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

thing, which ye saw ne’er ere this.”

“Sir,” quoth the priest, “it shall be done, y-wis.” certainly He bade his servant fetche him this thing, And he all ready was at his bidding,

And went him forth, and came anon again With this quicksilver, shortly for to sayn; And took these ounces three to the canoun; And he them laide well and fair adown, And bade the servant coales for to bring, That he anon might go to his working.

The coales right anon weren y-fet, fetched And this canon y-took a crosselet crucible Out of his bosom, and shew’d to the priest.

“This instrument,” quoth he, “which that thou seest, Take in thine hand, and put thyself therein Of this quicksilver an ounce, and here begin, In the name of Christ, to wax a philosopher.

There be full few, which that I woulde proffer To shewe them thus much of my science; For here shall ye see by experience

That this quicksilver I will mortify,<13>

Right in your sight anon withoute lie, And make it as good silver, and as fine, As there is any in your purse, or mine, Or elleswhere; and make it malleable,

And elles holde me false and unable

Amonge folk for ever to appear.

I have a powder here that cost me dear, Shall make all good, for it is cause of all My conning,* which that I you shewe shall. knowledge Voide your man, and let him be thereout; *send away And shut the doore, while we be about

Our privity, that no man us espy,

While that we work in this phiosophy.”

All, as he bade, fulfilled was in deed.

This ilke servant right anon out yede, went And his master y-shut the door anon,

And to their labour speedily they gon.

 

This priest, at this cursed canon’s biddIng, Upon the fire anon he set this thing,

And blew the fire, and busied him full fast.

And this canon into the croslet cast

A powder, I know not whereof it was

Y-made, either of chalk, either of glass, Or somewhat elles, was not worth a fly, To blinden* with this priest; and bade him hie* deceive **make haste The coales for to couchen* all above lay in order The croslet; “for, in token I thee love,”

Quoth this canon, “thine owen handes two Shall work all thing that here shall be do’.”

“Grand mercy,” quoth the priest, and was full glad, great thanks

And couch’d the coales as the canon bade.

And while he busy was, this fiendly wretch, This false canon (the foule fiend him fetch), Out of his bosom took a beechen coal,

In which full subtifly was made a hole, And therein put was of silver limaile filings An ounce, and stopped was withoute fail The hole with wax, to keep the limaile in.

And understande, that this false gin contrivance Was not made there, but it was made before; And other thinges I shall tell you more, Hereafterward, which that he with him brought; Ere he came there, him to beguile he thought, And so he did, ere that they *went atwin; separated*

Till he had turned him, could he not blin. cease <14>

It doleth* me, when that I of him speak; *paineth On his falsehood fain would I me awreak, revenge myself If I wist how, but he is here and there; He is so variant,* he abides nowhere. *changeable But take heed, Sirs, now for Godde’s love.

He took his coal, of which I spake above, And in his hand he bare it privily,

And while the prieste couched busily

The coales, as I tolde you ere this,

This canon saide, “Friend, ye do amiss; This is not couched as it ought to be, But soon I shall amenden it,” quoth he.

“Now let me meddle therewith but a while, For of you have I pity, by Saint Gile.

Ye be right hot, I see well how ye sweat; Have here a cloth, and wipe away the wet.”

And while that the prieste wip’d his face, This canon took his coal, — *with sorry grace,* — evil fortune And layed it above on the midward attend him!

Of the croslet, and blew well afterward, Till that the coals beganne fast to brenn. burn “Now give us drinke,” quoth this canon then, “And swithe* all shall be well, I undertake. *quickly Sitte we down, and let us merry make.”

And whenne that this canon’s beechen coal Was burnt, all the limaile out of the hole Into the crosselet anon fell down;

And so it muste needes, by reasoun,

Since it above so *even couched* was; exactly laid

But thereof wist the priest no thing, alas!

He deemed all the coals alike good,

For of the sleight he nothing understood.

 

And when this alchemister saw his time, “Rise up, Sir Priest,” quoth he, “and stand by me; And, for I wot well ingot* have ye none; *mould Go, walke forth, and bring me a chalk stone; For I will make it of the same shape

That is an ingot, if I may have hap.

Bring eke with you a bowl, or else a pan, Full of water, and ye shall well see than then How that our business shall *hap and preve succeed*

And yet, for ye shall have no misbelieve mistrust Nor wrong conceit of me, in your absence, I wille not be out of your presence,

But go with you, and come with you again.”

The chamber-doore, shortly for to sayn, They opened and shut, and went their way, And forth with them they carried the key; And came again without any delay.

Why should I tarry all the longe day?

He took the chalk, and shap’d it in the wise Of an ingot, as I shall you devise; describe I say, he took out of his owen sleeve

A teine* of silver (evil may he cheve!**) little piece *prosper Which that ne was but a just ounce of weight.

And take heed now of his cursed sleight; He shap’d his ingot, in length and in brede breadth Of this teine, withouten any drede, doubt So slily, that the priest it not espied; And in his sleeve again he gan it hide; And from the fire he took up his mattere, And in th’ ingot put it with merry cheer; And in the water-vessel he it cast,

When that him list, and bade the priest as fast Look what there is; “Put in thine hand and grope; There shalt thou finde silver, as I hope.”

What, devil of helle! should it elles be?

Shaving of silver, silver is, pardie.

He put his hand in, and took up a teine Of silver fine; and glad in every vein Was this priest, when he saw that it was so.

“Godde’s blessing, and his mother’s also, And alle hallows,* have ye, Sir Canon!” *saints Saide this priest, “and I their malison curse But, an’* ye vouchesafe to teache me *if This noble craft and this subtility,

I will be yours in all that ever I may.”

Quoth the canon, “Yet will I make assay The second time, that ye may take heed, And be expert of this, and, in your need, Another day assay in mine absence

This discipline, and this crafty science.

Let take another ounce,” quoth he tho, then “Of quicksilver, withoute wordes mo’,

And do therewith as ye have done ere this With that other, which that now silver is. “

 

The priest him busied, all that e’er he can, To do as this canon, this cursed man,

Commanded him, and fast he blew the fire For to come to th’ effect of his desire.

And this canon right in the meanewhile All ready was this priest eft* to beguile, again and, for a countenance, in his hande bare stratagem An hollow sticke (take keep and beware); *heed Of silver limaile put was, as before

Was in his coal, and stopped with wax well For to keep in his limaile every deal. particle And while this priest was in his business, This canon with his sticke gan him dress apply To him anon, and his powder cast in,

As he did erst (the devil out of his skin Him turn, I pray to God, for his falsehead, For he was ever false in thought and deed), And with his stick, above the crosselet, That was ordained* with that false get,* provided **contrivance He stirr’d the coales, till relente gan The wax against the fire, as every man, But he a fool be, knows well it must need.

And all that in the sticke was out yede, went And in the croslet hastily* it fell. quickly Now, goode Sirs, what will ye bet than well? *better When that this priest was thus beguil’d again, Supposing naught but truthe, sooth to sayn, He was so glad, that I can not express In no mannere his mirth and his gladness; And to the canon he proffer’d eftsoon forthwith; again Body and good. “Yea,” quoth the canon soon, “Though poor I be, crafty* thou shalt me find; *skilful I warn thee well, yet is there more behind.

Is any copper here within?” said he.

“Yea, Sir,” the prieste said, “I trow there be.”

“Elles go buy us some, and that as swithe. swiftly Now, goode Sir, go forth thy way and hie* thee.” *hasten He went his way, and with the copper came, And this canon it in his handes name, took <15>

And of that copper weighed out an ounce.

Too simple is my tongue to pronounce,

As minister of my wit, the doubleness

Of this canon, root of all cursedness.

He friendly seem’d to them that knew him not; But he was fiendly, both in work and thought.

It wearieth me to tell of his falseness; And natheless yet will I it express,

To that intent men may beware thereby, And for none other cause truely.

He put this copper in the crosselet,

And on the fire as swithe* he hath it set, *swiftly And cast in powder, and made the priest to blow, And in his working for to stoope low,

As he did erst,* and all was but a jape;* before **trick Right as him list the priest *he made his ape. befooled him*

And afterward in the ingot he it cast, And in the pan he put it at the last

Of water, and in he put his own hand;

And in his sleeve, as ye beforehand

Hearde me tell, he had a silver teine; small piece He silly took it out, this cursed heine wretch (Unweeting* this priest of his false craft), *unsuspecting And in the panne’s bottom he it laft left And in the water rumbleth to and fro,

And wondrous privily took up also

The copper teine (not knowing thilke priest), And hid it, and him hente* by the breast, *took And to him spake, and thus said in his game; “Stoop now adown; by God, ye be to blame; Helpe me now, as I did you whilere; before Put in your hand, and looke what is there.”

 

This priest took up this silver teine anon; And thenne said the canon, “Let us gon, With these three teines which that we have wrought, To some goldsmith, and *weet if they be aught: find out if they are For, by my faith, I would not for my hood worth anything*

But if they were silver fine and good, unless And that as swithe well proved shall it be.” *quickly Unto the goldsmith with these teines three They went anon, and put them in assay