21. THE NUN’S PRIEST’S TALE

Prologue

2767 “Hoo!” quod the Knyght, “good sire, namoore of this!
2768 That ye han seyd is right ynough, ywis,
2769 And muchel moore; for litel hevynesse
2770 Is right ynough to muche folk, I gesse.
2771 I seye for me, it is a greet disese,
2772 Whereas men han been in greet welthe and ese,
2773 To heeren of hire sodeyn fal, allas!
2774 And the contrarie is joye and greet solas,
2775 As whan a man hath been in povre estaat,
2776 And clymbeth up and wexeth fortunat,
2777 And there abideth in prosperitee.
2778 Swich thyng is gladsom, as it thynketh me,
2779 And of swich thyng were goodly for to telle.”
2780 “Ye,” quod oure Hooste, “by Seint Poules belle!
2781 Ye seye right sooth; this Monk he clappeth lowde.
2782 He spak how Fortune covered with a clowde
2783 I noot nevere what; and als of a tragedie
2784 Right now ye herde, and pardee, no remedie
2785 It is for to biwaille ne compleyne
2786 That that is doon, and als it is a peyne,
2787 As ye han seyd, to heere of hevynesse.
2788 “Sire Monk, namoore of this, so God yow blesse!
2789 Youre tale anoyeth al this compaignye.
2790 Swich talkyng is nat worth a boterflye,
2791 For therinne is ther no desport ne game.
2792 Wherfore, sire Monk, daun Piers by youre name,
2793 I pray yow hertely telle us somwhat elles;
2794 For sikerly, nere clynkyng of youre belles
2795 That on youre bridel hange on every syde,
2796 By hevene kyng that for us alle dyde,
2797 I sholde er this han fallen doun for sleep,
2798 Althogh the slough had never been so deep;
2799 Thanne hadde your tale al be toold in veyn.
2800 For certeinly, as that thise clerkes seyn,
2801 Whereas a man may have noon audience,
2802 Noght helpeth it to tellen his sentence.
2803 ” And wel I woot the substance is in me,
2804 If any thyng shal wel reported be.
2805 Sir, sey somwhat of huntyng, I yow preye.”
2806 “Nay,” quod this Monk, “I have no lust to pleye.
2807 Now lat another telle, as I have toold.”
2808 Thanne spak oure Hoost with rude speche and boold,
2809 And seyde unto the Nonnes Preest anon,
2810 “Com neer, thou preest, com hyder, thou sir John!
2811 Telle us swich thyng as may oure hertes glade.
2812 Be blithe, though thou ryde upon a jade.
2813 What thogh thyn hors be bothe foul and lene?
2814 If he wol serve thee, rekke nat a bene.
2815 Looke that thyn herte be murie everemo.”
2816 “Yis, sir,” quod he, “yis, Hoost, so moot I go,
2817 But I be myrie, ywis I wol be blamed.”
2818 And right anon his tale he hath attamed,
2819 And thus he seyde unto us everichon,
2820 This sweete preest, this goodly man sir John.

The Tale

2821 A povre wydwe, somdeel stape in age,
2822 Was whilom dwellyng in a narwe cotage,
2823 Biside a grove, stondynge in a dale.
2824 This wydwe, of which I telle yow my tale,
2825 Syn thilke day that she was last a wyf
2826 In pacience ladde a ful symple lyf,
2827 For litel was hir catel and hir rente.
2828 By housbondrie of swich as God hire sente
2829 She foond hirself and eek hir doghtren two.
2830 Thre large sowes hadde she, and namo,
2831 Three keen, and eek a sheep that highte Malle.
2832 Ful sooty was hire bour and eek hir halle,
2833 In which she eet ful many a sklendre meel.
2834 Of poynaunt sauce hir neded never a deel.
2835 No deyntee morsel passed thurgh hir throte;
2836 Hir diete was accordant to hir cote.
2837 Repleccioun ne made hire nevere sik;
2838 Attempree diete was al hir phisik,
2839 And exercise, and hertes suffisaunce.
2840 The goute lette hire nothyng for to daunce,
2841 N’ apoplexie shente nat hir heed.
2842 No wyn ne drank she, neither whit ne reed;
2843 Hir bord was served moost with whit and blak —
2844 Milk and broun breed, in which she foond no lak,
2845 Seynd bacoun, and somtyme an ey or tweye,
2846 For she was, as it were, a maner deye.
2847 A yeerd she hadde, enclosed al aboute
2848 With stikkes, and a drye dych withoute,
2849 In which she hadde a cok, hight Chauntecleer.
2850 In al the land, of crowyng nas his peer.
2851 His voys was murier than the murie orgon
2852 On messe-dayes that in the chirche gon.
2853 Wel sikerer was his crowyng in his logge
2854 Than is a clokke or an abbey orlogge.
2855 By nature he knew ech ascencioun
2856 Of the equynoxial in thilke toun;
2857 For whan degrees fiftene weren ascended,
2858 Thanne crew he that it myghte nat been amended.
2859 His coomb was redder than the fyn coral,
2860 And batailled as it were a castel wal;
2861 His byle was blak, and as the jeet it shoon;
2862 Lyk asure were his legges and his toon;
2863 His nayles whitter than the lylye flour,
2864 And lyk the burned gold was his colour.
2865 This gentil cok hadde in his governaunce
2866 Sevene hennes for to doon al his plesaunce,
2867 Whiche were his sustres and his paramours,
2868 And wonder lyk to hym, as of colours;
2869 Of whiche the faireste hewed on hir throte
2870 Was cleped faire damoysele Pertelote.
2871 Curteys she was, discreet, and debonaire,
2872 And compaignable, and bar hyrself so faire
2873 Syn thilke day that she was seven nyght oold
2874 That trewely she hath the herte in hoold
2875 Of Chauntecleer, loken in every lith;
2876 He loved hire so that wel was hym therwith.
2877 But swich a joye was it to here hem synge,
2878 Whan that the brighte sonne gan to sprynge,
2879 In sweete accord, “My lief is faren in londe!” —
2880 For thilke tyme, as I have understonde,
2881 Beestes and briddes koude speke and synge.
2882 And so bifel that in a dawenynge,
2883 As Chauntecleer among his wyves alle
2884 Sat on his perche, that was in the halle,
2885 And next hym sat this faire Pertelote,
2886 This Chauntecleer gan gronen in his throte,
2887 As man that in his dreem is drecched soore.
2888 And whan that Pertelote thus herde hym roore,
2889 She was agast and seyde, “Herte deere,
2890 What eyleth yow, to grone in this manere?
2891 Ye been a verray sleper; fy, for shame!”
2892 And he answerde, and seyde thus: “Madame,
2893 I pray yow that ye take it nat agrief.
2894 By God, me mette I was in swich meschief
2895 Right now that yet myn herte is soore afright.
2896 Now God,” quod he, “my swevene recche aright,
2897 And kepe my body out of foul prisoun!
2898 Me mette how that I romed up and doun
2899 Withinne our yeerd, wheer as I saugh a beest
2900 Was lyk an hound, and wolde han maad areest
2901 Upon my body, and wolde han had me deed.
2902 His colour was bitwixe yelow and reed,
2903 And tipped was his tayl and bothe his eeris
2904 With blak, unlyk the remenant of his heeris;
2905 His snowte smal, with glowynge eyen tweye.
2906 Yet of his look for feere almoost I deye;
2907 This caused me my gronyng, doutelees.”
2908 ” Avoy!” quod she, “fy on yow, hertelees!
2909 Allas,” quod she, “for, by that God above,
2910 Now han ye lost myn herte and al my love!
2911 I kan nat love a coward, by my feith!
2912 For certes, what so any womman seith,
2913 We alle desiren, if it myghte bee,
2914 To han housbondes hardy, wise, and free,
2915 And secree — and no nygard, ne no fool,
2916 Ne hym that is agast of every tool,
2917 Ne noon avauntour, by that God above!
2918 How dorste ye seyn, for shame, unto youre love
2919 That any thyng myghte make yow aferd?
2920 Have ye no mannes herte, and han a berd?
2921 Allas! And konne ye been agast of swevenys?
2922 Nothyng, God woot, but vanitee in sweven is.
2923 Swevenes engendren of replecciouns,
2924 And ofte of fume and of complecciouns,
2925 Whan humours been to habundant in a wight.
2926 Certes this dreem, which ye han met to-nyght,
2927 Cometh of the greete superfluytee
2928 Of youre rede colera, pardee,
2929 Which causeth folk to dreden in hir dremes
2930 Of arwes, and of fyr with rede lemes,
2931 Of rede beestes, that they wol hem byte,
2932 Of contek, and of whelpes, grete and lyte;
2933 Right as the humour of malencolie
2934 Causeth ful many a man in sleep to crie
2935 For feere of blake beres, or boles blake,
2936 Or elles blake develes wole hem take.
2937 Of othere humours koude I telle also
2938 That werken many a man sleep ful wo;
2939 But I wol passe as lightly as I kan.
2940 “Lo Catoun, which that was so wys a man,
2941 Seyde he nat thus, ‘Ne do no fors of dremes’?
2942 “Now sire,” quod she, “whan we flee fro the bemes,
2943 For Goddes love, as taak som laxatyf.
2944 Up peril of my soule and of my lyf,
2945 I conseille yow the beste — I wol nat lye —
2946 That bothe of colere and of malencolye
2947 Ye purge yow; and for ye shal nat tarie,
2948 Though in this toun is noon apothecarie,
2949 I shal myself to herbes techen yow
2950 That shul been for youre hele and for youre prow;
2951 And in oure yeerd tho herbes shal I fynde
2952 The whiche han of hire propretee by kynde
2953 To purge yow bynethe and eek above.
2954 Foryet nat this, for Goddes owene love!
2955 Ye been ful coleryk of compleccioun;
2956 Ware the sonne in his ascencioun
2957 Ne fynde yow nat repleet of humours hoote.
2958 And if it do, I dar wel leye a grote,
2959 That ye shul have a fevere terciane,
2960 Or an agu that may be youre bane.
2961 A day or two ye shul have digestyves
2962 Of wormes, er ye take youre laxatyves
2963 Of lawriol, centaure, and fumetere,
2964 Or elles of ellebor, that groweth there,
2965 Of katapuce, or of gaitrys beryis,
2966 Of herbe yve, growyng in oure yeerd, ther mery is;
2967 Pekke hem up right as they growe and ete hem yn.
2968 Be myrie, housbonde, for youre fader kyn!
2969 Dredeth no dreem; I kan sey yow namoore.”
2970 “Madame,” quod he, “graunt mercy of youre loore.
2971 But nathelees, as touchyng daun Catoun,
2972 That hath of wysdom swich a greet renoun,
2973 Though that he bad no dremes for to drede,
2974 By God, men may in olde bookes rede
2975 Of many a man moore of auctorite
2976 Than evere Caton was, so moot I thee,
2977 That al the revers seyn of this sentence,
2978 And han wel founden by experience
2979 That dremes been significaciouns
2980 As wel of joye as of tribulaciouns
2981 That folk enduren in this lif present.
2982 Ther nedeth make of this noon argument;
2983 The verray preeve sheweth it in dede.
2984 “Oon of the gretteste auctour that men rede
2985 Seith thus: that whilom two felawes wente
2986 On pilgrimage, in a ful good entente,
2987 And happed so, they coomen in a toun
2988 Wher as ther was swich congregacioun
2989 Of peple, and eek so streit of herbergage,
2990 That they ne founde as muche as o cotage
2991 In which they bothe myghte ylogged bee.
2992 Wherfore they mosten of necessitee,
2993 As for that nyght, departen compaignye;
2994 And ech of hem gooth to his hostelrye,
2995 And took his loggyng as it wolde falle.
2996 That oon of hem was logged in a stalle,
2997 Fer in a yeerd, with oxen of the plough;
2998 That oother man was logged wel ynough,
2999 As was his aventure or his fortune,
3000 That us governeth alle as in commune.
3001 ” And so bifel that, longe er it were day,
3002 This man mette in his bed, ther as he lay,
3003 How that his felawe gan upon hym calle,
3004 And seyde, ‘ Allas, for in an oxes stalle
3005 This nyght I shal be mordred ther I lye!
3006 Now help me, deere brother, or I dye.
3007 In alle haste com to me!’ he sayde.
3008 This man out of his sleep for feere abrayde;
3009 But whan that he was wakened of his sleep,
3010 He turned hym and took of this no keep.
3011 Hym thoughte his dreem nas but a vanitee.
3012 Thus twies in his slepyng dremed hee;
3013 And atte thridde tyme yet his felawe
3014 Cam, as hym thoughte, and seide, ‘I am now slawe.
3015 Bihoold my bloody woundes depe and wyde!
3016 Arys up erly in the morwe tyde,
3017 And at the west gate of the toun,’ quod he,
3018 ‘ A carte ful of dong ther shaltow se,
3019 In which my body is hid ful prively;
3020 Do thilke carte arresten boldely.
3021 My gold caused my mordre, sooth to sayn,’
3022 And tolde hym every point how he was slayn,
3023 With a ful pitous face, pale of hewe.
3024 And truste wel, his dreem he foond ful trewe,
3025 For on the morwe, as soone as it was day,
3026 To his felawes in he took the way;
3027 And whan that he cam to this oxes stalle,
3028 After his felawe he bigan to calle.
3029 “The hostiler answerede hym anon,
3030 And seyde, ‘Sire, your felawe is agon.
3031 As soone as day he wente out of the toun.’
3032 “This man gan fallen in suspecioun,
3033 Remembrynge on his dremes that he mette,
3034 And forth he gooth — no lenger wolde he lette —
3035 Unto the west gate of the toun, and fond
3036 A dong-carte, wente as it were to donge lond,
3037 That was arrayed in that same wise
3038 As ye han herd the dede man devyse.
3039 And with an hardy herte he gan to crye
3040 Vengeance and justice of this felonye:
3041 ‘My felawe mordred is this same nyght,
3042 And in this carte he lith gapyng upright.
3043 I crye out on the ministres,’ quod he,
3044 ‘That sholden kepe and reulen this citee.
3045 Harrow! Allas! Heere lith my felawe slayn!’
3046 What sholde I moore unto this tale sayn?
3047 The peple out sterte and caste the cart to grounde,
3048 And in the myddel of the dong they founde
3049 The dede man, that mordred was al newe.
3050 “O blisful God, that art so just and trewe,
3051 Lo, how that thou biwreyest mordre alway!
3052 Mordre wol out; that se we day by day.
3053 Mordre is so wlatsom and abhomynable
3054 To God, that is so just and resonable,
3055 That he ne wol nat suffre it heled be,
3056 Though it abyde a yeer, or two, or thre.
3057 Mordre wol out, this my conclusioun.
3058 And right anon, ministres of that toun
3059 Han hent the carter and so soore hym pyned,
3060 And eek the hostiler so soore engyned,
3061 That they biknewe hire wikkednesse anon,
3062 And were anhanged by the nekke-bon.
3063 “Heere may men seen that dremes been to drede.
3064 And certes in the same book I rede,
3065 Right in the nexte chapitre after this —
3066 I gabbe nat, so have I joye or blis —
3067 Two men that wolde han passed over see,
3068 For certeyn cause, into a fer contree,
3069 If that the wynd ne hadde been contrarie,
3070 That made hem in a citee for to tarie
3071 That stood ful myrie upon an haven-syde;
3072 But on a day, agayn the even-tyde,
3073 The wynd gan chaunge, and blew right as hem leste.
3074 Jolif and glad they wente unto hir reste,
3075 And casten hem ful erly for to saille.
3076 But herkneth! To that o man fil a greet mervaille:
3077 That oon of hem, in slepyng as he lay,
3078 Hym mette a wonder dreem agayn the day.
3079 Hym thoughte a man stood by his beddes syde,
3080 And hym comanded that he sholde abyde,
3081 And seyde hym thus: ‘If thou tomorwe wende,
3082 Thow shalt be dreynt; my tale is at an ende.’
3083 He wook, and tolde his felawe what he mette,
3084 And preyde hym his viage for to lette;
3085 As for that day, he preyde hym to byde.
3086 His felawe, that lay by his beddes syde,
3087 Gan for to laughe, and scorned him ful faste.
3088 ‘No dreem,’ quod he, ‘may so myn herte agaste
3089 That I wol lette for to do my thynges.
3090 I sette nat a straw by thy dremynges,
3091 For swevenes been but vanytees and japes.
3092 Men dreme alday of owles and of apes,
3093 And of many a maze therwithal;
3094 Men dreme of thyng that nevere was ne shal.
3095 But sith I see that thou wolt heere abyde,
3096 And thus forslewthen wilfully thy tyde,
3097 God woot, it reweth me; and have good day!’
3098 And thus he took his leve, and wente his way.
3099 But er that he hadde half his cours yseyled,
3100 Noot I nat why, ne what myschaunce it eyled,
3101 But casuelly the shippes botme rente,
3102 And ship and man under the water wente
3103 In sighte of othere shippes it bisyde,
3104 That with hem seyled at the same tyde.
3105 And therfore, faire Pertelote so deere,
3106 By swiche ensamples olde maistow leere
3107 That no man sholde been to recchelees
3108 Of dremes; for I seye thee, doutelees,
3109 That many a dreem ful soore is for to drede.
3110 “Lo, in the lyf of Seint Kenelm I rede,
3111 That was Kenulphus sone, the noble kyng
3112 Of Mercenrike, how Kenelm mette a thyng.
3113 A lite er he was mordred, on a day,
3114 His mordre in his avysioun he say.
3115 His norice hym expowned every deel
3116 His sweven, and bad hym for to kepe hym weel
3117 For traisoun; but he nas but seven yeer oold,
3118 And therfore litel tale hath he toold
3119 Of any dreem, so hooly was his herte.
3120 By God! I hadde levere than my sherte
3121 That ye hadde rad his legende, as have I.
3122 “Dame Pertelote, I sey yow trewely,
3123 Macrobeus, that writ the avisioun
3124 In Affrike of the worthy Cipioun,
3125 Affermeth dremes, and seith that they been
3126 Warnynge of thynges that men after seen.
3127 And forthermoore, I pray yow, looketh wel
3128 In the olde testament, of Daniel,
3129 If he heeld dremes any vanitee.
3130 Reed eek of Joseph, and ther shul ye see
3131 Wher dremes be somtyme — I sey nat alle —
3132 Warnynge of thynges that shul after falle.
3133 Looke of Egipte the kyng, daun Pharao,
3134 His bakere and his butiller also,
3135 Wher they ne felte noon effect in dremes.
3136 Whoso wol seken actes of sondry remes
3137 May rede of dremes many a wonder thyng.
3138 Lo Cresus, which that was of Lyde kyng,
3139 Mette he nat that he sat upon a tree,
3140 Which signified he sholde anhanged bee?
3141 Lo heere Andromacha, Ectores wyf,
3142 That day that Ector sholde lese his lyf,
3143 She dremed on the same nyght biforn
3144 How that the lyf of Ector sholde be lorn,
3145 If thilke day he wente into bataille.
3146 She warned hym, but it myghte nat availle;
3147 He wente for to fighte natheles,
3148 But he was slayn anon of Achilles.
3149 But thilke tale is al to longe to telle,
3150 And eek it is ny day; I may nat dwelle.
3151 Shortly I seye, as for conclusioun,
3152 That I shal han of this avisioun
3153 Adversitee; and I seye forthermoor
3154 That I ne telle of laxatyves no stoor,
3155 For they been venymes, I woot it weel;
3156 I hem diffye, I love hem never a deel!
3157 “Now let us speke of myrthe, and stynte al this.
3158 Madame Pertelote, so have I blis,
3159 Of o thyng God hath sent me large grace;
3160 For whan I se the beautee of youre face,
3161 Ye been so scarlet reed aboute youre yen,
3162 It maketh al my drede for to dyen;
3163 For al so siker as In principio,
3164 Mulier est hominis confusio —
3165 Madame, the sentence of this Latyn is,
3166 ‘Womman is mannes joye and al his blis.’
3167 For whan I feele a-nyght your softe syde —
3168 Al be it that I may nat on yow ryde,
3169 For that oure perche is maad so narwe, allas —
3170 I am so ful of joye and of solas,
3171 That I diffye bothe sweven and dreem.”
3172 And with that word he fley doun fro the beem,
3173 For it was day, and eke his hennes alle,
3174 And with a chuk he gan hem for to calle,
3175 For he hadde founde a corn, lay in the yerd.
3176 Real he was, he was namoore aferd.
3177 He fethered Pertelote twenty tyme,
3178 And trad hire eke as ofte, er it was pryme.
3179 He looketh as it were a grym leoun,
3180 And on his toos he rometh up and doun;
3181 Hym deigned nat to sette his foot to grounde.
3182 He chukketh whan he hath a corn yfounde,
3183 And to hym rennen thanne his wyves alle.
3184 Thus roial, as a prince is in his halle,
3185 Leve I this Chauntecleer in his pasture,
3186 And after wol I telle his aventure.
3187 Whan that the month in which the world bigan,
3188 That highte March, whan God first maked man,
3189 Was compleet, and passed were also,
3190 Syn March [was gon], thritty dayes and two,
3191 Bifel that Chauntecleer in al his pryde,
3192 His sevene wyves walkynge by his syde,
3193 Caste up his eyen to the brighte sonne,
3194 That in the signe of Taurus hadde yronne
3195 Twenty degrees and oon, and somwhat moore,
3196 And knew by kynde, and by noon oother loore,
3197 That it was pryme, and crew with blisful stevene.
3198 “The sonne,” he seyde, “is clomben up on hevene
3199 Fourty degrees and oon, and moore ywis.
3200 Madame Pertelote, my worldes blis,
3201 Herkneth thise blisful briddes how they synge,
3202 And se the fresshe floures how they sprynge;
3203 Ful is myn herte of revel and solas!”
3204 But sodeynly hym fil a sorweful cas,
3205 For evere the latter ende of joye is wo.
3206 God woot that worldly joye is soone ago;
3207 And if a rethor koude faire endite,
3208 He in a cronycle saufly myghte it write
3209 As for a sovereyn notabilitee.
3210 Now every wys man, lat him herkne me;
3211 This storie is also trewe, I undertake,
3212 As is the book of Launcelot de Lake,
3213 That wommen holde in ful greet reverence.
3214 Now wol I torne agayn to my sentence.
3215 A col-fox, ful of sly iniquitee,
3216 That in the grove hadde woned yeres three,
3217 By heigh ymaginacioun forncast,
3218 The same nyght thurghout the hegges brast
3219 Into the yerd ther Chauntecleer the faire
3220 Was wont, and eek his wyves, to repaire;
3221 And in a bed of wortes stille he lay
3222 Til it was passed undren of the day,
3223 Waitynge his tyme on Chauntecleer to falle,
3224 As gladly doon thise homycides alle
3225 That in await liggen to mordre men.
3226 O false mordrour, lurkynge in thy den!
3227 O newe Scariot, newe Genylon,
3228 False dissymulour, o Greek Synon,
3229 That broghtest Troye al outrely to sorwe!
3230 O Chauntecleer, acursed be that morwe
3231 That thou into that yerd flaugh fro the bemes!
3232 Thou were ful wel ywarned by thy dremes
3233 That thilke day was perilous to thee;
3234 But what that God forwoot moot nedes bee,
3235 After the opinioun of certein clerkis.
3236 Witnesse on hym that any parfit clerk is,
3237 That in scole is greet altercacioun
3238 In this mateere, and greet disputisoun,
3239 And hath been of an hundred thousand men.
3240 But I ne kan nat bulte it to the bren
3241 As kan the hooly doctour Augustyn,
3242 Or Boece, or the Bisshop Bradwardyn,
3243 Wheither that Goddes worthy forwityng
3244 Streyneth me nedely for to doon a thyng —
3245 “Nedely” clepe I symple necessitee —
3246 Or elles, if free choys be graunted me
3247 To do that same thyng, or do it noght,
3248 Though God forwoot it er that I was wroght;
3249 Or if his wityng streyneth never a deel
3250 But by necessitee condicioneel.
3251 I wol nat han to do of swich mateere;
3252 My tale is of a cok, as ye may heere,
3253 That tok his conseil of his wyf, with sorwe,
3254 To walken in the yerd upon that morwe
3255 That he hadde met that dreem that I yow tolde.
3256 Wommennes conseils been ful ofte colde;
3257 Wommannes conseil broghte us first to wo
3258 And made Adam fro Paradys to go,
3259 Ther as he was ful myrie and wel at ese.
3260 But for I noot to whom it myght displese,
3261 If I conseil of wommen wolde blame,
3262 Passe over, for I seyde it in my game.
3263 Rede auctours, where they trete of swich mateere,
3264 And what they seyn of wommen ye may heere.
3265 Thise been the cokkes wordes, and nat myne;
3266 I kan noon harm of no womman divyne.
3267 Faire in the soond, to bathe hire myrily,
3268 Lith Pertelote, and alle hire sustres by,
3269 Agayn the sonne, and Chauntecleer so free
3270 Soong murier than the mermayde in the see
3271 (For Phisiologus seith sikerly
3272 How that they syngen wel and myrily).
3273 And so bifel that, as he caste his ye
3274 Among the wortes on a boterflye,
3275 He was war of this fox, that lay ful lowe.
3276 Nothyng ne liste hym thanne for to crowe,
3277 But cride anon, “Cok! cok!” and up he sterte
3278 As man that was affrayed in his herte.
3279 For natureelly a beest desireth flee
3280 Fro his contrarie, if he may it see,
3281 Though he never erst hadde seyn it with his ye.
3282 This Chauntecleer, whan he gan hym espye,
3283 He wolde han fled, but that the fox anon
3284 Seyde, “Gentil sire, allas, wher wol ye gon?
3285 Be ye affrayed of me that am youre freend?
3286 Now, certes, I were worse than a feend,
3287 If I to yow wolde harm or vileynye!
3288 I am nat come youre conseil for t’ espye,
3289 But trewely, the cause of my comynge
3290 Was oonly for to herkne how that ye synge.
3291 For trewely, ye have as myrie a stevene
3292 As any aungel hath that is in hevene.
3293 Therwith ye han in musyk moore feelynge
3294 Than hadde Boece, or any that kan synge.
3295 My lord youre fader — God his soule blesse! —
3296 And eek youre mooder, of hire gentillesse,
3297 Han in myn hous ybeen to my greet ese;
3298 And certes, sire, ful fayn wolde I yow plese.
3299 But, for men speke of syngyng, I wol seye —
3300 So moote I brouke wel myne eyen tweye —
3301 Save yow, I herde nevere man so synge
3302 As dide youre fader in the morwenynge.
3303 Certes, it was of herte, al that he song.
3304 And for to make his voys the moore strong,
3305 He wolde so peyne hym that with bothe his yen
3306 He moste wynke, so loude he wolde cryen,
3307 And stonden on his tiptoon therwithal,
3308 And strecche forth his nekke long and smal.
3309 And eek he was of swich discrecioun
3310 That ther nas no man in no regioun
3311 That hym in song or wisedom myghte passe.
3312 I have wel rad in ‘Daun Burnel the Asse,’
3313 Among his vers, how that ther was a cok,
3314 For that a preestes sone yaf hym a knok
3315 Upon his leg whil he was yong and nyce,
3316 He made hym for to lese his benefice.
3317 But certeyn, ther nys no comparisoun
3318 Bitwixe the wisedom and discrecioun
3319 Of youre fader and of his subtiltee.
3320 Now syngeth, sire, for seinte charitee;
3321 Lat se; konne ye youre fader countrefete?”
3322 This Chauntecleer his wynges gan to bete,
3323 As man that koude his traysoun nat espie,
3324 So was he ravysshed with his flaterie.
3325 Allas, ye lordes, many a fals flatour
3326 Is in youre courtes, and many a losengeour,
3327 That plesen yow wel moore, by my feith,
3328 Than he that soothfastnesse unto yow seith.
3329 Redeth Ecclesiaste of flaterye;
3330 Beth war, ye lordes, of hir trecherye.
3331 This Chauntecleer stood hye upon his toos,
3332 Strecchynge his nekke, and heeld his eyen cloos,
3333 And gan to crowe loude for the nones.
3334 And daun Russell the fox stirte up atones,
3335 And by the gargat hente Chauntecleer,
3336 And on his bak toward the wode hym beer,
3337 For yet ne was ther no man that hym sewed.
3338 O destinee, that mayst nat been eschewed!
3339 Allas, that Chauntecleer fleigh fro the bemes!
3340 Allas, his wyf ne roghte nat of dremes!
3341 And on a Friday fil al this meschaunce.
3342 O Venus, that art goddesse of plesaunce,
3343 Syn that thy servant was this Chauntecleer,
3344 And in thy servyce dide al his poweer,
3345 Moore for delit than world to multiplye,
3346 Why woldestow suffre hym on thy day to dye?
3347 O Gaufred, deere maister soverayn,
3348 That whan thy worthy kyng Richard was slayn
3349 With shot, compleynedest his deeth so soore,
3350 Why ne hadde I now thy sentence and thy loore,
3351 The Friday for to chide, as diden ye?
3352 For on a Friday, soothly, slayn was he.
3353 Thanne wolde I shewe yow how that I koude pleyne
3354 For Chauntecleres drede and for his peyne.
3355 Certes, swich cry ne lamentacion
3356 Was nevere of ladyes maad whan Ylion
3357 Was wonne, and Pirrus with his streite swerd,
3358 Whan he hadde hent kyng Priam by the berd,
3359 And slayn hym, as seith us Eneydos,
3360 As maden alle the hennes in the clos,
3361 Whan they had seyn of Chauntecleer the sighte.
3362 But sovereynly dame Pertelote shrighte
3363 Ful louder than dide Hasdrubales wyf,
3364 Whan that hir housbonde hadde lost his lyf
3365 And that the Romayns hadde brend Cartage.
3366 She was so ful of torment and of rage
3367 That wilfully into the fyr she sterte
3368 And brende hirselven with a stedefast herte.
3369 O woful hennes, right so criden ye
3370 As whan that Nero brende the citee
3371 Of Rome cryden senatoures wyves
3372 For that hir husbondes losten alle hir lyves —
3373 Withouten gilt this Nero hath hem slayn.
3374 Now wole I turne to my tale agayn.
3375 This sely wydwe and eek hir doghtres two
3376 Herden thise hennes crie and maken wo,
3377 And out at dores stirten they anon,
3378 And syen the fox toward the grove gon,
3379 And bar upon his bak the cok away,
3380 And cryden, “Out! Harrow and weylaway!
3381 Ha, ha! The fox!” and after hym they ran,
3382 And eek with staves many another man.
3383 Ran Colle oure dogge, and Talbot and Gerland,
3384 And Malkyn, with a dystaf in hir hand;
3385 Ran cow and calf, and eek the verray hogges,
3386 So fered for the berkyng of the dogges
3387 And shoutyng of the men and wommen eeke
3388 They ronne so hem thoughte hir herte breeke.
3389 They yolleden as feendes doon in helle;
3390 The dokes cryden as men wolde hem quelle;
3391 The gees for feere flowen over the trees;
3392 Out of the hyve cam the swarm of bees.
3393 So hydous was the noyse — a, benedicitee! —
3394 Certes, he Jakke Straw and his meynee
3395 Ne made nevere shoutes half so shrille
3396 Whan that they wolden any Flemyng kille,
3397 As thilke day was maad upon the fox.
3398 Of bras they broghten bemes, and of box,
3399 Of horn, of boon, in whiche they blewe and powped,
3400 And therwithal they skriked and they howped.
3401 It semed as that hevene sholde falle.
3402 Now, goode men, I prey yow herkneth alle:
3403 Lo, how Fortune turneth sodeynly
3404 The hope and pryde eek of hir enemy!
3405 This cok, that lay upon the foxes bak,
3406 In al his drede unto the fox he spak,
3407 And seyde, “Sire, if that I were as ye,
3408 Yet sholde I seyn, as wys God helpe me,
3409 ‘Turneth agayn, ye proude cherles alle!
3410 A verray pestilence upon yow falle!
3411 Now I am come unto the wodes syde;
3412 Maugree youre heed, the cok shal heere abyde.
3413 I wol hym ete, in feith, and that anon!'”
3414 The fox answerde, “In feith, it shal be don.”
3415 And as he spak that word, al sodeynly
3416 This cok brak from his mouth delyverly,
3417 And heighe upon a tree he fleigh anon.
3418 And whan the fox saugh that the cok was gon,
3419 ” Allas!” quod he, “O Chauntecleer, allas!
3420 I have to yow,” quod he, “ydoon trespas,
3421 In as muche as I maked yow aferd
3422 Whan I yow hente and broghte out of the yerd.
3423 But, sire, I dide it in no wikke entente.
3424 Com doun, and I shal telle yow what I mente;
3425 I shal seye sooth to yow, God help me so!”
3426 “Nay thanne,” quod he, “I shrewe us bothe two.
3427 And first I shrewe myself, bothe blood and bones,
3428 If thou bigyle me ofter than ones.
3429 Thou shalt namoore thurgh thy flaterye
3430 Do me to synge and wynke with myn ye;
3431 For he that wynketh, whan he sholde see,
3432 Al wilfully, God lat him nevere thee!”
3433 “Nay,” quod the fox, “but God yeve hym meschaunce,
3434 That is so undiscreet of governaunce
3435 That jangleth whan he sholde holde his pees.”
3436 Lo, swich it is for to be recchelees
3437 And necligent, and truste on flaterye.
3438 But ye that holden this tale a folye,
3439 As of a fox, or of a cok and hen,
3440 Taketh the moralite, goode men.
3441 For Seint Paul seith that al that writen is,
3442 To oure doctrine it is ywrite, ywis;
3443 Taketh the fruyt, and lat the chaf be stille.
3444 Now, goode God, if that it be thy wille,
3445 As seith my lord, so make us alle goode men,
3446 And brynge us to his heighe blisse! Amen.

Epilogue

3447 [“Sire Nonnes Preest,” oure Hooste seide anoon,
3448 “I-blessed be thy breche, and every stoon!
3449 This was a murie tale of Chauntecleer.
3450 But by my trouthe, if thou were seculer,
3451 Thou woldest ben a trede-foul aright.
3452 For if thou have corage as thou hast myght,
3453 Thee were nede of hennes, as I wene,
3454 Ya, moo than seven tymes seventene.
3455 See, whiche braunes hath this gentil preest,
3456 So gret a nekke, and swich a large breest!
3457 He loketh as a sperhauk with his yen;
3458 Him nedeth nat his colour for to dyen
3459 With brasile ne with greyn of Portyngale.
3460 Now, sire, faire falle yow for youre tale!”
3461 And after that he, with ful merie chere,
3462 Seide unto another, as ye shuln heere.]

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