Canterbury Tales and Other Poems by Geoffrey Chaucer (best summer reads .TXT) 📕

man may there waxe sick nor old: Yet was there more joy a thousand fold *moreover Than I can tell, or ever could or might; There ever is clear day, and never night.

 

Under a tree, beside a well, I sey saw Cupid our lord his arrows forge and file; polish And at his feet his bow all ready lay; And well his daughter temper’d, all the while, The heades in the well; and with her wile cleverness She couch’d* them after, as they shoulde serve *arranged in order Some for to slay, and some to wound and kerve. carve, cut Then was I ware of Pleasance anon right, And of Array, and Lust, and Courtesy,

And of the Craft, that can and hath the might To do* by force a wight to do folly; make Disfigured was she, I will not lie; *disguised And by himself, under an oak, I guess, Saw I Delight, that stood with Gentleness.

 

Then saw I Beauty, with a nice attire, And Youthe, full of game and jollity,

Foolhardiness, Flattery, and Desire,

Messagerie, and Meed, and other three; <12>

Their names shall not here be told for me: And upon pillars great of jasper long

I saw a temple of brass y-founded strong.

 

And [all] about the temple danc’d alway Women enough, of whiche some there were Fair of themselves, and some of them were gay In kirtles* all dishevell’d went they there; tunics That was their office ever, from year to year; *duty, occupation And on the temple saw I, white and fair, Of doves sitting many a thousand pair. <13>

 

Before the temple door, full soberly,

Dame Peace sat, a curtain in her hand; And her beside, wonder discreetely,

Dame Patience sitting there I fand, found With face pale, upon a hill of sand;

And althernext, within and eke without, Behest,* and Art, and of their folk a rout.* Promise **crowd Within the temple, of sighes hot as fire I heard a swough,* that gan aboute ren,* murmur **run Which sighes were engender’d with desire, That made every hearte for to bren burn Of newe flame; and well espied I then, That all the cause of sorrows that they dree endure Came of the bitter goddess Jealousy.

 

The God Priapus <14> saw I, as I went

Within the temple, in sov’reign place stand, In such array, as when the ass him shent* <15> *ruined With cry by night, and with sceptre in hand: Full busily men gan assay and fand endeavour Upon his head to set, of sundry hue,

Garlandes full of freshe flowers new.

 

And in a privy corner, in disport,

Found I Venus and her porter Richess,

That was full noble and hautain* of her port; *haughty <16>

Dark was that place, but afterward lightness I saw a little, unneth* it might be less; *scarcely And on a bed of gold she lay to rest,

Till that the hote sun began to west. decline towards the wesr Her gilded haires with a golden thread Y-bounden were, untressed,* as she lay; *loose And naked from the breast unto the head Men might her see; and, soothly for to say, The remnant cover’d, welle to my pay, satisfaction <17>

Right with a little kerchief of Valence;<18>

There was no thicker clothe of defence.

 

The place gave a thousand savours swoot; sweet And Bacchus, god of wine, sat her beside; And Ceres next, that *doth of hunger boot;*<19> relieves hunger

And, as I said, amiddes* lay Cypride, <20> *in the midst To whom on knees the younge folke cried To be their help: but thus I let her lie, And farther in the temple gan espy,

 

<See note 21 for the stories of the lovers in the next two stanzas>

 

That, in despite of Diana the chaste,

Full many a bowe broke hung on the wall, Of maidens, such as go their time to waste In her service: and painted over all

Of many a story, of which I touche shall A few, as of Calist’, and Atalant’,

And many a maid, of which the name I want. do not have Semiramis, Canace, and Hercules,

Biblis, Dido, Thisbe and Pyramus,

Tristram, Isoude, Paris, and Achilles, Helena, Cleopatra, Troilus,

Scylla, and eke the mother of Romulus; All these were painted on the other side, And all their love, and in what plight they died.

 

When I was come again into the place

That I of spake, that was so sweet and green, Forth walk’d I then, myselfe to solace: Then was I ware where there sat a queen, That, as of light the summer Sunne sheen Passeth the star, right so *over measure out of all proportion*

She fairer was than any creature.

 

And in a lawn, upon a hill of flowers, Was set this noble goddess of Nature;

Of branches were her halles and her bowers Y-wrought, after her craft and her measure; Nor was there fowl that comes of engendrure That there ne were prest,* in her presence, *ready <22>

To *take her doom,* and give her audience. receive her decision

 

For this was on Saint Valentine’s Day, When ev’ry fowl cometh to choose her make, mate Of every kind that men thinken may;

And then so huge a noise gan they make, That earth, and sea, and tree, and ev’ry lake, So full was, that unnethes* there was space *scarcely For me to stand, so full was all the place.

 

And right as Alain, in his Plaint of Kind, <23>

Deviseth* Nature of such array and face; *describeth In such array men mighte her there find.

This noble Emperess, full of all grace, Bade ev’ry fowle take her owen place,

As they were wont alway, from year to year, On Saint Valentine’s Day to stande there.

 

That is to say, the *fowles of ravine birds of prey*

Were highest set, and then the fowles smale, That eaten as them Nature would incline; As worme-fowl, of which I tell no tale; But waterfowl sat lowest in the dale,

And fowls that live by seed sat on the green, And that so many, that wonder was to see’n.

 

There mighte men the royal eagle find, That with his sharpe look pierceth the Sun; And other eagles of a lower kind,

Of which that *clerkes well devise con; which scholars well There was the tyrant with his feathers dun can describe*

And green, I mean the goshawk, that doth pine cause pain To birds, for his outrageous ravine. slaying, hunting The gentle falcon, that with his feet distraineth grasps The kinge’s hand; <24> the hardy* sperhawk eke, pert The quaile’s foe; the merlion <25> that paineth Himself full oft the larke for to seek; There was the dove, with her eyen meek; The jealous swan, against his death that singeth; in anticipation of The owl eke, that of death the bode bringeth. *omen The crane, the giant, with his trumpet soun’; The thief the chough; and eke the chatt’ring pie; The scorning jay; <26> the eel’s foe the heroun; The false lapwing, full of treachery; <27>

The starling, that the counsel can betray; The tame ruddock,* and the coward kite; robin-redbreast The cock, that horologe is of *thorpes lite. clock *little villages*

 

The sparrow, Venus’ son; <28> the nightingale, That calleth forth the freshe leaves new; <29>

The swallow, murd’rer of the bees smale, That honey make of flowers fresh of hue; The wedded turtle, with his hearte true; The peacock, with his angel feathers bright; <30>

The pheasant, scorner of the cock by night; <31>

 

The waker goose; <32> the cuckoo ever unkind; <33>

The popinjay,* full of delicacy; *parrot The drake, destroyer of his owen kind; <34>

The stork, the wreaker* of adultery; <35> *avenger The hot cormorant, full of gluttony; <36>

The raven and the crow, with voice of care; <37>

The throstle old;* and the frosty fieldfare.<38> *long-lived What should I say? Of fowls of ev’ry kind That in this world have feathers and stature, Men mighten in that place assembled find, Before that noble goddess of Nature;

And each of them did all his busy cure care, pains Benignely to choose, or for to take,

By her accord,* his formel <39> or his make.* consent **mate But to the point. Nature held on her hand A formel eagle, of shape the gentilest That ever she among her workes fand,

The most benign, and eke the goodliest; In her was ev’ry virtue at its rest, highest point So farforth that Nature herself had bliss To look on her, and oft her beak to kiss.

 

Nature, the vicar of th’Almighty Lord, —

That hot, cold, heavy, light, and moist, and dry, Hath knit, by even number of accord, —

In easy voice began to speak, and say: “Fowles, take heed of my sentence,”* I pray; *opinion, discourse And for your ease, in furth’ring of your need, As far as I may speak, I will me speed.

 

“Ye know well how, on Saint Valentine’s Day, By my statute, and through my governance, Ye choose your mates, and after fly away With them, as I you *pricke with pleasance; inspire with pleasure*

But natheless, as by rightful ordinance, May I not let,* for all this world to win, *hinder But he that most is worthy shall begin.

 

“The tercel eagle, as ye know full weel, well The fowl royal, above you all in degree, The wise and worthy, secret, true as steel, The which I formed have, as ye may see, In ev’ry part, as it best liketh me, —

It needeth not his shape you to devise,* — describe He shall first choose, and speaken in his guise. in his own way*

 

“And, after him, by order shall ye choose, After your kind, evereach as you liketh; And as your hap* is, shall ye win or lose; *fortune But which of you that love most entriketh, entangles <40>

God send him her that sorest for him siketh.” sigheth And therewithal the tercel gan she call, And said, “My son, the choice is to thee fall.

 

“But natheless, in this condition

Must be the choice of ev’reach that is here, That she agree to his election,

Whoso he be, that shoulde be her fere; companion This is our usage ay, from year to year; And whoso may at this time have this grace, *In blissful time* he came into this place.” in a happy hour

With head inclin’d, and with full humble cheer, demeanour This royal tercel spake, and tarried not: “Unto my sov’reign lady, and not my fere, companion I chose and choose, with will, and heart, and thought, The formel on your hand, so well y-wrought, Whose I am all, and ever will her serve, Do what her list, to do me live or sterve. die “Beseeching her of mercy and of grace, As she that is my lady sovereign,

Or let me die here present in this place, For certes long may I not live in pain; *For in my heart is carven ev’ry vein: every vein in my heart is Having regard only unto my truth, wounded with love*

My deare heart, have on my woe some ruth. pity “And if that I be found to her untrue, Disobeisant,* or wilful negligent, disobedient Avaunter, or in process love a new, braggart in the course I pray to you, this be my judgement, of time*

That with these fowles I be all to-rent, torn to pieces That ilke* day that she me ever find *same To her untrue, or