Canterbury Tales and Other Poems by Geoffrey Chaucer (best summer reads .TXT) đź“•
TROILUS AND CRESSIDA
CHAUCER'S DREAM [1]
THE PROLOGUE TO THE LEGEND OF GOOD WOMEN
CHAUCER'S A.B.C.
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS
Transcriber's Note.
- Modern scholars believe that Chaucer was not the author ofthese poems.
PREFACE.
THE object of this volume is to place before the general readerour two early poetic masterpieces -- The Canterbury Tales andThe Faerie Queen; to do so in a way that will render their"popular perusal" easy in a time of little leisure and unboundedtemptations to intellectual languor; and, on the same conditions,to present a liberal and fairly representative selection from theless important and familiar poems of Chaucer and Spenser.There is, it may be said at the outset, peculiar advantage andpropriety in placing the two poets side by side in the mannernow attempted for the first time. Although two
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- Author: Geoffrey Chaucer
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So seemeth it; for had they but a sheet Which that they mighte wrap them in at night, And a bratt* to walk in by dayelight, *cloak<10>
They would them sell, and spend it on this craft; They cannot stint,* until no thing be laft. *cease And evermore, wherever that they gon,
Men may them knowe by smell of brimstone; For all the world they stinken as a goat; Their savour is so rammish and so hot, That though a man a mile from them be, The savour will infect him, truste me.
Lo, thus by smelling and threadbare array, If that men list, this folk they knowe may.
And if a man will ask them privily,
Why they be clothed so unthriftily, shabbily They right anon will rownen* in his ear, *whisper And sayen, if that they espied were,
Men would them slay, because of their science: Lo, thus these folk betrayen innocence!
Pass over this; I go my tale unto.
Ere that the pot be on the fire y-do placed Of metals, with a certain quantity
My lord them tempers,* and no man but he *adjusts the proportions (Now he is gone, I dare say boldely);
For as men say, he can do craftily,
Algate* I wot well he hath such a name, *although And yet full oft he runneth into blame; And know ye how? full oft it happ’neth so, The pot to-breaks, and farewell! all is go’. gone These metals be of so great violence,
Our walles may not make them resistence, But if they were wrought of lime and stone; unless
They pierce so, that through the wall they gon; And some of them sink down into the ground (Thus have we lost by times many a pound), And some are scatter’d all the floor about; Some leap into the roof withoute doubt.
Though that the fiend not in our sight him show, I trowe that he be with us, that shrew; impious wretch In helle, where that he is lord and sire, Is there no more woe, rancour, nor ire.
When that our pot is broke, as I have said, Every man chides, and holds him *evil apaid. dissatisfied*
Some said it was long on the fire-making; because of <11>
Some saide nay, it was on the blowing
(Then was I fear’d, for that was mine office); “Straw!” quoth the third, “ye be lewed and *nice, ignorant *foolish It was not temper’d* as it ought to be.” mixed in due proportions “Nay,” quoth the fourthe, “stint and hearken me; stop Because our fire was not y-made of beech, That is the cause, and other none, so the’ch. so may I thrive*
I cannot tell whereon it was along,
But well I wot great strife is us among.”
“What?” quoth my lord, “there is no more to do’n, Of these perils I will beware eftsoon. another time I am right sicker* that the pot was crazed.* sure **cracked Be as be may, be ye no thing amazed. confounded As usage is, let sweep the floor as swithe; quickly Pluck up your heartes and be glad and blithe.”
The mullok* on a heap y-sweeped was, *rubbish And on the floor y-cast a canevas,
And all this mullok in a sieve y-throw, And sifted, and y-picked many a throw. time “Pardie,” quoth one, “somewhat of our metal Yet is there here, though that we have not all.
And though this thing *mishapped hath as now, has gone amiss Another time it may be well enow. at present*
We muste *put our good in adventure; risk our property*
A merchant, pardie, may not aye endure, Truste me well, in his prosperity:
Sometimes his good is drenched* in the sea, *drowned, sunk And sometimes comes it safe unto the land.”
“Peace,” quoth my lord; “the next time I will fand endeavour To bring our craft *all in another plight, to a different conclusion*
And but I do, Sirs, let me have the wite; blame There was default in somewhat, well I wot.”
Another said, the fire was over hot.
But be it hot or cold, I dare say this, That we concluden evermore amiss;
We fail alway of that which we would have; And in our madness evermore we rave.
And when we be together every one,
Every man seemeth a Solomon.
But all thing, which that shineth as the gold, It is not gold, as I have heard it told; Nor every apple that is fair at eye,
It is not good, what so men clap* or cry. *assert Right so, lo, fareth it amonges us.
He that the wisest seemeth, by Jesus,
Is most fool, when it cometh to the prefe; proof, test And he that seemeth truest, is a thief.
That shall ye know, ere that I from you wend; By that I of my tale have made an end.
There was a canon of religioun
Amonges us, would infect* all a town, deceive Though it as great were as was Nineveh, Rome, Alisandre, Troy, or other three. Alexandria His sleightes and his infinite falseness cunning tricks There coulde no man writen, as I guess, Though that he mighte live a thousand year; In all this world of falseness n’is his peer. *there is not For in his termes he will him so wind, And speak his wordes in so sly a kind, When he commune shall with any wight,
That he will make him doat* anon aright, become foolishly But it a fiende be, as himself is. fond of him
Full many a man hath he beguil’d ere this, And will, if that he may live any while; And yet men go and ride many a mile
Him for to seek, and have his acquaintance, Not knowing of his false governance. deceitful conduct And if you list to give me audience,
I will it telle here in your presence.
But, worshipful canons religious,
Ne deeme not that I slander your house, Although that my tale of a canon be.
Of every order some shrew is, pardie;
And God forbid that all a company
Should rue a singular* manne’s folly. *individual To slander you is no thing mine intent; But to correct that is amiss I meant.
This tale was not only told for you,
But eke for other more; ye wot well how That amonges Christe’s apostles twelve There was no traitor but Judas himselve; Then why should all the remenant have blame, That guiltless were? By you I say the same.
Save only this, if ye will hearken me, If any Judas in your convent be,
Remove him betimes, I you rede, counsel If shame or loss may causen any dread.
And be no thing displeased, I you pray; But in this case hearken what I say.
In London was a priest, an annualere, <12>
That therein dwelled hadde many a year, Which was so pleasant and so serviceable Unto the wife, where as he was at table, That she would suffer him no thing to pay For board nor clothing, went he ne’er so gay; And spending silver had he right enow; Thereof no force;* will proceed as now, *no matter And telle forth my tale of the canon,
That brought this prieste to confusion.
This false canon came upon a day
Unto the prieste’s chamber, where he lay, Beseeching him to lend him a certain
Of gold, and he would quit it him again.
“Lend me a mark,” quoth he, “but dayes three, And at my day I will it quite thee.
And if it so be that thou find me false, Another day hang me up by the halse.” neck This priest him took a mark, and that as swithe, quickly And this canon him thanked often sithe, times And took his leave, and wente forth his way; And at the thirde day brought his money; And to the priest he took his gold again, Whereof this priest was wondrous glad and fain. pleased “Certes,” quoth he, *“nothing annoyeth me I am not unwiling*
To lend a man a noble, or two, or three, Or what thing were in my possession,
When he so true is of condition,
That in no wise he breake will his day; To such a man I never can say nay.”
“What,” quoth this canon, “should I be untrue?
Nay, that were *thing y-fallen all of new! a new thing to happen*
Truth is a thing that I will ever keep, Unto the day in which that I shall creep Into my grave; and elles God forbid;
Believe this as sicker* as your creed. sure God thank I, and in good time be it said, That there was never man yet evil apaid displeased, dissatisfied*
For gold nor silver that he to me lent, Nor ever falsehood in mine heart I meant.
And Sir,” quoth he, “now of my privity, Since ye so goodly have been unto me,
And kithed* to me so great gentleness, *shown Somewhat, to quite with your kindeness, I will you shew, and if you list to lear, learn I will you teache plainly the mannere
How I can worken in philosophy.
Take good heed, ye shall well see *at eye with your own eye*
That I will do a mas’try ere I go.”
“Yea,” quoth the priest; “yea, Sir, and will ye so?
Mary! thereof I pray you heartily.”
“At your commandement, Sir, truely,”
Quoth the canon, “and elles God forbid.”
Lo, how this thiefe could his service bede! offer Full sooth it is that such proffer’d service Stinketh, as witnesse *these olde wise; those wise folk of old*
And that full soon I will it verify
In this canon, root of all treachery,
That evermore delight had and gladness (Such fiendly thoughtes in his heart impress) press into his heart
How Christe’s people he may to mischief bring.
God keep us from his false dissimuling!
What wiste this priest with whom that he dealt?
Nor of his harm coming he nothing felt.
O sely* priest, O sely innocent! *simple With covetise anon thou shalt be blent; blinded; beguiled O graceless, full blind is thy conceit!
For nothing art thou ware of the deceit Which that this fox y-shapen* hath to thee; contrived His wily wrenches thou not mayest flee. *snares Wherefore, to go to the conclusioun
That referreth to thy confusion,
Unhappy man, anon I will me hie hasten To telle thine unwit* and thy folly, stupidity And eke the falseness of that other wretch, As farforth as that my conning will stretch. *knowledge This canon was my lord, ye woulde ween; imagine Sir Host, in faith, and by the heaven’s queen, It was another canon, and not he,
That can* an hundred fold more subtlety. *knows He hath betrayed folkes many a time;
Of his falseness it doleth* me to rhyme. *paineth And ever, when I speak of his falsehead, For shame of him my cheekes waxe red;
Algates* they beginne for to glow, *at least For redness have I none, right well I know, In my visage; for fumes diverse
Of metals, which ye have me heard rehearse, Consumed have and wasted my redness.
Now take heed of this canon’s cursedness. villainy “Sir,” quoth he to the priest, “let your man gon For quicksilver, that we it had anon;
And let him bringen ounces two or three; And when he comes, as faste shall ye see A wondrous
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