Canterbury Tales (Barnes & Noble Classics Series)

by Geoffrey Chaucer

  A God’s halfpenny, or a mass penny,5

  Or give us of your meat, if you have any;

  A piece of your cloth, dear dame,

  Our sister dear—Look! Here I write your name—

  Bacon or beef, or such thing as you find.”

  A sturdy servant went always them behind,

  Who worked for the host at their inn, and bore a sack,

  And what men gave them, laid it on his back.

  And when he was out of door, anon

  He erased away the names every one

  That he before had written in his tablets;

  He served them with silly stories and with fables.

  “Nay, there you lie, you Summoner!” said the Friar.

  “Peace,” said our Host, “for Christ’s mother dear!

  Tell forth your tale, and spare it not at all.”

  “So thrive I,” said this summoner, “so I shall!”

  So along he went, house by house, till he

  Came to a house where he was wont to be

  Refreshed more than in a hundred other places.

  Sick lay the good man whose place it was;

  Bedridden upon a couch low he lay.

  “Deus hic!”6 said he, “Oh Thomas, friend, good day!”

  Said this friar, courteously and soft.

  “Thomas,” said he, “God reward you! Full often

  Have I upon this bench fared full well;

  Here have I eaten many a merry meal.”

  And from the bench he drove away the cat,

  And leyde adoun his potente and his hat,

  And eek his scrippe, and sette him softe adoun.

  His felawe was go walked in-to toun,

  Forth with his knave, in-to that hostelrye

  Wher-as he shoop him thilke night to lye.

  “O dere maister,” quod this syke man,

  “How han ye fare sith that March bigan?

  I saugh yow noght this fourtenight or more.”

  “God woot,” quod he, “laboured have I ful sore;

  And specially, for thy savacioun

  Have I seyd many a precious orisoun

  And for our othere frendes, god hem blesse!

  I have to-day been at your chirche at mese,

  And seyd a sermon after my simple wit,

  Nat al after the text of holy writ;

  For it is hard to yow, as I suppose,

  And therfore wol I teche yow al the glose.

  Glosinge is a glorious thing, certeyn,

  For lettre sleeth, so as we clerkes seyn.

  Ther have I taught hem to be charitable,

  And spende hir good ther it is resonable,

  And ther I saugh our dame; a! wher is she?”

  “Yond in the yerd I trowe that she be,”

  Seyde this man, “and she wol come anon.”

  “Ey, maister! wel-come be ye, by seint John!

  Seyde this wyf, ”how fare ye hertely?”

  The frere aryseth up ful curteisly,

  And hir embraceth in his armes narwe,

  And kiste hir swete, and chirketh as a sparwe

  With his lippes: “dame,” quod he, “right weel,

  As he that is your servant every deel.

  Thanked be god, that yow yaf soule and lyf,

  Yet saugh I nat this day so fair a wyf

  In al the chirche, god so save me!”

  “Ye, god amende defautes, sir,” quod she,

  “Algates wel-come be ye, by my fey!”

  “Graunt mercy, dame, this have I founde alwey.

  But of your grete goodnesse, by your leve,

  I wolde prey yow that ye nat yow greve,

  And laid down his walking stick and his hat,

  And also his tablets, and set himself soft adown.

  His fellow was gone walking into town

  Forth with his servant, into that hostelry

  Where he intended that night to stay.

  “Oh dear master,” said this sick man,

  “How have you fared since March began?

  I saw you not this fortnight or more.”

  “God knows,” said he, “labored have I full sore,

  And specially for your salvation

  Have I said many a precious orison,7

  And for our other friends, God them bless!

  I have today been at your church at mass,

  And said a sermon after my simple wit—

  Not all after the text of holy writ,

  For it is hard for you, as I suppose,

  And therefore will I interpret it for you.

  Interpretation is glorious, certainly,

  The letters slay,8 so we clerics say—

  There have I taught them to be charitable

  And spend their money where it is reasonable;

  And there I saw our dame—Ah! Where is she?”

  “Yonder in the yard I believe that she be,”

  Said this man, “and she will come anon.”

  “Aye, master, welcome be you, by Saint John!”

  Said this wife, “How fare you, I ask?”

  The friar arose full courteously,

  And her embraced tightly in his arms,

  And kissed her sweet, and made chirping sounds, like a sparrow,

  With his lips. “Dame,” said he, “right well,

  As he who is your servant in every way,

  Thanks be God, that you have soul and life!

  Yet saw I not this day so fair a wife

  In all the church, God so me save!”

  “Well, God amend my defects,” said she.

  “Anyway, welcome be you, by my faith!”

  “Grant mercy, dame, this have I found always.

  But by your kindness—if I may

  Take advantage—you are so kind—

  I wol with Thomas speke a litel throwe.

  Thise curats been ful necligent and slowe

  To grope tendrely a conscience.

  In shrift, in preching is my diligence,

  And studie in Petres wordes, and in Poules.

  I walke, and fisshe Cristen mennes soules,

  To yelden Jesu Crist his propre rente;

  To sprede his word is set al myn entente.”

  “Now, by your leve, o dere sir,” quod she,

  “Chydeth him weel, for seinte Trinitee.

  He is as angry as a pissemyre,

  Though that he have al that he can desyre.

  Though I him wrye a-night and make him warm,

  And on hym leve my leg outher myn arm,

  He groneth lyk our boor, lyth in our sty.

  Other desport right noon of him have I;

  I may nat plese him in no maner cas.”

  “O Thomas! Je vous dy, Thomas! Thomas!

  This maketh the feend, this moste ben amended.

  Ire is a thing that hye god defended,

  And ther-of wol I speke a word or two.”

  “Now maister,” quod the wyf, “er that I go,

  What wol ye dyne? I wol go ther-aboute.”

  “Now dame,” quod he, “Je vous dy sanz doute,

  Have I nat of a capon but the livere,

  And of your softe breed nat but a shivere,

  And after that a rosted pigges heed,

  (But that I nolde no beest for me were deed),

  Thanne hadde I with yow hoomly suffisaunce.

  I am a man of litel sustenaunce.

  My spirit hath his fostring in the Bible.

  The body is ay so redy and penyble

  To wake, that my stomak is destroyed.

  I prey yow, dame, ye be nat anoyed,

  Though I so freendly yow my conseil shewe;

  By god, I wolde nat telle it but a fewe.”

  “Now, sir,” quod she, “but o word er I go;

  My child is deed with-inne thise wykes two,

  Sone after that ye wente out of this toun.”

  I would with Thomas speak a little while.

  These curates be full negligent an
d slow

  To plumb tenderly a conscience

  In confession;9 in preaching is my diligence,

  And study in Peter’s words and Paul’s.

  I roam and fish Christian men’s souls

  To give to Jesus Christ his proper rent;

  To spread his word is set all my intent.”

  “Now, by your leave, oh dear sir,” said she,

  “Chide him well, for saint Trinity!

  He is as angry as an ant,

  Though he has all that he can want;

  Though I him cover at night and make him warm,

  And over him lay my leg or my arm,

  He groans like our pig that lies in our sty.

  Other sport right none of him have I;

  I may not please him in any way.”

  “Oh Thomas, je vous dis,10 Thomas! Thomas!

  This strengthens the fiend, this must be amended.

  Ire is a thing that high God has forbidden,

  And thereof will I speak a word or two.”

  “Now master,” said the wife, “before I go,

  What will you have for dinner? I will cook it now.”

  “Now dame,” said he, “now je vous dis sans doute,

  May I have of a capon but the liver,

  And of your soft bread not but a sliver,

  And after that a roasted pig’s head—

  Though I would that no beast for me were dead—

  That would be fare comforting and sufficient.

  I am a man who eats but little;

  My spirit has its nourishment in the Bible.

  The body is ever so ready and accustomed to suffer,

  From nights spent in prayer, that destroyed is my stomach.

  I pray you, dame, be not annoyed,

  Though I so friendly my counsel show you.

  By God! I would not tell it to but a few.”

  “Now, sire,” said she, “one word before I go.

  My child is dead within these weeks two,

  Soon after that you went out of this town.”

  “His deeth saugh I by revelacioun,”

  Seith this frere, “at hoom in our dortour.

  I dar wel seyn that, er that half an hour

  After his deeth, I saugh him born to blisse

  In myn avisioun, so god me wisse!

  So did our sexteyn and our fermerer,

  That han been trewe freres fifty yeer;

  They may now, god be thanked of his lone,

  Maken hir jubilee and walke allone.

  And up I roos, and al our covent eke,

  With many a tere trikling on my cheke,

  Withouten noyse or clateringe of belles;

  Te deum was our song and no-thing elles,

  Save that to Crist I seyde an orisoun,

  Thankinge him of his revelacioun.

  For sir and dame, trusteth me right weel,

  Our orisons been more effectueel,

  And more we seen of Cristes secree thinges

  Than burel folk, al-though they weren kinges.

  We live in povert and in abstinence,

  And burel folk in richesse and despence

  Of mete and drinke, and in hir foul delyt.

  We han this worldes lust al in despyt.

  Lazar and Dives liveden diversly,

  And diverse guerdon hadden they ther-by.

  Who-so wol preye, he moot faste and be clene,

  And fatte his soule and make his body lene.

  We fare as seith th‘apostle; cloth and fode

  Suffysen us, though they be nat ful gode.

  The clennesse and the fastinge of us freres

  Maketh that Crist accepteth our preyeres.

  Lo, Moyses fourty dayes and fourty night

  Fasted, er that the heighe god of might

  Spak with him in the mountain of Sinay.

  With empty wombe, fastinge many a day,

  Receyved he the lawe that was writen

  With goddes finger; and Elie, wel ye witen,

  In mount Oreb, er he hadde any speche

  With hye god, that is our lyves leche,

  “His death saw I by revelation,”

  Said the friar, “at home in our monastery.

  I dare well say that, before half an hour

  After his death, I saw him borne to bliss

  In my vision, so God me guide!

  So did our sexton and our infirmary manager,

  Who have been for fifty years true friars;

  They may now—God be thanked for his grace!—

  Mark their jubilee and walk alone.11

  And up I rose, and all our brothers also,

  With many a tear trickling on my cheek,

  Without noise or clattering of bells;

  Te Deum12 was our song and nothing else,

  Only that to Christ I said an orison,

  Thanking him for his revelation.

  For, sire and dame, trust me right well,

  Our orisons be more effectual,

  And more we see of Christ’s secret things,

  Than secular folk, even though they may be kings.

  We live in poverty and abstinence,

  And secular folk in richness and extravagance

  Of meat and drink, and in their foul delight.

  We all this world’s lusts despise.

  Lazar and Dives lived differently,13

  And different rewards had they thereby.

  Whoso will pray, he must fast and be chaste,

  And fatten his soul, and make his body lean.

  We fare as says the apostle; clothing and food

  Suffice us, though they be not fancy.

  The chastity and the fasting of us friars

  Makes that Christ accepts our prayers.

  “Look, Moses forty days and forty nights

  Fasted, before the high God of might

  Spoke with him on the mount of Sinai.14

  With empty stomach, fasting many a day,

  Received he the law that was written

  With God’s finger; and Elijah, well you know,

  On Mount Horeb, before he made any speech

  With high God, who is our lives’ healer,

  He fasted longe and was in contemplaunce.

  Aaron, that hadde the temple in governaunce,

  And eek the othere preestes everichon,

  In-to the temple whan they sholde gon

  To preye for the peple, and do servyse,

  They nolden drinken, in no maner wyse,

  No drinke, which that mighte hem dronke make,

  But there in abstinence preye and wake,

  Lest that they deyden; tak heed what I seye.

  But they be sobre that for the peple preye,

  War that I seye; namore! for it suffyseth,

  Our lord Jesu, as holy writ devyseth,

  Yaf us ensample of fastinge and preyeres.

  Therfor we mendinants, we sely freres,

  Been wedded to poverte and continence,

  To charitee, humblesse, and abstinence,

  To persecucion for rightwisnesse,

  To wepinge, misericorde, and clennesse.

  And therfor may ye see that our preyeres—

  I speke of us, we mendinants, we freres—

  Ben to the hye god more acceptable

  Than youres, with your festes at the table.

  Fro Paradys first, if I shal nat lye,

  Was man out chaced for his glotonye;

  And chaast was man in Paradys, certeyn.

  But herkne now, Thomas, what I shal seyn.

  I ne have no text of it, as I suppose,

  But I shall finde it in a maner glose,

  That specially our swete lord Jesus

  Spak this by freres, whan he seyde thus:

  ‘Blessed be they that povre in spirit been.’

  And so forth al the gospel may ye seen,

  Wher it be lyker our professioun,

  Or hirs that swimmen in possessioun.

  Fy on h
ir pompe and on hir glotonye!

  And for hir lewednesse I hem diffye.

  Me thinketh they ben lyk Jovinian,

  Fat as a whale, and walkinge as a swan;

  Al vinolent as botel in the spence.

  He fasted long and was in contemplation.15

  “Aaron, who had the temple in governance,

  And also the other priests every one,

  Into the temple when they should go

  To pray for the people and do service,

  They would not drink in any way

  Any drink which might them drunken make,

  But there in abstinence pray and hold vigil,

  Lest they die.16 Take heed what I say!

  Unless they be sober who for the people pray,

  Beware—I say no more, for it suffices.

  Our Lord Jesus, as holy writ describes,

  Gave us examples of fasting and prayers.

  Therefore we mendicants, we blessed friars,

  Be wedded to poverty and continence,

  To charity, humility, and abstinence,

  To persecution too for righteousness,

  To weeping, mercy, and chastity.

  And therefore may you see that our prayers—

  I speak of us, we mendicants, we friars—

  Be to the high God more acceptable

  Than yours, with your feasts at the table.

  From Paradise first, if I shall not lie,

  Was man out-chased for his gluttony;

  And chaste was man in Paradise, certainly.

  “But harken now, Thomas, to what I shall say.

  I have no text for it, as I suppose,

  But I shall find it in some gloss,

  That specially our sweet Lord Jesus

  Spoke of friars, when he said thus:

  ‘Blessed be they who poor in spirit be.’

  And so forth in all the gospel may you see,

  That it more resembles our profession,

  Than those who swim in possessions.

  Fie on pomp and on their gluttony!

  And for their ignorance I them revile.

  “Methinks they be like Jovinianus, 17

  Fat as a whale, and waddling like a duck,17

  And like old wine bottles their drunkard’s breath.

  Hir preyer is of ful gret reverence;

  Whan they for soules seye the psalm of Davit,

  Lo,‘buP’they seye, ‘cor meum eructavit!’

  Who folweth Cristes gospel and his fore,

  But we that humble been and chast and pore,

  Werkers of goddes word, not auditours?

  Therfore, right as an hauk up, at a sours,

  Up springeth in-to their, right so prayeres

  Of charitable and chaste bisy freres

  Maken hir sours to goddes eres two.

  Thomas! Thomas! so mote I ryde or go,

  And by that lord that clepid is seint Yve,

  Nere thou our brother, sholdestou nat thryve!

  In our chapitre praye we day and night