Canterbury Tales (Barnes & Noble Classics Series)

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Canterbury Tales (Barnes & Noble Classics Series) Page 8

by Geoffrey Chaucer


  He kepte that he wan in pestilence.

  For gold in phisik is a cordial,

  Therfore he lovede gold in special.

  A good WYF was ther of bisyde BATHE,

  But she was som-del deef, and that was scathe.

  Of clooth-making she hadde swiche an haunt,

  She passed hem of Ypres and of Gaunt.

  In al the parisshe wyf ne was ther noon

  That to th’ offring bifore hir sholde goon;

  And if ther dide, certeyn, so wrooth was she,

  That she was out of alle charitee.

  Hir coverchiefs ful fyne were of ground;

  I dorste swere they weyeden ten pound

  That on a Sonday were upon hir heed.

  Hir hosen weren of fyn scarlet reed,

  Ful streite y-teyd, and shoos ful moiste and newe.

  Bold was hir face, and fair, and reed of hewe.

  She was a worthy womman al hir lyve,

  Housbondes at chirche-dore she hadde fyve,

  Withouten other companye in youthe;

  But therof nedeth nat to speke as nouthe.

  And thryes hadde she been at Jerusalem;

  She hadde passed many a straunge streem;

  To send him drugs and potions,

  For each helped the other to make a profit,

  Their friendship was not new to begin.

  Well he knew the old Aesculapius,

  Dioscorides, and Rufus,

  Old Hippocrates, Hali and Galen,

  Serapion, Rhazes and Avicenna, Averroes,

  Damascenus and Constantine,

  Bernard and Gatesden and Gilbert.26

  Of his diet moderate was he,

  For it was of no great quantity

  But of great nourishment and digestible.

  His study was but little on the Bible.

  In blood red and blue he clad was all,

  Lined with taffeta and fine silk;

  And yet he was not quick to spend,

  He kept what he earned in time of plague,

  For gold is good for the heart in medicine;

  Therefore gold he loved especially.

  A good WIFE there was, from near Bath,

  But she was somewhat deaf, and that was too bad.

  Of clothmaking she had such a talent,

  She surpassed that of Ypres and of Ghent.27

  In all the parish a wife was there none

  Who gave more at the church offering;

  And if they did, certain so angry was she,

  That she was all out of charity.28

  Her Sunday shawls were of full fine hand;

  I daresay that they weighed ten pounds

  That on a Sunday were upon her head.

  Her hose were of fine scarlet red,

  Full tightly tied, and shoes full soft and new.

  Bold was her face, and fair and red of hue.

  She was a worthy woman all her life:

  Husbands at church door29 she’d had five,

  Not counting other company in youth—

  But we need not speak of them right now—

  And thrice had she been to Jerusalem.

  She had crossed many a foreign stream:

  At Rome she hadde been, and at Boloigne,

  In Galice at seint Jame, and at Coloigne.

  She coude muche of wandring by the weye:

  Gat-tothed was she, soothly for to seye.

  Up-on an amblere esily she sat,

  Y-wimpled wel, and on hir heed an hat

  As brood as is a bokeler or a targe;

  A foot-mantel aboute hir hipes large,

  And on hir feet a paire of spores sharpe.

  In felawschip wel coude she laughe and carpe.

  Of remedyes of love she knew perchaunce,

  For she coude of that art the olde daunce.

  A good man was ther of religioun,

  And was a povre PERSOUN of a toun;

  But riche he was of holy thoght and werk.

  He was also a lerned man, a clerk,

  That Cristes gospel trewely wolde preche;

  His parisshens devoutly wolde he teche.

  Benigne he was, and wonder diligent,

  And in adversitee ful pacient;

  And swich he was y-preved ofte sythes.

  Ful looth were him to cursen for his tythes,

  But rather wolde he yeven, out of doute,

  Un-to his povre parisshens aboute

  Of his offring, and eek of his substaunce.

  He coude in litel thing han suffisaunce.

  Wyd was his parisshe, and houses fer a-sonder,

  But he ne lafte nat, for reyn ne thonder,

  In siknes nor in meschief, to visyte

  The ferreste in his parisshe, muche and lyte,

  Up-on his feet, and in his hand a staf.

  This noble ensample to his sheep he yaf,

  That first he wroghte, and afterward he taughte;

  Out of the gospel he tho wordes caughte;

  And this figure he added eek ther-to,

  That if gold ruste, what shal iren do?

  For if a preest be foul, on whom we truste,

  No wonder is a lewed man to ruste;

  And shame it is, if a preest take keep,

  To Rome she had been,30 and to Boulogne,

  In Galicia to Saint James, and to Cologne;

  She knew much of wandering along the road.

  Gap-toothed she was, the truth to say.

  Upon an easyriding horse she easily sat,

  Wimpled well, and on her head a hat

  As broad as is a buckler or a targe;

  An overskirt about her hips large,

  And on her feet a pair of spurs sharp.

  She was full of laughter and of gossip.

  Of love remedies she knew by chance,

  For she knew the steps of that old dance.

  A good man was there of religion,

  And he was a poor PARSON of a town,

  But rich he was in holy thought and work.

  He was also a learned man, a scholar

  Who Christ’s gospel truly would preach,

  His parishioners devotedly would he teach.

  Kindly he was, and very diligent,

  And in adversity full patient,

  And he proved to be such oftentimes.

  Full loath was he to excommunicate for his tithes,31

  But rather would he give, without a doubt,

  Unto his poor parishioners out of

  His offerings and his income.

  He knew how to have enough with not much.

  Wide was his parish, and houses far apart,

  But he neglected none, for rain nor thunder,

  In sickness nor in misfortune, to visit

  The furthest in his parish, great and humble,

  Travelling by foot, and in his hand a staff.

  This noble example to his sheep he gave,

  That first he wrought, and afterward he taught.

  From the gospel he these words took,

  And this metaphor he added thereto:

  That if gold rusts, what should iron do?

  For if a priest be corrupt, upon whom we trust,

  No wonder is an unlearned man to rust;

  And shame it is if a priest be seen,

  A shiten shepherde and a clene sheep.

  Wel oghte a preest ensample for to yive,

  By his clennesse, how that his sheep shold live.

  He sette nat his benefice to hyre,

  And leet his sheep encombred in the myre,

  And ran to London, un-to sëynt Poules,

  To seken him a chaunterie for soules,

  Or with a bretherhed to been withholde;

  But dwelte at hoom, and kepte wel his folde,

  So that the wolf ne made it nat miscarie;

  He was a shepherde and no mercenarie.

  And though he holy were, and vertuous,

  He was to sinful man nat despitous,

  Ne of his spe
che daungerous ne digne,

  But in his teching discreet and benigne.

  To drawen folk to heven by fairnesse

  By good ensample, was his bisinesse:

  But it were any persone obstinat,

  What-so he were, of heigh or lowe estat,

  Him wolde he snibben sharply for the nones.

  A bettre preest, I trowe that nowher noon is.

  He wayted after no pompe and reverence,

  Ne maked him a spyced conscience,

  But Cristes lore, and his apostles twelve,

  He taughte, and first he folwed it himselve.

  With him ther was a PLOWMAN, was his

  brother,

  That hadde y-lad of dong ful many a fother,

  A trewe swinker and a good was he,

  Livinge in pees and parfit charitee.

  God loved he best with al his hole herte

  At alle tymes, thogh him gamed or smerte,

  And thanne his neighebour right as himselve.

  He wolde thresshe, and ther-to dyke and delve,

  For Cristes sake, for every povre wight,

  Withouten hyre, if it lay in his might.

  His tythes payed he ful faire and wel,

  Bothe of his propre swink and his catel.

  In a tabard he rood upon a mere.

  As a shitcovered shepherd with clean sheep.

  Well ought a priest example for to give,

  By his cleanliness, how his sheep should live.

  He rented not his benefice out to hire,

  And left his sheep encumbered in the mire,

  And ran into London to Saint Paul’s

  To seek him a sinecure as a chantry-priest,

  Or a retainer as chaplain for a guild,32

  But dwelt at home and kept well his fold.

  So that the wolf didn’t make it come to grief;

  He was a shepherd and not a mercenary.

  And though he holy was, and virtuous,

  He was to sinful men not despising,

  Nor in speech haughty or disdainful,

  But in his teaching discreet and benign.

  To draw folk to heaven by fairness,

  By good example, that was his business;

  But were there any person obstinate,

  Whoever he was, of high or low estate,

  He would him rebuke sharply in that instance.

  A better priest I believe there nowhere is.

  He yearned not for pomp and reverence,

  Nor made a show of righteousness,

  But Christ’s teaching and his apostles twelve,

  He taught, and first he followed it himself.

  With him there was a PLOWMAN,33 who was his

  brother,

  Who had hauled of dung full many a cart.

  An honest worker, and a good one was he,

  Living in peace and perfect charity.

  God loved he best with his whole heart

  At all times, both happy and tough,

  And his neighbor much as himself.

  He would thresh and ditch and shovel,

  For Christ’s sake, for every poor soul,

  Without payment, if it lay in his power.

  His tithes he paid full fair and well,

  Both of his work and his property.

  In a smock he rode upon a mare.

  Ther was also a Reve and a Millere,

  A Somnour and a Pardoner also,

  A Maunciple, and my-self; there were namo.

  The MILLER was a stout carl, for the nones,

  Ful big he was of braun, and eek of bones;

  That proved wel, for over-al ther he cam,

  At wrastling he wolde have alwey the ram.

  He was short-sholdred, brood, a thikke knarre,

  Ther nas no dore that he nolde heve of harre,

  Or breke it, at a renning, with his heed.

  His berd as any sowe or fox was reed,

  And ther-to brood, as though it were a spade.

  Up-on the cop right of his nose he hade

  A werte, and ther-on stood a tuft of heres,

  Reed as the bristles of a sowes eres;

  His nose-thirles blake were and wyde.

  A swerd and bokeler bar he by his syde;

  His mouth as greet was as a greet forneys.

  He was a janglere and a goliardeys,

  And that was most of sinne and harlotryes.

  Wel coude he stelen corn, and tollen thryes;

  And yet he hadde a thombe of gold, pardee.

  A whyt cote and a blew hood wered he.

  A baggepype wel coude he blowe and sowne,

  And ther-with-al he broghte us out of towne.

  A gentil MAUNCIPLE was ther of a temple;

  Of which achatours mighte take exemple

  For to be wyse in bying of vitaille

  For whether that he payde, or took by taille,

  Algate he wayted so in his achat,

  That he was ay biforn and in good stat.

  Now is nat that of God a ful fair grace,

  That swich a lewed mannes wit shal pace

  The wisdom of an heep of lerned men?

  Of maistres hadde he mo than thryes ten,

  That were of lawe expert and curious;

  Of which there were a doseyn in that hous

  Worthy to been stiwardes of rente and lond

  Of any lord that is in Engelond,

  There was also a Reeve34 and a Miller,

  A Summoner35 and a Pardoner36 also,

  A Manciple,37 and myself—there were no more.

  The MILLER was indeed a stout fellow;

  Full big he was of muscle and bones—

  Who proved himself, for wherever he went,

  At wrestling he would always win the ram.

  He was short-shouldered, a broad, thick cudgel:

  There was no door he couldn’t yank off its hinges,

  Or go through by ramming it with his noggin.

  His beard as any sow or fox was red,

  And thereto broad, as though it were a spade.

  Upon the tip of his nose he had

  A wart, and thereon stood a tuft of hairs,

  Red as the bristles of a sow’s ears;

  His nostrils were black and wide.

  A sword and buckler bore he by his side.

  His mouth gaped big as a furnace;

  He was a talker and a joke teller,

  And those mostly of sin and off-color.

  Well could he steal wheat, and grind it thrice,

  And yet he had a thumb of gold, by God.

  A white coat and blue hood wore he.

  A bagpipe well could he blow and sing,

  And with it he brought us out of town.

  A worthy MANCIPLE was there of a law school,

  From whom buyers might take example

  To be smart in purchasing their needs,

  For whether he paid, or put on account,

  Always he so carefully watched his pennies

  That he was always ahead, and in the black.

  Now is that not of God a full fair grace,

  That such an uneducated man should surpass

  The wisdom of a heap of graduates?

  Of masters had he thrice ten

  Who were of law expert and skillful,

  Among whom there were a dozen in that house

  Worthy to be stewards of money and land

  For any lord that is in England,

  To make him live by his propre good,

  In honour dettelees, but he were wood,

  Or live as scarsly as him list desire;

  And able for to helpen al a shire

  In any cas that mighte falle or happe;

  And yit this maunciple sette hir aller cappe.

  The REVE was a sclendre colerik man,

  His berd was shave as ny as ever he can.

  His heer was by his eres round y-shorn.

  His top was dokked lyk a preest biforn.

  Ful longe were his
legges, and ful lene,

  Y-lyk a staf, ther was no calf y-sene.

  Wel coude he kepe a gerner and a binne;

  Ther was noon auditour coude on him winne.

  Wel wiste he, by the droghte, and by the reyn,

  The yelding of his seed, and of his greyn.

  His lordes sheep, his neet, his dayerye,

  His swyn, his hors, his stoor, and his pultrye,

  Was hoolly in this reves governing,

  And by his covenaunt yaf the rekening,

  Sin that his lord was twenty yeer of age;

  Ther coude no man bringe him in arrerage.

  Ther nas baillif, ne herde, ne other hyne,

  That he ne knew his sleighte and his covyne;

  They were adrad of him, as of the deeth.

  His woning was ful fair up-on an heeth,

  With grene trës shadwed was his place.

  He coude bettre than his lord purchace.

  Ful riche he was astored prively,

  His lord wel coude he plesen subtilly,

  To yeve and lene him of his owne good,

  And have a thank, and yet a cote and hood.

  In youthe he lerned hadde a good mister;

  He was a wel good wrighte, a carpenter.

  This reve sat up-on a ful good stot,

  That was al pomely grey, and highte Scot.

  A long surcote of pers up-on he hade,

  And by his syde he bar a rusty blade.

  Of Northfolk was this reve, of which I telle,

  Able to make him live within his means

  In honor, debt free, unless he had big dreams,

  Or to live as frugally as he desired,

  And the same dozen were able to help an entire shire,

  In any situation that might happen or befall,

  And yet this manciple made fools of them all.

  The REEVE was a slender choleric man.

  His beard was shaved as close as he could;

  His hair was by his ears closely shorn,

  His top was cut short like a priest’s in front.

  Full long were his legs, and full lean,

  Like a staff; there was no calf to be seen.

  Well could he keep a granary and a bin—

  There was no auditor who could catch him short.

  Well judged he by the drought and by the rain

  The yielding of his seed and of his grain.

  His lord’s sheep, his cattle, his dairy herd,

  His swine, his horses, his livestock, and his poultry,

  Were wholly in this reeve’s governing,

  And by his contract he kept the reckoning,

  Since his lord was in age but twenty years.

  There could no man bring him in arrears.

  There was no bailiff, nor herdsman, nor other servant,

  But that he knew their tricks and their deceit;

  They were afraid of him as of the Death.

  His dwelling was full fair upon a heath;

  With green trees shadowed was his place.

 

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