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

in my guilt unkind.

 

“And since none loveth her so well as I, Although she never of love me behet, promised Then ought she to be mine, through her mercy; For *other bond can I none on her knit; I can bind her no other way*

For weal or for woe, never shall I let cease, fail To serve her, how far so that she wend; go Say what you list, my tale is at an end.”

 

Right as the freshe redde rose new

Against the summer Sunne colour’d is,

Right so, for shame, all waxen gan the hue Of this formel, when she had heard all this; *Neither she answer’d well, nor said amiss, she answered nothing, So sore abashed was she, till Nature either well or ill*

Said, “Daughter, dread you not, I you assure.” confirm, support Another tercel eagle spake anon,

Of lower kind, and said that should not be; “I love her better than ye do, by Saint John!

Or at the least I love her as well as ye, And longer have her serv’d in my degree; And if she should have lov’d for long loving, To me alone had been the guerdoning. reward “I dare eke say, if she me finde false, Unkind, janglere,* rebel in any wise, boastful Or jealous, do me hange by the halse; hang me by the neck*

And but* I beare me in her service *unless As well ay as my wit can me suffice,

From point to point, her honour for to save, Take she my life and all the good I have.”

 

A thirde tercel eagle answer’d tho: then “Now, Sirs, ye see the little leisure here; For ev’ry fowl cries out to be ago

Forth with his mate, or with his lady dear; And eke Nature herselfe will not hear, For tarrying her, not half that I would say; And but* I speak, I must for sorrow dey.* unless **die Of long service avaunt* I me no thing, *boast But as possible is me to die to-day,

For woe, as he that hath been languishing This twenty winter; and well happen may A man may serve better, and *more to pay, with more satisfaction*

In half a year, although it were no more.

Than some man doth that served hath *full yore. for a long time*

 

“I say not this by me for that I can

Do no service that may my lady please; But I dare say, I am her truest man, liegeman, servant As to my doom, and fainest would her please; in my judgement At shorte words,* until that death me seize, in one word

I will be hers, whether I wake or wink.

And true in all that hearte may bethink.”

 

Of all my life, since that day I was born, So gentle plea, in love or other thing, such noble pleading

Ye hearde never no man me beforn;

Whoso that hadde leisure and cunning skill For to rehearse their cheer and their speaking: And from the morrow gan these speeches last, Till downward went the Sunne wonder fast.

 

The noise of fowles for to be deliver’d set free to depart So loude rang, “Have done and let us wend,” go That well ween’d I the wood had all to-shiver’d: been shaken to “Come off!” they cried; “alas! ye will us shend!* pieces ruin When will your cursed pleading have an end?

How should a judge either party believe, For yea or nay, withouten any preve?” proof The goose, the duck, and the cuckoo also, So cried “keke, keke,” “cuckoo,” “queke queke,” high, That through mine ears the noise wente tho. then The goose said then, “All this n’is worth a fly!

But I can shape hereof a remedy;

And I will say my verdict, fair and swith, speedily For waterfowl, whoso be wroth or blith.” glad “And I for worm-fowl,” said the fool cuckow; For I will, of mine own authority,

For common speed,* take on me the charge now; *advantage For to deliver us is great charity.”

“Ye may abide a while yet, pardie,” by God Quoth then the turtle; “if it be your will A wight may speak, it were as good be still.

 

“I am a seed-fowl, one th’unworthiest, That know I well, and the least of cunning; But better is, that a wight’s tongue rest, Than *entremette him of* such doing meddle with <41>

Of which he neither rede* can nor sing; *counsel And who it doth, full foul himself accloyeth, embarrasseth For office uncommanded oft annoyeth.”

 

Nature, which that alway had an ear

To murmur of the lewedness behind,

With facond* voice said, “Hold your tongues there, eloquent, fluent And I shall soon, I hope, a counsel find, You to deliver, and from this noise unbind; I charge of ev’ry flock ye shall one call, *class of fowl To say the verdict of you fowles all.”

 

The tercelet* said then in this mannere; *male hawk “Full hard it were to prove it by reason, Who loveth best this gentle formel here; For ev’reach hath such replication, reply That by skilles* may none be brought adown; *arguments I cannot see that arguments avail;

Then seemeth it that there must be battaile.”

 

“All ready!” quoth those eagle tercels tho; then “Nay, Sirs!” quoth he; “if that I durst it say, Ye do me wrong, my tale is not y-do, done For, Sirs, — and *take it not agrief,* I pray, — be not offended

It may not be as ye would, in this way: Ours is the voice that have the charge in hand, And *to the judges’ doom ye muste stand. ye must abide by the judges’ decision*

“And therefore ‘Peace!’ I say; as to my wit, Me woulde think, how that the worthiest Of knighthood, and had longest used it, Most of estate, of blood the gentilest, Were fitting most for her, *if that her lest; if she pleased*

And, of these three she knows herself, I trow, am sure Which that he be; for it is light* to know.” easy The waterfowles have their heades laid Together, and of short advisement, after brief deliberation*

When evereach his verdict had y-said

They saide soothly all by one assent,

How that “The goose with the *facond gent, refined eloquence*

That so desired to pronounce our need,* business Shall tell our tale;” and prayed God her speed.

 

And for those waterfowles then began

The goose to speak. and in her cackeling She saide, “Peace, now! take keep* ev’ry man, *heed And hearken what reason I shall forth bring; My wit is sharp, I love no tarrying;

I say I rede him, though he were my brother, But* she will love him, let him love another!” *unless “Lo! here a perfect reason of a goose!”

Quoth the sperhawke. “Never may she the! thrive Lo such a thing ‘tis t’have a tongue loose!

Now, pardie: fool, yet were it bet* for thee *better Have held thy peace, than show’d thy nicety; foolishness It lies not in his wit, nor in his will, But sooth is said, a fool cannot be still.”

 

The laughter rose of gentle fowles all; And right anon the seed-fowls chosen had The turtle true, and gan her to them call, And prayed her to say the *soothe sad serious truth*

Of this mattere, and asked what she rad; counselled And she answer’d, that plainly her intent She woulde show, and soothly what she meant.

 

“Nay! God forbid a lover shoulde change!”

The turtle said, and wax’d for shame all red: “Though that his lady evermore be strange, disdainful Yet let him serve her ay, till he be dead; For, sooth, I praise not the goose’s rede counsel For, though she died, I would none other make; mate I will be hers till that the death me take.”

 

*“Well bourded!” quoth the ducke, “by my hat! a pretty joke!*

That men should loven alway causeless, Who can a reason find, or wit, in that?

Danceth he merry, that is mirtheless?

Who shoulde *reck of that is reckeless? care for one who has Yea! queke yet,” quoth the duck, “full well and fair! no care for him*

There be more starres, God wot, than a pair!” <42>

 

“Now fy, churl!” quoth the gentle tercelet, “Out of the dunghill came that word aright; Thou canst not see which thing is well beset; Thou far’st by love, as owles do by light,—

The day them blinds, full well they see by night; Thy kind is of so low a wretchedness,

That what love is, thou caust not see nor guess.”

 

Then gan the cuckoo put him forth in press, in the crowd For fowl that eateth worm, and said belive: quickly “So I,” quoth he, “may have my mate in peace, I recke not how longe that they strive.

Let each of them be solain* all their life; *single <43>

This is my rede,* since they may not accord; *counsel This shorte lesson needeth not record.”

 

“Yea, have the glutton fill’d enough his paunch, Then are we well!” saide the emerlon; merlin “Thou murd’rer of the heggsugg,* on the branch *hedge-sparrow That brought thee forth, thou most rueful glutton, <44>

Live thou solain, worme’s corruption!

*For no force is to lack of thy nature; the loss of a bird of your Go! lewed be thou, while the world may dare!” depraved nature is no matter of regret.*

“Now peace,” quoth Nature, “I commande here; For I have heard all your opinion,

And in effect yet be we ne’er the nere. nearer But, finally, this is my conclusion, —

That she herself shall have her election Of whom her list, whoso be *wroth or blith; angry or glad*

Him that she chooseth, he shall her have as swith. quickly “For since it may not here discussed be Who loves her best, as said the tercelet, Then will I do this favour t’ her, that she Shall have right him on whom her heart is set, And he her, that his heart hath on her knit: This judge I, Nature, for* I may not lie because To none estate; I have none other eye. can see the matter in no other light*

“But as for counsel for to choose a make, If I were Reason, [certes] then would I Counsaile you the royal tercel take,

As saith the tercelet full skilfully, reasonably As for the gentilest, and most worthy, Which I have wrought so well to my pleasance, That to you it ought be *a suffisance.” to your satisfaction*

 

With dreadful* voice the formel her answer’d: *frightened “My rightful lady, goddess of Nature,

Sooth is, that I am ever under your yerd, rod, or government As is every other creature,

And must be yours, while that my life may dure; And therefore grante me my firste boon, favour And mine intent you will I say right soon.”

 

“I grant it you,” said she; and right anon This formel eagle spake in this degree: manner “Almighty queen, until this year be done I aske respite to advise me;

And after that to have my choice all free; This is all and some that I would speak and say; Ye get no more, although ye *do me dey. slay me*

 

“I will not serve Venus, nor Cupide,

For sooth as yet, by no manner [of] way.”

“Now since it may none other ways betide,” happen Quoth Dame