as it were a mede , 
 
 Al ful of freshe floures, white and rede. 90 
 
 Short was his goune, with sieves long and wide , 
 
 Wei coude he sitte on hors, and faire ride . 94 
 
THE POET 
 
 227 
 
 Sir Thopas wex a doughty swayn , 
 
 Whyt was his face as payndemayn , 
 
 His lippes rede as rose ; 
 
 His rode is lyk scarlet in grayn , 
 
 And I yow telle in good certayn , 
 
 He hadde a semely nose . B. 1919 
 
 Of Chaucer’s contemporaries on English ground there 
 were those who spoke in this wise : — 
 
 Perle plesaunte to princes paye, 
 
 To clanly clos in golde so clere, 
 
 Oute of orient I hardily saye 
 Ne proved I never her precios pere , — 
 
 So rounde , so reken in uche araye , 
 
 So smal , so smothe hir sides were , — 
 
 Queresoever I jugged gemmes gaye , 
 
 I sette hir sengely in singlure ; 
 
 Allas! I leste hir in on erbere; 
 
 Thurgh gresse to grounde hit fro me yot; 
 
 I dewine for-dolkked of lufdaungere, 
 
 Of that privy perle withouten spot . — The Pearl, 
 
 Pearl 1 fair enow for princes ’ pleasance , 
 
 So deftly set in gold so pure , — 
 
 From orient lands , I durst avouch , 
 
 Ne'er saw I a gem its peer , — 
 
 So round , so comely-shaped withal , 
 
 So small , with sides so smooth , — 
 
 TFfterever I judged of radiant gems , 
 
 / placed my pearl supreme. 
 
228 
 
 THE POET 
 
 I lost it — in an arbour — alas t 
 It passed from me through grass to earth. 
 
 I pine , despoiled of love's dominion , — 
 
 Of mine own , my spotless pearl. 
 
 — Gollancz's Translation . 
 
 .Really the range of the language in which our poet 
 spoke or sang was very limited indeed. Even within 
 that range, among lawyers, churchmen, courtiers, 
 scholars, you would hear Latin or Anglo-Erench, or 
 French of some kind from over-sea. Chaucer himself 
 saw his English displace French in the teaching of 
 children and the guidance of clients in courts of jus- 
 tice, but teachers and lawyers by themselves went on 
 using Latin or French as before. 
 
 But the language, the life of the nation, the books 
 of- science and history and romance, the sights of earth 
 and sky, were common to many; what did Chaucer 
 make of all these ? The result is all that concerns us 
 here, as we read the few verses that this book contains 
 with some consciousness of the poet behind the poem. 
 With the names of the earlier works one can familiar- 
 ize himself elsewhere. He must seek elsewhere, 
 too, the accounts of their contents and origin, of the 
 times and occasions of their production, — interesting 
 and even necessary reading for those who cannot read 
 the works themselves. He will learn there how 
 Chaucer taught himself by practice the craft of the 
 
THE POET 
 
 229 
 
 poet. He will hear of his French period, his Italian 
 period, of the long apprenticeship, the years of jour- 
 ney-work that made the master. He will find that a 
 French poet hailed him as 
 
 Grant translateur, noble Geffroy Chancier. 
 
 He will read what Lydgate wrote of him : — 
 
 This sayd poete, my maister, in his dayes 
 Made and composed fill many a fresh ditee 9 
 Complaintes , balades, roundels , virelayes , 
 
 Ful delectable to heren and to see : 
 
 For which men sliulde , of right and equitee , 
 
 Sith he of English in making was the beste, 
 
 Praye unto God to yeve his soule reste. 
 
 And as he goes on in his inquiries, he will hardly 
 fail to read what Tyrwhitt wrote a century and a 
 quarter ago: “The general plan of the Canterbury 
 Tales may be learned in a great measure from the 
 Prologue. . . . The characters of the Pilgrims are as 
 various as, at that time, could be found in the several 
 departments of middle life ; that is in fact, as various 
 as could, with any probability, be brought together so 
 as to form one company, — the highest and the lowest 
 ranks of society being necessarily excluded. It ap- 
 pears further that the design of Chaucer was not 
 barely to recite the tales told by the pilgrims, but also 
 to describe their journey, and all the remnant of their 
 
230 
 
 THE POET 
 
 pilgrimage, including probably their adventures at 
 Canterbury as well as on the road. If we add that 
 the Tales, besides being nicely adapted to the charac- 
 ters of their respective relaters, were intended to be 
 connected together by suitable introductions and in- 
 terspersed with diverting episodes, and that the 
 greatest part of them was to have been executed in 
 verse, we shall have a tolerable idea of the extent and 
 difficulty of the whole undertaking ; and, admiring as 
 we must the vigour of that genius, which in an advanced 
 age could begin so vast a work, we shall rather lament 
 than be surprised that it has been left imperfect.” 
 
 And yet, to take the tales as Chaucer meant they 
 should be taken, even the modern reader needs no 
 more information about their origin than Chaucer 
 himself has given; but he is rarely satisfied merely 
 with that. The Prologue, though it has been shown 
 that Chaucer might have caught some of the traits 
 from literature, appears to be the result of personal 
 observation of English folk. The Knight’s Tale is a 
 free adaptation of the Teseide of Boccaccio, with some 
 hints from the Thebais of Statius, and takes us to 
 great cities, to courts and camps, such as Chaucer had 
 seen, whatever their date and name. The Nun’s Priest’s 
 Tale is an “ animal story” which Chaucer had found 
 in some fable, perhaps, of Marie de Prance, or more 
 amply sketched in the French Romance of Reynard 
 
THE POET 
 
 231 
 
 the Fox. He has added to it stroke after stroke of 
 fine detail, of coloured light and shade, that will rest 
 after the reading on every farm-yard you shall see. 
 
 The poetry of Chaucer was said, recited, sung; it 
 always implied the reader and the listener, both enter- 
 taining and both entertained. The scenes and ideas 
 were already their common possession before a word 
 was uttered, and a word was no sooner uttered than 
 understood. Or the reciter would explain a strange 
 word, making his explanation sometimes a part of the 
 verse itself. He who wrote what a reciter should 
 read to men of wealth or leisure knew that restful ex- 
 pletives must be introduced and dull expositions im- 
 provised by the reciter if they were not already in the 
 poem. The poems were not written for us. We and 
 our twentieth century are utterly unlike any experience 
 or vision of Chaucer’s ; and it is precisely this fact, 
 that he was of his own time, and not of a time before 
 or after, that will endear him to Englishmen more 
 and more as their world becomes more and more un- 
 like his. The churches where he worshipped, the 
 palaces he lived in, the tapestries he gazed on, and 
 such armour as his fellows wore still remain we know 
 not for how long. Chaucer’s England still remains, 
 imperishable in his verse. He knew no other, imagined 
 no other, foresaw no other ; and what a precious mem- 
 ory his verse preserves can be judged when an aged 
 
232 
 
 CHAUCER'S WORKS 
 
 philosopher of our day thus deplores the passing of 
 the vestiges of Chaucer’s England : — 
 
 “ This overrunning of the old by the new strikes me 
 afresh with every summer’s sojourn in the country, 
 and deepens my regret. . . . Though intensely mod- 
 ern and having but small respect for ancient ideas and 
 institutions, I have great pleasure in contemplating 
 the remains bequeathed by the times that are gone. 
 Not that the interest is in any degree an historical 
 one. A guide who begins his daily repeated series of 
 facts or fictions about the ancient place he is showing 
 me over, quickly has his story cut short. I do not 
 care to be distracted by it from the impression of an- 
 tiquity and from enjoyment of the half-hidden beauties 
 of the old walls and arches made more picturesque by 
 decay. And so it is with the old rural life that is 
 rapidly passing away as towns and town-habits and 
 town-ideas invade the country.” — Spencer’s Facts and 
 Comments . 
 
 LIST OF CHAUCEE’S WOEKS 
 
 EXCERPTED FROM SKEAT’S LIST 
 
 Origenes upon the Maudeleyne (lost). 
 Book of the Leoun (lost). 
 
CHAUCER’S WORKS 
 
 233 
 
 1369. 
 
 1372-3. 
 
 1377-81. 
 
 1379? 
 
 1379-83. 
 
 1382. 
 
 1383-4. 
 
 1385-6. 
 
 1386. 
 
 Ceys and Alcion (first issue). 
 
 Romaunt of the Rose, lines 1-1705 (rest lost). 
 A. B. C. 
 
 Book of the Duchesse. 
 
 Lyf of Seynt Cecyle (first issue). 
 
 Monkes Tale (parts of ; first issue). 
 
 Clerkes Tale (parts of ; first issue). 
 
 Palamon and Arcite (first issue). 
 
 Compleint to his Lady. 
 
 An Amorous Compleint, made at Windsor. 
 Compleint unto Fite. 
 
 Anelida and Arcite. 
 
 The Tale of Melibeus (first issue). 
 
 The Persones Tale (first issue). 
 
 Of the Wretched Engendring of Mankinde 
 (first issue). 
 
 Man of Lawes Tale (first issue). 
 
 Translation of Boethius. 
 
 Compleint of Mars. 
 
 Troilus and Creseyde. 
 
 Wordes to Adam. 
 
 The Former Age. 
 
 Fortune. 
 
 Parlement of Foules. 
 
 House of Fame. 
 
 Legend of Good Women. 
 
 Canterbury Tales begun. 
 
234 
 
 ORDER OF TALES 
 
 1387-8. 
 
 Central period of the Canterbury Tales. 
 
 1389, etc. 
 
 The Tales continued. 
 
 1391. 
 
 Treatise on the Astrolabe. 
 
 1393. 
 
 Compleint of Venus. 
 
 1393. 
 
 Lenvoy to Scogan. 
 
 1396. 
 
 Lenvoy to Bukton. 
 
 1399. 
 
 Envoy to Compleint to his Purse. 
 
 ORDER OF THE CANTERBURY TALES 
 
 The Prologue. 
 
 The Knightes Tale. 
 
 The Miller’s Prologue. 
 
 The Milleres Tale. 
 
 The Reeve’s Prologue. 
 
 The Reves Tale. 
 
 The Cook’s Prologue. 
 
 The Cokes Tale. 
 
 Introduction to the Man of Law’s Prologue. 
 Man of Law’s Prologue. 
 
 The Tale of the Man of Lawe. 
 
 The Shipman’s Prologue. 
 
 The Shipmannes Tale. 
 
 The Prioress’s Prologue. 
 
ORDER OF TALES 
 
 235 
 
 The Prioresses Tale. 
 
 Prologue to Sir Thopas. 
 
 Sir Thopas. 
 
 Prologue to Melibeus. 
 
 The Tale of Melibeus. 
 
 The Monk’s Prologue. 
 
 The Monkes Tale. 
 
 The Prologue of the Nonne Prestes Tale* 
 The Nonne Prestes Tale. 
 
 Epilogue to the Nonne Prestes Tale. 
 
 The Phisiciens Tale. 
 
 Words of the Host. 
 
 Prologue of the Pardoner’s Tale. 
 
 The Pardoners Tale. 
 
 The Wife of Bath’s Prologue. 
 
 The Tale of the Wyf of Bathe. 
 
 The Friar’s Prologue. 
 
 The Freres Tale. 
 
 The Somnour’s Prologue. 
 
 The Somnours Tale. 
 
 The Clerk’s Prologue. 
 
 The Clerkes Tale. 
 
 The Merchant’s Prologue. 
 
 The Marchantes Tale. 
 
 Epilogue to the Marchantes Tale. 
 
 The Squieres Tale. 
 
 Words of the Franklin. 
 
236 
 
 BOOKS FOR REFERENCE 
 
 The Franklin’s Prologue. 
 
 The Frankeleyns Tale. 
 
 The Seconde Nonnes Tale. 
 
 The Canon’s Yeoman’s Prologue. 
 The Chanouns Yemannes Tale. 
 The Manciple’s Prologue. 
 
 The Maunciples Tale. 
 
 The Parson’s Prologue. 
 
 The Persones Tale. 
 
 LIST OF BOOKS FOR REFERENCE 
 
 The Complete Works of Geoffrey Chaucer. Ed. Walter 
 W. Skeat. 7 vols. Oxford: 1894-97. 
 
 Chaucer : The Prologue to the Canterbury Tales, The 
 Knightes Tale, The Nonnes Prestes Tale. Ed. 
 Mark H. Liddell. New York : 1901. 
 
 Studies in Chaucer, His Life and Writings. By 
 Thomas R. Lounsbury. 3 vols. New York: 1892. 
 A New English Grammar. By Henry Sweet. Pts. 2. 
 Oxford: 1892-98. 
 
 Principles of English Etymology. By Walter W. 
 Skeat. Series 2. Oxford : 1887-91. 
 
BOOKS FOR REFERENCE 
 
 287 
 
 Words and their Ways in English Speech. By Janies 
 B. Greenongh and George L. Kittredge. New 
 York: 1901. 
 
 Dryden’s Palamon and Arcite. Ed Percival Chubb. 
 New York: 1899. 
 
 A History of Epidemics in Britain. By Charles 
 Creighton. Cambridge: 1891. 
 
 The Growth of English Industry and Commerce 
 during the Early and Middle Ages. By W. 
 Cunningham. Cambridge : 1890. 
 
 Chaucer, in “ Literature Primers.” By Alfred W. 
 Pollard. London and New York : Macmillan. 
 
 Geoffrey Chaucer’s Werke. Uebersetzt von Adolf von 
 During. Strassburg : 1883-86. 
 
 Canterbury Tales. Ed. Alfred W. Pollard. London : 
 1894. 
 
 The Language and Metre of Chaucer. By Bernhard 
 ten Brink. Tr. by M. Bentinck Smith. London 
 and New York: 1901. 
 
 Chaucer’s England. By Matthew Browne. London : 
 1869. 
 
 English History in the Fourteenth Century, By 
 Charles H. Pearson. London: 1876. 
 
NOTES 
 
 ♦ 
 
 1. Whan that: omit “that” in translating and slur it in 
 reading. You may wonder how it came to be introduced, and 
 fancy that it was merely to fill out the verse, since Chaucer 
 himself dispenses with it in line 5. Hero is one attempt at an 
 explanation : “ That ” goes with the following clause, “ Aprille 
 hath perced,” and was prefixed from mere force of habit, be- 
 cause it was so frequently used before clauses in other relations. 
 Another account : “ When ” meant originally “ At what time ? ” 
 Its combination with “that” meant “At that time” or “At 
 which time” ; next, “At what time” ; whereupon it was felt 
 to be possible to omit “that,” since the tone of “when” had 
 changed, and there was no longer any likelihood of confounding 
 it with “when?” There were, however, many influences at 
 work, and each case requires particular examination, if one is 
 really interested in getting a true solution. Compare “while 
 that,” “if that,” “though that,” and “which that,” “who 
 that,” and particularly the more intelligible “after that,” 
 “ere that.” 
 
 3. swich . . . which : this correspondence in sound and 
 meaning has been lost, and we do not now say, “ Swich they 
 are which they have ever been,” as a translation of “ Tales sunt 
 quales semper fuerunt .” In formal language “ such ”... 
 “ which” is still used ; but generally substitutes have come in, 
 239 
 
240 NOTES [Page 1 
 
 often clumsy enough: — “ in a liquor of such virtue as the 
 flower is engendred by.” 
 
 8. the Ram : in his yearly course from west to east in the 
 sky, the sun crosses the line (equator) in March, and becomes 
 “ the yonge sonne.” During the first half of April the sun trav- 
 erses the last half of Aries (“his halfe cours in the Ram”). 
 The ploughboy of Old England had the sun and stars for clock 
 and calendar. There was then in every one such a conscious- 
 ness and such a remembrance of the visible heavens over and 
 under the motionless earth as he never has who merely reads 
 statements of what astronomers infer from things which plough- 
 boys can see. The study of Chaucer should prompt and help to 
 recover this lost vision — to see the sky as he saw it. 
 
 14. The punctuation is approved by Liddell ; it separates this 
 line from what precedes. For like separations, see lines 118, 
 208, 388. “ To feme halwes ” is contrasted with “ to Caunter- 
 
 bury” by “specially.” Emphasize the contrasted phrases in 
 reading. 
 
 17. martir : Thomas k Becket. This Archbishop of Canter- 
 bury was murdered at the altar in 1170. Henry II did penance 
 at his tomb in 1174, though previously absolved from guilty 
 knowledge of the murder. The bones of Becket were en- 
 shrined in gold and jewels in 1220, but burned in the reign of 
 Henry VIII, 1539. In 1875 a Roman Catholic chapel to his 
 memory was opened at Canterbury by Cardinal Manning. 
 
 19. Bifel : What befell ? That nine and twenty came into 
 that hostelry. “ It befell” we use now ; the “ it ” often makes 
 the meaning plainer. 
 
 20. Tabard: when few could read, some picture, i.e. sign, 
 was needed to show what business was done within. “At 
 the Sign of the Glove, the Hat, etc., in the Street of Trinity 
 Church” served for our “At 217 Broadway.” So taverns 
 
Page 2] 
 
 PROLOGUE 
 
 241 
 
 were identified by some object suspended without ; later by 
 some representation of such an object on a board ; and again by 
 a mere name, as u The Jug,” “ The Pair of Spurs.” 
 
 22. with ful devout corage : there is no rule for telling 
 where imagination leaves off and fact begins ; until such a rule 
 is found, we may believe as much or as little as we please of 
 what Chaucer says of himself. 
 
 24. nine and twenty : this number is inconsistent with other 
 parts of the poem ; but the poem was never finished, and never 
 intended for those who find more pleasure in detecting discrep- 
 ancies than in reading the tales. Besides, it is a sonorous, 
 verse-filling number ; it coincides with the narrator’s counting, 
 in which he would not naturally include himself. It is true 
 there were “fully” (wel) twenty-nine. 
 
 31. So hadde I spoken: the “I” in this line need not 
 stand for the author, but the actor ; that is, the reader or 
 reciter of the poem amid a group of listeners, — a frequent 
 scene when not many could read. 
 
 37. Me thinketh: “(to) me (it) seemeth,” “it seems to 
 me.” The “to” was implied in the “me” and the “it” in 
 the ending “-eth,” and did not require the separate expression 
 which they came to need later. 
 
 41. in . . . inne: the instances of Multiple Indication are 
 much more frequent in verse than in prose, in earlier than in 
 later compositions. The relation is expressed twice, and either 
 “ in ” might be dispensed with. 
 
 41. that : any group of words might be treated as a single 
 word, and might be replaced by a single word. Such a word- 
 group is sometimes changed (one might say inflected), or marked 
 by certain signs, on becoming part of a larger group. The vari- 
 ety of usage may be illustrated by some distortions of English 
 phrases rather than by phrases from languages you may not 
 
 R 
 
242 
 
 NOTES 
 
 [Pagh 2 
 
 Know. . Let “he had come” form part of a larger group, and 
 see how we might have spoken, in order to understand better 
 how we do speak : “I was astonished that he had come,” 44 at 
 the fact that he had come,” “ at that he had come,” 44 at he had 
 come,” 44 at his having come,” 44 at him having come,” “at he 
 have come,” “at him have come,” “I was astonished he had 
 come,” “him to have come,” and many more. “That” was 
 the most frequent group-prefix, and came to he used to indicate 
 incorporation or subordination, even when there were oth.r 
 indications that might have sufficed. 
 
 42. “ at a knight ” is as plain to our comprehension as 44 with 
 a knight.” So above 44 to reste ” is as intelligible as “ at rest.” 
 Such differences as these are but slight obstacles to the under- 
 standing of Chaucer. They may accordingly be of little impor- 
 tance to us now, but they are important to others in determining 
 the date, the author, the birthplace of a manuscript ; they are 
 facts of language from which conclusions may be drawn, too 
 far-reaching for us to discuss now. 
 
 43. worthy : Chaucer impresses on us the “ worthiness ” of 
 his knight by the repetition of the word. 44 Worthiness ” means 
 complete conformity to the ideal of chivalry. 
 
 45. to riden out, i.e. abroad to seek adventures, to gain skill 
 in field and court, to acquire knowledge that would help others. 
 Distinguish 44 out” in this line from 44 out” in line 166. 
 
 51-65. The map shows that all these places lie on the boundary 
 of “ cristendom and hethenesse” as it was in the middle of 
 the fourteenth century. The scene of “his lordes werre” was 
 in France or Scotland. The duration of his distant campaign- 
 ing was from 1344 to 1365. His son is twenty years of age. 
 The date of the pilgrimage is probably 1387. The knight is 
 then some fifty years old, and his son was born to him after 
 his return from foreign wars. The last of the crusades had 
 
Page 4] 
 
 PROLOGUE 
 
 243 
 
 ended dismally with the loss of Acre in 1291. The Teutonic 
 knights had sought new foes in Lithuania and Poland. The 
 knights hospitallers were sheltered in the island of Rhodes. 
 The templars had been humbled and crushed and impoverished 
 by Christian kings. When the real services of the knights as 
 knights were no longer needed under changed conditions, the 
 and jjageantry of armorial suits, of parades and tourna- 
 ments, gathered new force, became established in the hearts and 
 imaginations of the peoples, and reflected in all forms of art, 
 notably in The Knight's Tale. 
 
 60. another hethen than the one he fought against “ in 
 Tramissene,” not another than the “lord of Palatye,” who 
 was a Christian. 
 
 68. The meaning is jdain enough, but note that the words 
 “ that ” and “ were ” would not be used now. 
 
 74. There is a double indication of jdurality here, — u were ’’ 
 and “ e ” in u gode ” ; “ hors ” alone may be singular or plural. 
 
 80. lovyere: “ luvyer” in comic ballads in dialect might be 
 supposed to be a misijronunciation of “lover.” In origin and 
 dignity Chaucer’s word ranks with “lover,” which he also uses. 
 
 80. bacheler : many words are liable to be misapprehended 
 by the modern reader from the very familiarity of their aspect. 
 
 87. litel space may mean (1) narrow area, (2) brief time, 
 (3) limited opportunity. Perhaps (2) was alone present to 
 Chaucer’s mind ; but a poet need not change his fdirase because 
 it expresses more than he had at first intended, provided the 
 associated meanings are not mutually contradictory, but each 
 and all suitable. The manifold implications of which the scien- 
 tist or the philosopher seeks to divest his terms are welcome to 
 the word- artist. 
 
 “ All the charm of all the muses often flowering in one lonely 
 word.” — Tennyson. 
 
244 
 
 NOTES 
 
 [Page 4 
 
 88. lady, for “ of a lady,” came to be written “ lady’s,” ex- 
 cept in a few phrases, like “ Lady-day,” u lady-bird.” Chaucer 
 is not dropping an “s” or taking any liberties with the lan- 
 guage ; he is simply adhering to the usage of his time. 
 
 91. floytinge : the usual meaning given to this word has 
 been “playing on a flute,” but Flugel, Jour, of Germ. Phil., 
 I, 2, 125, thinks it here means “whistling,” but his reasons are 
 less persuasive than the mere suggestion. 
 
 102. him (it) pleased (to) ride so: “it” and “to” have 
 not dropped out ; Chaucer was not conscious of any omission. 
 When one studies the English of any century preceding that 
 of Chaucer, many features of Chaucer’s language wear a dif- 
 ferent aspect. If you have already studied Latin or French or 
 German, you will easily find parallels to Chaucer’s constructions 
 which you do not find in modern English. 
 
 120. SeynteLoy: St. Eligius. This saint once refused to 
 take an oath. Some think that this story was well enough 
 known for Chaucer to believe that his phrase, besides its simple 
 and obvious meaning, could also be surmised to mean that the 
 prioresse did not swear at all. 
 
 121. Madame Eglentine : script falls so far short of speech 
 that we can only guess the meanings that Chaucer’s voice would 
 have given to this description of the prioresse. Would he have 
 read this line as a mere statement, or have imitated the tone of 
 those who called her Madame ? 
 
 “ It is ful fair to been y-clept 4 Madame.’ ” — Line 876. 
 
 122-123. entuned : singing the divine service and entuning 
 (humming) it to guide the singing of another are two different 
 things. The prioresse could do both. 
 
 125. The Anglo-French of the Benedictine nunnery at Strat- 
 ford-at-Bow (then three hundred years old) was a good lam 
 
Page 9] 
 
 PROLOGUE 
 
 245 
 
 guage. The prioresse spoke it with a somewhat old-fashioned 
 precision, and deplored all divergences from her standard of 
 correctness. This amuses the travelled Chaucer. 
 
 127-136. wel y-taught : The nun’s manners conform to the 
 directions laid down in Le Roman de la Rose. She was probably 
 not acquainted with the book as Chaucer was. 
 
 131. fille : should fall. 
 
 144. if that she sawe : if she should see. 
 
 149. men : not the modern English men. See Glossary. 
 
 159. peire : not modern English pair. See Glossary. 
 
 173. seynt Beneit : St. Benedict (480-543) brought monasti- 
 cism into W estern Europe. St. Maur was his disciple. Their rule 
 was already six hundred years old. ‘ 1 The reule,’ 1 coming before 
 “by cause,” goes with the nearest verb “ w r as,” like the Latin ; 
 but unlike the Latin, “it” has to be introduced after “by 
 cause.” Regula Sancti Benedicti quia vetus erat. See lines 
 2987-2988. 
 
 177. He thought nothing of this text, not the worth of a 
 plucked hen. “Text” and “Scriptures” were used of other 
 authorities than the Bible. The second of these texts has been 
 found in writings of the fifth century. 
 
 183. Chaucer had talked with the monk, and assured him 
 with unsuspected irony that in his case the study and hand- 
 work would hardly serve the world. 
 
 187. As St. Augustine (35^-430) biddeth. 
 
 192. For no expense would he hold back. 
 
 194. The finest a land can produce. 
 
 210. The four orders are the Franciscans, the Dominicans, 
 the Carmelites, the Augustinians. There are many popular 
 names of each order, as Black, Gray Friars, etc. 
 
 212-213. This friar had violated his vow of chastity, and 
 made strange atonement to those whom he had wronged by 
 
246 
 
 NOTES 
 
 [Page 9 
 
 providing each with a husband and a marriage portion. And 
 yet he sought the company of wealthy and respectable men and 
 women, and, displacing the curates, heard confession and gave 
 absolution in virtue of the license which he had from the Pope. 
 He enriched himself and his order from fees and presents, and 
 thus violated his vow of poverty. He professes to believe that 
 the best way to gain favour of heaven is to give money to “the 
 povre freres.” 
 
 232. Men. See line 149. 
 
 233. “It anciently formed part of the dress for women to 
 wear a knife or knives sheathed and suspended from their 
 girdles.” - — Brand’s Popular Antiquities, art. “ Bride-knives.” 
 
 242. Better than he knew a leper or a beggar. 
 
 244. as by his facultee : in view of his abilities. 
 
 246-255. There was no punctuatiqn in the manuscripts. 
 Editors differ in punctuating. Punctuate these lines in as 
 many different ways as seem to you allowable. 
 
 247. “ delen ” was once sufficient where “to delen ” was 
 required later, the relational meaning of the “to” having be- 
 come very general and vague. Indeed, so obscured was its 
 meaning that “to delen” was treated just as “delen” had 
 been, and “for to delen” took its place. “Eor” is now dis- 
 used. Can we suppose that “ to ” will disappear also, and that 
 we shall say as of old, “it is no use wish know such things ” ? 
 
 249. ther as : I cannot explain briefly how “ ther as” meant 
 “ where.” It is not likely that Chaucer himself knew. It con- 
 cerns us first to learn what Chaucer’s phrases meant to him. 
 
 254. Inprincipio: the “limitour” introduces himself at 
 every house with “ In principio erat verbum ,” “ In the begin- 
 ning was the word.” The Latin, of course, inspired simple 
 souls with confidence in him ; but I do not see why he quoted 
 the first verse of the Gospel of St. John. 
 
Page 12] 
 
 PROLOGUE 
 
 247 
 
 255. ferthing is not here a piece of money, a farthing, but 
 some trifle. Not that Chaucer was not equal to representing 
 the friar as getting a coin from one who had not even a shoe. 
 
 266. harping: “in his harping” goes with “he hadde 
 
 songe,” when he had sung to his harp. Cf. line 173. 
 
 276. kept for any thinge : he would have the sea guarded 
 at any cost that his goods might not be captured. It has taken 
 much hard work to secure the present safety of the seas. Draw 
 a line on your map from Harwich at the mouth of the Orwell in 
 Essex, England, to Middelburg in the island of Walcheren, and 
 reflect on the perils of such a passage. Professor Hales discov- 
 ered that for four years from 1384 the wool-staple was not at 
 Calais, but at Middelburg, and inferred that our merchant was 
 making his pilgrimage in one of those years. 
 
 278. eschaunge : what any one in commercial countries can 
 do now as a matter of course, namely, exchange moneys (coins) 
 at rates agreed on was then kept in the hands of officials. “ Free- 
 dom was granted to merchants to exchange with one another as 
 long as they did not do it for gain, but only for mutual conven- 
 ience.” — Cunningham. Chaucer does not say that his mer- 
 chant reaped any profit from his money changings, nor does he 
 say (1. 280) that he was in debt, that is, had borrowed any money 
 to put in his business, and repay with interest. Imagine modern 
 merchants forbidden to do this. Yet that is just what our mer- 
 chant was forbidden to do. No wonder he was circumspect in 
 his management (estatly of his governaunce). See this extract 
 from an ordinance of 1363, quoted by Cunningham, “Whereas 
 heretofore the City of London has sustained great mischiefs, scan- 
 dals, and damages by reason of certain persons who, neither for 
 fear of God nor for shame of the world, cease, but rather do daily 
 exert themselves to maintain the false and abominable contract 
 of usury (interest), under cover and colour of good and lawful 
 
248 
 
 1 VOTES 
 
 [Page 12 
 
 trading ; which kind of contract, the more subtily to deceive the 
 people, they call exchange or chevisance, whereas it might more 
 truly be called mescheaunce, seeing that it ruins the honour and 
 soul of the agent, and sweeps away the goods and property of 
 him who appears to be accommodated, and destroys all manner 
 of right and lawful traffic.” 
 
 293. for (to) him (it) was levere (to) have, etc. : he had 
 
 rather have, or he liked better to have. 
 
 297. philosophre : alchemists were also called philosophers, 
 but this philosopher was no alchemist. 
 
 318-320. purchasour : “ Gower’s verses explain the word 
 ‘ purchasour ’ in a different sense from that which has been 
 assumed hitherto (conveyancer) ; they show that the expres- 
 sion implies a buying up of landed estates which the lawyers 
 were able to effect by deceiving their clients, bringing them- 
 selves thus, to the detriment of the country, into the class of 
 the great landowners.” — Flugel, in Anglia , Vol. XXIV. 
 
 323. hadde he cas : he could cite accurately the cases and 
 decisions that had been reported since William the Conqueror. 
 
 333. complexioun does not have here its modern meaning. 
 
 337. pleyn delyt : he held the opinion that pleasure is the 
 highest good. 
 
 340. Seynt Julian : St. Julian was invoked by travellers and 
 pilgrims. 
 
 353. table dormant : irremovable tables had been recently 
 introduced. Previously a board on wooden trestles had sufficed. 
 
 355. sire : at the meeting of the justices of the peace he held 
 the highest position ; was addressed as “ lord” and “sire.” 
 
 356. knight of the shire : representative in Parliament of 
 an English county, as Chaucer himself was of Kent in 1386. 
 
 363. liveree : livery, from meaning anything that was deliv- 
 ered at stated times to servants or retainers, came to be limited 
 
Page 17] 
 
 PROLOGUE 
 
 249 
 
 to whatever might he worn as a distinctive badge of an associa- 
 tion, fraternity, or gild. 
 
 371. wisdom that he can : for the wisdom that he knows, 
 was competent to be the head of a gild. 
 
 377. al bifore : before all others. 
 
 385. greet harm : it is a pity that he is so afflicted, but that 
 does not interfere with his making prime blancmanger ; or it is 
 a pity that one should be so afflicted who can make such excel- 
 lent blancmanger as he. 
 
 390. Sailors are not noted for skill in choosing or riding horses. 
 
 395. good felawe : “ a jolly good fellow,” not “ a good fel- 
 low enough.” 
 
 397. Burdeux-ward : framward and toward were some- 
 times written thus : to Burdeux ward, from Burdeux ward. 
 
 400. sente hem hoom : he kindly urged them to leap over- 
 board, and switn in whatever direction their home might be. 
 
 402. daungers him besides : the dangers that encompassed 
 him. 
 
 404. Hulle to Cartage : apparently the northern and the 
 southern limits of his voyagings. 
 
 410. Maudelayne : the returns of the custom-house of Dart- 
 mouth are still preserved in the Record Office, and under date 
 of 1386 is found, “Navis. Magdaleyne. Peter Risshenden 
 sailed 21 Sept. Pro fabis value 13s. 4d.” 
 
 413. To speke of, etc.: in medicine and surgery. 
 
 414. astronomy e : the kind of astronomy he knew was the 
 positions of the sun, moon, planets, and horizons to one another 
 at the date of an illness. From these facts he thought he could 
 tell what to do as well as from the appearance of his patient. 
 These aspects of the heavens change from hour to hour, and 
 the treatment that would succeed under one aspect would fail 
 under another. This knowledge of nature enabled him to rival 
 
250 
 
 NOTES 
 
 [Page 17 
 
 magic by keeping his patient in adjustment to the proper hours. 
 His images were made of wax, clay, etc., and could be treated 
 instead of the patient. If this treatment did not succeed, it was 
 because the right moment had not been chosen. In the twenty- 
 four hours of the day each point of the sun-path comes up in 
 the east in succession. The ascendent of the image was the 
 point that rose just as it was being made or treated. The doc- 
 tour “fortuned this ascendent,” i.e. made it lucky by waiting 
 for the right one before he busied himself with his image. 
 
 420. hoot . . . drye : the theory of disease in the Middle 
 Ages was itself a disease. Fire, water, earth, and air were 
 elements which had in varying degrees the qualities of heat, 
 cold, moisture, and dryness corresponding to the four “ com- 
 plexions ” or “humours” or “temperaments,” melancholic, 
 phlegmatic, sanguine, choleric, and engendering diseases by 
 their excess or defect in heart, lungs, etc. 
 
 429. Esculapius : myth, fable, and history were distinguished 
 differently by the Middle and by the Modern Age. It was 
 possible in the Middle Ages not only to believe that Aesculapius 
 had lived, but to exhibit the work which he had written. The 
 doctour knew the principal text-books of the period, — some 
 Classical, some from the early Middle Ages, some (the last 
 three) of contemporary authorship. They are Greek, Arab, 
 Moorish, and English. 
 
 441. esy of dispence : slow to spend, though you might not 
 have thought so from his rich attire. 
 
 442. The pestilences of the fourteenth century had increased 
 the cost of living for the upper classes, but the doctour of phi- 
 sik did not mean to let that deprive him of his superior gains. 
 These pestilences had occurred in 1348-49-62-69-76. 
 
 443. cordial : for the reason that gold in medicine is a sover- 
 eign remedy — for just that reason, and no other, he loved gold ! 
 
Page 20] 
 
 PROLOGUE 
 
 251 
 
 Gold had so many good qualities that it was held it would prove 
 a good medicine if it could only be rendered drinkable, durum 
 potabile. 
 
 447. swiche an haunt : spinning and weaving were once the 
 work of households, of matron and daughter, of maid and man, 
 either for home consumption or to exchange for other things. 
 
 449-452. Contributions were not taken up in the churches, 
 but laid by the giver on the altar. The humbler sort waited 
 till their betters had gone up. “ The good Wyf ” was angry if 
 any one presumed to start before she did. 
 
 454. ten pound : they were large enough to weigh ten pounds, 
 but Chaucer may exaggerate sometimes. 
 
 460. chirche-dore : the first part of the marriage ceremony 
 was performed in the church porch, the couple thereupon ad- 
 vancing to the altar. 
 
 461. compaignye in youthe : not to mention previous 
 suitors. 
 
 465-466. At Boulogne, to worship the image of the Virgin ; 
 in Galicia, at the shrine of Compostella, where the body of St. 
 James reposed ; at Cologne, where lay the bones of the Three 
 Wise Men of the East. 
 
 475. knew perchaunce : she might counsel others from her 
 experience. 
 
 486. cursen for his tithes : very painful would it be to him 
 to excommunicate any one for not paying the tithes. 
 
 489. substaunce: from the contributions to him and from 
 his own income. 
 
 495. Upon . . . staf: (going) upon his feet, and (holding) 
 in his hand a staff. The words in parentheses are not needed 
 for the sense, were not thought of by Chaucer or any one who 
 heard him. Schools sometimes exact a fulness of statement 
 that the living language knows nothing of. An expression ma} 
 
252 
 
 NOTES 
 
 [Page 20 
 
 be expanded to render the meaning precise or unmistakable, or 
 to restore its original form, or through inadvertence, but not 
 merely to enable it to be parsed, unless, indeed, parsing is a 
 process by which an expression is made more intelligible to one’s 
 self or another. 
 
 498. gospel : see Matt. v. 19 ; also v. 13 for what follows. 
 
 510. chaunterye : chantries had come to be looked on as 
 easy berths where there was nothing to do but chant mass for a 
 dead man’s soul at stated times. 
 
 511. been withholde : the “Persoun” is indirectly com- 
 mended for not seeking the seclusion of a monastery as a release 
 from his parish duties. 
 
 516. despitous : he did not manifest toward the sinful man 
 anger or disdain or cold reserve. 
 
 526. spiced conscience : he was no Pharisee. A spiced 
 conscience was too nice for common folk. In France the gifts 
 or fees of suitors to judges, either before (Skeat) or after 
 (Littre) the decision, were called spices ( espices ) ; but this 
 may not have been in Chaucer’s mind in using the proverbial 
 expression. 
 
 529. brother: “was his brother” maybe so spoken as to 
 be equivalent to “who was his brother.” There is really no 
 need in speech of the double indication, but in print “ who ” is 
 clearer. Ploughmen in England now are farm laborers. This 
 ploughman was a poor farmer (lessee of land), who probably 
 paid his rent, like his tithes, in work or kind. 
 
 534. Both in joy and woe. 
 
 540. He worked out his tithes, or paid them in kind ; nothing 
 is said of money. 
 
 541. The ploughman was not a person of quality, and might 
 not be disgraced by riding a mare. 
 
 548. A ram was the prize. 
 
Page 25] 
 
 PROLOGUE 
 
 253 
 
 557-559. Chaucer appears to mention the characteristics of 
 the “Miller” just as they occur to his mind. It was useless 
 for the enumeration to follow a principle which few would dis- 
 cover who read, and none who merely heard. 
 
 561. “That” refers, of course, not to the jangler, but to his 
 jangling. 
 
 562. The American reader needs to be reminded that corn is 
 not maize. 
 
 563. thombe of gold: and yet he was an “uncommon” 
 good miller, had a thumb that could detect, after the wont of 
 millers, the slightest variation in the fineness of the meal. But 
 besides this meaning there is the suggestion of the proverb, 
 “every honest miller has a thumb of gold,” which means 
 “there is no honest miller.” Compare “the wise man’s heart 
 is on his right side” and the following from Venn’s Symbolic 
 Logic: “There was an old saying at Croyland in the fens, — 
 then inaccessible to wheeled traffic, — that all the carts that 
 came there had the tires of their wheels of silver.” 
 
 570. took by taille : gave his promise to pay, which was a 
 notched stick (tally), scored with the price, and payable at the 
 proper time when presented and proved to match a similarly 
 notched stick. 
 
 581. by his propre good : to make him keep within his 
 income. 
 
 586. hir aller: of them all. “To set one’s cap” is “to 
 cheat him.” 
 
 594. on him winne : could get the better of him. 
 
 604. ne knew his sleighte : whose trickery and deceit he 
 did not know. “That. . . his” for “whose” is not uncom- 
 mon now in conversation. 
 
 605. deeth : the pestilence. 
 
 611. He grew rich at his lord’s expense, and yet got the 
 
254 
 
 NOTES 
 
 [Page 25 
 
 thanks of the latter and gifts besides for lending him what was 
 really his own money. 
 
 621. Tukked . . . aboute : his loose surcoat was gathered 
 about the waist by the girdle. 
 
 624. ckerubinnes face : cherubs were painted red in early 
 art. Cherubin is used as singular, though it is modified from 
 cherubim, which is the Hebrew plural, though used in English 
 as singular. 
 
 644. thing him grope: “thing” is either singular or plural 
 in Chaucer. Translate “ in any other point.” 
 
 646. Questio quid juris : the question is, what is the law in 
 this matter. 
 
 652. finch : “to pull a finch,” like “ to pluck a pigeon,” “ to 
 shear a lamb,” etc., means to gain something from a weak or 
 simple person which he would not yield if he had strength 
 or sense. 
 
 655-656. Erchedeknes curs : the archdeacon may curse your 
 soul, but he is thinking of your purse ; he may threaten you 
 with the pains of hell, but he will punish you only in your 
 purse ; he may denounce such things as you are doing, but 
 have no awe of him, go on ; you can buy him off. So would 
 the “summoner” describe the archdeacon to the “good 
 felawe.” But Chaucer professes to know that the “somnour” 
 lied, and that the curse of the archdeacon could keep the soul 
 from bliss, so that a guilty man ought to dread it, and particu- 
 larly to beware of exposing himself to a writ of excommunica- 
 tion. This was called a “ significavit ” from the word it began 
 with. Some modern readers may suspect Chaucer of indiffer- 
 ence to the curse of a prelate, and imagine that he sees the 
 irony of this repudiation of the somnour’s slanders. Who 
 knows what Chaucer really thought ? It was one thing to see 
 the corruption, the inconsistencies, and absurdities of the church, 
 
Page 29J 
 
 PROLOGUE 
 
 255 
 
 and to set these forth in an English that commanded attention ; 
 it was quite another thing to doubt at that time the doctrines of 
 the church as men afterward doubted and rejected them. 
 
 663-664. daunger: “daunger” does not mean “danger,” 
 nor does “ girles ” mean u girls.” It was a terrible thing, if it was 
 true, that such a man had brought under his control the young 
 people in the diocese by his authority to summon for alleged 
 violation of ecclesiastical laws — laws that sought to regulate 
 all the most intimate, private, and personal relations of life. 
 
 669. Pardoner : that there is no exaggeration in this sketch 
 of a pardoner Jusserand has shown by utterances of contempo- 
 rary popes and bishops. It appears that there were genuine 
 pardoners duly licensed to remit penances on certain specified 
 conditions, and to account for any money thus acquired to the 
 church. But false pardoners sprang up everywhere who forged 
 bulls and licenses and relics, claimed power to remit sins, ex- 
 cluded sometimes priests and vicars from their own churches, 
 or brought charges against them, and had them suspended from 
 their functions, and spent the money they won in the gratifica- 
 tion of their own desires. They were suppressed by a decree of 
 the Council of Trent in 1562. 
 
 685. vemicle : this vernicle was a copy of the napkin of St. 
 Veronica preserved at Rome, on which the image of Christ had 
 been miraculously impressed. See Mrs. Jameson’s Sacred and 
 Legendary Art . 
 
 695. our lady veyl : the veil of the Virgin Mary. Lady was 
 used where lady’s is now. It still is used in lady-bird, lady-bug, 
 lady-day. Not so very long before Chaucer’s time they wrote 
 “ hlaefdigan ” ; in Chaucer’s time, “lady”; soon afterward, 
 “ladys,” and now “ lady's.” See line 88. 
 
 702. upon lond : in the country. 
 
 703. Upon a day : in one day. 
 
256 
 
 NOTES 
 
 [Page 29 
 
 706. apes : he made the parson and people what they did 
 not want to be, and did not know that they were, and also 
 made them contribute to his amusement or profit. Why not 
 say at once, “he made them his dupes”? Because I would 
 suggest the scene from which this phrase might have originated, 
 the showman’s dancing apes in a village green. I do not say “ did 
 originate,” since the origin of an expression like this is from its 
 nature obscure. 
 
 710. alderbest, from “ ealra betst,” “ best of all.” 
 
 715. in a clause: elsewhere, “shortly in a clause,” and 
 “ in a litel clause,” all meaning “ briefly.” 
 
 716. Thestat : “the estate,” “ th’ estate,” and “thestate” 
 would differ little in pronunciation, and hardly affect the 
 verse. In line 708 we might write “ noble ecclesiaste,” “ nobl’ 
 ecclesiaste,” “nobl ecclesiaste,” or “ noblecclesiaste,” without 
 meaning to suggest differences of pronunciation, or that verse 
 in this respect was read differently from prose. 
 
 720. yow for to telle : but now it is time to tell you. In 
 translating into modern idiomatic English, note (1) insertions 
 or omissions of words or letters, (2) changes of word or phrase, 
 (3) change of order. Do not do this at the time of translation, 
 think then of the meaning only ; but later, when you have 
 finished writing the translation. You need to read some middle 
 English prose to feel the differences between the word-orders of 
 prose and verse. 
 
 733. Everich a: “the words every one,” “every single 
 word.” The older form “ an ” became in some word-sequences 
 “ a ” ; in others, “ one.” Where there was no spelling, or where 
 the spelling changed with the sound, and even now with our 
 stationary spelling, a change of sense tends to be accompanied by 
 change of sound. 
 
 733. in his charge : in his assumed task. 
 
Page 32] 
 
 PROLOGUE 
 
 257 
 
 736. “ thing ” is plural, and means “ things.” 
 
 738. He must say one word as much as another. 
 
 741. Plato : Chaucer knew no Greek, and quotes Plato at 
 second hand. He found the sentence in the Latin of Boethius, 
 and translated it, “Thou hast lerned by the sentence of Plato 
 that nedes the wordes moten be cosines to the thinges of which 
 they speke n.” 
 
 744. A1 have I nat : although I have not. 
 
 751. our hoste was : Chaucer varies his phrases, but not so 
 that a listener would notice it. You who are reading can turn 
 back to “ A Knight there was,” “ With him ther was his sone,” 
 etc., and compare these formulas of introduction with the intro- 
 duction of the hoste. 
 
 760. rekeninges : made up our accounts, paid our scores. 
 
 769. “God yow spede” still survives in “God speed you,” 
 for which the modern English often uses the later form, 
 “may God speed you.” There are similar survivals in “God 
 grant,” “God bless,” etc., but we should hardly say, “the 
 blissful martyr give you your reward ” without prefixing 
 “ may.” 
 
 772. pleye : Chaucer had often his choice among six forms 
 where we are restricted to one, — “pleye,” “pleyen,” “to 
 pleye,” “to pleyen,” “for to pleye,” “for to pleyen.” Note 
 also that “ pleye ” is a dissyllable before a consonant, or at the 
 end of a breath-group, and that “to talen ” cannot be replaced 
 by “to tale ” in this line. Such a light final syllable is said to 
 be missed by the makers of English verse to-day. 
 
 777. yow liketh alle : if it pleases you all. Chaucer said, 
 “if me liketh,” or “if it me liketh,” but not “ if I like.” 
 
 781. fader soule : for “father’s” Chaucer has not only 
 “fader” as here, but also “fadres” and “faders.” 
 
 783. hond : sing., because one hand of each is meant 
 s 
 
258 NOTES [Page 32 
 
 u Hold up your honds” might have suggested to Chaucer that 
 each was to hold up both hands. 
 
 785. Us thoughte : of the forms, Me thought, Thee thought, 
 Him thought, etc., only the first is now used at all. “ We 
 thought it was not worth while to deliberate upon it.” We do 
 not express the thought as briefly and yet as simply and plainly 
 as Chaucer did. 
 
 788. for the beste : as well as you can, as best you can. 
 
 791. shorte with : to shorten our way with. 
 
 799. our aller : of us all. 
 
 810. othes swore : “we” is implied, and need not be ex- 
 pressed in this and the next line ; later, as with us, the insertion 
 of “we” at least once (with the first verb) became the rule. 
 
 817. heigh and lowe : in great matters and in small. 
 
 826. W atering : a watering-place for horses at the second 
 milestone on the road to the shrine of St. Thomas. 
 
 829. woot : Chaucer has “ye witen,” “ye wite,” and “ye 
 woot.” The last had once been confined to the singular. Here 
 he obliterates a distinction ; he retains the distinction between 
 singular and plural forms in many cases where we have dropped 
 it altogether. Thus, “ he rad,” “they riden,” are respectively 
 he rode, they rode. This double indication, or rather triple in- 
 dication of plurality, had ceased to be necessary for the sense. 
 
 830. This line stands out for sound and sentiment among the 
 host’s utterances, and seems to be an appropriate quotation 
 which should be rendered with due solemnity, as it recalls to 
 each what he had sworn to amid the festivities of the evening. 
 If I tell the best stories, I shall have a supper without cost to 
 myself ; if I do not, I shall pay for my own supper and a trifle 
 more ; but if I refuse to abide by the judgment of the host, I 
 shall pay all the expenses of the journey ! 
 
 833-834. Compare for variation in expression lines 805-806. 
 
 839. Cometh is plural in form, but singular in meaning. 
 
Page 40] 
 
 THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 259 
 
 THE KNIGHT’S TALE 
 
 859. olde stories : 'this tale is derived mainly from the Tese « 
 ide of Boccaccio (1315-75 a.d.) with some hints from the The - 
 hais of Statius (61-96 a.d.). 
 
 860. duk . . . Theseus: Chaucer pictured to himself the 
 past in the likeness of his own experience. 
 
 864. contree : the French accent to-day “ contr^e ” on the 
 last syllable ; the English, “ country ” on the first. The accent 
 of this and of many other Anglo-French words, like u prestige ” 
 even now, was not fixed in Chaucer’s time, and he could justifi- 
 ably use the accentuation which the verse required. In reading 
 the verse your ear must be your guide. 
 
 866. Femenye: the kingdom of the Amazons. 
 
 885. as now differs somewhat from u now,” not “at the 
 present time,” but “ in view of the present circumstances.” 
 
 925. Thanked be : this is all owing to fortune, etc. 
 
 926. That does not insure that any estate shall be happy. 
 
 933. starf : sterven (1) to die, (2) to die of hunger or cold, 
 
 (3) to die of hunger. (1) is the old use, (2) is common in Eng- 
 land, (3) is the only use known to many Americans. 
 
 936. losten alle : we all lost, etc. Make a slight pause after 
 “ alle.” 
 
 943-944. Connect “of alle oure lordes” with “the bodies” 
 of the line following, not the line preceding. If these questions 
 interest you, you might find instances to justify the joining of 
 “alle oure lordes” with “bodies” of the preceding line. Such 
 would be instances: (1) where other words immediately pre- 
 cede “of” ; (2) where a verse ending comes between. 
 
 957-958. hente, conforteth : the change of tense (hente, 
 conforteth) may have no meaning, though it is not difficult to 
 
NOTES 
 
 [Page 40 
 
 260 
 
 assign several. “While lifting them, one after the other, he 
 keeps consoling them.” See a similar change in line 966. 
 
 977. feeldes : this needs no explanation to any one who 
 knows how a hit of color will brighten dp a room. The whole 
 landscape would fade if that banner should be furled. 
 
 984. thoughte fighte : where he thought to fight. 
 
 1007. diden bisinesse : were busily engaged. We use u to 
 do business” in a very different sense, and we do not use “to 
 do cure” at all. 
 
 1017. best in special : especially well, with no manner of 
 doubt. 
 
 1031. “ Liveth ” from line 1028 is felt in this line with “ Pala- 
 mon and Arcite.” “In joye and in honour ” is contrasted with 
 “in angwish and in wo.” 
 
 1038. rose colour : this is not rose-color, but rose’s color. 
 Rose is genitive, see line 88. This simple and beautiful line is 
 transformed by a modern translator to “her complexion con- 
 tested the superiority with the rose’s color.” If we could only 
 learn from Chaucer how to talk plain English ! 
 
 1045. observaunce : it is usual to quote in explanation of 
 this phrase the accounts of the way in which this “ observaunce ” 
 was done by throngs of peasants, and anciently of nobles, 
 spending the night before in pastimes in the woods, and return- 
 ing at dawn with flowers and branches to adorn their homes ; 
 but all that is widely different from the tender observance of 
 May the “parfit, gentil Knight” tells of. 
 
 1047. rise : I have already called your attention to the 
 variety of forms Chaucer had at his disposal ; note here how 
 freely he combines them, as in “ to aoon and for tc rise.” 
 
 1048 : for to devise : to give you a description. 
 
 1051 : at the sonne upriste : at the sun’s uprising, at sui^ 
 rise. “ Sonne ” is genitive. 
 
Page 47] 
 
 THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 261 
 
 1052 : her liste : as (it to) her pleased. 
 
 1059 : Such lines as this give an air of truth to the situation ; 
 the knight is talking while he rides amid the listening pilgrims. 
 If you do not bear this in mind, they may appear as blemishes. 
 
 1061. hir pleyinge : her “ pleyinge ” was in walking up and 
 down, gathering flowers, weaving a garland, and singing. It is 
 better to think of these things than to substitute some modern 
 phrase for “hadde hir pleyinge,” but perhaps you may find a 
 suitable translation. 
 
 1087. disposicioun : Saturn, we are told, means harm, and 
 the constellation here unnamed might mean worse harm ; but 
 the really “wicked” thing is the aspect or disposition of the 
 two, that is, the angle between the two lines that join the 
 observer to each. 
 
 1094. veyn imaginacioun : in this opinion you are utterly 
 mistaken. 
 
 1097. that: we w^ould say, “I received a hurt that will be 
 my bane.” Our “that” recalls certain words; Chaucer’s 
 “that” recalls the thought, no matter how expressed. 
 
 1105. Yow ... to transfigure: to transfigure yourself. 
 Note the change from “ thy ” in the line before. 
 
 1121. atte leste weye : at least. 
 
 1125. Whether: “Does he laugh or cry?” was formerly 
 “ Whether laughs he or cries he ? ” We have lost this use of 
 “ whether,” but retain a similar use in “ they ask me whether 
 he laughs or cries.” 
 
 1127. me list ful evele pleye : I am little inclined to jest. 
 (To) me (it) pleases not at all (to) play. Jesting would be a 
 sad pleasure enough. Note how brief and simple Chaucer’s 
 phrase is, and how “ bad,” “sad,” “evil,” etc., come to mean 
 “ not.” 
 
 1132. Y-sworn: sworn brothers, fratres jurati , freres 
 
262 NOTES [Page 4? 
 
 ( Varmes , became such by a pledge, usually accompanied by 
 some ceremony, not without superstition. 
 
 1133. peyne : each had sworn rather to die as by torture 
 than to hinder the other in love. 
 
 1133-1135. We say, “ they swore not to hinder” and “they 
 swore that they would not hinder.” Chaucer says here, “ they 
 swore that . . . not to hinder.” Some call this a blending of 
 two constructions ; others, a change of construction caused by 
 the long interval between “that” and “hinder”; but some 
 feel the last to be as rational and natural as either of the others. 
 Consider, “I promise this : I will not hinder him,” and “ I prom- 
 ise this : not to hinder him,” and then change in each “ this” 
 to “that.” 
 
 1142. been aboute : “ What is he about? ” To this ques- 
 tion, “ He is about to love,” would be a jesting answer now, but 
 not then. It meant, “ He is taken up with loving.” 
 
 . 1153. Thou shalt, etc. : “You are likely to be proved false 
 rather than I”; and then Arcite rushes to the conclusion, 
 “ Nay, you are false, I tell you, utterly false.” 
 
 1155. par amour : with the love of man for woman. 
 
 1164. That : do you not know the saying of the old writer 
 (Boethius), that none shall give a lover any law? Now 
 change the last clause into, “Who shall give a lover any law ? ” 
 which, as implying the answer no, has the same meaning as the 
 assertion, and you see how Chaucer can use “that” before 
 questions as well as before statements. 
 
 1167. decree : laws and decrees made by men. 
 
 1168. in ech degree : in every class. 
 
 1171. she : the loved woman. 
 
 1198-1200. olde bokes seyn : this incident seems to have 
 been suggested to Chaucer by a passage in The Bomance of the 
 Bose. The friendship of the mythical heroes Theseus and Piri- 
 
Page 53] 
 
 THE KNIGHT’S TALE 
 
 263 
 
 thous was famous in antiquity, and the legends about them were 
 distorted and amplified in the Middle Ages. 
 
 1201. nat to write : this “write” is an oversight of Chau- 
 cer’s ; he forgot that the knight was telling the story. 
 
 1222. To sleen himself . . . prively : to slay himself un- 
 observed. 
 
 1225. me shape : now (it) is (to) me appointed. 
 
 1247. creature: “creature” is any created thing living or 
 without life. All things were supposed to be made of four ele- 
 ments, and these, curiously enough, were fire, water, earth, air, 
 not one of which is included among the eighty or more elements 
 of the modern chemist. 
 
 1259, matere : in this matter of thinking that we know better 
 than God’s providence. 
 
 1261. mous : “drunk as a mouse,” “drunk as a rat,” 
 “ blind as a mole,” “ silly as a goose,” “ dead as a door nail,” 
 are phrases of a type that the taste of some moderns rejects. 
 They are often used with no thought of the thing named in them 
 — mere phrases that have come down to us from a remote 
 past. 
 
 1279. shines grete : the very fetters on his great shins were 
 wet with his bitter, salt tears. We might regard- the mention of 
 his shins and the incidental suggestion of their size as irrelevant ; 
 but then many a person has read all that precedes this passage 
 without having any representation in his mind of Palamon and 
 his surroundings. He will try after this to see things as Chaucer 
 meant they should be seen. 
 
 1283. at thy large : at large, unrestrained. 
 
 1284. yevest litel charge of : care little for. 
 
 1287. sharpe : to make a sharp war. We have lost this way 
 of speaking. Who will try to turn a few sentences of hv* own 
 into Chaucer’s English ? 
 
264 NOTES [Page 54 
 
 1301-1302. lyk was to biholde : he was like the box tree 
 or dead and cold ashes to look on. 
 
 1307. holde : what more is mankind considered by you ? 
 
 1317. to letten of his wille : to control his desires. 
 
 1343. to ben deed : to die. 
 
 1344. upon his heed : to lose his head if he returned. 
 
 1374-1376. lyk manye : one point of difference between the 
 
 fourteenth and the twentieth century which this passage illus- 
 trates seems worth mentioning. Mania was less withdrawn- 
 from the public gaze, and many might know how it looked; 
 but the learned even could give no better explanation in the 
 lack of anatomy, and physiology, and chemistry. In the 
 knowledge of what can be perceived and easily verified they 
 were perhaps better off than we ; but in matters that can be 
 known only by inferences tested by other inferences we have 
 made great gains. None could prove the fanciful explanation 
 that mania was caused by the melancholic humor in one of the 
 three cells of the brain, — the seat of imagination. 
 
 1385. Him thoughte : the dream was an artistic device, a 
 literary form indeed ; but this was only because it had previ- 
 ously been, and for that matter was still, considered of impor- 
 tance in the actual affairs of life. 
 
 1389. took keep : as he (Arcite) noticed. 
 
 1390. took his sleep : slept. Chaucer seems to think in 
 
 phrases not words, and as little to avoid the repetition of the 
 same word in different phrases as of the same syllable in dif- 
 ferent words. * 
 
 1402. It came suddenly (to) him (that is) in (to) his mind. 
 
 1416. what so men wol devise : whatever one thinks of 
 for him to do. 
 
 1419. The which that : who. 
 
 1420. aspye: he had been able to discover in respect of 
 
Page 62] 
 
 THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 265 
 
 every servant which one served her. Compare u To knowe with 
 which degree of the zodiac that the mone ariseth.” — Astrolabe, 
 and “That litel wiste how ny that was his care.” — Line 1489. 
 
 1431. gentil of condicioun : refined in manner. 
 
 1448. hath derre : “holds dearer,” but our idiom requires 
 “ held dearer.” 
 
 1453. Worn out what with woe and (what) with distress. 
 
 1460. am not I : “It is not I,” or “ I am not the one.” 
 
 1466. shal be : this line serves to explain the meaning of' 
 “ destinee.” 
 
 1489. ny that : omit “ that ” in translating. 
 
 1490. in the snare : you must have noticed before this that 
 “in” frequently equals “into.” 
 
 1491. messager of day: “the herald of the morn.” — 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 1494. This line resembles one of Dante’s, but the setting is 
 very different. 
 
 “ The beauteous planet, that to love incites, 
 
 Was making all the orient to laugh, 
 
 Veiling the Fishes that were in her escort.” 
 
 — Purg. I, 20, Longfellow’s Translation. 
 
 1495. “ Stremes ” maybe translated “beams” or “rays,” 
 lut it does not mean “beams” or “rays.” Each suggests a 
 different aspect of one thing ; but, after all, no phrases can 
 match the light itself, and the poet himself may have felt joy 
 of the morn that we can know nothing of. 
 
 1501. his desyr: his mind on the object of his desire. 
 
 1504. were it : it might be. 
 
 1509. ageyn the sonne shene : turned toward the bright 
 sun. 
 
 1521. many yeres : many years ago (many years being gone 
 since). 
 
266 NOTES [Page 62 
 
 1522, 1524. These lines have been shown by their occurrence 
 elsewhere to have been common proverbs. 
 
 1534-1539. Friday means by derivation the day of love, as the 
 equivalent French vendredi ( veneris dies ) also does. It is sel- 
 dom like all the rest of the week, being either fairer or fouler. 
 
 1566. The expression seems homely, and the thought is com- 
 mon in fact and in fiction that death is certain, and that death 
 has been appointed by a power able to enforce its decrees. But 
 homely expressions and obvious truths are closely linked with 
 grand aspects of life and imagination. In the past, spinning and 
 weaving were nearer to all households, both rich and poor, than 
 to-day. 
 
 “ Some winter night, shut snugly in 
 Beside the fagot in the hall, 
 
 Methinks I see you sit and spin, 
 
 Surrounded by your maidens all.” — Ronsard. 
 
 The minds of men were once fuller of images of belief or 
 fancy, majestic beings in some remote unknown shaping at the 
 loom of time the destinies of men. 
 
 “ O fatal sustren, which, er any clooth 
 Me shapen was, my destine me sponne.” 
 
 — Chaucer’s Troilus. 
 
 1589. She shall be loved by me alone, and by no one else. 
 
 1603. Without encountering death at my hand. 
 
 1614. chees : is this “ I wol chees ” or u chees thou” ? 
 
 1622. to borwe : in pledge. 
 
 1623. out of alle : without any, utterly devoid of. 
 
 1625. sooth is seyd : this introduces a quotation which 
 Professor Skeat has traced to Jean de Meung and to Ovid. 
 
 '* Should such a man, too fond to rule alone, 
 
 Bear, like the Turk, no brother near the throne.” 
 
 — Pope’s Prologue to the Satires. 
 
Page 72] 
 
 THE KNIGHT’S TALE 
 
 267 
 
 1626. his thankes : of his own free will. 
 
 1642, 1643. And (the leoun) breketh . . . and (the hunter) 
 thinketh. 
 
 1648. knewe : when near enough to recognize each other. 
 
 1650. rehersing: without any new word or repetition of 
 their former words. 
 
 1660. Who could help supposing that so fierce a struggle 
 would soon end in the death of both ? 
 
 1665. (Destiny executes) the things which God has foreseen. 
 The foreseeing is expressed twice in the line. 
 
 1673. This I think of in connection with Theseus. Theseus 
 reminds me of this. 
 
 1697. Under the sonne : I had surmised that this might 
 mean “ he had the sun in his favor,” “ could see without being 
 seen,” “ had the sun at his back ” ; but others interpret, “ into 
 the east,” so that the combatants appeared between him and 
 the sun. Other meanings have been suggested, and yet “ to 
 look under the sun ” seems to have been written without suspi- 
 cion that any could fail to understand it. Liddell links “ under 
 the sonne” with the line before. 
 
 1707. up peyne of : on pain of. 
 
 1713. a listes : listes is plural in form, but here singular in 
 construction. 
 
 1715. The meaning is plain ; the construction may be sug- 
 gested by, How needs (it) more words ? 
 
 1736. We say, “ It is I that love.” Notice that the construc- 
 tion was once, “ It am I that loves.” 
 
 1755. And (they) sawe. 
 
 1761. Apparently a proverbial saying, and, like noblesse 
 oblige , used to exhort or command. “ If you are noble-born 
 (gentil), you should show pity,” or “You have shown pity, you 
 must be noble-born.” The line is found in Chaucer four times. 
 
268 
 
 NOTES 
 
 [Page 73 
 
 1780. can : knows. 
 
 1781. after oon : alike, by the same rule. 
 
 1785 . benedicite : pronounced bendiste even here, if the A ! 
 is emphasized and prolonged. 
 
 1799. What fool like a lover ? 
 
 “ To be wise and eek in love 
 Is granted scarce to gods above.” 
 
 It might mean, “Who is permitted to be a fool if a lover is 
 not ? ” that is, “ In a lover all follies must be overlooked.” 
 
 1808. Knows as much her obligation to them as to me. 
 “^Thank” is used here as in “What thank have ye?” 
 
 1814. was I oon: I was “number one,” was first in the 
 service of love. 
 
 1827. of lordshipe and of mercy preyde : prayed him “ to 
 be their lord, and to be merciful.” 
 
 1829. To speke of : in respect of. 
 
 1837-1838. That one of you, whether he likes it or not, must 
 find something better to do than seek her hand ; whistling in an 
 ivy leaf would be even more useful. 
 
 1850. fer ne ner : (neither) farther nor nearer, neither more 
 nor less. 
 
 1852. at alle rightes : in all respects. 
 
 1905. Doon make : caused (people) to make. 
 
 1913. don wrought : caused (to be) wrought. 
 
 1920. “ Broken sleep ” and “ cold sighs ” may be represented 
 m painting, indirectly, by the aspects of the persons who wake 
 and sigh. 
 
 1925 ff. These are usually spoken of as abstract qualities per- 
 sonified. They are such for us ; they were perhaps for Chaucer. 
 They were not so to begin with. Before hope was an abstract 
 quality it was a person, a being, that possessed each person 
 
Page 80] 
 
 THE KNIGHT’S TALE 
 
 269 
 
 that hoped, and had those looks and ways that characterize 
 hQpeful persons. Hope was the composite picture, as it were, 
 generated in the mind by the sight of many hopeful persons, or 
 rather the reality which it was believed that picture in the mind 
 necessarily implied. This reality could be described and painted, 
 and continued to be described and painted, long after it had 
 faded from the minds of men, and had ceased to be believed in, — 
 so entirely forgotten, indeed, has it become that many are unable 
 to recall it. Realism, mysticism, superstitions, arts, the gender- 
 forms of language, had their origins in such mental growths 
 as these. This is a hard saying, and is out of place here, if it 
 does not make you see these beings which earlier men saw and 
 dreamed of, and believed they might some day meet face to face. 
 
 1934. By ordre : in order. 
 
 1941. of yore agon : (of) years ago. 
 
 1954. And though : “and yet” gives the meaning, as does 
 “even though” ; but the earlier meaning of “and though” is 
 better seen in “if (and, an) I could reckon a thousand, yet 
 (though) one or two would suffice.” 
 
 1961. wel smellinge : remember that this is a picture. See 
 line 1938. 
 
 “ Why, mark ! 
 
 Even when I told the play and got the praise, 
 
 There spoke up a brisk little somebody, 
 
 Critic and whippersnapper, in a rage 
 
 To set things right : ‘ The girl departs from truth ! 
 
 Pretends she saw what was not to be seen, 
 
 Making the mask of the actor move, forsooth! 
 
 “ Then a fear flitted o’er the wife’s white face,” 
 
 “Then frowned the father,” “ then the husband shook,” 
 
 “ Then from the festal forehead slipped each spray, 
 
 “ And the heroic mouth’s gay grace was gone ; ” 
 
 As she had seen each naked fleshly face, 
 
270 
 
 NOTES 
 
 [Page 81 
 
 And not the merely painted mask it wore ! ’ 
 
 Well, is the explanation difficult? 
 
 What’s poetry except a power that makes? 
 
 And, speaking to one sense, inspires the rest, 
 
 Pressing them all into its service ; so 
 
 That who sees painting, seems to hear as well 
 
 The speech that’s proper for the painted mouth ; 
 
 And who hears music, feels his solitude 
 Peopled at once — for how count heart beats plain 
 Unless a company with hearts which beat, 
 
 Come close to the musician seen or no ? 
 
 And who receives true verse at eye or ear, 
 
 Takes in (with verse) time, place, and person, too, 
 
 So, links each sense on to its sister-sense, 
 
 Grace-like : and what if but one sense of three 
 Front you at once ? The sidelong pair conceive 
 Through faintest touch of finest finger-tips, — 
 
 Hear, see, and feel in faith’s simplicity, 
 
 Alike, what one was sole recipient of : 
 
 Who hears the poem, therefore, sees the play.” 
 
 — Browning’s BalaustiorC s Adventure. 
 
 1977. If the sound of a line ever echoes the sense, this line was 
 felt by Chaucer to be in keeping with the scene. In the modern 
 pronunciation i^ has no longer any special appropriateness. 
 
 1987. Chaucer is not describing what he had seen, nor what 
 he had invented or discovered in the revelations of his own 
 imagination ; he is reproducing what he had read in Statius, if 
 not translating with the book before him. As some think, he is 
 even mistranslating, and “northern light” results from the 
 misapprehension of adversum Phoebi jubar, “the beam of ad- 
 verse Phoebus.” Still it may mean here to Chaucer the Aurora 
 Borealis. Meteoric and celestial phenomena were not much dis- 
 tinguished from each other, and sunsets, auroras, moonshine, 
 
Page 83] 
 
 THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 271 
 
 and starlight were all attributed to the sun and confounded 
 together, so that the infrequent mention or description of the 
 aurora by mediaeval writers need not make us suppose that 
 Chaucer was not thinking of it, although it was not then dis- 
 entangled from other facts and given a name as now. 
 
 1997-1998. “The cruel Ire” and “the pale Dread” would 
 be now “ cruel Ire ” and “ pale Dread.” Anger and dread are 
 as real as pikepurs. They might not be found together in 
 modern works. Persons and qualities seem to us such differ- 
 ent things. 
 
 2005-2008. The first two lines describe the suicide, with throat 
 cut, perhaps ; the last two, the victim of a murder, like that of 
 Sisera by Jael. (Judges iv. 17-22.) Pause somewhat after 
 “heer ” in reading. 
 
 2017. hoppesteres : dancing on the wave, implying that the 
 ships were burned at sea, so that none could escape. The ques- 
 tion is what Chaucer intended the word to mean, though there 
 is little doubt that he read or thought he read ballatrici (danc- 
 ing) in Boccaccio, where we find le navi bellatrici (fighting). 
 
 2021. Marte : Mars was the name of the war-god and of a 
 planet. To the influence of this planet or of its position our 
 ancestors ascribed many lesser woes than are recounted here. 
 Cooks, carters, barbers, butchers, smiths — none so lowly as to 
 be forgotten by the “ infortune of Marte.” 
 
 2029. over his heed: “a tyraunt that was king of Sisile 
 that had assayed the peril of his estat, shewede by similitude the 
 dredes of reaumes by gastnesse of a swerd that heng over the 
 heved of his familier.” — Boethius, Chaucer's Translation. 
 The story of the sword of Damocles. 
 
 2035. hir deeth ... by manasinge of Mars : this was “ de- 
 peynted ther-biforn by figure,” that is, by some symbol or 
 picture. 
 
272 NOTES [ Pa g e 8S 
 
 2039. Perhaps the u oon ensample” is this very story itself 
 of Palamon and Arcite. 
 
 2045. In geomancy (earth-divination) sixteen figures could 
 be made by rule with dots on the ground. One of these was 
 called Puella ; another, Rubeus. The former implied the 
 planet Venus ; the latter, Mars. Professor Skeat explained 
 the matter in The Academy, March 2, 1889. 
 
 2059. lode-sterre : Callisto was not made the lodestar, at 
 least according to the accounts we have in Ovid of these trans- 
 formations. 
 
 2103. of hir hond : in respect of skill and strength. 
 
 2125. There is nothing that we have now that they did not 
 have as well. 
 
 2141-2142. nayles : a bearskin with yellow claws. 
 
 2160. cloth of Tars : a kind of silk. 
 
 2187. alle and some : collectively and individually, one and 
 all. 
 
 2217. hir houre : the one hundred and sixty-eight hours in 
 the week from sunrise on Sunday are divided into twenty-four 
 groups of seven hours each. Sol takes the first hour of each 
 group ; Venus, the second ; Mercury, the third ; Luna (Diana), 
 the fourth ; Saturn, the fifth ; Jupiter, the sixth ; Mars, the 
 seventh. This gives the second hour before sunrise on Monday 
 to Venus ; the first hour after sunrise to Diana ; the fourth hour 
 to Mars. Whoever wanted the good-will of a planet must 
 choose the right hour for every act that concerned that planet. 
 
 2238. I kepe nought of armes for to yelpe : i.e. care rather 
 for your favor than for glory. 
 
 2241. blowen goes with “ prys.” Cf. Tennyson’s — 
 
 “ As if the wind 
 
 Blew his own praises in his eyes.” 
 
Page 93] 
 
 THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 273 
 
 The three specifications that follow “axe not” are distinct 
 from one another, which is not always the case in Chaucer. 
 
 2245-2246. recche nat : I do not care whether I have victory 
 over them or they over me, except in so far as either may be bet- 
 ter for my purpose, namely, that of having my lady. 
 
 2271. The thridde houre inequal (from the time) that Pala- 
 mon, etc. : the hours we use are of equal length ; the hours 
 assigned to the planets were each the twelfth part of the day- 
 time or the night-time, and varied as these varied. 
 
 2273. I doubt whether Chaucer was thinking of any other 
 likeness here than that of time ; but if he was making a com- 
 parison, it was with the beautiful sun he was wont to see, and 
 not with the one we read about in astronomy books. Chaucer 
 lived before the sun went ninety million miles away, and be- 
 came eight hundred thousand miles in diameter. Such changes 
 of conception make many passages in Chaucer humorous to the 
 modern reader, which is unfortunate. 
 
 2281. It looks as if Boccaccio’s fu mundo (was clean) had 
 suggested to Chaucer fumando (smoking), and led him to en- 
 velop his Emily in clouds of incense, and to surround her with 
 tapestries and hangings of drapery. 
 
 2286. game : pleasure. 
 
 2287. He that means well would find nothing to blame. “ To * 
 the pure all things are pure.” It would really have been more 
 consistent with the character of a “ verray parfit gentil knight ” 
 to have omitted these reflections. 
 
 2288. it is good (for) a man (to) ben at his large seems 
 not to have here its usual meaning of being quite unconstrained, 
 but of not being constrained to occupy one’s self with details. 
 
 2294. thise bokes olde : one of these books has been shown 
 to be the Teseide of Boccaccio ; but Boccaccio’s name is not 
 found in the works of Chaucer. 
 
 T 
 
274 
 
 NOTES 
 
 [Page 93 
 
 2308. “Hunting” and “venerye” are words that came to 
 Chaucer from different sources, the Saxon and the Latin. It is 
 easy to fancy a difference of meaning, but hard to establish any. 
 
 2313. tho thre formes : see lines 2298-2299. 
 
 2367. The nexte houre of Mars folwinge this : the fourth 
 hour of the day. See lines 2217 and 2271. 
 
 2396. doth me : makes me endure all this woe. 
 
 2399. the place : see line 1862. 
 
 2405. do that : cause that I have victory. 
 
 2417. Such offerings of part were the earnest of the devo- 
 tion of the entire self to the God. By similar acts man had 
 bound himself to his fellow-man. The general use of writing 
 has tended to displace these methods of public acknowledgment 
 of our intentions, and to make us incapable of understanding 
 their former solemnity. 
 
 2451. agayn his kinde : against his nature, referring to the 
 Saturn of the astrologers, who was as different from either the 
 Saturn of the early Romans or the Saturn of the Roman poets 
 as the latter were from each other. Add to these the planet 
 Saturn, and you have a confusion from which poetry seeks no 
 release, however much science may protest. 
 
 “ The intelligible forms of ancient poets, 
 
 The fair humanities of old religion, 
 
 * * * * * * * 
 
 They live no longer in the faith of reason, 
 
 But still the heart doth need a language, still 
 Doth the old instinct bring back the old names ; 
 
 And to yon starry world they now are gone, 
 
 Spirits or gods that used to share the earth 
 With man as with their friend. ,, 
 
 — Schiller’s Wallenstein, Coleridge’s Translation. 
 
 2454. wide for to turne : Uranus and Neptune were not 
 
Page 109] 
 
 THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 275 
 
 known to the astrologers, and consequently Saturn was to them 
 the most distant and the slowest of the planets. 
 
 2519-2520. Translate the “he’s” by this one, that one, that 
 other. 
 
 2614. He ... he : one . . . another. 
 
 2616. he him hurtleth : one overthrows another. 
 
 2621. Theseus causes them to rest (in order) to refresh them- 
 selves. “ Hem ” is used for 44 them” and for 44 themselves.” 
 
 2623-2624. The meaning of these two lines is so plain that 
 we see it might be more precisely expressed by supplying 44 each 
 has ” after 44 and.” 
 
 2628. hunte : see lines 1678, 2018. 
 
 2630-2632. There is (not) in Belmarie no lion that is hunted 
 or famished so fell nor so desirous of the blood, etc. 
 
 2641. he take : Palamon is taken. 
 
 2647. er he were take : before he (Palamon) was taken. 
 
 2651. by composicioun : in accordance with the terms of 
 the contest. See line 2554. 
 
 2673. Been in hir wele : are exultant. Arcite had lived 
 three years at the court of Theseus, and won the love of all. 
 See line 1432 ff. 
 
 2676. of his helm y-don : do off, or doff, take off. 
 
 2678. large place : you can easily make a sketch of the en- 
 closure from the description (1. 1885 ff.). It was built on the 
 spot where Palamon and Arcite had fought (1. 1862). Emily 
 is seated with the rest of the court on the south side where she 
 may see the combatants 44 under the sonne ” (to misapply, per- 
 haps, Chaucer’s phrase). Arcite spurs his horse from one end 
 to the other of the broad space (large place) between her seat 
 and the lists. 
 
 2683. And was al his chere, as in his herte : in reading 
 dwell on the first 44 his,” and pause before and after 44 as in his 
 
276 
 
 NOTES 
 
 [Page 109 
 
 herte.” u She was all his (his delight, his joy), as he imagined 
 in his heart.” But his imaginings are suddenly made vain. 
 Mars had given victory to his worshipper ; Mars could give 
 nothing more. 
 
 2696. corven : the “layneres” (1. 2504) were cut, not 
 unlaced. 
 
 2698. memorie : not simply conscious, but remembering the 
 great joy of the instant before. 
 
 2710. That . . . his brest-boon : whose breast-bone was 
 
 pierced. See line 2606. 
 
 2711. othere woundes : we would say, u for broken armes 
 
 and other woundes.” 
 
 2713. save : men believed that diseased and maimed bodies 
 could be cured by certain phrases, written, spoken, or chanted, 
 either where the sufferer was or elsewhere. They also believed 
 that a remedy for many bodily ills was found in sage, not to 
 mention a multitude of other herbs. 
 
 2719. disconfitinge : what took place there was not consid- 
 ered a defeat and disgrace, but merely a joust or tournament. 
 
 2731-2734. leet crye : Theseus bade proclaim that the vic- 
 tory belonged to one side as much as to the other. 
 
 2749-2751. vertu expulsyf: the animal virtue is placed in 
 the brain, and is here expulsive, or tends to expel the poison 
 (the corrupt blood) ; the natural virtue is placed in the liver, 
 and moves the blood through the veins. It appears that the 
 virtue animal could not get the poisonous blood away from the 
 virtue natural ; in other words, the corruption spread through 
 all the veins. 
 
 2760. to chirche : for burial. 
 
 2761. This al and som : this is al and som, the conclusion of 
 the whole matter is. 
 
 2762. For which (reason). 
 
Page 113] 
 
 THE KNIGHT'S TALE 
 
 277 
 
 2764. Seated at a desk we read with glossary and notes 
 amid scenes unlike those in which Chaucer wrote, more un- 
 like those in which the knight told his story. He has relieved 
 his fellow-riders of the tedium of his medical disquisition by a 
 playful remark, and now recalls their attention by the other- 
 wise superfluous “ as ye shul after here.” They thought for 
 a time they were listening to Arcite himself ; but just as the 
 tenderness of the vision became too sad to endure, the knight 
 is himself again, and in humorous wise disclaims theology as 
 he had previously renounced medicine. 
 
 2774. departing : severing of our companionship. 
 
 2779. The natural or artistic utterance of an emotion readily 
 affects the hearer, less often the reader, rarely the student who 
 has to scan and parse. This last has then to be told that this 
 grief expresses itself with repetitions of the same thought, often 
 of the same words. 
 
 “ Alone, alone, all, all alone, 
 
 Alone on the wide, wide sea! 
 
 And never a saint took pity on 
 My soul in agony.” 
 
 — Coleridge’s Ancient Mariner. 
 
 2791. that art : the art of love, the proper qualities and con- 
 duct of a perfect lover. 
 
 “ Love hath me taught no more of .his art, 
 
 But serve alway and stinte for no wo.” 
 
 — Chaucer’s Compleynt , line 42. 
 
 2792. So may Jupiter have some thought of my soul. 
 
 2796. ye shul been a wyf : you are destined to be a wife. 
 
 2809-2815. His spirit has changed its abode, and the knight 
 
 follows it no farther for three potent reasons, but prays that 
 Mars may guide the spirit to the place “ w T her divinistres writer* 
 that they (the spirits) dwelle.” 
 
278 
 
 NOTES 
 
 [Page 114 
 
 2874-2877. The white gloves, the green crown, the bright 
 sword, the bare face — all go with Arcite. Theseus laid Arcite 
 on the bier, and wept. 
 
 The Mss. have no punctuation ; the editions differ among 
 themselves. The variant (1. 2874), “Upon his hondes hadde 
 he gloves white,” may have arisen from not noting that this 
 line might be read with w T hat follows. 
 
 2885. passing: surpassing others in respect of weeping — 
 weeping more than the rest. 
 
 2888. degree : according to his rank, more rich than that of 
 humbler men. 
 
 2962. in no disjoynt : with no failure. 
 
 2977. Unwist of him : it being unknown to him or without 
 his knowledge. 
 
 2984. I do not know whether this means that his gaze was 
 fixed or ranged from one object to another. 
 
 2987. This line is contrasted with line 2995, “ the cause 
 above” (the heavens) with the “world adoun.” The curious 
 argumentation that follows has many a parallel, and grows 
 naturally out of certain mediaeval conceptions. Chaucer actu- 
 ally took it from certain passages in Boethius. Each planet was 
 embedded at one spot in a spherical, crystalline shell of its own, 
 the centre of which was the earth. The stars had a shell ali to 
 themselves. Outside of the shell in which the stars were set was 
 another shell, the primum mobile , Milton’s “First Moved,” 
 This mobile or thing movable requires a mover, who is God ; 
 but the thing itself keeps all the celestial machinery in motion 
 after that. This mechanical contrivance would fall all to pieces 
 if it were not held together by love. Contrast with the stable 
 heavens the unstable things of earth, where even oaks and 
 stones waste away, where all things change ; argal, we ought to 
 change with them, and turn our grief and mourning to joy. 
 
Page 127] THE NUN'S PRIEST'S TALE 
 
 279 
 
 3002. Only it pleases me to express my opinion. 
 
 3006. Think of anything you please ; you can always regard 
 it as a part of something else. But this whole is in its turn a 
 part of something else, and so on till you would attain the ulti- 
 mate real whole, “parfit and stable,” from which you would 
 say the “ corrumpable ” thing you started with was derived. 
 Some do not refuse the name of philosophy to such ideas. 
 
 3015. with-outen any lye : without doubt. 
 
 3028. That nedeth . . . He moot ben deed : that (it) is 
 necessary that he should die. 
 
 3036. prince : princeps , principium, beginning. Primus, 
 first, in time and in excellence of every kind. 
 
 3064. Can he hem thank ? See line 1808. 
 
 3084. kinges brother sone : king’s brother’s son. Brother 
 is the Old English genitive which was already beginning to be 
 replaced by the form brotheres or brothers, which we write 
 brother’s. 
 
 3089. Mercy ought to do more than what mere justice re- 
 quires. 
 
 THE NUN’S PRIEST’S TALE 
 
 3957. The knight, with the sympathy of the company, begs 
 the monk to desist, and not to add another to the dozen or 
 more sad stories which he had told already. It seemed as if he 
 might go on forever. The subject was inexhaustible ; so, too, 
 was the monk. He had said : — 
 
 “ I wol biwayle in maner of tragedie 
 The harm of hem that stode in heigh degree, 
 
 And fillen so that there nas no remedie 
 To bringe hem out of hir adversitee ; 
 
280 
 
 NOTES 
 
 [Page 127 
 
 For certein, whan that fortune list to flee, 
 
 Ther may no man the course of hir withholde ; 
 
 Lat no man truste on blind prosperitee ; 
 
 Be war by thise ensamples trewe and olde.” 
 
 Lucifer, Adam, Samson, Hercules, Nero, and many more had 
 been passed in review with delightful disregard of the bounda- 
 ries between myth and history that we have been taught to 
 observe. 
 
 3972-3975. how “ Fortune etc.”: The host echoes the 
 words of the last stanza of the monk’s tale : — 
 
 “ Anhanged was Cresus, the proude king, 
 
 His royal trone mighte him not availle, — 
 
 Tragedie is noon other maner thing, 
 
 Ne can in singing crye ne biwaille 
 
 But for that fortune alway wol assaille 
 
 With unwar strook the regnes that been proude ; 
 
 For when men trusteth hir, than wol she faille 
 And covere hir brighte face with a cloude. ,, 
 
 3986. hevene : heaven’s. 
 
 3995. See Prologue, line 165, for the monk’s character. 
 
 4006. so moot I go : as sure as I am alive, so may I have the 
 use of my limbs, so may I thrive. 
 
 4022. hir halle : the “ narwe cotage ” had two rooms, called 
 here, with humorous exaggeration, bower and hall. There was 
 no chimney ; the smoke escaped through crevices. The live- 
 stock probably shared the hovel with the widow and her two 
 daughters. 
 
 4030. She had no gout to keep her from dancing. 
 
 4045-4046. His clock was the celestial equator which he 
 could see “in his mind’s eye,” as degree after degree of this 
 circle rose above the horizon. At all events, he crowed as each 
 fifteenth degree arose. 
 
Page 135] THE NUN'S PRIEST'S TALE 
 
 281 
 
 4069. Skeat has found the song this comes from, and cites 
 verse 4064 as an indication that Chaucer had the whole stanza 
 in mmd. 
 
 “ My lefe is faren in lond 
 Allas why is she so ? 
 
 And I am so sore bound 
 I may not com her to. 
 
 She hath my hert in hold 
 Wherever she ride or go, 
 
 With trew love a thousand-fold.” 
 
 4081. Shame : you really were asleep. There’s nothing here. 
 Shame on you for being so frightened. 
 
 4090. (That) was lyk an hound. 
 
 4118-4127. Por “ colera,” i.e. “choleric humor” and 
 “ humour of malencolye ” in line 4123, and “ othere humours” 
 in line 4127, see line 420. “Madamoysele Pertelote” is talk- 
 ing not after the manner of hens, but of contemporary physi- 
 cians. Quotations and references are given in the notes of 
 Tyrwhitt and Skeat. 
 
 4125. “ For fere of beres, or (that) develes wole him 
 take” is a change of construction not common or approved 
 in modern English. 
 
 4130. Catoun : Dionysius Cato is a name found in the title of 
 a popular book of the fourth century, containing maxims of 
 morality and rules of conduct. 
 
 4131. Make no account of dreams. 
 
 4133. as tak: so “as keep” in line 2302, “as sende” in 
 line 2317. 
 
 4145. “ Compleccioun ” is not the color of the face, but the 
 bodily constitution; here “ colerik,” or abounding in the chol- 
 eric humor. 
 
282 NOTES [Page 136 
 
 4166. mery : pleasant. Probably here in the sense of abun- 
 dant, flourishing. 
 
 4160. graunt mercy : grand merci , great thanks. 
 
 4172-4173. There is no need of any argument about it ; the 
 facts speak for themselves. 
 
 4174. gretteste auctour: Cicero in his work on Divi- 
 nation. An author unique among the greatest. See Stoffel, 
 Anglia , XXVII, 253. 
 
 4177. happed: it happened. 
 
 4179. streit of herbergage: such lack of lodgings. We 
 require in general that both clauses should be constructed 
 alike ; exact parallelism is frequently absent from the language 
 of Chaucer. His consciousness of the parts of speech did not 
 outweigh his sense that the words as they stood expressed what 
 he wanted to say. 
 
 4185. as it wolde falle : just as it happened. 
 
 4190. as in commune : the general direction that fortune 
 gives to the course of our lives is modified by choice or chance 
 or other powers. Fortune was originally a very solid being of 
 flesh and blood, capable of struggling against those who would 
 thwart her purpose. 
 
 4191. We have lost for the most part whatever distinction 
 existed between “ it was ” and “ it were ” ; we still say “if it 
 were,” but no longer “ before it were.” See line 2647. Many 
 now always say “if it was,” while others always say “if it 
 were,” even when the sense requires “if it was.” Such changes 
 as were going on in the past are going on now, and men cannot 
 cease changing their language. 
 
 4210. Do . . . arresten: this does not mean “do stop this 
 cart,” but “ cause the stopping of this cart,” “ have it stopped.” 
 
 4222. falle in suspecioun : to have suspicions. 
 
 4268. Chaucer could say “he mette,” “he dreamed,” oi 
 
Page 145] THE NUN'S PRIEST'S TALE 
 
 283 
 
 “him mette,” (it) dreamed to him, it seemed to him in his 
 dream. With either of these it was possible to join “ a wonder 
 dream.” agayn the day: toward morning, which was the 
 time for truest dreams. 
 
 “I had a vision when the night was late.” — Tennyson. 
 
 4294. at the same tide : at the same time. 
 
 4307. For traisoun : for fear of treason. 
 
 4344. I make no account of laxatives, do not value them. 
 
 4354. “ Woman is man’s confusion.” Chanticleer’s version 
 does not agree with this, but has the merit of being more pleas- 
 ing to Dame Partlet, who, poor woman, knew no Latin, and 
 should not have attempted to lecture her lord. 
 
 4365. a corn (that) lay. 
 
 4378. “ Bede then shows by what questions and answers they 
 proved out of Scripture that this world began at the vernal 
 equinox, or on the 21st of March, the moon then being full — 
 one of two 4 great lights.’ It was in spring, because it is said 
 the earth brought forth grass ; it was equinox, because light was 
 said to have been divided equally from darkness.” — Morley, 
 English Writers , II, 146. March was also considered the first 
 month of the year, which began not on the 1st but the 25th of 
 March. 
 
 4380-4385. Sin March bigan: “the month when God first 
 made man ” was complete, and thirty-two days more had passed, 
 and this brings us to the 3d of May. The sun had traversed in 
 his journey from west to east twenty-one degrees of Taurus, and 
 this again indicates the 3d of May. So grand an event as the 
 fulfilment of Chanticleer’s dream, with his justification of his 
 forebodings, cannot be fitly dated in the phrase of tradesmen 
 and bookkeepers. 
 
 4397-4399. These verses should be read with grave face and 
 
284 
 
 NOTES 
 
 [Page 145 
 
 in solemn tone, and if you do not feel the full force of Chaucer’s 
 suggestion that “some rethor” might take for a text the muta- 
 bility of human affairs, you need more experience either of life 
 or of Chaucer. 
 
 4401. al so trewe : quite as true. 
 
 4407. forn-cast : foreordained by the contrivance of the 
 powers on high. 
 
 4424-4440. These questions of “ fate, free will, foreknowl- 
 edge absolute ” bulked large in Chaucer’s mind. His transla- 
 tion of Boethius and the reflections that interrupt the course 
 even of his lighter poems show his preoccupation with those 
 great interests of the Middle Ages, for he does not exaggerate 
 when he says : — 
 
 “ That in scole is greet altercacioun 
 In this matere, aud greet disputisoun, 
 
 And hath been of an hundred thousand men.” 
 
 Sometimes, however, he seems to be laughing at this over- 
 strain on human wits, and he is unable to explain on the prin- 
 ciples of this high philosophj 7, how the purpose of a dream could 
 be thwarted by the “cold counsel ” of a woman. But here he 
 checks himself again. “ Is their counsel really cold ? Authors 
 say so, the cock says so, but I can conjecture no harm of any 
 woman.” 
 
 4430. bulte it to the bren: sift till bran and grain are 
 entirely separated. 
 
 4433 ff. There are three questions Chaucer “wol not han to 
 do of,” nor can I. Does absolute foreknowledge constrain (1) 
 by simple necessity, or (2) not at all, or (3) by conditional 
 necessity ? 
 
 4487. He must have entertained himself very agreeably with 
 them. 
 
Page 149] THE NUN’S PRIEST’S TALE 
 
 285 
 
 4493. of herte : he sang with all his heart. 
 
 4503. The cock refrained from crowing, and did not wake up 
 the young man in time for his ordination. 
 
 4507 ff. No comparison between the wisdom and discretion 
 of your father and the subtlety of him, i.e. the hero in Daun 
 Burnel the Asse. The “of” is somewhat displaced ; the mean- 
 ing would have been expressed by “ of him the subtiltee.” 
 
 4513. “Man hath ” and “ men hath ” were both used in the 
 sense of one has. “ Men” is in such use not a plural, but a 
 worn form of “ man,” which has ceased to call to mind a human 
 being or a*n adult male, and is read here “ as one that could,” 
 etc. 
 
 4519. Read Ecclesiasticus on flattery. 
 
 4549. The beginning of title or first line often denoted the 
 book. JEneidos Libri XII , gave the name Eneydos to what 
 we call the jEneid. The passage in which Pyrrhus with his 
 drawn sword appears is familiar to any one who has read 
 Vergil, JEneidos Liber II. 
 
 4545 f. This comparison of great things with small, the alarm 
 of the hens with the terror of women at the burning of Troy, 
 Rome, and Carthage, is a form of humor that manifests itself 
 here and there even in our time. 
 
 4572. many another man : many a man besides. 
 
 4584 f.’ The Flemings were foreigners, if not “ foreign devils ” 
 to Jack Straw’s followers in 1381. 
 
 4635. “My Lord the Bishop,” or some such addition; per- 
 haps the Archbishop of Canterbury from 1381 to 1396, William 
 Courtenay. 
 
PROPER NAMES 
 
 Adoun, Adonis, 2224. Venus loved him in vain, and mourned 
 his untimely death. 
 
 Alisaundre, Alexandria in Egypt, 61. It was won by Pierre 
 de Lusignan in 1365. 
 
 Amadrides, Hamadryades, 2928. To the ancient Greeks they 
 were nymphs whose life depended on that of their trees. 
 
 Amazones, Amazons, 880. The Greeks of the Heroic Age 
 frequently battled with this race of women that dwelled 
 about the Black Sea. 
 
 Amphioun, Amphion, 1546. In the Heroic Age he made him- 
 self king of Thebes in Boeotia. 
 
 Antonius, Mark Antony, 2032. He killed himself at Alexan- 
 dria, 30 b.c. 
 
 Arclta, 1013 ; Arcita, 2761 ; Arclte, 1031 ; Arcite, 1344, 
 Arcite. This Theban knight first appears in the Teseide 
 of Boccaccio. 
 
 Argus, Argus, 1390. He had a hundred eyes, was set to guard 
 Io, was charmed to sleep, and slain by Mercury. 
 
 Aristotle, Aristotle, 295. This Grecian philosopher (384- 
 322 b.c.) ruled the spirits of men in the centuries that 
 preceded the Renaissance. 
 
 Artoys, Artois, 86. Nearly the modern Pas-de-Calais in North- 
 ern France, a province of ancient France ; in Chaucer’s 
 time, a countship. 
 
 Atthalante, Atalanta, 2070. She shared with Meleager in the 
 
 287 
 
288 
 
 PROPER NAMES 
 
 hunt for the Caledonian boar, and became unwittingly the 
 cause of Meleager’s death. 
 
 Atthenes, Athens in Greece, 861 ; Athenians, 880. 
 
 Attheon, Actseon, 2065. He saw Diana bathing, and was 
 changed by her into a stag and torn in pieces by his own 
 dogs. 
 
 Austin, St. Augustine, 187. From the works of this greatest 
 of the Latin Fathers (354-430) rules were deduced that 
 were adopted by as many as thirty monastic fraternities. 
 
 Averrois, Averroes, 433. This Spanish-Arabian philosopher 
 (1126-1198) was famed not only for medical works, but for 
 works on law, mathematics, etc., and particularly for a 
 commentary on Aristotle. 
 
 Avicen, Avicenna, 432. The medical works of this Arabian 
 philosopher (980-1037) were, in a Latin translation, used 
 in European schools till 1700. 
 
 Baldeswelle, Baldeswell in Norfolk, 620. 
 
 Bathe, Bath in Somersetshire, 445. 
 
 Belle, Bell, inn in Southwark, 719. 
 
 Belmarye, Benmarin, 57. The latter is Froissart’s name for 
 this Moorish kingdom in Northern Africa ; others called it 
 Balmeryne and Belmore. 
 
 Beneit, Benedict, 173. This Italian monk (480-543) prescribed 
 to his followers the observance of certain times for manual 
 and mental labor as well as for their religious duties. 
 
 Berwik, Berwick- on-Tweed in Northumberland, 692. 
 
 Boece, Boethius, 4432. This Roman philosopher (475-524) 
 held high position in the state and was charged with treason 
 and put to death. He wrote De Consolatione Philoso- 
 phies, which Chaucer translated. 
 
 Boloigne, Boulogne in France, 465. 
 
PROPER NAMES 
 
 289 
 
 Bradwardyn, Bradwardine, 4432. This English theologian 
 and mathematician (1290-1349) was rightly called Doctor 
 Profundus. * 
 
 Britayne, Brittany, 409. The great northwestern peninsula of 
 France was one of those independent duchies whose union 
 formed France. 
 
 Burdeux, Bordeaux in Southwestern France, 397. 
 
 Burnel, Brunellus, 4502. Like Reynard the Fox or Bruin the 
 Bear, is Brunell (Browny) the Ass. 
 
 Cadme, Cadmus, 1546. Thebes in Bceotia was reputed to have 
 been founded by this Tyrian. 
 
 Calistopee, Callisto, 2056. She incurred the wrath of the 
 chaste Diana and was changed into a bear ; on the point 
 of being slain, she was transformed by Jupiter into the 
 constellation Ursa Major, or, according to Chaucer, into 
 the lodestar, which is in Ursa Minor. 
 
 Cappaneus, Capaneus, 932. This one of the seven heroes who 
 marched from Argos against Thebes was struck by Jupiter 
 with lightning. A different legend from that followed by 
 Chaucer makes his wife to have flung herself intc the 
 flames and to have perished. 
 
 Cartage, Carthage, in Northern Africa, 404. 
 
 Catoun, Dionysius Cato, 4161. Disticha de Moribus aaFilium , 
 of which he was reputed author, was popular in the 
 Middle Ages, and was translated into French and English. 
 
 Caunterbury, Canterbury in Kent, 16. 
 
 Chauntecleer, Chanticleer, 4039. Compare like names for 
 other animals than the cock : Reynard, Bruin, etc. 
 
 Chepe, Cheapside in London, 754. 
 
 Cipioun, Scipio Africanus the Younger, 4314. This Roman 
 general (185-129 b.c.) appears in Cicero’s De Republics 
 
 u 
 
290 
 
 PROPER NAMES 
 
 relating a dream of moral import, on which Macrobius 
 wrote a commentary. 
 
 Cither ea, Venus, 2215. She has the name Cytherea from the 
 island Cythera or from a Cretan town of that name. 
 
 Colle, name of a dog, 4573. 
 
 Coloigne, Cologne, 466. Many pilgrims resorted thither to 
 the relics, among which are the bones of the Three Wise 
 Men of the East. 
 
 Constantyn, Constantine the African, 433. He was born in 
 Carthage, studied in Babylon, taught medicine at Salerno, 
 translated from Greek and Arabic, died in 1087. 
 
 Or eon, Creon, 938. He ruled Thebes after the exile of CEdipus, 
 destroyed the Argive kings that assailed him, and was in 
 turn attacked and slain by Theseus, in Chaucer’s version. 
 
 Cresus, Croesus, 1946. King of Lydia (560 b.c.); he was cap- 
 tured by Cyrus, 546 b.c. 
 
 Crete, Crete, 980. This Grecian island in the Mediterranean 
 is famous in legend and history, while the buried cities, 
 recently unearthed, antedate both. In Chaucer’s time it 
 belonged to Venice. 
 
 Damascien, Johannes Damascenus, 433. John of Damascus, 
 theologian and father of the Eastern church, died about 760. 
 
 Dane, Daphne, 2062. She was beloved by Apollo and changed 
 into a laurel. 
 
 Deiscorides, Dioscorides, 430. A Greek physician of the 
 second century a.d. 
 
 Dertemouthe, Dartmouth, 389. This town of Devonshire at 
 the mouth of the Dart was an important seaport in the 
 Middle Ages. 
 
 Diane, Diana, 1682. This Italian divinity was associated in 
 some way with the moon, chastity, hunting, and later with 
 the Greek Artemis. 
 
PROPER NAMES 
 
 291 
 
 Ecclesiaste, Ecclesiasticus, 4519. This is not Ecclesiastes, 
 but a non-canonical book of the Old Testament. 
 
 Ector, Hector, 2832. This son of Priam and husband of An- 
 dromache was slain by Achilles, who gave up the dead 
 body to the Trojans at the prayer of the father. 
 
 Egeus, iEgeus, 2838. In a Greek legend iEgeus, the father of 
 Theseus, supposing his son to have been devoured by the 
 Minotaur, threw himself into sea. 
 
 Emelye and Emelya, Emily, 871, 1077. 
 
 Eney dos, iEneid, 4549. ‘ ‘ As seith us JEneidos liber secundus ’ v 
 
 would be the full form. 
 
 Engelond, England, 16. 
 
 Epicurus, Epicurus, 336. This Greek philosopher (342-270 b.c.) 
 got a bad name by teaching that no one ought to make 
 pain the aim of action. 
 
 Esculapius, JEsculapius, 429. The fabled son of Apollo and 
 god of physicians appears in Chaucer among the medical 
 authorities of the Middle Ages. 
 
 Femenye, country of the Amazons, 866. 
 
 Finister e, Cape Einisterre, in Northwest Spain, 408. 
 
 Flaundres, Flanders, 86. To Chaucer this name meant a 
 country which included the modern Flanders and consider- 
 ably more. 
 
 Flaundrish, Flemish, 272. 
 
 Fleming, Flemish resident of England, 4586. 
 
 Galgopheye, Gargaphia, 2626. The former may be the same 
 as the latter, and the latter is only known as the place 
 in which, according to Ovid, Actseon was torn by his 
 hounds. 
 
 Galice, Galicia, 466. To this province in Northwestern Spain 
 
292 
 
 PROPER NAMES 
 
 pilgrims once flocked to visit the shrine of St. James of 
 Compostella. 
 
 Galien, Galen, 431. This Greek physician and philosopher 
 (130-200 a.d.) left numerous works and was a high authority 
 in medicine. 
 
 Gatesden, John Gatisden, 434. He was a distinguished physi- 
 cian of Oxford not long before the birth of Chaucer. 
 
 Gaufred, Geoffrey de Vinsauf, 4537. He was an Englishman, 
 flourished in the twelfth century, and wrote in Latin Nova 
 Poetria. He thought he was a poet and could teach 
 others by his example to be poets too. 
 
 Gaunt, Ghent, in East Flanders, 448. 
 
 Genilon, Ganelon, 4417. One of the twelve peers of Charle- 
 magne ; he caused by his treachery the death of Roland and 
 the defeat at Roncesvalles. 
 
 Gerland, Garland, 4573. The name of a dog. 
 
 Gilbertyn, Gilbertine, 434. He has been identified with Gil- 
 bertus Anglicus. 
 
 Gootlond, Gottland, 408. Few voyagers went farther north 
 than this island in the Baltic. 
 
 Grece, Greece, 962. 
 
 Grek, Greek, 2899. 
 
 Grete See, Mediterranean, 59. 
 
 Haly, Haly, 431. An Arabian physician and astronomer of 
 the twelfth century. 
 
 Hasdrubal, Hasdrubal, 4553. He was king of Carthage when 
 it was burnt by the Romans, 146 b.c. 
 
 Hereos, Eros, 1374. This Greek word for love and for the 
 love-god is here used of the despondency of love. 
 
 Huberd, Hubert, 269. 
 
 Hulle, Hull in Yorkshire, 404. This had become an important 
 port in the thirteenth century. 
 
PROPER NAMES 
 
 293 
 
 Ilioun, Ilion, 4546. This citadel of Troy was the one Chaucer 
 had read about in Vergil. 
 
 Inde, India, 2156. Chaucer’s Inde is of course not the definite 
 India of our atlas or globe ; but one should know that 
 traders, travellers, and missionaries had revealed to Europe 
 the wonderful civilizations of Asia, that in 1306 Asia had a 
 Christian bishop, and in 1328 Jourdain de Severac was 
 made bishop of Collam in India. 
 
 Ipolita, Hippolyte, 868. Nothing need be added to what is 
 contained in the text, except that there are many varia- 
 tions in her story which may be found at least in part in 
 any classical dictionary. 
 
 Jakke Straw, Jack Straw, 4584. A leader in the peasant in- 
 surrection of 1381. 
 
 Jerusalem, Jerusalem, 463. 
 
 Jove, Jupiter, 2222. 
 
 Julian, St. Julian, 340. His legend may be found in Mrs. 
 Jameson’s Sacred and Legendary Art. 
 
 Kenelm, St. Kenelm, 4300. At the age of seven, becoming 
 king of the Mercians (821), Cenhelm was murdered at the 
 command of his sister under whose tutelage he was. He 
 had dreamed that he was changed into a bird and flew to 
 heaven from the top of a tree bright with candles, when it 
 was felled by a friend. 
 
 Kenulphus, Kenulphus, 4301. This is the Latinized form of 
 the name of .Cenwulf, king of Mercia from 796 to 819. 
 
 Lettow, Lithuania, 54. This grand-duchy afforded a fine field 
 for arms. It fought with Poles, Russians, and Teutonic 
 knights. It was finally Christianized under its duke Jagello, 
 
294 
 
 PROPER NAMES 
 
 who ascended the throne of Poland in 1386. There are 
 still Lithuanians, but no Lithuania. 
 
 London, London, 382. 
 
 Loy, St. Eligius, 120. St. Eloi (588-659) was a humble saint, a 
 layman who helped the poor, a goldsmith whose work pleased 
 kings ; but for all that he was made bishop of Noyon. 
 
 Lucina, Lucina, 2085. She was invoked by women in labor ; 
 the light-bringer, she was later identified with Diana. 
 
 Lyde, Lydia, 4328. The Lydian empire in Asia Minor came 
 to an end with the conquest of Croesus by Cyrus, 546 b.c. 
 
 Lyeys (Lay as in Froissart), Ayas, 58. This place was won 
 from the Turks by Pierre of Lusignan about 1367. It is 
 near Adana in Asia Minor. 
 
 Lygurge, Lycurgus, 2129. Lycurgus, a king of Thrace in myth, 
 need not be identified with this king of Thrace in romance. 
 
 Macrobeus, Macrobius, 4313. This Roman grammarian (fifth 
 century) has left a commentary on Cicero’s Dream of 
 Scipio and a collection of dialogues on multifarious topics. 
 
 Malkin, name of a servant girl, 4574. 
 
 Malle, Moll, 4021. Here the name of a sheep. 
 
 Mars, Mars, 975. Mars had been among the Romans a great 
 warrior, the ideal warrior, the god of warriors. What an 
 on-gazer might mistake for the worship of Mars still goes 
 on in the delight of men in representations of him in art. 
 Could Chaucer believe that any such being ever had existed? 
 The Mars that he could see in the sky, the wandering star, 
 the red planet — you would search Chaucer’s works in 
 vain to find any hint of his guesses about its nature. As 
 for his influence on human affairs, with many things that 
 astrologers said about it Chaucer expressly states that he 
 did not agree. 
 
PROPER NAMES 
 
 295 
 
 Marte, Mars, 2021. 
 
 Maudelayne, Magdalen, 410. Here the name of a ship. 
 
 Maure, St. Maure, 173. He was a disciple of St. Benedict, 
 founded, it was said, a Benedictine abbey in France in 
 543. 
 
 Meleagre, Meleager, 2071. He gave to Atalanta the prize of 
 the hunt. His mother’s brothers objected and he slew 
 them. His mother thereupon burned the brand which she 
 had once carefully preserved, for he was fated to live only 
 so long as it lasted. 
 
 Mercenrike, Mercia, 4302. An Anglian kingdom in Central 
 England, which lasted from the sixth to the ninth century. 
 
 Mercurie, Mercury, 1385. A Homan god about whom the 
 stories came to be told that had been told about the Greek 
 Hermes. He appears to the souls of the sleeping and the 
 dead, with a communication from some god. Chaucer lias 
 in mind Ovid’s description of the way in which he was 
 arrayed. 
 
 Middelburgh, Middelburg, 277. It was once a great commer- 
 cial town, a member of the Hanseatic League. It is in 
 Holland on the island of Walcheren. 
 
 Minotaur, Minotaur, 980. This monster, a human body and 
 bull’s head, was fed in the Cretan labyrinth on youths and 
 maidens, sent as tribute from Athens, till he was slain by 
 Theseus. 
 
 Narcisus, Narcissus, 1941. This “ faire of yore agon ” in pun- 
 ishment for his scorn of others was made to perish with 
 love of his own reflection in the water. 
 
 Nero, Nero, 2032. The u grete Nero” is of course the em- 
 peror ; there were other Neros. He died by his own hand 
 to escape his pursuers, 68 a.d. 
 
296 
 
 PROPER NAMES 
 
 Northfolk, Norfolk, 619. In this county, which was once a 
 part of East Anglia, the name Chaucer occurs as early as 
 1275. 
 
 Ore welle, Orwell, 277. The port of Orwell was at Harwich in 
 Essex, opposite the confluence of the Stour and the Orwell. 
 
 Oxenford, Oxford, 285. 
 
 Palamoun, Palamon, 1070. 
 
 Palatye, Palathia, 65. 
 
 Perotheus, Pirithous, 1191. He was helped by Theseus in the 
 conflict with the Centaurs, and also in his attempt to take 
 Proserpine from Hades, according to the ancient myth. 
 That he was sought there after his death by Theseus, 
 Chaucer learns from Le Roman de la Rose. 
 
 Pertelote, Partlet, 4060. 
 
 Phebus, Phoebus, 1493. This which meant originally an attri- 
 bute of the sun-god, or the sun as god, had been used so 
 much that it had come to mean no more than the sun. 
 
 Phisiologus, Physiologus, 4461. Sometimes used as the name 
 of an author, but really the name of a sort of book, other- 
 wise called Bestiary, which tells a few facts, or fictions, 
 about a few animals, with their signification. Thus, we 
 may learn from the pigeon not to rob, for she does not live 
 on prey. ’ 
 
 Pirrus, Pyrrhus, 4547. Priam’s death at the hand of Achilles’s 
 son, Pyrrhus, was esteemed the most affecting incident at 
 the fall of Troy. 
 
 Pluto, Pluto, 2082. He was the husband of Ceres’ daughter, 
 Proserpine. He had grieved Ceres by carrying off her 
 daughter, Proserpine. 
 
 Poules, St. Paul’s (Cathedral), 509. 
 
PROPER NAMES 
 
 297 
 
 Priam, Priam, 4548. The last king of Troy. His story was 
 once known to all schoolboys. If you cannot read Latin, 
 you may read it in some translation of the JEneid rather 
 than in a classical dictionary. 
 
 Pruce, Prussia, 53 ; Prussian, 2122. Pruce was a Baltic land 
 which the Order of the Teutonic Knights had wrested from 
 the heathen Slavs, and were holding against the Poles and 
 Lithuanians. 
 
 Razis, Rhasis, 432. A cyclopsedia of medicine was left by this 
 Arabian-Persian who died about 932. 
 
 Romayn, Roman, 4555. 
 
 Rouncivale, Hospital of the Blessed Mary of Rouncyvalle at 
 Charing (London), 670. 
 
 Ruce, Russia, 54. We would like to know what Ruce meant 
 to Chaucer ; something quite different certainly from what 
 Russia means to us. 
 
 Rufus, Rufus, 430. A Greek physician at Ephesus about 
 
 100 A.D. 
 
 Russel, Russell, 4524. It means the reddish one. 
 
 Salamon, Solomon, 1942. 
 
 Sampson, Samson, 2466. 
 
 Satalye, Attalia, 58. This place, of which one modern name is 
 Adalia, is on the south coast of Asia Minor. 
 
 Scariot, (Judas) Iscariot, 4417. 
 
 Scithia, Scythia, 867. A vague name at the best for Central 
 Asia. 
 
 Serapion, Serapion, 432. An Arabian physician of the eleventh 
 century. 
 
 Sinon, Sinon, 4418. He pretended to be a deserter from the 
 Greeks and betrayed Troy into their hands. 
 
298 
 
 PROPER NAMES 
 
 Southwerk, Southwark, 20. Now a portion of London south 
 of the Thames. 
 
 Spayne, Spain, 409. 
 
 Stace, Statius, 2294. He is here called Stace of Thebes as the 
 author of the Thebais. He was a Roman poet who died 
 about 86 a.d. 
 
 Tabard, an inn, 20. Its sign was a sleeveless coat, such as 
 heralds wear. 
 
 Talbot, name of a dog, 4573. 
 
 Tars, Tartary (Skeat), Tarsus (Liddell), 2160. 
 
 Thebes, Thebes, 933. The chief city of Boeotia, ruled over by 
 Creon. 
 
 Thomas, St. Thomas k Becket, 826. He was slain in 1172, and 
 canonized in 1220. His shrine was destroyed in the time 
 of Henry VIII. 
 
 Trace, Thrace, 1638. A region north of Greece. 
 
 Tramissene, Tremessen, 62. A Moorish kingdom in Africa, 
 near the present Gulf of Tremessen. 
 
 Troye, Troy, 2833. Chaucer’s statements about Troy are 
 derived from Latin writers, mostly post-classical. 
 
 Turkye, Turkey, 66. 
 
 Turnus, 1945. This king of the Rutulians in Italy was slain 
 by iEneas. 
 
 Venus, Venus, 1904. 
 
 Vulcanus, Vulcan, 2222. 
 
 Ware. Ware, 692. This town is in Hertfordshire about twenty 
 miles north of London. 
 
 Watte, Walter, 643. 
 
 William, William the Conqueror, 324. 
 
PROPER NAMES 
 
 299 
 
 Ypres, Ypres, 448. A town in West Flanders, once famous 
 for its linen and woollen. 
 
 Zephirus, Zephyrus, Zephyr, 5. The west wind. 
 

 
GLOSSARY 
 
 a, on ; a Goddes name, in 
 
 God’s name, $54. 
 a, ah, 1785. 
 able, fit, 167. 
 abood, delay, 965. 
 aboute, around, 488 ; in turn, 
 890. 
 
 abrayde, awoke, 4198. 
 abregge, abridge, 2999. 
 abye, aboughte, abought, 
 
 suffered from, 2303 ; suffered 
 for, 3100. 
 
 accomplice, accomplish, 2864. 
 accord, acord, agreement, 
 838 ; harmony, 4069. 
 accordant, acordaunt, suit- 
 able, 37, 4026. 
 achat, purchase, 571. 
 achatour, purchaser, 568. 
 acorde, agree, 830 ; it suited, 
 244. 
 
 actes, records, 4326. 
 a-day, in the day, 2623. 
 adoun, down, downwards, 393. 
 adrad, afraid, 605. 
 
 afered (aferd), afraid, 628. 
 affeccioun, affection, 1158. 
 affile, render smooth, 712. 
 affrayed, scared, 4468. 
 after, according to, 125. 
 after oon, alike, 341. 
 agaste, agaste, agast, 
 frighten, 2931 ; Arcita him 
 (himself) agaste, A. was 
 affrighted, 2424. 
 agayn, again, against, toward, 
 2680. 
 
 agoon, agon, ago, gone, past, 
 2802. 
 
 agrief, amiss, 4083. 
 aiel, grandfather, 2477. 
 al, all, entire ; quite, wholly, 
 76; although, 297, 734. 
 alaunt, wolf-hound, 2148. 
 alderbest, best of all, 710. 
 alderman, chief officer of a 
 guild, 372. 
 
 ale-stake, support of a tavern 
 
 sign, 667. 
 
 algate, always, 571. 
 
 301 
 
302 
 
 GLOSSARY 
 
 allegge, allege, 3000. 
 aller, alder, of all ; our aller, 
 
 of us all, 823 ; hir aller, of 
 them all, 586. 
 als, also, 3976. 
 amblere, ambling nag, 469. 
 amiddes, in the midst, 2009. 
 amonges, amongst, 759. 
 amorwe, on the morrow, 822. 
 amounte, signify, 2362. 
 anhange, hang, 4252. 
 anight, by night, 1042. 
 anlas, a short two-edged dag- 
 ger, 357. 
 
 apaye, satisfy, 1868. 
 apike, adorn, 365. 
 appalle, weaken, 3053. 
 apparaillinge, preparation, 
 2913. 
 
 appetyt, desire, 1680. 
 arest, rest (of spears), 2602. 
 arette, consider, 726, 2729. 
 arm-greet, thick as one’s arm, 
 2145. 
 
 armipotente, powerful in 
 arms, 1982. 
 
 arraye, equip, 2046 ; arrange, 
 2867. 
 
 ars-metrike, arithmetic, 1898. 
 artow, art thou, 1141. 
 arwes, arrows, 107. 
 as, as if, 81 ; as keep, pray 
 
 keep, 2302 ; as nouthe, at 
 present, 462 ; as out of that 
 contree, out of that country 
 at least, 1345 : as by wey of 
 possibilitee, as far as possi- 
 bilities are concerned, 1291. 
 ascencioun, ascending degree, 
 4045. 
 
 ascendent, ascendant, the 
 point of the ecliptic on the 
 eastern horizon at any mo- 
 ment, 417. 
 
 ashame, put to shame, 2667. 
 ashen, ashes, 1302. 
 aslake, assuage, 1760. 
 asp, aspen, 2921. 
 aspect, angle made at the eye 
 by two heavenly bodies, 1087. 
 aspye, see, 1420. 
 assaut, assault, 989. 
 assaye, try, 1811. 
 assege, besiege, 881. 
 assise, assize, session, 314. 
 assoilling, absolution, 661. 
 asterte, asterte, astert, es- 
 cape, 1595. 
 
 astone, astonie, astonish, 2361. 
 astore, store, 609. 
 astronomye, astrology, 414. 
 asure, azure, 4052. 
 athamaunt, adamant, 1305, 
 a three, in three, 2934. 
 
GLOSSARY 
 
 303 
 
 at-rede, outwit, 2449. 
 at-renne, outrun, 2449. 
 atte, at the, 29. 
 attempre, temperate, 4028. 
 auctour, author, 4174. 
 auter, altar, 1905. 
 avaunce, be profitable, 246. 
 avaunt, boast, 227. 
 avauntour, boaster, 4107. 
 aventure, adventure, chance, 
 25. 
 
 avisioun, vision, dream, 4304. 
 avow, vow, 2237. 
 avys, advice, consideration, 
 opinion, 786. 
 axe, ask, 1347. 
 
 axing, demand, bidding, 1826. 
 ayeyns, against, 1787. 
 
 bacheler, aspirant to knight- 
 hood, 80. 
 
 bake-mete, meat pie, 343. 
 balled, bald, 198. 
 bane, destruction, 1097. 
 baner, banner, 966. 
 bar, baren, bore, 105, 721. 
 barbour, barber, 2025. 
 bareyne, barren, 1244. 
 barres, ornamental bands or 
 bosses, 329. 
 
 batailled, embattled, indented 
 like a battlement, 4050. 
 
 bauderye, gayety, 1926. 
 baudrik, bawdrik, baldric, 
 suspended from one shoul- 
 der, and passing under the 
 opposite arm, 116. 
 bedes (peire of), rosary, 159. 
 beest, beast, 4089. 
 beggestere, beggar (originally 
 of females only), 242. 
 beme, trumpet, 4588. 
 benedicite, give praise to 
 (him) ; often a mere excla- 
 mation, ben’dic’te, 1785. 
 benigne, kind, 518. 
 bente, grassy slope, 1981. 
 bere, bar, bore, born, bear, 
 carry, 796, 2646. 
 bere, bear, 1640. 
 bere, bier, 2871. 
 berie, berry, 207. 
 beste, atte, in the best man- 
 ner, 29. 
 
 bestes, beasts, 2929. 
 bet, better, 242. 
 bete, beat, 4512 ; ybete, em- 
 bossed, 979. 
 bete, kindle, 2253. 
 beth war, beware, 4520. 
 bi-bledde, covered with blood, 
 2002. 
 
 bifalle, bifel, bifallen, bi 
 falle, befall, 19 . 
 
304 
 
 GLOSSARY 
 
 biforen, biforn, bifore, be- 
 fore, in front, beforehand, 
 377, 450, 1376. 
 bihote, promise, 1854. 
 bi-japed, befooled, 1585. 
 biknowe, acknowledge, 1556, 
 4251. 
 
 bile, bill (of a bird), 4051. 
 biquethe, bequeath, 2768. 
 biraft, taken away from, 1361. 
 biseken, beseech, 918. 
 bisette, bisette, biset, em- 
 ploy, 279 ; establish, 3012. 
 biside, beside, 874 ; of biside, 
 from the neighborhood of, 
 445. 
 
 bisides, him bisides, about 
 him, 402. 
 
 bismotered, stained, 76. 
 bisy, busy, 321. 
 bit, bids, 187. 
 
 bithought, I am, I have 
 thought (of), 767. 
 bitwixen, bitwixe, betwixt, 
 277, 880. 
 
 biwreye, disclose, reveal, 2229, 
 4241. 
 
 blankmanger, a compound of 
 minced fowl with cream, rice, 
 almond, sugar, eggs, etc., 
 387. 
 
 blede, bleed, 1801. 
 
 bleynte, blenched, started 
 back, 1078. 
 blive, quickly, 2697. 
 bocher, butcher, 2025. 
 bokeler, buckler, 112. 
 bokelinge, buckling, 2503. 
 boket, bucket, 1533. 
 boles, bulls, 2139. 
 
 bond, bound, 2991. 
 
 bone, prayer, 2269. 
 boon, bone, 1177. 
 boras, borax, 630. 
 bord, table, 52. 
 
 borwe (to), in pledge, 1622. 
 bote, remedy, 424. 
 boteler, butler, 4324. 
 botme, bottom, 4291. 
 bouk, body, 2746. 
 bour, inner room, 4022. 
 bowes, boughs, 2917. 
 box, boxwood, 4588. 
 bracer, armguard (against the 
 bowstring), 111. 
 brak, broke, 1468. 
 brast, burst, 4408. 
 brede, breadth, 1970. 
 breed, bread, 341. 
 breem, bream (fresh- water 
 fish), 350. 
 breke, break, 551. 
 breme, fiercely, 1699. 
 bren, bran, 4430. 
 
GLOSSARY 
 
 305 
 
 brend, burnished, 2162. 
 brenne, burn, 2331. 
 brenninge, burning, 996. 
 bresten, burst, 1980. 
 bretful, brimful, 687, 2164. 
 bretherhed, brotherhood (of 
 a religious order), 511. 
 briddes, birds, 2929. 
 brond, firebrand, 2339. 
 brood, broad, 155, 3024. 
 brouke, use, 4490. 
 brouding, embroidery, 2498. 
 broun, brown, 109. 
 browe, eyebrow, 627, 2134. 
 broyded, braided, 1049. 
 bulte, built, 1548. 
 bulte, bolt, sift (of grain), 
 4430. 
 
 burdoun, bass accompaniment, 
 673. 
 
 burgeys, burgess, citizen, 369. 
 burned, burnished, 1983. 
 busk, bush, 2013. 
 but, unless, 582, 782, 2245. 
 but if, unless, 351, 656. 
 but that, except that, 3002. 
 by and by, side by side, 1011. 
 bying, buying, 569. 
 
 caitif, caitives, captive, 
 wretch, wretched, 924, 1552, 
 1717. 
 
 can, can, know, know how, 
 210, 1780, 2312. 
 cantel, portion, 3008. 
 careful, sorrowful, 1565. i 
 careyne, carrion, carcass, 
 2013. 
 
 carf, carved, 100. 
 carl, churl, fellow, 545. 
 carole, dance in a ring with 
 accompaniment of singing, 
 1931. 
 
 carpe, talk, 474. 
 carte, cart, 4208 ; chariot, 
 2041. 
 
 cas, chance, 844 ; case, 797 ; 
 
 cases of law, 323. 
 cas, quiver (of arrows), 2358. 
 cast, plot, 2468. 
 caste, conjecture, 2172 ; (cast 
 for casteth), consider, 2854. 
 casuelly, accidentally, 4291. 
 catapuce, spurge (Euphorbia 
 lathyris), 4155. 
 
 catel, property, goods, 373, 
 4017. 
 
 celle, branch convent, ruled 
 by a prior, 172 ; cell (of the 
 brain), 1376. 
 
 centaure, centaury (Centau- 
 rea nigra), 4153. 
 cerial, cerrial oak, bitter oak 
 (Quersus cerris), 2290. 
 
 x 
 
306 
 
 GLOSSARY 
 
 ceruce, white lead, 630. 
 ceynt, cincture, girdle, 329. 
 champartye, participation in 
 •power, 1949. 
 
 chaped, having scabbards with 
 metal tips, 336. 
 chapeleyne, chaplain, 164. 
 chapman, trader, merchant, 
 397. 
 
 char, chariot, 2138. 
 charge, task, 733; ground of 
 reproach, 2287. 
 charitable, kind, 143. 
 charitee, love (Christian char- 
 ity), 452. 
 
 chasteyn, chestnut tree, 2922. 
 chaunterye, chantry, place 
 with endowment for singing 
 masses, 510. 
 
 chees, choose (thou), 1595. 
 chere, countenance, appear- 
 ance, entertainment, 747, 913. 
 cherl, countryman, churl, 
 2459. 
 
 chevetayn, captain, 2555. 
 chevisaunce, loans, 282. 
 chirche, church (as place for 
 burial or funeral), 2760. 
 shirking, shrill sounds, 2004. 
 tfrivachye, expedition on 
 horseback, 85. 
 chuk, cluck, 4364. 
 
 citee, city, 939. 
 citole, small oblong box with 
 strings across the lop to be 
 struck with fingers, 1959. 
 citryn, citron (in color), 2167. 
 clarree, wine, honey, and 
 spices mixed and strained, 
 1471. 
 
 clene, clean, 133 ; clennesse, 
 
 purity, 506. 
 
 clepen, call, name, 121; cry 
 out, 643. 
 
 clerk, cleric, scholar, man of 
 learning, 285. 
 
 cloisterer, resident in a clois- 
 ter, 259. 
 
 clomben, ascended, 4388. 
 cloos, closed, 4522. 
 clos, enclosure, 4550. 
 clothered, clotted, 2745. 
 clothes, tapestries, draperies, 
 2281. 
 
 cofre, coffer, chest, 298. 
 cok, cock, 823. 
 colera (Latin), choler, 4118. 
 colered, provided with collars, 
 2152. 
 
 colerik, of bilious humor or 
 temperament, 587. 
 colfox, brant-fox, 4405. 
 colpons, shreds, 679 ; billets 
 (of wood), 2867. 
 
GLOSSARY 
 
 307 
 
 cometh, come, 839. 
 communes, commons, com- 
 moners, 2509. 
 
 compassing, contrivance, 
 1996. 
 
 compeer, comrade, 670. 
 complexioun, complecci- 
 oun, temperament, consti- 
 tution, bodily habit, 333, 
 4114. 
 
 compleynt, complaint, 2012. 
 composicioun, agreement, 
 848, 2651. 
 
 condicioun, condition, qual- 
 ity, 38. 
 
 confus, confused, 2230. 
 conscience, pity, sympathy, 
 142. 
 
 conseil, counsel, 1141 ; coun- 
 sellor, 1147. 
 
 conserve, preserve, 2329. 
 constellacioun, the position 
 of the sun, the moon, and 
 the planets with regard to 
 one another, 1088. 
 contek, strife, 2003. 
 contenaunce, appearance, 
 1916. 
 
 contrarie, adversary, 1859. 
 contree, country, 216. 
 conveye, escort, 2737. 
 cop, top, 554. 
 
 cope, a long cape or cloak 
 worn by monks and friars, 
 260. 
 
 coppe, cup, 134. 
 corage, heart, 11. 
 coroune, crown, 2875. 
 correccioun, correction, 2461. 
 corrumpable, subject to de- 
 cay, 3010. 
 corven, cut, 2696. 
 cosin, cousin, kinsman, 1131. 
 cote, hovel, 2457. 
 cote-armure, coat, embroid- 
 ered with armorial insignia, 
 worn over armor, 1016. 
 couched, embroidered, 2161, 
 laid, 2933. 
 
 coude, could, knew, knew how 
 to, 95, 476, 130. 
 countour, auditor (of ac- 
 counts), 359. 
 
 countrefete, imitate, 139. 
 courtepy, short overcoat of 
 course stuff, 290. 
 couthe, renowned, 14. 
 coverchief, kerchief, 453. 
 covine, trickery, 604. 
 cowardye, cowardice, 2730. 
 coy, quiet, 119. 
 cracching, scratching, 2834. 
 crafty, skilful, 1897. 
 crike, creek, 409. 
 
308 
 
 GLOSSARY 
 
 Cristofre, St. Christopher’s 
 likeness, 115. 
 
 crop, shoot, 7 ; treetop, 1532. 
 
 croys, cross, 699. 
 
 crulle, curly, 81. 
 
 cure, care, thought, 303, 1007, 
 
 2853. 
 
 curious, skilful, 577. 
 curs, curse (excommunica- 
 tion), 655. 
 
 curteys, courteous, 250. 
 cut, lot, 835. 
 
 daliaunce, gossip, 211. 
 damoysele, miss, 4060. 
 dampned, condemned, 1175. 
 dar, dare, 1151. 
 darreyne, to decide, to decide 
 one’s right to, 1631, 1609. 
 daun, lord, sir, 1379, 3982. 
 daunger, danger, liability, con- 
 trol, 402, 663, 1849. 
 daungerous, haughty, 517. 
 daweninge, dawning, 4072. 
 daweth, dawns, 1676. 
 dayerye. dairy, 597. 
 dayesye, daisy, 332. 
 debat, debate, strife, 1754. 
 debonaire, gracious, 2282. 
 dede, deed, 742. 
 deduyt, pleasure, 2177. 
 deed, dead, 145. 
 
 deedly, deathlike, 913. 
 deef, deaf, 446. 
 deel, part, share, bit, 1825, 
 4024. 
 
 defye, renounce, spurn, 1604 ; 
 defy, 4361. 
 
 degree, step, used for seats, 
 1890 ; situation, 1841 ; rank, 
 40. 
 
 del, see deel. 
 
 delivere, quick, active, 84. 
 delve, dig, 536. 
 delyt, delight, pleasure, 335, 
 1679. 
 
 deme, deem, 1881. 
 departe, separate, 1134. 
 depeynted, depicted, 2027. 
 dere, injure, 1822. 
 derke, dark, 1995. 
 derre, dearer, 1448. 
 desdeyn, disdain, 789. 
 despitous, merciless, cruel, 
 516, 1596. 
 
 destreyne, oppress, distress, 
 1455. 
 
 dette, debt, 280. 
 devise, relate, 994 ; plan, 
 1254. 
 
 devoir, duty, 2598. 
 devys, direction, 816. 
 deye, dairywoman, 4036. 
 deyne, deign, 4371. 
 
GLOSSARY 
 
 309 
 
 deyntee, valuable, 168 ; dainty, 
 346. 
 
 deys, dais, 370. 
 diapred, having the surface 
 figured in the weaving, 2158. 
 dich, ditch, 4038. 
 diched, provided with a moat, 
 1888. 
 
 dight, dressed, 1041 ; made 
 ready, 1630. 
 
 digne, worthy, 141 ; too re- 
 served, 517. 
 
 dike, make ditches, 536. 
 
 disconfitinge, disconfiture, 
 
 defeat, 2719, 1008. 
 disconfort, discouragement, 
 2010 . 
 
 disfigured, changed in aspect, 
 1403. 
 
 disherited, disinherited, 2926. 
 dishevele, dishevelled, 683. 
 disjoynt, failure, 2962. 
 di spence, expenditure, ex- 
 pense, 441, 1882. 
 disport, readiness to be 
 amused, 137. 
 
 disposicioun, position, 1087 ; 
 disposal, 2364. 
 
 disputisoun, disputation, 4428. 
 divininge, conjecturing, 2521. 
 divinistre, diviner (in no bad 
 sense), 2811. 
 
 divisioun, distinction, 1780. 
 doke, duck, 4580. 
 dokke, cut short, dock, 590. 
 domes, decisions, 323. 
 doon, don, do, do, make, cause, 
 78. 
 
 dormant, kept standing (of a 
 table), 353. 
 dorste, durst, 227. 
 doughtren, daughters, 4019. 
 doute, doubt, 487. 
 dowves, doves, 1962. 
 drecche, trouble, 4077. 
 drede, fear, 1776. 
 dredeful, timid, 1479. 
 drenching, drowning, 2456. 
 dresse, put in order, 106, 2594. 
 dreye, dry, 3024. 
 dreynt, drowned, 4272. 
 droughte, drought, 2. 
 droupe, droop, 107. 
 drugge, drudge, 1416. 
 duk, duke, 860. 
 dure, endure, 2770. 
 duske, grow dim, 2806. 
 dwelle, remain, 1661 ; delay, 
 4340. 
 
 dye, die, 1109. 
 dys, dice, 1238. 
 
 ecclesiaste, minister, 708. 
 ech, each, 39. 
 
310 
 
 GLOSSARY 
 
 echoon, echon, each one, 820. 
 eek, also, 5. 
 eet, ate, 2048. 
 
 effect, fact, purpose, event, 
 2207, 2259, 2482. 
 eft, again, 1669. 
 elde, old age, 2447. 
 ellebor, hellebore (Helleborus 
 niger), 4154. 
 elles, else, 375. 
 
 embrouded, covered with em- 
 broidery, 89. 
 
 emforth, to the extent of, 2235. 
 empoysoning, poisoning, 2460. 
 emprise, enterprise, 2540. 
 encens, incense, 2429. 
 encombred. stuck fast, 508 ; 
 
 wearied, 1718. 
 encrees, increase, 2184. 
 endelong, lengthwise, 1991 ; 
 from one end to the other of, 
 2678. 
 
 endite, relate, 1380 ; compose, 
 95. 
 
 engendred, produced, 4, 421. 
 engendren, are produced, 4113. 
 engined, tortured, racked, 
 4250. 
 
 enhorte, encourage, 2851. 
 enoynt, anointed, 2961. 
 ensample, example, 496. 
 entente, purpose, 1000. 
 
 entune, intone, 123. 
 envined, having store of wine, 
 342. 
 
 equinoxial, equator, 4046. 
 
 er, before, 36. 
 erbe, herb, see ive. 
 erchedeken, archdeacon, 658. 
 ere, plough, 886. 
 eres, ears, 556. 
 erst, first, sooner, 776, 1566. 
 eschaunge, exchange, 278. 
 eschue, eschew, avoid, 3043. 
 ese, entertainment, 768. 
 esed, entertained, 29. 
 esily, easily, 469. 
 espye, discover, 1112. 
 estat, state, condition, 203, 522. 
 estres, interior parts, 1971. 
 esy, moderate, 441. 
 eteme, eternal, 1109 ; eter- 
 nally, 3015. 
 
 even, just, 1864 ; proper, 83. 
 evene, evenly, 1523. 
 everich, every, each, every 
 one, 241, 371, 1186. 
 everich a, every single, 733. 
 everichon, every one, 31. 
 ew, yew tree, 2923. 
 expouned, expounded, 4305. 
 ey, egg, 4035. 
 eyen, eyes, 152. 
 eyle, ail, 1081. 
 
GLOSSARY 
 
 311 
 
 fader, father, 100. 
 fadme, fathoms, 2916. 
 faire, safely, without opposi- 
 tion, 984 ; carefully, 2697. 
 falding, sort of coarse cloth, 
 391. 
 
 falle, befall, 586. 
 falwe, fallow, yellowish, 1364. 
 famulier, familiar, on good 
 terms, 215. 
 
 fare, behaviour, 1809. 
 fare, go, proceed, fare, 1265, 
 1372, 2435. 
 farsed, stuffed, 233. 
 faste, near, close, 719, 1478. 
 faught, fought, 399. 
 fayn, glad, gladly, 766. 
 fedde, fed, 146. 
 feeld, field, plain, 886, 977. 
 feend, fiend, 4476. 
 fel, felle, cruel, 2630, 1559. 
 felawe, fellow, partner, 648, 
 1624. 
 
 felaweshipe, fellowship, 32. 
 feld, felled, cut down, 2924. 
 fer, far, 388, 1850. 
 ferde, acted, 1647 ; behaved, 
 1372. 
 
 ferforthly (so), to such a de- 
 gree, 960. 
 
 fermacies, remedies, 2713. 
 feme, distant, 14. 
 
 ferre, farther, 48. 
 ferreste, farthest, 494. 
 ferther, further, 36. 
 ferthing, small portion, 134, 
 
 255. 
 
 feste, entertain, 2193. 
 festne, fasten, 195. 
 fet, fetched, brought, 819, 
 2527. 
 
 fetis, shapely, 157. 
 fetisly, elegantly, 124. 
 fettres, fetters, 1279. 
 fey, faith, 1126. 
 feyne, invent, feign, 705. 
 fil, fillen, fell, 845, 949. 
 file, file, polish, 2152. 
 firre, fir tree, 2921. 
 fithele, fiddle, 296. 
 flat our, flatterer, 4515. 
 flee, fly, 4132. 
 fleen, flee, escape, 1170. 
 fleigh, flew, 4529. 
 flete, swim, float, 2397. 
 
 flex, flax, 676. 
 
 fley, flew, 4362. 
 flikeringe, fluttering, 1962. 
 flotery, fluttering, wavy, 2883. 
 flour, flower, 4. 
 flour-de-lys, fleur-de-lis, 238. 
 floytinge, playing on the flute, 
 
 whistling, 91. 
 folwe, follow, 2367. 
 
312 
 
 GLOSSARY 
 
 fo, foo, foe, 63. 
 fond, found, 701. 
 foom, foam, 1659. 
 foot-mantel, mantle for a 
 horse, often reaching to his 
 feet (it might be folded over 
 the rider’s hips), 472. 
 for, against, 4307 ; because, 
 443 ; in spite of, 2745 ; in 
 order that, 2879 ; for to, in 
 order to, to, 13, 78. 
 for-blak, very black, 2144. 
 fordo, destroyed, 1560. 
 forn-cast, foreordained, 4407. 
 forneys, furnace, 202, 559. 
 for-old, very old, 2142. 
 for-pined, wasted away (by 
 torment), 205 ; worn out, 
 1453. 
 
 fors, force ; do no fors of, 
 
 make no account of, 4131. 
 for-slewthen, waste in sloth, 
 4286. 
 
 forster, forester, 117. 
 forther-moor, farther on, 2069. 
 forthre, further, aid, 1148. 
 forthy, therefor, 1841. 
 fortunen, predict favorably, 
 417 ; make lucky or unlucky, 
 2377. 
 
 forward, agreement, promise, 
 33, 829. 
 
 forwite, know beforehand, 
 4424. 
 
 forwiting, foreknowledge, 
 
 4433. 
 
 forwoot, foreknows, 4424. 
 foryete, forget, 1882. 
 foryeve, forgive, 743. 
 fother, load (cart-load), 530; 
 
 great quantity, 1908. 
 foundre, stumble (of a horse), 
 2687. 
 
 fowel, fowl, foul, fowl, bird, 
 
 9, 190. 
 
 foyne, thrust, 1654, 2550. 
 frakenes, freckles, 2169. 
 frankeleyn, substantial house- 
 holder, franklin, 216. 
 fraternitee, guild (of crafts- 
 men), 364. 
 
 fredom, liberality, 46. 
 freendlich, friendly, 2680. 
 frere, friar, 208. 
 frete, eat, 2019. 
 frc, from, 44. 
 fulfille, fill full, 940. 
 fume, vapors (in the body), 
 4114. 
 
 fumetere, fumitory (Fumaria 
 officinalis), 4153. 
 
 gabbe, lie, speak idly, 4256. 
 gadere, gatherer, 824. 
 
/ 
 
 GLOSSARY 
 
 313 
 
 galingale, sweet cy perus, 381. 
 game, sport, 853 ; pleasure, 
 2286. 
 
 gamed, it pleased, 634. 
 gan, began, did, would ; gan 
 preye, would pray, 301 ; 
 gan espye, did see, 1112. 
 gappe, gap, 1639. 
 gargat, throat, 4525. 
 garleek, garlic, 634. 
 gastly, terrible, 1984. 
 gat, got, 703. 
 
 gat-tothed, having the teeth 
 far apart, 468. 
 
 gaudegrene, weld-green (dyed 
 green with weld, Reseda lu- 
 teola), 2079. 
 
 gauded, furnished with beads 
 called gauds, 159. 
 gay, finely dressed, 74. 
 gayler, jailer, 1064. 
 gayne, avail, 1176. 
 gaytre (goat-tree), buckthorn 
 (Rhamnus catharticus),4155. 
 gentil, noble (by birth or breed- 
 ing), 72; excellent, 718; 
 good-natured, 647. 
 gere, gear, armor, 2180 ; uten- 
 sils, 352 ; apparel, 365 ; man- 
 ners, 1531. 
 
 gerful, changeable, 1538. 
 gerland, garland, 666. 
 
 gerner, garner, 593. 
 gery, changeable, 1536. 
 gesse, suppose, think, 82, 
 117. 
 
 gete, get, obtain, 291. 
 gigginge (g hard), fitting with 
 straps, 2504. 
 gile, deceit, guile, 2596. 
 gilteless, guiltless, 1312. 
 ginglen (g soft), jingle, 170. 
 gipoun (g soft), a short coat 
 worn under armor, but some- 
 times without, 75, 2120. 
 gipser (g soft), pouch, purse, 
 357. 
 
 girles, young people of either 
 sex, 664. 
 
 gise, guise, way, 663. 
 gladere, one that makes glad, 
 
 2223. 
 
 glede, live coal, 1997. 
 gobet, fragment, 696. 
 godhede, godhead, divinity, 
 2381. 
 
 goldes, marigolds, 1929. 
 goliardeys, buffoon, 560. 
 good, property, 581, 611. 
 goon, gon, go, walk, go, 12, 
 771. 
 
 goost, gost, spirit, ghost, 205. 
 goot, goat, 688. 
 goune, gown, 93. 
 
314 
 
 GLOSSARY 
 
 governaunce, management, 
 281 ; self-control, 4024 ; con- 
 trol, 4055. 
 grace, davor, 1245. 
 graunt, concession, 1306. 
 graunt-mercy, thanks, 4160. 
 grece, grease, 135. 
 gree, highest grade, victory, 
 2733. 
 
 grene, green color, 103, 159; 
 
 green sprigs, 1512. 
 greve, grove, 1495 ; branches, 
 1507. 
 
 grisly, horrible, 1363. 
 grone, groan, 4076. 
 grope, test, 644. 
 grote, groat, 4148. 
 ground, texture, 453. 
 groyning, murmuring, 2460. 
 grucche, murmur, grumble, 
 3045. 
 
 gruf, flat on the face, 949. 
 grys, gray fur, 194. 
 gye, guide, 1950. 
 
 haberdasher, seller of hats, 
 361. 
 
 habergeoun, coat of mail, 76. 
 hadde, hade, had, 554. 
 hakke, hack, 2865. 
 halwes, saints, 14. 
 hamer, hammer, 2508. 
 
 han, have, 849. 
 hardily, certainly, 156. 
 hardy, bold, 405. 
 harlot, young person, fellow, 
 rascal, 647. 
 
 harlotryes, ribald jests, 561. 
 hameised, equipped, 114. 
 harneys, harnays, armor, 
 1006 ; fittings, 2896. 
 harre, hinge, 550. 
 harrow, help, 4235. 
 harye, harie, drag, 2726. 
 hauberk, coat of mail, 2431. 
 haunt, practice, skill, 447. 
 heed, head, 198. 
 heelp, helped, 1651. 
 heep, crowd, host, 575. 
 heer, hair, 589. 
 heer, here, 1791. 
 heeth, heath, 6, 606. 
 hegge, hedge, 4408. 
 heigh, high, 316 j great, 1798 ; 
 in heigh and lowe, in all 
 things, 817. 
 hele, health, 1271. 
 hele, heal, 2706. 
 hele, hide, conceal, 4245. 
 hem, them, 39. 
 hemself, themselves, 1254, 
 heng, hung, 160. 
 henne, hence, 2356. 
 hennes, hens, 4056. 
 
GLOSSARY 
 
 315 
 
 nente, catch, seize, get, 299, 957. 
 heraud, herald, 2533. 
 herbergage, lodging, 4179. 
 herberwe, harbor, 403 ; inn, 
 765. 
 
 herde, herdsman, 603. 
 here, her, to her, 1421, 2057. 
 here-agayns, against this, 3039. 
 herkne, hearken, listen, 1526. 
 hert, hart, 1689. 
 herte, heart, 150. 
 herte-blood, heart’s blood, 
 2006. 
 
 herte-spoon, breast-bone (?), 
 2606. 
 
 heste, command, 2532. 
 hete, promise, 2398. 
 hethen, heathen, 66. 
 hethenesse, heathen lands, 49. 
 heve, heave, 550. 
 hewe, complexion, hue, 394. 
 hewe, hew, cut, 1422. 
 hider, hither, 672. 
 hidous, hideous, 1978. 
 highte, be called, 1557 ; am 
 called, 1558 ; was called, 616 ; 
 were called, 2920. 
 highte, height ; on highte, 
 aloud, 1784. 
 
 hine, servant, hind, 603. 
 hipe, hip, 472. 
 hir, her, 119. 
 
 hir, their, 11 ; of them, 586. 
 ho, call for silence, 2533. 
 
 hold, possession, 4064. 
 holde, hold, 4625 ; held, 
 
 esteemed, 1307. 
 
 hole, whole, 533. 
 holpen, helped, 18. 
 holt, grove, 6, 
 holwe, hollow, 289. 
 hond, hand, 399. 
 honest, creditable, 246. 
 honge, hang, 2410. 
 
 hool, whole, 3006. 
 
 hoom, home, 400. 
 hoppesteres, tossing, dancing, 
 
 2017. 
 
 hors, horse, 94 ; horses, 74. 
 hostiler, innkeeper, 241. 
 hote, hot, 394 ; hody, 97. 
 hound, dog, 947. 
 houpe, whoop, 4590. 
 housbondrye, economy, 4018 
 humblesse, humility, 1781. 
 hunte, huntsman, 1678, 2628. 
 hurtle, hurl, 2616. 
 hust, hushed, 2981. 
 hy, high, 306. 
 hye, high, 271. 
 hye, hasten, hie, 2274. 
 hye, haste, 2979. 
 
 ilke, same, 175. 
 
GLOSSARY 
 
 316 
 
 in, inne. inn, 2436, 4216. 
 inequal, hour inequal, hour of 
 varying length, 2271. 
 infect, invalidated, 320. 
 infortune, misfortune, 2021. 
 inne, lodge, 2192. 
 inne, in, within, 1618. 
 inspire, quicken, breathe life 
 into, 6. 
 
 ive, ivy ; erbe ive, herb ivy 
 (Ajuga Chameepitys), 4156. 
 ivele, ill, 1127. 
 
 jalous. jealous, 1329. 
 jangle, chatter, prate, 4625. 
 janglere, jester, babbler, 660. 
 jape, trick, 705. 
 jape, befool, mock, 1729. 
 jeet. jet, 4051. 
 jet. fashion, mode, 682. 
 jolitee, sport, 1807 ; show, 
 style, 680. 
 
 jolyf, jolif, joyful, 4264. 
 journee, day’s march, 2738. 
 joynant, adjoining, 1060. 
 jugement, decision, 778. 
 juste, joust, tilt, 96, 2604. 
 justes. jousting-match, 2720. 
 juwise, sentence, 1739. 
 
 keep, care, heed, 398, 503. 
 kembd, combed, 2143. 
 
 kempe, shaggy, 2134. 
 kene. sharp, 104. 
 kepe, keep, 442 ; keep safe, 
 276; take care, 130; care, 
 2960. 
 
 keper, keeper, prior, 172. 
 kerver, carver, 1899. 
 kerving, carving, 1915. 
 kind, nature, 2451. 
 kinrede, kindred, 1286. 
 knarre, thick-set fellow, 649. 
 knarry, gnarled, 1977. 
 knave, boy, servant lad, 2728. 
 knobbe, knob, large pimple, 
 633. 
 
 knowe, know, 382 ; known, 
 1203. 
 
 kyn, cows, kine, 4021. 
 
 laas.las, cord, 392 ; snare, 1817. 
 lacerte, fleshy muscle, 2753. 
 lacinge, lacing, fastening, 2504. 
 lad, brought, 2620. 
 ladde, brought, 2275. 
 lafte, left, omitted, 492. 
 lak, lack, 4034. 
 lakked, lakkede, was lacking, 
 756, 2280. 
 
 land, lond, country, 194, 702. 
 langage. language, 211. 
 large, large, 472 ; at thy large, 
 at large, 1283 ; ben at his 
 
GLOSSARY 
 
 317 
 
 large, to speak in general 
 terms, 2288. 
 large, freely, 734. 
 
 las, snare, 1951. 
 
 lasse (and more) , smaller and 
 greater, 1756. 
 
 lat, let, 188. 
 
 late, lately, 77, 690. 
 latoun, latten, alloy of copper 
 and zinc, 699. 
 
 launde, glade, clearing, 1691. 
 laurer, laurel, 1027. 
 lauriol, spurge laurel (Daphne 
 laureola), 4153. 
 laxatyf, laxative, 4133. 
 layneres, straps, thongs (of 
 armor), 2504. 
 lazar, leper, 245. 
 lechecraft, medical skill, 2745. 
 leed, caldron, boiler (for wash- 
 ing, etc.), 202. 
 
 leef, dear, pleasing, 1837 ; be- 
 loved, 4069. 
 lemes, flames, 4120. 
 lene, lean, 287. 
 lene, lend, 611. 
 lenger, longer, 330. 
 lengthe, length, height, 83. 
 leoun, lion, 1598. 
 lere, learn, 4296. 
 lerne, learn, 613. 
 lese, lose, 1215. 
 
 lesing, losing, 1707. 
 lesinge, lie, deceit, 1927. 
 lest, pleasure, joy, 132. 
 leste, (it) may please, 1848 ; 
 
 (it) pleased, 750. 
 lete, let, leave, 1323. 
 lette, hinder, 889 ; refrain, 1317. 
 letuarie, electuary (syrup with 
 other ingredients), 426. 
 leve, leave, 1614. 
 leve, believe, 3088. 
 levere, dearer, rather, more 
 desirable, 293. 
 
 lewed, ignorant, lay (not of 
 the clergy), 502, 574. 
 leye, lay, 841. 
 leyser, leisure, 1188. 
 licentiat, one licensed by the 
 pope to hear confession and 
 administer penance indepen- 
 dently of the local ordinaries. 
 220 . 
 
 liche-wake, watch over a 
 corpse, 2958. 
 licour, moisture, 3. 
 lief, dear, lief. See leef. 
 liggen, lie, 2205. 
 ligne, line, lineage, 1551. 
 limes, limbs, 2135. 
 limitour, friar licensed to beg 
 for alms within a certain dis- 
 trict, 209. 
 
318 
 
 GLOSSARY 
 
 linage, lineage, 1110. 
 lind, lime tree, 2922. 
 list, (it) pleases, 583 ; liste, 
 (it) pleased, 102. 
 listes, lists, place enclosed for 
 tournaments, 63, 1713. 
 litarge, litharge, white lead, 
 629. 
 
 litel, little, 87. 
 lith, limb, 4065. 
 lith, see lyth. 
 lives, living, 2395. 
 lode, load, 2918. 
 lodemenage, pilotage, 403. 
 lode sterre, pole star, lode- 
 star, 2059. 
 
 logge, lodge, resting-place, 
 4043. 
 
 logging, lodging, 4185. 
 loke, look, 1783. 
 loken, enlocked, 4065. 
 lokkes, locks (of hair), 81. 
 lond, see land, 
 longe, belong, 2791. 
 looth, distasteful, odious, 486, 
 1837. 
 
 lordinges, sirs, gentlemen, 761. 
 lore, teaching, 527. 
 los, loss, 2543. 
 losengeour, flatterer, 4516. 
 Jove-dayes, appointed days for 
 settling disputes, 258. 
 
 lovyere, lover, 80. 
 luce, luce, pike, 350. 
 lust, pleasure, desire, 192, 1318 
 lustily, merrily, 1529. 
 lustinesse, pleasure, 1939. 
 lusty, joyful, 80. 
 
 lye, lie, contradiction, 3015. 
 
 lyf, life, 71. 
 lyk, like, 590. 
 lyth, lies, 1218. 
 
 maad, made, 394. 
 maister, master, 261. 
 maister-strete, main street, 
 2902. 
 
 maistow, mayst thou, 1236. 
 maistrye, mastery ; maistrye 
 (for the), eminently, 165. 
 make, match, adversary, 2556. 
 male, wallet, 694. 
 man, man, 167 ; one, 4513. 
 manace, threat, menace, 2003. 
 manasinge, threatening, 2035. 
 maner, sort of, kind of, 71. 
 mantelet, short mantle, 2163. 
 manye, mania, 1374. 
 many oon, many a one, 2118. 
 marchant, merchant, 270. 
 mary-bones, marrow bones. 
 380. 
 
 mase, maze, perplexity, 4283. 
 mat, dejected, 955. 
 
GLOSSARY 
 
 319 
 
 matere, matter, 727. 
 matrimoigne, matrimony, 
 3095. 
 
 maugre, in spite of, 1607. 
 maunciple, steward (who pur- 
 chases the provisions), 544. 
 maydenhode, maidenhood, 
 2329. 
 
 mede, mead, meadow, 89. 
 mede, reward, meed, 770. 
 medlee, of a mixed color, 
 328. 
 
 men, one, some one, 149, 1524. 
 mencioun, mention, 893. 
 mene, mean, intend, 793. 
 mere, mare, 541. 
 mery, merry, 235. 
 meschaunce, misfortune, 2009. 
 meschief, misfortune, trouble, 
 493, 2551. 
 
 mester, occupation, 1340. 
 mesurable, moderate, 435. 
 mete, befitting, meet, 2291. 
 mete, meat, food, 136. 
 mete, meet, encounter, 1524. 
 mete, dream, 4445. 
 meth, mead (drink), 2279. 
 mewe, coop (for fowls), 349. 
 meynee, household, 1258 ; fol- 
 lowers, 4584. 
 minister, officer, 4233. 
 minour, miner, 2465. 
 
 misboden, insulted, 909. 
 miscarie, come to harm, 513. 
 mishappe, (it) happens ill for, 
 1646. 
 
 mister, handicraft, 613 ; sort 
 of, 1710. 
 mo, more, 576. 
 
 moche, muche, mochel, mu- 
 chel, much, great; moche 
 and lite, great and small, 
 494. 
 
 moder, mother, 4486. 
 moevere, mover, 2987. 
 mone, moon, 2077. 
 mone, moan, complaint, 1366. 
 mood, anger, 1760. 
 moot, mote, may, shall, must, 
 should, ought to, 232, 742. 
 moralitee, moral (of a tale), 
 4630. 
 
 mordre, murder, 1256. 
 mormal, sore, gangrene, 386. 
 morne, morning, 358. 
 mortreux, thick, rich soups, 
 384. 
 
 morweninge, morning, 4492. 
 morwe-tide, morning hour, 
 4206. 
 
 mosel, muzzle, 2151. 
 mottelee, motley, 271. 
 mountaunce, amount, value, 
 1570. 
 
320 
 
 GLOSSARY 
 
 muchel, mochel, much, great, 
 2352 ; greatly, 258. See 
 
 moche. 
 
 murie, merry, 1386. 
 
 naciouns, people from dif- 
 ferent nations, 53. 
 nakers, kettle drums, 2511. 
 nam (ne am), am not, 1122. 
 namely, especially, 1268. 
 namo (na mo), no more, 101. 
 napoplexie, nor apoplexy, 
 4031. 
 
 narette (ne arette), impute 
 not, 726. 
 
 narwe, narrow, 625. 
 nas (ne was), was not, 251. 
 nat, not, 74 ; nat but, only, 
 2722. 
 
 nath (ne hath), has not, 923. 
 nathelees, nevertheless, 35. 
 nayl, nail, 2007 ; claw, 2141. 
 ne, not, 70 ; nor, 179. 
 nede, needful, 304. 
 nedely, necessarily, 4435. 
 nedes, necessarily, 1290. 
 nedes-cost, of necessity, 1477. 
 nedeth, it needs, 462. 
 neer, near, 1439. 
 neer, nearer, 968. 
 neet, neat, cattle, 597. 
 nekke, neck, 238. 
 
 ner, nearer, 1850. 
 nercotikes, narcotics, 1472. 
 nere (ne were), were not, 875. 
 newe, recently, 4239. 
 nexte, nearest, 1413. 
 nice, scrupulous, 398 ; foolish, 
 4505. 
 
 nightertale, night-time, 97. 
 nis (ne is), is not, 901. 
 nolde (ne wolde), would not, 
 1024. 
 
 nones, nonce ; for the nones, 
 
 for the nonce, for the occa- 
 sion, 379. 
 nonne, nun, 118. 
 noot (ne wot), know not, 
 
 284. 
 
 norice, nurse, 4305. 
 norissing, nutriment, 437. 
 nose-thirles, nostrils, 557. 
 notabilitee, noteworthy fact, 
 4399. 
 
 not-heed, crop-head, 109. 
 nothing, in no respect, 2505. 
 nought, not, 107. 
 nouthe, now, at present, 462. 
 ny, close, 588 ; nearly, 732 ; 
 wel ny, almost, 1330. 
 
 o, one, 304, 738. 
 obeisaunce, obedience, 2974. 
 observaunce, respect, 1045. 
 
GLOSSARY 
 
 321 
 
 of, by, 963 ; from, 420 ; in re- 
 spect to, 69. 
 of, off, 2676. 
 
 offended, injured, 909 ; 
 stricken, 2394. 
 
 Offensioun, offence, stroke, 
 2416. 
 
 offertorie, sung while the offer- 
 ings were collected, 710. 
 office, secular employment, 
 292. 
 
 offring, gift of alms at the 
 altar, 450. 
 
 ofte, many ; ofte sithes, often- 
 times, 485 ; ofte time, often, 
 52. 
 
 on live, alive, 3039. 
 ones, once, 765. 
 ook, oak, 1702. 
 o, oon, one ; oon and oon, 
 one by one, 679 ; many oon, 
 many a one, 317 ; after oon, 
 equally good, 341 ; like, 1012. 
 ooth, oath, 120. 
 opie, opium, 1472. 
 oratorie, chapel for private de- 
 votions, 1905. 
 
 ordinaunce, arrangement, 
 2567. 
 
 orgon, organs (as the organ 
 was once called from Latin 
 organa ), 4041. 
 
 Y 
 
 orient, east, 1494. 
 orisoun, prayer, 2372. 
 orlogge, clock, 4044. 
 ought, aught, at all, 3045. 
 oughte, ought, 660. 
 ounces, small portions, strands, 
 677. 
 
 out, abroad, 45. 
 out-hees, hue and cry, 2012. 
 outher, either, 1485. 
 outrely, utterly, 4419. 
 out-ridere, out-rider (to in- 
 spect granges, etc.), 166. 
 over, beyond, 2998. 
 over, upper, 133 ; overeste, 
 uppermost, 290. 
 overal. everywhere, 216. 
 overthwart, crosswise, 1991. 
 owher, anywhere, 653. 
 oynement, ointment, 631. 
 oynons, onions, 634. 
 
 paas, pas, pace ; foot-pace, 
 825 ; paces, yards, 1890. 
 pace, pass, go, 1602 ; go on, 
 36 ; surpass, 574. 
 paleys, palace, 2199. 
 palfrey, horse, 207. 
 pan, brain pan, skull, 1165. 
 paraments, rich apparel, 2501. 
 par amour, with real human 
 love, 1155. 
 
322 
 
 GLOSSARY 
 
 paramours, with devotion, 
 2112 . 
 
 pardee, a common oath, 563. 
 pardoner, seller of indulgences 
 (by which penance was re- 
 mitted), 543. 
 parfit, perfect, 72. 
 parishens, parishioners, 482. 
 parlement, decree, 1306. 
 parte, part, party, side, 2582, 
 3006. 
 
 partrich, partridge, 349. 
 party, partly, 1053. 
 partye, portion, 3008 ; parti- 
 san, 2657. 
 
 parvys, church porch, 310. 
 pas, foot pace, walk, 825 ; 
 paces, 1890. 
 
 passant, surpassing, 2107. 
 passe, surpass, 448, 2885. 
 patente, letter patent, 315. 
 payen, pagan, 2370. 
 pecok-arwes, arrows with 
 peacocks’ feathers, 104. 
 pees, peace, 532. 
 peire, see peyre. 
 pekke, peck, pick, 4157. 
 penaunce, penance, 223 ; suf- 
 fering, 1315. 
 penoun, pennant, 978. 
 perce, pierce, 2. 
 perrye, jewellery, 2936. 
 
 pers, stutf of a sky-blue color, 
 439. 
 
 persone, persoun, person, 
 521 ; parson, 478. 
 perturben, disturb, 906. 
 peyne, torture, 1133. 
 peyne (one’s self), take pains, 
 139, 4495. 
 
 peynte, paint, 1934. 
 peyre, pair, pair of, 2121 ; set, 
 159. 
 
 pighte, pitched, 2689. 
 pikepurs, pick-purse, 1998. 
 piled, deprived of hair, thin, 
 627. 
 
 piler, pillar, 1993. 
 pilours, robbers, pillagers, 
 1007. 
 
 pilwe-beer, pillow-case, 694. 
 pinche at, find fault with, 326. 
 pinched, pleated, 151. 
 pine, suffering, 1324 ; torture, 
 1746, 4249. 
 
 pipen, pipe, whistle, 1838. 
 pitaunce, gift of food, “good 
 dinner,” 224. 
 
 pitous, compassionate, 143 ; 
 
 sorrowful, 955. 
 plat, flat, plain, 1845. 
 plates, iron plates (for ar- 
 mor), 2121. 
 
 plentevous, plentiful, 344. 
 
GLOSSARY 
 
 323 
 
 plesaunce, pleasure, 2409. 
 plesen, please, 610. 
 pley, play, sport, 1125. 
 pleye, play, jest, amuse one’s 
 self, 772. 
 
 pleyinge, amusement, 1061. 
 pleyn, plain, 1091 ; open, 
 988t 
 
 pleyn, fully, 327. 
 pleyne, complain, 1251. 
 pollax, pole-axe, 2544. 
 pomel, round part, top, 2689. 
 pomely, dappled, 616. 
 poraille, poor people, 247. 
 port, behavior, 69. 
 portreiture, drawing, 1915. 
 portreyinge, picture, 1938. 
 pose, suppose, assume (for 
 argument’s sake), 1162. 
 post, support, 800. 
 poudre-marchant, kind of 
 spice, 381. 
 
 pouped, puffed, 4589. 
 poure, pore, look, closely, 
 185. 
 
 povre, poor, 225. 
 poynaunt, pungent, 352. 
 poynt, aim and end, 1501 ; 
 
 case, condition, 200. 
 practisour, practitioner, 422. 
 press, curl papers, 81 ; mould, 
 263. 
 
 prest, preest, priest, 164. 
 preve, proof, 4173. 
 preved, proved, 3001. 
 preye, beseech, 1483. 
 preyere, prayer, 231. 
 pricasour, hard rider, 189. 
 prike, spur, 2508 ; incite, 1043. 
 prikke, stab, 2606. 
 prime, first fourth of the time 
 from sunrise to sunset, 2189 ; 
 nine in the morning, 4387. 
 prively, secretly, 652. 
 privetee, private affairs, 1411. 
 profre, proffer, 1415. 
 propre, own, 581. 
 prow, advantage, profit, 4140. 
 prys, price, 815 ; renown, 67 ; 
 
 praise, 2241. 
 pulle, pluck, 177, 652. 
 pultrye, poultry, 598. 
 purchas, perquisites, private 
 gain, 256. 
 
 purchasing, conveyancing, 
 320. 
 
 purchasour, conveyancer, 318. 
 pure, very, 1279. 
 purfiled, bordered, 193. 
 purtreye, draw, 96. 
 purtreyour, draughtsman, 
 1899. 
 
 purveyaunce, providence, 
 1252. 
 
324 
 
 GLOSSARY 
 
 qualm, disease, 2014. 
 quelle, kill, 4580. 
 queynt, quenched, 2321. 
 queynt, strange, quaint, 1531. 
 queynte, went out, 2334. 
 quike, alive, 1015. 
 quiked, became alive, 2335. 
 quite, repay, 770 ; ransom, 
 1032. 
 
 quitly, wholly, 1792. 
 quod, quoth, said, 1234. 
 quook, trembled, 1576. 
 
 rad ; hadde rad, had read, 
 4311 ; were rad, were read, 
 2595. 
 
 rage, fierce blast, 1985. 
 rage, romp, act wantonly, 257. 
 ransake, ransack, 1005. 
 rasour, razor, 2417. 
 raughte, reached, 136. 
 raunsoun, ransom, 1024. 
 rebel, rebellious, 833. 
 recche, care, heed, 1398. 
 rechelees, recchelees, care- 
 less, heedless, 179, 4297. 
 reconforte, comfort again, 
 2852. 
 
 recorde, bear in mind, 1745; 
 remind, 829. 
 
 rede, read, 709 ; counsel, 3068. 
 redily, quickly, promptly , 2276. 1 
 
 ! redy, ready, 21. 
 reed, counsel, advice, 1216 ; 
 
 counsel, adviser, 665. 
 reed, red, 153. 
 
 registre, record, narrative, 
 
 2812. 
 
 regne, kingdom, realm, rule, 
 866, 1624. , 
 
 rekene, reckon, 401. 
 rekening, reckoning, 600. 
 reme, realm, 4326. 
 remenant, remainder, 888. 
 renges, ranks, 2594. 
 renne, run, 2868. 
 renning, running, 551. 
 rente, rent (received), 1443; 
 rent (given for exclusive 
 right to beg), 256. 
 repentaunce, penitence, 1776. 
 replecioun, repletion, 4113. 
 replicacioun, reply, 1846. 
 reportour, reporter, 814. 
 rescous, rescue, 2643. 
 rese, to shake, 1986. 
 resoun, reason, right, 37, 274. 
 resoune, resound, 1278. 
 respyt, delay, 948. 
 rethor, orator, 4397. 
 reule, rule, 173. 
 reuled, ruled, 816. 
 reve, steward, bailiff, agent, 
 542. 
 
GLOSSARY 
 
 325 
 
 revel, revelry, 2717. 
 revers, reverse, contrary, 4167. 
 rewe, have pity, 2382 ; make 
 sorry, 4287. 
 rewe, row, line, 2866. 
 rewful, sorrowful, 2886. 
 reysed, gone on a military ex- 
 pedition, 54. 
 
 richesse, riches, wealth, 1255. 
 right, direct, 2739. 
 right, just, decidedly, very, 257, 
 757. 
 
 rightes, at alle rightes, in all 
 
 respects, 1852. 
 rise, rise, 33. 
 rit, rides, 974. 
 rite, rite, 2284. 
 rome, roam, wander, 1099. 
 ronne, ran, 4578. 
 rood, rode, 169. 
 roos, rose, 823. 
 roost, roast meat, 206. 
 roste, roast, 383. 
 rote, fiddle with three strings 
 (?), 236. 
 
 roughte, recked, cared, 4530. 
 rouketh, cowers, crouches, 
 1308. 
 
 rouncy, dray horse, farm horse, 
 390. 
 
 roundel, roundel, roundelay, 
 1529. 
 
 route, company, troop, rout, 
 889. 
 
 routhe, ruth, pity, 914. 
 rudeliche, rudely, 734. 
 ruggy, rough, 2883. 
 rumbel, rumbling noise, 1979. 
 
 sad, serious, 2985. 
 sadly, firmly, 2602. 
 salue, salute, 1492. 
 sangwyn, sang win, stuff of a 
 blood-red color, 439 ; san- 
 guine (of temperament), 333; 
 very ruddy, 2168. 
 sarge, serge, 2568. 
 saufly, safely, 4398. 
 saugh, saw, 764. 
 sautrye, psaltery (musical in- 
 strument), 296. 
 save, sage, 2713. 
 savinge, except, 2838. 
 sawcefleem, pimpled, 625. 
 sawe, saw, did see, should see, 
 144. 
 
 sawe, saying, saw, 1163 ; say- 
 ing, talk, 1526. 
 say, saw, did see, 4304. 
 scalled, scurfy, 627. 
 scapen, escape, 1107. 
 scarlet, scarlet stuff, 456, 
 scarsly, economically, 583. 
 scathe, a pity, 446. 
 
326 
 
 GLOSSARY 
 
 science, knowledge (of law), 
 316. 
 
 sclendre, slender, scanty, 
 4023. 
 
 scole, school, 125. 
 scoler, scholar, 260. 
 scoleye, attend school, study, 
 302. 
 
 scriptures, writings, treatises, 
 2044. 
 
 seche, seek, 784. 
 secree, secret, trusty, 4105. 
 see, sea, 59. 
 seen, see, 914. 
 seet, sat, 2075. 
 sege, siege, 56. 
 seigh, saw, 193. 
 seistow, sayest thou, 1125. 
 seke, seek, 17. 
 seke, sick, 18, 245. 
 selde, seldom, 1539. 
 selle, sell, barter, 278. 
 selve, self-same, 2584. 
 sely, poor, 4565. 
 seme, seem, 39. 
 semely, seemly, 751 ; becom- 
 ingly, 123. 
 
 semico.pe, half-cope, short 
 cope, 262. 
 
 sendal, thin silk, 440. 
 sene, visible, manifest, 134, 
 924. 
 
 sentence, significance, 306 ; 
 
 meaning, 4355 ; subject, 4404. 
 sergeant of the lawe, ser- 
 geant-at-law, 309. 
 serie, series of reflections, 3067. 
 servage, servitude, 1946. 
 servant, lover, 1814, 2787. 
 servisable, willing to be of 
 service, 99. 
 sesoun, season, 19. 
 seten, hath seten, has sat, 
 1452. 
 
 setes, seats, 2580. 
 sethe, seethe, boil, 383. 
 sette, set ; sette to hire, sold 
 or leased, 507. 
 seuretee, surety, 1604. 
 sewe, follow, 4527. 
 seye, seyn, say, 738. 
 seyen, saw, 4568. 
 seyl, sail, 696. 
 seynd, singed, fried, 4035. 
 seynte, holy, 1721 ; saint, 120. 
 shadwed, shaded, 607. 
 shake, shaken, 406. 
 shal, shall, must, am to, 187, 853. 
 shamfast, modest, 2055. 
 shap, shape, 1889. 
 shape, intend, 772 ; prepare^ 
 809 ; ordain, 1108. 
 j shaply, fit, 372. 
 
 I shave, shaven, 588. 
 
GLOSSARY 
 
 327 
 
 sheef, sheaf, 104. 
 
 sheld, sheeld, shield, 2122; 
 
 name of a coin, 278. 
 shende, harm, injure, 2754, 
 4031. 
 
 shene, bright, 115. 
 shent, shente, see shende. 
 shepne, stable, shed, 2000. 
 shere, pair of shears, 2417. 
 sherte, shirt, 1566. 
 shet, shut, closed, 2597. 
 shine, shin, 386. 
 shipman, sailor, skipper, 388. 
 shirreve, sheriff, 359. 
 shiten, defiled, dirty, 504. 
 sho, shoe, 253. 
 
 shode, temple (of the head), 
 2007. 
 
 shoon, shone, 198. 
 shorte, shorten, 791. 
 shortly, briefly, to be brief, 30. 
 short-sholdred (?),549. 
 shot, missile, arrow, 2544. 
 shoures, showers, 1. 
 shrewe, beshrew, curse, 4616. 
 shrighte, shrieked, 2817. 
 shriked, shrieked, 4590. 
 shul, shall, 1747. 
 shuldres, shoulders, 678. 
 shullen, shall, 3014. 
 sighte, foresight, providence, 
 1672. 
 
 sik, syk, sick, 1600. 
 sike, sigh, 2985. 
 siker, sure, 3049. 
 sikerly, surely, 137. 
 sikes, sighs, 1920. 
 siknes, siknesse, sickness, 
 493, 1256. 
 sin, since, 601. 
 singe, sing, 236. 
 sit, sits, 1599. 
 sithen, since, 2102. 
 sithes, times, 485. 
 sitte, sit, 94. 
 slake, slow, 2901. 
 slaughtre, murder, 2031. 
 slee, slay, 661. 
 sleep, slept, 1474. 
 sleighte, cunning, 604 ; dex- 
 terity, 1948. 
 slepe, sleep, 10. 
 sleepy, sleep-bestowing, 1387. 
 slider, slippery, 1264. 
 slily, cautiously, 1444. 
 slogardye, sluggishness, 1042. 
 slough, slew, 980. 
 smerte, smartly, sharply, 149. 
 smerte, (it) pains, hurts, 230. 
 smiler, smiler, flatterer, 1999. 
 smite, strike, 1220. 
 smokinge, full of smoke, of 
 incense, 2281. 
 smoot, smote, 149. 
 
328 
 
 GLOSSARY 
 
 snewed, snowed, 345. 
 snibben, reprove, 523. 
 socour, succor, help, 918. 
 sodeynliche, suddenly, 1575. 
 sodeynly, suddenly, 1118. 
 softe, softly, 2781. 
 solas, amusement, entertain- 
 ment, 798. 
 
 solempne, imposing, impres- 
 sive, 209 ; important, 364. 
 solempnely, pompously, 274. 
 solempnitee, pomp, 870. 
 som, some ; som . . . som, 
 one . . . another, 1255-1257 ; 
 somme . . . somme, some 
 . . . others, 2516. 
 somdel, somewhat, 174. 
 sorner, summer, 394. 
 somnour, summoner (of delin- 
 quents before the ecclesias- 
 tical courts), 543. 
 somtime, at some time, 65. 
 sondry, various, 14. 
 sone, soon, 1022. 
 song, songe, songen, sang, 
 1055. 
 
 sonne, sun, 7 ; of the sun, 
 1051. 
 
 soor, sore, pain, 1454. 
 soor, wounded, grieved, 2695. 
 sooth, truth, 284. 
 soothly, truly, 117. 
 
 sop, bread or cake in some 
 liquid, 334. 
 soper, supper, 348. 
 sore, sorrow, pang, 2849. 
 sore, sorely, 148. 
 sort, destiny, 844. 
 sorwe, sorrow, 951. 
 sory, mournful, 2004. 
 sote, sweet, 1. 
 sothe, truth, 845. 
 sotil, fine, 2030; skilful, 2049. 
 soule, soul, 510. 
 soun, sound, 674. 
 soune, sowne, sound, 565 ; 
 
 proclaim, 275. 
 souple, pliant, 203. 
 sovereyn, supreme, 67. 
 sovereynly, chiefly, 4552. 
 sowed, sewn, 685. 
 space, space of time, 87 ; room 
 enough, 35 ; course, 176. 
 spak, spoke, 124. 
 sparre, wooden beam, 990. 
 sparth, battle-^xe, 2520. 
 sparwe, sparrow, 626. 
 speces, species, 3013. 
 special, special ; in special, 
 especially, 444. 
 specially, in particular, 15. 
 spede, speed, prosper, 769; 
 
 hasten, 1217. 
 speke, speak, 142. 
 
GLOSSARY 
 
 329 
 
 spere, spear, 114. 
 spiced, foolishly scrupulous, 
 526. 
 
 spicerye, spices and gums, 
 2935. 
 
 spore, spur, 2603. 
 sprad, spread, 2903. 
 spronge, spread abroad, 1437. 
 squyer, squire, 79. 
 stablissed, established, 2995. 
 stape, advanced, 4011. 
 starf, died, 933. 
 startlinge, in constant motion, 
 1502. 
 
 stat, state, condition, 572. 
 statue, statue, picture, 975. 
 stede, place ; in stede of, 
 231. 
 
 stede, steed, 2157. 
 stele, steal, 562. 
 stemed, shone, glowed, 202. 
 stente, leave off, 903 ; stop, 
 2442. 
 
 stepe, bright, 201. 
 
 sterre, star, 268. 
 
 stert, start ; at a stert, in a 
 
 moment (with one bound), 
 1705. 
 
 sterte, start, leap, 952. 
 sterve, die, 1249. 
 stevene, voice, 2562 ; time, 
 1524. 
 
 stewe, fish-pond, 350. 
 stikkes, palings, 4038. 
 stille, quietly, 1003. 
 stinte, leave off, 1334 ; cease, 
 2421. 
 
 stith, anvil, 2026. 
 stiwardes, stewards, 579. 
 stok, stock, race, 1551 ; 
 
 stokkes, stumps, 2934. 
 stoke, stab, 2546. 
 stomblem, stumble, 2613. 
 stonde, stand, 745. 
 stongen, stung, 1079. 
 stoor, stock (of a farm), 598 ; 
 telle no store of, u take no 
 stock in,” 4344. 
 storie, legend of a saint (or the 
 like), 709. 
 
 stot, undersized horse, cob, 615. 
 stounde, hour, any time, 1212. 
 stout, strong, 545 ; brave, 2154. 
 straughte, extended, 2916. 
 straunge, strange, foreign, 13. 
 strecche, stretch, 4498. 
 stree, straw, 2918. 
 streem, stream, 464 ; current, 
 402 ; beams, rays, 1495. 
 streight, straight, 1690 ; 
 
 straightway, 671. 
 streit, narrow, 1984 ; scanty, 
 4179 ; strict, 174 ; drawn (oJ 
 a sword), 4547. 
 
330 
 
 GLOSSARY 
 
 strepe, strip, 1006. 
 streyne, constrain, 4434. 
 strike, hank, 676. 
 strive, strive, struggle, 1177. 
 strond, strand, 13. 
 stroof, strove, vied, 1038. 
 strook, stroke, 1701. 
 stryf, quarrel, strife, 1187. 
 stubbes, stubs, stumps, 1978. 
 subtil, fine-wrought, 1054. 
 subtilly, craftily, 610. 
 suffisaunce, sufficiency, 490 ; 
 
 contentment, 4029. 
 suffisaunt, sufficient, 1631. 
 surcote, surcoat, overcoat, 617. 
 sustene, sustain, 1993. 
 suster, sister, 871. 
 sustren, sisters, 1019. 
 suyte, suit, array, 2873. 
 swelte, grew faint, 1356. 
 swerd, sword, 112. 
 swere, swear, 454. 
 swete, sweet, 5. 
 swevene, dream, 4086. 
 swevenis, dreams, 4111. 
 swich, such, 3. 
 swink, labor, toil, 188. 
 swinke, work, toil, 186. 
 swinkere, laborer, toiler, 531. 
 swough, whistling (of the 
 wind), 1979. 
 swowne, swoon, 913. 
 
 tabard, loose outer garment, 
 somewhat like a blouse, 
 541. 
 
 taffata, taffeta, 440. 
 taille, tally ; by taille, on ac- 
 count, 570. 
 
 tak, take (thou), 1084. 
 take, taken, 3007. 
 takel, set of arrows, archers’ 
 gear, 106. 
 
 tale, tale, 831 ; telle litel tale 
 
 of, to give little heed to, 4308. 
 talen, tell tales, 772. 
 tapicer, upholsterer, 362. 
 tappestere, hostess, barmaid, 
 241. 
 
 targe, target, shield, 471. 
 tarien, delay, waste, 2820. 
 tartre, tartar, 630. 
 tas, heap, 1005. 
 teche, teach, 308 ; direct, 4139. 
 teching, teaching, 518. 
 telle, tell, 38 ; count, 4308, 
 4344. 
 
 temple, inn of court (abode of 
 lawyers), 567. 
 tene, vexation, 3106. 
 terciane, tertian (fever), 4149, 
 tere, tear, 1280. 
 terme, allotted period, 1029; 
 exact words, 323; periods, 
 3028. 
 
GLOSSARY 
 
 331 
 
 testeres, headpieces, 2499. 
 text, quotation from any au- 
 thority, 177. 
 than, thanne, then, 12. 
 thank, expression of thanks, 
 612 ; can thank, owes 
 thanks, 1808 ; his thankes, 
 of his free will, 1626, for his 
 part, 2107 ; hir thankes, for 
 their part, 2114. 
 that, that which, what, 1425. 
 thee, thrive, prosper, 4622. 
 ther, there, 43 ; where, 547 ; 
 
 ther as, where, 172. 
 therto, besides, moreover, 48, 
 153. 
 
 therwithal, with it, 566 ; 
 
 thereupon, 1078. 
 thider, thither, 1263. 
 thiderward, thither, 2530. 
 thikke, thick-set, 549. 
 thikke-herd, thick-haired, 
 2518. 
 
 thilke, that same, that, 182, 
 1193. 
 
 thing, thing or things, brief, 
 writ, deed, etc., 325 ; 
 thinges, holy rites, 2293 ; 
 business matters, 4279. 
 thinketh, it seems, 37. 
 thirle, pierce, 2710. 
 thise, these, 701. 
 
 tho, those, 498. 
 tho, then, 993. 
 
 thoughte (he), he thought, 
 984. 
 
 thoughte (us), it seemed to 
 us, 785. 
 
 thral, enthralled, 1552. 
 threed, thread, 2030. 
 threshe, thrash, 536. 
 threste, thrust, 2612. 
 thridde, third, 1463. 
 thriftily, carefully, 105. 
 throte, throat, 2013. 
 thryes, thrice, 63. 
 thurgh, through, 920. 
 thurghfare, thoroughfare, 
 2847. 
 
 thurgh-girt, pierced through, 
 
 1010. 
 
 thyselven, thyself, 1174. 
 tide, time; tides, tides, 401. 
 tigre, tiger, 2626. 
 tiraunt, tyrant, 961. 
 til, to, 180. 
 til, till, until, 1760. 
 tipet, tippet, cape, 233. 
 tiptoon, tiptoes, 4497. 
 to, too, toe, 2726; toon, toes, 
 4052 ; toos, toes, 4370. 
 tobreste, break in pieces, 2611. 
 tobrosten, broken in pieces, 
 2691. 
 
332 
 
 GLOSSARY 
 
 togidre, together, 824. 
 tohewen, hew in twain, 2609. 
 tollen, take toll (as a miller 
 pays himself with meal), 562. 
 tonge, tongue, 265. 
 tonne-greet, great as a tun, 
 1994. 
 
 tool, weapon, 4106. 
 top, top of the head, 590. 
 toshrede, cut into shreds, 2609. 
 toun, town, 217. 
 tour, tower, 1030. 
 touret, toret, turret, 1909 ; on 
 the collar of a dog, a projec- 
 tion that revolves and is 
 pierced for a ring, swivel- 
 ring, 2152. 
 
 traitour, traitor, 1130. 
 trapped, furnished with trap- 
 pings, 2890. 
 
 trappures, trappings (for 
 horses), 2499. 
 traunce, trance, 1572. 
 trays, traces (of harness), 
 2139. 
 
 trecherye, treachery, 4520. 
 trede, tread, 3022. 
 tresoun, treason, 2001. 
 tretee, treaty, 1288. 
 tretis, well-proportioned, 152. 
 trewe, true, 531. 
 trewely, truly, 481. 
 
 trompe, trumpet, 674 ; trum- 
 peter, 2671. 
 
 tronchoun, shaft of a spear, 
 
 2615. 
 
 trone, throne, 2529. 
 trouthe, truth, 46 ; promise, 
 1610. 
 
 trowe, believe, 155. 
 trussed, packed, 681. 
 tukked, tucked, 621. 
 turne, turn, 1488. 
 turneyinge, tournament, 2557. 
 tweye, two, 704. 
 tweyne, twain, 1134. 
 twines, of twine, 2030. 
 
 uncouth, strange, rare, 2497. 
 undergrowe, of short stature, 
 156. 
 
 undern, latter part of the fore- 
 noon, more precisely about 
 eleven, 4412. 
 
 undernethe, beneath, 2077. 
 undertake, affirm, 288 ; con- 
 duct affairs, 405. 
 unknowe, unknown, 126. 
 unkonning, inexperienced, 
 2393. 
 
 unset, unappointed, 1524. 
 unwist, unknown, 2977. 
 unyolden, without having 
 yielded, 2642. 
 
GLOSSARY 
 
 333 
 
 up, on, 1707. 
 uphaf, uplifted, 2428. 
 upright, face upward, 2008. 
 upriste, uprising, 1051. 
 up-so-doun, upside down, 
 1377. 
 
 upyaf, gave up, 2427. 
 up-yolden, yielded up, 3052. 
 us, us, 748 ; for us, 747. 
 usage, experience, 2448. 
 
 vanishinge, vanishing, disap- 
 pearance, 2360. 
 
 vasselage, good service, prow- 
 ess, 3054. 
 
 vavasour, sub-vassal (inferior 
 to baron), 360. 
 venerye, hunting, 166. 
 venim, venom, poison, 2751. 
 ventusinge, cupping (surgical 
 operation), 2747. 
 verdit, verdict, 787. 
 vernicle, vernicle, 685. 
 verraily, truly, 338. 
 verray, true, very, 72. 
 vers, verses, 4503. 
 vertu, virtue, 307 ; power, 4, 
 2249. 
 
 vertuous, able to raise money, 
 251. 
 
 vese, veze, gust (of wind), 
 1985. 
 
 vestiments, garments, 2948. 
 veyl, vail, 695. 
 veyn, vain, false, 1094. 
 veyne- blood, blood-letting, 
 2747. 
 
 viage, voyage, journey, 77, 723. 
 vigilyes, festival eves, 377. 
 vileinye, unseemly language 
 or conduct or thought, any 
 sign of low breeding or vile 
 nature, disgrace, 2729. 
 visite, visit, 493. 
 vitaille, victuals, provisions, 
 248. 
 
 vouche sauf, agree, consent, 
 807, 812. 
 
 voyden, to get rid of, 2751. 
 voys, voice, 688. 
 
 waille, wail, 931. 
 wake-pleyes, funeral games, 
 
 2960. 
 
 wal, wall, 1909. 
 walet, wallet, 686. 
 walke, walk, 2309. 
 wan, won, 442. 
 wanhope, despair, 1249. 
 wanie, wane, 2078. 
 wantoun, free, unconstrained, 
 208. 
 
 wantounesse, gayety, 264. 
 war, wary, 309 ; aware, 157. 
 
334 
 
 GLOSSARY 
 
 war him, let him beware, 662. 
 waste, ruined, 1331. 
 wastel breed, choice bread, 
 147. 
 
 waterlees, out of the water, 
 180. 
 
 wawe, wave, 1958. 
 wayke, weak, 887. 
 wayle, wail, 1221. 
 waymentinge, lamentation, 
 
 995. 
 
 wayte, watch, 571 ; wayte 
 after, look for, expect, 525 ; 
 seek occasion, 1222. 
 webbe, weaver, 362. 
 wed, security ; to wedde, in 
 pledge, 1218. 
 wedde, wed, 868. 
 wede, clothing, 1006. 
 weel, well, 2123. 
 wel, well, 384 ; fully, 24. 
 wele, well, 2231. 
 wele, happiness, 895. 
 welle, source, spring, 3037. 
 wende, weende, fancied, 1269. 
 wende, go, 16 ; pass away, 
 3025 ; he wente him, he 
 went, 2270. 
 
 wene, ween, think, fancy, 
 1804. 
 
 wepe, weep, 144. 
 wepne, weapon, 1591. 
 
 were, wear, 75. 
 
 were, defend, 2550. 
 
 werk, work, 479. 
 
 werke, work, 779. 
 
 werre, war, 47. 
 
 werreye, make war, 1484 ; 
 
 make war against, 1544. 
 werte, wart, 555. 
 wesh, washed, 2283. 
 wete, wet, 1280. 
 
 wex, wax, 675. 
 
 wexe, grow, become, 3024. 
 
 wey, weye, way, 791. 
 weye, weigh, 1781. 
 weylaway, alas, 938. 
 weyle, see wayle. 
 whan, whanne, when, 18. 
 what, why, 184. 
 whelkes, pimples, blotches, 
 
 632. 
 
 whelp, cub, 2627 ; whelpe, 
 puppy, 257. 
 
 wher, where, 897 ; wherever, 
 2252. 
 
 wher, whether, 2397. 
 whether, which (of two), 
 1856. 
 
 which, which, 161 ; who, 1412 ; 
 whom, 568 ; what kind of 
 (men), 40 ; which a, wliat a, 
 2675 ; which that, who, 986, 
 whilom, once, formerly, 795. 
 
GLOSSARY 
 
 335 
 
 whippeltre, cornel tree, 2923. 
 whyl, while, 35. 
 whyt, white, 238. 
 widwe, widow, 253. 
 wight, person, living being, 71, 
 280. 
 
 wighte, weight, 2145. 
 wike, week, 1539. 
 wikke, wicked, evil, 1087. 
 wilfully, voluntarily, 4557, 
 4622. 
 
 wille, pleasure, desire, 1317. 
 wilne, desire, 2114. 
 wilow, willow tree, 2922. 
 wiltow, wilt thou, 1156. 
 wimpel, wimple, 151. 
 wirche, work, 2759. 
 wise, way, manner, 1743. 
 wisly, surely, truly, 1863. 
 wiste, knew, 224. 
 wit, judgment, understanding, 
 279. 
 
 wite, know, 1260. 
 with, by, 2018, 2724. 
 withholde, kept in retirement, 
 
 511. 
 
 withouten, withoute, with- 
 out, 538 ; besides, 461. 
 withseyn, withseye, gainsay, 
 805 ; deny, 1140. 
 witing, knowledge, 1611. 
 wive, wives, see wyf. 
 
 wlatsom, hateful, 4243. 
 wo, lamentation, 900 ; wo 
 was his cook, woe to his 
 cook, 351. 
 wode, wood, 2297. 
 wodebinde, woodbine, 1508. 
 wofuller, sadder, 1340. 
 wol, wolt, woltow, woln, 
 wold, wolde, wolden, will, 
 wilt, wilt thou, would, etc., 
 42, 144, 1544. 
 
 wommanhede, womanly feel- 
 ing, 1748. 
 
 wonder, wonderful, 2073 ; 
 
 wondrously, 1654. 
 wonderly, wondrously, 84. 
 wone, habit, wont, 335. 
 wone, dwell, 388, 2927. 
 woning, dwelling, house, 606. 
 wonne, conquered, 51. 
 wood, mad, 582. 
 woodly, madly, 1301. 
 woodnesse, madness, 2011. 
 wook, awoke, 1393. 
 woot, know, 389 ; wost, 
 knowest, 1174 ; wostow 
 knowest thou, 1163. 
 worship, honor, 1912. 
 worshipe, reverence, 2251. 
 worshipful, honorable, 1435. 
 wortes, herbs, 4411. 
 worthinesse, bravery, 50. 
 
336 
 
 GLOSSARY 
 
 worthy, distinguished, 47 ; 
 
 wealthy, respectable, 217. 
 wostow, knowest thou, 2304. 
 wrastle, wrestle, 2961. 
 wrecche, wretched, 1106 ; sor- 
 rowful creature, 931. 
 wreke, wreak, avenge, 96 L 
 wrethe, wreath, crown, 2145. 
 wrighte, workman, 614. 
 writ, writes, 4313. 
 wrooth, wroth, angry, 451. 
 wroughte, wrought, 497. 
 wyd, wide, 491. 
 wyf, wife, 445 ; to wive, to 
 wife, 1860 ; wives, women, 
 wives, 234. 
 wyn, wine, 334. 
 wys, wis, surely, 2786. 
 wys, wise, 68 ; make it wys, 
 be too particular about it, 785. 
 
 yaf, gave, 1441 ; cared, 177. 
 ybeen, been, 4487. 
 ybete, beaten, 979. 
 ybore, yborn, carried, borne, 
 378, 2694. 
 yborn, born, 1019. 
 ybounden, bound, 1149. 
 ybrent, burnt, 946. 
 y brought, brought, 1111. 
 y clenched, clenched, riveted, 
 1991. 
 
 ycleped, yclept, called, 410, 
 
 376. 
 
 yclothed, clothed, clad, 1048. 
 ycome, come, 77. 
 ycorve, cut, 2013. 
 ydo, done, 2534. 
 ydon, done, 2676. 
 ydoon, done, 4610. 
 y dr a we, drawn, 396. 
 ydriven, driven, 2007. 
 ydropped, bedropped, 2884. 
 ye, ye, you, 769. 
 ye, eye, 10. 
 yeddinges, songs, 237. 
 yeer, year, 347. 
 yeldehalle, guild hall, 370. 
 yelding, produce, 596. 
 yelleden, yelled, 4579. 
 yelpe, boast, 2238. 
 yelwe, yellow, 1929. 
 yeman, yeoman, 101. 
 yemanly, like a yeoman, 106. 
 yerd, yard, garden, 4037. 
 yerde, rod, wand, 1387 ; 
 switch, 149; yard (length), 
 1050. 
 
 yet, moreover, 612 ; as yet, 
 291 ; yet now, just now. : 
 1156. 
 
 yeve, give, 232. 
 yfalle, fallen, # 25. 
 yfetered, fettered, 1229. 
 
GLOSSARY 
 
 337 
 
 yfounde, found, 1211. 
 ygo, gone, 286. 
 
 ygrounde, ground, whetted, 
 2549. 
 
 yholde, held, regarded, 2374 ; 
 
 held, celebrated, 2958. 
 yhurt, hurt, 2709. 
 yif, give (thou), 2260. 
 yiftes, gifts, 2198. 
 yive, give, 225. 
 yiven, given, 915. 
 yknowe, known, 423. 
 ylad, drawn, 530. 
 ylaft, left, 2746. 
 yliche, alike, 2526. 
 ylogged, lodged, 4181. 
 ylyk, like, 592 ; alike, 2734 ; 
 
 ylyke, like, 1539. 
 ymaked, made, 2065. 
 ymet, met, 2624. 
 ymeynd, mixed, mingled, 2170. 
 ynough, enough, 373. 
 yolle, shout, 2672. 
 yond, yonder, 1099. 
 yong, young, 79. 
 yore agoon, for a long time, 
 1813. 
 
 youling, loud lamentation, 
 1278. 
 
 yow, you, 34. 
 ypayed, paid, 1802. 
 ypreved, proved, 485. 
 y punished, punished, 657. 
 yraft, snatched away, 2015. 
 yronne, run, 8 ; clustered, 
 2165; was yronnen in, had 
 rushed to, 2693. 
 yscalded, scalded, 2020. 
 ysene, visible, 592. 
 yserved, served, 963. 
 yset, appointed, 1635. 
 yseyled, sailed, 4289. 
 yshorn, shorn, 589. 
 y shrive, shriven, 226. 
 yslayn, slain, 2708. 
 yspreynd, sprinkled, 2169. 
 ystiked, stuck, 1565. 
 ystorve, dead, 2014. 
 ysworn, sworn, 1132. 
 ytaught, taught, 127. 
 yteyd, tied, 457. 
 ywedded, wedded, 3098. 
 ywimpled, provided with a 
 wimple, 470. 
 
 ywis, certainly, truly, 4389. 
 ywrite, written, 4632. 
 ywrye, covered, 2904. 
 
 Printed in the United States of America. 
 

 
 
 
 
 
Macmillan’s 
 
 Pocket Series of English Classics 
 
 Cloth Uniform in Size and Binding 25 cents each 
 
 Addison’s Sir Slower de Coverley. Edited by Zelma Gray, 
 
 East Side High School, Saginaw, Mich. 
 
 Andersen’s Pairy Tales. Translated from the Danish by 
 Caroline Peachey and H. W. Dulcken. With bio- 
 graphical notes and introduction by Sarah C. Brooks, 
 Training School, Baltimore, Md. 
 
 Arabian Nights. Edited by Clifton Johnson. 
 
 Arnold’s Sohrab and Rustum and other Poems. Edited 
 by Justus Collins Castleman, Bloomington High 
 School, Bloomington, Ind. 
 
 Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. Edited by J. W. Heermans. 
 Austen’s Sense and Sensibility. Edited by Edwin L. Miller. 
 Bacon’s Essays. Edited by Professor George Herbert 
 Clarke, Mercer University, Macon, Ga. 
 
 Baker’s Out of the Northland. 
 
 Blackmore’s Eoraa Boone. Edited by Albert L. Barbour, 
 Superintendent of Schools, Natick, Mass. 
 
 Boswell’s Eife of Johnson. Abridged. Edited by Mary H. 
 
 Watson. 
 
 Browning’s Shorter Poems. Edited by Franklin T. Baker, 
 Teachers College, New York City. 
 
 Mrs. Browning’s Poems. Selections. Edited by Heloise 
 E. Hersey. 
 
 Bryant’s Thanatopsis, Sella, and other Poems. Edited by 
 J. H. Castleman, Michigan Military Academy, Orchard 
 Lake, Mich. 
 
 Bulwer-Eytton’s East Bays of Pompeii. Edited by J. H. 
 Castleman. 
 
 Banyan’s The Pilgrim’s Progress. Edited by Processor 
 Hugh Moffatt, Central High School, Philadelphia, Pa. 
 Burke’s Speech on Conciliation. Edited by S. C. Newsom, 
 Manual Training High School, Indianapolis, Ind. 
 Bums’ Poems and Songs. Selected by P. M. Buck, Jr. 
 Byron’s Shorter Poems. Edited by Ralph Hartt Bowles, 
 Instructor in English in The Phillips Exeter Academy, 
 Exeter, N. H. 
 
 Byron’s Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage. Edited by A. J. 
 George. 
 
 Carlyle’s Essay on Burns, with Selections. Edited by 
 Willard C. Gore, Armour Institute, Chicago, 111. 
 Carlyle’s Heroes and Hero Worship. Edited by Mrs* 
 Annie Russell Marble. 
 
 Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland. Edit*id by Charles A* 
 McMurry, 
 
Pocket Series of English Classics- -Continued 
 
 Chaucer’s Prologue to the Book of the Tales of Canter- 
 bury* th<* Knight’s Tale, and the Nun’s Priest’s Tale, 
 
 Edited by Andrew I?*graiiam. 
 
 Church’s The Story of the Iliad. 
 
 Church’s The Story of the Odyssey. 
 
 Coleridge’s The Ancient Mariner. Edited by T. F. Hunt- 
 ington, Leland Stanford Junior University. 
 
 Cooper’s Last of the Mohicans. Edited by W. K. Wickes, 
 Principal of the High School, Syracuse, N. Y. 
 Cooper’s The Beersiayer. 
 
 Cooper’s The Spy. Edited by Samuel Thurber, Jr. 
 
 Dana’s Two Years before the Mast. Edited by Homer E. 
 Keyes, Dartmouth College. 
 
 Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe. Abridged. Edited by Clifton 
 
 Johnson. 
 
 Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe. Part I Edited by Charles R. 
 
 Gaston. 
 
 DeQuincey’s Confessions of an English Opium-Hater. 
 
 Edited by Arthur Beatty, University of Wisconsin. 
 
 DeQuincey’s Joan ol Arc and The English Mail-Coach. 
 
 Edited by Carol M. Newman, Virginia Polytechnic 
 Institute. 
 
 Dickens’s A Christmas Carol and The Cricket on the 
 Hearth. Edited by James M. Sawin and Ida M. Thomas. 
 Dickens’s David Copperfield. Edited by Edwin Fairley. 2 
 vols. 
 
 Dickens’s A Tale of Two Cities. Edited by H. G. Buehler, 
 Hotchkiss School- Lakeville, Conn., and L. Mason. 
 Dryden’s Falamon and Arcite. Edited by Percival Chubb, 
 Early American Orations, 1760-1824. Edited by Louie R. 
 Heller. Instructor in English in the De Witt Clinton 
 High School, New York City. 
 
 Edward’s Sermons. Selections. Edited by H. N. Gardiner, 
 Professor of Philosophy, Smith College. 
 
 Emerson’s Earlier Poems. Edited bv O. C. Gallagher. 
 Emerson’s Essays. Selected. Edited by Eugene D. 
 Holmes. 
 
 Emerson’s Representative Men. Edited by Philo Melvyn 
 Buck, Jr., William McKinley High School, St. Louis, 
 Mo. 
 
 English Narrative Poems. Edited by Claude N. Fuess and 
 Henry W, Sanborn. 
 
 Epoch-making Papers in United States History. Edited by 
 
 M. S. Brown, New York University. 
 
 Pranklin’s Autobiography. 
 
 Mrs. Gaskell’s Cranford. Edited by Professor Martin W. 
 
 Sampson, Indiana University. 
 
 George Eliot’s Silas Marner. Edited by E. L. Gulick, 
 Lawrenceville School, Lawrenceville, N. J. 
 
 George Eliot’s Mill on the Ploss. Edited by Ida Aushhk- 
 
 mann. 
 
 Goldsmith’s The Deserted Village and The Traveller 
 
 Edited by Robert N. Whiteford, High School, Peoria, 
 
Pocket Series of English Classics — Continued 
 
 Goldsmith’s Vicar of Wakefield. Edited by H. \v. Boyn- 
 ton, Phillips Academy, Andover, Mass. 
 
 Gray’s Elegy and Cowper’s Joim Gilpin. Edited by J. H. 
 
 Castleman. 
 
 Grimm’s Fairy Tales. Edited by James H. Fassett, Super- 
 intendent of Schools, Nashua, N. H. 
 
 Hale’s The Man Without a Country. Edited by S. M. 
 
 Tucker. 
 
 Hawthorne’s Grandfather’s Chair. Edited by H. H. Kings- 
 ley, Superintendent of Schools, Evanston, 111. 
 Hawthorne’s The House of the Seven Gables. Edited by 
 
 Clyde Furst. 
 
 Hawthorne’s Mosses from an Old Manse. Edited by C. E. 
 
 Burbank. 
 
 Hawthorne’s Tangle wood Tales. Edited by R. H. Beggs. 
 Hawthorne’s Twice-Told Tales. Edited by C. R. Gaston. 
 Hawthorne’s The Wonder-Book. Edited by L. E. Wolfe, 
 Superintendent of Schools, San Antonio, Texas. 
 Holmes’ Autocrat of the Breakfast Table. Preparing. 
 
 Holmes’ Poems (Selections). Edited by J. H. Castleman, 
 Homer’s Iliad. Translated by Lang, Leaf and Myers. 
 Homer’s Odyssey. Translated by Butcher and Lang. 
 Hughes’ Tom Brown’s School Days. Edited by Charles 
 S. Thomas. 
 
 Huxley’s Essays and Addresses. Selections. Edited by P. 
 
 M. Buck. 
 
 Saving’s Alhambra. Edited by Alfred M. Hitchcock, 
 Public High School, Hartford, Conn. 
 
 Irving’s Knickerbocker’s History of Hew York. Edited by 
 Prof. E. A. Greenlaw, Adelphi College, New York City. 
 Irving’s Life of Goldsmith. Edited by Gilbert Sykes 
 Blakely, Teacher of English in the Morris High 
 School, New York City. 
 
 Irving’s Sketch Book. 
 
 Irving’s Tales of a Traveler. Edited by Jennie Chase. 
 Keary’s Heroes of Asgard. Edited by Charles H. Morss. 
 & Kempis’ Imitation of Christ. Edited by Brother Leo. 
 Hingsley’s The Heroes : Greek Fairy Tales. Edited by 
 
 Charles A. McMurry, Ph.D. 
 
 Iamb’s Essays of Elia. Edited by Helen J. Robins. 
 Lamb’s Tales from Shakespeare. Edited by A. Ainger. 
 Lincoln’s Addresses. Edited by Percival Chubb. 
 
 Lockhart’s Lif© of Scott. Selections. Preparing. 
 
 Longfellow’s Courtship of Miles Standard. Edited by 
 Homer P. Lewis. 
 
 Longfellow’s Courtship of Miles Standish, and Minor 
 Poems. Edited by W. D. Howe, Butler College, In- 
 dianapolis, Ind. 
 
 Longfellow’s Evangeline.. Edited by Lewis B. Semplh, 
 Commercial High School, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 Longfellow’s The Song of Hiawatha. Edited by Elizabeth 
 J. Fleming, Teachers’ Training School, Baltimore, Md. 
 
Pocket Series of English Classics — Continued 
 
 Rongfellow’s Tales of a Wayside Inn. Edited by J. HL 
 
 Castleman. 
 
 Rowell’s Vision of Sir Raunfal. Edited by Herbert E. 
 
 Bates, Manual Training High School, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 Macaulay’s Essay on Addison. Edited by C. W. French, 
 Principal of Hyde Park High School, Chicago, 111. 
 Macaulay’s Essay on Clive. Edited by J. W. Pearce, As- 
 sistant Professor of English in Tulane University. 
 Macaulay’s Essay on Johnson. Edited by William Schuy- 
 ler, Assistant Principal of the St. Louis High School. 
 Macaulay’s Essay on Milton. Edited by C. W. French. 
 Macaulay’s Essay on Warren Eastings. Edited by Mrs. 
 
 M. J. Frick, Los Angeles, Cal. 
 
 Macaulay’s Rays of Ancient Rome, and other Poems. 
 Edited by Franklin T. Baker, Teachers College 
 Columbia University. 
 
 Malory’s Morte d’ Arthur (Selections). Edited by D. W. 
 
 SWIGGETT. 
 
 Memorable Passages from the Bible (Authorized Version). 
 Selected and edited by Fred Newton Scott, Professor 
 of Rhetoric in the University of Michigan. 
 
 Milton’s Comus, Rycidas, and other Poems. Edited by 
 
 Samuel E. Allen. 
 
 Milton’s Paradise Rost, Books I and H. Edited by W. I. 
 
 Crane. 
 
 Old English Ballads. Edited by William D. Armes, of the 
 
 Uni\ersity of California. 
 
 Old Testament Selections. Edited by F. N. Scott. 
 
 Oral English. Selections. Preparing . 
 
 Out of the Northland. Edited by Emilie Kip Baker. 
 Falgrave’s Golden Treasury of Sengs and Ryrics. 
 Parkman’s Oregon Trail, Edited by C. H. J. Douglas. 
 Plutarch’s Rives of Caesar, Brutus, and Antony. Edited 
 by Martha Brier, Polytechnic High School, Oakland, 
 Cal. 
 
 Poems, Narrative and Ryrical. Edited by Robert P. St. 
 
 John. 
 
 Poe’s Poems. Edited by Charles W. Kent, University of 
 Virginia. 
 
 Poe’K Prose Tales. Selections. 
 
 Pope’s Homer's Iliad. Books I, VI, Sin, 2TXIV. Edited 
 
 by Albert Smyth, Head Professor of English Language 
 and Literature, Central High School, Philadelphia, Pa. 
 Pope’s Homer’s Iliad. Complete. Edited by C. E. Rhodes. 
 Pope’s Homer’s Odyssey. Edited by E. S. and Waldo 
 
 Shu m way. 
 
 Pope’s The Rape of the Rock. Edited by Elizabeth M. 
 
 King. 
 
 Christina Rossetti’s Poems. Selections. Edited by 
 
 Charles Bell Burke. 
 
 Ruskin’s Crown of Wild Olive and the Queen of the Air* 
 
 Edited by W, F, Melton, 
 
Pocket Series of English Classics — Continued 
 
 Buskin’s Sesame and Lilies and The King of the Oolde* 
 River. Edited by Herbert E. Bates. 
 
 Scott’s Ivanhoe. Edited by Alfred M. Hitchcock. 
 
 Scott’s Kenilworth. Edited by J. H. Castleman. 
 
 Scott’s Lady of the Lake. Edited by Elizabeth A. Pack- 
 ard. 
 
 Scott’s Lay of the Last Minstrel. Edited by Ralph H. 
 Bowles. 
 
 Scott’s Mannion. Edited by George B. Aiton, State In- 
 spector of High Schools for Minnesota. 
 
 Scott’s Quentin Durward. Edited by Arthur Llewellyn 
 Eno, Instructor in the University of Illinois. 
 
 Scott’s The Talisman. Edited by Frederick Treudley, 
 State Normal College, Ohio University. 
 
 Select Orations. Edited by A. M. Hall. 
 
 Selected Poems for Required Reading in Secondary Schools. 
 
 Edited by H. N. Boynton. 
 
 Shakespeare’s As You Like It. Edited by Charles Robert 
 Gaston. 
 
 Shakespeare’s Hamlet. Edited by L. A. Sherman, Professor 
 of English Literature in the University of Nebraska. 
 Shakespeare’s Henry V. Edited by Ralph Hartt Bowles, 
 Phillips Exeter Academy, Exeter, N. H. 
 
 Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar. Edited by George W’. Huf- 
 ford and Lois G. Hufford, High School, Indianapolis, 
 Ind. 
 
 Shakespeare’s King Lear. Edited by Philo M. Buck. 
 Shakespeare’s Macbeth. Edited by C. W. French. 
 Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice. Edited by Charlotte 
 W. Underwood, Lewis Institute, Chicago, 111. 
 Shakespeare’s Midsummer Night’s Dream. Edited by E. C. 
 Noyes. 
 
 Shakespeare’s Richard IL Edited by James Hugh Mof- 
 fatt. 
 
 Shakespeare’s The Tempest. Edited by S. C. Newson. 
 Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night. Edited by Edward [P. 
 Morton. 
 
 Shelley and Keats Poems. Selections. Edited by S. C. 
 Newson. 
 
 Sheridan’s The Rivals, and The School for Scandal, Edited 
 by W. D. Howe. 
 
 Short Stories. A Collection, Edited by L. A. Pittenger. 
 Southern Orators. Edited by J. H. McConnell. 
 
 Southern Poets. Selections. Edited by W. L. Weber. 
 Spenser’s Paerie Queene, Book I. Edited by George Arm- 
 strong WIauchope, Professor of English in the South 
 Carolina College 
 
 Stevenson’s Kidnapped. Edited by John Thompson Brown. 
 Stevenson’s Master of Ballantrae. Edited by H. A. White. 
 Stevenson’s Travels with a Donkey and an Inland Voyage, 
 
 Edited by W. L. Cross. 
 
 Stevenson’s Treasure Island. Edited by H. A. Vance, 
 
 Professor of English in the University of Nashville. 
 
Pocket Series of English Classics — Continued 
 
 Swift's Gulliver's Travels. Edited by Clifton Johnson. 
 Tennyson's Idylls of the King 1 . Edited by Charles W. 
 
 French. 
 
 Tennyson’s In Memoriam. Edited by J. W. Pearce. 
 Tennyson’s Shorter Po ems. Edited by Charles Read 
 
 Nutter. 
 
 Tennyson’s The Princess. Edited by Wilson Farrand. 
 Thackeray’s Henry Esmond. Edited by John Bell Henne- 
 man. University of the South, Sewanee, Tenn. 
 Thackeray’s English Humorists. Edited by J. C. Castle- 
 man. 
 
 Thoreau’s Walden. Edited by Byron Ries. 
 
 Trevelyan’s Eife of Macaulay. Selections. Preparing. 
 
 Virgil’s Aeneid. Translated by Conington. Edited by 
 Edgar S. Shumway. 
 
 Washington's Parewell Address, and Webster’s Pirst Bun- 
 ker Hill Oration. Edited by William T. Peck. 
 Whittier’s Snowbound and other Early Poems. Edited by 
 A. Li . Bouton. 
 
 John Woolman’s Journal. 
 
 Wordsworth’s Shorter Poems. Edited by Edward Fulton 
 

>31 
 
 BOSTON COLLEGE 
 
 0 
 
 71 
 
 1 1 
 
 .-TL S' 
 
 O q, A 
 
 o J 2 ’y 
 
 ^ w 6 t 
 
 BOSTON COLLEGE LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY HEIGHTS 
 CHESTNUT HILL, MASS. 
 
 Books may be kept for two weeks and may be 
 renewed for the same period, unless reserved. 
 
 Two cents a day is charged for each book kept 
 overtime. 
 
 If you cannot find what you want, ask the 
 Librarian who will be glad to help you. 
 
 The borrower is responsible for books drawn 
 on his card and for all fines accruing on the same.