The Canterbury Tales
Page 59
480 To giden us unto thy sone so deere.
My konning481 is so waik, o blisful queene,
For to declare thy grete worthinesse,
That I ne may the weighte nat sustene,
But as a child of twelf-month old or lesse,
485 That kan unnethes485 any word expresse,
Right so fare I; and therfore I yow preye,
Gideth487 my song that I shal of yow seye.’
THE PRIORESS’S TALE
Heere biginneth the Prioresses Tale.
Ther was in Asie, in a greet citee,
Amonges Cristen folk, a Jewerye489,
490 Sustened490 by a lord of that contree,
For foule usure and lucre of vileinye491,
Hateful to Crist and to his compaignye492.
And thurgh this strete men mighte ride or wende493,
For it was free and open at either ende.
495 A litel scole495 of Cristen folk ther stood
Doun at the ferther ende, in which ther were
Children an heep497, ycomen of Cristen blood,
That lerned in that scole, yeer by yere,
Swich manere doctrine499 as men used there –
500 This is to seyn, to singen and to rede,
As smale children doon in hir childhede.
Among thise children was a widwes sone,
A litel clergeoun503, seven yeer of age,
That day by day to scole was his wone504.
505 And eek also, wheras he say505 th’image
Of Cristes moder, hadde he in usage506,
As him was taught, to knele adoun and seye
His Ave Marie, as he goth by the weye.
Thus hath this widwe hir litel sone ytaught
510 Oure blisful lady, Cristes moder deere,
To worshipe ay; and he forgat it naught,
For sely512 child wol alwey soone lere.
But ay513 whan I remembre on this matere,
Seint Nicholas stant514 evere in my presence,
515 For515 he so yong to Crist dide reverence.
This litel child, his litel book lerninge,
As he sat in the scole at his primer517,
He Alma redemptoris herde singe,
As children lerned hir antiphoner519;
520 And as he dorste, he drow him ner and ner520,
And herkned ay the wordes and the note,
Til he the firste vers522 koude al by rote.
Noght wiste he what this Latin was to seye523,
For he so yong and tendre was of age;
525 But on a day his felawe gan he preye525
T’expounden him this song in his langage,
Or telle him why this song was in usage.
This preide he him to construe528 and declare,
Ful often time, upon his knowes529 bare.
530 His felawe, which that elder was than he,
Answerde him thus: ‘This song, I have herd seye,
Was maked of532 oure blisful Lady free,
Hire to salue, and eek hire for to preye
To been oure help and socour whan we deye.
535 I kan namoore expounde in this matere;
I lerne song536; I kan but smal gramere.’
‘And is this song maked in reverence
Of Cristes moder?’ seide this innocent.
‘Now, certes, I wol do my diligence539
540 To konne540 it al er Cristemasse is went,
Thogh that I for my primer shal be shent541,
And shal be beten thries in an houre,
I wol it konne, Oure Lady for t’honoure.’
His felawe taughte him homward544 prively,
545 Fro day to day, til he koude it by rote,
And thanne he song546 it wel and boldely,
Fro word to word, acording with the note.
Twies a day it passed thurgh his throte,
To scoleward549 and homward whan he wente;
550 On Cristes moder550 set was his entente.
As I have seid, thurghout the Juerye551,
This litel child, as he cam to and fro,
Ful murily553 than wolde he singe and crye
‘O alma redemptoris’ everemo.
555 The swetnesse hath his herte perced so
Of Cristes moder that, to hire to preye,
He kan nat stinte of557 singing by the weye.
Oure firste foo558, the serpent Sathanas,
That hath in Jewes herte his waspes nest,
560 Up swal560 and seide, ‘O Hebraik peple, allas!
Is this to yow a thing that is honest561,
That swich a boy shal walken as him lest562
In youre despit563, and singe of swich sentence,
Which is agains youre lawes reverence?’
565 Fro thennesforth565 the Jewes han conspired
This innocent out of this world to chace566.
An homicide567 therto han they yhired,
That in an aleye hadde a privee place,
And as the child gan forby for to pace569,
570 This cursed Jew him hente570, and heeld him faste,
And kitte571 his throte, and in a pit him caste.
I seye, that in a wardrobe572 they him threwe,
Wheras thise Jewes purgen hir entraille573.
O cursed folk of Herodes al newe,
575 What may youre ivel entente yow availle?
Mordre576 wol out, certein, it wol nat faille,
And namely ther th’onour of God shal sprede;
The blood out cryeth on youre cursed dede.
O martyr, souded to579 virginitee,
580 Now maystow singen, folwing evere in oon580
The white Lamb celestial – quod she –
Of which the grete evangelist, Seint John,
In Pathmos wroot, which seyth that they that gon
Biforn this lamb, and singe a song al newe,
585 That nevere, flesshly585, wommen they ne knewe.
This povre widwe awaiteth586 al that night
After hir litel child, but he cam noght.
For which, as soone as it was dayes light,
With face pale of drede and bisy thoght589,
590 She hath at scole and elleswhere him soght;
Til finally she gan so fer espye591
That he last seyn was in the Jewerye.
With modres pitee in hir brest enclosed,
She goth, as she were half out of hir minde,
595 To every place wher she hath supposed
By liklihede596 hir litel child to finde;
And evere on Cristes moder meke and kinde
She cride, and at the laste thus she wroghte598:
Among the cursed Jewes she him soghte.
600 She fraineth600 and she preyeth pitously
To every Jew that dwelte in thilke place,
To telle hire if hir child wente oght forby602.
They seide ‘nay’; but Jesu, of his grace,
Yaf604 in hir thoght, inwith a litel space,
605 That in that place after605 hir sone she cride,
Wher he was casten in a pit biside.
O grete God, that parfournest thy laude
By mouth of innocentz, lo here thy might!
This gemme of chastitee, this emeraude609,
610 And eek of martyrdom the ruby bright,
Ther611 he with throte ykorven lay upright,
He Alma redemptoris gan to singe
So loude that al the place gan to ringe.
The Cristen folk that thurgh the strete wente
615 In coomen615 for to wondre upon this thing,
And hastily they for the provost616 sente.
He cam anon withouten tarying,
And herieth618 Crist, that is of hevene king,
And eek his moder, honour of mankinde,
620 And after that the Jewes leet he binde620.
This child with pitous lamentacioun
Up taken was, singinge his song alway;
And with honour of greet p
rocessioun
They caryen him unto the nexte abbay.
625 His moder swowning625 by his beere lay;
Unnethe626 mighte the peple that was there
This newe Rachel bringen fro his beere.
With torment628 and with shameful deth echon
This provost dooth the Jewes for to sterve629
630 That of this mordre wiste, and that anon.
He nolde no swich cursednesse631 observe.
Ivel shal have that ivel wol deserve;
Therfore with wilde hors he dide hem drawe633,
And after that he heng634 hem by the lawe.
635 Upon his beere ay635 lith this innocent,
Biforn the chief auter636, whil the masse laste,
And after that the abbot with his covent637
Han sped hem638 for to buryen him ful faste.
And whan they holy water on him caste,
640 Yet spak this child, whan spreind640 was holy water,
And song ‘O alma redemptoris mater’.
This abbot, which that was an holy man,
As monkes ben – or elles oghten be –
This yonge child to conjure644 he bigan,
645 And seide, ‘O deere child, I halsen645 thee,
In vertu of the Holy Trinitee,
Tel me what is thy cause for to singe,
Sith that thy throte648 is kit, to my seminge?’
‘My throte is kit unto my nekke-boon,’
650 Seide this child, ‘and, as by wey of kinde650,
I sholde have died – ye, longe time agoon.
But Jesu Crist, as ye in bokes finde,
Wol653 that his glorye laste and be in minde;
And for the worship654 of his moder deere,
655 Yet may I singe “O alma” loude and clere.
‘This welle656 of mercy, Cristes moder swete,
I loved alwey, as after my konninge657;
And whan that I my lif sholde forlete658,
To me she cam, and bad me for to singe
660 This antheme660 verraily in my deyinge,
As ye han herd; and whan that I had songe,
Me thoughte she leide a grein662 upon my tonge.
‘Wherfore I singe, and singe moot, certein,
In honour of that blisful maiden free664,
665 Til fro my tonge of-taken665 is the grein.
And after that, thus seide she to me:
“My litel child, now wol I fecche thee
Whan that the grein is fro thy tonge ytake.
Be nat agast669; I wol thee nat forsake.”’
670 This holy monk – this abbot, him mene I –
His tonge out caughte, and took awey the grein,
And he yaf up the goost ful softely672.
And whan this abbot hadde this wonder seyn,
His salte teeris trikled674 doun as rein,
675 And gruf675 he fil al plat upon the grounde,
And stille he lay, as676 he had been ybounde.
The covent eek lay on the pavement
Wepinge, and herien678 Cristes moder deere.
And after that they rise, and forth been went679,
680 And toke awey this martyr from his beere.
And in a tombe of marbilstones cleere681
Enclosen they his litel body swete.
Ther he is now, God leve us for to meete!
O yonge Hugh of Lincoln, slain also
685 With685 cursed Jewes, as it is notable,
For it is but a litel while ago,
Preye eek for us, we sinful folk unstable,
That of his mercy God so merciable
On us his grete mercy multiplye,
690 For reverence of his moder Marye. Amen.
Heere is ended the Prioresses Tale.
THE PRIORESS – SIR THOPAS LINK
Bihoold the murye wordes of the Hoost to Chaucer.
Whan seid691 was al this miracle, every man
As sobre was that wonder was to se;
Til that oure Hoost to japen693 tho bigan,
And thanne at erst694 he looked upon me,
695 And seide thus: ‘What man artow?’ quod he.
‘Thow lookest as thow woldest696 finde an hare,
For evere upon the ground I se thee stare.
‘Approche neer, and looke up mirily!
Now war yow699, sires, and lat this man have place!
700 He in the wast700 is shape as wel as I;
This were a popet in an arm t’enbrace701
For any womman smal702 and fair of face!
He semeth elvissh703 by his contenaunce,
For704 unto no wight dooth he daliaunce.
705 ‘Sey now somwhat, sin oother folk han said705;
Telle us a tale of mirthe, and that anon!’
‘Hoost,’ quod I, ‘ne beth nat ivele apaid707,
For oother tale, certes, kan I noon,
But of a rym I lerned longe agoon.’
710 ‘Ye, that is good,’ quod he, ‘now shul we heere
Som deintee711 thing, me thinketh by his cheere.’
SIR THOPAS
Heere biginneth Chaucers Tale of Thopas.
Listeth712, lordes, in good entent,
And I wol telle verrayment713
Of mirthe and of solas714,
715 Al of a knight was fair and gent715
In bataille and in tornament;
His name was Sire Thopas.
Yborn he was in fer contree,
In Flaundres, al biyonde the see,
720 At Popering in the place.
His fader was a man ful free721,
And lord he was of that contree,
As it was Goddes grace.
Sire Thopas wax724 a doghty swain;
725 Whit was his face as paindemain725,
Hise lippes rede as rose.
His rode727 is lik scarlet in grain,
And I yow telle in good certein
He hadde a semely nose.
730 His heer, his berd, was lik safroun730,
That to his girdel raughte731 adoun;
His shoon of cordewane732.
Of Brugges were his hosen733 broun;
His robe was of siklatoun734,
735 That coste many a jane735.
He koude hunte at wilde deer,
And ride an hauking for river737
With grey goshauk on honde.
Therto739 he was a good archeer;
740 Of wrastling was ther741 noon his peer,