Let now," quoth she, "thy trompè gone,
Thou Eolus, that is so black;
And out thine other trompè take,
That hight Laud,1 and blow it so
That through the world2 their fame go,
All easily and not too fast,
That it be knowen at the last."
"Full gladly, lady mine," he said;
And out his trump of gold he brayed
Anon, and set it to his mouth,
And blew it east, and west, and south,
And north, as loud as any thunder,
That every wight hath of it wonder:
So broad it ran or that it stent.3
And, certes, all the breath that went
Out of his trumpès mouth y-smelled1
As men a pot full of balm held
Among a basket full of roses :
This favour did he to their loses.5
And right with this I gan espy
There came the fouerth 2 company,-
But certain they were wonder few,-
And gon to standen on a rew,
And saiden, "Certes, lady bright,
We have done well with all our might,
But we ne keepè to have fame;
Hide our workès and our name,
For Goddès love; for, certes, we
Have surely done it for bounty,
And for no manner other thing."
"I grant you all your asking,"
Quoth she; "let your works be dead."
With that, about I turned my head,
And saw anon the fiftè rout,
That to this ladye gan lout,8
And down on knees anon to fall;
And to her they besoughten all
To hiden their good workès eke ;9
And said they given not a leek
For no fame ne such renown;
For they for contemplation
And Goddès love had it y-wrought,
Ne of fame would they nought.
2 The word world was pronounced sometimes as a dissyllable. 7 Iook.
"What!" quoth she, "and ye be wood?1 And ween ye for to doen good
And for to have of that no fame?
Have ye despite to have my name?
Nay, ye shall lien2 every one.
Blow thy trump, and that anon,"
Quoth she, "thou Eolus, I hote; 3
And ring these folkès works by note,
That all the world may of it hear!"
And he gan blow their los so clear
In his golden clarioun ;
Through the world went the soun
All so kindly and eke so soft
That their fame was blown aloft. ...
With that I gan about to wend;
For one that stood right at my back,
Me thought, full goodly to me spake,
And saidè, Friend, what is thy name?
Art thou come hither to have fame?"
Nay, forsoothe, friend," quoth I;
"I come not hither, graunt mercy,
For no such causè, by my head.
Sufficeth me, as I were dead,
That no wight have my name in hond.
I wot5 myself best how I stond;
For what I dree6 or what I think
I woll myselfè all it drink,
Certain for the morè part,
As far-forth as I can mine art.
Fly fro the press and dwell with soothfastness ;7
Suffice unto thy good though it be small;
For hoard hath hate and climbing tickleness,
Press hath envy, and weal is blent over-all:
Savour9 no more than thee behovè 10 shall;
Rede11 well thyself that other folk canst rede;
And Truth thee shall deliver, it is no drede.12
Paine thee not each crooked to redress
In trust of her that turneth as a ball;
Great rest standeth in little busyness.
Beware also to spurn against an awl ;
Strive not as doth a crockè1 with a wall;
Deemè 2 thyself that deemest others' deed;
And Truth thee shall deliver, it is no drede.
That thee is sent, receive in buxomness;3
The wrastling of this world asketh a fall.
Here is no home, here is but wilderness.
Forth, pilgrim! Forth, beast, out of thy stall !
Look up on high, and thankè God of all.
Waive thy lusts, and let thy ghost thee lead;
And Truth thee shall deliver, it is no drede.
FROM THE CANTERBURY TALES (Prologue).
THE PILGRIMS ASSEMBLE AT THE TABARD INN.
When that Aprilè with his showrès soot5
The drought of March hath pierced to the root,
And bathed every vein in such licour, 6
Of which virtue engendred is the flower;
When Zephyrus eke with his sweetè breath
Inspirèd hath in every holt and heath
The tender croppès, and the youngè sun
Hath in the Ram his halfè course y-run,
And smallè fowlès maken melodie,
That sleepen all the night with open eye,
So pricketh them nature in their courages :-
Then longen folk to gon on pilgrimages,
And palmers for to seeken strangè stronds,
To fernè hallows couth in sundry londs;
And specially from every shire's end
Of Engelond to Canterbury they wend,
The holy blissful martyr for to seek
That them hath holpen 10 when that they were sick.
Befell that, in that season on a day,
In Southwark at the Tabard11 as I lay,
7 The sun begins his course in the Zodiac in April.
8 Far hallows, distant shrines, known in sundry lands. 9 St. Thomas à Becket.
Ready to wenden on my pilgrimage
To Canterbury with full devout courage,
At night was come into that hostelry
Well nine and twenty in a company,
Of sondry folk by aventure y-fall
In fellowship; and pilgrims were they all,
That to-ward Canterbury wolden ride.
The chambers and the stables weren wide,
And well we weren easèd at the best.
A Knight there was,2 and that a worthy man,
That, from the timè that he first began
To riden out, he loved chivalry,
Truth and honour, freedom and courtesy.
Full worthy was he in his lordès werrè ;3
And thereto had he ridden, no man ferrè,+
As well in Christendom as Heatheness,
And ever honoured for his worthiness.
At Alisandre he was when it was won.5
Full oftè-time he had the bordR begun
Aboven allè nations in Pruce.7
In Lettow had he reisèd, and in Ruce,10
No Christen man so oft of his degree.
In Gernade11 at the siege eke had he be12
Of Algesir; and ridden in Belmarie.13
At Lieys 14 was he, and at Satalie,15
When they were won and in the Greatè Seale
At many a noble army had he be.
At mortal battles had he been fifteen,
And foughten for our faith at Tramisene 17
In listès thriès, and aye slain his foe.
This ilke 18 worthy knight had been also
Sometime with the lord of Palatie 19
Again 20 another heathen in Turkie.
2 It was common in Chaucer's age for knights to seek employment in foreign countries which were at war.
4 Farther. 5 Alexandria in Egypt was taken and afterwards abandoned, 1365, by Pierre de Lusignan, King of Cyprus. 6 Tournament. 8 Lithuania. 11 The city of Algezir was taken from the Moorish king of Granada in 1344. 12 Been. 13 A Moorish kingdom in Africa.
9 Travelled: German reise, journey.
14 Lieys, in Armenia, taken from the Turks by Pierre de Lusignan, 1367.
15 Taken by the same prince soon after 1352.
16 Mediterranean, on the coast of Palestine.
17 Another Moorish kingdom in Africa.
And evermore he had a soverain prise.1
And, though that he was worthy, he was wise,
And of his port2 as meek as is a maid.
He never yet no villainy ne said
In all his life unto no manner wight:3
He was a very perfit gentle knight.
But for to tellen you of his array :
His horse was good, but he ne was not gay;
Of fustian he wearèd a gipon,1
All besmothered with his habergeon;
For he was late y-come from his voyage,
And wentè for to done his pilgrimage.
With him there was his son, a youngè Squier,
A lover, and a lusty bacheler,
With lockès crull as they were laid in press;
Of twenty year of age he was I guess.
Of his stature he was of even length,
And wonderly deliver, and great of strength.
And he had been sometime in chevachie7
In Flaunders, in Artois, and Picardie,
And borne him well as in so little space,
In hope to stonden in his lady grace.
Embroided was he, as it were a mead
All full of freshè flowers white and red
Singing he was or floiting all the day :
He was as fresh as is the month of May.
Short was his gown, with sleevès long and wide :
Well could he sit on horse and fairè ride;
He coulde songès make and well endite,9
Just,10 and eke dance, and well pourtray,11 and write.
So hot he loved that by nightertale 12
He slept no more than doth the nightingale.
Courteis 13 he was, lowly and servisable,14
And carf 15 beforn his fader 16 at the table.
1 A princely reputation. 4 A short cassock.
8 Playing on a flute.
12 Night-time.
14 Willing to be of service.
|